Smooth Imps And Fluffy Princes - Tumblr Posts

[ for @goetiiaprince, in response to this cute af moment ]

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"I don't know," Blitz hummed, looking up at him with adoring eyes, thankfully hidden behind those shades.

"From where I'm standing, there's something about you that no one else even comes close to having." Standing up straight for once, he was significantly taller than in his usual hunched posture, and didn't have to stretch his arm quite as high to reach up and hold Stolas's hand. Gentle as could be, because fuck, everything between them felt a little fragile these days, and like it all needed to be handled tenderly, he brushed his fingers along the inside of Stolas's much longer ones, then rubbed his cheek against his palm before letting go.

Blitz settled back down into his usual stance as they walked along, but he stayed close to Stolas--closer than necessary. Fuck, it felt good just to be near him, just to be together. He looked up at him every few steps, halfway expecting Stolas to just leave, preparing to beg him not to go. But Stolas was still there, and that meant... fuck. It meant a lot more than Blitz used to want to admit.

Used to.

But these days?

He reached out with his tail this time, and brushed it against Stolas's leg, glancing up again. "So, are you uh... Are you seeing anyone? You know, these days?"

Smooth, yeah. Real fuckin' smooth.

"No one for me, either." Blitz shook his head, wishing he could lie, wishing he could joke. Wishing he could say or do anything to make all of this easier somehow, on both of them--but it wasn't easy, and maybe it wasn't supposed to be. Arms folded tightly against his chest now, as if that would keep the ache in, Blitz stared at the ground as they walked.

"I didn't... I guess I didn't... ever admit. I mean, obviously. That what we had was--something. That it mattered. Yeah, the transactional thing, it was bad--for both of us. But I could've spoken up to you at any point and... I guess I sometimes... or, all the time, thought you wouldn't want to know more about me, you know? Or deal with any of my shit. Even just by hearing it. You're a prince. You're immortal. I'm a misprinted dot in the whole fucking book that'll be your life. But before Ozzie's, I could've spoken up. Said something. Or, when you were in the hospital. I could've--I should've....

"I let you down. All the time. And not just you." He hugged his chest tighter. For a heart this empty, it sure felt fucking heavy. "I let myself down, too. And I'm sorry, Stolas.

"Listen. Someone buying my time? You're the first person to do that. Your fucking weirdo dad wasn't, either. My father sold me--all the fucking time. For all kinds of reasons. To--" His throat tightened. He scowled and pushed through. "To all kinds of fucking assholes. I've never been... fucking. I've tried the therapy route, you know? And it works, to an extent. It helps, to an extent. But mostly, it's expensive shit that doesn't--work, if I'm not working back with it. Which I wasn't. I never reached back. Not in therapy. Not with you. Not with anyone who has ever actually given a shit.

"And I'm sorry." Finally, he looked up again. "I'm sorry, Stolas. For hurting you. Cause it doesn't matter why. I'm a grown-ass man. And I should be doing better. And I didn't realize--it took me a long time to figure out that we weren't on the same page. I was panicking and trying to fill in the blanks with shit I knew from experience, with roleplay and jokes and--

"I'm sorry. Seeing you at the party, hearing how... how fucking broken your heart is. And the way you--

"You grabbed the tablecloth and pulled it down over my face, because you still were looking out for my dumb ass--

"Fuck." He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at a half-crushed can. It clattered away loudly down the street. "I'm sorry."

The compliment sings through him like a chime blessed by a soft breeze. It marveled him even now how there could be such wonders even in a place like Hell. Stolas didn't dare dwell on such thoughts, lest they pull him into one of his great reveries, pulling him away and out of reach from the outside world. He would much rather live in the present anyhow. 

There's a soft ruffle of feathers, Stolas drawing his shoulders up briefly, and an almost imperceptible tilt of feathered tail. Even now, Blitz regarded him so highly? His beak parts to argue, but he closes it and swallows the words. He could accept it, he would let it settle between them like a soft sheet. Slowly, the space between them was lessening. The tenderness with which Blitz reaches for him, the graze of fingertips and brief press of cheek into his palm. It sets his heart into a furious, desperate rhythm. It breaks him into a million pieces. Did he have any idea of the devotion, desire, and the love Stolas held for him? He regards the imp from his peripheral, a gentle smile on his features. 

Being here with him felt like the mending of something torn. It felt like piecing together a broken vase and being able to get the glue to hold. He wasn't certain he knew where all of the pieces were yet, or if they'd still fit. . . . but it was a start. It was all he was willing or daring to ask for. 

They were fragile. He was fragile. 

A featherlight brush against his leg draws his attention, and again, Stolas finds himself overwhelmed with a flood of affection. He wanted to coo and fold himself against Blitz; nuzzle into the imp and shut out the world. He blinks swiftly at the query, however, and hastily looks away.  

❝ Seeing someone? Oh, Stars, no! ❞ He chuckles awkwardly and smooths a hand over the feathers on his head. ❝N-no I, I decided to just. . . take a break. Focus myself on other matters.  ❞ Does he dare pose the query back? Does he want to know? A part of him is curious, but other, the more selfish side of him fears the worst. That Blitz might have found better in their time apart. 

❝ What. . . about you? ❞

If you will have me. Blitz didn't know what that meant, didn't understand what exactly Stolas wanted from him, and the impulse to assume something, to panic and just run with something, was strong. He quashed it, refusing--consciously refusing--to fall back into the old habits, to keep making the old mistakes, and forced himself to keep listening. When Stolas had hugged himself, it left Blitz's heart aching, because he could imagine, he could fucking imagine, how many times Stolas must have done that--how many times Stolas must have been the only one to hug him, the only pair of arms that wanted to hold him, always left to comfort himself alone.

Blitz shoved his hands into his pockets--then thought better of it and stepped over to wrap his arms around Stolas. Screw the height difference, he hugged what he could get, and he held on. Stolas needed that. He needed to be loved. He needed to be cared for. And Blitz needed to care. He couldn't pretend not to anymore, he couldn't pretend--fuck. He just couldn't pretend.

"I want whatever you'll give me, Stols. If that's... if you just want us to be friends, I'll take it. But what I really want is you. I want to be yours. Your stupid, lovesick, idiotic, unculture imp. And I want you to be mine. I want to--to find ways to convince you, somefuckinghow, that you are mine. That I want you. That I'm not gonna, not gonna just let go?" He tightened his arms. "Until you tell me to. I want to be together. Not just for fancy fucking, either. I mean together, together. Romantically. And I don't--fuck. I don't know how. But I want to learn. With you." He closed his eyes and rubbed his face against Stolas, having heard his own damn voice break. Fuck, Blitz, keep your shit together. Blitz hugged tighter, still.

"I don't wanna lose you. And I know I already did. But I just. I don't wanna lie anymore, either. I wanna tell you everything. And never be the reason you're unhappy anymore.

"I wanna be the partner who holds your hand proudly in public, and never cuts you down, never leaves you feeling unseen in your own life, or just... fuck. Fuck. I wanna be together--and I want to be good for you. Fuck, I want to be good for you." He didn't know if he ever could be, but Blitz would give his entire being to just trying, if Stolas wanted that.

A selfish wave of relief flooded him, and some of the tension leaved Stolas' frame. It wasn't fair to have wanted Blitz to himself during their separation, or maybe at all, and yet, he did. Still does, but that was a conversation for another time if they ever got it.

Stolas listens intently, giving Blitz a reprieve from the constant weight of his gaze by watching the path ahead. Though he stole glances any chance he could, unwilling to blink too often or let the imp out of his sight for a prolonged time. Everything between them felt suspended on a wire fit to snap at any moment. And if it didn't, they each held a pair of scissors, ready to cut it and each other loose.

It took so much willpower not to speak and interject, to correct Blitz or overlap his apologies with his own. Messy didn't begin to cover what any of this — of what they were.

He could fill the gaps between the stars and planets with everything he wanted to say. But would it be too much? Would he be too much? His hands link together, fingers grasping at each other with nervous excitement and uncertainty. At long last, the prince moves to step into Blitz's path, leaning down with a small smile. So much pain. There was an immeasurable amount of suppressed emotions and experiences between them both that could fill the world's oceans, he had no doubt.

❝ Blitzy — ❞ Stolas gives pause and shakes his head. One hand moves to rest on the imp's shoulder, the other to lift his chin to meet the owl's gaze. ❝ You think this is your fault, but it isn't. Not all of it. Please. . . . please do not bear the weight of it all without me. I was — I did some unfavorable things and. . . ❞ He trails off, beak clicking softly as he struggles to find the rest of his words. The problem wasn't that they weren't there; it was the struggle of unwinding them, untangling every thought and feeling from each other to form something coherent.

❝ You keep apologizing, but I could have stepped up too. I should have, sooner than I did, honestly. I hurt you too, and really I — it wasn't right of me, to bring up my feelings the way I did. Not so suddenly. Not like that. And I refused to give you a chance to properly take in what I was saying and suggesting. If I had just given you a chance to speak. . . ❞ It was his turn to withdraw, hands moving to his own arms, awkwardly hugging himself before falling to the prince's sides. He felt at odds with his existence, with the physical presence he held. It felt too small, and too much all at once.

❝ I care you for very much, Blitz. I just. . . want you to be aware of that. And to understand that I hold fault in what happened between us too. We. . . we hurt each other, unfortunately. But I — ❞ He sucks in a breath, head tipping to the sky instead, eyes closing. But when he speaks again, his gaze is back on Blitz.

❝ I still want to be a part of your life, and for you to be in mine, if you will have me. . . ❞