Chapter Text
The months pass quickly, working as I.M.P.’s secretary. The steady stream of clients, phone calls, and invoices eat up time like nothing else and provide a rhythm for Stolas' new routine.
More than that, he settles into his life with Blitzø. The two manage a few months of being friends and then one more of slow dates before the energy between them builds too much to ignore. The beanbag is a witness (and a casualty, really) to their reunion, to the kisses and gasps of their reconnection.
Once the two of them are official, Loona decides to move into her own studio. It’s only a few floors up from their current apartment, though, so she usually comes over for dinner.
Sometimes they’re joined by Octavia, who is warming back up to Stolas slowly but steadily. Truly, they just needed time, just as Blitzø had suggested. As she gets more comfortable visiting, Stolas gets to delight in seeing his favorite people together, Blitzø and Octavia turning out more similar than he realized.
So, time passes, tracked by appointments and bills and missions but also by dates and special occasions. Stolas and Blitzø mark their first month as a couple, then the second, then the third. They exchange ‘I love you’s at six months, and Stolas doesn’t remember ever being happier.
Or hornier.
Horny enough that, even with an empty apartment and a bedroom to share, Stolas and Blitzø have been absolute menaces at work. Stolas can’t help it, watching Blitzø go on missions and handle the Sinners’ surly attitudes just does something to him. Blitzø seems just as affected, especially when Stolas wears his glasses, the ones he doesn’t even need.
Moxxie walks in on them only twice before he demands that a “no fucking in the office policy” be instituted for the sake of “professionalism and productivity.”
It is rather ironic, since Millie and Moxxie are the first to break that policy. Stolas loves to remind them of that. Especially in front of Sallie May, Millie’s sister, who comes to Pride often. Blitzø is not-so-secretly aiming to recruit her to I.M.P. to join the field team. She is rather lethal, after all.
Her next visit is well-timed, occurring just around Moxxie’s birthday. Stolas already knows how much Blitzø loves celebrating, so he wakes up early on the day to help with the baking. He’s not a morning person, not really, but Blitzø has a way of making that easier, too.
“Ah,” Stolas gasps awake, one hand reaching for the top of the headboard, the other ripping the blanket off of his lower body. Blitzø has taken his customary place between his legs, eyes closed as he leaves kisses and licks along Stolas’ slit.
The imp hums and starts purring, yellow eyes peeling open to watch Stolas’ face. A claw joins his mouth and presses in slowly, a gentle touch. He works Stolas up to three and removes them, Stolas already pulling him up so their hips can join. Blitzø slips inside easily, the movements smooth and unhurried.
After completing their morning routine, the two clean up and get dressed. Blitzø puts on a giant t-shirt to avoid getting flour all over his work clothes. It drapes over his form like a loose dress and slouches over one shoulder. Stolas thinks he may need to bite Blitzø before he dons his suit and leave an imprint of his beak on the tantalizing skin there while he has the chance.
“I’m thinkin’ a chocolate and cherry flavor for him,” Blitzø says, marching to the kitchen. He grabs a bowl from the fridge. Stolas shakes his head to clear his lust in time for Blitzø to continue, “I already prepped the dough last night since it needed to rest. Think you can handle making a chocolate sauce while I work on the compote?”
Most of the words in that sentence are new for the former prince, who is only now learning how to cook. Still, Stolas chirps happily and pulls out a bowl, some chocolate chips, and a whisk. Moxxie had made him such lovely cookies for his own birthday, and Stolas wants to repay the favor.
He places all the chocolate chips in a big glass bowl and puts it in the microwave, working at low time intervals like Blitzø had taught him. Chocolate is finicky, he’s found. Easy to burn. He works carefully, mixing the chips as they melt, until he has a decent sauce.
“Does this look alright?” Stolas asks, lifting the bowl so Blitzø can peer inside. Blitzø pauses his work with the dough on the counter. In front of him are a tray of rolled cookies, each with a thumbprint in the center. A divot for the sauce, probably.
“You made a lot,” Blitzø says, grinning. “But yeah, looks good. Add a pinch of the fancy salt and some vanilla.”
Stolas nods, opening the cabinet and grabbing the ingredients. He adds them, using a teaspoon for the vanilla, and tastes the sauce as he goes. Grinning, he scoops some up onto his talon and holds it up for Blitzø.
The imp winks at him and flicks his tongue out, running it over Stolas’ finger far too lewdly. The muscles in Stolas’ stomach clench pleasantly, the spark in his gut never quite sated when it comes to Blitzø.
“Nice job, birdy,” Blitzø praises, and the spark flares brighter. Blitzø turns back to the stove and places some fruit in a saucepan. He dumps some sugar in and sets the heat to low. “The cookies are in the oven and need like five more minutes. You can leave the sauce in the microwave for now.”
Stolas does so, maneuvering around Blitzø carefully in the kitchen. That finished, he decides to work on their breakfast, just some coffee and toast. He sets a mug of overly sweet caffeine in front of his boyfriend and gets a sweeter smile in return, one that makes his stomach flip.
Blitzø takes care of assembling the cookies, placing a dollop of cherry compote in each thumbprint and then covering the cookie with a layer of chocolate sauce. The result is a little messy, but they still look delicious.
Blitzø is right though, Stolas made far too much chocolate sauce.
They find inventive uses for it, not ones to waste their food. Such uses almost make them late to the office, but they have the excuse of needing to stop for balloons and decorations as well.
Moxxie definitely doesn’t believe them, eyeing the cookies suspiciously, but he thanks them all the same. Millie and Sallie May dig in immediately, each shoving the confections into their mouths. Millie offers a gap-toothed smile and a thumbs up, grabbing another cookie for herself.
“Come on, Moxx,” Blitzø says, nudging the smaller imp’s shoulders. He hands Moxxie a treat with a grin. “We woke up early to make these! You gonna disrespect all our efforts like this?”
“And you didn’t do anything… inappropriate?” Moxxie asks, squinting one eye at the cookie in his hand.
“No, what the fuck?” Blitzø says, adopting an angry face. It’s mostly for show, Stolas can tell. Moxxie shrugs and takes a bite of the cookie, humming at the taste. “We only did inappropriate things with the leftover chocolate sauce, I promise!”
Moxxie nearly chokes on his bite, Millie coming up to hit his back softly. Moxxie glares at Blitzø for a moment, mouth pulling down into a scowl, but then he takes another cookie.
**
It’s as they’re all in the conference room a few weeks later, alternating jabs and jokes and actual mission plans for the day, that Stolas realizes he needs to start preparing for Blitzø’s birthday. It must be coming up soon, though no one has mentioned it. Digging his beak into his lower lip, he observes Blitzø as he adds a third phallic drawing to the whiteboard at the front of the room. He may be able to estimate the timing of his birthday…
After all, Stolas is quite familiar with astrology, constellations, and the positions of the stars. He had once spent an hour making notes in his journal, listing everything he knew about Blitzø, and pinned him down as a Sagittarius. Blunt, humorous, independent – the designation had fit. Blitzø had always represented freedom to Stolas, ever since the day they met as children. He figured that it only made sense for him to live under the freest, even reckless, sign.
But now, having lived with Blitzø, Stolas finds himself re-considering his assessment. While those characteristics still seem apt, he’s now been lucky enough to see other sides of his lover. The emotional, intuitive side that performs a quick read of any person he speaks to. The fiercely loyal, protective and brave side, the side that defended Stolas from Andrealphus’ icy dragon.
He’s seen firsthand that Blitzø almost never rests, not unless he has the odd moment alone. Once, Stolas arrived home after a night out with Moxxie to catch Blitzø dozing on the couch, pages and pages of horse comics covering their coffee table. Blitzø’s true creativity seems to bloom then, in the time he has by himself. Without that time, Blitzø will work his body to the bone for others, staying on his feet until they ache.
He’s seen how quiet Blitzø can be, when it’s just them at home. How he isolates himself when he’s upset, thinking that people are better without him. How his most pointed barbs are turned inwards.
No, not a Sagittarius. A Scorpio. A fixed sign, perfect for his persistent, resilient lover.
Turning to a new page in his notebook, Stolas makes jots his thoughts down as covertly as he can. It’s September now, and Blitzø’s birthday will be arriving soon. Late October, maybe?
His pen stills as the thought hits him. Late October. Last year, late October had been… a very bad time for both of them. Is Blitzø prone to bad birthdays, the same way Stolas is?
Nonetheless, Blitzø had given him a spectacular birthday in July. A night under the stars, the perfect date, complete with an overwhelming seven orgasms. Stolas will do the same for him, now, giving him a good birthday. One he deserves.
Mind made up, Stolas closes his journal with a soft thump. He returns his attention to the conference room in time to see Blitzø patting Moxxie on the back, a large toothy smile on his face.
Yes, Stolas will make Blitzø’s next birthday the best one he’s ever had.
**
That afternoon, Stolas pulls the rest of I.M.P. aside to tell them his intentions. Except Moxxie and Millie don’t know when Blitzø’s birthday is. Loona doesn’t either, all three noting that Blitzø has never said anything. They assumed he didn’t want to celebrate it, that perhaps it was related to the event that caused his extensive scars. They never asked, always wary of stepping on one of the hidden landmines of his past.
Stolas knows a bit about the fire that ravaged Blitzø’s life, his skin, but the imp hadn’t said anything about the date or it being close to his birthday.
Even if they are related… surely Blitzø would like to be celebrated in some way, right? He puts so much effort into everyone else’s days, into holidays. He’s so sentimental and Stolas knows how much he enjoys being doted on. That Blitzø, despite his efforts to cover it, has a soft, wanting heart.
Stolas frowns at his desk, tapping his pen against his beak. He doesn’t want to overstep or reopen a wound, but he also would love to give the date a happier meaning, a new memory.
He pulls out his phone and clicks hesitantly on Asmodeus’ contact. He doesn’t like to message the Sin very often, but he knows that Fizzarolli, his partner, grew up with Blitzø. If anyone knows details about his life, particularly his childhood, it’s Fizzarolli.
And to get to Fizzarolli, Stolas will need to go through Asmodeus.
Good day, sire. I was hoping I could ask for the contact information for your partner, Fizzarolli. I am planning an event for Blitzø and, since the two are so close, I wanted to get Fizzarolli’s ear regarding some details.
The text is overly formal but also direct. Stolas sends it and puts the phone down. Asmodeus isn’t one to text back quickly, especially if it’s not an emergency. The Sin of Lust is not one for rushing, no.
Sighing, Stolas reaches for the mouse on his desk and shakes the computer monitor awake. He navigates to the web, the clicks of the cursor loud in the air. He may not know the date, but he can at least start brainstorming activities.
Blitzø enjoys weaponry, particularly guns. Stolas doesn’t have a lot of money, but he knows that they have a membership at a gun range nearby. Stolas has only done minimal training there thus far, and he could use another session. With their passes, he can reserve a free time slot for them quite easily, and he does love watching Blitzø flex his skills…
“Everything okay?” Blitzø asks suddenly. Stolas doesn’t startle, which is a big improvement for him, and furtively fixes his expression to something less lust-ridden.
Blitzø is standing in front of Stolas’ desk, holding his third iced coffee of the day and something else in a paper cup. “Got you some tea from the new place down the street.”
“Oh,” Stolas says, smiling. “Thank you, dearest.” He takes the proffered drink and sips it carefully. The flavor is mild and accented by a hint of jasmine, a pinch of sugar. Some kind of green tea, perfect for the afternoon.
Blitzø walks over to the other side of the desk and peeks at Stolas’ computer. He grins excitedly, “Thinking about more training?”
“Mhmm,” Stolas says, nodding as casually as he can.
“Yeah, that place is great,” Blitzø says, nodding at the screen. “Just tell me when, okay?”
“Of course,” Stolas says, taking another sip of his tea. “How are the missions going?”
“Real good,” Blitzø says, puffing out his chest slightly. “Actually, we can cut out early after this next one.” He pauses, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “Maybe we can go to a plant shop in Gluttony, if you want?”
“You said our balcony was full,” Stolas teases, swinging his chair around so he can face his doting boyfriend. He leans down a bit so their faces are closer, so he can watch as Blitzø’s expression shifts, as a blush dusts his skin.
“Yeah, the balcony is full, but I figured you could pick something nice out for the office,” Blitzø says. He moves forward, nuzzling Stolas’ forehead with his own.
“I would love to,” Stolas says, melting in the face of Blitzø’s adoration.
“Ugh, disgusting,” Loona groans, walking out from the conference room. “Isn’t there supposed to be a new policy about this?”
Blitzø backs up and turns to his daughter, a smirk pulling his lips up on one side. “Ask Moxxie about that, why don’t you?”
**
Asmodeus finally gets back to Stolas a few days later.
Birdy babe! Happy to hear from you. I checked with Fizz and he said it’s cool, so I’m attaching his contact here for you. And do let me know if I can provide anything. Blitzø has been a friend to us, too, and I’m happy to provide for an indulgent party ;)
Stolas smiles, his chest warm. He clicks on the attached contact and types out a few different drafts, finally settling on something friendly and hopefully not too overwhelming.
Fizzarolli, this is Stolas! Blitzø’s boyfriend! We haven’t met properly but I am planning some festivities for Blitzø’s birthday and I wanted to get your input, since you are very special to him. Would you have time for a phone call or a coffee?
Immediately, three dots appear at the bottom of his screen.
Stolas! Good to hear from ya. & happy for you & Blitzø finally getting your shit 2gether, btw. ;)
Before Stolas can reply, another message comes through.
I am so down to plan something, but we should definitely chat first. Can you come to Lust on Saturday? We can meet at Flick the Bean. It’s next to Ozzie’s Tower.
Stolas nearly squeals but settles for bouncing excitedly on his talons. He types back a quick affirmation and they settle on a time. He adds the appointment to his calendar with a chirp, feeling like he’s on the right track.
When Saturday approaches, Stolas lets Blitzø know that he wants to visit with Asmodeus. It’s just a fib, a tiny lie, and so Stolas does his best to ignore his guilt. Blitzø is happy to summon a portal for him, meaning he can save some money on bus and Hellevator fare. And avoid the residents of Imp City who still largely despise him, even months later.
Waving to his boyfriend, Stolas steps out of the portal and is hit with the sprinkles of rain that characterize Lust’s weather. The sky above him is dim but the neon lights of Ozzie’s tower and the surrounding clubs do much to lighten up the street.
Pulling his phone out, he plugs in the address for the coffee shop and makes his way there. Luckily, it’s a few blocks away and his headfeathers are only moderately damp when he steps through the door to Flick the Bean. The jingle of a bell above him announces his presence, as does the sudden call of his name.
“Stolas,” the jester says, seated at a table near the counter. A few hellhound guards are posted behind him and there’s a small, white quieve in his lap. Its hind legs are gone, replaced with a tiny blue wheelchair.
“Fizzarolli,” Stolas greets, walking forward. He bows slightly and sits, his knees bumping the underside of the table. The top is decorated in swirls and sexually charged flowers. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“No prob,” Fizzarolli says, waving off his statement. He points at a cup and saucer in front of him, “I got you a hot tea? Blitzø says that’s your favorite.”
“Oh, thank you,” Stolas says, pulling the drink towards him. He places his palms around the cup, feeling the warmth through the ceramic. “Does he know–”
“Nah, I kept this our little secret for now,” Fizzarolli says, winking. His voice is gritty but carries so much lightness and humor at the same time. “Figured you’re planning a surprise?”
“Yes, I am,” Stolas says, picking up the tea and taking a sip. It’s a bit strong for him, a distinct and heavy peach flavor imbuing the liquid. “At least, I’m hoping to. I’m running into a bit of a roadblock.”
“You don’t know what to plan?” Fizzarolli asks. He holds his hand up, probably a signal for the waitstaff. “You mind if I get something to eat? The cake here is fucking crazy.”
“Oh, of course,” Stolas says. “And no, it’s not the where or what so much as the when.”
“Ah,” Fizzarolli says, nodding to himself. The waiter comes by and the jester points at a few selections on the brightly colored, laminated paper. “He hasn’t told you his birthday, huh.”
“Well, I haven’t asked per se,” Stolas admits. He places his hands in his lap, fidgeting with his talons. “I was worried that it might… bring up unwanted memories?”
“You know about the fire, right?” Fizzarolli asks, pointing to his face. His grin is gone, replaced by a grim expression. Stolas gulps and nods, trying not to stare too much, now that he knows that the white of Fizz’s face is from extensive scarring, not makeup. Fizzarolli pauses, the pained expression lingering, before brightening considerably, even bouncing in his seat. “Well, the good news is that the fire didn’t happen on his birthday!”
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Stolas sighs out, his posture relaxing minutely. He takes another drink of his overly sweet tea.
“Yeah, no, it happened on mine,” Fizzarolli says, shrugging.
Stolas promptly chokes on his next swallow, coughing and sputtering out as many apologies as he can through his gasping breaths. “Fizzarolli, I am so so–”
Fizzarolli makes a buzzing sound, like an alarm or the ding of a wrong answer on a game show. “First, call me Fizz,” he says. “Second, don’t worry your birdy brain about it.” He sits up in his seat, the green of his eyes flaring brighter. “If it makes you feel better, I have parties now. Big fuckin’ wild ones with strippers and dildos and all kinds of shit.” As he talks, Fizz gets animated, his limbs stretching and winding through the air. Their waiter returns, weaving around his electric arm to place a few plates in front of them.
“Well, that’s very admirable,” Stolas says, and he means it. “I’m glad the day can be joyful for you.” He taps the top of the table, trying to form his next words. “But if that’s the case… well, do you know when Blitzø’s birthday is?”
“Sure do,” Fizz says, taking a bite of cake. “It’s Halloween, October 31st.”
Stolas freezes, his knees locking into place. The cafe is quiet, so quiet Stolas can hear someone drop something in the back behind the staff doors.
“H-Halloween?” Stolas stutters out, pushing his drink away abruptly. His stomach rolls and he wonders if he might vomit right here, right during his first meeting with Blitzø’s childhood friend.
“Mhmm, Halloween,” Fizz says. “As for why he doesn’t say anything or celebrate? I mean, he and Barbie used to have parties, mostly 'cause his Ma would put something together. Once we all got older though, it was different. We'd do something lowkey, just the three of us and now... well,” He stops to take another bite of cake, chewing it quickly. “It probably has a lot to do with his sister, plus his whole ‘hating himself’ thing. I’m sure you’re familiar?”
Stolas nods mutely. His throat is too tight to offer much else.
Fizzarolli takes a long drink from his coffee and then hums to himself. “Y’know, his ex? Verosika? She actually throws a big party every year. It’s kind of twisted.”
“Right,” Stolas says, his voice a mere croak.
Fizz continues, unprompted, on a roll with his story. “Yeah, she invites me every year, though I haven’t heard anything for this one. I went one time, but it was real fucked, just… yeah, too much. Way too much,” Fizz pauses, a frown pulling at his mouth. “The pyres were probably a step too far, in my opinion.” He brings the second plate of cake closer, cutting into it. “I left, like, within ten minutes.”
Stolas stares down at the table with wide, unseeing eyes. His silence is a heavy thing, the tightness in his chest making it hard to breathe. The white quieve in Fizz’s lap yips and leaps down, its wheels clattering against the ground. It runs forward and paws at Stolas’ leg.
“Oh, shit, you okay?” Fizz says, reaching for one of Stolas’ arms.
Stolas shakes his head, flicking his eyes down to the pet. “What is it doing?”
“That’s Precious. She’s a therapy quieve and those are some major signals you need some therapizing,” Fizz says. “Pick her up if you want, she’ll give you some snuggles.”
Stolas does, lifting the quieve carefully into his lap. She turns around on his thighs as best she can with her paws and wheels, and the circular motion reminds him of when Blitzø climbs in his space for cuddles, often after eating a snack of brimstone. Warming him with his body, grounding him with his touch.
The quieve in his lap nuzzles at his stomach, yipping again. Stolas pets her head gently, his throat closing painfully.
“So… uh,” Fizz says, breaking the tense quiet between them. “You good?”
“No,” Stolas says, his voice low. No, he is the farthest thing from good. He looks up at Fizz finally and the clown watches his face for a moment.
“You… you went to the party, huh?” Fizz asks, his mouth pursing. He sighs and pushes his plate away, the cake half-eaten. “I mean, not like I can judge much. It was rough, right?”
“It was horrid, just so uncomfortable, and things just… they spun out of control,” Stolas blurts out, putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t know it was his birthday, and he didn’t say anything when I told him or showed him the invitation.”
“Wait, you showed him the invitation?” Fizz asks, eyes narrowing. “He knows about it?”
“He… he saw me there,” Stolas whispers. He coughs, forcing his words to be louder. “He came to it, trying to talk to me.”
“Oh,” Fizz says. “Shit.”
“Yes,” Stolas says. He feels like he’s made a right mess of things, perhaps in a way he can’t fix. Ruined Blitzø’s birthday before he even knew when it was. “Do I even have every right to plan something better, after that?”
“I mean, you two have talked about it, right?” Fizz asks, tapping one of Stolas’ shoulders. “You’re better now?”
“Yes, we discussed all of it,” Stolas says, his voice cracking. He sits up in his chair, takes a breath, smooths a hand over his headfeathers. “I apologized and he… he forgave me, of course.”
“That’s not surprising, he’d forgive you even if he wasn’t stupid in love,” Fizz says, smirking. He pulls his half-eaten cake back towards him. “You know what? I think that you should plan his dream birthday, Stolas.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, it’ll be good for him and also probably make you feel better,” Fizz says. “You still kind of look like you’re gonna hurl, if I’m being real.”
“It’s a close possibility,” Stolas admits, taking another breath. “You don’t think it would be in poor taste?”
“Nah,” Fizz says. “You’ve seen how many pictures he takes? Blitzø hangs onto memories, hoards ‘em like a fucking… mind dragon or something. And sometimes, that’s kind of bad for him. If you can make it a good thing, it’s a win-win for both of you.” He polishes off the rest of his cake and taps the fork against the plate. “Now, the question is… how do we make this the best birthday ever?”
Together, they brainstorm. Stolas takes out his journal of notes and tells Fizz about his plans for the gun range. He also has a list of Blitzø’s favorite flavors and foods, which makes Fizz smile. The jester agrees to order a spicy cheesecake from a specialty baker.
And he agrees to contact Blitzø's sister. There's no promise of how she'll respond, if she'll come or even answer Fizz's message, but it's something.
They decide to have his surprise party at the office for Blitzø’s comfort, Fizz assuring Stolas that he prefers to be on his own turf. They make a list of other people to invite, including Asmodeus, of course. The thought of the Sin seems to set Fizz off in another direction, the imp grinning saucily as he starts making a separate, more… suggestive list. He starts noting the things Blitzø seemed interested in, that time he came to Lust to purchase a bunch of toys for Stolas.
“The dragon driller, yes,” Stolas says, a blush stealing across his cheeks. “A shame we never got to use it.” The entire bag of sex toys was lost, in fact, probably tucked somewhere under a layer of ice at his palace.
“The new model is better anyway,” Fizz says. “I tested it myself.” He winks and makes a few more notes in Stolas’ journal, his script curly and unevenly spaced. “I’ll get you guys one as a gift, if you want.”
“That would be kind,” Stolas titters, covering his beak with his hand. “But that seems like it’s more for me. What about him?”
Fizz laughs and writes a few more things down, the tip of his tongue slipping out in his concentration. The same face Blitzø wears when he’s drawing.
“A ‘baby slut’ eye mask?” Stolas asks, peering down at the words.
“That man wants to sub so bad,” Fizz says, giggling.
Stolas smirks, nodding. “He does enjoy having a break, now and then.”
Fizz puts his pen down and glances up at Stolas with sparkling eyes. “Oh, you fucking legend,” he grins. “You’ve got him locked down, huh?”
“I may have tamed the stallion, yes,” Stolas offers demurely, adopting an innocent expression for only a moment before he’s wiggling his eyebrows. He and Fizz burst out laughing together, the good humor chasing some of the earlier heaviness away.
Eventually, Fizz decides to return home to Asmodeus. He brings Stolas up to the tower to say hello to the Sin and Asmodeus very graciously portals him directly home. He asks to be left in the hallway, just to give himself a moment before seeing his boyfriend.
Because, even though Fizz was adept at lifting the mood, some of the upset is lingering. Stolas feels… well, horrible, really, and he knows seeing Blitzø will make him feel worse. At least the photos in the apartment are clean, free of the black marks that once covered Blitzø’s face. Stolas doesn’t think he’d be able to enter if he was still surrounded by that stark evidence of Blitzø’s self hatred, not right now.
Of course, Blitzø knows something is wrong as soon as Stolas steps in the door, but he also doesn’t press. He gives Stolas the time he needs, the time to mull over the things swirling in his head. Part of him wants to fall at Blitzø’s feet and apologize again, but part of him wants to keep his knowledge a secret for now and make his birthday plans a complete surprise.
He texts Fizz, asking for his opinion, feeling foolish because they literally just saw each other. Fizz answers quickly, recommending that Stolas stay quiet for now. Something about ‘maximum impact’ and less of a chance that Blitzø will run away on his birthday.
Is that something he’s prone to do? Stolas texts back, worrying his bottom lip with his beak.
Oh yeah. I mean, we weren’t friends but I would still stalk his Sinsta, and his birthday always came around with pictures of biiiig parties at random fucking places. Very ‘lose yourself & forget’ energy.
Really? He doesn’t drink much now.
Yeah, I noticed. Cleaned up his act for his kid, I think. We probably don’t need to worry about it, but still.
“Stolas?” Blitzø’s voice rings out in the quiet apartment. He has a blanket and a DVD in his hands, one of the romcoms he stole from a store topside. “You wanna… I don’t know, cuddle and watch this cheesy shit?”
“That would be lovely,” Stolas says, putting his phone down. Blitzø curls in his lap and he pulls him close, beak clicking at the imp’s horns. “I apologize for my mood, darling.”
“S’okay,” Blitzø says, nuzzling into his chest feathers. “Let me know if I can do anything?”
Stolas hums, his chest tightening again. “I will, I promise.”
**
Halloween draws closer and with Fizz’s help, Stolas nails down the plans for the first part of Blitzø’s birthday. He brings Millie, Moxxie, and Loona in on it, each agreeing to bring something to the office that day for the party.
The second part will be up to Stolas, of course, a date just for the two of them. The most difficult part will be acting as normal as possible around his very observant lover.
It’s not super effective, not with how closely Blitzø watches him. Stolas has a few nightmares, too, flashes of the events of the previous year playing in his mind. This time is not pleasant for either of them, not really, with the reminders it brings. Blitzø has a few night terrors himself, Stolas cuddling him through his cries. They hold each other every day, and that seems to get them through the worst of it.
Despite the shadow of their fights, the trial, the aftermath, there is an air of progress. Stolas wakes up to more texts from Octavia. He secures a reservation at the gun range for Halloween, an apparently busy time. He selects a restaurant in Gluttony for after, an understated cafe with many cheese offerings. He even floats a few messages through Fizz and the clown confirms that Verosika is not throwing her annual party. Fizz adds that Barbie did in fact answer his text, but she has made no further commitments. It's a start, Stolas thinks.
All is going pretty well until he gets a call from the gun range, just days before their reservation.
“What do you mean, cancelled?” Stolas hisses, standing up from his desk. He checks behind him, making sure that Blitzø’s door is closed. “What happened?”
“Well, someone thought it would be a good idea to test a grenade launcher,” the clerk says, their tone bored. “Whole building is up in flames.”
Oh, Lucifer. Stolas curses to himself and puts a hand through his headfeathers. In front of him, Millie and Moxxie watch with concerned expressions.
“Will you be refunding our membership?” Stolas finally asks. The line clicks on the other end and he squawks indignantly.
Blitzø’s door opens and he runs out, making his way right to Stolas’ desk. “What’s up? What happened?”
“The gun range is no more,” Stolas sighs. “And they hung up when I asked about refunding our membership.”
“Fuck that,” Blitzø says, an angry slant to his brows. “I’ll go take care of that right now, I know where the fucking manager lives.” Before anyone can say anything, he’s pulling Stolas down for a quick kiss and running out the front door. “Stolas is in charge!” he shouts over his shoulder, his voice echoing in the hallway.
“Shit, well, that sucks,” Loona says.
“Yes, indeed,” Stolas says, flopping down over his keyboard. His computer makes a bunch of dinging noises as his torso hits random keys. “What will we do now?”
“Why don’t you do something with horses?” Millie asks, coming over to rub his shoulder gently. “He loves ’em.”
“Yeah, like too much,” Moxxie says, taking a seat on the office couch. Loona snorts her agreement next to him.
“I don’t know anything about hellhorses or where to go! His birthday is in two days!” Stolas cries. “I don’t have money, I can’t afford–”
“Okay, wait a second,” Loona says, putting her hands out, stopping Stolas in his tracks. “You can use the crystal we already have and head up topside. See some real horses, like the ones from that dumb movie he loves.” Loona delivers the idea with her typical casual tone, as if she couldn’t care less. Stolas knows better though, sees right through to the love she has for her father. Millie and Moxxie catch it too, sharing a look and glancing at Loona with small smiles. Loona huffs and takes out her phone, burying her face in it.
“Honestly, that’s pretty foolproof,” Moxxie says.
“It is a wonderful idea, Loona,” Stolas praises, wiping a tear from one eye. “I only wish I knew of a ranch or something to take him to.”
“Our targets take us all over the country,” MIllie says, grinning wide. “A few have brought us close to ranches before!”
“Yes, like the one with all those Earth goats!” Moxxie exclaims. “We can just look into those areas and see what’s around them. Somewhere remote would be best, since Blitzø doesn’t like to use a human disguise.”
“Plus, you two will probably want to have a little love session,” Millie teases, clasping her hands and putting them up to her cheek. “Oh, it’ll be so romantic.”
Stolas blushes but doesn’t bother trying to defend himself, because everyone here knows that he and Blitzø can barely keep their hands off each other on a regular day. And if all goes to plan, Blitzø’s birthday will be a very good day. Stolas may want to try to break his record for how many times he can make Blitzø come in a single session, too, especially with all the supplies he’s gotten from Fizz and Asmodeus…
“Ugh, gross,” Loona says, scrunching her muzzle. “I’ll be in the conference room if you need me.” She kicks the door open softly and plods her way to a seat, and Stolas can hear the way the leather creaks under her. He and M&M follow her, each pulling out a bunch of client files.
It’s a bit stressful with the looming deadline, but they find a few promising areas. Loona uses some websites and back channels about the human world to look into each place, and eventually they land on a state called Montana. It has quite a few ranches and, thanks to technology, Stolas is able to select a smaller one, one that will hopefully afford them the discretion and privacy they need.
By the time Blitzø returns, the refund for their membership in hand, they’ve cleaned up the conference room and assumed their regular work stations. The field team heads out on one final mission, and as soon as the portal closes Stolas is calling Fizz to update him.
Judging by the raspy, elated shout he gets in response, Stolas has made the perfect plan.