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Honestly, Blitz hadn’t noticed anything different until Loona pointed it out.
“Dad, something is seriously fucky with your bird.”
A fair assessment to make since Stolas returned to the apartment with two packed shopping bags, set them on the floor next to the couch, and proceeded to take off every cushion and throw them on the floor. The two other occupants of the apartment stood back against the kitchen counter, watching in a mixture of confusion and interest as Stolas, who had never been out of the apartment alone in the three months he had lived there, pulled a cheap throw blanket from one of the shopping bags and carefully draped it over the cushions.
Blitz had been nervous when he woke up on the bean bag (now being dragged over to the cushions) and didn’t hear Stolas’ soft hooting yawns. He was even more nervous when he found the note stating: Be Right Back. Hoot Hoot- Stolas.
So this, whatever the fuck this was, was fine by Blitz because he would rather the owl be doing weird shit here than dangerous shit elsewhere.
“What do you mean, Loony?” Blitz asked as he took a sip of his morning coffee, very aware that he was still in his pjs. “He’s just… uh… redecorating.”
Three new pillows emerged from the endless shopping bag, and Stolas clicked his beak as he meticulously set them down around the cushions. The owl softly trilled and stood up from his work before going to the bathroom. He returned with Blitz’s laundry basket and dumped the dirty clothes onto the pile.
Loona barked a laugh before sighing. “That bitch is making a nest.”
“Whaaaaat,” Blitz nervously chuckled as he watched Stolas pick up one of Blitz’s used shirts, rub it against his face, and sing in a low voice as he placed it on a pillow. “That would be silly.”
Loona sniffed, grimaced, and covered her nose as she slammed her coffee on the counter.
“Can’t you smell that?” She nearly gagged on the question.
Blitz sniffed the air, and while he could admit it smelled nice even with the strange hint of electricity, he wasn’t sure where it was coming from.
“Maybe Stolas got new preening oil…”
Blitz’s words trailed off as they both watched Stolas remove his pants as though Loona wasn’t in the room.
“Yup, I’m out.” Loona didn’t wait for another of Blitz’s excuses as she pocketed her phone and headed out the door without a second glance.
Which, as Stolas removed his shirt, was probably for the best.
From where Blitz stood, he saw the small changes in Stolas’ body, highlighted by the early morning sun. His feathers were fluffier, like when he was startled, and his eyes were wide, almost unfocused. His movements were precise, if not on the verge of erratic.
Then there was the smell.
Taking another deep breath, Blitz recognized the undernotes of Stolas’ body, but it was like there was something familiar there Blitz couldn’t place. Something taunting in the way it stuck to his nostrils and tongue, a sweet metallic scent.
Stolas, oblivious to Blitz’s presence, kneeled on the mess of dirty clothes, new blankets, and couch cushions covered with feathers. He took one of the pillows, rubbed his face against it, and chirped. A few feathers stuck behind on the fabric, caught between the threads.
“Hey there, buddy,” Blitz called. “Whatcha doing?”
Stolas snapped his head around in that freaky owl way, and Blitz realized that following Loony to where the fuck she went off to would have been the safer idea. Stolas’ pupils were dilated, and he panted, his chest fluff moving in the quickness of his breath.
“Are you alright?” Blitz asked.
Stolas turned his body to match the direction of his face and crawled to the very edge of the cushions and pillows. He reached a hand towards him, beckoning Blitz to come closer.
“Blitz,” Stolas cooed. “Darling, come here. Join me in the nest I built for us.”
Shit. Loona had been right.
“A nest, huh?” Blitz cringed at the cracking in his voice, the thin veil of fear coating his throat. “Why did ya make that?”
Stolas’ eyes narrowed as he clicked his beak. “Come here, darling. Now.”
The scent grew thicker in the room, and Blitz realized this was a new side of Stolas he had never seen before. Stolas clicked his beak again as he sank his chest low and arched his back, his tail feathers fanning in the air above his raised bottom, and he called out to Blitz. The owl wiggled his hips, the long feathers moving along with the motion.
“Oh, shit,” Blitz whispered, and he felt very warm.
He stepped towards the nest, and Stolas chirped in what sounded like pleasure. Stolas shook his tail again, and Blitz could have sworn owls didn’t do these kinds of wacky displays, but Blitz wasn’t a fucking bird expert.
“Good Blitz.” Stolas’ voice was smooth and gentle. “Come to your Stolas.”
Another step, and Blitz realized if he was going to get into that nest, he had to set some ground rules.
“Listen,” Blitz said quickly as Stolas rose onto his hands and knees. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but if this is some kind of freaky bird mating dance, I’m cool with it. Just want to make sure you are-”
“Join me,” Stolas interrupted Blitz and took his hand. “I brought you gifts.”
“Oh,” Blitz smirked, stepping into the nest. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Gifts couldn’t be bad. Receiving them in a pile of his dirty laundry was questionable, but he could make do.
“Where, uh, do ya want me to sit?” Blitz looked around the pile for a spot, but Stolas pulled him down to sit across from him.
Stolas reached to grab the other bag from the couch, and it was then Blitz noticed the source of the scent. As Stolas stretched for the bag, sprawled out on his stomach, his legs spread, Blitz saw the feathers of his cloaca were wet. Not a new sight considering their past, but a spot higher above his tail feathers, which he had never seen before, was also leaking. A small nub, no bigger than a bean, seemed to be producing a smear of grease that coated the feathers closest to the base of his tail.
Stolas had mentioned before how he could produce natural oils that he could preen with, but it was a tedious task and wasn’t worth the effort. It appeared Stolas might not have been as truthful about the gland's full purpose because the smell nearly intoxicated Blitz.
It was so warm and pulling, like the memory of a feast over consumed not for hunger but just because it tasted good.
Stolas was good. Stolas had always tasted so fucking good.
Pulling the bag into the nest, Stolas took out a loaf of soft white bread and a small container of butter. Stolas twisted the lid, and Blitz smelled the sugar and honey mixed into the churned cream.
“What is that?” Blitz asked, his tail waving in anticipation.
“Food for you,” Stolas said, tearing off a hunk of bread.
Using his sharp claw, Stolas scooped a large dollop of butter. Blitz watched in amusement as Stolas spread the butter thickly across the slice before holding it to Blitz’s mouth.
“Eat, my darling,” Stolas whispered.
The bread looked terrific, freshly baked, with steam rising from the fluffy inside. The butter started to melt against the warmth, the sticky sweetness of the cream and sugar dripping off the edges.
It smelled good.
Blitz closed the distance to bite the bread from Stolas’ outreached hand. The bread’s warmth was comforting as he chewed, and the taste was almost impossibly sweet. The butter, rich and fatty, coated his mouth.
Stolas watched him hungrily as Blitz ate the gift, and Blitz kept their eyes locked as he swallowed it. A tiny bit of butter still rested on his lips, and he licked it away, certain the shininess was still there.
“Was that good?” Stolas asked.
The question felt heavier than it should have been. It nearly dragged down Blitz’s shoulders, weighing him down more than the bread and butter in his stomach.
“Yeah,” Blitz answered with a smirk. “It was real fucking good.”
Stolas’ feathers fluffed, and he chirped a pretty little tune as he tore more bread, spread more butter, and held more slices in his palm for Blitz to eat. Taking the bread from Stolas like a horse to an apple was a bit strange, but it made Stolas’ eyes light up. So Blitz kept taking, slice after slice, long after he was full and well after he was stuffed. Finally, midway through the second loaf of bread, he shook his head.
“Stolas, I’m going to explode if I eat more.”
Stolas nodded as he chirped, the sound relatively high and happy, and he placed the bread to the side of the nest before turning back to Blitz. Using his tongue, Stolas cleaned his claw of the sweet butter. When he was satisfied with his cleaning, Stolas pulled Blitz close and cradled him to his chest, beginning to chip away at the flaking pieces of Blitz’s horns with his beak.
“Woah, hey, Stols,” Blitz shouted as he tried in vain to push Stolas away. “You don’t have to do that.”
Stolas continued his work, preening Blitz like he would another bird, only instead of feathers, it was Blitz’s horns. Blitz had helped Stolas before with his feathers, massaging the oil against Stolas’ skin and picking out broken quills. This was… different? Usually, Blitz just used the good ol’ dry comb and buffer method to keep his horns shiny, but this was a new experience entirely.
It should have been gross, right? Stolas was using his beak to flake away small pieces of keratin as a low tremble in his chest lulled Blitz into a near sleep.
“That feels kind of nice,” Blitz hummed, letting his eyes grow heavy. “Don’t tell Mox about this, though, okay? He would be an annoying prick about me letting you do this.”
A chuckle interrupted Stolas’ preening, but he continued. As Blitz rested his head against Stolas’ chest, he thought he should be returning the favor and licked a small batch of feathers by his chest.
Stolas froze, his preening stopping, and cleared his throat.
“Blitz, what are you doing?”
Blitz wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but he shrugged. “You are preening me. Shouldn’t I preen you? If the tongue thing is icking you out, I can grab the-”
Suddenly, Stolas’ hands were on Blitz’s shoulders, pushing him with a force Blitz hadn’t known from the owl before. Blitz landed on his back on the pile of pillows and dirty laundry, all the air escaping from his lungs, and found Stolas hovering over him.
Except, this was not the same Stolas who had held him so gently seconds before.
The owl stood above him, one foot planted on Blitz’s chest. His feathers stood nearly on end, making him look bigger than he was. Gone was the wanton, shameless bird Blitz had taken as a lover, a sassy bottom who demanded Blitz to take control. Instead, Blitz could only describe Stolas as a beast from the darkest depths of a forest. As though he was a dangerous monster his mama would tell him scary stories about. Something he should stay very far away from.
Which made him feel a little weird about how hard his cock was getting, threatening to pop out of his slit as his hips rolled in response.
“If you don’t want me to preen you…” Blitz started, but Stolas put more pressure on his chest.
The smell permeated Blitz’s skin, prickling and sharp in its strength. Stolas bent at his waist, his head turning and his eyes narrowing, beak clicking as though reading itself to consume Blitz in a single gulp. Blitz had seen Stolas swallow mice of all sizes, and the realization that Stolas was a predator struck him.
“Easy, Stolas,” Blitz whispered slowly. “It’s ok.”
Carefully, Blitz reached for Stolas’ ankle, and only once he was sure Stolas wasn’t going to snap his wrist in two, he placed his palm against him. Stolas glared as he took deep, considering breaths.
“Let’s talk, yeah?” Blitz lightly rubbed Stolas’ ankle with his thumb. “You seem to be feeling some kind of way.”
Stolas could end him. Even without his magic, Stolas was a creature built to hunt, tear flesh,and seek for food. Blitz could be that food. Was that what the bread and preening were for? Just to lure him into a calm before Stolas snacked on him like a buffet?
Blitz swallowed the lump in his throat that could be fear or horniness. He wasn’t sure. “Pretty bird?”
Stolas screeched, the sound loud and terrible, and the talons on his chest pushed just a little harder, the sharpness digging just a little deeper. The flesh of his chest threatened to split where the sharp talons attempted to pierce him.
Blitz knew he should run. He should push himself out from under Stolas and race from the nest. Stolas could fucking have the apartment. That was fine. Stolas could have whatever he wanted if it meant Blitz wasn’t about to become an imp dinner.
But Blitz's sleepy, heavy, stupid brain whispered, ‘You are safe with Stolas, he would never hurt you,’ and that was more comforting than terrifying.
Blitz whispered Stolas’ name again as his thumb gently stroked the deadly talons above his heart.
Finally, Stolas took in a gasping breath, and he blinked hard back into understanding. “I fear I am in a rut, my darling.” With what looked like great pain, Stolas removed his talons and sat as far away from Blitz in the nest as he could. “You should go.”
The feathers between Stolas’ legs were drenched, his chest heaved, and his face strained with concentration. Stolas was struggling to hold back, and Blitz felt a crushing hold on his heart to reach out and help.
Blitz understood ruts. Imps had them, as well as heats, and Blitz managed to push them both away with medication, but he remembered his first few. He remembered the fluster that would start in his belly and overcome him, the need to find another body to take, to thrust, to give a piece of himself away. He remembered hiding, the desperate attempt to soothe the fire, pushing his dick throbbing from his slit to fuck his hand. Or, depending on what felt right, forcing his dick to stay sheathed and fingering himself to completion.
In the end, he would find that it only made him want more, to kiss someone hard enough to bruise their lips, to lick the sweat and tears from their cheeks, and bite hard enough to leave his mark against their skin. It felt like forever ago when he thought Fizz would have been that person. He used to imagine what Fizz’s skin would look like with his mark, but he accepted long ago that would never be.
With all his other lovers, he never once imagined sharing a rut with them. In fact, for a long time, he thought he would be unmarked, unclaimed, and die alone.
Now, though, he knew who he wanted to experience a rut with, who he wanted to claim and make his own.
And better yet, for him to claim Blitz as his mate.
“Leave quickly, please,” Stolas whispered, his hand hovering between his legs. “Please.”
Blitz sighed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
He shouldn’t offer what he was about to offer, but Stolas’ desperation tugged at him.
“I could help.”
Stolas sat up straight but bit his bottom lip with his beak. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked deep in thought.
“We haven’t… Blitz, we…”
We haven’t fucked. We haven’t touched. We haven’t kissed since the palace. We haven’t talked. We haven’t anything…
Yet…
“It’s fine,” Blitz said, moving up to rest on his elbows so he could look at Stolas better. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Another chirp, and Stolas shook his head, seemingly to clear what could only be thoughts of mating. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Blitz chuckled. “With all the shit we’ve done, and you think a little ‘that time of the year’ horny bird sex will do me in? I don’t think so. And, before you ask, I’ve got the good ol’ baby stopper right here.” Blitz patted the little rod in his upper arm.
Stolas’ panting grew louder as his hand finally settled between his legs. Blitz watched as Stolas pressed down against the mound of flesh above his cloaca with his palm but didn’t move his fingers to enter himself. Poor bird needed so much, and Blitz ached to know Stolas was denying himself what he wanted.
“It shouldn’t last long,” Stolas whispered, keeping his hand between his legs as he shifted to his knees.
Pupils dilated once again, and the low trill in his voice, Stolas took on the dizzying darkness of desire. Blitz could taste the craving in the air and couldn’t breathe with how thick it coated the room. Loona would make him clean the apartment up and down before she would even think about returning home, but Blitz didn’t care. He would do whatever he needed because the way Stolas looked at him, needy and in control, was something Blitz would remember forever.
“I figured.” Blitz’s voice cracked again as he watched the owl move towards him, slow and hungry. “Like what, a few hours?”
At Blitz’s hoofs, Stolas dropped himself onto his hands and knees above Blitz. The owl’s body was long, creating a living shelter over Blitz. Blitz held eye contact despite feeling so small under Stolas’ body. Blitz could smell Stolas, the wetness from his cunt against the hand positioned so close to Blitz’s face.
“Do you…” Blitz tried, but the words were lost as Stolas placed that hand against his cheek.
“My Blitz,” Stolas cooed. “My love. My beautiful mate. Mine.”
Then, Stolas took the collar of Blitz’s shirt in his beak and tore it down to the hem. The air was warm against Blitz’s bare chest, and he was surprised at the moan that escaped him. Stolas wasted no time in pecking, licking, and tasting down Blitz’s chest and leaving bite marks along his sides until he reached his waistband. In a single move, Stolas pulled away Blitz’s shorts and boxers, leaving the imp bare.
Blitz’s cock was still in its sheath, hidden away in his body, but he felt his blood racing. When Stolas traced the line of the slit between Blitz’s legs, the imp cried out in pleasure.
“Fuck, Stols, it’s been a while,” Blitz said in a heaving breath. “Been…fuck, it’s been a long while.”
Gently, Stolas nuzzled his beak against the soft skin between Blitz’s legs, a strange gentleness Blitz hadn’t been expecting. Already, Blitz’s cock wanted out of its prison.
“So, how do your ruts go?” Blitz breathily asked. “Like, am I fucking you? Are you–shit!”
Blitz yelped as Stolas pressed the heel of his palm, the one that had been between Stolas’ legs, against the top of Blitz’s slit. A shock of pleasure burst through him as Stolas restrained Blitz’s cock from emerging. With his other hand, Stolas spread the lower part of Blitz’s slit open, and the owl looked at it as though he was judging the quality of a diamond.
“So wet,” Stolas said, and Blitz cried out when Stolas swiped against him with his finger. “So warm and safe. Good for eggs. Perfect for eggs.”
Stolas looked up at him with determined but glazed eyes as he took Blitz’s hand to cover the top of his slit, holding his dick back so Stolas could spread Blitz’s legs even further. Blitz gasped at the feeling of being so exposed, so open, and he had to fight the urge to close his thighs.
“Mine,” Stolas whispered as he pressed another finger inside Blitz.
Blitz nodded and gasped at the feeling of Stolas’ finger running down the inner flesh of his sheath, so close to his now hard cock. He moved his hips to Stolas’ exploring fingers.
“Stolas,” Blitz moaned, grinding his hips harder against Stolas’ fingers. “Let my cock out or do something to me already.”
“Say it, Blitz,” Stolas firmly ordered, removing his fingers. “Are you mine?”
What kind of question was that? They weren’t dating, or at least not really. Well, sort of, according to everyone around them. They hadn’t said anything about it, though. Except, they spent everyday together and ate meals together and could be silent in each other’s presence without feeling weird…
“Yes,” Blitz said, feeling the tightness of that fact leave him. “I’m yours.”
Stolas threw a leg over Blitz’s body, lowered until his cunt lined up to Blitz’s slit, and with a moan, rocked his hips.
Stolas’ cloaca was so warm, and it felt swollen, nearly firm, against Blitz’s skin. Stolas’ hips ground against Blitz’s slit, and while it didn’t have nearly the nerve endings as Stolas did on his cloaca, the pressure against the head of his sheathed cock with each thrust made Blitz nearly weep.
The sounds their gyrations made were horribly sloppy and made Blitz moan even louder at the wickedness of it all. Blitz raised his hips to meet Stolas’ rocking, and Stolas responded to the movement by gripping Blitz’s hips, holding him in place, and grinding even harder.
“Need you,” Stolas cried, his voice wet and needy. “Darling mate. Mine, mine, mine.”
Stolas’ eyes were clenched shut, but Blitz saw deep tears beginning to spill. Blitz knew what relief from a rut felt like, but this wasn’t that. Blitz covered Stolas’ hands, feeling the tiny beads of blood that Stolas’ claws drew from the torn skin of his hips.
“You’ve got me,” Blitz told him.
When Stolas came, his claws dug deeper into Blitz’s body as he cried. Blitz hissed as Stolas came against him, Stolas’ cum hot and sticky as it coated Blitz’s insides. Stolas hadn’t told Blitz to let his cock come out of its sheath, and the last thing Blitz wanted to do was go against what Stolas’ rut required. Instead, Blitz watched Stolas falling apart and dug his fingers between their pressed bodies to enter himself, his fingers brushing against his trapped cock until he joined Stolas.
“That was amazing,” Blitz groaned, pulling his sticky fingers out of himself covered in their mixed cum. “So fucking good.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Blitz chuckled. “Time for a nap?”
A nap sounded terrific, but Stolas was already readjusting his hips, pulling Blitz impossibly closer, and began his thrusting again.
“More,” Stolas grunted, his cloaca rubbing against Blitz’s slit. “I have to fill you, my love. I need you dripping with me.”
Blitz’s hips bucked at the thought of being so full of Stolas’ cum, and he showed his teeth when he grinned. “Then fuck me harder, pretty bird.”
Stolas’ legs quivered as he rose on his knees taller, taking Blitz with him. Blitz whimpered as the lower half of his body rose from the nest until only his shoulders remained on the ground. Stolas used Blitz’s body to chase his pleasure. Garbled cries left Stolas’ throat as he ground his hips even harder, creating near-painful friction between them.
Blitz had always been pretty proud of his ability to go all night without much of a break, and already he was kneading the heel of his palm against the trapped head of his cock. Writhing under the warmth of Stolas’ cunt and the pressure from his own cock begging to be unsheathed, words of praise left Blitz’s body.
“You are so good, Stolas,” Blitz gasped as Stolas’ claws pressed harder into his flesh. “Fuck me, baby. Pretty fucking bird. Keep going until you fill me with our clutch.”
Stolas met his gaze, his pupils large and his feathers puffing out, but never once slowing down from fucking him.
“That’s what you want to hear, you beautiful bitch,” Blitz chuckled. “Our babies, huh? Gonna use me to carry all those eggs?”
The noises Stolas made were no longer moans but owl-like cries. Blitz’s slit was already feeling sore from the rigid motion of Stolas’ hips, and the wounds from Stolas’ claws stung like a bitch. Still, Stolas’ eyes were on him, like a predator that would sooner eat his heart, and it drove Blitz mad with desire.
“You want to see me carry your babies?” Blitz teased as Stolas’ breathing quickened. “You do, I fucking know you do. Come on, fill your mate up. Take care of your mate, Stolas.”
Unexpected darkness took over the room, and Blitz tore his eyes from Stolas to look around, worried they were experiencing an unexpected storm. No, the darkness was no storm but a static-y, electric form emerging from Stolas.
Different from the demonic form Blitz had seen his lover take on, Stolas remained, but two blurry, dark spots formed ripping from Stolas’ back. When his eyes adjusted, Blitz realized the images were a set of great wings. They rippled and shook like static snow on a shitty television, and it hurt Blitz to look at them too long.
The sweet metallic smell grew, and Blitz recognized where he had found that scent before. It trailed Stolas each time he returned from his celestial duties, hovered around Stolas’ study after hours of studying star maps, and wove itself into Stolas’ kisses.
It was Stolas’ magic.
It didn’t make any fucking sense. Stolas didn’t have magic anymore. They all saw the damn trial. Stolas’ magic was taken from him. This shouldn’t be happening.
The wings stretched, hitting the ceiling and knocking down the damn fan. Shaken feathers, long and ethereal, fell from his wings and landed on the ground, sizzling like water to flame.
Blitz didn’t fear what was happening above him. He moaned at the sight of the great beast before him. He wanted to beg for Stolas’ everlasting attention and tried to call him names that Blitz had never thought of before in a language he didn’t understand. He wanted to worship at Stolas’ great talons, offering more than Blitz could ever provide.
Blitz wanted to be whatever Stolas needed him to be.
Stolas cried out again, this time in a shrieking pain, as another set of dark wings burst from his back, small and lower than the first but still mighty. Blitz thought perhaps he saw galaxies in the ever-shifting visions before his eyes.
Blitz didn’t understand the magic before him as Stolas continued to fuck him.
Unless this wasn’t magic, but just Stolas. The pieces of him no one could take.
“Use me,” Blitz cried out. “Come on, baby, cum in me ‘till you’ve got nothing left. Drain yourself into me, Stols.”
When Stolas came again, the mighty wings protruding from his back stiffened and pulsed. Stolas’ cum burned as it forced itself through his body, clinging to Blitz and trying to bury itself into all his soft parts like thorns. Blitz hissed as the electric sparks of Stolas’ wings left cinders of darkness that landed on his skin, leaving little white freckles behind on his stomach.
With a shriek Blitz could only describe as ‘owl’, Stolas pulled his claws from Blitz’s hips and fell back onto the nest. After adjusting to the sudden drop back onto the pile of clothes and pillows, Blitz sat up to check on Stolas.
At the other end of the nest, Stolas sunk onto his knees, panting, and face turned downwards. The great sets of wings hung tired from his back, no longer filling the apartment with their width.
Although Blitz couldn’t see Stolas’ face, he sensed the exhaustion.
“You okay?” Blitz called and didn’t breathe until Stolas nodded. “There you go,” Blitz said in a broken voice. “You just rest.”
Blitz’s muscles were sore, and the skin of his stomach ached from the burns. He ran his fingers down his body and felt where his stomach bulged. He thought of the bread, butter, and the copious amounts of cum Stolas shot into him. The stretch felt strangely good. Almost caring, in a way, like Stolas had worked hard to make him this full—this satisfied.
Blitz straightened up more and felt a rush of cum leave his body. Curiously, Blitz reached between his thighs to feel what Stolas left behind, but his fingers only managed the briefest of touches when a wave of wind and a sudden shock pulled his hand away.
In the blink of an eye, Stolas was back, pushing Blitz against the nest again with an angry nip of his beak.
“Don't touch,” Stolas snapped, the wings erect and outstretched.
“The fuck you mean ‘don’t touch?’” Blitz narrowed his eyes and waited for Stolas’ response.
Stolas rolled his shoulders before he grabbed the back of Blitz’s thighs and pushed them as far back toward Blitz’s head as Blitz’s body would allow. Blitz gasped Stolas’ forcefulness, but a sharp clash of Stolas’ wings, sounding like thunder, shut Blitz right up.
Using his palm, Stolas pushed the cum leaking from Blitz back towards his slit, and Blitz realized what Stolas meant by ‘don’t touch.’ Stolas’ rut craved for this to work, for their efforts to blossom into something.
“Don’t worry,” Blitz said, his purr erupting from his chest. “I want it there, too.”
The heel of Stolas’ palm as he pushed against Blitz’s slit was soothing, and his purring grew louder. Stolas trilled in his throat, and for a few moments, they were a peaceful duet. Finally, when Blitz was considering taking a little snooze, Stolas pushed Blitz’s legs back further.
“More,” Stolas announced, keeping Blitz’s legs pushed back towards Blitz’s head, leaving his slit exposed.
Blitz could barely breathe with the pressure of his body nearly folded in half, the almost two loaves of bread and two loads of horny owl cum not helping the case, but he knew that once again, he could fight back if he wanted to.
He knew Stolas would let him go if Blitz told him to. The beast before him, with electric wings and a sharp beak, wouldn’t bow before Blitz, but he certainly wouldn’t hurt him.
Blitz trusted Stolas, no matter what.
“You want me?” Blitz teased, already feeling the blood rushing to his head. “Want to fill me with your babies? Go on then, mate with me again.”
Stolas leaned his face to Blitz and snapped his beak. Stolas bent his knees, squatting over Blitz’s slit, and Blitz could feel the heat pooling from Stolas’ cloaca. The smell of electricity, stardust, and Stolas was too fucking strong. Blitz felt like he would faint, the blood rushing to his head not helping the woozy feeling, but he wasn’t about to lose this fight for control.
“Come on,” Blitz snarled, raising his face to meet Stolas as he wrapped his tail around Stolas’ waist. “Are you going to stare at me like a fucking weirdo, or are you going to kiss me with your cloaca? Fuck me already!”
In a single motion, Stolas lowered his cunt against Blitz’s slit as he curved his back and crooked his neck to reach Blitz’s mouth. Blitz groaned into the kisses happening at both ends of his body. He was too trapped under Stolas’ body, his legs too tucked against himself, to thrust back, and instead, the slow drag of their tired bodies was just Stolas. When his cock emerged from its sheath: slipping out between them, hard and pulsing with need, Stolas didn’t force it back.
Blitz bet they looked so stupid (thank Satan for his circus training), but he didn’t care. It was just them in this nest of new pillows, the dirty clothes Stolas had stolen, and the couch cushions. Stolas’ kisses against Blitz’s mouth were sharp and demanding. Blitz struggled to keep up, his mind growing heavy from Stolas’ scent and the angle of his body.
“My Blitz,” Stolas said against Blitz’s mouth and taking Blitz’s cock in his fist. “So good. My Blitz is so good. Want you to feel good.”
Blitz’s vision began to darken, and he realized that maybe the shockingly diminished sense of oxygen and the rush of blood to his skull was getting to him. He tried to talk, but Stolas’ tongue was in his mouth, lapping up any words Blitz wanted to say.
The great wings loudly flapped before covering them both, encapsulating them in a dark haze. Blitz saw stars in a way he never had before. The moons circled them in the darkness of the wings. Blitz wanted to reach out to them, hold them, and craft jewelry to string around Stolas’ neck. Stolas deserved pretty things.
Blitz didn’t know he was cumming until he felt the warmth, so different than the burning that Stolas poured into him, landing on his chest and chin. Stolas worked Blitz’s cock, and carried him through it, trilling loud and encouraging him.
“My Blitz,” Stolas whispered as he pressed his cloaca hard against Blitz’s slit. “I want you to be mine forever.”
“Forever sounds…” Blitz mumbled as Stolas’ hips jerked and the familiar burn entered him. “Sounds good.”
The word swirled in his mind. Forever. Forever with Stolas, forever pressed against his feathers and the sweet scent of stardust. Blitz wanted it more than anything.
Blitz turned his face to the side and exposed his neck to Stolas. Blitz watched as Stolas’ eye caught his movement.
“Come on,” Blitz begged. “Do it. Mark me, Stolas.”
Blitz wanted forever with Stolas. He wanted to wear Stolas’ mark on his skin.
Stolas’ strangled cry was the last thing Blitz heard as he lost consciousness under the wings, cloaking him in the nighttime sky. Blitz felt Stolas biting down hard against Blitz’s shoulder, his beak cutting into his flesh, and Blitz drifted off into a blissful darkness.
***
Blitz couldn’t be sure how much time had passed when he woke up, but it couldn’t have been much. A few minutes at most?
“Stols?” Blitz murmured and found his voice muffled by feathers.
He painfully adjusted his face from Stolas’ chest floof and found he was still lying in the nest, but thankfully, his legs weren't above his head. Stolas rested beside him, wiping a soft cloth over Blitz’s face to clean away the sweat and, Blitz wasn’t surprised to see, blood.
Adjusting his hips, Blitz felt the wet, stickiness between his thighs and the stinging wounds of Stolas’ claws. He adjusted his shoulder and felt a deep pain.
“Don’t move,” Stolas whispered, using the soft cloth under Blitz’s eye. “Rest, my Blitz.”
Blitz's eyes grew heavy and he nuzzled back against Stolas’ chest.
“Horny bird ruts sure are different than horny imp ruts,” Blitz said, letting out a sleepy sigh. “Warn a guy next time.”
With that, he fell back asleep to the comforting hooting lullaby in Stolas’ chest.
***
Blitz woke again a few hours later to a hard knock on the door. He pushed himself up from the nest and immediately fell back.
“Holy fuck,” Blitz hissed, reaching for his shoulder and pulling away when he felt the bandage there. “What the fuck?”
A sudden shriek from the apartment door, a soft “Sorry!” that sounded an awful lot like Stolas, and then the door shutting helped alert Blitz to his surroundings.
Blitz was in the nest, his shoulder and hips stung, and he felt hungover although he hadn’t drank.
“I was hoping the food delivery didn’t wake you.”
Stolas emerged into Blitz’s line of vision, still naked and holding a takeout bag. Stolas’ feathers were a mess. There were stains of dried blood under his chin and his chest, but the wings were gone. Blitz couldn’t be sure where they had gone, but he was too exhausted to ask.
The smell hit him, and Blitz moaned at the scent of meat, veggies, and rice. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
“Please tell me that is food,” Blitz begged.
Stolas sat cross-legged in the nest and pulled Blitz into his lap. Blitz hissed at the movement, and a rush of cum trailed down his leg. Stolas didn’t seem to mind as he tucked Blitz into his lap.
“I’m leaking all over you,” Blitz said. “Want me to take a quick shower?”
“No,” Stolas answered, but his words seemed shy. Almost regretful.
Blitz turned his head towards Stolas and watched his solemn expression as he pulled out the takeout and cracked open the container. The smell washed over him, and he realized he no longer smelled Stolas’ rut.
It was over almost as quickly as it began.
“Hey, Stolas,” Blitz said as he watched the steam from the food rise to where the ceiling fan used to be.
“Yes?”
“I’m not upset or anything.”
The food trembled in Stolas’ hand, and he set it down instead of dropping it.
“That is very kind of you to say, Blitz, but I am upset with myself. I should have had more control, and clearly, I wasn’t.” Stolas turned his face away, but Blitz saw that familiar tremble on Stolas’ chin. “I hurt you, and I can’t even remember why.”
Blitz cocked his head to his shoulder. “The mating bite?”
Stolas met his gaze again, a look of confusion on his face. “The what?”
“Ya know, when one imp likes another imp very much, they bite each other. It means something to wear the mark of a mate forever on your skin. Sorta like a weirdass wedding ring.”
Blitz watched the shock on Stolas’ face and figured he probably mimicked it, too.
“Goetias don’t do… that.” Stolas swallowed hard. “I’m not sure why I would do that if I’ve never felt the need to do it. It isn’t in my nature.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you were just picking up on my imp instincts.”
“You have a good point,” Stolas whispered. “Perhaps something in the rut told me to do it because it would be a way for you to understand what I was feeling…”Stolas paused, his cheeks growing pink. “Or something else! Who really knows? Ruts are always so strange.”
“Right.” Blitz turned his face to the ceiling, ignoring how his tail wagged behind him. “Well… that’s what it is.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
They would need to talk about this later. Preferably after a bath. But not before he calmed the rumbling in his stomach. Who knew that being fucked by a demon owl could work up such an appetite.
“Stolas, I swear, if you don’t give me that food, I’m gonna take a bite out of you,” Blitz teased.
Far too quickly, Stolas asked. “Would you want to?”
Tricky bird. Blitz stumbled over an answer, but Stolas shook his head.
Correcting himself, Stolas said. “No, don’t answer that. That is cruel of me to ask.” Then, taking a spoonful of the rice and meat, Stolas brought it to Blitz’s lips. “Here, darling. Eat.”
It was weird to be spoonfed by someone who had fucked him senseless, but Blitz took it. He didn’t even taste the food with how quickly he ate it. The more awake he became, the more he noticed the little pains in his body from what they had done. His hips ached, his wounds burned, and his back hurt like a motherfucker.
Still, he didn’t regret it. Albeit looking guilty, Stolas was back to his usual, gentle, stubborn self.
When the food was gone, Stolas nestled Blitz back into the pile of clothes and blankets.
“Cuddle awhile?” Blitz asked, too exhausted to care if it sounded pitiful.
Stolas hesitated but eventually snuggled against him, pulling Blitz close to his body for warmth.
“Thank you, Blitz,” Stolas said quietly. “You didn't owe me that.”
Blitz yawned. “I wanted to help. I know what it’s like.”
“I didn’t know that biting for imps was so…” Stolas paused, searching for the right word. “Intimate, I suppose. Special. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” Blitz lifted his head from Stolas’ hold. “I’m not sorry at all.”
Stolas shook his head. “Darling, I-“
“No, Stolas, listen.” Blitz pushed his aching body up enough to sit and look down at Stolas. “Hear what I’m saying, alright? I’m not good with words, so help me out here. I mean it when I say I don’t regret what we did.” Blitz took Stolas’ hand to kiss it. “And I really fucking mean it when I say I’m happy to wear your mark on me.”
“But for imps, you said that means…” Stolas trailed off, his free hand going to his beak.
“Yeah.” Blitz kissed Stolas’ hand again. “I know.”
Stolas gave Blitz the next kiss, but this time, it was against the bandaging on his shoulder. Stolas was careful, so light that it didn’t sting, and Blitz felt pride knowing that mark would be on him. Forever.
“If you would be amenable,” Stolas whispered. “I should like for you to give me a matching one.”
“That can be arranged,” Blitz said with a grin and snuggled back into the nest with his mate.