Chapter Text
1
It started subtly at first.
After Sinsmas, things shifted between Blitzø and Stolas. Blitzø had been careful with him for weeks, gentle touches and warm glances and kind hands caressing his feathers. At first, it was almost irritating. Stolas didn’t feel like he deserved the gentleness, the kindness, or the softness that Blitzø offered. He had never known the imp to be so thoughtful in all of his actions, or so attentive to even the smallest shifts in Stolas’ demeanor. Blitzø had always been rough and loud and frenzied, but ever since the trial, the sentencing… since that awful day at the palace…
Blitzø had been so tender and it felt wrong. After everything he’d done, the last thing Stolas felt he deserved was this much… understanding. But Blitzø never wavered, even in the moments his frustration built, the assassin kept a remarkably cool head around Stolas. And in the event that he did slip up or snap, it was followed with an apology that fumbled past his lips doused with so much sincerity Stolas didn’t need to hear the words to know the meaning. The longer it went on, the more Stolas could let himself believe that maybe, in some convoluted way, he had earned this.
Then, it started to become apparent that those touches weren’t actually for Stolas’ benefit. Not entirely, at least. Sure, they were comforting touches that often settled Stolas’ rapidly beating heart or soothed his anxieties for a moment. They made his stomach somersault and moths burst forth in his chest, and eventually, they started making him long for more. He wasn’t the only one affected, he could tell because they started to linger more and more. A caress over his cheek, followed by claws settling against his jaw for two seconds too long. A hand on the small of his back, falling to rest against his hip.
The more Stolas let the touches happen, the further they escalated. Not that way, not sexually or sensually. They were just longer, more frequent. Even more casual. Blitzø held his hand as they walked into the office, rested his palm against Stolas’ shoulder as he leaned in to point out something on the computer. When they were on the couch together at the end of the day, Blitzø’s claws would trace random patterns and shapes into the feathers on Stolas’ thigh. They were touching now more than they ever had during their deal. They were touching constantly, and it was almost always initiated by Blitzø, which absolutely thrilled Stolas.
He enjoyed them more, now that they made him feel desired rather than pitied.
He never addressed it, just let it happen, and Blitzø seemed to get more comfortable with it. Touches and hand holding turned to half-hugs and arms slung around shoulders, which in turn escalated to full embraces and cuddling and kisses on the cheek. First thing every morning Stolas was greeted with a gentle kiss planted wherever Blitzø could reach and the imp’s arms wrapped around him, and every night Blitzø would curl up in his arms or settle into his lap to watch a movie. Whatever this had become, they’d fallen into it naturally, and it felt dangerous to address it lest it all fall apart again.
“You two are getting disgusting,” Loona said one morning, half-heartedly glaring at them over her mug of coffee. Blitzø slid a mug to Stolas and planted a kiss on his feathered cheek, smirking at the comment from his daughter. “Seriously, you’re getting worse than Millie and Moxxie — and they’ve been attached at the hip even harder since they found out about the baby.”
Stolas flushed, eyes darting to Blitzø immediately to gauge his reaction. No one had pointed it out yet, what if this was all it took to bring whatever they’d been building to a screeching halt? It wasn’t a secret anymore, it wasn’t hidden.
Blitzø just stuck his forked tongue out at his daughter, still grinning as he shot her the middle finger and turned back to the counter to grab his own coffee mug. “Don’t be jealous, Looney, it’s not a good look.”
Loona curled her lip at the imp, but otherwise let the topic drop, returning to nursing her coffee and largely ignoring the other two. Which was difficult to do when Blitzø returned to Stolas’ side and climbed into his lap. Stolas was surprised, at first, but Blitzø settled on his thighs and leaned back against him. Some of his chest feathers were poking out over the loose, drooping neckline of his sweater and Blitzø turned his head just enough to bury his face in them.
Loona rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll walk to work.”
Blitzø barely turned to address the hellhound. “Take the keys to the van, Stols and I can use the crystal.”
Loona tried valiantly to hide the smile on her lips, but both Stolas and Blitzø caught the edges of it as she swiped the keys and headed out the door.
Now that the other chair was available across the table, Stolas expected Blitzø to slide out of his lap and take it. However, the imp didn’t move, instead sipping at his coffee and scrolling through his phone, comfortably still in Stolas’ lap.
“You know, darling,” Stolas started slowly, still trying to assess if he really wanted to broach the topic. He had been afraid that shedding light on it might make it disappear, like Blitzø’s affections were a cockroach thriving only in the shadows. He continued anyway, testing the waters. “Loona has a point.”
“Yeah, she usually does,” Blitzø replied without looking up. “What about this time? M&M? Moxx really has been extra-doting since Mills got knocked up. What a fuckin’ simp, amirite?”
Stolas looked down at the assassin, still leaning heavily into his chest. He felt the spade of Blitzø’s tail creeping over his hip, starting to curl around his waist.
“You’re one to talk,” Stolas murmured with a soft laugh. “I feel like you’ve not stopped touching me in months.”
Blitzø stiffened at that, his tail dropping, and Stolas immediately dropped one hand to press his talons into Blitzø’s waist. A silent plea with him to stay, don’t move, he didn’t mean that negatively. Blitzø didn’t move away, at least, but he did duck his head down and mutter out a reply, “I — I can stop, if it bothers you — ”
“No, no,” Stolas quickly said, squeezing his hip and leaning down to rub his cheek against one of Blitzø’s horns, trying to return the casual affection to show just how unbothered he is by it. “Not at all. Actually, I… I quite enjoy it.”
He felt Blitzø relax against him once more, head turning to get another good nuzzle into those chest feathers. “Okay. Good.”
“Good.” Stolas repeated, and they both turned back to their slow morning routine and coffee. Blitzø stayed in Stolas’ lap, showing him the occasional meme as he came across it, until both of their mugs were empty and they finally had to get up to get dressed for work.