Chapter Text
Stolas woke up some time later, tangled in a pile of unfamiliar blankets and one all-too familiar imp.
Blitzø was curled up around him, his breathing even and a light purr rumbling in his chest on each exhale. His tail was wrapped loosely around one of Stolas's thighs, and one of his strong, wide hands had made its way up Stolas's side, underneath his sweater, and was gripping the feathers there tightly. His sleeping face was turned up towards Stolas.
He looked so very handsome in his Sinsmas sweater.
And he'd all but asked for Stolas's blessing to begin a relationship with someone else.
Stolas held Blitzø close and wanted to cry, though he had no right to it. And he was so angry with Verosika, too. His friend who had given him so much. She and Blitzø had brought him his daughter back. He owed them everything. He should be happy they'd found each other again.
The fact that, deep down, he halfway wished Verosika had never shown up at their door… It was utterly shameful.
He knew in his heart that Blitzø wasn't choosing her over him. Stolas had never even been in the running. He was only hurting himself, pretending that if it hadn't been Verosika, it wouldn't have just been someone else. He'd only ever been fooling himself, since the beginning, because Blitzø had never truly wanted him. He was lucky even to be counted amongst Blitzø's friends, now, after the mess he'd made of things between them.
(But still, if Verosika wanted Blitzø even half as badly Stolas did, why wasn't she the one here with him, dozing off with him in a museum, tangled up together inside the art?) (Stolas knew why, actually. It was because Blitzø was kind, and he was showing Stolas how to celebrate Sinsmas, at the expense of spending time with the person he would most likely rather be here with instead.)
Blitzø opened his eyes then, and looked at Stolas with bleary confusion. “Stolas?” He asked. “What are you doing here?”
Stolas smiled at him, feeling so terribly fond. “The same thing you are, darling. Celebrating Sloth, I suppose.”
Blitzø sat up to look around in confusion, and Stolas reluctantly let him go. “Oh shit, we fell asleep here?” He asked. Then something seemed to occur to him “Oh, fuck, Stolas, what time is it?”
“No idea,” Stolas said as Blitzø yanked his phone out of his pocket. His eyes bugged out when he saw the time on the screen.
“Aw shit, birdie, we gotta go!” Blitzø said, and dashed to his feet, dragging Stolas along with him.
“Oh my!” Stolas couldn't help exclaiming as Blitzø pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of their little nook and out of the installation and back into the lobby of the museum.
Stolas gazed forlornly at the small gift shop (he probably wouldn't be able to afford anything there anyway) while Blitzø caressed his crystal and yanked Stolas through the resulting portal.
And they were suddenly thrust from a small, sleepy, low-lit museum entranceway to the loud, bustling exterior of a massive stadium style entertainment venue in Pride. Night had fallen, but the whole area was lit up with huge floodlights, and loud, garbled music played from outdoor speakers mounted to every lightpole. Hellborn of every race and sinners of a thousand different varieties swarmed everywhere around them. heading for the venue, where a hundred-foot tall poster of Verosika in a red and white-fur-trimmed minidress and matching hat promised all attendees “A Very Verosika Sinsmas!!”
“Oh!” Stolas said, about all of it.
“Stupid fucking anti portal magic wouldn't just let me go straight inside,” Blitzø grumbled. “Lemme text Ver, we were supposed to go see her backstage before the show but we probably won't have time now.”
“Oh?” Stolas asked, about all of it.
“Yeah,” Blitzø said distractedly, glaring at his phone while he typed into it. “Had some other shit planned, too, but I guess we took a fucking nap instead.”
“Oh,” Stolas said, about all of it. Then he tried, “I thought it was quite a nice nap, though.”
Blitzø looked up from his phone, almost startled. Then he laughed and said, “You’re right. It was a fantastic nap.” He gently took Stolas's hand. “Let's go in, birdie.”
After an argument at the door about whether they were on some sort of list or not (apparently the sort of list one wanted to be on), they were eventually given tickets, apparently for free, and made it inside.
They found their (really quite excellent) seats with very little time to spare, according to Blitzø, and nearly everyone around them had already taken their own seats.
They did have to get up a moment later to allow a fluffy purple cow-like sinner to pass by them with an armload of snacks. Stolas couldn't help but smile as the sinner joined his friends and cheerfully passed the snacks along to a small, close-looking group of other demons. And in return for his trouble, the cow sinner happily received an affectionate kiss on the cheek from a large, long-necked avian demon sitting next to him.
It was wonderful to see such a wide variety of demons here to appreciate Verosika's incredible talent. Stolas was proud to be here in the crowd with his own dearest friend, and to be able to call Verosika a friend as well, and for a moment all his worries slipped to the back of his mind. He bounced slightly in place, waiting eagerly for the show to begin. Somehow he found himself hand-in-hand with Blitzø, unsure who had initiated it, but he barely had time to notice before the lights were lowering and it seemed the show was about to start.
Only a few moments later, out from the dark, a voice swept over the hushed crowd, speaking in a low and serious tone: “Everyone at the Sinsmas party… would like a piece of pie.”
The crowd roared in appreciation for Verosika's art, and Stolas cheered and clapped along with them (unfortunately dropping Blitzø's hand to do so), and he felt quite pleased to imagine her satisfaction at their enthusiasm.
“But everyone at the Sinsmas party…” The crowd quieted again as she spoke once more.
Suddenly a spotlight flipped on, illuminating a single, dynamic figure on the stage, and Verosika Mayday belted out in her impressively powerful singing voice, “Is gonna fucking diiiiie!”
The crowd exploded in cheers and sung-along lyrics as Verosika began strutting energetically across the stage, singing impassionedly about her gruesome, detailed plans for murdering the entire guestlist at her Sinsmas party.
“How wonderful!” Stolas gushed to Blitzø, who was standing on the arms of his seat next to Stolas for a better view over the crowd. “I've been wanting very much to see her perform like this!”
Blitzø grinned back at him and yelled over all the noise, “It's been a while since I've been to a real concert of hers, but it sure looks like she still puts on a good show, huh birdie?”
“Quite excellent so far! Not that I have many entertainment experiences to compare against, but I have to admit, she's rather blowing the Pentagram City Symphony Orchestra out of the water!”
Blitzø cackled so loud that Stolas could hear him distinctly over the roar of the music and the crowd together. And despite the quality of the show, Stolas was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the stage when Blitzø’s eyes were on him, sparkling and wide and affectionate.
Blitzø opened his mouth to say something, but the song was wrapping up (“By the time the night is through, I'm gonna murder you…”), and then Verosika was stepping into center stage.
“Happy Sinsmas, Pride!” she called out, and the crowd roared joyfully back at her. She waited, grinning and breathing hard from her performance, then continued “For all you new sinners out there, welcome to Hell, and no, all those lyrics about being a succubus weren't a fucking metaphor, actually!” The crowd laughed as one, and Verosika laughed breathily into the mic along with them. “Sorry not sorry if you're here ‘cause of some bitchin' bad choices you made at one of my concerts up there. But for all of you, and for anyone else out there who happens to be celebrating Sinsmas for the first time this year, just know there's no better time to think about celebrating my own personal birth sin,” here she pitched her voice down seductively, “mmm, Lust.” The crowd whooped and hollered as she led straight into a song all about that very subject.
Stolas knew this song quite well by now, and the lyrics always made him blush when he listened to it. It was about wanting someone so badly it was physically painful, and experiencing relief only when joining together in intimacy. It was one of her older songs, and Stolas had wondered more than once (okay, every time he'd listened to it) if it was about Blitzø. He didn't know the timeline of their prior relationship exactly, but he could certainly imagine a thousand such songs being written with Blitzø in mind.
He gazed sideways at his concert companion (friend, long-term host, long-held crush), and found him looking as embarrassed as Stolas could ever recall seeing him. Blitzø kept glancing awkwardly between Verosika dancing provocatively on stage and Stolas, a vivid flush on both cheeks and an almost apologetic laughing grimace on his face. “This fucking song,” he said at almost too much of a mutter to be heard.
Perhaps it truly was about Blitzø. Perhaps she was singing it for Blitzø, and Blitzø felt strange about her flirting so publicly with him while she knew Stolas was there to see it, when he was so obviously still… When he so obviously still had feelings for Blitzø as well.
“You know this one well, then?” Stolas asked over the blaring music.
Blitzø snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Heard this one a million times. Heard all the songs from her early career a million times, actually. I know she's sick to death of ‘em all, but I guess she figured some folks would still wanna hear ‘em.”
“New fans, I suppose?” Stolas said, smiling though the anxiety was churning in his stomach. That hadn't answered anything.
“Maybe,” Blitzø said, looking away, up at Verosika’s sultry face emblazoned across one of the massive displays above the stage, projecting her performance out for all to see. “Or maybe old ones looking for something they already know.” He glanced at Stolas with a ghost of a smile. “But, like, new again. Or whatever. You know?”
Stolas could only nod. He knew. He looked up at Verosika's beautiful face as well, and he understood why Blitzø would feel the way he did about her.
He was surprised when Blitzø took his hand once again, but he squeezed it back. He appreciated the comfort, and Blitzø was a wonderful friend.
—
Verosika was the best fucking friend (and the baddest fucking bitch) in all of Hell, and for the lust of Asmodeus if those two shitheads stopped fucking hanging out with her as soon as she helped them get together, after all this, she was gonna stab them both in their fucking sleep.
Probably would only take one stab to do it. Blitzø was a fucking cuddler and Stolas looked like he probably was, too. It would be disgustingly cute, but more to the point: long enough, sharp enough blade, and she could go right through them both at once. Easy.
She was in a great mood though! For a concert she'd decided to put on only a couple of weeks ago, this shit was going fantastic! It'd been shockingly easy to get the venue–they’d only had to lop off one of the drummer’s fingers, and the rest of the band had rolled right over! (Plus they gave it back in the end–she’d probably had it reattached already. And it's not like they'd taken one of the keyboardist’s fingers! Or that douchebag frontman's tongue, tempting as it'd been.)
And here she was, performing for a sold out crowd. The original band wouldn't have filled half the seats! They'd had to pull off a couple of Sinsmas miracles to get the setup and lighting and wardrobe right in time, but they'd all made it work, and everyone involved was making a lot of money.
Anyway, this whole thing was actually an insane fucking Sinsmas present for her new bestie so that he could get pounded into the fucking mattress by someone she happened to know was actually (unfortunately) pretty good at pounding people into mattresses. (Even if he did always want to cuddle afterwards)
Oh and also, it seemed like they were in love, or whatever.
Which low key pissed her off, but like she'd said a million times in a million venues just like this, she was definitely over Blitzø. And these days, she was even mostly over the fact that she'd had to get over him, too. Over it enough to recognize that he might actually be good for Stolas, anyway. Over it enough that she could call them friends again. Definitely over it enough that she would've been pretty fucking devastated if he'd just fucking died like she'd thought he was going to.
So anyway, she'd sung some Sinsmas songs, and some sexy songs, a couple of songs that were neither, and she hadn't sung a single breakup song, because tonight wasn't for breaking up.
And now it was time for the real showstopper.
“You all feeling good tonight?” She asked the crowd, her own words echoing back to her from around the arena, and she basked in their cheering adoration. She shot a fist in the air.“That's right you are! It's fucking Sinsmas, bitches!” She waited for the whoops and whistles to die down.
“I wanna thank you all for coming out here tonight. Being here with all of you is the best Sinsmas gift a girl could ever ask for, and Nana can just fuck off with that hand-knitted scarf bullshit!” Her fans laughed, and she apologized to her Nana in her heart, where no one could hear. “But I wanted to tell you all about two very special morons in my life who are also here with us tonight. One of them I haven't known that long, but he's really something special. And I want him to know he deserves friendship and family and all the love and happiness in Hell, and I'm allowed to say this shit tonight, cause it's Sinsmas, bitches!” She waited for the cheers and laughter to die down again.
“The other one, I've known for a long time. I've even written a couple of songs about him. He knows which ones. And he's a fucking idiot. But he– well, they both went through some shit recently. And that shit made me think… I'm glad this fucking idiot is still alive. And I thought… if I'm so fucking glad he's alive… I should make sure he's back in my life.” She realized her voice was getting a bit thick and she quickly wiped away a tear at the edge of her eyes. “Because he's something pretty special too. Whether he thinks so or not. And even though I know he doesn't believe it, he deserves a shot at real happiness, too.” She smiled wide and saw her own gorgeously-made-up face smiling back at her from the massive screens to either side of herself. “So, with that in mind… Here's a song I wrote… about new beginnings.”
The band started in on the first few notes of a brand new, never before performed song, and the crowd went abso-fucking-lutely apeshit bananas.
And then Verosika began to sing. And she sang her fucking heart out and the audience ate it up,
It was a song about Blitzø and his feelings for Stolas, based on thoughts she'd dragged out of him bit by excruciating bit. About being together but not really being together. About confessions and misunderstandings and being alone and missing your one chance to be with that person who made you feel something. About facing oblivion and coming out with an unexpected second chance. About growing closer and fixing rifts you thought you'd never have an opportunity to heal. About falling in love all over again and actually knowing it this time. About wanting more.
That was how Blitzø felt. And though Stolas shut things down so fucking quickly every time she tried to talk to him about Blitzø, she knew he felt the same.
So, when she'd sung the last note, she stood there for a moment, letting the cheers wash over her, and she spoke the title: “A Song for Blitzø.” Then the screens around her filled with Blitzø's shocked, nervous face as one of the cameras zoomed in on him, then zoomed out to bring both him and Stolas (similarly shocked, staring up at one of the displays) into frame. “I hope you liked it, baby. It's all up to you, now.”
On the display, Blitzø visibly gathered his resolve, and touched Stolas on the shoulder to get his attention.
He said something to Stolas, smile wide and eyes shining.
Stolas said something back, confused.
Blitzø said something back.
Any moment now, they were going to kiss in front of all these fucking people and Verosika would be the one who'd made it happen.
Stolas said something, looking… upset?
Blitzø said something, looking confused now, himself.
Stolas said something.
Blitzø said something.
Stolas said something, then he visibly burst into tears, pushed past Blitzø, and ran away, escaping down the aisle and up the arena stairs. The camera zoomed back in on Blitzø, still at his seat, looking devastated. He looked up in what was probably Verosika’s direction and made a baffled, exaggerated shrugging motion, then he jumped out of his seat and tore off after Stolas.
The screens abruptly cut away and filled with Verosika's own, wide-eyed, blinking face.
“I, uh… Didn't expect that,” she said, stupidly. Then she quickly got it together and gestured to her band to skip the next song in their planned setlist (an upbeat song about being in love (even if it didn't use the word) called Fuck The H8rs), and they went right into the next one (an unserious seasonal song called Ice My Sinsmas Cookie).
She tried to focus on the music, but her mind was on Stolas and Blitzø. She really hoped they worked it out.
Because if not, and Blitzø managed to catch her? She knew no one would ever find her body.
—
Stolas was such a fucking idiot. He'd humiliated himself. He'd humiliated Blitzø and Verosika. Why couldn't he have just kept his feelings to himself? Sucked it up and acted happy for his two dearest friends? His throat and lungs burned and his heart felt like it was tearing into pieces. He longed to go into the sanctuary of his full demon form, where he felt powerful and problems seemed like specks of dust to be blown away by a single stroke of his wings. He longed for the magic to fly – for a portal to take him to the farthest reaches of the universe. For anything other than his own two weak legs and his even weaker respiratory system to take him away from this misery.
But he no longer had any of those capabilities. This was exactly as capable as he was without the benefits of his birthrights. This was all he was: a gasping, crying, bumbling idiot in a sweater advertising all of his worst sins.
No wonder Blitzø didn't want him.
The only thing Stolas couldn't understand was why… Why Blitzø thought he should have any input on this decision at all!
He burst through a pair of doors and out into the chill of an evening in Pride in December. He was… somewhere. Somewhere he probably wasn't supposed to be. But it wasn't so bright and it wasn't so loud here, and he could sort of, sort of begin to think.
Verosika had sung a new song. Clearly it'd been about Blitzø. She'd named it for him! Stolas hadn't understood all the lyrics, but he'd understood enough. And he'd known anyway: she was still in love with him, she felt they were rekindling something they'd thought they'd lost. She wanted a relationship with him again.
Stolas had known exactly what he was listening to, even before she’d called Blitzø out by name. And he'd spent the song growing increasingly cold and numb. Because it was a beautiful gesture. Bold, unashamed, and from the heart. Blitzø would be foolish not to accept.
He hadn't expected the camera on Blitzø, and neither had Blitzø, from the sound he'd made. But Stolas was quite sure he'd soon be watching his darling’s face light up, and he'd give some sign he felt the same. Perhaps, he'd thought, he was about to watch Blitzø jump out of his seat, run up to the stage, and pull Verosika in for a passionate kiss.
How terribly romantic he'd find it all, if only he could look at it as a neutral observer.
Still, he'd steeled himself for it to happen, and when his own face had appeared along with Blitzø’s on the massive screens, he'd wondered what it would be like to see his heart broken in real time.
But then Blitzø had turned to him, smiling wide, eyes shining, and he'd said, “Well, Stols, how ‘bout it?”
And Stolas had looked back at him, mystified by this turn of events. “How… ‘bout it?” he'd asked.
And Blitzø had taken Stolas's hands in his and said, “Yeah! I mean, you heard the song, didn't you? Verosika wrote it for me. And it's how I feel, so… What do you think?”
“What do I think…? Blitzø, I– I don't think it should be up to me.” Why– Did Blitzø want his blessing before he'd start seeing Verosika? Hadn't Stolas already tried? Blitzo couldn't do this to Stolas, make him verbally give up on his love in front of thousands of people. It was cruel.
For some insane reason, Blitzø had looked just as lost as Stolas felt at that response. “What do you mean it shouldn't be up to you?” He asked. “You definitely get a fucking opinion on this, too.”
“No, I– Blitzø…” He couldn't. “Don't ask me this, please. You need to do what will make you happy.”
“I– Stolas, come on– I'm asking you to– This would make me happy.” He squeezed Stolas's hands tightly between his own, “If you– If you agree. But you don't have to. I just… You don't have to explain, but can you… Do you think you can just give me a yes or a no?”
Stolas looked at him, horrified. He wasn't strong enough to say yes. To tell Blitzø that he would be okay seeing him with another person. Kissing her, holding her… Telling her he loved her. And here Blitzø was, forcing him into a corner. He couldn't do it. “Then,” he had said, mortified to feel his eyes welling up with tears, “If it truly matters to you what I think about it. Then… the answer is no."
Blitzø looked like Stolas had shot him through the heart. “Oh,” he started to say.
But, overcome with the realization that he'd just denied his dearest friends a chance at happiness out of the selfishness of his own heart, Stolas felt a sob bubble up from deep in his chest. And he'd simply run away before he could embarrass himself further.
So now he was here, collapsed against a wall, head in his hands, feeling so stupid. He had his daughter back. He had friends he could rely on. Why could he never be happy with what he had? Why could he not allow others to be happy when they had done so much for him? He was certainly checking all the Sinsmas boxes, celebrating greed and envy in spades, and perhaps even wrath at himself. His own birth sin was perhaps the only one he hadn't celebrated for his first Sinsmas. Because what in Hell did he even have to be proud of?
The door next to Stolas burst open and Blitzø raced out, looking frantically side to side. He looked as though he were about to start running off in some direction at random, and Stolas considered letting him go, but he found himself saying, “I'm here, Blitzø,” in a soft voice.
Blitzø jumped, looking so charmingly like a startled cat, and he whipped around to face Stolas. “Wow, Stols, your legs are so long!” He commented, out of breath.
Stolas smiled weakly at him.
Blitzø walked over and sat down next to him, against the wall, not looking at him. “Are you okay?” He asked.
Stolas stared at him in disbelief. “Am I okay?” He parroted.
“Yeah!” Blitzø still wasn't looking at him. He was using one finger to idly push around a leaf lying on the concrete between them. “I mean, we kinda took you by surprise back there. Well– I wasn't expecting the fucking… live stream to the whole fucking stadium, but… I dunno. I put you on the spot, and you seemed pretty freaked out. I really thought… Well. It doesn't matter. I had the wrong idea. So. I'm sorry for pressuring you. I should've… Well, I shoulda just kept my fucking mouth shut.” He sighed heavily, unsteadily.
“Blitzø…” Stolas said. He stayed silent for a moment, deciding what to say. How to explain himself. “Blitzø, you certainly aren't wrong for wanting to find some happiness in this place. And you've done so much for me. You've… you've suffered. Quite a lot. Sometimes by my own actions, I know. And I want you to be happy. I truly do. But… my darling, I am selfish. I am so very selfish, and you asked me to tell you directly, yes or no. And I just couldn't–”
“Stolas–” Blitzø cut him off, slightly sharp, extremely pained, and Stolas's chest hurt to think he'd caused that pain again. “Stolas,” he said again, more gently. “It's okay.”
“It's not,” Stolas said. “I wish you hadn't asked me.”
He heard Blitzø’s breath catch.
“I know you… I suppose you must care about me. A great deal. That you would be willing to put aside your happiness to spare me pain. But I don't– Blitzø, you should have just… You didn't need to ask me if it was okay. You should have just. Done what will make you happiest.”
Now Blitzø looked at him, still pained. But also confused now. “What– Stolas, what do you mean by that? What do you mean I shouldn't have asked? That I should've just done it?”
It was Stolas's turn to look away. “I mean, I don't truly understand why my opinion factors into your decision at all. It's kind of you to think of me, and I won't lie and tell you it wouldn't… well, sadden me. But you deserve to take your happiness where you can, Blitzø. If you want to begin a relationship, you should do so, regardless of my feelings on the matter.”
Blitzø was quiet for a long time, and Stolas expected he was mulling it over. Deciding whether or not he could accept that Stolas wasn’t– could never be– entirely supportive of him dating someone else. Perhaps deciding if Stolas was mentally well enough not to make it his problem.
Stolas decided to set his fears at ease. “I won't make a fuss, you know. Whatever you decide. Whatever you want to do. I'll bear it.”
He risked a glance at Blitzø and was startled to see he was peering at Stolas like he'd lost his mind. They stared at each other for a moment before Blitzø finally spoke. “Stolas, what the fuck are you even saying? Do you seriously think I'd, what? Fucking force you into a relationship with me? Whether you want it or not?”
The gears in Stolas's brain ground to a halt.
“I mean, how would I even– Why would I even–? You seriously think that would make me happy? You'll fucking bear it? Christ Stolas, I– What kind of fucked up–?”
Stolas slowly turned to face Blitzø while he spoke, trying to make what Blitzø had said– was still saying– align with his understanding of the situation. He cut him off. “Blitzø, wait. I don't understand. Who is forcing me into anything? What do I have to do with this? We're talking about your relationship with Verosika right now.”
Blitzø blinked unevenly. “We are?” He asked, sounding lost.
Stolas was lost as well. “...Weren't we?”
"What relationship with Verosika?” Blitzø asked.
“The… one you want to start?” Stolas tried.
“The one I want to– Stolas I don't want to start a fucking relationship with Verosika!” Blitzø shouted.
“Yes you do!” Stolas shouted back, then realized that was an insane thing to argue. “Or, well, she wants one with you! She sang you that song! She put you on the spot!”
Blitzø's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. “No the fuck she doesn't! Stolas! That song was about you and me! She was putting us both on the spot!”
“What? No!” Stolas argued, “It was about– it was about being in a tumultuous sexually-motivated relationship, breaking up traumatically, then losing contact, THEN reconnecting after thinking she was going to lose you, becoming friends, and THEN wanting more–Oh my Lucifer, that could describe us, as well.”
Blitzø, who was categorically the loudest laugher Stolas had ever known, proceeded to laugh the loudest and longest Stolas had ever heard him laugh.
“Are you- are you sure Verosika wasn't singing about herself?” Stolas demanded over his cackles. “What if she thinks you've rejected her?”
Blitzø managed to get himself under control. “The whole thing was her stupid fucking idea, Stols! And she asked me like a million questions about you and me and ran the final version by me, so yeah, I'm pretty fucking sure.”
“Oh,” Stolas said, blinking.
He thought there was probably some conclusion he should be coming to about what this all meant. But the gears were still stuck.
Blitzø propped an elbow up on one of his bent knees, and rested his chin in his hand, half hiding a wide grin while he gazed directly at Stolas, so handsome it made Stolas's stomach swoop. “Shit. So. You, uh, didn't want me to get together with Verosika then, huh?”
Stolas could feel his face heating. “Well– Well I– I do recall saying you should do it regardless of my feelings on the matter…”
“Nuh uh uh,” Blitzø said, his grin getting wider. "You said it would sadden you. You said you would bear it.”
“Oh, well.” Stolas laughed nervously. “I do tend toward the dramatic, don't I?”
“Mhm,” Blitzø said, leaning a little bit closer in. “You know, I like that about you.”
“O- oh,” Stolas said, unaccountably flustered. “You do?”
“Mhm,” Blitzø said, and suddenly his teasing smile went soft. “I like a lot of things about you.”
The jammed gears in Stolas's brain started to wiggle loose. “You do?”
“Sure I do,” Blitzø said. Then he was quiet.
“S-so,” Stolas started, deciding he'd figure out what he was saying as he said it. “If the song was about me. A- about us...”
“Mhm.”
“And you personally approved the final version…”
“Mhm.”
“Then that's… that's how you feel about… me? You want more with me?”
Blitzø adjusted his hand so it was no longer obscuring his warm smile. “Yeah,” he said simply. “If that's what you want too.” His smile turned slightly rueful as he continued, “You– you don't actually have to answer right now, though. It was shitty of Ver to put us on the spot like that. And even shittier of me to try to make you give a yes or a no right away.” He huffed out a laugh, almost to himself. “To be honest, it's enough for me right now, just finding out you don't wanna share me with Verosika.” His grin turned giddy, but he still added, “You can take some time to think about it.”
“I don't need any time to think at all, Blitzø,” Stolas said.
Blitzø’s smile turned nervous. “Okay,” he said, eyes locked on Stolas's.
There had been a time when Stolas couldn't have imagined such a wide array of Blitzø smiles as he was seeing in this single conversation.
He reached up between them to lay a hand on one of Blitzø's beloved cheeks. Blitzø covered the hand with one of his own and leaned into it, eyes going wide and hopeful. And Stolas said, “I want more with you, too, darling. Of course I do. I always have.”
Blitzø's eyes filled with tears and they crinkled up and his smile went so very, very wide. “Okay,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Uh huh. Gotta admit, that's kinda more like what I was hoping you'd say the first time.”
Stolas laughed and brought his other hand up to cup Blitzø's other cheek, and he brought his forehead down to touch Blitzø's. “I assure you, I would have. If you'd simply used your words and asked me, darling.”
Blitzø laughed too and pushed his forehead up into Stolas’s more firmly, almost nuzzling him. “I thought you'd appreciate getting the message in song.”
Stolas nuzzled back happily. “I would've appreciated getting the message at all even more.”
“You're right. This was all a really dumb idea. Can I kiss you anyway?”
“Please do.”
Blitzø surged up from his seat on the ground next to Stolas and pressed his lips firmly to Stolas's beak. And Stolas kissed him back. And Blitzø wrapped his arms around Stolas's back and held him tight, and Stolas felt like he was exactly where he belonged, and he was so very, very pleased to be back.
All too soon, Blitzø was pulling his mouth away from Stolas's, but he continued to hold onto him, so Stolas was inclined to forgive.
“Was that alright?” Blitzo asked him, gently.
“More than,” Stolas assured him with a happy sigh.
Blitzø smiled dreamily at him.
“Should we perhaps go back in and get the attention of a camera operator to let Verosika know we've sorted things out?” Stolas asked.
“Ah, can't wait to show her you won, can you?” Blitzø teased, tugging Stolas even closer to him. “You know it wasn't really a competition, right?”
Stolas let out a little chuckle. “Well. A little celebration of pride on Sinsmas wouldn't go amiss, would it? Now that I have something to show off.”
Blitzø laughed and kissed him again, quickly, and said, “Let her finish her concert, and we'll tell her when she's done.” Then he smirked. “We'll find other ways to celebrate the season later, if you want.”
“Happy Sinsmas, Blitzø,” Stolas said, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
“Happy Sinsmas, Stolas.” Blitzø said, and leaned in to kiss him again and again.