Work Text:
By some miracle, Stolas was finally alone.
The too-early cheerful greetings, the clattering of cupboard doors, the nags for him and Loona to get out of bed - he'd managed to sleep through all of it, for once, and the apartment was quieter than it had been in weeks. The sun peeked through his eyelids, but Stolas was determined not to waste the blissful quiet that blanketed the empty apartment and kept his eyes screwed shut.
Perhaps he'd managed to oversleep his way into an impromptu day off.
Perhaps it would stay this quiet, and he could stay on this couch all day.
Perhaps he could sink into the dull, numbing comfort of bad television and cereal.
Perhaps a drink.
Unless...
The walls shook with a loud bang as the door was kicked open, and just like that, the dream was over.
"Gooooooood morning sleepyhead!" Blitzø crooned as the sound of his keys crashing onto the table echoed across the apartment.
"Mmf." Stolas pulled the blanket over his head and desperately clung to the sleep he'd been drifting into, but it slipped through his fingers with every second that passed.
"It's late, birdy boy! I wanted to let you sleep in a bit, but you gotta get up," Blitzø said, gently tugging on the blanket. "I know I'm a pretty cool boss, but you gotta actually come to work if you wanna get paid."
Stolas finally opened his eyes to see Blitzø grinning down at him, with the same encouraging smile he wore every morning.
And, like every morning lately, Stolas found that smile to be effortlessly charming, incredibly endearing, and very... annoying.
"I brought you an iced coffee!"
Blitzø scampered over the back of the couch to sit next to Stolas and thrust a plastic takeout cup into his hands. The sugar seemed to hit Stolas's veins before it reached his tongue - if coffee was present in the drink at all, its awakening effects would pale in comparison to the tooth-rotting sweetness that sat thick in his throat like bile. He considered it an admirable feat that he was able to stifle his cough before Blitzø noticed.
"I didn't know what to get you, so I just got you my usual. You like it?"
Stolas offered the most enthusiastic smile he could muster, which he was sure was far closer to a grimace. "Mmm."
The imp happily sipped his own cup with a satisfied grin. "Well, we've got a client coming in at 10:15, so we better get going," Blitzø chirped as he leapt off the couch. "Up and at 'em!"
With a prolonged groan, Stolas got to his feet and trudged to the bathroom. He stretched his arms upwards in a desperate attempt to alleviate the tension in his back that had plagued him daily since trading his plush four-poster for a sofa; instead, his fist collided with the ceiling and showered him in tiny specks of dust and plaster. He resigned himself to sitting on the edge of the bathtub to dress, but found himself stuck in place halfway through putting on his pants, glaring at the cup of coffee on the sink.
He knew that he should be grateful for a room to dress in and a sofa to sleep on. But the fact of the matter was, a profound dissatisfaction had been gnawing at Stolas, deep in his gut. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
The problem wasn't the cramped space or the uncomfortable couch. It wasn't even that Blitzø was, against all odds, a fucking morning person.
The problem was that ever since the trial, Blitzø had been utterly caring, considerate, kind, and sweet to him in every way imaginable. No matter how much Stolas grumbled or complained or cried - and that was happening more often these days than he would like to admit - Blitzø was always smiling at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. And since the night Octavia left Stolas's life, Blitzø continually gifted him tiny tender touches; not quite romantic, but certainly not just friendly, either. They hadn't danced or kissed or even hugged again in the months since that day - but still, Stolas couldn't ignore the doting affection that emanated in every hand placed gently on his shoulder, every playful nudge, and every accidental graze of fingertips.
This wasn't the Blitzø he knew. The old Blitzø would never have made him breakfast or folded his clothes or bought him a coffee. The old Blitzø, the real Blitzø, hated cuddling and ignored his texts. He wouldn't put up with Stolas's sarcastic comments or increasingly frequent bad moods. The real Blitzø would respond with a snarky reply or scathing remark or a cold shoulder or even a screaming match.
This Blitzø wasn't the real Blitzø, not really. It was all just a lie. A façade borne from pity, one that couldn't last forever.
With a heavy sigh, Stolas willed himself to keep moving and retrieved his medication from the cabinet. The plastic cup was still sitting on the bathroom counter; Stolas considered it for a moment, but thought better of it and decided to just dry-swallow the pills. He had meant to wash his face and clean his feathers today, but he'd wallowed in his thoughts for too long again; it was already past 10:00. Tomorrow, then.
Before he left the bathroom, he poured most of the coffee down the sink, leaving just enough to take the final sip at the office so Blitzø wouldn't know where the rest of it had gone.
--
"Morning, sirs!"
"Hello, Moxxie. Just 'Stolas' is fine," Stolas murmured as he and Blitzø stepped through the portal into the office.
"I've told you already, Moxx, the only 'Sir' around here is the one that pays your fucking bills," Blitzø snapped as he lobbed his empty coffee cup at the trash can. "Pick that up for me, will ya?"
Moxxie scowled as he retrieved Blitzø's discarded cup from the floor and placed it into the bin. "You're late again, Blitz. We have a client coming in-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I had to get a coffee."
"Yes, well, I don't think a coffee run is a good enough reason to show up late to work." Moxxie crossed his arms. "Just my opinion. Sir."
Stolas became painfully aware of his untidy headfeathers and attempted to smooth them with his free hand. "Actually, I -"
"Moxxie, you know I'm banned from the coffee shop next door, I had to go to the one two blocks away," Blitzø shrugged. He gave a half-glance in Stolas's direction and shook the drink tray in his hands. "'Sides, I got you guys one too, see?"
Millie smirked. "But, if you're portalling here, that wouldn't actually change-"
"Christ on a stick, we don't have time for an interrogation! We have a client coming in four minutes!" Blitzø snapped, and Millie and Moxxie shared a look. At this, Blitzø brightened and gave the drink tray in his hands another shake. "We've got a busy day of kicking ass ahead of us, team! So grab yourself some coffee-" his smile stiffened ominously, "- and get back to work."
Millie rolled her eyes and flashed a toothy grin at Stolas before grabbing her coffee from the tray and wandering over to the weapons closet. Stolas trudged over to his desk and slumped heavily into his chair, coffee cup still in hand. He glared at the phone, practically daring it to ring so he could slam it down on the next customer that tried his patience. It would be a fitting punishment for both the caller and the dreaded phone itself; Stolas had grown to hate the thing on principle, and that hatred was stronger than ever today. He was not ready for another day of forced niceties and petulant whines from entitled clients.
He lifted his gaze to find Moxxie staring at him perplexedly, until Blitzø pointedly shoved the coffee tray into the smaller imp's hands before heading into his office. "Moxx, go do something useful for a change."
Moxxie watched as Blitzø slammed his office door behind him before turning to Stolas. "Is… everything alright, sir?"
"Oh, I'm just splendid, thank you." Stolas avoided eye contact by rereading the same post-it note four times in a row. He absentmindedly took a sip from his drink, and immediately regretted doing so.
Moxxie set the coffee tray down and leaned against Stolas's desk, apparently not getting the hint. "Okay, that's good... I just… wanted to make sure things were okay. Blitzø can be a bit of a frustrating boss, I can't imagine having him as a roommate, so..."
"Ah, no, Blitzø has been perfectly pleasant. A very generous host and a very understanding boss. I've no complaints." Stolas finally tossed the vile confection in the trashcan, and mustered up a smile that he prayed was convincing enough to swiftly end the conversation.
Moxxie perked up a bit. "Well, that's good. I'm glad he's being far nicer than usual."
On that, Stolas could not disagree more.
--
The harsh chime of Stolas's alarm jolted him awake. He fumbled for his phone to silence the damned thing quickly enough so as not to miss his chance to continue sleeping. He groggily tapped the snooze button, tossed his phone back onto the floor, and relaxed into the silence just long enough to sink back into blissful, quiet sleep.
"Morning, Stols!"
Damn.
"Mmmmmmph." Stolas pulled the blanket over his head.
"Want an iced coffee? I'm about to go grab some."
"Mnnnnph."
"Is… that a yes?"
Stolas yanked the blanket off his head and sighed. Blitzø was standing at the foot of his bed - or rather, at the arm of the couch - and beaming down at him. Again. "No, I'm alright. I'll make coffee here."
Blitzø's eyes lit up. "I'll make it! Want breakfast to go with it?"
Stolas groaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "No, Blitz, I'm fine. Thanks." He stalked off to the bathroom before Blitzø could say another word.
Stolas had never been much of an early riser, and years of lazy mornings and late-night star charting sessions had made the task of adjusting to his new sleep schedule even more daunting. He'd been making a solid effort to try to wake up early enough to take a nice bath and avoid the typical morning pleasantries, but no matter how hard Stolas tried, Blitzø somehow always woke up before him. Stolas had started to wonder if Blitzø even set an alarm or if he just rose with the sun - that certainly seemed to be the case in the before times, when Stolas would awake the morning of the waning gibbous to find the other side of the bed cold and long empty. These days, Blitzø was always there to greet him every morning. It was something Stolas could have only dreamed of, back in his old life. It seemed particularly cruel that the fates would grant him this wish, and yet somehow take from him the ability to truly appreciate it.
Only 99 more years of this. It might as well be an eternity.
His head, heart, and bones aching in tandem, Stolas pulled on yesterday's sweater and braced himself for another day of forced smiling.
He slumped into one of the kitchen chairs and awkwardly arranged his legs under the tiny table as Blitzø presented him with a mug of what was probably coffee - though it was hard to tell under the mountain of whipped cream.
"Made you Loony's favourite, a mocha! Well, kind of. It's got hot chocolate in it though, and it's really good," Blitzø beamed, pausing to take a sip of his own towering confection that, inexplicably, was topped with a dog biscuit. "Ah, I almost forgot." Blitzø bounced on his toes and dashed back to the stove, returning to the table just a moment later with a frying pan full of scrambled eggs.
"I said I didn't want breakfast." The words were so clipped and cold that it took a moment for Stolas to register that they'd come from his own beak.
Blitzø's smile faltered for just a moment. "Uh… yeah, Stols, this is for me. Unless you wanted s-"
"No, I don't. I don't want any of this." Again, Stolas's voice was strangely unlike his own, but so blissfully discourteous and direct that he didn't try at all to stop it, even while Blitzø gaped at him from across the table. "If I need something, I can do it myself. I don't want your breakfast, or your coffee, or your pity."
Blitzø's look of bewilderment turned into a snarl. "Stolas, for fuck's sake. I'm not pitying you. I'm just trying to help." As Stolas met the imp's glare, a fire ignited inside him.
A familiar blazing heat was swelling in his chest, warming him from the inside out.
There it is. There he is.
The real Blitzø was back, finally peeking through the charade. And Stolas couldn't help but to help the process along, despite his better judgement.
"I didn't ask for your help. With any of it."
"So, what, you were just going to leave that courtroom and… what? Go live on the street?"
Stolas could almost detect a hint of a tremble in Blitzø's voice, which nearly gave him pause. But the flames were rising, burning far too hot and feeling far too good, and Stolas knew he wasn't strong enough to step backwards into the cold nothingness again. There was no turning back now, even if he had wanted to.
"I told you before, you owe me nothing. You needn't feel any guilt, and you don't have to pretend to care any longer."
"Pretend?" The table shook, and Stolas's coffee toppled to the floor as Blitzø leapt to his feet. "All I'm trying to do is help you feel better!"
Art by PossumMox
Stolas' face flushed as the flames burned hotter, and he savoured the bitter anger as it rushed through him. After months of hollow numbness, he had begun to think he'd lost the ability to feel anything altogether - it was a comfort to know his heart wasn't as empty as he'd feared. He could almost cry with relief at the thought. He found himself wiping at his eyes in a practiced motion but was surprised to find that they were dry, despite the fact that Blitzø's were becoming increasingly less so.
Suddenly, Stolas couldn't bear to look at Blitzø any longer, and he fixed his gaze on the wallpaper instead. "You've tried your best. But it's not working. So you might as well stop trying and just leave me alone."
He heard Blitzø growl and anticipated a harsh retort, but the imp suddenly stopped, whirled on his heels, and stomped out of the kitchen with his spikes raised. Stolas waited for the curses and the screams and pointed words with jagged edges that were sure to follow. He craved it - the comfort of the sting, the release, the pain, the passion, all tearing into him over and over again and reminding him that he was still breathing.
Instead, the front door slammed so hard that the picture frames on the wall shuddered, and Stolas was alone.
--
In the stillness of the tiny kitchen, Stolas sat frozen in place with his eyes trained on the front door. Any satisfaction he had managed to find with his petty ruse had disappeared in an instant, and he was left only with a creeping feeling of panic and knots in his stomach. Stolas didn't know how long - it could have been minutes, hours, days even. Regardless, it was a torturously long time before he was finally able to locate some relief in the small collection of bottles that were haphazardly stashed above the refrigerator. The bourbon hit his throat with a familiar burn that set a shiver down his feathers, and the knots loosened just enough for Stolas to breathe again.
"You, uh... want a mixer for that, maybe?"
Stolas whirled around and felt a sharp sting of pain as the back of his head hit the cupboard door. He had no idea how long Loona had been watching him; judging by her bemused expression, it had probably been far longer than he would have liked. He considered attempting polite conversation to distract from his pilfering, but he simply couldn't muster the energy. It seemed that ship had sailed, anyhow.
"Nope." He took another small swig from the bottle.
"Hardcore." She smirked and grabbed her coffee mug from the counter. "If you ever manage to find my stash, use a glass though, yeah?"
"Certainly," Stolas grumbled as he slouched back into one of the dining chairs. He felt Loona's eyes boring into him from across the room.
"You wanna talk about it?" Loona asked, leaning a little too casually against the counter.
"I'm sure I don't have any idea what you mean."
"Well, I mean, I'm not deaf. It's a small apartment, Stolas."
Stolas sighed. "Sorry. I wasn't aware you were still home. But I don't think there's much else to say, really."
Loona said nothing and sipped her coffee.
"It's not that I'm not grateful for his kindness. I'm forever in debt to him, and to you, of course, for allowing me to stay here these past few months."
Loona shrugged half-heartedly, but said nothing.
"I know he's being helpful. I know he has good intentions. And… I know that I'm behaving rather monstrously."
Loona watched Stolas intently, expression unreadable, and said nothing.
"I suppose I'm just not comfortable with Blitz's kind of…" Stolas trailed off and stared down at the smashed mug on the floor.
"…love?" Loona finally offered.
Stolas momentarily felt a flutter in his chest and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This conversation had gone from refreshingly candid to incredibly personal in far too short a time for his liking. "Support," Stolas finally responded. "I would say support is the proper word."
Loona scoffed. "Whatever you want to call it, sure. But I get what you mean. He's a lot, it's really annoying. He can't help but shower people with affection. It's, like, his thing," She raised her mug of coffee, which Blitzø had apparently left on the counter for her. It was topped with whipped cream and another dog biscuit. "As you can see."
Stolas watched Loona sip her drink, shifting uncomfortably in the awkward silence as he waited for her to elaborate. He was determined to say nothing so that she could be the one to break the silence for once. Unfortunately, Loona was far better at this game than he was, and she won in the end.
"Sometimes, it feels like his… ah, support… is too strong. Too sweet. Too kind. And it's not something I'm used to… it doesn't feel like it's even… real? I- I just don't know. I guess I don't think I… well…. I don't think I'm accustomed to it." Stolas fidgeted with his talons.
"Well, you'd better get used to it, because it's very fucking real, whether you like it or not. That's just what he's like. You should know that by now." Loona turned her back to him, her voice suddenly cold.
Stolas groaned and buried his head in his hands. Not only was he finding this conversation to be far less illuminating than he'd hoped, now he'd gone and annoyed his other roommate. But Blitzø was right, he had no where else to go, so they were obligated to keep him, yet another injustice he'd laid at their feet. His talons grazed his forehead painfully as he tightened his grip and the panic began to set in once again. How low he'd sunk, what a burden he'd become… or perhaps he'd always been a burden - certainly, Via seemed to think so - and how could she not, her life was certainly so much easier, better without him - surely Blitzø felt the same - how could he have been so stupid, to think that he could ever deserve his love, her love, anyone's-
"…how do you usually take it?"
"I… what?"
"Your coffee. I asked you how you take your coffee. Do you want anything in it?" Stolas came back to himself in an instant, disoriented and numb. He looked up to see Loona pouring the last of the coffee into a fresh mug. Though her expression was as inscrutable as ever, it did seem to have softened slightly.
"Ah. Just as it is. Please."
As Loona reached over to pass him the mug, she finally spotted the mess on the floor. "Aw, man, not the yellow one! I liked that one."
"Sorry. That was my fault."
"Nah, don't worry about it, it happens. Blitz and I break shit around here every other day." Loona stooped to pick up the pieces of the shattered mug, and Stolas noticed that even while kneeling, she towered over the table, just like he did.
In that moment, he was reminded that the very sweater he was wearing, the only clothes he had owned in the entire world at one point, was a gift from her. She, of course, was the only one of his roommates or coworkers that was close enough to his size to be able to do such a thing - but she chose to give him this simple gift when he needed it most, and never once asked for anything in return. He had never stopped to ask himself why she would do such a thing, seeing as they'd had little to no actual meaningful interaction before that day - or since, really, until now. Perhaps she had understood how isolated and out of place he felt in this strange new world. How hard it was to start over. How incredibly, inexplicably small he felt right now. And most importantly, she may be one of the only people in all of Hell who could understand what it was like to experience Blitzø's particular brand of affection.
He had to thank her for the sweater. And the coffee. And for her help with Via, both times - gods, he owed her so much. He looked up to find she had disappeared from the kitchen and was already halfway towards the door.
"Loona, I -"
"I'm goin' to work. I'll cover the phone for you. Just go talk to Dad, will you?"
"I - well. Yes, I should. I would, certainly, but I have no clue where he might have gone."
Loona tilted her head towards the balcony. "Give you one guess." Stolas followed her gaze and spotted a familiar tail gently swaying from the fire escape outside. "Good luck."
The door was halfway closed behind her before the panic seized him again. "Loona? When does this get easier?"
"What?"
"Blitz's… support. When does it get easier to handle?"
"I mean… you get used to it, I guess." Loona gripped the door handle and stared down at her feet. "And I think you'll kind of start to believe it, just a little bit, after a while."
"Believe what?"
"That you deserve kindness. That you're as good as he thinks you are," she said quietly.
"Wh… when does that happen?"
"Working on it. I'll keep you posted."
And the door closed behind her.
--
"Blitz?"
Blitzø's tail flicked slightly in reply. Stolas balanced the mugs in one hand and gently closed the door behind him. Blitzø was perched halfway up the staircase, his boot heel tapping a frantic rhythm on the metal. He took a drag of his cigarette before handing it down to Stolas, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the building across the street.
"Thanks. Is it alright if I stay a while?"
Blitzø gave a nearly imperceivable nod, but still did not look at Stolas. Stolas felt a painful pang of déjà vu as they watched the city coming alive together in silence through a haze of tobacco smoke. He reached through the stair treads to place Blitzø's coffee on the stair next to him, before leaning against the cold metal railing to sip his own.
"Don't just stand by yourself down there. You might as well sit down," Blitzø grumbled from above.
Stolas gave a sheepish half-smile. "Well, I rather feel I've earned this spot with how I've behaved. Don't you?"
Blitzø rolled his eyes. "Fuck, Stolas, it's fine. Just sit down already."
Stolas took a seat a few steps below Blitzø. The imp still did not look at him, though he stopped tapping his foot and scooted over to make room.
"Thank you, Blitz."
"Don't mention it."
"I meant for all of it… everything you've done for me. I really do appreciate it," Stolas sighed. "I truly do apologize for my abhorrent behaviour. You're a far kinder man than I deserve."
Blitzø let out a harsh bark of a laugh that made Stolas jump. "Ha. The fuck does that mean, deserve?"
"I mean that you've done so much for me, and I can't imagine that I've done enough in this life to earn that sort of thoughtfulness. From you, especially. I… well, I- I just don't know if I'm even worth… Well. I just think… there's just too much in my life that I need to make up for."
"Yeah, well, join the fucking club," A soft shwick of a lighter came from behind Stolas's head as Blitzø lit another cigarette. "Didn't expect you to come back into my life after all the shit I pulled, but you're here. For now, anyway."
Stolas's head whirled around so quickly that his body didn't have time to catch up. "What?"
Blitzø flinched. "Ugh, don't. Turn your neck back. I meant that we didn't exactly have a clean break."
"Well, yes, that's rather obvious, Blitz. I was clearly referring to the latter half of that statement. What do you mean, 'for now'?"
"I mean, you might not be a prince anymore, but I'm not exactly… in your league," Blitzø mumbled as he crossed his arms over his knees. "You'll go eventually. Find someone better."
Stolas furrowed his brow. "That's not true."
Blitzø rolled his eyes. "It is, though. No matter how much I do, no matter how hard I try to be better, eventually I'll fuck up again and remind you that I'm just a piece of shit. That's… that's just what happens."
"I… don't understand. What happens with what?"
"With - ugh. Never mind. Forget it." Blitzø rested his chin on his arms and returned his gaze to the skyline.
Stolas took another drag to pause and consider his words carefully. "I… I think it's very admirable that you do so much for your friends and family, Blitz. But I'm certain that even if you didn't, they would still like you just as you are. You needn't put so much pressure on yourself."
"I like to take care of the people I love. Always have. It's not a big deal."
Stolas's second coffee nearly met the same fate as his first as he startled. "Am- am I one of the people you love?"
Blitzø blushed and continued to stare straight ahead with his mouth firmly pressed shut. Stolas braced himself for another game of conversational chicken - the Buckzos were clearly a reticent breed when it came to vulnerability - but eventually decided that maybe, just once, nobody had to say anything at all. Blitzø's erratically swishing tail and inability to even make eye contact would have to suffice as an answer to his question, at least for the time being.
Art by Mystic
Stolas turned back around and watched as a small imp family crossed the street several stories below them. They sat together and watched the city awaken while they sipped their coffee.
"This is a nice spot."
"Yep. Didn't know where to go, figured this would do fine." Blitzø exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I like to sit here sometimes and think. It's quiet."
"How did you get up here? You left out the front door."
"I climbed up, idiot. It's not hard."
"I suppose you've got plenty of experience scaling buildings." Stolas chuckled.
Blitzø smiled slightly as he flicked his cigarette over the railing and propped up his chin with his hand. "Yeah, acrobat training's got nothing on your slippery-ass palace walls."
"I find myself thinking about those nights a lot these days," Stolas mused as he took a sip of coffee.
"Oh?" Blitzø arched an eyebrow.
"No, not that part." Stolas clicked his beak in playful reproach. "I just think about who we were back then, and I wish I could turn back time and go back to that. When we knew what to expect from each other. It wasn't perfect, surely, but at least it made sense to me. And you hadn't seen the real me. How miserable and fucked up I am." He leaned back and gently rested his head on Blitzø's knee. "Do you ever wish that? That we could go back to the people we were before?
"I don't."
"No?"
"I liked you fine before. But I like you now, too. This version of you. And I kind of like this version of… us, whatever we are now. Which… I guess means that I kind of like this version of me, too. Which is weird."
A small spark came alight as nimble fingers gently stroked through Stolas's headfeathers, and soon enough, the fire was burning deep inside his heart once again. But this time, it was slow, and warm, and comforting, like the rays of the sun.
"I like this version of you, too." Stolas looked up to find Blitzø gazing down at him with a soft smile, handsome face as radiant as the morning light. "I like every version of you."