Work Text:
Blitz was — and always would be — a fucking clown. Not only had he perfected the art of screwing people over and driving them away, he also found a way to take it personally each and every time the people around him decided that they were sick and tired of his shit.
It hurt to bring his phone out again, but Blitz was nothing if not a glutton for pain. He flicked through the photos in reverse, like a slideshow of his life slowly but surely falling apart. Like a timeline of every little fuck-up that had contributed to Blitz crying alone on his couch like a little bitch.
Barbie and Tilla had enough of his shit.
He flipped to the next photo, and the next. Yep, he fucked over Fizzarolli.
And he fucked over Verosika again and again because he couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving him first.
Loona... Who was he kidding? Look at that scowl. She tolerated Blitz at best and was probably biding her time until she had enough money to move out.
There was only so much fuckery Moxxie was willing to put up with and he was probably nearing his limit.
Millie, unflappable as she was, would likely be right behind him.
Stolas...
He hid his phone again and burrowed his face deeper into the couch pillow. Yeah, Blitz might not be a circus clown anymore, but he was still a fucking clown. He could cling to Loona all he wanted, watch and tag along with Moxxie and Millie all he wanted, pretend Stolas cared all he wanted...
... but was he pretending? Entertaining hope was asking for trouble but Blitz hadn’t imagined that Stolas came to their rescue. Would he have done that if he didn’t care? Would he have asked Blitz if he was alright if he didn’t care? Would he have leaned down to Blitz’s level, cradled his face, run a warm, soft palm over the mark on his forehead, looked at him like that if he didn’t care?
“Am I going to get any thank you for the rescue, Blitzy?”
“Fucking idiot,” Blitz muttered brokenly into the pillow. Of course Stolas didn’t care. He was protecting the book. He was making sure he didn’t get caught or get in trouble for loaning such a powerful artifact out to imps. He was straightening out Blitz’s fuck-up.
He hadn’t made that eldritch, nightmare-fuel scene in front of those agents because he cared — he was just bored. It was an excuse to show off in hopes of getting Blitz into bed before the next full moon. And Blitz had been so high on the adrenaline of nearly dying, so overwhelmed from seeing Stolas summon himself with the blood of possessed human corpses, so emotionally fucked after that bad trip that he’d cheerfully jumped right in.
The truth was that Blitz was never going to have anything that resembled real love. He would never be able to recapture the kind of love and friendship he had with Tilla, Barbie, or Fizzarolli. He’d never have half of what Millie and Moxxie had and, if he ever managed to gain it, he would find a way to fuck himself over. He was alone and he had only himself to blame.
“Despite everything that’s happened, I enjoyed spending time with you.”
Oh really? Was that why he’d hidden his face when he was ridiculed for “selling his life for a thrust” with a lowly imp?
And then he’d had the nerve to try to hold Blitz’s hand? Invite him inside the palace? To talk and watch a movie and fucking cuddle?!
Why the fuck was the pillow so goddamn hot? Blitz flipped it over and only when his face touched the cool fabric did he realize how much his tears had soaked the other side of it.
What was he even crying for? Being used was all he was good for. It was only fair; karma and all that shit. It was nothing he wasn’t used to and — especially when it came to Stolas — it was entirely expected. “Favors for favors” was all they would ever be. Stolas’ interest in him was limited to Blitz being a good lay. What kind of idiot caught feelings for his fuck buddy despite knowing that their time together would end the moment he was no longer entertaining?
A fucking clown, that’s who. And only a clown and a loser would go home and lay on his couch to cry about it.
He needed to get his shit together before Loona got home. Before she had to fake concern for him or pretend she didn’t see him breaking down as she crept into her room. Or, better yet, he needed to be an adult and go cry alone in his room under the covers with his door closed so no one had to see or hear him.
His phone buzzed from under the pillow and he waffled between the urge to see what it was or leave it so he could finish crying. It buzzed again ten seconds later and the need to focus on something, anything else won as he pulled his phone out.
Stolas
2 unread messages
That pitiful, heartbroken look on his face as he’d stepped back from the van to let Blitz leave flashed in his mind. Something told him that he wasn’t going to like whatever Stolas sent him but he was already in a shitty mood so what did it matter?
You are no longer obligated to exchange anything for the use of the Grimoire, though I will still need it on the full moon. 1:36AM
You need not come to the palace; I will send someone to collect it from you and return it afterwards. 1:36AM
. . .
What?
His phone vibrated again and another text appeared.
I apologize for not listening to you. 1:37AM
That made him feel...
He read it again.
... made him feel...
He read it again. He stared at the screen but no more texts came through.
That... That was it? “What the fuck is this?” He felt hollowed out. Like something inside him just winked out of existence and the only proof that anything had been there to begin with was the void left in its wake. And despite feeling (for all intents and purposes) nothing, the tears in his eyes were heavier and spilling faster. “What the fuck is this?”
The end.
That’s what it was. Just another in a long line. Far from the first, likely not the last.
The same with Verosika. The same with Fizzarolli. The same with Loona and Moxxie and Millie and Barbie and Tilla...
Except it wasn’t the same, not this time. Blitz hadn’t stabbed Stolas in the back. He hadn’t fucked him over or gone out of his way to hurt him. Blitz had done exactly what was agreed upon, often more. But because Blitz didn’t feel like fucking him now that his embarrassment from being exposed for sleeping with an imp had worn off, now he’d had enough?
Oh, but out of the kindness of his heart, Blitz could still use the book.
Free of charge.
I apologize for not listening to you.
What the fuck did that even mean? Was Blitz supposed to feel sorry for him? No! Fuck him! Fuck him for calling it quits just because Blitz said no, fuck him for acting like he was so excited to go on a date and then hiding his face from everyone in shame, fuck him for making Blitz fall—
He saw red as he threw his phone at the wall with a shout. In a blind rage, he didn’t realize what he was doing until the engine of the van roared to life and the too-loud music on the stereo startled the hell out of him.
He flicked it off and drove in silence to the palace, seething all the way.
Fuck him!
Fuck him!
There was no shortage of reasons for people to cast Blitz aside, he knew that. If he didn’t actively push people away, he only needed to be himself and they’d all leave eventually. It was only a matter of time until he pushed the wrong button or went a step too far. He’d always been more work than he was worth.
He’d known what their arrangement was from the beginning and Stolas certainly hadn’t let him forget it. Blitz was supposed to return the book to him once a month, and he did. Blitz was supposed to thoroughly fuck him once a month, and he did. That was it.
Stolas was the one who’d decided that Blitz had outgrown his use, all because Blitz wasn’t in the mood to rail him after that clusterfuck at the club. This was not Blitz’s fault and he was going to make sure that pompous asshole knew it even if it cost Blitz his access to the book.
He parked the van on the street, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to rattle the vehicle and all the trash inside it. Without Stolas to magically open the gate, Blitz would have to scale the wall, but he’d done that plenty of—
Nope.
This wasn’t the same as sneaking in on the full moon, not by a longshot. He wasn’t going to slink through the shadows in the yard to avoid being seen by Stella or any of her nosey, snitch servants before climbing up to the balcony of Stolas’ room. He was going to climb the wall, make all the fucking noise he wanted, maybe knock over some potted plants or shit in the water fountain, barge through the front doors, steal that fancy-ass door knocker that was made of solid gold and sell it to buy the 3D horse nightlight he’d seen at the pawn shop—
Or that was the plan until Blitz touched down on the other side of the wall and saw Stolas sitting on the front steps, shoulders slumped and eyes distant and sad. As if Blitz ruined his night. As though it was with a heavy heart that he’d decided using Blitz as his personal fucktoy was no longer a game worth playing.
“Fuck you, Stolas!”
His volume made Stolas jump nearly a foot in the air and he frowned as he watched Blitz stomp towards him. “Blitz?”
“Oh, now it’s just Blitz?” he sneered. That had no business hurting as much as it did — that stupid fucking nickname made him want to grind his teeth and this was the second time tonight Stolas had decided not to use it. “Fuck you and fuck that text! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now that we’re done?”
Stolas had the gall to look hurt — rejected, even. That was fucking rich. “My apology wasn’t an attempt to garner sympathy...”
“This is not my fault! I did everything I was supposed to do!”
“I never said—”
“So you can take your ‘sorry for not listening’ and your fucking charity with the book and shove it right up your ass because this one isn’t on me! This is over because you got tired of me!”
There was finally a spark of anger in Stolas’ eyes as they narrowed at Blitz. “This is over because I kept pushing instead of listening when our arrangement was clearly something you’ve despised from the beginning.” Tears fell from all four of his eyes and Blitz wasn’t sure if he wanted to wipe those tears away or spit in his face. “You’ve made it abundantly clear how much you hate this. You’ve reiterated how much of a chore it is to be around me, I simply refused to listen! I know that the only reason you put up with me is that you need my book to run your business. I just thought...” He took a quick breath like he was trying not to sob and looked away from Blitz. All the energy seemed to drain out of him at once. “I thought perhaps that I was doing this wrong so I kept trying. And I kept trying. And every time I tried to get closer, you pushed me away. I didn’t listen when you kept trying to tell me that this... is never going to happen.”
Stolas unclipped his cape and shrugged it off of his shoulders. The silky fabric spilled across the steps around him and for a moment it looked like Stolas was floating above a portal into open space. The cloth twinkled and shined the same vibrant maroons and reds of the Horsehead Nebula that Stolas had once shown him and he fucking hated the thought that Stolas might have chosen the cape with that memory in mind.
Despite his tears, Stolas glared at Blitz and he had to fight not to flinch back from it. “You needn’t rub this in. I’m well aware that I’m to blame and I’m not asking for sympathy. I never meant... I didn’t want you to feel...” He let out a frustrated huff, hanging his head and rubbing his top set of eyes with his palms. “What more do you want? You’re free of this... transaction now.”
So why didn’t it feel like freedom? Why did it feel like being kicked down a marble staircase into the mud? Why did it feel like nothing — not even the purest golden feathers — could ever clean it away?
Maybe the mud was where Blitz really belonged.
“Oh, free, huh? Is that what this is? You’re doing me a favor?” Blitz was so violently angry he couldn’t think straight and he was digging for any excuse to stay keep fighting. “You’re so full of shit! You’re not doing this for me, you’re cutting ties because you’re ashamed that now people know you’re sleeping with an imp!”
“I’m not—”
“And not just any imp, but the one and only Blitzo the clown! A total disgrace! Selfish in the sheets and just as bad in the streets!” Shut up shut the fuck up!! He needed to leave but his feet only brought him closer to Stolas. He wasn’t even making sense anymore, was he? He didn’t care. “No wonder you hid your face when they threw the spotlight on you!”
“I hid my face because I was ashamed of myself. I’m...” Stolas shook his head, digging his fingers into the immaculately preened feathers on his head. “I was selfish. I only cared about how I felt, how exciting it all was. I didn’t spare a thought for how any of this made Octavia feel or what my actions might do to her reputation.”
“. . .”
Okay.
Okay, yeah, that was fair.
“Is this not what you wanted?” Stolas snapped. “You have the book and you needn’t use your body as collateral for it anymore.”
Leave, Blitz. Fucking leave! “What I wanted?! I never wanted any of this!”
“I didn’t say you did! It was my idea! You needed the book and I took advantage of that because I didn’t know how else I could spend time with you!”
They were only getting louder and more hysterical and Blitz didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop shouting, couldn’t stop moving closer, couldn’t stop hurting. Maybe Stolas didn’t understand, but at least he didn’t blame Blitz for this thing between them falling apart.
So why couldn’t Blitz let it go? “Spend time with me? Is that what all of this was?! The deal for the book? Hiring me as your bodyguard? The harvest festival?”
Somehow Stolas managed to look both enraged and desperate as he hollered, “I don’t know what I’m doing! I’ve never been in love before!”
Blitz didn’t notice the slip until Stolas’ white pupils betrayed his shock. His eyes darted around and the talons on his feet flexed nervously like he was gearing up to run but after a few long beats of silence, his eyes settled on the water fountain below.
No way.
No fucking way.
There was no fucking way that everything Blitz had endured for the past year was Stolas’ shitty attempt at dating him. There was no fucking way Stolas had fallen in love with Blitz when he’d been at his most rude, most inconsiderate, and most difficult from the moment they’d met.
“You... love me?” Stolas’ shoulders were tense as he kept his eyes ahead with far too much intensity, refusing to answer. Blitz’s tail was lashing in his agitation, so much that he could hear it cutting through the silence between them. “You love me?”
Stolas shook his head slowly, defeated. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he repeated quietly. “This has all been a terrible mistake and I apologize for making you feel so uncomfortable and angry. That was never my intention.”
“You—” Blitz stopped himself before he started sounding like a broken record. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Stolas loved him? How? Fucking how?!
Blitz could understand how he’d fallen in love with Stolas; despite the bad flirting and worse dirty talk and botched, often tactless attempts at intimacy, Stolas was also affectionate and kind. He had a soft voice and his eyes glowed brighter when he talked about the stars and he listened and smiled when Blitz wouldn’t shut up about horses.
The reverse was... not true. “How the fuck could you fall in love with me? I can’t... I’m a complete shitshow.”
Stolas finally glanced at Blitz and his mouth twitched in a sad attempt at a smile. “Maybe you are,” he said, his voice somehow soft and clear despite the fat tears still flooding his eyes, “but you made me happy, however briefly. That was enough.”
Blitz shook his head slowly. He’d been an asshole. On purpose. Blitz could try his hardest but he was always going to be too much of what people hated and never enough of what they wanted. How could he have made Stolas happy? It didn’t make any sense.
Stolas saw Blitz shaking his head and shrugged, chuckling bitterly. “Well, that’s how I saw it, anyway. Or perhaps I saw a kindred spirit; as you can see, I too am a ‘complete shitshow’.”
Well that checked out. Who the hell thought an arrangement like theirs was a reasonable way to initiate a relationship? Who thought hiring their fuck buddy as a bodyguard on a trip to an amusement park with their daughter was a good way to spend time together? Who thought dragging their fuck buddy to a tiny-ass town in the middle of nowhere just to thirst over them in front of an audience was romantic?
A clown, that’s who. A fucking clown.
“Aren’t we a pair,” Blitz muttered under his breath. If he hadn’t felt like he’d been through the emotional ass-beating of the century, he might have laughed because how in all hell had Blitz managed to find someone worse at dating and feelings than him?
This was such a bad fucking idea.
“So,” Blitz tried, wincing when his voice came out sounding too thick with emotion. He cleared his throat. “Just so we’re on the same page... The deal is off and I’m free to go.”
Stolas looked anguished, then confused when Blitz hesitantly took a step towards him. “Correct,” he said slowly, noticeably wary of where Blitz was going with this.
Part of Blitz was terrified to reach out and be rejected but he moved closer anyway. With Stolas sitting on the steps, he and Blitz were nearly the same height when Blitz was standing in front of him. “I think I’m gonna stay.”
Relief washed over Stolas’ face but he seemed to catch himself before he leaned in too close, his gaze disbelieving and achingly hopeful. “Why? I mean... After everything I’ve...”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Why take the risk when the chances of it getting messier and more painful were astronomical? Despite the odds of failure, it felt like trying could be worth it this time. “Because you said you love me.” And because the alternative was to go home alone and cry himself to sleep and Blitz was so goddamn tired of doing that. Maybe he would find new ways to disappoint Stolas, but he’d already seen the worst of Blitz and somehow loved him anyway. That had to count for something. Blitz was — and always would be — a fucking clown, but now he knew that Stolas was too. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing either,” he said, putting both hands on Stolas’ face just to feel the way his soft feathers slipped through his fingers.
“If you’re not opposed,” Stolas said gently, leaning into Blitz’s touch like he was starving for it, “I’d like to keep trying. You make me happy and I’m sick to death of being lonely.”
Blitz pulled Stolas in for a kiss before he could overthink it. His heart was hammering loud enough for the entire Pride Ring to hear and the longer Stolas sat perfectly still against him, the more every muscle in Blitz’s body screamed that this was a mistake, he needed to leave, he needed to find a liquor store and drink until his liver failed and forget about this entire fucking day.
But then he felt Stolas press into him a little and a hand hesitantly rested on Blitz’s back. He took another step closer until they were flush together and he felt another hand rest on his neck, a thumb barely caressing his jaw. Blitz curled his tail around Stolas’ wrist to keep his hand there when they parted.
The look in Stolas’ eyes made Blitz nauseous and hopeful and tied his stomach in knots and this was too many fucking emotions for one night. “You, uh... said we could watch a movie? And maybe...” He really, really didn’t want to say cuddle, but he would if he had to because he still felt like an exposed nerve and the soft warmth of Stolas’ feathers against his back sounded divine.
Stolas blinked, looking a little lost. “Oh! Yes! I...” He hesitated and Blitz saw his gaze wander to Blitz’s tail, still wrapped around his wrist. Blitz squeezed his wrist gently and Stolas stroked Blitz’s jaw with a nervous smile. “I know how much you love horses and perhaps it was silly of me but I found a popular movie from earth called ‘Hidalgo’ and thought—”
Blitz leaned in and kissed him again before he could lose his shit over a stupid fucking movie.
A stupid fucking movie that Stolas got for him because he knew how much Blitz loved horses. As disastrous as Stolas’ attempts at dating had been, occasionally he got it overwhelmingly right.
When he pulled away, Stolas was smiling at him like he’d hung the moon and the stars. “Let’s go inside, Blitz.”
As Stolas stood to his full, impressive height, Blitz reluctantly let his wrist go so he could gather his cape. Blitz turned away and went in ahead of him, his face burning so ridiculously hot that the white patch on his face was probably glowing pink because he knew Stolas heard him when he mumbled, “Blitzy is fine.”