Chapter Text
“So? Fucking cancel.”
“I’m not cancelling my arrangement with him just because you’ve now got tickets, Blitzø. When I inquired about your possible interest in it, you very clearly stated you had none. I appreciate that you changed your mind, but I now have a set arrangement.”
Agitation was never a good mix when it came to him and Stolas, Blitzø knew this.
He knew this extremely well, and yet he wasn’t doing anything to curb the frustration bubbling within his chest.
“Why would you say yes to him in the first place?”
“Because he’s my friend?”
“What the fuck am I, then?!”
Stolas, a Prince of the Ars Goetia, turned around, having been in the middle of emptying out an old greenhouse that Blitzø hadn’t even known was there due to the fact that it had been hidden by the vines and creepers that had grown over it.
The owl’s expression was flat, irked in a way that didn’t bode well. “My friend who said he had no interest in seeing yet another lame-arse musical and wasting away yet another evening,” he deadpanned, only to frown when Blitzø glared at him, tail lashing from side-to-side in irritation. “Do not growl at me like that, I wanted to go with you and you said no. Vassago invited me to see it, and I said yes. Next time, don’t play so hard to get.”
“Play- fuck you! I wasn’t fucking playing hard to get!” Blitzø near-yelled, temper flaring on the spot.
“Looks like it from where I’m standing,” Stolas replied airily, setting several broken plant pots on the rickety table that was already covered in random garden paraphernalia. “Why else would you change your mind so suddenly? You didn’t even tell me that you were going to look up tickets, you’re telling me now, days later! What if I’d decided to go on my own?”
“Then I would be able to go with you!”
“For goodness sake, Blitzø,” Stolas finally exclaimed haplessly, giving him a pleading look. “If that’s the issue then change your tickets to the night we’re going!”
“I don’t want to go with that fucker, I want to go with you!”
“I’m not having this argument with you, Blitzø. I asked you if you wanted to go, you said no, so I’m going with Vassago. Additionally, can you cease calling him names? He is my friend, I do not want to hear any more of your unfounded dislike of him.”
That wound him up even more, and Blitzø balled his fists, losing grip on the anger he knew he had problems with already. “What’s so great about him that you’re choosing him over me?!”
Stolas’ expression said it all. “You are being utterly ridiculous. I’m not choosing him over you, I am honouring the arrangement I made with my friend. You go out with your friends. Did you hear that? Friends? Multiple? Yes, I have more friends than just you.”
He knew that.
He had zero problem with that.
What he had a problem with was- “You’re dodging the fucking question! Why are you so fucking wrapped up in that asshole-”
“I am not wrapped up in anyone, and he is not an arsehole! The only one being an arsehole here, is you!” Stolas shot back, visibly slipping in his own demeanour as his feathers became ruffled. “I don’t encroach upon your friendships, don’t encroach upon mine - and certainly not out of jealousy.”
The inaudible bang of Blitzø’s temper hitting the proverbial roof of its cage was loud to no-one but the Imp himself, and he outright snarled, pupils narrowing into slits as he hiked his shoulders up.
“You know what? Fine! Keep being a wishy-washy piece of shit! You’re the one who said we should spend time together! I go out of my way to do shit for you and for what?! For you to choose some knock-off version of me- got another red and white asshole to fuck about with who you damn well know everyone will approve of! You’re so fucking shallow! If I knew it was gonna be like this I would have given you back the crystal and taken the fucking book, because at least you were that much of a whore that you wanted my dick, of which he doesn’t even fucking have!”
Stolas whirled around with a vermillion edge to his frame, a frail hanging basket in hand that he promptly lost grip of amidst the speed he moved. “How fucking dare you! That is not-!”
Blitzø didn’t hear the rest as the basket - innocuous as it was - hit him square in the face. It was made of coir, light as a feather, seriously, but the puff of dust that erupted upon impact had him recoiling with a stumble.
“Fuck-” he was cut off by an immediate sneeze, eyes stinging as he backed up in a bid to escape the particles that were swiftly dispersed by the breeze.
“Shit, Blitzø-”
He could hear the plea in Stolas’ voice, but Blitzø’s temper had been derailed. His walls had shot up faster than he could register, and he was already walking away. “Whatever. Enjoy sucking up to someone of your own fucking class.”
“Blitzø!”
He didn’t look back, and he didn’t consider doing so, not even with how upset the owl sounded. What had started out as a promising day had now grown to be a fucking shit one, because deep down Blitzø knew he was the one in the wrong.
Not because his knee-jerk reaction was to blame himself, but because he was fully aware that he was being a dick about this. A full-on dickhead, but he didn’t want to care.
He really didn’t want to fucking care.
He was angry, because Stolas was right. He was jealous, and that grated on Blitzø, because when he finally came to his senses on how he felt about the owl who he had been fucking consistently for far too long, he had listened to Millie and tried.
He’d tried again, for once, to make amends on his own terms.
He’d never gone out of his way to do that before, not twice. Like that stupid party wasn’t traumatic enough, because regret wasn’t something Blitzø usually fucked with up front.
He buried it, moved on, flung it aside and let it drag behind him. It had been hard coming back, trying to offer Stolas a proverbial sprig of apology all over again. He’d been a mess, stressed out of his fucking life, and yet Stolas, who had definitely been shocked to see him, had heard him out this time.
It wasn’t the great big hoo-ha that Blitzø had feared. Stolas was just quiet, calm, had told him he appreciated the apology and that he’d think about it.
That had stung, but Blitzø had graciously left with the full belief that it was the last he’d be seeing of the owl. He’d moped for the next three days, Millie had been supportive, Moxxie had been really forgiving of Blitzø’s slightly less-playful jabs, and Loona had been just a touch softer with him.
They’d looked after him, and he loved them for it.
At that point, it had already been four months since he’d came to terms with the fact that ‘the bird had got to him’ - so after such a stretch, it had been a shot in the dark for him to approach the topic at all, least of all actually step foot near the Prince whom Blitzø knew had taken his chance at freedom quite energetically.
He’d heard the tales of the Prince frequenting parties, hooking up, living his life for once. Blitzø had done the opposite, retreating into himself because he didn’t want to run into the owl in such a setting ever again. Anxiety drove him into paranoia, envisioning the Prince partaking in gossip and slander about him that was sadly just… the truth.
Once was enough, thanks.
So three days after he’d finally apologised properly, Blitzø resigned himself to have failed again. He took a deep breath, put on a brave face and continued with his usual routine for the next week and a half. He’d just about deluded himself into thinking he could handle it when he got an unexpected visitor whilst at work.
It was horrible, being ambushed by the Prince like that. Blitzø hadn’t been able to mask his anxiety for shit, and he’d nearly given way to word-vomit when Stolas tried to speak. It had been such a fucking embarrassment, but Blitzø had actually managed to curb his tongue for once.
He’d been more than a little upset at the notion that Stolas had ghosted him for a week and a half just to tell him to his face that the offer was not worth it after all, but he’d held it together, at first.
“I don’t know if it’s wise to try and continue associa…ting… Blitzø?”
That line had been like a punch to the heart, and Blitzø hadn’t realised that a tear had fallen until he felt the coolness of the room grace his cheeks. Under any normal circumstances, Blitzø would have barrelled over it, brushed it off, sent Stolas away dismissively because okay, fine, whatever.
He didn’t though. He just quietly said he understood, and that he was sorry he couldn’t have come to his senses sooner. Stolas had been so awkward, stood there, painfully struggling on what to do or say next.
There was no remedying the situation, however.
Blitzø had forced forward the reassurance, and Stolas had reluctantly left with many a look back, but Blitzø hadn’t been able to bear much more. Stolas walked out, and Millie had come charging in just as Blitzø dropped his head to his arms, the tears coming hard and fast.
“Blitzø- oh, Blitzø, it’s going to be alright.”
“It’s not. I don’t know how many times it’s gonna take for me to learn that this is why I never know what I’ve got, until it’s gone. I wanted to show him I really could change, Mills. That he was worth changing for. He’ll never know because I fucked up that badly that he can’t even stand me. I’m such a screw up. I couldn’t even get my apology right.”
“Blitzø… honey…”
He hadn’t known that Stolas was still in earshot of that. He hadn’t known anything but the sharp pain of grief and regret in his chest.
He still fought through the rest of the day, though. He made it home, made dinner for Loona who stayed outside her room more than usual. Then he got a text from the owl asking if they could meet.
Blitzø had initially said it was probably best that they didn’t, because he wasn’t well, but that prompted Stolas to call instead.
It was hard, hearing Stolas apologise emotionally, plead with him to please just grant him one coffee meet-up. Blitzø was a sucker for pain so agreed and…
The rest was history, he supposed.
They’d met, Stolas had apologised all over again, taking back his rejection of the offered friendship and saying he had convinced himself that he would just get hurt all over again. He hadn’t considered that he had hurt Blitzø in turn, and it was with tentative smiles that they agreed to try again, on equal standing, this time.
It had been going great, until Blitzø found out that he wasn’t the only one vying for Stolas’ time.
Vassago, was too.
Blitzø hadn’t really had a lot to do with him, which was a two-way street to no-where but one-sided hostility. Blitzø didn’t really know what the deal was, but he felt…
He felt threatened.
Vassago was suave, calm, well-spoken and confident. He was gracious when Blitzø had been around him, and just… he was perfect.
He seemed so fucking perfect.
Insecurities started without real cause, because Blitzø couldn’t help but notice that Vassago was red, ivory faced, aureate-eyed and even sported two banded quills. There was no fucking way that Stolas wasn’t aware of the physical similarities between Blitzø, and the damn parrot.
Colour-wise, of course, because nothing else matched. Vassago was tall, handsome, refined, and was part of Stolas’ regal circle.
Blitzø… was still a dirt-poor Imp.
Vassago had the means and money to take Stolas anywhere, everywhere, and Blitzø did not. Even Octavia seemed fond of him, whilst snubbing Blitzø completely which didn’t feel great at all either.
The contention may have been perceived by none other than Blitzø, but he also didn’t know how to exactly cope with his feelings. Stolas was loud and proud of his friendship, nurtured it a great deal and as the two grew closer, Blitzø feared he was seeing the writing on the wall.
Blitzø wasn’t looking for a friendship. He was looking to court the damn owl and all the whilst Vassago took up so much of Stolas’ time - which wasn’t even unwanted, seeing as Stolas made just as many arrangements with him - Blitzø felt his chances slipping away.
The bigger problem was that Blitzø was well-aware that behaving as he did would not earn him any of the Prince’s favours.
He’d worked so fucking hard on himself, he had. He had a lot more to work on as a whole, but he wanted… he wanted to try just one last time, with someone he loved.
With someone who had somehow felt… deeply, for him.
Maybe that wasn’t love on Stolas’ part, but if Blitzø wanted to find that out, then he was going to have to figure this out, because he either stepped up his game, or stepped aside.
As time dragged on, Blitzø feared that the door to the latter, was starting to open wider every day.