Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vassago stood in the grandiose palace of the prominent Duke Malphas for the raven's wedding reception. The duke and his new bride, a lovely young bluebird, were still receiving well wishes from other members of the Goetia. The prince's eyes briefly skimmed over the joyous couple before searching around the room for nothing in particular, catching on the glittering lights of the hanging chandeliers. 

Somehow it was all dreadfully boring to him; he could not see the stunning beauty within the opulence on display. He debated leaving the party of lords and ladies he found himself among to partake in some of the delicious desserts laid out for guests that were being ignored for idle gossip and hollow small talk. No one here had an interest in discussing fencing maneuvers or a riveting game of chess, which were some of Vassago's recent interests that held his thoughts in a vice-like grip. 

He looked to his compatriots once again, his excuse to step away at the tip of his tongue when he noted Prince Stolas was within their gathering. He was also staring off into the middle distance, not engaging in conversation much like Vassago. Although he seemed to be keeping a steady flow of alcohol raised to his beak, it was not an uncommon sight for the owl.

Perhaps he would strike up a conversation with the fellow prince about plants. He knew Stolas had quite the renowned garden among the royals, and even more impressive, he was directly involved in the cultivation of his plants. Vassago slipped around a few people to get closer before speaking out, “ Hola Prince Stolas, how is your collection of spatium praereptor?”

Stolas did not react to his question, still staring off. Vassago glanced the way Stolas was looking. There was a rather large window in his line of sight, the starry night sky visible from it. Stolas was particularly entangled with astronomy; he knew the prince could also divine prophecies from the stars, although Vassago’s abilities extended to past and present events with no reliance on the skies. His interest in the stars was perhaps not as deep anymore, having moved on to another curiosity when one sparked his attention.

Vassago cleared his throat. “Stolas?” 

Slowly, Stolas blinked and brought his attention towards Vassago. Now he noticed the tiredness surrounding his eyes and the lack of sheen in his grey feathers. “Oh my apologies, Prince Vassago. I was… distracted for a moment. How are you?”

“I am quite well. I was curious if you have added any-” His question was cut off by a shriek within the crowded room. 

“Oh fuck you! Not like you’ve never seen an imp before bitch.” A voice rang out, and at the sound, Stolas groaned.

Vassago looked towards the source, watching as Goetia practically threw themselves out of the way of an imp who was racing past them. He smirked at the women who had screamed, offering up two middle fingers, and Vassago was instantly struck by this man.

His smile was stunning, brimming with ease and confidence as he quickly strode through the crowd of demons who towered over him, not only in height but power and station. His skin was deep red, his face nearly split in half from a white marking and a splash of yellow with his eyes; it was so very much like his own colour patterns. 

His horns were large and curved enticingly, as if begging to have a hand run across them. Surely this demon must be incredibly strong to carry these all day and maintain such grace while moving. 

He was stalking forward right for Vassago, his gaze intense on his goal. Vassago felt so entranced by this demon, his heart was racing wildly. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to touch and make sure this person was real, ask for his name, his whole life story.

art by: Doria

The imp was nearly upon him, his pace quickening before he fell face first on the ground, seemingly tripping on nothing, yet Vassago felt a tingle of magic in the air. “Go away,” Stolas snapped, looking down at the man.

“Stolas!” He scrambled to get up. Vassago looked between the imp and Prince Stolas, who was turning away slightly, arms crossed tight around himself. The demon pulled a paper out of his jacket pocket “Will you wait just a second? All I wanted is– was a second alone with you so I could…” his eyes squinted at the words before he continued, “explain things!”

Vassago tilted his head, even more intrigued at what was happening here. This imp was trying to profess something to a demon prince… who seemed to know him and be entirely uninterested. In fact, as the imp was speaking Stolas had subtly waved over security.

Two hellhounds approached from behind the imp and attempted to scoop him up. He dropped the sheet of paper to grab for a flintlock pistol within a shoulder holster and snapped, “Why the fuck do they even need you guys? These fucks are stronger then us combined!” 

Before he had the gun fully out where it could be visible by too many, it was awash in a cyan and violet magic forcing it back into place. He was unable to remove it and glared at Stolas, knowing the owl had done this. Vassago found it very curious. Stolas must care somewhat about this person to help him this way; if that gun had been pulled out, another Goetia might have popped his handsome face for the slight. 

“You can’t just avoid me forever, Stolas!” he yelled as the security guards dragged him off, kicking and shouting profanity the whole way. Stolas turned and stormed off deeper into the palace as members of the Goetia started to titter and whisper about the interruption. 

Vassago leaned down to pick up the dropped paper. The writing was messy, becoming less legible as it went on, suggesting the writer was a bit impatient. The speech looked oddly familiar to him, perhaps he had heard it in a film once. Vassago followed after them, leaving the wedding reception behind. 

He stepped outside in time to see the hellhounds tossing the imp unceremoniously down the steps. Before returning inside they gave a slight bow to Vassago, who breezed past them. The imp was on his hands and knees scooping up dozens of papers scattered to the ground, softly muttering to himself. Vassago knelt down to help him gather the pages.

He noticed that some of these were covered in that chaotic writing while others had drawings. One, in particular, depicted the imp carrying Prince Stolas bridal style down an aisle as he flipped off another man standing at the altar, whose face was scribbled out and P.O.S. written on his shirt.

“What! Are you here to make fun of me!” The man was looking at Vassago now, his voice startling him back to attention. He nearly lost his breath when those eyes bored into his own, so sharp and focused. 

“No, I was just trying to help.” He held out the papers he had gathered.

The imp chewed on his lower lip, eyes glancing down while his tail slowly swished behind him. He finally took the papers, adding them to his pile “Thanks.” Vassago stood up, offered a hand to help him stand as well but was ignored.

“May I ask what you were hoping to accomplish in there?” He stepped after the imp when he turned to leave. It would be a shame if he did not at least gain this man's name before he disappeared. 

He hesitated a moment, looking Vassago up and down a few times, his eyes clouded with skepticism. Vassago found himself tugging at his collar while being scrutinized and thoroughly judged by this stranger. “He likes rom-coms.” The imps' voice was low. “It’s stupid and real life isn’t like that… but he likes them, so I’m trying.” He paused for a moment, Vassago thought that might be all he would receive as an answer but he continued, “They always have those big romantic speeches, y’know? Like an ‘I object’ speech at a wedding. I thought it might work.” He shrugged, “Guess I’ll try the next thing.”

So the imp was trying to win Stolas’ affections, and not very successfully, it appeared. “Don’t those things happen at the romantic interest’s wedding? This was another Goeita’s wedding reception.”

“Yeah, well he is already married so it’s a little late for that.” The imp started walking towards the gate but looked back at Vassago, who took this as an invitation to follow and continue talking, which thrilled him to no end. 

“ Vaya, I heard they were separating.” He watched as the imp perked up at that news, his eyes widened and his tail whipped around excitedly for a brief second.

“Oh shit, I don’t want him to get remarried though. Do you think one of those stuffy fucking lords is going to ask him? He’ll probably have a bunch of those assholes trying to get with him too, he’s so fucking pretty.” He turned back to the palace entrance, glaring daggers, then he flinched, realizing what he said and looking up at Vassago hesitantly. “Uh no offense to you… um…” 

art by: minkas

He felt the feathers in his crest lifting with his excitement. “Vassago.”

“Aren’t you a fancy lord or duke or something?”

“Just Vassago is fine.” He felt as if this man would value someone uninterested in their title and the weight it carried.

He scrutinized him briefly again then held out a hand. “Blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” Vassago eagerly gave him his hand, nearly missing the name as he focused on the heat of his large palm engulfing his gloved hand. He wished he did not have those gloves on. He wanted to feel his skin against his talons, the tickle of his claws against his wrist; he had never reacted this way to a simple handshake before.

“I’m sorry, what ‘o’?” he asked, frowning when the imp retracted his hand.

“The one in my name.” He looked at Vassago as if he was an idiot for even asking, then broke into a small smile, like he was enjoying his inside joke, before reaching into a pocket and producing a small card. “Here, this is my business card.”

It was a clever logo design with the letters I.M.P with the M fashioned like a pair of imp horns. Under was the business title ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’. When Vassago turned it over, he saw Blitzø’s full name featuring a hand-crossed out ‘o’, company phone number, and personal cell phone.

“If you need someone dead on Earth, give me a call. I’ll give you a good rate.” Blitzø flashed a toothy grin at Vassago and he felt his feathers raise once more as heat spread across his cheeks. “See you around, Vassago.”

They were standing on the street now. After saying his goodbye the imp pulled out a set of keys and approached a banged-up van, Blitzø gave Vassago a final wave after climbing in. He watched the vehicle drive off into the night, clutching the card to his chest.

When Vassago had woken up this morning no part of him expected that by the night's end, he would know the experience of love at first sight.

Vassago had finally returned home. He had spent the rest of the reception passing through the groupings of nobles hoping to glean some interesting gossip about Blitzø. Naturally, everyone was more interested in speaking of Stolas, no one seemed to know who the imp had been, so Vassago excused himself early.

He was lying on his bed holding the business card in one hand, the other grazing over the embossed lettering of ‘Blitzø Buckzo.’ Involuntarily, he felt his magic swirling to life around him, the siren call to gaze into future events. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths until it dissipated. He did not like gazing into his own future, had stopped many years ago when he’d seen himself tangled in the sheets with someone he could not stand. 

Vassago shook his head, trying to physically force the memory away before it took hold of his thoughts again. He pulled out his cell phone instead, looking up Blitzø’s business; it had been open for a few years now and it boasted speedy assassinations of humans on Earth. He found it to be quite the clever idea, capitalizing on vengeful sinners, especially since it was nearly impossible for an imp to start their own business.

He scrolled through photos posted on the website dating back to their very first human kill. Someone else must have taken over this portion of the site as the pictures went from selfies of Blitzø in front of rather grotesque murder scenes to clients smiling while shaking hands with one of the staff, sometimes holding a bloody weapon, presumably used to kill the target. Or candid shots around the office. Vassago thought he might have spied Stolas’ feathered tail in the background of one.

Vassago ended up saving a photo of Blitzø taken in front of a dry-erase board. He had a manic smile on his face as he proudly showed off a ‘flawless murder plan’, as it was titled. It took a bit of work for Vassago to read the writing, but it was just another thing he found so charming about Blitzø. 

art by: minkas

When he’d run out of content, he set about simply searching Blitzø on Vooxle. Not much came up, there was a poster for a one-night circus act he found odd, not expecting Blitzø to have a background in clowning. 

He wanted to see the imps' past, how he went from clown to assassin, how he had crossed paths with Stolas, and the nature of their relationship. When the magic once again stirred around him to entice him to peek, Vassago got up from his bed and went to his study. 

Trying to refuse the urge, he instead started up a solo game of chess. He had been practicing a more aggressive response to the Sicilian Defense opening; surely this would keep his mind occupied enough that he would not give in to temptation. Still, the magic curled around his body, begging him to look even momentarily. Vassago gave up on the chess game after staring at the pieces for ten minutes, opting to pace through the stacks of books.

“¡Basta! ” he shouted to no one but himself when he finally gave in and let his magic do as it beckoned. Gazing into the past, his sight was overcome with a memory. Two young boys were running around a palace, clearly one was Prince Stolas and the other had to be Blitzø, although the imp's face was unbroken by the white mark. They were shoving all manner of jewels into a large sack. The memory abruptly changed on its own, green flames swirling around, practically making Vassago choke on the smoke in its suddenness. He forced it to shift once more, and now Blitzø was being dragged by Hellhound security guards. It was not from tonight's event however, it was at Stolas’ palace. And instead of sending him away, the prince led him to his bedroom.

art by: minkas

Vassago shut down the vision. It was clear where things were headed, and he was not interested in seeing any bedroom sport the two may have engaged in. His magic seemed content with this though, his own mind clearer after its use. There was some guilt settling in his gut; he really tried not to spy on others. He was often required to use his magic in court trials, as it made judgment much easier when Vassago simply showed the crime being committed.

He slumped into a nearby armchair, feeling worn down from his brief use of magic, which was not uncommon when viewing past events that held deep significance to someone. Once again, Vassago took out the business card, this time adding Blitzø to his phone contacts. He wanted to meet him again and find some reason to reach out. He debated hiring I.M.P. but that would not accomplish what he wanted. Perhaps he would invite him out for coffee and hope for the best.

It was a few days before Vassago gathered the courage to call Blitzø. He had tried the morning after they met, calling the business line, but a woman answered the phone and he promptly hung up. So now he was trying the imp’s personal cell phone, he listened as it rang over and over, debating just ending the call when it finally clicked on.

“What?” Came Blitzø’s impatient voice.

Vassago cleared his throat, “Hola Blitzø, it is Vassago, we met the other night-”

“Yeah, I remember, what's up? You have somebody you need dead?” Vassago could hear a door closing in the background.

“Actually, I was hoping we could meet for coffee.” His heart was practically leaping out of his chest.

“Hm, if it's about a target I don't usually do out-of-office meetings.” 

“Well, it's not quite work related… I was thinking we could go to this cafe, Espresso Emporium.” He listened for Blitzø to respond. The imp was making a noncommittal sound. Vassago decided desperate times called for desperate measures. “Actually I was hoping to help you with your rom-com endeavor. Stolas frequents that cafe. Perhaps the two of you would run into each other.”

“Like a meet-cute!” Blitzø practically shouted. Suddenly Vassago could hear papers being shuffled around. “Does he really go there a lot? Do you know when he might go next?”

“Um, I’m unsure of his personal schedule, but perhaps he will visit for a drink today.” To be fair, he did not know if Stolas had ever actually gone to this cafe. He’d seen him at Richest Cup a handful of times, but with the business slogan ‘ Where the poor pour for you ’ , Vassago thought it would be best to avoid inviting Blitzø out there.

“I could be there in a few minutes, let me just tell everyone to go for a long lunch. Oh, I guess I should ask if you have portal magic too?”

“Sí, I can be there at a moment's notice as well.” He was so excited that Blitzø agreed to meet with him, he would find a way to keep these meetings recurring.

“Okay, I could’ve gotten you if not, I’ll just meet you there.” 

Vassago cursed himself out, he should have lied. “See you pronto.” Blitzø gave a goodbye and they both hung up. Vassago leapt up and checked his feathers in the mirror, tamping down the ones at his crest that had lifted in his excitement. 

He opened a portal to the cafe and decided to grab a seat for them by the window. It was an especially cozy establishment; large plush chairs at two-person tables, a shelf of books at one end of the cafe and hanging plants created a soft and intimate atmosphere. 

Vassago gazed out the window, watching for Blitzø to arrive. After a few minutes, a crystalline portal opened and out stepped the imp. He must have worked under Asmodeus' jurisdiction, which Vassago found very intriguing; he would have to ask how that came about.

When Blitzø walked in, he looked around quickly and Vassago waved him over, relieved when Blitzø smiled and returned the gesture. He climbed onto the chair as Vassago asked, “How are you? How has work been?”

“Uh, work is good, taking on a lot more contracts.” Blitzø rubbed the back of his head. A waiter came over before they could continue. Blitzø ordered an iced coffee with extra sugar and Vassago chose a vanilla almond latte. “Are you friends with Stolas?”

“Not really. More like acquaintances,” Vassago answered truthfully.

Blitzø frowned. “I think he has a lot of those.”

“It’s more common than you might think. Nobles can be quite capricious.” He did not count many to be true friends, most were quick to turn their backs in light of gossip or far too ready with a cloaked barb. “Tan volubles.”

“Yeah, so why do you want to help me out then?” Blitzø had a skeptical look in his eyes. Vassago once again felt as if his very soul was being laid bare in this gaze, as if Blitzø would be able to discern his inner thoughts and desires.

“Curiosity. You have piqued my interest.” It was the truth, at least a partial one. He did not actually wish to help Blitzø gain Stolas' attention, but his own.

“Okay.” Blitzø pulled out some folded paper from his jacket, the same ones from the other night. “So I’ve been trying to win Stolas back using those cheesy rom-com tropes he likes so much. I have a list, I've tried a few but it hasn’t worked yet. Might help if I have someone to… get him places where I can try some other ones.”

Their drinks arrived and Blitzø immediately sucked back his, letting out a happy moan. “That's fucking delicious.” 

Vassago smiled, feeling the feathers around his neck ruffle at the sounds Blitzø was making. “They do have amazing coffee here.” He sipped on his own drink, licking the foam off his beak.

“Yours sounded good, can I try some?” Blitzø looked at the mug in Vassago’s hand.

“You– want to share from my cup?” His face must have been completely red now, based on the heat he felt spreading across it.

“I don’t have cooties if that's what you're worried about.” Blitzø rolled his eyes, “And you can have a sip of mine if you want.”

art by: minkas

“Oh, I don’t mind!” He tried not to be too eager as he passed his cup to the imp, distracted as he watched Blitzø’s lips press to the rim, his eyelids hooding at the flavour and the foam coating his upper lip. How Vassago wanted to brush it off with his own talons and taste it, but instead he was treated to the imps forked tongue poking out to clean it.

Blitzø put the mug back in front of Vassago. “Thanks, that's good. You didn’t want to try mine?” Without meaning to, Vassago shook his head. “Suit yourself.” Blitzø shrugged. “Anyways, these are my ideas to win back Stolas.”

He held the papers out and Vassago opened them up, attempting to read over the writing (thankfully there were plenty of drawings accompanying the list), while also trying to nonchalantly turn the mug so he could drink from the same place Blitzø had. His heart raced from the indirect kiss they were sharing.

Returning his attention to the page, he looked over the title ‘ Win back Stols ’ surrounded by hearts and what Vassago could only assume were horse versions of Stolas and Blitzø. The list read as:

• One bed - my couch?
• Boombox outside window 
• Anonymous pen pals/magic mailbox - knows my handwriting
• Crash wedding - don’t marry that ugly fucking twunk guy speech?
• Meet cute - maybe if he got amnesia
• AMNESIA! - Stolas falls down the stairs? Don’t want to push him
                    Or pretend I have it? Have to fuck to remember!
• Train - say the thing
• Rain confession - what if it's sunny out… use a hose?

“You certainly have artistic talent.” Vassago couldn’t help but laugh at some of the drawings — an incubus gentleman being shot, Stolas surrounded by question marks saying ‘ Blitzy ’, the two of them eating burgers at a Wacdonalds, and a rather large drawing of a train. He pointed at the train. “This one—”

“That one would be good. Do you think you could get him to go on a train?” Blitzø excitedly interrupted him.

“Why?” 

“So I can tell him not to get on it, keep up.” Blitzø shook his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hm, I don’t know how that would come up naturally.” Vassago continued down the list, there were a lot of ideas notated. “What have you tried so far other than the wedding?”

“I did the boombox outside of his room. Really thought it would work.” Blitzø’s tail swished behind him like he was nervous to talk about what happened. An idea struck Vassago.

“You know I have a particular… knack for seeing events. They can be future, present, or past. If you’d like, I could take a quick look and be caught up on your previous attempts.” Blitzø looked hesitant, so Vassago lowered his voice. “I know it can be difficult to articulate oneself sometimes.”

Blitzø thought for a moment then said “Can you just look at the future and tell me if any of this even works?”

“Lo siento, I really try not to dabble in the future, it's rather fickle.” His mind flashed that memory of his own future, his talons running through white feathers, and he took a large pull of his drink, letting it burn his tongue to refocus his mind.

“Yeah, I figured. Stolas has said that before.” Blitzø sighed “Okay, you can look.”

“¡Maravilloso!” Vassago removed his gloves and Blitzø looked at him curiously. “I must make direct contact with you to look into your past. You’ll have to remove your bracer as well.”

“Right, makes sense.” Blitzø pulled off one bracer, completely unaware that Vassago was lying. He didn’t even have to be in the same room to view someone's past, he simply could not resist a chance to touch his hand, skin to skin this time.

Vassago held one hand out, Blitzø placed his hand on top then Vassago placed his other over it, letting his thumb stroke across his skin. The imp had such large hands, so warm, and the tips of his claws were calloused over. He found his bottom hand curling slightly, watching the slight uptick of Blitzø’s mouth when the motion tickled his wrist slightly. 

Vassago wanted nothing more than to pull this hand to his beak and press a kiss to it, or intertwine their fingers, but he felt his magic curling around him, excited to explore as Vassago had stated he would. His vision swam, and the Blitzø sitting in front of him faded away until Vassago instead saw the imp scrambling over the palace wall into Stolas’ garden.

He was carrying an old stereo, and suddenly one of the plants latched onto his pant leg. “I will play with you later,” Blitzø muttered, shaking it off before running over to a balcony. He looked up at the darkened glass doors, took a breath, and hit the play button, raising it over his head.

Music blared out in a cacophony of guitars and drums flowing out from the speakers. The song had started part way in, and the singer’s voice rang out, ‘ Taste me, you will see more is all you need dedicated to how I’m killing you. ’ Before they began the next verse, Blitzø was being lifted up by glowing celestial magic, his radio pulled from his grip as Blitzø was promptly dropped into the swimming pool.

The imp swam up, spitting water out as he shouted, “Hey, I’m supposed to be getting you wet right now not the other way around!” He climbed onto the concrete, noticing his radio was completely shorted out from the magic. Blitzø looked at the still-empty balcony, then gnashed his fangs and continued shouting, “Oh come on, that would’ve made you laugh!”

Blitzø was lifted once more and tossed back into the water. This time when he resurfaced, Stolas was staring down at him. “Ha. Ha.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and disdain. He spun around, walking back into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

art by: minkas

Vassago was about to retreat from the past when he was once again overwhelmed by Blitzø’s memories. Green flames emerged, quickly shifting the scene to the imp kicking open a door while screaming at Stolas, “Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich asshole!” He paced in circles, “Treat me like one of your little butler imps! You can't just dismiss me like that!” Tears built in his eyes.

Vassago forced the image away, closing off his magic, tasting its annoyance on his tongue when he severed the connection. He took a few breaths, recentering on his surroundings, and he briefly felt Blitzø’s hand squeeze against his own. “You good?”

“Sí, it can be a bit… draining.” He forced a smile, “I see that didn’t go very well, may I ask why that particular music?”

Blitzø looked at their still touching hands. “I know he probably would’ve liked some fancy orchestra stuff, but the tape was jammed in there. I was hoping the gesture would be enough.”

“Hm.” Vassago also looked to their hands, resuming his gentle stroking.

“Um, you said Stolas comes out here, yeah?” Vassago nodded and felt Blitzø tug his hand back slightly. “I wouldn’t want him to come in and get the wrong idea if he saw this.”

For the second time today, another brilliant idea popped into Vassago’s mind. Trying to be more bold, he slid his hand further up, a talon sliding under Blitzø’s sleeve. “Would that be so terrible?”

“Uh…” Blitzø’s eyes got wide. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Maybe it would be good for Stolas to think you're losing interest. Have you not heard the saying, ‘the heart wants what it can’t have’?” Now he gripped Blitzø’s much larger hand with his own, pulling him in closer.

“I mean, sure, but—”

“Perhaps we could make him jealous by pretending to date. You know, fake dating is a very common rom-com trope, I think you missed it on your extensive list.” He let his other hand trail up Blitzø’s arm and caress that white cheek. 

Blitzø pulled away completely, and Vasssago frowned at his advance being turned down. “He wouldn’t believe we are dating.” Blitzø’s voice was pained, and he left unsaid what he believed Stolas would assume about the nature of their intimacy. Vassago had a guess based on the argument he gleaned at the end of his foray in Blitzø’s past. 

“¿Por qué? This right now could be a date, are we not enjoying coffee and getting to know one another? It’s not so terrible being out with me, is it?” He wanted to convince Blitzø to engage in this farce if only to give Vassago the opportunity to date the man and prove he would be a much more preferable match than Stolas.

“No, but—”

Vassago cut him off, trying to sweeten the pot and sway Blitzø to agree. “Plus, I could grant you access to all the Goetian events and establishments you would otherwise be barred from. No more pesky security kicking you out if you are there as my date. You can hardly pursue Stolas if you cannot even get close to him.” He didn’t believe for a second that Blitzø would let anything get in his way once his mind was set on a goal, he just wanted that goal to be himself.

Still, Blitzø faltered. He sucked on his iced coffee before answering, “Maybe. I want to try a few more things first.”

“Naturally.” Vassago gathered the papers, folding them back up and handing them to Blitzø. “Think about it and let me know, my offer will stand.” He would wait an eternity if need be, his very soul knew this man would be well worth it.

A week after Vassago met with Blitzø, he decided to reach out once more. He had received an invitation to an art gallery, the theme of which was Azathoth’s Tears. Vassago had a plus one and knew Stolas would be in attendance, so he sent his extra invitation to Blitzø’s office along with a note. 

He had not received a response, but felt certain the imp would arrive. Even after Vassago waited outside the gallery for twenty minutes before moving inside due to the cooling night air, he knew Blitzø would show up. Vassago hovered around the entrance, barely taking in the photography of the once-in-a-millennia event.

Nearly an hour into the evening, Blitzø quietly slipped through the front door. He stayed close to the wall, eyes alert as he took in the room. Vassago watched curiously, feeling as if he was privy to Blitzø at work, especially since his clothes seemed to be sporting a fair amount of human blood. 

Soon those yellow and red eyes landed on Vassago, and his posture relaxed a bit as he made his way over. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Work has been fucking hectic.”

“That's quite alright, the exhibit is open for a few hours yet.” He wasn’t even the least bit annoyed at the tardiness, only further impressed by Blitzø’s character. He had priorities in his career, yet still made time for his romantic interests. “How has your venture been?” Vassago gestured forward and they started walking around.

Blitzø grimaced. “I tried a couple more things… the first one really didn’t go well.” Vassago looked at him patiently. “I tried to give him amnesia. I know that place like the back of my hand, so it wasn’t hard to sneak through one of the servant passages and leave a skateboard at the top of the staircase.”

“Díos mío…” Vassago could tell this would not end well.

“I mean, would a fall down the stairs really hurt one of you guys? Immortal Goetia are pretty fucking hardy… for the most part. I just wanted him to bump his head and, ya’ know, forget the last couple of weeks.” Blitzø’s tail was lightly curling around his legs.

“I suspect he remembered everything after his tumble?” Vassago indulged his urge to place a hand on Blitzø‘s shoulder and give him a reassuring pat.

“No,” he dragged the word out. “He didn’t even get near it… One of his annoying little servants stepped on it first… went flying right down.” He flinched, recalling the incident. “Nasty broken leg, I offered to help pay the hospital bill, but Chippy or whatever tore me a new one and now Stolas’ whole staff is keeping an eye out for me.” Blitzø let out a sigh.

“That is unfortunate.” Vassago led them around a corner. The room was getting more crowded, and Blitzø tucked a bit closer to Vassago.

“Well, those little shits aren’t guarding the mailbox, so I dropped off an anonymous letter last night.” Blitzø tossed up a devious grin Vassago’s way.

“And how does that one play out?” He couldn’t help but return the smile.

“He reads the letter and is compelled to write back. Then we start talking more and more, he falls for the stranger at which point I reveal it was me all along. Boom-” Blitzø clapped his hands together “-we are back in business.”

“Hm, ‘business’?” He was intrigued by the word choice.

“Yeah, or whatever.” Blitzø frowned a bit, glancing at the crystal on his bracer before shoving his hands into his pockets, closing off somewhat. “If it all goes well, I won’t need your help.”

“Vaya, then why did you come here tonight?” He dared to hope the imp would simply say that he just wanted to see Vassago.

“I just wanted to see,” Vassago’s breath caught as Blitzø was looking up at him, but his gaze shifted slightly, softening as he said, “him.”

Vassago turned slightly, catching sight of Stolas standing in front of a blown-up shot of one of the comets streaking across a supernova. His daughter was right by his side, taking in the art as they spoke to each other animatedly.

When he looked back to Blitzø, Vassago was unsurprised to see so much longing in the man's eyes as he took in Stolas, a wobbly lovestruck smile on his lips. How Vassago wanted that gaze set on him. It was an effort not to take Blitzø’s chin and tilt back his way.

“Oh fuck,” Blitzø muttered. He grabbed Vassago to turn them both and look at some nearby art. “I think he saw me, just pretend like we aren’t here.”

“Blitzø!” Stolas had swept across the room in an instant, standing behind them and talons tapping against the tiled floor when they did not react. “Are you honestly acting like you cannot hear me?”

“Oh hey! Stols!” Blitzø caved, giving an awkward laugh. “Fancy running into you–”

“Enough.” Stolas cut him off. Vassago did not fully turn; instead, he glanced at the two until Stolas shot him a pointed look, so he pretended to be very interested in the nameplate under the photograph and just listened. “How dare you stalk me here.”

“What! Stalk! I’m not doing that.” Blitzø’s tail whipped around.

“Oh, so this is purely a coincidence? Really. You have such a deep interest in art all of a sudden?” Stolas’ voice was rising slightly.

Blitzø whispered, “You know I like the stars.”

There was a moment of silence and Vassago wanted to see what was happening so badly. Finally Stolas said, “Go home Blitzø. Oh, and I’d better not receive another one of your ludicrous letters in the mail too.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Stolas let out an annoyed snarl at his response. 

“As if this would be the idea of anyone else.” Vassago felt magic tickle the air. “You scared my daughter, I am being kind in warning you to never do this again.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to happen, Stolas–”

The prince cut him off, snapping, “Of course not.” 

Blitzø tried to speak again, but Vassago heard Stolas’ talons as he walked away. He turned back to Blitzø, who quickly rubbed at his eyes to rid the evidence of tears in them, holding a crumpled paper in his hands. “I am sorry about that Blitzø.” He was so torn. Part of him would love it if this was enough for Blitzø to let Stolas go, but it also saddened Vassago to see him hurt. “What did your letter say?” 

Blitzø handed the page to him. When Vassago opened it he saw a multitude of cut-out magazine letters glued to it, spelling out the message ‘GonNa MaEk U MniE 4 EVaR’ with an anatomically correct heart next to it. No wonder his daughter had been frightened.

Blitzø must have seen the grimace that crossed his face. “Maybe we should try your idea after all.” He sniffled slightly. Vassago pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Blitzø. “Thanks.”

“We can discuss it more later. Would you like to leave?” Vassago glanced towards Stolas, who was ushering his daughter further into the gallery, tossing a final glare Blitzø’s way before leaving the room.

“Probably for the best.” Blitzø shuffled back to the main entrance, and Vassago followed after. “You don’t have to bail too.”

Vassago shrugged. “I am content with what I have seen. Allow me to at least see you out.” 

As they stepped out into the cool night, Blitzø immediately pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Vassago, who turned it down. He watched Blitzø take a long drag, and how the smoke curled around his fangs and lips when he opened his mouth, letting it spill out on its own. 

Together, they walked around the block. When they approached the van, Blitzø dropped his smoke to the ground, putting it out with his boot. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around soon.”

“Yes, would you like to meet for coffee again tomorrow?” Vassago stood back as Blitzø slipped into his vehicle. He pulled out his phone and frowned.

“How about the day after? I have another contract to get done that’s going to keep me late.” He looked back to Vassago. “Same time and place as before?”

“¡Suena perfecto!” He waved to Blitzø, watching as he drove off until the van was completely out of his vision. His heart swelling with excitement, Vassago immediately went home to look up popular date spots in Hell. He was going to sweep Blitzø off his feet so thoroughly the imp would be saying ‘Stolas who?’ in no time.

Chapter Text

Vassago and Blitzø had met for coffee four more times over the past week and a half since the art exhibit; the imp had agreed to meet up for some ‘fake’ dates at a few different places. He noted that the coffee shop may be a little bit of a dead end when Stolas had not happened through.

He always seemed a bit on edge when they met, looking around nervously for Stolas and asking if Vassago was sure about helping him. Despite saying he was, Blitzø would still ask him a few more times during their ‘dates’. It surprised him a bit that this man who gave off such a confident demeanour had these moments of self-doubt, but Vassago did not mind reassuring him, especially when Blitzø would then give a small shy smile afterwards.

Today, Vassago was waiting outside a book signing event Blitzø had invited him to. When he’d received the invitation, Vassago admittedly mistook it for a real date until Blitzø mentioned it was one of Stolas’ favourite authors so he would absolutely be there.

Vassago tugged at his waistcoat for the umpteenth time– it did not matter it had been freshly pressed this morning, he was certain there was some unseen wrinkle that Blitzø would see. “Hey.” Vassago was startled hearing Blitzø’s voice behind him, frustrated when his crest feathers lifted out of place.

“¡Hola, Blitzø!” He tamped the errant feathers back down as he took in the fetching red turtleneck and spiked leather jacket the man was wearing. 

“I’m not late this time right?” Blitzø glanced at his cell phone.

“No, the event starts shortly, shall we head in?” Before Vassago reached the door, Blitzø opened it and held for him to pass first. His feathers ruffled up once again as if this was the first time in his life someone held a door for him.

There was already a small crowd building within the establishment. The author was not yet present at the signing table, but thankfully there was a display near the entrance with their extensive collection. The recently released book was most prominent, so Vassago picked it up, glancing over the title ‘ Passion and Brimston e’ before reading the synopsis. 

From the periphery of his vision, Vassago watched Blitzø tail swish anxiously as he looked all around the bookstore. “You know, I have a recommendation for today.” Vassago put the novel back and looked to Blitzø.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Sí, today, you should ignore Stolas.” Blitzø's face ran through several expressions, shock then anger and finally confusion.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” he snapped. A handful of nearby demons turned to shoot him a nasty look, one even shushing. “It’s not a fucking library, bitch,” Blitzø shot back.

Vassago let out a nervous laugh, apologizing quickly as he ushered Blitzø down some stacks of books and explained, “If you want Stolas to think you are moving on, you can’t spend the whole time staring at him or trying to talk to him. Let's just act like this is an unintended coincidence. We did not know about the signing, and are here for our own purposes.”

Blitzø gnawed on his bottom lip. “Are you sure that would work?”

“Yes, make him miss you a bit.” Vassago gave him a coy smile. “Now what do you enjoy reading?” He turned towards the books in front of them, noticing it was the history section.

“I don’t do much reading, other than work stuff.” Blitzø shrugged nonchalantly. “Stolas would read stuff to me though. Mostly what he wanted to recreate.” His cocky smirk turned into a fond smile. Vassago assumed he was recalling a particularly enjoyable memory, so he cleared his throat to regain Blitzø’s attention.

“What are your hobbies, then?” Vassago drifted away from the history books, and Blitzø stayed next to him as they browsed the shelves.

Blitzø lit up at the question, digging out his phone. “I’m pretty fucking great at drawing, check these out.” He scrolled through his gallery, past image after image of sketched horses and going into great detail describing each one — their names, personalities and relationships. 

“They have such creative names,” Vassago laughed out, the sound a warble while reading all the little story threads connecting characters. 

Blitzø stopped swiping and looked at Vassago. “You birds all sound so funny when laughing… he makes these cute little hoots, especially when he really gets going.” Blitzø let out a sorrowful sigh. “What do you like?”

“Oh, I have been interested in chess and fencing at the moment. I could take this opportunity to pick up a book on more advanced maneuvers.” He caught Blitzø rolling his eyes as they walked to the section Vassago needed. “What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Blitzø responded while peeking around a corner as the bell on the door rang out. He frowned at the young sparrow that entered.

“Not with words.” 

Blitzø’s expression twisted, like he wanted to hold back, but then spilled out, “It's just such a fucking rich guy answer– ‘chess and fencing,’” he imitated Vassago’s cadence. 

Vassago chuckled, “Those activities are not exclusive to the wealthy. You must have an interest in weaponry, being an assassin, after all, ¿sí?”

“Yeah, but real weapons. Guns and knives.”

“I assure you, a sabre is a real weapon–”

“Ever kill anyone with it?”

Vassago balked for a moment. “Cielos, no, it is a combative sport . The goal is to beat the other opponent by earning points and not to kill them.”

“Not a real weapon then,” Blitzø smirked at him.

“Oh hush, it is, I will prove it to you.” Vassago waved his hand, enjoying the sound of Blitzø laughing at him. It warmed his heart that the man was enjoying their time together. He hoped Stolas would not show up and they could continue their conversation all day.

His wish was dashed with the next ringing of the doorbell as Stolas passed through the threshold. The prince was surprisingly dressed down in a black dress shirt and red waistcoat, no cape or top hat in sight. Blitzø immediately tracked his path into the bookshop, stepping forward to go to the prince. 

Vassago gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Remember what we said? It's just a coincidence we are here. Let him see you, don’t react, and then we will leave.” Already, Vassago was pulling a book off the shelf to purchase, not paying attention to which.

“What if he doesn’t even notice us here?” Blitzø continued to lean around the bookshelf and watch Stolas step into the line forming at the author's table. 

“Oh, don’t worry, if you want him to look this way we can accomplish that easily.” Vassago began loudly laughing, it was clearly forced and lacking his typical warble. Blitzø looked at him with dawning horror, and Vassago took the chance to brush his hand against Blitzø’s face while closing his jaw that hung open. ¡Oh, basta ! You are such a card!” he said loudly.

“What the fuck,” Blitzø whispered at him, eyes darting around.

Vassago glanced back, noticing that Stolas had turned toward the commotion, his feathers ruffled around his neck before he pointedly turned away from Vassago and Blitzø. “You got your wish.” Vassago smiled at the imp.

“I thought we would be more subtle. Is the entire store staring at us?” He tried to turn, but Vassago maneuvered them so he blocked his view of their audience. 

“So what if they are? I don’t mind.” It helped that he was a prince; it was unlikely anyone would say something out loud that could offend him if they did take issue seeing him spending time with an imp.

“That's your thing then, getting watched?” Blitzø let out a shaky laugh.

It took him a moment to understand the innuendo. “What! No! I– that is not what I meant!” Vassago stuttered, feeling his face heat up and feathers lift. “¡Maldita sea, estas plumas serán mi fin!” He tried to tamp them back down. Blitzø’s laughter became genuine watching the prince fumble around, embarrassed. 

“Chill out, red. I was teasing.” Blitzø took the book Vassago had been holding, allowing him to use both hands to fix his feathers as Blitzø began flipping through the pages and quickly glancing over the drawn images while he leaned against the bookcase. “This looks confusing as fuck, remind me not to let you convince me to play chess.”

“I’m sure you would pick it up in no time.” Vassago held his hand out to retake the book. They wandered around the shelves a bit longer, making sure to pass through every genre, continuing light conversation. The signing event had begun, and the lineup to the author was winding throughout the shop. “Shall we take our leave now?”

“I guess.” 

“Remember–”

“I know, Christ on a fucking stick,” Blitzø muttered as they walked past the line up to the cashier. Vassago made his purchase, watching Blitzø keep his gaze downcast. When his book was in hand and they turned to leave Blitzø looked up, his eyes widened slightly, and he raised one hand in a small wave.

Vassago glanced towards Stolas, who was clearly within line of sight. The man simply ignored the gesture and turned his head to the side as they passed by. Blitzø had his arms crossed in front of his torso by the time they reached the door, Vassago held it open for him to exit.

Instead of chastising him for not sticking to the plan, Vassago patted one of Blitzø's horns and said, “I am sorry about that, Blitzø.” Not letting it bother him when the imp shook it off. He glanced through the shop window as they walked by, seeing Stolas’ head was turned 180° around, looking back right back at him, brows drawn in confusion. Vassago turned away first and asked Blitzø, “Would you let me treat you to some coffee before you go?” He let his hand graze slowly down that horn before removing it. 

Blitzø let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I guess.”

art by: minkas

Vassago knew Blitzø had arrived at his palace before the footman announced his presence from the sound of his van backfiring in the porte cochere. “No need for the formalities.” Vassago stepped into the foyer, addressing the servant waiting at the door.

The imp bowed his head before stepping away. Vassago slipped outside in time to see Blitzø walking around his vehicle; he was dressed in his usual work suit jacket but paired it with a white dress shirt and black tie. “Hey, ready to go?”

“Hola, Blitzø, I am. Thank you for offering to drive.” Vassago gave a wide smile when Blitzø opened the passenger door for him. He loved how considerate the man was. Vassago had to fold up his legs a fair bit to fit in the smaller seat, but was still looking forward to making the trip together. 

“Well gotta put on the full show right?” Blitzø said as he climbed into his side of the van “This restaurant in Gluttony looks super fancy. I’m not going to get refused entry for not wearing an as cot or something, am I?”

Vassago chuckled. “No, you will not.” Especially since he had called ahead to make sure they would deal with no issues upon entry. It was far more likely he would be turned away simply for being an imp than a wardrobe discrepancy. “You look very dashing tonight, Blitzø.” He watched the familiar frown that crossed his features whenever Vassago paid him any compliments. He had a suspicion he was forcing his lips down to not show a smile. 

Vassago asked about Blitzø’s day at work, listening to his story about a particularly gruesome hit involving multiple targets. His excitement built so much as he went on that he nearly missed a few turns on the way to the restaurant. Shortly, they were parked across the street from ‘The Whimsical Table.’ Blitzø sat in the driver's seat for a moment, taking in the exterior of the restaurant. The brick archways opened to allow a view into the softly lit dining room within. 

Vassago opted to exit the van first, he walked over to the driver's side to open the door for Blitzø when he remained inside. “Shall we?” He noticed the subtle swallowing motion Blitzø made before finally nodding and hopping out. Vassago offered his arm when the pair approached the door, holding back a squawk of happiness when Blitzø immediately looped his hand into the crook of his elbow, the grip already familiar to him. 

The hostess gave them a quick once over, and a slight frown was all she dared give to Blitzø before taking them through the restaurant and seating them a little further away from the main seating area that surrounded the lavish chandelier; the focal point of the dining chamber. The demon handed them the menus, Vassago ordered a bottle of champagne for the table, and off she went.

Blitzø tugged at his collar, stretching around the too-large chair to peer over the crowd. “We are probably just early,” Vassago assured him.

“How did you find out he was going to be here again?” Blitzø’s eyes returned to Vassago, narrowing slightly.

He forced a smile. “Oh, I overheard that he may be out tonight at our meeting the other day.” It was a complete lie– while he did have a meeting with Stolas, the other prince was mostly silent as usual. Occasionally he cut a glance towards Vassago, but there was no discussion of this restaurant by anyone that day. He just wanted a chance to wine and dine Blitzø for a bit. He felt like they were growing closer each time they met, and he wanted to have some time together uninterrupted by Stolas’ presence, even if he always was on the edge of Blitzø’s thoughts.

Blitzø accepted the response, opening up his menu. Vassago mimicked him, despite knowing he would order the same pasta dish he always got when here. “There are no prices.” 

“Don’t worry about that, it's my treat tonight. Order whatever you’d like, por favor.” Vassago did not expect the annoyance that crossed Blitzø’s face. When the waiter returned with the bottle and took their orders, Vassago became more concerned he had made an error because Blitzø was curt and closed off afterwards. 

Shortly after the food arrived, the tense silence was getting unbearable and Vassago blurted out, “Did I offend you?”

Blitzø paused with his fork suspended by his mouth. “I can pay for myself. I’m not desolate.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you are, I just wanted to treat you.” Vassago twisted the stem of his glass where it rested on the table “I have enjoyed… getting out.” He wasn’t ready to lay his affections for the imp out on the table yet, perhaps he was too cowardly to ever do it.

Blitzø took a bite of his food, chewing slowly. “Let me split the bill at least. You are already helping me out with Stolas.” As he said the other man's name, Blitzø took another slow perusal of the room.

“Por supuesto, please let me know if I say anything untoward again.” 

Blitzø sighed. “Listen, I may have some of my own hang-ups when it comes to nob–”

“Vassago, what an unexpected pleasure to run into you here.” A voice behind Blitzø drawled. “Come join my dear sister and I–” Vassago rolled his eyes as Andrealphus approached him, stopping short when he passed Blitzø’s seat and noticed the imp sitting there. 

A deviously gleeful smile spread across the white peacock’s features. “Marquis, I must regretfully,” Vassago let his disdain for the man seep out in his clipped words, “turn down your offer. I have company already.”

“I see that… is this some kind of charity?” He leaned down, placing a hand over his beak to whisper into Vassago’s ear, still loud enough for Blitzø to hear. “Is it dying?”

“No, pendejo . If you don’t mind, we are trying to enjoy our meal.”

art by: minkas

“Stella, come here, you must see this amusing display.” He waved over Stella, her heels clicking across the tile and a smile mirroring her brother’s when she took in Vassago and Blitzø.

“I thought you were another boring stiff. Vassago, let us in on the joke.” She took Blitzø’s untouched glass, tossing back the champagne. 

“There is no joke, aunque me parece que dos bromas acaban de unirse a nosotros.” Vassago muttered as he waved over a waiter. “Could you please bring us a new glass?”

Stella balked “How dare–!” She stopped when her brother gave her a sharp look.

“Honestly Vassago, if you were feeling lonely, you could have called on me, no need to stoop down to the lower class for company.” Vassago tried to ignore the glint in Andrealphus’ blue eyes and the squeeze of his hand that rested on Vassago’s shoulder.

He was not successful as he felt the pulse of his magic flooding his veins, forcing the infuriating image of that very same hand caressing across his cheek while Andrealphus murmured, ‘ I’ve always had a certain affection for lonely princes. ’

“Hey here’s an idea, fuck off!” Blitzø’s voice cut through the visions thrall. Vassago blinked back to awareness, watching as the angered faces of Andrealphus and Stella turned to Blitzø.

“You dare speak to us like that, imp?” Andrealphus snapped.

“Sure fucking do. Apparently, he is too nice to just say it, so again, fuck off.” 

“You!” Stella screeched out, many of the other restaurant patrons turned their way at the sound. “You're the one that fucked my husband, I should’ve recognized that ugly face.” Her hands clenched into fists, shaking from her rage.

“The one and only, bitch.” Blitzø gave her a middle finger.

Stella rounded on Vassago, sneering, “What is it about this disgusting creature that has you princes falling all over yourselves?!”

Andrealphus let out a laugh trying to break the tension. “Really, Stolas’ little toy? Is he letting you borrow–”

It was Vassago’s turn to interrupt them, he stood up to his full height, narrowing his eyes. “You go too far, Marquis. I suggest you and your sister leave us at once.”

“Of course, your highness .” They both bowed slightly, immediately adhering to his higher rank of nobility. 

Before they walked away though, Vassago added, “Apologize to Blitzø first.”

Andrealphus forced a smile and, without looking Blitzø in the eye, said, “ So sorry .” 

Stella, on the other hand, ground her beak and spat out, “I will not. It ruined my marriage.” She turned and stalked off, and Andrealphus was quick to follow after. Vassago was about to step away from the table and demand Stella apologize when he felt a tug on his shirt sleeve.

“It’s fine, let it go. She’s not wrong, I did fuck her husband and I am actively trying to ruin her marriage by getting back together with him.” Blitzø took his hand back, taking up his fork once more.

Vassago sat down and watched him curiously. “Doesn’t it bother you how they spoke to you?”

Blitzø gave a shrug. “Used to it.”

“Stolas never acted like that, did he?” He had a hard time imagining Stolas letting out that particular brand of cruelty, but then again it was hard to know what happened behind closed doors. 

“No, he said some not-great stuff sometimes. Nobody is perfect, I guess. Still, he was never like that.”  Blitzø gave him a smirk. “Maybe it's a prince thing.”

“Ah, you noticed that.” Vassago cast his gaze down, for the first time in his life feeling some semblance of shame over his title. “I wasn’t trying to be deceptive.”

“Mhm.” Blitzø snorted. “I’m not going to call you ‘Your Highness’, just so you know.”

Vassago smiled at his candor. “Thank you for your bluntness with them.” Vassago felt a boldness within himself as he looked back up, reaching a hand out to place over one of Blitzø’s. “I find the way you speak so freely very refreshing.”

“I’m sure it will get old fast.” Vassago laughed at his quip even as Blitzø exhaled loudly, rolling his eyes at him. It was a few breaths more before Blitzø’s hand pulled away to take a drink. Vassago took it as a small victory that he held onto it as long as he had. “So tonight was kind of a bust.”

“I suppose it could be seen that way,” Vassago remarked. Blitzø gave him that intense stare from when they first met. “What are you looking for?” he asked without thought.

“I’ll know when I see it.” Blitzø broke his gaze, content with whatever he gleaned. “So are we splurging on dessert tonight?”

“Por supuesto, they have a cheesecake to die for.” Vassago topped up his drink.

“Sounds good.” Blitzø held out his glass, letting him fill it once more. As Vassago glanced around for the waiter, he caught Andrealphus and Stella watching from their own table across the way. He set his jaw and returned his attention back to Blitzø, hoping to enjoy another hour out together that night. 

Vassago and Blitzø strolled together along the waterfront. It was a popular location in Hell for royals to promenade. The street was lined with various shops and cafes while the other side looked over the red water that lapped against the bricked barrier. The view was more beautiful to Vassago today than it had been in years.

He occasionally glanced towards the other nobles milling about with shopping bags or gossiping over their drinks. All of them seemed to have a dullness in their eyes, and he wondered if he had looked that way a few short weeks ago. Now it seemed like life had regained some spark he'd barely realized was gone, and he felt deep in his heart this was because of his companion. 

Blitzø was pointing out various sights for him, from the roaming sea creature off in the distance of the lake to an intricate design within a storefront display window. “Have you ever gone swimming in this?” Blitzø asked, climbing up to peer over the fencing.

Vassago stepped up closer in case he should tip over the ledge. “No, I cannot imagine it's very clean water.”

“Don’t want to get your feathers a little dirty, Vass?” Blitzø snorted, he leaned forward more, a hand reaching out to graze the high splash of water as a wave crashed against the stones.

Vassago tugged at his collar. No one had ever given him a nickname before, and it made his cheeks flush each time it was spoken by Blitzø. He hoped to never forget the sound of Blitzø’s voice saying his name, the sight of his lips moving to form the word. It would haunt and thrill his thoughts forever. 

“I’m sure you would not appreciate the leeches that would swarm you if you took a dip,” Vassago responded not as swiftly as he would have liked.

Blitzø turned to look his way. “You're lying.”

“By all means, find out for yourself,” he challenged Blitzø, loving the spark of excitement that filled the imps' eyes until a devious grin spread across his lips and he tugged off his jacket, sending Vassago’s heart racing. 

“That sounded like a dare, Vass. I never turn down a dare.” Blitzø tossed the article of clothing onto the ground and swung a leg over the railing.

“Don’t actually do it!” Vassago lunged forward to drag Blitzø away from the fence. He just laughed and tried to scramble back over after escaping from his grip. He really was a slippery trickster, so Vassago changed tactics, picking up the jacket and holding it over the edge.

“Hey, that's  real leather, asshole!”

“¿En serio? I imagine water is bad for it then.” Vassago smiled sweetly at Blitzø, whose face was scrunched up in annoyance.

Blitzø’s gaze searched his face before he smirked. “You wouldn’t do it.”

“That sounds like a dare,” Vassago repeated Blitzø's earlier words. Blitzø held back a laugh, finally conceding and sliding off the fence before tugging his jacket back on. 

“Spoilsport.” He stuck his tongue out at Vassago, starting up their walk once more, even reaching out his hand to take Vassago's elbow before he had a chance to offer it. It was all these small things accumulating that were giving him hope Blitzø may turn his affections fully onto him one day soon.

“You haven’t mentioned if the pea-dickhead gave you any more shit,” he asked while casually glancing up at the cloudless sky.

Vassago had to think for a moment about what he was referring to. “Do you mean Andrealphus? There isn’t much he can do other than spread gossip. I am fine, thank you for your concern though.”

Blitzø licked his lips. “Think Stolas heard some of that?”

Vassago tried to mask the frown that pulled at his mouth. “That would be the aim of our farce.” He tried to keep his voice even and not betray any irritation he felt.

“Yeah, I know. Are you sure this is working though? Between you telling me to ignore him and his security increasing their rounds–” Vassago wished he was more surprised to hear Blitzø was still peeking around Stolas’ palace. He was foolish for his earlier musings that the imp was slowly shifting interests. “–have you seen him acting any differently?”

“I cannot say that I’ve seen him much, my work has been busier at the courts lately.” Which was the truth, it had been a bit exhausting how much the Goeita were relying on his magic these past weeks. He just wanted it to recede out of existence some days.

“Yeah, you do look like shit.” Vassago looked down at Blitzø, unamused. “I wasn't going to say anything but it's true.” 

“You really are a gentleman, Blitzø.” 

“It's so refreshing how freely you speak Blitzø!” He impersonated Vassago with an over-the-top accent. “I told you it got old fast. This could be record timing.” Blitzø laughed, but Vassago noticed an edge to his features. There was something deeper to this self-deprecating joke he made.

art by: minkas

“Not yet, I’m afraid.” Vassago wanted to sate his curiosity, and could feel the annoying tug of his magic to search into Blitzø’s past to find the answer for himself. Thankfully Blitzø asked him a question to redirect his mind.

“Can’t you just tell them to fuck off if you're getting worn down from work?”

“Would you shirk your responsibilities because you are tired?” Vassago answered with his own question, knowing full well Blitzø worked long hours, often taking on missions alone.

“I’m not a prince, burnout is something I have to deal with.” 

“The title is not as freeing as you might think.” Vassago watched Blitzø roll his eyes dramatically.

“Right, being born with power and wealth must be such a heavy burden.” His tail was lashing slightly with the words. 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Vassago recited over Blitzø’s groan. “There are certain expectations for us royals. I can admit I have been more fortunate in some regards, never forced to make a marriage match, but I am in no position to refuse access to my magic, should the Ars Goetia demand it. Even if I hate every single second.”

“It’s still not the same.”

“No, it's not.” 

Blitzø seemed put out by the response. “So that’s that?”

“Would you like to have a debate over the disparities of our classes? I am more than open to discussion, Blitzø.” Vassago watched the annoyance bleed into curiosity.

“Why do you hate it? Having magic seems pretty convenient.” He shifted the conversation slightly, but Vassago took it as a good sign he was still engaging with him, even if it wasn’t a topic Vassago often spoke on.

He took a steadying breath, deciding to throw caution to the wind and be honest. “I often have to reveal terrible misdeeds of my fellow nobles. Their disdain for me is palpable and no one has much interest in building a friendship with someone who may well be their undoing in the future. Those that do try are usually looking to climb the social ladder.” A lesson he learned at an early age thanks to a certain Marquis.

“Well that fucking sucks, maybe you should try telling them to fuck off from time to time. Would be a waste of a fancy title if you never did it.” He turned his gaze towards the shops.

“Sí, perhaps I will try it sometime.” Vassago smiled, watching Blitzø’s gaze roam. He noticed the imps' tail swishing with interest when they approached a flower shop. It had buckets of blooms set up outside, busting in every colour imaginable and a heavenly scent dancing on the breeze.

Blitzø edged closer, letting a claw brush over some of the blooms. “Do you know what these are?” he asked Vassago. He looked at the yellow flowers and shook his head. “Tansies, they are used to declare war.”

“War? With flowers?” Vassago chuckled.

“Yeah, and see these here, really pretty, yes?” Blitzø pointed to clustered purple flowers.

“Bellas, very stunning.”

Blitzø smiled. “But they are a warning of danger.” He pointed out a few more blooms and supplied their meaning, his smile getting wider with each one he taught Vassago.

“Hm, what is the meaning behind Sunflowers?” Vassago ran his talons over the larger silky bloom. “They are one of my favourites.”

“Loyalty… what's with that face for?” Blitzø asked when he looked at Vassago. He felt his face heating, unsure just what expression had crossed his features while he admired Blitzø.

“Nothing, I just did not expect this particular hobby from you.” Vassago readjusted his glasses in an effort to cover his face.

“Stolas told me all about them, plants and stars are his thing. I’ll bet he doesn’t think I actually listened, let alone remembered.” Blitzø looked around briefly, peering into the shop. “Wait here.” 

Blitzø dashed inside and Vassago continued his slow perusal of the other flowers on display. He heard the ring of the shop bell then had a bouquet full of yellow lilies shoved into his face. “Oh!” He startled a bit, standing to his full height. Blitzø was still holding the flowers out for him. “Are these for me?”

“Yeah, these are grand cru yellow lilies, I think they suit you.” Blitzø shifted his gaze slightly to avoid direct eye contact. “And I wanted to say thank you.”

art by: Doria

Vassago took the bouquet. Holding the mass with both hands, he brought it to his beak, smelling the blooms. They were the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen, the burgundy center contrasting the full yellow petals. But it was more than that; to Vassago, any flower Blitzø chose with him in mind would be the most beautiful. He smiled with his face still buried in the flowers, reaching out a single hand to brush along Blitzø’s cheek. “Thank you so much, cariño.”

There was a sound of something clattering to the ground. When Vassago looked towards the noise, he saw Stolas standing a few feet away, watching them. His face betrayed his emotions, his mouth hung open slightly and his eyes filled with a deep sorrow. It only lasted a brief moment, by the time Blitzø turned to see what Vassago was staring at, Stolas’s face had closed off. The prince picked up the book he’d dropped and stormed past the two of them.

Vassago half expected Blitzø to chase after him, but the imp was staring after Stolas with an equally pained expression when he asked, “Was that good or bad?” His voice nearly cracked.

Vassago took a breath, not loving how quickly the lie raced out his throat. “Definitely good.”

art by: minkas

“I’m so glad you’ve agreed to widen your views on weaponry Blitzø.” Vassago smiled down at the man walking beside him through the country club, towards the fencing arena he had reserved for them. 

“You come out here a lot?” Blitzø asked, looking around, unsatisfied at their surroundings and slightly annoyed that he was gawked at by not only the passing Goetia, but also the imp servants. 

“Lots of unofficial business gets done at the club.” Vassago sighed. He had hoped to find a sparring partner here, but was always disappointed when sabres were dropped for work talk instead. “Here we are, I have had a uniform prepared for you.” 

Vassago kept to himself that it was a modified youth. He had a hard time procuring a fencing mask designed for imp horns, but eventually prevailed. Blitzø followed close behind Vassago as they entered the large changing room. He opened his locker to pull out Blitzø’s uniform, handing it to him for inspection and returning for his own. Vassago could’ve sworn he heard Blitzø scoff.

“I hope it fits well–” Vassago’s sentence was cut off by a squawk as he turned his head, seeing Blitzø already had his shirt off and was pulling down his pants. All of Vassago’s feathers stood up straight taking in the lean muscular body, red broken occasionally by white markings. He was helpless to let his eyes travel down to peek at the extremely tight-looking black boxer briefs, having to turn around to not stare at the man's obvious endowment. “You do not go nude under the uniform!” he shouted.

“How the fuck would I know that!” Blitzø was cracking up with laughter. “You get so worked up over nothing, Vass. Seriously, you’d think they raised all of you in a nunnery.” His tail smacked Vassago in the side of the leg as he jested.

Vassago had one hand tamping down his crest feathers, the other covering his face in an attempt to hide his embarrassment over his reaction. “Por favor, stop teasing me, Blitzø!”

“Okay, okay, I’m fully clothed now. The blushing maiden can look again,” he continued to tease. Vassago did turn to see Blitzø doing up the collar of his lamès. He pulled up his own pants, and when he went to remove his jacket, Blitzø made a whole show about covering his eyes and turning away.

“Just for that, I will not go easy on you,” Vassago lamented as they walked together into the arena. He took up a foil, choosing one for Blitzø as well.

“Oh yeah, bring it on, Polly.” He just smirked when Vassago sputtered over the human moniker, whipping the lightweight sword around.

“Step over here, I will show you the en garde position, how to lunge, parry and then we can have a simple bout.” Vassago helped Blitzø into the proper position, even more aware of the body underneath the layer of clothing he was maneuvering. Staying by his side, he took the same position, showing him the basic maneuvers and recreating them at the same time.

Soon enough, Blitzø groused while shoving on his mask. “Let's just do it already, I think I can poke you with a stick easily enough.” 

Vassago laughed, “I will be very impressed if you can manage that.” Both took the starting position, and Vassago announced the start. Immediately, Blitzø broke the advancement to swing at Vassago, who expertly knocked the blade to the side and touched the tip of his foil to Blitzø’s torso.

Vassago smiled down at Blitzø, who let out an annoyed growl. “Let's go again.” 

“As you wish, cariño.” They both reset. Vassago reminded Blitzø of the proper way to do a fencing step. He did better each time actually maintaining his proper stances, but still, he was too aggressive with his attacks. Vassago continued to beat him.

“Ugh, okay, this time I got you.” Blitzø took a more defensive turn, not advancing, for once waiting for Vassago to take the obvious bait. He smiled to himself, deciding to give Blitzø what he wanted, certain he would again make contact quickly.

When Vassago made his advancement, he watched the weight shifting on Blitzø’s foot to lunge for an attack, not expecting the imp to spin around, getting out of the way of his jab, or the resounding smack of the foil against his backside. He yelped out, losing his balance and tumbling forward to the ground.

Vassago, still on the floor, turned over onto his back, taking a moment to process. Before he could push himself up to stand, Blitzø was above him, mask shoved upward, holding out both hands to tug Vassago off the ground. The parrot was brought in close to his face with the motion, taking in the biggest grin on Blitzø’s face. “I fucking got you! Did you see that, I tricked your ass good, didn’t I?”

“Hm, you certainly did, tramposo.” Vassago scooched back a bit before finding his footing to stand. “I don’t want to burst your bubble, but técnicamente you can only use the blade of a sabre in a match. We are using foils.”

“Técnicamente,” Blitzø imitated, rolling his eyes, “Sounds like a sore loser to me.” 

“I am a bit sore actually, you might have pulled your strike a little bit.” Vasago pouted, rubbing at his behind that still stung. Blitzø tried to hold back a laugh. “What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” He sang out, stepping back to his end of the arena.

“Tell me!” Vassago followed after him, bending down to get at eye level, pulling his mask up to make eye contact.

Blitzø gave him a half smile. “You couldn’t handle it, trust me.”

“I most certainly could!” Vassago couldn’t resist pinching Blitzø’s cheek, the motion made him go stiff for a moment before forcing a lazy grin and brushing away the prince's hand.

“Let's go again so I can get a ‘proper’ win.” Blitzø stepped back into the starting position. Vassago returned to his end and they sparred a few more times. Blitzø did gain a proper win once more, promptly ending their session to ‘retire a champion’.

 Blitzø dabbed his sweat-covered face with a towel in the changing room. “Would you like a drink? They have a rather nice lounge,” Vassago asked after placing both their uniforms into the laundry basket.

“Sure.” They walked out of the change room together, setting off for a respite.

“Oh! They have some chess boards too!” Vassago chatted as they approached the large wooden double doors of the lounge. “We could try another new activity.”

“Oh no! I told you no way!” Blitzø tossed his arms up, overdramatizing his protest.

Vassago laughed, “At least let me explain the pieces, one of them is a horse.” He used his knowledge of the imps' fascination with horses to his advantage, only learning about it when he was asked if he owned a stable. He was sorely tempted to have one built when he had seen the disappointment on Blitzø’s face when he told him no.

“You think you can tempt me with the siren call of a horse, seriously? Because you are correct–” Blitzø had spun around, walking backwards as he spoke, neither paying attention to the doors opening. The person on the other side collided with Blitzø.

Both tumbled down, and Vassago was helpless to just stare at the tangled mess of limbs that was Blitzø and Stolas on the floor. Stolas sat up, his legs straddling Blitzø’s waist, an apology out of his mouth instantly. Vassago could see the moment the other prince realized precisely which imp he was on top of, the flush spreading across his cheek was mirrored on Blitzø’s.

“I– uh, what are you–” Stolas sputtered.

“Fuck sorry, I wasn’t looking–” Blitzø spoke at the same time. 

Vassago cut them off. “Do you need help, cariño?” He bent low, and Stolas’ head turned uncomfortably too far to the side, his shock dissipating finally as a particularly vexed look crossed his features. 

Stolas gracefully stood up, leaving Vassago to help Blitzø get up. Before he was even fully righted, Stolas tossed back at them a snarky, “Enjoy your drink, gentlemen,” before taking off through a portal.

Blitzø stared after it for a moment. Vassago broke their silence, “Shall we?” He sighed, giving a nod and following after Vassago. He did agree to try and play a few rounds of chess, but continued glancing back to the doors, looking to the place Stolas had vanished from.

Vassago sat in his favourite chair, legs tucked up to his chest, head resting on one knee as he stared at the bouquet Blitzø had given him. It was smaller now, some of the flowers had wilted too much to remain, and the final blooms barely clung to life.

Things seemed to be going quite well with Blitzø. At the very least, Vassago was less certain Stolas would be interested in returning Blitzø’s affections. Due to this, he was starting to have a hard time not spilling his feelings for Blitzø when he was around. When Blitzø looked at him with that big toothy smile, his heart raced so fast it was painful. 

Vassago sighed and slumped into his seat more. He wanted to do something bold. Blitzø was doing all this rom-com stuff for Stolas, so Vassago was going to do something grand and romantic, just like the movies.

He was expected to host a gathering soon, the other nobles were waiting for the prince to open his doors to their scrutiny once more. It was rare for Vassago to willingly comply. Always easier to avoid questions about when he planned to throw a party with well-timed gossip, he would just ignore the subtle jabs that other royals hosted many times over since Vasssgo’s last event. It was getting close to the point when the subtlety was dropped and flat-out complaints would be lobbed at him. Occasionally someone would suggest he settle down with a partner who would take over these tasks.

As much as Vassago hated these shallow parties, he was a bit excited for this one because he decided to invite Blitzø, and this would be the night he would confess to him. How glorious it would be to stand before all those Goetia and choose Blitzø above all the rest. 

The invitations had been sent out. Vassago was unsure of Blitzø’s personal address so he had it couriered to the office. He really wanted to hand deliver it, even carried it in his pocket when they met for coffee one day, but was too nervous to go through with it. So now he waited for some kind of confirmation that Blitzø had even received it.

As if by fate itself, a call came through his cellphone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Blitzø the prince had secretly taken. He sat up straight, grabbed his phone and jammed a talon on the answer button. “Hola, cariño!” 

“Hey Vass, I got your invite the other day, sorry I didn’t get back sooner.” Vassago could hear water running in the background. 

“Oh that is fine, I know you are a very busy man.” He swallowed down the anxious feeling that he was about to receive bad news.

“So… about this ball. It's like a big fancy thing? With a bunch of those royal types?” Blitzø’s voice sounded a little far from the speaker, Vassago was very curious about what he was doing on the other end of the line.

“Sí, just as all the places we have been visiting.”

“Did Stolas say he was going?”

Vassago’s heart sank. He was hoping Blitzø might not even breathe that name because he would have to lie now. “I’m not sure… not many have responded yet. I’m sure that he will, of course. It’s considered rude to turn down a prince’s invitation.” Vassago tried to laugh away the shakiness in his voice. Stolas would not be in attendance because Vassago did not invite him.

“Okay, I can make it work. Fuck this shirt is ruined.” Blitzø sighed and the water finally stopped. “I better not have to do any waltzes though.” 

“Do you not know how to dance, Blitzø?”

“Bitch please, I know how to dance. That stuff is not real dancing,” Blitzø scoffed.

Vassago laughed at him. “I assure you it is very real dancing and a waltz is considered quite scandalous.”

“Ha! Vass if you believe that, then you would have a stroke seeing my moves.” 

Vassago didn’t doubt it for a moment. What he wouldn’t give to dance with Blitzø in any capacity. That lonely part of him letting out the words before he could let the guilt sink in too deep that he was using this farce with Stolas for his own selfish desire to be closer to Blitzø. “Perhaps you should come by for some lessons. Can’t expect to sweep Stolas off his feet if you can’t spin around the dance floor.”

Blitzø let out a long sigh, “Yeah ,you’re probably right. Fine, I’ll come by today, let me just find something clean to wear.”

“Today?!” Vassago’s head crest raised with excitement.

“Is that okay? I can come over another–”

“It’s perfecto, I will just have the dancehall prepared.”

“You don't need to do a whole thing, Vass.”

“It's no fret cariño, I will see you pronto! ” He ended their call and immediately raced out of the room, calling out for some staff to have the room readied for company. He opted to use the phonograph and not try to get a live band on such short notice. Besides, he wanted this to feel like an intimate setting, and even wondered if it would be too much to have the chandelier and candelabra lit, but he opted not to in the end.

Vassago was flipping through his vinyl records when the front doorbell rang. He snatched up his selection and rushed over to answer it himself. Not that the staff would do it for him, they were very adept to his needs in all things. He supposed he should feel some sense of embarrassment that his perusal was becoming so obvious to everyone but Blitzø.

“Hola!” Vassago swung the door open. Blitzø was standing a little further back in anticipation. 

“Hey, whatcha got there?” Blitzø gestured to the records, so Vassago handed them over for inspection as he led them towards the dancehall. “Satan, got anything from this fucking century?”

Vassago just laughed it off, opening the door for Blitzø to pass through. The imp handed back the records and stepped further in. The sounds of their steps echoing, Vassago left him to set up the music, listening to Blitzø tapping his shoes around to make more noise.

The music played softly in the background as Vassago turned around to watch the man cup his hands over his mouth, shouting profanity and laughing at the echoing response. He looked towards Vassago, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to join in. 

Vassago couldn’t shake the need to glance around to ensure there was no one around before he shouted out, “Mierda!”  

“What does that mean?” Blitzø asked, tail wagging around with his excitement.

Vassago blushed a bit as he quietly said, “Shit.” 

“Teach me some more! I wanna know how to say bitch, ass, and dipshit!” He seemed to smile wider after each word made Vassago squirm a bit.

“Perra, culo and pendejo.” As Vassago supplied them, Blitzø would shout them out. 

“Okay, next I want to know whore, bastard and…” He thought for a moment, wagging his eyebrows as he finally said, “Daddy.”

Vassago nearly choked on air, he coughed a bit before answering “Puta, cabrón, and Papi.” Blitzø lit up with that last one.

“ Papi … yeah, I can fuck with that.”

Vassago never expected a single word to fluster him so much. For his own mental health, he tried to shift Blitzø’s attention back to their original task. “Would you like to start our dance lessons, or just focus on language today Blitzø?” 

“Alright, I know you can’t wait to get your hands on me so come to papi!” Blitzø laughed at his joke while Vassago’s heart nearly beat out of his chest at how close his words were to the truth.

Vassago forced himself to relax as he approached Blitzø. “We will start with a simple galop dance, it involves using the fencing step which you have done so well already. It is a bit quick in pace though.” 

He listened for the song to begin, placing one hand on Blitzø’s shoulder. Really it should have been at his waist, but their height difference was a bit difficult to accommodate. The other he used to raise Blitzø’s, holding it lightly. “You should hold your other hand out as well Blitzø.”

The imp did so. As the piano began its upbeat tune, Vassago led them with a series of sashays. It took Blitzø a moment to match his steps with Vassago’s, and once he did, the prince changed their direction. They made a couple of loops, moving faster to keep in time. Vassago added the heel click in their next pass, which nearly knocked them both off balance.

“I thought you said it was simple!” Blitzø snapped when instead of returning to sashaying, Vassago began twirling them around, still keeping a hopping motion.

“It is the easiest dance, unfortunately, cariño.”  

“The fuck!” 

Vassago tried not to laugh at his annoyance. “Let's do a few more passes, then we can try another dance.” They got a decent enough grasp of the galop, but Blitzø made it clear it was not one he enjoyed in the least. Vassago swapped the record, opting to not try a polka since it involved a lot of sashays too. Instead, they did a schottische. 

This seemed to be more agreeable to Blitzø, taking actual steps and making half turns as they spun around the room. At some point the imp managed to take the lead from Vassago, increasing their pace to a sickeningly dizzy speed that made his stomach flip even as he laughed uncontrollably. 

They went until long after the music stopped, Vassago having to plead for a moment of respite that made Blitzø cackle, “Keep up Vass!” He did get to change out a few more records. Trying to recreate group dances with just the two of them proved a bit difficult, but they muddled along well enough.

Vassago played his final record. “This one is a waltz.”

“Careful now, don't want to get too kinky,” Blitzø snickered, giving him that wide playful grin and a wink.

“I promise to keep everything above board, cariño.” Vassago took Blitzø’s hands and, holding them at a comfortable height for Blitzø, he brought their bodies closer, beginning with the simple box step. 

Blitzø followed his lead with confidence, not missing a beat when Vassago pulled his hand up and turned Blitzø under it. When they came back together with the guidance of Vassago’s hand, their bodies pressed closer. The imp seemed entirely unfazed while Vassago felt as if the entire room was heating up with their proximity. 

He was trying to focus on anything other than Blitzø’s chest pressed against his midsection, but only fed his imagination with visions of the man taking the lead once more, pulling Vassago into a low dip, pressing those lips to his beak– “I should wear some heels for the party.” Blitzø’s words burst into Vassago’s thoughts.

“Why is that?”

“So it doesn’t look so weird dancing with a tall fuck like you,” He looked away and muttered, “Stolas is even taller.” 

Vassago could’ve sworn he spied a hint of blush on Blitzø’s cheeks and he found himself suddenly feeling inadequate with his height. “I could change to a flatter shoe as well to help accommodate.” 

Blitzø pulled back from Vassago’s hold when the music ended, stretching his back. “Okay that's enough of the boring fancy dancing.” He looked at his cellphone. “It's still early, but that's alright. Let's go.”

“Go? Where are we going?” Blitzø started to talk away but abruptly stopped, turning to look Vassago up and down.

“Honestly, nowhere with you dressed up like that, you’ll stick out like a virgin at an orgy. Do you own anything leather?” Vassago shook his head. Blitzø sighed and gestured for Vassago to remove his suit jacket “Undo a couple of buttons on the shirt too, try to look like you know what casual dress is.”

“You still haven’t told me where we are going.” Vassago removed his star pendant and did as he was told, letting a bit of feathers puff out of the open collar. Blitzø’s tail wrapped around one of his forearms, tugging him to follow.

Blitzø shot him a devilish smirk, “I’m going to show you some real dancing.” He led Vassago to the van, and the prince didn’t point out that one of them could simply portal over. As they drove, he took a chance to subtly check his reflection in the window, fluffing his plumage a bit more, certainly not trying to emulate a particular owl.

Blitzø drove a fair distance away from Vassago’s palace, parking in a side alley that vaguely smelled of urine. Blitzø was already dashing across the street towards an unmarked door while Vassago hesitated. “Um, are you sure this is where you meant to bring us?” There was nothing around that remotely looked like a dancing establishment. 

“Trust me.” Blitzø opened the door, revealing steps that led down into darkness. Only the glow from their eyes lit up the space. At the bottom was another door. Vassago gasped as he took in the sight behind it. A DJ booth sat at the far end of a dance floor that was jammed back with demons grinding and swaying to the beat. They were lit by blue and purple neon lights that shone down from high above. Vassago spun around, taking it all in, fog swirling around his legs. 

“Look at that, Vassago is speechless for once,” Blitzø teased while bumping his elbow against Vassago’s leg before taking off once more, making the prince chase after him until they stopped at the centre of the dance floor. There was barely any room to move, all the bodies pressed close together. Blitzø was completely unbothered, arms raised as his hips swayed to the beat, the whole crowd gyrating in sync.

Vassago pulled his arms close together, clinging to his midsection trying to make himself small enough to not bump into anyone while watching for any sort of pattern to their movements. He felt Blitzø’s hand touch his forearm. “You good?”

“I just don’t know the steps.” He relaxed a little with the touch.

Blitzø laughed. “There are none. Try closing your eyes, don't think about the other people, and just do whatever feels right!” Vassago closed his eyes, trying to just feel the beat; he did not expect Blitzø to take his hands and attempt a crude mash-up of a galop and waltz within their tight quarters.

When he relaxed into their dance, the imp moved his hands to Vassago’s hips, guiding him to sway them, even making him spin around a few times until he laughed out, eyes opening once more and truly moving to the beat any way he wanted.

He felt slightly awkward until Blitzø shouted, “Hell yeah, great moves Vass!” The music played on and on, he could barely tell when one song ended and another began as they bled together. The longer it went, the more bold Vassago felt, even allowing himself to get closer to Blitzø, who spun around, pressing his back against Vassago as he guided them both to match the crowd's undulation. 

It was during this moment that Vassago could’ve sworn he felt a somewhat familiar tingle of magic in the air, feathers rising slightly on his neck as he experienced the feeling of being watched. He chose to ignore it and continued to dance with Blitzø well into the night.

Chapter Text

Vassago was still receiving guests at the entry to the main ballroom, the time in between new arrivals stretching longer. He could politely join the rest of his guests and stop receiving, anyone arriving at this time would not expect a personal greeting from the prince. 

He stayed for Blitzø though, suspecting he would be a little late and not wanting to capture the full attention of other Goetia in attendance. When Blitzø did finally arrive, Vassago knew it would be impossible for any to take their eyes off him. The imp was wearing a black suit jacket with long coattails, the lapels and shoulders of which were adorned with sharp silver studs, and a bowtie with the skull pendant he always wore fastened to it. His pants were a matching black, very tight fitting, and he had added a couple extra inches to his height with the heeled boots he wore. He was always so stunning to Vassago, who melted at the sight.

“What, am I underdressed?” Blitzø asked when Vassago just stared at him.

“¡Cielos, no! You look very dashing.” Vassago shook his head and bowed to Blitzø, offering his arm. Together they walked down the steps to join the rest of the party, most not noticing at first, heads doing a double take when they realized the imp next to Vassago was not one of the staff.

Blitzø’s grip tightened on his arm, the only thing to betray how uncomfortable he felt in this moment. “It looks great in here, extra fucking sparkly tonight.” His voice was a little high-pitched.

Vassago tried to ease his nerves, “Would you like some refreshments?” He led them to the champagne waterfall, each taking a glass from the table and then heading towards the desserts.

“Why isn’t anyone eating?” Blitzø asked, stuffing a small blueberry mousse cake into his mouth and licking his lips.

Vassago shrugged. “They never really do, mostly drink and gossip.”

“Why even bother offering all of this then?” He gestured over the array of pastries and hors d'oeuvres.

“It’s just what is done. It would be impolite if I did not offer anything.” 

Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Well tonight we are getting through at least half of this.” 

“Don’t fill up too much, cariño, dancing will be difficult,” he teased Blitzø.

“Oh don’t fucking worry, I'll be perfectly fine to spin around with you.” He swiped a few more cakes while speaking. Vassago flushed, turning away from the happy grin on Blitzø’s face, worried he would spill his feelings too soon in the evening. 

When he glanced over the crowd, he spied the grey feathers of Stolas amongst a sea of colourful lords and ladies. The other prince stuck out even more than usual in his dark ensemble, a deep purple blouse, black waistcoat and matching cape pinned out his nape by a gleaming red jasper. In line with Stolas’ whole motif, the inside of the cape shimmered with a red starry sky.

It was quite the contrast to Vassago’s suit; he had chosen a cut that was in fashion — a cream honeycomb suit jacket paired with a yellow bowtie and gold trimmed pocket square. Although it may be to his detriment that he did not stick out as much as Stolas.  

This observation only served to feed into Vassago's annoyance; he had not formally invited Stolas, and yet here he was, drifting about like a gothic apparition intent on haunting his big night. He could not just tell the other prince to leave now that he had arrived, and truthfully he could not have expected the event would have been kept secret from Stolas either. He just did not want him here, pulling Blitzø’s attention away from Vassago. Not tonight.

Thankfully, Blitzø had yet to see Stolas. “You must try this chilli cheese dip, I had it whipped up specially for you.” Vassago maneuvered them around the table, getting Stolas out of Blitzø’s potential line of sight.

If his luck continued, then someone would take up Stolas’ attention until the opening dance, which Vassago would have with Blitzø. His heart was racing with excitement and fear; tonight was the night, even with Stolas here.

He mingled with a few nearby people who approached him and Blitzø, and Vassago made introductions each time. Most of the nobles actually looked concerned for the prince, often whispering when they stepped away, at least one blatantly asking if was feeling unwell. He let the slights go without comment. Since Vassago should be making rounds as the host, it was a bit rude of him, but he wanted to stay with Blitzø.

“So this is a royal ball… you willingly go to these? Honestly I think you had more fun at the club.” Blitzø finished his glass, peering up at Vassago with an oddly pitying look in his eyes.

“Sí, these are always a bit stuffy. You know, I really did have a fun time that night…” He took a deep breath. “In fact, I always have a fun time when we are together.”

Blitzø chuckled, “Yeah, me too, Vass.” He turned his gaze upwards to the glass ceiling of the ballroom, seeming to continue speaking to himself. “Who would’ve fucking expected that.”

Vassago glanced towards the piano quartet. They were ready to begin, waiting for the signal. “Please excuse me for a moment, will you?” 

Blitzø nodded him off, and Vassago stepped towards the centre of the room. Already guests were clearing the space, knowing the evening was about to truly start. “I would like to thank you all for attending my humble gathering tonight. Mi casa es su casa. I have a very special guest tonight.” Vassago looked at Blitzø, dozens of glowing Goetian eyes turned to take in the imp. “Blitzø, cariño, would you care to dance with me?”

He gave Vassago a shaky smile as the prince held out a hand, waiting for him to approach. “Uh… yeah.” Blitzø hastened across the floor, taking Vassago’s hand,  looking at all the people staring at him.

Vassago’s other hand brushed across Blitzø’s cheek, tilting up his chin. “Don’t think about everyone else, just look at me.” He watched the imp nervously gulp in air. They came together close as the soft music of a less traditional waltz began. 

Blitzø let Vassago lead them in their dance. Whenever he glanced down at his feet to watch his steps, Vassago would tut, “You are doing perfectly, cariño.” As the music played on, getting closer to the end, his heart raced wildly. He was about to finally show Blitzø how he truly felt, about to put his whole heart into this display.

When the music faded off, Vassago stopped his movements. “Blitzø,” he whispered before leaning down, a hand returning once more to Blitzø’s cheek. He let his eyes slide closed as he pressed his beak to Blitzø’s lips, a silent plea in his thoughts for Blitzø to understand and return his feelings.

He ignored the murmurs that broke out amongst the guests, instead focusing on the feeling of those soft lips. He wanted them to move against his own to match his desire. When they did not, Vassago turned his head, pressing deeper into the kiss, about to spread his beak to trace his tongue along Blitzø’s lips and coax him into reciprocating.

He was abruptly pulled away from Blitzø. As he was spun around, he felt the sharp slap across his face before he fully registered someone was even gripping him. One hand raised to cup the burning cheek as Vassago looked into the eyes of Stolas, tears about to spill from them. He had not seen so much anguish and betrayal on anyone before. Stolas blinked, his expression shifting to dawning surprise.

art by: Doria

“I– my apologies, Prince Vassago.” Stolas turned away to run off, opening a portal to make a quicker escape. 

“Stolas wait!” Blitzø immediately chased after him. Vassago stepped out to follow, his heart breaking already. He just wanted Blitzø to see him, to hear him, to love him. Blitzø slipped through the portal before it closed, not even sparing a look back at Vassago.

 He wanted to send everyone home, knowing it wouldn’t matter if they stayed or left. He would feel this utter loneliness regardless. He was a fool to ever think he would win Blitzø’s heart, that either one of the two would let go of the other.

“Honestly, good riddance.” A voice drawled next to Vassago. “Those fools were made for each other. Best forget about them.”

He glanced to see Andrealphus next to him, holding out a glass of champagne to the prince. Vassago’s magic swirled around the corners of his vision, trying to show him once more that future he tried to ignore for years. Despite his distaste for the Marquis, he reluctantly accepted the glass.

As Vassago tipped back his drink, the music began once more, and nobles took to the floor. He would be quite the talk of interest in the days to follow, at least until someone else made a faux pas and the nobility would all forget this night. A night that Vassago knew would be etched into his heart for a lifetime. “I suppose the heart was made to be broken.” 

“Stolas stop, it's not what you think!” Blitzø had chased after the owl, nearly losing the spade of his tail with the portal shut tight behind him. They had let out to some side street deeper in the city, far from all the palaces.

“Oh? I have four eyes Blitzø, I assure you my vision is perfect. I can clearly see what is going on between you and Vassago.” Stolas strode forward, not looking back. His hands were raised up to wipe at his eyes furiously, “How could you–” he started to bite out.

Anger flared inside of Blitzø. He growled, “Just a reminder you kissed some fucking rando at a party dedicated to hating me !” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to get mad at Stolas again, to push him away again.

“I was drunk and trying to forget about you for one fucking second. Not that it even matters to you, but I barely remember it or that whole idiotic party. Go yell at someone else.” Stolas did turn his head back slightly, hurt on his face once more. “Or better yet, go back to your new suitor.”

“Please, just listen to me, Stolas.” This was spiraling out of control. He had been planning to call the whole dumb lie with Vassago off, and would have sooner if he had known Vass’ plan for tonight. It hadn’t been working anyway, and now things were so much worse than before. He shouldn’t have even made that stupid list.

“I just wanted to move on, but you,” now Stolas turned to Blitzø, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “–had to torment me by throwing in my face your new relationship with your latest prince. While I was never good enough for you! I was just some pompous rich asshole. Vassago must be something very special indeed.”

“Are you kidding?! What have I been doing since that fucking night, Stols? A bunch of dumb rom-com shit to get you to even speak to me, to look at me, everything was for you!” He was still shouting, as if the louder he was the clearer his message would be to Stolas.

“You dated another man. For me . Really, how stupid do you think I am?!” Stolas sneered at him, tossing his hands up at the ludicrosity.  

“I’m not actually dating Vassago, we are just friends.”

“Oh, do you stick your tongue down all your friends' throats?” 

“He was helping me, we pretended to be dating–” All four of Stolas’ eyes narrowed, a scowl across his face as he listened. “–to make you jealous.” Blitzø tried to step closer to Stolas.

 Stolas puts his talons into his head feathers, trying to take a calming breath, but letting out a frustrated yell. “So, you did do this to hurt me on purpose?”

“It's romantic! You said you wanted a romance like in the movies.” Blitzø got closer again, he was so close to reaching out. Every part of his body wanted to just touch Stolas, to take his hand into his own. Even as the shitty low part of his mind told him he failed again, that he should give up and stop ruining Stolas’ life.

“Blitzø,” Stolas bemoaned, “the people who pretend to date in those films are the ones who end up together.”

“Well, fuck. I didn’t know that. It sounded like a good idea.” Stolas pulled his arms tight around his waist, giving his head a shake. Blitzø knew he was losing him again, so before he could turn away once more the imp continued, “Okay, it was a terrible plan, but I did that other stuff too. You have to believe me, Stolas. I was trying for you.”

“Waking me up at 3 am, injuring my staff, and scaring my child are not romantic acts, Blitzø–” Stolas stepped back.

“I know, that's just how those movies go in the real world, Stolas.” 

Stolas murmured, “Well, thank you for yet another important lesson, Blitzø.” 

“Please, let me try one more thing, one last chance to prove that this whole time it meant something to me. That I was just trying to… get you to… look my way.” Stolas was looking at him now, the smallest white pupils appearing in the crimson depths of his eyes, shuddering as he heard those words. Blitzø grabbed the prince's arm, dragging him a few feet over to a nearby bus stop. “Don’t portal home, okay?”

Stolas opened his beak to say something, but Blitzø dashed away from him before he could. He rounded a building coroner, stopping in the alley out of sight of Stolas. He peeked once to see the owl standing there, gaze cast down at the ground, his hand lighting up in magic but no portal opening. 

Blitzø needed him to stay not just because he wanted to prove to Stolas his intentions, and his desire to pursue something with the prince. But to also know that Stolas wanted it too. If the owl left, Blitzø wouldn’t chase after him again. But if chose to stay right now, Blitzø would never stop trying to bring them back together.

Stolas’ magic dissipated and Blitzø’s heart soared higher than it had in years. Headlights filled the street as a city bus finally approached. Still keeping out of sight, Blitzø watched it pull to a stop in front of Stolas, the door opening. 

“Stolas! Don’t get on that train, it’s going to London and I cannot be without you!” Blitzø came running out, shouting the words Stolas had wanted to hear. The owl turned, lips quivering as they pulled into a smile, eyes glowing bright with surprise. Stolas dropped to his knees when Blitzø got close, throwing himself into waiting arms. “I care, you know, if you stay or go. I do see you, I want to hold you and when I look at you I know you're the only one I want.” 

Stolas sobbed, holding him so tight that Blitzø vaguely worried he may get crushed. “I fucking missed you so much, Blitzø. I loathed trying to hate you.” 

He pulled back slightly, giving Blitzø a chance to wipe away some tears on both their faces. “I never thought in a million years you would want me, out of all the demons in hell, for anything more than a good lay.” A horn blared from the bus, interrupting them momentarily. Blitzø glared at it, ready to cuss the driver out before he peeled away, but Stolas’ soft voice brought his focus back. 

“I never should have made that deal with you Blitzø, it was so wrong. I’m so sorry that I made you feel that way. I just didn’t want to lose you, so I tried to chain you to me. I… really thought you would never see me as anything but some monster.”

“You’re not a monster to me.” Blitzø pressed his forehead to Stolas’. “I have some hang-ups around relationships, around anyone getting too close. I told myself it didn’t bother me to hurt them, but I couldn't do it again. Not with you.”

“Even though I’m a pompous rich asshole?” Stolas’ voice was jesting, but Blitzø still heard the pain laced within the words.

“Yeah, but at least you're one of the nice ones.” Blitzø gave him a soft smile and Stolas hooted out a little laugh. “You asked me to stay before, do you still want that?”

“Always, Blitzø. I will always want you.” 

“Then how about we go on a date sometime? Get to really know each other again.” Blitzø knew there would be hurdles for them to overcome on both their parts. They would have to confront their class difference, how they viewed each other's peers, and how they had been scarred by their pasts. This seemed like a good starting point though.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” Stolas smiled at him, talons caressed the side of Blitzø’s face, the touch feeling so right. He had not felt any touch this right in so long. Even if he knew they would have to take it slower this time, he gave into the building moment, cupping Stolas’ perfectly feathered cheeks and pressing a kiss to his beak.

Stolas returned it, and their lips parted slightly, but the kiss remained soft, unrushed and perfect. Thunder cracked out as a sudden downpour of rain fell onto them. Blitzø felt Stolas smiling against his lips. He pulled back, and Stolas looked up at the rain giggling softly. Blitzø just watched him as his heart swelled with love for the owl. “Guess you got your rom-com after all, Stolas.”

art by: glitzbot