Chapter Text
Good Lucifer, today has been stressful.
Stolas’ feet felt twenty pounds heavier as he dragged them along the hard cement flooring of their apartment building's stairwell. Step by step he climbs, because of course the dingy elevator was down. The elevator in the palace up to the second and third floors was never down, yet this one seemed to be operational perhaps forty percent of the time.
His shoulders slouch forward and his eyes fight to close, but he was so close to home. Hopefully Blitzo wouldn’t be too mad at him, and he would be able to collapse onto the couch.
None of the hecticness of the day had been planned. Around nine AM, Blitz, Millie, Moxxie and Loona all left for the day's missions. Stolas bid them goodbye with a wave and well-wishes and then sat politely, hands crossed in his lap, until the portal had zipped closed and any buzzes of energy had left the room.
Then, the front left drawer of the secretary’s desk was pulled open, and Stolas’ journal was pulled from the confines. With his nicest pen, he wrote a note on a page, carefully tore it out, and then collected his things into the tote Blitz bought him. He left the office, and on the way out, the note was taped to the door.
“Closed 9am - 2pm today; Email [email protected] with any inquiries. Sorry for the inconvenience!!”
The first stop on his rebellious outing was a gun parlor in downtown Pride. The bustle of the city was overwhelming, and Stolas missed having Blitzo at his side to shove people away and swear at when they got too close. Instead he just held his bag close and hoped he would go home with most of what he came with.
The weaponry sold at the parlor is all of fantastic quality and beautifully crafted, but Stolas worried a work-oriented gift was tacky and impersonal, so he left without purchasing anything.
The next stop on his list was a figurine shop. He walked past a sex shop on the way and pointedly kept his eyes downturned.
Once again, the shop had beautiful pieces, but he’s reluctant to get anything. He knows the horse memorabilia and figurines that Blitzo has on display in the apartment, but what if more exist that he hasn’t seen, stored away somewhere? What if he got Blitz something he already has?
At the very least, before he left, he bought a small glass horse, no bigger than his pinky, that he was certain he hadn’t seen before.
More stores in the strip mall were visited, and few offered him anything of value. It is so important to Stolas that this gift is right. Blitzo has been letting him crash on his couch for over two months now, he can’t get him just anything .
He ends up leaving that plaza and taking the bus to another. And then another, and then, for good measure, one more.
In the end, an unprecedented amount of time had passed, and he had a sort of conglomeration of items. All of them sat neatly folded into one bag - a nice new leather jacket (thrifted) and a high-end cologne (second-hand), a shined and complex pocket knife, the glass horse, and a jumbo-sized bottle of Blitz’s favorite horn oil.
When he left the mall, his final stop, it had grown dark outside, and it hit him how long he’d really been out. One glance at his phone told him it was nearly six pm-
Oh. His phone had died.
It froze, blinked black for a moment, then fully powered off. Stolas sighed, glanced around himself, and found the nearest bus stop, near the entrance of the mall. With his hands folded in his lap and nothing to fiddle with, he waited, right beside an older couple.
The two imps were talking quietly when he approached, but after he sat, they became quiet. A quick glance in their direction confirms that they’re glaring at him. Their bus arrived first, and when they rose to board, the woman conveniently tripped over a small - invisible - pebble along the sidewalk, and her coffee went flying - right into Stolas’ soft baby blue sweater.
Thankfully, the drink wasn’t hot, but the woman’s voice was certainly cold when she said, “Whoops. Sorry.”, scoffed at him, and then boarded the bus with her glaring husband.
Stolas just checked the gifts to make sure none of them were wet before boarding his bus, which, thankfully, pulled up only a moment or two later.
He bristles now when he looks down at the bag, slung over his elbow now and dragging down each step he takes. All of the gifts are nice, sure, but none of them feel specific enough to be heartfelt. There’s something better he could’ve gotten, surely - something to really show Blitz that he knows him, that he’s thankful. My goodness, the excursion took all day, and this is what he has to show for it?
He hopes Blitzo isn’t too mad at him for leaving the office unattended for as long as he did, but he would certainly understand if the imp was. Blitzo had hired him to help the company, and he goes and disappears instead of being a worthy employee…
He reaches their floor and lets out a soft sigh as the warm door of Blitzo’s apartment comes into view. Yelling echoes down the hallway, and Stolas’ steps pause with trepidation. He holds his breath.
Fuck. Blitzo is very, very cross with him. He can’t make out the exact words, but the tone is laden with intense emotions. He deserves it, he knows, but he- he-
He puts his shoulders back and braces himself. Today escaped him, and it was his fault.
“-it. I’m going- Mox, I swear if you try to fucking stop me- fuck you guys!”
Stolas reaches his hand towards the door handle, takes in a deep breath, and poises his key at the lock. Right as he inserts it, the door flies open, taking the key handle right from his hands and revealing and a disheveled, panicked Blitzo in the doorway. For a few moments his head is turned around, but when it swivels forward, his eyes immediately dart upwards to take in Stolas’ face. He stares for one moment before his eyes well up with big, fat tears.
“Stols!” He blubbers, and the tears begin falling down his face. Oh, my. Said bird barely has time to put his bag of gifts down on the floor before his arms are full of blubbering imp, snot staining his sweater further. “Are you okay?! Where were you!! Are you hurt?!?! Fuck, I was so- fucking worried-”
The imp leans away from his body just as fast as he connected with it, raking his eyes up and down the bird to take in his appearance. His eyes narrow in on the damp, dark stain on the owl’s sweater and in the feathers of his chest. “Did someone- fuckin’ hurt you?! Oh, I swear to Satan, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“
Stolas leans back, brain still reeling as he processes his answer. What sort of lie could he possibly come up with for this? “I’m terribly sorry, darling, I-I was…helping a client?” Ugh, what?!
Blitzo stared at him with much of the same expression. “Out in Pride?!?!”
The ex-prince allows himself to wince, leaning down to pick up the bag in a way that puts his body between it and Blitzo, shielding the contents. His own cardigan, wet and stained brown with coffee, has been rolled up and placed on top. “He-He demanded I come with him to the weapons shop, to give my input on what sort of method of killing may be the best for his Asshole. He sort of ended up dragging me all over town, and now it’s- quite late.” That’s not…the biggest lie, right? Right? As a last-ditch thought, the owl refers to the front of his sweater. “This was- just a couple, at the bus stop. Not connected to the client at all.”
Blitzo just blinks at him and Stolas prepares himself for more yelling by setting his shoulders slightly back. He shuffles, still standing in the front doorway, and that seems to snap Blitzo out of it, because he stands aside and ushers him in. “Fuck- what am I doing, get inside. Let me dry you off.”
Loona, Moxxie, and Mildred all sit inside, peering towards the door from their respective sitting places within the apartment. Stolas gives them a shy wave and says, “My apologies, everyone - I didn’t mean to worry everyone with my absence.” The idea feels so foreign on his tongue.
Still, Millie just smiles at him and says in that drawl Stolas has come to find extremely comforting, “We’re just happy you’re okay, sweetie.”
“I do hope not many clients were disgruntled, in my absence.”
“Oh, no.” Moxxie chimes, “We barely get any clients in on Mondays. Blitzo was just really panicking about you .”
“That was- Stolas, you shouldn’t have done that.” Blitzo returns from where he has scurried off to - the bathroom - with a towel draped over his arm. His hands find Stolas’ and he leads him over to the couch just like he did the first night after the trial, guiding him into sitting down. Once the bird is nice and comfortable, the towel is removed from Blitzo’s forearm and pressed against the others chest, where the coffee soaks into his sweater. Stolas has the mind to blush, but Blitzo seems too focused on his task to notice. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you stranger fucking danger? What if they’d killed you! You’re not- you don’t- things are different now!“
Blitzo cut himself off the moment he realized what he was saying but the impact was too late; Stolas knew what he was implying. Still, he smiles at the others all the same. “I am fine, Blitzo - just a long day.”
“‘Fine’ my ass!” Blitzo snaps back, but continues scrubbing dutifully at the feathers on his owls chest. His eyes flit over to the paper bag that Stolas has tried to shove out of view, under the table, but his leg in front of it isn’t enough to hide it. “What’d’ya have there?”
“Oh-Oh, I…” Shit, fuck, shit! - “ it’s-uhm-“
“Oh.” Loona steps forward, leaning down and picking up the bag high above where Blitzo could see. “Is this what I asked you to pick up? Thanks, man.”
Stolas blinks at her once, and she stares back with a dead expression before he snaps back into it and says, “Oh, yes! Uhm- no worries at all, dearest.”
Blitzo frowns. “Looney! If you needed something picked up, I could’ve!” He gives her big, watery eyes. “Do you not trust me?!”
“Ugh, fuck off.” Loona presses a hand to his forehead and shoves him backwards when he starts getting a little too close. “‘t was easier. I’m going to my room, you guys can do whatever it is you freaks do in here.”
“That’s our queue to leave, too!” Millie grabs her husband's arm as he says, “Yep, heading out!”
Before Blitzo or Stolas can even say goodbye, the doors click closed behind both the couple and Blitzo’s daughter, leaving the two in the living room, completely alone.
Stolas’ mouth feels dry again. Being alone with Blitzo hasn’t gotten much easier, especially since he’s been mildly more lucid lately, and able to process the embarrassment of it all. Thankfully, the imp just continues to clean his sweater, switching to a new part of the rag once the corner he was using became discolored with coffee.
Eventually, he sits back, looks at his works, and, by the look of his flicking tail and scrunched eyebrows, is less than satisfied with his work.
“Just take it off.” He waves, turning away. “Uhm…here.”
An oversized sweatshirt that Blitzo must swim in is thrown at Stolas’ lap, and he physically fights the need to outwardly flinch at the sight of something traveling towards him, controlling it to just the wincing of his eyes. His gaze flutters back up just in time to catch Blitzo, turning around to give him privacy, and, if Stolas was truly insane, he would think that was a light blush dusting his darlings’ cheeks.
Stolas smiles to himself as Blitzo awkwardly clears his throat, still turned away. “I was really worried, Stols. Don’t do that shit to me.”
“My apologies, darling - I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m afraid I’m just…not used to having someone worry when I’ll return home, or how I’m doing when I’m not around them.”
“Well.” Blitzo’s tail flicks again. “I fucking care.”