#Sorry for any typos ajdjsk

[blitzwhore]

And concerning the "no matter what in this world i could give" line from LMW. Stolas has literally NOTHING left to give now, and NOW is the time Blitz starts letting himself love Stolas.

“I’m sorry,” Stolas murmurs one night as Blitzø sets a bowl of soup in front of him at the table. “I… I don’t know how I can ever repay you for taking me in. For everything you’re doing for me. I have nothing left to give. I’m… I’m really sorry, Blitzø.”

“What—” Blitzø blinks, setting his own bowl at his side of the table and watching Stolas carefully. “Stolas, what in hell makes you think you have to repay me?”

Stolas just shrugs, averting his gaze when Blitzø sits down in front of him.

But Blitzø doesn’t let it slide, instead stretching out a leg to rub his foot against Stolas’.

“Hey,” he says lowly, and waits until Stolas chances a glance up at him to add, “I’m glad to have you here. You know that, right?”

Stolas’ eyes widen a bit, so easy to read now that his pupils are always visible.

When Stolas doesn't say anything, Blitzø gulps. His voice breaks just slightly when he says a small, “I… I’ve really missed you. Since… You know.” He bites his lip. “I really thought I’d lost you. And then at court… When I realized what you were doing—realized I hadn’t lost you, but I was about to, I…”

And then he can’t continue, suddenly choked up by unexpected tears.

He breathes past the worst of it, but a single tear slips out as he softly admits that, “I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

“You… missed me?” Stolas asks, voice so low, as if he barely dares to believe what he’s just heard.

“So fucking much,” Blitzø says with a little, choked-up laugh. “You have no idea.” He takes a sip of his soup, just on the edge of being too hot to drink. “All those things you said at the party… I don’t know if you even remember, you were wasted as shit, but…”

Stolas nods slightly. “I… have some recollection of it, yes.” He blushes. “Sorry about that. I must’ve been quite the unbecoming sight.”

“No, I—” Blitzø sighs. Breathes in slowly, and says what he’s been too afraid to say for far too long. “Stolas, I care. I care if you stay or go.” He bites his lip. “You said you wanted someone to look at you, a-and think—you’re the only one I want. And I couldn’t help but look at you and feel… Well.” He doesn’t try to hold back the sheepish smile that tugs at his lips. “That.”

He’s pretty sure Stolas is about to cry, his hand shaking slightly where it’s resting on the table by his spoon.

“I—” Stolas’ voice breaks. He tries again, voice tiny. “I didn’t mean just anyone when I… said those things.”

And then he’s looking Blitzø right in the eyes, his ankle pressing against Blitzø’s with a nervous urgency, like he needs Blitzø to understand.

And he does understand. He hadn’t then, but he does now.

He reaches out and rests his hand on top of Stolas’, because it won’t stop shaking and he really needs Stolas to know everything is okay.

“I know,” he says softly as Stolas twines their fingers together. “And I want to be with you. And hold you. And do all those things you mentioned. I... I wanted to hold you that night too, but I just—I was so sure you’d be better off without me,” he softly admits.

“Never,” Stolas says, no trace of hesitation in his voice. “I could never be better off without you.”

And then they’re both smiling, and Blitzø is pretty sure that’s another tear sliding down his cheek. But it’s okay, because Stolas is tearing up, too, and maybe that’s just what they both need. A little, cathartic cry and some warm soup to go with it.

"The feeling is mutual, birdie," Blitzø murmurs, then wipes the wetness from his cheek. He gives Stolas’ hand a squeeze before letting go. “Now come on, eat. Don’t want your soup to go cold.”

Stolas takes a sip, and Blitzø does the same, warmth spreading in his chest like soft balm. A warmth that has just as much to do with the soup as it does with Stolas. With his smile, his ruffled feathers; with the vulnerability and the love in his eyes. And with the way their ankles stay pressed together under the table as they eat in silence, soft but firm, tentative yet certain.

They've got each other now.

No matter what comes their way, they're going to be okay.

(On AO3)