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madefate · 10 months ago

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Having something helpful to do - fussing with the room, finding a way for Stolas to stretch out, guarding the door - helps to ease the electric tension that sparkles under his skin. But the moment Blitz is in the bed with nothing between them except their raw emotion and Stolas' injuries, the nerves return. He's searching Stolas' face for any sign of discomfort, pain, something going wrong - picking up on every sound and watching with a carefully narrowed gaze as Stolas finally stretches his only slightly less battered leg out. It's clear, now, how much he'd been curled up, and Blitz entertains the anger that would drive him to correct the error with his fist in someone's face.

They knew that Stolas was coming in - fuck, he'd been in surgery for what was probably hours, even by Blitz's screwed up sense of time passing today. That was plenty of time to do something to make sure he was comfortable - or that there was a fucking actual guard at the door, or to banish the cameras and reporters from the hospital grounds entirely. He thinks for a moment about what Stolas had said without precisely saying it - that he was lonely.

Blitz knows very well the feeling when the world grows more and more crowded around you, and you feel so much smaller and useless in turn. There's no loneliness that hits quite as hard as the kind when you're surrounded by people who don't give a shit.

For a long time, Blitz chased that loneliness. He looked for bottles, bars where you could stay anonymous, bodies to press against. He'd even made money for it - for delivering a fantasy that would vanish in the morning light, or for doing a job that no one would deign to do themselves because they didn't want to get their hands dirty. He'd made himself repulsive for a living, and a way to survive.

But now he acutely remembers that party he'd crashed what feels like a lifetime ago, but was honestly barely a year ago - he hadn't been paying particular attention to anything but the possibility of getting himself beheaded royal-style, but now that he brings the memory back - knowing what he knows now - he distinctly remembers Stolas standing alone. A full, glittering party full of demons who'd given him no end of scathing looks as security dragged him through, and Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia had stood alone.

Honestly, Blitz kind of wants to strangle all those judgy fucks.

There's probably so much more he doesn't know about, and now that he's opened the door to Stolas' world, allowed himself to cross the boundary between colleague and more, Blitz realizes that he wants to learn more. He wants all the stories - he wants to wring anyone's neck who made Stolas feel as if he were less than.

Blitz smiles ruefully at Stolas' honest admission. He's sure that the prince is hiding much more behind those soft, careful words, but even this small show of trust - it feels infinitely fragile in his hands.

❝ Hey, hey - careful - don't undo all that hard surgery work - ❞ Blitz is tense as stone as Stolas moves - moves to hold him, what a sentimental, silly fuck, he thinks fondly. When he realizes what's happening, Blitz takes over so the bird doesn't accidentally injure himself more in an effort to get closer. And, sure, his stomach is doing flips with the knowledge that Stolas' desire to be close to him, physically, all this time was ... genuine? Real? Not part of the sex game?

With careful, practiced movements, Blitz moves an arm under Stolas' neck, making sure his head is propped on the pillows (shitty as they are) and pulls him so, so gently towards his chest, tucking him under his chin. This close, Blitz regrets not washing up more thoroughly, even if he's confident his dependable leather jacket will keep the blood at bay, but the second they're together, his entire body relaxes.

Oh. He's safe.

Honestly, he doesn't know who he's even thinking about - Stolas, or himself. Maybe both of them. For a second, his arms tremble with the phantom weight of when holding someone like this used to be routine. When he could give his affection and protection and not worry that he'd ruin someone entirely.

Somehow, miraculously, Blitz is allowed to have this.

Without realizing he's started, Blitz purrs. It's instinctual, a rumble that starts deep, behind his ribs, and curls out of him until his chest buzzes with it. The universe may not have been generous enough to give Imps magic or inherent power, but he does have this - something that can take the edge off the pain, encourage sleep. Little things that mean a lot in a hard life.

He smiles gently. ❝ Get some more sleep, Stols. I'm not goin' anywhere. ❞ If he can, Blitz will keep himself awake as long as he can to watch the door - to keep them safe.

There is part of him that is still terrified that if he opens up, if he shares all of the emotions he's been bottling up inside him, been trying to ignore (and look how well that had turned out), that Blitz will see the same things his father had told him so often. That he's weak, useless, an idiot. Because even though he knows that Blitz doesn't think any of those things, especially since he'd just said otherwise…, that's still his first reaction to hearing any sort of compliment. They've been so rare in his life, and he's so longed to hear someone tell him any one of the things that Blitz just had that he's….a little emotional at just how calmly, how casually Blitz had said everything.

He swallows hard, eyes focusing on Blitz once more as he speaks, the affection in his voice something Stolas is acutely aware of, something that chokes him up once more. And what he says draws a sound that's half-laugh, half-sob from the owl. It's still hard for him to fathom how Blitz sees him that way, but it shifts something within him, and he's simultaneously that little boy again, desperately looking for approval from his new friend, along with the fully grown demon, aching for love, for affection…..and finally receiving all of it, and from someone whose opinion he values….so much.

Stolas takes a deep, shaky breath, offering Blitz a smile. He knows he's tearing up, but right now, he doesn't care; he's been emotional this whole time, and it doesn't look like that's going to change any time soon. It's going to take more than just one time hearing what Blitz thought of him, and Stolas will have to do some work on his own, but with actual support…., the idea that he might actually like himself at some point….doesn't seem so far-fetched.

He hadn't expected his own words to affect Blitz so much, but he'd meant it. Blitz deserved the world, and Stolas would do everything he could to give it to him. Which meant he needed to call Asmodeus as soon as he could, to reschedule their appointment. He wasn't going to be out of here in three days (how much time had passed since that meeting at The Richest Cup, anyway?), and he needed to talk to the Sin now more than ever.

Because this was new, it was new and it was fragile, and Stolas wanted them to be able to do it right. And that meant that he needed to make sure Blitz didn't have to worry about what would happen to his business, if things between them didn't work out. He wasn't planning for things not to work out, of course, but…., he didn't want even the possibility that that could be an obstacle between them. Stolas would meet with Asmodeus, and if that didn't work out…., well, he was still a prince. He would find some way to get Blitz a way to the human world that didn't rely on him.

Not that he wouldn't help if he wanted or needed it, but…., it was important. This arrangement, though it had allowed them to meet, had also stood in their way. And to move forward…., they needed a fresh start. No strings, no expectations, just…..the two of them. Trying to figure things out together.

Blitz shifts to help him put his arm back down, making sure he's as comfortable as possible, even as he stammers out a response, saying again that he didn't deserve that, that it was enough that Stolas wanted to stay, wanted him. And his heart aches for Blitz; he knows what that feels like, after all, and maybe one day they'd believe they were worth more than they did now.

For a moment, he thinks that Blitz is about to insist that he rest, and that that will be it, but instead he just lets out a curse. Stolas just watches him for another moment, even as he seems to come to a decision.

The owl blinks as Blitz gives his hand a squeeze then a pat so he can shift to stand. His gaze follows the other as he bustles around the room, moving the chairs in the room to the end of the bed, piling cushions on top of them to offer a makeshift extension to the foot of it.

Stolas understands instantly when Blitz grins over at him, and he inhales another shaky, breath, swallowing hard around the lump of emotions in his throat.

Mindful of where the equipment is hooked up to him, he shifts, letting out a soft hiss of pain as his stiff joints extend for the first time since he'd been admitted to the hospital, something that wouldn't have been possible without Blitz's help.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to focus on anything but the pain. It had been easier, when he was listening to Blitz, when he was so tuned into what he was saying, to trying to offer what comfort he could to him that it's almost a shock when the full strength of it washes back over him.

They'd given him painkillers for during the surgery, but those had long since worn off by now. The blood in the transfusion bag had been steadily working its way into his system as they'd talked, and he vaguely realizes that someone will likely be in to check on him at some point, but they'll deal with that when it happens. Right now…., all he wants to do is curl up on this bed with Blitz and fall asleep.

It had been…..one hell of a day, that was for sure. But even though it had started out as probably the worst day of his life, even though he was still in a lot of pain, he was….hopeful. It would be a lot easier to pus through all of this with Blitz by his side, the promise of a new start before them.

He watches Blitz climb up onto the bed, and he can't help the little smile on his face. This will be the first time they've shared a bed in months…, and the idea of just falling asleep next to Blitz, without any expectation or obligation makes his heart skip a beat. He'd missed him so much…, and while these weren't exactly ideal circumstances, being close to Blitz lets him actually start to relax.

Now that he's not bent practically double to stay on the bed, he can more comfortably lay on his side, leaving plenty of room for Blitz. It's certainly not his bed back in the palace, but…, he might actually be able to sleep now, and he hopes Blitz will be able to, as well.

He offers him a soft smile as Blitz checks in on him yet again, the way he always seemed to be doing.

"No," he says truthfully, but he's still smiling. "But I will be." Thanks to Blitz…, he was going to be all right. And maybe, for the first time in his life…., maybe he'd be more than just okay.

Stolas shifts a little, wrapping his free arm around Blitz, careful of the IV still attached to him, ignoring his body's protests. He needed to be touching him, at least a little bit; he was so starved for touch and affection that he felt like he might be crushed under the weight of his desperation.

"Nap with me?" he murmurs, finally feeling the full force of everything that had happened. He'd been wide awake, ready to talk everything through, but now that he's more comfortable, now that he can hear Blitz's heartbeat next to his…., he's utterly exhausted.

#hh tw #( ic. )#( blitz. )#helldustedstories #au. and i'm so ready to wake up now #kicks down the door #rushes in #drops paperwork on the desk #i have TROPES and EMOTIONS #HOT off the presses

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