Chapter Text
Stolas gives himself several minutes in the meeting room of the hotel to calm his racing heart after Blitzø leaves before he ventures out into the lobby. He offers the front desk worker a polite nod and calmly, with great dignity, goes upstairs and to his room.
As soon as he closes the door behind him, he drops back against it, one hand rising to brush against his beak. He’s lightheaded, and he finally allows the wide smile to break out across his face.
His first kiss.
And what a first kiss. He really hadn’t had any expectations, but if he had, he’s sure Blitzø would have blown right past them. It had felt natural, despite it being his first time. Despite needing to work out the logistics of lips. Stolas could feel himself getting lost in him - the softness of his lips, the steady weight of his hands on his shoulders, the warmth of his skin.
And Blitzø had seemed to enjoy it too! He’d even implied…Stolas can feel his cheeks heating just from the thought.
He had been worried that with them being different species Blitzø may not find him as attractive as he found the imp. But that didn’t seem to be the case.
He begins to pace across his room, mind racing. He’d been concerned when Blitzø had been so late, but he probably was just nervous. Stolas has been filled with frenetic energy ever since their eyes had met on stage. It only made sense that Blitzø would be, too. What was important was that he’d come, and yes it had been a little awkward. But that was to be expected! In books and films it never seemed to be, but that was fiction, right? It made sense that they were both a little awkward, especially considering their…well. Differences in social standing.
Almost as if summoned, he feels his phone begin to vibrate. He tugs it out and frowns.
His father is calling.
He never calls. In fact they’ve not even spoken since Stolas had agreed to his marriage plan two years ago. His talons hover over the screen. He doesn’t want to answer. He’s happy. Terrified, but happy, and talking to his father will ruin it. He has a special talent for making Stolas feel small and ridiculous, and he doesn’t want to feel bad about this.
He’ll need to talk with him. He knows that. But he wants this to be just his for a little while longer.
He sets his phone face down on the bedside table.
Later. He can deal with his father and the rest of the Goetia later.
He has other things to think about, for now. Like the things he’s already learned about his soulmate. Like the way his eyes lit up when he’d started talking about his darling horse story. Like the excitement he’d expressed at the idea of meeting Earth horses.
What is he going to wear tomorrow? Where is he going to take them? Would a small stable be better, or something more open? Blitzø surely doesn’t have a human disguise, so it needs to be somewhere they have some privacy. He needs to do some research. He has so much to figure out before 10:00 am.
So. He buckles down and gets to work.
The next morning, Stolas can’t figure out what to do with himself. Does he wait in his hotel room? In the lobby? Outside of the hotel? He realizes he doesn’t have the imp’s phone number and has to take a few minutes to fight back the panic building in his chest. Because what if Blitzø doesn’t come? What if he’s changed his mind? Or what if something happens and he can’t get here, but Stolas has no way to contact him?
In the end, he decides to wait in the hotel lobby. The woman behind the front desk stands stiff and tall, a painfully ingenuine smile on her face. But what can he do? It will look foolish to wait outside, right?
He sits on the small sofa, hands crossed in his lap, and waits. The silence is incredibly loud. He glances at the woman at the desk and smiles. Her painful smile widens. He can hear a clock ticking - he’s fifteen minutes early. “So,” he says. The woman jumps. “Did you go to the festival?”
“Oh,” she squeaks. “No. I’m not a big fan of it.” Her eyes widen. “Not that it’s not wonderful. Your cursing is just great. And so appreciated,” she says, voice rising. “I’ve just seen it many times growing up here. So I don’t go anymore!”
Stolas nods. “Of course, that makes complete sense. And not everyone is interested in that type of sporting activity.” He fights to keep his knees from bouncing. Fourteen minutes until Blitzø arrives. He hopes he’s not late this time.
“Oh, yes,” she agrees. Stolas watches as her eyes slide down to the soulsmark before popping back up and away. “So can I get you anything? Water?”
“No, no I’m quite alright.” He fights down the urge to hide his hand. After all, news has certainly spread by now. He’d found his soulmate very publicly - on stage - in front of hundreds of onlookers. It’s surely all over the news by now and certainly is the only reason his father has called - he checks his phone - four separate times.
He’s also chosen deliberately not to watch any news coverage about this. He doesn’t need to know what Hell thinks of his soulmate - not yet. First he simply wants to get to know him. He returns home tomorrow, and when he does he’ll have plenty of politics to face. For now, he’s in Wrath, with his soulmate, and nothing will induce him to be anything other than in the moment.
Seven painfully silent minutes later, he hears the sound of gravel crushing beneath tires, and the cut of an engine. He jumps up from his seat, taking a step towards the door. He pauses. Does that look too eager? Should he stay sitting? Should he go to meet him? He’s still standing there, halfway between the sofa and door, when the door creaks open and Blitzø steps inside.
He’s even more handsome than he remembers. His soulmate is in a t-shirt, showing off his impressive arms, and low cut jeans that hug his hips. The imp strides towards him, then slows, lifting an arm, dropping it, and finally shooting it forward. “Hey,” he says.
A handshake. Stolas reaches for his hand. It’s warm, the skin rough with callouses. He shakes. “Blitzø. It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Yeah,” Blitzø says. His voice is loud in the small lobby. “You too.” He pulls his hand away.
“Did you have a nice evening?” Stolas asks.
“Oh yeah. Sure.” Blitzø rocks back and forth on his feet, eyes flashing around the room. “Good.”
“Good!” Silence, except the ticking of the clock. Stolas clasps his hands in front of him. “So should we go?” he asks finally.
“Fuck yeah,” Blitzø says. “Horses. Don’t know why we’re not there already.”
Stolas chuckles and lifts his hands. Magic crackles in the air around him as he opens a portal to a lovely pasture he’d found on Earth. It’s far enough away from the human’s home that they should remain unbothered. “Let’s go then,” he says.
Blitzø stares at the portal, eyes wide. He shifts on his feet for a moment. He’s nervous, Stolas realizes. He steps through the portal then extends a hand, tilting his head out so he can speak to the imp on the other side. “Come on, I assure you it’s perfectly safe.”
The imp hesitates for a moment, but approaches the portal and takes Stolas’ hand. Stolas gives it a careful squeeze and a gentle tug, guiding Blitzø closer. The imp follows, flinching as he steps through the portal and onto Earth. Stolas dismisses the portal and offers his soulmate a kind smile.
Blitzø stares first at the ground, gaze shifting towards the sky. “Wow,” he says, voice soft. “It’s so green. And blue. And…kind of cold?” He turns in a full circle, wide eyes taking in their surroundings before finding the horses just a short walk away. “Earth horses!”
Stolas smiles. “Yes, they’re lovely aren’t they?”
The imp still hasn’t dropped his hand. He takes a step closer, but pauses, looking up at Stolas. “Can we go closer?”
“Yes, of course,” Stolas says.
“They’re not gonna be. I don’t know, scared of us?”
Stolas hums. “I don’t believe so. Come on.” He leads Blitzø towards the fence, steps slow as to not startle the horses grazing in the pasture. A couple of them lift their heads to look at them, but only one trots away. Blitzø seems to be holding his breath, eyes wide as he stares at the animals.
“Look at its gait,” Blitzø says, eyes following the horse that’s slowing now that it’s put some distance between them.
Stolas doesn’t know much about horses, but nods all the same. “Yes, quite beautiful.”
“And that one,” he says, pointing at a chestnut horse with a white splotch across its face and nose. “Her coat is so pretty. Those nasty humans are taking good care of you, aren’t they?” he downright coos.
Blitzø’s voice is so sweet and gentle that it makes Stolas melt. Could Blitzø talk so sweetly to Stolas someday? What he wouldn’t give for someone to gaze at him like that. Blitzø drops his hand and scoots up to the fence, wrapping his hands around the wooden posts and leaning in.
A buzzing fills the air, the vibration loud in the otherwise quiet pasture. Stolas pulls his phone from his pocket, giving it a cursory glance before denying the call. It begins to ring again almost immediately. His father is going to be furious with him, when he sees him next. He suppresses a shudder and does his best to push that thought away, silencing the phone and stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Don’t need to get that?” Blitzø asks.
“We’re on a date,” Stolas says. He smiles and hopes it’s convincing. How long before his father comes looking for him? He’s never ignored his father before or put off a summons, so he really has no idea what to expect. It seems unlikely he’d come to Wrath to admonish him, though. Too public.
Something to worry about tomorrow.
Blitzø shrugs, though Stolas isn’t sure if his nerves are bleeding through, because the imp does shoot him a couple indecipherable looks as they gaze over the pasture. He doesn’t ask again, though. Instead, they watch the horses for what must be hours, Blitzø pointing out various horses and their features. He begins naming them as well, his tail wagging behind him all the while.
Blitzø is in the middle of explaining how one of the horses keeps flicking flies away when one horse, the one he’s dubbed ‘Stapler’, begins to paw at the ground and circle before dropping to the grass. Blitzø gasps as it begins to roll from side to side.
The imp grabs Stolas around the arm, clinging on. “Look,” he whispers. “She’s rolling!”
“Is that good?” Stolas asks, also keeping his voice low.
“She feels safe enough to do it even with us here.” Blitzø shakes his arm, for emphasis. “It means she’s relaxed. This is awesome.”
Stolas can’t stop the smile spreading across his face, not that he wants to. He says nothing, eyes drifting between the horse and Blitzø’s transfixed gaze. A fondness is warming his chest. It’s a privilege to share this moment with his soulmate. Blitzø is allowing him to engage with something he is passionate about. He’s revealing a piece of himself, bare and open, trusting Stolas not to make fun of him for his hobby. No one has ever really let Stolas in before. That Blitzø can do it now, so quickly, it means so much.
“What do horses like to eat?” Stolas asks a few minutes later, once Stapler has stood and gone back to grazing. “For a treat?”
Blitzø hums. “I mean, a lot of things. But apples are one of their favorites.”
Stolas nods. “Alright, just a moment.” He should probably get an apple from the human realm, to be safe. He does a quick search for a nearby human grocery store and opens a small, arm-sized portal in front of a bin of apples. Blitzø turns to watch as he reaches in, snatches one, and hands it to the imp.
Blitzø takes it, gazing up at Stolas. “I can feed them ?” he asks.
“I don’t see why not,” Stolas says.
Looking a bit shell-shocked, Blitzø approaches the fence and holds the apple out. One of the horses takes immediate notice and trots up, lowering its head. Blitzø holds the apple out in his palm, and the horse uses its lips to tug the treat into its mouth, crunching loudly on the snack. With wide eyes, Blitzø reaches out to run a hand down its neck. After a few strokes there he moves to the horse’s nose. The touch is allowed, and Blitzø continues to pet, almost reverently, until the horse moves away once its clear they have no more treats to offer.
“Bye,” Blitzø calls after the horse. Without taking his eyes off it, he says, “I’m going to fuck you so good after this.” Stolas chokes as Blitzø waves after the horse. “Thank you, Toothpaste Cap,” he calls.
Stolas’ cheeks are warm. How does he respond to that? Does he respond to that? Is Blitzø kidding? He doesn’t think so.
As if sensing his unease, Blitzø turns to look at him, a smirk fixed across his lips. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“No!” Blitzø’s smirk wobbles, just slightly. “I mean yes,” Stolas amends, thoughts racing as he tries to remember the basics of grammar. “I mean no I don’t not want to. I want to. Very much want to. I haven't before, not that it's the only reason I want to!” He feels like sinking into the ground. His cheeks are positively flaming.
Blitzø’s smirk sharpens. “Don’t worry, birdy,” he says, voice low. “I’ll take good care of you.”
“O-okay,” Stolas stutters out. He sounds like a complete fool, and does his best to steady his voice. “I look forward to it.”
Blitzø turns his gaze back to the horses, smirk morphing into something more fond. “Well, this hasn’t been much of a first date since I mostly ignored you to look at horses.”
There’s an apology in his voice. Stolas waves it off. “Nonsense. I’ve had a wonderful time.”
“Really?”
Stolas nods. “Yes. I enjoy taking part in your hobbies with you.”
“Huh.” Blitzø nods too, the motion slow. “Good. Well in that case.” He steps closer, and despite his small stature Blitzø’s presence is cosmic, eyes catching Stolas’ and not letting go. Stolas finds his breath catching as Blitzø’s fingertips find his arms, brushing along his feathers. “Why don’t you give me a tour of your room back at the hotel?” His voice dips low, and the heat in Stolas’ cheeks is nothing compared to the spike of need between his legs.
He tries to speak, but the words are strangled. “Yes that sounds. Lovely.”
Blitzø raises an eyebrow, tips of his claws exerting just enough pressure that it leaves tingling in its wake. “Well, lead the way, pretty bird.”
Stolas doesn’t need to be asked twice. He crafts a portal without a moment’s delay, and this time it’s Blitzø leading him through it, straight into the small bedroom that he’s called home for the last couple of days.
The imp doesn’t waste any time, tugging Stolas to the bed until his knees meet the edge. Stolas sits, and Blitzø steps closer. His breath is hot against his neck as the imp tilts his head, and after a moment, slots their mouths together.
The contact is electric, and Stolas needs more. His hands slide to Blitzø’s waist, then behind, pulling gently to urge the other closer. Blitzø tilts his head to deepen the kiss, shifting until one knee rests on the mattress, the other snug between Stolas’ thighs.
Fuck. Fuck. Stolas tugs the imp closer, and Blitzø’s arms wrap around his neck, claws scratching down his back, leaving a tingling heat in their wake. Blitzø’s tongue seeks entrance and Stolas grants it. He has no idea what he’s doing, but every touch of skin and tongue is explosive.
Blitzø pulls away just long enough to tug off his shirt and toss it to the floor, giving Stolas a glorious view of his toned chest. Blitzø’s fingers are on the buttons of his shirt next, touch nimble. Soon enough he’s shedding Stolas of the shirt, adding it to the pile slowly forming on the floor. There are hands on his chest now, sinking into feathers and trailing lower. Stolas presses into the touch. Blitzø’s skin is warm. He feels dizzy. Blitzø trails kisses across his jaw, down his neck, along his shoulder, teeth nipping. It pulls a moan deep from Stolas’ chest, and he flushes, embarrassed. But at the sound Blitzø doubles his efforts, and he can feel a bulge between Blitzø’s legs, and he wants more. So, so much more.
The imp steps away, much to Stolas’ dismay, but only for a moment to reach for the buttons on his pants. He makes quick work of them, dropping them and the boxers in a single, smooth motion. His cock is a wonder, and Stolas can’t help but stare. He reaches out, brushing against its length. He wraps his fingers around it, grip loose, and begins to pump. He can only hope the erotica he’s read up until this point will serve him well, now.
After a few moments Blitzø is moving again, reaching for Stolas’ pants and tugging them off quickly. His eyes linger, gaze considering. “You don’t have a cock,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“N-no,” Stolas says. “I have a cloaca, is that…a problem?” He suddenly feels shy. Imps are different from Goetia, and the idea that his soulmate may not want him sexually sets a pang of anxiety through his chest.
“No,” Blitzø says. “Can I fuck it?”
Stolas blinks at the blunt question. “You…yes. Yes.”
Blitzø’s hands trail lower, fingers lingering along the inside of his thighs. With a gentle push, he spreads Stolas’ legs, gaze focused. The imp nods. “Oh yeah. I can work with this.” The imp’s fingers trail across his thigh until they find Stolas’ slit. His touch is careful, at first. Testing. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says.
Stolas gasps, legs spreading wider, inviting. Blitzø increases his pressure, just a bit, touch exploring every inch of his entrance as if mapping it out. He looks up at Stolas before pressing his fingers deeper into the folds, one finger pressing deeper, and deeper, waiting, Stolas thinks, to see if he’ll be stopped. Stolas presses into the contact and Blitzø presses the finger in fully. Stolas gasps, arching into the touch. “Yes. Fuck, Blitzø. Fuck.”
“Feels good?” Blitzø teases, but his eyes are blown wide as he fingers him, motions slow. He adds a second finger and Stolas groans, hips shifting to seek more.
“You feel amazing,” Stolas pants out. But the stretch isn’t enough. He wants more of him. All of him. “More. Please.”
Blitzø’s motions don’t slow, but he nods, climbing fully onto the bed. His fingers continue their ministrations as he kisses Stolas’ stomach, his hipbone, leaving small bites there that have Stolas sighing with pleasure. Soon he’s replacing fingers with the tip of his cock. It’s so warm and seems impossibly big, but it can’t be, certainly. Not when they were made for each other.
“Just. Let me know if it feels wrong, okay?” Blitzø asks. Stolas nods, and Blitzø continues, pressing in slowly. The stretch burns in the most incredible of ways, and Stolas feels he can’t breathe. Blitzø’s hands are on his hips, touch soft. “Fuck,” the imp growls. “Fuck you’re. Fuck, Stolas.” He pauses, breathing heavy. “You good?”
“Yes yes yes,” Stolas chants, desperate for more of that feeling.
Blitzø presses in deeper, impossibly deeper, until their hips are slotted together and Stolas is full, so incredibly full. He can feel Blitzø’s cock sheathed perfectly by his walls. He clenches, not even meaning to, and it pulls a low moan from Blitzø’s mouth.
“Move?” Stolas asks. “Please.”
And Blitzø does, hips rocking slowly at first, then faster, and Stolas is utterly lost. His mind, for once, quiet, thoughts filled only with the feeling, the sight, the smell of Blitzø, of his cock, of how right this feels.
“Where should I be aiming?” Blitzø’s voice cuts through the air. Stolas, thoughts muddled, blinks slowly down at him.
“What?” he finally manages.
“Aiming,” Blitzø says, punctuating the word with a particularly deep thrust that has Stolas arching. “Come on, tell me where to aim.”
He has no idea how to describe it so reaches, practically bending in half to get his hands on Blitzø’s hips and shift the angle. Then Blitzø is moving, brushing the most incredible bundle of nerves inside him and Stolas’ mouth falls open, a wanton moan falling from his beak. “There you are,” Blitzø purrs, and aims for that same spot again.
Stolas drops back to the mattress, rising to meet each thrust. The heat, the angle, every single thing about it is so far beyond what Stolas ever imagined sex could be like. Blitzø’s thrusts become shallow, and there’s something catching, some ridge or slit or something , but it’s pulling at that nub of nerves just right and Stolas sees white.
He can feel Blitzø’s hips stuttering as warmth floods him, can feel claws digging into hips, can hear himself, distantly, calling Blitzø’s name. Blitzø drops forward, head resting on his chest and breathing heavily.
Stolas can’t catch his breath, his cunt still throbbing with the aftermath of his orgasm. He has no idea how much time passes before Blitzø shifts. Pulling out comes with a strange pull and a rush of rapidly cooling liquid. Stolas shifts away from the wet spot, reaching for Blitzø who crawls up the bed to settle against him.
“Wow,” Blitzø says finally.
“Yeah,” Stolas says. He looks at the imp and grins, giggles escaping his mouth for no other reason than he’s giddy. “You were. Amazing.”
“You were amazing, fuck,” Blitzø says, expression awed. He tugs Stolas closer, claws brushing through the feathers on his head, down his neck. “And that was your first time?”
“Mhm.” Stolas feels untethered, like he’s floating among the cosmos and Blitzø is his anchor.
“Fuck, ” Blitzø says again. “Okay yeah we are definitely compatible.” A beat. “You may even say cum-captible.”
Laughter bubbles in Stolas’ chest and he doesn’t try to stop it, laughing against Blitzø’s shoulders with small, little hoots in between.
Blitzø chuckles beside him. “I think you have a bad sense of humor.”
Stolas giggles and gazes at him. He feels so warm, so happy. Happier than he’s ever been, he’s sure. He’s found him. He’s found him. He’s going to fall in love with him, and he’ll love this man so deeply, so completely, until the day his life blinks out. He can feel it in every atom of his being. “You’re just funny,” he counters, voice fond.
Blitzø shrugs, eyes darting away. He tugs Stolas’ head down against his shoulder and holds it there, claws carding through his feathers again. “Then I got a joke you’ll love.”
“Oh, tell me.”
“Why couldn’t the man find his map?”
Stolas considers the question for a moment. “Why?”
“Because he lost his map.”
Stolas snorts, turning his face to hide against Blitzø’s bare shoulder. His laugh is punctuated by loud hoots. When he pulls away Blitzø is grinning at him, shaking his head.
“You do have bad taste,” Blitzø says.
“I do not,” Stolas protests. He can’t stop smiling. He settles back against Blitzø, draping an arm over his chest. They’re quiet for several minutes, Stolas watching the slow rise and fall of Blitzø’s chest. If days like today are what his life is going to be like, he can face his father. He can stand up to the other Goetia and whatever it is they will say about him and his match. Any of the grief they give him will be worth it, for this.
It’s not as if they can deny a soulsmark, anyway. It’s ancient magic that can’t really be tampered with, and is highly punishable if one even tries. Surely they must see that Blitzø is his soulmate for a reason. Surely they couldn’t deny him his soulmate, right?
He pushes those thoughts aside. Tomorrow. A problem for tomorrow.
“Can you stay long?” Stolas asks.
“Yeah. Can stay for breakfast,” Blitzø says. “Then I gotta get back to Pride. Got a lot of work to do. Business to…learn to run.”
Stolas smiles. “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. And I’m happy to help. Oh!” He sits up quickly. “Can I have your phone number?”
Blitzø rolls his eyes, but Stolas thinks his expression is fond? He can’t wait to learn more about this man. Can’t wait to read his expressions and his tone. “Sure soulmate, you can have my phone number,” Blitzø says. “Gotta get my phone.”
“Where is it?”
“Pants.” Before Blitzø can even shift, Stolas is levitating his pants over. Blitzø watches. “Nice. I could get used to this.”
Stolas grins at him as Blitzø digs his phone out and hands it over. He writes down his name - and on impulse adds a heart after it - and his phone number. They’re exchanging numbers. He has his soulmate’s phone number. His face hurts from how much he’s smiled in the last 24 hours.
Blitzø shoots off a text to him and Stolas immediately grabs his phone to save the number. Three missed calls from his father. One from Andrealphus. Two texts from Stella.
And one from an unknown number. Blitzø.
He saves the number to his contacts and sets the phone aside.
Tomorrow, he tells himself as he settles back against Blitzø’s side. That’s an issue for tomorrow.