Work Text:
Moxxie stopped mid sentence, which was really fucking annoying. Worse than listening to whatever the fuck he’d been saying. Something about splitting up, I think?
Fuck. What was his plan? “Mox, focus. We’ve got three more of these little bitches to f- what are you looking at?”
He pointed, despite the fact his wide eyes were hard to miss. “Uh, him, sir.”
I looked behind me finally, giving up on finishing the conversation we’d just been having to get my gun ready and point it at whoever was taking Moxxie off guard.
I lowered my gun immediately. “Stolas, what the fuck are you doing here? I’m in the middle of a hit, this better be fucking important.”
“I need you to come with me.” His voice was unreadable. It was crisp and clear and he enunciated, and I was obviously terrified, but, I wasn’t going to let that show.
“I’m in the middle of a hit, Stolas. Can’t this fucking wait?” I glared at him.
“No.” He stepped aside and gestured through the portal he’d come through, into a familiar room. One of the most familiar rooms. His bedroom.
My heart was in my stomach and my muscles felt clammy. Fuck. I’ve fucked up. I’ve done something wrong, it’s serious, I’ve fucked up, and this is going to be bad. But I’m not a fucking coward, so I rolled my eyes and put my gun away. “Fine, fucking, whatever. Mox, Mills, you got this?”
“Of course, B. We can handle this on our own.” Millie gave me a nervous look.
Stolas was now pushing me through the portal, and I wondered what was so damn important, so time-sensitive, that he couldn’t even let me march through on my own, putting on a show of how not afraid of him I am and how annoying this is.
Shit, shit, shit, I fucked up big time, he’s really fucking mad at me, what did I do?
The portal closed behind us and I was wringing my wrists. The adrenaline of the hunt was still in my blood stream, and my fight-or-flight senses were tingling. “The fuck did I do this time? I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but you know I’m good for-” I cut myself off, nearly tripping over my own feet when I turned around to see he was fucking crying .
“You haven’t done anything wrong.” His voice was not ‘crisp’ or ‘clear’ at all now. He’s shaking, he’s shrinking in on himself, his posture was the worst I’ve ever seen it. “I’m sorry, I know how important your business is for you. I-” his voice broke and he shrank in on himself, “I’ll pay you for your missed time. More, if your employees do not fulfill the hit properly without you. I don’t have anyone else, please just let me hold you for a minute?”
I dry swallowed, and it was hard to breathe. This isn’t normal. This isn’t anything close to what I was expecting. He looks like shit and I’ve never seen him torn up like this. Fight or flight left me in an instant, and stupid fucking freeze, the one I hate most , was taking hold.
He started shaking more violently and he suddenly couldn’t look at me. “ Please , Blitz. Just a moment. I need-” his voice broke again and he let out a little sound that made my chest feel weird, “I’ll pay you.”
Shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck , he’s real fucked up and he came to me and I don’t know what that means but I’m not going to take money for comforting someone I care about! “I don’t want that.” I said it harsher than I meant to, the biting meant for myself, for making him beg. He flinched anyways. “Just tell me what you need.”
He scooped me up off the ground before my first step toward him was finished, and I was crushed in those scrawny twig arms instantly. He was trembling like a leaf under me, his face was in my neck, making it warm and wet almost instantly .
I slowly slipped my tail around his waist. “Take us to the bed, Feathers. Get off your feet.” I hesitantly dropped my hands over his shoulders, toward his back.
He did as I said, and when we got to the bed, he didn’t lay down on his back and cradle me into him like I expected, with the kind of after-sex cuddling he’s always trying to pull. He leaned forward until our weight was supported by his knees, head, and my back and horns. He was curled up over me, sobbing, fingers clutching at me like I could actually give him any kind of comfort from whatever the fuck has him so torn up.
I dared to draw my hands further over his back, in a way that could almost, maybe, be considered holding him back.
“What,” I stopped because the instant I spoke he tensed and stopped breathing, “what happened?”
“You don’t have to do that.” He trembled over me again.
“Do what?”
“Talk. I know I am making you uncomfortable, I know you do not care. I’ll be alright in a moment, I’ll send you back, we can pretend this never happened.”
Oh, hell no. “Tell me what happened, who the fuck do I need to kill?”
“You can’t kill her! You don’t have any blessed weapons, and if you were to, you would have the rest of the Goetia to contend with and I couldn’t protect you from all that.” So it’s Stella then.
“I’ve got one.”
He stiffened again and, as I wondered if I should have mentioned that or not, his arms loosened and he rolled up to a sit. I fell the last little bit down to the bed, with his arms out from under me, and he sat over me, on the very edge, his pupils glowing white on red.
I tried to back-pedal, panicking. “Took it off Striker, that time he tried to kill you in Wrath. Haven’t done anything with it, it’s all locked up and shit, not even Moxxie and Millie can get to it unless we need it. You know, for, like, emergencies or something. I wasn’t just going to destroy it! That shit’s expensive, and, what if we got in trouble with some more powerful demons? You know I’d never even think about hurting you.”
He didn’t look any calmer after my dumb fucking ramble, but his hands were closing around my face. My heart was in my throat, I felt like I was going to puke. He’s already freaking out over something, Stella’s getting to him bad now, and I’m not helping!
“I would tear them apart,” finally came his answer, “but they would destroy you if you were to defend yourself like that. Blitz, you can’t put yourself in danger like that.”
I dry swallowed again. “You aren’t… mad? You’re not like, worried about yourself?”
His face pinched like he was going to start crying again. “I know you aren’t fond of me, but, I trust you, Blitz.” He started wiping at his eyes and taking deep breaths, fixing his posture and moving to sit beside me instead of over me. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken you from your job. I’ll send you back, perhaps you can finish it still.” He was folding himself up to fit in an envelope as I watched. He blinked until his eyes until they weren’t so wet, he was taking forceful, deep breaths, and then closing his eyes while tilting his head upward.
I shifted into an uneasy sit. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what Stella did.”
His eyes flashed open and he looked down to me. His pupils were gone. “That isn’t why I brought you here. I don’t expect you to listen to my ‘silly woes’.”
“I’m the one asking. I’ve never seen you like this before, and you wouldn’t call me out like this if you could just get over it in a few seconds. Stop doing, uh, whatever the fuck it is you’re doing,” I gestured toward him because now, he almost looked normal, he almost looked like he had when he’d met me in the human world, “and do what you brought me over here for.”
His expression cracked again. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not- Stols, you’re the one that brought me in here. I’m not taking your fucking money for something like this, and I’m not going to do a shit job. Do I half-ass our full moon deal? No. I fuck you so hard you’re seeing stars without that book of yours. I make you feel so good you make those cute little bird sounds. I’m not half-assing any job you give me, alright?”
He blinked at me in startle, his feathers fluffing, and his fingers started to twitch in the air toward me. “Are you… is this about pride to you? Your work ethic? You don’t need to be here, now, to keep my book.”
It’s about I love the guy and it breaks my heart to see him go from absolutely wrecked emotionally to masking master because he doesn’t want to ‘inconvenience’ me. “Yeah, it’s a pride thing, sure. You’re not sending me back until this is over, so stop hiding your fucking panic attack from me and do what you need to do with me. Tell me what you want me to do.”
The way we’re sitting now, we’re facing each other and our knees were nearly touching. His hands slipped from his lap onto mine, he lightly gripped my thighs. Oh, good, he just wants sex. That’s easy, I know how to do that, and I can make him feel- his face is not horny.
“I want you to get rid of her touch.”
“She put her hands on you? What the fuck?” I looked him over for any indication on what exactly that meant. She’s assaulted him, but, how?
“When Goetia are distressed, it’s common for loved ones to preen each other.” His voice is soft and he’s looking down, avoiding my eyes. “Will you fix my feathers?”
I’ll do anything you ask me to right now. “Yeah, show me what to do.”
“I don’t like aski-”
“You’re not asking. I am. You told me to come with you, and I did. Don’t bring me over here if you aren’t going to let me do what you want.” I crawled toward him and pushed him down to lay. “Come on, I’ll figure it out. I know enough about your feathers, I think I can handle this.”
He reached to move me off him, which felt like the same as stabbing me in the chest. “Blitz, you don’t care for me the way I do you and having you here, doing something you don’t want to do, is so much worse than not having you here at all. When you get bored of this, please just leave . Don’t humor me begrudgingly. ”
“I’m not leaving until you want me to. Like, actually, not just because you want to mope by yourself. Take your clothes off, show me more feathers.” I reached out to pull on his shirt.
He relaxed a bit and did as I said. His shirt dropped to the floor and he moved to lay down on his stomach.
I sat on his back and started on the back of his head. He made a noise I really liked and finally relaxed.
As I started on his shoulders, I gave a nervous look to the shit job I did on the back of his head. “Isn’t there, like, a professional you could get for something like this? Like, getting a masseuse or something?”
He hummed in negative. “It has to be you.”
“Me? Specifically? That doesn’t make any sense.” My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
“It’s because I l- trust you. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my body, and my affections for you are unique.”
His face is turned away from me, so I didn’t try very hard to suppress my expressions.
I’m going to do the best fucking preening job an imp has ever done.
I let it go until I got to his lower back, at which point he was completely relaxed and I wanted to maybe try doing more than the bare minimum again. I pet over the feathers I’d already fixed a few times, then leaned down to kiss him there. He made a sound I really liked, confirming he hadn’t fallen asleep despite the fact he’s not moved or said anything in half an hour .
“Feeling any better yet?”
“Are you bored? Do you want to stop?” His voice was worried, resigned, but still a lot calmer than earlier.
“No.” I kissed his lower back again and went back to work. “Just making sure I’m doing this right.”
“You’re doing fantastic.” His voice was so soft I almost couldn’t hear it. “I’ve never had this; I feel selfish for making you do it now.”
I ignored that. “So what did Stella do?”
“Why do you keep asking?”
“’Cause I want to know. ‘Cause you should talk about this kind of shit.”
He inhaled deeply, so much his back rose up under me and eased back down. “Nothing new, Blitz. I was married to her for seventeen years, there is nothing she can do to me that I haven’t survived already. It’s over now, however. Finally. I’ve simply never had someone like you before, and I am sorry, but, I think I am weaker now. I should not be putting any of this on you, it isn’t fair to you.”
“Can you just stop thinking about me for, like, ten seconds? The fuck do you mean, ‘nothing new’? Did she regularly put her hands on you? Hold the fuck on, Stolas, did she fucking hurt you when you were married?”
His tail fluffed behind me once, raising up and back down elegantly . “I don’t want to complain.”
I pulled his pants down to start on the feathers over his ass. He adjusted to make it easier and didn’t object . “You’re allowed to complain. I’m not going anywhere right now, and I’m feeling kind of angry. I want to be more angry. I want to be as pissed off about all this as I fucking should be, so start complaining.”
His head turned around in that creepy way that he does sometimes that makes fucking him backwards not a safe or effective way to make him stop watching me. “Are you certain? I’d rather not bore you or frustrate you with the details. I know I am annoying, and I talk too much at times.”
“Uh? No? You’re annoying when you’re thirsting over me and making everyone else uncomfortable, or when you use that cutesy nickname in public. You’re not annoying when you’re doing one of your info-dumps or whatever. She tell you that? So, what, she bitches at you for talking too much and she hits you? For fuck’s sake, you’re serious?”
“Why are you doing this?” He’s really having a hard time letting me do this. “You dislike conversations, you hate letting me cuddle you, and you never do anything for free. I understand I’m already unstable, but, I find it so difficult to believe this is real. What are you expecting from me? What do I have to give you in return for this?”
I sat upright, because I was done with this side of him, and made eye contact. I could maybe g o take a shot, maybe six, or maybe shoot myself in the leg, so I can have the courage to be fucking honest, but it’s not like he’d believe me anyway. Or I can handle this the Blitzo way.
“Give me a favor.”
He gave me a confused look. “Excuse me?”
“A favor. I’ll tell you what it is when I call it in. You give me that favor, I stay here, finish fixing your feathers, you tell me your whole fucking sob story, and you get to do whatever you want with me.”
“That’s such a steep price for you.”
“You think there’s nothing I can use that favor on that makes up for this? Trust me, it will. Get as indulgent as you want, I don’t want you get shorted on this deal. I’m not telling you what it is yet, but trust me, you’re going to want to get your fill.”
He squinted his eyes at me, frowning, deciding whether to believe me or not.
“Are you going to end our full moon deal?”
“No.” I slid my hands over his long tail feathers, as I now sat between his knees and had it pulled over my lap, to the side. “The favor has nothing to do with the grimoire, it doesn’t involve hurting anyone, and I’m not going to have you do anything that jeopardizes Octavia or something like that.”
He moved to get up and rolled over to lay down on his back. “In that case, I would like you to fix the rest of my feathers. And I want to tell you about my marriage.”
I started at the bottom this time and mostly didn’t interrupt. I listened, keeping my attention on his feathers and taking my time. I gave an appropriate ‘what the fuck’ and ‘ that bitch’ as he spoke, among other short comments that didn’t distract from his story. He took side stories, tangents of almost-unrelated side bars, and I listened the whole time.
He was only born to use the grimoire. His old man had a whole bunch of kids to shun a bunch of responsibilities off on, and by now I bet the guy doesn’t do shit. The day we met as kids was his fucking birthday , I was supposed to be a birthday present to him, and the only reason I went home was because I pissed his dad off by stealing shit. That’s the same day his Dad told him he was going to have to marry Stella. He had to marry Stella because he had to produce a precautionary heir, in case he died, so the grimoire didn’t have to go back to his dad. His dad picked Stella specifically because he liked that her name matched the whole space-theme Stolas was predestined for. That’s fucking it . She’s been horrible to him from the very beginning, she was physically assaulting him since they were kids, and as long as he bent over backwards to keep her happy, she wouldn’t pull his feathers or hit him.
I thought they just didn’t like each other. I thought they were just some bitchy power couple, I figured it was probably an arranged marriage, I knew he hated her and he was real excited about the divorce, I had no idea she’d fucking tormented him like this. She insulted him, she belittled everything he cared about, and, he didn’t say this outright but I put the pieces together, she’s convinced him he isn’t even worthy of being loved. She’s the fucking reason he’s so suspicious of me.
Not the only reason. I’ve kept him at arm’s length, and this whole fucking time I figured he knew what we were and he was just some pompous asshole. He has no idea what he deserves. F ucking, everything he knows about anything he’s learned from me and Stella.
He thinks the most he deserves is this. He is fully convinced the only way he’s capable of receiving care or anything he wants is by paying for it.
Like with the grimoire.
I was laying on top of him and playing with his chest feathers to try and make sure I was giving him enough time to rant to his heart’s content.
“Today, the divorce was finalized. Everything is over. It’s done, and I should be grateful. I should be happy. I’m finally rid of her, but Octavia is angry with me, she’s devastated, she doesn’t understand. I can’t explain it to her, though. I can’t burden anyone with all of this, least of all my daughter. Thankfully, she wasn’t there at our final meeting.”
I tried to remember what I could of Octavia, but all I came up with was her glaring at me and the way she’d hugged him when we found her in LA that one time. “She’ll come around.”
“And now I understand we have a deal, I’ll give you whatever it is you want, but, I don’t know what that is. Have I asked enough of you to warrant whatever it is you want? Do you think it’s fair yet?”
He had to know I was just fucking around now. His hands were on my back; one was resting on my lower back and the other was fidgeting with the spikes on my spine. Time to stop reacting and pick up half of this conversation, I guess. “Hmm, I don’t know. I haven’t actually done much here. You haven’t done much either, you just talked. You could have fucking talked without needing a deal, I told you that shit. You really think making me clean up your feathers and listen is really that much?” How much can I milk this for? “What else did you want me over here for?”
He trilled, “Putting up with me is n o small feat.”
I rolled my eyes and put my hands flat over his chest, shoved them upward until there were long feathers between each of my fingers, and I gripped them. He gasped and shivered under me, but I knew it didn’t hurt because I wasn’t pulling any feathers out. I know what he likes. I know exactly where his boundaries are.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
His hands tightened over me. “That isn’t necessary. Would you like me to send you back?”
“I don’t know, you done with me? You brought me here because Stella’s harassed you. You over that yet? You actually want me gone now?” I loosened my grip on his feathers and started petting the again.
“Blitzy, I never want you gone. Blitz. Sorry.” He sighed and drew his hands up away from me to cover his face, his elbows up in the air.
“Fine.” I moved to sit up on top of him. “You ready for that favor?”
His hands left his face quickly and he stared up at me with wide eyes. “I expected for you to collect this ‘favor’ much later. Immediately? Are you certain?”
“Yeah. Remember, you have to agree, no questions asked, and you can’t back out. Got it? Exactly what I say.”
He looked nervous. “I understand. You’ve… been magnificent for me. You’ve given me something I didn’t think I’d ever have, here, this evening. Even if it isn’t real, I truly appreciate your assistance.”
I leaned forward until I had to support my weight with my hands on the bed on either side of his face. His eyes widened slightly and his chin tilted upward, automatically, for me. I kissed him. His hands appeared back on me immediately , pulling me closer, and he put his whole bird-puss into it. With my new revelation that this asshole is nothing but genuine, I let myself enjoy it like I were kissing the demon I could considerably spend the rest of my life with because this asshole for-real, unironically, actually likes me. I love him, I know that much, and I never planned on letting anyone know that in a million years, and I’m not positive he even knows what love actually is, but, I think he might love me too.
When I sat back up to watch him, he resisted letting me up only a moment, but let me go. I held eye contact for a moment, enjoying the look on his face until it faded and he got nervous again.
“Blitz?”
I got off him. “I want a drink.”
“You,” he sat up behind me and sounded more confused than nervous again, “You’ll tell me what your favor is over a drink?”
“No. That’s the favor. I know fancy rich people have bars in their houses, so show me where it is. Have a drink with me.”
I was pulling his bedroom door open and he was still sitting up on the bed. When I looked back at him, he looked upset.
I groaned and nearly closed the door, “For fuck’s sake, what’s your problem now?”
“Are you making fun of me? I did not just take advantage of you for nothing. That’s the last thing I want! Why are you doing this?”
“You’re not allowed to ask followup questions, remember? Whatever I want, and I want to have a drink with you.”
He still didn’t look like he trusted me. “You’re asking for one drink, just a drink, in return for… for that?”
“I think that’s fair. Stop breaking my rules, I said no questions asked. Take me to the bar.” I gestured.
He stood up and but his robe on, approach ing me wearily. “Very well. It’s downstairs, I’ll show you.” He gestured lazily, open palmed, down the hallway.
I snatched his hand out of the air and he stiffened, turning to look down to me quickly, but I was already towing him away from the bedroom and doing everything I could not to make a big deal out of it. He squeezed my hand back and took the lead.
When we got to the bar, he picked me up and set me down on it, bypassing the stools that would have put the bar up to my chin, and he moved around to the bartender’s side.
“What do you want?”
“Surprise me.” I turned to watch him.
He took a few different bottles out and started making a drink to pour into two fancy crystal glasses. He set mine next to me and carried his back around so he could sit in one of the stools next to me.
“You said no questions asked, but, I have one.”
“I’ll decide if I want to answer it after I hear it.” I took a longer sip, eyeing him wearily.
“What happens when we’re done?” He didn’t start on his, but he did stare down at it. “Do you want me to send you back?”
“I’m staying the night.”
“You- you are?” He glanced up toward me, confused again. “Why?”
I emptied my glass and slammed it down on the bar, making him flinch on accident, before taking his from him and taking a long swing from it too. Only then did I feel tipsy enough to answer that. “Because I want to. Because you want me to.”
He fiddled with the empty glass, not complaining or drawing any attention to the not-so-slight of hand I just pulled there. “I don’t understand.”
“People don’t need me like that.” I glared down at my glass again. “They sure as fuck don’t want anything to do with me when their day is already fucked. The last thing anyone fucking needs is to see my dumb fucking mug after one of the worst days of their life. The fact that you did… I want to stay. The others can figure shit out until I get back to work tomorrow – and you’re going to have to send me in because it’s your fault I don’t have my van this time and I do not want to waste bus fare from all the way out here – without me. I… like this job. It’s a good gig.”
“Blitz…” his tone wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for. He sounded disappointed. I didn’t look up, I just tensed and waited for the rejection. “I don’t want to be a job.”
I flinched. “Well I’m not getting paid for this, so I guess that’s fair. I like this… duty? This obligation? Fuck, that sounds worse, doesn’t it? You’re already a good fuck, Stols, I’d probably do you without our deal honestly. I guess it’s just… nice? Sure. It’s nice to… be useful for something that… it’s important that it’s me that’s doing it.”
He sighed and reached past my shoulder to pour straight liquor into the second glass I’ve emptied. I didn’t look all the way back to him, but I saw he had some in his. The cup that was originally mine.
He set the half-empty bottle of some kind of dark liquor down on his other side, further from me. “This isn’t a ‘duty’ or an ‘obligation’, Blitz. This is a relationship. That’s what you’re talking about. It’s what I want with you so badly, what you’ve been avoiding so thoroughly. I want your company when I’ve had a hard day. You want to make me feel better. Of course I want you to stay the night, but, I also want your company after a nice day. You can’t pick and choose when you’re in my life, if you tell me you want to stay. I can’t handle that.”
“So you’re kicking me out?” I gripped the glass tighter.
“Not if you’re willing to stay. I’m not proud of myself tonight, and I won’t let it happen again if you only want me at my worst. You can stay the night if you’ll also take me on my good days.”
Well, shit. That is kind of what this looks like, isn’t it? “I don’t…” I don’t know what the fuck I was about to say. I don’t know what I want, really. Because tonight’s re-contextualized a few things for me, and I haven’t really had time to adapt.
“You don’t have to stay.” He sighed and set his glass down. I glanced over, it was empty. “But those are my terms.”
I downed mine and set it next to his. “I don’t know how to do that. Stols, I fuck shit up all the time. I’m better at making things worse, and I don’t really want to disappoint you. It’s easier when the demon you like spending time with is already fucked up, but on your good days, you don’t deserve to get dragged down. You don’t deserve that shit.”
“I don’t know what I deserve.” He reached for the liquor bottle again. “I’m still trying to figure that out. I’d like to think I deserve to choose the people I spend time with. I’d like to think I deserve the company of demons I truly care for, and who care for me. And regardless of your own self-image, that primarily means you. You’ve seen me at a very low point today, Blitzy, but it’s temporary. The divorce is finalized, and that is something I am celebrating, even if it doesn’t look like it. Today I have felt horrible, but only because freedom is so close. That is the best thing I could imagine, and it’s all your fault. It’s all because of you. I would never have imagined I could choose anything for myself if it weren’t for you, and whether you agree or not, you are the only person I am comfortable showing that vulnerability to. You’ve taken very good care of me, you’ve done far better than I could have dreamed, today, and I want you to stay whether I ‘deserve it’ or not.”
He didn’t pour any into his glass, just mine. After he finished his speech, he put the bottle to his mouth and took a full swing straight out of it. I’d finally lifted my eyes enough to look at his face while he was giving that speech, but he’d had his eyes drawn to the side, avoiding looking directly at me. He didn’t meet my gaze until he lowered the bottle and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.
He made a cute as fuck little owl noise and looked nervous after the first few seconds of prolonged eye contact. “What?”
“Can we fuck about it?”
His pupils appeared, briefly, for just a moment. I know what he looks like when he’s aroused. I also, now, know what he looks like when he’s trying to ignore it in favor of other things. “Do you really think that’s appropriate, after everything else tonight?”
“Kinda?” I took the bottle from his hands and took a swing to match. “We’re going to be drunk off our asses by the time we leave this bar, I’ve wanted to fuck you since I realized you weren’t bringing me here because you were pissed at me, and I don’t really know how else to tell you that I want you at your best and your worst. Stols, I don’t like talking about this, I’m way more comfortable eating your bird puss. Fuck, you just divorced that bitch! You know what would really stick it to her? Letting me make you orgasm so hard you forget who she is.”
His pupils came back out and he was leaning down and my direction by the time I finished talking. I saw him dry swallow. He is drunk now. I’ve seen him drunk before, and sure he can hold his liquor, he’s nowhere near the point of no return, but a little bit of alcohol can get him to loosen up and take a more ‘fuck it’ attitude. “I don’t want to be an obligation.” His voice is low and he sounded like he was already on board with my plan. “I want you to want me.”
I slid the bottle down the bar slightly, away from us, and climbed up onto my knees toward him. “Oh, I fucking want you. I want you,” I paused and slipped my fingers into his feathers, making them fluff up as his hands hovered over my shoulders, “to let me preen you again when you need it done.”
“Done.” He tried to lean in to kiss me.
I dodged him. “I want you to give me a minimum of four shots if you want to talk about this mushy shit again.”
“Done,” he moaned and tried to lean in again.
I dodged again. “I want you to stop sending me those long-ass texts I can’t fucking read. You want me to know what the fuck you’re talking about, keep it short and to the point.”
“Done.” He tried to pull me in this time, but I was actually having fun and I dodged him again.
“I want-”
He turned me over and pinned me down on the bar. One of our glasses fell on the ground and shattered. “What do you want?” he practically growled, impatient, hands on my hips and picking at the top of my pants.
“I want to fuck you everywhere that would piss that bitch off most. Stop moping over her and let’s get nasty.”
Making him moan is way easier than talking. Unfortunately, one of those is more important in a ‘relationship’, as he put it, and he only let me do the other after we did the talking. But I guess that ‘talking’ was enough, because he let me make him moan in the bar room.
I don’t… exactly remember how I got from a pair of thighs wrapped around my head to waking up in the bed the next morning, but I had a pounding headache and a couple of feathers stuck to my forehead, after I peeled it up and out of the fluffy, fucked-up puff on his chest. His arms had been wrapped around me, my knees down on either side of him into the mattress, and even though he made a disappointed sound when I sat up to squint about the room in search of my phone (alarm going off somewhere I couldn’t identify yet), he didn’t wake.
It’s on the bedside table. My clothes aren’t anywhere in sight- no. No, they’re folded on the desk for some reason.
I lurched over to grab my phone and shut the alarm off, and he only stirred when I’d brought my phone (still blaring) back right by his head, where I was still sitting over him. He still didn’t fucking wake up.
Great.
My phone’s almost dead, it’s twenty minutes before I’m supposed to be in the office, and my head feels like it’s a moldy watermelon full of dryer balls soaked in lime juice. Judging from the state of his feathers, despite the fact I’d spent so long fixing them yesterday, and the fact he hasn’t woken at all yet despite the loud-ass alarm and my crawling over him to get to the side table, he’s not going to be feeling a whole lot better than I am right now, when he does manage to wake up. I don’t usually stay long enough for him to wake up, after a full moon, so I don’t really know when the ‘normal’ time for that is, let alone after a night like that.
So I sent the I.M.P. group chat a quick ‘cumin g l8 dont wate up’ before dropping it face-down beside us on the mattress and dropping my face back down into his chest.
He took a deep breath and trilled on the exhale, arms pulling up and around me again. I hummed slightly, testing, expecting some kind of response if he was conscious. Nothing. Not even a tightening of his arms or a twitch of his stomach, so, I assume he’s still out like a light.
So this is going to happen for real, I guess. We fucked about it, which doesn’t have to mean anything, but he made it pretty clear that was only happening if ‘this’ is happening for real. So it’s happening for real. He had a bad day. He wanted me. He wanted that kind of comfort from me, even though I’m actually a complete piece of shit and even by the end of that all, he still hadn’t changed his mind.
I guess we’re just going to see how far I can push this before he does.
But I couldn’t get his complete break-down out of my memory. He’s fine now. He’s relaxed, his face is all calm and shit, he let me distract him from that Stella bullshit completely. He’s fucked up over their divorce, when he should be celebrating.
I rolled over so I could stick my face over the side of his shoulder and fished my phone back out. Still with the group chat up, ignoring the quick acknowledgments from them with no followup questions, and typed out as best I could with one hand,
“Who nows how to throh a surpris party?”