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Stolas still moves his hands the way he did when he could pick something up from across the room. Sometimes he'll reach for something, turning his hand in that same elegant way, but now his fingers don't glow and nothing moves except Blitzo.
"You know it makes me feel worse when you do this," Stolas sometimes says when Blitzo hands him something he's tried to pick up with the magic he doesn't have. Or "I'm perfectly capable." And Blitzo doesn't really mind--it's better when Stolas gets annoyed with him than when he just sighs or sounds ashamed when he mumbles a thank you or when Blitzo doesn't notice until he sees the way Stolas' shoulders slump when he forgets he has to actually walk over and pick things up with his hands.
Sometimes (not for the first time) he wonders how long it took Fizz to figure out how to walk again or how to pick things up.
***
"You're treating him like he's fragile," Loona suddenly says on the drive to work.
"No," Blitzo says. He's been treating Stolas like he's rare and precious and special. Which is different. Somehow.
"Probably bugs the shit out of him," Loona says.
"Maybe," Blitzo says. But the man he loves so fucking much has hollow bones, and they don't actually know if he's still invulnerable. Blitzo doesn't want to know.
"It'd bug the shit out of me," Loona continues. "He used to, like, move planets and shit--"
"Don't think he actually moved them."
"And you're acting like he can't even walk across the room and pick up the fucking newspaper."
"Yeah, well..."
Sometimes he sees frustration twist Stolas' beak when he opens the newspaper with his hands or the sad shame of trying to figure out how to hold it so it doesn't flop in on itself.
It reminds him of watching the grimoire's pages turning as it floated beside Stolas.
It makes him think of that month or so when just trying to eat was slow and miserable, using his fingers like a claw machine, not even trying to eat anything above room temperature in case it touched the burned half of his lips (not that he was getting too many hot meals then anyway). All the times he just grabbed a stupid cup without thinking and then dropped it because it hurt too fucking much.
"Just...maybe ease the fuck up?" Loona says.
"Yeah, maybe," Blitzo says, but if Stolas is still on the same spot on the couch when they get back from work, Blitzo is going to bring him the tea he likes so he actually drinks something and maybe take his hands and lead him to the table when he's done making dinner so he can try to get him to actually eat something.
***
He knows without being told that Stolas has been avoiding looking at his reflection.
And Blitzo knows what it's like to not want to see your new face, so he starts doing Stolas' feathers for him. Not that he's been able to get Stolas out of the apartment as much as he probably should, but preening seems like the kind of thing that maybe makes you feel less shitty about yourself. Not that Blitzo has any personal experience with letting your feathers or your hair go to shit, but he's definitely had that shameful revelation that, oh, maybe you feel less like a miserable fuck when you force yourself to brush your fangs and at least attempt to shower, even when there's too many places that fucking hurt when you accidentally let the water hit them.
"I look awful," Stolas tells him.
"Well, that's why I'm helping," Blitzo says.
For whatever reason, Stolas has never been annoyed by this the way it sometimes upsets him to be handed something he can't reach. Maybe it's because it's something they did before and it hasn't changed. Stolas' feathers still feel the same when Blitzo runs his claws through them, and Stolas still relaxes under his touch and makes the same little pleased sounds he always used to.
"No," Stolas says. "I mean I just look awful now."
Blitzo doesn't tell him he's gorgeous. He's definitely not going to tell Stolas he's beautiful. Stolas is, but Stolas is smart enough to know that that's the kind of shit people say when something's made you so ugly they pity you.
"You look different," Blitzo says. Because he knows that anybody who says "You can hardly tell" is full of shit. You know you must look like absolute houndshit when somebody tells you they don't even notice.
And he noticed immediately. He sees all the ways that it's changed Stolas because he's never been able to stop looking at him--now he just doesn't care if Stolas sees him looking.
"Is 'different' the polite way of saying awful?" Stolas asks.
"Oh yeah, you know me, Miss Fucking Manners over here," Blitzo says. "You think I wouldn't tell you if you looked like shit?"
"Do I?"
"No." He gives Stolas' crest feathers one last fluff. "You don't. Because I am an amazing fucking bird stylist."
He knows he shouldn't say it--at least not until Stolas is willing to look in the mirror again--but he kind of likes the little streak where the feathers are a lighter grey. Maybe it'll be gone in a hundred years or maybe it'll still be there like the place on Stolas' arm and the place on Stolas' thigh where the feathers are never going to grow back.
Stolas looks different now, but when Blitzo looks at his strange eyes and the streak in his crest and the small scars on his body, he knows Stolas will always be beautiful to him. But he can't fucking say that because it sounds like a lie. And he knows the vast, shitty difference between "you're hot" and "you're still hot."
So instead he says, "Also I don't fuck uggos."
Stolas snorts. It's the closest he's come to laughing since it happened. "What?"
"You heard me." He puts his arms around Stolas from behind and kisses his neck--Stolas' feathers muffle the kiss just like they always do, but he still shivers a little bit.
"Mm, is that why you've been such a consummate gentleman?" Stolas asks.
"Like the soup?"
Another sound that's almost but not quite a laugh. "Yes, exactly like the soup."
They haven't fucked. They haven't really fooled around all that much. But maybe they both know it's that they haven't yet.
They've been sharing the couch since Stolas picked up on the whole "one bedroom apartment" deal. Sometimes they hold hands while they watch TV. The whole "sharing the couch' thing pretty much requires some cuddling, but it's not entirely a sharing the couch thing. It's hard to keep his hands off Stolas but in a pathetic, first crush kind of way that he'd make fun of if he hadn't spent five minutes certain that Stolas was going to die.
And he doesn't want to push. They are probably, inevitably going to get kinky about the current situation, but Blitzo wants it to be very clear that it's just kinky shit, nothing more than getting off to, "Oh, Blitzy, aren't you going to take advantage of me?" and not...not just fucking someone because you're cold and hungry and so fucking lonely. He loves playing with Stolas, every weird, fucked up game his perverted bird brain can come up with, and Blitzo is not going to let those royal assholes ruin that for them by letting Stolas think he's actually got to suck dick for his dinner.
And Stolas wearing his daughter's clothes and looking so lost and miserable is really not conducive to being horny. Worrying if it's really okay to leave Stolas in the apartment by himself has also been a major boner killer.
But they've gotten him his own clothes now--one of his few, reluctant trips out after coming to stay with Blitzo--and maybe he's never going to be as happy as he used to be, but every day he seems a little bit more like himself.
"I can stop being so fucking chivalrous if you want," Blitzo murmurs. "Whenever you want. No rush."
"What if it's...what if I'm..."
Blitzo can't stop the fond little laugh that slips out of him. "You remember the first time we fucked?"
"Yes." Stolas puts his hand over Blitzo's, holding Blitzo's arm against him. "Yes, of course. It was incredible."
"Yeah, and you'd never seen a dick before and I couldn't even spell cloaca."
"Can you spell it now?"
"B-I-R-D space P-U-S-S," Blitzo says and knows it's probably not going to happen now because hearing Stolas actually laugh again makes him tear up. "So if anything's, you know, different, I think we can figure it out. You know we do sex good," he adds despite the fear that's been gnawing at him since Stolas stopped wanting him to come over and then told him he'd never have to touch him again.
Stolas sighs, comfortable in Blitzo's arms. He turns his head for one of those awkward kind of sideways, almost backwards kisses.
It doesn't go much further than that. Yet.
***
Sometimes Loona sleeps in and skips breakfast and sometimes she just wants to take dinner into her room and listen to music. Sometimes Stolas sits on the couch and picks at his food even before Loona sits down.
So Blitzo gets another chair. Because he doesn't stop Loona when she wants to eat in her room and listen to music and call her friends, and he's not going to stop Stolas if he still wants to sit on the couch--because there's been times when he only cooks for Loona and sets a plate in front of her chair before going out on a the balcony for a little while--but it's nice when they all eat together.
Loona stands up and starts picking up plates before Blitzo can. "Hey, you want to help me?" she asks Stolas.
"Yes?" Stolas says. 'If...if I can?"
"Go get ready for work or something," Loona tells Blitzo.
He decides not to entirely take the hint. He's always...a bit apprehensive, as Stolas would probably put it, when it's something Stolas probably wouldn't have done with just his hands.
"You want to hear something really embarrassing?" Loona says over the sound of running water. "I didn't know how to do any of this shit when Blitz adopted me. And I just felt so fucking stupid, you know?"
He can just barely hear Stolas answer that yes, he knows.
"And some assholes are like 'how hard is it?'" Loona continues, doing a reasonably good Moxxie impersonation. "And, like, there's all this shit that's actually really hard when you've never had to do it before and everybody's like 'it's easy, dumbass!'"
"It's simple," Stolas says. "Like recognizing a constellation."
"Huh?"
"It's not difficult to find a particular constellation," Stolas says. "If you've been told what it is. If you know where to look. If you can see the..." He takes a deep breath. "It's really very simple. If you know what to do."
"Exactly," Loona says. "So any of this shit, I fucking got you."
"Thank you," Stolas says. "Um...are you still..."
Blitzo decides it's time to take the hint and fuck off into the bathroom because he knows, even before Stolas manages to finish his sentence, that he's about to ask if Loona still talks to Octavia.
***
"Room and board?" Stolas suggests when Blitzo admits he might not actually have the budget for another employee.
"No," he says.
He owes Stolas a debt he's never going to be able to pay back. And even if he didn't, Blitzo refuses to have the kind of home where you have to fucking earn a place to sleep and something to eat.
Loona gets a paycheck. Not as much as she's worth, about what he'd pay anybody to answer the phones and deal with the front desk bullshit, and it's hers to save or squander or whatever the fuck she wants to do with it.
He didn't ask Moxxie for a fucking penny. Didn't even ask him to start doing the cooking although, holy shit, best deal of his fucking life, probably gained 10 pounds from all the fucking cheese and pasta. Should've charged Millie for taking his personal chef away except she probably saved him from an untimely death.
"i'll pay you," he says. "Just...might not be a lot."
"I'm hardly qualified for anything," Stolas says. "You don't have to make up a job for me, Blitz."
"Just...kind of seems like you're caught up on your soaps?" Blitzo says. "And Loona's been out in the field more, and nobody's really been keeping up with client files and invoices and if somebody doesn't get shit organized before the big Extermination Day rush, we are probably kind of fucked?"
Stolas nods. "Whatever I can do."
"And you can stay here as long as you want," Blitzo says. "Probably going to be bored out of your fucking mind since it's all the shit none of us want to do--except Moxxie but it's really starting to seem like kind of a self harm thing--so, you know, it's okay if you want to do something else."
"I don't think I know how to do that either," Stolas says.
***
"How come you didn't hold my hand when you gave me the office tour?" Millie asks.
"Because you were too busy busting my balls about this fabulous shithole I got us," Blitzo says.
He's trying not to hover after finishing the completely normal, totally unremarkable onboarding process and letting Moxxie take over with what sounds like an unending monologue on The History of IMP's Filing System and Strategies For Keeping Blitz From Fucking It Up. Moxxie's the only one who's actually attempted to pay attention to the accounts and shit, so he's probably got it covered, but Blitzo is on his feet and in the filing room the second he hears Stolas swear in the way that means "too much."
'What happened?" Blitzo asks.
Despite a few more comments about not treating Stolas like he's fragile, Loona's right behind him. "The fuck did you do to him?" she growls.
Stolas is holding one of his hands against his chest, looking stunned and almost frightened. "Hey," Blitzo says quietly, not paying any attention to whatever Moxxie's saying as he carefully takes Stolas' hand to look at it. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Stolas says. "I was going to file those and, as I was moving the papers..."
Blitzo's heart sinks when he sees the tiny cut on Stolas' index finger.
"What is it?" Stolas asks. "Why does it hurt so fucking much?"
"It's just a paper cut, your highness," Moxxie says. Stolas flinches, and Blitzo and Loona both tell Moxxie to watch his fucking mouth.
"It's a paper cut," Blitzo repeats.
"I've been wounded by a piece of paper," Stolas says, so fucking baffled by the stupid way they've found out he's not invulnerable that it breaks Blitzo's heart just a little bit more.
"Okay, we're going to lunch," Blitzo says, pulling Stolas to his feet.
"It's 9 am," says Moxxie, who really just does not know when to shut the fuck up.
"Brunch. Coffee run. Doesn't fucking matter. Stolas and I are going somewhere less uptight," Blitzo says.
"Where are we going?" Stolas asks when they're outside.
"I don't know," Blitzo says, still holding his hand as they just keep walking. "Just needed to get out of there before I kicked Moxxie in his tiny dick." Or before he has a fucking panic attack because Stolas can get hurt just as easily as anyone else now. He checks his jacket to make sure he has his gun.
"Could we go to Gluttony?" Stolas asks.
"Yeah, let's go to Gluttony," Blitzo says. Because Stolas, who used to tell him exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it, hardly asks for shit anymore. Blitzo has to interrogate him when he notices his feathers look weird or drag him to the store and watch to see what his eyes linger on. "You hungry?"
"I'd like to go to Mushnik's," Stolas says. "Just to look. If that's all right."
He shouldn't be surprised that it's a greenhouse, and he's not surprised by the way the staff's ears flatten when they recognize Stolas. But Stolas is quickly distracted, and Blitzo can be very convincing when he wants to let a few minimum wage employees know that he will personally maim them if Stolas gets even a dirty look thrown at him.
They're both very pointedly ignored after that, and Blitzo can just watch Stolas roam through the rows of plants, stopping to talk to practically every single one. He compliments some of them, asks others if they're all right--"You just don't like this light, do you?" He pets them and laughs at the ones who try to bite him--"You naughty little bastard!"--and he's faster at dodging acid than Blitzo would've thought.
"Oh, you poor thing," Stolas says when he finds one with wilted leaves and a drooping head. It perks up almost as soon as Stolas touches it and coos at it. "You've really got such a brilliant color, haven't you? Look," he carefully lifts up a leaf with just the tips of his claws, "look at this wonderful venation!"
"Uh huh," Blizto says.
"You're not even looking."
He's only looking at Stolas, who's the happiest he's been in too fucking long. It's a relief to know the whole plant thing has nothing to do with his lost powers--it's just Stolas, smiling and laughing and so fucking happy that Blitzo has to hug him while he's crouched down to talk to the saddest plant in the clearance section.
They leave with the sad looking plant with the wonderful venation "for the office." It's for "the office" because Stolas won't let him buy it for him, and it's not worth arguing about or ruining Stolas' mood.
Stolas carries the plant in one arm and holds Blitzo's hand, and it's looking like this is going to be the first actually good day until someone shouts, "Fuck you, Stolas!" and throws a cup at the back of his head. Soda splashes onto them both, most of it on Stolas. Which only makes Blitzo angrier.
Stolas freezes and somebody else calls him an imp-sucking shitbag. He looks down at the plant, as if he's checking to make sure it's all right, while soda drips off his feathers.
And then, while Blitzo is still trying to figure out where to aim the shot and decide who to shoot first, Stolas raises his middle finger and suggests the asshole can do something unspeakably heinous and physically implausible to their own mother. The entire street is silent except for the sound of improvised projectiles falling out of horrified hands by the time Stolas says, "Oh, wait, I already did. Last night. While your father watched."
"Um...you're just saying that in a 'your mom' way, right?"
Blitzo keeps his gun trained on the voice, shielding Stolas as much as he can. "Don't start too much shit," he says quietly. Most of the assholes started backing away when Stolas got to the teeth thing, and Blitzo can probably scare off most of the looky-loos, but he doesn't know how many friends the original asshole has. He can handle a couple of assholes solo, but only so many.
And Stolas has a paper cut. He can be hurt in all the ways Blitzo can, maybe even more--imps are sturdy fuckers.
"You didn't actually...my mom's okay, right?" the voice asks.
Stolas fucking cackles. It's the most poison apple, No Mr. Bond I Expect You To Die bullshit, just the most cliched evil laugh that gives Blitzo goosebumps and makes his spines (and something else) stand on end.
He slaps the crystal and drags Stolas back into the apartment and onto the floor so he can kiss him. They only stop long enough for Stolas to put the plant on the balcony, and Blitzo quickly pulls him back into another long, desperate kiss before hauling Stolas on top of him.
"Ride me," Blitzo says and smacks his ass more carefully than he activated the Asmodean crystal.
Stolas grinds against him, and Blitzo puts his claws on the feathered thighs that squeeze his body--he doesn't dig his claws in like he used to, and Stolas doesn't nearly crush him.
"Oh," Stolas sighs, and Blitzo can tell from the way he moves his hips and his knees that he's realized he doesn't have to be careful.
Stolas looks at him, head tilted, eyes darting over Blitzo's jacket. Blitzo shakes his head slightly--clothes are staying on just like Stolas is staying on his dick until he's done.
There you are he thinks as he watches Stolas cum on top of him, eyes and beak wide as he loudly, shamelessly moans, his hips going still for just a moment before he thrashes against Blitzo's cock again.
And then he slumps, his hands tightening and then relaxing over Blitzo's as a second, deeper groan falls out of him. "Oh fuck..." When he blinks, his pupils are still there.
"Told you," Blitzo says.
"Did you...?" Stolas shifts on top of him, answering his own question as he squirms against Blitzo's still hard dick.
"Whatever you want," Blitzo says.
When they finally get back to the office, Stolas obviously wearing different clothes with damp feathers, Millie gives him a huge grin and two thumbs up; Moxxie and Loona glare at him.
"Oh, Blitz," Stolas says. "We forgot Beignet."
"We can bring it tomorrow," Blitzo says even though he's kind of hoping to keep "forgetting" until it's Stolas'.
"I don't want to leave her on the balcony," Stolas says, reaching up and pulling his hands across the air before Blitzo can tell him he'll just pop back and get it.
Stolas' fists clench and he turns and walks into the filing room without looking at any of them.
Blitzo goes to move the plant before going to check on him. He knows Stolas is going to be even more upset if he's worried about Beignet.
***
It's just them, possibly for most of the weekend. "Huge hound party," Loona tells him excitedly. "Tex says I can crash there. Says it's a total rager."
"No boys," Blitzo says.
Loona rolls her eyes, clearly laughing at him. "Okay, Dad, no boys."
"No anybody!"
She knows she can call if she needs anything, no matter how late it is, but he tells her anyway.
Just them--and Beignet because Stolas didn't want to leave her alone in the office over the weekend, and Blitzo is kind of hoping that by Sunday the whole "for the office" thing will be forgotten or he'll be able to convince Stolas that lugging her back and forth is stressful or something and she can just be Stolas' pet, and he's kind of kicking himself for not thinking of getting Stolas some plants sooner. He'd almost be jealous of a stupid plant if he didn't love watching Stolas dote on her and hearing him talk to her while he works (and it is fucking fantastic to see Moxxie get a taste of his own medicine after he asks Stolas what exactly makes Beignet a "she" and it's even better to see how enthusiastically Stolas explains).
Blitzo hums to himself as he starts dinner. "Whatever you want, Blitz" isn't exactly what he wanted to hear, but it's also not really that different.
And work's going pretty well. Stolas has somehow managed to unfuck most of the client files, and next week he'll start on the invoices. He can't type for shit, but he takes better dictation than Moxxie and unlike Moxxie he actually laughs at the taking dictation jokes, so the most recent client profiles have been in Stolas' fancy handwriting.
They'll eat and maybe watch a movie. Maybe at some point this weekend he can convince Stolas to go out. Just something simple, something so he's not just either at work or at home.
Stolas' hand stretches up, fingers turning in the way that means he's forgotten again.
"Fuck!"
Blitzo hears the sound of a couch cushion being hit and then hit again, harder. It's a kind of anger that's so unlike Stolas that he hurries over.
"Fucking damn it!"
Blitzo pulls one of Stolas' hands away from his face; the other hand is still a tight fist on the cushion beside him. "You want me to get you something?"
"No, I don't want you to get me something," Stolas snaps. "I want my fucking magic back."
"Okay," Blitzo says. He's felt this anger himself, at himself, but he still doesn't really know what to do. He's never seen Stolas actually furious before. "But you know, I'm already up, so if there's anything, uh, I can grab?"
"Leave me alone," Stolas says and Blitzo doesn't because he also knows the way the anger just leaves Stolas' face and what's probably coming next. "How do you all fucking exist like this?" Stolas looks at his hands. His fingers are still long and slender, his skin is still the same flawless black. "I wish they killed me."
"Stolas..."
"They should have just killed me. That would have been so much better."
Sometimes it's the simplest thing in the realm to take care of Stolas--to make sure he actually eats, to preen his feathers, to try to anticipate what he wants before he has to face what he can't do anymore. But sometimes it's so fucking hard, so Blitzo doesn't have to energy to stop himself from saying, "You should've kept your beak shut."
"What?" Stolas asks.
"Nothing," Blitzo says, but it's too late. It's a "What the fuck did you just say" what and not a "Sorry I didn't hear that" what.
"They were going to kill you," Stolas says. "They were killing you--I barely even made it in time."
Blitzo shrugs. "I mean...if we're talking about what would be better..."
Stolas is crying now. It's the first time Blitzo has seen him cry since it happened. He doesn't know if it's actually the first time or if he's been able to hide it. Maybe, before Blitzo offered him a job, Stolas would just wait until he was alone in the apartment. Maybe while Blitzo was at the office, wondering if he was okay, Stolas was sobbing like he is now.
"Look, it just..." Another belated realization: definitely don't admit the universe might be better off without you to the dumbass who gave up everything to save your worthless life. Which, you know, obviously he appreciated. He just...
Just once, Blitzo'd really like to love someone like this without ruining them.
"I didn't want you to get hurt," he says. "I never wanted you to get hurt, Stolas."
"How are you this fucking stupid?" Stolas asks.
"Years of practice," Blitzo says, his throat tight, tears coming to his own eyes--it's still an automatic response from an old routine. The kind of shit you were pretty much obligated to do as a duo act.
"Sorry," he says when Stolas doesn't say anything. He sits beside him on the couch and pulls Stolas into his lap. "I'm sorry."
"Fuck you," Stolas says, still crying. "I'd do it again. I'd do all of it again."
Blitzo holds Stolas in his lap, crying himself as Stolas sobs in his arms. It's not the right time to ask how much of all of it he's talking about. It'll never be the right time--Blitzo'd do all of it with him, except he wouldn't pull his hand away and he'd come inside to talk or whatever and he wouldn't pretend he didn't mean it when he said he'd stay.
He should probably regret asking to borrow the book, but he just fucking doesn't. He doesn't regret the arrangement or a single full moon night he spent with Stolas--just the ones where he took the out.
But if he gets his hands on whoever the fuck turned him in, he is going to make them fucking suffer.
"How the fuck am I going to do this?" Stolas asks.
"I don't know," Blitzo tells him. Because sometimes he still wakes up in a cold sweat after dreaming of green flames. Because it was his fault and for some stupid fucking reason he survived. Because he's got to live with the fact that he ruined Fizz and now he's ruined Stolas, and now he's got to live with the fact that sometimes that's how he thinks about two of the most amazing demons he's ever known.
"I was thinking we'd make dinner," Blitzo says. "Maybe watch a movie or something. Maybe be real old and boring and have an early night."
"What about--"
"You ever been to the library?"
Stolas stares at him. "What? No? Blitz, what about--"
"So maybe tomorrow we go to the library," Blitzo says. "And then...just have to figure out Sunday before it's back to work." He reaches up to stroke Stolas' cheek. "So...dinner?"
Stolas nods and Blitzo kisses him lightly on the beak before lifting his weightless body off his lap and gently setting him back down on the couch. Stolas' feathers rise slightly, like he's happy to be treated so carefully.
"I'm sorry," Stolas says.
"For what?" Blitzo asks.
"For what I said about..." He sighs. "Nearly everything I've said, I suppose. You've been so very generous, and I've...I don't even know what I am any more."
"You're Stolas," Blitzo says. He's not ready to tell him what he is to him, and Stolas is so much more than that anyway. "You're just you."
Stolas rolls his eyes--it's even more dramatic with the way he looks now. "Oh, fucking thank you, Blitz, that's so very helpful!"
There you are Blitzo thinks, grinning because even though Stolas is different now, he's still himself.
"See?" he says, standing on the tips of his hooves so he can hold Stolas' face in his hands. "Exactly what I'm talking about."
Stolas' eyes are scanning his face. He looks like he's about to apologize again, so Blitzo asks, "Can I get you something?"
"Would you...would you bring me a cup of tea?" Stolas asks, and he smiles at Blitzo when he takes the mug and holds it in both hands.