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Helluva Boss

Care

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

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"Um... What are you littler ones doing here?"

Stolas tugged his robe a little closer around his body, standing on the front steps of his mansion, though he felt the yawning gape of it even more so than usual to his back. It didn't feel right, not without Octavia being there, but that was just why he had invited Blitz to come by the night before the full moon. He had thought that the imp might have appreciated the quiet, after complaining that Loona, as much as Blitz clearly adored her, had been playing her music "extra loud" lately.

That was why he was more surprised than ever to find the imps in Blitz' employ, Moxxie and Millie, standing on his step, a smile on Millie's face while Moxxie appeared more nervous than anything else. Stolas thought that, after so much time, they would have relaxed a little more around him, but some things, he supposed, could not be rushed.

"Here you go, your highness."

Millie grinned as she handed the Grimoire back to him, Moxxie tugging at his collar and clearing his throat.

"All as wanted, though we know we're a day earlier," he said, lamely. "It's not as if we can head out on any missions with things as they are and, well, Blitz said it would be best back in your hands."

Stolas blinked. Ironically, owlishly.

"Back in my hands? No missions? I thought business was good at IMP these days though? Blitz was only saying the other week how you had just completed your thousandth mission - quite an achievement, I must say! I extend my congratulations to you too, of course, for it was surely your hard work that aided the company in reaching such a lofty goal."

Stolas forced himself to be quiet, his own nerves - where was Blitz? - getting the better of him, though a soft laugh didn't quite sound right slipping from his beak. Millie's smile faded, Moxxie's head tilting. Not for the first time, the owl demon pushed down the frustration coiling and twisting in his chest. Why wouldn't anyone say anything plainly? So many tiny things were conveyed with body language and, frankly, it was something that Stolas was not as skilled at as he might have liked when it came to imps. It was hard to learn after a lifetime of them skirting around him, staying out of sight and out of mind, even if he would have been quite happy, indeed, to sit and have a conversation with them.

The owl minutely shook his head. He had to still his thoughts there, rambling even in his mind. It was a bad habit of his.

"Oh, perhaps the message did not make it to you, my apologies, your highness..." Moxxie cleared his throat. "Blitz is unfortunately unwell. He said he texted you?"

Stolas shook his head, heart sinking.

"Oh, no, how terrible... Is it bad? I have some medicines here that could help, or perhaps he should see a doctor..."

His heart beat too quickly, worry coursing through him, but Moxxie was already shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, your highness, he's already refused all medical attention, as usual. It's kind of how he is, something about not trusting doctors and nurses and all their needles or something."

"I think he has a needle phobia," Millie chimed in, though her tone was sympathetic rather than teasing. "Poor Blitz, he doesn't like to admit things like that. Don't worry, prince, we set him up with his horse blankets and that horse film he likes and...I don't know, some drink he asked us for in his favourite horse mug. There's something of a theme going on there..."

She chuckled and shook her head, though her smile was gentle.

"Maybe you could coax him to take some medicine though, prince?" She suggested, trying and failing to hide the twinkle in her eye. "He's home, of course... But he's sure as the nine rings not going to listen to any of us."

Stolas smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

"And you believe that I will have more luck than you in convincing our invalid that he needs to...rest and recover?"

Moxxie winced.

"Ah, yes...your highness, when you put it like that... Oh, crumbs, he is a handful, but, yes, he might just listen to you."

"And, if not," Millie added, eyes sparkling with mischief, "can't you just use some of your super-prince magic to, maybe, pin him to the bed or something?"

She waggled her fingers as if that was an accurate representation of what Stolas' magic was and the demon chuckled, despite his rising worry for Blitz.

"Well, I will make sure the Grimoire is kept safe in the meantime - and I will see what I can do about dear Blitzy too."

His words might have been prim and proper, but the true depth of the owl's worry was hidden behind his eyes, how the clipped nature of his words did not reach his upper set of red eyes in particular. The imps might have seen through it, of course, but he had no worry that either of them would use it against him, which was a lot more than what he could say about those he had been forced to interact with in royal and noble circles. They were tiring, insufferable even, but he could not put that part of his life off forever either.

Blitzy, however, was far more important than attending any meeting or party. Unless it came from Lucifer himself, it could always be put off for another time.

The imps left, leaving Stolas to wonder at what he should wear. It didn't seem quite right to turn up in his robe, especially if Blitz' daughter was there, though any formal attire was not right either. He settled, as quickly as possible, on a loose, black T-shirt that hung down over his hips and a pair of shorts, leaving his long legs exposed. With all the tightly fitted clothing he had had to wear in the past, Stolas quite often found himself loathe to wear too much when given the choice. That was why he usually defaulted to his robe, but it was not always appropriate.

"Right..." He settled himself, scooping the required items, with magic, of course, into a small, black bag with one of his favourite constellations on the front that could be carried over one shoulder. "Medicine, Grimoire, tea... Snacks?"

He didn't honestly know what Blitzy would like when he was sick, but Stolas thought that was something that could be sorted when he got there. It was not as if he could not go out to fetch Blitz something or simply have it sent to him via a portal. Magic was a useful thing, it had to be said.

Setting the portal, he swept his hand to the side to open it, revealing the soft, simple confines of Blitz' apartment on the other side. A simple affair with two bedrooms and a small living area, the living room blending into a tight kitchenette, it was not somewhere that Stolas had been many times before, though mainly because the imp tried to keep him out. The reasoning behind that was too complicated for Stolas to even begin unpacking right then and there.

"Blitz?"

With the bag in hand, he cast his gaze around, although the imp in question was not on the sofa, even though the horse blanket looked to have slipped off a body there. Cautiously, Stolas moved through the flat, though he had to duck a little to make sure his head did not knock against the ceiling or the light fixture, a bare bulb swinging in the kitchen where it had not been replaced with a surrounding fitting.

It would have been rude to stalk into Blitz' bedroom like it was his own home, but it was easy enough to choose the bedroom door that was not covered in warning signs and other evidence of Loona as Blitz'. Knocking lightly, Stolas fanned his tail feathers out unhappily, though no answer was forthcoming.

"Blitz? Blitz, it's me... Stolas?"

He felt rather foolish saying his name aloud, as if Blitzy would not know who was there, though no answer came. Feeling as if he was invading Blitz' privacy in a way that could not be okay, he pushed open the door gently, hiding behind the door for as long as possible before stepping inside.

"Blitz?"

His expression crumpled. For there was his imp on the bed, his tail twisted around his ankle as if he was in pain, his face hard and tense with a tight line at the corner of his jaw. A blanket half covered his body, though Blitz looked too small and too frail in that moment, the pillow tucked under his horns so that he could, at least, rest his head comfortably. Even though he could not have been unwell for all that long, he appeared small and weak, not his usual brash self, though Blitz somehow still had a presence about him, normally, when asleep.

All that was gone as Stolas folded to his knees, as quietly as possible, a twist of guilt pulling at him. Maybe he shouldn't disturb the imp, but Blitz hardly looked comfortable there, not with the pain crossing his temples, as if there was a dull throbbing there that had not been brought to light yet.

Gently, so gently that it was as if he was afraid of hurting Blitz from one small action alone, he stroked the imp's face, brushing the tip of a finger across his cheek. Under his touch, Blitz stirred, sleeping lightly even then.

"Oh, Blitzy..."

The imp blinked, half rolling over in bed. Blearily, he lifted his hand as if the late afternoon light was too much, even in the Pride ring.

"Uh..." He slurred, tongue seeming thick and heavy in his mouth. "Ssstolas? What are you...doing here?"

"Shush, you don't have to get up, Blitz," Stolas said, as soothingly as he could, though he almost didn't want to touch Blitz, worrying that it would be too much. "Goodness, Blitz... You're burning up... I brought you some medicine, but maybe a cool towel would help too?"

The imp frowned and Stolas drew back a little, heart beating too quickly as the imp struggled to sit up. Even after being sick for what the demon assumed was no more than a day, he seemed so much frailer than before, his ribcage showing more, even though it was probably just dehydration and his current position.

"Stolas," Blitz said a little more clearly, though his throat rasping didn't help all that much. "You...don't have to be...here... Didn't Moxxie..."

"Oh, yes, of course, the book is fine, don't worry about that, Blitz," Stolas said, quick to reassure him. "Moxxie and Millie gave it back to me, while you're unwell, but I'm more worried about you right now, Blitz. Can I get you anything? Maybe some soup? You seem to have a fever..."

Blitz grumbled, rubbing the back of his hand across his face, the bedsheets falling a little lower, revealing the grey trousers he was wearing, a little wrinkled from being in bed for so long.

"Don't need help, Stolas," he said, though it was clearly still a struggle for him to get out a full sentence. "I'm not a child... Go home and see your daughter."

Stolas hooted softly, caressing Blitz' face, very gently, with his hand.

"I imagine she would say the same thing if I turned up right now - I believe she is studying with friends. She doesn't need me there. You need help more, Blitz, even if it's just someone to make sure you're okay while you take the time to rest."

Blitz looked as if he was about to protest, but whatever indignant energy he'd been feeding on up to that point slipped through the cracks, the imp slumping back to the bed with a groan.

"Fine..." He muttered, eyes half-closed again already. "Just Hell-flu, you know...not that bad. Pass in a few...days..."

Blitz yawned, eyes closing all the way, turning his face back to the pillows.

"Have you taken any medicine, Blitz?"

The imp grimaced, though didn't open his eyes.

"No... Can't swallow it. My throat's really...sore."

"Ah, of course."

Well, that was one thing that Stolas could help with: magic wasn't just for grand feats, after all. Opening a portal, he reached through to the medicine cabinet back in his home, in his private bathroom, rifling through until he found what he was looking for.

"Ah... This will do, Blitz. Can you sit up a little more?"

Blinking at him, the imp really was in no state to push back, tail tucking more tightly around his ankle, though it was not as if he could do any more. He was usually so strong, so independent, that it was strange for Stolas to see him like that, even if the avian demon was the more powerful of them.

Still, Stolas set all of that aside. Their power differential was not something that could be helped, but he could be there for Blitz right then, to help him.

His arm slid around to Blitz' lower back, sitting the imp up, helping him to relax, to rest, shifting his weight and grumbling a bit, though his protests were half-hearted at best.

"Stols... Stolas... I'm...fine... C'mon..."

"It's alright, Blitz, just relax. Sit up. Here you go, drink this, I've put a water soluble medicine in it for Hell flu, it should help a little."

Of course, that was easier for Blitz to swallow than large, hard pills, though the imp took hard, big gulps from the glass that Stolas levitated up to him, though his fingers wrapped around it didn't do much at all. It was all the demon holding it for him, Blitz much weaker than he would have liked to have been.

The imp's tail tightened around his ankle, anchoring him there, as he finished the glass.

"Stols..."

"Shush, Blitz... Here, this will help your throat a little too. It has a mild numbing compound, a throat sweet that you suck. I know it's not as good as getting one of those delectably sweet coffees from that shop you love, but it is sweet, I think it's strawberry flavour."

Blitz clearly didn't like taking anything from the owl's hand, but he had to anyway, his lips parting only enough to take the red sweet from the owl's fingers. In typical form, as Stolas helped him lie back down, a quip leapt to his lips.

"What..." Blitz croaked, a little spark back in his yellow eyes. "No jokes...about sucking?"

Stolas laughed lightly.

"No, no, dear... I think that's more my forte than yours, even though you've always been a vigorous lover when it's come to delivering pleasure too. At least you sound a little more like yourself."

Blitz rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to mother hen me, Stolas..." Already, the imp sounded better, maybe the glass of water had done him more good than anything else, the medicine still needing a little while longer to work. "I'm fine here...on my own."

"I know I don't have to look after you, Blitzy, but I'm doing this because I want to. You don't have to do everything on your own."

That had been something that Stolas had learned too, long ago. That he didn't have to always focus on dealing with everything himself, as if there was nothing else there for him. He'd had good friends back then that he had been able to open up to, but Angelic weapons and territorial disputes between Hell's most powerful demons had taken then down, one by one.

He'd met Stella. He'd married Stella, a political alliance. And then everything had changed and he'd only had himself to rely on again, to do everything himself.

But he didn't have to let Blitz do that, not when he was there, when he was more than willing to help, day by day, regardless of what was required.

"Now, Blitz... I brought some chicken noodle soup over, I heard it was everything that people up on Earth liked to eat when they weren't feeling too well. Perhaps that would be a little more soothing than anything down here? But I'm more than happy to portal down to Wackdonalds for you too. Anything you want, Blitz, name it and it's yours."

The imp seemed to already be considering what he had said before, turning a little more into the pillow, his eyes a little narrower. It was not an expression that Stolas could read.

Was he trying too hard? Stolas drew back, laughing nervously, his shoulders hunched a little and his hands spread. He knew Blitz didn't like to be pressured, but just because Blitz was in bed, helpless to really do anything to stop him as he usually could, didn't mean that he could take free reign over him. If Blitz didn't really want help, that wasn't something that he could force on him, not beyond the medicine, which would, of course, help him get better more quickly.

"Of course, Blitz, if you'd rather be alone, I'll just check back in on you in a bit, I have plenty more medicine, but you have to wait four hours before taking another does. Or I could just leave it here for you, the next few doses. I mean, I wouldn't leave you without it, or without food, I just want you to get better as quickly as possible..."

He stumbled to a halt, sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. He always did too much, rushed in headlong...

"Stolas?"

"Yes, Blitz?"

He couldn't keep the hope out of his voice, even though heat had already leapt to his cheeks, flushing deeply beneath the feathers. They were even a little ruffled around his neck and shoulders, thicker and fluffier, though embarrassment made him want to hunch into himself.

"Stay..."

The imp couldn't look up at him, his shoulders rounded, tension lining his body. Yet that one word helped a little, lifted Stolas' heart a little more. Maybe he was doing the right thing, after all.

"Anything you want, Blitz," he said gently, resting his hand over the imp's, where it lay on the bed, though he kept his touch brief, respectful. "Would you like some soup?"

Evidently, it was better to keep his questions simple, for the imp's throat still had to be hurting, as hoarse as he'd been, even when he'd been trying to be himself. Blitz nodded, though Stolas could not have been quite sure if there was a ghost of a smile around the imp's lips. Perhaps he was imagining it, though he didn't want to lose all hope.

"Of course, Blitz, I'll get that for you right away."

He was no servant, yet he scurried to make things better for Blitz as soon as he could. Loona had to be out, evidently, which was just as well because no one wanted to catch Hell flu if they could at all avoid it.

It was difficult to move around Blitz' apartment when the ceiling was so much lower than what he was used to, but he made it work, ducking and moving carefully. He levitated the carton of soup from his bag, homemade by his servants, though he would have willingly made it himself for Blitz if he had had the time - or if he had known, a little earlier, that Blitz was unwell. But things were as they were and he could only do his best for Blitz at that time. It was most likely better and more nourishing than the food than he usually saw Blitz eating at the obvious: fast and rarely fresh.

The kitchen was small, functional, enough to survive on and no more than that. But Stolas managed to find a saucepan and heat up the carton of fresh soup, made with a rich broth, in no time at all. Along with it, he found and washed up a fresh glass for Blitz, though he filled it magically with water, not completely trusting what came out of the taps there. It was not that it was not clean, but Stolas just wanted Blitz to have the best.

He didn't have a tray with which to take the food and drink, the soup steaming in a bowl with a chip in the rim, but he simply used his magic to levitate it back through again. He knocked lightly on the door with his knuckles before slipping into the bedroom, more out of politeness than anything else, for Blitz knew he was coming back.

"Here it is, Blitz, I hope it won't be too hot for you!"

The imp, to his surprise, was already looking a little better, sitting up in bed with his back to the lightly rickety headboard, the tip of his pointed tail poking out from under the blanket. A yellow horse plush toy with a brown nose and darker legs had appeared as if from nowhere, pressed to Blitz' chest as he held him there.

"Ah..." Blitz worked his mouth a little, a strange expression crossing his face. "Thanks... Thanks, Stolas. Really, you didn't have to do that."

Stolas smiled, gently setting the bowl and the glass of fresh water on the small bedside table next to the bed, though he didn't quite like how that rocked a little too. Maybe a touch of magic would level it up nicely, just a little thing he could do for Blitz, one thing that he would not realise was Stolas' doing.

"I wanted to help, darling."

His tone softened, though the owl demon looked back and forth, as if he was not quite sure where to set himself down. That time, Blitz definitely smiled.

"You can sit on the bed, birdbrain. I do feel more imp again after that medicine, damn... What the Hell was in that?"

Stolas laughed lightly, perching on the bed, as if he was trying not to make too much of an impression in it.

"Oh! I'm so glad it helped - and you sound so much more like yourself again too! I'll leave some of the medicine with you too, in case you ever come down with Hell flu again, though I very much hope that will not be the case."

Blitz chuckled, though remained a little throatier than usual. That was to be expected, but Stolas yearned to soothe it away with magic. That, however, was something where magic needed to be much finer-tuned and he simply did not have the knowledge of imp biology to assist there. Wounds and obvious breaks in bones were one thing - but illnesses that worked through the organs more insidiously, even if they were just a particularly nasty virus, were something different altogether.

Blitz struggled a bit with the soup, tucking his horse toy in closer to his chest, though Stolas chose not to comment on how adorable it was. That might have been one thing that had Blitz kicking him out. But it really was so cute to see him like that, softening, showing a different side, even if it, initially, had been all against Blitz' will. He had to be careful of that, for it was hardly the sort of thing that Stolas would have wanted to take advantage of. Even though the avian demon would have not minded one bit of Blitz had been the one to take advantage of him...

Focus!

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He shook himself faintly, feathers fluffing up around his neck, though he strained to not appear too flustered, letting out an embarrassed laugh.

"Ah, Blitz... Blitzy..." He didn't know what name to use, rubbing the back of his neck, smoothing his feathers down in what he hoped was a discreet manner. "I don't mean to suggest that you cannot do it for yourself...but would you like some help with the soup?"

Blitz raised an eyebrow.

"Don't pretend like you didn't think of something dirty right then. I'm surprised it didn't fall out of your beak like your Satan damned tongue when you go down on me."

Stolas' beak parted, the lower part dropping, stuttering and stumbling over his words

"I can manage the soup, birdbrain," Blitz said, though Stolas still caught his subtle smirk. "But...maybe you could sit here a while? With me?"

The imp refused to look at him, even as a smile pulled at the corner of Stolas' beak. If it had been a normal owl's beak, outside Hell, he would not have been able to smile as he did, but there was something about the imp that he just couldn't put his finger on that had him smiling more and more and more.

"Of course, Blitz. Maybe there's something you'd like to watch?"

Blitz tilted his head, sitting up high enough in bed so that he could hold the cooling bowl of soup with one hand (it helped that heat did not affect imps as much, being in Hell and all) and the spoon with another. Stolas took note of how the imp side-eyed him, always keeping the demon in the corner of his gaze. Was that because the imp was uncomfortable around him or for some other reason? Perhaps it was not his place to say...

"Hm... There's a new show about Hell horses. Not as good as living world horses, but..."

Blitz shrugged awkwardly, trying not to jostle his soup too much, but Stolas grinned, his beak stretching into the widest of smiles.

"Of course, Blitz! What's the name? I'll look for it."

"Blitzy... It's fine."

Stolas blinked, in the process of magicking up a screen for the wall, for Blitz was not flush enough with cash (or with any reason to have) to have a TV in his bedroom.

"Pardon?"

The imp shifted as if uncomfortable on the bed, his tail snaking back and forth under the sheets.

"It's..." Blitz grumbled, the white of his face warmer and darker than usual, at least to Stolas' eye. "It's okay. When you call me that. Like, not in public or anything, but...yeah...kinda weird...when you don't..."

Blitz busied himself with his soup, slurping obnoxiously as if to draw attention to something else, though not even that could stop the owl's beak from stretching into an even wider grin. Oh, it was so good when things came a shade more easily, as if a shroud had been lifted, revealing another layer of the imp.

"Oh! Oh, of course, Blitz... Blitzy, I just thought you didn't like it, so I was trying to be respectful. I'll use whatever you prefer."

It could have been an awkward moment, as he turned to pull the correct show up on the screen, using magic instead of a remote (although he would leave the TV there, of course, for Blitzy, making an excuse that he simply forgot to magic it away again), but it was not. The imp's tail brushed against his, a subtle touch and yet a meaningful one, as he fanned his own tail feathers out behind him.

Stolas shivered, though did his best not to jump or show that his heart was beating a little more quickly, as if an electric charge had been shocked into the air between them. Just how was it that Blitz could call on that within him, time after time again? The imp just had something about him, even when he was sick, that made Stolas feel weak at the knees.

"Okay... Is that the one, Blitzy?"

He liked the way that Blitz' nickname felt in his mouth, let loose from his tongue so very sweetly, like the breath of a moment or even a kiss. But he'd never had the chance to kiss Blitz that tenderly, their kisses hard and fast, rippling with passion as they tumbled into bed together.

His name kissing his lips would have to suffice.

The imp graced him with a shaky smile, clearly still a little on the queasy side.

"Yeah, that's the one, birdy... Heh, you're...better than a remote."

Stolas frowned, reaching over to fluff up the pillows behind Blitz, the show starting behind him, though he wasn't all that concerned with it anymore, even if it would be lovely to share in something that Blitz enjoyed so much. The imp looked a little paler again, his eyes out of focus, though his bowl of soup, Stolas was glad to see, was half-empty. At least he had managed to get something into him.

"Blitz? Are you okay?" Stolas reached for him, taking the bowl, though he did not move it far away. "You look a little wan again, dear, is there anything I can do?"

Blitz groaned and allowed him to take the spoon away too, setting them on the bedside table. It creaked a little as they jostled it, rickety at best.

"Urf... Yeah... A little..."

The imp tucked his tail back around himself, retreating a little, though Stolas allowed it. He knew he was not always at his best when he was under the weather, so there was little reason to consider anything untoward was at play when it was Blitz who was struggling for words.

"Don't worry, Blitzy, I'll look after you." Without thinking, the owl leaned forward, kissing him impulsively on his forehead, thumb stroking his cheek. "If there's anything you need, water, more soup, medicine, be sure to let me know and I will fetch it for you immediately. Relax, my little imp, and just watch the show. I really hope you will feel better very soon."

The soothing flow of his words, too much for a true two-way conversation, seemed to lull Blitz a little as the imp pushed back against the plush pillows that Stolas had fluffed up for him, infused with a little magic so that they were more comfortable than they normally were. He nodded faintly and Stolas perched on the other side of the bed from him, allowing him a respectful amount of space, even though it was not something that was usually present between him and Blitz. Frankly, they were both pretty good at invading each other's personal space. Boundaries? What were those?

But perhaps, in their own way, they were good at showing just how one could build boundaries too. It had been talking with Blitz and seeing how he interacted with his employees, those small, simple things in life that a demon of his so-called noble standing did not always get to experience, that showed him a little more about how boundaries could be placed. Most were healthy, some were unhealthy, but they were all a learning experience.

Stolas shook himself, feathers a little fluffed up. Ah, he should have been concentrating on Blitzy's show, shouldn't he? But he was sure his lovely imp would not mind either way, settled back on the pillows as he was.

"Blitz?"

Stolas frowned once more, though the imp half-turned from him, slipping down a little against the pillows.

"Are you cold? I thought I saw you shiver, though I do not mean to coddle you... I could fetch you another blanket if you're cold?"

Blitz glanced at him, his expression unreadable. That was not uncommon.

"Come here."

His voice was so small, for once so quiet, that he had to lean in closer to hear it, his upper pair of red eyes squinting.

"Come again, Blitzy? I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said..." Blitz took a breath, seeming to steady himself. "Come here."

He patted the bed next to him, showing the owl demon exactly what he meant, though Stolas' feathers fluffed up even more, confusion riddling his gaze. He'd always been a bit too expressive around Blitz, the imp stripping the concealment from him, everything that he had built up over a millennia of hiding his true feelings and emotions from the world around him.

Especially Stella. She'd never be around him if he was unwell, but he distinctly remembered taking care of her several times when she had been taken ill. It had been met with the usual vitriol, of course, but...he'd thought, even then, that he had been doing a good thing. It was one thing that Stolas could not and did not regret.

But to be asked to come closer... It was all Stolas could do not to blush furiously with excitement, his feathers thicker around his neck than they usually were, some sticking up in odd directions. He could not say no, letting out a low "hoot" of assent, before settling carefully onto the bed next to Blitz. Still, he made sure there was a little space between them, his long, black legs hanging off the end of the imp-sized bed, not wanting to crowd Blitz.

That, however, proved to be difficult. Considering that the bed was only a small double, suited to the size of the room, and that Blitz shuffled in closer to him, resting his head on Stolas' chest.

The owl burst out a hoot, the imp against him trembling with laughter, his tail snaking back and forth in mirth that Blitz did not bother to conceal.

"Seriously, birdbrain?" He cackled lowly, pressing in closer, flinging an arm over Stolas' chest. "Is it that weird?"

"Um, well... Uh, yes, Blitzy, rather so for you, though I do not mind the closeness at all, my darling..."

And he did not. How could he when the imp's body fitted so sweetly in against him, as if they had been made for one another? Stolas shook the thought off as soon as it appeared, but their attention was not on the show at all but on each other, the feel of the imp finding his place against him, settling softly into his feathers, all the owl could think about.

But that was okay took. It was all about what Blitzy needed and, quite honestly, Stolas was touched by the more vulnerable side he was showing. It was as if it had come out then, while Blitz could only rely on him, yet it was such a tentative crack in Blitz' armour that Stolas resolved not to bully his way through, even if such a haste would only be born from enthusiasm, nothing untoward. It would not have been kind to Blitz.

"Mmm..." Blitz grunted, eyes half-closed, half looking at the TV and half letting his vision be impaired by the owl's soft, grey feathers, the thick floof of his chest. "You smell...like lavender again. And you're warm."

Stolas smiled, his fingers tracing around the base of Blitz' horns, softly soothing, inviting him to come even closer, if he wanted to.

"Is that why you wanted it?" He couldn't resist a chuckle, lacing his long fingers lazily between the spines on the back of Blitz' head, so familiar to him after so many full moon nights spent together. "I certainly do not mind supplying a little body heat, Blitz."

It helped a little that Stolas' black shirt, a plain one for his collection, had a V-neck, allowing the thicker ruff of his feathers to spill out. It was perfect, really, for Blitz, the imp's tail sliding out from the covers, finding the owl's leg and curling around. It made it so the blankets fell off Blitz a little bit more, though he had more than enough warmth from the owl's body to stay warm even without that.

The show picked up, showing a herd of Hell horses galloping, as one, across the plains of Wrath. Even after seeing it for himself, many years ago, it still took Stolas' breath away.

"I see why you enjoy the company of horses so much, Blitz," the owl breathed, his fingers circling, soothing, bringing a prickle of a shiver that was not from the cold to the imp's body. "They truly are magnificent. If you like, I could take you, one day, to see the cold-blooded beasts of Sloth, the ones that forage through the snow. They are quite savage creatures, yet another strain of Hell horse that brings another variety to the breed."

"Mmmhmm..." Blitz mumbled into his chest, hiding his face. "Yeah... Sounds good, Stols..."

Stolas cocked his head, a smile tugging at his beak.

"Are you falling asleep, Blitzy? Don't worry, you can sleep if you like."

The imp could do absolutely anything he liked, as long as the owl was there with him, or even if the owl was not there. For there was not a thing in Hell (or the living world too, for that matter) that had ever stopped the daring Blitz from going after exactly what he wanted. What Stolas meant more there, in the fumbled turning of his ever so slightly flustered mind, was that he would give everything he could to Blitz, always, as long as he was there to do so.

But the imp clearly had other things on his mind, his hand travelling lower from where it had been wrapped around the owl's body, stroking his stomach, down to the waistband of his trousers. They were a somewhat smarter pair, though form-fitting, and Stolas pulled back a little, his tail feathers flicking in confusion.

"Blitzy? What are you doing?"

The imp's tail twitched, the spade-shaped tip pointing up with a tremor.

"Unff... What's it look like, feathers?" He grunted, though there was a spark in his eye, a sleepy one, but one that Stolas recognised. "You're being too nice to me... Can't a guy return the favour?"

His hand, that time, managed to get down into the owl's pants, worming its way insistently between his thighs, though Blitz did not laugh that time at the startled hoot that burst from Stolas' beak. The owl, however, was too quick for him, squirming away even as prickling heat crawled through his body, a lurch in the pit of his stomach that begged him, especially then, to let the imp do whatever he wanted to him.

"No, Blitzy," Stolas chuckled, bringing the hand that Blitz had been trying to tease him with to his lips and kissing it lightly, respectfully. "If you still want to enjoy ourselves together when you are once again well, I will of course take you up on your most delightful offer. Until then, I just want to see you resting up. Satan knows you've earned a rest. You cannot always be pushing yourself that hard, Blitzy... I worry about you."

The imp grumbled at being rebuffed, but, frankly, he did not have the energy to complain, not even to Stolas. He rested his chin on the owl's chest, looking up at him with a woeful look, so much so that that Stolas could not resist. There was very little that he seemed able to resist when it came to Blitz.

"Blitzy..."

He breathed, eyes locked with those gorgeous, powerful, yellow eyes that drew him down and down and down into their depths, his heart leaping, stuttering, doing all kinds of weird and wonderful things that he could not put into words. And, still, Blitz crawled closer, closing that tiny modicum of distance between them.

Maybe it was being vulnerable. Maybe it was Blitz being unwell. But that kiss, without the heat of lust behind it, seared through to Stolas' stomach, feeding the fire of his adoration - and something more that the owl had not even yet realised resided there. He kissed Blitz back passionately without hesitation, their tongues gently flickering up against one another, yet the kiss was longer and slower than others they had enjoyed.

In that moment, there was no rush. There was only the time between them, what passed there in Blitz' little bedroom with the Hell horse show on in the background. Blitz owed him nothing and yet Stolas yearned to give him everything, to show him through words and actions and soft moments together just how much he meant to him.

Grunting, Blitz broke the kiss, a little flushed and flustered, though he seemed reluctant to pull away.

"Unff... Sorry...Stols, going to get you sick like that, didn't think."

The owl didn't allow him to pull away, though it was not as if Blitz put up all that much of a fight either, slumping against him, their lips still close, so very close. It simply felt right to be there.

"I don't care, Blitzy..." He whispered against the imp's - his imp's - lips, sharing breath, Blitz' skin so very warm to the touch. "I don't care if you make me unwell... I've already had Hell flu this season, I shall be fine, don't worry. I only want to be here, with you."

And that moment was all that it needed to be, right then and forever, for no one was to tell just how things were to progress between them, whether their relationship would change. Neither knew what was building, but one moment of vulnerability, a gap in the door, could be enough for something to shift, a pebble to rumble free of a scree of loose rocks, beginning the avalanche.

They slept there, together, Stolas not wishing to leave Blitz alone while he was still "fucked up", as Blitz so eloquently put it, though he was unsure he would have gone if Blitzy had asked him to anyway. That the imp didn't ask him to leave was telling, very telling indeed.

Even more telling was the imp that showed up on his balcony a week later when Stolas was tucked up in bed with the worst Hell flu he had ever had (seriously, he did not have any inkling as to how Blitz had survived it in such fine form!). Coming with a care package in hand, a roll of his eyes and a "I told you so", all was as it should be, all right with their little corner of the world, down there in Hell.

Sometimes, all it took was a little care. And a beloved partner sitting close, reading to him out of an astronomy textbook. Stolen, admittedly, but the thought was there and the care most certainly was.

Stolas' heart brimmed over with warmth for the imp and the smile Blitzy gave him, there in his own bedroom, offered the same.