Blitzo awoke to a dark room. He was warm, comfortably so, despite the fact he was naked. For a moment, he forgot exactly why he was, until he remembered the previous night and the feathery body he was currently spooning. His torso was pressed against Stolas' back, arms and legs wrapped under and over his skinny frame. One hand was casually grasping onto chest fluff.

Ugh, what time is it? Blitzo asked internally. He blinked groggily and craned his neck over Stolas' sleeping form in an effort to find a clock. No such luck. Right, Stolas didn't have any digital clocks, only analog—the old-fashioned bastard. The only light in the room came from a beam of moonlight peeking through the mostly drawn curtains. Not enough to discern the time on a clock's face.

Phone, phone, Blitzo realized. He used the hand not pinned under his lover to search the bedsheets. He ended up finding his hellphone and discovered it to be about three a.m.

I should probably leave.

However, Blitzo didn't make any attempts to move. He slumped back against the mattress, hand once again back around Stolas' sleeping figure. He stared into the dark.

Blitzo didn't really want to leave. He wanted to stay here and spoon Stolas until he had to get up for work. He wanted a wave and a "Have a good day, Blitzy!" and maybe . . . maybe even a little goodbye kiss.

What the fuck am I talking about, Blitzo thought, flustered. He scratched a hand down his face, digging the tips of his claws into his skin just enough to sting. I'm acting like some lovesick fucking teenager! I'm not. Fucking dammit. It doesn't matter if Stolas likes me or not—

Stolas' coo disrupted Blitzo's thoughts. The prince shifted, stretching as he arched over and ended up with his torso much closer to Blitzo than before. Now with his chest to the ceiling and his hips twisted sideways (how that was comfortable, the imp didn't know), Stolas had his nearest arm slung behind his lover's neck, pulling them snugly against one another.

Blitzo blinked wide eyes. He couldn't help the light purr that started up in his chest. Despite the fact no one was the wiser, he still felt a blush creep up his neck.

Fuck, he had it bad. He could barely believe he cared about the horny bird at all, let alone enough to warrant the sort of reactions he was giving. But Stolas all snuggled up to him? Well, Blitzo didn't mind this at all. He wondered briefly if this was how Moxxie and Millie felt each night, embraced in a lover's arms.

The next thought that hit him was the only thing Stolas cares about is your dick. And holy fuck, that sent Blitzo's heart into his stomach where it shriveled and dissolved. He didn't want to lose the feeling of comfort that he'd just had a moment previous, but the reality had to hit again at some point.

Truthfully, Blitzo didn't want to lose this. This thing that he and Stolas were, pretending to be something more than just fuck buddies. The façade of Stolas' love for him. Blitzo subconsciously curled his fingers into the owl's flesh. Words from earlier that night echoed in his head.

He called me his baby, Blitzo sighed. But the real question was, was it just a simple flirty pet name or something more? Their aftercare last night had been particularly affectionate. Perhaps there was more to Stolas' affections than just craving a ride on his dick?

STOP, Blitzo snarled at himself. If he let himself get carried away in his thoughts, he'd lose another night to the wave that was his insecurities. Just fall back asleep, please.

Blitzo tucked his head against Stolas' ribs and breathed deeply, inhaling the prince's scent. That familiar aroma settled in his soul and cast a net of relaxation around him. A stray feather tickled under his jaw. He smiled.

"You've been rather quiet tonight, Blitzy," Stolas said as he traced a claw along one of the imp's large horns. They were out in the garden, laying beneath a large fruit tree. A plush blanket was spread under their bodies, and a modest spread of bread and wine sat before them. Blitzo was swirling his glass absentmindedly where he was leaning up against Stolas, and the prince himself was propped against the tree.

"Hmm," came Blitzo's quiet response. Stolas frowned; the imp had easily accepted the invitation to come over but had said little most of the night.

"Is something the matter?"

"It's nothing really."

Stolas shifted, removing the glass of wine from Blitzo's hand and setting it aside, then lightly grabbed the imp's chin and turned his head toward him. Blitzo rolled over with the motion without a fuss, more compliant than he had been in a while, and looked with wide eyes up at his lover.

"I can tell whatever you're thinking about is eating you up. What ever is the matter, my dear?" Stolas asked. He continued to hold Blitzo under the chin. Those yellow-and-red eyes blinked slowly, a deep emotion Stolas couldn't quite identify lurking just below the surface.

Blitzo sighed, sinking into Stolas' hand and allowing the prince to bear his weight. His large hands rested heavily on Stolas' chest, his legs kicked up behind him. His spaded tail flicked tiredly over the blanket.

"It's . . . you know how I told you yesterday's job was fine? Well, it wasn't. There was this whole fucking thing, and, and I saw my ex, and . . . well. I don't fuckin' know," Blitzo mumbled. His eyes flicked between Stolas and gazing off to the side. "Just dragged me, I guess."

Stolas blinked. "An ex?"

"Yeh." Blitzo must have seen something amusing about Stolas' expression because despite his mood, a smirk crept across his face. "Jealous?"

"N-no! I do not get jealous!" Stolas huffed with a ruffling of feathers. He pouted momentarily before getting back to the topic at hand. "Besides, that's—it's not about me." His feathers settled back down against his skin.

"Mmhmm, sure." Blitzo's smile vanished quickly, and the forlorn look returned to his face.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Blitzo shrugged weakly. "Not really." His gaze drifted to the side.

"Well, okay then, Blitzy. Just know you're always welcome to speak freely."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"It's just . . . she was my first real relationship, and I thought we were doing well. She even had my name tattooed on her," Blitzo began. His voice was wistful as he twirled a claw in Stolas' stomach feathers.

"O-oh? Wow, that's . . . quite a big step," the prince choked out. Something akin to inadequacy simmered in his belly. Little did he know, Blitzo was experiencing the same but much more intensely.

"I know it sounds bad, maybe, well—I don't know. I loved her—at the time; or, at least I thought I did—but as per fucking usual, she was actually just using me. So, I . . . fucked things up worse to spite her, and we split up on a really shitty note."

"'As usual'? Blitzy, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean—it's—I—don't f-fucking worry about it!" Blitzo shoved himself up and away from Stolas, putting distance between them. Arms crossed and shoulders hunched, the imp now sat partially turned away. Stolas, startled, extended a hand out to him, but refrained from going further than that. His arm fell back to his side.

"Anyway, just seeing her again fucked me up, I-I guess. We're bitter toward each other. Expectedly. So whatever," Blitzo finished. His tone was rougher and angrier than previously. His tail lashed once before curling around his folded legs.

"Blitzy, I'm . . . I'm sorry to hear that you had such a bad time; I truly am. But . . . I'm afraid I'm more confused than when you began," Stolas admitted. He sat up on his knees, folding his legs beneath him. "Is there something else upsetting you? Have . . . I done something?"

The way Blitzo had been speaking about his ex, and the dropping of the 'as usual' line had left Stolas uneasy. A part of the imp's anger had seemed to be directed—perhaps inadvertently? —at him. The calm (albeit somewhat melancholy) mood of the evening had suddenly switched to something more tense. The air was thick with it.

Blitzo froze. Stolas could practically feel the discomfort radiating off the imp.

"I don't fucking get you," Blitzo finally said, his voice low. His eyes were downcast.

Stolas recoiled. "Pardon?"

"You. I don't fucking get it. Why do you keep up this fucking charade?"

"What? What charade? Blitzy, I—"

"Stop! I can't—fuck, Stolas, I can't do this!" Blitzo shoved himself to his feet, his hands clawing at his face. Stolas was about to stand as well, but the way the imp turned around with fire in his eyes caused the prince to stop in his tracks.

"This whole thing is so fucked! Why do you care about anything that happens in my life? Why do you care about spending time with me?" Blitzo shouted. He was gesturing wildly as he spoke. The spines along his back lifted aggressively, his hackles raised. "All you signed up for was this dick. Why the fuck are you still pretending it's anything else?"

Stolas found himself unable to speak past the lump in his throat. What was Blitzo talking about? Why had his concern triggered such a switch in behavior?

"I'm sick of this fucking act! I can't—I can't come here and play this fucking game anymore. I," Blitzo choked, his voice cracking, "I can't keep going like this. I don't want to be used anymore." He scoffed, the sound harsh. "Not even my own kid fucking wants me around. Guess it shouldn't be a surprise."

Stolas' mouth worked as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"I don't, I-I don't understand," the prince stammered tearfully.

"Of course you fucking don't," Blitzo snarled. His eyes were watery, and his fists were clenched at his sides. "This is all just a fucking game to you, anyway. Inviting me over, acting as if you give a rat's ass about me, just to turn around and stab me in the back! You're just the latest in a long line of bastards to take advantage of me."

"But I—"

"Don't! I don't wanna hear it! You're giving me fucking whiplash!" Blitzo shook his head. "It'd be one thing if you just told me from the start you were only interested in riding my cock, but this fucking 'leading me on' bullshit? I can't keep coming back knowing—" He cut off as his eyes widened. Stolas watched the imp inhale a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down. The prince was still quivering on the ground, every muscle pulled taut.

"Knowing you don't actually, like, fucking like me," Blitzo finished in a low, rasping voice. He wiped an arm across his eyes. "So yeah. I'm fucking done."

Stolas' heart was breaking.

"Y-you can't mean that, Blitzo," he whimpered.

"I fucking do. I can't just go on as if everything is the same as it was," Blitzo said. He sent a tear-filled look of frustration at the prince. Stolas finally managed to push himself to his feet, and the action made Blitzo take several steps back.

"Blitzo, please; I'd never hurt you," Stolas placated. He put his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"It's too late for that," the imp said softly.

Stolas faltered, unsure of where to begin.

"I'd never on purpose, at least; please, just listen to what I have to say—"

Blitzo growled suddenly, his tail lashing. "Shut up! I can't—I-I can't fucking hear you out. You've fucked me mentally enough. The deal is off—"

"—Blitzo! —"

"—I'll have the book sent over—"

"—about your business! —"

"—WE'RE DONE!" Blitzo's voice echoed across the garden. He slashed a hand through the air in a finalizing movement. Stolas immediately stopped talking; he was stunned. He wanted to pin Blitzo down and scream how everything he'd just said was wrong—

"Goodbye, Stolas."

Blitzo turned and walked away. Stolas stared after him, the imp's red figure blurring into the surrounding garden as tears built up in his eyes. It was as if someone had stolen his voice away; stolen his ability to move his body for the entire length of time it took for Blitzo to disappear. He should have run and yelled after him, told his little lover that he was a fool and there was no truth to what he'd claimed.

But he hadn't. Instead of attempting to fix their tattered relationship, Stolas had stood there, numb, like a mute child, and allowed Blitzo to walk away. Was it perhaps because he didn't know what to say? How did he justify any of his actions? Did he really even understand how much anguish he'd unintentionally put Blitzo through? He'd mentioned something about the deal—

Was this all my fault?

Stolas fell to his knees and cried.

Loona was half asleep on the couch when she heard the telltale jingle of Blitzo's keys at the door. She jumped to her paws, fully awake in an instant.

"God dammit, Blitzo, why haven't you been answering your phone?!" she yelled as she threw the door wide open before he could unlock it. She stopped immediately upon seeing him.

"Blitzo?"

The bedraggled imp simply stood there. Under his eyes were dark circles, his clothes were dirty and torn, and his eyeliner was smeared down his cheeks. He looked like absolute shit.

"What happened to you? You look like you got run over," Loona said. "I've been trying to get ahold of you all day!"

Blitzo simply shrugged, swaying on his booted feet. He passed underneath her arm and stumbled into the entryway. Loona watched him, uncharacteristically hesitant. She closed the door and followed him.

"Seriously, Blitzo, what happened? Are . . . are you okay?" she asked.

Blitzo stuttered to a halt in the kitchen. He wobbled, and Loona put a hand on his shoulder.

"Where have you been? Is there someone's ass I need to kick?"

Blitzo shook his head. Loona's frown deepened, and her hackles raised.

"Seriously, just say the word; I'll fuck them up. But for now, at least, just talk to me? You disappear for a full day and then come back looking like you just spent all night at a dive bar as the glory hole slut." There was still no response, not even a smirk at her attempt to make him laugh. The hellhound bent down to make eye contact with Blitzo, her eyes searching his face. "Dad?"

The imp's passive face contorted in anguish, and he choked on a sob. Loona's ears flattened when she heard the sound. The next thing she knew, his arms were around her neck and he was bawling into her fur.

"W-whoa, Blitzo! I . . ." Loona trailed off, unsure of what to say. She'd never seen him in this state. She'd never even seen him actually cry; his tears of happiness and laughter didn't count. Even when he was sad, he typically just moped about. Slowly, Loona curled her arms around his middle and held him, allowing him to seek comfort from her presence.