Chapter 14: He Who Holds The Napkin

Octavia struggled not to stumble as she was dragged by Loona, who could run much faster than she could. Loona reached the plastic, now half a bush, and crouched down, tugging Via's hand to do the same. Fizz and Oz were noticeably missing.

"Wait what? This is what you wanted to show me? A plastic bush?" Via knelt, confused.

"Shh! Okay, I don't quite get what's going on either, but essentially, this whole thing was a set up for Blitz and your Dad to go on a date. Supposedly, at least." Loona whispered.

"What?!" Via raised her voice subconsciously.

"Shhhhhh!" Loona hushed her again.

"Who planned all this?" Via whispered back.

"Some guys who say they are Blitz's old friends. Or one of them is. I don't know. Point is, they have a whole plan, so our job is to stay out of the way. Unless they start acting suspicious, then we jump in and save their *sses." Loona said, peering through the bush.

"Are you sure we should just let this happen? Are they ready to talk? If they aren't emotionally ready, then forcing them together like this could be-" Via started.

"What are you talking about? I thought that's what we were doing with the fake Blitz account, anyway. Besides, it's too late now, look." Loona pointed, and they watched as Stolas entered through the front doors.

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Still a little unsure of himself, Stolas went up to the hooded figure by the front door, "Um, pardon me. Is this the location of the garden expo?"

"Yeah." Fizz said, hiding his face.

"Oh, well, um. I'd like 2 tickets, please. Or . . . 3?" Stolas began mumbling to himself, "Did Loona already buy herself a ticket? Would it be appropriate for me to purchase one for her? I wouldn't want to be presumptuous, or appear patronizing. . ."

"Uh, actually you pay when you leave." Fizz said, not wanting to get in trouble again for taking money.

"Oh! Really? How strange. Are you sure, because on the letter I received said that each ticket was-"

"Yeah yeah I know what it said but that's for after you leave the event. Can't have you going in and being dissatisfied, right? Now go on in! Say hi to the morgue tree's fruity demon heads!" The hooded Fizzarolli began pushing him towards the door and before Stolas knew it, he was inside, hearing a click behind him.

It suddenly became very clear to Stolas that something was very, very wrong. There was just one table in the room, and it looked nothing like a garden expo. He immediately turned around to open the door, to find that it was locked. Damn it, he was going to have to have a word with that person's supervisor. This was completely unprofessional. He turned back around to give himself space to make a portal, when he saw who was sitting in a big chair in the middle of the room, swinging his legs happily.

"Blitz . . .? Is that you" he approached the table.

Blitz, who had taken a black marker out of his pocket and began doodling horses on the very cloth, very expensive napkin in front of him, looked up startled, "S-Stolas! What the f**k?! Why are you- . . . Wait, don't tell me . . . You set all this up?!"

Stolas couldn't explain it, but seeing stars in Blitz's eyes after all this time apart, was bringing tears to his, but he held them back, "I'm sorry, no . . . What are you doing here?"

"Oh . . . Well, we were invited to a horse race and then all this was here. . . I just thought . . . nevermind, it's stupid." Blitz slouched.

"Horse race? So that's how they tricked you into coming. I was told this was a garden exposition. It seems we were both lied to, though I still don't understand why, or by whom." Stolas fidgeted a little, feeling awkward to just be stood next to the table, but wondered if it would be overfamiliar for him to sit in the empty chair.

"You mean . . ." Blitz took in their surroundings, eyes wide, like he was suddenly seeing everything for the first time, " . . . C***** on a stick, they led us right into a horny prison, didn't they."

". . . Horny what? Nevermind, earlier, you said 'we were invited'. Might I ask who was the 'we' you spoke of?" Stolas asked, shifting his weight.

"Oh, Loona was here earlier, but she said she was going to the bathroom. I'm starting to think she might not be coming back though, given that you're here now. I wouldn't be surprised if she was in on this whole thing." Blitz tapped his finger on the table, then looked up at Stolas, "Are you gonna just stand there or what?"

"Oh! Yes, thank you." Stolas took a seat on the other side of the table, trying not to admire the view of Blitz through the candle light, "Are you implying that you know why they've trapped us here? Could you enlighten me? I do rather hate being in the dark on important plans."

Blitz looked down at the table, and fidgeted with the tablecloth, trying to think fast, "Sh*t. What am I supposed to say? 'My daughter must have seen how many gallons of ice cream I've gone through, despite denying that I felt anything for you, and decided to intervene.' I only just f**king realized that I'm emotionally attached to this pretentious bird. I've been too busy since the dream to even process that, let alone decide how to act around him. Oh, G** this is a f**king mess. If Loona was involved in this in anyway, she is sure gonna get the f**king talking to of-"

"Um, Blitzy? Did you hear me?" Stolas asked.

Blitz looked up, still with a shocked look on his face, and Stolas corrected himself, "Oh, dear. I'm sorry. I won't call you that anymore. I swear, it was just out of habit. I didn't mean to disrespect you or your boundaries."

Blitz came back to himself, and though he had started to sweat, he tried to talk out of his *ss like he always did, "It's fine. And I was just thinking that this was probably some kind of prank Loona was pulling: Force Dad to be alone with an old slam piece. She's always playing tricks on people around the office, though usually they aren't this elaborate. As a trick connoisseur, I'm kind of proud, but as her father and boss, I am both disappointed and outraged, but that's just how it goes raising a kid, am I right? HAHAHA. . .!" He laughed a little too loudly.

Stolas saw Blitz acting nervous, and interpreted it as him being uncomfortable around him, and he had to himself to keep it together, ". . . Right, well I did see Loona briefly while I was outside. I suppose it makes sense that she pulled Via away if she were trying to get us together. Oh, well. It seems they locked the doors the moment I entered the room so-"

"Aw, d*mnit," Blitz slammed his fist on the table, "that Loona sure is going to be in trouble when she finally decides to let us out of here."

Before Blitz had interrupted him, Stolas had been about to offer to make a portal for the both of them to leave through. He supposed he still could. All he had to do was say the words. Would it be a lie not to tell him they could leave at any point? Blitz did technically already know that Stolas was proficient at making portals, even without his grimoire handy. Maybe Blitz simply wanted to spend some more time with him . . . ? No, that was wishful thinking; dangerous thinking. He was probably just so startled and off put by the whole situation that he was having a lapse in memory. Maybe Stolas should remind him of it. Not only was he morally obligated, and it would be a lie of omission not too, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be stuck in a room with Blitz. As romantic as this setting was, he was clearly uncomfortable, and he had promised he wouldn't do that to Blitz.

Stolas rested his arm on the table as he opened his mouth to form the words, when his hand touched something, "What's this?"

Blitz looked up as Stolas held the cloth napkin he had been doodling on, "Oh, I was just drawing some horses while I was waiting around. You can keep it if you want."

Stolas grinned at the adorable drawing, then frowned and placed it back in front of Blitz, "Thank you for the offer, but no."

Blitz cocked an eyebrow at him, "Why? You always take my doodles. You get upset when I try to throw them away."

"That was-" Stolas took a deep breath and looked away from him, "That was when our arrangement was still in place. I don't know if I should, now. In fact, I'm not sure I should be keeping all the ones I still have."

"What, so we stop f**king and suddenly you hate my doodles?" Blitz was confused, and maybe even a little hurt, " . . . Did you always hate them?"

Stolas turned back to him, "No! No, no, I-I love it, truly. That's exactly the problem. You see, well-" he sighed, looking away again, "I don't think it's something you would understand."

". . . If you actually love them, then you should just take it. I don't see why it's such a big deal." Blitz pushed the napkin back towards Stolas.

"It's a big deal to me, because you didn't really want me to have your art in the first place. I pressured you into giving it to me, and I won't do that anymore." Stolas pushed back the napkin

"Well, I'm telling you, unpressured, to take the g**d*mn napkin, so here." Blitz was beginning to feel frustrated.

"You're only giving it to me because you were just going to throw it away, but it's your art. It's precious, and you should get to choose who gets to keep it, not just let anyone who shows an interest snatch it away. I won't take it, I won't. In fact, I'll include all the things of yours that I currently have the next time my butler brings you the grimoire." Stolas shut his eyes and pressed his lips firmly together, pushing back the napkin back like he was refusing diamonds, but he was determined.

Blitz was taken aback, but he was not going to let this go, "I don't want my f**king things, and I don't want this f**king napkin. Just. Take. It." He slid it back towards Stolas again.

"No!" Stolas pushed the napkin, clumping up the tablecloth with it.

"Yes!" Blitz shoved it back, knocking over the candelabra.

"No!" Stolas's face was becoming half engulfed in black and red, partially taking on his full demon form, but Blitz just glared back, unafraid.

Later Blitz would wonder why Stolas keeping the napkin was such a big deal to him, but in the moment, he was not going to give up until the bird pocketed the doodle, "Let me spell it out for you Stolas. I want you to have the f**king napkin, and you are going to take it home with you. You can throw it away, hang it on your fridge, c*m into it, I don't care! But if you don't I swear to-"

"Why?" Stolas interrupted, shadows growing around him.

"Huh?" Blitz was thrown off.

Stolas took a deep breath, coming back to his regular form, "Why do you want me to have it? You don't have a reason, do you? You just decided this was a competition and that you need to win. Well, I'm not playing your game, so the answer is no." He pushed back the napkin and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

"I have a reason, d*mnit!" Blitz threw his fist on the table.

"Oh, do you really?" Stolas didn't hide his sarcasm.

"Yes, I do!" Blitz shouted, standing out of his seat.

"What is it then? Enlighten me." Stolas stared him down.

Blitz opened his mouth to speak, but he choked on the words. Why did he want him to have it again? A memory flashed through his mind, of the first time Stolas had caught him doodling. They were in the mansion, and Blitz was drinking the tea he had been offered in the kitchen. Stolas had picked it up, examined the paper, and with the biggest grin on his face shouted, "Mine!" and that was that. Blitz had told him that it was trash and to throw it away, to which Stolas hung it on his fridge. Blitz had said that if anyone asked him about his horse fetishes, he couldn't blame Blitz. Stolas had just stood there for a moment, then walked over to him, and picked him up, once again declaring, "Mine!" and that was that.

"Well?" The present day Stolas asked, looking down his beak at Blitz. Stolas was mad; inexplicably and irrevocably mad. He loved Blitz, he really did, but he drove him up the wall sometimes. Blitz was only trying to give him something that he so clearly wanted. It was just the fact that Blitz was treating Stolas's thoughtful consideration of his boundaries as something to vie against. It was just the fact that the horse drawings meant nothing to Blitz, when it meant so much to him. It was just the fact that Blitz knew that he loved him, and still treated him as though nothing had happened. Perhaps that was the most hurtful thing of all. He held back the urge to cry, kiss him, or punch him in the mug, and simply asked again, "Why do you want me to have it?"

Author's Note:

My cat Lacey's contribution:

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Vik here. If you follow me on Tumblr, you might have seen a poll I posted saying that this chapter wouldn't be ready in time and what to do about it. Well, I finished it last night and edited it this morning before work! I hope it's still good. My dear editor said that I got Stolas's character to a T, but not so much on Blitz's reactions, so I edited a few things, but I still don't know if I got him right. I hope you enjoyed the story anyway. It's fun to see the things I've set up finally going places and I'm so happy I get to write for you all. Thanks for reading!

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