Blitz awoke to find Stolas gazing at him from across the bed, the Prince's chin resting on his hand and a soft smile gracing his beak. There'd been a time that Blitz would have shrunk away from such an intense stare, but now there was a gentleness to it that was so confusing to the imp that he simply blinked back.
"Good morning, dear," Stolas greeted softly. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope."
The words snapped Blitz from his daze, breaking eye contact as he heaved himself upright with an exaggerated groan while stretching his arms overhead.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm just peachy," he replied, giving a lazy wave in his direction, then glancing at the bedside clock and jolting at the time.
"Damn it!" Blitz cursed, scrambling to get off the bed, "I'm fucking late!"
He quickly dressed in his clothes from the night before, pleasantly surprised to find he wasn't feeling off-balance or dizzy, and the aches in his body had dulled.
Maybe all he had needed was a good night's sleep.
"Must you run off so soon?" Stolas asked, standing next to his bed in his robe now, "We could have breakfast together if your stomach isn't-"
"No time, Bitch," Blitz abruptly cut the other off as he stooped to put on his boots, "Daddy's got work to do."
When he straightened back up, he caught the frown on Stolas's beak and the owl's slumped shoulders.
Fuck.
Blitz could usually brush aside any guilt about leaving by reminding himself that he had rocked the Prince's world the night before, but he had certainly not done that last night.
No, instead of showing Stolas a good time, Blitz had passed out before getting him off, thrown up, passed out again on his bed, and was now refusing a breakfast invite.
Blitz sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked off to the side.
He had done nothing to earn the night's rest he had gotten, and he definitely did not deserve breakfast (not that Blitz had much appetite, anyway). The least the imp could do was show he was grateful- even if indulging in these softer moments with Stolas was risky.
"But, I... appreciate the offer," Blitz said at last, his tone sincere though he didn't meet the other's gaze, "And... you know, thanks for letting me stay the night and shit."
There, he'd said it.
And he'd meant it.
When Blitz looked back up, Stolas was smiling again.
"You don't have to thank me. I'm always happy to have you here," the owl said, walking around the bed to stand before the imp and gently touching Blitz's face. "It really is such a treat waking up to you."
Stolas's words seemed as earnest as always, yet without the lustful undertones they would have held in the past. Even his touch wasn't as demeaning or possessive as it had felt at the beginning of their arrangement.
Then again, a lot had changed since then, and even more seemed to have changed since their disastrous date at Ozzie's.
Blitz would have been concerned if the Prince had been giving him less attention since then, but that wasn't the case. The attention was just different now. The gazes were softer, the touches more tender, and there had been considerably less dirty talk from the owl outside of the full moon, his text messages often wishing Blitz good morning or asking about his day.
It was confusing, and Blitz was trying hard not to let his guard down.
And yet he kept fucking up.
Staying the night without sex, snuggling, and even now, as the owl leaned down to give one of his horns a soft peck, the imp was sure he was blushing. The gesture felt more intimate than if Stolas had slipped his tongue into Blitz's mouth.
"Oh-kay," Blitz's laugh was a little too loud and nervous as he pulled away, "That's enough domestic bullshit for one morning," he looked around the room as he backed up towards the balcony. "Now, where's that damn book..."
Said book floated toward him, surrounded by Stolas's magic.
"I managed to finish my duties while you were still sleeping," the owl informed him. "I left a portal open in case you needed me, although I hated to leave you for even a moment, especially since you were so delightfully clingy."
Blitz snatched the book out of the air, pretending to ignore the Prince's teasing words as he turned to leave.
"Do message me after your trip to the doctors if it's not too much trouble," Stolas said, following close behind Blitz as the imp tried to make a hasty retreat, "You do still intend to go, don't you?"
Blitz threw his head back with a groan.
"Said I would, so I will," He griped, "Now stop being such a fucking mother hen- shits weird."
Stolas chuckled goodnaturedly.
"Very well, Dearest," he replied, bidding the imp farewell. "Until next time."
Blitz hoped Stolas didn't notice how his tail perked up behind him as he hurried away.
'Dearest? Fuck, that was a new one.'
The drive to work was torture.
Blitz had thought he was doing better, but his rapid driving and the road's sharp curves had him gasping through gritted teeth as a tide of nausea surged within him, his hands clenching the steering wheel so hard that the scars on his palms ached.
Once parked, Blitz exhaled deeply and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, waiting for the queasiness to pass. With trembling hands, he left the car, tucked the book under his arm, and entered the building. It wasn't until he reached the door marked I.M.P. that he straightened up and took a shallow breath.
'Showtime.'
Blitz grabbed the handle and flung the door open with more energy than he had.
"Morning, Fuckers!"
Loona remained focused on her magazine, her feet propped up on the desk, ignoring the entrance, while Millie sprang from the couch where she and Moxxie were sitting and greeted him with a bright smile.
"Good mornin', B!"
Moxie rose to stand beside her, arms folded across his chest, looking less than impressed with the taller imp.
"I was wondering if you'd join us today, Sir."
Blitz's smile faded as he gave the younger imp the finger while Millie softly nudged her husband's side.
"Moxxie, be nice," she chided gently, her eyes twinkling playfully, "You know the full moon is ah... busy night for him."
Moxxie's lips quirked up at her teasing remark, his stiff posture instantly relaxing. Even Loona lowered the magazine she had been hiding behind to join in.
"Guess that explains why he's late," she remarked, a smirk on her face. "He's been putting in that overtime."
M&M exchanged amused looks as they tried to stifle their chuckles, and Blitz rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, all of you," he replied, trying to appear his usual self as he walked further into the room, "Never mind the fact that this fine ass is what keeps us all employed."
"Sorry, Sir," Moxxie curbed his smile, "but you must admit that three hours late is a little excessive even for the morning after a full moon."
"Blah, blah, blah! The point is , I'm here, and so is the fancy-ass book," Blitz replied, lifting the book slightly, "So enough chit-chat; let's get to killing something."
"Are ya sure you don't wanna eat first?" Millie asked, "Mox made some muffins for everyone."
She lifted a plate from the corner of Loona's desk and extended it towards him. The smell of cinnamon was so strong that Blitz recoiled and gagged, his nausea surging back violently.
Millie pulled the plate back, her brows knitting together in confusion and worry at his reaction.
Moxxie rolled his eyes, assuming Blitz was poking fun at his baking skills.
"Really, Sir, if you would just try—"
The thud of a book abruptly hitting the floor cut off his sentence. Blitz had let go of the Grimoire to clamp both hands over his mouth, his gaze frantically searching until it landed on the wastebasket next to Loona's desk.
He collapsed to his knees in front of it just as he started retching, bringing up water and bile and nothing else.
Loona made a noise of disgust and quickly got up from her chair to back further away. Moxxie and Millie exchanged worried looks as they watched their boss gag again, heaving without anything left to expel. Neither protested when Loona grabbed the muffin tray, strode to an open window, and chucked it out, headless of the sound of screeching tires and cursing that followed on the street below.
Millie's gaze stayed fixed on Blitz as he leaned back to breathe, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion.
She gave him a moment to compose himself before speaking.
"B?" she started, knowing he wouldn't like what she had to say, "I think you might have come down with somethin', hun."
Blitz let out a humorless chuckle, not bothering to look at her.
"Gee, what gave me away?" he asked, rubbing his face and groaning.
"Sir, if you're ill, you could have called in," Moxxie said, "If we all get sick, then productivity will-"
"What Moxxie is tryin' to say," Millie gave her husband a quick warning look before turning back to Blitz with a gentler voice, "is that we're worried. We've both noticed ya seem tired lately. Maybe you should take some time off to getcha some rest."
"And visit a doctor as well," Moxxie chimed in.
Blitz let out a sigh as he rose to his feet—the restful sleep he had enjoyed seemed like a distant memory now.
"I already told Stolas I'd go after work," he sulked, "So you can all get off my case about it, okay?"
"You should go now."
Blitz looked at Loona with mild surprise, but the hellhound simply shrugged as she settled back at her desk.
"You haven't smelled right for weeks," she stated.
'Weeks?' he thought, 'I've only been sick for a few days.'
"Wait, what do you mean by 'smell'?" Blitz straightened up, looking affronted. "For your information, I bathe nearly semi-regularly, young lady."
"Look, there are only two hits for today," Loona pointed out, ignoring his offended tone. "The other stooges can handle it while you figure out what your deal is."
Blitz gazed at his daughter, confused but touched by her persistence.
"Oh, Looney," he choked up, "Are you worried about your dear old dad?"
Loona emitted a low, warning growl.
"That's not what I said," she replied, a mix of irritation and embarrassment. "I just don't want you puking all over the office; it's gross."
"She's right, Sir; it's quite unsanitary."
Moxxie's unnecessary input immediately darkened Blitz's mood.
"Ugh, fine! I'll go to the fucking doctor," he grumbled, picking up the book and placing it on Loona's desk with a frown, "But they're just going to say it's the flu and send my ass home; just watch."
Blitz was regretting going to an actual hospital.
Still, the cheap clinic he usually went to when a work injury was too severe was packed with sick, injured fucks, and the waiting room had somehow smelled even worse than usual.
So, here he was.
The place wasn't as pompous as the hospitals in Sloth, thank fuck, and it seemed to employ a fair number of imps, hellhounds, and sinners, so he didn't have to deal with everyone staring down their noses at him, but this was taking way too fucking long.
First, they wanted him to fill out paperwork before he was seen. Blitz hastily filled in his first name only, crossing out the 'O' since he'd forgotten to leave it off, and then bullshitted his way through the rest of the form. After completing it, he glared threateningly at the nurse as he handed it back, none too subtly opening his jacket enough to reveal his gun and daring them to turn him away.
After that, a different nurse escorted him to another room, where they recorded his weight, height, temperature, and blood pressure. They asked some basic questions, took a throat swab to test for various illnesses, and then sent him to another room to wait.
Twenty minutes later, the doctor met with him, asked even more questions, drew some blood, and had Blitz piss in a cup (after he had chugged two bottles of water to manage it).
Now, he was fidgeting in a chair as he waited again , wondering if this was how a regular visit should go or if something was seriously fucking wrong with him.
'It's just the flu.'
Blitz jumped at the quick double knock on the door before a plump, slightly older imp doctor entered; the same fucker that had asked him all those personal questions from before, the one who the assassin had snapped at to mind his own goddamn business.
The doctor was now smiling pleasantly, and it was unclear to Blitz whether he was entirely over the imp's previous outburst or if the guy was a sick fuck who was about to take pleasure in telling Blitz that he was dying.
He was surprised when the answer was neither.
"I'm what now?" Blitz asked, sure he had misheard. There was no way he could be—
"Pregnant, Mr. Blitzo," the doctor repeated cheerfully, and Blitz was so stunned that he didn't even correct him on the name.
Instead, he waited for the punchline, the catch , anything. But after a moment, he realized the doctor was actually fucking serious.
Blitz leaned back in his chair.
"Wow," he said dryly, "And here I thought the lack of piss smell meant this place wasn't full of fucking hacks."
The imp doctor looked startled by his response.
"I...beg your pardon?" he said, frowning in confusion.
"I'm not pregnant," Blitz stated, his tone and expression falling flat. "It's not possible. So, either you and your staff are fucking idiots, or the chart you're holding belongs to the whore across the hall."
The elder imp's frown gave way to raised eyebrows and a soft "Ah, I see," as if understanding Blitz's response at last.
"It's exceedingly rare these days," he began, speaking slowly yet professionally, "but some male imps, like yourself, can indeed—"
Blitz felt his temper flare as he held up a hand.
"Gonna stop you right the fuck there, doc," he said, beyond pissed that the older imp had assumed his ignorance on the subject. "I don't need a fucking biology lesson, okay? I was told a long fucking time ago that I can't get knocked up regardless. So whatever fucking scam you think you're pulling here is not going to fly with me, you got it, shitstain?"
Once more, the doctor looked surprised.
"I didn't realize that this news would upset you," he remarked, his voice tinged with regret, choosing to overlook Blitz's derisive snort. "But I can assure you that there is no mistake. We've run several tests, and the results are all the same. You're about a month along."
Blitz scowled, shaking his head in denial and exasperation because even if he wasn't infertile like he'd been told, Stolas was the only one Blitz had fucked in a really long time, and there was no way the Prince had knocked him up.
'He doesn't even have a fucking dick!'
As soon as Blitz thought this, though, another voice countered. 'But he has a fucking daughter , dumbass,' and the imp froze as he realized he knew jack-shit about how that worked.
And being a month along would align perfectly with the last full moon.
So,…. not impossible after all.
'Pregnant?'
Blitz gently rested a hand on his stomach, leaning back in his chair again.
'Pregnant.'
"Sir, are you alright?" The doctor's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked, feeling an odd emptiness despite having something growing inside him.
"I'm...just feeling a little sick," he said, barely able to recognize his voice. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the whole truth.
"Ah, before you go, I can give you something for that," the doctor offered, clearing his throat before speaking in a steadier tone. "May I ask, though, if you're considering termination?"
"Termination?" Blitz echoed, his brow furrowing as he tried to grasp the meaning through the haze clouding his mind.
"It's not uncommon, particularly in the early stages, to consider an abortion," the older imp explained gently. "Given your reaction, it's understandable if this an unwanted pregnancy."
'Unwanted'
The hand on his stomach clenched into a tight grip over his shirt as Blitz recalled gazing through the bars of a cell at a seventeen-year-old Loona.
'Good riddance if you ask me.'
A sudden, fierce protective instinct took hold, even as his rational mind reasoned that termination was probably the best course of action—his ticket out. Blitz could tell everyone it had just been the flu as he'd originally thought. No one would even have to know, no one but him.
Nothing had to change.
"Of course, I understand if this is something you need to think over and discuss with your partner first," the doctor said, oblivious to Blitz's racing thoughts.
'Partner?'
Fuck what would Stolas think?
Their arrangement was never supposed to go beyond sex; Blitz knew he was just a fun distraction for the Prince, regardless of the owl's strange demeanor these last few months.
Would Stolas decide he was more trouble than he was worth and end their deal?
Then what?
"Sir? Mr. Blitzo?"
Blitz looked up, his focus wavering.
"Uh, yeah," he replied, finally acknowledging the previous words, "I'll need to... to talk with my... yes."
The doctor's expression remained unreadable, yet his tone was sympathetic. "I'll get you something for the nausea and some prenatal vitamins before you go," he said, patting Blitz on the shoulder—a gesture Blitz scarcely registered. "You can schedule a follow-up appointment with the nurse outside or take a few days to consider your options and give us a call."
Blitz nodded as he rose from his seat, his legs supporting him despite feeling unsteady.
His hand was still on his stomach.
And that's chapter 2.
Comments are always appreciated- I love the feedback and it's a big motivator for me to know people are enjoying the story and want more.