you're inside my head

The absolute last thing Stolas expected to see in his recently-opened shop on a slow weekday afternoon was a familiar face.

He only had his little gardening shop, Blue Star, for a couple months, and it'd been open to the public for less than that. But horticulture had always been a passion of his, and he found a location that wasn't already inundated with competition but had plenty of nearby clientele that might be interested, and it wasn't too far from the city and all of its resources and distractions. It was a decent spot, and of course the true appeal was in its distance from his old life and his awful family, which was all he'd ever wanted.

So if he'd been asked to make a list of who he expected to see in his shop that day, the lead singer of Fuck You Dad would have been higher than the little clown boy he'd known for a single day twenty-five years ago.

He didn't even recognize him right away, because it had been so long, and he had scarring Stolas didn't recall on his young face, around his eye and on his arms, arms that— well, they were making Stolas sweat, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat. His hair was longer on the top, pulled back into a short ponytail, and shaved on the sides. Stolas wondered if it would feel soft under his fingers.

And his eyes. They were intense, more so than he remembered, and, well. If Stolas had been in any doubt that he was attracted to men, he certainly wasn't any longer. At least there was one thing he could be sure of when it came to his own... identity.

But Stolas wasn't thinking about any of that, because that would be completely unprofessional, and Stolas was now the proprietor of a respectable establishment with responsibilities and a code of ethics. His little shop may not be famous or even particularly profitable yet, but he was determined to make it so, because it was his.

His and Via's, anyway. Or it would be, if she wanted it. That was a discussion they hadn't gotten to just yet, with everything that had been happening the past year.

It had only been a few months since the divorce was finalized after a long and grueling process that Stella dragged out much longer than necessary, and Via... had not been taking it well. Which he completely understood! And he would give her all the time she needed, and be there when she was ready to talk to him.

Which he hoped was soon, because he missed her dearly.

But that was also not what he should be thinking about when he finally had a customer to assist in his brand new shop.

"Blitzo!" He said, mortified that it came out a little breathless. Professional, he was a professional!

The man blinked, gave him a once-over, and then recognition dawned. "Wait, are you— the little Ars Goetia kid?"

"Y-You recognize me?" Stolas asked, and immediately felt stupid. Stolas remembered him after all that time, didn't he? Why should it be shocking that Blitzo also remembered Stolas? But then, it had been over twenty years, and Stolas had... changed quite a bit, so maybe the surprise was excusable.

Blitzo shrugged. "Yeah, sure. That party of yours was pretty memorable. Also, all the stealing? The troupe didn't stay a thing for very long after that, so. Left an impression. Also, it's just Blitzø now, the o is silent. I guess you probably changed your name, too?"

"Um, yes," Stolas said as he rubbed at the back of his neck, willing the redness he was sure was all over his face to go away. "It's Stolas now, much to my father's dismay. I do hope you have been well, despite the circumstances with your theater troupe?"

Blitzø grinned, and Stolas was forced to confront the fact that in addition to the physical attraction, his childhood crush had also not gone away like he'd assumed it would. No, quite the opposite, actually. Oh boy, he was in trouble.

"I'd say so. I kill people now!"

Stolas gulped. Unfortunately, fear did not seem to do anything to diminish the appeal. What the hell was wrong with him? "I... hope you are not here seeking revenge for my terrible party?" He squeaked, and Blitzø laughed. It affected Stolas even more than the grin.

"Holy fuck no, I'm messing with you! I'm not some sort of assassin, as badass as that would be." Blitzø leaned an elbow on the counter separating them, and Stolas couldn't help but think that the counter was quite a small and insignificant barrier, actually, if it could be crossed so easily. "I work security, so I guess technically I can kill people if it's an emergency or some shit, but I haven't yet. Barely even gotten to use my gun, after all that work to get the license for it. Honestly, It's mostly boring as fuck."

"I... I see," Stolas said, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. "You are working in security, and yet you're here, in need of... a houseplant? Or perhaps a bouquet?"

Blitzø blinked at him, and then glanced around the shop, scoffing. "Oh hell no, it's not for me. Well, actually I did have some questions, but I'm mostly here because my dickhead of a client thinks I'm his errand boy, and I can't afford to tell him to fuck off just yet. He's the plant guy. Landscaper."

"I wasn't aware being a landscaper was such a dangerous profession, if he's hiring security," Stolas said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Apparently they've had a bunch of thefts and a couple of their guys were hospitalized after the last one, so he hired us as extra muscle, and we're trying to get to the bottom of it while we're at it."

"Ah," Stolas said, glancing around at his displays with their assortment of flowers, houseplants, and all manner of fertilizer and pots and tools to care for them. The range of offerings were a little less diverse than his ideal, but were by no means meager. He actually thought he'd done relatively well for himself, given his very finite starting budget, and he had quite a lot of plans for expansion, if he could manage to stay afloat long enough to follow through with them. "Well, I can certainly help with anything related to flora, as well as answer related questions! We only opened last month, but I assure you I have become quite knowledgeable."

"Only a month, huh? That explains it, then," Blitzø muttered, still looking around.

Stolas felt a tight knot of nerves squeeze uncomfortably in his stomach. "Explains... what?"

"I was looking for a place to pick up the shit I need, and I found this place because you're closest, but you've got no reviews, and then when I got here everything looked, like— shiny, polished. New. You gotta break the place in a little, get some dirt and scratches on stuff. Be rough with it." He threw in a wink and finger guns. "Makes you look more established, and like you know what you're doing."

Stolas swallowed, and replied with as level of a voice as he could manage. "I see."

"So, I need some rocks— wait, he made me write this down, apparently there are specific kinds of rocks," he said with an eye roll, digging a piece of paper out of his pocket. "He's a picky fucker and also rude as hell, he didn't think I'd get it right." Blitzø also pulled out his phone and showed Stolas the list next to the images he'd gathered while trying to figure out what everything meant, but it was all materials Stolas had in stock and was familiar with. He showed Blitzø where they were, asked if he knew anything about what they were being used for, which he seemed to have a rough idea. It was enough that Stolas had some suggestions for other additions that might work well. After a quick call to his client, who gave his approval, Blitzø followed all of Stolas's recommendations.

He also asked Stolas questions, about some of the other things around the store that Blitzø recognized from seeing the landscaper use them, but wasn't sure what their purpose was. He also seemed curious about what running the store was like, and it was nice to have someone to confess some of his recent frustrations to. Getting the store ready for opening by himself had been exhausting, and it turned out Blitzø was his own boss too, so he could relate to some of his struggles. Stolas wasn't entirely surprised when they both realized they'd been talking for over an hour.

"Shit, the prick's gonna kill me," Blitzø mumbled, after he'd taken out his phone to look up a funny video and glanced at the clock in the process. "I should get back."

"Please do not hesitate to return if you have any further questions," Stolas said with a smile. 

"Yeah, that'd be great," Blitzø said, tucking his phone away and grabbing the bags he hadn't loaded into his van yet. He sounded genuine, and it gave Stolas the confidence to make the offer that was hovering on the tip of his tongue.

"Actually, if you'd like, I can give you my number. That way you could ask questions at any time, and I will be able to respond more quickly. If you want."

"That'd be awesome, actually," Blitzø said, and Stolas felt a swell of jittery pleasure sweep through him as he recited his number for Blitzø and watched him type it into his contacts.

"See ya around, mister bigshot flowershop owner," Blitzø said with a cheeky salute, and then he was gone.

Just before Stolas heard the crunch of gravel as his van pulled out of the lot, he heard the ping of his phone, and saw he'd gotten a new text.

It was just two emoji— a flower, and the smiley face with its tongue sticking out (was Blitzø planning on licking the flowers?)— but as far as Stolas was concerned, it might as well have been a proposal.

Of friendship, of course, he wasn't some kind of obsessive creep. It meant Blitzø didn't mind Stolas having his number, even if he didn't have a question yet! Stolas wasn't sure the last time that had happened. He was pretty certain the previous time he gave someone his number, he'd never received any kind of follow-up whatsoever.

He tried to recall any time he'd gotten a reply before, actually. He certainly wasn't in the habit of giving out his phone number to people regularly, but he'd done it on occasion. He was drawing a blank on any acquaintances that had started that way, and managed to last beyond the initial conversation.

Blitzø had a way of taking many of his firsts, though, so maybe he shouldn't be all that surprised he seemed to have this one, as well.

Blitzø had a question for him the next afternoon, and then another one two minutes later, and pretty much at least once an hour after that, for the duration of his work day.

He didn't seem to mind when Stolas took a while to respond— he had to eat, after all, and he refused to stop paying attention to Via for even a moment when she actually accepted his offer to watch a movie with her, even though he got several texts over the course of the somewhat lengthy film (Via didn't talk to him, but they were in a room together for two whole hours, that was progress, and Stolas would celebrate it as such!), but as soon as Stolas replied to him after Via returned to her room, Blitzø had several more questions queued up and made up for the lost time.

Blitzø must've been incredibly bored at his job, if he was this interested in learning about plants.

Stolas ended up calling him to give the answer to his questions in detail, and before the call was over they had plans to meet at a pizza place halfway between Stolas's shop and Blitzø's client so they could talk more in person on their lunch break the following day. It happened so fast Stolas barely had time to process what happened until it was already decided.

He didn't have time to think about whether recommending they talk over pizza was weird. They barely knew each other! They spoke once after such a long gap, more than two decades, and they'd only known one another for a day even then! But Blitzø agreed immediately, and then they had plans, and Stolas had all the time in the world to freak out about it, but it was set, and he didn't have to worry about whether or not Blitzø would agree in the first place.

Because he already had.

"Okay, I've had some good pizza, but this is on another level."

"I told you!"

Stolas grinned happily as Blitzø took another bite of his slice of pizza and hummed in appreciation. They had some unusual topping combinations in addition to the classics, but everything Stolas had tried so far was surprisingly delicious, and he was glad that Blitzø seemed to agree.

And whatever dough they used was positively divine. Just the right balance between a crispy outside and a soft, fluffy center to the crust, seasoned to perfection.

"Okay, so explain to me how the hell pruning is supposed to work, again?" Blitzø said, as soon as he'd swallowed down the last bite of his pizza. "Because I still don't get what the fuck I'm supposed to be looking at, and I tried. It all just looks the same to me."

Stolas hummed in thought, trying to think of how to explain it, because he usually just looked at a plant and could tell. "It's certainly easier when it's a plant you're more familiar with... I just keep an eye on it, and when it looks... too full and wild, or like it's struggling, but I know it's been watered and has had its soil changed recently, and there are no strange insects about, then it's probably due for a trim. The goal is to direct the plant's attention, in a way? Keep it focusing on maintaining what it already has, rather than growing so large it becomes unable to sustain itself. It's a balance, and there is plenty of variation as to how much pruning will result in a healthy plant."

Blitzø frowned, tapping a finger against the table as he turned Stolas's words over in his mind. "So... you're saying I can't really just walk into a garden and know? Like, oh, that one needs pruning, because it's— whatever, yellow, or all shriveled, or something. And how much to trim it is a crapshoot."

"It... depends," Stolas said slowly, and Blitzø scowled at him, and Stolas couldn't help grinning at the expression. "I'm sorry! It's a bit of an art form, and I would have to see the plant to know for sure. Sometimes I can tell right away, other times I have to try things and see what works."

Blitzø groaned, throwing his head back and sliding down his chair. "That's so much work! Who has the fucking time?"

Stolas chuckled. "Well, it is my profession. I admit I find the process of puzzling out and diagnosing a problem and then determining the correct course of action to resolve it to be quite enjoyable, even when time consuming. But that is why I made the choices I did in regards to my career, whereas someone else might not."

Blitzø searched Stolas's face as he mulled that over, and Stolas had to squash down the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. Everything about Blitzø was direct and passionate, something Stolas found equal parts alluring and unnerving, but he thought he could probably get used to it. In moments like this, however, under the direct force of Blitzø's attention, he had his doubts.

Finally Blitzø broke eye contact to glance over toward the kitchen, and Stolas let out a relieved breath.

"I'm still hungry, but I gotta get back soon. I think I'll grab one more slice on the way out," he said, getting up. "If you've got the deets on any other secret food spots around here, consider me interested."

Stolas tried very hard not to think of that as a request for a second date, because that would be a very strange way to interpret such an innocuous statement and even more innocuous lunch with a... friend. Could he call him that, Stolas wondered? Would Blitzø mind?

"Certainly! I would be delighted to show you another, the next time you're available."

"Cool," Blitzø said, and with a wave, they parted ways.

Stolas tried not to read too much into it, but it was so difficult not to. Blitzø wanted to meet up with him again! It took effort to contain his excitement, because he felt like jumping up and down with glee.

But he refused to think about wanting anything more than that. Because this brand new friendship was precious to him, and he wasn't going to ruin it. Besides, there was no way Blitzø would want—he couldn't—Stolas wasn't—it just wouldn't happen. Stolas knew... what he looked like, how he could be. Excitable, silly, strange. Not... you know, romantic—dating—material.

Hell, he didn't even know if Blitzø would be interested in someone like him! He was no longer a girl, and didn't really consider himself a man, either. Not really, even though he did tend to prefer masculine pronouns.

But he'd learned his lesson well about... what people found attractive, and indecision certainly wasn't it. He wouldn't expect Blitzø to— want him, like that.

He enjoyed talking to Blitzø, who seemed to genuinely enjoy his work, as much as he complained about it. He was interested in knowing more about all kinds of wildlife— he asked a lot of questions about the dangerous ones, in particular, and he definitely loved a gruesome story about someone having a horrible reaction because they were careless, but he also listened when Stolas talked about the less exciting incidents, even when he rambled about which ones customers liked the most, because of how they looked or their smell or even sometimes just because they were supposed to be easy to care for.

Blitzø looked at him when he spoke, watched him as he explained things, didn't make fun of him when he got carried away or excited about a topic. Well, that was a lie, he made fun of him all the time— but it wasn't mean. Not like—

He appreciated it, was the thing. And he refused to do anything that might chase Blitzø away. 

He thought he could be selfish like that, maybe, just this once.

Blitzø was in trouble.

His client spent all morning throwing a massive tantrum, which made it really hard to do his damn job. He'd barely been able to understand anything through the angry ranting, but from what he got, it sounded like something Stolas could probably help with. The only problem was getting him all the way here in the middle of the day— it was a huge ask, because Stolas had his own work to manage.

Blitzø made the mistake of offering suggestions to the landscaper based on what he'd been learning from Stolas, because he was just so fucking bored and plants were not exactly riveting but it was at least something to think about when he was just standing there, waiting around and keeping watch, and he was actually starting to notice more about the plants and shit now that he was paying attention. There were, like, varieties, and they were all different, but also he was starting to recognize what one looked like when it had gone too long without being watered, or when there were signs of an infestation of aphids, or when it was obvious deer or other wildlife had gotten to them and shit like that.

Anyway, now the asshole he was doing this job for seemed to think he could basically get Blitzø to double as both security and one of his errand boys, especially now that Blitzø had proved he knew enough to not fuck basic tasks up, and Blitzø was about ready to burn the place to the ground and say screw it to this whole shitty gig.

But the whole point was to do well enough that they had a satisfied customer to talk them up, get some good publicity, and then they'd find more work from that. If he fucked it up now, it would all be a waste of time, and they'd be right back where they started.

Not to mention, it would probably mean he wouldn't have an excuse to keep bothering Stolas.

Because bothering Stolas was fun, for some reason. Things didn't seem boring or stupid when Stolas talked about them, and he always had such a bizarre way of looking at things. Blitzø didn't understand everything he talked about, the guy was, like— smart smart. But that didn't make him any less interesting to listen to.

And he was nice to look at, too. That certainly didn't hurt. It was a shame he didn't seem to return Blitzø's interest, any kind of flirting seemed to just kind of slide off him, but that didn't bother Blitzø too much. They both had something to gain from one another, even if Blitzø wasn't exactly sure what Stolas was getting out of the deal, but he seemed eager enough to answer his questions and meet up with him for food and shit. And right now, Stolas had the potential to make Blitzø's day a lot less frustrating.

M&M didn't know fuck-all about the plant bullshit, and they were busy doing their actual work, trying to track down the shitheads who hospitalized the poor fuckers who were still in recovery, so they weren't going to be any help, and Loona was back manning the office solo. Blitzø didn't know enough about the dilemma his client was still freaking out about, which was why his finger was hovering over Stolas's number, for probably the fifth time that day. This wasn't a casual question Stolas could send a reply to when he had a minute, though.

But then, he supposed Stolas could always tell him to fuck off. It didn't hurt to ask, right? Maybe there was something Blitzø could offer, in return.

"Hey, Stolas," he said when the line picked up after the second ring.

"Blitzø! What can I do for you today?"

"I've got kind of a big favor to ask. Any chance you could get away for a little bit?"

Stolas was there in less than an hour.

He was all business when he showed up, and right away started discussing options with the landscaper—  apparently one of his usual suppliers flaked, and they were discussing how to deal with it. Unfortunately, the supplier had a bunch of specialty materials that weren't easily replaceable, so it meant redesigning a huge portion of the project they were working on if they wanted to meet the deadline they originally gave their client, and the designer for the project was one of the guys who had been hospitalized.

Their heads were bent over schematics for an hour, and then they were both running all over the place gathering materials and arranging mockups they could present to their client with substitutions that wouldn't require any of the missing materials.

Stolas had tossed the button-down he'd shown up in aside a while ago and was down to a thin white undershirt as he moved around plants and rocks and decorative lawn ornaments and helped the landscaper arrange their materials, and Blitzø wasn't staring. He wasn't.

Fuck, he was totally staring.

Being security for a landscaper was fucking boring on a good day, but it was significantly less boring when there was eye candy, and how was Blitzø supposed to stop himself from enjoying that kind of view? What the hell else was there to look at?

And if Stolas seemed to keep walking by where Blitzø was standing, and if the way he kept catching Blitzø staring only to wave cheerfully at him were any indication, he didn't seem to mind.

So Blitzø felt like he had free reign to ogle.

Even if Stolas wasn't interested, Blitzø could look. Looking never hurt anyone.

If he ended up jacking off to thoughts of Stolas in the tanktop and nothing else, his hair all in disarray from the physical activity, well. You couldn't really blame him, could you? He'd put on a goddamn show.

And the last time he walked by, Blitzø was almost certain there had been extra hip swaying action that was absolutely not necessary.

Hell, if he didn't know better, he would've thought Stolas was actively teasing him.

He probably just hadn't gotten laid in far too long, though, and had an overactive imagination. That would definitely explain it.

It was nearly dusk, but they had a new plan, and his client was calm again, and Blitzø hadn't been shouted at once since Stolas got there.

He owed him, big time.

"Hey," he said, catching Stolas on his way out to his car.

"Oh, Blitzø! Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah, Mox is on his way to take over so I'm out. I, uh. I'm gonna make it up to you somehow, for helping me."

"Oh, that's not necessary—"

"Stol, you have a whole ass business you abandoned to come here. Who's running it right now?"

"Oh, my daughter!"

Blitzø blinked. "Your daughter?"

"Did I not mention? Yes, my darling Octavia! She doesn't love helping at the store, but she is certainly capable, and I asked her to fill in for me today and she agreed. Also, I do have other employees. Well, one. He's perfectly capable of seeing to it for a few hours without me there. And I will have more soon, I hope!"

Blitzø frowned. "Well, still. This was a huge favor."

"Not at all, it was fun! You know how I love a good puzzle."

"Stolas." Blitzø grabbed Stolas's wrist and tugged on it so he was facing him and could look him in the eye. "Stop it. Don't act like— like it was just nothing. It's not. And I want to return the favor."

"Um," Stolas said, eyes dropping down to fix on where Blitzø's hand was still wrapped around his wrist. "What did you— have in mind?"

Wait. Was Stolas blushing? Was he uncomfortable? Blitzø dropped his wrist, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, and how very still Stolas had gotten. Stolas was taller— much taller— but the way he stood, slightly hunched and curled in on himself, the height difference felt insignificant.

Blitzø almost gave the impression he was looming over him, which shouldn't be possible. He was barely over five feet to Stolas' more-than-six. But he felt tense, and his skin was heating up, and he couldn't quite tell if Stolas was waiting for him to attack him, or—

"What do you want?" Blitzø asked, and he meant it to be a challenge, a taunt, because Stolas so far was determined not to ask for anything at all, but it came out quieter than he intended.

"I don't—" And Blitzø knew, he just knew, that Stolas was going to dodge the question, and he felt a flare of irritation light him up from inside, right at his core. He took a step forward, and now Stolas was backed up against his car, and Blitzø put a hand out to rest against the car, which also conveniently blocked off Stolas's escape route.

"What. Do you want." This time, it was definitely a challenge.

"Um," Stolas said, sounding strangled, almost a whine, and Blitzø felt a burning need twist sharply low in his belly, but he'd be damned if he was going to touch him without an unambiguous invitation. He could wait.

"I can't—I don't want a—no debts. I'm— I've had enough of, of obligations," he stammered, looking conflicted. He stared down at his hands, and there was sadness in his expression, and Blitzø knew that was most definitely not an enthusiastic yes. He started to pull away, but then Stolas looked up and started to follow, reaching for him before hesitating, extending a hand that closed on empty air. "I—wait! I don't—don't go?"

Blitzø looked him over again, at a loss. He seemed distressed, which was... not a great sign. "You still haven't answered my question," he pointed out, and Stolas' eyes shimmered, and oh fuck, was he going to cry? Did Blitzø actually make him fucking cry?

"I want to, to be able to... keep spending time with you," Stolas said, choosing his words with care.

"Okay," Blitzø said, and took another step back, just enough that Stolas wasn't trapped, and had enough space to move past him, if he wanted to. Stolas looked like he was about to reach for him again, which was fucking confusing. But he didn't, and that was almost worse.

"Are you upset with me?" Stolas asked after they stood that way in silence for a moment, and Blitzø looked up at him sharply, focus intense.

"The fuck? No, why would I be?"

"I assume that... was not the answer you wanted," he said quietly, barely above a whisper.

Blitzø huffed out a growl of frustration. "I didn't want a specific answer. If you answered me honestly, that's the answer I wanted. That's it."

Stolas frowned, a look of confusion crossing his face, similar to how he looked working on a particularly difficult puzzle. Blitzø thought maybe there were some questions he should probably ask, but definitely not right now.

"I need to get home, and so do you. Thanks for your help."

"You... are welcome," Stolas said, but he still didn't move. Blitzø gave it another moment before he turned to walk over to his van.

Clearly he fucked something up, like he always did, but hell if he could figure out what or how. Maybe he'd been too aggressive, or stared a little too much. He cranked up the music on the drive home and let it drown out the noise in his head, and it helped a little.

Even though he was tired, it took him hours to fall asleep.

*

Blitzø woke up with a headache, a desperate need for caffeine, and a text from Stolas.

[Stolz🌿 3:26 am]: I am sorry for my behavior yesterday. I know you said you were not upset with me, but I have acted poorly. I hope you can forgive me.

Blitzø ran a hand down his face. Coffee. He absolutely could not deal with this without coffee. He had some time to kill before he had to be at work, and decided today was an iced coffee from the good place down the street kind of day.

They never made his order exactly as he asked for it, no matter how simple it was, but he hardly cared because the coffee was good, never burnt or stale, and they didn't add too much sweetener like most places did. He sipped at his drink, enjoying the cool liquid as it settled into his stomach, and held the condensation-covered cup against his forehead for good measure. The chill was grounding, and also shook the last of his pre-caffeine morning stupor off. He grabbed the tray of coffees for the office and when he got in his van and set it aside so his hands were free, he took his phone out, and opened up the text conversation.

[8:23 am] s al gud. wer fyn

It may not be the longest text he'd ever sent, but it would have to do.

Stolas didn't respond until Blitzø was about the head home for the day once more, even more irritated than the previous day, because his client was being worse than ever about letting him stick to his actual job, which was security. He was not a fucking gardener. Or worse, a gardener's bitch errand boy.

[Stolz🌿 4:31 pm] I am still sorry. Can I buy you lunch? If you're not too busy this week?

Blitzø thought about his schedule, and his irritation rose to an inferno.

[4:57 pm] don thik so. dud's mkin me wish i rly WUZ an sassin. no tyme

It wasn't a lie, he was definitely busy. But he also needed a couple days. Time to sort his shit out, figure out how to be friends with the super pretty, mixed-signal-sending plant store new friend guy. God, he was such an asshole. Why couldn't he just be normal? It wasn't like Stolas had actually done anything wrong. Just... confusing.

[Stolz🌿 5:04 pm] Oh. Okay, well, please let me know if you have time later, then. Or if there is another way I might apologize properly.

Blitzø ran a hand down his face, groaning. This fuckin' guy.

[5:05 pm] cn i stp by aftr werk tmr? got mor ?s

[Stolz🌿 5:05 pm] Certainly! You are always welcome.

Fucking hell.

*

Blitzø ended up having to bail on plans the next day when Moxxie dug up a lead on the thefts that needed to be looked into right away, and the only person available to do it was Blitzø. He got distracted and didn't end up texting Stolas until almost dinner time that he'd gotten held up, and while Stolas didn't seem to mind, something about it lingered in the back of Blitzø's mind and wouldn't let go.

He ended up calling him, because that was all he could manage right then, and it rang so long he thought maybe Stolas wouldn't pick up, but finally he heard the click of the line connecting.

"Blitzø?"

"Hey. Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier, there was a sudden thing with the job. Got distracted."

"Yes, you said as much in your text. I understand, you don't owe me an explanation."

Blitzø grunted, the lingering turning into an itch, an irritant, clawing at the back of his mind. "Still was pretty rude."

Stolas snorted. "Just a little, perhaps."

"Didn't want you to think I was blowing you off."

Stolas made a small noise that was difficult to parse over the phone. "That is very considerate of you."

Blitzø scowled. "Basic fucking manners."

Stolas laughed, and something felt lighter in Blitzø's chest. They ended up talking for a while, mostly just about their day— Stolas had a little kid in his shop looking for flowers for his mother, which Stolas found precious and couldn't seem to resist describing the kid's every word in detail. But it was cute.

Blitzø was pretty sure he'd be busy the next day pursuing their lead, but they made plans for the day after, and Blitzø was glad he'd decided to make the call.

*

Blitzø decided they all needed a break. Frustration on the job was building, Stolas was stressed out about the low foot traffic in his shop that didn't seem to want to pick up, and his mood wasn't great either.

Luckily, he'd found the perfect outlet. He almost invited Fizz, too, but their reconciliation was so fragile and recent, and on top of that Fizz had been crazy busy lately so Blitzø chickened out and deleted the text at the last minute.

"Are you certain this is safe?"

"Would they make us read like eight different safety packets and sign them if it wasn't safe?"

"It's precisely the multiple waivers we must sign that have me anxious, actually. There was one indicating that any injuries sustained are not the responsibility of the establishment, and frankly, it does not inspire all that much confidence."

"Aw c'mon, Stols, it's axe throwing! They gotta say that shit."

"I'm inclined to agree with Mister Goetia," Moxxie added, and Stolas cringed.

"Stolas, please, I insist. And thank you, I'm glad not everyone here lacks any and all self-preservation instincts."

"I bet it'll be fun!" Millie said, bouncing up and down with glee. "I've always wanted to learn how to use an axe!"

"Bet I can score higher than you," Blitzø said with a manic grin, and then he and Millie were sprinting toward the registration counter, leaving their stack of signed waivers behind.

"We'd better make sure they don't hurt themselves," Moxxie sighed, resigned, as he gathered up the forms.

"I suppose you're right," Stolas said, and they both followed after Blitzø and Millie, with noticeably less enthusiasm.

When Blitzø introduced them earlier, Millie and Moxxie were both their usual friendly selves, and Stolas looked a little calmer than he had when Blitzø first suggested they all go together. Millie asked him a flurry of questions that ranged from if he had venus fly traps in his shop to what his favorite ice cream flavor was, and while Moxxie started off more subdued, he was eager to join the conversation when it turned to music and art, two topics they both had a lot of opinions on, some aligned and some definitely not.

The small talk continued until it was their turn to approach the throwing range. Of course Millie wiped the floor with the rest of them, taking to it like she was born for it, which didn't surprise Blitzø in the slightest. He could almost keep up with her, too, which he thought was pretty damn impressive for having never touched an axe before in his life. He kind of wished Loona had come because he knew she'd be good at it, too, but she was out with friends instead. Blitzø was determined to convince her to try it with them another time.

Stolas only managed to hit the target once and very nearly separated an employee from his arm right after, at which point he refused to throw any more. That decision was clearly a relief to the completely uninjured employee.

Stupid asshole was standing too close to the targets, if you asked Blitzø. Sure, he'd been standing behind Stolas at throwing line, but he didn't have to be in the room! It was on him if he lost limbs at an axe throwing range. He knew what he'd signed up for.

They were all chatting happily after their axe throwing session when, on their way out, Moxxie realized they also had escape rooms next door and was instantly determined to drag them all through one. They'd never interested Blitzø much, sounding kind of contrived and corny and with no real stakes to make them exciting, but Stolas was clearly excited about it, so he shut his mouth and went along with them without complaining.

Moxxie and Stolas were immediately in their element, enthusiastically examining the clues and inspecting the room for all the little hideaways and crevices with hidden keys, and pouring intently over the puzzles, with Millie enthusiastically cheering them on.

Blitzø tried to help because he loved nothing more than showing up Mox, but kept getting distracted whenever he looked at Stolas. When he was really concentrating, he got little lines around his eyes and in the furrow between his eyebrows, and he had a habit of rubbing his fingers together sometimes when he was thinking really hard, or waving his hands around enthusiastically when he figured something out, and it was just... really fucking cute.

Not hot, just cute. He could do this. Friends could think about how their friends were cute. It happened.

So Stolas and Moxxie figured out most of the clues, and he and Millie were there purely for moral support, leering, and plenty of lewd flirting, because they were menaces (Friends could flirt too, it's fine!! He flirted with M&M all the time!), and they ended up finishing the puzzle with a whole minute and thirty seconds to spare.

The fact that he got Stolas to laugh so hard he started choking on air was also a big victory, and they all left in a much better mood than they'd been in when they arrived. Blitzø thought after a while, the ache he felt when he thought about how badly he wanted Stolas's hands on him would probably fade, and he'd get used to being friends with him. He just needed a little more time.

The only reason Blitzø walked Stolas out to his car was because he wanted to give Millie and Moxxie a minute to themselves, and had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding Millie's smirking glances or wanting to make future plans with Stolas without an audience. An invasive audience that loved to provide commentary.

The fact that they spent the entire drive to drop them off interrogating him for every detail about what he'd said was probably unavoidable, but he didn't have to tell them shit.

As soon as Blitzø stepped out of his van in the lot in front of Blue Star, he knew something was wrong. It did not take long at all to figure out what the problem was.

He could hear shouting from within the store, and hurried inside to find the source. There was a woman, tall and well-dressed and shrieking loudly at Stolas, who was hunched over behind the counter looking equal parts irritated and embarrassed.

"You're such a stupid, pathetic little worm! You have no right to poison her against me!"

"I am doing no such thing. Via has asked to be allowed to stay home today, and I am simply—"

"You are a goddamn liar, and you're not even good at it!"

"There a problem here, bitch?" Blitzø slid up next to her, getting in her space, just enough that she took a couple steps back. He wasn't tall enough to break her line of sight with Stolas, but he sure as hell could put himself in between them, because he did not like the way she was looking at him at all, let alone the shit she was spewing at him.

"Who the fuck are you?" She said, and then immediately gave a careless shake of her head before Blitzø could say a thing. "Never mind, I don't care. This doesn't concern you; leave us."

She actually had the audacity to shoo him, and oh, this bitch.

"Stella, you are the one who needs to leave," Stolas interrupted, forcefully, but Blitzø could see the panic rising beneath his thin veneer of calm, clearly distressed, and he felt his anger deflate slightly. "This is my place of business, which you are disturbing. I have full custody, which means I have the final say over whether or not you are allowed to see Via, and I am sorry, but today I am forbidding it. We can revisit the issue next week, but only if you leave right now."

Stella's eyes narrowed, but after a moment she huffed and turned to leave with a toss of her hair. "This is not over, Stolas. Octavia needs her mother; even you cannot be vapid enough to not realize that!"

Blitzø glared at the door for a minute even after she disappeared through it, feeling the rage churn and boil under his skin. "Some ex you've got there, Stols," he muttered, and when he turned to look at Stolas all the remaining anger evaporated as soon as he took in Stolas's appearance.

He looked tired, mostly. Tired and miserable. He let out a hollow, humorless bark of a laugh before dropping his face into his hands. "You have no idea."

Blitzø wanted desperately to reach out, to reassure him somehow, but was pretty sure it wouldn't be welcome, so he didn't.

"At least you have full custody?" He offered, and that got Stolas to look up at him, a small smile struggling valiantly to make an appearance.

"Yes, it is one small mercy amongst the vast collection of miseries that encompass our acquaintanceship. She made the mistake of leaving a visible bruise right before our court appearance, and it somewhat undermined her arguments."

Blitzø felt his stomach drop, every hair on his arms standing on end. "She bruised you?"

"Oh, just the once," Stolas said, with a dismissive wave of a hand. "The vast majority of her attacks are purely verbal in nature, but every now and then she does seem to be unable to overcome the impulse to throw things."

Blitzø let that sink in for a moment, grinding his teeth together as he fought to keep calm. "She do that often? The yelling, and saying shitty stuff to you."

"Just about every week, yes," Stolas admitted with a sigh. "I can't bring myself to force the issue and cut off her contact with Octavia entirely, not as long as Via wants to try to maintain a relationship with her. Usually Via will meet her and I can avoid having to speak with her directly, but today Via wasn't feeling up to seeing her, and Stella does not like when she doesn't get her way."

Blitzø thought about how Stella had been shouting and angry, and Stolas just stood there and put up with it. He looked around at all the small pots and vases that had been within her reach and definitely weren't bolted down, and wondered what would have happened if he hadn't walked in when he did. If this would have been one of those times when she failed to control her impulse, as Stolas had described it.

"Hire me," he blurted, before fully thinking it through. But as soon as he'd said it, he realized it was the best option, and exactly what he wanted to do.

"I beg your pardon?" Stolas asked, looking bewildered.

"You heard me. I do security. Protecting people from pieces of shit who want to cause harm is my specialty. Actually, no, fuck hiring me, I still owe you for helping me at work. I'll do it for free. Is she always here around this time on Fridays?" Blitzø pulled out his phone and added a weekly reminder to his calendar.

"Blitzø, that is completely unnecessary," Stolas said, and Blitzø fixed him with a hard stare.

"You said she gets violent, and won't listen. Having another person here as backup might make her think twice, and that could be enough. The fact that I have a weapon is just a fun little bonus. It's not a problem, and also I'm doing it whether you like it or not, so fucking deal with it."

If Blitzø thought Stolas actually didn't want him there, he would reconsider pushing so hard, but he was pretty sure Stolas just had idiotic ideas about not being an inconvenience, which brought back his need for violence with a burning intensity. So he stared Stolas down, who turned red, and ran his hands through his hair in agitation, but stopped arguing.

Victory for Blitzø.

"It's about time for your lunch break, right?" He asked, glancing around the empty shop.

"Oh, I'm not very—"

"Well, I am. Let's grab something, and we can bring it back for later if you're still not hungry. Maybe get some for Octavia while we're at it."

"Oh," Stolas said, deflating a little. "I hadn't—yes, that would be considerate. I will see if she would like anything in particular."

"Great."

Stolas closed and locked up the shop, putting out his be back soon sign, and when he got a response from Octavia, their destination was decided for them.

They were getting sandwiches, and that was fine with Blitzø.

*

"You must allow me to compensate you for your time, somehow."

"We already went over this. I owe you, and I'm not giving you a choice, so you're not allowed to pay me."

"Well, I truly cannot afford to pay you fairly anyway, I suppose. But there must be some way I can return your generosity. I don't suppose you need landscaping, or are in the market for any exotic houseplants?"

Blitzø turned to stare at Stolas. "I live in a tiny apartment with no yard, Stols. I can barely fit me and Looney, and we travel a lot for jobs."

"Yes, right," he said, looking crestfallen. "That would not make much sense, then."

Blitzø decided distraction was probably his best move in this instance. "We need to grab some cameras."

"Cameras?"

Blitzø took a big bite of his meatball sub before he had a chance to answer, and studied Stolas out of the corner of his eye while he ate it. Stolas mostly looked confused now rather than distressed, which had been his goal.

"Yep," he said, swallowing and licking some stray marinara sauce from the corner of his mouth. "Gonna put one out front of the store and one inside. If she throws anything else, we'll have a record of it. You should probably have them for security anyway, honestly."

"I... I suppose you are... not wrong." Stolas sounded a bit out of breath, and Blitzø wondered if he was actually uncomfortable with the idea of cameras in his shop. He supposed feeling surveilled all the time wasn't exactly cause for relief, but it was important, and he wasn't about to back down.

"I want to go through and make sure your devices are secure, so she can't track you if you don't want to be found. She know any of your passwords?"

They spent most of the lunch break going through Stolas's phone and accounts, upgrading some of his privacy settings and changing a few old passwords, anything that might make it more difficult for Stella to make a nuisance of herself. Stolas stopped interfering and let Blitzø work after a while, although he never stopped asking questions. That was good, though. It meant he would be more likely to actually follow his recommendations, probably, which was more than he could say about most of his idiot clients.

People just didn't like doing things that were a little more annoying, even if it was safer. Not that he was any better about it, but whatever.

Do as I preach annoyingly about and not as I do, and all that shit.

After their lunch break was over, Octavia agreed to watch the store while they went through Stolas's apartment, because Blitzø also needed to make sure that was secure. Basic part of the job and all. It'd be pretty fucking stupid if he went to the trouble of setting Stolas's devices up and it turned out she could just walk into the building without a problem.

Luckily, there wasn't too much he needed to do there— Stolas had a decent apartment, the lock worked and it was on the second floor, so no need to worry about other entrances, really. No one was getting in through the windows without some serious equipment or some very complicated acrobatics.

Stolas was following him around all over the apartment, and was staying quite close. Observing everything he was doing, he supposed. Or maybe he was worried about Blitzø being in his space?

"I'm not gonna like, fuckin' steal your shit or break anything, you know. I may be a reckless asshole, but I am good at my job, and past my klepto phase. Scout's honor."

"What? Oh! No, of course. That is not—I did not intend to insinuate—"

"Alright, whatever," Blitzø cut him off before he could continue his embarrassed stammering. "No need to get all twitchy about it."

It maybe came out a little irritable, but sue him. Stolas could be infuriating sometimes, and was the absolute prince of sending mixed messages. He was uncomfortable, but stayed close. He wasn't interested, but he always seemed to want to know Blitzø's opinion on everything. Plus, he watched him a lot. And now there was touching, too. Tapping his shoulder to ask a question, pulling him along to show him where he kept his spare key, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as he explained that the painting in the hallway was by none other than his daughter.

It was a fucking cool ass painting, but Blitzø couldn't goddamn concentrate on it because Stolas kept fucking touching him. And then he'd pull away, and do something or say something and it was obvious he was uncomfortable and putting distance between them.

What the fuck.

"Okay, we should probably get back and rescue your kid from store duty."

"Oh—yes, of course." Stolas opened the door, and fucking stepped back to allow Blitzø through, and he was about ready to explode.

"What the fuck," he said, unable to let it remain in his head this time.

"What?"

Blitzø looked pointedly at the open door, and then back at Stolas. "You're being fucking weird and, like—formal. Knock it off." It wasn't the formality that was the problem, really, but how do you say stop touching me and make it not sound—ugh. Why was being friends so fucking hard?

"Ah," Stolas said, and he just looked so damn crushed.

Blitzø felt like screaming. Why did he have to make everything impossible? "Don't have a fucking crisis, just—act normal!"

"I'm afraid I am having somewhat of a difficult time with that at the moment," Stolas said, his eyes darting out the door and up to the ceiling and then down to the floor—just about everywhere except for Blitzø—his voice high and unsteady.

Blitzø wanted to shove him up against the wall and pin him there and get an answer from him (a whole lot more than that, really) but that did not go very well last time, and also he wasn't an asshole. At least, not that kind of asshole. And he was still trying to get a handle on the friends thing, too. Fucking dammit.

He felt a little like he was losing his mind.

"Am I freaking you out with all the security stuff?" He asked, taking in the way Stolas was fidgeting.

"No, not at all," Stolas said, leaning in before stopping himself, eyes widening, and pulling back. Blitzø clenched his fists, hard, nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

"So, what is it, then?"

"Um."

Stolas swallowed, and got redder. He also didn't answer right away.

"Do I have to fucking pin you down to get an actual answer out of you?"

"Uhhh," Stolas said, and flushed crimson, and his expression went suddenly very much not uncomfortable. It almost looked like—

"I would like that quite a lot," Stolas said, and then looked horrified, as though he hadn't meant to say it, but he had, and it set every nerve in Blitzø's body alight. He took two quick steps forward, as though pulled by a string tied around his dick, and then Stolas was up against the wall in front of him, and it was just like the other day, and the deja vu was disorienting.

"You turned me down."

"I—what?" Stolas was breathing hard, eyes flicking from Blitzø's mouth up to his eyes and back. He was curled in on himself, but his hands kept drifting toward Blitzø's jaw before he would pull them back again.

"Are you interested, or aren't you?"

Stolas whined, a soft noise in the back of his throat, and Blitzø felt something in him snap. He curled his fist into Stolas's shirt, getting a good grip on it, and yanked him down to eye level, because the bitch was too fucking tall, and then he bit down on Stolas's bottom lip.

It was a little more forceful than he'd meant, but Stolas had been pushing him to his limit. His mind went abruptly blank when Stolas gasped and moaned, very clearly enjoying the sensation, and Blitzø reached up to bury his other hand in Stolas's grey hair, tugging on it as he kissed Stolas deeply, drinking in the little pants and whines he got with just about every press or lick or tug.

It was addicting, and Blitzø felt drunk on the sensations. He shuddered when Stolas put a hand on his hip, and then slowly dragged it up and over his ribs, pulling the fabric of his shirt up just a little to reveal a strip of skin, and Blitzø could feel the cool air trail after the heat that Stolas's fingers left behind.

"This is," Blitzø mumbled between kisses, "really unprofessional."

"Mm," Stolas hummed, not seeming terribly concerned.

He was also still hunched over, held in place by Blitzø's grip on his shirt, which was getting wrinkled. Blitzø glanced over and spotted a couch in the living room, and started tugging Stolas with him as he gradually made his way over to it, Stolas's mouth attached to his halfway until he started nipping along Blitzø's jaw across to his ear, and then yelped as Blitzø tugged him down to the couch where Stolas landed half on top of him, but at least he didn't have to bend down in a way that can't have been comfortable.

"Answer one question for me," Blitzø said, before Stolas could go back to kissing down his neck.

"Anything," Stolas said, tone pleading. God, that was hot. Blitzø needed to focus.

"You pushed me away last time," he said, "when I asked what you wanted." Stolas froze. "What changed?"

"N-Nothing, I suppose," Stolas said, and Blitzø shot him a very unimpressed look.

"Sorry," he said, sitting up, and no, that was not what Blitzø wanted, they weren't doing this again. He sat up so he could reach him to bury his hand back in Stolas's hair and hold him there. Stolas's eyes went wide, and his eyes drifted shut as he went pliant in Blitzø's grip.

Fucking hell.

"Why," Blitzø growled, and Stolas shuddered.

"I was—afraid," he admitted, squeezing his eyes together. "I didn't—I-I was so sure it would go horribly, that I would... If we—and I—"

Blitzø tugged on his hair, just enough to get his attention, and Stolas gasped and fell silent, watching him. "Okay, I get that you're freaked out. You do know there are more options other than everything is perfect all the time and everything sucks forever, right? Most stuff is somewhere in between."

Blitzø waited a bit for Stolas to stop looking quite so distressed, releasing his hair to trail his fingers lightly across Stolas's skin, and gradually he started to relax, his eyes drifting shut.

"So we can try things, whatever you're up for, and if it goes badly we'll adjust." When Stolas opened his eyes to study him, Blitzø added, "I'm good at adjusting." He threw in an eyebrow wiggle for emphasis.

Stolas laughed, soft and breathy, and Blitzø leaned in to kiss him, because he had to. Stolas's mouth opened for him, effortless and eager, and Blitzø was pretty sure he could kiss him for hours and be perfectly content.

When they broke apart for air, Stolas dropped his forehead down against Blitzø's chest, his hand clinging tightly to Blitzø's sleeve. "So, even if I'm not—very good at, you know. We can still be—you won't just. Well. L-Leave? Disappear?"

Stolas sounded so vulnerable, and Blitzø could not imagine anything Stolas could possibly do that would make him think leaving was anything but the worst idea anyone had ever had.

"Of course not," he said, putting as much emphasis as he could on the words, willing Stolas to believe him. Knowing that it wasn't that easy. "Why would I?"

Stolas kept his eyes closed, took a breath, and softly, in a rush that sounded like he was trying to get it out before he lost his nerve, said, "Because everyone does."

That's my line, Blitzø thought to himself.

"I'm sorry, I—I have been terribly unfair to you, haven't I," Stolas said with a groan.

"Hm." Blitzø ran his hand through his hair, tidying a few flyaway strands. It got Stolas to look up at him again, and he smirked.

"So make it up to me. That's basically our thing, right? Trading favors?"

Stolas blushed, and then nodded. "I can do that," he said. "What would you like?"

Blitzø hummed in thought, exaggerated and dramatic, leaning back and forth and scrunching up in a frown. "Hmmmm, what do I wanttttt, I don't knowwww," he said, and Stolas chuckled, still nervous, but less than he had been before.

Blitzø leaned forward to peck him on his smiling mouth, and then wriggled out from underneath him so he could jump up off the couch, holding out a hand. "For now, you have a shop to get back to."

"Oh! I can't believe I forgot." Stolas took his hand and stood up after him, and then followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs toward the shop. "I will have to do something nice for Via as an apology."

Neither of them let go the whole way there.

Stolas stared at the vase full of flowers in front of him, and scowled at it.

It was vibrant and colorful, full of expensive varieties of flowers that had elaborate meanings relating to devotion and affection and all sorts of things that only someone with his extensive knowledge of floriography would know without doing a lot of extra research. It was balanced and appealing to look at, and huge. He needed his largest vase to accommodate the arrangement.

And it was totally, completely wrong.

He was looking for something nice to give Blitzø—his best, and pretty much only, friend, who had been incredibly patient with him and done so much for him and was still being unbelievably kind and wonderful and generous, and he just knew giving him a fancy arrangement of flowers was not it. That was Stolas's hobby, not Blitzø's. And he was currently dealing with a particularly irritating landscaper! This was a terrible idea.

He returned the flowers to their individual displays, starting over with an empty vase. Once again, he made a circuit of the shop, looking for flowers that spoke to him, that reminded him of Blitzø, but the truth was there just weren't any.

There was nothing quite like Blitzø.

He sighed, and gave up on the endeavor for the time being. He would think of something eventually. He had to find a way to show Blitzø how much he appreciated him, how much his efforts have meant to him, especially putting up with his... everything.

If flowers wouldn't do the trick, he would find another way.

He owed him that much, at least.

*

The next Friday afternoon, Blitzø was at the Star in time to oversee Via leaving to spend a couple days with Stella, as they'd agreed. This time Via went out to meet her and she didn't even have to leave her sleek sports car, so there was no confrontation, and Stella didn't seem inclined to go anywhere near the shop. Stolas wasn't sure if Blitzø lingering by the front door and scowling menacingly was a deterrent or not, but he wasn't about to question it. And it certainly made him feel better.

Blitzø gave his employees the day off, and Stolas decided to close his shop a little early, so they suddenly found themselves alone together with an abundance of free time.

Making out in Stolas's apartment was pretty much inevitable.

It started with Stolas offering to make food, which Blitzø eagerly agreed to. But they never made it to the kitchen, because Blitzø took a detour, tugging him over to the couch again instead, and the moment Stolas sat down he crawled into his lap.

"You're too fuckin' tall," he said, slightly muffled as he had his mouth pressed into Stolas's neck and was alternating between nipping at the skin and then licking the spots he'd bitten, and Stolas was trying very hard not to sound like he was auditioning for a role in some sort of pornography.

"Can't... help it," Stolas said between gasps, finding it more and more difficult to string a sentence together under Blitzø's concentrated attention.

"I like it, even though it's annoying when I can't reach," Blitzø said, his fingers teasing at the hem of Stolas's shirt, dipping under the edges only to pull back and drag across his chest over the top of the fabric. "And your long-ass legs," Blitzø added, and then stopped talking as be busied his mouth kissing and biting at every inch of exposed skin he could find.

Stolas was pretty sure if he tried to stand, said legs would crumble under his weight. He clung to Blitzø's back, holding him close, wanting so many different things and also for Blitzø to just keep doing exactly what he was doing.

"Don't stop," Stolas said, bringing his hand to the back of Blitzø's head and holding it there, punctuating the request.

"Wasn't planning on it," Blitzø said, hands dipping back under his shirt before moving lower, fingers just grazing along the waist of his slacks, flicking the zipper but leaving it where it was to rub across the top of Stolas's clothed thighs, then back up along the inside seam.

"Mmnh, Blitzø," Stolas whined, shifting his hips, desperate for Blitzø to touch him.

"Needy, aren't you," Blitzø said, but he ground his hips right back, and Stolas moaned loudly in response. "You like that?" He asked, grinding again, harder, and Stolas nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, please, more," he begged, tugging at Blitzø's shirt, and then pulling it over his head when Blitzø lifted his arms obligingly. Stolas leaned in to kiss and suck at Blitzø's neck, wanting to return the favor, copying the way Blitzø had alternated his kisses with bites, and traced a path along his jaw, down his neck, across his collar, kissing and nipping along the way, unable to keep his hands still as he went, exploring all the newly exposed skin.

"Oh that's good," Blitzø sighed when Stolas found what must be a sensitive spot on his neck, and Stolas fixated on it, lavishing it with attention, and Blitzø's hands clawed at his sides and he writhed in pleasure. The drag of his nails felt exquisite, and Stolas bit harder, grinding up again, delighting in the moan that tore out of Blitzø. Abruptly the remaining clothes they hadn't yet removed were quite intolerable.

When Stolas moved to unzip his jeans, Blitzø knocked his hands aside to do it himself, and Stolas felt heat race through him, burning his ears and his cheeks, and need coiled tight and hot, low in his belly.

Blitzø had to slide off of him to get his jeans off all the way, and Stolas only had a moment to hate the distance and lack of contact before both their trousers were finally tossed aside. Before Stolas could reach for Blitzø's boxers, Blitzø dropped to the floor in front of Stolas and pushed his thighs apart, nosing at Stolas's underwear and licking at the skin along the hem, hands digging into Stolas's calves on either side, ignoring Stolas's needy whines as they increased in frequency and volume.

"I wanna eat you out. That work for you?" Blitzø asked as he pulled back to tug at Stolas's underwear, looking up at him with a hungry intensity.

Stolas nodded, sinking down into the couch.

"Talk to me, Stol," Blitzø said, fingers teasing at the fabric, and Stolas nudged him with a heel impatiently.

"Yes, I want your mouth, please, please," Stolas begged, and Blitzø grinned, wicked.

"Much better," he said, almost a purr, and pulled the hem down just far enough that he could get his tongue into Stolas's cunt, licking and teasing at the entrance, circling around it, banishing all coherent thought from Stolas's head as he burned with need.

Blitzø's tongue was a menace, searching and caressing his walls until he found all the spots that made Stolas gasp and moan, using his fingers strategically to tease and rub as well, at his thighs, across his stomach, and around his clit. It didn't take very long at all before Stolas was shuddering and succumbing to the waves of pleasure as his orgasm crashed through him, Blitzø's tongue and fingers stroking him and guiding him through it the whole time, until finally he was spent and boneless, and Blitzø climbed back on top of him, tucking his face up under Stolas's jaw and laying across him on the couch.

"Been wanting to do that for ages," Blitzø said, and Stolas giggled, unable to suppress it in his post-orgasm haze.

"Me too," Stolas admitted with a sigh, still getting his breath back. "The—anything, not necessarily—just. With you. And I... regret making you wait."

"Nah, it was like... real drawn-out, elaborate foreplay," he mumbled. There was a pause, and for a moment Stolas thought he might leave it at that. But then Blitzø asked, hesitant, "why did you, though? I mean, if there's something besides the whole freakout thing."

Stolas tried to gather the scattered fragments of his thoughts from where Blitzø had blown them apart, and it was a bit of a struggle. His mind felt molasses-thick, syrupy and slow.

"Moving here was... not easy," he said, and where usually words were always there for him, precise and comforting, finding the right ones suddenly felt like a herculean task. But Blitzø had asked him a question, and he owed him an answer.

"The past year has been unpleasant, particularly the divorce, as you've seen. Especially for Via. My family has always been... difficult, and had expectations, but they were also always there if I made an error. With judgement and scolding, or sometimes apathy—which was actually worse—but they were a constant. Even after I stopped being their daughter. Bigoted as hell, maybe, but they didn't kick me out. Then I left, and managed to find this place, had just enough to buy the Star before they cut me off for good. I was all by myself for the first time, except for Via of course. But she has been understandably reserved, with everything going on.

"Then you showed up, and you were..." Stolas couldn't possibly put into words what it had felt like, having something familiar after months of being here mostly alone. Horrifyingly, he felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and quickly blinked to try and clear them before Blitzø noticed. Which was stupid, of course, Blitzø was inches from him and watching him intently, but instead of getting angry (cease your bitch crying) he just reached out and wiped a finger underneath his eyes before finding his hand and squeezing it.

"I don't know, I've never had a... a friend, before. I didn't want... to ruin that, or lose it, somehow. And I've been told I am... less than adequate, when it comes to—erm, intimate activities."

"The fuck?" Of all the things to make Blitzø sit up and say something, it was that? Stolas felt a slightly hysterical laugh building, and the tears started to well up again.

"Sorry," he said, bringing his hands up to his face in embarrassment.

"No, I'm not—Stolas, whoever told you that is a fucking idiot. You're great." Blitzø growled in frustration and shook his head. "Great doesn't even—Whoever told you that is fucking stupid, and doesn't know how to—I mean, obviously I wasn't there, but I bet they were a selfish piece of shit. That's them, not you. You get that, right?"

"But—you didn't even—"

Blitzø scoffed. "I got exactly what I was after. And we can do more later if we want to, but I'm not in a rush. Gonna need food first, anyway," he said, and reached down to grab at the clothes they'd thrown aside.

"Oh, right. That was the original plan, was it not?"

"For you, maybe," Blitzø said, tossing Stolas's shirt in his face.

Stolas snorted, and the relief when Blitzø stayed to help him make—or rather, reheat—food, and eat it, and chat with him like normal, as though nothing had really changed, was everything to him.

They made it halfway through a movie before Stolas scooted closer to Blitzø, and when Blitzø glanced at him and grinned he reached for Blitzø's jeans again, and attempted to prove to himself that Blitzø was maybe possibly correct, about the sex stuff at least, which the noises and words that came pouring out of Blitzø's mouth seemed a fairly reliable indication that he might very well be right.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Starfire?" Stolas said, looking up from his phone and turning back into the room, away from the front door, which he'd been just about to exit through, on his way to see Blitzø.

"If I... if I ask you something, can it— can it stay between us?"

"Of course, darling! Always," Stolas said, and had to resist the urge to wrap her up in a hug. "Well, provided no one is in immediate danger, at least."

Octavia shuffled her weight from foot to foot, a hand rubbing at her arm. Stolas felt worry begin to writhe in the back of his mind, churning out horrible scenario after horrible scenario.

Stella had hurt her. Or she wanted to go live with her, instead. She was sick, dying. She'd been hurt or attacked at school. She'd gotten kicked out. Or worse!

"Via?"

"I, um... I heard, when I was at Mum's yesterday... she was talking to Uncle Andrea."

"Well, she does that rather a lot," Stolas said slowly, and Octavia scowled.

"Ugh, I know. But it was about... I think they were talking about— about your shop."

"My shop? Why would they be talking about my shop? Unless they were discussing how I'm going to fail miserably, I suppose," he said dryly, and then immediately regretted it when Octavia looked sad.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't—I shouldn't say that kind of thing."

Octavia sniffed. "No... they do say that kind of stuff sometimes, and it's cruel and I don't like it, but that's not what I meant."

"Okay," Stolas said, taking a step closer. "What is it, then?"

"I'm not—totally sure, I only heard bits and pieces, before she hung up. But... She mentioned you, and it sounded like they were trying to interfere, I think. They were talking about costs, but it wasn't, like, normal business stuff, they were being all—dodgy and secretive. And they talked about looking for people who were willing to lie about something, and it was just... really suspicious."

"Hmm, that does seem odd, doesn't it. But we can't know for sure what they were discussing, darling."

Octavia nodded. "I know. And I wasn't sure if I should say anything, but..."

Stolas looked at her, shaken out of his thoughts by her downcast face and agitation. "Oh, Via, I am truly sorry you are in the middle of all this. I so wish I could keep it far away from you, and let you just be a teenager."

Octavia shrugged. "I know. I know you're trying. And I... I'm sorry I haven't been... a very good daughter."

"Oh Via, no," Stolas said, unable to stop himself from sweeping her into a crushing hug. "You are a wonderful daughter who is dealing with so much more than anyone should have to, and I am so glad to have you here with me," he said, kissing her cheek and then the top of her head over her beanie. "You have absolutely nothing to apologise for."

"I'm still sorry," Via said, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Stolas texted Blitzø to let him know he wouldn't be able to meet up with him for breakfast after all, that he was spending the rest of the day with Via, and got several pixellated confetti gifs back.

He could get Blitzø's opinion about the rest of it later.

*

"I think I'm gonna need M&M for this," Blitzø grumbled after a solid fifteen minutes of Stolas watching him poke at keys on a laptop at a table in Stolas's shop, his frustration growing with each flurry of fruitless typing. "I'm not super great at the fuckin'— research shit. That's what Mox is for."

"I do not wish for this to interfere with your work," Stolas said, and Blitzø leveled a glare at him across the table.

"I am my own boss, and I get to decide how I run my business," he said closing the laptop and turning to face Stolas directly.

"Of course, I did not mean to imply—"

"Stolas." He snapped his jaw closed. When he remained quiet, Blitzø softened, and then circled the table to approach the chair Stolas was sitting in, dropping his hands to the arms on either side and leaning in close.

"You're trying to be polite or respectful or whatever the fuck. Cut that shit out."

"I will... try," Stolas said, and he waited to see what Blitzø would do.

"Good," Blitzø said, and kissed him, first a quick peck, and then more slowly, tracing his tongue along Stolas's lip, pulling on it with his teeth.

The shop was empty, and they had at least an hour before Millie would return from her shift with the landscaper or Moxxie and Loona would be finished with a supply run, and Blitzø looked like he had plans for what to do with the time. Neither could seem to muster concern for the fact that a customer could walk into Stolas's shop at any moment.

"Tell me what you like," Blitzø said, and then made his directions much more difficult to follow by tracing his fingers along Stolas's waist where his shirt had ridden up, continuing underneath along his ribs and steadily higher.

"I-I," Stolas started, and then gasped when Blitzø reached a nipple, and then when Blitzø bit down on his neck, he forgot what words were entirely.

Blitzø kissed the spot he'd bitten, and then pulled back, his other hand still teasing him under his shirt. "You what?" He asked, grinning, and Stolas had just enough presence of mind to pinch at the part of his thigh he could reach.

"If you want me to talk, you're going to have to stop that!"

"What, this?" Blitzø pinched his nipple under his shirt, and Stolas yelped.

"Yes, that!" He slapped Blitzø's ass, because it was right there, and Blitzø smirked at him, his grin getting wider.

"Is that supposed to make me want to do it less?"

"Oh my god—" Stolas dropped his head onto Blitzø's shoulder and groaned, and Blitzø laughed at him, but he also pulled his hand out from under Stolas's shirt.

"Okay, okay. Seriously though. Likes? Dislikes? Before I do something you don't want."

"Um," Stolas said, thinking. "I suppose I don't much care for—um, name-calling. Mean things."

Blitzø's expression darkened for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Right. Got it."

"I do like... orders. I-Instructions."

Blitzø snorted, nodding. "Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out."

Stolas blushed, not sure how embarrassed he was that he'd been so obvious. And as he thought about it, he wasn't sure how much more he could really specify. "I admit I'm not very—I haven't tried, um, too many things. So. A lot of it may be—new, and I'm not sure yet. How I feel about it."

"Okay. Well, you know the colors, right?"

Stolas hesitated, his blush deepening at not knowing something that sounded like it should be obvious, and slowly shook his head.

"Oh. Uh, it's like a traffic light. Green means go, yellow slow down and check in, red is stop. Immediately, no questions, no judgement. Hard stop. For any reason."

"Okay," Stolas said, "that sounds simple enough."

"That's basically the point," Blitzø said, shrugging. "We can always get into more complicated rules if we need them, but it's a good place to start."

As Stolas felt his embarrassment begin to fade, he realized that even though there was something he didn't know, Blitzø hadn't made him feel— stupid, or anything, for not knowing. Just explained it, and now he seemed to be waiting for Stolas to catch up, without rushing him or... even seeming impatient.

It was novel, and... comforting.

"Um. What about you?" Stolas asked, realizing he had no idea what Blitzø liked. Or disliked.

Blitzø smiled, his eyes darkening. "I like lots of things."

Stolas felt a thrill shudder up his spine, and the hairs on his arms stood on end.

"As for dislikes... Don't keep shit from me. No lying, or doing something just because you think I want it. And I'm not gonna do that shit, either."

Stolas nodded, and resolved to be better about it, because that was... clearly something he struggled with.

"And, uh... no candles. No... open flames. I don't—long story, but. Yeah. Everything else... Just, ask first, I guess. If there's something you wanna try. If we find something I'm not into, I'll say so. And so will you."

"Yes," Stolas said, and when Blitzø looked at him with approval he felt himself get hot all over. Oh, he really liked that. He liked it a lot.

"Good boy," Blitzø said, and leaned in, and Stolas melted into a kiss, a bit softer and lazier than earlier, but no less heated.

They were still kissing when the door chimed, and they jumped apart.

They were lucky that time, all hands had been over clothes and above the belt, but later Stolas thought irritably about banning Blitzø from the shop during business hours if they couldn't manage to control themselves, because otherwise he might not have a shop to run for much longer, with or without interference from outside parties.

*

After Via got back from school and Blitzø's employees were done with work for the day, Millie, Moxxie, and Loona came over to Stolas's apartment so Blitzø could describe the situation, and Moxxie listened intently as Via went over what she overheard again before they spent some time doing research.

Or, Moxxie did. The rest of them had very little idea how to help, so they were mostly just talking.

"I knew this is where Blitzø kept disappearing to after work! I was wonderin' why he hadn't dropped by our place in a while," Millie said with a huge grin.

"Shut up, don't give him the wrong idea."

"You used to show up there a lot, hon," Millie said, punching him in the arm with a sly, teasing smile, and Blitzø swatted at her and threatened violence, but he was grinning the whole time. Stolas watched the exchange with interest, eager to see a side of Blitzø he hadn't gotten to witness yet.

"If you wouldn't mind toning down the roughhousing, you are making it very difficult to concentrate," Moxxie said, still focused intently on his search, and Millie leaned over to smooch him on the cheek.

"Sorry, baby," she said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, but Moxxie melted and gave her a dopey grin anyway.

Stolas couldn't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy over their obvious intimacy and the casual way they flirted with and touched each other. It wasn't too different from how they were at the escape room, but it was dialed up a little higher now they were somewhere it was just them, and seeing how much they cared about each other made him ache. It was exactly the kind of thing he'd always craved. But maybe, if he was lucky, he might finally get a chance at having that for himself.

He glanced over at Blitzø, and was a little startled to see that Blitzø had been watching him too, and he fought to keep his ferocious blush under control, which of course was a losing battle.

"Huh, that's weird," Moxxie muttered, and Blitzø was next to him in an instant, peering over his shoulder.

"What's weird?"

"I was looking through the search results for the shop," Moxxie said, scrolling down the page he was looking at. "You have some recent reviews that are... a bit unusual."

"Wow, what a bunch of shitheads," Blitzø said, after squinting at the screen for a moment. "Good find, Mox, I knew I kept you around for a reason."

Moxxie made a disgruntled face at him before returning his attention to the screen. "The thing is, I'm not certain these are from actual people, sir," Moxxie said, pointing. "Look at this profile—it was only created a month ago, and has only left the one review. Many of these are similar."

"Plus, they're all saying the same shit—you think someone is paying people to spam the shop with fake reviews?"

"I think it's very likely," Moxxie said, sounding grave. "You do realize who might be able to help with good publicity—"

"Ugh, no, I'm not not gonna ask. We're not there yet." Blitzø suddenly grinned, sharp and feral. "Besides, I already got a plan."

"Oh crumbs," Moxxie said, grimacing. "That look always means trouble. Usually for me."

"Unclench your A, Mox, my plan is flawless and perfect! We just need to make a countermove. First, you're good at the talk-y business bullshit, so you should contact whoever is running Stol's website and threaten them into removing those obviously fake-ass reviews. Then I bet I can get more positive reviews than any of you dickheads can in the next twenty-four hours starting now, let's GO!"

Millie cheered enthusiastically in response to Blitzø's challenge, Moxxie dropped his head onto the table with a soft groan, Loona continued to stare at her phone blankly and didn't react at all other than typing a little faster, and Octavia looked confused and a little intimidated, which Stolas thought matched his feelings pretty closely.

Watching Blitzø work, doing what he was good at, was mesmerizing. Stolas covertly observed him as he focused intently and started drawing on some loose paper, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the pages, occasionally breaking from it to bark more instructions at Moxxie, and Stolas couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Blitzø had crashed into his life and exploded like a firework, or maybe more of a supernova, his brightness and ferocity casting a warm light on everything around him, everything Stolas could see. Watching Blitzø exist and thrive near him, he felt an overwhelming warmth in his chest at the thought that Blitzø seemed to want to be near him, too, and Stolas yearned to be worthy of it.

He was determined to do everything he could to earn the privilege, and keep Blitzø close for as long as he was willing to stay.

It was Friday once again, and Stolas was panicking and trying not to show it as he spoke over the phone with his—with Blitzø.

"It's alright, your job must take priority, my dear. There is no need for concern, I have handled her for many years on my own." Stolas hoped that by saying it, he could convince himself it was true, as well.

"Yeah, but I still hate it. I wish at least one of us could have stayed with you, but we really need everyone to confront these shitty assholes."

"I know, darling. And once you do, your job will be completed successfully, and you will finally be free to move on to the next one and leave your client to resolve his own problems, which will be a huge relief because he's been driving you crazy. Just... be careful?"

"Yeah, yeah. I will, legs. I'm good at this."

"I know you are," Stolas said, and meant it. "I will see you tonight?"

"Bet on it," Blitzø said with confidence, and they ended the call.

Stolas took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was an adult, with his very own shop he oversaw, and he even had friends now that would drop everything to help him, if they could.

He opened the Blue Star, and tried to lose himself in cleaning and rearranging displays and checking inventory instead of the long hours between now and when the day would be over, with Blitzø back safe once he was finished with his work.

The hours seemed to pass at a glacial pace, dragging and making Stolas feel more and more on edge. The end of the school day, when Via would return, got closer minute by excruciating minute. There weren't even as many people in the shop as usual; they'd made a lot of progress evening out the reviews and getting the false ones taken down, but it would take time for the results of the damage that was already done to pass, and they were still recovering. It was hard to know how many people might've seen them in the time they were up, and it was hard not to worry that it was already too late.

Finally, after what felt like a day that lasted a year, Via managed to take the bus to the corner at the end of the street safely and texted him that she was almost there.

But she also said she didn't think she wanted to go with Stella today, and Stolas cringed at the knowledge that he was going to have a fight on his hands once more.

He would do it every time for Via, no question. But... he could admit that it had been nice having Blitzø there, last week, and he wished he could be here this time, as well. Nothing seemed quite as scary when he had Blitzø at his side to face it with him.

"Hey, Dad," Via said as she entered the shop through the front. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I really thought I was going to be up for it today, but after everything with the website, I just—wait, where's Blitzø?"

"He has to work today, sweetie, but he will return this evening."

Via frowned. "I thought he would be here. Maybe I should just go with her after all..."

"The decision is yours always, Starfire. But... I would not want you to feel pressured to go with your mother if you truly do not wish to, just for my sake. I can handle Stella."

"Octavia!" There was a very familiar voice following the chime of the front door as it opened again, and Stolas braced himself.

Stella shoved her way through the door, her long, white dress blinding, her many layered necklaces jangling together around her neck. She beckoned imperiously to Via, her long acrylic nails sharp, ring-covered fingers glinting in the light. "Come along, don't make me wait."

"Hey, Mum. Listen, I'm not feeling well—"

"Oh, not this whining again." Stella stormed up to the counter, looming over Via. "I drove all this way already, so we are leaving right now, young lady."

Stolas stepped up next to Via, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You will not speak to her that way!"

Stella's hand was quicker than Stolas was expecting, and she backhanded him across the face, hard.

Via gasped. "Mum, what the fuck is wrong with you!" She cried, her voice wavering. "Are you alright, Dad?"

Stolas felt a drop of liquid land on his hand where it was resting on the counter, and he could feel a second drop sliding down his cheek. One of Stella's many rings must have cut him; that would certainly explain the pain.

"I'm fine, Starfire," Stolas said, straightening, and turning to face down his ex with a hard glare. "Stella, your actions are unacceptable. Via will not be accompanying you today."

"Or ever," Via snarled from his side, and Stolas glanced at her, wide-eyed, before turning back to Stella. If that was what Via wanted, than Stolas would see it done.

"Get out, and do not return."

Stella looked between them, from Stolas to Via and back, and clenched her teeth in anger. But she also seemed to realize they weren't going to bend to her will today, and she was outnumbered.

"You'll regret this, you weak, worthless fool! I will ruin you, and it will be more obvious than ever that you were always a spineless, traitorous failure!" Stella screeched and turned for the door, shoving aside a table of decorative pots as she went, and several crashed to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

But finally the door drifted closed behind her and shop was empty apart from Via and Stolas, and he sagged against the countertop in relief.

Via rushed to his side, hugging him fiercely. After a minute she pulled away, running a hand over his back. "I'm going to get the first aid kit and a broom, I'll be right back," she said softly, and Stolas nodded.

He focused on his breathing, holding the air in his lungs before letting it out slowly, and eventually his pulse began to return to normal, and he was able to reassure Via that he was fine when she returned.

He decided to close early that day. He really wasn't up to smiling and chatting with people any longer, and he needed to be sure there were no dangerous pottery shards for someone to accidentally cut themselves on. After Via disinfected his scrape and he swept up the mess on the floor and wiped up the small traces blood, they went back to the apartment and he busied himself making dinner with Via hovering nearby, and they both made an effort to move past the terrible day and end it on a happier note.

Of course, the first thing Blitzø saw when he walked through the door of the apartment was the bandage on Stolas's cheek, and he went absolutely still.

"You've returned!" Stolas said, forcing cheer into his voice, determined not to make a big deal of it. "Via and I just finished eating, I wasn't sure when you'd be back, but you should help yourself. I'm not the best cook, but it was more or less edible today."

"Goodnight, Dad," Via said, giving him another quick hug before she retreated to her room. "Thanks for dinner."

"Of course, darling," Stolas said, and turned back to Blitzø, who was still standing just inside the doorway. "I hope everything went well with your job," he said, trying to maintain the fragile calm he'd managed to achieve while making food, reaching for the dishes to continue clearing the counters of the mess.

"Better than it did here, apparently," Blitzø said, dangerously quiet, as he slowly walked over to Stolas, eyes locked on Stolas's cheek. "You're hurt," he said, and then after a pause, "she do that?"

Stolas sighed. "Yes, but I am fine. She's gone, and Via does not want to see her anymore, so I will not be allowing her back in the future."

Blitzø stared for a moment, considering. "Cameras were live, right? You catch it, and make a copy of the recording? Bet the footage would be enough for a restraining order."

Stolas was starting to feel lightheaded, and dropped down into one of his kitchen chairs, since that was nearest. "I... suppose, if it comes to that. I hope it won't be necessary." He rubbed a thumb into his temple, then tried to drag it down his face and quickly regretted it when he brushed over his bandage and his cheek underneath stung painfully.

"I should've been here," Blitzø growled, fists clenched at his side. "If I was, you woudn't—"

"Hush," Stolas said, reaching out and pressing a hand to Blitzø's cheek. "You are not at fault. This is my... family drama, and the responsibility for the current situation lies solely with me."

Blitzø scowled, but leaned into Stolas's hand, and pressed a kiss into it. "Fucking sucks."

"Indeed."

Blitzø took a step closer and leaned in, pressing his forehead to Stolas's. "Also, that's horseshit. If I can't blame me, then you can't blame you, either."

"...Perhaps." That was not remotely true, but Stolas did not want to argue.

"I'm gonna be there next time."

"With any luck, there will not be a need," Stolas said, hating the idea of Blitzø anywhere near Stella. 

Blitzø seemed like he had more to say, but Stolas wasn't sure he could handle talking about it any longer. He pulled back with a yawn, his eyes tearing up and fatigue weighing down his eyelids. "Oh goodness, I am exhausted. I think I will start getting ready for bed a bit early today."

Blitzø opened his mouth and hesitated a moment before he said, "Okay."

Stolas then slid off the chair and around Blitzø, heading toward the bathroom.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Blitzø asked, and Stolas paused, shoving the disappointment down deep, because he would not ask Blitzø to stay if he didn't want to. And he wasn't sure what he wanted right now, anyway. He truly was bone-deep exhausted, and would likely not be pleasant company for a while. Maybe it was for the best that Blitzø stay away from him for the time being. Especially when he couldn't be sure Stella wouldn't retaliate again, somehow, and he would never forgive himself if she hurt Blitzø.

"Certainly," Stolas said, turning around to smile at him as soon as he thought he could make it look convincing.

"Great. Bye," Blitzø said, and was out the door before Stolas could process how quickly he left, or the fact that he didn't give him a proper goodbye before he was gone. And Blitzø hadn't even eaten anything.

But it was too late to stop him, and Stolas needed sleep desperately, so he would have to ask him about it later.

*

Stolas didn't see Blitzø the next day, or the day after. Customers began to trickle in, the number rising steadily over the following week, but it was still quite a bit slower than ideal. Stolas did figure out what it was Blitzø had been scribbling on the paper the day he'd been at Stolas's apartment with his employees, though.

There was a colorful handmade sign taped up by the register, with big, blocky letters that said: LIKE WAT U GOT? LEEV A REVU! and underneath was the website for the shop, written in a different, neater hand, and spelled correctly. There were several colorful doodles of flowers and some garden shears and a horse with a flower crown all decorating the edges of the sign. It was clearly made with a great deal of effort and thought.

Stolas's eyes started brimming over as soon as he saw it and he had to take a minute to catch his breath. Luckily, the customer he was trying to check out was very understanding when he tearfully gushed about why he was so worked up over the sign, and even followed the directions Blitzø wrote on it, leaving a very kind review on his page with a picture of the handmade sign alongside their purchases.

When Stolas sent Blitzø a thank you text, because he needed to tell him right away and didn't want to bother him at work by calling, he felt a heavy weight settle over his heart when all he got was a succinct np in return.

Blitzø wasn't terribly effusive over text generally, but he would be lying if he hadn't hoped for at least a little more. It was certainly possible that he was extra busy today, and when he looked at the sign again, he held on tightly to the swell of emotions it inspired in him.

Surely it meant there was something real between them, right? Maybe he was imagining the odd silence. It was so difficult to tell over text. He would just have to make sure Blitzø knew how much it meant to him the next time he saw him in person, when he could convey his feelings properly.

*

The next day, Stolas woke to a text from Via linking him to a news article with a timestamp and a surprise emoji. He poured himself tea while waiting for the site to load, and ended up inhaling a rather large sip when he read the headline.

Asmodeus and FizzaRolli were on a talk show discussing their recent engagement, and apparently mentioned Blue Star by name. Stunned, Stolas pressed play on the clip as soon as his coughing had subsided enough that he would be able to hear the words, and listened in a state of disbelief.

"Yep, we're planning on getting all our arrangements there for the wedding, a friend of mine said it's the best place around," FizzaRolli was saying, with a huge, dopey grin on his face as he looked at his fiancé.

"We're lucky it's still such a well-kept secret, as soon as everyone else sees their arrangements I'm guessing they'll be booked solid for a year," Asmodeus said, the arm behind FizzaRolli playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. After that, the discussion moved back to other topics surrounding their relationship and impending nuptials.

Stolas still couldn't believe it. He hadn't spoken to Asmodeus since the divorce proceedings began, and he assumed he'd been cut out, just like with the rest of the Goetias. It had hurt; Asmodeus was one of the only people in his former life that he'd enjoyed spending time with, but he understood not wanting to alienate the rest of his family, some of which were important business connections.

The day ended up being his busiest since his opening, and while he wasn't overrun just yet, he was definitely going to have to hire more employees if the current trajectory continued. He barely had time to himself from the moment he opened until close.

When he finally flipped the sign in the front window, his feet and legs were killing him from being on them all day without a moment to sit. He'd skipped lunch, as well, because he'd had no opportunity to close the shop or even get away to place an order for delivery, so he was starving.

He looked at his phone, and saw he had no new messages.

He desperately wanted to hear Blitzø's voice, but would Blitzø have time? Would he want to see him? He wasn't quite sure where they stood, he still hadn't seen him since the odd conversation in his kitchen, and there was a good chance Blitzø was still busy and that was why he hadn't called or texted all day.

He dialed the number for Asmodeus instead.

"Birdie babe!"

"Asmodeus," Stolas said, more than a little surprised at the familiarity.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you advance warning today, but Fizz said it should be a surprise. I'm so glad you called! How are you?"

"I am— alright, I think. Especially after today, that was very kind of you, thank you. I... admit it caught me very off guard. After the divorce, I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me."

"What? Why would I care about you getting a divorce?"

"Um. Well, it's not terribly good optics, I suppose? I've managed to make quite a mess of things. Aren't you already dealing with all manner of outcry from the public over your engagement?"

"Oh, Birdie, I don't care about any of that. I would have done this much sooner if I thought it would help you!"

Stolas swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.

"Why don't you come by some time and we can catch up, and I can go over our plans for the big day, see if it'll work out to hire you? Obviously I sprang this on you, and there's no obligation, but I'd love to go through with it if you can manage. How's next weekend?"

"I would enjoy that," Stolas said, holding his phone tightly. "Next weekend would be wonderful. Oh, but Via will have to come along."

"Absolutely! I can't wait to see her, it's been ages. How's school? I hope the move hasn't made it too difficult for her."

When Stolas hung up the phone, he felt like he'd left his world behind and stepped into an entirely new one. He hurried home to tell Via and make sure she would be willing to accompany him, and then turned his attention to posting a job listing, because he definitely needed more help in the store as soon as he could get it.

As he was drifting off to sleep he realized he never called Blitzø like he meant to, and felt a deep longing curl around his heart.

But it was so late... he decided he'd make sure to talk to him tomorrow.

*

The next day was just as busy as the previous one, but he'd recruited Via to help since she only had a half-day at school. He promised her it was only until he got another employee hired, but she seemed cheerful enough about lending a hand, and thanks to her he managed to set aside enough time for an actual lunch break that he could take after Via arrived to fill in for him.

When he finally collapsed into a chair with some food in the back room, he pulled out his phone and saw that he had a message from Blitzø. He felt a swell of delight and hurried to open it up.

[Blitzy💖 10:19 am] job iz dun, so wer packin up som stuf @ teh offis 4 nex 1. prob cant c u az oftin

Stolas stared at the message, and it took a minute to parse Blitzø's erratic spelling, and then he felt his stomach plummet followed by a sucking void of terror as the meaning began to sink in.

Blitzø was leaving? He was... Was he done with him?

But why? Where was the next job? Was he going far? How long would he be away? Why couldn't he see him as much? The questions followed one after another in a rush and Stolas wanted to find Blitzø and get answers to every single one, even if he had to pry them out of him. He needed to know, right now.

What the hell happened? Why was he telling him this over a text? What happened to not leaving?!

Stolas got up and started to run to his car, and realized he couldn't leave Via all alone to deal with the shop. There was only one choice, then.

"I'm so sorry, everyone, but I will be closing early today! Please make your purchases quickly, I have an emergency! Yes, thank you, my sincerest apologies—"

"Dad?" Via asked, concerned.

Stolas hurried over to help her at the register, leaning close to talk to her quietly enough that they wouldn't be overheard. "I just need to do something, it shouldn't take too long but it cannot wait."

"Okay," she said, sounding unsure, but she helped him finish checking out the last couple people without complaint.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the shop was empty and locked, and Stolas made sure Via was safely back at the apartment before driving as fast as he thought he could manage safely—and sometimes a little bit faster—to Blitzø's office.

When he sprinted across the parking lot to burst in, chest heaving, he found Moxxie and Millie seated around a large conference table, a stack of papers spread out in front of them.

"Where is he?" Stolas demanded, shaking and out of breath, and Millie pointed to a door before tapping Moxxie's shoulder and pulling him to his feet and dragging him, protesting, out of the office.

But Stolas wasn't paying any attention to them, instead focusing on the door Millie pointed out and stomping over to slam his fist against it.

"Blitzø! Open up this door right now!"

"It's not locked," Blitzø said from the other side of it, and Stolas cursed, throwing it open to approach a very confused Blitzø who was sitting behind a small desk, a little toy horse figure clutched in one hand.

"Uh, hey, Stolas, what's—"

"What—the fuck—is this?" Stolas snarled, holding the phone up inches from Blitzø's nose.

"Um. That's your phone?" Blitzø said, leaning around it to frown up at Stolas.

"You're finished? Just like that? Am I that unimportant to you?"

"What? No, I'm not—"

"Then what is this!"

Blitzø stared at him, uncomfortable.

"Are you done with me?" Stolas asked, and then let out a sob, all the anger burning out abruptly and leaving only misery in its wake.

"I thought... I thought you were done with me," Blitzø said, and got up from his chair began to slowly inch around the desk.

"How? Why? What did I do?"

Blitzø crossed his arms, glancing out the window. "I dunno, you were being weird. Seemed like you didn't want me around, so. I backed off."

"I always want you around," Stolas said as a tear slid down his face. Blitzø's eyes locked onto him, wide and searching, and Stolas tried to choke back more tears, but they kept slipping out anyway.

"I..." Blitzø trailed off, biting his lip. "Then... why didn't you say that?"

"I—" He did, didn't he? But as he thought about it, he realized it had been days, and he wanted to talk to Blitzø many times, to see him and hear his voice, but he hadn't.

He hadn't said anything at all.

"I... I wanted to," he said quietly, desperate, but he realized that Blitzø had no reason to believe him, because Stolas hadn't acted as though that was what he wanted.

Blitzø took a step closer. "You're not just saying that?"

"No," Stolas said, unable to stop himself from reaching out toward Blitzø, who took another step forward and let Stolas pull him into a desperate hug and cling to him, grabbing a fistful of his jacket. "I just—didn't think it was fair, to ask you to put up with all the... the drama. I didn't want to drag you into it."

"Fuck, Stolas. You can't just decide that for me."

"I'm sorry."

"You have to fucking tell me shit. You can't just... think it, and expect me to figure it out."

Blitzø wrapped his arms around Stolas's waist and held him just as tightly as Stolas, and they stayed like that for a minute, both needing the reassurance. "I will try," Stolas said, voice muffled with his face pressed into Blitzø's shoulder the way it was. Blitzø squeezed him even tighter, and Stolas turned his head slightly to nuzzle into his neck, pressing his lips to his skin, just because he could. He was here, and wasn't leaving.

"...Wait, isn't it like, lunch time? What are you even doing here?"

"You really freaked me out, so I may have... closed my store."

Blitzø let go and tried to pull back, but Stolas refused to loosen his grip. "You closed it? Again? After everything we did to—"

"If you don't want me to close early, then don't try to dump me in a text, you ass!"

"I wasn't dumping you, idiot!" Blitzø dug a finger into Stolas's side, his arms trapped in Stolas's embrace and unable to reach anywhere else.

"Bullshit!" Stolas held on, still not budging.

"Besides, how can I dump you? We never said we were—"

"I'm saying it now!"

Blitzø paused, and stopped poking him. "Saying what, exactly?"

Stolas finally loosened his grip, pulling back to look Blitzø in the eye, and he mustered up every last ounce of courage he could find, determined. "...I want to— I would like to, to date. You. Exclusively. If—"

"Yes."

Stolas sucked in a breath, his lungs full to bursting, and pressure building behind his eyes. "Yes?"

"Yeah, I want that. We are officially dating."

"...Good."

"Glad we worked that out. Now go reopen your stupid shop before you waste all the shit we did for you!"

"Absolutely not! You owe me at least five more minutes of hugging. I will not go any lower, that's my final offer."

"Fuckin'—that's not how you negotiate, Stol."

"This is not a negotiation, I am making demands. This is what happens when you try to abandon me."

"I wasn't trying to—!"

"I'll make it ten minutes! No, twenty!"

Blitzø groaned in half amusement and half frustration, and then Stolas leaned in and kissed him, not very gently at all, and Blitzø began to groan for entirely different reasons.

*

Stolas did not make it back to his shop to reopen it that day. He did maybe scar Moxxie a little bit when he and Millie came back to the office in the middle of Stolas and Blitzø making up, quite loudly, with the door open. They kicked them out of the office after that, and since Loona was going to be out for a few hours, Stolas sent a quick text to Via telling her everything was fine and he'd be a little longer before following Blitzø to his apartment.

They were laying on the couch, curled up together and shirtless, when Blitzø started talking out of the blue, as though continuing a conversation they'd been in the middle of. "So there's an office building down the street from you that's got a space for lease."

"Oh?" Stolas said, a little sleepy, only partially paying attention.

"Yeah. The one I'm in now sucks, and I was telling Fizz about how I was looking for an upgrade, and he—"

"Hold on," Stolas said, the name registering through his mental fog. "Fizz? You aren't talking about FizzaRolli by any chance, are you? The FizzaRolli who just recently endorsed my shop, along with his fiancé?"

"Um. Yeah, that's the one," Blitzø said, innocently.

"You know FizzaRolli."

"...Since we were kids, yeah."

Stolas tried not to sigh. The hypocrisy! Blitzø was the one who'd chewed him out for not telling him things! "And I suppose the endorsement was your doing?" He asked, pointedly.

"W-Well..."

"Wait. Back up a moment. Did you just tell me you're thinking about moving your office down the street from me?"

"Um. Yes."

"Blitzø!" Stolas said, almost a shriek.

"What?!"

Stolas crawled up so he was close enough to cover his face in kisses, because it was easier than trying to explain how that made him feel. Blitzø writhed and swatted at him when he kept up his onslaught well past what Blitzø probably considered reasonable, but Stolas refused to stop, because he didn't want to.

Luckily, Blitzø didn't seem to actually mind.

When Stolas finally started to slow down, Blitzø took the opportunity to return the kisses, deepening them, and Stolas was happy to follow his lead. Blitzø grabbed a fistful of Stolas's hair, tugging just enough to make Stolas gasp, pleasure shooting through him as Blitzø pressed his hips up against him, and Stolas felt surrounded by him, Blitzø's hand at the back of his head, his other wrapped around his back, one leg bent and pressing against his side, holding him close.

Stolas reached down to grab Blitzø's thigh, digging his fingers in as he got a good grip on it, and twisted just enough that he could press his leg firmly against Blitzø's cock before leaning up, letting his leg stroke up and back down, reveling in the needy moans Blitzø made at the friction.

"Stol," Blitzø gasped, panting, and Stolas reached down, sliding to the side just enough that he could fit his hand between them to slide his hand into Blitzø's boxers to press his palm against Blitzø's dripping cock, wrapping his fingers around it.

Stolas leaned up, got as close as he could to Blitzø's ear with his hand still around his dick, and said, low and soft, "I want you to fuck me."

Blitzø whined, grinding desperately into Stolas's hand, and Stolas had never seen anything so good and perfect as Blitzø, needy and writhing underneath him.

Well, except maybe Blitzø, commanding and intense with that wicked grin, on top of him.

Actually, most of what Blitzø did worked extremely well for him. He loved all of it. Wanted all of it.

He had to let go to get the rest of their clothes off, and then his hand was back on Blitzø's dick, moving just enough to tease, and then with his other, he guided one of Blitzø's hands to his cunt, Blitzø's fingers sliding in easily and beginning to circle and stroke, in all the ways that made him forget where he was. Stolas had a hard time remembering to keep his hand moving with Blitzø's finger inside him, but he was nothing if not determined, and, well. He would just have to practice.

He was pretty sure Blitzø would be willing to help him improve, as many times as it took, until he could master it.

Blitzø added a second finger, and pressed in a little farther, and Stolas couldn't stop the whine at how good it felt, shuddering and grinding on Blitzø's hand, desperate for more. Blitzø leaned up to press a kiss to Stolas's jaw, and Stolas squirmed as he turned his head, panting, until he found Blitzø's mouth and pressed his lips to it, running his tongue along Blitzø's, needing him in his mouth, and between his legs, and everywhere he could have him.

Stolas tried to get his knees to either side of Blitzø, to get some leverage, but they kept shaking and then he would get distracted when Blitzø curled his fingers or licked into his mouth and it was all so much, and also not enough.

Then Blitzø's fingers were gone, and he was patting at Stolas's arm and wriggling out from under him, and no, where was he going?

"Calm down, I'm just repositioning," Blitzø said, pressing a grinning kiss into Stolas's cheek before he scooted all the way back, out of Stolas's grasp and out from underneath him, and rolled off the couch to stand next to it. "Flip over," he said, guiding Stolas onto his back, and grabbing a pillow, which he shoved behind Stolas's head so his neck wouldn't be bent awkwardly against the arm rest, and then putting another one under Stolas's hips.

"There we go," Blitzø said, running his hands down Stolas's chest, over his scars as he leaned over him, and pressing kisses to them before taking a nipple into his mouth as he got settled over Stolas, legs on either side of Stolas's hips.

"Blitzø," Stolas whined, and Blitzø gave Stolas's nipple one last teasing tug before shifting back and lining his dick up at Stolas's entrance, just resting it there, as he ran his hands over Stolas's ribs and down to his hips, scratching hard enough with his nails to leave red marks along the way.

Stolas writhed under him, and then Blitzø pushed forward, the head of his cock sliding into Stolas, who gasped, reaching a hand up to grab onto the back of the couch and curling a leg around so his heel was digging into Blitzø's leg, toes curling.

"M-more," Stolas said with a whine, "Keep—ungh—going," he said, trying to inch down further onto Blitzø, and Blitzø slid in a little deeper to meet him, gradually, until Stolas was holding all of him.

"So—good," Stolas panted, his back arching. "You can—you can move," he said, reaching down toward Blitzø, who grabbed his hand and squeezed. He pressed a kiss into Stolas's sternum, about as high as he could reach, and then pulled back before pressing back in with a little more force, still keeping the pace slow.

Stolas moaned, loud and filthy, and Blitzø grinned. "Yeah, keep making those noises for me," he said, encouraging as he continued to slide out and back in, just a little bit faster each time, and Stolas did, because Blitzø told him to.

Because he wanted to.

"Harder," Stolas said, beginning to get frustrated with how slow and gentle Blitzø was handling him, because he needed more than that. It wasn't enough. "Fuck me harder," he added, for clarity.

And also because it made Blitzø's face turn darker, and his hips stutter as he moved.

"Alright," Blitzø said, voice sounding wrecked, and then he slammed into Stolas with force, and Stolas's vision went white for an instant, and he gave a shout as Blitzø found the right spot and began to move in earnest, fucking him, perfect and relentless and so fucking good.

"Oh! Yes—Ah!" Stolas tried to tell him, tried to keep up the praise, but it was more than he could handle. He gave in to the sensations, moving as much as he could to match Blitzø's pace, his orgasm building, consuming him, hot and amazing until it spilled from him, and Blitzø began to slow down as he fucked Stolas's brains out through his cunt.

He kept thrusting, holding onto Stolas's hips, pace growing erratic, and just as Stolas was starting to struggle with the oversensitivity he felt Blitzø finally slide home and fill him, hot come leaking out around him as he panted and then dropped heavily onto Stolas's chest, breathing heavy but otherwise unmoving.

They stayed like that until their breaths gradually returned to normal, and then Stolas realized that between the drying sweat and previous heat, he was starting to get chilly. And also sticky. Gross.

"I think—shower," he said, tapping a finger at Blitzø's shoulder.

Blitzø grumbled, and turned his head to see Stolas, his disgruntled scowl falling away as he looked at him. "Fine, you're right," he finally mumbled, but he just planted his face back into Stolas's chest, and did not, frustratingly, move to get up.

"Blitzø," Stolas said, wriggling back and forth. Blitzø lifted his head to scowl at him again. "I am gross. And getting cold."

"Ugh, alright, fine. So impatient," Blitzø said, and shifted back to slowly pull out of him, and Stolas grimaced at the mess they'd made.

"We should probably clean this up first," he sighed.

"Demanding, too," Blitzø said, before tugging Stolas upright and kissing him, lingering and slow, a pleased smile on his face when he finally pulled back. "I got it, shower's through that door. I'll be there in a sec," he said, and Stolas stole one more kiss before he went.

After they cleaned up and showered, which took twice as long as usual since they had trouble keeping their hands off each other, they ordered some food and went back to the couch to wait for it to arrive.

"You really need a bed," Stolas observed, and Blitzø made an offended-sounding gasp.

"Wow, way to make judgy observations about my living space, former rich guy. I've been just fine with this couch I acquired at the low price of free, thank you very much. Not my fault you're a fucking giant who dwarfs a perfectly respectable couch."

Stolas snorted. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it that way, it's just. It can't be comfortable, sleeping on it every day. Obviously, I would also benefit immensely from some alterations to your sleeping arrangements, so if money is an issue—"

"Nope, absolutely not. I can buy my down damn bed. And I will. Eventually."

Stolas suddenly had a very vivid image of shopping together for a new bed with Blitzø, and the situation that would likely be required for such a scene to take place, and felt the skin begin to melt off his face at the force of his blush.

It was way, way too soon to even be thinking about that, jesus.

"Okay, what was that? C'mon, spill," Blitzø said, glancing up when Stolas failed to reply.

"Oh, n-nothing. Just... remembered something embarrassing," Stolas said with an idle wave of his hand, desperately hoping he was playing it off cool and casual so he would not have to explain to Blitzø what just went through his mind. He would rather die.

"Hey, we talked about this. C'mon, no more keeping shit from me!"

"I'm just being ridiculous. It's not important."

"Stol. You are a terrible judge of what's important or not. Just an awful track record, babe."

That shook Stolas out of his embarrassment like a bucket of molten lava had been dumped over his head.

"Uh." Blitzø grimaced, turning pink. "Is that—"

"Yes," Stolas wheezed, and pressed his hands to Blitzø's cheeks, squeezing just a little. "Yes, I like that. That's a good one."

"Okay, but you still gotta tell me what you got all worked up over a second ago, because you made the cutest face and I need to know."

Stolas squeezed his eyes closed and couldn't stifle a whine as he realized he wasn't getting out of this conversation intact.

"Okay, fine, but. Please understand that it—was very inappropriate, and not at all the right time, and I don't—it was my brain being a—being terrible, and—"

"Oh my god, Stol, I get it. I promise I will not take it too seriously. Was it really, really kinky?"

"No!"

"Don't leave me in suspense here, Stol. Edging right along the precipice, just give me a little nudge and I'll spill right over—"

"Stop," Stolas laughed, shoving at Blitzø's face, before sighing.

"It... It occurred to me, that. Well. You want to get a bed, but they can be expensive, and there isn't all that much space here for one. So. If we both want more space, and more furniture, but cannot afford it individually, then... then another option—well."

Blitzø's eyes went wide, and Stolas couldn't watch, so he covered his face with his hands.

"I told you! It's way, way too much, I didn't, I just—"

"You want to move in with me?"

"No! Well, m-maybe, eventually, but not—not now! We only just—I told you I was being ridiculous! You cannot take me seriously, I know it's way too fast to even be thinking about that—"

"Well, yeah, duh. But you don't hate the idea?"

"No, of course not," Stolas said, and he had to lower his hands to see Blitzø, because he needed to make sure he hadn't totally freaked him out. He'd freaked himself out, honestly, so it would be quite understandable.

But Blitzø didn't look freaked out. A little stunned, maybe, and he lowered his head to press it into Stolas's shirt.

"You don't hate the idea."

"Um. No, I very much like the idea of getting to spend more time with you and do normal daily stuff together all the time. Like... shopping. And. Things."

"Cool. Same," Blitzø said, and held him a little tighter. "In... the future."

"In the future," Stolas echoed, and then the door buzzed as their food arrived.

Stolas had gotten dinner for Via as well, and he was packing it into his car to take it back to his apartment, because he'd already been away for quite a while and felt bad about running off so abruptly. Blitzø walked him out to his car, which he thought was extremely cute, and he appreciated the extra few minutes with him.

"Lunch tomorrow?"

"Hmm, I've been pretty busy the last couple days, I don't know how much time I'll have until I can find another employee or two. It might make more sense to come by around closing."

Blitzø fidgeted. "I could help. My next job doesn't start until—"

"Absolutely not." Stolas had to put his foot down. "There is no way we won't end up with indecency charges. Not happening."

Blitzø scowled. "Hey, I can—"

"Not even for ten minutes. Not in your office, and not in my shop. We've already failed at both, it's honestly a little concerning."

Blitzø scowled at him, petulant. But there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and Stolas could see that he was trying to hold back a grin.

"Yes, I saw that. You're not even a little ashamed of yourself, I get it. Which is more proof that I am correct. I will see you tomorrow, after closing."

"Fine," Blitzø said, and kissed him, and Stolas had to force himself to leave before all the food got cold and soggy.

He was really looking forward to tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that, too, because his family had finally gotten a little bit bigger again, and it looked like they weren't going anywhere.

And with Blitzø and Via and everyone else at his side, he was pretty sure he could deal with whatever else was thrown at him.