Stolas admits that perhaps, today, he is a little more absent-minded than usual.
It's not like it's uncommon, exactly, for him to just casually make a portal to grab things he needs when they're across the Ring, or across the palace, or in a different room, or too far to reach. He's not lazy, he would go get it if he had to! But this is just easier, sometimes. And he's in the middle of a task! If he didn't use a portal, he would have to stop, go get the pen he needs, and then figure out where he was and resume his task. This just... skips all of that!
But he thinks perhaps he should have paid a little more attention to where he was opening the portal, and how small he made it, and perhaps it was unwise to try and open into his crammed-full, overflowing drawer when it was filled with all manner of, erm, toys, including some meant for... restraint.
Restraining royals, in particular. Anything less isn't terribly effective on a member of the Ars Goetia, you see.
It's truly a comedy of errors when he forces his arm through his somewhat smaller than adequate portal, pulls open the drawer, and manages to get some blessed rope wrapped around his wrist, and it sure feels as though it's hooked around something else in his drawer, as well, because it simply isn't budging, and so far, everything he's tried to free himself has only made his situation worse.
His leg is now trapped somewhere in the drawer, as well, through a second portal he opened in the hopes of figuring out how to to free himself from the first. He cannot widen the portals, for fear of what else he might unleash from the drawer, possibly entangling him further or causing injury or ruining his favorite toys or the carefully chosen decor with the blessed fucking rope. He has gotten himself into quite the predicament.
He cannot ask his daughter for help, lest he scar her even more than he has already. He refuses to involve the staff; this is simply out of the scope of their duties, and he cannot guarantee their safety with angelic items of any variety involved. No, there's really only one demon he can think of who might be up to the task of freeing him without either injury, or extreme embarrassment.
Well. More extreme embarrassment.
Stolas looks over at his desk, where his phone is sitting, several meters out of reach. He cannot even extend a leg to grab it or nudge it closer, because the leg nearest the desk is currently trapped in a portal, and he cannot twist around to use the other without some extreme acts of contortionism. He can find only one possible solution. He knows it is not a very intelligent solution, but he sees no other option.
He opens a third portal.
This one, he is careful to make large enough for him to reach a hand safely through to grab his phone and pull it across the intervening distance without getting stuck on anything.
Of course, he drops it. This just simply isn't his day, apparently.
Luckily he drops it near his non-tangled foot, so he is able to open his text messages with a talon and navigate to the conversation with his darling Blitzy with relatively little difficulty.
He suspects his spelling is not up to its usual standard, but that's hardly a surprise.
When the phone rings, he startles, and tries desperately to answer it, but only manages to kick the phone out of his reach, cursing his stupidity. By the time he can open a portal and reach through to once again retrieve his phone, it is no longer ringing, he only has one hand free, and in trying to call Blitzø back, is fairly certain he accidentally takes a picture and sends that instead.
What a catastrophe.
After accidentally locking his phone, typing his passcode incorrectly enough times that his phone will not let him try again for several minutes, Stolas is beginning to wonder if he will perish here, trapped by his own portals, tangled in sex toys, soon to become the laughingstock of Hell. He wonders if he would deserve that fate, and isn't entirely sure he can convince himself he would not.
Just when he is beginning to wonder if his Will is properly up to date and his affairs sufficiently in order, there's a frantic scrabbling at his balcony, and he feels a bubble of hope bloom in his breast at the idea of a daring rescue.
"Stolas? Stolas, unlock your fucking door, right the fuck now!"
"I'm afraid I cannot, Blitzy, my sincerest apologies!"
"Well, then I'm breaking it the fuck down!"
Stolas titters, comforted even in his terrible situation, trapped as he is, at the desperation in Blitzø's voice. "If you must."
There's a crash, accompanied by the sound of glass falling to the marble floor and skittering across it, and Blitzø leaps over the mess to dash across the room. "Why the fuck didn't you answer me when I called you? And what the shit was with that picture, it looked like it should've come with a fucking ransom note. Are you okay?"
"I am unharmed, just incredibly embarrassed. I have been unable to free myself for some time, which is the reason I was unable to answer your call. My sincerest apologies."
"Whatever," Blitzø mumbles, slowing down as he reaches Stolas and begins to take in his situation. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Stolas gasps, affronted.
"Are—Are you laughing at me, Blitzø?"
"What? No," Blitzø says, but then he makes eye contact with Stolas, and can't hold back a cackle. "Okay, a little, I'm sorry, it's just so fucking funny. Stols, you control your own portals."
"Yes, but they can be, you know, erratic! And i was not, perhaps, paying as much attention as I should have been—"
"Why are you tangled in the sex drawer?" Blitzø asks, peering around Stolas's wrist and thigh, one eyebrow raised as he begins tugging at Stolas's clothes to try and see why he is unable to free himself.
"W-Well, you see, I was..." Stolas realizes abruptly that he has absolutely no good answer for this question.
Blitzø pauses, and then slowly pulls back, glancing up at him, tail lifting up and beginning to sway as he studies him. Stolas feels his face light on fire, and suddenly wishes he'd just asked his staff to free him.
"You were horny, weren't you?"
Stolas stammers. "I—C-Certainly not, it was—I merely—!"
"You wanted to get off in the middle of the day, you insatiable slut," Blitzø says with a sharp grin. "And now you're stuck. Are you still all hot an' bothered, then, birdy?"
Stolas scowls, but can't exactly hide the way he's already soaking through his romper. Honestly, it had begun as soon as Blitzø crashed through his balcony door.
"That's what I thought," Blitzø says, a low purr, and he starts sliding his fingers up Stolas's thigh, pushing the fabric up higher, and completely ignoring the ropes tangled around his limbs. "And you're already all tied up for me, I didn't even have to set everything up."
Stolas swallows. Usually Blitzø is so careful about restraints, arranging them very precisely, checking in to make sure they're not too tight, or too loose, so they can have fun while also making sure they're being safe, and always with knots that Stolas can unravel himself if he really needs to.
This... does not feel like that. Blitzø's grin is sharper, his look darker, hungrier than usual. His tail coils around Stolas's waist, and he slides his fingers around to tease right at the crease at the top of Stolas's thigh, close enough to drive him wild without actually providing any kind of relief or satisfaction.
"B-Blitzø," Stolas pants, squirming, but he's barely able to move, between the two portals and the tangled rope and the fatigue from maintaining the portals for such an extended duration. "I..."
"You what, Stols?" Blitzø says, voice dropping lower, hand inching higher, to circle around the outer edges of his cloaca.
"I need you to fuck me," Stolas pants, unable to grind against Blitzø's fingers the way he wants to, as tangled as he is. "Right now."
Blitzø's grin falters, for just a moment, before it returns, a little wild and sharp. "That's better," he says, a low purr that goes right through Stolas, Blitzø's fingers pushing into Stolas, leaving a trail of searing heat in their wake, and Stolas shudders, a sharp need twisting low, desperate to feel more, deeper, to fill him.
He was an idiot for thinking he could satisfy himself with toys, he sees that now. There's only one way to address it, and as ridiculous as the circumstances that led him here may be, now that he has it he finds that all he feels is gratitude.
"Please," he begs, as Blitzø continues to tease him at a painfully slow pace.
"Please what, Stolas?" Blitzø asks, pushing in firmly with his fingers, adding more, and it hits so good but it's still not enough.
"Please, I need your cock," Stolas whines, desperate, and Blitzø chuckles, low and warm.
"I'm not sure that's possible right now, birdy, you're all twisted up and I don't think there's room." he says, slow and mocking, as he continues to drag his fingers across the sensitive places in Stolas's cloaca. "You really got yourself into a tough spot, here."
Stolas gasps when Blitzø wraps his other hand around the base of his tail and tugs on it, quick and sharp, and Stolas moans, the pain and pleasure mixing together, even as he can't reach out and grab back, or feel Blitzø against him like he wants, trapped as he is.
"Blitzø!"
Suddenly the spade of Blitzø's tail is in his other hand, and Stolas has something to hold onto, and he begins pressing his talon into the spade, the way he knows makes Blitzø lose control. Or it would, if he could pull on it like he wants to, like he usually does.
"Right there," Blitzø breathes, soft, and then he's pressing into him again, and yanking even harder on Stolas's tail, and Stolas can feel Blitzø panting against his chest feathers, rubbing his cheek there, and he can hear the soft whines he tries to bury in them, and then he's shuddering and quaking as his climax hits, crashing through him, the way he can't hold on to Blitzø's horn like he desperately wants to just making it better and more intense.
As he slowly comes back to full awareness, he realizes that Blitzø has cut the ropes, and he pulls his no-longer-trapped talon free to press into the spaces between Blitzø's spines as he reaches through the portal his hand was just in as Stolas holds it open just a little longer so he can cut the ropes tangled around his leg, too. When he is finally free and can close the portals, he sags against Blitzø in relief, the combination of his orgasm and the drain from the magic pulling him quickly into exhaustion.
"Alright, I've got you," Blitzø mutters as he lifts him into his arms and carries him over to his bed, but Stolas isn't worried.
He's never felt safer.