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The air around them is electric, alive with music and cheering and the sound of horns. The sheer amount of joy is infectious, and Stolas can feel his heart beating in time with the song playing.
Admittedly, when Blitzø had suggested this activity for their next date, Stolas had been nervous. He’s never been to a Pride parade, much less one on Earth, having spent most of his life locked in his palace. Blitzø had known the prince wasn’t ready to attend one of the weekly Pride events in Hell, too wary of the public and the Goetia’s opinions in the wake of his truly messy divorce and all that had happened after it.
Instead, Blitzø had suggested they make use of their human disguises and attend Pride topside. So here they are, making their way through a crowd with Blitzø’s warm hand leading him, protecting him from any jostling and forging a path forward.
And even though they’re in disguises, Stolas has never felt so seen. He gets compliment after compliment on his outfit and he hasn’t stopped smiling. Blitzø had helped him pick the whole ensemble out, handing him a shopping bag loaded with clothing options. In the end, Stolas had settled on a see-through dark blue mesh shirt, purple shorts, and – his favorite part – green and white feather earrings. He’d done his eyeshadow to match, and Blitzø had even helped him add some temporary light green dye to the white stripe in his gray hair, all while explaining the meaning of the colors. Then he’d asked shyly if Stolas would wear a collar, which the prince had enthusiastically accepted. He was happy to wear a sign of their connection, their trust, and their bond, the thing they had fought for so desperately.
It was the least Stolas could do, especially since Blitzø didn’t really like using his human disguise, uncomfortable with the way his burns translated into pink, uneven patches on his tanned skin. The first time Blitzø had seen himself, he’d smashed the mirror in front of him and had a panic attack, nearly passing out from his distress. Stolas had spent hours that day tracing kisses across his lover’s body, telling him that he was beautiful. He’s not sure that Blitzø truly believes it yet, but he is dedicated to proving it.
The fact that Blitzø is willing to put up with that discomfort and the way the humans often stare at him, just for Stolas to taste a little bit of acceptance? It means the world to him.
Plus, he gets to see his boyfriend look positively delicious in his own Pride-themed outfit. He’d asked for Stolas’ help with painting the colors of the pansexual flag on his face and chest, the pink, yellow, and cyan popping against his skin. Over that, he only wore a harness that barely covered anything, a tight, black skirt, thigh-high fishnets that matched the paint on his body, and black chunky boots. Stolas was thoroughly enjoying watching the way the leather hugs his darling’s hips and ass as they marched through the throngs of people.
As if he can feel Stolas’ eyes, Blitzø turns around and gives him a teasing grin. Satan, he is so handsome. Stolas can’t help the way his lips curl in response, and he can tell by how warm his face is that he’s blushing.
“Oh, you two are such a gorgeous couple!” A girl next to them shouts. Her clothes feature a mix of pink, orange, and white. Her statement makes Stolas’ heart feel so light, though he also registers the way Blitzø’s hand tightens a bit from the attention. He runs his thumb over his boyfriend’s palm to ease his anxiety.
“Thank you!” Stolas says, grinning so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt.
His lover keeps leading Stolas ahead until they reach a small group of vendors. Blitzø steps up confidently to a table, always the more outgoing of the two of them, and purchases two small flags. He hands the ‘MLM’ one to Stolas and the prince runs his fingers over the vinyl fabric. They move away quickly so other people can have their turn.
“Oh!” Blitzø says suddenly. “I also made you this.” He digs one hand into his crossbody bag and reaches for Stolas’ hand. Gently, so gently, he slides a beaded bracelet over the prince’s small wrist. It fits perfectly – not too loose that he has to worry about it falling off, but not too tight that it’s uncomfortable. The beads are spaced out with small charms that hang down and jingle softly. A book, a moon, an owl, and… a heart.
“Blitzø,” Stolas says, voice choked with emotion. “Thank you, dearest.”
“Yeah, sure, no biggie,” Blitzø says, but Stolas can see the flush on his face. “It wasn’t too hard to make, and Loona helped me find the perfect teal beads.”
“You made this?” Stolas’ head snaps up from examining the charms and his chest is so full of feeling, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“Yeah, I know it’s a little amateurish but–”
Stolas interrupts him by leaning down for a kiss. It’s so much easier for them to kiss in these forms, their heights much closer, and he can’t get enough of how Blitzø’s lips feel on his own. Soft, like cushions.
“It’s perfect,” he sighs out, and Blitzø shares his breath for a moment before pulling him back in. Their mouths catch and release with an easy tempo. Stolas feels that familiar heat in his stomach and then the much less familiar hardening in his pants. He pulls away from Blitzø and watches his boyfriend chase his lips, tipping forward with eyes closed. Stolas kisses his forehead instead, trying to cool their passion down.
“Babe,” Blitzø whines, as he often does when Stolas doesn’t give him the affection he wants.
“Sorry,” Stolas says, so fond of this man. “But I’m getting a bit too excited for this public location.” That makes Blitzø’s eyes pop open, and then his boyfriend is grabbing his hip with one hand and the ring on his collar with the other, pulling them close, close enough that Stolas can feel a matching hardness through the tiny skirt he’s wearing. Stolas can’t help the sound he makes, feeling the way Blitzø wants him.
“My bad, birdie,” Blitzø says, though he does not sound apologetic at all. “You want to watch the parade, right?”
“Yes, please,” Stolas answers, brushing hands through the mop of hair on Blitzø’s head before he scratches his nails down the shaved sides. He watches as his boyfriend shivers, a keening in his throat. Satan, he wants to devour this man. “But we will revisit this later, hmm?”
Blitzø nods with glazed eyes, staring at Stolas with an utterly besotted smile. Stolas will never get tired of seeing that look.
They give themselves a moment to gather composure, and then Blitzø is wrapping one hand around Stolas’ waist, easily maneuvering him back towards the main street.
**
The parade is beautiful. Stolas delights in the colorful floats, the dance numbers, and the drag queens. He tows Blitzø with him to keep up with them, watching them sashay and sway in the procession. Blitzø tugs him closer to the barrier separating the performers from the crowd, and one queen stops by to wrap a rainbow feather boa around Stolas’ neck. The feathers are pokey, not as soft as his own, but it makes him feel even more at home.
At the end of the route, there’s a stage and the crowd melts into a mess of moving bodies. A song rings through the speakers, and Blitzø pulls him into the street to dance. Stolas jumps and claps along with the music, ears picking up only portions of the lyrics through his and Blitzø’s laughter.
Baby, why don’t you come over? Red wine supernova, falling into me.
Blitzø pulls Stolas close and uses a hand at small of his back to support him as he dips him down, hovering over the prince with a smirk. Stolas can tell he’s blushing but he can’t help it – he thrills in the rush of movement, in the fall. He kicks a leg up playfully to lean just slightly further into Blitzø’s arms, knowing his lover won’t let any harm come to him.
Blitzø pulls him back up and swings him in a turn. Stolas just lets go, lets the energy consume him, and it is so freeing , as if he can feel years of stress and heartache melting away with every move.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Blitzø says. Stolas realizes he’s dancing with his eyes closed, so he opens them and smiles, grasping one strong shoulder in his hand. He loves the way Blitzø’s skin feels against his palm, the surprising softness hiding the strength underneath.
“You are, too, my dear,” Stolas says, watching the way the compliment makes his usually gregarious lover turn bashful. He can’t help grasping the sides of Blitzø’s face and pulling him in for a kiss, swallowing the surprised noise Blitzø makes as their lips connect. He feels Blitzø smile against his mouth and it just makes him so fucking happy . He pulls back and starts kissing all over Blitzø’s face, mapping the different slopes and edges, and his boyfriend laughs, playfully pushing him back.
“Babe,” Blitzø says. “Come on, you sappy fuck.”
“I love you,” Stolas says, kissing one side of Blitzø’s face and then the other, feeling the varying textures under his lips. “I love you.” With the next kiss, he can feel the warmth pulsing under his boyfriend’s skin.
“I love you too,” Blitzø says. The way that the words come so easily makes Stolas want to cry because of how they had worked so hard to get to this point. They had earned this.
Blitzø chases Stolas’ lips with his own until he captures them, the same way he captured every other part of the prince. “My pretty bird.” His voice is a low hum, vibrating in the pause between their kisses.
“Take a photo with me?” Stolas asks, nearly breathless with how giddy he feels. Blitzø rolls his eyes a bit, but he pulls out his phone and holds it away and slightly above them, angling the camera down. Stolas crowds as close as he can and the two grin into the camera, hair mussed, makeup running, and paint smudged. It’s perfect.
Blitzø immediately texts a copy of the photo to Stolas without him even having to ask. Sliding his phone back into his bag, he grabs both of Stolas’ hands in his and lays a kiss on the back of each. Stolas nearly swoons, and Blitzø absolutely fucking knows that because one of his eyebrows raises teasingly. His boyfriend lays a few more kisses there, slowly, and it’s like there’s a string connecting Blitzø’s lips to Stolas’ stomach, tugging the heat from earlier right back up. And all of a sudden, this isn’t enough. Stolas needs him closer . He twists their hands so he can grab Blitzø’s instead and uses the grip to pull him away from the crowd.
Once they reach an alley, he summons a portal and then they’re stepping into a large field of grass, isolated and alone. The sudden silence is jarring and the only sound is the puff of their breaths, heavy from the running and the kissing and the want .
Stolas turns around quickly and swoops down for a kiss, Blitzø meeting him halfway, perfectly in sync as ever. The prince pulls the other man close to him, cradling the side of his face in one hand, using the contact to deepen the kiss. Blitzø hums, parting his lips so their tongues can meet, caressing and lingering. Stolas moves his mouth down Blitzø’s neck, smirking as his boyfriend leans his head back further. Fuck, Stolas loves when Blitzø is this docile, melting like putty between his hands. It makes him want to take Blitzø apart completely, see the exposed nerves that only he gets to see, and then put him back together.
Trailing a hand up Blitzø’s leg and under his skirt, Stolas teases with soft touches and scratches, catching the moan his boyfriend tries to choke down.
“Let me hear you, dearest,” Stolas says, moving his hand up until he can feel the bulge waiting for him. He runs just his fingertips over it, the edges of his nails catching on the bit of fabric barely covering that glorious cock. Blitzø’s breath stutters and then he lets out a groan, hips shifting for more contact. Stolas pulls his hand away.
“Stols,” Blitzø says, and Stolas can spot the way his lover is starting to sink and float. The way he only does with Stolas. “Please.”
“Lay down, darling,” Stolas says, using the tone of voice that he knows Blitzø likes best for moments like this. Warm, low, but infused with just a little bit of that eldritch power sitting under the surface. Blitzø does as he’s asked and Stolas follows him down, laying next to him but leaning so he can stay close to his lover. He taps the button of the skirt with one finger, the ping of metal ringing between them. He trails that finger up until he can hook it under the torso strap of the harness, using it to pull Blitzø up for another kiss, this one far more feverish than their last. Blitzø kisses back desperately and Stolas feels like he can’t get close enough, like they need to fuse their souls together to assuage the pressure in his chest.
“So good to me,” Stolas says, letting the words out on a breath across Blitzø’s face. His eyes are hazy, pupils blown. “So beautiful.” He gets a shy whine in response and can see his boyfriend’s legs shifting.
“Touch me,” Blitzø says, just short of begging. Stolas moves one hand back to Blitzø’s thigh, trailing it up until he’s under that devilish skirt again. He doesn’t bother with the fastenings and just shucks it upwards to reveal more of Blitzø’s skin. He looks down to eye the tiny black thong, slipping his finger under the thin string on Blitzø’s hip and snapping it once, earning a small hiss.
With just a bit of magic, the string breaks and Stolas can shift the triangle of fabric over, finally releasing Blitzø’s dick. His boyfriend is so hard, the head of his cock pink and weeping. Muttering a quick spell to conjure some lube, Stolas begins stroking slowly, watching Blitzø’s hips kick up, trying to fuck his fist.
“Do you want me to fuck you, my stardust?” Stolas says, slowing down his movements and tightening his grip. Blitzø’s mouth falls open and his eyebrows scrunch together with his pleasure. Stolas stops his motion when Blitzø doesn’t answer.
“Yes, yes,” Blitzø says, forcing the words out quickly. “Fuck, Stolas, please.”
“So sweet,” Stolas says. He leans down to kiss his lover, shifting so he can lay between his legs, one forearm pressing into the grass to hold his balance. His hand there is at a perfect height to play with the ends of Blitzø’s hair, so he does, watching Blitzø squirm. “And so kind of you, wearing a skirt and making this easier for me.” His hand leaves Blitzø’s cock and trails down, running fingers over his perineum and then further, pressing at his hole. Blitzø gasps out, hips rolling down. And with the same incantation, Stolas’ fingers are slick enough to start sliding easily against the taut ring of muscle.
“Knees bent, love,” Stolas instructs, and the position makes it easier for him to reach and start easing a finger in. His lover opens beautifully, as always, hips starting a gentle rocking motion to meet the rhythm of his finger. Stolas presses kisses to Blitzø’s forehead, his closed eyelids, the tip of his nose and finally his mouth, sucking in the breath Blitzø lets out when Stolas adds another digit. Blitzø’s hips cant down as Stolas sets an easy pace, massaging those tight insides until they start to relax. The prince angles his fingers up, searching, rewarded with a moan when he finds the bundle of nerves he’s looking for.
“Fuck,” Blitzø cries. “More, please.”
Stolas adds another finger, watching as Blitzø tips his neck up, the back of his head digging into the soft earth. The prince leans down and inhales, taking in the smell of soil and sweat and gunpowder and cinnamon. He presses his fingers at that sensitive spot over and over until he can see tears gathering at the corner of his lover’s eyes. Blitzø brings his arms up and around Stolas, fingers digging into the prince’s back, crushing their chests together.
“Look at you,” Stolas says, knowing his own eyes are lidded with desire. Blitzø’s grip makes him feel wild with it. “My gorgeous man.”
“Need your cock,” Blitzø bites out, hips still rocking down. “Please, please, need it.” He’s truly begging, now, and Satan if that doesn’t make Stolas feel more powerful than any spell ever could.
Stolas removes his fingers from Blitzø just long enough to reach down, unbutton his shorts, and push his underwear away enough to free his own hardness. He uses the wetness on his palm to slick himself up, moaning in relief. Situating himself better between Blitzø’s thighs, he lets his weight drop down and lines his cock up with that stretched hole, pushing in slowly.
They both groan, a mix of timbres, and Stolas keeps pushing until he’s fully seated, the skin of his pelvis hitting the cheeks of Blitzø’s ass.
“Move, please,” Blitzø cries, already rolling his hips for more friction. Stolas lets himself get carried into the motion, giving in to the urge to thrust, shaking as he feels those warm walls clench on his cock.
“Fuck, Blitzø,” the prince groans, leaning his head down so his mouth is at his lover’s ear. He bites the lobe and huffs out another breath as his hips push forward. Satan, the slide is so fucking good. Warmth gathers behind his navel and the muscles in his stomach and thighs tighten. He angles his hips so he can hit the spot that makes Blitzø shiver, marveling at the way his lover’s harsh breaths and cries match each press inside. He lifts up his body slightly so he can watch Blitzø’s face, the red flush so beautiful on his cheeks.
“Love you,” Blitzø says, opening his eyes so he can look up at Stolas, and the words make Stolas move faster, desperate, chasing the feeling. He uses his free hand to clutch at Blitzø’s hip, holding him down with his grip and his weight on top of him so he can punch his hips in harder.
“Love you too, dearest,” Stolas moans out. He moves his hand from Blitzø’s hip to his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He strokes in time with his thrusts once, twice, until Blitzø tenses, his back arching off of the grass with a deep groan. The sound reverberates in Stolas’ chest like a second heartbeat.
And then the slip of Stolas’ palm on Blitzø’s cock gets wetter with his release, mouth open and panting out small sighs. Stolas keeps stroking, letting him ride out the wave of pleasure, and then he’s pushing his cock in deep as he can as he follows, letting himself go. Stolas grinds through his climax, his cum filling the minimal space between them and spilling out.
He collapses slightly on top of Blitzø and they breathe together. When Stolas starts pulling out, Blitzø’s arms tighten around his waist.
“Stay, just a minute,” Blitzø says, almost a whine. Stolas meets his gaze, glassy eyes staring up at him. He shifts so he can run kisses across his boyfriend’s sweaty forehead.
“My good boy loves being full, doesn’t he?” Stolas says, enjoying the way the words make Blitzø tremble underneath him.
“Like being close to you,” Blitzø corrects, voice slightly shy. Stolas' chest seizes with how adorable his boyfriend is when he finally lets himself be this tender. The softest heart he’s ever known, covered in thorny vines. Luckily, Stolas has quite the green thumb.
Eventually, Blitzø relaxes his grip and allows Stolas to pull out. With a wave of his hand, the two of them are clean and back in their demonic forms, the grass poking the sensitive skin under his feathers. Stolas kicks his shorts down the rest of his legs and stretches his limbs out.
“Thank you for today, my love,” Stolas sighs, letting his back sink into the ground. “I had such a wonderful time.”
Blitzø rolls and clambers up Stolas’ now much longer body to rub his face in the fluff on his chest. Stolas smiles at him and places a palm over the mark on his forehead. Blitzø’s eyes are still so hazy, the tell-tale sound of purring revealing his happiness.
“I feel like I should be thanking you,” Blitzø says, nuzzling his face further into Stolas’ feathers, and the owl can’t help the laugh he lets out. “But you know I’d do anything for you, pretty bird.”
Stolas smiles, running hands over Blitzø’s horns. So much warmth in that face, those words.
“Shall we head home, then, stardust?” Stolas asks.
And then Blitzø is looking up with a familiar mischievous grin. “You think I'm done with you?” He leans up and uses one claw to hook into the ring in Stolas’ collar, pulling him forward for a deep kiss. Then Blitzø lets go so he can move down the prince’s body until he’s looking at Stolas from between his legs, eyebrow arched.
“Oh?” Stolas says, feeling his feathers puff out in anticipation.
“Spread those gorgeous legs, sweetheart.”