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He had never been more certain in his life that he was not meant to be out in the field. He belonged behind that desk with all its old gouges and worn varnish, the outdated computer whirring as it struggled to power through each day and even accepting the stream of phone calls from Sinners who sought revenge and usually insulted him when he told them the price of their services. That was his job and he liked it, now that he was used to it.
Now he was crouched behind a wall that was being peppered with a hail of rapid fire bullets while the love of his life hollered and cackled with delight, shooting over the concrete barrier with his own machine gun - they were both coated in human blood, the iron taste of it clinging to the air like smoke. For his part, Stolas’ hands were trembling around the handle of the handgun Blitzø had been training him to use, the black metal glinting even in the low light of their self imposed trench.
“You okay, Stols?” Blitzø yelled, his voice almost drowned out by the constant gunfire.
Stolas looked at him in abject horror, though it barely mattered as Blitzø wasn’t even looking at him. “No! This was a terrible idea!” he cried, “You said this would be an easy one!”
“Hey, don’t worry! I’ve almost finished ‘em off!” Blitzø assured him.
And then a bullet fired from Stolas’ left, whizzing past him and straight into Blitzø’s thigh.
As Blitzø screamed out a stream of obscenities, clutching his gushing wound, Stolas turned his head towards where the bullet had been shot and saw a human standing from a crouch. He must have snuck around the side while they were distracted. The hail of bullets came to a halt, the sudden silence ringing in the air over Blitzø’s screeches of rage filled pain.
Stolas didn’t know where it came from really, when he thought back on this moment, was it sheer adrenaline? Or just the animalistic instinct to protect his Blitzø? Whatever it was, Stolas had felt a spike in his chest and all of Blitzø’s teachings on how to get the best aim came rolling in as if in slow motion.
He stood to his feet - somewhere the fog, as if in the far off distance, he heard Blitzø yell his name - raised his gun in a single, steady hand and, after letting out a held breath, fired.
The human who had shot Blitzø recoiled and fell to the ground.
As the remaining humans began to realise their threat was not yet gone, Stolas turned his steely gaze to each in turn, his arm sweeping over each for just long enough to fire a single bullet. So distracted they had been by his sudden reappearance, they had all stood from their protections as well - making them each an easy target.
Stolas watched and waited, some of the bodies twitched momentarily before they fell still, most were already bleeding enough that the concrete floor of the warehouse was painted with it. He almost relaxed, until he heard the gargled, rasped breath from the side - the first man he had shot. Stepping over to him, Stolas glared down at the human who was clutching desperately to the open wound at his neck, red liquid flowed freely like a tap through his fingers.
Blue eyes were wide as he fought to speak, mouth full of his own blood, spitting from his lips. “W-wait - p-please I - ”
“You shot my Blitzø,” Stolas muttered, tone dangerous, near demonic - closer to his eldritch voice than he had been in the months since he had lost it, “you do not get to plead for mercy.”
He raised the gun again and fired, the human’s head slamming back as a bullet pushed between his eyes.
Once he was certain the man lay dead, Stolas strode back to Blitzø, who was watching him with wide eyed awe, silenced even as his leg continued to bleed. Stolas didn’t speak, just tore fabric from a nearby stack of warehouse inventory and wrapped it securely over the wound, strapped around Blitzø’s leg.
When Blitzø finally spoke, Stolas was bundling him up in his arms - without his powers he had felt quite weak, but he still possessed the strength to carry Blitzø. “Holy fucking shit, Stolas,” he muttered, arms slung over Stolas’ shoulders, “didn’t I tell you you had it in you?”
“I am very angry with you right now, Blitzø,” Stolas replied, bowing his head to get through the warehouse door and out into the night - which was coming to an end, it seemed, the sky beginning to gain the beginnings of gold on the distant horizon.
“Hey, come on. We had it covered, didn’t we?” Blitzø reassured him. “And you, Stolas, that was incredible! All you had to do was not think about it.”
“Not think about what, Blitzø? How you could have died? Or I? What if that human had shot you in the chest or head?” Stolas hissed, striding further into the underbrush where they had left their bag of weapons and supplies. “Because that was all I could think about. What might happen if I was to lose you.”
The adrenaline was wearing off and Stolas could feel his arms and legs beginning to shake, eyes spilling with tears as he fought to continue walking.
Blitzø raised his hands to cradle Stolas’ face, “Hey, hey, pretty bird, I’m tougher than that. You know I can handle a stupid human bullet,” he reasoned. When he was met with a glare, Blitzø sighed and slid his arms back around Stolas’ shoulders, hugging him with his face buried into the crook of Stolas’ neck, “I know, it must have scared you, Stols, I’m sorry. But… for what it’s worth, you were hot as fuck back there.”
“Stop it, Blitzø,” Stolas chastised, trying not to think about the fact that he had actually noticed Blitzø’s prominent arousal when he had been strapping his wound.
“What?” Blitzø whined, sliding a hand down under the neckline of Stolas’ shirt to drag his claws through his feathers - Stolas shuddered, halting in his steps as his knees buckled. “I’m so horny from watching you kick ass all I want is to rail you into the dirt of this stupid human forest,” he hissed, lips brushing over the feathers around Stolas’ ear.
“We are covered in human blood.”
“And?”
Blitzø laughed as he was settled with another glare.
“Come on, Stolas, isn’t this like in those books you like so much? The story is over and the danger is gone, but the hero gets to kiss the shit out of his bitch, right?” Blitzø pulled his hand up from Stolas’ back and gripped the back of his neck.
“Hmm. From where I’m standing,” Stolas stated, turning Blitzø in his hold so his legs slung on either side of his waist and then took two steps to the nearest tree, pushing Blitzø against the bark with perhaps a little more force than he had originally intended. He didn’t need to be concerned though as Blitzø’s eyes rolled back into his head as he moaned, rocking his confined hard-on against Stolas’ body, “you are the bitch who was just saved by me, don’t you think?”
“Oooooh, fuck yes,” Blitzø shuddered with his cheeks flushing from arousal as he tugged at Stolas’ face by the jaw, lips parted with anticipation, “please, fucking kiss me already!”
It was all beak and teeth and tongue, tasting of iron and gunpowder, Blitzø groaning and moaning and purring as his tail wrapped itself securely around Stolas’ thigh for stability. Stolas did not expect to enjoy it as much as he did, after all the traumatic experiences he had had that evening, but the rapid thumping of his heart rate was no longer in panic, but from lust. Blitzø was a familiar warmth that coiled around him and he carefully braced a hand around his lover’s injured leg, keeping it still as he tried to reel back.
“You are insatiable,” Stolas muttered, a smile spreading across his beak as Blitzø’s arms fought to grip and tug and bury into whatever feathers he could. He hummed around another forceful kiss before he pulled back, holding the riled up Imp at bay. “We are still covered in blood and we still need to go home.”
“Fuck’s sake!” Blitzø yelled, “fine.”
From behind Stolas’ head Blitzø used the crystal to first nab their bag of supplies and then dropped them into the bathroom of their apartment. As Blitzø began to strip himself and Stolas of their clothing, he pulled out his phone and called the office - at Stolas’ insistence - to inform the team that the job was done and to warn Loona that she should take her time coming home.
She very pointedly said she’d just go to a friend’s place for the night instead.
“Works for me!” Blitzø told her and hung up before tossing the phone across the room - and then winced, hands snapping to grip the edge of the tub, “Ow! Fuck, Stolas! That hurts like a bitch!”
Stolas looked up from where he crouched in front of the tub, dropped the impacted bullet into a container. “Stop squirming, dearest. I’m almost finished.”
“I’ll finish in your mouth,” Blitzø grumbled, gritting his teeth and hissing at the sting as Stolas applied an alcohol soaked pack of gauze against the wound.
Stolas chuckled, giving Blitzø’s arousal a teasing stroke over his briefs. “Oh, I expect you will, but not before I make sure this won’t kill you in a week’s time from infection.”
“Aren’t we gonna shower and shit?”
“Yes, then I will wrap it properly and then I might let you finish in me. What do you think of that?” Stolas asked, rising enough to brush his beak over Blitzø’s lips.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Blitzø growled, lustful as he pulled Stolas back in for another bruising kiss.
-
“Hey, Stolas?”
“Yes, dear?”
“You know… I’m really grateful that you got me out of there and patched me up and stuff, you know that right?”
Stolas looked down at Blitzø, his first friend, first and only love, lay flat upon his belly upon Stolas’ chest. He’d had his cheek nuzzled into soft chest feathers before he’d begun to speak - now he had his chin angled up towards him, though he still pressed into the plume of feathers as he spoke. They had both pulled on some shorts, but were naked otherwise, with legs tangled up together and Blitzø’s tail coiled along the length of Stolas’ tail feathers.
It was not the first time Blitzø had thanked him for saving his life when he lay back on this very lounge. He wondered if it would become a trend of sorts, now that Stolas had proven he was actually capable of attending missions. He stroked a hand over the curve of one horn. “You do not need to thank me for things like that, Blitzø. I’d do it again and again, as many times as it takes.” He sighed, meeting hooded gold and red eyes with utmost affection, “Although I would prefer it if I did not need to.”
“I know, Stols. I’m… I’m really sorry I put you through that.”
For all of their conversations and communications, Blitzø was still learning how to meaningfully apologise. He never lacked for sincerity where Stolas was concerned anymore, at least not when it was a topic that required it, and Stolas loved him for the efforts he was making. However… “I am sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
Blitzø grinned at him, laughing quietly as he stroked a hand over Stolas’ head feathers. “Nah, not a ‘but’, though I can’t say I wasn’t absolutely turned on by you kicking ass and wouldn’t mind seeing you do that again.” He leaned forward with a little effort, touching a kiss to the curve of Stolas’ beak. “Maybe without me getting shot first though, hmm?”
“I completely agree with that.”