Archive of Our Own ^beta

His dad had taught him many things, most of them fucking worthless. But there were a few stubborn lessons that Blitzø had never quite been able to shake, that had wormed their way into his brain and then deep into his bones. That he lived and breathed and recited every morning like a prayer or a promise or an oath. For better, or for worse, if he was being honest.

Keep your fingers quick, your feet quicker. Find a weak point and press harder than you think you should. Look out for yourself, because no one else will do it for you.

Survival is what matters down here. And at the end of the day, all you have is yourself and a mouth that tells pretty lies.

Give them what they want, Blitzo. And then take what you need.

As he stared at the owl prince, fastened to all four posters of the bed and surely dreaming of all the things he wanted to happen that night, Blitzø stroked the cover of the grimoire. It was the reason he came here, the one thing he needed. And he needed it desperately.

He could just leave, but he already knew he wouldn’t. And he had no idea why.

Well. Perhaps the answer could be found in the demon with the goofy grin, an owl who seemed to remember Blitzø… fondly. However the fuck that happened.

Blitzø took a few soft steps forward, crouching down and sliding the book under the bedside table, safe and sound and out of sight. The last thing he needed was this royal asshole seeing it and asking questions.

No, no, it was better this way. Blitzø would appease his suddenly reawakened conscience and then collect it when he was done, once bird brain was satisfied and fucked into next year. An hour tops. Likely less.

“So, Stolas. You looking for a wild and crazy time, huh? I can lend you a hand,” he murmured, the whisper of his gloves slipping off the only other sound in the room. “But before we get going here, let’s be honest. There anything you don’t want me to do to you?”

The bird didn’t seem to think too much about his answer, blindly tilting his head towards Blitzø and smiling wide. “Nothing’s off the table, Blitzy. I want everything, all of it.” He wiggled a little on the bed sheets. “I want to feel every last inch of your massive imp cock.”

Blitzø snorted loud. “What the fuck makes you think my dick’s big?”

“Mm, I can just tell.” Another little restless wiggle, his talons curling. “It’s all in your voice. So deep and confident. Passionate.”

“Alright, cool your jets there, birdy. No need to lay it on that thick.” Blitzø rested a knee on the edge of the mattress, watching the owl coil tighter in anticipation with a smug grin. But then he paused, his conscience poking at him yet again. “Hang on, so this is your first time with another guy?”

The prince blushed deep, but didn’t say a word.

Blitzø rested a hand on the demon’s leg, his excited squirming instantly stopping. “No, wait, seriously. Is this your first time with ropes and gags too?” When he still didn’t get an answer, he pinched his thigh. “Hey, I’m not fuckin’ leaving or anything, whatever your answer is. Just spit it out.”

It was hard to gauge him with the blindfold on, but Blitzø could feel this Stolas guy pressing his leg harder into Blitzø’s hand. Ever curious and eager to poke his nose into things he shouldn’t bother with, Blitzø stroked his thumb over Stolas’s thigh and watched a shiver rocket through him, head to toe.

Huh. Interesting.

“Oh, so now you don’t know how to speak?” was all he said aloud. “No problem with dirty talk, but working out boundaries is too much for you?” He gave Stolas’s leg a light smack, the owl jolting in place and biting his lip. “Well, I’m guessing from the virginal maiden blush on your face that this is a first time all around for you.”

“And what if it is?” Stolas’s voice was timid.

“No judgment from me, pal. But I’m not fucking someone who doesn’t know what they’re god damn getting into.” He lowered his tone to something gravelly and warm, enjoying the way Stolas pressed his leg even further into Blitzø’s hand in response. “If we’re doing this, you’re gonna have to obey every single fucking thing that comes out of my mouth. You look like the kinda guy who’d enjoy that. Sounds good?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, please.” He grunted, straining against the ties. “Now, rail me with your massive cock, shove it so deep inside I’ll need medical attention!” A shrill whine. “Just touch me already.”

“Nuh-uh,” Blitzø shook his head, digging the tips of his claws into Stolas’s leg. “I give the commands around here.”

Stolas’s answering groan was sharp, his mouth reluctantly clamping shut, and Blitzø found himself grinning more than he would’ve liked.

“Safeword?”

One of Stolas’s brows raised. “Pardon me?”

Blitzø’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling, more than ready to get this part over with so they could get the ball rolling. And then he could get the fuck out of there. “If I do something you don’t like, just say the safeword and I’ll stop. No matter what. Promise.”

“Couldn’t I just say stop?”

“Oh, no, ‘cause if I’m doing my job right, you’ll be screaming all sorts of shit for the whole house to hear.” Blitzø’s voice rose to poorly imitate Stolas’s lilting accent. “Oh no, please don’t! My tiny little body can’t handle your gigantic, life-changing rod! Stop, it won’t fit…”

Stolas’s grin was wide and giddy. “So, you admit you’re a well-endowed little imp, hm?”

“Well, I haven’t had any complaints so far.”

He kicked off his boots, crawling the rest of the way onto the bed. His hand let go of Stolas’s leg as he moved up the other demon’s body, taking his time dragging his fingers along his torso and watching the way the guy shivered. Blitzø stilled when they were face-to-face, both of his hands braced on each side of Stolas’s head. He could hear the owl’s breath catch, his whole body tense like he was on the edge of tipping into the unknown.

Which… was technically true that night. And wasn’t that so much more responsibility than Blitzø ever had when it came to sex? Being someone’s fucking first? Well, first in some ways, at least. He could only cross his fingers that perhaps they’d both get what they were looking for out of this whole mess.

He heaved a sigh, his breath fanning the delicate little white feathers on Stolas’s heart-shaped face. “Safeword is blueberry.”

A flirty little hum. “Oh, are you hungry tonight, Blitzy?”

It took effort, but he ignored the thirsty fucker. “And I’m not putting a gag on you tonight.”

Stolas’s voice immediately rose in protest, the room darkening and the temperature dropping several degrees. Clearly, the guy had been super excited to get muzzled or whatever. Blitzø cast a suspicious glance around the room, the magic tingling dangerously on his skin, but remained firm.

“Nope, not happening. You’re way too new to this. I’m not gonna put a gag in your mouth for your first time. Not when you can smite me on the fucking spot if you panic or some shit. I’m not comfy with it.”

Stolas looked like he wanted to protest, probably bragging that a gag and some curtains could never hold him down, but Blitzø didn’t care. No, no, this was about something bigger than just a gag. Stolas was shaping up to be a disobedient little bitch, and if they were going to do this, playing along to the prince’s fantasy of losing control, then Blitzø needed to set the record straight.

He grasped Stolas’s chin firmly in one hand, stern fingers pressing hard. “But that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to talk my fucking ear off, either.”

“Oh, but why shouldn’t I?” Stolas’s voice was a petulant but playful growl, genuine impatience sharpening his tone. “When you won’t give me what I want?”

“Patience,” Blitzø purred, leaning in close to Stolas’s shoulder, making sure he could feel his hot breath on his feathers. “You’ll get what you want. But it’s gonna be on my goddamn terms.”

Blitzø would’ve been worried for his safety, denying the wishes of a powerful demon like this, if he didn’t also see the owl biting his lip nearly hard enough to bleed, a moan ready to rumble out of his throat. The guy was enjoying this part, testing the limits of Blitzø’s authority.

Oh, but this little prince didn’t know what he was getting into. And Blitzø was gonna put his foot down.

“Besides, I’ve noticed there’s other ways to shut you up.”

And with that, Blitzø swooped down and bit deeply into Stolas’s neck, sinking his fangs in enough to sting but not to injure. He could hear the owl’s moan finally vibrate to the surface, echoing through the bedroom.

“Tell me what you want tonight,” he murmured into his neck, feeling Stolas’s ragged, beating heart pumping out a staccato rhythm beneath his feathers.

His eyes glanced up to watch Stolas shaking his head and struggling to draw air to speak, helpless and overwhelmed from just a single bite yet again.

“I- uh,” Stolas stuttered, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know what- What am I ah- supposed to ask for?”

Blitzø wasn’t happy about it, but as he listened to that warbling voice, studying all of the owl’s subtle and not-so-subtle reactions to Blitzø’s every movement, his every word… Well, he found himself begrudgingly charmed by the whole thing.

Never in his life could Blitzø remember having a partner so eager and strangely innocent. While also being an absolute fucking freak with the dirty talk. But he supposed that’s just what spending years as a stuffy, repressed royal would do to any demon.

Giving up on getting a straight answer, Blitzø ducked back down, pressing his mouth to the hinge of Stolas’s jaw. He flicked his tongue against the spot, light and teasing, and then bit again, his hands holding Stolas steady by his shoulders as he thrashed on the bed.

Blitzø would’ve moved his attention elsewhere, maybe trailing bites down the owl’s long torso, but he felt oddly captivated by this warm spot he’d found tucked between Stolas’s neck and his loosened crimson shirt. Blitzø pulled his teeth away and licked, following it up with a bruising kiss. The most delicious sounds started pouring from Stolas’s mouth.

He flicked his tongue again, determined to leave a stinging mark hidden beneath those silky soft gray feathers.

When he was finally satisfied and his brain could move beyond the urge to bruise, Blitzø remembered his knees were resting between Stolas’s spread legs and pressed one up against the front of the owl’s pants.

“Oh!” Stolas cried out, flinching back in surprise and then pressing himself forward against Blitzø’s leg as hard as he could.

The guy clearly didn’t know what to do from there, so Blitzø happily took the lead. He rubbed his knee and thigh on that sweet spot, a steady rocking rhythm. His movements were very shallow, more of a suggestion than anything, but Stolas was moaning so loudly and shaking so hard, as if Blitzø was already pounding into him full-force.

He had never gotten such a reaction from something so simple. The imp gaped at him, staring at Stolas’s body straining with sheer need. He really must’ve been unsatisfied in the bedroom if Blitzø’s leg alone was enough to bring him to such heights. Blitzø didn’t say a word, but he kept rocking his thigh forward, dipping his head to suck another bruise into the other side of Stolas’s neck.

It only took a few motions, fifteen seconds at most, before Stolas’s volume soared higher and he started shaking, coming hard in his pants and pushing his hips down a little more, grinding his center into Blitzø’s thigh. His feathers ruffled outwards, a short bird-like screech ripping from his lungs.

Blitzø’s eyes darted up at him and were caught there, enraptured with the light blush spreading like wildfire across Stolas’s white face. He reached up a hand and tore away the blindfold.

He was suddenly struck by a need to see if Stolas would turn pink again every time he came.

Stolas blinked slowly, shaking his head to work away the dazed sheen in his expression. Then he flinched into the sheets, the delicate pink on his face eclipsed by a fiery red.

“I- I’m so sorry, Blitzy,” he rasped. The poor guy looked absolutely mortified. “I didn’t mean to finish so- so quickly. I just- No one’s ever done anything like that for me befo-”

Blitzø clamped a hand over his mouth, and they stared at each other in silence. Blitzø couldn’t see his own expression, but he could feel its stiff lines and knew it was intense, whatever it was.

When he removed his hand, Stolas kept his mouth pressed tightly shut. Blitzø hummed.

“There we go. Knew you had it in you to fucking do as you’re told.”

Stolas only whimpered, his wide eyes glued to Blitzø.

He began working his way down Stolas’s body, unbuttoning his fancy shirt and leaving a steady stream of shallow bites as he went. Several minutes ticked by as he simply explored, noting each hidden sweet spot and delighting in Stolas’s shiver every time he found a new one.

Blitzø had always taken pride in being a thorough lover, enjoying just taking his time to build up the pleasure until everyone had reached a boiling point. The orgasms were always phenomenal after that, if he said so himself. But it was a rare fucking thing indeed to find like-minded demons. Outside the Lust Ring, at least. Those lust demons could go for weeks and weeks at a time.

But besides them, nope. Hardly anybody was interested in the slower stuff. They just wanted to skip to the finish line, a quick flash of white-hot ecstasy and then nothing. No build up and no come down. So fucking boring.

Honestly, that’s what Blitzø had intended this little affair to be. A quick one and done to help a horny owl prince get his rocks off. This Stolas clearly had no idea what he was doing; one orgasm was probably all the guy could handle.

But Stolas had already finished once, looking like Blitzø had rocked his world straight to its core. Normally, that would’ve been enough for these sheltered rich types, shooing their partners out the door, but Stolas was studying Blitzø with such eagerness that the imp felt a thrill in his gut.

The owl couldn’t hold off from orgasm to save his life, sure, but what about his stamina? Just how long could that arousal-drenched gleam in his eyes stay lit? Blitzø wasn’t sure, but he liked a good challenge.

Besides, the guy wasn’t bad to look at. Not at all. Perhaps this could be more fun than he expected.

He shifted his body backwards, bringing his face level with Stolas’s pants. With a sly grin up at him, Blitzø’s dexterous fingers worked at the laces, tugging his pants open but not able to wrench them down any further.

Hmm. Maybe he shouldn’t have tied his legs up like that, but it was fine. All Blitzø needed was an opening.

He took a moment to look at Stolas’s glistening wet slit and his clit winking from beneath its hood, resting his large hands soothingly on each of the bird’s thighs. There was a drip of Stolas’s wetness leaking down towards the bed that Blitzø couldn’t resist licking up, a long slow drag of his tongue coaxing a hiss from Stolas. He was soft as velvet down there, wet and drooling. Still, Blitzø didn’t allow his tongue to actually touch his opening or his clit, instead coyly skirting around it all as it traveled upward.

One glance above showed Stolas wasn’t irritated that Blitzø didn’t dip his tongue straight in. No, he looked like even this little motion was more than he could handle, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape, chest heaving.

“So, no dick, huh?” Blitzø said with a twinkle in his eye.

Even though this conversation looked to be the last thing Stolas wanted to focus on at that moment, he still forced himself to meet Blitzø’s gaze, brow twisted with anticipation and tension like the gnarled branches of a tree. “Ah, no. I’m an avian demon. I have a cloaca instead.”

“A cloaca…” Blitzø rolled the word around in his mouth. “Is that like a vagina? It sure looks like one.”

“Not exactly. But I suppose for our purposes tonight… Well yes, that would be a close enough comparison.”

“Hey, I’ve seen demons with all sorts of much weirder shit. Just wanna know what I’m working with here, you know?” He winked and Stolas squeaked, looking a little faint.

Blitzø dipped back down, but kept his distance from Stolas’s… bird puss or whatever, for now. He instead moved his mouth to one side, kissing and licking at the seam where Stolas’s feathered leg met his hips. He then slowly drifted closer to his cunt again, inch by inch, Stolas’s voice singing louder and louder with each kiss. Before he could get to his wetness again though, Blitzø stopped, instead sucking hard enough to bruise into the feathers right beside his opening, then mouthing gently on that spot.

Stolas thrashed against his bindings, but didn’t say anything, the sharpest part of his beak digging into his lower lip.

Blitzø stubbornly stayed in that spot, teasing and tempting until he could physically feel Stolas’s thighs spasm, muscles trembling. Only when his mouth had gotten Stolas teetering on the very edge of something did Blitzø extend his tongue to actually brush against his opening, inhaling Stolas’s natural musk and tasting that delicious slick once again. The contact was light as a whisper, the best kind of tease, barely anything at all, and Stolas cried out, arching his back to a wicked angle.

Christ, he was fucking sensitive.

Blitzø only gave him a moment to recover before diving back in with a harder touch, pressing the roughest part of his tongue into the wettest part he could find, curling and then flicking it rapidly upward, repeatedly nudging Stolas’s clit. Blitzø groaned quietly, savoring the taste. The vibrations from the sound alone almost tipped Stolas over, pained bliss etched across his face. He rocked just a little against Blitzø’s mouth, chasing the feeling, and Blitzø answered by dipping his tongue inside just an inch or two, then dragging it against Stolas’s walls as he pulled it back out.

Stolas jerked and was instantly coming, twisting his head to muffle a dry sob into the blankets. The sound was so breathless, weak, desperate, body shaking apart as his orgasm blazed through him. Blitzø slipped his tongue back inside as far as it could go, massaging his walls and helping him draw everything out, feeling Stolas’s cunt pulsating all the while. After one more punched out moan, he deflated, relaxing back into the mattress. Blitzø only removed his tongue when the last of the aftershocks finally finished rocking through Stolas.

His attention had been fixed on Stolas’s face as he came, still gripping tightly to the owl’s legs, but now it was less for Stolas’s comfort and more for Blitzø’s own support, desire igniting fiercely in his veins, his neglected dick fucking throbbing.

Stolas was blushing that same color of pink again. Just like Blitzø had wanted.

It was… addicting.

Stolas’s mind was not the kindest place most days. Far from it. His many personal demons were frequent visitors, some more often than others, all of them armed with words sharp and echoing, reverberating endlessly through the cathedral of his head like the chilliest of hymns.

Octavia was the only light in his life, but to his eternal shame, sometimes even the thought of her wasn’t enough to chase his jailers away. Not completely and never, never for long.

That was where the pills came in. But they only made him feel sticky these days, slow and sad and one harsh word away from shattering completely. His soul felt like the cathedral’s fractured stained-glass window, spiderwebs of damage splintering wider and deeper, forever flinching away from the final, inevitable blow. And he was left to creep beneath the pews, a church mouse darting for safety and clutching his heart close, bleeding and battered but still somehow beating.

No, his mind was not merciful.

And his wife was a constant specter there, her shadow pacing the church’s aisles and looming tall over every happy thought he’d ever had since he learned her name as a child. Just the mere idea of her was a plague, a curse doggedly following his every step, an extra shadow he couldn’t shake. Even when she wasn’t physically beside him, he could feel the ghostly sting of her touch wrapping around his wrists, his neck, his hopes and dreams, then dragging his screaming body back to his darkest depths whenever he’d take a trembling step out into the light.

The sun never shone bright in a place like Hell, but regardless, she had gone out of her way to make sure he never felt a ray of its comfort.

And yet, miracle of miracles, holy or otherwise, at that moment, two orgasms in and floating on cloud nine, strapped to his childhood bed and his heart thundering in his chest, Stolas’s mind had never felt like this, so beautifully warm and safe. Whole. Even if only for a moment.

“You doin’ alright there?”

He could only smile, dragging himself back from the blissful, weightless pocket of outer space Blitzø had sent him to.

“Never better,” he hummed, soft and sweet like honey.

He cracked his eyes open to see Blitzø still kneeling between his legs, something hot and heavy in the little imp’s expression.

“Well, you did a real good job,” Blitzø replied, rubbing Stolas’s legs, then leaning backwards until he was sitting upright. Stolas suddenly felt overheated, his hands and feet clenching and curling with some kind of pleasure tightening in his stomach. Blitzø must’ve noticed. “You have a praise kink or something?”

Stolas tilted his head to the side. “Now, what’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, bird brain.” Blitzø slipped off the bed, a short pulse of loss aching beneath Stolas’s ribs. “But besides that, I’m genuinely impressed. I wasn’t sure you’d know how to ride an orgasm, your highness.”

It was as if all the warmth had flown from the room, a breach in space sucking all the air away.

“Stolas, please,” he choked out, the words like shattered glass dragging inside his neck. “I don’t want… I-”

Blitzø had gone still where he was standing by the bed, just watching him, his tail flicking back and forth. When it was clear Stolas couldn’t finish his sentence, Blitzø offered, “You wanna pretend for a while? None of the… royalty shit?”

Stolas nodded, tongue-tied.

“That’s fine, I can do that. Stolas. I don’t like all that fancy crap anyway.”

Blitzø looked at him, eyes slow as they slid down his frame, head to tail feathers, likely planning his next move. Stolas studied him in return and felt some of those fuzzy emotions recede, the usual numbness creeping inside in its place.

He wished his body was… more. Softer, curvier, sexier, whatever he needed to be in order to be certain that Blitzø would keep thinking about him long after their first night. He needed to do this right, or else— what? Back to the life he had before? The sadness and the chill? The loneliness?

It would’ve helped if his body wasn’t a scrawny little twig, like his wife had said. He wouldn’t even fill Blitzø’s hands if the imp tried to hold him.

Stolas’s attention snagged on Blitzø as the imp unbuttoned his own pants. He could feel his white pupils prick themselves to life, every cell in his body focused on Blitzø’s slow, too slow, fingers.

He stared right back at Stolas, pulling his trousers down just enough to free himself. No force in the universe could’ve stopped Stolas from shivering and leaking a fresh round of slick at that first glance.

Ohh, he knew he’d be perfect.

Stolas didn’t have much to compare him to, of course. His only other glimpse of a cock was in sterile old anatomy books, the diagrams flacid and purely academic. But he knew enough to immediately tell Blitzø was something… exceptional. Long, thick, and rock hard enough that Stolas couldn’t help feeling just a little flattered, the imp’s cock was a gift, bright red with cute little white spots to match the rest of his skin.

Heavens above, it was huge, though. Stolas felt a moment of fear it wouldn’t fit. And then another moment to wonder how Blitzø didn’t throw his slender back out just from carrying it around. The wonders of imp biology or somesuch, he supposed.

But Stolas’s thoughts quickly spiraled, tossing academic interest out the window in favor of more… carnal urges.

At that first glance, his mouth watered. He wanted to taste, to see just how much of that cock he could fit in his mouth, in his hands, in his cunt. He’d never been fucked before and, while he’d always been passively curious, he was now simply dying to know how it felt.

He renewed his struggle against his bound limbs, pulling hard towards Blitzø.

“Oh, please, Blitzy! Untie me, untie me, god above, please.” His voice cracked and faltered. “I need to touch you.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Blitzø prowled back towards the bed, still tantalizingly out of reach and looking like he was enjoying every torturous second of this. “Well, that’s just too bad.” His lips parted in a smile, the gleam of his yellow fangs flashing in the dim room. “Because you don’t get to touch tonight. Just me.”

This imp was going to be the end of him. There was no way he didn’t know what it would do to Stolas by taking his cock out right before his eyes, but he did it anyway. And then he denied him.

He could just tear through the canopy drapes shackling him to the bed, easy as shredding tissue paper, just a scrap of fabric. But here in this situation they’d found themselves in, Blitzø with all the control and Stolas caught in his tide, just beginning to fall into this fantasy he had always secretly craved, the torn drapes might as well have been solid blessed metal.

Blitzø returned to his place between Stolas’s spread legs, cock bobbing with each movement. Stolas licked his lips, hypnotized, half-lidded and dazed, but Blitzø only kept moving upward until they were face-to-face once more. Stolas’s eyes darted to Blitzø’s lips, only a few scant inches from his own, and his emotions abruptly flipped on a dime.

Suddenly, every part of him that had been yearning for Blitzø’s cock simply wanted to kiss his mouth instead. But while he’d had no trouble making his interest known before, back when it was mostly just sensual, Stolas’s new desire only tied itself up in knots in his stomach. The fear he’d screw things up if he said a wrong word was enough to make him bite back his request.

“What are you doing to me now, Blitzy?”

Blitzø leaned a little closer, his eyes all Stolas could see. “I’m testing you.”

One of his long red fingers stroked the outside of Stolas’s cloaca, running the length of the opening in one slow motion. It felt good, too good, almost too much for his sensitive nerves, feeling his flesh contract around nothing, craving for something to cling to. He didn’t even try to hold back his whimper, pressing his hips forward and begging for more. Blitzø’s finger obeyed and slipped inside all the way to the third knuckle, stroking his inner walls and shorting Stolas’s thoughts.

Another finger was added, the pair of them spreading and stretching gently against Stolas’s clenching muscles, care in every press of Blitzø’s fingertips. Stolas had thought the world of Blitzø when they were younger of course, but he was still surprised by his patience, easing Stolas into this brand new world.

“I won’t break,” he whispered. “You can be rough with me.”

“Oh, I will,” Blitzø answered simply, his fingers never hesitating, pumping away. “I’ve just gotta make sure you’re ready for me first, bitch. Feels like you’ve got a itsy-bitsy little virgin hole down here. Not sure it’d feel too great if I just slipped on in.”

“I can take it.” Stolas grit his beak. “And I’m not a virgin.”

“You are with this stuff.” Blitzø flexed his fingers, spreading them wider than before, the stretch still pleasurable but already pushing his boundaries. “And while I like the rough stuff, I don’t get off on seriously injuring someone when I’m fucking ‘em. Especially not when you can sue my ass in the morning.”

Stolas scoffed, but it turned into a stuttering gasp when Blitzø buried his fingers deep and swirled them just right.

“I’m hardly going to sue-”

“Fucking shush, too much talking. I’m gonna be insulted if you keep it up.”

It was all too easy to surrender to the fire Blitzø was stoking in him. He added a third finger, the slightly uncomfortable stretch quickly turning to utter bliss, stimulating every last inch. Stolas twisted and moaned as his cunt squeezed tighter and tighter, Blitzø building him up to that precipice for the third time.

His third orgasm? Already? A new record for Stolas, by far. And wasn’t that simply the saddest thought of the night?

Blitzø’s fingers plunged further than ever and brushed something deep inside Stolas, a spot he hadn’t even been aware of but that made him mewl with a single touch. He convulsed on the bed, his nerves alight with ecstasy, shock wiping his mind clear of coherent thought.

What was…?

“Ahh, so you do have a special spot,” Blitzø purred, looking very pleased with himself. “It’s not where I expected it to be, fucking owl demon body. But we got there in the end, huh?”

When Stolas couldn’t draw breath to answer, Blitzø snickered. His fingers went back to their old rhythm, pumping hard, swirling and stretching and coaxing more and more slick out of Stolas’s core. Blitzø’s expression was so calm and cool in the face of the raging inferno he was building in his helpless partner. But just as Stolas would begin to get used to the rhythm, his body relaxing some of the tension, Blitzø would dart his fingers just a little further in and stroke that magical spot inside. Only for a moment, a second at most, but it was enough. Stolas’s vision would flash white each time, his composure crumbling beneath his own sensitivity.

Jerky panting breaths were the best he could do, too lightheaded and overwhelmed to even muster a moan. His body was suspended in a desperate clutch on those talented fingers, every limb taut and trembling, straining for release.

But Blitzø never took him over the edge for the third time, always bringing him close, just brushing the edge of completion, but backing off before Stolas could tumble over. It was infuriating, the restless discomfort only making him press his body harder against Blitzø’s retreating hand.

“Please.” The word tore out of him like a wrecking ball.

“Shh,” the imp soothed, watching Stolas’s every expression. “I said I was testing you, didn’t I?”

Stolas growled. “For fuck’s sake, why? What could you be testing?”

“Your limits.” Blitzø shrugged, leaning in to playfully nip Stolas’s shoulder, drawing another helpless cry from the owl like clockwork. “I wanna see how many orgasms you’ve got in you. I’m fucking shocked you made it past one, to be honest.” His voice turned breathy and just a bit condescending. “For future reference, we call this edging. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“No, it is not!” He could feel his magic sparking to life, the drapes of the bed rustling, an electric charge in the air, the empty void of space starting to slip through the cracks Stolas was causing in his distress.

He knew his white pupils had reappeared with a vengeance when Blitzø flinched. Stolas paused and blinked, willing the room to revert back to normal. He was about to apologize, but the imp was quick to recover, looking more excited than ever with Stolas’s power still dancing in the air.

His hand was newly enthusiastic, fingers moving fast as lightning, pressing into Stolas’s bundle of nerves over and over and over again until he was a squirming, whimpering, desperate mess, leaking slick all over the blankets. His limbs were pulling so harshly against their bindings, the bed frame audibly creaking and groaning, drowned out only by the sound of Stolas’s high moaning hoots and the wet suction between his legs.

He was going to come, he could feel it, muscles tightening, back arching, pressure building warmer and warmer in his abdomen. Just as he felt the beginning pulses spark to life, one last stroke away from finishing yet again, Blitzø pulled his hand out completely. And Stolas was left to clench around nothing, his orgasm slipping out of reach.

He cried out, frenzied, but Blitzø only leaned away, licking Stolas’s juices off his hand with a wink and then reaching for the canopy drapes pining him to the bed.

“Don’t move unless I tell you to,” was all he said, calm as could be. Stolas whined, sharp and reedy, but forced himself to do as he was told. All his attention was fixed on Blitzø as he untied each of his limbs, blood rushing through him in a dizzying wave. Once Blitzø finished with the final restraint, he shifted to stripping Stolas bare, pulling off his gloves, his pants, his shirt, gentle but efficient, almost like a ritual.

The chill of the room and the come down from his orgasm-that-never-came-to-be made Stolas shiver, though he could still feel a divine warmth simmering in his center. He stared up at Blitzø, enraptured, quivering and prone on the bed sheets.

Blitzø tossed Stolas’s last scrap of clothing to the floor and then scooted backward until he was standing upright next to the bed again. Stolas’s eyes traveled downward and were caught by the spectacle of Blitzø’s rigid cock standing fully at attention at eye level. Good lord, how could he have managed to forget Blitzø had unbuttoned his pants earlier?

He felt his breath hitch, every part of his body ragged and pulsing and needy.

Blitzø only tilted his head. “Thought you wanted to suck my dick?” He tapped his hands on the front of his hips. “Come on then, birdy. I think you deserve a reward.”

Blitzø thought he would’ve been done and out of there by then. Just had to distract the prince, get him off once, maybe twice, then out the door. Or well, window. The window-door thingy on the balcony. If Blitzø was lucky, he might’ve even finished too, but it would’ve been quick and really damn unsatisfying.

But, no. Things had gone… rather differently. He’d gotten curious for fuck’s sake. To see Stolas’s pretty little orgasm face again, to watch the guy fucking melt at every tiny thing Blitzø did. It was flattering as hell, no denying it, but it didn’t feel like that was the only reason why he was still there anymore.

Blitzø had spent a solid half an hour just edging the guy. Thirty fucking minutes, his dick neglected and leaking, just begging to get shoved in that soaking wet little bird puss. But he was holding back, drawing this out, and strangely loving every second of it. To watch Stolas’s desperate, blissed-out face, using every trick he knew to work him up with his fingers, his own cock brushing against the bed, all of it— it was good. Great, even. And damn it, Blitzø was going to wring every last drop of pleasure out of this.

He couldn’t deny though, watching Stolas slowly stand up and kneel at Blitzø’s feet, eyes fixed on his dick, that Blitzø also felt a cold sting of terror pierce his heart. He was feeling a little too into this for comfort.

Better to take a few steps back and get the bird bitch on his knees, finally give him the dick he wanted so bad and then get lost. Blitzø could finish down his throat, get Stolas off one more time, and slip out into the night, job accomplished and book in hand.

Easy peasy.

But for some reason, Stolas wasn’t opening his mouth yet, looking hungry as hell for it but also kinda scared out of his mind.

“What’s the matter? Don’t want my dick anymore?”

Stolas was quick to shake his head. Blitzø saw him swallow nervously. “It isn’t that. I um… I don’t know what I’m doing.” His eyes were pleading as he looked up at Blitzø. “I need you to help me.”

Blitzø felt breathless. There was something so intoxicating about having such a powerful royal demon begging Blitzø, of all people, for genuine, good-faith guidance. Blitzø was used to having control in the bedroom of course, enjoyed the shit out of being in charge most days, but this… This was a different kind of power.

He clenched his hands for a moment, the only sign he’d allow to show how affected he was. And then he walked around Stolas to the bed, hopping up onto the edge and spreading his legs, letting them dangle freely.

“Well, you can start by coming over here. We could make it work with me standing up, yeah, but I’m not sure your innocent little ass can kneel like that for long without pulling a muscle.” He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Plus, I know you’ll never shut the fuck up if you get a crick in your neck.”

He’d thought Stolas would do his usual protests, how could Blitzø think him so weak, it was only a deep kneel, what was a crick in the neck to a Hell prince, blah blah blah. But the owl was just focused on Blitzø’s cock, unblinking, crawling forward slow and smooth as silk on his hands and knees. His feathered tail fanned outward, a flustered, though exuberant, stretch. It was the final nail in the coffin convincing Blitzø that Stolas was very, very into this.

“What do I do first?” Stolas whispered, reverent, his hands keeping Blitzø’s legs spread. With him kneeling just so, his face was now at the perfect height, just like Blitzø had planned. Christ, he couldn’t ever remember being this considerate to his partners. But the guy had called him his ‘first ever friend’ and all that junk; what else was he supposed to do? Use Stolas up as harshly as he could and then toss him aside, left to rot in whatever royal gutter he’d somehow found himself in?

Yes… his father’s voice whispered in his ear. Isn’t it better if you toss him before he can toss you?

“Blitz?”

He jerked, refocusing on Stolas blinking up at him in concern. He scowled. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

He slipped his hand behind Stolas’s head, sinking his fingers into the heat of the feathers there and tugging him forward. “Just relax, open your mouth. And watch your beak. I don’t want my dick getting fucking shredded.” Stolas gulped, but moved forward, his mouth falling open, the damp curl of his breath fanning out over Blitzø’s twitching boner. “That’s it. Start small, just a taste.”

A pleasantly long tongue unfurled, hot and wet, just brushing the plush head of his dick and picking up the bead of precum leaking from his tip. He watched as Stolas took it into his mouth, studying and savoring, apparently always a damn brainiac. He seemed to like what he got, going back in and licking a long stripe up his throbbing shaft from root to tip, leaving Blitzø to flinch on the bed and bite back a groan.

“Good job,” he rumbled, scratching the back of Stolas’s head. The bird preened where he was kneeling, squirming with pride. “Now try taking me inside. Use your tongue, keep your throat relaxed, and remember to keep breathing.”

Stolas was quick as lightning darting back in, his mouth engulfing half his length in one swoop. The owl likely would’ve continued, but his gag reflex kicked in and Blitzø held him back, wanting him to adjust to the half he’d already gotten before worrying about more.

“Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

He bit his tongue, never intending to admit he wasn’t looking to leave soon, but Stolas’s eyes flashed up to his own with such sheer, unrestrained joy that Blitzø couldn’t really bring himself to regret laying one of his cards on the table.

Stolas’s tongue made up for its lack of finesse with sheer eager energy, swirling around Blitzø’s length, then pulling off far enough to leave a wet kiss to his tip before sliding back down, taking just a little bit more of his cock into his mouth each time. It was unrefined, but effective, enough for Blitzø to fist his free hand into the blankets, feeling the fabric tear just a little.

“Don’t forget to add suction too. It’s called sucking dick after all, you know?”

Stolas hummed happily, taking his advice and hollowing his cheeks, sinking deep onto Blitzø, his tongue swirling all the while.

“Good, good job.” Blitzø groaned, suddenly feeling himself tipping a bit too close to the finish line. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus on keeping calm, teetering to the other side and back down, further away from orgasm. “Now, go up and down like before, keep it steady.”

And with that, Blitzø leaned back and allowed himself to enjoy, trusting Stolas to be able to continue from there without much guidance.

Stolas’s blow job was proving to be a bit of a fucking enigma. Everything was utterly artless, but also just right, a stuttering slide but somehow still perfect. The guy looked drunk on it all, trills of happiness rumbling up from deep inside, the vibrations blissful against his dick.

Blitzø had no idea what could be so wonderful about him. He was just an imp, an asshole, a greedy piece of shit who wanted to curl up and die when he’d glance in a mirror and see too much of his father in his face. But Stolas seemed to be having a holy experience, eyes glazed whenever he glanced Blitzø’s way, infatuated with whatever he saw there.

But Blitzø already knew that could only be a trick of the light, wishful thinking courtesy of his dusty old traitorous heart. He was empty inside, used up and spread thin and already tossed in a gutter much filthier than Stolas could ever imagine.

Still. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. It’s just one night, after all.

Blitzø could see Stolas squirming anew, grinding against his own legs as he knelt, trying to find some friction for his poor neglected bird pussy. He grinned wide, his mischievous nature stirring from where it had taken a back seat to Stolas’s uh… blowjob lessons.

“I’ll allow you to touch yourself,” he said, enjoying Stolas looking up at him hopefully with his mouth stretched wide and straining to fit his length. “But… you can’t forget about my dick. If I feel you getting distracted or some shit, you’ll be punished.”

Stolas pulled off him, catching his breath for a moment, a silvery string of saliva still connecting them together. He looked infuriatingly coy for a desperate guy on his knees. “And what would my punishment be?”

Blitzø rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Christ, you’re such a brat. I wouldn’t let you come, that’s fucking what.”

“Oh? And how would you stop me?” One of the owl’s eyebrows raised high, and Blitzø felt something in him snap.

He shifted his hand down to grasp the back of Stolas’s neck, staring him down, voice low.

“I’m in control here. I give you orgasms, you don’t take them.” His fingers twisted tighter into those feathers, feeling them quiver and ruffle outwards. “No coming unless I say so. You belong to me right now.”

It must’ve been the right thing to say, Stolas instantly lighting up like fireworks, his hand burying itself between his own legs. He resumed his blowjob, getting more and more comfortable every second, bobbing his head blissfully, slurping and suckling loud enough to make a porn star wince.

Blitzø kept a close eye on Stolas’s hand, plunging into his cunt so quick it was nearly a blur, obviously still worked up from when Blitzø edged him earlier. His thumb was dancing along the outside, pressing on his clit hard enough to make him cry out around Blitzø’s dick. But he was obeying, keeping himself from orgasm. Blitzø wasn’t sure how long he could last at that pace; he was almost positive Stolas didn’t have enough experience with his own body to know when things were getting too close to the edge. But it was the thought that counted, and Blitzø was more than appeased.

His grip loosened, going back to running steadily through Stolas’s headfeathers. “Good boy.”

He could see the guy shudder from the praise, his tongue fervently massaging his dick so damn well. Blitzø just watched it all, taking in the moment and this situation he’d somehow found himself in. It had been so, so long since he felt welcome, not the dirtbag people instantly tried to kick to the curb. And yet there he was, somehow… wanted. He felt a need to pull Stolas close and breathe him in.

Blitzø shifted his grip and started fucking Stolas’s mouth shallowly, conscious of just how new he was. The owl gagged a little, and Blitzø immediately started to pull back, but Stolas only moaned louder and sank even deeper, his throat convulsing, tears swelling and then spilling out of his eyes.

Fuck, that felt good.

Still, it was Stolas’s first time, so he pulled his dick out, allowing the poor guy a minute to catch his breath again.

“Careful,” Blitzø warned, bracing a hand on Stolas’s shoulder when he saw him sway, dizzy and ecstatic. “You don’t wanna choke.”

“Oh, but I do,” Stolas groaned. “So much.” And then he leaned forward to engulf him again, sinking all the way to the root of Blitzø’s dick, the head brushing the back of his tight throat.

There was something about it all, the simplicity or the fervor or Stolas’s ravenous expression, a fucking combination of the three. But whatever it was, Blitzø was suddenly inflamed, arousal smoldering to new heights. He pulled his dick back out and braced his arm, holding Stolas at bay with the hand on his shoulder. Stolas let out a whine, but Blitzø only knocked the owl onto his back on the floor, falling between his legs and pushing his clothed knee onto Stolas’s sex.

“You do the work this time,” he said, nudging his leg forward a little further, letting him know what he wanted. Stolas was quick to obey, his hands clutching Blitzø’s shoulders, his hips snapping forward to grind his cunt against Blitzø’s thigh. Blitzø held himself above, watching closely. The owl’s volume rose higher and higher, his movements messy but clearly getting the job done.

“Come like this. Just like this.”

The command was enough to make Stolas shatter. His voice crescendoed, shouting loud enough to easily be heard in the hallway. He fell over the edge, soaking right through Blitzø’s clothed thigh.

Blitzø found a new hobby in just watching Stolas come, noting his furrowing brow, his jaw dropping, eyes fluttering shut as bliss washed through him. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Which meant Blitzø’s attention was on him when Stolas came back down from his high, stunned and satisfied but still with that same hunger glinting in his gaze. There was something else there though, a warmth, a fondness, a cursed softness that Blitzø was finding hard to process.

Stolas was looking up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky.

Getting his heart rate back under control was certainly proving to be difficult, a stubborn but slow slide back to reality. But at the same time, quite frankly, he’d also never felt more alive.

Every nerve was sparking, euphoria in his veins, release in his muscles, contentment in his bones. And his mind was still quiet. Not blank, but quiet. And every thought was of Blitzø.

As he came back to himself, he flexed against the cool tiles of his bedroom floor, a soft wordless murmur escaping from his mouth. He could feel Blitzø still on top of him, his dick brushing against Stolas’s stomach. When he opened his eyes again, he could see Blitzø’s cock was hard as ever, his tip weeping into his abdominal feathers.

Stolas wanted to scream, all sorts of emotions beginning to crash over his head like a mighty wave. He figured, with all his inexperience, that he’d be worn out three orgasms in, but his body was wound tighter than ever, his cloaca still yearning for that perfect cock but having to settle for his fucking thigh yet again.

The next thing he knew, Blitzø was lifting him, gathering him up bridal style, no hint of a struggle. Stolas could only stare up at him, starstruck and feeling so, so lucky.

Blitzø placed him down in the center of the bed and then stripped himself bare, flinging his clothes all over the floor. Stolas held his breath.

Was he finally going to…?

Blitzø dipped down to collect one of the torn drapes from earlier, tying Stolas’s hands together in front of him and then flipping him over so that he was tail-up on the bed. A pillow was slipped under his lower abdomen, releasing him from any strain and keeping his ass held high. He could feel Blitzø clambering onto the bed behind him and then fingers brushing against his cunt.

“We’ll get to the good stuff in a hot minute,” Blitzø explained, easily stretching him open. “I’m just checking how ready you are.”

Stolas was squirming, blushing bright. He knew he was soaked, could feel himself dripping onto the bed. Honestly, it was becoming unbearable. Though only in the best way.

Fortunately, Blitzø appeared to pick up on that, moving aside Stolas’s feathered tail with his own and lining his dick up, pushing in easy as breathing. It was a slow delicious stretch, a smooth slide, drenched and hypersensitive. Inch by inch, Stolas felt his world collapse and reform, a star moving into its next stage of being. When Blitzø finally bottomed out, hips pressed flush to Stolas’s behind and a satisfying stretch in his cunt, he could only let out a shaky sigh, fingers sinking in the blankets and hanging on for dear life.

Blitzø placed a hand on his lower back, comforting but also pinning him down, anchoring Stolas to that moment. And then he started moving, and Stolas was lost, adrift at how indescribably sweet it was to be filled. Blitzø thrusted into him with force, slamming into him, his body shoved forward with each thrust. Their only point of contact was the hand on his back and his cock pistoning in and out of Stolas with the most mind-numbing friction.

“So, you like dirty talk, huh?” Blitzø growled, his voice steady. “You want it just like this, you dirty slut? You need to get railed like an animal? So desperate to be fucked by the first person to show interest.”

Stolas only whined, a note of protest in his timbre.

“I wonder how long you’ve been hiding this,” he continued, each thrust making Stolas’s cunt contract harder than the last. He could feel his slick pouring out from around Blitzø’s cock and dripping down his legs. “A whole other side of you. And your peers would roast you for it. That right? No wonder you’re so worked up for me.”

“For you, only for you,” Stolas cried.

He could feel Blitzø finally falter, a stutter in his relentless pace. But the imp was quick to shake himself and continue.

“Mm, so eager,” Blitzø purred, as if Stolas hadn’t spoken. “A cock hungry whore who needs a good dick.” Another thrust, pushing Stolas forward so violently he needed to grip the bedsheets to keep from slipping, knocking a surprised hoot from his mouth. “My dick.”

“Mmm yes,” he hissed. His cloaca was on fire with it, spasming with the heavenly first hints of his orgasm. He was crying, drooling into the blankets, hands still tied together and trapped beneath him, pressing backwards and trying so hard to get closer, their contact as necessary as breathing.

“Look at you, so hungry. Your pussy’s so ready, it wants me so bad.” He heard Blitzø groan quietly. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this.”

He picked up his pace, hips getting more violent, almost animalistic, as Stolas’s sounds turned feverish and borderline hysterical. Blitzø leaned forward, pressing Stolas down into the bed, hands braced on each side, body draped over him like the best kind of blanket.

Stolas could feel his breath on his feathers for only a second before Blitzø was biting down hard on Stolas’s shoulder, a warm wet heat and a delicious spike of pain, and then Stolas was tipping over the edge again, wrenching his head backward and writhing, his cunt squeezing like a vice around Blitzø’s dick. His orgasm was white hot, vision cutting out, but Blitzø never stopped, just fucking him through it and breathing heavy against his shoulder.

Stolas must’ve blacked out from the pleasure, because the next thing he registered was his empty cloaca and Blitzø’s calling voice, though the sound of it was far off, as if they were speaking through a long tunnel. But when Stolas opened his eyes, the imp was right there, no longer inside him but instead kneeling near his head, watching him with a smile in his eyes.

“You wanna tap out yet?” he asked.

Stolas glanced downwards. Blitzø’s cock was hard as steel. Heavens above, how had he not finished yet? This creature’s stamina was simply beyond comprehension. Or… perhaps it was Stolas doing something wrong? Nerves chased some of his happy daze away.

Blitzø followed his gaze. “Not gonna lie, I’m about to bust a fucking nut.”

“What?” Stolas squawked, waking up the rest of the way and flinching. “Are you alright? Is that safe?”

Blitzø seemed surprised by his concern, but then he threw his head back and let out a loud bark of laughter. “Relax, it just means I’m gonna come soon. One more round sound okay?”

Stolas flexed his trembling fingers, shifting his hips and feeling what was surely a combination of his own wetness and Blitzø’s cum begin to dribble out of him onto the bed. He nodded.

Blitzø stretched over and untied his hands, beckoning Stolas to flip onto his back. He had to drag his trembling limbs to do it, weak and worn out but still eager to see where Blitzø would lead him.

Once he was settled, Blitzø tied his hands together once more and looped the binding around the headboard. It looked like a rather complicated knot for such a simple thing, but honestly, what did Stolas really know about knots at the end of the day? He’d never owned a book about them. Though after tonight, perhaps he could brush up on his research before next time.

Blitzø picked up one of the loops and wiggled it for Stolas. “Pull on this part if you need to undo the knot. The rest of it’s secure and shit, you can tug all you want. But if it’s too much, pull right here, and it’ll all fall apart.”

Stolas nodded hesitantly. “Alright… Why would I need that though?”

Blitzø exhaled through his nose. “Why do I fucking bother being nice? It’s just there if you need it, for christ’s sake. You’ve been tied up a lot, and this is gonna be your fifth fucking orgasm. Honestly, I thought you would’ve passed out by now.”

“Oh, so I’m doing well?” Stolas wiggled where he was laying, tugging experimentally on Blitzø’s makeshift rope. “How wonderful.”

“You really are, I’m impressed.” Blitzø nudged his legs apart and resettled in his usual spot.

He already had a usual spot! How exciting!

Blitzø’s hands slid down Stolas’s waist, wrapping around his slight frame completely. Stolas paused, expecting the cold rush of his previous insecurity to creep up. But there was none of that. No, the feeling of those heavy hands resting on him was only soothing. Stolas couldn’t stop his small grin.

Blitzø leaned his whole body into Stolas, pressing him flat to the mattress, his weight comforting and secure, never smothering. It kept the owl grounded, spread wide open for him.

He slipped his cock inside, Stolas still so wet and stretched, the both of them exhaling breathlessly when he bottomed out. The pace was slow and steady, leisurely and tender, leaving them free to watch one another, finally face-to-face again.

It was… intimate.

“So,” Blitzø drawled, circling his hips on his next thrust, brushing that sweet spot deep inside. Stolas’s hands pulled sharply against the headboard. “Do you get off on this?” He waved one of his hands, gesturing down to where they were joined. “The sexy affair? Fucking another man while your wife’s just downstairs?”

A shudder ran down Stolas’s spine.

No, no, please. Don’t let her ruin this.

For one bone chilling moment, Stolas thought he could see her shadow growing on the far wall, stalking him, talons extended, sneering and hateful, eyes glowing in the dark.

“Stolas?”

And then Blitzø was ducking to catch his gaze, his own yellow eyes a reassuring glow. There was a knowing glint in them that made Stolas want to retreat and hide away in some dark corner. “Hey, hey, none of that. Don’t worry about her right now.” He shrugged a little, smirking. “She sounds like a fucking bitch anyway.”

Stolas couldn’t hold back an inelegant snort, feeling strangely like he wanted to cry.

“Besides, I don’t like my partners thinking about somebody else when I’m fucking them.”

The heat rocketed back through him, fresh and aching. He whined high in his throat, and Blitzø leaned close. He was all Stolas could see. “It’s just you and me here, nothing else. Tonight, you’re all mine.”

Stolas’s heart felt like it was beating far too heavy, a tether wrapping around it over and over and stretching that impossible distance to Blitzø’s own chest. He wanted with every fiber of his being for it to wrap around Blitzø too, binding them together and finally delivering the happiness he’d always wished for into his open hands.

He knew things could never be that simple, of course. But for the first time in a long time, he was willing to hope, to dream again, just a little. With Blitzø at his side, he could feel his flighty bravery finally begin to take root.

“Yes, yes, please,” was all he said, his voice a ragged gasp. “All yours.”

Blitzø didn’t say a word, but he looked newly determined. His pace kicked up several levels, the conversation over as he began fucking with intent and they both lost the mental space for speech.

The imp had been impossibly cool this entire time, expertly playing Stolas like an instrument over and over again, yet never indulging his own pleasure. But as he kept thrusting, ducking his head to nibble Stolas’s jawline, he gradually started to lose himself to it. A stutter in his pace where there hadn’t been any before, his hands clenching on the sheets, an honest, overwhelmed moan finally floating from his mouth to join Stolas’s steady chorus of sounds ringing high above them.

Stolas took it as a point of pride. He must’ve been doing something right. Blitzø… really wanted him.

He keened, bearing down on Blitzø’s cock, heat pooling in his cunt, a full-body flush taking over. A fresh gush of wetness poured out of him, drenching them both. It was so good it hurt, his sensitivity riding the knife edge between pleasure and pain. He could only thrash against his bindings, snapping his hips forward to meet Blitzø, windswept and consumed by the moment.

Blitzø suddenly put a hand on his neck, pressing sharply and driving the last of the air from his lungs. Stolas only bared his throat, tipping his head backward into the pillows, trust and submission shining quietly in his face.

Blitzø watched him, panting, flexing his fingers and thinking deep about something. He relented his grip, allowing Stolas to draw a fresh, though shallow, breath, but he kept his hand where it was.

“Do you know what you want now?” Blitzø whispered, sweat beading on his brow. “Should I fuck you into the next century? Make you forget your name? What? What do you want, Stolas?”

“A kiss,” he whimpered, his cunt contracting hard, trying its best to keep Blitzø as close as his soul was craving.

Their eyes met, and something passed between them, a current of feeling Stolas couldn’t put a name to. He knew he hadn’t imagined it though, not with Blitzø suddenly looking unsettled. The imp thrusted into him hard and then stilled.

The request was an impulse, not one shred of a thought put into his words. It was as if Blitzø’s question had plucked the answer right out of his heart, no filter, no restraint, just raw emotion. But Stolas had read enough hellish romance novels to know soft, honest answers like that weren’t always welcome. He must’ve asked for the wrong thing, but he couldn’t help it.

He just wanted to kiss him so badly.

Blitzø was staring down at his lips, a crease between his brows. He took one glance up at Stolas’s eyes and then back down to his mouth. After one long, too long, moment, the seconds stretching wide and Stolas holding his breath, Blitzø leaned in slowly.

His lips were gentle, as if Stolas was made of glass. Or perhaps it was Blitzø himself now made of glass. Two fragile hearts touching soft as a whisper, tentative but curious. It was just a brush, delicate as butterfly wings, and then Stolas was craning upward, catching Blitzø’s mouth and pulling him down with him, locking them together and sighing happily through his nose.

His first kiss.

Blitzø started to move his lips, and Stolas was quick to follow his lead, pressing softly into him. Blitzø’s hand was still pressing down onto his throat, not enough to suffocate but heavy enough that Stolas knew it was there.

Blitzø pulled back ever so slightly, licking at Stolas’s mouth, sucking on his lower lip. Stolas parted his mouth in a whimper, and Blitzø’s tongue pressed in, a hot and slow slide. It was a new sensation, warm and wet and deliciously unpredictable, tickling the roof of Stolas’s mouth one moment and then traveling down to wrap around his own tongue in an electrifying swirl.

It was… so much, so perfect, with far too many little movements for Stolas to catalog all at once. He knew in his bones, though, that he would be content studying every second of Blitzø’s kisses for the rest of his days.

And then Blitzø began to thrust again, leisurely and intent. His hand left Stolas’s neck to cup his face and keep their mouths connected, his other hand sliding up his overheated, feathered back. His body never faltered in its pace, supported by his impressive core muscles, all of them gloriously flexed whenever Stolas’s hungry eyes could peek open and catch a glimpse.

Blitzø was holding him close with a touch so tender it made his breath catch. He pulled tightly against his bound hands, ever so tempted to tug on that loop and free himself to hold Blitzø in return, his limbs itching to wrap around that precious imp. But even as his fingers danced along the loop, Stolas knew he’d never tug on it.

Giving up control and being completely at Blitzø’s mercy was just too intoxicating.

Besides, the inclusion of the loop felt a little bit like a test, and Stolas was determined to pass.

Blitzø pressed up against Stolas’s body, front to front and not an inch of space between them anymore. His hips gradually picked up speed, but the thrusts were shallow at that angle, unable to reach the oh-so-special spot inside his cunt. But honestly, Stolas wouldn’t have traded their closeness for anything.

He was straining to be even nearer, his mouth clinging to Blitzø’s lips, hips snapping up to meet each thrust. Blitzø’s pubic bone was nudging against Stolas’s clit on each downstroke, driving him wild. There was so much wetness, Stolas’s slick matting his feathers, the sound of their sexes joining together so loud. It would’ve made Stolas blush to hear it if he wasn’t already straining so hard to come apart at the seams for the fifth time that night. Exhaustion was settling into his bones, but he refused to give in, mewling into Blitzø’s mouth and contracting hard around his cock.

It was stretching him so perfectly, sparks of pleasure radiating from his core and driving him onward and into the unknown. Every part of his body felt like it was coming alive for the first time.

In the end, Blitzø was the one who fell apart first. His brow furrowed, hand tightening on Stolas’s face, pulling him impossibly closer, his tongue rolling slow in the owl’s mouth. And then he groaned loud, the sound rumbling into Stolas and tingling beneath his skin as his feathers stood on edge. Blitzø’s next thrust was a jerk, fingers trembling, slipping on Stolas’s cheek, and then a blissful warmth in his cunt, Blitzø coming harder than Stolas anticipated and spilling deep inside, pressing his hips hard against Stolas and shuddering head to toe.

The satisfaction, the sheer joy of having Blitzø finally come inside and come hard, pushed Stolas along with him. Ecstasy rolled through him, wave after wave, his head barely held above water. He felt lost in sensation, adrift and desperate for a port in the storm. His legs wrapped around Blitzø, yanking them flush with each other, his cloaca gripping, spasming, shattering as he came on Blitzø’s cock. His wetness gushed out, soaking the blanket beneath him, but Stolas didn’t notice.

It was an out of body experience, held so close and so tenderly by someone he cared for, heat radiating between them like twin stars.

The come down was surprisingly soft, his senses returning one after another. He eventually registered that Blitzø had collapsed atop him, breathing hot and heavy into his plush chest feathers, cock still buried but rapidly softening in Stolas’s cloaca. With a twitch of his fingers, Stolas tugged on the loop and freed his arms, bringing them down to rest around Blitzø’s shoulders and hold him quietly, stroking one of his horns.

And then he just laid there, staring at the canopy of his bed and blinking. His eyes began to tear up. A trembling smile tugged his freshly kissed mouth upwards.

After a minute or two, Blitzø grunted and lifted his head from Stolas’s chest, smacking his lips together and looking like he was on the edge of sleep.

Regardless, he turned his attention on Stolas, pushing up to look him in the face. “That was a damn good fuck. You okay? Need any food? Water? A bath?”

“No, I’m alright.” Stolas felt strangely timid, boneless after his come down. Was this a part of Blitzø’s routine? Checking up on his partner once they were done?

Blitzø peeled his body off of Stolas like velcro, staggering towards his attached bathroom and returning with a warm, wet cloth. He cleaned up between Stolas’s legs, checking to make sure his wrists were uninjured, eyes scanning him closely. Stolas watched him with a blush and a smitten smile.

When it appeared like Blitzø was going to draw away, Stolas darted his hand forward and tossed the damp cloth aside, grabbing Blitzø’s arm and tugging him into bed. He threw the stained blanket onto the floor and pulled the sheet up over them both, snuggling into the covers and feeling a satisfying ache in his pelvis.

Blitzø gave a quiet protest. “I really should get going-”

“Stay.” Stolas was quiet but firm, his hand resting on Blitzø’s chest and pressing him gently into the mattress. He looked directly into the imp’s drowsy eyes. “Stay.”

Blitzø glanced over Stolas’s shoulder to the bedside table for some reason, but said nothing, only shifting his body into a more comfortable position, laying on his side and facing Stolas. “Fine. But I’m out of here in the morning. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Stolas just hummed, scooting forward until he was sharing a pillow with Blitzø. Blitzø only scoffed and buried his face into it, asleep within seconds. Stolas could feel his own sleep spreading through his head like sticky sap, but he kept his eyes open, gazing at Blitzø’s sweet face and letting his thoughts wander.

He’d always known this was a vague goal of his, to sate his idle curiosity and finally sleep with another man. And by god, he’d made it. But as he laid there, feeling full for the first time he could remember, he also knew his contentment wasn’t only physical. There was something long dormant and cold inside him, longing to connect, to be desired, to feel close to something, to finally find someone. A void sitting heavy in his chest, a need lacking attention, a loss he’d had so long that he couldn’t remember a time before it.

But now… Now, he wasn’t empty anymore, wasn’t alone. Blitzø, precious Blitzø resting by his side, his first ever friend, had found him again. Against all odds, as if the hand of fate was granting him a blessing at last.

And Blitzø had wanted him, had come to him flirty and affectionate and warm. Somehow, some way, for some reason he couldn’t guess at, Blitzø had burst into his life again, and Stolas only wished to hold him there forever.

His heart no longer thundered but instead fluttered like a delicate flower in the breeze, turning to the sun and opening its petals at long last.

Blitzø awoke the next morning with a mighty stretch, the pleasant pain of a good fuck twinging in his muscles.

He cracked open his eyes and saw Stolas sound asleep, arms wrapped around him and still sharing his goddamn pillow, a small smile on his face.

Blitzø blinked, flexing his waking limbs and studying the owl prince he’d somehow tumbled into bed with. He hadn’t meant to spend the night, but he wasn’t too surprised. His body was relaxed and comfortable and sated, sunk into a plush mattress.

Last night had certainly gone much better than he’d expected. Honestly, he hadn’t had such a nice time in… ever. Sure, the guy had a mouth like a trashy romance novel, but his bird puss had been great, his stamina impressive, his enthusiasm infectious. And the way he looked at Blitzø was just…

Blitzø found himself watching Stolas’s face, and something warm trilled through him.

Then he jerked, nearly flinching off the bed.

What the fuck was wrong with him? How the hell…?

He shook himself so hard he could feel his brain rattle, slipping out of Stolas’s arms and the toasty bed. He hunted for his clothes, only bothering to put his coat and gloves on before saying fuck it and shoving the rest into his pockets.

He got down on his hands and knees and slid the grimoire out from under the side table with a giddy hum. Jumping back up to his feet, he bounced on his toes and pressed a smacking kiss to its cover.

His eyes drifted over to Stolas still snoozing peacefully, now squeezing a pillow as gently as he’d been holding Blitzø. He paused for a moment, an old memory streaking across his mind like a shooting star, him and a smiling little owl boy hanging around a leafless tree, laughing and full of hope.

He shook his head to clear it, but found his eyes stubbornly returning to Stolas. He could feel a traitorous smile growing on his face, softening with some emotion he didn’t wanna name.

He pinched himself, his smile sliding back to whatever hell hole it spawned from and forced his eyes downward. A new, much more comfortable grin stretched wide.

“Got the book, got the boooook…”

He turned and tumbled and crashed yet another party. One of his many talents, thank you very much. Shaking a cake from the bottom of his foot, he vaulted off the tea table, dodging all the stunned royal demons and trotting for the nearest gate out of the garden. He didn’t stop and stare, but as soon as he landed, he could easily recognise the bitch Stolas had seemed so frightened of the night before.

He’d made sure to kick the tea cake off his foot in her direction. He didn’t know her and it was none of his business anyway, but she definitely looked like a nasty fucking harpy.

He never turned around to look, but he easily heard the wife’s teeth-grinding screech and Stolas’s cowing, triumphant response.

Huh. Apparently, his dick had just ended a marriage. He could take a compliment.

He smiled wide, that stubborn softness trickling back in.

Perhaps he had a bit of a praise kink too.