Work Text:
Blitzø is having a shit day. It started with no coffee in the house, which led to an even grumpier Loona than usual and a groggy Blitzø having to buy them both expensive gross coffee from the bougie shop down the street from work. Then an easy job got bungled by fucking Moxxie, as usual, and turned from a half-hour job into a three-hour wild goose chase before Millie finally found the target and slit his throat.
Being late coming back meant Loona was left to her own devices for lunch, which of course meant she ate Moxxie’s lunch, which meant the imp started his little daily bitchfest the moment they portaled back. Blitzø hasn’t had a moment of peace since he opened his eyes this morning. Not to even mention all the fucking texts and calls from Stolas peppered through the day. They’d almost caught the fucker at the hour mark but then Stolas’ stupid ringtone blared and alerted their target and restarted their chase.
The only reason Blitzø hasn’t smashed this phone is because it’s the full moon tonight and he won’t have the time to get a replacement tomorrow morning. He’s got it on silent now but the screen keeps lighting up from where the phone is sitting on his desk, Stolas’ name popping up once, then twice, then again.
Stolas knows better than to contact Blitzø during work hours, aside from the specific short window he gives the bird to call in the morning. It’s infuriating, to see how little Stolas seems to care about Blitzø’s job and how he’s affecting it. A glance at the screen confirms that nothing being said is urgent, just the typical long-winded texts from the prince describing all the things he wants Blitzø to do to him tonight in vivid, excruciating detail.
The imp sighs, snatching his phone up and storming out of his office, grabbing the grimoire from its spot on Loona’s desk, pushed to the side while she flips through a new gossip rag. The hound looks up, smirking at her father knowingly. “Leaving already?”
“Well Stolas won’t stop blowing my shit up so I figured I may as well shut him up myself. We’ll call it an early day, you want the van Loonie?” She nods and he tosses her the keys, Loona grabbing them and kicking her feet up on the desk.
“Have fun,” she calls out with a snort as Blitzø leaves, the imp grumbling as he opens the grimoire. He’s shit at the spells but he’s portaled to Stolas’ enough times to have gotten it down. Well, almost. As he steps through the portal he made, he sighs as he realizes it has once again dropped him at the edge of the estate. No matter how many times he’s tried, he has yet to successfully portal into the palace, and with no clue on when the prince’s bitch wife is home, his only safe entry is through the balcony.
Blitzø curls his tail around the grimoire, ensuring his grip is tight before he sighs and begins his climb. The majority of it isn’t too bad, a tall trellis with vines sits close enough to Stolas’ room to be a good starting point. But once he reaches the top it’s all tiny ledges and claws gripping desperately until he reaches the balcony edge and heaves himself over, groaning as he drops onto the floor.
“Blitzy? So early!” The bird’s hoots of delight carry through the open door, the prince beaming as Blitzø picks himself up and dusts off before walking in. “I see it was not only me who has been looking forward to some fun!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fucking gagging for it. Hey, can you get some food sent up here, I’ll need some energy before I fuck your brains out.” Blitzø only realized halfway through scaling the palace that he hasn’t actually eaten yet today, and the last time he tried fucking Stolas on an empty stomach he ended up passing out. It was right after a really great blowjob, so he’d still call it worth it, but still, he’ll avoid that again if he can.
“Of course, darling. What would you like? Steak? Chicken? Perhaps a lovely refreshing bowl of Vichyssoise?”
“Chicken’s fine. Mind if I use your shower real quick?” Fuck, he really did just sort of show up first, think later. He never shows up to Stolas so unprepared. Thankfully the bird doesn’t seem to mind, tittering as he leans down and takes Blitzø’s hand before grabbing the grimoire with his other, leading him to the ensuite bathroom. They both know Blitzø knows full well where it is, but he lets Stolas lead him anyway, too tired to start arguing already.
“Take your time, dear. I’ll have something set out for you to change into.”
Stolas leaves him be, shockingly, and Blitzø strips down and clambers into the tub with some effort. The sides are almost as tall as he is, but he’s nothing if not persistent. He takes a quick shower, and by the time he’s done, he can smell something good wafting in from the other room. Stolas has left him a robe, and nothing else. Great. At least it’s his size, but it certainly doesn’t make him feel less like a whore being left in just a robe.
When he returns to the bedroom he sees that he was right in thinking his food arrived, a small tray set on the table in the corner with Stolas already sat in one of the chairs by it, his long legs crossed and eyes crinkling in mirth as he spots Blitzø. “I can’t wait to get you all dirty again later, Blitzy. Come, eat!”
The assassin shuffles over, Stolas picking him up without asking to set him in the tall chair, the imp bristling in annoyance before his hunger takes over and he stops himself from bitching Stolas out by shoving some chicken in his mouth. His chefs have been extra, as usual, and sent up some kind of chicken, vegetable, and rice medley. It tastes good, so it’s whatever. He shovels it into his mouth at record speed, sighing at the satisfaction of a proper meal.
The owl is watching him with amusement, like he’s a damn show to be enjoyed instead of another person. He does this often, though at least when Blitzø glares at him he usually plays dumb and averts his gaze. He doesn’t today, his smile actually widening when Blitzø’s attention turns to him, bouncing in his seat slightly as he watches the imp.
“Is it to your liking?”
“S’great. Thanks.”
Stolas beams like he made the damn dish himself, giggling and flushing as he leans back in his chair. “Oh, I am so glad to hear it. How has your day been, Blitzy? You seemed rather unavailable.”
Blitzø pauses mid-bite to shoot Stolas an annoyed look. “Oh did I? Did I seem unavailable in the middle of my fucking work day? During the job I do where I sneak up on people and fucking shoot them in the head? Did I seem busy?”
“Yes, quite,” the sarcasm in Blitzø’s voice floats right over the owl’s head, the prince looking completely unbothered as he continues bouncing his leg. “I was beginning to be rather frustrated, you see, I’d had a fantastic idea come to me last night during a very… enjoyable dream.” Stolas titters again, pressing a hand to his mouth as he reminisces. “I thought perhaps we could roleplay! You’d be a daring knight, come to s-”
“Yeah, listen Stols, I’m not up for a whole scenario tonight. Let me fuck you how you deserve to be fucked tonight, alright?”
The bird shivers in excitement, beak clacking as Blitzø continues cramming food into himself as fast as possible. “Oh Blitzy, that sounds like it’d be delightful. And in what way do I deserve to be fucked tonight, if I may ask?”
“Well,” Blitzø pauses, mouth full. “We’ll just have to figure that out.” It’s good enough for Stolas, who hums and grabs a glass next to him Blitzø has only just noticed, filled with wine. He drains it and pours another, pausing the bottle above an empty glass nearer to Blitzø. The imp gives a little nod and Stolas fills the glass for him too. He takes a sip, he’s not the hugest wine fan but it’ll do.
“So,” Stolas starts, swirling the glass in his hands slowly. “How has your day been? Had a successful mission?”
The annoyance that had been starting to die off flares back in an instant as Blitzø is reminded of the frustrating day he’s had, made no better by Stolas’ constant bothering. “It’s been long,” he decides on, trying to tame himself. “Was supposed to be an easy job but it took 3 damn hours.”
“3 hours doesn’t seem that long,” Stolas hums, completely oblivious to the ire he’s building in Blitzø with his careless words. “So long as you got him in the end, isn’t that all that matters?”
“Of course, it isn’t!” Blitzø snarls around a mouthful of food. “There’s no point wasting valuable time on a single job when we could get 4 done in that same time!” Stolas merely gives a little ‘hm’ in reply, sipping his wine.
“You’ll get them done tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“But if we got them done today, we could get 4 more tomorrow! It’s about the quantity, Stolas. The more hits the better. Which, by the way, is part of why you shouldn’t be blowing my damn phone up outside of your designated hour.”
The owl finally seems bothered by something, huffing and shifting a little in his seat. “8 am is simply unseemly for our call time to be, Blitzy! You know I am a bit of a night owl,” he giggles at his own joke, Blitzø rolling his eyes as he scoops another spoonful of rice into his mouth. “Surely your little job could’ve waited until after you’d responded.”
“I was in the middle of that ‘little job’ when you called! You’re the reason he ran the second time! We could’ve made up for Moxxie’s fuck up with only a half hour lost if you hadn’t set my ringer off.”
“Ah,” Stolas finally looks a little remorseful. “I’m terribly sorry, Blitzy. I was just excited to see you tonight. But as you said, you did get him eventually, so no harm done. Thirty minutes, three hours, it’s not all that much in the grand scheme of things is it?”
“Is that what you think?”
“Sure! I mean, when one studies the cosmos as I do, you realize how little time seems to matter when it comes to the smaller segments of it like that.”
“So… If it doesn’t matter how long it takes, so long as the job gets done, would you say that we can take as long in bed as I want so long as you get off at the end?”
Stolas’ neck floofs up, the owl hooting excitedly and smirking at Blitzø. “You can stay as long as you like, darling, I would never mind that.”
Blitzø grins at him, downing the remainder of his wine glass and hopping down from the table, his plate clean. “Alright. You keep that in mind for later.” He walks over to the bed, unties the robe, and lets it drop.
Stolas reacts immediately, his pupils flashing into existence and betraying his gaze as they immediately shift downward, drinking in the naked imp. The bird downs what’s left of his wine and gets up, walking over and leaning down to kiss Blitzø. The imp blocks him, pressing a hand against the bird’s beak.
“Knees.”
The prince drops to his knees in front of him, pupils disappearing but that’s no problem. Blitzø can read him like a book, with or without them. “You want to get fucked, you gotta get it ready.” Stolas shivers in anticipation, nodding obediently as he leans down. Even on his knees, he’s still too tall for this, but the prince has no problem bowing for Blitzø, whichever way the imp wants him.
He presses his beak to red hot skin, pressing short sharp kisses into Blitzø’s waist as he leans lower, then his hips, and then he’s reached his goal. Blitzø’s cock hangs limp between his legs, still an impressive sight even in this state, and it twitches from the first gentle touch of Stolas’ hand, gripping the base and raising it slightly.
Stolas opens his beak wide and slides Blitzø right in. A special perk about fucking a Goetia? No gag reflex. Blitzø hisses at the sudden wet heat that envelops him, a hand immediately tangling in the soft feathers of Stolas’ head and tugging hard. “Don’t jump the gun, Stolas,” he warns, the owl cooing around his cock as he slides back off it and titters.
“Merely giving it a little lubrication, Blitzy,” he purrs, proving his point by sliding the hand that had been holding the base up and then down, path eased by the saliva sticking to the shaft. Stolas smiles up at Blitzø as his hands keep busy, the imp fighting the urge to buck into his touch every time his soft fingers graze the head. “I’ve been looking forward to getting my hands on this, you know.”
“No way, I had no idea from the dozens of messages you sent me.”
The bird merely chuckles, kissing the tip of Blitzø’s dick and looking terribly smug when it elicits a groan from the imp. His cock comes to life quickly under Stolas’ ministrations, and once it stands at attention on its own he tugs on the owl’s head, pushing him until his beak presses against it. “You get three, then you get naked and lay on the bed on your back.”
“Yes, Blitzy,” Stolas breathes, opening his beak and letting Blitzø press in. He sucks eagerly once his mouth is filled, moaning around the imp’s dick like it’s the best thing he’s had in his mouth in weeks. It probably has, considering the fucker lives on mice and voles. Better not to think about that when his dick’s halfway down the bird’s throat, though.
When three minutes are up Blitzø yanks Stolas off of him, the prince whining but letting himself be pulled back, standing up the moment the assassin lets his head go and wriggling out of his romper. The moment he’s naked he crawls onto his bed, giggling with excitement as he settles in the middle on his back, waving excitedly at Blitzø who stays at the foot of the bed.
The imp rolls his eyes, lips quirking into a crooked smile as he opens the trunk at the foot of the bed, rifling through it until he emerges victorious, rope in hand. Stolas’s feathers floof excitedly, the owl immediately raising his hands above his head. Blitzø chuckles as he climbs onto the bed, standing over the prince as he ties the ropes to the bedposts first. “Eager as always, like you couldn’t just rip right out of these in a second,” he mutters, Stolas tutting in reply.
“But I won’t, because you put them on me, Blitzy.”
He tries to ignore the way that response makes his cock twitch, but the tittering from below ensures that it didn’t go unnoticed by Stolas. He grabs the bird's wrists and ties them expertly, the black of his feathers a beautiful contrast to the pale pink ropes they use. Stolas smiles up at him from below, puffing up slightly when Blitzø’s attention returns to him.
The imp steps back to admire his handiwork, and then he walks further down the bed, kicking lightly at the owl’s legs and grinning as they splay open for him with ease. “You’re a fucking faucet already birdy, what a mess.” He nudges Stolas’s cloaca with the tip of his hoof, a strand of slick stretching with it when he pulls it away. Stolas whines, grinding down against the momentary touch and sighing when it retreats.
“Please, Blitzy, put that fat cock of yours in me already.”
Blitzø levels him with a look and the owl’s beak snaps closed, looking slightly shameful for talking out of turn. “You’ll be light with your words tonight or you’ll get the gag and I promise you won’t be happy about it. Got it?”
Stolas nods rapidly, sighing again when Blitzø teases him with his hoof again before kneeling down between the owl’s spindly legs. “You know, you fed me pretty well, but I think I’ve still got room. Got anything else I should eat?” he grins cheesily, smile widening when Stolas eats it up, hooting excitedly and bucking his hips.
“Eat me, Blitzy, please, oh please!”
“Eat you, huh? You think you deserve it?”
“Oh yes, please, please!”
The imp shifts lower, sliding his hands down Stolas’ thighs, dragging his nails lightly, and enjoying the way the bird’s body shudders beneath him. When his hands reach the cloaca he spreads it slightly, admiring the sopping mess waiting to be cleaned up with his mouth. He can always count on Stolas to be wet and ready for him at any time, it makes quickies a breeze.
Tonight though, will be anything but quick. Blitzø presses closer, a rare and gentle kiss to just above Stolas’ birdpuss that earns a jolt of surprise from him, and then Blitzø licks a stripe right up the middle of it. “Oh, Blitzy, yes,” the response is immediate, with Stolas writhing against his restraints and trying to grind down against the imp’s mouth.
Blitzø gives a little smack to the owl’s thigh and he settles, sighing petulantly but saying nothing else. He’s rewarded by another lick, this one responded to more mutely, though he does still do his best to try and grind against Blitzø. The imp curls his hands around Stolas’ thighs and then he dives in properly, focusing his attention first on the bird’s clit. His lips curl around it as he suckles at it, lips tugging up in the corners at the choked inhale he gets from Stolas for it.
“Blitzy,” the owl starts, then stops himself, whining wordlessly and trying to be good. Blitzø rewards him by teasing his clit until the bird is dripping heavily again, and then he turns his attention lower. Slowly he presses in with his tongue, indulges first in lapping up the new mess before pushing onwards to make more. Stolas moans, as loud and indecent as possible, his skinny legs latching over the imp’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
He’s lucky Blitzø is more interested in continuing than he is in punishing him, for now. The imp’s tongue unfurls to its maximum length inside him, exploring the wet depths he knows on an impossible level at this point. It’s as easy as pie for him to find the bird’s special spot, curling his tongue upward until he finds the area that’s a bit more textured, and then his birdy sings.
“Oh fuck! Yes, please, please, again!” Stolas gasps and whimpers as Blitzø does as he asked, brushing it again and sending ripples of pleasure soaring through the owl. “Yes, oh yes, Blitzy, Blitz-” he chokes on his words as a finger enters him as well, groaning as Blitzø starts to fill him up in the way he knows Stolas likes almost as much as his cock.
It’s slower than usual, but still all the bird is looking for, clear by the happy gasps and chirps and strangled words he keeps making. Stolas is never quiet except for those particularly powerful orgasms, or when Blitzø gets a gag in him. His body tenses as Blitzø teases the spot again, focusing his attention there, pulling his tongue out to make room for his fingers as he crooks them and presses it with more force than his tongue can give. Stolas shrieks with enjoyment, grinding his hips down desperately.
Blitzø can tell he’s close, the way his legs shake from their perch on his shoulders, the way he’s stopped even attempting to say words, giving in to showing his enjoyment by moans and whines alone. He gives one more light, barely-there brush, and then he pulls out completely. Stolas squawks in surprise as his legs drop to the bed when Blitzø pulls away, pupils flashing and his annoyance clear as day on his face.
“Blitzy! I was almost there!” He huffs, clearly still unaware that that is exactly what Blitzø was going for. Well, the imp’s not gonna tell him, not yet at least. Instead, he grins again, wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping it slowly, more for show than to actually do anything for him.
“Don’t get impatient on me now, pretty bird. Wouldn’t you rather come on my dick?”
“Well, yes, but you know I’ve got a rather quick refractory period. I could happily come as many times as you like.”
“More like as many times as you like,” Blitzø mutters, shuffling back in between Stolas’ legs and sliding his hands up under the bird’s hips, lifting him with ease and settling him back on Blitzø’s thighs as he kneels on the bed. “You gonna be good, or should I leave you here like this while I go take a smoke?”
“I’ll be good, I swear it,” Stolas’ voice is high and bubbly, his excitement returning in seconds now that Blitzø is touching him again. “I’ll be so good for you, Blitzy, please.”
“Yeah right,” Blitzø snorts, but he presses the tip of his cock to the bird’s entrance anyways, pressing in just slightly. It’s enough to get an excited hoot, but he doesn’t go in yet, instead deciding to shift closer so he can rub against the outside of Stolas’ cloaca instead of going in yet. “Never need lube when you’re this fucking wet,” he huffs, the moistness of the owl’s cloaca giving him all the slickness he needs as he grinds against it. “Fuck.”
“Blitzyyy,” the bird whines, clearly unhappy with the turn of events, but he doesn’t say any more than that. Blitzø just rolls his body against him, sighing at the pleasant friction on his cock.
“Take it or leave it, bitch.”
Stolas chitters, but a short gasp leaves him when Blitzø’s cock brushes his clit, and his mood turns back to something favorable. “There, again please,” he murmurs, and Blitzø humors him, a little moan escaping Stolas, and then another, as Blitzø shifts his cock so it is constantly brushing against it, a slow, drawn-out tease of pleasure. They frot like this for a few minutes before Blitzø gets bored and slides lower and presses in with no warning, half in before he pauses.
The bird responds as he expects, his pupils flashing and feathers fluffing as his hips twitch excitedly and he tries to draw Blitzø in deeper by locking his legs behind the imp’s back again. Blitzø stays where he is, pinching Stolas’ inner thigh and grinning at the little whimper he makes as his legs relax around Blitzø obediently.
Blitzø slides in further at his own pace, choosing to be especially slow today, just to draw out the frustration from Stolas that much more. When he finally bottoms out, he sighs at the tight wet heat surrounding his cock, leaning forward and pressing his face into the owl’s chest fluff, just barely able to reach the bottom of it like this. “Satan, you feel so fucking good, Stols.”
Stolas coos happily, gently rubbing at the imp’s back with one of his legs, careful of the spines there. “You feel wonderful inside me, Blitzy. Please, give me more?” Blitzø rubs his face into the soft feathers before pulling himself up and giving in to the pleasure. His pace is still slower than usual, but they both still get lost in it with ease. Stolas writhes beneath him, his talons clutching at air every time Blitzø gives him a slightly harder thrust.
It’s more difficult than he expects to not just let loose. Stolas feels fucking amazing, and the face he’s making makes Blitzø want to keep going until he totally unravels. But he has a plan, and he’s got to stick to it. He hikes Stolas up a bit higher on his body, fixing his grip, and then his hips start pistoning, short shallow thrusts that have the owl trilling, face flushed as he gasps Blitzø’s name. It’s even easier to tell when Stolas is close like this, his expression tells him all he needs to know, but the way his cunt clenches doesn’t hurt either.
Blitzø goes completely still, and Stolas’ head snaps up in attention. “Blitzy?” he calls out, breathless, confusion slipping over his features. “Are you alright?”
“Just peachy, Stols,” the assassin grins at Stolas, his fingers digging in slightly and relishing the way the bird’s thighs twitch in his grip. “Why?”
“I, er, nothing. Please, go on.” That won’t do. That’s fine, he’ll get there eventually. Blitzø begins anew, Stolas sighing in relief as the imp presses back into him. They build up the tension again, just heat and hands gripping and thighs shaking and then Blitzø stills again when he feels Stolas getting too tense. The bird whimpers at the lack of contact, the eyes he’d had squeezed tightly closed blinking open to look down at Blitzø once more, trying to figure out what issue the imp must be having to keep stopping like this.
Before he can ask again Blitzø restarts, a surprised chirp escaping Stolas as the pleasure thrums through him suddenly again and he forgets there was any problem again until Blitzø does it once more a couple of minutes later. “Why are you doing that?” The owl manages to get out, chest heaving as he fights to settle back down from the peak he’d been so close to cresting once again.
“Doing what, birdy?”
“Stopping and starting. You don’t typically do this.”
The imp just shrugs, jerking his hips and bottoming out again, grinning at the strangled moan Stolas gives. “Blitzy, please! I’m so close, please,” he begs, Blitzø shifting his grip on the bird to hold him with one hand so he can brush a thumb over his clit as he resumes thrusting. Stolas wails as the urge to come returns full force, just out of reach. He's nearly there, eyes getting teary, his back arching and legs shaking, and then the imp stops and pulls his hand back.
“Blitzø!”
“Ooh, you used my actual name this time. What’s up?”
The owl is glaring at him now, head snapped up in a way that certainly isn’t how necks are usually meant to work, feathers puffed up. “Why are you doing this to me?!” His voice is strained, eyes glowing hot with unshed tears blurring them, his whole body trembling with unspent energy. Blitzø’s smile is crooked as he fixes his grip, Stolas held between both his hands again.
“I don’t see what the problem is, Stols. You said it yourself, doesn’t matter how long it takes so long as the job gets done, right?”
Stolas blinks dumbly, processing the imp’s words for a moment before it clicks, his body sagging with annoyed understanding. “I see. It seems I’ve had a lapse in judgment regarding your work and the efforts within it.”
“You could say that.”
“I’m sorry, Blitzy. You were right, of course, it would be ideal to get more jobs done on the same day even if you had the time tomorrow.”
“Glad you were able to see my side of things. So, are you going to blow my phone up next full moon again because the time it takes for one job ‘doesn’t matter’? Or will you stick to our call time?”
“I’ll be good. I’ll stick to our 8 am slot you’ve so kindly given me, and text only after the office is closed, I promise.” The owl huffs, dropping his head back to the bed and wriggling in the imp’s grasp. “Now please, may I have an orgasm or two?”
Blitzø’s expression darkens, his grip on Stolas’ hips tighter as he readies himself for a busy night ahead.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…”
***
“Please! Blitzø, please!”
“Please, what? Oh, you want another one, birdy?” Blitzø grins as he presses the vibrator to Stolas’ clit again, the prince’s cunt clenching around him tightly as he shrieks and squirms, desperate to get away from the overwhelming sensation but he’s still bound to the bed.
“No! I can’t, please, I really can’t!” Stolas is sobbing, big fat tears that have been rolling down his cheeks for the last hour off and on. Blitzø gives a lazy thrust into the bird, earning another sob in reply, the thighs in the imp’s hands trembling non-stop.
The deep red of the setting sun is long gone, the full moon high in the sky now in its place. Stolas thrashes lamely against the bindings, giving up fast and returning to pleading.
“I’ve been so good, haven’t I, Blitzy? Please, just, just ten minutes, let me rest ten minutes.”
Blitzø pulls the vibrator away immediately, eyeing Stolas’s face carefully. “Color?”
The bird’s face crumples, sniffling as he pouts and looks away. “G-Green.”
“Thought so, just making sure. My whiny little bird,” the imp chuckles and presses the vibrator back, notching the strength up and grinning as Stolas shrieks and his squirming restarts, desperate pleas for mercy thrown out for no one to truly heed. “You love this, don’t you? Such a sopping wet slut, making a mess of yourself. Wanna see if we can break your record?”
The bird’s eyes are wide, whimpering when Blitzø fucks into him again, swapping the stimulation and holding the vibrator up while he gets a few thrusts in. “What’s my record?” Stolas asks between moans, and Blitzø feels embarrassed for a moment at playing his hand and admitting he’s kept track.
He brings back the vibrator and pumps into Stolas at the same time, and it takes only a few more thrusts before Stolas is tight around his cock again, the bird gasping and trilling and then he’s over the edge again, slick pouring out around Blitzø’s cock as Stolas comes. His body is painfully tense and then it goes lax, dropping back onto the bed with a thump as Blitzø pulls out. He didn’t get off yet this time, but he’s got no problem waiting a bit longer, idly running his hands up and down the bird’s thigh as he sits between his legs still.
“Do you know what number that was, Stols?” He asks when the bird seems back to reality enough, Stolas lifting his head slightly to look at Blitzø better, his chest still heaving.
“I think… seven?”
“Good job.” The praise makes the owl’s neck fluff up instantly, Blitzø chuckling and continuing to stroke Stolas’ thigh. “Your record is ten. Think we could get to a nice even twelve?”
Pupils blink into existence in an instant, the owl’s face flushed and breathing still ragged as he clacks his beak excitedly and wiggles his legs a little, spreading them a bit further.
“Well, I suppose we could give it a shot.”