Fraynds in Genum (Friends in Hell): Blitzo and Moxxie Friendship Oneshots

by Disney_FaN_21

Summary:

A series of oneshots surrounding Blitzo and Moxxie's friendship. Inspired by cranberry086's series 'Blitzo and Moxxie: Sometimes Friends.' Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Blitzo's Rough Night

Author's Note: this was partly inspired by a comic I found on tumblr by yokibird013, which I found absolutely adorable. Do check it out! :)

Hope you all enjoy this story! <3

……….

Moxxie opened his eyes, blinking the sleep out of his eyes; to see Blitzo nestled between himself and a still-slumbering Millie.

Of fucking course. He let out a small sigh.

"Hello, Sir." Moxxie said quietly, so as not to wake up his wife; he didn't know why though; Millie could sleep like the dead.

"Hey, Mox," Blitzo mumbled quietly. It was then that the weapons specialist caught sight of his boss's eyes; puffy, and lacking their usual spark.

Another rough night.

Empathy ablaze in his heart, Moxxie reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on his boss's arm.

"Would you like to talk, Sir?" Moxxie asked quietly, allowing his fingers to rub his friend's arm.

Blitzo didn't reply; just gave Moxxie a 'puppy-dog eyes' look. Moxxie sighed again, this time in relent.

"Thanks, Mox." Blitzo said quietly, into his employee's pyjama sleeve. "It's one of those nights I wish I could turn my fucking mind off."

Moxxie felt something wet splash on his sleeve, and squeezed Blitzo's arm. "I feel you, Sir." He replied. "I know I can't switch your mind off for you, or anything… but, I'll, I'll be here - both me and Millie - be that constant when your mind won't stay still long enough to process what's going on in it."

Blitzo nodded once, wishing his eyes would stop welling up. "Thanks, buddy," he mumbled.

"Well, you were there when I had to endure my darkest moments after we broke out of prison." Moxxie said sincerely.

"Heh, I guess I was, wasn't I?" Blitzo mumbled. "That… that was something…"

Guessing what was on Blitzo's mind, Moxxie shifted closer to his boss. "I know you think all you're good for is ruining people's lives… but you saved mine." He whispered. "And I'm gonna be an absolute bitch to you to say thanks."

This got a teary giggle from Blitzo; still muffled into Moxxie's sleeve. "Ya keep on bitchin', bitch, might just keep me out of jail." He joked. 

The pair giggled then, forgetting to be quiet for Millie's sake; but when they realised, and tried to shush themselves and each other, Millie only rolled onto her side, leaving both male imps sheepish.

"Sorry, Mills." Blitzo whispered over his shoulder.

Millie grunted something unintelligible in reply and went back to sleep.

"Oh crumbs, we've done it now," Moxxie said sheepishly.

"What the fuck did she say?"

"I'm surprised you haven't bothered to study that for yourself, seeing as you spy on us in our sleep so much." Moxxie grumbled, but there was no malice; or even annoyance, for once. He added, after a beat, "She threatened to kill us, Sir." He translated.

"Really?"

"Millie likes her sleep, you're lucky that she likes the Harvest Moon Festival more than sleep." Moxxie commented.

"Bitch."

"Asshole."

The two descended into silence.

"So, how are you feeling, S-Blitzo?" Moxxie asked, more tenderly.

"Still feel like a stewing piece of crap." Blitzo answered frankly. "But, I feel a bit better talking with ya." His hand found Moxxie's, and he gently grabbed it, giving it a 'thank you' squeeze. "But bitch, not a word to anyone about this, OK?"

"OK. On one condition."

"Yeah, baby dick?"

"Why the fuck is there a hole in our bedroom window?"

"... sorry, used a grappling hook to break in," muttered Blitzo. "I'll call ya guys a window fitter tomorrow."

"You better, or you'll have Millie to contend with." Moxxie answered. "And I won't restrain her."

"Fuck you, bitch!"

Moxxie just smirked. "Goodnight, sir,"
And then, as he let out a cute little yawn, he added, "I hope you sleep better, my friend."

As Moxxie snuggled up to Blitzo, resting his head on the boss imp's shoulder, Blitzo found himself unable to speak.

He just gently combed his fingers through Moxxie's fluffy hair and mumbled "Goodnight, Mox. I love ya, buddy - I'm so glad you're my friend, despite all my shit." He wiped his teary eyes again.

"Not that you heard it from me, but I'm so grateful we met. Sweet dreams, baby dick."

And he settled down to sleep beside his weapons specialist; his ex-cellmate turned best friend.

Chapter 2: Birthday Cake

Summary:

Moxxie makes a birthday cake for Blitzo, shortly after the two bust out of jail.

Despite feeling exhausted.from last night's endeavours, Moxxie dutifully awoke when he heard his alarm go off. 

 

He got up, went to the bathroom and had a quick shower, got dressed before heading to the living space/Blitzo's bedroom, to see Blitzo and Loona were sitting on the sofa with plates of pancakes and bacon. 

 

They didn't look half bad, actually. 

 

"Morning, Mox!" Blitzo said cheerily. Loona grunted in the weapon specialist's direction. 

 

"Erm, morning sir, Loona," Moxxie answered politely, stopping at a respectful distance. "Erm, happy birthday, Blitzo," 

 

"Aww, thanks, Mox!" Blitzo blushed. "Want breakfast? My Loonie made these." He smiled dotingly at Loona, whi only rolled her eyes. 

 

"Wait, you can…?" 

 

Loona shrugged. "Nothing fancy, I just picked up some recipes from Julienne Drizzle on VoxTube." She nodded to her phone, which was on her lap. 

 

Moxxie nodded in understanding. "Good to see you didn't set the place on fire or anything," he remarked, drolly. 

 

"Watch it, fatty!" Loona snapped, furious. 

 

Moxxie quickly realised passing Loona off wasn't a good idea, because; one, it was a general health and safety hazard to piss off his Hellhound coworker, and two, she knew his secret, and could potentially ruin it. 

 

Moxxie had no idea if she could be that mean, ruining a birthday surprise for her own father when he made the effort for her birthday and adoption anniversaries; cos he could tell Loona was secretly - very secretly - fond of Blitzo, in a way; but, he couldn't risk the surprise being ruined on a silly argument. 

 

So, he begrudgingly apologised. Loona growled back, before stuffing another bit of pancake in her mouth. 

 

Good, he didn't have to worry about Loona then. Moxxie allowed his body to relax with relief. 

 

"Hey, Baby Dick!"

 

Immediately, his body tensed again. Shit, he really needed to work on not tensing up when Blitzo addressed him; but, old habits were difficult to break. 

 

"Yes, Sir?" Moxxie asked his boss, uncertainly. 

 

"Loonie and I are heading out to lunch, and we're gonna go for a little drive after. Wanna come with?" 

 

Moxxie could see the hope glittering in Blitzo's eyes, and guilt churned in his gut. 

 

Those did sound nice; after all, Moxxie was still relatively new to Imp City, and the desire to explore tugged at his soul. 

 

But, he knew he needed to finish his friend's birthday cake, and this was an ideal time to have it iced and decorated by the time Blizo and Loona got back. 

 

"Erm, I don't feel too good, Sir." He lied, clutching his belly. It was a little cliche, perhaps, and very unoriginal; but useful, seeing as food was involved, and no one liked risking vomiting or worse. 

 

Besides, Moxxie was more prone to illness than either Blitzo or Loona, so this lent some credence to the lie. 

 

Sure enough, Blitzo frowned in concern, and put the back of his hand across Moxxie's forehead. 

 

Moxxie hadn't expected the contact, but, as silly as it seemed, he relished the feeling of his boss's hand on his forehead, until Blitzo removed it. 

 

"You're burning up a bit, buddy." He remarked. "Maybe you should stay home. Maybe another time." 

 

"Yeah…" Moxxie said, guiltily. "But you two go on ahead, enjoy your lunch," he said, managing a weak smile. 

 

"Nevermind. See you later, bye!" Blitzo called out, giving Moxxie a cheery wave as he grabbed his car keys and hurried out the door. 

 

"Bye fatty!" Loona called, smirking at Moxxie's indignant face. 

 

"See you guys later!" Moxxie called back, waving until the door slammed, and then, sighing with relief, scarpered to the kitchen.  

 

…

 

Moxxie was feeling a little warm, but he figured it was perhaps trepidation, and a little bit of physical exertion from earlier, when he ran out to buy some icing sugar. 

 

Truth was, he was making a special birthday cake for Blitzo; his ex-cellmate turned boss; and his first friend. 

 

He'd been doodling plans for the design for a while now, hiding them whenever Blitzo got too close. 

 

He baked the cake the night before when Blitzo fell asleep. (Seeing as his boss slept on the sofa, this had been tremendously nerve-straining. Fortunately, Loona had, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to help Moxxie tire Blitzo out enough.) 

 

In fact, she was the one who had sent him the VoxTube video he was using to bake the cake, earlier in the week. He hadn't found out why she decided to help him, for once, but he appreciated the gesture, regardless. 

 

…

 

Moxxie whipped up a bowl of buttercream icing, which he carefully spread over the vanilla sponge. Whilst the icing was setting, he prepared a smaller bowl of royal icing for writing with; as well as some black icing for the "mane" features. 

 

Soon, wielding a piping bag with the same ease he would wield an assault rifle, Moxxie delightedly set to work, savouring the sweet aromas of vanilla and buttercream. 

 

Drifting through the kitchen, mingling with Moxxie's senses alongside the pleasing aromas, was the voice of Julienne Drizzle, who was well known on VoxTube and Sinstagram for her baking skills. 

 

According to Loona, Julienne had amassed a fanbase of 500,0000k followers, and was only 24 years old. (She was, surprisingly, an aro-ace Succubus, and because she didn't enjoy sex, at all, she focused on her baking skills; which accumulated a massive following both in Hell and on Earth).

 

Not to mention she had just released her first recipe book a few days ago. Loona had bought one; well, she bought two, claiming it an accidnt, and chucked it at Moxxie, figuring that was "easier than trying to get a fucking refund." 

 

That book was pretty useful; though Moxxie liked hearing Julienne; for a demon, she seemed kind, if a little pretentious at times. 

 

He could almost imagine baking with his mother 

 

…

 

Once that was done, he used the royal icing to write several phrases in beautiful red loopy cursive; which he had been practising on store bought cupcakes, icing various random letters. 

 

It had been a bit costly; but it would be worth it to see Blitzo's face. Besides, Moxxie and Loona had scoffed the cupcake after he was done, over cups of coffee. 

 

"Excellent work Knolastname, if I do say so myself." Moxxie grinned with a smug satisfaction. He debated texting Loona to tell her things were ready; but decided against it, in case Blitzo somehow caught a whiff of the plan (as fond as Moxxie was of his boss; Blitzo had the unfortunate habit of being an annoying, nosy bastard. Not to mention an attention whore).   

 

Moxxie just rolled his eyes, and piped the finishing touches on the cake; before allowing himself a huge smile as he gave one last squeeze of the piping bag.  

 

"This looks pretty good!" Moxxie clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, crumbs, I can't wait for Blitzo to get home and see this!" 

 

"You sissy piece of shit!" His father's voice suddenly echoed in his head, and Moxxie started, feeling dread clench his heart in an all-too-familiar vice. 

 

"Do you really think your boss is going to like this gay horse shit!?" 

 

"Shut up, Sir, you have no hold o-over me." Moxxxie tried to tell himself, cursing when he realised he had said 'sir', thus, giving Crimson power that he didn't deserve. 

 

"Don't come crying to me if he tells you you're just a sissy who likes cooking and baking like some housewife!" 

 

Moxxie clenched his hands into fists, trembling with anger. He blinked at the innocuous cake, tears in his eyes, and was about to smash the damned thing to a mash of icing and sponge with his balled up fists, when Blitzo called out, 

 

"Hiya, Mox! Your ass feelin' any better yet?"

 

Moxxie jumped a foot in the air, as Blitzo swept into the kitchen - and did a double take. 

 

"I thought you were asleep, bitch!" He huffed angrily. "I even went to the drug store for some prescription shit!" He dumped a white bag on the counter.  

 

"Sorry, Sir - Blitzo." Moxxie said quietly, trying to cover the cake so that his boss - hopefully - didn't see it, but, unfortunately for him, Blitzo quickly grew suspicious. 

 

"Whatcha hidin', Mox? Some dwarf whore or something?" Blitzo asked, half-teasingly. 

 

Not even Loona's eventual entrance was enough to save the weapons specialist from his boss's questions. In fact, Loona seemed to relish Moxxie's discomfort a bit too much.

 

"Sir, please!" Moxxie squeaked in protest. "Why can't you just -" 

 

Blitzo caught sight of something white and yellow behind Moxxie - "Mox, seriously, stop being an asshole." He huffed, annoyed. 

 

Moxxie cringed, and finally stepped away to reveal the cake he'd been working for so long on. 

 

It was a rectangular cake, decorated with buttercream icing. The words; 

'Saddle up, Partner!' and 'Happy Birthday, Blitzo!' in a blood-red, loopy, sugary cursive, ran along the top and bottom of the cake, respectively. 

 

In the centre was a beautifully iced black horse, and the corners each had little fondant decorations - two corners had silver-grey horseshoes, and the other two blazing guns, including little red and yellow 'sparks' made of icing. 

 

Blitzo's jaw dropped in surprise, and he looked at his friend, who was nervously rubbing his arm. 

 

"I - I hope it's not too -" he couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't bear to recall what the voice in his head told him. 

"Bitch, ya better not finish thay sentence or I'll fuck you, then fire you. Or maybe the other way around, I'll work on the details later." Blitzo said, grinning. 

"Asshole," Moxxie said, quietly, a small smile ghosting his lips. 

"Baby dick," Blitzo retorted, sticking his tongue out at Moxxie before turning his attention back to the cake. "Seriously, Mox, this cake is a fucking masterpiece." He grinned. 

"Thank you…" Moxxie said gratefully, before his cheeks flushed bright pink. "I hope it tastes good as well." He added quietly. 

It was then that the big pile of dishes was spotted in the sink; along with a dusting of icing sugar and little dots of red icing sprinkled on the counter. 

"I… I didn't quite get the time to tidy up before you came home… Sorry…" he felt a slight, involuntary tremble seize his body and he began panicking, thinking his boss would be angry with him for not taking care of the kitchen, or the dishes. 

Memories of his father striking him upside the head for not tidying away his supper plate and cutlery haunted his memory. To this day, Moxxie hated leaving dirty dishes around in case he was yelled at for it; or worse, hit. 

...

Loona noticed his reaction and shrugged, to silently tell him that it was no big deal. But, Moxxie didn't catch on to this. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever... " Blitzo answered dismissively, waving his hand feebly towards the dishes as if halfheartedly chasing away a particularly annoying insect.

His attention was on the cake, surveying every inch of detail, lovingly piped onto  sponge. "You… you made this, for me?" Blitzo asked Moxxie, sounding genuinely shocked, and just a little bit touched. "How? And why?" 

"Had a bit of help from VoxTube," Moxxie admitted sheepishly, giving a brief nod of acknowledgement to Loona. "I just... worked from that... as for why, well, I wanted to do something nice for you, for your birthday..." 

"I gotta say, buddy, you're a mother fucking talented little bitch, ain't ya?" Blitzo said, his tone sincere. Moxxie blinked in surprise. 

"I…" Moxxie was at a loss for words. He hadn't expected Blitzo to love the cake so much; but, then again, hearing his dad's voice in his head didn't help him or his self-confidence. 

To his surprise, Blitzo grabbed Moxxie and pulled him in for a powerful hug. 

"Thanks, Mox," he whispered into his employee's hair, squeezing him as tightly as he could without crushing Moxxie's ribs. "This means a lot." 

Moxxie snuggled into Blitzo, relishing the hug, his own arms snaking around his friend to return the gesture. . "You're welcome, Blitzo." He whispered. "Happy birthday," 

"Gotta say, even I'm impressed, fatty." Loona's nonchalant voice broke the silence, and the two imps quickly disengaged from their embrace. 

"I'm not fat, Loona," Moxxie groaned. 

"Not yet you're not, bitch!" Blitzo said playfully, grabbing Moxxie's belly. Moxxie started giggling as he felt his boss's fingers tickle his stomach.

"S-sir!" He spluttered, between wheezing giggles.  

"Cmon, let's eat this badass of a cake!" Blitzo whooped, "Loona, honey, could you grab us some forks?" 

"Hell yeah, it smells good." Loona complimented. For Moxxie, this was a big deal; as he rarely ever got compliments from Loona. 

But what became a bigger compliment yet was she gave a very, very brief smile at Moxxie; a thank you, for making Blitzo so happy, before resuming her usual glower, as she floated past to grab plates and forks for everyone. 

...

Moxxie was on cloud nine from his success, and he was glad Blitzo appreciate his efforts, too; as Blitzo had literally helped change his life for the better; after all, they'd broken out of jail together, survived being roommates for several weeks; and have really powered I.M.P. to life these past couple of months due to teamwork. 

And, most importantly, Blitzo had been a lifeline in a dark sea of dismay; a star in the blackened skies; his kindness and eagerness to share what little he had with a stranger. 

And this was why Moxxie would faithfully, happily, stick by Blitzo, no matter what life threw their way. 

 

Chapter 3: I'm Sorry, Sir

Summary:

Moxxie apologises to his boss for his part in an argument... whilst Blitzo has locked himself in the company toilets.

Moxxie entered the bathroom of I.M.P Headquarters, and his heart squeezed in his chest when he heard soft, squeaky sobs coming from the cubicle.

Shit.

He really had fucked up this time.

Leaning against the panel between the cubicles, he allowed himself to slide down until his ass was on the floor.
Normally, he'd never do shit like this, citing germs as being the reason, but he thought sitting down was better for this situation; for it was always better to be eye to eye level with someone, even if there was a fucking door in the way.

"Sir…?"

"Shut-" shut the fuck up -" Moxxie!" A voice snapped harshly, in between watery hiccups. Any attempts to sound intimidating were instantly diminished: still, Moxxie winced, he suspected Blitzo would still be pissed at him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sir - Blitzo." He corrected himself. "Not until I've made this right."

"Moxxie, fuck off, seriously, I don't want you here right now. Just like you don't -"

"I was wrong," Moxxie interrupted hastily, his own eyes watering. Wiping them with the ball of his hand didn't do much, so he persisted, through his own swirling emotions of guilt and sorrow.

Guilt that he'd said what he'd said.

Sorrow that what he had said had broken his boss - his first and oldest friend.

"I was wrong… to have said what I said, Blitzo. I'm… I'm really, really sorry. I… I was angry, and I was hurt, and I took all that out on you."

Sniffles were all he got in response.

"You're… you're far from a shitty friend, Sir." Moxxie continued, gulping as his own hurtful words rang in his memory. "I know you do cross boundaries and annoy the shit out of me, but… oh, crumbs, Blitzo, I…" he panicked, realising his apology was starting to flounder.

Feeling tears threatening to spill from his eyes, the sharpshooter buried his face into his knees; an old defence mechanism from his day's under his abusive father's thumb, whenever he had to remain quiet as he cried.

"Just… just go, Moxxie." Blitzo replied gruffly. "You've made it quite clear you don't want me around, so don't let me stop you from leaving these fucking toilets."

…

At his boss's sorrowful words, Moxxie lifted a hand from his face, wiped it on his pant leg, and offered it to his friend via the gap at the bottom of the door.

Words were currently failing him, but physical contact - now that was different.

Moxxie held his hand under the door for what felt like five minutes; though, realistically, it couldn't have been more than a minute before Blitzo's hand took hold of Moxxie's own; enveloping it in calloused gentle fingers, before a thumb began rubbing circles into the palm of his hand.

Moxxie felt a soothing sensation flutter inside him at this reassuring gesture; before he squeezed Blitzo's fingers with great tenderness.

This was a reassuring sign; Blitzo was softening now… which meant that he might be more receptive to the idea of coming out for a hug.

"Blitzo," he added, quietly. "Would you… would you like a hug?"

Silence descended upon the two imps again; again, for no more than a minute or two before a soft scrape saw Moxxie scrambling to his feet, hastily getting his arms ready to give his friend a big hug.

The door swung open; and the sharpshooter felt his heart melt as he took in Blitzo's unkempt appearance, the tear-streaked cheeks, the puffy eyes, the snot… and the tell-tale dark patches on his sleeves.

"Come here, Blitzo." Moxxie said softly, beckoning to his friend.

Blitzo tore across the small gap between them and barreled right into Moxxie, burying his snotty, teary face into Moxxie's shoulder, strong arms flinging themselves around the smaller imp's body like he was a fucking lifeline.

"Shh, shhh," Moxxie whispered soothingly, as his friend began to cry anew. "Shh, Blitzo, it's OK, buddy, I've got you."

"Moxx-" a hoarse voice croaked.

"Hey, hey…" Moxxie crooned, a hand rubbing circles on Blitzo's back. "I know I treated you so horribly earlier, sir, but that doesn't reflect how I really feel about you." Moxxie paused for breath before continuing,

"You may be impulsive and idiotic, at the worst of times; but, you strive to make a difference - and you certainly made a difference in my life -" Moxxie squeezed Blitzo that little bit harder - "You're amazing, Blitzo. You've made a company out of very little but your own determination, and a family out of four strangers." He chuckled wryly to himself, before adding, warmly.

"Please, don't forget that, Blitzo. How… brilliant a light you cast when you're not being a total ass. And i shouldn't be thinking that, i should be "

"... fuck, you're better at apologising than me." Blitzo sniffled into the fabric of Moxxie's clothes. "Sorry I've got your suit all snotty and shit." He gave Moxxie a watery smile.

"Sir, I don't give a fuck. Well, not right now, anyway." Moxxie replied - in response, Blitzo's fingers were tickling his sides.

"Going into bitch mode in T-minus 10, 9, 8-"

"You asshole!" Moxxie laughed. Blitzo chuckled too, before stopping the tickling to give his companion a noogie between the horns instead.

"Thanks, Moxx," Blitzo said, hoarsely. "That… that means a lot."

"You're welcome. And…"

"Apology accepted, by the way, baby dick," Blitzo added, affectionately, before giving Moxxie another hug, nuzzling into his cheek as he did so.

This time, a throaty, rumbly purr, albeit a slightly hoarse one, escaped his throat. Moxxie didn't comment; he just gave his boss another hug.

"Mox?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I'm sorry too, for -"

"Forgiven and forgotten, Sir." Moxxie said reassuringly. "Friends again?"

"Fuck yes." Blitzo gently pulled away from his employee's embrace to look Moxxie right in the eye. "Who else am I going to laugh at when they make such douchebag orders at Hellbucks?" He winked, and Moxxie laughed.

"Come on, Sir, let's go."

"Well, suggesting we skive work… who are you and what have you done with the real Moxxie?" Blitzo asked playfully, as the two left the office and made their way downstairs to the car.

…..

A/N: maybe a tad OOC for Blitzo (?) But I imagine he feels sensitive being called a shit friend or anything like that.

I might write the argument up later, but this just came more naturally to me.

Anyway, thank you all for the kudos and bookmarks so far, and to the lovely gabcakes for the comment on the previous chapter! Much appreciated!
I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and are having a great day/night!

Chapter 4: Moxxie's Bad Morning

Summary:

In which Moxxie has a shitty morning at work and Blitzo does his best to salvage his sharpshooter's day.

Warning for implied child abuse near the end of the chapter.

Moxxie was having a SHITTY morning.

He had attempted to assist Loona in dealing with a Karen of a client, a wealthy old lady named Margaret Steele who hired I.M.P. to dispatch her nephew for poisoning her, to obtain her wealth; and in spite of her fortune, she was repeatedly refusing to pay her fee to I.M.P; calling Moxxie and Loona a bunch of horrible names when they both tried to counter this with reason (Moxxie) and threats (Loona). 

The frustration of dealing with said client had Loona being even meaner to Moxxie than usual as a result. He was several days behind on paperwork, and between trying to catch up, getting Mrs. Steele to pay; and arranging to get Blitzo's office door fixed (the idiot shouldered it open one whilst drunk. Moxxie swore the moment he mentioned his boss's name over the phone, many tradesmen hung up, causing him to curse them and Blitzo) 

Millie would normally handle DIY repairs, being the most experienced; but her father had a narrow escape with a bull and was badly injured. (Moxxie had offered to go with her for support, but Blitzo couldn't afford to go without two of his best assassins, and anyway, Millie pointed out he was still alive, and this wasn't the first time anyone in her family had been injured on the ranch, so she was sure she'd be fine.) 

Unfortunately, everything shitty had to happen on the day she wasn't here. 

Moxxie felt unable to cope with the day, and had crawled under the meeting room desk to hide. 

Burying his face into his knees, Moxxie began sniffling quietly, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

He soon noticed his tail was getting awfully sore. 

Realising too late he was sitting on it, Moxxie shifted it to let it stretch out and get rid of the fucking cramp, when he suddenly heard the door open, followed by "... he's in here, Blitzo." Loona said dryly. 

Shit! 

That was the horrible thing about working with a Hellhound; you got no privacy. But, Loona and Blitzo won't get that he wanted privacy right now. 

"Thanks, Loonie!" Blitzo replied warmly. "Oh, Moxxie!" He sang breezily, "Where are ya, little bitch?" 

Moxxie bit his lip as he saw his boss's black and red boots pause right in front of him. 

"Are ya sure he's - oh, you're gone, Loonie," he mumbled. "Moxxie!" He added, sounding annoyed now. "Mox! Seriously, your stupid fucking ass here right now, or else-" 

Moxxie let out an indignant squeal of pain as Blitzo inadvertently stood on his tail. 

"Oh, there you are, Mox!" Blitzo huffed, "Why are ya hiding under there?" 

Moxxie drew a shaky breath, but could not muster it in him to respond. 

"Seriously, bitch, I'm in no mood-" Blitzo was getting down on his hands and knees now - "to be dealing with your…" 

His voice trailed away, however, when he caught sight of his teary, shaking employee. 

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Sir." Moxxie sniffled. "I'm just…" 

"... are… are you coming out?" 

Moxxie was surprised to note that the anger had gone from his boss's voice, and was replaced with concern. 

"I… I'm not ready yet, Sir." Moxxie answered meekly. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, Sir, I'm having a crap morning." He mumbled into his knees. 

"Who doesn't have one of those?" Blitzo asked, genuinely sympathetic, if a bit baffled. "C'mon, Mox, you can tell me, can't ya?" 

Moxxie looked at his hooves, rubbing his now-cramping legs. "I…" 

"Wait." 

Moxxie rested his cheek on his knees as he heard the sound of a pencil dance haphazardly on a piece of paper - Blitzo was drawing again. 

Moxxie was ready to rip the stupid picture out of his boss's hands and crumple it up to throw it away - how dare Blitzo draw him at such a vulnerable moment!

…

 After about five minutes, the sharpshooter felt a piece of paper brush against his hand.

He looked up, to see Blitzo looking pleased with himself, and holding the folded drawing in his hand, which he was attempting to give to Moxxie. 

"Here." Blitzo offered. "Little present for ya." He let out a little purr as he said this, and Moxxie had to restrain himself from saying anything that would be regrettable later on. 

"Thank you." He replied curtly, accepting the piece of paper, before unfolding it gingerly. 

Whatever he had planned to say died on his lips as he saw what Blitzo had actually drawn. 

It was a picture of Blitzo hugging him, surrounded by a lot of love hearts. Lots of horribly spelled, but beautifully touching, words of friendship and affection emblazoned the page; words like "Best Friends", "Smart", and "Not Always Annoying" that had him tearing up again; but this time from gratitude.  

Moxxie had to resist chuckling when he saw the customary horses thrown in as well (Blitzo could not draw a damn thing without adding a horse or two somewhere) 

"Thank… thank you, Sir - um, Blitzo," Moxxie said quietly, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. He looked at his boss's smiling face and decided, perhaps, he would come out now. So, he gingerly shuffled out from under the table - and instantly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his torso, and a very long tail snake around his waist. 

He squeaked when he felt his boss lifted him from the floor - but relaxed again when Blitzo just… held him. 

This actually felt really, really nice.  

He felt Blitzo nuzzle his cheek into Moxxie's soft, white hair, gently purring.  

Moxxie felt the anxiety and stress melt away from his tired limbs, and instead he felt safe, cosy and loved; something he'd never felt being around Crimson growing up. 

Moxxie smiled to himself at how nice this hug was; before wrapping his arms around Blitzo to return the gesture; to thank him for being a port in the storm whilst he waited to find the words to express his gratitude. 

… 

"Do ya… uh, feel better, bitch?" Blitzo asked, awkwardly. 

Moxxie nodded, and he felt himself being put down again hastily. He didn't mind; he knew Blitzo could get awkward sometimes around 'mushy moments' - but he also knew Blitzo, for all his bluster and invasive ways, was never one for seeing his teammates cry. 

"Do ya… do ya need a hand at all?" Blitzo asked, in a kinder voice than Moxxie expected. "I… haven't got a lot to do and we don't have new clients today. I am speaking to one tomorrow morning though."  

"Uh…" Moxxie considered. "Do you fancy going nuclear on a Karen, Sir?" He asked meekly. 

"Always, Mox!" Blitzo said happily, slinging an arm around his sharpshooter's shoulders in a friendly gesture. "I love getting to give those Karen bitches a piece of my fucking mind!" 

"Good, because Mrs. Steele won't pay her fee - and," Moxxie paused, deciding to get his revenge on that snooty bitch once and for all. "She was…" He sniffled a little,"she was being ever so rude to Loona and I on the phone earlier." 

"Say no more, Mox!" Blitzo's face was a dark red hue of fury at the thought of "some above it all ****" insulting HIS family. 

"Give me that whore's phone number, and I'll sort this shit out once and for all!" 

Moxxie happily complied, watched Blitzo dial the number and fought to hide his laughter as Blitzo let rip into this woman. 

Loona sauntered back through with some coffee - three cups, surprisingly. 

"Here, thought you'd need this." She said gruffly, sliding him his purple coffee mug. It was the closest Moxxie would get to an apology from his normally aloof colleague, and he decided to roll with it. 

"He's really pissed, isn't he?" She remarked dryly, taking a sip of her own coffee. 

Moxxie nodded. "I told him how she spoke to us on the phone." He admitted. "I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, and Blitzo is the only one who can deliver. Not that you didn't try." He added hastily. 

"It was the derogatory way she spoke to me that got to me." Loona admitted sheepishly. "I..." 

Moxxie cautiously but gently patted her wrist as an attempt at comfort. 

"Nice job setting Blitzo on her." Loona grinned. "I was considering doing the same myself. But, you're better at putting on puppy dog eyes and acting like the boss's hurt little bitch, fatty…" 

Moxxie growled, but wisely decided not to make a fool of himself with his own pathetic retorts. 

Besides, after a particularly harrowing incident with his dad, Moxxie had learned the hard way never to argue with someone holding steaming hot coffee. 

"Seeing as Millie isn't here for a couple days," Moxxie said, trying to distract himself from that depressing thought. "I thought I'd attempt to make Passiona cakes on my new piemaker. Are you interested?" 

"What is it?" Loona asked. 

"Passionfruit and vanilla." Moxxie answered. 

Loona shrugged. "Could be OK." 

"Millie isn't a fan of passionfruit, so she won't miss out." Moxxie added. "I'll make them tonight." 

"What was that, Mox?" Blitzo asked, who had hung up the phone. 

"Moxxie's planning on baking again." Loona said. 

Blitzo nodded. 

"Wait, can you even eat passionfruit?" Moxxie asked Loona in confusion. "I thought…" 

"Bitch, I'm sure ordinary dogs wouldn't smoke or drink, or eat chocolate. And I've eaten avocado without reacting." 

"Sweetie, you had a bad case of food poisoning, remember?" 

"It was one fucking time, Blitzo!" Snapped Loona. She blinked in surprise when she realised he wasn't on the phone anymore. 

"And that cookie incident?" Moxxie raised an eyebrow. "For the last time, it wasn't the fucking cookie, fatty!" Loona snapped, shifting her attention back to Moxxie. "Well, good news, guys, we've been paid!" Blitzo whooped. "That old hag finally coughed up her fucking fee!" Moxxie felt relieved that the ridiculous saga was over; flashing a grateful smile at his friend, he sauntered over to finish his paperwork; half-drunk coffee in hand. He smiled to himself as Blitzo crowed all the way back to his office, and Loona stomped to her desk. He still missed Millie a lot, but it was nice things weren't too different in her absence.

Chapter 5: Safe At Last

Summary:

During his first night of freedom, Moxxie reflects on his connection with the strange imp he had broken out of jail with, and swears a lifelong bond of friendship to him. 

All while Blitzo is snoring on the floor in horse pyjamas. 

Moxxie opened his eyes with a yawn and a stretch - before he realised he was covered by a blanket he didn't recognise, on a couch he also didn't recognise. 

It took him a moment to register the day's events, and he relaxed on realising that he was at Blitzo's apartment. 

"Phew," Moxxie whispered to himself, relieved. "I'm safe… Safe from him." 

…

"Sorry, I know it's not much, Mox, but it's home," Blitzo said sheepishly, as he opened the door. 

Moxxie had never felt so safe, or so welcome anywhere before.  

Blitzo had scuttled in ahead of him and was attempting to chuck some newspapers in a pile on the floor next to the sofa. "I really, really don't have much, but…" 

'This means so much,' Moxxie had thought, tears welling in his eyes. 

Kindness had been hard to find in his life since his mother's death, and he was so grateful he had been thrown in prison with this strange but kind imp; who was willing to share what little he had in this world to bring comfort to a stranger he had broken out of jail with. 

"Loonie! I'm home, sweetie!" Blitzo called, and; much to Moxxie's surprise,  a large grey and white Hellhound with glowing red eyes stomped out of a taped off door, and she glared at the two imps. 

"Where the hell have you been?" She asked crossly. 

"Jail. In Greed." Blitzo said sheepishly. "Sorry I didn't call ya, sweetie, wasn't behind bars long enough to utilise my phone call privilege." 

Blitzo turned to Moxxie. "Mox, this is my daughter, Loona. Loona, dear, this is Moxxie, my break-out buddy." 

It felt nice, Moxxie mused, being called buddy, even if Blitzo was being casual about its meaning. 

Loona rolled her eyes. "Dumbass. What's for dinner?" 

"Would pizza do?" Blitzo asked. "Can't be assed with much else, and it'll help feed this guy too." 

Loona looked pissed at hearing Moxxie was staying; but reluctantly nodded. 

"Fine." 

"Cool." Blitzo gave his daughter a thumbs up, before cooing. "Did ya miss your old man, Loonie Toonie?" 

Moxxie knew then for sure he'd made the right choice to trust Blitzo. 

… 

Moxxie smiled at the memory, as well as the fact that Blitzo had literally sacrificed his sleeping space for him, a mere stranger. 

… wait, where was Blitzo? 

Dread seized his heart in a cold, slimy grip, and he had to fight the bile rising in his throat. 

… of course, as he tried to count backwards from ten in Yiddish, he realised he was overreacting, just a tad. 

His father was miles away, in Greed, undoubtedly giving zero fucks to his own son's situation - or maybe he was pissed he'd lost his punching bag/puppet… probably a mix of bith, to be honest. 

Shit, the fear of something terrible happening to Blitzo because of him would not leave him in peace. 

Swearing to himself, Moxxie flung back the blanket, realising something lumpy was resting on his hip, nearest the back of the sofa. On shifting aside the lump, Moxxie vaguely recognised it as 'Spirit Jr' the name of Blitzo's stuffed toy horse. 

'Such a simple thing to own, and yet a meaningful treasure.' Moxxie reflected mournfully. He had owned a Teddy bear in his childhood - a gift from his beloved Mama - but his father had taken it away and insisted Moxxie use it for target practice. 

Sick bastard. 

After Mama's death, he had often cried himself to sleep, wishing he had never had to shoot that Teddy. 

Shaking his memories aside, lest he start crying again, (and he had to check his friend was still alive) Moxxie dropped the horse plush and swung his feet over the bed. 

His hooves brushed bare flesh at his feet, and he instantly recoiled. 

Was… was he too late? 

A grunt, followed by a loud snore, settled Moxxie's fears, relieved that Blitzo hadn't been murdered for showing him kindness. 

Curiously, he peeked over the edge of the sofa; his new friend was curled up on the floor, wearing horse-themed pyjamas, and his tattered coat was draped over his lanky frame as a makeshift blanket. 

Moxxie smiled affectionately at this strange man; who looked so peaceful and quiet in slumber. He looked a far cry from the loud, rambunctious man he'd escaped prison with.

Gently, Moxxie reached for Blitzo's shoulder, his small, slender fingers clasping around his companion's shoulder bone. 

"Thank you, Blitzo," Moxxie whispered, "for… for taking me in and giving me a place to sleep. You've shown me the most kindness since…"

Mama's smile, warm and kind, flashed through his memory, and he choked back a sob. 

'I miss you, Mama…' 

What he wouldn't give for one of her loving hugs right now! 

"I can never repay the sincerity and generosity you have shown me; by opening your heart to someone like me, sharing what little you have with me, sacrificing your own bed so I'd have somewhere to sleep…"  

As Crimson's face morphed in his memory once more, lips curled in hatred and displeasure; Moxxie bit his lip, and tried to stop himself from trembling. 

"I give you my loyalty, and my friendship." He said, pushing away the ghastly image to focus on his sleeping friend, "I'll lay my life down for you, Blitzo; especially if that bastard I'm forced to call my father threatens your life… just because you decided to bring light to my own." 

He finished this sentiment with a squeeze to Blitzo's shoulder gratefully, and whispered words of friendship in Yiddish, which were;

"Falen falt men

alain ober

oiftsuhaiben zikh 

darf men a hant

fun a freind."

It translated to "To fall down, you manage alone, but it takes friendly hands to get up." And Moxxie could think of fewer words that summed his new friend up better.  

Just before he fell asleep again, he carefully adjusted both himself and the blanket so he could share the blanket with Blitzo without sacrificing his own warmth. 

… 

Moxxie was true to his word in the day's thereafter; he remained loyal and true to a fault; no matter what shit he was put through by his friend turned employer.

This was because, to Moxxie, loyalty to your family was the number one priority.  

And, by remembering his Mama's sweet, loving smile; and Blitzo's unconditional acceptance into his home and his life, Moxxie started to heal, somewhat. 

He got a job at Blitzo's new business, Immediate Murder Professionals (I.M.P); he'd found a musical theatre group nearby to attend, and made new friends there; and, best of all, Moxxie unexpectedly found his one true love in a Wrathian country girl, named Millie, who became his wife. 

All that Moxxie had left to wish for now was to hopefully face his bastard father one day, on his day of reckoning; and finally deliver justice for his sweet Mama. 

Chapter 6: Rooftop Talks

Summary:

Set after Unhappy Campers. Moxxie finds his boss on the roof, and the pair have a heart to heart. Sort of.

Blitzo heard hoofsteps across the roof, and he lifted his head from between his knees.  

A silhouetted figure, wrapped in a blanket, and with very familiar horns crowning his head - for Blitzo could just about see that it was a 'he'.

"The fuck are ya doing out here, Mox?" He asked crossly, his hands on his hips.  

"I could ask the same of you, Sir," Moxxie replied dryly, wrapping his Phantom of the Opera blanket tighter around his skinny, pyjama clad frame. "You're the one on my roof again. And for once, you're not spying on me or my missus." 

Blitzo said nothing; he just pulled his faithful percussion pistol out of his pocket and carelessly toyed with it; twirling it between his fingers. 

Moxxie watched nervously, knowing too well that Blitzo was likely to accidentally fire the trigger if he wasn't careful (his boss was almost as good a crack shot as him, but way more lax on gun safety.) 

"Sir," the smaller imp said quietly, hoping to get his friend's attention and persuade Blitzo to be more careful. 

"What?" Blitzo asked, clearly irritated. "If you're here to annoy me, Mox, do me a favour and piss off, you stupid little bitch. Go get your ass pegged or something." 

"Unless you're volunteering, Sir - Satan forbid that you actually are - I highly doubt I'll get pegged at three in the morning." A bemused eyebrow was halfway up Moxxie's forehead now. He took a step closer; then another. 

Blitzo flipped his friend the bird, and resumed his sulking.  

Moxxie was displeased at being given the bird, and was about to give him yet another lecture on manners, when a shiver rippled across the body of the taller imp.   

"Are you cold, Sir?" Moxxie asked, his irritation wielding to concern. Though the answer was fairly obvious to him, knowing his boss, Blitzo would lie, or at least downplay his discomfort. 

"Nooo," Blitzo replied, sounding like a sulky child. 

Moxxie just folded his arms, his irritation rising once again. 

"Blitzo." He said sternly. "There is no need to lie about something so blatantly obvious." 

"I'm fucking fine, bitch. No need to worry your stupid little baby dick about me." Blitzo replied gruffly, hooking his arms around his knees. "I don't need you, asshole, I don't need Mills, I don't-" 

That hurt, but Moxxie was quick to recognise it as bullshit, seeing as Blitzo was on the roof of their apartment. Besides, Blitzo attempted to act arrogant and aloof when he was clearly fucking hurting. Not to mention being a venomous bastard when he wanted to. 

Though Moxxie could acknowledge he let a lot of his issues interfere with another job, one he couldn't even finish off himself; it still hurt to be called a "fucking disgrace" by his boss. 

Man, did Daddy Issues suck ass. He thought Blitzo would've been a bit more understanding seeing as they'd encountered Mr. Knolastname Sr. no more than four months ago. 

Still, Moxxie could tell his employer was still hurting from being rejected by his sister; he had a sneaking suspicion that Loona and Barbie Wire were the only 'official' members of family that Blitzo had left in the world; and that was why he wanted to reconcile with his twin. 

Plus, between the aforementioned encounter with Crimson, which nearly saw Moxxie being sucked back into his father's abusive clutches; and Blitzo facing losing Stolas not once, but twice; first to their relationship issues, then to Striker's Divine Knife; seemed to have reminded Blitzo that, even now, his relationships were fragile and could turn to smoke in a moment's notice; and had perhaps wanted to try and reconcile with Barbie for that reason. 

… or at least, that was what Moxxie was deducing. After all, he may have done a shit job investigating at Camp Ivannokumore, but he wasn't so shit that he couldn't make a deduction or two. 

He made a decision; and strode over to his boss without hesitation; feeling relieved that the golden pistol was now glittering on the ground beside his boss. 

Blitzo knew what was coming; and didn't bother resisting when Moxxie sat down beside him, before wrapping the blanket around the taller imp's shoulders, the pair now sharing its warmth. 

…  

Moxxie snuggled up to Blitzo; both for warmth and comfort. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened at the boathouse, Blitzo?" He asked, compassionately. 

After all, rejection had certainly been a sore point for these two this past week; so he was feeling sympathetic. 

Blitzo shook his head, his eyes suddenly smarting. 

Fuck. 

"That's fine," Moxxie began rubbing gentle circles on his boss's back, just below the spikes. 

"Why are you here, Mox? Can't ya see I wanna be left alone?" Blitzo asked harshly. 

"Considering, Sir, you are on the roof of my apartment, and that I was awoken by a text from my nosy neighbour that my very nosy boss is clambering about the building again, like the lunatic acrobat he is, then no, your desire to be alone is far from obvious." Moxxie retorted dryly. 

Despite Moxxie being a smartass - again - Blitzo felt oddly comforted by the fact that he was continuing to rub his back. 

Still, Blitzo felt pissed off. Too pissed off to purr like he usually would. 

"Fuck you, Mox." Blitzo sniffed. 

"I really had hoped…" he mumbled, feeling like he was about to start crying. 

Fuck. 

He didn't want to cry - especially not in front of Moxxie… but, he couldn't help sniffling all the same...

"Sir…?" 

A sniff, followed by a poorly concealed snort. 

"If you want to have a good cry…" Moxxie said, softly, "I have a free shoulder…" 

Blitzo sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he regarded his friend's kind smile; those compassionate eyes; the tender tone… 

He didn't deserve any of it… far from it. He'd fucked up again, ruined another life… possibly estranged his sister forever. 

But, damn, Mox was being such a sweetheart… and, whether he deserved it or not, his body was crying out for comfort, for the comfort of a loved one to just… take care of him, tell him that things will be OK one day… 

And he saw Moxxie as the irritatingly cute little brother he never had - and didn't deserve… 

With more sniffles, he nestled into his sharpshooter's shoulder, seeking reassurance from Moxxie's warmth and presence. 

….

Moxxie, for his part, began rubbing along the curve Blitzo's horns, humming the tune of an old Wrathian lullaby he vaguely remembered from his mother, one sung before her untimely death.

He felt his friend relax, and slump against him; which made him smile a little, despite the tragic circumstances. 

And, he could hear the faint rumbles of a purr; which lifted a burden from his own heart.  

"I know things look abysmal, Sir - Blitzo," he corrected, hastily. "But just because things look bad now doesn't mean that there isn't hope down the line." He said. 

"Mox, this shit goes way beyond -" Blitzo caught himself, seeing Moxxie's curiosity. "Ya know what, I've said too much, never mind." He mumbled. 

"Sir -" 

"Mox, stop, OK? This is my shit, and I-" 

"My feet are getting cold, so I'm going back in now. Do you want to… come in?" Moxxie offered. "I'll make us some hot cocoa, and I might have some homemade chocolate chip and cinnamon cookies on standby." He smiled, giving Blitzo a wink. 

"Besides," he added, quietly. "We don't need to talk about the boathouse, or anything related to that, if you don't want to. We can just talk about work, or horses, if you want." He said, hopefully. 

"Are ya sure, Mox?" Blitzo asked, quietly. Moxxie felt his heartstrings twist in knots for his boss. 

"It'll be no imposition on me, Sir." Moxxie replied politely, rising to his feet and offering his hand to Blitzo. "You've helped me when I was at the lowest point in my life, Blitzo. This is the least I can do." 

"But -" 

"You can stay tonight, too," Moxxie interrupted. "And I'll feed you breakfast in the morning, as usual." He gave his friend a wry smile; one which Blitzo found difficult not to return. 

"Deal." Blitzo said, and grabbed his employee's hand, scrambled up to his feet; before suddenly pulling Moxxie in for a hug. 

Muffled by Blitzo's suit covering his mouth, and taken aback by the sudden hug, Moxxie still managed to squeak out a "Sir-?" 

"Thanks, Mox. You're fucking useless as an investigator, but as a friend, you're fucking invaluable." Blitzo murmured, nuzzling Moxxie's hair with his cheek. 

Moxxie was unable to return the embrace, as Blitzo had pinned his arms down - the man could give hugs when he wanted to - but he did manage to give his companion an awkward but gentle pat on the back. 

…

"Now, come on, Sir, that hot cocoa sounds good right about now." Moxxie said gently, as they disengaged from their hug. 

"Yeah, I'm so joining ya, bitch," Blitzo replied, letting out a small shiver. It wasn't as bad out here as they had endured on some of their missions; but for Hell, this was a bit nippy. 

Taking Blitzo's hand in his own, Moxxie gave it a kind squeeze; one which Blitzo returned in kind. 

And so, the two friends walked across the roof in silence, hand in hand, towards the bedroom window.

 

Notes:

Hope you guys enjoyed this little fluff piece! 

Chapter 7: Shitty Taste in Music

Summary:

Blitzo and Moxxie have a chat about their friendship after their drug trip, and make plans to see a play together ^^ 

"So, how many lies have you told me, Sir?" Moxxie asked boldly.

"Shit, Mox, I don't have time for this!" Blitzo waved a hand dismissively towards the general direction of the door. "Now, fuck off."

"Are you lying about being busy?" Moxxie challenged. "Seeing as you're neither occupied with paperwork, the phone, or a client." Hw crossed his arms, impatiently tapping a hoof on the carpet.

Blitzo scowled at his employee, and snapped his fingers. "Out, bitch." He snapped. "I've got better things than stare at your -"

"Blitzo."

It was the unexpected sterling's in the sharpshooter's voice that caught Blitzo off guard, and he blinked at Moxxie.

Blitzo, however, was determined not to be intimidated by his weakest employee. He stood up and wove round his desk to stand over Moxxie.

Moxxie, however, just squared up to his boss all the more - the baby-dicked little shit he was! Blitzo thought indignantly.

"Blitzo, is it that hard for you to tell me the truth?" Moxxie asked.

"I dunno why you care so much, bitch, we went over this after our little 'trip.'" Blitzo snapped back, using his fingers to make quotation marks when he said 'trip'. "We've had our sappy heart to heart shit, can we just -?"

"How would you feel if I lied to you about something and you wondered what else I might have lied about?" Moxxie asked, tears of - frustration, anger? - in his eyes. "Blitzo, you only admitted lying to me under the truth serum, which means you had intention of fucking telling me anything."

Moxxie blinked briefly in surprise at the swear, but quickly collected himself before Blitzo could exploit this chink in the chain mail, so to speak.

"Surely I didn't lie that much." Blitzo said, genuinely concerned about the tears, but frustrated at Moxxie for blaming him for them - and for whatever he was going through right now.

"Well?"

"OK, there was one of two dishes you made and brought in that I didn't like." Blitzo admitted sheepishly. "I didn't want to tell ya, though."

"Then, there was that time you lied about remembering my birthday." Moxxie snapped.

That was a low blow; that had been a genuine mistake, not that he had any excuse for it. After all, he only had three employee birthdays to remember, and he thought maybe surprising them with cake and a card would be nice, for team morale.

The one problem with this was that he brought cake and a card for Moxxie a week after his actual birthday.

(He had hastily organised a little dinner date for M&M and tickets to see 'The Phantom of the Paradise' as a birthday gift/apology/bribe to not leave the company.)

Blitzo felt his face flush and he felt pissed off - both at himself and Moxxie.

"OK, I can't counter the birthday one." Blitzo said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his now- sweaty neck. He grimaced, wiping his hand on his trousers.

"At least you did endeavour to show you were sorry," Moxxie replied. "But still, you just seem to hurt me all the time -"

"Don't ya think I don't know that!?" Blitzo snapped, banging his fist on his desk; he felt guilt scatter across his soul like spilled marbles when Moxxie flinched, as if he was expecting to be beaten.

"Mox…"

"Yes, Sir?" Composure was regained, as was the formality. Blitzo sighed. He really thought they'd made progress when they'd been kidnapped and drugged.

"You were right, I have been a lying dick to ya. I lied about that fucking musical because I saw your stupid face light up when I said I'd go - I couldn't bear being the one to… I dunno, you losing that light in your eyes…"

He sighed. "Same with the dishes I mentioned earlier. I didn't… look, when we first met, you could barely look me in the eye or speak any louder than a fucking mutter - but, but you've shown signs of improvement, even if you maybe don't think you see it. Ya can cook, sing, ya can play the guitar, ya married a badass assassin and -"

"I wouldn't have thought any of that possible when I broke out of jail." Moxxie admitted.

"Yeah…" Blitzo nodded. "It felt… good, seeing ya improve even as early as the days when ya lived with me and Loonie for a time. I'm…" here, Blitzo paused, mournfully.

"... I'm usually either getting emotionally destroyed by my relationships or destroying them before they can destroy me. Seeing ya - seeing ya grow - it was kinda nice to think I played a part in helping ya - even if it was just making sure ya had a roof over your fucking head, or food in ya."

Moxxie nodded. "For the record, Sir - Blitzo " he said quietly. "That is why I haven't left your employment."

Blitzo blinked.

"Without you, I'd be dead, still in jail, or -" Moxxie shuddered, the last option remaining silent in the air between them. "I thought that was the end of the line for me. But you… you… showed me that an end must have a beginning too." He smiled affectionately. "I know you and I have many, many disagreements, Blitzo, but I know you're a good man, even if you don't think so." His soft smile took a determination that Blitzo had seen in the field, or defending Millie.

"Ya… ya mean that?" Blitzo asked sheepishly.

"Of course," Moxxie hesitated for a second, before placing a hand on his boss's arm.

This was a surprise and a half - Moxxie rarely initiated affection with anyone that wasn't Millie.

A loud purr rumbled from Blitzo's throat then, and Moxxie chuckled.

"This is nice."

"Yeah, it sure is." Blitzo replied softly. He smiled at Moxxie, before adding quietly. "Look, I'm sorry for lying to ya so much. I… I never intended to hurt ya like this, I just thought I was sparing your feelings this way." He muttered sheepishly.

"Well, it's nice knowing you were going out of your way to not be a dick to me." Moxxie said reassuringly. "So, no hard feelings, Sir."

"Mox-"

"Sorry, Blitzo." Moxxie corrected sheepishly.

"I don't mind you calling me 'Sir', Mox, but we've known each other for ages - well before I even fucking got I.M.P. off the ground." Blitzo said, a little hurt.

"Sorry, Blitzo. I do genuinely respect you enough to warrant you the title of Sir - but it's also just a habit." Moxxie replied sheepishly.

"Mills handles it fine." Blitzo said, a bit put out. Seeing Moxxie scowl at him, though, had him backpedal a bit.

"Sorry, I get it, it's habit."

"If it makes you feel better, Blitzo, I'll try to address you by name more." Moxxie said gently. "I do value you as more than my boss."

"Good," Blitzo replied curtly. Then, in a softer tone, "Shit, things really have gotten rotten between us, huh?"

"Yeah." Moxxie replied. "You were much easier to talk to, before."

Blitzo huffed. "Look, bitch, I have an idea on why things haven't been so fucking smooth before now. Whilst I am hard on ya cos I want to see ya say 'fuck it's and just do your job, and not give a fuck on what others think. You do much better when you're not thinking about others think of ya."

Moxxie was surprised at this heartfelt admission; it wasn't often Blitzo complimented him.

"Do you mean that, Sir?" He ventured, daring to look his boss in the eye.

"Course, bitch. Just cos I don't often compliment ya doesn't mean I don't notice what you and Mills do, on and off the field."

He allowed a wry smile to break out, and Moxxie gave him a small, grateful smile back.

"So, maybe we could hang out sometime?" Blitzo offered, hopefully. "Maybe get drinks or something?"

"I have a small proposition for you, Sir, in that regard." Moxxie replied, a glint in his eye that caught Blitzo by surprise. "I was speaking with my friends from my musical theatre group before this job, and Randall said he and his girlfriend, Christine, watched this play called War Horse. I thought, Sir… you might be interested."

Blitzo did look intrigued. "...is it actually about horses?"

"It is about a horse." Moxxie replied. "Randall tells me there's a life-sized puppet of a horse used in the play."

"It sounds…" but Blitzo shook his head. "Nah, you'd probably want to go with Mills." He said quietly.

"Actually, she's meeting with her mom for some quality time this weekend." Moxxie replied. "And anyway, it's not often we get to spend time together anymore. What do you say, just you and me?" He asked.

A huge, heartfelt grin broke out over Blitzo's face. "Bitch, I'm in!" He exclaimed, giving Moxxie a playful punch on the shoulder.

"We could maybe grab some dinner and drinks before," Moxxie added.

"Deal." Blitzo said. "Holy fuck, Mox, I didn't think I'd be so excited to go back to a theater!"

Moxxie smiled, before shyly looping an arm around his oldest friend.

"We'll make the arrangements at once Sir." He said with an excited grin.

Blitzo just purred in reply, making Moxxie's heart soften.

Chapter 8: Company of the Most Unconventional Kind

Summary:

This was written on the fly. Moxxie's first breakup was shittier than most - but at least his new friend is one for tradition. 

Or, the boys eat ice cream and watch Spirit after their jail break. 

Fluff abound, yet again! 

It had been a long forty-eight hours. 

In that time alone, Moxxie had: seen his relationship with Chaz be effectively destroyed; had been arrested for the bank heist he and Chaz had committed together; had spent a short amount of time in jail; and, the best thing to have happened to him so far, he had made a friend out of it. 

He did manage to fit in some sleep, somehow; but seeing as his friend and temporary host had given up his sofa for him, he wasn't sure if Blitzo had gotten any sleep. 

Blitzo was a strange guy - loud talking, energetic (as in, he could be bouncing off the walls, even at his age) and was capable of kindness and cruelty, happiness and anger, of generosity and selfishness, in the same breath if he so desired. 

He was also bloodthirsty, and a tad perverted, as well; but, in all, he seemed like a harmless guy who loved his daughter and was aspiring to run an assassin for hire business. 

…

Moxxie wouldn't have minded some of Blitzo's energy for himself; ever since their escape, he had felt lethargic and barely left Blitzo's sofa; save to use the bathroom. 

"Hey, Mox?" Blitzo asked. 

"Yes, Blitzo?" Moxxie asked listlessly, slumping on his companion's sofa. His yellow eyes flicked from the window above the TV to meet Blitzo's eyes (albeit briefly, Moxxie hadn't gotten used to making eye contact and not getting beaten up for it. 

"Hey, I was gonna nip out and run some errands, wanna come with?"  

"No thanks, Blitzo." Moxxie sighed, gazing out of the window again.

Blitzo huffed. He'd been trying to get Moxxie to come out with him, if only for a little bit, so he could show the little fella around Pride, get him familiar with the area. 

"Hey, c'mon, bitch, thought we could do a little drive around, see the sights, ya know?" He said. 

Moxxie just shrugged. 

"What's up with ya, anyway? You've been acting off since we got out of prison - Hell, before then, even." 

"It- it's nothing to concern yourself about, Blitzo. I'm just melancholy."

"Melanc-Holy my ass!" Blitzo snapped. "C'mon, Mox, what's up with ya? Didn't think you'd be so -" 

"Lazy? Is that what you're about to say?" Moxxie asked, a sudden steely tone in his voice that took even Blitzo by surprise. 

"Whoa, easy, I just wanted to say that you've been pretty espresso depresso since we met." He studied Moxxie's wan face, and forlorn expression. He remembered that Moxxie had barely eaten since they broke out of jail. "Ya sick or something? I could get ya to a hospital or get ya a doctor." He said, trying to be helpful. 

"Thanks, Blitzo, Sir, but it's not - it is not a sickness a doctor can cure." Moxxie replied tersely. 

It took Blitzo a minute for the truth to sink in. "Oh, shit," he said. "Shit. This is - is sounding more and more like breaking up with a shitty ex. Is that what's wrong with ya?" 

Moxxie nodded. 

Blitzo began to laugh. "Oh, thank Satan! I thought it was some real serious shit, you stupid bitch, I was all set to -" he stopped when he heard the faintest of sniffles, and then he saw the tears. 

Blitzo felt sorry for him, then. Breakups were shitty as fuck, and Moxxie was clearly processing a heap of other things atop that; like the jailbreak, and something that Blitzo suspected could be abuse, as he recognised a fee signs in his ex-ceelmate that he had seen in himself. 

"I mean, breakups are serious… in their own right." He amended, hoping to get Moxxie to stop crying. 

Moxxie looked at him then, watery eyes piercing his heart and soul. 

"R… really?" 

"Really." Blitzo confirmed. "I take it this is your first one, huh?" He folded his arms, and waited for a response. 

…

Moxxie looked at his friend. "How… how did you know?" He whispered. 

"You've got that 'end of the world as I know it, oh, woe is me' vibes going on, buddy." Blitzo said, not entirely unkindly. "Besides, the sensible thing to deal with a breakup is to cry and eat ice cream, not go to prison and meet strange perverts to become BFFs with." He winked, and wiggled his hips. 

"Sir." 

"I'm only kidding, idiot. Wouldn't actually do anything, not unless you wanted me to." 

"Well, could you stop that?" Moxxie asked, genuinely hurt and angry thay Blitzo could joke at a time like this. "Asshole." He snapped under his breath. 

Unfortunately for him, though, Blitzo heard this. 

"Bitch." Was the oh-so-witty retort. 

…

"Tell ya what, I've got ice cream in the freezer, so you can move on from your shitty ex the old fashioned way." Blitzo announced, after a beat. "And you can watch some movies with your perverted BFF, too." He winked, before crossing over to the freezer to look for whatever ice cream he had left. 

"I wish you would stop saying that." Moxxie huffed. 

"Calm your tits, Mox, I'm not so perverted I would hurt ya." Blitzo replied, crossly, poking about in the freezer. "I'm just messin'." 

He was nosing in the freezer for five minutes, grumbling and cursing for not being able to find it, when he let out a triumphant "Ah, found it!"  

He held the tub aloft. "How does Cookie Dough flavour sound to you?" Blitzo asked. 

Moxxie shrugged. 

"Oh, hang on, I've got Mint Choc Chip in here if you'd prefer that." Blitzo added, hooking the tub from the freezer drawer with his fingers. "There's plenty in here, cos I tried some and I didn't like it, and Loonie doesn't like mint." 

"I'll try that, then." Moxxie said cautiously. He watched Blitzo give him the thumbs up. 

"OK, bitch boy, mint ice cream coming up!" 

"Erm, Sir?" 

"What?" 

"What about your errands?" 

"Ah, fuck it. They can wait. This is more important." 

… 

Blitzo scooped out ice cream into two bowls; plenty of Mint Choc Chip for Moxxie and some Cookie Dough for himself (just cos he could) 

When he returned to the sofa, he gave Moxxie his bowl and settled down beside him to put a movie on. 

That was also an excellent remedy for a shitty ass breakup - especially a first one, poor bastard. 

He looked over to see Moxxie surveying his ice cream. 

"What now, bitch?" 

Seems a bit… much, Blitzo, Sir?" Micxie asked hesitantly, before heading, hastily. "Not that I'm ungrateful, of course, I just -" 

"Mox, you've had a horrible as fuck break up and you broke out of jail. Live a little." He then playfully tapped Moxxie's belly, trying to not pay attention to how his heart twisted when his fingers accidentally made contact with his friend's ribcage. "Besides, you're a skinny lil' motherfucker, ain't ya? Best to put a bit of weight on." 

Moxxie was silent for a moment before he nodded. 

"Besides, I won't be offended if you don't eat it all." Blitzo remarked, flipping through Voxflix. "You ah, got a movie ya wanna watch?" He offered, awkwardly. 

Moxxie shook his head, trying not to cry again. The only one he could think of was the bloody Titanic movie, and he knew he'd never see that again.

Blitzo bit his lip. "OK… how about we watch my favourite movie then?" He suggested. "It does have some romance in it, but it's between two horses, so…" 

Moxxie had to bite back a grin despite his horrible mood. Of course his new friend had a favourite movie about horses! The man was so horse mad it was surprisingly endearing. 

"Tick tock, Mox, or the ice cream's gonna melt." Blitzo said impatiently, twirling the remote in his hand like a fucking baton. 

"Alright, I could try it, Blitzo." Moxxie said carefully. 

"Fuck yes!" Blitzi whooped. "It's a very feel-good kinda movie, so even if it's not your scene, it might help ya a bit."

"Thanks," Moxxie smiled gratefully.

Grabbing something lumpy and yellow from the other end of the sofa, Blitzo shoved it onto Mocxie's lap. "Here, ya can borrow Spirit Jr. He's a good cuddle buddy for a breakup." He said.  

"Thanks, Sir," Moxxie replied, genuinely touched. This man was odd... but it was these odd acts that Moxxie found the kindest and most beautiful. 

But, Blitzo probably would mock him for his sentimentality, so he kept quiet. 

As Moxxie gathered the plush into his arms; holding it was actually really reassuring, his farher would never have allowed him anything like this as a child; Blitzo wrapped his horse - themed blanket around them both, and snuggled up close, putting an arm around Moxxie's waist. 

Moxxie had mixed feelings about this contact; on the one hand, he hadn't known Blitzo for very long, and this was intimate; but, on the other hand, he was lonely and hurting, and what stung the most was that he wasn't going to find a kindness like this with anyone else in his life… as he had no one else in his life. 

He felt simultaneously crushed and reassured by this truth. 

Moxxie allowed himself to relax, knowing that Blitzo meant no real harm. 

A loud purr suddenly erupted from the other man's throat, and Moxxie jumped. 

"Did I scare ya?" Blitzo asked teasingly, as the opening credits began to roll. "Don't worry, I just do that if I'm relaxed. I'm not gonna feel you up or anything." 

Moxxie nodded, and allowed himself to snuggle closer as the movie 'Spirit: Stallion of Cimarron' started. He could've sworn his friend's eyes went bright and starry at the sight. 

…

Whilst Blitzo did stroke his side during the film, he at least didn't do anything else. 

And anyway, the touch was kinda nice. He felt a bit better, too, as memories of Chaz's once-loving touches now felt rotten and sour. This touch just felt gentle, reassuring; an unspoken "I've got ya."

At least now he had someone in his life who actually cared about him; even if he was company of the most unconventional kind. 

Chapter 9: Moxxie's Nightmare

Summary:

Blitzo is spying on Moxxie (who is alone after Millie heads for Wrath for the weekend) but chances instead on his weapons specialist having a horrible nightmare.

"Agh!" 

Moxxie shot up in bed, nearly falling off it in the process. His eyes darted around the room; but fortunately, he recognised his bedroom, in his apartment. 

"Thank fuck, it was just a dream." He mumbled to himself, exhaustedly rubbing his temple. 

Alas, he was home alone, as Millie had been invited out on a road trip around Wrath by her siblings and some old friends from childhood, so she'd opted to go. She'd only left yesterday and Moxxie was missing her like mad.

The nightmare didn't help. He didn't want to be alone after something so horrible and cruel - 

But then, maybe he would prefer to be alone? 

For he suddenly became aware - horribly aware - of familiar breathing next to the bed, and he knew it wasn't his wife, who was in Wrath with her family. 

Blitzo. 

Moxxie shot a look to his left - sure enough, the tall, familiar silhouette of his boss loomed over the bed, yellow eyes glowing in the dark. 

"What are you doing, Sir?" Moxxie asked, through gritted teeth. 

"What the fuck does it look like, bitch?" Blitzo replied with a shrug. "Same thing I do every night - except I haven't got Mills to watch." 

"Oh, like I feel so flattered I'm the sole recipient of your stalkerish 'affections'!" Moxxie scolded fiercely, well and truly not in the mood to be dealing with Blitzo tonight. "Blitzo, why can't you just go home!" He snapped. 

Blitzo just blinked owlishly. "C'mon, baby dick, you're not gonna make me go in that?" He pointed to the window, where, sure enough, there was a gentle pitter-patter of rain outside. 

Moxxie would have almost found that relaxing if he didn't have to deal with his perverted employer. It was such a pity that he couldn't just shove Blitzo out of the window - but he and Millie needed their wages. 

Besides, he was reluctant to admit it, but he did have a soft spot for Blitzo, so killing him/seriously injuring him wasn't an option - no matter how fucking tempting it was. 

He settled for scowling at Blitzo, crossing his arms disapprovingly. A bit boring for him, perhaps, but…  

… 

"Could you… not do that, bitch? You look like a little grandma." Blitzo remarked dryly. 

The urge to shove Blitzo out of the window came back, full force, and Moxxie had to recite lyrics from Phantom of the Opera to calm himself down enough to speak again. 

"Sir, whatever you're up to tonight, I'm not in the mood to deal with your shenanigans." Moxxie replied wearily. "Go… go…" 

"If you're gonna tell me to perv on Royal Birdbrain, then go fuck yourself." Blitzo replied, before Moxxie could come up with a witty comeback. Or any comeback, really.  

"I wasn't going to suggest that," Moxxie replied icily. 

Silence enveloped the two men, suffocating them for about five minutes, though it felt closer to ten, with how the time dragged onwards, like a stick being driven through thick sludge.  

…

Then, Blitzo broke the silence with a soft, "...Mox?" 

Moxxie had rolled over in bed, his back to Blitzo, curled up in a foetal position. This was enough to evoke the memory of their first meeting in jail, and Blitzo again felt that wave of sympathy wash over him. 

Stupid cute bitch, making him feel mushy, sappy, stupid shit - 

With a dramatic sigh, Blitzo belly-flopped onto the bed beside Moxxie. 

"C'mon, bitch, talk," he said, gently shaking Moxxie's shoulder in a bid to get the other imp to turn around and face him. 

"No. For Satan's sake, Sir, why must you come here to annoy me - and tonight of all nights?" Moxxie asked in frustration, wriggling towards Millie's vacant side of the bed, moving over until he was close to the edge of the bed, burying himself under the covers to avoid his boss's gaze all the while. 

He wished Millie was here! He wished he could snuggle up to her, breathe in her sweet scent, relish the warmth of her perfect body - 

"Mox…" Blitzo said, quietly, almost sadly. "Why won't you let me help ya?" 

"I do not need help, Sir." Moxxie said through gritted teeth. "Now go away, and leave me alone." 

Alone. 

A double edged sword. So blissful and accursed at once… 

Moxxie almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand run through his hair; the movement was clumsy, and a little jerky, as though unused to doing such a thing; but it was also exceptionally gentle. 

He allowed his eyes to close - just for a little while - to really savour the feeling. After all, it reminded him of when his mother would do it for him when he was little. He let out the softest purr, relaxing under unusually tender fingers. 

"T-thank you, Sir. That does feel nice." Moxxie said quietly. He knew he should be angry that his boss wasn't leaving him alone - and he was still pretty annoyed about it, for sure - but Blitzo's kindness was a light in the darkness that was his despair. 

Not unlike their first meeting, actually… 

"Hehe, no worries, bitch," Blitzo replied, before shifting closer to his friend. "Mox? What happened in your nightmare? You can tell me." 

Moxxie couldn't remember the last time Blitzo had been so gentle, so empathetic, and that unnerved him. Normally, Blitzo's kindnesses were hand wrapped in coarseness, concern went disguised as gruffness. 

Regardless, Moxxie had a feeling his boss wouldn't let up on the matter - and anyway, maybe talking about it would do him good, especially seeing as Millie would most likely be asleep, and he was loath to accidentally wake her - even though she was the heavier sleeper between the two, and rarely woke up - she didn't even bat an eye that one time Blitzo accidentally tripped over a kitchen chair and crashed to the floor, cracking his head open on the floor. 

Moxxie, of course, had not only been awoken by the fucking racket, but also had to tend to his boss's injuries, and clean up the mess the idiot had made.

...

"It was about my father, Sir…" Moxxie said, carefully. 

"Ohh, it's Daddy-bitchin' time!" Blitzo hooted gleefully. 

Moxxie rolled over to glare at him. "Really?" 

"Heh, sorry, not a good time, huh?" He playfully booped Moxxie's nose - which only irritated the sharpshooter more. 

"Blitzo, will you please take this seriously?!" 

Perhaps it was the fact he addressed his employer by name; or perhaps it was his voice betraying just how close he was to bursting into tears; but Blitzo mercifully settled down, with a mumble that could be an apology. 

"I… I sometimes get nightmares of the shit my dad did to me." Moxxie mumbled. It died down by the time I started at the company, but since my near wedding to Chaz, they've flared up again." 

"I'm in the same boat," Blitzo said sympathetically. "I get nightmares about my dad too. Do you have nightmares about what he did to you before you went to jail, or him coming back…?" 

"Since the whole wedding fiasco, it's been both." Moxxie sighed. "I thought telling you guys would help me feel better, but I just feel crap…" 

Blitzo said nothing. 

"Not that you guys haven't been wonderful." Moxxie added, hastily. "But I wonder now if I did the right thing, keeping this a secret." 

Blitzo shook his head. "Hate to tell ya, buddy, but it's never the best option. I mean, this sorta shit always blows up in your face in movies - especially romcoms and shitty soap dramas." He pulled a face. 

"Why do you know so much about those, Sir? I've never taken you to be a fan of those." Moxxie was confused. 

"I'm not, blame the bird bitch I'm fucking." Blitzo replied. "He loves soap dramas, not that I understand why, they're cheesy as fuck." Blitzo then paused, before half-heartedly shoving Moxxie. "Oi, why are we discussing this shit?" 

"You literally started it, Sir!" Moxxie protested. 

"Did not, bitch!" 

"Did so too, asshole!" 

"Bitch!" 

"Asshole!" 

"Baby Dick!" 

Unable to continue their 'witty' repartee, Moxxie groaned in frustration, before punching his pillow. "Sir, I see now that I showed a lack of foresight. I could've stopped us going to Greed." 

"So could I," Blitzo agreed. "I could've killed the bastards in the helicopter, instead of having the worst sex of my life, getting drugged by your shitbag of an ex -" 

"Why the fuck are you making this about you?!" Moxxie shouted.  

"I wasn't finished!" Blitzo snapped back, and shoved him, harder this time. 

Moxxie yelped as he fell off the bed, and crashed to the floor. 

"Ah, shit!" Blitzo crawled over to Moxxie's side, and peeked over the side. "Ya ok?" 

Sniffles. 

Fuck, he'd done it now. 

Blitzo quietly hooked his arms under Moxxie's arms, and pulled him back up beside him. 

"Did… did I hurt ya?" Blitzo asked tentatively, his hands awkwardly hovering over Moxxie's body, checking for any accidental injuries; while he did have the tendency to push Moxxie around; he had no desire to actually hurt his friend. 

Moxxie shook his head, fighting back tears. "Not seriously, Sir. Just a few bruises." He sniffed.  

"No, I feel like shit, considering what ya just told me." Blitzo replied, tenderly lifting a teary-eyed Moxxie onto his lap before nuzzling a wet cheek with his own with a soft purr. "I don't wanna hurt ya." He continued caressing Moxxie's hair, before adding, in a sombre voice, "What I was going to say before, was having to witness your old man reopening your past wounds and being unable to do a fucking thing about it without risking our asses." He sighed. "My dad did shitty things to me too, Mox, that's why I was so wary of your dad when we met him." 

"I could tell," Moxxie sniffed. "You were more guarded than when you met Linn and Joe." 

"They were a pair of sound bitches." Blitzo nodded. 

"My dad threw me down the stairs." Moxxie whispered, his voice a tremor. 

"Um, the fuck, Mox?" 

"I broke my arm. I had to learn how to fashion a sling to give it some chance to heal properly. I must have been about… 10?" 

"Fuck, Mox." The pain in his boss's voice was surprisingly genuine. "Is that what you dreamt about?" Blitzo asked. "That happening again?"

"Yeah." Moxxie nodded. "Except - I also dreamt that… I dreamt that, when he shoved me down the stairs, I was 10 years old again, and when I landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom, I was an adult." 

Blitzo sensed that Moxxie was keeping something else from him, and frowned. "Bitch, I can tell you're keeping something from me." 

"I am not, Sir." Moxxie protested. 

"Mox, you dumbass, I don't wanna argue with ya again." 

"Then don't, Sir." 

"Since when has that worked, you stupid bitch?" Blitzo grumbled. "We fight every fucking day!" 

"Almost every day, Sir." 

"Mox, drop the formalities." Blitzo growled. 

Moxxie sighed, sensing the formality was not the only thing Blitzo wanted him to drop. 

"If you really must know, Sir - erm, Blitzo-" he corrected hastily "-I saw you and Millie, standing at the bottom of the stairs. I begged you guys to help me to my feet, as I could barely move, but neither of you responded. Then, my dad came downstairs and slapped the shit out of me." He let out a shaky breath. 

Blitzo felt a breath catch in his throat. He remembered his wn dad being a shitbag, but… Crimson was much, much worse. How Moxxie had survived that, he had no idea; but he was very, very glad that his friend had made it out and into his life. 

"That's the worst part of it, Sir. My past and present seem to blur together in my nightmares now, and I…" Moxxie felt himself tearing up, and he barrelled into Blitzo, burying his face into his boss's shoulder as he burst into tears. "I hate him… I hate that fucking bastard." He sobbed. 

Blitzo was briefly startled, but he quickly wrapped his arms around his friend, rubbing his back comfortingly.   

"Well, if your old man tries to throw you around again, Mox, I'll shoot him in the dick." Blitzo vowed, over his friend's sobs. "Not that he'll get near enough to you for that to happen."  

...

"I appreciate the sentiment, Sir. But I have one concern with that." Moxxie whispered hoarsely, as he calmed down enough to speak again. 

"Oh for fuck's sake, what now, baby dick?" 

"My father knew the 'O' in your name was silent, and yet, none of us specified there was a silent 'O' in your name." Moxxie said. 

"Yeah, that rattled me." Blitzo admitted. "That was when I kinda pegged that we were heading into the monster's den." 

Aside from a small groan from Moxxie about the 'pegging' comment, the two men were silent as they processed this information.  

"Mox, is it possible Crimson is… spying on us?" Blitzo asked. 

"It's the only explanation I can think of, Sir." Moxxie replied with a groan, and wriggled off Blitzo's lap before burying himself under the covers. 

"Hey, hey, get back here, asshole." Blitzo chided, pulling the covers away until he'd found his friend. He draped an arm over Moxxie and pulled him close to his chest, resting his chin between Moxie's horns. 

"I gotcha, buddy." Blitzo said, beginning to purr as he gently nuzzled Moxxie's hair with his chin. "Your dad may have more power and shit, but he'd be a fucking idiot to mess with us again." Blitzo said, with feeling. "Especially since Mills WIPED the floor with his stupid goons!" He chortled.  

"Thank you, Sir - Blitzo. I appreciate that." Moxxie replied warmly, snuggling into his boss's chest. 

This was… actually pretty comforting… 

"Heh, you'd do the same for me, Mox, I know you would." Blitzo said. 

"I would," Moxxie replied, a sadistic grin breaking out over his face. "If I get the opportunity, I'd fucking castrate your dad." 

"Let's do that, bitch, then you kill your dad any way you like and I'll kill my dad as I see fit." Blitzo replied, fumbling about under the sheets, until he found Moxxie's hand, before giving it a good squeeze. 

"Night, Mox." 

Moxxie smiled softly in the dark, before squeezing his friend's hand in return. 

"Goodnight, Blitzo." He said fondly. "Thank you for being here. I might not have wanted you here, but I needed you more than I realised tonight." 

"What are friends for?" Blitzo mumbled, half-asleep. "'Sides, I'm always down for a daddy-bitchin' session, so let me know if you're ever needing to do it too, ya know? We can do it together." 

"Sounds good, Sir." 

"Maybe I'll…" Blitzo yawned, looking very sleepy. "Maybe I'll draw our dad's on some big canvas or something, and we can fucking use them for target practice." 

Moxxie giggled. "Sounds good to me too, Sir. Goodnight." 

"Night, bitch." 

And the pair finally drifted off to sleep, their hands still gently entwined with each other's. 

Chapter 10: Pan Pal

Summary:

Moxxie gets some LGBT÷  schooling in response to a query. 

Notes:

Set during the days Moxxie lives with Blitzo, pre- I.M.P.

"I brought you some cocoa, Blitzo," Moxxie handed him his favourite horse-themed mug. 

"Oh, thanks," Blitzo took it, watching as Moxxie settled on the sofa next to him, holding his own Phantom of the Opera coffee mug - also filled with hot cocoa. It had been one of Moxxie's first purchases since their arrival in Pride following a daring escape from Greed prison. 

"Erm, Blitzo, Sir?" Moxxie asked hesitantly. 

"What is it, Mox?" Blitzo asked. 

"I…" Moxxie blushed, as he started fidgeting with his tail with one hand. 

'Cute little fucker, blushing like a schoolgirl…' Blitzo thought deviously, cradling his cup of cocoa. 

"I… I wanted to ask you something." 

"Satan's balls, Mox, what could be so important you made fucking hot cocoa?" Blitzo asked, taking a sip. To be fair, it wasn't half bad. He still preferred his iced coffees - but, he could get used to having hot cocoa with his cellmate-turned temporary flatmate most nights.  

"I… I'm confused about something. And I'm hoping you could help me shed some light on it."

"Alright, spill your guts, bitch, before I do it for you." 

Moxxie rolled his eyes at his blood-and-gore obsessed friend. "Thanks for that encouragement, Blitzo." He took a deep breath. "Look, this probably seems… silly, and I'm probably wasting your time, but -" 

"Get to the point, stupid, or you will be wasting my time." 

'So considerate.' Moxxie thought, crossly, before taking a deep breath. "I was dating a guy before I met you in jail." 

Blitzo nodded. 

"So I always just assumed I was, well, gay, because that's all I've known. But lately, I've noticed that I've been… fancying women as well…" he blushed as he said this. 

"So, nothing to be ashamed of." Blitzo shrugged carelessly. 

"But does this mean I've switched from one sexuality to another? Did my ex put me off guys for life and set me on another path?" 

He glowered as he heard a snort and muffled laughter from beside him. "It's not funny!" 

"Oh, my sweet, sweet Mox." Blitzo replied, amused. "Whoever employs you and your thick skull is gonna feel so fucking scammed." He chortled. 

"I fail to see how this is amusing." Moxxie huffed, hurt. 

"I think you're overthinking the whole thing, stupid," Blitzo replied, affectionately ruffling Moxxie's hair before taking another sip of his cocoa. "It sounds like you might be bisexual. That's all." 

"Bi… bisexual, Sir?" 

"What it says on the fucking tin - you'll fuck men and women." Blitzo continued. 

Moxxie paused to give this some thought, taking a sip of his own hot cocoa. "You know, that's something I've never considered." 

"Sounds like ya didn't know the word for it," Blitzo replied, feeling more sympathetic now. Coming out as a member of the LGBT+ community could be hard for some demons, without the added difficulty of knowing the language to describe themselves, which meant they struggled more with self-acceptance. 

Blitzo was glad he'd been able to access information about the LGBT+ community and identify as pansexual. 

"Are you bisexual too?" Moxxie asked curiously. 

"What?" 

"You've mentioned… both men and women…" Moxxie blushed again, clearly unwilling to mention his friend's sexual conquests. 

"Oh, that? Mox, I'm fucking pan." Blitzo replied. 

"And what does that mean?" Moxxie asked, looking as though his head would explode. "How would you define pansexuality? 

Blitzo had an answer come to him, and he thought that Moxxie would approve, it was, simplistically, fact-based. 

"Easy, Mox - if you're gay or straight, you're only gonna want to fuck 50% of the population, right?"  

"That makes sense…" 

"If you're bisexual, that goes up to 75%." Blitzo continued. "Cos you'll fuck men and women, but anyone who falls outside that binary… you're not gonna see them in that light." 

"OK…" 

"And if you're willing to fuck 100% of the population, you're a pansexual!" Blitzo gestured proudly to himself. 

"So, you'll…" 

"Fuck absolutely everybody who'll fuck me? Fuck yes." 

Moxxie rolled his eyes at that comment. "No surprises there, Sir." He softened. "But, erm… thanks, Blitzo, that clears up a lot, actually."

"No problem, bitch." Blitzo downed the rest of his cocoa before putting his mug on the floor next to the couch. He wrapped an arm around Moxxie and snuggled up to him, purring away contentedly. 

He hoped Moxxie wouldn't move out for a while yet. For while the little guy drove him batshit crazy some days, Blitzo had genuinely grown fond of Moxxie and was glad to have some male company around in his life. 

Notes:

So, I noticed I accidentally published chapter 9 twice without realising, so I've fixed it, and I've brought you all this little piece instead!

Thank you all for the comments, kudos and bookmarks so far! it really means a lot! 😁

Chapter 11: A Lullaby for Blitzo

Summary:

Blitzo turns up at M&M's apartment (again!) after another sleepless night. Good thing Moxxie knows how to comfort his boss.

Blitzo gingerly pulled the blankets back, before kicking off his boots and sliding in next to Moxxie.

It was then that Moxxie woke up, blinking blearily at his boss, now cuddled up beside him in bed.

"Sir-" he started, feeling too exhausted to argue, but clearly not happy at having Blitzo sneak into bed with them - again.

"Could I stay?"

"Blitzo, you're supposed to ask before you get in. Not that you should be getting in anyway." Moxxie blinked at the absurdity of the situation.

"Mox, please, I can't fucking sleep." Blitzo implored, giving Moxxie a puppy-dog eyed look.

"Blitzo, surely you don't need me - or my wife - to help you sleep, Sir." Moxxie commented wryly.

"I feel safer being around you guys…" Blitzo grumbled quietly. "Like… I know I piss you off a lot, Mox, but you've always had my back no matter what." His voice had softened to a near-whisper.

Moxxie was wary; whilst this was a touching observation, he wouldn't entirely be surprised if it was a guilt trip.

"I…" Moxxie began, but could think of nothing to say. "Blitzo, um, Sir, would…"

"For fuck's sake, spit it out, Mox!" Blitzo grumbled.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Moxxie asked quietly.

Blitzo shook his head, burying his face into Moxxie's shoulder. "Not now…" he mumbled. "Please…"

There was something in his boss's voice that caught Moxxie by the heartstrings, and he lifted his arm to wrap it around the big softie, pulling him close.

This wasn't the first time Blitzo would do this; and it might not be the last either.

And, truth be told, as much as Blitzo annoyed Moxxie, he hadn't the heart to turn his friend away when he was like this; as Moxxie himself had often had nightmares during his time in Greed, and would wake up wishing he had a friendly face to confide in, and a kind heart to comfort him; instead of having to endure trembling in the dark, hoping his scumbag of a sperm donor didn't hear him.

So, no matter how much Moxxie might try to argue, he made no real effort to kick Blitzo out of his bed when his boss was feeling scared and lonely.

"Would you like me to sing to you, Blitzo?" Moxxie offered, feeling silly and sheepish, but trying not to let on.

Blitzo was silent, so Moxxie decided to sing, figuring that if his employer wanted him to shut up, he'd make that clear anyway.

So, the weapons expert cleared his throat, and began to softly sing,

"Here I am, this is me
I come into this world so wild and free
Here I am, so young and strong…"

…

Was… was Moxxie singing…

Fuck, he was.

Blitzo felt his eyes water as he listened to 'Here I Am' from Spirit: Stallion of Cimarron.

He loved this song, it was a small comfort for him when he was feeling upset, stressed, or scared - but he usually played it on VoxTube, as his own singing voice was rubbish.

So to listen to Moxxie sing it as a lullaby, just for him… was fucking magical.

And it wasn't just the song, either… it was the fact that Moxxie knew the whole fucking thing by heart, and was singing it as a lullaby meant that his friend had clearly taken the time to learn it by heart… for such an occasion.

He snuggled closer to Moxxie, who gently laid a hand across his head, and caressing the bald spot between those curved horns, he continued,

"Right here in the place where I belong
It's a new world, it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of a young heart…"

Blitzo felt a hand take his own, and he blinked as he saw Mox's tiny fingers curled around his hand, before giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

In return, Blitzo gratefully - and affectionately - squeezed Mox's hand.

"It's a new day in a new land
And it's waiting for me
Here I am
Oh, it's a new world, it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of a young heart…"

Blitzo squeezed back, feeling his heart swell with affection for his sharpshooter.

He and Mox could have their arguments, but, at the end of the day, he appreciated Moxxie's unwavering loyalty, his compassion, and his friendship; all of which Blitzo often felt he was ill-deserving of.

"Yeah, it's a new day in a new land
And it's waiting for me
Here I am."

“Just close your eyes, Sir. I will still be here when you open them again.” Moxxie smiled tenderly at his boss, who sniffled and buried his face into Moxxie's shoulder.

"Thanks, Mox…" Blitzo mumbled, feeling a little drowsy. "Could… Could you sing again? That was fucking beautiful…" he sighed dreamily.

He could give Mox that; at least, after such a beautiful performance.

Moxxie nodded graciously, before he began to sing again,

"Here I am, this is me,
I come into this world so wild and free…"

Blitzo closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax as he felt gentle fingers caress the curve of his horn. He felt safe, comfortable and cosy.

He fell asleep snuggled up to his friend, a small, contented smile on his face.

…

Moxxie smiled to himself as Blitzo began snoring into his shoulder. He knew that by morning, his boss would be snoring loudly and drooling all over his pyjamas, and being all clingy and cuddly -

And he didn't mind at all. Blitzo was safe here, and that mattered to Moxxie more than he'd care to admit.

…

A/N: I know I did an idea like this already, but I came up with the headcanon that Moxxie would sing 'Here I Am' for Blitzo as a lullaby and I couldn't resist 🥺 so, please enjoy this update!

Chapter 12: Sharing A Bath

Summary:

Blitzo and Moxxie deal with an imp-eating plant, and end up bonding... in the bathtub?

Moxxie was seething.

Today had been a shit day - a total write off.

He and Blitzo had agreed (Well, Blitzo agreed - he just got dragged into it, as usual -) to complete an errand for Prince Stolas whilst he was overseeing matters relating to Princess Octavia's education i.e. attending parents evening.

Their mission had been to acquire a particularly vicious plant from a garden centre in Sloth.

So far, the plant had decapitated five imps, nearly ripped Blitzo's hand off and bit Moxxie's tail when he tried to stop the plant from eating his boss's hand - who had the nerve to laugh at him getting his tail bitten, the ungrateful dick!

He hadn't been laughing, however, when they got kicked out of two bars and presented with lifetime bans from both.

Bad for business and all that claptrap.

And, on top of all this, the plant then decided it would attempt to eat the receptionist of a crappy hotel they were going to spend the night in.

A terrified Moxxie had to wrangle with the fucking plant again, in order to stop it eating the receptionist before they could get room keys - and he had to do it alone, after Blitzo decided the receptionist was "a rude bastard" and refused to help.

How the fuck they still got a room after all that, he didn't know. Did the receptionist face nearly being eaten by murderous - very not vegan - vegetation on a daily basis.

…

Now, gingerly nursing the bite on his tail, Moxxie scowled at the innocuous - looking plant in the corner of their hotel room.

He scowled at the bathroom door, from which emitted swears and bangs -
where Blitzo was trying - and failing - to get enough hot water for a bath.

Moxxie had been keeping an eye on the plant, to ensure it didn't try to destroy some furniture, or that it would attempt to attack them.

But, judging by the bangs and aggressive swearing coming from the bathroom, Blitzo wasn't having any luck.

So, the sharpshooter decided to see if his boss needed any help.
With a sigh, he got up, and sauntered over to the bathroom.

"Blitzo, sir, do you need help?"

Blitzo was angrily leaning over the bathtub, his fingers gripping both the bathtub rim and the tap.

"Ugh, come on, motherfucker!" Blitzo whacked the tap with the heel of his hand first, then did the same with his prized percussion pistol.

"Blitzo! Sir, be careful!" Moxxie pleaded.

"Fuck's sake, the hot water is taking its sweet ass time!" Blitzo grunted, shoving his gun into the waistband of his pants. Upon receiving 'The Look' from Moxxie, however, he reluctantly retrieved it, twirling it between his fingers.

"Will ya relax, I ain't gonna shoot my fucking balls off -"

"You said your safety catch wasn't working." Moxxie tutted. "What if you had an accident? I do not want to see your… privates under any context, Sir, especially burnt and mangled."

Fuck. Trust Mox to remember that crucial detail about his gun. And to spare his dick from becoming horrifically mutilated.

"Hey, thanks for sparing my balls and allowing me to remain your beloved neighbourhood manslut." He bowed dramatically, with an air of sarcasm that Moxxie could only dream of pulling off.

The sharpshooter just rolled his eyes, watching as Blitzo sauntered out of the bathroom to put his gun down on his bedside table.

He was sweaty, covered in blood, and longing for a fucking bath. And for Millie, too.

Sadly, she was meeting an old friend from childhood for drinks, whilst he had to deal with his oaf of a boss for a night in a hotel so crappy it had no hot water and a shower head without a functioning hose.

Fuck.

"How's the water looking, Mox?" Blitzo asked from the bedroom.

"Um-" Moxxie cautiously stuck his little finger under the tap. There was some warm water coming through, but not a lot.

"Erm, it's getting there, Sir-"

"Mox! Name, please!"

"Sorry, it's getting warmer, Blitzo." He corrected himself, making sure to stand well back from the door as Blitzo barrelled back in.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" Blitzo punched the air triumphantly as some warmth finally seeped into the bathtub. "We have hot water, bitch!" He slapped Moxxie's shoulder excitedly and began urging the hot water to speed up.

"Um, seeing as that took a while, Sir, I might just leave it tonight -" Moxxie suggested, awkwardly. It made little sense for one to reuse the other's bathwater, after all, and Moxxie, as hot and bothered as he was, thought it wiser to offer his employer the exclusive use of the bath tonight -

"Don't be stupid, Mox! We can share, can't we?" Blitzo suggested.

Moxxie wanted to rip his fucking hair out at that suggestion.

First he'd been told by the receptionist downstairs that he has to share a bed with Blitzo, and now - they might have to share a bath?!

"Why?!" Moxxie squeaked. "It's hardly appropriate-"

"Look, Mox, we both have dicks, don't we?" Blitzo pointed out. "Besides, it'll get us both clean without a long-ass wait for hot water, or forgoing a wash - which you are not doing, by the way, Mox, ya fucking stink. Well, ya always do, but you definitely smell like a fucking corpse now Join me or you're sleeping in the fucking lobby, Mox!"

Moxxie frowned. As much as he didn't like the idea of sharing a bath with his man whore of an employer, he knew that he made a valid point. Plus, he could sense a losing argument when he saw it.

Still, he argued.

"But I'll get no peace from you. And I'm sure you would want a bit of peace from me and my "bitching", sir."

He would've liked a few moments to himself without Blitzo trying to invade his bloody boundaries all the time.

"Aw, you hurt my feelings, you little asshole." Blitzo retorted in a baby voice.

"With all due respect, Sir, will you shut up?!" Moxxie asked, exasperated.

Blitzo was about to find a clever retort to this when he realised the tap was still running, and the bathtub was nearly overflowing.

"FUCK!" He quickly screwed the tap back off, and glowered at Moxxie. "You're 100% getting blamed for that." He growled.

"Me?!" Moxxie snapped. "You're the one who got distracted!"

Blitzo had had enough, and without warning, his claws were clasping Moxxie's shoulders - tightly.

"Look, Mox, we're both dead-ass tired and in need of a fucking bath. The water isn't going to be hot for long, so we might as well just share this one, m'kay?" He said. For someone at the end of his tether, he was sounding reasonable - which scared Moxxie even more than an angry Blitzo.

"We can get cleaned up and get our tired asses to bed quicker, and you can call Mills-"

"Fine," Moxxie grumbled in annoyance, before his boss could say anything lewd about Millie. "Will you behave?"

"I'll refrain from manslutting if that's what you're worried about, Mox." Blitzo said, giving Moxxie the stink eye as he said this.

Moxxie had meant 'could you just be quiet, Sir?' in general, but he knew Blitzo would go insane trying to stay quiet.

Anyway, if he continued to explicitly state that his boss was pushing his buttons, then his boss was going to explicitly continue to push his buttons.

It would be best for the both of them to have some middle ground - an unspoken compromise.

"Alright, fine." Moxxie held up his hands.

The two began removing coats and shirts first, dumping them on the floor in two piles.

As he unbuttoned his own shirt, Moxxie caught sight of his boss's naked, scar-riddled chest, and wondered, not for the first time, how Blitzo had actually gotten his scars.

This had clearly been a sore subject for Blitzo, who had remained tight-lipped on the matter, especially since he had a habit of remarking on scars he got on the job, or the ones M&M acquired between them.

"Do ya fucking mind?"

Moxxie hadn't realised he'd been staring, and blushed. "Sorry, Sir." He mumbled, sheepishly.

…

Soon, the two were in the bathtub, back to back, sitting in silence - and now-tepid bathwater.

"Funny, that," Blitzo remarked, out of nowhere.

"What is?" Moxxie asked curiously. These had been the first his boss had spoken since his indiscreet staring.

"Being here." Blitzo replied. "Sharing a bath. It's like being in prison again…"

"We didn't have baths in prison, Sir." Moxxie replied, confused. "Just those horrible showers that rarely produced a happy medium."

"No, but we were up in close quarters a lot." Blitzo reminded him. "Remember, lack of privacy?"

"I guess it does… a little." Moxxie relented. He wondered if it was prison, among other things, that led Blitzo to disrespecting certain boundaries.

Blitzo chuckled, before resting his head on Moxxie's shoulder.

"Why are you doing that?" Moxxie asked, slightly annoyed, as his boss began nuzzling into his neck, purring softly as he did so.

"Wanted to, ya fussy asshole," Blitzo grunted.

Moxxie wished Blitzo would stop touching him!

He opened his mouth to tell his boss off again - his job be damned! - when there came a series of mumbles.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"I said I feel safe… being with ya…"

Moxxie was rather surprised by admission - more so by the fact that Blitzi had actually dared to explicitly state it aloud, in a clear moment of vulnerability, than at the truthfulness of that statement.

 

"How so, Si… Blitzo?"

"Well, I feel that, even if ya do judge me for my shit, you've never once strayed from my side." Blitzo said quietly. "I know ya do judge me, but, it's nice, knowing you're caring about me, even with your typical bitchiness."

"I'm "bitchy", Blitzo, because I don't want to see your mistakes hurt you." Moxxie said. "Like you stuffing a faulty gun down your pants. Even if you deserved to have your dick blown to kingdom come, Sir, I wasn't going to allow you to get hurt on my watch."

"You're a good man, Mox. Better than me, even." Blitzo replied

Moxxie felt himself blush at the unexpected praise. "Who are you, and what have you done with my boss?"

"Fuck you, baby dick." Blitzo retorted.

"That sounds more like my boss," Moxxie replied dryly.

"Ya know, my old man was right about me," Blitzo said quietly. "I am just a massive fuckup."

Moxxie's heart broke on hearing that - especially since he knew what it was like, being told by your own father that you weren't loved, or valued.

"Blitzo, you're not a fuckup." He replied, scooching up the tub to rest his back against his boss's.

"You, you as good as saved my life, Sir." He said quietly. He reached his hand behind him, searching for Blitzo's hand, before gently wrapping small fingers around his boss's larger hand.

"You were the first person since my mother to value me as a person, and you valued my skills with weaponry in a way my father -"

"Sperm donor, you idiot, me and Mills went over this with ya." Blitzo corrected him gruffly - but he squeezed Moxxie's hand with such an unexpected tenderness that it took the now surprised sharpshooter a minute to collect himself and resume speaking.

"Right, sperm donor." Moxxie smiled despite himself. "The way my sperm donor never did. Happy now?"

"Yeah."

"You at least ask me questions about guns and their firing power, their aim, shooting range…"

"Well, I need the best of the most badass weapons for the company, don't I?" Blitzo argued.

It wasn't an unreasonable argument, but Moxxie sensed that Blitzo was hiding something.

"But you never once asked me to shut up when I gave you more information than you need. Why?" The sharpshooter pressed.

…

This caught Blitzo off guard; he hadn't expected to have to say something about it.

"Well, ya know -" Blitzo rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "It's… uh…"

"Blitzo?"

"Ugh, I really am glad you're not facing me right now." Blitzo groused. "Fucking puppy dog eyes will come out any fucking moment…."

Moxxie said nothing, but Blitzo caved anyway. "Fine, fine, you win, little asshole…" He flicked his tail to splash Moxxie in annoyance, before adding, "I allow ya to ramble on cos I see how excited you are to… to talk about it." He said, reluctantly.

"Really, Sir?"

"Yes, really. Your stupid cute-ass face gets all… smiley and shit, and…" Blitzo trailed off, smiling himself. "It's nice." He allowed his tail to intertwine with Moxxie's, making the younger imp squeak in surprise.

"Hey, I could tell the moment I first met ya you'd been through shit." Blitzo said, quietly. "I know I like bullying ya for shit… but I really do want ya to be a happy fucker. You've more than earned it."

Moxxie was stunned, but pleased. "T-thank you, Sir." He said, unable to avoid grinning from horn-to-horn. He blushed at his next suggestion.

"I - I know we're both undressed right now, Sir - Blitzo - but, could we… hug?"

Moxxie winced, hoping the delivery wasn't weird.

"Hey, course!" Blitzo began to shuffle around to face his weapons expert.

Moxxie, hoping he wouldn't regret this, began to adjust himself too.

The pair had to be careful not to trample tails, or kick shins - but they somehow managed it, much to Moxxie's surprise, who had expected a kick to the shin, or a squished tail.

…

At last, the pair made eye contact with each other.

Blitzo smiled tenderly as he stared at Moxxie, a hand reaching out to brush a freckled cheek, before he allowed his arms to swallow Moxxie up in affection and tenderness.

Moxxie wrapped his arms around his friend's chest, and squeezed gently.

He could hear a purr rumble through Blitzo's chest in response.

…

It was then that Moxxie caught sight of his fingers and laughed. "Sir, it seems we've gone very… prune-like." He showed Blitzo his hand.

"Fuck." Blitzo chortled, seeing that Moxxie was right. "Suppose we better hop out and get dry, MoxMox!" He said cheerily.

"Yep!" Moxxoe grinned- until he heard a familiar 'chomp chomp!' And his face soured.

"Ah, fuck, we're sharing a room with an imp-eating plant." Blitzo remembered. "Hang on, I'm gonna call the feathered fucker, see how we can avoid getting killed in our beds."

"We could… sleep in the bathtub?" Moxxie suggested weakly.

"Fuck that, idiot." Blitzo snapped, before his eyes went wide, his hands in his pocket. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong, Sir?" Moxxie asked, alarmed.

"That plant ate my fucking phone!"

Moxxie sighed.

This was going to be a long night.

"Here, give me your phone, Mox, I'll phone that fucking owl that way."

Moxxie sighed. "Very well, Sir - but if you do anything with it except call His Highness, I will feed you to the plant myself!"

…

A/N: I was inspired to write this after looking up friendship tropes over the weekend.

Chapter 13: After the Harvest Moon Festival

Summary:

Blitzo and Moxxie chat after defeating Striker at the Harvest Moon Festival, and Blitzo gains a little insight into his employee's past.

"You good, Blitzo?"

Blitzo looked over at Loona briefly before focusing on the road ahead. "Yeah, I am, sweetie, just… troubled about nearly losing M&M and…" he blushed sheepishly.

"You could've died as well, you dickhead." Loona snapped, her eyes briefly showing some distress, before she blinked it away. "When I came in…"

"Heh, nothing your old man couldn't handle, precious," Blitzo replied, cockily, before looking in the rear view mirror to see M&M huddled in the back.

Millie was fast asleep, surprising considering she'd hurt her arm and leg in the tussle with Striker (though, then again, Blitzo supposed Millie was used to taking a battering.)

But it was Moxxie he was most worried about; I.M.P's sharpshooter was curled in a corner, an arm around his wife's waist, blinking as if to fight back tears; or maybe he was just tired.

Or it most likely both; today had been a long day, with a shitty ending for them all: Striker had escaped them; Millie was grievously injured and therefore unable to work for a while; and Blitzo was going to be haunted by the fact that he nearly shot Moxxie during the fight. Granted, that was Striker’s doing, not his, but still - at least Moxxie had reflexively used the Carmine Crafted Blessing-Tipped Rifle to block the bullet.

But Blitzo would never forgive himself if one of his bullets had either killed or grievously injured his dear friend.

In all, the only silver lining was that Blitzo, Millie, Moxxie, and of course, Stolas, had survived today; ready to face Striker down another day. Blitzo wasn't looking forward to it, but he was determined to get vengeance for the damage Striker inflicted on his ragtag crew.

But first, he decided to do some emotional damage control…

"Mox…?" He asked, cautiously.

"Yes, Sir?" Moxxie asked, startled by his friend's question. "Can I help you?"

"Hey, um… ya OK? You look like shit?"

Blitzo winced at the question; even Loona gave him a 'wtf' look from beside him.

Moxxie was more gracious about this misstep than he would usually be, so he was more worried. "I'll be OK, Sir, once I get Millie home and to bed. And get some sleep myself, of course."

"How's your injuries?"

Moxxie started. "Pardon, Sir?"

"Come off it, bitch - every time you've attempted to sleep, you always wake up and rub your neck. And you never usually have trouble falling asleep in the back. And you're fucking wheezing. I can see those fucking bruises.”

He sighed.

"Right, I'm getting foot cramps," Blitzo huffed, annoyed. "Loonie, could you watch things here while I stop and walk it off?"

"Sure, whatever." Loona replied, as monotone as ever.

"Text me or Mox if Mills needs anything," he added, gesturing to the sleeping bruiser in the back seat.

"Why would Loona need to text me, Sir?" Moxxie asked, confused.

"You're coming, bitch." Blitzo said.

"To help you walk your cramp off…?"

"Christ on a stick, ya smooth brain, I want to talk to you!" Blitzo snapped.

Moxxie attempted to shush him, for fear of Millie being awoken, but Millie just slumbered on, unaware of what was going on around her.

"Mox, chill, Millie literally sleeps like the dead." Blitzo snarked. "Now get your ass outta here, capiche?"

Moxxie gulped, and opened the back door of the van, sliding out.

…

"So, did you have a cramp or not?"

"A bit. I just exaggerated the urgency to stop." Blitzo admitted.

"Right."

"So, spill your guts, bitch, what's going on?" Blitzo asked him.

Moxxie hesitated, looking up into his boss's flinty gaze, before mumbling,

"Millie promised me she'd speak with her parents - she's spitting feathers about what happened during the Festival."

"As if there isn't enough spitting feathers in the office already," Blitzo replied with a cheeky, lustful grin.

Moxxie caught the gist and glared at his boss. "Really, Sir?" He asked dryly. "At a time like this?"

"Relax, baby dick, ya know what I mean." Blitzo said teasingly, punching Moxxie playfully on the arm.

Moxxie just scowled at his boss in response, which made Blitzo hesitate. Had he… fucked up again?

"Look, baby dick, you're another still pissed at me offering Striker a job, are ya?"

"No," Moxxie replied, a little too quickly, before admitting… "OK… maybe just a bit. But I'm glad you reconsidered."

"Bitch, he tried to kill - nearly - everyone important to me!" Blitzo protested. Realising he was letting on too much about Stolas, he quickly added, "I couldn't have him on the team threatening you guys, that's my job." He chuckled weakly.

A sniff.

"Christ on a stick, Mox, I was kidding!" Blitzo snapped impatiently.

He only received another sniff in response. He looked over to make another comment; but it died on his lips on seeing Moxxie's eyes welling with tears.

"Ah, fuck me," Blitzo muttered, dismayed at seeing his employee in tears. "Mox, what's wrong?"

"It's at times like this… that I'm scared of calling you guys family," Moxxie whispered, his voice barely audible now, "because - because I'm scared of losing you guys. I try to - to distance myself. Try to remind myself that we are just employees - your employees - in some vain hope that it won't hurt my heart so much if something does happen."

"Hasn't worked, has it?" Blitzo asked sympathetically. Whilst he did see his employee's as family, he understood his sharpshooter's desire to keep loved ones at arm's length; even if their methods of actually doing so were vastly different.

He had distanced himself from his childhood friend, who had been like a surrogate brother to him as kids, and he rarely spoke to his sister these days, though he knew she was in rehab.

He knew as well that Moxxie had lost his mom at a young age and he wasn't in touch with his father for… unknown reasons, but prison had given him small hints that Mr. Knolastname Sr. was not a pleasant man, at the very least.

Boruta had fucking made sure of that, the fucking poker wanker.

 

Blitzo caught sight of Moxxie's shoulders shuddering, and realised his weapons specialist was crying.

"Fuck." He muttered, shuffling close to the smaller imp before quietly wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Hey, Mox, you're OK. Or, you will be. Just -" But he was still unsure on what to say.

Fuck.

"Look, just - do what you need to do, OK? Even if it involves you being an absolute bitch. Just remember I've got ya." Blitzo said, rubbing Moxxie's back.

Moxxie buried his teary face into his boss's chest, sniffling and getting snot all over Blitzo's shirt.

Blitzo wasn't pleased when he realised this, but he decided not to comment, just focused on rubbing Moxxie's back.

…

After about 10 minutes of unconsolable weeping, Moxxie wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffing back snot. "Sorry- sorry about that, Sir." He whimpered.

Blitzo just squeezed his shoulder. "It's fine, it's fine," he muttered. "Ya good now?"

"I - guess so." Moxxie nodded sheepishly. "Sorry… I'm in a bit of a state right now."

Blitzo didn't blame him; he himself had been scared shitless when Moxxie revealed to him and Joe that M&M had nearly died at Striker's hands, and he needed help to save Stolas from Striker and rescue Millie from the bear trap.

Joe had bravely barged into the cellar to free his daughter whilst Blitzo and Moxxie went to deal with Striker and ensure he couldn't harm Prince Stolas, or anyone else, really.

…

Blitzo disengaged from the hug, but kept his hands planted on Moxxie's arms for reassurance.

"Look, I… I'm sorry, OK? I… I didn't want to… I … fuck." he rubbed his hand over his face, exasperated, only to hear an adorable giggle.

"You ok, Sir?" Moxxie asked, trying - and failing - to hide his amusement.

'At least he's finding it amusing,' Blitzo thought, removing his hand from his face; at the sight of Moxxie's cute little smile, he felt his heart melt.

…

The two men were silent for a few minutes before Blitzo spoke up, "Hey, Mox?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"... don't expect this to come from me often, OK, but… I'm far from embarrassed at relying on ya… cuz, you are reliable, loyal and hardworking to a fault." He smiled earnestly at his employee, and put his hand on his friend's shoulder before adding. "Even if ya get on my tits too much about unimportant shit."

This made the sharpshooter giggle adorably. "Thank you, Sir." Moxxie whispered gratefully. "That… that means a lot."

"Good, good." Blitzo nodded, slinging his arm around Moxxie before giving him a friendly noogie. "C'mon, let's head back, the girls will be wondering where we got to."

"Yes sir."

"But, permit me one question."

Moxxie was wary now. "Yes… Sir?"

"Look, if you'd rather not tell me, you can tell me to fuck off or whatever, but… you said you were born here…"

"Yes…?"

"Yet, you're nothing like most of the Wrathians here. What the fuck gives?"

Moxxie let out a long breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Shit… I had a feeling that this would come back to haunt me one day." He said quietly.

"Mox, ya OK?"

"I feel that someone should know." Moxxie decided, stopping in his tracks to look his boss in the eye, despite how scared he was.

"I was born in Wrath, yes, that was wholly the truth." He began, rubbing at his arm. "But… I wasn't raised here. In fact, I don't have any memories of here at all." His hand released his arm to sweep across the landscape in a dramatic action before he dropped it to his side. "I… moved away when I was very young, before I could really… remember shit." He shuddered, and he realised in dismay that he was about to fucking start crying again.

"So, if you're not… if you didn't grow up here, where were -" Blitzo paused. "Fuck, I'm being a dumbass, ain't I? It must be Greed, it must be. Cuz, we met there… it would make the most sense. I mean, most bastards there can shoot guns from the moment they're learning to walk.”

Moxxie nodded shamefully.

"I take it ya never told Mills, huh?"

"I told her we met… before we started I.M.P," Moxxie whispered, his eyes burning and a tear trickled down his cheek. "Fuck, I'm crying again… I'm sorry…"

"I brought that on, bitch, I should be the one apologising." Blitzo scolded good naturedly. He pulled Moxxie close to him again, secretly relishing the warmth of the smaller imp as Moxxie snuggled into his chest.

He wasn't normally cuddly during sappy-ass moments like this, but Mox was a wreck, and he nearly died today… Plus, Blitzo almost inadvertently shot him, so he decided to be a bit nicer than usual.

Blitzo considered texting Loona to tell her they were fine, just taking a bit longer than expected; but decided to wait until after Moxxie was finished.
He wrapped his tail around his friend's waist, and started running his fingers through Mox's soft, fluffy hair, gently purring all the while to (hopefully) comfort his friend.

‘I've got ya, Mox.’

Chapter 14: Caught Sleeping on the Job

Summary:

Blitzo finds Moxxie sleeping whilst the pair are working late, and decides to take him home to Millie. (This was inspired by a pin I found on Pinterest. Don't know who created the drawing for it, but it was cute enough to inspire this!)

Also, I was inspired to make this one a two (maybe three) parter! Cos I love those!

Part two to the story will be called 'Trapped!'

“Mox, what the fuck are ya doing?!”

Blitzo stormed over to where Moxxie was hunched over his desk, where he'd been working on the company budget.

Blitzo remembered the smaller imp had been whinging about the ‘numbers not adding up’ or some bullshit. Blitzo had ignored him then, not really caring.

It wasn't his responsibility.

Just as his hand was hovering over Moxxie's shoulder, ready to shake that little fucker awake and tell him to hurry up so they could go the fuck home…

… he paused.

Moxxie's cheeks were flushed pink… and stained with tears.

The CEO's hand shook. Should he awaken his employee of the month, tell him to hurry the…

No, what the fuck was he thinking? Moxxie was clearly fucking exhausted, and presumably distressed, and, even if he liked being a fucking prick to Mox, even he would only go so far…

Instead, his hand lowered itself - gently - onto his employee's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately before he quickly pulled away, as if he'd been burned.

In addition, because the office wasn't as warm in the evening, Blitzo shrugged his jacket off and draped it over Mox's slender frame like a blanket.

He decided to let Moxxie rest a little while; not that Mox wouldn't get any sleep at home, obviously, but he hadn't the heart to move Mox yet, and risk disturbing him. After all, from the time he'd spent spying on them, he learned that Mox was the lighter sleeper out of M&M

Crimson Knolastname more likely than not played a role in that.

Blitzo opened his phone and quickly typed out a text to Millie.

B: Me adm Mox tsill ere. Il bing hm ovver inn abit. X

He sent it.

Millie didn't take long to reply.

M: thanks, B. Is Mox OK? He ain't been himself much these last few days. He's been stressing over the budget and staying up late. See you boys soon xx

Satisfied, he made himself a cup of coffee, checked the book was still in the safe, and made some haphazard attempt to reorganise his paperwork, all the while listening to his sharpshooter’s soft snores.

…

Twenty minutes had passed by the time Blitzo chugged the dregs of his coffee, and he couldn't think of much else to do - Mox was always the one who stayed late to do shit.

Blitzo looked at Moxxie, who was now shaking at his desk.

‘Odd, I gave him my fucking jacket…’

He ran across the office, on unusually soft feet, to Moxxie, hesitating when he actually approached his friend.

Did he wake him up?

No, fuck it. He'd just pick him up, take him out to the fucking van. If that little shit complained…

Pulling the chair back, Blitzo used a hand to scoop under Moxxie's thighs, the other cradled his back, and he hoisted Mox up so his head was nestling against Blitzo's neck.

“Hey shitbag,” he said mischievously. “Gonna take ya home to your hoe now, m'kay?”

He was surprised when he felt the sharpshooter relax against him, nuzzling his neck like a sleepy cat.

Blitzo let out an involuntary purr at that, but it was… nice.

He allowed a hand to snake up and ruffle Moxxie's hair affectionately as he began the walk out of his office and towards the elevator.

No way was he walking down the fucking stairs carrying MoxMox!

Blitzo pressed the button for the ground floor, and heard the lift clank from somewhere above them.

Ah, fuck - he really hoped this shitbox didn't get stuck again - there'd been too many instances of the staff getting stuck - like poor Loonie getting claustrophobic and ripping the door open after half an hour of having panic attacks.

Or Moxxie getting stuck for two hours whilst getting office lunches and how by the time he was freed by the fucking Fire Brigade, all the food had to be microwaved to be semi-edible.

Blitzo shook his head, and tapped his foot, still cradling a sleeping sharpshooter in his arms - like the big fucking baby he was.

Blitzo's jacket was still draped over Mox's shoulders - but he decided he'll grab it back once he dropped Mox off and head for home. He wanted to see Loona and sleep, and unless Millie offered him their couch for the night he wasn't going back to M&M's place to annoy them tonight.

‘At last, that fucking thing is here,’ thought Blitzo, as the elevator clunkered to a stop on their floor, the doors moving open like a grandma's embrace.

He stepped in and the elevator closed, enveloping him and Mox in total darkness.

Wonderful. The fact the lights were out in this thing was surely a good sign. Not.

Chapter 15: Trapped!

Summary:

Part 2 of 3.

Moxxie and Blitzo find themselves stuck aboard the IMP elevator, and unwanted hard truths start revealing themselves...

Crap, crap, crap!

They were fucking stuck!

Blitzo repeatedly jammed his finger into the ground floor button in the vain hope of forcing the elevator to start up again.

It had been going fine… till they got stuck between the 5th and 4th floors.

“Fuck!” Blitzo snapped, forgetting for a moment he wasn't alone - which was kinda stupid, as he was still holding the elevator's second occupant in his arms.

At his shoulder, he heard a faint moan, followed by a sleepy “...Sir? What's going on?”

“We're fucking stuck in the elevator, Mox.” Blitzo sighed. He heard fabric hit the floor, and he sighed, irritated.

Now his jacket was on the fucking piss-stained floor of this fucking useless bucket of shit!

“Sorry, Blitzo…”

“It's fine, Mox.” Blitzo huffed. It wasn't really, but, what else could they do?

He had to put Mox down on his feet as his arms were starting to cramp.

“Would you mind me asking how we got stuck, Sir?”

“I have a fucking name, Mox, use it.” Blitzo replied, irritated, but nonetheless began to recount the evening so far.
…

By the time Blitzo explained to Mox how he'd found him sleeping at his desk, snoring over the company budget, the weapons expert was cringing - more so than usual.

More so since the further Blitzo got in the explanation, the more antsy he got - which worried him, as he knew what Blitzo's temper could be like, and whilst he could normally escape to another room to avoid it, he couldn't move anywhere else right now.

“Sir, I'm so sorry, I'm not sure why I fell asleep at my desk, I just -”

“Save it, bitch, apologies aren't gonna get our asses out of this fucking pissbucket!” Blitzo snarled, kicking the elevator. “Someone let us the fuck out of here!” He screamed.

Moxxie shrank back in terror at seeing his boss so pissed off, and having nowhere to retreat to.
Hoping to try calm Blitzo down, somewhat, seeing as he couldn't just leave, Moxxie bravely spoke up last,

“Sir, maybe we should -”

“Mox, stop bitching and come up with something useful!”  Blitzo snapped, his fist colliding with the side of the lift. He swore at the pain that resulted; as if he'd been bitten by some animal.

However, a glance in the elevator mirror revealed a pale and shaking Moxxie, who looked ready to cry and yet not quite letting go - clearly out of fear of verbal or physical punishment, that made him feel as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

Blitzo was suddenly reminded of his own youth, in which Cash Buckzo constantly got in his face and belittled him, and jerked him this way and that as if he was some puppet!

Blitzo still remembered the tears, the churning guilt of being the useless son, of feeling like he would never be good enough, he would never meet his father's impossible expectations -

A look at Moxxie's teary, shame-filled eyes tugged at his heart, and he felt remorseful for losing his shit.

“Mox…” he started, awkwardly. “Hey, I… ah, fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of what to say. “Did… did I hurt ya?”

He wasn't sure why he asked, he hadn't aimed either the kick or punch in Moxxie's direction, and he had put Mox down before he started hitting the wall.

Moxxie shook his head, unable to utter a word. His eyes were fixed on his hooves.

Blitzo swore to himself. Fuck. He should've known better than to scream like that - or kick and punch the elevator! Doing so with a traumatised veteran of child abuse present hadn't been a smart move - or a kind one.

Silently, he reached a hand towards Moxxie's, offering both an apology and a feeble, but sincere, attempt at comfort.

“Look, I'm…” he took Moxxie's hand in his own, giving those clammy fingers a clumsy but heartfelt squeeze. “There, I fucked up, kay? I of all people should know not to… y'know.” He sighed. He really did feel shit for scaring poor Mox like that, but, trying to pin his ever-swirling emotions with words?

Blitzo had never been very good at that.

He just hoped his sharpshooter would understand.

…

Moxxie stared at those long fingers, holding his own, before a thoughtful look came over his face, which the older imp recognised.

“I see you wanna ask something. Spill.” Blitzo sighed.

“Were you… ever forced into small spaces as a child?” Moxxie asked thoughtfully. “You seem… agitated.”

“How do ya mean? Did he lock me in a fucking closet or something?”

“Yes. Like… like that.” Moxxie said, uneasily. Little did Blitzo know just how close to home he'd hit.

…

Blitzo could appreciate that his friend did not need to ask who ‘he’ was - for ever since their run-in with Crimson Knolastname earlier this year, they both developed an understanding about ‘daddy issues.’

He thought for a moment.

“Eh, we didn't have a closet, not those big wooden things for clothes, but my old man had these cabinets for making people disappear for magic shows. He'd threaten to lock me in those and make me disappear - along with other threats - if I stepped out of line,” a sorrowful look crossed his face, and he slumped to the floor, no longer caring about the piss smell.

“I used to be fucking terrified of not seeing my sister or Fizz or my mom, or my horsie friends ever again… whenever he made those threats. Now I sometimes wonder if he should've made good on his threat, if he could.” Blitzo mumbled into his knees, staring at his boots.

Christ on a stick, he hated being so fucking honest about his fucking feelings! He especially hated admitting how his old man had made him feel, both then and now.

But he did enjoy ranting to M&M about how much of a bastard Cash Buckzo was (that part was fun, at least)

Still, it was a fucking rarity that Blitzo ever made those disclosures - and he only confided in Mox about it - cos they both had issues with abusive fathers, so Moxxie wasn't a judgemental little prick about his feelings.

He was thus surprised when he felt a warm weight settle next to him. He didn't think Moxxie would want to be near him after his explosive fit earlier, but…

“How long do you think it'll be before we get out, Sir?” Moxxie asked, his head on Blitzo's shoulder.

“Pfft, it'll be all fucking night, probably.” Blitzo snorted, a hand reaching up to stroke Moxxie's horn reassuringly, ready to pull away if the younger imp objected.

Moxxie looked troubled at that proclamation.

“Hey, c’mon, Mills is a big strong bitch, she'll survive one night without ya.” Blitzo teased, his hand shifting away from the horn so he could throw his arm around Moxxie's shoulder in a friendly manner.

His smile faded when he saw Moxxie's still-troubled face. “Hey, what's up with ya?”

The lift creaked and groaned, and Blitzo growled in response. That didn't sound good.

“Shall we phone for help?” Moxxie asked. This wasn't what he was going to ask before, but he didn't fancy either of them trying to escape by themselves.

Blitzo didn't like the odds of being stuck in this thing. But, it seemed he relished the idea of a self-rescue even less.

“Do we even have signal in this fucking thing?” He asked. “My phone's low on battery again.”

“No surprise,” Moxxie sighed as he dug his phone out of his pocket, hands shaking all the while. He switched it on, and grimly shook his head.

“Fuck. Didn't think so.” Blitzo mused. “Phone the Fire Brigade.”

Moxxie did, tapping in the number with clammy fingers before a bored voice answered

“What service do you require…?”

“... hello… yes, my boss and I are trapped in I.M.P… yes, the elevator stopped working between floor 4 and 5… thank you, bye.” He turned to Blitzo. “Help is on the way, Sir.”

“Thank fuck.” Blitzo grunted. “Did they say how long?”

“Are… are you claustrophobic?” Moxxie asked.

“No. Just been reminded of my old man.” Blitzo replied grumpily. “What about you, Mox, are you good?”

“Yeah… I just don't like this…”

“Relax, shitstick, we're sticking this out till we get rescued, yeah? Then we can laugh it off later!”

Moxxie nodded uncertainly.

“Just chill, m’kay?” Blitzo nodded. “We might as well nap or something till help arrives.”

Moxxie thought Blitzo was going to throw in a teasing jibe about him being caught sleeping on the job earlier, but this didn't happen.

He was a little more worried about that than he'd like to admit.

Blitzo settled down to snooze, and Moxxie decided to follow suit, snuggling into his boss's side for warmth (and maybe a bit of comfort as well).

“Sir?”

“What, Mox?”

“Your dad is a fucking asshole.” Moxxie said simply. “I know how it feels, being threatened with separation from family… I'm sorry you had to endure that - especially with what actually happened to Fizzaroli and your sister.”

Blitzo felt uncomfortable at the reminder, but noted that Moxxie was being sympathetic about the matter, so just muttered a quiet “Thanks.”

“Do… Do you feel any better?”

Blitzo shrugged. “A little.”

“In that case, sleep well, Blitzo.”

“You too, bitch boy.”

Moxxie grunted to himself at hearing that, and closed his eyes.

Moxxie smiled sadly.

Being in this elevator brought back some unpleasant memories… the smell especially…

Hoping his mind would avoid darker paths, Moxxie snuggled up to Blitzo and drifted off to sleep - trying to think of anything other than Crimson Knolastname.

Surpisingly, the last thing he felt before he drifted off was a muscular arm draping itself over his torso in a protective manner.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you all for Part 3!

Chapter 16: Out of the Closet

Summary:

Part 3 of my Trapped! arc. Thank you so much for your comments and kudos so far! ^^

Also, I had a reviewer ask for a link to the artwork - so I've left the link below. Credit goes to the artist, though I'm afraid I'm not sure who it was. (I did have a look) but it's not mine, I'll make that clear now.

If anyone knows or finds out, give me a shout, please?

But to whomever did this awesome art - thank you for creating something so wholesome and for inspiring my story! <3

Anyways, link is here:

 

https://pin.it/4723L3T

Enjoy!

When Moxxie woke up with a start, he realised the elevator was cold - in fact, it somehow felt colder than it had been when he was asleep.

Shivering, he tried to press himself closer to his boss, professionalism be damned, but Blitzo grunted and rolled away from him.

“Not now, Stolas…”

“Sir?” Moxxie touched Blitzo's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake, “Sir, are you OK?”

Blitzo let out a loud snore in response. Well. The asshole wasn't dead, at least.

Moxxie sighed, and sat upright, before deciding to check his phone - for both a signal and the time.

It was a quarter past midnight.

No signal still.

He couldn't call anyone. Not Millie, not his musical theatre friends… no one…

He reproachfully kicked Blitzo in the ankle when the older imp began snoring really loudly. He didn't kick hard enough to cause any damage, not that he was capable of inflicting much anyway - but hopefully hard enough for his boss to change position and stop snoring.

Or wake up and decide to kill him for doing that - put him out of his fucking misery.

But Blitzo didn't stir.

…

“What in the name of Mammon were you doing last night?!”

…

Crimson.

Fuck, fuck, fuck - snap out of it Moxxie, snap out of it -

But he couldn't - try as he might, he got sucked back into the awful memory of the night he was forced to ‘come out’.

It was the reason he hated being in small spaces…
…

“Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -”

A loud slap sent him sprawling to the floor, followed by a swift kick to his balls.

“Ow! Sir-!”

“Shut up, you useless piss-stain son of a bitch!” Crimson roared. “You're my only son, Moxxie Knolastname, and I fucking expect you to marry and bear a son to take over from you so I can pass the organisation on to you as I get older!”

“Sir, I-”

“But you just had to turn out to be a fucking faggot, didn't you?!” Crimson kicked Moxxie in the balls again, this time purposefully aiming for his dick as well. “Guess you won't be needing these now that you're fucking another man!”

“Sir, I can explain- ow!” Moxxie whimpered as Crimson grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet, before dragging him to the hallway.

“Seeing as you came out of the closet, so to speak, Moxxie -” here, Crimson chuckled. “Then I might as well throw you back in!” He threw Moxxie in the closet, and after one last slap across the face for ‘good measure’, he had Alessio lock the door.

This had only been a few months after Moxxie's 18th birthday, when he started dating Chazwick Thurman.

Poor Moxxie had wept for half the night, and was not only starving when he woke up, he had wet himself during the night, due to not having access to a bathroom.

That only got him beaten again, and further verbal abuse and ridicule from the man he was forced to call ‘father.’

…

“...Mox?”

Moxxie jumped as he felt a hand touch his knee.

“Hey, it's only me.”

It was Blitzo, on his knees, looking over at Moxxie with unusually soft eyes.

To his horror, Moxxie felt his eyes filling with tears, and he tried to wipe them away desperately with the heel of his palm. He hated crying in front of authority figures - but he had cried in front of Blitzo before, who was reasonably nice about it.

Sure, he got teased for crying about silly things like a stubbed hoof, but Blitzo was alright if you were upset about something more serious, if a bjt awkward about actually providing comfort.

“Hey, hey, what's the matter with ya?” Blitzo asked, shifting closer to his employee.

Moxxie sniffed. “I'm sorry, Sir, I just -”

“Mox, drop whatever bullshit you were going to say and just be honest with me.”

The tone in his boss's voice was earnest. Moxxie risked a glance at him, to see a concerned expression on his face.

He debated telling him.

On the one hand, no one had heard this memory - he hadn't even told Millie this story before. In fact, even Chaz, whom he had met with two days after that fateful night, didn't know the specifics of that night - just that “Dad didn't take it well.”

He'd had to tell him something as he'd gotten bruises and cuts as a result. Not that Chaz wasn't aware of the situation at the time.

On the other hand, perhaps it would do him some good getting it off his chest. And whilst he and Blitzo were as different as night and day, and they argued to no end, Moxxie trusted him.

After all, Blitzo had helped him out when he had nothing but the prison jumpsuit on his back, and had his back ever since - even risking his life to help Millie save him from his father and Chaz.

Moxxie made a decision.

“I'll tell you, Sir, but you must promise me you will not repeat a word of it to anyone unless I give permission.” He said firmly.

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” Blitzo asked, annoyed.

“I'm sorry,” Moxxie sighed. “I know I can trust you, Blitzo, and I do trust you - it's just… it's just this memory is one of the most hurtful and painful memories that I have, alongside finding out he killed my mom.” He sighed.

…

If Moxxie was comparing the pain of anything to the pain he felt about his beloved mother’s death it had to be serious.

Blitzo silently nodded, before hooking his employee by the armpits and lifted him up.

“Alright, c'mere.” He sighed.

…
?
Moxxie squeaked in surprise, before settling into a stupefied silence as he realised he was now sitting on his boss’s lap, strong arms wrapped around his skinny frame.

He was about to protest this, when, beside his ear, came a soft solemn, “Mox, whatever you say to me will not be repeated.”

It did feel kind of… nice? Being held like this, that was. It felt… familial, rather than sexual - which was odd-ish for Blitzo.

He did call them family, after all. But… he was also a perverted weirdo who watched them sleep and…

Moxxie did try to remind himself they weren't family at all… but, surprisingly, he felt as if his heart had been cut with a knife. He stubbornly pushed that thought away.

“O-ok, I trust you,” Moxxie answered, before taking a deep breath.

“So, about two months after my 18th birthday - which, by the way, was the same day as my initiation into ‘The Family’ - my father found out about Chaz and I… dating…” he shuddered. “And he… he went ballistic.”

“What did he do?”

“If you'll pardon the language, Sir -”

“Mox, just swear for fuck’s sake, I've got no room to complain about you doing it.” Blitzo huffed, before catching Moxxie's glare. “Sorry. Do carry on, Mox, you don't need to… hold back, around me.”

“Thank you.” Moxxie cleared his throat and continued, “he beat the shit out of me, Sir. He called me names, he… threatened me, frightened me… and then…” Moxxie choked back a sob. “he… he shoved me in a closet and locked me in all night long…”

Moxxie broke down in tears, suddenly feeling exhausted after finally getting that painful, heartbreaking burden off his chest.

He couldn't bear to finish the story - the part about wetting himself and being fucking ridiculed for it, even though it was technically Crimson's fault he couldn't -

It turned out he didn't need to say another word.

“Mox.”

“Yes, Blitzo?”

“Should we ever cross paths with your old man again…” Blitzo paused, impressively. “then I'll blow out his fucking brains and dick and use them as fucking wallpaper - see if he can appreciate body part decor then.”

A wet laugh sputtered out from his employee. “I - I appreciate you saying so, Sir.”

“Mox, I'm serious,” Blitzo replied, his tone softening. “Look, I know I'm an asshole to ya, but I'm usually just messing with ya, I won't -” he sighed, struggling to verbalise his feelings. “Your dad is a fucking asshole and I'm sorry you ever ended up being his son, you - you deserve better…”

Moxxie looked at his boss, surprised. “You - you mean that?”

“Yeah - just don't be a sappy shit about it.” Blitzo retorted. His eyes held an anguished look in them though - as though he couldn't believe Moxxie still thought of himself as worthless.

“For all our arguing, Sir and your- spying-”

“Moxxie, I told you, cut that shit out-”

“-You're the first person who found any value in me as a person since my mom died.”

Blitzo felt as if he had his breath knocked out of him.

“Alright, Mox, seriously, stop it,” he said, annoyed. He had run out of steam regarding their little heart to heart, let down his guard for too long. The shields were snapping back up again.

“Sorry.” Moxxie looked down at his knees sheepishly. “It's just - if you hadn't helped me, I wouldn't have what I have now - I wouldn't have my hobbies, my home, my friends, you, or Millie.”

“Suppose not.” Blitzo mused. “Still, you have been a help to me too - with the company and making sure my stupid ass doesn't die on the job.”

“It's a pleasure to oblige, Sir - erm, Blitzo.” Moxxie smiled.

Blitzo smiled too, before ruffling Mox's soft white hair. “Alright, ya sappy bitch,” he grinned, his eyes nonetheless sparkling with gratitude. “Now do me a favour, Mox, and shut the fuck up and sleep or something till we get help.”

“Right, Blitzo.” Moxxie rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“One more thing.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“What time is it?”

Moxxie turned his phone on. “Sir, it’s half past 1 in the morning.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Blitzo grumbled. “Loonie will be worried about me.”

“I'm sure she'll be alright, Sir.” Moxxie replied.

“Yeah - I did tell Loonie I'd be late back.”

“I told Millie that too.” Moxxie replied. “I didn't expect to be this late though.”

“Not a fucking word about overtime, bitch, or else.” Blitzo warned, using his fingers to ‘zip lips’.

Moxxie shrugged and the pair curled up on the floor again, too exhausted to care about the state of the floor.

“Good- goodnight, Blitzo.” Yawned Moxxie.

“Night, Mox.” Blitzo replied wearily. The pair snuggled close like kittens, before nodding off once more, feeling comforted by the other’s presence.

…

By nine the next morning, the pair had been released by the Fire Brigade (Blitzo flipped them off as a “Thank you” much to Moxxie's chagrin) and were both on their fourth cups of coffee, complaining of sore backs.

Loona laughed and called them both old men; but nonetheless used BeeEats to order lunch for the group for once - whilst Millie tried to gently coax the pair of them into some gentle exercise to try and get their limbs going again.

In addition, as Moxxie and Blitzo were too sore and exhausted to venture to the human world, they were left in the office, where they took turns sleeping and wearily answering calls, whilst Millie and Loona went on hits.

The boys were fine with this arrangement, as not only could they rest, but confessing some of their darkest secrets in the elevator had made them more comfortable around the other, so they did not feel the need to be guarded like they normally were.

Chapter 17: Home Invasion

Summary:

Blitzo happens to be in the right place and in the right time to help his friends, and they help him in return.

Notes:

I know it's been a while since I wrote for this fandom; and I've just been stuck for ideas. Found this old idea to polish up though, so here we are :p

Enjoy! :)

Moxxie groaned as he pulled his pillow over his head.

Whatever the fuck Blitzo was doing to their living room…
This had been going on for about fifteen minutes, at least.

With a groan, Moxxie grabbed his phone, ready to text Blitzo a warning about smashing up the apartment wasn't tolerated, when he heard an unfamiliar voice.

Oh, crumbs.

Sounded like they were being robbed. Not that there was much to rob, but -

Was Blitzo even here?

Quickly, Moxxie's free hand shook Millie awake, who grunted.

“What… what is it hon?” she mumbled into her elbow.

Moxxie was about to answer when they heard a gunshot, along with a “You fucking…”

Okay, he was here. And most likely in trouble.

Millie was sitting up, alert now. Her body twitched with anticipation of a fight. Her tail swished back and forth dangerously, like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

 

“That sounds like Blitzo.” she said, alarmed. “But what's he -”

A second gunshot rang out.

“I guess we better find out,” Moxxie replied dryly, grabbing a M16 rifle from his bedside before heading to the bedroom door.

Millie grabbed some newly-acquired push daggers from the wall and ran to the door to join her husband.

They tiptoed along the landing to the stairs, Moxxie was in the lead, because if the intruder was armed with a gun as well; he could defend Millie from a distance, and allow her to get close enough to inflict damage without getting hurt herself.

…

As they cautiously made their way downstairs, they heard a third gunshot, a muffled curse, and then a punch.

Then, a familiar voice crowed triumphantly.

"Hah, thought ya could fuck about with MY friends, asshole? Yeah, well, ya thought wrong, bitch."

Another gunshot rang out, and then there was silence.

As the two got halfway down the stairs, they saw their boss standing over a corpse of a male imp. Blood, bone fragments and brain matter spattered the walls.

"Sir?!" Moxxie asked, alarmed. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, bitches!" Blitzo huffed, flipping his employees off. "But to answer your question, this fucker was tryin' to rob ya both. Good thing I was making coffee." He chuckled weakly. Sure enough, there was a broken coffee mug by the door, and coffee stained the carpet.

Moxxie reddened when he realised what mug it was his boss had been using - it was a mug Millie had gotten him for Hellentine's Day, which read ‘My Hubby = My Bitch.” (Questionably objectifying, but Moxxie didn't care.)

He was ready to tell Blitzo off for using his mug (he hoped it was just shock talking, what a strange thing to worry about when your boss had just broken into your apartment - again - and redecorated the wall with B n’ B (a delightful colloquialism from Millie referring to ‘Blood and Brains’) but it was then that he noticed that his friend was clutching his arm gingerly.

"Fuck - Sir, ye're bleedin'!" Millie exclaimed in alarm, slipping past her husband to check on their boss.

"Mills, stop the bitching, I'm fine." Blitzo grunted. "Mox, call her off, can't ya?"

Moxxie shook his head. "Sorry, Sir, but your arm needs checking. We don't want to risk infection." He said, making his way downstairs to join them.

Blitzo hissed in pain as Millie gently took his arm in her hands, to examine the wounds.

"Shit - Mills - let go, whore!" Blitzo swore.

"Shush, B, hold still," Millie said soothingly, as Moxxie came for a look.

"It looks deep, Sir," he said, grimly. "This might take a while."

"Fuck!" Blitzo swore again.

"Hey, B, it'll be OK," Millie cooed, cupping her friend's face in her hand, tenderly stroking his scar with her thumb. "We'll look after ya."

…

Moxxie quickly disinfected and dressed Blitzo's wounds - but there remained the problem of the living room.

"Sorry," Blitzo chuckled sheepishly. "I uh… got a little carried away there."

"Fuck," Moxxie muttered. "I suppose we should get started…"

"Eh, leave it till tomorrow." Blitzo said dismissively. "I'll help you hoes with it."

"Any help would be appreciated, Sir." Moxxie replied, already wondering if Blitzo would actually help. "We're just glad you didn't die."

"Yeah, well, wouldn't do to die in the home of my favourite whores." Blitzo teased.

"Blitzo, you saved us tonight." Moxxie said gratefully. "We could have been killed in our beds if you hadn't been lurking around… again."

"No worries, Mox! No one misses with M&M and gets out alive on my watch!" Blitzo stated proudly, ignoring the shift in Moxxie's tone.

Moxxie rolled his eyes, annoyed, but not as much as he would normally be.

“Would you like some fresh coffee, Sir? Provided you don't go apeshit on our apartment again.”

Millie snorted.

Blitzo just held up his newly bandaged arm, in a sling. “In your wet dreams, bitch!” He retorted.

“I'll make your coffee, Sir, but expect no fancy coffee art form me,” he snapped.

“Aw, no horsie?” Blitzo mock-pouted.

“Absolutely not!” Moxxie snapped, flouncing off to the kitchen.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Mox!” Blitzo retorted. “Better yet, I hope you do it on a fucking cactus!”

Moxxie had no retort to that, so he just let out an indignant shriek from the kitchen. He had no idea that, just for a moment, Blitzo had let a small, fond smile escape him. 

Chapter 18: Horse Riding Lessons

Summary:

Blitzø decides to introduce Moxxie to horseriding, so the boys head over to Wrath! Will poor Moxxie survive? (Part 1 of 3!)

Business had been slow at I.M.P, so Blitzø decided to give the whole team a week off to recuperate.

However, Moxxie wanted to tie a few loose ends up before going off for the week, so he (and a reluctant Blitzø) had come in for one morning.

Blitzø decided to try to do something semi-useful, so he disappeared to his office and left Moxxie alone for an hour and a half - a record.

In that time, Moxxie signed and filed away his remaining paperwork in chronological order so he didn't have to worry about it when he got back.

However, upon opening the filing cabinet, he accidentally found two of his boss's plush ponies lurking at the bottom of the drawer; one was a gorgeous black with a black, sparkling mane and tail, and sapphire blue eyes; the second was white with a gold mane and tail, and ruby red eyes.

“Why, Blitz?” Moxxie sighed crossly. He retrieved the ponies regardless and closed the cabinet before locking it, tucking the key in his pocket.

He then went to knock on his boss's door -  where he found that Blitzø had been scrawling agendas for their next working day, albeit in messy handwriting; sorting out shit in his desk drawers - there were now 2 packs of bullets he bought for his percussion pistol last month (and subsequently lost them the next day) along with a pile of loose change; and his pony collection, which he was organising into some unfathomable order.

“What do ya want, Mox?” Blitzø drawled, annoyed when he saw his employee hovering in the doorway.

"Sir, I don't understand how you are so… disorganised." Moxxie huffed, gliding in like a ghost, eyeing the shit that Blitzø had pulled out of his desk; he could now see loose paper clips, several broken or lost phones no longer lost; receipts for iced coffee from Hellbucks, or for lunches from Sub's Way; unpaid parking tickets; some old drawings of horses and the group, and of Stolas; some "scientific research"...

"Not my biggest fucking issue!" Blitzø retorted.

Moxxie sighed. “Seems to be, seeing as you're going around in your desk.” He retorted.

“Yeah, well, I found those bullets I thought I lost.” Blitzø remarked sheepishly.

“You stress me out, Sir.” Moxxie replied dryly.

“Mox, I stress everyone out.” Blitzo replied sassily. “Now, is there a reason you're here or are you just going to criticise the contents of my fucking desk?”

“As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, Sir, I came to return these to you.” Moxxie placed the ponies on the desk and watched his boss's face light up.

“You fucking found them!!” He shrieked gleefully. “Where were they?!?”

“In the filing cabinet, so I know you've not been filing paperwork away.” Moxxie scowled. “Otherwise, you'd have found them yourself.”

“Why are ya such a fucking party pooper, bitch?” Blitzö huffed, joy evaporating to annoyance like mist in the morning sun. He examined the ponies as if they were priceless gems - maybe to him, they were. "Now I can't remember what names I gave these two!" His eyes began watering.

'For fuck's sake, Sir!' Moxxie thought irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. But, he hadn't the heart to say as such to this strange man, (even if Blitzø was pissing him off again) so he asked,

"Couldn't you give them new names, Sir? Maybe they'll fancy a change.” He suggested, cringing.

"Maybe…" Blitzø said, thoughtfully. Then, his face brightened. "I might get some inspiration this afternoon!"

"Why this afternoon?"

"Soo, Mox, you want to make your boss happy, don't ya?" Blitzø asked nonchalantly, watching as Moxxie's face instantly soured.

The weapons specialist sensed where this was heading, and he wasn't in the mood to have a reasonably nice morning spoiled by his man whore of a boss.

"Sir, for the millionth time, no. For the love of Satan, no." Moxxie answered, checking the assault rifle that suddenly appeared in his hands to see how many bullets were in it. "Another word, and I'm using you for target practice." He warned.

"You haven't even heard what I was going to ask!" Blitzø protested. "And if you shoot me, bitch, you're fired."

"I don't need to hear what you're going to ask, because I know you!" Moxxie snapped.

"God-fucking-dammit, Mox, you baby dick, I just wanted to ask if you want to hang out!" Blitzo retorted, exasperated.

"Doing what?" Moxxie asked sarcastically, crossing his arms. "It better not involve any beds, desks or walls. Or the van."

"How about hay?" Blitzo asked cheekily, to which Moxxie, more pissed off than usual, suddenly flipped him off and prepared to storm out of the office.

Not that he could rant to Millie; she was meeting Sallie Mae - who had come up from Wrath for the weekend - for lunch and then they were going to a boxing ring afterwards; and Loona was hanging out with Princess Octavia at the mall.

"Especially not hay, Sir!" Moxxie snapped, aiming his assault rifle at Blitzø's shoulder.

"Put the gun down, bitch!" The boss imp barked. Moxxie pouted, and obeyed. "Christ on a stick, Mox, I was fucking kidding! I was gonna suggest taking you horse riding in Wrath!" Blitzo huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

Moxxie froze in his tracks as the words bounced off the office walls. "Horse riding, Sir? As in, just, horse riding? No… no rolling around in the hay or anything?"

"Fuck no, that shit's uncomfortable." Blitzo remarked.

"Wait, what?" Moxxie blinked, this statement taking too long to sink in. He saw his boss mouth 'smooth brain' at him, and he put the gun down, muttering equally rude insults under his breath.

"I slept with this cute groom with a tight ass and a big dick at the stable I got horse riding lessons in, after I stole Verosika's car and bolted for Wrath." Blitzo answered nonchalantly. "Had hay in my ass for days after though, that was a fucking bitch to deal with."

"Sir… please, why did you have to put such an image in my head?" Moxxie whispered, horrified.

Blitzø shrugged a shrug that suggested he didn't care that he was an agent of chaos, he was and going to fucking make rhe most of it, and he stuck his tongue out at Moxxie. "Are you in or not?" He asked. “I wanna be outta here by half 10!”

It felt… kinda nice that Blitzo wanted to hang out with him?

Sure, he could've done without the arguing and shit, but, hanging out for the rest of the day seemed like it could be fun - well, more fun than being at a boxing ring with his wife and sister-in-law.

Besides, Moxxie wore his boss down to see ‘Cats’ so he figured he could…

"So, how about it?" Blitzo asked, interrupting Moxxie's thoughts.

"I've never ridden anything since that bull at Millie's parents' ranch." Moxxie admitted sheepishly, rubbing his arm.

"Not to mention your wife." Blitzo added, winking at his sharpshooter.

"I will kill you," Moxxie hissed. He wished Blitzo would JUST…  STOP… TALKING.

Blitzo held out his phone, unfazed. "So, can I put you down for a yes, bitch? I need to hurry up here." He tapped the screen with his thumb.

"... fine." Moxxie grunted. "I'm only going so I can find a secluded enough spot to kill you."

"Ohh, someone's a bloodthirsty little bitch today." Blitzo winked, sashaying his hips. "I'm actually way more excited now."

"Fuck you!" Moxxie stomped off out of Blitzø's office and slammed the door.

“Mox, I'm not impressed.” Blitzø told him, in between fits of giggles. He couldn't decide what was funnier - his fabulous jokes or Moxxie's reactions.

Then, a meek, "Sir, what does one wear for horse riding?"

"Let's go riding, bitch!" Blitzo whooped, grabbing his car keys. “And don't worry about the riding gear shit, MoxMox, we'll deal with that on the way!”

…

After making a quick stop to get some clothes suitable for riding, Blitzo floored the gas pedal, speeding out of Pride.

"Next stop - Wrath, bitch!" He shrieked delightedly, whilst Moxxie clung to his seat belt as though it would save him. This was drastic, even for him, as Moxxie normally had his hands on his head to try to muffle Blitzo's out-of-tune singing.

But, unfortunately for Moxxie, at the speed his idiotic dickhead of a boss was currently driving at, he figured he'd be most likely decapitated in an accident instead, and tried to hum a few bars from 'Phantom of the Opera' to distract himself.

It was mostly drowned by Blitzø singing (both very, very loudly, and very, very obnoxiously) ‘Pink Pony Club’, however, and Moxxie promptly decided he was done with existing.

…

At last, the pair were in Wrath, and Moxxie was very, very relieved when the van finally juddered to a halt.

"Howdy, Blitz!" A voice called out, and a pretty imp appeared in their line of sight. Her black horns were asymmetrical, one twisted to the side, another stuck straight up. She was dressed in a suede fringe vest, a white figure-hugging T-shirt; and baby blue denim shorts. Light brown cowgirl boots adorned her hooves.

"Howdy hi-hoe!" Blitzo roared in delight, running over to hug the female imp.

"Uh, do you guys know each other?" Moxxie asked, confused.

Blitzø laughed. "Hey, Mox, this is Dolly-Belle, she owns these stables, and she's a friend of mine!"

"Friend, Sir?"

"From college!"

"I still have a hard time believing you went to college…" Moxxie said darkly.

"Oh, he did, alright," Dolly-Belle told him. "He set the college toilets on fire before."

"Sure did!" Blitzø grinned.

"Why am I not surprised, Sir?"

"You, you little bitch, set my office on fire!" Blitzø jabbed a finger in Moxxie's chest.

"You burned down Loo Loo Land!" Moxxie countered, a little too loudly.

Dolly-Belle blinked.

"That was you?" She asked, wiping her hands on her shorts.

"Yeah…" Blitzo admitted sheepishly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Dolly-Belle laughed. "So what brings ya and yer pardner here, then?"

"Oh, no, I'm not - we're just-"

"Oh, don't be so modest, MoxMox!" Blitzo said teasingly, wrapping an arm around his sharpshooter and giving him a squeeze before pulling away to stretch his limbs. "Love ya, bitch!" Blitzo blew Moxxke a kiss.

"For the record Miss… erm, Miss Dolly-Belle, he's just my friend and my boss." Moxxie said firmly. "He's just speaking shit."

"I only meant 'pardner' as in-"

"I know you did, Doll," Blitzo said, giving her a charming smile. "I was just taking the opportunity to annoy the shit out of this guy." He slung his arm around Moxxie  - more as a brotherly gesture this time.  "This is Moxxie, he works for me at my killing biz-"

"Wait, ya actually got it going?" Dolly-Belle asked.

"Yeah! It's doing OK."

"Well, blow ma down with a rooster feather!" Dolly-Belle said, impressed. "It takes guts ta start up a business, especially fer us imps!"

"Don't I know it, whore." Blitzø replied, wearily. "Argued with a lot of pencil pushing ass-kissers to get my office approved."

"But ya did it!" Dolly-Belle grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, can ya hurry this up, bitch?” Blitzø asked her.

“Sure thing, dickhead!” Dolly-Belle answered. “Right this way!”

Moxxie followed the other two imps with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

Notes:

I know it's been a while, but I.just.got back into writing for HB again! Expect more updates soon!

Chapter 19: Blitzø's Sick Day

Summary:

Blitzø ends up sick. Moxxie ends up checking on him.

It was Wednesday morning in Hell, and M&M were preparing to go to work, as usual.

Moxxie smiled as Millie took over tying his bow tie.

“I can tie my own ties, you know,”  he smiled, amused.

“Ah know, it just feels nice to do,” she smiled. Then she slid a seductive finger down his chest, making him blush.

“Besides,” she added mischievously, “its fun getting ta-”

Suddenly Moxxie's pipe organ ringtone sounded and the two sighed.

“Blitzø?” Millie guessed.

“Most likely,” Moxxie replied through gritted teeth, already pulling his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and answering the call. “You rang, Sir?” He asked.

“Hey, Mox,” A sickly-sounding wheeze crackled on the other end of the phone.

Moxxie frowned in concern. “Sir, are you ok?” He regretted the question as soon as he asked - it was clear Blitzø wasn't ok - but his boss's reply had him even more worried:

“I'm - I'm too sick to work today. Could ya take over for me?”

The fact Blitzø hadn't even attempted to give him snark for the obviously dumb question he'd asked earlier made Moxxie feel even more worried about their friend.

“Of course, Sir.” Moxxie replied sympathetically, before hanging up.

“Is B ok?”

“He's sick,” Moxxie replied, biting his lip. “He wants us to handle things on our own.”

“Well, shit,”

“We can handle it. We better get a hold of Loona and make the most of today, for Blitzø's sake.”

“For fuck’s sake, honey, is he sick or dying?” Milkie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He's a man, Millie, the two are interchangeable.” Moxxie deadpanned.

Millie squealed with laughter, before grabbing Moxxie's hand and running through the streets of Imp City, making for I.M.P.

…

The day was fun, but relatively uneventful. Moxxie and Millie made 5 hits. They even allowed Loona to come with them on the last three hits, after the phone calls died down - they might not get along with her and vice versa, but they did feel bad for her being stuck behind a desk all the time.

And anyway, Blitzø wasn't there to skin their hides if anything happened to Loona (which nothing did, thank you very much!)

…

After work, Moxxie went home with Millie to make chicken soup for their boss, before heading over to Blitzø's apartment to drop it off (and check on the idiot at the same time.)

“Hope B’s OK.” Millie said to her husband as they hurried along the corridor to apartment 666.

“He'll be fine, Millie, it just sounds like a cold or the flu,” Moxxie tutted. He squeezed her hand regardless. “Though he'll feel better with some TLC.”

Millie nodded with a smile. Her MoxMox was so thoughtful!

They reached his apartment, and found him lying on the sofa, moaning like a man half-dying.

“Hey, M&M,” he waved at them weakly, before suddenly coughing violently. He made no attempts to ask about work or make a lewd comment.

Definitely sick.

“Fuck, being sick is fucking-terrible.” He coughed again.

“Poetic as ever, Sir.” Moxxie replied dryly, holding up the flask he'd brought. “Made you some soup.”

“Don't - need you - fussin’ over me, you baby dicked asshole.” Blitzø wheezed.

“Another masterpiece, as always.” Moxxie replied dryly. He was getting better at delivering a dry retort to Blitzo's comments - but he still had some work to do

“We came to see how ya are, B.” Millie said.

"I feel - shit, m'kay?” Blitzø retorted.

“We're trying to help you,” Moxxie replied with annoyance. He put the flask down on the coffee table and pressed his hand to Blitzø's forehead.

The moron was burning up.

“Fuck,” Moxxie muttered. “Millie, go check if he has any ibuprofen or -”

“Don't- “ Blitzo coughed, before burying his face into the arm of the sofa. “Don't have - anything - like that,”

Loona came out of her room then. “He gave me the last of the ibuprofen we had." She replied.

“Tylenol then?”

Loona shook her head.

“Ah can go out and get some,” Millie offered.

“I'll come with,” Loona replied, relieved. “I've no idea what to do - here.” She gestured to the couch where her adoptive father lay.

Moxxie sighed. He didn't want to be left alone with a sick boss, but he wasn't going to argue with his colleagues.

“Alright, be back soon,” he said instead.

“We will,” Millie promised, nuzzling her hubby's cheek.

“Don't kill him in the meantime.” Loona added, grabbing the van keys out of Blitzø's clothes, lying on the floor.

…

Once they'd gone, Moxxie turned his attention to his friend. He was shivering, and it was clear to see why - the horse themed blanket Blitzø normally used was puddled around his feet.

Moxxie reached out for one corner of the blanket, hoping his boss didn't accidentally kick him in the process.

He grabbed it and swiftly untangled it before draping it over Blitzø's body.

“Mox?”

“It's me, smooth brain,” Moxxie replied affectionately. “Just sleep, ok? I'll look after you.”

“Where's -” Blitzø weakly reached out an arm to cough into it. “Where's Loonie?”

“She and Millie went on a supply run, they'll be back soon.”

Moxxie wondered if he should mention Loona taking the van - but then either Blitzø or Loona might actually kill him, so he decided to keep quiet - for now, at least.

No need to stress the boss out.

Blitzø still looked worried, so Moxxie just lifted a hand to run it gently across his boss's horn - the only part of him that was still cool.

Blitzø began purring - but the purrs were weak and sickly.

‘Never thought I'd miss how much noise he normally makes,’ Moxxie thought glumly.

“Would you be up for trying to eat some soup, Sir?” He asked, reaching for the flask.

Blitzø shook his head, pointing instead to the bathroom, before giving Moxxie a pleading look.

Fuck.

But he couldn't risk letting him stand unaided like this - Blitzø was seriously ill and could collapse or vomit - or both and choke on his vomit, or -

Moxxie shook the worst-case scenarios out of his mind and turned to his boss. “I-I'll help you, ok? Just, lean on me Sir - erm, Blitz.” He soothed, hooking an arm under Blitzø's. “Come on.”

He helped his friend stand up as gently as possible, but by the time the two imps were upright, Blitzø was looking a little green around the gills.

“This way, Sir,” he said gently, leading Blitzø to the bathroom.

…

Moxxie had to come in with Blitzø, in case he fainted, but he tried to help whilst giving his employer some privacy.

“Better?” Moxxie asked, once Blitzø had been, and washed his hands after.

Blitzø shook his head, but tried to step forward, but swayed and threw up - all over the floor and the sink.

Moxxie wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell but tried not to let his boss see his face.

“Fuck… Mox,”

“It's OK, I've got you,” Moxxie replied soothingly. “I'll clean that up in a little bit, ok? Let's get you lying down first.”

“That'd be - hot -”

“If you weren't so virulent at the moment,” Moxxie retorted. “Come on, I'll help you back to the couch. Do you… need to throw up again?”

“Don't - think so,”

“I'll take this just in case,” Moxxie grabbed the bathroom trashcan before sliding Blitzø's arm over his shoulders. “Shall we head back?”
…

The two headed back to the couch. Blitzø didn't need to throw up again, fortunately, but it was painfully clear he was cold and in pain.

Moxxie settled his boss atop the cushions, tucked him in again, and sprinkled multicoloured pony plushies over him like he was decorating a cake; albeit a very strange, currently sickly and sweary cake.

He had just retrieved Spirit Jr. from the back of the sofa when he heard Blitzø whimpering. The blankets had been kicked down to his waist already.

“Blitz?” He asked, getting closer.

“Too - fucking - hot -” was the mumbled reply.  Moxxie tsked and was about to grab the blankets to tuck him again when something made him stop in his tracks.

“Barbie… Fizz… Mama,”

Moxxie froze, uncertain of what to make of what he'd just heard. Blitzø rarely ever spoke of his own mother, though Moxxie knew she'd passed away when Blitzø was a teenager.

He'd heard even less about Barbie - but he'd met her once, at that summer camp.

Uncertain of what else to do, he placed a hand back on Blitzø's horn and whispered, “Blitz, it's me, Moxxie, remember? You're at your apartment. I'm tending to you.”

A heart-wrenching sob.

“Hey, hey, it'll be OK,” Moxxie whispered, continuing to stroke his friend's horn. “I've got you, big guy.”

Blitzø opened a teary eye, and saw Moxxie hovering over him.

“MoxMox?” He whispered.

“It's me,” Moxxie gave him a reassuring smile. He decided not to bring up what had happened - that was clearly Blitzø's demons to deal with.

To his surprise, and alarm, Blitzø grabbed his wrist, just below the hand.

“Please, don't leave, Mox?” He asked quietly.

Moxxie glanced into Blitzø's eyes - wide, pleading, terrified - and his mind was made up.

“I won't, Blitzø,” he promised.

His boss relaxed at hat, before rolling over on the couch, as though to make room for one more.

Moxxie sighed. He was reluctant to do this, but he had just promised his friend he wouldn't leave, and anyway, he was likely to get sick now. He might as well do something useful in the meantime.

He laid down beside Blitzø, who immediately wrapped the pair up in his blankets before nestling his chin between Moxxie's horns.

Moxxie started when he felt a hand - strong, yet surprisingly gentle - press itself onto his chest, right over his beating heart.

Blitzø's other arm - and tail, were rapidly wrapping themselves around Moxxie, who just sighed. Clearly he wasn't getting to leave anytime soon.

What was even odder was that he didn't mind being cuddled by his smooth brain of a boss - even if said smooth brain of a boss was sick with the flu.

Nonetheless, Moxxie wrapped his arms around his friend, rubbing circles onto his back.

Blitzø cuddled closer to Moxxie with soft, wheezy purrs and drifted to sleep.

“Sleep well, Sir,” Moxxie replied affectionately before yawning. He hadn't realised how tired he was, but he'd done five hits today, along with some paperwork.

…

"Fuck, smells like fucking puke in here," Loona complained, as she opened the door to 666.

Millie bustled through the door, a pharmacy bag in hand.
“I'll go and put this away, and -” she stopped when she saw Blitzø cuddled up to her Moxxie on the couch, wrapped in a horse themed blanket. They were both snoring, unaware of their return.

“Aww!” She whisper-squealed, prompting Loona to look over as well.

“What?”

“Ain't the boys so cute?”

“Pfft. Losers,” Loona retorted. But Millie did not miss the small smile on her lips.

Millie went over to look at the boys. Blitzø looked awful still; but he looked more at peace cuddled up to her hubby; who was also pretty tranquil, for a man who had commented how ‘nice it was to have a quiet office for once.’

“They've missed each other, really,” Millie grinned at them adoringly - and she saw Loona take a photo with her phone.

“This is totally being used for blackmail material,” the Hellhound told her, awkwardly.

“Send me a copy?” Millie asked. “I'll keep it as a backup, in case Blitz decides he wants you to delete your copy.” she winked at Liona.

“I like your thinking." Loona sent Millie a copy on Sinstagram. “Neither of the Dumbass Twins need to know we both have a copy, or else they'll team up to get us to delete them.”

“Deal.” Millie replied, smiling affectionately as Moxxie's tail draped itself over Blitzø’s waist, and Blitzø's strong arms cradling I.M.P's sharpshooter.

Chapter 20: The I.M.P Prank War Begins!

Summary:

Blitzø pranks Moxxie. Moxxie declares war.

“Alright, bitches, I'm back!” Blitzø announced, kicking the door open as he announced it, before bounding theough and kicking the door shut behind him so hard the picture frames on the wall rattled.

“We can see that,” Loona commented, unimpressed. 

“Was there any need to come crashing in like that, Sir?” Moxxie asked, abandoning his mountain of paperwork to glare at Blitzø. 

“It's called ‘making an entrance’ bitch!” Blitzø snapped. He lifted the coffee cup holder he'd acquired.  

“Here you go, sweetie,” Blitzø reached into the drinks holder and pulled out a vanilla coffee before handing it to Loona. 

“Thanks, Blitzø,” Loona deadpanned; but there was a faint smile on her lips. 

“Here ya go, Mills,” Blitzø handed Millie her order next; black tea.

“Thanks, B!” Millie grinned, accepting the cup from him. As she did so, however, she noticed there was a 5th cup, tucked away out of sight beside an iced coffee and something else - Moxxie's order, probably. She frowned in confusion. She was about to ask Blitzø when he suddenly turned to Moxxie and went; 

“Here ya go, Mox!” Blitzø handed Moxxie his coffee next.

Moxxie eyed it suspiciously. “Erm, this isn't what I ordered,” he said politely. 

“I know, but the bitch barista couldn't be assed to make it,” Blitzo replied, and handed Moxxie the coffee. “I got you a salted caramel macchiato thing instead.” 

Moxxie was still pissed, but he decided that the offering was acceptable.

“Well, seeing as the possum baby is satisfied with his coffee sacrifice, better head to the office!” Blitzø grabbed his own order - iced coffee, of course - and shoved the drinks holder at Millie with a wink, and dashed off before any of them could say anything else.

“Weird,” Loona commented, scrolling on her phone as they heard the door slam shut.  

“Whatever, I do need a coffee,” Moxxie replied, and took a sip. 

At the exact same time, Millie noticed there was another cup nestled on its own. She read the black marker (salted caramel macchiato, No Extra Salt) 

“Erm, Mox-” but she was too late. 

Moxxie spat out his coffee, grimacing as if he'd just eaten a lemon. 

“Are you ok, hon?” Millie asked. 

“This coffee is saltier than the sea!” Moxxie complained. 

“You might wanna…” and Millie showed him the 5th cup. She did try not to laugh, realising what their boss had done. 

“What the fuck!?” Moxxie looked at the side of the cup he was holding, and saw the same thing scrawled on the side, except this one said ‘Extra Salt.’ 

“Blitzø!” he snapped. “What's the big idea!?” 

Blitzø called back through the closed door, amused, "I was fucking bored, and the baristas gave me two macchiato things instead of one, so thought I'd have a little fun with the spare!”

Moxxie scowled, and yelled “Chutzpah!” after their boss, who just chortled with laughter.

“What ya gonna do about it?!” Blitzø retorted, laughing. 

Moxxie had an evil grin on his face as he muttered, “Nekome, my dear boss, nekome,”

Then, he strolled off back to his desk, but not before accepting the last coffee from Millie, and promptly began burying himself in paperwork. 

…

“Erm, what was that about?” Loona asked Millie in confusion. 

“He's gonna get revenge on B,” Millie replied. 

“You know whatever the fuck that was.” 

“It's Yiddish, and I've picked up a little,” Millie replied. She didn't want to elaborate to Loona how she'd learned that particular word, however. (She had no interest in telling Loona about a particularly playful tickle night between her and her MoxMox) 

“Whatever, I don't care,” Sighed Loona. “I'm more interested in seeing how this will play out.” 

This gave Millie a little idea. “How about a little wager?” She asked. “Just to keep things interesting.” 

“Go on,” 

“Ten souls,” said Millie. “Ten to me if mah MoxMox wins, ten to you if your dad wins...”

“You do know Blitzø will win, right?” Loona asked, “He's literally chaos on two legs.” 

Millie couldn't deny that was true - but her man had been influenced by their boss more than he'd dare let on.

“I feel confident,” was all she said. 

Loona was about to scoff, but then, curiosity got the better of her. Had Fatty some secret prank streak she didn't know about? What if he did do something interesting? While shed not been interested in how her adoptive father had broken out of prison, along with Moxxie, she did remember hearing the latter had gotten particularly creative at times.

“Alright, grandma, you're on,” Loona agreed, and the pair shook hands. 

The I.M.P. prank war was on.