Chapter Text
You jump in your seat at Luna’s desk as the office door slams open, cursing under your breath as the movement caused you to spill coffee on the wood in front of you. The hellhound usually rolled into work whenever Blitzø did, and you often covered the phones until the two of them showed up. Still, after a few vague text messages from her this morning, you weren’t sure they were ever going to make it in.
So, you’re surprised to see Blitzø slouching into the office relatively early, Luna at his heel with her nose in her phone. The imp has dark sunglasses firmly in place on his face and a deep scowl marring his features. Between that and the extra-large coffee cup clutched in his hand, you decide against your usual morning greeting.
Moxxie, on the other hand, apparently has less reservations about kicking that particular hornet’s nest. “Good morning, sir. I need to talk to you about last night.”
“What?”
“As you may recall, I told you that our reservation last night was just for Millie and I, and—”
Blitzø’s scowl deepens. “Shut the fuck up, Mox.”
And with that, your boss stomps across the office and slams his own door behind him without so much as acknowledging the rest of you.
After a pregnant moment of silence, you vacate Loona’s seat and turn to the imps. “Okay, what the fuck did I miss last night?”
Millie frowns, her hand squeezing Moxxie’s shoulder. “Kind of… a lot.”
***
You raise a brow as the imp couple finally finish relaying everything you had missed at Ozzie’s the night before. Casting a glance towards Blitzø’s still firmly closed door, you nod slowly as you absorb the story. You take a sip of your now lukewarm coffee as Moxxie officially finishes his rant.
“So…” you say slowly, taking a seat on the sofa. “Did you thank him?”
“Did we what?”
“Thank him.” you repeat, holding up a hand when Moxxie opens his mouth to object. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s messed up that he was there, but to hear you tell it, you didn’t even know he was there until he stood up for you. In front of Verosika Mayday and that Fizzarolli guy. Two people he clearly has issues with.”
Millie casts her husband a guilty look, Moxxie still staring at you with one finger raised and his mouth hanging open with a forgotten argument.
“She’s got a point,” Loona interjects dryly without looking up from her phone.
“So…” you continue with a sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “He put his dignity on the line in front of you guys and Stolas and every other chuckle-fuck in that place, and guys are mad at him?”
“We told him—”
“I know what you told him. But you know what he’s like.” you interrupt, waving a hand at Moxxie. “And I’m sorry, but you’re the asshole who decided to sing a love song in the middle of the King of Lust’s own club. As romantic as that is, Mox, it was really dumb. Like, trying to get Mammon to participate in a charity drive dumb.”
Millie pouts thoughtfully, folding her arms across her chest. “I guess we didn’t think of it like that.”
“I’m just sayin’…” you shrug a shoulder, finishing off the last of your coffee. “You should take it easy on Blitzø, is all. He… means well.”
***
Living in hell isn’t exactly a picnic, but waking up that night to a violent thumping on the front door is still, thankfully, rare. Groaning in annoyance as you’re dragged unwillingly from the comfort of your mattress, you roll over to grope blindly for the baseball bat you keep under the bed. The pounding continues as you clamber out of bed and make your way blearily to the door on the other side of your studio apartment.
“Alright, asshole, I’m coming. For fuck’s—” you break off as you unlock the door and jerk it open. “Blitzø?! What in the ever-loving fuck are you—”
“The fuck did you do it for?”
Your frown deepens, confused and still half asleep. Still, you set the bat down and step aside to wave him into the apartment before the neighbors get involved. You flinch as he slams the door behind him. “Do what?”
“Don’t give me that shit!” he spits back at you, swaying slightly where he stands. Great, you have a drunk, angry Blitzø on your hands. “Tell me why!”
“Dude, it’s currently…” you sigh irritably, casting a glance towards the clock glowing on your stove. “…almost four in the morning. If you want me to understand what the fuck you’re talking about, you’re gonna have to be specific.”
He clenches his teeth together, his fists balled tightly. He grinds out the words, like it physically pains him to say anything at all. “That shit you said to Mox about me.”
“Oh.”
“The fuck d’you mean, ‘oh’?”
You rub the sleep out of your eye with the heel of your hand. Instead of answering, you turn and make your way back to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How’d you get here?”
“I— what?”
“Did Loona drop you off?”
Blitzø rolls his eyes, beyond irritated by the change of subject. “Christ on a stick, why does it matter? I fuckin’ drove myself, okay?”
“It matters because you are so not driving yourself home tonight.” you exhale, swinging your legs up onto the bed and pulling the covers up over your lap. “So, you comin’ to bed, or what?”
Blitzø jabs a finger at you belligerently. “You think you can just distract me by lettin’ me nail your sweet bitch-ass, is—”
“Fuckin’ Christ, Blitzø,” you shake your head, exasperated. “I said that shit because it’s true. You put your ass on the line to defend your friends in front of people from your past and Stolas! You did a nice thing because you’re a nice guy and I think you deserve credit for it! It’s not that deep!”
He stops as though you’d knocked the wind out of him, the anger smoothed from his features. Instead, he just looks… surprised. “…You think I’m nice?”
You sigh, patting the mattress beside you. “Just… let’s just sleep, alright? We’ll talk when you’re sober.”
He eyes you almost suspiciously for a long moment, fists still curled by his sides. You roll your eyes, making a show of laying back and making yourself comfortable. He groans dramatically, tossing his head back in an exaggerated eye roll before stomping over to join you. You close your eyes as he sheds his jacket and kicks off his boots, grumbling all the while. Still, you feel his bravado fail him as he reaches the bed, and he hesitates there at the edge of it until you lift the edge of the blankets for him.
Blitzø clambers up onto the mattress beside you, letting you fold the covers back over him. He shuffles closer to you awkwardly, and you feel his hand brush against your arm for a second before he pulls it away again. Reaching out, you catch it with yours, interlacing your fingers with his. You feel him stiffen for a moment before he squeezes it back.
“Can’t believe I finally got your hot little ass into bed and all we’re doin’ is holdin’ hands,” he mutters. He doesn’t, for once, actually sound like he’s complaining. “This is some M&M level bullshit.”
You hum in amusement, and even with your eyes closed, you can feel his face only inches from yours. “Trust me, Blitzø, when I do fuck your brains out, you’re gonna want to be sober enough to remember it in the morning.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then…
“When you WHAT?!”