#the scariest thing about Dark!Stolas is that he essentially acts very much the same as regular canon Stolas

[vizowrites]

What if one day Stolas makes an unexpected appearance at IMP and he doesnt know yet of the relationship between Blitz and Striker and he starts getting all touchy and baby talking him and Blitz is clearly uncomfortable and Striker is just like "bitch no" and goes ferral on Stolas

.....The smile I just got on my face from reading this. You are the best and thank you so much for this Love!! :D

[I went ahead and put in the break here because I ended up more or less writing a full oneshot for this and I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone’s feeds with just how long this thing is!!  I’M SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH!! ;-;  I really really hope you like it tho!!!!!  <3 <3 <3 <3 <3]

Here's the thing about life at I.M.P. lately: it just managed to get to a place that could kind of be called "normal".  Not “peaceful”--Satan no--there was absolutely no peace to be found in that office between Striker and Moxxie’s ongoing dick measuring contest [Striker was, in fact, bigger on all fronts as Blitz liked to point out regularly], Loona only ever being as helpful as she felt like at the time, and Blitz just being.....himself.  It wasn’t “peace”--it was chaos in its purest form.  

The strange thing was though, it was that very chaos that had become it's own kind of ‘normal’ for their team over the last few weeks.  No, not even “team” but......family.  It didn’t seem possible but that really was the most accurate way to describe what they were now.  Somehow, somewhere along the way, a former circus clown, two assassins, a Hellhound, and a hitman all managed to come together and form themselves into something that could actually be called a family.  And the even crazier thing was, even if they never acknowledged it out loud, they all knew it was true at the varying depths of their hearts. 

It had been a long time since Blitz had felt this sure that he was loved. 

“You alright there Darlin’?” 

Striker’s voice brought him back into the meeting room he only just then realized he was still sitting in--despite the fact that they’d wrapped things up about 5 minutes ago and everyone else except him and Striker had already filed out.  He knew that.  He totally knew that.  His ass just happened to want a few extra minutes of personal time with his chair was all.  

.....And yes, it was a lot easier for him to think about the bond between his ass and his chair than it was to think about the bond between himself and his new family.  Shut up, he wasn’t used to being this happy.

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about more shit,” Blitz replied with a small grin, the curve on his lips only growing when Striker reached into his pocket and flicked a coin to him with a playful smirk.  

He still had no idea why this was the inside joke they’d chosen to keep running with for this long, but he nonetheless felt the warmth bubble up in his chest the second the the coin landed in his hands.  It always took him back to the very first one that Striker had ever slipped to him on one of their first nights together when they were just hanging out on the couch and Blitz’s mind has drifted off to.....whatever the fuck it had gone to. Striker, being the smooth motherfucker he is, had drawn his attention back to their living room by simply pressing a coin to his palm.  “I know your thoughts ain’t this cheap,” he’d said, that sexy deep voice of his murmuring right into Blitz’s ear and making him instantly purr.  “But maybe you can take this as a down payment til I get my check from Joe and Lin next week.”  

Clever bastard had charmed him with good old fashioned capitalism--and it was still working for him even now.  Damn him.

“Just thinking about how fucking comfortable these chairs are in here,” Blitz said, pocketing the coin and giving a small stretch as he reclined back as far as the chair would let him--and then tested his luck by leaning back a fraction farther. “That and thinking about whether or not I want to fuck in here on our lunch break, or take things back to the office.”  He flashed a truly impish grin at that last bit, his tail flicking into a tantilizing arch.  “Still can’t quite decide yet.”  

Striker barked out a laugh in reply, not entirely sure that Blitz was telling the truth for what had distracted him so much but honestly was amused enough by the answer he got to go along with it for now.  He circled around the table to move behind Blitz’s chair, gazing down at his partner with a quirked eyebrow and [affectionate] smirk.  “You sure you’re feelin’ up to a full lunch break fuck?  You seem like you’re still stretchin’ out your back after the one we had just before the meetin’.”  

Striker’s tail flicked around from behind him to lightly poke at Blitz’s, the tip giving a playful rattle that no one other than his mate ever got to hear.  

“My back’s just been stupid lately--you know that,” Blitz replied with an equally playful tongue-flick, his tail coiling around Striker’s and giving a soft tug.  “I still think you threw it out fucking me into the desk yesterday.”  

“It’s been givin’ you trouble since before that,” Striker pointed out with a gentle tug in return to Blitz’s tail, even as the brief flare of the particularly unhappy thought of the time frame for Blitz’s back troubles--a few weeks prior, at the end of the month--sparked in his mind.  He wasn’t going to say it, he wasn’t going to even let himself think it more than he already had.  There was no room for disgusting rich pompous Goetias between them here in their own fucking office.  “You want me to try and rub it out for ya again?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Blitz insisted as he always did, reaching up to lightly brush back a stray strand of Striker’s hair that had managed to escape from beneath his hat when the snake imp had tilted his head to look down at him in the chair. “My back’ll figure out it’s life eventually.  But if you’re still looking for something to rub--” The grin spread across Striker’s face even before Blitz’s, gazing into each other’s eyes with the same wild passion.  “--I can think of something else that I wouldn’t say no to.”  

“That so?” The amusement that danced across Striker’s eyes was truly hypnotizing, making Blitz utterly incapable of looking anywhere else.

“I mean, if the offer still stands, of course,” Blitz said with the faintest undertone of a purr, his eyes shining as bright as a flame.  

“You sure it’s that offer you’re really wantin’ ta be standin’ right now?”  Striker asked as the corner of his lips tugged upwards, gently shifting Blitz’s chair back upright and slowly turning it around so that he was facing Blitz properly.  He wanted to look his mate in the eye when he said whatever it was that he was going to say in response to that.

“Well I know that I’m perfectly comfortable right where I’m at,” Blitz begain with a grin, his crimson eyes glinting as they shamelessly raked up and down Strker’s body appreciatively.  “So if you’re volunteering, I’m not about to fucking stop you.  Though I suppose I could at least be nice enough to take this to the chair that we can both kinda almost fit in together.  Let’s go to the off--oh fuck!”  

Blitz had thought he was about to be cute by being the first one to “stand” in the form of finally detaching his ass from the chair, but that soon proved to be much easier to do in theory than in practice as the ache in his lower back flared and he found himself tilting forward right into Striker’s arms.  Whatever playfulness and passion had been in the serpentine imp’s eyes instantly flicked into pure worry as his hands quickly caught and steadied his mate, giving him a minute to settle into the stability before very carefully helping to ease him the rest of the way up.  

“I think we might need to bump the “lunch break fuck” down ta more of a “maybe after work fuck”--if we’re both feelin’ like it,” Striker said a bit grimly, still keeping a steadying hand under Blitz’s arm even though the smaller imp had already straightened himself back up as if nothing had even happened.  “An’ either way, I think you oughta try to take it on the easier side for the rest of today.  If new clients call or come in or whatever--fine.  Go ahead an’ work ‘em into the schedule for next week.  But maybe let me n’ Millie take care of the job we have lined up for this afternoon.....and Moxxie, I guess, if he can actually learn how to be useful for once."

“The FUCK did you just say?” Moxxie’s sudden sharp voice cutting in caused both Bltiz and Striker’s heads to turn, finding him standing there in the doorway looking appropriately offended.  “I’ll have you know that I’m always useful!” He said as he strode back into the room, marching right up to Striker with what Blitz referred to as his “bitch fest face” on.  “Annnnnnd unlike SOME people in this room, I don’t need to be constantly reminded of it in order to get off to my own ego!!”

Striker’s eyebrow raised a fraction, the corners of his mouth tugging into the kind of slow grin that even to this day had Moxxie taking a slight step backwards when he saw it.  “You sayin’ my ego is bigger than yours, little dude?”

“To be fair, your everything is bigger than his,” Blitz said with a light flick of his tail, smirking as he leaned up to press a kiss to Striker’s cheek--and subtly shifted his arm out of Striker’s hold with that quick reassurance that he really was fine now.  “Anyway, if anyone needs me, I’m gonna be in my office for a bit.  And if anyone wants to run out and pick up some food for lunch, just bring me back something spicy!!”

“Again?” Moxxie asked as he and Striker followed Blitz out of the room and back into their main reception area.  “Sir can’t we please have something else today?  We’ve had spicy for the last two weeks!” 

“Miiiiiiillie, do you want to go spicy for lunch today?” Blitz asked sweetly as he looked over at her, batting his eyelashes in a way that was stupidly adorable.  

“Hell yes!!” Millie said with all of her natural exhuberence from where she’d been sitting on the couch sharpening her favorite two-handed axe, her eyes lighting up as much as her boss’s at the promise of food that was basically fire.  “You know I’m always up for spice, Blitz!”  

“Great!  Then spicy it is,” Blitz declared happily, looking over at Moxxie’s defeated face with a look of triumph on his own.  “Soooooooo if you guys wanna run out and grab that real quick, that would be awesome.  Loonie honey, you can go too if you want to--I can stay here and handle the phones while you’re off on your break.”  

“Sweet.”  Loona didn’t look up from her phone once as she said this, but nonetheless got up to go with as soon as Moxxie and Millie had grabbed the keys to the van and prepared to leave.  She’d learned the hard way not to stick around the office for lunch breaks when it was otherwise just going to be Blitz and Striker there.  “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone!”  

“Should be a lot easier to do when Moxxie’s not here shooting my fucking eels!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake it was ONE TIME Blitz--!!” Whatever else Moxxie might’ve had to say in his defense was cut off as Millie and Loona dragged him out into the hall with them and shut the door behind them--leaving Striker and Blitz alone.

“Y’know that you could’ve gone with them too if you wanted,” Blitz offered in a quieter voice, letting a bit more reassurance slip back in now that it was just the two of them again.  “Like I said before, I’m fine--a little sore or whatever but it’s not like it’s bad.”  He shifted his arms up to drape over Striker’s shoulders, stretching out his back a little in the process as if to prove a point.  “See?  I bet we could still pencil in that lunch break fuck if you wanted to.”  

“Mmhmm.”  Striker didn’t look the slightest bit convinced, but he had to admit that it was harder to stick to his guns than he liked it to be when Blitz’s face was so close to his own like this.  

.....But he still fucking knew better.  

“The thing is, though, you already promised Loona that you’d man the phones for her while she’s out gettin’ lunch,” Striker murmured as his hands slid along Blitz’s hips and around his waist, his right palm pressing into the small of Blitz’s back and massaging gently at the tight muscle he felt there.  “And I still got a couple o’things I need to do to prepare for our afternoon job.  So why don’t you go make yourself comfortable in your office for a bit, and actually take the break to relax for once.”    

“.....In my defense, fucking on our lunch breaks IS relaxing.”

“Blitz.”

“Alright, alright.....fiiiiiiiiiiine,” Blitz gave in with a small roll of his eyes, nonetheless lifting himself up onto his toes to sneak a quick kiss to Striker’s lips.  “But for the record, I don’t need my back to suck your dick.  Just saying!!”

Striker’s hand shifted from Blitz’s lower back to swat lightly at his ass as he turned to walk himself to his office, earning a slight jump and a loud “HA!” from the smaller imp that had Striker both shaking his head and smiling from ear to ear all at the same time.  Fuck’s sake, he loved his mate so much.

It was one of the times--times that Striker noticed had been happening more and more frequently lately--where the word “mate” had been dangerously, longingly, nearly overtaken by the word “husband” in his mind.

One day. Soon.

Straightening the brim of his hat and adjusting it more securely on his head, Striker let that ever-present thought drift back to its usual place on the sidelines as today’s job shifted to the forefront.  If it was just going to be him, Millie, and Moxxie for this one, then he needed to be the one taking over the planning for how things were gonna go because fuck letting Moxxie have the second-in-command leadership role.  He was going to be lucky if his role didn’t turn out to be being bait.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Striker chose to do something a touch more productive and made his way over to Loona’s desk to grab the file they had on their afternoon target, wanting to give it a good read-through before he started finalizing too many details.  Normally he would’ve joined Blitz in his office for this, but he knew damn well that if he did, the last thing Blitz was going to do was sit still and take a break.  Instead, he decided to make himself comfortable right there at the reception desk--figuring that Loona wouldn’t give two shits about him being in her chair while she was out anyway--and if by some miracle Blitz managed to take enough of a break that he ended up dozing off at his desk, then Striker wanted to have the quick and easy access to the phone.  

He knew better, but he could hope.

It wasn’t too long before Moxxie, Millie, and Loona came back with several bags of take-out and a to-go tray of drinks from one of the local coffee shops that happened to be Blitz’s favorite.  Moxxie had the fifth drink--his own--already in hand, and seemed to be midway through complaining that not only did they put “Foxxie” on the cup again, but they also only gave him two pumps of vanilla instead of three.  “--is it really so hard to count to three??  I mean, seriously!”

“Oh hey look, we’re back,” Loona said flatly and loudly as she dropped her portion of the bags unceremoniously on the coffee table before setting down the drink tray a fraction more gently.  “So you can definitely start getting out food to shove in your face instead of bitching about your coffee for another 20 minutes.”  

She looked up when she caught sight of Striker strolling over out of the corner of her eye, a hint of a smile flashing across her face before it disappeared into her box of ‘things she can’t just show her parents to let them know she likes them’.  Instead she reached down to carefully pry his usual coffee order out from the tray, offering it to him with a wary, “So.....Blitz has his clothes back on now, right?”  

“Never took ‘em off I don’t think,” Striker replied, tilting his head in a nod towards the closed office door.  “I told him ta take the break to relax for once.  Not that he knows how, but, y’know.  Figured it was worth the shot.”  

“I hope he at least got a nap in or somethin’,” Millie said as she started to unpack all of their to-go boxes, popping them open to see who’s was who’s and arranging them into their respective groups on the table.  “He’s seemed a little off lately--is that just me?  Almost like he’s tired.  Has he been going on his 2am coffee binges again or...?”  There was a genuine touch of concern in her eyes as she slid Striker’s food over to his side of the table.  

A small frown crossed the snake imp’s face in response.  “He--”

Yet before Striker could finish that thought, the “or” itself strode in through the main entrance of I.M.P. with a flourish: 

Stolas.  

“Hello.....tiny other imps,” he greeted with as much enthusiasm and a wave as he could bring himself to care to muster, his gaze entirely missing the looks of surprise, confusion, and outright fury in Milile’s, Moxxie’s, and Striker’s eyes as he instead paused to smile pleasantly to Loona.  “And my darling Blitzy’s little hellhound, hello dear.  How are you?”  

“Hungry,” came the automatic, unimpressed response as Loona’s eyes narrowed slightly, resisting the urge to growl at him.  She read this fucker’s spellbook.  She knew just what he was capable of doing to them if he really wanted to.  “It’s our lunch break so--”

“Oh how delightful!” Stolas interrupted gleefully, his eyes lighting up as his hands clapped together.  “Then I came at just the right time--”

“Maybe ya didn’t hear her, seein’ as how ya didn’t let her finish talkin’,” Striker fought tooth and nail to keep his voice at a civilized tone, even if he couldn’t keep his tail from rattling fiercely in agitation.  “But we’re about ta sit down for lunch.  If there’s somethin’ ya need taken care of business wise, ya can come back later when the office is open again.”  

“Oh I’m not here for business with you,” Stolas assured with a dismissive wave, chuckling softly as if the idea itself was preposterous.  “No no, I’m here for--Blitzy!! There you are darling!”

Five pairs of eyes instantly flashed to the office door just in time to see Blitz stop just outside of it, his own eyes perplexedly scanning the scene before him before they inevitably landed back on Stolas.  

The look that came over his face had Striker’s claws digging into the palms of his hands hard enough to draw blood.

“Stolas, I.....what are you doing here?” Blitz heard himself asking, taking an unconscious half step back into the doorway as the Goetian Prince easily wove his way around the others to stride right up to him.  “I told you, we have a job to do today--”

“Ohhhhhhh I know you what said over the phone,” Stolas cooed with his mocking affection as he reached up to roughly pinch at Blitz’s cheek.  “Which is why I thought I might be able to pursuade you more effectively if I came in person.”  He traced his finger along the side of Blitz’s jaw, choosing to interpret the shiver Blitz gave in response as one of pleasure.  “Doesn’t that sound more fun to you, my little plaything?”  

Blitz caught sight of the sudden blurr of movement behind Stolas, and his eyes widened when he realized the figure moving towards them was Striker.  Panicking, and not wanting Stolas to have the chance to realize what was happening here, he quickly caught the front of the Prince’s cloak and tugged, hissing out in a less than romantic tone, “Let’s take this into my office, Stolas.”  

He ignored the fact that those words had Stolas blushing like a schoolgirl and moaning wantonly with an, “Oh Blitzy yes!”

Before the owl prince got the chance to say anything more degrading, however, the door to the inner office slammed shut with the two of them disappearing behind it--leaving Striker, Loona, Moxxie, and Millie cut off from them on the other side.  

Not a single one of them looked happy about this.  

“Should we um...I mean...his food’s gonna get cold,” Millie finished lamely, her voice just loud enough to break the silence.  She looked down at the box of still lightly-steaming onion rings in her hands--the surprise splurge she had ordered just to share with Blitz.  

“Here,” Moxxie offered, reaching out to take the containers from his wife.  “I’ll put them in the microwave for him until he’s--”

“No.” 

Striker’s voice cut through Moxxie’s with the deadly sharpness of his favorite hunting knife, still standing there in the middle of the room and still facing Blitz’s closed office door.  He didn’t speak again, and the others weren’t able to see the expression on his face with his back turned towards them as it was.  Loona’s nose, however, twitched as it finally registered the metallic scent in the air, and her eyes instantly snapped down to the source and widened as she watched the slight trickle of red seep out from between her step-dad’s tightly clenched fingers.  She took a small step towards him, worry flashing sharp in her gaze, but before she was able to reach him, he was suddenly moving away from her and towards the door.  

Blitz’s door.

“What are you going to do?”  She heard the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think if she should be asking them or not.  

Striker paused as his hand came to rest on the doorknob, entirely heedless to the thin smearing of blood between his palm and the metal.  He again didn’t speak--at least, not right away--and for a minute, Loona almost wondered if he was listening, trying to hear what was happening on the other side of the door.  

And then, he finally spoke: 

“I’m gonna tell that disgusting rich pompous Goetia to get his fucking hands off of your dad, our boss, and my partner.”

He let himself into the office--the very first time he’d done so without stopping to knock first.  

~*~

Blitz hadn’t actually thought he possessed any kind of self control up until now, but it was the only explanation he could think of for how he was keeping himself from screaming.  

Stolas. Was. Not. Listening. To. Him.  

Not that he ever listened, but fucking hell this was ridiculous.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, not even trying to hide the exasperation in his voice.  “I told you the first time you called that we had clients lined up all day today--I fucking told you that I was busy and that if you really needed a quickie, to go and get your fucking butler to jack you off or something!  It’s not the full moon Stolas.  Why are you here??”

“Oh come now, Blitzy, you know that I would never let something as silly as all that stop me from coming to see my favorite imp,” Stolas trilled sweetly, his crimson eyes glowing even in the low office light as he reached out to pet along Blitz’s curved horns.  “As if I need an excuse--you truly are just too cute sometimes.  Besides, I think we can both agree that our little rendezvous a couple weeks ago didn’t exactly end up being nearly as pleasurable as we both would have liked.  But never you fear, darling, I completely forgive you for it.”

“Forgive ME?  You broke my fucking h--!!”

“Now now,” Stolas’s fingers shifted from their tender caressing to pressing none-too-gently against his lips to silence him, a vibrant glint shimmering through his eyes as he smiled pleasantly.  “Let’s not go down that path again, shall we my little imp?  Besides, now that I’m here in person, you can finally make it up to me properly.  I even brought a special present for you--something you forgot to grab on your way out.  Honestly, you really must learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, silly thing.”  

Yet before Stolas could produce said “special present”, the door to the office swung open and Striker strode into the room.  

Blitz felt his heart stop in his chest.

“Striker--”

“Now really,” Stolas cut him off with a huff, crossing his arms as his eyes narrowed in annoyance.  “Is this how you allow your employees to behave all the time, Blitzy?  I thought for sure you would have found a way to manage them better.”  

“He is not the problem here,” Striker’s voice, though low, still managed to sound out loud and clear over the intense rattling of his tail as he blazed across the room on a war path to Stolas.  “He can fuckin’ manage us however he fuckin’ wants because he’s our fuckin’ boss.  He has the right to tell you to get the fuck out because this is his fuckin’ office and you ain’t fuckin’ welcome here.  And if you don’t keep your fucking hands off of him, I’m gonna tear them off with my bare fuckin’ teeth and shove them so far up your ass that you’re gonna be able ta fuck yourself from now on without needin’ anyone else ta do it for ya!!”

The room went still for a solid beat of silence as Blitz stared.  

Striker now stood mere inches from Stolas’s face, his eyes burning with an acidic hatred as he kept one hand extended in front of Blitz protectively, and let the other hand linger dangerously over the pistol holstered at his hip.  Stolas, for his part, stood there motionless with his owl eyes huge in shock.  He seemed to be having trouble comprehending what was happening here, though which specific part was tripping him up--if it was being threatened by an imp or if it was realizing that his Blitzy might not be as much “his” as he first thought--was impossible to say.  Blitz couldn’t have even tried to take a guess what was going through his mind just then.  He could barely process what was going through his own.  His heart was racing too fast for his brain to keep up.  

He didn’t even notice the moment that Stolas’s stunned gaze shifted from Striker to himself, or the change that shifted in the prince’s eyes that caused Striker’s to narrow further.  

“Now for the last fuckin’ time,” the cowboy said, his voice lowering into an openly threatening hiss as he shifted himself to now stand fully in front of Blitz, shielding him from Stolas.  “We’re on our lunch break.  The office is closed.  Get the fuck out.”  

Blitz only then managed to tear his gaze away from his mate to instead look at Stolas--and found his face as hard and cold as stone.  It was an expression that Blitz had never seen on the owl’s face before, and seeing it now sent a chill down his spine that was hard enough to make him shiver.  He didn’t know exactly what it meant.....but he knew that whatever it was wasn’t good.  

Yet the Prince, of all things, took a slight step back.  

“Very well.”  Stolas’s face remained as neutral as his eerily calm voice, his gaze slowly--deliberately--dragging itself away from Blitz to instead properly face Striker once more.  “I see that there may have been a slight misjudgement on my part for your boss’s availability today.  I will be sure to contact your office at a more appropriate time to schedule a formal appointment--”  His vivid crimson eyes flicked back to Blitz’s, as his usual pleasant smile spread slowly across his face once more.  “--where it can be just the two of us.” 

“Get. Out.”  Striker’s tail thrashed once behind him, the sound its rattling filling the room.

“And you,” Stolas said, his gaze flashing back to Striker with a near break-neck speed, flashing in a surge of barely contained power that still seemed to simmer just beneath the surface.  “While I admire that terribly forceful nature of yours, I highly suggest that you remember just to whom you are speaking.  And just to whom you owe your continued opportunities that keep your schedules oh so busy.  Which reminds me, darling Blitzy....bring the book with you to our next meeting.”

Yet instead of exiting the way he had come--through the office door--he simply opened up a bright purple portal right there in the middle of the office and stepped through it, disappearing into a room that Striker guessed [and Blitz knew] was his private study.  

The two of them were left alone in Blitz’s office just like they’d been so many times before--and yet had never been before quite like this.

Blitz let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“Striker,” he called softly when he realized that his mate was still planted in that firmly defensive stance, reaching out to catch his hand--and jumping when he felt a sticky substance coating his palm.  “Striker what the fuck!  Holy shit, are you bleeding??”

“What?”  Striker had completely forgotten about his hands over the course of their exchange with Stolas, at least up until the point he felt himself being dragged back out of the office and forcibly sat down with the others still sitting silently at the table.  “It ain’t bad, Blitz--an’ I don’t even think it’s bleedin’ anymore.”

His mate, of course, ignored him in favor of digging through the drawers for a first aid kit, muttering something about stupid sexy boyfriends who were complete fucking dumbasses under his breath, and Striker resigned himself to just sitting there waiting until he inevitably found what he was looking for.  

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was the sudden feeling of another hand taking his and turning it so that it was palm up, and turning back to see Moxxie of all people squinting over it.  

What the fuck even was today.  

“It doesn’t look bad,” he reported after a minute, his nose wrinkling a little as he took in each of the claw-shaped indents.  “Definitely not as much damage as you could’ve done to yourself.  I--unfortunately--think you’ll live.” 

And yet there was something in Moxxie’s voice and the look he gave Striker as he released his hand that suggested that, maybe for the first time, it wasn’t such an unfortunate thing after all.  It even got a giggle from Millie and a small smile from Loona and.....it was just then that Striker realized they were all looking at him with similar looks on their faces.  Almost as if they were happy he was still there in one piece.

What the fuck. 

“Found it!!” Blitz triumphantly held up the very battered first aid kit and brought it back to the table, carefully cleaning off Striker’s hands and treating them before bandaging them up.  When he was done, he paused, hesitating as a touch of pink rose up in his cheeks, before he seemed to decide ‘fuck it’ and pressed a soft kiss to the center of his palms before putting everything away.  “There.  Now let’s finally fucking eat already.  I’m starving.”

“I got everything all reheated and ready to go!” Millie grinned as she returned from the microwave with the last of the to go boxes, setting it down in front of Blitz with a mischevous glee in her eyes.  “Look Blitz--I got us onion rings!!”  

Blitz’s eyes widened into hearts as he gave a surprised squeak of pure happiness, looking up at Millie as if in awe of her excellence.  “Okay Moxx, I hate to break it to you, but you officially have your title of Employee of the Month in danger of going to your wife instead.  You’re gonna have to do something really fucking fantastic to get it back at this point.  Like really fucking fantastic.”

He went to reach for one--only to stop and blink in surprise when he noticed that Striker had already taken one from the box.  

“Hey,” Striker said, lighty nudging the side of Bltiz’s arm as he offered him, of all things, the onion ring.  “.....You wanna get hitched?”  

It took Blitz a solid minute to process just what Striker was doing--even with the simultaneous round of dropped jaws and wide stares and Moxxie choking on the first bite of his sandwich--before realization finally dawned and Blitz just found himself helplessly laughing like a maniac.  

“Yes,” he said, accepting the onion ring with the most reckless grin on his face.  “Yes I fucking do.”