I think wе've found the place where we belong | Helluva Boss, Stolas x Blitzø / Stolitz

[thecrazyalaskan]

Title: I think wе've found the place where we belong
Author: fireweed15
Fandom / Setting: Helluva Boss — Post-Season II
Characters / Pairings: Blitzø x Stolas / Stolitz, Moxxie x Millie
Word Count: 960
Rating: T+
Warnings / Notes: Written for Stolitz Week on Twitter: Day I — Double Date
Summary: The couples of IMP spend a night out on the town.

Stolas and Moxxie are totally going to be theater nerd besties together, I can feel it in my soul.

we're just gonna casually ignore Millie being pregnant for right now because if Imp pregnancies work like human ones, she'd be h e l l a pregnant rn lol

 

Long hours in the assassin business weren't unheard of, but every once in a while, the office of the Immediate Murder Professionals closed up early. The afternoon of September 13th was one such example, if the two signs taped to the glass door reading Closed for Private Event in elegant script and its mocksies berthdā fuckoff in bolder penstrokes were any indication.

"Happy birthday, Moxxie," Millie enthused as she pressed a kiss to his Moxxie's cheek. "Here—" She slid a small, slender box the size of an envelope to him. "Open this one next."

"Thank you, honey—" Moxie accepted the box and tore the paper off. He lifted the lid, revealing a slightly smaller envelope sitting inside. "I think I know what this is—" He tore the end of the envelope open and tipped the contents, two thin pieces of cardstock into his hand. "Tickets to the show for…" His eyes scanned the face of the tickets, then widened. "This weekend? And they're—Millie these are the best seats!"

Millie beamed with satisfaction. "Only the best for you, Moxx."

He stood and wrapped Millie in a warm embrace, pulling back long enough to kiss her forehead. "Thank you sweetie."

Once they broke apart, they realized that Blitzø and Stolas were exchanging an entire conversation in their shared, worried expressions. As the pair realized they'd been noticed, Stolas was the first to speak, his fingers worrying over the envelope in his hand. "Well now we just feel silly," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" Moxxie asked, canting his head slightly.

Blitzø and Stolas exchanged another look before Stolas slowly slid the envelope across the conference table to Moxxie, who opened it with the same careful precision. He tipped the contents out—two thin pieces of cardstock—and read their faces as bemusement colored his features. "Tickets to the show this weekend."

"It was Stols' idea—" Blitzø started, throwing his hands up as if in defense.

"Blitzø said how much you liked theater," Stolas picked up, long fingers twisting nervously, "and I—we thought that it would be a wonderful evening for you and Ms Millie—"

"No, no, it's great," Moxxie interrupted. "Thank you both." He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Would… would you both like to join us?"

They started to protest, but Moxxie cut them off. "I have the two sets now—" He glanced down at the tickets for a moment—"and they're all right next to each other." He turned his attention to Millie, their fingers lacing together. "You don't mind, do you, sweetie?"

"Of course not, Moxx," she replied, her voice sunny. "It sounds fun!"

Two pairs of eyes stared back at each other—Moxxie and Millie expectantly, Stolas and Blitzø in vague surprise, as if they expected the offer to be pulled out from under them. After a moment, Blitzø lifted his hands in a loose, almost "fuck it" shrug as he turned to Stolas. "Looks like we're doing a double date this Friday."

Stolas blinked slowly, owlishly, before smiling and nodding in agreement. "Of course—I'll clear the calendar."

𝄞 𝄞 𝄞

That Friday, they agreed on Blitzø and Stolas picking up Moxxie and Millie and arriving at the theater as a group. It was a few minutes before the former were meant to set out, the air in their apartment was tense with anticipation in the best way.

"Stols, you ready?" Blitzø called as he shrugged into his jacket. The leather was soft with years of wear and care, and the feeling and scent were a reminder of the last time he wore it—their disastrous "date" at Ozzie's.

The bathroom door opened, allowing Stolas' voice to filter out. "I believe so."

Blitzø turned, eyes widening as he took in all of Stolas. He wore a crisp white shirt and black waistcoat, his chest feathers fluffed and lightly styled, and charcoal gray trousers; a dark gray topcoat was carefully folded over his arm. Blitzø recognized the outfit as one of the ones they'd acquired at a steep as fuck discount when Stolas had first moved in, and while he certainly recalled approving of it in the store, seeing it again in this moment—on the verge of an actual fuckin' date—made his heart swell. "Wow, you look… great."

Color touched Stolas' cheeks as he averted his gaze, almost shy under Blitzø's praise. "Thank you. I admit, I feel a little underdressed—it's not what I typically wear for the theater…"

It was far from the first time that Stolas' loss of status had turned out to be a tender subject, and while he was more than entitled to his grief, Blitzø couldn't bear to see his heart hurt tonight. "Hey—" With almost feline grace, he leapt onto the back of the couch, bringing them eye level with each other, and reached out to cradle Stolas' face in his hands; when he spoke, his words were soft and intent. "You look fuckin' amazing. You're…" His expression softened, his thumb brushing against his lover's soft feathers. "You look so handsome, Stolas."

Stolas' eyes met Blitzø's, and love and gratitude made them glassy. "Thank you Blitzø."

Blitzø smiled warmly, then pressed a soft kiss to Stolas' forehead. "C'mon, we don't want to be late to Moxxie's bougie theater thing."

𝄞 𝄞 𝄞

They weren't late to pick up Moxxie and Millie, and arrived at the theater as the doors were opening. As Moxxie had enthused, the seats were perfect, and soon they were settled in, playbills in hand.

As the house lights dimmed, Stolas leaned down slightly to murmur to Blitzø, "Now, what is this musical about?"

Blitzø shrugged as he shoved the playbill into his jacket pocket and took Stolas' hand in his, the overture booming out from the orchestra pit. "I dunno, something about lesbian witches?"