Your Hands Are Gravity While My Hands Are Tied

I Would Rather Not Go Back to the Old House

Stolas awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, sunlight streaming in through his window. He sat up and stretched, feeling more well-rested than he had in quite some time. He turned to the other side of his bed, but it was empty. Stolas frowned, unsure when last night's date had left. They'd been going at it for quite a while before, while cuddling, Stolas had fallen asleep, embraced in the warmth of the incubus he'd met that night. It was then that Stolas realized he never got his name. He went to hide under the covers, feeling foolish, but then he remembered—the other guy hadn't asked for his name, either. They were just two men who danced and then had a passionate night together. And there was nothing wrong with that.

Stolas reached for his book—a romance novel he was close to finishing—when he heard his phone ding from the other room. Hoping it was Via, Stolas stood quickly, wrapping his robe around him and carrying the book with him, and walked into the bathroom, where his cellphone lay plugged in. Stolas blushed—he certainly hadn't been the one who'd plugged it in, and it was sweet of the incubus to do that for him. Stolas unplugged the phone and walked towards the kitchen, swiping his eyes, ready to make a warm cup of tea.

It was a text from Blitz. Stolas frowned. So, he was going to start the day with bad news, huh? Blitz here once again to ruin a good moment for him.

Blitz: we need 2 tlk

Well, that was certainly abrupt, Stolas decided. Blitz's texts were usually short, but rarely were they actively asking to talk to him, usually just a short response to what Stolas had already sent.

Blitz: it importnt

Stolas took a sip of his tea, feeling petty. He contemplated ignoring the messages entirely, despite Blitz's urgency. It was his day off. He deserved a break.

Blitz: plz

It was the 'please' that did it for Stolas. With a sigh, Stolas typed back:

Stolas: What do you want?

Blitz: need 2 tlk about ur safty

Blitz: sry

Stolas: Fine, I'm on my way.

He tipped back the rest of his tea, and before Blitz could even respond, Stolas went to his room and grabbed a shirt that Blitz had left behind once. He held it close to himself, and followed the magical energy that led him to Blitz. The room around him shimmered and shifted, and soon, he found himself in front of a dingy apartment building. The exterior of the building was worn, the paint peeled from the walls, and the steps leading up to the door was cracked. It was... less than ideal, Stolas decided. Gathering himself, he walked up to the door, and knocked.

Blitz opened it almost immediately, looking annoyed. "You didn't even ask me where I wanted to meet."

Stolas's feathers ruffled. "You said it was urgent."

With a shake of his head, Blitz opened the door, letting Stolas in, whose eyes widened as he took in the small, dingy space. The living room was small yet rather empty, filled with mismatched furniture, old rugs, takeout containers, and cups. The air was thick with the smell of cigarettes, and the dull colors surrounding him felt off.

Stolas felt a pang of sympathy. He'd never imagined that Blitz lived like this.

Blitz noticed the expression and scowled. "Wipe that pitiful look off your face. I don't need your sympathy. Just listen," he scolded while angrily signaling for Stolas to sit on his couch. A part of Stolas didn't want to—who knew what had all been there over the years—but at Blitz's expression, he sat obediently. "I figured it was the least I could do to inform you that last night, my dad showed up."