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“Shit sorry, you go first,” Blitzø insisted, after they’d both started the call by announcing that they had something to say.
Stolas was hesitant, tempted to push back, to demand that Blitzø be the one to start, just to be sure he wasn’t about to make an absolute fool of himself. But the prince had made up his mind. It had taken weeks for him to pluck up the courage to tell Blitzø, to let him know. He couldn’t fall at the final hurdle, and if he let Blitzø speak he was almost certain that all of his preparations would be for naught, that he’d find some reason to cower away from the conversation.
So he took a deep steadying breath and asked, “Have you ever considered having children, beyond Loona?”
“Uhhhhhhhhh,” Blitzø drew out for a concerningly long time, before finally answering, “Yeah… I guess you could say I’ve been thinking about it recently…”
“You have?” Stolas asked, going off script for a moment, before veering away from the ‘why?’ he wanted to ask, and instead pressing on with his preprepared, “And what was your decision?”
There was a beat of silence before Blitzø’s breath came through the speaker, and a quiet, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d be okay with another kid. Why are you asking? Have you been thinking about having more kids?”
“I-…” Stolas began hesitantly, the words sinking in. Blitzø wanted another child. Surely that was half of the battle. His talons fell to rest gently against the bump straining against his clothing, already large enough that most of his outfits were feeling incredibly snug. He offered the egg inside of him a gentle stroke, despite knowing that it would be none the wiser, but it gave him the confidence to admit, “Yes, you could say I’ve been given cause to consider it.”
“And?” Blitzø asked simply.
“And yes, I would be happy with another child.”
The silence that stretched between them was long, the tension palpable. This was the part where he was meant to say the words. Blitzø was agreeable to another child, as was he. So why did the words feel so heavy in his throat. He just had to say them aloud. ‘I’m pregnant.’
“Right, well, how about we stop fucking around then?” Blitzø asked bluntly, breaking through the anticipation with all the grace of a baby giraffe with a sledgehammer. But that was what Stolas loved about him. “We both know what this is about, right? All the rawdogging finally caught up to us, because somehow, we’ve managed to make a baby together.”
“We certainly have,” Stolas confirmed, and heard Blitzø’s sigh of relief.
“Cool… And we both want it, so, now what?”
“Now-…” Stolas began, but the reality of the situation was settling in the wake of Blitzø’s destructive force. The little mound under his hand was their egg, their child, that they both wanted. “Oh, Blitzø, I can’t believe it, we’re going to be fathers again! Together!”
“Holy shit. We’re- we’re going to be dads again. Fuck Stolas, we’re having a kid! You’re excited?” Blitzø asked, and Stolas could already hear the joy in the imp’s voice, tinged with something that might have been relief.
“Of course I’m excited, now that I know you’re delighted too. I can’t wait.”
Blitzø let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, but one that Stolas was almost certain he could hear the smile behind. “How did you know?”
“Well it was obvious, when we last met up, the bump was already visible,” Stolas admitted, remembering how he’d tried so hard to hide it, put on a ridiculous costume, but Blitzø had just played into his fantasies as he always did. Nothing was ever too wild or strange.
“Shit, I guess I noticed it too, but you should have said something.”
“I know, I know I should have, but I was just so nervous,” Stolas confessed, “I’ve been worried ever since I realised, keeping it to myself for fear you might not want them. And you never said anything to me about it either.”
“I thought it was just some bad gas. I didn’t think it was a baby,” Blitzø joked, and Stolas couldn’t help but chuckle too, the relief of relinquishing the albatross on his shoulders so great that he wanted to do nothing but laugh. Laugh, and hold onto Blitzø and their child.
“We’ll have to make preparations, before they arrive,” Stolas realised. He was sure there were a few things left in a spare room from when Via had been born, but he’d been too scared to go in and check. Perhaps he and Blitzø could do so together, decide what was still up to scratch, figure out what was left. He was almost certain that Blitzø would want to throw something horse related into the mix, and almost tittered aloud at the vision of him holding up a little horse onesie that would probably be far too big for several months.
“Yeah? You’d be the expert; I haven’t done this baby shit before,” Blitzø encouraged, but knocked some of the wind from Stolas’s sails as he continued with, “But we’ve got time right? We can figure all of that stuff out later.”
“Well, I suppose, but we still need to prepare for the egg, we’ll need to keep it warm when it arrives. It’s not easy by any means, and will-”
“Sorry to disappoint you birdie,” Blitzø cut in, “but I’m pretty sure they’re not gonna be coming out of an egg.”
“What do you mean?” Stolas retorted, his patience snapping instantly, the hormones making him far more volatile than he was comfortable with, sounding perhaps a little too frustrated when he stated, “The doctors already confirmed it.”
“What doctor? I haven’t been to see a doctor yet.”
“Why would you need to see a doctor? You played your part,” Stolas argued, a fraction of the annoyance he felt turning to bewilderment.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Blitzø growled back, but there was something in his voice that Stolas couldn’t place, surprise, regret, confusion?
Stolas sighed and offered a placating, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to belittle your efforts. I know you couldn’t have been involved with the pregnancy thus far because I kept you in the dark.”
Blitzø was quiet a concerningly long time, giving Stolas an eon to contemplate what had been there in his voice. Why was Blitzø being so irrational, why was he confused. The cogs turning in Stolas’s mind offered him a million different answers, none of them favourable, before Blitzø quietly asked, “Stolas, are you pregnant?”
All of the previous enthusiasm flooded from Stolas like the rest of the ocean amidst a tsunami. He’d thought that-… The fingers settled over the egg were beginning to shake. Blitzø didn’t know? How could Blitzø possibly not know? What part of the conversation had gone so catastrophically wrong that he was unaware? Stolas had made it clear they were having a child together, had he not? “I don’t understand, I thought you knew.”
“Open a portal,” Blitzø stated rather than answer, and the prince could feel the corners of his eyes prickling.
“Blitzø, what’s wrong? I thought you were happy, I-…” Stolas tried to argue, voice growing thick with the unshed tears.
“Open a portal, now,” he insisted more forcefully.
Stolas did as instructed, taking a deep quivering breath as he placed his phone aside, and wiping at his eyes, before swirling his hand to create a pool of magic that ebbed outwards. A window opened into a small shabby bathroom with cracked walls and a tall mirror. Blitzø stood in the centre, naked but for his boxer shorts, turned away and looking into said mirror with a concerning look somewhere between confusion and dismay. The reflection of his eyes met with Stolas’s own before roaming down the owl's body to land on his stomach’s mirror image, going wide with evident horror.
“I don’t understand-…” Stolas began, then Blitzø turned towards him, and Stolas’s traitorous eyes slipped down over the assassin’s body, his strong chest, the lithe muscles of his biceps and- and the gentle rounding of his abdomen. The mirror didn’t hold a candle to the almost perfect echo of the small, defined protrusion that settled between Stolas’s hips reflected on Blitzø.
In unison both of them dropped a hand to their distended middle, and Blitzø’s touch looked so gentle, his palm so wide against the little bump, thumb trailing tenderly.
It was, much to his own surprise, Stolas who broke the long silence with, “Oh, that’s… Hmm, that’s not what I was expecting.”
But it was enough for Blitzø to mumble, “You, uh, you didn’t know about the 2 for 1 special?”
And that was enough to open the floodgates, the weeks of secrets and anxiety truly, finally giving way to the laughter bubbling up inside both of them and spilling over, starting off as something nervous, uncertain, building until Stolas was forced to lie back against the bed, his ribs aching as he hooted. He vaguely noticed the presence that curled up next to him only because Blitzø’s laughter drew closer.
“Fuck, wait Stols we gotta stop laughing, the kid is ruining my bladder,” Blitzø announced, Solas's own chuckles cutting off sharply, but a grin stayed plastered on his face.
“Oh my stomach hurts, I’ve been so sick, I’ve been living off oatmeal and dry bread,” Stolas confessed.
“Yeah, well I’ve been eating candy bars wrapped in ham, and still managed to convince myself I wasn’t pregnant. How the fuck did we-... What are the fucking odds?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I can barely believe it, let me look at you,” he insisted, and Blitzø sat up to look down over Stolas, presenting his bulging little gut proudly.
“Are you going to return the favour, or leave a guy hanging?”
Stolas smiled, shrugging off the layers of clothing revealing his ruffled feathers and the little hill that he ran his hand over to smooth down the feathers and reveal fully. When he lowered himself back to the bed alongside Blitzø, the imp practically crawled into his lap, their bumps brushing against each other.
“This is insane right?” Blitzø asked, “Us being pregnant, together.”
“But just think, we can go through this, together.”
“Yeah,” Blitzø muttered quietly, “Yeah, we’re going to be doing this shit together. You’re a little bigger than me though, think that means you’re further along? Or did I just luck out and get the little one?”
“I think you’ve technically been pregnant the longest of the two of us, given your size in relation to what I know of imp pregnancies,” Stolas explained, laying a gentle hand against Blitzø’s middle, “So it’s strange to think that the egg will probably hatch a couple of months before your little one comes along.”
The smile on Blitzø’s face slowly dropped, until he looked up from the bumps to meet Stolas’s eyes with confusion, his little irises shifting the way they did when he was trying to find an answer. Clearly not finding whatever he was looking for Blitzø asked, “Hold on, the fuck do you mean you’re going to be done with this shit 2 months before me?”
“Actually, I’ll be laying the egg about a month from now.”
“A month?! But I’ve got like 4 more,” Blitzø complained.
“Yes, you will have to endure a little longer, and I’m sure you will get much bigger than I ever will,” Stolas chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss against Blitzø’s forehead.
“Woah, hold your fucking horses. What happened to getting through this together?!”
“Don’t worry I’ll be there for you. And your belly is so lovely and warm, it would be excellent for keeping the egg toasty.”
“Fucking- leaving my pregnant ass to look after both of our kids,” Blitzø grumbled.
“I’ll be there every step of the way,” Stolas promised, taking Blitzø’s hand in his own to punctuate the point, and the smile returned somewhat.
“So, you think my belly’s lovely, huh?” he teased, a small hint of hesitance, but Stolas ran a gentle hand down Blitzø’s spine that had the assassin in his lap shivering, curling a finger around his tail was enough to practically have him turning into a puddle.
“I could show you just how lovely I think you are,” Stolas purred, “I feel we deserve a celebration.”
“I mean, it’s not like either of us could get more pregnant,” Blitzø mused, some of his authority returning as he pushed Stolas back onto the bed, before trying to lean forward to no doubt graze his teeth against Stolas’s throat the way he knew the owl loved, falling short almost immediately as their bumps pressed up against each other. “This is going to take some getting used to.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Stolas offered, lifting Blitzø’s hips gently to cradle him against his chest and pushing his beak up against Blitzø’s lips, receiving a kiss that deepened quickly to heavy breaths and lingering touches.
One pregnancy had seemed infinitely terrifying, hung in the liminal space between wanted and unwanted, an unending reel of anxiety in not knowing. It was strange that two pregnancies somehow seemed comforting. Together, they would figure it out.