The young prince's grip tighten their grip of the imp's shoulders as bolt of pain shuttered through him, causing his toes to curl and his body to buck against Blitzo. It was probably a good thing that the music in the club was so loud for it muffled the goetia's undignified squawk that filled the room. What was he doing? This was moving past just a simple make out... But did he care? That was going to leave a mark, feathers or not.

"You're wonderful, Blitzo..." Stolas breaths, his hands traveling up to lace themselves between the delicate spines behind his head.