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Fizzarolli brushed off the noise of the applause, the whistles from the ground, the few bundles of dark red roses. He made his usual, little bow, bending just a little his metallic legs. He was smiling, his pointy teeth showed out. He straightened his back again, left the stage surrounded by yells, obscene words screamed at the top of the lungs.
“Ugh.” He bursted out when he let himself fall on his seat, in the dressing room. The mirror in front of him, surrounded by a square of yellow light bulbs, threw back to his eyes his bothered reflection.
He held back another snort and grabbed the cotton wool, all of his little, coloured tubes. He started getting prepared for another kind of show. Throwing away the clothes he wore on the stage, he felt way better.
But the sensation of burning humiliation still bubbled inside his stomach.
He sighed and looked at himself in the mirror, scratching his chin.
Asmodeus wasn’t there. At the exhibition. Of course, the nightclub was his, he owned everything and everyone inside there and he wasn’t supposed to be on the stage every night. Why was Fizz bothering himself so much with all that bullshit?
“Screw it.” He muttered beneath his breath, exiting the dressing room. He could’ve set on fire the entire city with his only frustration but he had to hold back. Being on the stage with Ozzie was something different from everything Fizz had ever experienced. He could go on denying it, but being there…coordinated with Ozzie, his voice intertwining with Ozzie…
A shiver ran down Fizz’s spine and he sighed. Again, he got moved away from the waves of his thoughts. It wasn’t difficult, for everyone else, to go on, to simply live without making up all those problems. Fizz envied them.
He walked on the hallway, doing a sort of slalom to avoid his coworkers, busy finishing the last tasks of the day. Some of them held boxes larger than their chests, or had to clean some corners of the many rooms. Fizz felt almost bad for those who had the duty to clean up the main room…and the stage.
Even for Fizz, so experienced, it had been pretty difficult dancing in the last time of the exhibition, after all that had been thrown on the stage.
He reached the back of the club, moving to the doors that lead to the garages. Some of Asmodeus’ private cars were there. The direct line between the nightclub and Asmodeus’ villa of lust. Fizz’s destination, like every four days. He knew they both would’ve loved meeting each other more frequently…but something stopped them.
In Fizz’s mind, some minutes later, when he closed the gate of the villa’s garden, there was a huge blank space. He had drunk something, just a bit, just a few shots, just an entire bottle, just to be perfect. As much as possible after such a long, shitty day. Ugh, he wished he could do something better than drinking to forget his thoughts and then going to Asmodeus.
“He will for sure notice I’m drunk.” He muttered, regretting his past decision, and got inside the villa. He hesitated before going up to Ozzie’s bedroom. He didn’t want to make him wait, he didn’t want to torture himself with more depressing thoughts.
But he couldn’t go to Asmodeus in those conditions! And he didn’t mean the alcohol. He meant those thoughts that came bubbling at the surface of his mind, blowing up like bubbles. He sighed and went upstairs, walking slow. If he didn’t calm down…he didn’t want to think about it. Again, those thoughts.
The need to talk with Asmodeus, asking him how the day had gone. And not to make the tension more electrifying, nor to start some interesting game of sex. He simply wanted to talk. Have a conversation. With a Sin?
“Are you hearing yourself?” He bursted out against himself, stopping in front of the bedroom’s door. It’s okay, Fizz. Go there and spend some time with him- I mean! Go there and fuck. That’s all. He groaned. He was going to mess it up, was he?
Cursing against hell and heaven and everything that’s between, but keeping it quiet, he entered the room.
…
He didn’t remember falling asleep. And he didn’t remember waking up either. He was just there, on the mattress, naked. Asmodeus’ large chest was going up and down regularly, his breath was calm, peaceful. Fizzarolli was laying on his side, looking at him. He didn’t remember how much passed since he blinked the last time.
Embarrassed, he sat down. He felt ashamed by all the thoughts that assaulted him during those little moments of peace. He wondered about laying there all morning, just staring at Ozzie, and doing nothing else. A shiver made him flinch, it was deep down his bones.
He was sure he was freaking out. Had he gone crazy? He jumped down the bed. He hated that feeling. Being down so bad for someone. He walked to the bathroom, swallowing back a frustrated groan. He couldn’t make any noise. Better keep his madness quiet for now.
He entered the shiny bathroom, everything was so clean. And also so tall, made for Ozzie’s size. It wasn’t a problem for Fizz, however, he could just stretch his legs up on the sink and look at himself in the mirror. He pinched his skin, touching his scar. Nah, he was always himself. No traces of changing in his look.
He returned down on the floor, trying to figure out what there was inside his chest that was so heavy. In many years of being alone, he understood the best way to keep it all calm was to think. Think and break up into many parts all of his emotions. But that was simply…different. It was like he already knew the answer to so many questions and yet he was scared to write them down.
“I don’t want to lose this job. And telling Ozzie all the corny shit that I’ve got inside my head would get me fired in less than a minute.” He said, talking lower than the whistle of the wind. He was shit scared of being heard in his solitary delirium. He sat on the wc, the toilet seat lowered down. It was strangely comfy.
“I don’t wanna get fired, that’s all.” He said, with a self-sure tone of voice. He knew the best way to lie to himself was to imagine he was acting in front of people, and right now he could see many little men made of toilet paper around him. He blinked, shivered, jumped down the wc.
“The fuck…?” He muttered, giving a last fire gaze to the toilet paper, innocent, standing there close to the wc, and returned to the bedroom. Soon it was time to get ready for his routine work. But maybe he still had some moments to look at Ozzie.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, he raised his glance to the bed. Oh, fuck. He froze, holding back a groan of surprise. He thought Ozzie was still asleep but the demon was yawning, sitting on the bed. He turned his head aside and met Fizz’s eyes.
“Fizzy.” He said, surprise. He hid his little concert under another yawn. “I thought you were already gone at work.” Fizz felt the throat going dry. Yeah, right, that was the problem. He swallowed but the sensation was to eat sand.
“Yeah. Yeah, I…” He said, then he raised his shoulder, trying to act indifferent. “Yeah I should go.” No reasons at all, there were no reasons at all for him to be there. Asmodeus smiled. It wasn’t something strange, he actually smiled a lot. But that was another kind of smile. It was…softer. Or was Fizz making it all up in his mind?
“Well, there are no problems at all if you wait another bit before going to the nightclub. It’s still early.” He said standing up. Fizz took a relieved breath. He wasn’t going to be fired…yet. Ozzie grabbed the red bathrobe hanging near the bed and wrapped his waists on it. Fizz was bothered by the loss, but he moved to the bed.
He remembered just now he was naked too. He jumped to the night table near the pillows, where some of her clothes were. Others, including his underwear, were all scattered on the floor. Dressing sounded more like a treasure hunt. Ozzie chuckled seeing him moving around like a scavenger dog, grabbing his robe.
“Maybe next time we’ll go easier. It’ll be less…strenuous for you to get all your clothes back.” Asmodeus commented when Fizz was finally done dressing. The jester smirked. He moved with two large steps to the border of the bed, where Asmodeus was sitting.
“Nah, this is part of the fun.” He replied, his smirk growing wider, as he patted his waists. A little, almost nonexistent chuckled exited Ozzie’s mouth.
“You’re really incredible, you know?” He said, he lowered a hand to touch Fizz’s head. The jester straightened his back. The touch sounded like a caress. Then, Ozzie blocked his hand. He turned the caress into a detached pat-pat. Fizz felt a sudden wave of delusion. He was freaking sure that was going to be a caress.
Ozzie stood up, moved to another corner of the room. Suddenly all of his attention was focused on the desk, he searched for some papers, didn’t say another word. With a strange sensation in his stomach, Fizz jumped down the bed. It was time to go.
He walked to the door, his steps not silent enough to not be heard.
“What about you come also tonight?” Ozzie said. Those words were more sudden and unexpected than a gunshot during a truce. Fizz turned behind his head.
“Sure.” He said. He closed the door behind himself, had the decency to wait for a few moments, till he was downstairs, before starting his stupid, silly, little dance of victory.
Something just changed. And he liked it.
…
Another long, exhausting day. And it wasn’t even finished yet. Fizz layed down on a random chair, in the hallway, while half-naked, really sexy dancers ran to the stage, other Imps prepared the makeup for the next background actors.
“Fizz! Up on the stage in three minutes!” The coordinator of the scenes, a tall, extra pink Imp with huge glasses, moved in front of him, tapping the point of her pen on her folder. Fizz groaned.
“I know! Anyways.” He stood up, stretched his arms. He loved the creaking noise they made. Already tasting the acid bitterness of delusion in his mouth, he glanced around.
“Oh! Fizz!” The Imp returned back, running to him in a hurry. “One last thing; Asmodeus is going to be on stage tonight. We’ve got some big bosses in the crowd outta there.” Fizz did his best to keep his face as usual, still.
He made a self-sure grin, patting both of the Imp’s shoulders.
“Nothing to worry about, babe! This jester here will totally kill the show tonight!” And now, he couldn’t wait no more. He moved to the backstage, tried to not stomp into other boxes on the way. And he was him. Asmodeus. Talking with other coordinators of the exhibition.
You got this, he murmured to himself. Straightening his back, his glance pointed ahead, firmly into the void. He just had to not look at Asmodeus. And he didn’t fail. He brushed aside the bigger demon in a heartbeat, moving smoothly. And then, just then, he glanced behind, a little smile curving his lips.
Asmodeus didn’t raise his gaze from the program he had in his hands. You don’t think I can see what you’ve got in your mind, do you? Fizz thought, feeling suddenly better, like a shock of electrical positivity just crossed him. The way Ozzie’s feathers' tail trembled in the air after Fizz passed by left no doubt.
With a new energy, Fizz went on the stage, ready to wait for Ozzie’s entrance. Ready to be the star, only for a few minutes, under the spotlights with him.
…
And then we keep everything professional
After that night, that really long, special, lustful night, Fizzarolli started believing in something similar to destiny. Oh, the story of fate and soulmates etcetera, it’s all bullshit. He believed in another kind of destiny, the one he made up with his own hands.
Every time he and Ozzie walked in the same hallway, he felt an electrical shock. Every time they’d exchange a gaze in the backstage, another shock. Every time they sang on the stage, he had to force himself to keep it all quiet, sober, or all the people who were watching them would’ve guessed something.
It wasn’t easy for him, absolutely not. The temptations of jumping on Ozzie’s lap at any moment was stronger than his need to breathe. And yet he couldn’t be himself freely when other people were around. Fizz hated it so much. Something he wished all the others could die, or go away.
It would be a dream, he and Asmodeus alone in the world.
How fucking corny was that? Forget about it, Fizzarolli. Be realistic.
And the reality was sneaking out at any moment, meeting each other in secondary rooms, trying to be fast and quiet. Reality was spending the night together, not all nights, but not too little because distance was a poison. Reality was cutting off their whispers when someone else entered the room. Reality was staring at Asmodeus from behind, trying to not be stuck on him for too long.
Reality sucked, but it was all Fizz had.
Fizz tried to not think about that as he tried to find a comfortable position in that huge bed. It was too large, it looked like the sea. If it was a little bit smaller, even a little bit, he could move closer to Ozzie. And then he could say ‘it’s nothing, I don’t wanna fall, that’s all.’ But that bed was larger than his horizons and he was all alone in a corner, on messed blankets.
He closed his eyes, then rolled on his other side. Something kept him awake. After sex with someone who should’ve refused you, the best thing you can do is fall asleep and stay quiet. But something was torturing Fizz’s mind and he couldn’t find a good position to sleep. He groaned, in a low voice.
"What's with that side of bed, froggie?" Ozzie's voice came to his ears like he just raised from the tomb. Fizz flinched.
"Nothing!" He said, rolling on the other side to face Ozzie. Better saying, to face Ozzie's chest.
"Mh." The demon mumbled, leaning his head to the pillow better. His feats and hair were spread around like an aura on that simple, white pillow.
"Are you sure? You haven't stopped moving since we finished." A sudden flush raised up to Fizz's cheeks. He rolled his eyes, suddenly he was out of excuses.
"It's nothing, Oz. I just feel… well…" How could he say it without being offensive? "...uncomfortable." He was offensive. He groaned internally. Was he still able to do two things right one after another or did he have to mess it all up?
Ozzie stayed silent for a while, causing a storm of emotions rumbling inside Fizz's mind. Then he slowly slid closer to the jester, moving on the mattress. The blankets entwined even more.
"If you want to go, nothing's keeping you here." Asmodeus' tone of voice was gentle. It was that voice that messed up everything inside Fizz, so bad. Because it was gentle, but authoritative. It was caring and somehow rough.
Like he was going to insist on that till Fizz made the best thing for him.
"It's not that!" Fizz said. He didn't hold back a snort of frustration. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Before it was awesome, and now…!" Now those blankets were strangling him.
"I don't understand." Ozzie said. They were close, now. Enough to feel each other's breath and not enough to touch. Fizz hated it.
"Well…" Okay, he had no excuses. No apologies. Nothing to say! Ozzie made a sudden smile. A warm light crossed his face.
"Maybe I can help you." He said. And he closed the gap. Fizz found himself holding his breath while Ozzie surrounded him with his arms, dragging him a little closer.
Fizz's face pressed on his chest. He closed his eyes. It was…warm. Comfortable. Ozzie's feathers were better than any pillow.
"Thank you, Oz." He mumbled. He slowly stretched his metallic arms till the wrapped Ozzie's back, making him chuckle.
"It's nothing, froggie." Fizz tried to stay still. The sensation of being laid down on sharp rocks was gone, but now there was something else. What if they fell asleep like that? And what if the morning after someone entered the door? Without knocking?
What would happen if somebody discovered them…hugging like that? That wasn't sex. That wasn't something sex buddies do.
But that was something he wanted to do! Why was it so difficult to just stay there?
After his damn incident, he always thought of the world in black and white. Bad assholes and good assholes. Asmodeus and his life. Two different paths that couldn't meet.
But now he was laying in a fucking Sin's arms! He couldn't deny it!
"Fizzy…" Ozzie called him, low.
"What??" Fizz replied, maybe a bit too loud, but for a moment he really thought Asmodeus had read his thoughts, somehow.
"Well…you're stiffened as a pole. Did you eat a besom?" Ozzie raised both his eyebrows in a concerned expression.
"No…" Fizz sighed. Again, he didn't act as well as he wanted to and his body betrayed him. "Ozzie, aren't you scared that someone could see you? With me?" There, he said it. Sudden like ripping off a bandaid.
"What?" Ozzie frowned. "Fizzy…" He lowered his head, bending it on the pillow. He placed his chin right on Fizz's forehead.
"Would you believe me if I said I think about it all the time?"
"Yeah. Wouldn't I believe you?"
"You're acting strange lately, froggie. Not that I care, but…" A strange silence fell. Not that I care. The worst lies of all time. "It's not true. See?" Ozzie sighed deeper than before.
"I said something not true. Do you still believe me?" Fizz didn't want another silence to fall between them. He slipped away from Ozzie's arms. He climbed up to his chest, quickly.
"Hey, boss. I'm the one who's depressed here. So don't come at me with other complaints." Fizz said in a peremptory tone of voice, crossing his arms on his chest. "And I'm not the only one who's behaving strangely. I mean…" Was he really talking with that tone of voice to a Sin? Where did that sudden attitude come from?
Asmodeus' chest bent under Fizz's ass when he raised from the pillow, leaning behind to his elbows. His face was so close to Fizz's, they almost touched.
"I liked that." He said, his voice sent shivers down Fizz's bones.
"Liked what…" He muttered, blush becoming darker on his face. Ozzie smirked.
"That attitude. That voice." He passed his tongue over his lips, slowly. "Would it bother you going on with the conversation later?" Another shiver. Oh fuck it, Fizz thought. Conversations could wait.
And it waited days.
Because after that other round, Fizz went away. He couldn't sleep in that bed any longer.
It's impossible to avoid a boss when you work there, but Fizz did his best. Maybe he didn't want to finish that conversation after all.
Their behavior was the same as always. Professional, detached. They met in the hallways, exhibited on the stage. And then nothing. Fizz avoided going to Ozzie's villa and he was scared of the consequences.
"Fizzy, we need to talk." It wasn't a request. It came after almost a week. Fizzarolli was on the stage, he didn't know why. The show ended hours before, the night club was empty.
"Hey boss." Fizz mumbled, his eyes low on the stage.
"I thought about your question." Ozzie sat down near him, crossing his long, perfectly shaped legs. "And my answer is no."
Fizz frowned. Okay, maybe some time had passed and he forgot which clearly were the words of the question.
"No…?" He said, confused, trying to not think that sounded pretty much as a refusal. Ozzie smiled.
"You asked me if I was worried that someone could see you with me. And the answer is no. Because I can see you with me and it's fine." He bent over the little jester, raised his hand. This time, the touch was a caress.
"And nothing could go wrong as long as we keep it quiet." Fizz couldn't believe it. He was torn apart, was he dreaming or not? He swallowed behind the nervousness. He chuckled, trying to contain his obvious joy.
"That's…great…" He looked up at Asmodeus, raised a brow. "And you missed fucking me. Right?"
The blush on Asmodeus' face was delicious, it made Fizz laugh even more.
"...right."