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Fizzaroli had finished yet another show at Ozzie’s Restaurant and immediately upon exiting the wings, his playful jester smile disappeared. All that smiling, funny wit, and acrobatic feats were just a facade today. Underneath the clown persona, Fizz had a dark side that couldn’t be masked today, despite the audience’s praises and shouts.
He quickly walked to his dressing room, avoiding as many members of the stage crew as he could to escape the chaos, each step causing a painful, burning sensation where his prosthetics met his flesh. Once inside, he slammed the door and locked it. If anyone wanted to get a hold of him, they could leave a message and he’d get back to them later. He was off for the next few days and there was only one person he was willing to tolerate for the next 72 hours; the same person who owned the very stage he just exited, his loving boyfriend Asmodeus.
Speaking of the demon, Fizz turned around from the door with a sigh, followed by a smile upon seeing his usual gift from his love. Any night that Fizz performed, Ozzie made sure to either greet him in the wings or to leave a little gift in his dressing room if he couldn’t make it. Fizz knew that Ozzie had an important business meeting earlier that day, so he knew his lover wouldn’t be there in person today. But he still couldn’t help but smile upon the sight of the half dozen of blackish purple asiatic lilies that appeared on his makeup vanity in a blue vase. The card attached to them saying, “You did great, my dear. Love, Ozzie.” It was quite comforting to know that even if his boyfriend couldn’t be here in the flesh, that he still cared about him no matter the circumstance and knew that he would have a stellar performance. Little gestures like that made Fizz feel loved, even on his toughest days, such as this one.
Fizz was dealing with some of the worst nerve pains he had felt in a long time today. He knew he was due for a flare up soon. He had had a solid 6 months without one, the longest bout since his accident that he could recall. But today, his streak of luck had been broken his entire body felt tingly and every sudden movement shot fiery pain throughout his entire body… well what was left of it anyway… But Fizz was a fighter, no matter what. He lived by the saying “the show must go on,” even if he was having a flare up. So he still performed his nightly show/emcee role for the club. Ozzie never forced him to perform any day, but he felt an obligation to not only his boyfriend but also the loyal patrons that visited this restaurant, especially the ones that traveled clear from the pride ring to get here. He also couldn’t resist a good audience, and he knew that some rowdy guests were coming tonight. After all, what performer doesn’t want a good crowd to show off to, even if they are in excruciating pain that they can play off?
He changed out of his jester costume, avoiding the mirrors as he put his street clothes back on. Just a simple black t shirt and red sweat pants today, as he didn’t have the energy really to wear anything else. His tank was running on fumes at this point and all he wanted to do was refuel himself with a good meal and some relaxation with his boyfriend.
Finally, came the hardest part for him getting out costume: removing the makeup. For most performers, getting the cream makeup off their face was nothing special. But for the jester of lust, it was his least favorite part of show business. It wasn’t always like this. Back when he was a kid, he loved getting out of makeup with Blitzo and then going to play with their toys in their tents. Now, it was nothing but a mentally painful reminder of the worst time of his life. He sat down at his vanity stool, pulled out his his makeup wipes and medicated face lotion and began to remove the painted on mask.
Every swipe of the wipe felt like a burning rag of acid was being dragged along his face. He winced in pain when he got along the bridge of his nose, his face’s most sensitive part. This is where the first firework hit him, knocking him unconscious for a moment and giving him a concussion. Everyday, he used a bit of fx makeup putty to help smooth the scars around that section of his face. The application always hurt like hell, but today the removal felt like torture. The thin layer of latex finally freed itself off his scarred skin, earning a choking gasp from his raspy throat. A few more wipes and all of the makeup was gone, leaving his face bare. It was still a majority white, but now had small speckles of red poking out. His cheek dots, lipstick, and eyeliner were gone too, leaving him with a rough and bumpy complexion that he despised. He also removed the false eyelashes he wore every day, the glue peeling off causing his eyes to water. He smeared his medicated cream over every bit of his face, finally helping the burning to cool down and giving him a flicker of relief. This stuff felt like smearing grease all over his skin, but honestly he didn’t even care. It was a hint of pain relief, so he would take that over feeling gross any day.
Now came the worst part of this ordeal, removing his performance cap and replacing it with his everyday one that he wore around the house. He grit his teeth and slowly removed the cap, making sure to be careful around the stubs of his horns. Finally, his head was bare and hated every second of it. He truly tried to not look at his reflection, but his instincts forced him to look at the disgusting creature that stared back at him.
The imp in the mirror was Fizzaroli in his most natural form; no makeup, not hat, and no safety net. Only a painful reminder that he would never look as he once did. The creature in the mirror looked so alien to him, regardless if it was his own reflection. His skin, just like most of the rest of his body, was gnarled, twisted, and pale white, peppered with small blotches of his original red hue. His entire head and face were bald, including his eyelashes and eyebrows. All of his hair had been singed off in the fire, leaving his face looking even more distorted. At least he never had to worry about shaving his face…
Worst of all was his head and remnants of horns. They were absolutely wrecked and mangled in the explosion, and the only part of his body they couldn’t fix in any capacity. He used to have horns that curved down to his hips, long and beautiful. Now, they were nubs, with the left side being only slightly longer than the other. Only inches tall now, and a pathetic excuse to even be called horns. They were so fragile, fried and chipped that Fizz found little bits in his hat every time he removed it that had flaked off. They hurt like a motherfucker any time they were touched, considering there was raw open nerves that could never fully heal at the ends. Horns were a huge status symbol in imp culture, especially for the males. The longer the horns, the more prestige and respect, much like antlers on a deer. His once beautiful appendages were now a deformed wreck, just like the rest of him.
They were pounding in pain today, giving him a migraine like headache that no otc pain meds could even touch. He knew he’d have to get one of the stronger pills that he had locked away at home to even get some rest tonight. He knew if he didn’t lock them up that he’d end up addicted to them. Dopamine was a hell of a drug after all, and boy could he use some now. Shamefully, he grabbed some of the medicated lotion and rubbed it on the stubs, causing him to swear in pain. Once they were properly greased and the pain began to lessen (a bit), he slowly donned his everyday cap, snapped it tight and secure, grabbed his things and the flowers, and walked out the backstage door to where the limo was awaiting him. He put his sunglasses on to avoid anyone recognizing him just in case someone were to come by and see him in this state. The damn things hurt the bridge of his nose so fucking bad, but better safe to be unseen than to go in the open like this.
The limo’s chauffeur opened the door of the vehicle for the jester, who thanked him upon being seated. As soon as he was buckled in and settled in, he was eagerly greeted by his overly excited Queive pup, Precious, barking at him. This immediately put a smile on his face, as he had always been an animal lover since he was little. He loved being able to help Blitzo’s mom take care of the circus horses and elephants as a kid, and it was a trait that followed him into adulthood.
“Hi baby girl!” He cooed at the pup as she wiggled into his lap, her little wheelchair bumping against his metal leg to create a mild clashing noise. She stuck her little proboscis up at him, trying to lick his face in excitement. He backed her off a bit, as he didn’t want her to lick the medicine off of his skin. “I know, I love you too! Daddy’s happy to see you too, but I don’t want you to get sick baby girl from licking this shit off.”
The pup eventually settled down and laid in his lap as the driver took off towards Ozzie’s mansion. He loved all 6 of his Queives equally, but Precious was just a bit more special to him than the rest. She was always his little shadow, and got plenty of extra cuddles and love from Fizz. He pet his special pup gently, holding her tightly against his chest. He couldn’t feel her fur with his artificial hands, but he loved being able to feel the warmth of the little pup on his chest, even though it was sore to the touch today. He missed the days of being able to feel anything with his hands, especially on days like this. What he wouldn’t give to feel the warmth of Ozzie’s hand or even just to feel the heat of a cup of coffee with his breakfast…
Precious had been through hell and back too, and he believed that she took to him for that reason. She was abandoned by her breeder for being an albino, a very undesired trait if the Quevies were being trained for dog shows. So she was just given to a sketchy guy who ended up using her as bait dog in a fighting ring. She was grabbed by an angry larger dog and bitten on her rear to the point where her back broke, leaving the poor pup paralyzed from the waist down and covered in scars. A shelter found her left for dead and nursed her back to health, giving her a little wheelchair to get around with. When the couple adopted her, she immediately took to Fizz and had been his best little buddy since then. He believed she knew when he was having a flare up, as she often wouldn’t leave his side when they happened. Fizz laughed to himself at the thought of Ozzie apparently having a soft spot for abandoned and bruised creatures with white skin and probably a bit too big of a personality for their small bodies. He gently stroked her head and talked sweetly to her as they rode to the mansion, giving him a bit of peace and relief from the pain.
When they finally arrived home, he kept his head down as he walked through the halls, his little pup following him as fast as her little wheels could take her, occasionally chasing after her own tail. This little shit really was precious to Fizz, as she always managed to make him smile no matter how shitty he felt. He made it to the elevator, hating how he was still able to see his reflection in the shiny glass door as it climbed to the penthouse. He looked down again for reassurance as he saw his beloved pet wagging her tail and attempting to flutter her tiny, damaged wings in excitement that her master was home. He wished he was as unbothered as she was about her disabilities. He never saw them slow her down and he was honestly jealous of her ability to cope with pain.
He had finally returned to his sanctuary; their home. The only place he could fully unwind and actually relax. The duo got off the elevator and entered the suite, with Precious immediately running off to her tiny fluffy bed by the fireplace and curling up to sleep, and Fizz awkwardly walking to the kitchen to see his wonderful lover having dinner set out for them.
“Hiya Fizzy!” Ozzie happily shouted, beckoning his boyfriend over for their meal. “I made dinner tonight. Alfredo, your favorite!”
Fizzaroli smiled, touched that even after such a shit day his lover was there to try and cheer him up.
“Thank you, Oz,” he said softly, his throat sore from singing earlier. “It looks great.”
Ozzie pulled out his chair for him, and he sat down. All was well until Ozzie did something that sent Fizz into sensory overload.
As he was talking about how he made the dish, he put his hands on Fizz’s shoulders, causing pain on not only his sensitive skin, but also creating pressure on the spots where his prosthetic arms embedded into his skin. These areas were always tender, even on the best of days, but when Ozzie touched them (gently mind you) today, it sent Fizz flying from the pain. He screamed bloody murder, gritting his teeth, trying to shoo his lover’s hands off of him.
“Holy shit, what’s wrong??? Are you ok?!” The lord of lust asked, letting go and seeing his lover fall to the floor in pain, tears beginning to pour out of his eyes.
“No!… No I’m not!!…” Fizz squeaked, curling into the fetal position. This was the breaking point. He had had enough pain for one day. He couldn’t handle anymore. He began to wail, causing his lover to panic.
“What can I do?! Anything I can help with?!” Ozzie asked in a hurried tone. He knew Fizz always dealt with chronic pain, but he had never reacted like this to just a tender touch gesture.
“My meds… please!… I need one…” the imp cried out, the pain still not subsiding. His whole body was covered in a stinging, sharp pain. He knew his nerves had been fucked up, but it had never had been this bad since the accident itself. His entire body was overstimulated and he simply couldn’t take anymore.
Ozzie nodded, running as quick as he could to the medicine cabinet and grabbing a small glass of water along the way. He returned to Fizz, handing him the large white pill and a drink. The imp took the pill as best he could, all of his nerves still screaming in agony. It felt like his whole body was on fire once again. He finally was able to swallow it and gasped for air shortly after.
“Fuck!!” The younger man screamed, his body unable to sit still from the muscle spasms that accompanied the nerve pain. “Satan fucking dammit!! Make it fucking stop!!… please just make it stop!…”
Ozzie was lost for words. He hated seeing his love in such agony. So much pain caused from such a tragic accident. He used to have someone to blame for all of this, but now knowing that Blitzo didn’t deliberately set his boyfriend on fire as a teenager, he simply had to accept that this entire ordeal was from a misunderstanding and an accident. He wished he could just absorb all his lover’s pain. He’d do anything for him, no matter if it meant putting himself in harms way. He knew he couldn’t console his love at the moment until the nerve pain began to subside, so he simply knelt on the floor next to him, putting his hand gentle on his metal leg, far enough away from where it connected to his actual body. He softly hummed a soothing song to Fizz as the imp’s whimpers began to slow.
As his nerves had finally begun to settle down, Fizz looked down to see his boyfriend trying to be as comforting as he could be. He was touched, but could barely get out words to show his gratitude. He turned his head to also see Precious standing next to him, a very concerned look on her tiny face as she whined, worried about her master. He tried to reach down to Ozzie, but his nerves were so fucked right now that he couldn’t even move his artificial limbs. They were malfunctioning, probably overloaded and short-circuited with the pain and overworked from pushing through the pain to perform. He felt even worse about not being able to do something as basic as grab someone’s hand.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Ozzie said, realizing that Fizz was conscious and focused enough to understand him. He scooted over to be able to see Fizz’s face more clearly.
“It’s… simmering down…” he said, catching his breath, his muscles starting to relax. “Fuck, that was awful…”
“I can tell… what happened? I swear I didn’t mean to hurt your or anything-“
“Oz, it’s fine. You didn’t know what was going on, and I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” the imp said, trying to sit back up as best he could. He struggled to even get his arms to budge, but the best he could manage at the moment were his fingers. “I haven’t been doing good today… at all… sorry to cause all this ruckus…”
“Shh… it’s ok,” Ozzie said, letting him rest on his leg for support. He made sure to not touch anywhere near the prosthetic connections, but softly put his hand on the middle of Fizz’s back, one of the few parts of his body that wasn’t effected by the accident. “Don’t ever worry about apologizing to me if you’re pain. I’m the one who should be apologizing, as I set this off.”
“You really didn’t. I was already running on low power mode when I got here, and I think you might’ve just hit the wrong spot to get my nerves fired up.” His breathing was finally evening out, the pill was beginning to take effect. “I think this changing weather has me all fucked up too. So combine it with everything else, I knew I was a ticking time bomb today. I was just hoping I could pass out in bed before it erupted.”
“I see,” Ozzie said, gently tilting his lover’s head up towards him. “Do you still want dinner? I can feed it to you if you need me to.”
“As much as I appreciate you making all this for me, I’m really not feeling it. I feel like I could puke from the pain…”
“That’s ok, dear,” Ozzie said, reaching down to gentle kiss Fizz’s cheek. He barely made contact with his skin, but it still made Fizz feel more loved and secure. “I’ll have the workers pack it up for tomorrow. We can just have some snacks if you want something to eat later on. Let me help you into bed and to get you comfy.”
Fizz nodded, realizing that his boyfriend was right and he did need to go to bed. He should’ve gone to bed a lot earlier… He couldn’t even walk now, so he knew Ozzie would have to be the to take care of him for the rest of the night. He felt horrible about being such a burden to the Lord of Hell.
Ozzie picked him up gently, holding him bridal style in his large arms. Fizz flinched a bit when getting lifted up, but immediately relaxed into his boyfriend’s body. He loved when he could feel Ozzie’s body heat, especially when he felt as shitty as he did at the moment. Ozzie carried his much smaller lover into their shared bedroom with little Precious trailing along behind her daddies.
Ozzie placed him down gently on their California king bed, laying him so that he could still look at him while laying in bed. He placed several pillows around Fizz’s joints and an extra one to support his fragile back. He pulled up the pink satin sheets and duvet over his lover’s slender body up to his waist, earning another wince from Fizz, who a few moments later fell back at ease. Lastly, he picked up Precious, removed her wheels, and placed her on the bed. She eagerly crawled over to her (favorite) daddy and curled up in a little donut next to his stomach, as if she was trying to comfort him too.
Fizz smiled as Ozzie climbed onto the bed in a seated position. He reached out for his hand and Fizz was able to gently hold it with his artificial digits. He felt so loved in that moment, with the person he loved the most beside him and their spoiled little pet snuggled up to him. Fizz didn’t grow up in the best environment, and this was honestly what he always dreamed of as a little kid. Obviously not the accident portion, but he had always just wanted a simple, domestic life where he could truly relax and be with someone who truly cared about him. He never cared what that person looked like or their rank in the hellscape, but somehow, he was able to score an actual prince who treated him like a king rather than a jester. He never would’ve imagined his life could be this good… minus this unbearable physical pain… He wanted nothing more than to be living in a normal body with no limitations. He wished Ozzie was there to see him when he was able bodied. When he was able to move properly, didn’t need a robo repair kit, and could probably pleasure his boyfriend properly in bed without having to stop after a round or two from pure exhaustion and pain. He would’ve loved to dress in sexy little outfits for his lustful lover and maybe even pole dance for him. Most of all, he just wanted to be able to hug his boyfriend with his own arms, not these mechanical replacements. Ozzie deserved an able bodied lover like that, not the broken mess that he was.
All of these thoughts raced through Fizz’s head in a matter of moments, but Ozzie could see the gears turning in his lover’s mind, especially when he saw more tears begin to fall.
“Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” The taller demon asked softly, showing off of gentle side. “I have some more pillows in the closet if you need them.”
“No, no. I’m about as comfortable as I’m going to get now,” Fizz sighed, looking downward. “Thank you for your help though. I really do appreciate it.”
“You never have to thank me, dear, but you’re more than welcome,” Ozzie answered with a warm smile. “But you still look miserable and I can see something’s not right. Talk to me, Fizzy. What’s on your mind?”
“I just… I’m… I feel…. I’m just… I’m just tired….” the imp started, more and more tears building up. “I’m tired of feeling nothing but pain every goddamn minute of the day! I try my best to hide it. I really do! I try to mask it, but even when I’m having a good day, I still fucking hurt. I move my leg the wrong way and I feel like a hot iron is being shoved through my whole body inside and out. I constantly feel a burning sensation all over my skin, and today, not even the burn ointment is helping calm it.
“At the same time, I’m tired of not being able feeling anything either! You know I can’t feel anything with these fucking robot limbs. Sure, they’re great for my act and I can do different things than other people can, but do you know how much it fucking sucks without being able to feel as much as the breeze on my legs or the temperature of my bath water? I miss being able to feel the sand on my feet at the beach or the coolness of an ice cube melting in my hand. I can only feel pressure with these stupid things. I can’t even feel your hand right now… I know I’m holding it, but I feel nothing but numbness at your touch…
“I am so definitely fucking tired of looking like this. My face looks like Freddy Kruger’s ball sack that got bleach spilt on it and I can’t do a damn thing about it other than slather on creams or hide it with makeup. It’s not bad from far away, but the moment I see a close up or a head shot, I want to just recoil in horror… I want to see my old self… I know it’s been over a decade now, but it still fucks me up when I see white instead of red in the mirror when I wake up… and don’t even get me started on these fucking mess of… horns… my horns were so big and pretty, but now they’re nothing… nothing but rot and pain…
“I miss my voice from before the accident too. I used to be a tenor, singing notes higher than some girls. When I inhaled the smoke of the fire, it burned my vocal cords and ripped some of them to shreds. I’m lucky I honestly have a voice at all…. Now, I sound like a queer version of BeetleJuice who smokes a pack a day. Sure, it’s fine for the character voice I do now, but I could actually sing back then instead of this weird, fucked up sing-talking bullshit. I want to be able to sing ‘Music of the Night’ again…
“I’m tired of the nightmares and flashbacks to that fucking day. They’re not as frequent as before, but my god does it fuck you up to see the flesh literally flake off your arm like a sheet of ice and it’s even worse to keep reliving it in your sleep. I saw my own arm bones fall to ash while still attached to me before I passed out from the pain and brain damage. I’m sure that would fuck anyone up, but it was worse cause I was just a kid….
“I’m also sick of getting triggered by stupid shit that sets me off into panic mode. Like when we saw the fire works after the baseball game in wrath. Remember that I was silent and zoned out for the rest of the night? Yeah, I was reliving getting my fucking body blown to bits and the sound of my own flesh crackling like a fucking hot dog! I can even eat bbq anymore cause it smells like my molten flesh. I used to fucking love ribs, but the charred bones reminds me too much of seeing my fucking femurs melt into a puddle of blood and goo… I can’t even listen to jazz music anymore, as that’s what was playing on the radio when I got blasted to bits, and now I just fucking start crying for no reason…”
The tears were finally fell, soaking the pillow below him. Ozzie could only hold his hand tighter as he continued through the sobs.
“Most of all… I’m tired of being tired… I try so fucking hard every day to make it through with no problems. I try to put on a smile, put on a show, and walk around like my disabilities don’t bother me. That’s what body positivity is about, right? Well, the truth is that I am exhausted every single goddamn day of my life. From the moment I wake up, til the moment I fall asleep, I feel like shit and have zero energy. Why do you think I drink a gallon of coffee every morning? Or why I try to wake up an hour earlier than you do? I don’t want you to see me like this… I want to be able to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. But I can’t…. It hurts too much, I’m too tired, and all I can do is fucking lay here like a blob. I feel like a prisoner in my own damn body that occasionally gets a day of parole from time to time… I want to be free again, but I know I’ll never be released…
“I feel so bad that we can’t do everything that I know you want to do… I know you want to spend your days partying, exploring or whatever, but I know you put things like that off because of me… I know you tell me everything is fine and that you just love spending time with me, but I know deep down that I do nothing but hold you back… I want to please you so badly, in every way. I would love to do all that interesting, kinky sex every single night with you, but my body just won’t let me. I don’t have the strength or ability to do everything I know you’d love for me to do… I’m so frustrated that my stupid hips give out on me like an old man after just one round on top…
“I’m fucking sick of all of it…. I want to be the best I can be for you, Ozzie… but I can’t and I’m tired of it and I hate it… I’m too broken for anyone, let alone you…. I love you so fucking much, but I know that I don’t deserve you…”
“Fizz, please don’t ever talk like that again,” Ozzie said, beginning to cry with his love. “You always have and always will deserve me, no matter any of those factors. You could be at your absolute rock bottom and I will still see you as my soul mate. I get that you’re tired and frustrated or your health issues, but please don’t ever feel like you’re a burden or whatever. No matter what, I’m by your side, forever. I will always love you too, pain and flaws included.”
“Do you really mean that?” Fizz asked, looking his love in the eyes directly. His eyes were wide as saucers and blood shot from crying, but those eyes alway made Ozzie melt.
“From the bottom of my heart, yes,” the lord said, leaning over to gently kiss Fizzaroli’s forehead. “Love and Lust often get confused by humans, but I can tell the difference and I know what I feel for you is nothing but love in its purest form. So you can always count on me, even on the worst days.”
“Thank you…. I really needed to hear that,” the smaller demon said, his cries beginning to soften. “I love you too, Ozzie. So fucking much.”
“You can always come to me if you’re not doing well. You never have to perform if you’re not up to it. The club can fuck off if they have a problem with it.”
“I know, but I like doing the shows. It’s just sometimes I over do things and end up in shambles like this… sorry to bring down mood tonight…”
“What did I just say? Don’t apologize! Your feelings are valid and if you need to vent, you’re more than welcome to do so.”
Precious wiggled around until she was in the middle of the two of them, trying to cheer up her owner. She let out a couple of soft barks, licking their interwoven hands.
“I think she agrees with me!” Ozzie said, petting the dog’s tiny head. They both laughed, bringing a smile to the jester’s cracked and gnarled face.
“But don’t count yourself short on looks there either, mister!” Ozzie turned to his lover. “I think you look handsome no matter what you’re wearing or have on your face, even as you are now. Even with your cap off.”
Fizzaroli blushed, still managing to get humbled by his long term boyfriend’s romantic gestures.
“C-can you take my hat off?” Fizz asked, with a blush. “It’s giving me a headache and… I think I feel comfortable enough to go without it with you.”
“Absolutely, my dear,” Ozzie said with a genuine smile, feeling honored that Fizz was able to let down his biggest wall with him. He had never seen Fizz’s horns properly before. Maybe a glimpse here or there, but never fully uncovered and exposed. This was definitely a trust exercise for Fizz and Ozzie made sure to be as gentle and compassionate as he could be.
He unsnapped the hat’s buttons and slowly peeled back the cap to reveal his lover’s burnt and broken horns. Fizz was cringing, unable to open his eyes due to the touch of pain and the fear of rejection.
“You’re absolutely beautiful, my darling,” Ozzie said softly before kissing the space between the horns on the top of his head while snaking his arms around him as best he could. The Lord truly meant every word of that. He knew how significant horns were to imps, and even though Fizz’s weren’t long and perfect, they were truly beautiful to Ozzie, because they were his.
Fizz could only look up with adoration. He was dumbstruck. No one had ever called his horns beautiful before, even before the accident. A sigh of pure relief and a feeling calming ecstasy engulfed him, causing him to fully relax and release the tension his body had built up over the day. He was truly loved, even if he was a fucked up mess. He tried to hug his boyfriend back, but he couldn’t get more than his fingers to twitch.
“It’s alright,” Ozzie said with a chuckle. “I can feel your love surround me, even without arms.”
Touched to the core, Fizz nuzzled his love’s face gently, showing his physical love in the best way he knew how; being able to touch his lover with his true skin. He could feel how warm Ozzie’s touch was and for a moment, he was in his own personal paradise.
“Ready for a movie night? I saw a new comedy I thought you’d like when I was browsing earlier,” Ozzie asked, breaking the hug and sitting back up.
“Definitely! I wanted this all day!” Fizz said, resting his head back on the pillow, his bare horns touching fabric other than his caps for the first time in years.
The two of them cuddled on their bed for the remainder of the night, with little Precious snuggled between her daddies all night. They watched a few silly films and Ozzie even fed him some sweets and chips when his stomach had finally calmed down. Fizz eventually fell asleep in complete peace, realizing that even on his worst days, that there was always a ray of hope in his life. Although he’d never been fully without pain, he’d always have someone there to take care of him in his time of need and help him through his crazy life.