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    Summary

    Fizz reached out and touched the splash of white scar across Blitz’s hip. “It’s not fair,” he said softly. “Why do you get to look like that when I–” Fizz kneaded his chest with his other hand. Blitz recognized the movement. Since childhood, Fizz had said that a feeling of tightness in his chest always preceded a panic attack.

    Blitz was no good with words. Guilt swirled through him like silt through disturbed water, but he was so used to this feeling that it barely registered.

    Instead, he pushed Fizz down on his back on the tumbling mats and knelt over him on his hands and knees. He lowered his mouth to kiss him, and Fizz wrapped his arms around Blitz’s neck.

     

    Ozzie asks Blitz to escort Fizz to practice, and the two of them reminisce while getting handsy.

    Series
    Language:
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