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Blitzø has a boyfriend.
(He's also the only one who doesn't know it yet.)
It's kind of fascinating. Fizz has only seen Blitzø look at ONE other person like that…
And yet he's pretending he isn't?
Stolas is the only one it's working on.
Fizz's still surprised Blitzø agreed to this. It's, well, essentially a double date… in everything but name, since he and Ozzie aren't public.
"Almost ready, babe?" Ozzie asks, peeking into the room.
"Ready!" Fizz chirps.
They've both got good taste, but it's not the SAME taste, so they usually switch off. Tonight, Ozzie picked the restaurant, and Fizz picked the outfits.
Fizz isn't scared of rich people. Hell, he IS rich people, now anyway. Generational wealth, though… that's different from earning it like himself and Ozzie. That's someone with probable power.
Probably overthinking. Stolas is just a man… a man who likes BLITZØ, so how smart can he really be?
They get there first.
"Table for Asmodeus?" Ozzie asks. (He's GOT a surname, but Fizz has never once heard Ozzie use it… kind of like himself. Mononymic.)
While Ozzie finds their table, Fizz hangs around the entrance. Hopefully this place isn't too fancy for Blitzø. At worst, it's got fried chicken, so he'll probably be fine.
Blitzø gets there before Stolas. He looks a little out of place, with his fraying sleeves and combat boots, but Fizz waves Blitzø over before he can get too visibly uncomfortable.
"Hey!" Squeeze the air outta Blitzø. "You made it." Light shoulder slap.
Blitzø rubs his arm. "Guess so." He laughs.
They wait ten minutes for Stolas, who's slightly out of breath when he arrives.
"Apologies for the wait," he says.
Oh, he's FORMAL-formal.
"Hasn't been that long," Fizz says. "Fizzarolli." He steps forward, answering the handshake Stolas asks. "So you're the infamous Stolas."
"INfamous?" Stolas raises an eyebrow. "Blitzø, what have you been telling people about me?"
"Nothing. Shut up." His face is so red.
"Table?" Fizz asks, and leads the way when Stolas nods. Blitzø trails behind at the back, like he's trying not to draw attention, and he's trying not to make eye contact.
"Ah, there you are," Ozzie greets him warmly. Fizz resists the urge to kiss Ozzie on the cheek, instead nudging Ozzie's shoulder with his own as he sits beside him.
"So, you must be Asmodeus?" Stolas asks, ignoring the menu.
"Oh, please, 'Ozzie.'"
"Ozzie it is, then," Stolas says—like he's excited to use someone's nickname. "I'll admit," he turns to Fizz, "I don't know much about YOU, or your relationship with Blitzø."
(Blitzø is staring at the menu, but his eyes aren't moving.)
It's kind of Blitzø's story to tell. But Fizz can share a little.
"Well, our parents were friends," he starts. "My mom was close with Blitzø's, and then when she passed, Blitzø's family took me in."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Stolas says reflexively.
"It's been decades," Fizz dismisses with a reassuring smile. "Of course I still miss her, but it's not as bad."
(Fizz checks in on Blitzø. Blitzø's shoulders are slightly lower than they were when Stolas asked.)
"And Blitzø's family ran a theater troupe."
"Really?" Stolas turns to Blitzø. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, I didn't, uh, mention it," Blitzø mumbles.
"Did he act?" Stolas shakes his head. "(No, I'll ask Blitzø later.) It makes sense, because you're a film actor now."
"Yeah, I got my start on the stage," Fizz says, "but I probably always would've been an actor."
"Yes, Fizz is a natural," Ozzie chimes in affectionately.
"Aw, stop," Fizz grins.
Stolas and Ozzie order like they'd figured it out beforehand. Fizz points to a random item on the menu and commits (trying new things is fun).
Blitzø… stares at the menu for an almost uncomfortably long time. The server coughs. Finally, "Chicken strips." He clears his throat. "Uh. Please."
"Coming right up."
"So, patio seats, eh?" Fizz tries to rescue the vibe.
"Oh, yes, it's quite nice out here." Stolas looks around.
Blitzø's eyes follow the line of the hanging lights.
"Ozzie can get seats anywhere," Fizz brags.
"So could you," Ozzie says.
"But YOU have the, uh, professional expertise," Fizz refutes.
The conversation shifts to Stolas.
"I wish I could say I've gone out for dinner at places like this, but it was usually when my father had a business meeting and wanted to look good." Stolas laughs… and then he looks uncomfortable, like he's realizing that's not normal.
"What's your father do?" Ozzie asks.
"I, ah…" Stolas frowns. "I genuinely don't know. I've never asked." This time, when he laughs, it's baffled.
"Rich people." Blitzø rolls his eyes. "Fake jobs." (He realizes Fizz and Ozzie are technically "rich people.") "…present company excluded."
"Blitzø," Stolas chides—but he doesn't look mad. He's smiling. He finds Blitzø funny. (Good for them.)
"It's the truth!" Blitzø says. (He seems more comfortable.)
"Fizzarolli?"
Ah, a fan!
"Hello, hello!" He hops up from his seat. "Whatcha want? Selfie? Sign your forehead? Record a voice memo for your mom?"
"Uh," she laughs, "a selfie, with you, please."
Fizz has longer arms than she does, so he holds the phone, and he makes a silly face with his tongue out. She grins when he hands it back, and he gives a playful salute. "Go on, now." He makes sure not to let it feel like he's shooing.
When he returns to his seat, Blitzø's staring.
Fizz raises an eyebrow.
"How do you do that?" Blitzø asks.
"Do what?"
"Just…" Blitzø sighs. "Never mind."
Fizz waits a moment, and Blitzø doesn't speak again. "Okay."
Blitzø and Stolas aren't physically affectionate, but in their defense, Fizz and Ozzie also try to keep it to a minimum in public. Still, that isn't all there is to a couple. (Because they're a couple. Who are they fooling?)
This IS a double date.
It's not exactly smooth sailing, but Fizz would say it goes well.
Around ten, Fizz yawns, and Ozzie's on him in seconds.
(Fizz can almost hear the stifled 'babe.') "Do you need to go home?" Ozzie asks. "You told me you haven't been sleeping well this week."
"I told you that in confidence," Fizz gasps. "I'm okay!" He yawns again. "Really."
"Doesn't have to be home," Ozzie reminds. (Blitzø's watching. Stolas is at least pretending not to.) "There's always mine…"
"10:30?" Fizz bargains.
"10:30," Ozzie agrees.
At 10:32, they leave Blitzø and Stolas to fend for themselves.
"Good luck," Fizz grins.
"Shut up." Blitzø visibly considers throwing a bread roll at Fizz, but doesn't choose violence.
"Think they're gonna be okay?" Fizz asks Ozzie as they leave.
"Either they'll figure it out, or they won't. Only time will tell."