Title: Paradise Lost
Author: Keith
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Setting: Ozzie's
Pairing: Fizzarolli/Asmodeus | Ozzie
Characters: Fizzarolli, Asmodeus | Ozzie
Genre: Drama/Romance/Hurt/(no)Comfort
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1426
Type Of Work: One-Shot, Day 14 - Of 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Set Directly After Ozzie's, Moxxie/Millie Mention, Moxxie Mention, Millie Mention, Blitzo Mention, Original Male Character(s) Mention, Hurt/No Comfort, Blood, Injury, I Took Some Liberties With Fizzarolli's Injuries, I Also Took Some Liberties With The Layout Of Ozzie's But That Isn't News, Nausea, Hemophobia, Hemophobia Mention, Established Relationship
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Brick.
Summary: This time, he couldn't place the blame on Blitzo, even if he kind of wanted to.
AN: Hey guys, it's me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a Helluva Boss Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Gimme-A-Thrust! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr/Twitter!
Okay, so, this one is a little bit more canon-compliant than most of my fics, I think. More or less. Though it is definitely a bit bloodier than the episode, I figured that it would work out. I wanted more blood, I guess? Regardless, I got this one done early, too, which gives me a chance to work on something else for a bit. I keep pecking at other things when I'm not running too late on the next prompt.
Requests on Gimme-A-Thrust, and the Dark & Cozy fest fic I have are the main focus but I've had to rework the D&C fic several times, now. Hopefully I can get something that sticks.
Paradise Lost
"Yeah, well, you don't have to be a giant dick about it." Fizzarolli snarled under his breath, crossing his arms tighter over his chest as he kept his flat stare focused on the wall across from him. Ozzie's lips were drawn in a thin line, his eyes cut into sharp slits as he dabbed at the dried blood running retired, orange-brown trails from Olli's nose down his cheek. His shirt had been tossed to the side already, forgotten after it left him gagging with the blood on it. Ozzie didn't want him to throw up.
"Can't help it," Asmodeus offered as he wiped a little harder at the other's chin with the wet rag in his hand, making an attempt at his usual bright smile that didn't quite land, "Giant demon, giant dick. I thought you liked that about me."
Growling, the imp chittered as his teeth clattered together in a clear warning, and Ozzie rolled his eyes.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were mad at me, not those little bitches that did this to you." While it was meant to be a simple, unbiased observation, Fizzarolli's rotten mood tinted his words and the King just about lost his thumb when it swiped over his bottom lip. Yanking his hand back with a surprised yelp, he gaped at his new wound, his glove soon blooming red. Holding it so that Fizzarolli wouldn't see the blood, he furrowed his brows.
Yeah, that much he expected as soon as he was bitten. Those teeth were clearly meant to render flesh from bone, but he'd never found himself in a situation like this. Bleeding from a bite that his lover gave him? A perfectly normal thing that one didn't have to be Stolas in order to foresee. To be bitten in the first place?
Sure, yeah, no, those teeth hurt because of course, they did, but what stung, maybe even ripped into him sharper, was the sudden aggression on his little lover's end. Fizzarolli's arms tightened over his chest, wrapping around his back and over again until his torso was a coil of black, ribbed metal. A firm pout was affixed to his lips, and he either wouldn't or couldn't look at Ozzie, his eyes intensely focused on the wall to the left of his head. The room was dimly lit, the slowly cycling blue to purple to pink neon lights too bright for the sharp pain behind his eyes, and he finally closed his eyes.
Sitting in silence for a long moment, Ozzie just gawked at Olli, his eyes dropping to his thumb and lifting again to take in his lover's displeased, squinty-eyed scowl. Well, if he didn't want his help, then there wasn't anything that he could really do about it, right?
"Alright, Olli Baby." His voice was quiet, muted in a way that made the imp's nose wrinkle up, and Ozzie held his hands out in a placating gesture before dropping the injured one at his side. Thrusting his shoulders forward, Ozzie rocked a few times to put himself back on his feet, and he packed up what was left of the medical supplies Brick had given him, "You want me back, you know where to find me."
Fizzarolli's head whipped around so fast his neck cracked, and he blinked a couple of times in rapid succession as he watched Ozzie sashay to the door. For a few seconds, he was torn between saying something and letting him go, and his hands twitched against his own arms. Eyes following him until he'd left the room, he listened for the other's footsteps going down the stairs to the floor. A minute passed by, then two, then five, and Fizzarolli felt cold, alone, and stupidly irritated.
Irritated with the silence, irritated with those imps, irritated by Blitzo, irritated with himself…
Finally unraveling his arms from himself, he took the wet rag in his hand and kept wiping his face, notably rougher than Ozzie had been. Scrubbing at the dried blood felt better than acknowledging what he'd done because for a few minutes he just wanted to think less. Ozzie hadn't done anything wrong, not really, but his head was pounding and he hadn't really wanted to be fussed at or over. When it came down to it, he didn't want to be pitied. Maybe that came from his background, but he'd been more and more offended the more he thought about it.
After Moxxie and his bitch (her name was lost to the annals of time, because fuck her, seriously) had left the club, Ozzie had been nothing but kind to him. Too kind, Fizzarolli's pride reminded him again as he drug the soft fabric under his nose, flinching. Don't look down, he encouraged himself, Don't. Fucking. Do. It.
Not that he'd be able to keep his eyes off of the rag forever.
Hanging his legs over the edge of the desk, he let his feet just drop to the floor, only following them once they were secure. The tile nearly glowed, a dark blue with pale yellow grout reflecting the strip of light sunken into the wall near the ceiling, and he squinted as he crossed it. Rubbing the side of his head, he reached back with one arm to snag his ice pack off of the table as he rounded the large, white leather couch. Stepping straight up to the one-way mirror that made up the wall facing the main room of the club with the best vantage point in the place other than Ozzie's balcony, he sighed.
Placing his free hand against the glass as he pressed the ice against his injury, he frowned as his eyes teared up a little bit. Sure, he'd been feeling pretty sour at first, only to end up acidic before he'd chased his lover out the damn door of his own damned establishment. That wasn't a good look. Ozzie wouldn't hold it against him, he didn't think, but he didn't quite know for sure, either. Their fights were few and far between, and for Ozzie to just duck out like that? It left him uneasy as he watched the elder flouncing towards the back of the club where the kitchen was with Brick, no doubt leaving the club through the large doors in the back. Whatever they were talking about looked serious, but he couldn't read their lips from here, not from this angle.
Glancing back at the desk, he sucked in a deep breath, taking the space between the window, over the coffee table, and to the couch with two exaggerated strides. Curling up into a ball against the corner of the soft, malleable sofa, he sniffled a little bit, extending his arm once more to swipe his phone from the thick, heavy wooden escritoire. In under a minute, he unlocked his phone only to lock it again and repeat the motion because now it was the principle of the thing.
Ozzie would probably expect him to wait, to take some time to blow off steam, and 'some time' was definitely not 'eight and a half minutes.' Fizzarolli was miserable, from his aching head and bloody nose to the consequences of his own actions. He hadn't meant to snap, but he was in pain, and he wasn't thinking clearly. That didn't mean that running down the stairs and leaping on the King of Lust's back to beg him not to leave him at the club all night was the best course of action, here.
Most likely his lover was upset with him, too. Just because he was already ready to apologize already didn't mean that Ozzie was ready to hear it.
Pinching his phone between his thumb and forefinger, he dropped it on the other side of the large divan, hiding his face in his knees. Tears. Crying. He was crying, and some part of him was begging to stop. You know better. This probably made him disgusting on top of being the asshole here, and he couldn't stomach it. That only seemed to make him sob more, though he tried his best to stave it off if only for the sake of his head.
He didn't know how long he'd sat there, or when he'd dozed off, but he had barely moved his face from his knees by the time the door to the office opened again. Too tired to even lift his head, he didn't bother scenting the air or saying anything, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
AN: Ope, that sure did happen, huh? I kind of like the idea that they're at least a little co-dependent, they don't like being without one another for a lot of reasons. I had so much fun on this one, honestly, I loved working on it. It wasn't as long as the last two days were, but longer than I thought it would be. And look, one of the few fics that I have them in that didn't turn into smut at least a little bit! I think that's pretty rare, actually.
Prompt: 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Day 14 - Arguing/Fighting