Title: Not A Day Goes By That I'm Not Imprisoned By Thoughts Of You
Author: Keith
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Setting: Ozzie's House, Ozzie's Limousine, Ozzie's Club
Pairing: Fizzarolli/Asmodeus | Ozzie
Characters: Fizzarolli, Barbie Wire, Original Male Character(s), Asmodeus | Ozzie
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1737
Type Of Work: One-Shot, Day 5 Of 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Alcohol, Alcoholic, Threats, Threats Of Violence, Pining, Nausea, Lucifer Mention, RoboFizz Mention
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Brick.
Summary: With Ozzie being away, all Fizzarolli could do was wait for his return.
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!
I'm not entirely sure what this fic even is, and I'm not sure if I really care. It was honestly a lot of fun to play with. I should probably make note that I write Fizz and Barbie being pretty close friends even with whatever happened between Blitzo and Fizz. That might be important. Anyway, here we go!
Not A Day Goes By That I'm Not Imprisoned By Thoughts Of You
A loud, drawn-out sigh sounded from Fizzarolli as he rested his head on his folded arms on the windowsill. He'd been sitting on the window seat sighing for the better part of an hour, now, and it was getting ridiculous. The RoboFizzes had taken to checking on him every now and then, but he kept shooing them off with pushes from his extended arms or legs. Wordlessly, he stared out the window like it might just provide him with what he wanted.
Ozzie had had to go to a huge conference between the Kings of Hell, and he'd be gone for three whole days. The house was so quiet without him around, lifeless and all Fizzarolli wanted to do was sleep. He still had work that night, but he didn't really want to go. Pretending he was happy and excited about his job was definitely possible, but it felt hollow without Ozzie there to encourage him. Every time this happened, he was moody and impossible to please the entire time, going so far as to plead with him before he left to call it off.
He'd only been gone for three hours, his trek to the hotel they were going to meet at in the Pride Ring was probably well over, by now, he'd be unpacking, probably. Fizzarolli imagined him sitting in the back of the Hellevator, stroking himself absently through the tight leggings he'd put on. The entire room would get a show, and Olli had to miss it.
This is very prestigious and unfortunately very exclusive. Nobody can bring a plus one, it isn't just me. I hate these stupid conventions, they kill my sex life for three days, I'm going to come back and raw you.
Fizzarolli was ready for that to happen now. He had been tempted to stow away in his luggage, but he knew Ozzie would be disappointed with him at best, and very angry at worst. Still, it meant three days without him, three days where he felt useless, tiny, and depressed. Who knew that the fun little clown boy could be so damn sad? And, apparently, angry if his brooding was interrupted.
Brick didn't know what had gotten into, or out of, Olli when he'd gone to pick him up before the show. There wasn't a smile on the clown's face nor a single joke out of him. No, he was scowling, he didn't make eye contact, and he straight up ignored anyone talking to him. He was acting like they'd broken up or something, and the bodyguard didn't know exactly what to say, so he didn't speak. Brick wasn't all that good with words, but he wasn't being paid to hold a conversation. Thankfully.
"You know, I can't go with him, either." He finally stated when the silence in the car kept making his nose itch. Seeing Fizzarolli like this and being his personal attendant until Ozzie got back was spelling trouble for him. Brick already knew he'd be seeing a fatter paycheck this time around.
Fizzarolli's head didn't lift from where it rested against the window of the car, and he did little more than growl, initially. Somehow, he was going to have to put a smile on his face by the time they got to Ozzie's (it would feel empty now that he had to perform without the namesake present), and Brick didn't seem to want to let him do that. The incubus wouldn't keep his mouth shut, stop looking at him, or give him five fucking minutes alone in the back seat of one of Ozzie's insanely large limousines. Even riding in the gargantuan baby pink car wasn't doing it for him.
"When we get there, I need some Beelzejuice."
Brick rose an eyebrow at the demand, though he didn't comment. It always did strike him as funny how Ozzie and Fizzarolli had a habit of copying each other without knowing it. Ozzie drank when he got pissy, too. Good money could be placed on the bet that neither of them would admit to it, either, but he'd seen it with his own eyes.
Upon arrival, he had a bottle in hand, and Fizzarolli set to work making a phone call and drinking his bad mood away as much as he could in his dressing room. For several minutes, he stood in front of his vanity, poking the mirror as he spoke to himself. What nobody else saw was that he was back at the circus, staring into the dingy, half-cracked mirror precariously placed on the dresser he and the other clowns had used. He hadn't had to be his own hype man in a while; Usually, Ozzie did that for him. Hell, Ozzie just being there hyped him up.
"You can do this, Fizz." He managed, sighing heavily as he glanced away. Shaking his head, he growled again, "You're going to do this." Eyes back on himself, he opened them as wide as he could for a moment, drinking in his appearance. After a moment, he paused, then tried on a different tone, though his voice could never quite be the right kind of smooth, "You got this, Olli Baby." It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but the nickname helped. One of these days he'd have to get a recording of Ozzie saying it for him, because it perked him up enough to lift his phone.
Having Barbie on the phone seemed to help some, once she was put through, and he had to pretend he wasn't halfway to drunk for a few minutes. But Barbie had the keenest of noses when it came to alcohol, and even through the phone, he imagined her picking it up, scenting the air, and glaring at the receiver. Her lips parted with an audible wet sound, and he heard her teeth grind, and he knew he was caught.
"No the fuck you are not, dick!" She finally whined, bouncing in place on the uncomfortable plastic chair in the hallway near her room at the rehab center, "No way you're drunk dialing me right now, tease."
"Barbs, it's not like that…" He replied with a stunted laugh, grinning distantly at himself in the mirror, "Ozzie's gone again an–"
"So you're pissy that your not-boyfriend's with someone else? So you're being an asshole?" Barbie supplied with a knowing sigh, rolling her eyes. Of course, this had to do with Ozzie, didn't it?
"Not… Not pissy, and he's not with someone else, he's just… Stuck at that conference thing. Nobody can go with him because it's high royalty exclusive shit." The bottle came back to his lips and she heard him gulp, immediately growling into the receiver.
"Don't, Fizz, I'm gonna crawl through the phone and drink it out of your stomach my damn self." That made him gag.
"Gross, Barbs, you're gonna make me–" Retching again, he clamped his eyes shut, "Ugh… Fine, I'll put it down." Setting the bottle down with an audible clink, he straightened back up, turning to lean his hip against the counter instead of staring at himself more, "Better?"
"Yeah, I guess." She replied in that nasally, lofty way she did when she was thinking. Either he'd said or didn't say something that he should have, and he didn't have the mental wherewithal to figure out which it was on his own.
"Barbs?" His friend had been quiet for a few minutes or so, and he didn't know exactly where it was going to take him, but he didn't think he liked it.
"What…?" Her attention seemed to slowly return to the conversation she was having, and she scratched absently at her cheek, "You turned on the news?"
"...No? Should I?" Immediately his heart fell and he scrambled for the remote to the little TV on the back wall of his dressing room, nearly dropping the phone. He was going to pretend he didn't hear her giggle on the other end of the line.
"Channel thirteen," Barbie snickered once she was sure he had the phone settled against his face again, and he only hoped he wasn't going to see some fucking assassination attempt bullshit like last year. He vaguely wondered if that was why he was so worried, except that he wasn't worried, and if Barbie heard the panicked quickening of his breathing, no she didn't.
"What's going–"
The sight he was met with was one that stopped his heart in the best way. Ozzie, for what it was worth, was mostly in a background shot of Lucifer talking before a grand banquet table. Fizzarolli knew that slow blink well, the way he rubbed his eyes one at a time and the yawns that broke each pair of lips in easy succession. Once one head seemed to have finished, the next picked it up until they had to avoid looking at one another. The King was ten seconds away from falling asleep, and it melted his little imp entirely.
"...Thanks Barbs." He finally managed, "How did you know?"
"They've been playing the thing about it all day in the main room," Barbie explained, "He's on screen so I figured I'd tell you. Is he really that tired?"
"He didn't get any sleep before he had to go. Work doesn't end until five some mornings, and we still don't go to bed when we get home." He didn't seem to notice what he'd said until she hummed knowingly at him, and he could see the grin on her face through the phone, "Wh– Barbie, no. Don't start that shit again."
"Just sayin', if you two weren't a thing, I doubt he'd take you home all the time. You live there, and he's not the roommate type, right?"
"Show's starting, Barbs, gotta go." He still had fifteen minutes, but he was too drunk to have those kinds of thoughts.
"Right, right, have fun being silly and charming." She purred at him playfully, and he rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. At least he'd found the thing that would help perk him up for his set that night. He was going to miss those glowing eyes not being on him, unfortunately, but at least he'd have enough Beelzejuice on him to be able to get through it. Maybe, if he was lucky, Ozzie would call him, too.
He didn't want to think about what being unlucky would put his heart through.
AN: I ended up getting hungover (I don't think drunk is the right word for it) and so I didn't finish this as quickly as I'd wanted to. Regardless, I'm happy with how it came out, and I hope y'all like it!
Prompt: 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Day 5 - Hurt