Chapter Text
Fizz is questioning why he pushed for this so hard.
Before tonight, it’d been two months since he’d seen Blitzo. He understood - when he’d first entered his serious relationship with Ozzie, he was glued to the other’s side for damn near a year. It wasn’t like he had anyone else in his life at the time, to be fair.
Blitzo does have friends, though, and ever since he got into an official relationship with the ex-prince Stolas, he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em. Every time he’s texted he has an excuse - “Nah, Stolas n I hav date nite”, or “Sry cant stols has apoyntmint” or, the most ridiculous, “nxt wek sry stols needs hlp prening tmrw” (he’d preened without you for thirty-four years and he couldn’t do it alone for one night? Okay.).
Apparently Blitzo’s closest friends and coworkers, Moxxie and Millie, had been getting pretty much the same treatment outside of the office. And, like, it was fine. Fizz went fifteen years without talking to Blitz - it wasn’t that big a deal he hasn’t seen him in a while now. It was just that he was, y’know, worried. Being around someone that much can be unhealthy, you know? He didn’t want the two of them to become codependent, or anything.
When he’d shown the texts to Ozzie and bemoaned his worries, Ozzie called him on his bullshit immediately, the bitch. “Sounds like you’re just a little jealous, babe.”
Fizz pouted and turned away in response, making Ozzie laugh and throw the blanket over the imp with a huff. The clown was wrapped up into a Fizz-burrito and brought up to Ozzie’s chest, where he immediately snuggles into and purrs, tongue blepping out the left side of his mouth.
What can he say? He was a weak man. Still, he doesn’t go down without a little fight. “M not jealous. Jus’ worried.”
“Fizzzieee, please, you and I were basically one unit when we started dating. We still are! It’s okay if you just miss Blitzo.”
And Fizz grumbled, and wriggled his arms out of the burrito so he can wrap them around Ozzie’s neck, with as many loops as the extensions would allow. He pressed their bodies closer. “Maybe,” he grumbled.
The next week, he’d texted Blitzo with a newfound sort of resolve. The first notice was succinct and to the point - “Tuesday, right after work, dinner near ur office. You have no choice. It’s happening.”
And Blitzo had, like usual, responded positively - until Monday, when Fizz predictably got a message saying one thing or another was happening with Stolas and Blitz suddenly couldn’t make it. He didn’t read it because the message didn’t matter to him - he was expecting this.
The next day, right around four-thirty, he leaves Ozzie’s penthouse via the elevator and makes his way towards downtown Pride. Taking pause only for three coffees - him, Blitzo, and something he hopes Stolas will like based on what he knows about the guy - he makes his way to the office.
When he approaches the door he hears commotion on the other side, and he relaxes - at least he isn’t too late, and they haven’t gone home. One knock, then two, and then the door swings open, and Blitzo, looking behind him and smiling, starts to say, “Sorry fucko, we’re close-”, before looking forward instead and locking eyes with Fizzarolli.
His smile falls a little, right into a sad one, and he winces. “Ah, Fizz! Sorry, I sent you a text- I don’t think-”
“Nope.” Fizz hands Blitzo his coffee, then walks right into the office, giving Moxxie and Millie a hello as he passes and Loona an excited wave - he loves being an uncle! When he spots Stolas, sitting at the secretary’s desk and watching the ordeal with a small smile and a cute pair of glasses balanced on the arch of his beak, he makes his way over, and hands him a hot lavender latte.
“Can I steal your boyfriend for two hours?” He asks. “I swear I’ll drop him off in good conditions.”
“Oh!” Stolas cries, looking down at the coffee - his second of the day, since they always get a morning round - with widened eyes. Then, he looks back up. “Of course you can! There was no need to bribe me, of course, but thank you for the drink, as well.”
Fizz is pretty sure Blitz never even told the bird he ever wanted to hang out with the imp. The sort of bashful look on Blitzo’s face when he turns around confirms it, but it doesn’t matter - he grabs the assassin by the elbow and drags him out of the office, down the street, and towards the diner.
Now, they’re here, sitting at a table with a fat plate of fries between them and ketchup staining their fingers as they ate. At first Blitzo continued to fight him - “Dude, I gotta- Stolas needs help making dinner-”, but once they were seated, Fizz was able to convince him into one dish, as long as it was greasy. He had confidence he would get at least an hour outta him.
At first, conversation was sorta normal. Fizz tries to steer it towards business - “So, how's the company? Are you still seeing increased numbers from the trial?”
Blitzo responds, “Oh, yeah! Numbers are doing great - and Stolas is keeping track of them, which he’s great at! It’s sort of his thing - it’s so cute watching him get super concentrated, and he gets all excited when he makes it work.”
Fizz rolled his eyes. Okay, Blitz was gonna have a hard time staying on topic - that’s fine. He can handle a challenge. “How’s Loona? She looked well, in the office.”
“My Looney is doing great! She’s really settling in now, I think; her friends come over to the apartment all the time, and I think they’re all pretty great kids. It was a lil’ awkward at first, with Stolas, but now that he’s all settled in, he gets along with everyone really well. He’s so funny in a crowd once he lets his guards down around people and doesn’t feel as anxious. And he and Loona get along so well! He’s gotten her to let her guard down in ways I haven’t, which is fucking rad. Sometimes they gang up on me, those fuckers, but Stolas is- well, he’s pretty, so it’s cool-”
“Okay, okay!” Fuck, uhm… “What do you do for fun, right now?”
Blitzo smirks at him and Fizz realizes a moment too late what he’s walked into. “I do a beautiful, sexy bird for fun, three times a day. Sometimes four. And I don’t just do him for fun, either - I do him for instinct, for love, for need. Shits my breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”
Fizz is at least laughing now. “Shit, you’re self-aware.”
Blitzo’s smirk only grows. “I take any opportunity I can to talk about Stolas. Y’know, years ago, if someone had tried to get me to talk about Verosika, I would just shut down. Now people can’t get me to shut up.” He shrugs, his smile melting around the edges as he takes a sip of the sugar-filled soda he’d ordered. The ketchup from his fingers stains the glass.
Fizz is smiling too, begrudginly. “Yeah, I get that,” he eats another fry. “I guess I’m like that with Ozz, too.”
Blitz scoffs. “Yeah, I’ve walked in on you two suckin’ face waaaay too many times for you to be judging the way I talk about Stolas, you horny fuck.”
Fizz laughs and they continue talking. Predictably, Blitzo loops back around to Stolas - to how soft his feathers are, and how perfect it is to wake up all warm and pressed up against them in the morning. To his laugh, how rare it was in the beginning and how plentiful now, since Octavia is back in his life. To his love of plants and books and soap operas. To how Stolas knows him so well that he can tell when Blitzo is sad or happy, can tell when he’s lying or telling the truth, when he needs a break, when he needs to get up and move.
“I just love him so much.” He says, looking down at the empty plate of once-pancakes he’d been subsequently goaded into ordering twenty minutes ago. “I love being in love with him. I love telling everyone that I love being in love with Stolas. I can’t believe how lucky I am half the time, being able to hold him and kiss him. And I think of all the Goetia who didn’t see his value and it blows my fucking mind because he’s so- he’s just so-” , he waves his hands, “He’s Stolas!" He shakes his head. “I’d kill every last one ‘em, if I could. I just don’t think someone who treats someone like him like that deserves to live. And he’s so good, despite it all. He still chooses to love his plants, his teas, his soaps, me, Loonie. Because he’s so good like that.”
Blitz takes a deep breath and Fizz just stares at him - really stares at him, the lighter color under his eyes, the way his shoulders sink lower than they did before, his posture relaxed. “I just fucking love him, Fizz.”
When they left one another, their two hours up, Fizz makes Blitz promise to text him, but he’s less annoyed about the whole thing than he was before, even if he knows his friends' promises are likely hollow.