Work Text:
Something was off this time. He knew. He just knew.
Of course, at first glance Fizzarolli acted the same as always, giving an amazing performance at the club and being his adorable funny self when they were alone. But his eyes didn’t shine as brightly as they normally would, and the way he clung to him when they cuddled struck him as desperate instead of enamored.
He asked what was wrong, but his little jester dismissed his worries and tried to seem as if his eyes didn’t turn to look at the calendar Asmodeus had in his room, in a corner where it wasn’t noticed unless one looked for it.
For a long time he didn't keep one in his room, the agenda he kept in his office being more than enough to keep him conscious of his meetings and other responsibilities. But now, when his days with his boyfriend were numbered, he had to be aware of the date, no matter how much it hurt to see the number go down so soon. It was more important to him to make the most of the time they had together.
Though, with Fizz, anything short of an eternity wouldn’t be enough.
( And wasn’t that terrifying? To know the power that tiny imp had over him? To find himself completely head over heels for him?)
So he bit his tongue and tried to cheer up his imp, nuzzling him and spoiling him rotten with food and his favorite movies and series. Even the crew back at Ozzie’s seemed to pick up on his mood, years of working side by side making them familiar enough with Fizz outside of his stage persona to notice something was wrong. They also tried (much more subtly than him) to cheer Fizzarolli up, but all it seemed to accomplish was Fizz trying harder to act as if everything was fine.
None of them bought it.
A week had already passed, and they found their way to the bed after an amazing dinner at their favorite restaurant where, to his delight, Fizzarolli had laughed at his jokes with a sincere glow in his eyes.
Maybe everything is better , he thought, sitting on the bed and setting Fizz on his lap.
It was actually the first time that week that they had taken it further than a heavy make out, too focused on catching up and enjoying their time together. And in Asmodeus’ case, figuring out what had his boyfriend so bummed out.
He took the hem of Fizz’s sweater, ready to take it off and do what he had been waiting four months to do, when suddenly Fizzarolli stopped him, an almost panicked edge in his voice.
It took him by surprise. Fizz had been really insecure about his body at the beginning of their relationship, but that was long gone.
So why…?
He couldn’t even ask what was wrong, his fingers moving quickly to let go of the sweater at Fizz’s request and accidentally poking the imp’s side.
The pained gasp that resulted had him narrowing his eyes.
“Fizz…” he started, gently but firmly lifting Fizz’s chin up when he tried to evade his gaze “Are you hurt?” No response “Fizz, please”
“I’m alright” he muttered, trying to free himself but he didn’t budge.
He closed the distance between their faces, putting their foreheads together “Why are you lying?”
“I…I…” he could see the panic in Fizz’s face, trying to find an answer, a solution, anything that would keep him content and also hide whatever it was he was hiding. It pained him to see him like this, but he kept his eyes locked in his, determined to get an answer out of him.
He could see the moment he gave up, the panic dropping from his face and his eyes filled with sorrow.
“Take it off” he said, eyes closing as his breath hitched.
Quickly but carefully he took the sweater off of him, his worry at whatever injury Fizz had hidden from him all week stronger than the sadness the defeat in his voice had caused him.
When he had finally laid his eyes at what the cloth had been hiding he could barely believe what he was seeing. There were multiple bruises in different stages of fading covering the lovely skin of his imp, looking even more painful with the way Fizz was trembling. But what really had him struggling to keep himself from changing into his demonic form and slaying everyone who had dared to even glare at Fizzarolli were the cigarette burns.
He had spent countless nights awake, holding his little jester and trying to distract him from the memories of the accident, or the feeling of a fire that was long gone still eating away at his skin.
He had also spent days watching Fizz slowly but surely get his fear under wraps, often making s’mores just after waking up without a single thought of how he could get hurt, and even standing calmly beside his fire-spitting performers and the bonfire on the stage of the club. He knew how much he had struggled to get where he was now, and he was almost as proud as he was happy for him.
So for someone, for a fucking bastard with their days numbered, to hurt Fizzarolli with something he still feared, to torture him (he couldn’t help but notice that most of them were on the white splotches where his skin had barely been saved) and to make Fizz feel the need to hide it from him, well, it made them the sole receiver of Asmodeus’ rare but powerful rage.
Taking a deep breath, aware of the barely repressed sobs of his boyfriend and the fact that getting angry right then and there wouldn’t solve anything, he tried to smooth his expression into a comforting one, but the intensity of the fire of his mane and, probably, his other two faces gave away what he was feelling.
“Who hurt you?” he managed to ask, a growl slipping into his voice no matter how hard he tried to stay calm.
Fizz snorted, his hands rubbing at his eyes smudging his already ruined makeup “My owner, who else?”
That’s when Amodeus knew. Those injuries on Fizz’s body? Those tears on his beautiful red yes? He couldn’t blame them on anyone but himself.
It was hardly a secret the lack of respect Mammon treated his employees with (and anyone inferior than him, really), even Fizzarolli who could be considered his best performer. But he thought that had changed when they struck an agreement to share Fizz along with everything that came with him (his acts, his branding). He thought that maybe now he could see Fizz’s talent and everything he had accomplished.
Now he could see how wrong he was.
“How dare he… how could he…” his hands trembled, his anger now overwhelmed by the guilt at knowing he should have known better than trusting Mammon wouldn’t hurt Fizz, at not stopping this before it could even happen.
Sensing his distress, Fizzarolli laid his hands over his and tried to give him a relaxing smile “It’s okay, Ozzie. He… had not done that in years. It was my fault, I overdid it with the backtalk. I won’t make him angry again”
He looked at him. At the broken horns he loved to pet. At the still crying face trying its hardest to appear happy. At the bruises on a body that had suffered more than enough. At the metallic limbs that were proof of it. And he knew that he couldn’t. He just couldn't let Fizz go back to that bastard.
“I’ll buy him out” he whispered, the defeat of knowing he couldn’t kill Mammon without starting a war and the way those words made his lover sound like an object leaving a sour taste in his mouth “I’ll make him break your contract”
Fizz just shaked his head, letting Ozzie pull him to his chest “He won’t agree. Remember how hard it was to even make him change the contract?”
Of course he remembered. It took weeks for him to even agree to meet him, and more to discuss an arrangement. But he had wanted Fizzarolli to perform in his club so badly , and Mammon owed him more than a few, so they came to an agreement to have Fizz for four months before giving him to the other. Neither of them had been exactly pleased, but they also didn’t want to have Lucifer decide their arrangement.
He couldn’t help but think if that would have been better.
He gently rubbed his back “I’ll make him” he repeated.
With a huff, Fizz buried himself further into his chest feathers “He’ll ask a lot for it”
So what? He found himself thinking. Let him ask, and he’ll give.
Looking at the body resting in his chest he knew he was far too gone now. His little jester had managed to make himself the owner of a prince of hell, of his heart, of his existence and everything he had to give. There wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t give, a single decision he wouldn’t take if it would grant him the chance to have Fizz in his life. Oddly, that made him relax.
That was it, then. It was decided.
Humming, he kept rubbing his back while his other hand began to pet his head “I would give him my whole ring if that was his price”
That seemed to alarm Fizzarolli, as he quickly straightened up to look at him “Ozzie!! Are you crazy?! You can’t- you just- no-!”
With a soft smile he kissed his forehead and cupped his face, wanting to take the panic out of his eyes “Relax, Fizzy. It won’t be my first offer. I just want you to know…” he rubbed his cheeks, happy to see him calm down a little “I’m not leaving until he breaks your contract. Whatever it costs”
Sniffling, Fizz kissed one of his palms before gifting him with a shaky smile “Are… are you sure?”
“I am sure. Of this. Of us. With you by my side,” he looked at his eyes, wanting him to understand, to feel how strongly he meant it “I don’t need anything else”
Fizz looked at him in shock for a moment before laughing in delight, tears running down his face as he tangled his limbs around Asmodeus’ body.
Laughing as well at Fizz’s fake complaints over how cheesy he was, he peppered his face in kisses, loving the happy squeaks he got in return.
Fizz would be okay. He’d make sure of it.