Work Text:
“…Fizz, you gotta knock off the people-pleasing. It isn't cute.”
Fizz gave Blitzø his patented eyebrow raise and side-eye combo. “Easy for you to say.”
“What?”
“You never care what people think.”
Well, that felt like a punch to the gut for no good reason. Up until not too long ago, the unwanted wave of negative emotion would have sent Blitzø into combat mode immediately. Thanks—no thanks—to the inner work he’d been sort of forced to do lately, Blitzø had more control over his subconscious impulses. He quickly calculated the line from "you never care what people think" to "you never care about other people’s opinions" to "you never care". An accusation that, at least this time, Fizz wasn’t making.
Blitzø drew in a deep breath, held it a second, then let it out in a whoosh. He licked a fang. Hesitating.
Then he said, heavily, “That is so fucking far from the truth.”
Fizz blinked several times, frowning. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
“Yeah, well.” Blitzø made a face. “That was the point.”
He sighed again. Part of him was screaming to shut the fuck up. His stomach felt heavy, like he’d just eaten a shit-ton of rocks. He’d started to notice the feeling when it happened, instead of trying to make it go away, run away. Taking a second to breathe helped. He hated that it did. He hated all the simple little things that were so easy they shouldn’t work, but Satan’s taint they were effective.
“That was the point,” he repeated, “because if I can fool everyone else, I can fool myself. If I pretend I don’t care, then I won’t.”
Blitzø dropped his gaze, forcing past every single alarm bell in the back of his mind that blared Danger, warning, vulnerability alert, stop right the fuck now. “But I always care. And I always have. Especially when it comes to…the people I care about…people I—”
He looked up and met Fizz’s eyes. He couldn’t quite finish the thought, but he figured his best friend would get it.
Fizz pulled Blitzø in for a quick hug, before stepped back. The soft smile on his lips turned into a smirk. He pushed Blitzø’s shoulder playfully. “Who are you and what have you done with Blitzo?”
“The O is silent now, bitch,” he responded automatically, before he realized it, rolling his eyes. “And before you say anything else, yes, I’ve been going to therapy—again—and this time I’ve been actually honest and it sucks ass. But it also helps, so fuck me in my little red hole.”
Fizz laughed. “Oh, I know. Mental or physical, therapy’s a bitch.”
Blitzø shrugged, mostly to shake off the residual feelings. “Well, that’s enough emotions for now—and you got me off topic, asshole! We were talking about you and your issues, not me and mine!”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, before both burst into laughter, leaning on each other so they wouldn’t fall over. Christ on a stick, it shouldn’t be so funny but it was.
“Okay okay, fine,” Fizz said once he got his breath back. “We can go get coffee or somethin’ and talk about…people pleasing or whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively, then jabbed his pointer finger in front of Blitzø’s face for emphasis as he added, “Just because I know you won’t let it go.”
Blitzø winked and pushed past Fizz, leading the way.
“C’mon, jester, let’s find a place where the coffee doesn’t taste like piss.”