Chapter 1: Audition
Chapter Text
Don’t embarrass me, Fizzarolli.
Fizz inhaled deeply and let it out slowly as his manager’s words repeated over and over in his head. He glanced up at Mamm, who seemed to still be perusing the menu while they waited. And waited.
“Your friend’s not very timely, is he?” Fizz asked quietly.
“Never has been. Can’t leave the house until his pretty face is on, you know?” Mamm growled.
Fizz nodded. He understood that too well. Not just because Mamm would never be seen dead associating with anyone looking less than perfect, but also because contouring was important. Without makeup, his face looked… bad.
Mamm finally put his menu down and scanned the restaurant. It was a swanky place, really nice, with Michelin stars and crystal chandeliers. The kind of place that Fizz always felt too rustic for, too accustomed to growing up on a ranch instead of in a penthouse. But Mamm insisted on the best of everything, and Fizz knew better than to bite the hand.
“There he is! Ozzie, you bastard! You’re late!” shouted Mamm, raising a hand to wave. “Get your arse over here!”
Fizz flinched internally but kept his back straight. Don’t slouch, smile like you mean it, and never let them under your skin. His eyes moved to take in the newcomer.
Ozzie, like Mamm, was tall. Granted, at five-three when he had legs, Fizz had a bit of a bias towards what counted as tall, but these two were each close to seven feet high. Unlike Mamm, though, Ozzie was slim and unapologetically beautiful. Neon blue hair curled around his face like some anime girl, and his bright green eyes glinted playfully against his bronze skin instead of leering like Mamm’s did. His leather heels reached his thigh, revealing a sliver of dark meat before the hem of a black skirt started. A pinstripe white and blue vest over a red blouse completed the ensemble. He smiled at Fizz and Mamm.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he sat down across from them. “Auditions ran long.”
“Not a problem,” Mamm insisted. “You get the bill. I’ll get the talent.”
Ozzie frowned and said, “Right.” Then he looked towards Fizz and held out a hand. “You must be said ‘talent,’ then?”
Fizz swallowed hard and extended his own arm to meet it. Ozzie closed his hand around Fizz’s plastic one. Yep, there was the twitch, then his eyes softened, and he let go.
“I’m Oz Mendez. And you are…?”
“Rico Fizzarolli. Fizz is fine, though.”
Fizz tucked his hand back into his lap, scratching at the seam where his arm ended and prosthetic began. His chair jolted. Fizz immediately twisted his fingers into his pants and pushed a smile to his lips. Mamm was right; he couldn’t show nerves now. He needed this contract, needed a steady paycheck between tours.
Ozzie, though, smiled again, saying, “I’ve heard that name. Haven’t seen your act, though, sorry.”
“It’s alright. You’re busy watching drag queens shake their asses,” said Fizz before he could swallow the words back down.
Fizz could hear Mamm’s teeth grind in the second of silence that followed. Then Ozzie belted out a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he bellowed, wiping a tear away. “Damn! Where’d you find this kid, Mamm?”
“Comedy club. Can you believe those fucks were sleeping on this gem? I knew he’d be big the minute I heard him!”
With the right guidance, Fizz remembered. He just needed a helping hand, seeing how he only had one of his own now, and Mamm was there to offer it. His wheelchair, his prosthetic arm, his apartment, his marketing, even his hormones- He owed all of it to Mamm.
“Okay, tell you what,” Ozzie said, interrupting Fizz’s spiral, “stay at the hotel tonight, meet my girls in the morning. We’ll do an audition, hear some jokes, maybe let you roast me some more, and, if I like it, I’ll get a deal drawn up. We do weekend shows, Mamm, so don’t fuck me with scheduling.”
“When have I ever?”
Ozzie raised an eyebrow, and Mamm sighed.
“Alright, alright. You made your point,” he said. “I won’t book him weekends without running it past you first.”
“Does that sound good to you, Fizzarolli?”
Why was he asking him? Mamm was in charge of that stuff. That’s what managers did. All Fizz had to do was sign whatever was put in front of him, and he had it made.
“I… yeah,” stammered Fizz. “Sounds great.”
“How about dinner, then?” said Mamm. “I’m starving!”
Oz shook his head and waved a waiter over. Mamm excitedly ordered a gold tomahawk, lobster, expensive wine, some sort of truffle potatoes, and whatever “foie gras” was.
“And my friend here wants the grilled chicken salad, dressing on the side. Gotta watch that figure, yeah?”
“And more water, please,” Fizz added.
Ozzie’s gaze bounced between Fizz and Mamm for a moment, then he looked at the waiter to place his own order of soup and steak.
“So, Fizz,” he asked once the waiter left with their requests, “I know Mamm, and Mamm knows you. Now’s a good time for us to get to know each other. So tell me about yourself.”
Fizz shrugged and said, “Well, I mean, there’s not much to tell. I grew up on a ranch, raised by friends of the family. Spent some time as a rodeo clown. Had a bad accident, left. Now I’m here.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s more to the story than that. But let’s start somewhere… less personal. What kind of music do you like?”
“Oh, I like most music,” Fizz admitted. “Jazz, screamo, polka- I like mixing things up.”
“That’s good! I know a lot of people don’t like jazz, but it’s a favorite of mine. We play a lot of that and pop at the club.”
“Pop is okay. Overrated, but there are a few I actually like.”
“Agreed. Some of my girls pick the most annoying songs,” said Ozzie. "Something new is always… refreshing, don't you think?"
Fizz shivered minutely at the drop in Ozzie's voice. That sounded like flirting. He glanced at Mamm, but that fucker was distracted with something on his phone. Fine, then. Fizz smirked back.
"New things are my bread and butter, sweet cheeks," he said smoothly. "I try to leave the recycling to the redemption centers. Nothing redeemable about all this."
He gestured to himself, and Ozzie chuckled more.
"That can't be true. You're funny as fuck and filled to the brim with sass."
“Good, it only cost me an arm and two legs!” laughed Fizz.
Ozzie didn't laugh at that one. He kept a soft smile on his lips and nodded. Weird. Most people laughed harder when he mocked himself. Or was that one just stale? Oh, shit, was Fizz getting stale?
He cleared his throat, cocked his head towards Mamm, and said, “But, uh, yeah. I’m worth his weight in sass.”
That got a laugh. Okay, so he wasn’t hopeless. And, if he crushed the interview tomorrow, he’d have a year-round job. No more reliance on tours and occasional “surprise diets.”
“Would you like to see the suite?”
Fizz blinked up at Ozzie in surprise. Then he glanced at Mamm, who waved him off.
“Sure, go see it. Have fun. Might give you reason to do your best tomorrow,” he said.
“Y-yeah. I’d love to see it! Um, if you have room for my chair, that is.”
Ozzie leaned over to examine the wheelchair. He hummed, either disappointed or disgusted. Fizz’s gut clenched.
“Mamm,” sighed Ozzie, “you really make him use this piece of shit?”
“Kid’s got a lot of medical bills. It’s what he can afford.”
“No no no no no. That,” Ozzie said, flicking his hand dismissively, “has to go. You need something better suited to your energy, Fizz.”
“I- I do fine,” Fizz said hesitantly.
“Fine is fine, but, if you’re working for me… It’s an art, Fizzarolli, and I find my best work is done when I’m not distracted by-- how do I put this? Undue stress. I’m sure you do just fine, I believe that. But would it be easier if you had prosthetics or a motorized chair?”
“No prosthetics,” growled Mamm. “That’s an invasive surgery, Oz. He can’t afford that downtime right now.”
Fizz coughed quietly, drawing Mamm’s attention back down to him.
“Maybe in a- a few years?” he asked. “When money’s not so tight?”
Mamm shrugged and turned back to Ozzie.
“I won’t fight you on a better chair, though,” he continued. “‘Cause you’re right. He’s a bit slow right now. The audience loves him, loves his jokes, but… it’s low-energy, yeah? What do you say, Fizz? Think a motor would give you a little more bounce on the stage?”
“You bet!” said Fizz, not even trying to hide his excitement.
As promised, after dinner, Ozzie followed Mamm to the rental van, staying at Fizz's side the whole time. Fizz bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to think too much about what that meant. Ozzie was proving to be quite the puzzle. He laughed at some jokes and not others. He made unreadable faces at things Fizz did, like when he scratched at his false arm or picked at his salad to make it last longer. The fact that he even noticed those little ticks surprised Fizz. Mamm hadn't yet.
After a short, quiet ride, the trio arrived at one of the many casinos on the strip. A neon sign in one corner read OZZIE'S in bold, blue letters.
"I was so fortunate to partner with Spades," Ozzie said, gesturing to the hotel erupting from the building's side like a tumor. "They've set me up and even have a room put aside for any guests the theater has, so you can use that until we get you somewhere more permanent. Pro bono, you could say."
"More like 'pro boner,'" laughed Mamm as he stared down one of the girls walking past. "Right?"
"Sure," sighed Ozzie. "Mamm, why don't you go party? Clear out the blackjack table like you do while I take care of our VIP."
"Oh, you know me, ya bitch! If you need anything, Fizzy, don't hesitate to call," Mamm said as he backed away.
Fizz kept his smile tacked to his face as he waved. Of course it was one of those deals. A bit weird, he thought, to base a long-term deal on a quick lay, but fuck it. At least Ozzie was attractive, for once.
"Do you want to rest your arms?" Ozzie asked softly, barely audible over the din of the crowd. "Or would you rather-?"
"No, no, go ahead," Fizz said, ignoring the way his gut plummeted. "I don't know where I'm going. You do."
Ozzie nodded and started pushing the chair towards some elevators. Fizz focused on breathing and tried to gauge his host. And why hadn't Mamm warned him? Sure, it wasn't his bag, but he usually at least gave Fizz a warning when he thought a deal would hinge on sex. Plus, Ozzie just… didn't seem like the others. He kept eye contact instead of mentally undressing him. He didn't lick his lips whenever Fizz hinted something suggestive.
Then again… Kyle had pretended to be his friend for fifteen years. This could be another long con.
The elevator doors shut, the carriage shuttled upward, and Ozzie knelt next to him.
"What does your contract with Mamm say?" he asked.
"What?"
"Your contract. With Henrik Mamm. How much does he get?"
Fizz sputtered and said, "I dunno, like, thirty? Plus medical care."
"You pay him for your medical care?"
"It was the only insurance I could get in this condition," spat Fizz, gesturing at himself. "Not many people jumping up to help… well, folks like me."
"Lemme guess: he told you that?"
Fizz shrugged, and Ozzie sighed.
"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, Fizzarolli."
With a ding, the doors opened again, and Ozzie pushed Fizz into the hallway. A long hallway with not many doors. And Ozzie guided him all the way to the end.
"I'm not kidding, though," he said, scanning a card. "You come work for me, and this is your room."
Fizz's jaw dropped when the door opened.
A wide, tiled entryway spilled into a huge living space overlooking the lively neon city of Vegas. A massive television aimed at a plush navy couch in the room's center, a dining table and bar against the wall behind it. Overhead, a crystal chandelier cast light around the room like miniature stars. Ozzie opened a door to the side, revealing a small bathroom with metal bars along the walls. Okay, already a massive improvement on his current apartment, Fizz noted, despite not seeing a shower or tub. He'd made due with less before.
Something brushed his shoulder, and he flinched. Ozzie immediately withdrew his hand.
"Sorry. You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," breathed Fizz. "I'm fine. I'm fine…"
"You can tell me if you're not," Ozzie said calmly. "You've obviously been through some serious shit. I don't blame you for being a jumpy little froggy because of it."
"Well, ribbit," croaked Fizz, earning a soft chuckle from Ozzie. "Okay, there's no bed here, so I know there's more. On with the tour, drag show!"
Ozzie sang back, "You're deflecting…"
Still, he pushed Fizz into the living area and around a corner. A little office nook filled the gap created by the bathroom, complete with a desk and empty bookshelves. Ozzie scooped up a tiny box as he passed the desk and handed it to Fizz.
"Mamm doesn't have to know," he whispered.
Fizz raised a brow then popped the lid off the box. Inside, a small assortment of chocolates waited to be devoured like sexy little balls in lace paper panties. Well, shit, that made him hungry and turned on.
"I really shouldn't…"
"But do you wanna?"
Fizz let his voice drop to a growl and hissed, "Careful, Oz. That's a dangerous question."
As if to prove it, he picked one candy up, stuck out his tongue, set it down, and pulled it back into his mouth. He moaned softly at the bitter flavor. Dark chocolate and espresso, he suspected. It felt like years since he'd had either. He peeked up at Ozzie and chuckled at the 404 error overtaking his features. Suddenly, Ozzie laughed back.
"You know, that salad didn't look very satisfying," he purred to Fizz. "If you're still hungry-."
Fizz hummed then said, "I guess… Mamm doesn't have to know, right?"
"I'm no snitch. If you want room service, I'll get it for you."
"I would suck so much cock for a burger, honestly," whined Fizz.
Ozzie burst into laughter again and said, "Well, that's not necessary. Here's your bedroom."
Fuck.
For starters, the room itself was about the same size as the living area ("1800 square feet, and it's all yours"). The bed ("A California king with 800 thread sheets") jutted out from the wall like a plush, amethyst ledge. Another massive window ("This remote closes the curtains for you") opened the space to the outside world. A second, huge television perched on a humongous dresser, and another archway led to yet another room. Fizz, just for a moment, could only stare at the luxury before him.
"All mine?" he repeated in awe.
"Job's yours if you want it."
"But… the audition?"
Ozzie shook his head and explained, "You already had it. I see how funny you are, how quickly you think. I see how sweet you are. More importantly, I see how Mamm treats you. I wish you didn't work for him."
"Shit, I wish I didn't either," sighed Fizz. "Too late now."
Ozzie continued, saying, "I'd offer to buy your contract off him, but… Mamm doesn't usually go for that kind of thing. This… is about all I have to offer." He gestured around the room then sat on the edge of the bed. "Food you actually want to eat. A home you don't have to worry about losing. A steady job."
"What's in it for you, huh? You can't be doing all this out of the goodness of your pretty little heart now."
"Aw, you think I'm pretty?" teased Ozzie.
Fizz snorted and said, "Is there someone who doesn't? I'm human, Oz. What do you want from me?"
"Would you believe me if I said nothing you weren't willing to give?"
"No."
Ozzie scowled slightly then said, "A date, then."
A fit of laughter caught in Fizz's throat that he forced back down.
"One date?" he snickered.
"If you're comfortable with it," clarified Ozzie.
"And you think that's payment—?"
"No," Ozzie said firmly. "Not payment. I'm not Mamm, Fizz. This isn't an exchange. I am offering you something because I want to offer it. You asked what I want, and I want a date. You're free to say no if you don't want that. I'll still give you the job."
Fizz bit his lip.
"I'm not… not interested," he admitted. "I mean, you're gorgeous, but I'm… I got the wrong wrapper, see?"
"Doesn't matter to me. I'm attracted to souls, not bodies."
"Oh. Well, uh… I'm out of fucking excuses, then, huh?"
"You don't need an excuse to tell me to get bent," Ozzie whispered.
Fizz did not tell him to get bent. Instead, he reached forward to wrap his one good hand around the back of Ozzie's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. After a minute hesitation, Ozzie let their lips meet.
Fizz sighed against Ozzie's mouth, letting his own hang open in invitation. An invitation Ozzie took with a moan, licking chocolate evidence away before Mamm could ever notice it.
Fizz suddenly pulled back and said, "I need you to fuck me."
"Excuse me?
"My safe word is 'bitch—'"
"Not the best safe word."
"Oz. I need your dick. In my ass. Last week. Got it?"
"I mean, I got it, but… why?" asked Ozzie.
"This is gonna sound so stupid, but," panted Fizz, "I need to know you aren't messing with me."
Ozzie frowned and said, "Do you… get messed with a lot?"
"Just once. I'd rather not do it again."
"Oh, froggy…"
He easily wrapped his arms around Fizz's thin waist and pulled him from his wheelchair. Fizz locked his arm around Ozzie's shoulders to keep himself steady as Ozzie moved him. To his surprise, Oz didn't lay him on the bed, pulling him into his lap instead. Fizz gasped at the bulge pushing against his thigh.
"What do you like?" Ozzie breathed into his ear.
Fizz shuddered at the hot air brushing his throat. His mouth felt dry despite how it watered, and his hips jolted against Ozzie's.
"Everything," gasped Fizz. "Give me everything."
"What's comfortable?"
Fizz whined and said, "Lean me up on the headboard."
In a sudden, smooth motion, Ozzie pressed Fizz against the wall, sitting him up on the pillows. Fizz let his hand fall to Ozzie's throat where he could feel the veins pulse under his fingers, dancing to the rhythm of their heartbeats. Ozzie mimicked the gesture, his middle finger and thumb resting on Fizz's jugular. With a whimper, Fizz shut his eyes.
"Too much?" Ozzie asked.
"Not enough."
"What do you mean?"
Fizz opened his eyes a crack and whined softly.
"I like it," he said. "Being choked. I want you to."
"Oh! How long?" pressed Ozzie.
"Five count," Fizz breathed shakily.
"Mmmm. Jab me with your thumb if-"
"Ozzie…" Fizz whined.
"Hey. It's a lot to ask a guy you just met for. So," Ozzie said calmly, "if it's too much. Jab me. With your thumb. Understood?"
Fizz tried to nod, but Ozzie cupped his chin to hold his head in place.
"Un-understood. Please, Oz? Please…"
"Don't cry, froggy."
Ozzie lowered his hand back to Fizz's pulse points and kissed his jaw. Then he squeezed.
Just like that, Fizz was in his memory, three years younger and choking on a respirator, unable to move despite every nerve screaming at him. His head swam, voices sliding in and out of focus. His throat tingled…
Then Ozzie released. The rush of adrenaline kept him floating the same way the painkillers had. He'd lived on them in the hospital. And out of the hospital. And all the way into rehab with Barbie.
This was safer, he told himself as he came back to present, to Ozzie kissing his throat.
"Do it again?" Fizz croaked.
"Not yet. You need to do something for me first."
"Oh?"
Ozzie reached for the nightstand, opened the box of chocolates again, and retrieved one. He held it over Fizz, right in front of his face.
"Open," he commanded.
Fizz's eyes widened, but he obeyed. Ozzie lowered the bonbon to his tongue. Fizz grabbed his wrist and kept his hand in place as he chewed. Strawberry, not espresso, entwined with a sweeter, smoother chocolate. He swallowed it. Then he pulled Ozzie's hand closer and wrapped his lips around his fingers.
"Such a sweet thing, aren't you?" Ozzie chuckled.
Fizz whined and sucked on Ozzie's skin, making him inhale sharply.
"You gonna be my sweet prince, Fizzy?" he growled. "Been looking for a froggy like you to make my own."
If Fizz still had toes, they would have curled. His thighs clenched around Ozzie's hips, and his tongue laved over thick fingers until Ozzie drew them back.
"You wanted anal?" he asked softly.
Fizz nodded, explaining, "I, uh, left my dick… I didn't think I'd get to fuck a famous drag queen, you know?"
"I have some in my room. You can borrow one."
"Fuck, that's hot. But no. No, I like mine, and… It's in Chicago."
Ozzie nodded and leaned forward to kiss Fizz's cheek.
"Should still go to my room, though," he breathed. "I didn't think I'd actually seduce a famous comedian, see? And condoms sound like a good idea."
Shit, that was a good idea. Lube wouldn't hurt, either, despite how fucking wet Fizz already was. Plus, Mamm was going to want sleep eventually…
"Yeah," panted Fizz, "let's go to yours."
Ozzie gently picked him up and cradled him close. A quick walk through the suite and across the hall brought them to Ozzie's room. A glance showed it was much the same to Fizz's soon-to-be home, just much more lived-in. A pizza box on the coffee table and a pile of clothes in the corner suggested a mess without cluttering anything. Fizz didn't have much time to investigate, though, as Ozzie swept him into his room.
Fizz's eyes went immediately to the massive mirror mounted on the ceiling. He squirmed in Ozzie's arms, seeking any sort of friction, only to hear him chuckle instead.
"It's great, right?" he asked.
"You bring a lot of new hires here?" squeaked Fizz as Oz deposited him on the bed.
"No," Ozzie said clearly, cupping Fizz's chin again to force eye contact. "I bring dates here from time to time, though. But, usually, their manager doesn't interrupt dinner."
"Well, if I'd known it was a date, I would have left him at home," Fizz said with a smirk.
"Next time."
"Next time," he repeated as he snaked his good arm back around Ozzie's shoulders.
Then the kissing started again. Slow, exploratory licks and nips gave way to deeper, breathless kisses. Ozzie moved gradually, as if testing if Fizz really meant what he said. Then he pulled back gasping.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he panted. "Wait here."
Fizz glanced around to confirm that his wheelchair was still in his own room and he had not miraculously grown new legs. Then he gave a thumbs-up.
"Yep, don't think I'm going anywhere if I wanted to," Fizz affirmed. "Now hurry or I'll start without you."
Ozzie laughed again and said, "I like the foreplay."
He turned and went through the door across from where Fizz sat, the room that he hadn't yet seen in his own suite. Ozzie filled most of the doorway, but he could still make out bright light, white tile, and a curtain… A second bathroom? Okay, that made more sense. What kind of hotel didn't have at least a shower or tub? And these were fancy, Fizz reminded himself by running his hand over the soft comforter under him. Fuck, he needed a good soak, too. It was good for what remained of his joints.
"Here."
Fizz snapped out of his thoughts and onto the towelette Ozzie was offering him. He gulped.
"Uh, I don't…," he whimpered. "The makeup-."
"Will stain my pillows if you leave it on," Ozzie said firmly. "You don't want to waste your time, right?"
Fizz shook his head.
"I don't wanna waste it, either. Whatever you got going on, Froggy," said Ozzie, "it won't scare me away."
With a sigh, Fizz took the wipe and started peeling the paint off his face. Ozzie did the same, letting Fizz watch the eyeliner and lipstick erode until it vanished. He was still pretty, though, unlike Fizz. It used to look so much worse, sure. The skin grafts erased most of the puckering but left it shiny and just… wrong in places. Fizz wadded up the towelette and give it back to Oz.
Ozzie leaned in to give him another soft kiss.
"You're a strong one, aren't you?" Ozzie asked quietly.
"I'm what now?"
Ozzie shrugged and said, "Anyone can see you've been through hell, Fizz. I wish you hadn't. But you get up and keep going. I think there's strength in that."
Fizz's eyes widened, then he blinked. He reached up and pulled off his last cosmetic, the blonde wig covering more scars on his scalp. Ozzie didn't even flinch, and Fizz shook his head.
"You're so fucked up," he hissed. "Seriously. Pants off before I crawl outta here to find some other dick."
Ozzie belted out another laugh and finally let his hand trail down Fizz's chest towards his waist.
"Well I'd hate to make you go looking," said Ozzie, lips dipping to Fizz's throat again.
Fizz groaned and pushed his hand under Ozzie's vest. Firm muscles pressed back wherever Fizz traced. His stomach, chest, shoulders… Every square inch of skin covered taut flesh. Fizz gasped when Ozzie dragged his teeth against his neck. Chuckling again, Ozzie sat up and peeled his vest off, then his shirt. Sculpted pecs and abs greeted Fizz, along with a fluff of chest hair carefully landscaped over his breastbone.
"Fuuuuuck me," whined Fizz.
"That's the plan."
He cupped Fizz's chin again and, starting at the joint, kissed along his jaw until reaching his lips once more. Fizz sighed and met the soft, languid kiss with tongue. He felt Ozzie's free hand carefully slide his shirt buttons open and trace a finger along more scars, ones not corrected by grafts. Fizz focused on choking himself on Ozzie's tongue to fight down tears.
Even in silence, though, Oz seemed to listen. He pulled back at the sudden tension in Fizz's body.
"Is it uncomfortable?" he asked sweetly.
Fizz shook his head and said, "No, no. Doesn't hurt at all."
"That's not what I asked."
Fizz hesitated then admitted, "Yeah. I just… I know how ugly they are."
"Don't say that," Ozzie whispered. "I told you, Fizz, I'm attracted to souls, not bodies. I don't think you could be more gorgeous if you tried."
Fizz did choke that time, throat closing over a wrecked sob. Ozzie stroked his cheeks and gently hushed him. Everything he said floated around Fizz like bubbles.
"I mean it. I think you're so handsome, Fizz. And more importantly, you're clever and skilled and strong. So strong. I don't know how you manage it, recovering from something so painful."
"I don't. I'm not managing anything," Fizz sniffled. "I'm just… I don't know how else to be."
"Do you want to turn over?"
"Huh?"
Ozzie pointed at the ceiling. "So you don't have to see yourself. If it bothers you, you might be happier that way. Don't worry about how you look. Let me show you how to feel beautiful."
With a hiccup, Fizz nodded. Ozzie's hands rolled him over tenderly. Fizz tilted his head so his left ear, the better one, turned towards Ozzie.
"Want to keep the shirt on?" asked Ozzie.
"Nah. Spine's one of the places my nerves aren't shot."
"Where are the others?"
"Hips. This arm came out pretty good."
Fizz raised his left arm and wiggled his fingers. Ozzie hummed and wrapped his fingers around Fizz's thin wrist. He pulled it to his face and kissed the back of Fizz's hand. Then he put his hands on Fizz's shoulders and slid his shirt off.
"So handsome," he breathed in Fizz's ear. "You know that, right?"
Fizz stayed silent, then winced when Ozzie bit his ear.
"Say it, Fizzy. Say you know you're handsome."
"But— Fuck!"
A heavy hand ran down his spine and settled at the top of his pants. His own arm twisted as Ozzie pressed it into the small of his back.
"Say it, Fizz," Ozzie demanded.
"I— I'm a handsome froggy prince."
"Good boy."
Ozzie rewarded Fizz by pulling down his slacks and boxers to expose him to the air. Then he pinched Fizz's ass before his hand vanished.
"Would it hurt if restrained you?" he asked.
Fizz snorted and shook his head, saying, "It's numb. Third degree."
Ozzie paused.
"I'm starting to worry about the story behind all this," he said gently. "No pressure, but—."
"It's a fucking doozy," groaned Fizz. "Definitely not the right time, though."
"Nah, course not."
A clicking sound alerted Fizz to exactly how Ozzie planned to keep him in place. Soft fabric over a hard frame brushed against a spot on the inside of his right elbow, confirming his suspicion. Ozzie encircled his good wrist with the other cuff, letting the cold, metal links send a shiver up his spine. Fizz whimpered again, squirming for friction. Ozzie's melodious chuckle reached him again as a weight settled between his thighs and pressed against his core.
"Fuck…" moaned Fizz, grinding as hard as he could on the offering.
"Rules."
"Goddammit!"
"Deal with it. Scars are numb, safe word is bitch. Any red-zones?"
With another whimper, Fizz hissed, "Cock is fine, but don't fuck my pussy. Everything else is clear."
"Got it."
Fizz yelped as Oz lifted him by the hips onto his lap. His cheek dragged against the sheets. Ozzie might have claimed they were cotton, but they felt silken smooth. So did Ozzie's hands, now that they were finally on Fizz's skin. One slowly massaged and lubed his ass while the other seemed to map the unmarred skin of his back. Fizz moaned at the thick fingers along his spine as well as the ones opening him up. It felt… nice. People weren't usually so tender. Tenderness got in the way of what they wanted, but Ozzie seemed to really enjoy taking his time. To be fair, he had said he liked foreplay. Fizz just hadn't expected that to be true, yet Ozzie moved painfully slow, being frustratingly thorough with his ministrations.
"Ozzie…"
"Yes?"
Fizz wiggled again, trying to fuck himself harder on Ozzie's fingers. He retreated with a chuckle.
"Use your words, Froggy."
"Cock," Fizz whined. "Please. Please gimme your cock."
"Good boy," purred Ozzie, drawing away.
He did, at least, slot a knee between Fizz's thighs again, and he immediately clamped onto and rode it. Fizz bit his lip hard enough for the taste of iron to overpower the remnants of chocolate and lipstick left on it. His dick throbbed from need as it dragged wetly against Ozzie's leg.
Ozzie shifted again, his body pressing down Fizz's into the mattress like a warm, weighted blanket. His lips coasted along Fizz's neck and elicited a shiver. One hand gripped Fizz's hip while the other rested near his head, holding Ozzie over him, just enough not to crush him.
"Ready?" he breathed.
"Oz, I've been ready fo—uuuuuuck!"
Ozzie paused, his crown barely inside Fizz's hole. The stretch burned, thankfully not enough to hurt. Fizz sucked in a dizzying breath and tilted himself as much as he could with his stubby, mismatched legs.
"Holy shit," he panted. "Where the hell were you hiding that?"
"I got a strong tuck game. Need a moment?"
"Did I call you a bitch?"
"I guess not."
Fizz peeked an eye back open to look at Ozzie's solemn, worried face. He smiled.
"Then I don't need a moment."
Ozzie's eyes flicked up to meet his. With a gentle sigh, he resumed slowly breaching Fizz. Fuck, it felt as thick as Fizz's arm. Which maybe wasn't that big around, but it was to him. Maybe he was a size queen, because the deeper Oz got, the more he wanted. He cursed and twitched and whimpered, and Ozzie would pause many times only for Fizz to growl for more. Then, finally—
"Holy fuck, froggy," Ozzie said. "That's all of it."
Fizz gasped for air, stomach full of cock. Okay, not really, but it pushed everything up and made it hard to breathe in the best way.
"So big," he whined. "Fuck, that's good…"
"You're so damn strong, Fizz. Shouldn't have doubted you," whispered Ozzie in his ear, nipping the lobe.
He started pulling back out, kissing and biting down the side of Fizz's neck as he did. Fizz melted into the sheets, finally relaxed by Ozzie's attention.
He stayed slow, at first, unsurprising but still frustrating to Fizz. So he focused on Ozzie's lips, instead. On the soft words of praise and pleasure, on the occasional kisses and licks and bites at his neck and shoulder, even one near the top of his spine.
"Oz…"
"Yes?"
Fizz arched his back again with a whine and said, "My dick…"
Ozzie released Fizz's hip and slid his hand to his crotch. Fizz whimpered again as Ozzie slipped easily between his folds to stroke him. Instantly, Fizz's body clenched and he swore again. Ozzie rubbed him through the sudden orgasm.
"There you go, baby. Good boy," he purred. "How's my froggy now?"
Fizz whined.
"Feeling handsome?"
"Good," moaned Fizz. "Feel so good."
"Another one?"
Another whine slipped past Fizz's lips and he nodded. Ozzie sat up some and pulled Fizz down hard on his dick. Fizz choked on the air forced out of him. Ozzie's arms encircled him and sat him up against his chest, one around his waist and the other across his chest. His hand snaked around Fizz's throat.
"Should I?" he asked.
Fizz gasped shallowly and said, "Promised."
"That I did."
He gripped Fizz's neck again, carefully pressing down firmly on the veins once more. Fizz's eyes glazed over with lust. So many sensations happening at the same time. Head fuzzy, pressure at his spine moving up and down, nails digging into his bony hip…
Ozzie let go, and Fizz felt another rush of need shoot straight to his dick. Ozzie stroked his collarbone as he pulled Fizz up and down in his lap, helping him ride the mammoth of a cock in his ass. Fizz could have screamed as it brushed something deep in him, something setting fire to his core with every thrust.
"Please… please…" Fizz pleaded.
"Anything for you," Ozzie moaned, raising his hand again.
Ozzie kissed the top of his spine right before his fingers clamped down on his neck, and Fizz did scream. Or, rather, he felt like he screamed. He couldn't hear anything, but it wouldn't be the first time his voice didn't make it to his own ears. Behind him, Ozzie's hips snapped as he moaned back so low Fizz vibrated. He felt the rubber fill inside him then the arms around him slowly relax.
Then he fell. Not painfully, for once, but into pillows and a forgiving mattress and warm arms. Ozzie landed with him and panted hard against the back of his head, and, if Fizz shut his eyes, he could imagine his hair moving in the wet breath. If he shut his eyes, he could be sixteen again.
"Shit, Fizz… You good?"
"Yeah," Fizz said, an honest smile tugging on his lips. "You?"
"I'm great. Fuck, you're gorgeous…"
Fizz felt his grin buckle, then crack into a fit of giggles. The twitch made him suddenly, acutely aware that Oz was still inside him. And also that he still wore the cuffs.
"Gonna need my hand back, Oz."
"Right…"
As always, Ozzie took his damn time, tracing the curve of Fizz's arm before clicking the quick release. He rubbed Fizz's arm, soothing the muscles before they had a chance to ache from being held in place. When he finally released it, Fizz pat the bed.
"Can you move over here?" he asked quietly. "So I can see you?"
Ozzie nodded and separated himself from Fizz at last. He could breathe again, but at the cost of feeling cold and empty. After a second, Ozzie climbed over Fizz to lay in front of him. Fizz's breath caught seeing he still had the damned skirt on. Not that it was doing much as his now-flaccid cock hung freely, dark tip glistening in the low light. Apparently, "as thick as my arm" was a correct assumption as well, Fizz noted with a blush. Ozzie propped his head up on one hand and brushed Fizz's face with the other.
"So gorgeous," he chuckled.
Fizz smirked.
"I'm getting that fucking burger in the morning," he declared.
Ozzie laughed once more, pulled Fizz into his chest, and sighed.
"I'll make sure you do, you maniac."
Chapter 2: Coronation
Summary:
Fizz is in conflict between what was, what is, and what could have been.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Fizz sat on top of the barn roof with Kyle, watching the horses run.
"So," Kyle sighed, sloshing a bottle of cheap beer lazily, "excited to graduate?"
"Hell, yeah," said Fizz, tapping his own bottle to Kyle's. "Here's to freedom, right?"
"To freedom," Kyle repeated.
It was a good day. The last good day. Back when Fizz's limbs were his own, his life was his own, his happiness was his own.
"What about you?" he asked. "You sure about dropping out?"
"Fizz, I've been in the eighth grade for three years. I'm tapped out. Besides, what am I gonna do with an education? Don't need one."
Fizz snorted, "Well, that's bullshit. What are you gonna do without one?"
"Dad's… teaching me stuff."
"You're gonna hang around this rodeo your whole life?"
Kyle sighed and shook his head. "It's better that way. Who's gonna hire a ret—?"
"No."
"Ugh. An idiot like me?" Kyle corrected. "Doesn't matter. How about you? Got that cool talent show coming up, right?"
Fizz laughed, "God, don't remind me! I'm sweating bullets already."
"They'll love you, Fizz. Everyone does."
"I dunno. Maybe I should stay, too. Help you out."
"Nah, I can see it already. 'Class-act jester, Rico Fizzarolli, coming to a city near you! Get your tickets now!'"
"I'm an insult comedian, jackass."
"Eh, six of one, half a dozen mother."
Fizz shook his head, saying, "Yeah, maybe dropping out is the right move for you."
"I'd say 'fuck you,' but you're right," laughed Kyle.
He set his empty bottle down and laid back to stare at the clouds.
"At least you like it here," Fizz said. "You guys are great, but… I just wanna know I'm safe, I guess. Where I can tell people to call me 'Rico' and not be judged for it."
"I don't judge you."
"I know. Neither do Barb or Tilla or Cash. I know that. But… what if I meet a guy? I mean, openly gay is one thing, finding someone into… all this?"
Fizz gestured to his body like he could stir it into the right form. As if waving his hand or wishing on a midnight star would give him a flat chest and a dick. It would never happen. Why did he keep trying? Kyle sat up and took his hand.
"I'm into all that," he said softly.
Fizz rolled his eyes and scoffed.
"Yeah, awesome. The one guy who'd be into me is practically my brother," spat Fizz, pulling his hand back.
"I mean… not really, though."
"Not really, but basically," Fizz repeated. "I just feel like… maybe I'd have more luck in the big cities, you know? Or could make enough money to get surgery."
"You really see me as a brother?"
Fizz's head snapped towards Kyle.
"Do you not?" he asked. "I mean… I thought we were close."
"No, yeah. Yeah, I do," Kyle said, holding his dark hands up with a smile. "Of course I do. Best big brother ever! And Barb would say the same."
Fizz sighed in relief and said, "Good. I want you guys to like me."
"Yeah, totally. Um, I… I should get back to the house. Or, we should. Dad's gonna notice we're missing."
"Good point," Fizz said. He drained the last of his beer and handed the bottle to Kyle. "After you, bro."
Fizz followed Kyle to the hole in the roof. Kyle easily slid down and dropped onto the loft, a fluid motion Fizz repeated.
He was right, Fizz knew. They weren't really brothers. For one, Kyle was dark like his mother with auburn curls that he kept tied back in a ponytail, same a Barb. Fizz's hair was wavy, too, but golden against his paste-pale skin. But he couldn't remember a time he didn't live with the family. Something about being left in the Bustros's care while his parents were away. They never did come back, but he didn't wonder where they went, either. He was a Bustros in everything but name. He learned the rodeo, took up clowning with Kyle, and got really good at his job. Kyle knew how to work the horses, and he knew how to work the crowd. They made a special kind of magic together, but, as much as he loved it, something had to change.
"Damn, Froggy."
Fizz looked up at a bare-chested Ozzie who frowned at him and squeezed his hip.
"You really called him your brother?" he asked.
"Yeah. Why?"
Ozzie rolled his eyes and said, "Well, it explains why I had to straight-up ask you out."
Fizz pushed himself up to sitting with a pout.
"You calling me dense, drag show?" he asked.
"More… oblivious," Oz said, tucking some hair behind his ear. "You just don't really seem to notice when people are flirting with you."
"That's not true," scoffed Fizz. "I noticed you were flirting when we met!"
"Before or after I asked you out?"
"Before! Something about trying new things. I noticed that."
"Took you that long, huh?"
Fizz growled as his neck heated up.
"'That long?' That was no time!"
"That was halfway through dinner, baby! I even did my sexy laugh, and you missed it."
"You always laugh at me like-- Oh."
"Yeah. Trust me, Froggy. That Kyle guy? He thought of you as way more than a brother." Ozzie adjusted to lean against the couch as he stared softly at Fizz and said, "I'm guessing he's important to the story, though, if you're bringing him up?"
"Fuck, if anything, it makes what he did next worse," said Fizz.
The barn had always been the go-to place to socialize, and Fizz's graduation party was no exception. Cash and the twins spent all morning decorating while Fizz helped Tilla bake. He insisted on making his custard pie cupcakes, with supervision of course.
"So you used to be able to cook?"
Fizz rolled his eyes and said, "No, I could bake. And having two hands does tend to help with that."
Ozzie hummed and pulled Fizz towards him again.
"Someday," he whispered. "Wanna keep going?"
Fizz didn't see Kyle or Cash in the barn when he took the food out. Barb smoked away from the building. The Bustros were cool like that. They didn't mind if you smoked on occasion as long it wasn't constant or in the barn. Too dangerous with all that hay.
"Need help?" asked Barb.
"We got it," said Fizz.
"Thank you, Barbie," Tilla sang. Every word out of her mouth felt like music. "Everyone should be here soon. Can you make sure no one spooks the horses?"
Barb nodded and walked away.
Fizz examined the building. The streamers, the tables, the balloons… everything looked perfect. Like a big-top in a shed.
"Fizz?"
He turned to Tilla. She smiled at him so kindly.
"I think I left the cups in the house. Would you get them?" she asked.
With a nod, Fizz traipsed off to do as he was told. If only he'd known better. If only he'd taken his time like he normally did… but he was too excited. He gathered the disposable cups and trotted quickly back. He smiled at Cash as he passed him, though the old man only nodded back and stalked towards the house. Fizz shrugged. While he hadn't expected it, it wasn't unheard of for Cash to be suddenly in a mood. Besides, guests would be arriving soon, and Tilla needed the cups.
Fizz paused before entering the barn. Tilla was wiping tears from Kyle's face, another commonplace oddity of their weird family. He couldn't make out what they said, but it looked like Tilla was assuring him of something as Kyle nodded along. Then he hugged her.
"Hey," piped Fizz after a moment. "Everything okay?"
"Yep! Yeah, everything's fine," Kyle sputtered, wiping his face again. "Hey, man of the hour! Ready for your big party?"
"Is Cash—?"
"Don't worry, Fizzy," Tilla half-sang. "You focus on being—"
A shrieking boom pierced Fizz's ears, and intense light enveloped him. Then it was pain. So much pain and heat and a weird, acidic smell all around him. He couldn't see anything but the flames, couldn't hear anything but that endless, biting shriek, couldn't feel anything but pain in his legs. He couldn't move them. He raised an arm to cover his face as the hay and streamers and old wood went up in smoke.
He heard the beeping before he felt the pain. He tried to grit his teeth, but something in his mouth blocked him, something plastic. Then the voices started, muffled, like his ears were full of water.
"Dad! Dad, I think he's waking up."
"Well, go! Go get a doctor!"
The beeping sped up, and Fizz forced an eye open. A familiar, tan man hovered over him, gray hair scraggly around his face as he smiled.
"Hey there, Fizzarolli," Cash screeched, barely understandable. "Good to see you again."
Fizz whined, unable to speak around the crap in his mouth.
"I know, I know. Barbie's getting a doctor. He'll take that right out and get you more pain killers, okay?"
Pain, yes. His whole body felt like it was on fire, except his legs, right arm, and back. His face felt swollen, and his head swam in the confusion. All he could do was wait, though, for another older man to enter and hover over him and blind him with a laser light. Only then did he finally remove the plastic tube from Fizz's throat. He gagged and coughed as it came out, throat dry, scratchy, and sore.
"What hap'd?" Fizz croaked weakly.
"Kyle," Barbie hissed.
"Are you in pain?" asked the doctor.
Fizz nodded and asked, "Kyle?"
"Said he couldn't stand seeing you run off," Cash scowled. "Just had to light a little hay, and up the whole thing went!"
"Where's 'e?"
"The little fucker bailed!" spat Barbie. "Took Mom's ring and fucked right off! Can you believe that shit?"
"Didn't want to deal with what he did, the coward," Cash agreed with a nod.
"How'd 'e take Ma's ring?"
Barbie's eyes watered, and Cash shook his head.
"She didn't make it, Fizzy."
Fizz's mind swam, his pain fading as the meds kicked in and the words soared over him. Tilla gone? Not possible. For one, Kyle would never hurt her… but Kyle would never hurt him either. He'd been crying, too, and Fizz couldn't think of a reason for that. Unless he really was that mad that Fizz was getting ready to leave. It didn't make sense. In the corner, Barbie fumed, ranting every which way she could about what an asshole their brother was, what a traitorous slime he'd turned into. Cash nodded along, patting Fizz's hand where it rested on his stomach. The other hand—
His right hand didn't exist. About halfway down his forearm, the flesh tapered off to a nub. His eyes widened.
"Fizzy?" Cash asked, squeezing his hand.
"Where the fuck is my arm?" he rasped.
Again, Cash squeezed his good hand with both of his own.
"Doctors did all they could, but… It's not so bad, Fizz. We'll get you taken care of. Ramps, wheelchair—."
"Wheelchair?"
"You had third and fourth degree burns on most of your body, Fizz," Barbie said softly.
"They saved most of the left leg," Cash added. "The right… not so much. Had to take it off a little above the knee."
"Mirror," croaked Fizz.
The look Cash and Barb exchanged said plenty, and Fizz's chest sank in on itself, falling through his stomach like a black hole.
"How bad?" he asked, barely staving off the sobs building in his dry and cracked throat.
"They're doing skin grafts," Cash explained, "and they're… helping."
"You never need to worry about a haircut again?" Barb offered.
That cracked the dam. Fizz burst into wails of agony.
"Saying it now," Fizz told Ozzie three years later, "it makes me sound vain, doesn't it?"
Ozzie shook his head and continued rubbing Fizz's back.
"It sounds like you lost a lot. Your brother, your mom," he said quietly. "Your self."
Fizz leaned into Ozzie's side and said, "I'd just gotten my face where I wanted it. I was just starting to look the way I saw myself. And he blew my ass up."
"It was a lot all at once."
Fizz nodded and wiped his face. His bare, blemished, imperfect face. The face only Ozzie got to see now.
"I know a guy, if you want," Ozzie offered. "He's pretty good, if you're still processing… all this."
"Processing won't fix it. I'd rather just, I don't know. Work past it?"
"Oh, Froggy, baby," sighed Ozzie. "That can't be healthy."
Fizz shrugged, saying, "Not something anyone ever accused me of."
"I'm gonna introduce you. If you don't like him, you don't have to go back, but I want you to try it. Yogi's great at affirmation bullshit."
"Why the fuck would you need affirmation?"
Ozzie snorted and said, "Babe, you're the first person to ever call me pretty without me asking. I worried for years if I was too manly for drag."
"Fuck that. You look better in a dress than I ever did."
"Thanks, Fizzy Frog. But if you'd told me that five years ago, I wouldn't have believed you."
"But you believe me now?"
"You and your dick are… pretty convincing," laughed Ozzie.
Fizz grinned at the soft blush on Ozzie's cheeks. He grabbed the collar of Ozzie's shirt and pulled him down for a tender kiss. Oz chuckled again as he pulled away.
"You want to keep convincing me?"
"Maybe later," said Fizz. "I don't need a yoga guy."
"Yogi. And you definitely need therapy, babe. It's good for you."
"I've already done it, big guy," groaned Fizz. "You don't do rehab and skip therapy."
"You were in rehab?"
Barbie dug at the skin of her forearm, picking a scab free with her nails as she growled. Fizz pulled her hand into his one own. His brain was still foggy from his last dose of oxycodone a few hours prior.
"This is bullshit," growled Barbie. "I don't need rehab."
"We do, though. We need it, Barb."
"It was one time! I won't do it again."
Fizz glanced at the cluster of "bug bites" and bruises on her arm. It was not one time. And he couldn't keep justifying his own constant refills anymore.
They needed help.
"You're both checking in?" Alice asked, looking over her notes.
"No."
"Yes. Barbie, I need you," Fizz begged.
She pulled her hand back, crossed her arms, and hissed a "fine" under her breath. Fizz sighed in relief.
"We'd like to room together, if we can," he said. "I need, well, extra help."
Alice scanned the papers again, then nodded.
"I think we can allow it for now, Miss Fizzarolli."
Fizz narrowed his eyes at her. This was going to fucking suck. But he could do it. For Barbie.
"Thank you," he croaked.
The weeks that followed mostly blurred together for Fizz. He endured the shakes and pains of withdrawal with Barbie at his side, patting his back as he threw up and sharing her blanket when he had the shakes. She even hugged him when one session left him sobbing and questioning who he was as a person. Barbie was his rock during his eight-week recovery.
"If I hadn't had my head in the toilet most of the time, I probably would have noticed she wasn't suffering as much as I was," Fizz admitted. "I was getting clean, and she was getting secret deliveries."
"You're not her keeper, babe."
"I know, but… She was my last family. I just feel like I let her down, not realizing."
Fizz squeaked as Ozzie wrapped around his waist again and pulled him into his lap.
"You were taking care of yourself, Froggy," he whispered. "There's no shame in putting your mask on before the person next to you."
Fizz sighed and asked, "Is there anything I can tell you to make you realize I'm no good?"
"I mean, I doubt it. You kill puppies?"
"The fuck?" Fizz gasped.
Ozzie shrugged and said, "Well, that's a big turn-off, don't you think?"
"Oh, you're down bad for me, aren't you, drag show?" Fizz chuckled softly. "But yeah, it's a huge turn-off. I love dogs. We had a puppy for a little while when I was a kid, but Uncle Cash sold her. Said she was better off with smarter people taking care of her."
"What kind was she?"
"Russell terrier. She was a good girl. Her name was Princess, but Kyle always called her Orange Sherbet. I have no idea what was wrong with that guy."
"Yeah, I knew a guy a like that," laughed Oz. "He was only around a few weeks, but he left an impression. Looked great in drag, but his stage name… Christ, you wouldn't believe me."
"Imagine if it were Kyle, though," cackled Fizz. "He always said he'd have a horse-themed name if he did drag."
Ozzie hesitated and said, "Like 'Mustang Dong?'"
Fizz sputtered.
"Yeah! That was one he threw around. You met Kyle?!"
"I didn't know! He called himself Blitzo when he—."
"Oh, he fucking would, too," said Fizz. "That's his old clown name, from when we did the rodeo together. 'Blitzo and Fizzy, the Rodeo Clown Kids.'"
Ozzie chuckled and said, "That sounds adorable."
"Bet your ass we were! We could distract anything, make any angry bull do whatever we wanted."
"Aaaaand that sounds dangerous."
"Dangerous as fuck! Uncle Cash didn't want me to do it, said it wasn't something little girls should be doing. The bastard. But the twins stood up for me. Said I could move faster than either of them, was flashier than any matador. Didn't even out me when that would have been easier. They waited until I was ready to say it."
"I don't think I like this Cash guy."
"He was… fine," said Fizz, scratching his neck. "He was trying his best. Making ends meet for three kids, one that wasn't even his, on a farmhand's salary. And everyone else who stopped by. People were always coming and going, and he always made space for them. He was stressed, sure, but he was a generous guy!"
Ozzie hummed and asked, "Well, Kyle never mentioned him."
"Yeah?" laughed Fizz. "And, uh, Kyle strikes you as the open, honest, generous type?"
"Good point."
"Mm-hm. Anyway, no. Cash was great. Door was always open."
Warmth pressed against Fizz's neck as Ozzie kissed him. Fizz giggled. He'd become accustomed to it in the last month. No, actually. He was starting to crave it. Ozzie seemed to love showering him in affection, whether it was a gentle touch, a tender kiss, or a hot meal.
Then he whispered in Fizz's ear, "Babe, people like Kyle don't come out of nowhere. If he's as bad as you say, he learned it somewhere."
"I mean… I guess."
"Kyle?" Fizz asked, poking his head into the bedroom.
"Not now, Fizzy."
Fizz ignored him and climbed up the ladder to Kyle's bunk. He kept his back to Fizz and an arm over his face. Fizz put a hand on his calf, and Kyle kicked him away.
"I said 'not now.'"
His voice was strained from crying, and Fizz couldn't blame him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be. You didn't let Stapler out."
"It was an accident."
"Yeah. An accident," Kyle scoffed. "My foal got out on accident after I failed another English test. And she just wandered into the exact field Dad was working in. And he just happened to stop soon enough that she lived, but not soon enough to not fuck up her legs. How convenient. After all, she was my baby. I should be the one to put her down, right?"
"I think you're over-thinking this, Kyle."
"Yeah. Probably. Look, just leave me alone, Fizz."
"Well… Dinner's ready."
"'m not hungry."
"Yeah," sighed Fizz. "Aunt Tilla said you wouldn't be."
"How old were you guys?" Ozzie asked.
"I was, like, fourteen, I think? So he'd have been thirteen."
"That's harsh, Froggy. Making a kid kill his own horse?"
"I mean, I guess? He was pretty hard on Kyle. Sweet as anything to me and Barbie."
Ozzie huffed again, saying, "Sounds like misogyny."
"No, I was out by then."
"Doesn't mean he saw you as a guy. And he gave away your dog? Did he do stuff like that a lot?"
Fizz furrowed his brow in thought.
"I don't think so," he said. "I mean, Cash was always trying to bond with Kyle, but he just… hated him. I don't know why."
"I guess it doesn't matter, really. Not like you're friends anymore."
"We are definitely not," Fizz growled.
"And you've already worked past this?"
"Well, no. But I'm not hurting anything, either. I'm clean, I'm present, and I've got a hot new boyfriend."
Ozzie chuckled and said, "Yeah, you do."
Then he finally rolled over and pressed Fizz into the couch, kissing up his neck. Fizz giggled and twined his fingers into Ozzie's hair.
"Want your cock, babe?" Oz asked against his throat.
Fizz whimpered and said, "If you want that."
"I want all of you," rumbled Ozzie. "Even the silicone parts."
"Well, that is most of me at this point…"
"Froggy. I want it," he said, biting Fizz's jaw. "I want you to fuck me."
Fizz bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. He wanted that, too. Ozzie chuckled and rose, stretching his long body out. And maybe Fizz raked his eyes over the lines of his abs and pecs. Maybe he imagined pulling on his nipple rings, too.
He definitely watched that ass jiggle under a pleated skirt as it walked away to get their supplies.
"You sure it's fine? That it's fake?" he asked.
Ozzie chuckled back, "I told you before, babe. I'm attracted to souls, and sometimes they don't have the parts they naturally want."
"I'm missing most of the parts I want."
"No harm in accessorizing," Ozzie said calmly, pulling a box from the closet. "I do it all the time."
"Yeah, and tits look great on you and all, but I like you natural."
"Babe. Stop overthinking this. I'll love you with or without a dick."
Fizz blinked, mouth drying instantly.
"You love me?" he croaked.
Ozzie froze in place and cursed under his breath.
"That was too soon. I didn't— You don't have to say it back!"
"But you do?"
Ozzie's cheeks flushed hard and he nodded.
"It's only been three months!" said Fizz.
"Yeah, but… Shit, Froggy, you're just so lovable. I don't feel fake around you," said Ozzie. "You make me laugh without even trying."
With a shrug, Fizz said, "I mean, it's kind of my job."
Ozzie nodded again and carried the box to the couch. Fizz pulled himself up to sit against the arm and make room for his boyfriend as he sat down. Oz ran his hands over the box in his lap.
"Yeah," he whispered. "That's your job."
Even Fizz heard the pain in those words. For a second, he hated himself, hated that he'd hurt someone again. After all…
"I do, too," Fizz blurted.
Ozzie quirked a brow at Fizz, though he wasn't sure if it was skeptical or confused. Fizz wound his arms around his waist, cinching it hard to keep the bubbling down as he clarified.
"Love you. I love you, too, Oz. I just… I've never had someone say it before. With words."
Ozzie smiled gently and leaned down to kiss Fizz's cheek.
"I've had a lot of people say it," he whispered. "Not a lot that mean it, though."
"I do mean it!"
"I believe you, Froggy. I really do," Ozzie sighed.
With a grin, Fizz redirected Ozzie's lips from his ear to his mouth for more sweet, delicate kisses. He felt Oz shift and run his hands over his waistline, tugging at his pants. Fizz chuckled in his throat and pulled himself up, deepening the kiss and letting Ozzie undress him.
"Fuck, you're strong," Ozzie moaned into Fizz's mouth.
"You should have seen me before all this. Could have crushed you with my thighs."
"We'll have to leave that to me, I guess," sang Ozzie.
Fizz snickered back, "You do make a great hat. Very stylish."
Ozzie laughed, too, then pulled back to open the box and retrieve Fizz's harness. Fizz shivered. The checkered boxers were so silky as they slid up his thighs and settled on his hips. The rubber lining of the crotch settled against his sensitive spots, a sensation that always elicited a soft moan. Ozzie dove into the box again and produced a thick ombre dildo. Fizz snatched another quick kiss and reached for the cock. Oz pulled it back, and Fizz pouted at him.
"I'll take care of this," he growled. "You take care of you."
Ozzie hummed and said, "We could do it that way. Or… I can take care of this, and you can take care of me?"
Fizz swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yeah, we can— we can try it that way."
"We don't have to."
"Ozzie, babe," Fizz said softly, "I'm not gonna refuse to eat ass when you ask so nicely."
Oz blushed — How did he always look so fucking hot when he blushed? — and gave one more peck at Fizz's lips before licking the blue-and-purple dick in his hand. Fizz whimpered at the trail of spit left along the studs as Ozzie traced one of the blackened veins with his tongue and clamped his stubby legs together.
"Fuck," he panted, "turn around before I slap you with that thing."
Ozzie whimpered, the garnet stain of his cheeks spreading to his ears and neck. Taking the tip of the rubber dick into his mouth, he rolled over onto his hands and knees over Fizz. Fizz giggled like a child at the pink thong straining to hold Ozzie's cock down under his skirt. He pulled the fabric aside, making Ozzie whine again at the pressure on his dick, and kissed Ozzie's plump cheek before diving into his crack.
The dildo down Ozzie's throat did little to muffle to wanton mewling he emitted. Fizz hummed back as he ran his thumb along Ozzie's ass until it joined his tongue to prod at the hole.
Fizz felt Oz hook an arm under his lower back and lift his hips. He gasped when Ozzie pet him through the shorts and lined the base of his dick up to secure it in place. In return, Fizz pushed his tongue deeper, drooling all along the cleft of his backside with want. He swapped his thumb for his ring and middle finger and worked Ozzie open slowly.
"Shit, baby," Ozzie moaned, his back arching at the massage, "you don't have to be so gentle, you know?"
Fizz grunted back and added his index finger. Ozzie swore under his breath and kissed along the hem of Fizz's shorts. Fizz bit his cheek, trying not to wince at the attention his stomach received. He knew he'd gained weight. The death glare Mamm gave him at his last routine made it obvious, but Ozzie never said anything. In fact, Ozzie seemed intent on making sure he ate regularly.
Fizz made a mental note to talk to him about it. Later.
At the moment, he refocused on preparing Ozzie for his rubber cock. He spread his fingers apart as his tongue pushed more spit into his open hole. Then he carefully curled his fingers. The arm propping Ozzie up buckled immediately, dropping him onto Fizz's hips.
Ozzie gasped, "Fuck! Fizzy…"
"Yeah?" Fizz muttered against his boyfriend's skin.
"Fizz, please. Please, I'm ready."
"Are you sure?"
Fizz pressed briefly against Ozzie's prostate again, earning a yelp followed by a shaky moan.
"I'm sure. I'm sure, Froggy, I'm ready."
Fizz withdrew his fingers and patted Ozzie's ass. Slowly, Ozzie pulled himself to sitting and turned around. He pushed the skirt and thong down, letting his dick spring free. Fizz stared as he did. How could he not? Ozzie had to be the hottest thing he'd ever laid eyes on, especially when he was blushing head to toe from horniness like he was at that moment. His curated blue hair stuck to his flushed and sweaty face, green eyes half-shut and glossy, cock dripping and hard as it bobbed between them. He laughed when Fizz licked his lips.
"Thirsty, babe?" Ozzie asked.
"For you? Always."
Ozzie lunged forward and claimed Fizz's lips with his own. Fizz licked at Ozzie's lip, an invitation to wrestle tongues that Ozzie eagerly took. If he tasted himself, he stayed quiet, not that Fizz was surprised. Messy was Ozzie's forte.
Fizz moaned as Ozzie shifted and brushed against his dick, jostling his shorts just enough to stimulate him.
"Gonna fuck me senseless, babe?"
Fizz hummed then said, "Maybe. If you ask me nicely."
Ozzie laughed again and started sliding down on Fizz's dick. Fizz hissed at the way the motion forced a drag over his clit. He twisted his fingers into Ozzie's locks to pull him in for another desperate, wet kiss. Oz didn't really return the gesture, though, mouth open and gasping as he took the massive silicone dildo. He squeezed Fizz's shoulder as he bottomed out with a sigh.
"Shit, babe," he gasped. "I see why it's your favorite."
"It's the ridges. They hit all the good spots, I'm told," chuckled Fizz.
Ozzie laughed, too, muttering "And long. Fuck, it's so deep, Froggy… You're so good in me."
He kissed Fizz's cheek, then his jaw, then his neck.
"You want me to ask nicely?" he cooed.
Fizz smirked.
"Nah."
He flexed as hard as he could, pressing even deeper into Ozzie and earning a high gasp then a low moan.
"Fuuuuuck," Ozzie half-sobbed into his mouth.
Fizz laughed in his throat and repeated the motion. Ozzie whined again and arched into him.
"Oh, babe, that's it," he groaned. "You're so good to me, Froggy."
"You like?"
Ozzie giggled and lifted his hand to Fizz's collarbone. Fizz rolled his hips again, tilting his head back to give Oz better access. His nails scored into Ozzie's shoulder as his lover pressed down on his neck, filling his brain with that familiar static he loved so much.
He returned to reality with a gasp then instantly found his mouth dominated by Ozzie. Fizz licked back with a moan and slammed hard into Ozzie. Shit, he wanted nothing more than to flip the man over and fuck him into his own wheelchair.
A soft hand lighted on his cheek. His eyes flickered back into focus. Ozzie frowned down at him.
"What's wrong, Froggy?" he asked.
"Sorry. I'm—."
"If you say fine, I'll walk right out of this room and leave you here to finish yourself," Ozzie growled.
Fizz swallowed the urge to laugh him off again. Instead, he nodded.
"I want my fucking legs back," he admitted. "I wanna climb on top of you and force you into the mattress like you do to me. I- I'm sorry, Oz. I just… It all just hit me at once."
Ozzie's thumb traced Fizz's cheek, wiping the beginnings of a tear away. Then he smiled.
"I want that, too," he whispered back. "And I want you to be happy."
"I am happy. You make me happy. Now," Fizz said, "ride me like you actually mean it, got it?"
Oz squeezed his collar and straightened some. Fizz let his hand drop to Ozzie's stomach, feeling the hard abs flex under it as Ozzie lifted and sank back down with a moan. Fizz whined, too, as the movement rubbed against his shorts against his core and sent sparks to his chest. Fizz's hips snapped to meet Ozzie's on the next grind. Ozzie sighed and dropped his face to Fizz's for a sloppy kiss.
"Needy much?" Fizz whispered when he pulled back again.
"For you?" Ozzie panted. "Always."
Fizz cursed under his breath and wrapped his fingers around Ozzie's cock. His thumb traced the head lightly, just enough to make Oz shudder at the sensation.
"Oh, babe, fuck. Wait," said Oz.
He gripped Fizz's wrist and raised it to his head where he pressed it into his curls.
"Pull," he sighed.
With a fresh moan, Fizz wove the hair around his fingers and yanked hard. Ozzie choked on a whine, his eyes flicking back the way Fizz felt his own do when he was choked. He watched Oz reach down to stroke himself between them. Fuck, if only he still had two functional hands…
Ozzie twitched, and the dildo rubbed against Fizz's cock again.
"Fuck! Oz… Ozzie…"
"Doing okay?"
Fizz jerked Ozzie's hair back. The queen whimpered and bounced harder on Fizz's lap. Fizz's lip flickered into a smirk.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he rumbled. "Look at you. You're all mine now, hm? My baby girl slut."
Ozzie gasped, his hand quickening along his shaft.
"Oh, you like that, huh?" Fizz laughed and tugged Ozzie's hair again. "Like it when I treat you like the dirty bitch you are?"
"Froggy…"
Fizz released his hair and pinched a nipple instead. Ozzie whined in response as Fizz twisted the ring.
"Don't finish yet, got it?" he growled playfully. "I don't want to wash your whore jizz off my chest."
"Damn it, Froggy… You're pushing it…"
"You can always—"
"Shut your fucking mouth."
Fizz barked another laugh, saying, "I trust you, hot stuff."
Oz pouted.
Fizz rolled his eyes and said, "I trust you, ho bag."
Ozzie grinned and resumed riding Fizz's cock with a breathy moan, rolling his hips as he did in a way that made Fizz light up with every movement. He flicked Ozzie's nipple again.
"That's a good whore," he groaned. "Fuck, you ride like a champ, you know that? How much experience do you have, baby girl? Hmm? Ever taken cock this big?"
Ozzie shook his head and whined. He licked his hand then resumed jerking himself off.
"Gonna punish me, big boy?" he asked. "If I come on you?"
"I'll have to, won't I? You can't just go around coming on people, not even if you're a slut," said Fizz. "Not even on me."
Oz chuckled breathily and said, "Not like I can help it when you're being so hot."
"Oh, I'm hot, huh? Is it because I can do this?"
Fizz squeezed his nipple between two knuckles and used his thumb to scrape the alert flesh. Ozzie buckled over with a sudden groan, and heat splattered up Fizz's chest. Ozzie sucked in a shuddering breath as Fizz licked and kissed his neck.
"Now what did I say about getting me messy, slut?" Fizz sang playfully against his throat. "Clean it up."
Oz lifted his head from the couch arm to slide down Fizz's body and plant his face into the slight meat on his stomach and ribs. With a sigh, Ozzie parted his lips and licked Fizz's skin slowly clean. Fizz hummed, scratched Ozzie's hairline, and watched the man meticulously lap up his own spend.
"You're so fucking sexy, baby," he whispered. "Too bad you're not sexy enough to keep yourself out of trouble, huh?"
Ozzie trembled but stayed quiet and focused on sucking Fizz's abdomen. Fizz relaxed into the sensations. He and Oz learned quickly that it was definitely his most sensitive skin, so it got constant attention. At least it seemed that way. Ozzie seemed almost obsessed with his stomach, whether by feeding him or scraping his own teeth across the mottled flesh there. Fizz certainly preferred the latter of the two.
A press against his groin reeled him in and drew a gasp. Fizz tipped his head to watch Ozzie mouth at his clothed crotch now that his abs were clean. Those green eyes glowed with pure adoration as they locked with Fizz's.
He rolled his eyes and sighed, "What are you waiting for? A carnival?"
Ozzie yanked the shorts down and dove straight for Fizz's cock with fervor. He teased it with tongue and teeth and lips, a firm thumb slipping along his folds and rubbing slick over the hot skin. Fizz reflexively clamped Ozzie's head down with his thighs, his core electric hot and wound tight in anticipation. Fizz reached down to jerk Ozzie's hair once more.
The resulting moan tipped Fizz over the edge as it vibrated up his body. Oz's fingers glided against his dripping crotch. When Fizz finally released him, Ozzie sat up to stare at the results.
"Oh, God…," Fizz groaned. "That is not cleaner, bitch."
"I wanna fuck these thighs," blurted Ozzie.
Fizz choked on a snort. To his surprise, Oz didn't laugh along. Instead, he rubbed Fizz's cum up his thighs and along his dick.
"You're fucking serious?"
Ozzie nodded eagerly, saying, "Crush me, sir."
Fizz felt his ears heat up at being called 'sir,' but he tilted his head as if he didn't care.
"Punishment first," he said. "Then you can take me to the bath and fuck my thighs there. I'm a fucking mess."
"I like you messy," chuckled Ozzie, helping Fizz sit up and kissing him softly.
With a shake of his head, Fizz directed Ozzie over his lap. Oz hummed as he settled in place with his ass up, dick pressed to Fizz's thigh. Fizz buried his hand in cerulean locks and yanked gently. Ozzie gasped, lifting his hips in expectation. Fizz chortled back.
"All green, doll?" he asked.
"So so fucking green," whined Ozzie. "Please, babe…"
Fizz snapped his false arm forward, measuring the force of the slap by the satisfying thwack that reached his ears and the squeak that slipped from Ozzie's lips.
"Froggy…"
"Green?"
"Nuclear," gasped Ozzie. "Please… more please."
Fizz smirked and pulled on Ozzie's curls again, heart skipping at the way the man's eyes fluttered and the little moan that bubbled from his throat. Amused at the response, he swatted Ozzie's flank again. Then again and again, harder when a sobbing plea for more rolled off Ozzie's tongue.
If his hand were flesh, it would be stinging by the time Ozzie hissed out "motherboard." His massive dong pressed hard into Fizz's leg, twitching when Fizz pulled his hair one last time. He rolled over, grabbed Fizz's neck, and pulled him in for a slow, impassioned kiss.
"I love you, Froggy," he whispered when they parted.
Fizz hummed a giggle and said, "Love you, too, Doll. Now. Bath."
Ozzy nodded and wrapped his arms around Fizz, lifting him as though he were Styrofoam.
"You don't like me making a mess of you?" he asked with a smirk.
"Making the mess is fine," growled Fizz. "It's the not cleaning it up that bugs me."
Ozzie laughed and squeezed Fizz's ass before opening the door to the bathroom. The light popped on, and Oz set Fizz on the edge of the jetted tub. He started the faucet as Fizz let his eyes wander to the vanity mirror.
His gaze raked over his reflection, taking in every little detail. His slight gut. His heavily scarred skin. His plastic hand. His bald head. With a gentle clatter, the sight vanished, replaced by a navy curtain. Fizz blinked away his confusion to look at Oz.
"Sorry," Fizz croaked.
"You don't need to apologize, Fizzy," cooed Ozzie. "When you hurt, I feel it. If I can help, I wanna."
Shaking his head, Fizz laughed, "I'm always gonna hurt. But you help. And what you don't fix is worth enduring."
Ozzie hummed, cocking his head, and said, "We don't have to… I mean, if you don't want—."
"I want! Ozzie," scowled Fizz, "I'm not a whore, but I've had sex before. You're the first person I've enjoyed it with. You don't have to tell me that I can ask you to stop. I know I can, and I know you would listen. I want a bath, and I want you to fuck me in it. Got it?"
Fizz slid into the tub and shut the tap off. He moaned at how his hips relaxed, turning weightless in the hot water. Ozzie seemed to relax, too, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile.
"How are you so handsome inside and out?" he asked, leaning naked over the bath.
Fizz smirked to hide a bite to the inside of his cheek. Arguing with Oz over whether or not he was handsome in the past proved to be a fool's errand he'd given up on repeating. Didn't make the compliment easier to accept, though. He could, however, accept watching Ozzie slide into the tub, arms outstretched for him like he was some kind of life buoy. Fizz took his hand and pulled close, tucking his head into Ozzie's neck to breathe him in like a drug. Aftershave and body cream filtered to the back of Fizz's throat and stuck there. He felt Oz tilt his head, and they fell into a pattern of barely-there kisses. Then Ozzie reached for a bottle.
"Well, well," rumbled Fizz with a grin, "aren't I a lucky fucker tonight?"
"I like to think we got lucky together," grinned Ozzie.
He slathered moisturizer on his hands and started at Fizz's neck, rubbing small, firm circles right behind his ears. Shutting his eyes, Fizz melted into the sure and strong hands working his body. He couldn't really feel the heat or the dampness on his skin, not with how badly it was damaged…
But he could feel the pressure. Ozzie's insistence to experiment paid off in this discovery alone, in Fizz's opinion. Of course not everywhere, but most spots he'd deemed numb reacted to the deep massaging Ozzie suggested, thank whatever god was listening, because stress headaches alone were enough to level him some days.
Which Ozzie learned to absolutely smother from existence fairly quickly, just the way he did now, working down his neck on either side of his spine like he was carding wool with his fingers. Fizz moaned at a particular knot as Ozzie brushed it.
"Aw, is my froggy gonna sing for me tonight?"
He pressed harder on the knot and rubbed slowly. Fizz felt like bread being kneaded to perfection in his queen's arms. His mouth hung open and dumb as little squeaks and sighs escaped.
"Ozzie…" breathed Fizz as the hands moved again, focusing on shoulders that never seemed fully relaxed.
"Feeling better?"
"You and your fucking foreplay…"
"You love it."
"Never said I didn't."
Ozzie laughed, "That's how I know you love it. That and how worked up you get by the end."
"Not my fault it takes an hour to get enough blood to your kaiju of a cock to get off," Fizz mumbled back.
Ozzie snorted, pinching Fizz's shoulders hard and maybe making him moan a little louder.
"Okay, 'monster cock' I've heard. 'Kaiju' is somehow a new one," he laughed. "Holy shit, babe."
"Get back to rubbing me down, drag show."
"So needy," sang Oz.
He obeyed, though, which made Fizz melt into his lap again. Well, most of him melted. One leg may have pressed between Ozzie's legs for friction.
Fizz chuckled again and said, "Oh, so maybe not an hour, huh?"
Oz whimpered and squeezed again as he jerked against the flesh.
"Fuck," he breathed.
"I'll give you permission," said Fizz, raking his teeth down Ozzie's throat.
Ozzie cursed under his breath again and twisted Fizz around. His hands dipped briefly under the water to slick Fizz's thighs with the moisturizer before shooting back up to pin him to his chest and tease a nipple.
"Shut your legs," he panted in Fizz's ear, "as hard as you can. Trust me, it feels so good, Fizzy."
Fizz obeyed, squeezing his limbs tight together. Ozzie lined up his cock and pressed forward.
Fizz gasped, a little thrown-off by the feeling. It almost felt too close, a bubble of dysphoria growing in his gut. Then Ozzie pulled back, and Fizz almost screamed. The drag of Ozzie's massive dick along his— Could he even put it in words? It set of fireworks in his skin, not like he was burning but like being electrocuted.
"Green?" Ozzie asked softly.
"T-try it again?"
With a nod, Oz pressed forward again. Fizz focused on that sliding, on how his cock followed Ozzie's like it was an instruction manual and… he felt fine. He leaned back against Ozzie's shoulder with a sigh.
"It was that first push," he said.
Ozzie kissed his temple and whispered, "Oh, babe… We can stop if—."
"No! No, it's good, it just…," Fizz shuddered and squeezed his thighs. "Just start here, okay?"
"Ah, I see. Whatever you need, Froggy."
Ozzie snapped his hips, and Fizz moaned like a fucking virgin. Did he say fine? It felt a-fucking-mazing, the way his swollen dick obeyed Ozzie's. His own hips started rolling in time with Ozzie's in a naked tango, splashing little waves against the porcelain again and again and again.
"Fuck," Fizz whimpered as his good hand burrowed into Ozzie's hair and pulled.
Oz swore, too. He dragged his nails across Fizz's chest as he rocked fervently against him.
"Shit, Froggy… I need… Love you so much. So fucking much," he hissed.
Fizz's body spasmed as a fresh orgasm rocketed up his spine. Feather-light and dazed, he descended from the clouds and into Ozzie's arms again. Oz panted into his ear, clearly coming down from his own release.
Fizz sighed, "Water's getting cold."
"Mm-hm. Tired, my little froggy prince?"
Ozzie wrapped an arm around him, the other moving to drain the tub. Fizz nodded and pressed up into Ozzie's throat again.
"How about you?" he asked.
Oz chuckled and said, "I think I'll sleep pretty good tonight."
With a nip at the performer's collarbone, Fizz grinned.
"Take us to bed, then, my queen."
Notes:
I love you guys.