Chapter Text
Ozzie was gone when Fizz woke up, but he could faintly hear the sound of his deep vocals, meaning he was talking to someone. Yawning widely, Fizz sat up and stretched his back out, snatching his phone from the bedside table to check the time since Oz still hadn’t put the alarm clock back. Late morning. Fuck, Ozzie was spoiling him again. Fizz was finding that alarm, he couldn’t miss any more days of helping out, he was supposed to be co-owner of their company.
Oliver’s tiny hand grabbed at his shirt, and Fizz glanced down, taking a quiet breath to clear his head. Right. Oz wasn’t doing this just to spoil him, he was giving him time to be there for Oliver, be there for his kit.
“Guess I can figure out a new schedule later…” Fizz murmured, smiling as he lifted Oliver into his arms, making sure his kit still had his doll so he wouldn’t fuss. “C’mon Ollie, let’s go see where Oz got to.”
Oliver’s little tail swished and he cuddled closer, still dozing even as his claws gripped Fizz’s shirt. Fizz licked his face gently to wake him, humming softly as Oliver’s eyes slowly opened. He carried him out of the bedroom, in the direction of the voices, letting Oliver wake up on his own terms as Fizz moved.
“Thank you again for coming…” Ozzie was saying to someone from inside the kitchen. Fizz’s steps slowed – who did Oz invite over? He wouldn’t be talking to one of the workers, they didn’t have access to the penthouse unless given permission. “I really needed someone who understands this sort of thing better.”
Someone who understood what? Who was Oz talking to? Fizz blinked in confusion, glancing down at Oliver to check on him again. His kit was fine, rubbing his eyes and shaking the sleep from his body. He licked his impling gently once more, then slowly pushed the kitchen door open with his hip.
“Ozzie, please tell me the coffee’s ready?” Fizz asked as he entered the room, only to freeze in surprise when he spotted just who Oz was talking to.
Stolas Goetia looked over at him at the same time Ozzie did, eyes wider than normal for a moment before they softened to match his gentle smile.
“Hello Fizzarolli, it’s good to see you.” Stolas greeted.
“Uh-huh, you too.” Fizz mumbled, tail lashing slightly as he stared up at his boyfriend. “Oz, what’s happening?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Fizzyfrog.” Ozzie cooed, bringing over a kettle steaming with the delicious smell of coffee. “Here’s your coffee, need me to hold Oliver for a minute?”
“I got it.” Fizz balanced Oliver on his hip and took the coffee in his other hand. He wasted no time in taking a swig, happily licking his lips as the caffeine did its job.
“Ah, is this your new impling, Fizzarolli?” Stolas was smiling at Oliver. Fizz tightened his grip on his kit and lashed his tail forward to provide an extra barrier.
“Yeah, why?”
“Fizzy–”
But Stolas held a hand up to stop Ozzie from interjecting, kneeling down to wave at Oliver. “He’s beautiful, Fizzarolli, and lucky to have such a good parent.”
Fizz untensed, just a bit, setting the kettle down on the counter so he could cradle Oliver in both arms. “...Thanks.”
Stolas spied the doll in Oliver’s grasp. “Does he have any other plushies? Via has grown out of quite a few and I would love to see them go to a new little one.”
“...Yeah, maybe.” Fizz stroked a hand against Oliver’s hair to get his attention, signing with a gentle smile. Ollie, this is Stolas, he’s a Prince of this fancy family called the Ars Goetia. Can you say hi for me?
Oliver nodded and offered a small wave to Stolas before turning to bury his head into Fizz’s shirt, earning a flurry of amused chuckles from all three adults.
“Hello to you too.” Stolas laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it, Fizzarolli, Via was the same way whenever she met someone new.”
Fizz nodded, slowly curling his tail back around behind him. “So, what exactly are you doing here?”
“Just having a chat, Fizzy.” Ozzie leaned in to kiss him lightly on the nose. “We won’t be long, promise. Oh, and there’s someone waiting for you out in the living room if you want to head over there~”
Fizz raised a brow with a sly smirk. “I think I know who.”
It didn’t take a genius – the twink bird was here, so that could only mean…
“I won’t keep you if you wish to go say hello.” Stolas was giggling. “I’m sure he’d be glad to meet his new nephew.”
Fizz grinned back, nodded, and turned to head into the living room, leaving the two birdies to finish their conversation. He cuddled Oliver to his chest, humming to him as he scampered towards the living room. Hopefully Blitz didn’t find the remote yet, he wanted to show Ollie some of the silent cartoons he liked.
He lightly kicked the living room door open with a foot, beaming as he stuck his head in. “Hello hello Blitz-with-no-o!”
“Fizz!” Blitz grinned at him from where he knelt on the couch, leaning over the armrest with an excited swish of his tail. “I was wondering where you were, the Royal Chicken said you were asleep.”
“Yeah, I was.” Fizz huffed, tail swishing in mild irritation. “Ozzie hid the alarm clock.”
“Ha! I should’ve done that.”
Oliver’s fist closed around Fizz’s shirt and tugged, clearly confused. Fizz paused to pet his head soothingly, then walked completely into the room, revealing Oliver to Blitz.
“Oliver, this is my annoying friend Blitz.” Fizz signed as he spoke, looking up at the stunned imp smugly. “Blitz, this is Oliver.”
“...The fuck?”
“I’m gonna let that one slide.” Fizz lifted Oliver closer to nuzzle him, laughing when he clung tightly, refusing to be set down.
“Fizz– you– I’m an uncle?! Since fucking when?!”
“Stop cursing, you idiot.” Fizz snapped, curling his tail protectively in front of Oliver again. “Since about two days ago.”
“Oh. Okay, got it.” Blitz was staring at Oliver with interest, tail lazily flicking from side to side. “So you adopted him, huh?”
“Something like that.” Fizz cuddled Oliver close, smiling down at him. “But he’s my kit.”
“Huh, well alright then. Guess this makes us samesies now.”
“...What?” Fizz arched a brow at Blitz, who shrugged and hopped up to sit on the armrest, legs kicking.
“Just that– hey, you two haven’t screwed on here, have you?”
“Well, not recently…” He smirked at the face Blitz made. “But what are you saying?”
“Oh, just that you copied me for once instead of the other way around, adopted a kid. He’s pretty cute by the way, congrats–”
“Wait, what?!” Fizz jolted closer, keeping Oliver secure in his arms. “You have a kid?! I– wait, I’m an uncle?!”
“Oh yeah, I forgot I didn’t tell you…”
“How do you forget that, dipshi–” Fizz found his mouth covered by a grinning Blitz’s tail.
“Stop cursing, you idiot~” Blitz taunted, yanking his tail back right as Fizz was about to nip it so he’d let go. “And I dunno, been kinda busy lately saving your scrawny butt from, oh, the mafia and Mammon… also that one creep.”
“Whatever.” Fizz rolled his eyes, glancing down to see Oliver looking between them nervously. He smiled and booped him. Don’t worry Ollie, we’re always like this.
Oliver giggled, nodding in understanding as he burrowed into Fizz. Reassured that Oliver was fine, Fizz gave Blitz a look.
“Alright, now spill. Who am I the uncle of?”
Blitz dug around in his suit for his phone and swiped through it, grinning as he showed a photo to Fizz. “Ta-da! Ignore M&M, it’s the first pic I found. This is my Looney-Toony.”
Fizz snorted and leaned in to see. Blitz was standing with four other demons, two of which Fizz recognized as the ones that had caused that ruckus at Ozzie’s. If Blitz knew them personally he and Oz probably had to apologize for messing with them, but he’d deal with that later. Assuming those two were ‘M&M’ he gazed past them to the demon Blitz had his arm thrown around – a gray hellhound with bright red sclera and silver irises, looking very annoyed at being hugged.
“Looney-Toony, huh?”
“Loona.” Blitz explained, putting his phone away with a grin. “She’s twenty-two, and I love her.”
“Guessing you adopted an eighteen year-old?” Fizz raised a brow. “What was the point of that?”
“Hey! She still lives with me and she’s still my baby!” Blitz huffed, tail thrashing slightly. “Besides, she’s your niece, why are you complaining?”
“I’m not.” Fizz shrugged with a grin. “I get to spoil her though.”
“Cool, ditto.” Blitz nodded to Oliver. “Does he like horses?”
“Not everyone likes horses, Blitz.” Fizz rolled his eyes and strutted past Blitz to sit on the couch, holding Oliver on his lap. “He likes clowns, actually. Fan of my work.”
“Ugh, boring. Got your dad’s bad taste then, huh?” Blitz flopped onto the couch beside them, curling his legs up to hug them as he grinned at Fizz’s impling. Fizz huffed, but at Blitz’s raised brow, rolled his eyes and translated the question. With context, and without using Blitz’s choice of word for describing their relationship.
But you’re the coolest, Fizz! Oliver protested, hugging his toy. Fizz grinned.
“Ha. He says I’m the coolest.”
“I call hacks, you can say he’s saying whatever you want.” Blitz huffed, tail flicking, but let it go without a fuss. “I’ll get him some juggling balls or something.”
Fizz smirked. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes, a lot.” Blitz glowered back. “Whatever. At least Looney likes killing people.”
Fizz snorted in amusement, nuzzling Oliver. Blitz watched him for a moment, then grinned, leaning closer and poking his side with his tail. Fizz squeaked and turned to glare at him.
“Blitz! What was that for?!”
“Just making sure.”
“Of what…?”
“That you’re still vulnerable to the tickle monster!”
“Gah!” Fizz jumped off the couch as Blitz lunged, a smile growing on his face even as he evaded the pounce. “Blitz, I’m holding a kit!”
“So put the kit down so he can join in too!” Blitz was on all fours, off the couch and prowling towards Fizz.
Fizz hesitated, glancing at Oliver – he probably didn’t know much about playfighting, plus they were so much bigger than him. But his kit was beaming and squirming, little muffled giggles escaping as he tugged Fizz’s shirt, eager to play.
Okay Ollie, I’ll put you down now, we can escape from the tickle monster together. Fizz offered, smiling when he received an excited nod in response.
Fizz set his kit down, promptly dropping onto all fours. Oliver copied him a little more clumsily, and Fizz steadied him, offering a gentle lick to the base of his horns for encouragement. He then turned back towards where the smirking Blitz was still crouched.
“Alright, bring it, Blitz.” Fizz taunted, tail lashing playfully. Blitz grinned wider, and lunged.
~~~
“Alright, so what was that?” Ozzie asked once Fizz left the room, turning to look at Stolas as the owl prince sat back down. “And how did you calm him down like that?”
“Breathe, Asmodeus.” Stolas smiled at him gently, summoning a book with his magic. “From what I know, that sort of behavior is perfectly normal for imps with kits, especially if they’re new to parenting.”
“Fizzy kept using that word – kit.”
“It’s another world for child or impling.” Stolas slid the book over to him. When he picked up the tome, he spotted the words ‘Imp Behavior’ on the cover. “Fizzarolli was displaying natural behavior for his kind, imp parents are quite protective of their young. They can even get defensive towards their own mate if they see them as a threat to their kit’s survival.”
“He hissed at me because I was trying to nuzzle Oliver… something about ‘grooming’?”
“Oh!” Stolas’ feathers fluffed excitedly. “He’s been grooming? Both of you, or just Oliver?”
“Er– depends. What is grooming?”
“The best way I could describe it would be their version of preening.” Stolas explained with a light blush. “They use their claws and tongues to groom each other’s hair or spines. Blitz has even done it with me on occasion, their tongues don’t produce saliva while they’re grooming so it’s actually quite a relaxing experience.”
“So he was grooming Oliver to get him clean?”
“Or just to smooth his hair out, it probably tangles easily,” Stolas nodded to the book. “There’s a section in there about it – was he grooming him the first day?”
“And hissed at me then, yes.”
“Ah, then there’s the answer.” Stolas picked up the mug of tea Ozzie had given him, taking a sip before continuing. “Imps groom their young to strengthen bonds with them. Since Oliver is not Fizzarolli’s child by blood, he’s reassuring him he belongs here. He likely just didn’t want you messing up Oliver’s hair, nothing about how he acted now indicates he sees you as a threat.”
Ozzie nodded slowly, picking up the book with a raised brow. “Stolas, is there anything about nest-making in here?”
“Ooh, he’s built a nest?!” Stolas beamed. “Blitzy has too, but it might be different since Fizzarolli would be building it for Oliver as well. Did he let you in?”
“Well, yeah, he made it on our bed.” Ozzie chuckled softly. “He dragged all sorts of things into it too, extra blankets, stuffed animals, my bathrobe, to name a few.”
“Blitz stole one of mine for his,” Stolas laughed. “It seems like they collect things for their nest that bring them comfort – soft toys, pillows, or blankets. But they especially like items with their family’s scents. Oliver has, of course, not been living with you long enough to get his scent on much other than his clothes, but this is your home, everything here smells like you.”
“It… does?”
“Well, to Fizzarolli, Blitz, and Oliver, it would. We can’t really smell personal scents like they can, but the scents are there. Has Fizzarolli been nuzzling and rubbing against you, by chance?”
“He does it all the time,” Ozzie chuckled fondly. “But we’re always nuzzling, his skin is extra sensitive, so he likes it more.”
“Yes, I figured. But Asmodeus, that’s him rubbing his scent on you. When imps rub their scent onto others, particularly their Clans or mates, they’re claiming that demon as theirs. I suppose it’s less obvious here since there’s not nearly as many imps in Lust as in Pride, but he’s essentially marking you as his mate, so any other imps will know you belong to him.”
“Oh?” Ozzie laughed softly, grinning as he remembered just how clingy his Fizz could get. Maybe that was him trying to prove his claim in lieu of the demons around them not recognizing his scent. “Possessive, are they?”
“Very,” Stolas laughed as well. “Every time Blitz rubs against me, my servants give a wide berth for days after, even if he’s not there. As I said, it’s likely not quite as obvious down here since Succubi can’t react to it the way imps would, but that’s what Fizzarolli is doing.”
“Probably not, yeah.” Ozzie nodded, finally opening the book and leafing through a couple pages absentmindedly. “So it’s all normal, then? All of this?”
“Perfectly normal,” Stolas reassured, offering a smile. “I can understand why you’re worried, but this is typical for imps.”
“Well that’s a relief. I was worried something was wrong.”
Stolas shook his head. “All natural. Oh, and as for your first question, I calmed Fizzarolli down by making it clear I was not going to take his kit. They normally get quite protective of their young. Blitz has even gone feral because he was so determined to protect my Via from a group of thugs. I’m sure he would do the same for his Loona too, but she can defend herself quite a bit more than Via.”
“I’ll do my best not to let it come to that,” Ozzie murmured half to himself as he flipped another page in the book. “I know it’s instinct, but Fizzy ain’t Blitz, I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“Well yes, that’s understandable. But he is a parent now, you know, and speaking from experience, there is nothing one wouldn’t do for their child. I know it’s frightening to see your partner hurt, believe me. But he will be alright. Imps will fight and kill for their young, but the book seems to imply they usually draw back if they’re outmatched, because they recognize their kit needs them more than they need to win.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ozzie checked the table of contents, then flipped to the section about nesting. There were a few sketched examples, detailing how they gathered items with Clan scents. He traced over the unknown term, humming in thought. “What exactly are ‘Clans’?”
“Flocks, essentially. Close friends, family, mates and children.”
“Friends, hm?” Ozzie frowned, feeling a dull sorrow for his partner as he realized... “I think Blitz is the only friend Fizzy’s had in all the time I’ve known him. Is- Is that bad?”
“I don’t believe so.” Stolas tilted his head in thought. “If anything it might have been bad if you weren’t in Fizzarolli’s life either. They do better with close-knit Clans, no matter how big the size. True, most thrive in larger groups since imp families typically have anywhere from five to six kits, but with you being his mate, he relies on you for the companionship imps get from Clans. I know myself and Octavia are fairly new to Blitz’s Clan, though Loona, Moxxie, and Millie likely haven’t been in it for very long either. He’s rather closed off with everyone.”
“I gathered.” Ozzie chuckled softly, looking up at Stolas at last. “So if Blitz is Fizzy’s friend, he’s in his Clan, isn’t he?”
“Sort of. From what I’ve read, imp Clans don’t tend to have one overarching leader unless it is purely composed of a biological family, then the eldest parents would automatically be in charge. I’m afraid I’m no expert, but if I were to theorize, Fizzarolli and Blitz might simply merge their Clans. No one leader, but Fizzarolli’s Clan – being you and Oliver – would become a part of Blitz’s, and vice-versa. Though that likely depends on whether Fizzarolli wishes to interact with the rest of us in Blitz’s Clan or not. If that were the case, Blitz may simply become part of your Clan as well, without a full merge.”
“Well, he seems plenty cordial with you, and I’m sure he’ll want to meet Loona, if she’s Blitz’s kid. The other two, are they–?”
“The ones who were at Ozzie’s that night?” Stolas finished for him with a confirming nod. “Yes, I think Blitz mentioned he would get Millie to apologize for hurting Fizzarolli, if you both would apologize for, well, everything that happened.”
“I think that can be arranged.” Ozzie shut the book and tucked it away to review later. “The imp boy, Moxxie, his song was nice, we both liked it and the kid’s got pipes. The problem was the subject matter. Personally, I don’t mind a little love song once in a while, but the club’s typical patrons don’t go there looking for that.”
“And I’m sure they will accept your apology if you tell them such. I’ve spoken with them on occasion, they are very understanding.”
“Noted.” Ozzie was about to ask Stolas if there was anything else he could tell him, and if not apologize again for how he treated him that night. But a sudden peal of his Fizzy’s laughter cut through the kitchen, interrupting his train of thought. He jolted, glancing down the hallway with a raised brow. “Fizzy?”
There was another shout of laughter, and Stolas followed his gaze. “That was Blitz.”
“Guess we should go check and see what our partners are up to, hm?” Ozzie headed for the door with a chuckle. “Wonder why they’re laughing…”
Stolas followed fast behind, keeping pace easily enough with his long legs. The living room door was open, telling Ozzie how they had been able to hear the two. Stolas peeked in since he was smaller, and his eyes widened.
“Asmodeus, come look!” He whispered excitedly as several excited flurries of chirping noises came from the room. “They’re play-fighting.”
“Play-fighting?” Ozzie moved to loom over Stolas, looking in to see what the prince meant.
Fizz was on top of the couch, crouched on all fours, snickering as Blitz leapt at him, also on all fours. Blitz’s aim was perfect, and he easily tackled the jester off his perch, onto the floor. They tumbled in a flurry of excited-sounding laughter. Though Ozzie winced at the impact, upon closer inspection he noticed Blitz was being gentle with the tackle, he even rolled them in the fall to make sure he would land first.
“More normal imp behavior,” Stolas explained in a hushed tone. “Young imps do it to hone their natural skill sets, but adults will playfully tussle from time to time. Blitz and Fizzarolli seem to be doing so purely for fun.”
Ozzie chuckled softly, nodding as he kept his gaze on the imps. Fizz scrambled off of Blitz with a squeal, trying to flee before Blitz gently nipped his tail to stop him. He easily grabbed Fizz’s waist to yank him back over with a laugh, fingers digging into his sides to make the jokester burst out laughing. Fizz squirmed around and pushed off Blitz, stumbling backwards. He rose on two legs briefly before falling back onto all fours, promptly prowling around to where Oliver was sitting. The kid was watching the two adult imps, giggling. Fizz curled his tail around Oliver, let out a low, rumbling purr, then began signing to him.
Blitz was moving towards them with a grin, tail lashing side to side. Oliver nodded up at Fizz before scampering out of the way. Fizz, in turn, let out a few short hissing noises, tail flicking briefly as he began pacing back and forth, smirking. Right as Blitz lunged for Fizz, Oliver grabbed his legs, sending him into a faceplant. Fizz stretched his arms out to lift Oliver up, moving to sit triumphantly on Blitz’s back with a broad grin, Oliver in his lap.
“Fizz, let me up!” Blitz groaned, squirming under him. “I call cheats again, you’re completely useless in combat, how did you do that?!”
“Teamwork.” Fizz grinned, signing to Oliver as the impling hugged him.
“Yep, cheater. Now lemme up!”
“Nah.”
Ozzie laughed, deciding that they’d done enough watching. He swept into the room, hearing Stolas following behind. “Froggie, play nice~”
~~~
“Ozzie!”
Fizz lifted Oliver off his lap, holding him out for Oz to take. The Sin smiled as he took the offered kit into his arms and cradled him gently. Fizz pulled himself off Blitz once Oliver had been moved, snickering as he lashed his tail in Blitz’s direction. Blitz stuck his tongue out, so Fizz stuck his out in return, stretching his arms to wrap around Oz’s neck and pull himself out of reach, since Blitz was looking ready to pounce again.
“Hey–!”
“Blitzy, I think that’s enough games for now.” Stolas offered, beckoning the imp closer with a fond smile. Fizz snorted in amusement and slipped back down to the ground, though he kept his legs extended enough to reach Oliver.
“Yeah whatever. You finish all your boring business cra– er, stuff, or whatever you birds were doing?” Blitz asked, stumbling over the correction at Fizz’s deadpan glare.
“Yes, we’re done.” Stolas smiled and ran a hand along Blitz’s head, causing him to purr in response, tail flicking.
Oliver grabbed Fizz’s shirt gently to get his attention, purring quietly. Fizz smiled and lifted him into his arms, purring back. He noticed his kit didn’t have his doll with him, and after looking around, spotted it on the couch, safely out of harm’s way from the play-fighting. He said nothing though – if Oliver was feeling comfortable enough to set it down, that was good progress. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and mess it up.
You having fun, Ollie?
Yes! But can we have breakfast now?
“Oz, Oliver wants food.” Fizz nuzzled his kit gently.
“Ha! I knew it!” Blitz shouted suddenly, and Fizz gave him a flat look.
“Knew what?”
“Made a bet with Stolas that the Chicken is the one who cooks, since I remember all the times you failed to make eggs.”
Fizz opened his mouth to retort, then reconsidered. “…Touché.”
“Don’t know what that means but I’ll take it as ‘you win’.” Blitz held a hand out to Stolas expectantly, and the bird sighed endearingly.
“I thought perhaps you would have had a bit more faith in your friend,” the Prince pulled out several soul coins and dropped them into Blitz’s hand.
“Nope!”
Ozzie laughed, kneeling to rub his face against Fizz’s with a grin. “Oh, don’t worry about that, birdy babe. Trust me, Fizzy is well aware I don’t want him anywhere near my kitchen again.”
Blitz’s eyes widened and he turned to grin at Fizz’s shy blush. “I sense gossip, tell me what happened!”
“Nothing!” Fizz huffed, tucking Oliver closer defensively. “It was no big deal, really.”
“Froggie, you made a pot explode.”
Blitz burst out laughing as Fizz pouted. “What were you trying to make?!”
“Shut up, you want breakfast or not?”
Blitz wisely went quiet. Fizz grinned, then looked up at Ozzie, who lifted him into his arms with a smile. Fizz stretched an arm out to snag Oliver’s doll, settling it gently in his kit’s reaching hands, kissing his head.
“Well, come on you two, I’ll find us something to eat,” Oz beckoned Blitz and Stolas to follow as he carried Fizz and Oliver back towards the kitchen. Ozzie set Fizz on the nearest chair and headed to the stove. “You two want some french toast?”
“French what?”
“It’s toast that’s been pan-fried, Blitz.” Stolas replied as Blitz scrambled into the chair beside Fizz’s.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t know what it was either the first time Oz made it.” Fizz admitted with a sheepish grin, and Blitz snorted in amusement.
“French toast it is then,” Ozzie chuckled, turning to collect the necessary ingredients.
Fizz smiled, bouncing Oliver on his lap. Hey Ollie, you ever had french toast before?
Oliver shook his head no. Fizz smiled and kissed his kit’s head gently.
It’s really good, Oz is going to make it for us, okay?
Oliver nodded, purring as he nuzzled against Fizz. Blitz was giving him a smug grin, so he tucked his kit’s head into his chest and flashed the middle finger at him.
“You know you would,” Blitz retorted immediately, smirking as his tail flicked over to twine around Fizz’s. Fizz scoffed and nuzzled his face into Oliver’s hair so Blitz wouldn’t see his blush.
“Play nice you two.” Ozzie laughed as he carried over the first batch of toast, still steaming as he set it down on the table with some syrup, powdered sugar, and fresh fruit.
“Yes, there’s a child present.” Stolas then leaned in to whisper something to Blitz that had him turning redder than Fizz thought he could get – it was fucking hilarious. “Ah, thank you for cooking, Asmodeus.”
“Not a problem, birdy babe, I enjoy it.” Ozzie came around to wrap his arms around Fizz, sharing a quick, loving nuzzle with him. “Got another batch on the stove, give me a minute.”
Fizz set Oliver on one of the remaining chairs, setting up a plate for him and sliding it over with a smile. He gave his impling a fork and showed him how to cut into the thick bread, then let Oliver eat on his own, making sure the Fizzarolli doll was safely out of powdered-sugar range. Blitz was being shown how to decorate his slice of bread by Stolas, so Fizz prepped his own, smirking when he saw the look on Blitz’s face as he took his first bite. Ozzie came back over with the second, final batch of toast, setting it down before kissing Fizz on the head lightly.
“Happy, Froggie?”
“Oh yeah.” Fizz smiled, wrapping his arms around Ozzie’s neck to nuzzle him fondly. He felt a small tug on his tail from Blitz’s. “What, Blitz?”
“You’re being too sappy, stop it.”
Fizz rolled his eyes, turning to glare at him. “Oh, like you and your bird haven’t been sappy.”
“Shut up.”
A sudden weight came hopping onto Fizz’s lap, and he looked down to see Oliver scrambling to pull himself up from where he’d just leapt onto Fizz. Ozzie smiled warmly and helped up, settling the impling securely in Fizz’s arms.
“There you go, kitten.” Ozzie cooed softly, stroking Oliver’s hair. “Fizzy’s got you now.”
Fizz laughed, nuzzling his impling. Don’t jump like that again, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.
I won’t! Oliver’s face was covered in powdered sugar and fruit juice as he smiled up at Fizz. I promise, dad!
Fizz let out a quiet noise of surprise, clutching Oliver tighter.
“Fizzy? What’s wrong?” Ozzie placed both hands on his shoulders, concern dripping from his tone.
“Whazzit now? The kid sign a curse word or sm’thin?” Blitz was talking with his mouth full again.
“Is everything alright?” Stolas was leaning towards them, a handkerchief in hand, probably trying to offer it to help clean Oliver’s face.
Fizz ignored them all, took a deep breath, and slowly lifted a hand. Spreading his fingers wide, he tapped his thumb to his forehead, echoing Oliver with a question in his gaze. Dad?
Oliver’s smile stayed, though Fizz could see a slight fear creeping into his expression as it turned shy, eyes widening as he signed back. Is it okay?
Fizz felt tears in his eyes, lifting Oliver and hugging him tight, laughing as he buried his face into the soft white hair. Ozzie was rubbing his back, and he knew he was probably scaring the others since none of them could understand the conversation, but he didn’t care. Ozzie knelt beside him to take his hand.
“Fizz? Froggie, talk to me, what is it?”
Choking on a laugh, Fizz lifted his hand and performed the sign again. “Dad. Ozzie, Ozzie he called me dad!”
Ozzie froze, eyes going wide, before he beamed, leaning in to kiss Fizz full on the lips for a brief moment, pulling back with a bright laugh. “He called you dad!”
“Consider yourself fuckin’ lucky.” Blitz scooted his chair closer, swishing their still-intertwined tails. “Y’know how long it took Loona to call me dad? And she still says Blitz most of the time!”
“Oh, Fizzarolli, that’s wonderful!” Stolas was smiling at them as he wound his arms around Blitz’s neck, head coming to rest between the imp’s horns. “Congratulations.”
Fizz laughed harder still, lifting Oliver’s chin gently to cup his head, stroking his hand along his kit’s sugar-covered face, beaming widely. Oliver met his gaze, tears welling in his own eyes, and slowly started to sign.
You’ll be my dad?
“Yes!” Fizz signed back at the same time he spoke, still laughing as Ozzie wiped tears from his eyes and Stolas came closer to pass them the handkerchief. Yes, Ollie, I’m your dad!
Oliver beamed, and Fizz wiped tears from his own face, smiling warmly as he took the handkerchief from Stolas. He began wiping the powdered sugar and fruit juice from his kit’s face, nuzzling him gently.
“Well, congrats Fizz,” Blitz was lifting his fork in triumph. “Here’s to hoping we don’t screw up our kids, eh?”
“Oh shut up,” Fizz laughed, kissing Oliver’s forehead with a smile. “I don’t know about you but I’m going to be the best dad ever.”
“Got that right, babe.” Ozzie crooned, kissing Fizz’s cheek.
“And of course Blitz and I would be happy to help as well. I have quite a lot of experience with my Via, she used to be such a little rascal–”
“Hey hey hey, why are you volunteering me too?”
“I was under the impression you would be eager to help as well.”
“I– well, still!”
Fizz ignored Stolas and Blitz’s little flirting-teasing-whatever-it-was-session in favor of cuddling his kit closer, just relishing in the fact he was a father now.
He didn’t have much experience with fathers. Buckzo was about the closest to a father figure he’d had, and if the way Blitz and Barb turned out was any indication, he was crap at it. But Fizz had to try. He was not going to let Oliver end up like any of them. He was not going to want for anything, or suffer, or feel any more pain. Fizz traced a gentle heart on Oliver’s shattered horns, still smiling even as tears dried against his face.
Oliver was going to have the happiest childhood ever. Fizz would make sure of that. Not just him either, judging by the way Stolas and Blitz had jumped at the chance to include themselves. There was also the way that his boyfriend was smiling like he held a galaxy in his arms, instead of two imps. Fizz nestled his face against Ozzie’s fluff, cradling Oliver to his chest all while purring, stroking his kit’s hair soothingly. Blitz and his bird had fallen silent, and Ozzie was kissing his head gently. Fizz tilted away from the affection with a quiet laugh, then locked eyes with Blitz and Stolas. The two were standing nearby with proud, warm smiles, beckoning them into a new step in their friendship – the shared experience of parenthood.
This was good. This was wonderful.
For the first time in a long while, Fizz was well and truly fine.