Chapter Text
The Pride Ring had never necessarily been Fizz’s favorite. He’d performed many a show there in his lifetime, between the circus and his time with Mammon, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get downright giddy whenever it was time to pack up and move on. He could never get out of Pride fast enough.
He had never really been able to put his finger on exactly why he disliked the Pride Ring. Well, that was sort of a lie. Fizz imagined it probably had something to do with the sinners. Despite his fame and social status, despite the fact that he was born in Hell, he was still lesser than . Fizz had entertained and done business with some of the highest powers in Hell. Shit he’d even told a Deadly Sin to fuck off.
But sinners intimidated him.
Fizz rolled his shoulders and shook out his mechanical limbs, the familiar clunks a whirs a subconscious comfort. But not as much a comfort as the hulking blue figure sprawled in the limo seat next to him, long legs stretching down the aisle. He snuggled into Oz, burying his whole face into the crushed velvet of his suit and taking a deep, grounding inhale.
Ever since the Mammon incident, Fizz had been able to lean more into his role as the King’s consort (*cough*boyfriend*cough*). With his new and considerably less demanding schedule, he had begun to tag along with Ozzie on his outings to the other rings, acting as a sort of business partner to the Sin of Lust.
Hence why he’d spent the last half hour riding around in a limo staring out at the red-hued sky of Pride and trying not to think too hard about the sinners he would soon encounter.
The car pulled up in front of a massive skyscraper with three Vs emblazoned across the top. The driver opened the door, allowing Ozzie to unfold himself and stand to full height. He took a moment to stretch out the kinks and shake out his feathers. Oz straightened his suit jacket then held a hand out to Fizz. The imp allowed himself to be gracefully pulled free from the relative safety of their vehicle then watched as the driver sat back in his seat and careened off.
Fizz peered up at Oz, a little quirk of his brow asking a question without needing the words. Oz gave a subtle nod and the jester grinned, letting loose a raspy cackle and extending his motorized legs to bend and bounce his way up to the Sin’s shoulder where he took his perch.
“Let’s go watch some porn!” Fizz proclaimed, clapping his hands together and plastering a clownish smile on his face. He pointed onward and kicked a heel against Oz’s shoulder as if spurring on a horse. When all else failed, bravado helped.
***
The porn studio was…nice. The set that the staff guided them to was simply furnished. A huge four poster bed made up with plush pink blankets and stacked with lavish overstuffed pillows stood on a raised platform. Lewd pictures dotted the wall, each one accentuated by strategically placed spotlights. An array of straps and cuffs dangled from each post of the bed, ready to be used when the need arose.
But it wasn’t the bed or its adornments that caught Fizz’s attention.
It was the tuft of white hair that bobbed amongst a throng of sweating, undulating bodies. The wild dart of panicked mismatched eyes before pleasure(?) rolled them back. Four long arms pinned by hands and knees while two equally long, booted legs kicked and thrashed against the assault of a frighteningly large toy being thrust in his hole. Amid the squelching of the toy and the heavy breathing of four of the five bodies writhing on the bed, a high pitched keen wailed around a ball gag fastened tightly in a gold-toothed mouth.
“Enjoying the show?”
The sickly sweet croon startled Fizz, sending an unpleasant shiver through his body from horns to tail. A tall, red-robed figure approached them, long stemmed cigarette dangling loosely in slender fingers. Fizz felt Oz tense beside him and he couldn’t help but notice the way he subtly shifted a leg, gently nudging Fizz behind him. This guy was bad news.
“What the fuck is this Valentino? Are you shooting a porno or a fucking snuff film?”
The overlord in front of them chuckled, unfazed by Oz’s tone. His face split into a wide, pink, sharp-toothed grin, his singular golden tooth glinting in the spotlights.
“Oh come now. Angel is just fine. It’ll take much more than that to break him .”
Fizz peeked around Oz’s leg at the gang bang happening on camera. The familiar sound of climax echoed against the walls, drawing all attention to the bed as a spray of white painted the pink stripe of Angel’s stomach. One of the demons removed the ball gag and the spider grinned seductively.
“Ohhh, fuck me harder Daddy!” He keened, spreading his legs wide as another demon took his position to replace the discarded abomination of a toy.
Valentino returned his wicked grin to Oz.
“See? He’s a good boy .” Valentino took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of pink smoke. “Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure Ozzie?”
“It’s Asmodeus.”
“But baby, I thought all your friends called you Ozzie,” Val pouted.
“They do,” Oz deadpanned, all three faces unamused. “You know why I’m here Val. It’s time for your yearly check-in. Or have you forgotten that this studio only operates under my jurisdiction?”
Fizz caught the twitch to Valentino’s eye and the curl of his lip into a crooked sneer that made him look downright murderous. This guy was fucking scary. Fizz thanked whatever higher power would listen that Oz was with him and he wasn’t facing this motherfucker down alone in some alley.
Valentino quickly rearranged his features, slapping on a welcoming, hospitable facade. He opened all four arms wide, gesturing around the studio. “Inspect away your highness .”
Oz’s body tightened again as he fought the urge to flare up at the blatant disrespect, but a gentle pat from Fizz cooled his head.
“Oooh. And who do we have here?” Valentino asked, gesturing to Fizz as if he’d only now noticed him. “You rarely bring company. Is this your new plaything?” Val reached out with gold-tipped fingers and traced a line from Fizz’s forehead down his cheek and under his chin. The claws tightened on his jaw. “Or have you been generous enough to bring me a new star, Ozzie ?”
White hot fire blazed from Oz’s head, his face going sharp and pink as he snatched Valentino’s arm, lifting him from the ground until they were eye to eye. He snarled into the overlord’s face. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Him!”
Fizz could see the temper flare in Valentino’s eyes and the fisting of his hands, but the overlord backed down. Even someone as dangerous and unhinged as him had enough survival instinct to know when to back down against a Deadly Sin. He shrugged the incident off, feigning indifference. Oz dropped him, none too gently, and took a few cleansing breaths to smother his flames. Valentino brushed at his cloak and smoothed the heart-flecked fluff at his neck.
“Cut! Take a break! Your asses better be back in twenty!” Valentino shouted, addressing the filming crew and actors, all of whom had frozen mid-task to watch the drama unfolding before them. He turned back to Oz. “Shall we?”
Oz gestured for Valentino to go on ahead of him, then knelt down to Fizz’s level. He put his hands on the imp’s shoulders, careful not to let the weight strain the mechanical joints.
“Fizzie, I don’t want you anywhere near Valentino. Stay here. We won’t be long.”
Fizz nodded. Quite frankly, he had no desire to be within ten feet of that psychopath any more than necessary himself. So he gladly welcomed the opportunity to hang back. He stole a glance at the spider demon currently shrugging on a robe and striding over to his dressing room.
Besides, there was someone he wanted to talk to.
Fizz watched Oz venture out into the hallway to meet with Valentino, then made his way over to the door he’d seen Angel pass through. He rapped lightly on the wood and waited a moment.
“Come in.” The voice on the other side sounded tired.
Fizz turned the handle and let himself in. Angel was sprawled across the full length of the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes. He looked rough. Fizz could see several bruises already beginning to purple across his chest, neck, and arms.
“What d’ya want? Can’t ya see I’m on my break ?”
“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Looks like your boss was running you pretty hard out there,” Fizz said plainly.
Angel scoffed, taking his arm from his eyes to look in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. He rolled himself off of the couch and stood at his full height, trying to hide a wince as he moved.
“Oh that?” He scoffed again, trying hard to maintain an unbothered facade. “That’s nothin’! Val’s had me doing worse just because it’s a Tuesday . I’m fine . Don’t you know who I am?”
Of course Fizz knew who Angel Dust was. There wasn’t a goddamned soul in Lust who didn’t . Angel was Hell’s prodigal son of porn. The sinner who had done things lewd enough to make Oz blush.
Fizz shrugged. “Just looked unnecessarily rough to me.”
Angel closed the space between them in only three strides and bent down, nearly to a ninety degree angle, to stare Fizz in the eyes, expression hard. He laughed coldly. “And I’m sure Lust’s resident queen would know all about the porn industry. Look sweetheart, we’re in Hell . The people down here get off to some fucked up shit. And if it makes money, then baby I’m down for anything .” Angel rose back up and rolled his hips, flicking his pointed tongue and dragging his hands along his body. For a moment though, Angel allowed his facade to break as he wrapped his arms around himself and looked away.
“I have to be.”
Fizz felt that. All the way to his core.
Angel shooed Fizz out after that. He’d demonstrated enough weakness in front of Ozzie’s “consort” and needed a moment to collect himself before filming started up again.
Fizz’s heart ached for Angel. It was like reliving Mammon all over again. Except Angel had it decidedly worse. Mammon was a piece of shit, but at least Fizz never had to give up his body. Not his real one anyway.
***
Asmodeus and Fizz stepped through a pair of elegant doors into a warmly lit hotel foyer. It was a welcome transition from the harsh spotlights of the porn studio. Off to the side, an excited squeal pierced the air, followed by the sound of pounding feet. All Fizz caught was a streak of red and white as a girl threw herself into Oz’s open arms.
“Uncle Ozzie! I’m so glad you’re finally here!I’ve been waiting all day!”
“CharChar! My little sunshine! How are you doing girl? It’s been way too long.”
Charlie rocked on her heels in Oz’s cupped palms. She ran a hand through her hair to brush it away from her face. A coy blush pinkened her cheeks as she peeked down at a young woman that had emerged from the hallway to observe the commotion.
“Welllll…I have a girlfriend now!” She tapped at Oz excitedly, gesturing for him to let her down. She ran to the young woman, clinging to her arm with one hand and slipping the other around her waist. “This is Vaggie,” she said, presenting the young woman to her uncle. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Oz grinned and gave Vaggie a wave while simultaneously flashing a thumbs up to Charlie. Vaggie raised her hand in her own greeting, a blush rising up on her own grey-hued cheeks.
Brief embarrassing moment over, Charlie switched gears, her boundless energy returning. She threw her arms wide and spun around, gesturing to the foyer around them. “Anyway, this is my hotel! And this-“ she started to dart away to show off something else, but Vaggie caught her by the elbow and gave a soft nudge to her ribs.
“Sweetie…” she gestured to Fizz who had taken up a place behind Oz so as not to interfere with their wholesome family reunion.
“Of course!” Charlie chirped, bounding over to take Fizz’s hands in her own. “You must be Fizzarolli! Uncle Ozzie’s told me so much about you!”
Fizz pitched a questioning eyebrow over Charlie’s shoulder at Oz. He got an unashamed shrug in return. Fizz had known already that Charlie knew of him and he had know that Oz confided in the princess that they were an item. In fact, Charlie was the first to know the true extent of their relationship. Oz trusted her, so he did too. But what else did she know? He felt the bridge of his nose go warm.
“Oh, he has huh? Only good things I hope,” he quipped good-naturedly.
Oz approached the two of them, draping an arm over each of their shoulders. He leaned in close to Fizz, giving a little nuzzle into his cheek. “Only the best Froggie.”
This space was safe. Charlie was safe. So Fizz allowed himself a moment of affection and extended his arms to wrap around Oz’s neck so he could press their foreheads together. From the corner of his eye, Fizz caught a glimpse of Charlie, hands pressed tight against her mouth, an emphatic squeal squeaking through. Their moment passed and Fizz returned his attention to Charlie. As if she couldn’t contain herself any longer, she sprang forward and squeezed Fizz into a hug so tight he wheezed.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She practically shouted into his ear. “Anyways…” Another sweeping gesture to the foyer around them.
“Welcome to my Hazbin Hotel!”
***
Warm welcome and introductions aside, Fizz and Oz spent the night socializing with the hotel residents and staff. Husk was a damn good bartender who could make the best cosmo Fizz had ever tasted. Cherri Bomb was a spitfire who offered her pyrotechnic expertise as a suggestion to give the shows at Ozzie’s club a little more razzle dazzle , though for obvious reasons, Fizz drew the line at actual explosives. Even Lucifer made an appearance, venturing out of his tower to have a drink and reminisce with his old friend.
Fizz enjoyed this atmosphere. He felt at ease. He felt comfortable. Here in the hotel, he could be himself and be in love with Oz without having to worry about prying eyes or paparazzi. He could be a fucking hypocrite and no one here would give a shit. It was actually quite liberating and Fizz allowed himself to let his walls down. If only just for a night.
Fizz was sitting at the bar, animatedly chatting with Niffty and Husk, regaling them with tales from his life as a performer and as Oz’s boyfriend while the hotel staff told him all about life in the hotel and what it was like to fight the latest extermination. As they sat laughing and sharing stories, the front doors swung inward.
Angel slumped in the doorway looking worse for wear. His hair was disheveled, frizzed and sticking out in different places. New bruises mingled with the ones Fizz saw in the studio, now extending down to his belly and thighs. Angel’s eyes drifted first to Ozzie off in the lobby, then to Fizz sitting at the bar. He pressed his head to the doorframe and let loose a long, aggravated groan.
Well, shit.