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“There’s no fucking way!”
Fizzarolli is glaring at Blitzø from his spot on the couch, a pillow hugged in his arms. They were in the middle of a movie marathon, though the TV is currently paused, done minutes ago when this argument began. Blitzø is sitting next to him sprawled out, his hoofed feet resting on the coffee table and a soda in his hands. The other imp is grinning.
“Fizz, why would I lie about that?”
“Because you’re a fucking idiot.”
“An idiot who’s had these babies in more pussies than I can count! I’ve got hands-on experience!” Blitzø holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers as he says this, Fizz groaning and smacking the hand down while Blitzø laughs. “I’m serious! I’ve never fingered someone till they came and not had them squirt so obviously every pussy can do it if someone is talented enough.”
He can’t even remember how they got sidetracked this bad but Fizz refuses to let them press play yet. “And I’m saying that’s bullshit! Not everyone can do that! I’ve never squirted, and you’ve fingered me before!”
“If you can even call it that,” Blitzø huffs, waving a hand at Fizz dismissively. “I was a horny teenager, I doubt I even got two fingers in you before creaming my fucking pants. I bet if I did it now you’d be spraying this couch within the next five minutes.”
“You’re insane,” Fizz grumbles, snatching up the remote and hitting the play button hard. He turns his attention back to the movie but he’s not taking a word in, face slowly getting more and more flushed as Blitzø’s words sink in. They’ve been toeing a line for a while now, dipping past friends and into something more without really discussing it between them. They’ve both talked about it with their birds, and between themselves in the vaguest sense possible, but they’ve yet to move past kissing and a few stray gropes.
This wasn’t meant to be anything but a normal sleepover, but fuck, if the idea of Blitzø’s fingers two knuckles deep in Fizz’s cunt hasn’t enticed him. He squeezes his thighs together, hands clutching hard at the pillow in his lap, trying to keep himself from stopping the movie again. When he peeks over Blitzø’s eyes are back on the movie, looking as calm and casual as he had since this conversation began. How is it that Fizz is the one dating the embodiment of Lust yet he feels more flustered over a simple conversation?
Fizz hits pause again and Blitzø looks over, one side of his mouth turned up in a smirk. He knows, doesn’t he? Bastard. Fizz scowls at him before sighing. “What about Stolas? He’s got something else, right?”
“Birdpuss, and I can make that squirt too.” Blitzø looks proud, puffing out his chest and grinning. “I’ll admit it took a couple tries, it’s shaped differently, but I can do it.”
The clown lets himself get lost in a sudden and very vivid daydream of what that looks like for a moment before he returns to reality, hugging the pillow to him tighter. “Well… why hasn’t Ozzie made me squirt before, if any pussy can do it?” That at least knocks that stupid look off Blitzø’s face for a moment.
“I’m sure he could! If he focused on it. And made those fucking grippers he’s got a little smaller. It’s about precision.” Fizz frowns, seriously considering pulling out his phone to ask Oz’s opinion on this supposed fact Blitzø refuses to budge on. But… he could also just get to the bottom of it himself, get a little ‘hands-on’ experience of his own. Instead, he presses the play button again and buries his face half in the pillow to try and hide the dusky flush that’s clinging to his skin.
They get about ten minutes more into the movie before Fizzarolli can’t take it anymore, groaning and shutting the TV off completely, ignoring the yell of indignation he gets from Blitzø because of it. “Fucking come here already,” he grumbles, turning to face Blitzø and shoving the pillow behind him, arms open and inviting. Blitzø stares at him shocked for a moment, before he grins and sets his soda down before crawling into Fizz’s lap, pressing the jester back to lay against the pillow as he kisses him.
Kissing Blitzø has changed a lot since they were teenagers. For one, they both know how to kiss properly now, none of that messy hesitant shit they used to do. Two, Blitzø is no longer afraid to make use of his hands while they do it. Fizz had always been more touchy when they were teenagers, gripping onto the other imp’s horns, or playing with his back spines, while Blitzø would freeze up, hardly able to do more than move his lips when they were in the midst of a makeout session.
That’s definitely no longer the case now. Fizz can feel the assassin’s hands immediately on him, one slipping up the back of Fizz’s shirt, Blitzø’s warm fingers pressing into his skin where he settles his hand on the small of the jester’s back. His other hand slides up Fizz’s thigh, still chaste, fingertips just barely grazing the end of Fizz’s shorts before he continues onward to his hip.
Fizzarolli’s hands find purchase where they always do, one sliding behind Blitzø’s back to thread his fingers between the spines there, the other to the back of his head, cupping it gently. He can’t feel him how he used to, but Blitzø still responds the same way so he’ll keep doing it until he doesn’t. Blitzø sighs into their kiss upon Fizz’s gentle touch, relaxing into him, his body pressing the smaller imp deeper into the plush couch.
His tongue darts out, and Fizz meets it with his own. They taste like the snacks they’ve been eating in place of a real dinner, a mix of savory and sweet that wouldn’t be that appealing normally but right now Fizz can’t get enough. Their tongues tangle and that hand that had settled on his hip slides upwards, pausing just underneath the bottom of Fizz’s shirt. Blitzø pulls away, gaze heavy as he stares down at the imp below him. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” Fizz blurts out before yanking on Blitzø’s horn and pulling him back down before the other imp can tease him for his eagerness. It works, Blitzø groaning as he lets himself be distracted by Fizz’s lips. His hand continues its journey upwards until he reaches the clown’s chest and squeezes one of Fizz’s breasts. Fizz grunts a little, pushing up into his touch, his nipple already starting to harden just from the slight attention it's getting. Blitzø gropes and pinches and squeezes, pulling back and sitting up a bit so he can tug Fizz’s shirt up and look at him. Fizz lets him, his shirt bunching up under his armpits, tits in view. It’s the first time Blitzø has seen them since they were teenagers, not that they’ve changed much since then aside from the splotches of white that break up the red of his natural skin. Blitzø cups both of them, giving a little squeeze before smirking and looking at Fizz’s face.
“You ever think about getting implants?”
Fizz immediately bristles, but before he can go off on Blitzø the imp speaks again. “I mean, imagine getting squeakers put in, your act at Ozzie’s would be unmatched.” He squeezes Fizz’s tits again, making a honking noise as he does for good measure before he bursts into laughter at his own joke.
The jester stares at Blitzø, expressionless, before he groans and rests his head back. “Am I really about to let someone who made a honking boobs joke finger me?” Blitzø merely snorts, sliding back into Fizz’s space, hands sliding back up to his nipples and tweaking them, Fizz’s head popping back up just as Blitzø leans down and recaptures his lips. He plays coy for only a moment before giving in, sighing and sliding his arms around Blitzø’s neck, one hand stretching low until he reaches the other imp’s tail and tugs on it.
It gets the reaction he was hoping for, Blitzø grunting and bucking forward, and the retaliation he was hoping for too, with Blitzø’s focus moving to their next step. One hand starts to slide downwards, trailing slowly until it reaches the hem of Fizz’s shorts. His breath hitches, but Blitzø doesn’t slip his hand in as expected. Instead, he slides it down, palming Fizz with the fabric between them, the clown whimpering in surprise at the first touch before he turns his head away, slapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.
Blitzø isn’t deterred, planting kisses in a trail as he moves his attention to Fizz’s neck. His hand is still pressed to Fizz’s crotch, fingers pressing in against the already dampening fabric as he explores. Why is this getting to him so bad? Fizz feels out of his league, and it’s been a long time since he’s felt that way with anything sexual. He and Asmodeus have brought a third in from time to time but never has anyone flustered him the way Blitzø has.
The assassin mouths at Fizzarolli’s neck, teeth pressing in just enough to make the jester’s body tense in anticipation before he pulls back and suckles at the spot instead. His fingers never stop moving, rubbing at Fizz expertly through his shorts, the imp squirming and grinding down into his touch while still trying to keep quiet. A brush against his clit is enough to pull a choked sound from him and Blitzø pulls back from the love bite he’s surely left against the jester’s white skin to look at his face.
“C’mon Fizz, I thought you’d be bolder than this. I know your rooster wouldn’t let you stay this quiet.”
“Shut up,” Fizz hisses back. He knows Blitzø is right, this isn’t normal for him. He feels like a teenager again, trying to keep quiet while he and Blitzø paw each other through their costumes in the rare free moments they had after a show but before they had to sleep. It’s different, they’re different, but somehow he feels just as nervous as he did then, still a virgin, crushing on Blitzø so hard that the moment the other teen had mentioned wanting to practice kissing he had all but fallen over himself for the chance.
Maybe Blitzø will always make him feel like this. Maybe that’s not a bad thing, just a little embarrassing. He can do this, he can be open here, enjoy himself and Blitzø and all they’re doing together. Fuck it. Fizz winds a hand down and grabs Blitzø’s wrist, stilling the hand between his legs. “Take my clothes off,” he commands with as much confidence as he can muster.
Blitzø’s spines twitch in a way Fizz knows means he’s aroused, the other imp reading Fizz’s expression for any doubts and coming up short. He grabs at the shirt still rucked up under Fizz’s arms, waiting for the clown to slip his arms out, and then he gently tugs it off, careful to not catch it on his cap. Blitzø then hooks his fingers in the hem of Fizz’s shorts and yanks them off, none of the care he’d given to his shirt given there.
“Fuck, Fizz,” the assassin groans, pressing his hand against Fizz’s bare cunt, the clown gasping and bucking up into his touch. “You’re fucking drenched,” he pulls his hand away, showing Fizz the mess he’s already made of it, slick clinging to his fingers until he licks it away, humming in approval at the taste.
Blitzø is still in the pajamas he’d brought over for the sleepover, but Fizz forgets he wanted him to undress too the moment Blitzø’s hand returns to his crotch. His legs snap closed, thighs squeezing around the other imp’s wrist in a desperate attempt to still him as another burst of excited nerves burns through him. Blitzø just chuckles, curling his tail around one of Fizz’s thighs, gripping the other with his free hand, and yanking them open to slip between them so he can’t try and close again.
“You ready to make an even bigger mess?” Blitzø’s thumb brushes over Fizz’s clit, grinning at the immediate jolt the clown makes at his touch. Fizz grips the couch lightly, half sitting up thanks to the pillow behind him. What a sight, to see Blitzø here, between Fizz’s bare thighs, eyeing Fizz up and down like he’s drinking in every last bit of it the same way Fizz is.
“Yeah,” Fizz murmurs, his arousal taking a back seat to his snippiness, eyes locked on the hand hovering above his pussy. “Get those fucking fingers in me already.”
“So pushy,” Blitzø chuckles, but he obeys, fingers pressing in and spreading the clown’s lips, eyes glancing down to take it all in. His crotch was untouched during the blast, the red of his cunt a beacon within the sea of white that took over his thighs and most of his stomach. The fingers slip lower and push in, sliding in with ease. “Fuck,” Blitzø groans, pressing further in and stilling once he’s two knuckles deep. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Fizz is sopping wet, embarrassingly so, he can hear the squelch of Blitzø’s fingers with each slight movement. His entire body feels like it’s burning hot, his upper half tense as he pushes himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Blitzø’s fingers invading him. He’s never seen the other imp this focused, aside from the few times he’s gotten to see him on the job. He’s surprisingly gentle, taking his time as he opens Fizz up.
He can see Blitzø’s dick tenting in his shorts, and the urge to free it is very tempting, but Blitzø doesn’t seem to notice it at all, too focused on Fizz to care about himself. He wonders if this is how he gets with Stolas too, so single-minded on his partner’s pleasure. It’s intoxicating. Ozzie’s the same way, some nights Fizz has to demand him to put his dick in and take part instead of making Fizz fall to pieces with his hands or his mouth over and over. He’d do it until Fizz couldn’t come anymore if he wasn’t stopped, and he has.
It doesn’t take much time until Blitzø can get to two fingers in fully, spreading them out within the confines of the clown’s cunt, ensuring he won’t accidentally hurt Fizz once he truly begins. It’s a gentle sort of pleasure, Fizz lets himself float in it for now because he’s sure it’ll be gone soon, replaced with something much more frantic and intense.
When he’s stretched enough, Blitzø slips his fingers out and licks them clean before pressing two back to the jester’s entrance before he looks up at him with an eager expression. “If you need me to really stop, pinch me anywhere, okay?” Fizz nods, biting his lip as he watches the imp shift his posture slightly. And then it begins.
Blitzø’s fingering method is nothing like Ozzie’s. Where Ozzie is slow, torturously slow, thick fingers filling Fizz up almost as well as his dick does, slow brushes to his g-spot that come secondary to the other attention being lavished on him via Ozzie’s mouth or a toy, Blitzø is fast. Like, weirdly fast. He seeks out Fizz’s g-spot first, and once he’s found it, confirmed by the way Fizz gasps and clenches, he begins his attack on it. The sound of Fizz’s cunt getting fingered is vulgar all on its own, squelches and slick sounds filling the silence with every thrust of Blitzø’s fingers into the clown.
Say what you will about Blitzø, the man has perfected his fingering game. He shifts to three fingers and crooks them so precisely it’s like he’s got a magnet connecting him to Fizz’s g-spot every time he thrusts back in. The rapid contact has Fizz absolutely writhing, pleasure buzzing through him in short bursts almost like Blitzø was using a toy on him but it’s only his fingers. His other hand stays busy too, thumb rubbing against his clit until Fizz moves too much, and then he’s pressing him down, forcing him to stay in place, unable to push away from Blitzø’s fingers like he’d been trying to do to get a chance to breathe.
“Blitzø, please,” Fizz chokes out, hands gripping hard at the couch cushions, desperate for something to help him brace. The pleasure is overwhelming, and the fact that Blitzø is strong enough to hold him in place with one hand is hot enough on its own that it’d have Fizz squirming were he not trying to get a handle on himself. “Gimme a minute, a few seconds, please-” he cuts himself off with a whimper of a moan, hips bucking as Blitzø shifts his hand so he can renew his attention to Fizz’s clit. “Blitzø!”
“You’re doing so good, Fizz.” Oh fuck.
“Just a little bit more, you’re doing so well, so good for me.” Fuck.
Blitzø’s eyes are on Fizz’s, their gazes locked as Fizz stares at him, mouth perpetually open as gasps and moans tumble out of him. Blitzø’s smile is gone, a terribly earnest expression in its place that sends a twinge through the clown that ends at his cunt.
“You’re so wet, Fizz, so fucking sexy. You’re amazing.” The praise, who told him about the fucking praise? Fizzarolli shudders, unable to look away. He can feel the pleasure rising fast, it feels almost scary. It’s different than usual, more urgent. Blitzø shifts a little closer, his thrusts somehow getting even faster. The jester’s eyes are almost shut, staring down at the other imp between his legs through blurring vision.
“Blitzø,” he chokes out when he can, his hips rising off the couch slightly as pressure builds and he finds himself chasing the other’s fingers, desperate to be brought over the edge. “Please, I feel- I-” he can’t find the words, but Blitzø seems to understand anyway, his smile returning softer, hands still focused on bringing Fizz to ruin.
“It’s okay Fizz, just let go, c’mon, be good for me and come. You wanna be good, don’t you?”
Fizzarolli nods desperately, a raspy ‘yes’ sneaking out between stilted moans. The finger on his clit presses down harder, the friction rising. “Then be a good boy and squirt all over me. You can do it, just let it go, you can feel it. Give it to me, Fizz.”
The jester whimpers, eyes shut tight, hips desperately trying to grind down, to catch on to that relief that feels just out of reach. “Blitzø,” he sobs out, eyes wet when he opens them again, his legs trembling. It feels like he’s on the cusp of no orgasm he’s ever had. He’s almost scared he might have to pee, the pressure feels so similar.
And then he’s tumbling over the edge and with the next thrust of Blitzø’s fingers, he’s coming. He tries to scream but it comes out silent, body wracking as Blitzø keeps thrusting in, and Fizz sees for just a moment before it becomes too much that the imp between his legs is getting fucking soaked. He’s squirting, pelvis twitching hard, and as Blitzø pulls his hand out Fizz keeps going.
It’s another few seconds before his body goes limp, Fizz’s eyes shut tight as he drowns in a sea of white-hot pleasure. His chest is heaving, long, drawn-out breaths all he can manage in the haze. Aftershocks sweep through his body every few seconds, shivers that run all the way through him. “Fuck.” It’s been a while since he’s had an orgasm that intense, and probably the only one he’s had drawn out by fingers alone.
It takes another minute before he can finally breathe normally again, eyes slowly blinking open as he stares at the ceiling. He can still feel his lower half twitching every few seconds, his thighs feel like they’ve got pins and needles. It takes far too much effort to raise his head but Fizz does so, looking toward the other end of the couch where Blitzø sits.
The other imp's face is dripping wet and he’s grinning in the most insufferable way possible. He won. Fizz sighs, trying not to smile but it sneaks onto his face despite him. “Okay. I’ll give it to you.”
“I’d say you already did. Gave it to the couch too, and the floor, and the-”
“Are you gonna lord this over me, or are you gonna carry me to the bathroom and go for a double feature?”
Blitzø pauses his bragging, considering for just a moment before his grin returns and he gets up, scooping Fizz into his arms with ease. “Can I bet you that you definitely can’t get me off with just your mouth after?” Fizz snorts, lazily looping his arms around Blitzø as the other imp heads off towards the bathroom.
“You could just ask me to suck your dick like a normal person.”
“Fine. Will you suck my dick?”
“Depends on how well you do in round 2.”
Blitzø groans and Fizz’s responding laugh echoes down the hall.