@infernalight asked: Fizzarolli is just going to slip away while Ozzie was still asleep, quietly slipping out of the room before making his way to the kitchen. Grabbing the whipped cream from the fridge, he hurried back towards the bedroom, quietly slipping back inside. Once he confirmed Ozzie was still sleeping, he moved to squirt the whipped cream in his hand before using one of his stray tail feathers to tickle his face. (Fizzie said: no job = boredom = more pranks around the house) / unprompted, always accepting.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ It's always the unemployed ones in the group.
Suppose luck was on Fizzarolli's side when Ozzie didn't even do so much as stir from his slumber. Not even when the imp kicked off the covers and left the Sin with enough space to roll over and hug the pillow. Blissful sleep.
The rising and falling of his back followed by his light snoring, Ozzie was none the wiser in knowing what trouble lied ahead of him. With one hand tucked under the pillow and the other hanging off the bed, sin of lust barely stirs when his face itched.
Efforts are ignored, at first. With the simple motion of turning his head the other way, Ozzie remains unbothered. Yet with a little persistence from jester, Ozzie stirs once more only to end up — this time — unconsciously taking the bait and raising his hand to scratch his face.
Heavy eyelids blink open, groggy yet alert as he's immediately lifting his head further from the pillow. All along with achy, heavy muscle which protest against Ozzie's abrupt movements. ❝ Wh—? ❞ Whipped cream is all over one side of his face. And Ozzie is oblivious at first — with serious bedhead and a handful of whipped cream, it was truly a sight to behold. He only becomes more awake at the sound of Fizzarolli's laughter, ❝ What's... the? ❞
Even with a half-conscious stupor, Ozzie is able to somewhat piece together that he'd been had. Yet he doesn't know why he reaches for his face again with the same hand that still had a helping of whipped cream. ❝ Fizz— you—? ❞ He's staring at the offending hand, processing, before doing the unexpected and sampling the whipped cream from his fingers. ❝ ...That's fucked. ❞
Despite his commentary and half-awake tone (sounding awfully firm yet dreamy), Ozzie was grinning deviously. Even going the extra mile and finding that burst of energy in himself to swiftly reach out and snatch the jester! Smothering him in what left over whipped cream via hand and aggressively nuzzling the imp's face. An eye for an eye.
