#goodguyfitz

Mirage was by no means your favorite map, but the four friends (Fitz, Grizzy, SwaggerSouls, and TobyOnTheTele) queued up with you sure seemed to prefer it. Perhaps because it was so routine, easy kills meant easy win, but holy fuck you were sick of it.

 "Againnn?" You groaned, running a hand over your dry eyes, feeling like they had a layer of sandpaper over them from your overly bright monitor paired with the fact that it was well into 2am. Not that you were so much tired, your vision was just fried from gaming for hours on end.

No matter the map vote hellscape you always managed to have fun with everyone: cracking half-baked jokes, and saying whatever stupid shit came to mind. You didn't even do it for content most of the time, your upload schedule was spotty to say the least, having a habit of getting too lost enjoying the moment to open up OBS and actually hit record. 

"Alright, I'll catch you guys tomorrow. It's far past my bedtime, so fuckin tired, think I'm starting to hallucinate shit". Grizzy joked, causing somewhat of a domino affect. Toby left with him, also starting to feel the late hours catch up to her. Everyone said their goodbyes as both of them exited the party, leaving you with Swagger and Fitz. Not like you minded, out of everyone you were definitely closest to Fitz, having been friends for almost a year now. Swagger on the other hand, you had nothing more to your history than playful banter that stayed within the confines of group conversations. 

"Y'guys down for one more?" Fitz asked, to which Swagger and you agreed without a second thought, determined to get one last win. 

"Promise me you won't vote for that fuck ass map again though, please. I can't take it". You begged, earning a laugh from the pair. 

"Awww come on, how can you hate on such a classic map?" Swagger interjected, clicking the ever-beeping, green, accept button. 

"I'm going to classically end it if you vote for it one more time". 

Fitz dramatically sighed, calling you stubborn, but both ultimately agreed. Thankfully. The good news is no more Mirage, the bad news? You got beat 6-13. "Think we gotta blame this one on you". Fitz joked, although he was probably right, going against a 5-stack on neither of the default maps almost always felt like a mistake, but hey, it was worth it. 

By the time the game had finally finished Fitz was also ready to clock out, 3am was pushing it, even for him. You on the other hand made the fatal mistake of drinking an energy drink a few hours prior, not to mention the less than healthy sleep schedule you curated. It wasn't irregular for you and Swagger to outlast the rest of the group, at this point you'd usually both leave the call and branch off onto some other popular, Singleplayer game Steam had to offer.

Tonight was different, there was a silent hesitation before he interjected; "Do you ever go to bed? With how many Hello Kitty Island Adventure hours you've put in recently I been thinking your sleep schedule maybe worse than mine".  You could hear the smirk in his voice, you wondered if he usually paid attention to your online status. 

"Nah, I usually sit at the computer until my body collapses, Kuromi needs me". 

"Hope that bitch is paying you well, since you've been working so much overtime". 

"She pays me in friendship... and sand dollars". 

"That's it!? Sand dollars??" 

You found yourself giggling at your keyboard, you always did think he was funny, even sometimes wished you were closer. He was one of Fitz best friends, so it only made sense.

"Sounds fuckin stingy to me".  He continued, subconsciously tracing along his mousepad (adhd much?). 

"Yeah, but it's really fun, you should play it!"

"So I can get conned too? no thanks!"

"Okay asshole, what do you enjoy outside of bottom fragging in CS?" 

He gasped, dramatically grabbing his chest as if you could see him; "I don't do that!"

"You want me to pull up the match history?"

"Nah, I think we're good on that one. Instead, you should let me show you this new game". Quickly changing the subject knowing that was an argument he wouldn't be winning. 

As the time passed you became puzzled as to why you didn't become friends sooner, you had the same humor, and apparently a lot in common. Between the nonsensical jokes and lighthearted shit-talking there were moments of genuine bonding. You shared playlists with one another after discovering you had a similar music taste. There were a lot of familiar songs, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't steal more than a few from his selection. 

The last thing you remember was glancing at the clock, surprised it was already 5. The sun would be out soon, but you didn't want to hang up just yet...

You gasped, jumping straight up in your chair, heart pounding, face warm and wet with drool. The sound of you sleepily knocking your mouse off the desk scared you half to death. You cursed under your breath, exhaling a sigh at the window to your right, the way it was so rudely full of sunlight and chirping Song Sparrows. 

To your surprise, Swagger was still on call with you, his little icon staying put on your screen. You almost felt embarrassed unknowingly passing out, but clearly it didn't bother him too much. Correcting your crooked headset you were met with nothing but the sound of gentle snores. Cute. 

In fact, cute was a way you often described his behavior. Its not like he was particularly flirtatious or anything like that, but as time went on you grew to learn that he was sweet. A good friend, good talker, and even better listener. You never ran out of things to talk about, he really enjoyed showing you things, anything really, whether it be a silly meme or a new song he thought you'd like, he was always excited. 

The one on one calls eventually became more routine, even finding yourself occasionally skipping out on group CS nights to spend time together instead. Fitz noticed, even joking that you were trying to steal Swagger from him, but truthfully he enjoyed seeing the two of you get along so well. 

Suddenly you became invested in him responding within a timely manner or meeting your mental quota of calling you at least a few times throughout the week. Turns out there was nothing to worry about though because he always did. You wanted to meet him, or really all the Australian colleagues you gathered from all the way from The States. Luckily, Fitz provided you a solution, which happened to be an invitation to the upcoming Misfits party. 

You missed the last one and it crushed you, watching everyone's Instagram story that night with bitter disappointment and jealousy. You weren't in a good place to up and fly out the country before, but this time around you were free as a bird. 

When the long awaited flight rolled around you were so high strung with excitement that for the first couple hours you entirely forgot to read the book you packed. Just staring out the window, daydreaming about your soon-to-be overseas trip. What to wear, where to visit, how meeting your friends would be. It was all equally nerve-wracking and thrilling, so much so that by the time you snapped out of your fantasies you were due for a nap. 

As soon as you landed you went to text Fitz, stretching your never-stiffer neck as you typed:

You: Made it !!

Fitz: Nice, already at door 3. wya

You: Yeah idk I'm not seeing any signs hold on

Fitz: None??? I think there's more navigation boards than people in here holy shit

You: Ok ok got it. I'm at gate 1 but I still gotta get my luggage. Meet me there?

Fitz: Si

It wasn't hard to pick his freakishly tall ass out of the crowd, convenient thing about being far above average height. He was too tunnel-visioned ahead of him to notice you in front of him, tugging the arm of his hoodie, clearly catching him off guard.

"Fucking hell, you scared me!" He laughed, pulling you into a welcoming hug, you found yourself squished against his chest, cheek pressed to the soft cotton material. 

"Didn't mean to! I called your name like twice". 

He was admittedly a good hugger; warm, gentle, smelling like fresh linen and weed. Finally  letting you go, he moved to your side instead. "So is this the carousel that has your luggage or is it the next one over?" He asked, pointing into the distance.

"I think this is the one".

"Well I hope you think right or we're going to be staring at this thing for a long fucking time". 

There was no anxiety or looming awkwardness that so often happened when meeting someone you only knew from previously of behind a screen. It was nice, he was nice. In person he was lower energy, not in a bad way, but just in the sense of no longer putting on a show. Relaxed. He was considerate and patient, carrying your overpacked suitcases without hesitation. He didn't get angry when the traffic closed in, only tapping his slender fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song. You liked that, he felt safe. 

***

"Y'know you could've just stayed with us, we have an extra room. Just some office shit in there nobody uses". He reminded you, carrying your bags into your hotel room. 

"And be surrounded by boys for a week? You must want me to suffer".

"Hey! Tobi is there, that's gotta count for something".

"Still outnumbered". 

"You suck". He let out an exaggerated groan throwing his head back, what a drama queen. In all honesty you just didn't want to intrude on anyone's personal space, plus you already bought out this room in advance. You planned to hang with them every day of the week, but sleeping there was perhaps a bridge too far.

"I know, I know... you gonna stick around for a while or you busy?" You asked, watching him linger in front of the doorframe. 

"Nah, can't. We all procrastinated getting shit ready for the party tomorrow and now we're running behind. You're welcome to come along though, of course". 

As much as you'd love running around on a disorganized shopping trip off a couple gummies, you declined. You had your own to-do list, needing to unpack your suitcase and take a nice hot shower after the strenuous plane trip. 

Fitz left soon after, hugging you goodbye before leaving you to your evening. You hadn't realized up until now that you entirely forgot to check your phone since boarding the plane. Powering it on you were met with a tinge of disappointment, just social media notifications and a daily reminder, no text from Swagger. Ugh.

You tossed your phone on the bed, diverting your attention to other things such as stripping off your old clothes in the bathroom and turning on the faucet. You tried to ignore the feeling, growing a tad self conscious with your mild obsession towards him. 'Nothing worse than the new, overly clingy friend that treats you like a insecure girlfriend' you sighed yourself. Harsh. 

You didn't want to be perceived as over the top or "too much", but sometimes you found it hard to make new friends throughout adulthood. Sure you had people you could hang out and crack jokes with, but he made you feel closer than that. One of those people you meet and you just know in your heart they're meant to be in your life for a while. It was surely a bond that felt less surface-level, so you wanted to hold onto it. Is that so wrong?

After mentally debating yourself throughout the entirety of your not-so-relaxing shower, you were finally ready to drop it by the time you climbed into the fresh linens. The shackles of doom scrolling had taken its hold on you for god knows how long before you dozed off, and probably for the better. An eventful day awaits you when you wake. 

***

Loud. All you could focus on how loud everything was; the music, the weed, the voices. Last time you saw this many people in one place it was a convention. Fitz and Mason thankfully gave you a ride, sparing you the hassle of finding an Uber. They were so shit at time management the party was already an hour in, not that you minded. Being equally bad at time management, you were barely done gluing your lashes on when they arrived. 

As soon as the three of you cleared the entry Fitz immediately seemed to lose focus, being pulled into an unforeseen interaction that left you and Mason to traverse the crowd alone. "That fucker...c'mon I'll take y'to the kitchen. Getcha a drink".

Fitz was quickly being replaced on your friend tier list, as Mason drug you through the crowd by hand, until you finally reached a clearing. The whole building wasn't as packed, the concentration of party goers was just obnoxiously high towards the front door. The kitchen was much more easygoing, a granite island marking the center of the room, people outlining most of space, leaning against the counters, conversing. 

"Sooo, most drinks are here, but I'm sure by now drunk cunts have moved bottles all over the place. Against that back wall there's a table with other fun shit on it, eddies and snacks. Try not to get them confused, we don't want another 400mg mistake". He chuckled, pointing across the room where you could almost make out a large, grey, plastic table. 

"400mg mistake?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning your hip against the cool wood of the island. 

"Yeaaa, just read the labels really good and you'll be fine. Tequila?" Mason was always such high energy, you found it impressive in a way. He unscrewed the top, removing two red solo cups from the tall stack. 

"Okay got it, and yes please".

You watched as he poured both cups, flinching from the sudden hand on you shoulder. You turned to see Fitz once again facing you, this time with Swagger under his arm. Your face begin to heat up, truthfully riddled with nerves as your eyes met his. It's ironic to call him a familiar face considering the balaclava only allowed so much, but those eyes were unforgettable. Amber irises eclipsed by blown pupils and thick, long eyelashes. You could tell he was already long past the point of sobriety, a ditzy grin hidden under his mask. 

"Woah, didn't mean to scare you. Mason got you a drink yet?"

"Working on it, cunt. Where'dya go? Y'disappeared before we fully made it through the door". Mason handed you a double-shot worth of clear liquid, cheers-ing your cups before you mirrored each other, downing the bitter liquid. You winced as it burned the back of your throat, trailing fire all the way down to your belly, maybe you should've ate before you came. 

"Was just looking for Swags, you miss me or something? Haven't even been gone 5 minutes". 

Both Swagger and you remained fairly quiet, not directly addressing each other once, only occasionally adding to the general conversation. All four of you took a collective shot before dispersing. You brushed off your frustration with Swagger unable to place why exactly he seemed to be ignoring you after talking to you nightly for so long it became routine. Nothing about him seemed shy, a social butterfly to everyone but you. 

You glared across the room as he took pictures with some Instagram model you didn't recognize, his hand casually slung around her waist. Something about it rubbed you the wrong way, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it left behind welts. Surely you just felt abandoned, not jealous, why would you be jealous? It's not like you were particularly insecure, especially not tonight. You looked undoubtedly hot, perfecting your makeup and buying an outfit just for the event. Unfortunately, even the new miniskirt didn't seem to have you winning any points were it counted. 

So you did what you had to... get super fucked up, of course. The liquor started going down like water the more you drank, or maybe it was the fruity-pebble edible you took half an hour ago finally starting to do its job. Either way, you felt magnificent, and overly friendly, complimenting every other woman you saw. You weren't at the point of losing your balance, but one more sip could easily change that. 

Typically you weren't the biggest dancer, but tonight your feet were fueled by substances and resentment. At this point you were unsure how much time had passed, but clearly enough for Fitz to have met you at your level. He approached, weaving through the crowd with a smile bigger than necessary, cheesing like you were his favorite person in the world. 

"Been looking for you, you having fun?" He instinctually fell into lazily dancing with you, even grabbing your hand to twirl you. You giggled, accidentally stumbling into his chest, suddenly his hugs were even better, holding you against him for a second before releasing. 

"So much, are you?"

"Mhm, so much". He repeated back to you, moving a strand of hair from your face. As he looked down at you, a *great* idea entered your intoxicated mind, what if you could somehow gain your friend's attention by dancing on his bestfriend? Debatably pathetic, and selfish to use someone like that, but those were sober thoughts reserved for tomorrow. 

It wasn't entirely using him, he did look insanely good under this lighting, messy blonde hair, untrimmed stubble, not to mention the intimidating height difference always did make you blush. Your eyes seemed to lose frame rate, unable to recall making the conscious decision to turn around, grinding the backside of your body against him. He didn't mind at all. Long, slender hands immediately fell comfortable wrapped around you. His touch felt warm and yet all wrong, a pit forming in your stomach made up of excitement and nervousness. The type of anxiety dogs carry after chewing up your favorite slippers, cowering and waiting to be scolded, while simultaneously perversely satisfied. 

"You're way too drunk to be on me like this". He leaned down to speak in your ear, you could hear the smile in his tone, almost as strong as the smell of spirits on his breath. He was smug, trying to sound like he was the responsible one here, the cautious one in control, as if his words weren't slurring together too. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, lacing you fingers atop his, hoping he wasn't planning on stopping this. And luckily Fitz didn't, he wouldn't ever. Swagger on the other hand, yeah, he absolutely would. The masked man popped within your vision, gripping the hand that once caressed his friend's. Fitz didn't seemed bothered, still holding you against him without a care in the world. "Hey Swags, wassup?" He almost seemed amused, looking down at the frustrated expression across his face, thick eyebrows knitted together. 

Swagger entirely ignored him, facing all his focus on you, finally. Both of your clueless smirks only infuriated him more; "C'mon I need to talk to you". He looked as serious as ever which only drew another laugh from you as you allowed him to pull you away from Cam. 

"Where are we goinggg- fuck, we're m-moving fast". You felt as if he was maneuvering you through the crowd at an impressive speed, dragging you all the way upstairs, into a vacant bathroom. Only releasing your wrist once the door shut behind the two of you. You casually leaned back against the edge of the sink watching as he looked around the room, seemingly anywhere but your face as he reached under his balaclava, pulling it off in one swift motion, and ruffling his hair.  He cursed under his breath, scratching at the side of his beard, unable to sit still.

He was bursting at the seams with disorientation, unsure of why he brought you here or what to say. Every time he caught your gaze he felt his heart pound harder, he couldn't shake the fear that you were watching him with contempt, burning a hole through him with a judging glare. Truthfully you were just standing there with big puppy-dog eyes and a silly smile, brain swirling with no thoughts other than "wowhessopretty".

"What was that?" He asked, not sounding particularly angry, although he was thoroughly bitter. 

"What was wha?" 

"You fucking with Cam now?"

"Uhhh, I don't think so... why? Wait, did you really bring me allll the way up here to ask me about Fitz, why didn't you just ask him?" Your smile faltered a hair, admittedly still unable to grasp the tone of this conversation. It just all seemed like a joke to you, unable to imagine a guy usually so laid back genuinely being this bothered. 

"Because I wanted to hear it from you, not him". 

"Okay, you haven't seemed like you want to hear from me all night". You laughed dryly, scooting back on the counter top, legs dangling as you made yourself comfortable. 

"Of course I want to hear from you, why would you even think that?"

"You haven't said anything to me at all, not even a 'hi'. Zero texts since I've landed, nothing. And now you want to interrogate me about Cam, what is your problem?" You felt your cheeks heat up, not with a flirty blush, but growing animosity flushed your veins. Seriously, what was his fucking issue?

"You". 

"Me!?"

"Yes, you! You are my issue".

"I didn't even do anything!" You defended, talking with your hands more than usual before you defensively crossed them over your chest. Exhaling a sharp breath, you considered hopping off the sink and pushing past him to return to the welcoming embrace of the party, but you hesitated, being anchored to the marble by curiosity. 

"That's the problem, you don't have to, you don't have to do anything, and you'd still be at the front of my mind". He rubbed a hand over his face in frustration, beginning to sound more defeated than anything. 

"I don't care how much you think about me if it means you wont even talk to me... I was really excited to meet you, I thought we were actually friends. Not like the ones you only call to record with. I liked getting to know you".

"We are friends, I'm sorry". 

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

He extended a hand to you that you instinctively took; "I shouldn't have dragged you away from your friends, it was selfish, so I'm sorry about that too. Let me take you back down there". 

You recoiled your grasp, feeling even more frustrated and confused by his attempt to return to the party like nothing happened. "I don't want to go back, I want to talk. You brought me up here, so now you finish what you started". You were sure you sounded like a spoiled child, pouting over not getting your way.

"Okay okay... I didn't just *not* talk to you on purpose, I wanted to, swear I did".

"But you didn't because...?"

"Because I didn't want to make a bad first impression, nobody wants to meet someone like you for the first time while they're shitfaced. It's not a good look". 

"You're either a huge asshole or really bad at explaining because what the fuck do you mean someone like me?"

Now it was his turn to chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Y'know, just special".

"Y-you ignore me because I am 'special'? God, this conversation is making me want to end it, holy fuck". 

He couldn't help but snicker at your comment, and you soon followed suit. "No no no, I- you are special to me because I uh, I have feelings for you. Makes me sound fuckin stupid, I know. I just wanted to be better than a sloppy drunk when I formally introduced myself. It wasn't nothing against you". He shifted his weight from either foot, exhaling like the words leaving his shoulders finally gave him room to breathe.

"That's it?" 

"What do you mean that's it? I poured my heart out to you, what more do you want?" You both laugh at the situation that once felt so tense. You grabbed a fistful of his black hoodie, pulling him towards you into a gentle hug. It was pretty oblivious in retrospect, but you never really considered your feelings toward him as romantic until his confession, suddenly it just made sense. 

his hands were rough, calloused thumb massaging the small of your back while the other hooked around the back of your neck. "I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings". He remained close, squared in between your legs, meeting your gaze, with his hands planted on either side of you. 

"It's okay, the reason was sweet, and I think I'm way too drunk to hold a grudge right now". 

"Wanna smoke to balance it out?"

"Absolutely".

He smiled, nodding and on his way to turn towards the door but you pulled him back without thinking. "Wait". Before he could question it you leaned in close, hesitating no more than a couple inches away from his face. Even alcohol couldn't drown out your nerves right now, hoping you were making the right decision, not moving too fast. He didn't leave you wondering long, breaking the gap and tenderly kissing you. It wasn't teasingly slow nor impatiently fast, his lips moved against yours with a pace that had no destination. It wasn't leading up to ripping your clothes off or getting something more out of it, his only intention was closeness. 

His mouth tasted like citrus vodka and smoke, you began to feel weightless, head spinning with want. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, wondering if you were getting drunker from sucking on his. His hands tightly gripped your hips as he groaned into the kiss, you felt perfect against him, he greedily didn't want to stop, and he could tell you didn't either. 

His hands ghosted up your sides, you expected him to slide your shirt above your head, but instead he cupped the sides of your face. You on the other hand had no bounds, pulling him in closer with one of your legs, your palm under his jacket to feel more of his skin on yours. He pulled away breathless, locking his arms around your waist, gingerly pecking from your jaw to neck. His coarse moustache brushed against you as he left open mouth kisses above your collar bone. Sucking gently to leave no evidence behind, but harsh enough to make you whine. 

Your head was thrown back, blissed out and at his disposal, you needed more. Without warning he pulled away, huffing in what sounded like frustration. "What's wrong?" You asked, hoping you hadn't done anything to upset him. 

"Oh no, nothings wrong. Its just... we should stop ". 

"Why? I don't want to". 

"I know, fuck- I know, I don't either, but it wouldn't be fair to you. Can't fuck you drunk". 

"Don't do that... I want to keep going". 

He holds your chin up to face him, kissing you once again, this time briefly, like if he lingered any longer he wouldn't be able to tell you no. "Then you'll still want to in the morning... c'mon lets go smoke". He smiled, pulling you off the counter before you had a chance to argue. You groaned, but ultimately didn't fight him, keeping hold of his hand as he lead you out of the bathroom.

"What about your mask?" You watched in confusion as he stuffed it in his pocket. 

"Don't need it where we're going".

"And where might that be?" He didn't answer, instead bringing you into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door and walking over to the large window. You didn't question it, but were undoubtedly lost by what he was planning. He pushed it open, climbing out onto the roof before offering both hands to help you do the same. 

"Promise you won't fall?" He chuckled, lifting you over the windowsill. 

"Promise you wont let me".

And he didn't. 

You laid beside each other, backs pressed against the rough shingles, looking up at the star sprinkled sky. You found yourself leaning your head against his shoulder, passing the pre-roll from his pocket back and forth. Your late night conversation felt the same as it always did, cozy and familiar. When the joint was burned down to nothing, but a roach he flicked it away, turning to face you, devoting all of his attention to you as you spoke. 

Oh how he loved to listen to you talk. 

He didn't try to kiss you anymore, but wouldn't ever turn one down. He wanted you to feel safe, not used, and on the off chance the alcohol was blinding you with rose colored glassed, he wanted to respect that and leave you with memories not regrets. Besides, there was always tomorrow. Oh fuck... tomorrow. Weed really did have a weird way of balancing out the liquor, diminishing a bit of the cloudiness, gaining a multitude of inhibitions.