Chapter Text
Angel was painting his nails (the shade was named petrifying pink) in the lobby, minding his own business, when Alastor approached him.
“My dear Angel Dust --” Alastor began in his usual pompous fashion.
Angel interjected with a salacious grin, pausing in his work so he could leer up at the Radio Demon. “In need of my services?”
“No,” Alastor said firmly, although his perpetual smile didn’t flinch. “I’m here to ask for your help.”
That was unexpected. Angel screwed the cap onto the nail polish, relaxed into the loveseat he’d claimed, and eyed Alastor suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”
“Indeed.”
Angel glanced around the lobby -- it was just him and the Radio Demon. As it was late in the evening, Charlie and Vaggie had retired to their room and Husk had left the hotel, likely to find a bar where gambling wasn’t prohibited. Angel returned to scrutinizing Alastor. “You don’t even like me,” he pointed out.
“Maybe not,” Alastor admitted. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not useful.”
Angel let out a bark of laughter, standing and maneuvering around Alastor -- careful not to touch. Angel could be respectful, despite what some people thought. “How could I be useful to you . Unless you’ve changed your mind and do want me to suck your --”
“You work for Valentino, don’t you?”
Angel froze. “Yeeeeeah,” he replied, turning to face the grinning Radio Demon. He placed both sets of hands on his hips. “What’s it to ya?”
Alastor’s red eyes had that sinister, crackling energy to them. It made Angel’s fur stand on end. “Why, he’s one of my fellow overlords. I like to stay up-to-date with my colleagues.”
Up-to-date…? Angel stared incredulously at Alastor for a moment before he caught on. “You want me to sell out Valentino?” He scowled and whirled around, heading for the door. “No way. I ain’t a fuckin’ idiot. Nice try, hot stuff.”
“Let me know if you reconsider!” Alastor called cheerfully as Angel slammed the door behind him.
~
Dramatically taking his leave through the front door may have been a bit much, but Angel was due back at the studio anyway. Val got pissy when Angel was away for too long, and Angel was definitely toeing the line of ‘too long’. Angel figured he’d be fine as long as he was quiet entering the studio and finding his way to his room.
Despite the familiarity of his actions, Angel’s heart still buzzed in his chest as he unlocked the back door and shut it behind him. In more pleasant situations, Angel would find the threat of discovery thrilling; now, it caused his palms to sweat. He tip-toed through the dim hallways of the back rooms, mindful of his extra limbs.
Finally, his own door was in sight -- the golden plaque adorning it, bearing his name, had a dull shine in the minimal light. Angel released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he grabbed the doorknob, shoving the key into the lock. Made it.
“There you are, Angel Cakes.”
Angel froze at the sound of his pimp’s slippery voice. He turned slowly and met Valentino’s eyes.
Valentino was missing his absurd red coat but seemed even larger without it. Instead, he wore an ominous smile. “What? No hello for Daddy?”
Angel stared at the ground. “Hi, Daddy.” He said quietly.
“That’s better.” Valentino smiled, sugary sweet. He sauntered closer. “I didn’t see you around today.”
Angel felt strange; usually, when he saw Val, the overlord was lounging on a velvet couch, a girl on each arm. Usually, the air was choked with dizzying, sweet smoke. Usually, Val wasn’t towering over him, as he did now -- unless Angel had done something wrong. Angel swallowed. “Maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
Angel heard the slap before he felt it, jerking his head to the side. “Maybe I didn’t,” Valentino hissed, “or maybe you weren’t here. What have I told you, sweetheart?” When Angel didn’t reply quick enough, Valentino seized his face with one hand. “I asked you a question.”
“To stay in the studio,” Angel answered in a rush.
“I’ve been generous,” Valentino continued, roughly releasing Angel, “letting you continue with this hotel bullshit. It’s brought my business publicity. But you seem to be getting a little comfortable there.” He caressed Angel’s cheek in a false paradigm of affection. Angel restrained a shudder. “Don’t forget who you belong to, Angel.”
“I belong to you,” Angel said automatically, without thinking.
Val smiled at him. “Good boy.” Angel briefly thought he was off the hook, but another slap nearly stunned Angel into falling over. He stood hunched over, breathing hard, until Val began walking away.
Angel straightened, finished unlocking his door, and stepped inside. He closed the door and leaned against it, relocking it with a shaking hand.
Jeezus, I fucking hate this place, Angel thought. “I hate it here,” he said out loud, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. It made him feel a little better.
Too tired to shoot up or masturbate, Angel changed into his softest pajamas and went to bed.
~
The next day, Angel didn't dare leave the studio. He threw himself into his work, participating in a few small shoots. Angel truly enjoyed his job. He loved the thrill of power that came from making someone feel good . Flaunting his natural assets in a way he’d never been able to while he was alive brought him savage satisfaction.
Of course, doing what he loved -- being himself -- came with the price of Valentino.
Reminders of the previous night haunted Angel throughout the day. He thought of things he should have done, would have done if he could go back -- kneeing Val in the balls, for example.
Around noon, Angel’s hellphone buzzed. He was on break, moodily inspecting his nails (there was already a chip on one of his left hands) so he didn’t hesitate to check his messages.
Charlie: I didn’t know you were going out today! I hope you’re alright!
Angel prepared himself for the usual flicker of annoyance that came from Charlie’s hovering, but it didn’t come. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was already so frustrated that another irritant didn’t register. Maybe it just felt good that someone cared.
Angel: Don’t worry about me, babe. Won’t be back for a few days tho.
Angel thought for a moment.
Angel: Tell Al I’ve got something for him when I come back <3
Angel’s heart rate picked up for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Up yours, Val.