Work Text:
Sir Pentious had been at it for days. When he got the motivation to work on a big project like this, nothing could tempt him away from his workshop. Any attempts to get him to eat or sleep were usually brushed off, assuming they were acknowledged at all. Matter of fact, only one person could coax more than a grunt and a dismissive hand motion from the snake.
“I don’t suppose my genius inventor can tear himself away from that fancy new thingamajig long enough to have some beignets and cafe au lait?”
Hearing the warm, almost mechanic voice of his beau, Sir Pentious looked up excitedly from his work welding. The snake hung by his tail from a large metal beam, working from the ceiling to reach the top of his latest creation.
“Good morning, Alasstor!” he greeted cheerfully, a warmth rising to his chest when the other laughed in response.
“Good afternoon, my preoccupied compatriot,” Alastor chuckled, “I take it you’ve been toiling away for quite some time. How fortunate for you that I happened to stop by, otherwise who can say when you’d eat again?” He held up a plate of fresh beignets, topped with a generous amount of powdered sugar. In his other hand was a cup of cafe au lait, the steam from the cup wafting up in gentle swirls.
When Sir Pentious smelled the sweet treats and fresh coffee, he sighed in content, forked tongue flicking out and stomach growling eagerly. “I sssuppose a quick break couldn’t hurt,” he said, grinning down at the redhead.
Alastor gave him a triumphant smile, turning to set the plate and cup on the nearby desk. However, when his associate let out a cry of alarm above him, the Radio Demon spun around. The moment he turned he was met with a dark blur of scales and eyes slamming into him from above, nearly knocking him off balance. His eyes widened when he felt something cool and surprisingly soft crash against his cheek.
It didn’t take Sir Pentious long to recover from his fall, squealing with embarrassment as he scrambled off Alastor. He covered his mouth in horror, realizing where his face had landed and what he’d done.
“I-I’m ssso sssorry, Alasstor!” he sputtered, face exploding into a vibrant blush, “I ssslipped from the beam and fell, I assure you I had no intention of k-kissssing your cheek!”
Alastor stood stunned for a moment, a hand slowly rising to touch his cheek. Even his characteristic radio sounds fell silent, and Sir Pentious swallowed with worry. Was Alastor mad at him? Or worse yet, was he disgusted? He hated touch of any kind, Sir Pentious could only imagine how much a kiss would-
“Think nothing of it, old sport!” the Radio Demon quipped, suddenly back to his usual chipper self, “It hardly even counts as a kiss, more of a crash landing really. Now come, the beignets are getting cold and they simply don’t taste the same when they aren’t piping hot!”
Sir Pentious sighed in relief, smiling softly as he accepted the sugary confection Alastor offered him.