Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Phear, I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

Mugman sighed, resting his face in his hands. It was early in the morning, and Phear Lap drove from the casino to the cup brother’s house, knowing something was wrong. He was right. The skeletal horseman tapped his bony fingertips against the wooden table, a scowl on his face. He wasn’t scowling at his friend, though. He just scowls when he’s thinking, a habit he picked up from his manager. Mugman leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tear-stained cheeks. Phear reached across the table and took one of Mugman’s hands into his own. He had an idea. “Oi, Mugs, call me crazy, but...we ‘ave some spots ‘vail’ble in the casino…”, the green-clad skeleton waited for a response. Mugs looked up at him, confused. Phear Lap continued, “Actually, we’re kinda in dire need of some new employees...I could probably talk to Dice or Luci ‘bouht it. As far as I know, all areas pay more than what you’d get in a month at...whatchamacallit.”

Mugman’s back straightened, considering the offer. He didn’t associate himself with stuff like casinos, but he and his brother were in some deep shit with their bills. Hell, they were less than a week away from having their power cut!…

“If...if you would talk to them about it, I’d be willing to work…”, Mugman mumbled, his head throbbing from lack of sleep. Phear perked up. “You got it, pal. I’ll talk to ‘em ‘bout it first thing tomorrow. Try and get some sleep, too. It looks like your bags have bags.”. Chuckling at his older friend’s comment, Mugman helped the other with his coat and wished him a good night before heading back to his room and crashing on his bed.

♠️♠️♠️

Devil stared holes into his employee, and he was certain King DIce was doing the same. The skeleton horse just sat there, unfazed by the glaring. In fact, he glared back at them with empty eye-sockets. “Phear Lap, have you lost yer damn mind?!”, the dice slammed a hand onto the desk between them. “I lost my mind when I signed that contract...but he’s a good kid. He needs the pay, and that brother of his keeps gettin’ ‘em both fired from e’ry place in Inkwell!, Phear Lap crossed his legs, his deep eye sockets somehow radiated with determination. Dice glanced at Devil for backup, but much to the casino manager’s dismay, Devil’s ears were perked up, listening to Phear. “Boss! You can’t seriously be-!” “Tell me more about this boy, Phear.”.

Dice sputtered and violently stood up, sending his chair flying back. “Are you kidding me?! There ain’t been a mortal workin’ here since…never!”, he protested. Devil glared at the purple manager, who was visibly irate. “You’re dismissed, Dice.”, the deity simply waved the dice-man away. Grumbling defeatedly, the manager slammed the door as he left. “Go on. Tell me more.” “Well, he’s a quick learner, great with people, observant, clever, and if it counts for anything, he’s real eye candy.”, Phear nonchalantly picked at his bony fingertips. “My, Phear, was that a genuine compliment?”, Devil was taken aback. Putting his cigar out, the deity waited for their employee’s response. “I mean it, too. He’s a real cutie. I’d bet that Asmodeous’d be all over him when they see him.”, the skeleton stated matter-of-factly. Devil found this behaviour odd. Whenever Phear talked about someone’s appearance, it was usually a snarky comment or an insult, but never...this. If Phear thought someone attractive, they must be so.

“I’ll think about it. What’s he look like that’s got YOU of all people complimenting him?”, Devil asked. “Why don’t you ask your little mirror buddy over there and see for yourself, boss?”, Phear pointed at the ornate, golden mirror on the office wall. “Tell it to show you Mugman.” “Maybe I will.”, Devil turned to face the golden mirror. The deity said something in some sort of satanic language and the mirror showed a sort of “clip” from Mugman’s day. It was Mugs, of course, dancing with a man that Devil recognized as Captain Brineybeard. They appeared to be in Ribby and Croaks’ place down at Isle 1. Devil watched as the captain spun the mug away and let him take the floor. Mugman bent and swayed to the beat, and when he rolled his hips in a slower part of the song, the crowd around him erupted with whistles and gasps. It was as if he had the whole room hypnotized, watching his every move. As the beat got faster, he beckoned another man over and took his hand, allowing himself to be whisked away by the stranger.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention, he’s an amazing dancer. Real popular around Isles 1 and 3.”, Phear Lap said, staring smugly at his mesmerized boss. “Mhmm…”, Satan couldn’t take his eyes off of the enchanting dancer. The way the mug moved to the beat, with or without a partner, had him completely enraptured. To be fair, Phear didn’t really have a right to speak. Mugman’s fancy footwork was how the two met. The mug had caught his eye—or really, everyone’s eyes—at a gay bar a few years back and they’ve been friends ever since. Truthfully, watching his boss be totally captivated in his friend’s dancing reminds him of how he was when he first saw Mugman. “So, should I call em?”, the skeleton gestured to his boss’s office phone. The mirror slowly faded back to it’s normal reflective state, until it looked like a normal mirro once more. Phear repeated the question. “I’ll do it. What’s his house number?”

♣️♣️♣️

“No way! You are not going in there, I won’t let you! Think about Elder Kettle!”, Cuphead slammed his fists on the dining table. “I know, Cuppy. But we need the money. Plus, I’ve already been hired. No going back now.”, Mugman sipped his coffee, watching his fuming brother. He knew it wasn’t going to go over well with the teacup, but he hadn’t been expecting him to be this mad. “Well, what am I gonna tell Jason?!”, the red twin argued. “You don’t have to tell him anything, because he already knows.”, the blue twin countered. “Ugh, whatever! Just don’t come crying when you lose your soul!”, the shorter boy stormed out of the house and slammed the door. The sound of Cuphead stomping down the porch steps followed. Mugman sighed, looking into his now empty coffee cup. He knew that Elder Kettle had always said to stay away from “that godforsaken gateway to Hell”, but they needed the money and the salary was high and he’s sure Elder Kettle can forgive him for this...right?

Mugs shook his head, the cool smoothie in his head soothing his worries. He had no time to worry about it. He had to go to the casino and talk more about the details of his job before opening time. Phear had come by after that work day and told him that he would meet him at their spot at the downtown cafe and drive him from there. He wasn’t sure about uniforms, so Mugs took his time picking out something nice. He chose a pastel blue cardigan that was cropped at his waist. It had a deep portrait neckline, which framed his pale collarbones quite nicely and showed a bit of his shoulders. He chose a simple white off-the-shoulder long-sleeve as an undershirt and pulled on a flattering pair of black dress pants and put his favorite light blue high-tops on before grabbing his house keys and leaving for the cafe.

♠️♠️♠️

“Did I tell you that you look real good, Mugsy?”, Phear Lap stared at Mugs, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his car. The mug sighed in annoyance. “I get it, I look good. Now stop sayin’ it!”, a light blue blush settled on Mugs’ cheeks. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re flustered.”. The car came to a stop. “We’re here.”, Phear Lap announced, getting out of the car. Mugman followed suit and together, they made their way inside.

The inside was huge, and it seemed even more so when there’s barely anyone in it. There was a group of whom Mugman assumed were employees. A cigar, a rabbit, an 8-ball, and a dice. The 8-ball looked up and gasped. “Phear, who’s your friend?!”, they pointed at Mugman. The others at the table looked up. “This is our newest coworker, his name is Mugman.”, the skeleton pointed at the mug. Mugs waved and smiled at the group, “Hi!”. The 8-ball raced - or, well, flew - over and introduced himself as Mangosteen. The cigar looked the mug up and down. “Well ain’t you a pretty little thing...my name’s Wheezy.” Mugman giggled under his breath and looked down at his feet, flustered. The rabbit stood up and hopped over, examining the mug closer. “Hopus, ease up, he’s gonna turn blue forever!’, Mangs chuckled, pointing at Mugsy’s blue face. “Mm, he’s re-ee-ee-eal cute! I like ‘em! My name is Hopus! Hopus Pocus!”, the rabbit bounced on his heels, visibly excited by the new coworker.

“Well, you should head to the boss’s office.”, Dice shuffled his cards idly. “Oh, yeah. Lets go, Mugs.”, Phear took Mugman’s free hand - the other hand was being held by Mangs, who was tryin to get him to play poker with them - and pulled him away from his two hyper coworkers and. The walk to the Devil’s office was relatively quiet, Mugman following Phear and paying attention to which turns they took while Phear Lap navigated the casino like he lived there. “If you ever get lost, just look for an imp or demon and ask the way back.”, Phear Lap informed the blue mug as they reached the bottom of some stairs. There was a looming, black and gold door that Mugman guessed was his new boss’s office. Without knocking, Phear threw the door open and pulled Mugman in with him.

“I brought you some eye candy!”, Phear Lap announced, releasing his hold on Mugman’s arm. The mug glared at Phear Lap, his face turning a deep blue. “Phear!”, he hissed through gritted teeth. “Oh, my bad, Mugsy. I brought you your new employee.”, Phear wrapped an arm around Mugman’s shoulders. Mugman looked at the ground, trying to hide his flushed face. “Good. You’re dismissed, Phear.”, Devil waved the skeleton away. The sound of the door opening and closing behind Mugman made him look up at the furry deity. Golden eyes examined the mug closely, burning holes through him. Mugman shifted on his feet, waiting for some kind of reaction from the other. “Well well well, if you ain’t that Mugman that Phear was talkin’ ‘bout.”, the deity licked his lips. “I see what he meant by eye candy.” Watching the mug’s face burn navy blue delighted the Devil. “Anyways, take a seat. There’s much to discuss.”, the Devil waved a chair into existence. Mugs took a seat without question.

♣️♣️♣️

“So, what’d he make you?”, Phear Lap beckoned Mugman over to the craps table. Other employees had arrived at the casino, and a couple of them were craning their heads to get a better look at their new coworker. The skeleton horse was playing with a stack of poker chips, a few red- and purple-skinned demons, four skeletons, a whiskey decanter, and conjoined dominoes. “Dancer.”, the mug shrugged nonchalantly. Dancing in front of crowds didn’t scare him in the slightest; he’d done it plenty of times. “Makes sense. ‘Suppose Dice or Piroulletta’ll show you ‘round backstage.”, Phear Lap grinned as Mugman approached. “Ooo, is this the Mugman character you were talking about?”, the female domino asked. “Yes, that’s me! Nice to meet ya.”, Mugsy replied politely. “I’m Pip.“ ”I’m Dot!”, The dominoes spoke over each other. “Rumulus.”, the whiskey decanter introduced himself.

Before Mugman could even open his mouth, a hand was brought down on his shoulder. “There you are! C’mon, I gotta show ya ‘round backstage.”, the dice scowled. “Don’t be a dick, King.”, Rumulus rolled his red eyes. “Shut yer trap, Scotch.”

Chapter Text

“…and that’s that. Feel free to do whateva, this is yer room.”

Mugman only moved when he was sure King Dice had left. King was no laughing matter; he could tell by the way he searched for things to be mad about. He had yelled at a few imps for being in his way, when they had just been standing in the corner minding their business. The first thing Mugman did was look in his private rehearsal room. Apparently, every performer had one. One of the walls was just a mirror, and another had shelves and a clock. On the shelves was a radio that was just playing static. Mugman closed the door and turned back to his dressing room. It was much more decorated, but still considerably barren. He opened the closet and found clothes and shoes that were all his size. Mugman had a feeling this was the work of his boss, so he didn’t question it. Taking his blazer off, he hung it up on a coat rack and decided to spend some time warming up before the band got to his room. Dice had told him that they were a jazz group from out of Inkwell.

The rest of the evening went by pretty quickly. The band showed up not too soon after he had begun warming up, and they had gotten along pretty well. The trumpeter was a tall, lanky dalmatian named Darijo. Their drummer, who basically started the whole group, was a slim, black labrador named Perry who is Mugman’s height. They never specified any pronouns for themselves, but Jane, the short yorkie pianist, said Perry went by they/them. They waited out in the backstage area for Pirouletta to finish her routine. “Oi, Mugsy! Are you up next?”, Hopus came hopping up to the dancer. Mugman hummed in confirmation, not looking away from the mirror. He was redoing his eyeshadow for the umpteenth time. “Eek! I can’t wait! Mangs and I will be watchin’ ya from the tables!”, the rabbit spoke very fast. “Mugman! You’re on in 5! You three — Yes, you three…not you three, those three! The dogs! — Yeah, go ahead and get yerselves ready!”, an imp yelled from above. “Good luck!”, Hopus scuttled down the backstage stairs, presumably to go get Mangosteen. The band nodded and hurried off to their places. “Nervous?”, Pip asked Mugman while he used the mug’s shoulder for balance. Dot pulled her mouth into a tight line. “Not very. You two?” “Oh, I’m a mess.”, Dot sighed. Pip groaned. “She’s been like this for hours, Mugs. Ya shouldn’t worry ‘bout us, anyways. You’ve got a crowd o’ people wanting to see ya and the band.”, the man faceplanted into Mugman’s side and struggled to push himself upright as his conjoined sister squirmed in their chair.

“You mean just the band…right?”, the mug asked. He didn’t think people were waiting to see him; after all, it was his first night and the only people who knew he worked here now were his inner circle of friends. “Oh, no. Most of them are here for you! Guess someone heard about it and it jus’ spread like wildfire.”, Dot’s voice shook with anxiety. “Oh, I bet it was Rumor. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, but she jus’ can’t keep her mouth shut.”, Mugman sighed and stood. “I’ve gotta go, or they’ll start without me.” “Break a leg, Mugsy!” “Good luck!”, the dominoes called out after him.

♠️♠️♠️

Phear Lap watched another person — this one was at a craps table — forfeit their game to go watch Mugman up close. His flabbergasted manager sat next to him, glancing wildly from the man who just forfeited and the stage. “Phear, what kind of hellish curse is this? He’s got the whole casino droolin’ ova him!”, King Dice downed another shot and slammed it on the bar angrily. “Heh, I don’ think the kid’s even ‘alfway through the routine yet, Dice. Lighten up a little, he’s prob’ly bringing in more money tonight then the rest o’ us combined.”, the skeleton horse gestured to himself and the other employees, especially Rumulus, who was pouring himself a drink behind the bar. He always got nice tips for his bartending tricks. “Yea..He sure does have a nice pair o’ hips, don’t he?”, the whiskey bottle slurred, swaying weakly on his feet. “Rumulus, are ya drunk already? Where’s your sister?!”, Dice busied himself with the bartender’s current state of drunkenness. Phear Lap turned to the stage, watching his friend. Hopus and Mangosteen were sitting right up next to the stage, just as charmed by the mug’s dancing as the rest of the crowd was. Mangs mouth hung open in awe while Hopus cheered and whistled enthusiastically.

Mugman spun around and held a hand out to the band’s trumpeter when the pianist hit a resonating low chord. The dalmation set his trumpet down on a stool next to him and excitedly took the mug’s hand. The crowd burst into wild applause as the trumpeter and Mugman danced across the stage while the piano played a soft and low solo. The dalmatian dipped the mug down at the lower notes and pulled him closer at the pauses, creating a sort of sexual/romantic tension between the two. When the drummer began to hit the cymbals on their drum set, leading the pianist out of her solo, Mugman playfully pushed the trumpeter away and gestured at his instrument. The tall man picked his trumpet back up and began playing once more while Mugman seamlessly went back to dancing solo.

Phear Lap was very, very happy. Mugman looked like he was having the time of his life up on stage. The band was good, too; keeping up with Mugman’s energy was no simple task. Especially that dalmatian; he was fairly sure that wasn’t planned, considering the surprised look on both the pianist and the drummer’s faces. Even the trumpeter looked surprised when Mugman offered him his hand. The crowd loved it — they loved him — gasping and whistling and hollering at all the right moments. The skeleton horse turned his gaze over to Wheezy and Chips, who were playing billiards since their tables were empty. The cowboy sighed dreamily, watching the mug. “I wish that was me up t’ere wit’ ‘em…”, Chips grinned, lost in his daydream. Wheezy stood next to him, trying to get his attention. The cigar eventually threw his hands up in defeat and decided to just watch the dancer with Chips. A little bit to the right of the stage, Phear could see a red-skinned demon watching intently with heart-shaped pupils. A pair of identical humans squealed when Mugman winked at them. A purple imp, which was barely visible behind the velvet curtains, crouched on top of the stage lights; undoubtedly making sure that the crowd didn’t try anything. Or was it just watching Mugman? Phear Lap didn’t know. But then again, no one really did when it came to the imps. What he did know, however, was that he was going to have to meet the mug backstage to celebrate his success.

♣️♣️♣️

“Mugsy! That was great! Where’d ya learn to dance like that?”, Mangs hovered next to Mugman at the bar. The casino had closed about 10 minutes ago, and the Tipsy Troop was passing drinks down the bar for their coworkers. “Thank you, Mangs. I’m self-taught.”, Mugman sipped his gin. Phear Lap grinned and stood from his stool. “I’ll be in the break room. Come get me when yer ready to leave.”, the skeleton dismissed himself. “What I think ya ain’t realising is that ya had the whole casino in a trance; no doubt tomorrow’ll be much, much more busier.”, Ginnette, a martini glass, folded her arms and smirked. “Oh my...", Mugsy mumbled something else under his breath, finishing his gin. Ginette took the glass and began refilling it. “Oh, hey boss! Need somethin’?”, Mangs asked cheerfully. The Devil stood indifferent behind Mugman. “So, I heard you had a good night.”, Satan casually slipped into the stool where Phear Lap was just seated. “Why are ya lookin’ at me like that? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”, Mugman’s suspicious nature took control of him for a moment. The deity laughed at the accusation. “No, no! You made quite a bit o’ money, sweetheart...”, Mugs flushed a little, but Devil continued, “I believe that you’ll be on that stage again tomorrow.”

Ginette slid the glass back to Mugman and smiled before turning around to make the Devil a drink. Mangs dismissed himself and left for the backstage area to hang out with Hopus and Chips. Mugman and Devil discussed what percent of the show would go to Mugs (the band had already taken their percent of the routine), settling on a solid 32%. Dice seethed in his office next door when the two headed back to the boss’s office to pay the performer. An imp helped Mugman find his way to the break room.

“Ready to go, Mugs?”, the skeleton stood. “Yup. Cuphead’ll kill me if I don’t get home by 3.”, Mugman pulled his mouth into a firm line, remembering his argument with his brother before work. He had been so happy and caught up in dancing, he had completely forgotten about his twin. Phear Lap wrapped an arm around the mug comfortingly. “C’mon, let’s get movin’, Mugsy. Yer prob’ly exhausted from dancin’.”, the skeleton kept their arm wrapped around Mugman all the way to the car.

♠️♠️♠️

Mugman grunted softly as he laid his brother down on his bed. When he had gotten home, he found Cuphead asleep on the couch, presumably fallen asleep while waiting for him to get home. Smiling gently, Mugman turned off the light and closed the door. He could not wait to go to bed. Opening the door to his own room however, he had to stop himself from shouting out in surprise. There was an imp perched on his desk. The imp trilled quietly and slinked into the shadows. Mugman rubbed his eyes harshly and stared at the shadows where the imp had seemingly disappeared. Not spotting any movement in the dark, Mugman gave up. “Maybe I’m just hallucinating.” Mugman wouldn’t be surprised. He did rarely sleep, afterall. Without another thought, the mug trudged to his bathroom to get ready for bed.

Once the mug was in the other room, the imp scrambled up the wall. It huffed angrily as it carefully positioned itself on the light fixture. It didn’t ask questions when the boss had asked it to watch Mugman, but now it regretted offering to do this. It felt wrong, watching the mug sleep. But what could it do? It already agreed to watch him. Just as the imp was about to move again (the fixture was uncomfortable and bulky; it kept stabbing it at random times), the door opened.

Cuphead carefully entered Mugman’s room, being mindful of the creaky floorboards towards the bed and door. He knew that since he had fallen asleep on the couch and woken up in his bed that Mugman had come home and carried him to his room. The teacup sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, watching his twin sleep soundly. When Cuphead had gotten to his own work, he had felt alone and anxious, whereas when Mugman was with him, he felt energetic and happy. He hoped his brother would forgive him for snapping at him that morning. He really didn’t want his brother anywhere near the casino, but that was because Elder Kettle had always talked about the casino in a negative light. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as Elder Kettle always told them? Sighing, Cuphead stood from the bed and cringed at the loud creak of both the floorboards and the boxspring. After he was sure Mugman hadn’t woken up, he snuck out the room and slipped back into his own.

The imp stayed dead still through all of this, holding its tail with a death grip to keep it from swaying. It couldn’t read minds like some upper-class demons and its boss could, but it could feel the emotions coming from the teacup; strong guilt and sadness with a dash of anxiety. The blue-skinned imp let go of its tail and shook it gently, getting the blood to pump once more. The question (for now) wasn’t what happened between the brothers, but if it should tell the Devil about it. Mugman still had his soul, so the Devil couldn’t force him to talk about his private life. Even then, the imps didn’t have to report things if they deemed it unnecessary. Scowling, the imp stealthily leaped from the light down to the bed’s headboard. The mug slept peacefully, unaware of the small creature watching him intently. Curiously, the hellish being nudged closer to the unconscious mug. The content, cozy aura washed over it in waves. It was much different then being at the casino, where it was constantly bombarded with anger and lust and greed and panic and pride and all those strong feelings that made it feel sick to its stomach. The imp decided to savor the calming aura and slipped between the headboard and the wall, pulling itself underneath the bed and curling up directly beneath Mugman.

The imp stayed there for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

“What’s all this?”

The dining table was covered in food; plates of pancakes, sausages, bacon—and bowls of assorted fruits, and scrambled eggs. There was a pitcher of orange juice, a container of powdered sugar, and a bottle of syrup to the side. Sitting down, Mugman saw the note propped up against the fruit bowl.

‘Sorry I’m not here for breakfast, I have an early shift today. I went to wake you up so we could eat together, but you wouldn’t budge. Anyways, this is all for you! Enjoy!’
‘PS I know you’re worried about if I ate or not, but I did =)’

While Mugman began plating his food, the imp in his room was struggling. Hissing, the imp tried to open the window. It had fallen asleep under the bed and was late for report. Cursing under its breath, it gave up the fight with the window and looked around for another escape route. The door was ever-so-slightly open, maybe it could slip through the crack? No, that’s too risky. It didn’t know if Mugman could see down the hall where he was in the other room. It could go through the vents, but the vent covering was so old the imp was convinced it must be stuck closed. Looking in the bathroom (Mugman didn’t close the door when he came out that morning), there was another vent that didn’t look half as old as the first one. Problem was, it was on the ceiling. Sure, it could climb up and unscrew the covering, but what if the vent cover fell to the tiled floor?

It could wait for Mugman to come back and slip out the door, but who knows when that would be? It was late already. Deciding to risk it, the blue imp opened the door enough to peek its head out. The first thing it noticed was the open door across the hall. The lights were off in the room, but there was a window. The next thing he noticed was Mugman eating. He was facing away from the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, the imp darted across the hall and scrambled up to the window. After fiddling with the latches, it came to a devastating conclusion; the window was locked. There was a small keyhole in both of the window’s latches. Hurriedly scampering to the desk on the other side of the room, the imp was in for more bad news; Cuphead is nowhere near as neat as Mugman. Random trinkets were carelessly strewn about in the drawer. Even worse, things clanged around when it was open. The sound of cautious footsteps came from the hall. Panicking, the imp hid under the desk and closed its eyes tightly.

The footsteps stopped in front of the desk. The sound of the desk drawer closing above the imp made it shudder and grab its tail comfortingly. There was a deafening, tense silence as neither one moved. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Mugman left his twin’s room. Once the footsteps were just audible, the imp took a deep breath and moved out from under the desk and to the door. Luckily, Mugman hadn’t closed the door. Peering out, the imp looked down the hall. Mugman wasn’t at the table. Confused, the imp leaned out the door to get a better look.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

Chapter Text

“So.”

The imp quivered in the black loveseat, the orange juice Mumgan poured for it splashed around in its cup. Mugman stood in front of the imp, picking the creature apart bit by bit with his eyes. The imp took a shaky sip of juice and kicked its legs anxiously, letting them dangle above the ground. “Well?”, Mugman hissed impatiently. Chittering nervously, the imp gulped the rest of the juice down. “P-please, I was just doing what I was told…” the imp choked out. “Who put you up to this?” Mugman sat down on the coffee table. “The Devil,” the imp whispered. “The boss?” Mugman looked taken aback by this. The imp nodded. Mugman muttered something under his breath and then said, “Just go.”

The imp happily left, tripping over itself. Mugman frowned and shook his head. He was mad, disappointed, even disgusted by the fact that his boss would send any being to stalk him outside of work. He has to ask Phear about this.

♠️♠️♠️

"He jus’…does that?"

"Mhm. Does tha’ t’ all o' us. Don't know why he'd do it t’ ya, though," Phear Lap shrugged and knocked his knuckles against the table. "That's creepy," the younger man commented. "Ye kinda sign away yer privacy when ye sign yer contract, but ya ain't soulless," Rumulus took a gulp of his Irish Coffee. Mugman sat cross-legged on the loveseat, leaning against the armrest. He faced Rumulus, who sat on the other armrest with his legs over the side. Phear Lap sat on the coffee table with a flask in his lap.

“Yea, it’s kind o’ weird. Maybe we’re jus’ used t’ it though?” Phear Lap more or so asked Rumulus than suggested it. “Mhm. Wheezy and Ginny, Et’an, and I been ‘ere the longest. If it makes ya uncomf’table, talk t’ him ‘bout it, he’ll listen,” the glass bottle passed the now empty glass to Phear Lap, who poured him some whiskey from his flask and passed it back. Mugman groaned and pressed himself further into the armrest. “I know, I know. I jus’ can’t wrap my head around why he’d do that.” “Ye’re on yer own there, sweetheart. We can’ tell you how the Devil thinks,” Phear Lap stood and stretched, eyeing Rumulus as he chugged his drink. “Oi, don’ get drunk too quick. Ye’ll get chewed out by the Dice.” Rumulus rolled his eyes. “He knows better.”

Mugman listened while the two old casino workers discussed King Dice. Apparently, it wasn’t just him who thought the manager was demeaning to the employees. Rumulus and King Dice have fought plenty of times before, but they were either broken up or Rumulus won. Before King Dice was manager, it was Wheezy. Rumor was that since King Dice and the Devil had been dating at that time, he convinced the deity to let him be manager. Wheezy had been offered to switch with Dice for his old position, but he enjoyed being the Devil’s secretary. “Whole lot easier to sign paperwork than deal with Mary Kate,” he said. Rumulus tried to remember who the manager was before Wheezy, but he didn’t know. Not even he was around that long. Phear Lap eventually drained his flask and checked his watch. “‘t’s almost 4, we should head back t’ the casino, Rumulus,” the horse skeleton pulled the glass whiskey decanter to his feet. “You comin’ with, Mugsy?” “Yeah, lemme get ready.”

♣️♣️♣️

Casino workers, demons, and imps roamed the casino freely, playing games and getting ready. Mugman, Phear Lap, and Rumulus entered the casino in their respective order to be greeted by Ginnette and Ethan. They looked worried.

“Rumulus, somethin’s wrong wit’ Pirouletta,” Ginnette explained, “she’s actin’ real strange.” The tall man stood still. “Strange how?” he asked. “She won’ talk to any o’ us, and she’s locked ‘erself in ‘er dressin’ room,” Ethan explained, taking Rumulus by the hand and guiding him to (Mugman assumed) Pirouletta’s room. “I hope she’s okay,” Mugman mumbled. “I’m sure she will be, Pirouletta’s tough,” Phear Lap noticed Mugman walking towards the offices. “Are ye off t’ face the beast?” Phear Lap called after him. “Yup,” the mug replied, twirling on his heel before continuing on his path.

♠️♠️♠️

“Somethin’s wrong, I can feel it,” Wheezy said abruptly. King Dice looked up. “Why’re ya sayin’ that?” King Dice raised an eyebrow. “‘t’s jus’ a feelin’ I got, like somethin’s ‘bout t’ happen,” the cigar paused, “but I don’ know what.” King Dice hummed. “If that means what I think it means, we’re in trouble. Big trouble,” Hopus Pocus nodded. “Don’ worry, t’s jus’ Mugsy. I don’ think it’ll be too bad,” Phear Lap uncrossed his legs. “What’s happened wit’ Mugsy?” Chips asked, concerned. The five men sat backstage, waiting for Rumulus to return from Pirouletta’s room. Upon hearing his voice, she opened the door and pulled him inside. Chip had wanted to stay in the hall so they could hear what was going on, but the other four pulled him to the backstage area on the notion that Rumulus would tell them if it was important.

Phear Lap sighed. “He found an imp in his room las’ night, and caught ‘em snoopin’ in ‘is brother’s room this morning,” the skeleton’s eye sockets radiated disappointment. King Dice looked appalled. “What was it doin’ there?!” “Said the boss sent it,” Phear Lap responded quickly. Hopus Pocus looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Why would he do that?! He mus’ve been outta’ his mind, more so then me!” the rabbit protested. “Shameless, that’s what it is,” King Dice shook his head. “I know he’s the Devil an’ all, but sheesh, couldn’ he stand to be a lil more tactful?” Wheezy dragged a hand down his face.

Meanwhile, Mugman approached the Devil’s office. Disgust, betrayal, anger, and indignation clawed at his stomach. He noticed that the demons and imps were avoiding him, and giving him sympathetic looks that made him even more frustrated. He didn’t need sympathy, he needed to get to the bottom of this.

The Devil couldn’t be calmer…until he felt the boiling anger wash over him, burning him like hellfire burnt a priest. The source of this anger was approaching at an alarming rate. The deity wondered why nobody had stopped them. Normally, the angry beings were customers. The Devil’s thoughts were interrupted by a kind knock. Sighing, he let them in. Imagine his surprise when it was Mugman standing in his door, and the anger was coming from him. Shoving his surprise aside, the Devil spoke up, “Ah, how’s my star?” he purred, hoping it wasn’t him he was mad at. “Disappointed,” Mugman said, his tone reflecting his words, “in you, I should clarify.” “What have I done?” the Devil asked curiously. “Oh, I dunno, sent an imp to stalk me?” The Devil’s heart sank. He knew. But the imp had said it hadn’t been seen! That nothing had happened! “What’s with the face? You shoulda known I’d catch on, and according t’ Phear an’ Rumulus, you also do it t’ the rest of ‘em,” the mug crossed his arms. “Listen, let me explain,” the Devil stood nervously. “Go ahead—tha’s what I came ‘ere fo’. An expl’nation,” the mug scowled.

“I— you’re— I don’ want ya to get hurt, alright?! Since ya ain’t soulless, I can’ watch ya, so I sent an imp! I’m keepin’ ya safe!” “Keeping me safe?! I can keep myself safe, got it? Boss, I don’ know if ya understand how fuckin’ creepy that is…” Mugman bit his cheek, keeping himself from yelling. But if that was the whole story, well, he was gonna rip his boss a new one. “No, Mugs, bein’ associated with the casino at all will put a target on yer head! And with your hip-swayin’, I wouldn’ be surprised if the crowd became obsessed wit’ ya, like Ethan when we give out tequila shots!” the Devil roared. Mugman flinched at the sudden fury before retaliating. “That doesn’ give ya a right to stalk me! Why don’t you understand that? I am not yer responsibility outside o’ work!”

“Please, Mugs, just let me help you! It’s not that I think you can’t defend yerself, it’s jus’!…” the Devil struggled to find his words. He knew what he wanted to say, just not how to say it. Mugman let out a long sigh. “Tha’s what I thought, I…I’ll talk to ya later, maybe you’ll have an excuse then,” Mugman turned on his heel and speed-walked out of his boss’s office. “Hey, wait, Mugsy!—“ the Devil was cut off by his door slamming. The deity sat up for a moment longer, before letting his head hit the desk.

♣️♣️♣️

“How’d it go?” Phear Lap asked Mugman as soon as he saw him. Mugman turned the radio down. “Poorly,” he sighed. Mugman squatted and adjusted the radio’s volume so he could hear the music and talk to Phear Lap. The skeleton watched him return to the centre of the room. “Yeah, I had a feelin’ it did. Ya sorta ignored us when ya came backstage,” the skeleton shook his head. Mugman began his routine again. “He got mad. Super mad,” Mugman did a high kick for emphasis then muttered something under his breath. Phear Lap watched intently. “Odd. He doesn’ norm’ly lash out at confr’ntation,” the skeleton pondered. Mugman twirled and posed facing the mirror, but turned his head back to Phear Lap. His hands travelled down his torso and to his thighs teasingly. Phear Lap felt warmth spread through his bony body. “God dammit, Mugs,” he laughed at his own arousal. The mug smiled, knowing exactly what his friend was laughing about. “That’s what it's supposed to do!”

The skeleton watched Mugman finish his routine. “Eh. I could do better on that kick. Needs more control, I’m not trynna flash the audience,” Mugman looked at himself in the mirror, hands on his hips. “I don’ think they’d mind it,” Phear Lap commented. Mugman chuckled. “Don’t you have work?” Mugman said, catching sight of the clock. “Ah fuck, Dice’s gonna be up my ass!” Phear Lap groaned, “Good luck, but I don’ think ya really need it.” Phear Lap left Mugman’s room, carefully shutting the door behind him. Mugman began his routine again for the umpteenth time.

Meanwhile, the Devil just now lifted his head from his desk. “Dammit, dammit, dammit…” He muttered to himself. A knock on his door snapped him up to attention. “Come in!” The Devil sat up straight in his seat, attempting to look professional. King Dice sauntered into the office with a cheeky smile. “I saw that li’l brat walk outta here earlier, seemed mighty upset. What’ve ya got yerself int’ now?” King Dice’s smug smile gave away his intentions. Satan rolled his eyes. “Don’ worry ‘bout it, Mugs and I will discuss it ag’n later,” The deity dismissed the casino manager. Dice scoffed, but left. He stopped at the door before leaving, though. “Well? Don’ ya have some employees to yell at?” Lucifer growled. Dice turned his head and frowned.

“Wheezy shoulda taken his position back.” “I agree.”

♠️♠️♠️

Mugman sat backstage with Pirouletta, who was tapping her fingers nervously. “Pirouletta, are you alright?” Mugman finished his water; he didn’t drink alcohol before stage time. Pirouletta, however, was on her fourth glass of vodka. “No,” came the simple response. “What’s wrong?” The mug asked, concerned. Pirouletta looked up from her glass and into the young performer’s eyes. “There are many people today; more than I’ve ever seen,” Pirouletta set her glass down. “Oh, them? Oh, they’re fine! Here, I’m goin’ on before ya. You can watch from the side curtains. Maybe it’ll make ya feel better?” Mugman stood and offered the Russian ballerina a hand. She took it gratefully, hoisting herself to her feet. “Thank you, I’ll try it.”

“Mugman! You’re up in two!”

Mugman and Pirouletta raced to the stage right wing together. The band was getting ready; they could here the faint click of strings tightening. Pirouletta stood to the side, able to see the stage from her position. She fidgeted nervously. “Stay here, I’m entering stage left,” Mugman rushed to the other wing.

As Hopus Pocus finished up, Mugman stretched. Suddenly, a demon approached him. “Hey, cutestuff! Ya up next?” The demon tapped him on the shoulder. Mugman turned around, surprised. “Oh! Um…yeah,” He answered, his face turning a light blue. Heavens above, this guy was Hot with a capital H. The demon grinned cheekily. “Good luck, then. I’ll get up close,” The purple demon winked. Mugman’s blush deepened, but he smiled sweetly. “I’ll put on a show for you.” “Mugman! 15 sec’nds!” The imp called from above. The demon slipped away. Mugman shook his head and giggled before collecting himself.

When he entered the stage, he was greeted by enthusiastic applause and cheers. He waved excitedly at the crowd before assuming his position. He took notice of the same demon from before near the front of the stage. Mugman winked at him– to which the demon smirked and winked back, a light red dusting his purple cheeks– and began when he heard the violin. The routine began smoothly; he took graceful steps across the stage, swaying his hips for added effect. Then, high kick– not too high, Mugman!– into a spin…here we go…Mugman could feel the rhythm begin to settle into his muscles and bones, guiding him through the dance. Mugsy caught the eyes of the demon from backstage multiple times. Feeling much more confident now that he was onstage, he decided to do something a wee bit more provocative then he’d usually do. When Mugman went to drag his hands down his waist to his thighs, he crouched down to the ground and arched his back. The gasps and whistles and excited shouting he got were exhilarating. Mugman found himself making full eye contact with the purple-skinned demon. Mugs smirked and blew him a kiss before standing back up and continuing his routine. He caught a glimpse of the demon’s flushed face.

♣️♣️♣️

When Mugman entered the plaza, he was met with a crowd of people– he was surprised to see that he knew a few.

“Brineybeard, Barry, what’re you two doin’ ‘ere?” Mugman managed to pull the two past the excited crowd so he could talk to them. Barry was first to speak. “We came ter see yyyeee! Ye be an exc’ll’nt dancer, Mugssaayyyyy!” The barrel grinned happily, sharp teeth poking their bottom lip. “Don’ mind Barry. He be three sheets t’ the wind. But ‘e’s got a point, me hearty!” The captain laughed loudly. Barry laughed with him, adding in an intoxicated “Aye!” as he did. Mugman beamed. “‘ey, how ‘bout we go grab s’mmmme drinks togetha?” Barry suggested. “Nah, ‘fraid I can’t. No excessive drinkin’ on the job, and y’all know how I get with the crew ‘round,” Mugman explained. “Aye aye, lad, I understand. Seems ye’ve got a few others waitin’ ter see ye, so we’ll stop carousin’. Barry, c’mon!” “Aye aye, capt’n! See ye ‘round, Mugssayyy!” Barry stumbled after Brineybeard.

♠️♠️♠️

“Varnan, hm?” Mugman hummed. He liked that name—it rolled off the tongue nicely. The flirty purple demon from backstage had managed to whisk Mugsy away from the crowds. They now sat together in a quieter part of the casino, where there were tables just now setting up games and people slowly filling in. Mugman enjoyed the change of pace. Varnan grinned. “Yup, that’s my name, sweetheart. And you’re Mugman, or as that barrell guy called you, “Mug-say,”” Varan leaned across the table, resting his elbows on the tabletop. He rested his chin on the backs of his clawed hands, observing Mugman with golden eyes. Mugman smiled sweetly. “Oh, you can just call me Mugsy. Everyone does,” Mugman crossed his legs under the table and smiled wider as his foot “accidently” brushed Varan’s thigh. The demon shuddered and blushed. “Shit, you do that again an’ we might ‘ave ta go somewhere even more private…” Varan’s eyes narrowed in lust. Mugman hummed. “Maybe I’ll let ya, but only if ya treat me nicely.”

Varan smirked, his blush brightening. Mugman felt his own cheeks warm. “So, how long’ve you been workin’ ‘ere? I ain’t eva seen ya around.”

While the two men talked and flirted, they both failed to notice the looming figure in the shadows.

Who the fuck was talking to his star performer?

The Devil felt his form become wild, consumed with wrath and envy. Who the hell even was this guy? Who does he think he is? Satan had watched the brash demon drag the gorgeous performer to an unpopulated area of the casino. The deity watched with red-tinted vision as the two flirted with each other. His claws grew to a dangerous point, his horns growing and curling forward. He could feel the various eyes on his body rip open, observing the scene in front of him. Eventually, the pathetic demon stopped talking and looked around. No doubt he felt the angry presence by now.

Mugman reached forward and took one of the demon’s hands in his own. “Is somethin’ wrong, Varan?” The demon flushed at the contact. So far it had only been light caresses and barely-there touches. “Oh, um…yeah, it’s jus’…somethin’s off…” “How ‘bout we go somewhere else, then?…Maybe we can go back to my room?” Mugman flushed an adorable cerulean, smirking. All uncomfortableness left the demon’s body. He blushed and smirked. “Lead the way.”

It may have been the Devil’s imagination, but Mugman’s gaze may have lingered on him a moment too long to not have seen him...