Chapter Text
Angel doesn’t know how to feel about the hotel, in all honesty. Is redemption possible? He has no clue. Is Charlie just delusional? Probably.
But, if it means Angel has a place to stay rent-free, you aren’t going to hear him complaining.
Plus, the hotel isn’t that bad. He has to share his feelings in a circle like he’s back in kindergarten but at least that’s all he’s expected to do.
When Charlie first offered the idea of the hotel to him, Angel was sure he would be put to work in one way or another. But no, Charlie just needs him to exist in the hotel and participate in trust exercises occasionally.
So Angel doesn’t mind staying there.
He doesn’t even mind Charlie, despite her being a walking, talking ray of sunshine. Or Vaggie, who looks like she would kill Angel if given the chance. Or Husk, mostly because he’s fun to flirt with. Or Niffty, even as… erratic as she is.
But Alastor. He minds Alastor. He minds Alastor a lot.
At first, Alastor was just another new face. He brought Husk and Niffty along with him as well as using his magic to spruce the hotel up a bit.
But he’s just so fucking cocky. Walking around like he rules Hell, always with that stupid fucking smile on his face.
All in all, Angel doesn’t like him. And he makes it known.
“Yo, Bambi!” Angel calls as Alastor materializes from the shadows. Alastor’s eye twitches, his smile tightening.
“Yes, Angel? What could you possibly want?”
“Just wanted to piss ya off,” Angel smirks as Alastor growls, radio static steadily filling the air before he takes a deep breath and turns away from him.
Alastor does not like Angel Dust. Granted, Alastor isn’t really a fan of anyone. He doesn’t hate spending time with Husk or Niffty. Or even Charlie.
Vaggie is…. abrasive to say the least.
But Angel is the bane of Alastor’s afterlife.
He seems to always be there. Whenever Alastor just wants a moment alone, Angel seems to know. He pops up out of nowhere to make obnoxious noises or call Alastor ‘Bambi’.
“Hey, boss?” Husker’s voice cuts through Alastor’s thoughts as he turns to him.
“Yes, Husker?”
“You were doin’ the fucking radio static shit again.” Husk grunts, moving back to cleaning the bottles he had abandoned for the conversation.
“Apologies, I was lost in my thoughts.” Alastor sits on a stool at the bar, tapping his fingers on the counter.
Husk just grunts in response, sliding over Alastor’s usual without saying anything. Alastor picks up the cup and sips from it, his mind wandering away from Angel. Thankfully.
If it were up to him, Angel would never cross his mind again. Angel would simply cease to exist, erased from everyone’s mind.
His smile grows at the thought.