Work Text:
It had never made any sense to him.
Falling in love with other people, that is.
Love, unconditional and pure, a scene from a book - romantic confessions in the rain, proposals of commitment atop a lake, a ring meant to promise everlasting affection.
An increased heart rate at the mere sight of your lover, a buzzing feeling in your gut that has you weak in the knees, just wanting to feel their skin against yours, hot and fuzzy. Silent displays of affection, touch, gentle and intoxicating to the mind until you crave more of it.
Addictive like a drug.
They had always told him he would have to find a fine lover one day. A beautiful gal who would cook delicious meals, who would serve him with love and affection. Soft skin and gentle eyes that look up to you as caress her face and body. A voice that would only sing for you. She will bear your child and raise a beautiful little girl or a handsome young man of your splitting image.
~*~
The girl was beautiful. Maybe a year younger than him, they had met in the small cafe he fancied, tucked away in a hidden alleyway near the church, she sat in his favorite spot on the terrace with a view across the square. The radio on the table played and she hummed along a jazzy tune.
She had met his eyes then, bright eyes filled with an innocence he could not fathom and a smile so charming that he hoped she would never stop.
“Oh, my apologies! Is this your seat?”
Her melodic voice greeted him as he continued to stare.
“No worries, my dear!” He offered her a polite bow then. “Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!”
~*~
They started to meet more often from that day forward.
A cup of tea at the cafe, a slow walk across the university campus. A picnic on a hill outside the city from where they could watch the townsfolk hurry through busy streets.
She loved to listen to the radio, a passion for music they shared.
“Why don’t you start your own radio show?” she asked with innocent curiosity.
The question earned a laugh from him at the time.
Because she loved his radio interpretations, she loved the mid-atlantic accent he would use to tell her about his day and how he would narrate their time spent like a news reporter and there was no more of an audience he needed. She loved his dry humor and word-plays and she loved the polite elegance with which he reached his hand out to invite her to dance.
Her voice was beautiful to the song of the piano he played gingerly only for her alone.
The time they spent was filled with laughs as their bodies flew across the dance floor, swaying to her favorite song like butterflies caught in a light breeze.
It was not until they stopped that he noticed the redness on her cheeks as she smiled a nervous smile at him, eyes shying away with her hands resting on his chest.
Her voice faded from his mind as he watched with wide eyes how her body leaned in closer. Her hot breath met his before she closed the distance between them.
She was gentle in her touch, he could feel her, soft and loving against himself, but his mind couldn’t keep up. There was a feeling like needles poking his skin as her hand caressed his cheek and he couldn’t help himself.
He pushed her away, panting slightly after the kiss, an expression neither couldn’t understand on his face.
He left her sitting alone on the dance floor that day.
~*~
To him, they had been friends.
Yes, he had loved the way her hair swayed whenever they danced, the glow in her eyes when she listened to him talk. How her smile brightened when he played for her and how her voice sounded especially beautiful when she sang along.
But when her touch met his skin, it felt like all that endearment was suddenly replaced by a feeling more akin to repulsion.
The touch stung in a way he couldn’t quite put in place.
They had touched countless times before, he held out his hand to help raise her from her seat. Her fingers grazed his shoulder as they swayed and his curled gently around her thin waist to dip her low.
So why did it feel so wrong now?
Has she always felt this way about him? Did he simply never notice? Did he give her the idea that he felt the same interest toward her?
The romantic intent behind her action sent a feeling of unease through his body. His chest contorted and nausea built, he wanted to puke at the thought of meeting her again like this.
He couldn’t understand why he felt this way.
All of a sudden, like someone turned a switch in his brain, every touch they had shared felt different, his skin crawled when she had moved in closer, his heart raced in a sense of fight-or-flight like he was running from a dangerous predator. A paralyzing feeling like white noise rushed through his body, freezing him in place.
It had felt wrong and he just couldn’t explain why.
For the longest time, he had believed that settling down with a family of his own, was his future. After all, it was the norm for people to fall in love, to crave affection, touch and gentle words of endearment from a person they want to hold close. But…
He wanted none of that.
~*~
“Hey Dollface.” Mimzy’s voice broke Alastor out of his thoughts. He took a sip from the glass of whisky he had been nibbling on for the past hour, staring at the liquid as it swirled around the half empty glass before gingerly placing it onto the bar counter.
She wore her usual work outfit. A short pink dress that hugged her curves well, a feathered headband in her short, blonde hair and extravagant makeup painted on her pretty face. She leaned over the counter, her chest a little too revealing for his personal tastes and he backed away slightly.
“Spill it.” She demanded after lack of proper greeting from his side. “You and that pretty gal from the other side of town, tell me, what's going on between you guys?” Mimzy wiggled her eyebrows at him in curiosity.
Alastor sighed, letting go of the glass on the counter and pushing it away from him.
“Nothing is going on between us.” He grumbled, looking towards the glass, now out of his reach.
“But? Did she shut ya down? Oh you poor soul! How about a dance sweetie? I can cheer ya right back up!”
“...I shut her down. I think. I don’t know. She suddenly got… closer into my personal space than I would have hoped and I pushed her away.”
“You WHAT?”
“What?”
Mimzies eyes were wide in shock. Leave it to her Al to shoot down just about the biggest hottie in the whole town.
“Mim, listen, I don’t know what happened. I thought we were friends but when she…” He trailed off, clearly chewing on his words for a moment before clearing his throat. “I don’t think I can reciprocate these kinds of feelings.”
Alastor sighed at his own words, his head hung uncharacteristically close to the bar counter, staring down like it was all its fault. Which was ridiculous, of course. The bar counter had nothing to do with the uncomfortable feeling in his chest whenever someone made advances towards his person.
“Oh Alastor, Dollface,” Mimzy placed a hand atop his shoulder, light enough that he could shrug it off if he was bothered by the notion. “That’s okay! Don’t let it get you all worked up, maybe she just wasn’t the right person for you? I heard the guys over at Jame’s bar also swing the other way in case that would be more up your alley…”
“Mimzy!” He shushed, quickly shutting her up, voice lowered so no one else would listen in on their conversation. “That’s not the issue.”
“It’s more that I don’t think there is a right person for me. It seems wrong, romance, I mean.”
“Oh, well. I can’t say much about that but… if that’s the case I don’t really see the issue.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me right sweetie, now wipe that sorry expression off your pretty face! It doesn’t suit you!” Mimzy pouted at him, stemming her hand against her hips. “Who cares if ya want to stay off the market, yer a bit of an odd one already so what’s one more thing to the list?”
She smiled at him, wide and genuine as she pulled on his hand with enough force to have him stumble off his barstool and onto the dancefloor of the club.
And Alastor, if a little dumbfounded, smiled back at her. Perhaps she was right, there was no reason to mull over these things.
If he didn’t fall in love, that was not really his problem.
~*~
“So…” Angel's voice trailed off. “What’s the deal with you and creepy face?”
Rosie gave him a curious glance at the odd question.
Or, perhaps, odd was not the right word to use. It was, in fact, quite the normal question to ask, yet, since it had been directed at her relationship to Alastor, she couldn’t help but snicker.
“What should be the deal with us?” she asked in return.
“I mean,” Charlie butted into the conversation with poorly concealed curiosity. “You two seem pretty close and it is a bit strange to see Alastor so… pleasant with someone. Sure, there are Husk and Nifty but that’s…” She was clearly uncertain with her choice of words, but Rosie understood.
“You think the two of us are romantically involved?”
The radio that played a slow jazz song grew ever so slightly in intensity at her words. Rosie saw Alastors ears twitch where he sat at the bar but no reaction from him otherwise. He was talking to Husk who looked less than pleased with the company. Judging by the looks he threw in their direction he would gladly have her take Alastor away and replace him with quite literally anyone else in the room.
She answered him with a wink. Husk grunted, turning back to wiping the counter of the bar for what must be the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. He could occupy Alastor for a little longer.
“It’s just, it's rare for Al to seem so… comfortable around someone else. You know, he doesn’t let anyone touch him until he does it first unless it’s you or Nif. So… we have been wondering if you two, you know…”
“If ya guys are fucking or what’s up with all that.” Angel finished Charlie's ramblings in his usual, uncensored mannerism.
“Angel!” Charlie's voice hushed the other demon to silence at his scandalous choice of words.
The radio hitched and a scratch tore through the room. Rosie saw Alastors ears ruffle and stand up straight at the words but he didn’t react otherwise. This was not a topic he enjoyed and he was just close enough to listen in. Husk threw another warning glance in her direction, clearly not in the mood to deal with more of Alastors… mannerisms.
Charlie eyed them warily, her head ducked.
Rosie offered a smile to the two demons before her, it was not like they could know any better, really, but perhaps a bit of an explanation was in order. Alastor would never talk about this himself, avoiding the topic of love and sex as if either personally offended his entire existence.
“We are not dating and, in fact, dear Alastor probably never even thought about the prospect of it. That our friendship or our songs and dances could be anything but platonic.”
Charlie and Angel eyed her with curiosity, seemingly eager to learn more about the inner workings of their mysterious benefactor.
“Alastor doesn’t quiet… experience love as you people do and I doubt he even knows that himself. He is still stuck in the 1920’s when it comes to that, where being anything but heterosexual was considered a mental illness.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, Alastor doesn’t like being pitied and judging by how little he reveals about himself, she would assume that enough happened in his previous life that would give people reason to feel sorry for him.
His lack of interest in love and romantic involvement was one of those things he rather kept to himself, not willing to let any sort of weakness show. Yet, Rosie had long since figured out what must be going on in his head when it comes to ‘love’.
She saw the questioning look the other demons gave her, searching for the right words.
“Hm, Angle, you only have interest in men, correct?”
He nodded. “Sure do. I mean, yeah, girls can be pretty but they just don’t really do it for me.”
“And you Charlie dear, are interested in women, right?”
“I, uh, yes, that’s true.” Charlie's voice lowered, a little embarrassed as she mumbled her answer.
“For Alastor, I say it is quite similar to the two of you. Like you, Angel, he experiences no interest in women and neither does he have any in men, just like you Charlie. Both in the romantic and sexual sense. I would say he doesn’t even think about the idea of falling in love with someone. He certainly is aware of his attractiveness and his effect on people, yet the idea of reciprocating any of this doesn’t seem to cross his mind at all.”
She finished her explanation with a smile. The music in the background increased in intensity and Rosie could see Alastors ears twitch slightly in their direction as Charlie and Angel mused her answer.
“Oh, I get it.” Angel was the first to break the silence. “He doesn’t like ta’ fuck and he doesn’t like all that sappy romance stuff. I mean, I’m not surprised honestly.”
“I think I heard about that before,” Charlie added her own thoughts. “They call it asexual and aromantic, right? Aroace, I think. It’s when you don’t feel those kinds of attractions to other people.”
The music went a little louder at her words and none other than Alastor himself popped up from his shadow right between them on the bench, grinning as usual.
“It is quite rude to talk about other people when they are within ears-reach, you know!” His voice was chatty as usual but Rosie noticed the tension in his posture regardless.
“So do tell me, please! I would love to hear your thoughts!” His eyes darted between all of them in curious anticipation.
Husk huffed a dry laugh from his spot on the bar, mumbling something about “eavesdropping being no less fucking rude you asshole”. He wiped the counter again, glad to be rid of the unwanted company.
Rosie offered him a smile of her own. Alastor loved being the center of attention and the talk of the town. He didn’t just want people to hear him, he wanted him to be a force ever-present in their minds to inflict fear, it was just one way in which he controled those around him.
“Oh, Alastor”” Her voice matched his cheerfulness. “My apologies. Those two had just been curious about our relationship so I cleared up this silly misunderstanding, that is all.”
“Yeah, don’t worry Al!” Charlie chirped in. “Sorry we made an assumption, we didn’t know you were aroace.”
“That I am what now?” Alastors confusion made him almost look dumbfounded. Rosie could hear the change in static as the wheels in his head turned the way they always did when it comes to modern language.
With a humm, Rosie stood, reaching her hand out to Alastor instead, inviting him with a gentle eyes to a dance.
“You will figure it out eventually, my dear.”
Charlie and Angel smiled at the pair as Alastor stood, bowing to Rosie and taking up her invitation for a dance. A jazzy tune filled the room and the two practically soared over the floor.
Even after his death, those feelings of romantic or sexual nature seemed to elude him. His heart never beat faster, no matter who he met. There were no butterflies in his belly, no fuzzy feelings of romantic affection, no arousal of sexual nature, no, quite the opposite at that.
It was not just a thought in his head, it was a physical sensation like the sound of an alarm blaring in his ears that told him something about it all just felt wrong to him.
He just didn’t want any of that.
Alastor, just like Charlie and Angel, didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by his own identity and that was really all that mattered.