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Alastor sighed as he flipped the page of his book.
The day had been particularly boring, his night continuing the same. One of his multitude of radios quietly poured out a random mix of classic tunes as he read, sitting in his velvety, scarlet armchair, the fireplace awake with a roaring blaze.
He shut his book and sighed, closing his eyes, tuning into his music, feeling the warmth of the fire on his clothed legs.
Attempting to imagine any way to spruce up his evening. Everyone else in the hotel had already turned in for the day, making him the only one awake.
At least he thought until he heard a gentle knock at his door. A knock so quiet, it was if whoever was on the other side was trying to not wake him up if he was asleep, and Alastor could admit he appreciated someone was trying to not interrupt his wishful slumber.
Alastor set down his book, approaching the door trying to imagine who’d be awake at this hour.
He opened the door, showing Angel Dust adorned in cheap, uncomfortable, looking lingerie and a classic, old-Hollywood style robe. It seemed as if the timid Pornstar was walking away from Alastor’s room.
“Angel Dust! What brings you to my door? Hopefully nothing too forthcoming!” Alastor performed.
“Oh! Uh.. no, no. I just um.. couldn’t sleep. I-I figured you out of anyone else here would most likely be awake at this hour, and I uh,.. g-guess I wanted some company?” Angel stuttered. “W-Would you maybe care to join me in the kitchen for a s-snack? I have a stash of strawberries hidden from princess cotton candy..” He nervously smiled, wringing his top set of hands together.
Alastor’s smiled tightened as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the feminine man in his doorway.
“Typically, I only go for deer. Being a cannibal and all.”
“I happen to know a bitchin’ beignet recipe that goes beautifully with strawberries..” Angel’s voice teased playfully.
“Well... My Mother taught me a lot when I was young, one of them being to not turn down beignets when offered. Especially one with strawberries.” Alastor chuckled. “Shall we?” He motioned to the hallway.
Angel’s small, timid smile immediately widened. “Yes, we shall.”
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They walked down the hallway together, past the lobby and into the kitchen. Angel began pulling out the ingredients to make the French dessert as soon as they stepped in, Alastor taking a set on a stool to the island.
“French Rhum?”
“Mhm. That’s the recipe I was taught. The recipe also doesn’t call for yeast either.”
“Angel... where did you learn this recipe?” Alastor looks at Angel.
“Well Sugar, when I was alive I would perform all over the states. Some of my favorite places to perform were Boston, Manhattan, a few cities in California and last but certainly not least, New Orleans.” Angel explained as he began mixing the ingredients together. “New Orleans was so damn beautiful. I always admired the French, their food, fashion, the language, of course it being the ‘city of love’ and shit. New Orleans, or just Louisiana in general was the closest I could get to France, especially being that I wasn’t able to obtain a passport thanks to my Pops, but that’s a story for a different time.” Angel laughed before continuing. “I performed in New Orleans for the first time July 15th, 1928. It was after that show I met a lovely dame. She’s the one who taught me this recipe. We would talk for hours as we baked, drank tea together, I’d help her tend to her garden, help her clean up a little, she didn’t have much help being her husband had just been murdered within the past few years, and her son visited often but didn’t live with her. She would often say how much she’d love for her son and I to meet but we never did. I kept booking performances in New Orleans just so I could meet up with her again and again. It would annoy my managers so much, but I didn’t care.” Angel chuckled.
“What was her name?” Alastor asked intently.
“Marie LeBlanc. Beautiful woman to match her beautiful soul. Though the neighborhood knew her as Momma LeBlanc” Angel smiled.
Alastor’s eyes widened a bit.
“It seems you did meet her son in the end. Also, her husband was murdered by her son. He was one of the sons’ first kills among many. He wouldn’t dare ingest any of the man’s organs however, for he believed them to be much too disgusting. A disgusting man with a disgusting soul.” Alastor’s smile turned fond as he reminisced.
“Alastor. You’re Momma LeBlanc’s son aren’t you, Sugar?” Angel looked at him with large eyes.
“I realized this was my Mother’s beignet recipe as soon as you brought out the French Rhum.”
“And you killed your Pops? What was that like? I often think about what killing my own Pops would’ve been like especially after finding out he was the one that murdered my Ma.”
“It was exhilarating. The way his blood flowed from his neck and soaked his collar. When he collapsed to the floor, oh how triumphant I felt, freeing my dear sweet Mother from that sad excuse of a man, bringing honest justice to our homestead. She mourned him, yes. As any loyal wife would, but her happiness trumped her sorrow not much long after. I refused to even sample a piece of him for I knew he would taste more vile than anything. So I went a little blood-thirsty spree and had quite the delicious, bountiful feast afterwards.” Alastor ‘s mic played a laugh track as he continued to smile fondly at the grand memory of his.
“I wish I could’ve felt that sort of happiness of killing my Pops. Unfortunately he dropped at 68 drinking himself to fucking death because he lost a damn shipment of tommy guns. Y’know, mob boss shit.” Angel sighed, cutting the dough into squares. “But I respect your reasons. Your Ma did not deserve all the shit your Pops put her through. Did she ever find out you’re the one that off-ed him?”
“Nope. I wouldn’t dare tell her what her boy had become...” Alastor’s strict smile faltered.
Angel stopped his baking and looked at Alastor. “What would you say her ‘boy’ had become, Hon?” He questioned the Radio Demon.
“A monster.” Alastor responded.
“Alastor.” Angel walked around the island and grabbed Alastor’s hand. “You are no monster. You are brave, strong and you love your Ma. You killed your Pops to protect her, Babes. If she knew what you’d done for her, I know for a fact she’d be proud of you. When it comes to off-ing all your other victim’s and your hunger for people, I still wouldn’t call you a monster, but I also could be just a tad biased.” Angel leaned over and carefully kissed the small ‘X’ on his forehead where he was shot, gently squeezed Alastor's hand, then walked back around the counter, returning to his baking.
“That set you have on can’t be comfortable. I can tell by just looking at it.” Alastor comments on Angel’s appearance as he pulls the last fried pastry out of the oil basket, then laying them all out to cool slightly.
“You’re 100% correct. But this shit is some of the only stuff Val lets me wear to bed.”
“He decides what you wear to bed?”
“He decides fucking everything. What I wear, what I do, what I say, what I take, what I give, what I eat, what I drink, who I’m allowed to fucking be around.. he hasn’t told me I can’t be around you all because Charlie is the fucking princess of Hell so he can’t exactly tell her no. Cherri gets a pass because he’s constantly trying to hire her cause of her badass attitude and big tits. I’m not allowed to date, not allowed to get married, not allowed to get pregnant and I do I have to get an immediate abortion. I’m not allowed to decline drugs if a client offers some, same goes for a drink, I’m not allowed to leave the studio till he says I’m done for the day, he has to approve of any song or dance before I perform it, not allowed to have sex unless the demon pays, same goes for nudes, I’m not allowed to show any scars, cuts, or bruises in public, it all has to be covered up by makeup. I could go on for fucking hours on what I’m not allowed to fucking do.” Angel explains frustratedly. “Not only that, but he often drops in my room when I’m asleep, the fucking creep. It's always either to make sure I’m wearing what I’m suppose to, because he’s horny, or to slip me something while I’m out because he’s an asshole like that. He’s only allowed in my room though. I found this out, KeeKee has this sorta protection spell over the hotel, only demons that have been told they’re allowed to enter can enter another’s room, resident or non-resident. Val made me give him the okay, but he can’t go into your room, Charlie and Vaggie’s, Husk’s or Niffty’s.” Angel finished his rambling with a huff. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.” Angel gives a weak but apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it my dear. It seems you’ve been holding in these emotions for quite a while, you just needed the right person to talk to.” Alastor stands and walks over to the spider, wiping a tear off Angel cheek, he hadn’t known had fallen from one of his eight eyes. “It seems to be quite difficult to deal with an Overlord like him, however like my Father, Valentino is certainly no man, at the very least no gentleman. No gentleman in their right mind would mistreat and misuse such a magnificent creature as yourself. It seems quite easy for you to keep all these pent up emotions holed up inside that broken heart of yours. Does Valentino have some sort of tracker of sorts to make sure you follow his rules?” Alastor continues to hold Angel’s now pink, flushed cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
“No.. but the fucker always eventually finds out. That’s why I’ve just stopped risking it. Why live on the wild side of things and eventually get punished with absolute torture for it later then to just do as I’m told and get tortured less?” Angel let out a half-hearted laugh.
“What if your heart needed it?”
“I can’t listen to my heart anymore.”
“What is your heart telling you right now?” Alastor looks into the spider’s eyes.
“My heart says..” Angel leans in close to Alastor, beginning to close his eyes as Alastor leans in too.
His eyes shoot open.
“I can’t.”
“Angel..”
“The beignets. I think we have powdered sugar and honey in this cabinet here!” Angel frantically dashes about the kitchen, nervously grabbing powdered sugar, honey and strawberries, refusing to look Alastor in the face out of embarrassment.
“W-Would you like anything to drink, Sugar? Let’s see we got water, milk, some different juices, of course quite the selection of alcohol from the bar, haha! I think we some-”
“Angel.” Alastor gently grabs Angel’s hand. “Look at me, please.”
“I can’t.”
“Angel, please-”
“I can’t because if I do then I won’t be able to stop what comes next again.”
“Then don’t.” Alastor pulled Angel close to him.
“You are definitely more of a romantic than you let on Mr. Radio Demon.” Angel finally looks at Alastor.
“Only special one’s get to see this side of me.” Alastor holds him tight, leaning in once again.
“And to think, I just had to make you some bitchin' beignets for you to want to kiss me.” Angel teased.
“I may be a simple man, but I’m not that simple. As I said, you’re special.” Alastor chuckled.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Show me how special.” Angel asked while leaning in, listening to his heart without fear for the first time in a long time.
They met with a sweet and soft yet passionate kiss. Basking in each other, giving into the romantic temptation both had be attempting to ward off anytime it was just them in a room. For the longest time, they tried to stay acquaintances. Angel would get punished if he gave in. Alastor would risk his reputation and safety of his potential partner if he gave in.
However in this moment, standing in the Hazbin Hotel’s kitchen, at 1 AM, in front of a plate of fresh beignets and strawberries, neither of them cared. Neither of them paid any thought to the possible repercussions of giving in to each other.
They parted. Angel the happiest he’d ever been while in Hell, Alastor having the most genuine smile he’s ever had in Hell, spread across his face.
The two enjoyed the beignets and strawberries together, between every other bite, sharing a sweet, short kiss, on the cheek, the hand or on the lips.
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“All that in just one day at the studio? Good gracious!” Alastor exclaimed as the two walked down the hall, hand in hand.
“Oh, that’s nothing! Just last Tuesday he had me ‘treat’ at least 20 fucking clients, shoot 5 damn different films, begin 2 films, perform 10 pole shows and at the end of the day, finish him off with a fucking blow job. Prick. Then I was free for the day. That was a 29 hour shift. It started at 2 AM the day before and ended at 3 AM the damn day next.” Angel explained as he stretched his limbs.
“Do you at least get paid well?”
“Nah, Val keeps most of the shit I earn. My bi-weekly paycheck is usually just under $200. The only thing I get in full is fucking body pain and aches.” Angel rubs the back of his neck.
“Y’know what would do you well? A hot bath with Epsom salt. Not only is it incredibly relaxing, it soothes the muscles, taking away the soreness and aches those incredulous clients of Valentino’s give you.” Alastor advises.
“Maybe, but I don’t have anymore Epsom salt. Fat Nuggets got the zoomies the other day and knocked over my damn bag. What was left in the bag was a bitch to get out of carpet.” Angel retorts.
“I just so happen to have some. Follow me.” Alastor leads the spider to his room.
They step in and head directly to Alastor’s connected restroom.
Alastor turned on the bath, plugging up the drain.
“Alastor?”
“Is this okay? Don’t worry I will not try anything. I simply wish to relax with you, however if you are uncomfortable with it, I will not join you and you can take the bag, or I can leave the room.” Alastor offers.
“No.. no, it’s okay. In fact, please join me. It’ll be nice to not be expected to do anything sexual.” Angel smiled and spoke softly.
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“I don’t typically enjoy being in water, or even showing my body. However, having you here with me is comforting.” Alastor admitted, running his hands up and down Angel’s back.
Angel nuzzled his face into Alastor’s chest.
“I’m glad to be here. I really like this. Not having to do anything but relax. It’s nice.” He giggles. “Alastor? How’d you get all these scars?"
“Dogs. I despise them.” Alastor let out a sigh at the memory.
“Same. I’m more of a pig or cat person.” Angel responded.
“Indeed. Any animal is superior to those mangy mutts. Especially deer. Pigs too, I suppose.” Alastor joked to a smiling Angel.
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“Don’t.”
“Hm?”
“I have something much more comfortable for you to adorn as you sleep. No need for all that leather set. Must be absolutely retched to sleep in.” Alastor explains as he pulls out a wine red, less casual button down, handing it to Angel.
“But Val-”
“Isn’t allowed in my room. If you’d like to.. I invite you to rest with me tonight.” Alastor offered after Angel slipped on the garment.
“Alastor. I happily accept your invitation.” Angel kisses his cheek, taking Alastor’s hands in his top set.
Alastor picked up Angel, much to his surprise, and laid him down on the bed, climbing in with him.
They held each other close, Alastor finding out how pleasant of a pillow Angel’s chest fluff is, Angel finding out how good of a cuddler Alastor apparently was.