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“Alastor?” Angel asked, walking into the lobby of the hotel and plopping himself down in the chair beside Alastors’, scooting it closer to the deer demon who barely even glanced up from the book in his lap.
“Hm?” Alastor hummed and flipped the page.
“Whatcha doin’?”
That made Alastor lift his head, looking up at Angel, clearly confused. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Reading a boring old book.” Angel said with little hesitation in the statement. “Probably medical in nature. Am I right?”
Alastor scowled at him and looked back down at his book, going back to trying to ignore Angel, which only made him giggle.
“Well, I’m bored.”
A heavy sigh, followed by the sound of nails tapping at the page of the book. “And what, pray tell, would you like me to do about that? Why don’t you go bother Charlie or Husker? Or what about that friend of yours that enjoys blowing holes in the side of my hotel?”
“Hey, she only did that once. ”
“Once too many.”
Angel rolled his eyes. “Charlie’s on another tear about the whole Heaven situation and she’s currently unable to be reasoned with. Husk’s drunk off his rocker and barely forming coherent sentences, last time I saw him he was posted up in the lobby bathroom with a bottle, rambling on about a bad poker game he shoulda won. And Cherri is in another terf war, I called her and she told me to either come fight with her or leave her be. I don’t wanna be bitched at by Charlie for getting into another fight so, here I am.”
“And what about Vaggie, Sir Pentious or the darling Niffty?”
Angel ticked them off on his fingers, “Barely tolerates me, doing something weird and science-y and… creepy.”
Alastor tilted his head, antlers growing a bit as his smile stretched wide enough to show glowing green stitches, his eyes glowing red. “And you don’t find me creepy?”
“Nope.” Angel crossed one leg over the other, lifting his hand to check his nails like he’d barely even noticed the change in Alastor’s appearance. “You’re kinda cute when you go all big bad Radio Demon. Like a… big, demonic plush toy.”
Alastor sank back down to his normal self, looking appalled by Angel’s words. “I beg your pardon?”
Angel looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “What? Alastor, c’mon, I know you try to put on this scary Overlord front and act like you don’t care about anything, but we’ve been living together for just about six months now and, I dunno. I’ve noticed things about you. You’re a good guy, yanno, under the whole eating people thing. You always do everything in your power to protect the hotel and all of us idiots in it and you cook dinner for us and, like, eight times outta ten it’s not made with people meat. So, no, even when you try to do the Radio Demon thing, I ain’t scared of you.”
Alastor blinked and, despite the smile on his face, Angel had never seen him look so confused before. Alastor was usually always so composed, looking nonchalant about everything anyone said to him. It was kind of exciting to know Angel had managed to break through that cool exterior.
“So,” Angel started when Alastor didn’t say anything after a long minute. “Wanna do somethin’?”
The Radio Demon stared at Angel for another long minute before he gave a heavy sigh and closed his book, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table and giving Angel a chance to read the cover. “Fine, what would you like to do?”
“Wait, firstly,” Angel pointed to the book. “ Practical Cardiovascular Medicine ? What, you got a heart condition or some shit?”
“I like to keep up to date on current medical findings.” Alastor said with a sniff, lifting his chin, looking ready to defend himself should the need arise.
“Right.” Angel tapped his fingers against his knee as he thought of what he and Alastor could do when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, what’s your favorite dessert?”
Alastor gave a harumph and crossed his arms. “I’m not a fan of sweets.”
“Oh please,” Angel leaned over the arm of the chair toward Alastor. “I’ve seen how many heapings of sugar you put in your coffee in the morning. Enough to send a small child into anaphylactic shock. You don’t gotta hide your massive sweet tooth from me. I won’t judge.”
The deer was silent for a long minute before he muttered. “My mother used to make this wonderful banana bread pudding I always enjoyed.”
Angel gave a quick nod of his head and hopped to his feet, holding a hand out to Alastor who looked at him like he’d just sprouted a second head. “Come on, Bambi, I ain’t gonna bite. Unless you’re into that.”
Alastor’s lip curled but he took Angel’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet, grabbing his staff where he’d leaned it against the couch and twirling it around his hand as Angel led them to the kitchen.
The kitchen was about as run down as the rest of the hotel. There was one burner on the stove they couldn’t use because it would always, without fail and no matter what anyone was making, catch fire. The broiler in the oven didn’t work for shit, the microwave had to be smacked just right on the side sometimes to get it to start and there had been more than one occasion when the hotel crew spent a night stuffing themselves with ice cream and popsicles when the freezer would just turn itself off in the evening and not turn back on till morning. But, even with all its issues, it was still probably Angel’s favorite place in the hotel. Besides his room, the kitchen was where he was comfiest.
He liked cooking the foods his nonna had taught him to make when he was a far younger - and more alive - man for his friends. He liked spending time in here making pasta dough and bread and meatballs after a long day on set when he couldn’t sleep or just needed anything to keep his hands busy. He liked feeling useful, even when he knew he was basically hopeless.
“What are we doing in here?” Alastor questioned as Angel walked over to the wall of aprons and took the frilly one with pink polka dots all over. He was a messy baker and didn’t want to risk getting anything on his cute, cream sweater dress after all.
“You’re gonna teach me to make your moms banana bread pudding. And in return, I’m gonna teach you how to make my nonna’s meatballs.”
Alastor gave an airy hum and set his microphone down on the kitchen island, leaning against it with one leg crossed over the other, looking the perfect picture of nonchalance. “What if I don’t want to know how to make your nonna’s meatballs?”
“You do,” Angel assured as he tied the apron around his waist. “Everyone wants nonna’s meatball recipe. My dad and my uncle got into a literal fight over it after nonna passed. That was before photo copiers were a thing so if you wanted a recipe, you either had to get the original thing or copy it down by hand which was always a fuckin’ pain. My dad lost the fight but, being the lazy sack of shit with three “perfect capable kids” he was, he told me to copy it down because I had the best handwriting. It took me an hour just to make sure I had it all done right because I didn’t want my ass beat if I messed something up.”
“Your father sounds…”
“Like an asshole? He is.” Angel clapped his hands. “Now, c’mon, grab an apron and let's get to cookin’! I’m hungry and that bread pudding you mentioned sounds fucking delicious.”
Alastor gave a heavy sigh and walked up to the wall of apron and grabbed - to Angel’s utter horror - the black leather butcher's apron from the hook on the end.
“That’s your apron?” Angel asked as Alastor tied it around his waist.
“Yes.” The deer answered shortly, smile tight as he looked up at Angel. “Why?”
“Nothin’, nothin’ I just thought- well, to be perfectly fuckin’ frank, I thought that was a community apron for, like, when we had to chop up meat or some shit. I didn’t realize it was just your apron.”
Alastor’s eyes narrowed on Angel. “And what’s wrong with it?”
Angel waved a hand around in the air like he was trying to grasp for the words he wanted to say. “Just… we’re baking. Don’t you have anything more baking appropriate?”
“We’re also making meatballs, correct? At your insistence, I believe.”
“Well, yeah but-”
“Then I believe my apron is quite suited for the job, wouldn’t you agree?”
Angel gave a huff and waved his hand at Alastor, waving him off and headed over to the fridge. “Fine, I give. All I’m sayin’ is you’d look real cute in some ruffles but nah, you wanna wear your boring leather apron then fine. I’ll be cute enough for both of us.” He pushed his fluff up with his top hands while his lower hands pulled open the fridge and started pulling out ingredients for the meatballs. “Get what we need for your bread pudding.”
“You’re quite bossy in the kitchen, aren’t you?” Alastor asked and Angel could practically hear the lift to his chin, even as he heard the soft clop of hooves on wood as Alastor walked to the pantry.
“I’m bossy all the time.” Angel assured, bumping the fridge closed with his hip and setting his gathered ingredients down on the island. “The apron just makes the power go straight to my head.”
Alastor came out of the pantry a couple minutes later, arms full of ingredients he carefully set out on the table, including a small loaf of bread that made an audible thump when Alastor set it down. Angel raised a brow at the Radio Demon but didn’t say anything as he walked past him to gather his own ingredients from the pantry.
“Do I want to know what the sausage is for?” Alastor called after Angel.
Angel snickered from the pantry as he grabbed spices and the canister of breadcrumbs. “Nonna’s secret ingredient.” He answered, exiting the pantry and setting the rest of his ingredients on the island where Alastor has also set out a few more ingredients from the fridge. “Chop up some Italian sausage real fine and mix it in with the beef, gives it a nice kick.”
“I see. I thought Italian sausage was a more American product.”
“Eh, kinda.” Angel shrugged. “My nonna used to make her own Italian sausage, the proper way. Store bought ain’t the same but it’s hard to find the shit to make it properly from hand down here. And besides, it still tastes good and technically it’s still nonna’s recipe.”
Alastor hummed, tapping his nails on the countertop, though he didn’t say anything else.
“Okay, well,” Angel brushed his hands down his front before gestring to Alastor’s pile of ingredients. “Show me what to do.”
Alastor gave another hum and walked over to the knife block, scanning over the knifes before pulling out one with a serrated edge and holding it out to Angel. “Start by cutting the bread into cubes.”
“Bread in cubes, easy.” Angel took the knife and grabbed out a cutting board from the cabinet beneath him before grabbing the bread. It felt hard as a rock and when he set it down on the cutting board, it made that audible thump again. “Uh, any reason why this bread feels like it’s been sittin’ in the pantry for three months?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say three months.” Alastor tapped his chin in thought. “Perhaps just over one month.”
Angel blinked dumbly at him. “We’re using month old bread? Why?”
“Stale bread is better for bread pudding. We’re going to add a lot of cream to it that will soften it up as it cooks and if you use fresh bread, it tends to get overly soggy. And I do hate soggy bread.”
Okay, well, Angel could respect that. People who enjoyed soggy bread were fucking weird and Angel would happily die on that hill. From the sounds of it, Alastor would too, so at least Angel wouldn’t go alone. While Angel worked on cutting up the bread - and got quite the arm work out if he was honest - Alastor sidled up beside him and conjured up another cutting board seemingly out of nowhere and started chopping up the bananas.
“I wonder,” Alastor started as he chopped and Angel was a little surprised that he’d been the one to start the next bit of conversation, rather than Angel having to do it. “Do you like nuts?”
Oh, there was a joke there, Angel could feel it on the very tip of his tongue. He tried to swallow it down, tried to give Alastor the normal answer he clearly wanted. But in the end, he lost the fight with himself and before he knew it, the words were tumbling from his mouth. “Depends, what kind of nuts? I personally like the smaller nuts myself, easier to fit in your mou-”
Alastor gave a long suffering sigh and held a hand up. “I meant the kind you eat.”
He just made it too easy. “So did I, big boy.” Angel said with a wink.
Alastor set his knife and reached behind him like he was going to untie his apron.
“Wait, no, don’t go, I was just makin’ a dumb joke!” Angel said, quickly setting his own knife down and grabbing one of Alastor’s arms. “Listen, you just walked right into it, what was I supposed to do?”
Alastor stared down at Angel’s hand on his wrist and the spider realized a moment too late exactly what he’d just done. “Oh, shit, sorry I-” He released Alastor. “I know ya don’t like bein’ touched, sorry. I just-”
Alastor’s gaze flicked up to Angel and he held his hand up once more to stop him rambling. “I was also making a joke, dear.” He said, voice sounding a bit off from his normal cool, collected tone. “I wasn’t actually going to leave.”
“Oh.” Angel slumped a bit, feeling stupid. “Right, that makes sense. You’re a funny one, Radio Demon.”
With a sharp clear of his throat, Alastor picked his knife back up and started chopping the last of the bananas. “Thank you.”
There was a long silent stretch as the two demons chopped until Angel finished cubing the bread and Alastor snapped a baking dish into existence in front of him for him to transfer the cubes to. “So,” he started as he used all four hands to move the bread. “Why bread pudding? Was it just something your mother really liked?”
“No.” Alastor said plainly. “The ingredients were cheap and easy to get ahold of so it was one of the only desserts she could afford to make. I hated it at first but grew to love it as I ate it more and eventually, it started to remind me of home.”
Angel nodded as Alastor talked. He had a few dishes like that too that he’d grown to enjoy more as he got older. Like risotto. He’d hated risotto when he was younger, even though it was one of the easiest dishes his mother could make. He’d hated the texture of it, had thought it was mushy and would often go to bed hungry when his mama made it. But as he got older, he kept trying it at his pa’s request - or demand, depending who you asked - and one day, something just clicked and he suddenly understood why everyone liked risotto so much. The texture still to this day sent a shiver down his spine, but the taste of a really good risotto was enough to make him forget. Now, when he had a good risotto, the taste could almost take him right back to those nights all those years ago, when he was with his family, before everything went south. Before Angel had told his pa he liked boys more than girls and had been beaten nearly to death and told if he brought it up again, he would be disowned and tossed out. Before he’d turned to drugs to dull the ache of hiding who he was and fearing for his life. Before his whole family, including his twin, the one person who’d promised to always be there, had turned on him.
Before he’d accidentally killed himself and wound up down here.
“I get that.” He said after a minute. “It’s good to have something to help remember the good times. Sometimes… it’s the only thing that even reminds you they were ever there.”
Angel lifted his head and glanced over at Alastor who was silently transferring the bananas into the baking dish with the bread.
“Sorry.” Angel said, face going warm. “I didn’t mean to get all deep on ya. Just got lost in my thoughts.”
“What is your good thing?” Alastor asked carefully, still not making eye contact with Angel as he set the bananas aside and grabbed some butter, measuring out what he needed and putting it in a dish, turning to the microwave.
“Risotto.” Angel responded after a minute. “Used to hate it when I was a kid but… now it reminds me of when everything was good.”
Alastor nodded, wacking the side of the microwave when it didn't start right away. “I've not had risotto before, though rice was also very cheap when I was young so I have a lot of other rice dishes. Jambalaya was my mother's specialty. And a good old fashioned gumbo was always a hit. She would make a big pot to share with all the neighbors and even then, we would still have leftovers for a week.”
“Your mom sounds like a real special lady.” Angel said with a soft smile.
“She was.” Alastor waited for the butter to finish melting then pulled it out of the microwave and set the bowl back on the island. “Now, you told me of your Nonna's secret for meatballs, why don't I let you in on my mother's secret to making the banana bread pudding so delightful?”
Angels heart gave a little skip at that. Alastor didn't seem the type to share family recipes all that often, if ever, so the fact he was willingly sharing with Angel made his face flush slightly. “Oh, Smiles, I would be honored .”
Alastor gave an airy hum like it wasn't a big deal - even though Angel could tell it was - and started mixing some cinnamon in with the melted butter. “Now, most recipes tell you to mash the bananas to add them into the bread pudding, but my mother found that would overwhelm the flavor of the dish with too much banana. So, instead, she found an alternative way.”
Angel watched carefully as Alastor took one of his little banana circles and dropped it into the cinnamon butter mix. Then, using a fork he conjured up - honestly Angel wondered if he'd ever even opened any of the drawers in this kitchen before - he flipped it over until it was coated before lifting it with the fork and tossing it into the baking dish with the bread. He repeated this twice more before holding the fork out to Angel.
“Oh, I dunno, Bambi.” Angel teased, taking the fork. “Seems pretty difficult, I dunno if I can replicate it.” He grabbed one of the bananas and dropped it into the butter mix just as Alastor had.
Alastor chuckled and conjured up another fork and with the two of them coating the tossing bananas into the dish, they were done with all of them in no time. “Now, as I mentioned, my mother didn't have a lot of money, so there was absolutely no waste in our house.” The deer said once they were out of bananas.
He picked up the cinnamon butter bowl and drizzled what was left of the mixture over the bread in the dish. Angel suddenly found himself unable to stop his jaw from unhinging a bit. Honestly, bread, bananas, butter and cinnamon shouldn’t look so good but dammit all if he didn't want to bury his face in the gooey mix already.
Alastor gave a chuckle as he wiped his hands on a towel and grabbed the container of milk he'd pulled out. “Don’t go slack jawed on me just yet, we've still got more to do.”
Right. Angel snapped his mouth shut, only to have it fall open once more when he watched Alastor dump some milk and heavy cream into the dish without even needing to measure. It was like he just knew the perfect amount. “You've been making this a long time, haven you?”
“For as long as I can remember.” Alastor confirmed.
“I can tell. I've been cooking and baking for a long time and even I ain't that confident in my skills to do shit without measuring.”
Alastor hummed. “It helps that bread pudding is one of those things you don't necessarily have to be exact for. If you accidentally add too much cream, well, it just makes the whole dish a bit creamier which, in my humble opinion, isn't a bad thing.”
“Hope no one in the hotel is lactose intolerant.” Angel joked as Alastor added sweetened condensed milk to the dish as well.
“If they are, then they'll just not get to try any.” Alastor said with a twitch of his lips. “More for you and I.”
Oh, Angel likes the way Alastor said that. He liked being included in whatever narrative was running through Alastors head. It made a warm, fuzzy feeling wash over him.
“Would you do me a favor and mix that all together while I get the spice mix ready?” Alastor gestured to the baking dish. “Make sure all the bread is evenly coated.”
“Oh sure.” Angel dug in a draw for a spatula and got to work mixing up the bread as Alastor had asked, making sure each piece of bread and almost every banana was coated in cream. “I understand now what you meant about not using fresh bread for this. Woulda completely lost its structural integrity by now.”
Alastor gave a laugh, a track of canned laughter playing along with him and Angel couldn't help but wonder if that was something the Radio Demon could control or not. “As I told you before, stale bread is for the best and it softens just fine as it bakes.”
“I'll never doubt your baking skills ever again.”
“Most excellent.”
The two of them worked in comfortable silence for a bit, Alastor sprinkling his spice mix into the dish and letting Angel mix it again, following that with some sugar and two eggs. Angel kept mixing as things were added until every piece of bread was coated and the dessert actually looked pretty yummy. Once that was done, Alastor smoothed out the bread pudding in the dish so it would bake evenly while he had Angel chop one more banana and scattered the pieces along the top of the dish.
“It looks fuckin’ amazing, Al.” Angel praised as Alastor opened the oven that Angel had somehow missed him turning on to preheat. “Can't wait to see it once it's actually cooked.”
Alastor chuckled softly, grabbing the dish and sliding it into the hot oven. He closed the door and set the chicken shaped timer that Charlie nearly had an egg over when she brought it home a couple months ago, going on about how it made the cutest clucking noise when time ran out. “I do hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do.” He walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Now, while that bakes, shall we work on your meatballs?”
Angel had to bite his tongue hard to keep the joke that immediately rushed to the forefront of his brain from escaping his mouth. He could do this, he could keep himself in check.
At least, he damn well hoped he could.
“Yeah, let’s work on the… meatballs.” Angel cleared his throat, pressing his lips together to keep them from turning up at the corners as he joined Alastor at the sink. Once they’d both washed up and Alastor put some of the stuff from their bread pudding bake away, they stood together in front of the stuff for the meatballs.
“Okay,” Angel started, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater dress. “You’ve made meatballs before, right?”
“Of course.” Alastor scoffed, clearly offended by the implication that he hadn’t made something as simple as meatballs before.
“Hey, just gotta check, ya never know.” Angel giggled and gestured to the pile of ingredients. “Basically, we’re just gonna kinda eyeball it, like you did with the bread pudding. At least, that’s how nonna always did it.”
Alastor nodded as Angel bent and grabbed a mixing bowl from a cabinet and tore open the package of ground beef, dumping it into the bowl. “You know, I know a great butcher in Cannibal Town who could get you fresh meat. He’ll even grind it right in front of you so you know it’s fresh.”
That made Angel give Alastor a weary look. “Er, no offense, Smiles, but I really ain’t interested in trying the cannibal diet. I’ll save that for you.”
“Oh, pish posh.” Alastor waved a hand like he was waving Angel’s concerns away. “He has animal meat as well and he’s very clean so he doesn’t cross contaminate. I get all of my meat from him, including the things I’ve cooked for all of you. I trust him.”
Well… to have the trust of the Radio Demon, Angel supposed he had to be good. And fresh meat would be better than this crap from the grocery store that Angel was sure was past its sell by date even if the packaging claimed it wasn’t. At least it didn’t smell rotten like the last time Angel had gotten meat from the store.
“He could most likely also make your Italian sausage the way you’d like it.” Alastor hummed, watching Angel cut the sausage out of its package.
Angel was silent for a moment before he said, “Write down the address for me.”
“Delightful!” Alastor gave a jovial laugh. “You’ll have to tell me when you plan to go and I’ll accompany you. After all, it’s not the safest for non cannibals to be wandering unescorted through Cannibal Town.”
Angel gave him a small smile, a thrill running down his spine at the idea of going out shopping with Alastor. They could have a really fun time, he thought. Maybe it was an unconventional idea for a day out, going to the butcher and picking out meat together, but honestly, it sounded just perfect to Angel.
“I’d really like that.” He told Alastor with a sincere smile.
Alastor nodded. “It’s a date then.”
Date.
The word clanged through Angel’s head like a gong had just gone off right in his ear. He hadn’t been on a date in… decades. Not a proper date anyway. He and Valentino used to go out all the time to dinner then dancing at the local clubs, and the nights always ended with them fucking each other stupid. Of course, they still did that from time to time, but Angel wouldn’t call them dates anymore. Maybe work trips, as whenever they went to the club together now, it was for Angel to perform. And somehow, the nights still always ended in sex.
But this? Going out shopping with Alastor? And knowing the trip wouldn’t end in Angel being touched and groped the whole car ride home only to get railed so hard he could barely walk the next day, well. It sounded almost too good to be true.
“Angel?”
Angel looked up, having momentarily spaced out and not realizing his hand from frozen on the sausage he held. “Oh, sorry.” He cleared his throat and set the sausage down, turning to grab a knife from the knife block and handing it over to Alastor. “Here, um, chop this as small as you can.”
Alastor nodded and took the knife, switching places with Angel. “Are you quite alright?”
“I’m great.” Angel squeaked, cracking an egg into the mixing bowl with the beef and adding breadcrumbs and spices by eye. He didn’t look at Alastor, already knowing the look he would see on his face, instead choosing to focus on the dish before him.
“Here, is this small enough?” Alastor asked after a long minute of significantly more awkward silence than before. Angel looked up sat the small, perfect cubes Alastor had sliced the sausage into and his jaw unhinged once more.
“Damn, Bambi, how’d you get them so perfectly square like that? I’m fuckin’ impressed.”
Alastor gave a chuckle. “Many years of practice. So, I assume they’re adequate then?”
“Adequate?” Angel scoffed, feeling his shoulders loosen as they fell easily into their earlier banter. “It’s damn perfect. Throw ‘em on in here then you, my demonic friend, get the pleasure of mixing the meat together.”
Alastor lifted the cutting board he’d been working on and swiped the sausage into the bowl with his knife. “I assume that means I’ll be using my hands?”
“Just like Nonna used to.” Angel confirmed with a nod.
Alastor set the knife and cutting board down and, with a sigh, untied his apron so he could slip his overcoat off and shrug out of it, moving to lay it by his microphone, rolling his sleeves up as he walked back to Angel’s side.
God almighty. Angel thought as he watched Alastor fasten his sleeves around his elbows. Big daddy upstairs, if you’re listening to a random sinner in Hell by any chance, I could really use some of that divine intervention right about now, thanks.
Sleeves secured and apron retied, Alastor looked up at Angel who was suddenly very glad he hadn’t had the time to start drooling. “I assume it’s ready?”
Angel gave a quick nod, snapping his mouth shut as he watched Alastor dip red tipped fingers into the bowl of meat and start squishing it around, mixing it all together. Oh, the number of horny thoughts that raced through Angel’s head as he watched Alastor fold the meat in on itself, making sure to get every breadcrumb, spice and slimy bit of egg mixed in was nearly immeasurable. This couldn’t be legal, could it? Could Angel call the police on Alastor for giving him too many horny thoughts?
Were there even police in Hell? He’d never actually bothered to check honestly.
This went on for far longer than it really had any right to and soon enough, Alastor was resting his wrists on the edge of the bowl and looking up at Angel again. “Is this satisfactory?”
Angel had to squeeze his thighs together and take a shaky breath before he could even answer. Those hands, God, he would be dreaming about those hands manhandling him like that meat for days. “Perfect.” Angel said, barely meeting Alastor’s \gaze, his eyes locked on his hands. “Now form them into balls.”
Alastor hummed and stuck his hands back into the meat - Angel was going to need a long, cold shower when this was all over - and formed a small ball about the size of a ping pong ball between them, tossing it back and forth to make the shape right. He held the ball up for Angel’s inspection.
“You call that a meatball?” Angel asked, crossing his arms and giving his head a shake so he could finally look up and meet Alastor’s gaze. “C’mon, that’s pathetic. You’d have to eat, like, ten of those to even get full. I want racquetballs or bigger.”
“Racquetballs? You’ve played racquetball?”
“No.” Angel said. “But trust me, Al, I know my balls.”
Alastor stared at Angel for a minute, looking a bit bewildered before he dropped the ball he’d made back into the meat and scooped more around it, holding up once again for Angel who was already shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it now?” Alastor asked, exasperated.
“It’s too big now, they’ll take forever to cook like that. Here,” Angel pushed his sleeves that had started to slide down his arms back up and stepped up behind Alastor, sliding his upper arms underneath Alastors and grabbing his hands to guide him. “A little off the side here,” He slid his fingers between Alastor’s and pulled off the chunk of meat he wanted gone and carefully tossed the ball between their hands once more. “Like… that.” He breathed, very suddenly realizing exactly what he was doing.
His chest was pressed to Alastor’s back and the deer was standing stiff before him, staring down at their hands like a deer in headlights. Angel took in a sharp breath, the whole scene playing out before him like he was floating above his body and watching all of this happen. Like he wasn’t actually here in this moment, doing the stupid thing he was most definitely doing.
“I- I’m so sorry, I just acted on autopilot again, I-” Angel tried to pull his hands free from Alastor, tried to step back from him to give him space and gave a shocked gasp when Alastor intertwined their fingers, keeping Angel in place.
“I…” Alastor started, and even with that one word, Angel could hear that he’d shut off the filter over his voice. “I’m perfectly fine.” Alastor breathed while Angel held his breath, not wanting to move a muscle in case it sent Alastor fleeing into his shadows.
“Alastor-” Angel started in a whisper, cutting off when Alastor turned his face up to look at him, red eyes wide and searching. Searching for what? Angel couldn’t tell.
The next ten seconds all seemed to happen at once. One second they were staring at each other, both with wide eyes, mouths slightly agape, and the next… The next thing Angel knew was that Alastor’s lips were on his. He was being kissed by the Radio Demon.
He was being kissed by the fucking Radio Demon.
He didn’t even think Alastor knew how to kiss until this very moment. He’d been so steadfast in his disinterest in anyone at the hotel for the past nearly six months they’d all been living together and now, now he was kissing Angel. Right in the middle of the kitchen while both their hands were covered in raw meat.
This couldn’t be happening, right? Maybe this whole day so far had just been a wild fever dream. Angel had felt kind of warm last night, maybe he was really sick in bed and hallucinating.
He was fully willing to let that theory be his explanation when suddenly, Alastor turned to fully face Angel and wrapped his arms around his waist, careful not to let his hands touch Angel’s dress. The spider nearly moaned into the kiss, wrapping his top arms around Alastor’s neck, also careful of his hands, his lower hands grasping at Alastor’s shirt. The kiss deepened, Alastor pushing Angel back until he was pressed against the refrigerator. A small whine left his lips as he was pinned in place and all he could think in that moment was that this was really happening. He was really kissing, and not only that, but being kissed by Alastor.
There was an overwhelming feeling building in Angel’s stomach, working its way up to his chest. It wasn’t the overwhelming horniness he usually felt when he was being grabbed and held and kissed like this, though that was still there and he was trying desperately not to pop a boner right now and ruin the whole thing. But no, this feeling was different. It felt… it felt like that wave of excitement that used to wash over Angel when he and Valentino first met, when he knew he would get to see the moth demon, when he knew Val would hold him and kiss him like no one ever had before. He hadn’t had that feeling with anyone, including Val, in nearly thirty years. Part of him wanted to take the feeling right now and bottle it up and not let it go. Just in case this was some fluke.
Alastor pulled back just a bit from the kiss, his and Angel’s noses still rubbing together, sharing breath as they both panted. Alastor’s eyes fluttered open and Angel stared half lidded down at him. “Well,” Angel breathed. “That was… unexpected.”
Alastor gave a soft laugh and met Angel’s gaze, opening his mouth to say something-
“Buck, buck, buck, buck, buGAWK!”
“ Che cazzo!? ” Angel cursed, startled by the sudden noise breaking through the bubble that had seemingly formed around him and Alastor as they’d kissed.
Alastor went wide eyed at the noise and glanced over. “The bread pudding.” He said, eyes locked on the chicken timer that started clucking again as they stood there.
“Buck, buck, buck, buck, buGAWK!”
“I thought Charlie said that thing made a cute clucking noise.” Angel huffed as Alastor pulled away to the sink to wash his hands off. “That’s a horrible noise! Is that what chickens sound like?”
Alastor chuckled and wiped his hands dry before turning to the counter and shutting off the chicken just as it started to cluck again. “Yes, that is what chickens sound like. Have you never been around chickens before?” The radio filter slipped back into place as Alastor spoke and Angel almost missed the sound of his real voice.
“No, I’m a city kid. Ain’t many - or any from what I remember - chickens wandering around the Big Apple.”
With a hum, Alastor slipped on a pair of oven mitts and made quick work pulling the bread pudding out of the oven. The smell hit Angel a second later and he moaned as lewdly as he could muster, trying anything to hide how unbearably horny he actually was right now. “Fuck, that smells incredible.”
“It will need to cool before we can have any.” Alastor said as he set his oven mitts aside. “Wouldn’t want to burn your tongue.”
“Oh there’s a lot of things I’m thinking about doing with my tongue-” Angel muttered under his breath, swallowing hard and saying louder. “Alastor? Um, did- did that really just happen? The whole…” He gestured lamely with his lower hands, top hands still covered in raw meat.
“The kiss?” Alastor asked, nonchalant as ever.
“Yeah, that.”
“Mm, yes, I believe it did.”
“Oh.” Angel said, feeling stupid. “Good. Um, right? Good?”
For a split second, Alastor looked a bit unsure. Then Angel blinked and he looked like his normal self again. “Did you think it was good, cher?”
Boy did that feel like a bit of a loaded question. Angel shifted his feet a bit and finally pushed away from the fridge, over to the sink to wash his hands off. “Yeah.” He said while he scrubbed. “I thought it was really good.”
“Well, that’s… very good then.”
Angel wiped his hands on the towel, eyebrows furrowed as he turned to Alastor again. “Do you think… and you can say no, but do you think maybe we could… do that again? Not now, if you don’t want to, but… sometime. Whenever.” Angel was fidgeting with the towel in his hands, a nervous habit he’d had since he was alive. It was his biggest tell, according to Husk. Whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable, he would ring his hands or fiddle with whatever was within reach.
It took a long minute for Alastor to respond and Angel refused to look up at him while he waited. He couldn’t watch Alastor think about saying no. He couldn’t stand the thought of that word leaving his soft, gentle lips.
God, he was so fucked .
“Yes.”
Angel’s head shot up and he went wide eyed as he looked at Alastor, who was standing only a couple feet away now, still hovering by the bread pudding, looking about as nervous as Angel felt. “Yes?” Angel asked, almost in disbelief.
Alastor nodded. “Yes. I think I would like to kiss you again.”
Angel felt his face go warm and he nodded shyly, a smile twitching up his lips. “Okay.”
They stood there for another minute, sharing soft smiles before Alastor guided their attention back to the meatballs they still had to finish making. And this time, when Angel stepped up behind Alastor and slid his arms around him to help him form the perfect sized balls, the deer didn’t stiffen or stop him. Instead, he held Angel’s hands as they worked, smiling softly to himself while they lined a greased tray - magically snapped in by Alastor - with meatballs.
“How long do these cook for?” Alastor asked as they finished making the last meatball.
Angel hummed in thought. “They’re kinda big, so thirty minutes should do it.”
“Ah, plenty of time.” Alastor said with a nod, moving to go wash his hands once more.
“Plenty of time… for what?” Angel asked, stepping up to the sink with Alastor and washing his hands again as well.
Alastor didn’t answer, instead he dried off his hands, handed the towel off to Angel and gave a snap, several little shadowy creatures popping into the kitchen with them. “Put these,” Alastor gestured to the tray of meatballs, “in the oven for thirty minutes, and while they cook, clean up this mess.”
The little shadows that Angel knew couldn’t speak, all nodded and saluted Alastor and immediately got to work as he placed one hand on Angel’s back and guided him out of their way. “Well, that’s handy, but I don’t mind cleaning up my own mess, Smiles.”
“And I quite admire that about you. However, I think there is a far better way you and I could spend the thirty minutes those meatballs need to cook.”
Angel’s eyes went wide as he was pulled to a stop and pressed up against the wall, gentle hands on his waist holding him in place. “O-oh, Alastor, I didn’t know ya had it in ya. I mean, I knew you were a smooth mother fucker, but I didn’t know that applied to this side of ya as well.”
Alastor only hummed his confirmation, his ever permanent smile softening as he looked up at Angel before he leaned up just enough to brush their lips together in a soft kiss that had Angel’s head reeling.
He wanted to throw out a big middle finger to his dad, who would have an utter cow if he could see his son now. He wanted to tell his asshole older brother to go dunk his head in a freezing river. He wanted to tell Val to go fuck himself over and over again. He wanted to forget the rest of the world and focus solely on the demon in his arms right now because right now, for the first time in years, decades even, despite everything…
In Alastor’s arms, Angel Dust was truly happy.