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Bottoms Up!

Summary:

Angel Dust and Alastor try a few choice drinks

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Another hard day at the studio, another night that would not be long enough to really rest and recover. Angel yawned as he entered the hotel, yet instead of making for the staircase and his room he rummaged in the fridge for a popsicle and went to sit at the bar. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep, it was just that sleeping meant the day was truly over and another one would follow and Angel didn’t want to think about that just now. Truth be told, he didn’t want to think about anything so he propped his chin on one hand and savored his popsicle as he watched Husk clean glasses with his back to him, probably pretending Angel wasn’t there. This went on for several minutes until Husk ran out of glasses and finally turned around to face Angel.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Husk grunted.

“That an invitation?” Angel winked.

Husk ignored him. “You look like shit.” He tilted his head as if the angle could be the reason for this. “More than usual, that is.”

“Thanks, daddy. Me, myself an’ I were dyin’ ta know.”

“And don’t forget me!” Alastor said, seemingly materializing out of the shadows. Husk couldn’t entirely conceal he was startled. 

“Hey, Smiles.” Angel lifted his head and ran his hands through his hair almost unconsciously to smooth it out. “Care ta join us?” He asked, half expecting the Radio Demon to refuse, more than half hoping he wouldn’t.

Alastor looked at him as if the question was a particularly hard one; he nodded and sat down beside Angel. “Why the popsicle?”

Angel froze. He could explain it was a sort of comfort for him, the coolness and the sweetness, especially on days such as this, but just the memory made him flinch so instead he leaned closer to Alastor and slipped into his armor, the flirty and provocative persona that attracted people just as easily as it drew rejection. “I can have more than one thing in my mouth, wanna see?” Angel tipped the popsicle into his mouth. 

“Not particularly, no! I was merely asking because I thought it might be part of one of those extravagant and sugary concoctions you sometimes talk Husk into mixing.”

“Oooooh! That’s a great idea!” Angel clapped his two sets of hands. “Husk! Mix us some fancy cocktails!”

“How about a ‘Fuck no’ and a ‘Go to bed’,” Husk grunted.

“Only if ya follow that up with a ‘Tie Me ta the Bedpost’ and a ‘Kinky Blow Pop’,” Angel said without missing a beat.

“No.” Husk crossed his arms.

“Between the Sheets?”

He sighed. “Since neither of you is actually drinking and I am not going to be mixing atrocities tonight, I’ll leave you to it.” With a minute nod toward Alastor, Husk stepped away from the bar and disappeared up the stairs.

“Boo, Husk!” Angel called after him. 

“Are all of those real drinks?”

Angel swiveled in his stool. “Yeah! Well, not what Husk said but yeah, Kinky Blow Pop, Tie Me ta the Bedpost and Between the Sheets sure are.”

“How quaint. What is in them?” Alastor asked, tapping his nails on his microphone, apparently very interested in suggestively named cocktails. 

“Let’s see… Tie Me ta the Bedpost has melon liqueur, vodka, coconut rum, sweet & sour mix.” Angel counted the ingredients on his fingers. “Oh, an’ a cherry.” He eyed the bottles behind the bar. 

“That makes no sense!” A laugh track filled the air for a second.

“Would ya like ta try it?” Angel went around the bar and started pulling bottles from the shelves. He didn’t bother with exact measures, he just closed one eye and poured while sticking his tongue out for accuracy. He mixed the ingredients and passed Alastor a glass half full of bright green liquid. “There!” Alastor eyed the drink with great suspicion. “Come on, Al, I know you’re dying ta… Tie Me ta the Bedpost!” Angel snickered. He guessed on some level he was scared of Alastor, he would be a fool not to be, but he also… wasn’t afraid of him at all. The Radio Demon had either grown used to Angel’s flirty remarks or he outright knew most of the time Angel didn’t really mean anything by them, not to most people at least; and while they weren’t exactly close friends, Alastor sometimes said something out of the corner of his mouth to make Angel laugh. At least Angel thought those witty quips were for his benefit.

Alastor downed the glass and raised an eyebrow. “Too much!” 

“Been told that.”

“Interesting combination but entirely too sweet. I would not have guessed those ingredients.”

“Wanna try ta guess what’s in Between the Sheets?” Angel laughed. “Other than me.”

“Sheets… bed… bedtime… warm milk? A spiked chamomile infusion?”

“Close!” Angel said while he mixed another drink. “White rum, cognac, triple sec an’ lemon juice. Ta da!” This time he poured the cocktail in two glasses and passed one to Alastor. “Cheers!”

“This one is better.” Alastor nodded. “You are quite at ease behind the bar, you could take Husk’s job.”

Angel shrugged and raised his upper right hand. “Partygoer-slash-Addict. I don’t know much but I know my drinks.” He could own who and what he was but the longer he spent at the hotel the more he believed that was not all he could be, all he wanted to be. Was there something else for him? Maybe…

“Kinky blow pop?” Alastor set his glass down with a loud clink.

“I mean, if ya insist.” Angel threw his head back laughing.

“I dearly hope the ‘blow’ and ‘pop’ refer to some sort of chewing gum rather than any bodily alternative. Explosives would be a nice touch, though!”

Angel snorted. “Sorry ta disappoint ya, it actually is bubble gum or a lollipop. And vodka, pink lemonade, lemon and believe it or not, a drink called Kinky pink liqueur.”

“That cannot possibly exist, you just made that up,” Alastor said, pointing a finger at Angel.

“I would never!” Angel pleaded innocence by raising all his hands. “But apparently Husk does not stock said drink so I will owe ya for the Kinky blow pop.”

“A real shame.”

“But we could always try Sex on the Beach!”

“As long as it does not involve sand… Let me guess, coconut rum again?” 

“Ya’ll see in a minute!” Angel busied himself with the bottles and cocktail shaker and slid a glass over to Alastor. “Bottoms up!” He pointed at himself and stood on tiptoe, laughing.

Alastor swirled the colorful drink in the glass before taking a sip. “Does it have peach?”

“Yup! Vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice and cranberry juice. Anythin’ with peach is a winning combination really.”

“I would not go as far as to call it ‘winning’ but I suppose it is not entirely awful.”

“Don’t worry, Smiles. We can find the right Sex fit for ya. There’s Creamy Sex on the Beach, Hawaiian Sex on the Beach, Sex on Malibu Beach, Sex in the Driveway, Sex in the City an’ I don’t even know how many more.”

“Since you are clearly the authority here, why don’t you pick one?”

“Just one? Most people ask for at least three rounds.” 

“Well, if you can handle that, I promise to keep the pace.”

Angel blinked, momentarily speechless. It was the first time Alastor replied to his innuendos and the funny thing was that the flustered one was him. He laughed and started working on the next drink. “We shall see about that, Mr Overlord!”

Six rounds of Sex–named drinks later, they were laughing, partly slurring their words and partly singing instead of talking. At one point, Alastor conjured up some music out of thin air and they tried to dance. “Tried” being the key word because the only thing they managed was to stumble through a foxtrot, botching every single step but hanging onto each other.

“That was abysmal. Perhaps we should call it a night,” Alastor said, but his smile was all amusement. He led Angel back to the bar.

“Noooo! One more!” Angel complained. They were almost out of glasses, having reused a few of them already, but he was having a good time with Alastor. There was a spark of softness in his eyes, or maybe it was just the cocktails. “We had all the Sex… drinks but we’re still missing somethin’. Come on, Smiles, give us an Orgasm!” 

“I do not believe I can.”

“Oh, don’t sell yaself short.” Angel snickered. “Ya might actually like this one.”

“Does it have coffee?”

“It actually does! Well, coffee liqueur, same difference.” Angel showed him the bottle. “What d’ya say?”

“Fine. Let's have an Orgasm!”

“I like the sound of that!” Angel had to measure everything twice because he kept laughing and spilling the ingredients all over the bar. He finally regained control of his limbs and poured the mix in two old fashioned glasses which both of them downed in two swigs. “That was a messy Orgasm! But that’s the best kind.”

“I’ll take your word for it! Let’s go now, before Husker comes back down and sees everything he has to clean.”

Angel nodded, feeling lightheaded and lighthearted, the day’s troubles behind him not forgotten but relegated to where they didn’t hurt. He had the gnawing suspicion that Alastor had gone out of his way to distract him and this thought–as well as the copious amounts of alcohol he’d ingested–stirred a fondness in him.

“Anything we forgot to try?” Alastor asked as they made their way upstairs.

“There’s one called Blue Angel’s Kiss. An’ I’m not ‘blue’ anymore but here.” Angel bent and kissed Alastor’s cheek.

Notes:

Not a birthday fic but posting it in honor of my favorite sinner's birthday.
Thank you for reading <3