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Alastor held out his hand, the spider shooting him an appreciative glance as they got out of the car.
Angel dust’s heels clacked as he moved to stand beside his smaller coworker on the sidewalk, putting both sets of hands on his hips.
“Thanks for the good time, handsome.” He purred, leaning on the roof of the car. Wiggling his chest fluff purposely, their customer’s eyes dragged along the figure hungrily.
Alastor tried to ignore his own as best as possible, finding the way it shaped his silhouette incredibly insulting.
Angel Dust didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, using them to his advantage as much as possible. Alastor even caught the younger demon storing papers in the fur, which he had reprimanded Angel Dust for.
Not only was it incredibly unsanitary, but the integrity of the documents could be damaged- god knows what else Angel had in there.
His advice fell on deaf ears most of the time, being shut down with a snarky “‘Kay DAD.”
Alastor generously put up with the disrespect, partly because Angel Dust was the best partner he could be assigned while on the job.
While Angel Dust usually serviced, Alastor focused on simply kissing and giving hickeys along the body.
He hated doing both, but it was infinitely better than putting his face anywhere between the legs.
If he was lucky, the person wouldn’t mind if he took some blood in the process. Most in Hell were some sort of sadist or masochist, so that possibility was more often than not.
Valentino usually didn’t care if he soloed or not, as long as he brought back money. So, when Alastor could, he brought Angel along.
The chap could even be good company, and very obviously saw Alastor as somewhat of a parental presence.
Alastor reasoned he must’ve had an atrocious home-life while on earth, because nobody in their right mind would see him as anything of the sort.
“See ya around, sluts.” The thoroughly pleased demon shot them finger guns, and slapped the back of the front seat.
The car door shut, and the driver pealed out of the street, taking a turn and disappearing into the trashy urban hellscape.
Angel Dust rolled his eyes, and combed his hands through voluminous hair. “Charmin’, ain’t he?”
A laugh track played, and Alastor’s grin widened. “I do believe he won’t be seeing us around!”
Angel dust cocked a brow, and fished out a pack of cigarettes from his chest.
Really, Alastor needed to know if there was some sort of pocket dimension hidden there.
“Let me guess; ya gonna kill him after Val lets us off.” Angel popped one in his mouth, and held out another to Alastor.
Alastor graciously accepted, the bitter taste of smoke better than curdled sweat and disgust lying heavily on his tongue.
Snapping his fingers, he summoned a small flame and lit the cancer stick, before reaching up and doing the same for Angel’s.
“Thanks,” The spider replied, and balanced it on his swollen lips.
Alastor nodded, and took a deep drag. “I don’t have the faintest idea where you come up with these wild accusations, dear.”
Angel cackled, pushing on Alastor’s shoulder playfully. “You’re such an asshole, ya know?”
Alastor teasingly glared up at him, and drew the cigarette back between his index and middle.
“No! It never occurred to me while I was burying my latest victim in the bayou!” He exclaimed, filtered voice thick with sarcasm.
“Ugh. The fuckin’ swamp. I don’t know how you dragged a whole ass dead dude through that shit.” Angel shook his head, puffing smoke out through his sharp teeth.
“Well, he wasn’t quite whole by the time I was done with him!”
“Goddamnit, Al. There’s so much better things to eat.”
“Anthony, the Great Depression would beg to differ.” Alastor deadpanned.
Angel Dust snorted. “Thats right. I forget yer an old-ass man.”
“I don’t quite appreciate the tone, young man.”
Angel Dust laughed again, and Alastor’s smile could’ve, perhaps, brightened at the spider’s amusement.
The gritty sound of tires rolling to a stop ruined the warm, comfortable atmosphere they had fostered.
Back to work, it seemed.
Angel looked discouraged at the thought too, sighing as he flicked the half-burned cigarette to the curb.
Alastor dropped his, and crushed it underneath polished cherry hooves.
He looked up, finding a familiar glossy limousine parked somewhat haphazardly.
The relief that rushed through him was comical. His face remained impassive, but internally he was euphoric at any opportunity to not do work.
Charlie rolled down the driver’s window, waving excitedly. That would explain the parking job.
“Alastor! Hi!” She bubbled with a wide smile, almost rivaling his own.
“Who da fuck is this?” Angel mumbled behind him, leaning down.
Alastor promptly ignored him, and instead strolled over to the Princess.
Hands snapped primly behind his back again, Alastor dipped his head in greeting.
“Ah, Princess! What a lovely surprise!” Alastor returned, ears flicking at Angel’s groan of annoyance.
“Is this your friend?” Charlie asked, big, glittering rubies focusing over his shoulder.
Alastor was tempted to pretend he was none the wiser of Angel, if only to see the spider’s outrage.
The spider butted in before he had the chance, unfortunately eliminating that entertaining turn of events. “I’m Angel Dust. Me and Alasta’ go way back.”
He strutted to the deer’s side, propping his elbow against the automobile and draping himself across the door. “Who are you, toots?”
Charlie was practically vibrating with joy. “Oh my gosh! I am so happy to meet you! I’m so glad Alastor has such good friends!”
She opened the door and quickly hopped out, holding her hand and starting to ramble.
“You’re so gorgeous by the way! You need to tell me how you and Al met, I’m sure it’s SO ADORABLE! Also, do you want to exchange numbers? I need to get my nails done soon and I-“
Alastor cut her off with a pat to the head. “Charlie, darling, let’s not overwhelm poor Angel, hm?”
Angel Dust perked up at that. He gave Alastor a look, something glinting in those bi-colored eyes that Alastor couldn’t place.
Suspiciously, Alastor held the glance, mentally trying to dissuade Angel from doing something that would warrant strangling.
“Oh, THIS is Charlie,” Angel cooed, and shook her hand with a lower arm.
He pushed himself off of the car, and tossed his head back with a smug grin. “Alasta’ here has told me so much about you.” Angel continued, towering into the woman’s personal space.
Alastor decided that Angel did warrant strangling.
With an obnoxious laugh, he inserted his hands between the two, and pushed them apart to a respectable distance.
Charlie, none the wiser of the absolutely scathing expression on Alastor’s face, clung to every word. “Really?! I’m happy to hear that! All good things, I hope!” She clasped her hands in front of her, and side-eyed Alastor.
Innocently, he opted for a charming grin. “Obviously, dear.”
Dark red blotched her face, and Charlie stuttered out an offer. “O-Ok! Well, I actually came because I wanted to invite you to lunch! But obviously Angel is welcome to join as well! In fact, I’ll change the reservation to a booth!”
She whipped out an infernal device- he recalled it being dubbed a flip phone- and started dialing a number.
Alastor dared to focus on Angel, finding the spider looking insufferably puffed up, and wiggling his eyebrows at him.
He knew it was a bad idea to confide in Angel about his plan. The spider had falsely claimed after his retelling of the first meeting that he had flirted with her- so obviously he must fancy her.
Alastor’s reaction then was the same now. Vehemently trying to tell Angel he was being ridiculous. The spider had a penchant for being cosmically irritating, so he clung to this delusion.
“Alright! We’re good! How does Chinese sound?” Charlie broke the staring contest, and Alastor’s record screeched.
He wasn’t startled, just caught a little off-guard, that’s all.
“Sound’s lovely doll. You gotta pay by the hour, though.” Angel purred. Alastor composed himself with a brush to his pinstriped coat.
Charlie, without missing a beat, took out a laughably large wad of cash from her pocket, and dumped it in Angel’s hand.
“Is that good?” She bit her painted lips with a worried furrow to the brow.
Clapping played out on Alastor’s ambient sounds, and he grinned wider. “Yes, that should be sufficient!”
Charlie gave them a thumbs up. “Cool beans.”
She re-entered the driver’s seat, and motioned to the back. “Hop in! There’s some whiskey in there, you can help yourself!”
It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. “Shit, you got liqua?” Angel’s eyes widened, and he practically dove for the door.
Alastor rolled his eyes, and followed in a much more graceful manner, shutting the door behind him as he crawled into the spacious interior.
He had been in it multiple times already, as Charlie and he went on frequent outings when he was free.
Angel looked absolutely starry eyed at the luxury, and whistled at Alastor while he settled across from the spider.
“Yer girl is loaded,” He whispered quickly, before leaning to the small, built in booze counter squeezed between the leather seats.
Alastor’s static thickened momentarily.
“What?” Charlie asked cheerfully, looking through the small window that connected to the front.
“Tally-ho, I say!” Alastor supplied hastily. Angel’s snickers pressed his ears further against his head than they already were, and it took all his willpower not to jump across and just wring the young man’s neck.
No, that wouldn’t be very good manners, especially in front of a lady.
“Angel, I’m warning you only once.” Alastor muttered as he crossed his legs smartly, straightening his back to proper posture.
Angel already had three shots lined up in his hands, with one holding a bottle of Fireball.
“Have no fear, Al. I’ll be the best wingman evah’ for yer date!”
“For the up-tenth time-“
“Who wants some Katy Perry?!” Charlie squealed, and flicked on the stereo.