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“Okay, pay close attention to this scene. This here. Anything?”
Alastor made a show of sighing dramatically and moved closer to Angel on the bed as he watched yet another scene from one of Angel’s works. “You mean the umpteenth scene of some muscled brute with a flat personality ravaging you again? Actually, hold on, let me see. I think there is something about this.”
Angel’s eyes widened. His smile as he held the phone up a little closer to Alastor’s face was rather charming, and Alastor reveled in being able to make the otherwise conflicted demon grin like that.
“Yes, absolutely feeling something here: complete and utter confusion about how your boss seems to have a million different settings, characters and scenarios and, yet, one single plot.”
Angel growled and flopped back into the pillow. He had been in the habit of asking Alastor about things like kinks, fetishes, and turn-ons whenever they were alone. When Alastor had explained that he had never felt compelled to explore these things, Angel had proposed a day of lying in bed and “researching.” Apparently, this amounted to Angel showing Alastor various clips of videos he had starred in, to see if anything “spoke” to him.
It had promised to be entertaining the minute Angel had suggested the idea and Alastor found the experience did not disappoint.
“Okay, maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Angel said, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Think back to when you were alive, when you said you were ho-ing around the speakeasies or whatever.”
“Not at all what I said, but continue.”
“Okay, so, what got you from point A to point B?” Angel asked, turning over to his side and watching Alastor intently. “What happened between the thoughts ‘I wanna share a drink with this girl’ and ‘I wanna take off my clothes’?”
“One of two things,” Alastor said, thinking back to those days. “One is I knew who was in her social circles and realized that one night together would ensure word would spread and I would have another few weeks’ peace. The other, more infrequent times, there would be some delightful beauty who would downright lust after everything about me by the end of the night. Quite honestly, that kind of command so willingly given over a person’s mind and body is exhilarating. To have somebody want to relinquish power to you, to trust in your capabilities and desire everything about you so much that they will gladly give you total control? I found that to be quite rewarding. Really, I could take or leave the physical intimacy of the entire experience, but it is an excellent means to feeling that unique rush of dominion so freely given.”
“Okay,” Angel said slowly. “So, we’ll explore that concerning, but also admittedly kinda hot second point in a bit. What exactly do you mean by ‘I would have another few weeks’ peace’?”
Alastor scoffed. How was this not obvious? “I mean that nobody would start gossiping about what all my lack of attention to these things could mean. Anything from how I most likely preferred the company of men—which, no cares to those who do, but absolutely not—to whether or not my entire sense of sanity should be questioned. People gossip and speculate when they realize how broken your basic humanity is, and the less negative attention I attracted, the safer I remained.”
“I’m sorry, how broken your basic humanity is?” Angel said. It confused Alastor why there was a note of horror in his voice as he sat upright and watched him, scowling.
Alastor turned to his side, his smile thin from the irritation at having to explain the obvious that Angel, of all people, should already understand. “Of course. Human beings are supposed to want sex. It’s supposed to be some evolutionary driving force. When I would explain to close friends how it meant next to nothing to me, they were naturally concerned. We could never figure out exactly what was wrong with me, just that something was fundamentally flawed. So we came up with a plan to occasionally seek the attentions of a woman who would let her friends know what happened later, and people would be less inclined to question anything.”
He thought the story would be amusing to Angel. He thought the spider would laugh, making jokes about how much more was wrong with Alastor than just his lack of enthusiasm for sex. What he didn’t expect was for Angel to be looking at him with a look that was both indignant and concerned.
“Al, there’s nothing broken or wrong with you. Being ace is just something that some people are, like being gay or being straight.”
“Being what?” Alastor asked, narrowing his eyes at Angel.
Angel blinked at him for a moment. “Ace? Asexual? Not really interested in sex?”
Alastor tilted his head. “There’s . . . a whole word for this?”
Angel watched him for a moment again. A small, sweet smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Yeah. There’s actually a lot of different ways people feel it. But it doesn’t mean there’s anything fundamentally flawed about you.”
Alastor was not a fan of strong emotions. The lack of control unsettled him in the best scenario. But now, he turned to his back again and faced the ceiling, thinking about what Angel had just told him.
All those times when he was alive . . . when he felt some sort of obligation to the world around him to present himself a certain way. All the times he worried about how people would perceive him—all of it was, in fact, just who he was? Angel preferred men, Husker like everybody and Alastor . . . he preferred none of that, and that was okay? Unlike a lot of the people back in his time, he had never cared about whether somebody preferred their own sex or a different one or more than one. To him, they were always still less strange than him, because at least they preferred someone.
To think he could have lived his entire life never having battled this to begin with. The thought oozed with irritation.
A memory jumped out at Alastor as he thought about all of it: the day he introduced Charlie to Rosie.
“An ace in the hole,” Alastor muttered. “I get it now.”
“I . . . what?” Angel said.
Alastor waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing. So this . . . is just a thing people are?” he asked, turning to face Angel again.
Angel must have seen the internal struggle the information had just incited within Alastor. He laid back down and pressed himself against the Radio Demon, draping one leg over Alastor’s legs and running two hands through Alastor’s hair and gently up to the tips of his ears. The pleasant tingling sensation that only Angel could seem to evoke from that action spread through Alastor, calming his nerves as it always did.
“Yeah. It is. I’m sorry you never knew that. It’s hard feeling like you’re some abomination or something for how you feel about these things.”
Alastor’s smile widened a little. “And the control thing?”
“Yeah, not going to lie, that’s a little more unhinged,” Angel said, drawing a small, soft laugh from Alastor. “But you know . . . I have to admit, also a little kinky. Definitely worth exploring that later.”
“Looking forward to it,” Alastor said, gently touching Angel’s cheek as he leaned in to kiss him.