Work Text:
Days at the Hazbin Hotel were always eventful. From group therapy sessions to lessons on boundaries that Charlie taught, but never absorbed herself, every waking hour was filled with activities. Her weekly escapades around Hell joined by Vaggi were always celebrated by the residents of the hotel. That very much included Baxter.
That morning, he had woken up feeling a little sluggish, but upon the reminder of the day, he had hopped out of bed, fully prepared to try a new experiment on the rats at the hotel. Niffty had done him the favour of catching them for him unprompted, though she probably thought it was a true gift rather than something he would use for a lab experiment.
He used the blunt end of his forceps to gently poke a particularly large rat in its cage, watching it clamber about anxiously. Baxter dropped the instrument after a moment of observation and leaned back in his chair, groaning. His brain was moving at an infuriatingly slow pace today, and he couldn’t stand it even a second longer.
“Baxter!!” Niffty suddenly cried from above, rushing down the ladder to his lab. She jumped down the last few rungs as she continued to call out. “Baxter! Baxter! Baxter!”
He removed his rubber black gloves, raising an eyebrow as he tossed them into the nearby trashcan, “Yes?”
“Roach play!” she panted. “Upstairs. Now!”
He smirked, bemused, “Excuse me?”
She waited until catching her breath before speaking this time. “I’m putting on a roach play, and you have to come!!” Niffty slowly stepped over to him, teasingly trailing a finger down his chest as she purred out. “You’re my guest of honour.”
Baxter flinched away from her touch. His binder may hide a lot of things, but it did not hide everything. He swivelled around in his chair to hide his reaction, “I have work to do.”
She grabbed his wrist, pushing out her bottom lip, “But I worked so hard on it! And you haven’t gotten to see any of my shows yet!”
The bio-engineer looked between the rat in the cage and her before sighing, and placing the lid back on the glass box. Then, he stood. Niffty cheered, already scampering up to the ground floor of the hotel.
“See you soon!” she crooned gleefully.
Two minutes later, Baxter emerged from his room and entered the lobby. There was a total of four chairs set in front of a very small makeshift stage. Only one of them was occupied, which held that drunk bartender and the strange-legged pink person on his lap.
He sat as far away from them as he possibly could.
Before long, Niffty, who was plopped on the floor behind the set, spoke, “In just a few minutes, our show, ‘Roachio and Juliroach’ will soon begin. Please remain seated, and the only flash allowed is that of menacing kitchen knives!!”
Tall and Fluffy clapped with vigor, sprouting his third pair of arms to join his other two. Under him, Grey and Grumpy, gave a slow applause, but his mouth twitched upward.
“Please,” she said, clearly flattered. “Hold your applause until after the show.” She waited until they both stopped before speaking again. “And, without further ado, let our play commence.” There was the shuffling of papers. “Uhhh, also we have a special guest.”
Tall and Fluffy wolf-whistled at Baxter, winking.
The show went well all things considered. There was a brief intermission halfway through in which Niffty had stabbed the already-dead corpses of the supporting cast members before continuing the play without them. Then, as both of the leads died, she stabbed them too.
The only real problem Baxter had with watching the play was the sudden discomfort in his belly. Every slight shift sent a jolt of pain coursing through his abdomen, but somehow, staying still was worse. He felt like he was one of the roaches with the knife in him.
As he finished clapping, watching Niffty leave to wash her hands — and knife — off, he glanced down at his trousers. It wasn’t a surprise when he saw a brown blotch on them, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting. His tummy twisted. At the very least he was able to rest easy knowing that his pants were dark and that, even if they weren’t, his lab coat was long enough to cover his crotch.
Niffty came bounding into the lobby soon after, her skin scrubbed free from the dried roach bits. She went straight over to Baxter just as he stood.
“How was it? Did I do good? That was my first show at this new hotel. Charlie said people might be scared by it, but she’s not here right now, so she doesn’t need to know. Plus, I’m the one who always cleans, and you would not *believe* the mess some of the new demons make. They honestly should be praising what I put up with around here.”
Baxter, despite himself, smiled, “It was lovely, Niffty. Thank you for making me your guest of honour.”
She beamed in return, “Thanks, Baxter!!”
His expression faltered as he shifted on his feet once more. Niffty took notice of it immediately.
“Is something wrong? Oh no… It was bad, wasn’t it?”
Baxter gave a strained smile, “No. It was great. I’m just feeling… not my best. Probably just tired is all.”
“You don’t feel well?” Niffty asked, taking his hand in hers.
He took his hand back, nervously rubbing it, “Maybe not.” He could feel how heavy his bleed was, and it was becoming more unpleasant by the second.
Her eye suddenly lit up with an idea, “Oh! I have just the thing to help you! Follow me.” The maid suddenly began scuttling away. It took him a moment to process before he ran to catch up with her.
“Niffty, where are we going?” Baxter panted out just as his thighs began to burn. Niffty may be small, but she was surprisingly fast, especially considering the length of her own legs.
“My supplies closet!” she cried, screeching to a halt in front of the door at the end of a hallway. Hopping in place from foot to foot, she opened the door and ushered him in. He gulped as he entered the darkness, the esca on his antenna providing a light too dull to make out the details of the closet with.
Niffty flipped a switch the moment the door was securely shut, engulfing the room in light. For a closet — if he could even call it that; the space was large enough to be considered a small bedroom — that was meant to be brimming with cleaning supplies, it had surprisingly little amount. There was only a corner with a sad broom and mop set sat alongside various bottles of mysterious chemicals.
The rest of the room was filled with a number of sex toys. Vibrators, collars, gags, and dildos hung from hooks on every wall. Somewhat less mysterious liquids were crowded together on a small shelf in a corner. Baxter suddenly really hoped that Niffty at least washed her hands between her use of cleaning chemicals and all of her other belongings. In the third corner was a small bed. An assortment of knives hung on the wall above it, glinting maliciously.
A neon pink strap-on dildo caught Baxter’s eye, causing him to think of the twisting in his gut once more. The stain on his pants burned a hole against his skin.
“This is where my bad boys go to get punished,” Niffty purred in his ear, hand on his shoulder. He jumped back, hair on end.
“What?” she asked innocently at his reaction. “I promise it’ll make you feel better. This always makes bad boys feel special.” She wasn’t hiding how hard she was scanning the wall for a proper tool for Baxter.
“Niffty, no,” he said, swivelling his head from side to side in shock and near horror. He didn’t know where he could look in the room that wouldn’t assault his eyes.
She set down the leash she had selected to smooth back his hair, “No? Are you being defiant now?”
He pushed her hand away in disgust, shaking his head vehemently, and strode toward the door. In only a moment, Baxter had exited and the door slammed shut. He raced to the nearest bathroom in the hotel. Sex was the absolute last thing he needed right now, especially if it meant having to explain his situation to Niffty.
The public restrooms in the lobby of the hotel were spacious and welcoming with bronze and white tiled floors. They always had fancy-scented air fresheners in them, compliments of Vaggie, and never seemed to run out of toilet paper or fresh hand towels, which was all Niffty’s doing.
Despite this, Baxter didn’t have the time to notice much of the room. Once the door was locked, he slid to the floor and curled up. His uterus clenched at the movement, causing him to wince.
Of course the only day he got to really spend with Niffty out of the week was the one day out of the whole month that his period started.
Baxter struggled out of his wet goggles and threw them across the room. They bounced off a wall before finally ending with an inch-long slide across the tiled floor.
After spending a few minutes readying himself, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pants, catching his pair of boxer-briefs with it. He slid them down inch-by-inch, until he caught sight of his underwear. A lump formed in his throat. The fabric was completely ruined, and it wasn’t like Baxter could just grab a tampon. There wasn’t even a goddamn cabinet to look through in the room. He slumped, sobbing into his knees.
“Baxter?” he heard Niffty’s voice call through the door. “Are you in there?”
He hastily grabbed a few squares of toilet paper to wipe his face with, hoping they'd make him sound less tearful, but they soon shredded in his hands. Two-ply. Just great. Another bout of tears fought their way past his lashes.
“Baxter?” she worriedly called again.
He cleared his throat, trying his best to hide that he was very obviously crying, “Yeah?”
Her voice brightened noticeably at his response, “Oh, good, you are in there.” There was a slight pause. “But why?”
Baxter laughed awkwardly, “What do you mean?”
Niffty cleared her throat awkwardly, “It’s just that you’re in the women’s room.”
“Niffty…” he began cautiously. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Um, I think the one with the dress is a girl. That’s what Charlie told me when I kept trying to sneak in with the bad boys,” the maid confessed, confused as ever.
Shit, shit, shit. He looked around. Pink hand towels. Pink soap platter. Pink air freshener. Everything was pink. He really had gone into the women’s restroom. Baxter curled up tighter, whimpering. After spending so much time trying to get used to his new ability of passing, he still had to subconsciously torment himself!
“Baxter?”
Niffty’s fingers were just slim enough to slide under the door and have her fingertips peak out on the other side. She took advantage of that now, reaching out for him. He scooted away from the door.
“Are you mad at me?”
He shook his head slowly after a moment, “No. I’m not mad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Niffty, it really isn’t that big of a deal.”
“But you’re crying,” she observed sadly.
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
He went silent at that. He was a liar. He had always been a liar. To himself, and his family, and to everyone else.
“If it’s not me, then what’s wrong? Is it because you're sick?” There was a thunk against the wood of the door. Her forehead.
Baxter shook his head, “No, Niffty. It’s… I’m not really sick.”
“Then, what’s wrong?” she asked.
He only wept harder at the question. As silly and pompous that Pentious had been, he always knew what to do.
*“Lay down, my sssssweeet,” he would cry, hood flaring out as he kissed Baxter’s cheek. “I’m here! I’ll take care of you! What issss it you need?”*
At the lack of a response, she tried again, “Can I come in?”
Without speaking, he hit the doorknob with his elbow just hard enough for the lock to pop out. Niffty scurried in a moment later, quickly closing the door behind herself.
The spot of floor he had settled back onto was cold against Baxter’s bare skin, but that became the least of his worries when he saw the concerned expression on the smaller demon’s face. She plopped onto the tiles beside him and crawled closer.
How stupid she must see him. Shredded toilet paper all over his hands, his face red and puffy, and his pants halfway down his thighs. Baxter was wholly prepared to watch Niffty just walk out without another word before he felt a cheek against his. She hadn’t even looked at his lower half yet.
“You look so sad. I’m sorry I made you so sad.”
He gave a watery laugh, returning her nuzzle, “It’s not you.”
“Then why-” Finally her eye landed on his underwear. “Oh, no! You’re all bloody! What happened?” She looked between his face and his underwear. He turned his back to her. Niffty pulled his hand back and began peeling the toilet paper off it, forming a small heap on the floor.
“My period started,” he reluctantly spat out just as she finished with his first palm.
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't ask the question Baxter was expecting her to ask, “When? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped! Goodness, you’re so messy. Let me help clean you up!”
She jumped up from the floor and grabbed the hand towel from its rack, wetting it with warm water and skipping back over. Throughout the task she spoke, “I’m glad it’s just your period. I thought someone punished you too hard and I’d have to set everything straight again.” She carefully avoided looking between his legs as she handed him the cloth.
The way she thought his period was nothing was a crazy thing for him to think about, but it made his shoulders sag in relief. Baxter’s eyes softened as he took the cloth from her, turning away to clean himself properly. After a moment, he spoke, “I thought you might not like me anymore.”
She scoffed, “Oh, please. I like bad *boys,* not their dicks! Who do you take me for?”
He let out a surprised laugh at that, bent over himself with the towel in his hand. He tossed the towel to the floor with a wet ‘thwap’ a minute later. After another pause, he spoke, “Thanks.”
Niffty grinned victoriously. Then, she unexpectedly pulled Baxter’s pants up, and scooped him into her arms. The angler fish squeaked with indignance as he was placed on her shoulder.
“Niffty! What are you-”
“Taking you to your room, silly! It’s time you get dressed and in bed! I bet you feel so icky!”
He squirmed, as she opened the door and scuttled toward the basement, “I. Can. Walk!”
“Nope!”
Niffty didn’t let him go until she could dump him onto his bed. He stared up at her smile, groaning in frustration.
“Stay right there!” she commanded before clambering back up the ladder. She returned only a minute later with a heating pad and several bars of chocolate.
“Don’t worry!” she panted. “I made sure to bring both kinds.”
Baxter ignored the chocolate, suspecting that the ‘both’ wasn’t in reference to milk versus dark chocolate. He greedily took the heating pad from her hands and plugged it into the nearest electrical outlet, adjusting the settings once it switched on.
“Now, now, mister,” Niffty admonished, a hand on her hip. “I know you’re not trying to relax in that filthy underwear. Go change.” She pointed across the room, frowning.
Baxter grumbled, but hauled himself out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing a tampon from his desk drawer as he did. When he returned, in a baggy hoodie and a pair of shorts, Niffty was in his bed and under the covers. She didn’t spare a second glance at his chest, though there was an obvious lump there now.
She hummed contentedly, “Comfy, but it’d be better with you here.”
Baxter smiled, and slid into bed with her, “Why are you like this?” The moment his body hit the mattress, her arms were around his waist, carefully settling the heating pad on his lower abdomen.
Niffty grinned against his neck, before kissing his jaw. They both blushed.
“You don’t like it?” she asked.
“Well,” Baxter sighed. “I never said that.”
Niffty beamed.