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“Oh, Alastor!” Rosie calls out as she steps into the hotel lobby. It’s pretty empty, with the only visitor there being Angel Dust, who glances over in interest when she calls out.
Alastor materialises in front of her a moment later, that charming smile on his lips. He’s dressed in the suit Rosie had gifted him, for once. He looks stunning in it, as he always does. Rosie grins at him.
“Finally changed suits, hmm? This one suits you better,” she comments affectionately, stepping closer and absently running her hands over Alastor’s shoulders.
The suit is a nice pink one with a slight corset effect- oh, how Rosie just adores corsets- that tightens Alastor’s waist enough to make him look delicious.
“Yes, I figured I would put some effort in when you were coming over to visit,” Alastor responds pleasantly. “Like you did. Beautiful, as always, my love.”
Alastor reaches for Rosie’s hand and brings it to his lips, gently pressing a kiss to the bare skin there. Rosie’s smile only widens.
“Aww, ya charmer!” She responds brightly as Alastor pulls away again. She pats her dress down- a pretty white one, paired with a black corset she’s decorated with bones.
“Shall we go to my room?” Alastor’s eyes pointedly drift over to their audience, consisting only of Angel Dust, then return to Rosie. Her eyes glint in amusement.
“I suppose so,” she agrees, letting Alastor take her hand to guide her through the hotel.
It’s a pretty thing, Rosie thinks, even though the red might get a little bit monotone after a while. She’s sure Alastor must love it, though, with how he’s practically obsessed with anything red.
They eventually reach Alastor’s room. They passed a woman in the halls with white hair that had looked at them curiously but hadn’t said anything. Alastor had informed her that that woman was Vaggie, Charlie Morningstar’s girlfriend and one of the hotel workers. She seemed nice!
Alastor opens the ornate wooden door, letting Rosie step in first. His room is halfway normal- a bed, a desk, and a closet- and the other looks like a swamp. Rosie assumes that the forest area is meant to resemble the area he lived in when he was still alive, or perhaps it’s just to satiate the more deer-like instincts he now has.
Rosie makes her way over to the bed, with Alastor following behind her after closing and locking the door. She pats the clean sheets, then folds her hands in her lap, a small smirk on her lips as she looks up at Alastor.
“Would you like some tea?” Alastor offers, oblivious to Rosie’s intentions but trying to make her visit as good as he can.
“Mmh, no need,” she responds dismissively, which only earns her an affirming hum, “I’m not here for tea.”
Alastor mills around the room for a little longer. Rosie never comes to visit the hotel, so it’s understandable why he seems a little… on edge, perhaps.
She crosses her legs.
“Quit your pacin’, pumpkin, and come sit down,” she insists, patting the spot beside her on the bed. Alastor’s ears pin back just slightly at being ordered around, even though he’s used to it. Rosie does own his soul, after all, and he obediently walks over and sits down next to her.
Rosie pulls him in for a kiss a moment later, her fingers grabbing the collar of his suit.
Alastor makes a startled noise into the kiss before he accepts it, some of the tension in his body melting away.
Rosie pulls away after a few seconds, smiling at the way Alastor looks back at her. She moves, pushing Alastor backwards until he’s laid back, propped up against the massive pillows pressed against the headboard.
“Relax, darling,” Rosie hums, one hand still holding onto Alastor’s collar to prevent him from moving away.
Alastor’s clawed fingers grab at the blankets around them.
“...is this why you are visiting today?” he asks, his voice still slightly breathy.
“To help you relax?” Rosie chuckles in response, leaning in until their lips are ghosting over each other. “That is indeed why, my darling.”
Alastor exhales shakily, then leans up to press their lips together again. His kisses are always so soft, almost hesitant- like he still doesn’t quite know how to kiss her properly.
She’d think he would’ve learned by now, but it’s endearing that he’s still so hesitant, so clueless.
She indulges him, nonetheless.
Alastor eventually pulls away, having to catch his breath, looking up at Rosie with those pretty, glittering red eyes.
Rosie’s smile softens and she reaches up one hand to cup his face, “Turn around.” She shifts back, getting off Alastor’s lap to allow him space to move.
Alastor obediently turns around, now laying on his stomach on the pillows. They’re fluffy and quite comfortable, leaving him to melt into them. That’s the only good design choice Charlie really has made- the large beds, the large pillows. Rosie sits on his legs, forcing them together. She doesn’t weigh much at all and Alastor knows he could kick her off if he wanted to.
Rosie’s hands brush over his shoulders before she gently grabs him, her fingers digging into his shoulders and beginning to massage him. She rubs over the tense muscles, rolling them under her fingers.
“You’re so tense,” she comments. Alastor squirms, stifling a content sigh into the pillows. “Relax, darlin’.”
Easier said than done.
Alastor shifts again, not knowing what to do with his hands. He ends up just curling them into the sheets. Rosie chuckles from above him, rubbing her thumbs against the tense muscles, slowly, slowly working the painful knots out from them.
He doesn’t pay much mind to how tense he always is, how highly strung he is most of the time. He has an image to maintain, after all.
Alastor begins to melt into the pillows after a few minutes, the touch slowly turning more relaxing than painful. Rosie’s hands move downwards, massaging his back, then his lower back, slowly but surely rubbing more and more knots away until she’s satisfied.
Sometime during the process, she’d turned on the nearby radio and put on some jazz tunes. Alastor has closed his eyes and is now dozing off against the pillows, lulled into a state between conscious and asleep by the touch and the music.
“Alastor? Darlin’?”
Alastor grunts in response, confirming he can hear her. His ears angle back- not out of aggression or discomfort, but to hear her better.
“We should do this more often, don’t ya think?” She teases, hands now returning to Alastor’s shoulders, rubbing over the clothes. They’re slightly rustled, disheveled, if you want to call it that.
“I… suppose.” Alastor sighs, shifting to un-muffle his voice, turning his head to the side. He blinks a little at suddenly being exposed to the light.
“Oh, don’t act so coy with me,” Rosie chuckles, one hand lightly stroking over the fur of his small, wagging tail, “I can tell that you’re enjoying it, pumpkin.”
Alastor huffs, “You know that is sensitive,” he grumbles in response, ears pinning back slightly.
“Mmh, well aware,” Rosie responds calmly, continuing to stroke the fur. Alastor mumbles his complaints into a pillow.
“Aww, don’t be so grumpy with me darling. You know you love it,” She adds on, leaning down to press a light kiss to the back of his head.
And despite Alastor’s need for acting nonchalant, he can’t help but agree with her.