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Sitting in a café with a scarf wrapped around his head and sunglasses on his face, Angel Dust watched as a red-hooded figure stepped in, the bell on the door ringing out.
Angel sipped his iced coffee, and watched as the person scanned the room, and found him.
Approaching quickly, the red hood was dropped immediately to reveal blonde hair and white skin with bright red cheeks. Angel smiled a little bit, moved the sunglasses onto his head.
“Hi, Angel Dust,” Charlie greeted, opening her arms a little but hesitating.
Angel stood and gave her a brief hug, and she pushed the chair across from his out from the table. “Hey, Charlie.”
Charlie’s eyes were wide and hopeful as she asked him, “How are you doing?”
“Um,” Angel shrugged a little, “about as well as can be expected.”
Charlie nodded, and Angel Dust picked up the pastry he’d ordered, tearing the croissant with his hands. “Yeah, uh- look. You can stop me if you don’t want to hear it- I’m sorry about… everything.”
Angel Dust shook his head, chewed on a small bit of the pastry, “It’s- it’s okay.”
“It really isn’t,” Charlie said, exhaling a heavy sigh, “First of all, I was way too pushy with you. I do believe you deserve to be in heaven, you should already be redeemed, but I should’ve admitted that I didn’t, and still don’t, know how to make it happen. I let Vox get to me and it was selfish.”
Angel gave her a little smile. It probably didn’t reach his eyes fully. “It’s- yeah. That was a little fucked up.”
“More than a little,” Charlie said, “and I will not push you like that again. About anything,” she promised.
Angel smiled a little wider, and popped another piece of croissant into his mouth. “Okay. Uh- thanks, doll. It really does- I appreciate it.”
Charlie took a deep breath again and nodded back at him, “I’m also sorry that- I’m sorry about what Vox did to you, under our roof.”
“You had no idea about that,” Angel said, ripping a larger chunk of the bread in two again.
“Still,” Charlie said, “I’m, at the very least, sorry it happened. You didn’t- you don’t deserve any of this,” she insisted, gently placing a hand on Angel’s wrist.
Bringing his eyes back up to her, Angel shook his head, “It was Vox’s fault. And. Valentino’s- and a little bit mine, since, y’know, wouldn’t be in this mess if I didn’t sign my soul to him.”
“Angel, you made a mistake decades ago, you can’t beat yourself up forever. Valentino chooses to hurt you because he is, at present, a very bad person. I’m sure he could get better eventually, but he clearly has no interest in doing that right now,” Charlie said, voice measured.
Angel blinked at her, then lowered his eyes. “Well. Yeah.”
“You don’t deserve any of this,” Charlie insisted again.
“Thanks,” Angel murmured, eyes back up on his pastry. He stuck the straw from his iced coffee into his mouth and drank.
“Now. Like I said, I won’t push you into anything again,” Charlie said, holding her free hand up to gesture as she spoke, “We miss you at the hotel, and I would love to have you back.”
“I would love to be back,” Angel admitted easily, as low as his voice was. “I just- I don’t know if I could take it. If I-”
Charlie squeezed where her hand was on his wrist, and he looked at her without moving his head. “I think- we have an idea. Or. Well. Okay, so- Alastor told me he should be able to protect you.”
Angel perked up, just slightly, “Oh?”
“Not from Valentino, unfortunately, but, from Vox. He is, as we all know, the strongest Sinner. He said he can scramble the signal, make it so Vox can’t mind control you, and should be able to prevent him from even hurting you again, physically.”
Angel lifted his head, looking a little skeptical. He didn’t want to get his hopes too high, and immediately he was wondering what Alastor might want in exchange for that. Still, it was an appealing idea. He really wished he could go back to the hotel, see Husk and Cherri on a regular basis again. Have Fat Nuggets back. He got daily photos from Cherri and all, and, in theory he could bring him to V tower, but he was always a little worried now that things had escalated so much with the Vees themselves. Nothing felt safe there. It wasn’t a very fun way to live his afterlife.
“You don’t have to make a decision right now, though,” Charlie said, appeasing tone. Angel smiled again, still weak, but he meant it. “I can arrange for you to talk to Alastor directly if you want. He’s more than open to it, he gave me his word.”
“I… yeah, uh. I’d be willing to hear him out,” Angel said, and Charlie looked elated. Angel felt his chest squeeze a little.
“Great!” Charlie said, throwing her arms around him, then pulling back and clearing her throat. Angel put his hand on hers on the table this time. “Just let me know when you can do it.”
“Will do,” Angel said.
And that was how he found himself in an underground bar a week or so later.
Obviously, alcohol wasn’t illegal in Hell, but the aesthetic of the speakeasy lived on. There were plenty exclusive clubs, places you needed to know an Overlord to get in, or at least someone famous. Angel had spent many hours in joints like this.
Giving a second codeword to a Hellhound lady, Angel was brought to the back of the bar. There were old photos on the walls, smoke wafting in the air. He was led to a private room.
Alastor was sitting with a drink in his hand, red brick walls in the dingy room. The door shut behind them, but Angel could hear the faint notes of jazz from beyond the heavy barrier.
“So, the princess got a hold of you, huh?” Alastor asked.
“Yeah, I agreed to meet her after a text or two from her, and about fifty a day from Cherri,” Angel said.
Alastor stood, and Angel regarded him carefully. He walked to the other side of the table he was sitting at, and pulled out the chair, gesturing for Angel to sit.
Angel watched him as he sat down, Alastor pushing in the chair, then striding back to his side of the table. He offered a cigarette, which Angel took, and Alastor lit it.
“Well, you know, I like to be of service,” Alastor said, “to Charlie and her goals.”
“Do you?” Angel asked, holding the cigarette to his lips.
“Of course!” Alastor said, lighting a cigarette for himself.
Angel took a drag from the cigarette, ignored that little exchange, “Right. Well. First off, what do you want for helping me? Is it something from me, or from her?”
“Oh, you’re worried about little ol’ Charlie?” Alastor asked.
Angel lifted a shoulder.
“She did offer to foot the bill,” Alastor said, “do you have something more enticing on offer?”
Angel thought, for a second, maybe he should let Charlie pay whatever price Alastor was setting on his behalf. Y’know, since she had done stuff to hurt him, made him deeply uncomfortable, embarrassed him in front of people he cared about. But Angel knew, deep down, she meant well, and, even more so, she believed in him. And not just because she believed in everyone, which she did, but she specifically believed Angel to already be a good person. She thought he was already worthy. And he wanted to be, but if that were the case, would he shove this ‘payment’ onto her out of spite? “Maybe? Maybe not. I don’t know what kinda freak you are.”
Alastor’s eyes bored into him for a moment and he heard a noise that was a cross between static and some sort of animal. Angel Dust just flicked ash into the tray on the table between them.
“What I mean to say is, I’m up for a great many things. I don’t know if I, materially, have all that much that you’d want, I mean, could maybe get you into a fun video,” Angel said, and Alastor glared. He chuckled. “But- not everything I’m willing to do is sexual.”
Alastor looked over at the wall, taking a puff from the cigarette between his fingers. “Go on…”
“I have a high tolerance for pain, and I find things that most people would consider terrifying to be exciting. Physically, you could do almost anything to me, and I’d either be alright or probably like it,” Angel explained.
“So, if I were to stab you and let you bleed out in front of me?” Alastor asked.
Angel shrugged, “So long as I can be well enough to show up for work the next day, sure.”
Alastor perked a brow, at that. “Hm.”
Angel finished his cigarette and stubbed it out, crossing his arms over his waist. He shrugged again. “I dunno. Is there anything you want from me? Other than- well, I can’t give you my soul anyway, but I wouldn’t if I could.”
Alastor chuckled, then scoffed, “No, no. Everyone always jumps straight to that. There can be build up- take a demon to dinner first!”
Angel smirked, “Wanna order in some food, then? We’re already having drinks, sweetheart.”
Alastor rolled his eyes, stubbing out his smoke on the opposite side from Angel’s. “Let’s go back a step. This pain and blood business?”
Angel perked a brow this time, “I’m game. Bloodplay’s a tiny bit more niche than, say, ropes or impact, but I’ve done it plenty. It’s fun.”
Alastor seemingly gave it a thought. “And this is a sex thing?”
“Well- it doesn’t have to be. I’m into it, y’know, sexually, but I can obviously keep a handle on myself,” Angel explained, “I mean, of course, if you wanted, I’d be down for that too. Or we could just play it by ear.”
“Hm,” Alastor drummed his fingers on the table. “How very intriguing.”
“It- certainly it’s not that rare, in Hell, for people to be into pretty extreme kinks, really,” Angel said.
“Still. You must understand that I am a sadist- not typically in the sexual sense, but, generally,” Alastor said, “or have you not had the pleasure of listening to my radio show?”
Angel pressed his lips together, “No, I mean, I’ve heard it. Think alla Hell has. But, A) why would you offer to protect me from Vox only to trap me in a radio show? and B) I don’t think Charlie would like that very much, and, while I’m not sure why you’re helping her- never have been- you are helping her, so you wouldn’t want to upset her that greatly just to hurt me.”
“I would not make you a permanent feature of my show, no, I’m just using it as an example. And you’re correct, it doesn’t benefit me to hurt you in any way,” Alastor said, “except-”
“Hm?”
“I’m unsure if it’s occurred to you or not, you’ve had a lot going on, Angel Dust. Vox and I have a history,” Alastor started, speaking slowly, a leading explanation.
“Oh,” Angel said, pressing a finger to his chin. “Uh huh?”
“And while, ideally, he doesn’t find out about this at all, if and when he does, he most likely will blow a gasket,” Alastor said, “which I think would be rather hilarious.”
Angel chuckled a little under his breath, “Right. Fair enough.”
“That also means, though, you will be at risk of his ire if you accept my help. While I can protect you from physical harm from him, he does have a considerable amount of power. And he is working directly with Valentino, who can harm you, and I can’t do anything to stop that.”
Angel held his cheek in his hand and thought. It was a good point- he knew he wouldn’t be protected from Valentino, but hadn’t considered exactly how that would interplay with Vox. “I mean. I still think it would be worth it. I miss the hotel.”
Alastor made a noise, thoughtful, maybe- mocking? Comforting? Mockingly comforting? “Well, it is up to you.”
“Should we write out terms?” Angel asked.
Angel turned up his nose, “It’s not my usual way of going about things, however, if you think it will be complex…?”
“I dunno, I mean- are you agreeing you’ll do this in exchange for, what, getting to stab me with knives on occasion? How often? Like I said, it can’t interfere with my work, so you’ll have to time it specifically or heal me after. And what happens if, for some reason, Vox isn’t an issue any longer, does that invalidate the agreement? Can I exit it when I want? Or you,” Angel said, listing things off.
Alastor chuckled. “Well, fine. We can draw up a contract.”
Angel nodded, breathing in slowly.
And so they did, outlining the specifics. Parts of it were vague enough to be flexible, which Angel knew was a tiny bit risky, but it was one he was willing to take. Alastor specified that it was bloodplay he wanted but did go out of his way to say sex was “optional”, so Angel wondered if it were maybe on the table after all? That part, he wasn’t too worried about. Alastor also specified ‘aftercare’ was required, particularly in relation to Angel’s work, but it seemed sort of general too.
And he wrote out that they could both renegotiate or revoke their agreement to the Deal at any time, which Angel thought was rather nice and generous of him, and it lowered the overall risk considerably.
“There we are,” Alastor said.
“So, what, we seal it with a kiss?” Angel asked, batting his eyes.
Alastor’s eye twitched slightly, “A signature would suffice.”
Angel laughed, and picked up a pen that Alastor produced for him. “Suit yourself,” he said.
Alastor pulled something out of his pocket, a little box. Angel tilted his head, watching him.
“Ready to bleed?” he asked.
“Right away?” Angel guffawed. Well, he could be down, but-
“This was always part of the plan,” Alastor said, opening the box. There was a tiny metal object, some sort of symbol in a circle, that was glowing with demonic energy. “Your wrist, dear?”
Angel held out his arm, and Alastor produced a little scalpel. Angel fixed his eyes on the- medallion?
“This will provide the protection you seek, imbued with strong demonic magic I’ve finessed. I thought, at first, about a brand or something of that nature, but it could theoretically be gouged out if noticed. Nobody will even know this is here.”
“Oh,” Angel said.
Alastor sliced into his skin and Angel tensed, feeling the pain from the cut. It wasn’t intense, he was used to much more sensation on a regular basis, but he still made a little noise. Alastor slipped the metal symbol beneath his flesh and held his hand over it. It burned, for a second, with demonic flame, and then it looked like nothing had even happened.
“Damn. Okay,” Angel said, turning his wrist back and forth.
“So, when will you return to the hotel?” Alastor asked.
“Next chance I can get,” Angel said, “I asked Val for the week off in a couple days, he seemed like he was okay enough with it. So, probably in a day or two.”
Alastor hummed in thought. “When should we begin our little… playdates?”
Angel smirked, “Whenever you want. When I get back to the hotel?”
“Sounds fine by me,” Alastor said. “Any ideas for how you’d like it to go down?”
Angel tilted his head. Alastor had made it clear he planned to direct any escapades they got up to. But maybe he was extending a kindness, letting Angel sort of set the tone, perhaps. He thought, for a second.
Angel had been through a lot in the past several months, especially with Valentino. Alastor was willing, nay, eager, to be violent with him. Angel could work with that. It’d been… quite some time since he’d done anything, sex or kink, that wasn’t technically on the clock or with Valentino himself, having shied away from dating or relationships a while back. He could have fun with this.
“Actually… I think I might,” Angel said, “it’s a little twisted, though.”
Alastor leaned forward, perking his brow. “Oh? Do tell, Angel Dust.”
Angel smirked,
and told him about his idea.