The dramatic shift in mood in Alastor caused Angel to internally panic. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Thats not-
Actually, this whole evening has been a rollercoaster of emotions for the spider. Drink with Alastor, I said. It'll be fun, I said. Which, at first, Angel found great amusement in how uninhibited the deer had been. Even teased the shit out of him. Seeing Al so outside of his usual self had been fun, even the annoying parts of trying to drag his drunk ass out of the club to protect his ass. And now he was trying to protect the demon from himself.
When Alastor stumbled Angel reflectively reached out to try to catch him but hesitated just mere inches from him. Damn, if he touched Alastor again he....
"Al, no, it's not..." Angel pleaded weakly, pulling back his arms to wrap them around himself in an attempt to resist the temptation of placing them on the deer, "Look Smiles, its not that I don't want to touch ya again. Its very much the opposite. With you moaning and shit... I'm tryin'.... I'm trying to hold myself back from doing somethin' I can't undo if I did it. Say what you want about me, but I'm not the type of guy who'd lay hands on someone blitzed out of their minds."
A sober Alastor would've understood. It was always so easy to give into one's inner demons here in Hell. There was no incentive not to. Honestly, he'd likely share the act with Charlie just to watch her squeal, beam, and annoy the ever-living hell out of Angel about his progress in resisting temptation.
Only Alastor wasn't sober. Thoughts he'd drowned earlier had risen to the surface again with a vengeance, coiling their dark tendrils around him and dragging him down towards the abyss now that Alastor was far too drunk to resist.
But he smiled at Angel. Smiled and laughed and spun on his toes in a grand sweeping pantomime of amusement. The laugh track that accompanied his stumbling was slow and twisted, like a cassette tape being played on a tape player whose batteries were running low. "Oh, my dear, there's no reason for excuses! I do understand! Truly!" He hiccupped and danced a few uncertain steps to the melancholy tune, not-very-subtly putting distance between himself and Angel. "Thank you for such a del-delightful evening but you're right: I'd best be on my way!"
His head swam as the shadows began coiling around him like chains. He belonged to them and the empty, freezing, lonely darkness. He'd had his fun. It was time to go.
Angel clenched his teeth in frustration as his fingertips dug uncomfortably into the flesh of his arms. This wasn't Al. Or maybe it was, just a really pitiful side of himself. Either way, it crawled under his skin.
"It ain't an excuse!" Angel bowed his head, baring his teeth, "You know for a damn fact that if you were sober and you give me the slightest hint of the green light I would mount you so fast your back would give out!" The death grip on his arms loosened as he lets out a long heavy sigh, the anger he felt subsiding slightly. "Think what you want right now. Hate me if ya want. Makes no difference. I'm sure in the morning you'll be thankin' me."
Angel's jerked up to give Alastor a questioning stare. What the fuck does that mean? Alastor doesn't hate him? That sounded false but alright. The radio demon has made it quite clear on several different occasions on how he felt about him... And right now the poot deer was drunk as a skunk. Angel shouldn't take anything he said seriously.
"You must be really out of it if ya' spoutin' nonsense like that." There was no way in Hell Al liked him. He didn't really even like himself.
"I mean it," Alastor slurred. He took a stumbling step towards the two Angels in front of him, the shadows tugging insistently at him but not enough to get him to stop. He started poking the chest fluff of the one slightly to the right. "I don't like your propositions. You're vulgar and irritating. And you seem to think it's funny to wind me up to the point where homicide crosses my mind."
Alastor's drooping ears twitched as he lowered his hand. He lowered his eyes, giving a wry chuckle interrupted by hiccups.
"But ironically that's...that's why I don't hate you. You didn't run away or slam the door in my face or attempt to threaten me when we first met. You...you actively seek me out to annoy me. It's not just me, the quiet in my ears, and the radio in my head."
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Actually, this whole evening has been a rollercoaster of emotions for the spider. Drink with Alastor, I said. It'll be fun, I said. Which, at first, Angel found great amusement in how uninhibited the deer had been. Even teased the shit out of him. Seeing Al so outside of his usual self had been fun, even the annoying parts of trying to drag his drunk ass out of the club to protect his ass. And now he was trying to protect the demon from himself.
When Alastor stumbled Angel reflectively reached out to try to catch him but hesitated just mere inches from him. Damn, if he touched Alastor again he....
"Al, no, it's not..." Angel pleaded weakly, pulling back his arms to wrap them around himself in an attempt to resist the temptation of placing them on the deer, "Look Smiles, its not that I don't want to touch ya again. Its very much the opposite. With you moaning and shit... I'm tryin'.... I'm trying to hold myself back from doing somethin' I can't undo if I did it. Say what you want about me, but I'm not the type of guy who'd lay hands on someone blitzed out of their minds."
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Only Alastor wasn't sober. Thoughts he'd drowned earlier had risen to the surface again with a vengeance, coiling their dark tendrils around him and dragging him down towards the abyss now that Alastor was far too drunk to resist.
But he smiled at Angel. Smiled and laughed and spun on his toes in a grand sweeping pantomime of amusement. The laugh track that accompanied his stumbling was slow and twisted, like a cassette tape being played on a tape player whose batteries were running low. "Oh, my dear, there's no reason for excuses! I do understand! Truly!" He hiccupped and danced a few uncertain steps to the melancholy tune, not-very-subtly putting distance between himself and Angel. "Thank you for such a del-delightful evening but you're right: I'd best be on my way!"
His head swam as the shadows began coiling around him like chains. He belonged to them and the empty, freezing, lonely darkness. He'd had his fun. It was time to go.
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"It ain't an excuse!" Angel bowed his head, baring his teeth, "You know for a damn fact that if you were sober and you give me the slightest hint of the green light I would mount you so fast your back would give out!" The death grip on his arms loosened as he lets out a long heavy sigh, the anger he felt subsiding slightly. "Think what you want right now. Hate me if ya want. Makes no difference. I'm sure in the morning you'll be thankin' me."
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Once more, there was no static in his voice. He was "off the air" for a moment. In vino, veritas.
"I hate a lot of people, but you're not one of them."
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"You must be really out of it if ya' spoutin' nonsense like that." There was no way in Hell Al liked him. He didn't really even like himself.
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Alastor's drooping ears twitched as he lowered his hand. He lowered his eyes, giving a wry chuckle interrupted by hiccups.
"But ironically that's...that's why I don't hate you. You didn't run away or slam the door in my face or attempt to threaten me when we first met. You...you actively seek me out to annoy me. It's not just me, the quiet in my ears, and the radio in my head."