Alastor didn't deny it. Angel knew it, he was sweet on them the big ole softy. The spider chuckled quietly to himself shaking his head before leveling a tender glance Alastor's way.
"Well I know." His tone was even and soft, flashing Al with a sly wink. "But don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. No one would believe me anyways."
A pregnant pause passed between them before Angel realized he was just staring at Al like some love struck high-schooler and he quickly snapped his head away to look intently at the opposing wall. God, he really hated himself right now, burning up inside with embarrassment and instant regret.
He ran a hand through his bangs, laughing nervously. "I ah.... should really clean my self up. I probably look as shitty as I feel. And uh..... thanks... again..."
Alastor looked back at Angel, ears pricking as he saw the way Angel was looking at him. Oh dear. Had Angel breathed in some of Valentino's wretched smoke after all?
"Are you injured anywhere? I should've checked earlier..."
Dammit. This was so awkward. Still, it wouldn't do if Angel was hurt and he injured himself further from lingering side effects from whatever Valentino had pumped into his system.
Angel tensed slightly. The dark sinful voices in his head hissed yessss let him put his hands on you and he desperately tried to stove the thoughts down. Now was not the time for that. Not right after he... It was the drugs talking... Fuck.
"Naw, I'm all right. I just.... need some rest." Physically yes, emotionally no. You can't fix the problems he got. "You should be more worried about yourself. Didn't you mention that you wanted to wash all that demon stink off?"
Alastor nodded. "Very well. I'll leave you to your rest then."
He really did want to get whatever Valentino's smoke was made of off of him. The lingering stench was horrid.
"I suppose I'll see you whenever you get up tomorrow! Until then..."
Alastor jumped to his feet and bowed before his shadows wrapped around him. Then he was gone from Angel's room and back in his own.
His shadow eyed him.
"...Fine. I could do with some privacy anyway."
His shadow eagerly zipped away back to Angel's room. The other shadows had dispersed at Alastor's exit, so the shadow curled up in a comfy darkened corner to listen for any trouble.
The rest of Angel's night was uneventful. After Alastor's departure, he just stared blankly at the walls wrestling with his inner demons for a bit. But he was eventually true to his words, rising up to go clean himself up. There was not enough hot water in Hell to ever truly wash away how filthy he felt after a night working at that shithole club.
It would be another dreamless night as Angel finally lays his tired head to rest. Having no dreams was the better alternative than playing through his nightmares like some shitty movie reel. So when the morning came, Angel didn't really feel all that well rested. But it was better than nothing. His head was throbbing while his whole body ached, craving more of that pleasant poison. Oh yes... the day after the killer high was always so fun. The worse part wasn't even the itch for the next hit.. it was the clarity of his actions from the day before. That gnawing shame and guilt. And last night... he had plenty to feel real shitty about.
Reluctantly Angel rolled out of bed to get dressed for that day. Even though it was the same old outfit he worn everyday, he made sure not a stitch was out of place as he looked himself over in the mirror peering. Everything had to be perfect. Once he felt like he looked presentable, he marched down the hall to the radio demon's door.
....
You fucking coward, knock on the damn door! It's just a fucking door! Raise that hand and punch it. Fucking hell.
Angel was glad that at this time of day that the hall were empty so no one could see him standing there like a creepy statue. But after a bit more screaming at himself he did raise his hand to softly rasp his knuckles on his door.
The only answer Angel got was Alastor's shadow sweeping up from behind, projecting itself against the door. It grinned at Angel, raising a hand in a silent wave.
It had stayed all night but had hesitated in doing anything. Honestly, it was a bit better than its master at emotions but it still lacked much in the way of social skills. The best it could think to do the night before was to watch and wait.
Alastor himself was downstairs cooking. Cooking made sense when little else did. The right ingredients, the right timing, and one had a delicious meal. And if Alastor was making enough for the full staff of the hotel and their one guest, well, that was fine, too. Seeing others rave over his cooking was a solid ego boost.
He hummed to himself as he listened to his various dishes, nose periodically twitching as he smelled his hard work.
Oh noooo. Shit, fuck, shit! Buckley! How could Angel almost forgot about him. No doubt he had front row seats to his awkward fidget show. Dammit, he had a direct line to Alastor. Fuck his life in the assssss.
Flashing the best smile he could Angel waved back at the shadow. "Oh, mornin' Buck. You... wouldn't happen to know where your master is, do you? And..." He leans in close to whisper. "... if ya keep quiet about what you saw, there are extra ear scratches for you in the future."
The shadow's ears pricked up, smile widening exponentially. Oh yes. Ear scratches would be very good.
It shifted its shape in a bit of shadow puppetry, creating a silhouette of Alastor at the stove cooking. It even included little music notes drifting away from the little Alastor.
Then it shifted back, leaning towards Angel expectantly.
It was almost cute watching Buckley get excited over head scratches. This might be a good thing that he could be bribed so easily. Maybe he could put in a good word to the boss man for him. Smirking to himself, Angel watched Buck's little shadow play. Ah, the kitchen! Well shit, he made a fool of himself for nothing.
As promised, Angel reached out to give the shadow a good scratch behind the ears. "That's a good boy. Thanks Bucky. I owe ya more later."
Angel gave him one more hardy scritch before turning on his heels to head down stairs. Reaching the landing, the rich smell of something being freshly prepared hits Angel's nose. What ever he was making... it smelt delicious. But his pace slowed as he approached the doorway into the kitchen. No, no, no. You already went through this. Don't be a fucking coward.
Steeling his nerves, Angel once more made sure his outward appearance was flawless, flattening the hem of his jacket before strolling into the room like he owned the place. Fake it til you make it.
"Morning Smiles~" Angel beamed mustering up the best grin he could, crossing the floor over to his side to peer over his shoulder. "What are you making?"
Typically Alastor took his jacket off when cooking along with rolling up his sleeves. It had less to do with the aesthetic and more to do with he didn't want to get food onto his clothes. Today, however, Alastor's jacket remained on and his arms were fully covered. Last night had given him more than his fill of physical contact for at least a day. The extra clothing relaxed him as did cooking.
Though he gave Angel a bright smile, pretending that last night hadn't happened. Perhaps the spider didn't remember it, too high on whatever had been in his system. "Ah, good morning, Angel! I decided to go with something a bit simpler today: scrambled eggs, bacon, buttermilk biscuits, Cajun hashbrowns, fried apples, and beignets." He gently nudged Angel backwards and to the side with an elbow. "If you're going to watch, I'd prefer you weren't in firing range, so to speak."
He could feel his shadow slipping back into place at his feet as he continued stirring the contents of his sizzling skillet: the hashbrowns. Smells of baking goods wafted from the oven. A small pot held sliced apples that were bubbling away in a syrup made from their own juices and cinnamon. The bacon and eggs he'd do last so they were still hot when served.
Right.... simple. Bitch please! Simple was a bowl of cereal over expired milk! Or cold pizza full of last night's regrets. That was simple. Smiles was over here cooking like some little house wife. If this was his idea of an easy meal, he wanted to see what a complicated breakfast was. However, that small nudge brought him crashing back down. Sure, Al could have been telling the truth that he was "in the splash zone", but part of him couldn't help to think that the other demon didn't want the adult starlet anywhere near him. Which... fair. He couldn't fault him on that. Still hurts.
Taking the hint, Angel backed off and drifted a ways off from Alastor to his right. On a bit of clean counter top space, Angel hoisted himself on top of the cool marble.
"Say Al.... could I talk to you for a minute?" Angel's head was bowed, staring at his laced fingers in his lap. "Its... about last night."
Now once more possessing the space to do so, Alastor gave the skillet a shake before lifting it up, rearing his elbow back, and giving the hashbrowns a good toss. Had Angel not moved, he would've gotten elbowed in the stomach. Not a single bit of potato, onion, sausage, or spices ended up outside of the skillet. He put it back down on the burner.
"What about it?" Alastor asked calmly.
He flicked an ear to shut off the soft radio music he'd been humming along to. Nothing he could do about his internal receiver but at least he could give Angel some quiet.
If Angel was watching, he might have been impressed with Al's culinary skills. Maybe even a little turned on. But as things were however, the spider's attention was firmly planted in his lap. He didn't respond right away to the inquiry, just sat there in uncharacteristic silence. Fuck, why was this so hard? The fact that Alastor was being so casual wasn't helping him either. Clearly he was still worked up from the other night.
After like it seemed that Angel wasn't going to speak, he stirred in his spot clearing his throat. "You know about what. How I blew up on ya and pinned you to my bed. I was angry. A little bit at you but... mostly at myself. I knew you didn't like touchin' and I took my frustration out on you. For that I'm sorry... Honestly."
Alastor hummed to himself as he considered his response carefully. This wasn't something to be treated lightly, after all.
"If it's that important to you, apology accepted. Honestly, if I'd been in any real danger, I could've easily thrown you off."
Or, rather, his shadows would have when he'd frozen up. As embarrassing as that had been. His personal shadow would've torn Angel to shreds, ear scritches or no ear scritches. It was loyal first and foremost to Alastor.
"You weren't in your right mind thanks to whatever cocktail Valentino put in your system. For that reason I'm overlooking what happened." He then gave a dry look to Angel. "But if you're ever sober and do such a thing, you will swiftly regret it. Assuming you survive long enough to do so."
Ouch. He deserved that. It wasn't anything new he hadn't been told before. Coming from Alastor stung more than some random John. Angel already knew Alastor was revolted at the idea of his touch. Even though the radio demon had spelled it all out for him on many different occasions, he just kept trying. One part cause it was fun to dick with him but also... for more personal reasons. The harsh reminder soured his mood nonetheless. Why did he keep pushing? He was only hurting himself and Alastor... Maybe... it was time to put a end to it all. Move on. He'll never be anything more than someone's whore.
"Right... I know... Won't happen again." Angel's voice faltered a bit, betraying his emotions. "I was just worried is all. I know you think your strong, but it wasn't just Val you were going to be throwing your hat into the ring with. There's Vox and Velvet to deal with now too. That's why I told you not to get involved, why I didn't want you to know where I was going. I knew you try to pull something."
It wasn't Angel's touch specifically that made Alastor's skin crawl. It was touch in general. He hated being touched. Just one more reason that he'd never gotten a partner: How could he do anything to please them if the thought of physical contact made him queasy?
Not that he knew what thoughts were currently swimming through Angel's head. Other than generalized self-recrimination. Unlike Alastor, Angel wore his emotions on his sleeve.
Alastor reached out to lower the temperature of the stovetop so at least his food wouldn't burn. He then walked over to lean into Angel's face.
"Sha, look at me," Alastor said bluntly, a little of his natural accent slipping in with that first word as he reached out a gloved hand to gently tap beneath Angel's chin. "I'm well-aware that if I flexed my claws against one of the V's, I'd have the other two come running. I also know that Valentino is the lynchpin of that despicable trio, but Vox and Velvet don't seem to realize that the moth is a leech that has far less power than they think he does. Yesterday Vox saw up close and personal that Valentino isn't as strong as he pretends to be. It's going to start putting cracks in that relationship."
Alastor's smile turned into a smirk.
"I may haff been born in da bayou, but dat jus means I know how ta swim wit da gatas," he said, deliberately speaking with his original accent. Then he swapped back to his normal Transatlantic accent. "I do appreciate the concern -- Actually, I'm quite surprised by it! -- but I'm not some reckless would-be knight in shining armor. And now that I know the layout of that vile studio, I can have my shadow friends pluck you out at any time without having to set foot inside."
If Angel had internal radio receivers like Al, he would have set off all the transponders in a five mile radius with some high pitch squealing. Fucking Hell, Smiles wasn't playing fair. Not just two seconds ago did he decide that he was going to let go of whatever weird feelings he had brewing for the deer and he pulls this shit on him. Stop being kind to him. It was weird. It made him feel weird. No. Bury it. Bury it deep. You're not going to pursue this anymore. Wh-what ever this was. Nope. Nopey nope nope.
Despite the internal crisis Angel was tackling, all Alastor could see was the spider tensing at his touch, his breath hitching in his throat staring up at him with damp eyes. For a moment, Angel sat motionless with his chin under that claw. But then his eyes fluttered as if awaking from a trance and he hastily pulled away, snapping his head to one side.
"Ya think I'm going to go back?" Angel knew Alastor had a copy of his contract. It was probably unintentional that statement about going in to get him out sounded like admitting defeat. Reaching up he gripped at the sleeves of his coat jacket. "I'm... I'm scared Al. And you want to know the most fucked up part is? Last night I realized when I saw Val beat to hell on the floor that somewhere... deep inside me... I still loved him. Fucking hilarious right?" Angel choked out a strangled chuckle, his knees starting to shake. "I was a worthless fuck up in life and I was a worthless fuck up in death. I was nobody. The first time I met him, he made me feel like I could become somebody. I never had that before. It felt so fucking good. But by the time I realized what kind of man he was, I was in too deep. Sold my fucking soul for love. How's that for entertainment?"
Angel's whole body shook with pain laughter to poorly vail the tears he was fighting to keep down.
"I greatly enjoy watching others suffer, but there are certain things I don't find funny in spite of their suffering." He looked directly into Angel's eyes. "If I were going to laugh at that in particular, I'd have to laugh at my own mother. She had terrible taste in men."
He wondered if Angel would realize just what he'd implied there. He'd been told by his mother to keep his mouth shut, say nothing.
Though, honestly, "taste" only applied to their personalities. Getting rid of the bodies when she'd finally hit her limit and snapped? Well, not all of his recipes for human flesh had been through his own experimentation.
Angel's laughter trailed off giving way to sniffling, reaching up to rub at his eyes. He wasn't crying okay? There was just smoke in his eyes from the cooking. Or they were just getting irritated by what ever spices he was using. But definitely not blubbering like a baby, alright?
Welp this wasn't where he thought this conversation would go. Opening up to Al about the past like this. Maybe he half expected him to find enjoyment out of his own stupidity, wanting to double down on how shitty he felt. So when he didn't, it puzzled Angel. Instead Alastor was standing there in front of him, revealing a small piece of himself with him. Normally the deer was so guarded about personal matters. Angel didn't know what to think about this strange development. All Angel could do was blink dumbly at him.
"I see... Guess your mom and I have something in common, eh?" Angel snorted trying to crack a smile, but it came out strained. "I should let ya get back to cooking."
Angel shifted awkwardly as he slipped his ass off the counter to stand back on the tiled floor. "Sorry to dump all this on you first thing in the morning. And uh... could you not tell anyone about what I told you? I mean... its not a huge secret. Anyone who does a little digging could find it out. I would rather it not be common knowledge."
"R-right..." Angel silently watched Alastor just casually stroll back over to the stove as if Angel didn't just bare his soul to him. You know how hard that was for him? The only other living soul who knew was Cherri...
See? No one cared. The voices in his head needled at him. No. No... this was good. This is what he wanted. It was just the kick in the ass he needed to squish this thing before he got in too deep.
"Sure thing." Angel said dryly, walking over to the refrigerator to fetch the supplies Alastor requested.
Heading back over he placed them well out of the "splash zone" and he spun to turn his back on the deer, raising a hand to give a small wave.
"Enjoy your breakfast Al." And with that Angel tried to make a hasty retreat.
Alastor snorted. "I know I'm a heavy eater, but I can't eat all of this alone. It'll be set out in a few minutes for you all."
It was a damn good thing there were so many people here. When Alastor felt antsy, he had a tendency to cook. A lot. (Husk called it "stress cooking".) Feeding others meant the food wasn't wasted.
And, honestly, most people wouldn't eat the food because Alastor was the one who made it. It was a nice change to have people appreciate his cooking.
"Kay, sounds great." Angel called over his shoulder not stopping to look back as he exited the kitchen. He wasn't even listening anymore at this point. He was checked out. Just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
Only when he reached the main entrance hall did he pause, shaking like a leaf. He did it. He apologized. That's that. Fuck, what was he going to do for the rest of the day? He was too scared to venture outside after all the shit that happened. What if Val's men were out there waiting for him? Or Vox or Velvet? Silently he cursed at himself. He had no choice, he had to stay inside. Resigned to his fate he slinks back to his room where he remained for the day.
~~~~
The weeks crawled on by and the spider was getting increasingly stir crazy. Since the incident at the club, he had been hotel bound. Which meant its residence had plenty of face time with the porn starlet. Well... some of them. It wasn't that he was going out of his way to avoid a certain prong horned deer. Just... not seeking his company as much as he had done in the past. Of course he would exchange pleasantries when their paths crossed, but there was none of that flirty vulgarity that usually went along with it. Even when the opportunities to make an off handed comment came flying his way, he would artfully dodge around it. Which... was very difficult at times.
No, instead it was their resident bartender that was receiving the bulk of Angel's advances. The spider's attention was laser focused on Husker much to his own annoyance. When ever possible Angel sought him out, often loitering around the bar to pester the cat. It was like a fun new, distracting, game for him. He wanted to see how long it would take until the kitty cat crumbled.
But Husker most have spoken to Charlie about all his new found "free time" because she put him to work to decorate the hotel for the up coming holiday, Christmas. Christmas in Hell... And even though he complained, he rather liked having a task to keep his hands and his mind busy. What he was not too thrilled about was the Secret Santa she insisted on doing. Apparently she wanted to get everyone into the giving mood to try to promote the whole redemption bullshit. With his shit luck, he got Al... Merry Fucking Christmas.
Perched high up in the main foyer, Angel tried not to dwell too much on it as he strung up the twinkling lights.
It had started with Angel snubbing that breakfast. That had hurt, but Alastor had forced himself to ignore it. Probably leftovers from the drugs.
But as the weeks went on, it was as if Angel was going out of his way to avoid him as much as possible. Oh, he didn't flee at the sight of Alastor, but he clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Even gone so far as to occupy himself with Husk instead.
Which was fine. Really. Alastor was grateful for the lack of flirting in his direction. And being ignored didn't bother him at all. (His shadow, on the other hand, did everything in its power to interject itself to get Angel's attention. Apparently it didn't like someone else getting ear scratches in its presence.)
Alastor had tried to worm his way out of the Secret Santa nonsense. He didn't hate Christmas, but he didn't much care for it either. He was just sort of indifferent to it. However, Charlie was nothing if not persistent, eventually getting him to draw from her little Santa hat if only to get her to stop.
He got Angel. Clearly, the game was rigged.
Well, if he was going to be forced to do this nonsense, he'd do it right. Which meant he needed to figure out what the other wanted. Which called for some deception.
He walked to where Angel was helping decorate. "Angel, would you come down? I require your assistance!"
When Alastor entered the foyer, Angel was in the middle of playing with a sprig of mistletoe in one claw. Oh where should he put it~? Tapping it against his lips, he grins to himself imagining it hanging directly over Husker's bar just to screw with him. It had been weeks since he's gotten laid and it was slowly starting to drive him crazy. Maybe at the Christmas party, him and Husk could get totally blasted and head up to his room to- AH FUCK!
Angel nearly dropped the sprig at the sudden appearance of the radio demon, fumbling with it in his claws. But thankfully his secondary set of hands managed to catch it. Okay Angel, act natural. From his lofty perch he peered down at Al.
"Oh yeah? What cha need? I'm in the middle of decorating for Charlie." He didn't make any effort to descend.
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"Well I know." His tone was even and soft, flashing Al with a sly wink. "But don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. No one would believe me anyways."
A pregnant pause passed between them before Angel realized he was just staring at Al like some love struck high-schooler and he quickly snapped his head away to look intently at the opposing wall. God, he really hated himself right now, burning up inside with embarrassment and instant regret.
He ran a hand through his bangs, laughing nervously. "I ah.... should really clean my self up. I probably look as shitty as I feel. And uh..... thanks... again..."
Smooth.
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Alastor looked back at Angel, ears pricking as he saw the way Angel was looking at him. Oh dear. Had Angel breathed in some of Valentino's wretched smoke after all?
"Are you injured anywhere? I should've checked earlier..."
Dammit. This was so awkward. Still, it wouldn't do if Angel was hurt and he injured himself further from lingering side effects from whatever Valentino had pumped into his system.
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"Naw, I'm all right. I just.... need some rest." Physically yes, emotionally no. You can't fix the problems he got. "You should be more worried about yourself. Didn't you mention that you wanted to wash all that demon stink off?"
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He really did want to get whatever Valentino's smoke was made of off of him. The lingering stench was horrid.
"I suppose I'll see you whenever you get up tomorrow! Until then..."
Alastor jumped to his feet and bowed before his shadows wrapped around him. Then he was gone from Angel's room and back in his own.
His shadow eyed him.
"...Fine. I could do with some privacy anyway."
His shadow eagerly zipped away back to Angel's room. The other shadows had dispersed at Alastor's exit, so the shadow curled up in a comfy darkened corner to listen for any trouble.
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It would be another dreamless night as Angel finally lays his tired head to rest. Having no dreams was the better alternative than playing through his nightmares like some shitty movie reel. So when the morning came, Angel didn't really feel all that well rested. But it was better than nothing. His head was throbbing while his whole body ached, craving more of that pleasant poison. Oh yes... the day after the killer high was always so fun. The worse part wasn't even the itch for the next hit.. it was the clarity of his actions from the day before. That gnawing shame and guilt. And last night... he had plenty to feel real shitty about.
Reluctantly Angel rolled out of bed to get dressed for that day. Even though it was the same old outfit he worn everyday, he made sure not a stitch was out of place as he looked himself over in the mirror peering. Everything had to be perfect. Once he felt like he looked presentable, he marched down the hall to the radio demon's door.
....
You fucking coward, knock on the damn door! It's just a fucking door! Raise that hand and punch it. Fucking hell.
Angel was glad that at this time of day that the hall were empty so no one could see him standing there like a creepy statue. But after a bit more screaming at himself he did raise his hand to softly rasp his knuckles on his door.
"Al? You awake?"
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It had stayed all night but had hesitated in doing anything. Honestly, it was a bit better than its master at emotions but it still lacked much in the way of social skills. The best it could think to do the night before was to watch and wait.
Alastor himself was downstairs cooking. Cooking made sense when little else did. The right ingredients, the right timing, and one had a delicious meal. And if Alastor was making enough for the full staff of the hotel and their one guest, well, that was fine, too. Seeing others rave over his cooking was a solid ego boost.
He hummed to himself as he listened to his various dishes, nose periodically twitching as he smelled his hard work.
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Flashing the best smile he could Angel waved back at the shadow. "Oh, mornin' Buck. You... wouldn't happen to know where your master is, do you? And..." He leans in close to whisper. "... if ya keep quiet about what you saw, there are extra ear scratches for you in the future."
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It shifted its shape in a bit of shadow puppetry, creating a silhouette of Alastor at the stove cooking. It even included little music notes drifting away from the little Alastor.
Then it shifted back, leaning towards Angel expectantly.
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As promised, Angel reached out to give the shadow a good scratch behind the ears. "That's a good boy. Thanks Bucky. I owe ya more later."
Angel gave him one more hardy scritch before turning on his heels to head down stairs. Reaching the landing, the rich smell of something being freshly prepared hits Angel's nose. What ever he was making... it smelt delicious. But his pace slowed as he approached the doorway into the kitchen. No, no, no. You already went through this. Don't be a fucking coward.
Steeling his nerves, Angel once more made sure his outward appearance was flawless, flattening the hem of his jacket before strolling into the room like he owned the place. Fake it til you make it.
"Morning Smiles~" Angel beamed mustering up the best grin he could, crossing the floor over to his side to peer over his shoulder. "What are you making?"
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Though he gave Angel a bright smile, pretending that last night hadn't happened. Perhaps the spider didn't remember it, too high on whatever had been in his system. "Ah, good morning, Angel! I decided to go with something a bit simpler today: scrambled eggs, bacon, buttermilk biscuits, Cajun hashbrowns, fried apples, and beignets." He gently nudged Angel backwards and to the side with an elbow. "If you're going to watch, I'd prefer you weren't in firing range, so to speak."
He could feel his shadow slipping back into place at his feet as he continued stirring the contents of his sizzling skillet: the hashbrowns. Smells of baking goods wafted from the oven. A small pot held sliced apples that were bubbling away in a syrup made from their own juices and cinnamon. The bacon and eggs he'd do last so they were still hot when served.
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Taking the hint, Angel backed off and drifted a ways off from Alastor to his right. On a bit of clean counter top space, Angel hoisted himself on top of the cool marble.
"Say Al.... could I talk to you for a minute?" Angel's head was bowed, staring at his laced fingers in his lap. "Its... about last night."
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"What about it?" Alastor asked calmly.
He flicked an ear to shut off the soft radio music he'd been humming along to. Nothing he could do about his internal receiver but at least he could give Angel some quiet.
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After like it seemed that Angel wasn't going to speak, he stirred in his spot clearing his throat. "You know about what. How I blew up on ya and pinned you to my bed. I was angry. A little bit at you but... mostly at myself. I knew you didn't like touchin' and I took my frustration out on you. For that I'm sorry... Honestly."
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"If it's that important to you, apology accepted. Honestly, if I'd been in any real danger, I could've easily thrown you off."
Or, rather, his shadows would have when he'd frozen up. As embarrassing as that had been. His personal shadow would've torn Angel to shreds, ear scritches or no ear scritches. It was loyal first and foremost to Alastor.
"You weren't in your right mind thanks to whatever cocktail Valentino put in your system. For that reason I'm overlooking what happened." He then gave a dry look to Angel. "But if you're ever sober and do such a thing, you will swiftly regret it. Assuming you survive long enough to do so."
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"Right... I know... Won't happen again." Angel's voice faltered a bit, betraying his emotions. "I was just worried is all. I know you think your strong, but it wasn't just Val you were going to be throwing your hat into the ring with. There's Vox and Velvet to deal with now too. That's why I told you not to get involved, why I didn't want you to know where I was going. I knew you try to pull something."
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Not that he knew what thoughts were currently swimming through Angel's head. Other than generalized self-recrimination. Unlike Alastor, Angel wore his emotions on his sleeve.
Alastor reached out to lower the temperature of the stovetop so at least his food wouldn't burn. He then walked over to lean into Angel's face.
"Sha, look at me," Alastor said bluntly, a little of his natural accent slipping in with that first word as he reached out a gloved hand to gently tap beneath Angel's chin. "I'm well-aware that if I flexed my claws against one of the V's, I'd have the other two come running. I also know that Valentino is the lynchpin of that despicable trio, but Vox and Velvet don't seem to realize that the moth is a leech that has far less power than they think he does. Yesterday Vox saw up close and personal that Valentino isn't as strong as he pretends to be. It's going to start putting cracks in that relationship."
Alastor's smile turned into a smirk.
"I may haff been born in da bayou, but dat jus means I know how ta swim wit da gatas," he said, deliberately speaking with his original accent. Then he swapped back to his normal Transatlantic accent. "I do appreciate the concern -- Actually, I'm quite surprised by it! -- but I'm not some reckless would-be knight in shining armor. And now that I know the layout of that vile studio, I can have my shadow friends pluck you out at any time without having to set foot inside."
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Despite the internal crisis Angel was tackling, all Alastor could see was the spider tensing at his touch, his breath hitching in his throat staring up at him with damp eyes. For a moment, Angel sat motionless with his chin under that claw. But then his eyes fluttered as if awaking from a trance and he hastily pulled away, snapping his head to one side.
"Ya think I'm going to go back?" Angel knew Alastor had a copy of his contract. It was probably unintentional that statement about going in to get him out sounded like admitting defeat. Reaching up he gripped at the sleeves of his coat jacket. "I'm... I'm scared Al. And you want to know the most fucked up part is? Last night I realized when I saw Val beat to hell on the floor that somewhere... deep inside me... I still loved him. Fucking hilarious right?" Angel choked out a strangled chuckle, his knees starting to shake. "I was a worthless fuck up in life and I was a worthless fuck up in death. I was nobody. The first time I met him, he made me feel like I could become somebody. I never had that before. It felt so fucking good. But by the time I realized what kind of man he was, I was in too deep. Sold my fucking soul for love. How's that for entertainment?"
Angel's whole body shook with pain laughter to poorly vail the tears he was fighting to keep down.
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"I greatly enjoy watching others suffer, but there are certain things I don't find funny in spite of their suffering." He looked directly into Angel's eyes. "If I were going to laugh at that in particular, I'd have to laugh at my own mother. She had terrible taste in men."
He wondered if Angel would realize just what he'd implied there. He'd been told by his mother to keep his mouth shut, say nothing.
Though, honestly, "taste" only applied to their personalities. Getting rid of the bodies when she'd finally hit her limit and snapped? Well, not all of his recipes for human flesh had been through his own experimentation.
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Welp this wasn't where he thought this conversation would go. Opening up to Al about the past like this. Maybe he half expected him to find enjoyment out of his own stupidity, wanting to double down on how shitty he felt. So when he didn't, it puzzled Angel. Instead Alastor was standing there in front of him, revealing a small piece of himself with him. Normally the deer was so guarded about personal matters. Angel didn't know what to think about this strange development. All Angel could do was blink dumbly at him.
"I see... Guess your mom and I have something in common, eh?" Angel snorted trying to crack a smile, but it came out strained. "I should let ya get back to cooking."
Angel shifted awkwardly as he slipped his ass off the counter to stand back on the tiled floor. "Sorry to dump all this on you first thing in the morning. And uh... could you not tell anyone about what I told you? I mean... its not a huge secret. Anyone who does a little digging could find it out. I would rather it not be common knowledge."
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He went back to the stove and checked his hashbrowns. Nodding his satisfaction, he turned the heat back up.
"Would you mind fetching the pack of bacon from the refrigerator? Also the egg carton while you're at it."
Move on, don't linger on the previous subject. Some normalcy would do well to dispel the sudden awkwardness in the kitchen.
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See? No one cared. The voices in his head needled at him. No. No... this was good. This is what he wanted. It was just the kick in the ass he needed to squish this thing before he got in too deep.
"Sure thing." Angel said dryly, walking over to the refrigerator to fetch the supplies Alastor requested.
Heading back over he placed them well out of the "splash zone" and he spun to turn his back on the deer, raising a hand to give a small wave.
"Enjoy your breakfast Al." And with that Angel tried to make a hasty retreat.
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It was a damn good thing there were so many people here. When Alastor felt antsy, he had a tendency to cook. A lot. (Husk called it "stress cooking".) Feeding others meant the food wasn't wasted.
And, honestly, most people wouldn't eat the food because Alastor was the one who made it. It was a nice change to have people appreciate his cooking.
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Only when he reached the main entrance hall did he pause, shaking like a leaf. He did it. He apologized. That's that. Fuck, what was he going to do for the rest of the day? He was too scared to venture outside after all the shit that happened. What if Val's men were out there waiting for him? Or Vox or Velvet? Silently he cursed at himself. He had no choice, he had to stay inside. Resigned to his fate he slinks back to his room where he remained for the day.
~~~~
The weeks crawled on by and the spider was getting increasingly stir crazy. Since the incident at the club, he had been hotel bound. Which meant its residence had plenty of face time with the porn starlet. Well... some of them. It wasn't that he was going out of his way to avoid a certain prong horned deer. Just... not seeking his company as much as he had done in the past. Of course he would exchange pleasantries when their paths crossed, but there was none of that flirty vulgarity that usually went along with it. Even when the opportunities to make an off handed comment came flying his way, he would artfully dodge around it. Which... was very difficult at times.
No, instead it was their resident bartender that was receiving the bulk of Angel's advances. The spider's attention was laser focused on Husker much to his own annoyance. When ever possible Angel sought him out, often loitering around the bar to pester the cat. It was like a fun new, distracting, game for him. He wanted to see how long it would take until the kitty cat crumbled.
But Husker most have spoken to Charlie about all his new found "free time" because she put him to work to decorate the hotel for the up coming holiday, Christmas. Christmas in Hell... And even though he complained, he rather liked having a task to keep his hands and his mind busy. What he was not too thrilled about was the Secret Santa she insisted on doing. Apparently she wanted to get everyone into the giving mood to try to promote the whole redemption bullshit. With his shit luck, he got Al... Merry Fucking Christmas.
Perched high up in the main foyer, Angel tried not to dwell too much on it as he strung up the twinkling lights.
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But as the weeks went on, it was as if Angel was going out of his way to avoid him as much as possible. Oh, he didn't flee at the sight of Alastor, but he clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Even gone so far as to occupy himself with Husk instead.
Which was fine. Really. Alastor was grateful for the lack of flirting in his direction. And being ignored didn't bother him at all. (His shadow, on the other hand, did everything in its power to interject itself to get Angel's attention. Apparently it didn't like someone else getting ear scratches in its presence.)
Alastor had tried to worm his way out of the Secret Santa nonsense. He didn't hate Christmas, but he didn't much care for it either. He was just sort of indifferent to it. However, Charlie was nothing if not persistent, eventually getting him to draw from her little Santa hat if only to get her to stop.
He got Angel. Clearly, the game was rigged.
Well, if he was going to be forced to do this nonsense, he'd do it right. Which meant he needed to figure out what the other wanted. Which called for some deception.
He walked to where Angel was helping decorate. "Angel, would you come down? I require your assistance!"
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Angel nearly dropped the sprig at the sudden appearance of the radio demon, fumbling with it in his claws. But thankfully his secondary set of hands managed to catch it. Okay Angel, act natural. From his lofty perch he peered down at Al.
"Oh yeah? What cha need? I'm in the middle of decorating for Charlie." He didn't make any effort to descend.
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