Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I think this punishment is as close as we can get to matching the crime without becoming what we seek to stop,” Sera said, gesturing at the window to Hell. “I would just recommend one more thing…”

Suddenly Emily was in the hotel lobby, relaying the order to Charlie and her ragtag team.

“I think it's a great idea!” Charlie beamed. “He'll stay here with us, and we'll rehabilitate him!”

“Mmm,” Alastor purred from the corner. “I can think of some better ideas. Ones that involve disassembling those parts and scattering them across the pentagram. Maybe letting Baxter use his inners to fix the guests’ Wifi problems?”

“Well, speaking of his wires and... you know... the whole TV situation…,” Emily hesitated. Hands fidgeting with each other. “Sera wants to try something... new! I've been ordered to return him to his... human body!” She couldn't help but squeal the last bit. “Sera thinks it could help with the new start. Less powerful. More vulnerable. But also not totally unfamiliar.” Her voice hit a high note on the totally, but her smile remained.

Angel had all four arms on waist and hips when he chimed in, “are you sure that's a good idea? He'd be like the only one in hell that looks human!”

“Well, my dad kind of looks human. Ironically enough....,” Charlie scratched her head.

“Listen, I've never died,” Vaggi chimed in, “but I think having a constant reminder of how you died, probably doesn't leave one in the best mental state to be redeemed.”

“I like this plan,” Husk proclaimed, leaving the bar and walking towards the circle of friends standing around, “only the people in this room will know it's him. And maybe his followers from before but they won't be anywhere near the hotel. The only problem is if Mr. Anti-TV-Pictures will be able to keep it together.”

“Personally,” Alastor replied, leaning over Vox's sleeping tablet head on the floor beneath him, “I'd prefer not having this perverse technology with us.”

“So it's settled!” Emily beamed, knowing that wasn’t what Alastor meant, but taking it as a win all the same. She giggled to herself, “so here I go!”

She threw her arms down towards Vox and channeled energy from what appeared to be the concentrated, pressured look on her face.

Cherri went to laugh but Angel gave her a soft elbow nudge. Everyone silently watched. A bright glow surrounded him. A quick collage of human memories flashed in the magical swirl covering his screen. And when it dissipated, a man lay before them.

Oddly, he seemed immediately more comfortable. Still in a catatonic state, he stretched out and flexed like a house cat, eyes slightly opening beneath thin glasses even though he was still deep in the heavenly sleep.

Charlie gasped and everyone followed her lead in leaning forward over him with wide eyes.

“I'm just gonna say it,” Cherri announced, “he’s hot!”

Vaggi rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but notice Angel, Charlie, Husk, Nifty, and even Alastor with mouths slightly opened, starring.

Husk clocked Alastor, too. Giving Angel a little head nod in Al's direction.

Charlie grabbed onto Alastor's arm and squeezed. “His eyes... are they different colors?! As a human! That’s…”

“Hot,” Cherri finished her sentence confidently.

“Well,” Charlie blushed, looking at Vaggi, who had a you-guys-gotta-be-kidding-me expression. Charlie released Alastor's arm and straightened up.

Alastor also straightened, feeling Husk and Angel's eyes on him. But even he couldn't stop staring. He caught sight of a vein in Vox's neck. It was pulsing ever so slightly. Alastor thought he could smell the living human blood moving under the skin.

“If he’s human,” he looked at Emily, “can he die again?”

“Human bodies are pretty flimsy,” Angel added, squatting down for a better view of the broad shoulders on the ground. Angel slowly removed Vox’s glasses, brushing against the man’s slightly rosy cheeks.

Alastor began tapping his foot. His shadow reached out, swatting Angel’s hand and placing the glasses back on Vox’s human face.

“What? I’m just looking… you wouldn’t be getting jealous, would you?” Angel teased.

Alastor gave a classic exaggerated radio laugh, but before he could respond, Emily jumped in.

“He has all his physical human traits but he is still a sinner,” Emily explained, “He'll regenerate if anything happens to him. And he won't age. I made him the age where he seemed most... happy? I don't know if he was happy... his human life was CRAZY, but he seemed to like the way he looked most in this specific moment.”

“You watched his life?” Husk questioned, taking a swig from his bottle.

“Well, yeah. Me, Sera, Abel, and Sir Pentious. It was uhhh... interesting! There was even an Alastor cameo!” She proclaimed like their lives were available for entertainment. “Well, not really, but he did listen to some of your old recordings when he was in college. I think there was one bit called Jazz with A-”

“I have to stop you there my little cherub! A name is a powerful thing, and I’d rather that stay between us,” he emphasized the last syllable with less threat than he would have liked.

“So he was a fanboy before death, huh?” Angel added. “You really did a number on this one. Maybe you should be a part of his redemption then?” Angel suggested, knowing Alastor would hate the implication.

But Emily and Charlie didn't. Emily flew in the air. “What a wonderful idea! He really looked up to you as a performer, maybe you can use that to help him!”

“Help? Him? Sorry my dears, but I am much too busy for this... thing.” His hand swirled above Vox's body.

“Doing what exactly?” Vaggi questioned. “Afterall, you owe Emily, she saved your life.”

“Ho ho! I was waiting for that to come up.”

“Charlie? You gonna chime in?” Angel asked and they all turned to Charlie who was basically gawking at the man on the floor.

“Oh, of course! Yes. Sorry. This is just the first real human I've ever met and he's just so... lively?”

“You okay, Charlie?” Vaggi asked, feeling somewhere between jealous and curious.

“She’s starring at the smoke show in front of us,” Cherri casually declared, “You can’t deny it. Even Charlie is feeling the heat.”

“What?! No, no no no no. I'm just... excited! About this new development! A new form of like... sinner therapy! Right, Emily?”

“I think that's the exact way for us to think about it!”

“And none of us are thinking about it in any way other than that. Right?” Vaggi asked, scanning all the sinners in the circle.

Just then, Nifty shuffled over, running her fingers through one of the salt and pepper streaks in his otherwise dark hair. Then a scissors materialized in her hand and she stole a small piece. "This will do nicely," she snickered.

That direct contact seemed to jolt Vox awake for the first time since they took him from the Vees. He yawned into his hand, brushed his hair into a perfect wave, and leaned up into a sitting position. They all watched, wordlessly.

“What the hell?” He started, repositioning his thin glasses before opening his eyes fully.

“Yeah, that'll do it for me, I'll be in my room for some private time if anyone's asking,” Cherri announced before turning to leave.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Angel put an arm around and stopped her, “I think this is gonna be a fun little show.”

Vox scanned the room and began to stand. He adjusted his bow tie without looking down. Instead he glared at his surroundings. “Why am I here?”

“For redemption!” Charlie beamed, putting her hands on his shoulders then immediately letting go and backing up. “Sorry! Sorry! I'm just so excited you're here.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure this has been a real treat princess, but I'll be taking my leave now.” Vox pointed a hand towards a nearby electronic and awkwardly stood, in pose, while looking at Charlie.

He tried it again, still making undeterred eye contact with her, but when it didn't work, he finally looked at this hand.

It wasn't an immediate freakout. He slowly brought it in front of his chest with his other hand and began to examine his still long but much less sharp fingers. Blue claws replaced with pale flesh.

“What’s…”

He went to touch this face, missing by a few inches, then finally finding his chin. He slowly felt around his own face. Just as he remembered, strong jawline, long eyelashes, perfectly kept hair.

He began to back up, paying no mind to his surroundings anymore, until he bumped into someone, almost falling over. Alastor's claws crept onto his shoulder, steadying him. “You okay, old pal?” He teased.

Vox swung around so quickly that Alastor’s claw snagged his soft, fragile human skin around the neck, leaving a slight scratch that revealed an almost indiscernible amount of blood.

He pushed Alastor away and began breathing much heavier. “What's happening? Why am I... who... what is going on?” He began patting every part of his body, almost like he was double checking that it was actually his. He looked back at Charlie with genuinely terrifying eyes. He looked so fragile. Almost sweet she thought.

Without warning, Alastor ran his finger along Vox's neck from behind and pressed hard until a little blood leaked onto his claw.

"Red looks good on you, Vincent."

Chapter Text

“Is somebody going to stop him?! Or did you make me human again just so he could eat me?” Vox yelled, arms flailing around, making distance between him and Alastor.

Meanwhile the Radio Demon simply stood by licking his claw clean.

“Kinky,” Angel nudged Husk, who laughed in response.

“On second thought, Emily,” Alastor started, “maybe your idea is exactly right. I will help rehabilitate this sinner.” Alastor pointed his staff at Vox, who had made his way behind Charlie, effectively using her as a shield.

“Ha,” Vox let out a dramatic laugh, though without his static and hypnotic eye, it felt so much less intimidating, and so much more goofy. “You’re going to help me get redeemed? You’re literally a serial killer!”

“See, he’s obsessed with me. Knows everything about me. Come to think of it, he probably based his human life on me, now that I know he was a fan.” Alastor hummed that last word, positioning himself near Emily.

“Pshh… a fan of what? You? You were long dead when I was alive. A relic of the past, old man!” Vox snapped back.

“Oh really?” Alastor’s smile turned into a sinister smirk, “That’s funny, cause our little Emily here was just telling us about how you used to listen to my broadcast. Part of your studies at university, was it?”

“Wha–what? How would– No. No I didn’t.”

“Vincent!” Emily beamed, “It’s okay. You no longer have to be ashamed of yourself. We are all here to accept you and help you become the BEST possible version of yourself!!” 

“Yes, Vincent,” Alastor chimed in, “we’re all here for you…” It sounded like a threat to everyone but Charlie and Emily.

Charlie turned and grabbed Vox’s hands in earnest. She found herself blushing, however, when he shivered under her touch and looked into her eyes. “Would you prefer Vox or… Vincent?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Everyone went quiet, waiting in anticipation. Charlie went to move her hands, but he hung onto them with his, as if he needed something to anchor him to reality. He looked at her and only her, whispering, “is this really happening?” 

“Yes. Your punishment is to be a powerless human, living here as you work towards redemption,” Charlie stated plainly, losing the enthusiasm that she now believed was overwhelming his senses. “And it may very well feel like a nightmare right now. But I hope, with time, that it won’t always be like it is right now. That one way, it won’t feel like a punishment. It’ll be a door that opened. An opportunity. No one here is going to hurt you. Not anymore.” She stole a quick glance at Alastor before returning her gaze.

“Will Valentino and Valvette know what happened to me?”

“No,” Emily drew closer, “that’s part of the arrangement. This is about you. And we’re aware that they might look for you, but for now, we’re going to tell them that you have a sentence that must be served for what you’ve done.”

“You don’t actually want to see those losers, do you?” Husk jumped in. “This is your chance to start over. Take it.”

“They’re my…” Vox stopped, looking past Charlie and to Alastor, whose smile remained, albeit with less of a glow. Vox quickly closed his mouth.

“Friends,” Charlie finished his thought. She pulled him into a firm hug. When they pulled away, she rested her hands on his arms. “I know they meant a lot to you. And we’re not saying you’ll never see them again. But for now, you need space. Trust me.”

He gave a faint smile to Charlie and relaxed under her grip. He didn’t want to leave them, but maybe she was right, he began to think. Maybe this would be better for everyone. Afterall, he almost killed everyone he knew in this afterlife. Maybe he needed to try something new. But trust? Trust wasn’t something he was used to giving; it was something people gave him.

“Vincent,” he nodded, “you can call me Vincent.”

“Well, Vincent,” Charlie smiled wide eyed, like she felt something shift within his soul, “you have very muscular arms!” She found herself gripping his noticeably sculpted human arms through his dress coat.

“Had to look good for TV,” Vincent smiled back with a shrug. He wasn’t used to everyone, especially the good guys, making such a big deal about him. Was that why he was oddly relaxed and less combative than usual? Was he enjoying all the attention from these weirdos at the hotel?

“Anyway,” Vaggi stepped in, giving Vox a skeptical look from behind squinted eyes, “why don’t we get him settled into a room so he can get acclimated.”

“Of course!” Charlie began pulling him towards the staircase, listing out all the amenities the hotel had to offer. “Tonight, you can rest. Tomorrow, we’ll start our first lesson. The theme: saying sorry!”

“Sorry?”

“Exactly! But tomorrow, we’ll get rid of the question mark. It makes it feel a lot more meaningful.”

“Charlie,” Vaggi called, as Charlie began to ascend the stairs, “why don’t we let someone else take care of him? I think he needs a little talking break.” 

He couldn’t lie, he kind of liked having the Princess of Hell fawning over him like he was the only man alive. Which maybe, in hell, he was? So he was a bit let down when she released him.

“I do like to talk. A LOT. But we’ll have plenty of time tomorrow. Why don’t we have…” Charlie glanced around at her options. Alastor? Bad idea. Niffty? Somehow even worse. Husk? Perfect. “Our wonderful bartender, Husk, will show you to your room!” A key materialized in her hand. “I hope you have a wonderful first night. Get some rest.”

Vincent just stood, nodding, and she paced the key in his hand. Her sincerity made him nauseous. He felt a nervous hiccup gathering at his throat, but he managed to push it down. He thought, at that moment, if anyone else had said those things to him, he would have assumed it was some kind of plot. Afterall, Alastor had just totally fucked him with a wordplay deal. But Alastor was right, Charlie was a blindly sincere person.

Husk placed his empty whiskey bottle on the bar and leaned over to grab a full bottle of wine and a glass. “I think you’re gonna need this tonight,” he said as he caught up with Vox and began leading him to the room.

It was smaller than his room in the tower. The view was nothing to boast about. But it was cleaner than he anticipated after hearing the maid’s song. And Husk was probably the most normal of the hotel crew. He brought him to the room, showed him where everything in the room was, gave him a run down of meal times and options. He even showed him where all the light switches were, observant enough to assume that Vox probably hadn’t used a manual switch in a while. Then he left. No questions. No accusations. Just a good night.

Vincent immediately went to the bed and lied down. He felt tired despite just waking up. He slumped down onto the pillow and took a moment to examine his body. In general, his physique wasn’t all that different. Broad shoulders, thinner waist, long legs. But he was more muscular. A bit wider. He didn’t need brute strength in hell; he just zapped whenever and wherever he wanted. But in his life beforehand, he spent a good deal working out. Bodies were much easier to carry and hide when you had good form. His fingers gently moved from his chest to his stomach. He pulled on his perfectly ironed shirt up until he could feel the human flesh beneath it. Soft yet firm and hairy and very, very different from the blue gills he had just hours ago.

His fingers moved to his belt buckle. He was strangely scared to look. What else had changed? He hadn’t been a human in so long…

Just then, as both hands reached for his belt, a shadow appeared on his wall. It shook and swirled around the room and materialized into Alastor’s form, a few feet away from the bed.

“What a coincidence! Just what I wanted to talk to you about!” Alastor announced, staff pointed towards Vox’s belt.

Vincent jolted up in the bed and pushed his legs against the blankets until he was seated against the headboard. “What do you want, prude?”

Alastor took a few steps closer to the bed. He leaned over Vox and took in a sharp inhale, followed by a longer, deeper breath. “I was hoping your blood tasted the same as every demon’s but to my dismay…” Alastor paused, putting a hand on the bed, bending over to meet Vox’s face, “...it tasted just like I remembered. Oh, so human.”

“So, you are going to eat me, you sick fuck! I’ll get Charlie in here. I’ll get all of heaven here. Tell them you’re trying to foil my chance at redemption,” Vincent threatened, placing a dramatic hand across his chest.

“Redemption,” Alastor chuckled, radio static echoing around the room, “we both know that’s a joke. But while you’re here… I was thinking that we make another deal.”

Chapter Text

“Redemption isn’t a joke. We literally saw that idiot in the sky. He made it! I literally tried to kill everyone, but these morons still think I can be better? Maybe I can.” Vincent crossed his arms over his body, looking away.

Alastor went still. His smile remained but the teeth were gone. He had planned to offer Vox something he knew the man had wanted for a long time. But suddenly he was worried that his most reliable enemy was actually, legitimately, going soft.

“Ha…ha…” Alastor kept his composure. “Yes, the snake went to heaven. The one both of us blew up and slapped around for fun time and time again. He was boring. He was simple. But people like you and I? We’re been in the game far too long to give it up now, baby. We’re overlords! We want power, not, I don’t know, frivolous things like happiness.” Alastor practically spit out the word.

“Oh, all of a sudden, we’re best buddies, and you know me so well? I could want happiness,” Vincent mumbled the last part, still facing away.

“A few days ago, you were going to kill me, you, and everyone this side of the pentagram! Permanently.”

Vincent huffed out a small laugh, smiling to himself. “And in that moment, killing you would have made me very, very happy.” After a moment of silence, he finally looked back at Alastor. There was an eerier tension between them. 

Alastor was examining his face and his features. Vincent almost forgot for a moment that he was human, until Alastor reached out a hand to brush against his cheek. His claws felt ice cold to his warm blood. “Al… what are you…”

“I like you better this way.”

“I didn’t realize you liked me at all.”

“Well… not the way you like me,” Alastor sat on the bed, facing him, “but you entertain me. You put up a bigger fight than any of those other overlords. You were willing to kill literally millions of people for me. Including yourself. I’m… flattered.” Alastor began running a finger over Vox’s leg, until he reached the other’s knee and held it under his hand.

In all their time together, flinging drinks back at the bar, stumbling through the streets, never had they ever spent time talking on a bed together. And in a Hell where Vox was made of wire and screws, he would have loved to be in that exact place with him. But as a human, he felt like Alastor’s next meal.

“Yeah, whatever.” Vincent swatted him away and shifted further into the bed.

Had Alastor overestimated the ease at which this agreement would take? He knew he still had some cards to play at least. And he was certain Vox wanted him, though he wasn’t sure what was causing his recoil in this instance. Relationships had never been his strong suit.

“That’s cute,” Alastor purred, “you think you’ve found a new ragtag team of friends to help you be a better person, is that it?”

“Alastor, it doesn’t matter what a psycho bitch you are to me right now. You saw them down there. They were obsessed with the idea of me being redeemed. Charlie was ready to tuck me in and read me a bed time story.”

“Because they think you’re attractive, Vincent, not because they like you. Or because they, dare I say, believe in you.”

“Shut up. That’s not— that’s stupid.”

“I can’t believe you don’t believe me!” Alastor swung his legs onto the bed, spreading out, leaning back on his elbows. “You are the biggest narcissist I know!”

“I guess you’re blind, old man, but they held me captive for like, a few hours, and then immediately gave me a room and a road to being redeemed.”

“A few hours,” Alastor leaned back and laughed. “You were asleep for DAYS. They debated many things to do with you. Charlie didn’t decide this. The higher ups, the ones in heaven, the ones who will never have to talk to you or spend time with you— THEY decided this. Do you think Angel Dust has just forgotten what you did to him? Have you even questioned what he’s doing back at the hotel?”

“I– okay, listen– I didn’t know– today’s been a lot for me, okay?” Vox stuttered, flexing his fingers, secretly trying to create some level of electric to get him out of this.

“You, you, you. It’s all you think about my dear.” Alastor reached out again, this time grabbing Vox’s leg more forcefully. “That little cherub who saved me also saved Angel. Got him out of his contract. Valentino’s punishment. You see, now he has to be nice to you. He has to forgive you. And it doesn’t hurt that you look like… well that now.”

“I’m sorry? Valentino had to give up ONE soul, but I’m a fucking powerless human who's forced to live under the same roof as a notorious cannibal? What the fuck?” He wasn’t feeling very Vincent-like anymore. He was filled with rage.

Alastor leaned up off his elbows entirely and slid his hand further up Vox’s thigh. “There’s the Vox I know. So unfair, isn’t it? Blaming everything on you.”

“Al, what the fuck are you doing?” Again, Vox went to swat Alastor’s hand off him, but this time Alastor’s grip tightened and wouldn’t move. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t like when I touch you this way,” Alastor replied, his grasp moving dangerously closer.

Vox rolled his multicolored eyes. He would be lying if he said no. He was already feeling some heat growing between his legs. But he wasn’t an idiot. “I’m not a fucking idiot Al. You’re a cannibal. I’m a human. You. Want. To. FUCKING. EAT. ME. Velvette explained all this asexual shit to me before. Now get your hands off me.”

With a quick movement, Alastor lunged over Vox, straddling him.

“Mmm,” Alastor hummed, lifting one hand to Vox’s chin, then to his glasses, “I don’t like labels. I do like these.” The two stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever until there was a knock on the door.

“Help?” Vox yelled, but it sounded more like a question.

In came Husk and Angel. Husk looked on with disgust. “What the hell is going on in here? We heard you yelling from across the hall. Al… get off him.” Husk sounded like a middle school teacher at prom.

“He’s trying to eat me!” Vox exclaimed. He pushed against Alastor’s chest but came to the quick realization that his human strength was nothing compared to an overlord demon in Hell.

Alastor just smiled back. “Angel, my good sir. Would you mind entertaining the babysitter for a while? My friend and I were just having a nice conversation.”

“Whatever you say smiles. Husk, let’s go. You can teach me that neat bar trick you were doing earlier.”

“What? You guys are just going to let him cut off my limbs and drink my blood like a fucking milkshake??” Vox was more scared than he had ever been in his afterlife.

“You heard Emily,” Angel replied with a smile, hand moving to the doorknob, “You’ll regenerate in no time.”

“Wait– no, come on— Husk!?”

“Listen, I don't love what’s happening right now. But I do know you were a manipulative, abusive piece a shit to the kid so, if he wants to leave you with Hannibal Lector over here, who am I to stop him?” Husk shrugged, giving Angel a nod. The door closed as quickly as it had opened.

“I thought this was supposed to be like a good place.”

“We’re sinners, sweetheart. Now hold still,” Alastor grabbed Vox’s left hand and shoved the pinky finger into his mouth. He gave a lick, probably more seductively than he meant, and Vox’s head started spinning. Vox’s breath picked up pace. His eyes were wide, and his legs were squirming underneath Alastor, trying to get away.

“Wait— you said something about a deal?”

Chapter Text

Alastor slipped the finger out of his mouth and grinned down at the panting man beneath him. “Hm… yes, I believe I did. You’re not wrong, old pal. I do want to eat you. And I can’t lie, I’m enthralled by the prospect of your fleshy human limbs regenerating over and over again. An endless buffet.”

“You are so disgusting,” Vox replied, a shiver running down his spine. “So what’s the deal?”

“You let me eat you,” Alastor stated. Silence followed.

“Okay… and??” Vox growled back.

“Oh right, something for you.” Alastor released him and began playfully rubbing his chin. “I’m willing to give you what you always wanted. A taste of me in return.”

Vox slumped even further into the bed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to let you cut off my limbs–”

“...cutting. Biting. A mixture of verbs really…”

“And in return, you’re going to what? Fuck me? Is that the deal? Am I getting that right?” Vox hissed, ignoring the interjection.

Again, Alastor was surprised that Vox seemed genuinely disinterested. It seemed like a win for both of them. His smile became closed mouthed again, and he began to think. Had he misunderstood Vincent’s pinning? He had gotten to know many a woman and man in his life before Hell who were interested in him sexually. Of course, they didn’t get deals. They didn’t have the power of regeneration.

Vox didn’t like the silence. And he didn’t like being trapped under this psychopath while in human form. “You don’t even like fucking, why–”

“After all these years, trying to understand each other completely seems so pointless. Vincent, you’re right, I don’t like fucking. It is like flossing teeth at night. It’s annoying, and sometimes even painful, I don’t see why anyone would willingly subject themselves to that every day, multiple times a day.”

“Of course you would think that you yellow-teethed freak,” Vox laughed.

“But–” Alastor put a finger over Vox’s mouth, “Once in a while, when there’s a piece of meat stuck annoyingly in the back of my teeth, I would roll my eyes and say, fine. I’ll use this stupid string and dig back in my mouth like an animal.”

“You literally eat people, but sure, go on with this weird metaphor…”

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re right. It is not something I want. But it is also not something I find completely… let’s say, disgraceful. Afterall, the only times I ever had any sort of impulse to do something remotely like that was after a kill. So, this could work out for both of us.”

“You are so fucking weird,” was the only think Vox could bring himself to say. Here he was, straddled against a man, like a recurring fantasy he’d had probably thousands of times over the decades, yet all he wanted to do was run away.

“And this…” Alastor ran his fingers through Vincent’s silky, perfectly human hair, “maybe I like this. Maybe I like it a lot better than that ridiculous TV you had for a head. Maybe without the TV, I can actually imagine myself near you without wanting to vomit. I did always like your mind more than your body, Vincent.”

Every bone in Vox’s human body tensed up. He forgot what it was like to have fragile bones. But then he thought back to the flashcards Velvette had made for him. “So what are you like…demisexual? That’s like, under the umbrella of…” he began mumbling to himself, trying to remember those god damn flashcards she made him study for a double-pride month campaign she was running.

“Vincent. If you’re trying to communicate with me, you should know I have no interest in learning the in and outs of the sexual deviant dictionary that I’m sure swirls around your little brain incessantly.” Alastor slid his hips down Vox, a movement born out of a desire to put less pressure on his knees, but one that almost sent Vox into a stroke.

Vox took a moment to breathe. Positioning his hands to Alastor’s hips in an attempt to gain some level of control over this situation. But it also appeared that the human figure brought out the nerdy side of him as well, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to correct Alastor. “No, it’s actually not about sex, you see, Vel explained this to me, it’s like a spectrum.”

“Will you shut up?” Alastor put his whole hand over Vox’s mouth this time. “How are you even more talkative now than before?” Alastor sounded exhausted, which almost made Vincent feel bad, until he remembered that it was Alastor forcing him to listen. “Here’s the deal: you allow me to eat pieces of your flesh, without running to Ms. Morningstar about it, and I allow you a sexual favor of my choosing for each limb.”

Vox nervously chuckled underneath Alastor’s hand. His brain was shutting down, but this time, there were no flashing lights or error screens. Just his human face frozen. Weak body held down by his long-time nemesis. He started to think maybe he wasn’t awake. Maybe this whole thing was a dream.

Finally, Alastor moved his hand and allowed Vox to speak. “How do I know you won’t like… I don’t know… bite off my penis?” Vincent winced in a way he hadn’t remembered wincing since he was actually a human. And not an adult one either, by that time he had quite a few people wrapped around his finger. This felt much more dangerous.

“If I do, it’ll grow back,” Alastor threw his head back and cackled. Vox could have sworn he even saw his shadow giggling in the background.

“Not helping.”

“If you do this for me, I will not hurt you outside of designated feeding times. Which would be strictly no less than once a day. But ideally twice a day, depending upon how fast your limbs grow back. We’d have to start small, just in case.”

“Ew, you have this all planned out and everything, don’t you, you little freak? You really want my blood that badly, huh?”

“And skin, veins, bones. Everything you have to offer,” Alastor licked his lips, and Vox couldn’t control his body enough to stop himself from hardening underneath Alastor’s thighs. 

He felt himself starting to sweat a little. He wasn’t really going to do this, was he? An hour ago he was thinking about redemption. Now he was thinking about a cannibal sex deal with this sworn enemy. He thought failing his master plan would mean isolated shame, not this. He got too wrapped up in his own thoughts and didn’t notice Alastor’s hand moving from chest to stomach to belt. Alastor began to swirl his fingers around Vincent’s length, over the fabric of his pants.

“How about this… I give you this one for free. Then you decide?”

Chapter Text

Vincent felt a twitch between his legs as Alastor began gripping him with more force. He felt the ice cold claws wrapping around his cock through his pants. He had thought about this moment a million and one times. He dreamed about feeling Alastor against him, just like this, over and over again. Sometimes with Val, Vox would close his eyes, and imagine it was Alastor’s lips on him instead. He was lost in thought. In sensation. But he snapped out of it long enough to feel Alastor’s other hand exploring his neck. Tickling his Adam's apple, trailing a finger over his collar bone, stopping at the base to feel Vox swallow. He was breathing too heavy now. His chest began lifting on its own. He felt like prey, trapped beneath predator. Which admittedly was a fantasy of his many times over the decades, but only when he had the power to call upon cables of control at a moment's notice. If this didn’t go how he wanted, without his powers, he’d be fucked. And not in a good way. 

Alastor pushed down on Vincent’s chest with his own. “Relax,” he teased. With a snap of the Radio Demon’s fingers, a slow rhythm of Jazz began to play. “I’m going to prove that I, unlike some of your moronic business partners, have something called self control,” he whispered in Vincent’s ear.

The deer slid his body off him, off the bed entirely, with one quick motion, and stood on the side, looking at Vincent with half lidded eyes. He outstretched a hand, curling his fingers up to gesture for Vincent to follow.

Vincent adjusted his glasses which had slid down too far, and his face went bright red. Catching his breath, he swung his legs off the bed but stayed seated.

“Do that again,” Alastor commanded.

“Do… what again?” Vincent asked, sheepishly, like a nervous school boy praying the bottle would land on his crush when it finished spinning. He ran his fingers through his hair and avoided eye contact. With every passing moment, he felt so much more human. So out of place. His pulse was like a roar in his ear— a never-ending reminder of the blood rushing through his weak, thin skin.

Alastor leaned over, pushing Vincent’s glasses down with a mocking flick of his finger. “I like watching you fiddle with these. How human,” he grinned.

Vincent obliged. Mostly because it seemed he did actually need his glasses again. Perfect vision was apparently only gifted to demons in Hell. He glanced down and smirked to himself, thinking how ironic it was that his eyes had been rewarded after dying, despite being a psychotic killer in life.

“What’s bringing you soft thoughts, my dear?” Alastor asked, raising his hand to Vincent’s chin and bringing their gazes back together.

“Oh– um, no, nothing, I’m just, I’m remembering what it’s like to be human.”

The radio static and smooth sounds of jazz vibrated off Alastor’s frame and filled the air around Vincent. It made him miss the sparks and electricity that had, just days ago, floated around his own electric body like another limb.

“I wanted you to stand for this next part, but I suppose…” Alastor purred that last word as he knelt down beside the bed between Vincent’s legs, “I can make this work.”

Alastor quickly slid his hands up Vincent’s thighs, purposely ignoring the heat this time around and instead making his way towards the belt. He began undoing it with painfully slow precision. He could feel Vincent’s heart beating through the jazz. He liked the warmth pulsating off every inch of Vincent’s body. The nervousness— it reminded him of when Vox had just landed and hell. When he was following him around like a lost puppy, looking for his master.

“You know,” Alastor said, as he threw the belt behind him and moved towards the button at Vincent’s hips, “I’ve thought about this before.”

Vincent lifted an eyebrow. He watched Alastor quietly, lips slightly parted, hair dampening with sweat, little gasps of air attempting to slow his deep breaths. “You have?”

“Mmm,” Alastor hummed, “but I hated the idea of finding some mechanical stick shift underneath these clothes.” He carefully avoided eye contact. He focused on the task at hand. He motioned for Vincent to lift his hips up so he could slide the dress pants down. At first, he made it seem like he would be just as deliberate and slow with the blue boxer briefs underneath, but instead, Alastor grabbed the fabric between his claws and, with a swift motion, tore it off. 

Vincent’s cock sprang free, bobbing right in front of Alastor’s face. Vincent tried to move back, further onto the bed, creating distance, but Alastor pressed his claws into the other man’s thighs and kept him at the edge.

Alastor smiled up, teeth in full view, and gave a soft head tilt up towards Vincent, locking eyes, “but this… much more to my liking.” He leaned in and gave it a quick kiss.

Vincent felt his cheeks burn. He thought he was blushing before, but now the heat made him unbearably sweaty and embarrassed. He hadn’t even acted this pathetically as an actual human. He felt like he was short circuiting, but there were no circuits to be found. Just him. And Alastor.

Alastor put a hand to Vincent’s face, steadying him and stroking his cheek. “I told you, Vincent: Red looks good on you.”

Without another word, Alastor forced Vincent’s entire length into his mouth. Vincent swore that Alastor almost started choking, he could see some tears gathering in the corners of the other man’s eyes. When Alastor’s lips tightened around his somehow still growing cock, and began moving up and down, Vincent found his eyes closing. One hand sunk its fingers into the edge of the bed while the other rested against the back of his own neck, grounding him. 

After a few seconds, Vox realized it was all lip. Not really any tongue. Definitely no hands, which would have helped considering, at full mast, Vox was much too large for Alastor’s poor mouth. Vox found himself wondering how many times Alastor had done this. Obviously not as much as Val had. No one sucks as much dick as Val, Vox quipped in his mind. Wait…why was he thinking about Val? At this moment, with the Radio Demon’s lips against his cock, why was Val on his mind? Half the time he fucked Val, he was thinking about Alastor. This was everything he had wanted for as long as he could remember in his demon years, so why was his mind drifting away?

He looked down at Alastor. Inexperienced? No, that wasn’t the problem. Inexperience could be kind of hot. Needy? He wasn’t sure. This just wasn’t how he pictured it. This wasn’t what he wanted.

“Al… I think we should stop.”

He saw Alastor’s ears flick towards him. Vox knew Alastor could hear him. But then the jazz music became louder, too loud for the right mood. Vox felt a tinge of a headache coming on.

“Seriously, Al,” Vox grabbed at those doe ears and pulled Alastor’s head off his cock. “Stop, okay, stop.”

“Stop?” Alastor asked through gritted teeth, leaning away.

Vox took the opportunity to shove himself back into his pants. “Listen Al, I appreciate you trying. I really do. But you and I. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we’ve clearly got different kinks. I think we’re just not… you know… not like compatible… maybe?” He pushed back his hair before peering up at Alastor who was now standing between his legs.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the antlers growing out of Alastor’s head. The green glow painting the walls behind him. A blackness replacing the soft half lidded eyes that were looking up at him just minutes before.

“Not… compatible?” Alastor’s voice rang through the room even though he hadn’t opened his mouth to speak. His eyes turned to clicking radio dials. “You have spent more time being obsessed with me down here in Hell than you spent in that human body the first time around! And now you’re saying that we’re not— COMPATIBLE?”

Vincent leaned his full body into the bed underneath him. He stopped breathing. He looked up at the spreading shadow overhead. Antlers growing towards the ceiling.

“Oh shit–”

Chapter Text

Alastor towered over the bed. He looked down through his demon eyes and watched Vincent’s face carefully. The soft man’s eyes were wide, his pupils so large, he would have missed the contrasting blue and green irises if he weren’t looking carefully. Vincent’s mouth was hung open, teeth chattering in the cold breeze of Alastor’s shadow. Legs kicking up against the bed like a wounded animal backing away on the forest floor. He reminded Alastor of a boy he knew in childhood. 

Sunday morning. His mother smiled at him from across the hall. She was in the chapel kitchen, ladling her famous jambalaya into the bowls of church goers. The air was thick and warm. A white boy approached him, spoon in hand, taking a huge gulp. “Your mom sure knows how to cook.” Alastor nodded, nervously looking towards the wooden panels on the floor. “Hey,” the boy added, “you going to join us later? We're gonna take my father’s rifle and see if we could catch a squirrel.”

“Yeah,” Alastor replied quietly, “sure”

When the boy walked away, Alastor felt a rush of blood to his face. He was thirteen, and it was the first time he had ever felt anything like that. He glanced towards his mom, who tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows lovingly and teasingly, all at once.

They never spoke about it. She could tell he wasn’t particularly interested in romantic courtships. It didn’t seem to bother her. She just always looked on as if the only thing that mattered to her was that he was happy. Would she have cared if the only times he had ever felt anything remotely like that, for anyone, only two or three times in his entire life, were because of a man?

He never asked. She never answered. Now, he’d never know.

As for the boy, he ended up being Alastor’s third kill. Before meeting, an excited Alastor overheard the boy spatting off profanities about Al’s mother to other boys. Saying her kind belonged in the kitchen. It was the way he laughed behind Alastor’s back that really drove him crazy. It was the fuel in driving his knife into the boy’s neck. It was the first time Alastor felt in control of the kill, rather than the unholy instinct controlling him.

Suddenly he snapped back to the present. Vincent under him, bravely lifting a hand up towards Alastor’s ever-growing form, mouthing the words, “Al… are you okay?”

Just before Vincent managed to reach him, Alastor slipped into a cloud and smoke and rematerialized on the other side of the bed.

“We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow, Vincent. It appears I need to reconsider the terms of this deal.” He was out the door before the other man could respond. Alastor didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he slammed the door shut and leaned against it from the other side. He felt his cough gathering in his throat. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be held. Not in a revolting way, but in a safe way. He shivered at the thought with a fake gag. He felt confused. No, he didn’t particularly enjoy having Vox’s sexual organ in his mouth. But he definitely didn’t like hearing Vox telling him to stop.

Who was he to tell Alastor to stop anyway? This was what Vincent had always wanted. Alastor didn’t want to hear him say stop. He wanted to hear Vincent moan the way he himself moaned while devouring the flesh of an enemy. He wanted to hear Vincent saying his name under breathy gasps, with the little noises he remembered hearing while he was tied to that stupid chair. Sure his eyes were closed, but his ears were open, working hard to ignore the disgusting flirtatious words coming out of the overlord’s mouths and instead focusing on the almost sweet sounds that escaped from Vox. They reminded him of the softer, ambitious man he met decades ago.

~~~

“Step number one: learn how to say sorry!” Charlie beamed as she took a seat between Vaggi and Vincent on the rug in her new therapy room.

“I thought step one was ‘say you’ll get it done,’” Vincent quipped with a smirk. 

Vaggi sent him a death stare. “Take this seriously.” Charlie gave her a soft nudge and she added a “please.”

“Sorry…” Vincent murmured. 

“Great! You’re already getting the hang of it!” Charlie grabbed his and Vaggi’s hand at the same time. She nodded for everyone in the circle to do the same.

Vincent looked at the empty spot next to him, just in time for a shadow to materialize and turn into Alastor. “Your hand, my dear,” he ordered, offering his own.

Just before their fingers intervened, however, Alastor was being swatted away from new hand. Lucifer dramatically pushed Alastor to the side and took a seat in between them.

“Hi, I’m Lucifer. You know, King of Hell and all,” he smiled wide, taking Vincent’s hand in his own and giving it a gentle kiss. “You know my daughter, Charlie, yeah her right there, she mentioned that there was a HUMAN here, and I just had to come see for myself. Unlike some of the CREEPS over here,” he gave Alastor a side eye, “I’ve got a pretty good track record with humans. While they’re alive, of course.”

“Right, because once we’re dead, you consider us all… oh what was it… LOSERS?”

“Please ignore the deer. It’s his mating season, and he can’t find a doe who can stand being around him for more than five minutes,” Lucifer laughed manically at his own joke, intertwining his and Vincent’s fingers together, “besides, I know warm blooded humans can’t stand the cold touch of these demons.”

“You’re a demon,” Alastor replied simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Semantics. I’m really an angel,” he said, eyes kept strongly on Vincent’s, “nice warm touch, right?”

“Sure…” Vincent smiled back, half scared and half intrigued.

“And I’m SO RUDE! What’s your name, love?”

“Not that he’ll remember…” Alastor mumbled under his breath.

“Dad,” Charlie interrupted, “you remember Vox from, you know, the death weapon last week.”

Lucifer squinted his eyes in concentration, then opened his eyes as wide as they could go. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, no, no, can’t say I remember you, but I will for now on. V– Vo– No. Vince was it?”

“Close, actually. It’s Vincent.”

“Vincent. Yes, well I’m so glad to have an actual human around here. I haven’t seen one in AGES. I guess my wife counts as a human but haHA— even then— ages, really,” he leaned back with a nervous giggle.

“ANYWAY, DAD,” Charlie took back control of the session, “thank you for stopping by. Now let’s talk about forgiveness. I thought, if Angel was okay with it, that we could do a fish bowl method. The two of you will go to the middle, supported by all of us around you, and you can apologize to Angel for, you know, hypnotizing him without his consent, hitting him, basically everything about your relationship before. Okay– go!” 

She detached their hands and began shoving him towards the middle of the circle where Angel was beginning to sit. Angel put two arms behind him to lean on and the other two stayed folded over under his chest.

“So Angel Dust…” Vincent started, one hand rubbing his neck and the other awkwardly drumming at his knee, “I want to apologize for…” Out of nowhere, Vincent felt a lump in his throat. He glanced back at Charlie’s infectious smile. For once in his afterlife, he actually wanted to apologize, it felt so out of place. He actually wanted the people in this room to like him. But where would he even start? He was an absolute fuckwad to Angel, time and time again. What could he say to make that better?

“You know, I’ve already decided to forgive you,” Angel leaned his head to one side and shrugged, “so no pressure. Just, say what you’re feeling.”

“Wait. Re–really? But why? I haven’t done anything to repay you for being an asshole.”

“Oh,” Angel stopped him, “you were way more than an asshole. You literally terrorized me. But I actually believe in his forgiveness, repentance, redemption shit. So yeah. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me. I want to tell my sister all about how I conquered my demons, or whatever the hell Charlie is always yapping about, when I see her again up there. No offense, Charlie.”

“None taken, Angel! You’re doing great!”

Vincent looked around nervously. “Bu-but I don’t deserve it. I am a horrible person. When I was alive. When I was dead. Even no-now. I’m not magically better just because I look like my old-asshole-self again.” Vincent’s words began spilling out, loud and more forceful, even though it seemed more and more like he was just talking to himself.

“Hey,” Charlie moved from behind him, placing her hands around his shoulders, coaching him to breathe normally again. “Before we start spiraling, let’s just start with a sincere sorry,” she lifted her hand and gestured towards Angel.

“Sorry,” he said, quietly but firmly, looking at Angel directly.

Angel scooched forward, until their knees were touching. One of his four hands took Vincent’s chin in hand and gave it a playful squeeze. “Thank you,” Angel shrugged casually. “You’re lucky you’re cute. But this doesn’t make us friends, just to be clear. Just means I might stop Smiles from trying to eat ya next time.”

Like a dart, Alastor’s shadow smacked Angel’s hand away from Vincent’s face. “Whoops,” he said plainly. 

“I think that’s good for right now. You guys can get going. I will talk to you later, Vincent,” Charlie declared, “right now, it’s time for Angel’s one-on-one session.”

Alastor went to approach a smile-stricken Vincent, but Lucifer’s hat was in his way.

“If you’re free, I could show you my duck collection,” Lucifer offered, wrapping an arm around Vincent’s waist, “it’s pretty big! Haha– wait—but yeah, anyway, it’s right in my room. I made a little museum display. I’ve never been to a human museum, but I think staring at pretty things is NEAT. Maybe you can give me some pointers?” Lucifer’s voice trailed off as he led Vincent into the hallway.

Alastor watched, cursing behind his bared-teeth smile. How was everything going so increasingly the opposite of his way?

Chapter Text

The door swung open, revealing a very bright and very yellow room. If Vincent hadn’t understood what Lucifer meant by ducks before, he certainly did now. 

Alastor stood in the doorway, like a watchdog, tapping his foot impatiently. “You know,” Alastor chimed in, dragging his last syllabus with radio static, “I was tasked with keeping watch of this human.”

Lucifer quickly spun around and pointed at the No Alastors Allowed sign in the hallway. “They didn’t teach you how to read, huh?” Then, with a snap of Lu’s fingers, the door slammed in Alastor’s face. He let out a snarl.

“Alastor,” Vaggi called from the stairwell, “I need to talk with you.”

He turned on his heel and marched over, “yes my dear, what can I help you with?”

“Well, as you know, tomorrow I’ll be visiting Heaven for a few weeks. So I really need you to help Charlie out. Like actually help her. Not just walk around being a prick to everyone.” 

“Mhmm, yes dear, I can do that,” he replied, looking over his shoulder, back at Lucifer’s door.

“Are you even listening to me?” Vaggi asked, wings giving herself a light boost to see what Alastor was looking at.

“Of course. I will help Charlie. I will be a graceful host.” 

“To everyone.”

“To everyone.”

“Not just Vox.”

“Not just– what are you implying?”

“That you’ve got a few screws loose,” Vaggi floated between Alastor and his view of the door, “and I need to make sure everything keeps working. This could really be great for Charlie, the hotel, all of Hell really.”

“Hmm… I’m sure it could.”

“So, keep your hands off Vox, you hear me?”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of putting my hands anywhere near that insipid man.” 

Vaggi rolled her eyes. “You can lie to Charlie, Husk, yourself, whatever, but you’re not fooling me. You’re practically drooling with jealousy right now. And I can’t have whatever weird thing is happening here mess up Charlie’s dreams.”

“Funny, yesterday you seemed awfully jealous yourself my dear.”

“Yeah, and unlike you, I can admit it. I don’t like that he’s here. And I don’t get what everyone is falling all over about. He just looks like a normal guy. So yeah, I’m jealous Charlie keeps touching him, but not because I’m worried she’s going to like stop loving me. No matter what happens, we’re in this together. But because I don’t trust that bastard not to use something like that against Charlie. She’s too trusting; we both know it.”

“Fine. I will make sure that our human guest stays the course, I will not interfere with his redemption arc, and I will do nothing to derail your princesses grand plans. Will that make you happy?”

“Yes, actually,” Vaggi's face softened, “it would make me happy.”

Just then, Charlie came gliding up the stairs to meet them. She was at the end of some happy-go-lucky song when she stepped between them, grabbing each by the shoulder and squeezing them all into a hug.

“This is going to be wonderful. We’ve got Angel. We’ve got Vox. We’ve got you, Alastor, back at 100% power, and you, Vaggi, going to help start a Redemption Center in heaven with the help of former exorcist angels. Things LITERALLY could not be better!”

“I’m glad you’re excited, babe. Alastor and I were just talking about how he can help while I’m away–”

Charlie’s eyes burst with hearts, “you two are so good to me, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you! I am so EXCITED for the FUTURE of our hotel!!!” She grabbed Vaggi by the waist and began twirling her around. Alastor took a step back, leaning on the wall, watching Lucifer’s door again.

“Whoa, put me down, babe!”

“I can’t believe we’ll be apart for so long, but I’m so glad you’ll be able to see some of your friends again!”

“I wouldn’t exactly say friends. More like colleagues…” Vaggi put a hand to the back of her hair, suddenly feeling nervous about her trip.

“Well, Emily told me they freed some angels from a locked cell where Lute was keeping them. Some girls who had been punished before. Maybe the girl you mentioned to me is up there?”

“Wha– really? Emily said that? I didn’t even know that they were keeping ex-soldiers alive. They just left me down here. I figured not everyone was lucky enough to be found by a beautiful princess,” Vaggi grabbed Charlie’s hands in her own. “But that’s amazing. I can’t wait to see everyone.”

“I know! And you’re going to help them feel more comfortable in the world, out of Adam’s horrible regime, and they’re going to help us. And we’re going to make the afterlife a better place.”

“And you’re not jealous that I’m basically going to see my like… ex-girlfriend for weeks? Without you there?”

Charlie just smiled down, holding Vaggi’s chin in her hand, “Vaggi, no matter what happens, I know I have you. And you have me. And even if you share a tender moment with someone else, nothing is going to change what we have.”

Vaggi grimaced, though Charlie interpreted it as a genuine smile. “You’re just so trusting and loyal and… I don't know how you do it.”

“I was in a polyamorous relationship once!” Charlie reminded her, “And there is no room for jealousy in love.”

“None at all?” Vaggi nervously laughed, “you’re not just saying that cause you’re going to be here with your new human guest who you seemed kinda into yesterday without me here for weeks on end?”

Charlie recoiled, giggling, “I don’t what you mean! I was just excited to have a human around! Besides, that’s Vox, you know, the guy who had me crying on stage in front of all of Hell last week? I’m not— psh, I wouldn’t— although he does already seem like a new person, doesn’t he? I think Sera was onto something with this whole human body idea!”

“Wow. That whole thing didn’t manage to make me feel better at all.”

“Vaggi, have no fear. No one in this hotel is thinking about anything but REDEMPTION!” Charlie swung her hand in the air like a superhero launching a new catchphrase. 

“Right… that’s why your dad has Vox locked in his room right now.”

“Who? My– MY dad? Has Vincent in his room? Why– what are they doing in there? Vaggi, why didn’t you tell me this? Last time my dad was alone with a human, he changed the course of LITERALLY all of existence for EVERY human and…” she was beginning to run out of breath listing off all the things that happened as a result of Lucifer finding Lilith and falling in love. Her hooves couldn’t make it to the door fast enough.

“Like father, like daughter, you know,” Alastor whispered in Vaggi’s ear before following Charlie with a glowing grin. Vaggi trailed behind, cursing him under her breath.

As Charlie opened the door, a beam of heavenly light almost blinded everyone in the hallway. In the middle of the room was Lucifer, hands over his head, shooting fireworks that curved into the shape of rubber ducks. Across from him was Vincent, legs crossed, sitting on a chair with a small yellow duck in his lap. This plushie duck had glasses, black hair, and heterochromia.

“Charlie!” Lucifer yelled, grabbing her hand and dragging her in, “look, I made your human friend his own duck. Isn’t it cute?”

“It’s so cute, Dad!” Charlie replied with an ounce of skepticism as she cautiously examined the room. “And that’s all you’ve been doing in here? Making ducks?”

“There was mention of a swan or two,” Vincent shrugged, eyes falling over to the door and locking onto Alastor.  As Charlie and her dad began to talk about how beautiful swans were, Vincent silently mouthed “get me out of here” to Alastor.

“Charlie, I think our friend here is looking a bit tired. Busy morning for a newly reformed criminal! Perhaps it's time for a pause d'après-midi.”

“Really? French?” Lucifer leaned against his cane, “didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”

Alastor rolled his eyes, confidently stepping in for the first time, knowing Lucifer wouldn’t do anything to stop him even if he could, not in Charlie’s presence at least. He strolled to Vincent and put out a hand to help him stand. Vincent grabbed it in return, giving him a secret look of thanks. Alastor suddenly felt like he was going to get his old pal wrapped around his fingers in no time. After all, he had considered a few steps he might take to secure his deal while ignoring Vaggi in the hallway.

“I’m gonna keep this in my room,” Vincent said while waving goodbye, duck tucked under his arm.

“See that Charlie,” Lucifer gloated, “I’ve always had a way with humans.”

Chapter Text

“Thanks,” Vincent shyly admitted as he followed Alastor.

“Not having fun with the Morningstars?” Alastor hummed, back to Vincent, leading him upstairs.

“I was not sure what I was expecting to find in the room of the King of Hell, but it was not that! Reminded me of having eccentric guests come on my show. Some of the backstage asks were crazy!” he ran his fingers through his hair, but not as a nervous tick, more out of conceit. He was getting used to having hair again. He forgot how much he missed it. How important it was to have it land just right.

“I’ve had similar experiences,” Alastor agreed, “some people are… theatrical, I suppose.” 

“Makes me wonder what your room looks like,” Vincent glanced down at the floor, inspecting his shoes. They were also from this nightly talk show era. He didn’t notice that Alastor had stopped in his tracks, forcing the two to collide.

Vincent stumbled for a moment, hands slipping around Alastor’s waist, pushing Alastor’s back into his own chest in an attempt to stop either of them from falling. After gaining his footing, he released Alastor like one releases a pan on the stove upon realizing it’s hot. He took a few steps back and said, “uh… sorry? Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s no problem, old pal,” Alastor replied, turning towards him and dusting invisible lint off his coat. “I was just about to offer you a tour of my room, if you’d like.”

“Oh, really?” Vincent asked in disbelief. Alastor could have sworn he heard an undertone of enthusiasm. But then Vincent rolled his eyes, “Wait, is that like your feeding area or something?”

“No funny business,” Alastor grinned without teeth, “I promise.” Then he led them both on a detour to his room.

Just as they approached the red adorned door, Niffty and Baxter were exiting.

“Alastor! Your room is sparkling clean, just how you like it!”

“Why aren’t you the best housekeeper this side of the Pentagram?” Alastor’s radio voice blasted through the hall.

Niffty began climbing Alastor’s coat and sat on his shoulder, maniacally laughing. Vincent felt a pang of jealousy poking at his brain. He had only ever touched the man’s shoulders, which he found out recently was apparently the worst offense in the world, but here this brat was, literally sitting on them!

“I do have to ask, however,” Alastor’s voice lowered, as did he gaze to the floor to inspect Baxter, “what he was doing in there.”

“It’s called parallel play,” Baxter replied, eyes unable to peel from his notebook, “she cleans. I write.”

“Yes!” Niffty hissed in Alastor’s ear.“And he didn’t touch any of my things?” Alastor lifted an eyebrow.

“No! Or else,” Niffty drew her needle like a sword, “STAB.”

“My girl! Now aren’t you the pinnacle of loyalty! You two run along now,” Alastor’s voice deepened, “I have a guest.”

It was now Niffty’s turn to do the eyeing, and she looked Vox up and down suspiciously. Then she whispered something into Alastor’s ear. He began to cackle, but she tapped him like a child on Santa’s lap to regain his attention, and kept going. Alastor’s expression changed, and he started to roll his eyes but then stopped himself.  “I will take that into consideration my dear Niffty,” he responded plainly. 

She jumped down from his reach and looked up at Vincent who was awkwardly smiling down. Out of her pocket, she pulled a clump of his hair, showing it off, before grabbing Baxter and running down the hall.

“Wait, was that mine?” He began feeling around his head.

“Pay no mind, Vincent. Come see my room,” Alastor directed, room key in hand.

“What was she saying to you?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Just giving some unsolicited advice, as friends do,” Alastor opened the door and entered his room.

“I thought you didn’t believe in friends,” Vincent retorted mockingly.

Alastor thought that comment would get under his skin. It was almost too easy sometimes. “I don’t.”

It was a lot to take at first. So much smaller than Lucifer’s room, and yet so much more to dissect. He wanted to look at the bookshelf, interested in knowing what Alastor deemed worthy enough to read. But he just couldn’t ignore the portal into a bayou. He stepped past Alastor, almost forgetting he was there for a second. He walked directly into the calming scene, his ears filled with the sound of low cricket hums and his eyes following the passing fireflies.

“Did you do this yourself?”

“Mhmm,” Alastor said, leaning his staff on the floor, taking off his coat and draping it over a chair, “All by myself.”

Vincent was touching the foliage when he heard the soft splash of Alastor’s steps behind him. “This is impressive. Does it stay like this, even when you leave the room?” He turned to ask more questions but was surprised to find how close Alastor was standing.

“Yes. I like to know I have a little piece of home to return to at night,” Alastor shared, and it was one of the only times since their not-a-friendship ended where Vincent thought that Alastor was being honest.

“So you really didn’t lure me in here to take a bite out of my arm?”

“Well,” Alastor leaned closer, enjoying the anticipation pulsing underneath Vincent’s skin. The rush of blood sounded like a wave crashing in the ocean to Alastor’s sensitive ears, “I considered it. I considered just taking a bite without asking. Without waiting for your permission.” Alastor paused, examining Vincent’s eyes. Moving from blue to green and then blue again. He couldn’t decide which one he'd rather look into. “I even considered that you might prefer it that way. Me ravaging you without asking. Taking your body as if you were mine.”

Vincent found himself pinned between Alastor and the tree behind him. He was terrified but also somehow blushing. He took a deep breath, worried that now was not the time for joking around, but he just couldn’t help himself. “You know, for someone who doesn’t like sex, everything you say is laced in innuendo.”

Alastor found himself inspecting Vincent’s mouth as he spoke. He enjoyed gaining a few more inches of height on his rival since the transformation. It made the power dynamic all the more delicious. And that seemed as good an opening as any.

“Only for you,” Alastor whispered, then closed his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on Vincent’s lips. He leaned back just as quickly and forced himself to reopen his eyes to see the other man’s reaction.

If Vincent had any wires left in his head, they would have been fried. His cheeks turned somehow even more red. Alastor savored the sight. 

“What…what was that? Why did you do that?” Suspicious laced his tone.

“Just some advice I received from a friendly maid.”

“She told you to kiss me?” Vincent couldn’t help but smile through his nervousness. His back still pressed firmly against the free.

“She gave me some suggestions on how one might go about being less intimidating than usual, I suppose.” Alastor shrugged, as if he didn’t fully see the need to change his strategy. Although it was clear from Vincent’s reaction: Niffty was right. Sometimes gentleness can do the trick. Alastor was worried his wordiness would reveal some of his own off-balanced feelings, but Vincent didn’t seem to notice.

Vincent was too concerned with feigning his own indifference. “I didn’t realize the maid service was so holistic here,” he simply commented. Alastor patiently waited for more words, until Vincent weakly added, “you know, it’s pretty humid in here. Have anything to drink?”

“What would you like?”

Chapter Text

Before either of them knew it, they were three whiskeys in.

Vincent and Alastor sat across from each other, each in his own velvet red, high backed chair. Top buttons had been unbuttoned. Ties were loosened. Legs were spread.

“I’m FUCKING TERRIFIED,” Vox proclaimed with a half-laugh, half-wheeze. The kind that reminded Alastor of nights at the jazz club, drunken friends filling the air with roars of equally drunken laughter. “One day, I’m planning to take over heaven! The next, I’m in this– this– weak, feeble body, no powers, and everyone being fucking nice. Even–,” he stopped to take another swing from his glass, the shadows instantly refilling it, “even you! You’re being nice to me! Like really, what the FUCK is happening? I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from the most crazy trip I’ve ever gone on. Find out Val drugged me as payback or some shit.”

Alastor chuckled along with him, although he couldn’t help but tense up at a mention of the moth. He watched Vincent take another sip and scanned his arms and legs. He certainly didn’t look feeble... But Alastor had to make fun of him all the same, “yeah, you really did manage to fuck that whole plan up, didn’t you?”

Vox sighed and leaned deeper into the chair. “Watch it,” is all he replied. 

“Or what? You’re going to hurt me?” Alastor laughed, “You could barely touch me before. Now? Now you’re hopeless.”

Without a word, Vox began rubbing his hand against the arm of the chair. Alastor was startled, worried it was some sort of sexual mating call. However, his anxieties were alleviated when Vox leaned across the space between them, poking Alastor’s hand, sending a spark of static electricity from one man’s hand to the other. “There’s more where that came from,” Vox fell back into his chair cackling.

“Are you drunk already?” Alastor teased, realizing that Vincent’s human body may not be as acclimated to Hell’s liquor as Vox’s head was.

“From a couple drinks? No way, old man. I’m just having a good time,” Vox declared, lifting his legs to lean on the coffee table beside him.

There was a moment of comfortable silence between them. Alastor added his own foot to their makeshift foot rest. He swirled his glass around, watching the liquid swish from side to side. Then he stole a glance at Vox, who was seemingly mesmerized by the way the fireflies danced on their side of the room. 

“Truth or dare?” Vox asked, breaking the soft tension that had begun to feed off the absence of bickering. 

“Truth,” Alastor stated plainly. And if Vox wasn’t already slipping into his most unguarded self, he may have been annoyed at how unaffected Alastor seemed by the question.

“What are you doing here?” Vox looked back toward Alastor, seemingly asking in earnest, “Why are you wasting your time at this dingy hotel? You don’t want to be saved.” He took another deep gulp of liquid courage and began to stare Alastor down.

“Truth? At this exact moment, I’m not doing anything. Just stalling, until the right moment, that is…” A sinister undertone coated each word.

“Right moment for what?”

Alastor pointed and finger up and began flicking it like a metronome. “Tsk, tsk, Vincent. That’s not how the game goes. I answered honestly. Now it’s my turn to ask you… truth or date?” Alastor grinned through wide open teeth, staring down his prey.

Vox leaned up from his chair, knocking back another glass like it was water. “Dare.” He dramatically leaned over, slamming his cup down on the table in victory.

“Dance with me.”

Vox hadn’t really felt the alcohol hitting him until that moment. He had thought about dancing with Alastor before, sure. Static and radio waves mixing in the night air. They had gotten close to it, once or twice at a bar, swaying to the music when an older, mature singer got on stage and began to sing with a full band in the background. But it never happened. And now that the offer was in front of him, it somehow felt much less real than the mere possibility had felt way back then.

Yet, before him, clear as day, stood Alastor with an outstretched arm, beckoning him to join.

“No music?” Vox whined while taking Alastor’s hand and following him to the center of the bayou. 

With a dramatic snap of the fingers, music began playing on Alastor’s record player. Not just any song, one Vincent recognized. There was a moment of static, then clear words: Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine?

Alastor wrapped his hands around Vincent’s neck and began to sway to the music. Vincent returned the touch by gently putting his hands near Alastor’s waist, unsure what the exact boundaries of this dance were.

Vincent smiled to himself, making it too obvious that he was holding a thought back.

“What?” Alastor commanded, too cold for the atmosphere he had created.

Vincent shrugged, shaking his head and looking down, unable to wipe the grin from his lips.

“Tell me what’s so amusing,” Alastor growled, less cold, but slightly irritated.

“I thought I caught you sneaking a glimpse at the screen during movie night from your chair. Didn’t peg you for a Back to the Future kind of guy,” Vincent tilted his head to one side with a smirk.

“You really are…what's the word the kids use? A dork?” Alastor rolled his eyes, intertwining his fingers behind Vincent’s neck and forcing their bodies a little closer.

“Who’s obsessed now?”

…my darling dear, love you all the time…

Alastor’s smile closed, but his eyes stayed locked onto Vincent’s, once again dancing from blue to green and back again. 

When the song stopped, Alastor leaned into Vincent’s hair and whispered, “you’re making this so much more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I’m not–I’m not trying to be–” Vincent stuttered as Alastor’s breath brushed against his ear.

“A brat?” Alastor finished his sentence, leaning back and grazing Vincent’s bottom lift with one of his claws. His other hand slowly took the glasses off Vincent’s face. He threw them to the side and took Vincent’s chin in his hand, lifting it to meet his. “I just want a little taste.”

Vincent instantly let go of Alastor’s waist, forgetting he had still been holding on. It stumbled back a few steps, half from fear, half from the whiskey. “I’m so stupid. How did I forget that that’s all this is to you? Getting your next meal?” He ran his fingers through his hair as he moved to pick up his glasses.

But one of Alastor’s tentacles reached out and stopped Vincent from moving. Instead, it wrapped around his hips and began carrying him to Alastor’s bed. “If this is gonna end in another lousy blow job attempt, I think I’ll pass,” Vincent yelled, trying to swat the shadow away to no avail.

Alastor materialized next to the bed as the shadow pinned Vincent down, now with a familiar purple bottle in his hand.

“Is that…” Vincent started but froze when he saw Alastor turn the bottle and begin unscrewing the cork.

The bottle read Don’t Be a Bitch Juice.

“I hear this one isn’t as high of a seller as your acquaintance’s other drinks, but I think it’ll do quite nicely for what’s about to come next,” Alastor grinned. He walked to the talk and grabbed a glass of whisker. It was downed in one gulp and quickly replaced with the purple elixir. 

“Listen, Al, I don’t know what you’re planning on doing, but that stuff is made for sex, not torture,” Vox trying to keep his voice calm, but Alastor could hear his heart beating faster.

“Potato, pa-ta-toe,” Alastor chuckled behind his gritted teeth, bringing the cup down to Vincent’s mouth, “open up.”

“I’m not drinking that. You just don’t want me to scream when you start sawing my leg off or some shit!” Vincent began to squirm violently under the shadow tentacles.

“That’s no fun,” Alastor announced. He climbed up onto the bed and straddled Vincent, pinning him down more thoroughly. “I’m sure Velvette went through a lot of trouble making this. You’re telling me she never tried any on you before?”

“What?” Vincent laughed, unsure if Alastor even understood what he was asking. “Velvette? You think Velvette would drug me with a sex potion?”

“I just assumed she was as obsessive and disgusting as your other associate,” Alastor mocked.

Vincent paused from his laughter to let out a drunken hiccup. He sighed before realizing Alastor’s face remained serious. “Velvette? Velvette isn’t into me. If anything, it was the other way around.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t get all judgmental on me. Vel is hot. Anyone with eyes can see that. She’s a literal doll, hello??” Vox sounded offended, like Alastor was judging his taste.

“She’s a woman,” Alastor responded, and, despite the death tentacles surrounding the room, the air lost some of its eerie tension.

Vincent opened his mouth to laugh but nothing came out. He realized Alastor wasn’t just teasing; Alastor the Great was actually confused. “Uh, yeah Alastor, I’m aware.”

“But you-”

“Like getting dicked down by guys?” Vox rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t mean I have to be exclusive. Not that getting it from Val was any consolation prize. Val was one of the best lays I had. He was a real giver, at least–”

Without warning, Alastor thrust his hand in Vox’s mouth, stopping him from saying any more. “What did I tell you about saying that NAME?” Alastor warned from the speakers overhead. Eyes replaced with radio dials. 

For a moment, Alastor considered taking a second to explore the possibility that his overreaction might be because he could maybe not bear to think about Vincent’s body being anywhere near that neanderthal of a moth. But he just as quickly swatted that idea from his mind. Alastor was just hungry, obviously.

Before Vox could even register what was happening, Alastor forced the purple elixir down his throat. One of his hands was being stretched out over a plate that had materialized from thin air. The tentacles forced his fingers apart. He watched in horror as Alastor pulled a meat cleaver out of the grey mist. 

“Now hold still, I wouldn’t want you to make a mess in my room.”