Chapter Text
The red-clad deer demon walked briskly down the hallway, his default Cheshire grin somewhat strained as he moved with slightly panicked purpose. It had been a very long time – possibly decades – since Alastor experienced that warm, nagging, disgusting feeling deep inside his chest. He had a good mind to write it off as heartburn, but the side of him that wasn't in adamant denial knew exactly what this feeling meant.
And this simply would not do. No, sir! It was downright unacceptable.
The clicks of Alastor's hoof-like shoes momentarily broke through his racing thoughts as he descended the flight of stairs leading directly into the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel. Once there, his blood red eyes quickly scanned the room for his target. When he didn't immediately find him, Alastor's head rotated a sharp 180 degrees to find Husk, who nearly jumped out of his fur at the disturbing sight.
“Yeesh! I wish you wouldn't do that! It's damn creepy,” the cat-like demon growled, narrowing his eyes in disgust. He sighed deeply as Alastor walked over to the bar, dreading what was to come. “What, you want a drink at this time of day? Never figured you for a drunk.”
“No, no! Not interested in –” Alastor paused, carefully considering his situation. He sat down in one of the cushioned seats, stowing away his microphone in a puff of magic. His eyes softened into a tired expression, and the radio static died down completely. “Actually, I think I will have that drink. Wine, if you please.”
Husk's eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by the uncharacteristically melancholy look of the Radio Demon. Grabbing a glass and a bottle of red wine, he eyed Alastor suspiciously as he poured him a drink. If that was all the dapper demon wanted from him, then Husk should be grateful for the simple request and go about his own business. But he'd never seen the toothy asshole like this before, and Husk's eyes gleamed with increasing curiosity.
Setting the glass in front of Alastor, Husk closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Let's hope curiosity doesn't kill the cat this time...
“Hey, uh...” Husk started awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You look kinda out of it. You wanna talk about it or something? I mean, it ain't any of my business, but it might... make you feel better or some shit. I dunno.”
Alastor had been about to down the wine in one smooth move, but paused at the unexpected inquiry. He raised an amused brow at Husk, who crossed his arms and pouted in his trademark surly way. “Well, well! It looks like Charlie's little rehabilitation initiative is working like a charm already! If I didn't know any better, my furry friend, I'd think you actually cared about me.”
Husk frizzled up, scandalized. “I don't! You're a huge pain in the ass! Look, if you don't want to answer the question, then –”
Alastor laughed and held up a hand to stop Husk's inevitable profanity-filled tirade. “My apologies. I shouldn't have poked fun. I actually did want to talk to you about something that's been nagging me for a while now. Not sure if you have any expertise with this kind of thing, though.”
Husk settled down again, crossing his arms. “Oh yeah? Try me.”
Alastor's eyes darted around the room for any potential eavesdroppers. For good measure, his ears flicked to pick up any sounds of those hidden from his piercing gaze. He couldn't risk anyone hearing about this outside of Husk – especially not Angel Dust or Vaggie, of all people. He could barely accept the revelation himself.
Satisfied that they had total privacy, Alastor leaned in closer. “I may have come to fancy someone. Caught feelings, as some might say,” he hissed, wincing slightly at the soft confession.
Husk's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. A tense moment or two passed before he carefully used his clawed pinky finger to clean out a bit of wax from his ears, shaking his head in disbelief. He had obviously misheard.
“Sorry, didn't catch that. For a second there, I thought you said you were in love.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed and his smile twitched, it now more akin to a scowl. “I did.”
Husk simply stared at him, gobsmacked. “You? YOU? You're in love?”
“Sure, yes, whatever!” Alastor's head whipped around to make sure no one had overheard Husk. “And I'd appreciate it if you kept your voice down. This is strictly confidential, between two longtime acquaintances. Understand?” he pressed, his fangs glistening in warning.
Despite the threat, Husk began to grin. It was just so ridiculous: the infamous Radio Demon, smitten? Alastor, a man who'd been infamous during his mortal life for coldly murdering who knows how many innocent people – and reinforced this bloodthirsty reputation well into his time in Hell – was now sitting here confessing to a crush like some hopeless school kid? This was too rich!
“Let me guess: it's that bubbly little princess, isn't it?” Husk snickered, nearly bursting out in outright laughter when Alastor's face lightly reddened and his ears perked at the reference. “I can't believe it! I mean, I did wonder, though. You'll crush a poor bastard's bones if they so much as touch you without your say-so. But you waste no time getting right in Charlie's face whenever you can, and you don't even flinch when she's crushing you in one of those hugs of hers. Looking back, it was pretty –”
“Please don't say it was obvious,” Alastor groaned, rubbing his temple as he felt a headache coming on. “Look, I came to you because I wondered if you might have some advice. To get over it. There's no way I can go around feeling... this. I'm here to see these sinful fools struggle and alleviate my boredom, not fixate on some wide-eyed idealistic princess.”
Husk grinned, shaking his head in a pitying way. “Oh, you're shit out of luck there, Al. Dames have a way of getting under your skin, even if you don't want them to,” he said sagely. “And who says you have to get over Charlie? Hell, she might just like you back, terrible taste aside.”
“Not sure if you've noticed, but she's already spoken for,” Alastor flatly replied, rolling his eyes at the thought of Vaggie. No matter how many times he threatened or shoved her aside so he could have some one-on-one time with Charlie, the fiery woman always found a way to intervene and put a hard stop to his attempts. “It's a small miracle if I can get Charlie alone to talk about anything without her pesky little ladyfriend hovering over us.”
“Since when does anyone in Hell care about getting in the way of someone's relationship?” Husk asked, somewhat baffled at the notion of decorum. “And you don't exactly strike me as the kind of guy who cares about a little competition.”
Alastor drummed his fingers on the smooth counter-top, swirling the contents of his wine glass thoughtfully. Husk was right, of course: when the Radio Demon set his sights on something, it was only a matter of time until it was his. Even when he was just a fresh-faced little radio host, none of the unfortunate souls he'd decided to crush stood a chance of escape once he committed himself to the hunt.
But Charlie Magne was not just any old prey: she was special, something he didn't quite want to capture and sadistically toy with. No, she elicited that genuine desire in Alastor to be a gentleman and woo her with a soft finesse. Like his dear old mother had raised him to do.
He found he rather liked the sound of that – for now.
Husk whistled softly, snapping Alastor out of his musings. The cat demon had been watching him closely as he navigated his complex thoughts. “Wow, you really are into this girl. It's kind of pathetic!”
Alastor's eyes narrowed down to glowing red slits. “You're really testing my limited patience, my feline fellow. I'm not so inebriated where I can't send you flying into those bottles of booze behind you,” he said in a low growl, eyes flicking over the assortment of alcohol behind Husk. The crackle of the usual radio had returned and faint images of dials could be seen in his eyes.
Husk held up his clawed hands defensively. “Woah, calm down. My bad! I'm just... amazed. Why did you come to me for this, anyway?” he asked, pouring himself a beer.
Alastor finally took a sip of his wine, tapping a foot irritably. “You're the closest thing I have to a friend, I think. Well, besides Niffty. And we both know she can't keep a secret to save her life – even if she tried her very best to. I can imagine the little darling getting so excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker that she'd go running straight to Charlie,” he laughed, fondly shaking his head as he spotted Niffty a distance away sweeping up a bit of dirt from a hallway, humming merrily to herself all the while.
“Yeah, you're right about that,” Husk agreed. He couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit flattered that Alastor trusted him with this juicy little secret. He couldn't stand the smug fuck, yet he couldn't deny that he found him intriguing. “Well, I can probably help you out. I had a few girls in my time, you know.”
Alastor's ears perked up and his usual bright smile returned. “You will? Thank you, I really appreciate your – wait. There's a catch, isn't there?” he realized, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
“You know it,” Husk laughed, resting an arm on Alastor's shoulder. “But we can talk about my terms later. For now, just let your ol' pal Husk teach you how to win a girl's heart. This is gonna be a riot,” he snickered, taking another hearty swig from his mug.
It took every bit of willpower in Alastor to not fling Husk in a random direction or snap back with an insult. But then he caught sight of Charlie walking through the lobby with some newcomers. The sweet blonde met his gaze and smiled, waving at him cheerfully as she lead the group on a tour. Despite himself, Alastor lightly wiggled his fingers in a casual greeting. He supposed he could put up with the ridicule and give whatever this was a try. At the very least, it'd be interesting to see where it lead, courting the princess of Hell.
Downright entertaining, even.