Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since the birth of Angel Dust and Alastor's child, and Alastor was fucking sick and tired of Valentino's somehow persistent nagging of Angel, all the fucking texts, voicemails, everything. If it wasn't for the fact that Angel had specifically begged for Alastor not to confront Valentino, Alastor would have already ripped the little cunt's head off and paraded it down the streets of Hell.
"What'cha thinkin', baby?" Angel purred, straddling Alastor's lap, as he had been doing frequently ever since he had given birth to their new son, Nathaniel.
"Oh, nothing, mon amour." Alastor said, pulled out of his brooding by Angel.
Angel shrugged, and happily busied himself with creating hickeys on Alastor's neck, clearly happy with his regained power to do whatever he wanted now that his baby bump was gone.
"Has Valentino sent you any new threats today?" Alastor asked suddenly, unable to rid himself of the worry about his beloved son and boyfriend being in any amount of danger from that sadistic pimp.
"Mm... do we have to talk about motherfuckin' Val right now?" Angel griped, reluctantly pulling away from Alastor just enough to make proper eye contact with him.
"Answer the question, Anthony." Alastor growled, the use of Angel's real name making Angel frown.
"Yeah. What does it matter to you? He's just background noise at this point, Smiles." Angel admitted.
"Just curious." Alastor said in a ominously dark tone which made Angel worry.
"Now, don't go all batshit crazy on me and decide it's a good day to go killin' Val. That fucker is probably just trying to bait you into some kind of trip or somethin'." Angel cautioned, but Alastor bristled at this.
"You think I don't know that?" He asked, and for a second, his smile turning into the closest thing to a frown possible for him.
"Of course I know that, baby. It's just... what if he does capture ya? I can't raise a kid on my own. Little Nathaniel will probably have to live with his daddy bein' a hooker again." Angel pleaded.
Alastor's head snapped instantly to face Angel, a trick he still found creepy.
"You will NEVER go back to that life again, do you hear me, Anthony?" Alastor said, the radio static from his staff intensifying tenfold. This made Angel want to submit, to look down and fucking roll over and expose his stomach like a puppy, but he stayed atop of Alastor.
"Then please, for me and the kid, don't go and do somethin' stupid." Angel implored Alastor.
"Fine. If you insist that I don't erase that little shit from the face of Hell, then so be it." Alastor growled, finally looking away and crossing his arms.
"Wow, Smiles. I didn't know ya had such a bad mouth... me likey." Angel purred, trying to ease the tension.
"Really, mon cher? Not now." Alastor growled, and Angel groaned, getting off of Alastor and sitting down next to him on the couch, slinging his 6 arms around Alastor.
"You gotta move on, baby. I have. I just don't read the stupid fuckin' messages." Angel pleaded, but Alastor merely made a scoffing sound.
Finally, Alastor turned around to face Angel, and the phony smile was back on his face, looking even more strained than normal.
"I can't 'move on'. That pestilential moth is threatening what is mine." Alastor growled, and it was at that point that he made a decision.
"I shall be back in a couple of hours. Wait here, and don't. Move." Alastor commanded Angel, who remained where he was obediently.
Soon after, Husk came into the lounge, holding two bottles of whisky and wearing a face of genuine sympathy and care.
"Hey, kid." Husk said, sitting down next to Angel, offering a bottle of whiskey to Angel, who took it and took a sip.
"Boss told me he had to go somewhere, and told me to look after you. Didn't say where." Husk said, a questioning tone to his voice, as if Angel had an answer to give.
"I don't know either. Fuck, Husk, I-I think I pissed Al off. And now he's probably doing something super dangerous and impulsive just cause I pissed him off." Angel said, tears welling in his eyes.
"Hey, no. No crying on my watch. Now stop being such a bitch and finish your drink already." Husk jested, and his dry humor made Angel laugh softly.
"Hey, who knows? Maybe there's a one in a million chance hes not off doin' something that will end up with him gettin' himself killed." Angel said, a watery laugh escaping him.
Alastor was walking the fastest he'd ever walked in his corporeal form before, heading to his set destination; Vee Tower.
He glared at every security camera he could find along the way, making each one he glared at short circuit. It was time that he finally did what he planned to do but never could every fucking time Valentino had tried to take Angel away from him. Angel was his.
When Alastor arrived outside of Vee Tower, he just stood there, looking up at the top floor, and then called: "Vox! I've got a message for you!" In a sing-songy voice.
Soon, Vox materialized in a spark of electricity from a camera, brushing a invisible speck of dust from his suit jacket.
"What is it, Radio Demon?" He asked, feigning disinterest.
"You can drop it, I know you have certain... feelings for me. I don't care, however!" Alastor said, and had to continue by talking over Vox's insults and spluttered denials of his true feelings for Alastor. "I only care about what is mine, and the fact that Valentino is causing some unwelcome problems in Angel's life. I'd like you to tell him to stop. Before things have to get much more... ugly." Alastor says, letting the threat hang in between the two rivals.
Vox stops his incessant rambling about how Alastor lied about Vox liking him, and looks blankly at Alastor, then sighs.
"I wish I could get him to stop, he's been killing more of his sluts than we can replace, and we need him to get out of his rage about Angel leaving him for you, but it's fucking impossible. He won't move on." Vox groans.
"Hmm... perhaps, for once, we can make a deal that doesn't involve hurting each other? I get Valentino to stop killing your entertainers, and you make him promise to never bother me or him or our child ever again?" Alastor propositions, extending a clawed hand out for Vox to shake.