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Husk refilled Alastor’s glass of whiskey. The man had downed about 6 fingers of rye at this point. He was nowhere near his limit and Husk wasn’t going to deny his boss his favorite drink until he started getting wobbly.
Angel laughed, “The guy didn’t even get caught until tax time rolled around!”
Husk smirked, “To think all it took to take Capone down was tax evasion.”
Angel threw back the rest of his cocktail, “You’d think if he was smart enough to evade the police for so long, he’d at least have the smarts to do his taxes right.”
Alastor shook his head, “Such a bitter end to such a brilliant empire.”
Angel slid his glass over to Husk to refill. Husk grabbed Angel’s usual mixture and added it to his shaker. Angel, however, was approaching his limit. Husk figured he could stomach maybe two more drinks before he got sick. So, Husk would cut him off after this one.
“Thank gawd, the prohibition didn’t last that long,” Angel said, reaching for his new, brightly colored drink.
Alastor tsked, “Ah, but you’re forgetting the thrill of it!”
Husk shrugged, “I’d rather drink my fill without looking over my shoulder for the fuzz.”
Angel made a face, “Hey, ain’t it weird what names they came up with for the police? Like, why did people even call ‘em the ‘fuzz’ anyway?”
Husk took a bottle of beer from the mini fridge below the counter, “Never asked.”
Angel looked like he was about to go on a rant. He often did this once he’d reached the tipsy threshold. Husk was more surprised it took him this long to get there.
“And then it changes every year! What people call ‘em! We’re just back to ‘police’ now, I think!” Angel threw his arms up like this was actually a big deal.
Alastor hummed, “Times change.” He ran his finger along his whiskey glass’s rim. “Rarely for the better. I still prefer the 'mitney’.” He said smirking, not looking at Angel or Husk.
“The ‘mitney’?” Angel asked, “I’ve never heard of that one.”
Husk rolled his eyes, “Almost no one called cops the ‘mitney’ and he knows it.”
Angel grinned, “I bet you said it on your radio show to sound fancy, huh, Smiles?”
Alastor ignored the implication and sighed out a nostalgic “Ah,” He held his arms up a little in an innocent shrug, “How the times have certainly taken a turn for the worse.” He lowered his arms, “It’s all very amusing.” He said, because of course he did.
Angel thought for a second, which was never good. Husk prepared himself for whatever nonsense was about to spill out of the kid’s mouth, “Speaking of times changing, how come I’m the only one of us keeping up with them?”
Alastor smiled at him, showing his teeth casually as if to say, ‘Why would I want to?’
Angel looked at Husk. Husk huffed, “I don’t care enough to keep up with the trends.” He glanced at his phone which was sitting behind the counter within arm’s reach. “I barely know how to use that thing.”
Angel scoffed, “Old men.”
Husk grunted. He couldn’t care less about where the world was going. It was Hell. It was already down the shitter. No use making it any more complicated for himself. He’d just drink until he forgot whatever he’d learned anyway.
Alastor, on the other hand, seemed to take offense to this. Not enough for Husk to be concerned, but enough for him to narrow his eyes at Angel briefly before Alastor said, in a cheerful voice, “I just know what I like and don’t like.”
Angel raised an eyebrow at him, “Have you ever tried being up to date?”
Alastor proudly said, “No.” Liar.
“Then how would you know?” Angel crossed his arms, sneering like he’d caught Alastor red-handed. Careful, kid. Angel wasn’t sober enough to be picking fights, while Alastor was too sober to let one go.
Angel leaned on the counter, looking at Alastor like he’d found a hill to happily die on. “I bet you, a full day—no! A week of no sex jokes, at all, if you go out clubbing with me!”
Alastor laughed at the offer. Husk could see the victory in Alastor’s eyes already. Husk sighed.
“Deal!” Alastor said. It was an easy bet. Angel stops harassing Alastor with sex jokes if Alastor goes out, basically still completely sober, and chaperones a pre-gamed spider demon.
Easy. Not a problem. Except this was Angel and that was Alastor. Husk’s eyes darted between the two.
One was a partier who'd been living it up to make up for lost time during the prohibition. And the other had never stopped partying, going to underground speakeasies, and building the alcohol tolerance of a god.
Nope. They weren’t going anywhere without someone to reel them in. Besides, he wasn’t sure Alastor even knew what he’d just gotten himself into.
That was made very clear when they stopped outside a club called “Chance”. Husk watched Alastor’s eyes follow the neon lights as they beamed into the sky.
Alastor had been expecting a bar. Not a club . Husk actually wasn’t sure if Alastor had ever stepped foot inside a club before.
Husk had been here before. Only briefly, and only because they had some of the best black-russians in town. No other bar could seem to get the vodka and coffee liqueur ratios right.
Chance was a lot more expensive than your average club. And it had every right to be. In Husk opinion, while it wasn’t his go-to bar (mostly due to the nauseating flashing lights, the nerve-wracking music, and the young energetic bimbos who wouldn’t leave his wings alone), it had that upper-class charm.
It seemed Angel wanted to really impress Alastor.
They go inside, and the place is just as obnoxious inside as it was outside. The pulsating lights and thumping music were enough to give Husk a migraine. Actually, he thought he felt one coming on now.
Angel found them a table. It was a rounded purple booth with a square table. Someone needed to learn their shapes. Squares don’t fit inside circles. The table jutted out at an awkward angle.
Somehow Husk ended up in between Alastor and Angel. He wouldn’t have minded so much if the table wasn’t pressed up against his stomach. He looked at Alastor.
The redheaded menace was skinny enough that the table’s awkward positioning didn’t bother him.
Angel was having a little more trouble with it. His eyes scanned the room for another table, but he looked dismayed when he saw all the booths were suffering from the same lack of spatial awareness.
“I’m going to get us some drinks!” Angel said, giving up on looking for a more comfortable table.
Husk swore to himself that the tables weren’t this problematic the last time he’d been here. Then again, he had stayed at the bar and was guzzling black-russians like a starving man at a banquet.
Alastor was looking around, not seeming particularly pleased or displeased. Husk leaned a little into the table that was pressing against his stomach so he could be heard over the music, “Boss, you sure you’re alright with this?”
Alastor’s attention snapped from the dance floor, which was down a small flight of glass stairs and separated by a glass railing, to Husk’s ‘I’ve already had enough of this’ face.
“Oh, yes! I’m prepared for whatever tonight brings. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a real bar, anyway.” Alastor glared at him with a smug smile.
Husk frowned. But he supposed he walked into that one. You don’t ask Alastor if he’s okay unless you’re ready for the question to be deflected and turned around as an insult to you. Especially if you were Husk.
“Just isn’t your kind of ‘scene’ is all I’m saying,” Husk commented, trying to push the table a little outward so he had more room.
“Yes, well, I made a deal with Angel Dust,” he said cooly. “This is worth a week free from those filthy jokes he finds so humorous.” He rolled his eyes in a display of annoyance for the spider demon.
The table wasn’t moving. It must be locked in place or something. Husk huffed, “If you say so.”
“I do,” Alastor replied.
Angel came back with three drinks, all tucked up against his chest so they didn’t spill. He handed out the drinks and sat down.
Husk looked at the sazerac placed in front of him. He saw the old fashion sitting in front of Alastor. He looked up at Alastor’s face and sighed, reaching over and swapping drinks with him. Alastor grinned and happily took a sip of his new beverage.
Fucking menace.
Angel watched them for a second. He looked at Husk with a ‘how was I supposed to know what drink he’d prefer?’ kind of face. Husk took a big swig of the old fashion in response. He was never one for nursing a drink.
Angel leaned on the table, pushing his Caribou Lou in front of him. “So, here’s the plan, Al!”
Alastor set his drink down, looking at Angel with a catering smile. He had no intentions of following these plans. The kid was wasting his breath.
“I’m gonna go ask the DJ to put on some electro-swing music—you like that stuff, right?-- and we’re gonna head out onto the dance floor!” Angel stirred his drink as he talked.
Alastor smiled, as he always did, “That sounds delightful, Angel. It’s been ages since I last danced.”
Angel laughed, “I bet you’ve got some old people moves!”
Alastor narrowed his eyes, again not enough to cause concern, but enough for Husk to wish Angel would shut his mouth and think before he called Alastor an old man.
The lights were really getting on his nerves. He didn’t remember them being this bad when he was sitting at the bar. He looked longingly at all the booze behind the counter.
Then he froze.
“Uh... Trouble at 12,” Husk relayed to his drinking buddies.
They turned their heads around, looking toward the bar.
There sat Vox. And he was staring directly at Alastor.
A devilish grin spread across Vox’s face and he stood up. Alastor grinned back, his smile just as unhinged.
Husk motioned for Angel to get up, “We need to go!” Angel tried to squeeze out from behind the table, but the awkward shape of their sitting situation was preventing a quick escape, and Vox was approaching fast, martini in hand.
Husk and Angel were moving, but Alastor was stiff as stone. He had locked eyes with the enemy and was refusing to back down.
This wasn’t good.
Vox reached the table and smiled down at the Radio Demon. “Alastor!” He said excitedly, anger piercing through his teeth like daggers as he spoke. “I didn’t expect to see your ancient ass here!”
“Vox! What a pleasure it is to be seeing you,” Alastor hissed out, words dripping with venom.
“Mind if I sit?” Vox asked, sitting down already.
Husk gulped. He and Angel were now trapped between two overlords who hated nothing more than the other.
“Not at all!” Alastor motioned for Vox to take the seat he’d just taken, “I was just thinking about ordering something cheap anyway!”
There were literally sparks flying.
Vox let out a roaring laugh, and the glass in his hand shattered under the pressure he was squeezing it at.
Both overlords ignored the shards of glass and the drink mixing with blood that dripped from Vox’s hand and into a puddle onto the table.
The two were glaring into each other’s eyes. Vox lifted his bloody hand and snapped toward the bar, “Rye!” He said.
Husk watched the bartender, panickily rush from around the counter, grabbing glasses and a large bottle of rye whiskey. He came over and placed a glass in front of each of them. He was about to pour the drink for them when Vox grabbed the bottle from him and began to pour Alastor’s drink himself.
Okay... Husk watched the glass fill. That’s double the amount that should be in that glass... That’s triple... And that... is to the brim.
Alastor could handle his alcohol like a champ. But rye wasn’t a weak drink. And Alastor never wasted rye.
Vox knew this.
Vox put the bottle up to his screen, taking a gulp. Alastor carefully lifted the very overly full glass and sipped it down so the liquid was below the rim.
“So!” Vox said, ignoring Angel and Husk. “How its been cozying up to the princess? Needed someone to protect you when you got back,” Vox goaded, “Hell’s changed a lot since you were last in town. It’s okay to be scared of the new world!” He grin widened, eyes scanning Alastor obsessively.
Husk could see Alastor shift in his seat under Vox’s lecherous stare, “Oh, there’s no fear at all, dear Vox! Simply an opportunity for amusement.” His own grin widened, “Something you’d know all about, seeing as your life is a joke.”
To Husk’s dismay, Angel whispered out an “ooh... burn...” Husk shot him a look he desperately hoped conveyed ‘shut up!’
Vox slammed his fist down on the table. Blood and martini splattered against the wooden surface, “My life is more put together than yours, you old geezer!”
“HAH!” Alastor scoffed, “Put together?” Here it comes... “Your company is in near constant shambles to stay relevant in the minds of your followers, you have to rebuild your body just to stay in time with your newest formats, and you’re ‘dating’ a man who sleeps with everyone but you!” Ouch.... “If that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is!”
The alcohol was disappearing fast.
Vox pointed at himself, “My life is better than yours will ever be!” He changed the direction of his finger to point to Alastor, “You fucking pussy!”
Alastor hummed, “Hmm? And how is that? I enjoy what I do, I do what I enjoy. I get to amuse myself with the princess’s fruitless project while you sit in your room all day panicking about the next trend.” Alastor sounded oh so delighted.
Vox was seething already. This was only going to get uglier.
Normally Husk would back away. Go somewhere else. Do something to not be in such close proximity. But he was pinned to the booth by the table, an overlord on each side. He was stuck.
“You think you know so much! You don’t know what I do all day!” Vox protested.
“Oh, I think I can have a guess. You spend the mornings worrying about how the public will perceive you. You spend the afternoons sitting in meetings with people you don’t respect. You spend the evenings drowning yourself in booze while you scramble for the next big thing to keep Hell’s mind occupied, and then you spend the night cuddled up against a man you don’t even love.”
Alastor smirked, resting his chin on his hands, smugly, “Sound about right?”
“SHUT UP! SHUT. UP!” Vox screamed.
The music stopped.
“What’s wrong, Vox? Did I hit a little too close to home?” Alastor chided with a mischievous sneer.
“You don’t know anything!”
“It seems I can fathom it, though.”
“You can’t fathom shit!” Vox slammed his hands on the table, nearly breaking the bottle of whiskey in the process, “You can’t fathom anything ! You can’t-- you can’t... fucking! SHIT!”
Vox glared at Alastor, the words gone. His anger was all that was there.
Alastor’s glass was empty.
Vox looked like he wanted to throw the bottle across the room, but he paused. And poured Alastor another drink. Another very, very, very full drink.
Husk worried. Because he knew Alastor would drink it. All of it.
So did Vox
. Was Vox trying to give him alcohol poisoning?
Vox put the bottle down and grumbled something to himself.
Alastor egged him on, “What was that? I can’t hear you when you’re self-loathing.”
Vox growled, “I said you’re a fucking coward!”
“Says the one who was too cowardly to say that out loud without prompting.” Alastor snickered.
Husk was getting more and more worried by each word that came out of these men’s mouths.
“Why do you always think you’re better than me?!”
“Oh, darling,” Alastor teased, “I don’t think it. I know it.”
Vox stood up, wobbling. Husk narrowed his eyes at the man. If he wasn’t drunk already, he was getting there. “There you go again! Like always! ‘Oh look at me! I’m the Radio Demon! I’m better than everyone around me! Kiss my feet!’” His words were beginning to slur, “Well you know what?! You’re not better than me! I’m better than you!”
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Alastor tilted his head in amusement.
“No! I’m better than you and that’s a fact!” He leaned over the table to steady himself, “I know when the gloves come off, play time’s over! You! You never take anything seriously! Everything is one big fucking riot to you!”
Alastor sipped his now half-empty glass, “Life is God’s cruelest joke, is it not?”
Vox wasn’t finished with his last point, “Not one goddamn thing do you take seriously! Nothing!”
Alastor set his drink down, “There’s nothing for me to take seriously.” His words were starting to mix together. Husk knew he’d had too much to drink.
Vox paused, then he screamed, gripping his head and scratching at the poor screen. The lights in the club flickered.
“You bastard! You cowardly cunt! Fucking bitch! Not everything is a joke!” Vox yelled in Alastor’s general direction.
Alastor gulped down the rest of his whiskey, swaying a little as he did.
Vox kept going, “ I AM NOT A JOKE!”
Alastor’s smile twitched, “I think we have different standards in humor.”
The table went flying. Vox threw it across the room. It broke into pieces. Husk and Angel both backed up further into the booth. Husk hadn’t realized the table was acting as a sort of barrier between them and the overlords. Now it was gone and he felt much, much less safe.
Vox bolted forward and grabbed Alastor by his shirt collar. Alastor tried to swat his hand away, but he was too inebriated. His depth perception was completely off and he missed Vox’s arm entirely.
“You smug bitch,” Vox said in a low voice, which cracked as he swore. “Did you ever take me seriously?”
Alastor didn’t answer. He just stared up at Vox with a drunken gaze.
“DID YOU?!” Vox yelled into Alastor’s face.
“I did.”
Vox blinked, his anger fading.
Alastor swallowed hard, like his words were poison, “And I hated every second of it.”
The anger came back in the form of a choked-out yell, “Why?! Why was I never good enough?! Why did you pretend to be my friend if you hated me so damn much?!” There were pinpricks of something glistening in the corners of Vox’s eyes.
“I never pretended,” Alastor said quietly, looking away from Vox.
“Then why?! Why did you throw us away?!” Vox was shaking.
Alastor was silent.
And then...
“....You said you loved me.”
The room suddenly felt cold.
Alastor elaborated, “You said you loved me, and I didn’t know what to do.”
Vox’s voice barely came out, “You could have just said ‘no’.”
“I did...”
Vox’s voice got louder, “No! You said I was wrong!” He started to yell, “You said you could never love someone like me! You fucking told me you hated me!”
“...I didn’t know what to do,” Alastor muttered again.
“You could have told me why! But you ran off! You left and you never came back! What did you expect me to do?” Vox’s voice was breaking.
“I don’t know.”
“It fucking hurt, Al!” Something fell down Vox’s cheek.
Alastor flinched at the use of his nickname.
Vox was trembling, “I was ready to give you the world.”
“I didn’t want that from you,” Alastor pressed his claws into his legs.
“WHY?!”
“You’re a man,” Alastor said. It sounded scripted. Almost... unsure.
“So?!” Vox screamed.
“It... It was wrong,” Alastor’s voice cracked. He didn’t believe that.
“Who fucking cares?! This is Hell! Give me a real reason!” Vox let go of Alastor’s collar.
“I don’t know!” Alastor yelled back, still not looking at Vox. He swayed, reaching up and grabbing his head in a drunken attempt to straighten himself out. “They said it was wrong! They said it was sick!”
Alastor was shaking. One hand found its way into his hair and began to tug. The other hovered beside his face as he glared at the ground. He couldn’t look at Vox.
“Who is ‘They’?!” Vox threw his arms out.
“ Them ! All of them!” Alastor’s voice broke.
“What the fuck are you talking about?! Society?!” Vox’s screen was starting to glitch, “Fuck them! You've never given one shit about what society has to think! So, don’t go blaming them now!”
Vox growled, “Look at me!” When Alastor didn’t budge, Vox squatted and down and tried to catch Alastor’s eyes. He must have found them because his own eyes widened.
“Al?” Vox said in a much softer, very surprised tone.
Husk tried to move his head to see Alastor’s face. Alastor’s shoulders were shivering... Was he--....? No way....
Vox reached up to touch the wetness on Alastor’s face. Alastor growled in response and swatted his hand away, not missing this time despite his swaying.
“Don’t come any closer,” Alastor warned. His voice was unsteady.
“I--.... I won’t.” Vox said. His eyes were wide as saucers. He seemed to be realizing something. “Alastor... did...” He trailed off.
Alastor was breathing deeply to try to calm himself, face hidden by his hair as he continued to stare at the ground.
“Did.... someone hurt you?” Vox asked, his voice fading into a whisper at the end. His face said everything you needed to know. There was fear. Fear for a man whom he’d once loved.
Alastor made a short gasping sound in response to Vox’s question. But he said nothing.
“Oh, shit...” Vox muttered. He stared at Alastor for a second longer before letting himself sit on the ground. He looked up at the ceiling.
“That’s why you reacted that way...” Vox said in a breathy voice. He looked like his life had just flipped upside down.
Alastor growled. An attempt to sound intimidating. It didn’t work. And Vox ignored it. He was getting angry again, “Do you know how much I fucked myself up over that?!”
Alastor didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Vox didn’t expect him to.
“I fucking destroyed myself! You crushed my confidence!” His eye twitched as he stared up at the ceiling. “I thought I must have been repulsive for you to react that way to me.”
Vox murmured, “But you weren’t even reacting to me.” He let out a sad laugh and his shoulders slumped, “This whole time. I thought it was me. I thought you were rejecting me .”
Alastor wobbled as he dragged his sleeve across his face then finally looked up. He glared at Vox, but his drunken eyes weren’t focusing on the man.
“Hey...” Vox smiled, looking at Alastor like they hadn’t had a falling out. “Do you think, if none of that happened to you.... we would still be friends?”
Alastor was quiet, then he shook his head, “No.”
Vox frowned.
Alastor slumped over a bit, “I don’t think I can ever see you the same way again.”
Vox was quiet. But then he whispered, “All I said was ‘I love you’....” He leaned forward a bit, his speech slurring, “You had a panic attack and left. You never even gave me the chance to take it back.”
“You can’t take something like that back.”
“But you could have at least let me try.”
Alastor shook his head again, “I didn’t want you to.”
Vox looked heartbroken all over again, “Why? I’m not ‘them’. All I ever wanted was to give you everything.”
“I didn’t want it,” Alastor tried to steady his swaying.
“Why?” Vox said in a shaky voice. “Why?!” He said in a much louder one, “Why don’t you want me?! What is so wrong with me?!” His voice trembled.
“Nothing!” Alastor shouted.
“What?” Vox blinked, confused.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Alastor reiterated. “It’s me...”
Vox’s eyes darted over Alastor’s face, searching for a better answer, “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either,” Alastor said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t like men,” Alastor confessed.
“Oh,” Vox said, disheartened.
“And I don’t like women,” Alastor added.
“Oh?” Vox tilted his head.
“I don’t... like anyone, ” Alastor said, his voice getting quieter toward the end.
Vox’s eyes widened. He paused. He stared at Alastor with a look of shock.
And then he laughed.
He laughed hard.
“You... You don’t like anyone !” He kept laughing. “He doesn’t like anyone !” He pointed at Alastor and looked at Husk and Angel.
He wheezed, “Oh! Oh, this is rich!” He grabbed his stomach as he laughed harder and harder, tears forming in his eyes, “Can you believe that?!”
BAM
Vox slammed his fist into the ground, “DAMMIT! Fucking dammit!” His laughter didn’t cease. He looked up at Alastor, “You played me like a fucking fiddle, you ace motherfucker!”
Alastor’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“ACE! You’re fucking ace!” Vox was laughing so hard, he had tears rolling down his cheeks, “And there I was thinking I had a shot with you!” Maybe it wasn’t from laughing...
“What is ‘ace’?” Alastor asked.
There was an awkward pause. Vox ceased laughing in an instant. He looked up at Alastor with wide eyes.
“You don’t even know what you are?” Vox questioned, eyes scanning Alastor for any sign that he was joking. He wasn’t.
“Oh my god,” Vox said. “Oh my god, you thought something was wrong with you ? This entire time?”
Alastor’s grin pulled into something more feral. He felt like he was being made fun of. But he was too drunk to react.
Vox let out a groan and rubbed his face, “Dammit! Just... dammit!”
The overlords sat there. Alastor taking in Vox’s frustration like he was witnessing a child throw a tantrum. Vox, sitting there, throwing a tantrum.
Vox took a few deep breaths and looked at Alastor again. He opened his mouth to say something more, but stopped and closed it again.
There was nothing more to say.
Vox slowly stood up and started walking out of the club, a ringing sound coming from his screen. He answered as he walked away, “Hello. Yes, Velvette. I know. Yes, I had a meltdown in public.”
He left the building.
Alastor swallowed dryly.
Angel cautiously leaned over in his seat, “Al? You okay?”
Alastor’s eyes settled on nothing, swaying alongside his body, “Yes. I’m... I’m fine. But I’d like to go home now.” He tried standing, but wobbled too much and had to sit back down.
Husk sighed, “You’re not going anywhere until you down a glass of water and eat something.” He looked at Angel, who immediately got up and found the bartender, who was cowering behind the bar counter.
Such a damn mess...
It was time for Husk to pick up the pieces again.