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Ragged breaths shook Angel's already-sore body. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so terribly. Arms. Legs. Chest. Throat. Pussy. Every hole that existed and every new hole that Valentino created. A gaping slash burned his thigh, dribbling red down the side of his leg and into the couch.
The couch. Fuck. They weren't even in a bed. Not that Angel had anything against that, but when Valentino decided he wanted to tear up Angel's thighs with a knife, he'd rather be in a bed. Now his nice fainting couch was being stained again.
He sighed to himself, staring down at the velvet that cradled him. Oh, fainting couch, he thought. How good you've done me.
In all times of need, he could collapse right there. Every attempted overdose, every injury at work, every breakup and argument with Val...
His arrival back to the tower.
Angel glanced back down at the wound again. A large slash leading into far more, a crude array of injuries that vaguely resembled the name 'Val'. Should've been Husk's name down there. Husk wouldn't have tried knifeplay, but if he did, he would've been far kinder. He would've cradled Angel and shushed him while he cried...
"Oh, baby, don't look so sad. You'll give yourself wrinkles."
The Overlord in question stood above him, wiping the boxcutter clean. As hard as Angel tried to wish away the marks, they still read 'Val'.
"Really fuckin' hurts..." Angel hissed.
"What's that?"
It came out so flippant. Valentino found himself preoccupied by his task, having dropped the weapon altogether in favor of a powder puff. Where Angel's makeup had been smudged, Val's four hands worked overtime to cover the damage.
Pink eyeshadow atop a black eye, a cotton pad wiping away the blood, concealer to hide away the scratches.
Angel sighed. "Nothin', Val."
Valentino hummed. While his top hands smoothed out Angel's hair, a gentle touch that Angel could probably close his eyes and imagine as sweet if he tried, the bottom hands unscrewed a red lip stain.
Scarlet red. The color of sex. The color of blood. Val's signature shade, probably why he insisted on applying it. But it had also taken on so many new meanings in such a short year.
Charlie's cinnamon-scented hugs. Alastor's protection. The hotel walls. Husk...
Husk wouldn't be worried about Angel's makeup, he never ever was. Even when Angel tried to explain what concealer was, Husk didn't care. Husk didn't care if Angel's complexion was muddied or his eyeliner was smudged, he cared if Angel was safe.
And here Val was, ignoring the blood to apply more red.
Angel didn't want more red. He wanted a break from red. Anything but red. He was stuck in a red nightmare for months, red spirals, red wings, red feathers, he was drowning in red!
A droplet trickled down onto Valentino's finger. He blinked, looking up to his beloved Angel. With it, the tear took all the effort Val had put into covering up the smudges, and they revealed themselves in a thin streak of grey mess.
The spider's pretty face scrunched in a dull, aching sadness. Fuck. He was so pretty when he got like this. What a manipulative bitch, thinking that would get him out of work.
"Fuck, Angie, you're ruining the mascara." Val sighed. "You want to go out like that? Let the cameras see you like this?"
"No." Angel whimpered. "'M sorry..."
The moth reached out, pinching soft cheeks with gold claws. "You're cute. Not cute enough that this isn't annoying, but almost."
Red eyes stared into pink, gauging for something. Angel didn't have the energy to look happy, and that only showed when Valentino tried to pull him to his feet and Angel slumped over.
Angel whined, his legs overcome by the hot fire of deeply improper aftercare and mishandling. And, of course, the crazy blood-soaked carvings on his left thigh. He sank to his knees, and that wasn't a better feeling, because his knees were bruised. By the end of it, he was laying with his back on the carpet and whimpering like a kicked puppy in the rain.
Fortunately, 'kicked puppy in the rain' was the look that got him the most sympathy from Valentino. God, he was just so cute when he was all pathetic like that. Poor baby couldn't take care of himself.
"Angie..." He murmured.
Magenta eyes peeked between gloved fingers, sorrowful and resigned. They pierced through Valentino's heart and right into the opposite wall, leaving a horrid, bloody hole right between. Valentino could leave as many marks on Angel as he wanted, but Angel knew how to leave the ones that really mattered.
"I get it. You're all weak because Daddy fucked your whore brains out," sighed Valentino. "That's my fault. I shouldn't have broken you this hard."
Angel's bottom lip, coated in a fresh layer of red, trembled like a child who had just scraped his knee on the playground. Fuck, Val's heart wouldn't be able to take it if he cried. He was too weak and he knew Angel would end up with the day off if he cried, and Val couldn't afford to delay this shoot any longer.
Valentino groaned, emptying a plastic baggie from his coat onto an eyeshadow palette and grinding the resulting powder into a fine line. Now Angel's making him use what was supposed to be his little filming treat. Great. Now the shoot was going to be miserably droll.
"Take some," he said, to which Angel instantly complied.
Far too much eyeshadow residue ended up in Angel's nostrils, but it really didn't matter. He needed it, he needed anything he could get. Though it didn't kill his pain, it gave him enough energy to ignore it.
The dull sorrow in Angel's eyes became something brighter. More attentive. His posture fixed itself, and he stared directly at Valentino instead of through him.
Valentino's gaze brightened. "¡Muy bien! Now, we're gonna go out there, we're gonna give them a good performance, and we're gonna dazzle their asses off!"
He bent down, taking Angel's hands up in his. Fuck, Angel's hands were so tiny. So cute. Val almost wanted to play with him, puppet them like he always enjoyed doing. But Angel needed reassurance right now. Poor, fragile thing. He had been through a lot recently.
"And most...?" Val prompted him.
"We're gonna thrive?" Angel whispered.
"Good boy."
Golden claws tusseled into Angel's hair affectionately, only to brush each strand back into place. Warmth bloomed across Angel's face as he watched Valentino shudder in delight, already walking towards the door.
"I'm so lucky to have you," the moth said.
Well, at least Angel had that to rely on. Being Valentino's favorite had its perks, and in times like this, Angel forgot why he ever resented the position.
Angel scampered behind, like the good puppy he was.