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As they toasted, Emily leaned on Alastor, who smiled with approval. It wasn't a special day, there was no reason to celebrate, but Husk said that every night could be a party with the right drink.
Since it was her first time "drinking," she was served mild drinks, among them some glasses of cider and wines that she tried for the first time, wrinkling her face and feeling the burning in her throat.
—For God's sake! It burns! —she said, pushing the glass away and earning a laugh from the grumpy cat.
—Hahaha, it's always funny to see a rookie with their first drink —he said, pouring himself a strong glass of whiskey on the rocks.
Alastor watched from a safe distance. He wouldn't admit that he didn't want her to be pushed to the limit, but he also didn't want to be hovering over her like a "guardian." Many already teased him that Emily never left his side —though the truth was that he was the one who didn't want to be apart from her.
He watched as Husk served her first pint of beer. Emily blew on the foam, took a sip, and spat it out, earning more laughter from Husk. Alastor sighed. She was adorable, in a sense... traditional, which was almost unseen in Hell.
—What are we looking at, Mister Creepy? —Angel whispered near his ear, making Alastor let out a startled scream. The scream scared Husk, who spread his wings in surprise, and he, in turn, knocked Emily's beer over onto her.
—My dress! —she shouted, standing up drenched in beer.
—Husk! —Alastor yelled at him.
—Don't fucking blame me! —Husk replied, raising his middle finger.
Angel took that moment to escape, leaving Husk and Alastor arguing. This caught the attention of Charlie and Vaggie, who came running accompanied by Niffty.
—What the hell is wrong with you two? —Vaggie asked annoyed, approaching Emily, who was trying in vain to dry herself with a napkin, but it was more than obvious that she needed to change her dress.
—Don't blame me —Husk grumbled irritably—. Mister Smiles scared me. I was just doing my job —he replied with visible annoyance, looking at the girl.
—Dear, I think you should go change —Alastor said, approaching.
Charlie and Vaggie agreed, until Niffty spoke up:
—But I just put in a load right now, and the only one left is Mister Alastor's.
—She can change in his room, leave the dress in the laundry basket, and it can be washed so it doesn't smell like stale alcohol —Vaggie suggested—. Of course, as long as you don't mind, Alastor —she asked, now turning to him with a smile.
Vaggie suspected certain things, but she didn't like to point them out like others did.
Alastor blushed, his ears drooping.
—No... I don't mind —he replied through gritted teeth.
—Can you take her, Niffty? —Charlie asked.
Niffty nodded enthusiastically.
—Come with me, sprout. You smell like Husk on Friday happy hour —she said the last part as she walked away with her.
*.-.-.*
—Okay, Emily, this is the boss's room. I usually come in the mornings, noon, and at night to organize, clean, and take away the dirty dishes and any... I mean, hunting that Mister Alastor has done.
Yes, Niffty had very explicit orders from Alastor and Charlie not to tell her all at once about all the sins the hotel residents had committed.
Although Emily already knew half of them, although she didn't know how many Al... Mister Alastor had committed.
She undressed and, before she could throw the dress into the basket where Niffty had told her to, she observed Mister Alastor's clothes.
Emily had asked about... "demonic courtship," but to say that she couldn't answer, or rather, that she pretended not to hear her question. She observed it. It was... it was... Alastor's clothes. She shouldn't, but... she looked around, making sure no one saw her. She took a garment... a bright red dress shirt and smelled it. She didn't know why, guided by pure instinct. That had been her first instinct, but she smelled it. She could smell his cologne, that aroma that used to emanate from him when he approached to dance.
Emily squeezed her legs together, buried her face deeper into the shirt, sniffing strongly. Soon she searched for more in the basket, finding black dress pants, took them, and with some shame, smelled them. That aroma and aftertaste of car exhaust and cigarette smoke, a smell that permeated the streets of Pentagram City.
When she put down the pants, she lowered her gaze and then she saw it. Her cheeks flushed. There it was. That was... yes, it was. She picked it up with her fingertips and lifted it. It was... they were Alastor's underwear. She knew that was... strange, weird, forbidden, even by Hell's standards. But the underwear, wrinkled, damp in certain areas, worn from the day, was disturbingly exciting. She brought her face closer, just a little, and could smell the aggressive odor of ammonia... the smell of urine.
Maybe a small accident before making it to the bathroom on time, or even maybe he didn't wipe properly... and she felt a pang of guilt for feeling and thinking that, but it excited her. Then she brought it to her face, pressing it tightly against her face and inhaled deeply, finding the smell of something more... a softer aroma, something that mixed with the sweat of his crotch.
She remembered something she saw in one of Angel's movies. She slid her hand down to her crotch, slipped her hand inside her underwear and began to play with her sex. She remembered the movie, sliding her fingers up and down, rubbing her sex, while inhaling and tasting, because yes, she had opened her mouth to suck on the fabric.
She didn't know why, as she caressed herself, as she touched herself, as she grabbed her clitoris, just like the wolf girl in that movie did, she sucked, savoring the bitter and acidic taste of the dirty underwear. She was like that for several minutes and then a cramp came. She bent backward, her wings spread out, and she muffled a moan in the clothes, feeling herself "pee." She fell sitting on the floor, the clothes separating from her mouth, leaving her aside.
—God... this was... it was...
She almost fell asleep, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.
—Emily, can I come in? I brought towels and another dress —Charlie asked from the other side of the door.
Quickly Emily threw all the clothes into the basket, got into the shower and turned on the water, muffling a scream when the ice-cold water hit her.
—Yes... thanks... —she shouted as best she could.
Charlie walked in with her back turned and left the clothes on the toilet, then ran out.
Emily scrubbed herself, dried off, and changed, going out to keep trying more drinks from Husk, although the taste of Alastor's underwear was still in her mouth... she should ask Angel what that meant. She thought as she floated down the hallway.