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That day had been an exhausting, stressful one. Since the princess’s redemption project apparently turned out not to be complete hogwash, Alastor was left with the brunt of the paperwork. And with greeting every. Single. Guest. He required a great amount of rest before he, mostly, unintentionally clawed out the next prospective guest's throat.
Good thing he had a lone sanctuary within his personal bayou. At a time it did resemble a more typical appearance to the other hotel rooms, but the establishment's impromptu reconstruction had Alastor throw balls to the wall and think why not make it even more to his liking. It was to make him feel more at home after all. Chirping cicadas in the distance and flowing water always did the trick to calm his nerves.
Mildew air filled Alastor’s lungs as green energy whisked the striped overcoat off his shoulders to the nearby coatrack. Cloven heels passed from thumping wood to soft encompassing marsh as they found their way to the vanity mirror. A tired reflection met the deer. His strained smile flared with an aggravated growl that pinched his brows together. Lazy red digits undid the bow around his collar, though left the ends to dangle.
Dark hands found a bottle of whisky at the mirror’s edge, and poured the spirit into a fine glass. It was not his usual choice to neglect ice, but this drink was for medicinal purposes – not pleasure. Cool glass shy of his lips, it was pulled away upon the shrill ringing from across the room. A black rotary phone yelled to be answered.
There was no reason he should’ve been getting a call at the hour – let alone at all. He’d practically forgotten the damned thing existed. Only a few individuals knew of it, and he preferred to keep it that way. So help him if it was that insufferable princess in need of something as asinine as unclogging a toilet.
Rich liquid burned down his throat with a hissed swallow – its glass slammed onto the hard surface. Knowing the annoyance wouldn’t stop without interference, Alastor harshly picked up the receiver and placed it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Is ya refrigerator runnin'?”
He blinked. Angel Dust was not in his mind as a possibility, despite it being sensible. Nonetheless, the surprise was a welcome one. Already more at ease, Alastor took a seat on the neighboring wooden chair, and leaned back with one leg crossed over a knee. “Yes, dear. My refrigerator is running.”
“Okay, cool.”
Hushed breathing resonated between the lines. Alastor did appreciate a good prank call every now and then, however it was odd to receive one that barely had a reaction from its origin. The deer knew his partner; there had to be more on his mind than only a childish practical joke. “Is that all you were curious about?”
Angel scoffed. “Can’ a man call his boyfriend ta see if his household appliances are in shape?”
“Sure he can,” an index finger twirled the spiraled cord along itself. “Although it seems that a certain man is wanting something from said boyfriend.”
“No. I don’ want anythin’.”
That was clearly a lie. Those words barely reached Alastor’s ear from their subdued volume. He was putting on a front that grew crystal clear with every passing second. It was rather invigorating.
“But I do have one question.”
The spider's meek tone piqued Alastor’s interest. “What is it, Angel?”
“What are ya wearin’?”
An unoccupied ear flicked with a filtered chuckle. “My clothes, dear.”
“Well yeah, but what?”
Already the topic had tarnished his expectations. Never before had Alastor encountered this pattern of questioning in all his years, and frankly he had no idea where it was going. Even with his partner in mind, he had not considered knowing the exact garments he wore on any second of the day just because. Not that the notion bothered him – it merely seemed pointless was all.
Still, Alastor found himself running over his current attire to appease the spider. “My heeled shoes, black slacks, and red button-up shirt.”
“So no coat?”
“No coat.”
A mild gasp reached Alastor’s ear. The other carried on after a swallow. “What about your sleeves? Are they rolled up?”
Faux breeze brushed against his skin, dark hands to tan elbows. He always had a tendency of letting his skin breathe once in his quarters. His clothing style didn't allow much breathing room, nor skin to show – he liked it that way. “Yes,” Alastor answered.
“H-How about your bowtie? Is it…?”
“Undone. I've yet to completely take it off.”
Then there it was again. Shaken breath hummed to silence, and Alastor grew concerned. Were these questions a ploy for something substantial? Was Angel in danger? Tension arose in frail knuckles. “Dear, are you alright? Why are you asking me all of this?”
“Yeah, I'm good. Jus’... uh…” Angel's thought trailed off to nothingness.
How interesting. So there was something amiss, except it only involved the happenings of the spider. A sly smile stretched the deer's lips. “You know, since we're on that note, I have a question for you.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you wearing?”
A puffed bit of air left Angel’s nose. “Ya know that cute pink sweater ya got me for Christmas last year? That.”
“And…?”
“That's it.”
“That's it?”
“Uh huh.”
The overlord's eyes popped. That naughty minx was in the nude while talking to him on the phone. Not entirely of course, but goodness. Warmth rose to Alastor’s face at the visual. Angel was up to something for sure.
“Darling,” Alastor growled, “what are you doing?”
“I-I'm–”
“Tell me now.”
“I-I-I'm touchin’ my pussy!” Angel finally cried. No longer held back, he panted openly, moans and all. His partner permitted a small reprieve before the questions continued.
“In what way?”
“Rubbin’ my fingers over it.”
“But no fingering?”
“N-No.”
“Shame.”
A lip biting whimper came from the spider, followed by frantic moisture just within the deer's ear. Much better. “How wet are you?” Alastor’s other hand held onto the armrest in taut resistance. He'd already figured the answer, he only wanted to hear it for himself.
“Soakin’.”
Alastor’s chest deflated with a deep breath. “Are you hard as well?”
“Like a fuckin’ rock!”
That was what did him in. A lowered glance presented the pulsing bulge at his groin, begging for attention. Shuttered air passed through the overlord's teeth before a buzzed hum. “Mmm… you have no idea what you do to me, mon cher.” Temptation gnawed at his soul, the firm hand running along his thigh helped ebb it away for the moment.
“Are ya hard for me, Daddy?”
“Oh I'm aching for you, my dear,” Alastor groaned. “The strain on my trousers is growing unbearable.”
“Fuck…”
Hisses and whines struck deep. Exuberant pleasure billowing from the spider pushed him over the edge. Hurried fingers swarmed to the caging fly to free the throbbing appendage. A shiver ran through Alastor from the immediate pumping he inflicted upon himself. Metallic taste slid along his tongue as harsh teeth punctured a bottom lip – savoring the red ichor.
Radio static fizzled in the faux bayou with every sequential stroke. Seconds passed to bring beaded wetness to its peak. Wetness audible from slick friction.
Alastor could only imagine how his beau looked. Those dazzling eyes screwed shut, with a drool laden lip emitting the very screams he heard through the phone. And to picture what he was thinking. For once, he craved to know what depravity seeped in that dastardly mind of his. “What are you thinking about, Anthony? Don't spare any last details.”
“Ah! Y-Your fat fuckin' cock rammin’ inta me! Fillin’ me up so good!” Angel's hummed keen interrupted him; heavy panting preceded the pause. “You're keepin’ me pinned underneath ya in my chair, an’ I'm spread wide open for ya so ya hit all the right spots, an’ I can’ help b-but–”
A choked wail cut him off.
For a minute, the most gorgeous shrieks filled the deer’s ears with their abundant heat. Guttural grunts coincided with squelches spurting from the spider’s touch. The palm encompassing Alastor made a dubious retreat, despite the mental protest. Vigorous breathing slowed to a soft purr that drove hunger into the overlord.
“Angel? Did you just…?”
The sinner chuckled. “Don' worry, baby; I'm still here. Plus, I think I got one more in me.”
Alastor snarled as he reclined, returning to his shaft. “Good.”
He’d never felt this way before. Angel and he were in no way innocent in terms of their sexual experiences together, but they hadn’t done anything like this. The hotel wasn’t that big. If Alastor wanted to, he could meld into the shadows and ravage the other in person. Mellowing in his succulent scent and touch.
However, being apart while savoring the delectable moans of his lover seemed very enticing.
“God, I wish I could taste you right now,” Alastor rasped, quickening his pace. “And you sounded so beautiful just then. Seeing you come undone is one thing, but the breathtaking symphony of your voice is beyond compare.”
Angel gasped. “Really, Daddy?”
“Qui, mon amor. Knowing you're completely enthralled in pleasure drives the same within me.”
The drawn-out whine rang beautifully from the spider. He panted, “dammit, Smiles. Why is even your dirty talk so romantic?”
“Because I know what my darling Angel likes.”
“Don’ ya now?” Angel taunted with a chuckle. “Tell me some other things ya know I like then.”
Oh how Alastor loved playing games. Their back and forth of jostling each other’s competitiveness was one of their oldest habits, and he for sure was eager to participate. He wanted to make him crumble with just his words. “You love to be marked by me biting you – anywhere.” A tapered tongue slithered along black gums with memories of Angel’s sweet nectar guzzling down his gullet. Hissed after a firm squeeze, Alastor croaked the remainder of his list. “Being choked by my hand or cock, depending on the mood. Spanked like the naughty little brat you are. And my knot–”
“Oh your knot, baby,” Angel cried. “I miss it! Can ya give it ta me?”
So adorable. The poor thing was begging for something he couldn’t give. He cackled at the easy success. After a quick readjustment of the receiver, Alastor shook his head. “Now you know that can't happen until a few more months. But don't fret, mon cher. When the time comes, you'll get it as much as you desire.”
“Ya promise, Daddy?”
“Daddy promises.”
Angel reacted immediately. His whimper jumped from the disturbance of frequent movements. “Mmm, Alastor! Fuck I'm gonna cum!” Fierce schlicking grew louder.
“Cum for me, Angel,” Alastor panted. “I want to hear you scream.”
They both howled. Neither paid any mind to their volume for the other guests – only each other were of importance. Hoarse curses spilt from the spider, meanwhile gasped moans escaped the deer's throat. Minutes passed as their breathing evened from the intensity.
“Did… did ya cum, too?”
Jaded reds transversed below to the sticky mess at his palm and shirt. He knew his climax was intense, but that was a lot. Wiping the offending hand on a pant leg, Alastor cringed at the sensation. There was no sense of being so bothered; he could just whisk it away once the call ended. “I did. That was so…”
“Hot as fuck,” Angel giggled.
“Yes, that. I surprised myself. I wouldn’t mind doing that again some other time.”
“Same here.”
Rightened himself up, the overlord sighed in relief. He really needed that. It wasn't what he self-prescribed, but after the day he had Alastor was grateful to have the ultimate medicinal cure of Angel Dust. Maybe he was aware? Alastor thought he was being discreet with his behavior, but then again he wasn't one to not wear his emotions on his sleeves – at least in the spider's perspective. If that was the case, that called for his considerate beau to be rewarded.
Head rested on scarlet knuckles, Alastor smirked, “however, the next time we delve into sexual intimacy it will be in person. I'd love to explore that little fantasy of yours.”
“Really?” Angel squeaked.
“Yes, my darling. I must properly thank you for allowing me to relax after today, should I not?”
There was a brief pause while the spider took in the suggestion. A meek stutter of, “s-sounds like a plan, Smiles,” was thrown Alastor’s way.
Proud laughter spread the deer's lips. “I'm very much looking forward to it. Goodbye, mon amor.”
“Goodbye, amore mio.”
The receiver nearly met its end until an annoyed groan tolled. It being brought back to a scarlet ear let him in the know. “Oh shit! I got squirt on my fuzzy chair an’ the flo– Hey no! Nuggs, baby, don’ drink tha–!”