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The Contract	By : Turkaholic Category: -Misc Cartoons > Slash - Male/Male Views: 262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss. I do not make any money from this story

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
I think this is the fastest chapter I've ever written. I spent the whole time giggling to myself.

Without spoiling too much I can say that the dry spell is close to ending. This was never a story just about smut, but there should be enough to satisfy you thirsty sinners in a few chapers time xD

Have something a little more lighthearted after the intensity of the last two chapters.

I really am going to have to take a few days break now. I've been putting off work for this fic, and I kind of need to work in order to eat.

Thanks again for all the support so far <3 Next chapter should be up at the weekend, I think. In the meantime please drop me a comment. I get so excited when I see them :3

Chapter 9

“Come out, come out wherever you are…”
Alastor took a deep breath and smiled. “Good morning, Niffty, my deliciously deranged little dear!”
Niffty looked up from the hole she’d poked in the skirting board, Her single eye wide and slightly bloodshot. She was still in her nightdress, a needle-like knife clutched in her hand. Alastor leaned down to her level. “...And what delightful insanity are you employed in this fair morning?”
Niffty looked vacantly into his face, then down at the knife, and blinked, grinning. “Oh… y’know… huntin’ bugs.”
Alastor chuckled and patted her on the head fondly. “Of course you are, how silly of me to ask.”
“There’s one in here, Alastor. I can hear it.” She said, her voice shaking with excitement. She pressed an ear to the splintered hole, listening. Her eye narrowed. “It’s laughing at me.”
“Well if it finds you as charming as I do, I’m sure it won’t resist your wiles for long.”
Niffty continued listening at the hole for a moment longer, Alastor watching her with a look of deepest amusement on his face. With a sudden burst of impossible speed, the knife darted into the skirting board. There was a soft crunch, and Niffty pulled back her hand, a still twitching cockroach impaled on the end of it. She blinked at it, then giggled manically. “Got it!”
“Good Job!” said Alastor, beaming like a proud parent. Niffty grinned and darted up onto his shoulder, still laughing. She peeled the roach away from the knife and waved it in front of his mouth gently.
“Hungry?” She asked sweetly. Alastor pressed his lips together and stood up, Niffty riding on his shoulder and clinging to his ear for balance.
“...Tempting... but I’m afraid I’m in the mood for something a little more substantial this morning.”
Niffty looked at the roach as it gave one last kick of its legs and fell still. She cupped it in her hand and glanced back down at the skirting board. “Oh, I could get more.”
“Perhaps another day, dear.” replied the Radio Demon, starting down the stairs. “Why don’t we go see what’s available in the kitchen?”
“Pancakes!” exclaimed Niffty almost as soon as he’d spoken. Her hand squeezed his ear excitedly and he winced a little, but continued to smile indulgently as he stepped down into the foyer.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Oh my gosh ALASTOR!”
The indulgent smile slipped into a wide-eyed grimace as a flurry of yellow and red came hurtling towards him from the parlour. He grunted as Charlie’s forehead impacted his chest and she pulled him into a tight, inescapable hug.
“Oh we were soooo worried about you!” Her voice was muffled in his shirt. Alastor tried to wriggle free, but Charlie was holding him bone-crushingly tight. He conceded very reluctantly to the situation and glared at the wall over her head until she’d finished. Niffty continued to giggle breathily in his ear.
“Uh, just for the record? I wasn’t.” Called Vaggie from across the room, raising a hand. She was sitting on one of the parlour sofas, a characteristically unimpressed frown on her face. Charlie either didn’t hear, or pretended not to. She looked up into Alastor’s now thoroughly annoyed face, wide eyed and innocent.
“Did they hurt you? Are you ok? Do you need to talk out your feelings?”
Alastor squeezed an arm out from Charlie’s death grip around his waist, patted her once on the head, then pushed her backwards.
“I’m perfectly fine, dear.” he said, still glaring at the wall. “I just had some business to take care of.”
“What fucking business?” interjected Vaggie gruffly, “Aren’t you meant to be helping us?”
Alastor tilted his head towards her, a condescending glint in his eye.
“Unlike certain people in this hotel, I do have other things that demand my attention. Surely the princesses stalwart protector can last twelve hours without my assistance?”
Vaggie snorted derisively, crossed her arms and looked into the fireplace. Charlie looked between the two of them and the innocent glee died. She tucked her hair behind her ear and laughed nervously.
“Well… I’m glad you’re ok. That bunch looked pretty – y’know – hardcore.” She walked away from him and sat down next to Vaggie again, pulling her coffee cup back towards her. Niffty jumped down from Alastor’s shoulder and followed her, pulling herself onto one of the empty sofas. “Sooo… Alastor. I was... hoping that maybe-” she stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide as Niffty stood up and raised her small fists in the air.
“Pancakes!”
Vaggie blinked. “What the fuck is wrong with her this morning?”
“Just a thought, but I believe she wants someone to make her pancakes.” replied the Radio Demon idly, brushing the now forgotten dead roach off his shoulder and onto the carpet. Niffty began chanting.
“Pancakes… pancakes… PANCAKES.”
“Oh in the name of – isn’t she yours?” Vaggie had to raise her voice over the over-excited Niffty. “Shouldn’t you be making her pancakes?”
“Hmmm... not really my forte, I’m afraid.” He replied boredly and began drifting towards the kitchen door.
There was the slam of a door from somewhere upstairs.
“HEY! What’s with all the noise, I’m nursin’ a hangover up here!”
“PANCAKES!”
There was a pause.
“Ok… who’s been givin’ Niffty crack?”
“She just wants pancakes, Angel!” Charlie shouted soothingly up the stairs.
“I CAN FUCKIN’ HEAR THAT.”
Chuckling to himself, Alastor swung open the door behind the empty bar and slipped through, the sound of Niffty’s chanting muffled as it closed behind him.
“Oh Charlie, you’re just in time – breakfast’s just about rea-”
Lucifer stood up from the oven, a pair of duck-patterned oven gloves over his hands, holding a tray of what appeared to be nearly burnt pastries. Both he and Alastor stiffened at the sight of each other. The Radio Demon’s laughter died on his lips and his ears twitched forward. Lucifer’s bright, happy expression melted into a squint-eyed, cold smile.
“Oh… you.”
Alastor sneered and lowered himself into a sarcastic, over-exaggerated curtsey, holding his coat tails to either side.
“Good morning your travesty.”
Lucifer’s eye twitched. “Uh… it’s majesty.”
“I know what I said.” Alastor intoned smoothly. He pushed the Archangel in the small of his back with his cane and slid by him towards the refrigerator. Lucifer slid the tray onto the counter and glared into his back. The Radio Demon began to hum.
“So… you’re not dead…. That’s greeeat. Really.”
Alastor ignored him, his fingers tiptoeing gently across a row of red and gory bags on one of the lower shelves, eyeing the labels with a hidden sneer. He could feel Lucifer watching him. He had hoped this particular inhabitant wouldn’t be up yet, but he supposed he couldn’t have everything.
“Hope you’re not planning on bringing another bunch of irredeemable Sinners into my daughter’s hotel today.” He heard Lucifer call threateningly over to him after a moment’s silence. Alastor picked out one of the bags, the contents gurgling thickly as he tucked it under his arm and stood up with a reaffirmed smile. Lucifer’s eyes darted to the bloody red bag and he recoiled in disgust.
“Oh, well… you know, these things do sometimes happen.” The Radio Demon said airily, enjoying the reaction on Lucifer’s face. He pulled a plate from the cupboard and poured the contents ostentatiously onto it, making sure that the Archangel couldn’t look away. “Charlie understands these things. She’s quite a special young lady.”
“Uh…” Lucifer’s eyes seemed torn between the bloody, raw contents of the plate, and Alastor’s face. “Yeah - yeah that’s right!” He finally broke the hypnotic spell of Alastor’s breakfast and snorted, closing his eyes in a proud smirk. “Well, I guess she takes after her father.”
Alastor’s smile turned cold. He picked up his plate, pushing past Lucifer, doing his best not to make physical contact. His face darkened as he reached the door, and he muttered very quietly to himself: “...At least she doesn’t take after her mother.”
____
Angel slumped down the stairs, massaging his sore head in all four of his hands. Charlie had finally given in to Niffty’s incessant chanting and taken her into the kitchen to ask her dad for the insisted-upon pancakes. Alastor sat on the edge of one of the sofas, a napkin tucked into his shirt and sawing the raw heart into neat little chunks. Vaggie was watching, a look of disgust on her face, but kept silent.
“Where’s little miss loudmouth?” groaned Angel as he hit the bottom step. He slumped over the banister flatly and stayed there.
Vaggie twitched her head towards the kitchen door. “In there. Finally getting her pancakes.”
“Thank fuck for that.” He sighed. “It is way too early for this shit. I got a day long shoot with Val today.” Alastor stopped cutting his breakfast, feeling a jolt in his stomach. He’d been so thoroughly engrossed in the enjoyable chaos that he’d managed to push anything related to Vox or the Vees to one side temporarily. Unaware, Angel continued “He said somethin’ about watersports, so it’s gonna be messy.”
Vaggie made a quiet noise of disgust and rubbed her temple. “Yeah. Really didn’t wanna think about that first thing in the morning, Angel. Thanks.”
Angel glared. “Come on, like you and Princess Sparkleshit in there ain’t tried-”
“I swear. If you finish that sentence? I will kill you.”
Alastor began cutting his breakfast again as the two of them glared across the room at each other, the screech of knife against plate and the muffled giggling from the kitchen the only things breaking the resentful silence.
Eventually Angel extricated himself from the banister. Rubbing at the bags under his eyes, he sloped groggily over to the bar. He kicked one of the barstools out lazily and slouched onto it.
“Where the hell is Husk? I need a drink to get started.”
Vaggie frowned, suddenly concerned. She stood up and looked around. “Yeah good point. Where is Husk?”
Alastor raised a fork to his lips, blood dripping from the raw flesh back onto the plate. “Oh I’m afraid you’ll have to pour your own drinks today. He’s running an insignificant, tiny little task for me.” He wrapped his lips around the chunk of meat, pulled it into his mouth contentedly and closed his eyes in enjoyment.
“Alastor. He’s our bartender. What kind of hotel doesn’t have a bartender?”
“Hmmm… A boring one?” he said innocently, peering a single eye open into Vaggie’s frustrated face.
Vaggie opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment the kitchen door swung wildly open. It hit the rear wall of the bar with a bang, causing the hanging bottles to clatter violently. There was the sound of scurrying footsteps and Niffty reappeared around the side of the bar, holding a plate stacked with steaming pancakes. She pushed it onto the table next to Alastor’s and crawled up beside him.
“Hah. I got pancakes.” She giggled to him redundantly. He smiled warmly and continued with his breakfast.
“What the- does he have to eat that in here?”
Alastor glanced up. Lucifer had entered the parlour now with Charlie in tow. Her arms were held wide with a tray of very overcooked pastries. The smile on her face looked a little manic. Alastor raised the fork to his mouth again, slid his pointed tongue out and enveloped the raw meat before drawing it off the fork and into his mouth, the entire time staring insolently into Lucifer’s disgusted face. Charlie let out a nervous laugh and put the tray down on the table.
“Come on dad. I know that Alastor’s dietary requirements are a little…” she wafted a hand in midair, looking for a word that wouldn’t offend, “...unusual, but this hotel is about making everyone feel at home. And he has proved what a standup guy he can be – look at what he did last Extermination Day.”
Lucifer laughed in a slightly spiteful way. “Oh… you mean when he had his ass kicked by a loser?”
Alastor’s eye twitched. He placed a hand on the table and leaned forward malevolently. “Don’t you have a palace or something to go to?”
Lucifer mirrored his action, a smile tilted high on one side of his face. “That’s right. A big one. Fucking huge.”
“Some might say you’re compensating for something.” Hissed Alastor viciously as he dug his fingernails into the table subconsciously. The Archangel pressed his lips together in a furious glare and leaned across the table angrily.
Charlie had been watching the situation unfold nervously, eyes darting between her father and the Radio Demon with a growing sense of unease. She finally threw her hands up and stepped onto the rug in between the two tables. “OK, time out everyone!” She yelped loudly. Alastor pursed his lips in annoyance and began to finish up the last few bites of his meal, while Lucifer sat back, looking a little guiltily at the back of her head. Charlie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, centering herself. “Alastor… there was actually something I wanted to ask you.”
The Radio Demon sat back, suddenly wrong footed by the change of tone. He took a very brief, surreptitious glance at the still glowing blue V on the horizon outside the window and cocked his head to one side at Charlie, trying to appear idly curious rather than apprehensive.
Charlie started fidgeting with her fingers nervously. “Yesterday…” Alastor’s lip dropped a fraction. He covered it by dabbing at his mouth with the napkin. “...you weren’t here, so I had to put this off, but I was kind of hoping that today we could do some music therapy!” Charlie’s face lit up into a giddy smile. Alastor felt himself release a long, silent breath. His shoulders relaxed. “Now I know how much you love music, so I was wondering if you wanted to… yknow – lend a hand?”
Alastor stared into her excited, puppy-like face. It occurred to him how oddly endearing she could be. She – like the rest of this unhinged and chaotic assortment of misfits - had unfortunately grown on him in recent months. It was immensely frustrating.
It was almost reluctantly that he removed the napkin from his shirt and placed it delicately on the bloody plate. He stood up. “As hilarious as that sounds, my dear, I’m afraid I have a prior engagement today.”
Charlie’s face fell. Vaggie glowered and shifted slightly, moved to anger by the desolate look on her partner’s face.
“You cannot be serious. You’re leaving again? What happens if we need you?”
“No need to fuss, I’ll only be across town. If a crisis does arise, I’m sure it will be loud enough for me to hear.”
He reached out and patted Charlie’s hair as she stared at him, crestfallen. He gave her a polite smile and turned his back, heading out of the hotel and into the Pentagram.
He had to admit that mornings in the hotel were always entertaining. Breakfast had certainly distracted him from his discomfort – his panic-inducing realisation the night before, and the bitter memory that had slipped into his sleeping mind. Now he was out in the broad red daylight however, the thoughts in his head were starting to spiral a little again.
Hopefully Husker wouldn’t take too long finding Corah. He didn’t want to sit on this feeling for long. It felt dangerously close to a vulnerability he hadn’t felt since he was human. One he never intended on feeling again.
...And then, there was Vox. He frowned behind the smile. It had been nothing. The Television Demon was just another enemy now, nothing more. Why would he even consider anything else after all this time?
He stopped suddenly on his descent down the hill, feeling a strange mental tug at the back of his head. A prickling feeling of being watched slid down his spine.
Very slowly, he turned his head. He caught the slightest of movements out of the corner of his eye as a CCTV camera twitched on a nearby fence, trying to focus on him.
He turned bodily toward the camera, eyeing it darkly. It stopped moving.
He stood staring into it for a moment, the whisper at the back of his head growing just slightly louder before he managed to swipe it away.
He forced a wide, toothy grin onto his face, raised a middle finger at the camera, and cloaked himself in shadow, melting into thin air.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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The Contract