By The Light Of The Blood Moon

Goodnight, My Deer

Getting Alastor up the stairs was difficult, and for all the wrong reasons. Angel had suspected that a drunken Alastor might be interesting to deal with, but to be honest, the biggest problem was that he just would not shut up and sit still.

"Jeez Al," muttered Angel "Can ya knock that off? It's like trying to hold on to sand, hanging on ta you, and I don't wanna drop ya."

"But you're finally back, and you're so "*hic*-static sounds-mariachi music "soft." He was nuzzling into Angel's chest at this point, which was enjoyable, and that was the problem.

"You bein' all handsy ain't helping things, pal" Angel said under his breath. It was true. Angel had a hard enough time trying to respect Alastor's boundaries under normal circumstances, but with Alastor having such lowered inhibitions was making it very difficult for Angel to do the right thing. Sure, he'd love to have the chance to have his way with the red-haired demon, or more truthfully, to let the powerful radio demon have his way with Angel, but not like this. He wanted it to be Alastor's choice, and if there was one thing Angel had a unique understanding of, it was consent. He knew first hand that if you were plastered, even if you agreed, it wasn't really consent if you didn't have full control over your actions.

After what seemed like forever, the couple had finally arrived at Alastor's room, and thankfully his door was not locked. Angel chuckled to himself as he used his boot to push the door open. Alastor didn't need to lock his door because you'd have to be a special kind of stupid to try snooping around his room. It didn't matter if the door was open, if he wasn't in there, you didn't go in. Somehow, he always knew. Angel didn't know how Alastor knew, but he always knew.

Angel gently sat Alastor up on the side of the bed, pulling his feet and legs to rest on the bed as well, since Alastor was only just hanging on to consciousness by a thin thread. He slipped the shoes from Al's feet and set them beside the door, just as Alastor would have, then he pulled the covers up over the heavily intoxicated deer demon and left him momentarily, returning with a glass of water that he sat on the tidy nightstand beside the bed. Poor drunk bastard would be wanting that water when he woke up with what Angel assumed would be a killer hangover. Knowing Alastor, he hadn't even bothered to eat since this morning.

Angel gave one last long look at the radio demon, who looked so peaceful lying there with the covers pulled up to his chin, just the faintest hint of white noise emanating from him. Angel felt a rush of emotions wash over him, whether it was his own heart or the effects of the soul-knitting, he couldn't say, but he knew one thing for certain, this demon was his other half now and although it hadn't happened in a way that he might have preferred, he wouldn't change it now on his own account. He and Alastor really needed some private time together to talk this thing out and figure out what to do now. Things would have to change somewhat, because they couldn't remain exactly as they were, that he was certain of. He leaned over the bed, feathering a gentle kiss to the forehead of his soulmate, whispering "get some rest now and I'll see you in the morning." As he turned to leave, an arm snatched him from behind, pulling him quickly backwards into the bed. Angel was completely taken by surprise and let out a small gasp as he landed with his back to the sleepy deer demon.

"A-Al?" he questioned "what are you doing, buddy?"

Alastor's sleepy whisper shushed Angel's questions. "Please just stay here with me tonight, cher. I don't wanna be alone again."

Angel felt a strong arm slide over his side, pulling him close to the warmth of the other body in the bed. He might have been a bit taller than the other, but he was the little spoon for now, and that served him just fine. He snuggled into Alastor's embrace, realizing that he didn't really want to be alone this evening himself. For once in his after life, Angel felt at ease when he snuggled up close to Alastor, feeling the gentle breath on his neck.

"Goodnight, my deer."

"Night, my Angel."

Alastor awoke to a throbbing head and a second body snuggled up to his back. He quickly shot a glance around the room, taking silent stock of the situation. This was his room at the hotel. Good, he knew where he was. He noticed that nothing seemed out of place, besides the glass of water on the nightstand. He picked it up and gratefully drained the contents, wiping his mouth and setting it back down. He didn't remember putting it there, but he was certainly glad he had. He felt dehydrated and the booming in his head grew fiercer as he slowly sat up, trying to not disturb the sleeping fuzzy body next to him. Rubbing his aching head, he glanced down, confirming his suspicions that this was Angel Dust, but why was Angel in his bed?

Alastor sat a minute, thinking back to last night and realizing that he didn't remember coming to his room. The last real memory he had was at the bar with Husker, waiting for Angel. The rest were bits and pieces of what might have been memories, or might have just been dreams, he really wasn't sure.

Slowly he put the pieces together. He had been drinking with Husker, so he must have had too much. Well, he supposed that the liquor had tasted awfully good, although he hadn't ever been much of a drinker before. Perhaps this was also a side effect of the curse? Although Alastor hadn't been a big drinker, the demon snoozing peacefully next to him had certainly been and was. Perhaps that had been why he craved the booze? He gently rubbed his pounding head. He wished that he had also gained the ability to not have such a hangover. Apparently, that was asking too much.

He stared at Angel Dust sleeping in his bed. Had they perhaps? No, he thought with a blush. They wouldn't have, would they? Angel wouldn't have taken advantage of him that way. He was sure of it. He was still in his clothes, after all, and so was Angel Dust, for that matter. Alastor heaved a sigh of relief. He knew that he loved Angel Dust, and that he had been feeling that way even before the dance, but he wasn't ready for that kind of thing yet and wasn't entirely certain that he ever would be. Truth be told, Alastor had never felt a physical need for the more carnal aspects of a relationship and didn't know if that would change or not. He simply knew that even if things changed on that front, now was not the time. He simply wasn't ready for that.

So why was Angel in his bed? Perhaps Angel was missing his presence as much as Alastor had missed Angel's? He reached out, gently stroking the fur covering Angel's cheek, then pulling his claws lightly through the spider's mussed up hair, smoothing it as he did. The softness of Angel's fur never ceased to amaze Alastor, whose hair was thicker and almost wiry in places. Angel's fur, by contrast, was incredibly fine and soft, like that of a rabbit. He marveled at how shiny it was, and how had he never noticed that before? He leaned forward, laying a light and chaste peck on Angel's forehead, then stood up carefully, so as not to disturb the sleepyhead as Alastor excused himself to wash up and change his clothes.