Piggy Problems (A RadioDust Oneshot)

Piggy Problems

He could never in his afterlife tell his darling Angel;
But he hated that damn pig.
He cringed at the nails-on-chalkboard screeching that came from that accursed animal; he despised the messes it caused and the scratches those little hooves made against his hardwood floors.
     He could hardly quell the bubbling feeling of satisfaction when that swine managed to find his way out of the house. However, any enjoyment that came from that minuscule cretin's absence was overwhelmingly washed out by concern for his distraught lover. Angel was frantic, spending the last several days out late searching for him, only to come home a tearful, worrying mess.
Quite content with living in solitude up until he moved his lover into his home, he never understood the appeal of a pet, and furthermore failed to comprehend the odd mother-and-child relationship between Angel and that pig. Yet still, he accepted that Angel and Nuggets were a packaged deal and begrudgingly complied each time Angel begged him to join him in the hunt. After the fifth day of fruitless searching, Alastor foolishly brought up the notion of moving on, even offering to get him another—less 'piggish'—replacement animal.
Boy did that ignite the argument of the century and swiftly conclude with Alastor being banished to the couch to sleep that night.
He glared down at the floor in festering annoyance, sitting alone on the couch in the dark parlor. His coat and vest were off, folded neatly on the table in front of him. It was passing nearly two in the morning, yet Alastor felt no desire to sleep. Sleeping wasn't necessarily required as harshly for the overlord as it was for Angel or any other lowborn sinner; his powers could keep him running for a few days before exhaustion would finally win. It was more of a recreational act; an enjoyable experience when he was laying next to his companion.
This was utterly ridiculous, Alastor decided. Angel was acting far too irrational. To think, Him, the fearsome Radio Demon, kicked out of his own bed over a niggling little spat about a pig. He stood to his feet and marched up the stairs, fueled by his every intention to chide the spider for his ludicrous behavior.
That is until a small whimper stopped him at the entrance to their bedroom, the overlord peeking into the space through the crack in the door. Angel was laying alone in their bed, wreathed in a nest of pillows, mourning quietly to himself.
All that angered gusto that powered the overlord up the stairs faded away in an instant. As much as he hated that pig, he hated his lover's distress far more. He entered the room softly, the creak in the door garnering the spider's attention. Angel sat up, furiously wiping away the tears with his forearm before turning to look at the overlord. His tearfilled eyes narrowed angrily.
"I told ya' yer sleepin' downstairs ta'night, asshole." Despite the coldness, his tone wavered. Alastor noticed the spider's phone held in his hand, a picture of the missing pig adorned the screen. A small fleece lay bunched up in his lap, Angel's second pair of hands tangled into the material. Alastor recognized it as belonging to the pig, often seeing the creature blissfully dragging it about the house in his mouth as he looked for a suitable place to nap. Feeling the undeniable weight of defeat, he sighed; best not rehash this argument, it was only going to end the same as before. He continued his approach into the room, far more cognizant than before.
"Darling, I apologize. Of course we will continue searching for him." He carefully sat on the bed beside him, quite honestly prepared to be kicked out again. Instead, Angel's canted brows relaxed, his eyes falling down to the picture on the screen. His lip began to quiver again, additional tears slipping down his frazzled, furry cheeks.
"He must be so scared right now..."
"I'm certain he is all right." Alastor placed a gentle hand against his lover's back, trying his best to ease him. With a conjuring snap of his finger, a few of his shadow walkers manifested across the walls. Angel jolted at the sudden entities in their room, nearly falling out of the bed. Alastor caught the startled spider in his arms, taking his cellular device from him, and turning it to show the apparitions.
"Scour the city and find this swine." He ordered his shadowy minions, "bring him back to us-"
Alive; His thoughts added the contributory detail to spare Angel of the possible fate that quite may have befallen his beloved pet. The shadows obediently vanished from the room, leaving the two companions alone.
"Thanks..." Angel mumbled solemnly with a sniff, relaxing in the comforting hold.
"Of course, my dear. I cannot stand seeing you so inconsolable." The overlord swept his palm up and down the slouched curve of Angel's back, "may I remain here and wait with you?" He questioned, hoping he had earned back his bedroom privileges.
"Yeah..." Angel allowed it through an agglomeration of trailing tears and sniffles, deciding it much better to endure the long wait with the presence of his lover. He pulled away from the overlord in red's enfold, sitting back to lean against the headboard. With an unassuming tug at Alastor's sleeve, he indicated that he wanted him to lay further on the bed alongside him, the overlord obediently following the initiation.
They waited up for a few hours before sleep—Angel fought long and hard to deny it—snatched up the spider. Continuing on his slumbering companion's behalf, Alastor remained awake, adjusting Angel to sleep more comfortably under the covers before getting up from the bed and making his way out of the room. With the toll of stress building the last few days, Angel needed that rest more than ever. As he strode back down the stairs, he heard a muffled stirring behind him, followed by a distressed oink.
Alastor addressed the shadow that materialized behind him, Nuggets dangling by one of his back hooves in the phantom's grasp. Fat Nuggets struggled in the uncomfortable hold, screeching his displeasure to the heavens above. Alastor took him quickly from the callous carry in a bid to quiet the angered animal.
Wherever the runaway pig had scampered off to, it certainly did a number on him. Nugs was filthy, layered in dirt and grime; he had lost a bit of weight as well from his lack of regular feedings. Alastor's hold did little to comfort the pig, who struggled even more aggressively in the overlord's hands.
Oh, was it not mentioned before: quite honestly, the pig hated him just as equally. He violently kicked his toylike porcine feet to free himself from Alastor's clutches, but the deer kept a steadying grip, extending him away from himself as if Nuggets was a ticking bomb, raring to combust.
"You blasted swine! Keep quiet!" He hushed the thrashing pig, carrying him into the bathroom to clean him up. If Angel saw his precious pet in this wretched state, it would only serve to frazzle him more. He quietly filled the tub a quarter full and proceeded to clean the floundering animal.
Thank Satan that Angel was a heavy sleeper. The bathroom quickly turned into a warzone, much to the overlord's unsuspecting astonishment. In his decades here, Alastor had toppled organizations like they were nothing; he squashed the most powerful of overlords like ants under his shoes. None of that prepared him for the battle that came with cleaning Nuggets; on par with a vicious life and death struggle with one of hell's most formidable, wild beasts. It was by far the most violent, mentally draining task he had ever undertaken in his afterlife, somehow ending up with him just as wet as Nugs.
Finally, after a challenging, thorough deterge, he pulled the sudzy pig from the porcelain tub, aiming to feed the hungry animal once he dried him. As he reached for the towel, Nugs promptly booked it out of the bathroom and down the hall, trailing soap and water behind him. He watched the pig go in dismay, trying his best to control the carbonating anger that arose in his chest. The only thing keeping that bastard pig alive was how much he meant to Angel. The overlord leapt to his feet—towel in hand—with an aggrieved growl and hurried out after the pig, his murderous aura around him thrashing in annoyance for the frustrating night ahead of him.

The glow of the morning illuminated the quiet bedroom, streaking across the tired spider's face. He peeled his swollen eyes open, wincing at the morning shine that stabbed his adjusting vision. Pulling himself from the mattress with a groan, he looked around the empty room, a bit perturbed by the absence of the soul he fell asleep against. Speaking of which;
"Ah, you're awake, my dear." Alastor feebly entered the room, looking an absolute wreck, to state kindly. His clothing and hair were disheveled and drenched; his tired features barely able to uphold a weak smile. The stark state of disarray alarmed the arachnid, who leapt from the bed in a flurry of sheets and strode across the room to him.
"Babe, what the fuck happened to ya'?!" The ravaged Radio Demon declined a verbal answer. He instead opened up the door a little wider, a familiar flash of pink entering the room. Angel's eyes widened as Nuggets gaily strayed in, freshly cleaned and fed. The holler of relief that came from the pornstar practically made the walls around him shake, Angel swooping up the pig in a barrage of fresh, but joyful, tears.
"My baby!" He held the happy animal close, "don't ya' evah' scare daddy like that again!" He scolded the pig with a gentle cooing tone.
As the reunion dragged on, Alastor promptly staggered over to the bed, plopping down on his side of the mattress; he was utterly exhausted. The back of his head aggressively collided with the welcoming embrace of his pillow. Playing babysitter to that meddlesome swine was certainly enough to deplete his energy reserves.
With his closed eyes, he didn't notice his companion's approach until he felt the declining dip on the other side of the bed, and a brash, grateful kiss pressed to his weary lips. Alastor wrenched his eyes open to look up at the spider above him, heterochromatic eyes still watery, but a beaming smile stretched across his furry face. He held his missing pet close in his second pair of arms, using his first set to tend to his fatigued partner. Gentle hands cupped Alastor's worn face.
"Thanks for findin' him, baby."
"Of course, mon ange." He drowsily answered. Angel looked down as the content animal in his arms, far more well-behaved now that he was cleaned and fed.
"Did ya' behave for papa?" Angel questioned the pig. Alastor's eyes widened a bit, before they rolled in muted scorn for the ridiculous, new title. Nuggets oinked once in a gleeful reply to Angel's inquiry. Somewhere in Alastor's mind, though he couldn't technically comprehend the porcine language, he knew that bastard swine just lied to Angel about the events that occured.
However, he was just too tired to argue. He simply plucked one of Angel's hands from his face, softly melding his lips to his knuckles.
"He was a saint." Alastor extended the lie, closing his bleary eyes again. He heard a small giggle come from his delighted partner, before feeling Angel comb through his hair with gentle fingertips. The soothing feeling of his fingers massaging his scalp quickly lulled the overlord into much needed sleep.
Little did he know:
Nuggets had hinted his want to be released with a whining wriggle in Angel's hold, the spider complying, a bit surprised at the demand. He traipsed across the plush mattress over to the slumbering overlord, burying himself in the nook of his arm and drifting off to blissful sleep beside him;
Leaving an enamored Angel clamouring for his phone and taking an array of adoring photographs.