In the early hours of the morning, it was a habit for two lovers of the Hazbin Hotel to meet before anyone else rose.
A shadow formed in Princess Charlie's bedroom, emerging a redheaded, smiling demon with a microphone cane in his head. He lacked his signature pinstripe coat—it being five in the morning meant he'd barely gotten dressed for the day.
He sauntered over to the slumbering princess and shifted the blanket gently making room for himself in the large four-poster bed and snuck in next to Charlie, laying his cane against the night stand.
It seemed to do the trick for she roused lightly when he slipped an arm around her waist and came in close from the back.
"You know Vaggie will come in any minute," she muttered groggily.
She heard him chuckle quietly. "And I shall do what I usually do, my dear."
Every morning, if she didn't come into his bed, he did. And if Vaggie came knocking to wake her up, Alastor would simply fade back into his shadow, leaving no trace of his presence in her bedroom so early.
One time, he nearly got caught when he'd placed his cane closer to her dresser. Charlie had come up with a quickfire excuse that she'd been hiding it from him as a prank, and Vaggie had somehow believed the very unbelievable lie.
He kept that thing near him at all times, he'd never part with it for longer than two or three minutes at a time.
She shrugged and dug her head back into her pillow while pushing her hips into his.
"Ah ah, not so early," he chastised her. "You said it yourself, Miss Vagatha will come in at any moment." He made no effort to move away from his lover, instead enjoying the warmth of the thick blankets and the warmth of Charlie's back.
"That's not her name," she snorted softly. Sir Pentious' nickname for Vaggie seemed to gain traction with just about anyone who listened. "We do need to tell her." She muffled into her pillow.
"And we shall,"
"Soon preferably."
"Soon enough," he agreed with her quietly. "Might I remind you that it is you whom wanted this secrecy,"
Four months ago, after many weeks of having been broken up with her girlfriend, Charlie approached Alastor one evening, chest full of courage and asked how he might feel about a relationship. To her surprise, he'd simply smiled kindly and reciprocated interest despite Charlie's strong insistence for secrecy.
She had explained that she didn't want to make it awkward around the hotel with displays of affection. It should have been of no surprise that he'd eagerly accepted those very terms—he wasn't keen on physical contact, even less when everyone could see him.
Behind closed doors, it seemed he changed drastically. He didn't mind her hugging him, touching his hair, and he didn't mind touching her or making the first move and tapping the top of her head with his cane on the occasion.
When around the other residents or in public, they returned to their public facades; a few inches away, but clearly friendly enough to be closer than acquaintances. He allowed a small hand in his elbow on the occasion when they visited Cannibal Town, it was a regular act for men and women there due to the old fashioned traditions of its inhabitants.
There, they could leisurely have some tea in a cafe of his recommendations and happily do a casual date of some kind.
They never did get very many moments alone during the day at the hotel. Someone or something was usually happening and moments like these—cuddles in the sheets together in the early mornings—were so rare and so few in between.
Pushing things further was even harder. The furthest they'd gone so far was Alastor pulling her into his room to 'look over some papers' and they'd managed twenty minutes of alone time where Charlie had all but pounced on her poor business partner and kissed him silly.
It was amazing how a dead deer sitting on a dinner table wasn't a mood killer, but it seemed that the smell and the look of it only affected Charlie when there was finally a knock on the door. She'd turned around and witnessed the thing just sitting there and Alastor had smiled and mentioned it was his lunch.
"What are we doing today?" She asked, turning and shifting onto her back to look at her boyfriend. He had his eyes closed, his hair seemed half-kept, but showed signs that he had only really passed his hands through it rather than comb it clean.
He blinked tiredly and met her eyes before closing them against and relaxing once more.
Before he could answer, a loud knock resounded off the door, earning a quiet groan from the two cuddled in the bed.
"We will figure that out when I've had my coffee, dear." He whispered quietly, crawling out of the bed, grabbing his microphone and fading into his shadow and leaving the princess in her bed alone.
Just as the shadow faded, the door swung open and revealed Vaggie, ready for the day and determined as if on a personal mission.
She swung the curtains open and then made her way to the bed to shake Charlie awake.
"You don't need to do that." She groaned as Vaggie started shaking her shoulder.
The ex-fallen angel shrugged. "I thought I heard a voice in here."
Charlie forced herself not to react. She was a terrible liar. "I'm talking to myself." She lied with a smile.
Vaggie raised a brow. "You talk to yourself in the morning?"
They did share a room for many months… A lie would have to be believable.
"Don't you?"
The other residents were none the wiser as usual; Alastor greeted Charlie politely once more in the lobby as if it was the first time he was seeing her that day, and she smiled brightly as she always did for everyone.
He was finally awake properly, having drank his coffee and eaten his breakfast before coming down.
There were a few papers he looked through, including budgets and some of his dear Charlie's ideas to attract patrons. Trust falls again, games, he would probably just watch from above as he usually did.
Personally, he found little entertainment in participating in the activities unless he could strike a worthwhile deal, but such a thing was not the point of the establishment; he could find contentment simply watching his belle smile and cheer gleefully like the misplaced rainbow that she was.
How anyone managed such cheeriness in such a gloomy place for so long was seemingly impossible, but oh the sweet Princess truly was one of a kind.
Besides, the last time he participated in one of their games, he'd taken part in an incredibly familiar game of Checkers and no one had really stood a chance. Only Husker seemed to have a proper inkling on how to play the simple game, Alastor had somehow skillfully taken every single one of Angel Dust's pieces in one fell swoop—he was accused of cheating but he really hadn't enchanted the pieces.
Maybe today he could get away with skipping over to his tower for some much-needed seclusion away from the chaos of the hotel. Yes, he'd do that.
He watched Charlie down below pitching her idea of today's activity.
She's so cute, so happy. Should leave her to her things here.
He caught her attention briefly with a wave and pointed up to his tower with his radio cane. She waved him goodbye with a loud "bye" as he smiled and retreated into his shadows.
It took Charlie about four hours before she came to find him in his radio tower.
She waited patiently as he wrapped up his broadcast, and the moment he ended it with a click of a button, she was already pulling his chair back and throwing herself into his lap.
His grin turned from his usual one to mischievous. "Did you miss me?" His hands lay on each side of her waist delicately. He was still getting used to the sudden and more sexual acts she did towards him. Up until a few weeks before, he had only really held her hand, had her hand in the crook of his arm and the casual little hugs she gave everyone.
She straddled him in his chair, peppering kisses on his face as she did when she was in one of her more excitable moods. The woman was essentially a succubus in both the metaphorical and physical sense; she was energetic and crazed for any physical contact, but neither of them were too sure if it came from her being so full of positivity or her mother's heritage peeking out occasionally.
Nevertheless, he let himself be the willing victim to her endless seemed to be on a mission as she tried to deepen their kiss. Rushed, her hands fumbling with her red jacket and threw it to the side where it landed in a heap near the coat hanger.
"Why so rushed?" He asked her when they came up for air. "Take your time," He moved her hair out of the way and pulled her back to him.
Her hands roamed and pressed firmly into his shirt, feeling him as best she could over his button up and vest. "You should take your coat off more often," she breathed out, clawing over his vest lightly.
"You like me without it? I find myself quite dashing," he teased her. He had taken off his jacket and hung it when he came to his tower earlier, but he quite enjoyed the tighter feel of the vest over his undershirt.
Rather than answering his question, she popped the buttons of the black vest and discarded it into the pile with her jacket.
He felt a boost of confidence at the pure insatiable hunger that flooded his Charlie's eyes.
He knew he was handsome; he hadn't abandoned his gentlemanly habits from his life on earth. He had all of his clothes tailored to fit him and only him. His mother had instilled it that a well-dressed gentleman was always better no matter what.
Guess it's true then. If Charlie could undress him with her eyes only, his clothing would have been torn to shreds.
Alastor tried to keep his breathing normal and his heart rate under control. She made him nervous when she looked at him like that; like she wanted to rip his clothes off and consume him in every way. He had some experience, but he couldn't say he was experienced in the same way; alive, he'd touched a woman or two, but never more than that. his mind was too preoccupied with everything else to really desire sexual or romantic relations.
Charlie, Oh Charlie, was so different. It was hard to find someone so effortlessly attractive, hard to find someone so naturally bubbly and positive, yet so possessive and dominant.
He would gladly let her take the reins anytime, much like she was doing right now.
He had barely caught her undoing his belt and playing with the hem of his pants, they'd been far too enthralled in their kissing. Heavy breathing and tongues entwined, it was so easy to get lost in Charlotte, so easy to get lost in her hips pressing and rubbing against him.
The arms of the chair were frustrating. He could see Charlie shift against the arm rests, readjusting her shins and trying to press around him rather than over him, but she made no effort to move out of the chair and onto a better surface, rather she pushed herself harder against the growing bulge in his trousers.
"Sweetheart," he gasped out as she ground especially roughly against him. She continued this motion, occasionally rolling her hips and shifting to get him properly against her core.
Then she really began grinding.
Charlotte rested her head against his shoulder, squeezing and gripping his shirt into her hands as her breathing gradually got heavier. It was mostly fluid; she would tighten her legs further against him on one side or another—likely avoiding the painful armrests—and try to regain her rhythm.
Having had enough of the chair and its inflexibility, he effortlessly picked her up as he stood up and carried her over to his small bedroom he kept in the tower when he wanted more privacy.
She gasped as she was lifted into his arms and giggled and couldn't hold her smile back as he made his way across to the door that separated the broadcasting room from his private bedroom.
"You are incorrigible, sweetheart" He teased as he entered his bedroom and kicked the door shut. He plopped her down onto his bed and crawled over her and recaptured her lips, at first keeping it somewhat chaste until Charlie grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled.
All self-control flew out of the window when the pain sank in; he grabbed her wrists and pinned them them to her sides and went for her bare neck, sucking and scrapping his sharp teeth against her skin.
"Al," she breathed out, writhing beneath him. She wasn't sure if he was aware of what his knee was doing between her legs, but it was perfectly placed against her core.
The light flooding in through the red-paned windows set the mood perfectly in his room, dark but enticingly sexual in nature, even if he hadn't meant for it to be like that.
For a man who claimed to not have intense sexual desires, he sure did know how to put sex appeal into everything…
With his free hand, he unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and let it fall open against his sheets.
Before she could do anything, one of his claws sliced down the middle of her bra, freeing her small breasts and allowing him access. He wasted no time looking, instead choosing to suck hickeys across her collarbone roughly.
Suddenly, a large flash of light nearly blinded them through the tower's numerous windows.
He stopped but kept his lips on her. Charlie watched his eyes twitch, but he didn't budge from his spot. When he showed no signs of retreating or worries, Charlie stopped for a moment.
He let go of her wrists and came up to look at her through half-lidded eyes. "It's fine, ignore it," He told her, putting his hands on both sides of her head.
"But what if it's bad?"
"If it's bad, we'll hear screams, I'm sure." He reassured her and grinded his knee against her a bit more. "We're finally alone with no one to bother us, let's enjoy it." She moaned quietly from the pressure below and bit her lip.
She glanced one last time out the window and, at the sight of no other problems or rising smoke, she returned her attention to her lover above her.
"If there's more, we'll go." He compromised, also looking outside. They felt no tremors beneath them, so it couldn't be that bad. If someone had attacked the hotel, one of them would have seen the smoke or a tremor as they did so often.