When Angel got back to the hotel in the morning, he was so fucked up. The Radio Demon was once again enjoying his morning tea time and mystery novel reading. Normally, they'd pass by each other without a word. But it hadn't exactly been normal lately.
Angel drooped two arms over the back of the chair across from Alastor and leaned forward on the chair. He gave the Radio Demon two enthusiastic thumbs up. "Hey buddy, that was fuckin fantastic out there yesterday. You sure pissed Valentino right off! I could just kiss ya!" Which, sure, was overfamiliar with an overlord of Hell, but they'd gone through two nights of bonding and Angel was feeling cocky about it.
Maybe he was still feeling the effects of the ecstasy.
"Please restrain yourself from touching me. We are not method acting and we are just hotel host and guest here," the Radio Demon said.
"Aww c'mon Smiles, you realllllly came through fer me. And we had a good time! Didn't we? I fuckin' did."
The Radio Demon set down his book with a sigh. "It was entertaining. Still, I've got better things to do with my time than bother myself with the affairs of a pimp."
"Oh." Angel deflated over the back of the seat. "Right. I got it." He was so stupid to think– to do– whatever. To involve himself with Alastor. What was it he'd come over to do? Thank the overlord, that's right. "Anyways, I just wanted– thanks again. Good times an' all that." Angel stood up and started towards the elevator.
—-
Alastor watched the spider head to elevator, looking dejected. He felt that damn pang in his chest again. "Wait," he said. The spider stopped. Really, what kind of hotelier would he be if he let his guests walk around looking depressed all the time? That's all it was. This fell under the duties of a hotelier and was nothing more.
"Yeah?" Angel asked.
"Would you… like to join me for tea this time?" Alastor asked. He could see the porn star's face was scuffed from a slap, if he had to guess.
"Yeah! Uh, I mean, sure. Not like I got anything better ta do, ya know?" The spider was quick to slide into the chair he'd just abandoned. "Uhhhh what's yer book about?"
"Hm? Oh, it's a short story based on a radio play. It's about a group of people who get snowed in on a stormy day and well, someone gets murdered. Multiple someones, in fact."
"Huh. I never got much ta reading down here but back when I was alive, when I was human I mean, there were these little adventure books about a guy named Jack Sparty and a plucky little gang of his that went around trying ta free his city from different gangs."
"Mm. What kind of tea would you like, my dear? Earl Grey? Chamomile?"
"Peppermint. If that's okay. I'd like peppermint," Angel said.
"One fresh peppermint tea, coming right up." Alastor magicked up some tea for him. They both sipped their tea in silence for a moment, until Alastor broke it. "How's the neck?"
Angel froze, then flushed. "You could tell, huh?"
"Doesn't quite match your tone, my dear."
"Oh." Another pause fell over them.
"Your neck?" Alastor prompted.
"Oh, yeah. That's– it's fine. Doesn't even hurt. Nothin's even broken. I think Valentino just wanted to toy around with me because we toyed around with him."
"Would you like some more salve?"
"Oh, pfft, no, this little thing? It's all good here really. But, um, thanks I guess." Another pause. Angel broke through the awkwardness this time. "Hey, you used to have this sick radio tower, right? Are you gonna build a new one?"
Alastor took a moment to consider his response. Very few people knew that his radio tower still existed, or where he'd moved it to, and he liked it that way. He wondered how the spider would react to it in its pristine state, in its heyday. He wondered what the spider would think of it today. It could be entertaining. And it would take the lesser demon's mind off of his most recent beating. "Would you like to see it?" he asked.
"What, you mean like in a picture or somethin'?"
"No, my fellow, I mean like would you like to visit my radio tower? It isn't what it used to be I admit, I'm still fixing it up really, but–"
"I'll go," Angel said.
"You will?"
"You're not planning to murder me there and broadcast the radio waves of my screams across Hell, right?"
Alastor laughed. "No, I most certainly am not. I promise you will return to this hotel as whole and hale as when you leave."
"Okay then. Let's go."
Alastor transported them to the doorstep of the radio tower and held the door open. "After you, my dear."
Angel walked in and with a snap of Alastor's fingers, the place lit up. Furnished in varying shades of crimson and black, there was a bar on the right side of the room and some cozy armchairs around coffee tables on the left. It closely mirrored the Hazbin Hotel's lobby on a smaller scale. Angel bet the Radio Demon had taken his inspiration from here. The bar and armchair were covered in a thick layer of dust, hiding the original pattern. Angel wiped some of the dust off the bar counter and whistled. The whole thing looked like it was made of a giant chunk of obsidian. Very classy, and wasted under all this dust. "What a place. Why'd you let it fall to pieces?"
"I was away for…. a while and then when I came back, there was the hotel to attend to. I am a very busy demon. Besides that, there were other areas of my tower that required more of my focus."
Angel frowned. The Radio Demon really did put the hotel first. Angel should return the favor. Angel pivoted towards the front door.
"Is- is that all you wanted to see of my tower? The rest of it is-" Alastor stopped as he realized Angel was propping the doors open.
"Where's ya cleanin' supplies?" Angel asked. "No time like the present. We're here, ain't we?"
"Don't you want the rest of the tour-"
"No. We've got work ta do here."
"I can always just have Niffty-"
"If you were gonna have Niffty here, she woulda been here by now. C'mon, don't you have a goddamn rag or somethin'?" Angel rolled up his sleeves. "Eight arms, could do a lotta dustin'."
The Radio Demon deflated and pointed a finger down the hallway. "The supply closet is this way."
It felt like good, hard, simple work cleaning up the lobby. Angel enjoyed the satisfaction of wiping the grime off a gleaming bar while Alastor hummed different showtunes. Sometime over the last few months that background static had become comforting. It just sounded right, somehow. Angel started humming along to one of the more familiar tunes too.
When it was all clean, the patterns on the carpet and armchairs were gorgeous. "It's a nice place you got here, ya know?"
The Radio Demon leaned against the vacuum he'd been using. "I've always rather thought so."
"Reminds me of the hotel. Cozy."
"It is– except to the uninvited guests who show up. I've machine guns in the ceiling and poison gas underneath that lovely countertop."
Angel raised an eyebrow. "You get uninvited guests often?"
"Nope!"
Angel chuckled. "Didn't think so."
The Radio Demon leaned towards Angel. "Would you like to see the rest of my tower now?"
"Lead the way, Smiles."
The second floor consisted of a few conference rooms in similar disarray as the first floor, and Angel insisted on cleaning that one too. The third floor was really something special though. Exiting the elevator there were a couple little tables lining a glass wall and you could see out across Hell. Angel whistled at the view. He also lived on a third floor at the Hazbin Hotel, but it was in the middle of the city whereas the Radio Demon's tower was aloft from it all and looked down upon the city. To the right of the glass wall was the kitchen, a simple but sturdy thing. The fridge was a retro, boxy thing that came in red and the whole kitchen was covered in a wallpaper that would have looked at home in the 30s, except instead of a pale yellow color with cute little sunflowers or daisies adorning it, it was red wallpaper with x's adorning it. Angel was more a fan of the pastel color palette, but he had to say it suited the other demon.
Down the hall was– "You're not going down the hall. I'm afraid it's not a part of the tour. And neither is the basement!" the Radio Demon smiled. Angel definitely did not want to visit the basement.
Angel Dust held his hands up in surrender. "Take me wherever you like, Smiles," and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"The fourth floor is the gem of my building," the Radio Demon introduced. The elevator opened up to reveal a large, open room with a wide desk with a microphone and large glass paneling behind it that looked over the city. The black leather chair behind the desk looked comfortable and well worn. There was another standing microphone off to the left, as well as a grand piano and a phonograph. There were also two rooms on the right side with glass panels on the front revealing stools and microphones inside them both. The wall adjacent to Angel was art deco style with those weird fan-looking patterns in crimson and gold.
"So this is where the magic happens, huh?" Angel looked around.
"Indeed it is!" the Radio Demon said. "How do you find it, my fellow?"
"It's a really nice place ya got here, Radio Demon. I could see how ya could spend a lotta time here." Angel was drawn to the smaller recording booths on the right. "Nice equipment ya got here." Which he totally meant but also, when you're a famous porn star in Hell, you gotta make a pun like that, so he winked at the Radio Demon.
"It's fully standardized for all recording needs. Songs, screams, whichever," the Radio Demon said, and Angel didn't know if he meant that to come across as menacing in response to Angel's tease but it did. Angel swallowed.
"Huh, that's uh- very nice," he said. He looked at the studio stool longingly. "Could I– uh, could I sing somethin' in there?"
The Radio Demon's eyebrows rose. "I did prioritize renovations here first, so I might as well get some use out of it. I assume you want it recorded for just yourself to have and not, say, make a deal for a radio broadcast?"
"Just me," Angel confirmed.
The Radio Demon opened the door to the booth for Angel. "The floor is yours."
Angel focused, took a deep breath, and began to sing.