Work Text:
“You’re adorable.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’re my precious little love.”
“You’re my sweet darling.”
“Love you.”
“Love you more.”
“Mon petit ange.”
“My big, beautiful buck.”
Husk briefly stopped polishing glasses to shoot an incredulous “do you see this shit?” look at Angel, who was perched on a barstool that served as a front row seat to what the staff privately referred to as the nightly floor show. Alastor was sitting at one of the small tables by the bar, cuddling Lucifer on his lap. The angel and his demon were lovingly gazing into one another’s eyes and cooing endearments between kisses.
It was appalling.
“I think I liked it better when they fought all the time,” Husk muttered. “This kissy-face crap is sickening.”
Angel teased, “Oh, come on, Whiskers. Can’t you see that Short King and Smiles are in love?”
“In love and shitfaced. That’s the problem! The entire fucking hotel can see that, whether we want to or not. I mean, do you want this in your head?” Husk gestured towards the couple. “Look!”
“Ma petite pomme, you smell good enough to eat,” Alastor murmured, nuzzling and licking Lucifer’s neck.”
Lucifer reached up to fondle Alastor’s ears. Pressing himself up against the demon’s chest, he purred, “Then maybe you should eat me, my fawn. I can think of something I’d love to have you taste.”
Angel laughed at the disgusted look on Husk’s face. “Every night,” the former Overlord grumbled. “They do this every fucking night.”
“I think it’s kind of cute.”
“Are you fucking high? The King of Hell and the Radio Demon getting drunk and sucking face in front of my bar is not ‘cute.’”
“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss, Kitten.” Angel blew Husk a kiss. “It’s making me horny, baby.”
Husk smiled despite himself. “Everything makes you horny,” he said.
Lucifer began fiddling with Alastor’s belt buckle as the demon nibbled on his ear.
Husk rolled his eyes. “I’d better stop this shit before they go at it right there. Your Majesty? Boss? Maybe you should get a room.”
Perking up his ears, Alastor chirped, “That sounds like a wonderful idea! Here, mon cher.” He swept several empty glasses and a half-full bottle of rye aside to clear a spot, then gently lifted Lucifer off his lap and sat him on the table. Kissing the angel on the tip of his nose, the demon stumbled up to the bar. “I’d like to book your finest room, my good man,” he announced.
Husk stared at him, puzzled. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Why, to stay in, of course! Why else would I want a room?”
Sighing, Husk replied, “Boss, I’m not going to book a room for you.”
Alastor snorted in fury, snarling, “May I ask why?”
With a long-suffering, over-this-shit air, Husk answered, “You live here. You have your own suite. You don’t need to book a room.”
“Well, I want one! Are you denying me service?”
While Alastor was preoccupied, his shadow seized the moment and crept out from behind the bar. It approached Lucifer and, kneeling down, rested its head on his leg. Lucifer smiled down at it and stroked its insubstantial ears. “Oh, it’s Slim Shady! Are you being a good boy? Of course you are. You’re always good, sweetie.” The shadow rubbed its face against Lucifer’s thigh as though it were marking him. Had it had a tail like its master, it would have been wagging it joyously.
At the bar, Alastor squawked, “Are you prejudiced? Is that why you won’t permit me to book a room? You’re prejudiced against deer, is that it? You are! Against deer demons! This is an outrage!”
Happy to have something to do while he sat on the table waiting, Lucifer began rapping to the shadow.
“I’m Slim Shady, yes, I’m the real Shady!
All you other Slim Shadys are just imitating!
So won’t the real Slim Shady please stand up?
Please stand up? Please stand up?”
Slim Shady bobbed its head to the rhythm, clearly enjoying Lucifer’s performance and bopping along.
Alastor growled, “I’m going to make this public, you know! Hazbin Hotel is prejudiced against deer demons! What will the papers say?”
Husk began, “Boss, please, listen…”
Ignoring him, Alastor snapped, “I demand to speak to the manager!”
“You are the manager.”
Lucifer slid down into a chair and put his arms around where he figured the shadow’s neck should be, asking, “So, what are you up to tonight, sweet thing?” The shadow wriggled happily against him, then sat on his lap with its arms around the angel’s waist.
Alastor slammed his hands down on the top of the bar. “Fine! I’m leaving! I’ll never try to book a room at this establishment again, since obviously my type isn’t welcome here! Good day, sir!” Turning sharply on his heel and nearly losing his balance in the process, he stomped back to where Lucifer and his shadow were snuggling.
“Oh, hi, baby,” Lucifer said. “You know Slim here, right?”
Alastor loomed over the pair threateningly. “You, get your paws off him! Luci, come with me! We’re going home!” The demon scooped Lucifer up into his arms, kissed him, then stormed across the lobby and up the staircase, the shadow in tow. At the top of the stairs, he turned and bellowed, “I’ll show you that nobody messes with the Radio Demon! You haven’t heard the last of me!” He stalked off down the corridor to his quarters, slamming his door shut so hard that all the hotel’s windows shook.
Husk grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a slug. “Same shit every night,” he groused.
Laughing, Angel said, “At least it’s never boring!”
“Neither is a trainwreck.”
Husk went back to polishing the glasses.