A little RadioHusk fanfic featuring fat!Alastor. feel free to point out any grammatical errors
Oh to be summoned by the Radio Demon
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When it happened Alastor was almost always drunk, if you could call it that, the metallic stench of blood heavy on his breath. He would always be summoned into a room completely cloaked in darkness as well, save for the ominous red glow of the deer demon’s eyes. The darkness, Husk was sure of it, served to conceal how bloated Alastor looked on those particular nights.
It was obvious. He had felt bones, picked clean of flesh dig into his back or clatter to the floor after he had shifted his position on the bed, countless times already. That mixed with the involuntary groans and sudden belches that would escape Alastor’s lips made what was going on abundantly clear.
Husk knew about Alastor’s complicated relationship with food, his tendency to gorge himself at the slightest emotional setback. Hell, the overlord’s waistline had ballooned over the decades, a clear testament to overindulgence. He knew Alastor wasn’t invincible, far from it. Yes, he hid his feelings well but Husk had also seen him unable to get out of bed for weeks on end, surrounded by piles of dirty plates and filth. In those moments of despair Husk was the one Alastor fell back on.
Husk turned around to face that familiar pair of crimson eyes staring at him from the darkness. Although their glow seemed dimmer than usual, they looked…tired. The air around him felt thick with the stench of blood, rotten flesh and unwashed body. He wanted to cover his nose but stopped himself. Slowly Husk climbed onto Alastor’s rickety old bed, hearing it creak as the portly demon shifted his weight with a huff to make room for him.
The stench intensified as he felt a rough woollen quilt being pulled over his legs and up to his chest. “You know there’s a thing called air fresheners, right?” Husk grumbled, hoping to earn a chuckle from the demon beside him. All he got was the constant low hum of static, that surrounded Alastor, spiking into a loud crackle. So it really was one of those nights. With a sigh Husk leaned back against the pillow behind him, it felt clammy. Alastor’s breaths sounded laboured, suddenly a loud belch cut through the silence of the room. It almost sounded painful. “Pardon me”, Alastor mumbled quietly.
“It’s only natural….Do you want me to...?”
“Yes”
With a groan and a few aggressive creaks from the bed frame, Alastor snuggled closer to Husk. A warm, round mass pressed against the cat demon’s side, Alastor’s gut. Gently Husk reached out and began to rub slow circles into the demon’s swollen midsection. It felt soft, the fat did, although beneath it Alastor’s stomach was undeniably stuffed taut. Husk didn’t even want to know how much he had eaten or what or *who*. After a while the overlord’s head came to rest on Husk’s shoulder, his wiry curls tickling the bartender’s sensitive nose. Soft burps still escaped his lips although they now sounded a bit less painful. Soon his entire body felt more relaxed.
Husk could feel Alastor’s hot breath against his ear, he could smell it too. A vile odour, one he’d grown used to, however. A hiccup made the warm mound beneath Husk’s paws wobble. It felt surreal to think back to how Alastor had looked when they had met for the first time decades ago. Lean and bony, malnourished even. Now he was soft all over, with a prominent belly that rested in his lap.
“You can stop now, Husker,” Alastor whispered. “My stomach can handle the rest on its own.”
Husk’s paws stopped their gentle rubbing, although he couldn’t resist giving Alastor’s gut a little jiggle.
“You’re gonna need a new suit again one of these days if you carry on like that”
“Rosie is a perfectly capable tailor.”
He sounded less troubled now, a good sign.
Now it was Husk’s turn to receive some affection. Slowly he shifted a little closer to Alastor, resting his head on the demon’s plush chest. The larger demon’s heart was beating rather rapidly, Husk smirked to himself, it wasn’t often that he got to witness the overlord getting flustered. Cautiously Alastor wrapped an arm around him. Husk let out a small purr.
About half an hour had passed and already soft, static-laden snores could be heard as Alastor dozed contentedly. Not wanting to jostle his (more than) friend awake, Husk decided to spend the night snuggled close to him. Sleep more often than not, eluded the radio demon so it was rare to find him resting so soundly. “Sleep tight, Al”, Husk whispered before letting his own eyes fall shut.
A few rays of early morning light were already filtering through the moth-eaten curtains when Husk stirred awake. Something was ticking his armpit. Expecting the worst Husk turned his head to the side. He was met with an outrageous sight. Alastor’s face lay buried deep in the cat demon’s armpit, inhaling his scent greedily. His warm breaths were causing the tickling sensation. “For Pete’s sake”, Husk muttered under his breath. This had happened before and it never failed to catch the bartender off guard.
A gentle poke to Alastor’s plump little double chin only elicited a sleepy whine from the demon. Clearly, he wanted to stay in his current position. With a long sigh , Husk resigned himself to enduring the predicament of having Alastor’s nose glued to his armpit until the overfed demon woke up. At least his burgundy and white striped pyjama shirt had ridden up, giving Husk a delicious view of the overlord’s well-padded middle.
Just another lovely morning in hell, Husk thought.
~The End~
