Sweet Treat

Money was more likely to leave the hands of customers when alcohol was involved, and any business-savvy bun worth their salt knew that much at the very least. Velvet Temptations was no different: liquor flowed freely from the bar, and every table in the house even got a complimentary bottle of wine to start off with—the “cheap stuff”, Angel remembered Bliss calling it, meant to get customers in the mood to spend more during their time at the cabaret club. It was an ingenious move, one that seemed to work, and it wasn’t long before their generous clients were waving around their credit cards with puffed-out chests.

For a cherubun, it was hard not to notice how often alcohol seemed to take center stage in Burrowgatory. Unable to drink liquor, Angel has only tasted lingering traces of it on the lips and tongues of his patrons, and didn’t relish its oft-bitter taste. Intoxicating or not, he couldn’t understand how something so vile-tasting could become so popular. He had voiced that comment the first time he’d tasted it—courtesy of Bliss, who had seduced Angel into his first kiss with the ease of a practiced host, bidding him closer with a finger hooked on the ring of his choker—and Bliss had simply smiled and batted his eyelashes, the humor in his gaze apparent.

“You might not ever know how it feels to crave alcohol,” Bliss had said, licking his lips as he straddled Angel. “But you’ll know what it’s like to be addicted to something soon enough.”

Angel used to think that his convictions were unshakeable before that, but unfortunately Bliss had been right, and it wasn’t long before Angel finally understood. He wasn’t strong enough to resist the siren song of something that promised to make you feel good, even if it wasn’t good for you—so how could he possibly expect the same of anyone else? He was no hypocrite. So when the liquor began to flow freely at the tables he sat at, he no longer felt perplexed by his patrons and their boundless love for the mystifying drinks. Angel might even say that he felt an understanding now, or that he might even be jealous of them and their ability to indulge in something so readily available to them. 

Alcohol wasn’t just present in the drinks, either: Velvet Temptations offered a number of sweet treats for patrons to enjoy, all containing some level of alcohol in them. There were plump grapes that had been soaked in sparkling wine and rolled in sugar, twinkling from glass dishes like precious cabochons; decadent chocolate mousse cakes made with Irish cream, as light and fluffy as a cloud; liquor-filled chocolates dusted with gold leaf; and Angel couldn’t forget the champagne-soaked strawberries, coated in a sinfully rich layer of white chocolate and plugged with pipettes full of even more champagne. They all looked and smelled so enticing, and none of it was available for him to taste. 

Some patrons had definitely tried to get him to try a few things. The better behaved clients would wave the treats in front of him, coaxing him to have a taste as if he were a shy imp, while the less savory patrons promised even more money if he simply opened up that pretty mouth of his and took a bite—just one little bite, what’s the harm in that?—as if those alluring foods didn’t have the potential to kill him. With cherubuns being so new, most of them simply didn’t know any better…but there were the few who loved to feel powerful and in control, and the only things stopping Angel from succumbing to their pressure were the watchful eyes of the other hosts and hostesses, namely Bliss and Eros.

So it came as a surprise when, one night, Eros had allowed Angel’s patron to order a small plate of strawberries for him. The patron in question was a regular by the name of Gabriel, and most of the staff seemed to know him fairly well. Eros especially acted particularly bratty when Gabriel visited, often climbing onto the man’s lap to dip her hands into his pockets as if whatever was in there was something only she had the right to claim. And maybe it was, judging by how the nobleman never bothered to stop her when she did it.

This was only Angel’s second session with Gabriel, and it wasn’t unusual for newer clients to make a mistake with him. However, the gesture still confused him; Gabriel had made it abundantly clear during their first meeting that he already knew quite a lot about cherubuns, and was well aware that Angel couldn’t ingest anything alcoholic…and Eros, overprotective as she was, was the first to steer his patrons away from offering him anything alcoholic, yet she hadn’t said a thing when Gabriel had asked her to personally fetch the cherubun’s treat-to-be. Was this supposed to be a test, or something…?

“You seem troubled,” Gabriel said, bringing Angel out of his thoughts.

He looked at the succubun thoughtfully and inclined his head. “Just thinking. I…” Angel bit his lip. He wasn’t used to the whole boundaries thing, and internally despaired over how he should be wording himself. If he was too forward, would Gabriel be offended? He glanced at the man again and was met with a gentle, encouraging smile. “Ah, nevermind, it’s not important. I’m sorry.” Angel would hate to be the reason why the man stopped smiling.

Still, that smile never left Gabriel’s face. It even seemed to grow a little toothier at Angel’s apology, the succubun seemingly…humored? “It’s the strawberries, isn’t it? You’re worried that it might have alcohol, yes?”

Angel nearly shrinked away from the question. Was it that obvious? “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” he replied meekly, looking away from his patron. “I just have to be careful, is all. If I were to get sick…”

Gabriel clicked his tongue. “Eros was right. You’re much too forgiving.”

“I—sorry?”

“Humor me, Angel. What if Eros wasn’t here, and these strawberries are drenched in alcohol? You’re clearly bothered by the idea of being made to eat them, but you were quick to say the matter wasn’t important the moment you looked at me. The matter of your own wellbeing.” Although Gabriel spoke casually, his words still stung. Angel felt like apologizing and hiding his face in shame—his own client, lecturing him all of a sudden, how bad of a host must he be?—and sensing as much, Gabriel patted his lap. “Come here. Sit.” This time, the authority in his voice was clear as day. Angel obliged.

It was strange; Angel was an inch taller than Gabriel, but when he straddled the man’s lap, he felt incredibly small. He shivered as one of Gabriel’s hands snaked around his waist, and gave a few affectionate strokes to his fluffy tail. Embarrassed, he looked away—but Gabriel was quick to correct him.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Naturally, he had to listen. The client was the boss, after all.

“This could kill you, but you’re so eager to please that your first thought is to comfort your client and let them know that, even if they might be leading you to your demise, you still feel gratitude for what they’re doing. Is that what you were taught up there above the clouds, hmm? To let others use and abuse you?” Gabriel’s free hand squeezed Angel’s thigh. Even through the fabric of his pants, he could feel those sharp claws digging dangerously into him. Unable to look away without risking the succubun’s ire, he felt helpless, like he truly was getting scolded... 

“If I were a less patient man, I would’ve already taken advantage of your mercifulness. Luckily for you, I can wait a little longer.”

He…can wait? Wait for what? Angel blinked and opened his mouth, about to ask what exactly he meant when the door swung open.

The playful humming gave the intruder away as being Eros, who had finally returned with a tray full of strawberries. She stopped upon seeing the two—Angel in Gabriel’s lap, seemingly on the verge of tears—and…pouted?

“Gabriel! I told you not to mess with him when he’s alone. What did you say to him?”

Gabriel smiled cheerily. “Oh, nothing, just a spot of bullying to pass the time. I can’t help it—not when he looks so darling when he’s all teary-eyed. It’s little wonder to me now, why you and Bliss have been so gung-ho about supervising him all the time.”

Eros walked over with the tray and set it on the arm of the couch that the two men were currently seated at. “Hmph! I should’ve had someone else get the strawberries. Look at him. You can’t just say mean things for fun—” The petite succubun was about to fuss over Angel, but was quickly waved away by Gabriel.

“It’s not the end of the world, Eros. I didn’t insult him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Plus, Angel is a big boy who can handle himself…and he’s so forgiving, besides. He wouldn’t hold a little teasing against me.” The older man plucked one of the strawberries off of the plate and looked at the cherubun in question, smiling as if he hadn’t just drilled into the man’s flaws. “Isn’t that right, Angel?”

Angel blinked away his unshed tears. This entire situation was bewildering to him: the strawberries, the sudden way that Gabriel seemed to switch from kind to stern and back again without warning, and Eros’ attitude towards the whole thing. He could only nod dumbly in response, wondering if he was the butt of some joke.

Pleased with his answer, Gabriel purred out a “good boy” before holding up the strawberry for Angel. “Please, accept this as an apology from me. I’ve been told that you’ll find it enjoyable.”

The cherubun eyed the strawberry warily. It was a beautiful red, with a luscious sheen from being submerged for hours. Strangely, the strawberry didn’t smell like alcohol at all—it smelled familiar, in fact, though Angel couldn’t pinpoint why. He looked to Eros for guidance, and the woman grinned back at him.

“I think you’ll like it too. If you don’t, you aren’t obligated to eat it, promise.”

“Okay…” Well, nothing else for it. Angel leaned forward and took a bite of the strawberry. His reaction was near-instantaneous, and his eyes widened in surprise at the accompanying taste of vanilla that mingled with the sweetness of the fruit. This couldn’t be anything else but divine ambrosia, but how? Primrose definitely wouldn’t have given some to a host club, of all things…

Sensing Angel’s wonder, Gabriel graced him with an explanation. “Did you know? One of the nuns that I play with at the church from time to time has a cherubun for a partner. A cherubun that you know, in fact: Vanna. They were quite pleased to learn that I knew you, and was happy when I told them that I wanted to make some treats for you. Getting ambrosia for a club peddling sex would be impossible, but if it were a member of the church or an individual cherubun…”

“So you got Vanna to get it for you instead?” Angel licked his lips after finishing the strawberry. He looked at the remaining fruit on the plate, clearly eager for another, but still hesitant at the explanation. “Did you…”

“Don’t worry, they’re none the wiser to what you do for a living. Although, your little friend is awfully inquisitive. I’d recommend you tell them eventually before they find out on their own.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Eros butted in, handing another strawberry over to Angel to pacify him. “For now, I think we can agree that this has been a successful gift! It sucks that we can’t keep ambrosia on hand for Angel, but maybe we could incentivize our patrons to bring some in for us…”

Angel could tell that Eros was already making up a new scheme in her head from the way she rubbed her chin, but quickly decided that that would be a problem for the Angel of the future. Right now, he was content to indulge in this rare treat while the two buns observed him.

“You know,” Gabriel started, arching a brow, “you could just carry a small serving of fresh fruit at the bar for him. Does it have to be soaked in ambrosia?”

“Of course it has to be soaked in ambrosia! Angel deserves the best—he’s making us a lot of money right now, you know. We gotta treat him well, so he stays happy.”

“Is that so? How industrious of you.”

Gabriel and Eros would continue their back-and-forth while Angel happily finished off the tray of strawberries. The sweet treat was enough to make him feel better, but he still couldn’t get over the sudden conversation that happened just before Eros returned. Something told him that the next time Gabriel came to see him, their session wouldn’t be as casual as it was now…

What a bizarre night.