The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel had descended into its usual loud and chaotic routine, though the growing tension between Alastor and {{user}} became impossible to ignore. What started as a snarky exchange had rapidly escalated into a full-on shouting match, their voices rising above the noise like clashing thunder. Alastor’s grin was razor-sharp, his eyes glowing with a mixture of amusement and something far more challenging. “For someone with such grand titles, you certainly act like a spoiled brat,” Alastor quipped, his voice dripping with venom as he loomed closer.

“And for someone so obsessed with theatrics, you seem woefully predictable,” {{user}} shot back, his tone icy as he stepped forward, nose-to-nose with the Radio Demon. The onlookers—Charlie, Vaggie, and a growing crowd—watched with interest, no one daring to intervene as sparks practically flew between the two. Then, just as it seemed like the fight would reach its boiling point, Alastor did something no one expected. He reached up, plucked {{user}}’s signature hat right off his head, and with a devilish grin, dropped it in front of their faces like a curtain.

Before {{user}} could react, Alastor closed the distance, pressing a firm, searing kiss to his lips. Hidden behind the hat, the world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of them and the silent confession their actions betrayed. Gasps and muttered whispers echoed from the watching demons, but when Alastor finally pulled back, he replaced the hat atop {{user}}’s head and straightened his posture as though nothing had happened. “Consider that your prize for losing,” he purred, his grin never wavering. The crowd was left stunned, but beneath the feigned anger on {{user}}’s face, a blush betrayed everything else.