Chapter Text
"No, thank you."
Husk had received half a dozen invites to attend one of Angel's shows, usually through drunken suggestions of "Just a thought. You don't gotta." or self-centered displays of "I'm the best there is. You should come watch!"
The thing is, Angel knew it wasn't really within Husk's realm of entertainment to enjoy anything as sexually gritty as what Angel was into. He'd seen enough of the unsavory adult films the porn actor had starred in, even attempting to view it through a neutral lens, and he still failed to understand the appeal behind the sex industry. It didn't do anything but further sour his taste in it every time he saw his friend stumble in on far too many 3 AMs with bags under his eyes and a painful lurch in his walk.
So when Angel invited him to another one, he sighed and well… he didn't intend for it to hurt the other's feelings.
"Why do you never wanna come?" Husk thought there was a joke in there somewhere, but seeing as Angel didn't jump at the chance to so much as giggle at himself, he knew he must have upset him.
He glanced over his shoulder at the spider, who tapped a finger against his glass of whiskey. It was a feigned act of annoyance, but Husk recognized it as one of Angel's more nervous gestures.
"You know that ain't my scene," Husk replied. And it was neither an excuse nor a lie. He knew that Angel was aware of that matter and had grown to extend an arm of consideration regarding it.
"It's just dancin.' Sexy dancing, but dancing, nonetheless,'" Angel mumbled, crossing a pair of arms over his abdomen while crunching down on a half-melted chunk of ice. "What?" He snorted, a bitter extremity to his tone. "Am I that repulsive to you?"
And that made Husk's eyebrows launch up in shock. He wasn't fond of the insecurity that Angel harbored beneath layers and layers of alluring poise, and he was even less fond that he may have been the one to trigger it.
He spun around, eyes immediately gaging the wrinkles between Angel's scrunched up eyes; already there from his day's work, but accentuated by Husk having seemingly pissed him off.
"What the fuck are you talkin' about? You ain't repulsive."
The wrinkles dissipated quicker than he thought they would. "Then, why are you so dismissive everytime I invite ya?"
"I already told you," Husk reached across to towel up a ring of condensation left behind by Angel's glass. "It ain't my scene."
"That's it?" Angel squinted his eyes, donning a deadpan glare. "What kinda lame ass excuse is that? It ain't like I'm askin' you to a strip show. Val ain't even there half the time, if that's what you're worried about."
Husk had considered that matter the other times Angel had nagged him on the topic. The bartender didn't know what he would do if he was put in the same vicinity as that prick again; not after having a front row view of how he treated Angel firsthand when they'd all gone clubbing together.
There was one night Husk had brought up the subject of going after the overlord. Angel had advised him outright that he shouldn't ever try anything towards the moth demon for both of their safety, which Husk appreciated and respected. He knew that being stripped of his overlord status wouldn't sanction him a huge chance against Valentino, even with the angelic steel he'd stored away post-Extermination Day. Not to mention, he'd be digging himself out of mountains of shit with his own boss. That is, if he wasn't maimed first.
"Maybe I just don't wanna see a bunch of lowlifes drooling over you and shoving cash down your panties as an excuse to cop a feel," Husk leaned forward on his forearms.
"Why?" Angel raised an eyebrow, "Does that idea make you jealous?"
Husk rolled his eyes, not budging at the taunt. "No, but it does make me nauseous."
"That's the shots we did earlier," Angel smirked, a snooty glint reflecting off his gold tooth.
"I'm revoking your bar privileges," Husk leaned over and swiftly plucked Angel's glass out of his hands.
"Hey!" Angel pouted.
Husk threw back the remaining swig of alcohol from the glass and clinked it back down. Angel's eyes went wide and Husk tried not to note the tint of pink that ghosted his cheeks. Though, it could have very well been the neon glow from his lower sets of eyes, seeing as Husk had no idea what he had to be blushing about.
"Look," Husk returned to his casual stance, leaning on the counter once more. "It just pisses me off seein' fuckers like them fawn over someone you're not."
"Someone I'm not?" Angel appeared taken aback — mildly offended, even. "Like you would know."
"You've forced me to watch three of your films," Husk scoffed. "You were a cornball in all of 'em."
"That's not— Husk. That's completely different."
"Is it?" He really couldn't understand how it was anything but the same.
"Yes!" There was frustration laced in his tone and Husk could recognize when he'd overstepped with the unwarranted criticism.
"Wrong choice of wording, then," Husk surrendered. "You know I ain't a fan of people treatin' you like you ain't got the biggest heart of gold out of any Sinner down here. All you are to those dicks is an object of desire that they go home to slap their saggy balls to, Angel."
"Shit-talker," Angel spat with absolutely zero animosity. Husk awed at how cutely he shied away at the statement, despite all of its vulgarity. He batted the thought away as quickly as it had arrived, not wanting to mentally touch on that subject.
Angel took a deep breath, only to release a sharp snicker and mimic Husk's pose, leaning forward on his own forearms, folded across the new, reflective countertops. "You sure know how to butter a guy up."
"It's what I'm here for, baby," Husk flashed his teeth. They'd been playing a coquettish game ever since the night of the extermination several months back. Though, he was unsure either of them knew whether or not it was actually a game anymore.
Angel peered at him softly before dropping his gaze to his cellphone. Husk was attracted to the hypnotic way the spider demon traced the heart-shaped patterns on the back of the acrylic casing with his gentle claws. "I know I complain about work a lot. And so much of it sucks tits, but there are aspects about it I still enjoy." The actor's eyes chanced a glance at him, though Husk's own eyes hadn't left the path of collision. "I love dancing. A lot. If I could quit everything else and make a livin' off of that, I would jump at it in a heartbeat."
Vulnerability wasn't rare between the two of them; not anymore. However, it didn't stop whatever heart that was left beneath Husk's sternum from warming everytime Angel confessed guilty pleasures, or grumbled out pet peeves, or giggled silly jokes at him. He'd spend the rest of his afterlife listening to Angel's syrupy voice ramble about nothing if he could help it.
"I'm surprised you don't talk about it more often."
"Unfortunately, I let my complaints outweigh some of the shit I actually dig about what I do," Angel huffed. "I dunno. It's just fun. I feel like I can actually be myself alone on a stage. It's easier to ignore the audience when they're not supposed to touch the merchandise."
"Merchandise," Husk scoffed. The word tasted sour in his mouth when coupled up with Angel's name.
"Yeah, yeah," Angel waved a hand. "Didn't think you'd be so overprotective."
"Some of us around here value you as a person, believe it or not," Husk smirked, flicking his tail gently against the floor.
"And you're included in that list?" Angel's shoulders did a tiny dance as he shimmied a centimeter closer.
"Mmm," Husk pretended to think about it long enough to draw an exuberant snort out of the other demon. "Maybe."
"Asshole," Angel propped a fist under his chin and eyed him through an air of relaxed fatigue.
"Maybe I'm at the top of it."
Angel hummed, eyes half-lidded and cozy with drunkenness.
Husk was grateful he was able to soften the edges Angel had stormed into the hotel with an hour earlier; when he'd been wearing his trauma like a suit of purposeless armor. The poor guy had arrived trembling, on the brink of angry tears. It wasn't unfamiliar during shared late nights, but it also never failed to make Husk's claws dig craters into the heart-shaped pads of his palms.
"So what's the entry fee like to one of The Angel Dust's shows?" Husk conceded. If he was gonna make Angel happy tonight, he was going to go all the way — until Angel was high on the frisky contentment that bounced between them, clutching to whatever urge might have remained in his mind to take to a line or a pill.
"The entry fee at the club I normally perform at is sixty," Angel perked up, some of the exhaustion in his face being replaced by a glittering excitement. "But I already grabbed you a pass."
Husk couldn't help his pupils from dilating, "You huh?"
"I grab all of you freaks passes but none of you 'sides Cherri ever wannna fuckin' show," Angel rolled his eyes.
That tugged something foul in the center of Husk's chest, "You mean you've asked everyone else?"
"Yeah, fuck. I genuinely do enjoy that shit. I thought it might be fun to have one of you there," Angel sat back and crossed his arms. "I've asked Charlie and Vags twice. Pen once before… you know." Husk nodded solemnly. "I've never bothered with Al and as enthusiastic as Niff seems about it, she seems to forget every time I suggest it."
"I'm…" Husk trailed off. How was he supposed to reply to that? Here they'd all been gushing about how close they had all become and none of them could even spend a night out appreciating Angel's talents. It churned worse in Husk's stomach when he realized it was something Angel actually delighted in and wasn't just trying to flaunt for the sake of the name he'd made. "Sorry."
"S'all good, honey," Angel assured with a half-smile. "I guess I get the repulsion, since grinding on a pole ain't exactly saintly. But it ain't as down and dirty as the BDSM club I dragged you to earlier this year or nothin.' Think of it as an art!"
"No, yeah. I'd just wish you'd said something sooner," Husk grumbled, the guilt not having left his chest.
"About?"
"Enjoying the dancing so much," Husk shrugged. "Us not givin' you the time of day."
"Hey," Angel rested his lithe fingers against his forearm. His ears twitched with intrigue. "It ain't that big a deal. You're always givin' up your nights for me, anyways. I know I can be overbearing about work. I don't exactly put a welcoming taste in other people's mouths unless they're sucking it off of me."
"It ain't like that. It shouldn't be. Not with us," Husk shook his head.
Not with me, he thought.
"No need to pout about it." Angel playfully stretched up and tugged lightly on Husk's ear. "Doesn't make me appreciate ya less. I'm just surprised you didn't notice the enthusiasm. You're usually oh-so perceptive when it comes to yours truly." The taller demon batted his eyelashes at him.
A warmth kindled beneath Husk's fur. "You're a brat."
"I know. Guys tell me all the time… right before spankin' me," he stuck his tongue out.
Husk pointed to his own tongue and pretended to gag, which received a hearty chuckle from Angel. He grinned in return.
The spider yawned, a tiny squeak emitting from the back of his throat, which he scrambled to cover up with the hand that wasn't still latched to Husk's forearm. "You tired?"
"It's two in the fucking morning. I'm exhausted! " Angel laughed behind another yawn.
"Let's go to bed, you menace," Husk patted the hand on top of his arm, noticing the mistake in his wording. "Er… I'll walk you up."
"A true gentleman," the smile Angel tossed him almost knocked Husk off his feet and he could have swooned, eyeing how uncharacteristically polite Angel looked as he stood up to wait for him on the other side of the bar.
The lanky spider opened his lower arm once Husk landed beside him. "Take my arm, darling!'"
Husk snorted, finding his antics nothing short of amusing, "Why?"
"How could ya possibly walk a doll like me upstairs if you won't even take my arm?" He threw a hand against his forehead in a display of dramatic flair.
Husk snaked his arm through the loop of Angel's and tossed him a gentle smile, "All yours, then." He didn't miss the way Angel bit his lip.
They headed for the stairs instead of the newly-installed elevator — maybe as an excuse to bask in each other's company just slightly longer — but Husk knew he wasn't going to willingly deprive himself of the way Angel practically dragged him up, giggling like a goofball. The nights where he could get Angel to crack a smile before dawn were always fulfilled.
They both stumbled in front of Angel's door, Husk attempting to match Angel's younger, longer strides.
"Well," Angel puffed out a light laugh, steadying Husk with a hand on his shoulder, "this is me."
"Is it? I don't recognize this door," Husk played along. "Someone else I should know about, sweetheart?"
That was straying into unmarked territory for him.
Angel beamed, "Nah, just you, short stack."
It was almost embarrassing how long they stood there grinning at each other, infestations of butterfly wings batting against their stomachs. Husk almost flashed back a hundred years to when he was a teenager, experiencing the sappy rush that arose in youthful passion for a first crush. This one ran far deeper than that of an inexperienced schoolboy, however.
"Ah, well," Angel broke the silence, finally unlinking their arms. "Goodnight, Husky." He twisted around to enter his bedroom.
"Wait, um," He didn't mean to make a demonstration of his flustered yearning by reaching out for his hand. "Tomorrow night. I'll come to your show, kid."
The fuschia in Angel's eyes glowed brightly, "Really?"
"Yeah, really. I wouldn't lie to you," Husk scratched his nose, forcing down another smirk.
"No, no. I know," Angel squeezed his hand. Husk prayed to Lucifer that he wouldn't notice the balminess. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Husk's voice rasped. "G'night."
"Night."
Fingers lingered before Husk slipped away. He slept with a smile, dreams accompanied by glints of gold and soul-tethering flashes of hot pink.
…………
Husk was determined to recruit their other friends to accompany him to Angel's show. As special as he would feel making it a one-man outing, he'd feel hyper-aware of how out of his element he'd look sitting amongst people assembling just to drool all over the star. Besides, he already felt minutely special for having been invited more times than the rest of the hotel party; with the added fact he was sure Angel would be grateful more than just Husk made an appearance.
There was a brewing offense he was taking on Angel's behalf that made his ear twitch in irritation every time he thought back to the night before. Angel had told him it wasn't a big deal, but to him, anything involving Angel was a big deal, which far from excluded the feelings that had been simmering in his old, wasted heart over the last few months.
Husk heard the elevator doors open up and he snagged the two head residents of the hotel, already making up their regular drinks.
"Charlie, can I speak with you two a moment?" Husk spoke roughly, his lips twisted into his typical frown.
"Yeah, of course," Charlie and Vaggie made their way to the bar. Charlie plopped down happily, where Vaggie stood at her side, crossing her arms impersonally. "What's going on? Need us to try a new drink?"
"No," he cut to the point. "Why have you been rejecting Angel's invites to his shows?"
"What?" Charlie asked, surprise etched on her face.
"Why have you? " Vaggie asked him pointedly, narrowing her eyes. "We already know he invites you to most of them."
A self-conscious heat glazed over his entire face. He docked their drinks in front of them.
His ears pinned back in defense, "I already know. I ain't right for it, either. I was under the assumption it was some raunchy shit show, not something he actually loved to do."
"And we were under the same impression, so cool it a little, will you?" Vaggie huffed.
Husk didn't always see eye to eye with the ex-angel. Her bossy, militant behavior always gave him a twitch in his eye, despite how grounding she could be on their more relaxed days. He thought she was far more pleasant to interact with after a couple of drinks, but he thought that about most people.
"Were you trying to suggest something, Husk?" Charlie politely pried.
"Yeah," Husk rubbed the back of his neck. "We should go to the one tonight."
"We should?" Charlie's voice dropped in the way that it did whenever she was unsure about something; like Alastor going around suggesting some absurd new idea for the hotel or her own father causing her frustration.
"I thought you would be a bit more enthusiastic about this," Husk scowled.
"It's not that I'm not on board for a night out supporting Angel!" She frantically waved her hands, "I just don't think he cares for it when I get involved in his work."
"That's different." It was the same rebuttal Angel had used last night. "Look, the way I see it is Angel doesn't want you comin' between him and the prick whose thumb he's under because he values his independence and hates evaluation he ain't ready to ask for. That's not the same as going to watch him perform a couple-a dances."
"Why not, then?" Vaggie uncrossed her arms and took the seat next to her partner.
"You're okay with it?" Charlie inquired.
"Yeah, aren't you?"
"Of course!" Charlie straightened up, patting her hands against her thighs. "If it's something he genuinely wants, I'm more than happy to attend. We should make it a group thing! I'll ask Al!"
"Ugh," Husk hunched over the counter, "Not him. He definitely won't enjoy it."
"Why?" Vaggie quirked the eyebrow uncovered by hair at him, "Isn't he big on entertainment?"
"Not of that nature," Husk guaranteed. "We could see if Niff wants to, but we sorta learned she ain't really club material a few months back."
Charlie and Vaggie shared a knowing grimace, as if they knew exactly what he was referring to. Husk refused to question it.
Another whoosh and ding of the elevator doors sounded off and Cherri stepped out. Husk turned his back to the counter to fix her up her own regular.
"Oi! What's with the stares, fuckheads?" The bomber approached and plopped herself to Vaggie's right, kicking her mismatched shoes up onto Husk's counter. He threw her a glare.
"Would you like to come to one of Angel's shows with us tonight?" Charlie tilted forward to grin at the pyromaniac.
"What? You dags are actually going?" Shock spread across her face. "What'd he do to convince ya? Poor guy's always whining to me about how you dills always turn 'im down."
Husk turned around and the three of them shared a look of mutual remorse. He handed over Cherri's cocktail, who took it and gulped most of it down in one go.
"What's the dress code for one of these things?" Vaggie shifted up in her stool.
"For one of Angel's shows?" Cherri scanned them. "Which dig's he performing at? Cloud 69?"
Husk nodded.
"Wear something hot and formal."
"Hot…? Like warm?" Vaggie's lip curled up.
"No, like sexy ," Cherri snickered. "Extra points if it's glittery or shiny." She slammed her glass down on the marbled counter. "Welp, I got no time to dick around with you any longer. I'm after some territory I've had my eye on for a while. See ya losers later!"
…………
Charlie had to sneak into her father's quarters just to find something fancy enough for Husk to wear. Since being stripped of his overlord status, he'd become a bit of a minimalist when it came to his attire. With how often he was ripped out of nowhere by Alastor to be at his beck and call, he didn't have the luxury of keeping many personal items.
He had on a silky blue dress shirt that he couldn't quite button over his chest, since Lucifer was still of smaller stature than him. It was tucked into a pair of white slacks, adorned with a silver button fly, which he already owned from his casino days. They almost never saw the light of day before.
He thought the two girls accompanying him cleaned up nicely. Charlie wore a black pantsuit, accompanied by a silver, sequined button-up underneath. Vaggie donned a garnet, off-the-shoulder dress that sparkled under every passing streetlamp and billboard.
Husk presented the bouncer at the front doors the VIP card Angel had slipped him that morning before work, hoping it'd work for the three of them. They were let in with ease and quickly spotted Cherri, who was wearing half of a tattered tux, and waving them over to her table.
"Beat the line out there, eh?" Cherri asked, as they sat down. "You're early, but it won't take long for this place to fill up."
The establishment was far nicer than Husk had envisioned it in his head. It resembled any formal nightclub pulled out of the 1950s, apart from the low-light neon and the pole centered on the small stage. Husk noticed that the mix of patrons who were pooling in weren't all what he expected either. Some of them were obvious riffraff, which he knew was inevitable, but others had the appearance of wealthy, snobby overlord-wannabes, or people who might just genuinely enjoy the art of Angel's sensual performances.
"Huh," Husk leaned back against their booth, as Cherri excitedly perked up in her seat at a waitress who served them plates of wings and nachos.
The imp took their drink order and vanished behind an onyx curtain.
"Oooh! I'm so excited," Charlie exclaimed in her place beside Husk. "I hope it makes him happy."
The corners of Husk's mouth turned up as he crunched into one of the cheese-battered chips.
"He better appreciate it," Husk joked. "It's not everyday I wear clothes stolen from the ruler of Hell himself."
"I told you, my dad won't mind," Charlie reassured him, waving a hand. "He never wears half of that stuff anyway.
It wasn't long before an announcer came out on stage to introduce the opening acts; two before Angel.
"Angel Dust will be on site shortly!" The incubus hyped up the crowd, which greeted him with a jumble of dignified claps and rowdy cheers. "In the meantime, enjoy the show!"
Husk was a bit surprised to find out Angel wasn't already there, and when he glanced over, Cherri's reaction indicated to him that she felt the same.
"That dickhead must be working him overtime," Cherri snarled.
"Will he be okay to perform?" Vaggie held a hint of worry in her tone.
"He always puts on a good fuckin' show," Cherri angrily bit into a chicken wing. "Doesn't matter how wiped he is. I'm more worried he won't show up at all."
Husk's stomach churned at the implications. He knew, based on Cherri's sudden switch from carefree to prickly, it must have happened before. Not that it took a genius to grasp why they were all worried.
He couldn't help the growl that rumbled low in his throat, even when the waitress returned with their drinks and he attempted to wash down the paranoia with bitter ale.
They sat through the opening performances in an air of unrest. Husk was all too aware of the way Charlie bounced her leg up and down underneath the table, especially when Vaggie made it obvious everytime she leaned over to steady it.
The rest of their food went left untouched. No one commented on the anxiety that they were passing around one another like a baton, insides racing with perturbation. The feeling that something wouldn't turn out right indisputably hung over each of them.
Once the second performer had ended, the announcer returned to the stage.
"Angel Dust has arrived, but we regret to inform you all that he has requested one of our in-house strippers take his place on stage tonight. An emergency has come up," the incubus sheepishly declared.
Husk's stomach dropped with the crowd, who began to murmur amongst themselves. A flash of fuschia peeked out from behind the wall of ebony curtains, only to disappear in an instant. Husk didn't know if anyone else had seen.
He jumped up out of his seat, "Let's go."
"But, shouldn't we wait—"
"No," Husk and Cherri said in unison.
"Angel won't be sticking around," Cherri's frowned.
The girls followed them out of the club, passing groups who seemed to be far less disappointed they weren't seeing Angel Dust put on a performance.
Husk led the group, sneaking into the alleyway around the corner and leaning up against the bricking next to the dressing room doors, where, as if on cue, a worn-out Angel emerged. His face was bloodied and his clothes were tattered. He looked much worse than Husk had seen him in a while.
His eyes widened when he met all of their stares, head and arms tucking into himself in shame. His mouth was slightly ajar, wanting to speak, but he snapped it shut when his bottom lip began to tremble. He limped off with no word, no evidence that he was even the least bit alright.
The group tailed him in silence, reluctant to grasp the right approach to the situation.
Cherri reached for his hand from behind and he flinched away.
"Cherri," he warned. His voice was thick as concrete, scraping against his throat.
"Right," She gently backed down. "I understand."
Angel was leading them back the direction of the hotel, and Husk couldn't wait to get there, because he wanted nothing more than to comfort Angel's woes and pain with a smooth glass of bourbon, if he'd permit him. There was a stiffness to his limp, and Husk paled knowing it wasn't just his legs that had been worn to the brink of uselessness today. There were heavy scratches and festering bruises across his back, the confirmation of teeth and claws branding nearly every inch. He wanted to offer him a brush of comfort, douse the pain in the eyes turned away from all of them with sweet words and mediocre alcohol.
"Angel?" Charlie spoke, and Husk cringed. He knew now wasn't the time for her to speak up.
Husk scrutinized the taller demon's back with caution, watching each ripple of muscle tense up at Charlie's voice.
"What can we do to help?" She pressed, gingerly.
Angel spun around quickly, as if using the last shot of adrenaline he had remaining in his system to do so, "Don't need it! You can go back to the club and have a fun night. I'm fine over here." He gestured to his body, a perfect showcasing of the irony to his own words.
"Angel—" Charlie said again.
"Sweetie, don't," Vaggie cut in, resting her hand on her shoulder.
A brief moment of appreciation painted Angel's face before he twisted back around and began pressing forward once more. A grueling quietude doused over them the rest of the way home, balanced out only by the violent sounds of the Pentagram.
Husk was hopeful that as soon as the marquee was in sight, as soon as they stepped inside the comforts of the entry, that Angel would feel sheltered enough to open up. It was mere fantasizing, however. The spider demon trudged over to the elevator straight away and disappeared without so much as a look back.
His heart ached as the group all sauntered into the foyer and collapsed, drugged with melancholy over the turnout of events that night.
He didn't know how long he stood staring at the elevator doors, as if Angel was in any mood to come back down to appease any of their own sorrows. Cherri seemed to take notice of it.
"Might as well man the bar or hit the hay, pussycat. He isn't coming down," Cherri stretched her arms over her head.
"I know he ain't." Husk huffed. "I'm going up there!"
"No the fuck you're not," Cherri shot over. "Let him be. He wants to be alone."
"Bullshit," Husk snarled. "He hates being alone."
"Like you would know," There was an envious offense in Cherri's tone. "You ain't been friends with him as long as I have."
"Some observant friend you are," Husk narrowed his eyes with a calm resentfulness, not feeling up to turning their mutual relationship with Angel into a competition. "What? You just let a handful of pills babysit him every night he used to show up to your doorstep like this?"
"Like you're any better, drunk ass bastard!" Cherri looked one second away from shoving an explosive down his throat, though he noticed a flash of hurt in her eye. "Maybe pick up a book on the twelve steps to recovery next time you're suckling a bottle, ya prick!"
"Guys!" Charlie interrupted, half-growling. "That's not going to solve anything." She placed a hand on both of their shoulders, gently pushing them an inch apart. "Husk, maybe Cherri is right. He seemed pretty standoffish."
Husk rolled his eyes, "You fucks are so damn blind. I'm goin' up there."
"Husk," Charlie pleaded. "He'll come out when he's ready."
Those words were presumptuous, not dissimilar to ones she'd used in the past. But, she was right. The last thing he wanted to do was push Angel into lashing out when he'd already been so on edge. It wasn't always as simple as a song and a dance to help him coast through the night.
Cherri shot him a glare before bidding them a goodbye, probably off to blow something up. "I'm outta here. No one wait up."
Husk bore his teeth at her back as she exited the hotel. Charlie's hand slid from his shoulder to his hand.
"It's okay to care, Husk," she said. "Cherri's just… Cherri. You know? Overprotective and a little bit rash."
"Dunno what you're on about," Husk glowered, ignoring the counseling.
Charlie sighed, "It'll turn out okay. I believe in Angel. Don't you?"
Husk thought the answer was obvious, so he didn't confirm it with a verbal response. It didn't matter how much he believed in him, the worry would still stew his insides like the booze that thrashed his kidneys and liver everyday.
Charlie squeezed his hand before letting go, opening it instead to Vaggie. "Get some sleep, Husk. It'll be better tomorrow."
She didn't know that, but he wasn't about to play the pessimistic mean guy to her reassuring optimism.
The two of them disappeared into the elevator, leaving him alone in the lobby. There were distant sounds of the city that echoed up from the bottom of the hill and barely permeated the hotel's walls. The bar was noticeably far too empty, as was everything else, so he marched over and grabbed a barrel proof bottle of whiskey from the high shelf and took up a seat on the side of the counter he was less acquainted with.
He cranked it open and began to sip it warm, feeling drops of amber trace his chin before swiping it away with the back of his too-large paw. He groaned, flopping forward and resting his cheek against his arm. The hollow look embossed on Angel's face shot through his head as he rhythmically rolled the bottle cap back and forth.
Husk's brain strained to comprehend the reason he felt he cared more than the others, when logistically it was far from the truth. Maybe he was just selfish. How could he possibly care more than the best friend Angel had spent hundreds of grueling nights getting fucked up with, only to bond over crashing back down together? How could he measure his desire to help Angel to the princess's, whose entire soul revolved around the care she had for her friends?
The answer came to him in the skip of his heart rate and an enticing mental image of pale, cotton fur and eight neon eyes that beamed down at him. He sat up, claws threading the fur on his chest as he gasped for a breath that hadn't even escaped him.
Husk was well aware of how attractive Angel was. He knew he'd been suppressing feelings of longing and desire for several months now, but for love to cross his mind? He didn't think it possible in his current state.
He gulped down another mouthful of whiskey, easing the nerves that were set alight by his own realization. There was nothing to think — nothing to do — that would make it a bona fide feeling in his head, no matter how much alcohol he downed or how much his heart longed to argue.
An hour ticked by where he sat accompanied by the dimmed bar lights and another half-bottle of booze. His mind was flooded with options; harsh consequences and enchanting outcomes of what he could potentially do with his newfound recognition. It was almost too much at once, forcing him to push every thought and feeling into different corners of his brain and opt for a numbed, much more comfortable answer in the solace of liquor.
The numbness didn't last. The ding of the elevator yanked him out of his haze and he tilted his head to look in the direction the noise resounded.
Angel stepped out, freshly bathed and bandaged. He wore a black sweatshirt that barely clung to his shoulders, held up by the fluff that protruded from his chest, and draped delicately over a pair of pink pajama shorts. His slender legs were encompassed with stockings, as usual. A shudder ran up the cat's back.
Husk didn't know whether love made someone appear more beautiful or not. The lie he convinced himself of was that the heat in his face was definitely not from anything other than his excessive drinking.
The spider made eye contact with him, and for a moment Husk thought Angel might retreat back upstairs.
"You're awake," Angel stated obviously.
Husk didn't reply, continuing to, instead, gawk at the taller demon. Angel raised an eyebrow and moved towards him, his limp much more relaxed than earlier.
"You fine?" Angel sat down beside him.
He snapped his mouth shut, batting away the flustered fog in his head. "Yeah. Are you? "
"Baby, I'm always fine," he had that teasing lilt to his voice that had become so customary when trying to snuff out sincerity.
"Yeah," Husk replied carefully, "but are you okay?"
Angel shrugged.
"I always feel a little better when I'm back here," his voice was raw, deeper from overuse, but it tended to get like that whilst swapping words with Husk when late hours turned into early ones.
"I was…" Husk started and didn't finish. What brownie points was he going to receive if he told the other he wanted to go upstairs to be next to him an hour ago?
Angel's brows furrowed in bewilderment at Husk's atypical conduct of conversing. The spider turned his head to stare at nothing.
"Sorry for disappointing," he said.
It was Husk's turn to look confused, though Angel probably didn't notice, due to the staring contest he was having with the wall of bottles on the opposite side of the bar.
"Disappointing?"
"You all showed up for me," Angel exhaled, swaying forward to cup his face in his top pair of hands. "I coulda pushed through for you guys."
"Absolutely not," Husk spoke sternly, but not enough to put Angel off. "Angel, you ain't a disappointment. I would have marched up to drag you off that stage the moment I saw you slip up if Cherri didn't do it first."
A tiny, fond smile graced Angel's lips.
"I would have slipped up, too. Val's little one-on-one sesh fucked up my ass." Angel sighed again. "Literally."
Husk flinched, unable to face that specific horror, "Why did he even keep you overtime? Doesn't he benefit financially from your shows?"
"Not as much as he benefits from my suffering," the words were trying their best to appear light-hearted. "I dunno. He has a sixth sense for being able to tell when I'm happy about somethin.' Guess he felt the need to sabotage my good time."
Husk wanted to offer his typical words of comfort, but he had a hunch they wouldn't get through to the other in that moment.
"Bet you would have looked real pretty up there," he blurted out, internally smacking himself for his sudden case of stupefaction.
It shifted something in Angel's demeanor, though.
"Yeah?" Angel perked up and finally faced him again. "You been imagining things, handsome?"
"Huh?" The blush on his face had to be impossible to mask at this point. "No, it's just you."
Angel's mouth twisted, "What's just me?"
"Pretty," Husk murmured.
Angel barked out a surprised laugh, "How much you been drinkin,' short stack?"
"Not enough," Husk groaned whilst massaging the palms of his hands into his eyes.
"Well," Angel tugged the half-empty bottle away. "I'm revoking your bar privileges."
"Using my own tactics against me?" Husk narrowed his eyes at him. "That's pretty fuckin' low."
Angel lifted the crown of the bottle to his lips and made a display of slowly encompassing it. He leaned his head back and took down a few gulps, releasing a little moan with each one.
It nearly killed Husk.
"Drink it normally," he snatched the whiskey back. "Fucking hell."
Angel was laughing when he took his own swig of it and slammed it back down to the counter. The look Angel gave him was mischievous, all sorts of misbehavior coming across in the way he slowly bit his lip.
"Indirect kiss," Angel smirked, half-lidded and head propped up on one hand.
"S'cuse me?" Husk composed himself to comprehend what Angel was playing at.
"You've been doing it a lot lately — drinking out of the same thing as me," Angel flirted. "Just thought you should know that's what us pros call an 'indirect kiss.'"
"Pfft…" Husk rolled his eyes. "That's—"
"If you want a real one all you gotta do is ask."
Husk's ability to think stuttered and spewed like an old car engine on its last leg. His eyebrows scrunched up as all of his thoughts from earlier that night about his actions having consequences shot back to him. He hardly even realized Angel had continued talking, already having changed the subject.
"It ain't a biggie, anyhow. I really—"
"Can I?" Husk interrupted.
Angel stopped, a fuzzy gape of incertitude crossing his features, "Can you what?"
"Can I get a kiss?" Husk blushed, shoulders tensed up so tightly his wings held a feeble tremble.
Angel stared at him, thoughts seemingly vacant behind his eyes. Husk felt a self-consciousness sweep through him.
"Nevermind," Husk moved to stand. "It ain't important."
"Now hold the fuckin' phone," he snatched Husk's hand. "Who said your feelings ain't important?"
"Who said anything about feelings?" Husk spluttered.
"I did… just now, ya boozer," Angel put on a serious face. "You ain't fuckin' with me?"
"Angel. When have I ever fucked with you in that way?"
"You haven't!" Angel gestured to him. "Just… makin' sure."
"Look," Husk submitted, because he understood the hesitancy. The demon beside him had been drowned and violently wrung dry more times than he could even wrap his head around. "I'm not about to be the one who comes out and makes you uncomfortable, so just forget—"
Angel lurched forward and landed a modest peck on his half-open mouth, drawing away as quickly as he had arrived.
Angel blinked at him, bringing a set of fingers to his lips to gingerly feel the spot that hadn't even been touching Husk long enough to gather any warmth.
"That's it?" Husk asked, dazed and disoriented.
"No! I'm just testing the waters," Angel squawked defensively. "It's been a damn long time since I've kissed someone I actually like!"
"You like me?" It was possible that the drumming against his sternum could be heard from three rings below him.
"Holy shit," Angel stammered. "Shut up and get back in on this."
The reaction only confirmed Husk's suspicions, but he didn't have time to ponder on it before he was being grabbed by the silk of his button-up and pulled towards Angel. Lips landed on his own, aggressively this time.
Husk cupped Angel's face to steady the sloppiness of it, tilting slightly to get a better angle. Angel read him well — an exhibit of years of skill — and slowed, kissing closed-mouth and leisurely before flicking his tongue timidly against the seam of Husk's lips.
Husk allowed it, attempting to muffle self-doubts of his own rusty, unpracticed demonstration of intimacy. Mustering up as much confidence as the whiskey in his bloodstream allowed, he returned by slipping his own tongue into Angel's pretty mouth.
It drew a guttural sound out of the taller man that nearly went straight to Husk's groin.
Neither one of them slowed or quickened the pace, choosing to instead bask in the rhythmic haze of each other. Their breaths mingled, Husk's heady with oak and fermented vanilla, where Angel's held a note of spearmint toothpaste.
Angel seemed to act on instinct, knowing exactly when Husk no longer bore the stamina to continue, gently withdrawing so the two of them could refill their lungs with oxygen instead of their own puffs of intoxication. The clarity in Angel's eyes was reassuring, candied with a sweet craving for more of whatever inebriation they had just confronted together.
"You look hot," Angel swooned with an all-too-abrupt dopey grin. "Where've you been hiding getup like that?"
Husk laughed, slightly nervous and taken aback, "The king's closet, apparently."
"Oh-ho? Stealin' from the big man himself?" Angel's fingers stroked the fur on his chest, which sent a very visible tremble down Husk's spine. "Might need me in on Niff's bad boy infatuation if I'm gonna date you."
"Date me?" Husk teased, prompting Angel to go further.
"Yeah. Date you," Angel pouted. "What else did you think was gonna come out of the two of us hoarding feelings for each other like a couple of wild fucking animals?"
"Nothin,'" Husk allowed a toothy smile to envelope his face. "Just like the sound of it."
"Well, good," Angel smirked back. "Makes me a slightly lesser let-down after tonight."
"I'm sorry you didn't get to perform," Husk opened both of his palms so Angel could rest all of his hands in them. "But I gotta feelin' what I got out of tonight was a bit better."
…………
Husk jolted awake when a loud bang came from several stories above him. He groaned at the pain in his back and the weight on his chest, eyes fluttering open to gain his bearings. He blinked at the spider laid out on top of him, who seemed to have also been startled from his sleep by the way his face crinkled up adorably.
The whine Angel let out vibrated against him, "What's that fuckin' noise?"
Husk couldn't blame him for the grumpiness. They'd migrated to one of the sofas in the foyer and fallen asleep together. Husk felt confident enough to think that, apart from Angel's divine presence, it had been a horrible decision. His back felt like it had withstood Extermination Day all over again.
Another bang sounded out.
"Ugh!" Angel roughly propped himself up, earning a grunt from Husk.
"Easy there," Husk muttered, voice coated with lack of use.
"Oh," Angel blinked down at him. "G'morning."
"Mornin.'"
Angel tentatively reached up to comb Husk's hair with his fingers.
Another loud sound echoed down the walls, causing both of them to tense.
"Wanna go investigate what those little fuckers are doing?" Husk suggested. "My back is killin' me here."
"Ugh," Angel sat up. "I guess." He offered Husk a hand to help him rise.
Husk bent backwards, cracking his vertebrae to relieve some of the pain.
Angel held out a hand to him, the smile painting his lips sleepily, but no less genuine. Husk took hold of it and they ventured upstairs, following the sounds of what had become clear as construction noises.
Husk had yet to explore every floor of the newly built hotel, haven't having a need to. It took them a minute of hopping on and off of the elevator to find out exactly where it was coming from, but when they landed on the 18th floor, they recognized Vaggie's commanding tone coasting down the hallway.
Angel and Husk shared a look and continued towards where the noise was emanating. They arrived at a room Husk didn't even know existed, but it bore resemblance to a night lounge, a small stage jutting out of the back wall. Their friends wire skittering about trying to install a long cylinder of metal at the center of it.
"The fuck is this place?" Angel voiced the shared thought out loud.
Charlie's head turned. "Uwah! You're gonna ruin the surprise!"
"Surprise?" Husk lifted a brow. "We could hear your ruckus all the way down on the ground floor!"
"That's because Niffty," Vaggie gave the scurrying demon a pointed look, "Wouldn't stop murdering bugs with power tools!" She gestured to a wall that had sustained a gnarly beating.
"The hotel's shiny and new! Bugs shouldn't be here!" Niffty protested.
Angel's eyes locked on the object on stage, "Are you… installing a pole?"
"You weren't supposed to know until it was done," Charlie deflated. "But we thought it'd be nice for you to have a safer, more comfortable place to perform. It was Cherri's idea."
Cherri sat in one of the booths with her mismatched shoes propped up on the table. "It's no biggie. Ripped it out of one of the Vees' little clubs."
She threw a pointed look in Husk's direction that he thought may have been about their spat last night. Then, he came to the realization that Cherri had returned sometime in the night while he and Angel were cuddled up in the foyer.
His ear twitched and he looked away, suddenly becoming all too aware of their linked hands and the fact that no one had bothered to comment on it.
Angel trembled next to him and he jerked his eyes up to see that his face had become overcome with emotion and unshed tears.
"You guys didn't have to."
"Well, we wanted to," Vaggie placed her hands on her hips. "It only seemed fair after turning you down the past couple times."
"Thank you," Angel inhaled, composing himself. "I'm gonna fuckin' rock all your socks off! You ain't seen nothin' til you've seen this bitch dry-hump a pole!"
Vaggie scowled over at him, "Your choice of words is making me regret going through with this."
"He's right, though," Cherri shrugged.
"You've enabled him," Husk deadpanned. "He won't be coming down from that anytime soon."
"But I will have you guys coming at the sight of me up on that stage," Angel waggled his eyebrows.
"Ew," Charlie shuddered. "I really hope not."
Husk rolled his eyes, his chest filled with warmth as he eyed the playful banter between his friends. Out of all the scenarios that had flooded his brain in the last twenty-four hours, with his fingers threaded through Angel's, he couldn't help but conclude this was the best possible outcome.