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“So,” Mimzy says slowly, taking a long sip from her martini as she gives a hooded look towards Husk. “When’re ya gonna talk to Pinky there?”
Husk lets out a sigh through his nose, his eyebrow twitching each time one of Mimzy’s kicking feet knocks into the bar. It isn’t very surprising she’s trying to pry into him like this, but the bluntness catches him off guard for just a second before his frown deepens.
“What’s there to talk about?” he replies, keeping his voice low so the others in the lobby won’t hear the conversation. He spares a glance at Angel Dust, hanging off of Charlie’s shoulder and laughing about one thing or another with her and Lucifer. He forces himself not to let the infectious smile get to him as his eyes land back on Mimzy’s grinning face. He raises his eyebrows. “Quit looking at me like that.”
She just waves him off, leaning so far against the bar she’s almost out of her seat. “C’mon, I ain’t blind, Husker. I had a feelin’ ya weren’t just playin’ for one team, y’know.” She smirks, a devilish look in her eyes as she swirls the contents of her drink in her glass, leaning back. “But I mean, really? The porn star? Didn’t think ya were so shallow!”
Her squealing laughter makes Husk grimace, his ear twitching. “You don’t know him, don’t assume that’s all he is,” he hisses, trying to control how his tail fights to lash behind him.
Mimzy’s eyes widen a hair, surprised by his sudden outburst. She stops laughing. “Well, I–” She clears her throat, shaking her head. “You know I’m kiddin’, toots. I know my way around those streets, it ain’t easy.” Her smile softens enough that Husk lets himself untense a bit. “He should know he’s gotta tough guy like you lookin’ out for him.”
With a scoff, Husk leans against the bar, relaxing. “He knows,” he says simply, knowing Angel is smart enough to understand that. He didn’t have to go after him that night, didn’t have to relate to him on such a level that it made him want to just maybe be able to change Angel’s fate before he ended up like Husk. He didn’t have to care this much, but god damnit he does, and Angel’s a fucking moron if he doesn’t get it.
But Angel doesn’t know that Husk is helping him out of a burning in his heart.
And yet somehow, fucking Mimzy of all people has already figured it out. She doesn’t need to ask directly, they both know what she’s talking about. Husk isn’t just trying to protect Angel.
He won’t call it love, because that’s not what it is. It’s too soon, absolutely terrible timing, and maybe just a bit too much for Husk’s frail heart to handle. When you live your life afraid that someone is about to pull your leash away from whatever it is that you want, you learn not to want anything, just so it can’t be taken from you. Wanting Angel Dust is dangerous. But Husk is stupid enough to look the consequences of his actions in the face and say fuck you.
“Yeah, he knows, but he doesn’t know, hun,” Mimzy’s words break him from his thoughts and he looks down at her, tapping his fingers against the bar. “He should.”
Husk’s ears fall at just the idea of telling him. He can’t. Not now. Even when he glances at Angel, still talking to the others with a genuine smile—not that artificial bullshit he pulls to keep people away—it makes his gut swell almost unpleasantly. And fuck, if he doesn’t want to see that smile directed at him for the rest of their time in Hell.
God, he’s gone soft. Fuck him.
“Didn’t expect any sort of worthwhile advice coming from you,” he says, the sharp clink of a glass hitting the bartop a familiar sound that serves to relax him, if only a little, as he pours himself a drink. He fucking needs it, at this point.
Mimzy laughs again, this time loud enough that it turns the heads of a couple people in the lobby. None of them come to investigate, thank god, but Mimzy lowers her voice all the same. At least she has the awareness to do that.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘worthwhile,’ Husker,” she says with a snort, putting down her empty glass and tapping the side of it with a look. Husk rolls his eyes but figures he’d rather not learn the consequences of not doing his job and gets her another drink. “Just speakin’ from experience, guys like to know when you’re into ‘em. Even if they don’t like ya back, it’s a little ego boost for them.” She giggles, adjusting the straps of her dress and pushing up her chest. “‘Course, I’ve never been into the fruity ones, couldn’t tell ya if it works the same.”
With a bit more force than necessary, he places her drink down onto the bar. Mimzy takes it without batting an eye. “Yeah, well, I doubt he needs an ego boost. In fact, I’m pretty sure he kinda trusts me, stupid as it is. Would be shitty if I came onto him after all the shit he’s been through.”
Mimzy blinks at him, setting her martini down. “Husker, babes,” she coos, condescending enough for him to grit his teeth. “Didn’t ya say he came onto you first? It’s hard to blame ya if you’re only following his lead.”
“That–” Husk growls, looking away. “That was before he opened up. He’s toned down since then, and I don’t want him to get the wrong impression, or think I’m like those sleazes that just want him for sex.” He turns up his nose, his fists clenching. Mimzy hums, watching him carefully.
“If ya think he trusts you,” she tells him slowly, drumming her fingers against the bar, “Then he’d prolly know that already, don’tcha think?”
“I ain’t riskin’ that, Mimzy, you know that I–”
“You two havin’ fun over here without me?” Angel Dust jumps in, making Husk momentarily freeze, wondering how much of the conversation he’d heard.
He opens his mouth to answer, but Mimzy flashes Husk a smile before smoothly saying, “Oh, Angel, honey, so glad you could join us! C’mon, take a seat. Husker’ll get ya somethin’ to drink. On him, I’m sure, yeah?”
Husk is going to murder her. He resigns himself to his fate, narrowing his eyes at Mimzy before grabbing a cocktail glass. It isn’t that he’s against paying for Angel—honestly, he doesn’t mind at all. He’d probably buy all of Angel’s drinks if he asked. He’s pissed that Mimzy is offering people shit with his money. But he tries not to make a fuss, because it’s not that bad. At least Mimzy hasn’t said anything. Yet.
It’s been a long time since Husk has felt this way about anyone– Hell, this might be the first time since he was living. He never married back when he was alive, but he’d fallen in love. If the laws had been different, maybe he’d have had a husband at one point. Not that it mattered, none of anything that happened up there really lasted. And being in hell, romance is kinda the last thing on anyone’s mind. Sex, maybe, but love? It’s too shitty down here to worry about something soft like kissing and cuddling. But with little to do at the hotel but think about that kinda stuff, it’s made Husk’s resolve pitifully weak. It doesn’t help that he’s living with an unfairly cute demon a floor down.
And Mimzy? Alastor’s kept her around longer than he’s owned Husk’s soul. They might not get along great, but there’s something kind of nice about seeing a familiar face that doesn’t want to kill him or use him for personal gain, even if she’s an annoyance at the best of times. She isn’t the ideal wingwoman by a long shot, but he decides if it came down to it, he’d probably prefer her knowing over anyone else.
“We were just talkin’ about how Husker here hasn’t gotten laid since the 90’s!” Mimzy says, elbowing Angel Dust as he sits down. Husk feels heat creep beneath his fur, his wings fluttering subtly as he bites down a noise of agitation. Great, really wonderful excuse, Mimzy.
“Shit, really?” Angel laughs, glancing at Husk. “Who knew. No wonder he’s always so on edge, ey?”
“You’re tellin’ me, hun,” Mimzy giggles. “Prolly ain’t got the stamina anymore, ol’ geezer.”
Husk doesn’t take part in the conversation. He grabs a rag, busying himself with cleaning off the already clean glasses, just to keep himself out of it.
Angel Dust leans his weight onto the counter, raising his eyebrows at Mimzy. “An’ you do? Ain’t you older than Alastor?”
Covering his mouth to keep from laughing, Husk watches Mimzy’s face drop. She doesn’t look mad, but suddenly she isn’t nearly as entertained as she previously was. She lets out a soft scoff, pushing up on her bra again as she stands up from her seat, just a bit wobbly.
“I’ll leave you boys to it,” she tells them, playing it off. “I wanted to talk to Alastor anyway.” She crosses her arms, beginning to walk off. But she turns back, sending Husk a wink when Angel isn’t looking, and he realizes she was just using that as an excuse to let him have a moment alone. Husk wants to roll his eyes, but he controls himself, just barely, and looks back at Angel Dust.
“Well, can I get you a drink?” he says sardonically, hoping to keep the awkwardness from his tone. “On the house, apparently.”
That seems to make Angel perk right up. “If you’re payin’, how could I say no?”
Chuckling, Husk works on finishing the drink he’d started earlier before getting distracted. “Hell no,” he says while pouring in the fruitiest cocktail mix he can find. “I’ll just sneak it onto Alastor’s tab.”
“He drinks?” Angel asks, surprised. Husk finds himself not minding Angel’s eyes on him as he makes his drink, a sort of welcomed weight that falls on him. It isn’t the first time he’s noticed it, but it’s distracting enough to pull his thoughts to momentarily. “Didn’t take him for the type to be racking up money at this typa establishment.”
With a scoff, Husk slides over Angel’s cocktail. “‘Establishment,’” he mutters, shaking his head. “Nah, he pays for Niffty.”
“Really?” Angel takes a long sip of the drink, his eyes lighting up. “Holy shit, that’s good. But the fuck’s she gettin’? Shirley Temples?”
Husk huffs out a chuckle, grabbing the washcloth to start wiping down the bar. “She usually just takes a bottle of vodka off the shelves when she thinks I’m not looking.”
Angel laughs softly, shaking his head, soft hair falling over his eyes with the movement. Husk has to nearly physically restrain himself from reaching across the bar and brushing it out of his eyes. He bites his lip, cursing himself internally while Angel continues as if nothing had happened.
“So,” he says, grinning wide as he swirls his drink around his glass. “She serious about you not gettin’ laid?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Husk grumbles, wanting to combust. He grimaces, pretending there’s a rather stubborn stain on the counter to give himself a moment to think. “You think there’s a lotta action to be had when you’re stuck on a leash?”
“Hey, some people are into that kinda thing. ‘Sides, the fuck you think I do all day?” Angel points out, raising his eyebrows. He chuckles at Husk’s lack of amusement. “But there ain’t nothing wrong with it, not everybody likes that shit.” His smile is wide, but not mockingly so. Almost like he’s trying to console Husk, in a strange way. Husk has never felt shameful for not being very interested in sex. But Angel still manages to make him feel just a bit better about it.
He tries to give a softer smile back. “Comin’ from a porn star, that means a lot,” he quips, the ease of the conversation making him relax a bit.
Husk wouldn’t call himself a very funny person. It takes a good sense of humor to make someone funny, and he decisively does not have that. And yet, Angel lets out a surprising snort, covering his mouth to hold back short giggles that evolve into a full laugh once Husk starts chuckling with him. There’s nothing fake about the way he laughs, it isn’t beautiful or picturescue or false, it’s something that seeps with feeling and happiness and Husk is completely infected by it. He’s caught in the spider’s web, or whatever, entirely wrapped up in Angel’s everything.
He can’t wait anymore. His chest swells and sweeps him up in his feelings, drowning out reality as everything around him melts except for Angel’s pretty face smiling down at him like that. He lets it get the better of him, blurting before he can’t stop himself, “You’re amazing.”
It makes Angel Dust stop for a moment, his smile slipping. “Hah! Obviously,” he says with a fake bravado, fluffing his hair before letting his gaze fall back to Husk. “Uh, what for, though?”
Ah fuck, is he really doing this? Husk knows he’s an idiot, but god damn if this demon doesn’t bring out the dumbest shit in him. He grabs a glass, pouring himself a shot of bourbon. If he’s doing this, he’s gonna need it.
He scratches his cheek, hoping beyond hope he makes it through this. “Well, I wanted to…talk. About something. With– With you,” he says smoothly, coasting cleanly through this conversation without any strange looks from Angel. He sighs into his cup, giving up on trying to play it cool. His wings fall at his sides and he downs the alcohol, the warm burn down his throat doing nothing for his nerves. Here goes nothing.
“I got something I need to tell you.”
“No, ya don’t.”
Husk freezes. “What?”
With a puff of air that blows his hair out of his face, Angel leans down. “I said, ya don’t got anything to tell me.”
“But I–”
“Husk,” Angel repeats, louder. “Please. I can’t do this right now.”
There’s something in Angel’s words that makes Husk’s blood boil. Not at Angel, but at those who have hurt him enough for him to leave his walls so high up, even after everything they’ve been through together. Fuck Husk being nervous, this is something Angel needs to hear right now.
“You can,” he says with enough confidence that it surprises him. He keeps going. “Angel, let me talk. You deserve to know. You deserve–”
“Husky, c’mon,” Angel huffs, standing up and turning his back to him with a nervous laugh. “I’ve done a lotta bad shit, I ain’t deservin’ of anything. ‘Specially not– Not this.”
Husk watches as he tries to fall back, tries to run away and leave him. He quickly moves around the bar and reaches out on impulse, big, clawed hands wrapping around lithe ones. Both have plenty of blood on them, but he doesn’t care about all that. Angel doesn’t pull away, just looks at him with such a genuine emotion that Husk doesn’t even know what to call it.
His breath catches in his throat for a moment, voice stuck and wheezing past his windpipe before he sucks it in slowly and speaks. “It’s hell, kid,” he says slowly, as though scared of chasing him off for good. “There ain’t a good person down here. Well, except maybe Charlie.” He shakes his head. “Point being, we all got a lot of shit in our pasts. You’re not very special there.”
Angel opens his mouth to say something, most definitely argue with Husk, but he clamps a hand over the other’s mouth before he can interrupt.
“I’m not done,” he continues more quickly. “What I’m saying is, I don’t care about that. None of it really matters. What does matter is that you…you’re trying. You’re in hell for Christ’s sake, but you’re trying to– to be a better person. And that takes some huge balls.” He sputters over his words, letting them fall from his lips unfiltered. He needs to get this out. His feelings will explode in his chest if he doesn’t let them escape.
“So, yeah. You might be a shitty person right now. But you’re trying to fix it, and that’s gotta count for something. More than something, really. You don’t gotta be clean for however long or swear not to fuck in order to be a good guy. You just…gotta try.” He glances up for the first time, meeting Angel’s eyes. It immediately sends heat to his face and he stares back at the ground. “Least, that’s how I see it. I could be wrong, but…”
“Husk…” Angel says, barely above a whisper, and Husk can’t take it any more. It has to be now.
“Angel, you… Fuck, I’m bad at this kinda stuff.” He takes a deep breath. “You deserve more than you give yourself credit for. Hell, I’d argue you deserve the world, as fucking cheesy as it is.” Huffing out a laugh, Husk stops beating around the bush and stares up into Angel’s gaze. He closes his hands around his, holding tight. “…I’m weak, y’know? The world, it’s pretty fucking big. I can’t give that to you. But I…I wanna give you the biggest goddamn chunk of rock I’m able to carry.” He winces, feeling his heart bleeding from his chest. “If you, uh, want…that.”
For an agonizing moment, Angel just stares at him, unblinking. Husk knows he’s fucked up, he’s done a lot of stupid shit in his life and he just added another to the list. He looks at the ground, his wings falling at his sides. He tries to keep himself from letting it sting, he knew this was going to happen but he just had to say something. It hurt too much for Angel to think he wasn’t deserving of someone caring so deeply, and he messed everything up. At least it’s better sooner rather than later, he can get over it faster and everything can go back to normal.
“Husk,” he finally says, and his gaze snaps to him whether he wants it to or not. “You’re the biggest fuckin’ moron I think I’ve ever known.”
Husk’s face falls. Ouch. He means, he already knew that, but for Angel to rub it in–
Without giving him time to think, Angel grabs Husk by his stupid suspenders and hauls him forward into a kiss. His ears shoot up in surprise as Angel’s mouth meets his. It’s by no means soft, a mix of tongue and teeth that occasionally knick Husk’s lip, but he couldn’t give a fuck. He lets out a sound embarrassingly close to a purr, wrapping his arms around Angel’s waist after he gains his bearings, heart trying to thump out of his chest.
He pulls away for air briefly, his tail swaying contently behind him. “Wh…” Husk breathes out in shock, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as a bright fire ignites beneath his fur. “What the fuck?”
Angel Dust doesn’t give him time to rationalize it or overthink, pulling him right back in with a set of arms around his neck and waist. Not that Husk is complaining, he’s been craving this for weeks. He sinks into it, keeping Angel close as though scared that if he relaxes his hold, he’ll melt away and it will all have just been his imagination.
After forever and yet not long enough, they separate again, this time for Angel to kiss Husk right on the tip of his nose, such a soft thing for how intimate the moment feels to Husk.
“I’ve been flirtin’ with you for, like, months,” Angel says, and it takes Husk’s mind a reeling second to remember he asked a question. “How the fuck do you think I was gonna reject ya?”
“I, uh,” Husk sputters, his brain smooshed full of happy chemicals that make thinking just a little bit difficult after the amount of nerves thrumming through him. “You do that with everyone, I kinda thought…” He trails off, feeling dumb now that everything is up in the air.
Angel looks almost disappointed. “What, that ya weren’t special?” Husk looks away. “I was waitin’ for you to feel comfortable, dumbass! That whole blowout made me think ya weren’t interested an’ I didn’t wanna push anything–”
“Fucking hell,” Husk grumbles, realizing just how dumb they were being. Did anyone else even notice? Was Mimzy seriously the first to see it? That’s kinda sad, if he thinks about it.
“Hey! Ya didn’t exactly give me clear signals, Husky.”
“You didn’t either!”
“Yes I fuckin’ did!”
Angel lets out a frustrated sigh, throwing one set of arms up in the air exasperatedly, though the tiny smile that pulls at his lips leaves no room for doubt that he isn’t truly mad. Maybe annoyed at their shared idiocy or the circumstance as a whole, but not at Husk specifically, something that makes Husk’s shoulders fall. He runs a hand down his face, snagging his hat by the brim and pulling it off his head.
“So,” he says, trying to find the right words. His mind spirals in a whirlwind of confusion and maybe a flutter of true excitement, clouding his already muddled thoughts, the buzz of alcohol ever present. “What’s this mean for us?”
Leveling him with a stare, Angel points at him. “I’ll tell ya what it don’t mean,” he says. “I ain’t quittin’ my day job.”
A pause. “Why the fuck would you?” Husk laughs in surprise, a puzzled look on his face.
Angel just shrugs. “I dunno, I’m sleepin’ around with other guys?”
Husk lets out a sigh, hesitantly reaching a hand out to grab Angel’s. This is new territory for both of them down here, and he can’t deny that he’s nervous about it. “That’s your job, Angel. I don’t give a fuck, so long as you don’t care for ‘em like that.”
A scoff. “Ya think Valentino knows how to pick guys I’d like?”
It makes him crack a smile. “Guess not.”
“Nah. Trust me, Husky, if you’d shown up on set instead of one of those shithead himbos, I’d enjoy my job a lot more.” He tops it off with an exaggerated wink, though Husk already gets the message loud and clear. “Yeesh, maybe you’d’ve gotten some action by now if ya had.”
Husk’s fur prickles with heat as he whaps Angel’s arm with his hat, though not enough to hurt him. He could never hurt Angel. He just laughs at him, reaching down to pinch his cheek and coo like he’s a child while Husk grimaces, swatting him away. “Hey, watch the whiskers,” he grumbles, though it’s halfhearted at best, and it’s clear Angel can tell. His smile never falters. “Besides, you think I’m desperate enough to sleep with just any dramatic twink?”
With a loud gasp, Angel places a hand against his heart. “Tha’s a pretty low blow there, Husky,” he says with a fake pout that dissolves in mere seconds. “Ya think I’m just any twink?”
There’s a heat in Husk’s eyes when he replies, “Not anymore.”
He can only grin when Angel grabs him by the hand, nearly pulling his arm out of his socket in his eagerness to drag him across the hotel. There’s a warm, rolling fire in his gut, carving out his stomach like anxiety, but it has a sweet flare to it that makes Husk suddenly not hate his predicament all that much. The opposite, in fact.
“C’mon, then,” Angel says, flashing him a shit eating grin. “You got some makin’ up to do.”
For all of Angel’s terrible flirting and shitty sex jokes, he can’t find it in himself to be disappointed, or want to pull away. He finds himself wanting to pursue this, as out of character as it feels for him. He lets his stewing thoughts be, trying to live in the moment.
“Well,” Husk replies with a laugh, “Can’t argue with that.”