Archive of Our Own

Angel was strong. He knew that. He was brave, fierce, even a bit cunning at times. Hell, he's killed Exterminators with just a tommy gun and his bare fists! He knew his worth, he could see it now more than ever. Husk told him all these things before he left Thursday morning, giving him the strongest drink and the most encouraging smile he could whip up.

"I believe in you, Anthony. Everyone here does. You're stronger than this, and you're better than him. Know your worth, embrace who you are."

But did Angel truly believe it? Could he really face Valentino after this beautiful, freeing break? Did he have the strength to push him away, to say no? He knew Valentino only gave him poison, trapping him like a spider in an intricate web with few to no loopholes to escape from.

But what truly terrified him? Val finding out about Husk, without a doubt. It's not like he hasn't had a "boyfriend" while being under Val's name, but the overlord was jealous with a fiery temper- Angel knew this with an engraving on his soul, he had been at the wrath of it countless times before. What if he feels threatened by Husk? What if he notices something different about me? I can't let that happen.

Life has been so, so sweet. Well, the twenty four hours he and Husk had been "dating" were. Dating? That felt like a weird word. They agreed on no labels, at least not yet. Angel couldn't be mad about it, especially with Alastor's presence lurking around the hotel. Was Alastor like Valentino- would he be jealous of Husk being with someone? Being happy? The questions swirled around in his brain as he made the all too familiar trek from the Hotel to the studio. Too much time to think.

The instant he opened the doors to the technicolor dungeon, he felt the walls stumble back into place on his heart. The sultry pink lights, the looming director's chair- it felt so natural. But in the worst fucking way possible, Angel recounted bitterly.

"Our star has finally arrived!" Valentino said, whipping around, coat forming a cocoon around him. He held out his arms, awaiting an embrace. "How we've missed you here!"

"Hey, Val," Angel bared his teeth, but he didn't smile. Oddly, the voice didn't scare him anymore. Husk's voice was louder. 'You can do this, Tony'.

Tony. He had called him that this morning. It was new, but not in a bad way. Husk was gentle in the way he beckoned Angel. He's different, sweet. He's a gentleman. It's weird. 

Val curled an eyebrow from under his heart shaped sunglasses. "What kind of a greeting is that? Are you not happy to see me, amorcito?"

"Sorry, Val, just tired," Angel croaked, shaking off the scarf he wrapped around himself earlier. He let it drop to the floor, trying to ignore the looks the various other actors and staff were throwing his way. They all knew something was different. By God! Angel Dust looked competent for once in his miserable afterlife! Val looked him up and down. How can he detect when Angel is feeling anything other than mania or misery like a damn bloodhound?

"Well, you better look alive! We have a busy day to start you back off! Now go to hair and makeup, rapidamente!" Val snapped his fingers and pointed. Angel huffed out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

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Angel wondered what the record was for how quickly Val can make his employees cry and beg for double death. Because he'd be damned if he didn't just beat it.

By his first break at twelve thirty, Angel was sore, shaking, and banging his head against the wall of his dressing room. Fuck, I wanna call Husk, Cherri, Charlie- anyone. But he knew he couldn't without the VoxTech cameras in his room picking up on something. Staying clean through it all was the hardest, but he was doing it. He imagined Husk's hands on his shoulders, encouraging him that he could do it. Redemption is around the corner! Charlie would have exclaimed if she saw him now. But a part of Angel, maybe a self-indulgent part, thought he had already achieved it. That's at least what it felt like.

"Back on in ten, amorcito~!" Val called through the cracks in his door.

And Angel made each one of those scenes his bitch, as Cherri would say. He felt proud of himself as he rewatched himself on the director's camera- he felt pretty, and not in his overly confident, buffoonish way. Like maybe there was some worth in what he was doing, some substance and actual talent in his acting.

But it wasn't enough for Val. It was never enough.

During his break during the afternoon, when Angel was touching up his makeup in front of his mirror, Val burst in. "Let's talk~" He purred, shutting the door behind him.

Fuck. Angel dropped the mascara in his hand and watched him from the mirror. "What's the matter? I thought I was doin' good today."

Val paced the room coolly, adjusting his feathery top hat. "Oh, you are! You've been just stunning, amor! That's not where I take issue."

Angel felt a tack in his gut, swallowing down the nerves as best as he could. He picked the mascara up and applied some more, adjusting his hair with another hand. "What's the problem then, mista-"

"My problem-" Val was suddenly right behind him, breathing in a lungful of that sickeningly sweet smoke. "-is you being gone. You're out of practice. Not with your acting- but your attitude. Nothing is the same as it was when you were living here, on the clock full time. What does that do for me, hm? Do you know?"

Me not being a junkie anymore is bad for buisiness, ain't it, mista Valentino? Angel fidgeted with his lower hands out of Val's sight. "I don't get what you mean-"

"I want you to move back in, baby!" Val announced through his teeth, taking the mascara from Angel's hands and tossing it behind them, glaring at him with a foul grin in the mirror. Angel felt his blood run cold.

"Fuck do you mean?"

Valentino's face contorted back into something sinister. "I want you to move back in! I miss you here- Vox and Vel do too!" Likely fuckin' story, Vox puts cameras in every place I enter and Velvette can't keep her opinions about my body to herself.

The room felt as if it were shrinking, the walls leaning in like a circus on acid. The air was dry and sticky, impossible to efficiently take in and out. Val's shadowy eyes bore into him, awaiting his favorite toy to nod his head and say, 'Yes, Valentino'.

But Angel was not his little star anymore.

"No, Val. I'm not gonna do that." The phrase 'no' and 'Val' clogged up his throat with an inescapable shiver.

There was a deafening silence, and then an ice cold chuckle. "I'm sorry, the fuck did you just say?"

Angel whipped around, hands bracing himself on the vanity. "I told you no, Valentino. I don' live with you anymore, you can't force me too. I will not be moving back in with you." Angel heard the shuffling of objects falling off the vanity before he felt his back slam into it. A sharp pain exploded up his spine, making him wince. But despite his shaking knees, despite his chattering teeth, he didn't let himself fall.

"You selfish bitch! You think you can just say no to me- after everything I've done for you?" Val shoved him again, words spitting like venom in his face. Angel could recognize his voice being quieter than usual. Something was off. Fear crawled up his neck as Val shoved again.

"Val- quit it! Nothin' you do can make me change my mind!" Angel dodged Val's hands, leading more objects to tumble off and fall onto the carpet. "Leave me the fuck alone." Angel spat, his voice struggling to remain even.

I'm not afraid of him anymore. A lie. He can't hurt me anymore. A lie. Husk can save me, just like he always does. Not yet.

The anger continued to boil on Val's face, distorting and full of vile hate. His fists balled up. "You fucking- what makes you think- who do you think you are?!" He shrieked, pounding a fist against the glass mirror. It hit the wall, sending a haunting echo through the building and Angel's bones.

Angel stood up to his fullest height, chest heaving. "Anthony, and I'm done with you thinking you can dictate every aspect of my life. Face it, Valentino," Angel stretched his spine up as far as he could go, narrowing his eyes until he saw Val through blurry slits. "You. Don't own. All of me-"

A sharp pain to the face and Angel was down. He wasn't even surprised, hell, he anticipated it. The blood sloshed around in his ears, but he registered he was being screamed at. His contract was pushed into his face, and the floor flooded with the pink smoke. He coughed, but the air was stuck in his throat.

Angel welcomed the eerily peaceful dissociation that came as a side effect of the pink vapor. He allowed his eyes to cross, the contract in front of him blurring into multiple. He barely recognized the name on the dotted line- Anthony, with a star attached to the 'A'.

A star. That's what he always aspired to be, an A-list actor in those big fancy movies with no color that he and Molly would watch. He tried in life, but with his reputation as the son of the biggest Mafia boss in Jersey, along with being a junkie and obviously gay, he never achieved that dream. The only thing Earth offered him in that department? Performing in clubs for men who tried to convince themselves they weren't gay.

When he first got to Hell, he really did try. He auditioned, prettied himself up real nice for the directors, but every time, they told him the same thing: 'You just aren't what we're looking for. Maybe tone down the accent? You're playing this more flirty than what we intended. You're too skinny, too wide here and there. Spider demons just ain't as attractive as wolves.'

Angel shuddered, remembering the times where he wondered what went wrong. He couldn't swallow his accent and way of movement no matter how hard he tried. He taped his legs to make them look skinnier, sucked in his stomach and pushed fluff up. None of it worked. Men on the streets started liking his charms, and Angel would be damned if he lied and said he didn't like it- feeling beautiful.

Angel blearily looked up at the man still shouting at him-

"You dumb bitch! Answer me! Do you think you're better than me now? Do you feel strong when she's not here to fight your battles for you? Huh, Charlie's little divine disappointment?-"

-and remembered the times when Val promised him stardom. When he took him by the hand and told him he loved him- or, more like 'Love what you've got, amorcito~'. Those times felt like a lifetime ago, when everything was simpler and he was naive, more docile, more prone to let the poison soak through him to his core.

Then, it all went silent. Val was heaving so hard Angel thought he would pass out. It wasn't hard to blow through the smoke and side up, back resting against the bottom of the vanity. Val's eyes bore into him like hot coals, but Angel didn't flinch. The overlord's eyes softened as he slowly brought his pipe up and took another drag.

"This was your fault," He muttered slowly. "You make me like this. Your attitude really needs to change, Angel." Angel bit his tongue, glaring daggers at him. Val clicked his tongue, kneeling down in front of him. "Don't be that way, you know I love you-"

"Don't say that to me," Angel croaked, emotion welling up in his throat. "You can't convince me this is what love is. You did that for nearly five decades. I don't believe you anymore."

Val's face spasmed again. "Shut your-"

"No." Angel couldn't stop the tears, but he didn't try to. He let them fall, let them make a mess of his face because he knew how much it would piss Val off. He knew he could get the better of him by letting his true self come through. Angel rubbed his eyes roughly- defiantly. "I'm done being quiet for you. You don't deserve me, do you know how much I'm fucking worth?" Grabbing onto the vanity with all four hands, Angel stood up on sea-sick legs. Val still towered over him, a blender of emotions on his face. Suddenly, his eyes welled.

"What happened to us, Angel? We used to be so perfect- unstoppable!" He lamented.

Oh God, how Angel wanted to give in, to play the part. He wanted to get Val to his knees, begging for him back, the way he would give in everytime. Angel's heart begged him to believe it- that Val could love him again.

But he can't. This is not real.

"I don't love you, Val." Angel stated. And he fucking meant it this time.

The moth's chest swelled, the beautiful emotion being whisked away as fast as it came. "You will after all I've done for you-" He lifted his hand, preparing for a swift hit, but Angel knew it was coming. He caught his arm just as he did at the club those few months ago.

"No! I will never, ever love you- never again. I never even want to see you again!" Angel spat the words, throwing Val's arm off to the side.

The tension in the air was humid, silence filled by heaving breathing and grinding of teeth. The overlord standing over him was hunched in on himself, shaking with something Angel didn't quite understand. His hands had stopped shaking, finally, but he braced himself still. Finally, Val pointed towards the door.

"Leave. Leave this instant," He said, voice low. The tension in Angel's back snapped. What?

"Why?" Angel choked.

"Leave!" Valentino roared, slamming a fist down right next to where Angel's top left hand rested. He winced aggressively, a headache forming at the base of his skull.

Angel remembered the time he loved the figure in front of him. Maybe it was never truly love, maybe it was his fame-hungry and validation-seeking younger self gripping onto whoever would give him a shot with an iron claw. That love was gone, washed away months ago with a storm of hatred and regret. But Angel still wished he could hold onto how it felt.

But I can remember. Maybe I have the real thing now.

Angel didn't waste a second longer. He wiped the tracks out from under his eyes and let the clicking of his feels on the floor guide him out the door. He walked past staff members and fellow actors, their eyes growing more concerned as Angel strutted farther and farther away. Eventually, when the warm breeze hit him and he could see the crimson red evening sky of Hell, he let out the guttural scream within him.

Was this freeing? He couldn't really say. Val didn't absolve his contract, he'd be back in the next day at the mercy of a very pissed off overlord. So what was the reason? Why did he feel as if he was on cloud nine? Because Husk is at home. And that's where I'm going. The path up to the hotel is a long road to walk without a car, but Angel had strength pulsing through his legs. Comfortably numb, he soaked in the last warm rays of Hell's sun.

The demons on the straight looked and pointed, but Angel didn't care. His grin must've covered his face as much as Smiles' did. He was jogging by now, a laugh punching itself out from his lungs. Life was new. Husk was right up the hill- oh, he's gonna be so happy to see me back early! Angel will drink his iced tea, fuck, he might dance around the lobby!

He pushed open the doors of the hotel, beelining straight for the bar-pushing past Alastor in the process, who gave an annoyed whir. Husk had been nodding off until Angel slammed all six of his arms on the bar. "The fuck?! Anthony? What's wrong?" He called, blinking deleriously. Angel laughed, immediately grabbing his collar and kissing him. It was like a billion tiny sparks exploded in Angel's heart, warming him up from the inside out. Pulling away, Husk blinked in a hazey yet not unhappy confusion.

"Uh- thank you?" He mumbled, quirking an eyebrow and smirking. Angel kept his arms wrapped around him, unable to form the right words. "Why are you home so early?"

"I told Val off again," Angel exclaimed. "He got so pissed at me that he told me to leave. I told him I don't love him and I-" Husk's eyes lidded in satisfaction, bumping foreheads with the other. Angel listened to his purrs, allowing his eyes to close. He heard Charlie call him name from the lobby, "Anthony? Are you home early? Let's watch a movie!"

And so that's what he did. Husk made him a strong drink, just the way Angel liked it. Angel and Charlie got comfortable on the couch and watched whatever she had picked out. He tried to follow along, but his eyes kept wandering to the barkeep, grinning dopily. He couldn't leave his post at the bar, but he watched him watch the movie with a soft smile and a proud swell in his chest.

I love him, Angel knew. And I love this.

It didn't matter what awaited him tomorrow. No matter what, from now until redemption, the days would belong to Valentino.

But the night? That was reserved all for Husk. And that was just the way Angel liked it.