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After a particularly execrable day at work, Angel had returned at the Happy Hotel, looking absolutely dreadful, his clothes ripped to shreds, whole fur tufts pulled out of his skin, traces of punches and dried blood scattered all over his body. As usual, he sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of strong alcohol, which might help him forget his miserable daily life through the brief heat that filled his stomach and also, although temporarily, the cold emptiness that engulfed his scarred soul.
With his usual tone as jaded as his usual self, Husk unexpectedly spoke to him. Admittedly, it was only a few words – more precisely: "Shitty day, huh?" – but it was enough to take Angel by surprise, as he generally didn't say a lot because he knew he wouldn't get any answer. Of course, sometimes he had some fun flirting with the feline, made him offers each more daring and explicit that the last and took a malicious pleasure in seeing him get offended, send him packing and go sulk back in a corner while rinsing glasses.
But it didn't really go any further. Anyway, this evening, he wasn't in the mood for courting and messing around, absolutely not, actually it was the last thing he wanted to do. Not that he wasn't interested in the bartender anymore, quite the opposite, this could decently not happen. But it was just... too much. He couldn't take any more. Even just for fun, just to satisfy the sweet temptation of hitting on the only man in Hell who truly found favor with him, especially as – despite his shameless advances – he didn't rush at him like some frustrated maniac chasing for sex and, through it, for power over people... This time, he couldn't, he didn't even think of it.
However, the cat spontaneously said these few words to him. Caught unawares in addition to the fact of being tired, Angel took a little moment to regain his composure and come up with an answer, though he didn't even try to save face with some unctuous small talk or dubious banter.
- Yeah... I'm that pathetic, mh?
By way of a response, the chimera just grunted while serving him his drink and, against all odds, he sat at the bar too, facing him. This was the second surprise of the evening, once again it was not much, but... What had gotten into him? Was the arachnid really that pathetic? Usually, he would have immediately seized the opportunity to pull out all the stops for him, but he was too exhausted and taken aback by his attitude. So, he didn't say anything and just pulled some coins out of his pocket to put them on the bar.
- Keep these. And don't ask. I'm in a generous mood, let's say.
- Oh wow, my grumpy kitty is giving free drinks, now is he?
- Don't make me change my mind, asshole. And don't call me that!
- All right, I was just joking around... But make sure that if Charlie counts a bit too closely...
- Well screw her. She's loaded as fuck so she's not gonna bust my balls just for a few missing bucks.
Angel couldn't help but giggle to Husk's perpetual insolent and rock solid couldn't-give-a-damn behavior. Being tired didn't help and he really felt confused ; they were sitting face to face, they had a conversation which lasted more than three words and a grumbling, without it being due to any hookup attempt from the spider, who besides could enjoy a free drink – though this was unofficial. And it didn't stop here, they started to talk, about common stuff – on the scale of Hell – but for several minutes, maybe half an hour. It was so unelikely... yet really nice.
It should be said that neither of them had constructive conversations the rest of the time. For one, it was mainly his pimp, his co-stars at the studio or his clients. For the other, is was the Hazbin Hotel folks, whom he didn't give a toss about to the highest degree, Alastor who sent him on some random thankless job, or his game competitors he just wanted to fleece before leaving with the jackpot. For both of them, it wasn't really a matter of talking, or in any case not in a friendly way nor for an innocent purpose.
So, this new situation, although unnerving, was rather pleasant for them. At first, Angel stayed on his guard, he was such in a shambles when he came back that it might have just raised a hint of consideration tinged with pseudo-charity from the feline, who made conversation just because he took pity on him. But his doubt faded away gradually, since it went on unexpectedly on the following days, slowly becoming a sort of habit between them. Angel came back to the hotel, sat on the bar, sometimes waking Husk when he was really too drunk to the point that he was slumped on the bar, dozing and drooling on his own arm, and they had a drink while chatting. They didn't tackle private and sensitive subjects or very little, on one hand because neither dared to rekindle discussions about what the other might have been through during the day and didn't want to think about anymore, on the other hand because their egos would not allow them to.
But these exchanges brought them a certain comfort, and they felt a bit less alone, even if is was a small thing. And eventually, this small thing became bigger as time went by, as they got more and more acquainted with each other. The cat shared his tips to win card games, some magic tricks he mastered – with a demonstration in support when he was in the mood – or even his favorite alcoholic cocktails. The spider told him how he learnt to dance, including in high heels, to dress and make up, sometimes cross-dress, for the stage – which was much more complex than it seemed, given his specific morphology, the movements, the lighting effects, and many other details – and to handle an indecent amount of weapons. Also, at the very moment he knew that Husk was multilingual and spoke Italian, among others, his heart did a backflip and he immediately look at him with puppy eyes so that he showed him, to the extent that during their conversations, they began to automatically switch from one language to the other every now and then.
Formerly, they would just have burst out laughing if the other had told about this kind of things, but both realized they probably had a lot to learn from each other. These little things, that grew wider from day to day, made something unique bloom inside them, something neither had been able to feel for decades. Like a tiny flame that awakened, deep inside their damned souls, making their hearts flutter and these private talks even more pleasant.
During these moments, Husk, who was fundamentally a loner, found an interesting company, after dull days that only sometimes were lit up by a rush of adrenaline when he was about to hit the jackpot. Aside from these galvanizing occasions, the rest of his activities consisted of drinking like a fish, getting lost in it until half-asleep or recovering from a hangover, while grunting at anyone who came at the bar to bother him. Except for Angel. Now, with him, it was... different. The one he used to see as a spoiled diva who came on to him with his cheap and sometimes obscene catchphrases, brought a fancy touch, a bit of color in his drab existence, and he even put him back on earth, between sessions of getting-smashed-with-cheap-booze.
Deep inside of him, he felt something he had been holding back for a very long time. That was by the way the first thing he told the princess, when he got dropped in this blasted hotel against his will: "I lost the ability to love years ago". And he did. However, he felt this particular sensation coming up, as if he was... fulfilled. But not the same way than when he filled himself up with alcohol, no, this was something much more tangible, solid, that made resurface all the sensitivity he had been constantly refraining, at first out of principle, then instinctively, for such a long time.
Yet, obviously, he was so withdrawn and grouchy, given his past that made him recalcitrant to any sentiment, that he would never admit it, in any case not in front of him.
As for Angel, who tended to take refuge to his room and comfort himself with his piglet pet, found some comfort in these moments, after hours of dancing in bars, preening for photoshoots, being used and abused for some forthcoming movie or by random nobodies on the streets. All of this only brought him brief euphoria and spikes of adrenaline mostly pushed by his two main addictions: drugs and envious gazes upon him. Due to his job he was always surrounded by people, but deep inside, he was alone, totally alone. None of the folks he rubbed shoulders with gave anything real to him. Except for Husk. Now, with him, it was... genuine. The one that used to spend most of his time grouching and sent him packing when he tried to flirt with him, henceforth softened in his presence and allowed him to have real discussions, with no innuendo, no inappropriate gesture, no pervert intention, which was something incredibly soothing for Angel.
Little by little, he realized that, during these shared moments, the alcohol warmed him up, for sure, but it was not the only thing. That sweet sensation nestled deep inside of him didn't only result from the effects of his drink, definitely. It probably made his body temperature increase, but this was only ephemeral and superficial in the end. Yet, at the same time, as days went by, he felt a much more significant, profound and gentle warmth enfolding him like a cocoon, making his heart beat wildly.
Yet, obviously, he was so inconstant and unstable, given his job and his reputation, that he would never admit it either, in any case not in front of him.
Well, maybe...
***
Fat Nuggets was waiting here, just behind the door, as usual he already knew he was coming back.
The piglet squeaked with joy as he saw his owner entering the bedroom and immediately trotted to him. Moved by this daily vision as always, Angel took the adorable animal in his arms and covered him with kisses and strokes, talking to him with a childish voice.
- Well, my baby, you got bored without me, did you? Aw yes you did, my poor little sweetheart... Daddy's right here, now. Yeah yeah, you're so cute. Who's the cutest little piggy ever? Who is it? Huh? Yes, it's you!
He punctuated his silly words by a little kiss on Fat Nuggets' snout, which was returned with a lick on his hand. Angel stayed here for a long while, cuddling him and talking about his day, his misadventures, the few heads he had blown up with his friend Cherri, and his evening at the bar with Husk. All he wanted at the moment was to go to bed, but there was no way he would do it without making sure he had made up for lost time with his little buddy, to whom he could confide everything. For him, it was an unequaled comfort, a moment of pure softness and affection with the only truly innocent creature he knew, who would never abandon him and would always be there for him, and for whom he would always be there too.
After a few minutes savoring this instant, he put his pet down and fed him, then he took a shower, put comfy clothes on for the night and rushed to slump on his bed. Like it was happening since the last few weeks, he thought deeply about this long conversation he had with the feline that evening. And, as usual, a soft warmth took place again in his belly and he couldn't help but smile like a halfwit. However, he was so tired his eyes just closed and he let himself drift off to sleep. In the meantime, Fat Nuggets, having finished his meal, had joined him on the bed to snuggle in his chest and spend the night beside him. Then, without controlling the words coming out from his mouth, just before he fell asleep, between scratches on the pig's cute little head, Angel caught himself whispering to him:
- Hey... He'd be a really cool Daddy #2 to you... Right?
*
Following these impulsive words, it seemed that he had slept on it, and he decided to push all of this a bit further. Of course, it wouldn't be on his interests to come up with his common pick-up techniques, he clearly understood this didn't work on Husk and, anyway, he didn't want to do it that way. Though he couldn't – and didn't want to – put words on it, what he felt was much too deep, to honest so that he would just act as his usual flirtatious self who sold his dream body to almost anyone deigning to pay for it. He wanted... something else. Something just like what the feline gave him. Something real, tangible, spontaneous. Actually, he didn't really know what, he had no idea of what he was doing. But he couldn't keep it all to himself anymore.
For a long time, he refused if only to consider trying anything, he had been deceived much too often and had met too many deceitfully kind people who screwed him over to let himself be corrupted by his own feelings and lower his walls so easily for someone. He had suffered too much to let anyone see beyond the fortress he had built around him, to appear vulnerable and sentimental, to give his trust once more, enough to confide such things.
But he couldn't pretend anymore. Anyway, given the barman's general attitude, the worst that could happen was that he would just reject him again. Husk only had a manipulative side when it came to trick his opponents in card games, he couldn't care less about anything else, so much that he was probably not the kind of person who would lure him with some stuff to finally bring him down to hell with a bang and then go trumpet from every single rooftop he had fucked him, in every sense of the word. So, Angel had nothing to lose. He didn't really know what he was about to do, or how, or why, but if he could allow himself to be honest with one person in this cursed place, best go all in. After all, maybe the bartender would appreciate his truthfulness and, while at it, his taste of risk, as a good gambler.
It was settled: tonight, he would tell him. All of it. No lies, no ceremony, no jesting. A simple, open-hearted, direct, genuine declaration.
~