Work Text:
Usually days at the Hazbin weren't great, but today was a time and a half.
And it wasn't that there weren't normally fights (there were) or screaming (there was) or people running in and out with their hair on fire (literally, that happened too). But all of that was pretty standard. Husk would know. As the concierge and the first face guests saw when they walked into the hotel, he saw it all. And then, as the bartender, he heard it all, too. Alastor and Charlie might run the place, but there wasn't a thing that happened in the building that he didn't know about.
Frankly, if Charlie or Vaggie realized Husk had a finger on the pulse of everything that happened in the hotel well before it happened, oh. He could just imagine how up his ass they'd be because he did know. Every time. It was like the shittiest sixth sense he'd never asked for, but he couldn't help it. He had eyes and big-ass fucking ears too, and he was good at putting things together.
And everyone—literally everyone—came to him.
He didn't know why. Nowhere in or around the desk/bar did it also say 'Hotel Therapist', and he'd looked. If it had, he'd have torn the sign off and used it as litter, but it wasn't there. Everyone came anyway.
Usually he was already inebriated to take the edge off, and most people seemed to respond well enough to his bored grunts and irritated snarls. Truthfully, what he didn't get from his own unwanted observations he got from Niffty, like it or not. The girl was liked but ignored by nearly everyone, and he was one of the few who would let her babble on and on without snapping at her. It was a skill he'd been forced to develop because, as Alastor's deal-signers, they'd spent a lot of time together even before this shitty gig. It was either deal with it or go insane, and as much as that would have tickled Alastor, Husk didn't want to put up with himself enough to go crazy. The last thing he wanted was to lose it and swear up and down that he was drinking alcohol when it might in fact be piss. No fucking thanks.
So he'd adapted. Which meant he had the inside scoop on everything. Which meant he usually knew when something was about to happen at the hotel so he, at least, could prepare.
Usually.
The day had started off normal enough. He'd shown up (late) to the front desk and mechanically turned his sign from 'Closed' to 'Open'. He hadn't been paying attention. All that had mattered was the whiskey-laced coffee in his hand and a deep desire to not do a single fucking thing all day. He'd looked forward to turning on the TV and just sinking into his booze, prepared for another typical day at the Hazbin.
Only, if he'd actually paid attention, he'd have noticed there were sinners he'd never seen before waiting in the lobby. A lot of them. Yesterday Crymini had posted something on social media about how she'd had a breakthrough and had maybe experienced something redemptive and divine. She'd come to the bar last night to tell him all about it, and while he'd listened he hadn't really given it the time of day. Niffty had added something about how the post had gotten a lot of 'likes'—whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean—and that sinners were starting to talk about the hotel. Crymini was an influencer, after all. A lot of people followed her.
Husk hadn't known what the fuck an influencer was, but he decided it was horrible.
Because the moment he flipped his sign, he'd had a line out the door and was forced to realize that today, of all days, he would have to work. For real.
It was the Hazbin's first flood.
Since Crymini's post, Charlie's wet dream came true because it was like the door to the Hazbin never shut as hopeful face after face after face entered like they were giving away coke. Suddenly there was an endless queue of sinners all wanting to check in and, worse, he couldn't skimp on the vetting process. He could see it spill out into his future. Idiots making hell in the hotel. Noises and messes he didn't want to deal with but would be forced to if he wasn't careful. An endless nightmare he'd have to handle if, here and now, he chose not to give a shit.
So Husk got to fucking work.
While he knew Alastor had picked him for a lot of reasons, here in the flood it turned out one of the primary ones finally had a chance to show itself. Grumpy, irritated, and desperately in need of a drink, Husk wasn't afraid to swing around the power he had as the concierge and separate the sinners he was willing to deal with from the ones he wasn't. Charlie's mission statement was that anyone who came could stay, but she was stupid and he wasn't. The ones that really wanted in? They got in. The ones that only wanted to cause trouble? Waitlist. Schemers? Waitlist. Known murders? Waitlist. Arsonists? Fucking bottom of the waitlist.
"But you gotta make an exception for my best gal!" Angel Dust argued as Cherri Bomb stood at the desk with a devious grin, idly rolling one of her bombs along the length of the bartop. Angel gave him a beguiling smile Husk met with flat discontent. "Come on, Daddy. For me?"
"I'm not your daddy, and if you say that again I'm going to rip out an eye. One of yours." Still, Husk reached for a now coveted room key. Just as Cherri was about to swipe it out of his hand, he jerked it back. "One fucking explosion on hotel grounds, and I swear to Lucifer, I will kick you both out."
"You're the best, Husky!" Angel said.
"The absolute best, Husky!" Cherri said.
Angel leaned across the bartop to reach for his face but stopped when the long, narrow line of a mic appeared between them.
"Now, now. You wouldn't be harassing the staff again, would you, Angel?"
Angel rolled his eyes before slumping in immediate defeat and taking Cherri's hand. "Come on, Sugar Tits. The Strawberry Pimp's cockblocking me again."
"And I'm always going to," Alastor said pleasantly under his breath. His words had been said so softly it was only because the Radio Demon was right next to him and that Husk's ears were so sharp that he heard it.
Red eyes caught his yellow, and it took everything Husk had not to shake his head and smirk. Never failed. It wasn't the first time Alastor had thwarted Angel's advances whenever the spider demon tried to get handsy with him. But Alastor was smooth like that. No one noticed anything deeper, and while his red eyes glinted with amusement and possessiveness, Alastor lifted his chin instead. A manager to a subordinate.
"You are letting in interesting characters as well, aren't you? They can't all be dreadfully boring now! After all, we must cast the net wide, Husker. Who knows who could make it out of Hell?"
Husk snorted before shoving a list of newly admitted guests into Alastor's eager hands.
"You'll like number nine."
Alastor gasped, and it was clearly a struggle for him to keep his composure. "Husker. A fascist?"
"Pig demon. I hope you eat his guts. Better give him the Hazbin's deluxe treatment."
"You are a miracle worker, my dear! I knew I picked the right sinner for the job."
Husker snorted again. Rolled his eyes. Couldn't stop the minuscule grin that tugged at his lips and knew Alastor had caught it. The right sinner? Please. He was the only sinner Alastor would have ever picked, let alone trusted to do this.
After all, who knew what Alastor wanted better than him?
Alastor tucked the papers behind his back before giving him a grin of his own. "Keep up the good work."
The Radio Demon turned, and Husk kept a straight face as he felt sharp fingers slip through the fur of his lower back where no one could see as he passed by. He resisted the urge to arch a brow, because oh. Husk had been feeling the stress, but he guessed it really was turning out to be one of those days, and Husk couldn't help but use his tail to give an answering brush against Alastor's ankle. Quiet communication, but loud and clear to the both of them all the same.
A warning and an answering acceptance.
They went back to their respective work. Husk vetted guests and faced the flood head-on. Alastor worked with Charlie to run the hotel and ruin what guests Husk got for him. They never stopped and he knew he wasn't the only one drowning in the work.
Despite the interlude, it had been a long fucking day. He didn't know when it had happened, but he remembered looking at the clock at high noon, and the next time he'd looked it was late. Really fucking late. He'd started serving drinks at some point, and he couldn't remember when that had happened.
By the time everything fucking ended he was bone-weary, edgy, and just wanted to sleep, and it was only because he threatened to get the stragglers in the lounge evicted if they didn't scram back to their room that he was finally left in peace. He didn't know what the fuck this day had been, but if it had gone on one more fucking minute, he'd have skinned someone alive. Maybe even himself. He didn't even know what ungodly hour it was, but if he hadn't been threatened by Vaggie into taking on maid service with Niffty if he left the bar and lounge a mess like he usually did, he'd have said fuck it, snagged a bottle of beer, and left the bar a mess. But as shitty as his job was, he'd rather have direct access to the booze over sweeping the same piece of floor forever until Alastor got bored with this stupid hotel charity idea and they could finally fucking leave.
So, with a headache grinding inside his skull and all of his nerves irritated, he snatched up a broom and got to work. Distantly he heard the rest of the staff also rounding out the day. Vaggie was grumbling about late perimeter sweeps and how they needed to get a decent security system (yes). Niffty was dragging a few of the unconscious guests, hopefully, to their rooms. In the main office the low murmurs of Charlie and Alastor set a faint backdrop, and Husk was relieved that at least he wasn't the only one still up suffering. Alastor even sounded calm. Maybe the warning from earlier wasn't going to pan out at all.
Husk tried not to think about how disappointing that would be.
Grudgingly he cleaned, collecting used glasses, sweeping the floor, mopping, clearing, hating that sinners could make the worst messes. As the work went on he glowered, eyes slipping toward a bottle of beer, his conciliatory prize for when he was done, even if it wasn't what he'd been craving since his interlude earlier with Alastor. But whatever. He just had to get through this and then all that was left was the beer and sleep. That was all. He was almost done.
Then all that was left was the bartop.
Husk sighed and was sorely tempted to leave it, but even he had to admit it was disgusting after the busy day. At some point he'd stopped leaning against it because his fur kept sticking to the surface, and he didn't want to think about what had happened to it to make it so filthy. He went to see if Niffty had a spare rag, but he blinked when he saw the lights to her work area were off with a helpful little note on the door letting everyone know that she'd be back in the morning. He'd been so focused on completing his own tasks that he hadn't realized he was the last one up. He couldn't hear Vaggie's stomps or Charlie and Alastor talking. It was dead all around him except for the quiet click of his claws on the tile as he moved. He was alone.
A frown pulled at his lips. He guessed things hadn't been as bad as Alastor had thought. Husk wished he could've said the same.
He sighed again before snatching up a rag and spray bottle of cleaner. At the very least he'd wipe the bartop down. In the morning he'd scrub it, but it was late and if Vaggie had a problem with that, then she could kiss his ass.
All he wanted right now was just to go to bed.
Slowly he made his way back to the bar, each step heavy as he turned off the TV because he just couldn't handle the extra stimulation. He had one task left and then he was done. He didn't even give a shit about his reward beer. He'd have it tomorrow. The truth was that he could have booze whenever the fuck he wanted so long as he did his job, so it didn't even matter. All he wanted was to be done.
Husk slipped behind the bar before lifelessly spraying. It wasn't even that much. Just one last thing. That was it. Then he'd be done. He'd even come in late tomorrow. Fuck yeah.
It was as he picked up the rag to begin wiping that the air changed, static tickling his ears before arms wrapped around his waist from behind. He paused when a nose settled into his furred neck as a tall, narrow body pressed close between his wings.
If it had been anyone else, he'd have ripped them apart because who the fuck did they think they were? But he knew this person. Knew the feel of them, the static, the distinctive sweet and earthy and bloody scent, and the tightness and disappointment he'd felt since he realized no one else was around, eased. It seemed he'd read the Radio Demon right earlier about the fucked-up day, after all. Husk couldn't help a wry smile, muscles relaxing.
"Still working hard, I see," Alastor hummed into his neck, letting Husk take some of his weight. "How industrious of you, Husker. I'd have never believed."
"Hardly," Husk said, one of his ears brushing Alastor's. In the past that had caused them both to twitch, but at some point over the years it had become normal in its casual intimacy. He turned enough to catch a tired red eye. "Not gonna lie. Thought you'd already turned in."
"I considered," Alastor sighed. "But it was a long day. So much activity. Excitement." His arms tightened, a hand slipping into his fur as a thumb gently stroked over his hipbone. "You know I can't calm down properly without you."
Husk gave a hum of his own as he continued to wipe the bartop. This wasn't the first time this had happened, even if it was the first time in the Hazbin. No one knew, but the great Radio Demon could sometimes get overactivated, even if they'd never guess by the look of him. Alastor hid it well. Husk thought the Up Top term these days was 'masking'. Whatever it was, demon or not, sometimes things got to Alastor, too.
And when they did, he came to Husk. Which, Husk was sure, was another big reason why he was here.
"Suspected as much. Was a rough day for everyone, me included. I had to threaten to evict the stragglers."
"Should have killed them. It's inconsiderate."
Husk chuckled, amused that Alastor's exhaustion was making him blunt. This was also a side no one else ever saw. Guy was so particular about his image.
Except when it was just the two of them.
"Well, I'm almost done. Kinda surprised you came down here, though." Husk lifted his wings a little, creating a wall between Alastor and anyone who might come by. "Someone might see."
"Their eyes will explode before they round the corner," Alastor promised as he nuzzled his face further in Husk's neck, his breath warm and humid and sinking through his fur. With the Radio Demon holding onto him like this, honest and unmasked, Husk couldn't help how it pulled at his own fatigue and everything he wanted down to his bones. A smirk tugged at his lips when Alastor said, "You should hurry, though."
"Fine, fine, I'm done. It's good enough for now. Vaggie can suck my dick if she doesn't like it."
Alastor made a soft, disgusted sound before his arms curled tighter around him, like bars.
"No one will be doing anything of the sort to you, Husker."
He chuckled again, tossing the rag out of sight before wiping his clawed hands against his pants.
"Possessive fucker. Come on, let me go. I take it you wanna be in my room, right? Gotta get there somehow."
Alastor hummed pleasantly, and Husk's eyes widened, alarm making his heart race as the Radio Demon tipped them backward. His center of gravity upended and every cat instinct in him screamed because suddenly none of his limbs were touching the ground. His wings flailed, his tail snagged around one of Alastor's legs, and if he yowled, he would deny it until kingdom come. Alastor's tired laugh was bright beside his ear, and one second he was looking at the roof of the bar, and the next they landed with a soft thump, and he found himself staring at the ceiling of his room.
"I've finally got my hands on you," Alastor said, his voice roughening with the exponential increase of his exhaustion now that they were horizontal on Husk's bed. "You're a fool if you thought I'd let you go after the day we've had."
"Goddamnit, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Husk swore as his heart calmed down and he let every one of his limbs go limp. "Fuck, you are a bastard."
"So you've told me," Alastor muttered happily as he shifted and adjusted, getting comfortable, and Husk had gone through this enough to just let him find whatever position he wanted.
"Just not on my wing."
"It's not as comfortable as I'd thought it would be. I don't think I'll sleep on it again."
"Until you forget and get curious. Again."
Husk didn't have to see Alastor's face to know he was smirking. They'd had this conversation before. Multiple times.
But the Radio Demon was true to his word this time, and soon enough Husk found himself with an armful of Alastor, the other demon's face pressed into his neck up under his chin, though that meant he'd have to be careful about any sleep he got. This was also not an uncommon position, and he'd been poked in the face by Alastor's antlers enough to remember it. Those tips were sharp.
But they'd done this before a few times. Hell, way more than a few times, and as much as this helped Alastor wind down from an overly taxing day, it helped settle Husk's edgy nerves too. Husk had always been a tactile creature, deep down, even if he didn't like to show it any more than Alastor liked to experience it. It was a trust thing on his part, and it was touch-aversion on Alastor's, but he'd noticed over the long years that, when touching and being touched by him at least, Alastor didn't seem to mind. At no point would Alastor ever admit it—he was an Overlord after all, Alastor didn't want to expose a weak spot and Husk didn't want to be treated like one—but that was fine. He'd never needed something overt, not really. He'd just needed something.
It still amazed him that this was it.
As was the case when Alastor was overactivated and unable to settle on his own, stroking Husk's fur and basking in his innate cat nature seemed to get right to the heart of whatever unsettled him. Now that they were alone, the deer demon didn't hesitate. Hands drenched in fatigue slid slowly over Husk's body, along his sides and hips and back, over the sensitive flesh of his wings and the tantalizing base of Husk's tail.
A shameless purr eased out of Husk, letting the Radio Demon touch him as Alastor's weight held him down. In the past with others who'd shared his bed, this would have made him hard and horny, but there was just something about Alastor. Not to say he'd say no if Alastor was interested, but he never was, and while at first that was confusing, it also became... fine. He hadn't realized as a human that, while sex was great and all, what he'd really craved was intimacy. Closeness. In some ways his form as a cat demon was pretty fucking on point because he wanted that intimacy but fuck if he wouldn't hiss or bite or claw when it didn't suit him.
He didn't know when it had happened, but somehow... Alastor suited him. Probably because it had started slowly and with so much time to grow and get comfortable and used to it since both of them were stubborn about intimacy, usually.
But Alastor got overactivated, sometimes. And Husk let his guard down, sometimes.
Maybe it was just serendipity that they'd had the luck of having those moments at the same time that first time. If it had been any other time, Husk would have sworn and shoved the Radio Demon off, hating Alastor for using his position as his dealmaker to his advantage. As it was, it had been at the right time. For the both of them.
Because every other time after had been fine because that first time had gone so well.
And so, here they were once again. Feeling run down and in need of someone, and for whatever reason, it was each other. Of course, it was possible that Alastor might be doing this with others, but Husk didn't think so. The Radio Demon was too proud to allow more vulnerability, and he was also way too possessive of him. Alastor's needs and desires were being met exactly how he wanted them to be met, and with exactly who he wanted them with.
And for whatever fucking reason... it was Husk.
If the same could be said for him too, if it meant something to Husk as well, he would never say it.
Since Alastor had teleported them into his room, the room was pitch black because the first thing Husk had done was get blackout curtains. He would not deal with any sort of city or Hell light when he might be sleeping who the fuck knew when. So neither of them could see past what their night vision granted them. The Radio Demon was still dressed in his usual, unmistakable outfit though his coat had manifested on a hook Husk had never installed, his boots aligned perfectly underneath as hooves nudged against the paws of Husk's feet.
That was also something no one else knew about. Something he hadn't known about until years after they'd started this. It wasn't just antlers. Alastor had hooves as well. A tail, even, though he'd only seen that once by chance, and he wasn't even sure he hadn't imagined it. He'd been drunk, after all. But since the first time he'd taken off his boots, and because Husk had never reacted to the presence of his hooves, Alastor always removed them. It was thoughtful, in a way. Husk didn't have to wash his sheets as much anymore because he didn't have to deal with the dirt.
He would never tell Alastor that he loved the feel of those hardened ends pressing against his legs.
They stayed like that for a long time. Alastor touching him. Husk just letting him touch. It was enough. Sure, he would have settled for the alcohol to wind down, but that had been more because he hadn't thought he'd get this. But he had Alastor right now, and with his hands tracing across his body, stroking in all the right ways, Husk basked in it and let himself be soothed too. He couldn't think of anything better. It was wonderful and everything he wanted after such a long and shitty day.
And apparently everything Alastor wanted too.
This was just what they did now with growing frequency over the years. Husk didn't know when he'd started to look forward to these moments, but he had.
He wondered if Alastor had too.
"You know," Husk muttered on the edge of sleep as he nuzzled the soft hair between Alastor's antlers. "You could stay. We could do this every night. I wouldn't mind."
"Mmm, tempting," Alastor mumbled back, his fingers sliding up the back of Husk's neck in a way that made his eyelids flutter and his tail curl around Alastor's ankle. "I might take you up on that one of these days. You'll regret it, then. I'll never leave."
"Yeah, maybe," Husk said with an edge of a smile before he draped the warm, heavy weight of his wing over them. "Maybe not."
And with the day over and the quiet of the Hazbin settling around them, he curled Alastor against his chest and just enjoyed having this. Sharing this. No matter what Alastor wanted to do when they woke up, or tomorrow night, or way into the future, he was fine all the same.
Because he had this, right here, right now.
And it was everything he wanted.