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Alastor hadn’t been that bad in a while. Before his disappearance, he’d regularly instilled that fear - that hell-shaking, earth-shattering, terror - in Husk, but his body seemed to have forgotten about it during those seven quiet years. Long after Alastor had left, his tunes merrily playing around his head, Husk was still trembling. He’d known as soon as the words had left his lips that he’d gone too far, but he wasn’t prepared to have his soul - a soul that he didn’t own anymore - threatened. He wasn’t prepared for the sharp, almost painful fear to grip him so strongly that he couldn’t move beyond the shaking. He could feel his heart racing, pounding like it was trying to escape his chest, he could feel his lung tight in his ribs, not able to get in enough air with his shallow breathing, but he could do nothing but lie on his stomach and quiver, his mind racing with the thoughts of Alastor, souls, screams, Alastor, chains, Alastor, Alastor, Alastor…
He didn’t know how long he lay there. It could have been seconds, it could have been a human lifetime that he shook, his eyes wide and unblinking, a sob halfway up his throat but caught on too-big lungs that refused to draw in air. His vision was blurry, but he didn’t know if it was tears or the soon-to-be unconsciousness that he almost hoped would take him. He tasted bile on his tongue. He felt wetness on his fur. He saw boots in his vision and oh, God, he was back. He’d changed his mind, Husk’s soul was about to be ripped to shreds and he could do nothing but lay and shake and shake and scream but nothing was coming out of his mouth and-
“-baby, just breathe.” A voice pierced through the panic, freezing his thoughts but not his heart, which beat and beat and beat until it was all he could hear, all he could feel, it was breaking out of his chest, that was the only reason it would hurt so bad unless Alastor was pulling, tearing, ripping at his soul and -
A hand touched his shoulder. Instinctually, he cowered, his wings finally fucking moving to cover his body, his tail lashing out only to draw back when he saw, not red pants, but soft, fuzz covered white legs peeking out from above the boots. He risked a glance upwards, his eyes widening as they met mismatched pink ones, concern readable all over Angel Dust’s face.
Angel Dust.
It was only Angel Dust.
Husk’s chest loosened enough for a squeak or a sob - he wasn’t sure which - to finally force it’s way out, and he coughed as a breath finally managed to enter his lungs, and then he couldn’t stop breathing in, his chest hurting for a different reason, so much air and not enough lung to hold it. Angel was sitting on his knees now, a hand partially outstretched. Husk glanced between it and his face, trying to decipher what was going on. Where the fuck was Alastor?
“He ain’t here, baby.” Angel said, his voice pitched much lower than usual, his accent thicker. “He went with Charlie and ‘er Papa. It’s only you and me here, I promise.”
He’d said that out loud, then. “Nghh…”
“It’s okay. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Angel said, scooting slightly closer.
Husk looked around the hallway, watching for some shadow, some sign, a smile, anything, but Alastor wasn’t there. All he could see was his friend - friend? - holding both upper hands palm up, waiting for Husk to reach out first. His second pair were in his lap, carefully tucked one under the other, making himself as small as was possible for his tall form. “Gah- fuck, Angel.”
“That’s it, it’s just me.” Angel smiled, and Husk looked away. He couldn’t even look at his teeth, at his goofy grin, what the fuck was wrong with him? “Okay. Okay, Husk, I’m not smiling. No more smiling. You can look at me.” Husk didn’t move, too focused on keeping air in his too-tight chest. “...please look at me?”
Husk tasted sour in the back of his throat again, “Hnnn…I’m gonna fuckin-gonna throw up.” He said, unwilling to risk much more than that.
“Okay.” Angel's voice was calming. He didn’t sound panicked or disgusted, he just sounded…calm. Collected. Not chirpy or happy or sneering. Calm. “Can I touch ya?”
No. No, please don’t.
“Mhhm.” Husk nodded.
Angel used all four of his hands as he lay them, not on Husk’s shoulders or arms as he’d thought, but on his face, two hands rubbing his ears and the other two holding his jaw. He wasn’t trying to move him. Confused, Husk forced his own arm to move, to cover his mouth before he stress-vomited all over the floor, awkwardly knocking Angel’s hands away.
“It’s okay.” Angel's hands were almost angelic, the four points of pressure reassuring Husk that he wasn’t being held against his will. He wasn’t being yanked or forced, he was just being…held. “Do whatcha gotta do, Nifty’ll probably be thrilled to have something nasty to clean up.”
Husk swallowed against it, hating the idea. His throat burned. “‘m…’m fine…”
“Okay.” Angel nodded, his expression neutral. For some reason, Husk appreciated the blank canvas. No smile. “You think you can move? The carpet’s soft, but not that soft.”
He didn’t want to move, but he nodded anyways, “Just…just gimme a second.” He said, finally finding his sanity again as he managed to sit up on his own, Angel's hands disappearing as he did so. His tail swished nervously around his knees, “Fuck…”
“Ya back with us, Kitty-cat?” Angel asked, his hands palm-up on his knees once again.
“Don’t call me that.” Husk snapped, his heart picking up speed again as he bared his teeth.
Angel blinked, “Husk. Okay. I ain’t tryna push your buttons.”
Husk could feel tears welling in his eyes again as the panic finally settled and frustration set in instead. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, especially not the one guy who he’d built some kind of fucked-up bond with in the whole hotel. “I’m…I’m going to my room.” He muttered, standing up. He clenched his fists as he felt his hands continue to tremble, digging his claws so deeply into his skin he could feel it start to tear.
“Don’t do that.” Angel Dust’s voice was softer still, “Hey, Husk, look at me.”
Husk ignored him, turning around. “Fuck off.”
“Husk-”
“ Fuck. Off.”
Angel went quiet for a moment, and Husk briefly wondered if he’d pissed him off. However, instead of shouting or cursing back at him, Angel’s only words were, “Okay. I’m going to my room. Don’t hurt yourself.” There was silence as he seemed to wait for a response, but Husk only loosened his hands, letting his fangs sink into his cheek instead.
Angel Dust finally moved past him in the direction of their rooms, but Husk refused to look at him, staring firmly at the ground until he heard his fellow sinner turn the corner. He waited for the sound of a door to close in the distance before he slowly snuck into his own room, fell on the bed, and curled with his wings around him once again, trying desperately to get Alastor’s laughter out of his head.
The hotel was always quiet late at night, so Husk liked to sit on the floor behind their little bar and relax. If anyone came downstairs and somehow saw him, he could just pretend he was cleaning up without Nifty’s eye on him. Beyond that, he could get absolutely plastered, pass the fuck out and wake up when everyone came downstairs the next morning, so it was really a win-win for him.
Of course, the one night he could have really used that alone time was the only night that Angel Dust came downstairs and decided to lounge on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. Husk leaned against the wall, deciding to wait for the man to leave before he got started on the drinks - he didn’t really feel like sharing the night with someone who’d seen him nearly throw up a few hours before. Seemingly unaware that Husk was there, Angel’s phone was turned somewhat up, and Husk could watch the different flashes of color light up the walls as he listened to skipped news clips, stupid videos and Angel’s small huffs or mumbles in response to whatever he was watching. Vaguely, Husk considered that he might be intent on staying out in the lobby for much longer than a brief stint, and he curled up on the floor, hoping he could at least sleep if he couldn’t drink.
It was when he seemed to be succeeding somewhat in his mission to pass out, his muscles untensing and his mind beginning to float, that he heard someone yelling. He sat up, intent on groveling or fighting, depending on who was yelling, but hit his head on the bottom of the bar and hissed, his headache from crying earlier not helped whatsoever by the action.
He heard a familiar voice shriek at the same time, and he leapt over the bar counter, ready to fight an intruder, but came face-to-face with Angel Dust instead, who’s phone was laying abandoned on the floor and still producing audio.
The two of them stared at each other for a second, Angel’s fists raised as Husk recognized the voice on the phone. Valentino’s slurred words were echoing through the empty lobby, “-letting that BITCH pull that shit, and you are so fucking dead when you get back to the studio, fuck what you had scheduled, you’re at the studio at FOUR, do you hear me? I have loads of loads waiting for you to take when-”
Angel Dust seemed to shake off his initial shock and quickly leaned down, fumbling with his phone in his attempts to turn the voice messages off. “Fucking-shit, you-what the fuck, Husk!?” He asked, “The hell ‘was you doing!?”
Husk took a step backwards, glancing around to make sure that it really had been just the voice messages and not someone physical in the room with them. “I-fuckin'- I was taking a nap.”
“A nap.” Angel Dust wiped his eyes, and Husk finally noticed the glisten they had to them. “Yeah, right, on the floor?”
“Yes, on the floor!” Angel Dust gave him an incredulous look, and Husk ran a hand down his face, “Fucking fine , I wanted a drink, you came downstairs, I wanted to be alone, so I decided to fall asleep while you were still here. Happy?”
Angel Dust pressed his lips together, “...yeah.” He finally said, his voice quivering slightly. “Happy happy.”
They watched each other for a moment, both of them avoiding eye contact until Husk folded his arms and said, “...Valentino?”
Angel Dust sniffed and mirrored Husk’s earlier words, accompanying them with a middle finger as he slumped back on the couch. “Fuck off.”
Husk’s wings drooped, and he let his arms drop as guilt settled in his chest. “...yeah. I…sorry. About that. Earlier. And now, I guess.”
Angel Dust shook his head, mumbling nonsense into the cushions until he looked back at Husk again. “No, I’m not…not fuck off. Don’t fuck off. Unless you wanna. Then do, I guess.” He sighed, turning his phone on its screen, “It’s him, not you.”
“I mean…I was sort of a dickbag to you earlier.” Husk muttered, his tail swishing on the ground.
Angel shrugged, “Not really. You were freakin’ out, I’ve been there. No harm done.” Silence fell over the two once again, and Husk just watched as Angel turned the volume down on his phone, “I need to uh…probably listen to these though. Just make sure I’m not…needed.”
“Right.” Husk swallowed, “I’ll…I’ll go then.”
Angel tapped his phone against his forehead, “I-You don’t gotta leave. Y’ just might not like what…what he has to say, that’s all.”
Husk hesitated, “Do you…do you want me to stay?”
Angel sniffed again, looking somehow small in his pajamas despite his height. “I mean…if you-if you’re okay w’ that. I know your own boss shook ya up earlier so…so not if it brings up shit.”
Husk frowned, “I don’t think it will.”
“Then…if ya wanna stay, uh...go ahead.” Angel unlocked his phone - it didn’t have a password, Husk noticed vaguely - and pressed play on the recordings again. Husk stood awkwardly behind him as Angel pressed his phone up to his ear, listening to his own keeper. Despite the urge to give him privacy, Husk’s cat ears and his general suspicion that Angel wanted him to stay made listening in a given.
“When you get back, you’re staying as long as I keep you, and you better eat first because fuck you if you think you’re getting a break. I might even let the producers at ‘ya, if we need more participants.”
“Angel, baby, you know I’ll treat you good when you get back. You’re my shining star, we’ll have a private session, just you and me, yes?”
“Fucking call me back, you keep ignoring me! I’m going to make you regret that when you have three dicks in your holes at once, you slut fucker!”
"Baby, I'm sorry about earlier, you're just so special to me that I hate when you don't call back."
“Anthony, you’d better-!”
Angel inhaled sharply, and Husk felt his blood run cold. “Angel, are you-”
“I’m fine.” Angel said quickly, running a hand through his hair as he paused the recordings again. “I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s fine.”
Husk tapped his claws against his thigh, feeling the phantom chains around his throat. “Can I touch you?”
Angel snorted, “Using my own words against me?”
“Asking for consent. Like you did.” Husk said firmly, “And not…not in a sexual way.”
Angel took a deep breath, “I know. I know. Yeah, you can touch me. Jus’ not…not my throat. Or my wrists. Please.”
“Me either, ‘kay?” Husk waited for Angel to nod before sitting next to him, putting his hand up on his lap. Angel huffed, but placed one of his hands in Husk’s, looping their fingers together. “Shit day, huh?”
Angel shrugged, “Not all bad.”
“No…I guess not.” Husk squeezed his hand, “I’m gonna beat the shit outta your boss as soon as I get the chance.”
Angel hummed, “I’d love to see that. I’d offer to beat the fuck outta Alastor, but I genuinely think I’d die.”
Husk barked out a laugh, “Just offer to fuck him, he’ll flee the scene.”
“Ah, I’ve tried.” Angel put his hand on his forehead dramatically, but sobered up quickly. “Did he…uh…did he hurt you, earlier?”
Husk swallowed, his face heating under his fur as he recalled the embarrassing state Angel had found him in. “No. No, he…he didn’t.”
“Then what…” Angel trailed off, looking uncertain.
“Just scared the shit out of me.” Husk said honestly, “I said something I shouldn’t have, he got pissed, and…and he reminded me of what he has over me, that’s all.”
Angel nodded, bringing his legs up to his chest. “He threaten you?”
Husk put his head on the back of the couch, reminding himself to breathe. “Yeah. Pretty typical stuff, I think I just…I just got used to not…y’know, he was gone for so long…”
“Yeah.” Angel sighed, “I’d probably have a bad reaction if Val did that.” He seemed to think for a moment before asking, “Hey, uh…tell me if this is too far, but...Al…does he…?”
“Rape me?” Husk asked bluntly. He regretted it when Angel flinched minutely, but he couldn’t do much once it was out of his mouth. “No. No, he doesn’t…he doesn’t like that sorta thing. Honestly, he’s more words than action. He’s never hit me, never…never done much but threaten. It’s the fact that he could that scares the living fuck out of me. Guess he’s better than Valentino.”
Angel shook his head, “I don’t think so. Different. Maybe not better.”
Husk disagreed, but he wasn’t going to argue the point. “Let’s stop talking about the shitlords, yeah? How’re you…feeling?” He wrinkled his nose, “Fuck, I sound like Charlie.”
Angel giggled, “I feel fine. Dreading four AM, but hey, whatcha gonna do. You doing okay from uh…whatever that was earlier?”
Husk nodded, “Good now. Hungry, actually, but none of the food here is like…edible. The drinks might be the least toxic thing here.”
“What, you mean you don’t like Nifty’s mystery stew?” Angel asked, “Or the rotting carcass’s? For shame, Husk, this isn’t a five star restaurant, y’know.”
“Oh, shut up.” Husk shoved his shoulder, “I just want something edible.”
“I’ll cook for ya, sometime.” Angel said, “When I have the time.”
“You cook?”
“I’m Italian, bitch.” Angel flopped the arms that weren’t in Husk’s hand, “Pasta run in my veins.”
“Pasta and porn, my two favorite things.”
“Listen, they both involve making hard things soft, of course I'm good at it.”
Husk nearly choked on his own spit, and had to muffle his voice in the couch cushion to avoid waking half of the hotel as he laughed. “What the absolute fuck, Angel?”
“You can’t say I’m wrong.” Angel chuckled next to him, “I’m a master at it.”
Husk groaned, “You’re so gross.”
“Hey, you can’t say you haven’t wanted to try me out.”
“Don’t phrase it like that.”
“You ain't denying it.”
“ No, Angel.”