Work Text:
It starts with a jacket.
Over the past two weeks, Angel has started sleeping over in Husk's room whenever he has a bad night, not wanting to stay alone when a few doors down Husk is more than willing to offer him the comfort he craves. By now, Husk can predict when he'll show up at his door. Can hear him coming down the hall and is already up when the first knock comes. Angel doesn't say anything—he doesn't have to—for Husk to know that he just needs someone to hold him.
Tonight is not the worst night, he's just feeling down, so Husk lets him shed his jacket and offers him a t-shirt to sleep in before they curl up in bed together. Husk strokes his back until Angel's breathing evens out, until he's sure he's fast asleep, before letting himself fall asleep.
When he wakes up to an empty bed he tries not to feel too disappointed. They haven't really talked about anything and just go by what feels right. Husk is happy he's able to help at all.
He goes about his morning routine—by which he means he gets dressed into his usual getup and tries to comb his hair into place, and giving up when it stubbornly refuses to stay down—and gets ready to head down to the bar. That's when he notices Angel's jacket still draped over his desk chair. The pink and white of it a stark contrast in the otherwise dull room.
Angel must've left in a hurry to have forgotten it, which isn't exactly out of the ordinary, but it is strange. He's usually so protective of his things.
He leaves it be for now, expecting Angel to ask him for it eventually. But when Angel sits down at the bar later, wearing a completely different jacket, Husk thinks he might as well let the jacket stay where it is.
Two nights later, Angel is at his door again—this time already dressed in his pyjamas with a spare set of clothes in hand. Husk lets him in without a word and they repeat the same pattern they're quickly growing used to.
Husk wakes up to the rustling of clothes and he cracks open an eye to see Angel buttoning up his shirt. He's checking his hair in the mirror, eyes flicking up and down before they catch on Husk's. Angel turns with a smile, walking over to pat him on the head, sitting down on his haunches with a quiet 'go back to sleep'. He gives a couple scratches to his ear before getting up and heading for the door.
Husk falls back asleep for a while longer, only getting up once the sun is persistently shining right in his eyes. He sits up in bed, his hand landing on something silky, and looks down at Angel's baby pink pyjamas left haphazardly on the edge of his bed. He folds them up and leaves them on the covers to be used again the next night.
"And you know what Cash said?"
"Enlighten me."
"That Roxy was the best lay he'd ever had and would get back with her if Tango wasn't "such an obsessive bitch", his words, not mine."
Husk snorts at the ridiculous voice Angel does to mimic his coworker and turns a page. He's been "reading" for the past hour but in actuality hasn't taken in a single word because he's been focused on watching Angel apply his makeup. It's so damn mesmerizing.
He's got to keep up appearances, though. Can't let Angel know he's much more captivating than any book could ever be.
"And the best part," Angel continues excitedly. "Tango was right behind him the entire time! Her eyes bugged out more than usual, I swear." Angel throws his head back and cackles, lowering his eyeliner so as not to smudge it.
It had been a long week and Angel was going out with Cherri to blow off some steam. He had come asking for Husk's opinion on what he was going to wear, and while he was running back and forth to his room in different outfits, he had started recounting the drama happening between a couple at the studio. Husk had to remind him to get ready or he'd be late so Angel had decided to do his makeup in Husk's room to save time and finish his story. Two birds with one stone, and all that.
Angel applies some clear lipstick-looking thing, smacks his lips, and does a final look of himself. He twirls around to look at Husk, posing seductively. "How do I look?"
Husk lowers his book, still trying to keep up the facade of reading and takes in the completed look. "You know you're gorgeous, don't gotta ask me that."
"Thanks, Husky," Angel preens, dropping his pose to fidget with his rings, a subtle blush rising on his cheeks. He turns back to the mirror and runs his fingers through his hair once more when his phone rings. "Cherri's waiting."
"Have fun," Husk says and flips the page. If someone quizzed him on the content of the book, he's fail spectacularly.
"You know we will~" Angel calls over his shoulder and blows him a kiss from the door, and with a flourish he leaves to wreak havoc on the town. He'll find out the extent of the damage on their morning news, no doubt.
Angel's assortment of makeup is left strewn about the top of his dresser like they belong there.
Husk turns back three pages and starts reading from the beginning, without distractions this time.
A makeup bag appears a few days later and the various tubes and brushes are stored away alongside a standing mirror Husk remembers seeing in Angel's room before. A few other things, such as a headband and makeup wipes, find their way to the dresser as well over the next few weeks.
Angel keeps coming to Husk's room to get ready, saying that it's so he can recount all of the work drama he overhears in addition to getting opinions on his outfit choices. He knows Husk isn't really following along with the drama itself, but he knows he's listening, which is all that matters to him.
Husk's reading is put aside for the time being because he can't possibly focus on anything else with Angel's dramatized retellings and mesmerizing movements as he paints his face. He doesn't mind though, much preferring listening to Angel over reading any day.
Husk is very particular about his personal space, not liking it when someone stands too close to him, and despises the idea of having people in his room. Well, with one exception.
He tends to lock his door whenever he's out, so after a long day of running errands for the hotel, he's surprised to find Angel banging on his door.
"Need something?" He asks and Angel whips around to look at him.
"Finally, I thought you'd started hibernating," Angel quips. He holds up the pile of fabric in his arms. "I got you some more blankets to stop your bitching about it being cold."
"Uh huh." It was decidedly not him who was complaining about it being cold, but Husk would let it slide this time. Having extra blankets wasn't such a bad idea, considering he now had to fight for his own—which, when his opponent has twice the arms, is a useless fight to have.
Husk unlocks the door and lets them in, Angel depositing the pile of blankets on his bed. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but seems to think better of it.
"Something else on your mind?" Husk prods anyway. Angel looks at him, then at the door, before dropping his gaze to the floor. Husk looks at the door and thinks he knows what the issue is. "You want me to leave it open?"
Angel looks up, startled, and waves his hands. "No, no, you don't have to. I know you like keeping people out."
"Not you."
He answers a bit too fast to not make it seem like a big thing, because it is. A big thing.
"Really?" Angel asks so quietly Husk might've missed it if he wasn't focused on him. Husk nods and Angel smiles softly.
The door stays unlocked from then on.
The best thing added to his room, in Husk's opinion, is an old record player. Angel doesn't like sitting in silence so he lugs it over one afternoon. Husk would have expected him to own a modern speaker system, but surprisingly Angel has the same appreciation for older electronics as he does.
He's also got a decent collection of vinyls which Husk greedily rifles through. He finds one of his favorites and immediately pulls it out of its sleeve, setting it on the platter, and carefully drops the needle onto the edge.
Soft piano accompanied by an acoustic guitar fills the room, the singer crooning the words in a smooth baritone. Husk hums along, goosebumps rising on his skin with the vibration. Angel watches him with a sappy smile and starts singing along, the pitch a tad too low for him.
Husk holds out his hands and Angel grabs onto them. Angel wraps his hands around his neck when he's pulled up. They start dancing along to the song, singing the words to each other in the shrinking space between them.
The song fades out and drums and bass kick off a more upbeat one. Husk twirls Angel around, loving the laugh it elicits. They keep dancing along to the record until the needle is spinning in place and the sun has long been set.
Husk is floating in that pleasant space between wakefulness and sleep when the door opens and the smell of freshly brewed coffee floats in, making him immediately come to his surroundings. He blinks his eyes open as Angel walks over to the nightstand with two cups in hand.
"Mornin'" Husk grumbles, his morning voice nearly a growl with how deep it is, startling Angel into almost spilling the coffee onto the new white carpet. He knew white would be a bad choice.
"Holy shit, I didn't know it could get any deeper."
Husk laughs and clears his throat. Angel passes one of the mugs to him as he sits up, setting his cup down on the nightstand to cool down. Husk doesn't mind the scalding temperature and takes a big gulp of coffee, hoping it'll do its magic and wake him up fully. The purr-like hum he lets out makes Angel chuckle.
"Back with the living now?" Husk hums again. Angel pats him on the cheek and takes another sip. "Good, because we have a lot to do today."
He groans and tries to bury himself back into the warm sheets but Angel drags him back up by his shoulder. "Half an hour and if you're not ready, then not even God can save you."
Angel pats his cheek again, firmer this time, before disappearing into his bathroom. Husk rests the cup against his lip and inhales the earthy scent, and thinks to himself, ten more minutes.
"And you remember how he never does a good job prepping? Well, he..."
Angel is pacing back and forth as he wipes his face and tugs off his choker, throwing it onto the desk. He's just returned from a shoot with some rookie actor he had complained about the week before, who hadn't taken directions well and ended up doing whatever he wanted. Angel had to smack some sense into him then, so Husk could already picture where this story was going.
"...and he left me hanging! Me !" Angel yells, gesturing at himself. He throws the used wipe towards the bin and it lands right on the edge, hanging limply off it. Angel sits down on the floor in front of Husk who starts unlacing his corset on instinct—being careful to not cut any of the laces this time—as Angel continues his venting. "I know we're in Hell an' all but come on."
"Did you make him regret it?"
"What do you think." Angel winks and pulls the corset off, Husk grins and knows the fucker got what he deserved.
Angel heads for his bathroom, shedding his shirt on the way, and drops it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. The water starts not a second after the door has closed. Husk looks at the clothing littered about his floor and thinks he might as well clean while Angel showers.
He's barely picked up the corset when the door to his bathroom opens with a bang and a dripping-wet Angel, hastily wrapped in a towel, stomps out angrily, muttering something about how he's living with a caveman. He walks out into the hallway and returns after a minute holding a handful of brightly coloured bottles.
He disappears back into the bathroom and Husk wonders what the problem is. His 3-in-1 shampoo has worked fine for him so far.
Angel barges in as he’s watering the plants he got to 'liven up the place'. “Husky, look!”
He's holding up some colourful piece of paper but is waving it around like a madman, making it impossible for Husk to make out what it is. “Will you stop your flailing?”
“Look, look!” Angel stops but still shakes the laminated paper in front of his face. He grabs onto Angel's wrist to steady his shaking arms. It’s one of Angel’s posters, in which he’s posed seductively on a loveseat, legs crossed with two of his hands on his knees and another hand behind his head. He’s wearing a flapper dress and a fur boa, a feather sticking out from his hair. He’s beautiful.
“You look great."
“Great? I look incredible!”
Husk agrees and mentally smacks himself for his stupid choice of words. Genuinely complimenting people's looks has never come naturally to him but he's trying for Angel's sake. God knows he deserves the sincerity from someone who genuinely cares about him.
“It turned out so much better than I expected. I mean, I always look good, but this?" Angel marvels out loud, eyes focused on the poster, tracing the lines of his legs reverently with his finger. "Damn.”
“I could frame it if you want?” Husk offers. Angel stops and stares at him like he’s offered him the moon and the stars, disbelief and wonder in his eyes. Husk vows to protect that hopeful look with his life.
“You would do that?”
Yes, Husk thinks, I would do anything you’d ask of me. “Of course,” is what he says instead and Angel beams.
A few hours later the poster is framed and hung proudly on the wall. Angel hasn’t let go of him since he put it up and Husk has accepted being squeezed to death as long as it’s by the one he loves.
It's been a long night and Husk has just gotten the bar cleaned and closed up.
His eyes are drooping and he wants to just pass out but remembers Angel poking fun at him for his godawful morning breath, so he reluctantly heads for the bathroom instead.
He opens the mirror cabinet and frowns when his toothbrush isn't on the shelf where it should be. He shuffles the various skincare jars and tubes around but still doesn't find a trace of his toothbrush.
With zero energy left to waste looking for it—he'll just have to apologize for his stale breath in the morning—he closes the cabinet with a click. His hand is reaching for the light switch when his eyes land on an unfamiliar cup by the faucet. It's got white raindrops painted on a blue and black base and in it, innocently, sit two toothbrushes—one of them his missing one.
He doesn't remember seeing it before tonight and is too tired to think about this new addition further, so with a shrug he grabs his own toothbrush and goes about the motions. When he's done he places it back in the cup beside the other.
"No animals on the bed."
Angel scoffs. "Hypocritical of ya, Whiskers."
"Call me that again and you won't be sleeping here either."
"Rude!" Angel squawks and hugs Fat Nuggets to his chest. He glares at Husk, who rolls his eyes and looks at the little pig, its head tilting as they make eye contact. He sighs.
"He can stay, but only if you get him his own bed."
Angel considers it for a second and finds it to be an acceptable compromise. He fetches the fluffy purple pet bed and places it by the large potted plant beneath the window. He puts Fat Nuggets down onto it and he curls up immediately, snuggling into the fluff. Angel coos and drops to his knees to give him an excessive amount of kisses.
"Thank you, Whiskers~"
"Yeah, yeah," Husk mutters but smiles despite himself when Angel leans up to kiss him on the cheek as well.
With Angel appeased, they go about their nightly routine, and when Husk wakes in the middle of the night to find Fat Nuggets snuggled in between them, he just sighs and lets him be. Should've figured they were a package deal.
"Say cheese!"
Husk doesn't have time to say anything before a flash goes off and he's blinded for a second. He blinks away the spots and looks up at a grinning Angel waving a polaroid photo back and forth.
"Did I scare ya?"
"No," Husk grunts and pushes at his shoulder.
Angel laughs and pokes his cheek. He stops shaking the photo to watch it develop. "Aw, you're so cute."
He turns the photo towards him. Husk looks caught off guard with his eyes half open in an annoyed expression, his other ear blurry, and brows furrowed. His wing spread out in surprise. It's an awful picture. He says as much.
It's Angel's turn to shove at him now. He holds the photo out of reach as Husk swats for it, missing by a mile. Damn him and his long limbs.
"It's cute," Angel protests, and Husk pouts. "Come on, it's not half bad," Angel offers and Husk looks at the photo again. It really is awful.
They move onto other things, and a few hours later he's forgotten the whole incident, so it takes him a while before he notices the polaroid taped to his wall. Two other pictures sit on either side of it—one of him napping with Fat Nuggets laying on his stomach and one of Angel laying on his bed and holding up his fingers in a heart shape—and he stops himself from tearing it down. If Angel likes it, then it's fine.
It's been six months since their little arrangement began and developed into what it is now.
Angel sleeps over more often than not and Husk's closet has slowly been filling up with clothes far too colorful for his tastes. Where there before was only a few pairs of black slacks, a button-up for special occasions, and an extra pair of suspenders, there is now a myriad of dresses, blouses, and skirts ranging from pinks to purples to blues.
Husk hadn't needed much space to begin with, but seeing the closet filled to the brim does bring a smile to his face.
The rest of his room has also had a makeover over time; new curtains, a potted plant or four, new towels, as well as a handful of pink and red pillows piled against the headboard. Little trinkets are littered all over, covering nearly every available surface.
His room is finally starting to feel like a home.
There's a rushed knock-knock-knock on his door, which is odd as it's been left unlocked for months now and his roommate comes and goes as he pleases. He opens it to find a frazzled Angel looking sheepishly at him. "I can't find my favorite blue dress anywhere and I think I left it in your room," Angel says in a rush and Husk turns to look at the room at large.
He looks at the pile of pillows, the ever-growing wall of polaroids, Fat Nuggets snuggled into his purple bed and the makeup that's now stored neatly in an organizer on top of the dresser. Thinks of the various shampoos and conditioners lining the edge of his bathtub, of his practically overflowing closet that used to be empty, of their toothbrushes sitting side-by-side in the cup on his sink.
Thinks of all the mornings he's woken up to fresh coffee and all of the evenings they've danced together to the classics of their time alive.
Thinks of the jacket that started it all and realizes it's not just his room anymore. Hasn't been for a long time.
Husk turns back to look at Angel, who built this home together with him. "Don't you mean our room?"
And the answering smile that takes over Angel's face is sweeter than anything Heaven could offer.