Work Text:
When Angel tumbles through the doors at 2:03 AM sharp, Husk takes it upon himself to help him. He doesn't know the exact reason, except for the fact that the spider is half-naked, and looks tired to his bones. He looks used and filthy, and his delicate, pretty fur has fluids matted into it that Husk can't bear to think about.
Angel has his robe haphazardly tied around his waist, with the sleeves loosely wrapping his shoulders. Husk is already throwing together Angel's favorite martini when the man plops into his now designated bar stool, and waves his top two hands at Husk.
"Nah, kitty, not tonight," he rasps. And Husk is taken aback, both because this has never happened before, and also due to Angel sounding Satan-awful.
"No? Well, then. Something big must've happened for you to refuse a drink, eh?" Husk cracks a small smile, but the concern and wariness for his friend is clear in his voice.
Angel's eyes shift from the bar counter to Husk's eyes. "Oh, uh. Not really, heh. Just anotha long shoot, y'know?" Angel tries to smile back, but it looks forced, and by now, Husk knows better than anyone what that statement really meant. It meant, I need some help. Don't go. He uses me, and you don't, so can I please just talk to you?
Husk just nods, taking in the state of the long-legged demon, then sighs. "Well, I was really just waiting for you, so let me close up here, and we can go to either one of our rooms. If that's what you want, of course."
When Angel hesitates, Husk picks up on the possible double meaning his words could have meant, and rushes to correct himself. "Oh, shit, not like that, Angie. I was just sayin'--" He takes a breath, "I was just sayin' that if you wanted to talk, I'm. I'm here, yeah?" The cat rumbles out, nearly whispering the last parts.
Angel smiles, grateful. "Yeah, I'd love to, thank you."
Husk shuts down the lights at the bar and makes his way around the counter, offering a bent arm for Angel to take if need be. No questions, no looks, just kindness. Angel almost gets misty-eyed thinking about it. He slots his arm in with the bartender's without a word and they start towards the elevator. And even though the spider feels slightly embarrassed letting Husk see him like this, with shaky limbs and tangled hair, he decides to ignore his thoughts. Just because deep down, he knows that his friend would never judge him for something like this.
"Which room?" Husk asks. Angel blinks down at him, shocked.
"Mine's uh.. Mine's fine." No one ever cared about things like that when it came to him. No one. But Husk did. Husk always did. Angel furrows his brows, thinking. He felt his heart in his throat, and man, was it pounding. His face felt warm and his eyes were unfocused, but it didn't feel bad this time. It felt good. Really good. His breath started coming faster, and all four visible hands started sweating. He had only felt this feeling once before, when he was alive, but never this powerful. Even so, he knows what it is all too well.
Before he can stop himself, word vomit is falling out of his mouth, and forming into the words of,
"I think I love you."
He feels his eyes widen and Husk's breathing hitch. "Oh shit–"
"Really, Angie?"
"The fuck you mean, 'really'?"
"You ain't fuckin' with me?"
Angel scoffs, "As if."
"Well I love you too, so there."
And there's no need for explanation, because they work. In their funny, weird ways, they work.
The rest of the ride up is silent, save for the beeping of the elevator as floors pass, and Angel's giddy heartbeat that the cat's sensitive ears pick up on easily. It makes him smile even more.
Angel's room is a polar opposite to Husk's, with pink LEDs and posters, and an unmatched vibe of frilliness attached to it. Not that Husk necessarily minded. It was a nice change of pace, considering his own room was dull and decrepit, not a wall decoration in sight except for piled up bottles that weren't yet cleared – shocking, with Niffty being such a clean freak.
Angel nearly threw himself onto his bed, but a strong arm caught him before he could hit the mattress.
"Hold on, now. I can't let you go to bed like that."
Angel groaned about it, "Well whaddya want me to do, whiskas? I'm tired as tits."
Husk snorted, gesturing to the bathroom, "I can help if you need me to."
Angel pondered for a moment, before nodding his head, he wasn't really all that worried. He knew Husk, and they both loved each other, he knew no one would try anything.
In a blink, Angel was in the tub, getting water poured over his hair, and having claws used as a comb, undoing all tangles and getting out Satan-knows-what nastiness that was caked into his body throughout the day. Angel let his shoulders relax. This, he could get used to.
They both sprawled across the bed, now in pajamas, fingers slightly dancing together, and the fan blowing cool breeze onto their smiling faces. Suddenly, Anthony spoke.
"Do you ever miss being alive?"
Husk took a moment. "I guess, sometimes. Why?"
"Jus' thinkin'. My nonna used to make us anything me and my siblings would ask for, like this chicken piccata that she would somehow whip up whenever we wanted it. She knew it was our favorite. And now, I don't even see my brother anymore, and I just know that Molly ain't down 'ere." Anthony trailed off, looking over at Husk.
"My name's Anthony, by the way. Thought you should know." His words were slow and intentional; it was obvious he hadn't spoken lightly.
Husk brought one of Anthony's hands up to his lips, kissing the fingertips, "What a beautiful name, 'Tony."
Anthony's heart just about melted right there, but Husk kept talking.
"I suppose I miss my dog. And the freedom I had alive," This Angel nodded at, "But mainly my dog. I didn't have a great time with my family, and he was a great pup. His name was Vince. He was always there for me, y'know?"
Anthony was looking right at Husk when he said, "Yeah, I really do."
The bartender huffed out a laugh, turning on his side to face his companion. "But, I don't miss being alive as much as I love being dead. Because I have you, and I think that when it comes down to it, you're all I'll ever need, Anthony."
Anthony's lip is wobbling and there are tears threatening to fall from those two sentences, as he pulls Husk in for a hug. He feels a warm kiss planted on his head, and then when the hug comes apart, there's one planted on his lips, as well. They lean into each other, content.
Yeah, they'll be just fine.