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Angel came home from the studio, actually feeling okay for once. Valentino had to leave for the day to address other business, leaving Angel mostly in charge of his own day outside of shoots. He’d forgotten what it was like to tolerate his job, much less even enjoy it. Without being ushered away to his changing rooms to be yelled at, he got to talk to the other workers between scenes and rest when everybody else took breaks. He knew it would only last the day, but as tensions in Hell rose and the Vees needed to attend to more business matters, he let himself hope that it could happen more. Satan, they’d begun to rub off their stupid hope for the future bullshit onto him, he’d even stayed clean today.
He kicked the door open dramatically, swooning as he walked through. “Did everybody miss me?” He asked, pausing for dramatic effect with his eyes closed.
A long silence followed, and he opened an eye to see that the lobby was empty except for Husk reading a book on the couch. Something in Russian, judging by the cover.
He was almost convinced Husk hadn’t noticed him, until Husk glanced up for a split second before looking back at his book, realizing his mistake. It didn’t matter, Angel was going to bother him anyway. That’s what he gets for being the only one in the room.
“Hey, Pussycat~” He cooed, laying an arm across the half fo the couch where Husk sat, and craning his neck to look at the book. “Watcha readin’?”
Husk swatted his arm away, but before he could move his hand back down to his book, Angel had leaned over into the space between his arm and torso, draping himself across Husk.
“Get off, freak.” He grunted, closing his book and leaning forward so Angel almost fell onto the floor.
“Okay, okay, I get it!” He yelped, getting off of Husk. Husk laughed, reaching over to place his book on the arm of the couch. “I lost my page, asshole.” He huffed.
“Woah, where did you get that ? Angel gaped, pulling Husk’s arm up.
“Huh?”
“That scar? Did someone steal your ribs?” He brushed Husk’s fur back to see a scar running below one side of his chest.
Husk barked out a laugh, looking over at Angel incredulously, and laughing harder when he met Angel’s expression of genuine confusion.
“I express concern for ya, and all ya do is laugh in my face? What happened!?” Angel nearly begged, voice rising to be heard over Husk’s scratchy laughter. This was the hardest he’d ever seen the cat laugh, his paws clutching his chest as he doubled over himself. His tail curled around itself humorously, flicking against Angel’s hand as it coiled behind the other man.
“Angel, th-” He had to wipe a tear from his eye and start again. “Angel, those are top surgery scars.”
He sat up and turned to face Angel, pulling the fur back on his other side to reveal a matching scar. “I’m trans.”
“Oh?” Angel replied, letting the words process. “OH!” He exclaimed. Then he became embarrassed, burying his face in his hands and slouching against the cushion behind him. “Oh.”
Husk was still wheezing out laughter beside him, his muzzle buried in one of his paws.
“I guess I didn’t- you don’t look- I mean, not that any trans person looks any certain way, I do drag, I’d know, but ya never bring it up, ya know?”
“Why should I? I’ve been a man the entire time I’ve been in hell and then some. It’s probably part of why I’m here, testosterone ain’t easy to come by in the forties. It was also pretty experimental at the time, I dunno how I walked out of that fine, but it’s much better understood now.” He laughed again as Angel looked down at him in wonder. “It’s fine, most people don’t know, by the sixties it was less experimental, and when I died and came here it was barely restricted. That’s one of the few good things about this place, no one gave a shit.”
Angel nodded. “Used to wonder if I might be trans, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. When the separate terms got more common a few of my acquaintances in the same circles transitioned, but I don’t think I was meant to be a girl. I know more about what it means now, though.” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Sorry about asking, that wasn’t any of my business.”
Husk shook his head. “No, that was funny, you’re fine. I guess I almost forgot, because people haven’t brought it up in so long. It’s just never been an issue here, so I didn’t need to justify it to people the way I did when I was alive. I’ve practically forgotten what it’s like to be a girl.” He paused, and then smiled again, something glinting in his eyes. “Alastor was the one who gave me top surgery, actually. It was part of our deal.”
Angel snorted. “You’re kidding me. You let him do that?”
Husk nodded. “He ain’t a professional surgeon, but he’s nothing if not true to his word, and he knew a thing or two about cutting people open, I suppose. Definitely embarrassing that I went along with that, but there’s only so many trustworthy surgeons in Pride, and I knew none of ‘em. I was also pretty full of myself at the time, so there’s that. At least something good came of that stupid deal. Wouldn’t take Alastor for an ally, but he’s actually great in that regard, or at the very least doesn’t care enough to be awful.” He reached over the couch, pulled out a bottle he had put there earlier, and took a drink. Angel was too shocked by the rest of his story to even register the whiskey Husk had pulled out of seemingly nowhere.
“You need to tell me more about your life than you do, you’re insane.”
Husk smiled. “I might. It’s funnier to do this to you, though.”
“Does anyone else know? I don’t want to like, out you if it comes up, I don’t know what your thoughts on that are…”
“Only Vaggie, Niffty and Alastor as far as I’m aware, but I don’t mind if more people know. I don’t mind if all of hell knows. I’ve been a man for about 80 years and I’m not about to stop.” He paused, looking over at Angel for a moment, waiting. “And yes, I have a dick.”
Angel almost laughed, but thought better of it. “You didn’t need to tell me that, I was trying so hard to restrain myself.”
“I know.” There was another long beat of silence before the cat spoke again. “Thanks for being normal about it. I mean, that’s a low bar to clear, and I haven’t had to deal with transphobia in a while, but you’re important to me and I didn’t want your opinion of me to change or somethin’.” He’s quiet, and his voice is so low Angel strains to hear him.
“Why are you thanking me? I’d be like, the biggest asshole on the planet if I thought differently of you.” The spider waves his hands around exaggeratedly while proving his point. “I could be more educated about it, sure, but it’s… what, 2020-somethin’ now? Humans got touchscreen soap dispensers and you still gotta worry about me bein’ transphobic?”
Husk shrugged. “I know, I know. I just… haven’t done this in a while. It's nice to know I don't need to worry.” He sighs and leans back on the couch again, passing the bottle to Angel to continue conversation. “Want some?”
“Thought you’d never ask, Whiskers.” Angel responded, grabbing it out of his claws.