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It's out before he can even think about it, fully instinctual. What had been on the tip of his tongue was "understood", bathed in genuine fear and confusion over what was going on, confusion over why his partner of three fucking decades was acting so out of character and blowing off his concerns, and a very real want to just submit so the other would back off and he could take a minute or twenty to just breathe and process and go back to the bar and pretend everything was perfectly fine.
Instead he's found himself all but breathing out his safe word, in a situation that is technically not a scene, but their relationship is so deeply rooted in his very real need to submit and his partner's just as deep-rooted need to be in control of at least one aspect of his life at all times that sometimes it's easy to forget.
Just like he has now, and he braces himself for the mockery that is sure to come.
Instead, the weight of the chains around his neck vanishes abruptly and the sound of shuffling feet meet his flattened ears even as he watches Alastor's expression shift from vicious frustration to something akin to horrified.
If he's being honest with himself, he has been on edge ever since his return.
He's locked into a deal he has yet to see his way out of, he hasn't had a moment to unwind given that his... benefactor wants results immediately if not sooner, he needs to get the Princess of Hell on his side since he's fairly certain she has the power to break the contract he's currently locked into, and now said princess's father, Lucifer himself, has 'graced' them with his presence which makes his afterlife that much more difficult.
All he really wants, aside from breaking his contract, is to lock himself in his radio station -- preferably wrapped securely around his partner, the other demon is rather comfortable to lie on -- and just sleep for the next two months.
But no, there's not time for that either, because the next Extermination Day has been moved up and is literally a month away, plus now Mimzy has dropped by to bring who in Hell knows what on her trail.
So he's all too eager to brush away Husker's concerns, breezing by the fact that he literally cannot tell his partner where he's been due to the nature of his contract, the most he'd been able to do was let the chimera know there is one in place aside from the one between them, and turns to once again join the tour that Charlie is giving to her father.
He just barely catches the words, even though they were probably just meant to be a frustrated murmur before Husker heads back to the bar, simply to blow off some steam at being pushed aside once more without any intention of starting an argument:
"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash."
And then there's just a haze of rage.
How dare he? Does he not realize who the fuck Alastor is?!
"What did you say?"
The chains are summoned without even a thought, his hands gripping them and yanking, uncaring at the thud as the chimera hits the floor. There is no thought in his mind except for fury and annoyance, the frustration that has been building during his forced absence and his continued endless activity since his return, and the need to remind even one sinner of just who the fuck he is.
"Nothing!" Husker says, his voice thready. "I just, uh--"
"If you ever say that again," Alastor replies, his own voice growing thick with static, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me."
"Vermillion."
It's barely breathed, gold on black eyes blown wide, locked on his own burning red, and abruptly everything
just
stops.
The first clear thought he has is, What am I doing?! It's immediately followed by horror and guilt, and he takes a hesitant step back rather than follow his instinct to drag his Husker, his submissive, his dearest into his arms and breathe out apologies into the fur of the other's neck for crossing a line he would have never dared approach had he been thinking clearly.
Given the way the chimera is trembling, that would not be welcome right now.
Alastor takes another half-step backward before dropping to the floor, somehow making the collapse look graceful. The silence between them is loud, as if Husk managed to mute the entirety of Hell with that one word, and neither of them attempts to break it for what seems like minutes but is likely only seconds.
The chimera takes in a breath, holds it for a count of ten, lets it out then repeats a few more times, his trembling slowing as he keeps his gaze locked on the other demon. For his part, Alastor is holding himself so still that he doesn't appear to be breathing; rather, he is simply watching Husk and waiting for some sign that he can move without sending the other into another panic attack.
It takes a moment, maybe a full minute (and really, it's a miracle that no one's wondered where either of them is yet) before Husk trusts his instincts enough to give a small nod. The motion is barely complete before Alastor dissolves into the shadows for a split second only to slide back out right in Husk's space, wrapping himself around the chimera and pressing his face into the thick fur of his neck with a shuddering breath. Husk responds by dropping his own head to Alastor's shoulder, arms coming up to wrap around his waist and wings mantling over the both of them in a make-shift shelter from the world around them.
"Husker," the deer demon whispers, radio feedback completely absent from his voice. "Oh, mon amour, mwen regrèt anpil..."
"No no, shh, stop that," the chimera murmurs back, tightening his hold. "'m okay, you stopped, baby. We're okay. We're good, honey."
Alastor makes a sound of disagreement, punctuating it with a slight nip of sharp teeth at Husk's neck before pulling himself more upright. He doesn't pull away entirely, if anything he tugs the chimera impossibly closer, and forces himself to meet his partner's golden gaze. "I crossed a line," he says quietly.
"You weren't the only one," Husk replies, and they both know it's true. "Al, talk to me. Is it The Contract?" At the Radio Demon's flinch, he just sighs. "For the record, I'm still pissed that I found out you were back after vanishing for seven fucking years by you just teleporting me into the hotel's goddamn lobby."
That remark gets the intended snicker, and a faint twitch of the familiar grin. "I wanted to see you, darling. And I didn't have the time to track you down as I would have preferred."
What goes unsaid, and is understood between the lines, is I couldn't have taken the time even if I'd wanted to. Another caveat in whatever the other has gotten them both mixed up in; it's a minor miracle that Alastor was able to even mention the Contract at this rate.
"After Mimzy fucks off," and he has to grin a little at the sharp little ha that draws from his partner, "and Charlie's old man leaves, we're going to take the night off. Just lock ourselves away, tell everyone here to piss off for twelve hours, and sleep. And after that--"
"If you want to break our arrangement..."
Husk blinks. "What? No! Where the fuck did you get that idea?"
"Husker." And now Alastor is looking at him like he's the dumb one here. "I threatened to tear your soul apart like any random sinner who fails to show me the proper respect."
"Yes, and you backed off when I told you to. Besides," the chimera gives a slight shrug even as he lowers his wings to drape over Alastor's back, "half those sinners you tore apart for failing to show me a little respect. You scared me, yeah; but I'll always trust you to stop when I need you to.
"Besides," he adds with a grin, "if I was gonna give up on us, I would have done it when you abandoned me without a word seven years ago."
Oh, now he looks appalled. "Cher, I didn't exactly plan on leaving you."
Husk snorts and leans forward to press his forehead to Alastor's. "I know that, baby. Still not leaving you for shit we can work through if we have five minutes and some sleep." He hesitates for a moment before swiping his tongue across the other demon's neck, a low purr rumbling in his throat. "And on that note," he remarks wryly, "we've lucked out so far but I don't trust that one of our friendly band of idiots won't suddenly miss us in the next couple of minutes."
The Radio Demon lets out an annoyed buzz of static, tightening his hold on the chimera for a moment before letting himself slide back into the shadows again. Seconds later he's back on two feet, twirling his microphone cane idly in one hand. Husk quirks a feathered brow and stands up as well, brushing his pants off absently.
"Well, then, my dearest," Alastor says, the faint hum of static back in his voice, "I really must get back to our dear proprietress and her father, and you should head back to manning the lobby in anticipation of dear Mimzy's guests arriving."
"Ha, you just want an excuse to fuck someone up."
Alastor's grin stretches wide, and all he can do is laugh for a moment. "Well, it is always nice to catch up with old friends."
It's the little things that make the afterlife worthwhile:
Being able to let out his frustrations on the loan sharks that had shown up looking for Mimzy, thereby threatening the safety of all those within the hotel, and reminding Hell of just who he is.
Glancing over momentarily during his minor rampage to see his darling sitting off to one side with Valentino's thrall (and really, they must do something about Vox's little conglomerate, especially the moth who once made an attempt to bind his Husker in a contract before Alastor realized there was a potential rival in play) and the snake with drinks and snacks enjoying the show.
Mimzy leaving in a huff after he tells he that unless she actually plans to take a shot at redemption then she can fuck off, if not in so many words.
Lucifer's discomfort at the display but his willingness to offer what help he can to Charlie in her effort to make Heaven see that redemption is possible for sinner demons.
That last one is tangential, since Alastor is quite content with his lot, and he knows that his beloved is likewise happy with their standing in Hell's hierarchy.
But at last, those who don't belong -- and really, he likes Charlie, but her father is an outlier that he can't account for in his efforts to gain her trust and make a Deal with her in hopes of breaking this damnable Contract -- have left and the residents have begun to make their way to their rooms for the night. Angel Dust and Sir Pentious are the last to head off, still engaged in a conversation about that darling friend of the spider's that enjoys explosives, and finally they're alone.
Alastor sends off one of his shadows to confirm that there's no one still roaming about (he wouldn't put it past Niffty, she's been known to crawl through the walls while tracking down roaches and has no compunctions about popping out should she spot her favorite sinners) before leaning across the bar where Husker is wiping down a few glasses and scratches between the other man's ears. He's rewarded with a rumbling purr and his grin brightens.
"Can't give me two minutes, huh?" Husker huffs, pretending at being annoyed but the relaxed set of his ears, the slow swish of his tail, and the slow blink he shoots towards the Radio Demon prove him to be a liar.
"But dearest, you promised a night off," Alastor says, letting the static drop from his voice and taking on a more sing-song quality. He chuckles softly at the way his partner's feathers ruffle up at the tone, and adds, "I need my soft kitten purrs and cuddles, cher."
"Ugh, fine," the chimera huffs, the swish of his tail betraying his words. "I guess fuck cleaning up the bar tonight."
"Lovely," he replies, and shadow-shifts the both of them to his room.
Neither of them will be seen until sometime around noon the next day, and neither actually answers any questions about where they'd been the entire morning.