Chapter Text
The neon-lit bar of the Hazbin Hotel began to wind down as the night grew deeper. The last few patrons were finishing their drinks, the newcomers slowly finding their place in the hotel’s odd but welcoming community. Behind the counter, Husk wiped down the last of the glasses, his feline features illuminated by the dim, flickering lights. It had been another long night of serving drinks and listening to the woes of Hell’s residents. He sighed, his tattered wings drooping slightly with fatigue.
Since Adam's death in the last extermination, Charlie and Emily announced that Heaven would no longer exterminate sinners. They also provided proof from Sir Pentious that a sinner had a chance for redemption and could go to Heaven. Since then, some of the sinners have decided to give the Hazbin Hotel a shot, genuinely trying to redeem themselves now that they know they can actually make it to Heaven. Maybe they might even have a chance to see their beloved ones or family members from whom they were separated when they ended up in Hell as sinners.
Across the bar, Angel lounged on a stool, his multiple arms resting on the counter, his vibrant appearance a stark contrast to Husk’s weariness. His white fur and pink accents glowed under the bar's dim lights, but his usual playful demeanour was subdued tonight. He watched Husk with a mixture of concern and fondness, sensing the bartender's fatigue.
“Hey Husky, you look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Angel said, his voice softer than usual, though still carrying a hint of his characteristic sass.
Husk grunted, setting the last glass down and leaning against the counter. “Long night, Angel. These redemption seekers are more talkative than the usual crowd.”
Angel chuckled, but it was a low, almost melancholic sound. “Yeah, everyone’s got a sob story now, huh? ‘Oh, I wanna see my family again, oh, I wanna go to Heaven.’” He mimicked, rolling his eyes, but there was a sadness beneath the mockery.
Husk raised an eyebrow, sensing the change in Angel’s tone while pouring himself a drink from his personal stash and offering it to Angel. “What’s eatin’ you, Angel? You’re not usually this… reflective.”
Angel took the drink with a grateful smile, but his eyes were distant. “Just thinking about all these changes, you know? Everyone’s got a chance to go to Heaven now. Makes you wonder if we’re all just wasting our time down here.”
Husk's ears perked up slightly, and he gave Angel a sidelong glance. “Wasting time? You? That’s a first.” He smirked, but there was no bite to his words.
Angel rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, keep it coming, Husky. Guess I’ve just been thinking about what I really want, y’know?”
Husk looked at him more closely, noticing the uncharacteristic vulnerability. “And what’s that? What do you want, Angel?”
Angel hesitated, swirling the drink in his glass. “Maybe… maybe I want something more than just the usual crap. Maybe I want something real.”
Husk frowned, trying to read between the lines. “Like what? Are you talking about redemption or something else?”
Angel looked away, the neon lights casting shadows on his face. “I’m not really sure, Husky. It’s just… everyone’s so focused on getting to Heaven. It’s like they’re all chasing this big dream, but what if I just want something… closer?”
Husk leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he tried to understand. “Closer, huh? Like finding some kind of purpose down here?”
Angel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve spent so long just floating around, doing whatever. But lately, I’ve been thinking maybe there’s more to all this. More to me.”
Husk took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze steady on Angel. “You saying you want to find something that matters? Someone who matters? Like love?”
Angel’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked it with a chuckle, his usual sass returning. “Love? Geez, Husky, going straight for the big stuff, huh? But yeah, I guess I mean something along those lines. Just... someone who gets me, you know?”
Husk smirked, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Didn’t peg you for the sentimental type, Angel. But hey, everyone’s got their thing.”
Angel shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well, even a glamorous spider like me needs more than just sex and parties. Sometimes, I think it’d be nice to have someone who actually gives a damn." He twirled a lock of hair, feigning nonchalance, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
Husk nodded slowly, his usual gruff demeanour softening just a bit. "Yeah, I get that. This place can be lonely as hell, pun intended. Finding someone who really sees you... it’s a rare thing." He took a sip from his drink, eyes reflecting a deep-seated weariness.
"Maybe." Angel’s gaze lingered on Husk, a mix of hope and resignation in his eyes. Suddenly, a spark of curiosity flared within him. "What about you, Husk? Have you ever thought about it? Trying to love again, I mean?" His voice wavered slightly, betraying the casual front he was trying to maintain.
"Nah," Husk replied with a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "I already gave up on that a long time ago. Lost the ability to love." He glanced away, the pain of old wounds evident in his tone.
Angel felt a pang of something he couldn't quite identify—was it sadness or something else? "Yeah, I guess you're kinda right." He forced a laugh, but it lacked its usual sparkle.
Husk noticed the change in Angel's expression, his concern deepening. "You okay, Angel?" He reached out, his rough exterior momentarily giving way to genuine care.
Angel quickly masked his emotions, flashing a teasing grin. "Of course, I'm okay. Takes more than a little heart-to-heart to knock me off my game." He winked, trying to lighten the mood.
Husk raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. "If you say so." He gave Angel a reassuring pat on the back. "Just so you know, I’ve got your back. I might have given up, but that doesn’t mean you have to. Who knows, maybe you can actually get out of Val's grip and find someone who really gets you."
Angel's heart ached more hearing Husk's words. The thought of having a good love life was something he wanted, but he realised with a pang of confusion and longing that he wanted it with Husk, not someone else. Wait, what? Why with Husk?
Angel tried to push the thought away, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind. The idea that he might have feelings for Husk was both terrifying and confusing.
Angel forced a smile. "Thanks, Husky. Who knows what will happen in the future," he replied, trying to keep his tone light. "Let’s cheer for a better tomorrow."
"Cheers," Husk replied, raising his glass.
As the night grew deeper, the conversation between Husk and Angel gradually returned to its usual banter, though a subtle undercurrent of their earlier exchange remained. The bar was now completely empty, with the last guests having left hours ago, and Husk began to tidy up, putting away bottles and wiping down surfaces. Angel watched him quietly, feeling a strange mix of emotions he couldn't quite decipher.
Finally, Husk looked up and stretched, his wings rustling slightly. "Well, Angel, I think it's time to call it a night. Been a long day, and we both could use some rest."
Angel Dust nodded, sliding off his stool with a graceful motion. "Yeah, you're right, Husky. Need my beauty sleep after all," he said with a wink, though the usual flamboyance in his tone was muted.
Husk smirked and shook his head. "Always the diva." He walked around the bar and gestured towards the exit. "Come on, I'll walk you to your room. Can't have you getting lost in your own hotel."
Angel laughed, the sound more genuine this time. "Please, like I could ever get lost. But I appreciate the escort."
They walked through the dimly lit corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, the neon lights casting an otherworldly glow around them. The silence between them was comfortable, a testament to the growing bond they shared.
When they reached Angel's room, he paused at the door and turned to face Husk. "Thanks for the company, Husky. And for the talk. It… meant a lot."
Husk nodded, his expression softening. "Anytime, Angel. Get some rest, alright? Goodnight, Angel," Husk said, giving him a small smile.
"Goodnight, Husky," Angel replied, his voice softer than usual. He watched as Husk turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway.
Inside his room, Angel flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep didn't come easily. His mind kept replaying the conversation, particularly the part about Husk losing the ability to love. The thought gnawed at him, making his heart and throat ache.
Why does it bother me so much? Angel wondered. He tried to push the feelings aside, but they kept resurfacing, stronger each time. Memories of Husk came flooding back—how he had been there during Angel's lowest moments, cheering him up, giving him a sense of identity and belonging when he needed it the most.
Fat Nuggets, Angel's beloved pet pig, trotted over and nuzzled against Angel's side, sensing his distress. Angel absentmindedly stroked Fat Nuggets' soft fur, finding a small measure of comfort in the familiar presence.
Angel remembered the nights spent talking with Husk, sharing secrets and dreams, the quiet support Husk had always offered. Realisation began to dawn on him, but it was still clouded with confusion and a hint of denial. Could it be that he had deeper feelings for Husk? The idea both scared and intrigued him.
As the hours ticked by, Angel turned on his side, clutching a pillow tightly. Fat Nuggets curled up beside him, a warm and reassuring weight. The thought of Husk's disinterest in love made Angel restless. He had to figure out his feelings, and soon. For now, he tried to find comfort in the fact that Husk had always been there for him. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more between them that he hadn't yet understood.
But doubt crept in, whispering insidiously. Angel couldn't shake the feeling that his love for Husk would never be reciprocated. After all, Husk had referred to both of them as "losers". How could he love a loser, right? The thought gnawed at Angel's heart even more.
Determined to push the discomfort aside, Angel forced himself to ignore the pain and try to sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind racing with insecurities and fears. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and he managed to drift into a restless sleep.
But as he slept, something insidious began to take root. Unbeknownst to him, delicate, pale white small flowers started to grow within his throat, a cruel manifestation of his unspoken love and heartache. The hanahaki disease was beginning its silent, painful bloom, hidden beneath the surface of his restless dreams.