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Summary
“Should we toast? Are people still doin’ that?”
Angel grins and lifts his own mug to tap against Husk’s. “Yeah. To good music?”
“Good company,” Husk adds, taking a deep sip of his cocoa. The peppermint shoots straight up his nose, burning and brisk – Angel must have used the top-shelf stuff.
“Good booze.”
“Good…” Husk cuts himself off, unable to think of another filler. “Somethin’. I dunno, help me out here.”
“Good sex,” Angel finishes, and gulps down half of his drink.
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It's Christmas Eve, and Husk's not feeling in the spirit of the season. Luckily, Angel's got an endless supply of peppermint liqueur and Husk's got a few promises left to make good on.