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Angel Dust marched into the hotel one evening, slamming the ornate doors behind him to his own vexation, because the sound exacerbated his already growing migraine. He expected to just be able to scoot over to the bar as he usually does when he gets back from a long day at work, but to his own surprise, he looked up to see the entire hotel’s population staring back at him. Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer, and Pentious were all in the parlor. Husk was at his usual spot behind the bar, and both Niffty and Cherri Bomb were seated on stools in front of him, his usual seat still open. There was cheery romantic music playing, trays of food set on the tiny coffee table, and everyone was dressed in their party clothes, all in shades of reds, pinks, purples and whites.
Well fuck. It was February 14th already.
Angel knew this day was coming. Valentino had him working doubles for the past ten days straight, as well as attending industry parties every single night. No rest for the wicked… or the soul’s they own, apparently. Charlie had also been decorating every single inch of the hotel with hearts and streamers and ugly little cupids for at least a week, Angel coming home to a gaudier and gaudier display each night morning that he made it home.
Even after all of this, the day still snuck up on him somehow.
Angel truly hated Valentine’s Day.
After standing with his back to the front doors and staring back at everyone like a dumbass in headlights, Angel made a beeline for the stairs without saying a single word. He made sure to glance at Cherri and Husk as he passed the bar, and they both gave him a nod of understanding. It clearly wasn’t a good day for him and both the cyclops and the feline knew when he needed his space.
“Angel! You’re back earlier than usual! I didn’t know if you would ma–” Charlie cut off her own sentence as Angel stormed past her without a word.
As soon as he placed his hand on the bannister, Angel could hear Vaggie yell behind him, “Hey! We expect to see you back down here tonight! Hotel events are required for everyone, remember…” Angel ignored her, with the exception of a pointed middle finger thrown her way behind his back, and took the steps up three at a time (thank God for these long ass legs) not giving a fuck about whatever Vagina is spouting out now. If they wanted to kick him out of the hotel over one missed party, then fine, do it (they wouldn’t).
In no time at all, the spider is able to make it into his own room, closing the door behind him, softly this time, and is immediately greeted by excited oinks from his sweet baby boy. “Hey there, Nuggsie, I made it home early today. C’mere my baby…” Angel scooped Fat Nuggets up before sliding to the floor, exhausted.
“I fuckin’ hate today. Valentine's Day is so stupid. Who wants to celebrate that shit anyways right?” he says to the mini hellhog. Fat Nuggets just stares back up at him wide eyed, and gives a little snort. “Yeah, see, you get it. Fuck all that lovey dovey shit!”
He continues to cradle the pig in his lower arms as he massages his migraine with his upper hands. The craving for a relaxing pill or powder is strong at the moment, but Angel has been sober for a few months now (well, mostly sober, no thanks to Val), and he really isn’t interested in screwing his shit up. At least not this soon. But he doesn’t have anything else to distract him from the particularly sharp emptiness he’s feeling at the moment.
Turning back to the hyper piggy wriggling in his arms, he says, “Hey Nuggsie, what d’ya say to a little spa night? Then we can watch a movie and eat treats, sound good?” Fat Nuggets squeals excitedly and jumps out of Angel's arms to run in tiny circles with joy. The hellhog was smart enough to learn what “spa” and “treat” mean, as they have become two of his favorite things to do with his papa.
Angel smiles warmly at his baby and gets the motivation he needs to finally get up off the floor. He undresses quickly and heads in the bathroom, Fat Nuggets hot on his heels. Angel bathes and pampers his pet first, wrapping him in his little pig sized fuzzy robe and setting him in the terrycloth pet bed he keeps in the bathroom, before sinking into a luxurious hot bubble bath for himself. The tub is filled with his favorite soaps and oils, the expensive ones that he only breaks out for special occasions. Staying locked in your room, hiding away from the worst holiday in existence is occasion enough in his opinion.
The bath did a lot to relax his sore muscles and take the edge off his migraine, though not curing it. It will have to do for now. Once the water grows tepid, he dries off, brushes his hair, and slips into his favorite pair of pajamas: an oversized super soft blanket lined hot pink hoodie (with a matching one for Fat Nuggets, of course!), black shorts with a pink trim and spider web decal on the front, and his white knee high fuzzy socks covered in little pink pigs.
Before getting comfy, Angel took a few minutes to scroll through Voxflix for something to watch. He chose Dirty Dancing, a topside movie Cherri put him on to, and quickly became one of his favorites. The film was set in the 1960s, which was way after his own time, but still had enough of a nostalgic feel to it that he very much enjoyed. The songs were great, the dancing was amazing, and he loved hearing Cherri ramble on about how Jennifer Grey never needed a nose job; she looked way better with her natural face. Also, Angel wasn’t complaining about having to watch Patrick Swayze move in those tight, tight pants.
After filling a food bowl and topping it with some extra hellhog treats for Fat Nuggets, Angel realized he didn’t have any snacks for himself. And he was not risking going down to the kitchen himself and getting caught by Vaggie or even Alastor. He just couldn’t deal with being forced to sit through another bullshit party, Charlie's golden star stickers be damned.
He thought of texting Cherri for assistance, but knowing her, she was already too drunk to text back. Plus he knew Pentious was probably spending the entire night building up enough courage to talk to her, and he didn’t want to double-cock block him. He needed all the help he could get.
Instead, Angel chose to shoot a quick text to Husk, hoping he wasn’t too busy working.
Me: (10:44pm)
hey Whiskers
ya mind askin Niff to bring me up sum
chocolate ice cream n chips plz ?
thx babycakes 😘
Huskyyy 😻👅💦: (10:47pm)
[READ]
Angel flopped back on his bed and waited, not wanting to start the movie without his goodies. Niffty moved extremely fast at all times, so he knew it wouldn’t take long, 2 or 3 minutes tops. He scrolled through social media for about 10 minutes before realizing that Niffty still hadn’t come, which was extremely unusual. Just as he was about to get up and see what was taking so long, there was a knock at the door.
Relieved and lying back down to his former position, Angel shouted out, “It’s open! C’mon in short stack…”
“Hey now, you may be taller’an me, but I ain’t that short,” said a baritone voice that definitely did NOT belong to the tiny maid.
Angel shot up from his resting place, a bit too fast because he rattled the dull migraine in the back of his head again, making it worse. Wincing with one hand to the side of his skull, the spider laid eyes on his favorite bartender standing in his doorway, a large tub of ice cream and a family-size bag of chips in one arm, his other holding a bottle of expensive-looking tequila.
“Holy fuck, Whiskers, ya scared me. What’re ya doin’ up here? Ain’t ya supposed to be workin’? I don't wanna get ya in trouble wit’ Al or nothin’...”
“Eh, don’t worry about that. Al is nearly drunk off his ass and havin’ an angry staring contest with the king right now. Vaggie and the Princess are slow dancin’, and Pentious finally got Cherri to hang out with him, though I think Niffty might be third wheelin’ ‘em,” Husk chuckled, and something in Angel’s chest did a small flip at the sound. “Anyways, I left a big bowl of spiked punch out for everyone, made it extra strong too. They won’t even notice I’m gone.”
There was a brief pause where the two just looked at each other, unsure of what to say or do next. Husk broke the silence. “So, um… can I come in? Or if you want me to just drop these off ‘n go, that’s okay too, I don’t wanna–”
“No! Don’t– I mean, yes. You can come in. I want you to stay,” Angel said in an unusually small voice. He slid a resting Fat Nuggets over closer to himself and patted the space on the comforter next to him, inviting Husk to sit.
Husk hesitates for just a moment before stepping over the threshold, closing the door behind him with his tail. He tucks his wings tight behind his back before taking a seat on the other side of Angel’s bed, not wanting to invade the spider’s space too much.
Angel snatches the bottle from Husk’s hand while he’s distracted. Holding the bottle up to the light and inspecting the bottle’s label, Angel’s eyes grow in shock, “Woooowww, this is the good stuff! Top shelf reposado for lil’ ol’ me? You shouldn’t have!” With a dramatically bent wrist, Angel’s places one hand over his chest, as if he’s clutching invisible pearls.
Husk rolls his eyes but can’t stop the corner of his mouth from turning up. “Please shut the hell up, it’s no big deal. Oh ! I almost forgot…” He places the snacks between himself and Angel, and fishes two spoons out of his pocket, handing one over.
“Two spoons Husky? You knew I was gonna ask ya ta’ stay, huh?” Angel asks in a testing tone.
Husk’s cheeks flushes the lightest shade of pink under his whiskers, and he hopes Angel doesn’t notice since they are sitting under his neon pink fairy lights (he does). “Uh, I– no, that’s not it,” the bartender clears his throat. “But… I was hopeful. No one should be alone on a day like today.”
“Hmph…” Angel rips open the bags of chips with a little more force than what is necessary. “It ain't the end of the world. People can survive being alone on this stupid holiday. I’ve done it every single year of my existence and I'm just fine!” He takes a handful of chips and starts stuffing his face, not making eye contact with the older man next to him.
“Riiiiight…” Husk says sarcastically, watching Angel’s profile. “You definitely sound like someone who isn’t annoyed by bein’ single on Valentine's Day at all.”
“Oh fuck y–” Angel whips his head around to see Husk watching him with a look that doesn’t match the snarky remark she just made. There was a hint of sympathy (no, empathy?) in those slightly dilated golden eyes. Enough to stop Angel right in his tracks. “Sorry, I’m– I just really hate this day, okay. I know I brag a lot about bein’ the most wanted demon in hell but… that's not really true.”
He pauses to get up and cross the room swiftly, grabbing a couple of pink solo cups from the bag on his dresser. Husk watches in silence as Angel moves in an effortlessly graceful manner across the room, and it’s then that he notices Angel’s loungewear. This was the first time Husk had seen the actor in his natural state, no fancy clothes or exposed body parts with the exception of a bit of his legs, and a face free of makeup (holy shit, Angel had even more freckles on his nose and cheeks?!).
Angel looked relaxed, comfortable, in clothes that all matched each other, but also didn't. He looked really… cute in Husk's opinion. Not that he’d mention that out loud. Telling someone how cute they are isn’t really what friends do, right? Right.
When Angel returns, he hands both cups to Husk who wordlessly cracks open the bottle of tequila and starts pouring a serving for each of them.
Angel continues while Husk works, “Sure everyone wants to fuck me. But nobody wants to be with me. Not even Val, not even back when I thought he loved me too. Val never spent Valentine’s Day with me, he always kicked me to the curb for Vox,” he rolls his eyes as he says the TV demon’s name with disgust, but not with as much venom as when he says the name of his boss. “But then again the arrogant dickwad always refers to today as ‘Valentino’s Day’ ‘n nobody in their right mind wants to celebrate that.”
Husk chortles at the remark, which again makes that thing in Angel’s chest do a somersault against his will.
“Look Legs, you know better than anyone that Valentino is a piece of shit not even worth wanting or worrying about. But I find it hard that no one else in all of hell has never wanted to genuinely be wit’ someone like you. You’re… YOU,” Husk remarks as he makes a quick sweeping gesture up and down with both hands in Angel's direction. “You’ve had dates ‘n shit, right? You told me about a few of ‘em.”
Angel tried not to dwell on the way Husk said ‘you’, it was probably just the migraine making him hear things. “Yeah, I’ve been on busted ass dates with clients before, but that don’t really count. I was just their arm candy to show off ’n make themselves look good to their dickhead friends or asshole business partners. Make ‘em feel like their pricks weren’t as tiny as they actually were for just one night.
“No one cares enough to try to date me fa’real, or woo me or anythin’ like that. Nobody wants to love a whore. On days like this… I’m always bein’ left out.” Angel’s voice goes small as he pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping all four arms around his legs so he's in an upright fetal position.
They are silent for a moment, but it surprisingly does not feel awkward. Husk huffs a sigh before turning his entire body to face Angel, tucking one foot under the opposite leg. “Look kid, I’m sorry. I had no idea. But what I can say is, I get it. Well, in a way. I’ve never been anyone’s idea of handsome or sexy, not even when I was alive. I ain’t never been some pretty blue-eyed heartthrob, or the type they make the love interest in a movie. People like me are always bein’ left out.”
Angel can’t imagine Husk never not being sexy. His build, his demeanor, his fucking voice! He’s very tempted to bring that up, but flirting in the middle of a vulnerable moment is probably not the best idea. Angel really values his growing friendship with Husk, and he’s doing his best to not say and do things to cross the bartender’s boundaries again. Angel imagines Charlie giving him another golden star sticker for how considerate he was being at the moment.
After a beat, Husk hovers for a split second, before placing a large hand on Angel’s shoulder, causing the spider to look at him again. “Looks like we’re both losers when it comes to love too. But at least we have each other, baby,” he says with the softest, sweetest smile Angel has ever seen on Husk’s, or anyone else’s, face.
Angel sees Husk’s eyes not only dilate even more than before, but his golden irises begin to glow bright even in the glow of his neon pink lights. The sight is making his own face and chest grow warm, and he hopes that his aforementioned lights are hiding the color from Husk’s view (they aren’t).
Angel smiles softly back at his friend. “Yeah… and ‘nobody puts Baby in the corner’!”
“Wha– huh?” Husk's face morphs into a confused expression at the random outburst.
Angel giggles, the kind of laugh that makes Husk’s stomach flutter. “It’s a line from the movie Whiskers,” he says as he gestures towards the menu for Dirty Dancing still on his screen. “Wanna watch it with me? It’s probably one of my top three movies of all time. I bet you’d like it.”
“Please don’t make bets with me, I can’t deal with your pouting when you lose,” Husk says in a tongue-in-cheek tone.
“Oh shut up asshole,” Angel shoots back, but there is no bite in his words, he still has a smile on his face. “Hand me a spoon before that ice cream melts. And get comfortable! You look so stiff right now.”
‘Stiff’ isn't the word Angel would actually use to describe Husk right now. More like hot. The feline is still dressed in his party clothes: gray pin striped slacks and matching vest overtop a light pink button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Pinned to the vest is a small gold brooch that looks like the ace of hearts card, and tucked neatly underneath is a long red tie that matches the tiny red hearts on his black suspenders. His black top hat is wrapped in a red band that also matches the tie, held closed on the side by a pink heart patch with gold trim.
In Angel’s opinion, Husk looked very sexy today, even in such soft colors. Not that he’d mention that out loud. Telling someone how sexy they look isn’t really what friends do, right? Right.
“What? I am comfortable now. I’m fine,” Husk lies. Poorly.
“Riiiiight…” Angel says sarcastically, copying Husk’s tone from earlier. “Just loosen up some, you still have all your clothes on… wait I didn’t mean it like that!” Fuck. Angel can’t stop flirting to save his life, even if he’s not trying to.
“Heh, it’s okay, I know what you meant. Go ahead and start the movie, kid.” Husk takes off his top hat and places it on the bedside table behind him. He then removes his tie completely, followed by pulling down both sides of his slutty suspenders so he can remove his vest too. Lastly, he unlatches the top two buttons of his shirt, a tuft of his chest fur peeks out from the top.
Angel takes a large sip of his tequila and adverts his eyes from the softcore strip tease Husk is unknowingly giving right now, fumbling with the remote to start the movie so bad that he accidentally drops it on Fat Nuggets’s tail, who was resting quietly near Angel’s calves. His little squeal makes both of the men jump, cutting the tension in the air.
“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry Nuggsie! Papa is such a klutz today!” Angel gives Fat Nuggets three comforting kisses to his forehead, before settling the pig back down to grab some more treats to make up for his transgressions. When he turns back to return to the bed, Fat Nuggets is settled in Husk’s lap, relaxed as the older man digs into the tub of ice cream.
“You spoiled little shit. I make one mistake and you abandon me for another man…” Fat Nuggets lets out a little huff through his snout, unphased by his papa’s usual dramatics. Angel then turns to Husk with a pointed finger, “And you! Digging into my ice cream before me! Both of y'all are some traitors.”
Husk puts up both of his hands in a surrender gesture. “Hey it’s not my fault, he just hopped in my lap out of nowhere. And the ice cream is gonna go to waste if one of us doesn’t go ahead and eat it…”
Angel laughs, softly this time, but still enough to make Husk’s stomach flutter again. “It’s okay Husky, I’m just fuckin’ wit’cha. Let’s get this movie going…”
The spider flops down on the bed, feeds his baby his apology treats, and hits play on the movie. Both men dig into the ice cream, eat chips, and drink tequila while chatting throughout the entire film. Being that Husk lived through the 60s, he was able to point out what was or wasn’t accurate, and explain references that Angel never knew before. Cherri wasn't born until about 1965, so she definitely wouldn’t have known either.
Angel goes quiet and breaks his attention away from Husk when his favorite scene comes on the screen: Johnny and Baby alone in the dance studio, playing around and lip synching to “Love Is Strange.” His heart leaps out of his chest when he hears a now thoroughly tipsy Husk start singing along to the song. Angel had to remind himself again that Husk was alive during that time, of course he knows the song without ever seeing this movie.
Husk notices Angel watching him instead of the screen in front of them, and decides to play into it. He looks directly into the younger man’s eyes as he sings, “Sylvia!”
Angel grins mischievously as he, without missing a beat, joins in. “Yes, Mickey?”
Husk smiles back, showing all his fangs. “How do you call your lover boy?”
“Come here, lover boy!” Angel recites as he jerks his head to the side, in sync with Baby on screen.
Husk holds back a laugh in an attempt to stay in character. “And if he doesn’t answer?”
“Oh lover boyyy~” Angel draws out while crooking his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion.
“And if he still doesn’t answer?!” Husk is completely facing Angel now, not watching the film anymore.
Angel gets on all fours (or, sixes?) on top of the bed, imitating the moves of the actors on screen. “I simply say, ‘Baaaby… ohhh baaaby … my sweet baaaby … You’re the one.’”
Husk follows his lead, getting on all fours as well, completely uninhibited in the moment. “They both sing in harmony, finishing the song off, “‘Baaaby, mmm… ohhh baaaby, mmm … my sweet baaaby, mmm … You’re the one.’”
As Johnny and Baby are interrupted in their scene, Husk and Angel are broken out of their tipsy trance, just now realizing their faces are about an inch or two apart. Angel breaks away first, bursting out in a fit of laughter and flopping on to his back on the bed, upside down. He was so tickled that his socked feet bump into and slip off the side of his headboard.
He also realized his migraine was suddenly gone as well. This was the first time alcohol actually got rid of his headache (or at least that's what he told himself).
Husk is frozen in place for a long time, still on all fours, face flushed completely red now, watching Angel before he joins in to his infectious laughter. He positions himself back to where he was sitting before, his head next to Angel's feet, and his own only reaching the spider’s shoulder.
“Anyone ever told ya, ya got a really nice singing voice?” Angel looked up at Husk with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. Husk tried not to think too much into it, they were both pretty drunk after all.
“Yeah, well… Don’t go spreading that all around. I ain’t performing for any of them chumps…”
“Just for me then?” Angel asks in almost a whisper.
Husk stiffens, the heat in his face growing even hotter. He clears his throat, “Shut up so I can watch yer silly movie.”
“It’s not silly, ya love it!” Angel sits up quickly, and positions himself back next to Husk so he can see the TV again.
They may or may not be sitting a lot closer than they were before. Shoulders nearly touching now. Neither of the men noticed. Not at all. (They both did, obviously.)
They watched in silence for a few minutes before Angel started commenting on the film again, making Husk comfortable to finally chime in too. The half eaten ice cream was too melted to enjoy anymore, but they finished off the chips and Husk even let Angel have the last swig of tequila, emptying the bottle.
It was true, this was probably the most decent Valentine’s Day Angel Dust had ever experienced, though not quite enough to make him stop hating the holiday. At least not yet.
What he could say is Dirty Dancing may have to move up from top 3 to his number 1 movie of all time. Maybe.