Chapter Text
Valentino was being a right pain in the ass: literally and metaphorically. The moth had been getting more and more brutal as the years went on, and now? The famous porn star couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a shift at the studio, each generally ending up in the spider being unconscious or maimed. Of course, being ever-so-generous, Val had booked Angel a cab to work, as he did every day, but to get home after the gruelling, non-stop hours of hardcore abuse, the spider had to figure something for himself.
That’s where he found himself right now, stumbling down some dim and dark alleyway- that he distantly remembered was a shortcut back to the hotel- covered in bite marks and various liquids, that he didn't really want to think about, sticking his normally pristine, white fur into thick clumps which would surely take too much effort to clean. His head felt heavy and cloudy, his legs trembling violently under him with the threat of giving out any moment as he limped back to the place he'd started calling home. The poor thing’s heart started crying out for Husk, and he mentally scolded himself as he tripped over carcasses and entrails, he couldn't entertain those thoughts. Yes, he and Husk were an ‘item’, and it was nice, it was slow, and it was real. See, Husk may have been able to see through the entire facade of Angel Dust, but there are some things that the spider swore he'd take to his double-grave.
He wasn't sure when it began, really. He vaguely remembers returning to the hotel after a particularly rough shoot and going straight up to his room. He had barely made it past the door when he collapsed and his mind went foggy, as his trembling form emitted violent and broken sobs, alerting his pet piggy. His companion nuzzled his snout into Angel's side and snuck into his lap, grunting softly, as the spider cried out pathetically. He felt helpless. He had to admit, the aftermath of that sobbing session was particularly blissful; his mind was empty and foggy, and he had nothing to worry about, but the pig in his arms and getting cuddled up and comfy in his big bed. Angel had felt that a few times since, and eventually learnt that there was a term for it, but tried to keep from it as much as possible- it was pathetic.
It was pathetic, and it was disgusting and he was both of those too. So, yeah, no way that he would let himself give in and tell Husk. Because oh , Husk would take such good care of him. Thinking about his deep and soothing voice itself sent a pang of yearning through Angel's heart as he neared the hotel. The mere thought of being cared for and fussed over made him almost drop then and there, but no . He had to make it back, up the hill, and sit at the bar, and talk to Husk, and keep it together, damn it . He didn't want to think about what would happen if he told Husk. The barman would probably assume its a kink, and that would be the last straw for him, because he already puts up with everything that is fucked up about Angel, but getting off on acting like a kid? That would be too far. Of course, he didn't. Of course, that was disgusting. It was the only time he felt pure of everything that he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, and he would never defile it that way. But that's what everyone sees of him, anyways, isn't it? Husk would leave him, so he can never know. But, Lucifer , he wanted to be small, he wanted to stop thinking and let himself be little, regress. The last few steps uphill drained him, and the thought of having to act big and strong felt like too much.
He took a deep breath, spluttering on it as his tight corset dug into his ribs, before opening the door to the hotel and trudging on to the bar, where his kitty was giving him a concerned smile. He fell into one of the bar stools, his head practically slamming into the bartop, and he briefly registered Husk using his claw to lift his head up.
“Woah, hey! Angel, fucking hell!”, he mumbled out gruffly, but couldn’t help the tender tone seeping in. His concern didn't fade whatsoever when all Angel did was slowly blink at him with glossy eyes. “Angie?”. That made him snap out of it and sit up a bit more straight, gulping and clearing his throat.
“Hah! Sorry about that, Husky. Long shift, ya know?”, he sighed, resting his head on his least injured arm. That didn't reassure Husk very much, “Yeah, I bet, look at you..”. Angel cracked a weak grin before feigning offence, “Are you insultin’ me?!”. Husk scoffed, before smiling back, “Yes, darling, because you look like shit.”, and Angel snickered. “Don't gotta tell me twice…”.
Husk hummed under his breath, “Want a drink, baby? Looks like ya need it.”. The spider truthfully considered it for a moment before shaking his head a little, before going back into a sort of day-dreamy state. Now that shocked Husk, and worried him even more. Not only was the pornstar acting spacey and out of it, but he refused a drink? Preposterous. “You sure? I got some of that gin you like, ya know, the strawberry one?”, Husk tried again, and was let down when Angel shook his head, although he did brighten up a little at the mention of the drink. “No, thank you, Husky…”, he whispered out, in a surprisingly weak voice. Husk sighed, before resting both of his arms on the bartop, catching Angel’s attention, “Alright, Angel, what the fuck’s going on? You’re all spacey, did ya relapse or somethin?”. Angel fervently shook his head, blushing. “It's okay if you did, Angel, I'll understand. I'm not happy about it, but I do understand-”. The cat was cut off. “It's not that…”.
Husk raised a feathered eyebrow whilst picking up another glass to polish, deciding to stop pressuring his boyfriend so much, “Yeah? Good, I’m proud.”. Angel smiled. “But then what is it?”. The smile dropped instantly. The spider sighed, “I'm just tired, baby.. really.. I.. I’m really tired.. “, and the glossy eyes returned before he cleared his throat. “I- uh- should go..to sleep. Thank you for uh- uh stayin’ up for me, I'm just.. I'm just gonna go..”. The sinner stumbled over his words, pushing himself up off the barstool and taking a few steps away from the bar, before he felt a gentle hand on his wrist, coaxing him to turn around.
The soft face surprised him. “Angel, what is it?”, the elder asked, a caring hand running down his jaw. He was going to melt, his regression was tugging and tugging at his mind to give in, and he wanted to, so bad , but he couldn't. All eight of his eyes teared up as he looked down at his lover. He was lost for words.
“I-”, “ Sweetheart…”. Husk took his face in his hands, running a clawed thumb across Angel’s cheek, and if he had to stand on his tip-toes to do so? Neither mentioned it.
Angel just stared down at Husk. I mean, what else could he do? He was at a standstill. At this point, he knew he was going to drop, and drop hard , but all he could do was try to hold it off until he was alone. However, that didn’t seem very likely to happen, considering that Husk was holding onto Angel’s face oh-so-gently. That didn’t help, as it made it just that tiny bit harder to even think about pulling away, and the spider silently cursed the love of his afterlife for being so fucking good to him. Two of his smaller eyes darted around for escape routes, but deep down, he knew that he was going to slip, and that thought just about brought tears to his ey- nevermind, it did.
Crocodile tears were cascading down from his eyes, and the thing that brought him back was Husk’s claws rushing to wipe the tears. He tried to speak, tried to explain, tried to find an excuse to get away, but all that left his lips was a heart wrenching sob. Angel briefly registered his leg aching at an odd angle and he looked down. When had he fallen to the floor?
Husk pulled him in for a hug. He was already so confused, he was already in so much pain, he was so tired , but this godforsaken hug was about to dob him in, and he was not about to let it. If he slipped, if Husk found out, he would leave , and Angel didn’t think that he could handle that. He needed Husk, and he liked to think that Husk needed him, too. So, in a poorly strung together attempt to save his dignity, and possibly, their relationship, he pushed Husk off himself and scrambled to get up.
The bartender couldn’t help but be stunned, as he lay on the floor, before rushing up with a pained groan at his creaking knees, and following after Angel. Despite his best efforts, the poor thing only managed to stumble to the staircase of the hotel before falling into a pile on the steps, gasping for air and tugging roughly at his hair. Husk instantly sat down on the same step upon which the actor was curled up, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Angel had half a mind to try and run again, for the sake of himself, for the sake of Husk, for the sake of them. But how could he do that when a gentle, clawed thumb was running up and down his shoulder, and the familiar, comforting scent of whiskey and tobacco filled his nostrils. Unlike Valentino’s poison, which grabbed him by the throat and dragged him in for seconds, this one gently lulled him closer to the source; not forceful, not suffocating, just.. there. The spider’s sobs never entirely stopped, but they got to a point where he buried his face in his lover’s neck and allowed himself to be held. God… this was what he needed.
Admittedly, although he kept a strong exterior for Angel’s sake, on the inside, Husker was absolutely freaking the fuck out- he’d seen his boyfriend crying, he’d seen his boyfriend scream and smash shit just because he felt like it, but he’d never seen him look quite so… He didn’t want to say it, but he looked pathetic: in the most loving way possible. Long story short, he didn’t know what to do, so he had to improvise, and God , did Husk hate improvising. As much as he hated just lingering at the bar for roughly 45.8% of his days now, it gave him the opportunity to script-up some situations so that, when the time came to it, he wouldn’t be entirely clueless on what to do and just freeze up- the last time he’d let that happen, he lost his soul, so he vowed to overthink everything, you know.. just to be safe. This scenario, however, wasn’t one he’d envisioned much, if he was being completely honest, but he internally grumbled and forced himself to muster something up.
When the spider’s cries deescalated to mere sniffles with the bartender’s presence and gentle hushing, his bleary and teary eyes looked up at his boyfriend, who in turn cooed and ran a claw through the white and pink hair on Angel’s head. “Shh.. I gotcha.. You’re okay, love.”, he muttered quietly, and Angel whined, clinging to Husk tighter, who was racking his head for ideas. Angel was loud , and annoying , but right now? He was near silent. “D’you want some booze, hon?”, he asked quietly, “God knows I could use some.”. At a shake of Angel’s head, he hummed and lifted up his chin with a gentle clawed finger, “Maybe a bath, huh? I’ll wash your hair?”. This time, he received a slightly more positive response- a shrug. Husk nodded, sighing tiredly, “Okay, c’mon. Can you stand up?”, he inquired with a gentle voice, internally praying to any being that would listen that Angel could in fact stand up, because he wasn’t sure if he would be able to carry the 7”2 spider, and he was elated when he felt a tiny nod. The pornstar stirred and held onto the rickety bannister to help himself up, stumbling a little on the almost foot-tall heeled boots he was wearing, but he stabilised himself when he felt his boyfriend’s gentle hand on his side.
Once they made it up the stairs safely, Husk felt a gentle hand in the scruffy fur behind his ears and promptly stopped, looking up in confusion; Angel was still very much on the brink of tears but now petting the elder with soft eyes, who just smiled fondly, and in concern. “You holdin’ up okay, darling?”, he asked, somewhat amusedly. The spider didn’t register the question, just petting the fur in a daze, until a few seconds later, a mumbled response left his bruised lips with a hint of a slur or lisp- Husk couldn’t quite place which it was, and he didn’t necessarily think that it mattered very much. “F’uffy.”, he hummed, and continued, “Y’got f’uffy ears, bubba.”. Husk gently took the battered hand out of his fur and cradled it with a fond chuckle; he genuinely didn’t know what was up with Angel right now, or how to react, so he just decided to be gentle with everything he did or said, as he was honestly convinced that one gust of wind could blow the other to white and pink fluffy smithereens if he wasn’t careful. “Oh yeah?”, he murmured softly, soothingly rubbing his boyfriend’s back as he led him down the hall. “Mhm.”, Angel nodded with exhausted and weak certainty, but certainty nonetheless. “We gotta be quiet now, sweetpea. Everyone’s sleeping, yeah? Don’t wanna deal with a grumpy Vaggie in the mornin’, huh? That’d be a reeaaal bummer on everyone.”, the cat tries to ramble quietly as to keep Angel relatively placated,at least for the time being, but he’s never been a man of many words. Angel kind of follows and nods along clumsily, completely little now, just trying to mask it to the best of his ability (which unfortunately for him, isn’t that well), until Husk passes out.
Husk gently leads the spider into their now shared room and into the en suite. “You still up for a bath? We gotta get all that muck outta your fur, Angel.”, and he responds with a reluctant nod, scrubbing his eye. Husk hums and turns the tap, paying close attention to making sure that the water is a perfect temperature for his sweetheart- those cuts looked agonising, and he didn’t want them to burn more than they had to- until he felt a soft tug on his tail, turning around to see Angel curled up on the closed toilet seat, bleary eyed with smeared and bloody makeup. “Yeah, baby? You okay? The bath’s almost ready..”, Husk offers with a tired smile, ruffling the others tangled locks, who in turn leans into the touch and rasps out, “Bubbles, please?”. Husk chuckles, faux-hitting his forehead “Oh, duh! How could I forget?”, before pouring some of the strawberry-scented gel into the warm water. Suddenly, not having a social script for this specific situation was okay, when Husk heard a hoarse, quiet giggle from the spider, who was peeking up over his arms- one pair wrapped around his knees, the other making a nest for his head while he waited. “Y’silly, kitty..”, he grinned tiredly with the same sweet, innocent yet so exhausted eyes that had the tiniest sparkle revived in them. The cat smirked tenderly while helping his lover up onto his wobbly feet and out of his torturous costume. “Oh, I’m silly now, am I?”, he eases Angel’s chokingly tight corset off which dug excruciatingly into his already much too tiny waist, and the taller nods tiredly with a tiny smile, wincing as Husk slips his ridiculously short latex shorts off in one flail swoop..along with his boxers. And yet, any panic that jumps to the surface melts away instantly; he knows Husk would never dare to do such a thing, especially when he's like this; he knows Husk, and Husk knows him , so it's okay.
It’s all okay.
Everything’s alright.
It has to be safe.
And so, with the bravery it takes to take his boots off, Angel stands in front of Husk with more trust than words could possibly convey. Bare. Naked. Innocent.
Husk is here ; he’s Angel’s home; Angel’s home . Husk’s hand lovingly wraps itself around Angel’s waist, and for a millisecond, the spider panics, but it’s all okay, because Husk’s here, and Husk’s safe.
The barman tenderly eases Angel into the water without another word, just a polite kiss to the temple, and that’s when the taller man breaks: because he’s safe .
At that moment, the star isn’t Angel Dust, he isn’t “Angie”, or “Angel Cakes”, or even “Angel”.
In that moment, weeping into the dried blood caked into the fur of his arms, surrounded by strawberry-scented bubbles, comforted by the only person who has ever truly wanted him for him:
He’s Anthony.