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Husk had a problem. When he'd first shown up to the hotel, he'd been pissed as fuck that he was stuck bartending in Alastor's newest little project. He hadn't given a damn about Charlie's dreams, or about anyone else in the hotel, and he hadn't given a damn about Angel Dust. Despite the fact that Angel Dust was utterly gorgeous in a way that made Husk's heart skip a little bit. He'd written Angel off as a fake bitch who didn't have anything to offer.
He was willing to admit that he'd been wrong, about a lot of things. Obviously Alastor was still a bastard, and Husk was deeply suspicious of his motives in getting involved with the hotel, but Charlie was genuine about her dreams, and she'd certainly changed the lives of a whole bunch of sinners, if nothing else. Husk was among those sinners, so he should know.
And Angel was very different than he'd imagined. He was tough, resilient, strong-willed, funny, terribly vulnerable. And still so gorgeous.
So, yeah. Husk was totally fucked.
There were times, though, when Angel leaned across the bar and gave him a look that made him think that his growing feelings might be returned. He might actually have a chance.
Which brought him to the Problem. See, when he'd first been starting out at the hotel, he'd been his usual prickly self, not wanting anyone to get too close. And that included a certain Fat Nuggets.
He wasn't proud of it, but he'd been behind the bar one day, considering pouring himself a very stiff drink, because he'd had a shitty, sleepless night the night before. And the little hellhog had trundled up to him and looked at him curiously. He was cute, sure, but Husk hadn't been in the mood for cute that morning.
So he'd snapped his wings open, raised all his hackles, and hissed at Fat Nuggets as poisonously as he could, showing all his teeth. And Fat Nuggets had turned and run, squealing. He'd felt a little better for a moment, then much worse, when he realized what a shit he was. Bullying a cute, dumb animal. Wow, what a man.
And since then, Fat Nuggets had, quite sensibly, refused to come anywhere near Husk. Which he understood. But he was well aware of how Angel doted on the little beast; if he was going to make something happen with Angel, he couldn't, couldn't, let Angel know that he'd once been mean to his pig.
Husk had to get Fat Nuggets to like him. And he had to do it quick, before Angel realized that he could do way better than Husk and moved on.
The more self-aware portions of his mind were able to see that he might be a little irrational about this. Well, sue him. He'd just survived a battle that should have been the end of him, and he wanted to tell the beautiful, tough, good-with-a-gun, charming man who slept down the hall from him that maybe they should be sleeping in the same bed for a while. Or forever. Whatever. But to do that, he needed to make sure that he and Fat Nuggets could get along. He couldn't have Angel without Fat Nuggets.
And he kind of did feel a bit bad about taking out his annoyance on the pig. A little. Whatever. He could make it up to the creature.
Unfortunately, he had no idea how to make pets like him. This was going to take some work.
***
"Why do you want Fat Nuggets to like you, again?" Vaggie asked, raising an eyebrow. Husk cursed himself for not tracking down Charlie at some time that she wasn't accompanied by her girlfriend. Although they'd been pretty much joined at the hip since the battle.
He couldn't really blame them. If Husk could be joined at the hip with Angel, he would be. Wow, that sounded weird, even in his head. Better not say that aloud.
Husk shrugged, trying to keep his tail from lashing or his wings from fluttering and giving him away. "He's pretty cute. I just want to get a chance to pet him. Looks like fun."
"Mmm," Vaggie said with a smile. "Yeah, Fat Nuggets is cute. Right."
"He's so cute!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together and completely failing to pick up on what Vaggie was putting down. Then again, she'd apparently been oblivious to Pentious pining over Cherri until he'd straight up told her, so Husk figured his secret was safe. Vaggie would needle him but wouldn't go spreading his business around.
"Yeah. Adorable," Husk said, straightening his cuffs. "So, uh. You've had Kiki and..." He trailed off, remembering that bringing up the little goat butler things might not be a good idea right at that moment. "You've had pets," he finished lamely. "How do I, you know. Win over a mini-hellhog?"
Wow. This was really what his life had come to, huh?
Kiki, as though hearing her name, strutted out from behind the couch and jumped over the arm to settle on Charlie's lap. Vaggie, seeming not even to think about it, reached over and scratched under Kiki's chin, resulting in a buzz of purring that threatened to trigger a sympathetic response in Husk. He shoved it down. He hated purring. So embarrassing.
His mind flashed to an image of sitting on the same couch next to Angel, with Fat Nuggets on Angel's lap and Husk petting the little pig, and the effort needed to suppress purring practically doubled. Ugh. When had he become so domestic?
"Well, you just need to show that you're someone Fat Nuggets can trust!" Charlie said. "If he's nervous about you, just sit quietly in the same room as him. Wait for him to come to you. Don't pet him on his head right away, try reaching for his chest first. Let him sniff your hand before you pet him. Oh, and Angel said he was okay with the rest of us giving him treats, right? He likes apples. And grapes."
Husk was glad of his bartender's memory. He imagined a running list in his head, adding each little snippet of information as Charlie rattled them off, nodding along. Trying very hard not to meet Vaggie's eyes, since she was looking at him with a knowing expression that he really didn't want to consider for any length of time.
"Okay," Husk finally said, when Charlie was done. "That's, uh. Helpful. Thanks."
"Good luck!" Charlie said, and Vaggie raised an eyebrow at him, and he beat a hasty retreat.
Okay. He had some ideas. He could do this. Time to get this pig to like him.
How hard could it be?
***
Husk found Fat Nuggets later that day, sitting in the lounge on the floor while Kiki licked his ears. Okay, so he was open to liking cats. Good. Great, even.
"Let's go," Husk whispered to himself, cracking his knuckles and rolling his head on his neck. Then he stepped into the lounge, whistling a carefree tune for good measure.
Kiki didn't look up when he came in, but Fat Nuggets did. The little hellhog's eyes snapped to Husk and stayed there, watching him warily. Okay, Husk. Time to be someone a pig can trust.
He looked away from Fat Nuggets's eyes, sidling slowly along the floor of the lounge toward the two animals. He held his hand out as he came, and when he was nearly within arm's reach, he dropped down into a crouch. Kiki finally deigned to notice him, leaving her washing of Fat Nuggets's ears to sniff his fingers, then butt her head against them.
"Thanks, kiddo," Husk said softly, and scratched under her chin. Fat Nuggets leaned toward him slightly, ears up with curiosity, and Husk thrust his hand toward the pig...
Too fast, it turned out. Fat Nuggets snorted and darted out of the room.
Husk sighed, settling back on his ass in disappointment. Kiki gave a soft, reproving sound, and Husk turned back to her and the petting he had so rudely stopped. She purred as he stroked her back, then flopped down on her side so she could bat at his hand.
"Well, at least you like me," Husk said, and, as if in response, Kiki gave him a sharp little bite, with great and evident satisfaction.
***
Okay, so he'd failed once. But the lesson he'd learned over his years in Hell was simple: it didn't matter how many times you got knocked down. It mattered how many times you got back up.
He was going to make this pig like him, if it was the last thing he did.
The next time he saw Fat Nuggets was the following morning, in the hallway outside the hotel kitchen. The pig watched him warily as he approached, even slower than he had the first time. Agonizingly slowly. He could do this.
He crouched earlier this time, doing a weird sideways crab step across the hall toward Fat Nuggets, his hand outstretched. The slower he moved, the more his heart pounded and his fur stood on end. He was so close now. He was so...
Fat Nuggets ducked his hand and squealed, then scurried into the kitchen. Husk sighed and put his head in his hands.
Then he heard the absolute most infuriating sound of all: a radio-staticky voice saying, "Why, hello there, little friend. Lovely to see you this morning." A placid snort was Fat Nuggets's response.
Husk stood up and poked his head around the corner into the kitchen, already knowing what he'd see and already annoyed about it. There was Alastor, sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, leaning down to scratch Fat Nuggets under the chin. Fat Nuggets was clearly loving the attention.
Really, pig? You're okay with the psycho cannibal petting you? Husk was about to retreat, utterly defeated, when Alastor looked up and met his eyes with a smirk that told Husk he'd known he was there the entire time. Great.
"Morning, boss," Husk said sarcastically. He considered making up some reason for him to be in the kitchen, so it was less obvious that he had been watching Alastor interact with Angel's pet and stewing with ridiculous jealousy, but there wasn't much point. Alastor always saw more than anyone wanted him to.
"You're trying too hard," Alastor answered, his smile stretching even wider.
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Husk snapped back.
"Animals can sense your stress, you know." Alastor tilted his head toward Fat Nuggets, who had flopped down onto the floor on his belly, all four legs sprawled out as though the sinner looming over him wasn't one of the most dangerous in Hell.
"Good to know," Husk forced out through gritted teeth.
"Now," Alastor said, clapping his hands together. Even that sudden sound wasn't enough to freak Fat Nuggets out. "You'll be wanting coffee. I made extra, for whoever was awake at this hour."
Husk really, really wanted to tell Alastor to shove his coffee up his ass, and that Husk didn't want anything from him.
But then again, Alastor made really, really good coffee. Husk had no idea how he did it. It was better than any fancy coffee shop in Hell.
So he sighed and crossed the kitchen to where the French press was sitting. He didn't look at Fat Nuggets as he went.
***
Husk decided not to try again that day. He was annoyed enough that he should probably give Fat Nuggets some space, in his current mood. He, again, was self-aware enough to realize that he was probably taking this way too hard. He'd never really cared whether he was liked, before.
But he'd never really met anyone he liked the way he liked Angel before, either. He'd had lovers, but he'd never lo---
Nope, not finishing that sentence. Not even in the privacy of his own mind. That was way too much, even after defying death with a guy.
But maybe someday...
Whatever. He needed a break from attempted pig-wrangling. He went ahead and avoided everyone else for the rest of the day, too. It was easy enough, given that Angel was at the studio, and much as he'd come to think of the hotel residents as his friends, there was no one else he wanted to talk to as much as he wanted to talk to Angel. Especially not when he was in a shitty mood.
So he stayed in his room, or behind the bar taking stock, or creeping around the halls avoiding people. At least he did until that evening, when Angel got back from shooting.
And if he'd made sure he was behind the bar when he thought that was likely to happen, well. People had done dumber things.
Angel slouched through the door with his shoulders slumped, and Husk could tell right away that it had been a shitty day. Husk had wished many times since he'd lost it all that he was still an Overlord, but never more than lately. If he still had all the souls he'd once owned, he could kick that snot Valentino's ass all up and down Pentagram City.
Although, having seen what it really looked like on the ground level for one of those owned souls... He sometimes wondered if he really wanted to be an Overlord again. And wasn't that a head trip.
Angel glanced up at him, looked at the bar, and frowned. "I need a more comfortable seat," he said, and jerked his head toward the lounge. "Think you can deliver, bartender?"
Husk smiled back at him and pulled a glass from under the bar. "Be there in a minute. Be sure to tell the hotel owner about this stellar service."
Angel barked a laugh, then turned toward the door to the lounge. Husk grabbed the bottle with the whiskey that Angel liked best, elbowed the freezer open for a pair of ice cubes, poured out the drink. Then he brought the glass into the lounge and pressed it into Angel's hand.
It felt nice, to be touching Angel's hand, his long fingers, the warmth of him even through his gloves, for that brief second. He pulled his hand away quickly. Angel had had a tough day. It really, really wasn't the time for Husk's whole... deal.
Husk sat down on the other end of the couch, making sure there was space between them but he was still close enough that if Angel wanted... If Angel thought it would help...
Husk told his brain, sternly, to shut up. "So," he said, glancing at Angel out of the corner of his eye. "Want to talk about it?"
Angel snorted. "Not even a little bit," he said, and took a slug of his drink.
Husk considered that. "Want to tell me about the dumbest jackass you had to work with on set today?" he asked after a moment.
Angel giggled, and then a moment later he was laughing so hard that Husk had to reach over and take the glass out of his hand to keep it from spilling. When he'd mastered himself, Angel wiped his eyes, took his glass back, and said, "Oh, fuck, do I. So there was this new guy on the boom mic, and you would not believe..."
Husk smiled and stretched his arms across the back of the couch as he listened to Angel tell his story. And then, under the guise of pulling his long legs up onto the couch next to him, Angel wiggled a bit closer, so that they were pressed together all along their sides.
Husk froze, and Angel trailed off mid-sentence, and for a moment the pair of them hung in the balance. Then Husk took his arm off the back of the couch and rested it across Angel's shoulders, and Angel smiled to himself, took a sip of his drink, and snuggled a little closer. "So anyway," he picked up the thread of his story again, and Husk felt like, if anyone could have looked into his brain at that moment, they would have seen nothing but fireworks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the doorway, close to the ground. He glanced over, prepared to see Niffty scurrying around after bugs, but instead he saw Fat Nuggets sitting with his head tilted on one side, watching them. After a moment, the hellhog turned and trotted off, toward the stairs leading up to the rooms. Husk shrugged internally and turned his attention back to Angel.
***
The next morning, Husk was standing behind the bar, trying to look busy so that Charlie wouldn't pull him into a team-building exercise, when he heard a snort and glanced over to see Fat Nuggets looking at him. He remembered what Alastor had said about trying too hard, and tried to look somewhere over the pig's shoulder. Did pigs like eye contact? Shit, he had no idea.
Fat Nuggets snorted again, then trundled over to the bar as though he didn't have a care in the world. He sat down next to Husk and leaned against his leg, looking up at him expectantly.
Husk reached down and scratched behind the pig's ears, and Fat Nuggets closed his eyes and snuffled contentedly.
"Well," Husk said, bewildered. "All right then." Fat Nuggets, for his part, just licked Husk's hand and wagged his tail.