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The Bar at the Hazbin Hotel
The night was winding down. The jukebox crooned some crackly jazz number that Alastor had insisted on adding to Husk’s playlist, and the angelic neon glow from Charlie’s latest “ambiance experiment” cast everything in a soft pink haze.
Angel Dust leaned across the bar, elbows propped, grinning like sin itself.
“C’mon, Husky. Loosen up! You got wings, a tail, and an attitude—how’re you still the grumpiest thing in Hell?”
Husk didn’t even glance up from polishing his glass. “Practice.”
Angel giggled, sliding his drink aside so he could lean closer. “Bet I could make ya smile if I tried.”
“Bet you couldn’t.”
“Oh, honey…” Angel purred, “you have no idea what I’m capable of.”
He tried to hop up onto the counter for emphasis—one leg swinging, balancing in heels that had no business on a slick surface—but the move didn’t go as gracefully as it did in his head. The glass he’d brushed aside tipped over, and before he could yelp, a pair of strong arms caught him mid-fall.
♥️🕷️🥃💋🥀🫗🎲
Husk had him. One arm hooked under Angel’s thighs, the other around his back, holding him steady like it was nothing.
Angel blinked, wide-eyed and breathless, their faces suddenly inches apart. Husk’s tail flicked once behind him, betraying the burst of adrenaline he’d rather die than admit to.
“Well,” Husk muttered, his voice low and gruff, “guess I can add ‘idiot wrangler’ to my résumé.”
Angel’s laugh was half flustered, half delighted. “You coulda let me fall, ya know.”
“Yeah,” Husk said, still not putting him down. “Could’ve.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward — it was electric. Angel’s gloved hand slid over Husk’s shoulder, fingers tracing the edge of his collar. “You’re stronger than you look, Vegas.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
Husk finally set him down, slower than he needed to. Angel’s heels clicked against the floor, but the warmth of those steady hands lingered — heavy, anchoring, real.
Angel tilted his head, lips quirking. “Thanks for the catch.”
Husk just grunted, wings giving a small twitch as he turned away — the faintest pink under his fur. “Next time, try not to make it a habit.”
Angel smirked, eyes gleaming. “No promises, sugar.”
♥️🕷️🥃💋🥀🫗🎲
The Bar
The bar was half-lit, the way Husk liked it — shadows tucked into corners, the jukebox humming low, the faint buzz of neon reflecting off glass. Charlie had gone to bed hours ago. So had most of the other residents.
All except Angel Dust.
The spider demon had made himself comfortable across the counter, long legs draped over a stool, one arm balancing a glass, the other propping his chin as he talked. Or flirted. Or both.
“So lemme get this straight,” Angel said, swirling his drink lazily, “you’ve been tendin’ bar for—what, a century? Two? And you still don’t know how to enjoy yourself?”
Husk didn’t look up. “Enjoyment’s overrated.”
“Pfft. Spoken like a man who ain’t been properly kissed in decades.”
Husk shot him a dry look over the rim of his glass. “And spoken like someone who don’t know when to quit.”
Angel smirked, unfazed. “Why would I quit when I’m havin’ fun?”
Husk sighed and went back to wiping the counter. He didn’t mind Angel’s company — not really. The spider talked too much, but his chatter filled the silence in a way that wasn’t… awful. And when he laughed — that big, ridiculous laugh that made his whole chest move — it cut through the dullness that used to own the room.
Still, he wasn’t about to admit that.
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The Challenge
Angel leaned forward, eyes half-lidded. “I betcha I could make you smile.”
“Don’t.”
“Aw, c’mon, gramps, just once?”
Husk arched a brow. “You think I’m some cheap parlor trick? Try your luck somewhere else.”
“Luck’s my specialty, baby,” Angel purred.
“Then you’re outta luck here.”
Angel giggled. “We’ll see about that.”
Before Husk could stop him, Angel pushed off the stool and hopped onto the bar counter in one exaggerated motion. His heels clicked against the wood, and his grin spread wide.
“Feast your eyes, folks!” Angel announced to the empty room. “One heartless bartender about to melt like butter!”
“Get down before you break somethin’,” Husk muttered.
Angel twirled — showy, teasing, beautiful in that too-bright way that made Husk’s chest feel heavier than he liked to admit.
Then Angel’s heel slid against the wet edge of a spilled drink.
The laugh that started on his tongue turned into a startled yelp as he pitched forward.
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The Catch
Husker moved faster than he thought possible. One second Angel was falling — arms flailing, legs kicking — and the next, Husk had him.
One arm under his knees. One steadying his back.
Angel blinked up at him, stunned. For a moment neither of them said anything.
The neon light from the sign behind them painted the air in pink and red, glinting off Angel’s glossy eyes and the soft gold flecks in Husk’s fur.
“Uh…” Angel said finally, voice small. “Guess I fell for ya.”
Husk groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
“But ya caught me.”
“Didn’t have much choice.”
Angel tilted his head, grin creeping back. “Didn’t hear you complainin’.”
“Don’t push it.”
Angel’s laugh came out softer this time, somewhere between teasing and shy. “You’re stronger than you look, Husky.”
Husker’s tail twitched once behind him, the tip curling in agitation—or something that felt dangerously close to nervousness. “You’re lighter than you act.”
“Flatterer.”
“Idiot.”
He meant to drop him right then, but his hands wouldn’t move. Not until Angel shifted in his hold, one of those four arms brushing lightly against his shoulder. The touch wasn’t seductive — not really — but it carried heat all the same.
Angel’s expression changed, the mask cracking just a little. His lashes dipped. “…Didn’t think you’d bother catchin’ me.”
Husk’s breath hitched. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta keep you from breakin’ your damn neck.”
“That sounded almost caring.”
“Don’t push it.”
“You already said that.”
“Then maybe you’ll listen this time.”
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After the Fall
When Husk finally set him down, it was slower than he meant it to be. Angel’s boots touched the floor, but the warmth from where Husk’s hands had been didn’t leave.
Angel straightened his coat, pretending not to notice the quiet between them. “You sure you ain’t got a hero complex, sugar?”
“Hero complex, my ass.”
“Mm. Shame. You make a pretty good prince in distress.”
“More like the one who walks outta the burning castle while the idiot who caused it keeps talkin’.”
Angel laughed — really laughed — and Husk felt something uncoil in his chest.
“You’re somethin’ else, Husky.”
“Yeah. So I’ve been told.”
Angel stepped closer, his voice dipping. “…Thanks, though.”
Husker blinked. “For what?”
“For catchin’ me.”
There it was again — that sincerity that snuck up on him. The one Angel rarely showed unless he was too tired or too honest to keep up the act.
Husk grumbled something unintelligible and reached for another glass to polish. Anything to keep his hands busy. “Try not to make it a habit.”
“No promises.”
Angel slid back onto the stool — this time properly — and leaned his chin on his palm, watching Husk with a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
And Husk, for all his gruffness, didn’t tell him to leave.
♥️🕷️🥃💋🥀🫗🎲
Closing Time
The jukebox clicked softly as the last record ended. The room fell into that quiet hum only late nights in Hell could have — the sound of tired demons and flickering neon.
Angel’s voice broke it first. “Y’know, for a guy who says he don’t care, you sure got good reflexes.”
Husk didn’t look up. “Old habits.”
“From when you used to care?”
Husk froze. Angel smiled faintly, not pressing the question.
“Goodnight, Husky,” Angel said instead, sliding off the stool. His heels echoed across the floor as he started for the door — then paused.
“Next time,” Angel added over his shoulder, voice lilting, “you could just say you like havin’ me around instead of catchin’ me off guard.”
Husk’s wings twitched. “Dream on.”
Angel winked. “Already do, sugar.”
And with that, he left — a trace of perfume and laughter trailing in his wake.
Husk watched the door close behind him, then glanced down at the counter where Angel’s glass still sat half full.
He sighed. “Damn spider.”
But there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth as he reached for the rag again.
⸻
End.
♥️🕷️🥃💋🥀🫗🎲
🂱 Lift Me Up, Hotshot — Part II: Morning After the Fall
A Hazbin Hotel HuskerDust Slowburn Continuation
The Morning After
Husk woke to the sound of laughter.
Not the kind that made him wince — though, to be fair, almost every kind of laughter did. This one was soft, muffled by walls and morning light, drifting in from down the hall.
He groaned, rolling over on the couch behind the bar. His wings shifted under him with a dry rustle. Another night of half-sleep, half-regret. The faint scent of Angel’s perfume still clung to the air — sweet, sugary, and impossible to ignore.
He rubbed his eyes. “Perfect.”
When he finally sat up, the hotel was already alive with noise. Charlie was humming cheerfully somewhere in the lobby. Niffty was darting around with a feather duster, singing to herself. And from the kitchen came the unmistakable sound of Angel Dust arguing with someone — probably himself, if Husk knew him at all.
He considered staying put. But coffee called louder than self-preservation.
♥️🕷️🥃💋🥀🫗🎲
Kitchen Banter
The kitchen was its usual chaos: half-burned toast, glitter in the butter, and a faint smell of smoke. Angel stood at the counter in a pink silk robe, hair slightly mussed, stirring sugar into a mug that was mostly milk.
When he noticed Husker in the doorway, a grin curled across his face.
“Well, if it ain’t my knight in shining feathers.”
Husk grunted. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I already started, baby.” Angel perched a hand on his hip, eyes gleaming. “Didn’t think you’d be up so early after savin’ my gorgeous ass last night.”
“Wasn’t savin’,” Husk muttered, reaching for the coffee pot. “You fell. I caught you. End of story.”
Angel leaned in over the counter. “Mm, funny how you say that like it didn’t mean somethin’.”
“It didn’t.”
“Uh-huh.” Angel sipped his drink, eyes dancing. “Then why’s your tail twitchin’?”
Husk froze. He could feel the damn thing curling behind him, betraying him as usual.
“Damn thing’s got a mind of its own,” he growled.
Angel’s laughter came bright and genuine. “Sure it does, sugar.”
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Niffty’s Interruption
Before Husker could retort, Niffty zipped into the room carrying a stack of freshly washed napkins.
“Oh! Morning, boys!” she chirped. Her eyes darted between them, sparkle sharp. “You two look cozy.”
Angel smirked. “He’s just embarrassed ‘cause he caught me last night.”
Niffty gasped dramatically. “Caught you?!”
“Fell off the bar,” Husk mumbled.
Angel’s grin widened. “Into his arms. Real smooth, too.”
Niffty clapped her hands. “Aww, that’s so romantic!”
“It’s not romantic,” Husk snapped.
“Sure, sure,” Niffty said, already fluttering away. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, lover boy.”
Angel waggled his brows. “See? Even she thinks so.”
Husk buried his face in his hands. “I hate this place.”
“Love you too, doll-face.”
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Quiet Moment
Later that afternoon, when the hotel quieted and sunlight slanted through the windows in golden bands, Husker found Angel again — this time sitting out on the back steps, cigarette in hand.
Angel looked… softer than usual. No makeup, no loud outfit, just a loose shirt and the sound of Fat Nuggets snoring at his feet.
Husker paused in the doorway, debating whether to turn back.
Angel didn’t look up, but his voice came gentle. “You gonna hover there, or join me?”
Husker stepped outside, wings flexing once before he sat down beside him.
For a while, neither spoke. Smoke curled up into the pale Hellsky.
Angel finally broke the silence. “You really didn’t have to catch me, y’know.”
Husker huffed. “You keep sayin’ that like I shoulda let you fall.”
“Nah,” Angel said, smiling faintly. “Just didn’t expect it. Guys like you… don’t usually bother.”
That sat heavy between them.
Husk glanced down. “Maybe I’m tired of watchin’ things break.”
Angel’s laugh came out small — not the showy kind, but quiet, grateful. “Guess we got that in common.”
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The Unspoken
Fat Nuggets snorted, rolling over in his sleep. Angel reached down to scratch behind his ears, voice dipping low. “You ever think about leavin’ all this?”
“What, the hotel?”
“Hell,” Angel said simply. “If you could.”
Husker’s feathers rustled. “Ain’t much point. What’s done’s done.”
“Yeah.” Angel’s smile turned wistful. “Still… nice to think about. Someone catchin’ ya when ya fall instead of lettin’ ya splatter.”
Husker looked at him then — really looked. The lines of exhaustion under his eyes, the way the morning light softened him into something almost human.
“…You’re not alone here,” Husk said quietly.
Angel blinked. “Huh?”
“I mean…” Husker scratched the back of his neck. “If you fall again. Don’t expect me to always be there, but… I probably will be.”
Angel’s expression softened in a way that made Husker’s chest tighten.
“Careful, Husky,” Angel said with a crooked grin. “Say stuff like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you like me.”
Husk smirked, turning away. “Then stop thinkin’.”
“Can’t. You’re too cute when you pretend not to care.”
Husker groaned, wings puffing slightly. “You’re impossible.”
Angel nudged his shoulder. “You love it.”
He didn’t answer. But when Angel leaned against him — just slightly, just enough for their shoulders to touch — Husker didn’t move away.
And for once, the silence between them wasn’t awkward or loud. It was something gentler. Something almost safe.
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Nightfall Again
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Husker found himself back at the bar — polishing glasses out of habit, though there was nothing left to clean.
On the counter sat a napkin. Angel’s handwriting scrawled across it in glitter pen:
Thanks for the catch, handsome. Next round’s on me.
♥ — A.D.
Husk stared at it for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle.
“Idiot,” he muttered fondly.
His wings flicked once, soft and tired. But as the neon glow bathed the bar in pink again, Husker realized something rare — something he hadn’t felt in years.
The bar didn’t feel empty anymore.
⸻
End.
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