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“You look different,” Husk sarcastically drawled from the other side of the bar. For once there was a grin on his face, much to Angel’s chagrin.
“Maybe it’s something with your hair…” He faux-mused. “Or are you trying out some new make-up?”
Angel sat there grumpily staring into the reflection in his cocktail glass. His once-pink eyes were simplistic black blobs, the colors of his body exchanged for monochrome black, white, and greys. Thick lines rounded the edges of his body, and some strange fuzzy feeling left every inch of him tinged surreal and a little klutzy, like his body had some extra weight to it.
“Get it out of your system?” Angel rolled his eyes, a much more exaggerated look as his eyes danced across his face and settled onto Husk.
“Nah.” Husk punctuated it with taking a sip of his scotch and sticking his tongue out.
“They said this shit was supposed to wear off a couple hours ago,” Angel said, dragging two hands over his cheeks and pulling them down. A rubbery stretch and snap left them come back up, and Angel let off a groan.
“Y’know, I have always said I wish you were more G-rated,” Husk snickered, drawing a squint from Angel.
“Yeah yeah, trust me I heard enough from the guy who asked for it,” Angel huffed, gesturing a hand at himself. “Didn’t even know people could have a thing for cartoons.”
“Have you taken a look in the mirror, lately?” Husk said. “You ain't exactly humdrum, ya four-armed puffball.”
“Yeah, but I make it work.” Angel grinned, striking a pose and dragging a gloved hand up from his chest to his neck. The allure was undercut with him poking himself in the face, his usually slender fingers stuck in round, cartoonish gloves. Husk made no effort in suppressing his amused reaction.
“Hmph.” Angel pushed his hands onto the bartop, standing up and mumbling. “I’m gonna go to my room and try to work this off. I’ll see you, whiskers.”
Angel swiped a hand, a blur of black and white as he lifted his cocktail glass up and downed the thing in one overly dramatic gulp. He set it back down with a slam, sticking out his tongue.
“Least this shit’s good for something.” He turned away to take strutting, waltzy stride toward the stairs, leaving Husk to the bar.
Husk wiggled his key in the lock of his door. It wasn’t turning, and it was the last thing he wanted at the end of the shift; everybody’d already gone to bed, and he didn’t feel like sleeping on the lobby couches again.
He looked left, then right. The hallway seemed clear enough. A few steps back, and he angled his shoulder toward the door, before taking a run-up into a crow hop to slam–
“Woah, hold on there tiger!” Angel laughed, and Husk whirled around to see Angel immersed in the dark shadows of a light that still needed to be replaced. He stepped out, still just the same as he was hours ago: a rubberhose cartoon rendition of the demon he knew, with a grin almost wider than his face.
“Well, hey yourself. Scarin’ the shit outta me,” Husk muttered, straightening out his bowtie and fixing his suspenders as he looked over Angel. “You just been lurking there all night?”
“I heard the telltale swearing and grumbling of my favorite little bartender getting locked out. Lock giving you trouble?” Angel danced over, ghosting a hand along the edges of Husk’s wings as he walked toward the door and fiddled with the key himself.
“Yeah, it gets jammed sometimes. I was gonna just bust through it, ain’t like these doors are mahogany,” Husk said, leaning against the doorframe and looking up toward Angel.
“Well, you can always sleep with me,” Angel said, fluttering his eyes toward Husk. That bold smirk on his face dripped with venom.
“I’ll just chance it in the lobby,” Husk said, spinning round on his heels and making a not-so-subtly hasty exit toward the other end of the hallway. Angel caught his left hand just as he was almost home free, stopping him in his tracks.
“Aww, come on baby,” Angel purred, his breath on the back of Husk’s neck. “I won’t bite. Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna be sharing a bed.”
“Unless you want to,” Angel sang, snickering as he returned to his full height. Husk was grateful the rosy color on his cheeks could be his secret, and he tugged his hand free of Angel’s.
“Fine. No funny business.”
“No funny business,” Angel lied, dropping a spent tube of superglue into a hallway trashcan and ushering Husk back toward his room with the faintest hint of a laugh.
“Come on in, make yourself at home.” Angel swung open the door. Husk had a very funny habit of returning here despite swearing he’d never come back. The neon pink lighting illuminated everything in a warm glow: a plush mattress absolutely devastated with the number of pillows piled at the head of it, Fat Nugget’s bed situated snugly beside Angel’s, and a very cluttered vanity lining the wall.
Husk stepped in, and Angel started dragging a couple blankets and a smattering of pillows onto the floor. The spider gestured toward his bed, putting on a hushed tone as an offhand of his tousled over Fat Nugget’s head, the pig well asleep.
“Go on, you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor, like a perfect gentleman,” Angel whispered, his tongue sticking out as he fluffed the pillows at the top of his bed for Husk.
Husk sighed, taking his hat off and laying it onto the edge of Angel’s vanity. He knew there was gonna be some game to be played in here, but he put a hand onto Angel’s shoulder.
“We can share it, you oaf. You really oughta get like a couch, or a loveseat, or something.” Husk sat at the edge of Angel’s bed, gesturing to the surprisingly clean floorspace. Checkered tiles reflected the lighting like a dappled sea of fuchsia, not even any clothes littering the floor. Almost like Angel had cleaned up and planned for this.
“Well, if you insist,” Angel sing-songed. In a flash he’d nestled in beside Husk, rubbing shoulders. The usually soft fur on Angel had been changed with his transformation, his skin feeling cushy, springy. A little like a marshmallow.
“You wanna switch into some jammies?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Husk rolled his way to the edge of the bed against the wall, grappling a pillow under his head and getting on his side to face toward the window.
“Suit yourself,” Angel said. A few moments passed, and the sounds of zippers and clothes hitting the floor broke through the silence, making Husk’s ears twitch. The weight of Angel getting in beside Husk made the cat roll back ever so slightly, and Angel’s arms wrapped around his waist and under his arms. The four of them nestled him into the curve of Angel’s body.
“You know how I said ‘no funny business’?” Husk muttered, knowing full well his fate was sealed.
“Just cuddlin’,” Angel said, giggling quietly. “Besides, I’m ‘G-rated’. What’s the worst I can do?”
His legs went straddling up and over Husk’s, wrapping around and crossing his ankles together. That weird texture of his cartoon body made it feel like being hugged by a pillow, something thick and squishy. With the arms banding around his chest too, it was blatant that he had no chance to wiggle his way out of Angel’s embrace.
The gloved fingers Angel had traced soft, wide circles in the fur on Husk’s chest. They wound, and wound, until eventually Husk let off a sigh, and slumped his shoulders down. Angel’s cheek nestled against the back of his neck, warm and tender. The slow, even pacing of Angel’s breath sent humid air rolling against him, and eventually Husk’s tensed breathing eased out to match.
“There we go.” Angel rubbed a hand up and down Husk’s shoulder. A quiet, resonant purr rumbled out from Husk’s chest, and he sunk his head back down into the pillow, closing his eyes. The glow of the lights left a dull pink tint to the darkness as he let off another, heavier breath, and Angel squeezed him closer.
Angel shifted forward, his legs pulling Husk’s hips back into the crook of his waist. Husk’s face went red. Angel pressed himself snug against Husk, but there was nothing there, just the smooth, cushy feeling of his skin rubbing against Husk’s warm fur. Angel’s lower arms seemed to tug just for good measure, and he chuckled a little.
“Don’t go getting used to that,” Angel whispered, the smirk on his lips audible. “But for now…”
Angel loosened up his hold, letting his arms relax off Husk’s torso. His legs were still tangled over Husk’s, but he wiggled himself by the waist backwards, giving the cat a little breathing room. Still, he didn’t let go.
“G’night, whiskers.” Angel planted a sappy, warm smooch onto Husk’s cheek from behind, and settled his head onto the pillow beside him. The lights dimmed, and each of them could hear the other’s slow, relaxed breathing as they laid there, waiting for sleep to take its hold.
In the few fleeting moments just before Angel dozed away, he could feel Husk moving, shifting. Nestling backwards into the hold that was made for him.