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"Fuck… me…" Angel murmurs as his entire back cracks upon shifting slightly in the backseat of the taxi. Damn, fourteen hours on a mattress will really screw your spinal cord over. "Hey, how long till we get there?"
The taxi driver peers at him through the rear-view mirror, and Angel recognises this one as a regular for his late-night appointments. He wishes he could remember her name, but more often than not he's high off his ass and/or blackout drunk whenever he sees her.
"Just a few minutes, Angel. You all good?"
Ah, she's one of the nice ones. He remembers now.
"Oh, you know me, right as rain as always," he replies half-heartedly as he notices a slightly bleeding cut across his thigh. "Any idea who the customer is today?"
"Someone in the casino district," she replies, casually flipping off another vehicle for whatever reason. "Payed in advance, quite a lot, I think, otherwise I wouldn't be called in so early."
"Huh," Angel picks at the blood-tinged fur around the cut, mind already dropping into the zoned out state he uses for rich clients. Dumb, sultry, and a whole lot of flattering.
When they pull into their destination, undoubtedly on time, it's not one that Angel recognises. Most sinners in this corner of Hell are so wasted on chips and card games that they barely know his name, and Val cares so little about trying to get them to buy his merchandise that he only has fifty advertising boards on the whole street.
"Good luck," the taxi driver says with a wry smile as he unfolds himself from the taxi, "Be careful. I'll be here waiting when you're done. You've got my number if you need anything, right?"
Angel draws his brows together and hums.
"What's your name again?"
"Katie," she says with a little chuckle.
"Oh right! Yes, I do. Thanks."
"Here's the room," she gives him a slip of paper with some numbers on it, "Just show this to the reception staff and they'll direct you."
"You're the best," Angel replies, taking the paper and blowing her a wavering kiss as he begins to walk towards the designated building. It's colder here than in the rest of Hell, maybe from all of the shattered dreams, and Angel draws his jacket a little closer about his shoulders. He just threw it on after shooting, so it's the only thing he's wearing on his top half, paired with a pink skirt with a slit over the cut thigh.
He quickly shimmies the skirt around so that the slit is showing his undamaged leg, and pushes the casino door open. It's surprisingly quiet, only a hum of upbeat music playing from the speakers accompaning the low chatter and occasional shriek of someone who's just lost their life savings to a tacky arcade machine. The lights are low and warm, and of course there are no windows.
"Hey," he sets his confident persona on as he makes for the front desk, where a bored rabbit-sinner is lounging. "I'm looking for someone. Think ya can point me in the right direction?"
He slides the piece of paper onto the desk, and the rabbit looks up in surprise, taking it suspiciously whilst looking him up and down.
"What's your name?" the rabbit asks him warily, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the paper. Angel tries to ignore his stomach, which does a little flip to suggest maybe it's the wrong bit of paper and he's royally fucked up, again.
"C'mon, you don't know me?" he asks, leaning an arm on the counter and doing his best charming seductor impression.
The rabbit raises an eyebrow.
Angel drops his arm and slumps his shoulders.
"It's Angel Dust," he says monotonously.
"Ah, yes." The rabbit turns to the computer on the desk and begins to tap away at it, taking far longer than it ought to. Finally: "Okay, you're in room 12. Second floor, the elevator is right over there."
He follows the rabbit's gesture, heading over to the elevator and stabbing the '2' button with his finger. As he begins to rise, his mind clouds over further, and he slumps against the wall of the elevator for a few precious moments, taking a few deep breaths and wishing he'd remembered his weed.
The doors ping open, and he's in a long corridor with rubbish patterned carpet and shitty lighting. This must be where all the shithead addicts stay overnight; he bets the casino makes tons off it.
Room 9, Room 10, 11…
Room 12. It looks the same as all the others. He eyes the door handle, but decides to knock. Always best to be polite, he finds, rather than create problems before they've started on their own.
Knock, knock.
A couple seconds, and nothing.
Knock, knock, he tries again.
Nothing.
His fingers reach for the doorknob, and his mind slips properly as it turns.
"Heyyyy, it's me," he says in his most seductive, playful manner. "I'm lookin' for a very well paying guy to show me what else he's got in his pockets…"
The room's completely empty, just a bed, nightstand and dresser. He notices a doorway to his left though, a bathroom, perhaps?
"Come out, come out, wherever you-"
The door opens, and an all-too-familiar feline face pokes out of it.
"-HuSk!" Angel startles, dropping all of his pretenses.
"Hey-" Husk begins, but he's succeeded in completely and absolutely freaking Angel out.
"What are you doin' here!? I got a payin' customer somewhere around here, and Val's gonna have my guts if I don't give him his money's worth. Get the fuck out!"
Husk frowns, exiting the bathroom fully and skirting around Angel to sit on the bed. Angel tries not to look at him, he doesn't need this now, he doesn't need any more reminders of who he betrayed.
"Angel, this is my room," Husk says with a tone Angel can't quite place, and Angel feels a heavy gaze on him. The bartender suddenly seems rather sure of himself, and also quite amused for reasons that Angel can't understand.
"Okay, then clearly that fucking rabbit gave me the wrong directions. D'ya know if there's anyone else staying here that wanted me?"
Husk folds his lips in on themselves a little, mouth tilting up in a suppressed smile. Angel's really not sure what's funny, and he's really not paying attention to Husk's lips at all, actually.
"Look, I've got a customer. This is very important, he payed a lot-"
"Damn right I did," Husk says slowly, his voice dropping as he looks Angel dead in the eye. "And I expect to get my money's worth."
Angel's jaw drops.
"Wha- Did… It's you?!"
Husk responds only with a quiet chuckle, a light blush appearing over his face.
Angel's mind is spinning, and he takes a step back to slump against the door, all the energy fleeing his body like air from a popped balloon.
"You're the client?" he asks again, more firmly.
Husk tilts his head, staring at Angel as if he's trying to decipher him.
"Yes."
"Why?" The question is charged, and sharp.
Husk frowns.
"Why?" He echoes. "Angel, you know why, you must know."
Angel doesn't. He refuses to know.
"You shouldn't try to see me," he mutters, arms coming up in a subconscious self-embrace as he turns further away from Husk. "It's too dangerous."
"I'm not scared of you," Husk replies simply, assuredly, and it's all Angel wants to drop into his arms and never leave that warmth again.
A pause.
"You should be," Angel whispers, afraid that his voice any louder would reveal the emotion fighting its way up his throat.
Husk shakes his head slowly, standing up and taking a very small step towards Angel.
"I'm not," he promises, eye contact secure and unmoving, "I-"
Angel searches Husk's face desperately as he becomes, for the first time tonight, lost for words.
"I can't be here," Angel says through gritted teeth, "I gotta go.."
"No, Angel-" Husk's voice laced with despair stops his spin towards the door. "I can't-"
Angel pauses.
"You can't…?"
"Don't go?" Husk asks, and this time it's a beg, his ears curled downwards, his eyes wide and soft.
Angel's tongue wrestles with his teeth, his lips parting, and closing, and no, he doesn't have an answer.
"I-"
"It doesn't matter," Husk interrupts, and for some reason he's smiling, his lips parted as breaths of scarcely believed mirth escape from them. "It doesn't matter. I've paid for you, you have to stay, please…"
Angel's neck twists as he fixes Husk with a stare, and he can't stop the tears beginning to prick at the back of his eyes.
"So what?" he says brokenly. "I gotta stay, so what? Don't tell me you finally want me to fuck you, because this is a real shit time-"
"No! Nothing like that, not if you don't want to, not ever-"
A pause.
Angel's shoulders drop, and he blinks a couple of times along with Husk, as both men go over what's just been said.
"You… want to?"
Husk's eyes widen, and his ears suddenly stand bolt upright.
"Did I say that? I don't think I said that.. was that? Did I?"
Angel winces as Husk's voice climbs higher and higher pitch with each word.
"Well, I don't know," Angel raises his own voice, "You never showed any interest before!"
"That's because I couldn't- I wasn't gonna do that to you, Angel!"
"Do what? Your dick can't be that bad-"
"Oh, shut up," Husk laughs, but also he's tearing up now. He sinks to the floor against the side of the bed, knees curled up into his chest and wings crumpled against his back, and tears silently trickling over the fur on his cheeks. Despite it, he's smiling, laughing even, and as his head tips back to rest against the mattress, two glistening eyes slide over still to rest on Angel's, shining with everything.
"How long did you pay for?" Angel asks quietly after a few moments.
"Couple hours," Husk replies gruffly, not averting his gaze.
"Alright then," Angel says simply, his voice cracking a little as he moves over to Husk, sitting down beside him, legs laid out in front. "Here I am."
Husk turns his head to maintain a view of Angel, and now they're much closer together, and Angel is looking back at him, and there's maybe a centimetre parting them.
"May I?" Husk asks, very, very gently.
Angel's breath disappears from his chest.
"Yeah," He says, not knowing really what he's agreeing to but trusting, knowing that anything Husk wants to do to him is welcome.
But what Husk does is not what he was expecting. He thought maybe a kiss, or…
Husk turns so he is resting half on his side, and lays his head gently in the crook where Angel's neck meets his shoulder, so close that Angel shivers at the feel of the feline's humid breath against his skin. Next, Husk's legs shift up and over Angel's, his knees pressing against Angel's middle, and now there seems not an inch of Husk that isn't tangled with an inch of Angel.
A hot tear slips off Husk's cheek and seeps into the fur on Angel's collarbone.
"I missed you," Husk whispers.
Angel opens his mouth but only a strangled sound escapes it, so he buries his face into the fluff between Husk's ears, clutching at the cat's fur with all of his arms. Husk releases a relieved groan into Angel's shoulder, pressing against him even more securely as his breath comes out in disbelieving puffs.
They hold each other, they cry, it has to be confessed. They whisper nothing and think about everything and trace circles in each other's fur. If Angel feels a terrified kiss pressed briefly against his neck then he doesn't bring it up, and if Husk's skin begins to bruise under Angel's grip then he doesn't dare to tell him.
"What're we gonna do?" Angel mumbles after a lifetime.
Husk lifts his head.
"Damn, Ang, that's a big ask…"
"Not forever," Angel corrects himself, "Ya payed for two hours, remember?"
Husk just buried his face into Angel's chest, his own shaking with silent laughter that could also be sobs.
"You're ridiculous," he declares, the words almost completely muffled. "Hang on, I got something we can do…"
And that's how Angel found himself cross-legged on the floor of a casino room, yelling at the top of his lungs and having the most fun he'd seen for weeks.
"UNO!"
"Motherfucker," Husk curses with a grin, sorting through his hand desperately. "This has to be the worst hand ever dealt in the history of Uno playing."
"Maybe I'm just better than you," Angel smirks.
"At a luck-based game? Sure," Husk scoffs, finally playing a green 2.
With far more triumph than is wholly necessary, Angel slaps a Pick Up Two card down and throws his hands up in celebration.
"Fuck," Husk laughs, "I'm really shit at this."
"At a luck-based game?" Angel echoes his words from just a moment before. "Bullshit."
Husk just grins, taking in the sight of his Angel, who in turn lets his eyes drink the love in the gaze of his kitty.
And if Angel switches his phone onto silent when the call from Katie erupts from the screen, well, nobody's gonna know.
Anything's worth it for a little more time.