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“Angel?”
“Mhm?” Angel refuses to open his eyes. He’s more than comfortable with his head resting in Husk’s lap, surprisingly tender claws sifting through his hair.
Nothing can pull him from this blissful state. Angel’s too relaxed to worry about anyth—
“How d’ya feel about kissing?”
Oh. Something can. Angel cracks open an eye and tries his best to look thoughtful while his brain prepares to rev up into panic mode.
“I like it,” he says after a silence that stretched too long for his words to carry any real confidence. “Feels nice.”
He swallows and hopes his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels. “Don’t care much for the whole tongue thing though.”
There. A casual answer anyone could give. Congratulations. No need to get into his head why tongues are an issue.
No. Need.
Angel takes a steadying breath.
“Hmph.” The noise Husk makes lands somewhere between thoughtful and frustrated.
Angel arches an eyebrow, looking up at him. “What’s with the grumpy face? You got a tongue fetish or something?” Please no.
Husk shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Just realized I've been missing out on kissing ya for way too long.”
Angel sits up, staring at Husk, eyes narrowed, arms crossed in front of his body. All of them.
“Don't know why you're complaining,” he says, defensive mode kicking in, as if he had to justify why he, of all people, had failed to bring up kissing until now. Angel Dust, Hell's hottest porn star, too fucking gutless to kiss his … person while not hesitating to blow a whole movie cast on a single afternoon. Now that's a headline. “All ya had to do was ask. I didn’t stop ya.”
“Oh, shut up,” Husk mutters.
“Why? Your ego too fragile to—”
Husk lets out an exasperated huff. “Because I wanna kiss you,” he says, voice soft in a way Angel has never heard before. “Kinda challenging when ya won't stop yapping.”
“Oh.” Slowly, Angel uncrosses his arms and lowers them to his sides. Why does his laugh sound so embarrassingly self-conscious? “Right. In that case…”
For a moment, Angel scrambles for something to say, something cool and easy-going and definitely not pathetic. When the words won’t come, he pretends to lock his lips with an invisible key and throws it away over his shoulder. Grinning, he leans towards Husk, pursing his lips.
Cool is sold out, obviously.
Husk rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother to act annoyed. He places a hand on the back of Angel's neck, slowly moving his fingers upwards, back into his hair. An emotion flickers over his face. Maybe it's longing, but it's hidden away again so quickly that Angel can't even begin to make sense of it.
Husk's careful fingers chase the tension from Angel's body until the grin softens into a genuine smile. Only then does Husk pull him closer. When their lips meet, the touch is gentle. Not cautious, as if Angel could break at any moment now, but a conscious, confident movement of lips against lips, hands buried in warm fur. Angel's stomach twists in some embarrassingly affectionate way that makes him grin into the kiss like the smitten loser that he is.
There is not a trace of tongue involved.
When they part, Husk’s hand stays in Angel’s hair, claws gently scraping over his scalp, raising goosebumps on Angel’s skin.
“Felt nice?” Husk asks, his voice low and rough as if he needed to remember how to use it.
“Mmh,” Angel hums. “More than nice.”
There is a short pause before he adds, “Might even be in for another one.”
“Oh?” Husk raises an eyebrow that only pretends to be skeptical. The smile curving his lips is a fond one.
“Yeah," Angel drawls. "We should kiss again, ya know. So I can make up my mind.”
Husk chuckles as he leans in without hesitation. Angel meets him halfway, a smile already on his lips before they even touch.
He hadn’t known happiness had a taste.