A/N: This goes between chapters 11 and 12.
Today was one of those days. A day when all Husk felt was almost incurable apathy and he didn't feel like doing anything. It was different from being bored or lonely, it was simply him feeling like nothing mattered and everything was pointless and unsatisfying.
On days like this, he walked. He simply left his house and went wherever his feet took him. Absolutely aimless, completely unplanned, no destination or constrains. Just him walking and looking at the literal hellscape around him passively, not looking for or at anything in particular. Just taking things in and then letting them go as he walked past them.
So walk he did. Slowly but surely leaving behind his home, his neighbourhood, his shopping area, his favourite pubs, and then the hubbub of the central city.
He didn't know how long he had walked already; neither the distance nor the time. But he did become aware that he was somewhat lost. Not completely so, he was still near the perimeter of the central city, but he didn't know exactly where. Not that it truly mattered; even if he got lost, he had his wings and could easily scout around for familiar landmarks and fly there very quickly.
The thing was, his apathy was giving way to tiredness, fucking finally, so knowing where he was was starting to become relevant. He would actually like a snack now, his lack of appetite from the morning abating. Or perhaps a nap. Or a beer. Or any combination of the three. Preferably all three, actually. Though the nap would be harder to obtain than the others since sleeping in random places was risky at best. Maybe just a snack and then he'd go home.
He stretched his wings in preparation of taking off, but stopped in his tracks when he suddenly felt something peculiar. It was hard to explain. Like a… pull. To a certain direction. Not a physical pull, but a… mental one, maybe? Like a suggestion.
He frowned, and turned to the direction in question. It led further away from the city, towards a local housing area. Why the fuck would he feel the need to go there?
Should he trust a random feeling? There might be a siren demon or something calling out for nearby fools. Or a fucking ritual of some kind.
Except… Except the feeling made him think of Alastor, for some reason. It felt vaguely like Alastor in a weird, abstract way.
What the actual fuck?
He took a few hesitant steps in the direction he was being pulled to, and the feeling got stronger.
...Wait.
He pulled out his house keys and looked at the keychain charm he had made out of one of Alastor's antlers. Yes, the feeling was definitely coming from that.
Well then. At least that meant it was safe to follow it – as insane as that would probably sound like to someone who wasn't best friends with the Radio Demon.
Husk began following the pull while keeping the keys on his palm. After a while it turned slightly, and the pull did the same. Husk followed its every whim obediently, and eventually found a relatively isolated house. It was red, and it looked like a normal house on the surface, but there was an unsettling air around it that made it seem somewhat sinister and warned him not to approach it.
That is, for about two seconds. Then the feeling kind of… snapped and disappeared.
Husk took that as a permission to walk up to the front door and knock.
Nobody answered. Alastor probably wasn't home.
Now what? He could leave. Or he could try the handle and see if the door was open or would otherwise let him enter.
He smirked. Alastor didn't give a fuck whether Husk was home or not, asleep or awake, wanted company or not if he felt like popping in, so why should he?
He turned the handle, and was disappointed to find the door locked. That is, until it became unlocked on its own and suddenly the way in was open for him.
Alastor's magic certainly had its perks.
Husk went in and yes, this was Alastor's house. It was funny how he had been inside multiple times, but had never before seen the outside. Alastor had always directly magicked them, or just Husk, here.
Husk put the key away and made a beeline to the kitchen. He raided the fridge for some leftover étouffée – he was very fucking thankful for finding a crawfish-based food, because he sure as fuck wasn't risking eating anything with meat out of Alastor's fridge – and washed it down with whiskey. He left the dishes in the sink to be Alastor's problem, and walked back into the living room.
For a mad moment he looked in the direction of the bedroom. If he wanted to be an ass, he could go take his nap in Alastor's bed. He had been in the bedroom exactly once, when Alastor had given him the grand tour. But afterwards he had respected Alastor's privacy and stayed out.
Now it was fucking tempting, just because he had free reign of the house until Alastor came home. He was shedding, too, so he could leave a nice layer of gray and white fur between the sheets.
Unfortunately, he was a lot more respectful of Alastor's boundaries than the guy was of his. That, and he wasn't sure if he could fall asleep in a bed where Alastor slept every night; he'd be too distracted imagining Alastor there by his side and-
Nope. Not going there. He was not fucking thinking that. No.
The couch was good. He liked the couch. It was comfortable. He had slept there before on multiple occasions. No reason to change a good habit now.
Husk dropped his hat on the coffee table, grabbed the red quilt, and settled down on his spot on the couch.
ooooo
Husk woke up to the sound of the door closing. It was soon followed by Alastor humming, then the sound of him removing articles of clothing – presumably his coat and shoes – then a rustle of paper. Husk opened his eyes to slits but didn't move; he was content to let Alastor discover him on his own.
Alastor entered the living room, but was so completely engrossed in a paper of some kind that he didn't stop to glance around in the slightest. Honestly, though, Husk couldn't blame him: why would he expect anyone to be in his home? That, and peering through that monocle in order to read fine print looked really inconvenient and like it required his full concentration.
Husk watched Alastor walk right past him without a clue, and had to refrain from snickering.
And then his thoughts came to a screeching halt as he saw It.
Alastor had a deer tail.
A black and red, adorable little deer tail that Husk had never had the pleasure of seeing before, despite Alastor going around without his coat all the damn time while visiting him. And Husk definitely fucking looked at that ass whenever he was absolutely certain Alastor wouldn't notice, so him having missed a fucking tail was impossible.
How and why? How had he not seen it? Why the hell had he not seen it?
His eyes were glued on the damn thing until Alastor's fine behind disappeared into the kitchen.
Husk's mind was working furiously.
So. He should have seen that tail before. It was really fucking unsubtle and he definitely looked. That meant it was normally not there to be seen. But it was there now. What was different? ...Alastor was at the privacy of his home. But he had been here in Husk's company before with no tail. ...Which meant he hid it when he had company, and Husk wasn't an exception to the rule, for once.
Which meant Husk wasn't supposed to have seen it.
Shit.
He hurriedly closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly in order to feign sleep, just to be on the safe side when Alastor realized he wasn't alone. Which he would any moment now.
He was just in time, as not a second later he heard hurried footsteps coming his way from the kitchen. Alastor must have noticed the dishes.
Husk willed his heartbeat to slow the fuck down, and continued his act until he felt Alastor's presence looming over him. That was his cue to pretend to stir, stretch like the cat he was, blink his bleary eyes, and notice Alastor.
Alastor, who had the fucking gall to look at him accusingly. "Hello, Husker. What a surprise to see you at my house uninvited."
What a fucking hypocrite. Husk yawned before even bothering to answer. "Hey, Al. That's some funny shit coming from someone who routinely appears inside of my house every other day."
Alastor looked like he wanted to retort, but he obviously couldn't because Husk was one hundred percent right and they both knew it. It was fucking hilarious.
"How did you even find here? You have never had to use the door." Alastor asked with a faux cheerful look, trying to mask his indignation and neatly dismissing the previous argument.
This was the best fucking thing in weeks. Alastor was caught completely flatfooted and it was great.
"I found your hoofprints and followed them", Husk said with a smirk and sat up. He idly detangled the quilt from his feet and tail while Alastor clearly debated whether to call him out on his obvious fucking bullshit or not. Husk's smirk widened. "By the way, your bedsheets are really fucking staticky and impossible to sleep in. I think I left half my fur there before I had to give up and sleep here instead."
Alastor's smile froze. This was sweet payback for all of those times Alastor appeared in his house without any fucking warning. Sweet, sweet payback. Husk could almost hear the internal fucking screaming, and Alastor's expression clearly spelled out the need to go and check, but his pride was stopping him from giving Husk the satisfaction.
The. Best. Fucking. Thing.
"I see", Alastor said, and whirled around towards the kitchen. Husk gave a very quick glance down and damn it, no tail anymore. Not that he had expected anything different, but it was still a shame; he would have loved to look some more "I suppose I should play the good host and brew some coffee, then."
Husk watched Alastor walk away, and stretched some more to get his blood flowing. Then he tilted his ears in the direction of the bedroom and waited.
A second later he heard the sound of covers being moved, and he fucking cackled.
Husk didn't bother hiding his laughter as he went to the kitchen to see about actually getting that coffee started, while Alastor presumably had a small meltdown in the bedroom.
Sweet, sweet payback.