A/N: Prompts by Deskdraik, Ametan, AND anon:
1. I need a jealous Alastor! maybe one where someone gets very close to Husk and then that person mysteriously disappears and Alastor has a full refrigerator. Maybe doing something yandere, where he offers Husk some meatloaf, from the person. Heck, I really like dark fics, but if you want you can do it fluffy.
2. Alastor getting jealous of Husk because Husk has a new friend and actually wants to spend time with them?
3. Can Angel flirt with Husk, and Husk be rather meh about it but is confronted by jealous Alastor? I know Al is double As, but I think he can b jealous of attention.

I'm getting the feeling that people want a jealous Alastor or something? : D

So. This sure didn't end up being a drabble. It's a full length chapter. Which... appropriate, since it covers three peoples' prompts? XD

This happens roughly a week before the serenade war ;)

Husker was having a conversation with Angel Dust again. He had been doing that in increasing amounts lately, especially compared to how he had been actively pushing him – everyone, really – away on every possible manner not that long ago.

Alastor's grin sharpened and his eyes narrowed as he watched them from the other side of the room, ignoring the uninteresting and unimportant company he was with. He was itching to magic his way over there and insert himself into their conversation. To subtly push Angel out of it somewhere down the line and have Husker's undivided attention on himself, and most importantly away from Angel.

He had been feeling this way on a few occasions recently, and it was disconcerting. He didn't like it at all. Alastor felt… threatened by Angel's newly found presence in Husker's afterlife. And he knew why, as much as he hated to admit it.

It was a well known fact that Angel was interested in Husker in a romantic manner, to some extent. He had made that abundantly clear over the months; even Alastor had been able to see it despite his slowness at recognizing these things. Now, Husker was Alastor's sheik, and hadn't shown any interest in Angel at any point during their stay at the hotel. But, on a theoretical level, Angel had more to offer to Husker than Alastor did if the two of them were to pursue a romantic relationship. And that left Alastor feeling ill at ease.

Angel was surprisingly sweet and intelligent. When he put aside his… questionable public persona, he was admittedly fun to be around. Not Alastor's preferred company by any means, but Angel had come far since the beginning of his stay at the hotel and he now had a lot of genuine friends and admirers within the clientèle. He had the sort of charm that put people around him at ease, unlike Alastor whose presence unnerved people even when he tried to be friendly, and exhausted them in the cases where someone actually tried to return the courtesy. Now that Angel had mostly dropped his attempts to flirt with Husker, his company seemed well received. His progress at befriending Husker was going infinitely faster than Alastor's had – it had taken Alastor almost a year before Husker had accepted his presence to the point where he had been able to stop actively anticipating the day where Husker turned him away. Angel had been making leaps and bounds towards that point in a matter of weeks now that Husker wasn't pushing everyone away in his misery. ...Alastor still felt rotten about letting said misery fester right under his nose, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

Another point. As far as Alastor knew, Angel was physically attractive; he wouldn't be so popular in the adult film industry if he wasn't, or so Alastor assumed. Alastor honestly didn't know whether he himself was attractive to people in general, even if he knew Husker found him pleasing to the eye. If only because love was supposedly in the eye of the beholder. The concept of physical attraction was so beyond Alastor's understanding that he had stopped trying to make sense of it decades ago. Point was, Angel was probably conventionally attractive and Husker was likely aware of it, because most people noticed things like that.

That made him a fun AND an attractive person to be around. Theoretically, there was no reason for Husker to not consider it, since Angel was clearly interested.

But the real thing that made Alastor more wary than he liked to admit was the fact that Angel would happily reciprocate any and all feelings a normal romantic relationship contained. He could love Husker on an emotional level. He would be more than happy with physical intimacy.

Alastor was incapable of both.

Or, if he was perfectly truthful, he wasn't so much incapable of the physical side as he was absolutely disgusted and disturbed by it. There was a difference. He could, technically, lay with Husker if he had to. But the idea alone made his skin crawl. Made him want to grab a knife and peel off his own hide. Made his stomach churn and threaten to expel his last meal. Made him feel like he couldn't get air into his lungs and made his vision tunnel in sheer, blind panic. He was physically able to have sex, yes, but he would quite simply much rather die.

He was also endlessly bitter about his inability to return Husker's feelings properly. He wanted to make him happy. He wanted to ensure he stayed with him forever. But he couldn't muster up the kind of love that would better his chances.

So, what if… What if Husker realized that Angel could offer him so much more than Alastor?

If this issue had been presented to him a few months ago, it wouldn't have even been an issue. Husker would have been free to date Angel as long as Alastor was still his best friend. As simple as that. Probably. Maybe.

But now? Now Alastor had gotten to taste a new level of closeness with Husker. He had discovered new enjoyable ways to touch him and interact with him. New, absolutely precious sides that Husker hadn't let him see before. Moments of blissful happiness that hadn't been possible before, because Husker hadn't let him close enough, hadn't felt comfortable enough to let it happen, let it show. And Alastor was addicted. Completely hooked. He didn't want to let go of it now that he had it. He couldn't bear the thought of having to return to what they had before this. Of letting the distance grow again. Of losing the privilege to brush Husker's fur, groom his wings, cuddle entire nights away, have Husker sometimes purr at the mere sight of him, have him melt into his every touch. Alastor didn't even want to give up the kissing, even if he wasn't receptive to the idea every day. He had found that some days he actually wanted to do it now because it made him feel close to Husker in a strange way that nothing else did – maybe because he did it with nobody else but him.

No. He didn't want to lose that. He was terrified of the thought of Husker choosing someone else over him and withdrawing what they had now. Because he would. Husker allowed these new additions to their relationship solely because they were sheiks. If they broke up, the privileges would be taken away. He might even take back some of the things they had before, just because he would have someone else to do it with. Would cuddling be allowed? Nuzzling his face? Could they still go grocery shopping together or not? Alastor didn't know where the line would be drawn and it made him anxious.

Husker might even leave him completely, friendship and everything. That happened often when people broke up. Friendships were ruined because of failed attempts at romance. Husker didn't talk about it directly, but Alastor had started gaining pieces of a story, or stories, that implied that exact thing had happened to Husker before. It may even have been the reason he hadn't wanted to tell Alastor about his feelings for literal decades. So it was most definitely a real thing that happened when love failed.

And that is why Alastor wanted to stop Angel Dust from getting any closer to Husker. A preemptive measure, one could say. Just to make sure he wouldn't threaten the happiness they had found by offering Husker things Alastor couldn't.

But interrupting their conversation wouldn't really be enough. He couldn't keep doing that infinitely. He had work to do, and Husker would be annoyed by the constant interruptions anyway. No, he needed to think of something else.

Maybe Husker wouldn't notice or care if Angel went missing? Angel was skinny; he could fit in Alastor's freezer if he was cut up just right. The extermination day was only a couple of months away, and he would be easy to store until then. Nobody would think to look for him there.

But Alastor had promised Charlie to not purposefully hurt the patrons of the hotel.

Should he make Angel leave first? That way he would technically honor his promise. But how? Angel had been around the longest and was making good progress; he had no desire to leave. He couldn't be directly threatened either, as he would simply tell Charlie about it. Hmm…

Alastor suddenly became aware of feeling eyes on him and snapped out of his thoughts. His gaze focused on Husker again, and he found that it was actually him whose stare he felt. Husker's impressive eyebrows were furrowed, but then twitched up when their eyes locked. He raised one of the eyebrows higher, and then made a "come here" gesture with a claw.

Angel Dust was no longer around, Alastor noted. When had he left? How long had he been spacing out?

Annoyed with himself but trying to not show it, he magicked his way to Husker. He appeared on the bar stool in front of his sheik, leaned his arms on the counter, and gave him a wide smile. "You called, my sweet?"

Husker looked unimpressed. "Yeah, and you can cut the cutesy bullshit right now. What the hell is up?"

Alastor blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Pardon?"

"You were glaring daggers from across the room for a longass time, and then you zoned the fuck out while kind of… awkwardly staring at me", Husker said, and crossed his arms. Alastor could hear his tail sweeping the floor agitatedly behind the counter. "This isn't the first time you've done this, either. Mind, it's been brief before, but I've noticed. So, how about you fucking spill the beans before this turns into some weirdass crisis or something."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. He did not appreciate Husker calling… this… a crisis. And he was admittedly miffed at having been caught. He tapped his fingers on the counter while considering his options. On one hand, he didn't like being called out. On the other hand, maybe the situation could be resolved easily if he simply told Husker to stop being so chummy with Angel. If he reached out and scratched Husker on the right spot while doing it, he could even better his chances of getting what he wanted.

He looked at Husker's worried expression and forced himself to abandon the plan of manipulating him just to make his own life easier. He was trying his hardest to not do that anymore; it led to Husker agreeing to things that made him unhappy in the long run, and Alastor was striving to keep him happy.

His happy Husker.

No manipulating. He needed to approach this differently.

"Has Angel Dust been bothering you?" Alastor asked, keeping his tone carefully light. "He seems to be at the counter all the time now."

Husker's eyebrows rose again and Alastor could almost see the gears turning in his head. Husker had a really sharp mind when it wasn't addled with too much alcohol, and as such a strangely knowing look overtook his features in no time. "You're jealous of Angel Dust."

...This was not going to the direction Alastor had thought it would.

"Why would I be jealous of Angel Dust?" he asked defensively, and summoned his microphone stand on his free hand to have something other than Husker to look at. He didn't want to keep seeing that knowing look that made him question himself too much.

The feeling wasn't jealousy. He was just reasonably worried. Moderately possessive. Understandably threatened. A bit terrified. Feeling maybe a little inadequate. A dash murderous.

Surely those didn't spell out jealousy?

"Honestly? Fuck if I know", Husker said, and Alastor was startled into looking at him again when his paw landed softly on top of Alastor's hand, stilling his drumming fingers. Husker was giving him a soft look, with half-lidded eyes, a small smile and relaxed ears. It never failed to make Alastor feel calmer, more relaxed, more valued than ever before. "Pretty sure you're the motherfucker I'm in love with, not anyone else. You're at least twice as handsome as Angel is. You're twice as annoying as well, but I'm used to your brand of annoyance, so I don't give a shit. You're much funnier than he is. You're the only one whose hugs I actually want and who I voluntarily purr for. I don't even need to muster up the energy to fuck you to keep you happy, so that makes my life nice and easy. And you have a lot less grabby fucking hands than Angel does, which, trust me, is a damn good thing. I'm not gonna house train another clingy jackass when I finally have you where I want you, so throw any moronic worries out of your pretty red head and stop plotting his murder."

...How did Husker do this? How did he know the exact right words to say to him, when even he hadn't known what he had wanted to hear? He had thought getting rid of the problem – as in Angel Dust – would make the feeling of inadequacy go away, but now it was erased with just words and Husker's paw on his hand instead.

This was similar to how he had felt less and less need to commit mass-murder once he met Husker. He hadn't noticed it at first. When he did, he tried to correct course and make up for the lost time, but it wasn't the same anymore; he didn't feel the burning need to do it, and instead he just went through the motions. And then he realized it was because the void he had been trying to fill with it had ceased to be; Husker had somehow filled it. Yes, he did still occasionally broadcast even now, but it was no longer… compulsive. He simply did it when he felt like it; be it because someone needed to be taught a lesson, because he was hungry, because he wanted to listen to screams, because he was angry about something, because of whatever. There was a reason for every instance now, no matter how frivolous. It hadn't been so before he met Husker.

And now. Now Husker was calming down yet another murderous instinct of his.

How?

"...You were actually plotting his fucking murder, weren't you?" Husker suddenly asked, snapping Alastor out of his thoughts.

Alastor looked at their hands, and carefully turned his palm up so he could lace their fingers together. Then he smiled at Husker. "Did you want to hear the details of the plan?"

Husker squeezed his hand.

"If anyone who talks to me here disappears abruptly, the first thing I'll do is fucking confiscate your freezer. Just so you know."

...How?