A/N: This chapter goes between chapters 7 and 8 of "Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife".
"Husker, are you home?" Alastor's sing-songy voice sounded from the general direction of his front door. Husk huffed at his own reflection, and put his brush back into the mirror cabinet after binning the tufts of fur from its bristles.
The bastard hadn't even bothered to call him beforehand this time. For fuck's sake, were even the barest of boundaries getting obsolete between them at this point? He may have admitted that he enjoys Alastor's company, but he would still like some privacy and peace to be had in his own fucking home.
"If I say no, will you believe me?" he asked loudly, but exited the bathroom anyway.
Alastor was standing in his living room, carrying a shopping bag and wearing a positively ecstatic smile.
"Probably not!" he answered, and laughed. "I'm glad you're home. I have the most pressing need to make something, and I believe you'll be the perfect person take care of the end product for me!"
Husk was not sure how much healthy suspicion should be applied to that statement. He eyed the shopping bag. It was a regular Hellmart bag, so it most likely had groceries, which would mean cooking, which he certainly wouldn't be saying no to; Alastor was one hell of a good cook.
Of course, Alastor might also be reusing the bag and that would mean it could contain absolutely anything from craft supplies to fucking body parts.
...He was willing to risk it. He didn't want to miss potential food just because he might end up with a macaroni necklace kind of thing made out of demon spine instead.
"Sure", he said, and Alastor beamed at him.
Damn, Alastor was entirely too cute for a fucking serial killer at times.
"Swell! Come with me!"
Husk obediently followed Alastor into his kitchen, and watched as his guest unloaded the bag on the counter.
Eggs, milk, flour, butter, sugar – a baking project, then. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, three kinds of chocolate, whipping cream, caramel sauce, vanilla ice cream, strawberry jam, orange marmalade…
Husk's eyes were likely the size of saucers as he watched the escalating pile of yummies. Just what the hell kind of a hugeass dessert was Alastor going to make and how in the name of all things good did he expect Husk to eat all of it?
"I don't know your preferences, so I got a little bit of everything I. You should whip the cream first", Alastor said, and handed Husk a very bulky hand mixer that he knew for a fact he didn't own. He was beyond questioning these things anymore, however, so he simply did as asked. He also paid no mind to the familiar apron that appeared on him.
Alastor mixed a batter of some kind, and set in aside. He then picked up the chocolates and turned to look at Husk. "What is your opinion on the different chocolates? Any you don't like?"
Husk set the mixer down, and looked at the options. Milk, white, and dark. Just the basics, then. He shrugged. "I'm fine with all of those. Might prefer milk chocolate over the others, I suppose."
Alastor nodded, and turned around to break about a third a bar of each into separate bowls. "I see. I find it too sweet. Dark chocolate is the only palatable kind, and it needs to contain at least 60% of cocoa to be bitter enough for me."
Huh. So Alastor didn't care for sweet things? Husk had noted a distinct lack of desserts during the few meals they had eaten together, and now it made sense.
"Slice some of the strawberries and a banana. Thinly."
Husk did as asked. He glanced up from his work and in Alastor's direction when pots and pans started appearing. Alastor prepared a small pan of water – huh, that one was actually his – and set the chocolate bowls near it, so Husk assumed the chocolates would be melted. Then a thin pan was set on the stove…
Wait.
He looked at the batter bowl, and then at the pan.
"Are you making crepes?" he asked quietly, eyes glued to the pan.
"Why, yes! Do you like them?"
Husk didn't stop to think. He just acted.
He dropped the knife on the cutting board, walked over to the curious looking Alastor, and hugged the man. Alastor stiffened for a moment, and then chuckled. "This is a side of you I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before. What-"
"I fucking love crepes and I haven't had any since my death", Husk said into Alastor's shoulder.
Yes, he was being emotional over fucking crepes. In his defense, it had been well over ten damn years – pushing fifteen – since he had had any, and the last ones had been the shitty store-bought kind. Now he had a competent cook making him some from the fucking scratch, so in his opinion he was perfectly justified in being mushy about it.
Alastor hummed and scratched the nape of Husk's neck with the hand that Husk hadn't accidentally trapped with his embrace. "Looks like I made an ace decision, then."
Damn, the scratching felt way too nice and Husk actually found himself reluctant to end the embrace. But he wanted the crepes and Alastor couldn't make them if he kept hanging onto him.
Maybe that was for the best. He wasn't sure he'd be able to live with himself if he was the one to start a fucking cuddlefest with Alastor. It was bad enough that he had gotten used to Alastor's constant touchy-feely bullshit.
"Yes. Now shut up and make them", he said and pulled away, trying to not look too self-conscious about it.
Alastor laughed. "I'm pretty certain I haven't been beating my gums much anyway."
Husk couldn't stop a small grin. "I still see your mouth moving while your hands aren't."
Alastor laughed some more, but got back to work. He did turn on a music channel, though. So to speak.
Husk finished slicing the fruit, and then opened the jarred goods and found suitable spoons for serving their contents. Alastor ushered him to the table at that point, and Husk sat down expectantly.
Soon enough Alastor presented him with a rolled crepe that had strawberries, bananas and whipped cream within, and white chocolate sauce stripes on top. Husk devoured it in no time flat, purring while he did but too distracted by the delectable dessert to really notice. He did see Alastor glancing at him in glee, though, but shrugged it off as not noteworthy.
As soon as he was done, he received a neatly folded crepe that had orange marmalade in the first fold, dark chocolate in the second one, and whipped cream on top. It was simply fucking divine and he considered marrying Alastor on the spot. Thankfully his mouth was too full for him to be able to blurt any such nonsense out loud.
The next one had blueberries, caramel sauce, and vanilla ice cream. Then strawberry jam, whipped cream, and all three chocolates. Bananas, caramel sauce, dark chocolate and whipped cream. Strawberries, blueberries, milk chocolate and vanilla ice cream. Orange marmalade, bananas, whipped cream...
Husk was fucking stuffed. He pushed the plate away and laid his arms and head on the table. "I'm going to explode if I eat any more."
Alastor chuckled. "I have to admit I expected you to call a stop a few crepes ago. You have an admirable endurance, my friend. Well, you can always eat the last one later."
…
"The last one?"
Alastor looked up from his work of closing the jars and putting everything away. "Yes. There's only one left. You ate almost the entire batch."
Husk sat back up and held his plate out. "Give it."
Alastor gave him a doubtful look, and Husk rolled his eyes. "I'll be fucking twice damned if I only leave one. It'll be just depressing to not have more than that later. Besides, I'm not a quitter; you don't win big by quitting."
"I'm uncertain if that logic applies here", Alastor said with an amused grin, and served Husk the last crepe; all three chocolates, bananas, and whipped cream. "But who am I to question your life choices?"
Alastor cleaned up while Husk ate the delicious, but admittedly kind of nauseating crepe. He knew it was a bad idea. Alastor knew it was a bad idea and probably got a kick out of the thought of him suffering later. Hell, the fucking crepe probably knew it was a bad idea. But it was the principle of the thing.
He finished the crepe and regretted all of his life choices, but mostly this one.
Alastor was leaning against the cleaned counter and humming way too cheerfully. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. The asshole was most definitely enjoying this.
"Would you like to cuddle?" Alastor asked, and waltzed over to nuzzle Husk's ear. Husk turned said ear back to avoid it. "You seemed receptive to the idea earlier."
"You just want to watch me suffer, jackass."
"Yes. But it will be beneficial to all parties involved! I get to watch you suffer, I get to cuddle you, and you get to share your pain. My mother told me that shared pain is half the pain, and I would like to get my share!"
Husk gave him an incredulous look. "Do you even fucking listen to yourself?"
"Selectively!" Alastor said with a laugh, and pulled Husk up, making him feel too fucking nauseous to even struggle. He was escorted to his couch and soon found himself laying on his back, with his head on Alastor's lap. Alastor was yammering on and on about whatever crossed his mind, which was a thing he did whenever he was idle, and scratching Husk underneath his chin like he was a common cat.
Husk, on his part, was trying to not groan too often from the increasing stomach pain while also attempting to convince himself that the scratching was more humiliating than it was enjoyable. He was failing at both endeavors.
Well. Stomach pain aside, he would later think back on this day with a great amount of fondness. And he knew better than to scarf down the whole batch of crepes the next time Alastor made them.