The fight was over.
'Holy fuck, it's really over', Angel Dust thought as he lay sprawled along the plush red couch - the plush red brand new couch that graced the parlor of the brand new Hazbin Hotel constructed less than two hours ago. The original hotel had been one of the casualties of the earlier bloody battle, along with dozens of Charlie's ragtag cannibal army and...
Angel frowned and allowed his gaze to drift over to one of the expansive windows; from his vantage point he could just make out the portrait of Sir Pentious that overlooked the small shrine dedicated to their fallen comrade. Emotions swirled inside his chest, hot and burning like cigarette smoke. He felt sadness for the loss of the man who had so unexpectedly become his friend, angry at the impulsiveness of the self-sacrificing idiot and simultaneously awed by Pentious' overwhelming bravery.
But above all those, Angel felt relief. Because even as he stared into Pentious' unblinking, unseeing eyes, Angel could not help help but be relieved - so damned relieved - that Pentious had been the only one of his friends Angel had lost. "How fucked up am I?" He whispered.
"I'd say pretty fucked up, if you're talking to walls now."
Angel twisted and saw the upside down visage of Husk staring down at him, a bottle of whiskey in each hand. Straight to the hard stuff tonight - not that Angel was going to judge.
"That was a rhetorical question." He said as he smiled and righted himself, pushing up into a seated position. Husk looked exhausted and even with his dark fur Angel could see dried patches of blood coloring his body. His friend was hurt and tired - but he was still here, and Angel felt dizzy from the relief of that simple, comforting fact. "Is it just us two left?"
Husk gave a noncommittal shrug. "Charlie and Vaggie went up a while ago. I don't know where Niffty's at, but then again I rarely know where her crazy ass is."
"Knowin' Niffty she probably found a way to crawl into the walls and is lookin' for bugs to kill."
"Thanks, I definitely won't think about that when I'm trying to sleep tonight. Where's your Cherri pal?"
Angel pointed to the floor above them. "Already picked a bed and crashed out like she pays rent here."
"She staying for good, or...?"
"I... I hope so, but I ain't gonna push her. If she wants to take things a day at a time, that's fine by me."
"I think 'a day at a time' is gonna be our motto 'round here while Charlie figures out her next move." Husk said dryly, though not unkindly.
Angel silently agreed. Today had been a massive victory for Charlie, but that victory had come with an equally massive price and even though the dust had settled and the survivors were left to lick their wounds Angel could not help but wonder - what really had they accomplished? Were the exterminations finished for good, or would the angels just come back with more numbers and even more determination than ever? Was Charlie's plan for redeeming sinners even possible now that they had royally pissed off a whole heap of heavenly bitches? And then of course there was the problem of convincing sinners to even join the hotel, which had been hard enough before they had lost one of their own to that nights' slaughter.
Angel Dust sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to think about the future. The future was full of uncertainty and, honestly, pretty fucking scary all things considered. Better to focus on what was in front of him, right here, right now; and right here, right now, was Husk. He motioned to the bottles in Husk's hands and asked, "So, who's dick do I gotta suck to get one of those?"
"Here, free of charge." Husk said, his deadpane tone betrayed by the small smirk that crossed his lips.
"Booo, you're no fun." Angel bemoaned as he reached for the bottle. He was pleased that Husk was finally warming up to Angel's teasing - maybe soon he would be comfortable enough to initiate teases of his own, though that was probably wishful thinking on Angel's part. As Husk leaned forward to pass his gift, Angel saw a grimace of pain briefly contort the man's face. "Hey, what was that? What's wrong?"
"Nothin's wrong."
"Don't give me that, Whiskers. Your face looked like someone just stuck one of those bottles where the sun don't shine."
"Don't fuckin' call me 'whiskers'." Husk growled, his smile slipping away. 'Okay with the teasing, not okay with the nickname - yet.' Angel noted. "And I'm fine. It's just these damn wings. There's a reason I never use them - they do a fucking number on my back and trying to keep up with those angelic assholes today didn't help." As though to emphasize his point, Husk rolled his shoulders and a fresh wave of discomfort hardened the lines of his face.
Angel straightened and took a swig of his bottle. The whiskey seared his throat and left pleasantly painful tingles in its wake. "Well, well - sounds like you're in need of a massage, and it just so happens I give the best -"
"No."
"You could at least let me finish talkin', ya rude fuck. And I ain't playin' around, I really am the best at massages."
Husk's long eyebrows rose incredulously. "How? You been takin' massage classes in between your busy porn schedule and lines of coke?"
"Who needs classes when you've got hands on experience, baby? You know how many pornos I've shot where I've had to pretend to be a professional massager?"
"Masseurs." Husk corrected, the roll of his tongue sending shivers down Angel's spine.
"Whatever. Point is, I've had a shit ton of practice. Plus -" He raised his hands and wagged his fingers teasingly. "Four hands are always better than two."
"Thanks, but I'll pass." The man replied and took a pull from his own bottle.
"You'd really rather limp around like a crippled old man?"
"Fuck you, it ain't that bad!"
"Oh yeah? Then do this." Angel challenged, lifting his arms above his head and waving them back and forth.
Husk grumbled something under his breath and took another long drink, but as he raised the bottle to his lips Angel saw his hand shake in a small spasm. He knew that type of lightning fast pain; he had felt it himself after shoots where Valentino insisted on keeping him tied up in ridiculous positions for hours on end. A body's muscles could only take so much abuse. Angel leaned forward and rested his crossed arms on the side of the couch. "I ain't trying to be a creep; I'm offerin' as a friend. I promise I won't turn into my usual horny self and I'll keep all hands above the belt. Cross my heart and hope to double die."
The man's yellow eyes rolled. For a long moment Husk stood silently and Angel was starting to wonder if he was straight up being ignored when he finally said, "Fuck it, why not? Let's do it."
"Really? I mean - yeah - okay!" Angel sprang up and gestured to the couch invitingly. Husk's expression was unreadable as he sprawled out on his stomach, the troublesome wings tucked neatly behind his back. "I'm trustin' you to stick to your word." He grumbled into the leather.
Angel's heart was pounding so furiously he could feel the vibrations all the way down to his feet. He took another long draw from his whiskey and said, "Don't worry about a thing, honey. Angel's gonna take good care of you."
"See, it's shit like that -" Husk started, but before he could finish Angel swung his leg over the man's prone body, straddling his hips. Quickly, before Husk could protest, Angel leaned forward and began kneading his back in slow, deep motions. He felt Husk tense underneath his palms but his friend said nothing and, thankfully, didn't try to buck Angel off. "You just tell me if it hurts, alright?"
Husk huffed in what Angel took as a sign of agreement. He moved his hands down to Husk's waistband, as low as he dared go without breaking his promise, and started rubbing in small circles. He worked slowly, patiently; desperately fighting off the wicked thoughts that were slithering into his mind. So many times he had filmed this exact scenario in Valentino's pornos and the impulsive desire to play the scene out, not with some random, nameless actor in a crowded studio, but here, in the place he felt safest with a man he actually cared for, was overwhelming.
Trying to focus on anything except how intoxicated he felt by the friction of Husk's body pressed against his own, Angel moved his hands inch by inch up Husk's back. Now and then his fingers would catch on a small mat of blood and he would pause to gently work the tangle out of Husk's fur before continuing. All the while he watched the profile of Husk's face, hungry for his approval, and his reward finally came when he saw the smallest of sighs escape from the man's lips. "Damn, you actually are good at this."
"Sex, killin', and massages. I'm a triple threat." Angel smiled and moved his hands to focus on the spots where Husk's wings met his upper back. Husk grimaced and Angel felt a new spasm roll against his hands. "This where it hurts most?"
"Yeah."
Angel silently debated with himself for a moment before easing up slightly on his pressure and hoping that was the right thing to do. Despite his grandstanding, he really had no fucking idea what he has doing and too late it occurred to him that he might actually be causing Husk's muscles more harm than good. 'Shit, what if I fuck him up even worse?' Angel tried to push this discomforting thought from his mind as he continued to work around Husk's wings. Husk's entire back was strained, and yet as Angel moved one of his hands across Husk's right shoulder, he felt a hard bump that even his untrained hands recognized as a knot buried deep within the man's muscles. "Right there!" Husk gasped.
"Don't worry, I feel it." Angel consoled him, and slowly started to work at the knot. His fingertips gently massaged the spot: pulling, pushing, circling, as his other three hands kept the rest of Husk's back occupied. Husk's eyes had drifted closed and every so often his chest would rise and fall with a soft groan of contentment; it was astonishing how such a simple response filled Angel with so much pleasure.
Suddenly, Angel felt movement beneath him. Husk had not moved an inch, and yet his body rumbled with deep, rolling waves that swept over Angel with the force of an oceans' tide. And then the realization hit him - Husk was purring.
'Don't turn horny, don't turn horny, don't turn horny', Angel thought desperately even as he bit down on his lip to muffle the moan that threatened to escape him. Husk's gentle tremors tickled the inside of Angel's thighs and his groin began to ache with desire. It would be so easy to flip Husk onto his back, to grind himself against the man's vibrating body; he might even have time before Husk reacted to lock their lips together and taste the inside of his whiskey scented mouth.
But Angel, despite every cell in his body screaming for him to act, didn't move. He had seen Husk emotionally vulnerable that night he had pulled Angel out of the club, and now the man had gone a step further and allowed himself to be physically vulnerable, trapped between the couch and Angel's body. Husk had lowered his boundaries and, most importantly, he had extended Angel his trust - was he really going to throw that trust in the garbage just for a few sloppy seconds of pleasure?
'Yes! I mean, no! I - Oh, fuck everythin'!'' He needed to get out of there soon, before his resolve broke and he ruined everything. "S-so, what do you think? Pretty good, right?" Angel asked breathlessly.
He heard Husk chuckle; his voice as low as rumbling thunder. His eyes opened lazily and there was a unmistakeable mischievousness glimmer in his gaze as he answered, "Baby, I think you're in the wrong line of work."
Angel shuddered and felt another chunk of his already demolished self control fall away. With a Herculean effort, heart hammering, groin throbbing, Angel pushed himself to his feet and took a few wobbly steps away from the couch. "Alright! Well, I'm glad I - oh fuck!" He spat as his foot knocked over his forgotten whiskey bottle, flooding the floorboards with the golden liquid. "Fuck! You know what, leave that there, I'll take care of it in the mornin'. Um... Goodnight!"
And with that, fully aware of Husk's bewildered gaze boring into him, Angel unceremoniously turned and half walked, half ran up the stairs and down the hall to his new room. He collapsed onto his mattress and immediately lunged for his nightstand drawer. "You gotta get in your bed tonight, Fat Nuggets," he panted to the snoring bundle at the end of his mattress.
On command Fat Nuggets emerged from his cavern of blankets. His flat nose sniffled with indignation at the sudden banishment, but the creature obediently jumped down to his smaller bed nearby Angel's own and settled back to sleep.
"Thanks buddy." Angel whispered. His hand dove into the drawer, reaching for his favorite vibrator, but his fingers encountered nothing but empty space. "The fuck? Where - !"
Clarity struck him like a brick to the head. His old vibrator had been in his old nightstand inside the old hotel, which, thanks to Adam, was now nothing more than a memory. "SHIT! " Angel howled, furiously throwing himself back onto the mattress.
His little tantrum did nothing to placate the pulsing heat that was threatening to consume the entire lower half of his body. Truly desperate, Angel brought two of his fingers to his lips and slipped the digits inside his mouth. His tongue worked feverishly to coat his fingers with as much saliva as he could muster. He couldn't even remember the last time he had resorted to using his own fingers on himself; being a porn star did have some perks, and an abundant access to sex toys was one of them. When Angel was satisfied with his work, he withdrew his fingers, took a long, shaky breath, and closed his eyes.
In his mind, their roles were reversed: Husk was the one looming above Angel, his legs straddling Angel's hips, that crooked, sexy smile beaming down at him. "Fuck it," his deep voice drawled. "Why not? Let's do it."
Angel groaned, "Fuck yes." Eyes still closed, he pulled up the hem of his skin-tight mini skirt and moved his wet fingers up between his legs. He pictured Husk lowering himself onto Angel, his yellow eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky. Angel caught the scent of sweat and whiskey on the air as the man lifted his hips and slid inside of him. His body sang with joy as the delicious pressure filled him and Angel instinctively arched his back, trying to drive the force even deeper. "Give it to me, Husk!" He begged.
Husk obeyed, and pulled all the way out before filling Angel again with one hard thrust. A strangled moan escaped Angel's throat as Husk drove into him again and again, driving the spider into a frenzy. "Right there!" Husk groaned. "Right there!"
"Husk!" Angel whimpered a moment before his orgasm struck. Every muscle in his body seized, paralyzing and burning him from the inside out, before suddenly releasing like a long held breath. His mind tried desperately to cling to Husk's visage, but his friend had disappeared as quickly as smoke in the wind. The illusion was shattered and Angel was left lying against his pillows, panting, his slick fingers still lodged inside of him.
"Fuck," he muttered into the quiet darkness. He pulled his fingers free, pushed himself up from the bed, and stumbled into the bathroom. He stayed under the shower just long enough to convince himself he was probably clean before returning to bed and crawling under the covers. He would hate himself in the morning for going to bed sopping wet, but that was just another problem for tomorrow.
Right here, right now, Angel just wanted to close his eyes, fall asleep, and hope that in his dreams a certain winged, yellow-eyed figure would be waiting for him.