The night after the chaotic battle, the sky was clear, and a beautiful full moon bathed The Cat's Den in a serene, silver light. The casino's neon lights glowed warmly against the night, a stark contrast to the fierce battle that had taken place earlier. Angel Dust made his way to Husker's penthouse, his steps purposeful and filled with determination.
Husker greeted him at the door, his usual stern expression softening slightly. "Come on in, Angel," he said, stepping aside to let the spider demon enter.
As he steps into the penthouse, his breath catches in his throat at the sheer grandeur of the space before him. His eyes are immediately drawn to the plush red carpet underfoot, its velvety softness calling him to kick off his shoes and sink into its depths. The contrast with the sleek black leather furniture is stark, yet somehow perfectly harmonious, creating an atmosphere that is both inviting and commanding.
The glints of gold accents scattered throughout the room catch his eye, they're subtle but impossible to ignore, adding a touch of opulence to the already extravagant surroundings. As he wanders further into the penthouse, he finds himself mesmerized by the tasteful art pieces that adorn the walls.
Outside, the full moon casts its ethereal glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a soft, silver light. It's a sight that takes his breath away. And then there's the bar—a sight that sets his heart racing with anticipation. The array of top-shelf liquors glints invitingly under the soft lighting.
Angel whistled appreciatively as he took in the luxurious surroundings. "Wow, Husker, you really went all out with the red, black, and gold, huh? It's like you've got a secret love affair with a roulette wheel. What's next, gold-plated toilet paper?"
Husker smirked, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "Gotta keep the brand consistent, Legs. Besides, it suits the place."
Angel chuckled, his mood lightening. "Yeah, it does. It's like stepping into a classy sin den. You've got style, I'll give you that."
Husker led Angel to a comfortable seat near the large floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of Pentagram City. The city's chaotic beauty sprawled beneath them, the lights flickering like stars in the darkness. Husker motioned for them to sit and stood up to move to his private bar. Angel couldn't help but watch, his eyes tracing every step Husker took. There was something undeniably captivating about the way Husker moved, a blend of confidence and grace that made it impossible for Angel to look away. Husker's movements were smooth and practiced as he prepared to craft two perfect cosmopolitans.
First, he reached for the martini glasses, placing them carefully on the bar. He added ice to a cocktail shaker, ensuring it was well-chilled. As the shaker frosted over, he pulled out a sleek bottle of vodka and a bottle of triple sec. Husker measured out two ounces of vodka for each cosmopolitan, the liquid pouring smoothly into the shaker. Next, he added one ounce of triple sec per glass, followed by a splash of cranberry juice for that signature blush pink color. Angel could hardly breathe, mesmerized by Husker's focus and the fluidity of his movements.
With a flourish, Husker squeezed fresh lime juice into the shaker, the citrus scent mingling with the other ingredients. He then secured the shaker's lid and began to shake it with a gentle, rhythmic motion, his wrist moving in perfect circles. The ice clinked softly against the metal, cooling the mix to the ideal temperature. Angel rubbed his legs together, feeling the heat in his core grow. Husker was just so sexy!
Satisfied with his work, Husker strained the cosmopolitans into the now-chilled martini glasses, the vibrant pink liquid settling smoothly. Finally, he reached for a few thin strips of lime peel, twisting them over each drink to release their fragrant oils before placing them delicately on the rim of each glass. Husker set the cosmopolitans before Angel, and then took a seat on a leather armchair beside the spider.
Angel took a sip, savoring the taste, before launching into the conversation. "I've been thinking a lot, Husker," he began, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Once we deal with Valentino, I want to start working. I need to get back to work, to feel like myself again."
Husker studied Angel for a moment, his eyes piercing yet understanding. "You think you're ready for that? It's not going to be easy."
Angel nodded, a determined look on his face. "Half a year's been more than enough to get my head straight. Besides, I'm going nuts not working. And I can't keep taking advantage of your... kindness." He chuckled, a hint of irony in his voice. "Can't believe I'm using that word in Hell."
Husker's lips twitched into a rare smile. "Kindness, huh? Well, Arackniss has been busting his ass to make sure you'd be ready for this. He's taken on some big jobs to cover your treatment and stay here."
Angel's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. "Arackniss did that? For me?"
Husker nodded, his tone matter of fact. "Nothing in The Cat's Den comes for free, Angel. Everyone works for what they get here. Arackniss knew that and stepped up."
Angel looked around the lavish penthouse, feeling the weight of his emotions. The plush red carpet under his feet, the gleaming black leather of the sofas, and the golden accents that glinted in the moonlight all seemed to whisper luxury and power, but also of the hard work and loyalty that built it. "I... I owe him a lot. And you too, Husk. I was just another lost soul when I got here, but you gave me a chance."
Husker leaned back in his chair, his expression softening further. "You've got talent, Angel. Always did. You just needed a place to use it where you weren't being exploited."
Angel took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief and purpose. "I won't let you down. I'll work hard, make sure I earn my keep."
Husker's smile widened slightly, a rare sight. "I know you will. You've got fire in you, Legs. Just remember, this place, it's not about being nice. It's about respect. Earn it, and you'll go far."
Angel nodded, a newfound determination in his eyes. "I will. Thanks, Husker. For everything."
Husker raised his glass in a silent toast, and Angel did the same. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Angel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Angel glanced around Husker's luxurious penthouse, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on him. He took a deep breath and turned to Husker, trying to find the right words.
"I've been wondering about something," Angel started, his voice wavering slightly. "You never came to visit me in the hospital. Why?"
Husker, lounging comfortably in his black armchair, gave a nonchalant shrug. He looked at Angel with a steady, unflinching gaze. "Didn't feel right, Angel," he replied, his tone matter of fact. "Felt like it would be manipulating you while you were vulnerable. If you really wanted me, I knew you'd come to me when you were ready."
Angel's breath caught in his throat as Husker extended his hand toward him, his eyes glowing an intense gold, pupils dilated with a mix of emotions Angel couldn't quite decipher. "Does you coming here tonight mean you're ready?" Husker asked, his voice soft yet commanding.
For a moment, Angel felt paralyzed, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked at Husker, taking in his bare chest, the loose satin pants that clung to his muscular frame, and those piercing golden eyes that seemed to burn with a fire deep within. The room around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in a bubble of tension and unspoken desire.
Angel swallowed hard, then slowly reached out and took Husker's hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip. As soon as their hands touched, Husker pulled Angel onto his lap with a swift, confident motion. Angel let out a startled laugh, his heart racing as he found himself straddling the cat overlord.
Husker's purring vibrated through Angel, a soft, soothing rumble that seemed to melt away his anxieties. Angel cupped Husker's face in his hands, feeling the soft fur under his fingers. He marveled at the contrast between Husker's fearsome appearance and the gentle, almost tender way he was holding him.
"You're really just a big cat, aren't you?" Angel murmured, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
Husker's purring grew louder, and he nuzzled into Angel's touch, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. "Guess you could say that," he replied, his voice a low, affectionate rumble.
Angel felt a warmth spreading through him, a mix of relief, excitement, and a deep, burgeoning affection for the demon who had saved him in more ways than one. He leaned in closer, their foreheads touching, and closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
"I think I'm ready, Husker," Angel whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Ready to be with you, ready to start fresh."
Husker's arms wrapped around Angel, holding him close. "Good," he murmured, his breath warm against Angel's skin. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
Angel's heart swelled with happiness as he pressed his lips to Husker's, the kiss tender and filled with promise. As they pulled apart, Angel looked into Husker's eyes, seeing the same determination and affection mirrored back at him.
The petting and purring gradually evolved into a slow, sensual make-out session, rich with passion and tenderness. Every kiss Husker planted on Angel was deliberate, full of an unspoken reverence that made Angel feel cherished in a way he hadn't in a long time. Husker's rough cat tongue added a unique texture to each kiss, eliciting giggles from Angel that bubbled up from a place deep within him—a part of him that hadn't felt joy in the simple act of kissing in what felt like an eternity.
Angel couldn't remember the last time he had kissed someone just for the joy of it, without it being a precursor to something more physical. He couldn't recall the last time he had laughed during an intimate moment, feeling light and unburdened, without the weight of expectations or the shadows of his past looming over him. Every touch, every caress from Husker was gentle and reassuring, and it made Angel feel like he was rediscovering a lost part of himself.
As their lips parted, Angel found himself gazing into Husker's golden eyes, now soft and filled with a warmth that made his heart flutter. Husker's next words were unexpected, but they held a sincerity that melted Angel's heart even further.
"We're not having sex tonight, Angel," Husker said softly, his voice a soothing rumble. "I want to take you on a date first. Tonight, I just want you to stay, to simply sleep."
Angel felt a giggle escape his lips, the idea both absurd and endearing. Here he was, in the lap of luxury, with one of Hell's most formidable overlords, and he was being treated like something precious, something to be cherished. As Husker scooped him up and carried him to the bed, Angel marveled at the unexpected tenderness in the demon's actions. He was placed gently onto the fluffiest, most comfortable bed he had ever been on, and he couldn't help but laugh, feeling a lightness in his chest that was new and exhilarating.
As they settled into the bed, they continued to caress each other, their touches non-sexual but deeply intimate. Every stroke of Husker's fingers against his skin was a promise of safety and affection. They kissed slowly, their tongues dancing together in a rhythm that spoke of mutual discovery and trust.
Lying there, wrapped in each other's arms, Angel felt a profound sense of peace. The worries and traumas of his past seemed distant, insignificant in the face of the connection he was building with Husker. They talked in hushed tones, sharing stories and dreams, each word drawing them closer together.
As the night wore on, their conversation gave way to a comfortable silence. They continued to kiss and touch, but it was less about arousal and more about comfort, about being present in the moment with someone who genuinely cared. Angel's eyelids grew heavy, and he found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling safe and protected in Husker's embrace. Husker's steady purring was the last thing Angel heard as he slipped into a peaceful slumber, his head resting against Husker's chest.
Meanwhile, in the quiet of Blitzo and Loona's cabin, the night wrapped around Via and Loona like a comforting blanket. The events of the day had been exhausting, emotionally draining, and now, they slept soundly, their dreams free from the chaos of Hell's realm.
In the adjacent bedroom, however, a different scene unfolded. Stolas hovered over Blitzo, his worry etched into every line of his face. He fussed over Blitzo, adjusting the duvets and pillows with a tenderness that spoke volumes. But Blitzo, despite his injuries and weariness, couldn't help but notice the absurdity of the situation. Half of the blankets seemed to have materialized out of thin air, summoned by Stolas's anxious magic.
"Stolas, calm down," Blitzo finally said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're making me feel like I'm about to die or something."
Stolas froze, his eyes wide with surprise, before he began to fidget nervously. The tension in the room was palpable as Blitzo waited for Stolas to speak.
Eventually, Stolas's words spilled out in a rush, his voice trembling with emotion. "I… I was scared, Blitzy," he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "When Overlord Husker called and said you were hurt, I… I didn't know what to do. The thought of losing you…" His voice trailed off, unable to voice the depth of his fear.
Blitzo's heart clenched at Stolas's words, a rush of unexpected warmth flooding through him. He reached out, gently lifting Stolas's chin so their eyes met. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness. "I'm right here, Stolas. I'm not going anywhere."
Stolas's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at Blitzo, his emotions laid bare. "I love you, Blitzo," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the quiet of the room.
Blitzo's breath caught in his throat at the confession, his heart pounding in his chest. He never imagined that a prince like Stolas could feel that way about him, a lowly imp from the depths of Hell. But at that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the love that bloomed between them, unexpected and powerful.
"I love you too, Stolas," Blitzo replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "More than anything." But Blitzo hesitated, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his features. "Stolas, I… I do love you and I want to date you. But I also want to keep this between us, for now," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension. "I don't think I'm ready to deal with the backlash of being an imp dating royalty."
Stolas's disappointment was palpable, he had wanted to tell everyone that this wonderful imp was his boyfriend now. But he also understood the weight of being royalty and the suffering of those who socialize with them. "Of course, Blitzy," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "We'll keep it our little secret, for now."
With the weight of their confession lifted, they found themselves drawn to each other. They began to kiss, slowly and sensually, each kiss a promise of their commitment to one another. Blitzo felt a warmth spread through him, Stolas's kisses were filled with a gentle passion, his touches reassuring and loving. They lay down on the bed, still kissing, their hands exploring each other's bodies with a tenderness that spoke of their mutual respect and affection. It wasn't rushed or urgent; it was a slow dance of intimacy that neither of them wanted to end.
As they continued to kiss and caress, the outside world faded away. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in their shared love. Blitzo's initial nervousness melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. Stolas, too, felt a profound peace, his earlier disappointment overshadowed by the joy of being close to the one he loved.
Eventually, their kisses grew slower, their touches more languid. They settled into a comfortable embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Blitzo nestled his head against Stolas's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a sound that brought him immense comfort.
Stolas, his arms wrapped protectively around Blitzo, felt a surge of affection wash over him. "Goodnight, Blitzy," he whispered, his voice filled with love.
"Goodnight, Stolas," Blitzo murmured in reply, a soft smile on his lips.
As they drifted off to sleep, their breaths synchronized, the worries of their world seemed a little less daunting. They had each other, and for now, that was enough. In the quiet of the night, under the watchful gaze of the full moon, Blitzo and Stolas found peace in their newfound love, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.
The next day dawned with a weighty sense of purpose hanging in the air, each breath tinged with anticipation and determination. As they gathered for the meeting with Husker to discuss their counterattack against Valentino, the atmosphere crackled with urgency.
"We cannot allow Valentino to survive this transgression," Husker rumbled, eyes glowing gold in his anger. "He crossed a line I will not leave unanswered. Luckily, we have time to plan, as the Extermination Day Meeting hosted by Carmilla Carmine is approaching most overlords will be focusing on that. We will time our counterattack for after then."
"Why don't we launch the attack during the meeting," Blitzo proposed, his eyes gleamed with excitement as he suggested catching Valentino off guard. "Think about it, boss," Blitzo urged, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "It's the perfect opportunity! We can hit Valentino when he least expects it, while all the other overlords are busy with their little meeting."
But Husker's reaction was swift and decisive, his demeanor shifting to one of stern disapproval. "Blitzo, that's not how we do things here," With a low growl rumbling in his chest, he rebuked Blitzo's suggestion, his eyes flashing with authority. "These meetings are held as a tentative alliance between the overlords to create a sort of order over Pentagram City. If one of us use this cease fire for underhanded tactics, the city will be ruled by chaos. Not to mention, I will be banned from ever participating in one of them again, and my political influence will take a nosedive!"
Husker's words echoed with finality. "Also," Husker continued, his voice carrying a note of practicality, "the Vees always send Vox to deal with the meeting. Valentino and Velvette would be at V Tower. It wouldn't work."
Blitzo's initial enthusiasm wilted in the face of Husker's reasoning, his shoulders slumping with resignation. He had hoped for a quick and decisive strike, but now he saw the flaws in his plan. "We'll need to come up with another strategy," Blitzo admitted, his voice tinged with disappointment. "But we'll figure something out, right?"
Husker's expression softened, a glimmer of approval shining in his eyes. "Of course, Blitzo," he reassured, his voice steady. "We'll find a way. We always do."