Title: Make me Smile, Dusty
The smell of stale cigars and cheap perfume hung heavy in the air of the Hazbin Hotel bar. It was late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—and Husk sat slouched behind the counter, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey while observing his somewhat friend walk his way.
"You're gonna turn into a whiskey bottle if you keep at it, ya know," came the familiar, teasing voice of Angel Dust as he draped himself across the bar. His spider limbs sprawled dramatically, one hand playing with a cocktail umbrella he'd nicked from a drink earlier.
Husk didn't even bother looking up. Instead, his usual smirk shaped his lips. "Better than dealin' with you all day," he muttered, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
"Aww, c'mon, don't be like that, Husky!" Angel purred, resting his chin on his palm and batting his long lashes. "You'd miss me if I wasn't around, wouldn't you?"
The feline demon grumbled something unintelligible, but his tail betrayed him, flicking lazily behind the bar.
Angel smirked. He lived for little cracks in Husk's gruff demeanor, the rare moments where the old cat softened—just a bit. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a mock-whisper. "Y'know, you could at least pretend you like me. I'm the most adorable little guy you've ever met."
"Adorable, my ass," Husk retorted, but there was no real bite in his tone. He sighed and set his glass down, finally looking up at Angel. "What do you want, Dusty?"
Angel straightened, putting on an exaggerated look of mock offense. "Can't a guy just want some quality time with a hot bartender?"
Husk raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay," Angel relented, twirling the cocktail umbrella between his fingers. "I, uh... maybe I was feeling kinda… meh. You're good at makin' people feel better, even if you act like you hate it."
That caught Husk off guard. He blinked at Angel, his usual deadpan expression softening just a fraction. "You? Feeling meh? That's a new one."
Angel rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't reach them. "Yeah, yeah, don't make a big deal outta it." He looked away, his playful demeanor faltering for a split second. "Just… y'know, sometimes it's nice to talk to someone who doesn't wanna get somethin' outta me."
Husk studied him for a moment, the usual sarcasm on the tip of his tongue giving way to something quieter. He reached behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of Angel's favorite liqueur. Without a word, he poured a glass and slid it over.
Angel blinked, then grinned, picking up the glass with a dramatic flourish. "Aw, Husky, you do care!"
"Don't push your luck," Husk muttered, but there was a faint twitch of his lips that might've been a smile.
For a while, they sat in companionable silence. Angel perched on a barstool, occasionally spinning the glass between his hands, and Husk leaned against the counter, his tail flicking in a steady rhythm.
"You're not so bad, y'know," Angel said suddenly, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
Husk looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean it," Angel continued, his pink eyes meeting Husk's golden ones. "You act all grumpy and stuff, but you're solid. Like, you don't flake on people. That's kinda rare down here."
Husk's ears twitched, and for a moment, he didn't know what to say. Compliments weren't something he was used to, and coming from Angel Dust, of all people? It felt weirdly genuine.
"...Thanks," he said finally, the word gruff but sincere.
Angel's grin widened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. "You're welcome, Husky. Now, how 'bout you let me teach you how to make people smile. I'm an expert, y'know?''
Husk groaned, but there was no hiding the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't push your luck, Dusty. I have a job to do here. Just stay still and look pretty, it'll do the job."
Angel just laughed, the sound light and infectious, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Husk found himself chuckling along.