The Best Thing (Hazbin Hotel-Huskerdust)

[coolbeans18]

This fic is technically a sequel to my previous fic, A Little Less Terrible, but can be read as a stand alone.  Various one shots of Husk and Angel now that they've started dating. Lots of sneezing and caretaking and fluff! Enjoy! 

Chapter 1 - Second Date!

 

Angel was sprinting down the street. 

It was as undignified as it sounded, especially in his heels; Angel didn’t like to run anywhere if he could help it. He’d never needed to before, what with his metabolism being almost too good, and he looked stupid doing it, all lanky limbs that sort of became a tangled mess whenever he tried. Plenty of physical activity came so naturally to him; dancing, acrobatics, stripping, fucking. Have him do any of those and he was a fucking goddess. 

But for some reason, when running, he suddenly lost all coordination and turned into a clumsy, dorky mess. As he hurried down the street he naturally got several annoying whistles and perverted comments thrown his way. He didn’t much care, he just didn’t want to be late for his second date with Husk.

Angel had been nervous enough about today, and Val deciding to keep him at the studio 2 fucking hours late wasn’t helping. He’d been forced to message Husk a long, desperate apology, and ask if he’d meet him at the restaurant instead of walking over together. 

Husk hadn’t seemed bothered, well versed in overlords and their habits of fucking shit up, but that didn’t mean Angel wasn’t anxious. Their first date had been so perfect, of course it had, Husk had planned it. It had only been a week since then but right away Angel had realized that Husk was sooo much better at this romantic shit than he was. 

It almost wasn’t fair, how intuitive and considerate Husk was, always coming up with new ways to make Angel’s heart skip a beat. Recreating brunch at one of their favorite restaurants but IN the hotel, knowing Angel wouldn't have wanted to deal with onlookers while he’d been injured? Making the same drinks they’d always ordered, re-animating a wonderful part of their friendship, gay brunch at Glenns, but now with a new romantic twist? Fucking brilliant. They hadn’t been on a second date yet, but throughout the week Husk had managed to drop casual, adorable little romantic gestures, like making Angel a paper rose out of a bar napkin, or leaving Angel with one of his sweaters on the nights he had to work late and couldn’t fall asleep with him. It was as wonderful as it was infuriating…How was Angel supposed to compete with that? 

He’d spent days agonizing over where to take Husk. Husk had revealed that he’d never been asked out before; he’d always been the person to take the lead, and Angel needed Husk’s first time being taken on a date to be perfect. 

Husk’s only request had been “Nowhere too fancy, I don’ own any nice clothes.” Angel had scoffed at this, threatening to take Husk shopping as their second date, and laughing when this made the other man look like he might vomit. His request however turned out to be super unhelpful in narrowing down Angel’s list of ideas, given that they were in Hell, and very few places were fancy anyway.  

He’d consulted with Charlie, then Cherri, then Vaggie, then Nifty; hell, he’d even asked Alastor if he knew what restaurants Husk had frequented in his days as an overlord (the radio demon was notoriously unhelpful). After several rounds of development with the team, a week of some slutty networking and two paychecks, Angel had scored the big ticket item; two tickets to see John Coltrane, Husk’s favorite saxophone player. Coltrane wasn’t doing concerts anymore, but he’d heard from a work friend who heard from a client who heard from his boss that Coltrane still performed at a few clubs across the rings. Angel had seduced said boss after his last performance at Val’s club, and after several rounds of flirting had managed to get the name Zarra’s out of him; a small, hole-in-the-wall jazz club in Pride. Definitely not where Angel expected one of the greatest sax players of all time to frequent, but he supposed it made sense if you were technically retired and just looking for some fun. He suspected the majority of club goers didn’t have a fucking clue that is was John Coltrane up there (how’d he end up down here anyway? Played music too beautifully?) but Husk would. 

The guy Angel was flirting with had also let slip that while the club was casual, it was also tiny, so the line to get in could be long. He’d found out from the club’s website that VIP tickets were available, though they were drastically out of his price range. Fortunately for him, one of Vox’s assistants knew a waiter at Zarra’s, and with some cash bribing, said waiter gave Angel the club manager’s name and number. One of Val’s PA’s helped Angel get access to the managers internet history; Val and Vox’s server could access nearly any user's data in Pride, if you knew how to navigate it, and Angel simply told the PA Val had requested the search history be pulled  because the guy was a new client. It wasn’t uncommon to do a little research and figure out what someone liked before a session, especially if they were a big deal.  After learning that this guy pretty much only watched catholic school girl porn (vanilla), Angel had called and offered him a free session with the one and only Angel Dust who would be wearing a skimpy school uniform and wielding a yard stick. All he wanted in return was guaranteed entrance to Zarra's. 

Fast forward through some light choking with a crucifix and one of the fastest orgasms Angel had ever witnessed, and he had the tickets. The only flaw in his plan was that Coltrane only performed on Tuesday’s…and Angel only had Sunday’s off. Hence why he was now running down the street after back to back shoots that were supposed to have ended at 4. It was 7:23 now, and Angel was supposed to meet Husk at 7:30. He only had 4 more blocks to go, but he was cutting it close. It would all be worth it though, to see Husk’s expression when he saw his idol onstage. It had been torture, keeping this a secret the past few days. He’d told Vaggie and Cherri, because he had to tell someone, but refused to allow himself to spill the beans to Charlie or Nifty, knowing neither could keep a secret to save their goddamn lives. Angel himself was usually the same, but for Husk’s sake he’d been determined to hold out. 

At 7:31, Angel rounded the corner and could see the club across the street. Casually leaning against a lamppost by the entrance, scrolling on his phone, was Husk. As if he could sense Angel’s presence, his eyes flicked upward and spotted Angel across the street. At the sight of the other man, his face broke into that sly, endearing smile that Angel loved so much. Angel gave a little wave, bouncing on his toes with anticipation. Fuck his boyfriend was hot. 

He crossed without waiting for the light, which resulted in him nearly getting hit by a trashy red convertible whose headlight he kicked in while exchanging various curse words with the driver. Husk watched the exchange with fond amusement, chuckling as Angel finally made his way over, slightly out of breath.

“Sorry m’ late and…kind of a mess,” he manages to get out, wincing at his own disheveled appearance. “I sorta…ran here. Didn’t wanna make you wait up.” 

Husk just smiles, and takes his hand, planting a gentle kiss on his knuckle. The little gesture makes Angel swoon a bit.

“Don’ worry about it,” the other man rumbles in that low baritone that Angel misses oh so much every time they’re apart. “I know you ain’t got much control over what time ya’ leave. We coulda’ done this on a Sunday you know, I don’ wanna stress ya’ out.”

Angel shakes his head, smiling. “Nooo, it has ta’ be today,” he says, grinning like an idiot. As nervous as he is, he can’t wait to see Husk’s face when you-know-who starts playing. “You’ll see why. C’mon, let’s go.” 

He takes Husk’s hand and steers him towards the front of the line, Husk raising his eyebrows but not questioning it. Angel flashes their VIP tickets to the bouncer who immediately steps aside to let them pass, and Angel makes a big show of holding the door open for Husk, who flushes bright red and gives a mumbled “thank you.” Angel grins. This was Husk’s first time being taken out, and he was going to pull out all the stops. 

The atmosphere inside the club is just what Angel had in mind. It’s low lit, with tiny candles on some of the tables and a few shabby bar lights, instantly making one feel cozy. The faint smell of cigars and bourbon lingers in the air, and low chatter fills the space. The stage is all set up, but the live music hasn’t started yet; Angel wanted to get here early and get their food and drinks ordered before the performance started; he had a feeling Husk wouldn’t be able to focus on much once his idol was on stage. 

It’s free seating, (another reason to arrive early) and Husk glances up at Angel with a smile as they make their way to an open table. 

“Now this is my kinda joint,” he says, looking around at the warm atmosphere, the patrons playing card games, the various framed jazz albums on the walls. 

“I hoped so,” Angel says, laughing a bit nervously. “I was surprised ya’ hadn’t been here before.”

Husk shakes his head. “I’ve been to a few jazz clubs when I was…before Alastor,” he says. Angel has noticed that Husk distinctly avoids using the word overlord to describe his past self whenever he can help it. Maybe he was ashamed, or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of having ever been lumped in with the likes of Valentino. 

“But, they were bigger, fancier places,” he continues. “This kinda place…s’ much more my speed.” He shoots Angel a warm smile as they sit down. “Thanks, for finding it. S’ real nice.” 

Angel lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Apparently he’s done a good job so far. 

“I think we order at the bar,” he says, fidgeting with his gloves to calm his nerves. “What can I get ya’ handsome?”

Husk blushes at that, still not used to Angel saying things like that sincerely . 

“I—uh. Whisky? Neat? An’ whatever looks good on the menu. I trust ya’.”

“Fish?” Angel snickers, and Husk shoots him a glare, his face burning. 

“Alright, alright,” Angel relents, still giggling. “Be right back.”He orders Husk’s whisky and a glass of red wine for himself. Red wine and jazz were a match made in heaven. He ends up getting a smattering of appetizers, being his typical indecisive self and wanting to try a few things. 

When he returns, the crowd has thickened a bit, and the band had begun setting up onstage. 

Husk is lounging in his chair, looking relaxed, his legs crossed and his head tilted in that utterly adorable way that Angel loves. 

He smiles at Angel’s return, reaching out a hand across the table, inviting Angel to take it. He does. 

“How was work?” Husk asks, and Angel immediately wrinkles his nose. 

“New topic,” he requests, and Husk chuckles, shaking his head a little. 

“Yeah you’re right, sorry. Guess I’m still…kinda nervous about…” he gestures around them, averting his eyes shyly. “This whole dynamic. Can't think of what ta’ ask ya’ about.”

Angel smiles. 

“I know what you mean. Talkin’ t’ you is normally so easy but when we’re …on a date, s’ like there’s pressure all the sudden. I get worried m’ not bein’ interesting enough for ya’.”

Husk laughs at that, giving his hand a little squeeze, and turning to face him. 

“Yer” always interesting Leg’s, that much s’ for sure.”

Angel frowns a little. 

“Somehow, I don’t think you mean that as a compliment,” he replies, wrinkling his nose. Husk laughs. 

“What, just cuz we’re together now doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop busting on ya’. You’re many things kid but boring will never be one of them.” 

Angel rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. It’s going well, he says to himself, taking a breath.

But of course, he spoke too soon. The waitress brings them their drinks, and Angel is suddenly met with a strong whiff of her perfume. 

It’s lavender. Fuck. 

Angel can immediately tell, given the way his whole body recoils at the scent. He manages to contain the feeling to just a small jerk of surprise, and Husk thankfully doesn’t seem to notice. 

The waitress leaves just as quickly as she arrives, but just that brief exposure leaves Angel’s nose and eyes prickling. He gives a small, delicate sniffle, and blinks several times. No , he tells his body firmly, absolutely not. You’re not ruining this.  

Angel worked in the porn industry, he’d been around perfume before. But there were certain kinds that were now banned at the studio because of his…adverse reactions to them. Fuck, he remembered all too well the first time Val had bought him new perfume. It was before he’d owned Angel’s soul, back when they were still an item, and Angel was still coming to terms with all his new body's eccentricities.

Val had gifted him the stuff as an anniversary present, and Angel, thinking nothing of it, had immediately sprayed some on his wrist. Which is when he discovered two things: one, his sense of smell (and taste) was no longer limited to just his nose. He could smell something with basically his entire body…it was hard to describe, but most of the time he actually enjoyed it. Imagine, being able to touch a cookie and knowing how good it was before you even put it in your mouth? However, there was also discovery number two: spiders and lavender did not mix. That spritz of perfume had made his whole body feel like it was crawling with fire ants, his throat and nose and eyes ticking non-stop. He’d never had any allergies on earth, so it totally caught him off guard. Turning into a sneezing mess in front of Val had mortified him at the time, and rather than asking if he was alright Valentino had just wrinkled his nose in mild annoyance, and told his assistant that no one was allowed to wear lavender on set anymore. 

He’d later learned via extensive research that because spiders had such a strong, unique sense of smell, certain scents were just too overwhelming for his poor little body. Lavender was often the most annoying culprit, as it was fucking everywhere; in perfumes, in essential oils (don’t even get Angel started on those), in bouquets, hell, he’d had it in tea once by accident, having grabbed one of Charlie’s tea bags from the kitchen instead of his own. Being in a rush, he’d downed half the fucking cup before he realized, and Husk had been forced to half carry Angel up the stairs, he’d been sneezing and coughing so much.

Knowing what he knows now about Husks…preferences, he’s slightly less embarrassed about it. Key word slightly. But he knew that one sneeze from him would have Husk worrying and suggesting they go home, and there was no way he was having that.

He took a slow, shaky inhale, relieved to find that the prickling was slowly dying down. He sipped his wine, and grinned as the band began to play and two brass players stepped on to the stage, one on the trumpet and the other on the saxophone. One glance from Angel confirmed that it was in fact Coltrane. He knew what the guy looked like, Husk had the dude's face on at least 12 record labels in his room. 

Husk was in the middle of saying something, but Angel wasn’t really listening, too busy staring at Husk with a big goofy grin on his face, waiting in anticipation for him to realize. 

Husk, upon seeing the other man’s face, stops mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows. 

“What?” He says, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

Angel can’t help it, his eyes flick over towards the stage, giddy with excitement. Husk immediately turns and looks, and Angel savors the moment, watching as Husk’s eyes casually roam the stage for a moment before zeroing in on said saxophone player. 

His jaw fucking drops. 

He sits there for a moment, staring, dumbfounded, and Angel wishes he had his phone out so he could snap a photo of the expression on Husk’s face. He hasn’t ever seen Husk look this utterly awestruck and he can’t imagine he ever will again. Husk is notoriously composed; it’s why Angel takes such great pleasure in flustering him, the man always has his poker face on. But right now, the typical grumpy bartender kind of resembles a star truck teenage girl.

“I don’t—is that—is he—?“

Husk’s tongue seems to have gone numb, unable to finish a complete thought. 

“Yes, it’s really him!” Angel squeals, possibly even more excited about Husk seeing Coltrane than Husk is. “UGHHH it was so fuckin’ hard not to spoil the surprise, I wanted to tell ya’ sooo bad!” 

Husks mouth opens and closes several times, a bit like a fish. 

“I don’t—how did—-that’s John Coltrane,” he manages to get out, his voice three octaves higher than normal.

 Angel laughs, savoring the look on Husk’s face, wanting to remember it forever. 

“Y’ said you’d neva’ been taken out before,” he says, smiling. “I wanted ta’ do somethin’ real sphhecail for you.” 

His voice waivers a bit on that last part but thankfully, Husk seems too flabbergasted at the moment to notice. Angel feels his nose give a slight twitch, the first sign of an impending sneeze, and he discreetly gives it a quick rub with the back of his wrist. The prickling subsides a bit, and he turns his attention back to Husk, who looks a bit like he might pass out. 

“Ya’ doin’ okay there Whiskers?” Angel chuckles, and Husk’s eyes rapidly flit back and forth between Angel and Coltrane who’s begun warming up.

“Angel how…how did you do this?” He finally manages to get out, looking on in disbelief. 

Angel grins. 

“I have ma’ ways. Don’ go thinkin’ I can pull off shit like this for every date I take ya’ on,” he warns, chuckling. “But I wanted t’ make this one count. How’d I do?”

Husk whirls on him, his eyes wide with almost childlike wonder. 

“I— how did you do ?!” Husk practically shouts, quieting instantly as he gets some weird looks, remembering where he is. “Holy fuck Angel this is…this is the nicest, most thoughtful, insane thing anyone’s ever done for me. Alive or dead. Fucking Christ, I don’t—I can’t even—“

He’s saved from having to finish his sentence as Coltrane starts to play. Husk immediately goes quiet, cutting himself off mid-sentence and sucking in a sharp breath, fumbling blindly for Angel’s hand and squeezing it so hard he’s restricting the blood flow. His eyes are locked on the stage, his chest rising and falling slowly, like he’s worried that the moment will shatter if he breathes too heavily. 

Angel bites his lip, smiling, and goes quiet, not wanting to disturb the other man as he listens.  

The rest of the club actually goes quiet as well for a moment when Coltrane starts to play. Angel suspects most of them haven’t got a clue who he is, but regardless, Coltrane’s music commands a hushed attention. Angel finds himself immediately drawn in, his own mouth opening a little in awe at the beautiful music being made. In Angel’s body, he could feel the vibrations in his skin, and the sensation reminded him of warm honey, a crackling fireplace, a hot bath after a long day. 

He looks over at Husk, and while everyone else is watching the performers on stage, Angel just stares at the other man. 

Husk alternates between having his eyes open, staring at the stage in awe, and closing them, as if blocking out everything but the sound of the music. He’s so still, like he’s frozen in time, completely captivated. Low chatter returns as the club goers resume their conversations and card games but Husk remains utterly entranced, his attention unmoving from Coltrane and the other musicians. He only breaks away once, to lean over to Angel as a new piece begins and whisper excitedly, “This is one of his originals! He wrote this! This is Blue Train!” 

He resembles a little kid, the childlike excitement plain on his face, and Angel grins, giving his hand a silent squeeze.

When the waitress comes back with their appetizers Husk barely notices, enraptured by what’s happening on stage. Unfortunately this is not the case for Angel. The moment the lady is back in his general vicinity his whole body stiffens, that teasing tickle returning to his ears, his throat, his sinuses. It’s stronger now than it was before, and Angel can’t help it, his breath hitches just a little. 

“ heh…ehheh !” 

He fights to keep quiet as the waitress sets down their food, reaching into her apron for silverware. Every second she stands there Angel can feel the prickle in his sinuses growing stronger. His eyes begin to water. 

“I’ll be right back with your breadsticks, just couldn’t get them in one trip,” the waitress says quietly, hurrying off and leaving a cloud of lavender scent in her wake.

Oh god, don’t come back , Angel thinks, unsure how much more he can take. Making sure that Husk is still fixated on the show, he gently brings his fingers up to his face to pinch his nose shut, massaging it a little. 

“ ehhh…hahh…snniff…ihh !”

The hitching is getting worse, and Angel knows that despite his efforts, he’s going to sneeze. But with any luck, he can stave it off for a while longer; he’s held back sneezes for over an hour before, on set or with clients. Val would get so pissed when he couldn’t control them, so Angel had gotten pretty good at this over the years, if only to avoid a beating. Granted, he usually only managed to hold back that long when it was just a little, lingering tickle, not a faceful of an allergen, but still. He could do this. 

Just as he’s begun to regain control of his breathing, the fucking waitress returns, and Angel resists the urge to strangle her. He knows it’s not her fault, but as she sets the breadsticks down and the cloud of her lavender perfume assaults his senses once more, he has to fight to keep from yelling at her. 

“Here’s the check for you sir,” she says to Angel quietly, seeming to notice that Husk is lost in the music. “I can close it out now for you, if you’re ready, that way I don’t have to disturb you folks again. He seems like he’s really enjoying it,” she says, smiling at Husk. 

Angel fights to keep from breathing in, giving a shaky nod and reaching for the pen to tip and sign. His hands shake a bit as he does so, and fuck, her pen and the check are both covered in the scent too, and Angel touching them makes the tickle ten times worse; it feels like someone is stroking the inside of his nose with a feather, his whole body itchy and irritated. His gloves do help, thank god. This is part of the reason Angel wears them.

“Y-yeah, he ihhs, thhhanks,” Angel manages to get out softly, forced to give a small sniffle to keep his nose from running. A mistake, as he just inhales more of the ticklish scent into his nose. Fucking hell, with her standing this close he was rapidly loosing control. No, no, no, no, he thinks, scrunching up his nose and blinking several times as he signs with shaking hands. He knows that once he starts sneezing, he won’t be able to stop. His fits can last hours, and he’s not going to subject Husk to that and ruin this night that he spent so long orchestrating. 

Finally, after what feels like a millennia, the waitress collects the check and returns his card, thanking him before leaving. Angel, unable to hold his breath any longer, risks an inhale, which immediately sends fluttery, ticklish sensations all throughout his nose. His breath hitches again, and he brings a hand to his nose, trying desperately to keep it as quiet as possible. 

“ ehhh…heh…hehhh…ahhh… ”

With every little hitch, he inhales more and more of the flowery scent, and the itch becomes unbearable. But he can’t help it, hitching is also the only thing staving off the sneezes, while somehow at the same time making them all the more difficult to suppress. 

He accidentally lets a tiny cough slip, and Husk’s ears twitch, his gaze instantly flicking towards Angel. Angel pretends to be focused on the stage, hoping, praying that Husk is too engrossed in the performance to really give it much thought.

“You okay?”

Fuck. Angel is silently saying every curse word he knows. He tries for a reassuring smile, and a little nod, not trusting himself to speak without totally losing control. Husk eyes him suspiciously, his stupid cat senses probably picking up on the slightly erratic pattern of Angel’s breathing, the slight redness in his eyes. 

“I’m fhine,” Angel says quietly, wincing at the way his voice waivers. Sure enough, talking nearly sends him over the edge, and he’s forced to bring his wrist up to his nose to help him hold back.

“G-gonna uhhse th-the… ehheh !..rhestrhhoom,” he manages to squeak out, hurriedly getting up and bustling away, knowing he has about 4 seconds before the fit begins. 

Husk, thankfully, doesn’t follow him, just watches him go, and as soon as Angel is behind closed doors he lets go, unable to stave them off any longer. 

“ Ehhh… ehh-tchu! ehh …ehh-tchuh! Haahh …Hah-tCHU! Ahh …Ahh-chuu! Heh… Heh-tCHU!”

The fit continues, Angel taking gasping breaths in between sneezes, unable to stop. He isn’t sure how long it lasts...several minutes at least. He manages to stumble into one of the stalls and get his hands on some tissue paper about halfway through. Finally, the fit gradually dies down, and he’s left letting out tiny, exhausted sneezes in between deep, shuddering breaths. 

“ ehh …ehtchu! heh-chu! chu!”

He breaks off coughing for a moment, his throat pricking. With a shaky, cautious inhale, he’s relieved to find that the sneezing had stopped…at least for now. He knew this little reprieve wouldn’t last long. This was a full blown attack, and he’d likely have about 10 minutes before the next fit began, maybe 15 if he really held back. It wouldn’t be as bad or as long as the first, but it would be noticeable to Husk. He could sneak off to the bathroom again, but that would be sure to draw attention too. He’d have to come up with some other excuse. 

He took off his gloves and scrubbed his hands, wetting a paper towel and using it to wipe his eyes and nose. He gave a small sniffle, stifling one last sneeze into the crook of his arm, blinking blearily and shaking his head. 

“Game face,” he whispers to himself, a mantra he’d repeated thousands of times before getting ready to do yet another fucked up shoot for Val. He gave himself one last once over in the mirror before heading back out and rejoining Husk as the table. Husk looks up at him instantly, standing up as Angel joins him, ever the gentlemen. The gesture makes Angel blush a bit. 

“Aren’t you sweet?” He giggles, almost forgetting about the prickling and itching that’s making his body sting. 

“Everything alright?” Husk asks in a low worried tone, his eyes searching Angel’s features, looking for any sign that something is wrong. Angel hurriedly nods, sitting down and taking a bite of food, hoping the flavor will offset the lavender scent still clouding his senses. 

“Mhm,” he says, smiling, trying to sound convincing. “How’s the food?”

“Great,” Husk says honestly, seeming to buy Angel’s response. “It’s all great, the food, the drinks, this place, the talent…” he trails off, looking at Angel with almost bewilderment. “I don’t know how you pulled this of Legs,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “but ah. Thank you. This is…the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

Angel finds himself grinning, cheering internally. 

“Well I’m glad,” he says softly, taking Husk’s hand, unable to help himself from touching him. “You’re so good at all the…the romantic shit,” he huffs, laughing a little. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able ta’…ta’ measure up. So I went a liiiiitle overboard. I was worried ya’ think it was too much, that I’d… scare ya’ away or somethin’—“

Husk cuts him off with a laugh, loud and full and real. 

“Don’ think there’s much you could do that would scare me away kid,” he chuckles, shaking his head a little. “For the record, yeah, this was too much, but not cuz’ it’s overwhelming or anythin’, I just—fuck Angel, do I wanna know what ya’ had to do ta’ make this happen? Ta’ get those tickets, ta’ find him?”

Angel smirks. 

“How bout’ this, I promise I’ll tell ya’, cuz it’s a great fuckin’ story and I wanna brag, but let’s wait till after tonight. Right now I just wanna enjoy this with you.”

Husk laughs again, and Angel swears that as beautiful as the music is, he’d choose this sound over it every fucking time. 

The band begins to play again, their brief pause in between pieces having passed, and the two of them go quiet, Husk immediately drawn in again, entranced. Angel tries to pay attention to the performance, he really does, but he finds himself sneaking glances at his boyfriend, really just wanting to watch him. Husk is fucking breathtaking this way, so engrossed in the music.  His eyes flutter closed as he lets himself get lost in the sound, and Angel allows himself to stare at the other man unabashedly now, admiring the way the light hits his face, the serene expression there. 

Unfortunately, only moments after Husk’s do so, his own eyes flutter closed, and he’s forced to quickly turn away and stifle a tiny sneeze that managed to sneak up on him. He stifles it into his shoulder, his body jerking, but thankful, is able to keep it from making any sound at all, though doing so makes his head throb. Fuck, he can’t keep ogling his boyfriend, as much as he’d like, he needs to concentrate. The tickle, never having fully abated, is growing stronger again, prickling the back of his sinuses. He lets out a shaky exhale in the aftermath, peeking up to ensure Husk didn't notice. The other man’s eyes remain closed, oblivious. 

Sadly, that one sneeze has set the ball rolling, several minutes earlier than Angel had anticipated. With Husk’s eyes closed, he takes advantage of the privacy and uses his napkin to massage and rub his nose, trying to soothe the tickle. He can’t scratch the inside of his throat however, and the need to cough is also slowly encroaching. To top it all off, Angel’s eyes have begun watering again, suddenly itching something fierce, which shouldn’t be happening, a wet cloth usually took care of that symptom, unless…

Angel risks a glance over his shoulder, and sure enough, the waitress is back, taking care of the table directly beside theirs. Angel curses under his breath. The cherry on top is that the waitress and customer appear to be old friends, and they’ve begun chatting up a storm, the waitress showing no intention of moving anytime soon. 

Fuck. One exposure would leave him sneezy and sniffly for about an hour, but prolonged, repeated exposure? Who knew when this would abate.

His breath has already begun hitching again, and he’s forced to stop massaging his nose as Husk has opened his eyes again. Angel fights to keep us breathing steady but short little gasps still manage to escape. 

“ ehh…heh!…ihh!… ”

He watches as Husk’s ear twitches, picking up on the tiny sounds even among all the music and chatter in the club. He glances at Angel, and frowns, seeing the man’s eyes watering a bit. 

“Hey, are you sure—“

“Mhm,” Angel cuts him off before he can finish. He stands, knowing he has to get away from the waitress, even for a moment. It might seem suspicious, but if he stays here, with Husk looking at him, he will be caught sneezing again. 

“Grhhabbing some whhater,” he manages to get out, scrambling to leave and head over to the bar. He takes a seat on the very end, behind some other patrons, out of Husk’s line of sight, and is immediately overcome by the tickle, grabbing a bar napkin to duck into.

“ ehh ..etchh! hgxtch! htch! chx! chx! chx! snniff, hehh… ” 

He lets out a little whimper. The stifling is making his head pound, and these tiny, contained sneezes aren’t doing anything to relieve him of the unrelenting itch that is crawling all over his entire body, making him shudder with discomfort. 

“hmch! mchx! ahh …ah-tch! ehhtchu!”

Fuck, that last one got away from him. Thankfully, letting one out does allow him to just barely wrestle the itch back under control, his breath still hitching, but only hitching.

“ hehh…hehh…hahh…ehh?…snniff …”

The hitching slowly dies down, and he gives a hesitant few sniffles, not wanting to reignite anything. His nose still itches like crazy but not quite enough to sneeze. Normally this would drive him crazy but right now he welcomes it. A peek towards his table shows him that regrettably, the waitress is still over there, gabbing with her apparent best fucking friend. 

It doesn’t matter, he can’t stay here much longer or Husk, the attentive idiot that he is, will come looking for him. He gets his water and makes his way back to the table, the lavender already beginning to torture him from nearly 7 fucking feet away. Christ, he was so sensitive. 

He clears his throat quietly, sliding back into his seat, Husk already eyeing him, looking worried.

“What’s up?” the other man whispers as soon as he sits down, and Angel curses his boyfriend for being so goddamn caring and conscientious. 

“Shhh,” he says, doing his best to give a small smile. Fuck, he really is starting to feel awful. “M’ fhhine, let’s just listen.”

Husk does not look convinced, and opens his mouth to protest, causing Angel to wince a little. 

This seems to stop Husk in his tracks, the other man pausing. 

“I…alright,” he says with a little sigh, seeming like he wants to push more, but upon seeing the anxiety on Angel’s face, let’s it go for the time being. 

They listen in silence for the next three songs, Husk constantly shooting worried glances at Angel who sets his jaw and tries to breathe as little as possible. He is not going to let his…allergies? If that was even the right word, ruin this. 

He doesn’t know how he does it, making it through three more songs without so much as a sniffle. The waitress finally leaves around the middle of the second piece, giving Angel a little bit of relief. The band takes an intermission then, leaving the stage to lots of applause, Husk and Angel included. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Husk breathes, shaking his head. “I knew he was good but my god, seeing him in person…the guy’s a fucking god! Did you hear that glissando just now? And that bit of the bridge from the second piece? Jesus Christ, he looks so relaxed up there, it’s so easy for him…”

Angel was trying to listen, he really was, but the fucking waitress has returned, bringing the couple behind them their food and then walking right past Angel to bring drinks to the folks to their left. She passes him and a wave of lavender air breezes past him, and Angel’s skin, his ears, his nose, all scream with irritation. He can’t help it, he lets out an involuntary whimper. 

Husk immediately looks over at him, his brow furrowed with concern. 

“Angel,” he finally says softly, reaching across the table to take Angel’s hand, but Angel jerks back. Husk is wearing cologne, and while Angel usually loves it, right now, he worries that even through his gloves, the additional scent might push him over the edge. Husk frowns, now certain something is wrong. 

“Did I…did I do something?” He asks quietly, his face going a bit pale. 

“No!” Angel jumps to reassure him, not wanting Husk to think his odd behavior is in any way his fault, but speaking was a mistake. It destroys Angel’s last little bit of resistance and he’s forced to turn to the side, breath hitching. 

“ Hehh …hetchh! hgxtch! htch! chx! chx! chx! ehh ! ahtch! hah-ch!”

Oh god, they just won’t stop. Husk is at his side instantly, handing him some napkins and doing his best to sort of shield him from onlookers, knowing Angel will be embarrassed. Angel isn’t able to express his gratitude or even get out an apology. He only pauses sneezing for a split second during which he coughs a few times, his eyes streaming and his breathing erratic. Then, he ducks his head again and goes right back to sneezing, his ability to stifle slowly decreasing as the sneezes get harsher. 

“ Hah… hah-tchgx! hah-tchgx! Ahhh… ahh-tch! tch! tch! Heh-chu! chx! Heh-CHU! Ohhh ghhod,” he croaks, feeling any semblance of control he had left slipping.

“Jesus Christ kid,” Husk murmurs in his ear, sounding extremely worried. “What’s going on? S’ it me? I thought this cologne was okay…”

“Ndo,” Angel manages to get out, the fit letting up just enough for him to get a few words out. “Not you, ihhts the… the! Ahh-CHU! Heh-tchu! ihhh… ihhts the whaitress’s. Luhh…lavender… I’m! —hah-chu! ehh…ehtchu! ehhshuu! snniff , hahh …hah-tchu!”

Now that he’s unable to stifle, people are starting to look. Angel feels his cheeks burning with embarrassment. God, he hopes no one recognizes him. The porn star, having an allergic reaction; someone would be sure to film it and post it everywhere. Husk, sensing his concern, opens his wings just slightly, blocking Angel from view. 

“Fuck Angel,” he hisses, sounding worried. “Why didn’t you say something? C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”  

Angel wants to protest but is a bit incapacitated at the moment, unable to do much as Husk hoists him from his chair and steers him towards the backstage door, wanting to make a speedy exit. 

“Yhhou should st-st uhh !…ehhshu! Stay,” he manages to get out, sniffling miserably. God he itches . “Finish the shhhow.”

He hears Husk give an annoyed sigh beside him. 

“Angel, it’s fine, I’m not gonna leave ya’ alone like this. Ya’ fuckin’ tortured yourself ta’ let me watch the first half, believe me, that’s more than—umph!”

Husk is cut off, stopping short in his tracks, and Angel feels the other man stumble just a bit, apparently having bumped into someone. His wing comes up around Angel protectively, not wanting the other man to fall. 

“Fuck, sorry,” Angel hears Husk say to someone, and then suddenly, the other man freezes beside him, going totally stiff. Angel peeks his watery eyes open, to ensure both Husk and whoever he’s run into are unharmed. 

Husk, thankfully, seems fine, but he’s just standing there, unmoving, staring at something, or rather someone, his mouth hanging open. 

“Whoa,” John fucking Coltrane says, clapping a hand on Husk’s shoulder. “All good, sorry, y’all caught me off guard.” 

Husk, gaping, opens and closes his mouth several times, as if trying to form words, his left hand tightening its grip on Angel’s elbow, the other twitching at his side. 

Angel, unable to help it, coughs weekly, and bends to the side, sneezing once, twice…six times into his elbow. This snaps Husk out of it, slightly, and he blinks, fumbling to get a sentence out. 

“I…we…he’s—we were—ohmygod.” 

This is the best he can muster, his voice three octaves higher than normal. Coltrane doesn’t seem to notice, glancing at Angel with a raised eyebrow. 

“Shit, you alright man?” He asks, reaching into his back pocket and offering Angel a little pack of tissues. 

Angel coughs a little, and takes them gratefully, turning away to blow his nose slightly before hurriedly clearing his throat. 

“I’m fide,” he croaks, blinking his streaming eyes. “Just a…mindor allergic reaction. But uh, my frhiend here is a h-huge fan,” he manages to get out, breathily. “Think we chhould…fhhuck, sorry, h-hold odn…ehhshu! Think we could get an autograph?”

“Oh, for sure!” Coltrane says, still looking a bit concerned. He grabs a nearby bar napkin and a pen. 

“What’s your name man?” He asks, and Husk, still staring at the guy, dumbfounded, gives a little shake of his head. 

“Um, Husk,” he says, his voice a bit dry. He clears it. Coltrane gives him a smile, scrawling on the napkin. 

“He plays sax,” Angel chimes in, keenly enjoying this, despite feeling like his body is doused in rubbing alcohol. “He’s real good too. He loves all your stuff. Has ahhll your albums.” He coughs a little, sniffling.

“Yeah?” Coltrane says, grinning. “That’s awesome, I didn’t think anyone down here even knew my name. Maybe a while ago, but now? That's great man, I love meeting fans, you made my night.”

“I…made your night?” Husk says, almost squeaking in disbelief, and Angel chuckles, though it comes out as more of a wheeze. 

“For sure,” Coltrane says, offering Husk a warm smile and handing him the signed napkin. Husk takes it in his hand, holding it flat in his palm, staring at it like it’s the Hope Diamond.

“I gotta get back on stage, but here,” Coltrane says, pulling something out of his pocket. Angel can’t quite make it out, his eyes kind of watery, fighting to keep his breath from hitching. 

“S’ a guest pass. It’ll get ya’ in the door every night. I play on Tuesday’s, but tons of the old guys come through here, s’ a good spot for lots of us retirees to play. They’re always lookin’ for new players, maybe you can join sometime.”

“Oh god no,” Husk blurts out, his face turning red. “I mean that’s…real nice, but I’m not…a professional or nothin’ I jus’ play for fun. But thank you. For this. So much. I’ll…come back for sure. You were amazing. Seriously, you were so good—“

Angel cuts him off with another sneeze, a new fit starting up. At least he’s saving Husk from rambling like a doofus in front of his idol, he thinks, smiling a little internally. 

“Oh fuck, I’ve gotta get him home,” Huka says, his wing coming around Angel protectively. “But um. Yeah. Thank you!”

With that, Husk takes Angel’s waist and hurriedly ushers him out the door, Angel sneezing the whole way. They get outside, and Angel gasps with relief, the fresh air filling his lungs in a cool, soothing manner. 

Husk is rubbing his back with one hand, trying to provide some sort of comfort. 

“Y-you should …ehh …etchu! chu! hehh …heh-tchu! sniff . You should go back ihhh …in,” Angel breathes between sneezes. “Finish the show, I’ll… hhehh !…I’ll be fhhine, I~ hhh ~ehhtchu! ihhhshuh! huhh … hah-CHU!”

“Fuckin’ hell Angel, quit sayin’ stupid shit,” Husk grumbles from beside him, and Angel can feel him rolling his eyes. “The fuck do I need t’ go back for, I just got a free fucking pass to see him anytime I want .” Husk’s voice takes on a giddy undertone, his inner fangirl coming out. 

Angel chuckles a bit in between coughs. 

“Yhhou were so fhhucking starstruck,” he giggles, before having to turn away to let out three more little sneezes. When he turns back, Husk is blushing. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, though he’s grinning like an idiot. “The hell was I s’possed ta’ do, the guy was three inches from me. John Coltrane was three fucking inches from me. We talked .” 

“Gibe me that,” Angel says, sounding stuffy, gesturing to the napkin that Husk is gingerly holding in his right palm. Angel opens his purse, inviting Husk to put it in. 

“I…can you slide it in there?” Husk says softly. “Sorry, not ta’ ask you ta’ do me favors while you’re dying, I just…I don’t want my claws to rip it.”

Angel curses internally at himself for not thinking of that sooner. He carefully slips the signed napkin into the side pocket of his bag, zipping it up for safe keeping before having to turn away to sneeze…again. Several times. He feels Husk’s arms come around him and rub his shoulders lovingly, a tender gesture that makes Angel’s heart melt a little. 

“M’ still sorry,” he manages to get out, the sneezing finally dying down a bit, giving him a small break. “I tried to…t’ hold em’ back, I didn’t wanna ruin the date—“

“Ruin the—are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Husk says incredulously, looking at Angel like his the dumbest person alive. “Angel, tonight was the best fucking night of my life since I died. An’ as much as I hate ta’ see you suffering, s’ because of you and this whole fuckin’…” Husk trails off for a moment, blushing a bit. “…predicament, that we ran into my fucking hero and I got his autograph and a free pass to come see him play as much as I fuckin’ want. You didn’t ruin anything you idiot.”

Angel smiles, a bit relieved.

“Heh, if I’d know it’d lead ta’ that, I wouldn’tve been worryin’ so much all night. Happy…a h -ahhcident I ghhuess… ehh …etchu! heh-chu! ihh …ihhshu! snnifff . Ugh, oh mby god, itd wond’t stop,” he coughs miserably, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Don’t rub,” Husk says, gently pulling his hands away from his face. Angel wrinkles his nose, blinking several times in frustration. 

“Mmm but it ihhh !… ihh tches,” he whines, before ducking away and muffling a few more sneezes with his shirt. 

“I know, but you’ll jus’ make it worse,” Husk says gently, bringing his thumb up to swipe a few stray tears from Angel’s cheeks. Angel sniffles, his cheeks growing a bit pink. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, a bit self conscious, peeking at Husk through his bangs. Husk’s face is almost as flushed as his, the other man biting his bottom lip, looking a bit nervous, his pupils dilated and his breath catching in his throat.

“You don’t um. Don’t need t’ apologize,” he mutters, averting his eyes shyly. “Y’ know I don’t, erm…mind.” 

Angel smiles at that. 

“I still forget sometimes,” he admits, giggling a little. “How perfect ya’ are. Maybe later we chhan… ahhh , shh orry, one~ hhh !~shhecond… ehhh -shu! ihhshuh! heh …heh-tchu! heh-tchu! ehh …eh-tchi! chu! chu! Mmm, fuck, sorry,” he gasps, a bit breathless, and Husk’s wings come around him to steady him. 

“Let me call a cab,” Husk says softly, his voice a bit dry, his face flushed pink as he fumbles for his phone. “Y’ can’t walk home like this, an’ I won’t make ya’ fly again since yer afraid of heights.”

Angel scoffs defensively.

 “I am not ,” he says, frowning a little and crossing his arms. “I’m just not a h-hhhhuge fan of them,” he says breathily, his eyes fluttering closed for the 400th time. “ hehhh …hetchu! ahhh…ahhH… AH-chu!” He breaks off coughing, and Husk puts a tentative hand on his back. 

“Christ Angel,” the other man breathes in an equally aroused and concerned tone, “don’ think I’ve ever seen you this bad.”

“This isn’t eben the worst of itd,” Angel admits sheepishly, his voice all stuffed up. “You should see mbe around puhh …p hh epermint…”

God, just the word makes Angel’s nose tickle, and he has to turn away to stifle two quick sneezes into his wrist. 

“Here,” Husk murmurs from beside him, and Angel cracks and eye open to see Husk offering him his handkerchief. Angel gives a small, shy smile, his cheeks growing warm. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly, accepting it, turning to blow his nose a little as Husk calls a cab. 

The ride home is about twenty minutes, and Angel sneezes on and off the whole way. The cabbie shoots him a disgusted look, after which Husk growls and tells him to mind his fucking business. Angel smiles a little at that. 

They reach the hotel and Husk helps Angel inside. Thankfully, Angel’s fits are subsiding a bit now, the itchy feeling crawling all over his body still driving him mad, but the sneezes were a bit smaller, coming in shorter and shorter bursts. Husk, ever the dutiful caretaker, still hovered, looking concerned. As they make their way towards the stairs, they run into Charlie on her way down. 

“Husk! Angel!” She says, grinning. “How was…” 

She trails off, seeing Angel, who is an absolute mess. 

“…the date?” She finishes, looking worried. 

Husk, seeming to know Angel won’t want Charlie fussing over him, takes this one. 

“The date was fan-fucking-tastic,” Husk says, grinning wildly, and he sounds like he means every word. “But uh, Angel had a bit of ah…allergic reaction. He’ll be fine, just needs t’ get in the shower.”

“Oh!” Charlie says, looking a bit alarmed, but moving out of their way. “Go, go then,” she says, waving them on. “Text me if you need anything, feel better Angel!”

Angel manages to give a little nod, his breath hitching again, and Husk steers him up the stairs, his arm around Angel’s waist. 

They make it to the top before Angel has to pause, ducking into Husk’s handkerchief. 

“ Hahh …hah-tchu! Ehh… ehhshuu! Ahh …Atchu! sniff . Fucgking hell,” he says hoarsely, shaking his head a little and blinking blearily. Pressed up against Husk, he can feel the other man’s grip tighten around him just slightly. He glances over, and finds Husk’s gaze pointedly averted, his cheeks dusted pink. He’s clearly a little turned on, but his expression is mostly guilty. 

“Husk,” Angel says, chuckling softly. “S’ okay. You know I don’ mind. It’d be kinda hypocritical a’ me if I did.”

“I…I know,” Husk says, still looking embarrassed. “I jus’…you know. S’ new t’ me. M’ sorry you feel so shitty. An’ that ya’ fuckin’ tortured yourself all evening tryna hold out for me.” 

Angel smiles a little, giving Husk’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“It was worth it,” he says softly, and plants a soft kiss on Husk’s cheek, making the other man blush even more. 

As they enter Angel’s room, Fat Nuggets greets them, oinking happily and circling Husk’s legs. 

“Hang tight Nuggs,” Husk chuckles, leading Angel directly into the bathroom. “I gotta get your Dad here in t’ the shower for’ he passes out.”

Angel rolls his eyes at that. 

“M not gonna puhh …phhass out,” he says, though the waiver in his voice undermines him. “ ihhh… ihhshu! ehh-shu! hehh… hehshuu! Mmm, s’cuse mbe,” he sniffles a little, letting Husk sit him down on the tub. 

“S’ adorable when you do that,” Husk mumbles suddenly, his cheeks turning red as he says it. Angel tilts his head, laughing a little.

“Do what?”

“The way you um. The way you say ‘excuse me,’ after you…y’ know,” Husk says, face somehow flushing even more. Aw, he can’t even say the word , Angel thinks, resisting the urge to coo.

“Y’ say it a lot, n’ your usually…all stuffed up an’ cute sounding,” Husk says, giving a little nervous chuckle and moving to wet a washcloth, wringing it out before returning to Angel’s side and bringing it up to his face.

“Close your eyes,” Husk says softly, and Angel does so, letting Husk gently run the cloth over his face, carefully caressing his eyelids and cheeks and nose. When he reaches the latter, Angel can’t help but scrunch his face up a bit.

“That thhickles,” he says, giggling a bit. “H-hold on, I hafta… heh …hetchu! Mmm, sneeze.” 

He blinks a little, looking up at Husk. The other man is watching him with a fixed sort of fascination, letting out a shaky exhale. Angel is used to being stared at, but when Husk does it, his gaze is full of such genuine admiration and wonder that it makes Angel’s head spin. 

“I—fuck, sorry,” Husk nearly whispers, catching himself staring and standing abruptly. “I’ll uh. Let you get in the shower. Get all that shit off of you.”

Angel gives him a small smile, nodding, and watches the other man go, rubbing his nose a bit absentmindedly. As soon as Husk shuts the door, he strips and hops in, eager to have his body cease its infernal itching. Angel normally didn’t mind a bit of sneezing, in fact, he enjoyed it, but more severe reactions like this and the discomfort kind of outweighed the pleasure. 

He breathes a sigh of relief as the water pours over him, cleansing the flowery scent from his skin and hair. He gives himself a quick scrub down, wanting to get rid of any lingering smell. With the way his body operated, any missed spots could have him stuck sniffling and sneezing for the rest of the night. It was kind of funny when he thought about it…his nose acting up because of some leftover perfume on his upper arm. 

Once he was satisfied that he’d been thoroughly cleaned, he shut the water off and dried himself, tossing on his robe and heading out of the bathroom. Nuggs and Husk were on the bed, playing with one of Nugget’s chew toys, and Angel’s heart skipped a beat at the sickeningly sweet sight. 

“Feel better?” Husk asks as soon as he steps out, looking concerned. 

“Loads,” Angel says, smiling, and grabbing some boxers and a loose t-shirt from his dresser. Husk averts his eyes politely as he slips them on under his robe, ever the gentleman. Once he’s dressed he joins his two favorite boys on the bed, giving Nuggs some kisses. He has to turn away however, to stifle two little sneezes into his wrist, the ticklish sensation still there, but much fainter now. 

“ ehh… ehhksh! hehchu! Mm, s’cuse mbe.”

He glances up to see Husk watching him, his breath catching a bit in his throat. Angel feels himself grow a bit shy under the other man’s gaze, not used to having anyone look at him with such…veneration.

“You ah, you won’t offend me if you wanna sleep in your own room tonight,” Angel says sheepishly, rubbing at his nose a little. “I feel okay now but I’ll probably still be sneezing on and off for a while. Don’ wanna keep you up.”

Angel relishes the way this comment makes Husk blush something awful.

“I don’ mind,” the other man says, trying to sound casual and failing. “Sides’, when I fall asleep I’m out like a fuckin’ light. You with your tiny little kitten sneezes ain’t gonna wake me.” 

Angel shoots him a glare, it being his turn to blush a little.

“Fuck off, you know you like em’,” he teases, taking Nugg’s toy and throwing it for him, the little pig immediatly chasing after it.

“Yeah,” Husk breathes softly, his tone a bit more hushed now. “I do.”

Angel looks at him, and Jesus Christ, he’s so adorably flustered by his own confession that Angel can’t resist rolling over so that their foreheads almost touch. 

“You know,” he says lowly, smiling a little, “what I was trying to say back at the club, before I was ah…interrupted,” he chuckles, “was that if you wanted we could um. Maybe…take advantage of the situation and…have some fun with it?” He suggests, wondering why his heart is pounding so hard, given that he makes seductive suggestions like this all the fucking time at work. It’s different with Husk though. Everything is different with Husk. 

The other man’s eyes widen a little, and he sucks in a sharp breath, his expression a mix of desire and anxiety. 

“Do you…do you feel really badly?” He whispers, looking almost pained at the idea of getting any sort of pleasure from this if Angel is feeling poorly. 

“Not at all,” Angel assured him with a warm smile, gently stroking the other man’s cheek. “The shower took care of the worst of it. Now I just…have a little tickle in my nose.”

His words make Husk fucking squirm, and Angel would be lying if he said he wasn’t also insanely turned on. He liked sneezing when it wasn’t too overwhelming, and Husk being so attentive and caring all evening had him weak in his damn knees. 

“O-okay then, I um. Yes,” Husk says, clearing his throat a little, voice wavering slightly. “I’d…I’d like that. S’ long as we can uh. Go a bit slow.”

Angel doesn’t need to be told twice. He nods, and gently brings his lips to Husk’s savoring the way the other man is already trembling a little beside him. Their lips graze each other’s, just so, before Husk deepens the kiss, pulling Angel against him so that their legs are entwined and their chests touch. Angel lets out a happy little moan, still not quite used to how damn electrifying kissing Husk feels. His kisses remind Angel of the forest after it rains, of a breath of fresh air after you’ve been stuck in a club room full of smoke. They make him feel fresh, alive, new . 

Carefully, after getting verbal confirmation, Angel gently moves so that he’s on top of Husk, and rolls his hips against the other man’s just a little, savoring the way it elicits the prettiest little moan. He kisses him again, using a little tongue this time, and Husk welcomes it, returning the favor. Before long however, Angel is forced to pull back just a bit, his breath hitching slightly. 

“Hhhusk I’m… I’m!…ehh …”

He turns and ducks his face into Husk’s shoulder, letting the other man’s fur help the tickle along.  

“ heh…hehhh! Heh-tchuu! ehhh…ehh -tchuu! snniff. Ohh , s’cuse mbe.” 

Husk let’s out a whimper of pleasure, his hips rising of their own accord to meet Angel’s, and he places trembling hands on the other man’s waist, as if Angel is a life-life, holding him together. 

“Aw Husk,” Angel whispers fondly, gently stroking the other man’s face. “Sweetie, you’re shaking.”

“Quit looking so smug and fucking kiss me,” Husk growls, and Angel giggles, happy to oblige. They continue like this for several more minutes, Husk arching his back a bit so he can reach Angel’s neck, paying close attention to that sweet spot right below his ear that makes Angel absolutely hum with utter bliss. 

“Fhhuck Husk,” he breathes, feeling the tickle begin to tease him again. He turns his head slightly, preparing to duck into his own shoulder, but the shower has left him with a feathery, vexing sort of prickle, enough to turn him into a hitching, sniffling mess, but not enough to actually let him sneeze. 

“Ugh, ihhts …ahhh…hahhh…snifff …ihhts ~ heh !~ sthhuck,” he moans a little, his nose twitching like crazy. 

Beneath him, Husk inhales sharply, his hands trailing lightly along Angel’s back.

“Do you…do you want some help?” Husk asks shyly, his voice barely a whisper. Angel nods, desperately, his eyes fluttering closed as his breathing just grows more erratic. 

“ Ohhh ghhod, hehhh… yhhes, puhh …puhhlease, it’s s-so…so bad,” he practically whimpers, feeling his own body trembling with need.

Ever so gently, he feels Husk reach up and lightly run a single claw down the bridge of his nose. That one little touch is enough to push Angel over the edge.

“ Heh ! Heh-tchu! Ahh… Ahh-CHU! ehh…hehh …ehhshuu! Ohh fuck, that felt good,” he breathes, unable to keep his own hips from squirming against Husk’s. The other man looks like he enjoyed that just as much as Angel did, and he lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a squeak.

“Angel, I um. I have to…stop,” Husk says through grit teeth, as if the words physically pain him. “If we don’t I might uh…you know. Fuck, I’m sorry—“

“Nooo,” Angel tsks, immediately dismounting and shaking his head. “No apologizing, remember? Of course we can stop.” 

He giggles a little, snugging into Husk’s side and resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’m um. I’m glad you enjoyed that as much as I did,” Angel says sheepishly, giving a nervous laugh. 

Husk glances down at him, his face flushed, a slightly embarrassed smile on his face. 

“I…yeah me too,” he says softly, giving Angel’s hand a squeeze and rolling over to give him a tiny peck on the cheek. 

“Hey,” he says suddenly, his tone a bit chastising, frowning at Angel. “Don’ ever try t’ hide when you ain’t feelin’ well. Can’t believe you spent the whole evenin’ feelin’ like shit. You should’ve told me.” 

 

Angel averts his eyes, fiddling with the comforter.

“I know, I know, I just…it was such a special night, I didn’t want to spoil it. Sides’ you’re so fuckin’ caring and considerate I know you would’ve left with me immediatly, and I didn’t want that.”

Husk sighs, looking equal parts endeared and exasperated. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He chuckles softly, running a gentle hand along Angel’s cheek. Angel feels himself blushing at the little gesture, biting his lip.

The moment is short lived unfortunately you, as he’s forced to roll over a bit, angling away to let out two soft, tired sounding sneezes over his shoulder, followed by a yawn. 

“Sleepy?” Husk asks softly, and Angel blinks a little, nodding. 

“Mm, yeah. A little. Sorry, I know it’s kinda early…”

“That’s okay,” Husk says, smiling. “I get it, reactions like that take a lot out of you.”

“Mmm,” Angel hums, sniffling a little, blinking sleepily. Husk chuckles a little, and stands, gently pulling a tired Angel up with him into a sitting position. Angel, suddenly exhausted, let’s his head slump forward against Husk’s chest, making the other man laugh. 

“C’mon Legs, let’s get you to bed,” he says fondly, stroking the back of Angel’s head with one hand and pulling back the covers with the other. Then, before Angel can register what’s happening, he’s scooping Angel up bridal style, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Angel makes a happy little noise of a surprise, blushing at Husk shyly. His eyelids drooping, he gives a tired little cough into Husk’s chest, the lingering prickle in his throat still bothering him a bit. 

Husk carries him to the head of the bed and slowly eases him down, pulling the covers up and around Angel, who smiles. 

“Are you tucking me in?” He teases fondly, the sweet gesture making his heart skip a beat. Before Husk can answer, Angel ducks his head into his wrist with the tiniest little “ ehh …ehtchu! sniff . S’ cuse mbe.”

“I don’ ever like seein’ ya’ under the weather,” Husk murmurs, shaking his head a little, unable to keep from smiling, “but you’re fuckin’ adorable when you’re like this, y’ know that?”

Angel giggles a little, fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“You’re sweet,” he whispers, his voice still a bit congested, ending in a little cough. Husk gives his hand an affectionate little squeeze, brushing some hair out of Angel’s face and gently helping to lift his head and prop him up a bit so he can breathe. Angel swoons a little at that. 

Fat Nuggets hops up on the bed then, as if sensing it’s bedtime, and comes to curl up right at Angel’s side, Angel wrapping his second set of arms around the little pig and snuggling in to him. His eyes begin to droop closed, and he hears Husk getting up to turn off the light and shimmy out of his overalls and into some loose sleep shorts. He joins Angel in bed a moment later, slipping under the covers and coming to wrap his arms around him, placing a whisper of a kiss on his right shoulder. Angel sighs happily, wondering how he went so long without this. Husk’s arms were heaven, his heaven, and he found he didn't much care for the real one.

He lets out another tiny sneeze, his body jerking forward just slightly in Husk’s embrace.

“khh-shu! Mm.” He sniffs, snuggling further into Husk’s embrace. Behind him, Husk gives a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrates pleasantly throughout Angel’s bones. 

“Goodnight Legs,” he whispers in Angel’s ear, and Angel melts, feeling sleep rapidly approaching. 

“Night Whiskers,” he murmurs, feeling himself being to drift off. “Thanks for…takin’ care of me.”

Behind him, Husk lets out a happy little sigh. 

“Always kid. Now sleep.”

And Angel does. 

 

[coolbeans18]

Chapter 2: Allergic to You

 

The bar is buzzing. More and more patrons seem to frequent it each week, and Husk has been crazy busy as of late, having to double his prep before opening and rarely even having time for his usual fifteen minute break. He, Charlie and Alastor have been interviewing some folks, looking to hire a second person to help Husk work the floor and wait tables, but Alastor, the typical bastard, is being particularly picky. Probably not happy about potentially making Husk’s job any easier, god fucking forbid. 

But for now, Husk doesn’t mind the business. It gives him something to do, something to work towards; he hasn’t had anything like that in a long time. Even if he wasn’t being forced to be here, Husk likes to think he’d stay on, really enjoying managing a bar of his own. Well, of Charlie’s. But she always told Husk this was a team effort, that the bar belonged to them both. She was a good coworker, and Husk found himself looking forward to sitting down with Charlie and brainstorming ideas, coming up with more ways to draw patrons to the hotel. 

Even as he bustles around every night, the real highlight of his day is when Angel comes home. No matter how busy it is, Husk always takes time to make him a drink and ask him about his day, even if it’s a quick conversation. His boyfriend had been getting off surprisingly early lately…a lucky streak that Husk knows won’t last long, but he’s enjoying it while it does. When Angel works the day shift, sometimes he’s back as early as 3pm, and the two have some time to hang out together before dinner. 

Today he’s working the evening, and it’s about 10pm when he stumbles inside, looking worn out, but otherwise alright. Husk, fixing a scotch on the rocks for a customer, feels a big, foolish grin spread across his face when he sees Angel. The other man closes the lobby doors behind him, stretching a little, as he usually does after a long day of work. His eyes immediately begin to roam the lobby floor, finding Husk’s and grinning. 

He makes his way over and sits down on his signature stool, resting his cheek on his hand and gazing at Husk fondly as he finishes up one customer's drink and closes the tab of another. Husk keeps shooting him sideways glances as he works, itching to greet him. Finally, the lady he’s dealing with tips and signs, and Husk tosses the receipt in the register a bit half hazardly and hurries over to Angel. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a dump like this?” he jokes, giving Angel a little peck on the forehead. Husk isn’t normally one for PDA, but with Angel he finds some of his previous qualms don’t really bother him much anymore. Angel snorts, giving Husk’s hand a little squeeze.  

“Be honest, how long ago did you think of that line?”

Husk chuckles, turning to start on Angel’s drink. His nose has started running a little, but he doesn’t think much of it, just giving a small sniffle and grabbing some ice.

“Bout’…4 hours ago,” he says over his shoulder, and Angel giggles. 

“What, you just sit around all day thinkin’ of cute new ways to greet me?”

Husk shoots him a smirk. 

“Maybe. What else have I got to do all day while you’re gone?”

Angel laughs.

“I don’ know, s’ pretty busy in here, can’t imagine you jus’ standin’ around waitin’ up for me anymore.”

Husk sighs, giving a dry chuckle. It ends in a little bit of a cough, which is odd, but he shake it off.

“Ah, the good ol’ days,” he jokes, glancing at Angel over his shoulder.

Angel smirks. “Oh, be honest, you like it. Yer’ always tellin’ me about you an’ Charlie’s latest ideas. I think it’s cool, seein’ this place busy for once.”

Husk shrugs, though he’s smiling.

“I do like…caring about something for a change,” he admits, grinning as he presents Angel with his strawberry daiquiri, the other man clapping like a little kid and greedily reaching for it.

“Mhm,”Angel hums, taking a big sip of the drink. “Caring about shit suits ya’ Whiskers,” he says in between big gulps, a flirty smile on his face. “Is there maybe….anything else ya’ started caring about lately?”

“Nope,” Husk says, grinning. Angel frowns, looking annoyed.

“You’re no fun,” he says flatly, and Husk laughs.

“If you’d let me finish,” he teases, coming to lean over the bar, face to face with his boyfriend. “I was gonna say, no, nothing else lately. Cuz’ I cared about you way before I started caring about this joint, ya idiot. Why else d’ ya’ think I stuck around even while you were throwing all your fake flirty bullshit in my face?”

Angel raises an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but Husk see’s him flush just a bit.

“Well, it clearly wasn't all fake,” he mutters, looking a little embarrassed, and Husk chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair affectionately. As he does so, a sudden tickle in his nose flares to life. Husk steps back a bit abruptly, giving a little inhale of surprise.

A mistake. A floral, ticklish scent fills his nose and he scrunches it up a bit, fighting the urge to sniffle.

Angel raises an eyebrow.

“You okay?”

“Yhheah,” Husk says, voice wavering a bit, feeling his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Shhorry, gonna…snhheeze…ehh, ehh-choo!”

He gives a tiny cough at the end shaking his head a little.

“Fuck, sorry, don’ know where that came from,” he mutters, a little self concious. He busies himself by starting on the next cocktail, having fallen a tad behind by talking to Angel.

“I—um—bless you,” Angel says, clearing his throat a little. Husk shoots the other man a small, knowing smile which just makes Angel flush, scowling at Husk.

“Oh, fuck off and catch up on orders,” he says, looking sheepish. Husk just chuckles a little, and moves to finish up the mojito he’s making before moving on to the next drink. Angel, inhaling his drink, points to the finished cocktail.

“Wan’ me to run that?” He asks around his straw, still slurping.

“Nah, I got it,” Husk says, “you relax. I do want you to stop drinking that so fast though, you’re gonna give yourself a brain freeze.”

Angel flips him off, pointedly drinking the daiquiri even faster, and Husk rolls his eyes, going to grab some cherries for a Dirty Shirley.

As he’s bending over to get into the bar fridge, the prickle in his nose returns, and he huffs, annoyed, scrunching it up a little. His eyes have started itching a little now too, and he blinks a few times, sniffling a little. What the fuck? He thinks, mildly annoyed. He made sure to keep any allergens out of his bar, having shot down Charlie’s request to have little flowers on the table, convincing her to use candles instead. Still, as he poured soda and vodka over ice, the itching continued, and he could feel his eyes starting to get slightly puffy. He resists the urge to rub them.

When he stands, placing several made drinks on a tray and preparing to run them over, he catches sight of Angel out of the corner of his eye, holding his temples and wincing.

“Told you,” Husk says smugly as he breezes past the other man, laughing as Angel glares at him. “Rub your tongue on the roof of your mouth, it’ll help,” he advises.

“You bout’ you rub your tongue on the roof of my mouth,” Angel bites back, flashing Husk a wicked grin that makes the other man’s face warm.

“Just…do it,” Husk growls, hurrying away with the drinks before he can blush. Angel’s little jabs affect him way more now that he knows the other man actually means them. He tries not to let himself linger on the thought of Angel’s tongue in his mouth, lest he get hard right in the middle of his fucking shift.

He’s about halfway to the first table when his nose starts to itch again. Well, maybe starts is the wrong word. It’s already itchy, every breath causing a fluttering tickle in his sinuses, and he can’t for the life of him figure out why. It builds slowly, tantalizingly so, and just before he can set the tray down he is forced to duck his head towards his shoulder, stifling two small sneezes.

“Hgtx! Eh-gtx!”

The tray shakes, but he doesn’t drop it, thankfully. He gives a shuddery exhale, and hurriedly hands out drinks, quickening his pace in an effort to get everyone served before he sneezes again. He might be slightly less self conscious in front of Angel given the other man’s…recent revelations, but sneezing in front of others mortified Husk. He didn’t quite know why…maybe it was because of his own feelings about sneezing, or his general efforts to keep from showing any real vulnerability (something he was working on with Charlie). Maybe it was because Husk valued his poker face, liking to operate in the background, unnoticed, unreadable. Sneezing just drew so much damn attention, and Husk, unlike Angel, hated the spotlight. He often wondered, had his life gone differently—had his father not left, his mother not been poor and alone, had he not taken up gambling, been drafted—if he’d ever been able to actually do what he’d wanted to as a child, and perform close up magic for a living, would he have ultimately failed anyway due to stage fright?

He hadn’t had any qualms about performing for others as a kid, always standing on some street corner in Vegas doing tricks for anyone who would watch. He wasn’t sure when his social anxiety had started…maybe he’d unpack that with Charlie sometime. For now though, he just concentrated on making it back behind the bar without sneezing his head off.

Thankfully, as he drops off the last of the drinks, he finds the itching is fading, his eyes ceasing in their watering. Maybe it was just a one off, some customer’s perfume setting him off briefly. Perfume and cologne didn’t usually affect him much; that was Angel’s thing, but once and a while a floral scent would bother him a little. He takes a breath, taking the last patrons card behind the bar to close out her tab.

Apparently he spoke too soon. He walks behind the bar to print the receipt, and finds that his nose immediately starts running again. He sniffles a little, which sadly just makes the tickle in his nose return worse, a burning sensation in his sinuses.

He curses under his breath, forced to pause his work at the register and fumble for his handkerchief, unsure if he’ll be able to stifle these. He hurriedly turns to face the back of the bar, to give himself some privacy before—

“Ehh…ehhch! Hgtx! Hgtch! Heh-chx! Huh…huhh…Huh-choo! Hruh-shoo! Hrshuh! Ugh. snniff.” He blows his nose a little, snuffling. God, what is wrong with him?

“You okay there Whiskers?”

Husk curses silently, turning to find Angel there, looking a little concerned.

“M’ fhhine,” he says gruffly, his voice shaking as the tickle has suddenly become ten times worse and he can’t for the life of him fathom why. He’d been improving until he came back behind the bar. And then…

Oh fuck.

Husk realizes what’s happening and a tiny ball of dread coils in his stomach. But no, that can’t be right, can it? The only thing on Angel that could be causing a reaction would be some kind of cologne or perfume, and Husk knew none of those bothered him; the other man could only wear a few specific scents that didn’t bother his own nose.

Husk takes a tentative step towards the other man, wanting to be sure.

“Are you positive?” Angel asks him, brow furrowed. “Christ Husk, your face is all red.” The other man gently takes Husk wrist and tugs him a bit closer, trying to get a better look at him.

The result is fucking instantaneous.

“Ihhhshoo! Huh…Huhshuh! Hruh-shoo! Heh…Heh-SHOO! Huh-CHOO!…AH-chOO!”

Husk has turned around at this point, facing the back of the bar, sneezing uncontrollably. The fit continues for nearly two minutes, not aided by Angel who hurries around the bar and comes to stand right fucking next to him, wanting to help.

“Jesus Husk!” The other man exclaims, putting a soothing hand on his back and angling his own body a bit to shield the Husk from any onlookers. Husk would normally be grateful, but with Angel this close the itching sensation only gets worse, his eyes streaming as he bends at the waist again and again, unable to stop. 

“What’s bothering you?” He vaguely hears Angel ask. “Are you sick? What is it?”

“I dhhon’t—ehhshoo! ehh…ahhh …Ahh-CHOO! sniff . I don’t kndow,” Husk lies, beginning to cough a little. His handkerchief is all used up at this point and Angel notices, frantically patting his own pockets, searching for another one. 

“Wait right here,” he says in a rushed tone, and hurries over across the bar to his seat where he’s left his purse, rummaging through it for a spare. 

Thankfully, this gives Husk a small moment of reprieve, the itch dying down just enough to allow him to regain control, rubbing his nose fiercely with the hanky to get the tickle to back down a little. He finally manages to stop sneezing, and dabs at his eyes a bit, taking a gasping breath, feeling his lungs tighten just a little. Fucking hell, if this gets any worse, he’s going to have an asthma attack, which is the last thing he needs. He focuses on breathing, trying to force air down his throat. 

Angel starts to return, bringing Husk a fresh handkerchief, which Husk accepts, but before the other man can come any closer, Husk takes an instinctive step backwards, extending his arm. 

“Just…give me a minute?” He croaks, already feeling the teasing tickle growing stronger with Angel now a foot away. 

Angel, thankfully, listens, immediately stopping, his hands opening and closing at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them. 

“I…sorry,” he says softly, wincing a little. “I didn’t mean to…I get you might not want to be touched right now. I just—how can I help?” He asks, looking anxious and a little desperate. Husk feels his heart splinter a little. Well now I’m definitely not telling him , he thinks, feeling guilty.

“Nhho,” he tries to amend, voice wavering. “That’s n-not…h-hold odn…ihhh …ihhshoo! Ehh… ehhshuh!” He coughs a little, feeling his lungs start to close up again. 

“That’s ndot what I meandt,” he manages to choke out, wheezing a little. “I just—can you run drinks for a second? I don’t want to fall b-behind…ehh! Eh-tch!” 

He sniffles a little, stifling into his wrist,  looking up at Angel with blearily eyes.

Angel sighs, still looking very worried. 

“Of course,” he says, already grabbing a tray. “But why don’t we kick these people out of here? You can’t work like this.”

Husk just shakes his head, his eyes already fluttering closed again. 

“I dohhn’t…heh-choo! Ugh, I don’t wanna mbake us look bad,” he manages to get out, voice congested. “S’ almbost 11, people will go hombe soon. I chhan… ehhh ! Ehh-CHOO! Fucgkin’ hell. I cadn mbake a few mbore drinks, if you cadn help run themb.”

“Y’ can barely talk,” Angel mutters, looking dissatisfied, but sighs, loading the pre-made drinks onto the tray and checking their tickets. “Fine,” he relents, looking at Husk warily, “but I’m putting the closed sign up early so more people don’ come in.” 

Husk just nods, really needing Angel to go, and put some distance between them. Whatever the hell Angel is apparently covered in is starting to give him hives. 

Angel walks away, and Husk finally lets himself breathe, taking a shaky inhale that ends in a cough, his chest having tightened even more. He gives a little shake of his head, washing his hands quickly and starting on the next order. Thankfully, it’s just two martinis, and Husk makes quick work of them both, leaving them at the end   of the bar for Angel to grab without having to get close again. 

With Angel running drinks, and thus not beside him, Husk gradually starts to improve, his breathing getting slightly better, his eyes itching a little less. His nose however continues to tickle, and for the remaining hour Husk finds himself stifling tiny fits into his shoulder, thankful that there aren’t many people sitting right at the bar to give notice. 

About ten minutes later, the hives on his arms begin to show, and Husk is thankful for his fur for once, as it makes them a lot less obvious. When he was alive, they were painfully visible, bright red and bumpy and jarring to look at. 

He tries to avoid scratching, he really does, but they’re so fucking irritated and sensitive that he eventually breaks down and gives in a little, which of course just makes the itching worse. He gingerly wipes his eyes with his wrist, feeling puffiness receding just a little at Angel’s absence. 

I just need to make it to the end of the shift, Husk thinks. Then he and Angel would go upstairs, both shower, and that would be that. Granted, he’d still be a little sniffly for the rest of the night but he’d take some meds and be fine. Chalk it up to a mystery that would remain unsolved and they could both go to sleep, Angel none the wiser. Husk knew the poor kid would feel downright awful if he discovered the truth and Husk didn’t want that. So long as Angel stayed away from him, it would be alright; this was far from the worst reaction Husk had experienced and he’d really rather not burden Angel with the more severe results that prolonged exposure could cause. His allergy attacks could get…very unpleasant to say the least. 

He struggles through the remaining half hour, his breathing unfortunately taking a turn for the worse as the night wears on. Finally, it’s midnight, and there’s only two remaining patrons lingering, to whom Angel approaches and pointedly announces, “We’re closed. You have to leave. Now .”

Not exactly the best customer service but it makes Husk smile a little, watching as Angel snatches their drinks off the table and slaps the check down, staring at the guy as he signs and tips. Angel grabs the slip of paper back, glancing at it, and glaring at the man. 

“That better be a 7, not a 1,” Angel says, narrowing his eyes as if daring the guy to question him. The man gulps a little, and nods, hurriedly gathering his things and dragging the lady he’s with out the door behind him. 

Angel busies himself clearing a few more tables and carries the now empty glasses to the bar, coming behind to place them in the sink. He then whirls on Husk, arms crossed hip cocked. 

“You, shower, now,” he demands, and Husk frowns at him.

“I will, I just gotta do closing chores first.”

“I’ll do them,” Angel says, taking a step closer. Husk forces himself not to back up. “You need to get whatever’s bothering you off of you.”

Me showering won’t help unless you do it first, Husk thinks, chewing on his bottom lip as he feels the itchy sensation start to grow worse again. 

“You um. You don’ kndow to do s~ hh ~some of thhhemb,” he wheezes, breath starting to hitch again. “I ghhot it, I’ll m-meet yhhou up…upstairs— heh ! Heh-choo! Ehhh…ehhh ! EH-shuh! Oooo fuck,” he murmurs, wincing a little. Those were a bit painful, grating on his tight chest, his throat, his nose. He really didn’t want a nose bleed right now. 

Angel, looking exasperated, sighs. 

“Okay,” he huffs. “Then I’ll help ya’. I can do all the shit I do know how ta’ do, it’ll make it go faster.”

Noooo , Husk wants to moan. How the hell is he supposed to talk his way out of this one? He’d just have to endure it. He could hold back for another 30 minutes. 15 with Angel’s help. The reaction so far was still mild by Husk’s standards. He could do this.

He sniffles and sneezes and coughs his way through various chores, Angel constantly shooting him very worried glances. The minutes tick by, each one more tortuous than the last, and Husk begins wheezing with every single inhale, growing a bit light headed from the lack of oxygen. Still, he manages to stifle his symptoms enough, keeping Angel from realizing how bad it’s getting. He’s on the last task, emptying the ice bin, thinking he’s in the clear, when the strain of lifting the damn thing catches up with him and he gasps, his lungs seizing up and sending him hacking into his elbow, dropping the ice on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he hears Angel curse, and resists the urge to scream as the other man hurries over, standing right fucking beside him and bending over to pick up the ice tub. He looks at Husk in slight panic, noticing the other man struggling to catch his breath, and finally seeing the hives that have started to peek through Husk’s fur. He’s not touching Husk, thank god, but he may as well be, his presence sending itchy prickles throughout Husk’s nose, throat and chest. When he finally does manage to stop coughing, he gets no relief, immediately breaking into a sneezing fit. 

“Hehtchuh! Ehh…ehh-choo! Ah-CHOO! snifff.” His nose running, he grabs the handkerchief Angel gave him, bringing it up to rub his nose. 

Huge fucking mistake. While it’s not as bad as Angel himself, the same scent covering the other man also lingers on his handkerchief, and the tickle in Husk’s nose fucking erupts, Husk’s face feeling like it’s on fire. 

“ehh…Ehh-shoo! Ihhhshoo! Huh…Huhshuh! Hruh-shoo! Heh…Heh-SHOO! Huh-CHOO! Ahh…AH-chOO! Hruh-SHOO!”

Given that he has nothing else, his own embarrassment has him forcing himself to keep his poor, sensitive nose pressed right into hanky that’s covered in whatever is causing this reaction. It continues to torment him, making his nose unbelievably ticklish and itchy.  

“Heh…heh! Hehtchoo! Ehh-shoo! Ihhhshoo! Huh…Huhshuh! Hruh-shoo! Heh…Heh-SHOO! Huh-CHOO! Ahh…AH-chOO! Hruh-SHOO!  Ehh-SHUH! Ihhhshoo!! Huh…Huhshuh! Hruh-shoo! Heh…Heh-SHOO! Huh-CHOO!”

“Okay,” Angel says definitively, sounding extremely worried. “I’m taking you to the doctor.”

Husk shakes his head frantically, the sudden anxiety this statement causes only making his throat close up even more. 

“Husk,” Angel sighs, trying to sound gentle but the fear in his voice is evident. “You can’t breathe sweetie. An’ we got no idea what’s causing this. I’ll have Charlie pull the car around—“

“N-ndo!” Husk manages to choke out, knowing that being trapped in a closed car with Angel may well kill him. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to take a shuddery inhale. He just ends up coughing. His vision has begun to darken around the edges.

“Ihht’s…heh-chuh! ahh …ah-choo! eheh …hruhshuh! It’s y- yhh !-you,” he finally manages to get out. “S-shhomthing’s—Heh-CHOO! Shhomthing’s o-odn you, I… huhh …Hruhshuh! Huh-shoo! Huh-ShOO!” 

He manages to crack one watery eye open, and the look of horror in Angel’s eyes fucking destroys him. The poor kid’s face crumples, and he instantly scrambles backwards, putting several feet between Husk and himself. The relief is immediate, Husk feeling his throat open just a tad, finally able to get a breath, gasping for air and coughing some more. His face still feels like it’s on fire, and he instinctively blows his nose, forgetting that the handkerchief is making the reaction worse. 

“ Ohh fhhuck, ehhh… etchoo! Heh …heh-choo! Ah… Ah-choo!”

Angel, realizing what’s happening, hurriedly grabs a handful of napkins, wanting to provide Husk with some relief, knowing the other man is to embarrassed not to cover. He starts to offer them, then, realizing that he’s touched them, making them just as compromised as the handkerchief, groans in frustration, hurrying over to the sink to scrub his hands and then repeating the task. 

He holds the napkins out to Husk with a long, outstretched arm, staying as far away as humanly possible. Even this makes Husk sneeze more, but he takes the napkins, trying (but failing) to keep his claws from ripping through them. They tear a little at the edges, but they’ll have to do. Husk discards Angel’s used handkerchief and uses the napkins to blow his nose, finally getting some much needed respite. 

He heaves a sigh of relief, which ends in a little cough, and he winces, rubbing at his chest. It’s stopped constricting any further, but it isn’t loosening, and his lungs feel like someone’s dropped an anvil on them, every breath a heavy struggle. 

“My god Husk,” Angel says miserably, now sitting down on the opposite side of the bar. “I’m so sorry.” 

His arms are curled around his legs and he’s rocking back and forth a little, the way he does when he’s trying to calm down. Husk longs to comfort him, to hold him, but he knows he shouldn’t. 

“I was—we did a shoot in a garden today,” Angel says quietly, his voice loaded with guilt, fisting his hands in his hair. “Fuckin’ hell, I was on that set for hours , I’m probably covered in pollen, Jesus, I’m so fucking stupid, I didn’t even think—“

“S’ okay,” Husk rasps, cutting him off, unable to stomach the look on Angel’s face. “Really. Yhhou didn’t…heh…heh-tch! Ahh…Ah-chx! mchx!” Husk whimpers involuntarily, the stifling making his chest and head ache. 

“Don’t do that,” Angel says quietly, eying Husk warily, fidgeting nervously with his gloves. 

“ Ehh… ehhchuh! Heh… heh-CHOO! Ahh…ahh ! Ah-CHOO! Y-You didn’t know,” Husk finally manages to finish, rubbing his nose with the back of his wrist. Angel sighs, biting his lip. 

“I knew,” he mutters, looking angry with himself. “Sort of at least. I was just thoughtless. It won’t happen again, I promise. Fuck Husk, I’m so, so sorry, you’re just so…private about this stuff, sometimes I forget.”

Husk gives a small, sheepish smile, his cheeks turning a little red. 

“I ah. I jus’ don’t wandt to worry you. Plus idt’s…embarrassing.”

“It isn’t,” Angel insists, and upon seeing Husk raise his eyebrows doubtfully, he shakes his head a little. “I mean, I know it is, for you, but it shouldn’t be. S’ just human.”

Husk shrugs a little, averting his eyes, still a bit mortified by everything that’s happened. 

“I…I should take a shower,” Angel says quietly, still looking extremely guilty. “Get all of this…stuff off of me. But I don’t…really want to leave you alone while you're…till you can breathe again. I’m worried you’ll pass out on me. Any chance you’ll let me get Charlie to come keep an eye on you?”

Husk immediately shakes his head, sucking in a sharp, panicked breath which causes another big coughing fit to overtake him. 

“Shit, okay, okay,” Angel says quickly, not wanting to make Husk’s breathing worse. “No Charlie. I know you don’t…want anyone else to see. Fuck Husk, I don’t…I don’t know what to do here. Y’ can’t get upstairs by yourself like this.”

Husk grimaces, hating that he’s put Angel in this position. 

“Elevator?” He suggests weakly, coughing a little. Angel sighs, drumming his fingers on his arm nervously. 

“I…suppose,” he relents, looking unhappy about it. “Can you get over there on your own?”

Husk nods, though he’s not 100% sure. Just the thought of standing right now, of exerting any physical energy has his lungs screaming in protest. 

“I—alright,” Angel says, gingerly hauling himself to his feet and backing up, putting even more space between them. “I’ll use the stairs and I’ll meet you in the hallway, okay? I—I’m sorry again Husk, really.” 

Fuck, this sucks . Husk wants so badly to kiss the stupid guilty expression off of his boyfriend's face and assure him that it’s all alright. He forces himself to nod, trying for a reassuring smile. 

“S’ really okay,” he wheezes, pausing again to sneeze a few times. They leave him breathless and panting, his whole body trembling a little. This does nothing to assuage Angel’s worry, the other man’s face looking unbelievably anxious. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, his voice clipped and tight. “I’ll see you in just a second. Don’t…die on me, yeah?”

Husk gives a shaky thumbs up, still coughing, and Angel reluctantly tears himself away, hurrying up the stairs towards their rooms. Husk, with a shaky exhale, drags himself into a standing position and makes himself put one foot in front of the other, the room tilting a little around him. He manages to make it into the elevator, and uses the handrails inside to hold himself up on trembling legs, barely keeping himself upright as more sneezes wrack his frame. 

The doors ding, and Husk stumbles out into the hallway, another small fit giving suddenly overtaking him.

“Ehh… ehh-choo! Heh-chuh! Huh …huh-choo! Hruh-shoo! Shoo! Ahh… Ah-CHOO!”

The last one is strong, and it sends him stumbling a little bit. The room slants dangerously, and he’s sure he’s about to hit the floor when four pairs of arms come around. He immediately starts sneezing again, uncontrollably, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he doesn’t have any way to cover. 

“Sorry Whiskers,” he hears Angel murmur. “Figured you’d rather be sneezy than have a concussion. Hang tight.”

Angel scoops him up like a little kid, and Husk, unable to protest, continues sneezing weakly into his wrist, trying his best to angle them away from Angel. This might be his worst nightmare. 

Angel carries Husk to his room, heading straight into the bathroom and depositing a still sneezing Husk onto the ledge of the tub. Angel hurriedly goes to turn on the shower and remains there, staying far away from Husk. 

The sneezing finally dies down, and Husk gives a shuddery exhale, his chest rattling like broken china. He can’t help scratching at his arms and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Try not to do that sweetie,” Angel says softly, biting his lip. “Fuck, I don’t think you can wait for me to finish, we need to get all that pollen off of you now. You need to breathe. ”

As if just the mere mention of pollen can set him off, Husk ducks his head, sneezing softly into his shoulder.

“Heh-choo! Ehh-tchoo! Huh-shuh!” He gives a weak, pathetic sounding cough, unable to keep from whimpering a little. 

“Husk can we…can we get in the shower together?” Angel asks hesitantly, his cheeks turning a bit pink. “We can um. Keep our underwear on of course, I just. I really wanna get you clean. So you can breathe. And if you go first I’ll just set you off again when you get out.”

Husk, struggling for air, just nods, finding his desire to get the pollen off outweighs the embarrassment of a shower with Angel. He tries to stand, to make his way over, but is forced to sit back down almost immediately, sharp pain shooting through his chest as his lungs protest. 

“Does it hurt?” Angel asks, wincing, already knowing the answer.

“I jus’ need a second,” Husk manages, coughing again, slipping his overalls off his shoulders with shaky hands. Normally, undressing in front of his boyfriend would have him blushing like crazy out of self consciousness. But right now he’s so damn exhausted he can’t even muster that. Even lifting his feet to let his slacks slide off leaves him winded, and he grips the edge of the tub, knuckles white, bracing himself to try standing again.

“I…can I help you?” Angel asks quietly, looking a bit like a deer caught in headlights, torn between wanting to assist, while refraining from coming any closer. Husk, thinking for a moment, gives a defeated little nod. The sooner he gets in the shower the sooner his symptoms will start to abate, even if they have to get worse for a second to make that happen. 

Angel scurries over, trying to go as quickly as possible, and helps Husk slip his shoes and slacks off before extending his arm and helping haul Husk to his feet. Husk, unable to hold his breath and risk cutting off the little bit of oxygen he is managing to get, sneezes…again. And again. And again.

“ Ehh… ehh-choo! Heh-chuh! Huh …huh-choo! Hruh-shoo! Shoo! Ehh.. eh-tchoo!”

These sneezes are soft, tiny compared to Husk’s usual ones, his lungs unable to get enough air in to really expel any irritants. As the fit dies down, he wheezes audibly, wincing.

“Fuck, we’re showering,” Angel says, scrambling, “we’re showering now .” He gets both sets of arms under Husk’s shoulders and helps--well, more drags--Husk into the shower, awkwardly depositing the other man right on the tile floor under the spray.

The relief is tangible, Husk’s chest instantly beginning to loosen. Angel, still clothed, gets soaked in the process, frustratedly pushing his now wet mop of hair out of his eyes. Husk chuckles a little at how utterly disheveled and ridiculous his boyfriend looks, standing there in his heels and gloves, half in, half out of the shower. 

“Oh shut up,” Angel mutters, scowling, pushing his hair out of his eyes again and stepping out from under the water, peeling his gloves off and beginning to undress. Husk instinctively averts his eyes, before realizing that his boyfriend is about to get in with him, so he probably doesn’t need to look away, but anything else feels impolite.

Now that the water is providing him with some relief, he feels that blushing he was waiting for finally begin, his cheeks turning pink as he takes a sharp inhale, which leads to a little cough.

He’s seen Angel in a similar state of undress before. The other man had been wearing nothing but shredded lingerie when Husk had come to help him home that night after Valentino had…well, been Valentino. But that was when Angel’s whole body was fucking mangled, and he was ill. Husk hadn’t exactly been in the mindset to admire the other man’s physique. 

But now, as a healthy, healed Angel steps into the shower in just his boxers, Husk can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He gives himself permission to glance up, and immediately scowls.

Angel, noticing this, gives him a funny look.

“What?” he asks, a bit defensive.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Husk croaks, glowering and pulling his knees into his chest, suddenly very self conscious. “It’s like you’re fucking photoshopped .”

At this, Angel bursts out laughing.

“You--you’re unbelievable, ya’ know that?” he gets out in between bouts of laughter, shaking his head a little. “You’re fuckin’ dyin’ over there an’ that’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Husk demands, glaring. “How can I not be th hh inking about th-that… ehh !...”

He trails off, Angel’s presence making the receding tickle in his nose flare to life. 

“Eh-tchoo! Heh-choo! Hahh….hah-tchoo! sniff . Ugh, sorry.” 

Angel gives him a small, endearing smile that, coupled with his nearly naked body, makes Husk’s insides turn into hot goo. 

“My turn,” he says softly, grabbing the shower head and angling the spray away from Husk and onto himself, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He looks almost ethereal that way, with the water running down his neck and shoulder and back and legs…

Annnnnd now Husk is hard. 

He brings his legs together and forces himself to look away, his face growing hot. He tries to keep his eyes pointedly trained on Angel’s feet as the other man showers, grabbing the bar of soap and lathering it in his hands. 

Angel clears his throat suddenly, and Husk looks up, finding him glancing down and looking…a bit uneasy. 

“Could you um. Maybe look anywhere else?” Angel asks, wincing a little and biting his lip. Husk blinks at him. 

“I was…trying to be polite,” he says, already blushing at the sight of Angel’s bare chest and the way his underwear are now sticking close to his skin from the water, outlining his hips and waist and—

Angel cuts his train of thought off with a frustrated sigh, biting his lip. 

“I…I know, I know you’re just…bein’ all cordial and respectful and all that other old fashioned shit you do,” he says, scowling a little, “but can you maybe just…not look at my feet?”

Husk stares at him. 

“I—okay,” Husk says, looking at Angel quizzically. “Why?”

Now it’s Angel’s turn to blush, averting his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, fiddling with the bar of soap. “I just don’t like them. I never have. I know that’s dumb.”

Husk, unable to help himself, risks a quick glance at Angel’s feet before looking up again, eyebrow raised.

“It’s super dumb,” he agrees, shooting Angel a funny smile. “But I won’t look if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Angel, still red, gives Husk a small, grateful smile, and continues to wash himself, though now, forbidden from looking down, Husk can see the other man out of the corner of his eye, and as Angel runs his own hands over his body, washing his hair, his arms, his stomach, his legs…Husk is finding it very hard to maintain control of himself. 

Angel finally finishes rinsing himself off, gazing down at Husk with a smirk. 

“Like what ya’ see Whiskers?” He grins, and Husk looks away, scowling, cheeks flaming. Angel just laughs, and readjusts the shower head so the spray is hitting Husk’s chest. The warm water feels amazing there, loosening the tightness, and Husk can’t help but let out a sigh of content, which ends in a little cough. The warm air is also doing wonders for his congestion, which he’s grateful for; unfortunately, it’s also causing a few more sneezes to slip out, the steam tickling his nose a little. 

“ihh-tchoo! choo! heh …shoo!” He sniffles a little, knuckling his red nose with the back of his wrist. When he opens his watery eyes, he finds Angel sliding down to sit beside him, offering him a little smile. 

“Hey sneezy,” he says, chuckling a little, his cheeks pink and his hair falling into his eyes. Husk blushes at the nickname, even more so as Angel hesitantly opens his arms, inviting him in. 

“I um—should we do a test run?” Angel asks sheepishly, laughing a little. Husk, longing to be close to the other man again, nods a little too eagerly, and buries his face in Angel's chest, breathing deeply—well, as deeply as he can. Angel giggles, enveloping the other man and giving him a little squeeze. 

“All better?” He asks softly, and Husk gives a happy sigh, nodding against the other man’s fur. No tickle, no irritating itch. He just smells Angel. He holds the other man a bit too tightly, savoring the moment. 

“You get so clingy when you don’t feel well,” Angel laughs, stroking the other man’s head. Husk can’t help it, he starts to purr a little, though it’s broken and wheezy sounding. 

“I’m making up for earlier,” he mumbles against Angels skin, smiling a little as this makes this other man shiver just slightly. “I wanted t’ hug you when you were bein’ all stupid and apologetic but I couldn’t.”

Angel huffs a laugh, giving a little sigh. 

“But it was my fault,” he says, his eyes dulling a bit. “I shouldn’t have been so careless.”

Husk gives an exasperated sigh, coughing a little. 

“S’ not your fault I’m allergic to everything under the fuckin’ sun,” Husk grumbles, turning away a little and sneezing again as if to prove his point. 

He turns back and finds Angel gazing at him, blushing a little. 

“Well I uh…I didn’t…I’m still sorry,” he stutters, blinking a few times.

Husk laughs, pulling Angel in close, relishing the proximity of him. 

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying this,” he says, smirking a little, seeing the other man’s face heat up.

“I wasn’t…not before,” Angel stresses, biting his lip, looking guilty as he pulls back to stare at Husk. “Before I was just…scared. I didn’t know they were that bad Husk,” he says, grimacing. “Y’ shoulda told me.”

Husk looks away, squirming a bit. 

“I…didn’t really want to…burden you with that I guess,” he says, coughing a little and wincing. Angel gazes at him affectionately, placing a gentle hand on the other man’s chest gently, frowning. 

“That’s stupid,” he says pointedly, rubbing Husk’s chest slightly. “You couldn’t ever be a burden, not t’ me.” He presses down just a bit, and Husk coughs again, taking a shuddery breath. 

“I can feel how tight it is,” Angel murmurs quietly, looking worried. 

“S’ not so bad now,” Husk croaks. “The steam helps.”

“Mm,” Angel hums slightly, still focusing on Husk’s chest, looking worried.

“Husk,” he says, eyes flicking to meet the other mans. He takes a breath, looking apprehensive, as if steeling himself for something. 

“Husk, you have to see a doctor for this,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. Husk immediately looks away, scowling. 

“I told you I don’t want to,” he growls, knowing he sounds childish but not really caring. Just the mention of the doctor has his ears ringing, his breathing becoming a bit erratic. 

Angel huffs, and Husk can tell he’s getting pissed.

“Why the hell not?!” He exclaims, crossing his arms. “Husk, you could barley breathe. They have inhalers, allergy shots, we could get you help—“

“I’m not going to the doctor!” Husk half shouts back, the anxiety and the yelling making his throat close up again, and he begins to cough, turning away to hack into his elbow. Angel quiets instantly, bringing a hand up to rub Husk’s back. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, looking pained that he can’t do more to help. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing. But Husk, this is…serious. What if this happens when we aren’t at home? When I can’t just toss ya’ in the shower? I need…” He trails off, letting air out of his cheeks slowly. “I need you to take care of yourself. For me , if not for you. I’m—I’m worried about you.”

Husk glances at Angel and immediately wishes he hasn’t. The other man’s expression is absolutely heart wrenching, and Husk curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the wall in defeat, closing his eyes a little and sighing…which ends in a cough. 

“Fuck you,” he says half heartedly once the fit dies down, and Angel gives him a small, sheepish smile. 

“Talk to me,” the other man says softly, taking Husks hand under the warm spray. “Why don’t you wanna go?”

Husk meets his eyes, and wills the ringing in his ears to die down. 

“When my mom got sick,” he begins, chewing on his bottom lip, “we were in the hospital…all the time. I fucking hated it there. She was…all hooked up to these tubes an’…she’d lost all her hair. She didn’t even look like her anymore. She got all these awful, painful treatments that were supposed to make her better but they—none of them worked.” His voice breaks a little bit, and he sniffles, knowing that crying will just make his symptoms worse. He forces himself to  continue.

“And then, right after she died, I got drafted. And I was in all those makeshift hospitals they had overseas all the time. Sometimes for me, but most of the time it was to see my friends, one last time, before they—“

He takes a shuddery breath, curling inward on himself. Angel doesn’t say anything, just squeezes his hand tightly. Husk squeezes back. 

“After that I just…never wanted to be back in places like that. The lights, the smell, it all just reminds me of her, of them. The last time I went was to get my epi-pen, and I—I had a fuckin’ panic attack in the god damn waiting room.”

He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. What’s Angel going to think, the big tough former overlord who can’t even go to urgent care? 

But Angel just gently takes both of Husk’s hands in his own, carefully tilting Husk’s chin so he’s looking at the other man.  

“I’m sorry you had t’ go through that Husk,” he says softly, his expression pained. “But thank you for telling me. I know that kinda stuff ain’t easy.”

Husk averts his eyes, knowing if he keeps looking at Angel, at his sweet, understanding and compassionate face, he will cry. 

“How about this?” Angel suggests, tracing circles on Husk’s knuckles. “What if I have a doctor come here? Do a house call? They could see ya’ right in your room, and I could be there with you.” 

Husk glances up. 

“I…they still do that?”

Angel smiles and shrugs a little. 

“I think so,” he says. “An’ even if they don’t I bet Cha-Cha could get ‘em’ to make an exception. She is the princess. I’m sure we can work somethin’ out.”

Husk thinks for a moment. 

“I don’t…I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble,” he says quietly, feeling small. Angel rolls his eyes good-naturedly, smiling. 

“S’ not any trouble Whiskers,” he says. “I’ll make the call and take care of it, it’ll take me 5 minutes tops, promise. That sound okay?”

Husk sighs, reluctant, but nods. 

“That…does sound better,” he concedes, giving Angel’s fingers a squeeze. “I…thank you.” 

“Course,” Angel says, grinning, planting a small sudden kiss on Husk’s cheek, making him flush. “You’re mine now. S’ my job ta’ take good care of ya’.” 

Husk chuckles, but it’s cut off by a small sneezing fit, and he ducks his head down between his legs, too tired to bother fully turning away. 

“ Ehh… ehhshuh! Haahh… Hahshoo! Isshuh! Huh… Hruhshuh! Mmm, sorry,” he sniffles, coughing a bit. Angel has gone very still beside him, his breathing becoming a bit shallow. Husk can relate. He tries to give Angel a smile, showing him that he doesn’t need to feel any embarrassment. 

“W-we um. We need to get you scrubbed off too,” Angel says a bit breathlessly, clearing his throat and averting his eyes. Husk doesn’t miss the way the other man pulls his own legs in a bit closer together. 

Husk can’t help it, he gives him a little kiss on the forehead, which just makes Angel flush even more. 

“Christ Husk,” he laughs nervously, eyes flicking around. “You can’t… do shit like that when we’re—practically naked like this.” 

Husk just grins, planting another little kiss on Angel’s shoulder, then trailing up to his collar bone. 

“O-okay!” Angel exclaims, giggling a little and pulling away. “Noooo, nothing like that right now. Not until your breathing is okay. Stop being a horny piece of shit and let’s get you clean.”

Husk frowns a little, rolling his eyes, but compiles, stopping. Angel reaches for the bar of soap and lathers it in his hands, bringing them up to Husk’s scalp.

“I can do it myself,” Husk mutters, blushing a little. Angel just smiles and shrugs. 

“I know. But you could let me.”

Husk gives him a funny look, but relents, turning to give Angel access to his neck and shoulders and back. Angels fingers massaging his scalp feels heavenly, and Husk applauds himself for allowing the other man to do this. 

As Angel’s hands reach his back, they pause, and Husk glances over his shoulder. 

“You’ve um. You’ve got some red patches back here Whiskers,” Angel murmurs, looking a bit concerned. Husk feels himself flush. He’d forgotten. 

“They’re uh. Just hives,” he says quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. “Jus’, something that happens sometimes. They should go away on their own in a few hours.” 

“They look painful,” Angel says, wincing a bit. “Are they…is it okay for me to touch them?”

“Mhm,” Husk says softly, his face still a bit red. “Cleaning em’ will actually help. Just uh, be kinda gentle.” 

He feels Angel nod, and begin to work his way down Husk’s back, being extra tender as promised. As he does so, Husk can’t help it, he starts purring again, the motion feeling so nice on his raw, sensitive skin. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, sort of wishing he could evaporate on the spot.

“Don’t be,” Angel replies instantly, continuing the soothing circular motions on Husk’s back.

Husk lets out a little shudder. This moment is so intimate, so vulnerable; he never thought he’d allow anyone to do anything like this with him, for him. But here was Angel. Doing it. 

Angel finishes Husks back, then he gently helps Husk turn around and starts on his chest. Husk gives a happy sigh as this loosens some of the tension there. As Angel’s hands go lower, reaching his stomach and hips, the other man’s cheeks go a little pink and he pointedly avoids Husk’s eyes, letting a slow breath out through his cheeks. 

Husk, fixated on the other man, doesn’t register his nose tickling a little until he lets out a tiny gasp, turning his head quickly as the build up teases him.

“ Ehhh…heh…hahh !…Ha-tchoo! Ahh …Ah-tchoo! snniff . Mm, sorry,” he mutters, blinking his still slightly puffy eyes. When he looks up, he finds Angel staring at him, looking a bit frozen, his hands still grazing Husk’s hips. Husk can’t help but smirk. 

“Whose the horny piece of shit now?” He bites, earning him a fierce blush from his boyfriend.

“Leave me alone,” Angel says, covering his face with one pair of hands while the others continue washing. Husk laughs, unable to fathom how someone can look this sexy and this adorable at the same time. 

“You’re real cute when you blush kid,” he teases, earning him a tiny pinch on the arm. 

“Yeah, we’ll so r’ you,” Angel mumbles from behind his hands. “Especially when you're all droopy and wet and pitiful looking.”

Husk scowls at that, which just makes Angel coo. 

“Ohmygod, make that face again while you're all wet,” he gushes, his eyes growing wide. “It was the sweetest thing. Is my wittle man angy?” He teases, using the same voice he uses for Fat Nuggets. 

Husks scowl deepens, which just makes Angel squeal with delight, gently taking Husks arms and massaging them with soap. 

“You’re the worst,” Husk grumbles, rubbing his eyes a little. Angel just hums happily, moving on to the last remaining arm. 

“Don’t I know it,” he says cheekily, grinning and helping Husk begin to rinse the soap out of his fur. 

When they finish, Angel deposits the bar of soap on the shower floor beside them, smiling. 

“All done,” he says softly, tucking a wet strand of hair behind Husk’s ear. “You wanna get out and dry off?”

Husk chews his lip, and gives a small shake of his head.

“Could we actually maybe…stay here for a bit?” He requests shyly. “I mean, I guess you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to. But I might um. Sit here for a little while. The heat and the steam feel really good. They’re helping a lot.”

Angel smirks a little.

“I think you just wanna continue seeing me without clothes,” he flirts, brushing hair out of his eyes. Husk chuckles, grinning. 

“That is also a definite bonus,” he admits, flushing a little. “But like I said, you seriously don’t have to say. M’ feelin’ a lot better.”

Angel, in response, just scoots himself in closer to Husk so that they are shoulder to shoulder, both under the warm spray, and leans his head against Husk’s. 

“We can hang in here as long as you want Whiskers,” he says, giving a contented sigh. “Nowhere else I'd rather be.” 

[TheCakeIsAlive]

These are lovely. Thank you so much for sharing! You've got their voices so spot on!   

[coolbeans18]

On 6/13/2024 at 5:04 PM, TheCakeIsAlive said:

These are lovely. Thank you so much for sharing! You've got their voices so spot on!   

This is such a great compliment Tysm!!

[lillian]

I’m not familiar with the show but I love your writing! 

[coolbeans18]

On 6/15/2024 at 12:28 AM, lillian said:

I’m not familiar with the show but I love your writing! 

Show is awesome, highly recommend, but if you don’t watch it, glad you’re here enjoying the fluff😁

[coolbeans18]

 

Chapter 3- The Blizzard (Part 1)

This is the first half of a 2 partner, then regular one shots will resume:) Not a ton of sneezing in this one but still a good sickfic and leads into / foreshadows more sneezes!! Enjoy! 

Husk’s POV

It was cold. No, cold wasn’t the right answer. It was fucking freezing. Downright frigid. When Husk was alive he always associated hell with heat and fire. That turned out to be partly true. But the weather in Hell wasn’t always scorching; at night time it was often cool, something Husk usually enjoyed…maybe that’s why many of Hell’s patrons preferred to be night owls. Though Husk suspected that like himself, many of his fellow sinners were that way before getting sent here. 

However, sometimes, with the right combination of all things terrible, it could get below freezing, and occasionally, one of the regular storms that were constantly blowing through became a blizzard. 

Hell operated in extreme's. So when it snowed, it wasn’t the “get out and build snowmen and have snowball fights” type of snow. It was the “board the windows up and pray you don’t freeze to death,” kind of snow. 

Normally, Husk didn’t mind. Blizzards like these were one of the few times he enjoyed his fur; it kept him nice and warm, and seeing as most travel and business were forced to stop during the storms, Husk typically got to enjoy a few days off, waiting out the weather without worrying about any errands from Alastor. 

But this blizzard was not like past ones. This one, Husk was having a hard time enjoying, given that his boyfriend was somewhere out in it.  

The blizzards in Hell, like the storms, always came out of nowhere. The sky would begin to turn an eerie, apocalyptic shade of gray and the temperature would plummet, as if someone were sucking all the warmth from the atmosphere. In the span of five minutes, blistering heat could turn into an icy, billowing, piercing, sleeting nightmare.

When it had begun, Husk had immediately texted Angel, worried he’d end up stuck at Valentino’s, unable to get anywhere until the storm ended. Angel, thank god, had answered him immediately, telling him not to worry. Apparently, he’d been in between shoots when the storm had started and had scurried off before Val could come looking for him. He was getting a ride home from a work friend who lived near the hotel. 

 This had pacified Husk’s worry for the time being…an hour ago. Now, as the evening grew darker, and the night grew colder, Husk began pacing. It was a ten minute drive from the studio to the hotel, and even in wall to wall traffic, it had never taken more than a half hour. Something was wrong. 

Husk's eyes flicked nervously around the room. Charlie, Vaggie, Nifty and Alastor were all busy making preparations to keep the hotel functioning during the storm. Stocking firewood, boarding the windows, locating extra blankets and coats, making sure the pantry was stocked. Husk knows he should be helping but he can’t focus. Not to mention that the anxiety in his chest is hurting his breathing as it is, and he doesn’t fancy the idea of another potential asthma attack only a week after the previous one. 

One by one, the tasks are accomplished, the proper preparations made, and soon, the other members are also left with nothing to do but wait. 

Charlie stands by the front door, anxiously fiddling with a coil they typically use to secure it and keep it from blowing open during storms like these. It’s the last thing on the list left to do, but she hesitates. Husk knows she’ll never lock the place down without Angel inside. The anxious look on her face, on Vaggie’s, on Niffy’s; they match Husk’s own. Even Alastor looks on edge, though Husk can’t imagine it’s for the same reason. 

Finally, he lets out a low growl, and stands. 

“I’m going to look for him,” he announces, grabbing his ratty winter coat and heading for the door. 

“Husk, you can’t go out there,” Vaggie protests, though it’s a bit half hearted, as if she knows it’s pointless. 

“Yeah Husk,” Charlie says, moving to come between him and the door. Her eyes meet Husks, and they stare at each other for a moment. Charlie’s gaze is full of concern, Husk’s determination. He narrows his eyes at the Princess, not wanting to fight but knowing he will move her out of the way if he has too. Finally, Charlie sighs. 

“Why don’t we at least come with you—“

“You can’t fly,” Husk cuts her off, skirting around her. “Sides’, we shouldn’t send more than one person after him. We just risk more people getting stuck out there.” 

He moves to grab the door handle, but a firm hand on his arm stops him. 

“ No ,” Charlie says firmly, and as Husk turns to argue, the words die in his throat. 

Charlie’s eyes have begun to glow bright red and tiny horns pierce through the top of her blonde head. Her teeth grow sharp and her grip on Husk is strong, much stronger than Husk has ever experienced from the other girl before. He swallows, able to feel the power radiating off of her. This is not a battle he will win.

“I can’t just leave him out there Charlie,” Husk pleads, his voice hoarse with worry. Charlie’s demon form immediately recedes as his voice cracks, and she’s back to being her usual, sweet, caring, concerned self. 

“We won’t,” she promises him, eyes growing soft. “But you cannot go out there alone. It isn’t safe. Vaggie…will go with you.” She takes a breath, as if the words pain her to say, but turns to look at her girlfriend.

Vaggie, looking surprised, quickly crosses the room and comes to take Charlie’s hand.

“I… can fly,” she says slowly, meeting Husk’s eyes. “We could have two pairs of eyes searching for him at once.”

“You cannot split up,” Charlie stresses, biting her lip and looking at both of them. “I want Angel home safely but I need you both to promise me that you…that you’ll take care of each other, first and foremost.”

Her grip tightens on Vaggie’s hand, and she stares at Husk with an intensity he rarely sees. He knows this later message is more meant for him. A promise that Husk will look out for her partner. Husk nods, hoping his eyes convey just how seriously he means it. 

Vaggie, watching the exchange, gently steps between Husk and Charlie, cupping her girlfriend's cheek. 

“I promise we will all come back to you safely,” she murmurs softly, pulling Charlie into a brief embrace. Charlie returns it, wrapping her arms tightly around Vaggie’s shoulders and giving a shaky exhale. Husk can tell she’s trying not to cry. 

“Thank you both,” he says gruffly, the emotional intimacy making him a little uncomfortable, but he means it sincerely.

Vaggie gives him a small smile. 

“You don’t have to thank us,” she says, grabbing her own coat. “He’s our friend. We’re going to get him back here safely.”

The two of them head for the door, Vaggie giving Charlie one last kiss on the cheek before she and Husk brace themselves to face the cold wind. They open the door together, the freezing air instantly cutting deep into their skin like a knife. Husk winces, the biting frost filling his already tight lungs, making it a bit painful to breathe. He instinctively grabs the other girl's arm, wanting to hold them both steady. Together, they manage to wrestle the doors shut again, using their combined weight to push against the wind. 

As the lobby door closes, it leaves the two of them in near total darkness, the street lamps having gone out along with the power just moments ago.  Once outside, Husk nearly stumbles on the icy steps, Vaggie struggling to keep them both upright. The two look out into the night and snow and sleet swirl around them in a freezing barrage. Vaggie, squinting out into the storm, turns to Husk, a determined look on her face. 

“Stay close to me!” She shouts over the wind. “We’ll retrace his usual path to work! If we stay with the wind we should be okay!” 

Husk nods, teeth already chattering, but squaring his shoulders and unfurling his wings, feeling the wind fill them instantly. At least take off will be easy. 

“Vaggie!” He shouts, before they both take off. His friend looks over at him. 

“I…I’ve got your back!” Husk calls, biting his lip. “M’ not gonna let anything happen to you!”

At that, Vaggie gives him a genuine, real smile, one he rarely sees anyone but Charlie elicit. 

“Ditto!” She shouts back, smiling despite the cold, and together, the two take off into the storm.

Angel’s POV

Angel doesn’t know what time it is when he finally manages to make it home. Too late, that much he knows. Husk and the others are probably worried sick. 

They’d made it about 5 minutes from the studio in Alice’s car when traffic had stopped short, and it was announced over the radio that the roads were now closed. 

Most people in Hell just ignored these warnings; it wasn’t like there were any cops to arrest them for rule breaking. But in Angel’s case, unfortunately there was a tree down just two blocks ahead, totally blocking the one way street. Alice had opted to go back to the studio, somewhere Angel knew he couldn’t return to. He’d much rather brave the storm and risk hypothermia than spend the next however many days (or weeks; sometimes these storms lasted forever) trapped with Val. 

He wanted to text Husk and let him know his whereabouts but his phone had died and the power was out.

Alice had offered to walk the whole way with him, but he’d turned her down and sent her on her way. He didn’t want to put her in any danger.

Wrapping his thin stripped suit jacket around himself as tightly as he could, Angel had begun the trek back. The walk usually took him 30 minutes, but with the wind and sleet and snow fighting against him it ended up being more like an hour. At least he didn’t have to deal with onlookers. No one could see more than 3 feet in front of them in this weather and he was one of the few people crazy enough to be outside in this shit storm anyway. 

Trudging as the snow piled up to his calves, he instantly began to shiver, his teeth chattering something awful. The wind was the worst part; it bit at him like an animal, tearing at his clothes and exposed skin, stinging. With his body trembling and tears streaking down his cheeks from the strong winds, he put his head down and pushed on. The thought of Husk, at home, probably worried out of his mind, kept him going, even as the storm somehow grew worse, the howling wind and icy streets making it hard to even stay upright. 

About halfway through the journey, as was typical for him whenever he was cold, he started to sneeze. He didn’t know why this happened; maybe his sinuses just hated the cool air or maybe he really did just have such a shit immune system that he could catch cold by just beingcold; it was Hell after all, maybe the earthly rules about contracting illnesses didn’t apply. Whatever the reason, it didn’t make the predicament any less annoying.

“ ehh …ehh-shuu! ehhshu!” 

Angel shook his head a little, shuddering. Fuck, it was freezing. 

The tiny fits continued, and by the time Angel finally made it back, his nose and cheeks were flushed bright right, the rest of his body and his lips having taken on an almost bluish hue. Using his last bit of energy, he muscled the door open; thankful they hadn’t locked them down yet, and using his back, pressed it shut behind him with a thud. He lets out a sigh of relief at the instant warmth that engulfs him once he’s inside.

Before he can even take in his surroundings, a flying mess of blonde hair and red pajamas all but tackles him in a hug. 

“Angel, oh my god, thank goodness you’re safe!” Charlie cries, her arms tightening around the other man’s neck in a choke hold. Angel coughs a little, and Charlie loosens her grip, pulling away to meet his eyes. 

“Fuck Angel, you’re freezing!” She exclaims, taking in the bluish hue of his lips and the red tint of his nose. He’s still shivering terribly, goosebumps running all along his skin as Charlie quickly ushers him into the sitting room and forces him down in front of the fire. Angel reaches for the flames immediately, shuddering as their warmth slowly thaws his ice cold skin. As Charlie brings him a blanket and drapes it around his shoulders, he ducks into his wrist with three tiny, exhausted sneezes.  

“ heh …hetchu! heh-tchx! hah …hah-tchu! Ugh, s’cuse mbe,” he shivers, rubbing his own shoulders for warmth, as Husk normally would. He stiffens then, suddenly becoming very aware of his boyfriend's absence.

“Ch-Charlie w-where’s Husk?” He demands, voice still shaking with chills. He sees the princesses face fall, and she takes a deep breath and chews her lip, eyes flickering around wildly. 

“Charlie?” Angel says again, now beginning to stand, panicking slightly. 

“Sit” Charlie says, gently taking his arm and joining him on the floor beside the fire, easing them both back down. Angel, reluctantly, lets her do this, his eyes wide with worry. Charlie gives his arm a small squeeze, letting out a slow breath. 

“Husk and Vaggie went out looking for you,” she says quietly, trying to sound calm but her tone couldn’t matter less. Angel is on his feet in an instant, practically running towards the door. Charlie manages to catch up to him and stops him, putting her hands on his shoulders. 

“Angel, calm down,” she says firmly, but this only infuriates him more. 

“Calm down?!” He shouts, though it’s a bid undermined by his chattering teeth. “You should’ve told them to s-s-stay put! They can’t be out f-flying in this!”

Charlie winces, looking extremely pained, and Angel forces himself to take a deep breath, tamping down on his anger. Charlie defiantly didn’t make this decision on her own. It was likely Husk who demanded going after Angel, the idiot. 

“I just d-don’t understand how having th-three people out in th-th-that shit storm is b-better than one,” Angel says flatly, fighting to keep his voice even. 

“You weren't answering your texts!” Charlie exclaims, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “You told us you were on your way and then never showed. We thought something had happened to you!” 

Angel heaves a sigh, slumping down on the floor beside the couch, trembling. He fists his hands in his hair and tries to calm himself down. 

“My ph-phone died and the road got b-blocked so I had to w-w-walk,” he manages to get out, voice shaking. 

Slowly, Charlie comes to sit beside him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

“I know how you feel,” she says softly, her voice strained. “I… I suggested Vaggie go with Husk. I thought you’d all be safer in numbers. And last time Husk left here alone to come get you, you both came back in such rough shape, I—I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have let either of them go—“

Her voice breaks, and Angel realizes she’s crying. He wants to slap himself for yelling at her; how could he be so fucking foolish and selfish? Vaggie was Charlie’s partner and Husk was her friend. She was probably just as worried as he was, if not more so. He gently wraps and arm around her, trying to provide what little comfort he can. 

“M’ sorry fa’ yellin’, that was stupid,” he apologizes sincerely, pulling the princess in close. “You did what you thought was right.”

Charlie sniffles, scrubbing her eyes with her wrist. 

“I didn’t want to abandon you out there,” she chokes out, “but it’s been an hour and neither of them are back yet, and I feel like it’s my fault—“

Angel cuts her off by pulling her into a hug. 

“It’s not,” he says forcefully, awkwardly patting Charlie’s head. He isn’t used to physical intimacy that isn’t sexual…he’s not sure if he’s doing this right. He forces himself to try and sound somewhat calm.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” he says, pulling back gently and fumbling for his phone. “Text them both and tell them I’m home.”

Charlie, taking a shaky breath, nods, looking away and wringing her hands. Outside, the wind howls against the windows, and Angel resists the urge to cover his ears as the sound seems to vibrate through his whole body—similar to thunder, though not as bad. Charlie pulls out her phone to text their friends, then curses, realizing that she has no service. The power lines must all be down or frozen. Charlie’s face goes white, and Angel tries to reassure her. 

“I’m—I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, though even in his own ears it sounds half-hearted as fuck. “They’ll come back once they realize I’m not out there.”

Charlie doesn’t answer, just looks away, her mouth drawn in a thin line, her face resembling a ghost’s. Angel doesn’t know what more he can say or do. His nose, apparently unable to understand that they have enough problems at the moment, starts to tickle again, and he ducks away with a small fit of stifled sneezes. 

“ Heh …hetch! Ihtch! Chx! Chx! Ehtgx!”

Charlie, glances at him sparingly, her face still drawn. 

“You should go warm up by the fire,” she murmurs, tossing Angel the blanket he’d been wrapped in before. Angel, not wanting her to have one more person to worry about, does as he’s told, trying to get his shivering to die down.

Minutes tick by and the two sit in silence, feeling useless. Angel sits there stewing, eyebrows drawn, trying to think of what to do.

Suddenly, he stands, abruptly, the blanket falling to the ground at his feet. How did he not think of this instantly? 

“Alastor!” He shouts, wincing as the action grates a bit on his throat. It’s starting to feel a little sore. “Alastor, get down here!”

To their right, the air grows fuzzy with static, seeming to glitch and buzz a little.

With a tiny ‘pop’ the Radio Demon materializes, his eyes narrow and his grin imposing. 

“You rang ?” He says sarcastically, sounding off put and a bit insulted. Angel doesn’t care.

“Can’t you summon Husk? From anywhere, at any time?”

At this, Charlie sits up straight, her eyes growing wide. 

“Oh god, how did I not think of that? Alastor, I need you to summon Husk back to the hotel. He and Vaggie are out there in the storm right now looking for Angel. We need a way to call them back.”

Alastor raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused. Angel wants to strangle him. 

“Is this your wish Princess?” He says, looking pointedly at Charlie. “If it is, then gladly, but I should point out that if I do this, it may separate the two of them, leaving your beloved Vaggie out in the cold alone.”

Angel wants to scream. He settles for kicking the couch in frustration. 

“Can’t you just bring them both somehow?” He snaps, whirling on Al. “Aren’t you overlords good for anything ?” 

Charlie, seeing Alastor’s smile twist into a much more sinister looking grin, gets up to stand between the two of them. 

“Angel, stop, that’s not helping. Alastor, summon Husk. I’m calling my dad. He can portal here in two seconds and once we have Husk, he can tell us where to portal too and get Vaggie.”

She grabs her phone to place the call, then actually hurls it against the wall in frustration when she realizes she still has no service. 

“Okay,” she says, looking like she’s starting to hyperventilate a bit. “Okay, okay, we can’t panic here. Fuck, I need to think!” 

“Summon Husk and then I’ll go after Vaggie myself,” Angel demands, unable to stand sitting here and doing nothing. 

“Angel, no, I’m not sending anyone else back out there!” Charlie argues, clenching her fists at her side. 

“Well then what the hell are we supposed to do?!” He fires back angrily, feeling his stomach knotting with anxiety. 

“I don’t know! Just give me a minute to think this through—“

“We don’t have time! For all we know they’re both out there freezing to death!”

“You think I don’t know that? That’s why I’m trying to think about this carefully, separating them might kill one of them—“

Just then, the lobby doors swing open, and a shivering Vaggie comes stumbling inside. The wind is much stronger now than it was on Angel’s way home, and Vaggie struggles to shut the large double doors on her own. Charlie and Angel instantly run to help her, Angel shouting at Alastor over his shoulder to summon Husk now . Alastor, the fucking bastard, hesitates, as if he’s thinking about it. Angel knows it’s only because the overlord didn’t like being ordered around by someone he views as beneath him,  This makes Angel seethe with rage. 

“Oh thank god,” Charlie breathes, instantly wrapping Vaggie in her arms. “Fuck, that was so stupid, I shouldn’t have sent you out there, I’m never doing that again, why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“Charlie!” Vaggie cuts her girlfriend off sharply, pulling back and casting a worried glance at Angel. 

“Husk and I got separated. Something was wrong with him, he started veering off our course and then the wind split us up. I didn’t know what to do, I came back here as fast as I could—“

“Summon him, NOW!” Angel screams at Alastor, never having been so enraged at someone in his life. 

“Alastor, do it,” Charlie says firmly, her eyes beginning to glow and her demon form swirling to life. 

Alastor’s sighs, and with a roll of his eyes, waves his hand and a black hole appears in the center of the room, Husk’s form beginning to materialize in the center of it. 

Angel lets out a strangled cry of relief, but it’s short lived as Husk’s form solidified and Angel sees that something is very, very wrong. 

Husk appears on the floor, curled into a tiny ball, coughing like crazy. His eyes are screwed shut in pain, and he lets out a little whimper, shivering intensely. 

Angel is at his side in an instant, putting a hand on the other man’s back. Husk flinches initially, still not seeming to register where he is. 

“Husk, what’s wrong?” Angel whispers, his voice panicked. At the sound of his voice, Husk opens his eyes, letting out a tiny gasp. 

“Angel,” he croaks, but is immediately cut off by the coughing again, clutching at his chest in pain. Angel knows enough to recognize that this is an asthma attack, but something about this one seems different than the last. Husk’s whole body is tensed up, the veins in his neck straining so much that they’re visible even through his fur. His coughing is rapidly dying off, which would normally be a good thing, but his chest continues to heave and palpitate, with no sound coming out. There’s also no wheezing, as if there is no longer enough air for Husk to make any sounds at all. 

“Fuck,” Angel says, his own breathing becoming labored. “Oh fuck, I don’t think he’s breathing. He’s not breathing!”

Charlie is there beside him, on her knees, her eyes wide with worry. 

“Is he hurt?” She asks, searching his body for any wounds. Before Angel can answer, 

Vaggie is shaking her head. 

“No,” she says, her voice clamped and cold. “No Charlie, I think he’s having an asthma attack. A friend of mine had one once. Fuck, this is bad. I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Angel blurts, dread pooling in his stomach. “This isn’t like the other one, he’s not getting any air.”

“The other one?” Charlie asks incredulously. “This has happened before?”

Angel’s eyes flick briefly to Alastor, knowing Husk definitely doesn’t want his boss to know about this affliction. It’s a little late for that. 

“He’s always had it,” Angel says, his voice rushed and panicked. “But it’s never been like this before. He needs to get to the fucking hospital!”

Husk’s face and lips were starting to turn blue, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Angel has never been so scared in his life. 

Then, like the literal angel that he is, Lucifer appears. He steps through a portal casually, brushing some lint off of his coat absentmindedly. 

“Sorry I’m late Cha-Cha, I got held up, but I wanted to check on you, how is everyone…”

He trails off, upon seeing his daughter crouched on the floor next to her friend who appears to be dying. 

“Dad,” Charlie cries out in relief. “Husk’s having an asthma attack, we don’t think he can breathe!”

“Please, help him,” Angel chokes out, and he realizes crying. He’s never felt so fucking helpless.

Lucifer blinks, then jumps into action, immediately opening a second portal. 

“Carry him through,” he tells Angel. “It’ll plant you in the hospital. I’ll be right behind you to make sure he gets the right treatment. This isn’t something I can fix, he needs medicine.”

Angel doesn’t hesitate. With Charlie’s assistance he scoops Husk up into his arms and hurries through the portal. It’s a little disorienting at first, making his mouth taste like salt and his skin tingle. But sure enough, just as Lucifer promised, he lands directly in the hospital waiting room. 

There are no other patients inside, and the nurse at the front desk looks up at them sleepily. 

“We’re closed,” she says, sounding mildly annoyed. “Because of the storm?” 

Angel opens his mouth to protest but Lucifer is by his side before he can say anything. 

“Look at me,” the shorter man says evenly, unfurling his wings in a show of his mighty power. “Do you know who I am? Get this man on a gurney and fetch the best damn doctor you have. Now!”

The nurse scrambles to her feet, immediately reaching for the intercom. 

“Paging Dr. Fentali to the waiting room,” she says in a wavering voice. Then she hollers at another nurse behind her to fetch the stretcher. Angel watches all of this in a blur, the world around him seeming to move in slow motion. In his arms, Husk has lost consciousness, his body limp, save for his chest which still hitches with silent, erratic, false breaths. His lips, his eyelids, and his fingertips have all turned blue as he convulses, and Angel puts a shaking hand on the other man’s chest, willing it to stop. 

He watches with a blank stare as Husk is pulled from his arms and loaded onto the stretcher. He vaguely registers Charlie’s hands on his shoulders, telling him it will all be alright. Her voice feels far away. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes.  Minutes? Hours? He and his friends all sit in the cold, empty waiting room. The flickering fluorescent lights cast this waxy, off-white glare over everything and Angel gets what Husk meant about hating these places; he feels sick.

The worry in the air is palpable. Charlie won’t stop pacing, Vaggie is biting her nails down to the quick, and Nifty, who joined them a bit later, is rocking back and forth in her chair nonstop. Even Alastor is beginning to look…displeased, as the minutes tick by. Probably concerned about losing his greatest asset, Angel thinks bitterly. 

Angel’s own condition is not exactly improving. He continues sneezing and sniffling as the night wears on. Charlie offers him things in an attempt to help; some medicine, her coat, some tea. Angel just shakes his head, and continues staring straight ahead, his expression empty, disassociating. If he starts thinking too long about anything—about what he’ll do if Husk doesn’t get help in time, about what his life would be like without the other man in it—he can sense the crushing, debilitating despair poking at the edges of his consciousness, a feeling that he knows would swallow him whole and be forever inescapable.

So he tries to focus on not feeling anything at all. Letting the emptiness fill him, letting his mind become nothing. No thoughts, no emotions, no anything.

He drifts there, in the space between asleep and awake, not really perceiving anything at all. 

After what feels like an eternity, the sound of the nurse's footsteps echo faintly in his ringing ears. Painfully, like pulling teeth, he drags his mind out of its hole and forces himself back into the world. Charlie, Vaggie and Nifty are already on their feet, crowding her. Lucifer and Alastor stand as well, each eyeing the lady warily. The nurse quiets the three girls with a stern look, then her eyes roam each person's face, searching. 

“Which one of you is Angel?” She asks. 

At the sound of his own name, Angel’s body seems to jolt back into reality, and he stands up straight, like a man possessed. 

“I—that’s me,” he breathes, his voice cracking a bit. The nurse gives him a small smile. 

“He’s awake,” she says, and everything Angel was holding at bay comes rushing in, all the anxiety and fear and relief and hope and prayers. His body trembles with the weight of the nurse's words, and Vaggie is forced to grab his arm to keep him upright as his knees buckle slightly. Husk is alive. He’s alive and awake and here . 

“He’s asking for you,” the nurse informs him, nodding at Angel and gesturing for him to follow her. Angel does as she says, forcing his shaking legs to move. Vaggie keeps a hold of his arm and follows, supporting him.

“The administered medicine was very successful,” the nurse informs them all as they shuffle down the hallway. “He’s awake, though I wouldn’t expect much talking from him. The doctor has advised him against it until he’s recovered.”

They reach the double doors leading back into the ER and the nurse stops the group with a gentle extended hand. 

“He can come,” she says, pointing to Angel as she checks her chart, “but I’m afraid the rest of you will have to wait until tomorrow morning to see him during visiting hours. Mr…err, Dust? Is listed as the patient's emergency contact. As none of you appear to be blood relatives, I can’t permit you inside. I am sorry.”

Charlie, gives Angel a gentle squeeze and a forced smile, looking pained by the news but more relieved than anything else. 

“You go see him,” she says softly, giving the taller man a brief hug. “Let him know we’ll all be back tomorrow. Take care of him tonight okay?”

Angel, not really able to form words at the moment, just nods. His brain is still trying to process everything that’s happened without overwhelming him to the point of collapsing. 

Leaving the others behind, he follows the nurse down the hall and to the right where she leads him into a small recovery room. 

When Angel sees Husk, he has to force himself not to cry for multiple reasons. 

His boyfriend is awake and breathing, no longer unconscious or convulsing or dying. He is, however, in a pretty sorry state. He lies on his back, several pillows stacked behind him, keeping him practically upright.  He’s hooked up to several tubes; an IV sticks out of his arm and an oxygen mask is covering the lower half of his face. Angel can see his weak breaths puffing against the plastic, can hear the startling wheeze of his chest even from here. His face is white as a sheet and he looks seconds from falling back asleep, utterly spent, his frame riddled with exhaustion. 

Angel sucks in a sharp breath, and swallows hard, forcing himself to step forward. Husk’s gaze is hazy and unfocused, and he doesn’t seem to register Angel entering the room. 

“Hey Whiskers,” Angel says quietly, embarrassed by how much his voice shakes. At this, Husk’s eyes instantly flick to his, and a small smile graces his face. Angel can’t help it, a single tear of relief rolls down his cheek at the sight. Husk opens his mouth as if to say something in return but Angel cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says softly, instantly at Husk’s side and taking his hand, gripping the thing like it’s a life line. “No talking, the doctor said so.”

Husk frowns a little, but complies. Instead, he reaches up with a shaky hand, eyebrows furrowed with worry, to wipe the tears off of Angel’s cheeks, wincing, as if Angel’s crying physically pains him. 

“Fuck, m’ sorry,” Angel sniffles, immediately scrubbing at his eyes. “Shouldn’t be crying, m’ just…so glad you're okay.” His voice breaks again here, and he hiccups a little, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to stop. 

When he feels the cry in his throat recede, he takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes, sniffling a little.

Husk, the fucking saint, gives his hand a tiny squeeze, looking like he wishes he could do more. 

Angel tries for a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to Husk’s knuckles and rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. 

“Angel?” A voice from behind him sounds suddenly, and he whirls around, finding that it’s just the doctor, standing over his shoulder. 

“I’m Dr. Fentali,” the man says, offering a soft smile. “I’m assuming you’re the patient’s emergency contact? Mr…Angel Dust?” The doctor raises his eyebrows, and it’s evident on his face that he recognizes the name. 

“I…” Angel trails off for a moment, glancing at Husk for confirmation. He hadn’t actually known he was his boyfriend’s emergency contact. 

Husk’s face colors a little, and he gives a sheepish shrug, followed by a tiny nod. 

“Yeah,” Angel says, turning back to the doctor. “I guess I am.”

“Wonderful,” Dr. Fentali says, marking something down on his clipboard before handing it and the pen to Angel. 

“I have some forms for you to sign, along with some care instructions on his chart there that you can take home with you. Your friend here has Mild Persistent Asthma. It’s not usually very serious but it seems he’s gone untreated for quite some time now. To be honest, I don’t know how he hasn’t ended up hospitalized sooner. He needs to be on regular daily medication and prescribed an inhaler for weekly use.”

Angel resists the urge to strangle Husk, given that he’s already almost suffocated once today. He settles for shooting the other man a sharp, disapproving glare. Husk looks away, huffing (and coughing) a little and crossing his arms.

“Has he had attacks before?” the doctor asks Angel. 

“Yes,” Angel replies, ignoring the traitorous look Husk is giving him. “He had one just last week during an allergic reaction. But it wasn’t—he could still breathe then. This time was worse.”

The doctor nods. “Yes, this attack was what we categorize as severe. You’re lucky you got him here on time, it can’t be treated at home like a moderate or mild attack can. I’m guessing the moderate attack last week is what led to this one becoming so intense. His airways were completely closed when you brought him to us.”

Angel unconsciously tightens his hand on Husk’s, biting his lip. Fucking hell, his boyfriend almost died . He should’ve just forced Husk to go to the doctor last week, rather than wait a month for an at home visit. He thought he’d been doing the right thing, getting Husk treated in a way that wouldn’t cause so much anxiety…now he wishes they hadn’t waited.

“Do you know what he was doing, when this attack occurred?” the doctor asks. “Was he exposed to another allergen?”

“I…I don’t think so,” Angel says, trying to recall what little Husk has told him. “He was flying though, in the storm. He told me sometimes when he flies his chest gets a little tight.”

The doctor nods, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, flying in this kind of weather is the equivalent of running a marathon. And just breathing in air this cold alone can sometimes cause asthmatics to have attacks. The combination of the cardiovascular excursion and the freezing temperatures are likely what caused this. I don’t recommend my patients do any exercise in anything below 4 degrees Celsius. Your friend was just flying in a category 4 blizzard in -25 degree winds.”

If looks could kill, the one Angel gave Husk would’ve done him in. 

“Yeah,” he growls through grit teeth, his eyes not leaving Husk. “He’s really stupid.”

Dr. Fentali clears his throat awkwardly. 

“It’s actually quite common for asthmatics to not know about the effects cold weather can have on their condition,” he tries to assure, sounding a bit nervous. Angel rolls his eyes, forcing himself to give the doctor a smile. 

“Relax doc, I ain’t pissed at him for not knowing. He just shouldn’tve been out in the storm in the first place.”

“That’s…true enough,” the doctor replies, looking a bit relieved. “While I’m sorry for the circumstances that brought him here, I am glad we’re going to be able to help him manage his symptoms from now on. With the right care he shouldn’t ever have to come back to us in this state again.”

Angel breathes a sigh of relief, feeling the right coil of anxiety in his stomach loosen a bit. 

“Just tell me what to do,” he says, leaning forward. “I’ll make sure he gets everything he needs.”

At this, the doctor smiles. 

“I’m sure you will,” he says, coming to stand beside Angel and takes him through the various papers he’s given him. 

“In terms of recovery for this particular attack, he should remain on vocal rest until morning. He’ll need to be here overnight and at least until the end of the day tomorrow.”

Angel feels Husk stiffen at that. He tries to give his boyfriend's hand a comforting squeeze.

“He’s going to need to be on bed rest for at least a week. I’ll see him here again a week from now to conduct a PFT, a breathing test, and make sure his lungs are on the mend. What does he do for work?”

“He bartends,” Angel replies, shooting a wary glance at Husk. “And does some other…odd jobs.” 

“Mm,” Dr. Fentali muses. “After a week of rest, he should be able to return to work, but I recommend he stay behind the bar, seated if possible. No running drinks. That second week he should limit physical activity as much as possible.”

Hearing all of this, Angel can physically feel Husk’s anxiety; and not metaphorically. Just by touching Husk’s hand, Angel’s spider body can sense the quickening of his pulse, the trembling of his frame. Not caring that someone is watching them, Angel gently brings Husk’s hand to his own heart, pressing it there as he’s found helps calm the other man. Slowly, he feels Husk’s pulse begin to slow, though his eyes remain wary. 

“I’ll make sure he gets all the rest he needs,” Angel assures, turning back to the doctor. “What else? How can we make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

Dr. Fentali explains that Husk is getting some hard core medicine now through his oxygen mask and IV. He then walks Angel through the medication he’s prescribing Husk, one pill, once a day. He also shows Angel how to use the inhaler he’s prescribing Husk, to be administered four times a week for the next month, and two times a week after that. 

“He can also use it whenever he experiences any mild or moderate attacks,” the doctor informs him. “Overuse won’t harm him. Though, for financial sake, I’d avoid administering it to resolve any mild individual symptoms. Some heavy breathing or a bit of tightness in the chest can usually be fixed with rest. Wheezing and constricting airways are what to watch for.” 

He glances at Husk, as if ensuring that the other man is absorbing that last bit of information. Husk gives a small nod, looking like he’d rather be discussing anything else. 

“Alright then,” Dr. Fentali says, offering a smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening to conduct a PFT before discharge. But if you need anything else before then, just buzz for the nurse. You seem like you’re in very good hands.”

At this, Husk blushes a little, and nods, looking down and fiddling with the white sheet. The doctor leaves, and Angel lets out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding back. He immediately brings Husk’s hand to his own cheek, placing a gentle kiss on the other man’s palm. 

“You idiot,” he chokes, feeling the tears returning to his eyes. “You absolute fucking moron. Do you realize you almost died? Do you have any idea how—how scared I was?” He hiccups, voice breaking mid-sentence around a strangled sob.

Husk gazes up at him, his expression full of remorse. He opens his mouth to respond, then, remembering he’s not supposed to talk, fumbles for his phone with trembling hands. Angel, letting out a shaky exhale and scrubbing at his eyes, fetches it for him so Husk doesn’t have to move. 

With shaking fingers, Husk types out a text on his phone and shows it to Angel. 

I’m sorry. Went looking for you. Didn’t realize how bad it was until it was 2 late.

At this, Angel huffs a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he demands, bringing a hand to his forehead and leaning his elbow on the bed. “I was stupid, I let my phone die. A tree was down in the road so I had to walk home, and I couldn’t text you to let you know. Fuck, I didn’t think you’d do something as stupid as trying to fly in that fucking nightmare though. What were you thinking Husk?”

Husk’s face flushes a little, and he averts his eyes, taking the phone back and typing as quickly as his shaking hands will allow. 

Was thinking of you. Was worried.  

Angel sees this and lets out a sigh, stroking Husk’s hand with his thumb. 

“You’re going to be okay now,” he says quietly. “I s’ppose that’s all that matters.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Husk gazing at him with an expression Angel can’t read, when suddenly, the other man’s eyes grow wide and panicked looking, the heart monitor beeping more rapidly. He takes the phone and types furiously.

Is Vaggie okay??? 

Angel reads the text, and nods quickly, not wanting Husk to get himself worked up. 

“She’s perfectly fine. When the two of you got separated she came back home. It actually might have been a good thing…when she came back we were able to have Alastor summon you without risking leaving her out there all alone.”

Angel sees Husk’s shoulders visibly relax, and he gives a shuddery, wheezing exhale of relief which morphs into a tiny, painful sounding coughing fit.

Wincing at how bad the rattle in his boyfriend's chest sounds, Angel tries to stroke his arm comfortingly. Husk looks so weak, not even possessing the strength to come forward off his pillows as he coughs. Instead he merely turns his head to the side, letting the fit run its course.

Angel resists the urge to withdraw his hands and cover his ears. The sound of the coughing grates on his body like nails on a chalkboard, making him almost nauseated. Husk in any sort of pain made him feel awful, but this…this was the worst he’d ever seen the other man. 

As the fit ends, Husk gives a little shake of his head, a tremor running through his body. He fumbles for the phone again, typing something new.

Alastor will b pissed I can’t work.

Angel scowls, instantly shaking his head. 

“Let me worry about tall dark and creepy,” he insists, rolling his eyes. “Charlie and I ain’t gonna let him keep ya’ from getting better. I swear ta’ you. Try not to worry about it too much, okay?”

Husk, looking as though he’s most definitely worrying about it too much, gives a reluctant nod, dropping the subject for now. Angel, wanting to encourage this, tries talking about something else.

“I ah. I didn’t know I was your emergency contact,” he says, smiling a little. “Mines still Cherri…now I feel kinda bad.” 

Husk flushes a little, typing his response. 

U can keep Cherri as yours. But mine used to be Al. Case I needed him to sign off on patching me up. I changed it cuz I figured I’d rather have you here. That okay??

Angel feels his heart grow warm, reading this one. 

“Of course it’s okay,” he says softly, giving Husk’s hand another squeeze. “I’m glad you did. Otherwise I couldn’t be here right now. Though, we should probably change it ta’ my legal name,” he says, laughing a little, flipping through Husk’s chart to locate his contact information. “I don’t know if ‘Angel Dust’ is gonna hold up as an official reference.”

Husk raises his eyebrows, typing again. 

Didn’t know your last name. So I put your stage name down. Will change it tomorrow, what is it?

Angel—Anthony—smiles. He takes the pen and prints his real, full name in the proper spot, before showing it to Husk. 

“Anthony Santoro,” he says softly. The name feels strange and foreign on his tongue and he feels his cheeks turn a bit pink. That family name came with a lot of baggage. 

But Husk smiles. 

It’s pretty, he types. Like you . 

Angel rolls his eyes, blushing a little. 

“I forget how fuckin’ sappy you are when you don’t feel well. I lhhike it th-though… ehh …ehtchu! ihhshu! heh …hehchx! chx! Chu! snniff . Ugh, s’cuse mbe, sorry.”

He instantly regrets letting the tiny fit slip as Husk’s eyes go wide with worry. 

“M’ okay,” he hurries to assure the other man, huffing a little in frustration. “The ahh…the walk home was just cold. Still trying ta’ shake the chill.”

Husk frowns, brow furrowing, and opens his arms, inviting Angel in to warm up.

Angel laughs. 

“You’re sweet. But as much as I wanna cuddle you right now, I don’t think we can with all these tubes and wires you got goin’ on. Not really room for two people on this bed anyway.”

The look on Husk’s face is fucking heart breaking. Angel imagines this is just another reason the man now has to hate hospitals. Angel doesn’t know how to make the situation better. He settles for scooting his chair in as close as humanly possible and wrapping himself around Husk’s forearm, placing his head against the other man’s temple. 

“We’ll be home soon,” he whispers in Husk’s ear, stroking his chest gently, feeling the broken breaths stuck there. “But right now you need this stuff to get better. I’m sorry, I know you hate…places like this.”

Husk blinks several times and takes a shuddery breath, as if trying not to cry. Angel can sense the anxiety that’s crawling under his skin. 

“I’m gonna be here with you the whole time,” he murmurs quietly to the other man. “M’ not goin’ anywhere.”

At that, Husk offers him a small smile and gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Despite the nerves, his eyelids are growing heavy, drooping. Angel watches him fondly, stroking the other man’s head. Just as Husk is drifting off, another chill runs down Angels spine, and he shivers, forced to turn away to let out a few tiny sneezes.

“hehtchu! ehtchu! ehh …ehtchi! Fuck, I swear I’m just a little cold,” he mutters, annoyed, shaking his head a little and scrunching up his nose. 

Husk, flushing a bit, points to a chair on the other side of the room where his old winter coat is draped. Angel huffs a little, chuckling, 

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, getting up to fetch it. “I’ll put it on. Next best thing to cuddling you is gettin’ to wear your stuff.”

This makes Husk flush even more, and Angel smirks a little as he wraps himself in Husk’s old coat. It smells like him, and even with the slits in the back for Husk’s wings, it isreally warm. Angel hums contentedly, his shivering dying down a little as he rejoins Husk beside the bed. 

“There,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Husk’s forehead. “M’ nice and warm. Now sleep. You need rest.”

Husk lightly tugs Angel in for a moment, touching their foreheads together. Angel realizes he’s trying to return the kiss Angel just gave him, but with the mask on his face this is the best he can do. The gesture makes Angel’s heart do tiny somersaults. He nestles his head on Husk’s shoulder, not caring that he had to bend over the bed at an awkward angel to do so. 

“Sleep,” he whispers to his boyfriend. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Commenting on this because I'm having Hazbin brainrot. I love Huskerdust and love ur writing

[coolbeans18]

On 6/18/2024 at 9:41 PM, SpookyScarySkeleton said:

Commenting on this because I'm having Hazbin brainrot. I love Huskerdust and love ur writing

TYSM! so glad ur enjoying:)

[coolbeans18]

Chapter 4: The Blizzard (Pt.2)

Husk is on the mend and Angel is there to make sure he gets properly cared for....literally just tons of fluff and them being cute together. Feel free to comment any scenarios you'd like to see featuring these two: I can't make promises but I'm always looking for ideas:) Enjoy!

Husk’s POV

Husk dreamed of his mother. He was in a cold empty hospital in northern Nevada and he was trying to find her room. He could hear her crying out for him, and the sound grated painfully on his ears as he desperately tried to reach her. He ran up and down the hallways among the flickering, sickly white lights, the faint smell of the rubbing alcohol stinging his lungs. 

As he searches for her, the hallways seem to warp and bend; no matter how many twists and turns Husk makes, the corridors just seem to grow longer, stranger. Soon, he can run no longer, his head swimming as oxygen seems to evade him, no matter how many breaths he takes. It’s as if someone has a chokehold on each of his lungs, keeping him from getting any air. He can hear his mother calling his name but the floor beneath him begins to transform; suddenly, he is up to his waist in water, and it rises, faster and faster. Husk claws to stay above the surface but it’s as if his limbs have turned to lead. He feels himself sinking, his neck straining to stay above the surface before finally, he slips under. 

Water fills his chest and he realizes with a sobering alarm that he is drowning. Somehow, even under the water, he can still hear his mothers voice, calling out to him, asking him to help her, to save her, chanting his name over and over like a mantra. He lets out a strangled sob, hoping she will know that he’s sorry, that he tried…His vision goes black around the edges, and as he feels his life begin to fade, his mothers voice morphs and changes, until it sounds like someone else’s voice, another person very dear to him—

Husk wakes up screaming. Thankfully, with his lungs as broken as they are, it doesn’t make much sound at all, a silent, voiceless cry that sends him hacking, shaking. Through teary eyes, he sees the same white wan lights from his dream, smells the same metallic, medicinal smell. He gasps, scrambling, sure that the water is still pouring in, that the hospital walls are still closing in around him. Faintly, he hears that voice, his mothers voice…no, not hers. Not anymore. 

“Husk,” comes Angel’s voice from beside him, soft, gentle, cutting through the fog of his mind. “Husk. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. Husk, baby, please, you need to breathe .”

With wild eyes, chest heaving, Husk’s eyes find Angel’s, and the sight of the other man gives him some reprieve. 

“My mother,” Husk chokes out in between coughs, his head spinning. “Where is she?”

Angel's eyebrows furrow with concern. 

“Husk, sweetie, I need you to try and take some deep breaths.” 

“No!” Husk cries out, his lungs seizing, making his vision darken. He doesn’t care. 

“My mom,” he wheezes, barely able to speak. “She was…she was here. I couldn’t find her—I couldn’t get to her—“

He breaks off coughing, his neck straining as he gasps for breath. 

Angel’s eyes grow wide with realization, and he puts a careful hand on Husk’s arm. 

“Husk, baby, that wasn’t real,” he says softly, gripping the other man’s arm as if trying to ground him in reality. “You were dreaming that. I know…I know you’re probably confused, since we’re in a hospital, but this is real sweetie. You had an asthma attack, do you remember that?”

Husk, still struggling to catch his breath, manages to give a small nod, the memories of the night before flooding back in. This wasn’t the hospital from his dream. This was a real one. Angel was here, with him. He had this stupid oxygen mask on his face that was supposed to be helping him breathe. It didn’t seem like it was doing much at present. His ears have started to ring and he’s beginning to panic a little. 

Vaguely, in the background, he hears Angel calling for the nurse before coming to kneel at Husk’s side. 

 “Just try to get one breath in baby,” Angel murmurs softly in his ear, holding his shoulder. “The medicine will help you breathe Husk, c’mon, do it for me.” 

With a strangled wheeze, Husk manages a small inhale. The effect is immediately, the medicine from his oxygen mask opening his throat and lungs. He gasps, his eyes fluttering closed in relief as he finally takes several deep breaths. 

Soon a nurse is at his side, and he half registers Angel saying things to her as she checks his IV, his equipment, his heart, the other monitors. Husk doesn’t pay much attention, savoring each breath and concentrating on slowing his heart rate. 

Eventually, the nurse leaves, assuring Angel that everything is fine. Angel watching her go warily, as if he wishes she would stay. Still looking very anxious, he turns back to Husk, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Feelin’ okay?” He asks, rolling his shoulders a little and stretching his neck. Husk recalls that his boyfriend fell asleep slumped over the bed in a rather awkward position. He’s probably sore. Husk gives Angel a little nod, coughing a bit. He does feel better than he did the night before, his chest no longer hurting quite so much.

“It’s seven AM,” Angel says, wincing a little. “Y’ should go back to sleep. Charlie n’ the others will be here to see you at 2, I think. Discharge is s’pposed to be at 6 tonight.”

Maybe it’s Husk’s imagination, but the other man’s voice is sounding a little worse for wear. Husk imagines an entire night spent sleeping sitting up wasn’t doing him any favors. 

“Do you…” Husk pauses, clearing his throat a little to force actual sound out. “Do you hafta’ be at work?” 

Angel gives him a small smile. “Nah. I’m gonna take a few personal days. I wanna be here with you.”

Husk frowns. 

“I didn’t think Val did personal days.”

Angel averts his eyes sheepishly. 

“He…doesn’t,” he admits, wincing a little. Seeing the guilt beginning to cloud Husk’s face, he hurries to reassure him. 

“There ain’t nothin’ he can do ta’ me to force me to come in Husk,” he says, setting his jaw. “I’ll deal with whatever the consequences are when I go back, but nothin’s gonna keep me from bein’ here for you until you’re better. Jus’ put it out of your mind for now, yeah? Focus on you for a change.”

Husk would like too, but it’s hard when Angel’s own voice is starting to cut in and out a bit.  Husk eyes the other man warily. He recalls what Angel had told him last night, about having to walk the seven miles home in the storm. Husk didn’t think you could get sick by just being exposed to cold weather but…

“ ihhh …ihchgx! chx! chx!”

Then again, this was Angel. The poor kid had just about the worst immune system Husk had ever seen. For all Husk knew, he could’ve already been coming down with some bug from the studio before being forced to walk home in the cold. Husk let’s out a little sigh, which ends in a tiny cough. Angel should be at home in bed, not here in the hospital with him. 

Angel for his part, is still trying hard to hide it, giving a little shake of his head and blinking a few times after stifling the tiny fit. He glances up at Husk and sees the other man, watching him. 

“Itd’s just a liddle cold,” Angel insists defensively upon seeing Husk’s wary gaze. “I get themb all the timbe, you kdnow that,” the taller man mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself. 

His voice is a little stuffed up, but other than that, he does seem alright. No cheeks flushed with fever or terrible sounding cough.

Husk frowns, guilt still gnawing at him. 

“Maybe…maybe you should go home,” he forces himself to say, though the prospect of being left here in this place without Angel makes his heart pound and his palms sweat. “Get some rest. You don’t—“ He’s forced to pause to cough a little. “You don’t need to stay here all day.”

Angel raises his eyebrows, huffing in disbelief. 

“Don’t be an idiot, m’ not leavin’ you. I know how much hospitals freak you out.”

Husk can’t help the small sigh of relief he lets out, though he feels guilty about it. Angel notices, and offers him a smile. 

“I can sit round’ here same as I could at home,” he assures Husk. “Hell, I go to work all the time feelin’ way worse than this.”

Husk scowls at that. 

“You shouldn’t have too,” he growls a little, making himself cough again. Angel chuckles fondly, rubbing the other man’s back. 

“Don’ go gettin’ all worked up defending my honor Whiskers,” he says, smiling a little. “My point was that I’m just fine. If I was home I’d be too worried about you ta’ rest much anyway. I wanna be right here.”

Husk, relenting, gives his boyfriend's hands a gentle squeeze.

“At least come lay down with me?” He wheezes, pleading with his eyes. “I miss…having you close.”

Angel sighs a little, looking at all the various tubes and wires warily. 

“Let me see what I can do,” he murmurs, carefully mauvering both the oxygen tank and the IV cart so that they are both on one side of the bed. He slowly begins to untangle the chords from the heart monitors and the air tubes, making sure he doesn’t disrupt or disconnect anything. Husk watches his boyfriend work with a sudden overwhelming sense of adoration. 

“Alright, scoot as far to your left as ya’ can,” Angel says, giving Husk’s side a gentle nudge. Husk does as he says, wincing as even this small movement leaves him a bit winded. Angel notices, and glances at Husk, worriedly. 

“Okay?” He asks the other man, biting his lip. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this—“

“M’ alright,” Husk manages to get out, hurrying to assure his boyfriend. “Please? I’ll feel better if I can at least…keep you warm and…and having you close helps with…with being here, in this place.”

 Husk cringes a little as his own desperate, needy request. He knows his fear and anxiety around hospitals and doctors is irrational, but he can’t help it. His body and brain can’t seem to distinguish between this location and the awful, nerve wracking emotions that he’d felt in locations like it. 

Hearing Husk’s confession, Angel’s expression softens. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, and Husk is reminded of how much he loves Angel reversing his own coined pet names on him. It makes his heartbeat stutter a little.  

“S’ your breathing alright now?” Angel asks. “Are you comfortable?”

Husk nods yes to both, and can’t keep the stupid smile off his face as Angel awkwardly shimmies into the tiny twin bed beside him, laying on his side, just barely able to fit. 

Despite his initial hesitation, Husk hears Angel let out a contented sigh as he settles in, giving a small sniffle. 

“You were right,” he concedes, giggling a little. “This is better.”

Husk couldn’t agree more, his heartbeat already slowing, the ringing in his ears dulling. 

They lay in silence for a while, Husk drifting in and out of sleep as Angel lazily traces circles on his shoulders and chest. The sensation keeps Husk grounded, making him feel safe. 

The nurse returns a bit later, bringing them both some breakfast and a pill for Husk to take. 

“You can take off the mask to eat, but for no more than 15 minutes, alright?” She informs Husk, and with Angel beside him, he forces himself to nod dutifully. The thing might be fucking annoying but it is helping. 

As the nurse busies herself with checking his vitals and changing out his oxygen, Husk dives into the food, only now realizing how hungry he is. It’s shitty, typically for hospital meals, but he’s too hungry to care. Angel, he notices with pleasure, is eating too, not devouring it the way Husk is but eating all the same. Sometimes when he caught colds it was hard to convince the kid to eat much. Thankfully, so far, it appeared Angel was telling the truth; this cold didn’t seem to be too bad, at least not yet. 

As if the universe could hear Husk’s thoughts and was determined to jinx them, he feels Angel tense up a bit beside him. Husk, unable to help himself, watches as Angel turns away, bringing his elbow up to cover three tiny stifled sneezes. 

“ heh …hetch! ehtchgx! chgx!” He lets out a tiny little sigh at the end, giving a small shake of his head. 

“Do you have any meds for a cold?” Husk asks the nurse, ignoring the way his chest seizes up a bit from talking without his mask on. 

The nurse glances over at the two of them, raising her eyebrows. 

“Are you feeling ill?” She asks him, eyebrows furrowing. “The doctor should’ve caught that, there’s nothing here in your chart—“

“Not for me,” Husk amends, nodding his head towards his boyfriend. “For him.”

“I’mb fide,” Angel says immediately, shooting an irritated glance at Husk. “Really, itd’s just the sniffles.”

For some reason, that particular phrase from Angel while he’s all stuffed up and adorable sounding makes Husk’s insides turn to jello. He forces his heartbeat to slow, not wanting to risk another coughing fit. 

The nurse offers them a small smile.

“Ah, I see. Well why don’t I bring some just in case?”

Angel huffs, looking annoyed, while Husk just smiles at the nurse gratefully and nods. 

When she leaves, Angel shoots Husk a little scowl. 

“You can’t not be all attentive and selfless, even on your deathbed, can ya’?”

Husk rolls his eyes. 

“M’ not dying. I feel a lot better.”

“Mmm,” Angel hums, not looking convinced. “Whacha wanna do? Personally I think y’ should go back to sleep but I uh, I met Charlie in the wait room this morning and had her bring you some stuff…”

He bends over to ruffle through a backpack that Husk is just now realizing exists. He watches as Angel pulls out the book he’s currently reading, Stephen King’s Mr. Mercedes , his laptop, and a deck of cards. Husk suddenly has a little knot in this throat that has nothing to do with asthma. 

“You…you brought my stuff for me?” He asks softly, still not quite able to believe he has someone this caring and considerate in his life. 

Angel chuckles, enjoying the little blush on Husk’s face. 

“Yeah well. I know you hate bein’ stuck here so I figured some distractions might help. If you don’t feel like sleepin’ anymore.”

Husk blinks a few times, and clears his throat. He is not about to get all teary eyed over some playing cards and books. That’s Angel’s thing. 

“I um. I’d like to read,” he says quietly, fiddling with the end of his blanket. “But, my head still kind of hurts and I um. I don’t have my glasses on me.” 

Angel curses, sighing a little. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry Husk, I knew I was forgetting something—“

“Shut up,” Husk cuts him off with a glare. “Fuck right off with that bullshit. I usually have em’ in my pocket, s’ not your fault.”

Angel does as he’s told, but still looks like he feels bad, chewing on his lip a bit and staring off into the distance. Suddenly, his eyes light up, and he turns to Husk, smiling. 

“I could read ta’ ya’,” he suggests, picking up Mr. Mercedes, already flipping to Husk’s spot. Husk flushes at that, immediately shaking his head. 

“I—no, you don’t have to do that.”

Angel gives him an exasperated look. 

“I know I don’t have to, I want to ya’ dumbass,” he laughs, poking Husk’s shoulder playfully. “ My eyes work just fine, and it’ll help keep your mind off of all this bullshit.”

Husk gives a little sigh and a cough.

“You ain’t read the first half of the book,” he argues half-heartedly. “Ya’ won’t know even know what’s goin’ on.”

Angel shrugs. 

“I don’ mind. You’ll know what’s happening. Sides’, I’m like a five year old; anything entertains me.”

Husk laughs a little at that, grinning. 

“That is very true,” he concedes, his tone teasing. 

Angel smirks, scooting in a little closer to Husk so that he can read right near his ear and keep his voice quiet. 

“If I really need to, I’ll ask ya’ questions,” Angel murmurs softly. He sits up a little, casually wrapping an arm around Husk’s shoulder, then another around his lower waist. The movement is so relaxed, so natural, and it makes Husk’s throat run dry. Angel pulls Husk in so his head is leaning on his shoulder, and opens the book with his two right arms. 

“Comfy?” He asks, and Husk can’t help the little contented sigh that slips out in this new position. He could get used to this. Him being the little spoon is rare…but he can’t deny that it feels pretty damn good. He’d have to make a point to do this more often. Angel is nice and warm, and resting on his shoulder like this actually makes it easier to breathe. He’s grateful for this as he’s started wheezing a little again. 

As if the man can read his goddamn mind, Angel reaches beside Husk for the oxygen mask. 

“Back on,” he chides as Husk frowns. He’s growing really tired of that thing. Angel goes to slip it over his head but Husk stops him. 

“I can do it myself,” he growls, slightly annoyed. He hates this; feeling weak and helpless. If he has to wear the damn thing he can at least equip it on his own. 

Angel shoots him a pointed look. 

“I get that this is your worst fuckin’ nightmare, but you ain’t gotta be a dick. You’re gonna wear it because it’ll help you get better. Now shut up and relax while I whisk you away with ma’ lovely voice.”

Husk flushes a little, but doesn’t argue, adjusting the mask over his face and letting himself sink into Angel’s side. 

In a low, soothing voice, Angel begins to read to him. He pauses every few pages or so to ask Husk a question, or to clarify something, but other than that, continues uninterrupted…save for the occasional sneeze. As much as they concern Husk, his boyfriend seems like he was telling the truth; it’s just a small cold. Angel catches them often from work. He doesn’t seem to be getting any worse, thank god, and Husk would be lying if he said Angel in this adorable state didn’t make him slightly giddy. 

Husk didn’t think anyone had ever read to him before. Not even as a child really. His father hadn’t exactly stuck around after he was born and his mother was always working. Husk had taught himself to read out of sheer boredom, and had fallen in love with books as a way to escape the hellish nightmare that was his life. And death, he supposed…well, until recently. Now, as Angel sits here, holding him, reading to him softly, Husk is reminded of how genuinely happy he is. Even here, in this place, under these circumstances. Wrapped in the warmth and relaxation of his partner’s embrace, Husk finds himself slowly drifting off to the calming sound of Angel’s voice.

 

Angel’s POV

Husk only made it about half an hour before falling back asleep. Angel could tell when his boyfriend had drifted off by the sound he made. Husk didn’t snore in his sleep… he wheezed. Angel had come to realize this after a month of sleeping beside the other man almost every night. It was normally pretty quiet, barely even noticeable. Angel had grown used to the sound, learning that he only really needed to worry if the wheezing happened while Husk was awake. But right now, it was painfully evident, every little breath Husk took sounding like he had broken glass lodged in his chest. Still, he looked peaceful enough, there in Angel’s arms, and Angel tried to lie very still, not wanting to disturb him. His phone was just out of reach, lying at the end of the bed, so Angel allowed himself to close his own eyes, just for a minute. He really was feeling alright, but little colds like the one he sported now (he still couldn’t believe he’d gotten sick from a short walk in the cold…fucking pathetic) did tend to cause a little fatigue. He carefully leans his head back, letting his eyes close. 

He doesn’t think he actually falls asleep…more drifts in and out of awareness, the worrisome sound of Husk’s rattling breath keeping him from getting any real rest. He’s just starting to lightly doze off again when he hears…whispering?

“Oh my god, they’re sooo cute.”

“Cherri, quick, get a picture before they wake up.”

“Don’t embarrass them, maybe we should just let them sleep…”

Angel blinks sleepily, rubbing his eyes a little. As his vision comes into focus he’s able to identify the source of the voices. Vaggie, Charlie, Cherri and Nifty all crowd around the bed, gazing at the two of them; Charlie with unnerving fondness, Vaggie looking very uncomfortable as if she’d just walked in on them naked, Nifty with her usual demonic little grin, and Cherri, with an impish smirk as she snaps a photo on her cellphone.

“Do NOT post that anywhere,” Angel snaps at his best friend. “You’ll give him a fuckin’ heart attack on top of all the other shit he’s dealin’ with.”

Cherri and the others laugh, trying and failing to stay quiet for Husk’s sake. Beside him, Angel feels the other man begin to stir.

“Oh shit, did we wake him?” Charlie whispers, taking a step back, looking guilty. “We can go if you want.”

Angel smiles, shaking his head. 

“Nah, I think he’ll want t’ see ya’. Husk, wake up, you got company,” he says softly, gently rousing the other man the rest of the way.

Husk, behind his mask, yawns, and Angel fights the urge to coo at how cute it is. As the other man’s eyes come into focus, they widen a little, taking in the four visitors in his room.

“I--hi guys,” he murmurs, sleep still clinging to his voice. 

Charlie, unable to help herself, tackles Husk in a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. 

“Oh my god Husk!” she cries out in relief, her voice wavering a little. “We’re so glad you’re okay! Don’t ever fucking scare us like that again!”

Husk, looking a little startled, returns the gesture, awkwardly trying to get his arms around Charlie amidst all the cords and wires attached to him. Charlie has him in a bit of a death grip, and Angel gently separates the two of them, slowly prying Charlie off of his boyfriend.

“Jesus Charlie, he’s having enough trouble breathing as is,” he says, chuckling, and Charlie immediately retreats, her hands fidgeting anxiously at her side.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful.”

“S’ okay,” Husk chuckles lowly, sitting up a little. “Sorry for ah…for scarin’ you all.”

“I keep telling this fuckhead to buy a portable charger but he doesn’t listen,” Cherri fires at Angel, who sticks out his tongue in response.

“Very mature,” Vaggie says dryly, coming to sit beside Husk and offering him a small smile. Then, something in her eyes changes, and she averts her gaze solemnly, looking very small all of the sudden.

“Husk, I…I’m sorry I left you out there,” she says quietly, her voice tight and clamped. “I just---I didn’t know what to do, I wanted to look for you but I figured you’d head back to the hotel, I knew something was…off, but I had no idea--”

Vaggie looks dangerously close to crying, something Angel has never fucking seen, and he’s even more surprised when his boyfriend cut’s the other girl off by taking her hand and giving it a small squeeze. Angel tries not to gawk at the two, who each almost never display any kind of emotional intimacy in public. 

“You did the right thing Vags,” Husk says quietly as the other girl gives a sharp inhale, desperately trying to get a hold of herself. “Nothin’ that happened was your fault.”

“Besides,” Charlie chimes in, coming to put her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, “knowing you were safe and wouldn't be left all alone is what made us feel like we could have Alastor summon Husk. If anything, you saved him Vaggie.”

Husk nod’s in agreement, and Angel, the sappy piece of shit that he was, is forced to swallow, starting to get a little weepy by how fucking sweet and tender Husk is being. Angel was usually the only one who got to see that side of him, and while it often made him feel special, seeing Husk being so tentative and caring towards their friend, even while he was so sick, made Angel’s heart melt.

Vaggie clears her throat, withdrawing her hand from Husk’s and giving a short little nod. The two idiots look away from each other awkwardly, neither knowing where to go from here. Angel might’ve laughed, if he didn’t think that would result in the two of them never showing any emotional tenderness towards each other ever again.

Nifty saves them, perching near Husk on the bed and poking his leg.

“What’s that on your face?” she asks, and Husk flushes a little, looking embarrassed. Angel, frowning, answers for him.

“It’s helpin’ him breath Niff,” he says a bit sharply, scowling a little. “Leave im’ alone about it, you're makin’ him all self-conscious.”

Nifty rolls her eyes, squinting at the mask as if scrutinizing it even further. 

“It was just a question ,” she argues, turning to Husk. “It’d be cooler if it made you sound like Darth Vader when you talked or something,” she says to him pointedly, and this, thankfully, makes Husk laugh, the redness fading from his face. He coughs a little at the end, glancing at Angel with a smile.

“That would make me hate it less,” he agrees with Niffty, ruffling the tiny girl’s hair affectionately. She bares her teeth at him, shrieking.

“You aren’t allowed to do that!” she exclaims, glaring at him. The look she was giving Husk would’ve made Angel piss his pants, but Husk just shrugs.

“I’m sick,” he fires back, smirking a little. “Don’ I get a free pass just this once?”

The two continue bickering back and forth before Charlie cuts in and presents Husk with the little “Get Well Soon” bundle they’ve brought him. There’s some little balloons, some chocolate, a card, (no flowers, Angel notes gratefully) and finally, Charlie’s little stuffed duck, Sir Quacksalot. 

“I gave him to Angel last time he was sick,” she laughs. “He’s good for moral support.”

Husk grins, and plops Sir Quacksalot on Angel’s head as he continues going through the rest of the little gifts.

Afterwards, Vaggie suggests a card game, and the six of them play a few quick rounds of Texas Holdem’, betting with loose change and chocolates and a pack of cigarettes that Angel had in his pocket…which Charlie admonishes him for of course, leading Angel to point out that if she didn’t want him to have them, she should focus on winning . Charlie, never one to be very competitive, instantly becomes more invested and determined than ever before. In the end though, Husk beats them all, having cleaned everyone out in a matter of minutes. 

“I thought maybe we’d have a shot for once with you almost dying a few hours ago,” Cherri groans, sliding her last few quarters over to Husk, who shoots her a wicked grin.

“I could beat all of you in my sleep,” he laughs, looking way too happy as he collects his winnings. Charlie snatches the cigarettes from the middle before Husk can grab them, causing him to scowl.

“Absolutely not!” Charlie exclaims, looking appalled. “Look where we are right now, you moron. You are most definitely not smoking anytime soon.”

“ Strongly agree,” Angel chimes in, laughing as the look of betrayal on Husk’s face. 

“ I’m not the one detoxing here,” he growls at Angel, pouting a little, and Angel gives him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Cheer up Whiskers,” he laughs. “You don’t smoke that often anyway. I’ll ask the doctor if I can make you a little drink when we get home tonight. A reward for good behavior.”

Husk frowns, but this seems to pacify him for the time being. After the game, Angel notices his boyfriend’s eyes begin to grow heavy. He (not-so-politely) tell’s their friends to “scram, he’s gettin’ tired,” which earns him a glare from Husk, but the others don’t seem to mind his abruptness. They give Husk hugs, telling him they’ll be waiting for him this evening, before slipping out, just as Husk is beginning to lose consciousness. Spent, he slumps back against Angel and is asleep in an instant. Angel smiles at his partner fondly, giving him a small kiss on the forehead.

Around 5:30, the doctor comes in, entering quietly so as not to wake Husk.

“Discharge is in half an hour,” he says softly to Angel. “I’m here to conduct one last breathing test before releasing him, to make sure he’s still improving and can safely take the oxygen mask off. But we can let him sleep for a moment, I have some homecare items to go over with you.”

Angel nods, sitting up and paying close attention. Dr. Fentali pulls out a small bag, containing two additional inhalers, a three month supply of something called Montelukast--Angel doesn’t have a clue how to pronounce that--along with something in a little tin that looks like..tea?

Angel looks at the doctor questioningly.

“It’s what I recommend my patients drink, along with lots of water, in these next two weeks as they recover,” Dr. Fentali explains. “We don’t usually provide it to patients ourselves but, well…you’re with Lucifer. So I had the nurse include some.”

“Weird question,” Angel interjects, a little sheepishly, “but ah…is he gonna die if I put some bourbon in this? It’s kind of his favorite an’ he’s just had such a shit day.”

Dr. Fentali laughs. “As a doctor I wouldn’t recommend it, but…a little shouldn’t have any detrimental effects. It’s a blend of peppermint, eucalyptus and ginger, all good for reducing inflammation and aiding breathing. Bourbon should actually pair quite nicely. I checked his list of allergens we have on file to ensure he can safely consume it.”

Angel, 0.2 seconds away from opening the lid, immediately stops himself. He hastily returns the closed tin to the bag. Fucking perfect, he grumbles internally. Three things he was crazy allergic to, all in one little bundle. It’d be fine, he’d just have to ask someone else to make the stuff for Husk. His ears perk up at the last thing the doctor says.

“There’s a list?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Any chance we can get a copy? I don’ even think he knows what he’s allergic too.” 

Dr Fentali chuckles. “I don’t blame him. It’s ah…quite a long list. But certainly, I’ll include it in your release forms that the nurse will bring you.”

Angel pointedly ignores the way that statement makes his chest grow a little warm and clears his throat, thanking the man.

“The pills should help with his exercise-induced asthma,” Dr. Fentali continues, “but they won’t do much when it comes to allergic reactions. Your friend says he takes over the counter medication but you may want to convince him to consider getting regular allergy shots. I’ve included a pamphlet in here, they can help keep the symptoms pretty mild.” 

Fat chance, Angel thinks, grimacing. Husk had nearly hyperventilated at the mere mention of going to the doctors office; Angel couldn’t imagine his reaction if it was suggested that he go multiple times a year. Still, he nodded, promising he’d try. The doctor was also kind enough to give Husk a new epi-pen.

“His old one is almost expired,” the doctor explained. “So I figured I’d get you a new one today.”

Angel gets his first look at the thing, having never seen one before. He wasn’t sure these had even existed when he was alive. 

At the sight of the gigantic fucking needle, Angel audibly gulps.

“Would you like a demonstration on how to administer it?” Dr. Fentali asks him, picking up the thing and brandishing it casually, like it isn’t utterly terrifying to look at. Angel forces himself to nod, his stomach becoming a bit squeamish. He’s never liked needles. He’d only injected a handful of times with Val, and he’d only been able to pull that off by consuming a fuck ton of other drugs first…that, and being motivated by the crippling fear of disappointing his boss and lover at the time. But now, seeing a needle that size, sober? It was causing his legs to wobble a little.

Angel is dangerously close to passing the fuck out as the doctor mimes stabbing Husk in the thigh, when Husk stirs beside him, blinking sleepily.

“Was’ goin’ on?” he mumbles tiredly, blinking a little. His eyes widen in alarm as he sees Angel, who's starting to turn a little green, staring at Dr. Fentali in horror.

“I’m um. I’m learning how to use your epi-pen,” Angel squeaks, trying and failing to compose himself.

Husk, laughing a little, raises his eyebrows. 

“Not a fan of needle’s Legs?” he teases lightly, looking all too amused. Angel scowls at him, though it’s undermined by the way his face turns white as a sheet as Dr. Fentali uncaps the epipen and the needle turns out to be even larger than he’d thought.

“Okay, okay,” Husk says hurriedly, waving at the doctor to put it away. “I think he’s got it. Cap it before he passes out.”

“M’ fine,” Angel chokes out, his voice wavering unconvincingly. Husk, chuckling, gives his leg a little squeeze, which helps some. 

A breathing test confirms that Husk can ditch the oxygen mask, which the other man looks extremely relieved about. The doctor gives him the all clear to go home, and Angel releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He hurriedly fills out all the release paperwork as Husk changes out of his hospital gown, eager to get the other man home, in his own bed, preferably snuggled up against Angel’s side. 

The nurse offers Husk a wheelchair which the other man blatantly refuses, much to Angel’s dismay. Luckily it’s only a short walk to the wait room where Lucifer is waiting on them with a portal. The hospital still appears to be closed, its staff stuck in place as all the roads are undrivable and the weather even worse than it was when Husk and Angel arrived. 

Angel makes a point to thank the King of Hell profusely, not knowing what they would have done had he not swooped in and saved the day. Lucifer just shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. To him, it probably isn’t. But to Angel it’s his whole fucking world. 

When they arrive they are met with much fanfare, Charlie and Niffy having made a sloppy, homemade Welcome Home sign that makes Husk smile, despite himself. 

While Husk is chatting softly with Cherry about something, Angel pulls Charlie aside and asks her if she’ll make the tea the doctor gifted Husk, given that if he is anywhere near that tin when it opens he’ll turn into a sneezy mess. He also (with much cajoling) persuades her to add a shot of Husk’s favorite bourbon, promising that the doctor gave the okay. Charlie looks doubtful, but Angel works his magic—not by flirting, for once, but with his best puppy dog eyes— and the other girl finally relents. 

Angel returns to the sitting room where he finds Husk and Cherri turning on the tv. 

“Nooo,” he declares, snatching the remote. “Nuh-uh, the doctor said he’s on bed rest, he’s going straight upstairs.”

Husk frowns at him. “It’s 7pm. The fuck is the difference between a couch and a bed?” He huffs, exchanging an exasperated look with Cherri, which she returns . Angel wants to strangle her. 

“The difference,” he says through grit teeth, “is that I know you two are about ta’ turn on the British Baking Show and he—“ he pauses, pointing at Husk accusingly—“gets wayyy too worked up when his favorites get voted out. He’s supposed ta’ be relaxing, not having heart attacks over pineapple upside down cake.”

Cherri makes a face. 

“Buzzkill. It’s a bake-off, not heroin. When the fuck did you get all responsible?” She says distastefully, and Angel can see Husk fighting not to laugh.

He glares at them both. 

“The two a’ you as friends is getting old real fast,” he scowls, taking Husk’s hand and marching him out of the room. Husk shoots an apologetic, slightly peeved look at Cherri over his shoulder. 

“Tomorrow,” he promises her, causing Angel to shoot him another dirty look. 

“ If he’s feeling better,” he amends, eyeing them both, very annoyed. Husk, the bastard, just laughs. 

“ Tomorrow ,” he says again to Cherri, as if confirming it, completely ignoring Angel, who groans in frustration and pulls the other man from the room. 

“She’s a bad fuckin’ influence on you,” he grumbles, leading Husk towards the elevator. Husk smirks.

“Oh yeah,” he says sarcastically. “She’s got me watching cooking shows. The audacity.”

That does make Angel laugh, and he pulls Husk in for a sideways hug as they board the elevator.

“M’ not tryna ruin your fun,” he sighs, pressing the button for the second floor. “I just w hh ant you t’ be e hh xtra… eh -extra c-careful…ehhshu! ishhu! Ugh, s’cuse mbe, sorry.”

Husk takes his hand, looking concerned. 

“You’re right,” he murmurs softly, pulling Angel in closer. “We both need some sleep. You still feelin’ okay?”

Angel can’t help the way his heart flutters at the other man’s concern. He’d almost died not 12 hours ago and here he was worried about Angel and his little cold. 

“I’m great, specially’ now that you’re home,” he says, smiling, placing a little kiss on Husk’s head, making the other man blush. 

The happy moment is short lived however as the elevator door dings and opens to reveal Alastor, standing there, grinning. 

Angel scowls. 

“Do you just hang out here waiting for people to get off?” He snaps, immediately putting a protective arm around Husk. 

“Now now Angel, there’s no need for hostilities,” Alastor jeers condescendingly. “I’m merely here to check in on my most valuable asset. I must say, it was quite the surprise; I didn’t think you had any secrets left to keep from me Husker. Though I can see why you did…it’s quite amusing, the former gambling overlord, so easily conquered by a bit of cold weather.”

Angel balls his fists, feeling Husk shrink a little beside him. 

“Leave him alone Al,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even. “He needs a week's worth a’ rest an’ you ain’t gonna interfere with that. Charlie’s orders.”

At this, the deer simply waves him off. 

“Yes yes,” he tuts, looking bored. “I’m well aware he requires time to recover. In fact, Ms. Morningstar and I have hired two additional staff to man the bar in your absence, Husker. I think you’ll be pleased with our choices.”

Husk narrows his eyes. 

“What’re you playin’ at?” He growls, his grip tightening on Angel’s hand. “Ain’t no way you’re just fine with me missin’ a week a’ work.” 

“Yes well,” Alastor warbles, looking mildly annoyed, “it is a nuisance, this predicament you’ve brought upon yourself. But contrary to what your—“ he pauses briefly, wrinkling his nose at Angel—“current companion might think, you know I don’t wish you dead Husker. You’re far too useful to me. But don’t think you are…how do they say it now? Off the hook. When you return to your usual, savage self, I will have many a task for you to complete on my behalf to demonstrate your gratitude. Understood?”

Angels blood boils. 

“You fucking miniacle little—“

“Understood,” Husk cuts Angel off, before he can tear into Alastor with his teeth. 

Angel's gaze cuts sharply to Husk. The other man gives Angel a firm look, clearly expressing one silent word. Don’t .

 Forcing himself to bite his tongue, Angel inhales sharply through his nose, settling for shooting Alastor a sharp glare as he ushers Husk past the Radio Demon and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind them. 

“I’ll kill him,” he growls once they are safely inside, throwing his purse on the ground in anger. Husk just gives a tired sigh.

“It coulda’ been worse. A lot worse. I’ll take what I can get.”

“He can’t punish you for taking time off—you almost fucking died! And he wants to—to ridicule ya’ for it like it’s somehow in your control!”

“Angel,” Husk says, suddenly sounding very tired. “Please drop it. I really—don’t want to think about it right now.” He gives a little cough and all but collapses onto the bed, his wheeze sounding all the more evident. Angel shuts up instantly, and comes to his side. 

“You’re right,” he says quietly, rubbing Husk’s shoulder. “Sorry, me gettin’…worked up isn’t helpful. Let’s get you in bed yeah?”

Husk gives a weary nod, wincing and rubbing his chest a little, absentmindedly, the way he does when it’s tight. He coughs again, and Angel realizes for the first time how fucking cold it is in here. With the power out, there’s little heat, and Angel hurries to get a fire going in the hearth. He uses the matchbox in Husk’s nightstand, and makes quick work of it, Charlie having already stocked the room with firewood. Hurrying back over, he helps Husk under the covers, and props him up on the pillows (there are several now…Husk had purchased some and accepted a few donations from Angel given that the two slept in here so often). 

“It should warm up soon,” Angel murmurs. shivering a little himself and forced to pause to duck to the side with a tiny little “heh-tchu!” 

He sighs a little, rubbing his nose, and turns back to find Husk watching him, his cheeks a little pink. 

“Quit starin,” Angel chuckles shyly. “M’ not tryin’ to get you all flustered.” 

Husk blushes hard, looking away, and Angel laughs. He retrieves Husk’s old football jersey he wears to bed, bringing it to him. 

Husk, a bit tired and thus, not as self conscious as normal, sheds his shirt right in front of Angel, and now it’s Angel’s turn to stare, watching the way that even now Husk’s lean muscles stretch and flex as he pulls the nightshirt over his head, noticing the way it rides up just a bit on his stomach, his boxers hugging his waist…

Angel forces himself to take a slow breath, knowing he definitely can’t ravage the other man here, now, while he’s on the mend. 

He’s saved from his distinctly inappropriate thoughts by a knock at the door. He clears his throat, averting his eyes and crossing the room. 

“That’ll be Cha-Cha with your tea,” he murmurs, opening the door to Charlie’s smiling face. 

“How’s he doing?” She asks straight away, peeking around Angel at Husk, who scowls.

“I’m fine Charlie, you don’ need to hover.”

Charlie shoots him a glare.

“That’s no way to talk to the person who just brought you your favorite bourbon,” she admonishes, and Husk immediately goes quiet, eyeing the steaming mug of tea Charlie holds.

“Really?” He asks, sounding a bit like a child, and Angel smiles. 

“I asked the doctor, he said it was fine. He did make me mix it in this tea he gave ya’ though. It’s supposed to help your breathing.”

“You guys take care of each other,” Charlie says, smiling fondly and hanging Angel the mug. The steam from the tea immediately makes his nose tickle, and he groans internally. At least the water diluting the stuff would make it easier to bear. 

“Thanks Charlie, we will,” he says, offering her a small smile and scrunching his nose up a bit. He shuts the door with his foot in a bit of a hurry, really wanting to set the tea down before he starts sneezing, so he doesn’t spill.

He almost makes it to the nightstand when his breath starts to hitch. Husk, noticing, quickly reaches forward and takes the mug from him, preventing him from burning himself. He manages to give the man a grateful little nod before hurriedly pulling out his handkerchief and turning away.

“ hahh …hatchu! ehhshu! ihh ..ihh-tchu! chu! Fuck, scuse’ mbe,” he sniffles, blowing his nose a little. 

Husk is looking at him with concern when he turns back around, his nose a little pink. 

“Are you getting worse?” The other man asks, tugging Angel closer and tucking a stray piece of hair out his eyes. “Maybe I should take your temperature…”

“It’s ah. It’s not mby cold, I pr~ hh ~ombise,” he says breathily, the smell already bothering him again. “Ihh t’s the…tea…I’m—ehhshu! snniff . Fuck. I’m…slightly allergic to it. S’ got mint an’ eucalyptus and…g-ginger, heh… heh-chu! hah… hatchu! Oh mby god,” he coughs a little. Husk instantly lets go, allowing him to step back from where the tea sits on the nightstand. 

“Fuckin’ hell Angel,” Husk curses, “why’d you have Charlie bring it in here!?”

Angel laughs a little, rubbing his nose. 

“I figured y’ should drink it before bedtime, might help you breathe easier when ya’ sleep. Plus, I promised you a drink, if the doc okayed it. S’ not a b hh ig deal, r-r hh eally,” he manages to get out, knowing he doesn’t sound all that convincing as he’s forced to break off with another—

“hgtx! chx! heh… heh-tchu! ehhshu! Fucgking hell, I prombise I’m fide,” he mutters, shaking his head a little. “I think mby cold is just…mbaking mby nose more…s hh enative. 

Husk, looking equal parts worried, guilty, and slightly flustered, grabs the tea off the nightstand.

“I’ll drink fast,” he says, bringing the cup to his lips. 

“T hh ake your time,” Angel waves him off, eyes fluttering closed again as he fights to get a complete sentance out. “I’m going t-to…to ch-change..hah…hah-tchu! hahtchu! snniff . Ooo, those were strong,” he coughs, blinking a few times before moving to grab his pjs and head into the bathroom. He can feel Husk’s eyes on him, watching him with concern…and a little fascination. Angel smirks a bit before shutting the door, shaking his head. Husk having the same kink as him was almost too perfect.

By the time he finishes changing and getting ready, Husk has finished the tea, his eyelids blinking, fighting to stay awake as he slumps back on the pillows. 

“Aw,” Angel coos, unable to help himself at the sweet sight. “Was the drink good?”

Husk nods sleepily, rolling to face him. 

“Mhm. It…did help,” he admits, and Angel is pleased to hear that his wheezing actually does sound a bit improved. “And the bourbon was a nice treat,” Husk adds, smiling. “I…thanks. For…taking such good care of me.”

Angel smiles, coming around to crawl in bed beside Husk and wrapping him in his arms while spooning him from behind, humming happily at the closeness. 

“Just returning the favor,” he murmurs softly, planting a kiss right between Husk’s ears and resting his chin there. The two almost drift off like that, but Angel’s nose has other ideas. He huffs frustratedly as the tickle flutters to life again, sitting up a bit so he can turn away just enough. 

“ heh …hehchuh! mmchuh! ehh …ehh-tchu! Mm, scuse’ mbe again, sorry,” he mutters sleepily, returning to his place pressed against Husk’s backside. 

“It’s…bless you,” Husk says softly, his voice going up several octaves. “Is it…is it really still bothering you, even now that it’s empty?”

“Unfortunately,” Angel sighs, wrinkling his nose a little. “Scents like that really set me off, even little traces of em’. S’ fine, I’ll just be a little sneezy. M’ used to it.”

“Oh. Well that’s…you…okay,” Husk practically squeaks, and from where their bodies are touching Angel can feel the arousal pooling in Husk’s abdomen.

He giggles. 

“Husk,” he says teasingly, “are you turned on right now?”

Angel can feel the heat coming off Husk’s face and neck as the other man buries his face in the pillow out of embarrassment.

“Maybe,” he mumbles, voice muffled, and Angel laughs. 

“As cute as that is, that’s not exactly the goal here. Maybe I should sleep in my room—“

“Nooo,” Husk whines, rolling over to face Angel, his cheeks still pink. “Please stay. I’ll behave, I promise.”

Angel laughs. 

“I am loving this role reversal,” he admits coyley. “Usually I’m the one that can’t keep my hands to myself. S’ you who wants to be all proper and gentlemen like.”

Husk flushes, looking down shyly. 

“Yeah well. S’ hard when I’m sleepy and you’re layin’ here all gorgeous and shit. Spooning me right up against my fuckin’ ass,” he scowls, and Angel giggles harder. 

“I was trying to be sweet and let you be the little spoon, since y’ seemed to like it so much at the hospital.”

Husk flushes even darker at that. 

“How the fuck d’ you know that?” he scoffs, looking embarrassed. “You a mind reader or somethin’?”

“Readin’ body language is my job baby,” Angel says with a wink. “You ain’t always as cool and mysterious as ya’ think.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought of myself as cool or mysterious,” Husk snorts, but he rolls back over and snuggles into Angel’s embrace, giving a happy sigh. It ends with a tiny cough, but Angel will take what he can get. 

“Hmm. Well, I for one, always thought you were very cool and mysterious,” he replies, giving Husk a tiny nip on his ear. He feels Husk squirm a little and relishes in the way that a tiny touch like that can make his partner feel so much pleasure…he isn’t numb to those little fore-playing gestures the way Angel himself often is. 

“Hey now,” Husk growls. “That’s no fair. Y’ can’t make me promise to behave an’ then pull shit like that.”

Angel smiles. 

“Sorry, sometimes I can’t help it. You’re just so cool and mysterious.”

This makes Husk laugh, loudly and fully, in that way that only Angel can seem to make him. The sound makes Angel’s bones sing , until Husk breaks off coughing harshly, forced to sit up a bit and catch his breath. 

“Quit makin’ me laugh Leg’s,” he chuckles dryly, smiling a bit. “Y’ might kill me.”

“Alright alright,” Angel concedes, rubbing Husk’s back soothingly and helping him ease back down into his arms.  “I promise no more funny business. I ahh…I can’t promise no more sneezing though,” he admits sheepishly. “Still got a little bit of a cold. S’ that gonna be a problem?”

Husk shakes his head, his eyes already closed. 

“S’ much as I like them, I think I’m about to pass out,” he yawns sleepily, that last harsh fit seeming to have used up his remaining energy. Angel rubs his shoulders fondly, trying not to worry too much about the rasp in the other man’s voice. 

“Goodnight Husk,” he whispers, settling in beside the other man, his voice suddenly tight with emotion. “I’m…I'm really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too kid,” Husk sighs, bringing Angel’s arm in close to his chest and holding it there, allowing Angel to feel his heartbeat. “Me too.”

[coolbeans18]

TW: Mentions of SA and Abuse, take care!

 

The L Word -- Chapter 5

Angel had been gone for three days and counting. 

And Husk was counting. 

His days had become reduced to holding his breath in between texts from his partner, his messages bringing a moment of brief reprieve before Husk was instantly nauseated with worry once more. 

It was the second week since Husk had been released from the hospital. And just like he’d promised, Angel had taken an entire week off from work while Husk was on bed rest, waiting on him hand and foot. Husk had thrown a fit about it for the first two days, his nerves frying every time Angel's phone lit up. The texts and calls from Valentino kept piling up, and finally, after Husk had nearly put himself back in the hospital in his pleading with Angel to go back to work, Angel had picked up his phone and called Valentino. He'd old him, quite loudly,  in front of Husk , that he was taking the week off, and if the overlord didn’t like it, he could go fuck himself. 

That shut both Husk and Valentino up, for the time being. 

Husk had to admit; having Angel home with him all week had been pure bliss. Granted, it had been a learning curve. At first he’d felt guilty and incredibly embarrassed, needing Angel to do almost everything for him; administering medicine, getting him food, helping train the new folks at the bar, taking over several of Husk’s chores. He fluffed Husk’s pillows, monitored him in the shower, even brought him changes of clothes from his dresser to his bed, a total of two feet. 

It had been mortifying; until Husk realized Angel liked it. Husk had been sulking after he’d lost his breath yet again, Angel having been forced to help him from the shower to the bed. He’d been apologizing profusely before Angel finally lost it and cut him off with a kiss, right on the mouth, and said, “Husk, you fucking moron. I don’ mind helpin’ ya’ out. As much as I…want ya’ to be well, I…I kind of…like this, okay?” His cheeks had turned bright red at the admission, and Husk had just stared at him, not fully understanding. Angel sighed. 

“I told you that I…that I like caretaking. More than like it, it's a…it’s a kink of mine. Not that I’m. Getting pleasure from you feeling like shit, I wish you felt okay, but getting to erm. To help you and…and care for you? I…m’ actually kind of enjoyin’ it. In…more ways than one.” He’d chuckled nervously, averting his eyes. It took Husk a moment to comprehend what the other man had said; seeing Angel get flustered talking about this kind of stuff made him oddly smug. Angel Dust, shy about a kink. It made Husk want to do wicked, wicked things to him. Unfortunately, at the time, he hadn’t been able to. 

Knowing Angel was enjoying the caretaking did make it all a little easier for Husk to swallow. But after a week being stuck in bed he was excited to be back working the bar. Sadly, his going back to work meant Angel had to as well.

Husk had been prepared that first night, knowing Angel would likely be in rough shape when he came home from the studio. He’d made sure the bandages were stocked, made Charlie and Vaggie promise to steer clear of the lobby after midnight so the other man could enter unseen, but ensured they kept their phones on in case he needed their help. 

He’d cleaned up at the bar, letting his new coworker go home early, made Angel a drink in case he wanted it, and waited. 

But Angel never came home. 

Instead, Husk got a text from his boyfriend at 11:30, informing him that Val wanted him to stay the night. It was phrased as an apology, and accompanied by a little heart emoji and a request that Husk take care of himself. Husk knew that the emoji and the casual language were meant to reassure him, to try and not cause worry. He also knew that it was a lie. While Val keeping Angel overnight wasn’t uncommon, Husk knew that this time was different; this time was surely a punishment for Angel having taken a week off. 

Husk had forced himself to swallow his anxiety, knowing there was nothing he could do. He’d tossed and turned that night, unable to get any real sleep. He kept picturing Angel, in bed with that fucking snake. 

In the morning, he’d been up at 4am, unable to refrain from texting Angel and asking if he’d be home soon; the other man usually tried to sneak out early before Val was awake. To his dismay, he’d received a reply almost instantly, and it was not what he’d been hoping for. 

stuck here, he wants me 4 more AM shoots. b home as soon as I can, go back 2 sleep 😘

Stuck? Husk had thought. The hell did that mean? At least the other man was texting him, which meant he was conscious and coherent. This did little to assuage the variety of awful scenarios that flashed through Husk’s mind, picturing the various ways Valentino was managing to physically keep Angel from leaving work. Husk knew something was wrong. 

Need us to come bust u out???

The reply was nearly instantaneous.

NO. just the usual bs. will call if I need help, promise.

Fat chance, Husk had thought, huffing through his nose. Angel would never concede to anyone coming and interfering while he was at the studio. Not after that first incident with Charlie. Not only had it just made everything worse for his boyfriend, but Angel had later confessed that he’d been terrified of Val hurting his friend. Husk had pointed out that Charlie could probably smite Valentino on the spot, but this hadn’t seemed to help much. Angel had just shaken his head, his eyes far away. 

“You don’ know him,” he’d said quietly, voice barely a whisper. “Don’ matter how powerful she is, he’d…he’d find some way to hurt her. Ta’ hurt all of you.”

Those words had dashed any hope Husk had that his partner would ever ask for help with his job, no matter how badly he might need it.

So Husk waited. 

They sent a few memes back and forth, on Angel’s little breaks in between shoots. Husk had tried calling him on what was usually his boyfriend's lunch break but had been sent straight to voicemail. Angel texted him a “sorry, busy” a bit later and Husk had resisted the urge to throw his phone in frustration. 

When evening rolled around and his boyfriend still wasn’t home, he’d called Cherri. He needed someone to drink with, someone who was more experienced in these fucked situations than he was. Cherri had tried to assure him that this wasn’t exactly uncommon. She said that as punishment Val would either keep Angel for ridiculously long hours, or hurt him, not both. His time in the studio was brutal no doubt but it also indicated that he was likely safe…well, not safe, but free of any serious injuries. Val needed him in decent condition to be using him for all these shoots.

Husk tried to believe her, he really did. But when Angel texted him again saying he still wasn’t coming home, he felt himself start to lose it.  Everything in him was screaming for a good blackout, to be so wasted he couldn’t see or talk or think. But that meant risking being unable to take care of Angel when he did return home. So he forced himself to stay lucid. From the sound of Angel’s texts, he was still sober, and while Husk didn’t know how Angel was resisting, he’d be damned if his boyfriend, the one who was actually going through the bullshit, stayed strong while he, the one who was just worrying about said bullshit, fell off the wagon. 

However, as another day came and went, with Angel’s texts growing farer and fewer in between, Husk’s resolve was wearing thin. He’d had counseling with Charlie that day and had essentially had a mental breakdown in the poor girl's office, throwing up in her trash can from sheer anxiety. He knew Charlie was also worried about Angel; yet somehow she was keeping it together while Husk was here being a shaking, blubbering mess. 

Charlie had been almost too kind, telling him this behavior was normal, that it just showed how much he loved his partner. This did little to help, as sweet as it was. It really just served as a reminder to Husk why he’d sworn off anything resembling love for a long, long time. Caring so much for someone meant vulnerability, meant weakness, and Hell didn’t leave much room for those things. Sometimes, in moments like this, Husk wondered if finally confessing his feelings to Angel had been a mistake. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t still have them, but he’s certain Angel wouldn’t have stayed home all week looking after him if he and Husk were still just friends…and Husk himself certainly wouldn’t be sitting in Charlie’s office having a panic attack out of concern for the other man. It was insane, how quickly his feelings for Angel had consumed him over the last month. 

Now, at 1 in the morning on the third day since Angel had left for work, Husk remained seated behind the bar, his hands fisted in his hair, staring at his cellphone and praying to any higher power to receive a text back. The last response had been at 9pm and it had been a short “gtg” message from Angel. 

But his phone remained silent, and as the minutes ticked by, Husk could slowly feel his sanity slipping through his fingers. He knew that doing something rash, something impulsive, wouldn’t help anyone, but sitting here, like this, doing nothing? He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. 

He had about 30 more seconds of restraint left before he planned to go barge into Valentino’s studio and wreak havoc, when Charlie appeared at the top of the stairs. She was on the phone with someone, someone loud— Husk could hear them from all the way down here. As he took in Charlie’s expression he knew instantly that something was wrong. The other girl’s face was white, and her mouth was drawn in a tight line, her fists clenched at her sides. She hurried down the stairs as Husk stood and raced over to meet her, his heart pounding.

“—in the middle of my studio, I had to cancel the fucking shoot!” 

Husk could clearly hear the conversation from the other line now, and his stomach fucking dropped as he recongized Valentino’s voice on the other end. 

“I don’t have time to deal with this, come and get him off of my fucking floor NOW,” Val was screeching, “or I’ll throw him out on his pretty ass and let the street have him, damn how much fucking money he makes me.”

“We’ll be there in 10,” Charlie spits, her words sounding like venom, her brow drawn. “Don’t fucking touch him.”

“Talk to me like that again you pretentious little bi—“

Charlie hangs up, cutting Val off mid-sentence. 

“Angel passed out,” she says to Husk flatly, grabbing the man’s hand and already leading him out the door. “Val can’t be bothered to pay for a fucking ambulance so he called me. Let’s go, we’re going to pick him up.”

Husk doesn’t need to be told twice. He follows Charlie out the door, and is about to take off towards the studio when Charlie’s hand stops him. 

“No,” she says firmly. “We’re taking the car. You’re not supposed to fly for another week, getting yourself stuck in the hospital again isn’t going to help Angel. Besides, if you go swooping in there, Val will know something is going on between you two. That’ll make Angel’s life a living hell. Come on.”

Husk bites down on his tongue so hard it draws blood. He knows Charlie is right but that doesn’t make this any easier. He is grateful that at least one of them is able to think logic, coherent thoughts right now. 

The driver is off for the evening so Charlie gets behind the wheel and takes off, driving at speeds Husk didn’t know she was capable of. She honks and cusses and essentially steam rolls her way over to the studio, something Husk would’ve found hilarious coming from his usually obnoxiously sweet friend, had the circumstances been different. 

They arrive at the studio in 8 minutes, and Charlie slams on the breaks, throws the car into park and gets out, throwing an utterly terrifying “stay here,” to Husk as she slams the door and marches into the building, her demon form emerging and causing her to grow nearly 6 inches. 

Husk sits there, in the car, on the street, at night, and waits. Again. 

Five minutes go by and he can’t stand it anymore, having to get out of the car and release some nervous energy somehow. He ends up punching out the rear view mirror of the limo, bloodying his knuckles on the glass. Whoops. He’ll apologize to Charlie later. He forces himself to slow his heartbeat, realizing a slight wheeze has begun in his chest as he’s been breathing hard; from nerves, from anger, from this crippling feeling of sheer helplessness. 

He leans against the car and balls his fists in his pockets, his ears ringing. What had happened? Was Angel hurt? How badly? He should have said damn the future consequences and come and gotten Angel out of this hell hole after that first rejected phone call. If Angel wasn’t alright, Husk didn’t know what he’d do. 

As he wrestles with everything he should’ve done differently, the front doors of the Vee’s tower swing open, revealing Charlie and one other person who Husk recognized as Alice, one of Angel’s coworkers. Between them, being supported by the two girls and only half conscious, is Angel. His eyes flutter rapidly and his head lolls to the side, his breathing erratic and shallow. He’s wearing some dark purple latex getup, likely the outfit he’d been wearing on set when he’d collapsed. His legs shake something awful and he groans a bit in pain as the two girls half drag him through the front doors.

Husk can’t help himself; he runs to them. He knows he shouldn’t, Val could be watching from one of the windows, but he doesn’t care. He forces himself to stop just short of the three figures, reaching out to cup Angel’s face with his palm. This rouses the other man just slightly, and Angel blinks at him sleepily.

“Hey Whiska’s” he says dryly, his voice barely a whisper, his words slurred and heavy. 

“What happened?” Husk demands, looking at Charlie and Alice. “Is he high? What’s going on?”

“He’s sick,” Alice replies, her mouth drawn in a tight line as she adjusts Angel’s weight around her shoulders. “He has been for days. Came in with a little cold that got real bad, real fast. Val’s been working him like a dog which isn’t helping. He’s got a fever of 104. But Val made him keep working till he passed the fuck out in the middle of a shoot. Though…he might be high too. I think Val might’ve given him some shit, trying to…keep him going.”

Husk curses. Angel had swore to him that the chill he’d caught walking home in the blizzard that night had abated. Evidently not. 

“Don’ be mad,” Angel murmurs, his head slumping on Charlie’s shoulder, sweat beading on his brow. Husk isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to. “Thought I could…hold out, least’ till…he let me...come home…”

He talks through closed eyelids, his face flushed with fever and his babbling jumbled and incoherent. Husk feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to his heart. He swallows back tears, determined to keep it together. 

“M’ not mad Angie,” he says softly, giving the other man’s shoulder a squeeze. Though he isn’t sure if the other man can really perceive his words.

“Get him in the back with me,” he tells Charlie, his voice wavering. “We’ll take him to the hospital.”

“No need,” Charlie huffs, lugging Angel over to the car as Husk opens the door. “I have more elixir at the hotel. It’ll help him more than anything they can give him.”

With some difficulty, Charlie and Alice manage to maneuver the taller man into the back of the car, knocking his lanky knees and elbows a bit. 

Angel ends up sprawled out in the back rather ungracefully, his head cradled in Husk’s lap, his long limbs bent awkwardly, half falling off the seat. Husk does his best to situate the other man in a way that is a bit more comfortable, carefully holding him close against his chest. As he adjust Angel's limbs, the limp, lifeless weight of them makes Husk's chest seize up with fear.

Husk gives Alice, who looks on worriedly, a stiff nod of thanks. 

“We’ll take good care of him,” he hears Charlie say to her, before hurriedly getting behind the wheel. 

“Drive,” Husk says through grit teeth, and Charlie meets his eyes in the rear view mirror, giving a short nod.

The ride home much resembles the ride out, chaotic and heated but most importantly, fast. Husk does his best to keep Angel from rolling onto the floor as Charlie veers around tight corners. Angel drifts in and out of consciousness throughout the trip, often waking himself with tiny, tired sneezes that make Husk’s heart ache. He resorts to cradling Angel’s head in the crook of his elbow, like a baby, to keep him propped up and breathing easier. The poor man is very congested, though thankfully it doesn't seem to have spread to his chest or lungs. 

“Husk?” Angel whispers quietly at one point, his eyes still screwed shut, his breathing labored. 

“I’m here Angel,” Husk whispers, taking the other man’s hand. Angel opens his eyes and upon seeing Husk, he smiles.

“D’ you…comb an’ rescue me?” Angel mumbles, sniffling a little and giving a sleepy giggle that makes Husk smile despite the situation. 

“Sure kid,” he murmurs, tucking a stray hair behind Angel’s ear. “If that’s how you wanna look at it.” 

“Mmm, so…chivalrous,” Angel giggles, patting the top of Husk’s head. He struggles to pronounce the last word properly, his fevered brain not able to handle more than a few syllables at a time. Husk rolls his eyes, his cheeks turning a little red despite knowing Angel is just spewing nonsense. 

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, pressing a little kiss to Angel’s knuckles which make the other man give a little whine. 

“Stooop,” Angel slurs, his face turning pink as he covers it with his free hands. “You’re so…fucgking cute, s’ ndot fair. Can’dt be all…sweet an’ sexy an’ ndice wh-while I~ heh !~look like… ehh …hehtchuh! mm-chuh! snniff , ugh, like thdis,” he gestures halfheartedly to himself, making a little face. Husk huffs, his chest tightening a little in concern at how congested his boyfriend sounds.

“You’re beautiful Angie, as always,” he murmurs quietly, pointedly ignoring the puppy eyes Charlie is giving the two of them from the front seat. “M’ just sorry you feel so bad. We’re gonna get you all better okay?”

“Mmm, allllll better,” Angel slurs, curling into Husk’s chest and giving a little shiver. 

At this point, Charlie screeches into the hotel driveway, pulling right up to the front door. She gets out, yelling for Vaggie, who comes bustling outside a moment later, in her nightgown and slippers. Taking in the sight of Angel, slumped over on Husk’s lap, she immediately springs into action, helping Husk and Charlie to maneuver the poor man out of the car. Before Husk can even exit himself, Vaggie has scooped Angel up, bridal style. 

“No,” she says to Husk pointedly, cutting him off before Husk can even offer his assistance. “I'm gonna do the heavy lifting. You are in no condition to carry him up the stairs right now. Come on, follow behind us.”

Husk, begrudgingly, does as he’s told, trailing behind Vaggie and reaching to take Angel’s hand which hangs limply at his side. As they begin their way up the stairs, the slight jostling rouses Angel, and he groans, blinking sleepily. 

Upon stirring, he sees Vaggie, carrying him, and wrinkles his nose. 

“Where’s Husk?” He whines, making a distinctly dissatisfied face. Vaggie rolls her eyes. 

“You’re welcome asshole,” she mutters, glancing at Husk over her shoulder. “Your boyfriend is right behind us.”

At this, Angel cranes his neck, painfully, trying to get a look. In this state, he can hardly lift his head, and Husk comes to stand right beside him, sandwiching Vaggie in between them. 

“I’m right here baby,” he says softly, his voice cracking a little. “M’ sorry I can’t carry you.”

“Noooo,” Angel slurs, trying (but failing) to bring his finger to Husk’s lips to shush him, instead succeeding in poking the shorter man in the eye. “Don’ say sorry. I know you…gotta rest. Poor Husky and his broken lungs,” he coos, frowning, putting a worried hand on Husk’s chest. Husk resists the urge to roll his eyes. Even in this state, Angel’s fevered brain manages to be worried about him . 

“Okay,” Vaggie says snappishly, shrugging Husk off. “You can fawn over each other once he’s in his own bed. Get off .”

Reluctantly, Husk does as he’s told, continuing to hold Angel’s hand as they ascend the stairs. Angel frowns as Husk is no longer visible, looking disappointed and a bit panicked.

“Where’d he go?” he cries, his breathing becoming more erratic. 

“Angel, he’s right behind us, I promise,” Vaggie tries to assure him, continuing up the stairs. “He’s holding your hand right now.”

Angel gazes at his friend suspiciously, frowning a bit, feeling around for Husk’s hand with his own, tracing the other man’s knuckles, his claws. When he realizes the hand he’s holding is in fact a familiar one, his eyes grow wide and a dopey grin spreads across his face.

“Huussk!” He exclaims, giggling a little. “It IS you!”

“Jesus Christ, is he high?” Vaggie asks, frowning. “What's wrong with him?” 

“He’s sick,” Charlie chimes in, trailing behind them anxiously, opening the door to Angel's room for Vaggie as Angel refuses to let go of Husk’s hand. “He needs an elixir to bring the fever down.”

“That explains why his skin is on fucking fire,” Vaggie says, sighing. With a grunt, she deposits Angel on his bed, and Husk winces as it causes the other man to cough a bit. 

“Vaggieee,” Angel calls before the other girl can leave his side, taking her wrist and tugging her close to him. “Thanks. Fa’ carryin’ me. It was gross. But sweet. You're...one a' the good ones.” 

Husk watches in a mix of horror and amusement as Angel actually pinches Vaggie’s cheeks affectionately, causing the other girl to scowl and swat his hand away.

“Okay, your turn,” she glowers, switching places with Husk, allowing him to step up to the bed. 

Upon seeing Husk, Angel’s face breaks out into a big grin. 

“Heya Legs,” Husk says softly, giving Angel’s hand a squeeze. 

Angel returns it, though his grip is startlingly weak, and the smile fades from his face as a bout of chills hits him, making his entire frame tremble. 

“H-Husk,” he mutters, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I don’…f-feel so good.”

Husk gives a sharp inhale, forcing himself not to cry. 

“I know baby,” he murmurs quietly, placing a gentle kiss on Angel’s burning forehead. “Charlie is coming with medicine right now,” he tries to assure his boyfriend, who is trembling something awful. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

“Mm,” Angel manages to mumble, his eyes already closing again, unable to stay awake for more than a few seconds. He seems utterly spent, his whole body completely exhausted from three straight days without rest.

As Charlie comes back in with the elixir, it pains Husk to have to wake Angel again, but seeing his partners eyes flitting dangerously back and forth behind his eyelids, his brow covered in sweat, he forces himself to cup his boyfriend's cheek, trying to rouse him as gently as possible. 

“Angie,” he murmurs, giving Angel’s shoulder a small shake. “Wake up sweety. Charlie’s got medicine for you.”

Angel’s eyes flutter open, slowly at first, then all at once, wide with panic. He shoots up in bed, his chest heaving, his long limbs splaying out in panic. He narrowly misses Charlie, who dodges to avoid spilling the elixir. 

“Please don’t,” Angel chokes out, thrashing a bit, trying to get Husk’s arms off of him. Husk let’s go immediately, pulling back in alarm. 

“Angel,” he says softly, trying to get the man’s attention as his feverish eyes flit around wildly, not seeming to realize where he is. 

“W-where is he?” Angel asks, voice shaking, his eyes still roaming the room in a hectic pattern. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean t’ fall asleep, please don’ tell him…”

“Where’s who, Angel?” Charlie asks, kneeling down, looking concerned. 

Angel doesn’t respond, his gaze still unfocused and afraid. 

“Let’s give him the medicine,” Husk says, unsure what Angel is experiencing right now but knowing the elixir will help.

He takes the steaming mug and brings it to Angel’s lips, not trusting the other man and his shaking hands not to spill. 

“Here baby,” Husk murmurs, cautiously placing a gentle hand on his lover's back. “I need you to drink this for me—“

“No!” Angel shouts suddenly, shrinking back from Husk, from the offered elixir, cowering. 

“Please,” he whimpers, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. “Please don’—don’ make me—m-make me t-take anythin’, I—I’ll do whateva’ he wants, I s-swear, he doesn’t need ta’…m’ okay, I can k-keep goin’, d-don’—please ,” he cries, choking a little on his own breath. 

Husk, with a sinking heart, realizes what’s happening before anyone else. 

“He thinks he’s still at Val’s,” Husk mutters to Charlie and Vaggie, fighting to keep his absolute rage in check. “Thinks we’re trying to drug him.”

Vaggie’s expression darkens, and she crosses her arms, looking almost as angry as Husk. Almost. 

“I’m guessing Val tried to force shit on him when he found out he was under the weather,” she says bitterly, clicking her tongue. “To keep him…performing.”

Charlie lets out a sigh, fidgeting anxiously. 

“What do we do?” She asks, biting her lip. “He has to drink this, but we can’t force feed it to him. He could spill it.”

Husk grits his teeth, his stomach roiling with anxiety. He forces himself to take a deep breath, and tries to position himself in front of Angel, to catch the other man’s gaze. 

“Angel,” he says, a bit forcefully, trying to lock down the other man’s attention. He is somewhat successful, Angel meeting his eyes, though still shooting fleeting glances at the door, as if expecting someone to come barging in. 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here,” he whispers to Husk, his voice tight with fear. “If he f-f-finds you here he’ll…he’ll h-hurt you, I… ehh …ehhtchu! ihh …ishhuh!” He gives a little whimper in pain as the sneezes wrack his frame, causing him to bend at the waist. 

“I—I’mb sorry,” he says immediately afterwards, scrambling backwards a little bit, his face going white with fear. “I’mb…not supposed to do thatd, I’mb…. H-husk, you h-hafta l-leave, p-please—“

“Angel,” Husk says firmly but tenderly, risking taking the other man’s hand, hoping to ground him. Angel winces a bit at the touch at first, but it does get his attention, and he meets Husks eyes, breathing hard. 

“Angel, you’re not at the studio anymore,” Husk says slowly, desperately hoping the other man is lucid enough to heed him. “You’re home, at the hotel, with me, an’ Vaggie, an’ Charlie,” he stresses. “Valentino isn’t here. He’s far away, he cannot hurt you anymore. Do you understand?”

Angel, looking apprehensive, pauses a moment, studying Husk’s face, his chest rising and falling sporadically. 

“I…are you sure?” He whispers, looking as if he dare not believe it. Husk gives his hand a squeeze. 

“Yes baby, I’m sure,” he affirms, slowly moving a bit closer to Angel. “I would never lie to you Angie, you know that. You’re here with me. You are safe .”

“I…I’m safe,” Angel replies, though it sounds like more of a question. As if sensing he can be of some help, Fat Nuggets makes his appearance, having woken from his slumber and trotting up onto the bed, sitting himself right in Angel’s lap. 

“See?” Husk says as Angel instinctively wraps his arms Nuggs. God does Husk love that little pig. “Nuggs is here. In your bedroom. You’re home baby.”

Angel lets out a shaky sob of relief, pulling Nuggs close and gripping Husk’s hand tightly with his own. 

“It’s o-over?” He sobs, trembling. “H-he let me go?”

“Yes Angie,” Husk says, blinking a few times. Him crying won’t help anything. “You were sick, so he let us come get you. It’s all over now. We’re gonna take care of you okay? But, you have to drink this elixir Charlie made for you. I took it once before, remember that? It’s completely safe; it’s gonna help us get that fever down.” 

Angel eyes the mug Husk is offering him warily, sighing a little before reluctantly allowing it to be brought to his lips. He takes a little sip, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise as the stuff runs down his throat in a soothing manner. 

“See?” Husk says softly, allowing himself to tuck a sweaty lock of hair behind Angel’s ear. “S’ good right?”

“Mmhm,” Angel hums pleasantly, letting his eyes flutter closed and his hands wrap around Husk’s on the outside of the mug. 

Husk lets out a sigh of relief, coming to sit beside Angel so he can continue to help him drink. 

“I’ve uh, I’ve got this from here guys,” he says quietly to Charlie and Vaggie. “I’ll text if we need anything but, I think he’ll want some privacy when he comes back to his senses.”

Charlie nods, looking physically pained at the sight of Angel, barely coherent, struggling to sip the elixir with shaking hands. Vaggie takes her girlfriends hand and leads her out the door, throwing Husk a worried glance as they leave.

“Just holler for us okay?” She makes him promise, and Husk does, trying to give a reassuring nod. The door closes behind the two girls and then it’s just Angel, Husk and Fat Nuggets. 

“This stuff…tastes like… how…LSD…feels,” Angel murmurs sleepily in between sips of the magic medicine. Husk chuckles at that, wrapping a wing around his boyfriend's shoulder for warmth. 

“Yeah, it’s the best,” he agrees, moving in a bit closer as Angel continues to shiver a bit. He finishes the drink in silence, the only sounds being Angel’s occasional sniffles and the slight wheeze in Husk’s breath. 

When he finishes, Husk gently extracts himself from his boyfriends side, taking the mug and depositing it on the bedside table. 

“Do you want a shower or a bath?” Husk asks, as Angel blinks tiredly. 

“Sleep,” he pleads, flopping backwards on the bed, closing his eyes and bringing his hand to his forehead, wincing a little from the headache there. 

Husk would give literally anything if it meant Angel never had to feel like this again. 

“I know baby,” he says softly, coming to gently massage the other man’s temples. He’s been doing this more as of late, helping Angel relieve the headaches he always seems to have after long shifts. “But you really need to get clean first. You’ve got um…some shit on you.” Husk uses this to summarize the various messes that adorn Angel’s body, the sweat from his fever, some caked glitter from a shoot, the blood and...other substances that Husk can see peeking out from between his legs.

“Sides,” he says, trying to sound convincing as Angel whimpers a little. “Don’ you wanna get into some nice fresh pj’s? You don’ need t’ wake up smelling like that place.”

At this, Angel sighs a little, but manages to shakily pull himself into a sitting position. 

“Okay,” he agrees, his voice hoarse and cracking. Husk, not wanting to waste any time, stands up and offers an outstretched hand, hauling the other man to his feet, slinging his arm over his shoulder, supporting him as they hobble their way into the bathroom. 

Husk sits Angel on the edge of the tub, making the executive decision that a bath will be best. He turns it on and lets it fill, shooting a concerned glance over his shoulder as his boyfriend's breath starts to hitch.

“ Heh…ehhh… ” Angel whimpers a little screwing his eyes shut as if trying to will the sneeze away. He’s unsuccessful, finally sucombing to an almost silent stifled fit. 

“ehgx! chx! chx! chx! ihsh!” They come in rapid succession, stifling not doing anything to help alleviate the poor kid.

“Let them out Angie,” Husk says softly, knowing it must be painful. “He’s not here anymore, s’ okay.”

Angel manages to open his eyes briefly, his feverish gaze anxiously trailing around the room as if he doesn’t quite believe Husk. He startles a little bit realizing he’s in his bathroom…Husk sighs. Poor kid couldn’t even remember where he was. 

“ ihh …I-I’mb s~ hh ~orry,” he coughs breathlessly, his eyes fluttering closed again, “I c hh an’t…ehh! ehh-tchu! ahh…ahhh! ahh-tchu! hehshu! ehhshu! ksh-chu! Can’dt hold back,” he finishes miserably, his face turning red with embarrassment as he keeps his hands steepled over his nose, not wanting to reveal the mess there. Husk fishes in his pocket for his handkerchief, offering it to Angel who takes it gratefully, blowing his nose just a little. 

“Don’ apologize ya’ idiot,” Husk says, sighing a little. Angel always came back from work so self-conscious and apologetic. Sometimes he’d return from long shoots and unthinkingly ask Husk for permission to perform basic tasks; to use the bathroom, to eat something, to fall asleep, what have you. 

Husk recalled once, after a particularly rough day, Angel had come home and accidentally dropped a wine glass from the bar. It shattered all over the floor and Husk had thought the poor man was going to hyperventilate, his eyes going wide with sheer terror, his breathing becoming erratic and strained. He’d gotten down on his knees and hurriedly tried to clean the glass up by hand, picking pieces off the floor and apologizing profusely in the process. He’d cut himself on the glass, but hardly seemed to notice, continuing to pick the stuff up even as his own blood stained the ground. And then he’d started apologizing for that , promising he’d clean it up as fast as he could. Husk, not thinking, had grabbed the other man’s injured hands to stop him, and Angel had flinched , immediately bringing his arms up to cover his face, cowering. Husk had let go instantly, obviously, but the look on Angel’s face, the way he’d been so panicked and afraid…it had never left Husk’s memory. He didn’t think it ever would. 

“You can’t help it baby,” he assured his partner, politely averting his eyes so Angel wouldn’t feel so self-conscious. “You’re sick. Do whatever you need to do.”

Angel sniffles a little, glassy eyes still looking reserved and cautious. 

“I…I thought I was better,” he admits quietly. Husk sees him move to fiddle with his gloves, something he’s learned the other man does when he’s anxious, before realizing he isn’t wearing them. He settles for wringing his hands a bit instead. 

“I was feeling fine when I…three days ago,” he coughs a bit, clearing his throat and looking exhausted. “An’ then…”

He trails off, looking away. Husk shuts the water off, glancing at him. Thankfully, his partners eyes have begun clearing a little already, his speech becoming more lucid and less slurred.

“Yeah well. You said this is pretty normal for you. You start feelin’ better an’ then backslide a little. Val workin’ you like a fucking mule definitely didn’t help.”

Angel winces at that, and Husk regrets reminding the other man. 

“C’mon,” he says softly, offering a hand to Angel. “Let’s get ya’ in.” 

Angel flushes then, his back stiffening a little as if he’s realized something. 

“I uh…” he starts, looking nervous. “I don’t have any…any underwear on. Under…this,” he motions to the skin tight spandex suit he’s currently wearing, wincing a little. Husk just nods, standing and giving his boyfriend's hand a tiny squeeze. 

“Let me grab you some okay?” He says, heading towards the door. Angel just nods, eyes cast downward, looking very small. 

Husk hurries over to Angel’s dresser, rummaging around for boxers. Then, thinking better of it, he reaches into his boyfriends lingerie drawer and grabs bikini style bottoms, wanting Angel to be able to clean himself without too much trouble. 

When he brings them back, Angel raises an eyebrow. 

“Fuck off,” Husk growls, his cheeks turning a bit pink. “I just…I figured boxers would make it harder on ya’.”

“Those are certainly gonna make somethin’ harder,” Angel quips, and while Husk rolls his eyes, it relieves him to hear the other man still joking around.

He helps Angel undress, noticing some bruising on the kids collarbone that he hadn’t before. He fights the urge to kick something. Instead, he just gently peels Angel’s sweaty costume halfway off, then politely turns around to let Angel finish the rest.

“Okay,” he hears his boyfriend say, “m’ ready.”

Husk turns back and gingerly helps Angel ease into the water, grimacing as the other man breaks off coughing. 

“Wish I could give you some of that tea the doctor gave me,” Husk mutters. He’d been drinking the stuff all week at Angel’s demand and it had really helped with his cough. Unfortunately for Angel the stuff would just make breathing all the more difficult. 

“Oh god,” Angel says, his nose twitching, his eyes fluttering closed, “d-don’t even… muhh mention thatd st-stuff…ehhshu! hah…hatchu! snniff . Ugh, scuse’ mbe.”

Husk chuckles a little, trying to stay focused after that utterly adorable display. 

“Are you really that suggestable?” He teases, easing Angel the rest of the way into the tub. 

Angel gives a helpless, tired shrug, letting himself sink into the water. 

“Maybe,” he mumbles, his eyes closing, sighing contendely at the warmth. “Mby nose itches s hh oo bad right ndow, spendt ahh …all day trying nodt to…shhneeze!--hehtchuh! kshuh! mm-chuh! Fuck, scuse’ mbe.” 

Husk pointedly ignores the way the back of his neck is growing a little hot, clearing his throat. He feels a little (a lot) guilty getting any kind of enjoyment out of this when he knows Angel feels so terrible. He keeps his hand on the back of Angel’s head, cupping it as the other man can’t seem to muster the strength to lift it on his own. Husk doesn’t want the poor kid to drown. 

“Do you wanna clean yourself, or should I?” He asks quietly, gently using a washcloth to wipe the sweat off of Angel’s brow. 

“Mmm, you please,” Angel hums, his whole body relaxing at the sensation. “Tha’ feels…really ndice.”

Husk obliges, using his free hand to grab some soap and gently wash Angel’s body. He leaves the area between Angel’s legs alone, deciding to let the other man do that himself. When he gets to Angels back and shoulders his boyfriend let’s out a little moan of pleasure and Husk knows that under any other circumstances he’d be hard a fucking rock right now. He’s tracing his hands over Angel’s arms, his back, his torso, his chest…but the heat radiating from his skin keeps Husk grounded in worry. 

“Husk,” Angel says suddenly, opening his eyes. Husk pauses washing, glancing to meet his gaze. Angel's eyes have nearly fully cleared now, the feverish sheen they once held gone, the elixir already working its magic. 

“M’ sorry if I…if I scared you today. An’ the day before. An’….the day before that. 

Husk huffs a little. 

“Christ Angel, you ain’t gonna apologize for that.”

“Mm. I know,” Angel assures him, blinking sleepily, but seeming much more lucid now than he was moments ago. “Jus’…wish I didn’t…hafta drag you in ta’ all this bullshit. He takes Husk’s hand, coming to rest his head on his arm along the ledge of the bath. The pose makes him look utterly adorable; he almost reminds Husk of a Disney Princess. Husk sighs. 

“You ain’t draggin’ me into anything Angel. I get t’ be with you. Everything else is just…background noise, ya’ know?”

Angel smiles a little at that, and nods, blinking sleepily at him as Husk finishes washing, handing the cloth to Angel so he can tend to the more private areas himself. 

“Sides,” Husk says, wanting to keep the other man a bit distracted as washing between his legs is no doubt serving as a reminder of everything that happened. “Charlie says that me worryin’ about you jus’ shows how much I love ya’.”

 

Fuck. 

Husk realizes what he’s said as soon as it leaves his mouth but it’s too late. The words are already out there. 

Fucking Hell. 

Husk seriously considers throwing himself from Angel’s balcony. Why did he say that?!! That was NOT how that confession was supposed to go. It wasn’t supposed to be said casually, like he was talking about sports or the weather or a television show. And he definitely hadn’t planned on saying it after only a month and a half of official dating. 

Husk sits there, frozen, staring at Angel like a deer caught in headlights. 

Angel, for his part, mirrors the expression, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open a little, blinking rapidly. 

“I—you—oh boy,” Angel finally says, breaking the silence between them. 

“Fuck Angel,” Husk scrambles, shimmying backwards a bit and feeling his chest grow tight with anxiety. “Fuck, that wasn’t—I didn’t—-that was nothow I…imagined tellin’ you that,” he finally manages to choke out, rapidly clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. “I just—I wanted—I was so fucking worried about you today, I…I fuckin’ threw up in Charlie’s trash can I was so worried, an’ she was trying to calm me down and make me feel better, and that was the word she used, and so I guess I just started using it too—not that it’s not—not that I’d use a different word, that IS the right word, but I know that—well we both—fuck, that word is really…complicated, for me, for both of us, and I swear I ain’t tryna scare you away or make you feel pressured too—“

“I love you too.”

Husk stops his rambling mid-sentence.

No. Surely he must’ve misheard that. 

“I—what?”

Angel, the fucking bastard, laughs .

“I said , I love you too, you fuckin’ idiot. Christ Husk, you’re my best friend. I loved you even before we were together.”

Husk blinks at him. He keeps opening and closing his mouth, trying to form a sentence, but none come. Angel's words seem to have finally broken his brain. 

“You…are you sure?” He finally blurts, dumbfounded. 

This makes Angel crack up, his head still tilted, leaning on his arm as he gazes at Husk with absolute adoration. Husk almost can’t bear it. 

“Yes, Husk. I’m sure. Course’ I’m sure. Are you?”

“Fuck, yes ,” Husk replies instantly, his cheeks going a little red. He said that way louder than he meant too. “Yes,” he tries again, more quietly this time, coming in close to take Angel’s hand with slightly shaking fingers. “I guess I just…had planned on waiting. Before…blurting it out. I wanted to make sure we were both…ready.”

Angel gives him a small, shy smile, Husks favorite smile. 

“I don’ think ya’ can really plan this kinda stuff Whiskers,” he giggles, giving Husk a peck on the cheek. Husk flushes, and despite the awful circumstances that led to this moment his heart feels like it’s grown wings in his chest. He can’t keep this ridiculous, goofy smile off his face. Angel loves him. Him . In what universe did Husk come to deserve that? He decides he doesn’t care. He’s just going to cherish it. 

Angel sees the look of utter elation and disbelief on his face, and, knowing Husk won’t initiate anything after he’s just returned from the studio, takes it upon himself to pull the other man into a hug. Husk returns it instantly, wrapping his arms around his lover's torso and burying his face in his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he whispers in Angel’s ear, wanting to hear himself say it again. He feels the other man’s arms tighten around him, giving a sharp intake of air at the repeated words, gripping Husk fiercely, so much so it almost hurts. 

The hug lasts for several moments of wonderful bliss before Husk realizes how warm Angel still is. The crook of his neck where Husk’s forehead is buried is hot to the touch, and his lithe frame still trembles with occasional chills. 

Husk forces himself to pull away, reminded of how ill his boyfriend is. Angel frowns at the loss of contact, looking up at Husk, eyes questioning. 

“You’re burning up baby,” Husk says softly, his voice laced with concern. Angel gives a little sigh, sitting back and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he mutters miserably. “Sorry ta’…ruin the moment.”

Husk scoffs. 

“You didn’t ruin anything you dumbass,” he says, rolling his eyes at his boyfriends utter stupidity. “That was one of the greatest fuckin’ moments of my life, even with you feelin’ like shit. I’m just…sorry I blurted it out while you’re so sick. I know you say we can’t plan this kinda shit but I do wish I’d waited till you’re at least lucid.”

Angel's eyes go wide at that, and he hurriedly sits up, bringing his forehead close to Husks, gripping his forearm. 

“I am lucid,” he stresses. “I promise. I mean it Husk, I love you, m’ not jus’…sayin’ it cuz I’m sick.”

Husk chuckles a little, gently easing the other man back down into the water, trying to get him to relax.

“I know Angel,” he says softly, pressing a tender kiss to the other man’s temple. He pauses then, thinking for a moment. 

“Though,” he says, laughing nervously, “maybe you could ah. Repeat it. Once you’re better. Just…for my sake.”

This makes Angel laugh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders and he nods, smiling at Husk fondly. 

“Deal,” he says softly. “But you gotta say it right back.”

“Deal,” Husk echos, reaching down to let the tub drain. He stands, offering Angel his arms and the other man accepts. He hauls Angel to his feet, grimacing at the way his partner's legs shake. Angel leans on him heavily, shivering at the loss of the warm water and Husk bundles him up in a towel as quickly as he can, trying to conserve heat. 

“You know,” he says, trying to take both their minds off of the state Angel is in, “the first time we…when I finally asked if I could kiss you? I was the one who was sick,” he chuckles. “An’ you were…worried I’d done it jus’ cuz I had a fever. We’re kind of a mess that way.”

Angel snorts, allowing Husk to help him out of the tub and shuffle into the bedroom. 

“I don’ know,” he says a little shyly, giving a sleepy sigh as Husk helps him sit down on the bed. “S’…kind of our thing now. I think it’s cute.”

Husk smiles at that, grabbing Angel clean pajamas and carefully helping him dry off.

“Sides’,” Angel continues, yawning a little. “If we wait till we’re both at 100% to do any romantic shit, we ain’t ever gonna get past second fucking base.”

That makes Husk laugh, though it’s unfortunately cut short by a little cough he’s forced to give, turning away from Angel just in time. He winces a bit, as it rattles painfully through his chest. Everything that had happened that evening, coupled with the near panic attack he’d almost had after letting the L word slip, was taking its toll on his still delicate breathing. 

Angel frowns a little, tugging on Husk’s wrist. 

“D’ you need your inhaler?” He asks quietly, and Husk, though loathe to admit it, nods a little, rummaging for it in Angel’s bedside drawer. 

“M’ okay,” he assures the other man, wheezing slightly. “Sorry, jus’ give me a second.”

“Are you eva’ gonna stop apologizing for shit like this?” Angel asks, sounding slightly exasperated. Husk shoots him a sheepish smile. 

“Only when you do.”

That makes Angel scowl, and he crosses his arms, his cheeks going a bit pink. Husk chuckles, taking two brief hits from his inhaler before turning back and helping Angel change into his PJ’s. 

Angel is practically already asleep by the time Husk finishes wrestling the poor kid's last limp arm into its sleeve, his forehead resting against Husk’s chest as he fights to keep his eyes open. Husk pulls back the covers and helps Angel crawl under, pulling them up to his chin and tucking him in.

“A-Are you st-staying?” Angel asks, his teeth chattering a little from the coolness of the sheets. 

“Course’,” Husk says, coming around to the other side of the bed. “If you want me too.”

Angel nods, sleepily, rubbing at his nose a little in the way Husk finds so adorable it hurts. He shivers again, and ducks into his wrist with two tiny, tired sounding sneezes, sniffling a little. Husk hurriedly climbs in beside his boyfriend, wanting to get him warm. He moves to wrap his arms around Angel, before hesitating just a bit. He doesn’t know how much close contact Angel wants right now, thinking back to just a half hour ago when Angel was sure he was still at the studio. 

“You can hold mbe,” Angel murmurs, as if reading Husk’s mind. His voice is just slightly stuffy and his eyes are already closed. “I kdnow I’mb…ndot there anymore.”

Husk exhales a little, and carefully comes to wrap Angel in his embrace, holding him close. His boyfriend's skin already feels cooler to the touch than it did just moments ago. Bless Charlie and her magic potions. 

Angel hums contentedly at the warmth, pulling Husk’s arm in close to his chest and hugging it there the same way one would hug a stuffed animal. Husk chuckles a little, pulling Angel in even closer. 

“I love ya’ kid,” Husk says softly, feeling his own eyelids beginning to droop. The words roll off his tongue now with ease, the phrase seeming like the most natural thing in the world. 

“Mm, love ya’ ol’ man,” Angel replies sleepily, earning himself a tiny pinch, making him giggle. 

The two drift off together, the echoes of their partner's words sending only good dreams.

[snowpiercer]

Another person unfamiliar with the show coming in to tell you how good this is. Especially love the struggle to keep composure in part 1.

[2SHY222]

Just found this and am obsessed 😱🥰. I absolutely LOVE Hazbin Hotel! You write like I'm watching an episode 🥹. Please write more it's sooooooo good 

[coolbeans18]

On 6/27/2024 at 3:59 AM, snowpiercer said:

Another person unfamiliar with the show coming in to tell you how good this is. Especially love the struggle to keep composure in part 1.

Ahhh this is so sweet! Tysm!

[coolbeans18]

On 6/28/2024 at 2:44 PM, 2SHY222 said:

Just found this and am obsessed 😱🥰. I absolutely LOVE Hazbin Hotel! You write like I'm watching an episode 🥹. Please write more it's sooooooo good 

HGGajHz ThIS Is So KIND! TY! LOTS more coming like rn, sorry this past week has been a tad crazy 

[coolbeans18]

Chapter 6- Sei Bello

This entire chapter is literally just smut lol. Enjoy:)

 

Husk’s POV

The walk home was long.

Husk didn’t fly very often, so he was surprised to find how much he missed it, having been forbidden from doing it for a month. 

 

But Fuck, walking everywhere was annoying. And it took fucking forever . Husk was currently walking home from his latest “job” for Alastor…there had been a fuckload of them this past week, Alastor making good on his promise to have Husk “make-up” for all the work he’d missed while on bed rest. Husk had emerged from this latest brush up relatively unscathed, the only real damage being a gash on his arm, but he was anxious to get home. Angel had texted him saying he was already back from the studio, so Husk was trying to hurry.

 

Usually, day after day of whatever bullshit Alastor had assigned him would’ve made Husk wary, melancholy. But today, even as he was forced to walk the seven miles home, Husk had a little spring in his step. His boyfriend was waiting for him at home, and tomorrow was Angel’s day off. They were going to spend it together, starting with brunch, then a trip to the park with Fat Nuggets, and ending with take out and a movie before Husk had to go to work. 

 

Husk had honestly anticipated the possibility that other man might still be bed ridden come Sunday…but Charlie’s elixir seems to have worked it’s magic, and Angel was feeling much improved, his fever gone and most of his other symptoms having abated…save for a few sneezes every now and then. And so long as his boyfriend was feeling well, Husk certainly didn’t mind that…

 

As he approached the hotel lobby doors Husk had to force himself not to speed up; the slow, monotonous pace he was forced to maintain due to his still healing lungs was getting on his nerves. But, given that just 30 minutes ago he’d been wrestling with some shark demon twice his size, he didn’t want to push his luck. 

 

He finally reached the entrance, pushing open the doors and heading straight for his room, wanting to patch himself up and go hug his boyfriend as soon as possible. 

 

He trudged up the stairs, his breathing thankfully maintaining a normal, easy rhythm. Some of the blood from his arm has leaked onto his wing a bit and he huffs, shaking said wing out a little to avoid a mess. 

 

When he opens the door to his room, he’s surprised to see Angel there, lounging on Husk’s bed like he owns it, reading a fashion magazine. 

 

The sight of his partner, looking drop dead gorgeous as always, in his faded jeans and one of Husk’s Queen t-shirts, casually making himself at home in Husk’s bedroom? It makes Husk’s mouth go dry. 

 

At Husk’s entrance, Angel glances at the door, and his face lights up upon seeing Husk. Fat Nuggets is beside him, and the little pig’s face mirrors his owners. As Husk walks in, he’s met with a happy snort as the pink bundle scuttles off the bed to come run excited circles around his feet. 

 

“Hello t’ you too Nuggs,” Husk chuckles, reaching down to scoop the little guy up. 

 

On the bed, Angel grins at them. 

 

“Heya Whiskers,” he says happily, closing his magazine and rolling off the bed with ease, coming to give Husk a kiss on the cheek.

 

“You’ve certainly made yourself at home,” Husk jokes as Angel approaches. His boyfriend’s cheeks flush a little, his eyes flicking upward nervously. 

 

“Yeah well. Your door was shut and Nuggs kept asking t’ come in here. Think he missed ya’. I figured since you let him roam around in here whenever he wants, I’d join him. Is that…okay?” 

 

Husk chuckles at the slightly nervous expression Angel wears. 

 

“Of course. I was jus’ teasin’ ya’. It was a nice surprise.”

 

Angel smiles, giving Husk’s hand a little squeeze, before noticing the cut on his shoulder. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth. 

 

“Yikes,” he grimaces, moving in for a closer look. 

 

“S’ not bad,” Husk assures him, rolling his shoulder a bit. “Just ugly lookin’.”

 

Angel smirks a little, running a gentle hand along the wound. 

 

“Nothin’s ugly on you Husky,” he says a bit seductively, pressing a tender kiss to Husk’s collarbone. “Even all bloodied you’re hot as a heart attack.”

 

Husk rolls his eyes, feeling himself flush a little. 

 

“I think you just like men with scars,” he says pointedly, though he’s not complaining as Angel’s lips trace their way up his neck and along his jaw. “S’ kinda basic of you, honestly.”

 

At that, Angel pulls back, shooting him a glare. Husk tries not to show how disappointed he is by the loss. 

 

“Fuck you very much,” Angel fires back, crossing his arms and turning to grab the first aid kit from under the bed. “Liking scars ain’t that… v-vanilla... heh …hetchu! Mm, s’cuse’ me.”

 

Little annoying butterflies dance around in Husk’s stomach at the one off. It just wasn’t fair, he thought to himself. Angel couldn’t lay on his bed like that, in his t-shirt, looking so domestic and adorable it hurt, and then sneezeon top of it.

 

He forces himself to clear his throat, trying to think pure thoughts. He allows himself to be led (more like dragged) over to the bed and sat down, angling himself carefully so as not to get any blood on the sheets.

 

Angel kneels in front of him, humming a little as he works, taking out bandages and gauze and disinfectant. He tears the wrapping open with his teeth, and Husk can’t stop himself from watching, thinking that he knows first hand what those teeth feel like as they’re tearing into something else…

 

“Nuggs!” Angel exclaims suddenly, snapping Husk out of it. “Give that back!”

 

Husk looks down and chuckles, seeing Angel scramble to get the roll of bandages out of Fat Nuggets mouth as the little pink pig trots around the room, unspooling it across the floor as he goes. 

 

Angel finally manages to snag the little rascal, holding him up at eye level and frowning at him. 

 

“Look what you did,” Angel says pointedly, glaring at the mess of bandages now littering the floor. “Are you h~ hh~happy? Hah …hah-tchu! isshu! sniff . You little bastard. Give me that.”

 

As Angel takes the mostly empty roll out of Nuggs mouth, Husk finds himself trying to remember how to breathe. Something about Angel sneezing casually, mid-sentence, without any of the long, exhausting fits or painful headaches that his colds usually caused…it was making it difficult to concentrate.

 

“Are you uh—” 

 

Husk pauses, clearing his throat a little as his voice comes out a bit higher than normal. 

 

“Are you feelin’ okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Angel says, waving him off and returning to his spot in front of Husk. “I feel peachy, promise, I just…” 

 

His face flushes a little now, turning the most endearing shade of pink. 

 

“I’m always kind of sneezy, even after a cold,” he says, giving a nervous chuckle. “Don’ know why.”

 

What the fuck is Husk supposed to say to that? He opts for a short nod, unsure he’d be able to form coherent words right now anyway. 

 

With his lower set of arms, Angel gingerly takes Husk's wrist and lifts his arm a bit, cradling it tenderly while his upper set of hands reach for the gauze and carefully dab at the wound, cleaning it up a little.

 

A tiny crease forms between his eyebrows as he works, and his nose scrunches up some too, as it always seems to when he’s concentrating. Something about the expression there is making Husk’s heart pound like a fucking jackhammer. He accidentally lets slip a tiny, wavering inhale. Angel glances up at him. 

 

“That hurt?” He asks, withdrawing his hand a bit in concern. Husk manages to give a shake of his head.

 

“I—no,” he says a bit clippedly, not trusting his own voice not to betray the arousal that’s begun pooling in his abdomen. Jesus, what is going on with him? 

 

“M’ almost done,” Angel murmurs, thankfully seeming focused on his work. “Just want to get it to stop bleeding for’ I clean it.”

 

“Mm,” Husk manages in acknowledgment. Something about the tender nature of the other man’s voice, his movements…Angel had ‘taken care’ of Husk plenty of times, but Husk had always been either a bit too sick or a bit too bruised and battered to get much…enjoyment out of it. Appreciation? Definitely. But now, with his body mostly healthy and his brain lucid…fucking hell, Angel tending to him was hot .

 

Husk is almost relieved when Angel pulls out the disinfectant, thinking that at least if he’s sneezing, it’ll take his mind off of the sheer proximity of his doting, loving, sexy boyfriend long enough to prevent him from getting a fucking hard on. 

 

Sure enough, as soon as Angel uncaps the stuff, Husk feels his nose start to tingle a little. He scrunches it up a little, annoyed. Angel notices, and laughs a little. 

 

“I’ll try and do this fast,” he says, hurrying along. “I know this stuff…bothers you. Husk doesn’t miss the slight blush that dusts over his boyfriend’s nose and cheeks and he says this. It makes Husk want to devour him.

 

Angel pours the alcohol over the wound, causing Husk to hiss a little at the stinging sensation. His arm isn’t the only thing that stings though; the smell burns the inside of his nose, and he fumbles for the handkerchief in his pocket as he’s instantly overcome.

 

“ ehh …ehhshuh! huh …hruhshoo! ahh ..AH-choo! Ah fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, his face hot. Even here in the privacy of their room, knowing that his boyfriend definitely doesn’t mind, sneezing still embarrasses him. However, upon glancing up through glassy eyes, he sees that Angel has frozen momentarily, staring at Husk with an absolutely delicious expression. His boyfriend licks his lips just a little and fuck , Husk has to ball his fists at his sides and dig his claws into his palms to keep himself from tearing the other man’s clothes to shreds. 

 

“I uh. Sorry,” Angel finally manages, blinking a little and shaking his head in an utterly adorable manner. He makes quick work with the bandage, albeit a little messy due to the fact that he’s collecting the spool himself from where Fat Nuggets has distributed it all over the carpet.

 

Husk, for his part, continues to sniffle and hitch slightly as the disinfectant smell from Angel’s hands dances around in his sinuses, teasing him.

 

“Fuck, sorry, all done,” Angel says, blowing air out through his cheeks as he pins the bandage into place and sits back. “I’ll ah…let me go an’ wash my hands, get the scent off—“

 

He stands to go, but Husk stops him with a gentle hand on his wrist.

 

Husk blinks down at his own hand. He doesn’t recall giving his body those instructions. Angel is glancing at him, his head tilted with curious surprise. This is rare for Husk; he almost never initiates touch, usually preferring to let Angel be the one to do so, given he has so little autonomy at work. 

 

Husk forces himself to take a shaky breath. 

 

“What if you…didn’t?” He hears himself say softly, his voice wavering a little. He swallows.

 

Angel raises an eyebrow in that deviously handsome way of his. 

 

“Didn’t what?”

 

Husk’s blood is roaring in his ears. For a moment he isn’t sure he can say it out loud. 

 

“Didn’t um. Didn’t wash them,” he breathes. The look on Angel’s face is priceless. Despite his nerves, Husk finds himself smiling.

 

Angel’s POV

At Husk’s words, Angel feels his own eyes grow wide. Suddenly, he finds himself being pulled closer, quickly tugged in so that he stands right between Husk’s legs, gazing down at him.  Husk hadn’t tugged at him forcefully or aggressively, he was Husk …but it wasn’t exactly gentle either. There was an urgency there that Angel had never experienced from the other man before. 

 

 He gives a little gasp of surprise, instinctively wrapping his arms around Husk’s shoulders for balance. The reaction is almost immediate, Husk’s eyes flutter closed, the expression he wears making Angel weak in his damn knees. 

 

He can’t help himself from watching as Husk bends forwards into his handkerchief, his head bobbing against Angel’s chest as he—

 

“Huh-chx! Chgx! Ehh …Eh-choo! Ah-CHOO. sniiff . Fuck, sorry,” Husk says breathlessly, and Angel’s legs have started trembling just a little. Husk catches him staring and looks away, face turning red. Angel immediately takes a small step back.

 

“Husk,” he forces himself to say, still fumbling a little to form words after that…display. “We don’t—we don’t have ta’ um. Do this. If you don’t—I don’t want you t’ feel pressured. Just cuz’ I…like it, don’ mean I want you feelin’ embarrassed. I know this is all…new to you.”

 

Husk huffs a little at that, glancing up and slowly bringing his hand up to wrap around Angel’s thigh and pulling him back in. Any coherency Angel had been clinging to vanishes, and he lets out a little whimper, his breathing suddenly very fast. 

 

“You’ve done it for me before,” Husk murmurs softly, carefully trailing his hand up around Angel’s leg, to his waist. Angel has to physically fist his hands in the back of Husk’s shirt to keep himself upright. Husk has never been this… forward before.

 

“I…I know,” he all but squeaks, reminding himself to breathe. “But that’s…I’m used ta’…ta’ that kinda thing. Used ta’…performing for other people. You don’t have t—“

 

He’s cut off by Husk abruptly standing up and tugging him right up against his chest. Angel lets out a happy little yelp of surprise as his boyfriend rapidly swaps their positions, so fast he almost doesn't register it. Suddenly, it’s Angel who is seated on the bed, with Husk standing over him, looking down and trailing careful fingers over Angel’s shoulders, his collarbone, his neck, almost like he’s is tracing him. Angel feels his breath catch in his throat. His whole body is suddenly flooded with a rush of heat, intense arousal flushing his blood stream; he didn’t think his body was capable of this feeling anymore. 

 

“I want to,” Husk murmurs. From where Angel grips the other man’s forearm, he can feel the vibration of his low baritone voice as he says the words and that does it. Angel fists his hands in Husk’s hair and kisses him. Hard.

 

Now it’s Husk’s turn to let out a little gasp in surprise, but it’s quickly swallowed as he returns the kiss, gripping Angel’s elbows and letting his teeth sink into Angel’s bottom lip just slightly. Angel yanks Husk even closer in response…a little too hard it turns out, as the other man loses his footing, and soon, he’s on top of Angel, the two lying on the bed nose to nose, breathing hard. 

 

“Husk,” Angel hears himself whisper, his voice trembling. 

 

Husk meets his eyes, his pupils dilated, his breath ghosting across Angel’s cheek. 

 

 “ Anthony .”

 

He hears his old name on Husk’s lips and comes undone.

 

Any self control Angel might have possessed unravels like a loose thread and he grabs Husk’s hips and hauls the shorter man onto his lap so he’s straddling him. Husk makes a sound, one Angel has never heard before, something between a gasp and a moan, at the act of being manhandled by someone underneath him. If it were anyone else, a costar, or some client, this would be where Angel would give a signature wicked grin, taking some pride in eliciting a sound like that. But when it’s Husk, the sound just makes his throat go dry, and he tugs the other man down towards his face by his overall straps, capturing his lips once more. 

 

He lets his hands trail up towards Husk’s cheeks, cupping his face gingerly and relishing the weight of the other man on top of him. For once, it’s a good feeling; he doesn’t feel trapped or panicked or tempted to dissociate and let his mind drift far, far away…

 

Right now, he wants to be IN this moment, present, whole, alive . Husk manages to kiss him fiercely and tenderly at the same time, something not even the most skilled stars like Angel himself can do. It’s because this is real , Angel realizes with sudden elation. Husk kisses him with realfeelings, and emotions can’t be faked, as much as Angel might have tried in the past. 

 

All these thoughts flitting through Angel’s mind are cut short as he feels Husk’s breathing start to waiver slightly. They keep kissing, but Angel can hear tiny little hitching breaths, as Husk tries not to sneeze. Angel instinctively starts to lower his hands, realizing that having them on Husk’s face is probably causing this, but before he can, Husk grabs his wrist, holding his fingers in place. Angel whimpers at that, kissing Husk even harder than before, digging his lower hands into Husk’s back, relishing the echoes of that tingling sensation he can feel building in Husk’s body. It’s startlingly similar to another sort of…building climax, and it makes Angel fucking tremble as Husk’s breath continues to hitch against his lips. 

 

Finally, the other man is forced to break away, but he doesn’t turn out of sight as Angel is accustomed to. Instead, he stays right where he is, pressed against Angel’s chest, their legs tangled together, and just slightly tilts his head to the side, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

“ ehh…heh ! heh-choo! ahh…ahh …ah-choo!” 

 

With each one, Husk’s hips move just slightly against his own and Angel doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his entire fucking life. 

 

“Ahh, sorry,” his boyfriend murmurs, blinking a few times as a few sneezy tears pool in the corners of his eyes. His cheeks go bright red, and he looks away, shyly, sniffling a little. Even having volunteered to do this for Angel, knowing how much he'd enjoy it, Husk is still embarrassed, years of social stigma and performance anxiety drilled into his brain. 

 

Angel means to reassure him that he has nothing to apologize for, but words won’t come. The display has rendered him utterly speechless, something he can’t remember ever having experienced before. No matter. He’ll just have to show Husk what he wants to say. 

 

With Husk watching him a bit warily, (probably having some idiotic doubts about what he’d just done), Angel hauls himself into a sitting position and gently wipes a single tear from the corner of Husk’s eye. With his boyfriend still straddling his hips, Angel begins running gentle kisses up along Husk’s collarbone, his jaw, the base of his ear, his cheeks. He feels Husk shudder on top of him, and Angel grins, carefully taking the other man’s hands and guiding them to grip Angel’s own waist. He places tiny kisses on Husk’s forehead, his eyelids, and finally, because he can’t help himself, his little red nose. The reaction is immediate. Husk blinks in surprise, his nose giving an adorable little twitch, once, twice, and then—

 

“isshoo! heh …heh-tchoo!” 

 

Husk, not really having anywhere else to go, ducks down into Angel’s shoulder, just over his back. Angel lets his own eyes close in utter bliss.

 

“Fuck,” Angel hears him say breathlessly, his tone slightly panicked, “I didn’t mean to—“

 

Angel cuts him off with a tender bite right between Husk’s shoulder blade and his neck. With Husk bent over his shoulder this way he has perfect access to that sweet, tender spot. This forces Husk to cut off his own idiotic rambling with a sharp inhale of pleasure. Angel gives the spot special attention for a moment, making his partner whimper. Finally, he pulls back just slightly, satisfied eith the little mark he’s left there. Mine , he thinks, now treated to Husk’s lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, their noses pressed together as they share breath.

 

“Bless you,” Angel says softly, finally finding his voice again. Husk's eyes widen just slightly, in a mixture of disbelief and awe, and Angel can’t help it, he kisses him again, teasing Husk’s lips apart with his tongue so he can devour him the way he really wants to. 

 

Without really meaning to, Angel finds himself toying with the waistband of Husk’s overalls. Husk stiffens a little as he does so and Angel withdraws immediately forcing himself to pull away and meet Husk’s eyes, breathing hard. 

 

“Sorry,” he says immediately, his face flushing a little bit as his own neediness. “We don’t have too, if you don’t want—“

 

“I do want to,” Husk cuts him off, his chest heaving as he fights to catch his breath. His cheeks turn pink and he averts his eyes, suddenly lacing their fingers together and gripping Angel’s hand tightly. 

 

“I just…” Husk fumbles, and Angel can feel the poor man's heart pounding through his skin. Gently, he brings Husk’s hand up to his own chest, letting the other man feel his heartbeat. Husk takes a deep breath, slowly letting air out through his cheeks. 

 

“I um. I know I’m not…I know I don’t exactly…look like the people that you…that you’re probably used too,” he finally manages, giving a nervous little laugh, but Angel can feel the anxiety behind the words. Husk shrinks a little, his shoulders coming in as if to shield himself from Angel’s eyes. Angel resists the urge to grab Husk by the shoulders and shake the everloving nonsense out of him. 

 

“Husk,” he says instead, tilting the other man’s chin up to meet his eyes. “You’re beautiful. An’ no, I don’t mean ‘on the inside’ or any a’ that bullshit, though, you are. I mean you’re drop dead fucking gorgeous. I know you ain’t always that fond of this body you got now but I’m…” he trails off slightly, fighting to keep his voice steady as arousal floods his veins. “Jesus Husk, I’m so attracted t’ you it's stupid. You’re…one a’ the most handsome guys I ever seen. So if you aren’t ready, we can wait, but don’ you dare hold out on me cuz’ you’re worried bout’ what I think a’ you. I wantyou. More than I’ve—ever wanted anyone.”

 

Angel takes a nervous breath, risking a small glance upwards. He can’t recall the last time he’s ever said something sincere to anyone before or during sex. For a moment he’s afraid he’s overwhelmed the other man or said the wrong thing. Husk stares back at him, his eyes wide in surprise, blinking, his mouth hanging open slightly. Angel forces himself to wait, giving the other man time to absorb what he’s said. 

 

“I…really?” Husk finally says, his voice a little dry. Angel laughs, unable to help himself, and pulls Husk in close, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

 

“You’re so fucking stupid, ya’ know that?” He murmurs, settling his hands on Husk’s waist and looking right at him. 

 

“Husk, I love you,” he says, softly but firm. “I love all of you. And I wanna show you. If you’ll let me.” 

 

Husk is looking at him with such wonder and sheer awe Angel almost can’t stand it. 

 

“I…I love you too,” he finally replies, licking his lips a little and cupping Angel’s cheek. “Are you…do you want to do this? Are you ready?”

 

Angel, surprising himself a bit, nods without hesitating.

 

“Yes,” he whispers, meaning it entirely. “If you are.”

 

Husk, to Angel’s utter delight, nods in return, taking a shaky breath.

 

“You um. You might…have to um. Take the lead. This first time,” he says quietly, looking just a little embarrassed. “I know you’re…I know you prefer to bottom but, if you don’t mind, I just…I ain’t done this in a while—“

 

Angel cuts his boyfriend off by expertly flipping him over, switching their positions so that Husk is lying down with Angel straddling him. Husk lets out a tiny gasp of surprise, his hands coming up to brush Angel’s thighs. 

 

“Mind?” Angel teases, murmuring in Husk’s ear, making the other man shiver. “Husk. It would be my pleasure.”

 

This makes Husk whimper, and Angel slowly begins to trail kisses along the other man’s abdomen, rolling his hips against Husk’s as he does so. His boyfriend makes the most beautiful sounds, and Angel has to wrestle with his own instincts a bit to keep himself moving slowly. This is Husk’s first time doing this in a long time. Angel wants it to be good for him, wants it to be fucking perfect. Thankfully, this is one thing Angel knows he’s good at. 

 

When he reaches Husk’s waist band, he lets his fingers trail along it for just a moment, exploring Husk’s hips, his abdomen, in between his thighs. Husk moans, his whole body shaking a little, and Angel finally reaches for his zipper, glancing up at Husk once more for confirmation. 

 

Husk's eyes meet his own and he nods, swallowing a little to find his voice. 

 

“Go ahead,” he says, his voice husky and low and downright delectable. Angel does as he’s told. 

 

And then Husk is naked.

 

Angel had pictured this so many times but for once his imagination just doesn’t do it justice. He stares for a moment, taking it in, savoring the sight on his tongue. Angel saw people nude every fucking day. But Husk…

 

Angel knew that no one in hell had ever gotten to see what he was seeing now. What’s more, Husk wasn’t someone he was being paid to play pretend with. He wasn’t some magazine model who was going to treat Angel like a sex toy. Husk was real. Husk was his. 

 

And Angel had had to earn this. Had been made to earnthe right to see Husk this way, something he hadn’t been made to do in a long time. That made this all the more fucking magical. 

 

As many times as Angel had wished for this in the past, he finds himself so unbelievably grateful that Husk hadn’t accepted all his previous offers. It used to infuriate him; who wouldn’t want Angel Dust coming onto them ? But now, here, knowing that Husk had chosen to trust him with this— not because he was hot or famous or great at sucking cock, but because Angel had won him over with his personality, his character, his true self, not some bullshit fake persona—Angel knew, felt, deep in his bones that this was how this was supposed to happen.  

 

Husk was as gorgeous as he was self conscious, his face flushed pink as he fisted the comforter in both hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

 

“Fuck Angel,” he chokes out, huffing a little and averting his eyes. “Y’ gotta… do somethin’, say somethin’—“

 

“Sei bello,” Angel cuts in. He hadn’t meant to cause the other man anxiety by staring for so long. It was just hard to form words with Husk in front of him like this. Husk’s eyebrows raise a little in surprise, and he gives a small smile. 

 

“Anche tu,” he replies, and Angel startles a bit. He hadn’t even realized that he’d spoken in his mother tongue until Husk answered him in kind. 

 

“I…you speak Italian?” He squeaks, his boisterous attitude about taking the lead suddenly melting, hearing Husk speak in his native language. 

 

Husk laughs a little, drawing Angel in closer.

 

“Un po’,” he murmurs, sitting up now and bringing his arms up to wrap around Angel’s waist. Angel’s breath catches in his throat as Husk leans in to place a careful kiss at the base of Angel’s throat, his hands carefully trailing downwards, coming to hover just above the hem of Angel’s jeans, pinching the bottom of his T-shirt between his fingers. He pulls back then and looks up at Angel.

 

“il tuo turno,” he whispers. Your turn. Though, it’s phrased more as a question, Husk looking up at him, waiting for permission.  Angel nods, then, remembering Husk will want verbal confirmation, swallows and forces sound from his throat. 

 

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding emphatically. “Yes, take it off.”

 

Husk complies, his hands shaking slightly, looking a bit as though he’s in a trance. Angel retracts his lower set of arms to make the process easier, raising his arms over his head and letting Husk tug the t-shirt off. Angel instinctively starts to crane his neck a little, to avoid his hair getting tousled in the process, then stops. This isn’t a job, he reminds himself. He’s not performing for anyone. This is Husk. 

 

He lets his neck relax, and actually giggles a little as Husk tugs the shirt off, resulting in his hair proofing a little. Husk smiles fondly, and reaches up to tousle his hair even more, making Angel giggle harder. Angel can’t remember the last time he laughed during sex.

 

Unfortunately, he’s cut off by his own breath starting to hitch a little, his own hair tickling his nose a bit, the last little reminisce of his cold still teasing him. He turns his head, smiling a little as he hears Husk’s breath catch. 

 

“ ehh…ehh !…ehtchu! heh …heh-tchu! Heh, s’cuse’ mbe.” He flushes a little. Those were quite high pitched, albeit small. 

 

He glances down to see Husk staring at him, seeming to have frozen in place for a moment. Angel winces a little. 

 

“Sorry,” he says, sniffling. “I wasn’t…trying to’ overwhelm you—“

 

“No,” Husk cuts him off instantly, shaking himself out of it, blushing. “No, definitely don’t…apologize. S’ not like you can help it. Do you um…” He bites his lip, taking a breath. “Do you feel okay? If you’re still feelin’…under the weather, we can stop—“

 

“ No ,” Angel says, a little more forcefully than he meant too. He clears his throat, giving a nervous little laugh. “No, I…I feel perfectly fine, I swear. What about you?” He allows himself to press a gentle hand to Husk’s chest, checking his breathing. He’s pleased to feel very little rattling or struggle, Husk’s lungs contracting and expanding as normal. Whatever comes next, Angel knows things are about to get…physical. He wants to make sure Husk can handle it.

 

At the gesture, Husk’s face flushes the prettiest shade of pink, and Angel can feel the other man’s arousal spike a little. A small smile tugs at the corner of Angel’s mouth. For all the enjoyment he gets out of taking care of Husk, he’s glad that the recipient is also getting pleasure from it. 

 

“Mhm,” Husk squeaks, clearing his throat a little. The two sit there in silence for a moment, nose to nose, listening to each other breathing. Angel sits there, staring at Husk, drinking in the fucking innocence in the other man’s experession. Husk’s big eyes swim with so much warmth and comfort and—

 

Angel pulls away slightly then, jerking back a bit suddenly. Husk immediately lets go of his waist, his brow furrowing in concern.

 

“Is something wrong?” His voice rumbles, vibrating under Angel’s skin in a way that makes him shiver with pleasure. He forces himself to breathe, and laughs a little, averting his eyes. 

 

“Fuck,” he laughs nervously, chewing his bottom lip. “I’ve ah…I’ve never had this problem before.” 

 

Husk raises an eyebrow, looking a little worried, gently taking Angel’s hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. Angel fucking melts. 

 

“That!” He exclaims, slightly exacerbated. “Look at you Husk, you’re so fucking…precious,” he finished, chuckling a little in disbelief. “Now I know what all those tight asses in Bridgerton were on about when they talked bout’…protectin’ a lady's honor.”

 

Husk frowns a little, wrinkling his nose. 

 

“Are you…comparin’ me t’ a 17 year old British girl making her debut in that 18th century porno you’re into?”

 

Angel scoffs a little, his cheeks coloring. 

 

“S’ not porn,” he argues, “it’s a period piece—“

 

“Oh please,” Husk cuts him off pointedly, giving him a look. “They wear costumes and they have sex like, every episode. It’s porn .”

 

Angel laughs at that, loudly, covering his mouth a little as snort escapes him. 

 

Husk smiles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. 

 

“I love your laugh,” he murmurs softly, wrapping his arms around Angel once more. “S’ so dorky an’ goofy an’ real .”

 

Angel blushes at that, quieting down and shaking his head a little. 

 

“I jus’ mean that…Christ this is so stupid; I almost feel…dirty, getting ready ta’—defile you like this,” he says, putting his face in his hand as Husk laughs. 

 

“Defile me?” He replies, laughing heartily.

 

“Fuck off,” Angel scowls. “You know what I mean. God Husk, look at yourself. You’re so…sweet an’ beautiful an’…fucking, wholesome,” he fumbles, struggling to find the right words. “How m’ I spposed’ t’ fuck you, when you’re sittin’ there lookin’ like that?!”

 

Husk chuckles, bringing a gentle hand to Angel’s cheek and starting to say something, but his eyes suddenly flutter close and he ducks forward against Angel’s chest, trying to stifle. 

 

“ Hah …Hah-chx! Chgx! Ehh …eh-CHOO! Oh mby god, s-sorry,” Husk mutters, shaking his head a little. He glances up, meeting Angel’s eyes, smiling a little at the expression he sees there. Angel cringes internally, able to envision the stupid, unbelievably horny look on his own face. 

 

“Sorry,” Husk murmures again, right against Angel’s ear now, making Angel shudder with delight. “Guess my nose still…t-t hh ickles a little.”

 

Angel whimpers, his hips rolling against Husk’s own involuntarily, gripping the other man’s forearms for dear life. 

 

“ Huh …huh-shuh! Huh…Hruh-ShOO! Ah, fuck.” Husk shakes his head a bit, pulling Angel closer unconsciously. Angel worries his bottom lip between his teeth, transfixed.

 

“See?” Husk rumbles, looking a little too pleased with himself as he shoots Angel a devilishly handsome smirk. “I know you want this.”

 

Angel takes a shaky breath, his legs trembling. 

 

“I don’t—yes,” he admits, sighing a little, so hot and bothered and frustrated with his own stupid lovey dovey emotions holding him back. “But I want—I don’t know howto do this,” he concedes, laughing at himself in disbelief. “I’ve never…done this with anyone that I…care so much about.”

 

At that, Husk’s expression softens, and he carefully extracts himself from under Angel, taking his boyfriends hand.

 

“Really?” He asks softly, and Angel’s cheeks flush, as he nods and looks away. He suddenly feels very novice, as if he’s some teenager about to lose his virginity. He hadn’t realized that while he might have eons of experience on Husk when it came to sex, sex that actually meantsomething was brand new to him. As if he can read Angel’s mind, Husk slowly guides Angel back, so he’s laying on the bed, and joins him there, pressed close to his side. 

 

“This is…kind of new for both of us, huh?” Husk asks quietly, and Angel nods, staring at the ceiling and blowing air out through his cheeks. He suddenly feels very small. He wants this to be more than the bullshit he delivers to people at work every day…Husk deserves more. The problem is, Angel is rapidly realizing that he isn’t sure he knows how to do that. 

 

“Hey,” Husk says softly, and Angel turns, meeting his boyfriend's gaze. The tenderness and understanding there makes his heart leap into his throat.

 

“M’ sorry if I…put too much pressure on you, askin’ you t’ take the lead,” Husk says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Angel’s temple, entwining their legs together. “Maybe instead we can…figure this out together yeah?” 

 

Angel smiles. 

 

“I’d like that,” he whispers, tugging Husk in closer again, so the other man is on top of him once more. 

 

Husk kisses him then, capturing his lips and rolling their hips together as he slowly starts to undo the button on Angel’s jeans. 

 

“The first thing you need t’ know,” Husk breathes, his words ghosting over Angel’s skin in between kisses. “Is that when you’re doing this (kiss) with someone you really (kiss) care about, (kiss) someone you really (kiss) know…”

 

Angel lets out a little noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, one he’s never made before. He decides he likes it. 

 

“You don’t ‘fuck’,” Husk chuckles, slowly running his claws beneath the waistline of Angel’s jeans. 

 

“No?” Angel whispers, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Husk nips at his earlobe.

 

“No,” Husk chuckles lowly in his ear, and  oh God , Angel can’t help himself from fumbling for the zipper to his jeans, tortured by the agonizingly slow pace Husk is setting. Husk, the bastard, captures his wrist however, stopping him. Angel let’s out a shuddery whimper of protest. Husk looks right at him. 

 

“No,” Husk finally says, his gaze full of such fond admiration and adoration. “You make love to them.”

 

Angel feels the air leave his lungs and he gives Husk’s hand a squeeze, gasping a bit as Husk finally tugs his jeans off, discarding them on the floor. 

 

They pause for a moment then, pressed against one another, skin to skin, breathing hard, just taking in the sight of each other. 

 

“Make love to me Husk,” Angel whispers, trailing his thumb along Husk’s lips. 

 

So Husk does. 

 

Husks POV

Husk lays wrapped in Angel’s embrace, swimming in his warmth. He can’t recall a time, ever, dead or alive, that he’d been this happy, and it shows. He can’t help himself from purring, which would normally embarrass him, but he finds the sheer joy filling his body doesn’t leave any room for it. Besides, Angel seems to be enjoying it, humming softly as the vibrations resonate under his skin, his head resting beside Husk’s, their legs tangled together under the sheets. 

 

They’d finished nearly 15 minutes ago ( both of them, much to Husk’s relief and slight pride) and he was still trying to catch his breath. Not that he’d ever let Angel in on this; he didn’t want the other man regretting anythingthey’d just done. 

 

Husk had already had so many worries going into it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with Angel, whether due to inexperience or sheer physical exertion; but while Angel hadn’t been lying when he’d boasted about his skills, Husk had managed just fine, albeit the various…activities they’d just engaged in taking a bit of a toll on his still fragile breathing. And while Angel was certainly more experienced than he was, Husk had been glad to be able to show the other man something that was new to him; to show him what it meant to do this with someone you truly loved.

 

There was only one lingering worry left in Husk’s mind as he lay there, carding his fingers through Angel’s hair. He clears his throat a little, breaking the silence. 

 

“I…I hope I was alright for you,” he says quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. “I know you’ve…done way more, um. Advanced stuff with…other, professional people…”

 

At this, Angel lifts his head, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at Husk, raising an eyebrow.

 

“When are you gonna get it through that thick skull a’ yours?” his boyfriend says, staring at him with equal part exasperation and fondness. “Jesus Husk, nothin’ I’ve eva’ done before even comes close ta’ being with you. Because it’s you .”

 

Husk blushes at that, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and smiling. He leans forward to place a gentle kiss on Angel’s forehead, wrapping his arms around his lanky shoulders once more. 

 

Angel comes to rest his head on Husk’s chest now, and Husk hums happily…at first. The weight of Angel’s head on his already tight chest causes him to cough just a bit, and Angel, having his ear pressed right against him, instantly detects the slight rattle there. 

 

He lifts his head, his brow furrowed with concern, and rubs his hand over Husk’s chest. 

 

“Here,” he says softly, pulling away to roll over and reach into Husk’s bedside drawer. He returns holding Husk’s inhaler, offering it. Husk’s neck warms a little at that, but he takes it, not wanting his boyfriend to worry. He shakes it, prepping, but hesitates a bit with Angel still watching him. He knew it was dumb, but something about Angel watching him have to take this stupid thing made his face feel hot. Even after everything they’d seen each other through. 

 

Angel, sensing this, averts his eyes and returns to his spot nestled into Husk’s side, hugging his arm. Husk takes his inhaler and the relief is immediate. He allows himself to take a slow inhale, feeling the oxygen flow freely again through his lungs. 

 

“Better?” He hears Angel whisper, and Husk nods, pulling his partner in close again, allowing his head to now rest on his loosening chest. They lapse into comfortable silence once more, Angel tracing lazy circles on Husk’s shoulder. 

 

It’s Angel who speaks next, glancing up to meet Husk’s gaze, shyly. 

 

“Can I tell you something?” He asks softly, looking adorably bashful. Husk nods, scooting down and coming to lay on his side, facing the other man, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. Angel takes a little breath. 

 

“For a while I…I didn’t think I could um. Feel this anymore,” he admits quietly, looking down. “I mean, I sure as hell neva’ imagined bein’ in love, let alone someone lovin’ me back. Val convinced me that…that no one else would want…someone like me. What he made me into.”

 

Husk feels his won blood boil at that, forcing himself to clench his jaw and remain quiet as Angel continues. 

 

“Now that I…can see him, fa’ what he really is,” he proceeds, chewing his lip slightly, “I know it was just anotha’ way for him t’ keep me all to himself. When someone convinces ya’ they’re the only one that’ll eva’ love you…you put up with a lot. Even when you know it ain’t love anymore. If it eva’ fuckin’ was.” 

 

He blinks a little like he’s trying not to cry and Husk pulls him in a little closer, placing gentle kisses right over the corner of his eyes, as if he can kiss the tears away. It sort of works; Angel smiles at him.

 

“An’ then I met you. And you…well ya’ know. You kinda proved ta’ me what I already knew; that everythin’ Val said was bullshit. I was real broken, but you helped me…fix myself. You an’ Charlie an’ Vag’s an’ Cherri. Finally got it through my idiot brain that I deserved actual love,” he chuckles, squeezing Husk’s shoulder fondly. “But ah, if I’m honest, I…I didn’t know if I could ever…fix this part a’ me,” he says, gesturing between their two naked bodies. “The uh. The physical part. I kinda thought that maybe I’d never be able to…to feel these kinda feelings anymore, after…everything. But, with you, just now? I…I did. And I jus’ wanted…I… thank you for that Husk,” he chokes, swallowing and fighting to keep his voice steady.

 

Husk doesn’t know what to say to that. So he just pulls Angel in, holding him close and letting him bury his head in his shoulder. 

 

They stay that way for a long time. 

[coolbeans18]

Ch. 7: Trying New Things Won’t Kill You

TW: mentions of vomiting but nothing too explicit. Mentions of SA and ptsd but again, nothing explicit. Take care of yourselves! Enjoy! 💕

 

 

“Cut!”

Angel grit his teeth and tried not to curse. 

“What the fuck are you on today Angel?” Val calls lazily, sounding, thankfully, more bored than pissed. “Take it again from the top and get out of your head. Less… animated this time, yes Amorcíto? You’re not a cartoon character.”

Angel forces himself to smile and nod. This was the fifth time Val had cut this shoot short and demanded they start over. As obnoxious as it was, Angel knew there was at least a little truth to Val’s words. He was having trouble getting his head in the game today, even doing BDSM, something he typically had no trouble with. 

Angel knew what his problem was. It started with H and ended with -usk. 

Ever since he and his boyfriend had started having sex, Angel found it harder and harder to perform at work. Which made sense. Sex with Husk was…well, it made everything Angel did here seem exceedingly dull and sour by comparison. Angel hadn’t ever realized how much bettersex was when you were doing it with someone you actually loved. Before Husk, he hadn’t thought it made much of a difference. A hole was a hole, a tongue was a tongue, a body was a body. God, he’d been such a fucking moron. 

As much as he adored this newfound bliss he and Husk were sharing (nearly every single night…and morning), at the moment, it was a bit of a nuisance. Screw Husk and his perfect fucking eyes and teeth and tounge and—

Angel shakes his head a little as the camera starts rolling. This is what he’s talking about. He needs to focus . The director calls action and he plasters on his best wicked grin, really trying to sell it this time as he strains against the leather cuffs that keep him secured to the bedpost. He tries to be sexy, to be filthy, to be engaged , but as the shoot proceeds and some fellow sinner’s nails grate along his inner thigh he can’t help think how utterly lifeless and void their technique is compared to—

“CUT!”

Angel swallows a groan. He is dangerously close to getting the shit beat out of him; he can tell by Val’s tone. 

“Angel, sweetheart,” Val says from somewhere in the dark, his figure hidden by the stage lights, his voice sickenly sweet. “Care to tell me what’s on your mind mi putita? Surely there is some reason you’re struggling with such a simple fucking task.”

Angel winces, trying to think of an answer that will appease his psychotic boss. Thankfully, before he can respond, the poor boom operator, whose been holding up the mic for nearly 20 minutes straight now, drops the thing, causing Val to shriek at him instead. Angel, though feeling bad for the poor sound guy, lets out a little sigh of relief. Val had the attention span of a fly, constantly switching from one enraged temper tantrum to another.  Angel lets himself relax against the restraints a little. Fuck, his arms are sore. He’d been here for 10 hours now.

Then, because apparently small miracles did exist, Val gets a call on his cell from who Angel assumes is Vox; he’s the only person Val would take the time to answer in the middle of a shoot. Only able to hear pieces of the conversation, Angel holds his breath, waiting, before Val finally hangs up, huffing, and drops the poor boom operator to the floor with mild disinterest. 

“I’m calling it,” he announces, and Angel sees everyone, himself included, fight not to show their relief. “Just use the second take,” Val says to the director over his shoulder, already leaving. “I have dinner plans.”

He stalks out of the room without another word, and Angel allows himself to sag against the headboard, sighing. One of his favorite PA’s, Katie, comes to free him from his wrist cuffs, hurriedly collecting the various toys, gags and restraints from the set after doing so. She’s clearly anxious to get home.

“Sorry I kept ya’ here so late doll,” Angel murmurs to his coworker apologetically, rubbing his red wrists. Katie rolls her eyes, scoffing. 

“It’s not your fault. That second take was fine. He’s just pissy today because he and Vox had some lovers quarrel. Hopefully they patch shit up over dinner or we’re all in for a shit show tomorrow.”

Angel grimaces at that, shrugging on his robe and helping Katie strip the bed, wanting to help the poor girl get home as soon as possible. Angel thought his 10 hour day was bad; this poor kid had been here since 5am. 

“What about you?” Katie asks him, giving him a nod of thanks for his assistance. “Got any plans tonight? Maybe with…someone special?” She smirks a little as she says this, and Angel blushes.

“I d’ know,”  he says, trying to sound casual. “Ya’ know me, I always go home with someone.”

Katie glances at him. 

“You can cut the act with me Angel,” she says softly, offering him a small smile. “It’s kinda painfully obvious that you’re seein’ someone. You’ve been on cloud fucking nine all month. No one who works here is that happy, not unless they’ve got some real good personal shit going for them.”

Angel averts his eyes, chewing his lil a little. 

“Relax,” Katie says, offering him a warm smile as they finish clean up, both making their way out of the studio. “I’m not gonna say shit to anyone. Though, I would um. Just be careful, if I were you,” she adds nervously, her gaze wary. “Val’s dense as a fucking door nail but if you don’t get your head in the game, sooner or later he’s gonna notice something’s off.

Angel let’s put a frustrated sigh, nodding. 

“Fuck, I know,” he mutters, scrubbing his eyes, leaving makeup tracks on the back of his hand. “I’ll…I’ll work on it. Thanks. Fa’…lookin’ out.”

Katie nods wordlessly, already moving to put away the props. 

“Course,” she says, her voice already sounding a bit far away, shooting him a sideway grin. “Besides, if you get fucked up, it just makes my job harder.  I sure as hell don’t wanna scrub your blood off my set.”

Angel snorts at that. He’s become particularly grateful for his studio friends of late. He knew he hadn’t exactly always been kind to them, his past self often too high or too pissed off or too downright depressed to pay much notice to the few people around here who actually tried to lend him a helping hand…in what little ways they could. Working with Charlie, being with Husk…it had helped him become a better version of himself. Someone who gave a shit about the people he worked with, who he now saw were in the same fucked up boat as himself.

“Go home an’ sleep,” he implores, noting the bags under Katie’s eyes. “I’ll see ya’ tomorrow. Thanks again.”

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Angel is out the door and headed home, bouncing on his toes a little in anticipation. Cherri was bringing Thai food for dinner and it was movie night. The bar was closed today and he was excited to get home to his friends and his boyfriend.

He ignores the cat calls and lewd remarks as he walks; he barely registers them anymore. His mind drifts to better things; take-out and Cherri’s latest gossip and Husk’s smile.

Finally, he makes it to the hotel, swinging open the front doors and instantly being greeted by the welcoming embrace of the warm atmosphere. He can hear chatter and the clinking of glasses and silverware coming from the lounge, can smell hot Thai food and cheap boxed wine and good company.

He makes his way into the lounge and his smile grows even wider at the sight there.

Charlie and Nifty are unboxing the Thai food, Nifty doing so rather aggressively, spilling rice all over the coffee table and she rips the box with her teeth. Vaggie distributes paper plates and is petitioning Charlie to consider a horror movie in the spirit of Halloween coming up. Cherri is opening the wine while Husk hands out plastic forks and serving spoons. The two are bickering about something Angel can’t yet make out; he steps closer, now able to grasp bits and pieces. 

“—should stop making excuses, don’t act like it isn’t weird—“

“It’s not weird, you’re making it into a way bigger deal than it is,” Husk grouches, cutting Cherri off, who just rolls her eyes and continues to admonish him. 

“Maybe if you ever left the house instead of living like a hermit, you’d realize that trying new things won’t kill you.”

“I try new shit all the fuckin’—“

Husk pauses mid-sentence, his eyes catching on Angel who is leaning against the doorway casually, watching the exchange, looking amused. 

“Time,” Husk finishes, his face spreading into a big goofy grin. “Hey. How’re you doin’?”

Angel heaves himself off the wall and accepts his boyfriend's invited embrace, giving him a small peck on the forehead. 

“M’ good,” he answers honestly, smiling. “I see I came just in time ta’ defend your honor. For your information,” he says pointedly, turning to face Cherri, “Husky here tries lots of new things. Just this morning for example—“

“ Stop ,” Cherri snaps, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Forever stop that story. S’ prolly not even that raunchy, you two being so disgustingly in love. I bet you did some sappy missionary shit with some light choking thrown in, max .”

Husk, for his part, is now red as a tomato, and Angel laughs at them both, shaking his head a little. 

“Alright, cut it out Cherri, we’re embarrassing the old man.”

“What’s embarrassing,” Cherri states pointedly, “is that your boyfriend has never had Thai food.”

Angel glances at Husk in surprise. 

“Fa’ real? How? Y’ were alive for 70 years! An’ ya’ been down here even longer!”

Husk scowls, crossing his arms, his fur puffing up a little in an incredibly adorable manner.

“I like what I like. An’ I don’ fancy spendin’ money on shit I ain’t ever tried, sue me,” Husk grumbles, and Angel ruffles the other man’s hair fondly, giggling. 

“Well, let’s take your Thai virginity baby,” he smirks. “Pour me a glass of that shitty wine, it was a long day.”

Husk frowns a little at that, ever attentive. “Are you good?” He asks softly, taking Angel’s hand. Angel gives him a soft smile, his heart fluttering a little. 

“I’m fantastic,” he grins, giving his boyfriend's hand a squeeze. “It’s movie night and I got a handsome fella on my arm.”

Husk rolls his eyes, but Angel see’s the hidden smile there.

“I shouldn’t be complaining,” Angel says, making light conversation as they make their way over to the couch. “The poor PA’s had been there since 5 fuckin’ am.”

Husk scoffs at that, tugging Angel into his side as they sit down in their usual spot on the far right side of the sofa. “What’s Val got em’ doin’, witchcraft?” 

Angel snorts.

“Basically,” he remarks, watching fondly as his boyfriend gazes at all the food Charlie and Nifty have unboxed, looking hungry. “He made em’ set up six different sets. In one day. Katie was dead on her feet.”

Husk frowns. 

“Is she the cyclops or the one that kinda looks like Vaggie but nice?”

At this, Vaggie shoots Husk a glare. 

“I’m nice ,” she hisses, looking very much the opposite. Charlie bursts out laughing at that, causing everyone to look at her with mild surprise, Vaggie included. 

“I…sorry,” the princess giggles, fighting to compose herself. “I just…Vaggie, nice. That’s…” 

She trails off, seeing her girlfriend shooting her an incredulous look. 

“Do you not think I’m nice?” Vaggie demands, looking genuinely offended, and Charlie can’t help it, she laughs again, which makes Angel and everyone else crack up. 

“I think you’re incredibly kind,” Charlie tries to assuage, in between fits of laughter. “And selfless and brave and loyal.”

“Will ya’ relax Vags?” Angel chides, rolling his eyes. “No one down here is nice . Cept’ Cha-Cha. And you snagged her so. Ya’ got a leg up on the rest of us already.”

Vaggie crosses her arms, looking miffed, but relents, plopping down on the couch beside Angel and snatching the pad thai from him. 

“Hey!” Angel exclaims, pissed. Especially since he knows he can’t wrestle it back from her. That’s a battle he’d lose instantly, and he doesn’t love the idea of humiliating himself in front of his boyfriend.

“You said it yourself,” Vaggie shoots back, pointedly. “I’m not nice.” She mutters something under her breath in Spanish as an afterthought, and Husk, the bastard, bursts out laughing. 

“Dios mío, lo hace,” Husk snorts, and Angel looks between the two of them incredulously. 

“What did she say?!” He demands, squinting at his boyfriend, seething. Husk just laughs harder. 

“She…she said you look like one of those angry chihuahuas when you’re mad,” Husk wheezes, still chuckling. “And I agree.”

Angel scowls at both of them, opening his mouth to protest, but is cut short as Cherri shoves a glass of wine into his hand. 

“Quit while you're ahead bitch,” she advises, snorting. “The more angry you get, the more I see it.”

Angel takes the glass, grumbling, but quiets, sipping his shitty wine and waiting his turn. When the food finally does make it to him and Husk, Angel giggles as his boyfriend squints at it. 

“What’s this?” Husk asks, holding up a container.

“Red curry.”

“And this?

“Coconut rice and stew.”

“And this?”

“Why don’t I just make you a plate,” Angel cuts him off, giving an exasperated laugh. 

Husk seems satisfied with this, and hands his plate to Angel, letting him choose what goes on it. 

Charlie and Vaggie continue bickering about what movie to watch, before Angel announces that if they don’t come to a consensus in the next minute, he’ll turn on one of hisfilms. 

Charlie quickly agrees to a horror movie, so long as it’s one Vaggie has already seen so her girlfriend can cover her eyes for the scary parts. Angel, unable to help himself, teases Charlie mercilessly over this, pointing out that she’s the princess of Hell . Cherri suggests IT, which Vaggie has seen, (Husk points out that he can’t think of a single horror movie Vaggie hasn’t seen; the two watch them together a lot) and finally, after what seems like eons of squabbling, the movie begins to play. 

Angel tucks into his food as soon as it begins, starving after such a long day. Husk, the picky eater he is, eyes his plate suspiciously for a bit before Cherri finally chastises him for it.

“It’s food Husk, not a crime scene,” she says flatly. “You eat it, you don’t investigate it.” 

“Maybe it’s poisoned,” Angel chimes in. “Then it would be a crime scene.”

“Will the two of you shut the fuck up,” Vaggie hisses, eyes trained on the screen. “It's movie night; watch the movie.”

Angel and Cherri begrudgingly quiet down, though they both watch Husk take his first bite, wanting to see his reaction. Angel is pleased to see his boyfriend hum a little in approval. 

“It’s good,” Husk whispers to them both. “Happy? Now quit watchin’ me eat.” 

Angel giggles a little at that, and turns his attention to the screen, snuggling in a little closer to Husk’s side. He’d never seen this before; Husk was always trying to get him to watch more horror, especially around Halloween, but living down here Angel felt like it was a waste of time; what could he possibly see in a film that was scarier than half of the shit he saw on a daily basis? 

Still, when the clown appears in the storm drain, Angel can’t stop himself from jolting a little, his heart beating very fast. Husk smirks at him. 

“Maybe you shouldn’tve run your mouth so much,” his boyfriend teases, nudging his shoulder. “Charlie didn’t even flinch at that.”

“Say anything and I will gut you,” Angel murmurs through grit teeth, and Husk laughs, giving his hand a little squeeze. They’ve both already finished most of their food, and Angel takes advantage of his boyfriend's free arms and burrows himself in them, sticking his tongue out at Cherri, who pretends to gag. 

As the movie continues, Angel feels Husk’s chest begin to rise and fall a bit unevenly. Pressed up against him this way, Angel can sense every little change in his boyfriend’s breathing, every shift in movement, his heartbeat. His ‘spidey sense,’ Husk called it, which always made Angel laugh. Now, he glances over to see just what he’d anticipated; Husk’s breath waivers a little, and he ducks to the side with two tiny stifled sneezes and a quiet cough. With a small shake of his head, he turns back, eyes watery and a bit breathless. 

Angel’s throat goes a bit dry, having been able to feel the sensation from where Husk sits, his arms still around Angel. He wants to bless Husk, to ask him if he’s alright, but he knows his boyfriend would loathe drawing any more attention to himself. Husk’s eyes are already glued to the movie again, so Angel does the same.

Another minute later however, his boyfriend starts sniffling a little. Angel furrows his brow and looks up at him, trying to keep his concern discreet. Husk meets his eyes and his face flushes a bit. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, clearing his throat a bit. “Must be d-dhh ust… heh ! Htchgx! Chgx! Mmm, fuck.” He coughs a little, harder than last time, and Angel can’t help but notice that the other man’s voice sounds a little funny. Strained almost. The fluttering butterflies in Angel’s stomach are overwhelmed by worry, and he leans in, careful to keep his voice low so only Husk can hear.

“You okay?” He whispers, giving his boyfriends shouldn’t a tiny squeeze. “Can I get you some water?”

At that, Husk nods a little, still sniffling slightly. Angel carefully untangles his long limbs from where he had sunk into the couch and leans forward to pour Husk some water into a spare cup. Husk accepts it gratefully, sipping it lightly and inviting Angel back into his arms.

Angel returns, rubbing Husk’s chest a little. Husk chuckles a bit at that, giving his shoulders a squeeze. 

They keep watching in silence. Husk seems alright save for occasional sniffles. Angel decides he’ll get up early tomorrow and dust in here; he knows that’s Nifty’s job but he would rather stick a fork in his own eye than suggest to the little maid that she wasn’t doing her job well enough. 

When the woman from the painting disappears and then reappears in the doorway, Angel can’t help himself from jumping again, letting slip a little yelp.

Husk and Cherri both laugh at him, and Angel glares at them, crossing his arms to hide the way his hands are shaking just a tad. 

“What happened?” asks Charlie, whose eyes are being covered by Vaggie’s hand. 

“What happened is Angel’s a scaredy-cat,” Vaggie snorts. 

“I wasn’t—the loud noise startled me,” Angel argues meekly. This isn’t totally untrue; another reason he wasn’t a huge fan of horror is that the loud sounds resembled thunder, the way they make his bones rattle around inside his skin. 

Husk, as if he can sense this, wraps an arm around Angel’s waist and takes his wrist, putting pressure there the way he knows helps. Angel blushes a little at the sweet gesture. Husk does things like that and Angel wonders how he got this lucky. 

About thirty minutes in, Angel can feel his boyfriend’s breathing getting worse. He forces himself to remain quiet, knowing that the other man will hate it if he makes a big fuss, but it’s getting more difficult to ignore. Pressed into Husk’s side Angel can feel the tightening of his chest, the wheeze in his throat. 

Husk’s hand inadvertently tightens on Angel’s waist then, giving a shaky, wavering inhale and fumbling for his handkerchief in his pocket. 

Angel instinctively brings a hand to Husk’s back, knowing he’s about to sneeze…several times. Husk doesn’t take out his handkerchief unless he absolutely has too. 

“ heh…ehh ! ehtch! chx! hah… hah-tch! mmchgx! chm! snniff. ehh…heh …ktch! chx! chx!”

Angel feels his own stomach knot a little with worry. These don’t sound at all like Husk’s normal sneezes, even stifled. They’re weak, breathless, like Husk isn’t getting enough air. The poor guy breaks off coughing after the fit, trying hard to keep them quiet and not interrupt the film or draw attention to himself. It’s not much use; Cherri notices, shooting a concerned glance over her shoulder as Angel rubs Husk’s back and hands him some water. 

“You alright?” Cherri asks, and this draws the attention of the other three girls, making Husk flush. 

“He’s fine, jus’ allergies,” Angel answers for Husk, shooting all the girls a look, trying to urge them to look the fuck away as Husk continues fighting to stifle his coughs. 

His friends, thankfully, get the message, and go back to the film, not saying anything more. When Husk finally manages to stop coughing, Angel catches him placing a stiff hand on his own chest, wincing, the wheeze in his throat becoming all the more prominent. 

“Inhaler?” Angel whispers quietly, sitting forward so his extra weight isn’t causing any strain on Husk’s breathing. Husk just shakes his head, sniffling a little. 

“Ndo,” he wheezes hoarsely. “Ndo, I’mb okay.”

Angel winces at how poorly Husk sounds.

“I didn’t think dust was this bad,” he murmurs, sitting up and wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, trying to provide a little bit of comfort. Husk just shrugs, looking suddenly very pale. Angel frowns, his own anxiety growing. 

“Husk, what’s up?” He demands quietly. “Sweety, you’re white as a sheet. And you’re shaking.”

Suddenly, his boyfriend stands abruptly, jostling Angel, and all but sprints out of the room. 

Angel blinks in surprise, staring after him. 

He’s on his feet a moment later, following. 

“Keep watching guys,” he calls over his shoulder to their friends, flapping his hand a little at their worried expression. He knows Husk won’t want a gaggle of people looking in on him. Hell, he probably would prefer it if Angeldidn’t even look in on him. Well, too bad, that was Angel’s job. 

He starts to make his way up the stairs, assuming Husk will have gone to his room, when he hears a sound from the lobby restroom to his right. He bites his lip, and slowly makes his way over to the men’s room, letting his ear hover outside the door, listening. 

The sound he hears makes his skin crawl. Awful retching and coughing comes from the other side, the sounds of someone in the throes of nausea. Angel feels like someone stuck a needle in his heart, wincing. 

“Husk, baby, I’m coming in,” he calls out softly, and starts to open the door when—

“Ndo!” Comes his boyfriend’s hoarse, strangled voice. “Ndo, don’t, I don’t—wandt you to—see—“

He’s cut off by another bout of harsh coughing, followed by more gagging sounds. 

Angel rolls his eyes. “Tough shit,” he calls out over the noise, and enters anyway, hurrying over to the leftmost stall where he can see Husk’s feet under the door. 

The stall is locked, and Angel knocks, jiggling the handle. 

“Husk, let me in,” he says softly, his voice tight with anxiety. His boyfriend just lets out a painful groan, and begins vomiting again. Angel huffs a little, and, with some difficulty, gets down on the floor and shimmies underneath the stall door, hauling himself through just as Husk stops expelling the contents of his stomach for the time being. 

Seeing Angel appear, Husk groans, covering his face with trembling hands. 

“You don’ need to see this,” he mutters, wheezing badly. Angel rolls his eyes in exasperation, coming to put a light hand on his boyfriend's back as he starts coughing again. 

“Cut the bullshit Husk, it’s just puke,” he sighs. “You ain’t got anythin’ t’ be embarrassed about. Trust me, I’ve seen wayyy worse.” 

Husk manages a strangled laugh at that, his frame shaking as he seems to be done for the time being, flushing the toilet and slumping backwards against the wall. Angel has to grab his shoulders to keep him from falling over.

“Couldn’t make it upstairs,” his poor boyfriend says meekly, wincing a little. “Sorry t’ make you…crawl on the floor—“

Angel snorts a little, rubbing Husk’s shoulders. 

“I’ve spent my fair share a’ time on the floors of filthy public restrooms,” he jokes, sighing a little. “Least’ this one is pretty clean.”

Husk offers him a wry smile, though his face is still white as a ghost. He seems to be struggling to catch his breath, giving little hitching gulps for air and rubbing his throat a little, grimacing. With his other hand, he absentmindedly scratches at his arm, and Angel gently stops him with a hand to his wrist, squinting. His eyebrows raise in alarm as he takes note of the angry red hives that have begun to break out all over Husk’s body. 

“Fuck,” Angel hisses. He recognizes the symptoms of a food allergy, detailed in all the info pamphlets Husk’s doctor had given him. But the only thing Husk was allergic to was fish, and they hadn’t eaten any, Angel had made sure. He’d sent explicit details to Cherri about the food order, making her promise not to get anything with seafood. 

“I swear I triple checked the food,” he whispers to Husk, biting his lip. “There was no seafood on your plate, hell, I didn’t even allow any in the whole order—“

“S’ okay,” Husk wheezes, fighting to get a good breath. “Could be…something else, something…I forgot about—“

Angel shakes his head, frustrated. 

“Your only food allergies are to fish and shellfish,” he affirms. “Everything else on the list is airborne stuff.”

 

At this, Husk raises his eyebrows, questioningly. “The list?” He rasps, looking at Angel quizzically. Angel flushes.

“I erm…I may have…asked the doctor for the full list of your allergens. When we were at the hospital, for your asthma attack. And I may have um. Studied them extensively. And uh. Memorized them all.”

Husk blinks at him.

“I felt so guilty after I set you off that one time!” Angel bites back sheepishly. “After the um. After I came back from working in the garden. You made me your emergency contact so it’s really your fault. Y’ gave me access to all your medical info.”

Husk rolls his eyes, scowling a little, but gives Angel’s hand a squeeze.

“That’s…real sweet of you,” the grumpy cat mumbles, averting his eyes. “It’s overbearing and annoying and sappy as hell but. Also sweet.”

Angel laughs a little, his cheeks pink. 

“We need to get you upstairs. Get you antihistamines and your inhaler. Might not do much but it could help open up those airways. C’mon, can you stand?”

Husk nods a little, looking embarrassed. 

“I…with some help.”

Angel offers him a small smile, and extends his hand, hauling his boyfriend to his feet and quickly putting his lower arm under one of his shoulders for support. 

“We can take the elevator,” he assures the other man, not wanting to push their luck on the steps. As they rise, Husk’s breath catches in his throat and he turns to the side rather suddenly, with two tiny sneezes. 

“ hah ! hah-tchoo! choo! sniff . Fuck, sorry.”

“I uh. I didn’t know food allergies could make you sneeze,” Angel chuckles, forcing himself not to be a horney piece of shit. Husk’s reply doesn’t make this task any easier. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, coughing a little as they make their way out of the bathroom and towards the elevator. “Not as much as p-p hh ollen or …heh… other st-stuff like th-that…ehh !…” 

He trails off, eyes fluttering a little as if just the wordmakes his nose tickle. He sniffles a little, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable manner, shaking his head a tad and appearing to stop the sneeze for the time being. Angel bites his lip and looks away. He knows Husk hates sneezing freely without a handkerchief, especially when he’s so close to Angel like this, but Angel…definitely doesn’t mind.

“It kinda feels like…when you havbe a cold,” Husk mutters, his voice stuffy. “Makes mby throat and chest and ndose all…i hh tchy… heh ! heh-shoo! ihh… ishhuh! sniff . Ugh, I’mb sorry, thadt’s gross…”

Husk winces, having aimed the sneezes off to the side, but not able to cover.

“It’s…not,” Angel forces himself to say, his voice coming out a bit higher than usual. “I know you can’t help it, don’t worry about it.”

Husk glances at him as they enter the elevator, and the bastard smiles a little. 

“I literally just finished vomiting and you’re turned on,” he chuckles, making Angel flush. 

“I…not on purpose,” he mutters, pressing the button for the second floor. “Sorry, I swear I’m not…I don’t like that you’re feeling so shitty—“

“Hey,” Husk cuts him off, wheezing a little. “I was just teasing. I know. S’ kinda nice t’ know that even when I’m a mess like this you still…like me,” he mumbles, giving a dry chuckle that turns into a harsh cough, bending at the waist. Angel winces, rubbing his back, trying to soothe him a little. 

“Fuckin’ hell Husk,” he whispers, “m’ so sorry. I swear I made sure there was no seafood—“

“Shh,” Husk shushes him, waving him off as the coughing dies down. “Shut up. Could be a new allergy. Who knows. S’ not…your fault.” 

The elevator dings, and Husk moves towards the door, but stumbles a little, suddenly clutching his head. Angel quickly catches him before he can slip and fall, wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s waist for support. 

“Fuck, sorry,” Husk hisses through grit teeth. “Got…real dizzy all the sudden.”

“That’s normal,” Angel says softly, recalling everything he’d read about these kind of non-deadly allergic reactions. “Y’ just don’ have enough oxygen in that little body a’ yours right now. It’ll pass, I promise.” 

Rubbing his boyfriend's shoulders, Angel helps him down the hall and to his room.

“You need Zyrtec and rest,” he murmurs, opening Husk’s door with his sixth set of arms so he can keep the other four around his partner.  Husk hums in agreement, letting Angel gently guide him over to the bed and sit him down. With Husk seated, Angel quickly rummages through his bedside drawer for his inhaler, handing it to the other man before hurrying into the bathroom to grab antihistamines, nausea medication, and water. 

“Alright, go nice and slow,” Angel advises, handing Husk the pills and the water. “You need to keep these down okay?” Husk, though already turning a bit green at the thought of ingesting anything, nods.”

“I…I’ll try,” he replies, voice shaky, and Angel’s heart cracks open a little. He places a gentle kiss on Husk’s temple, pleased to find that the inhaler does seem to have helped with Husk’s breathing, at least slightly. 

Husk manages to swallow the pills, shuddering a little as they go down. He sneezes then, once, twice, three times in rapid, exhausted sounding succession.

“ hah …hah-choo! ahh… ahh-choo. tchu!”

The last one is tiny and high pitched, sounding more like Angel’s sneezes. Angel fidgets with gloves, wanting to help but not sure what else he can do. Unable to stand doing nothing, he pulls out his phone and does a quick search, his face going pale at the results. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, glancing up at Husk who meets his eyes. 

“Apparently uh. Some Thai food is cooked using…fish oil. Instead of the regular stuff. Shit, fuck, god damnit, I’m sorry Husk, I should’ve…been more careful, or… not pushed you so hard to try it—“

Angel is cut off as Husk bursts out laughing. He stares at his boyfriend, face blank, wondering if maybe Husk has finally lost his mind. 

“Sorry,” Husk wheezes in between fits of laughter. “Sorry, m’ just…remembering how…Cherri said…’trying new things won’t kill you’.” 

His partner continues to crack up, and Angel looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“It’s not funny,” he says pointedly, though he can’t stop the tiny giggle that escapes him afterwards, seeing his boyfriend cutting up so hard.

Unfortunately, the moment doesn’t last long as Husk is cut off by a large bout of coughing. Angel is at his side instantly, offering him some small sips of water and rubbing his back. 

“Look what ya’ did t’ yourself,” he chastises his boyfriend, huffing a little. “I told you it wasn’t funny.”

“It was very funny,” Husk chokes out in between coughs, still laughing a little. “This is just—an unfortunate result.”

The coughing finally dies down and Angel does another quick Google search, still wanting to help somehow. 

“They say ginger and peppermint tea helps with breathing and nausea,” he says, scrolling. “Why don’t I make you some of that stuff the doctor gave us for your asthma? It should help with this too.”

“Nooo,” Husk mumbles, shaking his head and flopping onto his side, holding his stomach and wincing a little in pain. “Then you’ll have a reaction.”

Angel rolls his eyes. “I’ll ask someone else to make it. And I’ll sit far away while you drink, it won’t be that bad.”

“I don’t want you far away,” Husk whines sleepily, rolling over to wrap his arms around Angel’s waist and burying his head into his leg. “I want you right here.”

Angel heaves a sigh, knowing Husk should drink the damn tea, but also unable to keep himself from smiling at how cute his boyfriend is.

“I’ll come cuddle you right after you finish it,” he tries to assure the shorter man, gently running his fingers through Husk’s hair, massaging his scalp. 

Husk whimpers, his arms tightening around Angel’s arm as another wave of nausea hits him, causing his face to turn white, his breathing to become labored. He brings his knees in over his stomach, moaning a little, his face contorted in pain.

“Husk,” Angel whispers, biting his lip. “Let me—“

“Please—shut up for a second,” Husk manages to get out, hissing a little and releasing Angel’s waist so he can bring his hands to his own temples. “I’m—really tryna’ concentrate on not puking here.”

Angel does as he’s told, sitting in silence, feeling his heart ache as he watches Husk try and take several shaky breaths without coughing, slowly letting air out through his cheeks and whimpering occasionally. Finally, the wave seems to pass and Husk lets out a shaking exhale of relief, blinking a few times and slowly sitting up. 

“Sorry for snapping,” he mutters quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he has a headache. He probably does. Angel shakes his head instantly. 

“S’ fine, you ain’t feelin’ well. Be bitchy t’ me, I don’ mind.” 

Husk gives a small, forced chuckle at that, pausing to cough a little, sniffling. 

“Please let me get you some tea?” Angel begs, running a gentle hand over Husk’s clammy forehead. “It really should help with the nausea.” Husk, looking wary, finally relents, giving a little nod. Angel stands up and presses a gentle kiss against his forehead. 

“I’ll be right back,” he insists, hurrying out the door and down the stairs into the lounge. At his appearance, everyone instantly looks up at him, looking worried. 

“Is he okay?” Cherri asks, raising an eyebrow. “He looked…not great.”

“He’s…just got an upset stomach,” Angel lies, knowing that if he tells them what’s really going on, Charlie will go berserk, insisting on a doctor's visit, on helping, on seeing him. All of which are the opposite of what Husk probably wants. 

“Cherri could I…get your help with something in the kitchen?” He asks his friend softly, noticing Charlie and Vaggie’s wary glances. 

“Not to be that person, but that sounds distinctly drug related,” Vaggie points out, causing Charlie’s eyes to widen in alarm. 

“Oh god, Angel, do you need to talk—“

“Jesus, no!” Angel snaps, exasperated. “My god, we ain’t doin’ drugs, I just need Cherri to make Husk some a’ that tea. It’ll help settle his stomach but I can make it without fuckin’ dying.”

Charlie instantly relaxes, looking a bit guilty. 

“Oh,” she mutters sheepishly, biting her lip. “Right, sorry for erm. Jumping to conclusions.”

“Damn right,” Cherri huffs angrily, crossing her arms. “Just because I still like to have fun, don’t mean I’d let this fuckhead ruin all his progress.” 

“You’re right,” Vaggie hurries to assuage her, looking apologetic. “We’re sorry, like we said—“

“Oh for the love of god ,” Angel cuts in, gritting his teeth. “You can apologize and braid each other's hair later, Cherri, kitchen, now .”

Cherri snorts, but stands, glancing over her shoulder at Vaggie. 

“He’s so touchy feely now that he’s in love,” she teases, and Vaggie laughs.

“You should see him when Husk leaves for a job. He paces around the lobby like a maniac and checks his phone every three seconds, waiting for him to come back. Like a lost puppy.” 

 Even Charlie can’t resist giggling at that, and Angel scowls at all of them. 

“You all as friends is a real bummer,” he states flatly, dragging Cherri out the door behind him. 

Cherri makes quick work of the tea, Angel taking care to stay as far away from the stuff as humanly possible. When it’s done, he shoots her a quick thank you and tells her to finish the movie; he and Husk will watch it some other time. 

As he ascends the stairs, he wishes he’d made Cherri carry the mug. The steam wafts up around his nose and causes his whole body to prickle.

“ ehhhh… ” 

He starts to hitch, and he tries to hold his breath, not wanting to spill and burn himself. He manages to make it up the stairs before being forced to take a breath, making sure to inhale through his mouth. It doesn’t matter. Being a spider, his stupid body can detect the scent regardless, and he coughs a little, a small tickle forming in his throat and slowly creeping its way up into his nose. 

He hurries to Husk’s room, managing to get the door open before—

“ heh…hehh …heh-tchu! ehhh -tchu! chu!”

He holds the mug out, away from his body with one hand, trying hard not to spill. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Husk hurrying over to take the hot liquid from him, and he gives his boyfriend an apologetic look before he’s forced to turn away into his elbow.

“ ihhh …ishhu! ehhshu! ihh-tshuh! tshhu! F-fuck, s-sorr…suhhh …heh-tchu! hah…heh ! Hah-CHU! Sorry, Jesus .”

Husk has returned to the far side of the bed, trying to keep the mug as far away from Angel as possible. Angel catches him staring though, and gives a small chuckle, scrubbing a little at his nose with his wrist. 

“Quit starin’ at me and drink,” he says, sniffling a little and taking a deep breath, finally getting some relief. Husk’s face flushes, and he clears his throat, averting his eyes. 

“Go slow okay?” Angel advises as he seats himself carefully in his designated arm chair on the opposite side of the room. “Tiny sips. Don’t worry if you can’t finish. Even a little bit of the pe hhh… ” he trais off, his nose twitching a little as he brings his wrist underneath, trying to stop the sneeze. “The…the p-pepper~ hh ~mint should… heh …help, fuck, I’ hh m gonna…hahtchuh! sniff . Mm, scuse’ mbe.”

Husk is watching him unabashedly now, taking small, slow sips of his tea. 

“Does…does just the word make you..?” His boyfriend trails off quietly, his face going a bit red. Angel laughs. 

“Ahh, yeah, sometimes,” he giggles, shaking his head. “Maybe when you’re feeling better we can ah. Experiment with that a little,” he teases flirtatiously, loving the way his boyfriend turns the most delectable shade of pink at the suggestion. 

“How’re you feeling?” Angel asks, not wanting to get the other man too worked up while he was in this sorry state. Husk blinks, coming back to himself a little.

“Uh, better,” he discerns after a moment, looking down at himself. “The hives are going away. An’ breathing is um. Easier.”

Angel lets his own shoulder sag a little in relief. 

“Good,” he murmurs, humming a bit. “How long do your reactions usually last?”

Husk looks up, as if trying to recall. 

“It depends,” he says, shrugging a little and taking a small sip of his tea. He looks so…homely right now, curled up on the bed, holding the mug close to his chest, blinking sleepily. Angel has to resist the urge to cuddle him senseless. 

“This one is kinda short, probably because I didn’t eat actual fish,” he chuckles slightly. “The last one I had, after I um. I ate your…you know…”

“When you ate the Aqua Pazza I made fa’ you, knowing full well you were allergic ta’ fish, because you had a crush on me and didn’t want to tell me no?” Angel finishes for him, shooting the other man a glare. Husk blushes, fiddling with the comforter.

“Yeah, that one,” he affirms sheepishly, causing Angel to pinch between his eyebrows in exasperation. “It ah, lasted like two hours. An’ without meds they can last like four. Fuckin’ sucks. Least’ with hay fever I can just take a shower.”

“Maybe y’ should start carrying Zyrtec with you,” Angel suggests, wincing. 

Husk, the stubborn asshole, crosses his arms, huffing. 

“I already gotta carry my fuckin’ inhaler everywhere,” he grouches. “The hell am I, a walking pharmacy?”

Angel rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ cry baby,” he scoffs. “I carry like 12 things with me everywhere I go. Make-up, hand sanitizer, cellphone, wallet, Tylenol, perfume—“

“Okay, I get it,” Husk grumbles, cutting him off. “But you carry a purse. I ain’t doin’ that.”

“Why not?” Angel teases. “Is ya’ poor masculinity too fragile?”

“No,” Husk says flatly, “I don’…like the way it feels when it hits my thigh,” he frowns. “Y’ know, when you walk, and it like. Bounces against yer’ leg?” 

This makes Angel crack up, holding his stomach from laughing so hard. 

“What?!” Husk says defensively, looking embarrassed. “S’ the truth!”

“I’m sorry , that was just—the most YOU answer I eva’ fuckin’ heard,” Angel snorts, fighting to stop giggling.

Husk growls at him, going back to his tea, blushing a little. Angel, smirking at him, takes out his phone and scrolls through Instagram, waiting for Husk to finish, pausing occasionally to rub at his nose. Even from all the way over here the stuff makes his sinuses all tingly.

“I’m done,” Husk says definitively after a moment, setting the now empty mug down and glancing at Angel shyly. “Can you…will you c’mere now?”

Angel chuckles. As much as he hates to see Husk suffer, the other man, typically very reserved, gets so clingy when he doesn’t feel well. It’s a fun dynamic change, given that sometimes Husk won’t even allow hand holding in public. He’s much more relaxed around their friends, but around anyone else, any kind of PDA makes him so flustered and nervous. 

“Course,” Angel giggles, rolling out of the arm chair and coming over to crawl onto the bed. Unfortunately, even with the drink gone, the traces of peppermint and ginger in the now empty mug immediately make his nose tickle like crazy.

“ Ohh fuck, n hh ope, too c-close, I’ hh m… ehhh ! eh-tchu! chu! hah…hahh ! hahhtchhiew!!”

Husk, the motherfucker, laughs at him, staring in disbelief as Angel continues to sneeze, glaring at the shorter man. 

“Jesus,” Husk chuckles, shaking his head a little, hurriedly grabbing the mug and hopping off the bed, carrying it over to the door. He cracks it open, and sticks the mug out in the hall, still laughing a little. “You really can’t stand this stuff can’ ya’ Legs?”

Angel scowls at him, his cheeks turning red. He opens his mouth to defend himself but gasps instead, his nose still itching like crazy. 

“hehh! hehtchuh! iihhshu! shu! hahh…hahh!…ehh? sniiff. F-fucgk o~hh-off,” he manages, pressing a finger against his nose, trying to stop, his voice still wavering.

“Sorry, sorry,” Husk chuckles, returning to the bedside and sitting down. “You’re jus’ so fuckin’ sensative . It’s cute.” Angel rolls his eyes, forced to duck into his elbow with several more—

“chx! ehh-chx! tchu! chu! ehh…hah …hahtch! mm-chu! ksh-shu! chx! sniiff . Oh mby god,” he finally manages, fighting to catch his breath. Thankfully, this fit wasn’t quite so bad, full of several tiny sneezes as the tickle slowly died down. Husk leans over then, and pulls a spare handkerchief out of his bedside drawer, offering to Angel with a small smile. Angel’s heart melts a little at the sweetness of the gesture, and he takes it gratefully, blowing his nose just a little. 

Husk opens his mouth to say something, but breaks off, coughing slightly, the mere exhaustion of walking across the room making his wheeze even worse. Angel winces, desperately trying to get his nose under control.

“Shit, I’m s-s hh orry,” he hitches, scrubbing at his nose. “I didn’t mean t’ make ya’…g hh et up… ehh…hehh ? …snifff , ah, nope, nope, I’m good, all… ehh? …a hh ll done.” 

Husk chuckles a little bit in between coughs, giving Angel’s leg a little squeeze. 

“S’ okay,” he rasps, smiling, leaning into Angel’s side. “Sneeze if you need to.”

“I didn’t mean to make you get up,” Angel mumbles miserably, sniffling a little, his nose still tingling. “Did the tea help at least?”

Husk, his breathing improving slightly being propped up on Angel’s arm, hums a bit. 

“Yeah, a lot actually,” he admits, snuggling further into Angel’s side. “My stomach’s way better now.”

He’s started absentmindedly scratching at his arm now, coughing a little.

“Nooo,” Angel chides, gently catching Husk’s wrist. “Try not to scratch love, you’ll make it worse.”

Husk lets out a whine, kicking his feet a little in childlike fashion Angel finds so cute it’s criminal.

“But it itchessss,” Husk moans, burying his head in Angel’s shoulder and giving an uncomfortable little moan. Angel sighs. 

“I know baby. I’m sorry, I thought they were getting better.”

Husk huffs a little, wrapping his arms around Angel’s to keep himself from scratching.

“They are,” he mumbles, eyes screwed shut. “I was just erm…distracted, before,” he says, glancing up at Angel, cheeks flushing. “Now I’m…thinking about it.”

Angel laughs, wiggling down so he’s at eye level with Husk, pressing in close to him. 

“I could bring the mug back in here if you think it’ll help,” he jokes, loving the way Husk’s face turns bright red. 

“No,” he scoffs, looking sheepish. “Don’ do that to yourself, I’ll just feel guilty.”

Angel presses a tender kiss to his temple, smiling. 

“I know. M’ not tryna get ya’ worked up anyhow, not till y’ can breathe normally. But, fa’ the record, I would do it, if I thought it would help,” he says, smirking. 

Husk rolls his eyes, and coughs a little, the blush on his cheeks evident.

“How bout’ a different distraction?” Angel suggests. “We could turn on a movie?”

Husk frowns a little at that, suddenly looking guilty. 

“I ah. I’m sorry I ruined movie night for ya’,” he huffs, looking up at the ceiling. “Y’ can go back down and keep watchin’ if you want. Nothin’ else t’ do up here cept’ wait it out.”

Angel sighs, smiling a little, pulling his boyfriend in close. 

“Will ya’ eva’ quit sayin’ stupid shit?” He chuckles, carding his fingers through Husk’s hair, pleased as the other man starts to purr a little, punctuated by small coughs every now and then. “I don’ care about one stupid movie, I jus’ wanna be with you, even if ya’ ain’t feelin’ well. If you really want, we can turn the scary clown movie on up here though.” 

Husk snorts at that, moving to scratch his arm then stopping himself halfway. 

“That…sounds good,” he says, yawing against Angel’s chest, starting to sound a little sleepy. Angel bites his tongue to keep from squealing at how unbelievably adorable he is. 

“Sure you don’t wanna watch something you haven’t seen?” Angel asks, rubbing Husk’s back in a small circle, avoiding the red patches. “Might be more of a distraction that way.”

At this, Husk glances up, smirking. 

“You tryna get out a’ watching the scary movie Legs?” he teases, looking smug. Angel scowls, flicking him on the nose. He regrets it instantly (sort of) as Husk scrunches up his nose, and bobs against Angel’s chest with three little—

“huh-shh! chgx! huh… hep-tchuh! Ah, fuck, sorry,” his boyfriend says, flushing scarlet. “Couldn’t…stop that last one—“

“Quit bein’ all embarrassed an’ adorable,” Angel teases, subtly crossing his legs to hide just how fucking hot he found that. “You know I don’ mind. And I am not scared,” he says defensively, crossing his arms, expression souring. “I ain’t eva’ seen it before, I want to finish it. I was trying to be considerate, you asshole.”

Husk laughs, though it turns into a gentle cough against Angel’s chest. Angel rubs his shoulders soothingly. 

“I’d like t’ finish it,” Husk says, yawing again. “Haven’t seen it in a while, so it’ll still distract me. Sides’, watching you get all jumpy is very entertaining,” he chuckles, earning him a little pinch.

“What?!” He laughs, and Angel is pleased to note that his wheezing sounds a little better. “I like that you’re such a scaredy cat, it’s cute. Plus, I get t’ be all…gentlemen like an’ let you hide in my shoulder.” 

Husk blushes a little at that admission, and it makes Angel burst out into a fit of giggles. 

“You want me t’ get scared shitless so you can play the stoic hero?” he cackles, making Husk avert his eyes, looking miffed. 

“Let me have this,” he grouches, pouting. “I feel like garbage.”

Angel forces himself to stop laughing, giving Husk a peck on the cheek.

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, getting up and turning on the TV, angling it towards the bed. “Anythin’ fa’ you Whiskers. But no makin’ fun a’ me in front of anyone else,” he says, glaring over his shoulder. “Vaggie already has too much shit ta’ lord ova’ me.”

Husk snorts, smiling as Angel returns to his side, the movie picking up where it left off downstairs. 

Husk instantly wraps his arms around Angel’s waist, burrowing into his side. As he does so, sleepy and sluggish as he is, he doesn’t notice that he accidentally pins Angel’s arms against his sides. A harmless, totally innocent mistake, but Angel can’t help the way he flinches. His whole body tenses, adrenaline suddenly flooding his veins as he instinctively jerks to free himself, letting out a little yelp of panic.

“Fuck,” Husk says, pulling back instantly, his expression stricken, his face going absolutely white.. “Oh god, I didn’t realize, I’m—I’m so sorry Angel, I shouldn’t have—“

“I-it’s okay,” Angel tries to reassure him, though the waiver in his voice undermines his efforts. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, forcing his heart to slow, and counts backwards from ten in his head, first normally, then even numbers, then odd numbers, the way he and Charlie practiced.

When he opens his eyes, the shaky feeling slowly leaving his body, the look on Husk’s face is nothing short of gut wrenching.

“I…it was an accident,” his boyfriend whispers, and Angel can hear his throat constricting. “I swear, I would never—fuck, that was so careless of me, I didn’t mean too—“

“ Husk ,” Angel cuts him off, shushing him. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine, I know it was an accident. You don’ feel well, it’s okay.”

“I—still,” Husk rasps, coughing a little. “I didn’t—I shouldn’t—“

“Baby,” Angel cuts him off, taking his hand, shushing him. From where they touch, he can feel the poor man’s chest tightening with anxiety, his airways closing up a bit. “Husk. Breathe . I promise you, it’s alright, you just startled me. I’m still…workin’ on some shit, s’ got nothin’ to do with you. It’s very sweet a’ you, ta’ apologize, but you’re always so careful, so considerate. An’ I appreciate it, but I don’t expect ya’ to…analyze every little touch or…freak out over little accidents like that.  We’re dating now, we’re togethernow, little stuff like that is bound ta’ happen, okay?”

Husk takes a shaky inhale, and Angel can see him straining, unable to get enough air. Angel gently cups both sides of the other man’s face, bringing their foreheads together. 

“Deep breath baby,” he whispers, using his second set of arms to bring Husk’s hand to his own chest, demonstrating. Husk tries to follow him, his own chest rising and falling as Angel’s does, albeit more shuddery and broken. Finally, both of them seem to calm, listening to the sound of the others breathing.

Husk pulls back gently, giving Angel’s hand a squeeze.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, and Angel nods, meaning it.

“I am,” he stresses. “I promise. And if I’m ever not, I promise to…ask ya’, for space, for a minute alone, whatever. Okay?”

Husk nods, his gaze still weary, but seeming to relax a bit. He breaks off coughing then, a much milder fit than before but still worrisome sounding as it shakes his frame. Angel brings his arms around him, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you feel so poorly sweety,” he murmurs as Husk finally manages to catch his breath, blinking. The relief is short lived however as he breaks off with two short—

“Heh-choo! ihh… ihh-shuh!”

The poor guy sniffles miserably and paws at his nose, looking like he wishes he could claw the damn thing off. He squirms a little, clearly fighting the urge to scratch, his eyes screwing shut. 

“Ugh, everything burns,” he mumbles hoarsely, and Angel’s heart aches. 

“Well let’s play the movie,” he suggests, reaching the remote. “Help you take your mind off it.”

Husk nods a little, clearing his throat and absentmindedly rubbing his chest. As the movie begins to play, Angel takes it upon himself to scoot in close to Husk, knowing that the other man won’t dare initiate contact after what just happened. He wraps his arms gently around Husk’s waist and lays his head on the other man’s shoulder, trying to show him that everything really is alright. He feels Husk relax a little, and he puts an arm around Angel’s shoulder. 

The first big jump scare comes about an hour in, very unexpectedly, and Angel is ashamed to admit he actually screams… loudly. Husk cracks up, looking way too amused as Angel lets out a string of curses and throws the bottle of Zyrtec at the television. The next scare is a little easier, it being obvious that it’s building, and Angel squirms a little, burying himself further into Husk’s embrace and covering his eyes, peeking through his fingers, his shoulders rapidly tensing and relaxing as his body anticipates whatever is coming. 

“Angel, if it’s bothering you this much just don’t watch,” Husk chuckles, giving his boyfriends shoulder a squeeze.

“Fuck off,” Angel growls through grit teeth, “if I don’ watch you’ll neva’ let me live it down, you’ll tease me about it fa’ the rest of - HOLY motHer fuCking Christ, I knew it, I knew you shouldn’ta opened that door you stupid bitch!”

Husk is cackling, laugh-tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as Angel’s face burns with embarrassment, his body trembling just a little.

“C’mere,” his boyfriend says in between chuckles, pulling him in and rubbing his shoulders. “I am absolutely going to tease you about this until the end of time, but we can seriously turn it off if you want to.”

“No,” Angel insists, definitely, “I made it this far, no way I ain’t finishing it now. Fuck you if you ever suggest another horror movie though, why the hell do people enjoy this?”

Husk chuckles, planting a gentle kiss on his pouting partner’s forehead. 

“I don’ know, some people like the suspense. Some people think it’s romantic, they use it as an excuse t’ cuddle.”

“I don’t know if this qualifies as cuddling,” Angel says shakily, “more like, clinging-ta’-you-for-dear-fuckin’-life.”

This makes Husk laugh again, and Angel smiles a little, pleased that the other man’s mind seems to be off his symptoms, even if it now is focused on Angel’s own embarrassing paranoia.

By the time the movie finishes, Husk is doing much better, his hives almost gone and his breathing coming much easier. Angel, meanwhile, is white as a sheet, eyes wide as he clutches the comforter, staring at the rolling credits, a bit frozen for the time being. 

“You doin’ okay Legs?” Husk chuckles, leaning over to turn off the tv. Angel manages a stiff nod, eyes unmoving from the now blank screen. 

“Peachy,” he says dryly, looking anything but. “On a totally unrelated note can we um, maybe sleep with the lamp on?”

Husk laughs, ruffling Angel’s hair playfully and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Of course kid. Whatever you need.”

[coolbeans18]

We’re so back! It takes a hot second to get to the sneezing in this one but there’s LOTS at the end to make up for it:) enjoy!

TW! Mentiones of SA, abuse, PTSD and flashbacks. Take care 💕

Ch. 8: Dreams and Stars 

Angel woke to the sound of someone crying. He blinks sleepily, rubbing his eyes and looking around, a bit confused at first. Suddenly, a sharp prick in his side makes him jolt, and he looks down to see Husk, his brow furrowed, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

 

The poor man doesn’t appear to be awake, but he’s crying in his sleep, tears streaking his face as he emits tiny whimpers and gasps, choking on his own breath. He has his arms wrapped around Angel and is holding on to his waist tightly, as if he’s afraid the other man will vanish into thin air. His tight grip is what caused the sudden pain in Angel’s side; one of Husk’s claws has accidentally, just barely, pierced Angel’s skin, as he holds onto Angel like a lifeline. 

 

Everything in Angel aches to hold him, to try and rouse him, to do something to help. But he knows that’s not what he’s supposed to do. Husk has made him swear countless times that he wouldn’t try to wake him during his nightmares, lest he accidentally hurt Angel. Instead, Angel was supposed to either get up and go sleep in the other room, or stack pillows between them if he didn’t want to be alone. Angel didn’t love this arrangement but it was a requirement of Husk’s if Angel wanted them to sleep in the same bed. 

 

Unfortunately, Angel found himself in a bit of a pickle. With Husk’s arms wrapped around him, his head on Angel’s chest, he couldn’t exactly move without waking Husk…he was going to have to break one of the other man’s rules either way. 

 

Knowing that Husk tended to thrash a bit when he woke up, (and that Angel definitely wasn't strong enough to restrain his boyfriend) he opted for twisting out of Husk’s grasp as quickly as possible, making it safely out of the bed just as Husk bolted upright, woken by the jostling. 

 

Angel winced. His boyfriend didn’t deserve that kind of rough wake up, but there hadn’t been any other alternative. Husk is breathing hard, his whole frame trembling as his eyes look around wildly, unable to make out much of anything in the dark. His gaze is panicked and unfocused, and he suddenly brings his hands up to cover his own ears, flinching at some sound Angel can’t hear. His heart cracks, seeing Husk there, huddled on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, as he searches the darkness for some invisible terror, still caught in his nightmare. He longs to call out to his boyfriend, but Husk had given him strict instructions that he wasn’t to make any sudden sounds or movements; they’d just startle the poor guy more. So Angel waits, watching as his boyfriend’s pupils slowly dilate, adjusting to allow him to see in the dark.

 

Finally, hands still cupped over his ears, Husk’s eyes find him, and he blinks a few times, looking scared and bewildered. 

 

“I—Angel?” Husk whispers, sounding unsure. Angel knows this is normal; when Husk woke up from flashbacks like this it often took him a minute to be able to tell the difference between his dreams and reality. Still, it made Angel’s chest hurt, seeing his boyfriend stuck like this, caught between his past and present, confused and afraid. 

 

“Yeah Whiskers it’s me,” he replies softly, slowly stepping closer to the bed. He stops short however as Husk flinches; not at him, but at some lingering sound that Angel can’t hear. His boyfriend suddenly squeezes his eyes shut and clamps down on his ears harder, whimpering. Fuck, Angel wants to hold him. To cradle him, to save him from whatever is still chasing him, even now that he’s awake. He bites his lip and tells himself that he’ll be able to soon.

 

“Husk,” he tries quietly, then realizes his boyfriend probably can’t hear him. He knows he’s breaking the rules, but he can’t help himself from hesitantly reaching out and putting a gentle hand on Husk’s shoulder. The other man’s eyes snap open and meet his, his breathing erratic and startled. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Angel whispers, instantly stepping back again, but holding Husk’s gaze and continuing to talk, hoping that seeing his mouth move will at least motivate Husk to uncover his ears. “Husk, baby, come back to me. It wasn’t real. It was just a dream.”

 

He repeats this a second time, relieved to see Husk slowly lower his shaking hands, trying to listen, as whatever sound he was still hearing appears to fade.

 

“There you go,” Angel encourages softly. “Can you hear me now? You were having a nightmare. You’re awake now. You’re in my room, with me.”

 

Relief floods his chest as he watches recognition gradually overtake Husk’s face, his expression changing from one of fear and confusion to wary awareness and understanding.

 

“Can I come sit?” Angel asks quietly, gesturing to the edge of the bed. Husk, swallowing, nods, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, though the stiff tension in his back remains. 

 

Angel carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed. The two sit in silence for several moments, Angel wanting to just let Husk breathe for a while. 

 

After a few minutes have passed, Angel is pleased to hear his partner’s ragged panting finally begin to slow. With tentative fingers, Angel reaches out towards Husk; not touching him, but just offering his hand if Husk wants it, the way Husk always did for him, letting him choose. 

 

Gingerly, Husk takes his hand. 

 

They sit hand in hand for a bit, still not speaking. Angel traces Husk’s knuckles with his thumb, drawing tiny circles there. Finally, when he feels Husk’s pulse begin to slow, he speaks. 

 

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

 

Husk let’s out a shaky sigh, letting his head drop into his free hand in utter exhaustion. 

 

“I was—there were bombs,” he says quietly, sort of forcing the words from his throat. “Could still—hear em’ when I woke up. I couldn’t—they were so loud, I was so sure it was real…” 

 

He trails off, letting go of Angel's hand and wrapping his arms and wings around himself as he tucks his head into his knees, shuddering a little. Angel feels like he’s been shot with a cannon, a gaping, hollow hole where his stomach and lungs should be. 

 

“Fuck,” he says eloquently, cursing himself for not knowing what to say. What did you say to something like that?

 

“Yeah,” Husk replies drly. “Fuck.”

 

Angel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Then, he stands, rather abruptly, causing Husk to flinch a little. 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes immediately, wincing. “I just—have an idea. I’ll be right back, just running inta’ the bathroom.”

 

He scurries around the bed, stepping over Fat Nugget’s, who’s slumbering right in the middle of the damn carpet. 

 

Once there, he turns on the cold water, and wets a washcloth, wringing it out and returning to the room, pausing on the way over to grab something out of his bedside drawer. 

 

He returns to his spot, this time perching just a little closer to Husk, and showing his boyfriend what he’s brought. 

 

“For your forehead,” he explains, showing Husk the cool cloth. “And fa’…eating,” he chuckles a little, showing his boyfriend the chocolate bar he’s brought. Husk glances up at him, looking very small and very tired. 

 

“You mentioned um. You mentioned ta’ me that Charlie said y’ should try to…activate your senses?” Angel murmurs quietly, fiddling with the washcloth. “I figured, the feeling of the cold an’ the taste a’ the chocolate might help…bring ya’ back ta’ yourself a little.”

 

At this, Husk looks at him with an expression Angel can’t place. 

 

“Okay,” the other man finally replies, his voice a bit hoarse. “We can…try it.”

 

Angel unwraps the Hershey bar and hands it to Husk, watching as the other man takes a small, tentative bite. Then, very slowly, he brings the cloth up to Husk’s forehead, letting it hover just above his clammy skin. 

 

“Can I?” He whispers, asking permission. Husk nods, and Angel gently brings the cold cloth up to wipe some of the sweat off Husk’s brow, then presses it there, holding in place. 

 

With a shaky exhale, Husk closes his eyes, slowly chewing his chocolate and taking deep breaths through his nose. 

 

“This…is helping,” he whispers softly, sitting very still, save for the small squeeze he gives Angel’s free hand. Angel feels himself smile a little. 

 

They stay like that for several more minutes, Husk finishing his chocolate bar in silence and savoring the cold compression on his face. 

 

“S’ kind of annoying,” Husk pipes up suddenly, slowly opening his eyes, a small frown forming on his face. “When Charlie suggested this “activatin’ yer senses” shit, I told her it was stupid,” he grumbles, looking away with a tiny huff. “Now I hafta’ apologize to her. C’n already see her smug little face.”

 

Angel giggles a little, using the compress to dab at Husk’s cheeks and remove some of the leftover tear streaks there.

 

“She’s kinda always right about this typa’ shit huh?” He chuckles. “It is pretty annoying.”

 

Husk actually manages a small laugh, seeming like he’s finally relaxing a little, when he notices the red stain on Angel’s tank top.

 

“You’re bleeding,” he remarks, frowning. Before Angel can protest, Husk instantly pulls up his shirt to take a look. When he sees the small puncture wound, his face goes white. 

 

“Oh god,” he says, voice hollow, sucking in a breath. “Oh god, oh fuck, I hurt you—“

 

“It’s barely a scratch,” Angel cuts him off, already knowing it’s no use; he can see the look in Husk’s eyes, can see the train spiraling off the tracks.

 

“Husk, it’s just a tiny little cut,” he implores, reaching for the other man’s hands to try and provide some comfort. But Husk flinches, yanking back, pressing himself up against the headboard, as far away from Angel as possible. 

 

“I knew this would happen,” his boyfriend whispers, his voice coming out broken and forced. “I should’ve never agreed to sleeping in the same bed, fuck, this was so fucking stupid—“

 

“Husk, baby, please,” Angel interjects, trying one last time to salvage this before Husk is completely lost to self destruction. “It was just an accident, I didn’t even notice it until just now—“

 

“Angel, stop!” 

 

Angel goes quiet instantly as Husk borderline shouts at him, a growl behind his words. His boyfriend is breathing hard, his chest heaving erratically as if he’s having trouble getting enough air. His eyes take on a hazy, almost feverish sheen and his hands clench and unclench at his sides, rapidly, his whole body starting to shake. Angel, being too well versed in this area, recognizes the signs of a building panic attack. Which, for Husk, also meant an asthma attack. 

 

“I hurt you,” his boyfriend stutters miserably, fisting his hands in his hair and panting, his throat constricting. “I hurt you, I knew I would hurt you, I knew it and I stayed anyway…”

 

He continues rambling on like this, his sentences repatadory and noncoherent, the attack sucking him into a black hole of self loathing, until he’s struggling to form words, the air in his lungs having abandoned him. 

 

Angel hurriedly gets up and fumbles in his nightstand for Husk’s spare inhaler, struggling to locate it in the dark. He finally feels his fingers close around it, and he returns to the bedside, holding it out, then taking a hesitant step backwards and repeating the action more slowly, as Husk continues to flinch and lean away whenever he gets close. Finally, Angel settles for setting the inhaler next to Husk, letting the other man take it once he’s out of arm's reach. It’s almost like Husk won’t even risk touching him with his claws, even to take something out of his hand. 

 

Husk takes his inhaler, thankfully, which seems to resolve the asthma attack for the time being, but the panic attack is still ongoing, and Husk’s eyes stay fixated on the red blood staining Angel’s night shirt, hyperventilating. 

 

Angel doesn’t know what to do. He wants to hold Husk, to talk to him, to whisper reassuring things to him and stroke his hair, his back, his shoulders. But Husk clearly doesn’t want touch or words right now; the only two love languages Angel is any good at. He curses internally, fidgeting with the bed spread. He could go change. Cleaning the blood up might help Husk stop fixating on it. But he doesn’t want to leave Husk alone like this, even for just a moment. He wrestles with both options, finally deciding to go patch himself up as quickly as humanly possible; the longer Husk stares at the wound—no, the tiny scratch—on his side, the worse he seems to get. 

 

Angel discards his shirt and grabs a fresh one, angling away from Husk as he grabs disinfectant and a bandaid and applies them both to the cut. A bandaid. That’s all it takes to patch it. And Husk is having a mental breakdown. Angel would almost find it sweet, if he wasn’t so god damn worried that Husk was never going to touch him again. 

 

He returns to the bed, leaving ample space between himself and his boyfriend, who, thankfully, does stop hyper fixating on the blood and instead squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering slightly as his body continues to tremble.

 

They sit in silence for what feels like hours. It’s agonizing, sitting here, not knowing how he can help Husk, so to Angel, it feels like an eternity passes before the attack finally subsides. In reality, it lasts about 15 minutes. 

 

Husk’s shaking gradually stops, his breathing returning to a relative normal as he takes one last hit on his inhaler. He slowly opens his eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek and coming back to himself a little bit, his eyes no longer looking panicked or lost. He glances at Angel, who's watching him, and his expression becomes drawn and closed off. 

 

“I’m—going to go sleep in my room,” he says gruffly, looking away. Angel feels his heart crumbling like degrading chalk. 

 

“Husk,” he pleads, but stops as the other man cuts him off with a sharp look. Angel bites his lip and averts his eyes. 

 

“I…okay,” he forces himself to say, trying not to do something stupid like cry. “If that’s—what you want.”

 

Without a word, Husk gets up and makes his way to the door. Nuggs, having woken, trots after him, happily oblivious, thinking they’re taking a field trip. When Husk exits the room, shutting the door behind him and locking Nuggs inside, the little pig snorts in disbelief, sitting and staring up at the closed door, as if waiting for Husk to return. 

 

The sight breaks Angel’s heart, and he hurls several of his pillows across the room in frustration, before rolling over and burying his face in the mattress, letting out a silent scream. The room feels cold and empty all of the sudden. 

 

Nuggs comes and joins him on the bed, licking his cheek, trying to provide some comfort. Angel faces him with a sigh, pulling his pet pig in close and squeezing his eyes shut, wondering what he could’ve done differently.

 

***

The next morning, Angel has to be up at 6am for an early shoot. He silences his alarm with a groan, feeling very unrested as he spent most of the night tossing and turning. It was infuriating, how dependent he’d become on having Husk there beside him, unable to get more than an hour of sleep at a time without waking up searching for the other man. 

 

He rolls out of bed and forces his body through its morning routine, showering, changing, make-up, feeding Nuggs, then heading downstairs to grab a quick bite for the road. 

 

He makes his way down to the lobby and is surprised to find Husk there, several bottles out on the bar, doing inventory. It is the first of the month, but the other man usually does this a few hours before opening, not at the ass crack of dawn. He turns as he hears Angel coming down the stairs and Angel immediately sees why he’s up; Husk doesn’t seem like he slept at ALL last night, the bags under his bloodshot eyes startling and sunken. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Angel asks quietly, moving behind the bar to grab an orange for himself, trying not to think about the way Husk’s shoulders clench as he breezes past him. Husk, ever the articulate one, just grunts, and continues filling out paperwork.

 

Angel resists the urge to roll his eyes, turning to go, before stopping short, whirling back around and crossing his arms. 

 

“Are we gonna talk about it?” He demands, raising his eyebrows, making direct eye contact. Husk glances up at him, still wearing the same guarded expression as the night before. 

 

“Talk about what?” He says roughly, his mouth drawn into a thin line. 

 

Angel scowls. 

 

“So, no then,” he says, narrowing his eyes, starting to get a little pissed. “Real mature.”

 

Husk let’s put a frustrated sigh and slams his pencil down, bawling his hair in his hands. 

 

“The hell am I s’pposed t’ say?” He growls, starting to look angry as he returns Angel’s glare. “I fucked up. I’m sorry, alright? It sure as hell ain’t ever gonna happen again. I’ll sleep in my bed from now on.”

 

Angel lets out a strangled sound of frustration, something between a groan and a scream. 

 

“That’s not what I want Husk!” He exclaims, throwing his purse down and stomping his foot like a child. 

 

“It ain’t about what you want,” Husk bites back, averting his eyes and crossing his arms in that stubborn way of his that lets Angel know he’s already lost this fight. “S’ about makin’ sure your safe.”

 

“It was a fucking scratch Husk,” Angel snaps, exhasperated. “Barley. It was a fucking paper cut. Are you seriously gonna sleep alone every night over one tiny little incident? Gonna stop touchin’ me all together cuz yer’ worried about knickin’ me?”

 

“I don’t KNOW!” Husk shouts, standing up and causing his spreadsheets to tumble all over the floor. Angel goes quiet. Husk is breathing hard, his fists balled at his sides, his jaw clenched shut. 

 

“I don’t know,” he says again, quieter this time, refusing to meet Angel’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do. But I can’t even—get near ya’ now without feelin’ like I’m gonna fuckin’ vomit. I can’t—stop thinkin’ about accidentally hurting you again.”

 

Angel feels like someone’s stuck a lance clean through his middle. His heart absolutely aches. 

 

“Husk,” he says softly, instinctively reaching for the other man, to hold him, to comfort him. But Husk flinches, pulling away so hard that he nearly trips over the bar stool. Angel takes a step back. He tries not to let the hurt show on his face, but he knows he fails as Husk winces at his expression. The other man curses. looking like he wants to claw his own hair out. 

 

“Fuck,” Husk says, voice waivering as if he’s about to cry. “Fuck, I can’t—I’m sorry. I don’t…” he trails off for a moment, biting his lip and taking a deep breath, as if stealing himself for something. 

 

“Maybe…maybe we should—take a break,” he says through grit teeth, as if the words physically pain him. “Take some time to—think about…this.” He gestures between them, unable to meet Angel’s eyes. 

 

Angel stares at him. 

 

“You don’t mean that,” he says finally, trying to keep his voice steady. 

 

“Angel—“

 

“You don’t,” Angel cuts him off, unwilling to accept anything the other man just said. 

 

“You…you can’t,” he forces, and despite his best efforts, his voice breaks a little on the last word. “You can’t mean that. What the fuck Husk? Why would you say that?!”

 

“I don’t want too!” Husk exclaims, his tone pleading. “But maybe it’s…the right thing to do. Angel, you deserve to be with someone who can…someone fucking normal,” Husk chokes out, looking ashamed. “Someone who can—sleep in the same bed as you an’ doesn’t have a fucking heart attack everytime you want to touch them. Not t’ mention sex. Christ Angel, I had trouble doin’…intimate stuff before this shit happened. Now…” he trails off for a moment, taking a shuddery breath and looking like he’s trying not to cry. “Now I don’ even know when I’ll be able to…do anything with you again without—“

 

He cuts off with a sharp and shaking inhalation, slumping down in his stool and covering his face with his hands, trembling a little. 

 

Angel doesn’t know what to say to that. He feels like Husk is slipping through his fingers, as if he’s made of sand. 

 

“Husk,” he says softly, coming to sit down beside the other man, but being very careful not to touch him.

 

“I…we can…work on all that stuff,” he says, fumbling to find the right words. “If we have to…sleep separately or…or not have sex for a little while while you figure this out—“

 

“What if it isn’t a little while?” Husk cuts him off harshly, his voice cold. “What if this is the way that it is with me? Do you really want that?”

 

Angel frowns, feeling himself grow angry. 

 

“Stop sayin’ stupid shit like that,” he says, frustration seeping into his tone. “This isn’t forever Husk, unless you’re sayin’ you won’t even try—“

 

“I’ve been trying!” Husk shouts, matching Angel’s growing anger, his voice hinging on hysteria. “I’ve been working with Charlie for months, and now one little slip up happens and I’m a fucking mess. I’m tired of trying so hard if this s’ all I got t’ show for it!”

 

“So you’re just gonna give up?” Angel all but snarls, standing up and stepping away in disgust. “One bump in the road and you're just done? With this, with us?”

 

“That’s not—!” Husk cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, raking his hands through his hair, looking on the verge of spiraling. Angel doesn’t care. He finds himself growing livid; how dare Husk suggest ending this? This thing that was good and real and right?

 

“You’re a fuckin’ coward,” he hears himself hiss, seeing Husk wince at the words. “You’re leavin’ soon as things get a little hard, just like everyone else in this fuckin’ shit hole. I thought ya’ were different. I thought we was different.”

 

Husk shoots him an icy glare, growling a little. 

 

“Let’s talk about this later,” he says in a startling quiet voice. “I don’t want to make you late.” His tone is clipped and closed off. Angel balls his fists, recognizing the tell tale signs of Husk shutting down, ending the conversation.

 

“Fine,” he says through grit teeth, snatching his purse and marching towards the door. “Be a fuckin’ asshole if ya’ want to. But don’t pretend that this bullshit got anythin’ ta’ do with me. This ain’t you wantin’ what’s best fa’ me. This is about you, bein’ too afraid ta’ face your own shit. Well Fuck. You.”

 

He marches out the door, feeling Husk’s eyes on his back, watching him go.

 

He doesn’t look back.

 

***

Angel limps home. 

 

He’d been at the studio for 13 fucking hours. It was 9pm now, and he’d been fucked by 12 different people today, upside down, backwards and sideways. Val had him doing a bunch of holiday themed shoots given that it was December first. He wanted to drop several films throughout the month, so Angel had had the pleasure of being fucked with mistletoe, the Star of David, a reindeer antler, and just about every other perverted, fucked up, holiday oriented thing you could think of. If he never saw another Christmas decoration in his life, it’d be too soon. 

 

And at the end of it all, Val had wanted a piece of him. And Angel, being moody as he was that day given his fight with Husk earlier that morning, had said no, snapping that he was exhausted, that he didn’t feel like it. This had earned him the dislocated shoulder he now sported (real original Val, he thought, rolling his eyes) and the porn overlord had fucked him anyway. 

 

So he shuffled home, his skin crawling, itching for Cocaine, LSD, PCP, Horse, Chalk, Whippetts, Caps, Special K, Big O, something, anything, to take away all feeling, to make him numb, oblivious to his own problems.

 

He needed Charlie, he told himself. Just get home and talk to Charlie. Talk yourself out of this spiral, out of this bullshit. 

 

He knew Husk would probably want to talk when he got home too. Well, tough shit. Angel had had a real fucked day, and he didn’t think he could handle unpacking the harsh words they’d both spoken this morning. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Maybe Husk would be his usual avoidant self and would dodge the topic entirely. Or maybe he’d be drunk down a bottle and forget about Angel all together. Angel didn’t know which possibility pissed him off more. 

 

When he reaches the hotel, he shoulders the door open with his good arm and stops short.

 

The lobby looks like Christmas threw up on it. There’s a tree, ribbons, lights, decorations and a stupid inflatable snowman in the corner. Angel nearly trips on the snowman’s extension cord, cursing and wringing the damn inflatable jackoff by its neck, kicking it out of the way. 

 

Alastor is lounging at his usual seat in the bar lobby, sipping a dry whiskey, enjoying a candy cane. Husk is nowhere to be seen, his spot at the bar empty. Charlie is up on a ladder that Vaggie is holding steady, hanging some garland on the stair railings. She turns when she hears Angel come in, nearly falling off the thing in the process.

 

“Angel!” She exclaims happily as Vaggie fights to keep the ladder from toppling over. “Happy Holidays!” 

 

Angel is unable to keep the blatant nausea off his face as he gazes at the various items he’s just had shoved inside of him today, now all scattered throughout his home. He resists the urge to scream.

 

“Charlie, I really need to t-thhalk to you,” he begins, but he’s cut off as a fierce tingling floods his entire body, crawling up his arms, his throat, his nose. He shudders, his eyes and nose immediately beginning to run. 

 

“Of course, what’s up?” Charlie asks him, climbing down the ladder in an extremely precarious fashion that is actively giving Vaggie an aneurysm. “Is it about Husk? Is everything okay with you two? He’s up in his room, I gave him the night off because he seemed a little…off today. Miko is manning the bar tonight instead, since inventory was already done, she ran to grab some more cocktail napkins…” 

 

Angel is having trouble concentrating on anything Charlie is saying as his breath has started hitching. Jesus Christ, it feels like a thousand fire ants are crawling all over his body, particularly in his nose, which is itching like mad. He tries to stave them off, putting his wrist under his nose, the thought of having a sneezing fit in front of his friends absolutely mortifying, but he only manages to stave it off for a few seconds as Charlie rambles. 

 

“Angel?” Vaggie says, cutting her girlfriend off with a hand on her arm. Her brow is furrowed as she gazes at the other man with concern. “Are you…okay?”

 

Angel tries to wave them off, but it’s useless. 

 

“ehhh…ehhtchu! chu! hah…hahhh!…hah-tchu! hah-tchu! hep-shu! shu! ahh-tchuu! ahhtchu! ahhh…ahh! Ah-CHU!”

 

“Whoa,” Charlie says, looking very alarmed. “Angel are you—“

 

She doesn’t get the chance to finish as Angel cuts her off with a harsh bout of coughing, unable to catch his breath. God, what is happening? He wipes his eyes, as they’ve begun to grow all puffy, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

 

“Oh fuck,” Vaggie says, looking worried. “I think he’s having an allergic reaction to something. Is it the tree? I don’t know what else…”

 

Angel would answer, if he was able to get a word in edgewise. Even amidst the sneezing and coughing he’s able to tell what’s causing this. Hell, he could detect this scent from a mile away. There’s only one thing that sets him off this badly. 

 

“heh…hehh…heh-tchu! hehtchu! hehtchuh! hehchu! hehchu! Ihht’s…hah…hah! sniiff. Ihht’s puh-phheppermint,” he finally manages to get out ducking into his elbow as he’s instantly overcome again, unable to stop. 

 

“ehhh…ehhtchu! chu! hah…hahhh!…hah-tchu! hah-tchu! hep-shu! shu! ahh-tchuu! ahhtchu! Huh-shu!! chu! chx! chgx! kkshhuu!”

 

He tries to stifle momentarily, his cheeks flaming, but quickly realizes that isn’t possible, not with this culprit. Fuck, there was barley any build up. Usually his allergies took a few minutes to kick in, leaving him all itchy and sniffly as he tried to stave off the fit as long as possible. Now, he’d barely been in the door 3 seconds and he was already a sneezing, wheezing mess. 

 

“Oh my god,” he vaguely registers Charlie saying, her face going white. “Shit, I…I bought those diffusers, from um…what’s that place on Earth? Baths and…Bath bombs? No, that’s not it.”

 

“I believe it’s ‘Bath and Bodyworks,’ dear Charlie,” Alastor chimes in helpfully. Angel would punch him if he could keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds.

 

“Yes, that’s it!” Charlie says. “They had a sale on um. Christmas ones? They had gingerbread and pine and…peppermint. Fuck, I’ll unplug it now, I’m so sorry Angel.”

 

“Yhhou d-didn’t kn-know,” Angel manages to choke out, before practically hacking up a lung. He feels a tentative hand on his back and manages to make out Vaggie’s shoes, his friend trying to provide some comfort. 

 

“Let’s get you upstairs,” Vaggie says to him as Charlie sprints across the room and unplugs the offending diffuser. She hurries back over towards the trash can, accidentally colliding with Angel and Vaggie on their way to the steps. 

 

“Charlie!” Vaggie exclaims as Angel begins sneezing uncontrollably again, the itch going from absolutely torturous to utterly unbearable as the diffuser makes contact with his skin. 

 

“You’re supposed to keep it away from him!” Vaggie huffs, steering Angel out of the way as he continues to sneeze helplessly. 

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I was going to throw it out!” Charlie exclaims.

 

“Don’t throw it away in here, that won’t get rid of the scent! Take it outside—“

 

“May I point out that removing the offending object will not necessarily get rid of the problem?” Alastor chimes in, causing Vaggie to bear her teeth at him. 

 

“I could open up the windows!” Angel hears Nifty, who must’ve appeared sometime in the last minute, offer helpfully.  

 

“Do our windows even open?” Charlie asks doubtfully.

 

“Negative,” Alastor titters, his tone far too amused. 

 

“I could smash them!” Nifty cackles.

 

“NO!” Vaggie states firmly, sounding like a single mother trying to keep 3 children in check. 

 

“Maybe we could open the front doors for a while,” Charlie suggests, setting down the diffuser moving to do so.

 

“Charlie, get the diffuser out of here!” Vaggie groans, struggling to get an arm underneath Angel’s shoulder and haul the lanky man up the steps while also instructing her extremely ADHD girlfriend. Angel meanwhile, can feel his airways constricting, his legs wobbling a little as oxygen evades him. He continues sneezing like crazy underneath all the bickering. 

 

“Ah shit, I forgot, I’m going now—“

 

“Might I point out that you plugged a second one in over in the den Charlie dear?”

 

“I’ll get that one!”

 

“No Nifty, you’re not allowed near the electrical sockets—“

 

“Charlie, get rid of the diffuser!”

 

“I’m going, Alastor, don’t let Nifty touch the outlet again—“

 

“What the hell is goin’ on down here?!”

 

Husk’s deep voice echoes through the lobby, cutting off the chaotic chatter. Angel can tell he’s up on the balcony, probably lured out of his room by all the noise. He can’t see the other man at the moment though, unable to open his eyes as he bends at the waist with sneeze, after sneeze, after sneeze…

 

hehh…heh-tchu! hehtchu! hehtchuh! hehchu! ehhh…ehhtchu! CHU! hah…hahhh!…hah-tchu! hah-tchu! hep-shu! shu! ahh-tchuu! ahhtchu! Huh-shu! kkshhuu!”

 

Suddenly, Husk is at his side, his low baritone sounding right in Angel’s ear. 

 

“What the fuck happened to him?” He demands, his voice filled with alarm. 

 

“Our dear Princess bought diffusers that don’t seem to agree with your little spider Husker,” Alastor says, sounding bored.

 

“They were peppermint scented,” Vaggie clarifies, and Angel manages a glance at his boyfriend through swollen, puffy eyes. Husk’s face grows pale, his eyes widening a little in horror. He wastes no time, a  woosh of air rushing past Angel as his boyfriend flies down the stairs and grabs the accursed diffuser from Charlie and hurries to the front door, chucking the thing clear across the yard. 

 

Charlie, meanwhile, hurries into the living room, smacking Nifty’s hand away from the outlet and unplugging the second diffuser. She hands it to Husk, who flings it out the front doors along with the first, before flying back up the steps to Angel’s side, tugging him from Vaggie’s arms without asking permission. 

 

“I’m taking him to the roof,” Husk states, scooping Angel up bridal style in a very chivilous gesture that would make Angel swoon, if he wasn’t already so close to passing out. 

 

“The roof?” Vaggie asks, sounding confused. 

 

“Well he can’t stay in here!” Husk barks, shifting Angel’s weight around so that his lanky limbs fit in his arms. Angel, meanwhile, continues to cough and sneeze against Husk’s chest, which, even knowing the other man doesn’t mind, is so embarrassing it hurts. He longs for a tissue or handkerchief but knows he doesn’t have one on him.

 

“I’ll keep him up there until this place airs out,” Husk says firmly. “His room probably smells like the damn stuff too; that shit is everywhere, it’s in the fuckin’ air.” 

 

Angel feels the other man’s wings unfurl.

 

“Bring me water, a wet washcloth, and antihistamines,” Husk tells Vaggie, his voice commanding and very no-nonsense. It’s hot as hell. Angel wishes he was lucid enough to really enjoy it. 

 

Husk takes off, and Angel brings out his sixth set of arms to cling to his boyfriend, feeling his heartbeat pound in his ears as they barrel through the front doors and climb into the sky, higher and higher. He lets slip a little yelp, which just turns into a cough, gripping Husk so tightly he knows he’s probably hurting him a little. He can’t help it. He fucking hates heights.

 

Husk had offered to take him flying leisurely countless times, promising they could go nice and slow and stay as low to the ground as Angel wanted. Angel kept finding various excuses to get out of it. He’d never liked heights, not since his brother had almost pushed him off the fire escape when they were kids. It had been an accident of course…at least, Angel hoped it had been. Just boys roughhousing, as his Ma would say. Angel—Anthony—had been stuck clinging to the last rung on the metal ladder for dear life, his legs dangling there as his sister ran for help. His father had come to the rescue, but he’d been stuck like that for nearly five minutes, positive his weak little 9 year old arms were going to give out and send him plummeting to his death. It had taken Angel ages to even feel comfortable being inside tall buildings after that. 

 

Husk lands on the roof gently, carefully setting Angel down towards the center, knowing the other man wasn’t fond of the ledge. Angel gasps a little, finally able to get a breath of fresh, non-peppermint scented air. He’s wheezing terribly, but at least his throat opens up. The relief is short lived however as the feathery tickle in his nose flares to life again, and he’s forced to turn away into his elbow—

 

“ehgchx! ehgchuh! hah…hahchu! hah-tchu! mm-chu! kkshhuu! ihhshu! ahh…ahh-tchu!”

 

The sneezes are worn and exhausted sounding, using up all the air Angel has just managed to get back into his lungs. The fit lasts for nearly another minute, sending Angel’s head reeling as it finally subsides, leaving him terribly sniffly and wheezing.

 

“Christ kid,” Husk huffs beside him, his tone laced with worry. “M’ sorry about this. I leave them alone for five fuckin’ minutes and they manage ta’ nearly kill ya’.”

 

“S’ ndot their fault,” Angel wheezes, sniffling and scrubbing at his eyes. “They didn’t kdnow.”

 

“Try not to rub,” Husk says, gently taking Angel’s wrists and pulling his hands down away from his face. “Vaggie’ll be here soon with a washcloth.”

 

“S’ you’re touchin’ me again now?” Angel croaks, unable to help himself, even in this state. “Thought y’ couldn’t do that without gettin’ nauseous or some shit.”

 

He knows he’s being bitchy, but fuck it, he’s had a rotten day. Husk goes very still at that, letting out a slow exhale.

 

“I…hadn’t even noticed honestly,” his boyfriend says quietly. “Was just…focused on gettin’ you outta there. Takin’ care of you.”

 

Well, fuck. Now Angel feels like a sack of shit. 

 

“Fuck, m’ sorry,” he coughs, looking away, his voice all stuffy. “Thadt was…a shidtty thing ta’ say. Thank you. F-for…hhhelpin’ m-mbe, ahh? ahhtchu! heh…hehpshu! kkshhuu! sniiff. Ugh, s’cuse’ mbe.” 

 

“Bless you,” Husk murmurs, and the words make Angel’s heart skip a beat, even now. “Here.”

 

He blinks a watery eye open, and sees Husk is offering him a handkerchief. Angel snatches it gratefully, immediately blowing his nose and getting some much needed relief. 

 

“Ohh, fuck, that’s bedder,” he coughs, scrubbing his nose a little to alleviate the itch. His eyes are still streaming, and he dabs at them with the handkerchief, fighting the urge to rub them raw. 

 

“C’n ya’ breathe okay?” Husk asks, kneeling down to squat beside him, still sounding very anxious. Angel nods tiredly, taking a deep breath as proof. It ends in a tiny cough, but is otherwise unrestricted. 

 

“Throat’s just itchy,” he says hoarsely, sniffling a little, wincing. 

 

“We’ll get ya’ some water,” Husk mutters, fiddling with his overalls. “And some meds. Hopefully it airs out quickly, I know you don’t love bein’ up here.”

 

Angel shugs a little, trying to avoid looking out at the horizon and registering how high up they are. 

 

“S’ alright,” he mutters softly, coughing a little. “Not so bad, here in the middle.”

 

Husk sighs a little, and the two lapse into a painfully awkward silence, save for Angel’s occasional sneezes and sniffling. Finally, Husk clears his throat a little, shifting anxiously from one leg to the other.

 

“Angel, look I…I said a lot of things this morning,” his boyfriend says quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. “I was…real tired and anxious and stressed and…I said some shit I didn’t mean.”

 

Angel glances up at him, biting his own lip and fidgeting with the handkerchief. 

 

“Me too,” he replies quietly, his voice barely a whisper. 

 

Husk comes to sit down beside him then, leaving space between them, but getting closer than he’d dared to get this morning. 

 

“I don’t want a break,” his partner says, the words seeming painful to even get out. “I was just…” 

 

Husk trails off for a moment, closing his eyes and pinching between his eyebrows as if he has a headache. 

 

“Sometimes,” he begins, his voice wavering a little, and Angel can tell he’s trying hard not to cry. “Sometimes I think I’m…no good for you,” he admits, swallowing thickly and fisting his hands at his sides. “I guess I just feel like I’m…like maybe I’m too broken to do this kinda thing anymore,” Husk mutters, looking up at the sky and blinking several times. “And you’re…you deserve the whole goddamn world Angel,” his partner says, giving a hollow chuckle. “You already deal with so much shit at work, an’ I’m sorry that ya’ gotta deal with so much a’ my shit at home too. That’s the third  time this week I’ve woken ya’ up with these fuckin’ nightmares. An’ I know a fuckin’ scratch isn’t a big deal ta’ you but ya’ gotta understand that t’ me it’s—god, it feels like I’m fuckin’ drowning, knowin’ I hurt you in any typa’ way. An’ I start spiraling and thinkin’ what if I ever hurt ya’ for real, by accident? S’ like my whole body goes inta’ fight or flight an’ I get this…ringing in my ears and I just…shut down. So if you ever—if ya’ ever decided that it was—too much t’ deal with, if y’ get tired of havin’ t’ be so fuckin’…patient, an’…an’ cautious with me, if you ever wanted t’ try to find someone else—-“

 

Husk is cut off as Angel pulls him into a hug. The other man stiffens at first, drawing in a sharp breath, and Angel can feel the anxiety beneath his skin, the irrational worry that Angel will somehow be harmed simply by being near him. 

 

“You’re not going to hurt mbe Husk,” he whispers, pulling the other man in closer, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. “Let mbe hold you.”

 

In his arms, Husk let’s out a shuddering breath, one that he appears to have been holding forever. Some of the tension finally leaves his body and he lets himself burrow into Angel’s embrace, a few hitching sobs wracking his frame as he lets himself cry into Angel’s chest. 

 

Angel holds him there, cradling his head, wrapping his other arms around his waist. Husk doesn’t quite hug him back, that paralyzing fear of hurting Angel keeps his clawed hands firmly pressed at his sides, trembling a little. But he doesn’t pull away, and Angel will take the win. Baby steps, he tells himself, relishing the feeling of Husk pressed against him again. He could stay like this forever.

 

Unfortunately, his nose has other ideas. He’s forced to pull away slightly, fumbling for the handkerchief Husk gave him, his face turning pink and apologetic.

 

“Fhhuck, h-hold odn, s-so shhorry, I—heh…heh?…hehpshu! kkshhuu! sniiff. Ugh, s’cuse’ mbe, fuck, I’mb sorry—“

 

“S’ alright,” Husk says softly, cutting him off and reaching up as if to rub his back, before stopping himself, signing frustratedly, his hand still shaking a little. “You can’t help it. We don’t hafta—talk about this stuff while your feelin’ so poorly—“

 

“No,” Angel cuts in, shaking his head a little and pushing on. “No, I want to talk about it. I—thank you, Husk, fa’…sayin’ all that, I know it ain’t easy, but I…I kinda understand now.” He places a gentle hand on Husk’s knee, taking a breath, pausing to cough a little, then meeting his eyes, titling Husk’s chin and forcing the other man to look right at him.

 

“I don’t want anyone else ya’ moron,” he says firmly, trying to convey with his broken, hoarse voice just how fiercely he means it. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve eva’ said, and you say a lot a’ stupid things.”

 

This makes Husk chuckle a little, his cheeks turning pink, but he still looks a little reserved, a little wary. Angel presses on. 

 

“I said some real awful stuff this morning too,” Angel admits softly, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in shame. “It was…so wrong a’ me ta’…ta’ dismiss all the anxiety you was havin’, even if I knew it was way overblown. Stead’ of…pressurin’ you ta’ try and fix everythin’ right away, what I shoulda’ said, first and foremost, is that I love you, Husk. No matta’ what. If I gotta’ wait a lifetime fa’ you ta’ feel comfortable sleepin’ with me, havin’ sex, then I w-will—ihht’s…ohhh fhhfuckin’ h-hell…ehhhtchu! ahh…ahhh! Ah-CHU! AhhCHU! Heh-SHU!

 

The fit is louder than normal, his body fighting to expel all the irritants now that he finally has air in his lungs. He pauses to cough then, a harsh fit that forces him to turn away and hack into his elbow. He’s cursing his stupid, frail body, when he feels Husk’s hand come up to gingerly touch his back. Even coughing up an organ, Angel mentally cheers. If it takes him being in this pathetic state for Husk to willingly touch him again, he’ll take it. He finally manages to catch his breath, and turns back, wanting to finish the incredibly important thing he’d been saying to the love of his life. Even as he stops, Husk’s hand remains where it is, rubbing slow circles in his back, and Angel smiles at him. 

 

“I just wanna be with you,” he says softly, cupping Husk’s cheek. “An’ I know how hard you been tryin’ fa’ me, workin’ on this shit. I shoulda’ neva’ said you weren’t. So, yeah, while you mighta’ been spiraling a little, sayin’ nothin’ was ever gonna get better, I shouldn’t have dismissed ya’ like that. I was tryin’ ta’…bring ya’ back down ta’ earth but I…got all angry and panicky when you suggested taking a break and I…fuck, I handled it real poorly.” 

 

Husk is shaking his head, and he carefully slides his hand into Angel’s, slotting their fingers together with a shaky breath. Angel can see how anxious the action makes him, can see how hard he’s trying, for Angel’s sake. It makes his chest grow warm. 

 

“We…both fucked up,” his boyfriend says, chuckling dryly. “We were angry and tired and…scared.”

 

Angel nods, offering Husk a smile and giving his hand a squeeze, pulling him in and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. 

 

“We’re a mess,” he agrees, and he and Husk both laugh, pressing their foreheads together. 

 

“Yeah,” Husk replies, chucking. “But we’re each other's mess.”

 

Angel hums happily, pulling away and letting himself lean on Husk’s shoulder, the exhaustion from his allergic reaction catching up with him. 

 

“How’re you feeling?” Husk asks softly, bringing his arm around Angel’s shoulders. 

 

“Mmm, better,” Angel murmurs sleepily. “My nose just t-tickles…ehhh…” 

 

Even as he says it, his breath starts to hitch, and he tilts his head away, bringing the handkerchief up to—

 

“ehh…ehhtchu! heh…hehh? Ahh, f-fhhuck, it w-won’t…chhome out…heh! ahhh…”

 

He continues to hitch helplessly, and Husk chuckles a little, clearly enjoying this way too much. Angel shoots him a glare, scrunching up his nose as the itch continues to tease him. Laughing, Husk brings a careful claw up towards Angel’s face, his hand no longer shaking. 

 

“Can I?” He whispers softly, making Angel shiver a little, his cheeks turning pink, and he nods, still hitching and sniffling. With delicate precision, Husk slowly runs a single claw lightly down the bridge of Angel’s nose, watching the tiny thing quiver and flare. The result is instantaneous.

 

“ahh? ahhh…ahhtCHU! heh…hehpshu! kkshhuu! sniiff. Whoaa, s’cuse’ mbe,” he chuckles shyly, blushing. Husk, the absolute saint, presses a tender kiss to his shoulder, melting Angel’s insides. 

 

A moment later, Vaggie comes up with water, antihistamines, and a washcloth. Trailing behind her, looking very anxious and very guilty, is Charlie, who apologizes profusely as Angel tries to assure her (in between coughs and sneezes, which kind of undermines his words) that he’s alright. 

 

He takes the antihistamines, and then finishes the entire bottle of water, at Husk’s insistence. His boyfriend also gently wipes his eyes and nose clean with the wet cloth, and Angel feels the swelling around his eyes immediately begin to recede. He lets out a tiny sigh of relief, able to see clearly again.

 

Vaggie, reluctantly, admits that the smell doesn’t appear to be going away anytime soon. And given that both Husk’s and Angel’s doors were left open all day to allow Fat Nuggets to roam freely, neither bedroom will likely be any better. 

 

Charlie offers to pay for them to stay overnight at a hotel in the city, but Husk, upon seeing Angel’s face pale at the idea of going to such a public place in the current state he’s in, with all the jeers he’d  receive from idiot onlookers, shakes his head.

 

“I…don’t think that’s necessary Charlie,” his boyfriend says for him, and Angel gives his hand a little squeeze. “But thanks for the offer. Maybe we could um. Camp out up here for tonight?” He looks at Angel as he suggests this, raising his eyebrow. Angel is hesitant at first, not sure how he feels, sleeping this high up. His brain flits through various crazy scenarios; what if he sleepwalks right off the roof and falls to his death? However, given that the alternative options are attempting to stay at a hotel without getting jumped (unlikely), or spending the rest of the night unable to breathe, he realizes it’s the best option. 

 

“I…okay,” he concedes meekly, unable to keep himself from gazing out at the Pride skyline and the tiny lights below, shuddering a little. Husk, god bless him, takes his hand. 

 

“I’ll stay up here with you,” his boyfriend says, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to ya’.”

 

Angel gives the other man a greatful, albeit slightly nervous smile, and nods. 

 

“We’ll go grab the air mattress for you guys,” Charlie offers, grinning. “Ahhh, this is so cute and fun! A little sleepover under the stars! Vaggie, we should do this sometime!”

 

“Yup,” Angel says dryly, looking a little green. “Suuuper fun.” Husk laughs, unable to help himself, and wraps a comforting wing around Angel’s shoulders. 

 

“Legs here ain’t the biggest fan of heights,” he explains to Charlie and Vaggie, who are looking at Angel with puzzled expressions.

 

“Ohhh,” Vaggie says, realization dawning on her, and then, being the asshole that she is, starts laughing at him. 

 

Angel crosses his arms and scowls at her. 

 

“It’s not funny Vaggie!” Charlie implores, but even she can’t keep the little smile off of her face as she fights not to giggle. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Vaggie chokes out in between fits of laughter, trying to stop. “It’s just…fuck, you really can’t catch a break today can you?” She says to Angel, who, despite himself, finds himself beginning to chuckle at his own ridiculous predicament. 

 

The two girls scurry downstairs, returning moments later with the air mattress, blankets and pillows. As the bed inflates, Charlie offers to let Nuggs sleep in their room tonight, for which Angel thanks her profusely; he didn’t want his little guy to sleep alone. 

 

Finally, the bed is made up, the pillows and blankets stacked, and Charlie and Vaggie retreat downstairs for the evening. Angel, unable to help it, has started shivering a little, the cool night air biting at his skin. Husk, ever the gentleman, pulls back the covers and helps tuck Angel in, wanting to get him warm, propping him up so he can breathe easily. As Angel shifts around, trying to get comfortable, Husk notices him wince a little, trying to find an angle that doesn’t press on his bad shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong?” Husk asks, instantly at his side. Angel huffs a little, really not wanting to worry the other man any more than he already has. 

 

“S’…just my shoulder,” he mumbles, trying to brush it off. “He ah…dislocated it again. But Alice popped it back in fa’ me. S’ fine now, just sore.”

 

Angel sees Husk’s jaw clench at this, his eyes growing hot with anger. 

 

“Fuck,” Husk says through grit teeth, his body practally vibrating with unspent rage for which he has no outlet. Angel nods, looking glum. 

 

“Yeah. Fuck.”

 

Husk lets out a frustrated sigh, and comes to sit beside him, tenderly unbuttoning Angel’s jacket and taking a careful look at the bruising along his collarbone. 

 

“Do you…wanna tell me what happened?” His boyfriend asks softly, and Angel sighs, rubbing his nose with the back of his wrist as it continues to tingle. 

 

“Just, the usual bullshit,” he murmurs, looking down. “He…wanted to…y’ know. And I was pissy after our fight and after bein’ there for fuckin’ eva’.  An’ so I…told him no. I don’ know why I bothered, s’ not like me arguing was gonna…get me out of it, I just. I don’t know. It felt…good. Ta’ stand up t’ him for once. Even a little.”

 

At that, Husk meets his eyes and his expression is filled with such genuine pride and admiration that Angel has to look away, flushing slightly. 

 

“Well in that case,” Husk murmurs, placing a gentle kiss over the bruise that makes Angel shiver with pleasure, “m’ real proud of you kid. I’m sorry yer’ shoulder got fucked though.”

 

“Eh,” Angel says with a shrug and small smile. “It was worth it. Sides’, it’s over now. I’m here with you.”

 

This makes Husk smile, and he comes around to the other side and slides into bed beside Angel, rolling over to wrap his arm around the other man’s waist. Despite the bliss Angel feels at having his boyfriend close again, he can’t help the slight tremble in his body as he looks out over the ledge, the sight serving as a constant reminder of how high up they are.

 

“Hey,” he hears Husk whisper beside him, gently tugging Angel’s good arm so that he lies flat on his back, his head turned, gazing at Husk, who is doing the same. 

 

“Don’t look over there,” Husk says softly, giving him a small smile and wrapping his wing around Angel, using it as a makeshift blinder, to keep the horizon out of sight. “Look up,” Husk suggests, pointing straight ahead, and Angel does as he’s told, suddenly enveloped in a sea of bright blue stars. His eyes widen a little, and he lets out a breath, taking it in. It’s startlingly beautiful. He’d never really paid much attention to the night sky in Hell, until now. 

 

Beside him, Husk does the same, and together they lay there, gazing at the stars together in silence. 

 

“These stars are different,” Angel says after a moment, his voice a mixture of awe and wonder. “From the ones on earth. S’ a whole different solar system down here. I wonder…if anyone’s ever mapped em’ before. Tried t’ study them.”

 

“Maybe you should,” Husk replies, glancing at his partner fondly. Angel snorts.

 

“I ain’t an astronomer. I wouldn’t even know where t’ start.”

 

“So?” Husk says, shrugging. “I bet ya’ could learn. S’ not like there’s many scientists down here anyway. Bet they all got an instant pass ta’ heaven for helpin’ humanity or whatever.”

 

Angel laughs, a loud, full one, and god does it feel good, after the day he’s had. 

 

“Maybe…I could try an’ do some research,” he says shyly, coughing a little. 

 

“We can go t’ the Lucifer’s library on Sunday,” Husk suggests. “I bet he won’t mind. I’ll bring coffee and donuts, we’ll make it a date.”

 

Angel smiles. 

 

“I’d like that,” he whispers, snuggling into Husk’s side with a happy hum. They lay there for a moment listening to the sound of each other's breathing. The moment is broken however as Angel sneezes rather suddenly, the sensation coming over him so rapidly that he’s unable to turn away or cover. He fights to stifle them agaisnt Husk’s chest. 

 

“hgchx! egchx! gnx! chx! snifff. Oh fuck, s-sorry,” he manages to get out, his face turning red as he fumbles for his handkerchief, knowing that more are coming; stifling never really relieved him. 

 

“ggshu! shu! ehh…ehh-tchu! hah-tchu! heh…heh-tchu! Oh mby god,” he croaks, coughing a little in the aftermath. Husk’s arm is around his back, helping him sit up, and his hand rubs soothing circles in Angel’s shoulder. 

 

“Don’ apologize,” his boyfriend stutters, clearing his throat a little. “Y-you um. You can’t help it.” Angel smirks a little as the other man’s usually low baritone comes out a few octaves higher than usual. 

 

“At least I know you’re not disgusted,” he jokes, throwing a teasing glance at Husk, who flushes. 

 

“Definitely not,” he admits sheepishly, looking embarasssd. “I ah. I am sorry you feel so bad though. Man, you weren’t kiddin’ when you said lavender was nothin’ compared t’ peppermint.”

 

“Ugh,” Angel groans, wrinkling his nose a little as he feels it start to itch and twitch again. “Did you h-hafta s~hh~say th-those…whhords? ahhh? ehh…ahhh! Ah-CHU!  heh…Hah-CHU! snniff. Gagh. Itd’s so itchy,” he whines, blowing his nose a little, sniffling miserably.

 

Husk can help himself from chucking a little. 

 

“Ah fuck, sorry,” he says sincerely, grabbing a fresh handkerchief from his pocket (he always keeps extra on him now, something so incredibly sweet and adorable…not that Angel has noticed) and hands it over, planting a soft kiss between Angel’s furrowed eyebrows. “I forget how fuckin’ suggestible you are,” Husk chuckles, making Angel blush a little. 

 

“Ugh, apparendtly,” he grumbles, congested and exhausted. He lets out a yawn, rubbing as his still slightly itchy eyes. Husk looks at him endearingly. 

 

“Let’s get you to sleep,” his partner murmurs softly, gently helping Angel lay back down and pulling the blanket up over his shoulders to keep away the chill. He wraps and arm and a wing around the taller man’s waist, spooning his bad shoulder gently. Angel is about to drift off, when Husk pipes up from behind him, his voice wary. 

 

“Angel, if I…if I have another one—“

 

“Shhh,” Angel cuts him off, unwilling to let the other man’s brain spiral any further. “I know what to do. We’ve gotta good system Husk, y’ ain’t gonna hurt me. Please…don’t go anywhere. I…I need you tonight.” 

 

Angel cringes at the desperation in his own voice, the neediness of his plea evident. But oddly, it seems to help comfort Husk, who pulls him in closer. Angel can feel some of the anxiety leave the other man’s body. 

 

“Okay,” Husk says softly against his skin, pressing a fleeting kiss to the back of Angel’s neck. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll stay right here. I promise.”

 

With that, the two doze off under the stars.

[RipleyToo]

Could you pretty please add to this story of Angel going to work sick and spreading it to the Vees? I know you don’t like writing them, but I feel it would make this story so much more interesting! 

[2SHY222]

My heart ached during their fight. But I'm really glad they made up. This was amazing 🤩

[coolbeans18]

On 7/22/2024 at 12:55 PM, 2SHY222 said:

My heart ached during their fight. But I'm really glad they made up. This was amazing 🤩

Hehe so glad you liked!

[coolbeans18]

Hello! Apologies for the delay, I keep forgetting to post here as I write more lol. Enjoy a whole bunch of chapters!

Ch. 9: Lucky (Pt.1)

Chapter Text

“Why’re you going for the blue one? It’s only worth 10.”

“No dumbass, the blue one’s worth 20, we agreed, middle row was 20 points, even if it’s closer t’ my side. No changin’ tha’ rules now.”

Husk returns to the bar, having just run drinks, and watches as his boyfriend takes one of Cherri’s hair bands off the bar top and loops it around his thumb and pointer finger like a slingshot. Angel holds his hand out in front of him like a shotgun, one eye closed, his tongue peaking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. 

“I thought I told y’all, y’ ain’t allowed t’ play this stupid game in here,” Husk growls. There’s little bite behind it though. It’s hard for him to be truly angry when his boyfriend looks so fucking adorable, his nose scrunched up, a tiny crease forming right between his eyebrows as he concentrates.

“Will ya’ shut up,” Angel murmurs, his eyes unmoving from the large blue bottle of tequila he’s aiming for. “You’re wreckin’ my focus here.”

Husk huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed. 

“It makes us look so fuckin’ unprofessional when you idiots do this typa’ shit,” he grumbles.

“You’re just pissy because you always lose this game,” Cherri teases, smirking as Husk bares his teeth. 

He returns behind the bar, discarding the now empty drink tray and heading for the register, coming between Angel and the bottle.

Angel, so focused on his shot, doesn’t notice the other man approaching, and when he finally looses the hair band, it fires directly into Husk’s eye.

“What the fuck!?” Husk barks, as Cherri lets out a whoop of joy in victory. 

“Well ya’ shoulda yelled crossing!” Angel exclaims, turning to Cherri and scowling. 

“S’ that really my shot? Can’t I get a redo?”

“No fuckin’ way,” Cherri says, looking all too smug. “S’ your own fault for not paying attention. I won fair and square. Now buy me my next drink, a deal’s a deal!” 

Angel groans in aggravation, glaring at Husk. 

“The fuck are you lookin’ at me like that for?!” The bartender grouches, still rubbing his eye. “ You hit me .”

“Oh, quit bein’ such a baby,” Angel sulks, rolling his eyes. “You know how I am when I’m shooting. I was in the zone.”

“Maybe you should find a different ‘zone’,” Cherri snorts.  “I’ve beaten you three times this week.”

“That’s cuz it’s a stupid game,” Angel argues, pouting a little. “Gimmie an actual gun and we’ll see who’s runnin’ their mouth.”

“Husker, tell your boyfriend to quit being such a sore loser,” Cherri says, rolling her eyes. Husk chuckles at that. 

“It’s cute that you think he listens t’ anythin’ I have ta’ say. How many times have I told y’all not t’ play this in here? And here we are. Speaking of, both a’ you get back here and get these fuckin’ hair bands out of my bar.”

His boyfriend and his best friend sulk at that, looking like two toddlers. 

“ Now ,” Husk growls, and the two idiots begrudgingly climb off their stools with a sigh, coming around the bar and getting on their hands and knees to look for hair bands. Angel hits his head on the syrup cart at one point, scowling and flipping Husk the bird as Husk snickers at him. 

There were only three patrons left, and Husk drummed his fingers on the bar, waiting for them to finish. Tonight marked the start of the holiday season at the hotel, and Charlie had given everyone a week off (including herself, thank god, the girl deserved a break). The bar was closing early, at 10:30pm, and while Husk normally didn’t care for the holidays, this year was a little different. Angel had Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off at the end of the week, and Husk was determined to get his boyfriend something good. He hadn’t a fucking clue what…hence why he needed his week off to start. Angel, similar to himself, wasn’t overly fond of the holidays, (he’d told Husk that this time of year at work was mostly him getting fucked with plastic candy canes) but this year was the first year in a while they both had people to celebrate with. 

Charlie, being Charlie, had various holiday activities planned all throughout the week.Husk didn’t know how many Angel would be able to be present for, but he’d at least get his boyfriend tonight, it being Sunday. They were doing a movie night; The Nightmare Before Christmas, something both Charlie and Vaggie could get behind. They were all going to have hot chocolate and cookies, and Husk was really looking forward to curling up on the couch with his boyfriend in their PJ’s. 

As the last patron finally closes their tab, Husk began closing chores, eager to put on sweatpants and relax. Without having to be asked, Angel and Cherri assist him. Husk protests at first, telling them they really don’t have to, but Cherri shut’s him up with a “fuck off, we want too.”

As he’s putting away the limes, Angel gives Husk a quick peck on the cheek. It catches the other man off guard, and he blushes a little, looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend who just winks at him, looking way too happy with himself. 

They finish closing, and Husk and Angel head up the stairs to change into something more comfortable. They reach Angel’s room, and after greeting Fat Nuggets, they grab comfy clothes. With teasing fingers, Angel slips Husk’s overall straps off his shoulders, giving him a flirtatious smirk. 

“Nooo,” Husk laughs. “S’ much as I like ravishing ya’, Charlie’s makin’ us hot chocolate. She’s been ravin’ about this movie forever, we hafta watch it.”

“I knooow,” Angel sighs, mocking Husk’s tone. He turns and strips, grabbing a pair of warm green pajama bottoms and a white tank top. As he stretches his arms over his head, discarding his usual suit jacket on the floor, Husk watches him change unapologetically, admiring his boyfriend’s startling beauty. How did he land that ? he wonders. 

Angel turns, changed now, and catches him staring. 

“Husk,” he chastises, smirking. “Ya’ said it yourself, no funny business, we’re already running late.”

“I know ,” Husk scoffs, crossing his arms and flushing a little. “What, I can’t admire the view?”

Angel laughs, actually blushing a little, something Husk savors. It’s a rare occurrence when he can make Angelflustered.

“Get changed mista’,” his boyfriend giggles. “They’re waitin’ on us.”

They exit Angel’s room, hand in hand, and descend the stairs, heading into the kitchen. Everyone is there, even Alastor, who Husk decides to just ignore. He’s got a week off work and he and his boyfriend were about to enjoy hot chocolate and a movie.

“Husk!” Charlie calls, waving him over. “Here’s yours. There’s bourbon in it,” she smirks, sliding the mug over to him slyly, like she’s conducting a drug deal. Husk laughs, thanking her. 

“Cherri brought cookies and cannoli’s too,” Charlie says, grinning.

“UGH!” Angel exclaims suddenly from behind Husk. He turns to see his boyfriend examining said cannoli’s, which are in a box on the counter. “These are store bought?” Angel says to Cherri incredulously, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

“I ain’t a fucking chef, the hell was I supposed to do?” Cherri snaps, crossing her arms. “How about a thank you, asshole?”

“Charlie,” Angel says, completely ignoring his friend, “if ya’ wanted cannoli’s, ya’ shoulda asked me. I’da made em’!”

“Okay,” Husk cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Now you’re bein’ a little bitch. When the fuck would you have had time ta’ bake? Tell Cherri thank you and put one on yer fuckin’ plate.”

His friends get a real kick out of this, Vaggie ‘oooing’ as though Angel just got called to principal's office, Charlie letting slip a “oh snap!” Cherri just looks smug, shooting Husk a grin. Angel crosses his arms, frowning, but relents, turning to his friend and begrudgingly thanking her for the food. Cherri flips him off and begins putting marshmallows into her hot coco, seeming unbothered. 

Idle chatter continues as everyone gets their hot coco and fills their plates with food. Angel comes to stand beside Husk, offering him a plate of snacks he’s fixed for him alongside his own. 

“Are you seriously gonna make me eat this?” His boyfriend asks him, looking at the cannoli like he feels sorry for it. 

“Yes,” Husk chides. “Maybe I wouldn’t if you weren’t such a dick about it but now you owe it to Cherri.”

“But it basically goes against my religion,” Angel whines, causing Husk to snort. 

“I didn’t realize that Catholics had something against store bought baked goods.”

Angel scowls. 

“Okay fine, it goes against my culture then. This is an Italian dessert, it deserves ta’ be made properly .”

Husk rolls his eyes.

“You ain’t even tried it, maybe it’s halfway decent.”

Angel looks at the dessert sorrowfully. 

“Doubtful,” he sighs, “but fine. Cherri, I hope you're happy. You’ve forced me t’ forgo all my principles.”

“Oh please,” his best friend snarks. “You don’t have principles.”

Angel just rolls his eyes, biting into the cannoli, looking regretful. 

“Oh, whadya’ know,” he says around the mouthful, wrinkling his nose. “It sucks.”

His face changes suddenly, an odd expression taking over that Husk can’t place. He unconsciously steps towards his partner, instantly worried. Angel, for his part, fumbles for a napkin and actually spits the food out, the odd look still on his face.

“Okay,” Vaggie interjects, frowning. “You’re taking the joke too far Angel, that was fucking rude.”

“And childish,” Cherri chimes in, now looking a little miffed.

“How about we stop critiquing the food and just eat it while we watch the movie,” Charlie suggests, helping the others gather their stuff and move into the living room. Husk grabs his and Angel’s plates, shooting the other man a slightly concerned look. 

“Are you okay?” He asks sincerely, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Angel to do something like that. He and Cherri joked around a lot, it was part of their relationship, but Angel wasn’t one to take a bit that far, and risk actually hurting the other girl’s feelings. 

“Fuck, yeah, I’m sorry,” Angel replies, looking guilty. “I don’t—know why I did that. It just—tasted real weird all the sudden, kinda overwhelmed me. Spidey senses n’ all that. Lemme—go apologize.”

He scampers after the others, catching up with Cherri and gently taking her arm, saying something to her softly. Husk trails behind them, watching as Cherri smiles and gives Angel’s arm a little squeeze, thanking him, but waving him off, taking the other man’s hand and dragging him with her into the sitting room. 

Husk joins them there, sitting down beside the two of them as Nifty makes herself comfortable on his head, despite his protests. Cherri, the devil, coos, and snaps a photo, earning her a glare from Husk. He’s is surprised that she beat Angel to it; he was usually a ninja with that stupid camera. Husk looks at this boyfriend, expecting to be teased, but finds Angel is a bit preoccupied, bringing his elbow up to his face, his eyes fluttering closed as he ducks down, suddenly overcome with a small fit.

“heh-chgx! heh-chm! ehh… ehtchx! chx! chgx!”

He manages to keep the fit nearly silent, stifling them into the back of his wrist, looking like he’s giving himself a headache in the process. Husk furrows his brow as the fit finally dies down, placing a gentle hand on his boyfriend's back.

“You okay?” he asks softly, knowing Angel probably doesn’t want to draw a ton of attention. So far, Cherri is the only other person who’s noticed, and she seems well versed enough to know not to comment, instead inviting Nifty to come join her on the arm of the couch instead of Husk’s head. 

“Mm, yeah,” Angel mumbles, sniffling, his eyes suddenly all watery. “Do you umb…do you habe a—“

He’s cut off as Husk fishes around in the pocket of his sweatpants for a handkerchief, offering it. Angel smiles at that, giving Husk’s hand a grateful squeeze as he takes it, scrubbing his nose a little. 

“You sure?” Husk inquiries, unable to help himself. “You just…your eyes and nose are all red all the sudden.”

Angel shrugs a little, looking relatively unconcerned. 

“I think I’mb fide,” he mutters, snuggling into Husk’s side. “You’re sweet though. Let’s watch the mbovie.”

Reluctantly, Husk drops it, vowing to keep an eye on the other man. Charlie hits play. She and Vaggie are on the other end of the couch, Charlie curled up on one end with Vaggie on the floor in front of her as Charlie begins to play with her girlfriends hair, braiding and unbraiding it the way Husk’s seen them do countless times. It’s sweet, the two of them like this; not that Husk would ever tell them that. Alastor sits in his usual chair, off to the side. Husk is surprised he’s here, honestly thinking the deer would just grab food and leave; he rarely stays for movies. Whatever, maybe Charlie was finally wearing him down into an almost halfway decent person, Husk thought. 

As the movie begins to play, Nifty and Cherri sing along to “This is Halloween”, making Husk chuckle at them fondly. However, it’s getting harder to distract himself from his boyfriend's persistent sniffling and occasional sneezing fits. They don’t seem to be improving, in fact, they seem to be getting worse, one fit finally reaching the point where Angel can’t stifle it.

“ ehh… etch! chx! hah …hah-tchuu! ehhshu! chu! hepshuh!”

“Bless you,” Charlie offers, shooting him a sideways smile. 

“Yeah, for real, are you doin’ okay?” Cherri asks softly, giving Angel a concerned glance. The attention makes his boyfriend blush, and Husk gives his leg a small squeeze, trying to assure him he needn’t be embarrassed.

“Yeah, fuck, m’ sorry,” Angel says, coughing a little and rubbing at his eyes. “Don’ know what’s wrong with mbe.”

“D’ you want a Zyrtec?” Husk asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Angel, now looking definitively worse for wear, with his eyes starting to get a little puffy and his face starting to look a bit pale, nods, sniffling and coughing some more. 

“Fuck, yeah mbaybe I—“

He stops mid sentence and suddenly claps a hand over his mouth, his face going a bit green. 

“Fuck,” Husk hisses, recognizing the look immediatly. “Trash can, we need a trash can.”

As the others begin frantically searching, panicked, Alastor, looking mildly annoyed, just waves his hand and one appears in front of Angel. The other man immediately ducks forward and emptying the contents of his stomach into it. Husk holds his bangs out of the way, rubbing his back and trying to provide some comfort. He knows the other man must be mortified right now. 

“Oh shit,” Cherri says, looking worried as she moves both Nifty and herself out of the way, trying to give Angel some breathing room. 

“Oh no, is he sick?” Charlie asks softly, looking equally concerned and Angel continues to heave into the bucket, sweat now beading on his forehead. That’s when Husk notices the hives. They aren’t very prominent, much less alarming looking than when Husk gets them, but this does little to assuage his worry. He curses, realizing what’s happening, probably before Angel does. 

“Take over,” he says to Cherri, who steps in immediately, holding the trashcan steady and keeping Angel’s hair out of his face as Husk reaches for the cannoli’s on the table. He fumbles for his glasses, finally getting them on and squinting at the box, his alarm growing as he reads the label. Apparently, these are ‘Christmas Themed’ cannolis. He tears open the box and bites into one; his fear is confirmed.

“There’s fucking peppermint in these,” he growls, cursing and tossing the box on the table half-hazardly, returning to Angel’s side. 

Cherri, the poor girl, looks like she wants to die, her face going white as she stares at the box in horror. 

“Oh fuck,” she hisses, sucking in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I wasn’t even looking, I just grabbed the first one I saw. Hell, I didn’t even know he had an actual allergy to it, I thought it was just a scent thing—“

“S’ not your fault,” Angel manages to mumble miserably in between dry heaves. He’d stopped getting anything of substance out ages ago, now just expelling bile and saliva. 

“Perhaps we could relocate our poor friend to a more discrete area?” Alastor chimes in, wrinkling his nose in disgust, causing Husk to bear his teeth. 

“Now, now Husker,” the radio demon warbles, “I was only thinking of Angel. Might he want more…privacy, as this reaction takes place?”

Husk, begrudgingly, knows that his boss is right, and is about to scoop his boyfriend up when Angel starts coughing like crazy. He clutches at his chest in a panicked fashion that Husk has never seen before, and when his boyfriend finally lifts his head, Husk sees that his lips and cheeks have actually started swelling a little, looking puffy and painful. 

Husk watches in horror as Angel's throat begins convulsing suddenly, his coughs dying out and going silent. Husk realizes with a sinking sense of dread that his partner's throat has just swollen shut. Husk has experienced it himself once before, and the paralyzing feeling is burned into his memory; Angel is going into anaphylactic shock.

His brain buffers for just a moment, his own chest constricting with fear seeing his boyfriend’s cheeks start to turn a bit blue, his eyes going wide with panic at the sudden realization that he can’t breathe. He looks at Husk in utter terror, and Husk’s heart feels like someone is using it as a punching bag. 

“He’s not breathing,” Cherri states, her voice rising in alarm as she informs Charlie and Vaggie. “Charlie, call your dad, we need a portal to the hospital, now.”

In the back of Husk’s mind, he’s thinking how grateful he is that someone is taking action, while his own stupid body appears to be frozen here. Cherri’s words finally manage to snap him out of it a little, and he takes Angel’s hand, striving to achieve a somewhat soothing, reassuring tone as he tells his boyfriend not to panic, they’re going to get him help. 

Charlie dials Lucifer's number once, then again. No answer. Husk feels his own frame start to tremble. Angel’s grip on his hand is starting to weaken, the other man’s eyes fluttering a little as he fights to retain consciousness. 

“He needs the doctor now !” Husk shouts, unable to maintain a calm, even tone. Angel is dying. Holy fuck, Angel is dying, and there isn’t anything Husk can do—“

He’s cut off suddenly by a firm hand on his shoulder. He whirls around to find Alastor there, his sinister grin actually almost gone for once. Almost. The overlord gazes on it what sort of resembles concern, and forces Husk to meet his eyes, his tone urgent and commanding. 

“He needs Adrenaline,” his boss informs him, his voice startlingly calm. “Where is your epipen?”

The word sounds so strange and mundane on the radio demons lips, but Husk doesn’t have much time to think about it, realizing his boss is right. 

“It’s—upstairs. Left bedside drawer,” he chokes out, and Alastor vanishes in a crackle of static, returning seconds later and pressing the epipen into Husk’s shaking hands.

Seeing the needle, Angel stiffens, his face going white in panic as he instinctively shakes his head rapidly in protest, his eyes pleading. 

“Sorry baby,” Husk whispers, genuinely meaning it, and before either of them can think too hard about it, he jams the thing into Angel’s thigh. 

His boyfriend jerks in surprise, and then immediately passes out. Husk isn’t sure if it’s from lack of oxygen or from such intense fear of the needle; he hopes it’s the latter.

Charlie, thank god, finally manages to get a hold of her father, who materializes a moment later, apologizing profusely, saying something about being in the bathroom.

Husks entire frame floods with relief, both at the King of Hell’s arrival and at the fact that his boyfriend, though unconscious, has started taking tight, wheezy breaths, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. The epipen had worked its magic. 

The next hour passes in something of a blur. Husk carry’s Angel through a portal into the hospital. His boyfriend is immediately whisked away from him, hauled into a stretcher and hooked up to various tubes and wires as he’s wheeled away through double doors. Husk ears ring slightly, and he finds his legs are suddenly all wobbly. Charlie’s arm comes around him as he stumbles, and she helps him to sit down in a chair in the waiting room. 

Everyone sits in silence for what feels like a long while. Charlie and Cherri hold Husk’s hands. He wants to say something to them, to thank them, to provide them with some kind of comfort, knowing they are just as scared as he is, but no words come. Husk wonders if this is how Angel felt, sitting here in this same wait-room, as Husk was whisked away behind closed doors, suffering, out of reach. 

Beside him, he notices that Cherri is shaking. He looks up and sees that she’s crying. Silent tears fall down her cheeks and she stares straight ahead, worrying her lip between her teeth. 

This shakes Husk out of it a little, and he forces himself to face his friend, giving her hand a squeeze to make her look at him. 

“He’s gonna be alright Cherri,” he hears himself say over the ringing. “This happened t’ me once, an’ I didn’t even have an epipen on me. Got t’ the hospital way later than he did too, I was okay, in the end.”

“I—I k-know,” Cherri chokes out. Husk hasn’t ever seen his friend cry before. “It’s n-not that, I just—fuck, I was s-so careless, I didn’t even—“ she cuts off as her voice breaks in a sob, putting her head in her hands. Charlie, Nifty and Vaggie come to her side instantly, and the four of them wrap their arms around the poor girl, all holding her tight. 

“Cherri, it’s not your fault,” Vaggie says quietly. “It was an honest mistake, any of us could’ve made it. But I…I know how you feel. When Husk had an asthma attack and I…I left him out there, I thought…” she trails off, sighing, looking frustrated. “I felt so guilty, I was sick over it for weeks. Could hardly sleep or eat.”

Husk looks at the other girl, brow furrowing. 

“I didn’t know that,” he says softly, his heart aching a little. 

Vaggie averts her eyes, her face hot. 

“Yeah well. Look, the point is,I know how you feel. But freak accidents happen all the time. All we can do is deal with them in the moment and do our best, okay?”

Cherri, sniffling a little and scrubbing at her face, looking embarrassed, nods. 

 “S’ all gonna be alright Cher,” Husk murmurs. Saying it out loud helps. Both for Cherri’s sake and his own. His friend gives his hand a little squeeze and a small smile, slowly exhaling through her cheeks and calming down. 

Just then, a nurse comes out calling Cherri’s name. The five friends are on their feet instantly, Nifty clutching at Husk’s arm in a death defying grip and climbing onto his shoulder. They all rush over and crowd around the poor nurse, who definitely wasn’t expecting a whole gaggle of people. 

“Is Angel okay?” Charlie blurts instantly, fisting the sleeves of her jacket in her hands anxiously. 

“Your friend is absolutely fine,” the nurse assures, and Husk can feel their collective relief, like a balloon of tension slowly deflating. “He’s recovering very nicely. He even woke up briefly. Unfortunately, we had to insert an IV and he erm. Passed out again. Not a fan of needles, your friend.”

Despite everything, Cherri actually manages a small laugh at this, shaking her head. 

“Yeah that sounds like him,” she says, shooting Husk a smile and giving his shoulder a squeeze. 

The nurse continues to say various things about different medications, using words like albuterol and cortisone; Husk is trying to pay attention but all he can’t think about is wanting to see Angel. 

“He will need to be kept overnight for observation,” the nurse is saying. “He can be discharged first thing in the morning. Which one of you is Cherri?”

Cherri takes a small step forward, raising her hand. 

“You can see him now; you’re listed as his emergency contact. I’m afraid the rest of you will have to wait until morning.”

Husk heart plummets. He feels the ringing in his ears start up again, and fights to keep his chest from getting all tight. Cherri, as if she can sense his anxiety, takes his hand. 

“Is there any way his partner can come with me?” She asks the nurse, pleading slightly, her voice coated in sugar. Husk has never heard the other girl sound so sweet before. He didn’t think she was capable. 

“I’m afraid not,” the nurse says, a bit firmly, causing Cherri to frown. “We only allow EC’s and blood relatives, it’s a safety policy. Though according to Mr. Santoro’s chart, he does have two relatives in Pride, a father and a brother. I'd be more than happy to reach out—“

“No!” Cherri half shouts, instantly quieting as she gets several weird looks, one coming from the nurse herself. 

“Sorry,” she amends sheepishly, still looking flustered. “But ah, no, please don’t—call his family,” she stresses. “He…definitely wouldn’t want that.”

Husk shoots her a glance. He knew little of Angel’s family. He knew his boyfriend had a twin sister in heaven, an older brother, and parents. He didn’t know that any of them were down here though, let alone in the same ring. Angel didn’t talk much about them; Husk didn’t even know his siblings' names. 

“Understood,” the nurse says absentmindedly, not looking like she cares much either way. “You can stay with him for the night, and the rest of you will see your friend first thing in the morning.”

Cherri frowns, shooting Husk an apologetic look, but doesn’t push it. 

“Alright,” she agrees reluctantly, moving to follow the nurse into the back. As she passes him however, she taps Husk’s cellphone inside his pocket, giving a subtle little nod towards it as she pulls out her own phone and starts typing something. 

As soon as she and the nurse are out of view, Husk takes out his phone, and sure enough, Cherri is typing something. 

Don’t go anywhere. Give me 10, will smuggle you in. 

Husk can’t help his face from breaking into a grin. Thank god for Cherri and her absolute disregard for any rules. 

“She’s going to try and get you back there isn’t she?” Vaggie asks, her eyebrows raised, a small smile playing at her lips. 

Husk flushes a little. 

“I…yeah. I’m gonna stick around. But you two go on home. And ah, take this one with you…”

Husk gingerly removes Nifty from his shoulder where the other girl is perched, practically already asleep. Charlie takes her from Husk, smiling.

“Don’t get caught,” the Princess admonishes, looking a little nervous. Husk smirks. 

“Relax kid, we ain’t committin’ murder. If I get in trouble I’ll just head home.” 

Charlie nods, still looking a little nervous, but not fighting it, taking Vaggie’s hand and giving Husk a quick peck on the cheek before carrying Nifty back through the portal that Lucifer is holding open for them. 

Not a moment after the three girls vanish into the portal, does another, taller figure step out of it. Husk stiffens, recognizing Alastor’s form immediately. As the radio demon emerges, several folks in the waiting room scatter, whispering in fear. Husk sets his jaw, unsure what the overlord could possibly want. 

“Ah, Husker!” His boss greets him, striding across the room. 

“The fuck do you want?” Husk says defensively, crossing his arms. Still grinning, his boss rolls his eyes, looking a bit bored. 

“Must you always be so disagreeable?” He warbles, tapping Husk on the head with his microphone. “I am simply here to check on our little spider and offer my condolences.”

Husk raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. 

“He’s fine,” he says flatly, leaning against the wall. “Doctor said he’s doin’ great. M’ waitin’ t’ go back an’ see him now.”

“Splendid!” Alastor says, clapping his hands together. “I was a bit worried this would turn into an affair that lasted several days. Would be a pain to have you away from my side for that long, though I’m sure the princesses would’ve insisted I allow it.”

Husk rolls his eyes. So that’s what this was really about. 

“Yeah, well. Don’t worry, we’ll both be back tomorrow.”

Husk recalls something then, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He knows he needs to say something to his puppeteer, something he never thought he’d say to the other man in a thousand lifetimes. But Charlie would want him to…reward his boss’s good behavior from earlier, try and convince him to make a habit of it. He grits his teeth, closing his eyes and forcing the words from his throat. 

“I should. Thank you. For today,” he grumbles, averting his eyes. He can feel radio demon’s gaze flick to him, calculating. Husk continues, not wanting to drag this out. 

“Thank you for—reminding me about the epipen. And for getting it so quickly. You…you might’ve saved his life today, an’ he…he means a lot t’ me so. Thanks.”

God, it was fucking painful to get the words out, after all the bullshit Alastor us put him through. But he’d do it for Angel. He’d do just about anything for Angel. 

He risks a glace up, finding an expression on the overlords face that he can’t quite place. His boss is notoriously hard to read with that stupid fake smile always plastered on, and Husk can’t recall ever seeing this look on the other man’s face before. It resembles…surprise, maybe? But just as quickly as it comes, it’s gone again, Alastors face slipping back into his usual, uncaring mask. 

“Yes well,” he says, voice clipped. “The spider dying would have certainly had a negative impact on your work performance. You would likely have either tried to kill yourself, or become so drunken and depressed that sending you on jobs would have been impossible.”

Husk snorts dryly, rolling his eyes. 

“Sure boss. Whatever you say.”

“I do expect payment in exchange for that little favor,” Alastor comments, narrowing his eyes. “Just because our Princess has given you the week off does not mean that I have. You will be conducting a task for me this week and I expect it to go off without a hitch.”

Husk, so exhausted from the day's events, doesn’t even have the energy to be annoyed. 

“Course boss,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t expect anythin’ less.”

Alastor hums, seeming satisfied for now. Then, before he can say anything more, Husk hears a loud ‘pop!’ and the entire waiting room is suddenly engulfed in thick smog, everyone yelling, panicked.

“I believe that is your cue,” his boss says, smirking, then vanishes in the blink of an eye. Husk, not wasting any time, hurries over to the double doors that lead into the back, taking advantage of the chaos that has broken out as everyone fumbles around, trying to see. 

As soon as he steps through the threshold, someone is grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into a nearby supply closet. As Husk stumbles inside, he turns to see Cherri, shutting the door behind them. 

“Haven’t used my smoke bombs in ages,” the other girl says, flashing Husk a mischievous grin. “Now c’mere, hop in this bad boy.”

She unfolds a collapsible wheelchair in the corner of the closet, patting the seat. Husk looks at her dubiously. 

“Oh come on,” Cherri hisses. “Everyone will just think you’re a patient! I’ll wheel ya’ to his room and once we’re inside no one will bother us till’ discharge tomorrow. Come on, he really wants to see ya’.”

Husk’s heart gives a little flutter at that, and he reluctantly does as he’s told, sitting in the chair as Cherri gets ready to exit, waiting for a group of nurses to come bustling past, likely going to try and assist with the smoke in the waiting room. 

Quick as can be, Cherri opens the door and wheels Husk into the hallway. Sure enough, countless staff members pass them without so much as batting an eye. Husk keeps looking at every single room they pass with anxious anticipation, wondering if it’s Angel’s. Finally, they reach the very last room at the end of the hall and Cherri wheels Husk inside, hurriedly shutting the door behind them and drawing the curtains. 

Husk sucks in a sharp breath when he sees Angel. 

His boyfriend is on the bed, propped up, looking utterly spent. His face is stark white, almost matching the sheets, and his frame sags against the pillows, small and fragile looking. He’s hooked up to an IV, and has a breathing tube looped around his ears and up his nose. Each inhale looks like it takes a modicum of effort on Angel’s part, the air seeming to stick in his throat with a shuddery wheeze. Husk is on his feet instantly, half tripping as he rushes to approach the bed. At the commotion, Angel tilts his head, glancing over. Despite his sickly appearance, when he sees Husk, his face lights up.

“You came,” he whispers, coughing a little bit, the effort from saying only two words seeming to be too much. 

“Yeah,” Husk replies, forcing himself to smile and fighting to keep his tone from wavering. “Cherri smuggled me in. How’re you feeling?”

Angel gives a dry chuckle, immediately reaching for Husk’s hand as he sits down beside the bed.

“Not great,” his boyfriend rasps, answering honestly. A rueful smile takes over his tired face. “S’ what I get for eating a store bought cannoli.”

Husk bursts out laughing, putting his head in his hand as his shoulders shake. Relief washes over him like gentle rain, the tension rushing out of his body and loosening his chest. He inhales deeply, finally able to get a good breath. Before he knows it, the laughing has turned into crying. Not a ton, but a few tears manage to escape, and soon Husk is laughing and sobbing at the same time, unable to stop doing either. He knows he probably looks mental, but he doesn’t care.

“Jesus Christ Angel,” he chokes out, still laugh-crying. “I ain’t ever—don’t ever scare me like that again. Fuckin’ hell, I don’ know what I woulda’ done if—“

“Shhh,” Angel cuts him off, shushing him and bringing Husk’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m sorry. M’ okay now. Doctor said I got here in—plenty of time.” 

He’s forced to pause mid-sentence and cough a bit, his chest rising and falling sporadically as he fights to get air.

“Hey, don’t talk,” Husk murmurs, hurriedly wiping his eyes and trying to pull himself together. “Gonna exhaust yourself. Just focus on breathing okay?”

Angel leans back against the pillows, looking completely drained, that tiny fit using up the last of his energy. He nods, closing his eyes for a moment and catching his breath. Husk reaches over and grabs the other man’s phone and unlocks it, offering it to him. Angel smiles gratefully.

“Can I get ya’ anything?” Cherri asks, coming to sit on Angel’s other side, giving his hand a squeeze. Angel thinks for a moment, his brain a little sluggish, when suddenly his eyes widen and he begins typing away furiously, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in an adorable manner. Husk and Cherri lean in to look at his screen. 

FOOD!!

Cherri and Husk chuckle. 

“You’re hungry?” Husk asks in disbelief. “Now? You do realize the last thing you ate nearly killed you.”

Angel shoots him a glare, typing some more. 

almost dying burns lots of calories!! im fuckin starving

Cherri snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t know why we’re surprised. You’re always hungry.”

“Well I puked my guts out earlier!” Angel protests, voice hoarse. “My stomach’s empty now!” He breaks off coughing, struggling to sit forward as Husk instantly brings a hand up to his back to support him. 

“We said no talking,” Husk chastises as Cherri fumbles for a glass of water on the nightstand, helping Angel sip some of it gently.

“I’m honestly impressed,” she says to Angel, smirking a little. “You made it…45 seconds? without opening your big mouth.”

Angel scowls, opening his mouth to defend himself, before realizing he was about to prove her point. He shuts it again begrudgingly, crossing his arms and pouting. Husk laughs, pressing an endearing kiss to his boyfriend's temple.

“Alright, alright,” Cherri laughs, giving Angel’s hand a squeeze as she rises. “I’ll go scour the cafeteria and vending machines. See if there’s anything edible in this shithole.”

She heads to the door, shooting the two of them a smile over her shoulder. 

“Be back soon. Take good care of him yeah?” She says to Husk, who nods. 

“Cherri,” he calls out before the girl can leave, making her turn before she shuts the door behind her, eyebrows raised. 

“Thank you,” Husk says softly. Cherri blinks, once, twice. Then she smiles, and exits the room, leaving the two of them alone together. 

“She was crying,” Husk says quietly, rubbing his thumb on Angel’s palm. “Earlier. In the wait room. She feels—real bad about what happened.”

Angel sighs a little, ending in a small cough. He types something and shows it to Husk. 

i know. wish i could say smthn. make her feel better. 

“Mm,” Husk hums, closing his eyes briefly, fighting a yawn. He feels fingers brush his cheek and he opens his eyes to see Angel, running a gentle hand across his face.

“You look tired,” his boyfriend whispers, his voice barely audible. Husk smiles. 

“A little. You look fucking exshausted.” 

Angel laughs a bit, giving a sleepy nod. Suddenly, his eyes flutter closed, and his breath hitches weakly, his lungs not quite able to keep up with the sudden tickle. He brings his wrist to his nose, tilting his head to the left.

“hh… hmchuh ! chu ! eh …ehhtchuh !

They’re so soft, so tiny. The poor kid is already short on air and sneezing isn't exactly helping. 

“You okay?” Husk asks, a little worried. “I’d hoped the antihistamines they gave ya’ would stop the sneezing.”

Angel’s cheeks color a little. 

“They did help,” he wheezes, coughing a bit. “I think it’s the um. The oxygen. I know I need it but it—kind of tickles,” he giggles a little, blushing. 

Husk chuckles, feeling his own face flush a little at that admission. 

“You really can’t stop talkin’, even now, can ya’?” He teases, and Angel rolls his eyes, looking a little sheepish. 

“S’ hard,” he whispers. “I jus’ like talkin’ t’ ya’. Helps take my mind off of…all this.” 

He gestures around them, to the room, the monitors, the IV. As he notes the latter, Husk sees his eyes catch on the needle in his own arm, and his boyfriend shudders a little, somehow growing even paler. Husk gently tilts his partner's chin upwards, away from the IV and into Husk’s own eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Husk murmurs, wincing a little. “About—the epipen. I know you hate needles—“

Angel shakes his head, struggling to sit forward, shushing him. 

“Quit bein’ stupid,” he says, huffing a disbelieving laugh. “If you hadn’t—god, I don’t know if I could’ve…could’ve done it—myself…”

Even just thinking about it, his boyfriend starts to tremble a little, and he’s forced to put a hand on Husk’s arm for support, looking suddenly woozy and lightheaded.

“Hey, whoa now,” Husk says softly, slowly easing Angel back onto the pillows. “Easy. Let’s not think about it okay? Let’s think about—something else, maybe…Christmas?”

Angel, still looking rather pale, furrows his brow. 

“Christmas?”

“Why not?” Husk says, shrugging. “ S’ only a few days away. I know neither of us…really care fer’ it much. But ah…I don’ know. If I’m bein’ honest, I might be sorta’…excited? This year.”

Angel smiles at that, tugging Husk a little closer.

“You goin’ all soft on me Whiska’s?” He teases, making Husk blush a little. 

“Oh fuck off,” Husk growls, looking away. “I try ta’ be nice and distract ya’ and now you’re makin’ fun—“

“No, no, no,” Angel interjects, giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right, I…I— ehh? ehh…ehhh …ehhtchu! heh …hehp-chiew! ihh …ihhshhuu! snniff . Whoa. sniff . S-sorry.” 

The poor kid breaks off then, his shoulders shaking as he coughs weakly into his wrist, this fit lasting nearly a minute. There isn’t much Husk can do, save from rubbing his back soothingly, trying to provide a little comfort. When the fit is finally over, Angel draws a shaky, rattling breath, flopping back against the pillows. 

“Hurts,” he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his chest, grimacing. Husk’s chest aches right along with him. 

“I know,” he says softly, far too familiar with the feeling. “Fuck, first time this happened t’ me, back when I was alive…hurt like a motherfucker. But it goes away fast. Y’ should feel pretty normal again tomorrow morning. Jus’ tired.”

“How old were you?” Angel asks softly, tracing Husk’s fingers. “When it happened t’ you?”

“Like…8? 9? S’ hard t’ remember honestly, it was so long ago. I was at a wedding with my mom. Don’ even remember whose. I ate some lobster an’ 20 minutes later I was in an ambulance.”

“That musta’ be scary,” Angel says, his expression growing sad. 

Husk shrugs. “Like I said. I don’ remember much of it. M’ sure I was fuckin’ terrified though. Specially’ bein’ so young.”

Angel bites his lip, looking away. 

“I…I was real scared today,” he admits quietly, wincing. “Fuck, I thought I was—I thought I was gonna die. Again. Least’ the first time I did that I didn’t really feel anything. OD-ing is kinda like. Fallin’ asleep. Then wakin’ up somewhere strange. This time though I could…I could fuckin’ feel it happening, ya’ know?”

Husk grimaces, wishing he could go back in time and undo this, make it so this had never happened. Angel didn’t deserve to live with the memory of it.

“Yeah,” he says dryly, “bein’ sober’s a bitch sometimes.” 

This makes Angel laugh, and Husk takes a little comfort that at least he can provide a some comic relief. 

“Fuck,” Angel continues, rubbing his eyes a little. The swelling is almost nonexistent at this point, leaving them just slightly red. “I don’t think I’ve been that scared since…since the last time I had ta’ bring you here,” he admits, grimacing just remembering it. “How the fuck have we both ended up here in the span a’ two months?” He chuckles, shaking his head a little in disbelief.

Husk laughs. “We got rotten luck I guess,” he replies. “Think we already knew that though. Look at our fuckin’ lives.”

“I don’ know,” Angel says sleepily, smiling a little. “Even with all this bullshit, I think I’ve been pretty fuckin’ lucky latley,” he teases, giving Husk’s cheek a playful squeeze. Husk bats his hand away, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling. 

“Might have a point there,” he says fondly, lacing their fingers together and placing a small kiss on the back of Angel’s hand. They lapse into silence for a moment, gazing at each other, smiling like idiots. 

“Is…is this what it feels like for you?” His boyfriend asks him suddenly, a bit shyly. At Husk’s confused expression, he elaborates.

“When it happened, it felt like…like all the air was leavin’ my lungs and someone had a fuckin’ chokehold on my throat. The air jus’ wouldn’t come, no matter how much I tried. Is that what it feels like for you? When you have an attack?”

Husk thinks for a moment. 

“S’ similar,” he replies. “But my shit doesn’t usually get that bad. Specially’ not since ya’ dragged me t’ the doctor,” he adds, scowling a little. 

“You were fuckin’ dying,” Angel bites back, exshasperated. “God fa’bid you got some much needed medical assistance you asshole.”

Husk laughs, shaking his head ruefully. 

“Alright, I yield,” he chuckles. “But really, now that I’ve got my new meds an’ my inhaler and all that crap, only thing I really feel is my chest gettin’ kinda…tight, like you always say.”

Speaking of. Husk watches as Angel leans forward a little, and puts a gentle hand against Husk’s chest, right above his lungs. 

“It feels kinda tight right now,” his boyfriend says quietly, glancing up at him, looking worried. Husk blinks a little, looking down. Angel was right, he was wheezing a bit. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“Take your inhaler,” Angel demands, frowning. Husk resists the urge to roll his eyes. Even lying here in the fucking hospital, Angel managed to be worried about someone else. 

“M’ fine kid,” he assures, gently prying Angel’s hand away. “Was just…anxious, about…everything that happened. S’ not bad enough to waste drugs on though, I promise.”

Angel looks unconvinced, still eyeing Husk warily. 

“I’m—sorry t’ drag you here again,” his boyfriend mutters, looking upset. “I know you hate hospitals, I know how anxious they make ya’—“

“Hey,” Husk cuts him off, shaking his head. “I’m okay, really. I was just real worried about you. But now that I know you’re alright…I’m okay. Nowhere else I wanna be right now, okay?”

Angel still looks doubtful, but leans back, too tired to argue. 

“Promise you’ll take it if you need to though, yeah?” He says around a yawn, itching at his arms a little, the diminishing hives still slightly visible. 

“Promise,” Husk says softly as he catches Angel’s wrist. “No scratching, remember? Jus’ makes it worse.”

“These fucking suck ,” Angel whines, gesturing to the hives, fisting his hands in the bedsheets to keep from itching at them. Husk chuckles.

“Yeah, they’re not fun. Sorry kid, was kinda’ hoping you’d never hafta’ experience these. Speaking of, we need ta’ have em’ give you an allergy test,” he murmurs, frowning. “I really thought this body a’ yours just…didn’t like strong scents. You’ve never had any hives or nausea or any trouble breathin’ or anythin’, till now.”

“They’re already doing one,” comes a voice from the door, and Husk turns around to see Cherri slipping back inside, several little snacks in her arms. “They’re gonna do a blood test and give us the results tomorrow morning,” she affirms, walking over. Upon seeing the food in her arms, Angel claps excitedly and extends all four arms greedily, like a child. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want,” Cherri says, “an’ there wasn’t much to choose from, so. Hope you can find something in here that you like. Oh, and here.”

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a bottle of kids chocolate milk. Husk watches as Angel’s eyes go wide with excitement. 

“Oh, fuck yeah, thank you Cher!” His boyfriend exclaims happily. His boyfriend’s ability to speak is seems to already be improving, thankfully. These reactions were scary but medication usually fixed them quickly. Husk watches as Angel hurriedly prys the bottle out of Cherri’s hand and opens the thing a bit like a rabid raccoon.

Husk raises his eyebrows, 

“I didn’t even know you liked chocolate milk,” he chuckles. “Specially’ not the kids' brand.” 

Angel flips him off, glaring, and hungrily tears into a bag of potato chips, chasing it with his drink. 

“It’s what he always wanted when we were high,” Cherri snorts, opening a bag of chips herself. “He’d drag me to the drug store and buy like, ten of these things, he’s obsessed with them.”

“Fuck off,” Angel says, his mouth full. “S’ no different than you with all those fuckin’ gogurt pops in your fridge.”

“Both of you are fucking toddlers,” Husk states, shaking his head a little. 

“Says the guy who still collects action figures,” Cherri shoots back pointedly. Husks face instantly turns bright red, and he whirls on Angel, his face a mask of utter betrayal.

“I showed you those in confidence ,” he hisses, not caring that his boyfriend nearly died an hour ago.

“She’s my best friend!” Angel protests, unable to keep himself from giggling. “I tell her everything. C’mon’, you know I can’t keep a secret, it’s your own fault.” 

Husk growls at both of them, crossing his arms and stewing a little. He feels his face grow hot and kind of wishes he could melt into the floor. Meanwhile, Angel and Cherri continue giggling like school girls.

“Ah, that ain’t even that embarrassing Husk,” Cherri snickers. “What is embarrassing is that thing you guys tried last week, the one where Angel wore the purple strap on—“

“Cherri!” Angel exclaims, now blushing something awful himself. Cherri cackles, looking way too happy with herself. Husk, meanwhile, is trying to figure out how to strangle himself to death with Angel’s IV. 

“Okay, okay,” Cherri concedes. “I’ll stop humiliating you both. Husk, would it help if I gossiped with you about mysex life? Make you feel included?”

“Oh god no ,” Husk chokes, covering his face with his hands and groaning. Cherri just laughs again, tossing Husk a chocolate bar. 

“Just a suggestion,” she says breezily, reaching for a magazine beside the bed and flipping through it, eating her chips and sipping her soda. 

As obnoxious as it was, Husk is kind of happy to learn Cherri and Angel were gossiping about sex again. After Pentious, Cherri went through a long spell where she didn’t want to talk about romance at all…she hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone, about…anything really. Husk catches Angel gazing at his best friend fondly, and wonders if he’s thinking the same thing. 

Angel finishes his snack and lays back, his eyelids drooping closed as he begins dozing off. Suddenly, his phone buzzes in his lap. Husk resists the urge to smash the thing on the floor; how dare it disturb his partner?

Angel picks it up, glancing at the screen, and sighs, coughing a little. Husk catches Val’s name onscreen. He exchanges a wary glance with Cherri who returns it, chewing the inside of her cheek. 

“Will both of ya’ quit it?” Angel scowls at them, declining the call and tossing his phone aside. “I’ve got fuckin’ eyes, I can see when ya’ exchange little glances like that.”

“We’re worried about you dumbass,” Cherri grouches. “Sue us.”

“Ain’t nothin’ worth worryin’ about,” Angel sighs, already closing his eyes again. “M’ takin’ tomorrow off like the doctor said to, an’ I’ll deal with whateva’ bullshit Val pulls when I go back.”

At that, Husk and Cherri exchange another worried look, both knowing there’s nothing they can do, but wishing that wasn’t the case. 

“Mmk, now I can feel ya’ doin’ it,” Angel gripes, eyes still closed, smirking a little.

“You should at least take more than one day off,” Husk suggests, chewing his bottom lip. “I know the medicine works pretty fast but this shit takes a toll on your body.”

Angel, reluctantly, opens his eyes, gazing at Husk tiredly. 

“Husk, the doctor said one day a’ bed rest was more than enough. Ask Cherri, she was here. Sides’ I don’ wanna risk pissin’ him off too bad by takin’ more days. What if he makes me miss Christmas? S’ like you said, I’m actually…kinda excited for it, for once,” he admits, smiling a little. 

Husk sighs, not happy about it, but relents, nodding. His boyfriend’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions. 

“Now, can both of you shut up so I can fuckin’ sleep?” Angel requests, laughing a little and giving both their hands a squeeze.

“ You’re the one doin’ all the talking here,” Cherri points out, but she offers Angel a small smile, getting up and going to turn out the lights. In the darkness, Husk feels his own eyelids start to droop a little, and he blinks several times, trying to stay awake. Then, he feels a spare blanket being draped over his shoulders, and turns to see Cherri, grabbing one for herself as well. 

“Angel,” she whispers sleepily, returning to the other side of the bed and resting her head on her arms near the foot. “Don’ kick us okay? We’re gonna get some shut-eye too.”

She looks pointedly at Husk as she says this, as if daring him to disagree. Husk knows she’s right. He wants to take good care of Angel tomorrow, and he can’t do that if he’s dead on his feet. 

“Mmk,” Angel murmurs sleepily, already drifting off. “Thank you guys…fa’ bein’ here.”

Husk smiles at that, coming to rest his head right against Angel’s thigh, holding his lower hand in his own.

“Course Legs,” he says softly, as Cherri hums in agreement. 

As the three friends drift off together, Husk realizes that despite the circumstances, Angel was right. They are pretty lucky. They have each other, and isn’t that really all that matters?

[coolbeans18]

Chapter Luck 

TW! Mentions of abuse and pstd. Take care of yourselves!
 

Ch. 10 Lucky (Pt.2)

 

PRESENT DAY

When morning comes, Husk is woken by someone shaking his shoulder rather aggressively. He blinks blearily, a bit disoriented at first, as he realizes he’s not in his room. Instead, his neck hurts like a motherfucker, and his back feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it. He groans a little, sitting up, realizing he fell asleep bent over Angel’s hospital bed. No wonder his body feels so shitty. Across from him, Cherri also starts to stir, blinking groggily.

The person shaking him is a very disgruntled nurse, who steps back once he wakes and crosses her arms, frowning. 

“You aren’t permitted to be in here sir,” she says pointedly. Husk glares at her, opening his mouth to tell her to be quiet, but it’s too late, his boyfriend is already stirring, rubbing his eyes in an adorable manner and squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Angel mutters, only half awake. 

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Cherri groans, covering her face with her hair, trying to go back to sleep. 

“What’s going on,” the nurse snaps, her face pinched, “is that you three seem to have no regard for our hospital regulations. Which are in place for everyone’s safety. Heneeds to leave. Immediately.” She points an accusatory finger at Husk, who raises his eyebrows, growling a little. He’s way too tired for this shit. 

“Alright lady, keep your bra on,” Cherri grouches, instantly coming to his defense. “There’s what…half an hour until discharge? I think the damage has been done. Just let us get our shit and bring us the paperwork, we’ll be out of here.”

“I don’t appreciate the tone here young lady,” nurse tight-ass says. “I will gladly bring the discharge paper work and conduct our final screening tests, after your friend leaves.”

Cherri stands up then, and Husk can tell she’s about to haul off and punch this lady. He hurriedly stands and grabs her shoulder, shooting her a firm “NO” with his eyes. Cherri sets her jaw, still looking pissed, but relents, crossing her arms and looking away. 

“Okay, I’m going,” Husk says pointedly to the nurse. He comes around the bed and grabs his jacket, and leans in to give Angel a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“No,” the nurse cuts in firmly, her face going sour. “No physical contact!”

Husk looks at her incredulously. 

“And what are ya’ gonna do?” He says sarcastically. “You’re already kickin’ me out.”

The nurse balls her fists, looking equal parts annoyed and angry.

 “You could be a complete stranger for all we know!” she gripes. 

Angel, now fully awake, scowls at her. 

“I could tell ya’ what his dick looks like,” he says flatly, glaring at the lady. “Would that help?” 

The nurse's face turns bright red, whether from embarrassment or rage, Husk isn’t sure. He ignores her, chuckling, and gives Angel a kiss on the cheek anyway, squeezing his shoulder.

“I’ll be in the wait room. See ya’ soon, okay?”

Angel, still looking upset, huffs, but nods, returning the kiss. 

“Take care of im’ Cher,” Husk calls as he heads out, flipping the nurse off on the way out for good measure. 

He hears her throwing incendiaries at him as he shuts the door, and chuckles. He just hopes Cherri doesn’t bite her head off in his absence. 

He rolls his shoulders a little, making his way to the waiting room and slumping down in the chair, wincing slightly. Fuck, his back hurt. He feels like he’s 70 again. Well. Alive and 70.

He grabs himself a coffee and waits, anxious to get Angel in his sights again. He knows it’s stupid, but every minute he can’t see the other man, his brain is inventing terrifying scenarios about everything that could possibly go wrong. Something Husk had learned about PTSD was that it wasn’t limited to whatever events sparked it. He knew he’d likely go to sleep to dreams of Angel almost dying for several nights after this.

He texts Lucifer (Husk still couldn’t get over the fact that the King of Hell was in his phone, or that his contact name was “Charlie’s Dad”) that they’re coming home, and a portal appears in the wait room. Husk bounces his legs, jittery, until finally, his boyfriend and Cherri appear through the double doors, Angel being wheeled out in the same wheelchair that Husk was wheeled in on. Cherri is pushing it along with one foot and riding on the back like it’s a scooter, having a great time. Angel, for his part, looks very unhappy, crossing his arms and scowling. 

“I told them I don’ need this thing,” he grouches as Husk approaches. 

“Quit bein’ a baby,” Cherri admonishes, rolling the chair to a stop. “The doctor said s’ precautionary. You gotta stay off your feet for the next 24 hours. It’s gonna give your stupid little lungs a chance ta’ recover.” 

“What else did he say?” Husk asks, wanting to make sure he has all the proper information. Cherri takes out some folded papers from her back pocket. 

“S’ all in there,” she says. “I made him write it down because I felt like someone ,” —she looks pointedly at Angel, who scowls at her—“wouldn’t tell ya’ the whole truth. S’ pretty basic, he’s supposed to be on bed rest all day today, take one dose of follow up meds before bed, and erm…not do anything too strenuous for the rest of the week.”

Angel shoots his best friend a glare, looking betrayed. 

“Oh, you mean the typa’ shit he does at work every day?” Husk growls, giving a frustrated sigh. Cherri echos it. 

“Yeah well. I already haggled with him about it and he says he’s going in,” the other girl says sourly, shooting Angel a distasteful glare. “So, s’ your turn. You’ve got 24 hours to convince him.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Angel protests loudly, waving his hands between the two of them, pouting a little. “Quit talkin’ about me like we’re at a parent teacher conference.” 

“Did the doctor say anything else?” Husk asks Cherri, ignoring his boyfriend. 

“Just wrote down some signs and symptoms to watch for, but he says all of his breathing tests and stuff look good, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Oh, he also gave us the allergy test results. Apparently, a lot of the shit this one says he’s just “sensitive” too, are actual allergies,” she says pointedly, giving Angel a look that makes the other man shrink in his seat, averting his eyes. 

“Thankfully the only deadly one is peppermint,” Cherri continues. “An’ only if he eats it. So nothin’ else will cause this kinda reaction, even if he drinks Charlie’s lavender tea again,” she says, smirking.

“Well that’s something at least,” Husk mutters, looking at the list, frowning. Most things Angel had tested positive for Husk could’ve guessed. Lavender, ginger, citrus, eucalyptus, mint, peppermint, rosemary…he’d seen Angel have reactions to all of them. 

“Alright, I’ve gotta get to work,” Cherri says, rousing Husk from his musing. “You got this from here? I’d stay, but with the holidays coming up, I really can’t take the time off…”

“Go,” Angel cuts in, giving his friend a warm smile. “I love ya’, but if I got both of ya’ fussin’ ova’ me I’ll blow my brains out. Get outta’ here.”

Cherri laughs, wrapping Angel in a warm embrace. 

“Okay,” she says softly, pulling back and pinching his cheek lovingly. Her face grows a bit sad then, and she looks down, eyes suddenly filled with guilt. 

“Angel I—I’m sorry again, for—“

“Nope,” Angel cuts her off, shaking his head and putting a hand in front of her face like a stop sign. “Nuh-uh. I ain’t letting you apologize a 400th time. Fa’ the last time, it was Not. Your. Fault. Capisci?”

Angel raises an eyebrow and fixes her with a stern look, daring her to argue. Cherri, looking miffed, rolls her eyes but relents, giving a small nod and squeezing his hand. 

“Good,” Angel says, looking satisfied, and offers her one last hug before shooing her towards the door. 

“Now,” he says in a goofy, brazen voice, pointing towards the portal as if commanding an army. “Husker! Onward! Take me to my pig.”

Husk chuckles, ruffling his boyfriends hair fondly and pushing him across the room towards the portal. When the reach it, Angel starts to stand, but Husk scoops him up before he can, Angel letting out a little yelp of surprise.

“Y-you don’t hafta’ do this,” his boyfriend protests, though the flustered look on his face tells Husk he’s swooning a little. Husk smiles, stepping through and placing a gentle kiss on Angel’s forehead. 

“Doctor said bedrest,” he states firmly. “You’re not walkin’ anywhere today if I can help it.”

Angel flushes something awful, rolling his eyes but not protesting. Husk smirks. His boyfriend is such a sucker for this shit. Husk almost envied how naturally it came to Angel; he liked being taken care of, especially now that they were together. Sure he might protest at first, but it was half-assed, out of politeness. Unlike Husk, who felt genuinely nauseated by the idea of anyone having to take care of him. Well. Used too, anyway. Angel had worn him down a bit, after his asthma attack…

5 WEEKS AGO

Angel was dangerously close to pulling out his own hair. 

He was trying. He was trying to control his temper. But was getting progressively more difficult when his boyfriend seemed hell bent on putting himself back in the hospital.

“Husk,” he tried again, fighting to keep his tone even. “The doctor said it would help. It’s mandatory.”

“I’ll look stupid,” Husk mumbles, crossing his arms and pouting like a two year old. 

“It’s breathing Husk ,” Angel fires back, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “How can ya’ look stupid breathing?”

“Cuz’ he wants me t’ do all these—weird exercises!” Husk whines, his cheeks turning red, and he’s forced to pause to cough a bit, wincing.

“It’s literally two exercises,” Angel says pointedly. “For 10 minutes. That’s it. We can do em’ while we watch TV. C’mon, work with me here.”

Husk sighs, (which ends in a cough) and frowns, crossing his arms and averting his eyes. But he nods, once, relenting. 

Before the other man can change his mind, Angel hurriedly turns on the TV, putting on M.A.S.H (they were about halfway through the show now) and coming to join Husk on the bed. 

“Alright,” he says, showing Husk the pamphlet the doctor gave him. “It’s easy. You breathe in through your nose and make sure your stomach expands while ya’ do it; get air into your diaphragm. Then you exhale with your lips pursed like this—kinda like you’re gonna whistle.” Angel demonstrates, trying it himself. Husk stares at him. 

“You look dumb,” his boyfriend affirms, scowling, and Angel bites his tongue to keep from screaming . 

“I look glamorous, as always,” he says flatly. “Your turn.”

Husk rolls his eyes, flopping back against the pillows.

“Can’t we just skip this?” He pleads, looking at Angel with tired, sad eyes. Angel has to pinch himself to keep from giving in to their every demand. 

“It’s just 10 minutes every morning babe. You were coughing all night, ya’ barley got any sleep. We’re gonna try everything he told us to, okay? Please? For me?”

Husk narrows his eyes, looking very displeased. Angel knows he can’t resist the “for me?” requests and Husk knows he knows. 

“Fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Show me the thing I’m s’pposed t’ do with my lips again.”

“Like this,” Angel mimes, pursing his lips a bit like a fish and smiling. “Kinda like you’re about too…”

He leans in and gives Husk a quick peck on the lips before the other man can protest. Husk lets out a startled laugh, catching Angel’s wrist before he can pull away and gently pulling him back in. Husks lips find his and they really kiss this time, melting into one another just a bit before—

“No,” Angel says, pulling away suddenly, shaking his head, giving a frustrated, albeit endearing sigh. “No making out, y’ can hardly breathe as it is.”

“You’re no fun,” Husk pouts, scowling and crossing his arms. 

Angel just laughs. 

“I’m plenty fun. I’ll show ya’ just how much fun, when you’re better, I promise. But fa’ now I really need ya’ t’ try this breathing exercise stuff for me, okay?” 

Husk groans, but sits up, getting ready. He sees Angel watching him and his cheeks color a bit. 

“No looking,” he says, sounding like a toddler. But Angel complies, moving so that he’s on his stomach, his head at the foot of the bed, watching the show. 

They sit in silence for a few moments, the TV on low.

 

“…Are you doing i—“

“ Yes Angel, I’m doing the thing, it’s breathing, it ain’t gonna be loud,” Husk snaps, coughing a bit in the aftermath.

Angel rolls his eyes, but smiles a little, going quiet again and turning his attention back to the TV. 

Ten minutes comes and goes and he peeks over his shoulder, pleased to find Husk doing as he’s been instructed. 

“You’re all done,” he says softly to his boyfriend. “But y’ can keep going if you want.” 

Husk stops instantly, his face going a bit red. 

“I want breakfast,” he says flippantly, moving to get out of bed. 

“Ah-ah!” Angel exclaims, coming to stop him. “ I will go get you breakfast. You’re on bedrest you idiot, d’ y’ know what bedrest means?”

Husk scowls at him. 

“I can walk to the kitchen and back,” he hisses, looking genuinely upset. 

“I…ain’t sure ya’ can Whiskers,” Angel answers honestly, thinking about the wheezing he can hear in Husk’s throat, the rattling he can feel in Husk’s chest when they make contact. “We can try short trips like that on day three. But for now you're stuck in here.”

“I ain’t a fuckin’ child or an invalid,” Husk snaps, looking extremely unhappy. “I can get my own food.”

Angel grits his teeth and forces himself not to lose it. 

“No one’s saying you’re an invalid. How about we just take it easy for these next two days and do what the doctor said ta’ do? Bein’ over cautious ain’t gonna hurt.”

“Well at least let me try,” Husk argues, stubborn as ever, swinging his legs out of bed and standing up. “I ain’t gonna make you wait on me for shit I might be able t’ do just fine on my own.” 

Angel can hear the tremendous effort that standing takes on Husk’s part, his lungs sounding like leaky balloons.

“Husk,” he says, fighting to keep his tone even. “Please get back in bed. I can get food for you.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have too,” Husk argues, wincing a little as he tries to stand.

“Oh my god !” Angel shouts, finally snapping. “I want to ya’ idiot, that’s the whole point!”

Husk freezes where he is in surprise, looking taken aback. 

“Fuck,” Angel groans, putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean ta’ yell, I just…Jesus Husk, you ain’t makin’ this easy.”

Husk shrinks a little then, closing in on himself. 

“I…I’m sorry,” he says quietly, wincing. “I’m—not trying t’ be difficult—“

“No,” Angel cuts him off, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He comes to kneel in front of Husk and takes his hands. “No, that was my fault. I shouldn't yell. I’m just…I’m worried about you okay? I know you hate…havin’ t’ be helped, but when you fight me on it, all it does is make me more worried, okay?”

Husk meets his eyes, and he blinks a few times like he’s trying not to cry. 

“I just don’t want to be a burden to you,” his boyfriend whispers. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Angel murmurs, his heart breaking a little as he pulls Husk into an embrace. He feels the other man give a shaky inhale against his chest, coughing a little. 

“You are not a burden, Husk,” Angel says firmly, pulling back and looking right in Husk’s eyes. “You’re not. You’re just sick. And it’s okay to need help sometimes. I want to help you, I c-care a hh bout…y hh ou… ehh …ehhtchu! chu! snniff . Mm, sorry.”

Angel winces internally, knowing he’s not exactly helping his case here. 

“See?” Husk says, his eyes clouding and his chest beginning to rise and fall erratically with anxiety. “See, you’re still sick, y-you shouldn’t be—h-having to w-wait on me—“

His voice starts to waiver with nerves as his breathing suddenly becomes very strained and choppy. Angel can feel the building panic under Husk’s skin and he hurries to put a hand on the other man’s chest, bringing Husk’s to his own. 

“Breathe baby,” he whispers, demonstrating. Husk, the poor guy, does his best, trying to mirror Angel. Instead, he succumbs to another harsh coughing fit, his frame shaking something awful. 

Angel comes to sit beside him on the bed and rubs his back, murmuring what he hopes are soothing things to Husk as the fit slowly dies down. 

“Husk,” he says quietly. “Try and calm down okay? You ain’t helpin’ yourself gettin’ worked up and anxious like this.”

Husk struggles to do as he’s told, trying to force air down his throat, his chest tightening and loosening in sporadic bursts. 

“Easy,” Angel murmurs, frowning and squeezing Husk’s hand. “Christ Husk, are you gonna be sick? I can feel how nauseous you are.”

Husk lets out a shaky sigh, dropping his head into his hands. 

“No,” he says softly, sounding exhausted. “I just—fuck, sorry, I always feel this way whenever…I don’t like—putting anyone out. Specially’ you. I don’ know, it just makes me feel really…guilty.”

Angel’s own chest tightens at that. He wishes he could time travel back and wring the neck of whoever had made Husk feel this way, whoever had convinced him that needing help made you unworthy of it. 

“Have you…have y’ talked to Charlie about that?” Angel asks softly. Husk shakes his head. 

“I—no,” he admits. “I…probably should.”

Angel smiles a little. 

“Probably.”

 

They sit in silence for a few moments, letting Husk catch his breath. 

“Husk, I want ya’ ta’ listen to me, okay?” Angel says gently, tilting the other man’s chin up to look at him. “You don’t have Anything . Ta’ feel guilty about. Everyone needs help sometimes. Jus’ cuz you’ve had ta’ muscle through everything on ya’ own before, don’t mean there’s anythin’ wrong with accepting some TLC now . Like y’ said to me: You ain’t alone anymore. You’re my fella. I wanna take care of you.”

Husk laughs at that, blushing a little. Angel grins at him. 

“I just—are you sure you feel okay?” Husk asks quietly, his eyes flicking up nervously. “I don’t want you running around takin’ care a’ me, if you need rest—“

“You’re such a fuckin’ moron sometimes, y’ know that?” Angel scoffs. “Lemme ask ya’ somethin’. If I wasn’t here right now, with you, where would I be?”

Husk glances at him, brow furrowing a little and scowling as he sees where Angel is going with this. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath.

“What was that?” Angel teases, poking his boyfriend. “I couldn’t hear ya’.”

“I said , you’d…be at work,” Husk grumbles, looking away and crossing his arms like a child. 

“That’s right,” Angel needles, smirking. “So ya’ can either suck it up and deal with me bein’ here taking care a’ you, or you can reject the help and I’ll go do a 14 fuckin’ hour shoot with Val. Which a’ those sounds betta’ fa’ me an’ my health?”

Husk glares at him, his cheeks turning red, wrapping his wings around himself, a little stubborn cocoon. 

“You’re bein’ catty,” he growls, his ears pinned back. Angel laughs. 

“Yeah, I am, cuz’ you’re bein’ stupid. Jesus Husk, it ain’t like I’m running a marathon for ya’ here. I just wanna bring you some food. An’ if it’ll make ya’ feel better I’ll curl up right here in bed with ya’ while we eat. That way we’ll both get lots a’ rest. How does that sound?”

Husk chews the inside of his cheek, still looking weary. 

“You promise you feel okay?” His boyfriend asks once more, stressing his words.

“Pinky promise,” Angel says, smiling, offering Husk his little finger. 

“I’m not doing that,” Husk deadpans, making Angel laugh. 

“Fine, ya’ grump. I swear I feel okay. S’ a teeny cold. The sniffles. Barley. An’ if it gets worse I promise t’ ask Charlie or Vaggie or someone for help, okay?”

Husk gives a reluctant nod, his breathing finally returning to somewhat normal. Angel lets out his own tiny sigh of relief.

“Good,” he murmurs, giving Husk’s cheek an endearing kiss. “I’ll be right back okay? Nuggs, you’re on Husk-Duty,” he says to his pet pig, who stares back at him blankly. “Don’ let him leave the bed, understand?” 

Nuggs blinks at him.

“He says he’ll scream if y’ try to go anywhere,” Angel says to Husk definitively, making the other man laugh; a real, loud, full laugh that makes Angel’s heart happy. He hadn’t heard that laugh in a minute, with Husk feeling so shitty. 

“Will you go get the fuckin’ food?” his boyfriend jokes, laying back against the pillows. “Can’t insist on bein’ all helpful an’ then leave me here starving.”

Angel flips him the bird, but leaves the room, smiling. 

 

PRESENT DAY

Husk opens the door to Angel’s room, depositing his boyfriend on the bed and letting Nuggs greet him. The little pig snorts excitedly at the return of his owner, leaping onto the bed and licking his cheek. 

“Ah, gross,” Angel whines, but he’s giggling, prying the excited pig off of himself. “Did ya’ miss me Nuggs?” He coos, giving his pet a tiny kiss on the forehead and a warm squeeze. 

“You want a shower, or food first?” Husk asks, shucking his own coat and shoes and rolling his shoulders a little. 

“Ummm shower,” Angel says, making a face. “I smell like the hospital.” 

Husk shoots him a smile, heading into the bathroom to warm up the water. 

“Are you okay to stand for a bit?” He calls over his shoulder, a little worried. “I know the doctor said s’ probably fine but…”

“I’ll be okay,” Angel says, suddenly right in Husk’s ear, making the other man jump a little. 

“Jesus, don’t do that,” Husk growls as his boyfriend giggles. 

“Sorry,” Angel says, wrapping his arms around Husk’s shoulders from behind. “Y’ know, if you’re really worried about me standing, you could…join me,” he suggests in a low, sultry voice, his lips grazing Husk’s ear. Husk feels a little shiver run down his spine, and fights to keep himself from flushing. 

“If you want,” he says, trying (and failing) to sound casual. “But we’re just gonna shower . No foolin’ around, promise?”

Angel pouts. 

“You’re no fun,” he whines, and Husk laughs. 

“Think I said somethin’ similar when it was me on bedrest,” he teases. “An’ you answered the same way. I’m just doing what past-Angel did.”

Angel huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Past-Angel is an idiot,” he gripes, shucking his t-shirt and discarding it on the floor. “Don’ listen ta’ anythin’ that guy says.”

Husk laughs, slipping out of his own clothes and letting himself admire his boyfriends physique as he finishes undressing. He lets out a low whistle, making Angel blush and giggle. 

“Quit it,” his boyfriend says half-heartedly, “No bein’ sweet and naked. That’s not fair.” 

Husk rolls his eyes, grinning. 

“Get in. Let’s keep this short okay? I want you off your feet.”

Angel pauses for a moment, looking at the ceiling, as if thinking. 

“ Don’t ,” Husk bites, narrowing his eyes. 

Angel blinks at him.

“Don’t what?”

“You’re trying to think of a sex joke!” Husk admonishes, crossing his arms. “Somethin’ dirty t’ say about being ‘off your feet’, like asking me ta’ do—what’s that one pose?—Upstanding Citizen, in the shower.”

“I was not ,” Angel argues, though a giggle gives him away. 

“You were,” Husk growls. “You get that look on your face.”

“What look?!”

“It’s your ‘I’m about to make a sex joke’ look,” Husk affirms pointedly. 

“I don’t have a look,” Angel sulks, brushing past him and stepping in the shower. Husk just smirks, following behind him and beginning to wash his hair while Angel continues to pout in silence.

 

“ …can we do Upstanding Citizen?”

“ No .”

 

5 WEEKS AGO 

Husk wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

Angel came barreling into the bathroom upon hearing the coughing fit. It had started small, but after a solid 60 seconds, Husk realized it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Angel, being right outside, had inferred the same, and had entered the bathroom just as Husk had been forced to sink to the shower floor, not wanting to risk slipping as the lack of oxygen began to make him dizzy. 

“Ah fuck,” Angel cursed, seeing Husk there, his legs still shaking even as he sits down, bent over and hacking into his fist. 

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Angel mumbles under his breath as he hurriedly leaves the room, returning a second later with Husk’s inhaler. “I knew it was too soon t’ let you try standing on your own fa’ this long. Shouldn’ta let you talk me into it.”

He hands Husk the inhaler who takes it with shaking hands, bringing it to his lips. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” Angel sighs as Husk takes two hits, gasping a little as the coughing finally lets up, giving him a break. His throat begins to open up but his chest is still all knotted and congested. He pants, trying to catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. He vaguely registers the water being turned off. How humiliating, he thinks, his face growing hot. He can’t even shower on his own. Not to mention that Husk had enough insecurities about his body without his boyfriend having to see him here, naked, curled up on the floor like some sad stray. 

Suddenly, there’s an arm and a towel coming around his shoulder, and he looks up to find Angel there, joining him on the shower floor.

“You’ll get wet,” he croaks, noting that his boyfriend is still in his clothes. Angel just shrugs, looking unbothered, and wraps the towel around him, giving him some cover. 

“S’ a good thing you sat down,” his boyfriend murmurs, looking worried. “Can’t have ya’ bumpin’ that pretty head a’ yours.” 

Husk looks away, unable to stand how sweet and considerate his boyfriend is being. Fucking hell, he just collapsed in the shower, unable to do even one fucking thing for himself, and here was Angel, not even a little bit annoyed. Husk couldn’t wrap his mind around it. 

“Jus’ lemme know when you’re ready t’ try getting up okay?” Angel says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder, offering him a gentle, albeit concerned smile. “Take your time though. I’m sorry ya’ feel so shitty.”

Husk blinks at him. 

“I don’ get you,” he says finally, scowling a little. 

Angel quirks one eyebrow up in that adorable manner of his. 

“What’dya mean?”

“I mean,” Husk rasps, having to pause to cough a little. “You ain’t…annoyed or…or frustrated with me? Even a little?”

Angel frowns. 

“Why would I be annoyed?” He asks, and fuck , the kid genuinely means it. He can’t fathom why having to wait on Husk hand and foot would bother him at all. 

“I can’t even do one simple fuckin’ thing on my own,” Husk stresses, his face and neck hot with embarrassment and guilt. “That don’ bother you none?”

Angel looks at him with an expression Husk can’t place. 

“I’m just worried about you baby,” his boyfriend says softly, tilting his head and brushing a stray piece of hair out of Husk’s eyes.

Husk huffs, (which turns into a cough) and looks away. 

“Why the hell would I eva’ be…annoyed or angry with ya’ Husk?” Angel asks, brow furrowing. “Who’d get upset with ya’ for shit like this?”

“Everyone!” Husk exclaims, though it comes out as more of a rasp; he can’t muster much volume behind his words at the moment. “Literally everyone would be at least a littlefed up at this point. S’ been two days and I can’t even stand on my own. M’ sure even Charlie’s a little peeved that I can’t be at the bar.”

“She’s not,” Angel insists, his eyes narrowing a little. “Ain’t nobody mad, or even a little annoyed about helpin’ you out Husk!”

“Alastor is,” Husk says darkly, his tone cold. 

“And?” Angel fires back, exasperated. “He’s a prick. Is he who ya’ mean when you say ‘everyone’? What’s this really about Husk? Who made ya’ feel like this?”

“I don’t know!” Husk half shouts, honestly. He breaks off coughing, and fists his hands in his hair, frustrated. Angel, patient and saint-like as ever, waits for him to finish, looking like he wants to touch him, but opting not too for the moment. 

Normally Husk would be grateful for this; he wasn’t always the biggest fan of touch when he was on edge. But right now, it just pissed him off even more; how was Angel being so god damn attentive and perfect, anticipating his every want and need? It was nerve wracking, having someone dote on him this way and expecting nothing in return—every nerve in Husk’s body stood on end, waiting for the catch. 

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more quietly this time, closing his eyes and trying to breathe. “I don’ know…why or what or who but…fuck, I just—every time you do anything for me, it feels like…like somethin’ real bad’s about t’ happen.” He lets out a shaky exhale, blinking back tears. “I…I can’t explain it, I know it sounds so stupid—“

“It doesn’t,” Angel cuts him off, taking his hand and meeting Husk’s eyes. His expression as he gazes at him is soft, understanding, but also a little…pained, sorrowful. 

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Angel says quietly but fiercely. He pauses then, taking a breath. 

“Can I ask ya’ something?” He continues, talking slowly, as if pondering. Husk, coughs a little, and nods, stiffly. 

“When you…when ya’ convinced Alastor ta’ rent me out for a few days, t’ give me some time off?” Angel says softly, rubbing Husk’s knuckles with his thumb. “S’ that why he sent ya’ off on that job, in the storm? The one where you—you came home all—y’ know.”

Husk, unable to meet Angel's eyes, gives a short nod. Angel, wincing a little, looks away. 

“Yeah, I figured,” he murmurs, letting out a pained exhale. He turns back to Husk, managing to catch the other man’s eyes. 

“Husk,” he says quietly. “When was the last time someone— anyone —did ya’ a favor, a real favor, that didn’t come with…consequences? Afta’ the fact? Otha’ than these last few days with me, I mean?”

Husk stares at Angel. He thinks for a moment.

“I…I don’t know,” he replies, his voice a broken whisper. “Maybe…my mom?”

Angel's whole face changes then, the look in his eyes becoming shattered, mournful, pained. Husk doesn’t know if he’s ever seen the other man look so sad.

“Well no wonder you’re such a nervous wreck,” Angel finally says after several beats of silence. His voice is tight and strained. “Christ Husk, ya’ ain’t had anyone just be kind ta’ ya’ without strings attached in fuckin’ decades. All this time down here with Alastor’s got your brain thinkin’ that a favor eventually means pain and…and a whole bunch of otha’ bad shit.”

Husk looks away, unable to stand the heartbroken look Angel wears on his behalf. The truth of his words rings in Husk’s ears. 

“You could give Charlie a run for her money,” he mutters gruffly, fiddling with one of his wings and curling in on himself. 

Angel laughs a little at that, though it’s empty sounding. 

“Fuck Husk,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I…I know what it’s like. When your brain can’t tell the difference between two totally different fuckin’ things, no matter how hard ya’ try.” 

Husk looks over at him then, and sees Angel fidgeting with his gloves. 

“S’ kinda’ like…how, when I get—touched certain ways, even by accident, or by someone I—“ Angel’s voice breaks a little, and he takes a breath, trying to keep calm. 

“Val’s got my body an’ brain all sorts a’ fucked,” he says sourly, meeting Husk’s eyes. “Charlie…has me do this counting exercise, when it happens. Ya’ count ta’ 10, forwards, then backwards, then odd numba’s, then evens. An’ when you’re finished, ya’ s’pposed to say some affirming phrase or somethin’, remind yourself that you’re safe, or that nothin’ bad’s gonna happen. Do you…maybe wanna try? She can probably give ya’ a better one, more specific to you, but I figure—“

“Okay,” Husk says quietly, nodding a little. “We can…try it.”

It feels silly at first, the two of them, sitting on the shower floor, counting out loud to each other. But Angel just smiles at him, and holds his hand, and soon, Husk feels his heartbeat start to slow. When they reach the end, Angel leans in and brings their foreheads together. 

“Husk,” his boyfriend whispers. “I’m takin’ care of you because I want to. I don’t want or expect anythin’ in return, and I’m not gonna punish ya’ in any way afterwards. I’m so sorry you been taught that favors hafta’ cost something. That there’s anythin’ wrong with needin’ help once and while. But there isn’t. An’ I’ll tell ya’ that as many times as you need ta’ hear it.”

Husk doesn’t realize he’s crying until Angel brings a gentle thumb up to wipe his cheeks and pulls him into a hug. He sniffles a little, burying his face in Angel’s chest and holding him close. The crying takes a toll on his breathing but he finds he doesn’t care; he needs to cry, to be held, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he isn’t afraid. 

 

PRESENT DAY 

Angel is on step three of his skin care routine when his legs start to wobble a little. Husk sees him wince as tightness begins to build in his chest, and he forces the other man to rinse off and get out. Angel whines the whole time. 

“I have to moisturize!” He complains, even as he begins to cough, the wheeze in his chest returning. Husk half drags him over to the ledge of the tub and sits him there, bringing a towel over to dry them both off. 

“Your face ain’t gonna fall off because ya’ skipped two steps Angel,” Husk gripes, rolling his eyes and tousling the other man’s hair playfully. When his boyfriend emerges from the towel, his hair is a poofy mess, and he’s pouting. Husk chuckles, wondering how anyone can look that endearing. 

“This is an unprecedented situation,” Angel quips. “Uncharted waters. We got no idea what’s gonna h~ hh~happen …ehhh …ehhhtchu! tshhhuh! snniff . Mm, scuse’ mbe.”

Husk frowns. 

“Kinda hoped all those antihistamines they gave ya’ woulda’ taken care of that by now.”

“They did, mbostly,” Angel says, rubbing his eyes a little. “Now, s’ just like thdis…annoying prickling? In mby throat and mby ears and mby ndose.” He scrunches up the latter in an utterly adorable manner that gives Husk butterflies in his stomach. 

“M’ sorry,” Husk says sincerely, finishing drying himself off and offering Angel his hand to help him stand. “These kinda reactions suck.”

“I feel okay,” Angel says softly, coughing slightly and letting Husk help him over to the bed. “Just kinda tired an’…shaky? Know what I mean?”

Husk nods, hurriedly throwing on a t-shirt and shorts while Angel watches him from the bed fondly. 

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Husk says, blushing a little as he brings Angel a t-shirt and pajama pants, helping the other man into both. 

“Nothin’, you’re just sweet,” his boyfriend giggles. “Waitin’ on me an’ shit.”

“Yeah well, you’re easy,” Husk mumbles, flushing a little. “Unlike…some people.”

“Ah, you weren't that bad,” Angel smiles, raising his arms over his head and letting Husk tug his shirt on. Husk gives him a look. 

“…Okay, you were that bad,” Angel admits, laughing a little. “My grumpy little kitten. Ya’ let me look after ya’ though, eventually. Just took us a couple tries.” 

Husk laughs. “What can I get you to eat?” He asks, joining Angel on the bed. 

Angel’s eyes light up at the mention of food.

 “Eggs!” He says instantly. “Or pancakes. Or both. Can I have both? 

Husk chuckles. “You can have whatever you want kid. You earned it. Sides, it’ll be good t’ get food in you. You’re lookin’ a little peaky.”

It’s true; just the short period of time standing in the shower has made Angel’s face a little pale, his breathing a little raspy, his eyelids dotted with purplish hue. Angel sighs, nodding a little. 

“Yeah I ah...mighta’ over done it jus’ now,” he admits, coughing. Husk frowns. The poor kid really does look exhausted. 

“Well, ya’ ain’t gotta get out a’ bed for anythin’ starting now, yeah?” He murmurs, gently helping Angel lay back and get under the covers. “M’ gonna go get breakfast and take of you, for the rest of the day.”

Angel raises his eyebrows, smirking a little. 

“Should I fight ya’ real hard on it?” He teases? “Argue with ya’ every step of the way, for old times sake?”

Husk shoots him a glare, his cheeks turning red. 

“Oh fuck off,” he growls, hitting Angel with one of the pillows. 

“Oh come on!” Angel laughs, looking way too happy with himself. “What, you can dish it but can’t take it? I feel like I should at least make this a little tedious for ya’, so you can hear how dumb you sounded. I think I’m gonna get my own breakfast—“

He starts to sit up, but Husk stops him with a hand on his shoulder, scowling at him.

“You’re not leavin’ this bed for the rest of the day,” he growls. “Specially’ not for a fuckin’ bit. Make fun a’ me all you want but I’m gonna cater t’ ya’ like fuckin’ royalty and you’re gonna sit there and shut up and be happy about it. Got it?”

Angel’s cheeks turn a little pink at that, and he gives a nervous giggle.

“That was hot,” he says, flushing, and Husk rolls his eyes, exacerbated.

“That ain’t the goal here either!” He snaps, crossing his arms.

Angel laughs. 

“I can’t help it!” He giggles, blushing adorably. “You know how much I like this kinda stuff, I practically…shouted it at ya’. Before.

Husk chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, you did,” he laughs. “That was…one way t’ get me to be less…”

“Impossible? Insufferable? Dense as a fucking doornail? You stop me when I’ve reached the right word,” Angel quips, smirking. 

“Fine, fine,” Husk says, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, all of the above.”

“It worked though, didn’t it?” Angel says, grinning. Husk smiles. 

“It did.”

 

5 WEEKS AGO

“Fa’ the love of god Husk, quit apologizin’,” Angel huffs, exasperated. It was day 3, and Husk had almost made it through a full shower on his own. Almost. He’d had a dizzy spell on the way out of the bathroom and stumbled a little, catching himself on the nightstand as Angel quickly scooped him up and carried him the remaining few steps to the bed, Husk apologizing profusely the whole way. 

“Sorry,” Husk rasps again, then winces, realizing he’s just apologized for apologizing. Angel snickers a little, unable to help it. 

“I promise ya’ it’s no trouble baby,” he says fondly, fetching Husk some warm dry clothes as the other man has begun shivering. The storm was also going on day three, the power having been out the whole time. The temperature wasn’t too bad during the day, but in the evening, the biting cold started to creep in, forcing the residents to dawn sweatshirts and beanies and scarves. Husk insisted on Angel being bundled up in all three. 

While Angel had kept the fire going, he’d realized early on that if the fire grew too big, too much smoke would get into the room, and just aggravate Husk’s poor lungs more. Still, given the way the other man was trembling, Angel desperately wished the hotel had a backup generator. Maybe he’d offer to help Charlie track one down. The cold air wasn’t exactly doing Husk any favors either, not to mention Angel himself…

As badly as he wanted to ignore it, the chilly air wasn’t exactly agreeing with him either. His cold wasn’t too bad, but it definitely wasn’t improving. As he wait for Husk to change, he can’t help the tiny shiver that breaks out, down his spine and across his skin, followed by two tiny—

“chu! eh-tch!”

He dares to hope for a moment, that Husk hasn’t heard him—

“Fuck,” he hears Husk curse from behind him, sounding utterly miserable. “See? You’re getting worse. P-Please go downstairs and w-warm up by the fire?”

He doesn’t miss the shudder in Husk’s voice. 

“Why would I do that?” Angel scoffs, coming to maneuver Husk under the covers before the other man can protest. “Then you’d just be cold. And alone. Why don’t we warm up like this instead?”

Angel slips under the covers, pulling Husk in against him. The other man lets out a little purr of content, unable to help himself. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Husk snaps, looking down at his own body with a glare of betrayal. “I still think you should go to a warmer room.”

“I think you should shut the fuck up and cuddle with me,” Angel hums, gently rubbing Husk’s chest, trying to loosen some of the tight congestion there. Husks purring grows louder at the sensation, and Angel smiles. 

“This is fucking humiliating,” Husk mumbles, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t even handle a little bit of smoke from the fucking fire.”

“That just means we get to snuggle more,” Angel teases, running soothing hands down Husk’s back as the other man coughs a little, sounding worse for wear. Touching him, Angel can feel the disturbing rattle in Husk’s lungs, the tender soreness of his throat. And he can also feel echos of the intense shame and guilt Husk is feeling.

“Sweetie, I’m gonna warm up in no time,” Angel says softly. “I wanna be here with you, I wanna take care of you—“

“I know,” Husk sighs, bordering on a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, I know, I know I got—no reason t’ feel this way, I’m trying—“

“I know Husk,” Angel stresses, cutting in as the other man’s voice is starting to sound hoarse from so much talking, his creeping exhaustion evident. “I know you’re trying. S’ not gonna happen overnight baby. I just…wish there was somethin’ I could say in the meantime ta’…help.”

“I feel like it’s my fault you’re starting t’ feel worse,” Husk says quietly, wincing. 

“Well that’s stupid,” Angel says, frowning and sitting up a little. “It’s a cold Husk, it’s gonna do what it’s gonna do.”

“Yes, but if you were warmer—“

“I am warm Husk, I promise, I left the covers for three seconds to come help ya’ out—“

“An’ you shouldn’t have had to do that!” Husk rasps, voice rising. 

“Oh my god Husk, I get that you’re anxious but you gotta stop getting worked up over 3 seconds a’ effort on my part!” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you’d be honest with me about how you’re feeling! How am I spposed’ t’ not worry if you’re feelin’ poorly?”

“Husk, it was two sneezes—“

“I can tell you’re getting worse Angel, I’ve spent every second with you the last three days, you aren’t as good at hiding it as you think you are, you promised you’d go get Charlie to take over if you needed too—“

“I’m well enough ta’ look afta’ you, specially’ now that you’re on the mend—“

“You can’t like havin’ ta’ wait on me while you’re under the weather—“

 

Angel kisses him. 

 

That shuts Husk up. 

 

When Angel pulls away, Husk has to pause and catch his breath. He isn’t complaining. 

“Husk, you fucking moron. I don’ mind helpin’ ya’ out. As much as I…want ya’ to be well, I…I kind of…like this, okay?” 

Angel feels himself flush at the admission. He usually doesn’t have any qualms talking about anything sex or romance related. And Husk already knew about his kink, hell, he had the same one! But they hadn’t really discussed specifics before. He wasn’t sure if Husk would find this weird, especially given his complicated relationship with being cared for. 

“I…you do?” Husk asks, tilting his head in an adorable way, his ears perking a little. Angel nods, sheepishly. 

“I mean I don’t—I know you’re worried about me, an’ my health, an’ that’s real sweet, but I…I don’t wanna ask Charlie t’ take care of you because I’m…enjoying it. A lot. Like A LOT, a lot. I…this is kinda a fantasy a’ mine.  No, fuck that sounded wrong, it’s not like. I’m not rooting for this, I hate that this happened ta’ you, what I meant is—“

“Angel,” Husk cuts him off. 

He’s smiling. 

“If ya’ keep talkin’ you’re gonna run out of words,” Husk chuckles. Angel feels himself flush red, and scowls at him, looking away. 

“So you…like doin’ this shit for me? Even the annoying shit? It…it turns you on?”

Angel lets out a little groan of embarrassment and manages a nod, putting his head inside his shirt. 

“Is that weird?” He asks quietly, voice muffled from within the little cave he’s made for himself. He feels someone gently tugging on his shirt, and it comes down just far enough to allow his eyes to peek out. He finds Husk there, offering him a soft smile.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I actually kinda get it. I don’t know if I’m the exact same way, but. It does make sense to me.”

“I just…this shit is like, the polar opposite of what I get at work all day,” Angel confesses softly. “I guess I like that. Fuck Husk, I know you hate it, an’ that makes me feel bad, but you’re just so fucking cute like this.” He laughs a little, nervously. “Now that you got meds an’ I ain’t worried about you dyin’ on me, I mean. You’re just usually so much betta’ at all the romantic shit than me, the dates and the gestures an’ sweepin’ me off my feet and…I don’ know, I like bein’ the one to take care a’ you for a change. I just hope you don’t—“

He’s cut off as Husk pulls him into a hug. 

Angel freezes for half a second, a bit caught off guard. Husk rarely made moves like that; that was Angel’s thing. But the other man nestles himself into Angel’s embrace, right against his chest, and Angel feels his heart soar. 

“Thanks,” Husk says softly against his skin, almost a whisper. “For…sayin’ all that. I know you were nervous ta’ admit that but it um. It helps. A lot.”

Angel smiles, burying his face in Husk’s hair and squeezing him tight. 

“M’ glad Whiskers,” he says. “I’m real glad.”

 

PRESENT DAY

Husk brings Angel’s breakfast up on a little standing tray he managed to find in the kitchen, eggs and pancakes, as promised. He added strawberries to the pancakes, knowing Angel loved that, and brought him some green tea with honey and lemon. 

“Mio caro,” Husk says with a grin,  presenting it to Angel with florish. His boyfriend blushes, giggling. 

“Sei troppo dolce,” he replies, giving Husk a peck on the cheek. “But where’s your breakfast?”

“There’s like, three servings of everything, jackass,” Husk admonishes, chuckling. “Not even you can eat this much.”

Angel shrugs. 

“Agree to disagree,” he smirks, digging into the food. Husk sits across from him, and the two war with their forks, snagging bites where they can while the other fights them for it. Husk leaves the last piece of strawberry for Angel though; he’s not a monster, the poor kid is recovering. 

Husk helps tuck Angel in after he’s done, clearing the tray and coming around to crawl under the covers and join him. Angel burrows into his side instantly, giving a happy little hum. 

“Ugh, hospital beds suck,” his boyfriend l admonishes, coughing a little. “This is much better.”

He smiles as Husk’s arms come around his shoulders. He begins carding his fingers through Angel’s hair, pressing  a soft kiss to his temple, smiling. He yawns a little then, unable to help it.

“You look tired,” Angel says softly, gazing up at him through his bangs. “Sorry ya’ had ta’ sleep all bent over.”

“Nah,” Husk protests, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not. I’m glad I got t’ be there with you.”

“Me too,” Angel says sleepily, fighting to keep his eyes open as he lays against Husk’s chest. “I'm real lucky. Everything’s…better when y~ hh ~your…a hh round, ugh, huh -hold on, gonna…iihhshu! ksshuh! shu! ahhh… ahhchu! Ah, sorry,” he says, blinking and looking up sheepishly from where he’d ducked into his wrist. “I ah…I always forget, your fur kinda… tickles.” He laughs a little, reaching for a tissue and lightly blowing his nose. 

Husk, for his part, is frozen there, as his brain malfunctioning after that…display. Angel notices, and giggles, returning to Husk’s slide and propping his head on his arm, smiling at him fondly. 

“I—sorry,” Husk manages to get out, his throat suddenly dry. Angel giggles, coughing a little. 

“Don’t apologize. Can’t believe you’re still embarrassed about this stuff,” his boyfriend teases, making Husk flush even further. 

“I guess I just…feel kinda bad,” Husk admits, chewing on his bottom lip. “I don’ want ya’ t’ feel poorly, I feel all guilty for…getting any enjoyment out of it.”

“You and this guilt,” Angel sighs, rolling his eyes. “S’ like I’m stuck here waitin’ on the divorce papers between you two.” 

That makes Husk laugh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. 

“You ah…you might be waitin’ a while,” he admits sheepishly, rolling to face Angel, who just grins at him. 

“I don’ mind bein’ the mistress,” he jokes, planting a tiny kiss on the corner of Husk’s mouth. “Long as ya’ promise to make an honest woman outta’ me someday.”

Husk chuckles as Angel returns to his previous spot, right on his chest. 

“You’re gonna make yourself sneeze again,” Husk points out, though his stomach is doing little somersaults at the thought. 

“I don’ care,” Angel mumbles sleepily, his eyes already closed. He stiffens slightly then, and pulls back, looking up. 

“I mean,” he amends hastily, cheeks turning pink, “if you don’t mind. Sorry, I shoulda asked you first.”

Husk rolls his eyes. 

“I think you just wanna watch me get all flustered when I tell you I definitely don't,” Husk growls, (getting flustered). Angel laughs. 

“I was bein’ genuine,” he insists, giggling. “But that’s fa’ sure a plus. Like I told ya’ before, I like this whole...dynamic. Like…a lot.”

He buries his head in Husk’s shoulder, face heating up a little. Husk smiles. 

“You like it reversed like this too?” He asks softly, curious. “Even when you’re the one that’s…feelin’ like shit?” 

Not looking up, Angel nods against Husk’s forearm, letting out a tiny “mhm.” He says something else then too, but with his face buried this way it just sounds like a muffled jumble. 

“I can’t hear ya’ when your bein’ all shy,” Husk teases, wiggling out from under Angel and forcing him to lift his head. “Cmon’, you’re never shy about this stuff, that’s my thing.”

Angel laughs, looking down. 

“You said it yourself, we’re doin’ a role reversal,” he jokes, glancing at Husk, his cheeks the cutest shade of pink. “I don’ know, I guess I do kinda get what you were sayin’, about erm…it being kinda embarrassing, being waited on all the time. But I think I’m more embarrassed because I like it.”

“Well I like doing it,” Husk says, smiling. “Taking care of you. And I like that you like  it.”

Angel yawns, tugging Husk closer. 

“I like that you like that I like it,” he says sleepily, his nose twitching just a little as it makes contact with Husk’s fur. 

Husk chuckles. 

“I think you need t’ sleep,” he suggests softly, running a hand through Angel’s hair as the other man sighs contentedly and relaxes, practically already dozing. 

“Mm, yeah I think I’ hh m… snniff …mm, I think I’m g-gonna…sl hh eep… heh! hehtchu!” 

The single sneeze is high pitched and adorable. Angel ducks against Husk’s chest just slightly and twitches his nose in the aftermath, only half conscious. Husk forces himself to breathe, trying not to get riled up while his boyfriend is so clearly exhausted. 

“Okay baby,” he whispers, smoothing his boyfriend's hair. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[coolbeans18]

TW! Mentions of physical abuse and SA. Blood and injuries are described and descriptions are a tad explicit. Please take care of yourselves! Not tons of sneezing in this one but lots of cute caretaking and more sneezes coming soon:)

Ch.11 Happy Holidays (Pt. 1)

Angel’s POV

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

Angel sighs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“ Yes Husk, for the millionth time. I feel fine.”

“Why don’t you just go back on Wednesday? Take one more day of rest? Or go back next week! You already got Thursday and Friday off…just take an extra two days and go back when you’re healthy. Maybe Val will be relaxed from the long weekend and forget—“

“ Husk ,” Angel cuts him off with a stern look. His boyfriend grows quiet, looking away. Angel finishes his eyeliner and comes to sit beside the other man on the bed. He takes Husk’s hands to stop them from their anxious fidgeting. 

“It’s gonna be fine. I know him, I know how he works. The longer I take off, the worse it’s gonna be when I go back. If I do this now, it's like rippin’ off a bandaid. He’ll be pissy, make me do a few fucked up shoots, probably keep me kinda late, and then he’ll be over it. Remember what happened last time I took a whole week off?”

Husk winces, as if the memory physically pains him.

“I’m still sorry about that,” he says quietly, his voice strained. “You shouldn't've…had to take so much time off, caring for me.”

Angel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“No, fuck, that’s not what---that isn’t what I meant, it ain’t your fault you were in sucha’ bad way, I just mean that I don’t want him keepin’ me there for three whole fuckin’ days again, makin’ you all crazy with worry. And I definitely don't wanna miss the holidays! Christmas and the first day of Haunaka are on the same day this year, Cherri is all psyched fa’ me to light the menorah with her an’ Charlie’s got us all doin’ gifts in the morning…I wanna be there.”

Husk sighs, looking hesitant, but nods a little.

“Alright. But I’m gonna drive you there and pick you up. I don’ want you exerting yourself anymore than you have to.”

Angel chuckles a little, blushing.

“You’re sweet. You gotcha’ self a deal.”

They descend the stairs, stopping in the kitchen for breakfast. Nifty made some very burnt toast that Angel chases with fruit and orange juice. Charlie lends them the car keys and makes Husk promise not to crash the thing. They head outside, and Husk insists on making Angel wait on the porch while he pulls the car around. When the he pulls up, Angel starts down the steps as Husk hurriedly puts the car in park and runs around to open Angel’s door for him. It makes Angel blush like a fucking teenager, his insides going all warm and fuzzy. 

“What a gentleman,” he giggles, letting Husk take his hand and help him inside. Husk shuts his door and returns behind the wheel, pulling out of the driveway. Angel puts on music, trying to distract himself from their destination. 

“Feelin’ okay?” Husk asks, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. Angel smiles at him fondly, rolling his eyes. His boyfriend is such a worry wart. 

“Yeah, feelin’ good. Specially’ since I got my own lil’ chauffeur. I didn’t even know ya’ could drive.”

Husk looks at him in surprise.

“I--Angel, can you not drive?”

Angel feels his cheeks grow pink, suddenly a little self conscious. 

“Errr…no. Neva’ learned. Quit laughin’! I grew up in Brooklyn, we walk everywhere. An’ then I got here, and Val sure as hell ain’t teachin’ me…”

“I’ll teach ya’, if you want,” Husk says, shooting him a grin. “S’ not hard to learn.”

Angel’s face lights up.

“Really?”

“Course’,” Husk chuckles. “Don’ know when either of us would ever be able t’ afford a car, but you should still learn how.”

“Maybe we could get one together,” Angel suggests. “Split the cost. It’d be kinda nice, we wouldn’t hafta’ take the bus or the train everytime we wanted ta’ go…more than 20 minutes from the hotel,” he chuckles.

Husk glances at him, with an odd expression on his face.

“What?” Angel asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Husk says, flushing a little. 

“Well now ya’ hafta’ tell me,” Angel demands, squinting at his boyfriend, who chuckles.

“I don’t know, just…buying a car together? Ain’t skipping like 15 relationship steps?”

Angel scoffs.

“What, is there some rule book I ain’t aware of? S’ not like I suggested we have a fuckin’ kid.”

Husk chokes on his own spit at that, the car veering slightly and making several people honk at him. Angel cackles, relishing the look on his boyfriend's face. 

“The fuck is the matter with you?” Husk wheezes, clutching the steering wheel for dear life. Angel giggles.

“Sorry, sorry,” Angel laughs, planting a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. “Please don’t revoke my driving lessons.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Husk grumbles as they pull up to the curb. They're only a few steps from the studio, but Husk parks around the corner of another building, keeping the car out of sight.

“This close enough?” Husk asks, looking very nervous. “I’d bring ya’ right to the front but I don’t wanna risk Val seeing me…”

“This is perfect,” Angel say, trying for a reassuring smile. “Don’t wait up fa’ me tonight, okay? I may be a little late, but that's normal, yeah? I’ll text ya’ as often as I can and I promise I’ll let ya’ know if I need anything.”

Husk looks on warily, seeming unconvinced. 

“Mhm,” he mutters, chewing the inside of his cheek the way he does when he’s anxious.

Angel gets out, and walks around to Husk’s side of the car, tapping on the window and smiling.

His boyfriend sighs, and rolls it down, still looking straight ahead, pouting a little.

“Mista’ driva’,” Angel teases, leaning casually against the car, sticking his head in the window. “Don’ worry bout’ lil’ ol’ me, okay? I’ll be jus’ fine. Now are ya’ really gonna make me go brave this shit show without a kiss?”

Husk groans, looking annoyed. 

“I really—wish you didn’t have to go,” he admits quietly, frowning. Angel’s heart does little flip flops in his chest. 

“I know Whiska’s. But I’ll be back before ya’ know it. An’ in two days, we’ll get ta’ open presents and eat lots a’ food and wear ugly sweaters and drink spiked hot chocolate. Okay?” 

Husk smiles a little at that, and nods, leaning in to give Angel a soft kiss. Even after two months together, kissing Husk still left him breathless and giddy. Angel forces himself to pull away, sighing a little and steeling himself. 

“Can’t be late,” he murmurs, pressing one last quick kiss to Husk’s cheek. “Give Nuggs a walk fa’ me today, would ya’?”

“Course,” Husk says, offering him a small smile and letting go. 

“Angel,” Husk calls after him as he begins to walk away. He pauses just before rounding the corner, and looks over his shoulder. 

“Just…be safe, alright?” Husk says, watching him with such genuine care and worry that it makes Angel’s heart hurt. He smiles. 

“Yessir,” he laughs, giving a little mock salute which makes Husk smile. 

The two finally part ways, Angel taking a breath as he walks up the steps to the studio. He crosses the lobby and gets in the elevator, riding up to the sixth floor. 

When the double doors slide open, Valentino is standing on the other side. It reminds Angel of Alastor’s appearances at home. What is it with overlords and brooding elevator entrances? 

“Hey Val,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. It’s not very hard, given that he really doesn’t give a shit what his boss thinks of him anymore. 

“Where the fuck were you?” Val hisses, wasting no time. Angel breezes past him and walks towards his dressing room. 

“I told ya’ Val,” he says, already tired of this conversation. “I had an allergic reaction. Had ta’ go to the hospital. I sent you the admission form as proof.”

“It says you were discharged Monday morning,” his boss snaps. “Why didn’t you show?”

“I was on mandatory bedrest,” Angel snaps, crossing his arms and glaring. “It says so right on the paperwork. I couldn’t fuckin’ stand on my own, you wouldn’tve wanted me here. I’da just been in the way.”

“Well, you seem fan-fucking-tactic now!” Valentino exclaims, his face turning red with rage. He looks a bit like a toddler having a temper tantrum.

“The medicine works fast,” Angel says pointedly, trying to keep his tone even and calm. Val liked picking fights, liked rallying people up. Angel had learned not to give him the satisfaction. If he realized you weren't going to play his game, he often lost interest. “I’m here now. I’m ready ta’ work, okay? Promise I’ll make up fa’ everythin’ I missed.”

“You can say that again,” Val growls, grabbing Angel by the wrist and marching him down the hallway to his dressing room. Angel resists the urge to roll his eyes as he’s dragged along like a rag doll. He’s borderline tossed into his dressing room, though he manages to stay upright.

“I want you out of make-up and on set in 5 fucking minutes, or I’ll have your pretty head on a platter. Got it?”

“Got it,” Angel forces himself to say through grit teeth. With that, Val storms off, and his make-up team comes scurrying in, having heard the time constraint. Alice is working today and Angel shoots her a grateful smile as she pauses for just a moment to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“You did a pretty good job on your own this morning,” she affirms, taking in Angel’s make-up. “I’ll be quick. Get changed while I get out my kit.”

In a hazardous three minutes, Angel manages to change into his costume for the first shoot while the poor hairdresser does her best to tame his poofy mane at the same time. She does a great job, considering Angel didn’t sit still the entire time. With two minutes to spare, Alice adds some highlight to his cheekbones and lines his lips. 

“You’re done,” she says, closing the compact and giving him one last once over. “How do you feel? Are you really good to be here right now?”

“I’m dynamite,” he assures, flashing her a smile. “S’ just two days a’ shit and then we all get ta’ go home.”

“Amen,” Alice mutters, following him out the door. “You’re on stage six. You come get me if you get into trouble, okay?”

Angel gives her shoulder a grateful squeeze. 

“Back at ya’. You gotta be on camera today?” 

“No,” Alice says, looking relieved. “No, just two client sessions in the afternoon. One’s with that guy who um. You know. Left me…in bad shape last time, I might—need your help after that one, if you have a minute.”

“Ahhh, a real charmer,” Angel says dryly. “Yeah, course. Text me okay?”

As Alice leaves, he’s reminded for the millionth time that no matter how bad it is being Val’s plaything, he’s grateful he isn’t a female sex worker. At least most of his private clients were half-way normal.  Straight men were another breed of psychotic. Lots of them were downright violent with his coworkers; Alice had lost teeth last time. Not that Val cared. Angel wanted to punch someone. 

He settled for clenching and unclenching his fists a few times and forcing himself to breathe. He coughs a little then, the sudden tickle in catching him off guard. A lingering prickle from his reaction remains, and he clears his throat, making his way to the stage. 

Two days, he repeats to himself as he makes his way onto set. Two days.

Angel makes it through day one without a beating. Well. Not from Val, at least. His boss did put him through several incredibly rigorous shoots, many of which were definitely tweaked to punish him for his absence yesterday. Twenty lashes with the whip instead of ten. Blindfold him so he can’t brace. Put the cigarette out on his tongue. And on, and on, each suggestion from his boss a little more sadistic than the last. 

Val finally took a break for dinner, during which Angel chowed down on two granola bars; Husk had started buying them for him and making him keep them in his purse, since Val frequently neglected to feed him. Angel smiles a little as he eats, texting Husk a photo of the granola bar as proof that he is eating. Husk sends back a photo of Fat Nuggets, sitting on his head. Angel grins, feeling little butterflies flutter around in his stomach. 

He’s halfway through his second granola bar when a soft knock comes at the door. He opens it to find Alice, looking…worse for wear. Thankfully all her teeth are still intact, but she’s sporting what looks like a broken nose. 

“Ah, fuck,” Angel says, bringing her inside and sitting her down on his stool while he grabs the first aid kit. “Can’t you just…tell this guy no? Next time he makes an appointment?”

“He calls Val,” Alice says miserably, rolling her eyes, “directly. They’re friends.”

“Well, no surprise there,” Angel mutters, frowning as he cleans up her face. “Shit, I don’t…know how t’ fix this. Are you done for the day? Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

Alice bites her lip. 

“My uh. My insurance got rejected,” she admits. “I can’t…really afford it right now. I’ll see if there’s anyone who knows how to fix—“

“Hold up,” Angel says, pulling out his phone. “Could I…would you let me FaceTime Husk? He’s real good at this kinda stuff, he was in the army. He’ll know how ta’ fix it. I could—see if he’ll walk us through it.”

Alice just shrugs. “Sure. Are we gonna bug him?”

Angel laughs at that. 

“No. He has the whole week off. He is literally sitting at home right now waiting for me to come back.”

Alice smiles a little. 

“That’s cute.”

“I know,” Angel grins, and calls his boyfriend. 

Husk, no surprise, picks up immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” His boyfriend asks right away. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“Relax Whiskers,” Angel says. “I need your medical expertise.”

He flips the camera and shows Husk Alice’s face. His boyfriend winces. 

“Yikes.”

“Fuck you,” Alice says pointedly, rolling her eyes. Angel sighs. 

“Shut up Alice, he ain’t insulting you personally. Do you know how ta’ fix this?” Angel asks Husk. “Could ya’ maybe walk me through what ta’ do? No pressure but uh, I’ve got like. 5 minutes until I gotta go back on set.”

“Shit, okay,” Husk murmurs. “It doesn’t look like it needs to be reset, which is good.” He proceeds to walk Angel through the necessary steps, telling him he can use a nasal strip to help keep it aligned and stop the bleeding. Angel eventually hands the phone to Alice and lets the two of them talk, Husk walking her through how often to ice it, what to do if it won’t stop bleeding, etc. 

Angel sits back, feeling very lucky in the moment. Here’s his boyfriend, helping out someone he barely knows in a pinch, no questions asked. When Alice hands him the phone back and stands to leave, she thanks them both. The poor girl looks worn and exhausted; Angel gives her money for a cab and sends her home. 

“A client did that?” Husk asks incredulously once she’s left the room. Angel sighs and nods, setting his jaw. 

“Yeah. Same jackass knocked some of her teeth out last time.”

“Maybe I should knock his teeth out,” Husk suggests, growling a little. Angel raises his eyebrows, smiling a little. 

“I’ll ask her. She might take you up on that.”

“How are you ?” Husk asks, turning his attention towards Angel now. Angel tries for a smile. The truth is, he’s exhausted. Shaky. Wobbly on his feet. But he’s in one piece and he doesn’t have any major injuries. 

“I’m okay,” he says, offering a small smile. “A little tired. But I should be home soon; I was thinking I’d be here till fuckin’ midnight but he and Vox have some meeting at 7pm. I should be able to sneak outta here.”

“Is he…has he hurt you?” Husk asks quietly. Angel’s chest grows warm at his concern. 

“Nah. Well. Nothin’ too bad anyway. No dislocated shoulders or black eyes. There’s a lot goin’ on today, so he’s been busy. I got lucky.” 

“That’s something at least,” Husk says, angling the camera as Fat Nuggets comes trotting over, sticking his snout up against the phone.

“You hear your dad?” Husk says, huffing a laugh. Angel giggles. 

“Hi sweetie! Who's my favorite little man! Mama will be home soon and—“

“ANGEL!”

Val’s voice echos against the walls of his dressing room, loud as hell, even from this far away. 

“Fuck, gotta go,” he says to Husk, making a little heart with his fingers. They’d started doing that when Angel was at work, instead of saying “I love you.” Angel thought it was a little over cautious, but Husk had pointed out that they never knew who was listening…he didn’t want it getting back to Val that Angel was seeing anyone else. Angel had to agree; that would be a nightmare. 

Husk returns the gesture, and hangs up, never one to make Angel late. Angel scurries to the stage, swishing some water around in his mouth to get the granola out of his teeth. 

“Take your time everyone!” Val is screeching, looking livid as several employees come scurrying in (on time, but on time was late where Val was concerned). “It’s not like I have anywhere to be. Angel! Thank you for finally fucking joining us. Where the FUCK is Vincent?! We’re rolling in 5!”

An assistant scurries over and whispers something in Val’s ear. 

“Sick?” Valentino hisses, shoving the assistant out of the way. “And he just went home?? What kind of operation do you all think I’m running here? WE. DO NOT. DO. SICK DAYS! Have Vox send me someone else, one if his. Fucking, now!

Angel hurries to get into position, running a hand through his hair and letting the PA’s strap him down. He’s getting fucked on a bed of nails today. Classic. He’s done this before; he relaxes his back, letting the surface areas help him avoid puncture wounds, and tries to concentrate on what the director is saying. But he’s having trouble focusing given that he keeps hearing Val’s words from before, over and over in his brain.

Vincent was sick. Vincent. The guy who’d had his tongue down Angel's throat for the past four shoots. Fucking fantastic. Angel had noticed it too; the guy had been sniffling and coughing, claiming it was just allergies. Angel wants to scream. He cannot get sick. Not now! Not after he just got out of the fucking hospital. Not with the holidays right around the corner. 

The director calls action and Angel goes through the motions, trying not to let the pain show as someone twice his size seats themself on his lap and pins his arms above his head. The nails dig into his back, a few just piercing the skin.

“Cut!”

The fuck?! Angel thinks, frustrated. They hadn’t even started.

“This is boring,” Valentino muses. “I’m bored. It needs…a little something extra.”

Angel closes his eyes and grimaces. He knew he wasn’t getting through today without something going wrong. He’d taken off without permission, and Vincent going home had reminded Val of it. And now he was about to pay for it. 

“I want Angel on his knees at the start. Not strapped down.”

“Sir,” Katie pipes up. Angel winces. Be quiet, he thinks. Don’t stick your neck out for me. Naturally, Katie continues. “Sir, he needs the weight distribution that his back provides. His knees won’t provide the same support. And if he he slips—“

“He won’t slip. Will you Angel?”

Angel breathes through his nose.

“I’m game fa’ anything Val, you know that.” He shoots Val a smile, letting the assistants unstrap him and, with ease, hoists himself up onto his knees. 

It’s no picnic, balancing there, but he spreads his legs so that his calf lies flat against the pointy spikes. It’s bearable. 

“Lovely,” Valentino purrs, exhaling smoke. “See everyone, isn’t this better? Much more risqué. Now, Angel, instead of boring old missionary, I want you in kneeling fox, hands and knees on the nails.”

Angel feels himself blanch. He’s usually good at masking his facial expressions but this was…unanticipated. The surface area of his hands was small; the nails would surely pierce them. He knew Val was pissed at him but this was a new low. The room goes dead silent. 

“Well?” Val demands, sounding annoyed. “Get on with it!”

“Look, man, I didn’t sign up for that,” Angel’s new scene partner says, his face mirroring Angel’s own. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you signed up for, you’re mine for the day. Or should I send you back to Vox with several of your limbs missing?”

“Just do it,” Angel hears himself hiss under his breath. His scene partner glances over at him, looking like he’s going to be sick. At least he has a conscience, Angel thinks, unlike so many of the guys that do these shoots with him.

“If you don’t, he’ll come over here and do it himself,” he says to his scene partner in a low whisper, so Val can’t hear. “An’ he’ll fuck me so hard that these things’ll go right through my hands. Just get it over with and sell it so we only hafta’ do one take.”

“We’re not getting any younger over here,” Valentino calls, and Angel can picture the cruel smirk on his stupid face. He grits his teeth and bends over, the nails already digging into his knees and palms. He tries to spread his fingers wide, and braces himself.

“Action!”

Husk’s POV

Husk got a text that Angel was done for the day around 7pm, just as the other man had predicted. He wastes no time getting in the car and speeding over, parking in the same spot as before so he’s hidden from the studio, but close to the entrance. He texts Angel that he’s arrived and bounces his foot against the brake pedal anxiously.

When his boyfriend rounds the corner, donned in his usual attire, walking, breathing, Husk feels himself exhale a sigh of relief. However, as Angel opens the door and slides into the passenger seat, Husk’s worry returns. The poor kid looks fucking spent. Even as he sits, his legs tremble a little, wobbly in his heels, and Husk sees him wince as he climbs in, hissing a little as his back touches the seat behind him. The really worrisome sign is the look Angel wears. It’s a cross between rage and misery, a unique expression that Husk only sees when his boyfriend returns from work. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks instantly, trying to scan Angel for injuries…it’s tough; his boyfriend is mostly covered, his jacket,  thigh high boots and gloves leaving most of his skin unexposed. 

“I don’ wanna talk about it right now,” his boyfriend mumbles, his tone cold and closed off. Angel doesn’t look at him, just slumps his head against the window and stares out. 

Husk doesn’t know what to do.

“I…okay,” he says quietly, and just begins the drive home. He didn’t have to know what was wrong to know his boyfriend probably wanted a shower and Fat Nuggets and the comforts of his own bed. 

Angel doesn’t talk the entire drive, nor does he say anything when they arrive at the hotel. Husk parks the car and they both get out and make their way into the lobby, which is empty. The bar is closed for the week, and everyone else is likely eating dinner or relaxing in their rooms. 

Angel begins to ascend the stairs, dragging his feet along. Husk stays close beside him, but remains silent. He understood what it was like, to just want some quiet after…harder days. 

They are about halfway up the steps when the trembling in Angel’s legs becomes too much, and he teeters a little. Husk is there in an instant, a hand hovering above Angel’s back in case he needs help. His boyfriend instinctively reaches for the railing, gripping onto it to steady himself, but as soon as his hand makes contact with the banister, he lets out a little yelp, and yanks away, losing his footing in the process. Husk rights him with a gentle hand at his side, letting go as soon as Angel regains his balance. 

Husk frowns. 

“Let me see,” he insists, holding out a gentle but demanding hand towards Angel’s gloved one. His boyfriend winces, sighing a little, but doesn’t fight him on it. He lets Husk gently tug off his glove and flip his wrist over, palm up. Underneath, Angel has some blood stained gauze wrapped loosely around his wrist and palm, which Husk gingerly undoes…He can’t help the little growl that escapes him when sees the damage.

Angel’s palm and fingers are covered with puncture wounds. Two of them are alarmingly deep, one near his wrist, the other just below his thumb. Several smaller ones litter his hand like pin pricks. The wounds are all bright red and welling up with blood as soon as the gauze is removed, the layers of skin blistering where they’ve been sliced. It doesn’t look like claws or teeth marks; instead, it’s as if someone took a screwdriver and went apeshit on Angel’s hand. Husk’s throat goes dry for a moment, and he freezes there, staring at it. He finally lifts his head and meets Angel’s eyes. His boyfriend just looks at him with startling apathy, his expression void of any emotion. Husk forces himself to act. 

“Can you move your fingers?” He hears himself say, carefully examining the wounds. Angel doesn’t answer. Just stares at him. 

“It’s important Angel,” Husk says softly but firmly. “We need to make sure there’s no permanent damage to the tendons.”

Angel looks away, his gaze growing hollow and empty. But he tries, wiggling each finger just a little, even as the motions causes him to hiss in pain. 

“Good,” Husk says encouragingly. “That’s good. Let’s try the other one.”

Angel wordless thrusts out his other hand, letting Husk peel his glove off and remove the bloody gauze. This hand is worse; Angel’s middle finger is split open, the nail cracked in two, and there’s a long puncture wound in the center of his palm. But he manages to move each finger again, opening and closing his fist halfway. 

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” Husk murmurs as Angel grimaces. “But the pain is actually a good sign; it would be…worse, if you couldn’t feel or move em’. That means there’s no permanent mobility issues.”

“Great,” Angel says dryly, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes before they become empty and withdrawn again. 

“What was it?” Husk asks softly. 

Angel sets his jaw, tugging his hands away and cradling them close to his chest, not seeming to care that he’s getting blood on his clothes. 

“Nails,” he says flatly, not meeting Husk’s eyes. “I got fucked on a bed of nails.”

Husk fights to swallow his own nausea  upon learning that. 

“Do—Do you have your tetanus shot?” He asks, trying to focus on the issue and not the acidic rage he feels burning a hole in his stomach. 

Angel nods, wordlessly. 

“Okay. No hospital then. Let’s go upstairs and clean you up.”

Angel resumes his ascent without a word, his legs still trembling a little with every step. When they reach his room, Husk hurries to open the door for him, not wanting Angel to try and do anything with his hands. His boyfriend brushes past him wordlessly and goes straight into the bathroom, not bothering Fat Nuggets who is sleeping soundly on Angel’s pillow. 

Husk grabs the first aid kit and follows him inside, shutting the door behind them quietly. He finds Angel slumped on the ledge of the tub, trying with shaky, bleeding hands to unbutton his shirt. His fingers won’t quite bend the way he wants them too, and every little movement looks painful.

“Here, let me,” Husk says quietly, coming to kneel in front. He starts to reach for Angel’s shirt, but stops himself. 

“Can I?” He asks hesitantly. He tried to be extra cautious with touching whenever Angel came home from work, especially on days like today. 

Angel laughs, though it’s hollow and devoid of all joy. 

“S’ not like I have much of a choice,” he says, his tone empty and far away. “Can’t do anything myself, like this.”

Husk winces at that, realizing Angel is right. 

“I’ll be quick,” is all he can offer as he helps his boyfriend take off his jacket, revealing his white undershirt underneath. The back of it is speckled with tiny circles of blood, though these are nothing compared to the piercings on Angel’s hands. 

“Where else?” Husk asks, waiting for instructions. Angel gestures to his legs with a limp wrist, and Husk gently helps him take his boots off, revealing similar bloody impales along his knees and calf. 

Husk sees his boyfriend pointedly look away as Husk removes his shoes, biting his bottom lip. Husk sighs.

Angel never let Husk remove his boots, even during sex, always insisting on doing it himself, being so self conscious about his feet. Now, with Husk being forced to do it for him, he can see the shame and humiliation lingering behind his partner’s closed off expression. Husk imagines Angel cared less about the pain than he did Val taking so much of his autonomy, with injuries like this. 

Husk makes quick work of the cuts on his back and legs, moving onto his hands with careful attention. He pours rubbing alcohol over Angel's hands, quickly followed by water. The other man doesn’t even wince. Doesn’t seem to register it. He just stares straight ahead, blank eyes fixated on the sink, unmoving. 

Husk manages to get through the process without turning into an allergic mess, for which he’s grateful, though he can’t help a few tiny sneezes that slip out as he leans in to put pressure on the wounds. 

“ heh …heh-gtx! gxch! heh-choo!” 

When he turns back, he finds Angel looking at him, his expression still closed off and empty, but there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes. 

“Okay?” He asks softly, instinctively bringing a hand up to brush Husk’s cheek, before regarding the wounds there and thinking better of it.”

“Mhm,” Husk replies, sniffling a little. “I’m gonna wait to bandage them until after you shower okay? Let’s hop in. I’ll…help you wash up.”

Angel just nods, letting Husk help him up and turn on the shower. He helps Angel remove the rest of his clothes and lets him step inside while Husk quickly undresses, joining him a moment later. 

Angel stands there, hands hanging limply at his sides as Husk washes him, doing his best to get all the sweat and oil and blood off. He washes Angel’s hair too, knowing the other man hated when he could still smell the studio on his own pillow. 

Husk finishes everything except in between Angel’s legs. He holds the washcloth in his hands, biting his lip, eyes flicking between the floor and Angel’s abdomen.

“…Do you want me to—“

“ No ,” Angel says forcefully, coming back to himself for a moment. “God, no, just. Gimmie it.”

He takes the washcloth from Husk with shaking hands, hissing a little as soon as it makes contact, touching anything appearing to be incredibly painful. It looks even more painful as Angel begins washing himself, every little movement causing him to let out stifled noises of distress and discomfort.

Husk doesn’t fight him on it though. He knows if he were in Angel’s shoes, there were some things you just…couldn’t stomach having other people do for you.

They get out and dry off. With careful hands, Husk smears neosporin on Angel’s palms and wraps them in gauze. He helps him change. The other man actually manages fairly well on his own, dressing proving to be easier than undressing. Angel manages to pinch his boxers between two fingers and shimmy into them with little difficulty. It’s his pants that give him the trouble, proving a little too heavy to pull up with just two fingers. Husk comes to assist, tugging them on the rest of the way. 

“Was really hoping I wouldn’t need you to do every single fucking thing for me for a change,” his boyfriend says bitterly, not bothering with a shirt as he makes his way over to the bed. 

“I don’t mind,” Husk says quietly, causing Angel to whirl on him rather abruptly, his eyes suddenly filled with anger.

“Maybe I mind!” he snaps, his face flushing red. “Maybe I wanted ta’ be able dress myself on my fucking own. Eva’ think a’ that?”

Husk goes quiet. He doesn’t respond. He knows Angel isn’t actually angry at him, but he can’t think of anything to say that won’t just make the whole situation worse. Angel was entitled to be snappish after shit like this, but Husk had learned that engaging with him didn’t usually solve anything. 

Angel, realizing he’s not going to answer, huffs frustratedly, and stalks over to the bed, throwing himself onto it. He pulls Fat Nuggets in close with his forearms, the little pink oinking excitedly as he wakes to see his owner. Angel’s expression doesn’t change, not even as Nuggs gives him a tiny kiss on the cheek. He lays there on his side, curled in on himself and facing away from Husk. He picks up his phone out of habit, but Husk sees him shudder in pain upon trying to hold it and scroll, and Angel throws the phone onto the ground in frustration, burying his head in his pillow.

Husk isn’t sure what to do. What the fuck could he do, in this situation? 

“Do you…want food?” He asks, as he usually does when Angel returns home. 

“I want fucking Vicodin,” his boyfriend says, his tone icy and harsh. “But I can’t fucking have that, so. God Husk, just. Please leave me alone.”

Husk chews the inside of his cheek, feeling helpless. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, moving towards the door. Before he leaves, he turns back. 

“I’m gonna bring you some IBprofen and real dinner,” he decides. “I’ll come back in an hour. I’ll leave again right after if you want me too, alright?” 

His boyfriend doesn’t respond, just stares wordlessly at the wall. 

Angel’s POV

Angel knew he’d behaved like an ass. As the minutes ticked by and he lay there, staring off into space, he felt the raw anger slowly leaking from his body, leaving nothing but exhaustion in it’s wake. He curled in on himself, pulling Fat Nuggets closer and finally letting himself breakdown, alone, in the safety of his room. He cried for at least half and hour, until his throat was raw and his eyes were swollen and red. Nuggs stayed with him the whole time, burrowing into Angel’s chest and letting Angel get his tears and snot and saliva on him. His pig deserved a raise. 

Slowly, the crying began to ebb, leaving Angel a shuddering, wheezy mess. His lungs still weren’t quite at a hundred percent and unabashed sobbing wasn’t exactly on his recovery checklist. Still, he felt better, afterwards. 

True to his work, Husk returned an hour later on the dot, with a bowl of what Angel thinks is Mac ‘n’ Cheese, based on the smell. He sniffles and hurriedly wiped his cheeks, forcing himself to roll over and face the other man. 

Husk takes in the sight of him, his blotchy face, his red, swollen eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Angel says hoarsely, truly meaning it. 

Husk gives him a small, sad smile.

“I know.”

His boyfriend climbs onto the bed and eases down beside him, laying so that they face each other, their foreheads centimeters from touching.

They lay that way in silence for several minutes, just listening to each other's breathing. 

Angel breaks the silence first. 

“…is that Mac ‘n’ Cheese?” 

Husk smiles.

“Yeah. S’ not Vicodin, but. I got ice cream on deck too.”

Angel hugs him. 

Husk chuckles, pulling him in and holding him close, but keeping his grip loose, gentle, the way Angel prefers after days like this. 

The two sit up and chat quietly while Angel eats dinner, talking about the holidays and what Christmas cookies they were going to make and the fact that Angel had yet to find a gift for Vaggie despite a month of searching. 

Mid-conversation, Angel feels his throat begin to tickle a little. He tries to clear it quietly, swallowing a little and wincing. It’s just from crying , he tells himself. Because he’s not getting sick. He refuses. 

 “Everything okay?” 

Damn. Fuck Husk being able to read his every thought before he thinks it. 

“Yeah,” he says, trying for a reassuring smile. “Sorry, just…a little lost in thought I guess.”

Husk runs a gentle thumb over his cheek. 

“You look tired baby,” he says softly. Angel's heart gives a little flutter at how endearing and sweet his lover is. 

“Yeah,” he says, yawning. “I promise I’ll be…(yawn)…more awake come the weekend.”

“Don’t apologize,” Husk says, smiling at him fondly. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” 

Angel nods, blinking sleepily and nestling himself into Husk’s side. 

“One more day,” he mumbles against Husk’s fur. “An’ then we get ta’…spend Christmas together.”

“Yeah” Husk says, and Angel can feel him smiling, can feel the warm vibration of his low baritone voice. “Fuck, I haven’t spent Christmas with anyone in…since my mom died.”

Angel looks up at him. 

“Really?” He asks quietly.

Husk looks down at him and flushes a little.

“Shit, sorry, I wasn’t…tryna make everything all depressing all the sudden.”

“No,” Angel says softly, sitting up a little. “No, you didn’t. It’s…the opposite, isn’t it? Because…now you do. Have someone, I mean.”

He blushes a little, smiling. Husk returns it, and bends down to give him a kiss, hesitating just before he reaches his lips, waiting for Angel, letting him be the one to decide to close the distance. 

Angel does. 

The kiss is soft, chaste, and Angel feels that mellow warmth spreading through his bones…he wished he’d tried Husk before crack. 

The kiss deepens a little, Angel pulling himself in closer by Husk’s overall straps and parting Husk’s lips with his teeth—

He jerks back suddenly, stopping himself. 

Husk withdraws immediately, looking concerned. 

“I—sorry,” Angel says, shaking his head a little. 

“Don’t apologize. Is—are you okay?”

Angel sucks in a breath. He definitely shouldn’t be kissing Husk right now. Not when Vincent’s tongue had been down his fucking throat. Not that Angel was getting sick. He was not going to get sick. But maybe, just to be safe… he probably shouldn’t be kissing his boyfriend. He couldn’t stomach it if they were both sick for the holidays. Which wasn’t going to happen. Because Angel wasn’t getting sick. So there was no way Husk was going to get sick, neither of them were going to be sick, it was Christmas, their first Christmas together, their first Christmas with anyone, in for-fucking-ever, and it was going to be perfect .

“Alright, I can see smoke coming out of your ears,” Husk chuckles nervously, bringing Angel back. 

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

“Do you…want some space?” Husk asks, removing his arm. “We don’t have to lay like this—“

“No!” Angel says, a little too forcefully. He opens his mouth to assure Husk that that isn’t what this is about…but he hesitates. Maybe it would be better if Angel didn’t get too close to Husk. Not because Angel was worried about getting him sick, because he wasn’t, but…as a precaution. Fuck, this sucked, all he really wanted to be close to his boyfriend tonight, after everything that had happened, but… 

“Actually…yeah,” he says sheepishly, slowly detangling himself from his boyfriend's embrace. “Sorry, just ah…I might sleep on my side tonight. S’ nothing personal—“

“Hey,” Husk cuts him off, offering him a small smile. “I know. Don’t ever apologize. Do you want me to sleep in my room?”

Angel shakes his head, not able to bear the thought of sleeping alone. 

“No,” he says, instinctively reaching to give Husk’s hand a squeeze, then wincing.

“Ah!” He hisses, shaking his hand out, trying to stop the stinging. “Fuck. I forgot.”

Husk looks at him with so much grief it hurts. Angel wishes he didn’t come home like this so often. Wishes he didn’t have to drag his partner into this mess, make him witness it. Fuck his hands, the look on Husk’s face was more painful than any injury he came home with. 

“I’m okay,” he tries. He doesn’t even sound convincing to himself. 

Husk blinks a little, trying to smile back. 

“It’s…okay if you aren't, too,” he replies softly. 

Angel feels his eyes start to water a little and he sniffles.

“Ahhhh,” he heaves, chuckling a little, wiping his eyes. “Damn. I don’ wanna cry anymore today. I…thank you. God, for—everything. You’re everything. I don’t—know how I did this shit, before. Without you.”

Husk blushes a little, stretching his legs out and bringing an arm behind his head in that devilishly attractive way of his. It makes Angel want to fucking pounce on him. Jesus, being sick sucked. Good thing he wasn’t ! he reminds himself. 

“Cocaine? Molly? PCP? Among others,” Husk replies, grinning. Angel snorts. 

“Fuck off , I was trying ta’ be sweet you asshat.”

Husk chuckles. 

“You seemed like you could use a laugh. Sue me.” 

His boyfriend glances down as Fat Nuggets trots over and makes himself at home on his chest, chucking a little and giving him scratches behind his ears. 

“I leave for three seconds and he’s stealing my spot,” Angel pouts, climbing under the covers with a little yawn. Husk smiles, reaching over to turn off the light. 

“It’s free real-estate,” Husk jokes, reaching over and giving Angel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

Angel looks at them longingly, really wanting to close the distance between them, and curl up in Husk’s arms and hold his pet pig. Husk’s wings were splayed right now, something he rarely did, and Angel had the sudden urge to wrap himself in them like a blanket. His boyfriend almost always kept his wings tucked firmly behind his back. He wouldn’t even unfurl them to let Angel touch them during sex…Angel had asked. He was met with a firm No, and his boyfriend had become extremely nervous and flustered, so Angel had dropped it. 

He supposed he couldn’t say shit. He could put on a brazen attitude and pretend to be some fearless sexpert (a term he’d coined himself…Husk was not a fan) but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t even let Husk take his fucking shoes off. 

 Husk catches him staring, and gently picks up Fat Nuggets off his chest. The pig snorts in protest, but quiets as Husk fixes him with a look. 

“Here,” he says softly, handing the little guy over, depositing him in Angel’s lap. 

Nuggs snorts a little at the transfer, but quickly settles in, realizing that one lap is just as good as another. The warmth of his little pig makes Angel give a long exhale, his eyelids suddenly very heavy. 

He feels the covers coming up around his shoulders, Husk tucking him in. The gesture makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy. 

“Sleep kid,” his boyfriend whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Angel replies, forcing his eyes open to give his boyfriend one last grateful smile. “G’night Whiskers.”

“Goodnight Anthony.”

[coolbeans18]

TW: mentions of SA and abuse, but nothing explicit. Pls take care💕 Ty for reading!

Chapter Text

Ch. 12 Happy Holidays (Pt.2)

 

Angel’s POV

When Angel woke the next morning, Husk wasn’t there.

He let out a little whine of protest at his boyfriend's absence, sleepily grabbing Husk’s pillow and pulling it in close, breathing in his smell. 

Which was tougher than it should’ve been.  Angel winced as his body began to awaken, and the tell-tale signs of an encroaching cold became all too evident. His nose was stuffy and his throat was sore, his joints all achy. He groaned, resisting the urge to scream into Husk’s pillow. He fucking knew it. He had the worst immune system known to man, he’d never so much as looked at someone who was ill without catching it himself.

Still, maybe it was just a small cold. Angel got those all the time, and if he could hide them from Val, he could certainly hide them from Husk. 

He sat up, determined, and reached for some DayQuil and his phone. 

Slight pain in his hands makes him wince, and he gingerly peaks beneath his bandages. Most of his wounds have already healed, the remaining ones scabbed over and beginning to vanish as well. Husk had done a good job.

He takes his some medicine and opens his phone to see a text from Husk. 

Downstairs—making breakfast 4 u

Angel smiles. How the hell did I land him? He wonders, climbing out of bed and stretching his legs. Fat Nuggets is still asleep at the foot of the bed, and Angel gives him the tiniest kiss on the forehead so as not to wake him. 

He tries to dress quickly, wanting to eat with Husk before he has to go to work. He starts on his makeup, and is powdering his nose when it begins to tickle, the sensation of the brush making his breath hitch.

“ hehh…ohhh f hh uck,” he groans, putting down the brush and scrubbing at his nose with his wrist, desperately trying not to sneeze. 

“ hehh…ehhh? sniff.” The tickle slowly recedes, and Angel takes a shaky breath, not wanting to risk it flaring to life again. He is not going to sneeze. This is going to be the smallest, most insignificant cold ever, he decides firmly. It’s not going to get in the way of the holiday, of his rare time off, of his time with his friends, of his time with Husk. 

He opts to skip doing his nose with powder, and just uses some concealer instead. He takes a lozenge too, letting it soothe the encroaching prickle in his throat. He doesn’t want to risk coughing or sneezing during breakfast. Nothing good would come from Husk catching on and realizing he was a tad under the weather. The other man would just worry, and possibly make him stay home, which would ultimately result in Valentino storming over here and making everyone’s lives miserable. Angel wasn’t having that. He would go in, do his job, then come home and get a long night's rest and wake up right as rain on Christmas Eve. He was not going to make Husk miss out on the holidays because he was stuck taking care of Angel. They’d both been through so much shit lately…they needed this break, where they were together and happy and healthy. 

Angel made his way downstairs, his resolve firm and unwavering. When he reaches the kitchen he sees Husk, spooning some strawberries onto a plate, having already made him some toast and Chai. 

“Morning,” his boyfriend says, smiling, and Angel returns it. 

“You didn’t need ta’…get up so early an’ do this,” he says, blushing a little. 

Husk waves him off. 

“Nah, s’ no big deal. Not like I'm doing’ anything today. Sides’, you…had a rough night last night. I wanted t’ do something nice for ya’.”

Angel comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s lovely,” he whispers in Husk’s ear, making the other man smile. “Thank you.”

They sit down to eat and chat about the long weekend ahead. Angel had been excited about breakfast with Husk, but he becomes a little less excited when Husk decides to sit right down beside him, their elbows touching. He realizes that he…probably shouldn’t be this close to the other man. Just until he’s over this tiny cold. There’s also the fact that the longer Angel sits there beside Husk, the more increased chance there is of him noticing something is off. One sniffle could give it away where Husk was concerned, with his stupid good hearing and annoying, adorable, attentive nature. Angel tries to eat somewhat quickly. He finishes up and is collecting his things when Husk leans in for a kiss. As his boyfriend moves in, Angel quickly turns his head so the other man’s lips land on his cheek instead. Husk tilts his head a little in surprise, giving him a funny look.

“Are you alright?” he asks. Angel bites his cheek. 

“Yeah, I am, sorry. I guess I’m still kind of…a little on edge, after yesterday,” he lies.

Husk frowns, looking equal part sad and angry. 

“You know, you don’t have to go in today Angel, after what happened. If you need a break from that place—“

“No, I wanna go in,” Angel quickly tries to amend. If he’s at work, he won’t be here, potentially giving his cold to Husk.

“I need the money for the holidays anyway. An’ I don’t want Val comin’ here and makin’ a scene while you all are supposed to be on vacation. But ya’ real sweet. For thinkin’ of me.”

Husk frowns, but leaves it be, nodding. 

“Just promise me you’ll call if you need something?”

Angel smiles and nods, giving him a peck on the forehead. 

“Will do. You ready?”

Husk nods, clearing both their plates and grabbing the car keys. As they head out the door, he tosses them to Angel, who’s scrambles to catch them, looking at Husk questioningly. 

“How bout’ you take us down the driveway and down the hill? We’ll switch before we get on the road.”

Angel’s eyes light up.

“Really?”

Husk chuckles fondly at him. 

“Sure. Don’t tell Charlie though. She’d have a heart attack if she knew I was lettin’ ya’ drive her Dad’s pretty car.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t. Let’s go!”

He runs to the car a bit like a child, Husk following behind and laughing. 

Angel gets behind the wheel and Husk slides into the passenger seat, smiling at Angel’s giddy expression. 

“Okay, put the keys in the ignition and start her up.”

“I know what ta’ do,” Angel says defensively. “I’ve been ina car before.”

Husk raises his hand in mock defense, chuckling. 

“Alright, alright. Just, super easy on the gas okay? Go nice and slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Angel says, starting up the car. He does as Husk says, carefully easing into the gas pedal. The car lurches forward, and Angel immediately releases his foot, a little surprised. 

“I told ya’, it’s gonna go faster than you think,” Husk chuckles. “Try again. Gentle.”

Angel does as he’s told, being even more tentative than before. Slowly, the car eases forward, starting down the driveway. 

“Good,” Husk says, smiling. “Now play with the wheel a little, while we’re in the driveway. Get a feel for it.”

Angel steers a bit, left, then right, before straightening out again, the car a little wobbly, but otherwise he’s doing okay. He eases down the driveway, through the gates and down the hill, going slightly faster as he gets more comfortable. He feels kind of giddy, like a teenager. 

“Okay,” he says, “it’s not as fun as Mario Kart, but. This is pretty cool. And I’m a natural. Naturally.”

Husk laughs, one of those real, wholesome laughs that make Angel weak in his damn knees. Damn, he’s so in love with this man. 

They reach the bottom of the hill and Husk shows him how to put the car in park, hopping out and swapping sides with him. 

“Maybe I’ll take ya’ to some empty parking lot this weekend,” Husk says, pulling onto the road. “That’s how my mom taught me.”

Angel smiles a little. Husk rarely talked about his mom. And when he did, it was usually laced with sadness. Angel liked getting to hear the good memories Husk had of her, in the rare moments he chose to share them. 

“Yeah?” He asks softly, admiring the way the morning light reflects on his boyfriend's face. He watches Husk as smiles, remembering.

“Yeah, we had this super old 1934 Chrysler. It was such a piece of shit, it was my dad’s old car. The fucking bumper was bein’ held on there with duck tape cuz’ we couldn’t afford t’ fix it.” 

He laughs a little, shaking his head. 

“She was…genuinely the worst teacher alive, when I finally got on the road she  basically panic-yelled at me the whole time, she gave shit instructions, and we just ended up screaming at each other. But ah, I got my license, eventually, just in time for prom. She worked the night shift on Friday’s and she actually took the night off so she could loan me the car, let me pick my date up in that shitty thing and feel like an adult.”

Angel grins. 

“Neva’, in a million years woulda’ thought you’da gone to prom. Who’d you go with?”

Husk rolls his eyes, smiling. 

“Imani Pierce. She sat next to me in algebra and she let me cheat off her. We slow danced an’ everything, it was nice.”

Angel giggles, picturing Husk in a little pastel suit and bow tie.

“Did you guys do it in the car, afterwards?”

Husk laughs. 

“ No . No, I think 17 year old Husk would’ve fucking combusted before she even got her bra off.”

Angel snorts, shooting him a fond glance. 

“I think 17 year old Anthony woulda’ eaten you alive.”

“Well, current Anthony does eat me alive, so. Not much difference there.”

That makes Angel laugh, loudly, but he accidentally coughs a little at the end. It’s barely noticeable, but he sees Husk’s ears twitch slightly, and winces internally. Thankfully, his boyfriend doesn’t say anything. 

“What about you?” Husk asks, pulling into the main part of the city. “Did you go to prom?”

Angel snorts. 

“No. I think on prom night I was…running a duffle bag full of fake cash all the way across the fuckin’ city so my dad wouldn’t get fuckin’ shot. I remember, cuz my sista’ was goin’ with this jerk I couldn’t stand, and I wanted ta’ go with em’ and chaperon, but I got stuck on the job instead.”

Husk glances over at him, smiling. 

“Did your sister have a good time, at least?”

Angel shrugs, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, she was real pretty an’ had a swell time. Till’ he dumped her two fuckin’ weeks later and Aracknis an’ I beat him to a pulp behind the gym.”

Husk looks at him, eyebrows raised.

“Aracknis?”

Angel flushes a little. He realizes he hasn’t ever told Husk his siblings names. 

“My brother,” he clarifies. “Older. He was kind of a prick. But we both loved Molly. She’s…my twin sista’.”

Husk glances over at him and gives him a little smile. 

“Didn’t know you had a twin. That’s cool.”

Angel looks out the window and smiles fondly, remembering Molly’s face. 

“Yeah. She was…the best. Way betta’ than me anyway. Super kind and sweet and just…nice, ya’ know? Ta’ everyone, for no fuckin’ reason. Used ta’ annoy the bejesus outta’ me. S’ prolly why she’s up there an’ I’m…down here.”

He hears his own voice grow sad all of the sudden, and bites his lip. Now he remembers why he never talks about his family. He isn’t trying to make himself all depressed before work.

“I’m…sorry,” Husk says quietly, his voice sad. “My mom, she’s…up there too, I think. Fuckin’ sucks.”

“Yeah,” Angel says quietly, watching the city flicker by. “It does.”

They ride in silence the rest of the way; it’s only another two minutes before they pull up around the corner from the studio.

“Thanks fa’ the ride Whiska’s,” Angel says, trying to smile. “Text ya’ when I’m out.”

Husk puts a hand on his wrist before he can get out. 

“Angel,” he says, drawing him back in a bit.     “…Thank you. For telling me that stuff. About your sister, your family. I’m…sorry if it made you sad, before work. Wasn’t my intention.”

Angel smiles a little, a small but sincere one.

“Ain’t anythin’ you did,” he says. “I wanted ta’ tell you. An’ ditto. I like…hearin’ about your mom, prom, that sorta stuff. We should…talk about that kinda stuff more, yeah? From when we was alive. Even if it’s…kinda sad sometimes. I wanna know you. Every part.”

Husk looks at him then with the purest expression on his face, full of wonder and adoration and love. It makes Angel’s throat close up. 

“Yeah,” his boyfriend agrees, giving his forearm a gentle squeeze. “We should. We will. Promise. But ah, hurry up, before you’re late.”

Angel forces himself to swallow, clearing his throat a little, noting with mild annoyance that it hurts to do so.

“Okay. Love ya’. See you soon.”

“Love ya’ Legs,” Husk says, smiling. “Take care a’ yourself. Last day, yeah?”

Angel nods, unable to keep himself from grinning. Last fucking day, then they’d both get a much needed break. He gives Husk one last kiss on the cheek and gets out, heading around the corner and up the steps to the tower. 

One more day. He could do this. 

Husk’s POV

It was late. Angel’s last text had been at 7pm, saying that he likely wouldn’t get off for another hour. That hour came and went and now Husk was starting to get anxious. He and Charlie were in his room, wrapping Christmas presents, keeping their gifts hidden from the others. He’d been letting Charlie store her gifts for Vaggie in here; the Princess was convinced that her girlfriend would peak if she left them in their shared closet. His friend notices him anxiously checking his phone. 

“He’ll text when he’s done Husk,” Charlie assures him, offering a small smile. “Are we honestly surprised that Val is keeping him there late the last night before vacation?”

Husk sighs. 

“No. I jus’ don’ like not knowing.”

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. And if he isn’t, we’ll handle it. We always do.”

Husk shoots her a grateful smile. 

“How’re we supposed t’ wrap a vacuum cleaner?” Husk frowns, examining the new one they’d bought for Nifty. Their old one sucked, and Charlie had been promising her a new one for over a year. The Princess squints at the thing, thinking. 

“Maybe we just say fuck it and put a really big bow on top. We can hide it in the supply closet downstairs and just like. Ask her to grab a washcloth or something and then Ta-Da! She opens it and finds it.”

Husk smiles. “She’s gonna freak. Hey, by the way, I’m s’pposed to ask you if there’s anything Vaggie wants that you didn’t buy for her already. Angel doesn’t have a fuckin’ clue what to get her, she’s the last one on his list.”

“Let me look.” 

Husk watches as Charlie takes out her phone and opens a fucking ‘Christmas Gifts’ SpreadSheet. He resists the urge to laugh. 

“Oh, she was looking at these sneakers like, four months ago,” Charlie says, showing him. “She went back and forth on what color to get for a week and then just didn’t get them because she couldn’t decide. Maybe if Angel just picks the color for her she’ll finally be satisfied.” 

Husk chuckles. “Alright cool. I’m sure he has…very strong opinions about which color she should get anyway.”

They are almost done when Husk’s phone buzzes. It’s from Angel. 

b done in 15

Husk hops up immediately, starting for the door, before pausing briefly, turning back to Charlie. 

“Hey he’s done, do you mind uh…”

“Go,” Charlie shoos, smiling. “I’ll finish and clean all this up. Go to his room when you guys come home though, just in case I’m still finishing up.”

Husk shoots her a grateful smile and slips out the door. He heads downstairs and grabs his and Angel’s raincoats before heading out; it’s fucking pouring, and Husk winces thinking about what a long day Angel’s had, and now he has to deal with a thunderstorm on top of it all. There was always the chance it turned into snow though; Angel had really been rooting for it to snow on Christmas.

He sprints across the driveway and makes it to the car, only getting a little damp. He manages to make it over to the studio in under ten minutes, definitely engaging in some reckless driving, but who cares, he was picking Angel up and taking him home and they were about to get five whole days off together. Husk feels himself grinning like an idiot. 

He pulls up in his usual spot right around the corner from the studio and lets Angel know he’s here. A moment later, his boyfriend comes running around the corner, trying his best to get out of the rain. Husk leans over to push the door open for him so he can quickly slide into the passenger side. Angel ducks in and all but collapses into the seat, breathless and soaking wet and shivering. But he’s grinning. 

“Hi,” he says, looking at Husk with a goofy smile on his face. 

“Hi,” Husk replies, knowing his expression mirrors it. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Angel huffs at little, still smiling. “I k-know,” he laughs, teeth chattering a little. “Forgot my r-raincoat.”

Husk smiles a little and reaches into the backseat, grabbing Angel’s pink raincoat and showing it to him. 

“Who coulda’ guessed?” He smirks, and Angel flushes a little, smiling gratefully.

“You’re sweet.”

“Eh. I know you too well. Little late for it now though.”

Angel huffs a laugh. “At least I won’t hafta’ g-get drenched a s-second time when we get o-out.”

His voice is still shaking a little with chills. Is it Husk’s imagination or does it also sound a little…hoarse? Husk cranks up the heat on full blast, and Angel lets out a little hum of relief, bringing up his hands to warm them by the vent. 

His eyes flutter closed suddenly, and he gives a sharp waivering inhale, his shoulders tensing up. Husk glances over, senses perking up. It looks like he’s about too…

But the expression leaves just as quickly as it came, Angel blinking a little and giving a tiny shake of his head. Husk forces himself to look away, not wanting to be weird. Still, it was hard not to steal glances at the other man as they pulled out onto the road. His boyfriend was looking a little…peaky.

“Hey are you…okay?” Husk can’t help himself from asking.

Angel stiffens just a little, his eyes flicking towards Husk. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, just…kinda tired. Long day.” He grimaces as he says this, looking away. Husk bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

Angel huffs a little, crossing his arms and closing in on himself a little. 

“Nothin’ new. He just…wanted a piece a’ me, afta’ we was done shooting. Ya’ know, fore’ he leaves for the next few days. Jus’…bein’ his usual asshole self.”

Husk clenches his teeth, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. 

“S’ ova’ now though,” Angel adds quickly, trying for a small smile. “An’ now I get 5 whole days with my favorite person. I can’t wait ta’ spend the holidays with ya’ Whiskers, s’ gonna be great.”

Husk smiles at that. 

“Hell yeah it is.”

They chat idly on the ride home. As they get closer, Husk can’t help but notice that Angel is sniffling a little. However, the other man seems to be going to great pains to keep it hidden, looking away and subtly bringing two delicate fingers to his nose every time it happens, as if trying to minimize the sound. Even though he’s facing away, Husk can see Angel’s reflection in the window. It gives Husk butterflies, both due to the sheer adorableness of it, and the growing concern in his chest. He opts not to mention it…for now. Being cold always made Angel a little sniffly, something Husk found so endearing it hurt. He’d get the other man home and into a warm bath soon enough. 

“Hey, I invited Alice and Katie to come for Christmas dinner,” Angel says suddenly, his voice slightly hoarse and congested. He clears his throat a little, peeling off his wet gloves. 

“Yeah?” Husk asks.

“Mhm,” Angel hums, laying his gloves over the air vent to dry. “Do you think Charlie’d be okay with that? They both just…don’t really have family to spend the holiday with. I figured…”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Husk says, smiling. “I’m sure Charlie will love it. She’s gonna freak the fuck out and want to get them last minute gifts though.”

Angel chuckles at that, and Husk doesn’t miss the fact that it ends in a small cough. He grips the steering wheel a little tighter and forces himself not to say anything. 

“Yeah, probably,” Angel says, subtly trying to clear his throat. Husk glances at him. His boyfriend is looking distinctly worse for wear as the drive goes on. His face is now downright pale, and Husk doesn’t miss the occasional chill that runs down his spine. As they pull into the driveway, thunder sounds, sudden and loud, and Angel winces, curling in on himself a little. 

“M’ sorry,” Husk murmurs softly, reaching over and giving his boyfriend's leg a tiny squeeze. Angel glances at him with a sheepish smile. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, laughing nervously. “I…can’t help it, it feels like there’s a fuckin’ Metallica concert happening inside my body.”

Husk laughs a little at that. 

“Don’t apologize, I get it. Don’t let Nifty hear you say that though. I think she’d kidnap all of those guys and make them live inside her ribcage if she could.”

Angel chuckles, unbuckling his seat belt as they park. Husk pulls as close to the entrance as possible, not wanting to make his boyfriend walk in the rain any longer than he possibly had to. Angel starts to get out and Husk stops him with a hand on his wrist, pointedly handing him his raincoat. 

“Put that on,” he insists, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, it’s literally IN your lap and you can’t remember it.”

Angel laughs. 

“It’s two feet to the front door,” he points out, but shrugs the jacket on, giving Husk’s hand a grateful squeeze.

They get out and hurry up the front steps, stomping their feet on the mat outside before entering. Husk holds the door for Angel, making him flush a little. Husk rolls his eyes. He can’t believe that after two months, tiny little gestures like that still turn his boyfriend into a blushing teenager.

Charlie greets them in the lobby…she’s standing behind the bar, to Husk’s surprise, making drinks. 

“Husk, Angel!” She exclaims excitedly, waving them over. “Come here, I have a surprise!”

The two make their way over, Angel sliding into his usual stool beside Vaggie and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to be behind my bar,” Husk says pointedly, eyebrows raised, though he’s smiling.

Charlie grins sheepishly. 

“Come on, I wanted to do something nice for you guys. Angel’s off work, it's officially the holidays! We should celebrate.”

“I didn’t realize the holidays were contingent on my work schedule,” Angel snorts. 

“Fuck off, you know what she means,” Vaggie says, poking his arm. “We’re all here together now. She made drinks for us.”

“What did you make?” Husk asks warily, coming to sit on the other side of Vaggie reluctantly.

Charlie laughs.

“Relax Husk, it’s just mulled wine, I didn’t try to make a cocktail or anything, I know my limits.”

Husk gives a little sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could fake enjoying a cocktail made by Charlie.

The Princess hands the two men mugs of warm Christmas wine and holds up her own.

“Cheers!” She says, clicking their mugs together. They start to bring the drinks to their lips before Husk suddenly reaches across the bar and snags Angel’s wrist. 

“The fuck?” Vaggie whines, nearly spilling her drink as Husk reaches across her lap. 

“Hold on, lemme check the label,” Husk demands, reaching over the bar top for the wine.

“I already checked it against the list you gave me,” Charlie says softly, smiling. “It’s okay.”

Husk checks the label anyway, but gives her a nod of thanks when he sees that it is, in fact, safe for Angel to consume.

Angel frowns. 

“What fuckin’ list?”

“A list of all the shit you're allergic to,” Husk says pointedly. “I’m making sure everyone who cooks around here has it.”

Angel scowls at him and Charlie. 

“What the fuck? I’m not a fuckin’ child.”

“We don’t think that,” Charlie assures. 

“Yes, we do,” Husk and Vaggie say at the same time. 

Angel scowls at them both. 

“Don’t look at us like that!” Vaggie says, chuckling with disbelief. “You were fully about to drink that without checking what was in it. It’s Christmas wine for Christ’s sake, it could’ve had peppermint or ginger, easily.”

Angel frowns.

“Whatever. Can we please just get drunk and stop chastising me?”

“Cheers!” Charlie says again, clinking mugs with Angel and who smiles at her and ruffles her hair. 

The four of them chatter for a bit, talking about all the fun things Charlie has planned. They’re having a gingerbread building contest tomorrow and Vaggie reveals that Charlie has fucking blueprints for her’s, drawn up on her iPad.

“I want to be prepared!” Charlie says defensively as the rest of them cackle. “You’ll all be sorry when I fucking win.”

“I don’t know,” Husk says, “Alastor seems pretty confident. He’s like…weirdly good at that kinda shit.”

Vaggie blinks at him. 

“The more you tell me about this guy, the further I get from understanding him. What a fucking enigma.”

Husk just shrugs. He’d been trying to “understand” Alastor for 30 years. He’d kind of given up at this point. 

They continue talking, but Husk notices Angel is starting to look…a little under the weather. His frame wilts, a bit like a dying flower, and he’s blinking sleepily. He also can’t quite seem to shake the chill from the rain; Husk detects slight tremors from his boyfriend every now and then, though it’s clear Angel is trying to hide it. 

“I’m fuckin’ beat,” Husk announces, setting his mug behind the counter and standing up, rolling his shoulders. He glances at Angel, offering a smile. 

“You comin’ or stayin’?”

“I’ll come,” his boyfriend says a little too quickly, and Husk has to resist the urge to smirk. He was learning that the best way to get Angel to do something was to let him think it was his idea. If his boyfriend was too drunk or too tired, Husk would often say he was ready to turn in for the night and Angel almost always tagged along. 

The two bid their friends goodnight and ascended the stairs, hand in hand. Angel swings their joined arms lazily, looking happy, albeit worn out. Still, the white parlor of his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes…they don’t escape Husk’s notice. He bites his tongue and opts not to say anything. Maybe Angel really was just tired after a long day. He could wake up fine in the morning, and then Husk would’ve instigated what would surely turn into an argument about the other man’s health, for nothing. 

Angel moves to enter his room but Husk stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Hold on, your pig is in my room. Charlie an’ I were wrapping presents in there today.”

Angel smiles, and hurriedly moves down the hall to Husk’s room. He enters and is met with excited snorts as Fat Nuggets scuttles around the room with joy.

“Merry Christmas baby,” Angel coos, scooping up his pet and hugging him close, talking nonsense to him. Husks heart does it’s own little gymnastics routine, watching his boyfriend love on his pet. 

“We’re you a good boy for Husky today?” Angel asks in a sing-song voice. “Did you get to play Santa’s little helper?”

“He ran around and got himself tangled in Charlie’s ribbons and then napped the rest of the time,” Husk snorts, giving Nuggs, then Angel, a tiny kiss on the forehead. 

“Good job buddy,” Angel affirms, grinning and booping Nuggs nose before setting him down and letting out a little yawn. Husk doesn’t miss the tiny shiver that follows.

“Do you uh, maybe wanna get in the bath?” Husk asks, trying to sound casual. Angel glances at him, looking suddenly very tired.

“Yeah, that sounds…really nice,” he concedes, offering Husk a small smile which Husk returns. He heads into the bathroom to fill up the tub, adding some of the Chamomile bath salt they both liked. Angel had spent an hour in the store one weekend finding it; he used to use rose, but had given it up when the scent made Husk sneeze like crazy. And scents like lavender and eucalyptus were also out of the question for Angel himself. So Chamomile it was.

Angel strolls into the bathroom fully nude, and Husk quickly averts his eyes, cheeks flushing, before he remembers that they’re dating and he’s allowed to look.

Angel notices and laughs at him, coming up behind Husk and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Your turn,” he says softly, guiding Husk’s overall straps off of his shoulders. Husk glances over his shoulder.

“Am I joining you?” He chuckles, raising a questioning eyebrow. They’d taken plenty of showers together, but never a bath.

“Mhm,” Angel affirms, not leaving any room for debate. Not that Husk is complaining. He takes off his own clothes and lowers himself into the water, and Angel, as though they’ve done this a thousand times, eases himself in right between Husk’s legs, leaning back on his chest with a contented sigh. 

“We…should do this more often,” his boyfriend mumbles, his head lolling to the side and resting on Husk’s shoulder. Husk hums in agreement, unable to stop the low purring his body begins emitting at the warmth of the water and his lover's closeness. It used to embarrass him. He doesn’t mind so much anymore. 

Husk cards his fingers through Angel’s hair, relishing the way his boyfriend lets out a long, relaxed exhale…that ends in a cough.

Husk feels Angel stiffen a little, and his own brown furrows in concern. 

“Hey are you—“

“I’m fine,” Angel cuts in, a little too quickly. His voice is a little rough and uneven and he hurries to clear his throat, mumbling an apology. 

“You don’ need to say sorry,” Husk says softly, resuming carding his fingers through Angel’s hard while also trying to subtly feel the other man’s forehead. Angel’s temperature seems normal, but Husk finds himself struggling to ignore the various signs and symptoms that are piling up. 

“Angie, are you… sure you feel okay?” He asks quietly.

In his lap, he feels his boyfriend tense. 

“I feel fine,” he replies stiffly, in a clipped tone that tells Husk that was the wrong thing to say. “S’ just from being out in the rain, I’ll be fine once I’m warmed up.”

Husk frowns, noting the very warm water they’ve been lounging in for the past several minutes, but let’s it go. 

They sit in silence, Angel relaxing against Husk’s chest once more and lacing their fingers together, drawing lazy circles in the water with his fingers. With his head tilted to the right just so, Husk watches as Angel’s collarbone gently rises and falls with his breathing. He resembles an actual angel, laying here like this, his eyes lidded, his long neck ethereal and exposed. Without really meaning too, Husk finds himself trailing soft, butterfly kisses along the curve of Angel’s neck, from his shoulder to his collarbone to the hollow of his throat and finally up along his jaw and towards his lips—

Suddenly, Angel stiffens, and pulls away slightly. Husk stops immediately, gazing at the other man worriedly.

“Sorry,” Angel says softly, his eyes flitting around a bit nervously. “Jus’ maybe um. Not right now. Not after…Val.”

Husk nods in understanding, wincing apologetically.

“I should’ve asked first. S’ my bad.”

“No, it um. It felt nice,” Angel admits, flushing a little and giving Husk that knee weakening shy smile. “Just maybe no uh. No lips. Okay?”

Husk nods, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

“Course. Whatever you want.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Husk tries to ignore the way Angel continues shivering, even while wrapped in Husk’s body heat and the hot water. Suddenly, his boyfriend’s breath hitches. Just barley, but Husk’s ears pick it up, and he glances down to see Angel’s shoulders tense as he fights to keep his eyes from fluttering closed.

“ ehhh…hehh….snifff…”

The little hitching breaths are so tiny, as if his boyfriend is fighting to keep them as quiet as possible. He’s unbelievably adorable right now, fighting to stave off the ticklish sensation, his chest rising and falling just slightly, it’s rhythm erratic. It also looks…quite uncomfortable.

“Sneeze, Angel,” Husk says softly. “I know you need to.”

Angel the stubborn idiot, actually shakes his head a little. 

“N- nuuhh …n-no, I…” He trails off, trying to talk pushing him over the edge as his eyes flutter closed and he gives a shuddering inhale. Husk gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“ehhhtchuh! ahh…ahhh …ahhtchu! chx! chx! Ugh, sniff , sorry.” 

He manages to stifle the last two in his wrist, jerking forward in Husk’s arms. The other man frowns. 

“Don’ apologize. Angie, are you sure—“

“S’ just from the rain, I swear,” Angel cuts him off, his voice hoarse, sniffling a little. “You know I always…sneeze whenever I’m cold.”

Husk flushes a little at that reminder, but continues frowning. 

“Yeah, but sweetie, we’ve been in the bath for like, half an hour. You shouldn’t still be cold.”

“I said I’m fine, Husk,” Angel snaps, tone suddenly short and defensive. “Jesus, can y’ just leave it alone?” 

Husk goes quiet, biting the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t want to push, but he also wants to get his boyfriend medicine, if he needs it. He sits there in silence, debating. 

Angel sits up all of the sudden. 

“I’m gonna get out,” he says, his voice a little cold and clipped. He stands, and Husk doesn’t miss the way his legs are trembling slightly. 

“Alright,” he agrees, standing up and draining the tub, keeping a wary eye on Angel as the other man steps out of the tub shakily, drying himself off.

“You don’t need to hover,” Angel snaps, drying off and frustratedly chucking his towel in the hamper before stalking out of the bathroom. 

Husk blinks after him. 

He stands there for a moment, staring after Angel, before following him out into the bedroom. The two of them change in silence, and Husk squirms. The tension is tangible. What is going on ? He finishes changing and watches as Angel struggles with some buttons on his nightshirt, his fingers shaking a little as he tries to button them. He’s sniffling now, though trying to keep it discreet, and Husk can’t stand the sight of him there, trembling like a goddamn leaf, struggling with such a basic task. 

“Here,” he says, stepping forward, “let me—“

Angel steps back, glaring at him. 

“Christ Husk, I don’t want your help! Can’t you take a fuckin’ a hint? Give it a rest for one goddamn second!”

Husk clenches his fists at his sides and tries to breathe. Something is clearly off. He knows he should approach this delicately, should think through his options and try to discern what’s going on—

“I think…I’m going to sleep in my room tonight.”

Angel’s voice is icy and reserved, and any semblance of rational patience and calculated thought Husk may have possessed goes out the window. 

“Alright, what the fuck?” he snaps, crossing his arms and growling a little. “What the hell s’ goin’ on? An’ don’t bullshit me, one minute everything was fine an’ the next you’re bein’ a fuckin’ prick ta’ me for no goddamn reason. What’s wrong? Did something happen at work or—“

“No! Nothing fuckin’ happened at work, just the usual bullshit—“

“Well something's clearly wrong! You don’t get to be an ass and then just storm off t’ your room, say you’re sleepin’ by yourself—“

“What, I can’t sleep by myself? Can’t I have some fuckin’ space when I need it? Is that not okay?” Angel’s voice waivers a little bit, becoming breathless, starting to crack and break. Husk is too angry to pay it much heed.

“You can always have space when you need it, you knowthat ain’t what I meant!”

“Well then enlighten me, what do you mean?”

“I mean, you can’t just get pissy outta nowhere, say you’re sleepin’ separate, an’ not gimme ANY explanation why!”

“I didn’t realize I needed to justify wanting to sleep apart!”

“Jesus Christ Angel, you’re fuckin’ twisting my words an’ you know it, we ain’t gonna have a fight an’ then storm off to seperate rooms without resolving it first, specially’ when I don’ even know what the hell we’re fighting about!”

“Well we wouldn’t be fucking fighting if you’d jus’ let me go t’ my o-own…m-my…f hh uck, I’m—ihhhshu! shu! mm-chm! mm-chx! chx! chx!” 

Angel breaks off coughing after the stifled fit, and Husk comes to his side instantly, cursing. He takes Angel’s arm and guides him over to the bed as the poor kid continues hacking up a lung, unable to get a breath. When he finally stops, he gasps for air, his whole frame trembling as he lets his head drop towards his chest and fists his hands in his hair. 

“Fuck kid,” Husk whispers, looking on with concern. Angel’s face is white as a sheet, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his brow. His breathing is labored, his lungs rattling a little bit as he tries to catch his breath, and he’s shaking with chills that wrack his entire frame. Husk wants to strangle himself for pretending not to see it before. Now that Angel wasn’t trying to hide it, it was evident he was very ill. Husk tries to meet his boyfriend's eyes, and is startled to discover the other man is crying. 

“I’m sick,” Angel croaks, letting out a strangled little sob and dropping his head in exhaustion. Husk’s heart feels like someone is using it as a punching bag. 

“Yeah…I know,” he says lamley, placing a tentative hand on Angel’s back. 

Angel actually laughs at that, though it’s dry and forced. 

“Fuck Husk,” he rasps, putting his head in his hands, looking utterly defeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Husk says, scrambling to come sit in front of his boyfriend, on his knees, so he can meet his gaze. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have pushed, I didn’t realize—“

“No,” Angel cuts him off, his voice cracking. “I don’t mean—not for jus’ now. I mean, I am sorry for bein’ a dick just now, but I…” 

He trails off, his voice breaking a little and sniffles, scrubbing at his eyes. Husk puts a gentle hand on his knee, wishing he knew what to do. 

“I’m so sorry for getting sick,” Angel finally concludes, miserably. “You were…so excited to spend the holidays together, an’ I literally just got outta the fucking hospital, an’ we had all these plans that I didn’t wanna ruin—“

“Hey, no!” Husk interjects, shushing the other man as Angel breaks off crying again, burying his head in his hand. Husk wraps his wings around his boyfriend and pulls him into a hug. Angel slumps against him, his energy spent from yelling, and cries into Husk’s shoulder.

“You didn’t ruin anything Angel,” Husk says softly into the other man’s hair, holding him close and rubbing his back. “This is not your fault, do you understand? God, I’m so sorry you got sick so soon after getting out of the hospital baby, but you ain’t ruining any plans.” He pulls back and meets Angel’s eyes, looking at him firmly. “We are still gonna have a great fucking holiday, okay? I know how much you were looking forward to it and we’re gonna do everything we can to make sure you can still enjoy it, alright?”

Angel sniffles a little, scrubbing at his eyes. 

“I just…I don’ want you missing out on shit if I ain’t feelin’ well enough t’ do it, y’ know?” Angel says, voice wavering a little. “Fuck, like I…I know I shouldn’t be…goin’ and building gingerbread houses with everyone tomorrow and breathing all over everyone’s shit, but I don’t want YOU t’ not participate—“

“Hey,” Husk says gently, cutting him off and taking his boyfriend's hand. “Quit sayin’ stupid shit.” He sighs a little, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Angel’s ear. “I promise I won’t cop out on shit, even if you don’t feel up to it, okay? But Angel, you can still build gingerbread houses and all the other shit we had planned, if you’re feeling up to it, okay? If you’re worried about getting anyone sick you can wear a mask. No one’s gonna care.”

Angel sniffles a little, and peaks up at Husk through his bangs, looking so adorable it hurts. 

“Really?” He asks quietly. Husk laughs a little. His boyfriend was so fucking stupid sometimes.

“I hate to break it to you Angel, but I was gonna suggest you wear a mask and your gloves for that particular thing anyway. It’s fucking ginger bread. I don’ want you giving yourself an allergic reaction dumbass.”

Angel blinks a little at that, offering Husk a small smile. 

“Oh. I…didn’t think about that.”

Husk huffs in fond exasperation. 

“I know. Sometimes I genuinely don’t know how you’re still alive, you’re so fuckin’ thick headed.”

“Fuck. You.” Angel shoots back, but he’s smiling now, his crying having stopped. Husk gazes at him softly. 

“It’s all gonna be okay Angie. I’m real sorry you ain’t feelin’ well, but we’re gonna have an awesome Christmas together, regardless. You’ve got time off, you’re gonna get lots of rest, and you can still participate in all the shit Charlie’s got planned so long as you feel up to it. And hey.” He leans in a little, tilting his boyfriend’s face up towards his to emphasize this last bit. “Absolutely NO feelin’ guilty if you need me to sit somethin’ out and stay with you. I don’ give a fuck about some bullshit activities that we can always do next year. I wanna be with you, first and foremost, even if that’s jus’ chillin’ in bed and taking care of you. Okay?”

Angel blinks rapidly, looking like he’s trying not to cry again. 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, laughing a little and wiping his eyes. “I wish I’d met you—a whole lot sooner.”

Husk smiles at that, and comes to sit beside his partner, wrapping his wing around him and pulling him into a hug.

“Me too kid. But we’re together now. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Angel burrows into his side and squeezes him tightly around the middle, sniffling a little. 

“Me either Whiskers. Merry Christmas.”