A Little Less Terrible (Hazbin Hotel)

[coolbeans18]

Hi all! Long time lurker, first time poster. I’ve seen so few HuskerDust sicksfics so I wanted to remedy that! Enjoy:) 
 

A Little Less Terrible

It’s nearly 3AM when Angel finally stumbles into the hotel lobby. This isn’t exactly uncommon, but one detail makes this time just a bit worse than usual: he’s getting sick. 

 

It’s not like this is uncommon either; honestly, he should be more used to it by now. In his line of work he’s lucky if he goes a month without some kind of cold, cough, stomach bug, fever, what have you. He used to welcome it; in the beginning, Val would give him time off when he was sick. That was before he’d signed the contract. Now, if he ever let slip that he was ill, Val would just switch gears and have him display it for the camera. Because, in Val’s words, “there’s a kink for everything.” 

 

And Angel himself supposed he could attest to that…he hadn’t known until working for Val, but he realized that he actually enjoyed some of the caretaking kink stuff. The coddling, the soothing, the emotional intimacy of it…and the sneezing. Angel realized pretty quickly that he enjoyed that in particular. He wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t really known he’d like it so much, when he was alive. Then again he hadn’t known much about his own sexual preferences in general growing up a gay kid in the 20’s. He defiantly wasn’t a virgin before he died but there weren’t exactly a ton of opportunities for him to…explore that part of himself. That’s part of what drew him to Valentino in the first place. The idea that he could do all the things he was made to feel ashamed for when he was alive, and get paid for it? It seemed like a dream. At first. Especially trying out new kinks. 

 

It had actually been HIS idea to film while he was sick. He was still new then, still owned his soul, and had caught a little cold for the second time since being in hell; it’s Hell, germs were everywhere, probably purposefully so, as punishment. The first time he fell ill Val had immediately given him the day off, which Angel used to think was so kind and attentive. Looking back now, it wasn’t like Val had taken care of him or anything; he’d just sent him up to his room, had the help bring him some tea and meds and left him alone. No cuddling or temperature taking from the Porn Overlord. But after that, as Angel’s…sphere of knowledge grew, and he learned about kinks of his own, he got a little bolder. The next time he came down with a cold and Val told him to take the day off, he had (shyly, if you can believe it) suggested that maybe they take advantage of the predicament. Val had grinned, and Angel felt so much pride. They’d filmed a pretty tame caretaking piece, with this gorgeous demon with a swimmers body feeding Angel soup, holding tissues for him when he sneezed and, eventually, soft, gentle sex. And Angel had loved it. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if it had been real. 

 

That was decades ago. Now, as he shut the hotel door behind him and clung to handle for support, he grimaced at the slowly encroaching sore throat, the shaky legs, the slightly runny nose. He sniffled, lightly, and ran a tired hand over his face. 

 

“You’re back late.”

 

He startled at the gruff voice, unaware that anyone was still up at this hour. But glancing up he could see the dim glow of the lobby’s bar lights and a figure lounging on the bar top.

 

“Yeah, well,” he muttered sleepily, “what else is new?” 

 

He didn’t elaborate, too tired to talk much, and began making his way over to the stairs. As he grew closer he could see Husk more clearly. He was propped up on the bar counter, one leg stretched out in front of him, one dangling off the side, reading. What, Angel didn’t know, but seeing him there, the pose making it evident how fucking short he was, Angel couldn’t help but smile fondly. 

 

“Look at ya Whiskers, yer lil legs ain’t even halfway to ground,” he said, grinning. Husk, who’d already been watching him, shot him a glare. 

 

“Can’t believe I waited up for you just to have you come over here makin’ wise cracks,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

 

Angel blinked.

 

“I…you waited up for me?”

 

He watched as Husk’s cheeks immediately grew pink and he scowled. 

 

“I wasn’t—No. Yes. I was up anyway, couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled. “Figured I’d come down here an’ keep the light on for you. Was just gonna be reading anyway.”

 

Angel’s chest did a little flip flop at this, but he flashed his usual smirk. 

 

“Aw Whiskers, you shouldn’t have.”

 

Husk rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Go to bed, you look like shit.”

 

Angel scoffed. 

 

“Not possible.” 

 

Which would’ve sounded a helluva lot more convincing if his voice hadn’t given out halfway through ‘possible.’ He gave a small cough, and cleared his throat. Husk, thank god, raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, sparing Angel any embarrassment. Husk was right, he Should get to bed…he needed to nip this thing in the bud. If he couldn’t hide it at work tomorrow Val would be pissed that his coughing and sneezing was interrupting whatever fucked up scenario he had him in that day.

 

There was always the chance Val let him do another caretaking porno, but those were far and few between these days, given that Angel was always a little too happy after them for Val’s taste. God forbid his workers enjoy their jobs. And even if he did let him do a caretaking shoot, they weren’t like they were before. Gone was any hope of the gentle sex that had tricked him into signing away his soul; nowadays these kind of shoots always had him at the studio way longer than others…Val didn’t seem to grasp that he was actually sick, not just acting, and the criticisms were often endless and impossible. ‘That sneeze was too loud, you’re sweating through the sheets, you’re shivering too much, you look too sick to be attractive, FUCK Angel, you look disgusting, at least try to have some sex appeal for this.’ The berating was usually followed by a beating, Val frustrated that he wasn’t “at his best.” No shit, Angel would think, I’m sick as a dog. 

 

Speaking of. His nose was running again and he tried to sniffle as discreetly as possible. 

 

“You should go to bed too,” he said to Husk. “You look tired.”

 

Husk glanced up from his book and gave a small sigh. “Yeah,” he mumbled, though his face visibly paled at the suggestion. Angel felt his heart crack a little. He heard the nightmares Husk got nearly every night. The moaning, the crying, the whimpering. Their rooms were right beside each other, and Angel had been tempted more than a few times to march next door, wake him from his demons, and just hold him close. But Husk was…private, to put it politely, and while their friendship was great, Angel also sensed it was still a bit delicate. He didn’t want to do anything to risk crossing a line—something he knew he’d done many times in the past with Husk already. Still, it made his heart hurt to know what awaited Husk each time he closed his eyes at night. 

 

Husk had jumped down off the counter and joined him in heading up the stairs. As they walked side by side, Angel was pulled from his thoughts by a slight tingle in his nose. 

 

He scrunched it up a bit, once, quickly, hoping that would alleviate the itch. 

 

It did not. 

 

As they continued making their way up the stairs, Husk was saying something to him, but he couldn’t really concentrate on what. All his attention was geared towards soothing the growing tickle in his nose. He didn’t know why, he’d sneezed on camera for millions of viewers before, but the thought of sneezing in front of Husk mortified him. What if Husk was grossed out by it? Or worse, what if he was all kind and caring in that stubborn, obnoxious way of his? What if he could somehow tell what that would do to Angel?

 

But since when was Angel shy about kinks, or anything sex related? Jesus, maybe he had a fever, and that’s why his brain was all over the place tonight. He was usually pretty good at being able to tell but at the moment he was a bit preoccupied by this teasing, feathery tickle that was growing and growing…he tried to discreetly rub at his nose and gave a small ‘snniff’ but damnit, that just made the itch worse, and just as they reached the top of the stairs he couldn’t help but let out a high pitched little “heh-hetchu!” 

 

Husk stopped whatever he’d been saying mid-sentence and turned to look at him, his eyebrows knitting together with concern. Angel felt his face heat up and a blush filled his cheeks. Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed around anyone. 

 

“I—sorry,” he muttered, sheepishly, and his voice came out sounding horse and worn.

 

Husk’s brow furrowed even further. “You okay kid?” He asked, and before Angel could protest, he brought a gentle hand to his forehead, in the briefest of touches before pulling back a little in alarm. 

 

“Christ Legs, you’re burning,” he said, his voice deep with worry. Angel felt his face flush even more.

 

“It’s…it’s nothing. Just picked up a bug at work. Nothin’ new. But ah, you probably shouldn’t get too close.” 

 

He tried to take a little step back, create some space between them, but his damn heel caught on the edge of the step and with his already unsteady legs he nearly tripped and fell down the stairs. Thankfully, Husk caught his arm just in time, righting him, and frowning. 

 

“I ain’t worried about that,” Husk huffed, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Jus’ can’t believe that prick kept you there this late when you were feelin’ sick. Did you walk home in the cold? You shoulda called, I’da taken the limo and come picked you up.”

 

Alright, Angel thought, now this was getting ridiculous. Who the fuck did Husk think he was, being all concerned and sweet and caring and—

 

His thoughts ceased as Husk reached into his overall pocket and pulled out a light blue handkerchief and offered it to him. At this point Angel’s brain short circuited and he stood there gaping like a moron at the shorter man in front of him. It was too much. It was too perfect. It sent literal butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. They stood there in awkward silence as Angel tried to tell his body to respond to the incredibly sweet gesture.

 

“Do you…do you not want it?” Husk asked, looking a little embarrassed himself. “Sorry, I didn’t think about it, I guess no one really uses these anymore, you got tissues in your room? Or do you need so—“

 

“No,” Angel cut in suddenly, reaching up to take the handkerchief. “No, this is fine, I uh…I used these, when I was alive…”

 

He trails off, fiddling with the piece of cloth with all four hands. He should blow his nose but there’s no way he’s doing that in front of Husk. Husk, putting his hands in his now empty pockets, chuckles lightly. 

 

“I forget that you died before me. You’re such a fuckin’ juvenile it’s hard to remember.”

 

Angel scowled. “I ain’t a fuckin’ juvenile. You just act like a 80 year old grump 24/7. S’ not my fault I keep up with the times.”

 

Husk rolls his eyes, but a small smile tugs at his lips. “Alright squirt,” he bites back, “you should be resting. C’mere to my room real quick first though.”

 

Angel raises his eyebrows. “Ya finally giving in ta’ me Whiskers?” He says in a sultry voice to cover up the fact that his heart is beating a little faster. “Can’t say the timing is ideal but who am I to turn down this golden opportunity?” 

 

Husk shoots him a glare over his shoulder as they make their way to his room. “Cut the bullshit,” he snaps.  “I’m just gonna give you some meds. You sound like you can barley breathe.”

 

At this, Angel flushes again, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. What’s worse, the tickle in his nose is back and as he follows Husk into the bedroom he feels his breath hitch just a little. He manages to keep the build up silent, as Husk rummages around in nightstand, but he turns to see Angel with a finger pressed under his nose, his chest rising and falling unevenly. 

 

“If you need to sneeze just sneeze kid,” he says, and Angel feels that heat on the back of his neck return with full force. Why is this so embarrassing?

 

“I—heh,” is all he manages to get out. He barely gets the handkerchief from his lower set of hands to his upper ones in time before he has to bring it his nose and “ehh-heh-hektch! Hektch!” He bends at the waist  slightly with the force of the two stifled sneezes. His sniffles lightly behind the hanky and pinches his nose shut to help alleviate the tickle. God it itches. His eyes are watering now and he blinks them open to find Husk standing right in front of him. He startles a little, and Husk laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “You know, you eh, you shouldn’t stifle them like that. I know it probably hurts.” There’s something a little…different about his voice as he says this but Angel is a bit too mortified at the moment to think much of it. He blushes (again) and looks at the floor. 

 

“I ah…I don’ wannda get germs all over your roomb,” he mumbles and Lucifer, he sounds so stuffed up and pathetic. He sees Husk’s smile fade and his expression fill with concern at the sound of his voice. He hands him two pills with a glass of water. 

 

“Here,” he says gently, “some drugs that are actually good for ya.” 

 

Angel takes them without question, tossing them back and chasing them with water. He hands the cup back to Husk and notices his hand trembling just a little as he does so. The dull throbbing of a brewing headache is starting to form and his nose still tickles like crazy, that annoying stage of the cold where it’s not bad enough for him to be sneezing his head off but instead leaving him with an incessant tingle that no amount of rubbing or sniffling can relieve. 

 

He risks a glance up at Husk and can barley stomach the look in his eyes. It’s full of such genuine worry and soft warmth that he thinks he might just throw himself into the man’s arms if he keeps maintaining eye contact. 

 

“Thanks Husky,” he murmurs, breaking away from his gaze. “I really preciate’ it. I ah, I better get to bed now. Gotta hope this goes away before work tomorrow.”

 

At this, Husks eyes narrow. “Christ Angel, you can’t go in tomorrow. You’ve got a fever, it ain’t gonna vanish overnight. You need to be resting, at least until the fever breaks.”

 

Angel chuckles. “Yeah, we’ll. Val don’t really do sick days. An if I don’ show up he’ll just come down here and throw a fit.”

 

“Let him,” Husk says with a growl. “He ain’t getting anywhere near this place. I’d like to see him try to get past little miss Princess. Or Al. Or Vaggie. Or me.”

 

At that, Angel can’t help but smile. 

 

“Yer sweet Husky. But I don’t wanna make trouble for anyone.”

 

“When you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Husk growls. “It ain’t trouble. We care about ya. You’re not—you ain’t all alone anymore Angel.” 

 

Angel ducks his head and looked away before he does something stupid like cry. But damnit if Husk’s words don’t make him melt inside. He sniffled again, less from his cold this time. 

 

“I…I know,” he practically whispered, biting his lip. “I just…this is somethin’ I gotta do. I take off without permission and it just makes it that much worse when I go back.” He tries for a smile. “Don’ worry your pretty head about it,” he says flirtatiously. “I’m used ta’ it by now. I’m a professional babe, I can handle just about anything.” 

 

He watches as Husk opens his mouth to protest, not buying the fake flirty approach. But he appears to  think better of it and shuts it again, his mouth drawn in a thin line. He sighs, looking frustrated, but resigns. 

 

“Alright Legs. I s’pose you know best. Just…take care of yourself I guess.”

 

Oh that’s just not fair. He knows he’ll absolutely be playing that “take care of yourself” over and over again in his mind for the foreseeable future. Husk’s room is low lit and oh-so cozy, and Angel imagines it smells like him too. What he wouldn’t give to curl up right here with Husk and let him make him feel just a little less terrible…and christ he feels really terrible…

 

Angel shakes his head a bit in an attempt to snap himself out of it. He forces himself to smile and gives Husk a wink. “Always do baby,” he says.

 

Husk scoffs at that, knowing first hand that that’s definitively untrue, but turns and heads back inside his room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Angel alone in the dark hallway. 

 

He lets the smile drop and shakily makes his way into his own room. He’s greeted at the door by Fat Nuggets who oinks happily at his owners return. Angel scoops him up and carry’s him over to his bed where he all but collapses in a heap of limbs, not bothering with a change of clothes or makeup remover. 

 

“Heya Nuggsy,” he croaks, giving his little guy some head scratches. 

 

Nuggs brings his snout close to his face and gives him a worried look, as if he can tell somethings up. 

 

“M’alright buddy,” Angel mumbles, though the wheeze in his voice is not very convincing. Nuggs moves even closer then and lightly boops Angel’s nose with his snout in a gesture of comfort. It was incredibly cute, save for the fact that it brought the itch in Angel’s nose back on, his nostrils flaring wildly. He ducks his head and sneezes into the comforter with a loud “het-chuu!” which startles his poor pet pig. He sniffles miserably in the aftermath, his throat and nose feeling like they’re on fire. “Sorry baby,” he rasps, putting a reassuring hand on his pigs side and pulling him close. Nuggs was warm and his bed was soft and before he knew it he had drifted off into a dreamless slumber. 

Edited April 29 by webmeistro

[RipleyToo]

Would you do a Vox one next? 🥰 I love your writing!

[coolbeans18]

Tysm! Sure:) Give me a hot second bc work is crazy but happy to:) I also plan to continue this one so stay tuned lol 

[RipleyToo]

Awesome! I’m excited! 

[coolbeans18]

Part 2! I’m thinking part 3 will be from Husks POV, stay tuned. Enjoy! 
 

A Little Less Terrible / Part 2

So evidently, a few hours of sleep did not fix everything. Screw Husk for always being right. 

Instead, Angel woke up feeling significantly worse than he had the day before. He could almost hear Husks voice in his head, chiding him. ‘Really?’ he’d say, ‘Working 16 hours in stilettos only to come home and get maybe 5 hours of sleep DIDN’T improve your condition?’ 

Asshole. 

As his alarm blared, Angel begrudgingly lifted his head. It felt like it was filled with wet cement, heavy and thick and gross. He sat up in bed an immediatly began shivering; he’d been so exhausted that he hadn’t bothered getting under the covers last night, a choice he now regrets. His chilled skin, the rawness of his throat, the heat coming off his head—no. He stops himself. No use taking stock of all his miserable symptoms. The more he thought about how poorly he felt, the harder the day would be. With a shake of his head, he forces himself off the bed and shakily makes his way over to the vanity where the sight of himself has him wincing at his own reflection. He makes quick work of yesterdays make-up and begins applying a fresh face. He adds extra concealer under his eyes to hide the dark circles that are forming, and goes heavy with the blush to keep himself from looking so damn pale. His hand shakes something awful as he tries to apply eyeliner, finally settling for a shoddy, slightly uneven job.

He decides against his usual suit, opting for a big sweater and leggings instead; he knew he’d change into whatever Val had planned for him upon arriving anyway. May as well be slightly more comfortable for the 20 minute walk over. 

He feeds Nuggs, who was still sound asleep on the end of bed, the lucky little bastard. He was adorable though, and Angel snaps a quick photo on his phone before heading out. He makes sure to shut the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake his baby boy. 

As he makes his way downstairs, he does his best Not to concentrate on the way his legs are trembling under his own weight. He makes a beeline for the kitchen, intending to grab a banana, but when he opens the swinging door he’s met with something he defiantly did not anticipate. 

Husk stands there, his back to Angel, hard at work on the kitchen stove. Angel can’t see what he’s cooking but he imagines it would smell amazing, if he could smell. Husk has always been a pretty decent cook; he’s made dinner for everyone a few times now. But never breakfast; Husk rarely gets up before 10AM, given that he often works evenings at the bar. Angel’s gaze trails to the kitchen  island where, in front of his usual seat, is a small packet of what looks like DayQuil, and his pink water bottle, already filled. His heart does a little flip flop. Is this for him? Did Husk get up early to make him breakfast and bring him more medicine? 

He’s debating about how to announce himself…should he clear his throat? Tap Husks shoulder? 

His nose makes up his mind for him. Maybe is the new aroma he can’t smell, maybe it’s the fluorescent lights, but the tickle in his nose returns with vengeance. It’s so sharp and sudden that he doesn’t have time to prepare for a stifle. He brings his arm up in an attempt to cover his nose with the back of his wrist, but this backfires as the fuzz from his sweater just makes the itchy feeling worse.

“Heh-chu! ih-sshu!” 

They come back to back, small and soft sounding. His sneezes were always so dainty in the mornings.

Husk startles a bit at the noise, turning around. When he lays eyes on the source, a soft smile takes over his face. 

“How ya feelin’ Legs?” 

His voice is low and rumbles a bit, a tad rougher than usual, laced with the early morning. And oh god does it do things to Angel. Things he didn’t think his mind or body could experience anymore after…well, everything. Once again, he has to shake himself out of it. It’s too early for Husk to be toying with him like this. Not that he’s doing it on purpose. Which makes it even more annoying.

“A little better,” he lies, sliding into his usual seat and making sure Husk sees him take the meds he’s laid out for him. Husk narrows his eyes, and leans over the counter a bit, squinting at him. Angel blinks.

“What? I got somethin’ on my face?”

Husk continues to squint at him for a moment longer before he drops his gaze, huffing.

“I was tryna tell wether you’re lyin’ or not ’,” he says, “but yer a goddamn wizard with that makeup n’ shit. S’ hard to tell.”

Angel laughs, though it ends in a bit of a wheeze. 

“Tools of the trade baby,” he replies, and immediately winces at the sound of his own voice. He sounds like he swallowed sand paper and gargled with gravel. Husk purses his lips. 

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” he says, frowning. “You sound like shit.”

“Thanks,” Angel shoots back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Husk raises his hands in mock defense. 

“Wasn’t meant to be an insult, just an observation.”

Angel waves him off with one hand.

“Eh, I know, I know,” he murmurs with a sigh. “Fuck, I sound like I smoke 3 packs a day.”

“Don’t you?” Husk shoots back with a teasing grin. Angel scowls.

“Not so much lately, thank you very much,” he says, folding his arms over his chest. Husk laughs a little at that, turning back to the stove. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says over his shoulder. “Ya been doin’ real good kid, m’ proud of ya’.” 

And what the hell is Angel supposed to say to that? He can’t recall the last time anyones said they were proud of him, save for Charlie, and she throws that shit around like candy. His chest grows tight with emotions he can’t place, and he lets out a small cough. Husk glances over his shoulder, shooting him a look filled with concern, and walks over towards the microwave. 

“Here,” he murmurs, opening the microwave and pulling something out. “Was keepin’ it warm for you. Should help with your cough.”

Angel watches as he turns to reveal a steaming mug of tea, which he carry’s over and carefully slides across the counter. 

“Drink up,” Husk says, turning back to the stove. “I got eggs and home fries here for ya too…nothin’ too heavy, I wasn’t sure how your stomach was feeling but I figured you should try and get some food in ya’, if you can.”

Angel sits there, staring. His brain is already foggy and he’s having trouble getting his mind to process the words he’s hearing. 

“I…you got up an’…an’ made all this for me?”

His voice is barley audible, wether it’s from his cold or from the way his throat has just closed up in response to this unbelievably kind gesture, he isn’t sure. Husk turns around then with a plate full of eggs and hash browns and meets his gaze. His cheeks turn slightly pink and he shoves the plate in front of Angel, quickly turning back around and busying himself with cleaning the stovetop. 

“Yeah well,” he mutters, “Don’t go makin’ a big deal about it, I jus’…wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya’.”

Angel feels the corners of his eyes well up a bit and he quickly blinks several times, sniffling. Christ, he’s such an emotional wreck when he’s feverish. 

“Well I—thank you,” he manages to get out before quickly turning his attention to the food to keep from embarrassing himself further. He’s surprisingly hungry, which he takes a good sign. Hopefully this is just a cold, not the flu or something worse. He opts to start with the tea first and he notes that it’s green tea with honey and lemon, not his usual chai. He takes a sip, and it instantly soothes his raw throat. He gives a happy hum over the rim of the mug.

Husk glances at him. “Alright?” He asks. “I know it’s not your usual but I figured it’d help more.”

Choosing to staunchly ignore the way his stomach flutters at the knowledge that Husk knows what tea he usually prefers, he nods. 

“No, it’s grehh~ehheh~great.” 

His voice wavers as the steam from the tea makes the tickle flare up again. He scrunches up his nose, hoping that this will alleviate it, but he’s forced to hastily set his tea down as his breath begins to hitch.

“Ehh…heh..hahh…”

He fumbles around in his pocket for the handkerchief Husk gave him last night. He can feel Husks eyes on him, watching this fiasco unfold, and his face heats up. He manages to get the hanky to his face just in time before…

“Heh..heh…hxch! Hxch! Hxch!”

Owww. He winces after stifling the triple, and coughs a bit, trying to catch his breath. What’s worse is those were little sneezes. As the day wore on he knew they’d just get more intense until they became impossible to stifle. At which point Val would throw a fit and he’d wind up with a black eye. He felt his head begin to hurt just thinking about it.

 When he looks up, the lower half of his face still covered with the handkerchief, he catches Husk staring at him. The smaller man’s face instantly mirrors his own, his cheeks flushing bright pink, and he hurriedly looks away. 

“Y’shouldn’t do that,” he mumbles as he goes back to cleaning the stove. “I can tell it hurts.” 

There it is again. Something’s different about his voice now. Angel can’t place it but it catches his attention. He squints at Husk. His back is to him but even from here he can see tension in his shoulders. Is he uncomfortable? Maybe the sneezing and coughing is grossing him out. That’s the last thing Angel wants, what with Husk being so kind to him. He shoves the handkerchief back in his pocket nervously and turns his attention towards his food, trying to shovel it into his mouth quickly before he starts to sneeze again. 

The eggs and home fries look delicious…he’s sure they’d taste great too, if he could taste them at all. The food in his stomach does make him feel a bit better, and he brings his empty plate over to the sink to wash it. His hip brushes Husk’s as he does so, and the other man practically jumps out of his skin. Angel jolts back in tandem, the sudden movement from Husk startling him as well. He drops his plate and it clatters into the sink.

The two stare at each other for a moment, both breathing hard, Angel with a questioning ‘the fuck?’ expression on his face. 

Husk flushes and clears his throat. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “jus’ wasn’t expecting you.”

Angel raises his eyebrows, confused, before he recalls Husk’s earlier reaction, and hastily takes a step back, putting space between them. 

“Sorry,” he says, rubbing a sheepish hand on the back of his neck. “Germs n’ all that. Wasn’t thinking.”

Husk frowns. “No, that’s not—“ He cuts off, biting his lip, as if he almost said something he shouldn’t. “S’ fine,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “I’ll do the dishes, you should go, you’ll be late.” 

Angel bites his lip. He’s wracking his brain, trying to think of something he could say that communicates just how much this meant to him. He hasn’t had anyone give a shit about his wellbeing in…well, a long time. And here’s Husk, getting up early to cook for him and make him tea and being kind and considerate and—

“Isshu! Hetchuh! Heh-hxch!”

Fuck. Those snuck up on him. They leave him wheezing, and he lifts his head from his sweater sleeve…apparently a bit too fast. The room starts to spin and suddenly he’s woozy and his legs go all wobbly. He feels himself start to stumble, and half-heartedly reaches for the counter to steady himself, knowing it’s already too late for that. He’s bracing himself to kiss the kitchen floor, when two warm arms wrap around his shoulders and catch him before he can fall. 

He glances up to find Husk there, holding him steady, his eyes full of worry. 

“Easy,” he says softly, and slowly helps Angel gently to the floor. Angel wants to protest but his legs have given out and he resigns himself to sinking down, back against the wall. There’s a sharp, stabbing pain behind his eyes and he sucks air in through his teeth, tucking his head and bringing his hands to his temples. He feels Husk beside him, sitting next to him against the wall so their knees are touching. 

“Germs,” Angel protests weakly, not wanting Husk to feel obliged to comfort him by sticking close. Husk just rolls his eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up, I told you, I ain’t worried about that, you just…startled me before is all,” he grumbles. 

Angel feels a gentle hand on his chin then, and he lets Husk slowly tilt his face up towards his so their eyes meet. Husk reaches up with the back of his hand, preparing to feel Angels forehead, but Angel bats his hand away. Husk complies, never one to touch Angel when he asks him not to, but he scowls. 

“I just wanna check your temperature,” he says, but Angel shrinks back a bit, shaking his head. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Husk demands, frustratedly. 

“Cuz,” Angel mumbles. “You’ll tell me I shouldn’t go in.”

Husk scoffs. “I don’t need to feel your forehead to know that. You need restAngel, even if it’s just one day—“

“I can’t not go,” Angel cuts him off, harshly, though it’s undermined by the waiver in his voice and the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks. “I can’t not show, the last time I did that he—“ His voice breaks now, and he lets out a strangled sounding sob and burrows his head between his arms and legs. His whole body is shaking now, wracked with anxiety and shivering and sobbing. “It’s just all such a mess,” he says from inside his sweater, his voice now barley a whisper. Christ he’s already running late and now he’s here on the kitchen floor with Husk who got up early to cook for him and defiantly didn’t sign up for this crying heaping mess of—

His spiraling thoughts are cut off by a gentle hand on his knee. He peaks out from his makeshift cave, not willing to expose his whole tear streaked, snotty face. 

Husk is gazing at him, not with disgust or poorly masked distaste as he’s grown accustomed too, but with such genuine concern and warmth that he nearly starts crying all over again. He swallows thickly instead and gives a small sniffle. Meanwhile, Husk has shifted a bit closer, and his arm and wing have moved to wrap around Angels shoulders, not touching him, just hovering there, waiting for permission. 

“Can I?” Husk asks, softly, and Angel gives a small nod. 

Warmth envelopes him as Husk pulls him close and wraps his wing around him like a security blanket. Angels throat is on fire, but even if it wasn’t, he didn’t think he’d be brave enough to say out loud the thoughts he has as this happens. How, this might be the first time someone has initiated a touch that didn’t make him want to crawl out of his own skin. How, he’s daring to hope that this is more than just a pity hug, but even if it isn’t, Angel would take it 100 times over. Husk feels safe, and soft and gentle and…like home. Angel scrubs his face and let’s himself burrow into Husks side and return the hug, wrapping his second set of arms around Husks mid-section, keeping him firmly in place. His crying is slowly subsiding, but he’s not willing to let go just yet. 

They sit like that on the kitchen floor for a long time.  

Eventually, Husk slowly starts to pull away and Angel can’t help it, he whimpers.  

“Relax,” Husk says softly, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. M’ just gonna grab you some tissues.”

At that, Angel hastily let’s go, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. He’s a wreck, and his tears and snot probably got on Husk’s fur. 

Husk gets up and, true to his word, returns a moment later with a tissue box which he offers. Angel takes one and uses it to wipe his face. Smudged makeup comes away with the tears. So much for all his hard work. He sniffles lightly, trying to keep his nose from running. 

“Blow,” Husk says, and Angel feels his face flush. He knows he should but…

“What, ya’ embarrassed or something?” Husk asks, eyebrows raised. “We ain’t at cotillion, s’ just me here. Go ahead.” 

Reluctantly, Angel reaches for  another tissue and gently blows his nose. Husk politely averts his eyes, returning to his spot against the wall beside him. Angel has to admit, he does feel better without his nose streaming like crazy. 

But the relief is short lived as immediately after blowing, he feels his nose start to tingle. He scrunches it, rubs it with the back of his wrist, but it’s no use. His nostrils feel almost…puffy, already red and irritated and so god damn sensative. As his breath starts to hitch he quickly turns to face away from Husk, fishing the handkerchief out of his pocket and bringing it to his nose. The fabric brushes against his quivering nostrils and pushes him over the edge. 

“Hah…hat-chuu! Ehhshuu! Isshuu! Heh…ehh…hxgtch! Igch! HeH-shoo!”

About halfway through the fit, he feels a warm hand on his back, rubbing small, comforting circles. After the fit finally subsides, he doubles over coughing, and soon he’s practically gasping for air, the back to back sneezing and coughing fits leaving him breathless and wheezing. His vision grows a bit blurry from the lack of oxygen, and the room is spinning in his periphery even though he’s sitting down. He feels Husk’s arms come around, rubbing his shoulders.

“Breathe,” he hears Husk say in his ear, and he knows he’s only trying to help, but the soft, low rumbling of his voice in Angel’s ear is defiantly not making the breathing part any easier. Angel continues to sit there, sputtering like an idiot, trying to heed the advice in between coughs. 

“Fuck, m’ sorry” he manages to choke out, and Husk shushes him. 

“Christ Angel, don’t apologize,” he mutters, continuing to rub his shaking shoulders as the fit slowly subsides. When it finally ends, he slumps back against the wall and lets himself sink further into Husk’s arms, chasing the warmth from his body. He feels Husk shift to accommodate him and all his lanky limbs, pulling him in close so that Angel’s head rests on his chest. Husk’s embrace is fucking sublime, but his fur brushes Angel’s already sensitive nose. It catches him off guard and he doesn’t have time to cover before-

“Hehtchu!”

He sneezes right against Husk’s chest. His face flushes bright red with mortification, both at the sneeze and the fact that he’s forced to bring his legs together to hide a…situation happening below his waist. Beside him, he hears Husk inhale, sharply. 

“Oh by god,” he croaks, and scrambles to get out of Husk’s arms, his entire face and neck on fire. “Fuck Husk, I’mb so sorry-“

“S, alright,” Husk cuts him off, and there it is again, that weird tone. Angel risks a glance up and he see’s that Husk’s face matches his own; his cheeks are bright red and he refuses to meet Angel’s eyes. His breathing has changed too, and Angel watches as he swallows, thickly, his hands gripping the fabric of his overalls like it’s a lifeline. 

“It was an accident,” Angel says, his voice barley a whisper. “I swear, I didn’t mbean…” he trails off, biting his lip and trying to steady his wavering voice. He’s panicking now, worried that he’s just fucked things up with the only person in all of hell that can stand him; he fights to keep from crying again. “I’mb so sorry,” he says again, not sure what else he can say. “I can tell your…uncomfortable and grossed out and—“

“I already told you,” Husk cuts in, a little forcefully and Angel jumps a bit. Husk’s eyes soften and he lowers his voice. “I already told you,” he says again, “I’m not—“ He pauses, his face flushing  even more and Angel’s poor muddled brain cannot make sense of what’s happening. “I’m not grossed out,” Husk finally says, “I promise. Trust me, I’ve had way worse. I’m just…worried about you is all.” 

Angel knows that’s not the whole truth; he can tell when Husk is lying. But he’s so exhausted right now that he shrugs it off, and just closes his eyes, leaning his pounding head back against the wall. Beside him, he can feel Husk watching him, waiting. Angel lets out a sigh.

“Go ahead,” he mutters, “say it.” He cracks an eye open to look at the other man. 

Husk bites his lip, as if he’s debating, before finally sighing, and says “You can’t go in to work today.”

Angel takes as deep breath as his lungs will allow and slowly exhales through gritted teeth. 

“I know,” he admits, feeling defeated. The thought of what will happen to him when he texts Val to call in sick…Angel squeezes his eyes shut, the thought almost causing him physical pain. He opens them when he feels a gentle hand on his arm. Husk is looking at him, and his expression is so full of compassion and genuine kindness that it makes the ball of anxiety in Angel’s chest loosen just a bit.

“I’m gonna take care of it, alright?” Husk says, and his eyebrows furrow in that adorable, determined way. Angel raises his eyebrows. 

“That’s sweet hon,” Angel says with a small smile, unable to stop himself from slipping into flirtatious mode, “But there isn’t much you can do about this kinda stuff.”

“Maybe not me,” Husk says, “but Alastor could.”

Angel blinks. 

“Wha’d’ya mean?” he questions, tilting his head. 

“I’ll get Al to talk to Valentino,” Husk says matter of factly. “Have im’ make up some bullshit about needing you for a job the next few days or somethin’.”

Angel frowns. “Would Alastor do that? No offense to your…boss, but he doesn’t seem like the guy to go handing out favors. An’ I don’t have anything to give him in return…I already sold my soul.”

Husk chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll convince him, I promise. Have some faith in me okay?”

“I do,” Angel says, a little too quickly. “It’s just…Val…he’s gonna want Alastor to pay him; ya know, for my…services.”

Husk waves him off. “I got it covered. Al can keep my salary for this week and use that.”

Angel crosses his arms. “No,” he protests, “I don’t want you doin’ that. Sides’, I know what Al pays you, it ain’t gonna be enough. I’m…expensive.”

At that, Husk wrinkles his nose. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says sarcastically, and despite himself, Angel laughs. It turns into a cough eventually, but it feels good all the same.

“I wasn’t bragging,” he says pointedly, and Husk raises his eyebrows. Angel rolls his eyes. “Alright, I was bragging a little, but I’m serious, Val’s gonna charge way too much for me, one week of your income isn’t gonna cover that…and you shouldn’t give that up for me anyway.”

“How bout’ 3 weeks?” 

Angel feels his mouth gape open like a fish. “I…No! No way, you can’t go three weeks without making ANY money!” He protests, shaking his head. “How would y~ou~heh…” He’s forced to trail off, his eyes fluttering closed as the itch in his nose returns, and he hastily pulls his sleeve up to cover his face.

“Heh-het-chu!”

Just one, and it was small and high pitched, like a fucking kitten. Angel huffs, frustratedly, scrubbing at his nose with the hanky trying to make the tickle back down. He thinks he’s succeeded, and starts over, only to be cut off once again mid-sentence.

“How wh~whhould…yhhhou~yehh~heh..hehh…hxtch! Hxgt-chu! Oh god damnit!” He half-shouts, frustratedly, and Husk is laughing at him. Angel scowls. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Husk says, trying to stop laughing. And Fuck, Husk’s laugh turns his legs to jello and his insides to liquid. “I’m stopping, I’m stopping,” Husk says, breathlessly, unable to contain the smile on his face. “But you’re proving my point. You need some sick days. Let me do this for you alright? I’ll be fine, might just have to actually charge you for your drinks for once. And if it really makes you feel better, when you’re back to work you can buy me lunch a few times, yeah?”

Angel hesitates. Can he really ask this of Husk? Making him breakfast is one thing, giving up three weeks worth of income is another beast. He’s never had anyone that would do something like that for him before, not even Cherri. 

“C’mon,” Husk prods him, like the annoying little prick he is. “Is 3 weeks salary enough to buy you for a few days?”

Angel sucks in his cheeks. 

“Yes,” he mutters quietly, “that should cover it.” 

Husk grins, and hell, if Angel had known it’d make him smile like that, he’d have given in to Husk’s prying instantly. 

“Okay then,” Husk hums happily, hoisting himself off the ground. He extends his hand out to Angel, offering to help him up, and Angel takes it, trying to force his wobbly legs to assist him in getting off the ground. Husk ends up doing most of the work, and, once Angel is up, holds on to him a little longer, as if he’s worried the taller man will go toppling over the minute he lets go. 

“Fuck off,” Angel murmurs half-heartedly, “I can walk.” 

“Alright,” Husk says, and he lets go, but doesn’t leave Angel’s side. He hovers there, obnoxiously close, and continues to do so as the two make their way out of the kitchen. 

“We should get you in the shower,” Husk says, guiding him towards the stairs. “Get you clean and then get you to bed.”

“Oooooo,” Angel teases, unable to help himself. “You wanna take me in the shower and then on the bed? S’ usually the other way around but I’m game for anything.”

Husk roles his eyes. “You’re impossible,” he growls. “Even while dying you’re makin’ fuckin’ innuendos.”

Angel winks at him. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

Husk snorts, and they begin the long trek up the stairs to Angel’s room. Angel’s wheezing slightly by the time they reach the top, but he manages. 

“Don’ go wakin’ up Nuggs,” he chides as they make their way down the hall. “M’ pretty sure he’s still sleeping, check out how cute he looked this morning.” Angel pulls up the recent photo of his pig on his phone and shoves it in Husk’s face. He resists the urge to laugh as Husk squints at the screen like an old man, letting his eyes adjust to the light. 

“Very cute,” Husk agrees, nodding, and Angel’s heart does that odd little flip flop again.

They reach Angel’s room and, heeding his instructions, Husk opens the door very quietly, stepping aside so Angel can follow him inside. Sure enough, there’s Fat Nuggets, sound asleep on the end of the bed, right where Angel left him.

“Nuggsy,” he coos, making his way over to the bed, “m’ back already. You get your daddy for the whole day, can you believe that?” His pig stirs, and oinks happily at the return of his owner. 

“What happened to ‘don’t wake him up’?” Husk grumbles, but he joins Angel over by the bed and gives the pig some gentle head scratches. Angel flops down on the bed on his side, enjoying the site of his…of Husk, and his baby, loving on each other. As soon as his body is stretched out on the mattress, he feels his eyelids begin to droop. Gosh he was tired, how did he ever think he was going to go in today? Husk notices him begin to drift off, and comes around to gently shake his shoulder. 

“Nuh-uh,” he chides. “Not yet. You need to take a shower. I promise you’ll feel better with all that makeup and sweat off of you.” 

Angel groans, but complies, hauling himself off the bed and into a standing position. He begins peeling off his clothes (Husk was right, they are sweaty), discarding them on the floor, too tired to bother walking all the way over to the hamper. He’s halfway out of his leggings when his fever riddled brain takes note of Husk, whose still in the room, looking extremely uncomfortable, his eyes trained on the ceiling and his cheeks bright pink.

“Ah fuck, sorry” Angel says, hastily pulling his leggings back up to cover his underwear. “Sometimes I forget that not everyone…does what I do all day,” he chuckles. 

Husk just gives a small nod, still pointedly averting his eyes and looking extremely flustered, which Angel finds ridiculously cute.

“Jus’ maybe…change in the bathroom,” he mumbles, and his voice has gone up at least two octaves. Angel smirks. 

“You got it Daddio,” he says, flashing a grin at Husk, who lets out a frustrated sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a squeak. 

As he turns to head into the bathroom Husk’s voice stops him. 

“Hey,” the other man calls after him, his eyes still looking anywhere but at Angel. “I’m um…I’m gonna stay right out here if that’s okay with you. Jus’, wanna make sure I’m close by, in case you get dizzy again.” 

Angel huffs, though internally, his heart is doing little somersaults. 

“I’m not gonna slip and fall in the shower,” he bites back. “M’ not 80. But fine, you can stay.”

A small smile tugs at Husks lips, and he gives a small nod, seeming satisfied with that answer. Angel slips into the bathroom and shuts the door,  immediately sliding down onto the tile while taking deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heart. He has to resist the urge to get up and do a little dance and squeal like a teenage girl. ‘There’s a cute boy in my room’ he thinks, and then roles his eyes at his own ridiculousness. Still, he can’t keep the dopey grin off his face for more than a few seconds. 

He didn’t know it was possible to feel this shitty and this happy at the same time. 

[RipleyToo]

Amazing update! 

[Cambria]

This is amazing please more

[coolbeans18]

On 5/1/2024 at 8:40 PM, RipleyToo said:

Amazing update! 

Ty!!😁

[coolbeans18]

On 5/3/2024 at 4:47 PM, Cambria said:

This is amazing please more

I’m glad you enjoyed! Stay tuned! 

[coolbeans18]

A Little Less Terrible / Part 3! 
 

A Little Less Terrible / Part 3

 

Husk had only been in Angel’s room a handful of times. And up until now each time had been short lived; half carrying Angel up the stairs when he was wasted and depositing him on the bed, or coming in briefly to borrow toothpaste. But now, as he stood there, waiting for Angel to finish his shower, he took the time to look around, making sure to keep his ears carefully trained on the bathroom in case of a slip.

First things first: there was a LOT of pink. Normally this much pink would’ve made Husk want to vomit but for some reason, knowing it was Angel’s room, Husk found he didn’t mind. The room was a bit messy, but nowhere near as bad as Husk’s own. Some clothes were strewn about the floor and Husk picked them up while he waited. There was some makeup littered on the vanity too but Husk didn’t bother with that. He didn’t know the difference between bronzer and highlight and he’d seen Angel’s collapsable travel make-up kit, with all its compartments neatly labeled and color coded. And that was his travel sized one. Husk certainly didn’t trust himself to sort out his at-home make up.

The vanity had huge show stopper lights surrounding the mirror and Husk took in the back wall where it sat. It was covered with posters of various movie stars and cut outs from fashion magazines. There was a purple neon sign that read “Dazzle,” which made Husk chuckle. On the opposite side of the room, small fairy lights were hung above the bed. In leu of a headboard, Angel had about 500 pink and purple pillows pilled up agaisnt the wall, and above those, a cork board with photos pinned onto it. Husk moved closer to get a better look.

There was nearly a dozen photos of Fat Nuggets, several of which had little hand drawn hearts scribbled along the edges in sharpie. Husk glances at the pig who was awake now, but still happily seated on the end of the bed. “Loved much?” Husk muttered to the tiny creature, who just stared back at him with stupid, adorable eyes. There were two photos of Angel and Cherri; one was a photo strip from a Photo Booth where they were both clearly sloshed but looking goofy and happy. And another featured Angel in drag, with his arm over Cherri’s shoulder (Husk stared a little too long at that one). And finally, way up in the left hand corner, was a selfie Angel had taken of the two of them. It was a little blurry and Husk was scowling in it, likely in the middle of telling Angel to get the god damn phone out of his face. But Angel was grinning and holding up a peace sign like a high schooler. Husk felt his chest grow warm. He’d figured Angel had deleted it after Husk told him he wasn’t allowed to post it. 

On the nightstand, Angel’s phone buzzes. He hadn’t taken it into the bathroom with him. It’s face up, and Husk can clearly see Valentino’s name on screen, sending Angel several rapid fire texts, none of them likely to contain anything good. Husk walks over to where the phone sits and stares at it, hesitating for a moment, debating. Then he reaches over and puts it on mute. Angel doesn’t need to get stressed while he’s this sick. Besides, Husk is true to his word; he IS going to handle this. As soon as Angel’s safely in bed he’ll go talk to Alastor. But Valentino can wait for five minutes. 

He hears the water shut off then, and some rusting around as Angel dries off and gets dressed. Husk’s brain goes awol for a moment and begins picturing Angel wrapped in a towel. He manages to wrangle his mind back under his control but not before he feels his cheeks heating up at the lingering thought. And then— 

“Heh…heTCHU! Hetchuh! Eh..ehhh…Ish-SHOO! Ah…ahhh…Atchuh! Etchuu!” 

Even muffled from behind the bathroom door, Husk can hear the desperate sneezing. Wether it’s because Angel doesn’t feel the need to stifle anymore behind closed doors, or if they’re just getting stronger as the cold progresses, Husk isn’t sure. But they ring in his ears like fucking fire alarms and despite his own attempt at self control his body immediately reacts to the sound. He feels his knees go weak and his palms start to sweat and his breathing grow shallow. Fuck, Angel isn’t even visible at the moment and he still has to clench his fists to keep the warm feeling pooling in his abdomen from spreading to…other regions of his body.

 

Husk has never really been what you’d call…open, about his sex life. He was a pretty private person in general, about everything, and the thought of talking with someone about his…preferences, even past partners and those he’d been in long term relationships with…it made him nauseous just thinking about it. Not to mention the fact that he Hated this particular affinity he happened to have. Husk didn’t want to say anything and risk anyone misunderstanding. He didn’t root for anyone to get sick and he hated seeing those he cared about feeling poorly. He just also happened to like taking care of people. He liked the intimacy of it, the vulnerability…and yes, he liked the sneezing. Something about the expression that people made, the build up, the release…the fact that it was often strikingly similar to another expression that was typically only witnessed by intimate partners.

 

And so naturally, when Angel, someone Husk already found so attractive it was stupid, made that expression? Fuck. It was hard to behave normally around him. It also didn’t help that Angel in any state of vulnerability was ridiculously adorable. When he was drunk or sleepy or just a little under the weather Husk would constantly catch himself wishing he could scoop the other man up, carry him up the stairs, tuck him in and just hold him close.

 

Angel brought out this fierce protective streak in Husk. It had him juggling instincts that he used to view as opposites: he wanted to wring Valentino’s neck and watch the life drain out of him in the most painful and slow way possible, while also wanting to wrap Angel in memory foam and affection and ensure that no one would ever hurt him again.

Angel emerged from the bathroom surrounded by steam and clad in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy pajama bottoms. He was scrubbing at his red nose with his wrist, sniffling, and blinking sleepily. “M’ all done,” he says, and his voice is so horse it’s barley audible. Husk has the sudden urge to wrap him in a blanket burrito and kiss him on the forehead.

Instead, he pulls back the comforter on Angel’s bed and and gestures for him to come over. Angel smirks.

“If ya’ wanted me under the covers Husky all you had to do was ask,” he says. Husk imagines he’s trying to sound sexy but it comes out more like he’s a frog choking on a bug.

“Why don’t you save the jokes until you’re better?” He grumbles. “They don’ exactly work when you sound like you swallowed gravel.”

Angel sticks out his tongue. 

“Juvenile,” Husk immediately quips, earring him a glare.

“Quit bein’ mean, I’m sick,” Angel pouts, but he makes his way over to the bed and crawls under the covers. He’s practically asleep by the time his head hits the pillow. Husk chuckles softly, and gently pulls the covers up to his chin. 

As he turns to head out, Angel’s voice, barely audible, stops him.

“Wait,” he calls out, sounding almost panicked. Husk turns to see him fighting to hold his eyes open. “Where’re you goin’?”

“I’ll be right back,” Husk reassures him from the doorway. “Promise. Just goin’ to talk to Alastor and bring you some tissues.” 

Angel watches him warily, as though he’s not entirely convinced, but appears to be too tired to do much about it.

“I’ll only be a second,” Husk reiterates, and the double reassurance finally seems to satisfy Angel as he closes his eyes again, instantly drifting off. Husk watches him fondly for a moment before turning to leave again.

“Keep an eye on him,” he whispers to Fat Nuggets over his shoulder. The little pig blinks at him. Husk takes this to mean message received, and quietly exits, shutting the door behind him. It’s still pretty early in the morning. Alastor will be in his room, likely having breakfast. Husk takes a deep breath and mentally steels himself as he makes his way up to the third floor.

Alastor certainly wasn’t the worst, as overlords go, but he sure as hell wasn’t one to hand out favors, as Angel had said. That meant Husk was going to have to force his hand a little. And while he fortunately knew how to do that, it didn’t mean Alastor would take kindly to it. He might not act on it immediately, but there would certainly be some form of punishment for what Husk was about to do..eventually.

He reached Alastor’s door. He hated that it felt so large and imposing. He took a breath, raised his fist to knock and—

“Ah, Husker!”

Husk jumped back in alarm as the door swung open and Alastor stood there, grinning wide as ever. “Fuckin’ hell Al,” he snapped. “Warn a guy.”

“My apologies my good man, please come in.” Alastor said, stepping aside and gesturing grandly for Husk to enter. Reluctantly, Husk shuffled past. He hated Alastor’s room; it was always so swampy and hot. Why he’d chosen to vegetate in a magical bog was beyond Husk. Alastor shut the door behind him, loudly, and turned the lock. Even though Husk knew he could just unlock it from the inside, he suddenly felt cagey. Alastor seemed relaxed as ever as he strode across the room, smirking at the way Husk’s hair stood up a bit at the sound of the lock clicking.

“So, what can I do for you Husker my dear?” Alastor warbled. Husk took a deep breath.

“I need a favor boss,” he said, making sure his voice stayed even. “I need ya’ to tell Valentino that you wanna…you wanna hire Angel for a job for the next few days. You can keep my salary for the next three weeks to pay for im’. Should cover it.” Alastor turned from where he was clearing his breakfast, his head doing that creepy 180 before the rest of his body would follow. Husk resisted the urge to shutter.

“I see,” Al mused, “and why, might I ask, should I offer this…favor? It seems I’m getting nothing in return for my services.” Husk sighed. He hated forcing himself to plead. But he would, for Angel.

“C’mon boss, please,” he says through grit teeth. “The poor kids sick, he just needs some time off. Do him a favor like this and I guarantee it’ll get you some brownie points with the Princess.”

Alastor tilted his head, seeming to ponder this. “Hmmm,” he murmured. “As enticing as you attempted to make that sound, I am afraid I’ll have to decline. True, earning the trust of my business parter is always nice, but there are other, less tedious ways to go about such things. Besides. I rarely tolerate even thinking about that Valentino, much less speaking to him. For an egomaniac he’s a dreadful bore.”

‘And an abusive prick’ Husk thought, bearing his teeth. Fine. If Alastor wanted to be difficult, so could he.

“You know,” Husk growled, “if I were you, I’d take every opportunity you have to impress Charlie. What if she ever found out about…certain things you’ve done? You’ll need lots of good deeds to cushion the blow of that falling out, and even then, I’m not sure even Charlie could forgive some of the shit that you’ve pulled over the years.”

Static began to fill the room, building slowly, growing louder and louder. It rang in Husks ears, and he watched as Alastor’s face changed from his typical mplastered smile to a toothy maw that threatened to split his face in two. He began to grow too, stretching, thinning, elongating in an unnatural and jagged way.

“What did you say?” he hissed, the static cackling around him. A green chain appeared around Husk’s neck and Alastor’s form gave it a tug, intending to yank Husk closer. But Husk, for the first time in a long time, stood his ground. He dug his heels into the floor and kept his stance wide, refusing to be toppled.

“You got two options,” he said through grit teeth. “You can help Angel out and earn points with Charlie and everyone’s happy. Or, I can tell Charlie about any one of the stunts you’ve pulled the last 20 years and she’ll send you packin’. Choice is yours.”

“In that case, why don’t I just kill you now?” Alastor trilled. And Husk laughed. Probably not the smartest move on his part but he couldn’t help it. He knew he had Alastor backed into a corner; he couldn’t count how many empty death threats he’d made towards Husk in the past, and Husk had learned that he only really made them when he couldn’t think of anything more sinister or calculated to throw his way.

“You ain’t gonna kill me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re horrible, but you’re not a monster, s’ much as that bothers you. Sides’ you need me. Gonna get yourself another errand boy? This one better be a former overlord too; wouldn’t want you to loose all that power that you borrow from me.”

The static in the air seemed to glitch. It began to heat up, almost as if it were sizzling, and then ‘pop’. Just like that, it dissipated. Alastor stood there, back in his normal form, his hands propped on his microphone, smiling as per usual. Any onlookers would think he was the picture of composure, but Husk saw beneath the false grin. The set of his jaw, the deep, pit-like hollowness in his eyes. Alastor was Angry. Husk didn’t know which was making him more furious, the fact that Husk was blackmailing him, or that he was going to get away with it…for the time being.

“Very well Husker,” Al crackled. “I’ll see to it that Angel gets his little cover story. Run along now.”

‘Gladly,’ Husk thought, immediately heading for the door. But as he reached for the lock, his hand was stopped by Alastor’s shadow. It appeared suddenly, reflected on the door, it’s grin wide and imposing. Husk watched as it slowly reached up and unlocked the door with its spindly fingers, and then lingered there for a moment, as if to remind Husk that the stunt he’d just pulled would not be forgotten.

Skirting wide so he wouldn’t have to touch the shadow, Husk slipped out the door and into the hallway, slamming it shut behind him. Once he was out in the hall, he gave himself permission to slump against the wall and attempt to catch his breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it for that entire conversation. He shoved his slightly shaking hands in his pockets, trying to steady his nerves. Whatever future wrath he’d just inflicted on himself, the damage was done. No point in worrying about it now.

With a shake of his head, Husk forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and set about getting some medicine and tissues for Angel. On his way down to the lobby he ran into Charlie, and let her know that Angel was ill, not high or skipping lessons. He let slip that he was gathering some supplies for the other man, at which point Charlie insisted on helping him. What Husk had imagined as a pill box and some tissues quickly turned into a full blown care basket with Charlie’s input. She sent Husk back up the stairs lugging an oversized bucket filled with various soups, teas, medicines, tissues, herbal remedies, and a stuffed duck from Charlie’s own bedroom for “moral support.”

While it may have been a bit overkill, Husk had to admit it was very sweet of her. And the duck was pretty cute.

He finally reached Angel’s room, and was forced to set the basket down with a grunt in order to get a hand free to open the door. He tried to do it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the sick man. He was met by Fat Nuggets, who’d since vacated the bed and was up and about, greeting him with excited snorts and jumping up onto his pant leg. His noise making caused Angel to stir and open his eyes.

“Look what ya’ did,” Husk said to the pig, frowning. Nuggs just oinked happily and continued running around Husk’s feet.

“He’s awful excited to see ya’,” Angel muttered from his bed, yawning. “Don’ think he even greets Cherri like that.”

“Yeah well,” Husk huffed, “maybe he’s got poor taste.”

Angel chucked, coughing a little at the end.

“Here,” Husk said, reaching into the enormous basket and pulling out some cough drops. Seeing the basket for the first time, Angel’s eyes grew wide.

“You brought all this for me? Christ Husk, I’m just one skinny twink. There’s enough cold medicine in there to drug a horse.”

Husk couldn’t help himself from laughing.

“Charlie heard you weren’t feeling well and ah, she went a little over board. But on the bright side…” Husk reaches into the basket and pulls out the stuffed duck, holding it up for Angel to see. “She’s gifted you a duckie.”

Angel’s pupils widen, and he reached out towards the stuffed animal with both arms, making a grabby motion like a little kid.

Husk chuckles. “Juvenile!” He repeats, but hands the little duck over into Angel’s outstretched hands.

Angel immediately pulls the duck in close, hugging it to his chest. Behind him, Nuggs manages to jump up onto the bed, crawling over towards his owner, and lets out a disgruntled squeak.

“I think he’s worried he’s been replaced,” Husk laughs, and Angel quickly sets the duck down and rolls over to cuddle his pet.

“Nah, don’ you worry baby,” he says in a sing song, albite stuffed-up voice, “Mbama could neber replace you. Whose my handsombest little mban? You are.”

Hearing Angel baby talk to his pig in that adorable, cold ridden voice did weird things to Husk’s insides.

“Here,” he says, trying to ignore the odd palpations in his chest, and hands Angel some cough drops and a fresh box of tissues. He also scoots Angels trash can over to the side of the bed for ease of access.

Angel pops a cough drop onto his tongue and blows his nose. His earlier reservations about doing so in front of Husk seem to have crumbled with his encroaching fatigue. Even now, his eyelids droop, and he keeps blinking, fighting to stay awake.

“Y’ should go back to sleep,” Husk says softly. “M’ sorry we woke ya’.”

Angel gives a sleepy shake of his head, letting it fall back down onto the pillow. “S’ okay,” he mumbles, eyes already closing, “You were bringin’ mbe all this nice stubff.”

Suddenly, Angels eyes fly open like a man possesses and he struggles to prop himself up. “Val,” he croaks, starting to reach for his phone, “is he—did you—“

With a gentle hand, Husk takes Angel’s wrist, stopping him before he can grab the phone. “It’s been taken care of,” he assures the other man. “I just talked to Al. He’s handlin’ it. You ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

Angel reluctantly leans back, the arm that’s propping him up already shaking from the effort, his eyes still flitting back and forth between Husk and his phone.

“I—you’re sure?” he says horsily, his chest heaving up and down unevenly as he struggles to calm his erratic breathing.

“Positive,” Husk says firmly. “Val ain’t gonna argue with Alastor; he’s terrified of the guy.”

Angel manages a breathless little laugh, and Husk leans forward a bit.

“Why don’t you lay back down yeah?” He murmurs. “You’re shaking.”

Angel meets Husks eyes and holds his gaze for a moment. His iris’s are bright and feverish and slightly unfocused, and his whole frame trembles, though Husk isn’t sure if it’s from the of sitting upright or chills or both. It feels like someone stuck a knife in his gut, seeing Angel looking so miserable. Angel slowly lets himself sink down into the pillows, breathing gradually steadying.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

Husk frowns. “For what?”

Angel shrugs a little, look exhausted. “I don’ know,” he says, “for freakin’ out a bit there I guess. I…thank you Husk. For…everything.”

Husk, whose not used to receiving any sort of gratitude, feels his cheeks color.

“S’ not a problem,” he says after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from one foot to the other. He turns to go, and relieve himself of the awkwardness he’s feeling, but a hand catches his wrist.

“Wait,” Angel says, looking up at him. “I don’t—would you stay? Until I fall asleep?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Angel’s face turns bright red, as if just realizing what he asked. Husk thinks it’s probably his fever talking, letting things slip that Angel himself in any normal state would’ve never said out loud.

“Shit,” Angel croaks, seeming to panic a little. “That wasn’t…I didn’t mean…” He trails off, though not of his own accord.

Husk watches as the other man’s eyes flutter closed and his breath begins to hitch. His nose flares as he gropes around blindly for a tissue, putting a finger underneath to try and prolong the build up.

Husk tries to ignore the giddy sensation in his stomach and pulls two tissues from the new box and places them into Angel’s hand. Angel immediately brings them towards his face, his hand hovering there, waiting, but the build up appears to be teasing him, a of his initial attempt to stave off the sneezes.

“Heh…haaa…ah, fu~uhuh~ck… ehhehh…ih-it’s…ihhts…st-uhhh…ahhh…ahhh, st~ihih~uck, “ he manages, in between hitching breaths, and Husk can’t stop himself from watching, feeling equal amounts of guilt and awe at the display in front of him.

“O~heh~oh guhhh…god,” Angel hitches, holding the tissues in front of his face, still waiting, “ihhh….it whh~on’t, hehhh…EHeh…Ehh-CHU! Exg-tchu! Haaahh…Hat-chuu! Eshu! Exgtch! Hxtchu! Ughh, Fuck. Ow.”

Husk watches the whole thing, utterly entranced. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until the fit ends, and Angel sits there, breathless, clutching his temples in pain.

“I keep tellin’ you not to do that,” he manages to mumble, shoving his hands into his pockets so Angel can’t see his clenched fists. He needs to control himself. He doesn’t want Angel feeling self conscious or embarrassed because he can’t mask his own discomfort. And it IS discomfort, just not for the reasons Angel thinks. Husk certainly isn’t worried about germs or being too close to the other man while he’s sick…if anything it’s the opposite.

But Husk can’t even think about Angel potentially realizing that without getting nauseated. He forces himself to take a subtle deep breath and goes to tentatively sit beside Angel on the bed.

As he’s still reeling from the aftermath of the fit, Husk gingerly hands him some more tissues, which the other man accepts and uses to blow his nose. Husk also reaches over and grabs some basic pain and fever reducers from the care basket.

“We should get these in you,” he says, opening the bottle and grabbing the glass of water from the nightstand. “They’ll help with that headache and bring your fever down. You ate your breakfast, which is good, can’t take these on an empty stomach.”

Angel peaks up from his tissues, blearily, and just nods with a small, pitiful sounding sniffle. Husk gives him the pills and he takes them, wincing as they go down his sore throat and giving a small cough afterwards. He slumps back against his 500 pillows and reaches for Nuggs, who he pulls in close to his side, for warmth or comfort or probably both.

He’s still shivering something awful, and Husk gently reaches into the care basket and takes out a warm fuzzy grey blanket. With careful hands he wraps it around Angels shoulders, and then pulls the comforter up to his chest, hoping it’ll help warm him up.

Angel sits there, watching him, looking bewildered.

“Why are you being so nbice to mbe?” he practically whispers.

The tone of his voice makes Husk’s breath catch. He just sounds so…broken. Like he can’t imagine why he’d ever deserve to be taken care of. It breaks Husk’s heart, but also makes his blood boil. He can’t stand what Valentino has done to the poor kid in front of him, making him believe he’s worthless and unworthy.

“Because,” Husk says, and his voice is rough with emotion. He clears it quickly. “You don’t feel well. S’ just what people do.”

Angel stares at him. “People?” he asks sleepily, titling his head.

“Well,” Husk huffs, “the right kinda people, at least.”

At this, Angel smiles. “I think ya’ almost gave yourself a compliment there Husky,” he says, grinning, and Husk feels his face flush again.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles, “y’ know what I mean. I ain’t sayin’ I’m some saint, it ain’t exactly hard to be a better person than that prick you work for.”

At that, Angel grimaces. “Ugh,” he spits, as if Husks words leave a bad taste in his mouth, “Don’ even…please don’t ever even compare yourself to him,” he says, wincing. “You two aren’t even…your names shouldn’t even been said in the same sentence together.”

This definitely isn’t what Husk was expecting to hear. He stares at Angel, a stupid expression on his face.

Angel frowns at him. “I’m serious,” he says, as forcefully as his voice will allow. “Don’ even joke about that.”

“Alright,” Husk says, putting a gentle hand on the other man’s chest and lightly pushing him back against the pillows, not wanting Angel to strain himself. “Alright, I won’t.”

Angel relaxes, letting himself lay back, seeming to have used up all his energy in that moment. He sighs, a tired sounding wheeze that catches in his throat.

“Good,” he murmurs sleepily, blinking.

Husk feels a soft smile overtake his face…he can’t help it. As much as he wishes for him to be well, Angel like this was so endearing. So delicate and open and…cute.

Husk carefully gets off the bed and settles himself on the floor beside it, laying back and taking out his phone to keep busy. At his movement, Angel cracks one eye open, peeking at him. Husk catches him watching as he settles himself on the ground. 

“You stayin’?” Angel asks softly, and Husk smiles.

“Course. You asked me too.”

At that, Angel’s face changes, into an expression Husk has never seen before. For a moment he worries he’s said something wrong.

“That still okay with you?” Husk asks, backtracking in case he’s over stepped. But Angel nods his head.

“Yes,” he says, perhaps a little too quickly, and this makes Husk smile. “Yes, that’s…”

He trails off, looking like he can’t quite think of what to say. Finally, he meets Husks eyes again, and his gaze holds so much warmth and gratitude that Husk has to look away. The hell is he supposed to do, with a look like that?

“Thank you,” he hears Angel say, and he forces himself to look up at him again, but finds Angels eyes are already closed, a soft and serene smile on his face.

 

I hope you guys enjoyed! Comments always appreciated, let me know what you liked:) 

[RipleyToo]

I loved it of course! Do you plan on continuing this story? Or plan on doing another? I’d love to see a sneezy sicky cocky Vox!

[RosyLights]

Oh wow, I love this so much! I'm not super familiar with Hazbin Hotel, but I still really enjoyed reading this. I love how thoughtful and caring Husk is towards Angel, and how Angel is able to let his guard down around him and trust him to take care of him. There are so many parts that I like in particular, like when Husk made breakfast for Angel and then comforted him when he broke down. And how he got Alastor to cover for Angel so he could have some time off. Also how they both have the fetish- I'd like to see what would happen if they both learned that the other also has it. Anyway, this was great and I'd love to read more, if you're planning on continuing. I can't tell if this is the last chapter, but if not, I'll be looking out for the next one!

[coolbeans18]

8 hours ago, RosyLights said:

Oh wow, I love this so much! I'm not super familiar with Hazbin Hotel, but I still really enjoyed reading this. I love how thoughtful and caring Husk is towards Angel, and how Angel is able to let his guard down around him and trust him to take care of him. There are so many parts that I like in particular, like when Husk made breakfast for Angel and then comforted him when he broke down. And how he got Alastor to cover for Angel so he could have some time off. Also how they both have the fetish- I'd like to see what would happen if they both learned that the other also has it. Anyway, this was great and I'd love to read more, if you're planning on continuing. I can't tell if this is the last chapter, but if not, I'll be looking out for the next one!

Tysm!! There will def be more 😁

[coolbeans18]

10 hours ago, RipleyToo said:

I loved it of course! Do you plan on continuing this story? Or plan on doing another? I’d love to see a sneezy sicky cocky Vox!

Ty! I do plan on continuing this; for some reason I’m having trouble writing Vox😂 these 2 r my fav characters so it’s easier for me haha. 

[RipleyToo]

2 hours ago, coolbeans18 said:

Ty! I do plan on continuing this; for some reason I’m having trouble writing Vox😂 these 2 r my fav characters so it’s easier for me haha. 

I understand! Hopefully you can work something out  

Im happy to hesr youre continuing this!

[coolbeans18]

A Little Less Terrible Part 4!

The first thing Angel noticed when he woke was the time. It’s become a compulsion of his, checking the clock. He learned very early that you never wanted  to be late for Val.

When he saw that it was nearly noon, he had a moment of panic, thinking he’d over slept and should’ve been at the studio hours ago.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a figure on the floor beside his bed. 

When he sees Husk, the events of the morning come flooding back to him, and he forces his heart to slow. He doesn’t have to be at work. Husk took care of that for him. Husk took care of him . Husk stayed here with him while he slept. He’s here, with Husk, resting. Husk, Husk, Husk…

The other man is lounging on the floor, his ankles crossed, watching something on his cellphone which he holds above his head. On his chest, Fat Nuggets is lounging on top of him, his little head resting right above Husk’s heart, his tiny legs spread airplane style across Husk’s body. 

It might be the cutest thing Angel’s ever seen. Very slowly, so as not to make a sound, he slides his cellphone off the night stand and opens the camera, pointing it at the two of them.

Unfortunately, he forgot to turn the flash off. The moment he snaps the picture Husk sits up in alarm, startled and blinking. Nuggs goes sliding off his chest and let’s out a disgruntled snort, but seeing Angel is awake, happily hops up onto the bed to greet him.

Husk scowls at Angel.

“Delete it,” he says, flatly.

“Aw c’mon,” Angel pouts. “I promise I won’t post it anywhere.”

“No, but your still gonna show it to Charlie and Cherri and everyone else you see in the next 48 hours,” Husk grumbles.

Angel tries for his best puppy dog eyes. Husk stares at him in silence, looking unamused, before finally sighing, defeated, hauling himself to his feet.

“Yer lucky you look so damn pitiful right now,” he growls. Angel laughs, but it quickly turns into a cough, and he has to pause for several seconds to hack into his elbow.

He catches Husk’s concerned expression out of the corner of his eye, and tries to wave him off.

“M’ fine,” he wheezes, struggling to catch his breath. “Jus’ quit makin’ me laugh.”

That earns him a small smile, though Husk still looks worried.

“S’ lunchtime,” he says, “do you feel like eating?”

At the mention of food, Angel’s stomach rumbles. What was that old expression? Feed a cold, starve a fever? He wasn’t sure what you were supposed to do when you had both, but he decided to listen to his growling stomach.

“ Yes ,” he says, stressing the word and Husk chuckles.

“Good. How bout’ we start with some soup?”

Angel frowns. “Just soup?” He pouts. “But I’m  hungry.”

Husk rolls his eyes. “Okay, well how about we start with soup and if your stomach feels alright I’ll bring you something else.”

Angel crosses his arms, huffing. “Fine,” he relents, “but if it stays down I want candy. And maybe some cake. And also french fries.”

Husk laughs, a real, loud, genuine laugh that’s much different from his typical chuckle. It transforms his whole face, and makes him look so carefree and open and gorgeous and holy fuck he has is Bad for this man.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Husk says, shaking his head and smiling. Angel doesn’t trust himself to respond, so he just pulls his legs in towards his chest in an effort to calm the sudden buzzing, erratic energy that’s filled his chest. He watches as Husk grabs a can of soup from Charlie’s little care basket. ‘I’ll have to thank her for that somehow,’Angel thinks to himself. Maybe he’d make his Ma’s Alfredo for her again that she’d liked so much.

“I’ll be right back,” Husk says, heading towards the door to go heat up the soup. On the way out, he looks over his shoulder at Nuggs, whose seated happily on Angel’s lap.

“You make sure he stays in bed,” he says to Nuggs, pointing two fingers at his own eyes, then at Fat Nuggets, who blinks.

Angel rolls his eyes, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

After Husk leaves, Angel grabs his phone and unlocks it. His pulse quickens as he sees he has several missed messages from Val. He swallows thickly, and forces himself to open them. The first several are typical. “Where the fuck r u, Why r u Late, Angel I swear to fuck you better get your ass over here…” Etcetera. But the last text catches Angel’s eye.

“ Heard Alastor is buying u out 4 the week. Don’t mess up ur face, I need u back here to make up missed shoots asap.”

Angel takes a deep breath. Husk’s idea seems to have worked. Val definitely wasn’t pleased about having to reschedule stuff, but Alastor’s favor seemed to have pacified him enough for now. Val would think he was off committing murder for hire. Which, honestly, if given the choice, Angel thinks he might prefer over being at the studio.

He sets his phone down and reaches for his laptop. If he’s stuck in bed he may as well watch a movie. He scrolls through his options, contemplating, avoiding anything he hasn’t already seen. He didn’t want to have to pause every time his nose decided to act up, and besides, he didn’t know if his fever riddled brain could keep up with a plot he didn’t already know.

Speaking of. He feels the back of his nose start to prickle. He fumbles for a tissue and blows, hoping this will alleviate the buzzing, but it just makes it worse. Nuggs snorts in protest as Angel’s chest begins to hitch, disturbing the pig who’d been lounging on his lap.

“S~ huh ~orry Nuggs,” he manages to get out, his voice rising in pitch before-

“Hah-tchu! Heh-Hehtchu! HaH-chu! Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahh-chu! AHH-chu! Ehhh…EH-tchu! EHchu! HeH-chew!”

About halfway through the fit, he vaguely registers Husk re-entering the room. He cracks one eye open in acknowledgement before he has to squeeze them shut and double over again—

“Heshuu! Isshu! Igxchu! Hxgt-chu! Egxt-chuh! Hahhh…Hah-chew! Heh-chiu! AH-chiu!”

He does his best to stifle with Husk now in the room, but is fairly unsuccessful.

“Jesus,” he hears Husk say, and he feels his face turn bright red, all the way up to his ears. He opts to keep his face buried in the tissue for a moment.

“I leave ya alone for 2 minutes,” Husk tsks, shaking his head as he sets down the bowl of soup he’s carrying.

“I was fine ubntil you showbed ubp,” Angel says, scowling at Husk from behind a wad of tissues, his voice still stuffed up from the fit. “Bmaybe I’mb allergic to you.”

Husk roles his eyes, but Angel swears he sees his cheeks turn pink. He’s been acting kind of odd all day, getting all flustered at weird times. Angel resolves to press him about it later. He doesn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing and being left without company; the only thing worse than being sick is being sick and alone.

Angel starts to reach for the bowl of soup, but Husk stops him.

“Hold on,” the other man says, and Angel groans in frustration. 

“I’m starving,” he moan, and Husk chuckles.

“I know, I know, just, one second. Let me take your temperature real quick. I can’t do it when your mouth is full.”

Angel opens his mouth to make a lewd comment about his mouth being full—

“Do NOT.” Husk cuts him off before he can even get a word in. Angel scoffs.

“You don’ even know what I was gonna say!”

Husk shoots him a glare.

“You were gonna make some stupid joke about your mouth being full, now open.” He hold the thermometer in front of Angel’s face. At that Angel smirks.

“Anything for you daddy,” he slurs, and takes great pleasure in watching Husk’s eye twitch. His satisfaction is short lived however as Husk shoves the thermometer under his tongue without warming, sending him spluttering and coughing.

“Wat da fucq wa dat fow!” he yells around the thermometer, and it’s Husks turn to smirk.

“You wouldn’t shut up so I shut you up,” he says with a chuckle. “Now stop talking, let it get a reading.”

Angel crosses his arms over his chest in a pout, but complies, waiting the a few moments before the thermometer beeps. He tries to reach for it but Husk beats him too it, snatching it out of his mouth before Angel’s sluggish brain can even comprehend what’s happened.

“I can do it myself,” Angel snaps, annoyed, though his voice lacks any real bite. Husk narrows his eyes.

“So you can bullshit me? No way I trust you to tell me what it really says.”

Angel huffs at this, but doesn’t say anything, knowing Husk’s right, he probably would’ve lied to him and downplayed whatever the result was.

“102.3,” Husk says, frowning at the thermometer. “M’ surprised you’re even coherent right now.”

“I feel a lot better than I did,” Angel protests, trying to reassure him. “The meds and the nap helped a lot.”

Husk raises one eyebrow, looking unconvinced, but shrugs.

“Still,” he says, “I should monitor you every few hours or so. If it gets any higher we might need to take you to the hospital.”

“The hospital in hell,” Angel snorts. “That’s an oxymoron.”

Husk sighs, looking frustrated. “I know,” he grumbles. “Service there kinda sucks. But maybe if we bring Charlie in with us she’ll get you some real attention.”

Angel instantly shakes his head. “I don’ wanna bother her with all that,” he protests. Husk appears to pick up on the slight panic in his voice, and jumps to reassure him.

“Relax,” he says, “M’ not sayin’ it’ll come to that, just wanna have a game plan in case.”

“I think I’ll be jus’ fine here,” Angel says, chuckling a little, “really. I already got you fussin’ over me like an overbearing mama.”

He watches as Husk’s face pales a little. He takes a hesitant step back from Angel’s bedside, his expression becoming withdrawn and closed off.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to…suffocate you or anything. M’ sorry if I was—I can give you some space if that’s what—“

“No!” Angel says, voice coming out all panicked and horse. “No, that wasn’t—Ah, fuck, that came out wrong, I didn’t mean…”

He stops himself from rambling, taking a deep breath to calm down. He needs to make sure he gets this right.

“I definitely didn’t mean I wan’ you to leave. That’s not—What I meant was, you’ve taken such good care of me. I haven’t—no one’s done anything like this fa’ me in so long…not since my own Ma I don’t think.” Angel feels his cheeks turning pink, but he forces himself to press on. “You been so kind and-and caring and sweet and…ChristHusk I don’ even think I deserve how nice you been to me today but I sure as hell don’t want you to stop . I was tryna say thank you but I just…it got all jumbled up an’ didn’t come out right, I’m sorry, I want you here, really, please don’t—“

Husk cuts him off by placing a gentle hand on Angel’s knee.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry okay?” Husk says, bringing a tissue up to wipe Angel’s face. Angel brings a hand to his cheek and sure enough, there’s a few tears running down his face. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Jus’ stop talkin’, you’ll wreck your voice,” Husk murmurs, gently swiping under Angel’s eyes as he blinks back tears, his neck hot with embarrassment. He opens his mouth to apologize and keep explaining but Husk shushes him.

“You ain’t gotta say anything else,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. “I understand, m’ not gonna leave. Sorry for…jumping to conclusions, I ain’t done this in a while either.” His own face heats up a little and he chuckles nervously. “Don’t think I’ve…taken care of anyone since before I died actually. Never really bothered makin’ friends or anything down here. Till now.”

This comment makes Angel’s blush 10 times worse, but he feels the anxiety in his chest start to fade. He isn’t really sure what to say, scared if he opens his mouth his feverish brain will just spew more stupid shit, so they sit there in slightly awkward silence for a moment.

Finally, Husk clears his throat, his face still red from his previous admission. 

“Y’ should eat your soup,” he mumbles, eyes cast at the floor, looking nervous. “Said you were hungry.”

At the reminder of food, Angel’s stomach grumbles, loudly, and Husk laughs as he greedily reaches for the soup on his bedside table. It’s in a big mug, so it’s easy to hold in bed, and Angel forces himself to sip it slowly so he doesn’t burn his tongue. For canned soup, it’s pretty damn good, and he hums happily as warmth soothes his throat and spreads through his body.

Unwilling to stop drinking his soup, Angel points at his laptop and tries to communicate with his mouth full.

“Mm mm mm-mm mmmm mmm?” He hums, while still drinking, pointing at his laptop again for effect. Husk raises his eye brows and gives him a look. Angel huffs, annoyed, and forced himself to swallow and set the soup down.

“I said , do you wanna watch a movie?” he clarifies, and Husk laughs. 

“How was I supposed to get that from humming and pointing?” he chuckles, and Angel just shrugs, already sipping his soup again. Husk shakes his head in disbelief, smiling.

Sure,” he agrees, and peers to look at Angel’s screen. 

“D’you pick one out yet?” He asks, and Angel shakes his head. 

Husk hums nonchalantly in response and fishes around in his pocket, pulling out his glasses. He slips them on and begins scrolling through Angel’s list of recommended’s and fuck , Angel had forgotten how ridiculously fucking cute Husk looked in those things. 

Husks eyes flick up from the screen and catch him staring. He tries to pretend to be really concentrated on his soup (which isn’t a total lie, it’s very good and he’s very hungry). 

“What’s the one you were givin’ me shit about the other day?” Husk asks, looking up as though trying to recall.

Angel gapes. He puts his soup down on the nightstand with a slam. He can’t believe he forgot about this. Stupid fever brain. He takes a deep breath in preparation for the tirade he’s about to go on. 

“Last week,” he begins, and he sees Husk already rolling his eyes, “you asked me if I was gonna shower because you didn’t wanna shower after me and have no hot water. And I said ‘no, I’m not showering, I just got a perm, you can’t shower after a perm, haven’t you ever seen Legally Blonde?’ And You —

“Fuckin’ hell,” Husk mutters.

“—said NO!” Angel finishes, his disbelief and barley containable outrage resurfacing. “Who hasn’t seen Legally Blonde? I asked you as a joke, I literally cannot believe—“

“I thought you were serious!” Husk cuts in. “So I answered honestly! God fucking damnit, if I could take it back—“

Angel isn’t hearing it, and soon they’re talking over one another. 

“It was a fucking cinematic masterpiece, one of the first ever groundbreaking feminist films of the 20th century—“

“Will you quit quoting the wiki page like a dumbass—“

“And not only had you not seen it but you hadn’t even HEARD of it until I brought it up—“

“How are dead people supposed to keep up with every single new film that comes out while we’re stuck down here—“

“And I knew you’d use that excuse so I polled everyone at dinner that night and—

“I still can’t believe you fucking did that, it was so fucking childish—“

“ALL of them had seen the movie, even fucking Alastor, who HATES television—“

“No one else was making as big a deal out of it as you were—“

“Charlie agrees that it’s a HUGE deal—“

“Charlie thinks everything is a huge deal, last week she bought you a present for your half birthday—“

“I can’t believe I’m still friends with you Knowing that you haven’t seen this movie—“

Angel has to pause his rant, breaking into a coughing fit that wracks his whole frame. He was already low on air from half shouting at Husk and he struggles to catch his breath, hearing his chest wheeze with every shaky inhale.

Husk, bless his soul, is instantly by his side, rubbing his back and getting ready with water, looking worried.

Angel takes the glass from him with shaking hands and drinks, grateful for the help.

“See what you put me through,” he croaks, trying to ease Husk’s anxious expression with a joke. Husk huffs, looking unamused, but some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

“Only you could give yourself an asthma attack after loosing your shit with me for having not seen a movie that came out 30 years after I died and somehow make it my fault,” he grouches, but his tone is teasing and gentle.

“I’m one of a kind,” Angel responds meekly, voice still horse, suddenly feeling very tired. Husk gives him a soft smile.

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” he suggests, and Angel forces himself to perk up, crossing his arms.

“No way,” he says firmly. “We are watching Legally Blonde, right now. I’m putting an end to this nonsense if it kills me.”

Husk snorts, but complies, fetching the laptop from where he’d been searching through it on the end of the bed. He hands it to Angel, who pulls up the movie and positions the computer in the middle of the bed beside his knees. When he looks up, he sees Husk over by his vanity,  picking up the little stool Angel typically sat on to do his make up. He begins carrying it over. Angel realizes what the other man was intending and he makes face.

“Yer gonna sit on that uncomfortable lil’ stool for the whole damn movie?” He scoffed. “It’s so short, you won’ even be able to see.”

Husk shrugged, seeming unbothered.  “S’ okay,” he said, “It’s not that short.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Angel says. “ You are so short, you won’t be able to see.”

Husk hit him with one of his pillows.

“Aye!” Angel exclaims, giggling. “S’ just the truth!”

“You’re insufferable,” Husk growls.

“Jus’ come up here,” Angel says, patting the bed beside him.

At this suggestion, Husk’s face instantly changes, and once again, Angel cursed his big mouth. How could he just blurt that out? He’d  overstepped Husk’s boundaries so many times; back before they became friends Angel was downright…well, yes, insufferable . 

He’d been slowly learning how to drop the flirty, lustful ‘Angel Dust’ persona that he’d worn as a mask (and a shield) for most of his time in hell. He no longer threw himself at Husk, or many other people for that matter. But knowing how he used to behave…not only did it make him want to crawl into a hole and Die , but it made him all the more determined to tread carefully and Not screw anything else up with one of the only people who’d been willing to give him a second chance.

“That wasn’t—fuck,” Angel says, eloquently.

“No, it’s okay—“ Husk begins, but Angel cuts in, his voice rushed as he tries to amend his previous words.

“I didn’t mean like. You know. I just figured. Only if you want to. I know I’m all sick and gross, I can put pillows between us, or we can get an armchair from downstairs, or watch on the TV in the living room, though I don’t want to get my germs all over the couch down there—“

“I’ll sit on the bed,” Husk cut him off, saving him from his rambling.

Angel blinks. 

“I—really?”

Husk shrugs, as if trying to appear nonchalant. He wasn’t succeeding, which Angel found super cute. 

“Sure. I mean, as long as you’re okay with it,” he mumbles, fiddling the fabric of his pant leg. 

Angel almost makes a joke about how he’s been wanting to get Husk in his bed for months, but restrains himself. Husk looks nervous enough as it is. 

“Fine by me,” he says cooly, scooting over to make room. 

Husk quickly walks around the to the other side and hops up, as if trying to get the whole awkward process over as quickly as possible. He sinks down beside Angel, on top of the covers, and his posture is stiff as a board. 

“Hey,” Angel says softly, and Husk’s eyes flick over to his. “We really don’t need to do this if you don’t want too. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

Husk let’s out a sigh, shaking his head a little. 

“No, no, I’m not,” he assures Angel, looking frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m actin’ so fuckin’ weird, people do this kinda shit all the time, it’s dumb for me to sit anywhere else, I just…” 

He trails off, seeming unsure how to finish his own sentence. Angel’s instinct is to put a hand on his arm, but he stops himself. 

“Maybe it would be a little dumb,” he concedes, a small smile playing at his lips. “But if that’s what you wanna do, that’s what we’ll do.”

Husk finally meets his eyes, and he looks much more relaxed than he did a moment ago. Angel mentally cheers for himself. It seems like he’s finally said the right thing for once.

“I think I’ll stay here,” Husk says, and Angel mentally cheers louder. 

“Sides’,” Husk says slyly, “you’re the dumb one, not me.”

Angel scowls at him. “Just play the movie bitch.” 

Husk chuckles, and with him so close Angel can feel how the sound vibrates through the other man’s body. It’s genuinely unfair what the sound does to him, making his insides feel like warm honey. 

Husk leans forward and presses play on the laptop sitting between them. He has to scoot up a bit because he’s so fucking short and Angel resists the urge to giggle. He also tries his hardest to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as Husk moves backwards again, this time happening to settle in a little closer to Angel than before, so their arms are just barley touching.

Husk rolls his shoulders a bit and stretch’s his legs out in front of him as he leans back against the mound of pillows with one arm behind his head, trying to get comfy. The movement is so casual and relaxed that Angel finds himself staring. How is it, he wonders, that he fucks people for a living, sees them bent in all sorts of erotic shapes and positions, yet one little role of Husk’s shoulders and his mouth has suddenly gone dry? 

“Pay attention,” Husk mutters, smirking, indicating that he’s caught him staring. “I’m told this is one of the greatest movies of all time.”

Angel feels himself blush, and hopes that Husk will assume it’s from the fever. 

“Who told you that?” He shoots back, playing it off, adjusting slightly to make himself more comfy. “They sound smart.”

Husk laughs, another loud, genuine one, that rumbles in his chest, and Angel knows he’ll be replaying the sound over and over in his head.

 

I know there’s not as much sneezing in this part, but hopefully you all still enjoyed all the caretaking and fluff. Part 5 coming soon!

[Alabaster]

I’m not even part of this fandom and I’m hooked! 

[coolbeans18]

23 hours ago, Alabaster said:

I’m not even part of this fandom and I’m hooked! 

I’m so glad your enjoying! More coming soon:) and I highly recommend the show, it’s on prime if you have it:) 

[coolbeans18]

WhOOwhOO! New chapter! A bit long, but good (I hope). Much more sneezing in this one:) Comments always appreciated, let me know what you like and what you’re hoping for! enjoy! 

A Little Less Terrible / Part 5

Okay. So the movie was really fucking good. When it opened at a sorority house Husk was apprehensive, but now he was fully invested. Well, as fully invested as one could be when there was a drop dead gorgeous man sitting right beside you. 

Angel could tell he was enjoying it, much to Husk’s chagrin. He kept shooting him sideway’s smirks that he thought Husk wasn’t aware of. In reality, Husk was hyper aware of every single small movement Angel made. Every tiny shift or little sniffle made Husk’s breath catch in his throat. Still, he tried his hardest to concentrate on the film.

About ten minutes in, he remembered something. 

“Hey,” he said, turning to Angel, “how’s your stomach?”

Angel raises an eyebrow. “S’ fine, no nausea or anythin’. Just a stupid cold.” 

Husk smiles, reaching into his pocket and pulls out—

“Candy!” Angel squeals, right in his ear, and Husk jerks back, wincing. 

“Jesus Christ Angel,” he grumbles,and Angel laughs, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” he says in a hushed tone. “Jus’ can’t believe you remembered.”

“Couldn’t find cake or french fries unfortunately,” Husk says, opening the candy and handing it to Angel who kicks his feet a little under the covers in excitement and immediately pops one in his mouth. 

“Mmmm, no dis’ is perfect,” he murmurs around a mouthful of sweets, and Husk grins, reaching over to take one for himself. Angel yanks the bag away.

“Nuh-uh!” He exclaims. “These are mine!”

Husk scoffs. “I brought them for you!” He says, reaching over and managing to snatch one this time as Angel’s movements are pretty sluggish at the moment. 

Angel glares at him. “Fine,” he says, looking unhappy, “you may have One.”

“I’ll have as many as I damn well please,” Husk shoots back, snagging a second before Angel’s fevered brain can even register the movement. 

“Hey!” He grouches.  “Tha’s no fair! If I wasn’t sick I’da had my knife to your throat so fast.”

“Lucky me,” Husk hummed, snatching another one. Angel huffed, but relented, setting the bag between the two of them. 

“Don’ get used to this,” he mumbles angrily. “I ain’t eva’ sharin’ with ya again afta’ this.”

His accent becomes heavier when he’s mad and Husk would be lying if he said he didn’t find it adorable. 

“Oh quit poutin’ Legs,” he says laughing. “I’ll leave plenty for ya’.” 

They settle in again, munching on candy and watching the film.

“Any chance the reason ya’ like this movie so much is cuz’ the main character is a sassy blonde who wears tons of pink and is way smarter than most people give her credit for?” Husk asks, glancing over at Angel.

Angel smirks. “Did ya’ just call me smart? Thought I was the dumb one.”

Husk scowls. “Who says you can’t be both? You are the dumbest smart person I know.”

Angel nudges him with his shoulder. “Fuck off,” he says, but he’s giggling. “Jus’ watch, you’ll miss good parts.”

Husk complies, falling silent. They don’t talk much, save for Angel’s occasional light commentary. 

“Ugh, Vivian is such a fuckin’ bitch.”

“I wish Jennifer Coolidge was my hair dresser. Can you imagine me goin’ with her to get the dog back? I’d shoot her ex so many times.”

“I think it should be illegal for men ta’ be lawyers. Among otha’ things.”

Husk normally hated when people talked through movies but with Angel he found he didn’t mind. His commentary was funny and quick and…cute. 

About halfway through, Husk notices Angel starting to crash. His eyelids grow droopy and he keeps blinking a bunch, trying to stay awake. Husk almost suggests he go back to sleep, then thinks better of it. Angel would just protest and push himself even harder to stay awake; better to let him just fall asleep in front of the movie on his own. 

The more tired he grew, the worse his cold seemed to get as well. This worried Husk. The DayQuil from the morning wasn’t supposed to wear off for another 6 hours. Angel must just be getting worse as the day wore on. On the bright side, his fever did seem to have gone down a bit. His skin was noticeably cooler against Husk’s fur, which made Husk feel a bit better. He’d rather Angel’s fever be down even if his cold symptoms were getting worse.

Speaking of. Husk risked a glance at Angel as the other man burrowed deeper into the blankets with an exhausted sounding sniffle. His nose was a painful looking shade of red and he scrubbed at it with his wrist. The poor kid really did look miserable. 

Five minutes later, Husk felt Angel shift beside him. 

“~heh~”

Oh fuck. ‘Be normal,’ Husk thought to himself, trying to laser focus on the film and ignore what was happening beside him. It would’ve been a lot easier if he couldn’t feel every single hitch of Angel’s breath. 

“Ehhhh…hheehh…”

Angel’s breathing grows more urgent; and he struggles to sit up, his arms shaking slightly. Husk watches, his chest pounding and aching at the same time. He should not be getting any kind of pleasure from this…Angel looks like he feels awful. 

He forces himself to take a breath. Meanwhile, beside him, Angel manages to get into a sitting position. He fumbles for Husk’s blue handkerchief in his pajama pockets. It must be pretty used up by now, and it doesn’t appear to be in Angel’s pocket anyway. Husk watches as the other man gets a slightly panicked look on his face.

Reaching into his own pocket, Husk pulls out his fresh hanky. He extends it to Angel, but the other man’s eyes have fluttered closed as his breathing becomes more erratic.

Husk opts to just awkwardly place the handkerchief in Angel’s hand.

Angel manages to crack his eyes open.

“Ahhh…hah-th~hh~anks,” Angel manages to get out, bringing the hanky to his twitching nose and turns his head away from Husk.

“Eh…etch! IsSH! Heh-gxcht! Hatgxch!”

Even with his head turned away, Husk can see Angel’s face (annnddd maybe he was leaning forward just slightly to look). There’s a crease in the middle of his forehead and his eyebrows are scrunched together; he’s in visible pain, trying to stifle the sneezes.

“Hey, jus’ let em’ out okay?” Husk murmurs, trying very hard to keep his voice steady. “I can tell it hurts.”

Angel cracks one eye open to glance at him, tears pooling in the corner from the fit. He shuts them again immediately, taking a sharp inhale and—

“Heh…het-CHU! AH-CHU! Ehhh-EhCHU! Heh-chuu! Ihhh…Ish-SHU! Aht-chu! Hahhh…Hahchu! Hehchu!”

They're bigger than usual, and Angel’s whole body shakes with each one. Christ, Husk can feel every single sneeze with Angel right beside him. He clenches his teeth and forces himself to sit still. The first few are pretty loud, at least for Angel, and slowly get softer as the fit dies down and he runs out of air. He’s wheezing at the end of it, something Husk has come to anticipate from the other man; the congestion seems to be in his chest just as much as his nose, making it harder and harder for him to breathe as it progresses. Seeing him struggle to catch his breath, Husk grabs several pillows and stacks them behind Angel’s back, propping him up.

“M’ fine,” Angel wheezes feebly, his body sinking back against the pillows, looking spent. 

“My god kid,” Husk murmurs, everything in him wanting to wrap Angel in another hug. “M’ sorry you feel so shitty.”

Angel just shrugs, blinking sleepily. “S’ nobt so bad,” he says, his voice horse and stuffy. “I gobt candy. Andb Legally Blonde. N’ you.”

Husk resists the urge to plant his face in the pillows and scream every curse word he knows while pounding his fists into the mattress. Angel is making it painfully difficult to behave like a normal human being. Who the fuck does he think he is, laying there next to him all pitiful and adorable looking, saying stupid, sweet shit that makes Husk’s insides buzz like he swallowed electricity. 

He settles for grabbing a fistful of the comforter and taking a deep breath.

The movie continues to play and Husk watches Angel grow sleepier and sleepier until finally, he dozes off. His breathing is still pretty labored, but he looks peaceful enough. Husk figures he should pause the movie; it was more enjoyable to watch it with Angel anyway. He starts to lean forward and reach for the space bar, but before he can even move an inch, Angel’s head suddenly pulls to the side, his temple ending up right against Husk’s forearm. Husk stiffens, unsure how to react to the sudden physical contact. He peeks down and notes that Angel is still asleep, out cold with his mouth hanging open and lightly snoring. Husk forces himself to relax a bit, and resigns himself to sitting still and letting the movie play. He hopes Angel won’t be too upset that he opted to finish it on his own…Husk doesn’t have the heart to move and risk waking him. 

The film reaches its climax and Husk can’t keep the stupid smile off his face as he watches the scene Angel referenced last week that sparked their initial argument. Husk still didn’t fully understand what a perm was, but now he knew you were NEVER supposed to shower after one. At some point, Angel has loosely wrapped an arm around Husk’s in his sleep, probably chasing his warmth. Husk chooses to keep his eyes glued to the screen, not trusting what he’ll do if he thinks too hard about the fact that the two of them are basically cuddling. 

As the credits begin to roll, Husk feels Angel shift beside him. He glances down to see the other man slowly opening his eyes, blinking blearily. It might be the cutest thing Husk’s ever seen. 

It takes Angel a moment to regain any real awareness of his surroundings. He frowns a little, and scrunches up his nose as if it itches, which it probably does. Husk can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Finally, Angel looks up at him. As he meets Husk’s eyes, he gets this dopey smile on his face, and fucking hell it is NOT helpful in Husks effort to calm his own nerves. Suddenly, Angel appears to realize where he is; laying with his head on Husk’s shoulder and two of his arms wrapped around the other man’s bicep. 

His eyes go wide and his face drains of all color. He jolts back, as if someone shocked him, sitting straight as a board and hugging his own arms close to his body. 

“Fuck,” he says, and his voice is barley above a whisper now. “Oh fuck, ah hell, Husk, I wasn’t…I didn’t…Fuck, I’m so sorry, it was an accident, I swear—“ He’s cut off by his own coughing, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Hey, no,” Husk jumps in, fumbling for the glass of water on the nightstand and offering it to the other man. He can’t help it, he puts a gentle arm around the kids shoulders and rubs up and down, trying to ease his shaking. “M’ not upset at all Angie, you jus’ fell asleep, s’ okay, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Angel takes the water and gulps it down, taking a huge gasp for air at the end. “You’re jus’ always so careful,” he chokes out, still not fully recovered from the coughing fit. “With me, I mean. With askin’ permission before you touch me an’…an’ that means so much ta’ me cuz I don’ get that at work, and I’m tryin’ to be extra careful with you, I know you ain’t big on bein’ touched and with how I used to…you know, before, when I would…I was just an’ asshole to you, always throwin’ myself at you cuz I thought that’s what everyone…s’ what was es’pected a’ me, and I know I made you uncomfortable—“

“Jesus Angel,” Husk cuts in, unable to take the sound of the man’s voice anymore; talking sounds so painful for him. “Shut up a second would ya, you’re gonna loose yer voice.” Angel’s face turns a bit pink, and he closes his mouth, taking another small sip of water. In that moment he looks so small, and Husk desperately wants to show him just how much he doesn’t mind what happened. Instead, he meets the Angel’s eyes. 

“That was real nice, all that stuff you said,” he mutters, feeling his own face turn a little pink. “I get why you’re…why yer tryin’ to be careful with me. But it’s not touch that I mind so much, least not from you…not anymore. Before, it just pissed me off that you…that ya’ jus’ saw me as some other…potential client. That ya’ couldn’t turn off the fake flirty bullshit. M’ not really…into…porn or…or sex ya’ have to pay for. Call me old fashioned I guess.”

Husk was genuinely nauseated, sharing these kinds of details, but he wanted to make sure Angel understood; that he wouldn’t feel any worse than he already did. He forced himself to keep going. 

“I knew you weren’t ever gonna actually do anything. But it jus’ made me mad that you kept up the act n’ wouldn’t be real with me. But now I know you weren’t doin’ it to be a dick. You didn’t actually wanna get in my pants, you were just…you really couldn’t turn it off whenever ya’ wanted. And now…well, now ya’ hardly ever pull that shit with me, an’ I really like…” 

Husk feels his cheeks heat up. 

“I like who you are when you ain’t pretendin’ to be that version of yourself you invented to… to keep yourself safe. So you don’t…”

Husk trails off for a moment, realizing he’s been rambling. Fuck, he’s so bad at this kinda thing, but the poor kid had looked like he was gonna hyperventilate, Husk couldn’t say nothing. 

“You don’ gotta worry about…about little stuff like accidentally fallin’ asleep on me or…or sittin’ beside me or whatever,” he mumbles. “I forgivin’ you fer…for all that old stuff, so…you should…forgive yourself too.  Or whatever.” 

Husk cringes internally. That sounded so cheesy and sappy when he’d said it out loud. Angel sniffles, and Husk risks a glance up at him. He sees tears pooling in the corners of the other man’s eyes.

“Christ Husk,” Angel croaks, reaching up to wipe his tears before they can fall, “you’re makin’ me cry over here.”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do—” Husk begins, feeling alarmed, cursing himself for saying such stupid shit—

“No,” Angel cuts in, and he’s laughing a bit now. Husk's shoulders relax a little. “No,” Angel says again, shaking his head and sniffling some more, “s’ a good kinda crying. Sorry I’m jus’ kinda…an emotional wreck when I’m sick.” 

“You don’t gotta apologize,” Husk scoffs, feeling relieved. “I thought I said the wrong thing or…or somethin’. I’m jus’ not always…good with…words,” he finishes lamely, and Angel cracks up, coughing a little in between bouts of laughter.

“Yeah no kiddin’,” he says, cackling, and Husk scowls at him.

“I think that was the most I’ve eva’ heard ya’ talk Whiskers,” Angel says, still laughing. 

 Husk looks away, blushing. “Yeah well,” he mumbles. “You were sayin’ stupid shit, please as per usual. Had ta’ shut ya’ up.”

Angel snorts, and glances at the laptop. 

"Ya finish the movie?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Husk admits. “Sorry. I wanted to pause but you were…ya’ know.”

Angel chuckles, leaning forward a bit and propping his head up on his arm. “S’ okay. I’m just glad you’ve finally seen it.”

Husk mimics the other man’s pose, stretching out on his side so that he’s eye level with him. They talk back and forth quietly, Angel interrogating Husk about his favorite parts of the movie, asking him if he liked the ending. Eventually the conversation drifts to other movies and shows. There’s a lot Husk hasn’t seen, and Angel makes him take out his phone and begin a list of things they “have” to watch together. Husk, despite having not watched much television since his death, is appalled that Angel has never seen M*A*S*H. That was his favorite show from his time on earth, and he adds it to the list. 

Eventually, Angel starts to sound a little incoherent. Slurring his speech, dropping syllables, seeming unable to follow the conversation. Husk checks his temperature again, and his worry is confirmed; Angel’s fever has gone back up, hovering around 103. It’s not time for more meds yet, but Husk decides to give him another half dose, hoping that’s the right call. 

As Angel takes the medicine, Husk gets up and puts the laptop away, getting the bed ready so Angel can go back to sleep. The poor kid's eyes are already starting to droop again after just a half hour of talking. He’s begun to shiver occasionally too, and Husk winces at how rapidly his condition has gone from bad to worse. He vows that if Angel hasn’t begun improving by tonight, he’ll take him to the hospital. 

“Angie.”

Husk whirls around at the sound of Angel’s voice; it’s so horse he almost missed it. 

“Huh?” He responds, brow furrowing in confusion, thinking he must’ve misheard.

“Y’ called me Angie,” Angel says from the bed, blinking sleepily, “before. When you were…tryin’ to calm me down.”

Husk feels his shoulders relax a little. He makes his way over to the bed, returning to his previous spot beside the other man and settling in next to him. 

“Did I? Yeah, I guess I did. I don’ know, it jus’ slipped out. What about it?”

Angel gives a small shrug, sniffling a little. 

“I liked it,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady as another bout of chills hit him, making his small frame tremble. “Don’ think anyone’s eva’ called me that before.”

Husk offers him a small smile. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll keep callin’ ya that then. Angie.”

Angel giggles, likely a little loopy from the fever, but the sound makes Husk’s heart skip a beat all the same. 

Angel gives a sudden inhale, and barely has time to get his wrist up to cover his nose before—

“Isshuh! Isshuu! Ehhh…Ehhshu!”

He directs them down at the comforter instead of trying to twist away, and he doesn’t stifle. The rising fever seems to at least be providing him with less self-consciousness. He gives a little shake of his head in the aftermath of the tiny fit, blinking blearily. These sneezes are small, almost dainty, and they send butterflies fluttering around in Husk’s stomach. Worry overshadows any other feelings however, as Husk notes that the wheeze in Angel’s breathing seems to be getting worse. 

Angel pulls the comforter further up his body, snuggling down so that just his eyes peek out. Husk resists the urge to chuckle. 

“Fugck off,” Angel says, scowling at him, though only his eyes are visible. “I’mb c-c-cold.” As if proving his own point, Husk sees him shiver, sniffling. 

“C’mere then.”

Fuuuck. Husk had not meant to say that out loud. Angel was supposed to be the one with the runaway mouth. Husk didn’t have a fever; he didn’t have anything to fall back on. Angel just looked so cold and pitiful and uncomfortable, Husk couldn’t keep it from slipping out. He’d only wanted to help and now he might’ve made everything worse.

He can’t bring himself to look at  Angel, fearing whatever expression he’ll find there. Christ, they had just talked about boundaries and made some progress, feeling more at ease around one another, and now he’s gone and—

“Are you sure?”

Angel's voice cuts off the doomsday dialogue in his head and Husk’s eyes shoot up. 

Angel is looking at him with an expression he can’t place. It doesn’t appear to be one of discomfort exactly, but more…apprehension? He’s fiddling with Husk’s handkerchief nervously and peaking up at him through his bangs. His eyes meet Husk’s, and they remind Husk of coffee and quiet Sunday mornings. 

“I am if you are,” he hears himself say, not fully believing he had the courage to say the words coming out of his mouth. 

And Angel smiles. A soft, safe and almost shy smile, something Husk has never seen before, and he suddenly feels so silly for being afraid. If he’d have known his offer would make Angel look at him like that he would’ve done this ages ago. 

He slowly pulls back the covers and climbs underneath them, careful not to touch Angel just yet. He sits there for a moment, letting them both adjust to the feeling, making absolutely sure that they’re both still comfortable. Husk half expected himself to start freaking out a little at this point, but he feels oddly calm. 

“S’ this okay?” He asks Angel, and the other man is watching him, looking almost transfixed. He nods, not taking his eyes off of Husk’s. 

Carefully, Husk moves in a little closer, so that their knees are touching. Beside him, Angel exhales, slowly, the slight wheeze in his chest still evident and his teeth still chattering slightly. Husk feels like someone’s poking at his heart with push pins, seeing the man beside him so vulnerable and ill. He gently opens his arms, deciding to let Angel be the one to come to him, if he wants too.

For just a moment, Angel hesitates. “Y-you…you're s-sure you’re o-okay with this?” He asks softly, his voice shaking just a bit from chills. “Y-you…you’re positive?” 

“Yes,” Husk says, without missing a beat, “I am.”

That’s all Angel needs. He instantly wraps his arms around Husk’s torso and pulls himself in close, shuddering as he worms his way as close as possible. Husk’s arms seem to move on their own, wrapping around Angel’s shivering frame as if by muscle memory. 

Angel immediately gives a shaky exhale of relief. 

“Mby god Husk you’re so warmb,” he mumbles sleepily, burrowing his head in the other man’s chest, his shivering slowly ebbing. 

Husk chuckles at this, finding it so fucking adorable it hurts. 

“M’ glad,” he responds and Angel hums happily, his eyes already slipping closed as all the tension seems to leave his body, Husk’s embrace seeming to instantly warm and relax him. 

‘I’m doing that,’ Husk thinks, feeling equal parts pride and childish giddiness at the fact that it’s his embrace bringing Angel so much relief and satisfaction. He has the urge to kick his feet like a school girl but he forces himself to remain very, very still, as Angel has already begun snoring. 

Minutes pass, and Husk imagined he too would eventually start to drift off, what with there being nothing else to do while he lay here, trapped under Angel’s sleeping form.

But he is wide awake. Every inhale and exhale from the man in his arms has the hair on his arms standing up, his own heartbeat audible in his ears. He can’t help it; he hasn’t been this close to anyone in…well, since before he died. The feeling is practically brand new, and the intimacy of it hits him like a fucking freight train. 

He’s just regained control of his own breathing when Angel stirs slightly. Or at least, his nose does. 

Snnniff.

Fucking hell. Husk risks a glance down and sees Angel’s nose has started to twitch, reddening slightly. He kind of reminds Husk of a bunny rabbit, scrunching and twitching his nose in his sleep. It’s one of the cutest fucking things Husk has ever seen. 

It’s also, unfortunately, indicative of a problem; Husk’s fur appears to be tickling Angel’s already sensitive nose. Every time he inhales, tiny tufts of Husk’s fur brush up against his nose, and Angel’s sniffling and twitching become all the more apparent.

Husk curses this stupid body. He’s always disliked his demon form and now he has a whole new reason to hate it even more. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to wake the other man but he also doesn’t want to make him sneeze…let alone while he’s on top of Husk. The thought makes his stomach both fluttery and nauseated at the same time. He doesn’t think Angel is coherent enough right now to register what that would do to Husk, but he’d really rather not take the chance—

“Snniiff…heh…ehheh…”

Welp. Husk has wasted any time he had to potentially come to a decision and it’s now been decided for him. He looks up at the ceiling and tries to breathe, bracing himself. 

“Ehheh…eshhu! iishuu!”

Not being awake, Angel sneezes two tiny sneezes right against Husk’s chest. He actually ends up sneezing himself awake, which just makes the whole thing cuter. He blinks blearily, sniffling, and looks up at Husk. Husk doesn’t dare say anything, afraid that if he tries, all that will come out is a squeak. 

“M’ sorry,” Angel mumbles sleepily, not really awake enough to fully realize what happened, for which Husk is thankful. The poor kid would probably freak the fuck out if he’d been coherent. 

“S’ okay,” Husk forces himself to say, and damnit, his voice sounds like a fucking squirrels, shaky and twice as high as usual. He clears his throat and tries again. 

“But I think…” 

-for the love of fucking shit -

 “I think my fur is um. Making you sneeze.” 

He can feel his face turning red as a tomato.

 “So y’ should maybe move a bit,” he suggests, loosening his grip and starting to shift—

“No!”

Angel cries suddenly, and tightens his grip around Husk’s waist, his arms trembling a bit from the effort.

“Please don’ go,” Angel whimpers.

Husk feels his insides go all mushy. Still, he tries to shimmy to get an arm free.

“Relax kid, m’ not leavin, I jus’ need to move for a second—“

“No, no, no, no, please stay,” Angel cries out again, his voice horse and his speech slightly slurred. He appears to be too feverish and tired to understand what Husk’s saying, his hands grabbing Husk’s fur and pulling him back in every time he attempts to move. Husk sighs, but stops trying to switch positions for the moment. 

“Angie,” he tries again, this time very soft and very slow. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I jus’ wanna shift around a little. If we stay like this I’m…I’m gonna keep makin’ you sneeze.”

Fucking hell, why can’t he even say the word normally? He groans at himself internally. 

“Don’ care,” Angel murmurs from beside him, his voice muffled as he’s already buried his face in Husk’s chest again. “S’ warmb. Like this. Right here. Don’ wbanna’…jus’ stay.”

Husk bites the inside of his cheek. It feels…wrong. To stay like this, knowing how Angel sneezing on him makes him feel. And Angel, too incoherent to even realize it…it makes Husk’s stomach turn. Doesn’t this just make him one more person in Angel's life taking advantage of him in a vulnerable state? 

Still. Angel seems intent on him staying put, and regardless of what position they’re in, if he keeps his arms around Angel for warmth, he’s going to feel it every time Angel sneezes, no matter what. He doesn’t want to upset the kid over a few extra—

“Cn’ hear your heartbeat.” 

Angel’s voice cracks as he whispers this, fading in and out mid-sentence. 

Well, that settles it. Husk is staying put.  

He forces his heart to slow its pounding, determined to get a hold of himself. Angel wants him here, he’s not going to let this stupid…weird thing he has, ruin it. 

He takes several slow, deep breaths. Maybe if he can fall asleep before Angel’s next fit, he won’t even notice it happening. After all, his sneezes in his sleep were pretty quiet.  

He lets his eyes slide closed, focusing on the feeling of his fingers absently carding through Angel’s hair. The other man is already asleep again, his wheezing seeming to have improved while he’s propped up on Husk’s chest. Well, that’s something at least. Husk feels the knot in his stomach loosen a little. Angel’s breathing sounds a little better, his shivering has stopped, and he’s getting some much needed rest. Everything’s alright, for the moment. He feels his muscles start to relax.

He finally drifts off, counting Angel’s breaths like sheep. 

[Wolfwings22]

I know I’m a little late but just wanted to say how much I enjoy this fic! The way you write both Husk and Angel is so believable and this last part with them cuddling and Husk wanting to just make sure Angel is comfortable is amazing! Can’t wait for more! 

[coolbeans18]

9 hours ago, Wolfwings22 said:

I know I’m a little late but just wanted to say how much I enjoy this fic! The way you write both Husk and Angel is so believable and this last part with them cuddling and Husk wanting to just make sure Angel is comfortable is amazing! Can’t wait for more! 

Thank you thank you sm!! Much appreciated😁

[coolbeans18]

A Little Less Terrible / Part 6! 
 

Angel awoke to a sound he’d never heard before. It was a low rumbling, and it vibrated through his body pleasantly. He blinked, his sluggish brain still clawing its way out of sleep. Usually, waking up was an unpleasant experience for Angel. He’d rouse from his dreams only to be met with the cold crushing weight of his nightmarish reality. The bruises, the fatigue, the lingering symptoms of whatever latest bug he’d picked up, they’d all come rushing to the forefront of his mind and he’d have to force himself to ignore the pain and go be subjected to more of it all over again. 

But this time was different. This time, as he woke from his slumber, he wasn’t quite sure he was awake. He was swimming in warmth, something he’d only ever really found in the sweet relief of sleep. It spread through his muscles, his bones, his chest. He wondered if perhaps he was still asleep; maybe he was dreaming.

As he became aware of his surroundings, his dream theory became even more likely. 

He was in bed, and he wasn’t alone. That itself wasn’t unusual: point for reality. Except, the person in bed with him was Husk. Husk. Point for dreaming. 

The memories that come flooding back are fuzzy. He recalled the panic he’d felt after realizing he’d fallen asleep on Husk’s arm, and the disgustingly sweet conversation afterwards. But his fever had spiked as he and Husk were talking after the movie, and he didn’t remember much after Husk saying that his favorite show was some comedy set in a military hospital during…the Korean War? No, that couldn’t be right. Then again, it was Husk he was talking about, so who knows. 

He vaguely recalls the disbelief he’d felt when Husk had invited him into his arms to warm up. But he’d been so feverish that he’d honestly figured he’d imagined it, his head inventing fantasy scenarios to make his miserable existence more bearable. He definitely does not remember how he ended up here, his head resting on Husk's chest, all four arms and a leg, wrapped around Husk’s body. Husk’s own arms are cradling his shoulders, one hand nestled in Angel’s hair, the other resting on his waist. 

They were full on cuddling. Bordering on something more. Overwhelming evidence in favor of this being a dream. 

He did, however, quickly register the tell-tale signs of illness; the sore throat, the itchy nose, the weariness of his limbs. All points in favor of reality. But he was surprised to realize he felt considerably better than he had previously.

 The sweat beading on his forehead indicated that his fever had broken. His head was no longer pounding and his breathing was coming a little easier, the wheeze less audible. 

Speaking if audible. The sound that woke him comes again, that low, rumbling vibration. And when he realizes what’s making it, it takes every ounce of self control Angel possesses to not absolutely squeal in delight.

Husk is purring. 

Angel risks a small peak upwards. The other man is fast asleep, his chest rising and falling gently. He radiates heat; no wonder Angel woke up so warm. 

He’d never seen Husk asleep. Well, no, that was a lie. He’d seen Husk passed out from drinking plenty of times, even helped rouse him and haul him to his bedroom. But this was different. This wasn’t Husk, out cold and numb because he’d been chasing oblivion. This Husk was totally relaxed. His face was serene and peaceful and…happy. As was evident by the soft purrs he was emitting. Angel wished he could freeze time, stay here in the moment, seeing this sight, forever.

Unfortunately, his nose has other ideas. He hadn’t realized that as soft as Husk’s fur was, it was also a bit…ticklish. He had a faceful of it at the moment, and his nose was already so raw and red and sensitive. He can’t sit up, with Husk’s arms around him the way they are, so he’s forced to hastily reach for the white handkerchief in his pocket, bringing it up to his twitching nose as a barrier between himself and Husk’s chest.

“…iihh…igxch! ktch! chx!” 

His head bobs forward against Husk just slightly with each sneeze. He manages to stifle them into almost complete silence, using the hanky to pinch his nose shut, but the damage is already done. His movements have woken Husk, who blinks blearily, taking in his surroundings. He yawns, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes, and Angel wonders how it’s even legal for someone to be that cute.

“Sorry,” Angel whispers sheepishly, feeling bad. “Couldn’ help it.” 

At the sound of his voice, Husk looks down and meets his eyes, seeming to suddenly register where he is. Upon seeing Angel there beside him, their limbs practically interwoven, Husk’s face instantly flushes a dark shade of red. 

Angel feels his own cheeks turn slightly pink in return.

“Hi,” he says, lamley. Christ, he’s usually such a smooth talker in the mornings, with his clients. He learned early on that folks didn’t really like it when, the morning after, you immediately asked them for payment. They like to be chatted up, have a cuppa, made to feel like it was real. As Valentino had taught him, The Act lasted from the moment they first laid eyes on you until the cash was in your hand. Or, in Angel’s case, Valentino’s hand. He got to keep 10%, plus tips. Hence the sweet talk in the mornings; it usually led to better tips and more cash he could pocket. 

But Husk wasn’t a client. Husk was…well, Husk. And he made Angel’s mouth dry up and his throat feel like sandpaper. 

Husk doesn’t say anything in return. Which is fair, Angel had led with “Hi.” And not even a sweet, sensual hi, more of a ‘I-haven’t-got-a-fucking-clue-what-I’m-supposed-to-say-to-my-super-sweet-and-caring-friend-who-I’ve-just-woken-up-beside-with-a-definite-halfie,’ hi. 

Angel swallows. The smart part of his brain is telling him he should pull away, that Husk was just being a good friend, offering to warm him up when he was sick, and he has more than overstayed his welcome in this heavenly embrace.

But something about the way Husk is looking at him keeps him frozen there. From where he lies, he can feel the rapid rise and fall of Husk’s heavy breathing, can hear the other man’s heart practically beating out of his chest. He’s nervous.

But is it the good kind of nervous? The kind that Angel’s feeling? The kind that comes from being this close to someone you’ve been pining after for nearly a year? Or the uncomfortable kind? Angel can’t decide, and he’s too afraid to risk getting it wrong and ruining anything. 

Gently, trying to appear casual, he begins  untangling his legs from Husk’s. The movement seems to flip a switch in Husk, the other man immediately unwrapping his arms from around Angel’s shoulders. Angel tries not to shiver at the sudden loss of warmth. 

Husk quickly pushes himself up into a sitting position, looking…a bit panicked. Angel tries for a soft smile, trying to calm him down. 

“My fever broke,” he informs Husk. “M’ feelin’ a lot better.”

Husk clears his throat a bit, his face slowly returning to a normal color. He reaches over and grabs the thermometer off the bedside table, extending it to Angel. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, gruffly. “Let’s make sure yer not bullshittin’ me.”

Angel rolls his eyes, but dutifully places the thermometer under his tongue and turns it on. While he’s waiting for it to beep, he watches as Husk gets out of bed, stretching, moving his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders. The movements make Angel weak in his damn knees.

Suddenly, the tickle in his nose from before returns at full force. He should’ve known; whenever he stifles, it never quite succeeds in relieving him, and the itch always comes back. 

“…hhhhh…” 

His breathing begins to hitch, but with his mouth closed around the thermometer it makes little sound. He brings his finger up and places it under his nose, determined to stave off the sneeze until the thermometer can get a good reading…and to prove to Husk that he really is feeling better. 

Easier said than done. 

“…hhh…iiihh….hhhi!”

Oops. With that last hitch he lets slip a high pitched squeak at the end of the inhale. 

Husk turns, seeing the struggle Angel is undergoing, and the bastard chuckles. 

Angel shoots him a glare, already embarrassed enough at the predicament he’s currently in. 

“…hhh…hhhh…iihhhii!”

It’s no use. 

“ihhhhii! Ish-SHOO!”

The thermometer falls out of his mouth and onto the bed. Fuck. He couldn’t help it, it just tickled so badly. He feels his face go pink, both from sneezing in front of Husk, and at how stupid he probably looks right now. Christ that was embarrassing.

He can see Husk fighting not to laugh. 

“Oh fucgk obff,” he snaps, crossing his arms and looking away, glowering. 

“M’ sorry,” Husk says, shaking his head, chuckling. “You jus’ looked so fuckin’ adorable just now.”

Come again? 

Angel's eyes immediately shoot to Husk’s, and he stares at him. Husk’s mouth is still open, and it seems he’s frozen there, his eyes locked with Angel’s and looking absolutely terrified. 

Angel wants to say something to stop the other man from freaking out or worrying but he feels like his brain is buffering. Husk called him adorable? Cannot compute.

Several moments of painfully awkward silence pass, during which Angel sits there doing his best imitation of a white loading circle that appears on youtube videos while you wait for your wifi to connect, and Husk looks like he is praying that the ground will open up and swallow him whole. Finally, Fat Nuggets’ breaks the silence with an indignant snort. Angel glances down to see his pet pig standing beside his food bowl, not-so-patiently waiting to be fed.

“It’s—is it dinner time?” he sputters, trying to change the subject and save them both from further humiliation. “Can’t tell if it’s actually time for im’ ta eat or if he’s just scammin’ me,” he says, giving a little laugh. 

Husk, thank god, goes along with it, looking down to check his watch. 

“S’ almost 6,” he says, avoiding Angel’s eyes. “I’ll feed him, you take your temperature.”

Angel does as he told, too embarrassed to do anything else. He manages to keep the thermometer in his mouth this time, pulling it out and checking it as it beeps.

“Only 99!” He exclaims happily, displaying the reading proudly. Husk steps in to look, squinting without his glasses. 

“Good,” he sighs, and he really does look like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “That’s good. Was worried I was gonna have to take ya’ to the doctors.”

“Nope,” Angel hums happily, tossing the thermometer on the bed, “m’ all better!”

Husk snorts. 

“Let’s not get crazy,” he says, but a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Okay, maybe not completely, but I do feel a lot better,” Angel stresses, kicking the covers off and letting his legs dangle over the side. “Must’ve been all that purring you were doin’. Don’ it have special healing powers or whateva’?”

Husk freezes.

“What?”

Angel grins at him. “You was purrin’ when I woke up. In your sleep. Like a lil’ kitten.”

He sees Husk’s face go beat red again, his jaw clenching and unclenching in rapid succession. 

“Aw, no, I’m sorry!” Angel says, unable to keep himself from smiling, but genuinely meaning it. “I wasn’t’ tryna embarrass ya’ or anythin’, Husky, honest. I thought ya’ knew.”

“D’n know I did it in my fuckin’ sleep,” Husk half mumbles, half growls, scowling. “I hate this fuckin’ body, always doin’ weird shit I can’t control.”

This makes Angel’s heart hurt. He wishes he could take Husk’s hands and tell him exactly just how much he, Angel, definitely didn’t hate Husk’s body. 

“S’ not so bad,” he tries instead. “Ya’ managed to heal my frail little body at least. That’s pretty cool.”

Husk scoffs. “I don’ got some magic power Angel,” he grumbles. “Sides’ I’m pretty sure it only works on like…inflammation, or somethin’.”

“Noooo,” Angel argues, doing a quick Google search on his phone to confirm. “Aha! Says right here, ‘cats purr when sick to expedite their own healing processes and sometimes the healing process of others.’ You are magical. Wikipedia neva’ lies.”

“M’ pretty sure it’s jus’ the fever meds you took,” the other man grumbles, rolling his eyes. While his expression remains grumpy, Angel sees something in Husk’s eyes shift at his revelation. They appear to grow just a tad softer, and Angel smiles at this small victory. 

Before Husk can respond, a knock sounds at the door. With Angel still sitting in bed, Husk goes to answer, peering through the peephole before opening it.

“Angel!” Charlie exclaims as the door swings open. “How are you feeling? Husk told me you were sick, I’m so sorry, I hope the little care basket helped!”

Angel chuckles. “The basket was great toots,” he says, grinning at her. “M’ feelin’ much betta’ now. Should be up and attem’ in no time.”

Charlie beams. 

“That’s great!” she says, bouncing on her toes a little. “We missed seeing you today, all of us.” 

She turns to Husk. 

“I just came up to let you know that uhh, Alastor wants you down at the bar for your shift.” 

Husk’s face visibly pales at this. 

“Ah fuck,” he curses, “m’ already an hour late—“

“I tried to get him to leave you be,” Charlie says, wincing, “I told him it was perfectly fine, I know you were just up here taking care of Angel, but he’s…being pretty insistent. I barely convinced him to let me come get you instead of him barging in here—“

“Hey,” Husk cuts her off gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It ain’t your fault. I fell asleep, s’ my bad, I’ll deal with it. Appreciate you tryin’ though.”

Angel feels a wave of guilt wash over him. He’d been the one all insistent on Husk staying with him. He hadn’t meant to make him late for work or cause him any trouble.

Husk brushes past Charlie, not wasting any time getting down to the bar. Before he leaves, he pauses and glances over his shoulder. 

“Make sure he eats something,” he says to Charlie, though he’s looking at Angel as he does so. “He can have more fever meds in an hour, and take some NyQuil at 8. Keep an eye on him will ya’?”

“Of course,” Charlie says, smiling reassuringly, and Angel feels his chest grow warm at Husk’s attentiveness. He opens his mouth to thank him for all he’s done today, but no words come out. Angel can’t think of anything to say that would adequately express the gratitude he feels for Husk. He’s already said ‘thank you’ a hundred times over by now; the phrase just isn’t cutting it. 

The bartender leaves before he can come up with anything halfway decent, and Angel vows to find a way to show him just how grateful he is as soon as he’s well again and thinking straight. 

He zones out for a bit before noticing Charlie is still there. She leans against the doorframe, gazing at him with a fond expression on her face. 

“Cut that shit out,” Angel says, frowning. “Ya’ lookin’ at me like I’m ya’ little stuffed duck here.”

“His name is Sir Quacksalot,” Charlie says pointedly, making Angel laugh, though it turns into a short cough. “And I’m just happy that you’re feeling better. Annnndd that you have someone who…who cares so much about you.”

Angel flushes, becoming flustered. 

“He doesn’t—that’s not—he was jus’ bein’ nice is all,” he says, gripping said stuffed duck tightly for support. Charlie grins. 

“Whatever you say,” she says nonchalantly, striding forward and busying herself with collecting some of the empty dishes on Angel’s nightstand. 

“Hey, you don’ hafta’—“

“Ah ah,” Charlie says, shaking her head and wagging a finger at him. “No arguing. You’re the patient here, you rest, let me take care of everything else.”

Angel rolls his eyes at that, but knows better than to argue with Charlie when she’s made up her mind about something. She collects his dirty dishes and the now empty bag of candy from earlier and heads towards the door. 

“I’ll bring you something up for dinner in a minute,” she says before heading out. “Any preferences?” 

“I can get my own dinner Cha’ Cha’, really,” Angel protests, and Charlie shoots him a look. 

“Maybe, but you don’t need to. It’s one of the perks of having friends Angel. We take care of eachother.” 

She smiles at him, and he returns it, relenting, his heart growing warm at her kind words. 

“For the record though,” Charlie calls over her shoulder, “I am sorry I’m not your preferred caretaker.” 

She actually smirks at him, the little devil, and Angel scowls, flushing ten different shades of pink. Charlie just laughs, giving him a little wink, before shutting the door behind her. 

Angel groans, flopping backwards onto his bed and covering his face with his hands. 

Still, he can’t seem to help himself from smiling. 

[RipleyToo]

This is still very cute!

[RosyLights]

These last chapters are all so good! I'm glad that the story isn't finished yet, because I'm really enjoying reading it. Husk and Angel are so sweet! I love all of the fluff, and how they're both so gentle and careful with each other. Husk's purring is cute lol. I also love the part where Angel sneezes with the thermometer in his mouth. 🔥 I'm looking forward to the next part!

[coolbeans18]

12 hours ago, RosyLights said:

These last chapters are all so good! I'm glad that the story isn't finished yet, because I'm really enjoying reading it. Husk and Angel are so sweet! I love all of the fluff, and how they're both so gentle and careful with each other. Husk's purring is cute lol. I also love the part where Angel sneezes with the thermometer in his mouth. 🔥 I'm looking forward to the next part!

Tysm! I’m glad you’re enjoying😁