Chapter Text
It was the last night before they reopened the Hotel. Rebuilding it had been easy, with Lucifer's help - but there were a lot of little things to figure out. Charlie and Vaggie had wanted to make a curriculum, Nifty was insisting she was close to complete bug dominion, and Alastor was scouring the Hotel, getting rid of the barrage of cameras and drones Vox kept sneaking in.
They were all pushed into a booth at a bar to celebrate- nothing crazy, by Angel's standards, but nice. It was as close to classy as a cheap bar in hell could get.
He was next to Husk, who was sat next to Charlie, who was sat next to Lucifer - who had awkwardly flopped himself in between her and Vaggie, and seemed very excited to be sitting with both of them. Cherri was sitting across from Angel, playing with Nifty with a laser pointer. Niff was pretty drunk.
Alastor wasn’t there - because of course he wasn’t. Lucifer was there, and a bar with karaoke and strobing lights wasn’t really Alastor's vibe. Angel found he didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have minded, generally, but he found he didn’t mind specifically because Husk seemed more relaxed when Alastor wasn’t around.
It was close to the end of the night, and Angel was drunk in that special sleepy-but-not-crossed way that he only really associated with drinking too much at Christmas as a teenager - which was already an old, faded-out type of memory.
Charlie was talking, “I just think we could set it up as like, a Montessori school of good, you know? So the sinners could go at their own pace -”
Vaggie put her hands on the table, “I'm just worried that if we don't balance self paced work with us paced work, nothing will get done.”
Husk blinked - he'd had a lot to drink himself, which was seriously saying something. “What in the hell is a Montessori? I thought we were talking about Dolly Parton-”
Somebody with six eyes dropped a drink in front of Angel, nodding at some random octopus at the bar, “He sent you another drink.”
“We were talking about Dolly Parton-” said Cherri.
“No thank you,” said Angel awkwardly, talking to the barman. He was worried about getting spiked in front of everyone- god, how humiliating would that be?
The barman rolled all six eyes at once, and left the drink. Angel ignored it.
Angel hadn't even been the main drink-receiver tonight. People kept buying drinks for Charlie and Niff, because they'd killed Adam. He'd never admit it, but it was good to see them being appreciated - though, he wouldn't want them to actually drink the drinks. Earlier in the night, Lucifer had been turning them into little plastic ducks.
Vaggie was trying to explain, “Charlie read this teaching book from earth, but it was about little kids -”
Charlie smiled, “But don't we all have a child within us?”
Cherri clicked off the laser pointer, and Niff looked helplessly at her empty hands, drunkenly surprised.
“Listen,” sighed Cherri, “If we start arguing about the curriculum again, I gotta leave. A karaoke bar was already PG without acting like mums-”
Vaggie gestured vaguely, “I mean, someone streaked through the bar and tried to piss on the bartender, so I don’t think PG is really-”
Cherri rolled her eye, “But where's the sex? Where's the gay guys making out in the corner? This is basically a family place.”
Charlie cringed, “Speaking of leaving, it is really getting late, actually, and we all have a big day tomorrow!”
Charlie stood up, to agreement from Lucifer and Vaggie, and mild cussing from Husk and Cherri. Nifty still looked sad.
“Come on, Niff,” said Vaggie.
“I never caught the laser,” she cried.
Vaggie rolled her eye, just barely, “Because it's a laser-”
Cherri whistled and shone the laser on the floor as she stood up, and Nifty pounced on it, giggling maniacally.
Angel laughed and stood up - feeling nervous, for a second, because when the night ended, tomorrow would come - and when tomorrow came, the hotel would open, for real this time.
God, did he care enough to be anxious? Jesus Christ.
Husk stood up behind him, grabbed Lucifer's abandoned drink, and Angel's ignored drink, and downed them both at once. Then he grabbed the last half of Nifty's, and finished that too.
Angel laughed. Lucifer, who was the last one shuffling out of the booth, looked over and said “Girrrlllll,” in a slightly forced and judgemental way, which made Angel laugh harder.
As they walked back, Angel fell into step next to Husk, “So, who is this Dolly Parton character?”
Husk chuckled and shrugged, “I'm the wrong person to ask. It's Cherri Bomb who brought her up.”
Angel shrugged, and they walked for a while, quietly - until Angel caught Husk staring at him.
Angel smiled, incredulous, “You alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Husk said, blinking and snapping his head back forward.
They were about a block away from the hotel when Angel caught Husk doing it again - and it wasn't cute, or normal - he was fully watching Angel like a freak, a look of mild awe on his face.
Angel fully stopped this time, “Husk, for real, you okay?”
Husk stopped too, and the rest of the group kept going.
Husk blinked at Angel, slowly, “Yes? No? Fuck-” he growled, rubbing his eyes. “I'm fine, I just feel…fucking awful. I must have had too much to drink.”
“Did you though?” cringed Angel. “Lemme feel your forehead.”
“I don't need my fucking forehead felt,” muttered Husk, barely audible, and a little delayed. Despite what he said, he let Angel feel his forehead without cringing back.
“Jesus,” Angel said, “You're burning up. And your pupils are like, way dilated.”
Husk frog blinked at him.
Angel cringed again, “I think some asshole spiked your drink.” Angel muttered, “Probably with that love potion knock-off Velvette’s selling-”
Husk wrinkled up his eyebrows, “Who the fuck would spike my drink?!”
“Well, I don't know, you finished half the table's drinks.” Angel started walking them towards the hotel again, panicking just a little.
Husk mumbled, “I'm going to shoot the dick-faced asshole who…”
Angel forced a smile, “You don't need to panic, okay? I've been through this a thousand times - you just need to get somewhere safe, and wait. And hope they didn't poison you for real.”
“Someone poisoned me?!” yelled Husk as they finally walked into the hotel.
“Noooo,” cooed Angel, “Somebody prolly just put some shit in a drink they sent me, and you drank it.”
“That's not better!” he yelled, abruptly grabbing Angel's arm so he didn't fall over.
Charlie popped up, “Is he okay?”
She was the only person still in the lobby, and, by the looks of things, it was so she could anxiously pour over her lesson plans.
“I'm fine,” Husk growled, like Charlie couldn't see that he was leaning heavily on Angel.
Angel shook his head no from behind Husk.
Charlie frowned, worried, “What happened? Because-”
Angel shrugged, “His drink got spiked - or, somebody else's did and he drank it.”
“Noo,” said Husk, stage whispering poorly, “don't tell her that. That's embarrassing.”
“No, you don't need to feel embarrassed.” Charlie laughed in a forced way, “It could have happened to any of us! Does he need anything, or…?”
Husk growled, “I need you to not tell anyone-”
“He needs water,” said Angel flatly, “and probably to go lay down. I'll keep an eye on him.”
Charlie nodded, “I can do water. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Angel rolled his eyes, just the babiest bit, “You just - you get some sleep tonight, okay?”
Charlie half smiled, “I'll try.”
And with that, he was hauling Husk up the stairs.
“Where's your room?” Angel asked - he couldn’t keep track, since they rebuilt the hotel. They'd done it so fast, and it was huge now.
Husk grumbled directions, and Angel brought him up and to the left, to a room high up, with a huge window. It was a good place for someone with wings.
Angel let Husk flop onto his bed, then cringed again, "Do you want me to get you anything before I leave? Like, plug your phone in, or…"
"I don't have a phone," Husk muttered, splayed out on the bed.
"What? Why not?"
"I put it in a blender." He said, putting a hand over his face, "God, I got a killer headache."
Angel couldn't let it go, "Why the hell did you blend your phone?"
Husk still had his hands over his face, "I was drunk and annoyed my ex kept calling me. Can you turn the fucking light off?"
Angel walked over and turned the light off, just as a glass of water, a pain pill, and a little note popped into the room with a bright sparkle. Angel handed the water and pill to Husk, who half sat up to drink, downed the water, then flopped back down with his hands over his face. Then Angel stepped toward the doorway and read the note in the light from the hall:
Feel better! Next to the words was a colorful doodle of Husk smiling and a little rainbow.
Angel rolled his eyes and dropped the note. "Charlie hopes you feel like a rainbow," he said dryly. "I'll see you in the morning, alright?"
"Don't go."
Husk said it so quietly, Angel could have missed it. He still had his hands over his face, but Angel was pretty sure he was blushing underneath.
Angel waffled, taking a backwards half step towards the door. "Are you sure you don't want to like, take a cold shower and throw up while blasting loud music?"
"I'm too dizzy to stand up," he grumbled, "and I don't…"
There was a long pause.
"Listen," frowned Angel, "I know how those imitation love potions make ya feel, but I don't want you thinking I'd do anything with you right now, because -"
"Jesus christ," moaned Husk, "that's not what I was gonna say. I just don't want to be alone, but it’s fucking embarrassing to say out loud."
Angel laughed, forcing it to sound charming instead of embarrassed or relieved, "Okay, I'll stay. But I'm leaving the door open."
Angel walked around and sat on the other side of the bed, leaning against the bed frame, since there weren't any chairs.
Angel looked around the room, "Why don't you have any stuff? Not everything got destroyed."
"I just don't have a lot of shit," Husk said, tired.
Angel leaned over and looked under the bed - he was being nosy, but he couldn’t help himself, "You don't have any shit. Like, nothin. "
Husk shrugged, then scooched up to sit next to Angel, "Not all of us horde stuff because of our Great Depression trauma."
A laugh burst out of Angel, "I do not have Great Depression trauma! I have regular, hot girl trauma."
Husk laughed back, "I've never seen you throw anything away - I've seen you throw stuff on the floor, but not actually away ."
Angel scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.
Husk smiled, just a little, "Look me in the eyes right now and tell me your room isn't a train wreck."
Angel pulled his phone out of his coat and shook his head - he could lie to Husk, but what was the point, really? Instead, he scooched over toward him, just a little, and showed him his phone, "Look at this. This is what I do when somebody drugs me."
Husk squinted at the phone, while Angel swiped through and clicked on a VoxTech app called Alarming Shit .
It loaded up a video of a human man's face, and Angel explained, "The videos are imported from Earth - they're like, satisfying, but in a creepy, gross way."
In the video, they started squeezing blackheads out of the man's face.
Husk jumped a little, "What the hell?!"
Angel laughed and scrolled away, to a video of somebody getting odd gunk pulled out of their ear.
Husk laughed, startled, and turned his face away from the screen, "Angel, why would you watch this? And when you get drugged, of all things?"
"Hey," Angel giggled, "It's a cope! If you watch it, it makes your toes all curl up, and your body all tense, and-"
"Why would you want that?!" laughed Husk.
"I'm explainin’! If like, somebody drugs you to make you horny, or pliable, or dizzy or whatever, this is a way to undo that, sort of. Or at least, give you control back about which type of way you feel bad.”
Husk frowned at Angel, eyebrows tight. He huffed, “Fine, I’ll try it. But if weird porn pops up, we’re turning it off.”
“I’ll scroll past the weird porn,” Angel promised.
They cringed their way through an incel POV video, and then through another video where a beauty technician popped an old man’s pimples.
After that video, Husk frowned at him, “Yeah, that does make your body feel different.”
“Kinda bad,” agreed Angel.
“Stiff.”
Angel laughed and scrolled on, “But we’re in charge of how bad we feel!”
They watched a close-up video of a woman’s mouth while she ate unidentifiable food, a video of someone feeding tiny plastic babies to a fuzzy robot, and a video of someone getting giant clumps of dandruff combed out of their hair.
Angel shut his phone off and dropped it on his chest, “Do you wanna make a cake?”
Husk laughed, “What about that made you want cake?”
Angel shrugged, “I dunno - I’m drunk, I want cake.”
Husk wiggled a little, “That actually did make me feel better.”
Angel sat up and ran a hand through his hair, “I told ya. I’m a pro at this.”
Husk sat up too, grimacing, “You said I was going to throw up?”
Angel shrugged and stood up, “Prolly tomorrow morning. A lot. But right now, you’re in a beautiful window where you get to feel horny, eat cake, and fall asleep.”
Husk threw a pillow at him, “Shut up.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, Whiskers. Let’s go make a cake.” Angel held his hand out for Husk to take, looking cute but feeling a little worried Husk would turn him down.
Husk took his hand, still a little unsteady on his feet, and they walked back down the stairs arm in arm.
The new kitchen was adjacent to the lobby, across from a little sitting room with a fireplace. The kitchen was notoriously understocked, but Angel was notoriously good at cooking with anything . If he wanted a drunkenly baked cake, he was getting one.
He walked Husk to a stool by the kitchen’s island, then started peering into cabinets. He found an old cake mix that was only slightly expired. Then he dug around until he found jam, cocoa powder, and cinnamon. He left for a second to go raid the bar, then came back with a jar of maraschino cherries.
He dumped the cake mix, some cinnamon, and water into a cake pan and started stirring. Husk blinked at him lazily, and leaned on the island.
After a minute, Husk asked, “Aren’t you supposed to add eggs?”
Angel tisked, “That’s cake propaganda . All you need for box cake mix is water.”
Angel started mixing jam into the left side of the cake, then maraschino cherry juice. Then he stirred coco powder into the far right side, leaving a swirly vanilla stripe in the middle.
Husk leaned all the way onto the counter, his chin on his folded arms, sleepy. “Girl, what are you doing to that cake?”
Angel snorted, “It’s a neapolitan cake.” He gestured to the flavors, “It’s strawberry, vanilla, chocolate.”
“That’s not strawberry, that’s raspberry jam and maraschino cherry juice,” Husk argued.
Angel huffed at him as he put the cake in the oven, “It’s strawberry colored , okay? What are you, a cake critic?”
“I will be when it’s done,” Husk said in a barely there sing-song. He laid his face directly down on his hands, eyes closed, “I’ll be enthusiastic . Ten outta ten.”
Angel snickered, then set a timer on top of the oven. He walked around and sat next to Husk, and looked at his phone for 20 minutes.
He kept glancing at Husk. He couldn’t actually be asleep, leaned over, on a barstool, right?
Angel blinked, and his eyes felt grainy - he was getting slowly more sober, more tired, and a little sick. And wait - wouldn’t Husk have Great Depression trauma, too? He squinted into the distance - when did Husk die? Angel got a vibe that it was after his own era, but he didn’t think Husk had ever actually said.
He opened his mouth to ask, just as the oven timer went off. Angel jumped. Husk shot up in his seat and yelled, “Jesus Christ, whatthehell ?!”
Angel stood up and grabbed a hand towel, then took the cake out of the oven, “It was just the oven timer, our cake is done. Or, almost done, it still has to cool.”
Husk shook his head a little, then pressed his fingers over his eyes, “I feel like garbage.”
“Mmm,” Angel hummed, setting the cake on top of the oven, “you got roofied, remember?”
Husk put his face in his hand, “Kinda.” He sighed, “Am I going to remember this ?”
Angel leaned against the oven, “You better, we’ve been having a nice time.”
Husk groaned, “I’m going to go lay down.”
“You don’t want cake?” Angel asked. He couldn’t blame Husk - if this had happened to him, he would have locked himself in his room, blasted loud music, cried his eyes out, then acted fine the next day. But Angel didn’t want Husk to go. He couldn’t bring himself to say that, though.
Husk waved at him, “I’ll have your cake tomorrow.” As he walked out, he muttered, “It smells good.”
Angel frowned and poked at the cake, then filled up and downed a big glass of water. He was sober enough, at this point, to feel shitty and kinda sick. He tucked a towel around the cake so bugs couldn’t get into it, had another glass of water, and decided to head back to his room.
He walked out of the kitchen, and passed the little sitting room, and saw Husk laying on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Angel leaned in, “Husk, you okay?”
“Mmm,” Husk groaned.
“Were you planning to sleep there…?”
Husk groaned again. Then, “I was going to my room, but I gave up.”
Angel laughed, just barely, “Do you want a blanket, or a pillow, or…?”
Husk waved in Angel’s direction, eyes closed, “No, no. I’m fine. I’ll get up in a bit.”
Angel would bet real money Husk would not get up in a bit, he’d probably get up when someone started yelling about something random in the morning. So Angel did turn off the light and leave, but only to go to his room and get a blanket. Angel went into his closet and grabbed a big, fluffy, pink one, because it was clean. Then he grabbed some pillows, and hiked back down all the stairs.
Maybe he could buy Husk a blanket, just so Husk could have something that didn’t come default with his room.
He got back to the sitting room and tiptoed in - Husk looked properly asleep, with his mouth open and everything. Angel floofed the blanket over him, then nudged him to try and give him a pillow.
Husk jumped, swore, and leaned up on one arm, squinting at Angel and shaking his head.
“You don’t wake up normal,” Angel teased softly.
Husk squinted at him, “Gotta be ready to fight somebody. What-”
Angel slid the pillows under Husk, “I brought you bedding. ‘Cuz you’re like, on the carpet.”
Husk looked groggily at the carpet, then face planted into the pillows. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Angel said, flipping his hair. “I’m amazing. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Angel stood up to leave, but Husk stopped him by saying, “Don’t…”
Angel froze. Husk pushed his face into the pillows, then looked at Angel, clearly embarrassed, “What if you stayed. Here. With me?” Husk looked a little like he was cringing at himself.
Angel flopped down next to Husk, delighted in his own way, but really dressing things up, “Thank god I don’t have to walk all the way back up those stairs. I get it’s good the hotel’s bigger, bla bla bla, but oh my god it’s hard to hike up and down the stairs.” Angel stuck his feet under the blanket and took one of his pillows back, while Husk smiled and chuckled. Angel went on, “Lucifer needs to install a fuckin elevator.”
Husk laid back on his pillow, eyes closed, “I don’t fucking trust elevators.”
Angel laid next to him, feeling abruptly like a child at a sleepover. It felt like a cozy sleepover, though - the only light in the room was coming from the fire, and he felt jarringly, shockingly safe .
“Why don’t you trust elevators?” Angel asked quietly.
“Mmm,” said Husk, eyes closed, half asleep, “I can’t figure out whether or not I could fly in one, if it started falling.”
Angel snickered, warm, letting his body melt into the floor. He was, or had been, intoxicated enough to not mind it was sorta hard. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fly,” he said.
Husk hummed again, then muttered, “Yeah, because it’s fucking high effort - but it’s the principle of the thing. The physics freaks me out.”
Angel closed his eyes too, and teased, “Weirdo.”
Husk laughed, just barely, “You’re a weirdo.”
Angel laughed back, then fell quiet. He listened to Husk breathing, slowly, in and out. He listened to the crackle of the fire as it slowly died down. He let his head sink into his pillow.
Right before he fell asleep, Angel heard Husk roll over, and felt his wing drift over him, like a giant, heavy blanket.
It was the best sleep Angel had since back before he met Valentino.