Chapter Text
Angel is a genius.
Woefully unappreciated, most of the time. The creative direction of his cinematic career falls squarely on Valentino’s shoulders, (between which, Val’s stupid moth head is full a’ dust an’ elevator music – let’s be real here).
But while Angel might not have any choice at all when it comes to the studio... when night crawls in over Hazbin Hotel, Angel is free and work becomes play. And Husk, the surly bartender with the gravelly voice and big hands and weirdly handsome scruffiness... he’s a whole lot of fun, so it turns out.
“Are... you sure this is right? Like this?”
“Yeah, ya got it, babe. Now, tuck the red one under the black.”
Husk’s dark eyes boggle up at him from where he’s crouched between Angel’s legs. The whoosh of ribbon is loud in the quiet of Angel’s bedroom – or maybe it just goes straight to Angel’s brain as a direct broadcast. Angel licks his lips.
He has to admit, Husk is extra cute when he’s frustrated. His wide paw pads are dexterous, made for handling cards and poker chips and the cocktail shaker behind the hotel bar. But wrapping Angel up in these twin ribbons, especially in such an elaborate array, is new. Angel patiently guides him through it, which is admittedly tricky when his own hands are already attached to the web-shaped headboard. It’s worth it though, and especially to see the blush across Husk’s nose and cheeks as the ties reach Angel’s hips. The candlelight hides nothing.
There are two distractions at play here. One is Angel himself, who looks real fuckin’ good crisscrossed in red and black: Husk’s colours. He chose them special, since he’s nothing if not an artist. The position he’s deliberately chosen, on his knees, facing the headboard of his bed, makes both the arch of his back and curves of his ass and legs more prominent.
The other distraction is the trailing ends of the silky ribbons, which make Husk’s ears flicker and his tail twitch every time they move.
A stab of affection makes Angel’s heart squeeze.
“Now, here,” he murmurs, a thread of honey weaving into his voice, warm and wanting, “over my hip an’ between my legs...”
He sees Husk’s breath hitch. Obediently, the red ribbon dips low, diagonally across Angel’s body. Not for the first time tonight, Angel thanks himself for remembering to send Fat Nuggets to Auntie Charlie, since he doesn’t want to scar Nuggs’ innocent brain.
“Real nice – an’ the black one...”
Looking down the length of his body, covered in half-red, half-black diamonds now, Angel can see all the way to where the stripes frame his sheath. The lips are already swollen and glistening slick, and his emerging dick (not quite yet, Anthony – deep breaths, deep breaths) looks like a fat, pink bead inside it. He makes quite the sight, he knows.
Husk thinks so too. Angel can tell, from the way his catlike pupils dilate. Telltale also are the little puffs of breath ghosting over Angel’s hip as Husk mouths a distracted kiss there, applying a hint of teeth.
“Don’t get sidetracked,” Angel groans – they’ve already had to redo the ties twice to reach this point. His hands clench against the headboard.
“What next?” Husk’s rumble drifts up to him. It sends a shiver up Angel’s back and along his arms. He swallows.
“Right, so now they’ll go a-around my thighs – yeah, like that – an’ back up...”
“Hm, and then... here?”
Angel squeaks as he feels the soft ribbons slide down the split of his ass and over his hole.
“Y-you’re a fast learner, Husky.” Between Angel’s legs, his cock twitches, filling despite his efforts to hold off. He can’t twist to see Husk as he moves around behind him, but he can feel Husk petting between the diamonds, touching Angel softly here and there.
Letting his head loll loosely forward between his arms, Angel swallows a moan. He’s a literal pro at this. He'll take whatever kind of handling he can get. Rough and fast and desperate is nice – but these gentle moments with Husk are something else. Maybe it’s the counterpoint to how Husk is going to fuck him. He can feel how much his lover needs it tonight; there’s an eager hardness pressing against his leg when Husk kneels up to kiss across his shoulder, nosing at his neck—
“Hey, don’tcha let go!” Angel warns sharply, even as his voice starts to crumble into a moan.
He wants to swat Husk when he laughs, but his hands are tied and he can only thrash half-heartedly.
“You’re the boss,” Husk says, his voice warm and low. “Where next?”
Where next is the culmination of Angel’s bright idea; the ties spiral independently of each other around each thigh, both anchored at the front by looping knots. Even if someone’s done this before... fuck ‘em, because Angel came up with it all on his own: the two ends dangling beneath his hands can be pulled for instant release, freeing his wrists if he so chooses.
The ends hanging over his thighs, however...
Husk is hot across Angel’s back, wrapped around him. His chest vibrates with a subconscious purr, stopping and starting like an old engine ticking over. He pets up Angel’s front in long, indulgent strokes, claws catching enticingly at the edges of the satiny ties. Without his hands, Angel has to use his words: “H-Husk... the ends...”
His thighs quiver a little when Husk smooths his hands lower. His clawtips flirt with the ribbon.
“Yeah?”
There’s a hint of uncertainty there. Angel can’t help but love him. Husk has no idea what’s coming – apart from the two of them, if everything goes to plan, heh heh...
Hey. Don’t YOU go gettin’ derailed now too! Angel warns himself. His throat clicks; his mouth is already dry when he tells Husk, “Pull ‘em.”
Distantly, he hears the noise he makes as his bindings tighten, something between a wail and a whimper. For a few seconds, there is only the delicious pressure on his body, Angel’s world narrowing down. His shoulders dip, his back forced to arch. The ribbons separate his cheeks, exposing his hole to the warm air between his body and Husk’s. Between his legs, the ties framing his sheath squeeze and part his lips.
“Ah... ah...” Angel pants, looking down to see his dick standing hard and fully emerged, swollen and already glistening with precome. His eight eyes roll back in bliss. “Yesss... Y-ya can give me a bit more, Daddy, I want it.”
The ribbons press a careful increment further, while Angel gasps and his dick drools onto the sheets beneath him. Fuckin’ yes, that’s it, Husk, Huskhuskhusk—
“Angel,” Husk grits out, “fuck...”
Angel recovers enough to crack an eye open, looking cheekily back at him. “You likey?”
There is a dignified silence behind him, but Angel can still hear Husk’s wings fluff out, feathers rippling. A smug little thrill sets Angel alight. He tilts eagerly towards Husk as he leans around to kiss him, lets himself coaxed by his lover’s rough tongue. When it comes to Husk, Angel never needs a lot of persuading. Sometimes he pretends to play hard to get, just the tiniest bit. He’s sure he’ll never be tired of how much Husk wants him.
Husk sounds breathless when he breaks away, a string of spit connecting them. “I got somethin’ for you, by the way.”
“That so?” Angel beams. He loves receiving gifts. After all, it’s just another way of being adored. Perhaps right now is a weird time to be given a present, but he ain’t gonna say no. He watches as Husk gets unsteadily to his feet, reaching over for his fallen trousers. He might look a little awkward as his cock bobs heavily between his legs, but the sight only makes Angel’s mouth water.
From his pocket, Husk produces something black and silky.
“It’s...”
A mask, made to cover just the eyes, likely for sleeping. And, even better, as Husk crawls back onto the bed with Angel, turning it over to show him.
“This yours?” Angel asks, but he already knows.
Embroidered on one end is the word FUCK.
On the other, OFF.
Angel grins, delighted. “It is yours, ain’t it! Ya brought this along to share, hm?”
“I thought you might wanna try it?”
“Fuck yeah! Although, hang on...” Angel looks Husk up and down, taking stock of him. He wants to commit this sight to memory.
Husk is charmingly rumpled, his greying fur sticking up at odd angles. He shifts under the pink sweep of Angel’s gaze, still a little shy even after everything they’ve done together. It only makes Angel want him more. Angel is the one used to being looked at – Husk, not so much. But Angel loves all of him, from his crooked whiskers to the squishy pads on his hands and feet – and then, of course, there’s the body part Angel has become very acquainted with, these past months.
Angel feels his hole clench hungrily as he eyes Husk’s dick, not bothering to be sly. He can’t fuckin’ wait for Husk to stuff him with it, fill him up good, fuck him until he’s mindless with pleasure.
“I want ya so bad,” Angel whines, not caring if it’s unattractive; Husk has seen him at his (absolute, rock-bottom) worst and still worships him anyway. “Let’s get that thing on me, an’ then get that thing IN me!”
He lets his eyes flutter closed as Husk cups his cheek, feeling the cool silk slip over his forehead.
But the candlelight doesn’t dim. Angel peeks at Husk, who is looking suddenly stern.
“Tell me if you want it off, okay?”
“Yessir, gotcha! Please—” Angel bites off a pleased groan as everything goes black.
With his eyesight removed, it doesn’t take long for his other senses to take over. Angel’s breathing quickens as the finer details are amplified: the creak of the mattress beneath his knees as Husk moves... The sweet ache in his bound arms... The heat coming off Husk’s body as he slides up behind him again, fitting them so perfectly together...
Clawtips slide gently across Angel’s scalp, carding through his hair. He’s probably mussed and messy at this point, he knows – but before they began their game, he was as immaculately put-together as always. Angel tips his head back; the scritches feel good. Husk likes to be scratched too, Angel knows. That’s the one downside to their game tonight, being unable to touch.
Instead, he can only shiver as Husk sweeps his maddening touch down the back of Angel’s neck. When those big paws reach around to trace his jaw, Angel wastes no time sucking two fingers into his mouth—
“Hn,” he hears Husk’s exhale, and swirls his tongue around the base of a clawtip to try to make Husk do it again.
There’s spit on Angel’s chin when Husk pulls away, hands roaming down over Angel’s clavicles, drawing swirling patterns in the fine hair. Angel gasps as Husk explores his chest, squished and lifted by the diamond ties spanning his body. Sensitive flesh and fluff bulges between the lines and Husk doesn’t hesitate to grab two generous handfuls.
“Ah...” Angel whimpers, trying to rock back against the sturdy little body behind him. If he wiggles his ass just-so, he can feel the searing line of Husk’s cock. Sadly, the bindings allow only the smallest range of movement; it’s all Angel can do to hang on and let Husk play with him.
And play he does. There’s a mischievous hand on Angel’s tits and another questing down his body, teasing everywhere Husk can reach. Angel squeaks as a clawtip traces his ribs on his left side, then sweeps lower to draw ticklish circles on his belly. He squirms, moaning when the paw pads in his chest fluff pinch so perfectly, just shy of pain but never hurting.
It’s a counterpoint to the sudden, slow stroke along Angel’s cock, which has been steadily dripping beneath him ever since Husk tied the last knot.
“Aaaahhh! Ahh...” Angel cries out, the jump of his muscles making the ties bite deliciously. He muffles another whine, pinching his tongue between his teeth when Husk squeezes him.
“You’re so wet,” Husk observes, so casually, like he’s not taking Angel expertly apart. “Still, I think we need...”
The click of the lube bottle is loud to Angel’s ears. He groans and shifts, his bare toes curling in the sheets. When Husk smooths a soothing touch over one of his soles, there’s a brief flash of apprehension before Angel remembers to relax; Husk likes his weird feet, he reminds himself. Husk likes all of Angel, all is okay.
And then the heat of Husk’s body pulls away.
There’s a squishy sound behind him. The scent of the flavoured lube (strawberry, old reliable) fills the room. Angel twists.
“Husk?” He feels... suddenly vulnerable, like he’s stood on a cliff edge knowing there’s nothing but open sky beyond.
Husk’s paw encircles Angel’s ankle, anchoring him.
“I’ve got you,” he rumbles, and then Angel’s shout echoes off the walls with the slow slide of the toy into his exposed hole.
“AH! H-h-haaah!”
“Shhh, easy, relax.”
The dildo is slim; it’s Husk’s preferred design, unfussy and uncomplicated. It’s also his go-to toy for opening Angel up, since he decided that prodding around in delicate places with a cat-like claw is a recipe for disaster. Angel keeps trying to convince him otherwise, but in the meantime, the little dildo is a fun placeholder. He’s weirdly fond of it by now. It’s almost an extension of Husk at this point.
“Yes,” Angel whimpers, feeling his control start to slip, “finger me, Daddy.”
Lube squishes. Angel twists fruitlessly as Husk angles the dildo just-so, glancing his prostate and sending staticky shocks through his insides. He realises too late that he’s drooling, saliva pooling in the corner of his mouth.
“Ya want in?” he asks, voice breaking. Husk must have a real nice view back there, Angel’s tight little furl stretched open around the silicone.
Husk – the bastard – hums, like he’s considering it.
Angel feels the vibrations of that deep voice, licked into him by the tongue poking in next to the dildo.
Holy fuckin’ shit! Angel shouts hoarsely, wordlessly. The tops of his feet drum on the bed, hooked claws flexing. He’s locked in place, unable to do anything but nudge himself minutely back onto Husk’s face as that rough tongue swirls, mercilessly stretching him.
If Husk doesn’t get on him right the fuck now, Angel’s going to spill everywhere without him.
There’s a trill of surprise behind him as Angel’s third set of arms – the ones usually hidden – burst from his torso. Angel reaches blindly backwards, panting as he grabs for Husk wherever he can reach. One hand ends up on Husk’s forearm, the other curling around a wingtip—
“Husk—”
“Yeah, Angel, okay—”
“Fuck me.”
Angel is gone. He can hear himself distantly, demanding more (fuck me, Husk, Husk, Daddy, hurry it up, I’m so empty) but he’s lost control. He trusts Husk to give it to him. They trust each other. Husk knows exactly what Angel needs right now.
The dildo rolls off the side of the bed and thunks to the floor, forgotten. Angel comes back to himself enough to avoid yanking two fistfuls of Husk’s feathers as he’s finally pulled back onto that perfect dick—
“Auuughah,” he cries, delirious and loving it. If he listens hard, he can catch Husk’s tiny, involuntary sounds; they reverberate through his chest where he’s pressed solidly against Angel’s back as he slides home.
Angel’s taken a lot of dick in his time. He’s proud of the fact. Big dicks, small dicks, dicks with a lean, veiny dicks, wet dicks, dicks that are kind of weird until you tilt your head and look at ‘em from a certain angle... Husk is normal, Angel would say, on the scale of dick extremes. Husk is perfectly serviceable. No one would turn him down unless they were a real size queen (and, sure, Angel can take it like a pro, but he’s not picky).
What then, Angel might wonder later, is it about Husk’s cock in particular that has the ability to absolutely devastate him?
Head hanging down, third pair of hands kneading Husk clumsily, Angel is jolted in his bindings by each mind-melting thrust. He throbs, his body squeezing, sweat pooling beneath the eye mask. He wants to be good for Husk, wants to be his tight little toy, his sweet plaything...
“Haah,” Husk gasps for him when Angel bears down around him. His wings shudder beneath Angel’s hands. He’s still making those soft rumbling trills on each thrust, every slide pushing another sound from his throat. Angel wants to hear Husk’s little noises forever, wants to have them on replay just for him.
“How do I feel?” he asks desperately, feeling his own neglected dick jump where it taps against his thighs.
“Urghgh,” is Husk’s eloquent reply, kissing Angel’s shoulder blade open-mouthed and wet. His rhythm is faltering, the clutch of Angel’s body searing them both hotter and hotter—
Husk is going to come, Angel realises, moments before he feels the hand between his legs.
“Yes, yeah, Angel, so good,” Husk mumbles, applying sinful pleasure up Angel’s length. A flick of his wrist twists around his swollen cockhead. It’s a dirty move Angel has used on Husk plenty of times, and now the tables are turned. Angel looks down, blinded by the mask but if he could see, he knows exactly what kind of sight would greet him: he’s probably bright pink-red down there by now, slick everywhere, his little cock dwarfed by Husk’s big paw as he slides over him.
They rarely come together. There are days when Husk struggles to finish, and Angel is all too happy to assist him with some extra attention. Now, though—
“You’re...?” Husk gasps.
“Yes,” Angel breathes. “Husk, you too...”
It’s not a question. Husk’s wings seize and he chokes out a groan, hips twisting into Angel’s body as everything suddenly gets that much wetter. At the last moment, Angel yanks on the ends of the bindings under his hands, his tingling body collapsing down onto the mattress beneath him. He yowls, tensing up under the white-hot onslaught of his release, and his cock kicks in Husk’s fist and spurts all over the sheets.
He's not sure how long he comes for. Husk is a heavy, trembling weight against his back, but Angel feels so comfortable. The aftershocks roil pleasantly from where they’re still attached – and then there’s an obscene sound as Husk finally pulls out.
“How was—” Husk has time to say, before Angel snags him. “Oof!”
Rolling on the sheets, Angel folds Husk into his embrace, burying his face in Husk’s neck. He smells amazing. He doesn’t give a shit about being sticky and gross, when the afterglow feels this good.
“Mmm,” Angel hums once he’s got his voice back, rubbing his cheek against Husk’s. “Ya liked the ties then, I take it? Ten outta ten? Big fan?”
Husk’s eyes are half-lidded. He twitches lazily when Angel trails the end of the red ribbon up over the juncture of his thigh, brushing his spent cock where it’s beginning to retreat back into his body.
“I’d say I’m a fan,” he allows, pushing Angel’s hair softly back off his forehead.
Angel feels positively devilish as he leans in to steal a kiss:
“Your turn next time, then.”