Not Quite the Position Planned
Husk limped into his room, a hand pressing into his hip for support as he tried not to let his leg drag so lamely. He felt pathetic closing the bar early like this, but god help him, the pain had flared worse than it had in months and he knew he wouldn’t be able to spend another 6 hours on his feet dealing with drunks and sinners sobbing about redemption. Thankfully, Charlie and Vaggi were understanding when flare-ups made the older demon their bitch.
He’d only just made it inside when he felt the spasm send waves of pain rippling through his lower back, his leg seeming to lose the last bit of feeling it had as he crumbled like paper. He felt like a house with a cracked foundation— slowly crumbling brick by fucked up brick.
“F-fu-fuck…” His whimpered words trailed off as he lay on the floor, trying to breathe through the pain. He wanted to curl into a ball but experience told him that was a bad idea, but laying flat on his back usually worsened the numbness down his leg, and laying on his stomach meant arching his back a bit more and that worsened the pain too, which left getting up—- a painful but necessary evil that he would have to face eventually if not now…. So he began the slow process, a dance he’d done over the years when his back went out, grumbling to himself about “old people bullshit” between hisses of pain.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, he knew it was Angel likely looking to continue their spicy exchange from earlier in the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment. Husk had never particularly thought of himself as sexy, but he didn’t think there was any way he could feel less sexy than he did there—- on his hands and knees, panting like a tired animal as his back spasmed again and his hips screamed at the position he was frozen in.
Angel’s last message flashed behind his eyes as he squeezed them shut, breathing deeply against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Maybe I need to be the one bending you over tonight…”
It had seemed enticing then, when his body wasn’t staging a coup against him. Being bent over might kill him in the state he was in… Hell, sex in almost every position Angel liked might kill him tonight.
By the time he managed to crawl to his bedside table and pull himself to his feet, he was sweating and panting like he’d run a marathon, ignoring the way his phone buzzed every few minutes as he forced himself to take just two steps before allowing himself to collapse onto his bed with a grunt.
He felt the phone buzz in his pocket again…. He knew he should answer it, knew he should probably tell Angel what had happened, knew that relationships relied on healthy communication— or whatever bullshit Charlie talked about in group therapy when she had that session on building healthy relationships after trauma— but Husk couldn’t bring himself to take that step. Pain like this wasn’t sexy, it was just another reminder that he was old and fucked up in more ways than he cared to admit to anyone, least of all Angel.
God, Angel… He was everything Husk had come to believe he didn’t deserve despite the spider having his own flaws.
Husk’s phone buzzed again… and again… and again…
Groaning, Husk pulled every ounce of will power to reach for the phone.
Two photos came up when he opened them…. One a Angel in his dressing room, body adorned in just the silk robe he wore between takes of whatever fucked up idea Valentino was making him bring to life that day…. The second a picture from the full length mirror in his dressing room, his robe falling off one shoulder and the slit opening more near the bottom than he could claim was unintentional.
Was he really? Husk scoffed at thought, whatever Angel was picturing wasn’t the pathetic sight he knew he was now….
Silencing his phone, he tossed it aside, forcing himself onto his side. Husk remembered all the handouts and the way the nurses had explained how he should lay the last time things started to get this bad and Charlie practically ambushed him with a home visit, claiming that she called a doctor to examine all the staff…. But she was very insistent that Husk be the first to go and he was the only one who opened the door to the back room to find the princess hovering near the door pretending to examine the wallpaper as if she hadn’t been worried enough to press her ear to the door.
On his side— laying on whichever side that he was able to feel his leg on. A pillow between his knees. Ice for the first 24 hours at least despite him wanting nothing more than heat to sooth the twitching muscle along his spine, not that he could get that on his own now…. Or call someone to do it for him since he’d just tossed his phone to the other side of the bed.
Husk’s tail flicked, lashing in annoyance before he forced himself to reach toward the nightstand…. He gasped as the movement pulled at muscles still tight and twitching and jumping beneath his skin. The sudden spike of pain sends electricity zapping into his wings, the involuntary flapping at the pain seeming to worsen the pain screaming across his back as if it were some twisted game his body was playing with him that he wasn’t sure when he began playing.
“Fuck….” He meant it to be a growl, but the word comes out like a choked whisper as his wings seem to relax again, though it still feels like the nerves through them ignite at random and shoot small currents of pain through them even as he pulls them tight against his back.
His next reach was slower, each movement calculated and measured until his arm hung over the edge of the bed despite the pain, fingers searching along where he could feel until he felt the bottles. His fingers wrap around the glass neck of a bottle, flexing at the familiarity of the cool beneath his fingertips. He doesn’t pick it up, just shakes it, testing the weight— half full… easy, dependable, wouldn’t numb the pain, but a stiff drink has put him out long enough to sleep through the worst of flares like this, at least that’s always been what the old cat told himself….
His eyes closed against another bout of pain as it rippled through him, the tears that had gathered in the corners falling without his permission as his fingers twitched around the neck of the bottle again before abandoning the booze and slowly pulling a half finished bottle of water onto the bed beside him. He didn’t drink it, didn’t think he could right now, honestly didn’t want to, but somehow the weight in his palms felt comforting despite being nothing of true comfort.
Husk’s phone lay abandoned at the foot of the bed, silent, though he knew Angel was probably still texting him since he could see the screen light every few minutes. Once. Twice. Three times…. He turns his head as best he can without aggravating still twitching muscles in an attempt to ignore the guilt that pressed down on his chest at ignoring the man he’d found himself falling for over the course of the months they’d spent together.
Sleep rarely came on days like this, but Husk closed his eyes anyway in hopes that the pain would fade into a background noise until his mind slipped into something less than conscious, restful or not— at any rate, with his eyes closed, he could at least pretend he wasn’t fucking up the first half decent relationship he’d had in decades by just watching his phone light up with his boyfriend’s name from across the bed….
Husk snorted a laugh as the word crossed his mind. Boyfriend. If he could even call Angel that by the end of the first hour of ignored texts….
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Angel frowned at his phone, looking distraught as he refreshed his messages with Husk for the tenth time in the last 2 minutes. He hadn’t responded in nearly three hours now….
Did I fuck this up? He wondered, refreshing the messages again, scrolling up to the flirtation they had going before Husk dropped off. He’d taken a risk, suggested something about a role reversal that he had thought would be sexy at the time… But now, his eyes skim the text again. Was that too much? Did I freak him out?
A familiar feeling claws at the spider demon’s chest… He’d come on too strong with Husk before, they’d had arguments about it, his Angel Dust persona bigger than life and a lot more confident than he could ever hope to be as just Anthony when it came to all this dating and flirting and sex stuff… Husk was never fully on board with that, said Angel Dust was different from just Angel— different from Anthony… Said he didn’t wanna date Angel Dust….
Angel swallowed hard, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He had been Angel Dust so long he wasn’t sure he could be anyone else when it came to what Charlie called the “intimacy” portion of their relationship… He’d managed to water it down, but it was more the sex fiend that spread his legs for an audience when he’d been texting Husk earlier…
“Angel, where the fuck is my star?” Valentino snapped from just beyond his dressing room.
“Fuck.” Angel muttered, tossing his phone back onto the loveseat in his dressing room and smoothing his robe around him in an attempt to calm himself a little before he went back on set— though he was sure Valentino wouldn’t have minded him looking a bit distressed given the filth he had lined up for the next scene he was having the demon film.
By the time his shooting was done and Angel was dismissed and showered, he still hadn’t heard a word from Husk.
He called, his stomach twisting when the hell cat didn’t answer before he felt something in him start to go cold at the idea of being ignored. Husk knew how much he hated being ignored, knew what the feeling of abandonment did to him, and he’d always made sure to tell Angel why he couldn’t answer, a quick text telling him that he was having a one on one session with Charlie or that the bar was too busy for him to keep checking his phone… But today, there was nothing, though Husk had read the last few messages he sent some time while Angel was shooting, which had to mean this was deliberate.
“Fucking bastard.” Angel mutters, shoving his phone in his pocket as he grabs his bag and starts toward the door. “If he ain’t gonna pay attention to me, I’ll find someone who will. Plenty of guys out there would kill for a chance to be with me.”
It sounds cocky and he knows it, but it’s not untrue.
Angel stalks toward the hotel. He needs to feed Fat Nuggets before he can go out, needs to change into something hotter than what he wore to the studio today, needs to walk past the bar on his way out so Husk can see exactly what he’s been ignoring all day….
Only it’s Vaggi behind the bar when he steps into the Hazbin Hotel’s lobby, and Charlie who’s playing waitress.
Charlie immediately abandons the tray of drinks she’s holding on the bar when she sees Angel, leaving demons to grumble as they pick them off the tray themselves. “You’re back!” She beams, hugging the man.
“Uh, babe, a little help here?” Vaggi calls as a drink is spilled while the demons pilfer the drink tray, glass shattering as they knock into one another in an attempt to grab a drink and push their way to the front to shout orders at Vaggi, who is struggling to fill Husk’s shoes in the realm of bartending.
“Oh, right!” Charlie starts to backpedal before pausing. “Angel, can you check on Husk? I told him we’d watch the bar cause his back was bothering him. I meant to check on him earlier, but it got really busy down here and—”
“Charlie!” Vaggi calls again, prompting Charlie to drop the conversation mid sentence as she sees the crowd growing to the point where she can’t actually see where her girlfriend is anymore.
Angel stands there a moment, watching the princess fight her way through the crowd, apologies and polite “excuse me’s” falling from her lips as she wades through demons of various shapes and sizes…. But he hardly really registers the sight in front of him as he thinks about why the two women are manning the bar: Husk was hurt.
He isn’t quite sure how he got up to Husk’s room, doesn’t remember practically sprinting up the stairs two at a time, but he’s in front of Husk’s door, his legs burning a bit more than they had been when he’s walked into the hotel, but he’s standing at the other demon’s door before he realizes it, listening to the sounds of nothingness beyond the door.
Husk’s room is almost never quiet when he’s in it.
Angel tries for the doorknob and to his surprise, the door opens with little force, not locked— barely even closed… Husk was never careless when it came to locking doors, a habit both he and Angel shared from different traumas.
Stepping into the room slowly, Angel took in every little detail…. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance; playing cards on the table, a half finished bottle of booze beside his favorite chair that Husk just couldn’t bring himself to toss out yet despite not having touched a drink in almost a month, the clock ticking on the wall, clothes strewn about the floor from the night before when Husk stripped and got into bed after work without caring about the clutter he created, magic memorabilia strewn around the room…
Soft, shaky breaths catch Angel’s attention, pulling him further into the room, toward the bed where a half covered lump lay awkwardly, trembling against the mattress.
Husk’s ears lay flat against his head, his tail twitching behind him and hitting the bed with a barely audible thump every few seconds, tears leaking through eyes squeezed shut tight, his face frozen in a grimace.
The anger seemed to drain from Angel’s body as he looked over the man in the bed. He looked… vulnerable, small almost…. He’d never imagined seeing Husk like this, never imagined he could look like this.
“Whiskers?” He hesitates, a hand half outstretched to touch the man. “Are ya ok?”
Husk’s eyes snapped open, wild and glazed with pain, tail lashing almost violently as he shoots upright at the sudden sound. He lets out a sound that might have been a growl in any other situation, but all that truly comes out is a strangled “get the fuck out” that dissolved into a hiss of pain quickly as a hand went to his back to press into still twitching muscles…. But there’s nothing menacing in the way his face twists as he hunches forward, tail lashing.
It wasn’t a pretty picture, certainly not the man Angel had been picturing when he’d been sending the messages he’d been sending earlier in the day….
The hell cat couldn’t bring himself to meet the other demon’s eyes, though he could feel the other’s gaze on him. “What are you even doing here?” He rasped, swallowing hard, as if he was trying to swallow the pain down with one big gulp of air.
Angel stood there a moment, feeling like he had just intruded on something he hadn't had the right to see. “I– Charlie said you weren’t feeling too hot…” His voice lacked any of the anger he’d felt at being ignored, holding only a soft sympathy as he watched as his boyfriend seemed to struggle to stay upright. “I wanted to come check on ya.”
Husk seemed to freeze at that for just a moment. He can’t remember the last time someone was worried about him…
“Is there anything I can do?” Angel questioned, already moving to sit beside Husk on the bed. A soft groan slipped from Husk’s lips before he could stop it as the bed dipped slightly under Angel’s weight, and instinctively, Angel reached for him, a hand resting over his where it pressed into his lower back. “Just tell me how I can help…. I wanna help, Husk.”
The silence seemed to stretch forever before Husk let out a low grumble. “Ice….” the word comes out strained, but clear and Angel is already on his feet, ready to go hunting for an icepack when Husk’s hand catches his wrist. “And… maybe we don’t fuck tonight?” He adds begrudgingly.
It was Angel’s turn to freeze then. “I…” His voice trailed off, the bed sinking again as he sat back down, frowning as a blush spread across his cheeks. “Is that why you stopped textin’ me back? Did ya think I’d be mad or somethin’ cause you hurt yourself?”
Husk snorted. “I had to quit the bar early tonight and I had to crawl halfway to the damn bed, textin’ wasn’t exactly my top priority when I can’t even stand.” He gestured to himself shakily. “Besides, you really think this is sexy, Legs?”
Angel looked him over, taking in every detail… He could see the way his muscles still twitched and spasmed deep beneath his skin from his shoulders down to his hips, and the way ripples of pain seemed present in each feature from the way his tail flicked to the way his wings fluttered behind him with each spasm rolling up and down his spine, and the tears he was still fighting to keep at bay despite the obvious signs that he’d cried already clear on his face….. And the way he was shaking, the type of trembling that came from struggling to stay upright far longer than you should. Husk was right— this was far from the sexed up image he’d had in mind when he’d been texting Husk between takes of filming earlier.
Leaning in, Angel pressed a soft kiss to the soft fur covering Husk’s temples. “I ain’t worried about sexy.” He whispered into the dark fur. “I’m worried about you.”
“I…” Husk’s words trail into nothingness at that, like he’d never expected an easy acceptance of anything less than perfect when it came to their relationship.
Angel didn’t mind, kissing his cheek. “I’ll go find ya some ice.”
Husk sat there, watching Angel walk away. The pain still lingered, his head ached from crying, and he was pretty sure that if he’d tried to stand he’d collapse on the spot…. But the feeling of Angel’s lips against his temple, against his cheek lingered too, and for once, the pain he had been carrying for god knows how long didn’t feel as if it was crushing him.
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