Valentino? Cutting down on drugs? Had Angel found himself in some parallel universe in which his pimp was both the soft, comforting type and trying to get sober? Hell, maybe the spider was still dreaming - his nightmare seemed a damn sight more believable than what was actually happening in this moment.
Of course, his nightmare was merely the past on repeat. A horror his mind knew because it had already happened.
But Val cleaning up? Val, holding him while he sobbed, petting his hair, letting him cry into his fur and tug at it with tight, squeezing fists?
Angel dug his nails harder into the flesh of his thighs, teeth gritted as he waited for Val to work up some of his poisonous spit to soothe his star. It wouldn't take long - it never did. He knew Val well enough to know for a fact that he was always ready for action. It would take a moment, just a moment, and Angel wouldn't have to feel this anymore. The overwhelm, the disgust... just how lost he felt in this unfamiliar dynamic, like an abused animal frightened of an outstretched hand. Was it the hand of the same man that hurt him? It didn't matter; in a moment, he wouldn't care. Val would kiss him, and the sweet, cloying taste would calm him before the drug even hit his system. Any second now, he'd be high, and he wouldn't have to think about it. Any second now...
Angel's head snapped up, Val's apology cracking through his whirlwind of thoughts, but the meaning was lost on his addled mind. He looked at the moth expectantly, with even a sick sort of excitement - but Angel was not greeted by the sight of his lover raring to go. Instead, Valentino looked... hollow. Distressed. There was no fire in his eyes, no passion or anger. Instead, his gaze seemed almost cloudy, as though shrouded in a pink, stifling haze, conjured to keep Angel from witnessing the man behind them. Someone smaller, younger; from a long time ago. Someone Angel had caught glimpses of, but never truly seen.
Just who was Angel looking at? The Val that Angel knew never had any difficulty getting in the mood. Everything about this was uncharted territory.
Except for one thing: himself.
Angel, the junkie itching for a fix. The fuck-up who needed a hit just to get through the night. The whore who needed the monster from his nightmare to kiss him better. Same old Angel Dust. Addict trash like you doesn't change.
Val had tried to kill him, and he still hadn't changed.
And so, Angel did what he did best and performed.
Slapping a strained, shaky grin across his face, Angel's puffy eyes fluttered half-closed as he pushed himself forward on his knees and crawled slowly and provocatively across the bed to his keeper, his attempt at seduction undermined by clumsy, trembling limbs. "I can help wit' that, daddy," he murmured, evidence of his little episode of moments before glaringly obvious from his hoarse voice and ruffled, tear-streaked fur. The look in his eye wasn't alluring so much as desperate, wanting something that Val had rather than Val himself. There was nothing sexy about this little display - Angel looked sick and shaken, like he might pass out, or jump out of his skin. Two hands felt up Val's chest, latching around his neck and pulling himself into the moth's lap.
"C'mon, I'll get ya in the mood," the porn star whispered into his pimp's ear. The scent of Val's pheromone was stronger up close like this, clinging to his skin like smoke. Angel's lips brushed over his jaw - so close to his mouth. So close.
"We can have a little fun, hm?"
If there was one thing that Angel could count on, it was that Val wanted to fuck him. It didn't matter if he was crying or furious or fucked up or passed out - Val still wanted him. That hadn't changed. Right?
But when the moth's hand reached to cover his own with such uncertainty, that same hesitation spread into Angel and knocked the wind out of his performance. Suddenly, he felt horribly self-conscious, like some kind of joke that no one was laughing at. Val wasn't reciprocating. The way Val touched him was gentle - too gentle for him to know what to do with. When the moth asked him a question, Angel stared dumbly for a moment, mouth open, caught halfway between the embarrassment of his failed seduction and the shock of Val's unexpected softness.
"Uh, yeah," he eventually blurted, still straddling Val's lap and feeling a little ridiculous. His face flushed a rosy shade of pink.
