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Where do you go looking for salvation when you are already claimed by the wretched? In the hell of your own creation there is no one else to blame except yourself. The only light you can feel is the sun's weak rays which disgust themself to touch you.
Angel knew he was a piece of shit.
Angel knew he was a piece of shit as soon as he looked his sister in the eyes and lied about where he was going for the first time. As soon as the pin prick pain of a needle became a heady need. As soon as his house was no longer his home, when the jumping from couch to couch became so common he forgot that stability was an understood concept in the lives of most.
So when Angel opened his eyes to a soon familiar deep red glow, in a body now his, he was not surprised. In his years in hell he heard many sinners cry for a life left behind, or get angry and yell to God that they did not deserve this, that they deserved better. But Angel had been dead far longer than he had been alive, and his punishment began the day he began to understand the pressing darkness in his head.
For some, perhaps, waking up in hell would be a realization. But in the streets of hell it was too easy for Angel to fall into his old temptations. And, unlike in life, there was no quick way to get cash or increasingly less friendly sister’s face to lie to and say you’re going to change if she’ll just let you stay-
Valentino’s arms were a trap laid long before Angel died.
Days steeped in crimson rimmed misery. Nights of false blue ecstasy. The embrace of clinical detachment. Soon it all began to blend into one.
At least this way there was no one to hurt. No lips to warmly spew ‘Anthony’ with the decaying love of blood. Only the watery coolness of the new ‘Angel Dust’. Angel Dust who didn’t care, who was confident, who was cocky. Who could shoot a gun like a motherfucker! (That was pretty cool actually.)
If you sat Angel down and asked him when it all began to unravel he wouldn’t be able to tell you.
Each thread of tightly and messily woven yarn, slowly and carefully pulled apart.
The warmth of a hand leading him to promised salvation. The gazes of pride in the faces of the similarly wretched who should not care less. A room cleaned and waiting without judgment. Amber eyes burning invitingly behind a bar.
It was confusing. It was angry and sad and hard.
And it was a start.
And soon, Angel began to feel new urges replace the old ones. Like the urge to make Husk laugh. Or the urge to be near Husk. Or the urge to caress Husk slowly, drag him up to his bedroom and-
Yeah, this might be a problem.
“Hey sexy.” Angel purred as he leaned forward, front fluff spilling evocatively onto the bar front.
Husk sighed and shook his head, a familiar reaction. He didn’t even bother turning from his position polishing glasses.
“What do you want?” He said in his gruff voice, a hint of warmth seeping into his words. Angel grinned. Familiar butterflies rose in his stomach.
“You up ta much tonight? I’m going to a new bar downtown. Cherry wanted to show it to me.” Angel asked. He said it, in what he hoped was a casual tone - as if he wouldn't replay Husk’s rejection over and over in his head.
Husk frowned, and stopped his mithering actions behind the bar to look at Angel. Angel swallowed, his throat suddenly dry in the face of those dark amber eyes pinning him down.
“Are you sure that's a good idea? Cherry isn't always the best of influences.” Husk said, his low voice rumbling. Feeling a twinge of annoyance, Angel frowned.
“Listen, I know you don’t like her but Cherry is my friend alright? She just goes overboard sometimes. But she's been with me for a lot.” Angel said. Husk hummed in reply, but did not argue. In his judgemental silence, Angel found his annoyance simmering only more. “What gives you the right to judge me? I thought we were both losers dickhead!” he snapped.
More silence streamed into the air between the two men.
Silence… and guilt.
Agh! He didn’t mean to say it like that. Husk was only looking out for him and he’d gone and been a dick about it.
What would Charlie say in this situation? Something about rainbows and happiness. ‘Sorry is a good place to start Angel! Forgiveness is love Angel! Don’t be a massive pussy about it Angel!’.
“What are you guys talking about?”
Angel blinked. Clearly his Charlie hallucination had come to life and was now haunting him.
Looking around he spotted the familiar sinner's princess, who’s bright happy eyes stabbed into Angel's soul.
“Hi Charlie-” he started weakly, trying to figure out how to say ‘fuck off’ in a nice way.
“Angel was telling me about how he's going out to a new bar t’night.” Husk said. His flat tone, as usual, gave very little away.
Angel felt like shrinking away into a little hole as Charlie pondered these words. She stared curiously at Angel. And Angel could almost hear his sister's disbelieving voice pounding into his head, her face swimming on top of Charlie’s.
“That’s…” Charlie started. Angel winced.
‘That’s a stupid idea Angel. You think I’m just going to believe you’re going out for one drink? Like I was born yesterday!’ The words rang so loud that, for one moment, Angel was no longer in this Hotel in hell but was instead in his childhood home. His sister, his lookalike, staring at him with his anger echoed in her eyes. The cocktail of hurt or misunderstanding mixing with the drugs already dancing in Angel’s system. A door slammed open. A repeated action, its stupid familiarity and-
“That’s a great idea Angel!” Charlie said. With a wide smile, she cut through the ghost of Angel's sister and grabbed his hands. “Ooh I’ll let the other’s know! I’ve always wanted to go on a night out with you guys!”
Angel nodded mutely. Charlie squeezed his hands once more, before dropping them.
“You coming Husker?” She asked.
Heart in his throat, Angel waited for Husk’s refusal, waited for the hatred he was sure would be dripping from the other man’s mouth.
“Sure. Someone needs to keep you idiots safe.” He said almost jovially. As if Angel hadn’t just been a huge prick. Hadn’t just shown the true poisoning evil he carried inside his heart.
And suddenly, it was all too much.
Angel stood suddenly, causing the shitty stool beneath him to fall with a loud clatter.
He could hear his own breath in his ears. It was loud.
“I’m going to clean myself up in my room.” He said. Or at least, he thought he said, the words coming from his body, separate from his spinning brain.
Before the other wretched souls could ask, Angel fled.
Husk's dark eyes followed him up every step.
—
Usually, Angel was quite good at getting a grip on himself.
Standing in front of a mirror, he would count slowly to ten. In through his nose and out through his mouth.
And then he would tear his entire room apart looking for the drugs that he knew he had tucked away somewhere. Hidden in an attempt to stop just this, but not hidden enough to actually do anything meaningful.
But - fuck.
This time Angel had actually got rid of his stash. He remembered tipping the entire contents down the toilet and flushing before he reached in and grabbed it out. He remembered the look in Husk’s eyes when he’d told him. The pride, and the warmth.
Well, a fat load of good that was doing him now. Husk hated him and there was nothing he could use as a barrier to prevent any of the dark thoughts eating their way through his brain like termites.
Clutching himself, Angel curled in his overly luxurious bed.
It would be alright. He would be alright. Tonight was hard but tomorrow would be better.
‘You know…’ the poison in his mind whispered softly, ‘tonight would be the perfect time to get more.’
Tonight was hard but tomorrow would be better-
‘It’s okay Angel Dust, no one expects better of you anyway.’
Tonight was hard but tomorrow would be-
‘Stupid, useless, whore.’
Tomorrow would be-
Fuck it.
—
Luckily for Angel, presenting himself as completely okay when he was anything but was something of a speciality of his.
Getting to the bar was nothing but a blur of forced positivity, from a mouth that he knew conceptually was his own but could not control.
The push of his companions was cold in the night air of hell, though hell was never really anything colder than tepid. Angel knew very well that the cold came from himself.
As soon as he was inside the bar, life came rushing back. In a blur of alcohol and flashing lights Angel was once again the famous Angel Dust. He bounced from table to table, with increasing desperation that wrapped around him with comfortable casualness.
The blurred faces were no longer people. They were either potential or useless. And Angel didn't have time for anyone useless.
“Hey sweetcheeks!” A growly and slurred voice called. Angel turned to see a group of men edging slowly towards him.
“Hey fellas!” Angel said. As he spoke he scanned the group. They were dressed strangely - suits at a very casual bar. Despite this, their shoes (for those who had the feet to wear them) were scuffed and unkempt. But none of this mattered to Angel. He zeroed in on the pockets.
Bingo.
From the pocket of this suit Angel could just about see a baggie peeking out the top. And, if he knew the branding (and he knew the branding) it was some Good Stuff.
“We heard you’re famous in these parts.” The tallest one leered. His smile was snide and sharp. None of the comfort that Angel had come to expect in smiles. But that didn’t matter. Not at all.
“Yeah?” Angel said, leaning towards him, “What have you heard, sexy?” He pressed his hand gently against Random #1’s chest and slowly moved it downwards.
Random #1 gulped, and quickly adjusted himself.
“We’ve heard many things.” Random #1 replied, his voice a bit more breathy then it was before.
“We’ve heard that all you gotta do is pay Angel Dust a lil price,” Random #2 pulled out the baggie from his pocket. Angel’s eyes followed it, greedily. He ignored the small pang in his heart. “And he’ll do whatever you ask him.” Random #2 reached round and slapped Angel on the ass.
The pain smarted slightly. Random #2 was not light handed in his touches. The ache in Angel’s heart only grew.
“Well, maybe… but I’m not that easy y’know.” Angel said, grinning. Random #3 grabbed him and pulled him close. Angel struggled slightly, suddenly uneasy. “Aye don’t grab a guy like that-” Angel was cut off by a pair of lips suddenly smothering his own.
In the past, and not the distant past but the undefined and nebulous past, Angel would have accepted this. Would have let it happen. Let his body be used as nothing more than an objective currency.
But-
It just felt… wrong.
“Get off of me asshole!” Angel said, sending his elbow into Random # whatever’s side. Said random bent double and glared at Angel. And suddenly everything felt very very real.
And Angel felt very very alone.
“Ha… You’re gonna realize that was not a smart decision Angel Dust.” Random #2 said, towering over Angel.
Angel who could fight back. Who could feel the vibration of the music, and the flashing of the lights.
Who could not move.
“I thought he told you to fuck off.” A very familiar gruff voice came from beside Angel. A gentle hand tapped his own softly. Not a grab, or a pull or a force but an ‘are you okay/ I am here’. Angel's eyes suddenly felt very wet. The world that was already a blur furthered disappeared into a meaningless blob. He grabbed Husks hand and held it like the lifeline it was.
“What are you gonna do short stack?” One of the randoms jeered. Angel lost track of who it was. He just wanted it to be over.
Husk scoffed and smirked up at the group.
“I don’t think it's me you need to worry about.” He said in a calm low tone, before stepping to the side.
His hand never left Angels’.
“Hello my good men!” The screech of radio static buzzed through the air. “I heard you were bothering one of the patrons of my fine hotel. Well I’m sorry but that’s simply not allowed. ” The intensity of the static increased. Angel used his free hand to cover his ears.
A soft tug pulled at Angel's hand. It wasn’t forceful. Always a choice. Always a choice. But Angel, like a man lost at sea, followed the lifeline with hopeful blindness.
“Angel! Are you alright?” Charlie’s voice rang in front of him. Meeting her eyes cautiously Angel saw fear, yes, but no derision, no hatred, no annoyance.
She didn’t care that he’d just been about to sabotage her plans towards enlightenment. She didn’t care that he was some lowly whore whilst she was the daughter of an angelic being turned fallen king. She only loved him, as if they were wretched beings of the same ilk.
Tears fell unbidden from Angel's eyes.
“Can we go back to the hotel please?” he asked in a small voice, wiping away at his tears furiously with his free hand.
‘I love you. Thank you so much. I will never repay you.’ he did not say. But it didn’t seem to matter to anyone.
“I’ll take him back.” Husk said, “I’m pretty tired anyway.”
Charlie frowned.
“If you’re sure. But be careful getting back, we don’t want anyone to hurt you guys.” She said genuinely.
Screams rang out from a previously occupied corner of the bar. Husk smirked..
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, princess.” He turned to Angel, and said, in the most gentle tone possible “Let's get you home.”
Home.
That sounded good.
Angel sniffed pathetically.
“Alright.”
—
“I’m so sorry about all of this Husk.” Angel started, his words slightly slurred. Husk grumbled slightly, whilst pushing Angel up the hotel’s grand stairs.
“You've not done anything wrong baby.” Husk said, voice strained slightly with exertion. Who knew that such a light footed man would be so heavy whilst drunk.
Luckily, Angels room was only on the first floor. Husk was able to push Angel inside who collapsed as a lump on his bed. The room spinned miserably and Angel shut his eyes.
Why was alcohol ever created? Why did he do this to himself?
“It’s a punishment for losers and because you’re stupid.” Husk replied from his position shuffling through Angels clothes trying to find pajamas. It was only then that Angel realized he had spoken aloud.
He groaned and opened his eyes to look at Husk. A beautiful, beautiful man. If Angel could eat him up right here and now, he would. Maybe when the room stopped spinning. Husk’s ears pricked up and his cheeks spun red.
“Oh fuck!” Angel exclaimed dramatically, “I said that part out loud too didn’t I?” he laughed, though it didn't feel very funny. It just felt very tiring.
Angel’s pajamas flew at his face. He struggled through putting them on. Who on earth decided to make garters a thing?
“I’m sorry I’m not usually this messy.” He continued talking,, “I don’t know what's gotten into me. I’m so sorry.” As he spoke his throat became thick with the taste of unshed tears. He closed his eyes again, in an attempt to prevent the tears from falling.
The room fell quiet for a few moments. Angel could only focus on the feeling of his own heart beating with dying embers in his chest. Everything was so much. Was too much.
His bed creaked beside him.
“Hey.” Husk’s low rumbling voice came from beside Angel's head. His ear tingled and he shivered slightly. Ooh, how novel. “Look at me Angel.”
And…
Listen…
Angel had his fair experience in topping, but he was a pathetic power bottom at heart.
Turning his head, his eyes exactly met Husk’s. Husk who was only a few breaths away. The other man’s eyes burnt into his with a dark and deep fire. Angel could recognise the hidden embers of lust, but the rest was an unexplainable mix of changing warm emotions.
“Can I-” Husk stopped himself, and his cheeks went red again. God, the poor man was going to burst a blood vessel doing that. Still, he maintained eye contact. “Can I give you a hug?”
Angels heart thudded in his chest. It was so loud that he was sure Husk could hear it. But whether or not he could hear such a thing, Husk made no move to hug Angel. He waited for Angel to slowly nod before his arms came and pulled Angel into him.
It was strange. Angel had been fucked in every position imaginable. His body had been used in ways that only the most perverted minds could think of. But never before had he melted like this, a complete surrender of every muscle to the body of another.
Even with Angel slumped against him, Husk remained firm. He smelt like an old and well loved pub, that mixture of smoke, alcohol and strong wood.
“I don’t care that you’re a mess. I just wish you’d care about yourself as much as I care about you baby. As much as we all do.” Husk rasped in Angel's ear, his voice almost trembling. A far cry from the usually stoic grumble he usually presented.
Angel’s eyes fluttered closed and he rested his forehead on Husks shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Husk gently stroked the back of his head, pulling lightly through Angel's thick hair.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’ll always be okay.”
Angel yawned and felt his body droop slightly.
“I’m tired.” He leaned backward and looked at Husk in the eye. “Stay?”
The other man didn’t even try to put up a fight, just letting go of Angel and slumping over onto the bed.
“Okay! Goodnight!” Husk said cheerily, before faking loud snores. Angel laughed, the heavy feeling still choking his chest feeling slightly less strong.
He grabbed a pillow and hit the other man.
“Dickhead! At least sleep under the duvet!” He said, the strength of his command lessened by the tremor of laughter in his voice. “What are you, a dog?”
Husk looked at him and his amber eyes narrowed viciously.
“Worse,” he grumbled, “I’m a cat.” He made the motion to pounce, meeting Angel's gaze. Angel nodded and Husk grinned and threw himself at the other man.
Shrieking, Angel made a half-hearted attempt to escape before surrendering in Husk’s arms.
It felt… right- to sleep like this in Husks arms. A veil of safety that Angel had not felt in the years that he had been destroying every net that held him up.
It was not as if the darkness in Angel's head dissipated. Wouldn’t that be a nice dream? But certainly it felt… easier to face. The thought of obscuring this moment with fake and chemical happiness made Angel’s heart ache.
One hug cannot cure anyone, but knowing that there is someone there to catch you when you stumble, it's a nice thought.
A strange rumble vibrated through Angel's back. He shifted slightly, trying to find the source before realizing:
“You purr!?”
Husk groaned, but didn’t move away from Angel.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up asshole.”
Angel grinned evilly. He set his face as innocent as possible, all for the act even though Husk couldn’t see it.
“It’s cute.”
The purring stopped.
Angel’s grin fell, wondering if he’d gone too far.
He opened his mouth to apologize when Husk’s arms dragged him closer. Husk tucked his face into Angel’s shoulder. Angel could feel it burning.
The purring returned, even stronger.
“I hate you.” Husk groaned, words muffled by Angel’s shoulder.
“Sure you do.” Angel said softly, his heart once again picking up pace. How could one grumpy man possibly be so cute?
Angel wanted this moment, this peaceful fragment of time to be captured forever. To never leave. But, alas, sleep comes for us all. And soon, Angel’s eyes slipped close.
—--
Life at the hotel continued as normal. Weird fuckery, abnormal behavior, that one wall refusing to stay up for more then 1 day before another freak broke through it.
And maybe Angel wouldn’t change it for anything.
And maybe his wallet had a new picture, of a particular gray head.
And maybe, just maybe, in the depths of the night, Angel would murmur all of these possibilities into the waiting arms of one who loved him.