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Husk only allows himself to waffle over going after Angel for a moment. Storming out was a dick move, he knows that, but lingering in the lobby was even worse — there is so little that Angel keeps private, but sinners' lives are off-limits; strictly don't ask/don't tell. Husk doesn't know if Angel offered his past to Valentino willingly, but he clearly didn't offer it to Vox, and certainly not to Charlie.
His knuckles have barely brushed the door when Angel shouts, "I said fuck off, Charlie."
"It's me," Husk says, and his voice comes out all thick and hoarse with emotion.
"Fuck off, Husk!"
"No!" Husk takes a deep breath and studies the Polaroids tacked to Angel's door: Husk and Cherri, candid, talking across the bar; Fat Nuggets in his bed, and Angel's bed, and wearing a tiny hoodie; Charlie and Vaggie making heart hands at the camera. "Look, kid, I'm sorry I shouted at you. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fucking okay!"
"No, you ain't!"
There's a shuffle, and then Angel's door cracks open just enough for Husk to see one eye glaring down at him. "You aren't gonna leave, are you?"
"Nope. I'm just gonna stand here in the hallway, shouting, like an asshole until you let me in."
Angel's yellow eye rolls — it's an elaborate production, his eyes are fucking huge — and he swings the door open. "Fine, get the fuck in here, then. Shut the door behind you."
Husk slams the door behind him while Angel flops onto his back on his bed. The only other place to sit in Angel's room is a prissy little chair at his vanity, so Husk sits there, and he immediately clocks the empty dime bag on Angel's vanity. He judiciously decides not to say anything about it — it will just start another fight, and Angel needs somebody in his corner right now.
"What do you want?" Angel asks after staring at the ceiling for a full minute of silence.
"I want to say I'm sorry for yelling at you. And to…" he rolls his eyes. "I don't know, I thought you might want to talk about it, okay? Or not talk about it. Some company."
Angel sits up enough to narrow all eight of his eyes at Husk; it's really fucking unsettling. "You heard."
"Heard what?" When Angel's secondary eyes all open wide, glowing and angry, he gives up immediately. "Yeah, okay, I fucking heard. I'm sorry, Angel. Nobody should be — it's no one's business."
Angel huffs. "It's so fucking stupid. Like, obviously, I'm — I'm here for a reason, but…" He bites his lip hard enough that a little red blood spot dots his white fur where his gold tooth digs in. Husk wants to pull his skin from his teeth with the tip of a claw, but he keeps his hands to himself. Finally: "Husk, did you ever kill anybody?" Before Husk can respond, he adds, "when you were alive, I mean."
Husk takes a deep breath, but it must be in his eyes.
"Yeah, I knew it," Angel says.
"We ain't talking about me," Husk says as evenly as he can. "Angel —"
"And Charlie," Angel bursts out. "I fucking told her to keep the Vees away, I told her they're bad fucking news! Didn't she learn her lesson last time? When she —" He growls wordlessly, and Husk knows the rest of that story, remembers it well, the night he got to see behind Angel's mask and start to get to know the man underneath. Angel never said exactly what Val did to him that day after Charlie left, and Husk didn't ask, but he can take an educated guess. "She's just as bad as an Overlord sometimes! This is my fucking life she's playing with!"
Husk grimaces. "You know, I don't think she even knows that I'm not here by choice."
Angel sits up and brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his lower arms around his legs. "Everyone knows that."
"I think she thinks that Al is like…my boss."
Angel cocks his head. "I mean…he is…"
Husk closes his eyes and tips his head back until his neck cracks. "My contract ain't like yours. I told you I sold my soul to keep my Overlord power, yeah?" He looks up.
Angel nods like he doesn't really get it.
"He can't take my power away from me, but I'm on the leash 24-fucking-7. When I said he's forcing me to be here, I didn't mean 'he's my boss and I have to.' I meant there is no choice. He wants me here, I'm here."
"Husk…"
"I'm not complainin', and I'm not attacking Charlie. She's a good kid. But she's a princess. She doesn't know what it's like for guys like us."
"What was it like? Being an Overlord?"
"Angel…"
Angel's brow furrows into a tragic pout. "Please?"
"It wasn't worth the price."
"That's not what I asked."
Husk sighs and gets to his feet. "Move over."
"Husky, if you wanted into my bed —"
"Do you want me to tell you or not?"
Angel smiles, a tiny, gentle thing that makes Husk want to drive a knife into his own heart, and scoots over, up against the tufted pink headboard. Husk settles beside him.
"I didn't have the sort of power that Alastor and the Vees have," Husk says.
"I mean, I'd shit-sure never heard a' you," Angel agrees.
"Shut up and listen. I didn't have that level of power. There are a lot of power sources in hell — a lot of 'em aren't really explainable, same kind of magic that gives the Sins their power. But I had natural aptitude to start with."
"Natural aptitude for gambling?"
Husk feels his face heating. "For magic."
"You literally just said —"
"Sleight of hand," Husk elaborates, and bravely resists the urge to hide his face in his hands.
"Sleight of —"
"Stage magic, okay? When I was alive, I was a stage magician."
Angel laughs, and it's like Christmas. "A stage magi— Husk. Like Houdini?"
"Christ, you're old," Husk says. "Sure. Like Houdini."
"When I was alive," Angel says, "I was a capo."
They let that statement float out into the air for a minute.
"I went into major debt playing table games," Husk says, "worked for the casino to pay it off — and I drew in crowds, I could play the keys and the sax, do magic, I tended bar sometimes. Whatever they needed.
"It was like all my talents got turned up when I landed here, and so did my appetite. The first time someone threw their soul in the pot…it was the thrill of it, understand? I never set out to hurt anyone, but I was too selfish to care if I did."
"I get needing a hit that bad," Angel says softly. He slides his hand into Husk's tentatively — his hand is so small and warm. "So badly you don't care who you hurt. Who you leave behind."
"I was gambling for the thrill, and the power made me cocky. Made me feel invincible. That's the nature of power in Hell —"
"That's the nature of power everywhere," Angel says a little sharply.
Husk sets his jaw and waits.
"He put hands on my sister," Angel says at length. "That ain't the whole story, but…Molly was my twin. She was my everything. The only person who ever really knew me and really loved me. She was the only thing off-limits to my father. Not my brother and me, not Ma. But Molly — she was the baby, the princess, and he didn't touch her. And then he did." He heaves a deep breath. "It is what it is."
"I didn't know you had a sister."
A smile ghosts its way across Angel's face, there and gone. "She ain't down here. She's…"
The pieces come together so fast Husk feels them click. "That's why you care about redemption."
Angel laughs. "Heaven doesn't even sound fucking fun, y'know? Like, imagine me, in celibacy central. What would I even do with myself if I couldn't fight or fuck? But — if I could see Molly again, if I could tell her how sorry I am?"
Something hot like anger creeps its way back up Husk's spine. "And how do you think she'd feel if you threw your fuckin' life away for nothing?"
Angel rips his hand out of Husk's and scrambles to his feet. "Wait, is that why you got so pissed? You think I was just being reckless? I was trying to save you, you asshole!"
Husk stands up too, on the opposite side of Angel's bed. "I ain't worth it!"
Angel huffs, making his hair flutter. "You talk big about everybody else's problems, but this self-deprecating schtick has really worn out its welcome, y'know? We all suck, Husk. We're in fucking actual Hell. Whatever Worst Guy in the Room award they were giving you at your twelve-step program? You ain't winning it down here, do you fucking get that?"
Husk tucks his chin, chagrined. "You don't know —"
"I don't care! You are everything, you idiot! If it weren't for you, I would be strung out in Valentino's bedroom right now, not even considering that maybe, just maybe I'd see my sister again someday."
"It's Charlie's hotel," Husk tries.
"Yeah, but Charlie didn't chase me down and literally pull me out of a gutter and murder like four loan sharks with magic playing cards for me, did she?"
"Anyone could have —"
"But nobody else did, Husk." Angel sighs like what he's about to say is going to hurt him. "Tonight was a nightmare, and it made my life more difficult, again, and I am pissed at Charlie, and at you, and I might have some words for Niffty, too, frankly, but if I saw a train coming down on you again I'd jump in front of it. And that had nothing to do with Charlie's stupid self-sacrifice bullshit. I'd save you, Husk."
Husk doesn't really know what to say to that. Not a lot of people have gotten close to him in Hell. Al was maybe his friend for a minute before shit got irrevocably fucked between them, and Niffty is basically family, but nobody has ever touched him the way the Hazbins have, and certainly none of them like Angel Dust. And here's Angel telling him, like it's nothing, that he's something worth dying for. It's overwhelming.
And it's fucking stupid, still.
"I meant what I said," Husk says gruffly.
"What, that you'd spank me?" Angel rolls his eyes. "Shitty of you to say in front of Vox, by the way. Like, talk however you want when it's just us from the hotel, but the Vees are off fucking limits."
"Not that," Husk says, flushing hard. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Yeah, I know you didn't." Angel's tone is flat. "You never will. It's all fine, Husk, okay? It is what it is. I'm…I'll need to have a different conversation with Charlie. But you can consider us square, alright?" He turns to his vanity and starts poking at his face in an intentional sort of way that Husk doesn't understand, which is as clear a dismissal as any.
Except…"What do you mean, I 'never will?' All I meant is that I was flustered in the moment, and my knee-jerk reaction was shitty, and I pivoted and I…I wanted you to know how fucking mad I was, but I didn't wanna scare ya."
Angel snorts, still investigating his invisible flaws in his mirror. "You don't scare me."
"I know that!" Husk growls ineffectively. "I just meant that I'm sorry for putting you in that position, okay?"
"Okay. Noted."
"And I didn't want you to think I would hurt you. But I'm still mad, and if you pull shit like that again I'll be mad again, because you can't throw your life away, Angel."
"Husk. I threw my life away seventy-eight years ago." Angel sits back down on the bed. "I know you and Charlie really want this redemption shit to work out, and I'm not…I'm not against it. But I've been down here a long time, and the last eight months are the first time I've even come close to happiness in — in decades. I'm not itching to give that up."
Husk should have had a drink before he came up here. He's lagging in this conversation. "But your sister?"
"Is the main reason I'm even considering any of this bullshit. And getting away from Val is a very close second. But I've actually known Cherri longer than I knew Molly — almost forty years, longer than I lived. And Husk, I've never known anyone like you, alive or dead."
"I'm sure you knew your share of deadbeat alcoholics," Husk manages weakly.
Angel huffs. "It's like you're not even fuckin' listening to me!"
Husk sits back down, and Angel doesn't stop him. "What did that mean, 'I never will?'"
"Huh?" Angel's face shifts from annoyed to confused so dramatically that Husk would laugh if this whole conversation didn't feel like handling fucking molten glass.
"I said 'I didn't mean it like that,' and you said 'you never will.' The fuck was that?"
To Husk's fascination, Angel blushes. Angel doesn't blush — he flushes, when he is exceptionally drunk, but he's Hell's most famous porn star for a reason, and he does not embarrass easily. His eyes narrow, and he shoves his tongue into his cheek. Finally he says, voice only rising a little, "It means that I know you only flirt with me because you're bored and you feel bad for me and it's fine, because we're friends, but that doesn't mean I don't still want more, okay? And I try not to press your boundaries anymore, which is not easy for me, you know I chase what I want!" His hands are flying everywhere, and there's fucking four of them — Husk can actually feel a breeze off it. "I know you don't want me like I want you and it's fine — it has to be fine — but don't play dumb about it, asshole!"
Husk blinks like he's trying to clear dust from his eyes. Huh? "You flirt with everyone," he says, which, good job, buddy, that's the worst anyone's ever done it. Angel's eyes go really wide and his lip wavers and for a stomach-dropping moment, Husk thinks he's going to cry. He pushes on. "I mean, I — you're playful, I like that about you," he tries. Marginally better.
"Christ," Angel says, spits like it's bitter on his tongue. "You are one dense motherfucker, you know that?"
Uh, no. Despite his spectacular failure with Angel all those months ago, Husk still prides himself on his ability to read people. More of that intrinsic talent he told Angel about — you can only bluff if you can read a bluff, too. "Angel," and why does his voice crack like that? Husk's voice hasn't cracked in something like eighty years.
Angel gets so close that Husk's eyes cross the tiniest bit to keep him in focus. "I like you, Husk. I like hanging out with you, I like listening to you, I like fighting with you, and I have wanted to do filthy fucking things with you since the moment I met ya. And I can accept that you don't want me like that but please, you gotta stop toying with me."
Husk's skin is buzzing. "I…Angel —"
"Fuck, Husk, don't. You can just leave, okay? You don't have to drag it out."
The urge to run away is like a hook in Husk's gut — but he gets the real sense that this is his last chance. There are a lot of those, in Hell. He's gotten really good at waving at them as they pass him by. This time, he wants to grab it. Wring it out, see what happens. He opens his mouth.
"Please," Angel Dust says, his eyes fucking massive and wet, and Husk never ever wants Angel to plead with him again. He never wants Angel to need to ask him for anything, ever again.
Husk still doesn't know what he's going to say, but he's gotta say something. Anything, to make Angel stop using that tone, stop making that heartbreaking face. He opens his mouth. "I think I'm in love with you."
Well, fuck.
Angel's face hardens. Which isn't as bad. But it's still fucking bad. "Get out." And then he blows up, tears spilling over, and Husk hasn't seen him like this since he found him in that fucking bar, and he says, "get the fuck out of my room," in a voice that scrapes up his throat like rock salt, "think you can mock me like that —"
Fuck! "Fuck! Angel! Shut the hell up for one God damned second, hell!" Husk grabs Angel's two foremost hands, and Angel puts the lower ones on top of Husk's and breathes heavily and doesn't say anything, his chest heaving. "I'm in love with you, loser."
Angel shakes his head — or maybe his whole body is shaking. "Husk, don't fucking say that shit to me if you —"
"I mean it," Husk says, and he's not surprised by the truth of it, even if he didn't know it until now. He thinks that it's been sitting in him for awhile now, right next to his heart, just waiting for the right moment to crawl up his throat and out of his mouth.
Angel takes his hands back to cover his face with all four of them. "Husk, I can't —"
Husk puts a hand on his shoulder. He's shaking hard. "I know."
"But I —"
"Angel Dust. You jumped in front of a fucking train for me, no hesitation. I know, okay?"
Angel drops his hands into his lap to smile at Husk in a way that feels like the moon and all the stars. "You do?"
Husk's ears flatten. "Can I —"
Angel nods, breathing evenly.
Husk leans in — and up, even sitting Angel has inches on him — and has Husk ever told someone he loved them before he even kissed them? Not for long, though. Angel's lips are soft and warm and he tastes like blood and white sugar. His hands are on Husk's shoulders, and on his hips, and shoving his hat backwards off him to tangle in his hair, there are so fucking many of them. "I love you," Husk says, like he's opened a dam, and Angel inhales the words like smoke into his mouth and kisses them back into Husk's. Husk pulls back, to make eye contact. "I mean it. In every way I can."
Angel chews on the inside of his cheek and nods, and nods. "I believe you," he says, "I know."
Feels weird to smile today. After Vox, and the train, and everything. But Husk smiles, and Angel smiles back, and it's so much that Husk didn't know he was allowed. It's everything.