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It was a feeling that had haunted Angel since he was a dumb, skinny, lanky teenager.
It was a strange feeling. He was fifteen now, all his high school friends were having affairs, Molly was visited by suitors every day, but they'd run away as soon as they saw the look in their big brother's eyes. Anthony was thankful at least in this for his shitty brother, most of Molly's suitors were assholes. But honestly, he couldn't help but look at it with a sort of longing in his heart. Because of his skinniness and lankiness, none of the girls wanted to pay attention to him. Though, truth be told, it wasn't that he cared about them. He didn't want to imagine walking through parks with one of them holding hands and kissing. The thought made him sick to his stomach. But at least he hoped that soon he could find the one he could love with all his heart.
He felt good. How wonderful it felt. In fact, it was literally the best moment he'd had in months. He loved kissing this man. He sat on his knees as strong hands touched him. How it ignited desire in him. A desire to continue in a slightly different position. A desire to feel more of this affection. A desire for more of this intimacy colored by filthy lust and passion. Anthony's fingers performed an uncomplicated dance on the man's shoulders, gradually descending and undoing the first buttons, groping the firm chest of the man with whom he was now exchanging saliva. He was already anticipating the pleasure that was about to come; he didn't care about the world around him, he wanted to give himself over to these feelings.
"Fuck!" the man pulled away from Anthony's lips and yelled, "Sorry babe, my son's piano lesson is about to end, I have to take him home," the man pushed Anthony away from him and started smoothing his shirt and buttoning it, "We'll continue this later. The usual, okay sweetie?" He looked in the mirror and then grabbed his briefcase and ran out of the apartment with lightning speed.
With the sound of the slamming door, Anthony felt as if he had fallen into an abyss. He stared at the same point for a while, trying to make sense of what had just happened. A sudden rage seized his mind. A desperate scream hit the walls of the apartment. Anthony covered his face with his palms, muffling the throat-wrenching growl, and collapsed onto the bed. He hated his position. No matter how many men he screwed over, it ended up the same. They all chose the easiest option available, leaving Anthony behind.
He couldn't take it anymore. Anthony reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a small bag of white powder from there. He sprinkled some onto the surface of the table, creating a white trail with a crumpled five dollar bill that that escaped freak had forgotten. Only one drag separated him from the enjoyment he didn't get with those bastards who dumped him time after time. In truth, he just hoped it would all be over soon.
"Valentino, I'm actually not in the mood today..." Angel was rather tired after the photo shoots that had lasted all day. His boyfriend, part-time boss, with whom he had started collaborating recently had climbed into bed with him, clearly asking for a passionate continuation of the night.
"What do you mean, not in the mood, babe?" Valentino pressed himself harder against the spider's body, running a wet tongue along his neck.
"I've been working hard, really, Val, that's enough," Angel whimpers pitifully already, pushing her boss slightly away from her.
Valentino looks at Angel with an already irritated look, the spider feels the claws clenching on his waist, "I want to fuck you, Angel Dust," the pimp grits out through gritted teeth.
"Val, I don't-" he was interrupted by a slap.
"I give you fucking shelter, food and money, whore! You fucking fuck all MY employees every fucking day, but you're not in the mood to take another cock up your flat ass?" Valentino loomed over the spider and pinned all of Angel's arms to the bed with terrible force. Angel's breathing was cut off and animal fear began to reflect in his eyes. "Fucking slut!" Valentino flipped the one over his stomach and grabbed all four of the spider's palms in one of his own and with the other he removed his belt, "get all your hands out," he ordered.
"Val, stop, I, please-" he was jabbed face-first into the pillow, silencing him.
"Hands. Out. Now," the pimp squeezed the thin hands harder. It would probably leave a bruise afterward.
Angel pulled out his third pair of hands, which were immediately picked up by the demon standing over him. Valentino joined all six hands together and tied them tightly with his belt.
"Now daddy is going to show me how good boys should behave," hot breath burned the spider's neck and cheekbones as Val lifted his head by his hair, "Why the fuck should I ask some whore to give me her ass? I haven't stooped to that level yet, Angel, you fucking bitch," the spider could hear the gloating smile in the voice above him.
Angel knew - this was going to hurt. He had to respond differently. He knew how Val would react, after all. He should have agreed, then it wouldn't have been accompanied by such aggression.
He heard Valentino getting rid of his pants and underwear. Behind him, there were obscene slaps and squeaky moans. God, Angel just hoped Valentino was just in a bad mood tonight and it wouldn't happen again.
Weekdays at this seemingly shitty hotel were fun. His gradual bonding with the hotel crew had really helped lately. The princess had been nice to him. The other residents were nice. That snake sometimes amused Angel with its silliness. Niffty was... Special? Well, sometimes it was fun to discuss hot men in magazines with her. She had her own skeletons in her closet that Angel was in no hurry to find out about.
And the bartender he'd taken such a liking to on his first day was probably Angel's favorite. At first it had been fun trying to get him into bed, to get him emotional. But after a few acts of rapprochement between them, there was a reign of... Angel dares to call it friendship? Well, how could it not be? They had sweet-talked to each other in the evenings, sharing this or that detail of their past, sharing problems and supporting each other in rare moments.
But recent events had turned Angel's relationship with the bartender upside down. He'd noticed how much Husk cared for him. Supported him in difficult moments, noticed the smallest details in the spider, what was only worth their drunken conversations in the bar.
And then Angel realized that he valued this man more than he thought. It turns out that every time Husk gets close enough to his ear to whisper a joke about one of the regulars in their presence Angel feels not shameless arousal, but those same boasted butterflies in his stomach. Every time they share an overly private moment and Angel's entire face floods with a blush doesn't mean Husk is turned on by the moment. He didn't just want sex with the handsome bartender, he harbored feelings for him of a more intimate nature than sex. He wanted to spend more time with him, to share in the joyous moments of life. Hug him, kiss him, talk to him. Love. At that word, Angel's heart hammered harder.
Spider looked at the culprit for putting so many new feelings in Angel's mind. Husk had fallen asleep behind the bar while they were talking. During their conversation, Angel could see how much Husk wanted to sleep. But to all of the spider's requests, he replied that it was okay until the porn star let him just fall asleep on the bar top.
Husk was very cute when he slept. The porn star contemplated the bartender's face. His cute heart-shaped nose twitched, his frown finally relaxing. A pink gloved hand reached out to the sinner's forehead, allowing herself to stroke the other. The feeling of painful affection pricked the sinner's heart again. He could only allow himself to hope that maybe, someday.... It would happen.