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The scene was bright, loud and erotic, just how Husk liked it. Another win, one more loss…all part of the game, Husk thought. With debts and the lingering haze of liquor clouding his mind, he rose from his soft velvet-cushioned barstool, the metal scraping against the checkered tiles underfoot. Yet, despite the heaviness in his chest, a flicker of hope ignited within him. What if the next turn of fate could transform his fortune? The night was young, and somewhere within the bar’s dim light, possibilities awaited. Husk knew he wasn't leaving anytime soon, tonight, tomorrow, or in the foreseeable future. This dirty rat-infested casino was his home.
Regardless of his impending future misfortunes and unpaid debts, Husk was still the overlord of this casino. He still had all the power, all the fame, more money than he knew what to do with.
He just tried to distract himself from how fast that money was draining.
He wiped his chin, gathering the drops of liquor that had stained his fur. Bottle gripped tightly in one hand, the other steadying himself against the wall, he stumbled to the top of the grand staircase leading down to the main floor of the casino. The splintered red carpet sank under his heavy footsteps with each shaky step, and one of his guards had to loop an arm with his to keep him from falling over. “Thanks, doll.” He mumbled, slinging his arm over the demon’s shoulder and leaning against them as he walked. They let him do it. Of course they did. How would they refuse the demon who owned their soul? And, perhaps, with a couple more lucky bets, he could have a couple more additions to his roster.
Husk and his ornate glass of amber scotch sauntered not-so-elegantly towards the main stage and took his reserved seat, which was more of a freshly-fluffed throne. There was a small one-eyed demon on stage in a torn and bloodied uniform, which Valentino’s employees wore. She swung erratically, almost drunkenly, around a silver pole. Even from a distance, Husk could see the layers of grime caked on and around the girl's broken fingernails. They looked like she had scratched them nearly off. What had Valentino subjected this poor girl to?
Husk scrutinized her, observing the way her eyes drooped, glassy, as if she were in a whole other world. In all his days in hell, Husk never liked that overlord. It wasn’t like him to take the moral high ground, but at least all the souls he owned didn’t look an inch from death’s door at any given time. It’d be a bit more acceptable if he weren’t bringing his beaten-down ‘employees’ to his casino. Nothing killed the mood more than a beautiful demon looking like they were about to keel over. He took a long swig of his scotch, readying to stand and tell her how lousy her performance was and that she should get a drink and rest (he’d never muster up the nerve to admit he was a tad worried about her).
Before Husk could interrupt, Valentino, the moth-demon overlord, strutted on stage in all his sick glory and kicked the poor demon girl with his sharpened heel, shouting orders as his personal staff dragged her away. Husk knew this girl would never see the inside of this casino again–or any building other than the puke-covered alley out back of Valentino’s filming studio. Husk couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy for the girl; he had passed this alley many times. This alley was where Valentino’s broken sex-slaves languished, riddled with debt and addiction, both ravaged and then forgotten by lustful sinners.
Husk drained his scotch, then again, and once more. Each time, the glass was instantly flooded with the smooth liquor by his personal bartender. Husk drank to forget his horrors, his shame, his neglect to action in these situations–and it worked.
One of Husk's workers, a grungy-striped casino demon named Darren, futilely attempted to wipe the pole free of any remaining grime from the event that had just unfolded. The last and final act of the night began. The moon's light shone boldly through the domed skylight above the stage, enveloping it in a cold glow. A salacious silhouette stole Husk’s attention from the twinkling stars above. A tall white spider demon lay on a black lacquered grand piano, back facing the audience. Husk watched the figure, drinking in his soft furry white angles clashing with the harsh sparkling black corset and rouge high-split floor-length skirt. Another demon had sat down at the piano, but Husk barely even registered them, even as they began to play expertly. His focus was entirely on the way the spotlight shone down on the dancer, glinting off the jet-black sequins that adorned his corset like a constellation of stars. He gripped his glass of scotch tighter, taking a long sip and leaning back in his seat. But, somehow, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
He didn’t know what it was that captivated him about this one more than the others. But he had a suspicion it was because of just how… comfortable, this stranger looked. It was always difficult to watch Valentino’s indentured souls take the stage. Their gaze would always shift this way and that, their smile too tight, their eyes too droopy. But this one moved confidently, with a certain grace in every step and a glint in the eyes. His voice flowed through the room with each word he sang, and, huh. It really was a beautiful voice, wasn’t it? Husk set down his glass, sitting up to pay the demon his full and undivided attention.
He found himself transfixed on every little movement. The unfurl of his fingers as he gestured to the audience, the movement of his lips as they formed each word, the slow steps toward the edge of the stage. Crowd working wasn’t uncommon for performers, and certainly not unusual for them to try and catch his favour with one move or another. But when the man began to approach him, Husk felt an unusual sensation. Somehow, his heart began to beat just a little faster, a little breath drawn from his lips. As he got closer, Husk could notice more details about him. The fur that covered his body looked strangely soft, and the place where his long skirt split to reveal a hint of skin just above his thigh-high boots… When he looked up again, the demon was right before him, so close he almost jumped out of his seat.
While he sang, he took Husk’s chin, tilting it up with a gentle touch. Husk would typically knock such advances away, but this time, something froze him to his seat. His eyes were on him, entranced by the way the light seemed to play off of them. And when the demon lifted a bottle of wine from a passing waiter and placed the rim on Husk’s lips, he parted them without a second thought. He let those slender, gentle hands slowly, carefully tip his head back, and when the first taste of wine hit his tongue, he let his eyes close, relaxing into it, cheeks burning with far more than liquor.
When his hands pulled away from him, he almost chased them, leaning forward in his seat. The demon set the wine down at the table by his throne, blowing him a kiss before continuing his performance.
Husk’s fur was standing on end.
He raised his hand to his face, gingerly touching the spot of fur the demon’s fingers had been caressing moments before. It was as if he could still feel the ghosts of them, grazing his chin, guiding him back to pour that liquid love down his throat. He took a glance at the bottle, then back at the performing stranger, swallowing the sudden buildup of saliva in his mouth. He didn’t know if it was him or the alcohol talking when he suddenly wished those hands had lingered a little longer. He wished they had moved to his cheeks, next. His neck. Lower.
What dangerous thoughts. It wasn’t like him to get so worked up, not like this. And even though he’d long accepted that he swung that way, it was never not jarring to feel such… attraction to a fellow man. But, somehow, it felt much easier this time. Perhaps it really was the alcohol talking.
He didn’t even bother to deny that he was disappointed when the song ended. The crowd erupted in applause and wolf whistles, and the demon on stage waved with a bright smile on his face. Then, his eyes slid over to meet Husk’s. He almost felt a shiver run through him when he saw him tilt his head, as if asking for his approval. It really was easy to forget he was an overlord when he was this buzzed and flustered. He gave him what he hoped was a charming smile in return, nodding and joining the crowd’s clapping. The demon, seemingly pleased, took a bow, and the stage went dark once more.
Husk rubbed at his sore temples, still feeling that unfamiliar stirring in his gut. Did that damn stranger have a hypnosis ability of some kind? Not unheard of in hell. But the crueller reality he was starting to come to terms with was that it was all his own foolish emotions that had caused his plight. The stage came back alive with another show, but Husk didn’t stick around for it. Not when he saw a glimpse of furry white out of the corner of his eye, heading towards the open bar.
With Husk’s impaired judgement, the decision was not hard to make. Pretty much the moment that the stranger sat down, he was sliding up beside him, not even bothering to hide where his eyes were lingering.
“Hey, doll…” He let his voice drawl. “Lookin’ for some company?”
He tilted his head, a teasing little smile forming on his face. “That depends, what kinda company are ya offering?”
His voice was different when he wasn’t singing. It was a little rougher, lower. Husk found himself hypnotized by it nonetheless. “Mm… the very good kind, I assure you.”
The man laughed, propping his cute pink cheek up on the palm of his hand. “Not every day I get approached by a bigshot like you… Whatever could you want from lil ol’ me?” He gestured to himself grandly, despite the self-conscious comment.
Husk laughed. “Oh, c’mon. I know for a fact you’re drownin’ in free drinks wherever you go.” He waved down the bartender. “Let me add one more to the mix. What’s your poison, baby?”
The man raised his brows, looking intrigued. “Gonna buy me a drink? Well, then… a scotch will do just fine.”
Husk relayed it to the barkeep and another for himself because why not? Husk looked his acquaintance up and down. “Oh? Didn’t take you for a fan of hard liquor.”
“What? Do I look like I can’t handle it?”
“No… in fact, you look like you’ve got secrets.” Husk’s voice was a low drawl. Even he could hear just how drunk he sounded, and the last few shreds of sober thought within him cringed: Can’t have that Husk thought, generously gulping his scotch. “What’s your name, sugar?”
“Been a while since I heard someone ask that.”
“Why? Ya some kind of star I somehow missed?”
“...Not very active in the pleasure scene, are you? I guess someone like you never really has to pay for someone to warm his bed…” He brushed a hand through his hair, or his wig, his one gold tooth flashing in the light as he grinned. “Angel Dust. Want to write that one down, kitty?”
He usually hated cutesy pet names, especially ones that commented on his demon appearance, but something about hearing this guy say it sent the strangest thrill through him. Perhaps it really was the alcohol.
“Angel Dust…” He repeated, testing the name on his tongue. It suited the demon before him, in some strange way. ‘Angel’ wasn’t a word he’d use to describe many folks down there, but this man, with his soft, fluffy features, his gentle colours, those hooded eyes that were staring right into his? If there was someone here who fit the term, it was him. “Angel indeed.”
They both chuckled and fell into easy conversation. Angel Dust was surprisingly good company. He was as charming in words as he was on stage, and Husk’s focus had begun to drift from his body to his voice.
The gentle ease of their conversation provided a soothing balm for Husk's chaotic thoughts, calming his alcohol-laden senses. “I think the kitty is getting tired,” Angel said playfully, his gentle fingers brushing Husk’s soft cheek fluff. Though Husk usually bristled at being treated like a child, there was an undeniable warmth in Angel's nurturing tone that brought him comfort and made him feel cared for. Husk let out an unholy noise and blushed, not sure how to respond to Angel’s kind words.
Husk inwardly chastised himself; he really should be able to hold his liquor better than this… Angel’s deep, husky voice wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, momentarily grounding Husk amid the chaotic swirl of sights and sounds that overwhelmed his senses. The brightly lit room buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. The aura of the casino throbbed with life, heightening Husk’s realization of just how disorienting the evening had become. “I guess I am pretty tired,” he chuckled, a wry smile slipping onto his lips just before he clumsily knocked over his seemingly bottomless glass of scotch.
The rich amber liquid splashed across Angel’s exquisite gown, staining the fabric in a way that made Husk’s stomach drop with guilt. His heart raced as horrified apologies tumbled from his lips, each word spilling out like a frantic plea. He fumbled in a desperate attempt to wipe the splashes from Angel’s beautiful, long legs and the graceful curve of his body, feeling the texture of the gown and the warmth of his fur under his touch. Surprisingly, Angel didn’t seem upset at all. And even in this state, Husk reckoned it was because he wasn’t the one who bought the dress in the first place, or maybe he was used to having sleazy drunkards stumbling around him. His mood soured at the thought, but he couldn’t linger on it long when Angel extended a lithe, muscled arm toward him, exuding an air of unbothered seductive magnificence as he gently lowered Husk's frantic hands down to rest in his lap. “It’s alright doll, but I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” Angel echoed Husk’s pet name for him, which soothed his hammering heart.
“...fuckin’ gorgeous, y’know that?” Husk mumbled, a slightly dizzy chuckle tumbling from his lips. “Bed? Nah… it takes more than a little liquor to bring me down. Trust me, sweetheart, I’m fit for a little fun…”
“You got the cash to pay for a night?”
He paused, opening his mouth to speak but quickly closing it again. Angel laughed, patting Husk on the cheek affectionately. “That’s what I thought, kitty. I don’t come for free, ya know.”
Husk clicked his tongue in irritation, ears drooping as he looked to the side.
“I might be convinced to make an exception for you.”
His ears immediately perked up again, standing at full attention as his eyes snapped back to Angel’s. “Would you, now?”
He smiled, pinching his cheek before letting it go. “...When you sober up.”
He let out a groan, and Angel laughed, standing up from his seat. He glanced around the room before retaking Husk’s hands, gently guiding him to his feet. Husk followed his gaze, heart dropping as he realized the moth demon, Valentino, was right on the other side of the room, staring daggers at them with a grin on his face. Still, his expression was indecipherable, and Husk couldn’t tell if that narrowing of his blank crimson eyes was pleasure or anger. Angel’s grip tightened on Husk’s hands, his pretty face tensing just a little.
“Say, love… Why don’t we help each other out a little bit?” Angel’s warm touch trailed to his wrist gently. “You need someone to take you home.”
“What? I’m perfectly– perfectly capable–” Husk’s voice had grown a little more slurred, swaying on his feet. Angel’s arms wrapped around him before he could fall over, and when his head hit his fluffy chest, all the fight immediately drained from his body, and he barely could restrain himself from purring as his eyes closed. “Ugh… walking home is fine… good…”
Angel gave a warm laugh, looping an arm under his and letting him lean against him. Husk watched his face, the glances he cast to the other side of the room, the seemingly relieved smile on Angel’s face… It was honestly intoxicating to see it. He looked… happy, to be leaving with him. It had been so long since someone looked that way around him, the steadily falling overlord.
Angel and Husk fell into a leisurely stroll, the latter’s footsteps clanking on the cobblestone corner clumsily. Angel spoke, his words melting around Husk as they walked down the street. Thankfully, Husk had enough sense to recognize his ups and downs, prompting Angel to give him directions. After 20-ish minutes of the two’s gander, they arrived. “This one!” Husk said, and was shocked at his directional ability despite his night’s indulgences.
“Let’s get you into bed, kitty.” Angel lifted Husk over his shoulder as the steps may have finally done his drunken gait in.
Husk was caught off guard at his unexpected strength, going limp for a moment in his arms. He may have struggled if he were sober, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was relax into it. He let himself be carried, head resting against his. “T’anks, doll, but I can take it from ‘ere.” Husk slurred as he kicked his furry horizontal legs in a futile attempt to walk himself inside.
“Oh, no you don’t. You can barely walk, let alone get yourself up the steps. C’mon, show me where your room is.”
“D… the hall, left…” He groaned out, voice even raspier than usual.
“You got a nice place here.”
“I know.” He tried not to think about the fact that it could be ripped from him at any moment. It was getting difficult even to pay off his gambling debts, let alone to keep funding such a grandiose place to live. He had been so happy to own it after a lifetime of slumming it, and now, it was looking like he’d soon have to fall into more old habits than he would have liked.
The next thing Husk felt was soft velvet pillows and silk sheets, and a wet cloth wiping his cheek fluff. Normally, Husk would have been livid with this, but something about this tall gentleman’s soft gaze and gentle touch quieted Husk’s embarrassment. “Water…please,” Husk mumbled, his mouth pasty and sour from scotch and drunken bile.
“Coming right up, kitty.” Angel returned some time later with a giant leopard print mug with two dice on them, saying, “Blow me for luck.”
Husk saw the unfortunate mug Angel grabbed and groaned, his hands pressing against his eyes; he was embarrassed.
Angel tipped the first one against Husk’s lips, echoing the evenings past endeavours, this time with even more impossible gentleness. “All right kitty, I’ve gotta get going…you gonna be alright?”
Husk glanced around his room, his imposing loneliness screaming its opposition to this fine gentleman leaving him all alone, and let his newfound fierce loyalty to this man speak for him, “Please stay…”
And just like that, Angel stayed. First, for just the night, then another. Husk and Angel fell into easy companionship as their love for each other blossomed into something to be envious of. Husk eventually came clean about his gambling addiction to Angel, and Angel set him up in a rehab program, which was successful. Angel quit working at Valentino’s and started his own very successful stripper business, hiring the marginalized demons broken from the sex-slave market, and allowing them to refind themselves through other channels of the company.
With each other, there was no way to go but up.