Work Text:
When Angel convinced Husk to snag a bottle of booze from the bar and follow him upstairs, this wasn’t exactly where he thought the night would lead them. They’re both sitting on the floor next to Angel’s bed, an old Monopoly board filling the space between them, colorful bills and bent property cards scattered around. He forgot he had this game, not even sure where he’d picked it up to begin with, but when Husk saw it his eyes lit up. Angel had no choice but to agree to play, somehow forgetting that this game could last for hours. He had changed into a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts while Husk set up the board, then sat down with Fat Nuggets in his lap.
That was over an hour ago, and now Husk owns half the board while Angel is down to less than one hundred dollars until he can pass ‘go’ again. Angel also forgot that this game is only fun when you’re winning, which he most certainly is not. In any fashion. The first time he gets Husk to agree to come to his room and they’re not even in his bed. Fat Nuggets has even abandoned him at this point, curled up across the room on a pile of laundry, ashamed of his father for losing a game so severely. When his pawn lands on another one of Husk’s red properties, Angel racks his mind for another way to spin this.
“That’s $320,” Husk says, grinning like the cat that got the cream. Angel looks down at the measly Monopoly cash in his hand, then back up at Husk.
“What if I… found another way to pay my rent.” Angel dips his chin and looks up at Husk, pointedly tugging at the hem of his shorts. Husk cranes his neck to look at the handful of property cards Angel’s managed to collect, pointing at them as he responds.
“You can mortgage those — or, if you’re willing to part with that orange one, I could forget the rest of the payment.”
Angel frowns, shoulders dropping. “That’s… not what I… I… Okay, yeah.”
He picks up the orange card and hands it over to Husk, who tucks it away next to its partners. Angel watches as Husk rolls the dice and takes his turn, landing on one of his own spaces and placing a few houses down. There’s a reason this is one of the only board games from the living world that made it to Hell, and Angel is feeling that right now.
“Maybe we should make this game more interesting, Whiskers,” Angel tries again, leaning into Husk as he reaches for the dice.
“And how would we do that?” Husk raises one brow, grabbing their stolen booze by the neck and taking a swig. Angel steals the bottle from his hand, taking his own gulp of liquid courage before dropping it back into Husk’s lap.
“I think there are better forms of payment.” Angel shrugs his shoulders, letting the collar of his sweater fall down to expose some skin. Husk frowns, looking down at the board instead of at Angel’s chest, which he’s now puffing out with purpose.
“You haven’t even taken your turn,” Husk points out and Angel squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath. This fucking demon can not be this dense. “What? You want to put real money on the line?”
Angel deflates, pulling himself back to his side of the board and pulling his knees to his chest. Maybe this was a stupid idea, Husk has repeatedly rejected his advances before, and Angel feels kind of silly for thinking that maybe something had changed. They’ve been spending more time together, he actually thought Husk might even enjoy his company now – but what was he basing that off of? The fact that he likes spending time around Husk? The fact that Husk hasn’t recently expressed his annoyance?
The fact that something flashed in Husk’s eyes at the bar a couple hours ago, that he saw a smile tease at the edge of his lips when Angel suggested they come up here?
He rolls the dice and takes his turn, moves his pawn around the board until it lands on yet another property space. “Boardwalk.” He looks down at his cards, flips over the few he has, then dumps the rest of his hand in the center of the board. “You win.”
When Angel looks up, Husk doesn’t look as pleased as he expected. He’s frowning, staring at the board, the middle of his brows furrowed in concentration. “Thank you for humoring me.”
“Of course, Husk.” Angel reaches out and starts scooping up some of the game pieces, and a moment later Husk takes his hand. “Yeah?”
“Technically,” Husk’s throat bobs as he swallows thickly and Angel is mesmerized by that motion, and by how warm Husk’s palm is beneath his own skin. He’s getting whiplash and his stomach is doing so many flips it feels like he’s been thrown off of a rollercoaster. “That doesn’t pay off Boardwalk.”
“How much do I owe ya?” Angel’s voice wavers, still feeling uncertain. Husk doesn’t say anything at first, and Angel swears he can feel hours ticking by as he watches Husk’s eyes scan his face. They finally settle on his mouth and Angel’s head is swimming with desire and lust and hope.
He gasps when their lips connect, their kiss is so quick and gentle Angel’s almost afraid he somehow made it up. It went by too fast. He dares to cup Husk’s face in his hands, gives the other demon the chance to move away, and when he doesn’t Angel kisses him again. Deeper this time, and longer, letting himself linger in the warmth of Husk’s mouth on his, on the way Husk’s hand curls around the back of his neck. He moves slowly, as if one wrong move might scare Husk away.
At some point, Husk’s hands make their way to Angel’s shoulders, pulling at the taller sinner, and Angel scrambles over the game pieces still scattered between them until he’s next to Husk. Without the physical barrier of the board, Husk can grab Angel’s waist and press their bodies together. Angel’s upper arms wind around Husk’s neck, letting the bartender take the lead. He’s too high from the simple sensations of finally being with Husk, in his arms with his tongue in Husk’s mouth and his fingers winding in that tuft of fur usually hidden beneath his hat. He feels something snake over his leg, realizes it’s Husk’s tail wrapping around his ankle, and that does something he wasn’t expecting…
A surprised whine scrapes up Angel’s throat when Husk bites his lip, then lets his kisses trail down Angel’s jaw and neck, nothing but teeth and tongue and a need that seems to match the feeling growing in Angel’s gut. It’s not intentional when Angel’s hand brushes over Husk’s groin, as completely unintentional as the groan that escapes Husk’s chest at the contact or the way his hips buck into it. That sound is so lovely and goes straight to Angel’s dick, prompting the next completely intentional touch that Husk arches into and fuck it all – Angel can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Fuck,” Husk breathes, letting Angel crawl onto his lap and press his back against the side of the bed. Angel’s mouth is back on his in less than a moment, the demon moaning against his lips as his tongue presses into Husk’s. There’s no escaping Angel now, the man’s long fucking legs on either side of him, and hands all over his body. So many hands, fisted in his hair, clutching one of his suspenders, cupping his face, roaming lightly across his chest and stomach and arms and — they’re fucking everywhere. “Fuck, you have so many hands.”
“Perfect for multi-tasking,” Angel murmurs, managing to pull his sweater off while his lower set of hands get to work on the buckle of Husk’s pants. And still yet, Angel has one hand on Husk’s cheek the entire time, stroking the skin there with his thumb, his expression a thrilling mixture of lust and adoration.
Once Angel is free of his top, he catches Husk’s lips in another searing, desperate kiss. Husk finally gets his wits about him enough to lift his hands to Angel’s waist, digging his claws into the spider’s hips as he starts to rock against him. Husk feels like he’s already on the edge of sensory overload just from the tenderness of Angel’s touch on his face, combined with the downright filthy way Angel’s fucking his tongue into Husk’s mouth and grinding his hips into Husk’s thigh, the bartender is certain he’s going to implode. But it’s too good to stop.
“Aaahnnff-f-uck.” Husk moans as Angel’s fingers wrap around his cock, his head falling back against the edge of the bed. “Holy fuck, Angel, warn a man before you just — nngh — grab his dick like that…”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Angel’s lips curl up into a wicked smile as he strokes Husk, watching the older sinner’s jaw go slack when he presses the pad of his thumb against the frenulum. Every whimper and moan he pulls from the demon’s throat goes straight to his own cock, which he’s been pressing into Husk’s thigh desperately for the past several minutes. Husk leans forward, burying his face in the fluff of Angel’s chest and dropping wet, hot kisses between muffled, broken moans. “Don’t get shy now, baby, let me hear you…”
Angel’s fingers twine through the fur at the back of Husk’s neck, tugging until the other’s head falls back again with another swear. Angel’s breath is hot against Husk’s cheek as he leans in, whispers, “Can I ride this pretty cock of yours, Husky?”
Husk rolls his hips up into Angel’s hand in response, a growl building low in his throat. Angel hisses as Husk’s claws dig into his hips, tugging at the fur at the back of his neck again. “As much as I love your pretty sounds, baby, I’m going to need some verbal consent.”
“Yes,” Husk groans, somehow even more turned on by Angel’s insistence on consent. “Fuck – fuck, yes, Angel, yes, do whatever the fuck you want just — do it now.”
Husk whines when all of Angel’s hands disappear and the weight vanishes from his lap. Husk opens his eyes, not sure when he’d closed them, to find Angel tearing the loose shorts he’d been wearing down his legs. Husk had never truly considered Angel’s cock, he didn’t tend to let his mind wander that far. Now that he’s seen the way Angel’s cock bounces against his lower belly when he’s hard, the way the tip flushes and glistens with leaking precum, he’s positive he’ll never get the image out of his head.
As soon as Angel’s within reach, Husk grabs his waist and pulls him back into his lap. Angel falls into his chest with a yelp and a soft chuckle, pressing his hands against Husk’s shoulders to brace himself.
“Eager, ain’t we?” Angel huffs out another breath of a laugh when Husk’s mouth finds his neck, tongue and teeth lapping and nipping at the stretch of skin along his collarbone and shoulder. Two of Angel’s hands cup the back of Husk’s head, fingers brushing through the fur along the nape of his neck, pulling a soft and consistent rumble up from the cat’s chest. Every nerve in Angel’s body is absolutely buzzing, the feeling of Husk’s mouth moving lower down his chest until that rough tongue brushes against a nipple and earns a broken moan that Angel tries to muffle by pressing his face into the top of Husk’s head.
Claws scrape over his hips, warm hands cupping his ass, and he finally, finally, lowers himself into Husk’s lap, a low whine escaping him as Husk’s cock fills him up.
“Fuck, Husk,” Angel breathes, two hands braced on the edge of the bed behind Husk’s shoulders and the others cupping either side of Husk’s face to angle it back up. Angel’s moving slowly, taking his time, letting himself enjoy every moment of this. “Oh, baby, yes…”
Angel rolls his hips, rocking in Husk’s lap, hisses at the delicious burn that starts to build in his thighs as he drops himself back onto Husk’s cock again and again. His breath is hot against Husk’s cheek as he keeps muttering filthy praise and promises into his skin. The air between them is full of Angel’s whispers and Husk’s gasps and groans, and Husk surges up to meet Angel’s lips in a searing kiss. He swallows Angel’s moans, rocking his hips up to meet Angel with each thrust, burying himself deeper into the spider’s warmth.
Angel keens when Husk wraps an arm around his waist, pressing the spider into his body and trapping the other’s hard, leaking cock between them. At the same time, he’s changed their angle just enough to hit a sensitive bundle of nerves with each new thrust. Angel throws his head back, giving Husk the opportunity to ravish the length of his neck. The demon whimpers when Husk’s teeth scrape over his pulse point, finally losing his words in favor of breathless moans that grow higher and louder the longer Husk focuses his attention on sucking bruises into his skin.
“Fu-u-uck,” Angel keens, grinding his hips into Husk’s belly, held in place by strong arms. He feels like he’s being torn apart by Husk’s lips, he’s losing all ability to form any semblance of words until Husk’s name is finally torn from his throat at the same time his orgasm rips through the rest of his body. It’s so intense he’s not confident he isn’t actively double-dying as his body tenses and whatever’s left of his soul ascends. When he returns to his body, its to the overwhelming sensation of Husk still fucking up into him, pounding his prostate beyond overstimulation, nearly pushing him over the edge again before reaching his own climax and emptying into Angel with a deep, satisfied moan that reverberates through Angel’s bones.
Husk’s face is buried in Angel’s chest fluff, arms still wrapped tightly around Angel’s waist. He’s trying to fight the flush of shame that wants to wash over him, but he’s grateful that the other man doesn’t appear to be in a rush to move. No, Angel has nearly gone limp in Husk’s lap, which would be concerning in most other contexts. Some part of Husk feels proud of it right now, before that gets flushed away with shame, too, and he focuses instead on the rise and fall of Angel’s chest as he starts to catch his breath. He can feel the hot pants from Angel’s lips on the back of his neck, because Angel’s head is propped on top of his own, pushing him even further into the soft white fur on his chest. Husk’s not complaining about that. Husk lets himself tighten his arms around Angel, close his eyes and just enjoy the moment.