Chapter Text
Once inside, it’d become immediately apparent that Husk enjoyed the classy kind of presentation. Reds, golds and blacks weaved and decorated the space in elegant streams, even if the attention to detail and decor likely flew under the radar, given the intent with which patrons of the casino focused solely on the games on their respective machines and tables.
There’d been a bar at the far end of the place, akin to a reward for having survived the trek over: the bartender quick to straighten somewhat upon his boss’ approach, eyes subtly glancing between the gambling overlord and Valentino’s supposed property.
Although the both of them had approached the bar, it’d appeared they’d only done so as to allow the tuxedo cat to place down his now-empty glass, the barkeep quick in picking it up, paying it diligent attention as though the most important of items, turning atop their heels as to wash the glass meticulously. Husk had made no comment about the action, he’d instead turned as to face Angel once more, his silky voice speaking up.
“Would you like a drink?”, he’d asked casually, a question the sinner undoubtedly asked his more ‘interesting’ guests often. Practiced and professional, yet all these same welcoming.
Angel couldn’t help but feel as though the casual tone was rather misplaced in this situation- to the Gambling overlord, Angel Dust had been nothing more than an up-and-coming whore. Or ‘up-and-cumming’, as Val often adored to correct both the reporters and Angel himself.
“Sure,”, he’d shrugged, looking around the place briefly. “Don’t matter what.”, he’d added more passively, taking a moment as to lean against the counter of the bar with one set of his arms. The spider looked over the many casino goers that lined the building to the brim.
Notably few, other than the workers themselves, appeared pleased to be there.
“Really?”, Husk arched a crimson brow, signalling something towards the barkeep, the sinner demon quick to prepare a pair of glasses, getting to work. “I’d anticipated you’d name a cocktail, at least.”, he’d hummed for conversation’s sake.
“I trust your judgement,”, the spider sinner smiled sweetly, finally taking a moment as to sit at one of the stool-chairs provided. “Ya run the place, after all.”, he’d then shrugged, carefully watching his mystery drink get place against the wooden counter.
Presented to them soon enough were two drinks; a whiskey on the rocks inched closer to the gambling overlord, whilst an orange-to-red gradient drink was instead placed beside the arachnid demon, pleasing to the eye with a flowery garnish. It’d been a tequila sunrise, which’d actually been one of the spider’s favourites.
Had he been so obvious, or had Husk been able to read him in particular?
Gingerly, Angel picked up his drink, undeniably thirsty after the ordeal of these last couple of days. He’d shamelessly taken a larger few sips, sighing out contently at the tangy orange flavour and minimal alcohol. The spider sinner placed down his half-empty glass, looking back over to Husk, surprised as to spot utter disappointment knotting fluffy features.
“I do hope you don’t make it a habit to drink anything anyone gives you.”, the future-bartender said with nothing short of distaste, narrowing his golden eyes as though a judgemental father.
And by whatever God existed up there, the last thing that Angel had anticipated to be nostalgically weak to had been this. This stupid, subtly caring phrase that had began the transformation of their relationship in the past (or, more accurately, the future). Perhaps it’d been said differently, but the message had been all the same.
Even now, with power, status and money, the winged cat-demon had been the same. An old man strangely looking out for others. And that familiarity, that realisation, had Angel’s breath hitch. His entire form freeze pathetically before-
A sigh. Exasperated and grumbly, followed by Husk’s claws fingers punching the bridge of his nose briefly.
“Follow me.”, he’d just about growled out, standing from where he’d sat, leaving his drink behind as he’d motioned for Angel Dust as to follow, his tail flicking in a burst of agitation.
Although initially confused, the spider sinner followed with little delay. He’d stumbled with very little grace as he’d stood hastily, only growing aware that he’d tears welled in his eyes when he’d finally blinked. Angel reached out one of his hands as to quickly rub the tears away, hoping despite the evidence otherwise that Husk hadn’t noticed the tears.
Naturally, as was Angel’s secret talent at this point, he’d pulled himself together quickly. A calming breath followed by the clearing of his mind. Admittedly, it’d been harder to maintain the facade when the very object of your emotional turmoil had been right before you, but he’d managed.
He’d been through worse.
So much worse.
Yet simultaneously nowhere near as painful.
“So, ugh,”, Angel cleared his throat with failed casualty, straightening up as to walk with practiced grace, “where are we off ta, toots?”
“Listen here, kid. I don’t take in charity cases,”, Husk’s gravelly voice spoke without mincing his words, harsh, even if simultaneously soothing, “you need to pull yourself together if you’d like so much as a chance to work here. This is Hell, not some fuckin’ playground.”, the feline stopped in his tracks, turning with no-little finesse, his wings hypnotic as he had, eyes blazing with an orange flame, “you show weakness, you get exploited, simple as. I ain’t no fucking saint, my reputation should tell you as much. I don’t know what your deal is, and I will demand answers from you, but for now you clearly need some damn rest.”, he’d turned once more, grumbling all sorts of colourful language under his breath as he’d reanimated his body.
“I-“, Angel paused before he could speak further, swallowing thickly as his throat ran dry once more, “you’re…”
“Giving you a room,”, Husk finished for the other sinner, the sigh of a man making a mistake accompanying the words, “temporarily,”, he’d emphasised, “I got shit to do today so I ain’t got the time. Tomorrow, though, I’ll give you a fair shot. One chance, kid, make it count.”, the cat-demon stopped before a room, fishing out a key from an inside pocket of his blazer, passing it to Angel with a toss, which the spider demon just barely fumbled as to catch.
“… thank you.”, Angel breathed out, unsure of what else he could say.
Husk regarded him up and down once, nodding curtly once he had. It hadn’t been the kind of gaze that Valentino would cast over the spider demon. There’d been no lust behind those golden eyes, only a mix of intrigue and worry.
“Don’t thank me yet,”, Husk’s vocals lulled less harshly this time round, the demon checking his wrist in a practiced motion as to check the time, “I’ll send someone later to bring you things to help you settle in. Until then you’re free to do whatever you want, it ain’t my business. If you desperately need something, approach any of my staff and ask for me, I’ll find you when I can.”
Angel, still in equal amounts bewildered, thankful and impressed could only nod at the ordeal. He’d held the key protectively within his gloved grasp, unable to look away from Husk had he tried.
Nothing was spoken between them after that. The gambling overlord only looked up and into the other sinner’s eyes once, holding the contact for a couple of seconds, before nodding curtly a final time. With no visible hurry, Husk walked past the spider, a single feather of his wing brushing against the spider’s thinly-furred hip.
Again, it hadn’t been uncomfortable. If anything, Angel couldn’t help but be comforted by this entire exchange.
Even as an overlord, Husk remained as human as anyone in hell could be. He showed him compassion, even if he’d been utterly unfamiliar with the strange spider that appeared far too familiar with him than he likely should’ve been.
Letting out a breath he’d been unaware of holding, Angel unlocked the door of his temporary room with a single twist of his wrist, the click echoing around the out-of-the-way hallway likely reserved for staff.
——
A ring.
Another.
Two more.
Husk rolled his golden eyes with a knowing, disappointed shake of his head. He’d pulled the receiver end of his phone away from his sensitive, pointed ear, displeased to find that it’d been the exact moment the call clicked as it’d been picked up.
An irritating squeak came out through the speaker, a grating, angered voice picking up on the other end.
“The fuck you want?”, the recipient hissed more aggressively than Husk’s cat body was likely capable of. The Gambling Overlord begrudgingly pressed the receiver back to his ear, unimpressed in every sense of the word.
Honestly, he fucking hated Valentino.
“Must you make every interaction immediately unpleasant?”, the tuxedo feline raised one of his crimson brows, imagining how the man on the other end straightened to attention at his voice.
“Husker?”, he’d sounded genuinely perplexed for a moment, though that’d made his voice no less grating, “have you finally reconsidered starring in one of my films? I’d offer you co-produce with Angel but that fucking whore ran off somewhere.”, he’d spoke in a tone full of venom, yelling at someone in the background in Spanish.
Husk pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted despite being yet to hold a conversation with the porn demon.
“I’ve no interest in your shitty films,”, Husk clarified automatically, “I’m only calling to let you know he’s here.”
“… my Angel’s at your fucking casino?!”, Valentino yelled out loud enough to make the cat-demon cringe.
“Calm the fuck down,”, Husk growled lowly, his voice unintentionally sultry even when angered, “he’d come here himself.”
“Fuckin’-“, shuffling was heard on the other end, no doubt the moth demon putting on some clothes, “-bitch!”, he’d called out in evident frustration, “I’ll come pick his scrawny ass right now, that little-“
“Not so fast,”, the winged-cat sinner interrupted leisurely, the pause of the wannabe overlord near-audible in the stillness on the other side of the phone, “who said I’d any intention on giving him to you? Definitely not for free.”
“Don’t play with me, gatito,”, the frustrated squeak of Valentino’s moth form echoed into the speaker once more, “just name the price and get this shit over with.”
“Hm,”, Husk pulled at the cord of his phone, watching with passive interest as the cable stretched, “I’ll tell you if I’m interested tomorrow, how does that sound?”
“Interested?”, Valentino parroted with bewilderment, “that’s my whore! You son of a-”
Utterly unbothered by the increasingly venomous words, the gambling overlord unceremoniously put down the phone. He’d hummed thoughtfully as he’d lit a cigar in his office, looking up and over to the window in the room as it looked out onto the chaotic streets of hell below.
Ignoring the obnoxious ring of the phone as it began to call, the cat sinner couldn’t help but think about the oddity that’d been Angel Dust.
Just another sad sinner in hell, doing time as anyone else.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling, as his crimson brows frowned and his cigar turned steadily into ash, that something had been undeniably familiar about the spider.
The way he spoke.
The way that his walls had evidently dropped around the cat demon without any finess needed. He’d usually chalk up the blind trust to stupidity, though something told Husk that Angel Dust had been naturally guarded with others.
His long claw tapped the wood of his desk, wings outstretching leisurely as the feline leaned further back into his dark, leather chair.
Something was definitely off about the spider, and Husk intended to find out what exactly it’d been by tomorrow evening.