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I've always been a ladies' man, and I don't have to brag
But I've become a mama's boy for Andrew in drag
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Husk has never claimed to be a gentleman. He's a low-down, old, drunk, sinner with a bad attitude. He can move and talk like a gentleman but he's left that persona behind in his overlord days. His mama and pop had taught him manners and he respects boundaries when they come. But to his chagrin, Husk is nothing if not a smooth-talker who knows what and how to get what he likes. Even when he was at his worst, drunk and alone, there would still be a woman willing to go to bed with him. As he fell deeper into alcoholism sex became less and less appealing, but he would die all over again for a woman with long legs and big tits.
Or a man, apparently.
Angel takes a sip from the scotch in his glass, sighing in relief. Husk does the same as his gaze falls, shamelessly, to Angel's chest fluff.
There's a burning feeling that's settled in his chest, since he first realised it was Angel on the stage. Angel in that glittering, tight dress that hugs his curves in all the right ways. Husk knows that Angel knows he looks irresistible in that dress, which almost makes it worse for him. Angel knows how good he looks. He made eye contact with Husk and sang in that honey-sweet voice, sauntering across the room and swaying his hips. It's almost cruel.
Husk considers calling Angel out on it before he almost chokes to death. Angel adjusts the part of his dress that cups his chest fluff so that it pushes up further. The burning between his legs intensifies and he crosses them. He tries to think of gross smells and dead shit to will away the heat. Angel's smoky, sweet perfume and shining eyes invading his senses makes it hard for that to work.
“Well,” Angel huffs, “I gotta’ get ready for my shift in a few hours. Don’t want Val throwin’ a fit. I think I might use the dressing rooms, are they any good here?”.
Husk’s gaze snaps from Angel's chest to his face. He’s so drunk that his reaction time must be delayed, because Angel looks down to his chest and back to Husk with a confused expression. Husk swallows, tugging at his collar and Angel’s expression turns from confused to smug.
“You right there, Whiskers? Do I got somethin’ on my chest?” He asks, half-smirking.
“The dressing rooms are good. Lotta’ space,” Husk chokes out, downing his drink.
Angel tilts his head, almost cautious about his teasing, “Right. That an alcohol flush or…?”.
Husk feels a growl settle in his throat, “Angel.”.
Angel snorts, an honest laugh, and pushes himself off of the bar stool, “Okay. Well, I don’t know where the dressing rooms are so you’re gonna’ have to show me, grumpy.”.
Husk curses the universe for putting him in this situation. Angel waits patiently, staring shamelessly as Husk deliberates the pros and cons of this situation. Of walking his best friend, who is all dolled up and in a tight dress that Husk wants to tear off with his teeth, to a room where he’s going to strip naked.
He tries not to moan at the thought.
“I can find ‘em myself if you’re that wasted,” Angel whispers, a sympathetic expression on his face.
Husk shakes his head, “Whatever, I’ll show ya’.”.
He takes a deep breath and tries to will away the burning between his legs, again, before hopping off of the barstool. He waves ahead and starts dragging himself towards the door next to the stage. It only takes Angel half a step or two to catch up to him.
“So,” Husk recognises his tone immediately, Angel’s poor attempt at casual, “you like the performance? I wrote that song myself.”.
Husk is pleasantly shocked at that, “Didn’t know you wrote music.”.
Angel smiles, “Well, I don’t really. But I thought I’d give it a try! Not much good music down here, so...”.
Husk looks up at him, pushing the stage door open, “You don’t listen to the music from when you were alive?”.
Angel chuckles and Husk’s heart constricts, “The ‘30s wasn’t prime time for sultry music, babe.”.
Husk leads them down the long hallway, past the prop closets and security rooms, “You’re right, that was more my time. Eartha Kitt, Maralyin Monroe, Peggy Lee, Etta James knew what they were doin’.”.
“I don’t know who half of those people are.”.
“That’s because you’re an uneducated swine,” Husk chides.
Angel whacks him lightly upside the head, as Husk pushes an unoccupied dressing room door open. Much to his relief, it is actually onccupied—he had enough of walking in on horny co-stars in his time owning the place. He gestures for Angel to enter and tries not to laugh when he has to duck his head under the doorframe. His amusement promptly fades when Angel’s ass ends up in his face.
“You really cheaped out on the size, huh? I barely fit in here,” he teases.
Husk swallows, trying to ignore his dry mouth, “Didn’t have many tall broads performing here.”.
Angel bites his lip, “Is that what I am?”.
Husk feels his face heat up at Angel’s tone, “Tall?”.
Angel rolls his eyes, a fond smile on his face, and drops down into the mirror chair. Husk watches from the doorway, transfixed on how the dress clings to his back muscles.
Angel digs through the draws and pulls out a packet of wipes, “A broad.”.
Husk makes eye contact with Angel in the mirror and heat pools in his gut. Angel doesn’t break said eye contact as he wipes away the heart on his cheek. Husk feels a shiver creep up his spine.
“You know—You,” he curses himself for drinking so much.
Angel interrupts, smirking, “‘Cause in the life I lived, I remember that word was only used by catcalling sleezebags.”.
Husk knows Angel is teasing him in an attempt to come back from his earnest question. He knows he doesn’t mean to insult or genuinely accuse him of anything, but that doesn’t stop Husk's heart rate from speeding up.
“You’re more than just a broad, Angel. Well, you—You already know that. You’re confident and sure of yourself and—Jesus, you know how I feel,” he blurts out.
Angel thinks for a moment, probably trying to decipher the world scramble that just came out of his mouth, and turns around in the chair. His face is as kind as it is alluring and Husk resists the urge to collapse at his feet.
“Shut the door,” Angel whispers.
Husk feels his body comply before he can think about how horrible of an idea that is. The dressing room has a decent amount of space, so he at least does himself the favour of backing himself up against the wall. Angel bites his lip in a fond smile and the butterflies in his stomach almost feel worse than the burning in his gut. He considers throwing up all over the carpet.
“I used to be a man who was quick to makin’ assumptions but I ain’t anymore. So, Husk, do me the favour of telling me exactly how you feel.”.
Husk watches as blush spreads across Angel’s cheeks and he considers killing himself.
“Please,” Angel whispers, vulnerable and barely audible.
Husk feels the alcohol seep out of his system, rendered sober by the emotional whiplash of the last ten minutes. He swallows, searching Angel’s expression and has the selfish desire to duck and run when all he sees is pure intention.
“Angel,” he croaks, “I’m fuckin’ wasted—“.
“And I had three courage shots before my performance,” he interrupts.
Husk sighs and squeezes his eyes shut, “You wanna hear all of this now?”.
“Yes.”.
Husk swears under his breath, opens his eyes and shuffles towards Angel, staring at the floor. Angel deserves better than a confession from a half-wasted, sexually confused old man. But Angel wants a confession now and Husk can’t say no to him when it really counts.
So, he stands right in front of Angel and stares him directly in the eyes. Angel doesn’t flinch or portray any sort of nerves other than the blush spreading rapidly from his face down to his chest. Husk swipes a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. He’s about to start on some sappy speech, when Angel reaches a hand to cup his cheek.
“Can I ask you to do somethin’ for me before you start yappin’?”.
Husk feels his face heat up and he can barely form a thought let alone speech, so he just nods lamely.
Angel strokes his thumb across Husks’s cheek, “Get on ya’ knees for me, baby?”.
He's on the floor before he can even consider preserving his dignity. He lays his head in Angel’s lap and feels like he’s in a daze when he looks up at him. His fluffy white hair and soft, pink eyes looking at Husk with something he can name but is too scared to say aloud.
“Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” Angel scratches behind his ears.
All his resolve crumbles. Husk almost laughs at Angel's ability to immediately source his sweet spot. He feels the echoes of purrring vibrate throughout his body and all his muscles relax at once. Angel just smiles fondly at him, eyes shining.
“You’re beautiful,” Husk slurs, pupils blown wide.
Angel seems genuinely taken aback by this, flinching and eyes growing wide. He feels a glimpse of anger and pain flare up at the thought no one has ever told him that before.
Husk nuzzles his lap, “I'm no good with words, but, Jesus, Angel. Your hair is as soft as a cloud. Your eyes shine like a thousand pink diamonds…You're—You're kind.”.
Angel begins to shake his head, tears welling in his eyes. Husk nods in reassurance.
“You pretend not to care but you always worry about everyone else. You're always babying that fat little pig. You're always doing favours and checking on everyone. You know how to make me feel better on the nights I'm bein’ a self pitying ass.”.
“Husk,” Angel's voice is hoarse and it's clear he's trying not to cry, “you don't gotta—”.
“But I do,” Husk manages to bury himself further into Angel's lap, “‘cause you're everythin’ Angel. Everythin’ to me.
“The moon and the sky. The sun and the stars. Light and dark. Heaven and Hell. All that stupid, sappy shit they write about in ballads.”.
Angel doesn't say anything for a moment. He clears his throat in the stuffy silence and continues scratching that spot behind Husk's ears. Husk waits for Angel to pull himself together enough to respond. He revels in the mesmerising warmth of Angel's body. It's the perfect amount of suffocating and comforting at the same time. Husk has never felt more safe in his life.
“Well,” Angel takes a deep breath, “that was one helluva’ confession.”.
His fingers press into a spot at the base of his ears and Husk feels it go straight to his dick. He's never felt so pathetic in his life.
Much to his humiliation, a whimper escapes him, “Lemme’ touch you, Angel.”
Angel's expression softens in faux pity, “Of course, baby. But where?”.
Husk is beside himself. He knows he's not exactly a big, strong man but he hasn't felt this pathetic and torn apart in years. He supposes he's always been somewhat unravelled when it comes to a beautiful broad.
“Just—”, he groans, “fuckin’ anywhere I don't—”.
Angel smirks, really revelling in being in charge for once, “Hold on, sweetie. Mind your manners and tell me what you need.”.
His voice is smooth as silk and the vibrations of it travel down to his lap, where Husk's face is still buried.
“Please, let me touch your chest,” he whispers, blush creeping down to his own chest.
Angel cups his chin and lifts his head up, until his back is straight. Then he leans down, slow and teasing, so that his chest fluff is in Husk's direct eye-line. His breath fans across his face and the urge to surge forward and suck Angel's tongue until it's bruised is overwhelming. His body feels aflame.
Angel leans closer, so that their lips are brushing against each other, “Kiss me first, will ya’?”.
Husk is drooling and moaning into Angel's mouth within the second. Angel's hands drift from his ears to wrap around his shoulders as Husk kisses him, deep and slow. He's not impatient for this—he wants it to be slow and meaningful. To show Angel that he’s not just another guy looking for a lay.
Angel pulls away, “You outta’ practice, honey?”.
“Maybe,” Husk answers shortly, pressing their mouths together again a moment later.
Angel chuckles into the kiss and Husk feels something heavy and warm situate itself in his chest.
Angel trails one of his hands down Husk’s chest, which makes him yelp, and cups his dick through his slacks. Husk refuses to part from Angel's mouth or let him know that he’s putty in the man's hands, despite the fact that he feels like cumming then and there. He finds Angel's tongue and sucks, hard enough to be painful, and revels in the flighty moan it draws out. Angel's free hand and bottom pair grab Husk's wrists and place them firmly on his hips. Angel tears away from Husk's mouth after a few more fleeting kisses, breathless and lips swollen. Husk realises he must look ridiculous on his knees and covered in Angel's lipstick. Despite the fact, Angel's eyes remain full of lust and longing.
“You can do whatever you want with me. Just no touching my pussy. Can you do that for me?”.
Husk's dick throbs at the thought. He nods and swallows at the sight of his claws wrapped around Angel's middle. It's thin enough that they almost wrap around twice. Angel's hands still wrapped around his wrists, half-guiding him, he trails his hands to his chest fluff. It's not squishy like a woman's chest, Angel's chest muscles are firm, but the fur is soft and silky.
“Good boy,” Angel purs, running a hand down Husk's face.
He chokes.
“Husk,” he bats his eyelashes, eyes aflame, “talk to me, lovely.”.
“Fuck, Angel,” he shifts against the hand grabbing at his crotch, “it’s so soft.”.
Angel tightens his grasp on Husk's crotch and he groans, eyes flitting to the back of his head.
“I gotta’—”, he leans his head towards Angel, rocking against his hand now, “fuck, baby, I gotta—”.
Angel tuts, “Tell Mama Dust what you need.”.
Husk almost cums then and there, “I gotta’ put my face in it. Please lemme’, I'll fuckin’ beg if I have to—”.
Surprisingly, Angel doesn't make him beg. He cups a hand at the back of Husk's head and shoves his face in his chest fluff. Husk swears he dies all over again, a groan escaping him. He can barely breath, Angel forcing his head there, and he's never been more turned on.
“Gosh,” it's Angel's turn to sound breathless now, “you're doin’ so good for me, sweetie. All you gotta’ do now is fuck yourself on my hand.”. Husk whines and Angel strokes the back of his head, “That's not too difficult of an ask, is it?”.
Husk shakes his head, rutting against Angel's hand. He’s wearing leather gloves so he realises it should be more painful than pleasurable, but it’s Angel so it’s Heaven on Earth. Angel strokes his fur the entire way through, whispering encouraging and sickly sweet nothings. Husk finishes quicker than he’d like to admit. With a sound that’s a half-groan, half-whine, and an explosion of colours behind his eyelids, he slumps against Angel’s hand.
Everything is silent apart from his panting for however long it takes Husk to come back to the land of the dead.
“You alright, baby?” Angel asks softly, still stroking his fur.
Husk clears his throat, blinking the harsh dressing room lights away, as he lifts his head. Angel’s hands have moved to cup his face and shoulders in a gentle hold. He’s grateful when he realises the hand he just cummed on hangs limp by Angel’s side.
He feels himself nod, “Yeah.”.
Angel snorts, “You look wrecked.”.
“Gimme’ a break,” Husk smiles, “I haven’t had sex in years. I’m fuckin’ old.”.
Angel hums, “You call that sex?”.
Husk glares at him, trailing his claws down Angel’s side, “That a challenge or what?”.
“Nah,” Angel rolls his eyes playfully, “I can live without cumming.”.
Husk purses his lips. He considers his options here. He could let Angel walk out of this dressing room, dignity intact, or they could both leave dishevelled and spent.
“You don’t want me to lift this dress up and show you a good time? I may be out of practice but I haven’t forgotten how to use this tongue.”.
Angel’s face goes aflame and he squeaks, “Fuckin’ hell.”.
Husk smirks, self-satisfied, and rests his head in Angel's lap once again, “So?”.
A sensual haze falls over Angel's face and he hums, “Ask nice and proper.”.
“Please,” Husk feels his confidence slip, the heat of embarrassment clawing at him, “mama.”.
“Good boy. Just don’t tear my dress or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”.
Husk nods feverishly, making quick work of hiking up Angel’s dress—the slit makes it easy. He’s careful not to tear at the fabric with his claws as he hikes it up to Angel’s hips. His heart skips a beat when he realises Angel isn’t wearing any panties. He presses short, sweet kisses to the inside of his thighs, revelling in the relieved sigh it draws from him. And with thinly veiled excitement, he presses a kiss to Angel’s clit.
Angel’s head falls back, knocking against the mirror, “Fuck.”.
He smirks as he presses a deeper kiss to the same place, over and over again, until Angel is a whiny mess. The next kiss is feather light before he sucks, deep and hard, at Angel’s clit.
Angel borderline screams, “Husk! Baby—!“.
He spends the next few minutes tearing Angel apart. Putting and taking away pressure so that he’s constantly on edge, until Angel forcefully grabs Husk’s face and fucks himself on it. Husk sees stars at the same time Angel does, swallowing and pulling away with a gasp.
Angel is moaning and whimpering, head still leaning against the mirror, touching himself through his orgasm. Husk feels deeply satisfied with himself for the first time in a long time. He gives himself a minute to stop seeing stars and grabs the wipes from the bench, delicately wiping away all the grime and sweat off of Angel. He wipes the cum away from his mouth and doesn’t bother with beginning to address the stain on his slacks.
“That was…”.
“Good, I hope,” Husk brushes a piece of hair from Angel’s face.
Angel smiles, still in a daze from his orgasm, and slowly lifts his head, “Enlightnin’.”.
Husk laughs, “Oh, yeah?”.
“On more than a few topics,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to Husk’s lips.
Husk smiles warmly, “I suppose you could say that.”.
“I could,” Angel insists.
Husk snorts which leads Angel to dissolve in a fit of giggles, as he stands and pulls Husk into a tight embrace. He buries himself in Angel’s warmth, heart warm and full for the first time in a long time.