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Sounds of sweat-slick skin and fur slapping rhythmically together were audible even through the heavy wooden doors; the acoustics of high ceilings and unnecessarily luxurious parquet floors carried both the shouts of satisfaction and the grunts of effort so well that a body wouldn’t even need Husk’s sharp senses to hear that whoever was in there were just absolutely fuckin’ going at it.
He took a grounding breath and flexed his wings, urging his feathers to settle; it had already been a long ass day slinging booze behind the bar and well, even on his best day, the ostentatious hotel gymnasium was a shrieking sensory nightmare.
But he’d never pass up the chance to see his gorgeous boy doing what he does best.
He shifted his armful of ice-cold bottled water and tugged the door open just in time to hear Angel’s tight moan, a hand, perhaps more than one, scrabbling for purchase as a whine trickled out from between teeth clenched with strain.
Husk’s ear flicked, scruff bristling with faint interest at a teasing, frankly filthy chuckle. “C’mon babydoll, you can do it for daddy, can’t ya?”
Husk rolled his eyes. How was it exactly that he’d collected another of these kinky freaks?
The door fwumped heavily behind him, drawing the attention of the three demons in the room, which, well…
“Oh shit! Fuck, Blitzø!” Angel yelped, fumbling his hold on the unfamiliar piece of equipment and dropped onto the padded gym mat with an unusual lack of grace in a heap of damp pastel fur and a silver spandex number that seemed more strap than fabric.
The imp snorted at Angel’s vociferous Italian swearing and flipped off of a matching chrome hoop to land beside Angel with only a hint of a wobble as his bare hooves hit the mat. His chin jerked in Husk’s direction by way of a greeting, mopping his face with the hem of his sleeveless tee.
A twittery sigh pulled both his and Husk’s attention to the third demon, who flushed an immediate scarlet at their shared look of amusement. From his perch in the center of a pile of silky cushions Stolas attempted to disappear into a comically oversized yellow hoodie that swamped his willowy frame.
Blitzø grinned with fang, somehow affectionate and sleazy all at once. “See something you like, pretty baby?” Husk groaned at the flirting and tossed him one of the waters as he made his way over to where Angel was still flat on his back. Blitzø snatched it out of the air with the whip of his tail, gulping down most of the bottle before dumping the rest over his head.
He cracked the seal of Angel’s bougie-ass electrolyte water, huffing a laugh when the little brat just pouted with his eyes scrunched shut, flapping a hand in Husk’s direction and missed by a mile. Husk grabbed it when it came close enough and wrapped Angel’s slender fingers around the glass, rewarded by those exquisite magenta eyes blinking up at him with ‘heart eyes.’ (Goddamn Angel and his dumbass Vee influenced slang.) It still made him squirm sometimes at how frankly appreciative Angel was any time he did something as insignificant as mixing him a drink when he’s had a rough day or making sure he occasionally put something in his body beside sugar and Charlie’s stolen breakfast cereal for every meal. It made him want to bundle his boy up in the safety of wing and arms and promise fucking impossible things like forever and always.
Angel heaved himself up enough to chug half the bottle in one go before handing it back to Husk, immediately sprawling all eight of his finely muscled limbs dramatically across the mat.
“Going well, is it?” Husk snorted.
Angel whined, “Baby, you’d look more graceful spinnin’ around a pole in a pair of eight-inch clackers on fuckin’ amateur night. I’m a professional dancer for fuck’s sake; it shouldn’t be this hard.”
Blitzø scoffed, biceps bulging with definition as he stretched out his arms. “C’mon quit that bitching, Legs, you nearly had it that last time. I’ll make a half-decent acrobat outta you yet. You gonna get that pretty little ass back up on that ring for me and try again or you gonna give up now like a bitch?”
Angel aimed no less than four separate middle fingers aggressively in the imp’s direction, but his cheeks went an extremely telling shade of pink. “Fuck off, you enormous red dildo and go bother Stolas, ya goddamn sadist. Give a bitch like five fuckin’ minutes to breathe, fucks sake.”
Stolas twittered a musical little laugh and Blitzø shook his head with a smirk, catching Husk’s eye to shrug and convey a wordless “fuckin’ brats, what can you do?”
He moseyed over to the owl and stopped before Stolas to take his heart-shaped face in his hands. Husk felt vaguely jealous of his loose-hipped prowl, he was certain he’d never once been so fucking limber, even when he’d been alive at Blitzø’s age.
“Hey there pretty bird, how’s my baby doing, hm? Still feeling tired?” Blitzø murmured, tender concern coloring his lowered voice.
Husk couldn’t hear the response but Blitzø tsked, “Better not let me hear you saying ‘sorry’ baby bird. No one here’s expecting anything from you tonight, just glad to have you here. Daddy’s real proud of you; knows how hard you’ve been trying lately.”
Husk was so focused on looking like he hadn’t been inadvertently eavesdropping that he almost startled when a hand wound gently around his ankle. Husk blinked down to see Angel smiling, small and lovely. Husk had the impression, judging by the look on his partner’s face, that they probably both felt the same strange surge of warmth at witnessing their friends openly loving and caring for each other without hiding behind the sarcasm or shame they once had. Angel could almost certainly whip out one of those polyamory books he’d started accumulating and point to some fancy word for that specific feeling. Husk hadn’t felt all that inclined to look through them himself beyond whatever passages Angel highlighted for him to read while they’d felt out what they wanted from a relationship with each other.
Now he was wondering if he shouldn’t take another look. Just casually, like. A little light reading for those extra quiet stretches of time behind the bar, maybe.
He returned his spider’s smile, lowering himself to the mat. He tried not to make the ‘old man’ sounds Angel always teased him for, the fuckin’ punk, as if they wouldn’t both be the same physical age if Angel hadn’t died forty years before Husk.
Angel shimmied and wriggled like a sweaty, pink inchworm until he draped himself over Husk’s lap. He snuggled in with an exhausted but pleased little noise when Husk dragged the tips of his claws through his sweat-curled hair.
“Y’doin’ okay Legs? Not like you to struggle with pickin’ up new moves this much, is it?” Husk asked, brow furrowed with concern.
Angel groaned in frustration, arms flailing out dramatically. “Ugh, I know, its bullshit. Marone, I’m too fuckin’ tense and it’s fuckin’ up my balance or some shit.”
Husk started kneading at the nape of Angel’s neck before he even finished complaining about it and, damn if it didn’t seem to be the truth, the normally supple flesh beneath Angel’s delicate fur was knotted and tight under his paws.
“What’s got you so tense, sweets?” He murmured. “Can I help?”
Angel moaned lightly, godforsaken gold fang glittering in the light when he bit his lip. “Y’helpin’ more than ya know already, Husky. That feels so fuckin’ good.” He heaved a sigh. “It’s fuckin’ Val, man. He can’t smack me around anymore, so he’s decided to be passive aggressive as shit instead because he’s pissed the other Vee’s out-voted him on my idea for this show. Took me off the filming schedule completely and keeps everyone else so fuckin’ busy that literally nobody’s ever even free for a handie in the janitors closet, and goddammit sometimes a fella just needs to get fuckin’ railed until he can’t think thoughts anymore. Is that too much to expect?!”
He gazed down at Angel, parsing through his ranting. Never did Husk long for his former Overlord power so much than when Angel let slip all the shit that asshole put him through; knowing neither of them could actually do anything to change the fact that he wasn’t an Overlord anymore and never would be again, and that Angel would be under fucking Valentino’s thumb until one of them died again for good.
As grateful as he was that he didn’t have to spend any more of his days anxious over the thought of his beautiful boy coming home bloody and bruised and broken, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that Valentino didn’t know a million and one other ways to be cruel that didn’t involve laying hands on Angel. Purposely withholding one of Angel’s few outlets for the wild, fractious sexual energy that built up inside him like static on cheap nylon stockings was just about as cruel as it got, though. No doubt his vile, predatory ass was thinking to freeze Angel out indefinitely until he grew desperate enough to crawl back to Val begging on his knees for a crumb of physical attention.
The blind purple fuckface would never be able to see that Angel had come to be rock steady in his own power and he’d sooner throw himself off the top of Vee tower before he’d willingly fuck Valentino ever again.
Part of Husk, the part that loved Angel with every ounce of his rotten, damned soul left to call his own, wanted nothing more than to take Angel away from everything that could harm him and devote himself to nothing but never letting him want for anything again.
Except, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Angel, even when he begged for it.
Maybe especially when he begged for it.
He knew from the depths of his spade-black heart that it would only leave him haunted by the ghosts of his past; those empty souls that had traded everything for another hand, another fix, crushed beneath his polished wing-tips once they’d been hollowed out at last and had nothing left to offer him but the brief entertainment to be had in the sound of their begging for mercy.
Hell, even if it was just sex Angel needed right now, his own interest in that was sporadic at best and when he did feel the desire stir, he often needed things to be a particular way; whether it was the location and setting for the act itself or avoiding certain sensory triggers and he knew from past experience that when Angel was in this kind of mood, the messier and the filthier things got, the more he reveled in it.
Another part of him, that tiny (but ever growing) part that was still learning to accept that Angel loved him for all his flaws and skeletons, and knew him exactly as he was, blazed softly with knowing and trusting that no matter how much he needed this specific thing, Angel would never demand anything from him he wasn’t comfortable offering.
They’d reached a level of understanding of one another that Angel felt safe sharing with Husk what he was feeling and what he needed without worrying that Husk would instinctively react the way he used to when he feared every raunchy thing Angel said, every offhand flirtation, was a trap of expectation he’d never be able to rise to.
Nowadays, he got such a deep feeling of satisfaction, even genuine pleasure, whenever Angel came to him to debrief about whatever encounter he’d had last, to be asked his opinion about this potential regular hookup or that, to be entrusted with keeping hold of that little golden key to room 69.
“Hmm, are any of the normal folks you’d usually hit up for that free? Or, if not, we could hit up Consent and I can vet-”
Angel sighed again, “Pretty much anyone I’ve played with before is in Val’s fuckin’ stable and they’re all too paranoid about the motherfucker finding out that we been fuckin’ off camera to risk meetin’ up. And I love and appreciate ya so much for offerin’ baby, but I just don’t have the energy to roll the dice on some strange that I’d trust not to fuck me up more than I wanna be right now.”
Husk grimaced in sympathy for the rumpled demon slowly melting into a puddle of horny misery across his lap. He started at the abrupt sound of an anxious squawk and looked up to see Stolas yank his weirdly bulky hood back up, tugging the strings comically tight around cheeks flushed a hectic red and Blitzø with his claws still clutching the space where the owl’s face had been, apologetic confusion swirling across his own scar-mottled face.
And, Husk blinked, also apparently pitching a massive fucking tent in his tight black leggings.
Angel pouted and whined until Husk reapplied himself to the massage, whiskers and ears twitching as he tried to think about anything besides his friend’s dick. Angel had slept with both Stolas and Blitzø, Husk knew, but knowing a thing in theory (i.e. his friend’s dick having been inside the love of his afterlife) and seeing the reality of the thing (again, his friend’s apparently titanic dick that had been inside the love of his afterlife) is a hog- er horse of an entirely different color.
Husk had never really been the type to lust after or even really think about other people’s body parts, dicks or otherwise. When he was alive, he could see a thing and acknowledge if it were conventionally, aesthetically attractive but unless he had a connection with the person it was attached to, it almost never inspired anything in him beyond that. Being in Hell only really changed things for him in that the bodies and their accompanying body parts suddenly became wildly more diverse than they had been topside, and the aesthetics that had existed on a mostly fairly predictable spectrum somewhere between masculine and feminine exploded into kaleidoscope fractals of new standards of what folks found attractive in the fellow damned souls crammed cheek-to-mandible-to-tentacle into the Pride Ring alongside them.
A handful of sinners had caught his attention and appreciation here and there over the years, sure, but his time as an Overlord had distorted his desire to form connections not only by the way he viewed them as nothing more than poker chips to be added to the pot, but by the way so many had desperately thrown themselves at him to try to gain his favor with their bodies. Sex and the political implications involved eventually became a concept so detached from what he actually felt for them that after a while he didn’t even bother looking on purpose at all for a long, long time.
But Angel Dust had always fascinated him, long before they’d even started occupying the same spaces and even longer before Husk had finally realized that his irritation at the way the blatantly sexual demon was always so loudly himself and the bassline thrum of worry for his well-being was him actually falling for the fucking brat.
Attraction still felt alien to him most of the time, often leaving him stunned when it finally slapped him in the face. So, while he had no problem acknowledging that both his friends were objectively attractive, hell, Stolas’ long willowy beauty and Blitzø’s bold swagger both inspired in him reactions reminiscent of the way he reacted to Angel, somehow he’d never really allowed himself to consider that he would ever be attracted to them.
“What about Blitzø?” Husk mused, face heating when Angel peered up at him curiously with one eyelid cracked. “I mean, it seems like he’d tick all your boxes, right? You could ask him, couldn’t you?”
“Mm, yeah you’re not wrong, he really does, but-“ Angel bit his lip, eyes darting over to where Blitzø was murmuring quietly to an obviously mortified Stolas, nuzzling into the fabric covering the top of his usually perfectly coiffed head. “Feathers is kinda really going through it right now, it’s comin’ up on a year since, well…and Blitzø is super stressed tryin’ his best to help him while at the same time ignoring his own paranoia any time Stolas is out of his sight, an’ I don’t want to be a selfish, insensitive prick about all’a that by asking if one or both of them could just do me a favor and dick me down real quick, y’know?” He grimaced. “Other people have real problems, I’m just horny.”
Husk tsked and bent to kiss Angel’s furrowed brow, lacing his fingers through the nearest of his hands and gave a reassuring squeeze.
“I ain’t tryin’ to push you sweets, just something to keep in mind if things get dire. And, in the meantime, I’m not opposed to strapping you down on the sybian and puttin’ you through your paces as often as you need to take the edge off.” Angel waggled his eyebrows. Husk smirked, “Pun fully intended, yes, but the offer’s genuine.” He shrugged.
Angel’s eyes glistened. “You’re the best, Husky. Always takin’ care a’ me so good,” he grinned and winked before adding with a little shimmy of his slim shoulders, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly, “daddy.”
Husk noted Angel’s tell that he needed to change the subject and let him deflect for now, rolling his eyes at the goddamned ‘daddy’ of it all like he knew Angel was expecting, as if Husk wouldn’t gladly set fire to the fuckin’ world entire in order to give him even a single moment certainty of how much Husk cherished him. As if the need to see him happy as much he could physically or metaphysically manage hadn’t become Husk’s entire raison fucking d’etre.
Angel giggled, just as Husk had hoped he would. A sudden greedy urge to swallow the sound of that snickery laugh whole burned through him like the first shot of whiskey of the day. He tugged Angel to him with a handful of rumpled curls to lap up the last traces of laughter directly from his lips, tongue swiping with rough-edged tenderness over the bitten flesh. Angel dug the fingers of at least three hands into whatever of Husk he could grab and exhaled such a hungry little noise into his open mouth that Husk wasn’t remotely surprised that he felt his body reacting in kind.
“Hey, hey now! If you can suck face with the kitty cat, you’ve had plenty of time to breathe, bitch. Either invite me to join in or let’s get back up there for one more run through.”
Angel twisted around within Husk’s hold to snarl at Blitzø’s interruption. The imp just snorted, cocking an eyebrow and waited, intimately familiar with brat energy in general, and Angel’s particularly heinous brand of brat energy specifically.
Angel scrambled up onto his knees, “We was havin’ a fuckin’ moment there, asshole, fuck off. Who even said you was the boss’a me tonight, anyway?”
Blitzø’s eyes flicked to Stolas nestled once again in his cushions and back, tipping his head up to where even on his knees Angel was hilariously taller, a filthy, serrated leer creeping across his face.
Christ, even Husk broke out in goosebumps at that look.
Angel gulped audibly but, surprising probably no one present, immediately doubled down and popped a pair of hands on his hips, chin thrust forward in challenge.
Blitzø’s grin grew impossibly wider and more feral before he sucked his teeth, head cocked knowingly. “Aw, little spider. You want something, you better ask for it. I know you know how to use that slut mouth, so you let me know when you’re ready to use your words, hm?” The sharpness of his mouth softened a fraction, and he shrugged, pretended to inspect his claws. “Now me? I really wanna see you pull off that choreo, because I know you can nail it, and if an ex-circus freak like me knows anything it’s how to spot a natural in the air. But I ain’t gonna make you do it, sweetheart, not unless you want me to. This ain’t a one-time offer, we’ll go at whatever pace you feel good with, and I’ll be there to help as long as you want me to, okay?”
Angel was frozen in place, cheeks getting steadily pinker, and Husk didn’t think it was only on account of the flirting. He stifled a chuckle and decided to leave them to it. Before he did though, he took advantage of Angel being more at his eye level than normal and nuzzled against his cheek, rumbling a reassuring purr.
“For what it’s worth, I wanna see your moves too, doll. You go ahead and finish up your practice and…think about what we talked about, alright? From where I’m sittin’ Red’s all but sent out an engraved invitation that he’d be up to the challenge, but it’s your call, always. Lemme know if you want me to keep the porkchop tonight.”
When he stepped back, Angel blinked between Husk and Blitzø, lower lip tucked beneath his gold fang almost shyly. And but fuck was it adorable despite being such an uncharacteristic look for his bold boy.
Husk was so gone for him, goddamn it.
Angel closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath through his nose, exhaling gustily after a moment, cheeks puffing out with the dramatic force of it. Then he stood and shook out all his many limbs, cracking his neck like a boxer ready to go back in the ring in for another round.
“Alright, daddy, you wanna see what I got? I’ll fuckin’ show you what I got.”
…
Husk made his way unhurriedly across the gym, one eye on Angel and Blitzø getting limbered up on the big pair of suspended hoops and the other on Stolas huddled within the strangely fuzzy yellow hoodie, but it wasn’t until he got nearer that he realized it was supposed to be some kind of animal.
Knowing Blitzø well enough by now, it was probably safe to assume it was a horse, though the misshapen ears and mane of slightly ragged fur gave the impression of a depressed lion with a mohawk instead. Stolas had his long, long legs tucked up inside it, stretching out the fabric of the body in odd places and the hood was drawn tight around his face, making him look like some bizarre yet winsome cryptid.
Husk sidled up next to his little cushion pile and quietly cleared his throat to get Stolas’ attention, “This seat taken or is there room for one more in the nest?” He toed at a puffy blue square that seemed comfortable enough to rest his aching bones on for a bit and then had to force his face into as neutral an expression as he could, so he didn’t bust out fucking laughing when Stolas turned his head and blinked owlishly at him.
Stolas flushed sweetly, and up-close Husk could see that the prince’s facial disk was looking noticeably patchy in places, making the pink of his skin beneath the white feathers even more pronounced.
Ah, hell. Angel had said he’d been going through it lately and if Husk’s thinking was right, the poor kid was likely going through a full molt on top of it, probably in response to his distress and not helping the situation one bit. Husk had been there; though thank whatever the fuck entity responsible for determining demon forms that he’d ended up with just feathered wings and not feathered everything. Shit was itchy as fuck from start to finish and required consistent and dedicated attention to get through it without any more discomfort than that.
After he’d gotten stuck on the Radio Demon’s fuckin’ leash, he stopped caring much about how his wings looked for a long time. Then one night in the Hotel’s early days Angel had made an off-hand comment that suddenly made him self-conscious about them again. More than one cursed session of attempted damage control preening left him knocking back even more liquor than normal to numb the pain of yanking out broken quills and his shitty, over-bleached sheets looking like the scene of a crime. He thought he’d done well enough until an even later night, out of the blue Angel showed up at his door with a fuckin’ bedazzled pink plastic caddy crammed full of luxury preening products and invited himself in to lend a hand.
Now, Husk would personally cut down anyone who felt the misguided need to have an opinion about it, but in the deep, dark, private parts of himself he could admit that he treasured every moment he spent with Angel’s deft hands on his wings.
He hoped he didn’t have to privately kick Blitzo’s ass about not making sure his ‘pretty bird’ was just as well taken care of.
“Hello Husker,” Stolas replied after a moment. “Yes, do please join me, if-if you’d like of course.” He flushed again and his hands emerged from the sleeves of the sweatshirt to rub together revealing small, scaly bald patches where the fine black feathers on the backs of his wrists were missing. “Apologies in advance if I’m not very engaging company this evening, my friend, and please do forgive my rather shameful state of dishabille, I-”
Husk lowered himself onto the deceptively squashy cushion faster than was probably recommended for his goddamn knees, but he hated seeing his friend so self-conscious about how he looked, as if it were a failing of his character and that Husk would think less of him for it. If it were Angel tying himself in knots like this he’d offer physical comfort and let the spider decide if he wanted to be touched or not, but he just didn’t know Stolas like that yet to be certain how he preferred to be comforted.
Christ alive Husk wanted, almost needed, to comfort him right now.
For lack of a better idea and wanting to avoid excessive contact in case the molt had left his skin hypersensitive, Husk angled his body slightly toward Stolas’ hunched form and spread a wing out and around to envelop the whole of him without touching.
“Hush, choue,” he murmured, ignoring the way his ears heated at the unexpected endearment. “You’re okay. Trust me when I say no one here is gonna judge you for a little bit of molting.” He smiled gently at Stolas’ precious little warble. “Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. I know how it goes, when it comes to my wings at least.” He flexed the hinge of his wing and tapped the tip of a long pinion against Stolas’ beak, grinning when he spluttered in surprise.
Stolas’ hands eased from one another to wrap around his knees, and he ever so gradually allowed himself to lean his slight weight into the curve of wing and Husk’s shoulder. He sighed, “It’s never been this bad before. I feel utterly disgusting, not to mention the-”
“Itching?” Husk snorted. “Yeah that’s not my favorite part, either. You wanna talk disgusting, though?” He leaned in to whisper, “Did you know spiders molt too? No bullshit, they shed their whole fuckin’…exoskeleton or some shit. Nearly scared me half to double-death the first time Angel molted here at the hotel, and I found his shed when I came to check on him.” Husk scruffed a hand over the back of his neck, recalling his embarrassing response. “Was standing there losin’ my fuckin’ mind trying to figure out how to tell Charlie that something incredibly fucked up had happened to her precious poster Sinner, on Hotel property no less, when the guy just pops out the bathroom soaking wet and ass naked with all six Tommy guns aimed at my gourd, swearin’ a blue streak at me in Italian like he’d caught me peepin’ in his sister’s window or some shit.”
Stolas stared at him wide eyed before he dissolved into hooting laughter.
“You chucklefucks betta not be laughin’ at me over there?! Y’know I ain’t never done this before!”
Husk swung his gaze around to Angel with a grin so opaque and feline it’d put a sphynx to shame while beside him Stolas buried his face in his hands and twittered into his palms. “Nah sweets, I was just tellin’ him one’a my famous knock-knock jokes.”
Angel dropped into a seated position at the bottom of the hoop and glared between the two of them with suspicion. A beat later he scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard he nearly lost his balance again. “Feathers, I’d say I really thought you’d have better taste, but I also know you find this fucker hilarious,” he jerked a thumb at Blitzo who hissed in offense, “so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d find Husk’s lame nonno jokes funny.”
He yelped when Blitzø kicked out a hoof and sent Angel’s hoop spinning. “Shuddup and finish the routine you mouthy brat or we’ll see if I can’t tan that pink hide red right here in the air.”
A downright sultry look transformed Angel’s bitchy face and he went from lazily swinging his feet where they dangled to reclining seductively against his hoop. He pitched his voice up high and breathy, “Oooh, little daddy, don’t threaten me with a good time now.” He bared his fangs in a shit-eating grin, gold flashing.
Before Blitzø could aim another kick, Angel twisted and wound himself into and around the hoop, a dizzying blur of pink and silver, thigh and calf muscles flexing beneath the skin-tight spandex with movement that appeared so effortless and instinctive that it left Husk stunned.
Christ, but did he love watching Angel move.
When he seemed to have finally run through all the choreography perfectly, Angel leapt from his hoop to Blitzø’s. They grappled for a gravity-defying moment that ended with Angel straddling the imp while Blitzø took a two-handed grip of his ass, fingers dug in so tight his claws left indentations in the shiny fabric. His long prehensile tail wrapped around the top edge of the hoop to steady them both easy as breathing. The two of them panted and snarled triumphantly into each other’s faces until they moved as one and started making out furiously.
Husk’s own tail whipped with surprised interest at seeing them so wild, matching each other’s energy so seamlessly. Stolas made a soft sound of appreciation and Husk managed to tear his eyes away from the scene playing out before them to see the look on his face.
“They look so incredible together, don’t they?” He asked almost reverently.
Husk swallowed, nodding. It was undeniable how much he was enjoying the scene before them; the raw, erotic energy swirling throughout the room sent bolts of sensation down the length of his spine.
Stolas cocked his head, pupils flashing. “Have you never seen them like this before?”
Husk shook his head. He didn’t typically go in for watching people kissing or having sex, and he had conflicted feelings about watching the content Angel made when it was for his job when he couldn’t be sure if he was high on pleasure or just fucking high on the shit Val forced on him to keep him compliant through the grueling filming days. He did occasionally drop into a club when Angel danced, and a few times he’d watched him dance with a partner or give lap dances on stage to the non-VIP chumps with enough cash to afford the privilege and it usually only bothered him when creeps couldn’t keep their hands to themselves and enjoy the artistry that was Angel Dust in his element. What he appreciated most was seeing Angel enjoy himself, reveling in the supple strength and grace of his own body and the way he moved it, powerful in his sensuality.
Stolas trilled low in his throat. “No matter what they’re doing, they both always have such fire and chemistry with one another; like a pair of perfectly matched dancers utterly losing themselves in the music and the energy and each other. And well,” He shrugged, blushing, “they’re both just so fucking hot aren’t they?”
Husk snorted. “I’ll have to defer to your judgement on that, choue, but they do look awful nice together. I may not have seen firsthand them- er, doing the tango, though if what Angel has told me is even half true, Blitzø knows how to appreciate a beautiful man and that I can respect.” He winked at Stolas just to watch that hectic blush deepen.
“Well, you’re not wrong. My Blitzy could put even the most wanton hedonist to shame.” He sighed yearningly, and Husk watched fingers disappear up the cuff of one sleeve, plucking at the back of his wrist seemingly without realizing he was doing it. “I wish I felt more worthy of that appreciation lately.”
As tiny bits of black fluff began to float to the ground, Husk felt his heart clench. A molt was one thing, a natural response to changes in the environment or stress, but over-preening and plucking was nothing short of a neon sign that something more was going on and he wanted to do whatever he could to help his friend through this difficult time.
He used the tip of his wing to ease Stolas’ hands apart, tucking him in tighter when he made a noise of frustration once he realized what he’d been doing.
“You ain’t been letting him help you through the molt.” Husk guessed.
Stolas turned and buried his face in Husk’s shoulder. “I couldn’t. He’s tried, more than once, but- preening is a social, neutral act of care among most avians, indeed even when Stella and I were first married and could barely stand to be in the same room, it wasn’t unusual to gravitate to one another for that at least, and when Via came along, it was often the only time we were able to properly bond together as a family. With a nest partner though, it’s expected to be quite sensual, but I had never truly experienced that until I met Blitzø. Preening has become a prelude to making love for the two of us and we haven’t- we’re not really- you see, my mental health has been in rather a state of f-flux and I- I feel like a such prick tease letting things get heated in the moment and then not being able to meet his level of passion.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna sit here and tell you shouldn’t feel that way if that’s what you’re feeling, but you gotta know that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having a low sex drive sometimes when things are hard, or shit, even most of the time. And hell, even if I didn’t know for plain fact that red idiot over there was head over fuckin’ heels for you, I couldn’t imagine him being the type to make you feel shitty about something like that.” He lightly jostled Stolas to sit up and he reached out to cup Stolas’ face, moving slowly enough so that the owl could object if he didn’t want to be touched. The faint scrape of spiky new pin feathers tickled against his sensitive palm pad. “Will you let me help, choue? Y’ain’t gotta worry much about getting me revved up, and like you was saying,” he felt heat creep across his own face, but he was committed now dammit, “it’s a way to take care of each other, to…bond in a way that ain’t got nothin’ to do with sex.”
Stolas sniffled and pushed his cheek into Husk’s hand, giving him a wide-eyed look of astonishment, the gleaming white pupil blowing out and becoming alarmingly shiny.
A quiet rustle at the edge of the cushion pile sent Husk’s ear twitching in the direction of the sound. He offered Stolas a soft smile before turning to find Blitzø and Angel both sprawled on their stomachs gazing at the two of them with matching gooey expressions, chins propped on their hands and kicking their feet like a pair of tweens at a sleepover.
“Aww Husky, you’re just big ol’ fuckin’ marshmallow of a man tonight aren’t ya baby?” Angel cooed.
Husk rolled his eyes affectionately. “Shut up. We’re ‘havin’ a moment,’ yeah?” Stolas twittered into his sleeves and Husk cocked an eyebrow. “Y’all finished here?”
Angel and Blitzø shared a look. “Yeah…thought about what you said and Blitzø is down to donate a little dicking to the needy.” Husk’s other brow joined the one already halfway up his forehead and Angel snickered like the little shit that he was. “We was actually just comin’ over to see if the two’a youse would wanna go upstairs to talk about it, but ya just looked so nice and sweet together we got distracted watchin’ ya, yanno?”
The sheer irony of hearing his own words about Angel and Blitzø echoed back to him almost verbatim had him rumbling with delighted laughter.
“Yeah, sweets, I think I know what you mean.”
…
The hiss of the ensuite shower running on full blast greeted Husk as he closed the door behind him.
“That you, kitty?” Angel called from behind the curtain.
“Yeah it’s me. Just dropped the kiddo off to the Princess for a little playdate with KeeKee.” He settled onto the frilly little tufted stool next to the sink.
Angel gasped, “Oh you fuck, you know it drives me crazy when you take the daddy thing literally.”
Husk smirked to himself. “She also said she’d be happy to keep him overnight, so I think the response you’re lookin’ for there is ‘thank you, Husk,’ brat.”
“Oh, I’ll give ya ‘thank you, Husk’ later sto cazzo stronzo-” The rest of his muttered swearing faded under the sound of the spray.
A knock on the door echoed through the steamy tiled space, opening a crack.
“Psst - Ange, babe, can I take your dance gear for something?” Blitzø hissed, looking shifty as fuck glancing back over his shoulder.
Angel’s water-slicked head popped out from around the curtain of spiderweb-patterned lace. “The fuck you need my sweaty laundry for, creep?” he asked, baffled.
Blitzø rolled his eyes. “’Cause I’m gonna sell em on hell-Bay obviously. Internet gooners’ll pay a fuckin’ fortune for a sniff of Angel Dust’s used jock.”
Angel snorted when the imp waggled his brows like a dork. “And don’t I fucking know it. Fine, ya little freak, knock yaself out I guess.”
He and Husk both watched as Blitzø gathered up an armful of clothes from the top of Angel’s hamper and beat a hasty retreat trailing knee highs and bralettes as he went. Angel shook his head and ducked back into the shower. “What the fuck.”
“Bet you he’s makin’ a nest for Stolas.” Husk grinned.
The shower cut off with a squeak and Angel threw back the curtain to swoon at Husk with his big, shimmery heart eyes before reaching for a towel.
“Oh, my fuckin’ God Husky. They’re so fucking cute, I fucking can’t.”
Husk tugged Angel’s robe off the hook and inched closer to hold it open as he finished scrubbing at his damp fur. “It’s sweet for sure. Guy might try to bluff and bluster his way around it, but its obvious he takes caring for his bird seriously.”
Angel slipped into the robe and pulled at Husk’s arms until they were pressed lightly together chest-to-chest. “You’re gonna take good care of him too y’know baby.” Angel smacked a kiss between his brows. “Anything we can do to take care of you tonight?”
Husk shook his head. “I’m good, sweetheart. You just enjoy yourself as much as you want, don’t feel like you gotta hold back because I’m here when I usually ain’t.”
Angel bit his lip. “And you- you’re sure you’re okay with watchin’? I know you don’t like-”
He stopped Angel’s sudden uncertain spiral with a finger to his lips. “It ain’t you I don’t like watchin,’ it’s never that, I swear it. I love watching you lose yourself in your pleasure, whether that’s dancing or gettin’ off, or fuck, anything you love doing Angel. But I trust you, and I trust Blitzø to treat you right, even if that means hurtin’ you the way you like, and no more or less. I wanna see how gorgeous you look gettin’ exactly what you need tonight.”
Six arms wrapped around him like a fluffy kraken and Angel sighed dreamily. “Marshmallow. Man.” He squeezed tightly once and then released him. “Ya sure y’don’t want your dick sucked tonight, amore? ‘Cause, goddamn Husky…”
Husk snorted and lifted onto his toes to drop a handful of butterfly kisses to Angel’s jaw, pulling back once he was giggling. “I’m sure. If that changes though, I’ll let ya know, promise.”
Husk ducked under the sink to grab the sparkly preening caddy and held his hand out for Angel.
“C’mon, lets go see if Blitzø is done with his fussing.”
…
“You gonna be good for daddy Husk, baby bird? Let him take care of you real nice? That’s my sweet boy, that’s so good. And you’ll let us know if watching daddy be rough with Angel is too much, right? That’s right, you’ll use your colors. No, baby, Angel won’t be upset if we need to take a rain-check on the hard stuff, I know you know that. Remember our rule? Whether you’re fucking, getting fucked, or watching you’re always involved with every part of what happens and that’s not changing now, okay?”
Husk and Angel slipped out of the ensuite to find Blitzø sat with Stolas in his lap in the middle of an impressive nest of various bits of his and Angel’s clothing, fluffy blankets and silly novelty pillows shaped like lips and dicks and who the fuck knew what else. He was very much still fussing, but they looked so perfectly in-tune with one another like this, checking in and reassuring and being so clearly fucking in love with each other that for once Husk didn’t have it in him to razz him for it.
Even though Blitzø had apparently daddy-ed him in the process.
Angel went to his knees just outside the nest and laid a hand on Stolas’ leg, thumb stroking softly. “Hey beautiful, hope you’re listening and hearing that daddy a’ yours. We’re all here together, okay? That means everyone has to be green ‘bout all of it, Husky too. Either of you get to feelin’ not green, we stop. You both mean too much to me to bear the thought of you keepin’ that to yourself just so’s me and Blitzø can get a little nasty, yeah?”
Stolas nodded, “Y-yes, I hear you. Both of you. How incredibly lucky I am to be so well loved by such lovely men.” He blushed that precious hot red again.
Angel smiled gently. “Ditto. Can I kiss you, honey?”
Stolas slid out of Blitzø’s lap and shuffled over to Angel, trailing fingers across his cheek. “Always, my darling Angel.”
Husk and Blitzø watched them move in sync in a kiss so achingly tender it almost felt sacrilegious to bear witness to these two ethereal beings in congress with one another.
When they separated with a pair of sighs, Blitzø cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Husk. “So, uh- should we kiss now, or what?”
Husk cocked one of his own eyebrows right back. “Hm, maybe later big guy.”
Angel’s surprised bark of laughter and Stolas’ twittering were a perfect complement to the unexpectedly adorable bloom of dusky color across Blitzø’s stunned face.
…
“Room for one more in there?” Husk smiled down at Stolas when he motioned him in to the nest, pleased to see how much more at ease he seemed to be now compared to earlier.
He settled in and let the comingled scents of Angel and Blitzø wash over him (and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was something of his somewhere in this nest, too). He lifted the caddy onto his knee. “Think we got some pretty good stuff in here, want to take a look while those two figure out their game plan?” Stolas leaned forward to peer into the caddy with cautious interest. Husk was sure that whatever broke-fancy shit he and Angel had wouldn’t come close to the kinds of products available to someone of Stolas’ social status, however in disgrace he might think himself to be, but it was what they had. “If you’d rather me not use something you don’t think you’d like, that’s okay too.”
Stolas plucked up a gaudy pink bottle half full of even pinker raspberry scented preening oil with a little smile, unscrewing the plastic cap and wafting it in front of his nose as if it were fine wine that needed to breathe. He caught Husk’s look of disbelief and blushed, then shrugged. “Blitzy likes to use this one on me. It’s a bit silly but it’s the same scent as his favorite body wash and he likes it very much when I smell like him.”
Husk laughed. “Christ wept, they really are the same goddamn person, aren’t they?” He rolled his eyes fondly. “Angel loves using that shit on me even though it makes me reek like I took a bath in fuckin’ Chambord.” He took the bottle back from Stolas and recapped it, setting it to the side. If Stolas happily used that cheap shit, he probably wouldn’t have an issue with the rest of it. “Okay, anything in here you wouldn’t want me to use?”
Stolas shook his head. “No, I-I trust you Husker. Actually,” his eyes dipped briefly to his hands. “Would it be alright if I didn’t want to make anymore decisions for a little while?”
Husk lifted Stolas’ chin from where he’d tucked it down into his hoodie again. “That’s perfectly okay, sweetheart. Thanks for tellin’ me.” He tugged at the baggy sleeve. “Can we take this off? I’ll help.”
Stolas nibbled at his lower lip and peeked over his shoulder at the bed where Angel and Blitzø were playfully shoving one another and biting kisses to every new expanse of exposed skin as they stripped each other. He took a deep breath and reached for the knot of hoodie strings, tugging them loose then held his arms out for Husk.
He smiled. “Just like that, thank you. Alright, here we go, okay?”
Husk curled his fingers under the bottom hem of the hoodie and lifted little by little until he could pull it free from his head to avoid catching the fabric on the newly grown feathers he knew must be all over Stolas’ lean body, folding it into a loose bundle and adding it to the side of the nest.
He clocked Stolas’ rising anxiety at being uncovered and intercepted his hand-wringing by offering his own hands to hold while he looked over the long length of his torso. Stolas’ normally prominent contour feathers at his chest looked the worst for wear than anything he’d seen by that point, the downy barbules that gave them their signature fluff missing in many places making the remaining feather appear stringy. The rest of his front looked well covered though, if a little ragged with regrowth.
A strangled moan drew their attention, and Husk paused his survey to take in the scene. Angel had Blitzø pinned to the mattress with a hand each at both wrists and ankles; the remaining pair wrapped around a dick apiece. Angel slowly worked his cock while he held Blitzø’s steady and lowered himself onto it until he bottomed out with a satisfied grunt.
When Stolas cooed low in his throat Husk blinked in surprise at the sight of the back of the owl’s head. He chuckled and squeezed Stolas’ hands 'til he was facing forward again, charmingly pink in the cheeks.
“How ‘bout you turn around for me, honey? I think we oughta start with your back so you’re more comfortable later, and you can watch those two play at the same time, okay?”
Stolas nodded and twisted around to give Husk his back. The long plume of his tailfeathers fanned delicately in the space between them. Husk stroked a fingertip down the shaft of one and smiled gently when Stolas went still and peered over his shoulder. His tail looked and felt the healthiest of his feathers so far, which might have more to do with the fact that those particular feathers were made to be hardy and functional, but as they were too large to be covered easily like the rest of him could, they were also likely the ones he cared for the most.
“Mm, yeah baby, you gonna ride that dick like the hungry little slut everyone knows you are?” Blitzø growled. Husk chose a cobalt blue bottle from the caddy and shook a handful of powder into his palm, watching Angel bounce steadily on Blitzø’s cock with his head thrown back in pleasure and fully missing the growing smirk of the man beneath him. Without warning, Blitzø’s unrestrained tail wound like a snake around Angel’s waist and tightened, yanking him down roughly at the peak of a slow upstroke. “There we go, that’s more like it. Did you have fun playing power-bottom little spider? Hope so, ‘cause it’s daddy’s turn behind the wheel now and he’s gonna put the fucking hammer down.” Angel yelped and swore, releasing Blitzø’s wrists in favor of bracing himself when Blitzø started pounding into him, tail working in concert with his pistoning hips, almost using Angel’s body to jerk himself off, just a hot, wet hole to fuck as hard and fast as he wanted. The imp buried his claws in Angel’s hair and dragged him in, panting. “Fuck, can you feel how deep inside you daddy is right now? This greedy little pussy sucking me in and begging for more, isn’t it? Bet if I squeeze juuust right I could feel myself all up in there rearranging those guts, huh?” Angel spasmed, sobbing into Blitzø’s mouth and Husk imagined he could actually see the slight distention of Angel’s lower belly moving beneath the coil of Blitzø’s tail as he was fucked senseless.
Husk swallowed and lifted his hands to Stolas’ shoulders and upper back, using the pads of his fingers to spread the silky powder at the roots of the more matted feathers. He knew not every feathered creature included dust bathing in their preening routine, but Husk personally liked the way it helped absorb dirt and old preen oil in between bathing with water. He thought Stolas would probably find it soothing as well. As he worked he was able to feel a good number of pinfeathers that needed some help to shed their sheaths, taking advantage of his claws to split the hardened protective coating at the base and ease it free. Next, with his claws covered in a light sheen of that fuckin’ raspberry scented oil, Husk combed through the clean feathers, straightening the misaligned barbules to lay flat and sleek once more.
Stolas shivered when Husk reached the base of his tail, but beyond making a note that it was an extra sensitive spot, he moved on quickly. He wasn’t bothered by Stolas’ arousal, they were watching their mutual partners fuck like rabbits from less than six feet away for Christ’s sake and it wasn’t like Husk was unaffected by it either, but Stolas had said he’d been feeling anxious about conflating preening with sex. He encouraged Stolas to lean back against his chest so that he could keep watching while Husk repeated the process on his front.
Angel whined in protest when Blitzø pulled him off his dick completely and swiftly found himself chest-down on the bed with Blitzo’s tail lashing every one of his arms tight to his body like a lasso. Blitzø seized his hips and wrenched him up into a gorgeously sharp arch. He knocked Angel’s trembling knees apart with a foot and palmed both round, pink asscheeks, spreading him open wide and wider until Angel whimpered, the sloppy, slickness of his well-fucked vulva quivering and begging to be filled again. The hard swell of Angel’s cock was tight against his stomach, a single shining strand of pre-come leaking from the tip.
Husk’s breath caught when Blitzø lined up the fat head of his dick with Angel’s tight hole, his own asshole clenching tight in sympathy at the thought of that brutish thing shoving into Angel without even the consideration of a finger first. He’d let Angel fuck him a handful of times when the mood struck them and he enjoyed it well enough as long as they used condoms to mitigate the mess of it all, but Angel’s dick was on the slender side whereas Blitzø’s was downright terrifying to think about taking for himself.
“Ah, fuck Blitzø, please. Give it to me daddy, please.” Angel moaned. Blitzø bared his teeth and pressed forward. Husk huffed quietly in relief when Angel opened easily around the intrusion, clearly he’d spent the majority of his time in the shower prepping for exactly this possibility. Blitzø worked the tip inside and paused, grin crawling across his face as Angel squirmed in his iron grasp, trying take control and sink back onto the rest of that thick red dick. After struggling for a moment Angel snarled over his shoulder, eyespots flashing in desperation, “Vaffanculo, fottuto figlio di puttana, just fuck me already!”
Blitzø tsked, purring. “Oh, little spider, you know all you had to do was ask.”
Husk was smoothing oil down Stolas’ belly, and he felt more than heard the gasp that left him the second Blitzø shoved in to the root, a silent echo to Angel’s scream, felt the hands fisting in the fabric of his slacks. Husk laid his palm flat and nosed a quick kiss to Stolas’ jaw.
“Let’s check in. How you feeling? Can you tell me your color?” He murmured.
Stolas nodded rapidly, pinpointed little pupils fixated on the pair on the bed. “Yes, da-Sir? Yes, Husk. Good. Green.”
Husk smiled. “That’s good, thank you. Let’s get your bottoms off, okay sweetheart? Need to get your legs now.”
Stolas froze, heart rabbiting against Husk’s chest. “I’m- I wouldn’t want to make you unc-“
“Shh, it’s alright. I know. I won’t be uncomfortable if you’re turned on, whether it’s ‘cause the preenin’s got you feeling good or from watchin,’ okay? It doesn’t need to be anything more than feelin’ good unless you want it to be. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. You’ve already done so well lettin’ me help this much.”
Stolas’ belly dipped again under his hand and Husk was about to offer more reassurance that he had no expectations of anything when Stolas began skinning out of his leggings, letting Husk hold his weight as he slipped them off his feet.
“Good boy, Stolas, thank you.” Husk whispered.
He let Stolas alone for a moment so he could adjust to being fully nude while he assessed the bare, sad plucked-chicken looking flesh that stretched in uneven patches from the shallow wing of each hipbone down to the inner thighs. There wasn’t much Husk could do right then for feathers that were completely plucked out, but he could help with soothing the sore skin and stimulate future growth in the meantime.
He switched from the heavily fragranced preening oil he had been using to something that smelled faintly like peppermint and herbs and was intended to be healing.
“If you’d rather do this part yourself, don’t be afraid to tell me, but I’d like to use this,” he held up the pale purple bottle until Stolas looked at it, “right here,” he outlined the patch of skin on Stolas’ left thigh without touching. “Wouldn’t be coppin’ a feel, just-”
“Just taking care of me, yes.” Stolas smiled. He nibbled at his lip again before relaxing back against Husk, thighs parting until they rested against the horseshoe curve of Husk’s outstretched legs. Husk kissed the side of Stolas’ head to praise him for his trust, then sprinkled a couple drops of the oil on his palm pads and massaged it in without letting the touch linger.
Stolas seemed to enjoy the aromatic scent of the oil at least, and Husk recalled Stolas telling him during one of those rare quiet Thursday evenings when he and Blitzø weren’t actively trying to fuck on top of his bar, that the owl was a hobby gardener. He could probably name all of the ingredients in the bottle without even looking at the label. He applied some more to his claws to finally tackle the baby’s-hair fine feathers on Stolas’ facial disk and his crest as the moaning and swearing began to grow louder and more frantic.
Blitzø had Angel up on his knees and bent backward over his shoulder, fucking up into him punishingly hard. Angel had one hand clamped onto Blitzø’s ass, urging him on even faster and harder as he cried out with every spine-jolting thrust. He rode his own fist while Blitzø teased the tip of his tail against his vulva and Husk could tell he was on the verge of pushing over that razor edge he loved riding between pain, pleasure, and overstimulation and utterly blissed out in that haze of all three at once.
Stolas warbled and squirmed, fingers tightening in Husk’s slacks again.
“You can touch yourself if you want, choue. Don’t hold back because’a me.” Husk reassured, eyes locked on Angel.
Blitzø’s head tilted, and his tongue flickered in the air as if tasting it for half a second before he looked over and groaned like he’d been gut-punched. Angel followed another second later, blinking lust fogged eyes, body jerking.
“Oh fuck, are you seein’ this Blitzø?” He moaned sounding almost pained.
“Bitch, I only got the two eyes, you got fuckin’ eight, if I fuckin’ see it you fuckin’ see it. Christ baby bird-”
“How fuckin’- oh, shit honey look how soaked you are, is that for us baby? Rub that pretty little cock for us, please, fuck, you’re gonna make me fuckin’ come, look at you, so fuckin’ sweet-”
Angel cried out sharply and spilled heavily over his fist, eyes never straying from between Stolas’ thighs, even as he slumped down onto his hands and let Blitzø ride his ass into the mattress as he chased his own orgasm.
“Ah fuck, Angel, babe you got maybe thirty seconds to tell me where you want it or you’re gonna get cream-pied so hard you’ll be dripping come for a week, fuuuuck-”
Stolas moaned hungrily and Husk watched as Blitzø and Angel shared a frantic look and nodded, then, as soon as Blitzø pulled out, Angel flipped over onto his back with his mouth open wide. Blitzø stood astride Angel’s chest and fisted his cock, jacking it hard until he shouted a curse and shot a thick stream of come onto Angel’s tongue.
He heaved a breath and leaned down to swipe a tender thumb over Angel’s chin. “Good boy, go on.”
Angel grinned and tumbled acrobatically off the bed to crawl over to the nest. His mouth was still obviously full, and Husk resigned himself just this once to Angel’s love of mess, grateful at least that he wasn’t going to try to feed Blitzø’s come to him.
Stolas panted, arm working frantically as Angel advanced. When Angel shouldered between both Stolas and Husk’s thighs to hover his face above Stolas,’ the owl whimpered and opened his beak. Angel caught Husk’s eye and winked at whatever was on his face before he parted his lips and dribbled a sloppy stream into Stolas’ gasping mouth. As he obediently swallowed his mouthful of spunk like it was top-shelf Scotch, Angel groaned and fed him his own tongue next, kissing Stolas even sloppier and sharing every last drop until he shuddered to a screeching climax between them.
…
“Y’know, I don’t think this nest was built for four people.” Husk groused from his spot, semi-squished between Angel and Stolas with his head ‘pillowed’ by that fuck-ass horse hoodie.
Blitzø shot him a middle finger from where he lay half atop Stolas, nuzzling and fussing him, stroking his sleek feathers. “Are you talking shit about my nest building skills, Husker?”
Stolas sighed, a smile in his voice. “I think it’s a very lovely nest, darling.”
Blitzø smirked, smugly returning to his lazy examination of Husk’s preening skills. “Damn fuckin’ right it is.” He flicked his tongue and inhaled. “You smell real nice, baby bird.”
Stolas turned his head and met Husk’s eyes, his own sparkling with humor. “Why thank you, my love. Apparently you and our dear Angel have the same taste in preening oils.”
Angel snuggled closer against Husk’s back and stretched a hand over top of the pile of their bodies to high-five Blitzø, slurring tiredly, “Fuck yeah, bro.”
Husk rolled his eyes and huffed, doing his best to get as comfortable as possible if they were all committed to cuddling in a pile of clothes on the fucking floor.
Faint snores soon came from the demon behind him and not long after, Stolas started up with his cute little hooty sleep noises.
“Hey, Husk?”
Husk blinked his eyes open to see Blitzø curled up on Stolas’ side, eyes luminescent in the low light.
“Yeah? What’sa matter?”
Blitzø’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Nah, nothing, I just- Thanks for takin’ care of my boy tonight. Meant a lot to see him trust someone else with that.”
Husk returned his soft, crooked smile. “Was happy to, Red. Thanks for takin’ care of mine.”
They stared at each other for a long minute.
“Now should we kiss?” Blitzø whispered.
Husk smothered a snort of laughter.
“Yeah, why the fuck not. Get over here, man.”
Blitzø rolled nimbly off Stolas and into the handful of inches between Husk’s body and Stolas,’ eyes drifting closed when Husk curled a hand around the back of his head.
The kiss was brief and closed-mouthed but sweeter than Husk could have ever anticipated and somehow exactly what he wanted it to be in that moment.
He never would have dreamed that he’d have ended up here, feeling for the first time that he wasn’t just observing from the sideline the way he’d always felt safest, happiest even, doing.
Feeling like he was part of something.
Part of them.