Work Text:
Angel hasn’t had the chance to smoke in a while, and he’s craving the warm embrace of a packed bowl and his overstuffed comforter. Maybe some stupid Voxtube videos to round the entire night out.
He’s opening the repurposed, sticker-covered cigar box, dreaming about how good that first inhale is going to feel, when he realizes his stash bag looks licked clean. His memory is fuzzy, but he remembers Cherri scaling the outside of the Hotel to watch shitty reality shows and Angel offered to smoke her out when the show about demons getting married without knowing each other wasn’t hitting as good as they wanted to. He vaguely remembers a lot of weed, Cherri’s crooked joints and falling asleep being spooned by her.
Well, fuck.
Angel could go find a vending machine somewhere, but the lighter stuff like weed is always sold out- not every demon in the Pride Ring is knocking back E and coke like breath mints and Pixie Stix the way he does. He’s also tired and was looking forward to the pain relief getting stoned would offer.
So he turns his thoughts to the other residents of the Hotel and thinks about who would be likely to have some weed. Charlie looks like the hardest thing she’s ever touched is root beer, and Vaggie is so hardcore on the redemption front he doubts she’d ever entertain the idea of him asking for drugs- probably just start rooting through his hiding places looking for his stash again.
Niffty- he’d probably get literal weeds from the flowerbed, and Smiles? Hell- he doesn’t even want to consider the condescending head tilt and ever-present smile of annoyance he’d get.
Then he considers Husk.
Husk is more of a drinker, sure, but who’s to say he doesn’t partake? He’s caught him with a cigarette a few times, and they always look hand rolled. Maybe he’s smuggling spliffs past the Fun Police.
Fuck it, Angel thinks, sad sack could probably use the company anyway.
He changes into a soft nightie and robe because even though he and Husk are on good terms- hell, great terms and their friendship is budding, Angel still has a thing for the bartender. He isn’t going to turn it off even though he’s going in for a smoke, not a fuck.
Husk’s room isn’t far from his- end of the hall, to the left and a few doors down. His footsteps are soft in his pig slippers and it seems like Husk doesn’t hear him coming with those big ears of his, because he can hear a grunt of surprise when he knocks.
“Husky, lemme in. Just me.” He knows if he doesn’t announce himself, Husk’ll just leave the door closed and pretend he’s asleep. He doesn’t really like the other residents bothering his off time, but Angel is special. I’m allowed to bother him, he thinks with a swell of pride.
Husk opens the door and leans against, looking up at Angel with a quirked brow, questioning why he’s there without even opening his mouth. In contrast to Angel’s soft pink silk, Husk is in worn flannel pants that are beyond ratty at the ankles. There’s no shirt or suspenders, and his bowtie is removed, and Angel is pleased to see thick arms and a soft, rounded belly uninterrupted.
“What- ain’t gonna invite a lady in? Tsk, tsk, Husky. Step aside.” Husk rolls his eyes, but does as told, and Angel can see the little smile quirk the corner of his lips. His tail shuts the door behind him, and Angel sits himself down on the overstuffed armchair and crosses one leg over the other daintily.
“Ain’t gotta invite you in when I know you’re gonna invite yourself,” Husk smiles and saunters over to the bar cart in his room, and he starts fixing two drinks- one just the way he knows Angel likes it- sweet and tart.
“None for me- I’m here to partake in, uh… other vices.”
Husk’s head whips around and his eyebrows raise.
“Not sex, ya pervert. That all you think about?” Angel smirks teasingly, and Husk rolls his eyes again.
“Careful,” Angel chides, “if the wind changes ya face’ll get stuck like that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Spit it out, Legs. Whaddya want from me?”
“I was lookin’ forward to getting stoned outta my goddamn mind tonight, but I’m outta weed. I don’t suppose you partake in the stuff?” Angel gives him a hopeful look, and Husk sighs in a put upon fashion, but he’s rifling through what looks to be his underwear drawer a moment later and pulling forth a much more ornate looking box compared to what Angel keeps his supplies in.
“Ooooh, Husky- you sure know how to treat a lady right.” Angel makes grabbing motions towards the box, but Husk holds up a finger to him and sits across from him on the bed.
“If I can’t fix you a drink, lemme roll you a joint.” Husk pulls out his supplies which are, again, much nicer and neater than Angel’s, and uses the lid as a tray as he starts expertly rolling a joint. Maybe it’s the way his fingers look so dextrous or the way he runs his rough tongue along with edge of the rolling paper to secure it- but Angel feels hot from his head to the tips of his feet.
Husk hands a perfectly rolled joint over to Angel, and their fingers brush when Angel takes it.
“Now don’t make me smoke alone, Husky. We both know it’s more fun with good company.”
Husk knows he’s playing a dangerous game here.
Weed is not something he partakes in often, because his usual activities while high are time consuming, to say the least.
The thing is…Weed makes him horny.
Really, ridiculously horny.
And Husk may be dead, but he isn’t stupid and he’s got eyes. Angel is gorgeous- legs to Heaven and curves that make his mouth go dry- smoking with him is a recipe for disaster.
Or more accurately, a recipe for an ill-timed hard on.
But before he can think of an excuse, he’s dry mouthed and nodding. Angel beams, and it makes the dark spot that swirls in his chest lighten. There’s something so joyful about him when he smiles. There’s none of the dim, rotten parts of Hell in it. Distantly, Husk thinks Angel could power all of Heaven with that smile.
“Y’ever shotgun with anyone, Husky?” Angel watches enraptured as Husk blows smoke rings on the exhale. Husk is up against the headboard of his bed, legs over Angel, who’s laying on his belly with his top set of arms hanging off the bed and cheek smushed against the comforter. He feels so warm and good. Husk must have some hell of a hookup because this weed is better than any garbage Angel has ever gotten.
“Can’t, uh… say that I have?” Angel titters at his confusion- the way his brow furrows and his shoulders languidly shrug. He pushes himself up with his middle set of arms, and then he’s crawling up and into Husk’s personal space.
“Y’wanna? It’ll save us passin’ back and forth…” Angel’s grasping at straws here- looking for a good reason to climb into Husk’s lap and sate the clawing need in his stomach.
He watches as Husk slowly draws his tongue across his lower lip before he shrugs a shoulder and nods.
Angel’s sure he’s moving fast to get into Husk’s lap, but his limbs are dragging through molasses and three sets of arms on marijuana is two sets too many. It takes a second, maybe more, to get himself comfortable in Husk’s lap. Distantly, he’s aware of something pressing against his cunt, but there’s so many dueling sensations and smells from being this close to Husk that his brain can’t pick one to focus on.
Husk offers up the joint between pitched fingers to him, and Angel takes it with a lazy grin.
“Thanks, doll face. Assume the position.”
Husk looks a little nervous then, so Angel clicks his tongue sympathetically before taking a big inhale and switching the joint to his second set of arms so he can cup his face gently and move in closer, ironically enough like a spider approaching its prey.
Husk feels like prey right now.
Angel is so close and every single part of him is filling his senses. His perfume, the smell of the shampoo he uses on his fur, how goddamn soft and light he is on top of him. He distantly remembers to open his mouth as Angel approaches and then their noses are brushing as Angel blows the smoke right down his throat.
Husk wants to inhale him whole. Hold him in his chest and never, ever let him go.
Angel pulls back with a satisfied smile and pushes his hair back from where it’s flopped forward over his eyes from leaning down to Husk’s level.
“How’s that, Whiskers?”
Husk doesn’t have much time to think, because if he doesn’t taste Angel again right now, he might just die again.
—
Husk takes the joint from Angel and he tries to hide a frown. Was it really that bad that he doesn’t want to do it again? He’s racking his brain for some smart ass comment to make when Husk roughly and quickly inhales from the joint, tosses it aside into the ashtray, and pulls Angel forward hard by his shoulders and presses their lips together in a kiss that is more teeth than anything.
God, it’s the best kiss he’s ever had.
His hands come up to touch Husk, the first set pulling and petting at the fur on the back of his head and the second running over his chest, greedy hands cupping his fat pecs and squeezing and massaging.
All the men he fucks in shoots are built and toned and boring. Husk is a real man. Behind the thickness in his chest and belly and arms is a strength that Angel just knows could pin him and every limb to the bed without breaking a sweat.
Maybe later, he thinks somewhere in his dazed mind. All he knows right now is that if he doesn’t get Husk’s fat cock inside him right now, he might literally die.
“Calm down, baby. Y’aint gonna die on my watch.” He blinks confused and slow at Husk until he realizes that he verbalized that thought out loud, and he manages a sheepish smile before he’s sliding back on tree trunk thighs to fish Husk’s cock out of his pajama pants.
Husk reaches down and closes his fist around both of Angel’s wrists to stop him.
“Big,” Angel whispers, completely awed at the fact that Husk can hold him like he’s delicate and hollow boned like a bird.
“You’re not sober, sweetheart. Don’t wanna take advantage of you. ‘m not like him.”
Angel’s heart swells and he thinks that he can’t love this man any more than he already does (love? He’ll revisit that when his cunt isn’t throbbing and dripping slick into Husk’s lap) and he leans forward to press kisses over salt and pepper fur.
“‘m plenty sober, Husky. Promise- weed is child’s play in my books.” Husk huffs a laugh at that, and the way he runs his hand over Angel’s cheek is so tender Angel feels like he’s going to swoon. When did I get so cheesy? He thinks.
Husk lets go of his wrists and within milliseconds, he’s got Husk’s cock out from the gap in his pants. He doesn’t have to do much to it- Husk is already rock hard and dripping pearly precome from the heart shaped head of his cock.
It doesn’t stop Angel from exploring it, though. Feeling the barbs that are on the right side of painful prickling his palm, the way come drips down and mats against the fur of his fingers. He brings his middle and index finger to his mouth and slowly sucks them down, and the moan that comes out of his mouth is anything but put on. Husk tastes good. How does a man who eats a liquid lunch, breakfast and dinner not taste like shit? Angel has no fucking clue, but he needs more.
He bends, almost unnaturally, so he can tongue at the slit of Husk’s cock, letting come coat his tongue and slide down his throat. Angel feels like he’s wearing blinders- everything else melts away into shades of red and black and all he can focus on is the fat cock sitting on his tongue.
Husk can’t take not being buried in Angel much longer. His nose is good which is usually a bonus, but right now it’s killing him that he can smell Angel’s sweet slick dripping from his cunt. He needs to be inside him.
“That’s enough, baby doll. Don’t wanna shoot too soon.” Husk can tell Angel is biting back a remark about his age, so he runs a thumb over his lower lip in praise for him holding his tongue.
“You gonna ride my cock, sweetheart? Think you can take me all in?” One of Husk’s hands drops to his waist and he can almost wrap the entire thing around it. “You’re real little- don’t wanna break you.”
Angel moans unabashedly and bites down hard on his lip. “You know I like a challenge, old timer. ‘Specially one as pretty as your cock.”
“You could use a hundred and one words to describe a cock, and you pick pretty?” Husk is almost offended, but the honey sweet words coming out of Angel’s mouth are hard not to love.
Hell, love, Husk thinks. He’s going to have to revisit that later. Right now getting Angel bouncing on his cock is his first priority.
Husk reaches between Angel’s legs and lets a claw out, and then he’s carefully slicing down the middle of his panties, eyes locked on Angel’s the entire time. He watches his pupils dilate, his lower lip drop and his breath speed up.
“C’mon sweetheart, show me how good you can take a cock.”
Angel wastes no time at all lining up Husk’s cock with his cunt and sinking down. He’s big and the barbs scratch his walls in all the right ways. Angel thinks this might be the best he’s ever been fucked, and he hasn’t even fully seated himself.
When he does, feeling Husk’s balls press up against his perineum and his cock pulse and leak inside him, Angel feels drunk as well as high. It’s like Husk was made to fit inside him- two puzzle pieces slotting together so perfectly.
Husk swears, and Angel moans, head dropping to Husk’s shoulder so he can nuzzle against him for comfort. It’s a little much- having sex with such strong feelings involved. Every inch of his body is singing, burning, screaming. He feels alight with it.
It’s as if Husk can read his mind, because within seconds he’s murmuring soft encouragements into his ear and Angel finally feels ready to pull himself up on Husk’s cock. The drag is intoxicating, barbs prickling him with each throb of Husk’s cock- he can’t get enough.
When Angel looks down at where they’re joined, the bulge of his stomach is unmistakable. He manages to rasp out Husk’s name and then he’s grabbing his hand from where it’s resting on his hip and pressing it to his stomach where Husk’s cock is distending it beyond recognition on each thrust.
And that’s all it takes for Husk. He’s coming hard inside him, bloating Angel’s stomach and filling him with so much come he feels like it might come out of his nose.
Knowing how deep he’s filling Angel, the fact that he’s basically rearranging his guts- it’s all too much for Husk. He can’t help himself, can’t hold on. He comes with a low grunt, shooting deep and hot into Angel’s cunt.
He’s a gentleman, and usually likes to make his partner come first, but Angel’s got some sort of magic power over him. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t make it a good orgasm, though.
Angel’s high and horny enough to let Husk do whatever he wants, so he doesn’t fight back when Husk grabs his waist and pulls him off his cock and lays him down on the bed. Before Angel can even ask what’s happening, Husk is diving down between his legs and sucking on his swollen clit.
Angel shouts, and even though he can’t see him, he can tell he isn’t making any effort to quieten the noises he’s making. Husk purrs against his cunt in response, and Angel shivers and moans even louder, squealing Husk’s name out like a stuck pig.
Husk presses his thumb to Angel’s clit, and moves down to his hole. It’s currently leaking Husk’s come out, and damn if that doesn’t shoot a possessive streak down his spine. He keeps his thumb pressing and rolling against Angel’s clit while he lets his own come leak onto his tongue. Once his mouth feels full, he’s climbing up Angel’s body and drawing him into an open mouthed kiss.
Angel hasn’t been paying enough attention to catch onto what Husk’s doing until he feels Husk’s come and his slick licked into his mouth with Husk’s rough tongue. Angel squeaks into his mouth, and Husk holds back a smirk. He knows Angel didn’t expect this sort of behavior from him, but what can he say? He loves keeping people on their toes.
One final firm press of Husk’s thumb on Angel’s clit is enough, and he’s coming on Husk’s fingers. Husk can feel more of his come trickling out onto his hand, and a possessive purr pushes it’s way out of his mouth and into Angel. The fact that he buried himself so deep in Angel that he’s still leaking his come drives him crazy. He’s already planning on plugging him up next time- keeping him full and his belly rounded with it.
They’re both tired, sticky and still hazy as they breathe hard and come down from their orgasms. Angel nuzzles at Husk’s neck again, and Husk lets out a rolling purr in response.
“Shower,” Husk manages to get out after a few minutes of nuzzling and purring. His voice sounds rough, and he’s purring again once the words are out.
Angel whines in response, and Husk has to remind him they both have fur. He simply sighs in response, and wraps his arms around Husk’s neck. It takes Husk a second to realize he’s expecting to be carried.
When he rolls his eyes, it’s fond, as it always is, and always will be with Angel.