A Good Deal

Chapter 12

His chest was tight with the emotions he simply didn't want to think about. He'd hoped that he could just get Husker in bed to fuck until the pain went away, but his lover was clearly not letting that happen. What was he even supposed to say now? Apologize for being in pain, even though he'd rather not be? Tell him it didn't actually matter that much? Or what about nothing at all, what would happen then? "Please just... at least try to take care of yourself?" There was a defeated sound in his lovers voice that made the tightness in his chest swell and the cat turned away from him. Husker left the kitchen and head back towards the lobby and Angel wanted to scream. To be more specific, he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than just scream; he wanted to throw things, curse, cry, just lay on the floor until morning. Instead, he dragged his fingers through his hair and forced himself to breathe.

"God, I must be a glutton for punishment." He whispered the words seconds before taking off at full speed down the hallway. Sure, his hip hurt like hell. Val had practically tried to break it when he said he wasn't going to spend the night with him Vox, because you don't say no to Val. Once Val had gotten out enough hit, Vox told him to forget it, that Angel was too expensive to risk it and they didn't need him tonight anyways. By the time he reached the lobby, Husker was gone, but there was a shot glass of an amber liquid sitting on the bar top. Grabbing the glass, he threw the shot back and winced as it burned going down. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and started running again. Down the hall, up the stairs, then another flight up, and to the left. He only stopped once he reached room 347; Huskers room. Slamming his fist against the door a few times he waited until the cat opened the door. Clearly, he'd done so reluctantly too.

"Angel, I told you I'm not gonna argue-"

"Then shut up and listen, will ya?" He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. "I've been doing this shit for years, Husker. Long before Val died, and even before I died, and yeah I've grown comfortable with treating myself like shit. I'm a whore and I get treated like one all the time. This isn't the first time he's hit me, and it won't be the last, I promise you that." He was pissed, but he wanted the feline to understand. He wanted him to understand all of it, but where could he even begin? That meant getting his thoughts in order, that meant talking about the nastier side of things; the drugs, the abuse, the absolute self loathing, all of it. He couldn't stop now, not when he was ahead like this. "He's not even the first person to do that, and some people pay lots of money to take a swing at me. It just a few hits, the pain'll be gone by tomorrow morning anyways and I'll be back out walkin' by evening." He dragged his fingers through his hair again and groaned as he tried to get his thoughts in order. Grabbing the hem of his sweater he stripped off the top before pulling down his skirt and letting them both drop to the floor. "This is my version of you letting Alastor call you Dear John."

He was shaking just saying it out loud. He'd heard it, and he knew what it meant. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Alastor used the nickname to rub salt in old wounds. Husker heard the name and flattened his ears with a look that bordered on pain. "You heard that."

"Yeah, I heard that." And more. He'd heard the entire conversation from the moment Alastor had started talking. He'd never forget what the Radio Demon had said, because a small side of him was curious about who Anna was and what she had done. Not that he was going to push the other man to tell him, he wanted Husker to tell him when he was ready. Taking a step forward until he was directly in front of Husk, he leaned his head against the man's shoulder and closed his eyes. "It hurts. It hurts a lot, but it's not the worst I've felt, and I just want you to hold me. Is that so hard?" He fought to not only breathe, but keep himself together enough not to burst into tears. When Husker wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, he lost his fight. A single gasp preluded the fall of the first tears and he buried his face in the cats shoulder. They stood there for long moments before Husker started walking backwards, and dragging Angel with him. After about five steps Angel chuckled through his tears. "What the hell are you doing?" He didn't get a response, instead he continued to be led across the room, until Husk stopped them and opened a door. Finally looking up, he met the cats eyes.