Bubbling Fears

Angel Dust felt absolutely disgusting. His shift at work had been extra long, and he hardly had been given a break to get cleaned up between shoots. Valentino had told him that people wanted him looking messy, but he looked like an actual dumpster fire on legs. His normally glossy yet fluffy fur was slick, clumpy, and pressed against his body in a way that made him want to rip it all off. Chunks of semen had dried on him from not being allowed to wipe it off, his legs ached, and he could barely walk straight- or walk at all- with the throbbing between his legs. He'd have to check tomorrow to make sure he didn't contract any STDs or what not because he felt like he had at least one on him if not inside of him.

The walk back to the hotel felt like he was stepping on hot coals the entire way there. His heels clicked on the stone, and he nearly broke his ankle multiple times from stepping on cracks in the sidewalk. His feet felt like someone had set them on fire, and he wanted to cry. The whistles and catcalls became little buzzing in his ears as he focused on just walking straight and keeping his skirt from falling off his hips. It had been torn on the side instead of unzipped in the back, and Angel Dust had been furious. One sharp slap from Valentino across his cheek had him biting the inside of his cheek and keeping quiet for the rest of the shoot though.

The pornstar had to keep from crying or even letting that lump in his throat form because as soon as he did, he wouldn't be able to stop and he did not need to become a sobbing wreck on the streets of Hell- and especially not when he was still in the Entertainment District. That was a spelling of a million things that could go wrong if he ever heard of one.

The door to the hotel creaked as Angel pushed it open with one hand, another two holding his skirt up, and the third cradling his hip and hugging around himself. He glanced around the dark lobby, at first thinking and hoping that everyone had gone to bed when his eyes darted over to the bar and saw a little lamp on. Fuck. That wish had gone out the window. Maybe he could just-
"Angel?" The white spider froze, still halfway through the door. Maybe if he went now he could run to the elevator before Husk got out from behind the bar, but his body wasn't doing anything. He was hardly aware that the bartender had started walking over to him.

"Jesus, man. You look like shit," Husk scoffed, reaching for Angel who flinched back and nearly pulled the door shut on the cat. Husk's paw pulled back but still hovered; his brow had furrowed, and his frown deepened.

"Angel, you in there?" He waved a hand in front of the other's face and snapped his fingers a couple of times until Angel's pink eyes focused on Husk's amber ones that swam in the depth of his inky scleras. The spider sucked in a breath through his teeth as he gazed at them, letting himself sink further into a mindless state. Husk took the time to examine the other, spotting the gunk that clung to Angel and the red that stained his light colored fur, the tattered clothes, and how his legs wobbled.

"C'mon, man. You're about ready to fall over," he murmured, reaching out again but not forcing his hand and, instead, offered it. It took Angel a few moments to process it, but when he did, he reached out and grasped Husk's paw so tightly that the cat had to hold back a grimace. The bartender pulled the other demon inside and the door shut with a soft click that neither of them paid attention to as Husk led his friend (?) over to the couch in the lobby. After setting Angel down, he reached to the side to turn on a nearby lamp and let Husk see the full extent of how messy the pornstar was. Angel's eyes were wide and doe-like, but there were clear dark bags under them. His makeup was smeared horribly, and Husk wiped away a trail of lipstick from Angel's cheek gently.

"What in the world happened to you?" Husk whispered, trying to let go of Angel's hand to better check his injuries, but Angel held his paw in a death grip. There was no way in hell that all of that happened at Valentino's studio; Husk was almost completely sure. In fact, Angel hadn't been looking the cleanest lately, and his fur had started to appear oily and greasy.