Archive of Our Own ^beta

BRIIIIING

BRIIING

BRI-

“Val, what–?”

“Can’t believe I’m even making this all. If you weren’t such a gold mine–Don’t bother coming to the studio, Angel.” In the background, Angel could hear the rustle and bustle of production crashing to a halt. The scrape of cameras across the floor and sets crashing down laid a menacing soundtrack to Val’s orders to stay put.

“It–”

“One of these new writers was inspired by the storm. He’s already got three new scripts for you for tomorrow, but in the meantime, they need some serious rewrites. Consider it my gift to my favorite star.”

“But–”

“Next time I see you better be tomorrow morning, with a freshly blacked asshole. All that fur– BETTER NOT BE A DONKEY, AFTER WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME–!”

The sudden volume made Angel flinch, but he managed to keep the shake out of his voice. “Yah, of course. Merry Christmas.”

“Bright and early tomorrow, you hear me, Angel?” 

“Yes, Val.” 

Val screamed in Spanish again, something crashing in the background before the line abruptly dropped. Not like Val at all to let Angel rest for any period, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With a sigh, he dropped his phone on his sheets, only for Fat Nuggets to take its place under his hand. The piglet snorted into his palm, bright eyes shimmering under the fairy lights above the bed. 

Angel huffed fondly, hands smoothing down sleep-warm patches of wiry hair on the pig’s back. , standing up from his bed and curling up under Angel’s arm.

“Sorry, baby boy.” Angel sighed, “Didn’t mean ta wake you up.” Fat Nuggets grunted, lifting his behind to press it into Angel’s palm. As the two of them were about to roll over and go back to sleep, a knock on the door made them jump.

“No,” Angel mumbled, reaching up to pull one of the ten pillows he had on his bed over his head. Another, less patient knock, made him sit up, but the voice on the other side forced him to his feet. 

On the other side of the door, Vaggie leaned on one leg - arms crossed and face impassive.

“You up?” she asked simply, just barely peeking into Angel’s room. The light from the hallway threw a line of bright light over his mess of blankets. “Or did I interrupt something carnal?”

“I’m good at other stuff, Vagina. What do you want?’

“Charlie wants everyone downstairs–”

“You gotta pay extra for that, toots.” Angel teased, 

“ For bonding and shit, pendejo. And not matter what, you’re gonna join in and participate.”

“Why?”

“Because you live here rent-free and because we both know that if Charlie asks, it’s a no questions activity.”

So much for a break. Scooping Nuggets up, Angel followed Vaggie to the stairs. And to his credit, he only thought about tripping her twice on the way down. 

Maybe he was becoming a better person.

Charlie greeted him in the lobby, dressed to the nines in a bright red dress trimmed with sparkly tinsel and a matching hat on her head. It even had one of those old-fashioned baubles on the end that jingled when she whipped her head around. 

“Oh my gosh, Angel!! Did you see the snow?” she gushed, hugging him so tightly, you’d never know she saw him less than two hours ago. 

“Got a call from Val about it,” he sighed, patting her on the back lightly. She released him with her trademarked toothy grin. “I was gonna sleep and then the warrior princess here made me come downstairs.” 

Vaggie scowled, brows raising so high Angel almost laughed. “I needed some help, and really you were the only person I could ask because you know being from sort of a classic era I had so many questions about decoration and gifts and what games were the best I mean I’ve never actually been to the human realm and doesn’t it make a difference when you know what the rules are fo–”

“ Charlie. ”

“It’s for a Christmas party!”

“Charlie, no , not another one!” Angel groaned, staring at Charlie’s string board disparagingly. Sure enough, she had pinned and pasted random articles and pictures of nativities and egg nogs, cookies and carols. Even a tree decorated with lights and gems twinkled mockingly from one of the corners. Just the idea of hauling that shit into the hotel made Angel scoff. “This is the fourth one this month!!” 

“But it’s Sinsmas!” she said, eyes wide as Angel sighed. “We have to have a party for Sinsmas. Think of the bonds of friendship that we could strengthen! Think of the poor sinners without a home ring we could recruit!” 

“Alastor’s planted the idea in her head,” Vaggie grumbled, leaning against the sofa. On second look, the pictures did look strangely macabre - weapons of all kinds, bottles of booze, and even wads of cash in vivid greens and yellows peeked out from under the strings. 

Charlie’s grin barely dimmed under Angel’s disdain. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Charlie asked innocently, wringing her hands.

“Oh, Charlie,” Angel thought to himself, “Everything.”

~+~

“Angel, my dad is drunk and I don’t know what to do!!” Charlie half sobbed, her fingers twisted in Angel’s sweater. 

Figures the King of Hell would be a lightweight. Angel peeked over her head to find the short king himself holding yet another homemade duck, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He cradles it in his palms, examining it from every angle as if it were a priceless work of art and not made of literal trash. 

“I don’t even know how it happened. Vaggie told Husk not to put out any drinks until later.”

Tears finally fell as KeeKee launched herself across the room with a different duck, Lucifer on her heels. 

“Are you sure nobody added any spice to the eggnog?” 

Charlie’s ponytail waved behind her. “Just the normal stuff: cinnamon, ginger, vanilla–”

“And rum?

“No rum! Not even a little!”

Poor Princess still had no idea what degenerates she let live in her place. Pulling her to the massive bowl behind the sofa, he ladled a glass of the creamy liquid and sniffed it. Sure enough, the alcohol burned his nose, and he threw it back with a hiss.

“Someone spiked it.” 

“They didn’t.”

“Would I lie to you? I mean about something as hilarious as this?”

“Ohhhh, I’m so peeved !” Charlie huffed, “Husk was in charge of that!!” she added, crossing her arms as she glanced over to the bar. 

Husk leaned against the back bar, wings folded and tail wound around his ankles so his tail feathers didn’t drag in the sticky mess that Niffty was too sober to mop up yet. Well, she would have a good time later. 

“I’ll talk to him, dollface, don’t worry.” 

Husk looked up as Angel strode over to the bar, innocent as you please. Tossing the rag in his hand, he pulled down a fresh bottle of Beelzejuice as if predicting Angel’s request. 

“You have anything to do with the eggnog situation?” Angel asked, sliding onto his usual bar stool. Husk watched him from over his shoulder, straight liqour streaming into the glass. Not a drop spilled, and he didn’t even have to look. 

He shrugged, knocking it back before putting it back down onto the bartop with a solid “clack” . 

“Not directly, no.”

Angel scoffed, “What’s that supposed’ta mean?” 

“I promised Charlie that I would make sure everyone has a good time, and if Niffty just so happened to grab the bottle that was totally meant to go into the recycling and pour it into the punch bowl, it wouldn't be my mistake.” 

“You dog!” Angel snorted, shaking his head. Husk smirked as he poured another shot. “You did that on purpose!” 

“You want a drink, Legs?”

Suddenly, Lucifer shouted, his words slurred as he jabbed Alastor in the chest, making Alastor slap his hand away. Even with Charlie next to them, they couldn’t stop their mutual urge to poke every button. Curse her bleeding heart, the Princess could only do so much before she had to physically lead her dad away. He gesticulated wildly, almost hitting her in the face, and then he was gone.

“Bet you he’s back in less than a minute, still pissed.”

“Princess said I’m not allowed to make real bets.”

“Part’a the “redemption process”? ” Angel asked, his voice pitching up to poorly match Charlie’s voice. 

“Apparently.” Husk shrugged, already pulling down random bottles for another drink. Angel kept his eyes on the entry, and laughed when Lucifer yanked Charlie back into the room by her elbow. The two appeared to be locked in a heated discussion, which Alastor ignored completely except for the tiny antlered nubs that began to sprout from his head. Niffty took the opportunity to hang more tinsel from them before leaping onto the banister and scrubbing at it with abandon.

Must be a serious topic if Alastor was losing his cool, even tipsy. If Angel were being honest, he’d never seen Alastor tipsy, but he liked it.

“Creepy Pants is about ready to shank the short king,” Angel offered with a snort, crossing his upper set of arms as the lower sat on the bartop.

Unable to resist, husk shot back, “More like pull out the creepy voice and eyes.”

“What do I win if you lose?”

Husk tapped his nails against the wooden counter, “I’ll watch your porkchop for a week. If I win, you don’t use any innuendos in public spaces for a week.” 

“Now I can’t lose.” 

“Guess not.” 

They watched Alastor and Lucifer continually get louder and louder, and just as it seemed that Angel would win, Charlie stepped in the middle of the two, saying something about how they shouldn’t fight because “the spirit of Sinsmas!” which made Angel gag and also question her judgement. Getting in petty fights was definitely in the spirit of the holiday.

“I think we’re both losers on this one, Baby. I’ll watch the pig on Monday.” Husk huffed, shaking his head as Vaggie escorted Lucifer to the elevator and Charlie offered Alastor his choice of records.

Bored now without the drama, Angel let himself follow the series of mixers that Husk poured as easily as breathing. The more Angel watched him, the more he realized that whatever was in that glass was not his usual. Sex on the Beach didn’t go in a rocks glass. So either Angel was crazy and was forgetting what a highball glass looked like or Husk was losing his mojo. 

“What’re you makin’ me?” Angel asked, tilting his head as Husk poured the lemon juice into his shaker. 

“Somethin’ new I thought up.” Husk said flatly, lifting a bottle of vodka to pour into the shaker. Angel watched as he looked up, no doubt staring at the drink card that he’d propped up. “You’re the first person I’m makin’ this for.” 

“ Ooo , I’m special!” Angel giggled, “Is it really new or is this something you just wanna see me gag on?” 

“Ew.” Husk scowled, his ears flat against his head as he glared at Angel. He cackled loudly, patting Husk’s shoulder. 

“I’m just teasing ya, Husky. I trust ya.” 

“I’m not speaking to you.” Husk grumbled, lifting the shaker. Angel grumbled, watching Husk pour the shaker into Angel’s glass. “Give it a try.” 

The moment the drink touched his lips, his eyes watered at the sour bite and he made a disgusted noise. The familiar burn of vodka seemed heightened with the spices mixed in, despite the mild cream underneath.

“Damn, Husk, that’s strong.” Angel coughed, still squeezing his eyes shut at the tartness of the lemon juice. And oh fuck him , Husk was laughing at him! A full on belly laugh that had Angel struggling to continue to be (even jokingly) mad at him.

“So you finally learned how to make a real drink?” Angel teased once he could speak normally again, taking another sip out of spite. He wouldn’t be beaten by a fuckin’ drink. 

Husk rolled his eyes. “So you haven’t learned how to be nice to your bartender?”

“Nah, I’m just not nice to you.”

“Charming.” 

“How much lemon did ya have’ta put in here?” 

“Enough to make it look like you’re gonna kiss someone.” 

Angel’s face must’ve been funny enough for Husk to shake his head slowly. “What’cha callin’ this monstrosity?” Angel asked, pushing a cranberry under some ice, watching it try and pop back up to the surface. 

“Mistletoe Kisses, at our host’s request. Is it really that bad?”

“‘s just lemony is all. I like it though!” 

They fell into a peaceful quiet, taking occasional sips of their drinks and playing a few rounds of Black Jack with Husk’s ubiquitous deck. Round after round, Angel forfeited his dignity, and round after round, he asked for a rematch. Husk obliged each time, smirking around the rim of his bottle with each new hand. 

“You’ve got no poker face, kid,” he said.

“You’re cheating.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about.” 

“My pops played enough. You’re countin’ cards!” Angel hissed, tossing his cards down onto the table. 

Husk only shook his head, chuckling as he watched Angel pout at him. “I ain’t countin’ cards, you wanna go all in?” 

“Fuck you, I’m gonna win.”

And then he was over. And Husk cheered. “I won!” Husk purred, and Angel’s mouth dropped open, looking between the cards splayed out in front of them and Husk’s shit eating grin. 

“FUCK!!” 

“Pay up, Angel, those are mine now!” Husk laughed, sliding Angel’s bowl of candies he’d collected into his pile triumphantly. He popped one into his mouth, holding one out for Angel to take. Someone laughed behind them, breaking them out of their little bubble. Charlie had just opened a truly ugly looking sweater, the pattern was gaudy and looked like it would itch the instant you put it on. Like wearing a clothing tag you couldn’t remove.

“Look at those jokers, ripping into boxes like children.” Husk grunted, popping another candy into his mouth, lifting Angel’s empty glass. Angel looked back to him, raising a brow. 

“Everyone likes getting presents. It’s like being a kid again.” he sighed, listening to the sounds of excitement from behind him. Christmas when he was alive was pretty close to this. Loud but always happy. There was never a reason to be sad on Christmas. Even his father had somewhat dropped his walls and had been “nice” to them when they were kids.

“Naive.”

“So you’re telling me if someone dropped a bag or a bottle in your lap, you’d just walk away?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Husk asked, cracking open another bottle. 

Angel made a face, tilting his head in bafflement. “Yes! It’s the opposite of the season.”

“Thought it was the season of giving not receiving.” Husk scolded teasingly, making Angel choke on his words. 

“Now you’re just fuckin’ with me.”

“What I mean is, it’s easier to find the perfect present for someone.”

“Well, what did you get me?”

“Nothin’.”

“Come on! If anyone deserves a present from you, it’s—“

“Niffty. Then Vaggie, then—” 

“URRGH! Fine, see if I got you anything, asshole.” Angel grumbled, both sets of arms crossing over his middle tightly as Husk leaned forward, bracing on his arm. Angel only ignored him, and to think he’d gone out of his way to get Husk that expensive liquor he liked just so random patrons would stop stealing it.

“Angel.”

“What?!”

“It’s not under the tree.”

“Huh?”

“Couldn’t wrap it. It’s not under the tree.”

“Where is it?”

“Behind the bar. Close your eyes.”

“I swear, if you put your dick in a box—” Angel started as he slid off his stool, grinning as Husk grimaced.

“Do you want it or not?”

Angel nodded, letting his eyes slip closed as he leaned against the bar. Suddenly, there was a thumb on his chin, tilting his head down an inch, and a gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek. Warm, wet lips touched his fur for less than a second, and then they were gone with the scent of honey-flavored alcohol and warm fur. 

And before Angel could process, Husk’s hands gripped his upper set of arms, pushing him off his stool and towards the group on the couches.

“Merry Sinsmas, Angel.” Husk said softly, already turning away. It was as if the moment had never existed. Except for the way his ears had flattened against his head, you’d never know they’d ever spoken. Husk continued crafting random themed cocktails in tall glasses, and Angel could do little but shake himself out of his surprise. 

He touched his own cheek where the spot was still cool under his fingers. For once, he didn’t want to wipe it away. 

“Merry Sinsmas,” Angel whispered to himself, hiding a smile behind his hand.