Eat Shit Together - A Huskerdust Fic

1: Rough Night

Angel pounded his drink back, making a face as the liquid burned down his throat. “Careful, you might swallow the glass if you don’t slow down.” Cherri giggled at him from her seat next to his at the bar. He glared at her, signaling the bartender to get him another. “Jeez. Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He sighed, resting his head in his top pair of arms on the bar. When the bartender came back with a full glass for him, he only grabbed it without lifting his head. Instead, he turned it so his cheek squished against his elbow while looking at his friend. “Val’s givin’ me shit for spendin’ all my free time at the hotel.”

The cyclops scrunched her nose, sipping her own drink. “Why?”

Angel shrugged his bottom arms. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe ‘cause I ain’t doin’ no more’a his drugs. Maybe he thinks I won’t depend on him no more if I get clean.." He speculated.

Cherri snorted, downing a shot that a stranger had offered her. "What is he, your insecure girlfriend? He still owns your soul whether you're coked up or not."

Angel's heart sank a little bit more when she said that. She was right. He'd signed his soul away to that asshole for fame and luxury. If he could go back to that moment, he'd snap the quill and kick Valentino in the taint.

He sat up, sipping his drink while looking around. When he called Cherri after his last shoot and asked her to take him out to forget the day, he hadn't really cared where they'd end up. Now, he found himself at a raunchy strip club called The Incubus. It was dimly lit with a few different areas, all with half naked women dangling from poles. There was a main stage, where shady men gathered around to watch whichever girl has been announced, throwing ones and the occasional fiver to her from the floor. To the right of the main stage were booths in half-circle shapes - some with tables, some with tiny stages where groups could pay one of the girls offstage for a more private and detailed show. To the left was a wall with private rooms washrooms on the other side, most of which occupied. Finally, there was the bar. Right across from the main stage and right next to the entrance, Angel and Cherri had a full view of every girl that went up.

Angel loved his friend to death, he really did, but everything she was doing tonight was stressing him out more. He downed his drink and turned to Cherri to ask to leave, finding her tongue-deep in the mouth of the man who bought her the shot earlier. When they break away, she wipes the spit from her face and gives Angel a pleading look. "You'll be okay if we get a room, right?"

He plastered on a fake smile, nodding. "Yeah, go ahead, doll..." He looked up to find her already halfway across the room hand in hand with her stranger, throwing a half-hearted wave over her shoulder. "...face. Great." He turned back to his empty glass, tracing the rim. "At least whiskey can't leave me..." He muttered, immediately vomiting all over what used to be Cherri's barstool. "Goddamnit!" He huffed, wiping his chin. He'll have to shower now to get the stain out of his fur.

Angel scowled, beckoning the barkeep over and pointing to his empty glass. "Gimme the same. Gotta earn it back." He slid it across the bar, the tall, lanky demon at the other end catching it effortlessly and begging to clean it.

"No can do." He shook his head.

"Why not?!" Angel didn't like being told no, especially not when he was drinking to forget.

"Not gonna over serve ya." The gruff demon grunted, wiping down the counter where Angel had just been sick.

"Do you know who I am?!" Angel shouted, grabbing the collar of the unphased worker. "I'm Angel Dust, motherfucker! Every girl here wishes she was me and every guy wishes he was with me! Gimme a damn whiskey!" With one of his free hands, he poked a gloved finger into the man's chest.

"Look, you can be whoever you want. You could be God for all I care, but I ain't givin' you nothin' else after I just cleaned your vomit off my bar!" The man let himself out of Angel's weak grasp, grumbling as he went to go help the girls at the other end of the bar calling for him.

Angel glowered at the bartender, dropping a forty on the bar next to his forgotten glass, stumbling less-than-gracefully out the door. "Shit.. where's the hotel?" He asked himself, looking down both sides of the street for any kind of clue as to where it might be. Without any luck, he picked a direction and started walking.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself completely and utterly lost. He knew he was somewhere downtown, but the world was spinning and all the lights were brighter than usual. He slumped down against a building, wishing he was back at the hotel with Fat Nuggets and a big, greasy burger in his bed. Then, the hottest man he has ever seen walked by. "Hey, handsome~" He giggled, biting his lip and waving sexily.

The man quirked an eyebrow at him, stopping in his tracks for just a moment before doubling his pace from before without looking back. Angel frowned. He couldn't keep anything. First Cherri, then his dinner, then his dignity, then-- wait. He'd lost his dinner.

Quickly, Angel whipped out his Hellphone to look at himself in the camera. He had dried vomit caked in his chest and lower lip hair as well as all over his shirt - just as he'd suspected. His good night was probably the worst night he'd had in a while. How was he going to get home? He looked like an absolute mess, so he couldn't even seduce someone into taking him there and to his bed.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing in his hands. He jumped, gripping it tightly in all four of his hands. After his confusion cleared, he saw Charlie's name at the top of the screen. He panicked. What would she say if she knew he'd been drinking like this? Would she kick him out? He couldn't go back to living with Val. But.. he did need to get home...

"Ya got Angel Dust, I charge a hundred an hour." He answered, automatically saying what Val makes him tell everyone who calls in case it's for business.

"Oh, thank Satan you're not dead!" Charlie squealed over the phone, shouting the news to whoever must've been in the room with her. "Where are you?"

"Uhhhh..." Angel drawled, looking for a street sign. "Downtown?"

There was quiet mumbling on the other end before Vaggie's voice filled his ears. "The street, dumbass!"

"Vaggie!" Charlie scolded softly, assumingly stealing her phone back.

"I don't know the street. Look..." Angel sighed. Might as well get it out of the way now. "I'm wasted and I dunno where I am. I was at The Incubus and then I wandered around for a while and now I'm on the ground near some fuckin' theater or somethin'."

There's more inaudible muttering over the phone and then Charlie comes back. "Okay, Husk says he knows where you are. Just stay put, he's coming to get you--"

"No I ain't!" A faint, deep voice shouts.

"Don't move, and don't talk to strangers. Love you, see you soon!" Charlie yelled into the phone before disconnecting the call.

And then he was alone again. Well, someone's coming do get him. Maybe. He slid his Hellphone back into his pocket and curled his knees to his chest, eyes immediately heavy.

...

His body was kicked, and suddenly Angel was wide awake. He was breathing heavily, scared Val might have found him. He looked up, terrified, but his heart rate immediately slowed when he saw the not-so-friendly bartender he'd come to recognize. "Hiiiii." He slurred, reaching up and making grabby hands at him.

Husk looked absolutely unimpressed. He grabbed two of Angel's hands, attempting to pull him up off the ground. When he got a few inches of the ground but fell immediately back on his ass, Husk grumbled and picked the spider demon up by his waist, slinging him over his shoulder.

Angel let out a squeak, eyes wide in surprise at the small bartender's strength. "Put me downnnn." He whined, pounding weakly on Husk's back.

"No." The cat snapped. "You can't walk and I ain't gonna waste anymore time than I have to fighting you to walk."

Angel was about to fight back when the movement of Husk's steps lulled his body back into sleep.