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Husk liked to think he was patient; he wasn't a master at it, but he was patient enough to get through life without having an aneurism.
He thought things through, calculated the risk-to-reward ratio, and has been weighing the options involving what he should do to his boss: should he bite his ear off? Or should he just let him continue nuzzling him while nearly poking his eye out?
Husk was currently on the floor, sprawled out, underneath an "incredibly" intoxicated Radio Demon.
It's been like this for nearly 2 hours, and he was hoping Alastor would've passed out by now, but the bastard showed no sign of drowsiness. Unfortunately, he seemed to be in a constant state of agitation; he kept moving around atop Husk's body as if he was trying to shape him into a more comfortable bed, like he would offer the bastard what he is denied every night.
The start of all this was partly Husk's fault; he and Alastor were out drinking, enjoying the evening, and Husk had the bright idea to be a good old pal and invite his boss into his home to "sample" some booze that didn't taste like watered-down soap.
He just had to be pleasant company and treat his contract holder to a pleasant night out; at least no one was here to see him in this predicament.
He didn't know Alastor was a light-weight; the outspoken prick always drank when he was with company and always indulged. How was he supposed to know that drinking in private would make him push his limits and get completely hammered?
Now he was stuck, a victim of an intrusive, gangly gremlin that was using him as a deer would a tree.
But Husk became concerned when the antler-headed slosher began rubbing a little too close to the belt.
It wasn't easy to get Husk hot and bothered, but he had some self-control, especially around Alastor, the touch-averse lunatic who once freaked out and impaled a store clerk while they were just handing him a receipt. So having the maniac sprawled all over him, touching every inch of his body, made him feel a little bad that his inebriated guest was doing something he would regret for the rest of his damnation.
So, Husk attempted—a second time, mind you—to get out of the deer demon's grasp. He lifted himself off the ground with an arm and started to sit up straight, only to be thrown to the ground and growled at.
Looking at Alastor now, he was in a state he had never seen him in before and believed he never would again should things turn south: his face; nearly as red as the blood he’d have on his teeth, and his usual pristine hair was in complete disarray with his jacket off and the top button of his dress shirt missing.
His eyes were dilated, something he had never seen, and when he gazed into Husk's eyes, they blew wider and his breath quickened.
He then fell atop the feline a third time and began grinding his body against Husk's firm frame, mewling in desperation.
Forgive Husk for being old and naive, but he thought that entire display was what the "calm before the storm" looked like.
In his mind, Alastor was battling his cannibalistic urges and trying his damnedest not to eat Husk on the spot. In his defense, he's heard stories about cannibals getting drunk and eating each other until there wasn't a bone left to be found.
But despite Husk's irrational fear, the grinding happening on top of him did not stop.
Alastors’ hand gripped Husks’ hip, the other grabbing hold of a shoulder; dragging his claws through the fur, labored breath, eyes closed shut, his smile a shadow of its former self. He pressed his chest flat against Husk's body, face engulfed by the fluff that lay there, his legs gently caressing the insides of Husk's thighs, occasionally making contact with his crotch, making Husk go stiff in surprise.
He was losing it; he was on the precipice of committing an act he had never desired in his entire life, let alone his damnation. Breathing in Husk's scent, he could tell what the other was feeling, and knowing this, his eyes started to roll back.
Coming down from his high, he opened his eyes and raised his head, leaning forward to look at Husk's face; however, to his disappointment, Husk forced his eyes shut. Alastor slowly leaned forward and brushed against Husk's ear, nuzzling the side of his face to get his attention.
In the quietest tone he had ever used, he whispered, "Husker?"
…
Husk was waiting for this moment and immediately sprung into action.
Using his wings and back muscles, he lifted himself from the ground and threw Alastor off him in one fell swoop. Once free from his constraints, he sprinted like a man possessed by lightning and ripped open his fridge door and grabbed every ice tray he had, taking aim at the bewildered target and throwing the ice trays, hitting Alastor square in the face.
"Cool off," was the only response Husk could muster up before clawing his way through his house to get to his bathroom, entering it, and slamming the door shut so hard that he cracked the wall around it.
Turning to his salvation, he hopped into the bathtub, turned the handle, and was blessed with freezing cold water.
He was breathing deeply and sporadically, head against the tile, eyes closed in contemplation.
Claws dragging down against the tiles, he formed a fist and punched the wall beside him, growling, "That bastard better be thankful."
Husk knows the regret one feels after a drunken escapade. Having experienced a few firsthand, he knows that the entire scene stopped being annoying and took a turn he wasn’t expecting.
Husk liked to believe he understood his contractor and assumed it was a mistake to end up in that situation, and so he patted himself on the back and took in the freezing remedy with a smile tugging at his face.
He knows his back is going to kill him tomorrow morning for that move he pulled, but at least he kept his boss from doing something he'd regret...
…
Alastor had a different take on everything that transpired.
True, he was a little "tipsy," but only enough to make him feel less sensitive and more confident in his actions; in all honesty, he was sober enough to recognize the gravity of the act he was about to commit and was fully prepared to carry it out; even excited about it.
He should’ve expected such a response; Husk was old-fashioned and probably did not take kindly to such a forward approach to... whatever Alastor approached him with. He would need to do research now because he had gotten a taste of something and wanted more.
However, despite being cockblocked for the first time, he did not feel too disappointed.
He could tell by the way Husk smelled and acted that he had an effect on his "considerate" host.
And the surprising strength he used to throw him up in the air with just his body made him swoon on the floor.
Of course, this allowed the ice he was pelted with to touch the rest of his body, successfully "cooling" him off in the process. Well, now he felt cold and uncomfortable, and not just because of the ice.
He got up, found his jacket, and made his way out of his host’s home.
Looking back before making his exit, he wanted to leave his "noble" companion with a message, to tell him how much he enjoyed their evening together.
Using his claws to write on the kitchen wall where he had last seen his drinking partner, he made his exit. ---
The message on the wall read: You tease~🖤