Chapter Text
“Husker-” Alastor hissed, “-What in Satan’s name are you doing?”
Husk sheepishly retracted the claws he’d unintentionally dug into his boss’s thigh.
He didn’t know how it happened. One minute he was minding his business, absentmindedly cleaning the glasses for tonight’s shift, and the next he was here. Practically kneeling between Alastor’s lap after catapulting himself over the bar.
All he could remember was a flicker of light darting across the counter top, then something inside him snapped.
“I uh-” Husk started, not knowing whether to run or start pleading for his life, “M’sorry I didn’t-”
The fleck of light returned, higher on Alastor’s thigh, and Husk slapped his paw over it instinctively.
The screech of feedback was deafening.
Husk swallowed thickly, waiting for the ground, or one of Al’s portals, to swallow him whole.
Alastor glared down at him, scarlet eyes turning into narrow slits, unintentionally giving Husk the final piece of the puzzle with blinding clarity.
The early evening light was filtering through the hotel windows in concentrated streams, one of which just so happened to be reflecting off the jewel in the center of Alastor’s bowtie. His change of position had the light shining directly in Husk’s eyes, snapping him out of the daze.
“Sorry, Al, fuck sorry-” Husk scrambled, carefully raising his paw to point at the offending item, “It’s that thing, the light. I can’t control it, it’s like my brain just switches off and I-” He shivered when Alastor’s previously clenched hand towards his face, “Please don’t kill me.”
Surprisingly, Husk wasn’t slapped, hit or sliced apart by unreasonably sharp claws. Instead, they curled around one of his ears, ripping a purr from his throat when they scratched at his most sensitive spot.
“Oh, Husker-” Alastor cooed, continuing to pet him as his heart rate increased for entirely different reasons, “-No one understands those pesky animal instincts more than myself, unfortunately.”
Husk’s exaggerated brows raised comically, an all too familiar scent assaulting his senses, “That time of year again?”
“Quite.”
The claws tangled in his fur, dragging him closer as Alastor’s legs parted.
“How fortuitous that your predicament has landed you in a position to help mine.”