Chapter Text
The music in the lounge was gentle and soft, lulling the space between Vox and Alastor into something smooth and easy. There was a sense of tenseness across their personal frequency, but it was slowly melting away into something familiar and pleasant the longer they sat at their table, chatting happily over their appetizers. This wasn’t really that new, Vox knew, they went out for lunches and dinners plenty often, and they’d definitely been to this spot a few times. He had taken an extra step to order things he knew Alastor liked from the menu, and it hadn’t been an issue at all. Alastor had smiled at him, chuckled a little when he floundered to say that he would stop if it was weird, but he said he didn’t mind, he wasn’t wrong.
It was nice, all of it was, but Vox was here for a little bit more of a reason than just to have dinner. It was the height of their relationship, he felt. They’d been living together for decades already, but they were so much closer than ever, spent nearly every moment they could together. There was hardly a person in Hell that wasn’t aware that if you messed with one, you would face the other with no hesitation. Vox … was also head over heels for Alastor, and had been for some time. He had been so hesitant to express it to him, but he thought that close to fifteen years of keeping quiet was long enough to have decided that it was definitely real and not at all something that would fade with time. So he figured, he could take Alastor out, sort of like normal, take some initiative in the whole thing, try to woo him a little – something he knew he was theoretically good at, but had never tried on Alastor – and hopefully broach the subject of changing the status of their relationship.
“- alright?” Alastor’s voice cut through his thoughts, which he was carefully monitoring so as not to project them across the frequency between them, unspoken words that he did not want coming across uncontrolled.
“Oh, what? Sorry,” Vox replied quickly, finding himself somewhat embarrassed, a hint of hue change on his screen, he knew. Across the table, Alastor’s ears dropped just slightly - it was almost imperceptible, but Vox was well attuned to these small movements by now. It wasn’t as though he needed more than the thirty years he’d had to figure them out. His expression was easier typically to read, an eyebrow raised in questioning concern.
“I asked if you were doing alright. You look a little lost, friend,” Alastor said, though patient at needing to repeat himself. It had become more common recently, Vox knew, for him to get a little caught up in his own thoughts or just to blatantly stare at Alastor and get a little … lost, as Alastor put it. It was a kind way to describe it, considering it was often just Vox staring at him longingly, with a dumb, lovestruck look on his face. He admittedly wasn’t sure if it was Alastor just being sweet about it, or if he actually didn’t notice beyond the fact that when it happened, Vox was often tuned out of the conversation.
“I’m okay! Sorry, just thinking, that’s all.”
“Oh? You aren’t sharing much today,” Alastor quipped with a little smile and a laugh. Even now, they weren’t actually speaking aloud, despite being in public. Rather, it was especially since they were in public. Nearly all of their communication involved them speaking silently, through their shared radio frequency that was uninterrupted and unmonitored by any unwanted ears. Vox had recently learned how to put a death grip on specific thoughts, to prevent them spilling over while conversing. It was easier that way. And certainly safer for their friendship.
“I know,” Vox said, evading the question just a tad. “Just a lot of nonsense, that's all, I promise.” Alastor seemed amused by the idea, leaning his chin against his interlaced fingers.
“Well, that hasn’t stopped you before.”
“Well- hey!”
The deer demon laughed again, the sound softer and gentler when they were together like this, quiet in the fray of the frequency. It always had a different sort of quality when he laughed aloud, more abrasive and usually for a different reason. But between the two of them, it was like hearing the ocean rolling up against the shore, soothing and sweet. Homely. He just wished he could play it on repeat sometimes, bury himself in the sound.
Before their conversation could go too much further, their entrees were placed before them, and Vox could see Alastor’s eyes light up a bit as he was quick to dig in. Vox allowed the topic and talk to die down while they both ate, though Vox’s enthusiasm was less than his friend’s. Nothing at all to do with the meal and much more the nervousness running through his system. Electrical little surges that made his fingers twitch. It was a real problem that some of his emotions ended up manifesting so physically these days. Once more his eyes settled on Alastor and he found himself lost in watching him, seeing him enjoy his meal and appear just … generally happy in the moment. Vox felt like he’d spent years memorizing every facial expression Alastor could make, tracing the lines of his face and committing every little quip and compliment to memory. What else could he do in times like these? Alastor was … still hard to read, though. They were both clearly happy with the current state of things, no issues to be found for the last fifteen years, certainly. But he had no way to tell if Alastor would ever want more than that from him. Maybe he wouldn’t, but if he brought it up, would it destroy things? Would they be able to go back to normal after that? And would he be able to stay okay with things as they were?
“You’re doing it again, Vox.” He jumped slightly, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What’s on your mind? It’s not very like you to keep so quiet.” Maybe Vox should have found some offense, but he knew that he was a rambler at heart, and he did imagine it was coming to be a surprise that he was clamming up so much. He was usually also just as easy to convince to open up, and his resistance was probably giving something more away than he wanted.
“I’ve just been thinking about … us?” It was almost a question, a hesitating, curious question of how that sort of response would even be taken. But very little changed in Alastor’s expression, although he was sitting back in his chair and watching him, clearly ready to listen.
“In what way?”
“Sort of in general, I guess. We’re pretty close these days, and spend a lot of time together,” Vox said. “It’s been really nice, you know. So I guess I’ve just been reflecting on it a little.”
“Yet that seems to be something you don’t want to share.”
It wasn’t an accusation, but it felt like one anyway. He didn’t know what to say, at first. Maybe if he changed the subject, he would figure it out later. But no, it was a pointless thing to do, to dance around this all so much. He would do it a little regardless, it was just how he talked, something Alastor teased him somewhat for, never able to really get to the point without thirty minutes of preface.
It was what he knew.
“I just think it might be annoying, if you listen and all you hear is me thinking of you,” Vox responded finally with a laugh. He felt embarrassed and unsure, and he rubbed at his screen briefly as though he could scrub away the feelings. It didn’t have to be this hard, he knew that, but what was he going to do if he said no, and if he took offense?
“Nothing you go on about has annoyed me before, why would it be different now?” Alastor replied, punctuating the thought by taking a last bite of his meal. He offered a smile, too, and while it could have eased Vox’s mind, he found himself that much more anxious.
“I don’t know.”
It was the best he had to offer, though it wasn’t much. He really didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it all, or why he worried so much. Realistically, Alastor was right. There were many things he went on about that were much less serious and often quite silly, but through it all, Alastor always sat and listened thoughtfully. Even if he might have teased, he never held it against him. Couldn’t he trust it just like that? He knew the answer was yes, but it wasn’t about trust. It was about any possibility of losing the demon sitting before him.
“You like what we are, don’t you?” Vox heard himself say directly, and he immediately wished he could snatch the words back, pretend they hadn’t come from him. That definitely wasn’t how it worked, but what he would have done for it …
“Of course. I’ve always thoroughly enjoyed your company, Vox.” Alastor’s reply was so quick, smooth, and lacked any sort of reproach. It had the potentially unintentional effect of melting his heart and easing him a little, putting a little goofy smile on his screen that he couldn’t hide.
“Alastor, you know I would do anything for you, right?” It was a little bit of a silly admitting question, more serving the purpose of pointing it out in case he didn’t know it, for some reason. Not that it hadn’t become blatantly obvious over the last few decades, he was sure.
“Well, I’m sure there are some limits, but yes,” Alastor replied, though Vox shook his head slightly. He wouldn’t argue, but he knew well indeed that there were no limits. Not exactly the … healthiest thing, but he meant it. “Is this you trying to ask a favor, Vox? You know you can just say it and it’ll be done.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.”
“Well, if it were , I would be happy to help you with whatever is going on in that cubed head of yours.” Vox smiled in response, chuckling at the little comment, but still trying to gather his own thoughts. Alastor gave him time now, it seemed, and finally, he was able to say something more … relevant to what he wanted.
“What do you think about dating?” Vox finally said, making a little leap. Even just a generic idea about it could be helpful, it wasn’t exactly a topic they ever spoke on.
“Oh, I don’t.”
“Oh.”
Well. That wasn’t particularly helpful, was it? Not altogether surprising, though, which made the nervousness return to Vox’s mind as he cast his eyes away from his friend quickly, as though searching the room for the right words.
“Has there ever been some sort of consideration?” he said after a moment.
“Hm … I suppose I don't really need to anymore. What about you…?” Alastor seemed more confused about his line of questioning than anything else, and Vox found himself panicking a little bit.
“Well, yes, I have a tendency to, myself. Not that much though! Haha. It’s just one of those things that pops into my head, you know, without a reason.” Idiot. Word salad at its absolute finest, certainly. At best, it seemed to make Alastor laugh a little, though he didn’t offer much else, the line going a little quiet once more, the music and other patrons keeping pure silence from forming, thankfully. They finished their main course and everything was whisked away, Vox telling the waiter they’d like some time before getting the bill, which they graciously acknowledged. Vox took a sip of the wine he’d sent ahead, a pinot noir that he’d found Alastor liked a few years ago. Alastor was not much of a wine drinker, but this one he knew he liked. They spent a few minutes in the quiet of the lounge, enjoying themselves individually, but Vox knowing his mind was elsewhere still, just as restless as ever. He was trying to figure out how to phrase his next words, but he had lost his grip on his thoughts and one slipped through unbidden.
“Do you think you’d like to be closer to me?”
The moment the words passed through the frequency, he clammed up, tense and worried, though Alastor didn’t seem bothered by the question. In fact, he appeared to consider the question for a long moment, before finally answering with a question of his own.
“Is there some way we could be? I don’t think it’s even possible at this point.”
Air escaped Vox for a long time. He knew he was staring, he knew he was sort of … losing himself in his thoughts, in a whirlwind of wordless emotion that he knew was ringing true through the frequency. Fear and worry and hope and everything that could be in between. It was overwhelming, and he could tell it was even a little much for Alastor, whose ears seemed to drop back a little. If he said anything, Vox couldn’t hear it. His internal mechanisms were starting to make noise, noises he hadn’t heard before, and he realized it was a bad thing when the color blinked out of his vision.
“Uh oh.”
It spiraled out of control much faster than Vox could keep up with. Electrical currents shot through his body, from his head to his toes, and the glass in his hand was shattered between his convulsing fingers. His vision was blinking in and out, and he felt like he was watching each moment frame by frame, rather than live. Alastor was standing suddenly, and then the scene blinked, and it was clear he had fallen from his chair. In the next frame, Alastor had moved to hover over him, and he could tell he was asking him something, trying to talk both aloud and between them silently, but the static and buzzing was so loud that he couldn’t hear. And then his vision went completely dark, and all he could hear was the faint buzzing of himself.
Vox didn’t know how long had passed, but when his vision returned, and his audio just as slowly, he was back at home. The little place they lived together in, half built into the bottom half of the radio tower that Alastor worked out of. It was a pretty normal little hovel, a simple living room, a single bathroom, nice kitchen, two bedrooms, and … well. Half a marsh for the Radio Demon, of course. But for now, Vox was resting on the couch, it seemed. He still couldn’t see in color, couldn’t hear everything, but he was awake and aware again. He cast his gaze around the room, and as he did, Alastor came through the doorway towards the kitchen. Vox was almost tempted to try to pretend he wasn’t back yet, but the light of his display would always give him away, so there was little point to it. Alastor was bringing in a small tray, setting it down, and leaning in close to his face, peering closely at his display and screen, before offering him a small, strained smile.
“There you are. You took your time coming back around,” Alastor said simply, leaning back a little now, and Vox offered him a small smile of his own. His head was blissfully quiet now, except for Alastor’s voice, and he tried to respond. It took him several minutes before he was really able to gather enough thoughts to do so, but Alastor sat there with him patiently, helping him to sit up when he tried.
“I’m not very sure what happened. And I still can’t really see properly,” he admitted. “I think something … broke?”
“It sure seemed like it. Started smoking a little, and you were … unresponsive for the walk here. You’ve been out for a few hours now.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know, I just … I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.” A little laugh escaped him. “I’ve never … I didn’t think I could break internally?”
“What exactly happened?”
Vox hesitated to answer, but decided in the end, it couldn’t hurt.
“I got a little … emotionally overwhelmed, I guess. I was thinking way too many things all at once, feeling a lot all at once. Just … fried some things.” A twinge of electricity shot through him, making him shudder. Alastor seemed concerned by this, reaching out to steady Vox again. Once he was fine, Alastor’s hand moved from his shoulder to the side of face, the frame of his display, and there was a moment of flashing and stuttering on his screen. It was a terrible feeling, and Vox tried to pull away from Alastor, but he seemed intent on holding him there. Alastor turned Vox’s head, and he felt his fingers prying open the back to release the smoke building there.
“You’re overheating… is there something to fix that?” Alastor asked.
“Oh, uh. I think so, I just need … I’ll have to order a part or two, I think. I usually only do that for upgrading, but it’s probably a good plan.”
“Right. Whatever you need, you just say it.”
“Just … yeah, just the parts. Thanks.”
“Of course, what else are friends for?”
Right. Friends. That was all they were, and all that Alastor wanted from him, could imagine wanting from him, right? That could be fine. It had to be fine. He loved him so much, but it was okay. Alastor cared about him, he knew that, that was fine. This was fine.
He could love him with his whole soul, and he would be fine to have him as his friend.
“You’re a great friend,” Vox said sincerely, placing a hand over the one on his frame, leaning into the touch. “Thank you, Alastor.”
“You’re welcome, Vox.”
This would be fine.
It was supposed to be fine.
Why did it feel like heartbreak?