Chapter 1: All You Are Are Lies on the Radio
Notes:
Hello all you fine citizens, so this story has been completely overhauled from the time of my initial posting, as the path of the story has changed pretty dramatically from my original idea for this. At this current time, I'm not sure how many chapters exactly this will take to tell this story, but a loose chapter count will be added once I have a better idea of that.
IMPORTANT: In upcoming chapters there will be some pretty graphic depictions of physical and emotional abuse. Any chapter with triggering scenes will be noted in the chapter notes, with notations of where to skip if this is something you would prefer not to read.
Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
Vox was already one drink in when Alastor draped himself gracefully into the seat beside him, ordering his preferred. The whiskey already in his system did little to calm the nerves Vox felt every time they met up for a drink at their usual.
“So,” Vox drew out the vowel, aiming for nonchalance, “Alastor, what have you been up to lately?”
“Well, I just finished cleaning up a bit of a mess. Someone was trying to wrestle their way onto the airwaves and failed spectacularly. It was a rather hilarious clambake, but they won’t be trying anything like that again. I made sure of it.” Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously before his face split into his characteristic grin. “It was a good day.” He hummed, savoring the first sip of whiskey from his glass.
Vox couldn’t help but grin at him. “Sounds like a sight to witness.”
“Perhaps I shall regret asking this, but what of your latest endeavors, Vox?”
“Well, we just launched a new style of phone that is going to revolutionize Inter-Hell communications, but the thing I’m most excited about is that I’ve been experimenting with cybernetic enhancements with the plans of utilizing them for developing animal telepathy.”
“Why on earth would either of those be useful?”
“Technology never rests, my handsome friend, and two, because it would sure be nice to know if my pet sharks are happy or not. What pet owner in Hell wouldn’t want to be able to communicate with their beloved pet? It will be a foolproof success!” Vox couldn’t help the genuine excitement that began to filter into his voice. It was always difficult to maintain his image of detached business professionalism around the Radio Demon.
“I’m not sure I shall ever understand either of your obsessions.” He shook his head at him, good-naturedly.
Undeterred, but entirely willing to blame it on the second drained glass of whiskey, Vox just couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “Sharks are brilliant if you give them a chance. They are excellent problem solvers and you’d be surprised how well they can learn and adapt to new situations and stimuli. I think they’re the perfect candidate for this new technology.”
“You and your blasted fish. Do you ever cease rambling, you noisy picture box?” Alastor sighed, with the slightest hint of a smile, before taking another sip, only about halfway through his glass.
“Don’t touch that dial folks, television is always on the air.” Vox shot back, making Alastor roll his eyes and finish his drink in a single fluid motion.
The bartender refilled their glasses with Alastor barely even needing to summon his attention.
“You are insufferable some days.” He huffed, sliding him his next drink and deftly taking his own into his fine-boned claws.
Alastor studied his glass a moment, before effortlessly redirecting the conversation, “In other more delectable gossip, I saw there was some fresh meat in attendance at the last meeting.” He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth in that mildly threatening way he so often did. Vox wondered if he had any idea how attractive it was.
Vox’s grin grew to mirror Alastor’s. Catching up on Hell’s latest whisperings was one of their favorite pastimes when they would gather here. “I noticed that. Gotta wonder why he hasn’t shown his face around here prior to this.”
“Hard to say, my friend, but he certainly looked like the sort that would be a tasty snack.” Alastor gestured offhandedly.
Vox gave him an odd sort of look before the grin spread across his face once more. They could certainly agree on that and he said as much.
“You know, sinking my teeth into the thigh has always been my favorite part of a human. I like to savor that bit last. Though I wonder how moth affects the taste?”
“I bet I could make him let me find out and see if I can make those wings flap.”
Alastor turned to him, his eyebrow arching impossibly higher.
A dawning awareness entered Vox’s eyes, as he spoke slowly, fighting down his embarrassment, “…You and I are having entirely different conversations aren’t we?”
“Hmmm. On the nose.” Alastor smirked, making a gesture like he was about to tap the center of his screen, effectively derailing Vox’s thoughts entirely.
“So… should I be worried?” Vox ventured, mostly confident that they were back to joking around now.
“Don’t worry, my dear, television tastes terrible.” Alastor grinned, raising his glass at him slightly, before taking another sip.
Vox spent the next few minutes staring into his drink, thoroughly flummoxed, while Alastor sat there humming along to the band and watching the dancefloor, satisfied as anything.
They sat like that for a long moment, before Alastor turned back towards the bar and glanced in his direction.
Vox tore his eyes away from his drink to meet his gaze and an unbidden mischief entered Alastor’s eyes. In an instant, before he could even ask, the bastard threw the entirety of his water glass at his screen and began to laugh hysterically.
Vox was wildly caught off guard, yet somehow not shocked by his actions. “Ha! Bitch, I’m waterproof now!”
Alastor hummed disappointedly, turning back to his whiskey. “Drat. Well, that just takes the fun out of it.”
“You could have short-circuited me, you know?” Vox huffed at him in mock annoyance, attempting to blot the moisture off his face with his microfibre handkerchief.
“That was much the point. You talk far too much, television man.”
Inwardly, he sighed, utterly charmed. He knew the affection bubbling in his chest was not just from the whiskey.
I think I love this man.
His eyes widened at that startling thought.
Shit .
“Velvette, I’ve got a problem.” Vox barged into her office dramatically, not bothering to knock.
She scoffed, setting aside her sketchbook. “What else is new, Voxxy? Who’s husband did you fuck this time?”
“Wha— no, Velvette, that was one time !” He threw his arms up, collapsing onto her pristine pink couch— that he was convinced she didn’t tolerate anyone but him to ever dare sit on. “And it was hardly my fault that hottie married the most boring accountant ever,” he muttered. “But this is so much worse.” He groaned.
“Well out with it then.” She flicked an eraser at him, chuckling when he squawked in protest.
He could already feel the rise of panic welling up again at having to admit it out loud. “Vel, I think I love him!”
“Vox babe, I need you to be a little more specific here. The engineer?”
“No; fucking Alastor!” He lamented.
“Fucking what now? The Radio Demon? Oh this is the best drama I’ve had all week! You’re playing me though, right babe? Don’t tell me you’re serious right now?”
Vox wished the tiled floor of her office would open up and save him from the look she was throwing at him over her desk.
“I’m— I think I am. Is— is that stupid?” He sighed, slumping further into the couch. He was such a tangled ball of emotions, he didn’t even know what he was feeling right now.
“Voxxy, have you gone mental ? Of course it is! You’re an Overlord and we’re in Hell .”
“Vel, you’re not helping.” He could only groan, burying his screen in his hands, fingerprints be damned.
“Fuck if I’m not!” Velvette rounded the desk, getting right up in his space. “Look at me, idiot.” She drew his eyes up to meet hers. “I’m playin’ the best friend card here. Don’t. Be. Stupid. Vox.”
And even through his mortification, he couldn’t hold back the warm affection surging through his chest. Loyal friends like her were rare to find, and even scarcer in this place.
“Besides,” She flounced down next to him, “Why’s he suddenly got you all up in a snit anyway?”
Well, one could only get so wet. Ha!
Vox shook his head and sighed fondly, “He threw a glass of water on me.”
Velvette barked a laugh at that. “Okay, now that’s fucking funny, I’ll given him that. But that’s it ? The old timey prick tries to electrocute you and you suddenly want to marry ‘im?”
“Well no— uh— I don’t know… I think it just made me realize it, is all. I think I’ve been falling for him for a while. Fuck, Vel, I’ve never met a guy like him. He’s ruthless, but funny, and he’s so intelligent, I—”
“ —Eurgh, save it for the wedding, babe. Tha’s sickening.” She affectionately jabbed him in the side.
Vox looked down at her, his tone holding nothing but earnesty, “I really want to take him out, on a proper date though, Vel. Tell him how I feel.”
“Vox, don’t tell him! That’s a terrible idea!” She waved her hand in frustration, before her tone softened into absolute seriousness. “As much as I love seein’ absolute morons get their hearts ripped out for being fuckin’ stupid, I don’t wanna to sit by and watch my favorite moron get chewed up and spat back out by one of the most heartless social climbers this side of the pentagram. I mean it, Vox.” She warned.
“I’ve gotta know though, Vel. What if it works out?” His answer came out softly, clinging to that faint glow of optimism he could feel in his chest.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, kicking her feet into his lap. “Your funeral, fuck head. I’ll still love ya, but don’t say I didn’t warn you… Radio Boy likes roses, by the way.”
Fuck, he was nervous.
It was just a casual drink together, they’ve done this dozens of times. They were friends. It would be fine. But he was finally going to tell him the truth, lay it all out there. He didn’t seem to hate his company so maybe it would go okay. Maybe there was a small chance he felt similarly.
Or maybe this was a horrible idea. It was probably a horrible idea, like Velvette said, but he’d never met a man anything like the Radio Demon and he could never live with himself if he didn’t try. There was never anyone’s attention he had ever wanted more.
He could do this.
He had opted for one of the tucked away booths this evening, instead of their usual place at the bar and Alastor raised an eyebrow at this as he made his way over, drink in hand.
“This is different.” He said simply, neatly settling in across from him. Did it seem like he was acting strangely?
“Hi Alastor, how- how are you?” Vox tried to steady his hand casually against the table edge.
Alastor hummed pensively, “It’s been a rather unexciting week, I’m afraid. I’m starved for entertainment.”
“What, you couldn’t find a bone to pick with someone?” Vox smirked over the top of his glass.
Alastor chuckled softly at that and Vox could hardly contain the happiness buoying up in his chest at the sound. He wanted to keep that joy on his face.
Well here goes nothing.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Liar. “I— I got you something. I hope you like them.” Vox bashfully pulled the bouquet from beside him in the booth and held them out to Alastor. “A little rumor told me these were your favorite.”
Alastor raised a bemused eyebrow at the gesture before setting the proffered roses on the table between them. “Oh. Well, isn’t that nice.”
Vox wilted at his clear dismissal.
Shit.
Alastor took up his glass again with an indifferent chuckle. “Aside from apparently taking up an interest in gardening, how have you been?”
“I– uh. I’ve been okay.” Vox was desperately trying to hide the way his stomach plummeted. It had been quite a challenge to find roses in Hell.
“That may be the shortest sentence I’ve ever heard you say.” Alastor hummed in amusement.
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a slow news day, I guess.” Vox smiled with false cheer. You could still back out.
“Vox dear, you are acting stranger than usual.” The warring thoughts must have shown through on his screen and Alastor’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. “What is it you want from me?”
Vox sighed, a whisper of defeat slipping into his voice. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted from you was for you to notice me.”
Alastor regarded him strangely at that. “I’m literally right here and you sound ridiculous, you silly picture box.”
Vox met his eyes in earnesty, “Why do you do that? Insult people to keep everyone at arm's length?”
Alastor derisively chuckled, making a demonstrative gesture at the other occupants of the bar, “This is Hell. To do anything else would be utter idiocy, my friend. What the devil has gotten into you this evening? Are you concussed?”
“Would it truly be so terrible to let someone in?” Vox implored softly.
Alastor sighed heavily as understanding crept across his features, “Don’t be stupid now, Vox.” He shook his head before taking a long sip of his whiskey.
Vox was determined to not leave the words in his chest unsaid, “I’m serious. Because, for the first time in either of my lives, I want to let someone in. I want someone to know the real person behind the screen. To know all of me. Please give me a chance to show you that for once there’s no mixed signals. Alastor, I–” Alastor silenced him with a finger hovering just over his screen. Not touching, never touching.
“Do not finish that sentence, my friend.” There was a dangerous edge of warning in his tone.
“Bu–”
“People like us cannot afford risking such sentimentalities.”
“It’s true even if you won’t let me say it.”
“Vox, you are a fool.” He shook his head disparagingly.
Vox pressed on, sincerity blatant in his words now. He’d already come this far. “Aren’t all good things worth a little risk? Come on Alastor, when was the last time you genuinely smiled?”
Alastor’s face remained stoic at his words. When he spoke next, it was haughty and unmoved. “I’m always smiling. Remember my friend, appearance is everything in this world.”
With that, he finished his drink.
Devastation entered Vox’s eyes. "You— really don’t believe me, do you?"
"Why should I?" Alastor laughed as he stood. “I believe you may have deluded yourself into some contrived version of us. But that is not what’s happening here, and I think you know that, don’t you?”
Vox hastily stood as well, overcome by the panic of Alastor leaving. He could feel his emotions beginning to well in his throat. "You, you don’t get to decide that for me. I— I know how I feel."
“Flattering, my dear Idiot Box, but I fear your feelings are misplaced. Love and love of power are not synonymous.” He leaned on his cane, dismissive as anything. “Though I must say, while this evening has done wonders for my boredom, I’m afraid I must dash now.” And with that he turned on his heel, walking away with a little shameless wave. The flowers pointedly forgotten on the table.
Vox stood there in stunned horror, feeling rooted to the spot, as he fought to blink back the burning in his eyes.
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so cold, he hazily wondered, collapsing on his sofa. His limbs felt numb and leaden, but the lack of sensation did little to distract him from the gouged out ache spreading through his chest. The horrified devastation crested over him again as he curled up, fully sobbing now. Shaking miserably, he pulled his favorite patterned blanket around himself, though the endearing little sharks brought him no comfort.
You’re so fucking stupid. What did you expect to happen? A demon like him to take you into his arms and kiss you senseless?
A man like that could never want a man like you.
That suffocating tightness in his chest turned searingly more vicious, clawing up his throat until spots began to dance across his screen. The twisting agony of emotion in his chest felt like the ground was caving in around him and he couldn’t breathe for the shape of it.
He’s so far out of your league, why would he ever want you?
Stop reaching for things you incurably can never have.
Every time he tried to force his emotions down, tried to pull himself back together, that gaping hole only lacerated further. He fought for breath around the pain, but the hissing static surging around him left him doubled over, desperate to scream— but the only sound that escaped into the darkness was a strangled whimper.
The loneliness that settled over him then felt impossible.
In that moment, as he laid there feeling irreparably broken, with his dismissive mocking laughter reverberating through his mind, he had no idea that would be the last time he would see the Radio Demon.
Chapter 2: Crossed Wires, Cross My Heart
Notes:
Brief Reference to Physical Abuse:
Towards the end of the chapter. Should you prefer to read past it; it starts after "He should have fucking listened to her." and ends before, “But Velv, I am that stupid.”
Chapter Text
“Pink or red?” Velvette held up two nail polish bottles for his consideration as he settled beside her on her sofa.
“Pink. Obviously.” Vox grinned at her with a levity he didn’t feel. He couldn’t shake the hollowness that had taken up residence behind his ribs.
She let out a little hum of agreement, and Vox turned his attention to stirring his coffee, his thoughts quickly turning pensive.
“That’s the fifth time you’ve sighed this afternoon. Spill, now.”
He hadn’t even realized he had, he thought, slumping his shoulders.
“It’s stupid.” He tried to play it off.
“So are you, but I keep you around anyway. Stop stalling.” She snapped, not unkindly.
“Vel, I’m so tired of being alone.” He sighed, conscious of it this time. “I just want someone. Someone to even pretend to care about me.” Vox dropped his head into his hands miserably.
“What the fuck am I then, fuck head?” Velvette nudged him with her foot, as she replaced the brush back into the polish bottle.
“Vel, you know what I mean.” He glanced over at her, exhaustion making him feel so much older.
“Vox, do you even hear yourself? Babe, we’re in Hell . It’s not exactly a prime market for meaningful relationships.” He turned to her, drawn in by the uncharacteristic seriousness on her face. “—Don’t look at me like that.”
“It’s just dangerous to think like that down here and you know it.” She continued, gesturing with her hands out to dry them, “That’s how you got your heart broken by that Cajun creep in the first place. And you can do a whole lot worse than a broken heart if you're not careful.”
He hated that she was able to so easily put a voice to the unspoken emotions roiling in his chest. He always admired how she could be equally so flippant yet bluntly insightful at the same time. She never pulled her punches, and he respected her so much for her unwavering honesty.
He took a deep breath and winced at the way it sparked the wounds in his chest. Would they ever stop hurting? If he worked himself into the ground, would that be enough?
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, staring instead at the swirling tendrils drifting off their untouched mugs.
“Vel, am I even lovable? The real me. Not the confident showman on the screen, but the real, vulnerable wreck of circuits and nerves? What if I’ve spent so long manipulating people into only seeing what I want them to, that I’ve forgotten who I am when the cameras are off?”
Vox’s thought spiral was violently disrupted by a sharp elbow into his side and Velvette’s huffing, making sure she didn’t smudge her nails in the process. “Oh no you don’t. Cut it with the self-deprecating shit. It’s not cute.”
He drew up short, turning to her, momentarily shocked out of that train of thought.
“Pout at me all you want, but you know I’m fucking right.”
There it was. Vox felt some of that icy insecurity give way to a far warmer emotion in his chest. She always knew exactly what to say.
“Yeah.” He agreed, the corners of his mouth pulling into the faintest of smiles. “You know I’d be absolutely lost without you, right?” Vox sighed affectionately.
Velvette looked nothing but pleased at that. “But of course I do. Someone’s got to look out for your stupid ass. You and me, we Vee’s gotta stick together.”
“You and I, Velvette.” Vox corrected, shaking his head warmly.
“Doesn’t rhyme, but okay.” She scoffed, cracking a fond smile.
“Thanks, Vel.” He looped an arm around her, giving her a meaningful hug.
“Now stop your mopin’, and go play with Vark or something. Shoo, you’re making me be all sappy.”
“Fuck, why won’t this work!” Vox slammed his fist down on his consol. This should be simple. Something you’re good at. Something familiar.
The program made another angry clunk at him, almost mocking him.
“I built you, you should be able to handle these parameters.” He growled, resuming to clack away angrily.
This frustration only served to further sour his mood. He developed tech for decades, hell it was literally an integral part of him, this shouldn’t be difficult. Why couldn’t he just make it do what he wanted it to do!
He blew out a harsh sigh and leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the error taunting him on the screen. —COMMUNICATION ERROR—
“Story of my fucking life.” He muttered bitterly as his current problem collided with the mess of emotions he was actively trying to drown out. Apparently zero for fucking two today, it seems.
It had been months , yet he still couldn’t escape the lingering shadows of that damned night. It made him wish he could just wipe the memories away, but sadly he wasn’t entirely machine. He still had to endure the punishment of human emotions. Suppose it was still Hell after all.
Did he just not like being told no, was that all this was? Was that why he couldn’t just move on?
He was a man who could manipulate anyone and anything with the right words, the right smile. He could have almost anything he ever wanted, but the one thing he wanted most was the one he refused to take by force.
He could manipulate almost anyone he wanted, but he didn’t want Alastor like that. He wanted him to care of his own volition, he wanted to know it was real. And that was the utter stupidity of it all.
Besides, would it have even worked if he did?
Trust me with your heart.
What was I even thinking? He laughed miserably into the light of the glowing screens.
Maybe it’s best he’s vanished.
He knew Velvette would take his shame to the grave. She was far better than what he deserved. Besides, if it got out, what would such a blatant failure do for his image?
Remember my friend, appearances matter.
He scoffed at the monitor.
How could he ever forget?
Those words had haunted him into waking far too many fitless nights.
But that’s just it isn’t it? Appearance . He had built his power on his charm and mesmerizing finesse, but why stop there?
The program finally made a bright pleased chirp, perfectly aligning with his shift in thought.
Like so many of the greats before them, he would take that pain and build an empire on the smoldering ashes of a weakness he could no longer allow himself to feel.
He would cultivate an appearance of perfection, rebrand an image that could neither be challenged nor questioned. With his tech and Vel’s vision, they could rise up and take anything they wanted.
Their brand: perfection. And every single sinner in Hell would be begging for just a piece.
Trust us with your perfection.
Fuck you, Alastor. This time, I’m going to have the last fucking laugh.
The Vee’s are going to run this fucking town.
“Ugh, Valentino is calling me yet again. ” Vox sighed, silencing his phone and setting it aside. “I don’t even know why he wants me so badly.” He lamented, stealing a handful of her popcorn as he flopped dramatically next to her.
“Though I suppose it could be a fun go at it. You know, they don’t call it a hard drive for nothing.” Vox winked at her suggestively.
She playfully shoved him in response. “Don’t be gross, fuck head.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how terrible would it be if I was possibly considering it?”
“Ten thousand . Babe, the ink is barely even dry on our business contract. Do you really think it’s a good idea to immediately crawl in bed with this guy?” She turned to him, muting to the cooking show neither of them were actually watching. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a good distraction, but this seems especially stupid, even for you.”
“It’s not like it would really mean anything, Vel. I mean, we both know the only reason he wants me is because his vision is too damn bad to realize otherwise.”
“Vox, your self confidence is shit, you know.”
“Breaking news tonight, folks.” He deadpanned.
“Oh shut up, cunt.” She affectionately swatted at him. “But for real, Vox, this is a bad idea. You know how he is. We didn’t align with him for his winning personality.”
“ Trust me Vel, I’ll be fine.” The slight distortion threaded through his tone.
Velvette’s eyes narrowed as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Cut the shit, Vox, you know that doesn’t work on me. Besides, if you actually believed that, you wouldn’t feel the need to try and pull that shit. Just, don’t be fucking stupid, okay?”
He should have fucking listened to her.
But this wasn’t a new thought to echo through his head. Her words haunted him every time he laid curled up alone in his bed, his skin thrumming in agony where Val’s ire had found its latest mark. Or each time he had to pull shards of broken screen out of his hissing circuits. Half the time, it wasn’t even over something he did.
“But Vel, I am that stupid.” He laughed humorlessly into the dark, hauling himself upright. “I don’t know why I should have expected anything different.” He shook his head tiredly, dawning his coat. He needed some air.
Even back then, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. But he was so desperate for any distraction from the suffocating loss that carved his chest hollow and burned his eyes until there was nothing left.
The man who had left those irreparable scars was unlike anyone he had ever met, enigmatic and brilliant, and as effortlessly witty as he was ruthless. In short, he was everything he had ever wanted.
And even still years later, a mere turn of phrase or phantom just out of sight, could still be all it took for him to steal into his thoughts again. The grief clung to him like an invisible shroud, and the intangible sorrow felt worse than any leash anyone else could ever shackle on him. And fuck , had he tried to let that heartless bastard go.
He had tried for years to let those wounds scab over and fade, but he just couldn’t shake the ghosts that haunted him. And it didn’t matter how hard he threw himself into his work, or drowned his sorrows in vices, it never was enough to mask that ache in the lonely hours that was never quite enough to kill him twice over.
He fucking hated his weakness. He would never be as strong or confident as Vel was. He fucking hated that he was so desperate, that an open set of arms promising to distract him from the pain had felt so inviting. That at least someone saw something in him worth wanting. And he fell for it.
He should have known those promises were lies. And every bruise was a reminder of the truth. But they had built a company together, lives intertwined so thoroughly now that he felt like he could never leave, even if he desperately wanted to —wanted this to stop.
Not like he would ever let him go.
Vox continued to wander through the streets, too preoccupied by his thoughts to pay much mind to where his feet were carrying him.
Until his feet stilled in front that old derelict storefront.
He tried to swallow down the pain seeing that long abandoned radio perched on the shelf, mocking him.
I want so much to hate you, but deep down I know I never will.
If only your ghost would leave me alone now, just as you have.
Chapter 3: Hear Me on the Airwaves
Notes:
IMPORTANT: ****TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY****
THE THIRD SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE.
If this is something you would prefer to skip over, the scene starts with: “Vox.” Val slammed open the door to his office.
and ends with: Vox’s shoulders slumped in a sigh. Right.The fourth scene is just Velvette helping take care of Vox and them discussing what happened.
Chapter Text
Three Years Later
Vox sat in his control room, absolutely seething. “That fucking bastard! How fucking dare him! Who the fuck does he think he is to waltz back into Hell and immediately start shit and ridicule me all over again! It’s bad enough he fucking came back, but he didn’t even have the decency to do so quietly.” He wanted to throw something, he wanted to hurt someone else to distract him from the gaping maw he felt ripping at his chest.
Seeing him suddenly come crashing back into his life and immediately calling him out, felt like an utter blow to the gut. That the man who threw him away would come back and immediately rip open his wounds all over again.
The overwhelming ache in his chest ripped away his breath and he curled up on the floor, clutching his knees to his chest. It was fucking pitiful, he damn well knew it, but he didn’t care. He could allow himself to wallow, he hated what his life had become. What he had become. He hated how Alastor gave public voice to so many of his internal insecurities, and humiliatingly broadcasted them out on the airwaves. He knew he had made bad choice after bad, entered into a business deal in poor judgement, and was paying the price of hoping to drown out the loneliness and heartache.
He was thankful no one ever dared come into his control room. He knew he was safe in here. For five minutes he didn’t have to pretend that his life wasn’t an actual living hell.
Vox needed to get out of the studio to clear his head. All of these messy emotions were starting to interfere with his latest launch. The warm mocha was grounding in his hands as the jingle of the bell heralded his emergence back into the city.
“Knock, knock.” That telltale voice disrupted his thoughts.
Goddamnit .
That antlered bastard just couldn’t let him have five minutes without stealing into his thoughts.
“Tell me Mr. Vox, did you miss me while I was out?” Alastor leaned forward with his hands folded behind his back, smug as anything.
"Fuck you, asshole." Vox tried to shoulder past him, but Alastor blocked his path, unbothered.
Alastor stalked forward leaning right up into Vox’s personal space, making his pulse flutter. He hated that he still had that power over him after all these years. "Hmm, you’d like that wouldn’t you, old friend?"
He could tell it was rhetorical by his taunting tone, and even though he knew it wasn’t real, nevertheless his stomach plummeted when Alastor pulled back with a chuckle.
“You may be able to fool everyone else with your smoke and mirrors, but I can see through your static. My, you have made some poor choices while I was out, I must say.”
“What the fuck do you want, Alastor? You made your point crystal clear that you don’t want anything to do with me.” Vox tried to walk away, but Alastor casually fell into stride alongside him.
“On the contrary, I feel like you might want to make a deal. A mutual benefit if you will. Valentino has become a problem and has outlived his usefulness in this town. Don’t you agree?”
Val? Even through his anger, hearing his name made his stomach drop, but he kept any hint of that carefully off his face.
“He’s one of my business partners, why the fuck would you come to me with this? Can’t you go to one of your fucking underlings, if this is such a burden to you?”
“Yes, but I’m thinking of a more personal approach, if you will. Someone who can really get under his skin. Someone close to him.”
“So now you see me? Because you finally think I’m fucking useful?” Vox spat, the static starting to hiss around him.
“Come now, Vox. No need to be so bitter. You really thought I could love you? Have you even seen what you’ve done to yourself? Not that it’s any business of mine of course, but you’re not hiding the cracks on the screen from anyone. If you had any real spine, you’d never let anyone treat you like that. Everyone knows your power is slipping, despite your show of bravado.”
“You don’t get to suddenly barge in after seven fucking years and act all holier than thou. Cut the shit, Alastor. You don’t fucking know me. You never even tried. You don’t care about me.” Vox crossed his arms, bitterness dripping with every word. He didn’t care that he made it clear that he struck a nerve. Alastor could have the satisfaction this time. He was done.
“Well, I’m afraid you’re right about that. Just thought I should offer a casual observation. From one Overlord to– you still are an Overlord, yes?”
"Alastor, you’re still a piece of shit, you know!”
"Sticks and stones, my dear.”
“Fucking Asshole!" Vox wanted to strike him. Wanted that mark to leave even a taste of the pain this charming bastard has put him through. He wasn’t sure if he was just being that obvious in telegraphing his movements, but Alastor caught him by the wrist before he could connect with his smug fucking smile.
Alastor tightened his grip on Vox’s raised hand, pushing him back ever so slightly. The threat of crackling distortion lingered in the air. Alastor took a step forward, closing the distance enough that Vox could smell the cloves clinging to his jacket. “Now, now, my little video podcast, there’ll be none of that.”
The distorted static buzzed through his teeth, and the knotted whirlwind of emotions had him at a loss for words. He was both seduced and enraged. Falling head first for this selfish bastard all over again.
Alastor was all too happy to fill the silence with his characteristic lilt, releasing him. "I must say, my dear, that was most amusing. We should do that again sometime. Think about my offer. But in the meantime, I’m afraid I must dash, places to be, people to kill, you know how it is. Ta!" And just like that, he turned on his heel and strode off as if nothing had just passed between them.
Vox stood there still stunned, staring at his retreating coat tails, reeling at the lingering feeling of his breath ghosting across his skin, before blinding rage crashed over him. He rammed his fist into the wall behind him, uncaring of who saw. Fucking bastard.
“Vox.” Val slammed open the door to his office.
“Huh?” Vox murmured distractedly looking up from his tablet.
“You want to tell me why you were seen with the fucking Radio Demon today?” He crossed the room in three long strides, and leaned over Vox dangerously. “Hmm, amorsito?”
Fuck.
Val got in his face, his thinly veiled rage plain in voice, “Did he not break your heart enough last time? Or in seven years did you forget? Do I need to remind you?”
Vox tried to put distance between them, but was limited, his back pressing into his chair. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Why do I not fucking believe you? I saw him practically kiss you.” He hissed threateningly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.
“Why are you spying on me now?” He fired back, knowing he was playing a dangerous game, but one that would likely end the same no matter what he said.
Val narrowed his eyes and hauled him to his feet. “That sounds like an admission to me. You know I don’t like other people touching my things.”
The roiling venom that surged in him at those words shot through him like a current. “You don’t fucking own me.” He spat.
Vox regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth.
Val only laughed at that, a claw under his screen forcing Vox to look up at him. “Voxxy, you belong to me in any way that matters. You fucking need me. That’s why you and your little fashion bitch partnered with me to begin with. Or did you forget that too? Sweetheart .” Val aggressively grabbed his shoulders, squeezing to the point of pain.
Vox intentionally bit back the words that wanted to launch out of his mouth. Don’t make this any worse, idiot.
“There is nothing he can offer you that I can’t give you double. You don’t need him. A pretty little thing like you can have whatever else you’ve ever wanted. Just forget him.” Valentino blew a puff of smoke into his face. Even though it didn’t work on him, Val still knew he fucking hated it. Which was exactly why he pointedly did so just then.
He knew what was coming, but that did little to dull the pain at the splintering crack as Val railed his fist into the side of his screen.
Yet Again.
Val’s voice had shifted into something disconcertingly cloying, “Mi cariño, he’s so far out of your league, you’re not even playing the same sport. Why would he even want you if he saw the mess you’ve made of yourself? Why do you do this to yourself?”
Just stop. Stop touching me. Leave me alone. Just STOP.
“ Val, ” Vox’s screen brightened as the distortion threaded through his voice, “ STOP. ”
Val’s eyes narrowed furiously at that. “You want to try that again, dear?”
Shit.
Valentino’s long fingers wrapped agonizingly around his throat, smiling in greasy satisfaction at Vox’s racing pulse. Vox desperately tried to stay motionless under his hand, until the delight began to enter into Valentino’s eyes. Val finally sighed contentedly before giving his throat an aggressive final squeeze and releasing him. Vox forced every reflex in his body not to cough. Val hated that, always telling him it ‘ruined the mood.’
Val’s sickening grin widened as he watched him, deliberately. “Oh you know me so well.” Val rocked back on his heels, placated.
Yeah, to survive. “Of course Val, only the best for you.” He acquiesced defeatedly.
“Mmm, now that’s what I like to hear.” Val’s hands caressing his arms felt violating and wrong. Was there a time when he actually held him tenderly, or were those more lies he fed himself to stay?
“Just stay away from him, okay amorsito? You know you’ll always be my favorite.” Val slid his hands up possessively around his shoulders, squeezing the bruises Vox could already feel buzzing to the surface under his shirt.
Vox carefully schooled his face to hide his wince of pain.
“Go clean yourself up, I’ve got a shoot to run. I will see you later. ” Val shook his head at him dismissively before sweeping out the door.
Vox’s shoulders slumped in a sigh.
Right .
Vox stumbled into Velvette’s office, collapsing heavily on the couch without so much as a knock.
Velvette huffed and rolled her eyes before finally glancing up to acknowledge Vox’s arrival. Her eyes immediately narrowed, he better not get blood on the rug again.
“Vox, you look utter like shit. What happened this time?”
“Valentino.”
Velvette’s face immediately fell.
“Again?” Her voice turned soft.
“Yeah.” Vox sighed, feeling the shame begin to compete with the bruises starting to color his skin.
She set down her phone with a sigh and reached for one of the many ice packs in the nearby mini fridge. “Why can’t you just force him to stop taking things out on you?” She handed it to him with warm concern, though there was clear anger simmering underneath her words.
She was the only one who has always had my back.
Vox finally let some of his frustration spill out. “I’ve tried . I keep trying. But I just can’t get through to him to make him stop. Even the brightness trick you thought of didn’t work.”
“What was it this time?” She sighed, settling next to him on the couch, wrapping a consoling arm around his waist. She could always pick up on where was safe to touch.
Vox let out a watery sigh at the comforting touch, “Fucking Alastor, of course. Not back for five fucking minutes and I’m already getting the shit beat out of me again because of him. He sought me out, and Val heard about it. And of course someone else’s actions are somehow my fucking fault.”
“Shit.” She eyed up the depth of the jagged cracks at his chin. “Here, hold still.”
She started to remove the largest chunks of broken glass from his hissing circuits, setting them beside her phone on the nearby table. “So what’d he want anyway? Bitchy Bambi, not the piss baby.”
“Vel, he wants me to help remove Val… permanently . I don’t even know if Val can be killed… Or if I want to.” He added quietly.
She leaned back, quietly considering him for a moment, “After everything he’s done to you, I wouldn’t blame you if you snapped and did. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be pissed as hell about the sheer amount of damage control I’d have to fucking do. But, I’d get it.”
“If it wasn’t him who suggested it, goddamn I’d consider it. I’m so fucking tired, Velvette. What’s the point of having all of this control and power over people, if I have no control in my own fucking life? What’s the point anymore?”
“Vox, I— I just worry about you, okay? You might have stopped caring about yourself, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone left who does. You’re still my best friend.”
Her eyes snapped up to his with a slightly menacing tone, “But don’t you dare ever tell another soul that or I will dox your ass before you can even blink.” Her voice instantly dipped back into softness. “But I mean it, sweetie. Really. You and me, we Vee’s gotta stick together.”
“You and I, Velvette.” Vox corrected, trying for a smile, before he winced at how far the crack spidered up his face.
Velvette’s frown returned, watching him. “Want me to accidentally leak some bad press about him?” She held up her phone invitingly.
Vox shot her a weary glance. The likelihood of him being on the receiving end of that tantrum must have shone through on his face.
“Right. Fuck. Well, I don’t want that now.”
Hmm, she tapped her stylus against her lips in consideration. “Just a couple rumors then? Something quiet, to sting, but not enough to draw his ire. Just enough to send a message.”
Vox tried to roll his shoulder, only to let out a hiss of pain. “Fuck.”
“Oh Vox. How long do you think they’ll take to heal this time? This one’s pretty bad.”
“I don’t know. I’m going to go downstairs and try to make some repairs.” He stood with a grimace. “Tell everyone to not disturb me. Do you still have those pre-recorded covers? You know we can’t have people see me like this.”
“Yeah, I know.” Velvette sighed in frustration. “I fucking hate this bullshit. Shoo, go take care of yourself.”
It felt so different when she said it. He privately would be forever grateful for her. She was the only one he knew who would always have his back, no matter what. And she knew he’d do the same for her, but she was so much fucking smarter than him. Fuck, he should have listened to her back then.
Vox exhaled a distorted sigh and hunched over on his console, tenderly touching the exposed wires under his chin. He hung his head defeatedly.
When did he let things get so far out of hand? Every day, his perfectly fabricated image of confidence and control became a little more of an ill-fitting mask. No one would be swayed by his carefully crafted charms if they knew how weak the signal had become. The slip of power he could feel, was not something that could ever be broadcasted.
Chapter 4: Please Stand By
Notes:
IMPORTANT: ****TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY****
THE THIRD SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE.
If this is something you would prefer to skip over, the scene starts with: Val slammed his fist on the table
and ends with: He could lock the door. No one needed to know.The fourth scene is Alastor learning the truth of what has been going on and a discussion about the abuse.
Stay safe and well, loves!
Chapter Text
"Alastor sweetie!” Rosie’s face lit up as she waved him over and he was genuinely happy to see her again. He’d missed her these past few years.
“Rosie, darling.” He gave her an affectionate embrace before settling across the table from her charming face.
“Come, come, take some tea. It’s been far too long!” She enthused, already pouring him a cup. A sincere smile spread across his face at the comforting familiarity of it all.
Sitting once more at their usual table, he could almost pretend that he never left.
“So,” She grinned with a smile that portented the impending doom of his privacy. “What’s all this drama I’ve already been hearing so much about? Alastor, you know I detest not being in the know. Especially if there’s some delectable gossip to be had. Tell me everything. "
He really had missed her. Even when she was being vexingly nosy.
“Rosie,” He chirped. “It's nothing really , just a bit of an old school yard rivalry. Nothing too exciting.”
Her smile shifted into one of triumphant glee. “So it is about a boy, then?”
“What now?” Alastor stared at her bewildered, feeling immediately lost, but Rosie continued on undeterred.
“My, Alastor, how unlike you. He must be pretty special to catch your eye. So , what’s he like?”
There was nothing special about that clingy picture box .
“He’s an egotistical, charismatic megalomaniac and an absolute imbecile.” Alastor rolled his eyes, injecting as much derision into his words as he could manage.
Rosie’s grin turned impossibly further into wicked delight. “Oh that’s a lot of fancy talk, there Alastor. Sounds like chemistry to me.”
“Absurdity is unbecoming on you, Rosie.” He scoffed, picking a finger sandwich off the tray.
“Oh hush you.” She brushed him off with a look of determination. “Do I know him, then?”
Alastor huffed, resigning himself to the erroneous path this conversation had taken, “Regretfully, it’s hard to miss his self-aggrandizing need to slap his smug face everywhere.”
Rosie looked up from refilling her cup with a frown as she put together the pieces. “Isn’t he all mixed up with that Valentino fellow? Not to speak out of turn, but I’ve heard that moth is a little barmy on the crumpet, if you know what I mean.” She made a show of pretending to whisper.
“Oh he most definitely is.” Alastor leaned back with a petty flourish. “Though I have no such quarrels about speaking candidly, my dear. He is a vile cad, who has long outlived his usefulness in Hell. And I have every intention of taking him off the air .”
Rosie gave him an appraising look across the table. “Is that wise, dear?”
Alastor’s eyes lit up dangerously, a flicker of distortion stealing into his tone, “The people could use a reminder not to mess with the Radio Demon.” And just as quick, it dissipated back behind that unshakable presence as he took a sip from his cup.
“That’s point enough.” She shrugged before mirroring his actions.
“So, back to the boy.” She rounded back on him, charming as ever, “Alastor sweetie, don’t think I’m gonna to let you change the subject on me just because you flash that pretty little smile of yours.”
Alastor merely made an ‘if you must,’ sort of a gesture.
“So. What I’m hearin’ is that after seven years, he still seems flustered by your very presence. This boy sounds real smitten with you, honey. And if you’re going for the power angle, this would set you up nicely for whatever your schemes here are. You’ve never bothered to waste words on people you genuinely dislike, so you clearly don’t hate this boy. So what’s stopping you? Come on, Alastor, live a little!”
“Rosie…” Alastor sighed, knowing this was a losing battle.
“Tell me, have I ever steered you wrong? Really what’s the harm? It sounds like it may be a beneficial arrangement and you know I do so love a good love story to brighten up the days.”
Alastor just raised an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, yes, I know, I know, not your flavor, but you get what I’m tryin’ to say. Give it a whirl. You might even have some fun.”
Alastor watched the tendrils of steam rise up from his morning cup of coffee, lost in thought over his current gambit. He was still wildly unconvinced at Rosie’s suggested tactic, but upon further consideration, there was something wickedly tempting about tormenting the ridiculous man he had hardly spoken to in almost a decade. Especially, if it just so happened to put him closer to his end goal.
He took another sip from his cup and nearly laughed at the insane strategy he was contemplating. He had omitted this observation from their conversation, but the glint of stricken attraction in Vox’s eyes hadn’t escaped his notice when he had stilled his hand. There was definitely a thread to be pulled there, and that did seem like the most prudent angle to take. Reluctant as he was to admit it, there was something delectable about the surge of control he had felt with Vox’s fluttering pulse beneath his thumb. The rush of power he had felt in that moment still buzzed under his skin. It was intriguing. Exploitable.
Just because he had no desires past horribly affecting the infuriating picture box, did not mean he couldn’t be amused by the game of toying with him. And regrettably he conceded, playing along with this idiot, would make his overall machinations easier to accomplish.
If nothing else, between – whatever one would call this– and this silly little hotel business, he certainly wouldn’t be starved for entertainment for the foreseeable future.
Hmm, he grinned, setting aside his now empty cup. He should go pay a visit to that delightful little coffee shop again today.
It would have been impossible for Vox to overlook the conspicuous table he had perched himself at, content to bide his time. He was unhurried. If he had ever learned anything, it was that a slow cooked meal was always worth the wait.
Vox had barely one foot through the doorway when Alastor felt his eyes fall on him, and the way his posture drew up filled the Radio Demon with fiendish glee. Alastor proceeded to offer an obnoxious little wave and held up a second cup invitingly.
Vox made such a blatant show of trying to ignore him that it almost made him laugh. He was about to stalk past him without so much as an acknowledgment, but Alastor couldn’t have that now.
“And how are we this morning, my dear Vox? Coffee?” Alastor smirked antagonistically, extending a cup of the most sickenly sweet concoction on the menu. Disgusting , but it seemed like the sort of thing this imbecile would choose to order.
Vox let out a staticky hiss of annoyance, pointedly refusing the proffered drink. “What do you want, Alastor? I’m not in the mood for your sadistic games.”
“I was just curious if you’d thought any more on my proposal?” Alastor gestured smugly before taking a sip of his proper cup of unsullied coffee.
Vox refused to meet his eyes, already trying to turn away, ready to leave without ordering. “Leave me alone. Wasn't breaking my heart enough? I know you only come around to hurt me.”
“Seems the only reason most people keep me around.” He muttered under his breath.
“Hmm, what now?” It was an unnecessary question, but he couldn’t resist.
“Nothing.” Vox dismissed hurriedly. There was a slight flinch in his movements that was so unlike the showman he had known.
At that observation, Alastor just looked at him for a long moment. Really looked at him. And he didn’t like the suspicions that were starting to take hold.
He could see it now, his emotional fraying at the edges, the subtle evidence of just how new this screen was.
This was not the same Vox he knew seven years ago. This, he realized, was the face of a man who felt hopeless, but covered it up with a smile.
Something he knew all too well. A wry smile pulled at the edges of his mouth.
“Look, you’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t care about me. Just— just, stay away from me Alastor. I can’t do this anymore.” Vox turned away with a watery sigh, before disappearing into the shop’s surveillance camera.
Alastor felt a certain tug of stubbornness at that. “Hmm no , I don’t think I will.”
Val slammed his fist on the table, sending mugs rattling against the surface. “I thought I told you to stay away from him.” He hissed.
“You did. I didn’t. He’s the one following me! I didn’t do anything!” Please not again. I just fixed this screen.
“I know how obsessed you still are with him. Give me one reason I should believe you, mi chiquito?” Val growled, flexing his wings in intimidation.
“Believe me, Val. Please. I didn’t.” Vox entreated, shrinking back.
Val stalked into his space, the fury raging in his eyes now, “You know exactly why I didn’t tell you he was back. I knew you’d immediately try to run back to him. He will never love you. You would still be alone if I hadn’t taken pity on you.”
“I swear I didn’t do anything this time!”
“I don’t like that answer.”
Vox could see the blow before it slammed into his face with a sickening crack. The force of it knocked him to his knees. Maybe one of these times he just wouldn’t get up again and it would finally be over.
“You’re pathetic, you know? Maybe one day you’ll actually learn to be grateful for how good you have it with me.” Val turned his back with a sneer. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
Vox heard the door slam, and he finally let out a whimper of pain as he tried to pull himself upright. The following silence was a strange sort of relief and a defeated sigh fell from his lips.
It was already getting difficult to see out of that eye; the shattered web, casting everything into a kaleidoscopic view.
A brand of perfection indeed.
He was fuming, but he just needed to drag himself down to his control room and it would be okay. He could lock the door. No one needed to know.
“There you are! I hope you don’t mind, I let myself in, old friend.”
Vox just blinked in horrified disbelief as he stumbled through the doorway.
He could literally not deal with this shit right now. The distortion in his vision blurred as the pain surged in his cheek. Shit . There was no way it wouldn’t be plainly obvious what happened. And the fucking arrogant ungulate who was the entire reason he was busted up to begin with, had his feet propped up on his fucking consol. Smug as anything.
The static crackled dangerously at his barely restrained rage, “Get the fuck out, Alastor.”
Alastor hummed, blithely draped across his chair, still turned away from him. “Hmm, why should I? Are you going to make me?”
Vox growled as several cables hissed behind him. “Haven’t you done enough? I said go!” At that, Alastor finally turned to look at him and a light of horrified understanding entered his eyes. And the fucking pity he saw there gutted him more than any blow he had ever managed to land.
In a blink, he was at his side.
“Perhaps you should sit down.” Alastor guided Vox into the now vacated chair. He felt delirious. The object of his affections that had tormented him for years, was suddenly nothing but a comforting companion, practically taking care of him.
“How long?” Alastor’s voice was horrifyingly serious as he knelt beside him, examining the wound with careful fingers.
“How long have you been gone again?” Vox tried for a laugh, but failed miserably.
Alastor frowned, straightening, casting his eyes about the room as he spoke. “I’ve seen this far too many times. Never again never means anything. There is always a next time, it’s just a matter of when and over what.”
“So you’re a saint now?” Vox wished he could roll his eyes right now at that.
Alastor scoffed as he opened the mini fridge door, “My dear, I may be a sadistic bastard, but I draw the line at abuse. You’re an idiot, but you don’t deserve this.”
Vox only laughed humorlessly at that.
“No amount of love is worth this, Vox. I know it is truly none of my business, but how many times does he have to hit you for you to get it? He’s never going to change.” Alastor asked in a low voice, handing him an ice pack.
Vox could not even believe what was happening. Val must have punched him harder than he thought.
“It’s never been about love. He knows I don’t love him, and I know he doesn’t love me. He only loves the idea of having me around. We both know where my heart lies.” Vox sighed brokenly, pointedly looking away. “So what if he breaks a screen or two if it keeps the loneliness at bay.”
“Are you really that pathetic? To feel so alone that you run into the arms of the likes of him?” Alastor tutted softly.
“Wow. Thanks, asshole.”
“I’m serious. Leave him.”
Vox could only stare at him, before he finally found his voice again, and the words came out far more plainly earnest than he ever meant to show.
“There are worse things to feel.”
“You idiot boy.” Alastor shook his head, sighing as he stood. “You're better than that, you know.” His voice dropped in uncharacteristic softness.
“I still don’t see why you care.”
Alastor grew quiet for a moment clasping his hands behind his back, and Vox couldn’t even begin to guess at what he was thinking.
“You really still love me even after all this time? After all of this?”
Vox was not expecting that and it was definitely a beat or two later before softly forcing the words out around the tightness of his throat, “I wish I didn’t, but yeah, still do.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Alastor leaned forward, pressing his lips to Vox’s, still carefully keeping his hands knitted behind him while avoiding the jagged edges of his wound. Vox’s eyes widened in shock and the static crackling in the air was a tangible thing. It was short and chaste, but still Vox temporarily short circuited at what just happened.
Alastor leaned back, chuckling softly at that.
“Perhaps I was wrong about you.” Alastor studied Vox as he watched him regain his composure, before continuing, “Though, you do know this too wouldn’t be healthy, don’t you? That I would be feeding off the power of how you feel for me?”
Vox just let out a humorless laugh, gesturing to his face, “Have you seen what I’ve settled for? I’ve done a lot worse.”
“This would never be that.” Alastor’s tone had never been more solemn.
“Thanks.”
“Well then.” He grinned. “This could be an interesting experiment, don’t you think? Though there would need to be some definite boundaries.”
“No deals. You may have my heart, but I’m not giving you my soul.”
“Heavens no! I wouldn’t dream of it. There are certainly other things I would be getting out of our little arrangement.”
Vox raised an amused eyebrow at that.
“Now, now, get your mind out of the gutter, nothing untoward. I have standards to keep up after all. But I swear that I will never strike you, no matter how much of an idiot you are. That I can promise.” He paused, before a grin spread across his face. “Now, how can I help, dear. ”
Oh. This man was going to kill him.
Chapter 5: Will the Broadcast End If I Close My Eyes?
Chapter Text
“The fuck are you so happy about, fuck head?” Velvette looked up from her phone with one eyebrow raised. “Finally decided to stop moping’ around your sorry ass basement?”
“Well good morning to you too, Velvette.” Vox shook his head, walking into her living room.
“But for real, you're in a good mood, spill.”
Vox ignored her in favor of pouring his morning coffee and adding a sinful amount of sugary creamer.
“And you got a new mug?” She leaned over the table, being thoroughly obnoxious now. “I have got to fucking know now. You had that stupid one forever. Did ya finally smash it?”
Vox chuckled at the private double entendre she unknowingly implied. “Not quite.”
“Did Val finally break up with you, is that what this is?”
Vox couldn’t help but grin wider, settling across from her.
“Are you fucking for real right now? No fucking way.”
“No, but I’m finally going to do it. I’ve had enough. He doesn’t own me, and if Angel Dust can get out from under his thumb, I damn well can.”
“That’s going to play hell with our stocks, you know. But I’m still proud of you. I’m sick of watching him smack you around like you're nothing. You’re fucking better than that, Vox.”
“So I keep being told.” Vox couldn't quite hide the smile in his voice and Velvette jumped on it immediately.
“So who the fuck is he? Do I need to run a background check on him?”
“Yo Alastor, you comin’ to movie night, t’night? It’s Niffty’s pick, it’s sure ta be weird.” Angel called out as returned from his outing.
“Sorry, I can't, dear. I have a date.” Alastor smirked before disappearing upstairs with a flourish. Angel continued to stare at where he just stood, bewildered.
“The fuck.” He muttered.
Vox stood there a moment loitering near the hotel. He could do this. This was what he’d wanted for so long. He wouldn’t fuck this up. He shook himself, wiping each hand on his trousers, careful to avoid crushing the flowers.
Yanking on a bundle of courage, he strode up to the front door and knocked. He could do this.
The heavy door clicked, only to be met with an all-too-familiar scowling face.
Fuck.
“What da fuck do you want, Vox?” Angel opened the door and immediately crossed all of his arms in obvious contempt.
Deep breath, you knew this could happen.
“Is— is Alastor ready to go?” He nervously twisted the roses in his hands, desperately trying not to crush them with his nerves.
Angel stared at him, before calling over his shoulder, baffled. “ This fuckin’ guy? Are you fa real righ’ now?”
Vox shifted awkwardly in the doorway. “Y—yeah. H—hi Angel. How have you been? You— ya look good.”
“What’s yer play ‘ere? You hate this asshole. No, ya know what, I really don’t think I care.”
Vox opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.
“Yeah, that’s— that’s fair.” Vox dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor, taking a steadying breath, before forcing himself to meet Angel’s still scowling face. “Hey, uh Angel, I know we’ve never had the best relationship and I know I’ve done some real shitty things, but for what it’s worth coming from me, I’m proud of you.”
Angel just raised an eyebrow at him, clearly taken aback. “Heh thanks, I guess. But yeah, I still think yer pretty shitty.”
Vox let out a laugh, half relieved, half self-deprecating, “Oh make no mistake, I’m still a shitty person. It is hell after all and well, I’m still me. But maybe it doesn’t have to be a complete hell all the time, ya know?”
“Yeah okay.” Angel rolled his eyes, but said nothing further.
At that, Alastor materialized beside the door, clearly fascinated by the exchange. “Having fun, dear?”
“Hi, Alastor. How— how are you?”
“Splendid.”
“Oh, um, I got these for you. I hope you like them this time.” Vox nervously extended the roses towards Alastor, who was increasingly amused by the passing second. Vox worried he might overheat under the scrutiny of all of the eyes now watching his bumbling unfold.
“You’re too kind, Vox. But as entertaining as this is, shall we go?” Alastor mercifully offered, extending an arm.
As soon as the heavy door swung shut, Angel whipped around addressing everyone that had filtered into the lobby.
“Does anybody ‘ave any idea what da fuck jus’ ‘appened?” He gestured towards the door.
“Looks like two shitty people walking out a door to me.” Husk rolled his eyes, resuming wiping down the already spotless bar.
Angel shot him an exasperated look. “Ya know what I meant, toots.”
“And you really think I give a damn?” Husk shot back, but there was no real heat behind it.
“Nah, didn’t figga ya did.”
Charlie was just about vibrating out of her skin in excitement. “Oh my gosh, guys, guys, guys, did you see that!? That was amazing! And Angel, you were so good just now. Just amazing ! Vaggie, did you see that? Everything is so wholesome right now!” She was practically shaking Vaggie’s arm in her gesticulations.
“Sure, sweetie. If that makes you happy.”
“Vaggie, yes, I am so happy right now! I’ve gotta go write this down!” Charlie bounced out of the room utterly overjoyed.
Chapter 6: Facing the Music, When I’m Far Too Scared to Sing
Notes:
No major abuse trigger warnings on this chapter.
The second scene deals with Vox leaving Valentino.
The third scene deals with Vox's psychological aftermath and internal reflections.
Chapter Text
“So… What is this whole thing with you helping run this new absurd hotel?” Vox was desperately scraping for conversation. This was going terribly and they hadn’t even received their soup yet. Why had he said yes to dinner? He wished he wasn’t so desperate to impress Alastor. Drinks would have been so much easier.
Alastor chuckled, more as an aside to himself, before replying, “Princess Morningstar desperately needed guidance and I could hardly say no to witnessing such a wayward display of misplaced optimism.”
“So you really don’t think it’ll work, do you?”
“Of course not! But it’s hilarious to watch them try.”
Vox shook his head in amusement. “Well, it’s nice to see that you haven’t changed in that sense.”
At that, the conversation stilted into an awkward silence, and Alastor regarded him over the top of his wine glass. “So, I see you have a new look. Is it…useful?”
“You hate it, don’t you?” He wilted.
Alastor scoffed, setting down his glass. “You’ve always looked ridiculous if you ask me. Your obsession with incessant technological upgrades has continually seemed unnecessary.”
“Oh.” This was a mistake. They used to be able to chat for hours. They had been friends back then, right? Had they really both changed so much in the intervening years?
The waiter finally took pity on them, delivering them one step closer to diplomatically escaping the worst first date in Hell.
They ate their soup in relative silence, but there was one question that had been burning in his chest for weeks now.
“You came back after all this time. Why now?” Vox’s voice was little more than a bewildered whisper.
“Why not?” Alastor shrugged, setting down his spoon with an aloof disinterest.
I guess I want to know what it is that you really want. And what it is you want from me.
“Did you ever succeed in developing your animal telepathy project?” Alastor gently, but purposefully, redirected the conversation.
Vox just stared at him, taken aback. “You remember that?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Sadly, I only ever got it as far as them just mirroring my emotions, but not able to communicate on their own. I could never get the frequency right.”
“That’s a pity.” He hummed, pouring them each another glass of wine.
“I can’t believe you still remember that.”
“I did actually listen, you know.”
“Huh.” Vox fell silent after that, quietly trying to process the mess of emotions that sprung up from such a simple sentence. Maybe this wasn’t going as badly as he thought.
By the time they had finished their entrées, it was becoming inescapably obvious that the pair of them were starting to draw attention. The whispers from a nearby table were hardly subtle and Alastor shot them a scathing glare, quickly silencing them. The whole exchange felt a bit like some sort of fever dream. Vox wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it all. Flattered, preening, paranoid? He was determined not to let his worries about tomorrow’s inevitable fallout tarnish this.
Alastor turned back to him with a put out sigh, “Shall we remove ourselves to somewhere with fewer prying eyes?”
Vox chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to take that.
“I know a lovely park over in Cannibal Town, if you’d care for the walk.”
“I– uh sure, I think I’d like that. Just let me—” Vox went to reach for the check, only for Alastor to deftly snatch it away with a fine-boned claw.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I asked you therefore I shall pay. That’s how it works.” He rolled his eyes, swiftly handling the bill.
“Fine.” Vox let out a disgruntled but acquiescing sigh.
“I swear your fixation on modernization has done nothing for your sense of propriety.” Alastor tsked, making Vox flush ever so slightly. “Now, shall we?” He stood with a self-satisfied grin.
The park was surprisingly nice. Vox rarely had any reason to venture out to this part of the city, but he could instantly see why such an atmosphere would appeal to an antiquarian like the demon seated on the bench beside him.
Despite the nerve-wracking interludes, the evening was shaping up to be pleasantly salvageable. Maybe they still had enough in common to make this work. He wondered if Alastor would accept if he asked for a second date. The surge of fond excitement spurred on his actions, before he consciously thought them through, draping an arm gently across Alastor’s shoulder.
He knew instantly it was a mistake. “Vox, dear.” Alastor spoke with a note of warning in his tone, not bothering to turn his head.
“Sorry,” Vox swiftly retracted his hand from his shoulder. Shit.
“It’s fine.” Alastor was silent for a long moment, before turning toward him. “We should probably discuss boundaries.”
Feeling chastised and embarrassed, Vox knitted his fingers together in his lap and nodded.
Alastor sighed heavily before he continued, sounding far more tired. “I do not like others initiating that sort of physical contact without warning. And even then, there are very few people I allow to do so. If you must touch me, I prefer permission first. Though I mostly prefer contact on my own terms.”
Vox watched him carefully, silently shocked by the uncharacteristic vulnerability. When he found his voice again, all that came out was a very earnest, “Okay.”
“And along those lines, anything even remotely unsavory or explicit are completely off the agenda.”
Vox tried hard not to wilt at that, but he must not have hidden it well enough, because Alastor added slightly softer, "I do not engage in such— activities, and as I said touch can be… complicated, but I do very much fancy dancing. Perhaps that could be a neutral ground for us?”
Vox flushed at the offer, “Oh, I... never really had a chance to learn.”
“How about I teach you, then?”
Vox couldn’t suppress how much his face lit up at that, “I’d really love that, Alastor.”
“Marvelous.” The smallest hint of a genuine smile pulled at his lips.
They drifted into a comfortable silence, each quietly falling into their own thoughts.
“You know this was a surprisingly enjoyable evening.” Alastor mused, gazing up at the sky.
“Yeah, this was really nice. I’m glad we finally got to do this.”
“Well it certainly took you long enough.” Alastor needled cheekily.
At that, some of that old hurt spiked in his chest. “You’re the one who left, not me, asshole.” Vox took a breath and let it out very slowly, before continuing far less barbed, “Where were you anyway?”
Alastor’s hand twitched at that. “You know I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Yeah. Makes sense.” Vox sighed, he didn’t expect Alastor to actually answer his question. “I really fucking missed you after you disappeared.”
“I’m quite aware.” The smugness that crept into his voice was hardly subtle and Vox felt an unwitting pang of attraction at that.
He could feel the corners of his mouth start to pull into a tentative smile. “Not that I’m complaining in the slightest, but what uh– made you change your mind?”
Alastor took that as an opportunity to stretch with an aloof flourish. “I simply decided my dear, that I don’t want anyone to torment you other than me.”
Vox looked at him amused but unimpressed, “Wow. How sweet…”
“You asked.” Alastor grinned slyly, before rising to his feet and extending an assured hand. “Now I do believe it’s time for me to teach you a lesson.”
Vox heard him storming up the hall, moments before his office door was thrown open in a rage. He had honestly expected this to happen much earlier in the day. In hindsight, he probably should have warned the interns, but oh well. He was not going to back down this time.
“VOX, YOU TWO TIMING WHORE!”
Vox sighed, not bothering to mask his annoyance. “Do you ever knock, Valentino? You behave like a spoiled child.”
Valentino slammed his hands on his desk, getting in his face, only further illustrating his point. “Oh, and I bet that petty little bitch is so mature, I’m sure.”
Vox raised an unamused eyebrow at him, determined to not let his façade of confidence shatter.
“You really didn’t think I wouldn’t find out!”
That was much the point, asshole.
Vox stood, meeting his eyes unflinchingly, “And what? We were never exclusive, you’ve certainly exploited that. I think we’re done here, I do actually have work to do, Val.”
The muscle in Valentino’s jaw jumped at that. “Not a fucking option.”
“That’s not up to you,” Vox’s voice took on a dangerous edge of distortion, “We’re done.”
Val drew up to his full height at that, looming threatenly over Vox, but Vox was strategically keeping his oversized desk between them. No more.
Val let out a vicious laugh, stepping around the desk. “So what amorsito, you go on one little date with that fuzzy-eared snack and suddenly you think you’re too fucking good for me? That prissy twink that will hardly let you touch him? Talk about a fucking downgrade compared to this.” Valentino reached out to run a hand down his chest, still trying to corner Vox, only to frown when Vox shoved his hand away. “Oh so that’s how it is, you think being sex starved and miserable is going to be a good look for you, huh? I always knew you were stupid, Vox, but—”
Vox caught his wrist in an iron grip. “No. I’ve had enough. I'm not doing this anymore. I’m tired of you taking every little thing that doesn’t go your way out on me!”
“Oh you ungrateful little—”
The crackling static was rolling off him now. “I said NO.” The distortion in his voice was almost deafening as he growled, “We’re. Done. Valentino. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
The hissing cables surged, shoving Valentino back out into the hallway, before locking the door in his face.
Val slammed a fist into the wall outside his office.
“You fucking little bitch! I’m going to make you regret this! You’re not getting away that easily, Vox. I promise.”
It was only once his storming footsteps and mutterings began to fade up the hall, did Vox finally exhale an unsteady breath, feeling flushed and shaky all over. Slightly dazed, he collapsed back into his chair as the adrenaline of his actions bled out of him.
He couldn’t help the short laugh of disbelief that burst forth. He finally did it.
Vox wasn’t sure how much time had passed staring hollow-eyed at the wall in front of him. This should have made him feel better, but he only felt carved out with dread. What came now? He still shared a building –a business– with the enraged man that would now, no doubt, be out for his blood. He still had to face him. He still wasn’t free. Why did he let Alastor talk him into this death sentence? How was this better?
What the hell am I doing?
The burning tightness in his chest bubbled up again and almost blinding spots danced across his screen. Internally, he warred between completely shutting down again and fighting against the truly insane urge of wanting to go throw himself into Alastor’s arms. He both sought that protective distance he knew would shield his soft vulnerabilities and yet paradoxically longed for the emotional solace in someone dependable.
Dependable?
The chilling thought stole into his mind reminding him that what they had wasn’t actually real. He could not afford to forget that. Why was he so desperate to reach for a man who made it clear he was only here for his own entertainment?
Did he think somehow he could magically make him love him?
He hadn’t really thought this through well at all. Why was he still so quick to succumb to Alastor’s false sweetnesses just because he deemed to spare him a passing glance? It was reckless and stupid. He was really just trading one silver tongued demon for another. Why was that awareness not enough to deter him?
It was a bitter irony that despite the empire of control that he had built, he was the one so easily manipulated by little more than a damn crumb of kindness. From yet another man who would never love him.
Vox sighed tiredly, dragging himself upright.
Vel was right, love was for fools and idiots in this place. And yet here he stupidly was.
Why was he still so willing to get his heart broken again?
But the temptation of the unknown was too much to turn away from.
Chapter 7: If We Stumble, Where Do We Land?
Notes:
In the second scene, Vox talks about the psychological impacts of Valentino's abuse and a brief mention of suicidal thoughts, but overall a much lighter chapter. We're out of the most graphic depictions of physical abuse.
Chapter Text
“Sooo Alastor , not to pry, buuut you’ve been spending a lot of time with Vox. And I was just wondering, when are you going to bring him around to formally introduce himself? No pressure of course, but I’m just so excited for you!” Charlie chirped, leaning enthusiastically against his doorframe.
Why had he agreed to Charlie’s open door policy again?
Alastor fondly rolled his eyes as he continued to fix his hair in the mirror. “Charlie dear, we’ve been on five dates, hardly anything worth getting this worked up about.”
“About to be six!”
He sighed, there was no simple way to get out of this. Though there was something impressive about her unflappable optimism —even if it was so frequently misplaced.
“I dunno freaky face, goin’ on five dates wit’ a guy sounds pretteh serious ta me.” Angel interjected glibly, deciding to join Charlie in badgering him.
Alastor scoffed, donning his suit jacket, “Such standards are hardly surprising coming from someone who definitely would have painted their knees.”
Angel gave him a surprised look before breaking into a grin.
“Now if you both would be so kind, I do actually have somewhere to be.” Alastor huffed, giving his bowtie a final straighten, before eyeing the two of them expectantly.
Charlie was absolutely beaming at him now. “Have so much fun tonight, Alastor!”
“Yeah, promise we won’t wait up for ya, doll face!” Angel chuckled over his shoulder continuing his way back to his room.
“Thanks again for walking me home.” Vox looked up from the cobblestones with a bashful openness on his face, “You don’t want to come in for some coffee would you?”
Alastor ran a quick calculation, he should be getting back to the hotel, but agreeing could prove to be valuable.
“Perhaps.” He answered with an aloof smile, “Though I can’t stay too long.”
Vox beamed at him, looking ridiculously childish, though he quickly cleared his throat and tried to smother it as he held open the door for him. “I understand completely. Please come up.”
The interior of the tower was precisely what he would have expected of their brand’s bombastic pageantry; however, it was interesting to note that amongst the floors of departments and meeting rooms, the upper floors seemed to be dedicated solely to the Vee’s private living quarters.
“Please come in. Have a seat anywhere.”
Alastor took in his flat and rolled his eyes. It looked like a tacky aquarium gift shop. Coming from this useless imbecile, his lack of taste was hardly surprising.
He neatly settled into the armchair beside the sofa, while Vox eagerly bopped off into the kitchen to prepare their drinks. Idly glancing around, Alastor was momentarily distracted by an offendedly garish children’s blanket messily thrown over the arm of the sofa. He was grateful for the temporary respite from conversation, saving him the embarrassment of having to admit that he was too preoccupied by the hideous article to keep up with what was said.
Minutes later Vox returned and Alastor politely accepted the proffered cup as Vox settled on the sofa near him.
“So you all live here then?” Alastor inquired, attempting to not lose focus on his reason for agreeing to all of this.
“Well, Vel and I do. She has the floor above me —better view she claims— though I think she’s full of it. But it's just us, the only saving grace is that he never chose to have his own flat here when we built this place, only his office.”
Drat. Well so much for that.
“Speaking of, things have been alright for you as of late, yes?”
Vox frowned, glancing down into his cup. “Honestly, things have been really difficult lately, but that’s not your problem to deal with.”
“It’s okay if you need to talk about it. As I said, I have a fair amount of experience dealing with this.” The words launched out of his mouth reflexively and Alastor wondered if he could ever lose that instinctive compulsion to comfort abuse survivors.
It’s not that he especially cared about the people, but it was still something he felt obligated to do; to be the person he was too young to be for the person in his life who had deserved that support more than anyone.
“That is surprising, coming from you.” His voice was a soft whisper, setting aside his cup.
“Abuse is no laughing matter. It’s one I’ve always taken very seriously.” Alastor inwardly shook those thoughts away; no good would come from dwelling on those memories again.
Vox offered him an appreciative, but barely there smile, before his shoulders slumped in a sigh.
“I just can’t help but feel like I’ve made a mistake by leaving. That I’ve made things worse for myself.”
Alastor frowned, but said nothing, though Vox seemed to take that as a mark against himself.
“Let me clarify, I’m not blaming you at all, I know it was the right thing to do, and I appreciate the reality check. I needed it. But it’s still so complicated and messy and I feel so stupid having gotten myself in this situation to begin with. I can’t help but feel like I deserved it.”
Alastor opened his mouth to refute that, but Vox continued before he could.
“You don’t have to say it. I know that’s an unhealthy thought to have. It’s hard not to feel hopeless when you feel trapped though, you know?”
Alastor internally grimaced at that, though his face was carefully blank as he sipped at his coffee.
“I was so desperate to get away from him, but I never knew how to get out with our lives being so heavily intertwined. Still don’t, honestly. Sometimes, I contemplated just walking out into the streets on Extermination Day hoping one of the Angels would just finally end it all.”
Alastor could only look at him uncomfortably as Vox continued to address his lap. Every time it was always the same. The walls and sofas would change, but never the repercussions. The outpouring of fragile emotions never got any easier to console, but each time it was never something he could just walk away from.
At least there was something she would still be proud of.
“I’m terrified at the way he looks at me if he passes me in the hallways. Intentionally reminding me that he’s still around. That he can still hurt me.” Vox took an unsteady breath and Alastor found himself re-settling down on the sofa beside him. “I don’t ever think I’ll be fully free from him. Why did I think I could get away?” Vox curled in on himself in every sense.
Something twinged in his chest witnessing this idiot brokenly gaze off into nothing. It was such a departure from the person he had known.
“You would be if he was dead.” Alastor offered not unkindly, carefully draping the stupid shark blanket across his shoulders. “You could finally have a chance to be happy. Start over.”
Vox’s head slumped forward and it brushed against Alastor’s shoulder.
“Would this be okay?”
“I’ll allow it.”
Vox laid his head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”
He could feel the warmth of his monitor bleeding through his jacket and it was all at once distracting.
“Thanks, Alastor.” Vox added softly, surprising him. “For being here. It helped.”
Hmmm, and if that didn’t give him an odd stab of accomplishment.
What was he doing? He didn’t actually care if this idiot was happy or not. There was no personal stake in this for him. He could not allow himself to lose sight of that. This was transactional.
Alastor was pleased to find the streets largely deserted when he finally was able to excuse himself from Vox's company. He needed a moment to untangle his snarled thoughts. He was privately rather upset when he learned that the flat-screened imbecile did not actually share a building of residence with his mark, like he had hoped. But, further learning the layout of the tower could still prove useful.
Valentino’s studio however, was easy enough to find. The man was unaware of the existence of the word subtle.
He tucked himself into the shadows, taking a moment to quietly observe. Too few people today appreciate the artfulness in a well executed murder. It was a disappointing fact.
The evening’s production appeared to be wrapping up as people began to trickle out of the front doors. What finally caught his attention was their memorable spider guest exiting, stretching with a sigh —on his way back to the hotel, no doubt.
He lingered there for a few moments more, before a glint in the alleyway drew his eye to the all too familiar figure emerging from the darkness proceeding the same direction. His movements showed evident predatory intent, and Alastor inwardly tsked, how sloppy, inelegant. No sense of style.
But beggars could hardly be choosers for entertainment.
Now what precisely are you up to, Valentino?
“Why are you subjecting me to this again?” Alastor groused, settling further back into the lounge sofa. It was an oddly quiet day at the hotel, and somehow Vox managed to talk him into sitting through the opening processionals for an awards showcase or some such nonsense. For fun.
Vox grinned at him stupidly with an unbothered shrug, “You like music and petty drama. And they even hand out miniature gramophones as awards. I thought you’d appreciate the nod to nostalgia.” This was one of the most pointless things he’d ever been subjected to, and he had even participated in Charlie’s share and sculpt activity last week.
Alastor rolled his eyes at the man sitting beside him. “You’re an idiot.”
“So you like to remind me.” Vox chuckled. “What do you think of that outfit with the feathers?”
“That it proves yet another clear advantage of the radio.” Alastor scoffed, eyeing the garment distastefully. “At least then we are not subjected to the odious visual assault of such poor fashion.” He added, gesturing in lamentation at the screen.
“Oh come on, that look isn’t that bad.”
“Really Vox, you cannot be serious, right now?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Vox huffed.
“So, says the man in the sweater vest. It is a wonder anyone takes you seriously at all.” Alastor waved a flippant hand at him.
“What’s wrong with my look!” Vox shot back, looking equal parts indignant and amused. He was ridiculous.
“Everything.”
“Vel would never let me be seen with her looking stupid.”
“Pity that logic fails every time you step in front of a screen.” Alastor hummed, rolling his eyes.
“Alastor, why you!”
A wicked smile crept onto his face as he leaned forward into Vox’s space, blatantly goading the absurd picture box, “Hmm, why I what ?” He smirked, radiating a palatable smugness. “Your ensemble may be laughable, but is a far cry better than the current degeneracy of waist overalls and glorified undershirts. Take comfort that you are marginally less offensive than them.”
The smallest hint of red seemed to creep onto Vox’s cheeks before an unreadable expression took over his features. How odd.
Vox abruptly cleared his throat, putting more distance between them. “O–oh, I just remembered Alastor, I need to be somewhere. I’ve gotta go. I— I’ll see you later, okay? Goodnight!” And with that, he nearly bolted out of the room.
“Vox?” He stared in absolute confusion at the sudden about face. Alastor felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach at watching his fleeing coat tails vanish out of view.
What the hell just happened? He clearly missed something.
And it bothered him that he felt… well he couldn’t quite place what he felt, and that bothered him even more. He was not someone who dealt in uncertainties.
Fuck fuck fuck. Vox slammed the door behind him with more force than necessary. How am I ever going to keep it together around him, when every time I see that smug little grin, all I can think about is plowing that gorgeous antlered twink into his mattress?
Vox miserably collapsed onto his sofa, unbuttoning his trousers. Groaning at the relief of pressure.
But he’ll hardly let me even put an arm around his damn shoulders. It’s maddening. It’s torture. All it does is make me want him even more. To touch him in anyway he would permit me to. Why the fuck did I think this could work? That brilliant man is far too hot for his own fucking good. And I don’t even think he realizes it!
It’s just— he has to know! He walks into every room like he owns it, assured and cavalier. How is he not doing it on purpose? Every time he insults me, I fall for him a little more. I want him more. He has to know that sex appeal sells anything. And fuck could he sell anything.
I saw him take his overcoat off for the first time the other day, and it took everything in me not to just drag him into the nearest closet then and there.
Fuck!
But consent should be important in a relationship and I fucking promised. Fuck, I want this to work, but he’s so goddamn delicious! What am I going to do?
He whimpered, just then picturing the man of his dreams pinning him down on the sofa, a tendril of magic restraining his hand above his head and a sharp claw curled around his throat. He threw his head back as surging relief flooded through him. He would kill for that to be real.
Lying there, his sigh of frustration echoed in the silence of his empty flat.
I know I love him. And I’m so desperate to keep him. But can I really be content with just this?
What am I going to do?
Sometimes, it didn’t matter how long he showered, he still couldn’t get his mind to settle and that only added to his frustration. Usually he could just channel that restlessness into his work, but even that was proving challenging as of late and his deadlines were suffering— though he was the only one who knew that.
And yet, he couldn’t care less about them any time Alastor would show up unannounced; happy to set his work aside for him. He probably should worry about that at some point. But Papermint had yet to comment on his change in work habits, so it must not be too noticeable from the outside… either that or his loyal assistant was too intimidated to dare point it out. He really was the best employee he had, perhaps he ought to give him a raise.
Vox was absently scrolling through his phone when Velvette flopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh. “Voxxy babe, what are you doing? You’re obsessing again.”
Distractedly, Vox mumbled, “I am not.” Though he was clearly a thousand miles off in thought.
“Fine. I’m going to run off with your little assistant and get hitched in the Lust Ring.”
“Okay, have fun, Vel.” He waved his hand supportively at her.
“Vox!” She pinched his bicep.
“What?” That finally successfully pulled him out of his reverie, rubbing his arm.
“You weren’t even listening to me! You’ve been sitting here all morning, mopin’ like a lost puppy! You’ve hardly spent a day apart from ‘im in over a month and now you're acting like you don’t know what to do with yourself. It’s a little pathe’ic.”
Huh, he hadn’t even realized that.
Vox set his phone aside, turning to her with a playful grin, “Awe, are you jealous now, Vel?”
“Pffft, you wish. I just miss bitchin’ with you.” She huffed, before softening, “But for real, Voxxy, I’m just worried that you’re running away from your problems again. You really think the likes of ‘im are gonna save you? Depression doesn’t work like that, babe.”
“Vel, I promise I’m not. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I don’t even have plans made with Alastor today.” A bright grin broke out across his face as he affectionately took her hand, “Wanna go shopping and shame people’s fashion choices?”
She huffed at him, still upset, though it was obvious that it was melting back into fondness, “You’re paying.”
He deserved that, he consented, still smiling, “Fine, but only if we also get bubble tea.”
“I’ve missed you, fuck head.” She sighed, curling into his side.
Vox leaned into her affectionate gesture, determined to not abandon his dearest friend again. “I’ve missed you too. Now go and put on something cute.”
She shoved him away at that. “Rude. I’m always fucking cute.”
Alastor was not entirely expecting the ill-mannered socialite to be the one to throw open the door in a huff.
“Nope. Mope all ya want, Bitchy Bambi, but I’m stealin’ ‘im today. You can fuck off. Now shoo.”
Alastor arched a scandalized eyebrow at her. “A simple hello would have sufficed, Velvette. You should be very grateful I do not hit women.”
“Alastor!” Vox walked into his living room, grinning, adjusting his cufflinks. “I tried to call the hotel, but you weren’t in and you still don’t have a cell phone for some reason.”
This idiot and his obsession with technology.
“I hardly see the use of the things.”
“Pfft, you should’ve sent a carrier pigeon.” Velvette rolled her eyes.
“Vel—” Vox placed a hand on her shoulder, making a laudable effort to keep the peace, “Vel is kidnapping me for shopping and mischief today. I haven’t been spending enough time with her.” He grinned down at her, looping an arm around her waist.
Alastor felt…something at that. He internally frowned over the unnameable sensation, though he kept it well hidden off his face. “That is perfectly acceptable, Vox. You’re not going to hurt my feelings. I shall see you later, yes?”
Vox gave him a fond yet sheepish smile, “Coffee tomorrow morning at the café?”
“Of course. Have fun today, Vox.” Alastor offered him a little wave, before making his way back down to the street level, feeling slightly disoriented.
Hmmm, what shall I do with my day instead?
Alastor’s posture broadcasted amusement as he pulled Vox through the city streets. “The girls have insisted upon a formal introduction, and I’m afraid my hands are absolutely tied.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Vox eyed him warily, as they approached the hotel.
“Absolutely not, but yet here we are.” Alastor grinned, opening the door for him, “After you.” He sing-songed.
He was immediately met by one of the most chipper smiles in all of Hell. “Hi Vox! Welcome!”
Vox nodded his head politely at their delusional —but seemingly well intentioned— future ruler. “Good evening, Princess.”
“Pleaaase, call me Charlie.” Princess Morningstar jutted out her hand to shake his enthusiastically before gesturing to each of the other two women in turn. “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie, and this is Niffty.”
“Nice to meet you all.” Vox waved awkwardly at the three women. Each of them regarded his arrival very differently and it left him feeling quite out of his depth on what to expect.
"Ooh, you finally brought home the bad boy.” The small woman called Niffty, rubbed her hands together, eyeing him with manic glee.
"Uh what?" Vox bewilderedly looked to Alastor who merely shrugged in ‘a what do you do motion,’ before breaking into an amused smirk.
Unsurprisingly, Princess Morningstar was the first to break the awkward uncertainty that followed. “Sooo Vox,” Charlie sidled up to him, wrapping a mildly threatening arm around his shoulder, “Have you been taking good care of our Alastor?”
“Charlie.” Alastor quietly sighed, pinching his temple in annoyance.
“I— I’ve certainly been trying my best, but I feel like you should be asking Alastor that.” Vox smiled at him bashfully. He hated how much he would have loved to hear Alastor’s honest answer. But he knew Hell would sooner freeze over.
“Pfft, like he’d ever share an emotion.” Vaggie scoffed, rolling her eye. Well she definitely got it.
“So, uhh your hotel looks nice…” Vox offered uncomfortably. Alastor was absolutely loving this. Hot bastard.
Charlie beamed at him, bouncing up onto her toes as she spoke. Where did all that energy come from? “Thank you! We’re so excited about what we’re trying to do here. You don’t know anybody that might be interested, do you?”
Vox chuckled, clasping his hands behind him for want of something to do to hide his nerves. “I’m afraid not, Prin— Charlie. My work keeps me very busy.”
“Ooh, a tall and handsome CEO who only has time for work and love. You’re spicy, but you better not hurt him, or I’ll fill your shoes with roaches— And they may not be all dead.” Niffty grinned threateningly.
What?
Vox carefully kept his expression a mask of artful pleasantness in the face of the creatively…unsettling… threat. “But of course. I would expect nothing less.” He smiled genially at Alastor’s clearly unhinged companion.
“Good.” She nodded, seeming pleased by the exchange.
“What about you? Are you going to threaten me now too?” Vox turned to Vaggie with a chuckle.
“I could give a shit about Alastor’s relationship drama, but uhh welcome I guess.” Vaggie shrugged.
“Fair enough. I appreciate you having me.” Vox smiled at her. Apathy he knew how to handle… But really, roaches?
Something warmed in his chest at catching a hint of fondness in Alastor’s eyes as Princess Charlie excitedly whispered something to him. He knew Alastor couldn’t be all stone, but he also knew he’d deny every part of it if anyone ever dared point it out.
“Sure. It’s kinda what we do here.” Vaggie drew his attention back to her.
And if today wasn’t already odd enough, now the small, strange woman was…sniffing his pant leg? Just why?
"I like him, Alastor.” She nodded approvingly, scuttling up to his amused date before he rejoined him at his side. “He smells clean."
Well , he’d certainly had weirder days. Though this was definitely shaping up to be an honorable mention.
But if enduring some strangeness from Alastor’s friends was what was needed to keep the man of his dreams, there were definitely worse bargains out there.
“Come on,” Alastor nudged him toward the stairs, finally deeming to intervene.
He loved coming up here to think, especially after dark. Somehow it always helped his mind feel clearer and it was nice to steal a moment away from the gregarious chaos of the group inside. It was nice to just let his mind wander.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Vox looked over at him, comfortably leaning against the balcony railing.
“Honestly,” Alastor chuckled, “It’s a touch silly, but étouffée. I could kill to eat that right now.”
“I’ve never had it.”
Alastor couldn’t help his emphatic disbelief. Even now, food culture still held a special fondness for him. “Never? It’s positively delightful! At some point, I shall just have to cook it for you then. I still remember my mother’s recipe for it.”
Vox just stared at him, some strange emotion flashing across his face. What an odd reaction to a genuine offer. He wasn’t even thinking of poisoning it. Vox’s screen glazed over momentarily before he clenched his fists tightly and pointedly looked away.
“What?” Alastor tilted his head, feeling once more like he clearly missed something.
“You’re just really fucking hot, okay?” Vox sighed in frustration, seeming to be putting considerable effort into keeping his twitching hands to himself. He tilted his head back, before confessing with a groan, “And I’m fighting the urge to be wildly inappropriate.”
Oh . Alastor stalled, giving him a look warring between bewildered and impressed. He felt oddly flattered that the notoriously insatiable overlord standing beside him, was making a very obvious show of honoring the line he had drawn in the sand.
He had to admit though, he enjoyed seeing Vox reduced to the flustered static that was rolling off of him in waves. Something about it inexplicably drew him in. With a wicked grin, he shifted closer to where Vox was leaning against the railing.
There was a palatable degree of smugness when he whispered in his ear, “So you’re saying you want to touch me?”
“You have no fucking idea.” Vox’s voice came out in a strangled laugh, unable to make eye contact, as he gazed out at Pentagram City.
“Dance with me then.” Alastor snapped his fingers, and a small radio appeared playing a slow melody.
“Wha— what?” At that, Vox’s eyes snapped to his, incredulity painting his features.
Calm as anything, Alastor’s hand gripped Vox’s waist, pulling him into the center of the balcony. The stunned static buzzing under his fingers only made his grin widen at how obviously charged Vox was. The rush of power was mildly intoxicating, and he savored the heady sensation coursing through him as he continued to pull Vox’s stumbling limbs along.
After a moment, he finally broke the silence, “I cannot even begin to fathom what debaucheries are currently going through that mind of yours. Undoubtedly far too sordid for my tastes, I’m sure. But your obvious endeavors to respect my boundaries and not just take what you want is quite meaningful to me.”
This close to one another, it was difficult for Vox to continue to avoid his eye. Vox’s eyes finally met his as he fell in time with the music. There was an unmistakable earnesty in the warm, aching twist of Vox’s expression, and Alastor was caught off guard by the softness in his next words, “I think the world of you, Alastor.”
“I may absolutely want you, but I couldn’t bear to hurt you like that.” Vox added, almost inaudibly. Alastor could feel the surge of heat radiating from his screen, bleeding warmth onto his own chilled face. It was remarkably soothing, he decided.
“You continue to surprise me, Vox.” Alastor replied, quietly shocked, before they both relaxed into their companionable swaying to the radio.
bipbopdepmop on Chapter 1 Mon 03 Feb 2025 05:05AM UTC
Comment Actions
bipbopdepmop on Chapter 6 Mon 03 Feb 2025 08:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
bipbopdepmop on Chapter 6 Mon 03 Feb 2025 08:03AM UTC
Comment Actions
SapphireNightshade on Chapter 6 Mon 03 Feb 2025 03:18PM UTC
Last Edited Mon 03 Feb 2025 03:19PM UTC
Comment Actions