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The first time Vox had heard Valentino talk about having a boyfriend, he had seriously taken it as a joke. Mostly because they had already slept together by then, more than once, and the ease in which that had happened had made Vox assume Valentino was definitely fair game. But apparently Valentino was in an ‘open relationship’ ( Vox was coming to terms with all kinds of new social innovations) with a ‘boyfriend’, about whom the moth talked much more sweetly than his whores and also seethed about with much more personal vitriol than his whores.
“Oooh! You should meet Angel Cakes!” Valentino offered one night, not really out of the blue because he had just been gushing about how cute this guy looked in the lingerie Valentino had gifted him.
Vox and Valentino were spending the night catching up on their endeavours. They were at one club Valentino was in the middle of taking over, under the nose of the unassuming owner. He had already shmoozed the majority of the staff to sign their soul over to him as protection from their scary boss. It was a nice establishment, with private booths.
Vox finished chewing the piece of ice from his drink that had been keeping his gnashing teeth busy. “I’m good. Let’s get back to talking about the porno with the mist. The one I lent you the fog machines for?”
“Uggh! That’s boring!” Valentino whined, because he was still reshooting scenes and because he was way behind the payment he had promised Vox in exchange for the fog machines. But Vox wisely let it slide. He could give Valentino another couple of weeks: the movie looked promising, a certified cash cow in the making, and one of Valentino’s hands was massaging the inside of Vox’s thigh.
“You’re missing out. Angel is fun. He’s not as good as me, but he’s getting there. He gave me a tit job yesterday, it felt like fucking one of those fancy ass pillows, the ones with the feathers!” Val swiped the start of drool from the corner of his mouth, while dreamily reminiscing. He absentmindedly put the thumb he had cleaned the drool with in Vox’s mouth, out of habit, even if it didn’t work on the TV sinner.
Vox turned his head away from the intruding finger “I’m not having a threesome with you and your ‘boyfriend’.” He spat the last word out, his collected nonchalance slipping just there.
Valentino clicked his tongue, never giving up on his horny ideas once he had convinced himself he wanted them to happen. “Well, that’s a waste. You’re basically built for them.” Valentino leaned in and groped the shark-like anatomy in between Vox’s legs. “Admit it, you like the idea~” The moth insisted, swaying his hips playfully while feeling how hard the members already were. Vox grabbed that pesky hand, sending the tiniest tingle of electricity through it as a warning for the three other hands ready to replace it.
“Unlike you, I don’t need to have sex with everyone and everything that’s available. Your Angel sounds like a brain-dead moron.” After all, Valentino himself had told Vox about the times he had found him passed out in some random location, at Valentino’s place or even in the street, after snorting himself into needing to regenerate back to life.
Vox expected Valentino to get angry, because he had just insulted his precious Angel Cakes, or because Vox had subtly threatened Valentino, or just because Vox had told him no about his freaky sex idea. Instead Valentino raised a single brow in sincere confusion “You don’t like bimbos?” He asked, like he actually didn’t understand what Vox was saying.
The sudden unexpected self awareness made Vox let go of his hand, which ended up right where it had left, grinding with the heel of the hand and forcing Vox to lock his throat not to groan at the feeling. “Whatever. Once you see him you’ll beg to jump in bed with us.” Val dismissed the refusal.
Vox rolled his eyes, having seen plenty of attractive sinners go at it with Valentino on cameras (both from films and not) and having never felt the need to join. On that note… “I can extend the lease for the equipment for another week if you agree to raise my percentage of the earnings to 60%.” Vox said, a bit colder than usual.
Valentino sweetly smiled, as if he was deaf instead of almost blind, crowding Vox’s space, fluffy antennas caressing the corners of Vox’s cumbersome TV head. “I guess I can take care of you by myself tonight.”
The first time they met in person, Vox understood the appeal better. Still, it felt like he was meeting Valentino again but just wrong. Maybe it was just what demons with hard to figure out sexes registered like to Vox.
“You must be mistah Vox.” Angel Dust had opened the door to Valentino’s apartment, instead of Valentino, who Vox was expecting to see because Valentino had told him to come because there was an emergency he needed him for. Angel Dust’s shoulders were perfectly relaxed against the door frame, slender delicate fingers teasing circles on the wood in a flirty manner, an extra pair of arms hugging his narrow hips, and infinitely long legs crossed at the ankle to add playfulness. “Well, come on in. What are you waiting for out ‘dere in da cold?” Angel asked, laying it on thick and curling a finger to motion Vox to come in.
Vox groaned, moving past the sinner without much care and walking inside the apartment. “Where’s the emergency?” Vox asked, about the emergency that didn’t exist. He heard Angel Dust behind him complain because he basically shoved him aside.
There was Valentino, on a chaise lounge inside the flamboyantly coordinated abode. Seeing the moth sinner so soon after seeing his white fluffy clone at the door, made things click in Vox’s head why Angel Dust felt like a poorly done copy of his friend/fuck-buddy/business partner. Valentino was irate, fuming, also literally because he was at the very last remains of a cigarette he was smoking with anger. There was the underlying danger and violence that made Valentino who he was that Vox had found lacking in the other sinner.
“There.” Val pointed one finger somewhere behind him without looking.
Apparently it wasn’t just a trick to make Vox meet his boyfriend. Vox cringed, Valentino’s personal TV was cracked beyond repair with the tv remote lodged so deep inside its middle that it was barely visible.Vox remembered gifting that television, a little pick me up for Val for having to help Vox with a number of deer related turf wars. Vox felt the corner of his own head absentmindedly.
“I can’t fix that.” Vox said. Valentino usually asked him for help to deal with technology, he was very cute when he pouted because he didn’t understand how to recuperate the footage he had recorded over, or how to call back the last number called on the phone.
“I know.” The venom in Valentino’s voice wasn’t aimed at Vox who couldn’t do what he wanted though. It was aimed behind Vox.
“I’m sorry about dat.” Angel Dust’s heels clicked on the floor until a soft carpet muffled the sound. “Val said I should make it up to you.” There was hesitation in Angel’s voice, under the saccarine inflection, it took a second longer for him to land a soft little hand on Vox’s shoulder, inviting with a squeeze to the way he wanted to ‘make it up to him’. Vox slapped that hand away and Angel retracted it with a hiss. “Hey!” Angel shouted.
“Just buy Val a new one.” Vox said nonchalantly as he turned around with an air of superiority to look at this supposed boyfriend (he wished he could have looked down on the lanky freak, but alas he also copied that aspect from Valentino). Vox did not want to participate in repairing this debt. And there was no way Valentino’s junky of a boyfriend could afford anything close to the nice, latest model Vox had spoiled Valentino with.
Angel Dust massaged his hand, as if Vox had even hit him that hard. The spider sinner looked pissed, but he turned his eight eyes away from Vox and towards Valentino. “I ain’t buying him a new one! He threw da remote and missed. I agreed to sleep with you only so he would stop sulking like a big baby.”
Vox felt the air in the room tense up in anticipation. He quickly shifted his eyes back and forth, from one bug to the other. Maybe he was in for a show, maybe he wasn’t going to waste his evening completely. He actively stopped a hint of pixelated saliva to escape his mouth.
Val’s shoulders rose, he balled himself more on the chaise lounge, sinking into it while he repressed himself from reacting.
Angel Dust didn’t seem to freeze like Vox had. He just kept talking, flailing his hands so much one could have known his upbringing had it not been spoiled already by the ugly accent. “I said no. You” Angel pointed at Valentino “Said he was fun even if he wasn’t a looker, so I would agree. And now he’s here and he’s a square.” Angel Dust now rudely pointed at Vox, at the very big square thing that defined him.
Vox felt his insides stir, electricity licked at his claws as he wondered if it was worth it to take offense from a whore finding him ‘not fun enough’. Valentino was a migraine and a half when Vox broke his toys, even worse when Vox broke his toys for him. One thing that suggested to Vox there would be no need to react was that he saw how Valentino’s usual trigger finger itched. As if he would have shot then and there had a weapon been in his hands. The smoke that had come out of the cigarette Valentino had smoked until now danced along the ground, lapping at Angel Dust’s heeled feet.
But nothing happened. Vox waited in anticipation for the violence he was accustomed to see from his hot headed friend but that violence never came. Valentino just looked at Angel Dust, made a face and let his shoulders drop. “It’s not my fucking fault prying kinks out of Vox’s closeted ass is hard.”
Vox got distracted from building indignation because Valentino got out of the chaise lounge with a single long languid move. A few strides and he was past Vox as if he didn’t exist and instead was over by Angel Dust, cooing and cupping his cheeks. “I’m sorry for throwing the remote, I don’t know what got into me and I almost hit you. I wanted to make it up to you with some hot new sex, but it looks like that’s not going to happen.” Valentino whined. The smoke rose upwards, following the air moved by Valentino and the swishing fur of his coat near the ground. It dissipated into the tiniest strands after forming its signature hearts. Some of it tickled right under Angel Dust's nose.
A pair of Angel Dust’s hands cupped Valentino’s, another pair reached the taller demon’s waist, so softly to convey forgiveness. “That’s okay. It doesn’t hafta be new sex, our usual sex is already pretty hot.” Angel Dust laughed the stupidest, dorkiest little laugh.
Right as Valentino dove in for a kiss to seal the reconciliation, Vox cleared his throat to interrupt. Valentino looked at him like he was the one being rude.
“Right. I’m going now. Don’t call me again to have me… uhh” Vox gesticulated at the pair of bug sinners hugging each other so goddamn close. Vox was uncomfortable, Valentino was gripping Angel Dust ass so hard the spider sinner was standing on his toes.
“You’re such a prude.” Dismissively, Angel Dust rested his cheek on Val’s ample pectorals. It appeared like that was another difference between him and Valentino, because the moth sinner instead had a knowing smile on, his antenna twitching to smell the air in Vox direction. “Don’t be rude Angie. Vox puts out fine when he is in the right mood.”
Vox wouldn’t call it a retreat, but he still left the apartment in haste, not quickly enough to not hear the sounds of tongues mingling wetly. He slammed the door and heard Val shout and complain about it while Vox zapped into the building’s security system. It would have cut his time in half had Valentino’s apartment also been equipped with cameras. That was a great idea actually, maybe he could install something whenever he bought Val his new television set. He needed to close himself in the bathroom first. Then he could think about the cameras.
“You’re being such a bitch.” Valentino murmured, he threw a dart and it somehow hit the bullseye. The moth still had to step close enough to touch the dart board to see how he had scored.
“Am I now? I’d say that not keeping your end of a deal is way more of a bitch behaviour.” Vox grumbled. He barely waited for Valentino to step away from the board to throw his darth and got a meagre amount of points. Vox sat down with a huff on the ratty couch of the ratty bar’s game room. It was only them there. Angel Dust was busy.
“What’s another week to you? Fuck you need a fog machine for?” Valentino said, slurring his words from all the cocktails he had downed, then he traced the hem of his short, short skirt with one of his claws. “More importantly, why do you keep pushing me away tonight?”
Vox just glared at Valentino. It was possible that Valentino was just so stupid to not notice that there were starting to pop up more and more items that didn’t belong to Valentino in his apartment. That Valentino had filmed only scenes with Angel Dust lately. That every time they had seen each other lately there was always that white fluffy whore dangling from Valentino’s arm. In public. Without a care in the world to who saw them.
Valentino’s face fell. “Don’t tell me… you convinced yourself you’re straight again?”
“No. I’m just not in the mood.” Vox looked away, focusing on his clenched fist. He was really fucking pent up actually. Valentino probably knew, because he insisted he could smell boners or something. But while Vox would have loved to slam himself into Valentino’s thigh hole, bending him over the pool table in the middle of the room, Vox’s imagination lately… during his private moments with his fisted hand… there were a lot of vivid images of ripping Valentino’s wings until he couldn’t fly away anymore and keeping him still in place with a tangle of wires, pinned, maybe choking him a little. Then Vox would force him to watch while he gutted his precious Angel Dust like a fish. Vox would do it with his own claws, break open in two that slender ribcage and throw the organs on the ground so he could step on them and pulverize them.
Suddenly Vox found himself with a lapful of heavily perfumed, clingy moth “Don’t lieee!” Valentino whined, one pair of arms circled Vox's shoulders, the other pair went to pet his head with sloppy affection “Are you getting tired of me, papi?” He whispered. Valentino was drunker than Vox had thought. He squirmed on Vox's lap, causing Vox to blush a brighter blue and Valentino to then squish his face against the brighter source of light like he did when he was very out of it.
“That’s not-” Vox tried to comfort the upset moth but Valentino ignored his words, too focused on the way Vox's body gave him more favourable reactions. “I keep offering. I keep throwing myself at you.”The more Valentino spoke the more his voice went from bitchy whiny to bitchy angry, his pats and caresses morphing into an angry pull on Vox's antennas enough to hurt ”We haven't tried anything new in ages and now you don't even want to do the basic shit we always do!¿Por qué carajo me ignoras?!” The moth was now an angry drunk, furious enough to squeak.
“That’s because all the new sex shit you offer to do has to involve fucking Angel Dust!” Vox was not supposed to scream that at Valentino. But Valentino was screaming at his face, so the argument spurred Vox's instincts in the worst direction. He expected Valentino to scream back at him. Call him a boring old man with boring old man taste. Or spew angry Spanish.
Instead Valentino’s mouth closed (incredible) and formed a thin line while his antennae flopped back and forth. He then smiled, so wide his large ruby eyes had to squint. “Are you jealous?" He teased.
“Why would I be fucking jealous?” Vox wanted that train of thought inside Valentino's empty head to stop immediately. He was not jealous. He couldn’t be since they were not in a relationship. They just fucked occasionally, although intensively, more often than anyone else would say occasionally meant, and Vox hadn't fucked anyone that wasn't Valentino since… he couldn’t remember since when right now. Sex wasn't that important to him. He was more career oriented than hedonistic. He wasn't Valentino, who apparently died if he didn’t come multiple times a day.
“Of Angel Dust?!” Valentino dared to laugh, hiding his face in the crook of Vox's shoulder to at least not laugh in his face.
Vox seethed. His denial was ignored and admitting to anything would have been worse. He just shut up and gritted his teeth.
“Babe…” Valentino grabbed his head and flicked an antenna “Voxxie…” He nuzzled his face against the static glass surface like he liked to do “Papi…” The moth was being so fucking condescending.
“What.” One clipped word and Vox was back to gritting his teeth, not responding to the little kisses Valentino was giving him.
Valentino smiled “You and Angel Dust are… two different things.”
Obviously. Vox found absolutely nothing he had in common with the whore, and if there was such a thing he would change it in a heartbeat. “Is that so?” Vox asked, still angry but now craving the confirmation.
“If that wasn't the case, in all these years I've known you" Valentino's hands danced over Vox’s chest “I would have already collared you and gotten your soul under lock and key.” Valentino shifted, fisting Vox's sweater and pulling him forward, aggressive like a threat, smiling and drooling like mania had taken over him.
The threatening display caused a spark between Vox's antennae, suddenly spurred to answer the threat back, compensating their size difference, putting things back on an even level or better: with Vox above him.
But before that had to happen, Valentino melted back to a sweeter self “But I didn't.” He batted his large pupilless eyes innocently.
“Because you can’t.” Vox answered dryly. He let his hands rest on Valentino’s hips, his claws putting very little pressure on the wings on Valentino’s back, he did not need to pierce through them.
Valentino didn't answer Vox's statement. It was the unspoken truth that neither of them had control over the other, being Overlords and with powers that just happened to not work on the respective hellish biology. “I can get you a contract to sign if you want to take Angel Cake's place. We gotta make up for your lack of pole dancing skills though, Angel already knew how to work the pole when we met.”
“He’s… signing his soul over to you?” Vox took in the information. It didn't make as much sense as Valentino pretended it was. Valentino didn't spend MONTHS of LOVEY DOVEY play pretend relationship to ensnare a soul he wanted. They practically threw themselves at him, he just had to give them a taste of what he offered and then the entranced sinners did most of the job, reaching for him for another hit of sweet substance, sex, or attention. Anything to make life in hell bearable.
“Yeah.” Valentino slumped against Vox, a dead weight lighter than one would expect. “He’s got some hang ups about becoming dependent on me. Daddy issues.” Valentino dismissed it, he just didn't understand it. He liked draining people who offered him anything. If you gave him an ich, he’d fit all of himself deep within your ass. Vox supposed Valentino's fucked up homelife back when he had been alive was the reason the moth felt disconnected from Angel Dust’s reasoning.
Vox didn't say anything, just focusing on the legs straddling his lap instead, snapping the elastic of fishnets against the supple flesh.
Valentino didn't have the emotional depth to grasp how him calling and wanting to be called “Daddy”, “Papi”, “Papito” and so on, by people he sucked and fucked was in any way linked to him not even knowing for certain who his sperm donor was.
Vox was never going to point that out.
“He wants a job so he doesn't have to depend on his man. But he’ll only trust an offer from someone that showed he truly cared for him. Like a boyfriend~” Valentino kept rambling, like the unofficial Angel Dust expert. He smirked at the parts he found the most pathetic.
“Is that why it's taking you so long?” Vox asked. They were holding each other so… comfortably.
Valentino hummed “It's also fun to have a challenge.” There was little spec of fondness under Valentino’s words that irked Vox “You know? That thing you said sharks do…” Vantino trailed on with his sentence, distracting himself with the task of removing the suit jacket off Vox’s shoulders.
“Pursuit predation. That’s only the hunting strategy for faster shark species like mako sharks.” Vox answered quickly.
“Wow. So smart.” The sarcasm didn’t land, mostly because Valentino followed it by a deep kiss that pushed Vox’s head back towards the headrest. Vox let their tongue lap at each other, enjoying the fruity flavour of chemical strawberries from Valentino’s saliva for the few seconds it lasted before his internal systems neutralized the venom.
“Another difference is that Angel Dust gets super desperate after he gets a dose of me.” Valentino broke the kiss. He teased the way he knew would piss Vox off while shuffling backwards just enough to unbutton Vox’s pants.
“Shut up.” Vox restarted the kiss. While Valentino pulled his cocks out and drummed his fingers playfully on the bioluminescent tips, Vox rolled up that ridiculous miniskirt, showing the world the lacey underwear that was losing the war against the strain on Valentino’s dick.
“And Angel loves bottoming for me. It doesn’t hurt his masculinity at all.” Valentino broke the kiss again to grin. Vox forced him off him and down on the couch, invading the space between his legs. “Stop talking about him. Now.” Swirls began in Vox’s eye. Valentino just squinted and giggled, raising his hips so Vox could remove his thong. Valentino’s puffy pussy came into full view, with his almost completely unsheathed dick crowing it at the top.
“You know how to make me scream only your name, Voxxie.”
Vox knew Valentino was toying with him. It was hard to tell when that had started, tonight or in general. He breached Valentino’s entrance with his finger, finding him wet.
Valentino licked his lips, inviting Vox in by opening his legs wider. Vox followed the invite, starting with one of his penises and gloating in the moans that followed like praise.
“Nngh. Hurry-” Valentino arched his back. Vox pistoned in and out, quickly. It wasn’t the most comfortable to penetrate Valentino with only one of his cocks: the other felt awkward, sliding on one side on Valentino’s labia and ass, and blocking Vox from bottoming out without crushing it. “Both won’t fit if you don’t get used to one first.” Vox said in between breaths. He was doing it this way for Valentino’s sake, even if the moth was a ridiculously greedy size queen whenever he was bottoming.
“I-I prepped already. They’ll fit. I want both! Hurry up!” Demanding and complaining, Valentino tried to wiggle himself off Vox’s dick, forcing him to keep him still with his cables around his waist. “Stop moving Val.” Vox swatted lightly the side of Valentino’s ass, mostly to underline the kind of dynamic Vox wanted to keep.
It had been too long without sex, Vox had to stop Valentino from causing him to come too soon with unnecessary movements.
Valentino pulled on the cables with his lower hands, forcing Vox closer, deeper. “Put both in or I’ll tear them and use them like a dildo.” Valentino bared his teeth and threatened to do what Vox was certain he was capable of doing.
Vox pulled out, leaving a spittle of precum behind on Valentino’s lips. Then he fisted his penises close together and led them both back in, with the kind of patience he didn’t know he possessed. The stretch made Valentino inhale like he wanted to escape drowning.
“What do we say when we get exactly what we want?” Years of training on broadcasts allowed Vox’s voice not to tremble. Valentino felt tight, he must have lied about prepping beforehand.
“Thank you, papi.” Valentino sobbed. His leg twitched and his claws held dearly on the couch where he gripped desperately.
Vox moved slowly, helped by the gushing lubrication from Valentino’s pussy. He slid deeper and deeper, until he began to see the hint of himself bulging from Valentino’s taunt abdomen. Wild instinct took over and Vox slammed the rest of the way in, forcing a wet cry from Valentino.
“Please-”Valentino outstretched his arms upwards, now asking for comfort in addition to what he had asked for in the first place. But Vox spoiled him this time too, embracing him and kissing away the tears that were threatening to spill.
“Vox!” Valentino shouted, like he said he would, when Vox began to move again. A caring partner would have waited longer, been less forceful in their thrusts. But a caring partner wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place. Valentino would have consumed them before it.
“Vox- Ah!” Valentino shouted in surprise when Vox began to keep him still with his teeth in his shoulder, added to his cables around his waist and claws pushing down on his legs. Valentino pulled him even closer, his dark sharp fingers hooked in Vox’s back after sneaking under his sweater. Vox grunted, it hurt enough to know Valentino was drawing blood from his back. Valentino’s blood in his mouth tasted sweet, it seeped into the gums and numbed them for a second. Nothing about Valentino tasted toxic and bitter.
The sounds from Valentino’s lips became repetitive and nonsensical. Vox tuned them out to focus on the tactile paradise around his dicks. Tight. Warm. Welcoming. A Holy Land to claim that made Vox go feral. So many sinners threw their lives away to serve Valentino and they didn’t even get to feel this. They got to see, maybe touch, and the lucky ones were forced to lick. But deeper in, that was Vox’s territory.
Not even Angel Dust, who thought he was getting Valentino’s love and instead was getting suckered into a long con. Angel Dust didn’t get to see Valentino reduced to a cock hungry whore, begging to be coddled from how overwhelmed he was feeling. He didn’t get to taste Valentino without losing a little piece of himself after every hit of aphrodisiac. He didn’t get to see the brunt of the mania, the tantrums, the destruction and the dependence after it all.
Only Vox did.
Fuck. He came inside.
Thankfully he felt the widening puddle of cum in between their abdomens, the signal that Valentino had also come at the same time.
“You ruined my new top.” Valentino complained, pushing Vox off him to survey the damage to his see through mesh. Vox removed his now flaccid penises from Valentino’s entrance, staring too long at the cum spilling out like a spring from the earth. He had come a lot. Maybe it was just he hadn’t done it in a while. Yeah.
“You owe me a new one. And a new skirt. The leather is ruined.” While the skirt was stained by Vox, the top was stained a sticky pink, definitely Valentino’s ejaculate. The same thing seeping into Vox’s sweater, covering it forever with the smell of sex with Valentino, the kind that stank like rotten fruit once you stopped feeling high.
Valentino didn’t spare a single word about the wound on his shoulder bleeding profusely or the dark rings of skin around his middle blooming under the open mesh of his top.
“Vox?” Valentino tried to get his attention. He had held his attention the whole night. The whole week actually. Vox was behind on three projects for new programs, all because Valentino had wasted his time by calling him to come join him (only for Vox to discover he wasn’t alone).
“Vox!” Now Valentino was full on screeching and squeaking.
Whatever way Vox had looked at him, made Valentino quiet down quickly “I don’t want to be involved in your game with Angel Dust anymore. Do whatever to get his soul and leave me out of it.”
Valentino blushed.
Then Valentino bit his lips. “But you look hot when you get mad.” He twirled the fluffy antenna on his head between long fingers, breaking eye contact and smiling at himself “Like you want to hurt me really bad.”