Chapter Text
Valentino was pissed.
What else was fucking new.
Vox clenched his fist and threw back the last of his old fashioned. Took a deep breath.
“They said we could try again next year, but she’s fully booked for this season, so—”
“I don’t want her next year,” Valentino had to shout to be heard over the club’s pulsating dance music. “I want her for this fucking season.”
“Then you should have talked to her sooner,” Vox said neutrally.
“You said you could get them to cave!” Valentino shot back from across the table.
“I said I might be able to get them to agree if they took the airtime we offered but they didn’t!” Vox snapped. “Which was quite the scheduling nightmare, by the way, not that it matters now.”
And it had been. When Valentino couldn’t convince a budding adult film star to sign with him, Vox had promised her agency primetime slots for the upcoming season. Figuring out the logistics of re-writing the entire syndicated schedule only weeks before the season’s open was chaos. But in the end it didn’t matter because neither the agency nor the actress budged.
“Tch, yeah I’m sure re-configuring your little spreadsheets was very difficult,” Val said with a snort.
Vox barely noticed his claws digging into his hand. This was not how he wanted the evening to go.
Because of course they can’t go one night without talking about work. Of course they can’t have one nice evening. All he wanted was one nice evening.
It was one of Val’s nicer clubs, and Vox had only visited once during construction to oversee some security measurements. He had to admit the joint was pretty swanky - dim, intimate lighting, sensual but tasteful dancing on stage, overly priced but sensational cocktails, not to mention the plethora of back rooms to service the wide variety of illicit affairs that occur in such an establishment - it was an ideal haunt for Hell’s elite circles. If only they could do something about how loud the music was.
He felt a pang of guilt when Velvette, sitting between them, glanced up disdainfully from her phone. He wasn't sure who the look is directed at but he felt like shit all the same. It had been ages since they’d all been out together and here they were, bickering about work.
“Anyway,” Vox said evenly. “They didn’t bite so we have to let this season go. But we still have a shot at—”
“ENOUGH of the shoptalk, boys,” Velvette interjected. She slapped her phone down on the table.“You two haven’t stopped bitching since we got here, give it a rest.”
Val lit a cigarette and took a puff. “Sorry babydoll, you know how we get.” He gestured to Vox and took the opportunity to blow a heart-shaped smoke ring at him and chuckled.
Sensing what he hoped was the beginning of a better mood in the air, Vox straightened his jacket and offered Velvette a sheepish smile. “So sorry, my dear.”
Velvette, seemingly satisfied, returned the smile.
The sat there a moment in comfortable silence, and Vox wondered how he could best maintain the peace when Velvette stood.
“We’re due for another round - you two are far too sober for my liking,” she winked and skipped off to the bar. The could have flagged down a waiter but Vox knew that it was Val’s club and as the youngest member of the Vees, Velvette liked to show off by bossing people around, and who was he to stop her from having fun?
Valentino and Vox continued to watch the stage show, a circus-themed strip tease, in silence. There was a distance between them that Vox yearned to close. With Val’s sour mood potentially out of the way, he thought it might not be too hard to get the night back on track.
“It’s come together nicely,” he remarked, “the cub.”
Valentino turned to him with a smile that was all teeth and smoke. “It has, hasn’t it?”
Vox couldn’t tell if the smile was an invitation or a warning, and pushed on. “A good deal classier than your other places, too. This place will attract some deep pockets.”
Valentino lightly tapped his cigarette, ash crumbling to the ground, and scowled. “Looks like we’ll need it, since we just lost our potential cash cow.”
Vox ground his teeth, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. “Don’t give me that, Val, she’s barely made a name for herself.”
“Exactly, Vox!” Val snarled. “We were supposed to do that! Snatch her up before she’s famous and used up and mold her in whatever image we want! Craft her whole persona! Turn her into a money-making star!”
“We can still do that, we just have to—”
“Wait until next season? And what the hell am I supposed to do with this season, Vox?”
Vox felt the frustration overtaking his system like a virus. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. And why were they even talking about this? They were supposed to be celebrating the opening of Valentino’s latest club, not bickering about work. They should have been halfway to oblivion by now, drunk on their shared success or the expensive cocktails or both. Val could go out with his whores and party every other night but he chose now to be all business?
Underneath the anger at Val’s childishness Vox could sense a splinter of hurt. This was not how the night was supposed to go. Vox had wanted nothing more than for the three of them to relax, content in each other’s company. To see the splendor of Val’s new club, his artistry on display. An opportunity at a romantic gesture, supporting his lover and praising his accomplishments. To end the night in Val’s arms, the two of them tangled in bedsheets and too many limbs.
“Val,” he growled, fighting the glitch in his words. “That’s your side of the business, not mine. And we are more than prepared for the upcoming season—”
“How the hell would you know?”
“I’m the one who had to re-write the entire broadcast schedule to find airtime to bribe these fuckers with!”
“Oh, brilliant idea, by the way, Voxxy,” Val crooned condescendingly. “Just look how fucking well that went.”
“What the fuck does it matter anyway, Val?” Vox snapped. “She’s just the flavor of the week. You’ll be drooling over some new sucker in no time.” There was no real venom to the words but it was the wrong thing to say all the same. Vox felt the air around them shift as the petulant look on Val’s face was replaced by cold fury.
He glared at Vox for one second of strained silence before standing abruptly, fists clenched. Vox remained rooted to the booth, unsure of just how much worse he made the situation and afraid to make any movements, sudden or otherwise.
Valentino smoothly stepped out of the booth and Vox felt positive he was about to lunge when Velvette reappeared with a tray of drinks.
“Val, I gotta hand it to you, this might be my new favorite club of yours.” she said, sliding past Val and back into the booth, settling in her spot between them.
Vox watched as Val gave her a smile and visibly forced his shoulders to relax. He slid back into the booth next to her and casually flung one arm around her. “Oh? And why is that?”
Vox swallowed and tugged at his bowtie. How had he managed to make Val even angrier at the whole situation?
“Because it’s the only one where my shoes don’t stick to the floor,” Velvette said, placing their cocktails in front of them. An espresso martini for Valentino, an old fashioned for Vox, a strawberry daiquiri for Velvette. Their signature drinks.
“Give it time,” Val snickered, taking a sip. “By the way, how are the socials looking?”
“Stella liked my Sinstagram post,” Velvette beamed.
Val raised an eyebrow. “The Stella? Of the Ars Goetia?
“Hot stuff, right?”
“You got a thing for feathers, babydoll? I didn’t know you had a tickling fetish.”
Velvette rolled her eyes but for once was not annoyed at Val’s lewdness. “If she checks out the club, just once, and we get a halfway decent photo of her to share, we’ll definitely get more of those uptight wankers to visit.” She pauses to pick up her phone, absentmindedly stirring her daiquiri. “Hell, we might not even have to do that. The other patrons will have posted a thousand pictures of her before she even makes it to through the door.”
Vox took a heavy swig of his drink and tuned out their conversation, deflated. Val was behaving for now but Vox could tell he was still on the moth’s bad side. He was happy Velvette seemed to be enjoying herself, at least. She didn’t deserve to have her night ruined too.
He wished they had booked that stupid pornstar so Val wasn’t so mad at him. He wished the three of them could go out like they used to - glued to each other’s sides, basking in the glow of their shared ambition and cunning and, yes, admiration of each other. Permeating an aura of invincibility and perfection, all the while secretly enjoying the warmth that comes with effortless, comfortable companionship. An impenetrable connection.
Before all three of their departments had expanded, and they had such high demands to keep up with. Before Val had to open more clubs, and Velvette had to oversee increased production on her fashion line. Before Vox grew so bitter about Val’s lack of attention he buried himself in work so he didn’t have to think about it.
Vox blinked, shook his head. Dug his claws into the palm of his hand until he felt them puncture the skin, humiliated by his own craving for tenderness. He didn’t need all of that, didn’t even necessarily want it. But it was…nice, he supposed. And good for business, good for their image, he reasoned, to be seen so united, so in-tune.
But was it too much to ask for a night out, without the arguing? To have one day where Valentino couldn’t find a reason to be cross with him?
Sometimes - hell, most of the time - it simply hurt less to not try. To leave Val to his impossible moods and sulk, bury himself in work, drink until he forgot why he was upset in the first place.
But…goddammit, he was getting so tired of that. He didn’t want to keep doing that, and he was starting to sense he needed Val’s affection more than he cared to admit, even to himself. There had to be a way to turn the night around. Get Val in that mood when he says the things that make Vox melt.
Valentino and Velvette chattered on, taking selfies and judging the various fashion choices on the dance floor. As Vox mentally shuffled through a list of possible ways to placate Val (was this something his credit card could fix?) his eyes landed on something across the room that made him pause.
Angel Dust, sitting at the bar and chatting up an expensive-looking bull demon.
Vox rolled his eyes with a barely suppressed scoff. Of course that coked-up prostitute was here. Of course he couldn’t go one night without looking for a dick to swallow. Of course he couldn’t let Vox have Valentino to himself for one fucking night.
Vox felt his left eye begin to swirl in agitation as he thought about the pornstar and Val’s single-minded obsession with him. Angel was not only their most popular and most profitable name but also Valentino’s absolute favorite toy. He clawed at his palms absentmindedly.
How Valentino could prefer Angel Dust to him was beyond Vox. Vox loved him; was dedicated and devoted to him and had made both of their careers, crafted both of their pristine images. And not because of some stupid contract or because he was hooked on blow and wanted more of it or because he wanted to sleep with everything that moved. Vox watched as Angel flirted with the demon, arrogantly flaunting his presence right in front of Vox just to piss him off and gripping his drink like it was the last cock in hell—
Vox only realized he was losing it when he felt his claws dig into his palms again, pulling him back to reality. He blinked his swirling eye away before the other Vees noticed.
Now is not the time to get hung up on that. Focus on—
Vox looked at Angel Dust again. Looked at Val. A wolfish smile spread across his screen. Here was an idea.
He slid his focus back to Valentino and Velvette. She was showing Val something on her phone, some reel they both cackled at. Vox picked up his glass, slung his arm casually over the back of the booth, and turned his attention back to the show on stage. The strip tease had been replaced by a pole dancer, a beautiful eel demon languidly gliding up and down.
He took a quiet deep death, forced himself to look relaxed, bored even. Waited for a break in the conversation. When there was a pause in the chatter as Val took a sip of his drink Vox cut in.
“You know I’m surprised you let Angel have the night off tonight,” he said casually, eyes still on the pole dancer.
He heard the sharp clink of the martini glass hit the table as Val set it back down harder than necessary. “What?”
“Hm?” Vox turned to him.
“What do you mean?” Val asked, genuinely confused but already suspicious. Perfect.
“Oh…” Vox tried to look sheepish. “Just that—”
“Just what?” Val pressed, agitation creeping in his voice.
“Well, I dunno,” Vox shrugged, took a sip of his old fashioned. “Just…surprised you even let him out of the studio, with everything he’s been saying.”
Valentino went deadly still for a moment - a precursor to his rage - before snapping the cigarette in his fingers in two. The other Vees glanced at each other, worry in their eyes.
“And what has he been saying?” Val asked, his voice dripping with a tense sweetness.
Vox tried to sound a little nervous, and couldn’t help but notice how easy it was with Val glowering at him.
“I…I dunno, I just heard he was talking shit about you.”
“Heard from who?” Val asked
Vox studied his claws, disinterested. “My assistant said something, and Baxter. Oh, and the IT guy I sent down there last week.”
“Such as?” Val’s eyes narrowed, his fingers now drumming furiously on the table.
Vox paused, unsure of what to say.
“Vox.”
“I don’t know Val, something about your directing, your writing, something like that. Something about the latest film.”
“What about it?” Val said through his teeth, anger rising.
“He said it was amateurish, or juvenile, something like that.” Vox finished his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know, I just heard he was running his mouth so I was surprised you didn’t have him on snuff duty or something.”
Val just stared at him, anger smoldering in his eyes, before finally giving him a tight smile and saying softly, “Well, that can be remedied.”
With that Val lit another cigarette and Vox turned back to the stage, trying to suppress a grin. Bullseye.
The rest of the evening went smoothly enough. Velvette got them another round of drinks, they discussed the new club’s best attributes, enjoyed a few more stage performances. Social media presence for the club was already well-established, thanks to Velvette and her team. Vox could already tell Xctasy was well on its way to becoming one of Val’s more popular haunts.
Close to midnight, the club was in full swing, more crowded than when they arrived but no less dignified, the air abuzz with the clinking of glasses and haughty laughter. The dark, sultry veneer of class that masked the unshakable sense of cruelty and loneliness hiding in every corner, at every table.
Finally, Valentino tossed his cigarette aside and stood fluidly. “Babydoll, Voxy - if you’ll excuse me I have some business to see to. I hope you enjoy the rest of the show, mis amigos.” He turned and left, striding away towards the bar.
Angel Dust was still sitting at the bar, sharing drinks and talking to a different demon now. Once Valentino locked eyes on him, he all but shoved club patrons out of the way to stomp over to him. Vox watched with barely suppressed glee as Val grabbed the back of the bar chair and swung it around to face him. Angel jolted in surprise as he looked up to find his boss looming over him, saying something and gesturing towards the front of the club. Angel blinked, confused. Said something back, pointed at the sinner he was talking to. Val’s back was to Vox, so he couldn’t tell exactly how he reacted or what he said, but whatever it was made Angel freeze, eyes going wide as dinner plates.
Velvette must have noticed him smiling like a maniac at the whole display because she slapped her phone down on the table. “Vox,” she admonished. “What did you do?”
“Whatever do you mean, my dear?”
She scoffed and crossed her arms. “You look like you’re about to jizz your pants, you looney. What are you up to?”
Vox wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her flush against his side, picked up Val’s still smoldering cigarette from the ashtray. He took a puff, then held it to Velvette’s lips. “Just watching out for my colleague, that’s all,” he said as she took a hit. He watched as Valentino grabbed Angel’s wrist and practically dragged him out of the club.
“Uh huh, sure.” Velvette said. “You two and your lovers quarrels, I swear.”