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Alastor froze in the doorway of Vox's penthouse, staring at the blue, white, and silver Christmas decorations covering nearly every surface and glittering in the twinkling lights.
"Hey, Al!" Vox chirped, waving eagerly from beside a towering white tree that was covered in blue and silver ornaments.
"... Hello." Alastor tied off his shoes, hung his coat on the rack next to the door, and approached Vox. "I... wasn't aware you were Jewish."
"... What?"
"The... blue and silver. Is that not... Channukkah?"
"Not for me," Vox chuckled. "Just... matches my aesthetic."
"Oh." Alastor sat primly on one of the new blue chairs, shifting uncomfortably on the stiff cushion. "Alright."
"I mean, Judaeism is, like, such a bummer," Vox sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Every single fuckin' holiday is like 'we're sad, we're not eating, we're gonna cry about it and give you the day off'f work'. Like, thanks for the day off, I guess? But... yikes. Channukkah is, like, the only one that's not a fuckin' bummer."
Alastor hummed.
"What's up?"
"Nothing! I'm simply... taking in your... festive decor."
Vox hummed, sipping at his drink. "Nice, right? They were here for, like, 8 hours, putting everything up."
"Interesting." Alastor wriggled in his seat to try and get comfortable. "Did you need to replace your chairs?"
"Just for the season," Vox assured him, "And then we'll put the regular black ones back."
Alastor shifted again, then asked, "Where are they?"
"Where are...?"
"Where are the chairs? Where is my chair?"
"Uh-- Storage room in the basement--"
Alastor stood, grabbed the chair he was sitting in, and disappeared into shadows, appearing in the basement storage room. He looked around, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw the chair he had been looking for. He seized it, then reappeared in the penthouse to put the chair in its proper place.
"It doesn't match the--"
"I don't care. The chair that does match your decorations is stiff and uncomfortable. This chair is the same one that I've sat in for decades, and it is shaped to me."
Vox sighed and waved a hand lazily towards Alastor. "Whatever you want, Al. Hey, you hungry? Vel and Val did some baking earlier, and there's cookies in the kitchen." He stood and moved towards Alastor to offer him a hand.
"I don't have much of a sweet tooth," Alastor reminded him, "But thank you. I may prepare myself something from your fridge, if you... have anything?"
"Yeah, I have the stuff that we were gonna use for dinner a few days ago 'n didn't. We got... distracted." Vox climbed slowly onto Alastor's chair, with his knees on either side of Alastor's hips.
"I recall," Alastor chuckled, leaning up to kiss Vox's smile gently before nudging him off. "Let me up. I'm going to cook."
Vox backed off of Alastor and followed him to the kitchen, humming 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' as he hopped onto the counter across from Alastor's prep-space.
Alastor started to prepare himself a steak, seasoning it thoroughly before dropping it into a pan. "Vox, Dear?"
"Yeah?"
"Is your bedroom as... decorated as the living area?"
"Not even. Think I've got... one string of lights? Maybe? I haven't been in there since this morning, but I told 'em not to worry about it."
Alastor nodded. "I'd like to spend the evening in your room, please."
Vox's face lit up, both his expression and his screen brightening. "Yeah! Yeah, we can-- We can do whatever you want!"
Nodding again, Alastor plucked his steak from the pan with two fingers and dropped it onto a clean plate from the cabinet.
Vox picked out a specialty bottle from the back of the kitchen mini bar and offered it to Alastor.
"... What is it?"
"Christmas wine. Lots of spices 'n little notes of... Christmas."
"No, thank you, then. I'll stick with my usual."
Vox shrugged and poured Alastor his whiskey. "Up t'you."
Alastor accepted the glass with a soft kiss to the side of Vox's screen, then sat at the kitchen peninsula to dig into his steak, over-rare and practically still bleeding, with just a little crisp on the outer edges.
Vox sat beside him. "How're you, hm? I know I've been here all week, but... You've been busy at the Hotel, right?"
"Always..." Alastor sighed, stabbing his steak with his knife. "You know, for a family headed by Christianity's most detested figure, the Morningstars are incredibly keen on celebrating Christmas."
Vox snorted. "The 'Birth of Christ' one, or the 'commercialized, over-capitalized' one?"
"The second. Many, many gifts are... everywhere. The royal wealth wasted on... tinsel, and garlands, and... so many trees."
Vox laughed loudly and nodded. "I can believe it."
"Truly garish."
"Sure."
"And for what?
"I mean... the Christmas spirit?" Vox offered weakly, giving Alastor jazz-hands to match. He swirled his wine in its glass, shoulders hunching in on themselves. "I guess it's just... kinda nice t'have something... to look forward to, y'know?"
"Sure. But must it be so... much? I mean, so monochromatic!"
"... What?"
"Well, on Earth, we had colorful decorations! Here, everything is just... green."
Vox hesitated, then asked, "Alastor, what color are your clothes?"
"Red, supposedly."
"... And why 'supposedly' and not 'definitely'?"
"Well, I can't see-- Oh."
Vox snorted, burying his screen in his hands. "Alastor."
"I forgot!"
"You forgot that you're fucking colorblind?!"
"It's not as though it comes up all that often!" Alastor tore off a chunk of his steak with his teeth and chewed thoughtfully. "Perhaps I was a touch rude to poor Charlotte."
"And what did you say to her?"
"... That her decorations need variety, and that green and gold are better suited for St. Patrick's day."
Vox cackled and shook his head. "Think she deserves an apology?"
"Not in the slightest. If she wanted to be as 'inclusive' as she claims to be, she would include colors that all of us can see."
"I mean, most of them can see--"
"Husker can't see red or green, either. Nor can Niffty. She's colorblind, as well. Struggles with blues, reds, and purples. So we can all enjoy other colors."
Vox sighed. "If you'd helped decorate, maybe you could've brought that up sooner?"
"The day I get on a ladder for that Hotel is the day I die."
"You're already dead, dipshit."
Alastor blinked, then scoffed and rolled his eyes at Vox. "Enough of that."
Vox snorted again and sipped his drink, then got up to put the glass in the dishwasher. "Anything else interesting happen this week?"
"Only Niffty and her annual re-discovery of her love of fireplaces."
"And she forgets that she likes them... why?"
"We don't light them in the summer. And infrequently in the winter. But she was laying in it when I left, and it would not shock me if she was still there when I returned tomorrow."
Vox hummed. "Next time I come over t'yours, remind me that I have something for her."
"Alright."
"... Aren't you gonna ask me what it is?"
"Does it affect me at all?"
"... No?"
"Then no!"
Vox chuckled and nodded. He took the empty plate from in front of Alastor to put it in the dishwasher, as well, then offered his crooked arm. "Shall we?"
Alastor nodded and followed easily, falling into Vox's bed with a groan. "Oh."
"You always act like you've never seen a bed before," Vox laughed.
"I..." Alastor sighed. "I have no response to that."
Hand on Alastor's low back, Vox scratched right above his tail. "You alright?"
"Mm. Quite. Just... I don't want to speak."
"Alright. You don't have to. Just... 'yes' or 'no' questions, how 'bout that?"
"Mm."
Vox kissed the side of Alastor's head, snickering at his ear-twitch, and stood up. "I'm gonna change. You need pajamas?"
Alastor nodded weakly into the sheets.
Vox changed himself into his pajamas, then offered a folded pile to Alastor. "Here. They're red. I know you're tired of green."
Snorting, Alastor stood up and bumped his forehead against Vox's chest. He kissed Vox's neck, scraped his teeth against his skin lightly, and entered the bathroom to change and brush his teeth.
He stared at himself in the mirror, plucking a stray piece of tape from his shirt-sleeve from wrapping presents earlier in the day. He wadded it up to throw it in the trash can beside the toilet.
He brushed his teeth with the lights off, elbows braced on the vanity counter as he scrubbed his teeth clean. He spat, then washed his face.
When he re-entered the bedroom, Vox was turning down the sheets on Alastor's side of the bed. "Hey. Think I'm gonna forgo the blankets tonight, so... they're all yours. No worries about my cold feet on your legs."
Alastor snorted and nodded. He approached Vox to kiss him lightly and whisper, "Appreciated."
Vox nodded. "I'm gonna... turn on a show. If you wanna ignore it, you can-- I won't take any offense-- but I wanna hang out with you."
Alastor nodded again. He settled into the bed with his monocle on and a book in-hand, back against the headboard and long legs stretched out in front of him.
Sitting on his own side of the bed, Vox summoned a coloring book and a set of colored pencils. All of the pages in the book were sharks or various oceanic predators, and he turned to a partially-colored page of a giant squid.
Leaning over, Alastor bumped his forehead against the side of Vox's screen, rubbing his antlers against the plastic casing for a moment.
"You're gonna leave scratches," Vox complained half-heartedly.
Alastor repeated the action.
Vox groaned and leaned into the touch. "I can't even feel that. If you wanna gore me, get my stomach or something.
"Not goring," Alastor whispered. "Just... marking. I think."
"Oh. Carry on, then."
Alastor nodded once, resolute. He returned to his book, adjusting his monocle with two fingers and hiking his knees up to rest his book on them. His hooves slipped on the silk sheets for a moment before he settled comfortably.
Vox looked up from his laptop at Alastor, who was leaning back on the headboard with his head dropped back.
"Al?"
Alastor peeked one eye open to look at Vox.
"You alright?"
"More than," Alastor said softly, accent coming through in his exhaustion. "Just... tired."
"You can sleep. No problem. I can stay awake, too, if that's your problem--"
"No. I--" Alastor scrubbed his palms down his face, then admitted, "It's a... bone-deep exhaustion. Always happens, this time of year."
"Any idea why?"
Alastor nodded wordlessly.
"You... wanna share with the class?"
"My mother."
"... Oh."
"She passed on the 23rd of December."
"Shit."
"Mm. Quite."
"Sorry 'bout that. That sucks."
Alastor nodded again, reaching up with one hand to pinch at the inner corners of his eyes, as though to staunch tears. "I... I miss her. You know? And... I don't want to miss her-- I mean, of course, I do, but it doesn't do anything to miss her."
Vox nodded, turning onto his side to prop his screen on one hand.
"I want to see her again. Just one more time. I have so much to tell her, but I'll never see her again, and... I know that I'm not making it up to Heaven. I have no interest in being in Heaven. But... that's where she is."
"Yeah?"
Alastor nodded again. He looked down at Vox, and whispered, "She would've liked you."
"Yeah?" Vox asked, voice softer then before.
"Despite my ending up with a white man--"
"Okay--"
"-- She would have found you delightful. Your... stories, and your mannerisms, and your flair for the dramatics."
Vox snorted. "No idea what you mean."
Alastor's smile softened. "She... She would have made you gumbo and chicken, and sat you down, and made you tell her everything we've done."
"Think everything we've done would give her a heart attack."
Rolling his eyes, Alastor whispered, "But it would have been you and I. And she..." He sighed. "She was scared I would end up alone. After everything she did to make me the 'perfect' man, I ended up... this."
"And what is 'this'?"
"A killer. A... heathen. An Overlord, a monster, a queer--"
"Okay." Vox sat up and held up a hand. "Enough. Your mother would've loved the man you've become."
"You have no place to--'"
"You're helping at the Hotel, which is a place where people can go to become their best selves and-- supposedly-- get redeemed."
Alastor hummed.
"You're the most powerful demon in Hell, and you hurt those who deserve it, protect those who deserve it, and treat people properly."
"I--"
"You're polite, dignified, put-together, and in a relationship with someone who loves you more than should be allowed."
"But--"
"Yeah, I'm a guy. Whatever. If you were happy, and you wanted to spend your life with me, would she have been upset?"
"... I suppose not. Perhaps... worried about your intentions, but..."
"If you were happy, and she knew you were safe, cared for, loved, and cherished, would she be happy?"
"... Yes."
"There. I think she'd be happy for you. Maybe not... thrilled about the whole 'murder' thing, but... you did only kill people who deserved it."
"The worst of the worst," Alastor confirmed.
Vox nodded. He leaned over to kiss Alastor. "Try to get some sleep, okay? I know it's hard. I have some sleep meds in the bathroom, if you need them."
"I'd prefer not to."
"That's fine, too." Vox laid down and opened his arms to Alastor. "Think you'd sleep better with--?"
Alastor wrapped his arms around Vox's slim waist, face buried in his chest.
"That's a 'yes'. Okay." Vox stroked Alastor's ears and hair, eyes trained on his quivering tail at the base of his spine. "You want me to touch your tail?"
"... No, thank you."
Vox nodded and kept tugging gently at Alastor's ears to try and loosen some of the tension at the bases from him holding them in place all day. "You're okay, Sweetheart. I've got you. Relax."
Alastor took in a deep breath, then let it out, posture visibly loosening as he sagged into Vox's hold.
"Good Boy." Vox kissed the top of his head. "Remember to breathe."
"Turn on the TV," Alastor rasped, voice a low drawl.
"... What?"
"The TV. Turn it on. Something... dumb. Mindless. I don't want to think, I don't want to be... scared, I don't--" Alastor sighed.
Vox scrolled through the TV's various streaming services before landing on a kids' cartoon and pressing 'play' on the first episode. "Alright. Uh... kids' show, 'bout... two brothers making the most of summer. Sound good?"
"Sounds boring." Alastor turned to look at the TV, eyes glazed and lashes damp with tears. "Is this the... first one?"
"Yep. Started at the beginning."
Alastor nodded. He focused on the TV and the brightly-colored characters chattering away onscreen, muttering some of the lines back under his breath as they passed.
Vox stroked down the back of his head and neck, scratching at his back for a moment before trailing back up to his ears.
"Vox?"
"Yeah, Doll?"
"I want... Do you have... tissues? Or a handkerchief?"
"Bedside table."
Alastor let his shadow rummage through the bedside drawers and retrieve the light blue box of tissues to deposit them on the bed. He plucked on from it to blow his nose, wipe his eyes, and drop it in the bedside trash can.
Vox kissed Alastor's head. "You thirsty?"
"No."
Vox used his cables to take a plastic water bottle out of the mini fridge next to his desk and bring it over anyway. He took a performative sip out of it and placed it on the bed beside his hip.
"I don't want it."
"I know. It's mine."
Alastor scoffed and opened the bottle, draining it in just a few sips. "You don't have things that are yours. They're mine, or they're ours."
Vox hummed, trying hard to stifle a smile. "You're right. Sorry."
Alastor settled back against Vox's chest, eyeing the TV and whispering, "I like the green one."
"Which green one?"
Alastor rolled his eyes. "The quiet one. He's quiet."
"Mm."
"And funny. He only talks when necessary; I respect that."
"You're invested."
"Am not."
"You like the green one!"
"I do not!"
"You said--"
"I don't recall that!" Alastor laughed, poking Vox's chest and shaking his head. "It's a silly television program, and it means nothing to me."
"Sure, Al. Whatever you say."
Alastor buried his face back in Vox's chest to inhale deeply, then let out a long sigh. "You smell nice. I like your soap."
"... Thanks."
"I'm going to shower here before I leave tomorrow. I want to use it."
"Whatever you wanna do, Alastor." Vox kissed the top of his head again. "Let me know if you get hungry. I can order something in, or up from the kitchen."
"... Perhaps later."
Vox nodded.
"Thank you for letting me be here and be... feeling things. I know it's inconvenient--"
"You're not an inconvenience. Never. Alright? You could barge in here and demand whatever you want from me, and I'd give it to you, 'cause you're you."
"... Anything?"
"Sure. Name it."
"... Those cookies you mentioned earlier sounded good, actually. Do you have any... just... plain sugar cookies?"
"Yeah. They're... I mean, they're red, but..."
"I won't see it, anyway. I want one."
Vox waved a hand to send his cables to fetch the tray of cookies from the fridge, and, when they returned, he slid the tray onto the bed beside them. "Here. Whatever you want. You don't have a peanut allergy, right?"
"No."
"The peanut butter cookies with the chocolate-peanut-butter cups are like crack. And I've tried crack. They're probably better, 'cause they're not gonna wreck your organs."
"Perhaps your waistline?"
"Worth it. They're so good."
Alastor selected one, then hummed around it. "Oh, that is delicious."
"Right?"
Alastor continued to watch the show on-screen, curled up against Vox's chest as he munched away on the tray of cookies. "Vox?"
"Mm?"
"I'm tired."
"You want me to turn off the show?"
"... I don't care."
Vox hummed and nodded, placing the remote back on the bedside table and stroking Alastor's ears with that hand, instead. "Alright."
"Perhaps the volume could be turned down?"
Vox waved a hand, and the volume dialed down. "Better?"
"Mm. I don't care."
"Drop the 'too-good-for-this' thing, Al. Not cute. Is that better?"
"... Yes. Thank you." Alastor's voice was soft and drawling, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. "I have nowhere specific to be tomorrow. Would you... mind too terribly if I slept in?"
"Not at all. Might join you, actually. Work from bed?"
"... Quietly."
" 'Course."
"Then... Yes, please." Alastor nuzzled Vox's chest. "I don't... want to be alone for a while."
"Not a problem." Vox sent off a few emails internally, then said, "Everything on the calendar for tomorrow is cancelled. I'm all yours."
"You--"
"I mean, I'll still have emails 'n shit, but... easy enough to do from bed."
Alastor nodded weakly.
"I'll be here, Al," Vox promised, kissing Alastor's head and brushing his bangs back from his face. "You're pretty."
"... Thank you."
"You're my favorite person, and I love you, and I'm glad you're here with me."
"Mm."
"You wanna... do nothing on Christmas with me?"
Alastor rested his chin on Vox's sternum to blink up at him. "Could we?"
"Sure." Vox shrugged. "I mean, the gift I got for you can be moved to 'birthday gift' status--"
"I can accept one gift."
"Oh, can you?"
"I can allow it."
"How generous," Vox laughed, hugging Alastor closer. He kissed Alastor's forehead and whispered, "How about... nine?"
"Nine?!"
"I mean, I-- It's our first year together! I've been getting them throughout the year--"
Alastor bust out laughing, dropping his face back to Vox's chest as he shook his head. "Ridiculous, Voxxel," he whispered. "Why, one might think you're fond of me!"
"Oh, no. Devastating. How could they?" Vox deadpanned with an eye-roll.
"That's alright," Alastor mused, "I have over a dozen gifts for you."
"You do?!"
"Yes. Though I may spread them out throughout the year--"
"I can handle 12 presents in a day!"
"Are you sure?"
"More sure than anything."
Alastor kissed Vox's neck lightly. "Well, then, I'll have to bring those over on our 'Nothing-Christmas'."
"That sounds so weird."
"Mm. What do you suggest we call it, then?"
"... My church as a kid always had a 'Blue Christmas', where, like, if you were sad about the holidays, you could get together with a bunch of other people who were, too, 'n be sad together."
"And I assume that you want to reclaim and bastardize that?"
"What else do I do?" Vox chuckled.
"... Fine. We'll have a Blue Christmas. I suppose it's better than red and green. Er... green and green."
Vox snorted. "It is still red and green, even though you can't see it--"
"Perception is reality. It's green and green," Alastor said firmly.
"... Okay."