Chapter Text
“Hey, Voxxy,” Val purred, strutting into the TV demon’s office with purpose, like he had millions of times before, and he would do it for another thousand years, at least he thought. Vox didn’t look up from the papers he was reading over. The newspaper? Val frowned. Vox almost never read the newspaper, much less the physical newspaper. He always made a point to watch 666 news, even though he constantly complained about how grating Katie Killjoy’s voice was. “Voxxy?” Val tried again, to no avail. The only sound coming from his partner was the slight hum of electricity. “Vox.” Val placed his second set of hands on his hips, his first landed on the ridiculous chrome desk Vox had insisted on buying.
Finally, after what seemed like a century, Vox flicked his eyes up in a disinterested manner. Val let out a squeak of annoyance. “What, Val? Did one of your whores quit?”
“No,” Val bristled, eyes catching a glimpse of what Vox was reading. The news title read; The Radio Demon, friend or foe? “Oh my fuck.” Val grunted, snatching the newspaper and balling it in his hand. Of course it was about that fucking deer. When wasn’t it? Honestly, if Val was able too, he’d wipe that red tampon off the face of Hell. But he couldn’t. He crumpled the newspaper even more. Vox just watched him, impartial to the scene in front of him. “This is getting out of hand, Vox.” That was an understatement. Ever since Alastor had come back and declared he was helping the princess with her hotel for rehabilitating sinners, Vox had been poring over anything and everything. Old photos, news headlines, hell, he had even considered listening to some of Alastor’s old broadcasts in hopes to find out why the hell he’d be helping the princess.
Val had to admit, for a moment, he was intrigued. It’s not every day that an overlord, especially one as powerful as Alastor, stoops down low enough to help a charity case. Val had thought it mildly entertaining and funny. But then Vox stopped coming to bed, he stopped visiting the studio, he stopped taking Val out to lunch. It was…wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
“Then why are you here?” Vox spoke, bringing Val out of his thoughts, though he didn’t miss the way his partner’s tone glitched, a telltale sign of overexertion. Well, fuck him. He can be overexerted. It was his fucking fault.
“We were supposed to go to that Mexican place. For lunch?” Val straightened, tossing the newspaper in the trashcan. Vox’s eyes followed the paper and he sighed.
“I’m not hungry, Val.” He said, pulling up a screen to his left. On it was the local news. Loan Sharks Attack Hazshit Hotel. Val couldn’t care less. If the hotel blew up today, he would laugh. But Vox was becoming obsessed with it, because of Alastor.
“You haven’t eaten anything today.” Val countered. Vox rolled his eyes.
“I’m fine,” He cleared his throat, screen glitching, but he tried to cover it with a cough. Val scowled, noticing it almost immediately. A part of him wanted to leave Vox to his own devices, let him overheat and break down, but something, something made him stay.
“You’re not.” He crossed his first set of arms. “Just come to lunch with me, please?” Val didn’t beg, no, he demanded. But right now, his voice cracked, betraying something deep inside him. Fuck. He could feel his heart clenching, waiting for Vox’s response.
“Fine.” Vox stood up, adjusting the lapels on his coat.
Though he didn’t want to, Val could feel himself smiling.
Vox was quiet. Unusually so. The two of them had been lying in bed, passing around a cigarette and speaking no words. The smell of cherry vapor wafted through the air, exhaling through Val’s mouth and Vox’s gills.
“The horchata was good.” Val said dumbly, taking a particularly hefty inhale of the smoke. He let the buzz take over his mind, it looked like it was the only one he was going to get tonight. Vox wasn’t in the mood. He never was anymore. Val almost had half a mind to slip him a love potion, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He grimaced.
“Yeah,” Vox replied, halfheartedly. It made Val want to strangle him. His hands itched, but he occupied them by picking up his phone. He scrolled through texts, landing on Velvette’s number. She had been uncharacteristically busy recently. Annoying. Now he didn’t have anyone to vent about Vox to.
“So, did you hear about the attack on the hotel?” Val was reaching here, really reaching. Of course he knew Vox had, he was reading it on the news earlier. But Val needed conversation, badly. He could see Vox’s screen flicker before he responded.
“Alastor was there.” Fucking motherfucker. Strangling Vox was becoming a forefront in Val’s mind right now. He bit the inside of his cheek, stemming the rage that thrummed through him like a drumbeat.
“Yeah, but who cares about that puto.” Val waved a dismissive hand.
“The princess seems to.” Vox responded coolly. He took the cigarette and inhaled. Val watched as the smoke exited through his ribs, the slow exhale trembling through Vox’s body.
“Well, who gives a fuck about her.” Val chuckled, though it was strained. Because he knew Vox cared. And he only started caring once Alastor became involved. Fucking Alastor. “Velvette told me she caught Melissa and that stupid assistant of yours having lunch together. Isn’t that disgusting?” He tried to change the subject, tried to gain Vox’s attention. Something that seemed to be slipping with each passing day.
“Ethan?” Vox questioned, shifting in the bed. “Like…a romantic lunch?” His lips curled in something akin to revulsion.
“No, thank fuck,” Val took a drag. “But she said they were shit talking us.” He glanced at Vox, trying to gauge his expression. The TV demon frowned.
“I’d be concerned if they didn’t.” He finally said, tiredly. It was Val’s turn to frown. Usually Vox would be more mad about this. He would make an example out of his assistant, let everyone at VoxTech know that he was not to be messed with. Val would find it hot, it might turn him on, seeing Vox so dominating, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. He let out an aggressive squeak.
“I’m going to bed.” He announced, to no response. He might as well have been talking to an empty room. One of Vox’s wires snaked around, grabbing Val’s glasses and setting them on the nightstand. Val’s eyes softened. He looked at Vox one last time. “Good night.”
“Mhm.” Vox was already enthralled with another headline.
“And then he said ‘Alastor was there’! Like I give a fuck!” Val threw his first set of hands up. He was lounging on a plush velour couch, a cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. Velvette was standing across from him in front of a set of mirrors. Melissa was there too, trying on all the outfits Velvette threw at her.
“Well you know the pissbaby is obsessed with him. This isn’t old news.” She replied, a needle in her mouth. Frowning, she cocked her hip and tilted her head. “No, I hate that.” Flicking a hand, the outfit Melissa was wearing disappeared, replaced by another one.
“Ugh,” Val sighed dramatically. “What does that old fart have that I don’t?!”
“A sense of respect for himself.” Velvette deadpanned, then chuckled quietly to herself.
“Fuck you,” Val spat, though he didn’t really mean it. Velvette was one of the only people he would allow to insult him without consequence. After all, it really was just her personality. Even so, his antenna twitched with slight annoyance.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Velvette laughed, then focused back on Melissa. She hummed in annoyance, waving her hand again. Now, Melissa was dressed in a silk pink dress, a slit riding up her thigh.
“Sexy.” Val smirked. Velvette glared at him.
“Focus on your boytoy.” She snapped, garnering a light smile from Melissa.
“I can’t.” Val whined. “You know what he’s doing right now?” He asked, demanding an answer. Velvette rolled her eyes.
“What?”
“He’s using Angel to spy on Alastor!” Val screamed, taking a large inhale of his cigarette. Velvette winced slightly.
“Sucks for you.” She said, “But can’t you just, tell him not to? Angel is your property, ain’t he?” Her head swiveled around like an owl and she had an exasperated look on her face. Val glowered, sitting up and pouring himself a whiskey from the glass decanter on the coffee table. He looked inside his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl before downing the drink. That’s the thing. He couldn’t tell Vox no. Because if he did, then he’d be mad. Then he’d pull away even more. Val couldn’t have that. Besides, some dangerous part of him wanted to please Vox, to make him happy. Though he knew the fucker didn’t deserve it.
“It doesn’t matter.” He deflected, waving it off. Velvette rolled her eyes so hard he thought they would get stuck in the back of her head. She turned back to Melissa.
“Spin around, babes.” She instructed and Melissa complied. Velvette let out a grunt of dissatisfaction, placing her hands on her hips. “Ugly.” She waved her hand, another dress appearing.
Val groaned. Obviously Velvette wasn’t going to put up with him anymore. He’d have to bother her a different time, when she was free. Then he could get her undivided attention. He stood up, setting down his glass. “I’m leaving, boo.” Waving at her, he turned to exit.
“Bye! Kisses!” Velvette replied, still captivated by her work.
Vox frowned, his screen flickering in annoyance. He zoomed in on the picture in front of him. Alastor. He looked so smug, like he was in on a joke that nobody else was. It was infuriating. And he had that fucking smile on his face, which made everything worse.
There are no friends in Hell, Vincent. That radiostatic voice invaded his mind, making him wince as if he had been stabbed. A grimace rose low in his throat. No friends in Hell, huh? Then why was Alastor getting all snuggled up with the Princess? Was she the exception? What did she have that he didn’t?
Was he not good enough?
“Fuck.” Vox muttered, banishing that thought from his mind. Him? Not good enough? A laughable idea, really. He was one of the most powerful overlords in Hell. He had everything.
“Um…sir?” A quivering voice entered the room, making Vox roll his eyes and pull a face.
“What do you want?” He spun around in his chair, facing his assistant. Ethan gulped, loudly. It grated on Vox’s nerves.
“Uh, Mr. Valentino, he-uh, he’s requesting you in the studio.” Ethan stammered, clutching his clipboard close to his chest. Vox audibly groaned, pulling up a screen. Video surveillance.
The video showed Val, wings splayed out in aggression, smoke filling the room, and blood…lots of blood. Vox rolled his eyes. Val was yelling at someone, probably one of his whores, Vox didn’t really care. He closed the screen and glanced at Ethan. The assistant was trembling now, pathetic fucker. He was obviously waiting for Vox to dismiss him.
“Go.” Vox waved a hand at him. At his words, Ethan scurried out of the room, grateful to leave. Once Ethan was gone, Vox sighed, shoulders drooping. Fucking Val. He just had to go and make a scene. What was the reason this time? Angel did something he didn’t like? A shoot went wrong? Vox’s mind swirled with the possibilities. Now, he had to go be damage control. Why was this job assigned to him again? Oh right. He distinctly remembered Velvette saying that her idea of ‘defusing’ Val was throwing him out a window. And as much as Vox wanted to do that right now, he couldn’t.
Exhaling, Vox stood up and placed his hands behind his back. This was going to be interesting.
The studio was a mess, and that was putting it lightly. Smoke filled the room, making it hard to see. Cameramen were choking on it, actors were running and screaming, no one wanting to face Val’s wrath. Vox honestly couldn’t blame them.
He sidestepped a dead body, hands still clasped behind his back. A disinterested look flickered across his screen as he surveyed the damage. “Val,” He spoke, voice mild and unconcerned.
Val wasn’t listening. He was in the middle of ripping a crewmember to shreds. Tearing him limb from limb, anger red and hot in his eyes. There was blood all over his suit. The white pants stained with crimson splotches. Velvette was going to be mad. Those were a gift from her.
“Val!” Vox’s voice took on a growling edge, static electricity rippling off him as his voice distorted. Finally, Val looked up, dropping the dead crew member, a look of confusion written across his face. Confusion that suddenly morphed into a sultry smile.
“Voxxy,” Val murmured, tilting his head as if he were seeing a ghost. “What brings you to the studio?” He questioned, grabbing a handkerchief and wiping the blood and guts from his face. His smile was menacing, unnerving, reminding Vox to not get on his bad side. The golden tooth in his mouth glinted maliciously.
“Ethan told me that you sent for me?” Vox stepped forward, foot landing in a pile of guts. Just fucking great. He removed his foot, a look of disgust on his face. “So here I am.”
“Ah,” Val smirked. “My knight in shining armor.” He threw the handkerchief on the floor and collapsed his body on the nearby couch, limbs laying languidly. His chest rose and fell with the diction of someone who had just ran a marathon and his antenna twitched back and forth.
He’s still coming down. Vox told himself, stepping forward, now behind the couch. He needed to be careful. No need to set him off again. Val leaned his head back, eyes meeting Vox’s.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t send for you.” Val said. “It must have been Velvette. Maybe she heard the commotion.” He chuckled. Vox raised an eyebrow.
“What’s got you so…riled up this time.” He asked, genuinely curious. Val sighed, blowing out a hot, smoke-filled breath in Vox’s face. The sickeningly sweet cherry scent filled his senses, his screen fogging up.
“Hmm, what do you care?” Val frowned, a pouting look coming across his face. Vox leaned forward, closer.
“What makes you think I don’t care?” He tilted his head, clawed hands ghosting just shy of Val’s face. Val’s smirk widened.
“You’ve just been so busy, Cariño.” He sulked playfully, leaning into Vox’s touch. “I thought you forgot about me.”
“So that’s what this is about.” An amused smile lit up Vox’s screen. “Well, I gotta say,” His finger traced Val’s jaw. “you do know how to get attention.” He chuckled lowly. Val practically melted. Good. Vox knew this is what he wanted. He wanted to be seen, be noticed. Usually, Vox was pretty good at doling out affection to Val so he didn’t tip over the edge, but maybe he’d been a bit…neglectful in the past couple of weeks. It didn’t matter. He’d make up for it. All in due time.