Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vox woke up wishing the world would fuck off already so he could go back to sleep. Or, more accurately, closing his eyes as his inner monologue rambled itself into knots and crashed every train of thought he had into one explosive wreck. 

A week. It had been one, tiny, meaninglessly miniscule week since his latest breakup with Valentino (not that he was counting, he had much more important shit to do than worry about that dumb moth), and already those fucking vultures posted it on every social media site possible, the general public eating up every last scrap of detail like a pack of rabid dogs. He couldn’t even open up his phone without getting his eyes assaulted by those obnoxious headlines: ‘Did The Radio Steal The Video Star?’ and ‘Breaking News! Trouble in Paradise, Once Again.’ If he had to see one more post insinuating that he was secretly getting railed by that smiley-fucker he was going to throw his phone off a cliff.

He would do the railing, obviously!

It really didn’t help that Velvette had taken it upon herself to try and get them to make up. Or in her words, ‘stop whining and FUCK already!’ Ugh. Whether it be locking them in a closet together until they broke down the door, or setting up some sort of candle-lit dinner with a rose-filled bed like a shitty rom com, (which for some reason Val liked ). But no matter what ridiculous thing was set up  for them to talk or fuck, it always ended up with Vox being kicked out while some of Val’s employees were let in. Vox wasn’t exactly surprised, but it still managed to drive that hurt deeper into his chest.

He always forgot what it felt like whenever Val broke up with him. How much it hurt to have the man he loved look at him like he was worth less than the scum on the bottom of his shoe. Those high moments, those hot, heady sessions and sickly sweet cigars. He missed it, he craved it. To have Val look at him as though Vox was powerful, was someone who he wanted ruling by his side. Like he was worth something..

He would take any amount of vitriol and anger and hatred if it meant Val would look at him that way. 

If Val would look at him at all. 

Picking up his phone off of his nightstand, Vox tapped on the contact at the top of his list. ‘My Rat ’ had over fifty unread apologies from Vox, ranging from passive-aggressive, threatening and violent, to downright begging and pleading, all left unread. Vox skipped past them and called Val, waiting for him to answer, not surprised in the least when he didn't. This would be voicemail number thirty three, after all. Not that he counted. Yet, he still felt that familiar pang of bitterness that welled up in his throat. 

“Hey, Val, I…” Vox sighed, pinching the centre of his screen. “Look, I’m.. sorry,” the words felt like ash in his mouth. “okay? I know you don’t like it when I talk to Ala– The Radio Demon, but it wasn’t–” He paused, letting out a small huff of air, jaw clenching as electricity ran up his arms in quick, snapping jolts. “No, NO- ḟ̲̄u̸͕ͥcͥk̎̐ you! I didn’t even do anything you entitled as̟̊̀s-”

Vox quickly cut himself off, a harsh breath seeping through his gritted teeth. Deep breaths he told himself, smile, just tell him what he wants to hear.. “...there isn’t an excuse I can give…” He said slowly, forcing his muscles to relax, smile sharp and jagged, the static in his voice barely contained. 

“I shouldn’t have done it, and I ruined your day with the blackout, I know.” He started to pace, a hand rubbing up and down his arm, quick and fidgety. “Just please let me at least talk to you in person, I’ll do anything– anything, I just… I miss you, Val.” He internally cringed at the crack in his voice as he hastily ended the call, tossing his phone onto the mattress with a frustrated noise. 

Fuck, how pathetic was he? Begging for attention like some sort of lost little whore? He was an Overlord, he had money, he had power, and he could have anyone he wanted! 

…but he didn’t want anyone else..

He deftly pushed away the thought of antique radios and haunting red eyes-

What did Val want from him? More grovelling? More attention? To get on his knees and lick his boots? Vox doubted he would be able to take much more of this, the hits to his pride only able to take so much. Val should fucking know not to mess with him like this, drag him along by his petty whims and stunted emotions. It made him feel so- so-

Fuck, fuck, Vox gripped the sides of his head and fell face-first into his pillow, groaning. Great, he had a headache now, too.

After a few minutes he sat up again, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back into some semblance of rest, his nerves too jittery, too pent up to ignore. He thought of going back to work, but for once the idea wasn’t exactly appealing. Maybe it was because he had been working non-stop for a week straight, barely sparing time to go to the bathroom, let alone any thoughts about Val. Despite that, despite it all, those whispers always managed to seep through the cracks, pungent in their sweet stench that drove Vox mad.

No, he needed a new distraction, one that would wipe that rat-faced bastard from his mind, for at least one night. Just enough to let him fall asleep without being reminded of how cold the bed was, how quiet. Ugh, what was he, a teen girl? He could sleep alone. He wasn’t that pathetic!

..he just- he didn’t want- he always– he was an Overlord he didn’t have to explain himself!

Velvette was Vox’s first thought when it came to a distraction and a decent time, but he remembered her mentioning some sort of fashion show she was hosting that night, so she was out. And… that was it for his list of friends he could bother since his boy– ex- boyfriend wasn’t exactly an option at the moment, so.. going alone it was. 

It wasn’t sad, he didn’t need those two to have fun, anyways. 

Yeah, he could have fun and stick it to Val. He was fine, great, absolutely fucking fantastic and he would show the whole of Hell that he didn’t need Valentino, he didn’t need anybody.

With that thought on his mind, Vox zapped himself to the nearest bar. 

It was your average dive bar, at least for hell. He could feel his shoes stick to the tacky floorboards, and grimaced at the grease-slick counter, despite the half-hearted attempts from the bartender to scrub it off. It wasn’t crowded, but there were enough people that he’d have to rub elbows with strangers, joy. He had half a mind to go and find somewhere classier, but at least here no one would give him a second glance. Even if it was… substandard, it would get him drunk, at least

This usually wasn’t Vox’s scene, especially not by himself– please, he had much better taste than this– but it was fine, especially for how he was feeling at the moment. It was late, the red sky a deep burgundy, despite him having just woken up. There were already people dropping down from alcohol poisoning and getting as high as kites on whatever drugs they managed to scrounge up.

Keeping his head down, Vox ordered his drink, muttering an insincere pleasantry as it was handed to him. He was glad he didn’t change out of his more casual clothes, since it didn’t seem as though anybody recognised him without his signature suit and hat on. Relishing in the burn, he tossed the whiskey down like water, and raised his glass to order another.

As he did, somebody else shoved him out of the way to grab a tray of their own. He was just going to flip them off and leave it at that, before he saw them take out an all too familiar pink bottle, pouring it into one of the martini glasses. 

Vox watched as his stomach twisted into knots, as that pink smoke rose up, up, up from the drink, swirling into a mocking heart, before breaking apart into wisps.

Frozen, Vox’s eyes followed the demon cross the bar, watching him offer the drinks to what he assumed was the bastard’s friends and whatever sad-fuck he was about to drug. No, not just drug, leave seizing on the ground, foaming at the mouth because the dumbass put in way too much. 

Not that he would know anything about that.

He hated how familiar the scene was. How saccharine the smile on the demon’s face was, how the group snickered as though it was all some sort of funny joke. He watched as the man– victim– grabbed the glass with a sly smirk, and– wait, why did he look so familiar? Oh, oh, he was… 

Angel Dust, Valentino’s “favourite.” 

The spider demon his boy– ex wouldn’t stop gushing about like he was the next fucking messiah. ‘Oh, Voxxy have you seen his legs?’ ‘Just look at him, that’s a body people would sell their souls to have for just one night.’ ‘I’ve tried him, you couldn’t believe how flexible he is, you could snap him in half and he would just keep begging for more.’

Jealousy reared its ugly head and snarled, and Vox looked away from the oncoming disaster. If he was such a golden goose maybe it would serve Val right if his favourite toy finally broke. He could just imagine how devastated Valentino would be if his precious ‘Angel Dust’ wasn’t able to come back from this, because even if his body revived his mind sure wouldn’t. He’d be nothing but holes for some demon to fill and toss away, nothing but–

It’s not his fault Val dumped him, 

Angel Dust held up the glass, oblivious. 

Vox clenched his fists, it wasn’t his problem. This was Hell, it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. This shit happened all the time and no one even batted an eye, so why should he step in, especially when it would benefit him if this happened. All he had to do was look the other way. 

No one would care. 

No one would think differently of him. 

The drink touched Angel’s lips. 

Vox felt a phantom touch on his throat. Deep, mocking laughter.. Come on baby, it’s just one drink…

CRACK

The lights in the bar burst into a sprinkler of sparks and fireworks as Vox stood up, sinners screaming as they shattered, glass raining down overhead. They seemed to finally realise that they were in the presence of an Overlord, and a pissed one at that. Steps calm and measured, Vox grazed his sharp claws against the sticky, beer-stained wood on the table, inwardly smirking as the lesser demons cowered at what was essentially a glorified light show. 

Though of the little group, only one demon didn’t look like they were about to piss themselves, and it was none other than the “favourite,” which wasn’t exactly surprising. Considering how much the other had to deal with Val, no wonder he was used to it. His showman’s smile widened. “Gentleman, may I ask just what, exactly, you were trying to accomplish here?” 

He leaned over them, taking advantage of the fact that he was the only one standing. One of them, the one who spiked the drink, decided to open his disgusting mouth, “Nothin’ that concerns you, pal.”

Vox nodded, tapping his chin “uh-huh, uh-huh.. so you weren’t about to drug one of my employees, then?” A technicality. He did all of the paperwork for the Vees, and having them all under his payroll was easier since the other two idiots couldn’t be bothered. 

Though he asked, as soon as  those words left his lips, and that same, annoying sinner went to answer, he found he was too impatient for this interaction. It wasn’t worth his time, and he simply didn’t care.

It barely took a second to reduce them to smoking chunks of meat. 

Movement from the table got Vox to look up at the spider-demon, who had gotten up and made a beeline to the door, shoulders tight and arms wrapped around his torso. He should have just left it at that, just sat back down at the bar to get wasted like he had planned or cut his losses and just go home, because who was he kidding? He didn’t even want to be outside, let alone talk to the “favourite.”

It wasn’t his problem, or his business. He killed the dicks, he did way more charity work than he had ever done in his life, for free, no less! He owed that whore nothing, less than nothing.

But… 

He felt his guts 

T

   w 

      i 

         s

      t

   i 

n

   g 

as Angel slipped out that door, out into the night. 

He should leave it alone, walk away, walk away– 

Come on baby, it’s just one drink…

Just one drink. 

Just–

Before he knew it Vox was out the door and down the street. 

–

“Hey, those weren’t your friend’s back there, right?” Angel suppressed a flinch at the voice that he had been hoping would leave him the fuck alone, calling out to him. Was that really so much to ask for? Just for once could he just get something he wanted? Apparently not, because life loved to fuck him in the ass, literally.

And of all people it just had to be yet another Overlord that decided to ruin his night. He was so sick of Overlords, of how they believed they could get away with anything, because they could, and they knew it. But that didn’t mean they had to always go to him to make themselves feel more powerful, they could pick literally anyone else to hurt. 

Angel was so, so tempted to just keep walking and ignore him, maybe flip him off for good measure, but he knew he couldn’t. He saw how easy it was for the guy to reduce those other demons to ashes, not even Smiles showcased brutality like that with such indifference, and it left him more disturbed than he would admit. “And what if they were?” Angel turned, facing the smaller demon. 

Vox, of course Angel had heard about him, seen him too, though not very often. He didn’t know much about the other– but he did know that he was dating his boss, and had to be a whole new level of fucked-up psycho to deal with Val willingly. “Then get better friends.” The media Overlord scoffed, shrugging. Angel laughed at that, cold and brittle. As if that fucker had any right to say that to him.

“What do you want?” Because that was what it always came down to, wasn’t it? Everybody wanted something from him, whether it be his body, his looks, a belief in a  hopeless dream. He was tired of it, tired period , and he couldn’t– just couldn’t– Overlord be damned. Heck, maybe he’d piss Vox off enough that he’d kill him.

At least then he’d finally be alone, for a little while.

“Lemme guess, a blowjob?” Angel smirked, dragging his hand up to push out his chest, the other trailing tantalizingly down his thigh, “or maybe an hour for each big, bad man you protected me from, huh?” 

“W–what? No, I–” Vox took a step back, a bewildered, disgusted look crossing his face. 

“Then what, daddy?” Angel purred, “‘cause I’m off the clock, so you’d hafta pay double to get me on my knees,” he tilted his head, looking the other up and down, “or you on yours, I can work with both.” He felt a slight spark of amusement at Vox’s expression, he looked like he was going to blow a fuse. Angel didn’t think someone whose boyfriend was a literal pimp could be such a prude. 

Vox quickly shook his head, as though that would erase the way Angel had steered the conversation. “Look, I– fuck, why am I even…” He rubbed a hand down his face, then muttered something that Angel couldn’t quite make out. Sighing, he turned back around, consequences be damned, he was too impatient for this bullshit. 

He got three steps before Vox’s words stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“Are you okay?” Spoken quietly, tense, like something that should have never left his lips. A secret.

Dangerous.

It made Angel snap. 

“Am I okay?” He whispered, grin wobbling as he whipped around, not noticing how the other flinched. “ Am I okay?!” Marching up to the Overlord, backing him into the wall, snarl on his lips as he jabbed a finger underneath his chin. “You don’t get to fuckin’ ask me that, jackass. Ya come– come in like some white knight an– an’ what? Expect me to get on my knees and thank you, call you my saviour, is that it?! Well, I’m not, I didn’t– didn’t ask Charlie to save me and I didn’t ask you, to save me. So take your fukin’ selflessness and shove it up yer ass, or find someone who actually gives a shit.”

Angel heaved, shoulder shaking from the amount of emotion and vitriol that spewed from his lips. But once the white-anger that had consumed him washed away, fear seeped in. Angel backed up from where he had been leaning over Vox, fixing his eyes to the pavement, shoulders hiking up to his ears. 

“So…” Vox started, and Angel couldn’t suppress the flinch this time. Fuck, fuck, what was he thinking, talking to an Overlord like that, let alone Val’s guard dog. If he thought tonight was bad… he shuddered to think of what Val would do when he found out about this. “...I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Angel’s surprise made him look up, then made him really look. Vox looked… like shit. His shirt was a bit too big, crumpled and singed from the ‘fight’ from earlier. There were deep bags under his pixelated eyes, which raised a bunch of questions about sinner biology he would rather not think about. Either way, he looked tired, and small, not something he ever thought an overlord could look like. It shattered the image he had conjured in his mind, made it so hard to keep being wary, to keep his walls up. Maybe that was his plan? Maybe Val sent him, to try and keep tabs on him. 

At this point he was too tired to care.

Letting out a humourless chuckle, Angel sat down on the curb, head hanging between his knees. It didn’t take long for Vox to join him, sitting a foot away, keeping his knees curled to his chest. “You here to keep tabs on me or what? Val not satisfied with my performance?” Despite his jovial, sarcastic tone, he felt his stomach twist at that notion. Angel couldn’t deal with another session like that again so soon, he might finally snap if that happened. 

But Vox merely shrugged, pulling out a cigar and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. “No, nothing like that. I’m here for what I’m guessing is the same reason you are.” He pulled out another one, and offered it to Angel, who scoffed as he snatched it from the media demon’s fingers.

“What’d’ya think that is, exactly?” He snapped, taking a long drag, breathing out the– thankfully– grey smoke out into the cool night air.  

“To forget.” 

The two sat in silence for a little while after that, long enough for Angel to think that maybe, maybe, he was being genuine, that it wasn’t some sick joke from Val. A trick to make him vulnerable and say something he shouldn’t, used as another excuse to punish him.. to restrict and change the contract.. but– fuck it, he was pretty drunk already and he already had a death wish, what else could he possibly loose at this point? 

“What?” Vox jumped and looked over at Angel, eyes widened slightly, and he couldn’t help but think the guy resembled a spooked animal with how on edge he was. “Ya said to forget. Forget what?”

Vox laughed at that, dry and humourless, tired.  It tapered off into a sigh, and ended with him taking another drag. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl for a moment, before he smiled, small and bitter. “Val.” Just one word, three letters, a single name,  yet it held so much emotion, so much meaning that couldn’t be expressed out loud. 

He said nothing, yet more than Angel ever expected from someone like him. 

Which was what made it too hard to believe, left him sceptical and nervous. Sceptical because it was an Overlord telling him this, an all powerful, larger than life demon with unimaginable power at his fingertips… and if what he thought he was saying was right, then… the thought made him feel sick. He wouldn’t, couldn’t believe it.

“Trouble in paradise? Classic.” Angel laughed, loud and ugly and fake. He turned to look at Vox, an exaggerated pout on his lips, “someone get mad ~” expecting some sort of scoff, or retort or denial or something, he didn’t expect the cold silence. 

Vox just curled into himself more, resting the base of his screen on his knees, eyes distant, cigar forgotten in his lax fingers. Angel felt something squirming in his gut as he frowned. He had wanted Vox to feel bad, but not… bad.

“Hey,” Angel spoke up again, and again Vox startled, turning to look at him. He hated how innocent Vox looked in this light, how naïve. This wasn’t the same towering Overlord who had killed five sinners with cold indifference, not the same businessman who looked so cool and collected and charismatic on air, he was just… Vox. 

And that was almost worse, in a way.

So Angel decided to ignore it, and instead asked another question that was nagging at him. “Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“At the bar, not a lotta people– nah, no one woulda cared if you left me there. So why?” Angel didn’t really know if he wanted the answer, but he had to know. He knew Val and Vox had a weird on again and off again relationship, and he would be stupid if he hadn’t noticed Val’s more frequent.. mood swings, in the studio, recently. If this was just some cheap shot, some bargaining piece to get back in Valentino’s good graces… he was out. He refused to be some damsel in distress, he had the situation handled, he would have been fine.. 

As fine as he could be after they had their way with him.  

Luckily he was pulled out of his thoughts by Vox’s voice. Quiet– so fuckin’ quiet it was getting unnerving– “They put too much in.” He stated, as though that explained anything. Picking at his sleeve, he looked anywhere but at Angel, having the gall to look nervous. “-the–the drinks, they put too much of it in yours, you would’ve been unresponsive for over twelve hours, but still– aware..” 

That.. Angel opened his mouth but nothing came out. He looked at the smaller demon with wide eyes. Fuck, he was so small, he realised, compared to Val… 

Twelve fucking hours…

Angel laughed, the first genuine laugh he’d had in a long time. Gut-wrenching and tear-inducing, and it didn’t take him long to realise that Vox was laughing too. It was so sad it was funny, and if he didn’t laugh he knew he would start sobbing. Here was one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell, able to go toe-to-toe with the Radio Demon and come out alive, stuck in the same fucking position he was– right under Val’s thumb. “We’re both fucked up, huh?” he said once they had both finally stopped, wiping tears from his eyes.

“I guess so,” Vox composed himself. In a flash of blue light he had a rather large bottle of whiskey in his hands. Prying off the lid, he took a long swig before handing the bottle to Angel. “Wanna forget about it for a little longer?” 

Angel grinned, “Ya read my mind.”

–

He didn’t know how long they spent like that, just sitting on the curb getting drunker as one bottle of whiskey became two, and two became three. Then Vox got too intoxicated to make any more, pathetic little sparks flicking between his fingers as he tried his damnedest to summon one more bottle. They erupted into giggles, leaning on each other as they watched a pathetic little puddle of alcohol spew out of Vox’s fingertips.  

“Did he– he really do that t’ya?” Angel asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“Y̨͈̫ë́ah.” Vox hiccoughed, “he– he saͩ̑ì̶̹̼d̴ͧ͢ that it was apart–part of hisͯ ‘artistic process.’” He tried to air-quote but it came off more as unenthusiastic jazz hands. 

Angel scoffed, “bull shit, who the fuck’s gonna believe that?” He would probably feel disgusted if he wasn’t so shitfaced. To think Val did all of the fucked up shit he’d seen at the studio with his boyfriend was honestly wild, yet also unsurprising.

“ I did! And he is ŝ͙͛o̿̌ adamant about it, too. I͂ͩ͡ had to re͈̫̍s̢͈̻̍͜ort to fȗ̷̠̻͂c͍k̞̪͆ing turning on a… a fucking lamp so he’d get di̲͗͆s̬ͤ̏ț̷͋͡racte̶͍d̓ by the light.”

“That’s… fucked.” Angel blurted out.

Vox paused, “I…  yeah, yeah, that is fucked.” 

“Fuck Val!” Angel yelled.

“Yeah, fuͫͅck him!”

And that was how it went, both of them sharing some of the bullshit Val had pulled and making fun of the pimp. They didn’t share everything, no, but it still left Angel feeling so much lighter. Made breathing just a little bit easier. He felt like for the first time there was someone else, like he wasn’t alone. And while it was an awful thing to think,  he was glad Vox was there with him. Glad he wasn’t alone. 

At least, until the phone in Vox’s pocket started buzzing. He fumbled with his pants for a moment before hitting ‘answer’ and holding it up to what Angel assumed was his ear. “The fuck is this?” Vox slurred into the receiver, blinking slowly. It was silent for a moment as Vox listened to the voice on the other line. Something changed in his demeanour as the call went on, his back straightened out and his expression sobered. 

“Why d’you even care?” he shot back, harsher than before, “You've been ignorin’ me for a week already, so why’s it matter if I–” He paused for a moment, listening, before he scoffed “I did not! You were the one who didn’t even tell me the fucker was back! You’re the one who rubbed in in my face just to fucking piss me off!” Vox snapped, grip tightening on his phone. “You’re so fucking–”

Angel could practically see Vox’s thoughts screech to a halt, his screen glitching slightly as his shoulders hunched in on himself. “...I..” He seemed to regain some of his composer as he  fumbled over his words, that easy charisma of his broken down into something far more raw, vulnerable, and Angel looked away. It didn’t feel like he should be seeing this.. “..Look I didn’t mean– I’m sorry– I already said I was sorry, what more do you want–”

A strangled noise came from Vox’s throat, “Val…”

Angel froze at the name, spoken with such a familiar pain it made him ache. All it took was a few words… fuck, Val wasn’t even there and he was able to make Vox look so… 

Weak. 

Vox’s eyes flicked to his before he stood up, pacing the empty street, quickly switching back to anger, the guy was like a see-saw with his emotions. “You can’t just order me around like one of your–” 

There was a few seconds of silence as Angel tried to decipher whatever his boss was saying on the other line. He couldn’t hear much, but he was able to understand a few words, none of which were positive. Vox tensed up, scowl on his face as he stood up, beginning to pace, screen glitching   “so, what? I’m not allowed to even talk to anyone other than you? How is that–” Vox went completely still, and he seemed to deflate, hunching in on himself. “Yes, Val.” And with that he hung up

Vox looked at Angel, a small smile on his face. It looked more like a grimace. “I gotta go…” He fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve, droplets of whiskey splattered on it. His heels scuffed the pavement, as his eyes flicked from where Angel was sitting to the ground. He was so easy to read it was painful.

But he knew where it was coming from, feeling that same ache in his chest at the idea of this– whatever it was– disappearing. 

Angel knew he couldn’t stop Vox from going back, even if he wanted to. But he wasn’t an idiot, he knew what was going to happen as soon as Vox went back. How Val got when he was mad.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to.. to..

So he did the only thing he could think of, he got up and snatched Vox’s phone from his hand. “Hey, what–” 

“This,” Angel pushed the phone back into Vox’s hand, “is my number, don’t wear it out.” With that he pulled on a fake smile and winked, “call me.” Angel turned around and walked away, he didn’t see the smile on Vox’s face before he vanished in a flash of blue.

He started his trek back to the hotel with a real smile of his own.