Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had started as a perfectly normal day in Hell. As much as any day in Hell could be considered ‘normal’. The very nature of the place encouraged chaos, guaranteeing that there would always be something to surprise you on any given day. But Alastor liked that fact. Without it, things would be quite boring.

He descended the stairs and found several of the hotel’s residents gathered around the television that Alastor had reluctantly allowed into the hotel. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but Husker looked up at him almost instinctively as the man who held his chain entered the room, and there was poorly concealed anxiety in his eyes, his hands clutching the arms of his chair tightly. Interesting.

Alastor took a closer look at Charlie, who was woefully inept at disguising her emotions, and sure enough, her face was broadcasting exactly what she felt - fear. His gaze slid to the television the girl was standing in front of. It was displaying 666 News, and more specifically, live footage of a fight that had broken out in the Entertainment District. Ironically, the most entertaining thing that had occurred there in some time, in Alastor’s opinion.

“Well, that looks messy,” he commented, a gleeful note to his voice, as the footage showed the moth demon, Valentino, ripping a chunk of steel from a building and throwing it at someone off screen.

“Alastor!” Charlie immediately whirled to face him, eyes wide and desperate. “Angel is over there! He was at work when the Vees were attacked, and-and… you have to make sure he’s safe! Please?” She bounced on the balls of her feet, wringing her hands.

“If the Vees can’t protect their own employees-”

“Angel’s a resident of the hotel,” Husker cut him off angrily. He really was getting far too bold, lately. He would have to do something about that. “Which means he’s supposed to be under your protection.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed.

“He’s right, Alastor,” Vaggie fixed him with her overly judgmental glare from her seat on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. “If you can’t keep the residents safe, what good are you?”

Honestly. Perhaps he was being too magnanimous lately in regards to the hotel and its people. There had been a time when no one would have dared to speak to him like that. But the wretched angel did have a point. He’d publicly shown a commitment to protecting the hotel’s residents, so one of them ending up dead would certainly not be a good look for him.

He sighed. “Oh, very well. But I can’t be making a habit of getting involved in trivial territory disputes, you know.” He didn’t wait for a response before he dissolved into shadow.

*

Vox was getting worried. The fight was one against two, so how was this going so poorly for them? He’d known Mephisto was one of the more powerful Overlords, but he didn’t know he was this strong. The guy had always been a bit of a recluse, and Vox had wrongly taken that to mean he wasn’t much of a threat. Fuck, maybe he should have tried harder at negotiations.

This had all started because Velvette had paid a visit to Stygian City. It was one of the nine cities in Pride, and it was Mephisto’s domain. She’d wanted to open a store there for her fashion line, and considering this wasn’t the first city she’d expanded into, none of them had thought anything of it. But apparently, Mephisto was a territorial prick who was insulted by the very notion of another Overlord opening a store in his territory. Or maybe it had had more to do with the way she’d spoken to him. Either way, Velvette, the youngest of all the Overlords, hadn’t stood a chance against him. He’d agreed to return her to the Vees in exchange for recompense in the form of souls. Which Vox thought was ridiculous, seeing as Velvette hadn’t actually done anything. Well… Mephisto hadn’t liked that response.

Black smoke engulfed him, making it impossible for him to see anything. He couldn’t even make out his own hand when he raised it in front of his face, and his hearing was muffled, as well. “What the…? Val! Where are you?”

“What are you fuckin’ talking about?” Valentino snarled, sounding distracted and far away. “I’m right here!”

Vox extended his arm towards the sound, almost immediately making contact with someone’s arm.

“Fuck! Vox, what are you doing?” 

“Can you see through this?” he demanded incredulously. Valentino’s eyesight was shit without fog.

“Through what?!” 

He suddenly felt hands grabbing him, pulling him out of the way as he felt, rather than heard, something fly past him, barely missing.

“Shit,” Vox groaned, bringing his hands up to his screen. “He’s in my head.”

“¡Mierda!” Valentino pulled him around behind him, firing off a gun with another hand. “Angel, get over here and fucking do something!”  

“I’m not dyin’ for you!” he could only vaguely make out Angel Dust’s voice from wherever the whore had taken shelter.

“You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do!” Valentino screeched.

There was a grunt from Angel, and then the sound of more gunfire. They were so screwed.

*

Alastor stepped from the shadows beside V Tower, quickly assessing the scene before him. The civilians had all either cleared out or become collateral damage already. Valentino was standing in front of an oddly still Vox, firing off guns. Angel Dust was at his side with his tommy guns, also shooting at the only other demon on the street. 

Alastor froze. He hadn’t asked who they were fighting, hadn’t watched the television long enough to discover that detail. He had wrongly figured that it was some up-and-coming Sinner trying to make a name for themself, or perhaps even another Overlord of around equal power that one of the Vees had managed to piss off. But it was so. Much. Worse. 

The demon was humanoid with sickly yellow skin, black horns, and bat-like wings. Every line of him was sharp and angular, and he appeared guant even while being three times his usual size, as he was now. And he was immediately recognizable.

Alastor watched as Mephistopheles (or Mephisto, as everyone was calling him these days) projected a glowing, black manifestation, which engulfed Angel, who dropped his guns in alarm as he was lifted forward. “Val!” he screamed, struggling uselessly against the nebulous magic that held him. 

Valentino cursed, but didn’t move to help his employee, continuing to shoot uselessly at the behemoth that was Mephisto. 

Unconsciously, Alastor brought a hand up to brush against his throat before he stepped out into the street, his smile tense. Mephisto had lifted Angel before him with his magic and was bringing his hand to crush him when black tentacles wrapped around the spider demon, plucking him from his hand and delivering him to Alastor’s side.

“So sorry, but this one’s one of mine!” Alastor said as calmly as he could, acutely aware of the moment Mephisto’s eyes fell on him. “Have at it with the other two, though!”

“Thanks, Al,” Angel gasped, catching his breath.

“Take this, but I recommend you get out of here,” he muttered quickly as he shoved the angelic blade he’d thought to bring from the hotel into his hand. It wasn’t like he could use it, after all; nor did he expect Angel to have much luck with it, but it at least gave him something to temporarily defend himself with. “You’re out of your depth.”

“No kiddin’.”

Alastor dissolved into shadow again, reappearing in the mouth of the alleyway next to V Tower. As expected, Mephisto immediately swiveled to stay locked on him, and suddenly Alastor was finding it quite difficult to breathe.

“Alastor,” Mephisto growled as he advanced on him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Angel is a resident of the hotel, and therefore, under my protection,” he managed to choke out through the weight pressing in on his throat.

“I don’t care!” He swiped out at him, sending Alastor crashing into the alley wall. “You dare to defy me?”  

Excruciating pain erupted over Alastor’s body. He screamed in agony, wondering if Mephisto might actually kill him this time.

*

Vox blinked rapidly as his vision suddenly cleared, whatever magic had been messing with his head dissipating. “What happened?” 

“The fucker took off after Alastor,” Valentino supplied as he gave a chain a yank to pull Angel back to his side. “Better get out of here while he’s distracted.”

“Wait…” Vox shook his head. “Alastor? Why was he here?”

“For me, I think,” Angel provided.

He looked over at him in disbelief, but his ridicule died on his tongue as he spotted the knife in Angel’s hand. “What’s that?”

His fist tightened around the hilt. “Just a knife,” he said defensively.

“We can do this later!” Valentino interrupted. “Let’s get out of here!”

“But Vel-”

“We’ll have to find another way. We aren’t winning this!”

Valentino was right, he knew. And they’d be no help to Velvette if they ended up dead. He was about to agree when an agonized scream echoed from the alleyway by their tower. His head snapped towards it. He couldn’t see anything around Mephisto’s bulk, but the radio static laced scream could only belong to one demon.

Vox’s hand curled into a fist at his side, every instinct in his body pulling him towards that voice.

“Vox,” Valentino cautioned.

No, they didn’t stand a chance. But Mephisto was distracted with Alastor right now. So maybe… just maybe… Alastor screamed again, and Vox made up his mind.

“Get out of here, Val,” he ordered urgently.

“But-”

“Get somewhere safe.” He turned to Angel next, his left eye growing wide as hypnotic spirals danced within it. “Give me that knife.”

Dazed, Angel handed it to him, and Vox immediately dissolved into electricity to jump into the alleyway, appearing behind Mephisto.

The large demon was fully focused on Alastor, towering over him as he held him pinned to the alley wall with a sharply clawed hand around his neck. “You are beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth, Radio Demon” he snarled.

Vox needed to be precise on this next jump, and he forced his nerves to calm down as he focused, tuning out Alastor’s strangled response. He rematerialized just over Mephisto’s back and he quickly clung onto one of his horns to keep from falling as his other hand stabbed the knife through the side of Mephisto’s neck.

It’s an interesting scream people make when their throat has been skewered, but Vox didn’t pause to admire it. He ripped the knife back towards himself, severing the spinal cord.

He jumped back to the ground as Mephisto crumpled, and then he immediately drove the blade into his chest. Even then, he hardly dared to believe that the demon was actually dead, that the fight was really over. But then he felt it. He almost gasped when he felt the weight of countless of souls being added to his chain. Mephisto had never seemed particularly active in Hell; he’d had no idea he’d owned quite so many souls. Holy shit. Vox felt incredible .

As Vox pulled the blade from Mephisto’s corpse, his gaze moved to the other demon in the alleyway. Alastor was crouched, backed up against the alley wall, his lips curled into a snarl and tension in every line of his frame as he glared up at Vox. He looked like a cornered animal, more afraid than Vox had ever seen him. Odd, but certainly not unwelcome.

“How about a thank you for saving your ass?” Vox sneered, twirling the knife between his fingers as he took a step forward. And then he froze, eyes growing wide. Because he could feel one of the new chains he’d acquired, could feel the proximity of one of his souls. “Oh, no fucking way,” he breathed, an ecstatic smile spreading over his screen. “No fucking way!”  

Alastor let out a low growl as he dissolved into the shadows. But that was okay. He could run away all he wanted, it made no difference. Vox could find him anywhere, could summon him whenever he pleased. He owned Alastor.

Chapter Text

Alastor wrapped his fist around a chair, already splintering the piece of furniture even before he flung it at the wall, an unintelligible snarl spilling from his mouth. His tentacles whipped around him, blindly wreaking more havoc on the articles of his room, and his shadow was the picture of pure fury and distress. It was several minutes before he was able to control himself enough to shrink down to his usual size, and even then he lashed out at the wall, claws digging into the drywall.

He should never have interfered in that fight. He should have let Mephisto kill Angel Dust and the Vees and be there to comfort Charlie in the aftermath. Maybe he could have even exploited the vulnerability it would inevitably have brought about in her. But no, he’d once again gone and stuck his neck out for the girl, and had once again been burned by the effort. Only this time it was so much worse.

Of all the demons who could have possibly killed Mephisto. Who could have possibly inherited his contract. Why did it have to be Vox? The pompous, obnoxious, desperate television demon who had been oh so obsessed with him for ages.  

Alastor had been working on a way to get his soul back from Mephistopheles. It wouldn’t have been easy, but he’d known the demon for a long time now, and he was fairly confident he had been getting close to having the right leverage. But he knew Vox even better. And Vox would never let him go. Not now that he had him. What he’d wanted for so long now, always just out of his reach. No, nothing could persuade him to give him up.

Alastor whirled from the wall, hands flying to his head and tugging harshly at his hair. He could still see the look on Vox’s face when he’d realized he held his chain. The surprise, disbelief, closely followed by unbridled glee. It had been sickening to watch. He would have rather that Mephisto had killed him. Better death than being chained to Vox, of all people.

His hand fell down to his neck. The chain wasn’t manifested, of course, but he imagined he could feel it choking him, all the same. At least Mephisto had been fairly hands-off, only calling on him when he needed something. Vox would lord his contract over Alastor every chance he got. Would make sure he could never forget that Vox owned him. His claws dug into the flesh of his throat as though he could rip off the collar, as though that would grant him relief from the suffocating feeling that threatened to crush him.

Of course that was useless. He dropped his bloody hand down to his side, eyes wide and crazed as he stared around at the mess that was his room. How long had it even been now? How long until Vox called on him? He was a little surprised he hadn’t done so already. Vox had never been a particularly patient man. But perhaps he was busy in the aftermath of the fight.

There was a knock at his bedroom door. Alastor instantly straightened, wiping off his hand on his coat as he went to answer it and immediately slipped outside, closing the door behind him to block the state of his room from view.

“Oh!” Charlie took a step back to make room for him, concern in her wide eyes as they roamed over him. Angel Dust was at her side, looking a little rough around the edges, but likely in a better state than Alastor himself appeared. He looked worried as well, and Alastor’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of them both.

“I certainly hope you don’t have another favor to ask of me already!” Alastor forced his voice to be upbeat, grateful that at least his disheveled appearance could be explained away by the fight he had been in.

“Oh no, no, of course not!” Charlie quickly assured. “We just wanted to check on you! Angel said you, well…”

“Got pounded in the not so fun way,” Angel finished for her.

Alastor’s smile sharpened in discomfort. “As eloquent as always, Angel. But as you can see, I am just fine!” He motioned to himself with a flourish. “Just a few scrapes, nothing I can’t handle. Though since you’re here, I am just dying to know, how did Vox get ahold of that dagger?” he demanded through gritted teeth, glaring at Angel with a ferocity that was perhaps a bit too telling, but he couldn’t help himself.

Angel blinked and seemed to shrink in on himself slightly, while Charlie looked between them both worriedly. “He, uh, used his eye trick on me,” he explained, a touch irritably. “Didn’ even tell ‘im what it was, but he musta’ guessed. Suddenly, he was demandin’ I hand it over, and I was doing it ‘fore I could stop myself. The prick. But hey, at least he killed tha’ guy before he did worse to ya, right?”

His hands curled into fists where they were hidden behind his back. “Yes.”  

“I’m just glad you’re both okay!” Charlie flung her arms out, pulling them both into a hug. As though Alastor hadn’t suffered enough.

“I wouldn’ be, if it weren’t for smiles, here,” Angel said when Charlie mercifully released them. He turned back to Alastor. “Thanks again for the save.”

Alastor met his eyes with a cold smile. I would kill you right now for the mess that coming to your rescue has landed me in, if not for the fact that that would render it all pointless. Ah, the cruel irony of Hell. “But, of course! It is my humble duty to protect the residents of the hotel!”

“Who the hell was tha’ guy, anyway?” he asked curiously, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside the Radio Demon.

“Mephistopheles, the Tempter,” he answered brightly. “An extremely old and powerful demon and one of the original Overlords of Hell. Not typically the type to pick fights, so I must admit I am curious as to what the Vees did to attract his ire.” 

“They said something about him having Velvette. I think she pissed him off, and they was tryin’ to get her back.”

“Foolish,” Alastor chided, even more irritated by the fact that Vox’s stupidity had ended up working out quite well for him. 

“Do you need anything, Alastor?” Charlie asked. “I can bring you some water, or coffee, or some food? Or some bandages?”

He fixed her with a patient smile, not allowing her to see how forced it was. “Thank you, my dear, but I’m quite alright. All I require is some rest and privacy.”  

“Oh, of course!” She took the hint and grabbed Angel’s arm to pull him with her down the hall. “We’re right downstairs if you need anything!”

Alastor shook his head and was just turning back to his door when he felt it. His invisible collar shifted against his neck. He braced himself to be pulled away, but it didn’t happen. Instead, the pressure was faint, just an idle tug of his chain; enough for him to feel it, but not enough to so much as knock him off balance. Well, if Vox thought he’d come running just because he’d gotten his attention, he would be sorely disappointed.

*

The rest of Vox’s day was frustratingly busy and passed painfully slowly. The first order of business was getting Velvette, of course; that was non-negotiable. But even after that was done, there was just so much shit to do in the aftermath of Mephisto’s death. Coming into a lot of new power was great, but it also came with a lot of work. Vox killing Mephisto had been very public, and while he wouldn’t have it any other way, it meant that everyone in Pride now wanted to talk to him. No demon had jumped quite that much in power level since… well, since Alastor.

And while Vox was forced to deal with his responsibilities, all he really wanted to do was summon Alastor to him. He didn’t even know what he’d do with him first, he just wanted to have him there. To enjoy the fact that he was his. He took to playing with his chain throughout the day, tugging lightly on it whenever his thoughts wandered to the Radio Demon. Just to make sure he was on Alastor’s mind as much as he was on his.

As they finally tied up loose ends that evening, Valentino stepped up behind his chair. “Now that all the boring stuff is done. What do you say you and I go celebrate?” he leaned down to murmur in his ear, hands sliding down over his chest.

Any other night Vox would be so on board with that, but tonight he had something more important to do. “Not tonight, Val,” he sighed as he leaned back to look up at him apologetically. “I’m exhausted.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “You won’t have to do a thing, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“Ugh, gross,” Velvette complained as she got to her feet, stretching after spending so long hunched over her phone, hard at work. “Getta room.”

“Better yet, why don’t you two go out to celebrate,” Vox suggested as he gently removed Valentino’s hands from him and got to his feet. “Have some drinks on me. I just need to get some sleep.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m sending you the cash right now.”

“Well, fine, be boring,” Valentino teased as he walked from Vox over to Velvette. “Come on, babydoll, let’s go have some fun.”

“Fuck yeah,” she agreed, and the two of them fell into step with each other as they left the room.

Perfect. Now Vox wouldn’t be interrupted. 

He went quickly to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him for good measure. After a second’s thought, he slipped off his jacket and hung it up, partially to be more comfortable and partially as a subtle power move. They were in his home, and he could afford to present himself more relaxed; the fact that he was in control was so undeniable that he needn’t worry about looking presentable.

Vox stepped into the largest open space in his room between his bed against the back wall and the couch against the wall to his left, and he materialized Alastor’s chain. The glowing blue metal sparked in his hand, and even though he knew it was probably his imagination, it looked brighter than all the other chains he held. Vox’s hand closed around warm metal, and he yanked.  

He could feel Alastor resisting the pull, just as he had known he would, and his smile grew as he pulled harder. A moment later, the Radio Demon appeared before him, stumbling to his knees as he was dragged forward against his will. And oh god, was that beautiful. It was still crazy to think that anyone had Alastor on a leash, and for it to be him that had him…

He kept the chain manifested, soaking in the sight of Alastor on his knees in front of him with his collar around his neck. Vox’s smile clipped off his screen, blood leaking from his mouth. “Oh, this is a good look for you, Alastor!”

It was about fucking time he had Alastor on his knees for a change. Vox could very clearly remember a time when their positions were reversed…

“Come on, Al, what the fuck will it take to get you to join me already?” Vox demanded, his expression somewhere between annoyed and angry as he glared at his friend. 

“The more you ask that, bon ami, the more annoyed I get,” Alastor warned before taking a sip of his drink. Vox had invited him over for cards and drinks, but after becoming pretty sure that Alastor was cheating, they had abandoned the cards. 

“Then it sounds like you should just say yes, so I’ll stop having to ask.” He grinned across the small card table at him, but there was an edge to his smile that was present more and more with Alastor these days. “Come on, you see the kind of success Valentino and I are having. With you, we would be unstoppable!” 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Vox! I can clearly see why you would want me to join. I just don’t see anything in it for myself!” His smile had also gained a sharp edge and he wiggled his emptied glass at Vox in a bid to get a refill.

“Uh, how about success?” Vox pressed, even as he got up almost automatically to take Alastor’s glass from him. “Money? Power? Staying relevant?” he threw over his shoulder as he walked over to the bar cart to grab the bottle of rye. “I know your numbers have to be down. More and more people are tuning into my shows everyday. Including the ones that air during your broadcasts. Some of our biggest draws, actually.” He turned around with a smirk. “It’s prime time, and everyday more eyes and ears turn to my programming, instead of your outdated little radio show.”

Alastor’s eyes were narrowed and he rose to his feet, his hand gripped tight around his staff. “You’re airing your most popular shows during my broadcast on purpose?” His voice was soft, but there was a hard and dangerous edge to it that Vox didn’t heed.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle the competition? You know, if you were my partner, I’d be sure there were no conflicts.” He reached back to grab Alastor’s glass, but before he could take it to him, a tentacle curled around Vox’s neck and yanked him forward. The glass fell from his hand, shattering on the floor as he fell to his knees. 

“Is this your attempt to blackmail me?” Alastor demanded flatly.

“Fuck! The hell are you…?” Vox pulled at the tentacle around his neck and tried to stagger to his feet, but more tentacles sprouted up from the ground, wrapping around his legs and wrists, holding him down.

“I have been very generous with you, Vox,” the Radio Demon growled as his antlers stretched over his head and his eyes flickered to radio dials. “I have been patient, I have granted you liberties I have to none other. But I have had just about enough of your desperate bids and your disrespect. Y̸̙̞̋̈o̵̦͌u̶̺̮͑͠ ̸̥̘̾̕n̷͚̚ḛ̷̭͑ę̷͍̄ď̶͙̻̈́ ̵̋͌͜͜t̸̍ͅǫ̵̯͑͠ ̷̣̊r̵̡̘͘͝ḛ̸̂̄m̸̡̕e̶͇̮̊͠m̵̼̤͝͠b̴͈̥̿͌ē̸̡̉r̵̫̋ ̴͙̈̑y̴̦̒̀o̸̢̭͝ŭ̵̬͌ŕ̷̘͒ ̸̟͎͂̾p̸̡̙̑ļ̴̟̄ä̴̩̤́c̴͈͂͒e̴͙̰͐̾.̷̝̭̐”

“Goddammit!” Vox sent a charge coursing over his body, shocking away at least some of the tentacles - which thankfully included the one around his throat. “And I’ve had enough of you thinking you’re so much fucking better than me,” he snarled as he continued fighting against his remaining binds. 

“I can hardly be blamed for thinking the truth!” He leered down at him with a cruel smile.

“You know what? Fuck you!” He finally managed to fight and shock off the remaining tendrils and he clambered back to his feet. “I don’t need you! And I don’t want you, either! Have fun watching me become the hottest thing in Pride! Wishing you’d been smart enough to get in on it before you became a washed-up, forgotten has-been.” 

“Ha! Such fantasies! You always did have unrealistic dreams.” His features shifted back to normal, though he still glared at Vox with a sharp, dangerous smile. “Farewell, Vox. It was not a pleasure.”

Now Alastor glared up at him from the ground, his lips pulled back in a snarl as he attempted to push himself to his feet. Vox’s hand immediately came down on his shoulder, forcing him back down. “I said this is a good look for you,” he repeated viciously.

Alastor’s smile thinned, but he said nothing. Clearly, he didn’t want to give Vox the satisfaction of complaining. Well, too fucking bad.

Vox leaned down, grinning down at his new acquisition. “So, how’s it feel to know I own you?”  

“Annoying,” he replied casually, his smile turning mocking.

The television demon’s eyes narrowed and the chain vanished as he reared back to slap him hard enough to send him splaying onto his back. “Funny,” he spat. “How’s it really feel?” 

Alastor pushed himself up again to meet his eyes defiantly. “Unfortunate.”

Vox slapped him, knocking him down again. “Try again!”

They continued like that for a little while.

“Tiresome.”

Slap.

“Dull.”

Slap.

“Tedious.”

Slap.

“Banal.”

Kick.

“Inconvenient.”

Slap, kick.

“Irritating.”

Slap.

“Exasperating.”

Kick.

“Irksome.”

Vox could, of course, order Alastor to answer honestly, but he was having too much fun. He rammed his knee into Alastor’s face as he attempted to push himself up again, immediately following the action up by grabbing hold of the demon’s collar and throwing him back into the wall. A moment later, he stepped over him, a foot positioned on either side of Alastor’s waist.

“Let’s try this again,” he hissed as he squatted down and braced his hands on his knees, his gleeful smile contrasting with his fierce glare. “And I want to hear some honesty. How does it feel to be mine?”  

Alastor’s expression was furious as he attempted to push back into the floor and wall to put some distance between them. “Humiliating,” he finally spat, radio static nearly completely obscuring his voice.

Vox smirked. “There we are,” he hummed and he sank down so that he was fully sitting on Alastor, straddling his waist. He brought a hand up to card through his hair, the thrill the action brought him disproportionate to the act itself. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Fuck you.”

Vox laughed, delighted that he had driven him to the point of swearing. “Now, now, Alastor. Play nice.” His fist tightened in his hair, yanking his head back roughly to hit the wall.

Alastor grunted at the impact, baring his teeth at him. “I supposed you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? It must be a real dream come true for you.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled eagerly, hand releasing Alastor’s hair in favor of trailing down over his shoulder, to his chest. Fuck, he was already hard having Alastor beneath him like this, completely at his mercy. He’d always wondered what it would be like to fuck the Radio Demon. And now he could finally find out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to Alastor’s ear. “I’ve had so many dreams like this, you don’t even know,” he purred, rolling his hips against his stomach.

Alastor went rigid beneath him. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice more strained now than when Vox had been throwing him around.

Vox chuckled as his other hand found Alastor’s waist, just above where it was framed by his knee, and he squeezed possessively. “Deciding where to start.” He nipped lightly at his ear before straightening up. Beneath him, Alastor stared up at him with wide, almost alarmed eyes. Vox licked his lips. “There’s just so much I want to do.”

The Radio Demon’s smile was as tense as Vox had ever seen it. “I don’t suppose any of it involves getting off of me?”  

“Oh, very little does, actually,” he laughed, sliding both hands up Alastor’s chest until his fingers brushed against his throat. He was wearing far too many layers, and Vox couldn’t wait to remove all of them. But did he want to rip them off now, or make Alastor do it?

Alastor laughed, but the noise sounded forced. “My, Vox, you finally get the Radio Demon under contract, and this is what you do with me? I knew you were desperate, but this is truly pathetic.”

Vox growled. “Oh, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I have so much planned for you.” One of his hands encircled Alastor’s throat, applying light pressure. He could feel the deer demon’s pulse beating frantically, his breathing coming heavier now. Vox drank it in, leering down at him. “What’s wrong, baby? You seem tense.”

“Merely uncomfortable,” he seethed through gritted teeth, shifting beneath him in demonstration, and clearly having no idea of the way the movement teased against Vox, causing the television demon to suck in a sharp breath. Alastor immediately stilled. “And is the pet name necessary?”

“You have something you’d prefer?” he teased as he leaned back against Alastor’s knees that had come up behind him. “Babe? Sugar? Gorgeous? Bambi? Deer?”  

“None of the above,” he ground out.

Vox just laughed. “Yeah? Well, too fucking bad. I’m calling you whatever I want. And I’m doing to you whatever I want. Because I own you, babe.” He allowed his claws to press down slightly as he ran his hands back down Alastor’s chest - not enough to so much as rip his jacket, but the threat was clearly there. 

“I will find a way to get out of this contract, Vox,” Alastor growled. “And when I do, I will take retribution in your flesh.”  

He rolled his eyes at the clear bluff. “You do that, sugar. Though, speaking of your contract…” Vox had so many questions burning in him, almost as intently as the heat coiling in his belly. Alastor had always been a man of mysteries. Even when they’d been friends all those years ago, he’d only allowed Vox to know surface-level facts about himself. But now Vox could finally get some answers. Stripping the Radio Demon’s mental defenses as well as his clothing, so that he would be laid completely bare before him. 

“Yeah, let’s start with that,” he thought aloud as he rose back to his feet. He took a step back to give Alastor freedom of movement; though he never removed his eyes from the Radio Demon as he also scrambled to his feet the moment he got the opportunity, the barest hint of relief flashing in his eyes. “I’m going to ask you some questions. And you’re going to answer completely and honestly.”

There was power behind Vox’s words, an order that thrummed through the chain that bound them together. Alastor could fight against it, of course, but it would be painful to do so, and he’d have to give in eventually.

He could feel Alastor’s reluctance straining against the command, but he was surprised when it only lasted for a moment before he submitted. He nodded sharply, though his teeth were still bared in something of a snarl. After casting a quick glance around the room, he walked over and took a seat on the couch, crossing one leg primly over the other. If Vox didn’t know him better, he’d say that his smile when he turned to face him had morphed into something almost relaxed. 

“Ask away!”

Chapter Text

“Okay, let’s start with the big one.” Vox walked over to take a seat on the couch next to Alastor, turning sideways in his seat to face him with his arm draped over the back. “How did you of all people wind up on Mephisto’s leash?”

Alastor’s expression was unreadable as he turned his head to look at him. “Are you aware of how Mephisto obtained the majority of his souls?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a shrug. “Figured it was just like every other Overlord. Sure, I never saw him making any moves, but the guy was ancient.”

“Hm, indeed. Ancient enough that humans have been summoning and selling their souls to him for millenia.”

“Wait…” Vox pulled a knee up onto the couch as he leaned forward in interest, much like he used to whenever Alastor would share something with him. “You’re saying he collected the souls of people before they died?”

“Yes. Of course, the souls were useless to him while the individual lived, but the moment they died, they would land in Hell with their soul already bound to him. It was a method that worked quite well for him.”

“So, you sold your soul while you were alive?” he realized, surprised by the revelation. “What for?” 

Alastor’s smile thinned slightly. “I wager you remember that I was a serial killer when I was alive,” he said, a note of reluctance in his voice.

Oh fuck, did Vox remember that. That conversation would be forever etched into his memory. They’d been sitting on a couch much as they were now, though each of them had had a glass of whiskey in their hand and their smiles at the time had been genuine and easy-going…

“So yeah, that’s definitely some wrath, a bit of pride and envy, and a whole lot of greed,” Vox concluded his speculation on what had landed him in Hell. Mostly shady business dealings, really. “Oh, but I definitely experienced my fair share of lust, too. And if you asked my parents, I’m sure they’d say that’s why I’m here.” He scowled as he took a drink, and then promptly pushed the sour memories away. “But what about you? What do you think landed you here?”

Alastor swallowed the sip he had just taken of his rye and fixed Vox with his staple smile. “Oh, I know exactly what did. I killed 66 people!”

Vox blinked, and it took him a moment to fully digest that before his eyes flew wide. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he twisted to face his friend more directly. “You were a fucking serial killer!”

“Yes,” he chuckled as he regarded Vox’s eager expression. “I daresay you sound almost excited by that, my friend.”

He shrugged, only a little sheepish. “Well, I had a bit of an interest in serial killers back when I was alive. Found them fascinating. Spent an embarrassing amount of time researching them.” He laughed as he reached forward to set his glass down on the coffee table before turning his attention back to Alastor, pulling his knee up on the couch so he could lean in slightly. “So, don’t be coy, now. How’d you kill them? And how’d you choose your victims? Did you have a type?”

Alastor appeared both amused and delighted by his questions. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly stick to one method! There were so many ways to try, and variety is the spice of life, as they say. How I got my victims, though, that I perfected down to a science. I would find a well-off man, most often tourists, drinking alone in the Quarter and observe his interactions, particularly how he treated the locals. If I found him to be… not to my liking, we’ll say - I would follow him when he left and choke him unconscious. I would then take him home to have some fun before ending his life.”

Vox had stopped breathing halfway through Alastor’s answer, and he had to take a shaky breath before speaking. “The Quarter?”

“Hm, the French Quarter,” he elaborated. “Have you been?”

“Once.” He swallowed thickly, a hand fisting in the fabric of his slacks. “You killed 66 men in the French Quarter in the early 30s?” he clarified slowly. “And you recorded the audio of your kills?”

Alastor blinked and his smile grew wider. “Some of them; though, I don’t believe I disclosed that little detail.”

Vox knew he had to look half-crazed, eyes wide, blood leaking from his mouth, but he didn’t care. “You were the Louisiana Butcher,” he gasped, hardly able to believe it.

“Is that what they called me?” he hummed, his eyes dancing. “Not a terrible name. You were a fan, I take it?”

“Fuck, yeah! You were my favorite. You’re why I visited New Orleans. Wanted to see your hunting ground in person. Always wished I could have met you.”

Alastor laughed. “My dear Vox, from everything you’ve told me, it sounds as though had we lived at the same time and crossed paths, you would have ended up as one of my victims!”

Vox’s screen glitched, and he really hoped that he was being subtle as he grabbed a throw pillow and pulled it over his lap. “Well, no hard feelings!” He cleared his throat. “Tell me about your favorite kill?” 

“Oh, I remember,” Vox assured him with a slight smirk.

“Of course you do.” Alastor tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “It would almost be adorable how you were so obsessed with me in both life and death, if it weren’t so annoying. But to answer your question, I asked Mephistopheles for the means to overpower and hurt my targets.”

He scoffed. “So, the reason you were such a great serial killer wasn’t even you! It was all Mephisto!” He didn’t know whether to find that more relieving or disappointing. He wanted to mock Alastor for it, but fuck, he had been such a fan at one point.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “He gave me the power I needed, but it was all still me.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “So, what happened when you landed in Hell?”

His smile sharpened. “Ah. Well, it seems that my deal with Mephisto was a bit different from the previous deals he had made. Riches, knowledge, success in life I believe were what most people asked of him. But what he granted me was the ability to defeat all those who drew my ire.” As if to illustrate his point, his eyes transformed into radio dials, and his antlers crept up just a bit higher over his head, and Vox understood.

“The Overlords,” he breathed in realization. No one had ever understood how Alastor, a newcomer in Hell, had had enough power to take down some of the most powerful Overlords in Pride. Mephisto had fucked up his contract, forgotten to put an expiration date, and as a result Alastor had become even more powerful.

“Indeed,” Alastor confirmed. “Of course, that attracted Mephisto’s attention. He had new souls arriving in Hell all the time and never paid them much mind until he had a need. But once I’d gone and made a name for himself, he had to change his approach. Though I suspect he wasn’t entirely disappointed. With the power I’d gained, I became significantly more useful to him; he simply kept me on a bit of a tighter leash as far as who I was allowed to target.”

That… made a lot of sense. And filled in a lot of blanks of Alastor’s cryptic past. But there were also some more recent mysteries that Vox still wanted answers to. “And your seven-year absence? What was that about?”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively. “I was on Earth. Some of Mephisto’s contracts required a more hands-on approach, I’m sure you’ll find as you sort through them. He didn’t want to take the time needed to fulfill his side of the bargain in-person, so he sent me in his stead! It was a rather boring job, guarding a particularly paranoid fool. I was quite pleased when I found that the verbiage of the contract specified protection from other people, and not from any natural disasters! Though of course he didn’t realize that when he told me to monitor the storm and took my advice implicitly.”

Vox dissolved into laughter. “Oh, that’s fucking great!”

“His face at the end was priceless,” he reminisced with a sigh. 

“I can’t believe he lasted seven years!”

“He played it depressingly safe for the first few before he finally got comfortable enough to let his guard down. And then he started to think he could order me around!”

Vox snorted, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Moron.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed in agreement.

He fixed him with a lopsided smile, his eyes raking over his form. The familiar ache to touch him was setting in, and then he remembered that he could. “C’mere,” he beckoned, twisting so that both feet were back on the floor. He patted his lap.

Alastor hesitated, straining against the command, even as gentle as it had been. Then he slowly scooted closer so he was sitting just a hair's breadth away from Vox. He stopped there, eyeing him warily. 

Vox rolled his eyes and reached over to grab his waist and haul him onto his lap. Alastor huffed, but didn’t resist, bracing his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Vox’s head as he straddled his legs. The television demon smirked up at him, thumbs tracing circles on his hips. “That’s better.”

“And here I thought it was just your associate that treated his souls like this,” Alastor murmured, glaring at the wall.

He chuckled. “Oh, this is just for you, sweetheart.”

“I see…” His gaze shifted down to his screen and he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I did wonder at times with the way you looked at me back in the day… I had just hoped I was wrong.”

Vox scowled. “What? My attraction too much for you to handle?”

He laughed coldly. “Not at all! I simply found it disgusting.”  

The remnants of Vox’s playful mood died and he snarled angrily. His hands tightened on Alastor’s hips and he tugged him roughly forward so that they were flush against each other. He heard the sound of ripping fabric and realized that Alastor’s claws had dug into the back of his couch. Well, that was irritating, but it was nothing more than a distant annoyance in the back of his mind, at the moment.

“Well, you’d better get used to it, Bambi,” Vox purred dangerously. “I expect you in my room by ten o’clock every night. Don’t be late. If I’m not here, just be a good boy and wait for me, understood?”

Alastor’s lip curled, and while he remained perfectly still, Vox could feel him rebelling against the command. Finally, he gave a sharp, jerking nod. 

Vox grinned. “Unless I say otherwise, you can return to your tacky hotel during the day. Do whatever it is you do there. Which brings me to my last question! Why are you helping out there, anyway?”

“As I said, I was gone for seven long, boring years,” he explained through gritted teeth, clearly still upset about the manhandling. “I needed some entertainment, and the hotel is a perfect source!”

“Seriously? It’s just about entertainment?” he demanded skeptically.

Alastor rolled his eyes, and Vox allowed him to scoot back slightly to be able to look at him easier. “I literally can’t lie to you right now, Vox! After our falling out, I was running low on options to amuse myself with, and then my seven years on Earth just exacerbated that need. So, I suppose you could say that they fill the same role that you once did!”

“Well, I suppose you do have sadly few friends,” he reasoned, his voice taking on a mocking tone.

“Ah-hah! I was talking about entertainment, Vox, not friends!”

Angry sparks flashed over Vox’s screen. “Oh, of course! How could I forget that all I was to you was just fucking entertainment! You- wait.” He paused, holding Alastor’s cool gaze with a fevered intensity. “I changed my mind. One more question. Was I just entertainment to you?”

He could feel Alastor digging his heels in against the command, but the answer was pulled from him, regardless. “No,” he snarled. There was the sound of more tearing fabric as he was forced to continue. “I enjoyed your company. At least until you went and ruined it!”  

Vox’s screen glitched in his surprise at the admission. Even though he hadn’t been able to resist asking the question, he hadn’t actually expected to get the answer he wanted. Though Alastor’s last sentence still irked him. “I didn’t ruin anything!” he protested.

“Oh, but you did,” he growled.

“All I did was stop letting you walk all over me!” He scoffed. “Which yeah, I guess to you, that would be ruining it.” He shook his head. “Whatever. I guess that’s all my questions for now.”

“Then may I ask one?” Alastor asked, calming now that the subject had changed. 

Vox considered that for a second before he shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Mephistopheles believed it was more to his advantage to keep his… ownership of me private. Making me a secret weapon, of sorts. What will you do?” He asked the question as though it was no more than idle curiosity that prompted it, but obviously Vox knew better. He could tear down Alastor’s entire image in a matter of seconds. It would be a devastating blow, and one that Vox had of course considered. But…

His hands squeezed Alastor’s hips possessively. “Oh, I think I’m going to keep you to myself for now.”

Alastor’s expression remained impassive, but Vox could feel him relax at his words. “I see.”

Vox laughed. “You know, you could say thank you for not humiliating you in front of all of Hell.”

He arched an eyebrow at him. “To be perfectly honest, I’m unconvinced that you won’t be doing that by some other means.”

“Hm, fair!” he admitted with a smile. “But not just yet.” His eyes drifted down to Alastor’s torso as his hands trailed up and down his sides. Alright, he’d waited long enough. “Get up.”

Alastor wasted no time in following the command. The faint surprise on his face faded into apprehension as he registered the eagerness in Vox’s eyes, the blood leaking from his mouth.

Vox leered up at him, hardly able to control the excitement in his voice. “Strip for me. Slowly.”  

Oh, and now Alastor was really fighting against the command. He stumbled back a step, fists clenched so tightly at his sides that blood dripped to the ground. “I will kill you,” he hissed through his teeth.

Vox raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You can’t. Now strip.”  

A strangled sound was ripped from Alastor’s throat and he raised his hands slowly, reluctantly, to start on the buttons of his coat. Vox breathed out a long, low breath and he leaned back on the couch, legs falling open as he relaxed and enjoyed the show.

Alastor slipped off his coat, and Vox chuckled when he proceeded to fold it and set it down neatly on the couch. As he drew his hand back, moving up to his bowtie, Vox noticed that it was shaking. How adorable.

He let his tie drop on top of his coat and his hands seemed to spasm at his sides for a moment before he bent down to remove his boots, revealing his red and black hooves. The first bit of Alastor that Vox had never been permitted to see before. 

A fire breaking out in his apartment couldn’t tear Vox’s eyes away as Alastor stepped back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, eyes locked on the wall above Vox’s head, and he began slowly unfastening the buttons of his shirt. A needy sound that was definitely not a whine tore itself from Vox’s throat and his hand slid to caress the straining bulge in his pants. 

“Eyes on me,” Vox commanded, not caring how breathless he sounded.

There was a small, discomforted squeak as Alastor’s panicked gaze snapped down to lock onto Vox, his ears pinned back against his skull. If looks could kill, that one would do it, but Vox didn’t care. He had always been happy to soak up any attention that Alastor would give him, and the visual of the Radio Demon holding eye-contact with him as he exposed far more skin than he ever allowed anyone to see was almost too much.  

Vox groaned, giving himself a light squeeze through his pants. 

“You look quite pathetic right now,” Alastor murmured, but the jab was forced, lacking the usual bite.

“You’re one to talk.” He licked his lips as Alastor finally removed his shirt, and he itched to explore every inch of the skin that was now on display for him. But he forced himself to hold back, wanting Alastor to bare all of himself to him first.

Alastor seemed to spend even longer folding his shirt than he had his coat, and Vox clicked his tongue impatiently, holding out his unoccupied hand for the piece of clothing. Alastor grudgingly handed it off, and Vox tossed it haphazardly onto the pile of clothes that was forming beside him, being sure not to take his eyes off of Alastor as the deer demon moved onto removing his pants. 

It took him a couple attempts to unclasp them due to his shaking hands, and then he grit his teeth and slid them down his legs, which much like his arms, faded into a darker grey below the knee. Vox could feel his system kicking into overdrive, his fans whirring to prevent him from overheating. He planted his foot where the dark red fabric had pooled on the floor and dragged the pants away before Alastor could even try to waste time folding them.

“Could you at least pick them up without leaving a shoe print on the material?” Alastor complained as his hands hesitated at the waistband of his red boxers. 

“Yo-you’re l-lucky I’m leaving y-you with any clo-othes at all,” Vox growled, his voice nearly completely corrupted by static. “Kee-ep going.”  

He took a deep breath, tried to squeeze his eyes shut before evidently realizing that Vox’s previous order prevented that, and then rid himself of the last of his clothing.

Vox drew in a sharp breath, and a second later was on his feet, crowding into Alastor’s personal space. “Fu-uck. You’re beautiful,” he breathed. He reached eagerly for his waist, but the second he made contact, Alastor jerked back, the reaction seemingly involuntary as it resulted in him stumbling to the floor.

Vox laughed softly. “You okay, baby?” He extended a hand to help him up, but of course Alastor ignored it.

“No, I’m not okay,” he snarled as he pushed himself back to his feet, crossing his arms over himself as a make-shift barrier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous,” he mused, reaching out and cupping Alastor’s jaw, despite his attempt to flinch away. “It’s almost like you’ve never done this before.”

Alastor’s expression twisted sardonically. “I wonder why that could be,” he muttered dryly. 

Vox blinked, and then his eyes flew wide as he realized what he was saying. “Wait - seriously? You? One of the sexiest beings in Pride, and you’ve never…?” Of course, he’d noticed that Alastor never seemed interested when people made advances towards him, but still, he’d assumed that at some point… “What about when you were alive?”

“I never had any interest in such acts in life or death, so no.” His smile was thin and strained, barely there really. Oh, this went beyond nerves, didn’t it? Even beyond his hatred for Vox.

“How far have you gone, then?” he asked curiously.

Alastor blinked in surprise at the question, and he had to take a moment to think about it. “Someone tried to kiss me once. I killed him.”

Vox’s mouth dropped open as much as it was able within the confines of his screen. Holy shit. Alastor was as fucking virgin as you could get. Holy shit. “Fuck, babe,” he murmured. “Didn’t realize you were so innocent.”  

Alastor scowled. 

Vox bit his lip, thinking fast. On the one hand, this was amazing. He was going to be Alastor’s first everything. But on the other…. The idea of Alastor being terrified of him was great fun, but in this context, it felt different… less than pleasant. Fucking dammit! Why couldn’t he just enjoy this?

He closed his eyes. Okay, he could work with this. Alastor had a lot of firsts in front of him, and maybe it would be good for Vox to take his time, to truly revel in each first he took from him. He could take it slow, soak it all in. And maybe it would be better that way. Yeah, that could work. Savoring the experience would just make it that much sweeter.

A sly smile spread over his screen as he opened his eyes. “Alright, we’ll take it slow, then. And I’m going to enjoy stripping away your virginity piece by piece, as you give every bit of yourself to me.” Surprised uncertainty flashed across Alastor’s face before he quickly composed himself. “But I suppose for now I should get you something to preserve your innocence,” Vox continued with a wink before turning and making his way over to his dresser to rifle through the top drawer. 

“I could simply put my clothing back on,” Alastor pointed out.

“No.” He smirked as he found the perfect thing and turned back around, tossing it over to him. “You’ll wear that.”

*

Alastor’s mind was reeling. There was a hint of relief bubbling beneath the surface, but he knew better than to let it take hold. So, Vox wanted to take things slow. All that did was put off what Alastor was quickly realizing was the inevitable. And besides, Vox was fickle and couldn’t be trusted. He would not allow himself to relax even a little bit. 

He caught the article of clothing that the television demon threw his way and unfolded it to reveal a pair of blue boxers that mercifully offered as much coverage as his own. He scoffed as he turned them around to see Vox’s cyan ‘V’ symbol accompanying the words ‘RADIO IS DEAD’ in red, blocky letters. How incredibly tacky, but he’d take what he could get. He decided not to give Vox the satisfaction of complaining about it, instead pulling the garment on wordlessly. He was still certainly far more exposed than he liked to be, but this was at least manageable. 

Vox began moving back in his direction, and Alastor watched him carefully through narrowed eyes, immediately put back on alert. He didn’t approach him, though; instead reclaiming his seat on the hideously modern couch. 

“They look good on you,” Vox commented, his eyes roaming obviously over Alastor’s form in a way that made his skin crawl. “Come back over here.” He patted his lap, very clearly indicating that that was where he should sit. 

Alastor sighed, feeling the command thrumming through his chain and knowing that he couldn’t refuse. His hands curled into fists, but he walked forward resignedly and once again straddled Vox’s lap, trying to keep at least some distance between their torsos. It was even more uncomfortable than it had been the first time, now with less layers between them, but at least Vox was still clothed. For now. Alastor’s stomach twisted with dread.

“Good boy,” Vox purred sickeningly, and then laughed at the reaction that garnered. “You really do look like a deer in the headlights!” He reached up a hand to cup Alastor’s cheek, tracing his thumb along the edge of his sharp, uncomfortable smile. “Relax, honey. I told you we’re taking this slow.”

“I’ll relax when you’re dead,” he growled in a low voice. 

“Oh, I bet I can make you relax.” A hand came up to squeeze Alastor’s bare waist, achieving the opposite of relaxation. “Kiss me.”

Alastor stiffened at the order, his collar burning around his neck as his first instinct was to refuse. It was useless, though - Vox wouldn’t back down. All Alastor could do was keep the kiss chaste. He knew that Vox would undoubtedly demand more, but he would take what liberties he could in the meantime. 

Alastor let out a low snarl in protest as he leaned in, but the hand on his face stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips. He wanted nothing more than to bite it off.

“Like you mean it,” Vox added, voice low and heated. 

Dammit. 

Vox’s hand slid back to twist in his hair - just resting there without applying any pressure. Clearly he wanted the satisfaction of forcing Alastor to make the first move. And Alastor didn’t know whether he preferred it this way or not. He didn’t want to kiss Vox, and it was revolting to be the one to initiate the action, but at the same time, it did offer him some modicum of control, even if it was just an illusion of it. 

Alastor brought his hands to either side of Vox’s screen, applying enough pressure so that there was nothing tender or sweet in the gesture. And then he leaned in and kissed him.

The sensation was… interesting, he supposed. He’d never considered before what Vox’s lips would feel like, but if he had, he was sure he would have assumed them to be cool and unyielding, considering the glass screen that served as his face. Yet that wasn’t the case. His lips were surprisingly fleshy and warm. Staticky too. Vox immediately hummed against his lips, returning the kiss with eager desperation.

And now Alastor wasn’t quite sure what to do. He’d been commanded to kiss Vox like he meant it, but just how did one do that? He’d had absolutely no experience with this kind of thing. Tongue was often involved, right? He flicked his tongue against Vox’s lips experimentally, and they instantly parted for him, allowing it to slip inside.

Alastor set to exploring Vox’s mouth, admittedly a little curious about the television’s anatomy. Vox’s tongue met his and… oh. Now that was interesting. His tongue was electric. Alastor made a low noise in the back of his throat as his tongue entangled with Vox’s and he pulled it into his mouth, wanting to know how it would feel. It was like sucking on a live wire.

Vox moaned into his mouth, the hand in his hair tightening to the point that it was pulling painfully. But at least pain was something Alastor was familiar with, comfortable with, even. As opposed to Vox’s arousal that he could feel pressing into his hip. 

Alastor did his best to push that from his mind, and thankfully Vox chose that moment to scrape his teeth over his tongue. Oh, well if teeth were an option…. He caught Vox’s lower lip between his incisors, biting down as much as he could while being restrained from causing deliberate harm to the demon that held his chain. It really was nice that his teeth were so sharp. He was able to draw blood even without applying much pressure, and then he latched onto Vox’s lip, licking up his blood with a pleased hum. He tasted delicious. His blood thrummed with power, and Alastor yearned for more.  

Vox broke the kiss, panting, his eyes wide and almost crazed. “Fu-uck, Al-l-stor. Th-that xcz-” He took a deep breath in an attempt to get his glitching under control. “You are too good at that for having never done it before,” he finally managed. 

Alastor found himself smirking slightly. The way he had been able to drive Vox into such a state with so little effort showed that Alastor still held some power over the other Overlord. It wasn’t power he particularly wanted, but it was power, all the same. Still, he dropped his hands to the back of the couch to at least have a couple less points of contact.

“So…” Vox’s hand carded through his hair, his smile becoming cocky once again. “Your first real kiss. What’d you think?”

Alastor rolled his eyes. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he’d thought about the kiss. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing he had ever endured, but he also had no desire to repeat the experience. Though he wouldn’t mind another taste of Vox’s blood. Beyond that, he didn’t particularly care to scrutinize his thoughts on the matter. Once was more than enough, so why would he make himself relive it just to analyze how he felt?

“I think it’s pathetic that you have to resort to ordering your souls to give you physical affection,” he answered brightly. Vox would be easier to handle if he was angry, anyway. His fury causing him to fly off the rails, making him murderous and cruel, that would be familiar and welcome. Alastor could handle his rage, could even handle his pathetic bids for attention, but this… this was a beast that Alastor didn’t quite know how to deal with.

Vox, for once, didn’t take the bait. “You do realize that I have a smoking hot boyfriend who is literally one of the most desired demons in Pride, right?”

Alastor had never cared enough to know that, actually, but he could make an educated guess that Vox was referring to Valentino. “And does he know what you’re doing right now?” 

“No. But he’s probably sucking some else’s face right now, anyway.” He rolled his eyes, clearly unconcerned. His hand moved to rub the base of Alastor’s ear, eliciting a surprised squeak from the deer demon at the new sensation. Vox laughed in response. “That feel good, Bambi?”

Alastor glared at him. “Mm, so good that I want to rip your hand off,” he growled through a strained smile. 

Vox just smirked and gripped his ear tighter, watching as it flicked irritably. “I want you to touch me more this time.”

He snarled low in his throat as he was pulled back in for another kiss. Vox attacked his mouth greedily, and while the kiss itself certainly wasn’t Alastor’s cup of tea, the electricity that tongue was pumping into his mouth was admittedly quite riveting. Especially when it flicked against his teeth and blood bloomed on its surface.

Alastor growled, catching Vox’s tongue between his teeth as it attempted to retreat. He lapped up the blood eagerly, and if he happened to draw more while holding his tongue in place… well, Vox shouldn’t have tried to pull it away. And if the television demon’s wanton moans were anything to go by, he didn’t mind. 

Fulfilling Vox’s order, Alastor’s hands roamed over the casing around his screen. Vox hadn’t specified to be gentle, so of course, Alastor wasn’t. He may not be able to deliberately hurt him, but if his claw happened to catch on a vent here or there… oops.

Vox’s hands, meanwhile, were both in his hair, the one still incessantly rubbing at his ear. In retaliation, Alastor raised his hand to the top of Vox’s screen and curled his fist firmly around an antennae. The electricity that shot up his arm was even more potent than what he received from his tongue. Vox gasped into his mouth, the sound quickly morphing into a keening sound as his hands tightened in Alastor’s hair and he attempted to drag his face even closer.

Alastor quickly released the antennae. He didn’t mind the electricity, but he was definitely not enthused with Vox’s response. His hand moved back to the top of Vox’s head, letting his claws skim along the plastic casing. One of Vox’s hands dropped from his hair, and a moment later, Alastor startled as he felt something brush against his chest.

He pulled back to see that Vox was in the process of unbuttoning his vest. He grinned at Alastor’s wariness. “Getting a little hot in here.” He shrugged out of the vest and moved onto removing his bowtie. He discarded both on the couch beside them, and then brought his hand to the buttons of his shirt before pausing. He bit his lip, looking up at the demon on his lap. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for permission?” he asked incredulously. “Because you won’t get it.”

Vox scowled. “No,” he snapped. He made short work of the buttons of his shirt before shrugging out of it as well. And then he was grabbing Alastor’s hair again, hauling him back in for another heated kiss.

It wasn’t until a minute into this kiss that it occurred to Alastor that he hadn’t been given instruction to reciprocate this time. His response had been automatic. That was… mildly disconcerting. 

His thoughts were derailed when an arm tightened around his back and a hand dropped beneath his thigh, hiking it up as Vox rose to his feet. Alastor reluctantly wrapped his legs around the television demon’s waist to ensure that he wasn’t dropped, feeling a bit of relief as the hand on his thigh relocated to his back. Relief that altogether vanished when Vox proceeded to dump him onto the bed. 

Alastor scrambled back away from the other demon, his ears flattening against his head.

“Calm down, baby,” Vox chuckled as he laid down on the bed beside him. “I just needed to change positions.” He rolled onto his side and reached out to cup Alastor’s cheek, turning his head to face him. Alastor glared at him through narrowed eyes, but Vox just grabbed hold of his jaw and kissed him again. 

Alastor had already decided that he wouldn’t reciprocate this time. He remained entirely rigid as Vox pressed his mouth to his, as his tongue danced over his lips before forcing entry. Vox made a sort of exasperated sound in the back of his throat, and he drew back slightly, just enough to be able to sink his teeth into his own lip. Alastor’s eyes blew wide at the blood that welled up there, and then Vox had closed the distance again and an embarrassing moan was torn from Alastor’s throat as he was permitted to taste. 

The kiss resumed with a fevered intensity from both demons, each trying to get as much of the other as they could, albeit in different ways. Alastor was vaguely aware of the way Vox was pressed against his side, the way his erection ground against his hip, but he found it easy enough to ignore. 

Vox’s moans were becoming louder, more desperate. There was almost a note of pain in the sound that Alastor found to be delicious. Oh, how he longed to torture Vox. To tie him down and carve into his flesh. He wouldn’t wait until he was dead to eat him. No, he’d rip flesh from bone with his teeth, and Vox would have no choice but to watch as his body was devoured before his very eyes. His screams would be beautiful. 

Vox cried into his mouth, claws cutting into his shoulder where he gripped him, pelvis pressing against him insistently. And then he stilled, and Alastor realized with more than a little distaste what had just happened. 

“Fuck,” Vox breathed as he pulled away from him, his eyes wide and smile elated. “Can’t believe you just made me cum in my pants like a horny teenager,” he said with a laugh. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Alastor immediately protested, lip curling.

“Oh, trust me, you did.” He licked his lips and his eyes roamed over Alastor hungrily. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

He scoffed. “Did I enjoy you humping my leg like a dog in heat? Let me think about that - no.”  

Vox’s eyes narrowed irritably. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me none of that did anything for you?”

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did anything for me?” he repeated, unfamiliar with the phrasing. 

“Turned you on,” he clarified with an amused snort, propping his head up on his hand, his elbow resting on a pillow.

“Ah.” His smile sharpened uncomfortably. “No, then.”

Vox’s expression fell slightly. “Fuck, seriously? Okay, what does get you turned on, then?”

Alastor blinked, unsure of how to answer that. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not something I’ve experienced.”

He pushed himself to sit up, looking down at Alastor with an expression of pure disbelief. “Bullshit,” he accused, voice hard. “What gets you hard? What do you think about when you jack off? Answer honestly.”

His ears flicked in annoyance at the crass question, but he supposed he shouldn’t have expected any better from Vox. “I already told you that I have no interest in such vulgar acts. So, what makes you think that I would engage in… that?” 

“Uh, cause it feels good. Shit. You really are just fucking precious, aren’t you?” He grabbed Alastor roughly by the ear, forcing him to look up at him. “You’re not going to ruin this for me. You’re only allowed to explore this shit with me. No touching yourself, no messing around with anyone else to spite me. Got it?”

Alastor’s answering snarl was more in response to the rough treatment of his ear than the command. “I didn’t plan to,” he ground out. 

“Good.” Vox smirked and his hand trailed down to brush against Alastor’s cheek. “You are all mine, Al.” His thumb traced along his lower lip, and Alastor bared his teeth in response. Vox chuckled and withdrew his hand, pulling away from him completely as he got to his feet. “You relax, make yourself comfy. I need to change.”

Alastor slipped beneath the blue silk sheets, finding the material almost overwhelming against his bare skin, but at least he was able to cover himself up. He pulled it tighter around himself as Vox peeled off his pants. Ah. Alastor probably should have suspected that Vox would be crude enough to simply strip with him in the room; he wasn’t sure why he had expected anything else.

He made to turn away, but Vox’s undergarment caught his eye. It was a match for the one he had given Alastor to wear - blue with red, blocky text over a cyan ‘V’ across the rear - but the text on Vox’s pair read ‘FUCK ALASTOR’.

Alastor let out an amused snort that had Vox turning to look suspiciously at him over his shoulder. “Nice underwear.”

Vox glanced down at his boxers, then back up with a smirk. “Yeah? You like ‘em?” He wiggled his hips a little. “Bet you’d like them better on the floor.”

He scowled and promptly turned away, rolling onto his side to face the opposite wall. He didn’t particularly like having his back to Vox, but it wasn’t as though it made much difference anymore. Vox no longer needed to catch Alastor vulnerable, no longer needed to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. He could take whatever he wanted from Alastor whenever he pleased. What a sickening prospect. 

He felt the bed dip as Vox crawled under the covers with him, and a moment later, he stiffened as the television demon pressed up against his back, arms wrapping around him. 

“What are you doing?” Alastor demanded through gritted teeth. 

“Cuddling.” Though he couldn’t see his face, Alastor could hear the smirk in Vox’s voice. “I like holding what’s mine.” His hand splayed over his chest possessively, prompting Alastor to growl and grind his teeth together. 

“Goodnight, Alastor,” Vox purred, giving him a faint squeeze. 

Alastor said nothing. And he refused to fall asleep, not even wanting to consider what Vox might do to him if he did. He laid in Vox’s arms, fists clenched in the covers, and glared at the wall until the sun came up.

Chapter Text

Alastor dressed and left V Tower the moment the sun rose, the moment he was able. How disgusting to be so beholden to Vox, to have to go to him every night and slink away from him every morning. This was by far the most restrained he had ever felt under his contract. 

He hadn’t been entirely certain of what to expect from Vox. Public embarrassment had seemed almost inevitable, and he’d definitely anticipated frivolous orders just to put him in his place. He had considered that Vox might force him to do something like join the Vees, as he had once so desperately wanted. Force him to work with him publicly, subservient to him. He’d been sure that there would be violence. That Vox would milk the opportunity to hurt Alastor now that he could no longer retaliate. But it hadn’t even crossed his mind that Vox might demand his body in other ways. 

Alastor raised a hand to his lips, remembering the static that had sparked against them as Vox had kissed him. Was this what the rest of his eternity in Hell would look like? Vox putting his hands all over him, kissing him, claiming him as his? How revolting. Maybe he should consider this whole redemption thing, after all. Ha! At least he could still find something to laugh about.

He kept to himself that morning - taking a nap to make up for not sleeping at all, and then cleaning up the damage he had wrought on his room the day before. A little after noon, a knock sounded at his bedroom door. He sighed, depositing the last of the debris into a pile before going to open the door. 

“Husker! To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked upon seeing who was on the other side. 

“I-” The winged cat broke off as he saw the state of the room behind him. It was much better than it had been, but the remnants of his destruction were still recognizable. “What happened in here?”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Nothing of your concern. Now, what is it?” he demanded waspishly. 

Husk looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he wisely held himself back, shaking his head. “Vox is about to give a press conference. Given your history and the fact that he just inherited a whole lot of power, I figured you might be interested in what he has to say.”

“Oh, I definitely am,” he murmured, a steely glint in his eyes. He nodded for Husk to start walking, and he followed, shutting the door behind him.

Everyone else was already in the lounge, seated around the television. Alastor moved to stand behind the couch, while Husk took the remaining armchair. Vox was already on screen, prattling on about Mephistopheles underestimating him, the television demon’s ego on full display.

“What are your plans with this new power?” a reporter asked excitedly. 

“Well, of course, this just gives me even greater means to bring the people of Hell what they want!” Vox answered with his most insincere businessman smile that Alastor had always found particularly obnoxious. “I won’t spoil anything, but we at VoxTek have some exciting things coming your way!”

Alastor rolled his eyes. Of course he was using this to promote his business. Vox had always been so depressingly single-minded. 

“What do you have in store for your enemies?”

“What about the Radio Demon?”

Alastor’s shoulders stiffened, and he was very aware of everyone in the room looking back at him; though he refused to tear his eyes away from the screen. 

Vox laughed, low and haughty. “Oh, please! Alastor is so far beneath me now, he’s not even worth my time! And he knows it, too. Take a look at yesterday’s footage, and you’ll see he was there, and was smart enough to run away as soon as I killed Mephisto! Alastor knows better than to pick a fight with me now. So, as long as he shows me the proper respect, I’ll let the smiling freak keep breathing!”

And so it began. Vox had just painted a fanciful picture for Hell that Alastor was afraid of him - so afraid of him that he wouldn’t dare to challenge him. That he would show him respect . And when Alastor didn’t come for him, didn’t so much as clap back, Hell would take that as a confirmation of the claim. Everyone would believe that he was afraid of Vox.  

Alastor must have looked particularly deranged because Charlie hastily leapt to her feet and scurried over to place what he was sure was meant to be a reassuring hand on his arm. “He’s just baiting you, Al,” she said gently, her eyes wide and anxious. “Don’t rise to it.” 

Alastor took a deep breath, reigning in the fury in his expression and forcing his tone to be bright and reassuring. “Not to worry, dear! I have no intention to respond to this drivel.” 

“Okay, good,” she sighed with relief, and Alastor patted her on the head before she returned to her seat on the couch. 

Everyone redirected their attention to the television. Well, almost everyone. Husk was still looking at Alastor, his usual frown taking on a thoughtful edge that Alastor did not like one bit. Husk was one of the extraordinarily few people who knew that Alastor was under contract. He’d never known who held that contract, but he was aware of its existence. And apart from Niffty, he had known Alastor longer than anyone else there. If anyone could piece together what wasn’t being said, it would be him.

Alastor forced his expression into one of casual nonchalance as he redirected his attention to the screen. 

“So, just how many souls did you acquire from Mephisto?” another reporter asked, and Vox’s smile spread even wider.

“Oh, I’m hardly going to be giving out that kind of information,” he laughed smugly. The way he twirled his hand in the air would be an innocuous gesture, if not for the fact that Alastor could feel his chain stirring in response. “Suffice to say, a lot. And some of… particular value.” He looked directly into the camera as he said it, and Alastor felt as though he were looking directly at him, certain that he would be watching.

Vox’s hand dropped back to his side, and Alastor nearly stumbled at the sudden jerk to his chain. He caught himself on the back of the couch and grit his teeth as he glanced around the lobby, hoping that no one had noticed. 

Alastor was met with Husk’s wide eyes, and his smile immediately became sharp and dangerous as he went on the defensive. Husk’s eyes narrowed in response and his lips compressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look away. He wasn’t going to back down. How stupid of him. Alastor knew he was in Hell, but the sudden escalation in his own, personal suffering was really quite distressing. 

Without a word, he turned and strode from the room. He had heard enough to confirm that Vox was holding to his word, after all, and he rather doubted that the television demon would have anything else of importance to say. 

After climbing the stairs and winding through a couple corridors, Alastor came to a stop, glaring straight ahead as he addressed the presence he had sensed following him. “Is there something you would like to say?” he demanded without turning around, his voice cold and clipped. 

He heard Husk’s steps slow and then stop behind him. There was silence for a couple seconds, and then, “Vox owns your soul.”

Alastor whirled around, posture and smile both absolutely rigid. “What an interesting theory!”

The cat demon’s eyes narrowed. “It ain’t a fucking theory. Mephisto held your contract. Now Vox does.”

He tilted his head to the side, neck cracking at a ninety degree angle. “Well now, you do sound quite certain of that. Interesting, considering how dangerously bold your claim is.”

He held out his hands, palms up. “Tell me I’m wrong.” 

“You’re wrong,” he lied easily, his eyes gleaming maliciously.

Husk snorted. “Right.” He shook his head as he dropped his hands back down to his sides. “And you’re just up in arms for no reason at all.”

Alastor threw back his head in a laugh. “My, Husker, I do believe you have an inflated sense of your own importance!” He quickly sobered, eyes narrowing as he stalked towards the other demon. “You are not entitled to any information about my being. And you’re certainly not in any position to talk to me the way that you are. So! Ǎ̴̺̼͠l̶̝͕̂l̶̼͛̽ͅo̷̻͋̎ẅ̵̭́͠ ̷̙̣͝m̵̝̄ë̶̱́ ̸̛͙̉t̶͎̗͛͗ỏ̵̲ ̶̛̳͆r̶̺̦̐͠e̴̘̿m̴̞̊̈i̸̢͈͠ň̷̞͐d̶͈̜̑ ̷͇́y̸̫͛͝ò̶͓̚ư̸̧̺͛ ̵̪͚̀ö̴̦́f̷̳̑̔ ̴̤̉y̸̭̌̕o̷͍͐̈́u̷͙͒r̸̡̥͠ ̷̥̑̓p̸̙̥̈ḻ̷̾â̴͕̒c̷̜͊e̷͚̤̎͒.̷͎̞̄”

Husk’s ears had flicked back, his hackles raised in well-placed fear. He made to back away from Alastor’s advance, but before he could make it more than a step, the glowing green chain manifested around his neck and he was yanked forward. He hissed as the collar constricted painfully. 

“I’m not your friend,” Alastor growled, his eyes flickering to radio dials as he glared down at him. “I’m not an equal. I do not need, nor want your opinions. And even if you were correct, you would do well to remember who caused certain events to transpire, in the first place! Who caused me to enter the fight, which resulted in Vox gaining the means to kill Mephisto.” 

Husk’s eyes flew wide with realization, but couldn’t speak through the pressure on his throat. Alastor let him suffer for a minute, before he dismissed the collar, smile widening as he watched Husk cough and splutter, struggling to catch his breath. 

“So, you were saying, Husker?” Alastor crooned, leaning down to get in his face. 

Husk’s eyes darted away from him. “Nothing,” he muttered. 

“Good boy.” He scratched his ear condescendingly, and then turned away. He took a few steps down the hall before he paused, glancing back over his shoulders with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “And if you ever ask me to save Angel again, I will do so only to kill him in front of you. Understood?”

Husk’s hands curled into fists at his sides, but he nodded sharply, even as hatred burned in his eyes. 

“Splendid.”

*

At ten o’clock sharp, Alastor manifested in the shadows of Vox’s room. The television demon was already present, sans jacket, bowtie, and vest, sleeves rolled up, and eyes fixed on the clock. He looked like a particularly pathetic child counting down to their birthday party. Alastor didn’t move from the shadows. He was present; that was fulfilling the order well enough, and he wouldn’t do any more until the choice was taken from him. 

When the digital clock changed to 10:01, Vox frowned. His brows furrowed, and then he cast his gaze around the room, eyeing the shadows suspiciously. It was times like these that Alastor remembered the picture box was smarter than he liked to give him credit for. 

Vox stopped, staring directly into the shadow that Alastor was hidden within. And then he smiled and fired off a bolt of electricity, lighting up the corner and causing Alastor to double over, grunting in pain as he materialized in the light. 

“Did you actually think that would work?” Vox demanded scathingly. 

“Not really,” Alastor admitted, adjusting his coat as he straightened. 

“Why don’t I take that from you?” He extended his hand, eyes darting down to where Alastor’s hands rested on his lapels, then back to his face with a smirk. 

Well, it hadn’t been an order, so… “I’d prefer to keep it on.” Much like his attempt to hide in the shadows, Alastor knew it wouldn’t work. It was inevitable that Vox would get what he wanted in the end. But that didn’t mean that Alastor had to make it easy for him.

“Hand it over,” Vox reiterated forcefully. “And shoes off, too.”

With a sigh, Alastor removed his coat and handed it off to Vox, who at least had the decency to hang it up this time. As he did, Alastor peeled off his boots and set them beside the couch. 

Just as he was about to turn back around, he felt arms encircle him from behind. One hand grabbed his waist while the other wrapped around his throat, the claws of both digging into his flesh. He struggled against Vox’s hold on him, but unable to actually fight back, there wasn’t much he could do. 

“You owe me an explanation for this morning,” Vox hissed into his ear. 

Alastor blinked, stilling in honest surprise. “This morning?”

“You were gone when I woke up.”

Alastor let out a pained gasp as a high voltage of electricity was pulsed through his body. He gripped Vox’s forearm uselessly, as his body bowed of its own accord. Finally, the charge relented, and Alastor sagged back into Vox, the television demon fully supporting his weight. 

Vox licked his lips as Alastor struggled to catch his breath. 

“You said…” Alastor panted through a strained smile. “I could return to the hotel… in the morning.”

“Correction.” He spun Alastor around to face him, holding him by the waist and shoulder. “You can return in the morning, after I dismiss you.” The hand on his shoulder lifted to grab him by the jaw. “I’m not just letting you leave on your own without so much as a ‘good morning,’” he laughed mockingly. “Got it, Bambi?” 

Alastor snarled and attempted to pull his head free of the hand that was gripping his jaw, but he was still too unsteady on his feet. “Yes,” he seethed. 

“Good.” Vox’s smile split his screen as he tightened his grip on Alastor’s jaw until it became painful, the tips of his claws pricking his skin. “And since you’re so eager to find exploits…” Another charge shot through Alastor’s body, and then he was being whirled around, claws tearing through his flesh as he was flung through the air. 

He landed with a grunt on the bed, but before he could do more than orient himself, Vox had teleported on top of him, straddling his waist. “What are you ack-” he started to growl, before a hand curling around his throat cut him off. 

“Oh, I’m just showing you the consequences of your actions, babydoll,” Vox declared gleefully as the claws of his free hand sliced through Alastor’s shirt and tie.

Alastor couldn’t disguise his sudden panic, his heels scrambling to find purchase on the bedding. Before Vox, he had never realized just how much solace he’d found in being hidden beneath his clothing, that it served as just as much of a shield for him as his smile. Maybe it was just because of the things he knew Vox wanted from him, things that he would be powerless to stop, but either way, the sudden air against his bare skin served as an immediate cause for alarm.

Vox’s claws proceeding to dig into his chest ironically helped to ground him, and then there was more electricity, since as always, Vox didn’t know how to let up once he found something that worked. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” Alastor ground out, once he’d regained the ability to breath at least somewhat normally. He was still panting, but his smile was sharp, and his eyes bright with adrenaline. 

Ah, and there was the reaction he’d always enjoyed provoking in Vox. An angry bolt of electricity darted between the television demon’s antennae, and his expression contorted with indignant rage. Much better. 

“Oh-ho, you asked for this!” Vox snarled, voice nearly completely corrupted with static, before plunging both hands into Alastor’s flesh, ripping and tearing, all while sending uneven bursts of electricity into him.

Alastor didn’t scream, but the screech of radio feedback echoed through the room, just as effectively broadcasting his pain. His teeth ground together and he squeezed his eyes shut because it wasn’t as though he could focus on anything he could see right now, anyway. He was vaguely aware of his own claws tearing into the sheets beneath him, of the way his body seized in agony, of the interesting sensation of being powerless to do anything but let Vox hurt him. 

Somehow, it felt different from being unable to fight back at the hands of Mephisto in a way that Alastor couldn’t quite quantify. Perhaps because he was used to being able to fight Vox back, and there was something almost novel about just letting him… or perhaps it was because Alastor knew that he had driven him to this, and he had always taken great pleasure in antagonizing Vox. Either way, Alastor’s mind was too muddled with pain to think clearly, so he stopped thinking, and allowed the sensations he’d scarcely experienced to carry him away.

He didn’t know how long he endured the agony before it subsided. And even then, he still felt foggy, his breathing labored. Once he was finally able to focus once again on reality, he lifted his head and found Vox leaned over him… licking his wounds. 

Hmm. That should probably bother Alastor more than it did. But given his own appetite, it was one of the more understandable things that Vox had done since inheriting his contract. Of course, the television demon was probably getting some other perverse pleasure out of this, but Alastor could ignore that for now. 

“And here I thought your palate wasn’t refined enough to enjoy such things,” Alastor hummed thoughtfully.

He felt Vox’s laugh against his skin before he glanced up at him. “You’re calling cannibalism fucking refined? Seriously?” He shook his head with a grin. “And my tastes haven’t changed. Just cause I’m willing to lick up your blood, doesn’t mean I’m about to chow down on some demon thigh, or whatever you freaks eat.”

“Hmm. And yet here you are, ingesting my blood!”

“Yeah, cause I fucking can . It’s hot, and it’s a power move. I guess the taste isn’t terrible, but it’s not what I’m here for.” He dipped his head back down to run his tongue along a slice he’d left on Alastor’s chest, the electric organ feeling quite interesting against the fresh cut, and causing Alastor to breathe in a sharp breath as his head rocked back against the bed. He couldn’t say the sensation was unpleasant, and he decided that he was perfectly willing to let Vox enjoy his little power move, so long as it kept him distracted from whatever else he might want to do with him. 

Vox continued licking along his torso, applying more pressure now, and allowing the electricity to dance more freely along his tongue. His hands gripped Alastor’s waist, the claws lightly pressing against his skin without digging in. Alastor almost wished that they would; it would be a nice distraction from how uncomfortably warm he was starting to feel beneath Vox’s weight. 

Instead, Vox let a claw trail over his skin to dip into one of his existing wounds, eliciting a sharp hiss from the Radio Demon. That worked, too.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” Vox asked curiously.

“Sure, whenever my mouth has bled, but I’ve never deliberately consumed my own flesh or blood before.” He rather doubted that he would get the same satisfaction that he did from consuming others.

He hummed thoughtfully, and then wiggled his blood-soaked claw in Alastor’s face. “Go on, then,” he encouraged with a smirk.

Well, why not? Alastor caught the offered finger in his mouth, encircling it with his tongue and prompting a soft gasp from Vox. He did a thorough job of cleaning his blood off the appendage, and then pulled off with a soft pop.  

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s the best I’ve had, but it’s certainly decent,” he mused aloud, looking up at Vox through hooded eyes. 

Vox seemed to have to take a moment to recover before he cleared his throat. “Who’s the best, then?” 

“Oh, I can hardly recall that,” he dismissed casually, not quite looking at the other demon.

Vox braced his hands on either side of Alastor’s head, leaning forward until his screen took up his entire vision, impossible to ignore. “Honestly?” he pressed. 

Alastor let out a sigh that sounded more akin to a growl as the answer was forced from him. “You.”

The light from Vox’s screen was suddenly almost blinding, his smile clipping off his screen. “Fuck, seriously?”

He rolled his eyes and said nothing. Of course this would go to his head. Vox had always been insufferable when receiving any kind of compliment from him.

Most demons at their first Overlord meeting sat still and attentive, taking it all in eagerly - certainly excited to be there, but very aware that they were still leagues beneath the other Overlords at the table. Not Vox, though. Of course, not Vox.

The newest Overlord had come ready with ideas and suggestions. It was almost admirable, or at least it would be, if it weren’t for one glaring fault of the television demon - he couldn’t handle criticism. He took everything personally, and heaven forbid someone dismiss him. Which, of course, was exactly what Carmilla did. Not ten minutes into the meeting, and Vox was already on his way to a full-blow mental breakdown. 

Alastor sighed. “Now, hold on, Carmilla. I find myself rather curious as to where Vox is going with this. I think we should hear him out!”

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Alastor almost never backed another Overlord in a meeting, with the exception of Rosie; though she rarely felt the need to get anyone else on board with her ideas. Of course she would think he had some kind of ulterior motive. Honestly, he just didn’t want Vox to embarrass himself. Sure, in other settings, he would find it amusing, but not at a table full of more powerful demons who would take advantage of every weakness he was foolish enough to show them. 

Alastor turned to the Overlord on his left for support, and Rosie immediately jumped in. “Oh, I concur! It never hurts to get some fresh ideas, after all!”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, and Carmilla gave a resigned sigh. “Very well. Continue, Vox.”

Alastor turned back to the demon on his right to find Vox looking at him with that familiar, borderline adoring expression that made him equal parts amused and uncomfortable. It was just a touch too genuine for his liking. He gave Vox a soft kick under the table, and he immediately shifted his attention to the rest of the table, launching back into his spiel. 

Vox’s ideas were still rejected, but at least they heard him out. It was enough to appease the television demon; though he was still pouting when the two of them went out for coffee after the meeting.

“Chin up, my dear!” Alastor encouraged, extending his staff to tap the side of the television that served as his head. “I think that all went rather well!”

“Easy for you to say,” Vox grumbled into his drink. “They actually take you seriously.”

“They didn’t always.” Quite the opposite, in fact. The Overlords had initially refused to acknowledge that such a young Sinner was gaining in power so swiftly - they were quite determined to ignore him altogether until he made them take him seriously. “Give it time. You’re smarter than most everyone else at that table, and can even be rather charming when you set your mind to it. You’ll have them eating out of your hand, eventually.”

Vox’s screen lit up. “You mean that?” he asked with an eager smile. 

Alastor rolled his eyes, already regretting his words. “Hm, I suppose so. And if only you knew how to use your wits and charm, you might actually be formidable!” 

His shoulders dropped at the dig, but there was still the hint of a smile beneath his glare. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Careful, bon ami,” he chuckled without any real threat behind the words. Vox was just about the only person who could get away with talking to Alastor like that. Honestly, he found the playful insults refreshing, if only because it was made abundantly clear that Vox worshiped the ground he walked on, making his rude remarks laughably at odds with his actions. And as much as Alastor enjoyed the fear he inspired in people, it was nice to have someone who didn’t walk on eggshells around him. Of course, Vox was also smart enough to be at least mostly respectful whenever they had eyes on them, which was another reason Alastor allowed him to get away with as much as he did. 

Vox gave him a playful grin, knowing full well that Alastor wasn’t going to do anything. “So, since I’m so smart and charming, you want to hear some of my other ideas?”

“Not particularly,” Alastor murmured, taking a long drink of his coffee to give himself energy to endure what he knew was coming. 

Naturally, Vox completely ignored him and plowed onward in painful detail about how he planned to build a technological empire in Hell. Alastor did his best not to laugh in his face.

“You want some?” Vox asked slyly, and Alastor’s attention immediately snapped back to him, his stomach clenching with sudden hunger. 

“If you’re offering,” Alastor purred, not wanting to show just how eager he was to get another taste of Vox’s blood. 

He chuckled and straightened up where he sat straddling Alastor’s waist, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt. “Oh, I didn’t say that. But ask nicely, and I just might give you a little treat.”

His eyes narrowed coolly. “Absolutely not.” He was not asking Vox for anything. He would not give him that satisfaction.

Vox seemed unperturbed by his response, shucking off his shirt somewhere behind him before bringing up a claw to trace along his carotid artery. “Oh, come on, baby. I won’t even make you beg for it.”

“Ha! As if you could.” Of course, Vox could make Alastor do whatever he wanted, but not willingly. He could force all the hollow words he wanted from him, but they would both know they were meaningless. And there was hardly any enjoyment to be derived from begging if it lacked sincerity. 

Vox just smirked, and then proceeded to tear his claws into his own flesh, quite literally opening a vein for him. That was almost sweet. And while Alastor still refused to ask, he had absolutely no qualms with taking what he wanted. 

He shot upright, grabbing Vox by the waist as the demon slid down onto his lap, and he lunged for the blood spilling onto the intersection of Vox’s neck and shoulder. His tongue barely flicked against it, getting the faintest taste, before Vox’s hand came around his neck, holding him just out of reach. The growl that spilled from Alastor’s throat sounded a bit too much like a whine for his liking. 

Vox’s eyes were wide and looked as hungry as Alastor felt. “All you have to do is ask,” he taunted, more blood leaking out of his mouth in his excitement.

Alastor’s lip curled. “I will never ask you for anything,” he snarled. 

“No? Well, new rule, then. You can only consume my blood with my permission. And yes, that includes when we’re making out.”

His eyes narrowed, but he kept his jaw clenched resolutely shut. Vox was severely overestimating how much Alastor wanted to taste him. There was only so far anyone would go for even their favorite delicacies when there were far more accessible options that were plenty tasty. 

Vox rolled his eyes and dipped his free hand into the blood at his neck before tracing a finger along Alastor’s lips. They parted automatically, and his hands tightened on Vox’s waist in frustration when the thrum of the collar around his neck reminded him that he couldn’t do anything more. “C’mon, Al, just-”

Vox choked off with a gasp as Alastor sucked his finger into his mouth, muffling his cry of pain caused by the blatant disobedience. The searing heat of his collar was significantly worse than whenever he merely dragged his feet to obey; he felt as though his entire body might burst into flames. He made to pull back almost immediately, but Vox’s hand moved from his throat to the back of his head, holding him in place as he slipped another finger into his mouth. 

Alastor wasn’t sure if his moan was in response to the taste or to the relief of his torture ending with the silent permission, replaced with a different kind of warmth as he swallowed down Vox’s blood. He smirked around his fingers, pleased that his gamble had paid off. Vox had always been just a bit too transparent when he wanted something, and his greed made him so easy to manipulate. Even now. 

Alastor licked his tongue between his fingers, and Vox groaned in response, rolling his hips against Alastor’s, and the other demon gasped at the unexpected sensation. That was far more intense than he would have expected. And there was an unfamiliar heat in his belly that demanded more.  

Oh. Fuck.  

*

Vox vaguely wondered if Alastor had any idea of what he was doing to him, but mostly he was just too damn turned on to think straight. Alastor’s mouth felt incredible, and Vox could all too easily imagine it somewhere else, that abnormally long tongue of his being put to good use. He rolled his hips with a groan, and Alastor let out a gasp before suddenly freezing beneath him. He even let Vox’s fingers fall from his mouth.

Confused and disappointed, he refocused on the other demon and had a second to register crimson eyes blown wide in something akin to panic before Alastor abruptly shoved him off his lap.

“Hey!” Vox snapped indignantly, catching himself before he could completely fall backwards onto the bed. “What the-?” He trailed off as he noticed Alastor pulling his knees up, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the telltale bulge in his pants. 

Oh, fuck. A smile split Vox’s screen. He hadn’t even been trying to get the Radio Demon all hot and bothered. This was the best day ever. Totally made up for waking up alone this morning. 

“Aw, did I get you worked up?” He was aiming for a sexy pur, but he was too obviously excited to really pull it off. “That’s precious.” He reached out for him, but Alastor flinched away.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled.

Vox briefly considered grabbing him and straddling him again just because he could, but he had promised to take things slow. So he’d play nice. For now.

He held up his hand placatingly. “Easy, sweetheart. I won’t lay a finger on you.” He reclined onto his side, resting his elbow on the pillow to prop his head up on his hand. His eye was pulsing excitedly, though with no hypnotic command behind it - after all, it wasn’t like it was necessary with Alastor. Commands through a contract were more effective, anyway. “Lay on your back. And stretch out your legs.”

Slowly and reluctantly, Alastor obeyed, his heavy breathing betraying his turbulent emotions. 

“There we go,” Vox encouraged, licking his lips. “Now, touch yourself.”

Radio feedback crackled through the air as Alastor’s head snapped to face him, his expression bordering on deranged. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he fought against the command. 

“Over your pants is fine,” he allowed impatiently.

Alastor resisted for a few more seconds before he finally lifted his hand to brush against his crotch. He let out a surprised hiss and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“A little firmer… that’s it,” Vox praised, watching hungrily as Alastor stroked his hand over his straining erection, drinking in the little grunts the sensation pulled out of him. “No- xc- w, give a little s-squeeze… xcs-yes.” He reached down to grasp at his own aching cock, mirroring Alastor’s movements. “You like that, baby?”

“No,” Alastor hissed through gritted teeth.

Vox blinked, stilling as a surprisingly unpleasant sensation twisted inside him. “Stop.” 

A relieved breath slipped through Alastor’s lips and his hand immediately fell away. Vox grimaced and pulled his own hand back up his thigh to pick uncomfortably at the fabric of his pants.

Several seconds of awkward silence ticked by as Alastor stared at the ceiling, and Vox didn’t quite look at him. Eventually, Vox cleared his throat. “Explain it to me. What didn’t you like?”

From Vox’s perspective, it just didn’t make sense. Alastor had clearly been enjoying things enough to get hard. And Vox couldn’t think of a time he’d gotten hard and hadn’t wanted to do something about it. He’d even done Alastor a favor by letting him be the one to touch himself! How could he have not wanted that?

“I… I’m not sure there’s an easy explanation,” Alastor began, the static going in and out of his voice as he struggled to gain control. “At least not one that you would understand. But if I must… this is a new sensation, and one that I did not invite. I don’t know how it happened. And touching myself simply feels… unnatural. Like picking at a scab. Even with the bodily reaction, I feel… disconnected from it, I suppose, as though the feelings are not my own. As though my body has betrayed me and I’m rewarding it for it. It feels empty and pointless and… sickening.” His lip curled in distaste. “Especially when coupled with the lack of autonomy.”

“Okay…” Vox nodded along before he sighed and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t understand.”

“What a surprise,” he remarked dryly. 

“Hey, I’m trying, okay?” he snapped. “It’s just… not like that for me. At all.”

For the first time since Vox had made him touch himself, Alastor turned to look at him with a peculiar expression. “Why?”

Vox raised an eyebrow. “Cause I like sex…”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Why are you trying to understand?” 

“Oh.” He preferred the other question. He fixed his fake, confident smile in place. “Just helps to know what I’m working with.”

“Hmm.” Alastor turned back to the ceiling. 

Vox just watched him for a little bit, waging an internal struggle with himself that he really didn’t understand. Why did he even fucking ask? It didn’t matter. He’d had a hate boner for Alastor for years, and now that he had him, he should just take what he wanted. But… fuuuck. How was it that Alastor was messing with his head, even now? He dragged his hands over his screen and just barely held back the urge to scream. 

“Are you honestly trying to make yourself out to be some sort of victim, here?” Alastor’s voice cut through his thoughts. 

“What?” Vox snapped, dropping his hands to fix him with a glare. 

“I’m not about to take pity on you, just because I didn’t enjoy your sick fantasy!”

“That’s not! I xcs-” He fought to control the static in his voice, his screen sparking angrily. “Fuck you.”  

“Try, and I will endure whatever pain I must to fight you every step of the way,” he promised in a low voice.

Vox scoffed, shaking his head. Hell, a fight didn’t sound half bad right now. Vox was fucking cock-blocking himself here, and he was sure that fighting Alastor would be a hell of a lot more satisfying than fighting himself. It would be familiar, too; something that they could both wrap their heads around. And right now, Vox welcomed the idea of pain. If he couldn’t take what he wanted, at least he could punish himself for being so pathetic. And better pain than this desperate want that was getting him nowhere. 

When it came to business decisions, Vox was thorough and calculated. But fuck, in his personal life, he was impulsive as hell. So, he grabbed Alastor’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes as he fixed him with a wide smile. “Now that’s a great idea! Hurting you is fun and all, but I do kind of miss our fights. So, for the next hour, you have free rein to hurt me as much as you want - just nothing that won’t heal within three or four hours.” And he could heal a lot in four hours.

Alastor’s eyes flew wide, excitement glimmering in their ruby depths as a tentacle curled experimentally around Vox’s neck. “And why would you let me do that?”

Cause I’m fucking pent up and need to do something. “I’m feeling generous.” He tightened his grip on Alastor’s face, blood blooming on his cheeks beautifully. “But if you don’t think you’re up for a fight…” He grinned wickedly, and immediately the tentacle tightened around his throat, cutting off his airflow.

They just stared at each other for a moment, fire in their eyes, Alastor licked his lips, and then there was a flurry of limbs and tentacles. Blue electricity sparked through the air, reflecting off of teeth and claws as they tore at each other, illuminating the blood as it sprayed forth. Vox was holding himself back - even without the handicap he’d imposed on Alastor, he was stronger than him now - but he wanted an even fight. So, he fought back just enough to stay one step ahead of the Radio Demon, and for a good half hour they took out their frustrations on each other, just as they had for years before Alastor’s seven-year absence.

Vox dodged Alastor’s next attack, but he’d lost track of where he’d been standing and ended up being brought up short as he ran into the bed. Alastor took advantage of the misstep to knock him back, pinning him down and climbing on top of him to bite shallowly at Vox’s shoulder, eliciting a shout from the television demon as he tore off a thin strip of flesh. Alastor swallowed it down with a vicious smile. “You’re holding back,” he accused, claws cutting into his arms as his hands tightened around them. 

“Wanna at least give you a shot,” Vox gasped out, still managing a cheeky smile and a wink. 

Alastor threw back his head in a laugh that was cut short when Vox managed to plunge a claw into his side and released a current of electricity. Alastor fell forward, catching himself on his elbows on either side of Vox’s head. He kept the current pulsing as he raised his other hand to claw into Alastor’s back, pulling him down so that he could bite into the deer demon’s shoulder. Alastor’s hands gripped at his screen, tearing into the casing, and his breath hitched as he buried his face in Vox’s neck to drag his teeth along the sensitive skin there.

The sensation immediately flipped a switch for Vox and he moaned into Alastor’s shoulder, letting up with the electricity to focus on pulling him closer, feeling the other demon shudder against him. Alastor nipped at Vox’s neck, the silent request quite apparent, even though he still refused to just fucking ask.  

“Fuck yes,” Vox gasped before lavishing his tongue over the bite mark he’d left on Alastor’s shoulder. 

And then Alastor’s teeth sank into him, his claws dragging down his sides until one hand could dig into his waist while the other gripped the shoulder that was serving as Alastor’s late-night snack. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fu-xc-ck,” Vox panted, his head falling to the side to give him more room, hands spasming against the deer demon before one moved up to twist in his hair, holding him close. 

Alastor’s tongue lapped at his skin, eagerly licking up the blood that had been spilled. Vox felt his breath tickle him as he chuckled. “Now you’re not even fighting at all.” 

“I’ll fight when you do something I don’t want- fuck!”  

Alastor hummed as he bit into him again, harder this time, and Vox’s hand tightened in his hair. His other fell down to his hip, gripping tightly. Alastor didn’t seem to mind that he was enjoying himself, so Vox didn’t see any point in pretending that all thoughts of fighting him hadn’t flown from his head the second Alastor had gotten his mouth on him. Somehow this was striking him as even more erotic than fucking Valentino over his desk earlier that day had been.

He squirmed beneath Alastor, very much wanting to get a leg free to wrap around him. But Alastor wasn’t having it and proceeded to tighten his legs around him, keeping him caged in. Though the movement came with the interesting revelation that Alastor was still hard - or perhaps hard again, Vox didn’t know and he didn’t care. He used his grip on the Radio Demon’s hip to pull him down, attempting to grind against him.

Alastor gave an exasperated sigh and suddenly tentacles were seizing Vox’s limbs, flipping him over as they simultaneously hauled him to the top of the bed. 

“Wha-?” he mumbled into a pillow, but then Alastor was straddling him again, his teeth tearing into his unmarred shoulder. Fuck, okay, he could work with this!

After a few seconds, Vox shocked the tentacles off of him, so that he could at least have some freedom of movement. He gripped the mattress with one hand, while his other curled around Alastor’s wrist, where he was bracing his hand beside Vox’s head. He let his claws dig into his skin, pumping a medium voltage current into him because he couldn’t let him have all the fun. 

Alastor’s jaw clamped down tighter around him, muffling a strangled sound, and his hips twitched against him. Vox was suddenly quite grateful that his screen was buried in the pillows so that Alastor couldn’t see how badly he was glitching out.

“Al-alxzcstor.” Not that that did much good when his voice was glitching out, too.

Alastor dragged his tongue over the bite marks he’d left, the pressure firm and insistent. Vox could hear his labored breathing, and he wished he could see the look on his face. “Hmmm?” 

“Pl- plea-xzc-se , don’t stop,” he whispered.

There was a moment’s pause, and then Alastor gave a low chuckle. “I still have twenty more minutes of being able to hurt you, my dear! Whyever would I stop now?”

Vox screamed as claws slashed at his back, but he was so fucking wound up that it didn’t put a damper on his arousal one bit - just the opposite. His hands fisted in the bedding as he rocked his hips against the mattress, fighting back officially the furthest thing from his mind. This was the best fucking decision he’d ever made. 

Alastor’s tongue followed, lapping up the fresh blood, even as his claws drew more from the way they dug into Vox’s waist to hold him still. Once Alastor reached his shoulders again, he raised a hand to curl around his neck, drawing another moan from Vox.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his other hand coming up to scrape roughly against the sensitive ports at the back of Vox’s head. The television demon whimpered. “All that power, and yet you surrender so easily.” The hand tightened around his neck, claws biting into his flesh. 

“F-zx-ck y-tz-ou,” he growled, but it came out more as garbled static than comprehensible words. He grabbed at the wrist connected to the hand around his throat, giving him another shock of electricity. It wasn’t enough to make him remove his hand - fuck, Vox did want him to remove it, and he held it close just to make that abundantly clear - just a little reminder of his power. 

Alastor groaned as he pressed his hips down against him, and fuck, Vox wished he was facing him right now. 

“Ala- xz -stor, fuck! Please let me turn around. Plea-xcz-se.”  

Vox held his breath as Alastor went still on top of him. A couple seconds passed, and Vox was starting to worry that he was about to stop altogether, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to roll over. 

The moment he was able, Vox traced his eyes hungrily over Alastor’s face. He looked frazzled - eyes wide and bordering on crazed, but also hungry, and his smile stretched too wide for his face. His chest was heaving, and as soon as Vox was on his back, he grabbed at the sides of said chest, pulling Alastor flush down on top of him and catching him in a kiss.

Kissing Alastor was like being devoured, and it had already become one of Vox’s favorite things. Just like last night, Alastor immediately went for his tongue, sucking it into his mouth like you would a fucking oyster. Their claws didn’t stop tearing at each other; though it was more about grabbing to pull each other closer now than it was just slashing each other to ribbons (at least for Vox, anyway). He was finally able to get a leg around Alastor, too, allowing him to grind up against him. Alastor growled into his mouth in response, but his hips snapped down, returning the pressure.

There was no fucking way Vox was going to be able to last through much more of this, and then Alastor grabbed him roughly by the antennae to yank his head to the side and sink his teeth into his shoulder. Vox came with a cry, grip tightening on Alastor, who was using Vox’s shoulder to muffle his moans.

Vox tugged at Alastor’s hair, urging him back into another kiss and rolling them both onto their sides to give himself better leverage as he rode out his orgasm. Eventually, both their hips slowed to a stop, and they parted from their kiss, both breathing heavily.

“Holy shit,” Vox breathed. “You just…” He pulled back to be able to properly look at Alastor with a radiant smile. “Please tell me you enjoyed that.”  

Alastor rolled his eyes as he extricated himself from the way that Vox was wrapped around him, and rolled onto his back. “It’s… possible I did,” he allowed, his expression guarded. “A touch.” 

Vox’s smile grew impossibly larger and he stretched along Alastor’s side, leaning in to press a light kiss to his shoulder. “Fucking knew there had to be something you’d like.”

He chuckled darkly. “Vox, what I liked was hurting you.”  

“Oh, please. You also liked being hurt!”

Alastor’s smile twitched. “Hmm. Not as much as you, I daresay.”

Vox let out a slightly sheepish laugh because there was definitely no point in denying it after that . “Touche.” 

He turned his head to the side, gaze seeming to search Vox’s projected face for a moment. “I would like an honest answer to something,” he said after a moment

“After that? Anything you want.” Vox was definitely going to be living on this high for a little while.

Alastor arched an eyebrow, but continued on with his question. “Throughout all of that, you never made me do anything.”

“Nope, that was all you!” he confirmed eagerly, his heartbeat picking up at the reminder. 

“Not what I was getting at. There were multiple instances where I was sure you were about to pull on my contract, and yet instead, you begged.” His eyes gleamed as he recounted that particular detail, but his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “Why?”

Oh. Right. Vox could feel his screen tinting pink and he pressed his face into Alastor’s chest to hide his blush. “I was kinda… caught up in the moment. Forgot I could do that.”

“I see…”

“And it’s not like I needed to, anyway,” he continued more confidently, shifting so that he was laying more comfortably on top of Alastor. “You did everything I asked.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s true,” Alastor murmured, brushing a hand over Vox’s casing. “But only because you begged so beautifully,” he added in a taunt.  

Vox gave a content sigh as he leaned into Alastor’s touch. “Keep doing that.”

Alastor’s hand twitched against his head, but he made no effort to resist the command, caressing the side of Vox’s screen almost tenderly. Except… it suddenly didn’t feel nearly as good as it had two seconds ago. When Alastor had been touching him voluntarily. Fuck.  

“Nevermind, stop,” he muttered a bit bitterly, swatting Alastor’s hand away as he pushed off of him and rolled over to face the opposite wall. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

He could feel Alastor’s surprise, even without looking back to see him. “Without even cleaning yourself up?”

“Don’t fucking judge me, asshole,” he growled, twisting his fists in the blankets as he crawled under the covers. “Just go to sleep.”

“As you wish,” Alastor hummed, and Vox could feel him shifting around behind him to get under the covers, as well. “Goodnight, Vox.”

“Yeah. G’night.”

Vox squeezed his eyes shut, forcing away thoughts of Alastor’s touch, of the taste of him, of the sounds he’d made. Reminded himself that he didn’t have to be wistful when he fucking owned him. He had everything he’d ever wanted. He was happy. And he would not let his long-buried feelings ruin that for him.

Chapter Text

Alastor was surprised to find himself alone in bed when he woke up. He had actually slept in Vox’s bed this time, in part because he didn’t think he actually had anything to worry about, but mostly because Vox had ordered him to. 

He pushed himself to sit up, the blue silk sheets falling away from his chest, and looked around the empty room. Where was Vox? As per last night’s instruction, Alastor couldn’t leave until he was dismissed, so if he had just left him there…  

The bathroom door opened and Vox entered the room, already fully dressed for the day. His eyes immediately landed on Alastor, drinking in his bare chest and tousled hair, and the deer demon could feel the heat of his gaze. The haziness of sleep still clung to him, and between that and his current state, he was quickly realizing just how vulnerable he must appear right now. How vulnerable he was.  

Vox licked his lips as he smiled. “Good. You’re awake.” He sauntered over to the bed, immediately reaching out to pull Alastor into a short kiss. “I have to be getting to work. You’re free to go.”

Alastor nodded mutely and swung his legs around to the side of the bed, preparing to stand, but he paused, grimacing at the tacky sensation in his pants. “I assume you won’t take issue with me using your shower before I leave?”

He smirked knowingly. “Make yourself at home, baby. Just no venturing into the rest of the tower without my say-so.” His hand dropped to his thigh, giving it a light squeeze as he leaned in for another chaste kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He watched him leave the room before he sighed and made his way to the bathroom. The first thing he did was send out a signal to fry any cameras in the room (there were two), and then he peeled off his clothes and got into the overly-technological shower. 

Last night had been… educational, in more ways than one. His own bodily reactions had certainly been unexpected. Of course, there were many factors in play with that; the body was simply wired to respond in certain ways when stimulated, and Alastor supposed he should have been under no illusions that his was the exception, just because he’d never had the opportunity to experience it. A little more disconcerting was what he had allowed to happen. The fact that he and Vox had chased their pleasure together, and the arousal that had initially felt foreign and unsettling to him had turned into something… exhilarating.  

But what was perhaps more interesting was Vox’s reactions throughout the ordeal. He’d ordered Alastor to touch himself - the memory itself almost enough to make Alastor recoil - but the moment he’d said that he didn’t like it, Vox had put a stop to it. And then when they’d fought… Please let me turn around. Plea-xcz-se. Vox had said he’d been caught up in the moment, that he’d forgotten that he could order Alastor to do whatever he pleased, but the look on the television demon’s face when he’d turned away from Alastor later that night told a different story. 

Alastor’s smile was wide as he stepped out of the shower. Vox may hold his leash, but Alastor was quickly realizing that he held more power than he’d initially realized. And he knew just what he was going to do with it. 

His shirt had been shredded, and he certainly wasn’t putting those pants and underwear back on, so he wrapped a plush, blue towel around his waist and ventured back into the bedroom. He made sure to fry all the cameras in that room too, before he started searching through Vox’s dresser for something to wear. The black pants and shirt he found were a tad big on him, but still wearable, and thankfully he still had his coat to put on over top of them. 

Satisfied, he traveled through the shadows back to his room at the hotel. Only to be immediately assaulted by the sound of someone banging on his bedroom door. 

“Alastor, come on!” Vaggie’s voice called from the other side. “We need you to do your job, here!”

Alastor sighed, running a hand over his face. This was going to be a problem, wasn’t it? He forced his smile to be cordial as he pulled open the door to face the former exorcist. “What is it?”

“Charlie needs to talk to you about some plans for the hotel,” Vaggie informed him with all her usual irritableness, arms crossed over her chest.

“Then why isn’t she the one at my door?”

“Cause she’s in the middle of brainstorming! You know how she gets.” Her eyes narrowed as they scanned over Alastor, clearly just noticing his attire. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” he remarked flatly, gesturing ahead of him. “Well, from the way you were pounding at my door, it seems this meeting is quite urgent! Do lead the way.”

“Right,” she muttered, shaking her head. 

Alastor followed Vaggie down to the lobby, where Charlie was bent over some papers. Husk was in his usual position behind the bar, and Angel Dust was sitting on one of the stools, leaned against the bartop. They both looked up as Alastor entered the room.

“Woah,” Angel whistled. “You actually switchin’ up your clothes, smiles?”

“It’s laundry day,” he lied dismissively, barely sparing the spider demon a glance as he walked over to Charlie’s side.

As Alastor could have predicted, the ensuing conversation was something that he hardly felt that he needed to be involved with. Don’t get him wrong, he took his duties to the hotel seriously - it would get rather dull, if he didn’t - but he really did not care about Charlie’s schedules and exercises. Still, he humored her for as long as he felt necessary, and then excused himself to take care of his own business.

He paused by the bar on his way out of the room. “Husker, if I could have a word! Privately.”

Husk looked at him with narrowed eyes, their exchange from the previous day clearly still fresh on his mind. “Sure.” He nodded a farewell to Angel, and then followed Alastor upstairs, to his quarters.

“You need something?” Husk asked after the door had shut behind them.

“Yes.” Alastor turned to face him, hands clasped behind his back. “I am going to be gone every night for the foreseeable future, and I will need you to cover for me.”

“Gone?” He blinked in surprise. “Where?”

“That you do not need to know! All that matters is that I will be leaving every night at ten, and will return sometime in the morning. And I don’t need anyone here concerned with my comings and goings.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. “Vox is really making you go to him every night?”

“Husker,” Alastor warned in a low voice.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed with a scowl. “I’m not prying. But… that’s fucked up. Not enough to make me feel bad for you, but still.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just cover for me,” he ordered flatly. 

Husk gave a curt nod, only gritting his teeth slightly against the command. “Sure.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands together. With that sorted, he could focus on solidifying his plan for that night. “That will be all.”

“Great,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned to leave, but he paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back over his shoulder. “You know, if you were decent to the people around you, you might have some people willing to bat for you. There’s some things that no one deserves, not even you.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, and a cold fury burned in his chest. “I don’t need your pity, Husker. I have the situation perfectly under control.” And after tonight, Vox would be completely wrapped around his finger.

*

It had been a long day. Vox had spent it sorting through the daunting pile of new contracts he had inherited, and now he had a headache and his back hurt from being hunched over his desk all day. Maybe Alastor could give him a massage.

It was after 10:30 by the time Vox was finally able to make it back to his room. He opened the door, hoping that Alastor wouldn’t be hiding in the shadows again - he really didn’t have the patience for games right now - but instead, he found the Radio Demon reclined on his bed with his shoes, coat, and tie already removed, and the top couple buttons of his usual red shirt undone, looking like a goddamn wet dream. Vox’s screen glitched in shock as he let the door fall shut behind him.

Alastor smirked as he straightened up. “There you are! Long day?”

“Uh, yeah… lots of contracts to sort through,” he muttered as he slipped off his jacket and turned to hang it on the coat rack, his mind reeling. What was going on, here?

Vox nearly startled as he turned back around to find Alastor now standing directly in front of him, and he sternly reminded himself that he was the one in charge here. His eyes narrowed to slivers. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Alastor asked innocently as he crowded closer to him. His eyelids drooped low as he reached out to start unclasping the buttons of Vox’s vest. “Isn’t this what you want, Vox? Me? Dotingly at your service?”

He licked his lips. “Yes,” he hissed, automatically leaning closer, despite his suspicion skyrocketing.  

A knowing hum slipped past Alastor’s lips as he pushed off Vox’s vest, reaching past him to hang it up before slipping a claw into the knot of his tie to pull it off, as well. He pulled the strip of fabric from his collar, and draped it over the hook with his vest. As Alastor’s hand moved back towards him though, Vox caught it, his own hand wrapping around his wrist. 

“You’re up to something,” he accused, albeit a little breathlessly. 

“Am I?” His smile was absolutely wicked as he stepped back, pulling Vox with him. And even though he was still suspicious as hell, Vox let him. Because whatever Alastor was up to, he was certain that he would at least enjoy the ride. 

Alastor placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back to sit down on the edge of the bed, proceeding to step forward to stand between his legs. And then he kissed him. Alastor kissed him, with no prompting whatsoever. It wasn’t as long of a kiss as Vox would have liked, but the way Alastor’s tongue plundered his mouth was plenty dirty. He pulled away the second Vox groaned into the kiss, reaching out his hands in a failed attempt to pull him closer.

“What do you want, Al?” Vox sighed resignedly, his hands landing on the Radio Demon’s waist as he looked up at him with a mixture of desperation and distrust in his gaze. 

Alastor’s smile grew wider. “I have a proposition I would like to discuss with you.”

Yeah, he’d figured as much. Still, his eyes narrowed once again. “You’re not getting out of this contract,” he growled firmly. 

“Oh, I’m well aware. You’ve gotten something that you’ve wanted for quite some time, haven’t you? Of course you won’t give it up! Although… it still isn’t quite what you want, is it?” His hand came up to caress the side of Vox’s screen as he spoke, soft and tantalizing. 

Vox frowned. “Excuse you, this is exactly what I want.” He tightened his grip on Alastor’s waist, pulling him a touch closer to reinforce the statement.

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow skeptically as his hands ran down to Vox’s chest, fingers spread wide, the touch almost possessive, and it made the television demon’s heart skip in his chest. “Are you saying you wouldn’t prefer me a bit more willing? You wouldn’t rather I play along with this deluded little fantasy of yours?”

His screen flickered and he blinked, slowly processing what Alastor was implying. And as much as he loved fighting with his rival, to have him willing…. The pure want he felt at that idea was almost palpable. “What are you proposing?” he demanded, trying to stamp down on his eagerness. 

Alastor’s smile was that of a man who had already won. “I will play along - play the part of the devoted partner you want so much - but in return, I get full freedom to decide what I will and won’t do.”

Vox scoffed. “You’re joking,” he accused, leaning back with his hands braced on the bed behind him. “No fucking way am I giving you that much freedom. You’ll do the bare minimum, and I won’t get anything I actually want from you.”

Even with all the conviction in Vox’s voice, Alastor’s confidence didn’t waver. The Radio Demon was an expert in making deals, after all, and it was almost always of benefit to lead with a request just a touch too unreasonable to make your actual offer seem even better by comparison. Vox had learned almost everything he knew about deal-making from him, and he knew exactly what he was doing, but he was still curious to see where it would go.

Alastor leaned in close again, and his hands began working on the buttons of Vox’s shirt, claws trailing lightly against the dark blue skin as it was revealed. “Hmm,” he hummed, voice pitched low and full of promises. “A compromise, then. I’ll humor you. I’ll touch you, more or less willingly, and so long as your requests aren’t too disagreeable, I won’t fight them. I’ll cooperate. And in return, I want you to listen when I say that something is too disagreeable. To allow me to refuse, or at least to compromise.” His hands slid down Vox’s bared chest, and ducked down to press his lips to his neck. “Is that more agreeable, cher?” he whispered against him.

Vox thought about it. Or at least, he tried to. Alastor’s hands and lips were a bit distracting, which he was certain was intentional. He should probably stop him, but fuck, he really didn’t want to. So, he instead reclined all the way back onto the bed, pulling Alastor on top of him. 

The Radio Demon’s resulting laughter was low, and Vox could feel it more than he heard it. “If you want this to continue, you should make your decision,” he purred. 

“Fuck you,” he groaned, carding a hand through Alastor’s hair, where his head now rested on his chest. “Fine, I’ll agree. But you’ll have to just take my word on it, cause I’m not putting it in your contract.”

Alastor lifted his head, his gaze slightly narrowed. “And why is that?”

“Because. This way you know I can choose to stop playing nice at any time, so it gives you some incentive to be discriminating about what you refuse.” He smirked, moving his hand to pet his ear and giving it a light tug. “If I feel you’re taking advantage of this little agreement, I won’t hesitate to throw it out.”

He bared his teeth, but sighed. “I suppose that’s… reasonable. But I want access to your flesh and blood.”

Vox huffed a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s… kind of asking. The way an entitled brat does, but still.” He dropped his free hand to Alastor’s side and gave it a squeeze. “Fine. You can have a piece of me whenever you want, honey, so long as we’re alone. Just don’t do any damage that won’t mostly heal in a couple hours. You can also get a little violent during sexy times, cause I know you like that,” he added with a wink. “But same rules apply.” 

Alastor’s smile split his face. “Lovely.”

“We do also need to establish how you’ll let me know if something’s ‘too disagreeable’,” he mused. “Cause I’m not pulling back every time you so much as dig your heels in a little. You’re too fucking stubborn for that.”

“Of course,” he agreed, rolling to the side to sit on the bed beside him. “I believe that safe words are a thing that might be appropriate?” 

Vox didn’t bother lifting his head - he was too tired. He just arched an eyebrow at him from where he laid on the bed. “I’m surprised you know what safe words are.”  

“I’m going on almost a century in Hell, Vox. Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of safe words.” He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Do you think they would be fitting?”

“Yeah, they would be. The stoplight system work for you?” He grinned at Alastor’s blank look, and elaborated. “Green is good, yellow is let’s slow down and talk about this, red is stop.”

Alastor nodded. “That’s easy enough to remember.”

“That’s the idea, babe. So, we’re in agreement as to how this is going to work?” He reached over, letting his hand dance along Alastor’s thigh.

“I believe so,” he murmured, eyes locked on Vox’s hand. Experimentally, Vox trailed it higher, climbing Alastor’s thigh until he was barely brushing against his crotch. “Yellow.” 

Vox smirked and his hand slid back down his thigh, giving a light squeeze before pulling away entirely. “See? Works like a charm.” 

Alastor sighed and scooted away from him, turning to lean back against the pillows. A hoof prodded Vox’s arm, and the television demon groaned as he rolled over and crawled away to give Alastor room to stretch out. He collapsed face-first into the pillows beside him, before peeking up at him thoughtfully. “Hey, how are you with massages?”

“I think I’m more suited for acupuncture, honestly.” He grinned as he held up his claws, pulling a laugh out of Vox. “But I could give it a try,” he continued with a shrug.

“Great. I’ll take a back massage, then.” He didn’t bother to wait for an agreement before he slipped fully out of his shirt and then made himself comfortable against the pillows. A moment later, he felt Alastor straddle his waist, and his hands began applying firm pressure to his back. Vox sighed and melted into the touch.

“How’s this?” Alastor asked as he pressed down with the heel of his hand, sliding it up the length of Vox’s back.

He groaned in response. “Great. Fuck, bending over paperwork all day did a number on me.”

“Oh good, so this isn’t a sexual thing, for once,” he muttered, probably more to himself.

Vox chuckled. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said your hands don’t feel amazing on me, Bambi…”

Alastor dug into a knot on his shoulder with a bit more ferocity than was called for in a deep-tissue massage, and Vox grunted in a combination of pain and pleasure. “What was that, dear?” he hummed casually.

Vox grinned, his amusement hidden by the pillows. “I said you’re good with your hands.”

“Hmm. I’m even better with them when the idea is to elicit pain.”  

“You know, causing pain and pleasure really isn’t that much different, sweetheart,” he pointed out teasingly as he enjoyed Alastor’s ministrations. “You have to know how to exploit all the right pressure points, how to draw it out just the right amount. And if you do it properly, you can reduce someone to a writhing, begging mess.”

Alastor’s genuine laugh reminded Vox of days long past. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the sound. “Yes, I did start to get that impression last night,” he agreed, his tone becoming something almost thoughtful.

“Makes you like the idea a little more, doesn’t it?” Vox pressed knowingly. Sex and torture were two sides of the same coin, and given Alastor’s love of the latter, it stood to reason that he could learn to appreciate the former, as well. At least, that was what Vox was counting on.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alastor argued. “Torture is far more appealing.”

“Right…. That’s why you stopped torturing me to get off last night.”

Hands stilled on his back. “That is not what happened,” he immediately refuted, a note of distress in his voice. 

Oh, he hadn’t realized, had he? No, of course Alastor would have avoided thinking about what had happened last night. Meanwhile, Vox… all day his mind had kept drifting back to the previous night, making focusing on contracts even more arduous. It was a relief to finally be able to talk about it, especially considering that his less than ideal headspace had prevented him from really enjoying the afterglow. But if Alastor’s proposition worked out, that should solve that little issue, too. So, perhaps he should return the favor with a little wake-up call.

“No? Cause you still had time on the clock to hurt me, but you seemed to get a little… distracted.” Vox’s smirk was audible in his voice. 

“It was from hurting you,” Alastor insisted, almost desperately. Vox didn’t try to twist around to see him, but he could clearly imagine his strained smile and pinned ears, and he was glad the pillows hid his own gleeful smile.

“Yeah, it’s called a kink, babe. I find hurting you hot as fuck, too. And you hurting me, so that’s lucky.” And Vox had definitely considered the fact that Alstor had tortured countless demons, but had apparently only become aroused by hurting him. But the deer demon was clearly already on the verge of some kind of breakdown, so he figured he’d let that revelation slide for now. 

Alastor said nothing in response. Oh, fuck. It wasn’t often that the Radio Demon was speechless.  

Vox licked his lips, both enjoying the effect this conversation was having on him, but also not wanting to ruin the amiability they’d just established. “How about we drop this and get back to the massage, hm?” 

*

Alastor remained silent as he slowly resumed kneading Vox’s back. He didn’t want to acknowledge the truth of Vox’s words, but it was hard not to. He had certainly surprised himself by allowing things to progress the way that they had last night, and by his enjoyment of the experience, but he had opted to not dwell on it. It had made more sense to focus on how he could use what he’d learned to manipulate Vox, anyway.

But nothing Vox had just said had been a lie. Hurting the television demon had become second to his own pleasure. Sure, he had still clawed at him, and had enjoyed the sensation of tearing into his flesh, but he’d also been fully aware that Vox had enjoyed it, too. That it was more pleasure than pain, at that point. And Alastor had reveled in the way that Vox had surrendered to him. The way he had come apart beneath him in a way that was so similar, and yet so different to what he was used to. 

Makes you like the idea a little more, doesn’t it? Alastor hadn’t been completely honest in his answer to that question. Because after last night, there was a part of him that was intrigued. That wanted to explore that line between pleasure and pain, and find out just how much Vox would take. It was a small part, but it was there. He just hadn’t considered how he had already partially caved to that curiosity.

“You okay up there?” Vox asked after several minutes of Alastor silently massaging him.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, shoving the potential existential crisis roughly aside. “How much more of this do you need?”

“Give my neck and shoulders some love for a few minutes, then you can stop.”

Alastor hummed in agreement as his hands moved up to apply pressure to the requested areas, drawing another moan out of Vox. He definitely understood what Vox had been saying about how invoking pleasure and pain were in many ways the same thing. And while Alastor certainly didn’t find invoking pleasure nearly as rewarding, it still meant that he had power over Vox. That he was in control of what he felt. And that he did appreciate.

He leaned down, lips hovering near Vox’s audio input. “How was that?” he purred in a low voice, and was rewarded with a shudder from Vox. 

“Amazing,” he breathed. “You-” Vox broke off with a pained shout, entire body tensing as Alastor sank his teeth into his shoulder without warning. Mm, yes, pain was definitely more gratifying.

“Fuck,” Vox swore. “Fucking bastard.” But Alastor could feel him forcing himself to relax beneath him, even as he sank his teeth deeper into his flesh. Despite his protests, despite the fact that he had previously asked Alastor to relieve his pain, he was still letting him hurt him. How delightfully thrilling. Though, perhaps Vox was simply under the impression that he’d be getting something out of this… in which case, he should really correct him.

Alastor pulled back, flicking his tongue along the wound as he went. “To be perfectly clear, I have no desire for a repeat of last night. I just wanted a snack.” Actually, he’d wanted to pull the rug out from under Vox by morphing his pleasure into pain, but the snack was nice, too.

The sigh Vox huffed into his pillow was a strange mix of amusement, disappointment, and exasperation. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered. “I’m too tired to do anything, anyway.”

Alastor’s smile stretched over his face, his eyes alighting with glee, and he went back in, lapping up some of the blood that had been spilled before tearing off a small chunk of flesh. And Vox’s cries were almost as delicious as himself, as the electricity that sparked on Alastor’s tongue. He was able to recognize the faint stirrings of arousal in him this time, but he ignored it, focusing more on the taste than the way that Vox was surrendering to him so completely.

Unfortunately, Alastor couldn’t take as much as he’d like, but he savored every drop of blood, every ounce of flesh. “Mmm,” he hummed, licking his lips as he rolled off of him. “Thank you for that.”

Vox huffed a dry laugh as he rolled onto his uninjured side to look at him. “You’re just lucky I find that kind of hot.”

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully as he regarded him. “Well, whatever the reason, I… enjoy that you let me. I admit that your total surrender is almost intoxicating.” It was easy to feign reluctance at the admission, as it did reveal a fact about himself that he was far from comfortable with. But he also knew that if Vox was aware that he derived enjoyment from his surrender, the television demon would be all too willing to submit to him more often, to let him hurt him, and wouldn’t that just be lovely.  

Vox’s eyes lit up as though he had just won some great victory over Alastor, and he leaned in eagerly. “Good to know, baby,” he purred, and then he captured his lips in a kiss. Honestly, Vox almost made this too easy. 

Alastor humored him by returning the kiss for a few seconds before he pulled away. “I believe you said you were tired?” he prompted.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Let’s go to bed.” He reached down to peel off his pants, tossing them carelessly over the side of the bed, before he moved to get under the covers.

Alastor shook his head, averting his gaze until he realized that Vox had paused in the process of getting under the covers and was looking at him as though deep in thought. “What?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“I at least want you to take your shirt off,” Vox decided. “It’s not like that would be comfortable to sleep in, anyway. Of course, you’re more than welcome to remove your pants, too, but I think I know your answer to that,” he added with a leer.

“You do,” Alastor agreed as he sat up to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t ideal, but it was tolerable. And he had at least become accustomed to the feel of Vox’s sheets over the past couple of nights.

“Though, if you want to change into something more comfortable, I have lounge pants in the second drawer on the right,” he added, waving a hand towards his dresser. 

He considered that as he removed his shirt. He supposed it would be nice to sleep in something more comfortable. And besides, it would be good to show just how cooperative he could be.

Alastor rose to his feet as he folded his shirt, setting it down on the couch before opening the indicated drawer and grabbing a pair of dark blue lounge pants from the top. A glance in the mirror confirmed that Vox was watching him hungrily, and Alastor stomached his pride and removed his pants.

Vox’s entire screen glitched. “What the fu-xc-ck?!”  

He allowed himself a faint smirk, and he glanced down as though just remembering that he was still wearing the boxers he had stolen from Vox’s room this morning. The same boxers that he had picked out for Alastor to wear the other day, with ‘RADIO IS DEAD’ printed across his rear. “Oh, I borrowed these when I got dressed this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

Vox was still noticeably glitching, colored bars flashing over his screen, as Alastor pulled on the borrowed pants, and he just had to laugh at the sight. He had only selected these particular boxers because he hadn’t been certain just how much ammunition he would need in order to get Vox to agree to his terms, but his reaction alone made it worth it. 

“Keep them,” Vox finally managed to pull himself together enough to speak by the time Alastor got back into bed. “Just wear them for me sometimes, okay?” His eyes were wide and almost pleading as he looked up at him, licking his lips.

Alastor smirked at his blatant desperation and ran a talon along the bottom edge of his screen. “So long as you’re good to me, Vox,” he promised in a low voice.

“Oh, I will be so good to you, baby.” He crowded in close to his side, placing a hand on his chest as his eyes roamed over him to rest on the waistband of his pants, poking out from beneath the covers he hadn’t had a chance to pull up yet. “Fuck, I love you wearing my things.”

“Good to know,” he purred, leaning in in an imitation of Vox’s earlier behavior. He allowed the television demon to steal a faint kiss before he laid down on his back and pulled the covers up over himself. 

Vox immediately pressed close, snuggling into his side. “I think I could get used to this,” he murmured. 

Alastor glanced down at him with a raised eyebrow. “Somehow, I think you already are.”

Chapter Text

Vox couldn’t fucking focus. Fuck, he had so many contracts still to get through, and all he could think about was Alastor. Alastor kissing him, Alastor purring sultry promises, Alastor just holding him. And fuck, was that last one embarrassing. He was real glad that no one could see into his mind, cause he would never be able to live that down.

He shook his head as he stood up from his desk. He wasn’t making any progress, and he had an errand he wanted to run, anyway. He made his way out of his office, and almost ran smack into Velvette as he turned the corner.

“Oh, hey, Vel.” He fixed a smile on his screen as he took a step back from his shorter business partner. “You need something?”

“I was comin’ to talk to ya’ ‘bout the Overlord meeting.” She swiped her hair out of her face with one hand, while the other came to rest on her hip. 

Vox raised an eyebrow. “Overlord meeting?”

Velvette huffed an exasperated sigh. “Yeah. That bitch, Carmilla, sent out the email yesterday. Where’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered, which was true. He normally checked his email in his downtime, or when Valentino was talking his non-existent ears off about something stupid, but all his free moments lately had been filled with daydreaming about what he would next do with Alastor. And he’d certainly spent more time with the Radio Demon the past couple days than with his lover. “When is it?” he asked, internally pulling up his calendar. 

“In two days. I can go again, if ya’ want. I know you and Val hate them.”

It was true. Vox did hate Overlord meetings. They pulled him away from his work and they were always so boring. Couldn’t they just do these things virtually? At least that way he’d be able to get some work down while Carmilla droned on about whatever bullshit she thought was important.

But he’d be in a room with Alastor, surrounded by all the other Overlords who didn’t know that he was on a leash, and that would for sure make his Radio Demon squirm. And oh, that would be a fun dance, and would certainly make the meeting more entertaining.

“No, I’ll go.” Vox’s smile grew wide at Velvette’s surprised expression. “Velvette, dear, I will be one of the most powerful demons in that room. I’m going to enjoy those assholes sucking up to me for a change.”

Velvette’s confusion shifted into an amused smirk. “You have fun with that, Vee. Want me to come along?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ll handle it.” Velvette would surely be able to read his excitement all too well at the situation, and he still wasn’t quite ready to share Alastor with the rest of the Vees. Fuck, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready. Velvette and Valentino would both have their own ideas on how Vox should handle his ownership over his rival, but Alastor was his. He didn’t want or need their ideas. 

“Sweet, I’ll gladly take that afternoon free.” She pulled out her phone, tapping at the screen as she spoke “Where’re you off to, then? Val’s been complainin’ ‘bout you workin’ nonstop. Figured you’d still be goin’ through contracts.”

“I’m stretching my legs,” he gave an easy excuse. “Decided to check in with production in person. My vision was starting to blur.”

“I get that,” she snorted without looking up from her phone. “We still hostin’ that product launch or whateva’ next weekend?”

Vox groaned. In all the excitement, he had completely forgotten about that. “Shit, I’m so fucking behind on promoting that.”

“Try to get some RSVPs at the meeting,” Velvette suggested offhandedly. “You know people go apeshit over the chance to see multiple Overlords in one place.” She glanced up from her phone with a smirk. “‘Sides, from the sound of things, fuckin’ Zestial is the only one who could beat you one-on-one, and we all know his decrepit ass isn’t liftin’ a finger! Even Carmine will have ta’ listen to you now.”

“So true.” His smile took on a sharp edge as he huffed a staticky laugh. “Is that all? I really do need to check in with production now to make sure I have a proof of concept in time for the meeting.”

“Yeah, have fun bitchin’ at the worker ants. And for the love of god, go see Valentino.”

“Right…” he sighed.

*

Vox didn’t have time to go see Valentino. He’d had to light a fire under production’s ass to get them to work double-time, and there was what he’d originally been going down there to have them make - a far more personal project that he felt the need to oversee every step of. He at least made it back to his room before ten. Though it immediately became apparent that he really should have made time to see his boyfriend, considering that he found the moth demon waiting for him in his bed.

“Finally,” Valentino sighed, sitting up with a smirk as the bedroom door closed. “I was starting to think I was going to have to take care of myself, here.”

Vox frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He had cameras in his room for a reason. They were supposed to notify him if anyone entered. And Valentino sure as hell wasn’t smart enough to avoid tripping their sensors. He quickly extended his awareness to the familiar technology, only to find that it was all completely fried. That asshole.  

Vox sighed, scrubbing a hand over his screen. “I’m not in the mood, Val.” At least not for you.

“What the fuck, Vox?” Valentino whined, throwing his hands up in irritation. “The only thing I’ve been able to get since your little power grab is a fucking quickie in your office! Need I remind you that I saved your ass in that fight?! What, do you think you’re too good for me now?” he demanded, crossing his arms with a pout.

Dammit. He needed to get Val out of there before Alastor showed up. He fixed a tender, reassuring smile on his screen as he walked over to the bed, reaching out to pull Valentino into a long, sensual kiss. “Never, lovebug,” he murmured against his lips as he trailed his hand through the fluff at his neck.

Valentino melted into his touch, reaching out to pull Vox onto the bed with him, but the television demon feigned reluctance as he pulled back. He gave him a soft smile. “I still have a lot of work to catch up on, Val. Trust me, there are many other things I’d rather be doing, and you are at the top of that list. But the sooner I get everything squared away, the sooner I can give you all the attention you deserve…” He allowed his expression to shift into a lewd smirk as his hand moved from Valentino’s fluff, sliding around to run down his chest. He caught the other demon’s eyes, his left eye swirling hypnotically. “But until then, I’m going to need you to give me some space. That way I can focus and get done sooner. Alright?”

Valentino huffed a reluctant sigh as he shifted to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine. But you’d better make it up to me later, papi.”

“I will. I promise.” He gave him another kiss before Valentino skulked from his room, dropping his smile the second he was gone. Now to deal with those cameras…

*

Alastor arrived in Vox’s room promptly at ten o’clock to find the television demon sitting at the desk to the side of his bedroom, attention fixed on the monitors as he appeared to be intently working on something. Alastor’s smile spread over his face as he materialized directly behind him and bent over to peer over his shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“Fuck!” Vox jumped in his seat, and Alastor stepped back, laughing, to lean against the wall beside the desk. 

“You always did get so caught up in your projects,” he mused, examining his claws casually. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings!”

“I have cameras for that,” he muttered, shooting him a surprisingly half-hearted glare. “Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to the cameras in here, would you?”

“You have cameras in here?” he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. He really didn’t care that Vox knew it was him, but it was always so fun to toy with him. And it was certainly refreshing in light of their new dynamic.

“Fuck you,” Vox sighed exasperatedly. “I know you killed them.”

“I just wanted a bit of privacy to get dressed the other morning.” Alastor waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, the ones in the bathroom are dead, too. Why do you even have those?”

“Cause sometimes Val and I get freaky in the bathroom and I want to watch it back,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Next time, just turn them off. I know you’re perfectly capable of hacking the signal and doing so. And jesus fucking christ, it’s not like I would’ve been able to get a clear picture of you, anyway! Would’ve looked like it was fucking censored, only worse. You’re paying to replace it all.” He pointed a stern finger at him, and Alastor rolled his eyes. 

“Very well,” he acquiesced. “Send me the invoice.”

“Good.” Vox’s expression immediately cleared and he got to his feet, grabbing a small, red gift box off his desk, which he held out to Alastor. “This is for you.”

“For me?” He raised an eyebrow as he accepted the box. “And I didn’t get you anything,” he murmured teasingly to cover for the fact that he was actually moderately nervous about Vox giving him a gift. What would he be giving him? Something to label Alastor as his? Or would it be something sexual in nature? Regardless, it was sure to be something he wouldn’t want.   

Vox scoffed. “Just open it.”

Alastor’s stomach twisted in discomfort as he removed the lid to reveal… oh, of course. It was one of those annoying, cellular telephones that everyone in Hell was so fond of. His expression twisted in distaste as he picked it up, setting the box aside. “And if I don’t want it?” he questioned, already anticipating the answer. 

“Too bad.” Vox rolled his eyes as he stepped closer, reaching out to turn the device on. The screen lit up, displaying a background of a red-tinted bayou that looked straight out of Alastor’s life on earth. “Think of it like this, this way I can get ahold of you without pulling on your chain, which could be complicated for you if you’re not alone.”

That was a fair point, but he certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge it. Instead, he gave a noncommittal hum as he turned the phone over in his hands. The case was clearly custom - a depiction of his own radio, framed by black antlers, on a red background. If he was inclined to give compliments, he might even admit that it was a nice design. 

“You’re to have that on you at all times,” Vox continued, the command thrumming through the chain in a way that was now quite familiar to him. “If I reach out, you answer immediately. Understand?”

Alastor carefully schooled his features into a neutral mask, not letting his irritation show. “And if I’m not alone? People will ask questions, and I was under the impression that you still wish to keep me as your little secret.” 

He seemed to consider that for a second. “If that’s the case, you can have half an hour to get somewhere alone so you can call or text me back. I think that should be reasonable.”

“I suppose so,” he conceded, slipping the offensive device into his pocket. As though he weren’t already tied to Vox enough, this would just be another thing connecting them. And certainly a way for the television demon to keep close tabs on him - allowing him to track him, maybe even listen in on his conversations - and there was absolutely nothing that Alastor could do about it.

“You don’t want me to… show you some of the features?” Vox asked, a trace of disappointment showing on his screen. 

He arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s not as though I’ll be using the thing for anything but keeping in contact with you,” he pointed out coolly. 

“Well… you could, you know. I made sure it’s compatible not just with my cell towers, but with your radio towers, as well.” He glanced away from him as he spoke, as though just now realizing that the way he had gone above and beyond was really quite telling. 

Alastor held back his smirk, delighted to find an open wound to sink his claws into. “A capability I won’t be using, I assure you!”

“Whatever,” Vox muttered, fully turning away from him in a painfully transparent attempt to hide his chagrin. “I need your help with something,” he quickly changed the subject, and his expression was all business by the time he turned back around to face him, handing him a stack of papers. “This is a script for a commercial I don’t have time to proof and that I needed done yesterday. I expect you to be as thorough as you would be for your own shit. And I’m also going to need you to modify it for radio, for you to air, as well,” he added with a smirk.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, and he felt the sting of his collar as he resisted the command. “You want me to advertise your tacky products on my radio show?”

“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly, holding his gaze unwaveringly. “I intend to make full use of the resources at my disposal, and you can get me further reach. Not much more than I could get on my own, of course, but every bit helps!”

He grit his teeth. “I want to be able to add in sponsorship language,” he demanded. “Make it appear as though you’re paying me to advertise for you.” It still wouldn’t be a good look for him, accepting adverts from his rival, but it was certainly better than publicly allowing said rival to walk all over him.

“Fine,” he agreed. “But like I said - I want the same quality you’d put out for yourself, as though it were your reputation on the line.”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” he sighed, waving his hand. What a pity. “Am I to assume you want me to start now?”

“Yeah. I need to finish getting these new cameras set up.”

Alastor nodded, grabbed a pen from Vox’s desk, and then walked over to the couch to settle in and get to work. At least this was more agreeable than the way Vox generally wanted to spend their evenings. 

*

Alastor had been working on the revision for about twenty minutes, give or take, by the time Vox finished up what he was doing and joined him on the couch. He didn’t bother acknowledging his presence, but when the television demon twisted around, stretching his legs out, Alastor dutifully lifted up the papers he was reading through to allow Vox to drape his legs across his lap. At least this way he now had a surface to write on. Vox leaned back against the armrest and focused his attention on his phone, tapping away at the screen. 

It was a comfortable silence that existed between them, one that was only broken by the scratching of a pen on paper, the tapping of claws against screen, and occasionally the odd irritated sigh or huff from Vox. It was familiar. The two of them would often work on their own projects in each other’s company, once upon a time, and this was much the same. It was almost… comforting . 

Eventually, Alastor gathered up the papers from where they had ended up somewhat spread over the make-shift table that was Vox, and once again organized them into a neat stack. “I’m finished,” he announced. 

Immediately, Vox set his phone down and swung his legs over the side of the couch to sit up. “Great!” He took the papers from Alastor, deposited them on the side table next to his phone, and then turned back to pull him into a kiss. 

Ah. Just when he’d started to think that was not the direction this night was going. But apparently, Vox just couldn’t help himself. 

Alastor sighed and returned the kiss, not even putting up a fight when Vox proceeded to grab him by the waist and pull him onto his lap. He braced his hands on Vox’s shoulders, slipping his tongue into his mouth to entwine with his, and eliciting a moan from the other demon. 

Kissing Vox really wasn’t so bad, Alastor had decided. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but he could make the most of it. He enjoyed the electricity, how easy it was to draw those delightful little sounds from Vox, and it was, of course, a perfect opportunity to indulge in his blood. 

Alastor let his teeth slice against the television demon’s lip, and he hummed in delight as he lapped up his blood. Vox groaned, pulling him tighter against him and rocking his hips up into him. 

It was Vox who broke the kiss after several minutes, his fans buzzing loudly as Alastor gasped for air. 

“Fuck,” Vox breathed, lips and tongue dancing over Alastor’s jaw. And then his hands came up to Alastor’s shoulders, pressing down. “On your knees.”

Alastor’s ears flicked back, his entire body tensing at the command. But that order by itself wasn’t enough for him to be able to get away with objecting, even if he had strong suspicions as to what would follow. Still, he should be able to stop it if he needed to… assuming Vox deigned to uphold their unofficial agreement. 

Slowly and stiffly, Alastor sank to his knees, so that he was kneeling on the floor between Vox’s legs, glaring up at him. The television demon drank in the sight hungrily, biting his lip as blood trailed from his mouth. 

“Ta- xc ke me ou- zt.”

Alastor eyed the already quite obvious erection straining at Vox’s pants with distaste. He had to at least show he was putting in an effort, even if he had absolutely no intention to carry out the demand. So, he reached up to unzip Vox’s trousers, noting the way the other demon shuddered as his claws skimmed over the bulge now hidden beneath just a thin layer of blue cotton. Bile rose in Alastor’s throat at the thought of what was to come and he swiftly withdrew his hand as though he had been shocked, even though that would have been a more pleasant experience. 

“Yellow,” he ground out, curling his hand into a fist against the pain of resisting. 

Vox let out a rather pathetic groan, his screen flashing in obvious disappointment. “Okay, stop,” he muttered reluctantly. He pouted as he patted the couch beside him. “You can get back up here...”

Alastor breathed a sigh of relief, and he did his best to keep his gratitude off his face as he clambered back to his feet and onto the couch. Vox had actually listened and had honored their agreement. It wasn’t entirely a surprise, but he still hadn’t been certain if he would or not. 

Vox took a few deep breaths before he turned his head to look at Alastor with a sigh. “Okay. What was it?” 

Alastor blinked owlishly, taken off guard by the question. “What?”

“What about it pushed you too far?” he reiterated reasonably. “You know, half the point of safewords is being able to talk about it afterwards and learn how to navigate things. If I know what the problem is, I can avoid it in the future.”

“This isn’t your typical case of using safewords,” he reminded him slowly. 

“Yeah, but it’ll still help me to learn,” he insisted. 

Alastor shook his head. Vox had done the same thing when he had responded negatively to being forced to touch himself the other day - had wanted to know why. Not that it had done any good. He didn’t understand. Vox had alway dove into everything in both life and death head-first, and sex was clearly no exception for him. Nothing that Alastor said would make Vox appreciate his trepidation at navigating these unfamiliar waters. 

“You know that I’ve never done any of this,” he explained stiffly, staring straight ahead. “The idea of touching another person’s body so intimately is… uncomfortable.”

Vox pursed his lips thoughtfully. “So, if I were to touch myself, that would be okay?”

“Why would I care what you do to yourself?” he asked incredulously, furrowing his brows. 

He huffed a sigh that was a touch exasperated. “Look, the past couple times have been fun and all, but I’m tired of cuming in my pants. If I were to say… sit on your lap and jack off while you touch me however you’re comfortable, would that work?” His hunger returned to his eyes as he made the request, screen lighting up with an anticipatory excitement. 

Alastor considered it. He hadn’t minded touching Vox’s torso, and he would certainly be able to take a bite out of him, even sink his claws into him, this way. So, as long as he wouldn’t have to deal with… that part of him…

He nodded. “Very well.”

“Fuck, yes!” Vox beamed as he shot to his feet and started stripping out of his clothes. He paused as he was halfway through the buttons of his shirt. “Actually… I want you to strip down to your underwear. Not even to grind against you, or anything like that,” he added with a roll of his eyes as he caught sight of the look on Alastor’s face and felt his resistance. “But the fabric of your pants is kind of rough, and it’ll just be comfier for me.”

“Fine,” Alastor bit out. He rose to his feet and began to strip in a much more controlled manner than Vox. “But don’t expect me to be nice to you,” he added with a cruel smile. 

Vox bit his lip, barely holding back a full-body shudder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” 

Once he was down to just his underwear, Alastor reclaimed his seat on the couch, facing Vox, who was now completely naked, and smirking down at him. 

“So,” Vox purred, motioning to himself like some kind of salesman advertising the merchandise, “what do you think?”

Alastor arched an eyebrow, his eyes flickering down to his hard and leaking member before quickly returning to his screen. “Am I supposed to have an opinion?” 

He immediately scowled. “Forget it,” he muttered, as he turned around to take a seat on Alastor’s lap, leaning back against his chest with a contented sigh. 

“Anything in particular I should be doing?” Alastor asked, resting his hands on either side of Vox’s waist for the time-being. He’d agreed to be cooperative, after all, so he figured he should at least ask. But nothing short of a blatant order would stop him from sinking his claws into the lapfull of bare flesh that Vox was so willingly offering up to him. He might even enjoy this. 

“Just touch me,” Vox instructed, his voice suddenly a little shaky. “The more, the better.”

He gave a hum of agreement and made to go in for a bite. But then again, that was probably exactly what Vox expected him to do, and where would be the fun in that? So, instead, Alastor’s lips skimmed gently over the side of his neck, tongue flicking against his skin. 

Vox gasped. “Shit,” he murmured, his head falling to the side as he wrapped a hand around himself.

Alastor chuckled and continued like that for a few seconds before he abruptly tightened his grip on the other demon, claws sinking fully into his flesh. Vox gave a shout that morphed into a moan, and then Alastor stopped holding back. He sank his teeth into Vox’s shoulder, tore at his flesh, and a chorus of cries and moans filled the air. Alastor couldn’t even tell what sounds were the result of pleasure and which were from pain, but they were all delicious . 

Alastor ran his hands firmly down Vox’s torso, pressing against his wounds and spreading his blood as he caressed him, while lapping up the blood at his shoulder. Vox’s moans were coming quicker now, the register higher, and Alastor peered down curiously. 

Vox’s hand was wrapped tightly around his cock, and he was stroking along its length in a quick, rough motion. Everything from the action to the inflamed tip looked painful (not to mention what Alastor had been doing to him), but he didn’t let up, a steady stream of staticky groans, some taking the form of mostly intelligible words, spilling from his mouth. 

“Fuck… yes… yes… Alastor…” 

Alastor let out a low growl at his own name being said with such blatant desperation. One hand curled around Vox’s throat, pulling him tighter against him, and he skimmed his teeth along his casing, drawing out a wanton whine. Then with his other hand he reached down, curling his claws around Vox’s wrist and bringing it to a stop.

Vox whimpered pathetically. “No… fuck, I’m so close…”

“I know,” Alastor murmured, his lips brushing against the side of Vox’s screen. “Now, be a good boy, and let go.” Heat curled in his own gut as he watched with a combination of hunger and curiosity, wondering if Vox would do as he said for no other reason than wanting to please him.

Slowly, Vox’s fingers uncurled from around his cock, and the sound he let out was close to a sob as he allowed his hand to drop to the side. Oh, that was just delightful. Alastor buried his face in Vox’s shoulder, instinctively hiding how much he liked that, despite Vox not even being able to see him. 

“Al…”

Alastor gave a delighted sigh as he lifted his head to prop his chin on Vox’s shoulder, giving himself a clear view. The Overlord sat in his lap, bloody, shaking, and painfully erect, holding himself back from touching himself only because Alastor had told him to. This power he held over Vox truly was intoxicating, made even more so because it was true power - it was purely Vox’s choice to submit to him, the power existing through desire alone, and not confined by a chain or any other superficial method.

Alastor hadn’t had a plan when he’d made Vox stop, but now he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to hear Vox beg for him, again. 

He reached out his hand again, this time touching just the tip of a claw to Vox’s cock, barely grazing it along the length.

“Oh, fu-czxck!” Vox would have lurched forward if Alastor’s other hand hadn’t remained tight around his throat, holding him up, so instead he just sort of shuddered, his own claws digging into his legs. “Alastor, please! Please, fuck - xcsz…” For a moment, his voice was completely corrupted by static, and Alastor could only assume that it was more of the same pleading. 

Alastor chuckled lowly against the side of his head. “Is there something you want, dear?” he purred. “Ask nicely, now.”

Vox groaned, squirming desperately on Alastor’s lap. “Pl-xcze, Al, plzzzzz tou tz ch me. Le- xct me cum.” 

He hummed, tapping his claw thoughtfully against Vox. “Face me,” he said decidedly, lifting his hands so that he could do just that. 

And of course, Vox scrambled to comply, nearly falling to the floor in his hast to turn around. He managed, though, straddling Alastor’s lap with his hands braced against his shoulders. And just as predicted, his screen was beautifully broadcasting a display of euphoria and torment, all colored by absolute desperation.  

Alastor kept his eyes on that face, on his wide, hopeful eyes, as he reached between them and wrapped his hand around Vox’s cock. Immediately, ecstasy erupted over his screen, momentarily replacing his face with bars of color as electricity crackled between his antennae. Oh, this wasn’t horrible at all.

It wasn’t that Alastor had any desire to be touching Vox like this, because he didn’t, but he did quite enjoy the reactions he was getting. And at the price of what? A bit of stickiness on his hand? That wasn’t so bad. He might think differently later, but right now, in the moment, he felt high on the power he held, and it was certainly worth it.

He steadied the television demon with a hand on his waist as his other made quick, sharp strokes along his cock. It didn’t take much. Within seconds, Vox was pitching forward with a cry of “Alazztor!” , his screen crashing into the deer demon’s shoulder, as a warm liquid seeped over Alastor’s hand. Remembering how his own climax had felt the other day, he didn’t let up until Vox completely stilled on top of him.

“Fuck,” Vox breathed as Alastor released him, immediately looking around for something to wipe his hand on. He spotted Vox’s discarded vest on the couch beside them and reached for it, cleaning his hand off and then tossing the material aside.

Vox was still clinging to him, his arms wrapped around his neck as though he were a life preserver in the ocean, his face buried in his shoulder. Alastor reached up to flick his antennae. “Enjoy yourself?” he asked with no small amount of amusement. 

“Mmhm,” he mumbled against his shoulder, his arms only tightening around him. “Gimme a sec.”

Alastor couldn’t help but laugh at the normally quite eloquent picturebox (when he wasn’t glitching, that was), reduced to this. He settled back into the couch, making himself as comfortable as he could with the other demon’s weight on top of him, and he allowed his hands to wander, tracing idle shapes over Vox’s back as he patiently waited for him to return to his senses.

He didn’t bother keeping track of the time, surprisingly enjoying the stillness of the moment, but eventually Vox stirred against him, straightening up to look at him with an expression that was just shy of incredulous. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded. 

Alastor raised his eyebrows in mild surprise; though his smile was still amused. “Was that not what you wanted?”

“Fuck yeah, it was what I wanted! But I thought… you said you weren’t comfortable with touching me like that.”

He shrugged casually, forcing himself not to overthink it. “I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?”

“Of course it’s allowed,” he huffed a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head, even as a pleased smile was spreading over his screen. “That was great, Al,” he said, running a hand through the other demon’s hair. “You want me to do anything for you? I can return the favor.”

Alastor immediately shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m just fine.”

“Really?” Vox raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Cause, uh, not to put too fine a point on it, but from where I’m sitting, it feels like you might be a little worked up.”

He blinked in surprise. Oh. So, he was. Hm. He still didn’t particularly want to do anything about it, though. “It will go away on its own.”

“That’s what you say when you don’t wanna take something for a headache, not when you have an erection,” he chuckled as he stood from his lap. “But whatever. You don’t want to experience pleasure, that’s your problem.”

“I derived plenty of pleasure from that, thank you,” he argued defensively.

Vox froze in the act of retrieving his boxers from the floor, his gaze snapping back to Alastor, and a smug smirk spreading over his screen. “Oh?”

Alastor went still as he realized what he had just said. Even worse, realized that he’d meant it. “Yes! I enjoy seeing you so pathetic!” he quickly recovered with a wave of his hand. 

Vox’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. Sure, Al. You know, I think you have a bit of a power kink. Which I saw coming from a mile away, by the way,” he added with a wink before he snatched up his boxers and straightened up. “I’m gonna go shower - wash all the blood off. You’re welcome to join, if you want.” 

Alastor said nothing, sitting frozen on the couch as he watched Vox’s smug screen disappear into the bathroom. Which I saw coming from a mile away, by the way. How was it that after all that, Alastor felt like he was the one who had just been played?

Chapter Text

Alastor seemed a bit… well, off for the rest of that night. He was already in bed when Vox finished with his shower, and he said nothing as the television demon curled up beside him and began tracing a hand over his torso. In fact, he said nothing at all for the rest of the night except to ask when Vox wanted him to air his ad and to confirm that he was okay when asked.

Of course, Vox could order Alastor to tell him if something was wrong, but did he really want to get into the thorny matter that was the Radio Demon’s feelings? Things were already complicated enough with his own. Besides, Vox hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d played by their established rules, and Alastor had escalated things with absolutely no prompting from him. And he’d clearly enjoyed doing so. 

Vox smiled to himself at the memory of coming down from his climax, only to realize that the Radio Demon was very much hard beneath him. It hadn’t been that surprising, really. Vox had already been piecing together what did it for Alastor, and a power kink was definitely at play there. It was one of the reasons Vox was so willing to be even more submissive with Alastor than he normally would be; he knew how much he liked it. Besides, it was Alastor. Even the faintest touch from him did more for Vox than all the sex he could have with anyone else in Hell. He enjoyed submitting to him. Though once Alastor was comfortable enough, he was definitely going to turn the tables on him.

And there was that pesky little caveat again. Once Alastor was comfortable enough. Vox was one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell. He could take what he wanted from anyone, and most definitely from a soul that he owned. So, why was he lying awake, worrying that he’d upset Alastor? Of course he’d upset Alastor! They hated each other! They’d been rivals for years! Causing the asshole misery was a fucking joy!  

Except it hadn’t always been…

“Alastor?” Vox did a double-take when he spotted the familiar figure sitting at the bar. “Alastor! Hey, what’re you doing here?” he asked, only slurring his words slightly as he leaned on the bar and attempted to flag down the bartender for another drink. 

Alastor heaved a heavy sigh without turning to look at him. “I was enjoying a drink in peace,” he murmured, the pointed jab entirely lost on the inebriated television demon. 

“Neat,” he said thoughtlessly as he slid onto the stool beside the Radio Demon. “Hey!” he shouted down the bar, waving his hand in a larger, more obnoxious motion. “We need a couple drinks down here!”

Alastor’s ears flicked irritably. “Do you think you’ve perhaps had enough?”

“Nah! I just had another pitch shot down, and I am drinking my sorrows away! About fucking time,” he added in a low grumble when the bartender finally placed a couple glasses of rye down in front of himself and Alastor.

“You know, if you can’t handle a bit of rejection, I think you’ll find that you won’t get very far in this afterlife.” The Radio Demon took a sip of his drink, still looking straight ahead, his gaze impassive. 

“Whatever. It’s their loss, anyway! They’re really gonna regret it when I make it big down here!” Vox tossed back half his drink, while Alastor gave a noncommittal (and perhaps skeptical) hum. “Hey,” he continued more thoughtfully, turning to face the other more fully as he leaned his elbow against the bar. “You know, we’d work really well together…”

Alastor sighed. “Vox, I have already told you, friendship and business don’t mix. It won’t end well.”

“You do shit with Rosie all the time!” he protested, already feeling himself getting worked up again. 

“Rosie and I are both Overlords, and we merely share information to help each other grow. It’s different.”

“But you don’t wanna help me grow?!” he accused, a hurt note slipping into his voice. 

“You need to help yourself, first,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t be doing you any favors by allowing you to lean on my influence.”

“Or maybe you’re just scared that if I succeed, I’ll be too much competition for you,” Vox snapped, his temper breaking the surface. 

Alastor went very still and slowly turned his head to Vox for the first time since the television demon had approached him, his eyes narrowed. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t see why else you’d keep the deck stacked against me. You’re afraid! The big, bad Radio Demon can’t handle the heat of the television!” he mocked, hardly even registering his words. 

His smile tensed, suddenly appearing almost forced, and when he spoke, his voice was brittle. “Vox, I have had a long day. And I have absolutely no desire to listen to the demands and accusations of someone who claims to be a friend. But I suppose all you really care about is what I can do for you, isn’t that right? So, let me clear that up: whatever you want out of me, you aren’t getting it, and you should feel very lucky that I am allowing you to walk away with your life. Goodnight.” He didn’t give Vox a chance to do more than gape at him before he shot to his feet and strode off in the direction of the door. 

Vox ran a hand over his screen, replaying his own words in his head with growing chagrin. “Fuck.” He pulled some money out of his pocket and slammed it down on the bar so that he wouldn’t get a bullet through the back of the head for running out on the tab and chased after the other demon.

He caught up with Alastor outside the bar, immediately reaching for his arm, before remembering that Alastor didn’t like to be touched and withdrawing his hand. “Al, I’m sorry,” he called out instead, his voice cracking with both emotion and static. “I didn’t mean any of that. I just… had a rough day. Not that that’s any excuse for the way I spoke to you, but… I’m sorry.”

Alastor came to a stop on the edge of the sidewalk, looking out into traffic with his hands resting atop his microphone. “You’re only sorry because I walked away,” he spoke quietly, but his voice was firm. 

Vox shook his head vehemently as he stepped up beside him. “No. No, I was an asshole. I’m mad at the pricks that rejected my pitch, not you. You’re the last person I ever want to lash out at. You’re my best friend, Al.” Technically, his only friend, but that wasn’t important right now. “And not cause I want anything from you - you don’t have to ever do business with me at all, if you don’t want! I just want you to be in my afterlife. Be by my side…”

“Oh?” Alastor still didn’t look at him, but Vox could see the arched eyebrow in his profile, and the almost amused tilt of his mouth. “And what about when you’re my competition?”

He scoffed. “I think Hell’s plenty big for the both of us. And I don’t even wanna compete with you. Not really. When I do get big, I’ll make sure I’m not stepping on your toes, or anything! Promise.”

Alastor shook his head slightly, though his smile had softened into something more genuine. “And that’s another thing that won’t get you very far down here,” he murmured, turning to face Vox, who met his gaze with a questioning look. “Your sentimentality,” he elaborated.

Vox just laughed. “I don’t care. I’ll always put you first, even when I’m at the very top!”

“I believe that’s the alcohol talking, bon ami,” he chuckled.

He grinned, delighted to hear his laugh. “So, am I forgiven?”

Alastor tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You do make it quite difficult to stay mad at you.”

“It’s cause I’m so charming!” Vox declared dramatically, flinging his arms out as he attempted to do a little spin. He lost his balance halfway through, but Alastor caught him before he could face-plant into the light post. 

“Oh yes, so charming,” he teased as he steadied him. “Now, I do believe I should make sure you get home safe.”

“I’m fine!” he protested, but he didn’t pull away because Alastor’s hand on him felt nice. “I think I’ll just go back in. Have another-”

“Absolutely not,” he cut him off firmly. “I will drag you home, if I must.”

Oh, now that did wonders for Vox’s imagination. A blush rose up in his screen and he fell silent as Alastor slipped an arm around him and began guiding him home.

Vox forcibly shoved the memory away. That was a long time ago, and things were different back then. He was different back then. Changing and adapting had been necessary to grow. And things were better this way. 

*

Alastor did his best to stay busy the next day. To keep his mind occupied with things actually worth his time, and not think about Vox. But of course that proved futile when the picture box just had to text him on the obnoxious cellular telephone that he was forcing the deer demon to carry around with him.

‘Come to my office,’ the text read, and Alastor let out a sigh. Were the nights not enough for him, now? But of course they weren’t. That was the thing with Vox; he was absolutely insatiable. The moment he got a taste of something - be it power, fame, money, and apparently Alastor himself - he just couldn’t get enough. Vox’s greed might as well be an addiction with the way he would ignore everything else in his life just to get more of whatever it was he was after.

But no one could say that Vox hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted. 

‘Give me 10 minutes to explain my absence.’ Alastor was aware that many people who knew him would assume that he didn’t know how to operate any kind of modern technology. Which was frankly a ridiculous notion. Alastor had always been excellent with technology, and just because he didn’t like anything that came about after his time, didn’t change that it was all built on the same framework, and the Radio Demon could understand and operate it all easily enough.

Vox replied with the image of a thumbs up, and Alastor informed Charlie that he had some errands to run before traveling to V Tower and stepping out of the shadows inside Vox’s office.

Alastor paused, looking around at the sharks swimming through the aquarium that extended down into the chasm around the lone, circular platform. Vox’s desk was the only furniture in the cavernous room, surrounded by surely more monitors than were necessary. It was all quite unnecessarily dramatic. 

He shook his head as he stepped up beside the desk chair that Vox was currently seated in, pouring over his electronic paperwork. “I assume you asked me here for a reason,” he addressed him curtly.

Vox looked up at the sound of his voice and a grin spread over his screen. “Yeah. I’m at my wit’s end with these contracts. I need a distraction to help me focus.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “That makes no sense.”

“It does to me.” He pushed his chair back from the desk and spread his arms. “Just sit in my lap and give me something to do with my hands while I work.”

His eyes narrowed and he stood his ground against the command. “Something like what, exactly?”

“I just wanna touch you,” he supplied with a roll of his eyes. “Play with your hair, run my hands over your chest, that kind of thing. I’ll avoid anywhere too intimate. Believe me, if I was trying to give you a hand job, I’d be giving that my full attention,” he added with a smirk. 

“Charming,” he sighed. Well. He supposed that really wasn’t too bad. 

Alastor took a step closer so that he could sink down onto Vox’s lap and lean back against the television demon. Vox immediately wound an arm around his waist as he rolled the chair back up to the desk to continue his work.

And continue his work was exactly what he did. His hand would roam over Alastor’s clothed chest, not making any effort to get under his clothes aside from unbuttoning his coat. Occasionally, that hand would drop down to caress Alastor’s thighs, or move up to run through his hair or rub at his ears, but through it all, Vox was seemingly entirely focused on the contracts he was going over. 

Normally, Alastor loathed being touched, other people violating his space, but maybe he’d already gotten used to Vox doing so, because this wasn’t so bad. It was almost relaxing, the way his body was being appreciated with absolutely no pressure to reciprocate or escalate. 

Though being accepting of Vox’s touch wasn’t actually new, he thought off-handedly as he reflected on the friendship they’d once held. The right to touch him freely was something that Alastor had only ever shared with his closest of friends, and once upon a time, that had included Vox. So maybe it was more accurate to say that he’d never gotten un-used to Vox’s touch. A week ago, that would have been a problem to fix, but there was hardly any point to that now. Vox was going to keep touching him, and it was in his best interests to be able to tolerate it.

His ears flicked in discomfort at the thoughts dancing around in his head. Because it was in his best interests to be able to tolerate this… intimacy with Vox, but that didn’t mean that he should enjoy it. And now that Vox was figuring out what Alastor did enjoy, he was wielding it against him like a weapon, making him feel in control, only to prove just how much he wasn’t. He wasn’t even in control of his own body! Meanwhile, Vox could put on a phenomenal show of surrendering to him, of behaving submissively just to manipulate Alastor into wanting things that were ordinarily the furthest from his mind.

And this was why he had been trying to avoid thinking about Vox today. Yet here he was on the television demon’s lap with nothing to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts. 

“You okay, baby?” Vox murmured softly, his lips brushing against Alastor’s ear. And why did he bother making it sound like he cared?  

“I’m just fine,” he replied stiffly. “I’m simply not sure what I’m doing here.”

He chuckled lightly. “Trust me, you’re helping. This is the most progress I’ve made in the past two days.”

Oh. And here he had figured that Vox had been making up the excuse of needing him to focus just to give a reason to have him sit on his lap all day. How odd. But it wouldn’t be the first habit of Vox’s that Alastor simply did not understand. And he doubted that it would be the last.

He peered at the contract that was currently pulled up on the monitor, eager to keep himself distracted from his thoughts, and scoffed when he recognized the name at the bottom. 

“What is it?” Vox asked curiously. 

“The unfortunate soul I had to babysit for seven years?” Alastor nodded at the screen. “That’s him.”

He laughed. “That so…? Huh.” He brushed his hand through Alastor’s hair, his tone taking on a thoughtful note. “You know, if you want revenge, I can make that happen.”

Alastor blinked in surprise, but his smile grew of its own accord as he turned his head to look back at him. “Such blatant favoritism among your souls!” he accused, mockingly aghast. 

He snorted as he brought up his other hand to cup Alastor’s cheek. “I don’t care. I’ll always put you first, sweetheart.”

The words tugged at something in Alastor like a buried memory, but he immediately shoved it away. “Well, as much as I appreciate the offer, I’d rather he not find out who I am.”

“Course.” Vox grinned at him, giving him a wink. “Guess I’ll just have to personally insure he’s miserable on your behalf, then.”

“How delightfully sweet of you, my dear!” His tone was still vaguely teasing, but he also sort of meant it. The idiot had made Alastor miserable for seven years; it was nice to know that he’d now be getting that tenfold. Because Vox certainly knew how to make someone miserable. It was an oddly thoughtful gesture.

The television demon leaned in, pressing his lips to Alastor’s cheek. “Oh, I can be very sweet, baby,” he murmured as he pulled back, his hand running down his back to return to his waist.

Alastor rolled his eyes, refusing to let himself get too comfortable in the moment. “When you want something.”

Vox’s arm tightened around his waist and his lips brushed against his ear as he spoke in a low voice. “I have what I want.” 

Abruptly, Vox’s other hand dropped to Alastor’s thigh and he used his grip to swing the Radio Demon around, slotting his legs beneath the chair’s armrest so that he was sitting sideways across his lap.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion rising as he took in Vox’s smug expression drinking him in. “I thought you said I was just here to occupy your hands while you work.”

“You are.” A hand smoothed down his chest possessively, and his words were smooth as honey. “I just thought this would be more comfortable for you.”

“Oh, and you’re always thinking of me, aren’t you?” The sarcasm dripping from his voice was practically venomous. 

Vox chuckled as he caught Alastor’s chin in his hand. “Always thinking about what you can do for me, at least,” he purred. 

Alastor’s smile sharpened as it climbed up the sides of his face. “Of course. I do merely exist for your amusement, after all!”

The television demon threw his head back in a derisive laugh. “Yeah. How’s it feel to get a taste of your own medicine, Bambi?”

He had been ready to put up a fight, but that brought him up short. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?” he demanded. 

When Vox’s gaze lowered to rest on him again, his eyes were narrowed, the amusement almost completely gone from his face. “Our entire fucking friendship, you just strung me along for your own amusement. You took every opportunity to drive home the fact that you saw me as beneath you! But you knew I’d do anything for you, and you knew just what to say to manipulate me into staying devoted to you, despite you treating me like shit the rest of the time! But I was nothing to you. Not really. And you know what? I may be doing the same thing now, but at least I don’t fucking pretend!”

Alastor’s incredulity that Vox actually thought he was worth putting on a constant performance for gave way to the simmering rage that had been existing beneath the surface of his emotions all day. “Ha! No?” he scoffed, noting the surprise on Vox’s face as he eyes flickered to his faintly creaking antlers. “Then what would you call last night? Pretending to surrender so beautifully just to leverage my body’s reaction against me!”

Vox’s own anger abruptly dissipated, his eyebrows climbed to the top of his screen, and his eyes were wide in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“Of course I’m serious! You said it yourself that you knew I’d have a - a-”

“Power kink?” he provided helpfully. 

“That. So, you pretended to surrender to me just to get me to… feel things.”  

Vox’s screen flickered for a moment before he dissolved into laughter. He doubled over, the top of his screen coming to rest against Alastor’s forehead while the Radio Demon scowled furiously. 

“You think I… fuck.” He straightened up, still laughing as he shook his head. “Okay, first of all, honey, it’s not like I made you feel anything. You can’t blame me for what you like. And second of all, yeah - it’s cause I knew you’d like it that I chose to be submissive, in the first place. Didn’t think it would lead to you giving me an actual hand job, but I’m definitely not complaining! But it wasn’t like I was fucking acting. I allowed myself to be submissive, sure - cause yeah, I’m obviously not fucking acting like that all the time. But that doesn’t mean my reactions weren’t fucking genuine once I let myself go there!”

Alastor went still as he processed his words, unsure of what to feel at that. So, his surrender hadn’t been fake…. It had been more than just a manipulation.

“I’ll even add in,” Vox continued with a growing smirk while his hand threaded through Alastor’s hair. “I’m never quite that submissive with anyone else. That’s only for you, babe.” 

Something clawed inside Alastor’s chest at that admission, seeking purchase in Vox’s flesh. He hadn’t even considered Vox submitting like that to someone else, and he was caught off guard by just how vehemently he loathed the idea. He hadn’t even realized that his antlers had started growing again, that his eyes had flickered into radio dials, until he saw the reflection in Vox’s wide eyes.

“G̸̱͙̯̣͒̔̽ò̶̼̭͒̍̐o̷͔͒̄d̸̡͚͉̩́͝.̶͚̾̎̂”

Vox’s eyes slowly traced over his antlers, drinking in all of Alastor’s more demonic features with a sort of reverence. Then he cupped his cheek almost gently and leaned in for a kiss. 

Alastor responded ferociously. He shoved Vox back in his chair and twisted around to straddle his lap as he swiftly took control of the kiss, slipping his tongue into his mouth to claim every inch of it. Vox’s groan was both surprised and needy. One arm wrapped firmly around Alastor’s waist and the other twisted in his hair. Meanwhile, Alastor’s hands slid over Vox’s chest before attacking the buttons of his vest and shirt, barely restraining himself from just tearing the fabric open.

Vox gasped as his shirt was yanked roughly off his shoulder, the sound turning into a grunt of pain when Alastor lowered his head to sink his teeth into his flesh. The Radio Demon sighed in pleasure, and a single thought rose, unbidden in the back of his mind. Mine.

*

“Fuck,” Vox panted, his hand repeatedly clenching and unclenching in his Alastor’s hair. “Alastor, I… fuck.”

He wasn’t quite sure how this had happened. Alastor had looked hot as fuck getting all worked up over him, and he’d wondered if he’d be able to get away with kissing him while he was like that. He’d planned to keep it short - just a brush of his lips - but before he knew it, Alastor was kissing him like he was his only source of oxygen. It was disorienting and invigorating, all at the same time.

His head rocked back against the chair as Alastor bit and licked at his shoulder. He pressed his hips up into him, and his breath caught when Alastor returned the pressure. He wasn’t hard, from what Vox could tell, but he pressed down with his hips, allowing Vox to grind against him.

Eventually, Alastor pulled back, licking his lips as he regarded Vox with hooded eyes and a lazy smile. “You should get back to work.”

Vox blinked, still a bit disoriented, and then he scowled as he processed the words. “Fucking bastard.”

Alastor chuckled as he twisted back around to sit sideways across Vox’s lap, resting his head against the shoulder that hadn’t just had a chunk taken out of it. “I’m just thinking of you, my dear,” he insisted in a sickening sweet voice as he nuzzled a little closer to his neck so that his hair tickled the bottom of his screen. 

“Oh yeah, how sweet,” Vox muttered sarcastically, but he couldn’t keep from smiling as he ran a hand along the deer demon’s side, squeezing him gently before he got back to work. 

This was nice. Really nice. He’d tried to get Valentino to do this with him a few times - just sit with him and let him touch him while he worked and Valentino played on his phone or whatever. But it always ended with Val either trying to escalate things or getting pissy that Vox wasn’t giving him his full attention. So, Vox had given up trying.

But doing this with Alastor was perfect. It stopped his mind from continually drifting off to the Radio Demon while he was trying to work, and it provided him something to do with his hands. And Alastor seemed perfectly content with it, curled up against him, breathing softly. The weight of him was also amazingly pleasant. Everything about his presence was, really. 

After a couple minutes, Alastor spoke softly. “I wasn’t pretending, either.”

Vox froze, and he was sure that Alastor would be able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, a quiet plea hidden beneath the bitter surface of the words. 

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth,” he said dismissively as he leaned back to be able to look at his face. “But we have already established that I enjoyed your company - you made me admit to as much under the compulsion of honesty, remember?”

“Course I fucking remember,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “But all you said was that I wasn’t just entertainment to you and that you enjoyed my company. That doesn’t preclude you from doing what you had to do to keep me around to feed your ego.”

“Don’t confuse me with you, Vox. I do not require other people’s praise and acceptance to be sure of myself. Though you certainly think a lot of yourself if you believe I would go to such lengths to keep you interested.”

Vox bristled at that. “Oh, yeah? So, what would you call acting like you give a damn about me - standing up for me, walking me home, giving your once-in-a-fucking-blue-moon compliments?!”

Alastor arched an eyebrow at him. “I would call that being friends.”

He quickly looked away from him before his composure could crumble. “Well, you could’ve fooled me with how much of a dick you were to me the rest of the time.” 

He started running through a list of things he hated about Alastor in his head, determined not to let his sentimentality get the best of him. He acts like he’s so much better than everyone else, despite being horribly outdated; if you disagree with him, he’ll label you as stupid and wrong; he only cares about himself and his pride, and if you challenge that, he’ll throw you away like garbage…

“So now you want me to have pretended for you?” Alastor accused with a faint smirk, knowing that he had backed the television demon into a corner. 

Vox’s frown deepened into a scowl. “No! I just… forget it. So, you gave a shit. It doesn’t change anything in the end, does it?” he snapped. 

It didn’t change the fact that Alastor had made Vox feel as though he would never be good enough. And that the more he did to prove himself, the more it felt like Alastor didn’t want anything to do with him. Not that any of that mattered anymore. Vox was the stronger one now, and he didn’t give a shit what Alastor thought of him. He didn’t. Really.

“No, it certainly doesn’t,” Alastor hummed in agreement before leaning back into Vox’s chest.

Vox glanced down at him, shook his head, and then set his jaw and got back to work.

Chapter Text

Alastor arrived early to the Overlord meeting, feeling tense. He knew that there was a very good chance that Vox would be in attendance today. He was still holding out hope, knowing that the television demon hated these meetings, that he had a lot on his plate at the current moment, but he just as well knew that Vox was unlikely to miss out on a chance to flaunt his new power. 

Sure enough, not five minutes after Alastor had taken his seat and exchanged pleasantries with Rosie, he sensed a presence at his side. “This seat taken?”

He looked up, unsurprised to find Vox smirking down at him. “Unfortunately not,” he murmured, immediately turning away from him. At least Mepistopheles had always kept to himself, never attending the Overlord functions; it was much easier for one to act like they were free when their owner wasn’t right beside them. Alastor could feel the tension of the invisible chain stretched between himself and Vox; a constant, silent threat that Vox could pull on at any time. The only defense he had was acknowledging him as little as possible.

The television demon let out a low chuckle as he sat down beside him. “Have a good night last night?” he asked casually.

Alastor kept his expression a careful mask, resisting the urge to grit his teeth. He would not give anything away. “It was fine,” he answered, his voice clipped. 

He’d ended up falling asleep on Vox’s lap as the other demon had worked yesterday, finding his touch surprisingly soothing. And Vox just… let him sleep. He didn’t even wake him up when he was done with his work. Then, when Alastor did eventually wake up, Vox decided that he could go back to the hotel for the night, since he’d kept him for most of the day. Which was reasonable. But Vox wasn’t reasonable. He was selfish and greedy, and he had absolutely no reason to act counter to his nature. So, why was he?  

Today, though, Vox seemed ready to make up for the selfless act. His hand brushed over Alastor’s thigh beneath the table, and the Radio Demon’s hands curled into fists as he carefully controlled any reaction. His eyes swept over the room, confirming that no one was looking at them, finding anything amiss. Vox grinned and gave his thigh a light squeeze. 

Alastor was relieved when Carmilla Carmine came in to begin the meeting. It didn’t stop Vox from touching him entirely, but it was a welcome distraction.

The first part of the meeting was nothing notable. No one knew what Heaven’s plans were after their spectacular failure of an extermination, and there was only so much they could do to ‘be ready for anything’. And honestly, what was the point of speculating, at this point? Alastor was as eager as anyone else to see where things would go from here, but unless anyone intended to force Heaven’s hand - which would certainly be entertaining - they were stuck waiting to see how things would develop. But he supposed that watching everyone flitting about nervously, unsure of themselves, was entertainment in and of itself. 

“While we are all together,” Carmilla continued, her eyes flickering to Vox, who had mercifully removed his hand from Alastor’s thigh. “We also need to discuss the death of Mephistopheles.” 

And now everyone turned to look at Vox, as he leaned back in his chair with a lazy smirk. “What about it?” 

“You may have inherited his souls, but Mephisto’s legacy went beyond that. He had notoriety even on Earth, second only to the Sins. Not to mention, he possessed more territory than almost any other Overlord, and now there are turf wars being waged over an entire city.”

“So, what?” he shrugged dismissively. “Earth should be used to notorious figures dying. And Stygian City is a dump.”

“Stygian art one of the nine circles,” Zestial interjected sternly. “And thus its integrity is essential to that of Hell.”

Vox rolled his eyes. “Right, and a few bombs thrown by some desperate wannabes are really gonna change that. But I’ll bite! What do you think needs to happen with the city? Since you clearly have something in mind.” 

“An Overlord must lay claim to it, ere it be destroyed.” He inclined his head respectfully. “Since thou dealt the killing blow, Vox, ‘tis just that thou hast first claim to his land.”

A few whispers broke out around the table, and Vox’s narrowed gaze swept over the room, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “I’m not leaving Pentagram City. The Entertainment District is mine.” 

Alastor was almost impressed. He had expected Vox’s greed at the thought of acquiring a larger territory to get the better of him, and for him not to see that they were trying to push him out of the city. He rather doubted that Zestial cared much, having a city of his own, but he and Carmilla had always been close, and she had never liked the proximity of Vox’s district to her own. Yes, Stygian City was inarguably valuable territory to possess, but Vox had once worked tooth and claw to acquire territory in the heart of the largest city in Hell, and he would be a fool to throw that away. 

“But…” Vox continued with a grin. “I have no problem owning territory elsewhere. Could be useful. And it would put a stop to the turf wars you’re so worried about.”

“You are proposing to take a city to yourself in addition to an entire sector of Pentagram City?” Carmilla demanded incredulously. 

A smug, leering smile spread over his screen as he leaned forward. “Who’s going to stop me?” Electricity danced around his hand as he held it up, and Alastor hadn’t paid enough mind to notice before, but the blue current did seem to be brighter than it used to be, now fueled with so much more power. “You were worried about the city being destroyed? Problem solved! I’ll keep it in line and expand my power base, all in one fell swoop! So, thank you for extending the offer to me first, Zestial. I’ll make the trip this week.” 

Carmilla looked as though she had been forced to swallow a lemon, and even Alastor had to admit, the reaction was quite amusing. None of the other Overlords around the table appeared too pleased, either, but no one said anything. Because frankly, Vox had a point. The only person in the room that was a match for him was Zestial, and when Vox could call on the other Vees as backup, there was honestly no telling how that fight would end. No one would dare to contest him. 

“Oh, and while I have the floor, I actually have something to discuss with you all,” Vox added, his voice upbeat and jovial. “VoxTek is unveiling our new augmented reality headset a week from tomorrow. We’re holding a launch party at the tower - start time is eight. You won’t want to miss it! But I do need to know if you’re attending, so I can put your name on the list.” 

“So you can brag about Overlord attendance, you mean,” an Overlord not much younger than Vox muttered. She’d tried to ride the television demon’s coattails once upon a time, and had quickly become bitter when the attempt had failed.

Vox raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you really want to try me, Luz?”

She peeked over her star-shaped sunglasses at him, her luminescent eyes glowing green, the light reflecting off her crystalline skin. “I’m just saying, you can be honest about the reason, dear. Overlord presence garners interest. We all know it.” She pushed her sunglasses back up so that her light source was contained to the faint glow of her hair, which appeared more like light refracted through a prism, even when twisted into a bun on her head. 

“Like I need any help getting people interested,” he scoffed. “So, who’s coming?”

No one responded. Alastor saw his own smirk mirrored by Luz. 

But a scowl only darkened Vox’s features for a second before it was replaced by a brilliant smile and he turned to his side. “Alastor! You’ll be there. Right?”

Oh. Clever. It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t. Alastor could feel the command flowing through the chain. Vox was giving him an order in front of the other Overlords. Alastor couldn’t stop his shoulders from tensing, and it took everything he had to keep his expression relaxed. 

“Oh, why not?” He waved his hand dismissively, but everything about his current demeanor was painfully forced. “It could be an interesting show!”

Every other Overlord turned to look at Alastor in surprise, and for the first time in his afterlife, the Radio Demon wanted to sink down into his chair, to disappear. His heart was pounding, and even though his collar wasn’t materialized, he felt as though it were glowing like a beacon around his neck. Physical torture would be a thousand time preferable to this.  

“You’re going to Vox’s party?” Luz asked, her voice uncertain. 

“You see, Alastor knows well enough to respect me.” Vox’s hand came down on his shoulder, and even though the touch was light, it felt as though it was a vice grip, burning; the gesture branding Alastor as his. He could fight back, but how far did he dare push?

“That or I’m bored and in need of some entertainment! Ha!” He leaned into Vox’s side tauntingly in an effort to take back some appearance of control. “You always have brought me much amusement, after all!”

“Oh, don’t get offended, Bambi, it’s a compliment!” Vox laughed, but a fire burned in his eyes as his grip tightened on Alastor’s shoulder, claws pressing into the fabric. Ah. Too far, then. “You know better than to tell me no, and others should really follow your example! Maybe you should give them that advice.”

Alastor let out a tense chuckle, his claws biting into his palms where his hands were curled into fists on his lap. His mouth was dry. Obeying would raise too many questions, but he couldn’t not obey, either. He wanted to rip something apart. Preferably Vox. 

“Honestly, he’s simply not worth the trouble of fighting with,” he said in a voice forced casual, not quite looking at anyone else at the table. “If you do, he’ll just feel the need to show off to make himself feel better, and it’s all very tedious. Might as well humor him so he’ll get out of your hair faster!” He shifted away, and breathed a small breath of relief when Vox released his shoulder and turned his attention back to the rest of the room. 

“So, I’ll be seeing all of you at the launch party, right?”

There were some murmurs of agreement. Several people shot questioning looks at Alastor, but he ignored all of them. In the end, Zestial and Carmilla were the only ones who declined to attend, and that was apparently good enough for Vox.

As the meeting ended and everyone filed from the room, Alastor took his time, wanting to put as much space between himself and Vox as possible. Rosie lingered with him, looking at him with concern that he loathed. He gave a small shake of his head and she sighed, giving his arm a light squeeze before taking her leave. 

He made his way to the exit a few seconds later, before being stopped by a voice. “Alastor.”

He turned to see Carmilla approaching him. A quick glance around confirmed that they were the last two remaining in the room. “Yes?” he asked politely. 

“Vox has threatened you,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Ah. So, was that the conclusion that everyone had come to. Alastor supposed it was better than the truth. He raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. “Is that what you think?” 

“Given your history, it’s hardly surprising,” she said as she drew to a stop at his side. “I was taken aback when he didn’t immediately pick a fight with you after his defeat of Mephisto, but after today, it makes more sense.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” he insisted through gritted teeth. 

“But you’re also not stupid. His power level is far above yours now. I know you and I have rarely seen eye-to-eye, but I sympathize with you. And for what it’s worth, I think you are handling the situation surprisingly well.”

Meaning she was surprised he hadn’t fought back. Except that he would if he could. He glared at the wall. “Vox is just an overgrown toddler who wants to prove he’s the biggest kid on the playground. And he can be placated in much the same way.”

“Vox is a problem,” she corrected, her voice hard. “He was rash and insufferable before he gained so many souls. I can think of few worse to have inherited Mephisto’s power.”

“I don’t disagree,” Alastor murmured. Though, he also wasn’t sure who he would have preferred to inherit his leash. Any option was a terrible one, but surely no one else would lord it over him and taunt him with it like Vox did, taking so much joy from it. But it was a double-edged sword, because he also knew that no one else would offer him some of the liberties that Vox did, would be almost comfortable for him to be around when there were no watchful eyes on them. Would Alastor prefer to be in a potentially worse situation, just to spite Vox by not letting him have something he desperately wanted? It was a good question, but it was also a moot point. 

“He is a threat to all of us like this,” tension thrummed through Carmilla’s voice, and her eyes were distant. “I fear for the future of Pride if he continues unchecked. I assume, if I were to find a way to move against him, I would have your support?”

“If it weren’t a foolish endeavor,” he allowed. Which him, of all people, going up against Vox certainly was just that, as he wouldn’t be able to actually do anything to him. It would work as well as him going up against Mephisto had. Then again, Vox had been able to take advantage of his distraction in that fight… 

Carmilla nodded understandingly. “Of course.”

*

Vox was sitting on the couch, scrolling through and deleting emails, when Alastor stepped out of the shadows of his room that night. 

The Radio Demon’s smile was a sharp rictus, and his eyes burned with anger as they landed on the other demon. “Did you have fun at the meeting?” he seethed, his neck cracking sharply to the side. 

“Oh, I certainly did,” Vox chuckled as he set his phone to the side and patted his lap. “Come here.” 

He could practically hear Alastor’s teeth grinding together as he walked over and straddled his lap with nothing more than a glare. Aw, he’d come so far, Vox thought with no small amount of amusement. His hands landed on Alastor’s waist and began to trace up and down his sides. “Something wrong, baby?” he teased.

His eyes narrowed to slivers. “You gave me orders in front of the other Overlords.”

“And you handled them so well!” he praised with a fierce grin. “I was impressed.”

“You humiliated me-”

“On the contrary, I think you did a great job of saving face,” Vox argued, and he meant every word of it. It had actually been a bit of a thrill to watch Alastor navigating the treacherous waters of their contract in public. He’d always admired how well the other demon could think on his feet. “I wanted a show, and you never fail to impress! Besides, babe, you’re airing an ad for me tomorrow. They were already gonna find out you’re willing to do what I ask, and at least this way, it won’t be a complete surprise when they hear it.” 

He moved his arms to wrap around Alastor completely, pulling him into his chest, and he was delighted when he didn’t put up any fight. The deer demon leaned against him and dropped his head to his shoulder, his hands resting against his chest between them. “I hate you,” he grumbled against him, his words slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

Vox chuckled, bringing a hand up to comb through his hair. “Likewise, dear.”

And he honestly did hate Alastor. He hated the way he thought he was so much better than him, even now. Hated how stubborn and set in his ways he was. Hated how he’d hurt him, and then kicked him while he was down. Hated how much he still yearned for everything from him. 

He dragged his tongue up the edge of an ear, watching it flick in response as Alastor made a small noise between irritation and amusement. “Tell me how you felt at the meeting,” he murmured softly, lips brushing against him. 

Alastor stiffened, predictably fighting against the command. “I felt… small,” he finally admitted after several seconds, the words dragged from him reluctantly. He kept his face buried in Vox’s shoulder, and his hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt. “Like I was backed into a corner and surrounded. Like everyone could see that you own me.” A shiver ran through Vox at those words, and he held him a little tighter. “I felt powerless,” he finished in a whisper. 

Vox’s eyes were large and hungry, and his hand tightened in Alastor’s hair, using his grip to pull his head up to meet his eyes. “You are powerless against me,” he said fervently. 

Alastor immediately snarled and tried to turn his head away, but Vox’s other hand came around to grip his face, holding him in place. His thumb trailed along his jawline, pressing just hard enough for a bit of blood to bead up on his skin. And Alastor was getting that deer in the headlights look again, his eyes a bit wider than usual, a trace of uncertainty at the backs of them. 

“I was thinking,” Vox mused casually, even as blood leaked out of his mouth, his expression betraying his eagerness. “The thing about a power kink is they can often swing both ways. I would know.” He licked his lips and noted how Alastor’s eyes seemed to instinctually dart to his tongue, perhaps a bit nervously. “And since my surrender the other night caused such turmoil for you, why don’t I flip the script? Give you a taste of being on the other side.”

Alastor’s lip curled in response. “You can’t seriously expect me to act like that,” he argued incredulously, and Vox knew he was thinking of his own behavior the other night.

“Oh, no,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I’m sure you being the submissive one will look totally different. But it doesn’t change that I’m in charge here.” His grip tightened on his jaw. “No hurting me tonight. Not even biting. Got it?” 

Vox dropped his hands, releasing his grip on the other demon in favor of working on the buttons of his coat. Immediately, Alastor’s smile sharpened and a cold laugh spilled from his throat. His hand shot forward, claws plunging deep into Vox’s side. “I think you forgot to make that an order,” he purred sweetly. 

Vox’s hungry smile didn’t waver, and he caught the Radio Demon’s other wrist before the claw could find purchase in his shoulder. And then he pumped a high current of electricity up that arm, making Alastor’s hair stand on end. “Oh, that wasn’t a mistake,” he cooed, holding the current for a couple more seconds before he relented. Alastor slumped forward, panting, his hands falling to his sides. 

“You have complete autonomy here, sweetheart,” Vox continued. “But if you disobey me, there will be consequences. Understood?”

Alastor’s expression was doing something interesting. It was as though it couldn’t decide what emotion to express behind that strained smile. Rage, fear, defiance, intrigue, hunger… It was like flipping through a picture book. And Vox drank in each minute expression eagerly.

Eventually, Alastor nodded, and Vox grabbed him by the throat to pull him into a fierce kiss. 

*

Alastor was… enjoying himself. Vox had gotten him down to his underwear, and was now completely naked himself, pinning him to the bed. His claws scraped against his flesh, and Alastor was pretty sure that he had kissed, licked, and/or bit every inch of him above the waist. He was far from gentle, which was perfect. It would all be too much if it didn’t hurt. And whenever that did start to become an issue, all Alastor had to do was dig his claws into whatever part of Vox he could reach, and he would be rewarded with enough electricity to set his teeth on edge. It was all surprisingly thrilling.  

For whatever reason, this didn’t awaken the cold dread in the pit of Alastor’s stomach that usually came with a lack of control. Maybe it was again a case of Vox’s touch just being different, or of knowing that this passion was only for him. Or maybe it was because Alastor knew that he wouldn’t go too far. Regardless, it was novel, it was delightful, it was…

Alastor moaned as he grabbed Vox, pulling him into another kiss. Like every other kiss that night, he didn’t even have a chance to take control, despite being the one to initiate it. Vox shoved his tongue so far back into his mouth that Alastor thought he might choke on it. A truly embarrassing sound spilled out of him at that, and he hooked a leg around Vox’s hips, urging him closer. 

“Vox,” he gasped as the television demon’s mouth returned to his shoulder, his tongue dancing with electricity as he licked over a bite he’d left there. And Alastor didn’t miss the way his breath hitched at the sound of his name, his hands convulsing around his waist. So, of course, he moaned it again. 

Vox’s hand slid down between them, his fingers running over the fabric of his boxers, and a sudden, uncomfortable lump rose in Alastor’s throat. He grabbed at Vox’s bicep, attempting to stop the movement of the arm without the use of his claws. “Yellow,” he managed to get out a second later.

Vox’s arm stilled, and he looked up at his face, arching an eyebrow. “Just over your boxers. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He immediately shook his head. “It’s too much. And we’re not having a conversation about this right now,” he continued when Vox opened his mouth, his voice sharp, but also breathless. He managed to pull his hand away, grinding up against his hip instead. “Keep going.”  

He blinked in surprise, but then grinned as he ducked his head, flicking his tongue over a nipple. 

Alastor came first, which was embarrassing, but if he’d had a bit of a clearer head, he might have noticed that Vox had been trying to focus most of the friction on the Radio Demon to ensure that result. An effort that was nearly ruined when Alastor came with his name on his lips, but again, Alastor was too out of it to notice.

“Fuck,” Vox gasped as he scrambled up to straddle Alastor’s hips, taking his own cock in hand. “You are so fucking hot like this, Bambi. Bet you’ll look even better covered in my cum.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything. He was too tired to protest something that would be no more than a mild inconvenience. Besides, he was already going to have to shower. 

So, he just watched, relaxed in the wake of his own orgasm, with his hands resting lightly on Vox’s thighs, as the television demon finished himself off with a grunt. The feeling of the warm liquid splattering over his chest and stomach was less than pleasant, but at least he’d known it was coming. Or rather, that Vox was coming, he supposed. 

Vox let out a pleased hum as he eyes trailed slowly over Alastor. “Oh, I was right.”

“Well, drink it in, because I’d very much like to shower and wash this off!” Alastor said flippantly, feeling as though he was starting to return to his senses after coming down from the temporary high his climax had left him with. 

He chuckled as he rolled off of him, staying close enough to press a kiss to his shoulder. “You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he murmured smugly. 

Well, he had. But he wasn’t about to give Vox the satisfaction of admitting as much. “The body is wired to respond in certain ways,” he dismissed with a shrug. “No need to read anything more into it than that.”

“Yeah?” he scoffed. “And you moaning my name was what?”

Alastor grimaced. Ah. Right. With a clearer head, that was much more embarrassing. And… a bit bewildering, as well. “I was just taking notes from you, my dear!” he lied.

Vox laughed, shaking his head. “You know what? Whatever helps you sleep at night. Hey, would you let me join you in the shower? I promise I won’t try anything.”

He arched an eyebrow at him quizzically. “Then why would you want to?”

He gave a small shrug, his eyes darting away from him. “Sometimes… just being close to someone after sex is nice.”

Oh. Right. Alastor felt himself growing tense at Vox’s words. Even though he had known full well what they were doing, the actual thought of himself having sex was… foreign and disconcerting. It wasn’t as though he had ever had anything against it, per se, he had just never imagined himself doing it. Let alone, enjoying it. What was happening to him?

And the thing was, he still felt no real desire for it. He could never have another orgasm again and be perfectly content. But he also wouldn’t mind, though he couldn’t imagine indulging in it with anyone but Vox … but he also had no desire for him! He still didn’t understand how people could go so crazy over how someone looked, or even sex in general. Even if he did enjoy it, he didn’t see what the big deal was…

Alastor’s thoughts were spiraling, and he quickly got to his feet, forcefully bringing them to a stop. “Fine,” he agreed curtly. Anything to not be alone with his thoughts right now.

*

Vox was already in the shower, adjusting the water of the rainfall showerhead, when Alastor stepped in behind him. He turned to face him, his eyes roaming over him greedily, admiring the water running over his grey and black skin. 

Alastor rolled his eyes as he took a step closer, tapping a finger against the bottom of his screen. “It’s a good thing your face is contained to a screen, or else I think your jaw might be on the floor.”

He laughed heartily. “I can’t help it. You’re hot as fuck.”

He made to step around him, but Vox stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Woah, hang on, there. You can stop to admire me too, you know.” He smirked confidently as he leaned up against the wall of the shower, posing a bit.

The look Alastor shot him was somewhere between confused and exasperated. “I really don’t care to.” 

Okay, ouch. Vox knew he wasn’t ugly - he thought he was pretty good looking, frankly - but if it weren’t for the fact that Alastor had been writhing and moaning his name not five minutes ago, he’d be feeling absolutely repulsive right now. Then again, it wasn’t like Alastor had been looking at him at the time. Maybe he did find him horribly unattractive, and he’d just been able to block it from his mind. Now wasn’t that a pleasant thought. 

“Are you-” He grimaced, biting his tongue. Yeah no, he was not asking that.

But of course, Alastor immediately latched onto his hesitancy with intrigue. “Am I what?”

Vox sighed, glaring at the floor and watching the water go down the drain. Just like his dignity when he asked this question. “Are you at all attracted to me?” he muttered. 

There was a very poignant pause. “No.”

Yeah, he really shouldn’t have asked. His shoulders slumped, and he felt his screen flicker with embarrassment. 

“But if it makes you feel any better,” Alastor continued nonchalantly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to anyone. I’m not sure I quite understand the concept, honestly!”

“Oh.” He looked up at him in surprise, trying to wrap his head around that. “Well… that’s something, I guess.”

He looked away, his smile tense. “Now, if we could drop this? This is a line of thought that I am actively trying to avoid, at the moment, as you seem intent on making everything complicated.” His eyes had gotten that slightly crazed look to them that Vox had noticed usually appeared whenever he was aroused. Which… he definitely wasn’t, at the moment - he was naked, so that much was obvious - so Vox could only assume that he was referring to enjoying sex in general. But why the fuck was that complicated?

Alastor stepped around him to grab the bodywash, and all at once, all of Vox’s thoughts were completely derailed. “What the fuck?!”  

Alastor’s ears twitched at the outburst. As did his tail. His tail. How the fuck had Vox not known that he had a tail?! He replayed the only other time he’d gotten Alastor completely naked, but he’d been so impatient to touch him, he hadn’t even made him turn around. And then he’d immediately given him boxers to cover up. But even so…

“How the hell have you been hiding that?” he demanded incredulously. He reached out to pet it, but his fingers barely brushed against the soft fur before Alastor spun around, positioning his back to the wall defensively, appearing a bit surprised by Vox’s reaction. 

“I… can shrink it to more easily hide it beneath clothes,” he explained a touch reluctantly. “It takes a bit of effort, but my coat hides it on its own, so I haven’t had to do it often.”

Vox shook his head and gave a forlorn sigh. “That’s what I get for being respectful and not grabbing your ass.”

Alastor blinked once, and then he burst out laughing. Which was exactly what Vox had been aiming for. He took advantage of his lowered guard to slink a little closer, reaching a hand behind the deer demon’s back to grab his tail, squeezing gently. 

Alastor still appeared more amused than anything as he rolled his eyes. “Darling, you have never been respectful in your entire afterlife.” He wrapped a hand pointedly around his wrist and pulled his hand away from his tail. 

“You’re right. And I’ve been an asshole today.” Vox’s remorseful tone was at odds with the huge grin on his face. “So, let me make up for being a dick to you at the meeting by shampooing your tail!” It was just so cute, and he really wanted to get his hands on it some more.

That started him laughing all over again. “You think I should let you make up for the meeting by doing something you want to do?”

“I mean, assuming I didn’t already make up for it by giving you an amazing orgasm,” he pointed out teasingly. 

“Again, something you wanted. I could take it or leave it!”

Vox decided to bite. He leaned in closer, bracing his forearm against the wall beside Alastor’s head. “So, what do you want, then?”

An indecipherable look passed over Alastor’s face, too quickly to put a name to, and then his smile climbed up the sides of his face. He raised a hand to trace lightly against Vox’s collarbone. “You know exactly what I want, dear.”

Oh, yeah. That tracked. Vox smirked. “Well. Let me help wash you up, and then you can have a little midnight snack. How’s that sound?” 

Alastor leaned forward, brushing his lips faintly against the side of his screen. “Perfect.”

Chapter Text

Vox was finally done going through all of his contracts, and so was able to shift his focus to preparing for the new product launch that weekend. He was just shooting off an email to his choice caterer when Velvette strolled into his office. 

“What can I do for you, Velvette?” he asked without turning around, able to see her clearly through his side monitors that displayed the feed from the cameras over the walkway. 

“You been on sinsta today?” she demanded as she came to a stop behind his chair. As usual, she had her phone in hand, and her lips were pursed as she scrolled through something on it. 

“No,” he answered offhandedly as he pulled up another email. “Why?”

Velvette gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed the back of Vox’s chair to spin him around to face her. “Everyone’s goin’ apeshit over the Radio Demon advertising VoxTek.” She arched an eyebrow as she held out her phone, allowing Vox to see an image of a particularly surprised Sinner, captioned, ‘My face listening 2 the radio when the #RadioDemon starts plugging a #VoxTek product 🤯📻🤑 #wtf #RadioTekCollab’  

Vox smirked. “Oh. That.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah. That.” With a wave of her hand, she materialized a chair of her own and sat down in front of him. “I mean, this is great. It’s all anyone can talk about right now, and interest in attending the launch party has fuckin’ doubled. Everyone wants to see if he’ll be there and how you’ll both interact. But how the fuck did you get him to agree to that?” 

He waved a hand dismissively. “No one can say no to me anymore, Vel. Not even Alastor.” Especially not Alastor. Well… unless Vox let him. Which he was doing with alarming regularity. 

Velvette appeared unconvinced as she leaned back in her chair. “I mean, I get that, but from everything you told me about the guy, I thought he’d be puttin’ up more of a fight.” 

Vox just shrugged, examining his claws. “He knows he can’t.”

“Right. Well, is he comin’ to the party next weekend?”

“Yes, he’ll be there.” Which was quite the exciting prospect. Alastor had never attended one of his product launches before, even before their falling out. Having him there felt like it would be some kind of monumental achievement. 

“Good.” She tapped out something on her phone, and then slid it into her pocket. “You know, if you can manage to get a dance with him, people will eat that shit up.”

Vox’s mouth curved up into a cocky grin. “Oh, I can make that happen.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Don’t let all that power go to your flat head,” she advised with a light kick to his shin. “Or your other head, either,” she added as an afterthought. 

He threw his head back in a laugh. “Don’t worry, Velvette! I have everything under control.”

“I know ya’ do, V,” she said with a hint of fondness in her tone. “But that don’t mean you don’t need me here to keep ya’ grounded. Lucifer knows Valentino won’t.” 

“I don’t know how I ever managed without you,” he agreed with a faint chuckle. Velvette joining the Vees had been a godsend (HA!). She leveled both him and Valentino out in a way that had been desperately needed, and if either of them were being stupid about something, she had absolutely no qualms calling them out on it. She was also unquestionably the best person to go to for advice, assuming you were okay with nothing being sugar-coated. Which sometimes Vox needed. And actually…

“Damn right,” Velvette affirmed with a smirk. “You need anything while I’m up here? My models are giving me a fuckin’ headache.”

“Actually, yes,” Vox said slowly, leaning forward in his chair a bit as he spoke. “I could use your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He still didn’t want to give too much away, after all. “There’s this guy I’ve been hooking up with-”

Velvette blinked in surprise at the direction of the conversation and interrupted. “Uh, you sure you shouldn’t be goin’ to Val for the sex advice?”

Vox grimaced. “I don’t think he’ll be able to help with this one.”

“Wait, hang on a minute. You’ve been ‘too busy’ to spend time with Val, but you’ve been hookin’ up with some rando?” she accused, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Oh. Right. Shit. He gave her a slightly sheepish look. “It’s…” He couldn’t say it was easier, because Alastor was anything but easy. “Just been what I needed,” he explained lamely.

“Right,” she sighed, waving her hand impatiently, her adamant desire to stay out of Vox and Val’s relationship drama working to his advantage. “Go on, then.”

Vox sighed, his gaze darting down to his lap, where he’d began subconsciously picking at his pants. “So, this guy. He’s great in bed - like fucking amazing in bed - but he’s weird about sex…”

Velvette propped her elbow on the arm of her chair in order to rest her head on her hand, appearing intrigued, despite herself. “Weird how? Figured you’ve seen everythin’ by this point.”

“Yeah, not this,” he muttered. “For one, he was a virgin. Completely. Hadn’t so much as kissed anyone before, or even touched himself.” A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered just how many firsts he was to Alastor. He continued, a bit of frustration creeping into his tone. “Said he had no interest in sex. But fuck, he definitely is interested if I can get him moaning my name like he did last night. And then he always looks so surprised that he actually enjoyed himself. Says I’m making things complicated. And one time he didn’t even want to get off, despite the fact that he had to be achingly hard. Oh, and he still won’t let me even touch his dick! I just don’t understand it.” There was also the fact that Alastor wouldn’t even be doing any of this if Vox didn’t own his soul, but he couldn’t exactly include that part. Besides, Alastor had escalated things himself a couple of times of his own volition, so surely that meant at least a part of him wanted Vox. Right?

“Who said you hafta understand it?” Velvette asked curiously, eyebrow raised. “If it’s scratchin’ an itch for you, tha’s what matters, right?” 

Oh, and that was the question, wasn’t it? Why did he feel the need to understand? To pull out all the stops to make sure Alastor could enjoy himself? Vox was satisfied, and that should be enough. Except, he wasn’t satisfied. And sometimes he thought that that was his curse in Hell - to never be satisfied. Even when he got something he’d so desperately wanted for so long, he couldn’t just be happy with it. He always had to find a way to improve. Perfection always just out of reach. 

“I just… I want to,” he answered helplessly. He wanted to know everything about Alastor, to understand what made him tick. He could better manipulate him that way, after all. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Okay…” Velvette mused thoughtfully. “Well… maybe he jus’ has low sex drive, but his attraction to you makes him wanna do stuff, anyway.”

Vox was already shaking his head, his brow pinched and mouth set bitterly. “That’s the thing, he’s not attracted to me. Literally told me as much. Said he’s never been attracted to anyone, so I guess that means I’m not supposed to be offended.”

She snorted a sharp laugh. “Well, there’s your answer, moron!”

He looked over at her with a frown. “What do you mean?” 

“He’s asexual.”

Vox’s frown only deepened at that. “What? No. I told you, he’s into the sex. Kinky as fuck, too.” Even if he knew Alastor wouldn’t put it that way, it was definitely the truth. 

Velvette rolled her eyes. “All ace means is that they don’t experience sexual attraction. Believe me, I had an ace girlfriend for a bit back when I was alive, and she was a kinky bitch, too. Tryin’ to remember how she put it once… somethin’ about sex just bein’ a medium for her to experience the kink, or some shit like that. I certainly wasn’t complaining! Sure, I think some of them aren’t into sex at all, but that’s not everyone.”

“Oh…” That… could actually explain a lot. “So, how do I get him to admit he likes sex, then?”

“How the fuck should I know?” she laughed. “My girlfriend was already there when we got together. Maybe jus’ take things slow? Give ‘im a chance to feel out what he likes.”

“I’ve been taking it slow!” he protested petulantly. If he’d had it his way, he would have fucked Alastor night one! 

Velvette paused, her eyes narrowing as they scanned carefully over Vox’s screen. “You really are puttin’ quite a lotta effort into some random hookup,” she observed. 

Vox felt his screen tint pink. “He’s… it’s…”

Her eyes blew wide, and she shot forward in her chair. “Oh. My. God. You’re actually fucking the Radio Demon! Aren’t you?” 

His eyebrows shot up. “How did you…?”

“Please, Vox. Who else would you be workin’ this hard for? Besides, Mr. Not-Even-Alastor-Can-Say-No-To-You…” She gave him a sharp, pointed look. “How’d you get him to agree? Him bein’ ace totally tracks. Him sleeping with you doesn’t. Unless…” She straightened up, snapping her fingers as she made the realization. “He literally can’t say no to you! Mr. Big Bad Radio Demon is on a leash?! Oh, that’s too good!”

Vox crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a little miffed. “Excuse you! Why does it only make sense for Alastor to sleep with me if I own his soul?” 

She fixed him with a patronizing smirk. “Cause it’s the truth. So. When were you gonna tell us?”

“I wasn’t,” he sighed, running a hand over his screen. This whole conversation had been a bad idea. Of course Velvette was smart enough to put the pieces together. But her perspective had also been invaluable. “Not for a while, at least. I don’t want to share him. And you know if Valentino finds out, he will not shut up about me letting him borrow him for a shoot.”

“Fair point,” she allowed. “But you get your greatest enemy’s soul, and you just make him run your ads and sleep with you? You could discredit him in every way imaginable! Make him a laughing stock! And think what that would do for your image, V.”

Vox looked away, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not what I’m after. He’s more valuable to me with his reputation intact. I mean it, Velvette,” he added sharply as he turned back to her. “This isn’t going public.”

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, slumping back in her chair disappointedly. “Didn’t realize you still had feelings for him.”

He froze. “I don’t,” he immediately protested, the words as stiff as his posture. 

Velvette raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “You’re letting him call the shots! You said it yourself - there’s things he won’t let you do, and you’re respectin’ that. You even came to me for advice! Because you want to make it better for him. You want him to want you. He’s your enemy, and you own his soul! All this really isn’t necessary. Unless gettin’ your rocks off isn’t the only thing you’re after here. You’re after his heart,” she mocked.

“No.” He shook his head frantically, feeling his fans kicking up a notch. “I hate him.”  

A hint of sympathy touched her eyes, and she leaned forward, resting her hand on Vox’s knee. “That sayin’ ‘bout there bein’ a fine line between love an’ hate? Yeah, they say that for a reason. You clearly feel something for him, or else you wouldn’ give a shit about his comfort, or about him saving face. You could torture, humiliate him, and move on. But you’ve just gotta make things complicated by carin’. Bet you enjoy cuddlin’ with him, too,” she added, a bit of teasing slipping back into her voice.

Vox recalled holding Alastor in his arms while he’d worked a couple days ago. It had felt so nice, without being sexual at all. Even when he’d finished his work, when he’d realized that Alastor had fallen asleep, he’d just held him like that. Listened to his breathing, watched the faint smile that was present on his face even in sleep. Vox rarely sat still that long, but he hadn’t wanted to move.

He let out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I feel for him. I own him. That’s our relationship. All there is to it.”

“So, when I leave this room, you aren’t goin’ to immediately start looking up advice for datin’ an asexual?” 

“Of course not.”

Velvette looked at him skeptically for a minute, then shook her head and got to her feet, stretching her arms over her head as her chair vanished. “Whatever. I’m not arguin’ with you. I should get back to work, anyway. And don’ worry, I’ll keep your secret.”

“Thanks,” Vox muttered. He watched her walk from the room, trying to ignore the uncomfortable weight their conversation had left him with, and then he turned back to his computer and pulled up the search engine. 

*

“Hey, boss.”

Alastor paused on his way back to his room, glancing over his shoulder at the source of the voice. “What is it, Husker?” 

“Heard your broadcast,” Husk commented, his face showing his usual disinterest, but he wouldn’t be broaching the subject, if that were really the case. “Vox got you shilling for him now?”

“I do hope that’s not what you sought me out to ask about,” he said, his voice a low warning as he turned around to face the other demon. 

“It’s not,” he sighed, finally looking at him directly. “Rosie is downstairs. Wants to talk to you.”

Alastor grimaced, turning to glare at the wall. Of course she was. And Alastor was normally ecstatic to see his dear friend, but he had a feeling he knew why she was there, and he did not want to talk about that particular subject matter. “Tell her I’m very sorry, but I’m busy.”

Husk raised a brow. “You know that’s not gonna work on her. She’ll march straight up to your room.” 

Unfortunately, he had a point. Alastor checked his watch. He still had an hour before he had to go see Vox, but there was nothing saying he couldn’t arrive early. And the picture box was often working late, and likely wouldn’t even be in the room, anyway. 

“Then tell her I’m out. I have to be leaving, anyway.”

“It’s only nine,” Husk pointed out, his frown deepening.

“Well, it never hurts to be early!” And with a flourish, Alastor disappeared into the shadows before he could be forced to endure further protests, traveling through the shadows of Pentagram City until he reached V Tower.

He remained in the shadows when he arrived in Vox’s room, scanning the area, and was relieved to find that he was correct in his assumption - the room was empty, Vox nowhere to be seen. He took care to disrupt the signals of the cameras - careful to not fry them completely this time - and then stepped out of the shadows with a satisfied smile. If Vox returned to his room before ten, he could easily lie and say that he’d been running an errand in the area, and it wasn’t worth going all the way back to the hotel before coming here, but he’d prefer not to be questioned on it. 

He cast his gaze around the atrociously modern room, seeing if anything caught his attention to help him pass the time. Of course, most things in the room were VoxTek products that held no interest to Alastor whatsoever; however…. The Radio Demon wandered over to the desk at the side of the room and began rifling through the drawers curiously. Vox had told him to make himself at home here, after all; perhaps he should have been more careful with his words if he didn’t want him snooping through his things. 

The first couple drawers held nothing interesting. Just generic supplies and dismantled technology. The third drawer held… oh, dear. That was a great deal of what could only be sex toys, the majority of which Alastor didn’t have the faintest idea of how they would be used. He quickly closed the drawer and moved on to the other side. There were only two larger drawers on this side, both locked. Now, that was more promising. 

He was easily able to unlock into the top drawer by hacking the electric lock, but it was only filled with files that Alastor rather doubted would be of interest to him. The bottom drawer, though… this lock was a traditional one, which was highly unusual for Vox. Aside from his obvious affinity with electronics, it was also far easier for the television demon to get into his electric locks by simply sending out a signal. So, why would he have a drawer in his room that he needed a separate key for?

Alastor conjured a thin tendril of shadow and set to work picking the lock, officially intrigued. It only took him a minute, and then he pulled the drawer open to reveal what at first glance appeared to be various scraps of paper and a small, unassuming box. Alastor was almost disappointed. Still, he picked up the crimson box curiously and opened it at its hinge. 

Inside was a pocket watch. But to say that really didn’t do it justice. The piece was gorgeous. The metal was black, and the rim was decorated with symbols that were very familiar to Alastor. The middle was open-face, with the exception of a pair of antlers that arced through the center, connecting to the rim on either side and the base. He pressed down on the ruby-adorned crown and the case snapped open. The interior was rimmed with rubies, set nicely against the otherwise simple clock face. Turning it over, Alastor saw that a part of the backing was glass, giving view to the inner workings, with engravings both above and below the window. The top engraving read, For Alastor, and at the bottom, Love, Vox.  

Alastor stared at the device, turning it over in his hands several times, admiring every facet of it. The motor had died, probably years ago, but that could be fixed easily enough. And otherwise, the watch was in perfect condition. He brushed his thumb over the engraving. Vox had clearly put a lot of thought into this. 

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the watch, instead taking a second look at the box itself, hoping for some sign of when exactly Vox had planned to give this to him. Sure enough, there was gold-embossed text on the bottom of the lid: Welcome to the team.  

Ah. Well, that would explain why he had never gotten it. He vaguely wondered if Valentino or Velvette had received such lavish, personalized welcome gifts, or if Vox was only this indulgent with him. His finger trailed along the cut-out antlers on the case. The craftsmanship was impeccable. If Vox had had this made back when he’d first started asking Alastor to join his team, this would have been quite the significant purchase for him, having been not nearly as well-off as he was now. There was no way he could have afforded to do something like this for Valentino, too. Just with him, then, Alastor thought with a smug smile. Good. 

He turned his attention to the other contents of the drawer. The majority of it, he quickly realized, were letters written from himself to Vox over the years of their friendship. He appeared to have kept all of them. There were some newspaper articles, too - mostly about Alastor; though there were some about Vox when he was just starting out - as well as a picture taken at some Overlord funcion - one of the extraordinarily few that Alastor had allowed to be taken of him, and only because Vox wouldn’t shut up about it, at the time. They’d taken two that night, but the one in the drawer was the more relaxed one - Alastor had an arm around Vox’s shoulders, and the television demon was looking at him with that besotted look he’d so often worn back in the day. And Alastor realized that this drawer was essentially a time capsule of their friendship. It was a bit surreal to look back through it all. Vox had once been so very different…

Alastor spotted some crumpled up pieces of paper at the back of the drawer, and he drew them out, flattening them. They appeared to be half-finished letters addressed to him. The earliest dated over a year before their falling out. 

Al,

I think you’re right about me having unrealistic dreams. Nope, that was cheesy, scratch that. Why is this so difficult?

I love you. There, I said it. I love you. I’m in love with you. Have been for a little while now. And I know you’re probably going to laugh at how stupid I am for that, but I can’t exactly help it. You make me feel so alive. More alive than I felt when I was actually alive. I can’t get enough of being around you, it’s like I’m addicted. 

I know you don’t feel the same. I keep thinking that if I can just prove myself, make myself better, then maybe

Alastor’s eyes were so wide he could feel them twitching as he stared at the unfinished letter, his smile strained and an uncomfortable weight in his stomach. Vox had… been in love with him? He’d known that the television demon had admired him, had been delightfully devoted to him. He’d even had suspicions of his attraction. But… love?

Alastor warily moved on to the next letter, this one dated approximately a month after the first. 

Al,

I know you say that friendship and business don’t mix, but I think I can prove you wrong. We mesh so well together. It feels like we’re doing a disservice to our friendship to stop there, when we can be so much more.

So, let me prove to you with Valentino that this can work. And then when you see that it can, there will be no reason for you not to join up with us, right?

I just need you by my side in whatever way I

The next was written several months after that. 

Alastor,

I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about joining me and Val. We can do great things together, I just know it! So, why are you so opposed? Is the idea of working closely with me that terrible?

I’m not above bribery, and I got you something, if you agree to join. I actually got it back when I first asked you, and it’s been wearing a hole in my pocket, so just agree so I can give it to you, already. I know you’ll like it. 

I mean, come on, the whole reason I started working with Valentino in the first place was to prove to you that this can work. I need you

The letters got shorter after that. 

Alastor,

Do you really think you’re still so much better than me? Is that the deal? Cause that’s really not fair. Do you know how much I’ve done to try to prove myself to you?

Alastor,

You know, you really are an asshole. Oh sorry, was that a crap way to begin a letter? Well, guess what? Telling me how bad you think my latest show was was a crap way to begin a conversation with your best friend. If you even actually consider me that.

Alastor,

If you think I’m writing to apologize for our argument yesterday, you’re wrong. I’m my own person with my own opinions, and I’m done letting you walk all over me. You said you don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. Well, it’s a fucking backbone. And if you can’t handle that

There was only one more, and it only took Alastor a second to recognize the date on it - it was the day after everything came to blows between them.

Radio Demon:

Fuck you. I hate you and I’m done. If you think I’m going to go chasing after you, apologizing, begging you to forgive me, you’re wrong. You’ll have to find someone else to feed your precious ego. You’ll need it when I completely destroy you, when I make you a fucking laughing stock. 

Everyone has a weakness. You taught me that. And I’m going to find yours and air it for all of Hell. And only after I destroy your reputation, then will I consider putting you out of your misery by killing you myself. 

I can’t believe I ever

It stopped there, but Alastor could easily guess the rest of the sentence. I can’t believe I ever loved you. He took a deep, steadying breath as he returned all of the papers and the box to the drawer. That was… not what he had been expecting.

He glanced at the clock as he straightened to his feet. It was already a little after ten. He was lucky Vox hadn’t walked in on him, as that surely would have led to a very uncomfortable conversation that Alastor did not want to have. It would be best to just forget everything he had seen in that drawer. Of course, that was easier said than done. Especially when he was left alone with his thoughts, waiting for Vox to arrive. 

Alastor started pacing the room. So, Vox had been in love with him. But he clearly wasn’t anymore, so did that even matter? It was irrelevant. No more significant than someone saying that their favorite color used to be red. It was simply information that no longer applied. So, why couldn’t Alastor think of anything else? 

Everyone has a weakness. You taught me that. And I’m going to find yours and air it for all of Hell. Liar. He did no such thing. Even when Vox had toyed with him in front of the other Overlords, he’d basically admitted after the fact that he’d wanted Alastor to save face. But why didn’t he take this opportunity?

I love you. I’m in love with you. Alastor’s hands twisted in his hair, pulling at the strands. Vox had actually considered confessing that to him. He’d said that Alastor would probably laugh at him for it, and he might well have been right about that. But right now the Radio Demon just felt… confused and a bit ill. Which was stupid because it didn’t matter! Still, he kept replaying scenes from their friendship in his head, now seeing it all in a new light.

It was past 10:30 by the time Vox finally arrived at his bedroom. His presence bringing both relief and trepidation.

Alastor stopped his pacing, his hands hidden behind his back as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re late,” he acknowledged as casually as possible. “Long day?”

“Uh, no, not too bad,” Vox muttered, and Alastor wasn’t sure if that was a hint of unease in the television demon’s expression, or if he was just projecting. He hung up his coat before turning back to him to finish his explanation. “I was with Val.”

Alastor suddenly felt as though there was a beast in his chest, clawing to get out. His smile became even more strained. “Business meeting?” he asked, even though he knew that wasn’t what it had been.

He let out a light chuckle. “Not exactly.”

“I see,” he seethed through gritted teeth, breathing heavily as he struggled to contain his raging emotions, glaring at the wall. Vox had kept him waiting, while he’d gone to have sex with Valentino. Alastor wanted to rip that useless moth limb from limb. 

“Um…” Vox cleared his throat as he walked closer, taking in the other demon’s tense posture carefully. “Your ad was really good.” 

“Of course it was,” he replied stiffly without looking at him.

“What’s up?” he asked warily. “You seem even more pissy than usual. Is it… was last night too much, or something?”

His surprise at the question was enough that Alastor actually turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “As if you’d care if it was.”  

Vox breathed out a frustrated sigh, eyes darting away. “Right. So is that it? I mean, you seemed to enjoy yourself at the time,” he grumbled.

“If you could stop thinking about sex for five seconds, you might realize that you’ve kept me waiting in here for over half an hour, and I don’t appreciate my time being wasted,” he snapped. “Not to mention, I knew you were greedy, but is two guys back to back really necessary?”

He blinked in surprise, and then quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Woah. Okay. I am sorry about making you wait - I lost track of time. But I’m not trying to sleep with you tonight. Figured you could, I dunno, use a break, or whatever.” He looked away, his expression pinched into a frown. 

So, was that to mean that Vox had gone to sleep with Valentino instead of him, then? Alastor supposed he should be relieved by that. He wasn’t. “Then why am I even here?” he demanded coolly. 

“I…” Vox looked back at him uncertainly. “I mean, I guess you could leave. I don’t technically have anything for you…. But I do have to review some footage my production team sent me, and the company would be nice.”

“Hmm. Well, that just sounds miserable,” he remarked lightly, attempting once again to quell his anger at…. At what, exactly? The wait had at least allowed him time to collect himself somewhat. For all the good that did now. Yet it still enraged Alastor in a way he didn’t quite understand. One thing he did know for sure, though, was that he didn’t want to lay in bed with nothing but these thoughts swirling in his head. “But I suppose I am already here!” 

Vox perked up. “Great! We can watch it in bed. Go ahead and get changed, make yourself comfortable.”

He nodded and made his way over to the dresser, pulling out some blue lounge pants to get changed into. Vox, predictably, simply stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed, where he set to pulling something up on the large screen on the wall across from it. 

The routine process of folding his clothes helped Alastor to calm down a bit more, so that by the time he crawled under the covers beside Vox, he no longer felt as though he was a hairsbreadth away from snapping. Vox extended an arm to him, and he obligingly shifted closer, so that the television demon could wrap his arm around him, tucking him into his side. 

Alastor let his head rest on Vox’s shoulder, and he reached out a hand to idly trace over his chest, trying very hard not to think about who had only minutes ago been touching him. At least there were no marks left on him, no signs of what he had just been doing, of Valentino foolishly attempting to claim him as his. Without thinking about it, Alastor turned his head and sank his teeth into Vox’s shoulder. 

Vox sucked in a sharp gasp of pain. “Fuck! Al… warn me…”  

He just hummed and repositioned his mouth to bite down again, making sure the mark he left, however temporary, would be a messy one. Vox pet a hand over his ears as he breathed through the pain, and then his hand slid down, slipping into the waistband of Alastor’s borrowed pants and his underwear. He was about to pull back to protest, but Vox’s hand simply closed around his tail, lifting it out of his pants, and Alastor couldn’t help but chuckle against his bloodstained neck. He’d had no idea that Vox would find his tail quite so fascinating. 

Vox played with his tail while Alastor indulged in his blood, and by the time the Radio Demon pulled back, his spirits had lifted considerably. A good snack could do that. And Vox’s petting was surprisingly nice. 

“Can we watch this now?” Vox demanded, and it seemed as though he was trying for exasperated, though his smile and laugh ruined it.

“Oh, I suppose,” Alastor agreed with a roll of his eyes. And then just to see what Vox would do, he pressed his lips to his in a chaste kiss. 

Vox’s eyes blew wide, and a spark danced between his antennae. He let out a slightly shaky laugh. “What was that for?” 

“The snack, of course,” he lied easily through a wide smile. 

“Right,” he snorted, shaking his head. And the look in his eyes was almost… fond. 

As Alastor laid his head against Vox’s chest and the footage started to play, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Vox’s feelings for him hadn’t actually gone away. Could he still be in love with him, after everything that had transpired between them? It seemed unlikely. Not to mention sad. And surely not even Vox was that pitiful.

Chapter Text

Vox didn’t know what he was doing anymore. A week ago, the best thing he could have possibly imagined had happened to him, and now he was overthinking everything and ruining it. Or maybe he’d ruined it from the start. 

He’d thought his feelings for Alastor were long gone. That any love he’d once held for his rival had turned into hatred. That there’d be no greater joy than watching the deer demon suffer as he danced to his tune. But fuck, every time he pushed the envelope, he felt sick. And he was stuck facing the unfortunate reality that he didn’t want to force anything on Alastor - he wanted the Radio Demon to give himself to him willingly. And that was never going to happen. 

If you love something, set it free, people said, but fuck that. This was the only way that Vox was ever going to get to call Alastor his, and he was not giving that up. But fuck, that didn’t stop him from trying to get something real out of it. He started giving him nights off, cause that was kind of like freedom, right? Vox could distract himself with Valentino a few nights a week, no big deal. And that way he was able to get his sexual needs met without relying on Alastor - two birds, one stone. Not that Alastor seemed to actually appreciate anything he was doing for him. But when had the guy ever actually appreciated him? What else was new? Ugh, yeah, he definitely still hated him. He just… might also still be in love with him, too. Which was annoying as hell. 

Vox was starting to crave Alastor’s company again, just like he used to. But then again, had that ever really stopped? It all came down to Alastor’s attention, after all, and he’d certainly never stopped seeking that. It was quite possibly the greatest thing that he had experienced in Hell. He just couldn’t help himself. So, come Friday, when Vox was exhausted from all of the preparations for the launch party that weekend, he decided to indulge in that attention he so coveted. 

“You want me to what?” Alastor demanded incredulously, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You heard me.” Vox smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest, delighted to be able to push the Radio Demon’s buttons in a way that didn’t make him feel sick to his stomach. “Pamper me, spoil me, like the only thing you care about is that I’m satisfied.” Give me every ounce of your delicious attention. “Nothing sexual, just… utter devotion.”  

He tilted his head to the side, smile taking on an almost amused slant. “You want me to worship you like a god,” he accused. 

Fuck yes. “Your words, babe, not mine.” He reclined back against the pillows on his bed, making himself comfortable, and looked at the other demon expectantly, hunger burning in his eyes. 

Alastor rolled his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed beside him. “Very well, darling. Would you like a snack?”

Alastor followed orders shockingly well; feeding him by hand, gently massaging him, making sure he had everything he needed…. Vox vaguely wondered if this was what Heaven must feel like. Alastor’s fervent attention was like a drug, delivering ecstasy directly into Vox’s bloodstream, intoxicating and addicting.

There was only one problem. Alastor had removed his shirt in order to give him a proper massage, and now that Vox was stretched out between Alastor’s legs, leaning back against him as the other demon trailed his claws lightly over his bare chest, it was becoming increasingly harder (literally) to stick to this not being sexual. 

He tried to distract himself by having Alastor tell him a story. And maybe that would have worked, if the asshole hadn’t decided to tell him in graphic detail about one of his murders from his serial killer days. And then the fucker had to go and curl his hand teasingly around Vox’s throat when describing choking the guy out, and fuuuuck. He couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past his lips at that. 

“Something wrong, dear?” Alastor asked innocently, laughter an undercurrent in his voice. 

“No,” he muttered, taking a deep breath as he felt the last of his control slipping. They hadn’t done anything in almost a week, anyway. Was that enough of a break? It wasn’t like Alastor was fucking easy to read. He chewed on his bottom lip as he came to a decision. “Keep going,” he instructed as he slipped a hand into his pants, wrapping it around his cock. 

“Hmm. Aren’t I supposed to be taking care of you tonight?” he chuckled lightly, tracing a finger over the arm that was now disappearing into Vox’s pants. 

Vox squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself twitch in his hand at the implied offer. “I told you I didn’t mean sex,” he reminded him, only slightly breathless. “I’m just… enjoying your story.” 

Alastor let out a faint sigh, and then grabbed Vox by the hips, maneuvering him to sit up more fully. He flailed a bit in surprise. “Al-” But his protest was cut off with a gasp as Alastor pushed down his pants to free his cock, wrapping his own hand around it instead. 

“Now, where was I?” Alastor hummed as Vox sank back into him with a low moan. Well, if he insisted…

Everything was far more gentle than it usually was between them, with Alastor keeping in line with the command to pamper Vox, and not to hurt him. The Radio Demon’s free hand roamed over his torso to touch wherever he described carving into his victim, claws brushing lightly over his skin in illustration. He leaned in so that his lips occasionally brushed against Vox’s neck as he spoke, and his breath ghosted against him, raising goosebumps. And all the while a hand slowly pumped the television demon’s cock. It was enough to drive Vox absolutely crazy. Especially since Alastor was apparently determined to draw it out until he was done with his tale. 

It wasn’t until after he came, got himself cleaned up, and then snuggled back up with Alastor in bed that it fully registered to Vox that this was the first time that he had been an entirely passive participant. He’d barely even touched himself at all. Alastor had done all the work. And he had initiated it. Vox held back a pleased shudder as he wrapped his arm around the deer demon’s waist, pulling himself closer to him.

“You know, I would offer to return the favor, if I thought you at all wanted it.”

“I don’t,” Alastor immediately confirmed what he had already known. The guy wasn’t even hard, and even if he had been, Vox knew that there was still a good chance he wouldn’t have wanted anything. But he still didn’t want to seem like a selfish lover, so he had to at least put it out there. 

He licked his tongue up Alastor’s neck before nipping at his jaw. “So, you were just going above and beyond for no reward, then?” he murmured teasingly. “I told you, you really didn’t have to do that. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” 

Alastor let out a soft breath as his hand came up to caress the back of his screen, occasionally venturing up to his sensitive antennae. “I promised you cooperation, did I not?” 

Vox’s cheeky smile dimmed, his eyes darting away as he stopped his teasing. “Right,” he muttered. Of course it was just about cooperation. What else would it be about?! He let his head drop back to the pillows as he forced himself to not sound as defeated as he suddenly felt. “Well, it’s a busy day tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”

He gave a hum of agreement as he relaxed further into the bed. “Speaking of, what exactly is expected of me at this party?”

“Get there early,” he answered immediately, looking back over at him as the command thrummed through his chain. It wouldn’t do to have Alastor strolling up to the event a few minutes after start time as though he didn’t care to be there. He wanted people to see that he was taking his attendance at Vox’s party seriously. “By twenty minutes, at least. And make a good show of being respectful to me.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes. “And how long will this thing last?” 

“Oh, my parties last till 1 a.m., at least. But you won’t have to stay the whole time,” he added in response to the dread he saw in Alastor’s eyes. “I’ll let you know once you’ve filled your quota and can go.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

Vox would, of course, love to have the Radio Demon on his arm all night long. But that would be too much too fast in the eyes of the public, and they would know something was up. Maybe the next party he threw he would be able to get away with making Alastor be his date, but for now he could settle for him just being in attendance. Who knew that owning Alastor’s soul would be such a lesson in patience?

*

Alastor arrived to Vox’s little product launch fashionably early. The masses were already lined up outside, hopeful to gain entry, while everyone important enough to have received an invitation were being let in. If Alastor had had any doubt that these events were just to stroke Vox’s ego, the hoard of ravenous Sinners outside V Tower would definitely have removed it. 

He ignored the whispers from the crowd as he approached the front of the tower. The doorman took one look at him, then hastily opened the door, bowing his head respectfully. Well, at least some of Vox’s employees had common sense. 

There were already several people milling about the lobby of V Tower - mostly Overlords and other notable figures of Hell, along with waitstaff carrying trays of champagne. Alastor plucked a flute from a passing imp waiter and retreated to a corner of the room where he could observe without being bothered. That worked out for him for approximately fifteen minutes before Rosie arrived and made a beeline straight for him.

Alastor tensed as the other Overlord glided over to stand next to him. He had been avoiding her all week, ever since Vox’s little stunt at the last Overlord meeting, and he knew she wouldn’t be pleased with him. He sighed, resigning himself to being chewed out by, frankly, the only person in Hell who could get away with doing so. 

“Alastor, fancy seeing you here,” Rosie began, a sharpness underlying her polite words. “And here I thought you must be completely bedridden!” 

“My apologies, Rosie.” He inclined his head with some chagrin. “I’ve just been busy.” 

“Poppycock. You’ve been deliberately avoiding me because you don’t want to admit that you’re in over your head in something.” She turned to face him fully, her expression stern. “Now, do you want to tell me why exactly you are letting Vox push you around?”

Alastor threw back his head in a laugh to cover up his discomfort, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, please, my dear! Vox wishes he could push me around! I’m merely playing along for my own amusement.” 

She sighed and her expression softened as she reached out to place a hand gently on his arm. “You may be able to convince others with that excuse, but you should know better than to think it’ll work on me. I saw your face in that meeting. Now, you did a fine job of covering it up, but I’ve known you since you arrived in Hell, and I can tell when you’re in distress. I just don’t understand what threat he could have raised against you that would make you fold like that.” 

Alastor suppressed a grimace as he placed his hand over Rosie’s. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Now, don’t you tell me what to concern myself with. I’ll concern myself with whatever I see fit.” She pulled her hand away from him, placing both hands on her hips stubbornly. “And if you’re in some kind of trouble, you don’t have to suffer alone. Vox doesn’t scare me. So, let me help you.” 

His smile became a touch more genuine, even as he shook his head. “There is no one that I would rather have in my corner, but I assure you, it is not necessary. I am not worried about Vox, and nor should you be!” 

Rosie sighed. “Well, whenever you do decide to talk, I’ll be here.” 

“I would expect nothing less,” he assured with a fond grin. 

The fact of the matter was that even apart from the fact that he did not want to reveal to anyone - even someone as trusted as Rosie - the chain around his neck, he also quite frankly didn’t quite know how to describe his situation, at the moment. Vox had been acting rather odd this past week. He’d taken to texting Alastor, telling him that he didn’t need to come over that night, and even the nights that he did have him over, everything was kept rather… tame. He hadn’t demanded more than light kisses and cuddles since the day of the Overlord meeting. In fact, the only overtly sexual thing that they had done recently had been what Alastor had initiated the previous night. 

Which… that was another mystery. He honestly didn’t know why exactly he’d done that. Vox’s reactions to him had just been so amusing, and it was such a delight to be able to control how the television demon received pleasure, on his terms, drawing it out as he saw fit. So, Alastor had taken matters into his own hands - literally. He may not have received any sexual gratification from the act himself, but that wasn’t to say he hadn’t enjoyed it in his own way. But why had Vox been so insistent against something he’d clearly wanted? What had changed? 

The only thing he could think of that could have possibly led to this change was him telling Vox that he wasn’t attracted to him. It was one of the last things that had occurred before Vox’s little one-eighty, after all. But if that was the case, the vain picture box really needed to just get over himself. 

Speaking of Vox… Alastor’s eyes were drawn to the side of the room as a small group of people made their entrance to an onslaught of cameras flashing.

The Vees paused to pose for the cameras - Vox flanked by Velvette and Valentino on either side of him. And that disgusting moth demon was practically draped over Vox, multiple arms wrapped around him, caressing his side. Alastor felt his eye twitch as Valentino drew him into a sloppy kiss and he could feel his claws cutting into his palms, his fists were clenched so tightly. 

Rosie cleared her throat. “Mind your temper, Alastor,” she warned, eyes darting up to the antlers that Alastor now realized were spreading over his head, and then back to his face. She raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to worry about, hm?” 

Alastor grit his teeth as he reigned in his disgust at the vulgar display. Just in time, too, as Vox’s eyes scanned the crowd until they came to rest on him. His smile spread wider across his screen and he maneuvered his way around the reporters, heading straight for the corner Alastor had hidden away in. Velvette split off in her own direction, but quite unfortunately, it seemed as though Valentino was glued to the television demon’s hip. 

“Alastor!” Vox greeted jovially as he approached him, extending a hand. “So glad you could make it!”

“How could I miss this?” he replied through a tight smile, trying to ignore the greedy hands that were still roaming over Vox as he shook his hand.

Vox just laughed, giving his hand a light squeeze before releasing it. 

“Yes, so good to see you, Alastor,” Valentino sneered. “It’s been a while.”

Alastor’s smile sharpened as he turned it on him. “Not long enough.”

Vox appeared not to hear either of them, his eyes dragging over Alastor’s body, lingering on his distinctly un-tattered coat. “You look nice.”

His smile inched up higher as he turned back to him. “I don’t make it a habit to go about looking uncouth.”

He let out a light chuckle. “No, but… is that a new coat?”

He had, indeed, gotten a new coat for the evening. It was much the same as his usual one, just not as worn and tattered. He had paired it with a black shirt and slacks, for a change, and a matching bowtie. His shirt bore his normal cross detailing, though in red, instead of black.

Vox had also somewhat changed up his look for the occasion. He’d opted for a plain red vest with matching bowtie, and a black undershirt. His coat looked much like his usual one, but its lapels were deeper and without the red outline. The garment was buttoned at his waist, drawing a deep V over the vest.

“Perhaps,” Alastor hedged before he raised an eyebrow and hinged at the waist to lean in closer. “Keeping inventory of my wardrobe now, are you?”

“Please,” Vox scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He gave Alastor one last once-over before redirecting his attention to the woman beside him. “It’s good to see you too, Rosie. Thank you for coming.” 

“Hmph.” Rosie looked at him through a narrowed gaze. “I’m only here for Alastor.”

His smile only wavered slightly. “Well, I’m still glad you could make it, regardless. Enjoy yourselves! And Al-” He paused in the act of turning away, looking back at the Radio Demon. “Save me a dance,” he commanded with a wink. 

Alastor rolled his eyes, unphased by the order. He had expected something of the sort, really. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, inclining his head to him in acquiescence. 

Vox’s grin widened just slightly as he turned and walked off to greet the other important guests, an almost adorable bounce to his step. Valentino went with him, still clung to his side; though he shot a scowl over his shoulder at the Radio Demon, who readily responded with a narrow-eyed glare of his own. What he wouldn’t give to rip off every one of the cretin’s arms.  

Rosie rounded on him the moment the two Vees were out of earshot. “Alright, mister, what was that?” she demanded, enunciating each word.

“What was what?” Alastor asked innocently.

“You just agreed to a dance with Vox, and now you look as though you’re barely holding yourself back from going on a rampage. Just what is he holding over you?”

“Rosie, I told you -” he began firmly, but Rosie cut him off. 

“No. That television has clearly said or done something to back you into a corner, and I am not going to stand for it. Mephistopheles’s souls, or not.”

He grimaced, eyes darting away from her. This was exactly why he had been avoiding her this past week. Rosie, for all her delightfulness, did not let things go. “Things are complicated,” he finally admitted quietly, eyes on the far wall. “I do not wish to discuss it here.” 

Rosie pursed her lips, exhaling through her nose as she turned away. “Fine. But we will revisit this.”

Of course they would. But Alastor intended to put that conversation off for as long as possible. And for now, at least, he could enjoy the reprieve. 

“And if you would like me to monopolize your time to get you out of that dance, just say the word,” Rosie added. “But I won’t say anything more about it tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you, nonetheless,” he assured with a genuinely warm smile. 

As promised, Rosie let it slide, and the two fell into their usual, idle gossip until Vox began his presentation of his latest unnecessary and ostentatious piece of technology. Alastor mostly tuned it all out. 

When Vox finally wrapped up his showcase, he opened up a station for people to try out his augmented reality doodad, and there was a mad dash to line up. The rest of the attendees with more sense remained scattered around the edges of the room, some venturing out onto the dance floor, and others taking advantage of the now much shorter lines at the food stations. 

Alastor and Rosie did the latter, and they were both surprised and delighted to discover actual finger sandwiches among the hors d’oeuvres. It was a rarity to find such offerings at any event outside of Cannibal Town, and Alastor was almost certain that Vox had included them on the menu specifically for his enjoyment. It was quite thoughtful, really. 

“They’re of course not as good as anything you serve,” Alastor remarked joyfully after taking a bite. “But it is refreshing to have the option!” 

“It is,” Rosie agreed slowly, studying the currently quite genuine smile on her friend’s face. “I do wonder what compelled Vox to order it.”

“It’s a mystery!” He waved a hand carelessly, even as his smile grew wider. 

“Hmm.”

There was a crackle of electricity to Alastor’s left, immediately followed by, “Enjoying the food?”

“It is a surprisingly decent selection,” he admitted, turning to acknowledge Vox, who had mercifully left his disgusting partner elsewhere. He popped the rest of the finger sandwich into his mouth, then ran his tongue over his teeth to lick off the excess. Vox watched him unabashedly, and the Radio Demon’s smirk grew. 

“So, about that dance…”

Alastor’s mouth curled with amusement as he raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Am I to be your first dance of the evening?” he teased. “Aren’t I special?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver as he held out his hand to him. “Come on.” 

“Please excuse me, Rosie,” he addressed the other cannibal over his shoulder as he took Vox’s hand. “It appears I am required elsewhere.” 

Rosie’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as she regarded their clasped hands with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll be here when you’re finished.” Her eyes flickered up to meet Alastor’s but he quickly looked away from her prying gaze, allowing Vox to lead him out onto the dance floor. 

The song was a slower number than Alastor generally preferred to dance to, but it did allow them the chance to talk as they moved across the floor in a pseudo-waltz, the other attendees giving them a wide berth. 

“The finger sandwiches were sweet,” Alastor commented slyly.

Vox’s smile spread over his screen. “Yeah? You liked them?”

He gave a noncommittal hum, unwilling to give too much praise.

“It’s not one of the caterer’s normal offerings, but I insisted they add it to the menu,” he continued, unphased by Alastor’s lack of response. “Said they could either supply the fingers from elsewhere, or I’d take them from their staff when they got here!” 

Alastor threw back his head in a laugh. “Oh, but that would have made this party far more entertaining!”

“Shut up, this party’s great,” he snapped back, but his tone was still light-hearted. “You’re just jealous you could never get a turnout like this in a million years.” 

“Please, as if I care about that!” he scoffed. “These ‘fans’ of yours are entirely superficial! They only care about the next, shiny thing you can offer them. They don’t actually respect you!”  

Vox actually bristled at that. “They do, too! I’m the most powerful person in this room, and everyone knows it!”

“Ah. But do they care?”  

He grit his teeth, eyes darting away from him. “Play nice,” he hissed. 

Alastor blinked in surprise, rearing back slightly at the sudden order. “I was.”  

Vox looked at him in disbelief for a moment before he shook his head with a faint scoff. “Well, newsflash, you saying no one fucking gives a shit about me? Not nice.”

That… was not what he’d been saying at all. He’d merely been playfully mocking Vox for the adoring fans that he quite ridiculously cared so much about. It was no different, really, than Vox mocking how his preference to inspire fear in people gained him a very different kind of following that would never dare get too close to him. But Alastor had begun to realize lately that Vox may have always prescribed deeper meaning to his words, and it wasn’t worth arguing about it. The television demon would likely find some other way to feel insulted, anyway. 

Alastor sighed and looked away from him, noticing for the first time just how many eyes were on them. He decided to change the subject; since he certainly wasn’t going to apologize, especially when he had done nothing wrong. “We seem to be causing quite the spectacle,” he murmured; though given their very public rivalry, that was hardly surprising.

“That’s the idea.” Vox gave a small shrug before spinning Alastor and reeling him back in. He wasn’t as upbeat as he had been when he pulled Alastor onto the dance floor, but he seemed willing enough to let the perceived insults go. “You doing that ad for me got a lot of people talking. Velvette said that if we danced together tonight, people would go crazy over it.”

Ah. Of course this was all about publicity. Vox would undoubtedly be dancing with Valentino right now, if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to cause such a stir. Alastor wasn’t quite sure why the thought tasted so bitter. “I see.” 

Vox’s eyes narrowed at his cool tone. “You’re gonna have to get used to being seen with me, Bambi, cause this won’t be the last of it. I promise you.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he replied crisply, his eyes fixed past Vox’s head. “I suppose I must make a good prop,” he added under his breath. 

The hand on Alastor’s waist squeezed slightly as something akin to chagrin passed over Vox’s face, almost too quick to notice. “That’s not - I mean…” He cleared his throat. “You’re not a prop,” he muttered, not quite looking at him. “I… want you here.”

Alastor arched an eyebrow at him, even as he felt his shoulders relax slightly. “Still craving my company after all these years?” he teased, keeping his voice pitched low. 

A faint, staticky blush appeared on Vox’s screen. “Don’t let it go to your head, asshole.” 

“Would I?” He batted his eyelashes innocently. “I am nothing if not humble!”

Vox finally let out an actually genuine laugh. “Oh, yeah. The face of humility, you are.” He drew Alastor into a dip as the song drew to a close, his eyes once again roaming greedily over his body. “Damn. I just love that you dressed up for me,” he murmured as he righted him, his hands lingering on him as the last notes of the melody died out. 

“It’s a formal event, Vox. Don’t let it go to your head,” he mimicked with a wink. “You look quite dashing, too, I must say,” he added as an afterthought. 

Vox’s eyes grew slightly wider, his screen brightening just a touch. “You mean that?” 

“I don’t make a habit of saying things I don’t mean,” he reminded him with a roll of his eyes. Perhaps it truly was his admission of not finding Vox attractive that had caused the change in him this past week, after all. In which case, maybe the compliment would… well, not that Alastor particularly cared, of course, but things had been simpler, he didn’t have to think as much when their encounters were just about Vox’s sexual gratification. Even if he was still conflicted about enjoying such things, himself. 

“Thanks.” Vox grinned, and he gave his waist a squeeze before dropping his hands. “Well, thanks for the dance. You’re free for the evening.”

Alastor didn’t move, raising his eyebrows in surprise at being dismissed so soon into the event. “What’s wrong, Vox? Afraid you can’t keep up with me in a real dance?”

The television demon blinked in surprise as Alastor intercepted the signal of the music, switching the song that was just starting up into an upbeat jazz number. He held out a hand to the other demon, his eyes sparkling with a challenge, and an excited smile flashed over Vox’s face as he took Alastor’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled into another dance. 

It had been a while since he’d properly danced with Vox. He always had been an ideal dance partner, in many ways; their ability to pick up on each other’s signals aiding in their ability to effortlessly flow together. Alastor had almost forgotten that he’d ever tapped into Vox’s frequency for anything other than anticipating his moves in a fight. It was a surprisingly comfortable return to form. 

As the song ended, Alastor was considering selecting the next song as well, but then an arm slunk around Vox’s shoulders as Valentino sidled up to them, and all of Alastor’s enjoyment instantly died away. “I think it’s my turn, Voxxy,” he purred petulantly. 

Alastor glared up at the moth demon and briefly considered if it would be against any existing orders to kill Valentino then and there. 

“Yeah, sure, Val,” Vox chuckled patiently, dropping his hands from the Radio Demon in favor of winding one around Valentino’s waist. “I’m all yours for the rest of the night. Promise.”

Alastor wasn’t prepared for the wave of pure fury that crashed over him in that moment. How dare Vox allow Valentino to think he could simply lay claim to him. Vox had already admitted that he didn’t submit to anyone else to the same extent he did with Alastor. Surely that meant that no one else held the same power over him that he did. Not even the likes of Valentino. Vox was his. And the moth demon was sorely mistaken if he thought he could ever truly have such a hold over him. 

But even knowing that, Alastor was still seeing red (even more so than was usual in Hell) when he turned and stalked away without saying another word. His eyes were fixed on the front door, intending to simply leave. Vox had dismissed him, after all, and he had absolutely no desire to see the two of them dance together. Before he could reach the door, though, Rosie grabbed him by the arm and steered him in a different direction. 

“Let’s get some air,” she suggested firmly, not giving him any room to argue as she navigated him to the glass door leading to the side patio. It was vacant, at the moment, with most guests still lined up to demo the new VoxTek product. 

Alastor’s hand curled around the back of one of the chairs there, paying no mind to the way his claws shredded the fabric. His smile was rigid, his teeth feeling too large for his mouth, and his breath was coming heavier than was usual. He had never liked Valentino, had always found him particularly repulsive, but he had never wanted to tear him apart quite as much as he did in that moment.

“Would you mind giving us some privacy, dearie?” Rosie asked softly. She knew as well as Alastor that just because they didn’t see anyone else on the patio, it did not mean that it was impossible for them to be overheard. Wordlessly, Alastor conjured his shadows around them, shrouding and muffling them from any nearby demons or cameras, both. “Thank you. Now, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

He hesitated. He was having trouble following his own thoughts, at the moment. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly put them into words for someone else. “It’s unimportant,” he said in a clipped voice, glaring off into the distance. 

“You’re jealous,” she accused bluntly. 

Alastor went rigid, more fabric ripping beneath his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rosie!” he protested, his voice bordering on deranged. “Of course I’m not jealous! I have no need to be! I can have Vox any way I want him, drive him to begging with so little effort it’s laughable!” His unoccupied hand rose to his head, tugging viciously at his hair as he laughed hysterically at the very notion.

He couldn’t be jealous. He simply didn’t understand why Vox would waste his time with someone such as Valentino, when he now had Alastor as an option. The Radio Demon was clearly the superior choice in every way, and yet he would wager that Vox had been with Valentino every night he’d told him not to come over this past week. Choosing him over Alastor. Letting him touch him in ways that only he should… oh, fuck.  

His eyes blew wide with shock, his smile becoming painfully strained. He whirled around, able to see through his shadows and the glass into the lobby. To see Vox and Valentino dancing together in a manner that was far more sexual than Alastor felt a dance should be. And especially when it involved someone else touching what should be his.  

And Vox should be his. The way that he acted around him, his reactions to him, sent what Alastor thought to be a pretty clear message that he was. But now facing the possibility that that perhaps wasn’t as true as he had thought, Alastor realized how much he wanted it to be the case. And perhaps it was only natural - he belonged to Vox, and so he wanted things evened out between them by having Vox belong to him, as well. Except it went deeper than that. Deeper than merely evening the score. He just wanted Vox. His time, his attention, him. He wanted it all.

That was… alarming, both the realization itself and the intensity at which he felt it. Enough so that Alastor was able to put his reservations aside, for the moment. 

“Hypothetically speaking,” he murmured, his eyes still fixed on Vox. “Do you think it would be possible for someone to fundamentally change another through holding their soul contract? Make them enjoy things, want things, they normally would not?”

Rosie sucked in a sharp breath. “No,” she answered after a moment. “A soul contract doesn’t hold that kind of power. Vox’s hypnotism perhaps could, though.”

He shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the dancing demons as he turned to face Rosie. “No.” Vox hadn’t hypnotized him. Of that much, he was confident. 

“Then I’m afraid that whatever you’re feeling is all you,” she said gently.

Alastor grimaced, but it was the answer he had expected. He gave a single, sharp nod, eyes darting away again. 

“That does fill in some blanks,” Rosie continued a moment later. “I’m going to assume Mephistopheles is who you sold your soul to, and not Vox.”

He scoffed. “Obviously.”

She nodded, her expression sympathetic, and she reached out to give his hand an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you for trusting me.”

He waved off her thanks. “I trust you as much as I trust myself! It’s simply not the kind of thing I like to bring up.”

“Understandably so. And Vox?” she pressed gently, dropping his hand. “What sort of things are you feeling for him?”

The very question made Alastor’s skin crawl, the way it seemed to imply something that was definitely not the case. “He used to be in love with me,” he answered instead. “At least, according to an old, half-written confession I found.”

“Yes, dear,” Rosie nodded, as though he had stated a fact as simple as ‘the sky is red’. “Not many would be surprised to learn that, given the way he was around you, back in the day.”

He shook off his surprise at that, plowing onward. “I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. After all that transpired between us, I find it doubtful that it is still the case, and yet… I think I want it to be,” he made the realization a moment before he spoke it aloud, staring at the torn chair in disbelief. “I don’t feel anything of the sort for him, of course; rather, I think I just like the idea of him being so devoted to me. I already find the way he can get around me to be quite delightful! But I find myself wanting more. For him to be mine. Completely. I want to hold his heart in my hand literally and figuratively.” Vox may own his body and soul, but if he could own his heart…

“That is quite poetic,” she complimented, but then pressed on sternly. “But that’s how you feel about his feelings. Now, how do you feel about him?”

Alastor sighed. That was… more complicated, still. “I suppose I… enjoy his company, at times. I don’t mind sharing space with him, being closer than I would normally allow with the average demon. I might even go so far as to say that I like it. Occasionally, things feel like they used to, when we were friends. Only with much different pastimes that I was certain I would loathe when he first ordered it, but I don’t.” He shook his head, his expression slowly becoming manic again as he was forced to realize how far gone he truly was. 

Rosie’s eyes flashed. “And what exactly has he made you do, Alastor?” she demanded sharply with a sudden fierceness that hinted at how dangerous an Overlord she really was.

“Oh, he has made me do very little, actually!” he corrected with a crazed laugh. “That’s part of the problem. He has hardly ordered me to do more than kiss him, if I’m unwilling. Every other escalation I’ve at the very least allowed.” Or worse, escalated things himself. 

“It sounds to me as though you’ve allowed it because you know you don’t have a choice. That doesn’t excuse anything.”

The part of his mind that was still functioning logically recognized the truth of her words, but it didn’t help. It didn’t change anything. Alastor didn’t care how questionable whatever consent he had given was. Because willing or not, it had had the same end result, as far as he was concerned. Even if it hadn’t been his choice in the beginning, he had still found himself surrendering to carnal desires that he had once thought himself to be above. Had found himself enjoying it. Perhaps even wanting more.

“And why do I like it, then?!” he spun on her desperately. “Why, now he’s telling me not to, am I the one initiating-” He quickly snapped his mouth shut, forcing himself to breathe deeply and get a better handle on his escalating emotions, while Rosie watched him with wide eyes, mouth open in a faint ‘O’. 

“Apologies, Rosie dear, this conversation is not proper at all!” Alastor continued once he had regained his composure, looking away ashamedly. “The crux of the matter is that he’s now choosing to spend his time with Valentino, and I find myself rather put out over it! Which is, of course, absolutely ridiculous. I should be appreciative of having more time to myself. But I suppose I am, as you so aptly put it, jealous.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “I see. And what exactly occurred before this change in Vox?”

“I’ve been going over it all week,” he complained. “And all I can come up with is that he asked me if I found him attractive, to which I responded with an honest ‘no’.”

“Of course you did,” she replied with a fond smile. 

He blinked. “Well, it’s not as though he’s not perfectly pleasant to look at!” he felt the need to clarify. “I’m simply not attracted to him. I even told him that I’ve never found anyone particularly attractive, but I suppose he still got all offended! Typical of him, really.”

“Is he acting upset?” Rosie asked curiously. 

“Not at all. Which just makes it all even more confusing! He’s simply started canceling on me, and when we are together, not initiating more than a simple kiss.”

Her lips curved up in a small smirk. “Well, it sounds to me like the boy finally decided to develop some sort of conscience. Better late than never, I suppose. And I would bet my right leg that he is still in love with you, dear.” 

Alastor’s smile flattened out, his eyebrows furrowing as he considered that. “How can you be so sure?” 

“Simply put, the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. And that boy couldn’t be further from being indifferent towards you. He may have concealed his feelings with hatred all these years because it was easier, but now that he no longer needs to hide behind that mask, his true feelings are coming through. It was awful thoughtful of him, making sure there was food you’d enjoy tonight,” she added pointedly. 

“Hm, it was,” he agreed, his smile growing again as he recalled their previous conversation. “Apparently, he threatened the caterer to add it to the menu.”

“Well, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Alastor let out a low chuckle as he turned away to look off into the distance thoughtfully. Rosie was, generally speaking, a much better judge of these sorts of things than he was. He could probably trust her judgment. But then what exactly did he do with that information?

Rosie rested her hand gently against his bicep. “You should talk to him. Be honest about wanting more. He might be more receptive to the idea than you think.”

He pressed his lips together, immediately opposed to the idea, but then his gaze was drawn back to the tower, to Vox in Valentino’s arms. If it meant never having to see that again… “Perhaps you’re right.”

Chapter Text

Alastor paced through Vox’s room, the sounds of the party below him too distant for even his advanced hearing to pick up on. He should be back at the hotel by now, but he knew that if he didn’t do this tonight, he wouldn’t do it at all. He didn’t even want to do it now, but the image of Vox dancing with and kissing Valentino was still fresh in his mind, driving him to action. Because how dare that miserable cretin touch what was his; how dare Vox let him.  

As he pivoted, his eyes landed on a picture that sat on Vox’s desk, featuring the television demon shaking hands with Valentino. He snarled and snatched it up, hurling it at the wall, where the glass shattered on impact. The broken pieces fell to the ground, the brightly colored photo floating down… along with a couple of smaller, less vibrant scraps.

Alastor paused, staring down at the mess he’d made before carefully stepping forward, his eyebrows furrowing. It appeared that the picture of Vox and Valentino had been placed in front of another in the frame, covering up what used to be there. The other picture was less saturated, and it had been torn in two, one half of it with an additional slice through the center and looking more worn around the edges, as though it had been handled at some point before being returned to the frame. Alastor’s eyes carelessly flicked over the picture of himself before landing on the other half of the photograph. The half featuring the man that had been standing beside him in the picture. The half featuring Vox. 

He bent over to pick it up, running his thumb over the outline of that old, boxy head. Vox had been such an insignificant demon when he’d met him, and he should have stayed that way. Should have stayed as nothing more than a blip in Alastor’s existence. How had everything spiraled so out of control? Not for the first time, he wondered if he had made a mistake approaching Vox in the first place, but he had been oh so intriguing…

Alastor’s ears perked up as the tell-tale sounds of a fight echoed from the next alley over. Certainly not an uncommon occurrence in Hell, but it always tickled his curiosity, if only for a moment. 

“I’m telling you, fuck off,” a staticky voice shouted, fear barely concealed beneath the surface. “I’ll take you all out! I mean it!”

There was only laughter in response, followed by the sounds of scuffling and grunts of pain. And something about that voice, it drew Alastor in, and more than that, he could feel a frequency not so dissimilar from his own calling to him. Before he could come to any conscious decision, the Radio Demon found himself emerging into the shadows of the neighboring alleyway, regarding the scene before him. 

The source of the voice proved to be a rather unusual-looking demon with a… was that a picture box for a head? How novel! He was surrounded by three much more unremarkable demons that appeared to be closing in on him, and a fourth laid unconscious on the ground, appearing slightly singed.

As Alastor watched, one of the demons dove forward, brandishing a knife, and the picture box desperately grabbed at his arm, barely stopping him from plunging the weapon into his… well, Alastor was going to assume he had flesh. Blue electricity sparked around his claws and the other demon’s hand convulsed, dropping the knife, only for it to be caught by the picture box and immediately turned against its former wielder. 

“I told you-” the picture box started to growl, but it turned into a shout of pain as one of the other demons leapt onto his back. He released his other attacker in order to throw himself backwards, attempting to crush his assailant against the brick wall behind him.

The third would-be attacker made to move to assist his friends, but before he could make it more than a step, a black tentacle ensnared him, pulling him back into the shadows with a broken scream. Alastor laughed as he tore into his throat, and then flung his head and body away in opposite directions before stepping out into the alley proper. 

The one who had lost his knife had spun around, eyes wide with horror as he watched his friend be dragged away and ripped apart. Alastor met his eyes with a wide smile, and he gasped out a terror-stricken “Shit!” before turning to flee.

He didn’t make it far. The Radio Demon’s form grew, his elongated arm extending until he could clasp a single claw around the coward, who vainly struggled in his grasp. He allowed him to dangle in the air for a moment, his own laughter never ceasing, and then he opened his mouth wide and dropped the demon into his eager maw. 

By the time Alastor shrank back down to his normal size and turned back to the others, the picture box had managed to get his last remaining attacker off his back and had stabbed him in the chest several times over, a fine spray of blood now accenting his boxy head and no-doubt staining his yellow sweater. 

Alastor clapped his hands together, grinning in absolute delight at the impromptu bloodshed. “An impressive showing, my good fellow!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. 

The picture box spun to face him, digital eyes wide, and stolen knife held between them like a shield. “Stay back!” 

His smile only widened as he tilted his head to the side curiously. “Now, is that any way to thank me? You may have done a fine job handling yourself, but I rather doubt you could have taken them all on your own.”

His eyes darted to what remained of Alastor’s first victim, and then around the rest of the alley, searching. “What happened to the other guy?” 

“I ate him,” Alastor stated brightly. 

The picture box’s eyes flew wide, but he quickly took a deep breath, calming himself as he slowly pivoted to be able to back up the alleyway, away from the other demon, still holding the knife between them. “Right…. Look, I don’t want any trouble. So, I'm just gonna go, and you can leave me be, okay?” His voice was surprisingly steady for all the fear that he obviously felt. It would almost be impressive, if it weren’t for the fact that his hand was shaking so much. 

“I certainly can, I suppose.” He waved his hands causally as he spoke. “But where’s the fun in that? And after I went through all the effort of saving you!” Alastor disappeared into his shadow and reemerged directly behind the picture box, immediately reaching around him to pluck the knife out of his hand before he had a chance to react. 

He jumped and whirled around, his screen now clearly broadcasting his panic. “What do you want?” he demanded. He attempted to scramble back, but Alastor matched him step-for-step, only keeping a couple feet of distance between them, reveling in the fear he was inspiring in the other demon. 

“Why don’t we start with a name?” he suggested casually. 

That finally brought him up short. He paused, eyeing Alastor suspiciously. “Why? Who the fuck are you, anyway? Why should I trust you?”

“I never said you should!” Alastor laughed. “You would be wise not to trust anyone down here. How long ago did you die, anyway? I do believe I would recall having seen someone quite like you before.”

The picture box hesitated, chewing on his… lip? Did he technically have lips? What an interesting anatomy! “A week ago,” he finally muttered reluctantly, and Alastor’s eyes grew wide. 

“Oh dear, fresh off the press, you are! I’m surprised you were able to handle those four as well as you did, a soul as young as you. Hmm, I think I’ll call you Vox,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

Vox blinked. “What?”

“Vox. It’s Latin for voice, and yours is quite the unique one!”

“No, I know what it means,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “But did you just fucking name me like I’m your pet?”  

“Well, you seemed reluctant to tell me your name, and I have to call you something.” Alastor shrugged and then extended his hand. “Speaking of, my name is Alastor, by the way. Though most refer to me as the Radio Demon.”

Vox froze, the image of his mouth falling open slightly. Oh, good. He had heard of him. Alastor smirked, waiting for another attempt at running away, or perhaps even groveling, if he was lucky. But instead something unusual happened. A smile spread over the picture box’s face, and a faint laugh spilled out of him, his shoulders relaxing as he clasped the offered hand and gave it a steady shake. 

“Well. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” He eyed him thoughtfully as he dropped his hand. “Can I ask why you decided to help me?” 

“I was bored,” Alastor answered slowly, his eyes not leaving the other’s screen, absolutely intrigued by that response. He leaned forward, well into Vox’s personal space, and this time the other demon did not back away. “You were positively quivering in fear mere moments ago. Why are you suddenly so calm, now?” 

He shrugged casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Because I know who you are. You kill fucking Overlords . And me? I’m nobody. Definitely not worth your time. So, the way I figure it, if you were going to kill me, you would have done it already. Swatted me like a fly. You wouldn’t be standing here, wasting your time toying with me.” 

He blinked slowly. That was exactly right, of course, but… “You’re a lot smarter than you look, Vox,” he said as he straightened, his smile turning thoughtful. It wasn’t often that something surprised the Radio Demon, anymore. How refreshing! 

Vox raised an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks? I think?” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You know, I think I like ‘Vox’. I might just stick with that. Don’t need to pay you royalties, do I?” he joked with a grin.

Alastor threw back his head with a genuine laugh. “No, I suppose I can let you have it. This enchanting exchange has been payment enough.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flickered over the other demon briefly, and then he bit his lip as he took a step closer, even leaned in slightly, and wasn’t that different. Alastor wasn’t used to anyone trying to be closer to him. “Sure there’s nothing else I can do to repay you? You did just save my life, after all.” 

As delightful as the novelty was, Alastor did still value his space. He placed a hand on Vox’s chest, gently pushing him back. “Just do try not to get yourself killed. You’re far too amusing, and I’d hate to see your potential go to waste.”

Surprise flickered over Vox’s face as the other demon dropped his hand and turned away. “Wait, are you just… leaving?” He sounded astoundingly disappointed. 

Alastor glanced over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, my friend.” And with that, he vanished into the shadows, feeling invigorated and thinking that he just might have to keep an eye on this one. 

Alastor sighed as he slid the picture into his pocket. He’d never understood how some demons could become so enamored with Vox and the lackluster entertainment he put out, and yet here he was. Intrigued by him from the start, and now he was even jealous over him. It was ridiculous and laughable, but somehow, that didn’t stop it from being true. 

His hand slipped from the picture to the watch in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check the time. It was only eleven o’clock; the party would still be going for a while yet. He sighed and decided he could at least make himself comfortable. 

He hung up his coat and changed into a pair of Vox’s lounge pants, which he had gotten quite accustomed to sleeping in. Then, after a second’s thought, he materialized a tentacle to sweep the glass and broken frame into a corner of the room, accidentally impaling the picture of Valentino in the process. 

With the mess cleaned up, Alastor climbed into bed, deciding he could at least rest while he waited for Vox to get back. 

*

Vox carefully and quietly slipped out of Valentino’s room without waking him the next morning. That would cause a fight later, he was sure - Val hated it when he snuck out in the morning without saying anything. But, those rare times that Vox did wake him before leaving, his partner always tried to get something out of him, and he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with that today. It was seven in the morning, and it was honestly laughable how little sleep he’d gotten, but he would like to be able to wash off the night of debauchery before rolling up to his morning meetings. 

He scrubbed at his screen as he made his way down the hall and then stepped into his bedroom. As he turned to shut the door behind him, though, he paused upon seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. It was Alastor’s coat, hanging on the rack. 

He blinked at it in half-asleep uncomprehension for a moment before he slowly turned to the rest of the room, instantly alert as his eyes locked onto the bed. On Alastor beneath the covers, curled up on his side. What…?

Vox was pulled forward as if by a magnet and he stopped at the edge of the bed, staring down at the deer demon. His back was to him, but he could tell from his breathing that he was asleep, one bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the blue duvet. What in the unholy hell was he doing there? Vox had told him he could leave after he dismissed him from the party. Surely he hadn’t thought that he still had to come to his room at the usual time. And yet here he was… his slight body practically beckoning Vox to take him into his arms.

His first meeting of the day was in just over an hour, and Vox had other things he wanted to get in line before it, but… fuck it. Alastor just looked too damn inviting, all curled up in his bed like that. 

He sent off a message to his assistant to cancel his morning meetings, then set his phone down on his nightstand and crawled into bed. A quick peek under the covers revealed that Alastor had changed into a pair of blue lounge pants with the VoxTek logo on the hip, and fuck, Vox didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing the Radio Demon in his clothes. 

He sidled up behind him, pressing up against his back as he wrapped an arm around his waist to splay his hand over his chest. How was it that Vox had been doing all manner of unspeakable things with Valentino mere hours ago, and yet this seemed to affect him so much more, setting his nerves alight as he barely held himself back from crushing Alastor against him in a full-body shudder. 

But that was just Alastor. He made him so fucking insane, and it wasn’t fair. His presence was intoxicating, and it was almost painful how much Vox wanted him. Dancing with him last night had been like reliving a piece of their past, and Vox stubbornly told himself that he didn’t want to go back to that because he was so much more now, but dammit if he didn’t want to bring that piece into the present. 

Except, it was more complicated even than that. He wanted what they’d had, sure, but he also reveled in the idea of their roles being reversed - of Alastor being the one needing to prove himself to Vox, for a change . He wanted his friend back, but he also wanted to put him in his place beneath him. He wanted to control all of Hell with Alastor at his side, but he also wanted to prove that he was superior to the Radio Demon in every way. It was a paradox, and Vox knew full well that he’d been spending far too much of his time obsessing over how to handle his favorite soul, when he should be making strides with his new power. Fuck, right now he was supposed to be working, but his impulsive ass hadn’t thought twice before taking the morning off to fucking cuddle. He was supposed to be taking over Pride, dammit!

Vox let his screen tilt forward to rest against Alastor’s shoulder and he breathed him in before pressing his lips to his skin. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decisions when he held the Radio Demon in his arms like this.

Alastor stirred, his hand brushing over the hand pressed against his torso. “Vox?” he murmured sleepily, and hearing his name like that from those lips was just music to his ears. “What time is it?” 

“A little after seven,” he answered softly, placing another light kiss to his shoulder. “You can go back to sleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Much to Vox’s disappointment, though, Alastor rolled onto his back, looking at him beneath a furrowed brow, eyes darting down to take in the fact that he was still wearing his shirt and pants from the previous night. “Are you only now coming to bed? Just how late did that party go?”

Vox laughed as he propped himself up on his elbow, keeping his other hand resting lightly on Alastor’s chest. “No, it wrapped up by two. I slept in Val’s room. Which… probably a good thing,  we went with his room. If he saw you here, he would have a lot of questions.” Maybe he should make it a policy to check his cameras before bringing Valentino back to his room. At least on nights like last night, when he’d been too preoccupied with the party to keep up with any alerts he might have received. But how could he have known that Alastor might spontaneously decide to sleep in his bed?

Vox paused, trying to scan Alastor’s face for some kind of answer as to what he was doing there, but the other demon had turned his head completely away from him, and he couldn’t see anything past his hair. He had pulled his hand away from Vox’s, though, both of his hands now twisted in the blankets. “Oh? You still haven’t told him about me, I take it?” he murmured, his voice unreadable. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at the way the question made it sound like Alastor was his mistress. “No. Definitely not.” He splayed his fingers over his chest possessively, watching his blue claws trail over grey skin. “He’d have all kinds of ideas for you that I’m not interested in hearing. Not to mention, he’s always running his mouth. And you’re still my dirty little secret.” He gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

Alastor let out a low chuckle, even as his smile twisted in distaste. “A secret that you just last night paraded in front of all your guests.”

Vox raised an eyebrow. “You still pissed about that? It was just a little tease for the public. Fuck, they still don’t actually know anything. And you even initiated a second dance!” he added indignantly. 

“I never said I was pissed about that,” he snapped, the sleepiness now almost completely gone from his voice. “I’m simply pointing out the irony. Surely your precious Valentino suspects something is amiss.”

“I’ve been able to brush off his questions,” he assured. Which Valentino certainly had questions last night. But it had been easy enough to convince him that he’d threatened Alastor when he’d gone to him for the ad read, and now the Radio Demon was simply too scared to say no to him. “Don’t worry about it, babe. What Valentino makes up for in sex appeal, he lacks in intelligence. He won’t be an issue.” 

Alastor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “I truly don’t understand what about him is so appealing.” 

“You don’t understand how anyone is appealing,” he pointed out with a laugh. 

“Not so!” he protested with forced brightness as he pushed himself to sit up, knocking Vox’s hand off him in the process and fixing his eyes on a far corner of the room. “I can at least see how you, for example, could be considered attractive. I can see the appeal. Valentino I simply find thoroughly repulsive.” 

Vox’s screen glitched, and his head collided with the headboard in his haste to sit up. “Y-you… what?”

Alastor rolled his eyes so aggressively Vox wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if they popped out of his head. “I’m not repeating myself,” he said dryly. 

“No, you totally just called me attractive!” He pulled his knees under himself to kneel on the bed, fixing Alastor with a leering grin. Alastor so rarely gave out compliments in the first place, and the fact that he was calling him attractive… that was huge, right?! 

“In a sense, I suppose,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively and still avoiding his gaze. “So, you can stop being all offended over me saying I’m not attracted to you.”

Vox blinked. “What?”

Alastor looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “That is why you’ve been avoiding me so much lately, is it not?”

“No! I…” He could feel a blush warming his screen. He didn’t want to admit the embarrassing truth - that he’d been doing it for Alastor. That he didn’t want to be too much for him, and thought that he could maybe… what? Work his way into his good graces by giving him some nights off? It sounded so stupid when he stopped to think about it. “I’d been neglecting Val,” he explained instead, eyes darting away from him. “Needed to find a way to spread my time between the two of you. And you made it pretty clear how you feel about me waiting to be done with him.” He managed a faint laugh at that. 

There was the sound of tearing fabric, and Vox quickly looked over to find that Alastor’s claws had torn into his bedsheets, his antlers beginning to arch over his head. “As I’ve just had to do, you mean?” he demanded, his voice particularly garbled by static. 

Vox’s eyebrows shot up. Was he fucking kidding right now? “Excuse me? I didn’t know you’d be here! I told you you could leave. And of course I was going to be with my boyfriend after a party where he was my fucking date! That’s just expected!” The ungrateful prick. Here Vox was being patient, doing everything he could to make Alastor comfortable, finding new levels of self-control, and instead of being grateful, he was getting all pissy over it! Maybe he had been being too lenient. Alastor would do well to remember who was really in control here. 

His hand shot out, grabbing Alastor’s chin roughly as he tried to look away, meeting his snarl with a cruel smile, his eye spiraling furiously and static coating his voice. “Would you have preferred I come here to ravish you, instead? Make you hold your legs up for me while I fuck that pretty little ass of yours? Fill you up nicely, then stick a buttplug in there while I ride your cock? That’s what I did with Valentino, after all, and that was only the start! So, why don’t you be fucking grateful that you got to wait while I got my rocks off with him instead of you.”  

Alastor’s ears were pinned back against his head, and his lips curled back from his teeth. “Unhand me,” he growled.

“No. You don’t realize how good you fucking have it. You should be-”

“Grateful?” he scoffed, his eyes blazing. “I should be grateful you’re not raping me, is that what you were going to say? Because that is literally the bare minimum, Vox! And I’m not thanking you for it.” 

“This is Hell, sweetheart,” he sneered. “I don’t have to play nice.” And now, more than ever, he was cursing himself for doing so.

Alastor leaned forward, not flinching as he pricked himself on Vox’s claws. “Then why do you?” he snarled as his eyes flickered into radio dials.

Vox’s screen flickered and he abruptly dropped his hand and turned away from him, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Because I can’t stop fucking loving you. If he could just turn off his feelings for Alastor, everything would be so much easier. But even angry, indignant, and spewing threats, there was still a line that Vox didn’t want to cross with him. That he couldn’t cross with him.

He was saved from having to come up with a response by his phone ringing. He looked over at it with a sigh. “Great. Now I get to argue with Val, too,” he muttered more to himself as he twisted to reach across himself for the phone on his nightstand, but before he could do more than lift his arm, he was suddenly brought to a stop by a hand curling tightly around his wrist. 

“We are in the middle of a conversation,” Alastor hissed. 

Vox looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “If I ignore him, he’s gonna be pissed.” And he would really prefer it if he didn’t have to deal with both of his lovers being upset with him for no good reason. 

“I don’t care.” He yanked Vox back by his wrist and pressed him down into the bed to be able to glare down at him, radio dials still ticking in his eyes. “He was with you all night.”

“Yeah, but now he’s upset with me for sneaking out on him this morning,” he snapped, and then he groaned as something else occurred to him. “And now I can’t even use the excuse of my meeting, cause I canceled it when I saw you here. Dammit!” He reached out blindly with his other hand, but Alastor abruptly rolled on top of him, grabbing his other wrist to pin him down by both hands. 

“Oh? You canceled a meeting for me? What? Were you hoping to cuddle?” he taunted, a slight, vicious smirk playing at his lips.

Vox’s eyes flicked over Alastor’s bare chest to his VoxTek loungewear. He could always order him to get off of him, but his phone had now stopped ringing, and he couldn’t say he particularly minded the position. He forced himself to relax beneath the Radio Demon, hoping that would at least get the other to calm down some, even as he narrowed his eyes up at him. “Well, I figured that you must be here for a reason,” he lied smoothly, not about to admit that he actually had been wanting just that. “Speaking of, you still haven’t told me why you are here.”

“I was tired,” he explained dismissively, his eyes and antlers returning to normal as he released Vox’s wrists and straightened to sit upright, straddling Vox’s hips. “And it hardly seemed worth it to go all the way across town to sleep when I was already here.” 

That… made absolutely no fucking sense. For one, Alastor wasn’t one to care about a bit of inconvenience if he was somewhere he didn’t want to be. But most of all, it threw everything he had just gotten all pissy about into question. Vox pursed his lips, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “And here I thought you were mad I kept you waiting? If you were just here to sleep, you had no reason to be waiting for me. So, what gives?”

Alastor froze, panic flashing through his eyes before he quickly looked away. Meanwhile, Vox’s brain was working overtime, trying to piece it all together. Why had Alastor gotten so upset earlier? Vox had just been giving an explanation for not having him stay over all the time, and even in the moment, the reaction had seemed excessive. Vox had just been too pissed in the moment to stop to examine it. But… 

“Wait…” he began slowly, uncertainly. “Are you actually upset I’m not… spending as much time with you?”

He could see the Radio Demon bristle at that, see his hands curl into fists at his sides. But his lips stayed pressed tightly together in a grimace that could barely be considered a smile. 

Vox opened his mouth to press further, officially intrigued, but the sound of his phone ringing again cut him off. “Saved by the bell,” he chuckled as he twisted to reach for his phone the best he could while still being pinned down at the waist. He almost managed to reach it this time before a tentacle curled around the device and hurled it across the room, sending it crashing into the far corner. 

“What the fuck, Alastor?!” he shouted, snapping his attention back to the other demon, his breath catching when he found that he had leaned down again, his hands braced on either side of Vox’s head. 

“Valentino can wait his fucking turn,” Alastor seethed, his eyes bordering on crazed where they hovered above Vox’s screen. 

Vox’s eyes blew wide. Seriously, what was with Alastor today? To be fair, this was kind of hot, but it was also confusing as hell.

To put off having to articulate a coherent response, Vox’s eyes darted back in the direction his phone had been thrown. It had landed with a bit of a worrisome crunch, but it was still ringing, so the damage couldn’t be that bad. And no, it appeared that the sound must have been due to it landing on… was that a pile of glass? Why was there a pile of glass in his room? And then he caught the corner of a picture sticking up from the pile, and his gaze swept back across his room to his desk. The picture of himself and Valentino that usually sat there was noticeably missing. 

Holy shit. There was no fucking way. But why else…? Vox looked back at Alastor in utter disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t even bring himself to be upset with him for breaking his stuff. Because all of this put together could only equal one thing. One thing that really seemed too good to be true, but... “You’re fucking jealous.” 

Claws pierced through the mattress on either side of Vox’s screen. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?” Alastor spat, his antlers beginning to creep up again.

“Yeah, I do.” He bit his lip, practically quivering in excitement as he raised his hands to curl around Alastor’s waist. Because he was right. Alastor wasn’t laughing, wasn’t mocking him; he was getting defensive. He totally was jealous . “But fuck, you are! Oh, that is so cute.” He pulled the deer demon more firmly down on top of him, squeezing him possessively. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re still my number one,” he cooed, blood dripping from his mouth. “You are all mine, and nothing is changing that.”

Alastor’s lip had curled, but before he could protest, Vox’s hand swept up to the back of his head, twisting in his hair to pull him into a kiss. Fuck, he’d missed kissing Alastor like this, like they were waging a battle between their mouths. He’d kept everything so chaste and gentle this past week, and Alastor really didn’t appreciate the self-control he’d been exhibiting. But he was going to make up for that now. He needed to assure his precious Radio Demon that he wasn’t going anywhere, after all.

He forced his tongue into Alastor’s mouth before the other demon even had a chance to register that he was being kissed, immediately moaning at the sensation. Alastor recovered swiftly, his hands releasing the mattress that Vox was definitely going to have to replace, to instead grip Vox’s casing, claws scrambling at the back of it and threatening to rip it to shreds. His teeth sank into Vox’s tongue, and then his own tongue curled around it, holding it in place when he attempted to withdraw it. A low, eager growl rumbled out of Alastor’s throat and had Vox gripping him even tighter, claws digging eagerly into his bare waist as he tried to pull him down even closer to grind against. 

Alastor retaliated by sweeping his own clawed hand down Vox’s chest, slicing into his flesh and tearing his shirt clean open. Vox gasped into his mouth, and Alastor’s tongue set to plundering his mouth instead. He groaned as he explored, and his hand slid to the side of Vox’s waist, beneath his torn shirt, gripping him just as firmly as he himself was being held. 

And then Vox’s phone started up ringing again. 

Alastor’s head snapped to the side, and he glared at it as though it had personally violated his territory. “He is annoyingly persistent,” he growled. 

“Yeah,” Vox laughed, unable to stop smiling as he soothed his hands over the marks he’d left on Alastor’s sides. “Imagine what it’s like dating him.” 

His mouth curled in distaste. “I’d rather not,” he murmured, before his eyes flicked back to Vox with a raised eyebrow. “I fail to see how he’s worth it. Surely you tire of dealing with him.”

“That’s your jealousy talking,” he shot back with a smug grin. “What do you want me to say, babe? That I’d rather spend my time with you? Cause I would.” And if Alastor actually wanted to hear him say it, then it was absolutely worth admitting. 

Alastor’s eyes darted down, watching as his hand smoothed down Vox’s torso. “No,” he said in a low voice that, despite how quiet it was, seemed to echo in the silence of the room after the ringing died away. He ducked his head down, pressing his lips to one of the scratches he’d left on Vox’s chest, tongue darting out to lick up the blood. 

Vox sighed contentedly, momentarily forgetting the thread of the conversation as Alastor continued down his torso, licking up all the blood that had bloomed there. And then the deer demon paused, a claw tracing along the waistband of Vox’s pants as he hovered above him, and the sight alone had Vox letting out a low whine, his head rocking back into his pillow while his hips arched up needily. 

Alastor chuckled. His claw dipped lower. And then without warning, he tore into Vox’s pants and swiftly stripped them off of him. 

“Shit!” Vox’s head snapped up again, looking down in wide-eyed disbelief as Alastor hovered above his half-hard dick. “A-Al…?” Was he about to give him a fucking blow job? No, he had to just be messing with him. Fucking asshole. He was such a damn tease. But fuck, Vox did love being teased by him. Though he’d love it even more if Alastor actually sucked him off.

The Radio Demon met his eyes with a smirk, his hands caressing Vox’s hips and thighs. “That you’re mine,” he purred, close enough that his breath teased against his rapidly hardening cock. 

Vox was already damn near short-circuiting, and that comment threw him through a loop. He blinked, not comprehending. “Wh-what?”

“You asked what I want you to say,” Alastor reminded him simply, his smile sharp and his eyes glinting with conceit and hunger. “That’s my answer. I want you to say that you.” He pressed his lips to the base of his shaft, and all of Vox’s breath left him in a huff. “Are.” He kissed a little higher. “Mine,” he practically growled the last word before licking a strip up the underside of his dick.

A garbled mess of static and curses was torn from Vox’s throat. Alastor wanted… what? Vox couldn’t think properly right now. Not when he had spent far too much time imagining that mouth and tongue on him, and now he was right there. Fuck! And he was being possessive, too. Shit, that was hot. 

Vox was still trying to string together any coherent words when Alastor wrapped his mouth around his dick. And that was just too much. A loud moan spilled from Vox’s throat and his hand automatically reached for the other demon, twisting in his hair. He had to restrain himself from pulling him down, making him take in his full length all at once, but he managed to do no more than grip his hair desperately as he let Alastor set the pace. 

His inexperience was clear, but that didn’t matter, because it was Alastor. And he quickly caught on, keying in on Vox’s reactions and repeating the actions that drove him absolutely insane. He had been right about that tongue - it was like it was made for this, wrapping around Vox’s member as the head hit against the back of his throat, which in turn spasmed around him delightfully. 

Vox had always been loud in bed, but he couldn’t have been quiet now if he tried. He was shouting, whimpering, moaning Alastor’s name, and the Radio Demon seemed to feed on all of it, his mouth seeming more eager with each sound he made. His lips slid back up his shaft, tongue twirling around the tip, and the lights overhead flickered.

“Al-xc-astor,” Vox groaned, unable to keep from tugging at his hair insistently, even as he took him fully into his mouth again. Vox let out a cry at the feeling of being fully engulfed, and he leaned up to appreciate the picture-perfect sight, his legs trembling where they framed Alastor’s form, held down in his unforgiving grip. “Shi-it. Fuck. I’m g-gonna-”

Alastor hummed around him, and the vibration pushed him over the edge. He came with a shout, and his fist tightened in Alastor’s hair, holding him down so that he could thrust into his mouth until he was thoroughly spent. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he sighed, collapsing back onto the bed. His phone was ringing again, as it had done several times by this point, but Vox ignored it. Alastor was right. Val could wait his turn. 

Lips were pressed to Vox’s hip, followed by a tongue. He’d hardly noticed Alastor gripping him tight enough to draw blood, but it was hardly surprising. Once Alastor had cleaned the blood off of one hip, he moved on to the other, humming in delight. 

“Fuck, Al, where did that come from?” Vox asked breathlessly once he had finally gathered his wits. 

“Just making a point, my dear,” Alastor sang, knocking the scraps of Vox’s shirt off of him as he kissed his way back up his body. 

“Oh? And what point is that?” he asked, vaguely amused and basking in his afterglow. 

“Obviously that you are mine.” His claws danced over his chest as he mouthed at his collarbone. “As evidenced by the way you don’t hesitate to give yourself over to me,” he continued, his voice dipping low.

Oh, right. That was what had started this whole thing, wasn’t it? He looked over at Alastor out of the corner of narrowed eyes. What the hell did he even mean by that? That Vox was his? Did he want Vox helplessly trailing after him, like he’d done once upon a time? Because fuck that. Never again. Whatever he felt for Alastor, he was better than that now. He wasn’t going to be his fucking plaything. 

“Sounds to me like you’ve got it backwards, doll” he leered as he scratched at the base of an ear, the action managing to be both affectionate and condescending. “You’re the one who’s mine.”  

Alastor bared his teeth. “It can be both.”

Vox didn’t get a chance to do more than raise an eyebrow before Alastor’s teeth clamped down on his shoulder. “Fucking dammit,” he hissed at the now familiar pain. His hand flexed for a moment before it returned to petting the deer demon’s hair and ears. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath. “This isn’t how you win an argument.”

“No?” Alastor chuckled against him in between nipping at the edges of the bite mark he’d left and lapping up the blood. “If you’re not mine, then why is it that I can have a piece of you whenever I want? Why is it that you surrender to me so easily and so completely?” he purred before pulling back to look at Vox’s flustered screen with a smirk. “You certainly act like you’re mine. And surely you wouldn’t do so with just anybody,” he added with a pointed laugh. 

“Well, no, I - I…” What did he even say to that? Because no, of course not! Vox was only like this with Alastor. But then, wasn’t that proving his point? That Alastor still had him wrapped around his finger, even though Vox was the one who owned his soul. It was just because he wanted Alastor to want this as much as he did, though. So, sure, he’d granted him liberties to try to make that happen. But that didn’t mean that Alastor could just do whatever the fuck he wanted with him! Not like Vox could technically do with him. Could but didn’t. Because, well, he couldn’t bring himself to . So maybe Alastor could take just as much from him as he was willing to take from the other. Maybe it wasn’t really all that different. Though he still wasn’t quite sure what Alastor was even asking for here. It almost sounded like…

A sudden banging on Vox’s bedroom door made the both of them jump, their attention snapping towards the sound. 

“Vox, come on!” Valentino shouted in a huff. “I know you’re in there.”

“Fuck my life,” Vox sighed. He took advantage of Alastor’s distraction to teleport out from under him, reaching just behind his bathroom door to retrieve his dark blue bathrobe, decorated with cyan pinstripes. 

“Vox,” Alastor snapped in a low voice, and he fixed him with an irritated glare as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“I’ll get rid of him,” he promised as he hastily tied up his robe. He needed to finish this conversation with Alastor. And at this point, he doubted that he was any happier about the interruption than the deer demon was, with the sort of crazed hope that was beginning to buzz just beneath the surface of his skin. “Just stay out of the way, so he doesn’t see you.” And then he quickly caught at Alastor’s hand as the other got to his feet, squeezing desperately as he added as an order, “But don’t leave yet.”  

Alastor’s irritation gave way to a faint smirk, and he nodded as he raised Vox’s hand to his lips to press a firm kiss against it, maintaining eye-contact the entire time. “I didn’t intend to, mon cher.” He released his hand and moved to stand to the side of the door, where he wouldn’t be visible from the open doorway. 

Vox smiled and gave him a satisfied nod, then went to answer the door.

Chapter Text

Vox yanked open his bedroom door with an exasperated sigh, careful to keep his hand on it to prevent it from opening all the way. “What, Val?”

Valentino stood in the hallway, his wings wrapped around himself in a coat, and his lower set of arms crossed over his chest while his upper arm was still raised from where it had been hammering on the door. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he pouted petulantly.

“I’ve been busy,” he snapped. “I have shit to do. Do you mind?”

“Of course I mind!” he shouted, throwing his upper pair of arms in the air. “You were supposed to be in my bed when I woke up, but instead here you are, fucking ignoring me? ¡Que te folle un pez! You don’t get to play mind games on me like I’m your slut of the week.” A sudden smirk pulled at his lips and he leaned down to get in his face. “Especially not when I fucked you so good last night, you were in tears.”

Vox could feel his face heating up, but he was quickly distracted when the door was suddenly wrenched out of his hand. But Valentino hadn’t moved. The door was being pulled inward and Alastor stepped up beside him, one hand landing on Vox’s shoulder while the other flung the door fully open. “I do believe that’s my fault, I’m afraid! So sorry! We got a bit distracted.” He fixed the moth demon with a sharp smile that didn’t look in the least bit apologetic. 

Valentino’s face went slack in shock, eyes darting between the two of them in utter disbelief. 

Vox’s screen glitched and his eyes grew wide as saucers as he swiveled his head to stare at Alastor. Still shirtless, still wearing his VoxTek lounge pants, and casually standing beside him as though it was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

“¿Qué carajo?” Valentino swore, his eyes ranking over the Radio Demon. “What is this freak doing in your room? And dressed like that?”  

Vox could feel Alastor stiffen slightly under the appraising gaze, and he wondered if it had occurred to him just how underdressed he was; though he showed no other signs of his discomfort. Still, the television demon reacted automatically, side-stepping and angling his body to give Alastor at least a bit more coverage. “Stop leering,” he snapped.

The moth demon raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Hard not to when he’s all on display like that,” he scoffed. “With a body like that-”

“VAL,” he cut him off furiously. “Shut your mouth before I do it for you.”

His eyes flew wide at his reaction, his mouth opening and closing again uncertainly. Meanwhile, Alastor’s arm slid around to drape over Vox’s shoulder and his other hand raised to toy with the neckline of his robe as he nearly melted against his back. The gesture was subtly possessive and sent Vox’s mind spinning even more than it already was. 

“What is even going on here?” Valentino demanded. His eyes narrowed and as they locked onto where Alastor’s hand was tracing over Vox’s collar, barely brushing over navy skin as the fabric was displaced. “Mierda, are you seriously letting the cannibal fuck eat you?”  

Vox blinked, then glanced down to see that Alastor had just so happened to pull the collar of his robe to the side to reveal the bite mark that had been left there. He groaned, having no doubts that it had been intentional on his part. The asshole. “Val-” he started, but his partner was still going. 

“I thought you said he was intimidated by you now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest with more than a little irritation, his hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “But you’re still letting him fucking walk all over you. You’re supposed to be a sexy, powerful Overlord, not the Radio Demon’s little bitch.”

Sparks jumped between his antennae as his hands curled into fists at his sides. Oh, he bet Alastor was getting a real kick out of this, the bastard. Fuck, he was gonna make him pay for making him look bad in front of Val. “I’m not-” He didn’t manage to get anything else out before he was cut off by ringing laughter. 

“Oh, but you have entirely the wrong impression,” Alastor corrected flippantly, while his hand slipped lower to slide beneath the fabric of Vox’s robe and splay against his chest. “Vox would hardly allow me to do such things if he didn’t want it. He gets off on it! I’m rather surprised you didn’t know that, but I suppose he doesn’t share with you all of his… kinks.” Vox couldn’t see his face from this angle, but his voice was definitely gloating, and he could easily imagine the mirth sparkling in his eyes. “Speaking of, we were in the middle of something. And you are neither needed nor wanted here.”

Colored bars flickered over Vox’s screen, briefly obscuring his vision. What. The. Fuck. Alastor was even more jealous than he’d thought to be openly bragging about their sex life to the number one source of sex gossip in Pentagram City. And… he’d made sure Vox looked good while doing it. Vox would hardly allow me… He’d assumed that Alastor would love Vox being referred to as ‘his bitch’, but instead the Radio Demon had made it clear that Vox was still in charge, that he wasn’t letting anyone walk all over him. Shit, he’d handled Vox’s recovery in that moment better than he himself could have done. All without even being ordered, without even being asked. Fuck, nevermind about making him pay. He’d give Alastor anything he wanted after Valentino left. 

“Vox,” Valentino snapped, his voice hard, bringing him back to his senses. “You need to tell me what the fuck is going on here right now.”

“No, Val, you need to get out of my room,” Vox argued firmly, clasping his forearms behind his back. “You don’t get to just barge in here and demand explanations for shit that’s none of your fucking business.”

“You’re my fucking business!” he snarled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “And you’re gonna tell me why you walked out on me this morning to be the radio freak’s fucking chew toy!”

Alastor’s shadow darkened, growing where it fell over them both. “I suggest you remove your hand before you lose it entirely,” he growled.

“Excuse me?!” Valentino shot upright to glower down at the Radio Demon.

“Woah, okay!” Vox spun to the side, holding out a hand as though to physically stop both of them. “Both of you, calm down.” He angled his screen towards Valentino, his eye spiraling hypnotically, and the moth demon’s shoulders slumped. Alastor dug in his heels stubbornly against the command for a moment, before he gave a resigned sigh and his shadow shrank back down again. 

“Al, go sit down where you won’t keep making things worse, and wait for me to be done,” he continued, and Alastor really rebelled against that. 

“No,” he snarled.

“Yes,” he snapped, still without looking away from Val, ensuring that he remained calm. “Look, this display is hot and all, but I need you to let me handle it. So, sit and wait.” He didn’t add ‘good boy’ when Alastor turned with a huff and stalked over to the couch, but it was tempting. 

Vox took a deep breath and let up on the hypnosis for a minute. It wasn’t meant to be used continuously; he’d just needed to make sure Valentino stayed subdued long enough for him to get Alastor out of the way. 

Valentino blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You’ve actually made him obedient?” he asked incredulously. 

“I told you I did,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Look, I’m sorry about slipping out this morning,” he lied through his teeth. “I had shit to do, and I honestly didn’t expect Alastor to show up and throw a wrench in my plans. It’s not like I walked out on you to hook up with him. Promise.”

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he crossed both sets of arms again. “I don’t understand. What is he doing here?” 

Yeah, that one was harder to answer. Especially when Vox wasn’t quite clear on the answer, himself. “There was a miscommunication. I decided to make the most of it.”

“When you said he was doing whatever you told him to now, you didn’t mention that included him taking your dick,” he pointed out sulkily.

“As I said, I’m making the most of it,” he said coolly. “And I’m not talking about this right now. And neither are you. To anyone else.” His eye began spiraling again, and he reached up to grab Valentino’s jaw tightly, making sure he had his full attention. “This stays between us. I don’t want you gossiping about it. Period. Now, leave me alone, and we’ll finish this conversation later.”

Valentino’s eyes had gone wide, transfixed, and he nodded numbly. Satisfied, Vox gave him a gentle shove backwards and closed the door in his face. 

*

Alastor sat on Vox’s couch, one leg crossed over the other as he watched Vox coax the moth demon out of the room. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the display of power, the manipulation that his picture box had always been quite skilled at. What he didn’t care for was the fact that Vox was reassuring Valentino in the first place. He much preferred the cretin thinking that Vox had abandoned him in favor of himself. Even more so, he would prefer that reality. 

He smirked as Vox slammed the door in the other’s face, and he immediately traveled through his shadow to materialize behind the television demon, winding his arms around his waist. “An impressive performance,” he purred, and felt Vox shudder faintly against him. “But I do have some notes.” 

“Alastor…” Vox said slowly as he turned around in his arms, bracing his hands on his hips with only a slight tremor. “What. The hell. Was that?”

“I thought you could use some help,” he answered casually as he backed the other demon up until his back was pressed against the door. “I assumed if he saw you had company, he would leave quicker.”

“Liar,” he shot back without hesitation. “You were fucking marking your territory. And you know my compulsion isn’t a permanent thing. Val’s gonna run his mouth about us eventually.”

Yes, he’d known full well the can of worms that he was opening himself up to with his actions. It wasn’t ideal, but he had deemed it necessary to assert his claim over Vox. So long as the true nature of their relationship didn’t get out, he could make peace with it. “And I appreciate you taking steps to delay that for as long as possible.”

Vox huffed a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah. Anything for you, apparently.”

Alastor’s smile grew wider, and he hummed as he slotted their lips together. He leaned his weight into Vox, sandwiching him between his body and the door, and sighing contentedly as the television demon dug his claws into him to pull him closer. He allowed himself a minute to thoroughly ravish the other’s mouth before he pulled back, delighting in the way Vox automatically swayed forward to chase his lips. 

“Just further evidence that you are mine!” Alastor claimed jovially. He could tell that he was so close to getting what he wanted. He just needed to get Vox to admit to it. 

Vox leaned his weight back against the door to look at him, eyebrows furrowed curiously. “Right… and what exactly do you mean by that? Because I’m not your bitch. I’m not following around after you like some helpless puppy. I could say we’re on the same playing field, but we both know that’s being generous. Even if I didn’t own you, you don’t stand a chance against me anymore. But the point is, I’m not beneath you, not even close.”

Ah. Now that had been telling. The one thing Vox didn’t say echoing almost as loud as the words themselves. I’m not your bitch… anymore. I’m not following around after you like some helpless puppy… anymore. I’m not beneath you… anymore. And with that perspective, Vox’s reluctance made a lot more sense. But while there had been a certain charm to their early friendship that made even Alastor nostalgic, that wasn’t what he wanted… anymore.

“No, you’re not,” Alastor agreed easily, tracing his fingers over the side of his screen. “And I don’t want you to be. I don’t think it’d be as fun if you were. Just like you wouldn’t wish to strip me of my power. It just wouldn’t be quite as satisfying.”  

Vox raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue the point. “So what do you want, then?” 

And here they were. Saying that he wanted Vox to be his wasn’t actually all that difficult. It was such a nebulous concept, after all, which was clearly the problem with Vox agreeing to it. Saying what exactly he wanted from him, though… Alastor wasn’t comfortable with the desires himself, let alone sharing them with another. But it wasn’t as though he had any other options. If he wanted Vox to agree, he would have to lay his cards on the table.

“I want you,” he forced the words out, his radio filter flickering in protest against the admission, and Vox’s eyes went wide in response. “All of you. Your time, your attention, your devotion, everything you have to give. I want every ounce of you, every inch of you.” The words were spilling more freely now, almost without conscious thought, and his hands ran down Vox’s torso, up over his sides, sliding over him possessively as the television demon looked back at him in awe. “I want to carve my name into your heart, to occupy all of your thoughts and dreams and desires. I want to experience you surrendering to me again and again, and I want to soak up all of your affection. I want you in every way you can possibly imagine, and you might be rubbing off on me, my dear, because I don’t think I’ve ever been quite this greedy for something before,” he finished with a slightly hysterical laugh.

Vox’s knees had buckled, and Alastor could tell that him pinning him to the door was the only thing keeping him upright. “Wh-wha-? Do y-xc-ou rea-lly…?” His voice glitched profusely, electricity darted around him. His hands shook where they desperately clutched Alastor’s hips, and his screen kept flickering between an awestruck face and rows of colored bars. And then with a pop of static, his entire screen went blue with white text popping up on it. 

A PROBLEM HAS BEEN DETECTED AND VOX HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN TO PREVENT DAMAGE TO HIS SYSTEMS.

THE PROBLEM SEEMS TO BE CAUSED BY THE FOLLOWING FILE: ALASTOR.EXE.

VOX.EXE_CRASH_ERROR_DO_YOU_REALLY_MEAN_THAT

CHECK TO MAKE SURE ALL {{MINE}} HARDWARE AND {{YOURS}} SOFTWARE IS UP TO DATE AND PROPERLY INSTALLED. ASK VOX FOR ANY VOXTEK UPDATES YOU MIGHT NEED.

IF PROBLEMS CONTINUE, {{PLEASE DON’T BE FUCKING WITH ME}} DISABLE OR REMOVE ANY ALASTOR(S) FROM THE GENERAL VICINITY. IF YOU NEED TO USE 'UNSAFE MODE' RESET YOUR VOXTEK DEVICE PRESS F5 AND SELECT 'ADVANCED STARTUP OPTIONS' THEN SELECT 'UNSAFE MODE'

TECHNICAL INFORMATION:

*** REBOOT: ALASTOR.EXE {{I LOVE YOU}} ***

Alastor blinked and his eyes quickly scanned over the words that had appeared on his screen before stopping on the last three, and his smile split his face. So, Rosie had been right. How delightful. 

He slid his arms under Vox’s back and legs to carry him over to the bed, setting him down gently and then crawling over the covers beside him. He traced a claw tenderly over his screen, lingering on the words yours and I love you. This was, frankly, a better response than he could have hoped for. He had always found it so amusing whenever he’d managed to shut the other demon down in the past, and this time was even more rewarding than usual. 

When Vox started to stir, Alastor pressed himself closer, hooking a leg over him and sliding down so that he could press a kiss to his throat, while his hand moved down to splay over his chest. 

“Alastor,” Vox began shakily. “Did you mean all of that? Be honest,” he added, and Alastor couldn’t help but chuckle at the order.

“I did,” he assured silkily, pulling back just enough to smile down at him.

His screen brightened with his smile, but then it wobbled uncertainly, and Alastor felt the television demon tense beneath his hand. “Wait… did you…?” His gaze darted away, becoming distant. “You didn’t happen to read my error message, did you?” he asked, a bit of nervousness seeping into his expression.

Alastor let out a low laugh. “But of course I did! It was quite enlightening.”

“Shit. No, um… forget what you-”

“You can’t order me to forget something,” he reminded him with an amused smile. 

“No…” he muttered bitterly, but then his gaze slid back over to him, and his left eye grew larger as it began to spiral. “But I can-”  

“Stop!” Alastor’s voice rang out sharply, and he reeled back, even as he felt himself being drawn in with the urge to listen and obey. “Red. Do not take this from me, Vox.”

Vox blinked, both eyes returning to normal. “Take this from you?”

He could feel his smile sharpening, the set of his shoulders becoming more defensive. “I told you I want your complete devotion. What part of that didn’t you understand?” he snapped. He still couldn’t understand why he wanted any of this, only that he did. And knowing Vox, he was going to want explanations that Alastor didn’t know how to give, and wouldn’t want to give even if he did. He was incessantly irritating like that - demanding answers to things he would never understand. 

Vox’s eyes went wide. “... Oh. Fuck.” He lunged forward, capturing Alastor’s lips in a kiss and rolling them over until the Radio Demon was on his back. Alastor let him without protest, dragging his hands up his sides and squeezing not quite hard enough to do any damage. Yet.

It wasn’t too long before Vox pulled back, eyes darting down to his hand as it slid down to rest on his chest, fingers splayed possessively. “You want this?” he asked breathlessly.

Alastor scowled, looking away. “I… yes, I suppose I do,” he admitted, his voice clipped and uncomfortable. “But you already knew that. You’ve called me out on my enjoyment plenty already . Here I thought I was above such things, and yet it seems I am not so different from everyone else chasing such salacious desires.” It was quite the tragic realization. 

Vox huffed a laugh. “That isn’t even what I…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he smiled down at him, propping himself up with his free arm. “Trust me, you’re still different. Look, it makes sense that you’d enjoy something that makes you feel good, right? And you’re always eager to chase anything that gives you a rush of excitement - that thrill of novelty.” He let his index finger dip down, just barely breaking skin, and he met Alastor’s eyes with a knowing smirk. “This is no different, really, than enjoying a bit of bloodshed side-by-side with someone who can actually keep up with you. Or maybe than having a drink with a friend who will hang onto your every word, but still throw in a few insults for good measure. I don’t know for sure, because it’s not like that for me. 

“For me, it’s like an itch that I have to scratch. And I can’t look at you, sexy as you are, without thinking about all the things I want to do to you. It is a need that runs down to my very core. Much more than a fun activity to engage in to get a bit of a power trip, or whatever else you get out of it. What I’m saying is, you can still consider yourself above it all, even if you also enjoy indulging in such ‘salacious desires,’” he finished, mimicking a transatlantic accent.

Alastor hardly registered the mocking, too taken aback with everything else Vox had said. It was a reassuring perspective, for sure, but that wasn’t what stuck out to him the most. “You… every other time we talked about such things, you seemed absolutely incapable of understanding.”

Vox’s screen lit up with pride. “Well, I just had to know what made you tick, Al. I wasn’t going to stop until I understood.” He lowered himself back down to completely cover him, and his voice dipped lower to match. “You do occupy all my thoughts, after all. And I do want to give you everything - including my understanding. And you should know that once I set my mind to something, I make it happen.”

“Indeed.” He smiled with genuine fondness as he wound his arms around his waist. “Well, then. I’m sure you understand what I want you to say next.”

Vox’s laugh shook his full body, and it sounded somehow lighter than Alastor was used to hearing from him. “Right…” As his laughter died down, a smirk spread over his screen. “Ask nicely.” 

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, and he swiftly brought a hand up to squeeze at the back of Vox’s neck. “Now, Vox, you should know I never ask nicely,” he reminded him dangerously. 

His smirk only grew wider at that. “Oh, I know. But if you want to hear me say it, I guess you’d better make an exception.”

Frankly, he had already made far too many exceptions for Vox for his liking. He smiled wickedly as he hooked his leg around Vox and used the momentum to roll them onto their sides. His right hand remained gripping Vox’s neck, while the other slipped beneath his robe to scrape over skin. “I have other ways to make you say it,” he purred as his hand dipped lower, squeezing his hip and pulling him against him. He leaned in to graze his teeth over Vox’s throat, but he’d barely made contact when-

“Stop,” Vox ordered, just a bit breathlessly. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. No seducing this out of me.” 

Alastor pulled back, too surprised to even fight the order, and it must have shown because Vox laughed at the look on his face. 

“Did you forget I can put a stop to this at any time?” he asked, cupping Alastor’s face in his hand while his thumb traced along his jawline, smile sharp and his eyes alight with desire. “Everything you do I allow. And you love that, don’t you?” 

He… wasn’t wrong. Not entirely, at least. Alastor hated having to follow his orders, but… well, there was a certain thrill to it, especially in this context. And Vox’s denial just made him want to touch him more. He could feel his arousal twitch where it was pressed against Vox’s leg, and his eyes widened further.

Vox’s smile widened hungrily as his hand slid down to lightly rest around Alastor’s throat. “You’re mine, we both know that,” he continued in a low voice. “But if you want something more, you’re gonna have to ask for it. How much do you want to hear me say it, Alastor?” 

How did Vox so easily turn this around on him? He’d been a mess mere minutes ago! Blue screened with confessions he hadn’t meant to reveal, completely overwhelmed by Alastor’s declaration. And now Alastor was the one desperate, the one considering setting aside his pride for once in his entire existence. But this was exactly why he needed Vox. Because no one else could make him feel such things. 

From the day he’d met the picture box, he had been the source of such novel exhilaration. As Vox had changed over the years, Alastor had thought that charm was starting to dim, but now he knew that had more to do with them both drawing away from each other than Vox’s changes on their own. Because right now, Vox was as riveting as ever. 

Alastor grasped onto the tie of his robe just for something to do with his hands. Somehow, even while clutching him so closely, even with his leg still flung over him, he still didn’t feel close enough. “Say it,” he grit out through clenched teeth. “Please.”  

Vox sucked in a sharp breath, his screen flickering with euphoria, and then he crushed their lips together once again. His hand slid down Alastor’s side to grip his hip, and a low groan spilled from the Radio Demon’s mouth as he ground against him. 

“Fuck,” Vox gasped against his lips. “Alastor. I’m yours.”

And with that Alastor lost all sense of reason and thought. He growled as he tore open the tie in his hands and shoved Vox’s robe off of him to greedily run his hands over every bit of skin he could reach. And Vox moaned in response, electricity sparking off his tongue as he shoved it into Alastor’s mouth, and his hands clutched at his sides, pulling him close. 

It still wasn’t enough. Alastor impatiently pushed down the waistband of his pants and underwear both, removing his leg from around Vox to be able to kick them off completely. He immediately gripped Vox’s hip and gasped at the sensation of their bare cocks sliding together, momentarily overwhelmed. 

“Hol-ly shi-i-it!” Vox leaned back just enough to be able to look down at the way Alastor’s ashy length bumped up against his own. Side-by-side like this, it was noticeable that, while Alastor might have an inch or so on him, Vox was far girthier, the veins of his cock pulsing with a faint, cyan glow. 

Vox reached down, his hand hovering just close enough to be a frustrating tease. “C-can I?”

“Yes,” Alastor growled, his claws digging into Vox’s hip viciously. It was as much in a need to be close to him as it was in an effort to distract himself with the bloodshed. Focusing on what he knew when the other sensations might prove to be too much. And he latched onto that hiss of pain, even as it morphed into a groan as Vox wrapped his hand around them both, slicking them with their precum and beginning to pump them gingerly, mindful of his claws. 

And then Alastor couldn’t focus on anything else. “Fuck!” he gasped, and rocked forward so that his forehead landed on Vox’s shoulder. “Vox.” He twisted his head to the side, nestling beneath his screen to be able to nip at his neck, lightly at first, but then more deliberately slicing his skin. “Mine.”

“Fu-uck, yes,” Vox moaned, squeezing their cocks gently as he increased his pace. “Yes. All yours, baby. Alastor. Fuck!” His breath hitched as he ran the pad of his thumb over their tips, and Alastor shuddered and bit down harder than he had intended to, Vox’s shoulder muffling what would have been a truly embarrassing sound.

Vox’s free hand moved from his hair where it had settled down to his lower back, not hesitating before he dug his claws into his flesh and sent a low current pulsing through his body. And there was only so much Vox’s shoulder could do to muffle the cry that tore out of Alastor. His hand tightened demandingly on the television demon’s hip, and he began thrusting almost desperately into his hand, hardly aware of what he was doing, of the sounds still spilling out of him. He raised his other hand, clawing at Vox’s casing until he reached his antennae, which he grabbed hold of tightly, the resulting shock making him grind his teeth together as a static-laced whine filled the air. 

They continued to tear into each other, to grind together into Vox’s hand, and it was overwhelming, but in a way that wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. He felt Vox everywhere - his arm wrapped around him, his hand pumping him, his mouth that had caught his again, his electricity coursing through him, and his frequency buzzing around them, mingling with Alastor’s own. It was all on just the right side of unbearable, making it instead intoxicating and, well, electrifying.  

Alastor swore as he came, and Vox was still working him through his orgasm when he followed suit. He pulled Alastor roughly by the ear into another kiss until they were both spent, and then he proceeded to collapse bonelessly on top of him with a pathetic groan. Alastor didn’t particularly mind, and he took a moment to catch his breath as well, before he brought his fingers to his mouth and began licking them clean of Vox’s blood, humming in delight. 

*

Vox took a deep, shuddering breath as he wrapped his arms around the Radio Demon pinned to the bed beneath him, slipping one hand low enough to be able to sink it into the soft fur of his tail. Holy shit. The past, what? Hour? Had been fucking insane. Alastor wanted him. Wanted him enough to ask, to say please. He wanted him to love him. Fuck, he didn’t have to pretend, to lock that part of himself away, because Alastor wanted it. It was unreal. There was one thing he should probably clarify, though…

He cleared his throat and lifted himself up with one arm enough to be able to look down at the other demon, while keeping his other hand tangled in his tail. “This doesn’t mean I don’t hate you, you know.” 

Alastor blinked, looking admittedly far too adorable for the dangerous demon that he was when he paused with just the tip of his index finger in his mouth. It only lasted for a moment, though, before he started laughing, said finger moving to scrape down the edge of Vox’s screen instead, tracing the line between glass and plastic. “Likewise, my dear! But I think that just keeps things interesting, don’t you?”

An easy grin spread over Vox’s screen as he lowered himself back down, placing most of his weight on the elbow that was propped to Alastor’s side. “Yeah.”

“Oh, and there was one other thing I wanted to request of you,” Alastor said as though he’d just remembered something; though his devilish smile said otherwise. “Since you’re mine and all.” The hand that wasn’t tracing Vox’s screen curled around his waist possessively. 

Vox’s expression fell, and his heart stuttered with his apprehension. Shit. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Of course this had all been about turning the tables on him.

His eyes narrowed as he reached back to wrap his hand tightly around Alastor’s wrist, pointedly pulling his hand away from him. “No,” he said firmly, and Alastor’s eyes flickered uncertainly as his wrist was pinned to the bed beside his head and Vox’s expression quickly morphed into fury. “I am not giving up your soul. I should have known this was all just a fucking ploy-”

“Come now, Vox. You know I meant everything I said,” Alastor interrupted incredulously. “You made me confirm as much.” 

“Yeah, and I know full well you know how to use some creative wording to make things sound better than they are. I bet if I took a closer look at everything you said - which was all one-sided as hell, anyway-”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he snapped. “Would you shut up for five seconds so I can tell you what I’m actually requesting, instead of jumping to conclusions? I assure you, were our positions reversed, I certainly wouldn’t be giving up your soul, and I never expected that from you, either.” 

Vox blinked, his anger instantly evaporating. “Oh.” He released Alastor, who proceeded to give him a surprisingly gentle shove off of him. He rolled to his side so that he was facing him, propping his head up on his hand. “Okay, I’m listening,” he promised, only slightly chagrined. It had been the logical conclusion, after all. 

Alastor rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about paranoid fools reading too much into everything before he turned his head to the side to look at him, meeting his gaze with single-minded resolve. “Why I want you in the first place is ever the mystery, but regardless, I have no intention to share,” he said in the tone of voice that left no room for argument, despite him having approached it as a ‘request’. 

“You…” Vox opened his mouth then closed it again as he scrambled to find words. Maybe he should have seen this coming, given the way Alastor had acted earlier, but he’d kind of assumed that being able to call Vox his would be enough for him. “You want me to break up with Valentino?” he clarified slowly. 

“So, you can use your brain, well done!”

His eyes immediately narrowed again. “Fuck you. You don’t know what you’re asking.” 

“Oh, I’m not asking,” he swiftly corrected, his smile growing dangerously. 

“Dammit, Alastor…” Vox sighed, shaking his head. He couldn’t sit still, so he rolled to sit on the side of the bed, grabbing a tissue to clean himself off with as he tried to get his brain to move a little less sluggishly. 

“Look, if this is about me spending more time with him this week, I did that for you,” he finally explained, still sitting with his back to the other demon. He didn’t feel quite as ridiculous admitting that in the wake of their latest conversation, but that didn’t make it easy, by any means. “I thought you’d… like the time off, and it let me get things out of my system with him without relying on you to get me off.”

He could feel the shift of the bed as Alastor sat up behind him. “I never asked for that,” he pointed out coolly.

“No,” he agreed, frowning as he crumpled the tissue in his fist. “But… I didn’t want to be too much for you,” he muttered bitterly, tossing the tissue onto the nightstand to be thrown away later. 

There was a moment’s pause, then Alastor emerged from the shadows in front of him, looking down at him with a narrow-eyed glare that somehow didn’t lose its weight, despite him being naked with their cum drying on his stomach. “Do you truly think that I can’t handle you?” he demanded, and then his neck cracked as he cocked his head to the side at a ninety degree angle, the shadows seeming to darken around him. “Or is it that I’m not enough for you?”  

Vox’s eyes blew wide, and he scrambled to his feet. “Shit, no. That’s definitely not the case.” The very concept of Alastor being not enough would be laughable if he wasn’t so obviously furious at the very notion.

Vox stepped towards him, and Alastor reached out, clutching his screen between his thumb and forefinger in a grip that threatened to break glass. “Then I’m sure you can manage just fine without him. If you must scratch that itch without me, then you can do so on your own. I might even deem to grace you with my presence, if I’m not up for any hands-on involvement!”

Fuck. If Vox hadn’t just come for the fifth time in five hours, his body would definitely be taking an interest in that. The very idea of getting off with Alastor right there, but being unable to touch him. He wondered if he would watch him with that sharp, critical gaze, or if he would make him desperate for just the hint of acknowledgement. Either way sounded tantalizing. 

He took a deep breath, shaking his head to clear it and focus on the conversation at hand. “I’ve been with Val for a while - maybe not consistently, but… I don’t know if I can just drop him.” 

He and Val had been on-again, off-again since shortly after they’d started working together. At the time, the moth demon had been a great distraction from his feelings for Alastor, and then it’d just become… normal. Sure, they had their fair share of fights and broke up a lot, but there was a silent understanding that they’d always come back together. And when they did, the make-up sex was guaranteed to be amazing. They had fun, and even if Valentino could be difficult at times, the relationship itself was easy because, frankly, it didn’t mean anything. They were just there to keep each other entertained. 

Alastor released Vox as though he had burned him and his hand dropped back to his side. “I see,” he spit out, his voice clipped and his smile tense enough that it looked as though it might snap. He took a step back, his gaze darting away from him. “I’m going to take a shower. I’d appreciate the privacy.”

“Al-” Vox started, reaching out for him, but Alastor had already vanished into his shadow. A couple moments later, he heard the sound of running water from the other side of his bathroom door. He squeezed his eyes shut, his outstretched hand clenching into a fist. “Dammit.”

He sighed and distracted himself from the larger problem by hunting for his boxers, finding that they’d somehow gotten kicked under the bed. He pulled them on, then wandered over to his desk and collapsed into the chair. What the hell was he supposed to do? 

On the one hand, he and Valentino had a good thing going. They had a history together, both as business partners and as a couple, and there was no real reason to end it. On the other hand, Valentino meant nothing to him when compared to Alastor. Alastor, who had seemed so… hurt seemed a stretch, but at least offended at the idea of having to share him. And Vox couldn’t even blame him, because if he’d had to share Alastor, he would definitely be killing whoever was necessary in order to keep the Radio Demon all to himself. It was honestly flattering that Alastor didn’t want anyone else touching him, either.

Vox’s gaze fell to the bottom drawer of his desk. He and Alastor had so much history, too. They went back even further than he and Valentino did. It was just a hell of a lot messier. 

Though he knew that the drawer was locked - the key kept tucked away in his office to keep him from impulsively opening it - he couldn’t help but tug at the handle. And to his surprise, the drawer slid open. 

Vox paused, blinking down at the memories of his past with Alastor that he’d kept resolutely hidden away. How was it unlocked?

He peered closer, gazing critically at the stack of letters and newspaper clippings, at the crumbled papers that were the letters he’d started and then wadded up once he thought better of them, at the box that contained the ill-thought-out gift to welcome Alastor to his team. He frowned as he picked up the crimson box. He rather doubted that the Valentino approach of getting him something nice so that he’d forget why he was upset would work on Alastor, but maybe he should reconsider giving it to him one of these days. The custom pocket watch had taken on quite a lot of meaning for Vox over the years, as he’d begun to think of it as symbolic of the future he could have with Alastor. Maybe it could now be symbolic of a different kind of future between them…

Vox opened the lid, and froze. The box was empty.

Chapter Text

Alastor didn’t know what to do. He had thought he was in the midst of getting what he wanted. Vox had admitted to being his, to loving him - he’d assumed that would be the difficult part; that now that he had that, getting him to leave Valentino would be easy. Why was this where Vox was digging his heels in?

There wasn’t anything special about the worthless moth, no reason Alastor could see as to why Vox would stubbornly hang onto him. He was an obnoxious waste of space, a moron that would have gotten nowhere in Hell without riding on Vox’s coattails. While it was safe to assume that he must have some skill in the area of sexual relations, given his profession, surely it was nothing that Vox couldn’t make do without. Unless… Vox loved him too, which to his surprise, Alastor hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask, unsure what he would do if the answer was yes. 

Alastor couldn’t share him. But if Vox refused to leave Valentino, then what choice did he have? It wasn’t as though he was in any position to walk away. Vox owned him. And Alastor knew that Vox would never let him be nothing more than a soul that he called on when needed.

To make matters worse, now Alastor couldn’t even hide what he felt. With his admission, their relationship had fundamentally shifted, and there was no taking that back. Not now that Vox knew that he wanted him, too. Now that he knew he had everything he’d ever wanted from the Radio Demon, practically handed to him on a silver platter. So, why would it matter to him that Alastor didn’t want him with Valentino? Vox was getting what he wanted, regardless. He held all the power here. This had been a mistake. 

The shower did little to calm the turmoil raging inside him, and even when he turned off the water and stepped out, he still felt as though he was going to be sick. He dried off haphazardly, and then wrapped the towel around his waist before walking back out into the bedroom. He wondered what the chances were that Vox would let him go back to the hotel. He would really prefer not to be around him right now.

Vox’s head snapped to face Alastor the second he entered the room. He was sitting at his desk, and his eyes were wide and full of shock. And then Alastor registered the crimson box that he was holding. Well, fuck. 

Alastor cleared his throat, his smile tense as his eyes flickered from Vox’s face to the empty box and back again. “I can explain.”

His eyebrows rose to the top of his screen. “You can explain?” he repeated with a strained, incredulous laugh. “You shouldn’t even know what this is!” He waved the box in the air before slamming it down on the desk as he shot to his feet. “Why the fuck are you going through my stuff? Through my locked drawers?!”

He bared his teeth, crossing his arms behind his back defensively. “You told me to make myself at home! If you didn’t want me to take advantage of that, perhaps you should have been more specific. And honestly, Vox, you of all people have no right to be upset over an invasion of privacy when we both know full well that you have spent countless hours stalking me.”

“Oh, like you fucking care - you love the attention!” He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “And at least I’ve never broken into your things before.”

“Only because you’ve never had the opportunity,” he shot back immediately. 

Vox opened his mouth, then closed it again because he clearly knew that Alastor had him there. He quickly recovered, though. “Alright, fine, but you also stole from me.”

“Hardly,” Alastor scoffed, his smile sharpening. “It was clearly meant for me, and you weren’t going to give it to me.”

“Because it was supposed to be a welcome gift for when you joined me! But you didn’t.” He scowled down at the box and crossed his arms over his chest, evidently still bitter about it all. Which was hardly surprising. Vox always could hold a grudge like none other.

“That’s hardly a sufficient reason to let such an exquisite piece go to waste,” he insisted with a wave of his arm. “It was a crime for it to rot in a drawer, collecting dust! Such a thing deserves use and care. Why, its motor had completely died, and it’s lucky I was knowledgeable enough to repair it.”

Vox paused before he slowly raised his screen to look at him, his expression uncertain. “You fixed it?”

“Of course!” he laughed, surprised by the question. “I’m not going to carry around a broken watch, now am I?” 

“You…?” He blinked, and then glanced back at the coat rack where Alastor’s coat was hung. 

The Radio Demon felt a flicker of panic. “Vox-”

But Vox had already teleported over to the coat rack and was reaching his hand into the pocket of Alastor’s coat. 

Now, Alastor didn’t typically care much for material possessions, particularly not those that were unnecessarily expensive. He’d never cared if he had much or little, but there had always been those few items that he held in high esteem. It had nothing to do with monetary value, or even their usefulness, just what they meant to him. And he had come to quite appreciate that pocket watch, even in the short time he’d had it, and he was going to have a few things to say if Vox tried to take it back from him just to throw it carelessly back into a drawer to be forgotten. 

He appeared at Vox’s side, curling his hand around the television demon’s wrist as he pulled the watch out of the pocket, along with the torn picture that had stuck to it. Alastor froze, while Vox blinked down at his past self in surprise, and huffed a staticky laugh. “And you always called me sentimental.” 

“That fell out of your picture when it broke,” Alastor said in a clipped voice, hating the embarrassed flush that rose in his cheeks. “I’d forgotten I put it in there.”

Vox looked over at him with a faint smirk. “You really are getting into the habit of stealing from me, aren’t you?” Then he glanced back at the picture with a thoughtful purse of his lips. “I can get you a more recent photo.” 

“I see your current face plenty,” he scoffed, and Vox’s face immediately twisted into a scowl. 

“Fine,” he muttered, denting the photograph with his claw as he grabbed it with his free hand to drop back into the coat pocket. “But you know, that’s a pretty bold claim when you were just pissed at me for spending more time with Valentino than you.” 

Anger flared in Alastor at the mention of Valentino and the reminder of the answer Vox still hadn’t given him. But he didn’t want to press just to hear Vox’s refusal, so he focused his irritation on a different facet of the television demon’s words. 

He tightened his grip on Vox’s wrist and lifted it, using the momentum to spin Vox and press his back to the door, the hand holding the pocket watch pinned beside his head. “Will you stop finding some deeper meaning in everything I say?” he snapped exasperatedly. “I said nothing about spending time with you! But I see your face regularly and I don’t need a picture to remind me of it. Not to mention, this face is already plastered all over Pentagram City. I took the old picture because I liked that face, and I wanted the memory.  

“And while we’re on the subject, I was not saying at the party that no one cared about you. But I think it’s ridiculous that you care so much about pandering to your fans, and I’m not going to stop mocking you for it. You mock me for my methods, and you don’t see me working myself into a tizzy over it! Not everything is the personal attack that you seem determined to make it out to be.”

Vox was staring at him with wide eyes and a slack expression, and Alastor took advantage of his distraction to reach up with his other hand and grab the watch from his loosened grip. “I’m keeping this,” he added firmly. 

He made to step back, but before he could manage, Vox suddenly grabbed hold of his waist with his free hand and pulled him flush against him. “Why do you want it so bad?” he demanded breathlessly, claws digging into his skin. “You know it was meant to symbolize you joining my team, right?”

Alastor’s smile widened, and he leaned into him. “My dear, that was never what it actually symbolized.” Almost subconsciously, he traced his thumb over the engraving as he spoke. Love, Vox.  

Vox’s screen darkened to red and he tried to look away, but Alastor was too close, and there was nowhere else to look. 

“And besides,” he continued. “You put a lot of thought into it, and it shows. It is beautiful. Truly a work of art. How could I not want it?”

Alastor had only a moment to register the way Vox’s screen glowed at the praise, before he was caught in a hungry kiss. He allowed it for a few seconds, and then he released Vox’s wrist and this time managed to successfully step away from him. He glanced down at the watch in his hand, brushing his thumb over the case reverently.

“I’m glad you like it,” Vox said quietly.

He said nothing in response, but his smile was closer to genuine as he slipped the watch back into his coat pocket.

“When did you take it?” Vox asked, the accusatory tone now completely gone from his voice and replaced with curiosity. 

“The day after the Overlord meeting.” He turned his back on him and retreated back toward the bed to retrieve his underwear. This was a conversation that he had not particularly wanted to have, and his emotions were already rather strained, at the moment. “I got bored waiting for you.” 

“Right…” he muttered, sounding lost in thought. Alastor had pulled on his boxers and had gone to retrieve the rest of his clothes from where they were folded on top of the dresser by the time Vox continued. “What all…? I mean, how much-”

“Yes,” Alastor curtly answered what he knew Vox was really asking, looking over his shoulder as he pulled on his pants. “I read them.”

Vox squeezed his eyes shut. “You were never supposed to see those.”

“Yes, that was apparent! I admit, I did regret it at first, but the letters were quite informative.” He slid his arms through the sleeves of his shirt and then turned around to lean back against the dresser. “I never did understand exactly what happened between us - why you changed.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You couldn’t put it together that I just got tired of the way you treated me?”

His eyes narrowed. “Those letters told a different story.”

Vox appeared genuinely confused at that, and Alastor couldn’t say he was surprised. He had already known that Vox was horribly out of touch with himself. Alastor rolled his eyes as he resigned himself to explain what should have been obvious. 

“It was quite clear that you couldn’t be satisfied with our friendship,” he began coolly. “And since you couldn’t have me romantically, you became fixated on working with me. You couldn’t take no for an answer, and every time I rejected you, you took it oh so personally. Because it was never just about the business move, it was about ‘having me’ in the only way you deemed to be feasible.” The shadows in the room began to darken, stretching out towards them both, as static rang palpably in the air, biting at the media demons’ skin, and Alastor’s words became harsh and grating, his teeth too large for his mouth. “You didn’t care that I didn’t know I wasn’t merely rejecting a business proposal - that I was rejecting you - you still assigned that deeper meaning to my words. And so you began reading more into everything I said, taking little comments to heart, when they had just been passing observations. Until you began to resent me.” 

Alastor’s form had begun to morph, limbs and antlers elongating and radio dials swinging in his eyes, overcome with rage he hadn’t even realized he felt. Rage that Vox had pushed him away. Rage that his friend had turned on him all because what Alastor had been willing to give hadn’t been enough for him. Despite the fact that Vox had always gotten so much more of him than anyone else did. But nothing was ever enough for Vox, was it?

“But it was never me who caused the rift to grow between us, old friend,” he snarled down at Vox, and the television stared up at him with eyes wide as saucers, his distressed mouth sinking into the bottom of his screen. “I treated you the same as I always had. But you became determined to paint me as a monster because it was easier to hate me than to want me. You had labeled me as your enemy, even before our falling out. Turning on me within our own friendship to punish me for not being what you wanted of me. My teasing banter was met with bitter jabs, and you blamed me for losing my patience. Yet still I allowed you to fester in my life like an infection, only to find that you were repaying me for all the years I stood by you by attempting to sabotage me, to back me into a corner. And you have the gall to c̸̢̏̿͊l̶͔͊̎a̶̡̺̬͐ì̴̼̜̈́͘m̴̺̌͋ ̶̫̈́̕Í̴͚͇̅ ̸̘̰͍̇̈́̍ r̶̀̋̽͜ú̸̺̻̲i̶̳̻̭̽̿ṉ̵̭̈́̎é̷̥̰d̴͉͕͙̍̓͘ ̵̼̔̇o̴͎̽̋ů̷̥̀̅r̵̢͉̙̈́̚ ̴̫̆͒f̶̻̅r̸̫̾i̶̥͋̃͗ͅe̴̥͍̳̐n̸̗͓̕d̴͔̉̋s̶̤̈́͂͑h̸͓̿i̴̭̙͇̊͋̀p̷̦̅̚ͅ!̵̻̼͙́̑” 

Vox looked like a terrified mouse pinned by the gaze of a hungry cat. Alastor loomed over him, hands braced just shy of where he stood, claws gouging into the floor. The Radio Demon’s chest was heaving with the weight of his emotions, and it was not lost on him that he had just been internally chastising Vox for being out of touch with what he felt. He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block it all out, and then startled when he felt something touch his face. 

Alastor’s eyes snapped open to see that Vox had stepped closer; the way that Alastor was leaned over allowing him to reach his hand dangerously close to his gaping maw, stroking his thumb over his cheek. And, oh, that wasn’t fear in Vox’s eyes. It was reverence.  

“You might be right,” Vox whispered. “But there was more to it. I just… I was tired of you seeing me as beneath you. And don’t even try to tell me you didn’t.”

Amusement managed to twist its way into Alastor’s features as he shrank back down to his normal size, standing in front of Vox with his face still in his hand. “Darling, I see everyone as beneath me. But you less so than most.” 

Surprise alighted his face at that, and a tentative smile spread over his screen. “You mean that?”

Alastor sighed and he draped his arms loosely over Vox’s shoulders. “Why is it, I wonder, that when I deliver what should be a clearly playful jab, you immediately take it to heart, and yet when I offer you praise, you question it?” 

Vox blinked. “That… sounds like something neither of us wants to take the time to unpack.”

He chuckled in quiet agreement, feeling the dregs of his anger begin to wash away. He knew that Vox was just as likely to apologize for any past misdeeds and Alastor himself was, but he wasn’t arguing, wasn’t deflecting blame. He’d heard him. Alastor supposed that would be enough.

Vox’s hands trailed down, running over Alastor’s chest, framed by his open shirt. “I’ll break things off with Val, if that’s really what you want,” he murmured, gaze searching his face. 

Alastor’s smile inched higher in genuine delight as he was finally able to fully relax. “It is,” he assured, leaning more of his weight against the television demon as a reward. 

“Okay,” he sighed with a resolute nod. “I guess it is kinda gratifying that you don’t want to share me, either.”

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses enough to realize that.” He allowed his lips to ghost over Vox’s casing and his hands to run down his chest, gripping tightly once they reached his waist. Vox was his. All his. As he should be.

*

Vox ended up ordering breakfast for them both because it seemed a shame to waste the morning when he’d already canceled his meetings, especially when Alastor didn’t seem particularly intent on leaving yet. They were both partially dressed - Vox in his blue slacks and white button up, and Alastor in the black slacks and button-up that he had worn to the party the night before - and they sat on the couch as they enjoyed the eggs benedict and bacon that Vox had had an employee deliver to his room. 

“That watch,” Vox eventually voiced one of the (admittedly many) thoughts that had been running circles in his head. “Do you always carry it with you?” he asked slowly, trying to contain the hope from leaking into his voice. It was stupid, but the idea of Alastor willingly carrying around something from him (sure, he’d never officially given it to him, but he was still who had gotten it for him) was horribly appealing. 

Alastor’s tongue flicked over his lip to catch a bit of egg as he tilted his head towards Vox with a small smirk. “Yes, I do.” 

There was no stopping the smile that spread over his screen at that, and unable to help himself, he leaned in closer with a faint leer. “Do you think of me when you look at it?” he taunted, despite knowing full well that he would be crushed if the answer was no. 

Something that Alastor knew full well, as evidenced by the way his smile grew and his eyes danced with amusement. He leaned into Vox’s side, lips brushing against his screen. “Of course, mon cher,” he hummed lowly. “Why, I’ll even pull it out to look at it sometimes when I think of you.”

Vox shuddered, and his motions were sharp and desperate as he jerked his head to the side and pulled Alastor into a frantic kiss. The Radio Demon chuckled against his lips, but Vox really didn’t care that it was at his expense. He pushed Alastor back onto the couch and fell on top of him without breaking the kiss. 

They stayed like that for a little while, before Alastor pulled away with a parting nip of Vox’s lip. “What does the rest of your day look like?” he asked with idle curiosity, his bands brushing over Vox’s back and sides. 

Vox licked his lips, his instincts and knowledge of the other demon telling him that despite the way it sounded, there was a right answer to the question. “Nothing I can’t put off for another day if you wanted to stick around for a bit.”

Alastor grinned and pressed another light kiss to Vox’s lips. “Lovely!”

And so they spent the day together. They mostly sat on the couch and talked about their afterlives - their projects, gossip they’d heard, little occurrences they knew the other would enjoy. It was a lot like the way they used to hang out, just with more touching. And Vox wasn’t even the only one initiating those touches - fuck, he’d say at least half of them were Alastor. 

They also ordered in for lunch, but come dinner time, Alastor insisted that he wanted something homemade. So, that was how they ended up in the kitchen with Alastor complaining about the lack of quality ingredients. 

“Well, I normally just order in,” Vox defended, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter behind him. “And if I do make something here, I want it to be quick and easy.”

Alastor made a face at one of the frozen meals he’d pulled out. “Yes, that’s evident. I don’t suppose you’d mind contributing an arm or a leg for a dish?” he added as he returned the meal to the freezer and closed the door. 

“Hilarious,” he snorted, and then paused, his screen pinching into a frown. “At least, I hope you’re joking.” 

He didn’t answer; instead walking over to look in the pantry, and emerging a moment later with his hands full. “I suppose I can make due with rice and beans,” he tutted as he set the ingredients down. “But you really need to get some decent ingredients.” 

“Fine, I’ll get you a company card and send you to the store for me,” he suggested, enjoying Alastor’s clear annoyance at the idea of being reduced to grocery shopping . “You’d make a good little errand boy, I’m sure.”

“Try it, my dear, and I can promise you won’t like what I bring back.”

Vox just laughed as he stepped up behind Alastor to wind his arms around his waist. “Just write me up a list, then, and I’ll give it to my assistant.”

“Better,” he hummed approvingly, and Vox pressed a kiss to his cheek.

A sharp snort sounded from the kitchen’s entryway. “Well, ain’t this just adorable.”

Vox glanced towards the doorway without removing himself from Alastor, who had gone still in his arms, eyeing the youngest Vee warily. “Hey, Vel. You’ve met Alastor, right?” 

“In passin’.” She wandered forward to take a seat at one of the barstools, across the island from the stove that they were standing at. “So what, you just paradin’ your little boy toy around the tower now? Aren’t you worried Val will ask questions?” she asked with an air of disinterest, her eyes not leaving her phone.

“Val already caught him in my room this morning,” Vox explained, splaying his hand over Alastor’s stomach as the deer demon slowly returned to preparing dinner. “He knows we’re involved.”

She glanced up from her phone with a raised eyebrow. “Does he know you own his soul?”

“Course not,” he answered casually as Alastor’s hands again stilled over the saucepan. 

“I wasn’t aware that Vox had shared that detail with anyone,” he hummed, his tone deceptively casual when Vox could feel the tension radiating off of him. 

“I didn’t,” he assured. “She figured it out.”

“Yeah, when he came to be for fuckin’ relationship advice,” Velvetted added with a scoff and a roll of her eyes.

“Velvette!” Vox snapped, his screen turning red, while Alastor threw his head back in a laugh. 

“Oh, that’s just adorable.” He leaned back enough to be able to kiss the side of Vox’s screen, and he relaxed back into his arms as he returned to stirring the spices. 

“Fuck you both,” Vox muttered bitterly, even as he nuzzled into the side of Alastor’s head because he just couldn’t get enough of him. Especially not now that the Radio Demon seemed to be welcoming his touches. It was intoxicating. 

Velvette eyed the both of them thoughtfully. “All of Hell’s talkin’ about you two, by the way. They ate that shit up last night.” 

“Of course they did. We look great together.” He smirked and gave Alastor’s waist a squeeze, earning an amused eye roll in response. “Next party I attend, I’m definitely gonna have you as my arm candy all night.”  

The annoyed sound that Alastor made in the back of his throat would have been a lot more convincing if Vox couldn’t feel the way his tail wiggled happily between them. And that was just too fucking cute. 

“Speakin’ of things that’ll piss Valentino off,” Velvette shot Vox a mildly accusatory look before pulling up something on her phone and sliding it across the counter to him. “What do you want me to do about these sorts of posts? I can silence them, but I didn’ know if you’d like the discourse.” 

Vox removed one of his arms from around Alastor and picked up the phone to get a closer look. The post Velvette had pulled up featured two pictures of him side-by-side - one where he was dancing with Alastor, and one where he was dancing with Valentino. Vox had a wide smile fixed to his screen in both images, but one was his usual smile that was always plastered to his face while he was in public - bright, welcoming, confident, and to the discerning eye, empty. It wasn’t necessarily that those first three traits weren’t present in the picture where he was dancing with Alastor, but there was a softer edge to it all, something in his eyes that made it look more genuine because, well, it was - and the people of Hell had noticed. 

The post itself was analyzing the differences of how happy Vox looked dancing with Alastor versus how he looked as though he was just going through the motions with Valentino. Scrolling down through the comments, they were full of discourse. Some people latched excitedly onto the idea that there was something going on between Vox and Alastor, others argued that these pictures were taken out of context and weren’t sufficient evidence, and everyone was arguing over who Vox should be with - Alastor, Valentino, both, or neither. 

A low chuckled rumbled out of Alastor as he peered at the phone. “What apt observations.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Vox muttered as he slid the phone back across to Velvette. “Leave them up.” He licked his lips nervously. “I’m breaking up with Val, anyway.” That prompted another flick of Alastor’s tail, almost making the coming uncomfortable conversation worth it.

“What’d he do this time?” Velvette sighed exasperatedly as she plucked up her phone again.

“No, Vel,” he corrected firmly, his mouth a thin line. “I’m breaking up with him. Permanently.” 

Her phone clattered back down to the counter, and her wide eyes shot up to him before sliding to the side to observe Alastor’s satisfied smirk. “Ya’ know he’s not your boyfriend, right?” she snapped, waving a hand at Alastor as her attention shifted back to her business partner. “He’s a soul on your chain.”

Vox scowled. Of course he knew that. But at the same time, Alastor was more than just another soul on his chain. He didn’t know exactly what they were, but who needed labels, anyway? “I don’t need your opinion. I made my decision and I’m sticking to it.”

“Fine.” She threw her arms up in the air. “But I’m not dealin’ with Valentino in the aftermath. It’s your mess, you can clean it up.”

“Don’t I always?” he asked dryly, and she flipped him off in response. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle, dear,” Alastor encouraged as he turned down the temperature of the burner and covered the pan with the lid.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. As if Alastor would actually care if it was, so long as he got Vox all to himself. And again, Vox had no room to talk. 

Velvette regarded them both with a small frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. After a few seconds, she spoke. “Wait, Vee, didn’ you say you had things to take care of in Stygian City today?”

He gave her a slightly sheepish look. “I’ll worry about that later this week.”

Alastor turned around, facing Vox with an amused smile. “Oh dear, did I disrupt your plans?” he asked with obviously feigned concern and barely suppressed glee. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I fully intend to send you to scout out the city to make up for it,” Vox assured with a grin. “Just need to get a better lay of the land. But don’t worry, you can stick to the shadows so no one will know you’re doing work for me.” 

He gave an easy shrug as he leaned back against the counter. “That shouldn’t be a problem. What do you plan to do with the city, anyway?”

“Vacation destination!” He threw his arms wide as he proudly shared his plans. “It’s gonna be the Las Vegas of Hell, baby. Clean it up, add in all the depraved entertainment demons crave - it’ll be unrecognizable!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Sin City in Hell? Seems a little redundant, don’t you think?” he pointed out with a grin. 

Vox immediately bristled at the dig, automatically going on the defensive. Of fucking course Alastor immediately had to mock… wait. He scanned the deer demon’s expression, but there was no trace of malice there, only amusement sparkling in his eyes. Oh. This was probably what Alastor had been talking about earlier regarding him taking things too personally, turning playful ribbing into an attack that he needed to respond harshly to.

He let his shoulders relax and a teasing grin spread over his screen. “No more redundant than a fake filter over a fake accent, Mr. Radio Demon.”

Alastor laughed, his smile delighted, and… this was how things used to be between them, wasn’t it? Lighthearted banter, Alastor allowing Vox to get away with jabs he would suffer from none other, and responding in kind. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the intricacies and importance of audio branding.”

“Oh yeah, it must suck when your voice is the only thing you have going for you!” Vox shot back, caging Alastor in with his arms as he braced his hands on the counter on either side of him.

“Says the man who drools at the sight of me!” He lifted his hand to run his thumb over Vox’s lip, while his other hand reached out to grip his hip and pull him close.

“Touche,” he allowed, swiping his tongue over his lips before nipping at Alastor’s thumb.

The Radio Demon’s grin was unmistakably genuine as he shifted his hand to hold the side of Vox’s screen and then pulled him into a kiss, deep and unhurried. And somehow, it felt like a reward. 

“And here I thought there’d be less PDA than there was with Val,” Velvette muttered, and Vox and Alastor broke apart with a laugh. 

*

Alastor returned to the hotel that evening feeling content. More content than he’d felt in a long time, he reflected as he changed into his usual clothes. The day had certainly gotten off to a rough start, but it had ended positively delightfully. Vox had agreed to be his, he was ending things with Valentino, and that bitter defensiveness that had plagued his television demon for so long seemed to be finally slipping away. There was still the matter of Vox owning his soul that was certainly less than ideal, but if someone had to hold his contract, he supposed that Vox wasn’t the worst option. 

After a little while, Alastor decided to journey down to the hotel bar. He could do with a nightcap to celebrate a successful day. 

Husk was still tending the bar, and he raised his eyebrows at Alastor as he took a seat. “Where the fuck have you been?” 

Since he was in a pleasant mood, he let the attitude slide with no more than a raised eyebrow. “V Tower.”

The cat demon’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you wanna give me a heads up next time? It’s a lot easier to cover for you when I have some forewarning here.” 

Well, he supposed that was a fair point. “Of course, my good man! My apologies. My staying there today had been a bit of a spur of the moment decision.” His smile flattening a bit, he pulled his cellular telephone out of his pocket and passed it across to a wide-eyed Husk. “Put your number in there, and I can inform you should something like this happen again.”

“You have a phone,” he noted in surprise, even as he set to adding himself as a contact. 

“Vox insisted,” he sighed.

Husk finished typing in his number and passed the device back to Alastor, who hastily shoved the phone back into his pocket as the front door of the hotel opened. The fewer people who knew he owned a phone, the better, in his opinion. 

Angel Dust sauntered up to the bar and took a seat a couple stools down from Alastor with an egregious sigh. Husk finished pouring a rye for Alastor, and then set to preparing another drink that he placed in front of the porn star. “Rough day?” 

Angel snorted a laugh and downed half his drink before speaking. “Valentino was in a fuckin’ mood all damn day.” 

Alastor’s ears perked up at the name and swiveled to pay attention, even as he kept his gaze directed forward. 

“An’ then Vox came down towards the end, and they got into it.” He waved his hand airily as he explained, another hand still gripping his glass, and his other two curled around his middle. “Couldn’ make out what they were fightin’ about, but I could hear them screamin’ from Val’s dressing room. Guess they probably broke up again, which is always so fun.” He groaned and threw back the rest of his drink. “Glad the shoot was almost over, an’ I got the fuck outta there before Val could think to make me stay.”

Alastor’s smirk was concealed behind his glass as he took a sip of his whiskey. Well, Vox hadn’t wasted any time at all. How delightful.  

“Say, smiles.” Angel twisted to face him. “Don’ s’pose you know anything? There are all kinds of rumors flyin’ ‘bout you an’ the big vee right now.”

Husk eyed Alastor warily as he slid Angel a fresh drink, and the Radio Demon’s smile hitched up. “Oh?” he lowered his glass enough to ask casually. “And what might those rumors be?” 

“That you got all cozy with him at his party last night,” the spider demon rattled off without hesitation. “Some people are sayin’ you an’ him are an item now.”

“Interesting,” he hummed before he swiftly finished off his drink and rose to his feet. “Well, I’m off to bed. Give Valentino my condolences.” He tipped his head mockingly and began to turn away, intending to leave the conversation on that cryptic note. 

“Wait, boss,” Husk stopped him, his frown deeper than usual as he grabbed a sealed envelope from behind the bar and held it out to him. “This came for you today.” The way his eyes combed over the deer demon’s face searchingly clearly said that he wanted to ask more, but he was smart enough to refrain. 

Alastor took the envelope without a word, and then traveled through the shadows back to his room before opening it curiously. It was an announcement of an emergency Overlord meeting that was to take place the next day. Such a thing wasn’t all that unusual, really, but Alastor paused on the last line of the letter. 

Under no circumstances should you mention this meeting to ANYONE, including other Overlords. 

Well. This should be interesting.

Chapter Text

Alastor arrived right on time for the emergency Overlord meeting and was surprised to find the room fuller than usual. There were several Overlords in Pride who didn’t bother attending these meetings, or attended them scarcely, but today it seemed as though everyone was in attendance. Or almost everyone. 

His gaze swept the room, taking in all the usual suspects, as well as the more reclusive demons. Unless he was forgetting someone, this was every Overlord in Hell, sans three glaring absences. None of the Vees were anywhere to be seen. 

“Alastor,” Carmilla greeted with a nod as he slowly settled into a seat beside Rosie. “I’m glad you could make it. Now that everyone is here, we can begin.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed by a fraction, suddenly getting a much clearer picture as to what this meeting would be regarding. Because why else would the Vees be absent when Carmilla had clearly pushed for total attendance? He didn’t have to wait long before his suspicions were confirmed. 

“We all here agree that Vox’s jump in power is detrimental to demonkind. He is brash, impulsive, arrogant, and will abuse his power. Mephistopheles was among the strongest of us, and with his souls, taking Vox on one-on-one would be a death-sentence for most of us, and an ill-advised risk for the rest. But I know full well that teaming up will mean fighting over who deals the killing blow and inherits his souls, quite possibly to our own downfall.”

Tension thrummed through Alastor, making him rigid in his seat. She was talking about someone here inheriting his soul. And while everything Carmilla was saying was most certainly true, she wouldn’t have called this meeting if she didn’t have some sort of plan. Where was she going with this?

Rosie subtly reached out beneath the table, giving Alastor’s thigh a brief, reassuring pat. 

“So, I propose that we enter into a contract,” Carmilla continued. “We work together to take Vox out, and then his souls will be divided equally between us all. Even with as strong as he is, he won’t have any chance against all of us, especially with the added element of surprise.”

Alastor’s lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes flicked between the faces of those around the table, ranging from thoughtful to positively bloodthirsty. He could excuse those who were being pragmatic, but he took careful note of everyone who was so clearly excited at the prospect of killing his picture box. Perhaps it was time to start targeting Overlords again. He’d only stopped due to Mephisto’s orders, after all, and he highly doubted that Vox would have the same qualms, especially if he was targeting his enemies. But he was getting distracted. There was a far more pressing matter at hand.

“The souls will be divided at random?” Rosie clarified. “I’m sure Mephisopheles had quite the variety, so I would need confirmation that this division of souls won’t be stacked in anyone’s favor.” Alastor knew what she was really asking, and he appreciated her dearly for it - if this plan succeeded, just where would his soul end up? Even if he had no intention to allow Carmilla to prevail in this, it was still good to know.

Carmilla inclined her head respectfully. “Of course. The contract will be worded so that the souls are divided equally in both number and power. Furthermore, if anyone knows of any particular souls they would like to claim, they may specify such. Each person will have a fully confidential page of the contract that will only be visible to them where they can write down such requests, in case you do not wish to disclose the souls you are inheriting. If there are any duplicate requests, they will be settled in alphabetical order.” 

Alastor’s heart stopped. He could get his soul back. Just like that. Guaranteed. Rosie was the only other person who knew Vox owned his soul, and even if someone made a remarkably lucky guess and wrote his name down, he would have first choice of the souls he laid claim to. His freedom - the very thing he’d been working towards for years - was within his grasp. All he had to do was sign his name, and then let the others kill Vox. 

“So, is there an actual plan to kill the prick?” Luz demanded, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “Or are we supposed to just sign our names to this thing and hope for the best?” 

His eyes narrowed at the younger Overlord. He had never particularly cared for her. From the moment she’d begun attaining power and had sought to suck up to Vox, something about her had rubbed him the wrong way. She’d ended up with a grudge against the both of them - Vox for dismissing her, and Alastor for supposedly encouraging him to do so. It was no surprise that she appeared to be perhaps the most eager here at the idea of killing Vox.

“I would assume coming up with a plan is a part of this meeting,” Alastor chided, and she lowered her sunglasses to fix him with her luminescent glare. 

“And why are you here, anyway?” she sneered. “Seemed like you and your old flame were getting pretty cozy at his party the other night. You sure you want him dead?” 

He scoffed, even as something unpleasant churned in his stomach. “He’s hardly an ‘old flame’ - I think you need to check your sources! And as I said at our last meeting, starting a fight with Vox right now is more trouble than it’s worth. It’s far better to just humor him, so that he’s out of your hair quicker. So I made my appearance, entertained him for a couple dances, and then left - all relatively painless! But I assure you, I am quite intrigued by Carmilla’s little proposal here.”

“I would think that of everyone here, Alastor is likely who wants Vox dead the most,” Carmilla chimed in matter-of-factly. “But if you don’t wish to work with him, you don’t have to be included in this, Luz. You can sign an agreement to remain silent and go on your way.” 

The light Luz naturally put off flickered as she straightened in her seat. “No, I want in,” she immediately protested. 

“Good. I’ve drawn up a contract proposal for everyone to review and give their feedback on. And, as Luz so helpfully pointed out, we will need to come up with a more concrete plan. Alastor, as you know Vox best, I would like your input on the matter.” 

Alastor’s eyes fell to the table, his smile feeling tense, even as he projected an air of indifference. “I should be able to lure him somewhere alone,” he said slowly. “Thanks to my humoring him, I don’t believe he would suspect anything. However, Vox has ample experience fighting me. He knows my methods, and now has several advantages. When it comes to a fight with him, as loath as I am to admit it, I believe I would be the worst choice for it.” It was as good of an excuse as he could give without spelling out that he was actually incapable of fighting Vox. 

“Then do you think you can distract him for long enough for the rest of us to make our move?” Carmilla pressed. “He tends to lose focus when you’re involved, and we can use that.” 

He looked up at her and nodded, his smile completely concealing his inner turmoil. “Easily.”

*

“I don’t care if you think it’s impossible,” Vox growled, bracing his hands on his head of production’s desk as he towered over him. “Figure out a way to make it happen, and get it done. Or I’ll replace you with someone who can.”

The small, jellyfish demon gave a jerky nod. “Y-yes, sir.”

“You have two days to get me the plans,” he instructed sharply before he turned on his heel and strode from the room. 

Why was he constantly surrounded by incompetent morons that gave up at the first hurdle they encountered? Nothing was impossible - one just had to be determined enough to push through the obstacles; and in Hell, there were plenty of those. If Vox had given up every time someone had told him that what he wanted was impossible, he would still be pushing papers for someone else, instead of being one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell. And now his current obstacle was apparently that all of his employees were too inept to give anything but lackluster job performance. 

Of course, Vox did own at least one soul that shared his resolve to never give up once he put his mind to something, and he was surprised when he checked his phone to find a message from him. Alastor never texted him outside of responding with the bare minimum to Vox’s messages. Of course, things had changed between them, but it was still a pleasant surprise. 

Vox found himself unable to stop smiling as he pulled up the message. ‘I need to see you. Come to my room.’ 

He blinked and read the message again. Holy shit. Alastor was inviting him over to his space. He’d always been so very protective of his own space, reluctant to share it with anyone else. Even when they’d been good friends, they had almost always gone over to Vox’s whenever they went back to one of their homes, despite the fact that Alastor would complain about his decor choices the entire time. He said that he valued his privacy. So, of course, Vox had always been eager for any glimpse behind the Radio Demon’s walls that he managed to get. And that hadn’t changed. 

His smile sharpened hungrily, and he condensed into electricity to enter into the phone. It took little effort to make the call from inside the device, and then he rode the wavelengths to his destination. The call was answered on the second ring.

“You missing me that bad, baby?” he purred when he materialized in front of Alastor, fixing him with a smug smile as he leaned on the back of a nearby armchair. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Vox rolled his eyes and straightened up, casting his curious gaze around the room. At first, it was about what he would expect - all deep reds, outdated furniture, and decor that would be more suited for an ancient, haunted mansion. But then he turned around and saw an entire bayou stretching surely beyond the boundaries of the room, but somehow seeming not at all out of place. That was a trick he hadn’t even known Alastor was capable of. It made Vox wonder just many more secrets the Radio Demon had. And he couldn’t wait to learn all of them.

“Well, what’s the occasion, then?” Vox asked as he turned back to face him. 

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Alastor assured, his smile unreadable. “First, allow me to get us some refreshments. Any requests from the bar?” 

He frowned slightly. Something seemed… off. With the whole, unusual situation, and with Alastor, in particular. There was a sort of nervous energy radiating from the deer demon that seemed wrong coming from him. “You know what I like,” he answered slowly. 

“Of course!” His smile hitched a little higher and he inclined his head. “I might be a minute. The risk of being pulled into a conversation at the bar is unfortunately rather high here. Do make yourself at home.” 

Vox’s frown deepened as Alastor dissolved into shadow before he could say another word. What was going on, here? The last time Alastor had acted this weird had been when he’d been preparing to negotiate his ‘cooperation’. They were kind of past that now, though. Maybe this was some kind of prank? Vox wouldn’t put it past him. 

He sighed as his eyes roamed around the room. Well, this did give him time to explore. And if Alastor came back and caught him, he could always use the same ‘you told me to make myself at home’ excuse that he had pulled on him the other day. 

He wandered over to the bookshelf first, but there wasn’t much surprising there. A couple radios, an alligator skull, and many books that Vox already knew that Alastor liked. So, he moved on to the desk. There was a box full of mail that he curiously thumbed through, but most of it seemed generic and unimportant - notices, official letters from Carmilla, correspondence with Rosie…. He placed them back in the box and pulled open the top drawer, which contained… a contract? Today’s date at the top of the document immediately caught his attention, and he picked it up to flip through it. 

His heart stopped, his stomach clenched, and it felt like the entire room was spinning around him. What. The. Fuck?

His hands trembled as he flipped through the pages to read and then reread to confirm that his mind wasn’t making shit up. It wasn’t. He was holding a legal agreement to kill him. An agreement between the other Overlords to work together to kill him. And Alastor had a copy.

But of-fucking-course he had a copy! It was spelled out right there in ink - Vox’s souls would be divided between everyone, and they could request the ones they wanted. What had he just been thinking about Alastor being one of the few people he knew who would never give up on what he wanted? Of course he hadn’t given up on getting his soul back, and now he had the perfect opportunity to do so. Fuck, he bet Alastor hadn’t even fucking hesitated to condemn him to death. He had probably immediately volunteered to… to lure Vox where they wanted him, somewhere out of his element where he would be alone, unprotected, and unprepared. It would be the perfect plan. The back of his neck itched, as though he was being watched.

“What are you looking at?” Alastor’s curious voice rang out behind him.

Vox took a deep, shuddering breath, suppressing the urge to vomit. “What is this?” he demanded, his voice thick with unshed tears as he spun around and waved the papers in Alastor’s face, clenching them tightly in his fist. 

Alastor blinked slowly, but his expression gave nothing away. “Oh, dear,” he hummed, and he met Vox’s eyes unabashedly. “Did I leave that somewhere you could find it? How careless of me.” He side-stepped around the television demon, ignoring the way his mouth had fallen open, to set two glasses of whiskey down on the desk. He plucked the contract out of Vox’s hand as he stepped back, and it immediately dissolved into shadow. 

“You… wanted me to find it,” Vox realized, staring at the other in disbelief. 

His smile grew wider, but he said nothing. Because he couldn’t. Carmilla was no fool; she wouldn’t have gotten a bunch of Overlords together to plot his death without making sure said Overlords’ tongues were tied on the matter. Even if Vox were to order Alastor to tell the truth right now, it would be of no use if he’d signed something vowing he wouldn’t reveal certain details. But that didn’t mean there weren’t work-arounds. 

“You signed a contract agreeing to help kill me,” he started with the direct approach, his voice breaking a little. Because even if he’d let him find it, Alastor had still apparently agreed…  

“No,” Alastor denied firmly. “I did not.” 

Vox blinked, his heart aching as hope began to seep in. “But… you refused? Then why do you have a copy?” He couldn’t imagine Carmilla just handing out copies of the contract to everyone, even those who declined to participate in her little murder party. 

“I did not refuse anything,” he answered slowly, choosing his words carefully. “That drawer is where I keep documents in need of review.” 

Oh. It was a draft. Carmilla must have given all of the Overlords copies to review, and just had them sign a gag order for the time being. That was a relief - it meant Vox still had some time before he’d have to start looking over his shoulder for a bunch of Overlords to gang up on him. And it also made things simpler. 

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Vox began, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the desk. “What would you do if a bunch of Overlords decided to team up and target me?” 

“Hmm…” Alastor’s eyes danced at the exploited loophole. “I suppose the first order of business would be ensuring they lose the element of surprise. If you were to show up and call them out, they may well become too afraid to challenge you.” 

He raised his eyebrows skeptically. “How many Overlords are we talking, here?” 

He tilted his head to the side. “How many do you know that like you?”

“Just Val and Vel, and sometimes you…” he trailed off with a growing sense of dread. “It’s everyone else? Al, I can’t fight all of them, and they know it. Element of surprise, or not.” 

“Which is why-” Alastor broke off with a frustrated growl. “You won’t be alone,” he finally said after a minute. “And they can only beat you if they work together.”  

Vox nodded as it clicked what Alastor was trying to tell him. The contracts hadn’t been signed yet, which meant that there was no active agreement to split his souls. It would be every demon for themselves, and none of them would want to risk that. Especially if Vox had Valentino, Velvette, and maybe even Alastor standing beside him. But then another thought struck him, and his eyes narrowed. 

“And how do I know this isn’t a trap? Maybe this is all just part of the plan to kill me - leading me to the slaughter.” Fuck, as much as he hated it, it made more sense for Alastor to be on board with this whole killing him scheme. He was first and foremost an opportunist, and he would be unlikely to let whatever sentimentality he had recently developed for Vox get in his way. “I mean, why would you help me, when you can get your soul back, and a bunch of other souls to boot?” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow and he leaned forward, bracing his hands on the desk and caging Vox in. “Do you really think I would just let someone else kill you?” he asked reasonably. “I would never allow anyone else to harm, let alone destroy, something that’s mine.” His hand skated up his arm to caress the side of his screen. “And especially not my favorite toy,” he added in a low pur. 

Vox melted into his touch. He hadn’t tried to spin some sappy bullshit about caring about him, hadn’t just told him what he believed Vox would want to hear. No, that answer was undeniably Alastor, which meant that it was more than likely the truth. Which meant… holy shit. He was really choosing to protect Vox.  

He shot forward to capture Alastor’s lips, kissing him fiercely, gratefully. And Alastor responded in kind, pressing him back against the desk until Vox was forced to sit on top of it, the deer demon slotting between his legs. 

Alastor pulled back a minute later with a last nip at Vox’s lip. “Are you doing anything a week from today?” he asked casually.

Vox took a deep breath, the reality of the situation settling back in. “I guess I am now. I’ll make sure Valentino and Velvette will be there, too. But…” He shook his head as his smile slipped into a worried frown. “I still don’t like it. If it comes to a fight, we’re not guaranteed to win.”

“The idea is for it not to come to that,” he reasoned smoothly. “We just need to make the risk too great for them.”

“And if the four of us isn’t enough?” he pressed. “I really hope you’ve got an ace up your sleeve. Apart from yourself.” 

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the comment, but Vox wasn’t going to explain it to him. Alastor liked being special and unique - telling him that he wasn’t the only one who felt the way he did about sex wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And Vox didn’t particularly feel like dealing with the fallout of that. Thankfully, Alastor let it slide. 

“I do have… something,” he sighed reluctantly. “Though I would prefer to only reveal it as a last resort, as it’s an advantage I’d rather no one know I have.” 

“Oh?” Vox raised an eyebrow curiously. “What is it?”

Alastor’s smile compressed into a thin line and his eyes darted away. “Charlie owes me a favor. If I were to threaten to call in said favor to protect you - well I doubt anyone would want to go through the Princess of Hell to get to you. Especially when she is unlikely to stand alone, considering everyone who would rush to protect her, her father included.” 

His eyes blew wide. Fuck. Yeah, that should do it. Assuming the other Overlords believed him, of course. “And if they call your bluff?” 

His eyes narrowed as they returned to him. “I don’t bluff. I imagine all I’d have to do is call in the favor, and then everyone would be quick to stand down.” 

Vox’s screen glitched, his mouth falling open. “You would call in your favor for me?”  

He shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. “I highly doubt it will come to that. And it’s not as though I need it for anything in particular! I had originally intended it to help get me out of my deal with Mephisto, but I knew from the start that the same tactics wouldn’t work on you. I’d, of course, prefer to keep my favor set aside for a rainy day, but if I need to use it for this, I suppose it’s not the worst thing.” 

“Al, you… you’re amazing,” he breathed, hearts replacing the pupils in his eyes. “I love you,” he admitted aloud for the first time. He knew Alastor knew - had seen it written on his screen - but it was still different actually saying it, and he tensed instinctually, prepared for mocking.

Alastor’s smile grew impossibly wide, and he once again leaned his weight against Vox. “And I love that you do, mon cher,” he purred happily, and Vox laughed delightedly as he wrapped his arms around Alastor’s waist. 

“And here I always thought you would laugh at me if I said it,” he mused aloud, tracing a hand over his back. It felt really… freeing to finally be able to voice what he thought he’d forever have to keep bottled up. And to know that Alastor wanted to hear him say it was absolutely mindblowing. 

Alastor chuckled and leaned his head against the side of his screen. “Well, I can hardly blame you for it! I am quite the catch.” 

Vox hugged the deer demon tighter against him as he dissolved into laughter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m so lucky to have you,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes once his laughter subsided. “Oh, speaking of -” he pulled back slightly to be able to look at the other demon “- I broke up with Val last night.” Which had gone… about as well as he had expected. But knowing Valentino, he would pout for a few days and then get over it.

“I heard,” he enthused gleefully, and then added upon seeing Vox’s confusion, “Our resident porn star overheard your little spat and happened to mention it last night.” 

He couldn’t help but scowl slightly at the mention of Angel Dust, coupled with the lovely reminder that the whore was a regular part of Alastor’s life, too. At least he knew that Alastor had absolutely no interest in him, but still. It wasn’t fun to think about the two of them spending any amount of time together. What, was it just some joke of Hell that every man he was involved with just had to have some kind of relationship with the porn star? If so, it wasn’t a particularly funny one. “Of course he did.”

Alastor’s index finger traced over his frown with a touch of amusement to his expression. “Apologies, if you were wanting to break the news yourself. But I was happy to hear it.” 

“It’s fine.” Vox forced a smile and then leaned forward to capture Alastor’s lips in a brief kiss. “So, why don’t you tell me what I can do to show my gratitude?” he murmured against his lips. “My default is to offer a blowjob, but I know you might not be into that,” he added with a chuckle. 

“Hmm…” He caught the bottom of Vox’s screen and pulled him back into a proper kiss, sucking his tongue into his mouth and pulling a low groan out of the television demon. He ended it too soon, pulling back just enough to whisper, “I must confess, I am curious how this tongue of yours would feel elsewhere.”

A spark jumped between Vox’s antennae, and he clutched at Alastor’s waist, holding onto him tightly. Concerns about Overlords plotting his death vanished from his mind as his entire focus zeroed in on Radio Demon standing between his legs. “Fuck, please let me taste you. I will worship your cock and make you feel so good, baby, I promise.” 

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up. “I could do without that kind of talk.”

“Noted,” he agreed immediately, but his smile grew more salacious. “What would you prefer? That I want to choke on your dick? That I will suck your cock so good you’ll forget your own name? Or would you rather I beg you to fuck my mouth? Use me, and-”

A hand slapped over his mouth. “Right now I will agree to whatever it takes to get you to stop talking!” 

Vox fixed him with a shit-eating smirk the moment the hand was removed. “Well, I can’t talk if my mouth is full.”

Alastor gave an exasperated groan and tugged him over to the bed. 

*

Vox’s tongue certainly did not disappoint. Alastor didn’t think he was in any danger of forgetting his own name, as Vox had threatened, but the television demon was indeed shockingly akin to ‘worshiping’ in his approach. And it was quite enthusiastic worship, at that. Vox seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, eagerly wrapping his lips around Alastor’s cock and tracing his tongue over him, first teasingly lapping at the head and then curling that tongue around him in a way that made Alastor see stars. In Alastor’s brief experience being on the other side of this activity, he hadn’t found it nearly as enjoyable as Vox was currently making it out to be, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Even better, Vox knew what Alastor liked, and his claws mercilessly digging into the deer demon’s hips and the electricity sparking around his tongue were the perfect juxtaposition for the pleasure washing through Alastor’s body, grounding him even as he delighted in it. 

Alastor gasped when Vox’s tongue did something particularly delightful, and as his body arched off the bed, Vox pumped a current of electricity through his hips that morphed Alastor’s gasp into a cry. “Fuck,” he panted, and Vox chuckled around his cock, not giving him so much as a second’s reprieve as he swallowed it to the hilt. 

It took Alastor a minute of being unable to do anything but clutch desperately at the covers beneath him, helpless to Vox’s ministrations, before he remembered how to move his appendages. He lifted his head first, only to immediately meet Vox’s hungry eyes, his screen angled to be able to watch his expressions as he sucked at his cock. He then lifted his hand and wrapped it around both of Vox’s antennae, prompting a low moan that had Alastor’s head dropping back to the bed at the vibrations. 

He didn’t release his antennae, only gripping them tighter as Vox’s name spilled from his mouth amidst staticky, incoherent groans. He was rewarded with a pleased hum and another shock of electricity, coupled with Vox licking a line up the underside of his cock. 

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. As it turned out, not much.

Alastor let out a strangled growl and his hands shot down to grip either side of Vox’s screen, holding him steady so that he could thrust into his mouth. Vox groaned in response, and Alastor managed a couple more thrusts before he clutched the television demon to him and spilled his release down his throat. Vox didn’t even attempt to pull away, just emitting a low whine as he swallowed down everything the Radio Demon gave him. 

Eventually, Alastor released him and slumped back against the pillows, panting as Vox licked him clean and then planted soft kisses over his thighs and hips, working his way up his body.

“After careful consideration,” Alastor began once he felt he had control over his voice again, though his tongue still felt heavy in his mouth. “I have decided that you really shouldn’t use that mouth for talking when there are things it is much better at.” 

Vox chuckled and nipped playfully at Alastor’s shoulder. “Thought you said you like my voice.” 

“I do. It’s the words it forms that I take issue with.”

He snorted. “Oh, yeah? Bet I could change your mind.” He stretched up to lick the edge of an ear before continuing in a low voice. “I love you, Alastor. You’re the only person I have ever loved. You are the most important thing to me, and you have been since I met you. You know, I considered it a point of pride that I got my name from you?” Alastor’s ear flicked with curiosity, and he felt Vox smile against it. “Made me feel like I was yours. ” 

He could feel Vox shimmying out of his underwear, but he was too enraptured with his words to pay much mind to it. Though he did notice the way Vox’s voice became more breathless as he began to touch himself, and how adorable was that? Vox getting off to singing his praises. 

“I am yours, Alastor,” he continued, his free hand stroking the ear he wasn’t actively whispering into. “All yours. Fuck, and I love that. I love that you were so adamant about it. The fact that you want me is the most amazing feeling, and who am I to deny you? You have all of me, baby - my body, my heart, my every thought and desire. You have all my attention, all my devotion, fucking everything I have to give. I love you, and I will give you everything-”  

Alastor grabbed him by the throat and pulled him into a demanding kiss. It was too much. Alastor didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings coursing inside him, clawing at his chest and demanding he sink his claws into Vox’s tender flesh. There weren’t words to describe the raw want he felt for the other demon - it wasn’t sexual, but it was primal, this need to fully and completely claim Vox as his. He needed to be as close to him as possible, and currently, sticking his tongue down his throat seemed the best way to achieve that. 

Vox let out a needy whine as he threw his arms around Alastor, one hand twisting in his hair and the other in his tail. Alastor ran his claws down his back, pulling him closer and inadvertently allowing him to grind against his hip. Ah well, he supposed he’d earned that with that delightful little speech of his. 

Vox’s hand curled around the base of his tail as their tongues twisted together and he pulled the deer demon more firmly against him to thrust against him with a keening moan. 

And then the bedroom door opened. “Hey, boss, I- oh, fuck!”

Alastor and Vox sprang apart, the Radio Demon’s ears and tail standing up in alarm and his smile a sharp rictus as radio dials flashed in his eyes. “Ĉ̶̜l̶̫̼͝o̷̜͆̾͋s̷̛̲̼͎̊̽e̵͎̠̖̔̈́̕ ̸̮̿͝ṯ̵̲͘ȟ̶͕͍̀e̴̫̲͌͛ ̴̛̭̇͗d̵͕̆̕͘ọ̴͗̽ò̴̝͕̘r̶̬̄̾̒!̵̯̈̐͂” he snarled as shadows coalesced to cover himself and Vox both from the waist down.

“Don’t you people fucking knock?!” Vox demanded furiously, sparks dancing around his screen and preventing Alastor from bringing his shadows up any higher. At least Alastor didn’t have any markings on his torso, at the moment - which was more than could be said for Vox, with claw marks on his shoulders where Alastor had gripped him and another gash visible at his side.

Husk looked a cross between embarrassed, uncomfortable, and enraged as he swiftly kicked the door shut behind him and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring somewhere north of Vox’s head. “Well, it’s never been a fucking issue before,” he snapped. “So, what? The nights not enough for you, now? You have to show up here to molest Alastor during the day, too?”

There was an angry crackle of radio static emanating from Alastor, but he was finding it difficult to articulate words in his current state of mortification at being caught in such a scandalous position. 

Vox sneered. “Is this how you compensate for losing everything? Acting all high and mighty as though you aren’t a washed up Overlord who was just too pathetic to keep his status?”

“I never raped my souls!” Husk growled.

“Husker!” Alastor’s voice cracked out like a whip, and he materialized the cat demon’s chain, choking him with it to silence him. The very insinuation that Alastor was a helpless victim here was infuriating, and at this point, laughable. “I told you to stay out of this. Now, you had better have a good reason for barging in here, or the hotel might well be finding itself in need of a new barkeep.” 

“I…” he choked, his hands scrambling at his collar and his eyes wide and fearful as he was deprived of oxygen. Alastor let him suffer for a few more seconds before he loosened it just enough for him to be able to breathe.

“You’ll have to speak up!” 

Vox laughed, while Husk coughed and sucked in a few desperate breaths, glaring hatefully at his owner. “I needed to talk to you about him,” he finally spat, jabbing a finger towards Vox. 

Alastor tilted his head to the side. “And I told you that I’m not discussing Vox with you,” he reminded him coolly. 

“Well, I need to know what I’m supposed to say to everyone else. Rumors are flying about you two, and everyone keeps asking me if I know anything, and I don’t know what bullshit explanation you want me to give! But of course, this is the thanks I get for giving a shit,” he added in a low grumble. 

He rolled his eyes as he dismissed the chain and leaned back against the headboard. “Just say you don’t know.”

Husk raised an eyebrow in surprise, rubbing his throat with one hand while he crossed the other over himself. “That’s only gonna keep people talking, you know. Figured you’d want to discourage that.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly and his gaze slid over to Vox. “I assume you have no qualms with these rumors about our involvement?” 

“Oh, definitely not,” he immediately confirmed, crowding into his side. He started to trail a hand down Alastor’s chest, but the Radio Demon quickly caught it and held onto it to stop him, finding the gesture much too intimate with them both unclothed as they were and being watched. 

“Then I don’t see a problem, Husker!” He unconsciously toyed with Vox’s fingers to distract himself from how uncomfortable the situation was. “Now get. Out.”  

Husk’s eyes darted from their hands to Alastor’s strained smile to the way Vox was watching him adoringly, and his mouth fell open slightly. “What is going on here?” he asked slowly.

“See, your answer will be honest!” Alastor pointed out, his voice clipped as he slipped his free hand around Vox’s waist, vaguely wondering when he’d started finding his presence a comfort again. “Out!”  

The cat demon set his jaw and left the room with a faint shake of his head, and Alastor breathed a sigh of relief. Vox immediately wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tightly against him, and Alastor found the pressure pleasant as he buried his face in Vox’s shoulder, breathing him in. 

“We’re keeping things at V Tower from here on out,” he grumbled after a minute, and Vox laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Whatever you want.”

Chapter Text

“So, according to your newest fuck buddy,” Valentino started in a scathing tone that made Vox roll his eyes, “every lame-ass Overlord is banding together to kill you? Oh, all except for him, despite the fact that he’s been your number one rival for years.” 

Vox fixed his business partner with a tight smile as he clasped his hands on the conference table in front of him. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.” 

Velvette sighed and lowered her phone to the table to fix Vox with a look that was almost pitying. “Look, I know you two’ve gotten all cozy an’ all, but don’t ya’ think he has ample reason to fuck you over?”

“And what exactly do you think his plan is here?” he demanded, his temper flaring despite the fact (or maybe because) it was a more than reasonable concern still festering in the back of his mind. “It wouldn’t have been hard for him to lure me somewhere and still have the element of surprise. Why would he tell me?”  

“How should we know what goes on in that psycho freak’s mind?” Valentino crossed both sets of arms and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you’re not the only target and he needs to get all three of us there. It’s not like Vel and I wouldn’t be out for revenge if something happened to you, after all.” 

“Val’s right,” Velvette agreed with a sigh, then paused, her eyes darting across to Valentino, then back to where Vox sat at the head of the table. “You said the agreement was to divide your souls?” she asked slowly, pointedly. “You don’ think he might want some of those? Just how are they dividin’ them, anyway?”

Vox squeezed his eyes shut with a scowl. “It’s a random, equal division. But… they can confidentially request any particular souls they want…” 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. “And you’re trusting him?!”

Valentino looked between them with a confused frown. “What? Do you have a soul the deer wants, or something?” 

Vox let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at his screen as he glared down at the table. As much as he wanted to be able to just blindly trust Alastor, he couldn’t. And his partners deserved to have all the information going into this decision. “Yeah. His.”

The moth demon’s arms dropped to his sides, his expression going slack with shock. “What?”

“I own Alastor’s soul,” he explained grimly, meeting his eyes. “I inherited it from Mephisto. That’s how I’ve gotten him to do whatever I say lately. I own him.”

“Wait, why am I just fucking finding out about this?!” Valentino’s lips curled furiously. 

“Because he’s mine,” Vox growled, staring him down. “No one else needs to know, and I’m not sharing him.” 

“Velvette knew!” He threw a hand across the table at her indignantly. 

“She figured it out. I didn’t tell her.” He shook his head exasperatedly. “None of this matters right now. Can we get back to the Overlords that want me dead?” 

Valentino pouted, but relented, materializing his cigarette in his hand and taking a puff. “Fine. So, you own his soul. Doesn’t that make it easier? Even if he was lying about not having signed Carmine’s contract, there’s no way you couldn’t stop him from playing his part.” 

Valentino was right. Vox gave Alastor a lot of leeway, freedom to do as he wished during the day, largely unencumbered by his contract, but he didn’t have to. He could keep Alastor in V Tower, only allow him out with specific instructions. He could probably even start sending him after Overlords one by one - Alastor had experience with that, after all. Vox, Valentino, and Velvette could stay in the tower until the threat was neutralized. No one would be able to touch them. It was the longer game, but they could do it, guaranteed. All Vox would have to do was tighten Alastor’s leash. 

He abruptly got to his feet, pacing over to look out into his aquarium with his hands clenched into fists behind his back. He had no doubt that Alastor had considered this alternative, too. It was the only reason he would have not to leverage his help to get his soul back - he knew Vox didn’t need his cooperation, and attempting to blackmail him could have prompted Vox to go straight to Plan B.

There is another possible reason, he thought bitterly. He doesn’t only want his soul. If he helps the other Overlords kill me, he’ll get hundreds more.  

But then another, warmer voice echoed in the back of his head. Do you really think I would just let someone else kill you? I would never allow anyone else to harm, let alone destroy , something that’s mine. And especially not my favorite toy. 

He knew Alastor. Sure he was hard to read at times, but he had his tells. And Vox hadn’t seen any sign that he was lying. Only honest frustration at being unable to speak plainly and a fierce, proprietary hunger centered around Vox. And the passion with which he kissed him, the way he melted into him… that couldn’t be faked, right? 

Vox turned back to the table. “I’m not going there unless I’m sure he’s betraying me.” 

“¡Hijo de puta!” Valentino slammed his hands down on the table and shot to his feet. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“Oh, come on, it’s fuckin’ obvious.” Velvette waved her hand at Vox exasperatedly. “He’s in love with the radio prick.” 

The moth demon scoffed as he propped himself on the table, leaning his weight on one of his lower hands. “Please. Love isn't real, it's just chemicals. I should know.” He leaned forward to blow a puff of smoke into Vox's face. 

He waved the smoke away with a scowl. “My feelings for Alastor are irrelevant,” he insisted firmly. “I know him. I've known him since I landed in Hell. I know… it’s not just a soul contract between us. He wants me around.”

“Yeah, Angel was the same way before he ran off to the princesa's hotel,” Valentino taunted slyly.

Sparks jumped around Vox’s screen. “That's not even fucking close to the same thing,” he spat. “You never cared about a real relationship with Angel. You don’t love-” He cut himself off with a curse as Valentino threw his head back in a laugh. 

“Oh, so you do love your little deer,” he cooed, sliding off the table and stepping over to run a hand over Vox’s shoulder salaciously. “That’s precious, Voxxy. But if you love and trust him so much, why not just set him free? See what happens.” He turned as though to walk back to his chair, but paused, leaning back to look over his shoulder with a cruel smile. “Spoiler alert - he won’t stay with you.” 

The lights in the room flickered, and Vox had to very sternly remind himself that he was not stooping to throwing one of Valentino’s little temper tantrums. As if he didn’t fucking know that. I want every ounce of you, every inch of you, Alastor had said, and he had that. He had all of Vox. All Vox had of Alastor was his soul. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly would happen if he gave up the one piece of Alastor he possessed. Maybe he would stick around just to toy with him - play with his proclaimed favorite toy. Or maybe he’d revel in Vox’s despair as he completely vanished from his grasp, knowing that it wouldn’t matter, that Vox would still be his in every way that mattered. Or maybe he would just kill him for everything he’d done - he was Alastor’s to kill, after all. 

It didn’t matter. Because Vox wasn’t giving up his soul. Having that one piece of Alastor was enough, and he wasn’t giving it up for anything. 

“I don’t need to,” he said in a voice forced calm. “We’re both perfectly comfortable like this. I don’t even have to order him to do anything, anymore. He actually wants me. Which is more than can be said of you with your whores.”

Valentino whirled back around, hands curled into fists. “The fuck did you just say to me?!” he snarled, specks of red saliva flying from his mouth in his rage. 

Velvette sprang to her feet, slotting herself between them in the next second. “Fuckin’ cool it, the both of you! You already know how big each other’s dicks are - you don’ need ta’ compare. Vee, I love ya’, but bein’ wary of Alastor right now is smart. And Val, turn off the jealous ex act. Seriously.”

Both of the other Vees crossed their arms over their chests and glared in opposite directions. 

“Their next meeting is a week from yesterday,” Vox eventually broke the tense silence. “I’m going to be there. Can I count on you two to back me up?” 

“I’m not walking into a fucking trap,” Valentino insisted petulantly. 

“Why don’t you shut your fucking trap?” he snapped back, his anger immediately flaring up again.

“Vox,” Velvette snapped, rounding on him with a hand on her hip. “Enough of this shit! I know you wanna live happily eva’ after with your pet enemy, but that’s no excuse for you to start bein’ stupid!”

“I’m not being stupid,” he insisted, exhaustion beginning to creep into his voice. “You don’t think this being a trap was my first fucking thought? And is there a chance that it is? Sure. But I wouldn’t be walking into it if I wasn’t pretty damn sure that it’s not. I know Alastor. I know his style, and this isn’t it. I’m not saying you should trust him - hell, you shouldn’t trust him. But trust me. I know what I’m doing.” 

Velvette took a moment to seize him up and Vox met her eyes unwaveringly, ignoring Valentino glowering into the aquarium behind her. “Alright,” she finally said, resigned. “We’ve got your back, Vee. But I don’t think me n’ Val should go in with you. We’ll be close and on standby, but we’re not handin’ all three of us over ta’ them. And we need an escape plan if shit does hit the fan.” 

Vox’s eyes flicked to Valentino, who heaved a heavy sigh and stepped over to slump back into his chair. He still wasn’t quite looking at Vox, but it was as much of a concession as he was going to get from him. Vox nodded and reclaimed his seat. “Let’s get to it, then.”

*

Alastor was humming contentedly to himself as he walked down to the hotel’s lobby, but he paused as some voices drifted from the seating area. 

“Oh, come on, it’s fuckin’ weird, I’m tellin’ ya’,” Angel Dust was saying insistently. “Look at the pics.” 

“We can’t even see him in those pictures, Angel,” Vaggie pointed out tiredly. 

“Doesn’t matter. Look at Vox’s face!” 

“I don’t know,” Charlie’s voice rose worriedly. “We all heard Vox’s interview. What if Alastor wasn’t there by choice? I’m worried about him.” 

Oh, now that wouldn’t do at all. His stomach twisted at the very notion that someone as simpleminded as Charlie would find it necessary to worry about him. HA! What a revolting concept.