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“Vox, I love you.”
Vox blinked, tilting his head.
“Sorry, what?”
Alastor put a hand on his and his screen glitched.
“I love you,” he repeated.
So, Vox did hear correctly.
He furrowed his brows, slowly withdrawing his hand from under Alastor's.
“That's not funny,” he said. “Don't do that.”
The confusion on Alastor's face looked so real that Vox had to turn away. He held his glass and took a sip, trying to keep his breathing even and not let his annoyance show.
It had been such a great night.
Alastor invited him to an intimate home-cooked dinner with some drinks. The conversation flowed and the fun had reached its peak before it was completely derailed by this weird, off-hand joke.
“I don't understand,” Alastor said, “I wasn't trying to be.”
“Well, you're not. Anyway, I was in this meeting with Carmilla and the topic of her daughter came up. I barely get a word in when she—”
“No. You're not brushing this aside without an explanation,” Alastor said, tone firm. “I told you I love you and you don't even have the decency to acknowledge it?”
“Sure,” Vox said, rolling his eyes. “I love you too. We done here? Cause I’m really trying to get the ball rolling and you're not making it easy.”
“You’re acting like my confession doesn't matter. Rejection would've been kinder.”
The sadness in his voice surprised him. It's clear Alastor was really invested in this bit. He guessed he wasn't getting them back on track.
What a waste.
He sighed and frowned, swirling the wine in his glass absentmindedly. “I was going to push it aside since you went through all the trouble of cooking for us, but sure. Let me give you my response.”
Alastor leaned forward eagerly.
“I always thought I’d be the exception when it came to your games. You might enjoy getting a kick out of this, but I’m not a pawn or a gerbil you can play with. I don't care if you do it to other people, but respect me enough to keep me out of your antics. You wouldn't do this to Rosie, would you?”
Alastor's lips parted, a bewildered look on his face. Vox scoffed. Really? Did he really think he was that stupid?
That's offensive.
“Vox, let me confirm so there are no misunderstandings,” Alastor said. He spoke with a carefulness of someone trying to defuse a bomb. “Do you think I’m joking?”
“Yeah. Not your best moment, is it? I'm almost hurt that you didn't go for a more subtle approach. Sloppy.” Vox started to pout. “Now, can we get back to dinner? Your jambalaya smells amazing!”
Alastor paused for a moment before he smiled. “Of course. Shall we?”
Vox sighed in relief before he dived in, the spices blooming with flavor in his mouth alongside the want to put whatever this was aside. They’ve had their constant banter—arguments even—but this wasn't a ball he wanted to bounce back. Despite the delicious meal, there was an aftertaste of bitterness as Alastor continued to stare at him like a puzzle he wanted to solve.
Days passed and Alastor started to act weird again. It started with roses appearing in his nightstand whenever he went home from work. He thought about throwing it away to send a message, but felt bad as he held the stem between his fingers. With a sigh, he collected them in a vase instead.
That must’ve given Alastor the wrong idea because new books would appear alongside the daily roses, and he sure as Hell wasn't throwing those away.
“I appreciate the gifts but I don't like why you're giving them to me,” Vox said as they were eating dinner, another one marred by the topic that ruined the other. “You seriously need to stop.”
“In normal circumstances, I would. But this situation is quite unique.”
Vox slammed his utensils on the table. The plates quivered. “I'm not going to ask you again. Stop it. I made it clear that I don't want to be a part of whatever schemes you're planning.”
“And I made it clear that that's not what I’m trying to do. Courtship, Vox. Say it with me. Court. Ship.”
“You are such a—” He crossed his arms, trying to keep his blush controlled. “I’ll burn them, I swear.”
He never did.
He let this continue, knowing how stubborn Alastor can be when it came to getting what he wanted. Unfortunately for him, Vox was sure this wouldn't end in amusement for both parties.
“Honestly,” he said, sipping tea with Rosie. He decided to visit her since he badly needed a break from Alastor's stupid game. “I don't get what he’s trying to achieve here. He can do that to anyone else and get whatever he’s asking for with half the effort.”
“And what do you think is he asking for, dear?”
“That's just it! I don't know. Usually I could interpret whatever's in that loopy head of his, but right now? I’m at a loss.”
Rosie gave him a look of concern.
“What?” Vox asked.
“Nothing,” she said, smiling. “How about this? Let's look at this from another angle. How would you react to Alastor actually having those feelings for you?”
Vox guffawed.
“Rosie, honey, really? Hmm. Let's see. I’d think he was possessed by some eldritch horror, miraculously worse than he is.”
“No, but—”
“Drop it, Rose. If I didn't know any better, I’d think you were actually in on this, which doesn't help.”
Rosie blew air through her nose and closed her eyes. Her fingers ironed out the crinkle between her brows. “If you knew me, you’d never accuse me of ever doing something as petty as pranking one of my friends with false love.”
Vox paused, lips pursed. Maybe he’d gone a touch too far.
“I'm sorry. Just. Tired, I guess. I just want everything to go back to normal.”
“Then reject him,” she said. Vox flinched. “Maybe that's the reaction he was looking for and he’d be satisfied.”
“But rejecting him is technically acknowledging that the confession was real,” Vox said, his voice turning to a mutter by the end.
“And that would be bad?”
“I mean, yeah. Cause it's a lie.”
“Vox, why does it sound like you're convincing yourself.”
Vox stood up, having enough of this.
“Fine. You want me to give a fake rejection to a fake confession? Sure!”
Vox disappeared with a zap of lightning.
Vox found Alastor in the bayou. In it was a cabin that he used to “prep” his game—whether or not they were human or animal.
“Alastor, we need to talk.”
“What is it, mon—”
Vox put his hand up to stop him.
“I want you to stop whatever you're doing.”
Alastor looked down at the deer he was skinning. He set his tools aside and took off his gloves.
“Of course.”
“No, not that!” Vox said, huffing and taking him by the wrist. He transported them both to Alastor's room and said, “I want you to stop this ‘loving me’ thing. It was cute at first, but now? It's getting ridiculous.”
“I would if you’d just acknowledge that it's the truth and respect me enough to say no to my offer.”
“What offer?” Vox said, flailing his hands, exasperated.
Alastor put his arms around Vox’s waist and pulled him close. Vox could smell his perfume, and that, accompanied by his eyes gazing at him up close, overwhelmed him.
“I'm offering you myself,” Alastor said. “I don't know how much clearer you’d like me to be. I want to be your lover, your beau, or whatever moniker they're using nowadays. The important part is that it represents the mutual understanding that we are each other’s. I’ve tried to stop wanting you, but I can't, not until I’ve given us a chance.”
Vox pulled away, and Alastor let him.
“Alastor, I’m just me,” Vox said. “I’ve only been here a few years. I’ve been riding on your coattails since I fell. If it weren’t for my friendship with you—if I hadn’t caught your interest—I don’t even know where I’d be.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re one of the most powerful beings in Hell. This? What you think you feel? It should be for someone better. You deserve better. ”
“Better?” Alastor scoffed, tilting his head. “Why would I want ‘better’ when the best is within reach?”
Vox sighed, wondering what he could do. Right now, it doesn't look like a joke anymore. The genuine care Alastor laced in his words and the glint in his eyes weren't from amusement or an opponent waiting for his next move. He’d been on the opposite of that look more than anyone else to know that this. This was different.
It actually came from somewhere sincere and raw, and Vox couldn't ignore it anymore.
There's only one possible explanation.
Alastor's deluded.
Vox started pacing as Alastor's gaze stayed on him. What can he do to snap him out of it? There were numerous reasons he could think of that led to Alastor thinking he was in love with him. It could be that he's just misinterpreting their friendship as something more than it was. He doesn't have many friends, and Vox took pride in seeing Alastor treat him differently than the others.
“Vox, I can hear you overheating.”
“Shush!”
But what if he found out Vox was already in love with him and he was either responding with guilt or curiosity. The former was bittersweet and the latter’s cruel, but neither fit the bill.
“Your gears are turning faster than they need to be.”
“I said shush!”
Okay. Regardless of whatever this was, it's clear Alastor's stubbornness had been brought into play. If Vox knew him well enough, he just needed to satiate his boredom. Once he got too much of whatever he wanted, the need to continue would wane sooner or later.
A thought nagged at him from the back of his mind, another possibility he couldn't even think about too long lest it distract him from the others with much higher probabilities.
It couldn't be true, could it?
No. Stop. Get back to reality.
He shook his head dispeling unnecessary thoughts. Alastor just needed to release it somehow, get a feel of how ridiculous this is by giving him a chance to act out these fantasies. Vox snapped his fingers, happy to find the solution through a logical standpoint.
“Okay, buddy,” Vox said, his voice soft. He wrapped his arms around Alastor in a reassuring hug. “It's going to be okay. I’m with you. I’ll get you through this.”
“What are you talking about?” Alastor asked, grimacing at his sudden change of attitude.
“Sure. Let's say you love me. Get it all out and we’ll go from there, okay?”
“I think you're grossly misunderstanding this, again.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not stupid, Vox,” Alastor said. “You think it's a lie.”
“It's not. You genuinely think that you love me and that's fine. It happens.”
“Vox, look at me. Is the concept of me loving you so impossible?”
Without missing a beat, Vox answered, “Yes, it is.”
Alastor's smile clipped.
“Why?”
“Aren't you listening? We're not in the same fucking level.”
“What does that even mean? What kind of hierarchy did you set up in your block-shaped head? You think”—Alastor looked close to losing it as he took a deep breath—“that it's impossible because you’re beneath me?”
“Duh.”
Finally!
Alastor narrowed his eyes. He took a step back, looking deep in thought. His gaze was on him and it was hard not to fidget under it.
“I see. Then it seems we’ve reached an impasse.”
Vox wondered if he’d finally come to his senses. Instead, Alastor closed his eyes and sighed.
“Alright,” Alastor said. “You said you’d help me release this ‘infatuation’?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to help however I—”
Alastor appeared in front of him, pulling him by his waist before locking his lips with his.
The shock made Vox freeze.
When Alastor pulled away, Vox’s lips parted. He stared, wide-eyed. What were the chances this was all a dream?
“I’ll release the affections I have for you and you’ll be my willing participant. Of course, I’d never force you to do acts that you wouldn't want to do so I’d like to ask if I can kiss, hug, and hold you. Maybe then— only then—could this so-called ailment be cured.”
Vox closed and opened his mouth like a fish out of water, not sure what was happening. He shook his head to clear it before he blinked a few times.
“Um…I-I didn’t think”—he coughed—“Okay? I guess. And you're sure you're not messing with me?”
“Not at all. Your persistence has made me second guess my approach and rethink my prior statements. Will you lend a hand in snapping me out of this ‘delusion’?”
“Sheesh,” Vox said, crossing his arms. “You don't need to be so fucking dramatic. I’ll play your game. Then you’ll realize how ridiculous you're acting.”
Vox wasn't sure what kind of logic this decision was based on because he doubted there even was any, but it was a step toward the right direction. The methods may be a bit unorthodox—more so ridiculous—but the goal stayed the same.
Alastor needed to understand that this was a passing fancy and to stop indulging it once he’d let it all out.
A sharp pain pinched inside his chest and he sighed, wondering how much he’d have to endure.
“First of all, ask me first,” Vox said, rubbing his nape and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “And don't do it in public. It's bad enough how weird this is. I don't want people to misunderstand.”
Alastor nodded. “Of course. Now, may I kiss you again?”
“What? But you just did!”
“And I’d like to do it again, longer this time.”
Vox’s screen reddened and he covered his face with his hands. This crazy deer’s going to be the death of him.
“N-No. Give me a break! Fuck.”
Alastor tilted his head, his smile turning coy. “Alright. Expect these requests from time to time.”
Days passed and kisses were taken with increasing frequency. Nothing went past a peck on the lips but it was getting harder to endure these intimacies knowing what they were supposed to be for. What's worse was the presence of a growing dread for when it ends.
Vox found himself anticipating a request when Alastor was near, already mentally prepared when he did. He’d catch himself with a goofy smile on his face as his thoughts would wander to Alastor's smile and sweet words. Vox’s hand would reach toward him, pinching his sleeve and giving it a light tug. Alastor would hug him, and the warmth that was a luxury turned to a daily treat he looked forward to.
“Why are you closing your eyes?” Alastor asked.
Vox opened them, realizing his lips were ready and neck craned to meet an anticipated kiss. He turned red and realized it became a habit whenever Alastor was in proximity.
“I…I don't know. Forget about it,” Vox said, turning away and ready to run.
Before he could, Alastor hugged him from behind and started kissing his nape. This made Vox yelp and laugh, tickled by the breathy sensation against his skin. He turned to tell him to stop but ended up being kissed again.
Vox liked the attention, even if it's just pretend.
Months passed and he started getting comfortable—too comfortable. The intimacy didn't feel new anymore, the proximity diminishing to practically non-existent. The shyness turned to open fondness and Vox reeled with more than a taste of what he wanted. It was getting harder to separate what was happening with the reality of its cause.
This had to stop, one way or another, because by the end of the day, he was the one who had the best chance of getting hurt.
He stood in front of Alastor's bedroom door one night, knowing he became a moth circling a flame, aware he’ll burn but unable to resist.
He stepped back, only for the door to open. Alastor saw him, wearing the same warm smile that filled Vox’s daydreams.
“Is there anything I can help you with, love?”
“Love?”
“Yes. Love.”
Vox’s shoulders slumped.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked. “Do you have any idea how confusing this is for me?”
“No,” Alastor replied. “I'm only showing you the truth until you finally accept it.”
“But…it's—You can't be—”
Alastor leaned in for a kiss, but stopped a few inches away.
“I am, and I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to allow yourself to see it.”
Vox stared at his lips before he slowly wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, running his fingers through his hair and tilting his head. He deepened it, parting his lips and shyly flicking his tongue in between his. A whimper escaped him when Alastor responded with enthusiasm, pulling him by the waist with a groan.
Vox didn't know how long it lasted, only that when they parted, they stared at each other—panting and hot under the collar—before taking a few deep breaths and connecting their lips again.
His back met soft cushions and his legs wrapped around Alastor's waist as he fit snugly between his knees. Stuttered moans and gasps were exchanged between them as hands started to wander, squeezing, groping and feeling each other.
More. He wanted more.
No.
He wanted everything.
His eyes snapped open and he pushed Alastor off him.
“Um…I—I…I just need to—yeah.”
Vox turned away before Alastor could reply and retreated to his room. Once the door closed, he sat on the ground and dropped his head in his hands. What the Hell was he thinking? This wasn't how it's supposed to go.
His hand laid on his chest and gripped the front of his shirt, feeling the throbbing of his heart as it beat strongly and quickly beneath his touch.
Hope.
Contrary to how he acted, he knew that he can't keep pretending to be blind to what's in front of him. The possibility of Alastor actually telling the truth climbed higher by the day. He realized that the dread wasn't only because this whole charade could end, but also because it might continue indefinitely until his heart was fully entrenched in Alastor's clutches with no way of taking it back.
And if it's true?
If he put everything aside and faced the possibility of his feelings being reciprocated, how can he be assured it will last? Can he truly trust Alastor to make sure his heart stayed intact in his care?
The fear made him hug himself, gripping his arms and pulling his knees to his chest. So many what ifs came to mind and he was terrified of every one of them.
Why couldn't he just be normal and trust the sliver of a chance that everything will be alright?
Vox felt static from beyond the door. Alastor didn't knock, but the sound of muffled movement suggested that he also sat on the other side—patient and waiting for him to open it when he was ready.
Why couldn't he be?
A weak signal started trying to connect to his frequency. He hesitated, knowing who it was from, before he let it connect. Instead of a voice, he heard a soft song play.
Will you take part in
My life
My love
That is my dream
Tears started to accumulate and fall from his eyes as the music played. The ache started to ebb away and, despite the sobs escaping his lips, his chest bloomed with a warmth that enveloped his doubts and slowly washed them away.
They lingered.
He knew they’d rear their heads from time to time, but a light shone over that likelihood, giving way to the fire rekindling within him.
Life is but a dream
It's what you make it
Always try to give
Don't ever take it
Vox stood up and faced the door. One hand wrapped around the doorknob as the other wiped away the wetness beneath his eyes.
The door opened.
Alastor stood before him.
Life has its music
Life has its songs of love
“You’re sure?” Vox asked, the shadow of doubt still loomed over him as he looked down. The darkness from his room emphasized the separation from the light that bathed Alastor.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” Alastor replied, carefully reaching out his hand toward him.
“I’ll keep feeling this way,” Vox said. Alastor deserved a warning. “It’ll be hard to convince me. You’ll get sick of it.”
“I won't.”
“How can you say that? You don't know.”
“Oh, but I do.” Alastor took a step toward him, but stopped before he was too close. “And I’ll do anything in my power to give you the assurance you need until you do too.”
Vox’s hands trembled before he balled them into fists. His feet shuffled lightly.
Life is but a dream
And I dream of you
Strange as it seems
All night I see you
“It's a sinkhole, Al. These thoughts…it gets bad.”
“Take my hand.”
“It's not that easy.”
“I know,” Alastor said, his hand nearing his. “But let me be your tether. Give me permission to try and pull you out.”
Vox reached for his but grit his teeth as it hovered. “I’ll just drag you down with me.”
“Then let's drown together.”
The blood rushed in his ears and his breath hitched.
His hand balled before it relaxed, moving forward to grab his. Alastor pulled him into the light and held him tight. Vox hugged him. Grip strong. Desperate.
“Thank you,” Alastor said, hand on his cheek. “For trusting me.”
Vox closed his eyes as he let him press his lips against the fresh tears that started appearing before they finally connected with his own.
The uncertainty was still there, always threatening to bubble over sooner rather than later, but now, the other scenarios in his mind started to mute and fade in the background. At the forefront, what was happening now—Alastor holding him and expressing his love in response to his acceptance—shone brighter than the rest.
Regardless of what happens, right now, Vox was content.
I'm trying to tell you
Just what you mean to me