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Honestly, Alastor’s first instinct when Vox had asked him to partner up with him was to laugh in his face. But something had held him back. Maybe it was the earnest eagerness that Vox directed at Alastor, no signs of deception there. Perhaps Vox didn’t only want to use Alastor’s power, and there was more to this. It was hard to know, as Vox could be a shark hidden behind pleasant smiles. Alastor had seen that firsthand, and hadn’t wanted to be yet another victim. But perhaps Alastor could put his own spin on this, and he had been so dreadfully bored lately. And with Vox around, he was always entertained.
“I won’t agree to a partnership, per se, but I will be your receptionist.”
Vox’s face nearly short-circuited, expressions of all kinds flashing across his screen, finally settling on confusion, with a heavy blue blush. “H-HUH?! Where did that idea come from?! Why would you even—”
“I don’t want to get my hands dirty, and get involved in any fights. However, I do want to see how your company pans out.”
“But how does this even benefit me?”
“Just think about it! People will be in an uproar finding out that the Radio Demon is your lowly receptionist! Truly, you have nothing to lose!”
“S-Sure…” But then Vox’s eyes narrowed, and his audio crackled as he went on, “But what do you have to gain?”
Alastor smiled toothily. “Perhaps a free meal every now and then… Surely you won’t miss any annoying underlings. Honestly, Vincent, you’ll get way more out of this.” And he extended out a clawed hand.
With hesitance, yet intrigue, Vox shook his hand. It wasn’t exactly a real deal, and nothing bound them to each other, but there was a spark nonetheless that Alastor ignored. There was no true friends in hell, but there was so much fun to be had.
*
Alastor had been banking on the fact that Vox would finally get fed up with him when Alastor killed and devoured his favourite cameraman, but Vox never seemed to hold a grudge for long. To the point that it seemed strange, with Vox being such a control-freak yet he basically let Alastor do whatever he wanted, even when Vox’s best workers got axed. Alastor would fulfil his receptionist duties minimally, often sitting at his fancy desk and painting his claws the usual ruby red and waiting for them to fully dry before bothering to answer any phone calls or do any admin stuff on the clunky computer (Alastor had requested not to have a modern laptop, loving the clicks of old keyboards and the slowness of old systems so he had an excuse not to get anything done quickly, not that Vox cared either way).
For years, they upheld this arrangement. And as Vox’s company soared, Alastor moved from tower to tower alongside the company, getting a better desk each time but still keeping the old computer. His chair was ridiculously expensive, and he liked to keep leftovers in his desk (usually a hand or two for a quick snack). Honestly, lazing around wasn’t so bad, and Alastor got days off whenever he wanted (when Rosie needed him to do her dirty work).
As Alastor filed his claws, his ears pricked up, and he smelled a disgusting sweet smoky scent. On instinct, he pressed a button under the desk, closing the automatic doors behind him that led to Vox’s office. And he smiled when Valentino blanked him, headed to the closed doors, and walked right into them, smacking his face. “FUCK!”
“I’m afraid that Vox isn’t having any appointments today,” Alastor said sickly sweetly.
Valentino whirled around, before storming over to his desk and slammed his hands down on top of it. “Like fuck he isn’t! You do this every damn time! I’m a God damn Vee, you stupid fucking deer! Or is your eyesight failing you?!”
Such a hypocrite. “You can schedule an appointment if you like, but I’m afraid my computer is running a bit slow today…”
“I LIVE HERE! VOX AND I FUCK! I DON’T NEED A FUCKING APPOINTMENT!”
“I didn’t quite get that, what’s your name again? Vox doesn’t meet with ‘loser nobodies’, his words, not mine. It’s company policy, in fact, that his time isn’t wasted with anyone who shows up off of the streets. He’s a very busy, important man.” He wasn’t sure why, but Alastor loved messing with Valentino the most. Perhaps he didn’t like him. He wasn’t too sure why, and he wasn’t going to think too deeply on it because that was a dangerous line of thought.
There was cameras in the reception area, but Valentino didn’t care, pulling out his guns and aiming them at Alastor who kept inspecting his claws, filing them calmly. He sent out a signal, scrambling the cameras, curious as to what would happen and not sure if he wanted Vox to see it.
“Listen here, you little deer bitch! This is the last time you pull this shit with me, ok?! If I don’t shoot you then I’m going to make your life a living hell and make you one of my cracked out whores, got that?! You think you’re safe just because Vox has some dumb crush on you?! Well I’m the one that fucks him, and I can give him better head than you ever can!”
Alastor hummed. Well, Valentino wasn’t technically wrong. Maybe Alastor wasn’t intimate with Vox in that way and never would be, but… “All I have to do is talk to him just once, and I’m the one he’ll be thinking about for the rest of the day. I don’t even have to touch Vox, and I’ll still be the one on his mind,” he said nastily, the poison spilling out with ease. Valentino wasn’t used to being challenged, but Alastor had nothing to fear from some stuck up, abusive pimp. “You’re just an afterthought.”
That made Valentino snarl, clicking off the safety of his guns, but it was Velvette who charged into the room, smacking his arms down. “What the fuck are you doing?!” she exclaimed, pissed beyond belief. “You weren’t seriously going to shoot him, were you?!”
“HE WASN’T LETTING ME THROUGH!”
“Oh, and I bet you were so polite when you asked?”
“I FUCKING DON’T NEED TO ASK!”
Alastor smiled as he watched Velvette drag Valentino away, fuming. And he tuned into the audio system of the tower, picking up their chatter no matter how far they went. He heard Velvette say in an angry whisper, “You do realise that I just saved your skin, right?”
“I can handle one fucking deer!”
“Not from him, you dummy! From Vox! The last guy that tried to gun down Alastor was thrown into the damn shark tank! I know that because I was there, and watched Vox lose his shit! He didn’t let Alastor see the carnage, because maybe he doesn’t want the guy to know that Vox is absolutely a possessive psycho over him! Although I guess that man deserved it that time but Vox has totally hunted down anyone who simply even flirts with Alastor.”
“So what?! I’m a damn Vee, and I’m the one who actually has sex with Vox!”
“Yeah? And how many times has Vox flaked on you just because Alastor asked him to have dinner with him? I’m sorry, Val, but Vox has it so bad for Alastor that there’s no amount of sex that can make him change his mind. He’s into freaky-looking deer who definitely eats people I guess.”
The only new news to Alastor was the fact that Vox perhaps liked him a bit too much? He had been always aware of the attention, but it sounded as if this whole time that Vox had wanted him on a different level. Maybe that should have bothered Alastor more than it should, but it felt validating knowing that Vox was so fixated on him over Valentino. And Alastor didn’t have to put any effort in, Vox would cancel meetings just because Alastor wanted to do something together, and Vox was very focused on his work.
Alastor tuned back out, not caring for the rest of their gossip. He got back to work (finishing off his claws), and unlocked the doors to Vox’s office. Bored, Alastor stood, and walked in, watching Vox angrily yell over the phone, “Listen here, Katie Killjoy, you stupid bitch! This number is for work calls only and if you ask me one more time to—” But upon noticing that Alastor had entered his office, which was a rarity, he hung up, and slammed his phone down on his desk so hard that the screen definitely cracked. “Oh, Al, what’s up?” he asked, going for casual, as if he hadn’t just been screeching at the head anchor of 666 News.
“I’m on my lunch break,” Alastor said, walking over and sitting down on Vox’s desk, smiling innocently as Vox’s screen heated up with blue. “Do you like my ‘nails’?” he asked, showing off his ruby red claws, which sparkled under all the lights.
“Always,” Vox agreed breathlessly.
Even if Alastor never changed his nail polish colour, he was pleased regardless. What had become of him, to actually like Vox’s easy compliments? It perhaps had to do with the fact that Vox was being openly honest. He wasn’t trying to butter Alastor up unlike with other people. Even if he did like Alastor a bit too much. This was…strange to navigate, but not unwelcome.
“What about my hair?”
“…You should really talk to Velvette.”
Alastor laughed. Well, even Vox had his limits. “Aww, how harsh! You don’t even have hair!”
“Well I did, back when I was alive!”
“But now you’re practically bald!”
“Nuh-uh! I have this fucking hat, you see?!”
They both cackled, knowing their bickering was ridiculous. Perhaps, if Alastor had laughed in Vox’s face so many years ago then they wouldn’t be able to talk like this, or be so at ease with each other. And as fun as it could be for Vox to hate him, Alastor didn’t mind this one bit.
“Could your order takeaway? I’m famished,” Vox asked.
Alastor hummed and inspected his claws. “I’m afraid I’m on break…”
“Well I was thinking of getting takeout from Cannibal Town…”
“Go ahead, then, you know my order.”
“You’re the worst fucking receptionist,” sighed out Vox, but it was fond. And then he picked up his phone, which was cracked, and groaned. “God damn it!”
“Modern day technology is so inferior these days.”
“Well I’m not getting a damn rotary phone!”
*
Another day at the office, and Alastor was pleased when he didn’t have many people to deal with. That is until a group of Sinners burst in, holding guns and knives, and one even held an axe. It was just another typical Tuesday, honestly. “We’re here to see Vox!” one demanded gruffly.
Alastor smiled pleasantly with all his teeth. “Well, you’ll have to schedule an appointment, and we don’t do walk ins, so you’ll have to call our line tomorrow morning. It’s nearly lunch, after all.”
The group clearly didn’t like that, nor did they recognise who exactly he was. Ever since working for Vox, Alastor hadn’t upheld his fearsome reputation as much, but perhaps these idiots needed a reminder of who the Radio Demon was and just what he could do. “Listen here, you smug bitch, we’re going in there no matter what.”
“Not without an appointment~!” Ah, Alastor really did love his job. He could deny anyone he wanted to as long as they weren’t an important Overlord. “And I’m afraid we’re out of time—my lunch break just started.” Overly confident, one idiot fired their gun, but Alastor’s head snapped to the side unnaturally, avoiding it, unharmed as the bullet whizzed by. “I’m afraid that we don’t allow weapons in this building.” ‘Unless you work here,’ went unspoken.
Unnerved, but seeming to think they were strong as a pack, they advanced further, but Alastor struck out his leg, sending the heavy desk flying into them with a powerful kick, knocking them over like bowling pins. It wasn’t exactly elegant, and his computer clunked onto the floor into a broken heap, but he liked his own space, and these pieces of filth needed to learn boundaries.
The doors to Vox’s office opened, and he stormed out, having definitely heard the crashing noise. “What in the hell are you—” He took the scene in, looking from Alastor, to the goons groaning and aiming their weapons at him. “Oh, I see…” Vox said, voice warped and beyond furious. Cables split out of his back, blue electricity racing along them. “It’s one thing to start shit with me, but messing with my receptionist? No, that just won’t do at all.” His cables shot out, spearing into each Sinner and making them scream in agony as volts were surged through them, frying their skin and fur without holding back.
And Alastor watched the show eagerly, near salivating at the scent of cooked flesh. Only when the Sinners no longer moved, did Vox stop, releasing them, cables returning as he went back to his usual self. He moved closer to Alastor, looking over him with concern of all things! It was laughable, really! “You’re…fine, right?” Vox asked unsurely. “They didn’t hurt you?”
Oh, Vox, you forget what I am… “Scum like them can never hope to do anything to me.”
Vox sighed out in relief, and Alastor had no idea why he was so worried—or, Alastor did, but he really buried his thoughts down, because it was dangerous thinking too deeply, not being able to handle the truth. It had been obvious from the start. But they couldn’t just… Alastor wasn’t… Vox didn’t have a clue that he couldn’t have whatever fantasy he imagined.
But when Vox looked at him, frantically searching for injuries, scared that Alastor was hurt, it didn’t seem so bad to be someone’s fixation. To be cared for, even if it was hard to understand. Vox had to know how powerful Alastor was, having been a long time fan, and yet he was still so…
“I’m stronger than you, Vox,” Alastor pointed out.
Vox huffed, backing off, coming to his senses. Which was good. Things could go back to normal with their usual bickering, and nothing had to change. “But out of practise. Besides, guns are a lot more dangerous than knives or an axe.”
“Hmm, not if you’re fast!”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t had my screen shot to bits yet, have I? Whatever…” They looked down at the bodies. “I guess I can call up Rosie.”
“Yes, best not to let these morsels go to waste!”
Vox shivered, effectively unnerved despite having been the one to electrocute a few people without hesitating. “And I suppose you’ll be needing a new desk, and a computer upgrade. But you know what? Maybe we should just…merge offices.” He looked to the side, but the blue of his screen gave his feelings on the matter away.
“Wouldn’t that be less efficient?”
“…As if you were efficient to begin with, with all your breaks to do your ‘nails’?”
“Touché! I suppose it’d be fun to watch you scream on the phone.”
“You make it sound as if that’s all I do.”
“Isn’t it?”
Vox sighed, probably already regretting this. Yet, he was definitely happy. And Alastor pretended as if he wasn’t interested in the new arrangement, too. This was just temporary, because surely they wouldn’t be able to tolerate each other in the same room for that long, right?
*
“…So I now have that douchebag on hold, because oh my God, he’s such a dick!” Vox crowed out, a hand on his desk, as Alastor hummed beside him, their seats pressed close together. Alastor was painting shiny blue nail polish on Vox’s claws, who rambled on and on. “Like seriously, I don’t give a fuck that his company is going under—that isn’t my problem! I just want my God damn money! What a useless little prick! This is why I don’t just give out loans to start-up companies anymore because there’s so many morons out there that think they’ll make it big, but they lack the talent and pizazz!”
“And so what are you going to do about him?”
“I’m not sure, yet. But I’ll probably gut him. Or, get someone else to do it. I can’t be bothered. He’s not worth the energy.”
“How boring.”
“Look, I have more important things to do than waste my time on trash like him!” Vox defended, as he lounged around in his chair, basically doing nothing. What a ridiculous man. “Maybe I’ll just have Val deal with him. He’s so pissy lately, so I’m sure he’ll think up something creative to do with him.”
Alastor had an inkling as to why Valentino was so angry as of late. He had thrown a fit when he found out that Alastor was now sharing an office with his ex (were they even exes if they clearly were only fuck buddies? Alastor had no clue, he didn’t want to know either). And Vox, being so self-absorbed, brushed Valentino’s complaints off. Honestly, it was always so delicious when Vox kicked Valentino to the curb, even if Alastor being the reason for it made him feel…odd. More thoughts to shove down.
“Sometimes I wonder if old Valentino is dragging the Vees down,” Alastor said, happy to stir the pot. “What does he even do again?”
“Makes sex tapes, entraps people into contracts they hate, makes us a ton of money but not as much as Velvette does for us. Other than that, he either sits around and bitches, or fucks like no tomorrow. He used to get into more gang fights, but these days we already have a shit ton of territory in this shithole.”
“So basically, he really is useless?” Alastor pestered, leaning in closer, batting his eyelashes.
Vox hummed thoughtfully, trying not to look flustered. But it was difficult for him to argue with Alastor this close, and they both knew it. This kind of manipulation usually worked. “…Do you have a problem with Val, or something? You seem eager to kick him out.”
“He’s unpleasant, has no manners, and barely anyone likes him. You and Velvette can hardly tolerate him these days, either. Maybe he should be replaced.” Or killed, by an angel, preferably, so his death sticks…
“Look, he’s a business partner, just like Velvette. Think whatever you want, but us Vees stick together no matter what. Besides, if one of us is kicked down the rest of us will look weak. We have to look united, Al. We’ve already established ourselves as a powerful trio.”
“Ha!” Alastor leaned away, waving a hand. “I don’t see a point in any of that! Who cares about the public’s perception? I do whatever I want, and live freely.” Or, as free as he could, chained down to a contract he had yet to break. But he would, one day. “Eventually he’ll go too far, and drag you down into the deep end. Let’s hope that you swim yourself back to the surface.”
“Well it’s a good thing that I know how to swim with sharks, then. I’m not some little fish, especially not now. But here’s a fun little hypothetical… Say if you were to replace Valentino, who would you pick?”
“…” Alastor scanned his memory, but there wasn’t anyone who would both be willing, and strong enough to be a new Vee. Maybe Alastor didn’t think much of Valentino, but even he could admit that his powers with luring people in was strong. But it was just so unpleasant.
Vox nodded in confirmation. “I thought so! Val can be a mess to deal with, yes, but he’s still an essential part of the team. Besides…you’d never agree to replace him,” Vox said, a bit mournfully.
“Being a receptionist is fitting for me, currently. Besides, you wouldn’t want to be outshone, would you? If I were on your little team then you wouldn’t be the main attraction anymore.”
Vox frowned, mood dipping further. It had been the wrong thing to say. “What I wanted for us was to be partners, Al. A partnership where we were equals. The Vees were a later thing, and a whole different matter.”
“Hmm, so you don’t consider the Vees to be your equals?”
“You know the answer to that,” Vox replied, blunt. Perhaps Vox relied on the other two too much, which would be his undoing, but Vox was definitely in another league. If he could just rely on himself, he’d be near unstoppable. Because unlike the other Overlords out there, Vox had pure drive, and ambition beyond what any of them could hope to reach. Alastor could see the potential, but Vox just needed to be unshackled from the chains that binded him to truly see it. That’s why Alastor was the more stronger of the two—something as pitiful as friendship and loyalty was underneath him.
“Your colleagues would hate to hear that you think yourself as above them,” Alastor teased.
“Yeah, which is why you won’t say anything. You’d have nothing to gain from it.”
“Oh, perhaps I’ll have plenty to gain! It would be awfully entertaining…”
Cables sprung from Vox’s back, and snaked around in the air, curling around Alastor’s general vicinity, but not nearly close enough to touch him. They hummed and flickered. A threat, but not quite an outright malicious one. “But then I’d have to fire you, and I’d hate to lose such a helpful receptionist,” Vox sighed out dramatically, as if he truly held all the power here. But they both knew it was just a fantasy that Alastor was fine to entertain. “You’ve been such a totally faithful employee…”
“Oh, Vincent,” Alastor cooed out, leaning in and brushing the tips of his claws along the screen, grinning as he felt static, and saw Vox’s expression glitch out. “I think this counts as workplace harassment! You hold so much power over me, and my poor lowly self is feeling quite intimidated! Whatever should I do?”
“H-Huh?” Vox spluttered out, losing his cool entirely.
“Do we have a HR department? I might have to report that my boss is making me feel uncomfortable in the workplace.”
Vox shook his head, cables moving further away, and his shark-like grin returned. “Christ, Al, whoever thought you’d be into roleplay?”
“If I’m playing the part of an innocent little receptionist, it helps to practice!”
“Yeah, ‘innocent’ my ass… I’m pretty sure if we had a HR department, then you’d be getting the most complaints for that smile.”
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile!”
Vox sighed, cables returning into his back, all relaxed again. “No one is harassing you for real though, right? Beyond the thugs?”
“Your workers are adequate,” Alastor said cheerfully. The ones that weren’t had ended up on a plate in Cannibal Town.
“Good. Except for Val, apparently.”
“I have no issues with him.”
“You totally do!” Vox said with a laugh. “It’s ok to hate people—I hate practically every idiot I have to do business with.”
“It isn’t hate, it’s dislike,” Alastor said, which were two totally different things. “Hate is much more personal, and intimate.”
“Uh-huh,” replied Vox, obviously not getting it. “So where does that put us?” He really did have a one-track mind.
For a moment, Alastor wasn’t sure what to say. Which was unlike him. While they had gotten into some scuffles, they’d never full on fought. Maybe if Alastor had cruelly turned Vox’s partnership down then he could have sparked some tasty animosity. They more so bickered, and argued, and sometimes it got physical, but it wasn’t really dislike or hate… And Alastor was stumped. He didn’t know what it was. Especially not anymore. They’d never been opposed to each other exactly. Maybe in another universe, they were at odds, but they certainly weren’t here.
There are no friends in hell.
There are no friends in hell.
There are no friends in hell.
“Acquaintances, of course!”
Vox looked surprised to hear that, and his screen glowed bright blue. “You know, that word can be interchangeable.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Never mind… So, should we get lunch?”
“It isn’t time for my lunch break, yet.”
“As if that’s never stopped you before! Besides, I make the fucking rules around here, and we’re going for lunch, and fuck anyone else who tries to call! And I’ll even get us a fancy cab to Cannibal Town.”
“Oh, fine. Rosie did want to discus some business in person. She isn’t fond of phones either, you see. So tacky!”
“Argh, this isn’t a business trip but fiiiine!”
*
The cab hadn’t gone all the way into Cannibal Town, despite Vox’s threats, and so the two strolled on in. Amongst the smiling cannibals with their voided eyes, Vox really stood out and drew in attention. Alastor himself didn’t seem to completely fit in, either. Not many different types of Sinners were brave enough to prowl these streets, which Alastor was glad for. It was a more quiet kind of place, lacking in technology and noisy cars. And at least these folk had taste and adored his radio show, often asking him if he was ever going to bring it back. But alas, he was too busy working for Vox. One day, he’d bring it back, and it would be something nobody would ever forget!
“Do you think any of them would try to eat me if you weren’t here?” Vox asked, but he didn’t sound afraid, just curious.
“Not unprovoked. But I have wondered what you taste like. How much of you is flesh and how much is machine?”
Vox laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, I don’t entirely have a clue, either. Keen to have a taste?”
“Oh, hardly! It’s bad business to take bites out of co-workers.”
“…Except the ones you dislike.”
“Hmm, what was that?”
Vox rolled his eyes and didn’t push it further, crossing his arms as they walked.
They ignored the eyes on them the best they could, but Alastor knew it wasn’t negative attention. The cannibals were merely curious, not hungry. And to perhaps keep them guessing, or out of pure impulse, Alastor latched onto one of Vox’s arms, as if they were some couple taking a romantic stroll around the town.
“W-Whaaaaaa…” Vox’s screen flitted between colours, going stiff but Alastor didn’t allow him to stop walking, pulling him along as he stayed clung onto his arm.
“Imagine all the rumours!” Alastor said. “Although the one thing you don’t have to worry about is any social media attention about this. Smartphones are so bothersome.”
“That doesn’t explain why the hell you’re—”
“Because I felt like it,” cut in Alastor, prissily. He didn’t have to explain himself to Vox, or anyone else, and this didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t. He was just… He just wanted to know what it felt like, to hold onto Vox’s arm. It felt comfortable enough.
Vox definitely wanted to press the issue, but he tried to relax, a giddy grin working its way onto his screen.
When they walked into Rosie’s place, she openly gawked at them. “Alastor, did you manage to finally bag a trophy husband? I gotta say, you have peculiar tastes but I can see the bigger picture. How did you win him over, Vox? Lavish him with expensive gifts or something? You do seem to be the type to be one of those ‘sugar daddy’ types! Am I saying that right?”
Vox blue-screened, and Alastor laughed and laughed. It seemed that Rosie approved, not that anything was going on between them. It wasn’t. This was just all for fun. Even if Alastor would never do this with anyone else. He could spend the rest of his immortal life with Vox at his side, and he was sure that Vox felt the same way. Alastor wasn’t sure how long he’d stick to being his receptionist, but as long as it was entertaining for him then he could stick with it for a while. And he was sure that Vox would never bore him.
This thing they had… It didn’t mean anything. It meant everything.
And there was no friends in hell. There was.
And Alastor had no heart. He did, it was right there, beating faster and faster.
For now, he was happy with his life. But he wanted more, so much more out of his life, and only Vox could provide what he was missing.
And one day, just maybe, Alastor would be honest to both Vox, and himself.