Chapter Text
“Oh my,” Alastor said mildly. “What do we have here?” All the usual suspects were in one of the counseling rooms, circled around… “What could possibly bring you to our fine hotel, Vox?”
Vox grimaced.
“That’s what I wanna know!” Husk demanded. “After what he did to Angel—!” Cherri Bomb grabbed his arm and shook her head.
Alastor hummed to himself. Angel Dust had apparently returned to Valentino’s side after the most recent goings on—from whence he had yet to return—but none of that explained Vox’s presence in the hotel.
He looked to be in good health, despite his recent beheading, though Alastor could feel how much weaker he was; his ratings had taken quite the hit, and it seemed unlikely that his allies would be building him back up anytime soon. VoxTek Enterprises was being rebranded as VeeTek, in fact, implying they were removing his face from the packaging.
Uh, I’m the face? If all Vox had to offer his little team was being taken away from him… Perhaps Alastor could offer him something else, if the Vees were stupid enough to push him away.
Alastor tipped his head to one side. “You must be incredibly desperate to come here. Are your partners not taking good enough care of you? Have they turned their backs on you?”
“What? No, that’s not it.” Vox grimaced. “They actually know I’m here. Believe it or not, Velvette even encouraged this.” He sighed. “Look, that’s not important. Before, I’ll admit, I got a little carried away.”
“A little?” Vaggi asked incredulously.
“A lot, maybe,” Vox allowed. “But Alastor can tell you all, I’m no threat to you right now. I’m not even powerful enough to fight off Husk. Fuck, I doubt I could handle Pentious. Trust me, I just… want to make amends.”
“Trust you?” Alastor laughed. “You are much weaker to be sure, but that’s no reason for us to trust your intentions.” He leaned in, grinning meanly. “Admit it, you only want to use the Princess’s good nature to launder your reputation and make a new bid for power.”
Vox straightened, eyes bright and earnest. “Not only. But even if I did, wouldn’t you do the same?” he countered. “Look, I’m not asking for a shortcut here. I’ll stay as long as it takes, and I’ll do the work, but only if you let me. If the answer is no, I’ll leave.” He crossed his arms. “But it was you, Princess Morningstar, who said you believed even a sinner like me could be redeemed.”
Alastor almost laughed. As if men like he and Vox could ever dream of attaining the princess’s redemption. They’d be better off living it up in Hell, chasing new entertainment and clawing their way into more power.
Charlie frowned. “I did say that. And I meant it. I believe that anyone can be redeemed.”
“That’s bullshit,” Cherri snapped.
“You can’t seriously trust this guy!” Husk took another step toward Vox, pointing sharply. “We don’t even know everything this fucker did to Angel.”
“We could always find out,” Alastor pointed out, tapping his fingers lightly across the top of his microphone, eyeing Vox over the top of it. “You only need to ask. He records everything he sees, you know.”
“No, no, no,” Charlie cut in quickly. “That would be a massive breach of Angel’s privacy.” She shook her head. “I won’t do that to him again.”
“If you insist,” Alastor drawled. “It would certainly be much easier to trust his word if you could confirm it with your own eyes.”
Vox glanced at Alastor, eyebrows raised.
“Al, why does it feel like you’re in favor of him staying?” Vaggi asked.
“Because I am, of course!” Alastor laughed, and laughed harder when everyone, including Vox, looked at him with stunned expressions.
“But he tried to kill you?” Charlie pressed. “Like, permanently? I thought maybe you might not…”
“Water under the bridge, my dear!” Alastor proclaimed.
Vox narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe that for a second. What’s your fucking angle, old man? I thought you would be my hardest sell.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Alastor grinned. “Your latest tantrum was enormously entertaining! And besides, I still have to repay you for the hospitality you and your Vees showed me during my stay in your ugly tower. I won’t even insist you remain tied to a chair for much of your time with us!”
“Much,” Vox echoed.
“Besides, I wouldn’t want my old friend to miss out on the many instructional and… emotionally beneficial activities we provide here at the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor twirled his staff. “What other angle could I possibly have?”
Vox’s screen brightened, lips parting in quiet surprise. He always was too easy.
Husk stared at Alastor in transparent disbelief. Finally, after a long beat, he barked a sharp laugh. “All right, fine, but I ain’t servin’ him any drinks, and I sure as shit ain’t therapizin’ him neither. That’s all you, Princess.”
“Thera—You expect me to go to therapy?” Vox asked.
Charlie smiled. “We offer all kinds here—mostly talk and group therapy—as a way to get to the bottom of what your unique path to redemption could look like.”
“There you have it, Vox,” Alastor said brightly, eyes narrowing in challenge. “Will you be checking in?”
Vox narrowed his eyes. “You think I’ll pussy out.”
“What? Of course not. Who said that?” Alastor asked, obviously over the top, more than happy to goad him on.
Vox blustered. “Hah! Yeah, sure, check me in. I’ll stay at your cringey little hotel with all its fuckin’ therapy, and we’ll see how much good it can really do.”
Charlie winced; Vaggi muttered something no doubt uncharitable in rapid Spanish. Alastor laughed.
“Wonderful! Follow me, Vox, and we’ll get you checked in posthaste.” Alastor swanned out of the room; the prick of static on the back of his neck indicated that Vox had followed him, obedient as ever. “Do you have any bags with you?”
“Don’t need any.”
“Cocky. I do wonder how long you’ll actually stay,” Alastor mused. He slipped into shadow to reappear behind the front desk, ignoring entirely the line of people hoping to check in.
That was a Vaggi problem.
“Here you go,” he dangled the key between them, held between two fingers, “top floor, north wing, can’t miss it. Off you trot; try not to get lost. Oh, and if you cause any problems for me, I’ll remove you myself.”
Vox took the key and avoided direct physical contact. “Jeez, Al, it’s almost like you don’t trust me or something.” He leaned on the counter, a shit-eating grin stretching across his screen. A number of impatient sinners began muttering amongst themselves. He pitched his voice low, until to anyone else, it would be indistinguishable from static. “As if you actually care about this stupid place. What are you really doing here?”
Alastor leaned across the counter and pressed a single finger against Vox’s chest. “That, as it happens, is none of your business.” He pushed him off the counter and spoke loud enough to be heard: “I’m going on break. Vaggi, there are guests waiting!” He rang the bell on the desk several times to annoy her.
By the cursing he could hear, it worked. He grinned and disappeared into the shadows; he could hear a snort of laughter from Vox as he left.
They always did have a similar sense of humor.
“Vox,” Charlie asked carefully at their second counseling session, “can I ask what happened between you and Alastor? It seems… Well. Fraught is one word.”
Vox gave her his best puzzled look. “We’re both overlords with a similar game. What about that is so difficult to understand?”
Charlie shook her head. “Well, see, I would believe that, except that, as you may recall, I was actually there when you tried to blow up half the Pentagram including yourself, so long as you ‘wiped that smile off of Alastor’s fucking face,’ were I believe your exact words?”
“I was out of my mind.” Vox shrugged.
“Because of Alastor. It seemed like he knew you very well, and… well. It’s mutual, isn’t it?” She sighed and shook her head. “Look, I only ask, because I think it’s important. Powerful emotions don’t just pop up out of nowhere. Finding the root cause could help you on your path to redemption.”
Vox needed to be careful. He needed to play his cards just right, or he’d never be able to move forward with his plan. If he was going to outmaneuver Alastor for once, he needed to be playing on a different level entirely.
And he needed Charlie Morningstar firmly on his side; without her help, he wouldn’t get anywhere.
“It’s…” Vox rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s an old story, Princess, and one I don’t much like to tell. It was… It was humiliating,” he admitted quietly. “If anyone else found out, my reputation, however tattered it is now… Honestly, no one would take me seriously again.”
Charlie’s eyes went comically wide with her sympathy. “You’ll have full confidentiality, of course. It stays between us. I promise.”
“I…” Vox looked away, feigning reluctance. He sighed. “Well, the truth is, I did promise Velvette I would try. She supported me coming here, but mostly because she was hoping I might finally put my feelings for Alastor to rest.”
That was even true. Velvette’s exact words had been, Maybe Princess Rainbows can convince you that your thing for the Radio Demon is a waste of your afterlife. You’ve got to move on, V. You can’t keep doing this shit every time he deigns to give you the tine of day.
Charlie pressed a hand to her mouth. “For? Not about?”
Vox laughed, self-deprecating. “That’s right, Princess. Alastor is the first and only person I have ever loved.” It felt weird saying it aloud, and even weirder that the first person he told wasn’t actually Alastor himself, but needs must.
Velvette and Valentino knew, of course, but not because he’d ever told them. One too many crash outs over Alastor, and they’d put the pieces together themselves.
“What?” She shook her head. “But you two are always trying to—everyone always says that you… What changed?” she asked helplessly. “How long has it been?”
“Since we first fought? Around 70 years.” Vox leaned back and closed his eyes. “We never really got closure, and… Well, I’ve never really been able to move on.”
And that was the real reason he was here. He didn’t need to move on; he needed to understand. He needed to finally learn the truth of that night. Without that, Vox would never be able to move forward.
“What was the fight about?” Charlie asked.
“Initially?” Vox’s gut clenched with the remembered humiliation, the pain of his hope and love being laughed at by the only man whose opinion meant anything to him. “It’s difficult for me to talk about.”
He just needed to be able to ask—to finally know for sure—was it really that simple? Was it nothing more or less than a miscommunication? Could they have been together?
“You don’t have to if you’re not ready yet,” Charlie promised.
Vox gave her a wan smile. “It’s true, what he said on that first broadcast he made about me. I did ask him to join me. I wanted to be his partner. I asked him, and he—he laughed so hard, I thought he might pull something.” His gut clenched with the memory. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life. I decided—if he won’t join me, I’d just have to make him regret it. Maybe then he’d—!” Vox lowered the hand he’d raised. “But Alastor is stubborn, and he holds a grudge. So here we are.”
“He laughed at you? How terrible.” She frowned.
“We were friends, then, too. Or, I thought we were.” He mimicked Alastor’s voice: “There are no friends in Hell, V-Vox.” Charlie did not need to know his given name. That wasn’t something he wanted to spread around.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “And he didn’t explain why he rejected your offer?”
“He explained. I just… Were we really never friends?” he asked. “I’ve never… I don’t know if I can believe that’s true. I’ve always wanted to know. Maybe if it is true, if it really never meant anything to him, I’ll be able to finally let go,” Vox lied, letting his antennae droop.
Charlie bit her lip. “There’s really only one way to get to the bottom of that, huh… But Alastor has never participated in one of my counseling sessions before, and when I asked, he laughed at me.”
“Raise the topic while I’m in the room too,” Vox suggested. “I… might be able to do something about that. It depends on his mood, though.”
“Do we want him in a good mood or a bad one?”
Vox waved a hand in a so-so gesture. “Could go either way. I’ll adjust my approach accordingly. We do want either extreme though, not like… neutral.” Neutral wouldn’t let Vox bait the trap properly.
“Got it.” Charlie nodded. “Let’s see what we can do to get you that closure.”
Vox stifled his triumphant grin; it wouldn’t do to show his hand too early. He had to play the long game if he was going to corner Alastor and finally get what he wanted.
Velvette would just have to let go of her own goals; Vox had no intention of ever moving on. Not from Alastor.
Not ever.
Alastor was sitting at the bar, holding a scotch, but not actually drinking it. Vox frowned. Cherri and Husk were both drinking and discussing something—the still absent Angel Dust, no doubt—but Alastor… Even here, it was like he was holding himself apart.
Pretending to participate, even though Vox knew he loved to drink. He always used to drink when he was with Vox.
“You know, for being a guy who claims to disdain friendship,” Vox drawled, taking the seat beside him, “you sure do spend a lot of your free time around other people.”
“And what would you know of friendship, old pal?” Alastor rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we both remember how your attempts have historically gone.” Alastor played a theme from a slasher movie and an overdone scream.
Cherri sounded startled by her own laugh; did Alastor not joke around as much as he used to?
“At least I keep trying,” Vox said. “I didn’t just give up at the first fucking hurdle.”
“Oh, Vox, could it be, you’re still hung up on that?” Alastor laughed, mocking and cold. “Surely that should be ancient history by now?”
“Oh? Was there drama?” Cherri asked. “Spill!”
“I’m afraid it’s not worth broadcasting, dear, no matter what Vox is implying.” Alastor shook his head. “You simply mustn’t believe everything you hear on television, you know.” He laughed, and canned laughter played from his microphone.
Vox scowled. “Yeah, right. Because I’m the only one who ever does anything wrong. It’s always my fault. Me, me, me!”
“Yes, exactly!” Alastor pinched the side of his screen with a condescending smile. “So he can be taught!”
Vox growled, static picking up around him. Alastor matched him, a sure sign he was just as invested in the argument. Now that he’d taken the bait, it was time to reel him in.
“Whoa, whoa!” Charlie rushed up, hands lifted to placate already. “Why are you two fighting?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie; Vox and I were merely discussing ancient history.” Alastor pulled back and stood up.
“Oh, perfect. Run away again, like always.” Vox leaned on his hand. “That way you won’t have to reveal to the Princess that it was actually your fault. That you were the one who fucked up for a change.” He smirked. “Seems I’m not the only one with an image of perfection. Seems like you’re just as desperate to maintain it as I’ve been.”
“Sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself. You and I both know exactly how it all would have played out. We’re better off as enemies; at least this way you can actually entertain me.” Alastor turned to leave.
Vox let the line fall slack; he had to move carefully or the line would break.
“Alastor, this seems like a great opportunity to clear the air! A mediated discussion, just the three of us, totally private and confidential,” Charlie offered sweetly. “Would you… at least consider it?”
“I am not a guest at this hotel, Charlie,” Alastor reminded her coolly. “I am not here seeking redemption or solace or a better life.”
“But wouldn’t you like closure?” she tried.
“Don’t bother with him, Princess,” Vox cut in, dismissive. Alastor’s ears flicked back toward him. “He’s just a crotchety old man set in his ways. He absolutely refuses to listen to reason from anyone. Don’t take it too hard.” He leaned on his hand; time to keep reeling. “Besides, what if it turned out he was wrong about something? Can you imagine? The shock might kill him!” Vox laughed meanly, his own canned laughter playing along.
Alastor glared at him over a stiff smile.
“Come on, Alastor, don’t be so uptight,” Cherri pushed. “Charlie’s pretty good at the whole counseling thing. Worst case, you just talk for a bit and go back to whatever you were doin’ before.”
“Guys, I don’t think…” Husk shot Alastor an anxious look with flattened ears. “Maybe leave well enough alone here.”
“Wow, Alastor, now you’ve even got your thrall worried we’re upsetting you. Fly off the handle often, do you?” Vox asked. His heart pounded in his chest.
This was it; do or die.
Alastor wrinkled his nose, static growling through Vox’s receivers, inaudible to the rest of the group. “If it will get you to drop the subject, then fine. We do it now; you have 15 minutes.”
Vox fought not to celebrate landing the biggest catch of his life or death. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Okay! A little short on time, but—whoa!” Charlie staggered as Alastor pulled all three of them into her office through the shadows.
Alastor brushed himself off and sat down primly on one of the arm chairs. “Go on then. Mediate.” He pulled out his watch. “Clock’s ticking.”
Vox straightened his clothes, pleased he’d managed not to trip like the first time Alastor had done that to him. He didn’t want Alastor laughing at him again, not until they were done talking.
“Before we get into it,” Charlie said carefully, “I wanted to know how you two first met. You were friends once, weren’t you?”
Alastor looked away with an eyeroll, but he didn’t argue with her. Vox frowned, but took the seat across from him. “What, no shutting down the friend thing? Is that just for me, then?” Vox asked. “There are no friends in Hell, wasn’t it?”
“You remember just fine, so I hardly need to repeat myself.” Alastor crossed one leg over the other. “Go on then, Vox. How did we meet?”
Charlie sat down on the edge of her desk, hands clasped in her lap. Her expression was rapt, focused on the two of them. Of course Alastor would make him tell it. Fucking asshole.
“I, uh.” Vox blushed. “Okay, so I was new in Hell, and… I might have… stalked Alastor a little bit.”
Alastor laughed. “A little bit! He followed me for six blocks!”
“I wasn’t sure he was who I thought he was,” Vox continued pointedly, “but I saw him walking one night, and, yeah, I followed him all the way to a bar, but he’d disappeared right after entering. I’d resigned myself to never knowing for sure, when he appeared behind me.” He laughed a little. “Scared the fucking shit out of me. You weren’t there, Princess, but Alastor was still broadcasting then, and… The presence alone.” He shook his head. “I thought he was going to kill me for some perceived insult, but… he didn’t.”
Alastor leaned back in his arm chair. “Well don’t you look strange. Explain to me why I shouldn’t kill you here and now. It’s quite rude to follow people, you know,” he quoted himself perfectly.
“I recognized his voice by that point, and I introduced myself. I… I was a huge fan, and as a fellow broadcaster, I wanted to pick his brain about Hell’s media landscape and what he made of it.” Vox looked down at his hands. “I offered to buy him a drink, and he agreed.”
“You wouldn’t recognize him,” Alastor mused. “Vox used to be a very different man.” Alastor’s voice had taken on a quiet edge, one Vox couldn’t read.
“So, what happened then? Did you keep meeting up?” Charlie asked.
“Not on purpose the next time, but yes. Eventually we… We met up a lot, honestly.” Vox smiled. “For years, even.”
“Five, in fact.” Alastor checked his watch. “Seven minutes left.”
“So then what happened?” Charlie asked. “Why did you stop? What made you fight?”
Vox leaned forward. “I made Alastor an offer of partnership, and he laughed in my face.”
“An offer of—” Alastor scoffed. “And now he lies to the Princess of Hell who is so nobly trying to help him. Shame on you, Vox.”
“What did I do, then? You tell the story, if you’re so sure I’m wrong.” Vox crossed his arms.
“You and I both know that was a pathetic attempt at manipulation. Despite my patience and generosity, you intended to ‘partner’ with me, and then kill and replace me as you preferred to do in life.” Alastor shook his head. “It was either laugh, or kill you for the insult.”
Charlie pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh my. That must have been very upsetting.”
Alastor looked away, ears pressing flat to his head. “Five minutes.”
“Al, I didn’t—it was the way I touched your shoulders, right? The thing you said before we fought, when you called me a creep—is that why you thought I was manipulating you?” Vox asked, desperation edging into his voice despite himself.
“You would deny it?” Alastor rolled his eyes.
“Yes! I was scared! You—You made me feel—I was grounding myself, not—I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was…” He closed his eyes, unable to continue with the Princess listening. He broadcast carefully over the airwaves between them, coded into static: I was being genuine.
Alastor uncrossed his legs, ears flicking. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”
“It’s true.” Vox clenched his hands on his pants. “I admired and respected you. If I’d tried to kill you, you would have laughed at me and put me on your broadcast! And I—I could never—” I could never replace you.
Alastor stood and slipped his watch back into his pocket. “Time’s up. If you’ll excuse me, there are other matters that require my attention.”
“Alastor, wait!” Charlie tried, but he was already gone.
Vox closed his eyes, going over Alastor’s expressions and reactions. Like hell was he ever moving on. “Princess,” Vox said, a giddy edge in his voice, “I might just owe you a favor for this one.” He laughed. “I finally have my answer.”
“You do?” Charlie frowned. “But he…”
“Al’s not one to give up his opinions and feelings lightly. But I have enough data now.” Vox hopped to his feet, electricity buzzing in his veins. “I’m going to confront him. If I end up on his broadcast, know that it’s my own fault, and I’m happy to be there, haunting his stupid ass for the rest of eternity.”
“What? Vox, no—”
Vox zipped into the wires and left the room before she could try to convince him to make the smart move. The smart move never worked on Alastor anyway; he only responded well to the unexpected. Vox hopped out of the wires in Alastor’s sitting room.
Alastor growled. “You have five seconds to leave, Vox.”
“I know you felt it, too! You’re—You’re still the best friend I’ve ever had,” Vox insisted. “Give me a chance to explain things. Please.”
“Why should I? Last time, you wanted to ruin a perfectly good evening by bringing business into it.” Alastor stalked over to his liquor cabinet and began pouring himself a drink. This one he knocked back at once. “What could you possibly say now that would change my mind?”
“I was scared you’d be disgusted with me if I made my actual offer outright,” Vox explained. “I was freshly dead, and you—Al, you burned brighter than any Sinner in Hell. I’ve never—I barely knew what I was feeling then, and I was still ashamed of it.”
“Ashamed? You?” He scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always been shameless.” Alastor poured himself another drink.
“Yeah, well, when your first time falling in love is with a man and in Hell, it’s a bit of a shock, okay?”
“Your what?” Alastor’s lips pressed together in a tight smile.
“You heard me.” Vox gestured to himself. “I’d never been in love before, and I—Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone else since. I… You were—are—everything to me, and I wanted us to be together all the time. I thought we were on the same page, so I made the only move I could think to make, and you—you broke my heart.”
Alastor laughed, hands fisting in his hair. “What are you talking about? Vox, you can’t be serious!”
“I am, though,” he said. He clenched his fists at his sides. “I was serious then, and I’m serious now. Alive or dead, the only person I’ve ever loved is you.” He looked away. “It’s why I can’t let go or move on, why I keep—” He let out a breath. “Velvette told me to get therapy and get over you. Val told me to move the fuck on already, so I agreed to come here and… Well, even if it feels impossible, I had to try, at least,” he lied.
“Try to what?”
“Get closure and move on.” That was what Vox told them, anyway. He just needed to make Alastor understand. “I mean, if you hate me, really hate me, it would be better for you too, right? After this, if you do hate me, I’ll—I’ll try to move on and get over you, and then we can be like strangers. Just fellow Overlords, nothing more.” Vox nearly shuddered to even imagine something so painful. He had to commit, he had to sell it, he needed Alastor to understand—to see…
“Like strangers?” Alastor moved back to his fireplace, gripping the mantle, drink forgotten on the sideboard. “Move on?” Alastor laughed again, a hand still fisted in his hair. “When exactly did I say you could do that, Vincent?”
“I wasn’t asking permission.” Vox held perfectly still. “What, you don’t want me to? I thought it would be more convenient for you. I know softer feelings tend to bore you,” he lied.
“You aren’t allowed,” Alastor snapped. “I won’t let you. I will haunt you until the day you finally manage to kill us both. I will never let you leave.” Shadows darkened at his feet, one of them stretching across the room to wrap around Vox’s ankles.
“Why not? Because I’m some fun toy? I’m an enemy you enjoy humiliating? I’m some fool you love to manipulate?”
“Yes,” Alastor snapped. He looked away. “No.”
“What, then, Al? What are we? What do you want from me?” he begged.
Alastor growled, static reaching a pitch that stung as it hit Vox’s antennae. He flinched, but refused to back down. Alastor tightened his hand in his hair before letting go. He stormed into Vox’s space and grabbed him by his lapel.
“You are an irritant.” Alastor’s antlers stretched, but his form otherwise held stable. “I should have killed you for the stalking and been done with it.”
“But you didn’t.” Vox didn’t struggle. “I still love you, Al. I’ve loved you the whole time. I was so desperate for your attention, I’d take anything, but after our last bout, when I was myself again, after I’d calmed down… I nearly killed you this time. I’ve never seriously… I didn’t want our game to end. Not like that.”
“And yet, that’s exactly what you’re proposing now,” Alastor said through gritted teeth. “An end to our games, as though we were never…”
Vox held his breath, but Alastor looked away, ears flattening to his head. He shoved Vox away from him and turned around.
“Al, I told you why Velvette and Val wanted me here, but only to make you understand what’s at stake. That’s not—I came here for a different kind of redemption.” He took a half step closer. “Can’t we try again?”
“Begging again, Vox? Pathetic.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Vox agreed. “Even if you can’t love me back, can’t we be friends again?”
“You expect me to believe you’d be satisfied with that?” Alastor scoffed. “You’re greedy, and you never know when to quit.”
Vox smiled. “Yeah. But do you actually have a problem with that? I’ll take it as slow as you need, but… don’t you miss it? I know I do. I’ve never been so close to someone before, and never someone who really knew me.” Vox let out a quiet breath. “No one else gets it, but what we had… It really was everything to me. How could I ever let go of that?”
“Then you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were.” Alastor held his arms, grip tight.
Vox edged a little closer. “Probably. Still true, though.” He stopped when Alastor’s shadow grew larger on the ground between them. It was frowning. “Please, Al.”
“And when it isn’t enough? When you keep wanting more from me?” Alastor shook his head. “I have other plans, you know. Your Vees would hold me back, and I don’t intend to deal you in.”
“Then don’t.” Vox rolled his eyes. “Al, you’re overcomplicating this. If it doesn’t work, we just go back to obsessively trying to kill each other.” He shrugged. “I won’t ask you to be my business partner again.” Vox considered that and hesitated, sparks caught on his fingers like he was a fresh Sinner again. “Okay, I probably will. But not for a while, at least. Cards on the table, I want… everything. Whatever you’ll give me, I want it, and I’ll ask for it.”
Alastor shook his head. “I’m not…” He fisted a hand in his hair again. “What if all I want to give you is violence?”
“I’ll take it.” Vox shuddered, remembering the sting of wires snapping, the grip of Alastor’s hand around his various extra components as he tore them off. “Not like I don’t enjoy having your full attention while you tear through my wires or cut into me.”
“And what exactly would I receive in exchange?”
“Whatever you want from me.” Vox laughed, feeling helpless in the face of it. “Anything. I’m all yours.”
Alastor shuddered, the fur on his ears standing on end. “Go away, Vox. I… I will think about your proposal. Alone.”
Vox sucked in a sharp breath. “O-Okay. Right. Um. I’ll wait for your reply, then.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Vox’s hands began to shake. “I, um. Thank you for hearing me out.”
“Now you sound like Charlie.” Alastor shot a look over his shoulder. With a hand still holding the side of his face, Vox could pretend the impervious smile was gone, replaced by… Stress and worry and fear, but maybe… Maybe a touch of exasperated humor, maybe something like hope.
But that last might just be Vox’s imagination.
“There are worse people to sound like.” Vox smiled. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you soon, then?”
“Yes, Vox. The sooner you leave, the sooner I’ll be able to answer you.”
Vox nodded quickly. “Bye, Alastor.” He slipped back into the electricity and raced back to his room, landing on his bed. How he was going to wait, he didn’t know, but if Alastor was thinking about it, that was far more than half the battle won already. Vox… He could wait a little while longer.
Alastor paced restlessly. This was not the plan. This was nowhere near the plan. What was he supposed to do now? “What is he thinking? Infuriating, ridiculous picture box,” he muttered to himself.
He was finally off his leash, finally free. Rosie’s ridiculous demand was now an entertaining side quest while he worked on reestablishing his broadcast. Heaven was no longer planning on holding exterminations. Things were finally looking up, and Vox wanted to change their script now?
I’ve loved you the whole time.
“Fuck,” he hissed. What was he supposed to do with that? How was he meant to respond?
In life, it had been easy. A simple rebuff, and the young lady left well enough alone. He’d had a reputation as a bit of a player. Good for a lark, but not the marrying kind, and that had done the trick. More alibis than he could shake a stick at, and no one the wiser.
In Hell, it was even easier. A no was a no, and it was an even harder no when you were the most powerful Sinner in Hell. People used to quake in fear at his mere mention. Even now, if people overstepped, he could always just kill them.
But with Vox…
Alastor stopped pacing in front of his vanity. His eyes fell from Niffty’s crown to Vox’s microphone. A gift to ‘help Alastor get with the times,’ Vox’s then-favorite model of microphone.
Why was Vox different?
He would never be content with what they had, no matter how much Alastor gave him, so why hadn’t he refused outright? Why was he wondering about it at all?
What would Vox ask for?
What would Vox offer? What would Vox give to be with him? What sacrifices would Vox make?
What did Alastor want from Vox?
Alastor traced a hand over the top of the microphone. He let out a slow breath.
Alastor wanted his attention, certainly. The idea of Vox withholding that was laughable and unthinkable both. Alastor wanted his respect and admiration, of course. His… His esteem. His favor. His friendship.
There are no friends in Hell, Vincent, Alastor had said as much to himself as to Vox, heart breaking along with his only true friendship in life or death.
Vox knew him as a radio host and as a violent killer. He found him interesting and charming and wanted to spend all his time with Alastor as if doing so didn’t risk Alastor eventually getting fed up and killing him.
But then, had that ever really been on the table?
Alastor leaned against the vanity and pushed a hand through his hair. Maybe that first night, but afterward? How could he ever kill someone who’d once made him so happy?
He closed his eyes.
“Am I really considering this?”
He had to be an even bigger idiot than Vox. Relationships between overlords were always a bad idea. How many had ended in disaster over his years in Hell? How many had ended with blood and tears and another dead overlord?
Relationships between overlords were as good as a marriage: ‘til death do you part.
Alastor touched the microphone again, this time following the line of metal connecting it to the base. I’ve always loved you. I really admire you.
Alastor pressed the same hand over his eyes and groaned. “I’m a damn fool.”
When push came to shove, for Alastor, it always came back to Vox. If he had the opportunity to have his Vox back, could he really pass it up? Wouldn’t Hell be more fun if he had someone to enjoy it with?
Maybe Vox was right. Maybe, as long as they stayed on the same page this time, their relationship wouldn’t need to end in one of their deaths. Maybe they could move seamlessly back to devoted enemies if it all fell to pieces.
Try as he might—and he’d never tried very hard—Alastor could never resist the call of another dance with the only partner he’d ever wanted in any capacity. But did he want more? Would he be okay with Vox inevitably asking for more than just drinks and dancing?
Alastor could still see Vox fucking the moth; it had been dreadfully dull and unimaginative. Vox had been obviously trying too hard. For a moment, Alastor had considered how he might best humiliate Vox, how he might put him back in his place when all was said and done.
Vox, arms pinned above his head by Alastor’s tentacles, while Alastor did… whatever he wanted to Vox’s body. That might not be so bad. Vox was desperate enough, he’d probably even enjoy it.
And maybe once he’d remembered his place, Alastor could reward him for good behavior. Playing with his antennae, teasing him, praising him. Vox was an easy read, and Alastor had every page memorized. He’d fall to pieces again and again, begging and pleading under Alastor’s hands. And it would be up to Alastor to decide when to grant him mercy.
Alastor licked his lips, interest and curiosity sparking in his blood. What new expressions would Vox give him? What new sounds could Alastor coax from his pretty throat?
Maybe this could work after all.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t let the man stew in it for a few days. Alastor could take the time to figure out some of his hard limits too, while he was still thinking about it. And wouldn’t Charlie be proud of him for that?
“Communication is the key to a healthy relationship,” he quoted. Alastor laughed to himself and settled in to think for a little while longer.
Vox stepped back into his room and leaned against the door with a sigh. No one had seen or heard from Alastor all day today either. Charlie kept giving him sympathetic looks, and Husk had begrudgingly reminded him that Alastor disappeared all the time. More than anything, Vox was disappointed that another day had gone by without Alastor finally putting him out of his misery.
He was doing it on purpose, right? He never took this long to decide on anything! Vox was the one who took ages to plan things; it was Alastor who was impulsive as anything. Not that you’d know it. If Vox tried to use a plan as half-baked as any of Alastor’s, it would get him killed.
Unfortunately, Alastor was obscenely good at everything he did, including, among other things, manipulating Vox into ending two different deals in one fell swoop. Not exactly his proudest moment; Vox was honestly a little embarrassed about it. Still, nothing he could do about any of that now.
Reluctantly, Vox began readying himself for bed. He changed into pajamas and put some of his things away for the night. Maybe tomorrow, he’d finally hear back, Vox told himself for the third time.
“Now, I do have conditions, naturally,” Alastor announced suddenly as he stepped out of the shadows.
Vox yelped, hand flying to his chest as though his heart could ever stop again. “Fuck, Al, warn a guy!”
“As you may recall, you did not knock on my door either.” Alastor rolled his eyes. “But if you’d rather I leave…?”
“No! No, please—um. Conditions?” Vox asked quickly.
Alastor smirked. “I initiate all new types of touch. To begin, you may touch me above the waist and below the neck only. Over clothes, except for my hands. Avoid my shoulders, though I will allow you to use one hand if you must. If you use two, I will cut the other off for you,” he stated simply.
“Okay, agreed. Question: does this mean I’m allowed to hug you?” Vox checked.
“Good question!” Alastor smiled sweetly. “No.”
“Understood. Can I ask for a hug that you initiate?”
Alastor narrowed his eyes. “I suppose. Don’t push it. And if you overdo it with the touching, you will lose privileges.” He tilted his head. “Next, you said you would give anything. I want you to be more specific. Would you give your soul? Your power?”
Vox frowned and narrowed his eyes. “How serious a question is this?”
“Fairly.” Alastor’s smile was unreadable as he made a show of examining his nails.
The question wasn’t a request, but based on how casual Alastor was playing it, it was still a serious question, so Vox considered it seriously. Would he give his soul to have Alastor? Would he give up being an overlord?
“I think…” He spoke carefully. “If you really wanted my soul, yes. I would give it to you. But I wouldn’t give up my power if I could help it. I’m more fun for you if I can fight, and I don’t want to lose that.”
Alastor hummed, but his expression gave nothing away. “I may someday involve you in my plans, but someday will not be soon. If you get in my way, I will fight you normally. If I get in the way of one of your schemes, I expect you to do the same.”
Vox nodded. “Okay. We keep business and pleasure separate.”
“Speaking of pleasure,” Alastor said. Vox nearly choked. “I expect exclusivity if you intend to convince me to let you have more than my friendship. No other sexual or romantic partners unless you want me to feed them to you.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “That includes your little arrangement with Valentino.”
“Consider it over and done with.” Vox had never made an easier trade. Val didn’t actually want him anyway; he just liked what Vox could do for him. If Angel offered him the same ultimatum, Val would make the same call.
Alastor nodded once and then continued. “If I destroy whatever device is following me, you will cease recording me for the rest of that outing, no exceptions. The outing will be considered over when I have returned to the hotel, ideally to my rooms.” He smirked. “In exchange, I will not destroy them without just cause, barring also fights and collateral damage.”
“You’ll let me keep spying on you?” Vox asked.
“Sure. I find it funny.” He pointed at Vox. “For fights between us, you may call whatever other Sinners you want, but do not call your stupid dog. I will not be held responsible for what happens to him when he gets between us.”
Vox blinked. “Wait, did that… Did that stress you out? Did you go out of your way to…” His eyes went wide. “He didn’t have a scratch on him.”
“No, he did not.” Alastor glared, ears flat. “Horrid, stupid creature. Do not summon him again.”
“Okay, okay.” Vox flushed. “I’ll, um, only use things I’m okay with you breaking or messing up. How’s that?”
“Acceptable.”
“Are we…” Vox hesitated. “Are we keeping the relationship secret?”
“Our friendship?” Alastor asked. “We’re not entering into a romantic relationship, Vox. But I don’t care if people know we’re spending time together socially. I won’t speak publically about it to your reporters, but if people talk, they talk.” He waved a hand dismissively. “That includes you, of course. I don’t control you.” He paused and considered that. “That said, don’t abuse the privilege or I’ll remove your tongue.”
“Noted.” Vox licked his lips. “Anything else?”
Alastor gave it some thought. “No. Not at present.”
“I was going to go to bed, but do you want to get a drink now? As friends? I could change.” Vox gestured to his pajamas.
Alastor rolled his eyes. “No need.” He snapped his fingers, and his clothes changed to a handsome set of pajamas in burgundy with white pinstripes. He summoned a bottle of rye and two glasses before taking a seat in Vox’s armchair.
Vox laughed, face no doubt still flushed. “Al, I… I won’t let you regret this.” He scratched the side of his neck and laughed a little shakily. “Honestly, I thought I’d need to do more to convince you.”
Alastor sighed, eyes on the glasses as he poured their drinks. “Don’t mistake me. Our enmity served me just fine. But…” He passed Vox his glass before taking a sip from his own. He leaned back in his seat. “I can’t deny I missed this.”
“You don’t drink with anyone else,” Vox observed.
“I don’t trust anyone else,” he corrected. “And I don’t intend to start now. Congratulations, you’re grandfathered in.”
Vox laughed. “Lucky me.”
“Now then, I’ve kept up with some of it, but the last seven years I was a little busy. Did any good films come out in that time?” Alastor asked.
Vox beamed. “Dozens! Where do you want to start?”
Alastor’s smile gentled, and his ears relaxed. He took a slow drink, savoring the taste, no doubt. “Start with your favorites.”
“Okay, so, you’ll like this one, it’s science fiction, but it’s also deeply weird. It’s called Annihilation,” Vox began.
Alastor stayed for hours, only leaving when they were both more than a little drunk. He laughed, loose and easy, as he got up to leave. “Oh, yes, this was a good idea. You’re just as cute as you used to be, no matter that hard exterior you’ve put on.” Alastor pinched the edge of his screen lightly.
Vox’s head swam. “Cute? You think I’m cute?”
“Mm, very. Charming too.” Alastor patted the top of his head. “Be a good boy and go right to bed, hm?”
“Y-Yeah, okay,” Vox breathed. “I, um, I love you, Al.”
“I know you do, pal.” Alastor didn’t seem uncomfortable with the idea, nor did he seem disinterested. Maybe Vox could… “Not gonna happen tonight, so don’t even think about it,” Alastor said, voice teasing.
“Sorry.” Vox grinned. “Already thinking about it. You didn’t say, but it’s okay if I still…?”
“Tell me? By all means, say what you like.” Alastor yawned. “But do go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Vox had a hard time falling asleep, mind whirling with the possibilities now open to him, but eventually he did fall asleep, and he dreamt only of Alastor’s smile, of Alastor finally and happily saying yes.