Oooh, two whole employees. How do you handle it all? Dealing with HR must be such a hassle, especially if they’re unionized.
[Ahh, how good the mocking laughter felt as it poured from his throat. Even the mention of the casino did nothing to smooth how superior he felt in this; it had nothing on his own business that was strong enough to have its own GDP. He smiled with the insecure ego confidence of someone who had the power to change the world.
And he would. He would.]
It must be a really hard day when the toilets clog and you have to deal with it, huh? [One pointed finger wiped a jovial tear from his eye as he spun in his chair once.] But we both know you’re not really in charge there.
[How were they faring? Hmm. Yes, he had spent time in front of his screens, but not as much the more the plan started to take shape and now that Alastor was here. But he had enough; the princess had her part to play and he needed to make sure she was puppeted just the right way.
Besides, he got his daily updates thanks to a special set of eyes on the inside…]
I don’t think any of them even care that you’re gone. You must not be that important to the place or them. [Fingers went back to the keyboard to type away.] I wouldn’t worry too much; I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them.
[ His expression shifted only slightly as Vox went on. He canted his head, growing more smug rather than less. He didn't feed on attention in the same way that Vox did. He didn't need it. He didn't need to grow closer to others for warmth in the winter, nor feel the sharp sting of their quills; rather, he produced his own internal warmth. He had few connections, but those he did were of the utmost quality. He had no business, but he had absolute power. Name recondition. Respect. Influence.
He had so much of what Vox did, but more of it. ]
It's two more than I need, [ He offered mildly, ] Because I don't have to depend on others. If there's something that I want, I simply take it.
[ The lateral half was curiously ignored, earning only a shrug of his shoulders. If there was anything of interest happening, the man would have been happy to rub it in, and what else could he say? He knew that he wouldn't be missed, and it had made it all that much easier to leave.
Though, well. Maybe he had hoped that Vox, at least, would recognize the fact that they should. He had certainly seemed concerned enough about what Alastor was doing there before.
But he wouldn't ignore these slights altogether. They had been together long enough now that he felt safe in shifting his position, growing just close enough to be able to hit Vox's thigh with the side of his foot. It wasn't a hard kick, but just enough to be felt, both affectionate and irritating. And of course, he was looking closely to see if he would get a reaction to it, because he was a grown man who acted like a child around this man in particular. ]
[Attention, the business, it was all part of a legacy, one he would be able to see it through this time. There was a part of him – forever curious – that wondered how things went after he died, what they said, what his name inspired in people. He hadn’t found someone to ask, not yet, but maybe once he had Heaven-
Well, it wouldn’t matter anymore. He would have the brightest legacy one could have.
And then maybe he wouldn’t want anyone anymore. Any help. Anyone to keep him warm (and they did a good job of it). Maybe it would be the thing he thought he had all this time, come to fruition.
Vox scowled as Alastor said that again, before shrugging.] I’m not so sure about that. You cared enough to give yourself up for the crazy chick and the furry; that’s a high price you were willing to pay for someone you don’t need.
[And was there something in Vox clawing at it? NOT IN A JEALOUS WAY, NO! Shut up! Why would Alastor give it up for them? Employees? Alastor didn’t have friends.]
You did something I wouldn’t do, so which one really needs someone else?
[Later, he would regret that, of course. When things were more out in the open, plans told, ideas obvious. For now, though, Vox was so sure on this line of thought…
He felt that foot on his thigh and let it derail his thoughts for a second. Pixels deepened in color and his back straightened a little; why was this asshole like this? His hand reached down and grabbed Alastor’s ankle, long fingers curling around it and not letting it down.]
You can’t even afford the place I go to get these pants dry cleaned. [Irritated, proud, smug. Curious. His thumb “accidentally” rubbed against the other overlord’s hem in a small circle.] Watch it before I take your shoes.
[ If Vox didn't want Alastor to be petty, then he shouldn't have given reason to be. He wasn't prepared for Vox to grab him, but there's little resistance even as he instinctively tries to pull away. There was, however, a small twitch in response to Vox's thumb rubbing against him.
He looked down to the hand holding his ankle next, waiting for the man to release him. ]
I have more money than I could ever hope to spend, and so do you. You can afford it.
[ He said that, though his financial situation was one more thing that no one had a good handle on. He wore clothes of high quality and wore luxury cologne, but the whiskey and cigarettes he bought were those which were popular and accessible during his era. He bought precious little else, and it was difficult to say what he had.
Fortunately, Vox could afford it, so it didn't matter. There was no problem at all. ]
And if you must know, I don't, and it wasn't for them. They were only part of the negotiations. I worked hard to obtain those two souls, so it would have been a waste not to.
[ It wasn't a lie, or at least not entirely. He had planned on drawing things out more. He had planned on having slightly different conditions. Still, the fact of the matter was that they were owned and not befriended, and he would sacrifice those two as readily as any other if it meant accomplishing his goals. Alastor doubted that the same could be said of him. ]
[Out of spite, just to be equally as irritating since he wasn’t the one who started it, Vox held that ankle a little longer.
Although he did raise his eyebrow a little. How much money did Alastor have? And how? That hotel was a money pit, an altruistic pipe dream for a delusional little girl. A cut of the casino, maybe? His broadcasts weren’t exactly known for their sponsors…]
Oh, I can afford a complete wardrobe a hundred times over and still have enough money to set on fire. The audience is always willing to pay for whatever I feel like selling them, and they only need a push about half the time.
[The dark rings of his eyes spiraled in a mesmerizing pattern for a second to prove the point, before begrudgingly letting go of that ankle finally. Here, Alastor, enjoy the minor freedom. It was the only gift he felt like giving.
Vox chair creaked a little as he leaned back, listening to that vague explanation. It wasn’t for them, but they were part of the negotiations? Huh. What did that mean? He didn’t think the man was lying; telling enough of the truth to be a smug, cryptic, annoying asshole was always part of the game.]
So, if it wasn’t for them, then why?
[Asking the question annoyed him, made him feel less like this was an earned victory.]
[ Alastor nodded along as Vox explained his riches, lifting his shoulders and letting them drop back down. He could afford it a hundred times over, so there was no problem if Alastor dirtied his pants. He could just get new ones.
He was quick to pull his foot back once it was released. He crossed his legs once more. ]
For myself, of course. Who else is there? The entire reason that I called you out was to put an end to things myself. Killing you didn't work, so this was the next best thing.
[ It was said in a roundabout way that allowed him to save face, but the implication was clear: He couldn't kill Vox, which meant Vox could kill him, and capture was preferable to death. Vox did have him pinned to the wall at the end, after all. (Nevermind that anyone who was watching would be hard pressed to think he was in any real danger when Vox just let Alastor push him away with his index finger.)
To anyone who was watching, it would have seemed to be a given that the Radio Demon had planned on killing the Media Overlord. That should have been what happened, which is what made his capture so sensational. Not a bad performance, if he did say so himself. ]
[Vox didn’t buy it, not one ounce. It was fake news, but arguing on it wouldn’t get the full truth out. He wasn’t foolish enough to think otherwise.
Although, he did sit up a little straighter, a little proud as he said -]
Damn right you couldn’t kill me, and not just because of your little owie.
[His eyes flickered to Alastor’s chest, knowing the stitched angelic wound under his jacket and shirt. It had slowed him down enough that Vox had gotten enough upper hands to make this all possible (that and absolutely nothing else, clearly). He wondered how deep it went, if it would ever heal, or if he would face his inevitable execution with it still bleeding.
And Vox would never acknowledge being pushed away that easily. Just like he would never admit that it had nothing to do with raw power and everything to do with it being…Alastor. Asshole.
One of his cables touched the back of the Radio Demon’s chair and spun it for good measure, because he could.]
I’m glad you came to the truth, though: you can’t kill me. I won’t lose to you, to your little goody-two-shoes boss, to Heaven, anyone. My personal stock has risen to new heights and I’m only going to take it higher. I won. I’m not even up there and I’ve won.
[ Alastor squeezed his eyes shut as the chair spun around. He should have expected it, but this instance happened to catch him off guard. His head canted slightly when he came to a stop, ears flopping in the opposite direction of him. He was listening to him less. He was less attentive. It was only for a handful of seconds, though, before they straightened back up. ]
Your goons helped you defeat me, but in the end, you were able to. You three forced me to yield.
[ He was deliberately using any terminology that could show real weakness here, but just enough that he could make a defeat palatable. It really was fortunate that the wires clinging to him were below that injury of him. The injury wasn't even cared for properly, having just a half-assed stitch job, so it would have been quite painful otherwise.
He gave a wide grin in return. ]
I can't kill you. That doesn't mean that Charlie can't, and it certainly doesn't mean that you won't fall to Heavenly arms. In fact, I'd say the one benefit of this little deal is that I have a front row seat to seeing you fall flat on your face.
[For the moment, the ears were ignored. Goons? He knew what it meant: underlings, sure. People he controlled. And it wasn’t completely wrong as he was in charge, but it wasn’t right either. They were friends. Moreso, they were as much of a family as one could have in Hell. Just a family he was head of.
Alastor couldn’t say the same about his lackeys.]
No, they kept yours away from interfering. Me beating you was all me.
[Give him credit where credit was due, right? He had done it, he wore the crown, he led the parade. Val and Velvette helped keep it private (and maaaaybe a stray bullet or six were pointed at Alastor), but it was his own laurels that he rested on. Don’t you forget that.
There was a leveled look at him.]
Is that a joke?
[Flat face? Television? Rude.
He shook his head before raising a hand and curling the fingers into a fist. Heaven wasn’t going to take him down, not with what he had planned, what little tools were starting to be built. It was his already; they just didn’t know it yet, but he was excited to show them.
He pushed away from the desk and walked to the other side, sitting on the edge next to Alastor’s chair. One hand reached out and patted him on the shoulder.]
Your princess won’t touch me; she would try to save me first, and we both know that isn’t happening. As for Heaven, I’ve got that covered. The army I’m building should have everyone up there pissing in their boots. And as I sit in whatever throne they have up there, I’m going to find a way to broadcast this to all seven rings.
[ And that was true. Vox was completely dependent on others. He was the one who was shackled and chained to his partners, while Alastor needed neither of the souls that he owns. In fact, they were dependent on him. He lifted his chin upon hearing the claim that it was all Vox's work, his expression growing both more smug and more mocking. That wasn't even close to the truth, not yet.
The question was met with a shrug. He was above making jokes about Vox's head, it was too much of a cliche, but the turn of phrase really was made for Vox. His flat face would fall flat. He had been quite deliberate in saying it that way, and it really was a shame that Vox couldn't appreciate it.
The pat to the shoulder is accepted, and he looked up to Vox. ]
You see, that unearned confidence of yours is what will make it so satisfying to see your plan fall apart. There's nothing more satisfying than that moment when a person with an overinflated sense of confidence realizes they've lost everything. You should know the feeling well.
[ How satisfying it was, that is. The path to becoming an overlord was paved with blood and bodies and endless suffering, and there really was a special kind of satisfaction that came with being able to facilitate and witness it. ]
[Heeey. He wasn’t dependent! He could do just fine without them. It was simply the lot of any CEO to have employees, for any king to have servants, for a god to have worshippers. His role was bigger than a silent, monstrous threat that dwelled in the shadows; he was going to be seen. Control those around him.
That…that was different. Completely different. If he was in command (his rightful place to be, mind you), then no one would be above him. No one could command him, subjugate him, could ridicule him.
Could hurt himagain.
Vox spun him around again so he wouldn’t have to stare at how smug those eyes were, how sure they were that he would fail. If this smiling asshole would just believe him-]
Last time I checked, deer were prey animals. In fact, there’s a whole week dedicated to how useless, weak, and stupid deer are; it gets gooood ratings.
[Almost as good as Shark Week.]
I’ve broken a lot of people to get where I am, and you’re just another number. [The highest number. The most important. Vox leaned down to get on his level.] I can’t wait to prove to you how wrong you are.
[The champagne would flow, something to get him good and drunk so he didn’t have to think about the hole left after.]
You’re tied up and at my mercy, the front seat to all my greatness. The rally is tomorrow, and you’ll see. They will all see.
[ His ears tilted back again at the mention of deer, but they perked back up quickly enough. He hated this form, he hated those ears and antlers that defined him as an animal. He hated that how hard it was to hide his emotions when he had a part of his body that tried to move on instinct even now. One would never know for how expressive he's been since arriving in Vee Tower, but he took great care to keep them straight up. He hated it, but he had never been prey. Alastor was a predatory in life, and he has been in death.
But he didn't entirely mind hearing that there was an entire week dedicated to deer. There's only man that would go through all the effort of setting that up, and it was the one who was completely and totally obsessed with him. Ever desperate for his attention.
But he watched as Vox averted his gaze, then returned it, and as he moved himself down to Alastor's level. That attitude was better. It was what Alastor wanted to see. It was defiant, determined, the look and voice of a person who would do anything to propel himself to the top.
He thought to press that point more. It would have been nothing if not easy to continue to mock him and remind him that all anyone will be seeing in the end is what a failure he is. The thought was there, but he had to break up the monotony of mockery and discouragement here and there. Vox was one more person who would smile and push through any setback in his way, someone who couldn't be completely broken, so there was no real concern, but it would get boring for both of them.
So instead he says, ]
If you keep leaning in so close, I'm going to start to think that you're interested in something else entirely.
[ He would let Vox fill in the blanks on that one, but his eyes did briefly trail down to his hips, right around where the man's waistband was with no intention of implying something whatsoever. ]
[There were a lot of things Vox expected from Alastor, a lot more that he outwardly hoped (pleading for his life? apologies for the past?), and then there was this. The thing that made his screen blank out in full static before changing to bunch of colored bars, then back to his face.
His deeply blushing face and giant eyes.]
Wha-
[He made a raspberry with his lips, blowing the air out quickly before he waved his hand.]
N-No! I’m not- no! Why would you think that?!
[He was protesting too much, too hard, too vehemently, and the cycle made his face darken even more. Fuck, he didn’t want- No. Alastor? Once, maybe. Back then. Not-not now?
Totally not now.
Nooooooo.
Uh uh. ]
You’re clearly projecting.
[There’s that spin that came naturally. Well, normally naturally; this time? Not so much.]
[ Alastor wouldn't think that. In fact, he wouldn't think it. There was a certain level of curiosity now, though, watching that series of reactions, and he did scoot his chair a little closer. Vox is sitting atop the desk now, and that means that Alastor is at the exact perfect height to mess with him. He scooted a little closer, and he tilted his head at just the right angle to work around Vox's shirt and take the hem of Vox's pants in his teeth, pulling it out and snapping it. It's not nearly as sexy with dress pants as it is with jeans, much less boxers, but those eyelids are lowered enough to be suggestive.
He would be polite enough to pull back directly after. He didn't quite push back, but instead leaned back in the chair and tilted his head up with that ever present toothy grin before he finally said - ]
I wouldn't. You alone are immune to my charms.
[ He uncrossed his legs so he could plant his feet firmly on the ground with his legs spread apart in what was a perfectly normal amount for a man, since he crossed them more as a learned habit, for no other reason than that it allowed him more stability as he leaned back, heels lifting just slightly before he pushed back down. ]
And I have no interest in you.
[ And to whether or not that was true, well... Who knew? It was impossible to tell from that toothy grin. ]
It didn’t really matter if he never breathed again; he would come back over and over until his body got in line. But for now, the entirety of breathing, of thinking, left him. Electrical sparks danced over the edges of his head and down into the points of the claws as they curled around the desk edge. He could feel his heartbeat slamming against the prison of his ribs.
What was happening?
This had to be a trick, something Alastor was going to laugh at and tease him over. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything other than a reason to keep that stupid smile there. Alastor was mocking him.
Right?]
Damn right I am.
[Which might have been more convincing if his voice hadn’t cracked when he said it. Was it from before or because of the way he was sitting now? It was rare to see him without his legs crossed, and for a second Vox looked between them, where they were open, before back up to Alastor’s eyes.
He had dreams that started suspiciously like this over the years, but this felt too real to be one of those.
Vox started to lean forward, as if he could close the distance and-
And I have no interest in you.
The old hurts tangled up in the bottom of his stomach, another humiliation ritual like so long before. Why? This was crueler than the slaughters over his radiowaves. Fingers tightened on the desk, cracking the wood as his silent wounds seeped inside his chest. That smiling fucking face-]
You say that, but you’re the one that just came onto me!
[What an asshole. What a rude asshole and it wasn’t fair that there was something in Vox aching for his validation, for his acknowledgement, for just one stupid kis-]
What makes you think I have an interest in you? [His shoes scuffed the floor in front of his desk.] Val makes sure that my bed isn’t exactly empty at night.
[ Those last words were a stroke of luck, because Alastor was pushing too far in too certain of a direction. It allowed him to dismiss anything he might have felt, because he was too traditional to share. He was too selfish, he was too insecure, to not want to monopolize a partner's affection.
That was not to say that he resented the other Vees, of course - he had the same respect for them that he did all other Overlords. Rather, while Vox's little show of voyeurism had been nothing but tiring and an exercise in frustration, he did feel a certain amount of resentment for how much more they seemed to be. It was a complicated feeling, one that was on the whole unfamiliar, and one that seemed to be shared between them.
They were jealous of each other.
Alastor blinked lazily as his eyes rose up to meet Vox's once more. He had noted all those little reactions. He had delighted in them. There were certain little things that only he could draw out, and it made his heart race, and there was a chill that ran down his spine when the man leaned forward. It ended too fast, it was humiliating, but it was thrilling too.
He couldn't give, not yet. Not as long as there was that manacle around his neck, choking the life out of him; not because of any limitations pressed upon him, but because he would do nothing and form nothing so long until that chain was gone. He would risk nothing. He would allow for nothing to be gained that might be lost, and he might do the same after breaking it. But while it was there, nothing could be done.
But he did shift a bit. Vox had leaned in faster than expected, and he wasn't quite sure how to salvage it all, save saying what he had, and he settled on trying to shift back to the original subject - ]
You three will rule Heaven as equals. I'm just your little prisoner.
[Homewrecker? That was putting a lot of assumptions into the relationship that he and Val had, when it was a known fact that their situation was open (a thought that could have made him growl over Angel Dust, but that was neither here nor there). Nothing was going to turn Val into monogamous, and besides...there was always a silent antler-bearing shadow on Vox’s side anyway.
But still, he wasn’t about to get into the specifics of his arrangement with Val, and instead just waved his arms around his waist and pants, before turning them and waving that at Alastor. It was a frantic and obvious motion, an explanation without words.]
Um, I don’t know, maybe whatever that was?
[‘Homewrecker’. It was a perfectly antiquated word that he would expect only from Alastor and maybe one of those royal birds mentioned outside of this city. Alastor had indeed wrecked a home, but it was a hypothetical one decades ago.
And here the Radio Demon was trying to act like nothing just happened, gaslighting him into thinking maybe he read too far into whatever that was. Dammit, why was it always a game, a grift, a trap? Why did he always try to embarrass him? No one else ever got away with it except him. He had killed so many people for suck lesser slights.]
Oh, no. No, no, no. You don’t get to brush this off. [It was his turn to move his leg, planting his foot on the chair between Alastor’s uncrossed thighs. He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as if he could read the ones across from him.]
What the fuck are you playing at? Are you trying to wreck my home or be my prisoner?
does this give him more or less motivation to take over heaven
[ Alastor looked down to Vox's foot, now positioned quite nicely between his legs, and found that he had no one to blame but himself for this precarious position. He had teased the man too much, and now he had no choice but to decide what direction he wanted to take this in, or rather, whether or not he wanted to continue with this. He was the prisoner, but he had complete control over what direction things would go in.
Maybe it was him playing games, and maybe it was him teasing Vox, but that didn't mean that he wasn't curious.
He brought his eyes back up to meet Vox's. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction. But it only took a few seconds of thought before he responded with a shrug.
Fuck it. He's committed now. ]
Well now, that depends, doesn't it? Which one are you asking for?
[ He was Vox's prisoner either way, but he wasn't going to be the one to kill the mood by pointing that out. ]
Too early to tell. Depends on how bad he fucks it up LOL
[The question almost, almost made him back up and rethink all of this. Not the capturing and prisoner and winning thing; that was written in stone and blood and he wouldn’t give that up. But this moment? This moment was precarious, and his mind turned this into a white-board presentation, complete with spider-web chart.
Point number one to remember: Vox was in charge. He commanded this whole thing, he had a prisoner, he was going to take over Heaven, it was fine.
Point number two: Alastor had a history of humiliating him, finding ways to embarrass him, get under his skin. Why wouldn’t this be a set up for just that?
Point number three: He had a good thing going with the others. Messing that up could jeopardize the plan, and while he could repair whatever, it would take resources, bandwidth, and time.
Point number four: Had Alastor ever shown any interest before? He…wasn’t sure.
Seconds were ticking by with nothing to fill them. Dammit. If he answered, it gave Alastor too much power to jerk him in either direction. He needed to treat this like any company acquisition meeting: distant, careful, and sharp.]
There’s nothing saying that it can’t be both.
[Negotiations often started high and worked their way down. And besides, it wasn’t like Hell cared about annoying things like ethics.]
I’m starting to think you’re the one who doesn’t know what you want.
He has a chance, but if he fumbles it, he has to take over heaven to unlock the R18+ scene
[ Did he have any interest before? It was hard to say. Their relationship wasn't one that could be sorted into neat boxes. Their feelings ran too deep for that, they were too conflicted. They antagonized each other, they attacked each other, and the moment that one tried to get away, the other would drag them back down into the pit that they'd both dug over the years. He didn't know exactly when it happened or who had started it, but one had went to tie the other up, and gotten caught and tangled up int he mess of wires and strings that they were wrapping around the other. Or maybe it was the opposite, and it was because they'd each wanted to tether the other that they'd wound up trapped in this cycle. None of that allowed for them to consider much more. That chance had disappeared seventy years ago.
But that doesn't mean he hadn't been thinking about it. You two should just fuck already. Talk about getting straight to the point.
He watched in silent, patient, as he waited for the other to come to a conclusion. The grin stretched out, and there was a moment in which he wondered if he'd miscalculated, because, well - it's not as though he were incapable of feeling emotion. He could handle it much better, but he was nonetheless as prone to being embarrassed by misreading someone's intention as anyone else. And in this situation in particular, they're stuck with each other. ]
That's not an answer. Though I will say, I'm not doing anything while I'm tied to a chair.
[ Even if Vox could have it be both, this was just awkward. Snapping a person's waistband with one's teeth could easily be sexy, but the struggle to find the right angle and tilt for it dampened the effect. There was far more that he could do with free hands and a bit of mobility. ]
[Seven years there had been nothing, not a word, not a sound, just rumors to fill the void. Vox had thought he had been free, but freedom was a void if he let it be. He had scoured everything, every camera, every news line, every – uggh – radio station, and it had been nothing. He should’ve been happy.
He told himself he had been happy.
He was supposed to be happy.
He flourished in work, expanded the networks and focused more on sponsorships and R&D than ever before. Some nights were spent wound up in Val both with work, sex, and weirdly domestic, and others were pouring over monitors. He had won. He had won.
And then Alastor had returned and everything was unmoored again, his footing tilted. The obsession threatened to drag him back down, as if he wasn’t already anchored to the depths this entire time. There was no explanation for where he had been, what he was doing, nothing. Just…suddenly there. Smiling. Always smiling.
Now Vox was here, keeping Alastor as a prisoner, having won again, and he should be happy (was happier than the silence of seven years). But instead there was just this conflict because no, no, you cocky, smug, unholier-than-thou asshole, he didn’t have an answer. Dammit. And worse was that he thought Alastor knew that.
He made a show of rolling his eyes as he pushed off the desk, reached out, and sliced through the rope with his fingers. It wasn’t like Alastor would leave or fight him (probably?); the ropes were mostly for show, demoralizing, propaganda shots, and his own satisfaction.
That done, he reclaimed his seat on the edge of the desk, facing Alastor.]
This doesn’t change anything. We still have a deal.
[The easiest deal in all of Hell. What could go wrong?]
He does, but I get it on this one... If I had this man in front of me, I would fumble too.
The ropes were cut, and that was enough to afford him an answer. It wasn't a decisive one, but Vox could always change his mind halfway through. For the moment, Alastor had no issue with being the one to take the lead.
He stood up, taking his time in stretching out to loosen up his stiff muscles and work the kinks out of his back. He placed his hands on the small of his back as he leaned to pop his back. Much better.
Once he was satisfied, Alastor rubbed his wrist. He was ever aware of the shackles that kept him bound to Vox, ones that could manifest at any moment. He was right. Nothing had changed, and nothing would change. Their deal would remain in place until Vox dissolved it, either willingly or by breaking it. The former was never an option, and so he was counting on the latter.
But that would come later. For now, he offered a resigned nod in return before he took a seat on the next next to the other. He was close enough for their shoulders to brush together, but left just enough space for it to keep from being uncomfortable. ]
I haven't forgotten. I didn't mention leaving as one of the options, now did I?
[ He reached over as he spoke, a clawed finger touching the ball of his antenna and lightly drawing it forward before releasing it to let it spring back into place. This was just a way for them to kill time, to entertain themselves. ]
[There were so many sounds in the office and it was difficult not to get lost in them. The bubbling of the tank. The creak of the chair as Alastor slid out of it. The popping of bones as he stretched, only interrupted by the sound of his shoes a second later.
The little boing of his antenna as it was bounced back and forth after it was toyed with. ]
That doesn’t mean it hasn’t crossed your mind.
[Don’t do that. Don’t touch his antenna. In retaliation (and because sometimes he could act like a spiteful child), he reached up and flicked one of Alastor’s small antlers. It was nowhere near as satisfying, no motions or sounds to speak of, but it made him feel better. Slightly.
He settled his hand down on the desk again, gripping it. Nerves were electrifying inside him, anxiety a low roll under his skin, something seventy years old that he swore he had lost. It felt like a trap. It always felt like a trap now with him but this was charged, moreso. Val and Velvette would never let him hear the end of it if they saw Alastor out, and he was questioning his own judgement at the moment.
Where was the catch? What was he missing?]
If you try to kill me, I’m throwing you in the tank.
[ That flick to the antler earned him a glare, his ears laying back, but the annoyance only lasts a few seconds. They're both petty children.
He watched the reaction with interest. He had never stopped paying attention to Vox, and with the years he had only taken more pleasure in seeing what reactions he could pull from the man - reactions that were offered up to and meant for him alone, because he didn't need to see how the man acted in private to know that they could never have the same. It only became more obvious as he refined his look, as he settled more into that role of a public figure, found ways to spin every story except those about the Radio Demon.
He placed his hand over Vox's angling himself so that his knees were bumping up against the other. He leaned forward and used his free hand to take the corner of the other's head. He was still deciding what he wanted to do here. It had might have been a hundred years since he'd been with anyone. There wase no reason for such performative gestures in Hell. And that was to say nothing of the man's unique anatomy.
He tilted the other's head more toward him, and held it as place as he rubbed his cheek. His fingers curled lightly around the one he had placed it over. There was no effort to disrupt his grip, but just to apply a measure of pressure. ]
Is that all? I think you could come up with a more... fitting punishment.
[ He leaned forward as he spoke, his voice dropping, until his forehead was tapping against the other's, his ears tilted forward. Vox had his full attention now. He gave the other but a couple seconds to process that thought before leaning in to punctuation it with a kiss - soft and short to stop.
It was all just bluster, anyway. The only real threat was that somebody would barge in on them... It would be easy to spin, but Vox was too focused on image to want to be caught like this to begin with, much less being seduced by his "prisoner." That wasn't Alastor's problem, though, so he wasn't thinking about it at all. ]
[Finally, finally, Vox had his undivided attention. It was rich, a top-shelf aged brandy to savor as it burned him from the inside. Was it safe to have the full attention of a serial killer?
When was “safe” a word to be used in Hell?
There was the smallest bit of tension in his body as he tried to pull back a few inches when his cheek was rubbed. It was a sweet gesture, affectionate, and it caught him completely off-guard. It was weirdly more disturbing than the intimate violence they had spewed at each other not that long ago. Funny how the blood and rage felt more comfortable than this.
Fuck, was this what being vulnerable felt like? It had been a long time, and he didn’t miss the fear that came with it.
When their foreheads met, he didn’t pull back, even as his breath hitched a little. When was the last time they had been this close? On the desk, his hand let go of the ledge and turned up, curling in Alastor’s as if he could regain some control. Control. He needed his control back. He was drowning, floundering, when he should have been a shark in these seas.
H-he could sex, dammit! He literally spent his nights with the Sex King!
Okay. He had this. Vox kissed him back, disappointing at how short it was. He followed after him, trying to grab another one, the free hand reaching over to settle on Alastor’s waist and squeezing it.]
I could throw you out the window. [He wouldn’t; it was too fast, too impersonal, he wouldn’t see the moment of impact. That was reserved for network execs. Instead, he let the electricity in body ramp up just enough to make that fur on those ears stand up.]
Or I could let you become part of the ever-buzzing electrical grid of my empire.
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[Ahh, how good the mocking laughter felt as it poured from his throat. Even the mention of the casino did nothing to smooth how superior he felt in this; it had nothing on his own business that was strong enough to have its own GDP. He smiled with the
insecure egoconfidence of someone who had the power to change the world.And he would. He would.]
It must be a really hard day when the toilets clog and you have to deal with it, huh? [One pointed finger wiped a jovial tear from his eye as he spun in his chair once.] But we both know you’re not really in charge there.
[How were they faring? Hmm. Yes, he had spent time in front of his screens, but not as much the more the plan started to take shape and now that Alastor was here. But he had enough; the princess had her part to play and he needed to make sure she was puppeted just the right way.
Besides, he got his daily updates thanks to a special set of eyes on the inside…]
I don’t think any of them even care that you’re gone. You must not be that important to the place or them. [Fingers went back to the keyboard to type away.] I wouldn’t worry too much; I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them.
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He had so much of what Vox did, but more of it. ]
It's two more than I need, [ He offered mildly, ] Because I don't have to depend on others. If there's something that I want, I simply take it.
[ The lateral half was curiously ignored, earning only a shrug of his shoulders. If there was anything of interest happening, the man would have been happy to rub it in, and what else could he say? He knew that he wouldn't be missed, and it had made it all that much easier to leave.
Though, well. Maybe he had hoped that Vox, at least, would recognize the fact that they should. He had certainly seemed concerned enough about what Alastor was doing there before.
But he wouldn't ignore these slights altogether. They had been together long enough now that he felt safe in shifting his position, growing just close enough to be able to hit Vox's thigh with the side of his foot. It wasn't a hard kick, but just enough to be felt, both affectionate and irritating. And of course, he was looking closely to see if he would get a reaction to it, because he was a grown man who acted like a child around this man in particular. ]
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Well, it wouldn’t matter anymore. He would have the brightest legacy one could have.
And then maybe he wouldn’t want anyone anymore. Any help. Anyone to keep him warm (and they did a good job of it). Maybe it would be the thing he thought he had all this time, come to fruition.
Vox scowled as Alastor said that again, before shrugging.] I’m not so sure about that. You cared enough to give yourself up for the crazy chick and the furry; that’s a high price you were willing to pay for someone you don’t need.
[And was there something in Vox clawing at it?
NOT IN A JEALOUS WAY, NO! Shut up!Why would Alastor give it up for them? Employees? Alastor didn’t have friends.]You did something I wouldn’t do, so which one really needs someone else?
[Later, he would regret that, of course. When things were more out in the open, plans told, ideas obvious. For now, though, Vox was so sure on this line of thought…
He felt that foot on his thigh and let it derail his thoughts for a second. Pixels deepened in color and his back straightened a little; why was this asshole like this? His hand reached down and grabbed Alastor’s ankle, long fingers curling around it and not letting it down.]
You can’t even afford the place I go to get these pants dry cleaned. [Irritated, proud, smug. Curious. His thumb “accidentally” rubbed against the other overlord’s hem in a small circle.] Watch it before I take your shoes.
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He looked down to the hand holding his ankle next, waiting for the man to release him. ]
I have more money than I could ever hope to spend, and so do you. You can afford it.
[ He said that, though his financial situation was one more thing that no one had a good handle on. He wore clothes of high quality and wore luxury cologne, but the whiskey and cigarettes he bought were those which were popular and accessible during his era. He bought precious little else, and it was difficult to say what he had.
Fortunately, Vox could afford it, so it didn't matter. There was no problem at all. ]
And if you must know, I don't, and it wasn't for them. They were only part of the negotiations. I worked hard to obtain those two souls, so it would have been a waste not to.
[ It wasn't a lie, or at least not entirely. He had planned on drawing things out more. He had planned on having slightly different conditions. Still, the fact of the matter was that they were owned and not befriended, and he would sacrifice those two as readily as any other if it meant accomplishing his goals. Alastor doubted that the same could be said of him. ]
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Although he did raise his eyebrow a little. How much money did Alastor have? And how? That hotel was a money pit, an altruistic pipe dream for a delusional little girl. A cut of the casino, maybe? His broadcasts weren’t exactly known for their sponsors…]
Oh, I can afford a complete wardrobe a hundred times over and still have enough money to set on fire. The audience is always willing to pay for whatever I feel like selling them, and they only need a push about half the time.
[The dark rings of his eyes spiraled in a mesmerizing pattern for a second to prove the point, before begrudgingly letting go of that ankle finally. Here, Alastor, enjoy the minor freedom. It was the only gift he felt like giving.
Vox chair creaked a little as he leaned back, listening to that vague explanation. It wasn’t for them, but they were part of the negotiations? Huh. What did that mean? He didn’t think the man was lying; telling enough of the truth to be a smug, cryptic, annoying asshole was always part of the game.]
So, if it wasn’t for them, then why?
[Asking the question annoyed him, made him feel less like this was an earned victory.]
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He was quick to pull his foot back once it was released. He crossed his legs once more. ]
For myself, of course. Who else is there? The entire reason that I called you out was to put an end to things myself. Killing you didn't work, so this was the next best thing.
[ It was said in a roundabout way that allowed him to save face, but the implication was clear: He couldn't kill Vox, which meant Vox could kill him, and capture was preferable to death. Vox did have him pinned to the wall at the end, after all. (Nevermind that anyone who was watching would be hard pressed to think he was in any real danger when Vox just let Alastor push him away with his index finger.)
To anyone who was watching, it would have seemed to be a given that the Radio Demon had planned on killing the Media Overlord. That should have been what happened, which is what made his capture so sensational. Not a bad performance, if he did say so himself. ]
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Although, he did sit up a little straighter, a little proud as he said -]
Damn right you couldn’t kill me, and not just because of your little owie.
[His eyes flickered to Alastor’s chest, knowing the stitched angelic wound under his jacket and shirt. It had slowed him down enough that Vox had gotten enough upper hands to make this all possible (
that and absolutely nothing else, clearly). He wondered how deep it went, if it would ever heal, or if he would face his inevitable execution with it still bleeding.And Vox would never acknowledge being pushed away that easily. Just like he would never admit that it had nothing to do with raw power and everything to do with it being…Alastor. Asshole.
One of his cables touched the back of the Radio Demon’s chair and spun it for good measure, because he could.]
I’m glad you came to the truth, though: you can’t kill me. I won’t lose to you, to your little goody-two-shoes boss, to Heaven, anyone. My personal stock has risen to new heights and I’m only going to take it higher. I won. I’m not even up there and I’ve won.
[He smiled wide.]
Say it.
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Your goons helped you defeat me, but in the end, you were able to. You three forced me to yield.
[ He was deliberately using any terminology that could show real weakness here, but just enough that he could make a defeat palatable. It really was fortunate that the wires clinging to him were below that injury of him. The injury wasn't even cared for properly, having just a half-assed stitch job, so it would have been quite painful otherwise.
He gave a wide grin in return. ]
I can't kill you. That doesn't mean that Charlie can't, and it certainly doesn't mean that you won't fall to Heavenly arms. In fact, I'd say the one benefit of this little deal is that I have a front row seat to seeing you fall flat on your face.
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Just a family he was head of.Alastor couldn’t say the same about his lackeys.]
No, they kept yours away from interfering. Me beating you was all me.
[Give him credit where credit was due, right? He had done it, he wore the crown, he led the parade. Val and Velvette helped keep it private (and maaaaybe a stray bullet or six were pointed at Alastor), but it was his own laurels that he rested on. Don’t you forget that.
There was a leveled look at him.]
Is that a joke?
[Flat face? Television? Rude.
He shook his head before raising a hand and curling the fingers into a fist. Heaven wasn’t going to take him down, not with what he had planned, what little tools were starting to be built. It was his already; they just didn’t know it yet, but he was excited to show them.
He pushed away from the desk and walked to the other side, sitting on the edge next to Alastor’s chair. One hand reached out and patted him on the shoulder.]
Your princess won’t touch me; she would try to save me first, and we both know that isn’t happening. As for Heaven, I’ve got that covered. The army I’m building should have everyone up there pissing in their boots. And as I sit in whatever throne they have up there, I’m going to find a way to broadcast this to all seven rings.
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The question was met with a shrug. He was above making jokes about Vox's head, it was too much of a cliche, but the turn of phrase really was made for Vox. His flat face would fall flat. He had been quite deliberate in saying it that way, and it really was a shame that Vox couldn't appreciate it.
The pat to the shoulder is accepted, and he looked up to Vox. ]
You see, that unearned confidence of yours is what will make it so satisfying to see your plan fall apart. There's nothing more satisfying than that moment when a person with an overinflated sense of confidence realizes they've lost everything. You should know the feeling well.
[ How satisfying it was, that is. The path to becoming an overlord was paved with blood and bodies and endless suffering, and there really was a special kind of satisfaction that came with being able to facilitate and witness it. ]
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That…that was different. Completely different. If he was in command (his rightful place to be, mind you), then no one would be above him. No one could command him, subjugate him, could ridicule him.
Could hurt him
again.Vox spun him around again so he wouldn’t have to stare at how smug those eyes were, how sure they were that he would fail. If this smiling asshole would just believe him-]
Last time I checked, deer were prey animals. In fact, there’s a whole week dedicated to how useless, weak, and stupid deer are; it gets gooood ratings.
[Almost as good as Shark Week.]
I’ve broken a lot of people to get where I am, and you’re just another number. [The highest number. The most important. Vox leaned down to get on his level.] I can’t wait to prove to you how wrong you are.
[The champagne would flow, something to get him good and drunk so he didn’t have to think about the hole left after.]
You’re tied up and at my mercy, the front seat to all my greatness. The rally is tomorrow, and you’ll see. They will all see.
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But he didn't entirely mind hearing that there was an entire week dedicated to deer. There's only man that would go through all the effort of setting that up, and it was the one who was completely and totally obsessed with him. Ever desperate for his attention.
But he watched as Vox averted his gaze, then returned it, and as he moved himself down to Alastor's level. That attitude was better. It was what Alastor wanted to see. It was defiant, determined, the look and voice of a person who would do anything to propel himself to the top.
He thought to press that point more. It would have been nothing if not easy to continue to mock him and remind him that all anyone will be seeing in the end is what a failure he is. The thought was there, but he had to break up the monotony of mockery and discouragement here and there. Vox was one more person who would smile and push through any setback in his way, someone who couldn't be completely broken, so there was no real concern, but it would get boring for both of them.
So instead he says, ]
If you keep leaning in so close, I'm going to start to think that you're interested in something else entirely.
[ He would let Vox fill in the blanks on that one, but his eyes did briefly trail down to his hips, right around where the man's waistband was with no intention of implying something whatsoever. ]
Hey, Al, look. You broke him.
His deeply blushing face and giant eyes.]
Wha-
[He made a raspberry with his lips, blowing the air out quickly before he waved his hand.]
N-No! I’m not- no! Why would you think that?!
[He was protesting too much, too hard, too vehemently, and the cycle made his face darken even more. Fuck, he didn’t want- No. Alastor? Once, maybe. Back then. Not-not now?
Totally not now.
Nooooooo.
Uh uh. ]
You’re clearly projecting.
[There’s that spin that came naturally. Well, normally naturally; this time? Not so much.]
But can I break him harder?
He would be polite enough to pull back directly after. He didn't quite push back, but instead leaned back in the chair and tilted his head up with that ever present toothy grin before he finally said - ]
I wouldn't. You alone are immune to my charms.
[ He uncrossed his legs so he could plant his feet firmly on the ground with his legs spread apart in what was a perfectly normal amount for a man, since he crossed them more as a learned habit, for no other reason than that it allowed him more stability as he leaned back, heels lifting just slightly before he pushed back down. ]
And I have no interest in you.
[ And to whether or not that was true, well... Who knew? It was impossible to tell from that toothy grin. ]
The answer is always "yes".
It didn’t really matter if he never breathed again; he would come back over and over until his body got in line. But for now, the entirety of breathing, of thinking, left him. Electrical sparks danced over the edges of his head and down into the points of the claws as they curled around the desk edge. He could feel his heartbeat slamming against the prison of his ribs.
What was happening?
This had to be a trick, something Alastor was going to laugh at and tease him over. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything other than a reason to keep that stupid smile there. Alastor was mocking him.
Right?]
Damn right I am.
[Which might have been more convincing if his voice hadn’t cracked when he said it. Was it from before or because of the way he was sitting now? It was rare to see him without his legs crossed, and for a second Vox looked between them, where they were open, before back up to Alastor’s eyes.
He had dreams that started suspiciously like this over the years, but this felt too real to be one of those.
Vox started to lean forward, as if he could close the distance and-
And I have no interest in you.
The old hurts tangled up in the bottom of his stomach, another humiliation ritual like so long before. Why? This was crueler than the slaughters over his radiowaves. Fingers tightened on the desk, cracking the wood as his silent wounds seeped inside his chest. That smiling fucking face-]
You say that, but you’re the one that just came onto me!
[What an asshole. What a rude asshole and it wasn’t fair that there was something in Vox aching for his validation, for his acknowledgement, for just one stupid kis-]
What makes you think I have an interest in you? [His shoes scuffed the floor in front of his desk.] Val makes sure that my bed isn’t exactly empty at night.
oh ariana we're really in it now
[ Those last words were a stroke of luck, because Alastor was pushing too far in too certain of a direction. It allowed him to dismiss anything he might have felt, because he was too traditional to share. He was too selfish, he was too insecure, to not want to monopolize a partner's affection.
That was not to say that he resented the other Vees, of course - he had the same respect for them that he did all other Overlords. Rather, while Vox's little show of voyeurism had been nothing but tiring and an exercise in frustration, he did feel a certain amount of resentment for how much more they seemed to be. It was a complicated feeling, one that was on the whole unfamiliar, and one that seemed to be shared between them.
They were jealous of each other.
Alastor blinked lazily as his eyes rose up to meet Vox's once more. He had noted all those little reactions. He had delighted in them. There were certain little things that only he could draw out, and it made his heart race, and there was a chill that ran down his spine when the man leaned forward. It ended too fast, it was humiliating, but it was thrilling too.
He couldn't give, not yet. Not as long as there was that manacle around his neck, choking the life out of him; not because of any limitations pressed upon him, but because he would do nothing and form nothing so long until that chain was gone. He would risk nothing. He would allow for nothing to be gained that might be lost, and he might do the same after breaking it. But while it was there, nothing could be done.
But he did shift a bit. Vox had leaned in faster than expected, and he wasn't quite sure how to salvage it all, save saying what he had, and he settled on trying to shift back to the original subject - ]
You three will rule Heaven as equals. I'm just your little prisoner.
*leans against the poster*
But still, he wasn’t about to get into the specifics of his arrangement with Val, and instead just waved his arms around his waist and pants, before turning them and waving that at Alastor. It was a frantic and obvious motion, an explanation without words.]
Um, I don’t know, maybe whatever that was?
[‘Homewrecker’. It was a perfectly antiquated word that he would expect only from Alastor and maybe one of those royal birds mentioned outside of this city. Alastor had indeed wrecked a home, but it was a hypothetical one decades ago.
And here the Radio Demon was trying to act like nothing just happened, gaslighting him into thinking maybe he read too far into whatever that was. Dammit, why was it always a game, a grift, a trap? Why did he always try to embarrass him? No one else ever got away with it except him. He had killed so many people for suck lesser slights.]
Oh, no. No, no, no. You don’t get to brush this off. [It was his turn to move his leg, planting his foot on the chair between Alastor’s uncrossed thighs. He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as if he could read the ones across from him.]
What the fuck are you playing at? Are you trying to wreck my home or be my prisoner?
does this give him more or less motivation to take over heaven
Maybe it was him playing games, and maybe it was him teasing Vox, but that didn't mean that he wasn't curious.
He brought his eyes back up to meet Vox's. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction. But it only took a few seconds of thought before he responded with a shrug.
Fuck it. He's committed now. ]
Well now, that depends, doesn't it? Which one are you asking for?
[ He was Vox's prisoner either way, but he wasn't going to be the one to kill the mood by pointing that out. ]
Too early to tell. Depends on how bad he fucks it up LOL
Point number one to remember: Vox was in charge. He commanded this whole thing, he had a prisoner, he was going to take over Heaven, it was fine.
Point number two: Alastor had a history of humiliating him, finding ways to embarrass him, get under his skin. Why wouldn’t this be a set up for just that?
Point number three: He had a good thing going with the others. Messing that up could jeopardize the plan, and while he could repair whatever, it would take resources, bandwidth, and time.
Point number four: Had Alastor ever shown any interest before? He…wasn’t sure.
Seconds were ticking by with nothing to fill them. Dammit. If he answered, it gave Alastor too much power to jerk him in either direction. He needed to treat this like any company acquisition meeting: distant, careful, and sharp.]
There’s nothing saying that it can’t be both.
[Negotiations often started high and worked their way down. And besides, it wasn’t like Hell cared about annoying things like ethics.]
I’m starting to think you’re the one who doesn’t know what you want.
He has a chance, but if he fumbles it, he has to take over heaven to unlock the R18+ scene
But that doesn't mean he hadn't been thinking about it. You two should just fuck already. Talk about getting straight to the point.
He watched in silent, patient, as he waited for the other to come to a conclusion. The grin stretched out, and there was a moment in which he wondered if he'd miscalculated, because, well - it's not as though he were incapable of feeling emotion. He could handle it much better, but he was nonetheless as prone to being embarrassed by misreading someone's intention as anyone else. And in this situation in particular, they're stuck with each other. ]
That's not an answer. Though I will say, I'm not doing anything while I'm tied to a chair.
[ Even if Vox could have it be both, this was just awkward. Snapping a person's waistband with one's teeth could easily be sexy, but the struggle to find the right angle and tilt for it dampened the effect. There was far more that he could do with free hands and a bit of mobility. ]
Look, he fumbles SO MUCH.
He told himself he had been happy.
He was supposed to be happy.
He flourished in work, expanded the networks and focused more on sponsorships and R&D than ever before. Some nights were spent wound up in Val both with work, sex, and weirdly domestic, and others were pouring over monitors. He had won. He had won.
And then Alastor had returned and everything was unmoored again, his footing tilted. The obsession threatened to drag him back down, as if he wasn’t already anchored to the depths this entire time. There was no explanation for where he had been, what he was doing, nothing. Just…suddenly there. Smiling. Always smiling.
Now Vox was here, keeping Alastor as a prisoner, having won again, and he should be happy (was happier than the silence of seven years). But instead there was just this conflict because no, no, you cocky, smug, unholier-than-thou asshole, he didn’t have an answer. Dammit. And worse was that he thought Alastor knew that.
He made a show of rolling his eyes as he pushed off the desk, reached out, and sliced through the rope with his fingers. It wasn’t like Alastor would leave or fight him (probably?); the ropes were mostly for show, demoralizing, propaganda shots, and his own satisfaction.
That done, he reclaimed his seat on the edge of the desk, facing Alastor.]
This doesn’t change anything. We still have a deal.
[The easiest deal in all of Hell. What could go wrong?]
He does, but I get it on this one... If I had this man in front of me, I would fumble too.
The ropes were cut, and that was enough to afford him an answer. It wasn't a decisive one, but Vox could always change his mind halfway through. For the moment, Alastor had no issue with being the one to take the lead.
He stood up, taking his time in stretching out to loosen up his stiff muscles and work the kinks out of his back. He placed his hands on the small of his back as he leaned to pop his back. Much better.
Once he was satisfied, Alastor rubbed his wrist. He was ever aware of the shackles that kept him bound to Vox, ones that could manifest at any moment. He was right. Nothing had changed, and nothing would change. Their deal would remain in place until Vox dissolved it, either willingly or by breaking it. The former was never an option, and so he was counting on the latter.
But that would come later. For now, he offered a resigned nod in return before he took a seat on the next next to the other. He was close enough for their shoulders to brush together, but left just enough space for it to keep from being uncomfortable. ]
I haven't forgotten. I didn't mention leaving as one of the options, now did I?
[ He reached over as he spoke, a clawed finger touching the ball of his antenna and lightly drawing it forward before releasing it to let it spring back into place. This was just a way for them to kill time, to entertain themselves. ]
Guilty as charged.
The little boing of his antenna as it was bounced back and forth after it was toyed with. ]
That doesn’t mean it hasn’t crossed your mind.
[Don’t do that. Don’t touch his antenna. In retaliation (and because sometimes he could act like a spiteful child), he reached up and flicked one of Alastor’s small antlers. It was nowhere near as satisfying, no motions or sounds to speak of, but it made him feel better. Slightly.
He settled his hand down on the desk again, gripping it. Nerves were electrifying inside him, anxiety a low roll under his skin, something seventy years old that he swore he had lost. It felt like a trap. It always felt like a trap now with him but this was charged, moreso. Val and Velvette would never let him hear the end of it if they saw Alastor out, and he was questioning his own judgement at the moment.
Where was the catch? What was he missing?]
If you try to kill me, I’m throwing you in the tank.
[Dirty talk was different with different people.]
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He watched the reaction with interest. He had never stopped paying attention to Vox, and with the years he had only taken more pleasure in seeing what reactions he could pull from the man - reactions that were offered up to and meant for him alone, because he didn't need to see how the man acted in private to know that they could never have the same. It only became more obvious as he refined his look, as he settled more into that role of a public figure, found ways to spin every story except those about the Radio Demon.
He placed his hand over Vox's angling himself so that his knees were bumping up against the other. He leaned forward and used his free hand to take the corner of the other's head. He was still deciding what he wanted to do here. It had might have been a hundred years since he'd been with anyone. There wase no reason for such performative gestures in Hell. And that was to say nothing of the man's unique anatomy.
He tilted the other's head more toward him, and held it as place as he rubbed his cheek. His fingers curled lightly around the one he had placed it over. There was no effort to disrupt his grip, but just to apply a measure of pressure. ]
Is that all? I think you could come up with a more... fitting punishment.
[ He leaned forward as he spoke, his voice dropping, until his forehead was tapping against the other's, his ears tilted forward. Vox had his full attention now. He gave the other but a couple seconds to process that thought before leaning in to punctuation it with a kiss - soft and short to stop.
It was all just bluster, anyway. The only real threat was that somebody would barge in on them... It would be easy to spin, but Vox was too focused on image to want to be caught like this to begin with, much less being seduced by his "prisoner." That wasn't Alastor's problem, though, so he wasn't thinking about it at all. ]
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When was “safe” a word to be used in Hell?
There was the smallest bit of tension in his body as he tried to pull back a few inches when his cheek was rubbed. It was a sweet gesture, affectionate, and it caught him completely off-guard. It was weirdly more disturbing than the intimate violence they had spewed at each other not that long ago. Funny how the blood and rage felt more comfortable than this.
Fuck, was this what being vulnerable felt like? It had been a long time, and he didn’t miss the fear that came with it.
When their foreheads met, he didn’t pull back, even as his breath hitched a little. When was the last time they had been this close? On the desk, his hand let go of the ledge and turned up, curling in Alastor’s as if he could regain some control. Control. He needed his control back. He was drowning, floundering, when he should have been a shark in these seas.
H-he could sex, dammit! He literally spent his nights with the Sex King!
Okay. He had this. Vox kissed him back, disappointing at how short it was. He followed after him, trying to grab another one, the free hand reaching over to settle on Alastor’s waist and squeezing it.]
I could throw you out the window. [He wouldn’t; it was too fast, too impersonal, he wouldn’t see the moment of impact. That was reserved for network execs. Instead, he let the electricity in body ramp up just enough to make that fur on those ears stand up.]
Or I could let you become part of the ever-buzzing electrical grid of my empire.
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This man is sobbing on the inside.
Ohh, Vox, honey... Complicated and sad and so very stupid.
It's a wonder that Al puts up with him.
Codependency is a Hell of a drug.
These two fools. Also, sorry about Vox's bitchy temper tantrum.
It's fine, is it really Radiostatic if somebody isn't making an ass of themselves?
You're definitely not wrong!
lbr Alastor is being pissy and petty too, just in the opposite way.
Giving him the silent treatment is weirdly effective.
He needs his wife's attention to live... :( cries we can probably wrap here tho
Just one last one, first!
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