[If he was ever honest with himself, he would have admitted that the idea of Alastor being an “obedient pet” would bore him more than anything. Sicken him, too. After all, respect was the first thing he had ever felt for him, and the only pet he respected was Shock.wav, his sweet baby.
So yes, this was more fitting for them. This was more fitting for what he no-so-secretly wanted.
And to speak of wanting…That question made him stop and blink. What did he want? He had everything. The worlds were his oysters, pried open and waiting for his claws to take the pearls within. This was his. What could Alastor even give him anymore?
He thought of the office, silent and theirs in the tower and the way his body felt against his. He thought of a younger man, aching for his approval.]
Tell me I won. Tell me – and fucking mean it – that you regret not taking me up on that offer, because we could’ve been doing this together. Tell me what the fuck was up with what happened in my office.
[ That was quite the list of demands. Any one of them would have been ridiculous on their own, but when put together, Alastor had to wonder if the man was joking. He wasn't, of course, but it did feel as though he should be.
He accordingly had every right to dismiss the request out of hand for the greed of it all alone, but ultimately decided not to. Like as not, it could work to his favor to offer a bit of give here. But Alastor was nothing without his smile, and so no matter what he did, that would stay locked firmly in place. ]
I'll give you one of those things.
[ He leaned back and watched the other expectantly. It would have to be be between the first and the third, the second not being viable, but he could be fair on these issues when he so chose to be, and he was having one of those rare moments where he was feeling generous.
That was nothing! There were four things, and he was offering one? When Vox here had all the fucking strings?! It made him want to laugh. No, it did make him laugh, an airy bark of something short and vaguely broken.]
Three.
[He was giving up ground here, which didn’t bode well for him in terms of negotiations. It was a foolish mistake not to let Alastor hang on that. He had no plans on being a benevolent god, but here we are.]
[ Just one, but it was one more than he needed to.
He had to consider it for a moment. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it until now, but he didn't fully understand it himself, and that made it more difficult to put into words. Still, he rifled around in his mind until he found an adequate way to put it. ]
That's easy. You asked for it. You were interested, and I was curious, and you weren't getting anything done. What reason was there not to?
[ He rocked back and forth in the chair now, pushing the seat up and down. It might not be the most satisfactory answer, but it should at least be enough to confirm there were no ulterior motives. It was as simple as him decided he wanted to.
Vox was free to prod more. Fair was fair, and if he wouldn't disclose everything, he would keep going until either the man was satisfied or he grew too tired of it. ]
[That wasn’t what he meant; he was just trying to negotiate from four items to three instead of the offered one. But it didn’t matter because that answer was enough to make the rest of fall away, forgotten.
(Not that those other things would have mattered; forced as they were, they wouldn’t be sincere and that, too, would always scratch at the back of his head, unfulfilled.)
Instead, he had this, simple and straightforward and blunt. Interested was a …choice…word, but considering how it went, he didn’t have a lot of room to stand on to argue against it. And no, he hadn’t been getting anything done. His eyes followed the chair moving back and forth, listening to it move in steady shifting, all of it punctuating all of his thoughts and derailing them.]
Oh, like you weren’t interested when you were in my lap? Like I was the only one who wanted it?
[He pushed up out of the throne and stalked over to him, heels echoing in the room. It was repeating again, the moments back in his office, the smokey bar a night so long ago. One sided. His hand grabbed the back of the chair and slammed it down so it would stop rocking.]
What, I- it was an experiment to you? Or you were just bored?
[ It wasn't, but Alastor ever took things as he would. It was likely for the best. They both knew that the alternative was pointless bickering in less than a minute, and once that happened Alastor would take it back. He'd take the offer back entirely, and mock Vox. Neither would be satisfied. So, he made the decision for them just like this.
He showed little reaction as Vox drew near. It wasn't until the chair was forced down that his eyes widened, jerking as his movements were brought to a sudden halt. His shoulders hunched, he averted his gaze, and for a moment he had the look of a sullen child, and one who felt they were being scolded without good reason. It was only for a moment, though, before he looked up. ]
Both.
[ Maybe that wasn't a satisfying answer, but it was good enough for Alastor. Curiosity and boredom were enough to do anything. It was what made people listen to radio, watch TV; it was what made them imagine, scribble down ideas and stories, find acts and desire and want on them. It was what made people seek each other out, to prod at each other in hopes of gaining something from them. And it was, too, what made people stand out so much.
Vox had never bored him.
He would relent just a tad. ]
Since you'd brought it up, I thought we could try something different than our usual back-and-forth and finding new ways to insult one another... [ He shrugged, ] I couldn't see any harm in it.
[ His eyes flicked to the side, because he had misjudged that one. ]
[It wasn’t. It wasn’t satisfying, but Alastor rarely gave Vox anything that was. Wasn’t that part of the issue?
Both.
Vox’s eyes narrowed before he cut the ropes with his claws; tying Alastor wasn’t necessary, not now, not really. Even the humiliation of it was pointless when Vox had so clearly won. If this newly appointed god was going to kill him, well, it was time to give him a fighting chance. That was the least he could do.]
Something…different.
[Let’s have scotch instead of whiskey. Let’s try pipes instead of cigarettes. Cocaine instead of opium. Make out instead of punching one another. There was no harm in it? He sure felt the harm after it, at least on his end. Alastor probably felt none because who- ha, who knew if he felt anything at all? Right? Ha!
Totally normal here.
Vox walked away to sit on the steps while looking at him.]
Right. What would be the harm? It didn’t mean anything. [Right?] It will never mean anything.
[ Despite being the one pushing for it, Alastor hadn't expected to be freed. After being kept restrained for so long, it was nothing short of a relief to have movement again. He rose up from the chair, and his eyes alternated between looking down and to Vox as he dusted himself off and smoothed his jacket out.
It didn't mean anything, huh...?
In truth, the last thing he wanted to do was sit down again, but he padded over to do that just the same. He sat next to Vox on the steps, and reached up to pinch the side of his screen, wiggling it a little. ]
Self-pity doesn't suit you.
[ He took Vox's hand, lifting it up and rubbing his wrist with his thumb as he considered. ]
But, you know how I am. I'm selfish, so I would never share with anyone. I won't let anyone treat me as though I'm beneath them either, much less like embarrassing secret to be hidden away. And you know, I really do think that there's a proper way to go about these things.
[ Alastor could go on, but he'll stop there. He had been in Hell for a century, but he still maintained so many of those traditional views that one would expect of a man from the 1930s. If it's not a direct answer, it should at least give some semblance of an idea as to what he was so upset about to begin with. ]
[Vox wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t that.
If the man had a nose, he would’ve been wrinkling it as his head was lightly shook. What the- One hand reached up to slap the hand away, but that’s the one that was taken. Held.
Oh.]
It’s not-I’m not self-pitying! Why would I? I’ve got it all.
[But he didn’t pull his hand away, he didn’t look at him for a long second, instead staring at their mutual shoes. All of this had derailed him from where he thought it was going: no murder sentence, no slaughter, not even an apology or an acknowledgement of winning. Release hadn’t even started a fight. It was quiet and weirdly intimate, something so unbalanced from the theatrics of what Vox had done to get here.
His fingers curled in Alastor’s, the tips of his claws scratching lightly over the other demon’s skin. No sharing. No hiding. Proper ways.]
I tried a proper way. You didn’t want it.
[That’s what he had been asking for so long ago. That’s the partnership he wanted. This, too, of course! Multiple uses for partners. Just-]
You aren’t an embarrassing secret. Ancient and dusty, but not embarrassing. Otherwis-
[He stopped for a second, before narrowing his eyes.]
[ He shouldn't have said anything. This is (in his mind) why he doesn't say anything. It never ends well.
As far as Alator was concerned, he didn't try a proper way. He wasn't thinking of that day seventy years ago, though. He wasn't even thinking of a partnership offer at all. He's thinking about sex. He was thinking about courting disguised as a request for sex. Alastor still wasn't sure if he believes their previous foray to have been that, but there was no going back now that he'd said something.
They should have kept on the subject of Vox killing him. ]
You asked what happened, and now I've told you. And I did not appreciate you bringing up your partner, [ Or whatever label they're using today, ] And I do not want to use the same chair as him.
[ Rather, not in that specific context and with the implications that had been given. He only grew huffier as he went on, displeased with this entire affair. ]
And it was a bad idea.
[ Because it wasn't something that Vox should be doing. It wasn't something that he wanted others knowing about for shame rather than privacy. That's to say nothing of the insult he received. Alastor had been in Hell far too long to hold a puritan view, but he still had a certain set of standards that need to be adhered to. ]
[Vox blinked. There was a staring silence as Alastor went on, as he blatantly proved just what he had said a moment ago. Well…]
You are jealous of Val.
[That was not the idea to take away from this, but he couldn’t help but smile with a significant amount of smugness. Alastor was jealous. Ha. It felt good, this balm on a wound that never truly stopped bleeding. After all, there had been a reason he had fucked Val in front of him, to prove that he could have someone, to prove that he didn’t need Alastor anymore.
Instead, it was the talk of a chair that got him.]
Uh, yeah. Of course it was a terrible idea.
[Awful. It had ended in anger and hurt feelings and a lonely night at the television consoles staring at him handcuffed to that chair. It had created sharpened corners that were more razors than butterknives. They had solved nothing, hadn’t addressed secrets and partners and ruling Heaven. It would almost definitely happen all over again, same order, same worn path.
[ As far as he was concerned it was perfectly normal to be turned off by somebody talking about their other sexual exploits, especially after having been subjected to them once already. But if he didn't see it as such, Vox was right all the same. Alastor was selfish, stubborn, possessive, and demanding, a person who was difficult in every way.
But it also would have bothered him regardless of who had been using it before. Either way, Vox was taking far too much pleasure in the idea. ]
... Here?
[ This seemed like a worse option than an office. It took a moment for him to realize that wasn't the biggest issue, and he shook his head upon doing so. ]
You just said it was a terrible idea, and you were just talking about killing me. Am I to sleep with my executor now?
[ It had done nothing to discourage the idea, as such things were always a thrill rather than a threat for them, but it seemed likely to end just as poorly as the first attempt. Maybe worse, because he had truly believed that their positions were temporary before. Now, though... He wasn't so sure.
And the last thing they needed was a repeat of that miserable night. ]
[His free hand reached up and flicked on of those ears. If anything, there was less smugness now, just more teasing. A little awe. Jealous. Huh. He had always hoped, but never thought-
Nevermind, it was time to discuss logistics. There was no refusal in there, no Shut that forever flapping mouth, Vox. This was like before, but better, something with more understanding…as much as there could ever be between the two of them. Here? Well…]
It’s Heaven, so I highly doubt that throne’s ever seen action before. And if it did, it was only missionary and probably with the lights off.
[Why not here? ]
I’ve got no meetings for the next couple of hours, but sure, if you want we can go somewhere else. My room isn’t too far.
[Hopefully Val was in his own right now, otherwise it would get awkward fast. He brought Alastor’s hand to his mouth, lightly running his tongue over those dark knuckles.]
I’ve been telling you I was going to kill you since you surrendered. It didn’t stop you before; why would it now? Are you scared of me?
[ It struck him as a bit wrong to do anything here. Alastor had never been a devout follower. He had fallen into deism early on in life, having come to the conclusion that God had no love for His creations early on, and had so chosen to believe in certain concepts for hope of life after death. But he had gone to church on Sundays, and even now the idea of defiling it felt so blasphemous and indecent that he might be smote on the spot.
His ear twitched several times once flicked, and the gesture earned Vox a brief glare. But it was short lived, though, as his ears shot up and his eyes widened in response to Vox's tongue running against his knuckles. There was a warmth to it, but also a static that ran through and sent a shiver down his spine and caused his grip to grow tighter.
Vox was teasing him now, of course - he was giving him a taste of what he could do, acting in such a way that promised more, all while taunting him. It really was unfair of him to leave Alastor alone for weeks, only to bait him like this. It was more unfair that it was working. ]
Of you? Don't be ridiculous.
[ He was just aware of the consequences now. They'd agreed that it was a mistake before.
But then, what was their relationship if not making the same mistakes over and over again? It wasn't enough to stop Alastor from shaking his head. He leaned in closer. ]
... We can stay here.
[ It still felt a bit profanatory, but perhaps that was what made it fitting for a pair of Sinners. Besides, this couldn't quite be called the Kingdom of God anymore, if it ever was. It was one angels made so they might look down on humanity. It was a place that should belong to humans. If anything, it was riskier to go to a bedroom - given Vox's present circumstances, that could lead to an awkward situation. ]
But they moved in circular patterns, again and again, making the same mistakes. If Vox was smarter, he would have ended this now, stopped the want and moved on. They weren’t compatible, not for something healthy and effectively.
But they were Sinners. They were murderers. They were overlords in Hell/Heaven. They were not made for “healthy”.]
You should be. I am God, after all.
[That wasn’t exactly how it worked, but it was close enough.
They shouldn’t do this. They shouldn’t. He knew it would all fall apart again, would break his head, would hurt and hurt and hurt when the next battle came tearing through. But Alastor was always the one he would either slaughter or crawl back to every single time because nothing felt as close to being alive as he when he was with him. Nothing felt as intrinsically tied to his stupid soul as he did, born from the same building blocks as he was. He hated him, sure, but only because he …well…
He leaned in and kissed him. They were going to break it in. He was willing to try this mistake one more time, even if it flayed him over because he was an idiot. Maybe this time they could get farther than their jackets being off before it all fell apart.
[ Alastor should be, and on some level, he was. Alastor was aware of the predicament that he's in. He stood teetering on a ledge, and a single push would be enough to send him crashing down. But he knew how to hide it well, and it was second nature to do so while pushing all those other emotions to the front.
They kissed, and Alastor raised one hand to cup Vox's cheek. He pulled back by just a few inches. Alastor brushed his thumb against the man's screen. ]
Too bad it's still just you.
[ It wasn't anything as dramatic as care. They'd known each other for too long, half of Alastor's life, and both of them had remained the same. Vox hadn't changed at all, not in any way that really matters.
He didn't wait for the other to respond, he didn't want him to, because it would only ruin atmosphere, and so he brought their lips back together - slow, soft, savoring. Maybe this time they could do better than sharp cuts and bitter sentiments.
[For a second, Vox opened his mouth, always with a word to say, always with something to add or spin or twist.
But he didn’t. Words didn’t come, something quiet and warm sitting in his chest instead. He blinked once, twice, both red eyes staring at him in a nakedness he didn’t show anyone, while his face flushed. There was a truth to it, sure, but it meant that all of this was still the same. Not for nothing – he had Hell and Heaven now – but it was Vox. Not God. Just Vox.
Maybe even just Vincent for these rare moments, alone, right now.
He closed his eyes as he kissed him back, fighting the urge to take it faster, sharper like he did with Val. Hell, he didn’t even try to take charge, letting Alastor carry the reins for now, letting him set the pace. Maybe if he did, Vox wouldn’t fuck it up this time.
Maybe.
One of his hands settled on Alastor’s waist for a moment before trailing his claws up his coat, then back down again to settle on his hip. Would they even make it to the throne? Fuck if he knew or exactly cared in the moment. All of these theatrics and the road to Heaven had been for himself, sure. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to fulfill that feeling he got when he was in charge of the cult, all those eyes on him, looking at him, seeing him.
But none of those eyes ever felt half as good as Alastor’s.]
[ Alastor moved at his own unhurried pace, because he was still uncertain about it all. He was hardly a blushing virgin, but he hadn't been with anyone since he was still alive. In Hell, there was no need to maintain image by abiding by putting on a performance and adhering to strict social standards and unspoken rules; the only thing that mattered was power, and he had enough to live freely.
It all felt new again. It felt different, somehow more intimate. It wasn't that he had no affection for the women he was with, but there was always a different sort of distance. The gap between Alastor, who lived a double life, and other humans was vast. Here, in Hell, with video that should have complimented video, that gap seemed to narrow.
That sensation was there even now, but it was different. It felt as though his chest was constricting, like his chest cavity would collapse in on itself, choking the breath out of him and tearing through his heart. It was a warmth that drew him closer, and it was a pain that led him to shove Vox away, and perhaps it could be said that they'd found some comfortable distance in their constant fights and with those protective layers of strife and mockery. They could never be close, but they would never be alone either. It was an ugly, vile relationship, but a safe one, and one that they could keep alive and well for all eternity.
But there was a time when he'd thought they understood each other, and those complicated feelings had remained. It was something that he hadn't experienced before meeting him, and he hasn't since.
He was in no hurry to move, because it didn't really matter; angels didn't know how to make comfortable seats anyhow. It was all gaudy gold and other archaic materials. Rather, he eased myself closer and shifted his knees to face him better. He let his hand slide along the edge of Vox's screen, down his neck before coming to rest on his shoulder. The opposite hand moved up next, fingertips brushing against his waistband before his fingers slid up his torso before gripping his other shoulder. He massaged Vox's shoulders briefly before slipping his thumbs under the edges of his blazer and sliding his hands along in an effort to ease it down and off of him.
He was picking up where they left off. Surely they could get further this time. ]
[That depended on how long it took Vox to open his mouth.
Vox could understand the double life, the need to hide certain aspects of one’s self from a hungry public. His power came from his image, the same power he could project from the clothes he wore to his presence of self; it had always been that way, living and dead. One didn’t gain a vast following with cracks.
The few supposedly “illicit” affairs he had were never spoken of, kept in far away motels, fake names, paid in cash and out of town. When it became impossible to do so as his name got bigger, brighter in those shimmering lights, he buried it all as much as he could. And when he woke here, when he finally tried and wasn’t arrested but instead laughed at-
No more letting anyone, anyone see anything other than what he wanted them to see. He controlled it. He controlled all of it.
Except that someone wouldn’t let it be that easy, would they? Poking him, prodding him, making him unravel every. Single. Time. Every wall didn’t matter, every bloody electronic strike didn’t matter, every shadowy throw at a wall didn’t fucking mean a thing. They were two moons trapped in the same orbit, forever moving but never getting closer, never able to leave.
His breath caught in his chest as felt how slow Alastor was moving, the way he seemed – the way that Vox could believe in that moment that it really, really wasn’t a trick. He was used to the quick and dirty of other people (not naming names), but this was the opposite, a painstaking journey that he didn’t mind taking the scenic route on. After all, he said he had a couple of hours before anyone (hopefully) would come looking for him. He shrugged his shoulders to help rid himself of the jacket, reluctantly pulling his arms free from Alastor so it could be gone completely. One of his cables reached over to snag it and put it back on the throne so it wouldn’t get wrinkled.
Image.
His own claws reached up, plucking at the red fabric of his coat, before tapping the buttons through the holes. They had done this before, hadn’t gotten much farther than that when it went to shit, but maybe this time, he wondered as he trailed his hands under it, running up his sides towards his chest, it would be better. Maybe they could not want to kill each other for a little longer.]
Shit.
[It was a quiet, murmured thing against his mouth before he pulled away just a hair. Don’t mind him as he puts his phone on Do Not Disturb.]
[ As with before, Alastor easily acquiesced to him, shrugging his jacket off with ease and letting it slide down his arms. It was such a small thing, but it was rare for him to be seen without it. He felt too vulnerable when he took it off, too exposed when any part of his body was seen, but Vox was quite familiar with this much. He'd taken off his jacket before, he'd played piano for him, he'd let him into his home and treated him as a familiar person.
He shakes his jacket off, tugging his hands free of it even as the other started to pull away. They hadn't gotten much further than this, and when he reached his hands up to toy with the other's bowtie, it was a half-hearted gesture. If people were calling him now, then it would only be so long before they were banging on the door - a couple hours before meetings or not.
Alastor could be a little kinder about it this time, at least. ]
... If you're busy, we can try again later, when it's really just the two of us.
[ It was still a little irritating, but he'd be far more irritated if someone came banging on the door. He's willing to accept that option, but Alastor couldn't exactly escape here, and he was that sort of private person who really would throw throw a tantrum and find it to be unforgivable if they were interrupted at a vulnerable moment. And so his ears pinned back again, demanding reassurance one way or another.
Vox could at least reserve his own bedrooom at night, or so one would hope. ]
I don't mind waiting.
[ Well, maybe a little, but... Well, if they had all night, then he could excuse it. Because Vox would make sure that they'd have all night. He'd better make sure they'd have all night, in fact, because Alastor would be demanding that if this went any further. ]
All of this was so fragile that waiting seemed to be asking for trouble, like it would break whatever delicate balance they had. It was far more than enough time for Alastor to rethink it, shut it down, and get over the entire thing. Or, worse: find a way to use it against him.
But if he was coming back to do it again after the disaster that was the last time, then maybe there was hope.
Besides, the security of his own room, locked doors, being left alone all night? That was hard to argue with. Especially when he had a feeling that being interrupted would result in someone losing limbs and a whole lot of blood that he didn’t want to clean up.]
Reminder: ruler of two realms. When am I not busy?
[It was being a CEO times a million, but everyone knew to let him sleep, at least. It didn’t do well (for other people) when he didn’t. His hand slid up, the sharp point of his thumb running over one of Alastor’s cheeks, the end sparking ever-so-slightly. If it wouldn’t have made it suspicious, he would’ve forwarded his calls to Velvette.]
Fine. [He looked at throne with a sigh; there would be another time to defile it properly, he supposed.] My room, tonight at eleven. The door locks from the inside and no one has a key but me. Cameras off.
[There was a pause for a moment before he reached down to help put Alastor’s coat back on him, a noticeable contrast from last time.]
If you try to kill me in my sleep, though, I will smite you.
[ His ears went flat back at the question of when Vox wasn't busy, because Alastor was quite needy. That didn't matter in the least bit, because he expected to be more important than every realm. Vox could either make time, or he could not, but the Radio Demon wouldn't accept being on call and only on call until something more important came up. That was far more humiliating than being a prisoner.
His displeased expression lasted past that hand on his cheek, the small shudder that the spark sent through him - a pleasant spark that made him want to nuzzle against the hand that held his face. He placed a hand over the one on his cheek and did just that, rubbing his cheek against the others palm before removing it so he could allow the other to help him put his coat back on.
HBe was still displeased as he buttoned it back up, but at length that sunny smile got a chuckle and his eyes grew a little wider and his grin widened into something more pleasant. ]
... Fine. But if you take your eyes off me for even a second, I'll kill you.
[ Alastor wouldn't. He couldn't. But he could still have a fit if displeased, and what good was that when they wanted the same thing? Because Alastor really...
For Vox alone, he there was...
xxxx... ]
But if you're a good boy, we can sleep together tonight. ♪
[ And that was indeed a promise of it being all night... The aftercare (if Vox was willing to trade experiments with a couple bites with sharp teeth for electric shocks) and cuddling up after and all. That was a fair deal, wasn't it? ]
[Balancing Whatever This Was and being a god was going to take work, a lot of mistakes, and time, but he would figure it out eventually. Hopefully? But that was jumping all the guns considering he didn’t even think This was a This at all. He didn’t know what it was.
But he did know that Alastor’s face felt so good against his palm that he started to want it to be a This. ]
Oh, so you do want the cameras on.
[The laugh was low as he leaned in close to kiss him, a quick thing, something with a brief swipe of his tongue. What the fuck was he doing? How could Vox forgive him after everything? He needed to get his head back on straight, think all this through. This was ridiculous, and-
Suddenly, the screen turned for snow for a second, bright and white, before his extremely shocked face appeared back on it. Was it patterned with the absolute brightest blush possible? Yes. Did the offer of “being a good boy” and “sleeping together tonight” make his fingers stumble as they tried to fit buttons through the holes? Absolutely. He wasn’t a dog, and he certainly wasn’t a good boy, but the way it was said from him did something to him.
He looked at his wrist to see what time it was. Not late enough.
Dammit.]
“Good boys” don’t take over Heaven. [He smoothed his hands down the front of the other demon’s coat, straightening it.] What are you going to do while I’m working? You’re still a prisoner and we do have an image to uphold.
[ The mention of cameras on earned a snarl, but it was only a token reaction before he returned the kiss. Vox knew the answer already, and Alastor knew that he would respect it. They were both old fashioned in that way, where private affairs were private.
Vox wasn't a dog, and in truth the expression wasn't meant to treat him as on so much as it was a gesture of teasing affection, but the reaction made him brighten. There was a glow to that toothy grin, something amused and delighted that hadn't been there in so many years, because he really hadn't expected it. ]
Well, well... [ His breath caught as the other smoothed his jacket out, sucking in a breath and causing his chest to jut out before he exhaled. He used his index finger to tilt Vox's screen up, ] God can have mercy, hmm...? As long as I don't leave here...?
[ He could be a benevolent God who let his prisoner wander within the confines of his wall, surely? Even if they were a little less unpleasant, Alastor would always feel those constraints, that crushing tightness. Nothing would fix his need for freedom.
But this wasn't the same as Hell. And Alastor does fix him with a look that asks if he really means to hide this forever. ]
And I should hope that a god should at least be able to say who he's courting, prisoner or otherwise...
[ Because Vox isn't embarrassed by that, right...? He doesn't see it as harming his image anymore, not when Alastor is willing to accept it despite being the famed solitary Radio Demon, right...? ]
It’s optics, Al. [His mouth was a tight line, conflicted in the moment. He knew the answer Alastor wanted, of course, but he also knew how it would look to the angels he just took over, how it looked to the other Sinners out there. Strength was important during a takeover, in the fresh weeks after a rebellion.] If I seem easy on you, then other people will think I’m weak. That’s when you get assassination attempts, fights, blowback. Everything is delicate right now.
[This probably wasn’t going to go well, and he could feel the weight of it in the air. His hand reached up to cup the side of Alastor’s neck, his sharp thumb running over his jawline like it was a razorblade. The next words came through his speakers, the barest of fuzz tickling at syllables.]
You understand, don’t you?
[Please don’t cut off his hand.]
I’m not saying tie you to a chair again – unless you want me to? - but maybe just wait in here today.
[He wasn’t a secret! He just- this was- there was the image! And appearances! And staying strong in these new, unprecedented times! Alastor would understand. Right?
Right?
Although the one who wasn’t exactly understanding was Vox because courting? Courting was actually a Thing. It was effort and the start of something serious and romantic and he wasn’t- that was- Shit, what was he going to tell Val? Did Alastor understand the level of rage this was going to start? And was it-were they-
Were they actually dating and he didn’t know it? They hadn’t even managed to get beyond kissing without almost murdering one another.
Now that he thought on it, that seemed to be like most of his relationships.]
I – We should probably wait until after tomorrow morning to figure out all that. Courting is a big deal and we might be dead by then.
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waggles eyebrows
So yes, this was more fitting for them. This was more fitting for what he no-so-secretly wanted.
And to speak of wanting…That question made him stop and blink. What did he want? He had everything. The worlds were his oysters, pried open and waiting for his claws to take the pearls within. This was his. What could Alastor even give him anymore?
He thought of the office, silent and theirs in the tower and the way his body felt against his. He thought of a younger man, aching for his approval.]Tell me I won. Tell me – and fucking mean it – that you regret not taking me up on that offer, because we could’ve been doing this together. Tell me what the fuck was up with what happened in my office.
[Answers. Fucking answers.]
And do it without a smile.
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He accordingly had every right to dismiss the request out of hand for the greed of it all alone, but ultimately decided not to. Like as not, it could work to his favor to offer a bit of give here. But Alastor was nothing without his smile, and so no matter what he did, that would stay locked firmly in place. ]
I'll give you one of those things.
[ He leaned back and watched the other expectantly. It would have to be be between the first and the third, the second not being viable, but he could be fair on these issues when he so chose to be, and he was having one of those rare moments where he was feeling generous.
Take it or leave it. ]
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One?
That was nothing! There were four things, and he was offering one? When Vox here had all the fucking strings?! It made him want to laugh. No, it did make him laugh, an airy bark of something short and vaguely broken.]
Three.
[He was giving up ground here, which didn’t bode well for him in terms of negotiations. It was a foolish mistake not to let Alastor hang on that. He had no plans on being a benevolent god, but here we are.]
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He had to consider it for a moment. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it until now, but he didn't fully understand it himself, and that made it more difficult to put into words. Still, he rifled around in his mind until he found an adequate way to put it. ]
That's easy. You asked for it. You were interested, and I was curious, and you weren't getting anything done. What reason was there not to?
[ He rocked back and forth in the chair now, pushing the seat up and down. It might not be the most satisfactory answer, but it should at least be enough to confirm there were no ulterior motives. It was as simple as him decided he wanted to.
Vox was free to prod more. Fair was fair, and if he wouldn't disclose everything, he would keep going until either the man was satisfied or he grew too tired of it. ]
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(Not that those other things would have mattered; forced as they were, they wouldn’t be sincere and that, too, would always scratch at the back of his head, unfulfilled.)
Instead, he had this, simple and straightforward and blunt. Interested was a …choice…word, but considering how it went, he didn’t have a lot of room to stand on to argue against it. And no, he hadn’t been getting anything done. His eyes followed the chair moving back and forth, listening to it move in steady shifting, all of it punctuating all of his thoughts and derailing them.]
Oh, like you weren’t interested when you were in my lap? Like I was the only one who wanted it?
[He pushed up out of the throne and stalked over to him, heels echoing in the room. It was repeating again, the moments back in his office, the smokey bar a night so long ago. One sided. His hand grabbed the back of the chair and slammed it down so it would stop rocking.]
What, I- it was an experiment to you? Or you were just bored?
[That latter one, that he actually believed.]
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He showed little reaction as Vox drew near. It wasn't until the chair was forced down that his eyes widened, jerking as his movements were brought to a sudden halt. His shoulders hunched, he averted his gaze, and for a moment he had the look of a sullen child, and one who felt they were being scolded without good reason. It was only for a moment, though, before he looked up. ]
Both.
[ Maybe that wasn't a satisfying answer, but it was good enough for Alastor. Curiosity and boredom were enough to do anything. It was what made people listen to radio, watch TV; it was what made them imagine, scribble down ideas and stories, find acts and desire and want on them. It was what made people seek each other out, to prod at each other in hopes of gaining something from them. And it was, too, what made people stand out so much.
Vox had never bored him.
He would relent just a tad. ]
Since you'd brought it up, I thought we could try something different than our usual back-and-forth and finding new ways to insult one another... [ He shrugged, ] I couldn't see any harm in it.
[ His eyes flicked to the side, because he had misjudged that one. ]
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Both.
Vox’s eyes narrowed before he cut the ropes with his claws; tying Alastor wasn’t necessary, not now, not really. Even the humiliation of it was pointless when Vox had so clearly won. If this newly appointed god was going to kill him, well, it was time to give him a fighting chance. That was the least he could do.]
Something…different.
[Let’s have scotch instead of whiskey. Let’s try pipes instead of cigarettes. Cocaine instead of opium. Make out instead of punching one another. There was no harm in it? He sure felt the harm after it, at least on his end. Alastor probably felt none because who- ha, who knew if he felt anything at all? Right? Ha!
Totally normal here.
Vox walked away to sit on the steps while looking at him.]
Right. What would be the harm? It didn’t mean anything. [Right?] It will never mean anything.
[As if it would ever happen again.]
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It didn't mean anything, huh...?
In truth, the last thing he wanted to do was sit down again, but he padded over to do that just the same. He sat next to Vox on the steps, and reached up to pinch the side of his screen, wiggling it a little. ]
Self-pity doesn't suit you.
[ He took Vox's hand, lifting it up and rubbing his wrist with his thumb as he considered. ]
But, you know how I am. I'm selfish, so I would never share with anyone. I won't let anyone treat me as though I'm beneath them either, much less like embarrassing secret to be hidden away. And you know, I really do think that there's a proper way to go about these things.
[ Alastor could go on, but he'll stop there. He had been in Hell for a century, but he still maintained so many of those traditional views that one would expect of a man from the 1930s. If it's not a direct answer, it should at least give some semblance of an idea as to what he was so upset about to begin with. ]
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If the man had a nose, he would’ve been wrinkling it as his head was lightly shook. What the- One hand reached up to slap the hand away, but that’s the one that was taken. Held.
Oh.]
It’s not-I’m not self-pitying! Why would I? I’ve got it all.
[But he didn’t pull his hand away, he didn’t look at him for a long second, instead staring at their mutual shoes. All of this had derailed him from where he thought it was going: no murder sentence, no slaughter, not even an apology or an acknowledgement of winning. Release hadn’t even started a fight. It was quiet and weirdly intimate, something so unbalanced from the theatrics of what Vox had done to get here.
His fingers curled in Alastor’s, the tips of his claws scratching lightly over the other demon’s skin. No sharing. No hiding. Proper ways.]
I tried a proper way. You didn’t want it.
[That’s what he had been asking for so long ago. That’s the partnership he wanted. This, too, of course! Multiple uses for partners. Just-]
You aren’t an embarrassing secret. Ancient and dusty, but not embarrassing. Otherwis-
[He stopped for a second, before narrowing his eyes.]
Is this a trick? Are you fucking with me?
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As far as Alator was concerned, he didn't try a proper way. He wasn't thinking of that day seventy years ago, though. He wasn't even thinking of a partnership offer at all. He's thinking about sex. He was thinking about courting disguised as a request for sex. Alastor still wasn't sure if he believes their previous foray to have been that, but there was no going back now that he'd said something.
They should have kept on the subject of Vox killing him. ]
You asked what happened, and now I've told you. And I did not appreciate you bringing up your partner, [ Or whatever label they're using today, ] And I do not want to use the same chair as him.
[ Rather, not in that specific context and with the implications that had been given. He only grew huffier as he went on, displeased with this entire affair. ]
And it was a bad idea.
[ Because it wasn't something that Vox should be doing. It wasn't something that he wanted others knowing about for shame rather than privacy. That's to say nothing of the insult he received. Alastor had been in Hell far too long to hold a puritan view, but he still had a certain set of standards that need to be adhered to. ]
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You are jealous of Val.
[That was not the idea to take away from this, but he couldn’t help but smile with a significant amount of smugness. Alastor was jealous. Ha. It felt good, this balm on a wound that never truly stopped bleeding. After all, there had been a reason he had fucked Val in front of him, to prove that he could have someone, to prove that he didn’t need Alastor anymore.
Instead, it was the talk of a chair that got him.]
Uh, yeah. Of course it was a terrible idea.
[Awful. It had ended in anger and hurt feelings and a lonely night at the television consoles staring at him handcuffed to that chair. It had created sharpened corners that were more razors than butterknives. They had solved nothing, hadn’t addressed secrets and partners and ruling Heaven. It would almost definitely happen all over again, same order, same worn path.
They weren’t fixed at all.
Vox grinned, turning towards him.]
Want to do it again?
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[ As far as he was concerned it was perfectly normal to be turned off by somebody talking about their other sexual exploits, especially after having been subjected to them once already. But if he didn't see it as such, Vox was right all the same. Alastor was selfish, stubborn, possessive, and demanding, a person who was difficult in every way.
But it also would have bothered him regardless of who had been using it before. Either way, Vox was taking far too much pleasure in the idea. ]
... Here?
[ This seemed like a worse option than an office. It took a moment for him to realize that wasn't the biggest issue, and he shook his head upon doing so. ]
You just said it was a terrible idea, and you were just talking about killing me. Am I to sleep with my executor now?
[ It had done nothing to discourage the idea, as such things were always a thrill rather than a threat for them, but it seemed likely to end just as poorly as the first attempt. Maybe worse, because he had truly believed that their positions were temporary before. Now, though... He wasn't so sure.
And the last thing they needed was a repeat of that miserable night. ]
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[His free hand reached up and flicked on of those ears. If anything, there was less smugness now, just more teasing. A little awe. Jealous. Huh. He had always hoped, but never thought-
Nevermind, it was time to discuss logistics. There was no refusal in there, no Shut that forever flapping mouth, Vox. This was like before, but better, something with more understanding…as much as there could ever be between the two of them. Here? Well…]
It’s Heaven, so I highly doubt that throne’s ever seen action before. And if it did, it was only missionary and probably with the lights off.
[Why not here? ]
I’ve got no meetings for the next couple of hours, but sure, if you want we can go somewhere else. My room isn’t too far.
[Hopefully Val was in his own right now, otherwise it would get awkward fast. He brought Alastor’s hand to his mouth, lightly running his tongue over those dark knuckles.]
I’ve been telling you I was going to kill you since you surrendered. It didn’t stop you before; why would it now? Are you scared of me?
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His ear twitched several times once flicked, and the gesture earned Vox a brief glare. But it was short lived, though, as his ears shot up and his eyes widened in response to Vox's tongue running against his knuckles. There was a warmth to it, but also a static that ran through and sent a shiver down his spine and caused his grip to grow tighter.
Vox was teasing him now, of course - he was giving him a taste of what he could do, acting in such a way that promised more, all while taunting him. It really was unfair of him to leave Alastor alone for weeks, only to bait him like this. It was more unfair that it was working. ]
Of you? Don't be ridiculous.
[ He was just aware of the consequences now. They'd agreed that it was a mistake before.
But then, what was their relationship if not making the same mistakes over and over again? It wasn't enough to stop Alastor from shaking his head. He leaned in closer. ]
... We can stay here.
[ It still felt a bit profanatory, but perhaps that was what made it fitting for a pair of Sinners. Besides, this couldn't quite be called the Kingdom of God anymore, if it ever was. It was one angels made so they might look down on humanity. It was a place that should belong to humans. If anything, it was riskier to go to a bedroom - given Vox's present circumstances, that could lead to an awkward situation. ]
We can... Break it in.
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But they moved in circular patterns, again and again, making the same mistakes. If Vox was smarter, he would have ended this now, stopped the want and moved on. They weren’t compatible, not for something healthy and effectively.
But they were Sinners. They were murderers. They were overlords in Hell/Heaven. They were not made for “healthy”.]
You should be. I am God, after all.
[That wasn’t exactly how it worked, but it was close enough.
They shouldn’t do this. They shouldn’t. He knew it would all fall apart again, would break his head, would hurt and hurt and hurt when the next battle came tearing through. But Alastor was always the one he would either slaughter or crawl back to every single time because nothing felt as close to being alive as he when he was with him. Nothing felt as intrinsically tied to his stupid soul as he did, born from the same building blocks as he was. He hated him, sure, but only because he …well…
He leaned in and kissed him. They were going to break it in. He was willing to try this mistake one more time, even if it flayed him over because he was an idiot. Maybe this time they could get farther than their jackets being off before it all fell apart.
Maybe.]
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They kissed, and Alastor raised one hand to cup Vox's cheek. He pulled back by just a few inches. Alastor brushed his thumb against the man's screen. ]
Too bad it's still just you.
[ It wasn't anything as dramatic as care. They'd known each other for too long, half of Alastor's life, and both of them had remained the same. Vox hadn't changed at all, not in any way that really matters.
He didn't wait for the other to respond, he didn't want him to, because it would only ruin atmosphere, and so he brought their lips back together - slow, soft, savoring. Maybe this time they could do better than sharp cuts and bitter sentiments.
They could try. ]
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But he didn’t. Words didn’t come, something quiet and warm sitting in his chest instead. He blinked once, twice, both red eyes staring at him in a nakedness he didn’t show anyone, while his face flushed. There was a truth to it, sure, but it meant that all of this was still the same. Not for nothing – he had Hell and Heaven now – but it was Vox. Not God. Just Vox.
Maybe even just Vincent for these rare moments, alone, right now.
He closed his eyes as he kissed him back, fighting the urge to take it faster, sharper like he did with Val. Hell, he didn’t even try to take charge, letting Alastor carry the reins for now, letting him set the pace. Maybe if he did, Vox wouldn’t fuck it up this time.
Maybe.
One of his hands settled on Alastor’s waist for a moment before trailing his claws up his coat, then back down again to settle on his hip. Would they even make it to the throne? Fuck if he knew or exactly cared in the moment. All of these theatrics and the road to Heaven had been for himself, sure. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to fulfill that feeling he got when he was in charge of the cult, all those eyes on him, looking at him, seeing him.
But none of those eyes ever felt half as good as Alastor’s.]
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It all felt new again. It felt different, somehow more intimate. It wasn't that he had no affection for the women he was with, but there was always a different sort of distance. The gap between Alastor, who lived a double life, and other humans was vast. Here, in Hell, with video that should have complimented video, that gap seemed to narrow.
That sensation was there even now, but it was different. It felt as though his chest was constricting, like his chest cavity would collapse in on itself, choking the breath out of him and tearing through his heart. It was a warmth that drew him closer, and it was a pain that led him to shove Vox away, and perhaps it could be said that they'd found some comfortable distance in their constant fights and with those protective layers of strife and mockery. They could never be close, but they would never be alone either. It was an ugly, vile relationship, but a safe one, and one that they could keep alive and well for all eternity.
But there was a time when he'd thought they understood each other, and those complicated feelings had remained. It was something that he hadn't experienced before meeting him, and he hasn't since.
He was in no hurry to move, because it didn't really matter; angels didn't know how to make comfortable seats anyhow. It was all gaudy gold and other archaic materials. Rather, he eased myself closer and shifted his knees to face him better. He let his hand slide along the edge of Vox's screen, down his neck before coming to rest on his shoulder. The opposite hand moved up next, fingertips brushing against his waistband before his fingers slid up his torso before gripping his other shoulder. He massaged Vox's shoulders briefly before slipping his thumbs under the edges of his blazer and sliding his hands along in an effort to ease it down and off of him.
He was picking up where they left off. Surely they could get further this time. ]
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That depended on how long it took Vox to open his mouth.Vox could understand the double life, the need to hide certain aspects of one’s self from a hungry public. His power came from his image, the same power he could project from the clothes he wore to his presence of self; it had always been that way, living and dead. One didn’t gain a vast following with cracks.
The few supposedly “illicit” affairs he had were never spoken of, kept in far away motels, fake names, paid in cash and out of town. When it became impossible to do so as his name got bigger, brighter in those shimmering lights, he buried it all as much as he could. And when he woke here, when he finally tried and wasn’t arrested but instead laughed at-
No more letting anyone, anyone see anything other than what he wanted them to see. He controlled it. He controlled all of it.
Except that someone wouldn’t let it be that easy, would they? Poking him, prodding him, making him unravel every. Single. Time. Every wall didn’t matter, every bloody electronic strike didn’t matter, every shadowy throw at a wall didn’t fucking mean a thing. They were two moons trapped in the same orbit, forever moving but never getting closer, never able to leave.
His breath caught in his chest as felt how slow Alastor was moving, the way he seemed – the way that Vox could believe in that moment that it really, really wasn’t a trick. He was used to the quick and dirty of other people (not naming names), but this was the opposite, a painstaking journey that he didn’t mind taking the scenic route on. After all, he said he had a couple of hours before anyone (hopefully) would come looking for him. He shrugged his shoulders to help rid himself of the jacket, reluctantly pulling his arms free from Alastor so it could be gone completely. One of his cables reached over to snag it and put it back on the throne so it wouldn’t get wrinkled.
Image.
His own claws reached up, plucking at the red fabric of his coat, before tapping the buttons through the holes. They had done this before, hadn’t gotten much farther than that when it went to shit, but maybe this time, he wondered as he trailed his hands under it, running up his sides towards his chest, it would be better. Maybe they could not want to kill each other for a little longer.]
Shit.
[It was a quiet, murmured thing against his mouth before he pulled away just a hair. Don’t mind him as he puts his phone on Do Not Disturb.]
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He shakes his jacket off, tugging his hands free of it even as the other started to pull away. They hadn't gotten much further than this, and when he reached his hands up to toy with the other's bowtie, it was a half-hearted gesture. If people were calling him now, then it would only be so long before they were banging on the door - a couple hours before meetings or not.
Alastor could be a little kinder about it this time, at least. ]
... If you're busy, we can try again later, when it's really just the two of us.
[ It was still a little irritating, but he'd be far more irritated if someone came banging on the door. He's willing to accept that option, but Alastor couldn't exactly escape here, and he was that sort of private person who really would throw throw a tantrum and find it to be unforgivable if they were interrupted at a vulnerable moment. And so his ears pinned back again, demanding reassurance one way or another.
Vox could at least reserve his own bedrooom at night, or so one would hope. ]
I don't mind waiting.
[ Well, maybe a little, but... Well, if they had all night, then he could excuse it. Because Vox would make sure that they'd have all night. He'd better make sure they'd have all night, in fact, because Alastor would be demanding that if this went any further. ]
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All of this was so fragile that waiting seemed to be asking for trouble, like it would break whatever delicate balance they had. It was far more than enough time for Alastor to rethink it, shut it down, and get over the entire thing. Or, worse: find a way to use it against him.
But if he was coming back to do it again after the disaster that was the last time, then maybe there was hope.
Besides, the security of his own room, locked doors, being left alone all night? That was hard to argue with. Especially when he had a feeling that being interrupted would result in someone losing limbs and a whole lot of blood that he didn’t want to clean up.]
Reminder: ruler of two realms. When am I not busy?
[It was being a CEO times a million, but everyone knew to let him sleep, at least. It didn’t do well (for other people) when he didn’t. His hand slid up, the sharp point of his thumb running over one of Alastor’s cheeks, the end sparking ever-so-slightly. If it wouldn’t have made it suspicious, he would’ve forwarded his calls to Velvette.]
Fine. [He looked at throne with a sigh; there would be another time to defile it properly, he supposed.] My room, tonight at eleven. The door locks from the inside and no one has a key but me. Cameras off.
[There was a pause for a moment before he reached down to help put Alastor’s coat back on him, a noticeable contrast from last time.]
If you try to kill me in my sleep, though, I will smite you.
[His smile was exceptionally bright and sunny.]
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His displeased expression lasted past that hand on his cheek, the small shudder that the spark sent through him - a pleasant spark that made him want to nuzzle against the hand that held his face. He placed a hand over the one on his cheek and did just that, rubbing his cheek against the others palm before removing it so he could allow the other to help him put his coat back on.
HBe was still displeased as he buttoned it back up, but at length that sunny smile got a chuckle and his eyes grew a little wider and his grin widened into something more pleasant. ]
... Fine. But if you take your eyes off me for even a second, I'll kill you.
[ Alastor wouldn't. He couldn't. But he could still have a fit if displeased, and what good was that when they wanted the same thing? Because Alastor really...
For Vox alone, he there was...
xxxx... ]
But if you're a good boy, we can sleep together tonight. ♪
[ And that was indeed a promise of it being all night... The aftercare (if Vox was willing to trade experiments with a couple bites with sharp teeth for electric shocks) and cuddling up after and all. That was a fair deal, wasn't it? ]
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But he did know that Alastor’s face felt so good against his palm that he started to want it to be a This. ]
Oh, so you do want the cameras on.
[The laugh was low as he leaned in close to kiss him, a quick thing, something with a brief swipe of his tongue. What the fuck was he doing? How could Vox forgive him after everything? He needed to get his head back on straight, think all this through. This was ridiculous, and-
Suddenly, the screen turned for snow for a second, bright and white, before his extremely shocked face appeared back on it. Was it patterned with the absolute brightest blush possible? Yes. Did the offer of “being a good boy” and “sleeping together tonight” make his fingers stumble as they tried to fit buttons through the holes? Absolutely. He wasn’t a dog, and he certainly wasn’t a good boy, but the way it was said from him did something to him.
He looked at his wrist to see what time it was. Not late enough.
Dammit.]
“Good boys” don’t take over Heaven. [He smoothed his hands down the front of the other demon’s coat, straightening it.] What are you going to do while I’m working? You’re still a prisoner and we do have an image to uphold.
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Vox wasn't a dog, and in truth the expression wasn't meant to treat him as on so much as it was a gesture of teasing affection, but the reaction made him brighten. There was a glow to that toothy grin, something amused and delighted that hadn't been there in so many years, because he really hadn't expected it. ]
Well, well... [ His breath caught as the other smoothed his jacket out, sucking in a breath and causing his chest to jut out before he exhaled. He used his index finger to tilt Vox's screen up, ] God can have mercy, hmm...? As long as I don't leave here...?
[ He could be a benevolent God who let his prisoner wander within the confines of his wall, surely? Even if they were a little less unpleasant, Alastor would always feel those constraints, that crushing tightness. Nothing would fix his need for freedom.
But this wasn't the same as Hell. And Alastor does fix him with a look that asks if he really means to hide this forever. ]
And I should hope that a god should at least be able to say who he's courting, prisoner or otherwise...
[ Because Vox isn't embarrassed by that, right...? He doesn't see it as harming his image anymore, not when Alastor is willing to accept it despite being the famed solitary Radio Demon, right...? ]
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It’s optics, Al. [His mouth was a tight line, conflicted in the moment. He knew the answer Alastor wanted, of course, but he also knew how it would look to the angels he just took over, how it looked to the other Sinners out there. Strength was important during a takeover, in the fresh weeks after a rebellion.] If I seem easy on you, then other people will think I’m weak. That’s when you get assassination attempts, fights, blowback. Everything is delicate right now.
[This probably wasn’t going to go well, and he could feel the weight of it in the air. His hand reached up to cup the side of Alastor’s neck, his sharp thumb running over his jawline like it was a razorblade. The next words came through his speakers, the barest of fuzz tickling at syllables.]
You understand, don’t you?
[Please don’t cut off his hand.]
I’m not saying tie you to a chair again – unless you want me to? - but maybe just wait in here today.
[He wasn’t a secret! He just- this was- there was the image! And appearances! And staying strong in these new, unprecedented times! Alastor would understand. Right?
Right?
Although the one who wasn’t exactly understanding was Vox because courting? Courting was actually a Thing. It was effort and the start of something serious and romantic and he wasn’t- that was- Shit, what was he going to tell Val? Did Alastor understand the level of rage this was going to start? And was it-were they-
Were they actually dating and he didn’t know it? They hadn’t even managed to get beyond kissing without almost murdering one another.
Now that he thought on it, that seemed to be like most of his relationships.]
I – We should probably wait until after tomorrow morning to figure out all that. Courting is a big deal and we might be dead by then.
[Terrible save.]
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