Archive of Our Own ^beta

“-And that’s all for tonight, we’ll see you next week with more news. Until then, stay tuned!” Vox concluded with the same fake smile that had accompanied his expressions for the last several hours, letting it hang for a few seconds longer as he waited impatiently for the cameras to stop filming.

As soon as he noticed the recording was cut he slumped back in his chair, the confident, self-assured smile dropping from his face and transforming into a tired grimace. He closed his eyes and let his muscles relax, the feeling similar to water pouring out of a spilled cup, with the sounds of traffic and people bustling around still echoing through his mind from the many cameras he had set up throughout the city.

It’s not to say that he didn’t enjoy his work, he wouldn’t be as successful if he didn’t, but ever since the failed extermination it had been a hassle trying to remain as successful. People were either losing their minds and succumbing to self-destructive hopelessness or they were recklessly celebrating, thinking the heavenly threat was dealt with for good. His job was to somehow appease both parties or risk losing a large portion of his following, which ended up with him sitting in his office for days on end hosting shows, spreading news, and keeping people up to date with the latest Voxtek projects aimed at securing people’s “safety” in such difficult times.

So far it was going well, but it was exhausting. Vox pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to clear his vision and anchor himself back to reality, pointedly ignoring how dry his throat was from speaking for so long, made worse by not having time to eat or drink. All it did was make him more hyperaware of the ache in his shoulders and back, both stiff from disuse. When the fog in his brain failed to extinguish, he grabbed the cables connecting to the back of his head and yanked them out with a groan.

Deciding to call it a day, he sat up and stretched his limbs, wincing at the pops the movement caused. All he wanted to do the rest of the night was lay in bed and stop pretending he cared about anything else, besides, it was almost time for a different media demon to start his own show, so the number of viewers watching Vox would have dropped either way. Although no one would catch him alive admitting that.

Turning off the computers and closing up his office, he made his way to his suite, brushing past employees pestering him with more work, only outsourcing the important assignments brought to him by his assistant. Vox was almost inclined to give the lad unnecessary tasks just to mess with him and cause him to lose a couple of hours of his day, but he found himself lacking the urge to do even that.

As soon as he made it to his own apartment he shut the door and locked it with an audible click, the sound echoing around the room felt like music to his ears. He pushed down the small pang of guilt for calling it quits so early in the evening when Valentino and Velvette were still working, both of them had also been just as busy and engaged for the past month. He was thankful for them and even though he did want to spend time with them sometimes some solitude and rest was what he needed.

Exhaling a long breath, Vox made a beeline to his bedroom. He chucked off his suit jacket, vest and bowtie, throwing them in a heap on the floor and took off his shoes before lazily plopping down on the bed. The smell of lavender and his own cologne wafted through the air, causing him to sink even deeper into relaxation. He didn’t want to think about work anymore for today, the soft sheets and warm covers were too good of a temptation for his worn out mind.

He fluffed his pillow and settled into a more comfortable position. Pushing himself up slightly, Vox pressed his thumb on one of the panels on the wall next to his bed and waited as the program he had secretly installed scanned his finger. He watched the bright blue beam run downwards before the console flashed green, the tile opening to reveal the contents inside.

The compartment was small, no larger than an arms length, yet easily labeled as one of the most secure and protected parts in Hell. Vox stuck his hand inside and grabbed the precious item he wouldn’t trust to be stored anywhere else in Pentagram City.

He brought out a small, brown radio, far older than anyone might encounter in today’s day and age, but treasured and kept in the best condition nonetheless.

He knew it was risky keeping a radio, especially so close to where he slept, when his worst and most dangerous enemy was capable of controlling the devices with barely a thought, but so far he hadn’t had any miscalculated incidents that might make him regret keeping it in the first place or cause him to lose his head entirely. The reason it remained in his possession was no more than an irrational and unbearable unwillingness to dispose of it.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the damn thing, somehow erasing the memory of Alastor ever giving it to him in the first place was far worse than remembering Alastor regret doing it. By holding his humiliation and shame close to his chest Vox also cherished the pride Alastor once felt for him. That way he could somehow console himself that at least he had experienced companionship and closeness the likes of which others could only dream of.

The item held a special significance for him, which was partly why he hid it from the other Vees, never mind their reactions if they found out in how much peril he was putting himself in, it was simply his reluctance to avoid the pain of resurfacing old, gut-wrenching memories again and bare himself for all to mock and ridicule.

It was also the only means he had left of being close to Alastor, of hearing his voice and listening to him talk about anything and everything, that didn’t result with an entire block of the city being reduced to ash.

He glanced at the clock on his table, content when he saw he still had around five minutes left before the start of The Radio Demon’s show. He didn’t tune into his shows often, not wanting to compromise himself and draw Alastor’s attention, but in some days he simply craved his voice, no matter how much he hated how soothing of an effect it had on him.

Vox ran his hands over the radio, fidgeting with the dials and feeling the crevices along its edges and sides. His fingers brushed past small cracks and cuts which made his heart clench a little at his failure to keep it pristine and spotless. An impossible task he knew, given how old it was and how much time had passed since it was given to him, yet it didn’t stop the feeling that he was somehow doing it to the very person who gave it to him, as if he was causing those dents to Alastor himself, no matter how minute and insubstantial they were. As if by damaging the radio he was indirectly hurting Alastor.

How ironic.

He was all too well aware that he hadn’t done anything to cause Alastor harm, not really, but the images of his disappointment still lingered fresh in Vox’s mind, as though it had happened yesterday. It took him a long time to realize that it wasn’t completely his own doing that prompted Alastor to react so harshly. All he did was express his feelings. Pure, harmless, inoffensive feelings.

He knew what the word for them was.

Love.

He hated Alastor. He hated that he loved him. He hated how Alastor morphed his definition of love. Because of him Vox had never been given the freedom to love again. It was because of him that his chest felt like it had a gaping hole in it. He was the reason that Vox didn’t have a heart to give to the people who actually deserved it, who had the potential to care for him and give him the same type of love he craved from Alastor. Objectively, he knew the physical injuries that he sustained from his former friend had healed a long time ago, his body had forgotten the encounter even though his mind hadn’t. He just wished it didn’t hurt still.

He curled his hands over the radio and brought it close to his chest, resting his chin on top of it, hating yet relishing the painful comfort it brought him. He imagined it wasn’t the radio he was holding so closely, a pitiful attempt at filling the empty crevice in his anguished soul that so miserably wanted to be cherished.

Vox often wondered what Alastor did to his heart after he stole it. Did he immediately crush it, not feeling a shred of remorse or sympathy for his friend? Or did he keep it hidden somewhere like Vox kept the radio, every now and then picking it up to dig his claws in just for fun, drawing more blood and relishing in the taste without paying any mind to the person to whom it once belonged.

It was that careless attitude, that same apathetic indifference and insistence that he meant nothing to Alastor that made Vox so defensive throughout the years and caused his indignation to rise and morph into anger with a barely subdued need for retaliation. A feeling to cause Alastor real pain started to grow in him, to show him how badly he had misjudged the situation and what he could have had if he had accepted Vox’s offer instead of tossing him to the curb as though their friendship had never existed.

And maybe it hadn’t, maybe it was always just in Vox’s imagination. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what kind of person Alastor was when he chose the position as his business partner, or that he chose to ignore his violent, sadistic, self-serving, manipulative tendencies. The possibility that none of it had been real plagued him countless nights.

Having that rare closeness, those countless fond moments of laughter and joy as well as the delicate care that left Vox breathless anytime Alastor displayed it caused him to want the demon to know the betrayal and hurt that he felt. He wanted him to realize the possibilities that could have been, the life he could have lived had he reciprocated instead of severing that precious connection between them and ripping all the softness and adoration that Vox desperately clung to even now, even in the form of past fleeting memories because he knew the odds of ever feeling them again were non-existent.

And he would have had that happiness. Vox would have given it to him. He would have spent every waking hour of his useless afterlife trying to make Alastor happy with a gritting determination and reverence he could never devote to anyone else.

Therefore, ever since Alastor had declined his offer, not strong enough to cope with his lack of fulfillment and purpose, Vox felt an incessant need to show him the difference between the person he was with him and the person he was with everyone else. There was a boiling, insatiable desire to witness Alastor getting thoroughly acquainted with The TV Demon, to show him exactly who Vox could be, who he was with every other sinner in Hell. To show him just how ruthless, cold and downright cruel he was capable of being.

He wanted a first-class seat at seeing Alastor mourning the person he knew, of seeing him regret his decision and come crawling back to Vox, begging him to bring back his friend. The need to see Alastor admit he was wrong, to say sorry, was driving him mad, gnawing at his bones and causing his whole body to vibrate with a passionate fury and frustration only one demon could evoke in him at the slightest mention of that demon’s name.

Though, all of that pent up rage that was coursing through his veins on a daily basis was only surface level. Deep down he was still the same even decades later, just a hopeless fool with a desperate need for connection and an unlucky destiny to fall for the wrong person.

He was reminded of that fact not long after thinking it as he heard static starting to emit from the radio. He jumped, the noise while not loud still caught him off guard while he was stewing in his thoughts.

He adjusted the dials and switches to the optimal frequency and set the radio on the table. Vox laid back on his side and positioned himself to be more comfortable as he waited for the host to begin his broadcast. He wondered what kind of show it will be this time, will it be another torture session, which oddly enough Vox wasn’t particularly looking forward to, or a music shuffle? He hoped it would be the latter since he really just tuned in to hear Alastor’s voice. The wish frustrated him to pieces.

He didn’t have to wait long, in a matter of seconds the crackling static was replaced with an enthusiastic voice “Greetings, ladies, gentlemen and despondent sinners!” Vox unconsciously perked up, ignoring the way his heart involuntarily picked up its pace “As you’re all aware, these are trying times, but not to worry! Here we make sure you’re well informed on the current situation and proceedings happening in Hell or, in other words, spreading the actual truth of the matter unlike other forms of media-“

“Oh, please!” Vox made a mental note to bash Alastor's show more often, even though everything he said was perfectly true.

“-So join us! However, today, I myself will be treating you with an array of songs. Yes, I know, there will be no screaming this time. How disappointing.” a deep chuckle. Even from the other side of the city Vox could feel the malice covered in sweet words and it sent a shiver down his spine. ”Nonetheless, stay and allow yourself some reprieve.”

Vox was already seated and comfortable, reprieve was exactly what he needed right now.

Alastor cleared his throat and started humming a gentle tune as the music began playing, the notes soft and calming. He knew the song, not that it would have made a difference if he didn’t, he would have listened to anything as long as it was Alastor singing it.

“~Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'”

The dissonance between Alastor as a person and his voice was almost unacceptable. Vox had always found it hard to wrap his head around the reality of someone so heartless and selfish having that type of sweet and comforting aura that could make anyone drop their guard and be dangerously lulled into a false sense of safety. Yet it made perfect sense, Alastor had refined his methods to cause pain and misery in the most efficient way for decades, the two sides of him didn’t even clash but instead danced around one another keeping up a flawless pace as they waved through an unfortunate crowd that had no chance of predicting which side it would bump into. The possibility of being mercilessly torn apart and the possibility of having one’s life blessed with witnessing a personality strong enough to topple mountains accompanied with a smile sharper than a blade both hung in a precarious, unpredictable balance.

Vox had had the privilege of experiencing both, he still remembered the danger and excitement of having Alastor’s attention reserved sorely on him, even if it was for a short amount of time, not knowing whether he would be graced with being allowed to remain in his presence or be swiftly ripped apart like a rag doll. The feeling was like being tossed in a pool of sharks in the middle of a feeding frenzy. He could still feel it simmering and burning in his soul.

It was divine.

It only took a few moments for Vox to completely slump, an expected effect from letting Alastor’s voice drift over him and drown out all other distractions littering his mind, every word chipping away pieces of his wariness as the song went on.

Vox rolled his eyes “Pretentious prick.” he mumbled, it was quite hypocritical to base your show on suffering and agony while having such a falsely compassionate display of mislaid tenderness.

He closed his eyes, letting the gentle melody wash over him made all the more soft by Alastor’s obvious care and dedication to his show. The lack of visual stimulation only heightened the pleasurable tingling that engulfed his body. It was worth drowning in. Vox wanted to be swept away by the music and made to feel nothing but that beautiful voice.

And he was. It took only a couple more songs aided with the weight of a tiring day’s work for Vox to unconsciously drift off to sleep. His departure into the realm of dreams and nightmares was accompanied by that same voice that he loved and hated in equal measure as a sort of farewell with a disquieting promise to meet again soon…

----------------------

Feeling the beginning caresses of consciousness calling for him, Vox slowly got accustomed to reality’s grip that started to prod his body into wakefulness.

He blinked slowly, eyelids heavy with exhaustion as his eyes adjusted.

The first thing he noticed was the undisturbed silence that had taken over the room. It was completely quiet.

Ominously so…

He focused his gaze and his eyes landed on the radio still on his bedside table.

Still turned on.

A sinking feeling crept in his stomach. The realization of what he had just done jolted him awake.

Suddenly, there was a much more haunting atmosphere filling his bedroom that made all his senses sharper, the small burst of adrenaline going straight for his brain and clearing up any fog that still lingered from his irresponsible dozing off. It had gotten dark outside too, the only light that illuminated the room originated from his nightlamp and the crimson sky above, casting an eerie glow that made the shadows inkier than was normal.

He had accidentally fallen asleep with a direct link to Alastor, leaving himself vulnerable and senselessly unaware of his surroundings. Vox could count on his hand the number of scenarios more dangerous than the one he had foolishly just put himself in.

His body felt stiff, as if it was subconsciously trying to protect him by keeping him unmoving and silent, as if by him showing any signs of life something would notice. He didn’t even know what and yet it paralyzed him with fear. The darkness of the room felt like a void ready to swallow him whole but would do it as an act of kindness to spare him from the creatures that could be lurking within.

He couldn’t help the feeling that he was being watched and it made every hair on his body stand up in alarm. He stared at the radio, too apprehensive to move a single muscle. He didn’t notice any particular static emitting from it, yet the air felt thick with charge. It was probably his own panic since there was no sign of anyone on the other end.

Vox made a silent promise to himself to never, ever again make any contact with The Radio Demon, even if only one side was aware of it, while he was worn out and unfit to keep his defenses up. He tried to console himself with the fact that he was still alive, so there hadn’t really been any harm done. Thankful for his luck he attempted to squash the foreboding feeling that still rumbled in his gut, a clear sign of his unease, as he tried to conclude without much conviction that there was no reason to fret.

Yet, he couldn’t rid himself of the vague sense of dread that refused to leave his bones, getting louder by the second, it’s form twisting into a warning that something was wrong.

That something was very wrong.

The feeling only grew in intensity. Unable to help his heart beating against his ribcage any longer Vox mustered up the courage out of sheer frustration and sat up to turn off the radio, the movement sending panic through his body as if by doing something so minute would put him in serious jeopardy.

Even though the item was within reach it felt like it was miles away. Before his trembling hand could make contact with it however, his attention was drawn to something on his wrist that vaguely registered just out of the corner of his eye.

He peered down at it only now noticing the heavy object that was circling it. Vox knew for a fact that it wasn’t there when he had fallen asleep and he knew with perfect clarity that he would never willingly put it on himself. He brushed his fingers over the thick rubber strap that was locked around his wrist and saw an identical one adorning his other hand.

“What the fuck?”

He immediately started digging his fingers between the cuff and his arm, trying to get it off and failing. It was thick and broad, not tight enough to cut off circulation but still tight enough that it was impossible to ignore, it’s edges digging painfully in his skin and rubbing uncomfortably as he tried to pry it off.

His breathing became erratic and his movements wild as fear and desperation took over his whole body causing his systems to heat up and the fans at the back of his head to start whirring frantically.

“What the FUCK?!” he yelled louder, voice buffering and screen glitching.

The small padlock that locked it would not budge. He tried ripping it off, tried clawing at the rubber but nothing worked. He started to heave, not knowing what was happening except that he was in serious danger.

He needed to. Get. Them. Off.

Every cell in his body started to scream at him to run. To run and hide. To get as far away from here as possible and not look back.

He tried teleporting away.

It didn’t work.

He attempted to locate one of the cameras that he knew were situated outside his bedroom to use as a means of escape, horrified when he felt nothing.

Dread started to seep into his gut and he anxiously reached a shaking hand towards his antennas, his whole body going stiff as unbridled terror spread through every inch of it when he felt rubber straps around both of them, smaller but potent, cutting off his signal entirely and eliminating the last desperate attempt his powers could have given him to get out of there.

Vox felt like his heart was ready to burst out of his chest. His struggling did nothing to even loosen the cuffs and his realization that he was completely helpless caused an anguished whine that bordered on a sob to escape him.

“I’m afraid your efforts will prove rather futile, the only thing you will achieve will be ripping your skin off.”

Vox went still.

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice filled with static all too well. Only that voice was capable of ceasing his movements while he was in such a distressed state and at the same time to cause him even more terror.

Vox turned towards the direction where he assumed it came from and saw a dark silhouette draped over the armchair across his bed.

Before he could even attempt to form words the figure stood up, the shadows surrounding it following in its pace, and walked towards the bed where the light could properly catch it.

Every second felt like an eternity as the figure slowly made its way closer to Vox, each footstep sending a hurricane of dread that numbed the edges of his mind and dulled any rational thought as all of his focus narrowed on that person.

He should have realized who it was just by the cuffs that had been put on his wrists and antennas, he should have known exactly why his nervous system had been wailing and shouting in manic alarm from the moment he woke up. The thing about Vox’s powers was that while they might be powerful enough to demolish entire buildings and cause a city wide blackout, that strength came with a weakness.

And there was only one other person who knew what it was.

The cuffs didn’t have a chain or a rope linked to them because one wasn’t even necessary. Rubber was an isolator. And as long as it was firmly strapped around him it prevented him from using his powers, serving to block the outlet of electricity that was coiling in his very core ready to be expelled, building like a volcano preparing to burst but stifled and pushed down.

As long as the rubber straps were on him, Vox was utterly and completely fucked.

He knew who put them on, he knew just from the wicked glee radiating from his words that carried the unmistakable hint of a smile, but that knowledge didn’t stop his breath hitching when Alastor finally made himself visible.

The light barely illuminated his face, the parts that it didn’t cover were compensated with the red glow shining from his eyes that twinkled with malicious intent punctuated even more by his smile stretching wider, exposing sharp teeth that could cut through flesh like butter. Suddenly, threatening him on live television, out of the comfort and safety of his office, felt like the most idiotic thing Vox had ever done as he stared up at what was probably going to be his doom.

The demon only smiled down at him, amusement clear on his face as he relished in the fear that was undoubtedly displayed on Vox’s, and in that moment he knew, there was no going back from this. His chest clenched at the realization that he would never get the life he had barely a few hours ago back. All of it would be gone because of one reckless, thoughtless mistake. Whatever happened next would be entirely his own fault.

“Hello, old friend.”

Vox threw himself at his bedside table, opening the top drawer with uncoordinated movements where a gun was located precisely for a scenario such as this, knowing he had less than a second to act.

His heart dropped when he opened the drawer only to find it empty.

He tried the bottom one in vain, thinking, hoping to god he had only misplaced it.

It wasn’t there. He let out a frustrated growl as his efforts proved futile.

“Looking for this?”

Vox turned to Alastor to see him holding the gun between his fingers before opening a portal and unceremoniously tossing it into the void. He settled his hands on his cane like nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t thoroughly just crushed all of Vox’s hopes, his signature smile in its usual place, waiting for his next move like someone who had all the time in the world.

Or like someone who knew he was going to win no matter how the situation played out.

Not having any other options, Vox grabbed a pillow and threw it at Alastor, using it as a distraction so he could launch himself towards the door and get out. It hit him square in the face and fell lamely to the ground, revealing Alastor’s unimpressed look.

Vox didn’t have time to waste or debate how pointless him trying to run was. The door was only a few meters away, but before he could get to it shadows started obscuring it, causing him to abruptly halt in his tracks. Their fluid movements hid the entirety of the door in a matter of seconds, their sharp edges as they swiftly twisted and coiled around themselves were enough to deter him from even thinking about barreling through.

He turned around looking for a different means of escape and was met with Alastor's unperturbed gaze. The demon hadn’t moved from where he stood. He didn’t need to, both of them knew Vox wasn’t getting out.

“Unless you’re planning to jump through the window and fall sixty feet, in which case I would gladly step back and watch, I recommend you sit back down.”

At that moment the window seemed like the preferable option.

Knowing there wasn’t an available way to leave, Vox hurled himself at Alastor, his fist heading straight for the other demon’s face. He knew he didn’t stand a single chance of beating him since he was bereft of his powers, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for him. He couldn’t use even a shred of his powers but he still had bare physical strength to fight with and he would not succumb to fear and admit defeat so quickly. He would rather get tossed around and have several of his bones broken than give Alastor the satisfaction of seeing him cower.

Alastor dodged his attack effortlessly and Vox’s fist flew through the air.

He threw another punch at a rapid pace, not wanting to give Alastor time to evade it again, but still failed to land a hit as the other ducked under his arm, reappearing behind him.

“Really, Vox?”

He brought up his elbow, trying to hit him but Alastor blocked it and used the grip he had to shove him forward, making him temporarily lose his footing. His anger only grew at Alastor’s calm and unfazed attitude. Furious, he righted himself with an irritated groan and threw another punch.

Alastor merely dissolved into the shadows at the last second with the same collected expression, the movement causing Vox to lose his balance and stumble forward. He barely managed to catch himself on the nightstand, letting out a pained hiss as the sharp edge sliced his hand open.

Blood started to trickle down his right arm and he barely had time to process one of Alastor’s shadows coiling around his ankle before using it to swiftly pull him backwards. He tried to get up onto his elbows, but was pushed back down by a heavy weight settling on his back that made his already panting breaths even more difficult to draw.

“If you’re quite finished-” The voice came from above him and Vox realized Alastor had sat on top of him. He grunted in exasperation at the sheer audacity of this man who wouldn’t shift despite Vox’s struggling.

“Get off, you creepy fuck!” It was more difficult to shout than he thought it was, putting into perspective how his words were slurred from the fight that had slightly drained him of energy as well as the lingering effects of the fear that ravaged his body, not to mention a whole person sitting on his back.

“Not until you decide to conduct yourself in a respectable manner and stop this little tantrum.”

His muscles were aching from exertion but he still managed to retort “You broke into my apartment, handcuffed me while I was asleep and you expect me not to want to claw your bloody face off?!”

“'Broke into' is a rather strong way of phrasing it, don’t you think? And the cuffs are simply a precaution. I’m glad to see it was the right decision, you’ve always been quite predictable.” Alastor merely chuckled at Vox’s reaction as he started to thrash more vigorously beneath him.

Alastor didn’t say anything while he tried to unsuccessfully shimmy away, he just sat and watched him which somehow aggravated Vox even more. Eventually, his struggles died down, worn out as he was and knowing they were futile either way.

He slumped back down and with a weak sigh he asked “What do you want?”

“I could answer that question. Will you behave so we could have a little chat?” Alastor said as he ran a claw along the side of Vox’s screen, the scraping sound grating in his mind.

His tone irked Vox endlessly, sending flaring waves of boiling anger throughout his body, but he clenched his teeth and gritted out “Yes.”

He wasn’t lying, he wouldn’t continue to fight him without getting exhausted even if he could since there was no point in it, all he would achieve would be to incite his anger. Seeing at how defenseless he was in his current predicament, the last thing he should be doing was provoking Alastor. He also just wanted him to get up so he could get a chance to breathe.

The other demon let a few seconds pass before asking “Do you promise?”

The patronizing question could have caused him to explode from pure rage. He dug his claws in the floor, leaving dents in the tiles. Vox knew he was only trying to rouse him, but it didn’t stop the turbulent jolts born out of indignation to rake his whole being.

He grit his teeth even harder, vaguely feeling worry that they might crack as he closed his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge Alastor’s victorious grin, before he answered.

“Yes.”

He hated how small his voice sounded.

“Wonderful!”

At that moment there was nothing else in Hell or Heaven that Vox hated more than this man. He loathed with a passionate fury how insubstantial, how meek, how subserviant Alastor made him feel. They had only been interacting for about five minutes and already he had him obediently answering without much objection.

When Alastor finally got up, Vox took a long ragged breath. He got on shaking hands and knees and pushed himself up, trying to clear his head from how dizzy his mind got at the movement.

Alastor waited for him patiently, still just as collected and unbothered as before, as though the fight never even took place. When he was certain Vox wouldn’t attack him he gestured for him to sit back on the bed.

Not wasting energy trying to oppose Alastor on the matter, he sat down. “Now, will you tell me what the hell you want?” He knew he was in no position to demand anything, but he had to at least pretend to preserve some of his pride.

Alastor shrugged and crossed his legs “Well, you see my friend, I was broadcasting as I usually do at that hour, when I felt a particularly familiar frequency tuning in,” Vox’s eyes must have gone wide because Alastor continued “Oh, yes. Every radio has it’s own characteristic set of wave lengths, and the one I gave to you so long ago has an unmistakable tone. I picked it myself after all.”

He paused, giving Vox time for the information to settle “I knew you were listening, as I did every other time you chose to listen to my show.”

“So why didn’t you say anything before?” Vox interrupted him, needing to know. The embarrassment threatened to crumble him on the spot.

Alastor only gave a small laugh “I didn’t want to spoil your fun.” he threw his arms open “And besides, I wouldn’t have payed you any visits since I had a show to run. I value my work, as I’m sure you know, and it wouldn’t have boded well for my reputation if I impatiently jumped at the slightest opportunity to squabble with a rival.”

Alastor straightened up and put both of his hands on the top of his microphone, resting his chin on them and staring directly at Vox “But, today I noticed your radio was still turned on even after I wrapped up my broadcast. I didn’t think much of it, initially. I simply presumed you wanted to lure me in, thinking that you had gotten bored and decided a play with fire was a wise decision. Except, you were still listening, even half an hour later.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement “I got curious, so I used the connection to transport myself to your location. I entered through the radio and what do I find?” His smile grew into an even more sinister and malevolent form, it was only the laws of physics that prevented literal venom from dripping out of it. “My enemy, fast asleep and completely unaware of my presence. Why, you didn’t even notice when I incapacitated your powers. It was all far too easy. I admit, I knew you were careless, but I never expected you to make this kind of reckless mistake.”

Alastor practically threw Vox’s own thoughts back at him. For some reason, his chest clenched at the thought of having let him down again, as well as the official way the demon had called him his enemy, as though the title had been sealed, leaving no room for rectification.

Before he could mull over his own twisted feelings, Alastor sat up and made his way towards him. Vox couldn’t resist the urge to shuffle back a bit, the cuffs on his wrists a heavy reminder how incapable he was to protect himself should the other choose to strike. He looked up at Alastor who stopped just in front of him, peering down with that same unmoving, confident expression, he knew he held all the cards and he was only biding his time, savoring the control he had over the situation.

It made Vox feel like an ant. Trying to regain some form of his own control he asked the long awaited question “So why haven’t you killed me yet?” He knew the answer. He had already made peace with the fact that his death would be slow and painful, that Alastor would drag out his suffering as payment for all the times Vox fought him, or foiled his plans, or publicly ridiculed him. He just wanted to hear Alastor say it.

Alastor stared at him for a few moments before he responded “Because, my dear, I’m not going to kill you.”

Vox was pretty sure something short-circuited in his head. He blinked up at Alastor, confusion and disbelief clear on his face. An unspoken Huh passed between them and he noticed, continuing:

“I understand that it’s hard to believe, even I myself am finding it difficult not to rip you apart where you’re sitting and enjoy a delicious meal,” His eyes narrowed in delight as the images undoubtedly played in his mind. All Vox could think about though was that he had called him delicious. “But, it’s unseemly, depraved and, frankly, weak to dispose of someone while they’re unable to defend themselves. Oh, how I wish you had been awake. The night would have been far more exciting.”

Vox felt something in his stomach flutter at Alastor’s confession. He might be a conniving, opportunistic killer, but he had standards and a moral code, no matter how warped and unethical they were. That was very rare in Hell.

Even after all these years, Alastor still managed to surprise him.

He stared at him, now with more respect than he had previously “Alright, so what’s with these?” he gestured to his hands and antennas. “Why even bother putting them on if you’re not going to do anything to me? Honestly, I don’t know what’s more unsettling, were you waiting and planning on this type of scenario happening or do you just casually carry them around?”

“I would be quite the fool to ignore an opportunity such as this one. But, if you must know, I had them commissioned right after the little stunt you pulled when I had just come back that resulted with the whole city losing power.” Vox remembered it with perfect clarity. It had been stupid to declare he knew Alastor had returned and challenge him on live TV, but his ability for rational thought was always reduced when The Radio Demon was involved. ”So yes, I have been carrying them just for you.”

He shouldn’t be blushing at those words that indicated Alastor had been thinking about him and even considering him as a serious threat, no normal person would, he just hoped his blush wasn’t that visible on his screen.

“Like I said before, they’re merely a precaution. It’s not like you don’t have a tendency to emotionally react and lash out at me whenever I’m in your vicinity, so you’ll have to forgive me for feeling the need to subdue you.”

At that Vox raised an eyebrow “Well, it’s not like you don’t have a tendency to attack me whenever I’m in your vicinity. It’s a two way street, Alastor.” A fresh wave of anger bubbled up in his chest, not as strong as before, but it still made its presence known. It was a new level of cruel for Alastor to call him impulsive and irrational when he knew exactly why they were enemies. It was almost inhumane to label him as unreasonable for being pissed, as though his feelings were an unnecessary complication and that their falling out was somehow his fault.

Alastor merely hummed “I suppose.”

A short silence fell between them after that. Vox was torn between the need to ask the hundred questions that were swirling in his mind and to just let Alastor make the next move, curious on what he’ll do next. There was always a reason for everything Alastor did, and he wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of fighting Vox if he was just going to have a cup of coffee with him.

“To answer your other question,” Alastor’s gaze turned even more piercing as his voice took on a more serious tone “we need to talk.”

Vox huffed, the reaction not going unnoticed by the other. His first thought was Yeah, no shit, but at seeing Alastor’s resolute expression he refrained from voicing it. They hadn’t actually talked about what happened between them, not really. He spent countless nights mulling their argument over in his head, thinking what he could have said or done differently to avoid the unfortunate manner in which their conversation had been resolved. All the scenarios that he played out in his own imagination of how he could fix what had been broken were too many to be stacked in his mind, the pain of not being able to even try to amend their relationship unbearable.

So, if Alastor wanted to talk, Vox was all ears.

He crossed his arms and stared directly at him “Alright. You first.”

Alastor shrugged “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, thanks to those pesky cameras you keep sending to spy on me,” his tone shifted to one of annoyance “that I’ve taken it upon myself to ensure the Princess’s hotel is protected and able to run without a hitch. Unfortunately, I can’t do that knowing you’re preparing to derail all my hard work.”

Vox nodded as understanding dawned on him “I see. So you want to make a deal?” Of course, keeping him alive wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart. He mentally kicked himself for even believing that in the first place. He made sure his tone was riddled with disappointment “I promise not to attack the hotel or it’s residents and you promise to take these off.”

“Well, I think it’s fair.” Alastor extended a hand, green light glowing from it and reflecting off of the walls of the room.

Vox stared at his open hand, his body instinctually feeling the need to take it, as though Alastor’s power itself was drawing him in, telling him to accept. The offer was rather reasonable, he would meet the morning sun with his head still on his shoulders and in return he would only have to avoid interfering with the crew and patrons.

“No.”

The Radio Demon raised an eyebrow, shock passing over his face before it was quickly schooled back. He tilted his head.

“No?” He gave a small laugh “My dear, it seems you aren’t fully comprehending your situation.” In the blink of an eye, his usual, composed expression twisted into a snarl, sharp teeth on bare display and eyes turned into dials, ticking away as though counting the seconds the person they were aimed at had left to live. He bent down closer, antlers growing as his shape twisted and bent at unnatural angles “You don’t have a choice.”

It took all of Vox’s self-control not to bolt. He gulped, trying to tamp down the new burst of fear that settled in his gut, the build up of stress and anxiety made him nauseous. Alastor didn’t even have to make the deal, not with Lucifer residing at the hotel which practically guaranteed no one will be attacking it any time soon. Nothing was stopping him from going through with his threat.

While he promised he wouldn’t kill Vox, he didn’t specify that he wouldn’t hurt him or keep him here until he relented. He didn’t know where he found the courage, but he gathered up even the tiniest specks he could muster and shrugged, trying to keep a calm composure as he reiterated “No.”

He could feel Alastor getting ready to tear him to shreds. Sensing his restraint thinning, Vox continued “I won’t do it because I have a better offer.” The other stilled, waiting for him to explain.

Feeling confident in what he was going to say, perhaps overconfident, Vox let a small dose of smugness built into a smile “You will let me go, today, and in return I promise not to publicize the footage of you receiving a fatal injury from the First Man for all to see.”

A sharp buzz cut through the air, similar to a record player cutting off, the sound ear-piercing. The air felt thick with barely controlled static lacing that made it hard to breathe as Alastor took in the words. For a split second Vox could see his entire life flash before his eyes.

He braced himself for Alastor to strike, surprised when all he did was shrink back to his usual form, the radio effect disappearing from his eyes.

“Do it.”

His whole plan flew out the window.

Well, fuck.

Trying to remain on top of the argument, he quickly elaborated. “Trust me, you don’t want that. What will you do once every sinner finds out that you got your ass handed to you so badly that you can’t even put up a fight? Do you think anyone at that hotel will bother to deal with a swarm of demons at it’s front doors itching for a bite out of you?”

Lightning fast, Vox shot a hand towards Alastor's chest, right where he knew a wound had been brutally inflicted.

He cried out, the blow causing him to take a few steps back. Vox was really enjoying the way the tables had turned, even if the short power grab wouldn’t last long he couldn’t stop the glee radiating off his face, elated that he had managed to land a hit.

He didn’t need to be reminded of the method of death Alastor reserved sorely for overlords. Whatever the demon had in store for him, Vox will not be coming back with his mental state intact. Alastor will ensure that every denizen of Hell remembers his screams for centuries. Even if he had just sealed his fate, he was content with the knowledge that he hadn’t been defeated without a fight.

Yet, once again, Alastor didn’t retaliate.

He looked at Vox, clearly agitated, patience waning. “Do it.”

When he didn’t do anything, to his dismay Alastor sharply smiled. “Ah, of course. You can’t, not with those on.” his voice mockingly sing-song as he pointed to the cuffs. “Though I must applaud your bravery, no matter how dimwitted it was.”

Alastor had been spewing insults at him the whole night, and Vox was sick of it. “At least I’m not stupid enough to go head to head with an angel without a weapon.” He internally berated himself for arguing. “That sounds pretty dimwitted to me.”

“Ha! At least I stood up to fight, while you were too busy hiding.”

“I’d call that stupid.”

Alastor let out a sigh. “I knew I should have destroyed those cameras when I had the chance, your pettiness never ceases to disappoint me, Vox.”

He could have strangled him. “So, why didn’t you? Got overconfident? Did that massive ego of yours convince you that you were powerful enough to defeat an angel all by yourself? Yep, sounds exactly like you.”

“Why didn’t you get rid of the radio?”

Alastor’s eyes widened at his admission and he sharply cut himself off.

A horrible silence took over the room.

If Vox understood him correctly, then his heart would have every reason to stop beating.

He huffed a laugh that did not reach his stone cold gaze. “Now, that’s not funny.”

They both knew perfectly well why Vox kept the radio. Alastor had always managed to find his deepest wounds and make them bleed even more.

Whatever caused him to lose his composure was quickly shoved down as Alastor righted himself once more, the cool and nonchalant aura back in place.

“I, for one, find it quite entertaining.”

It was as though he did everything he could to crush Vox’s soul, even taking extra measure as to stomp on the broken pieces and shatter them further. He had always been masterfully efficient at prodding at people’s inhibitions in the subtlest of ways while donning an amiable smile that hid his blood-thirsty hunger for inflicting pain, eventually causing them to lash out in defense only to play the innocent part afterwards, leading to the belief that the person he had been targeting was overly emotional, volatile and irrational.

It was a formidable ability that never failed to provoke Vox to manic fury. Now, he had taken a knife and aimed straight for his most insecure weaknesses. The painful wound that he himself dealt in the first place.

“Entertaining…?” Vox was seething and he made no attempt at hiding his rage from showing clearly on his screen and spill from his words as he stood up and took a few steps towards Alastor. “There’s nothing entertaining about this you heartless bastard! You know why I kept it. I told you what you mean to me. I bore my feelings out to you in confidence, because I trusted you to at least understand them! After you purposefully lead me on, after you made me believe there was a possibility you felt the same! But no, all of it was just a game for you, wasn’t it?”

He paused, breathing heavily and put his head in his hands as a crazed laugh escaped him “And the funniest thing is, I still can’t fucking get over you! Even after you beat the shit out of me, for no reason! You didn’t even say anything after, or even give me an explanation! You ditched me without a second thought!”

In his frenzied state it took him a moment for reality to come crashing down. Everything that he had wanted to say to Alastor, but never got the chance, was being yelled out in the open with no restrictions. “You left for seven years! I had to go through seven exterminations, not knowi-“

His voice cracked.

“Not knowing what had happened to you. Each of them made me think you were dead. I thought you were fucking dead and that it was my fault!”

He finally looked up at him, expecting to see that consistent, wicked smile. What he saw instead was a dejected look, eyes shifting between Vox’s, cane clutched close to his body. If he didn’t know better he would have surmised the demon was shocked at his still persevering affection, but he did know better and he knew Alastor was perfectly aware of his failure to diminish those feelings.

“Did I ever mean anything to you?” His voice grew quiet. “Was our friendship even real for you?”

Alastor opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, thinking over his words which was very unlike him. Noticing himself fumble for an answer, he averted his gaze to the floor.

“I don’t see any point in discussing this.”

“I would have died for you Al.” Vox said flatly, not worrying what repercussions that statement could have. “But, you never cared. I never even got the chance to say it.”

There was nothing Vox had ever done before that had managed to cause such a heartbreakingly anguished expression on Alastor’s face. There was no insult or soft statement Vox had uttered that had ever had that effect on him. The look was reminiscent of his reaction all those years ago when everything fell apart. He felt as though he was reliving the moment all over again, as if it was some twisted sense of punishment that could only be reserved for Hell’s most evil and psychotic inhabitants.

The irony of the situation was making him rethink his decision to not jump through the window. All these years he had done everything in his power to elicit that reaction from Alastor, to be the one to cause him to shrink in on himself in such a saddened display of despair. If this was happening then, Vox would have already ascended half way to Heaven, but now?

Now, it made him feel sick.

He had never wanted to hurt him like that. All of his anger and need for revenge mostly derived from his unquenchable need for Alastor to look at him in a way that wasn’t tainted with apathy, indifference or boredom. If he can’t have his love, then he would gladly accept his hate for it was far better than his disappointment. He would have rather been on the receiving end of his rage, because then at least his attention would have been aimed at him, because then it would have meant he mattered enough to Alastor for him to even acknowledge and waste his energy on Vox.

After all, it was easier pretending he never loved Alastor than it was to live with the knowledge that Alastor had never and would never love him back.

He waited for him to find his words, to say anything even if it was another rejection. Vox had said his piece, he had done what he failed all those years ago and laid out the options for him. It was Alastor’s choice now.

The Radio Demon turned to him, face stoic and eyes glacially cold.

“Enough.”

Vox’s heart sank.

He sneered, anger resurfacing.

“I will not waste any more time. You can count ‘not broadcasting your footage’ as part of our arrangement. I am here to make this deal and I won’t be leaving having failed, however long it takes to convince you.”

Alastor spread his arms, palms up, and summoned his shadows from the dark, each of them as menacing as the promise of pain they were about to deliver.

Vox felt a new wave of terror spread through him. It settled deep in his bones, spreading through his nerves faster than electricity through metal, scorching and painful. He backed away, breaths coming desperate and uneven, even though his reasoning knew it was useless it couldn’t stop the natural instinct of his body to run as images of what was to come flashed through his mind a thousand miles an hour, each one more horrifying and bloody than the last.

That option instantly vanished when he saw more shadows emerging from behind him. Alastor had closed him in, his shadows and tentacles converging from all sides. The demon claimed that he spared Vox out of mercy, but he couldn’t understand where his logic derived from to make him think torture was more compassionate than death.

Alastor extended his hand, the green aura causing the room to rattle as runes etched themselves across every surface.

“I advise you to accept it now.” Alastor’s eyes had turned back to radio dials and his demon form seemed impossibly threatening as he loomed over Vox.

He didn’t accept. Partly from the fear that petrified his whole body and caused his voice to get stuck in his throat, and partly to preserve his own dignity, but mostly because he didn’t want to surrender the chance for retribution.

He didn’t want to let go of the rivalry that was the last thing keeping Alastor close to him.

When there was no response, Alastor warned. “Vox.” his voice strained yet deadlier than he had ever heard it.

Vox still didn’t say anything, having made his choice. He only stared straight at him, daring him.

Alastor’s eyes were wide, teeth clenched and body tense and racked by his deep, heaving breaths. Then he straightened, squaring his shoulders, determination clear in his movements as he raised his hand, preparing to strike.

Vox briefly wondered if there had been any way of preventing them from coming to this. His memories of him and Alastor together played out in his mind like a movie, as he did the only thing he could do to save his own sanity.

He thought back on all the moments of genuine friendship they once had between them, inwardly smiling at the softest of them. He remembered all the times they had gone out drinking, laughing the night away and getting completely wasted. He remembered all the battles they had fought, together on the same side, guarding each other’s backs and keeping each other safe. He remembered all the tender touches that passed between them, every time Alastor touched his shoulder or lifted his chin or rested his hand on top of his. He could still feel the warmth of it even now.

He was one of the few people privileged enough to see Alastor genuinely smile, or the time when he let Vox feel one of his ears, their softness and fluff were closer to killing him than any of Alastor's hits had ever been. The first time he had heard his laugh he had nearly fainted, the blush that crept up his neck at seeing his eyes crinkling from the sincerity and turning into half-moons had been strong enough to fry all his circuits. He was a marvel and Vox would have done anything to be near him, to breathe the same air, to share the same space.

He thought of Alastor’s red eyes, not the current radio dials that only held hate in them, but of the gentle ones that used to gaze at him with fondness and care. Stunningly sinister, like an unearthly river of blood unlike anything that could be seen in this world, capable of crumbling Vox to pieces whenever they dared to land on him and grace him with their attention.

He ran through all of those precious memories while he still could. He was going to treasure the image of those eyes before it was ripped away and replaced with something horrid.

It was practically habitual for Vox to brace himself for an attack at this point, yet it didn’t stop him from violently flinching when a mass of shadow materialized out of the radio on his nightstand.

It’s speed was staggering and Vox instinctively raised his hands in a futile attempt to protect himself. He closed his eyes anticipating the excruaciating pain it was going to deliver and felt it wrap itself around him.

He waited for the agony to hit.

…

…

…

It never came.

Several seconds passed that felt like an eternity. The air was thick with tension, the only sound to be heard was his heavy breathing.

Confused, he opened his eyes to see what had happened when his gaze fell upon the dark shadow that had latched itself across his torso.

He blinked up at Alastor and was met with the same puzzled expression that was no doubt shown on Vox’s face as well.

Alastor spoke, voice dangerously low, static raking across the whole room. “Move.”

A quiet hiss responded.

It took Vox a moment to realize he wasn’t speaking to him. The sound came from the shadow draped over his body. This did nothing to diminish his perplexity, on the contrary the development and Alastor’s statement left him even more baffled. Nothing about this made sense.

He took another long look at the shadow, and his mind reeled when he realized what it was.

It wasn’t just a shadow. It was Alastor’s shadow.

It was Alastor’s shadow that had glued itself to his form, arms tightly circling his upper body as though its life depended on it, ignoring its owner’s command and shielding Vox from the threat above.

It was protecting him.

A painfully tense silence fell upon the room. He stared at Alastor with pure, unbridled bewilderment. Vox had seen his abilities first hand and he had never seen his shadow disobey him.

He couldn’t speak, he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Either Alastor was playing the long game and moving chess pieces Vox had no chance of understanding, or the interaction was genuine, but for the latter to happen there had to be something much, much deeper going on.

Vox didn’t know everything about how Alastor’s powers worked, but he knew at least that his shadow was an extension of himself. It reflected his thoughts and feelings, experienced the same emotions he did, felt the same pain Alastor would feel.

And right now it was risking everything by trying to shield Vox from him.

It reflected his thoughts and feelings.

It experienced the same emotions he did.

Understanding struck him in his very soul and Vox reeled back with a choked gasp.

His mind was spinning. Reality was turning in on itself as his whole world collapsed.

No, it can’t possibly be what he was thinking.

He must be reading the situation wrong. He raked his gaze between the shadow and Alastor’s face trying to discern a lie or any hint that would indicate this is part of some con. He knew his expressions like the back of his hand, despite the false smile he kept up to prevent exactly that from happening, and all he could read in them was shock and rage.

Unfortunately, Alastor also knew Vox’s expressions very well and he pinpointed exactly what was going through his mind.

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, Alastor grabbed the shadow’s tail “I said,” his voice was gravely as if it was lacerating his vocal chords, and with an imperious shout yanked his shadow away from Vox. “get back!”

The shadow wailed, hands reaching for Vox as it was pulled off him and towards Alastor, uselessly clawing at the floor as it tried to resist him.

When it was finally in his grasp, Alastor grabbed it by the throat and ruthlessly slammed it on the floor, cracking the tiles. The force elicited a keening cry from his shadow.

“I told you to stay and watch the hotel. When I tell you to do something, you obey!”

Vox could only stare in horror.

The shadow was flailing in his undoubtedly vice like grip. There was no way Alastor did not feel that as well. The shadow was him. If it was feeling that much pain then so was he. Vox had never seen him lose his composure this drastically, nor had he for that matter witnessed his shadow do the same thing.

It was a wretched sight. His mind was running faster than he could process his thoughts as he realized, looking back, he had never actually seen Alastor use his shadow against him. He had attested to its savage ferocity when he had been fighting with Alastor or when the demon was fighting other people, but he had never seen the shadow’s presence during one of their fights. Almost as if Alastor had been purposely keeping it away.

He felt bile rise up in his throat as he realized in all his years of knowing Alastor, his shadow had never hurt him.

Not once.

That meant…

Alastor violently threw his shadow against the wall and it crumpled down into a miserable heap with an expression consisting of sheer desolation and torment.

Vox’s breath left his lungs when Alastor sharply turned his attention back to him once again, eyes maniacal, body ready to pounce.

He felt his blood run even colder as the demon descended on him, inhumanly fast. His claws were only centimeters away from slashing at Vox when a sudden scream escaped him, causing him to abruptly veer away.

He staggered back, body twisting at crooked angles and elongating, making him seem even more imposing than before. Vox followed his gaze to the blotch of shadow that had latched itself onto his back, tearing Alastor’s hand away, before releasing its owner and slithering towards Vox, once again clutching tightly to his body as though it could fuse with it if it held strongly enough.

He didn’t know what to do.

There was nothing he could do but watch this horrible spectacle. Here he was, caught in a gruesome fight between a monster and his own shadow.

His whole body started to tremble uncontrollably and he felt his eyes watering.

The only thing keeping him tethered was the frail entity that was embracing him, hiding its face in the crook of his neck, petrified of the demon threatening to rip them both to shreds but still refusing to let go.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he did the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that he was capable of in his predicament. If he was wrong about his assumption then so be it, Alastor would strike him down either way. He was willing to take his chance because no matter the consequences that would follow, he will at least know the answer.

Vox grit his teeth and closed his eyes, refusing to look at the wild, crazed being in front of him that was going to tear him apart in a few seconds as he wrapped his own arms around the shadow and turned it away from Alastor.

He was completely vulnerable and exposed for an attack in this position, yet he held it tightly, trying to return the small piece of comfort that it sacrificed for him and was rewarded with a quiet chirp.

They both clung desperately to each other. Vox refused to acknowledge the horrifying reality of the outside world. The room had ceased to exist as he imagined himself somewhere safe, trying to tune out the nightmare he was living.

He vaguely wondered why he was still standing. A whole minute had certainly passed since he made his decision and yet he was still breathing, there wasn’t a scratch on him. He lifted his head from where it was buried in an attempt to protect both the shadow and himself, and turned it back towards Alastor.

Something broke between them when their eyes connected.

Vox was now looking at Alastor’s eyes, not his radio dials. He had reverted back to his usual form and was standing only a few meters away from both of them, but what really struck Vox, or more accurately, caused his heart to shatter, were the tears in the demon’s eyes.

“Al…?” The shaking in his voice caused him to break off.

Alastor averted his gaze, a tragically desolate expression on his face. He seemed… defeated.

Never before had Vox seen that word even associated with Alastor. It felt like looking at something forbidden, as though Vox was witnessing something he shouldn’t.

“I… can’t do it.”

Vox didn’t expect Alastor’s voice to sound so debilitated when he spoke. The demon was looking at the ground, pointedly avoiding Vox’s gaze.

He started to back up.

When Vox reached a hand to stop him, to find some explanation for what was going on, Alastor only retracted further.

The shadows surrounding them were writhing as Alastor put his head in his hands, the precious hair only moments from being ripped away by the fierce grip he had on it in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

If there was something Alastor detested, it was losing control.

It was painful looking at him in this state, at how wretchedly he fought his own thoughts. Vox took another step forward, still holding the shadow in his arms.

“You never said anything.” Vox knew what he was referring to. Alastor knew what he was referring to. There was no denying it anymore, they had both witnessed what had just transpired. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?!”

He couldn’t control his outburst, he couldn’t control the anger he felt at knowing all these years spent in misery and loneliness could have been different. He was almost furious at Alastor for denying what he so obviously felt.

“Don’t-!”

The answer didn’t suffice for Vox. No matter how much agony Alastor was going through right now, Vox deserved an explanation for all the pain, all the suffering, all the unhappiness that had plagued him for so long.

“Why won’t you say it?! Why won’t you admit that you feel the same wa-“

“Because it’s not the same!”

There weren’t many instances where Vox was left speechless, but this would definitely go down as one of them. Neither of them said anything. Vox was scrambling to pick up the pieces the other was throwing at him, pathetically trying to catch what he’s been chasing for so long, while Alastor was trying to calm his breathing.

His ears were pressed back, it was plain as day that he was holding back sobs, but Vox didn’t rush him. Pushing down his own agitation and need for the truth, Vox gave him time to collect himself enough to speak.

He took long deep breaths, eyes open in an attempt to keep them dry. The shadows around them slowly began to recede.

When the all-consuming feeling that had overtaken him finally quenched, Alastor looked up and made his way over to Vox, closing the small distance that had been left between them, and extended a hand toward his shadow.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” He stroked it gently, getting it to stir. “You can let go now.”

Sensing the danger being alleviated, the shadow uncoiled itself from Vox and took Alastor's arm, resuming its regular position behind his shoulder, still looking fondly at Vox as though it was skeptical of its choice to leave him.

Alastor didn’t look at him. Instead, he straightened up, and with a tired sigh began to speak.

“I wasn’t always like this. It’s hard to believe, but I used to want companionship, especially when I was still human. But, the world taught me enough for me to know I will never have it unless I sacrifice what I can’t give. I tried playing by those rules, I tried pretending I felt those romantic and physical inclinations, but no matter how much I forced myself to give what I didn’t possess it always ended the same way. With disappointment.”

Vox opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by Alastor raising a hand up, a clear sign to let him continue uninterrupted.

“I knew there was something wrong with me, I’ve had countless other people, doctors, psychiatrists confirm those suspicions. I was told repeatedly that I have a dysfunction, that I’m… inhibited. It seemed I was born rotten, lacking humanity in every piece of my being. But, that didn’t stop me from hoping there was someone out there who would look past it, because to my ears it didn’t sound like a bad thing, on the contrary it allowed me to refrain from life’s temptations and rise above such trivial matters. All I wished for was someone to be with me when I finally ascended to the top. They didn’t even have to be like me, I knew the chances of that were low, I just wished for someone who would understand.”

His voice grew shaky and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

“That person unconsciously took a part in my life. I started to imagine them near when I was in need, holding my hand. I used to dream about them almost every night before I went to sleep, alone. I wondered what their favorite flower, or dish, or favorite song would be and I imagined myself finding out when I finally met them. Oh, how I desperately needed them. How I prayed for someone who would know every part of me and not turn away in fear. For someone who wouldn’t dangle what I so miserably craved and demand what I couldn’t give. For someone who wouldn’t shame me for not being able to.

They didn’t exist and I would have done anything for them. There was a faint shadow following me everywhere I went, waiting for someone to fill it. I didn’t know who they were, they didn’t even have a face, how could they, I had never met anyone of their likeness before, but their presence was tangible, a painful reminder that there was something missing that would never be found.”

His face contorted in pain and he turned to Vox.

“So, imagine the mess that was my twisted mind when I met you.”

Vox didn’t say anything, he was stuck on the brink of falling to his own demise from sheer frustration alone.

“Imagine the hope that took my heart hostage and refused to let it go whenever I was near you. I tried to free myself of its clutches but it became increasingly difficult with every moment I spent in your presence. I could almost see you filling that empty spot that had made itself a constant in my life. I started to picture your face in its place. Slowly, that figure started to resemble someone I held more dear than anyone before. You became the shoulder I could lean on, the person I could trust with my life without ever having to doubt your loyalty. Despite my better wishes, you became who I needed.”

He let a few seconds pass before he choked out.

“I knew you, and I loved you before I ever even met you.”

In that moment time itself stopped.

It felt as though the world had ceased its spinning. Everything around them echoed the words that were just uttered into the open.

I loved you.

The sentence played over in his head, reaching the deepest corners of his mind and making sure every inch of his consciousness heard it as tears started to border the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill.

I loved you.

There was no melody, no song more overwhelming, more powerful, more deathless than Alastor’s voice saying those words. No matter how many times Vox dreamed of them, how many times he imagined them in his head it didn’t even compare to the reality of actually hearing them. He briefly wondered whether this was one of his dreams. Had he fallen so low that dreams and reality were indistinguishable? But, the shaking in his limbs, the breaths he found even more difficult to inhale through his constricted throat with every passing minute, the despondent look on Alastor’s face that his own imagination could never be able to conjure were enough proof to convince him this was real.

I loved you.

He stared in awe and shock, the revelation left him gawking unblinkingly at Alastor, mouth agape and body so tense he though his muscles would give out from the force he was exuding at keeping himself from crumbling.

This was actually happening.

Alastor had said the words.

“But, I made one critical, foolish mistake… I forgot we live in Hell.”

Vox couldn’t think. Every sentence that Alastor was saying sent his mind spiraling and tipping the precipice between hope and sorrow so strong no grief ever experienced could match it.

“I noticed you developing feelings. Feelings I so desperately wanted to prevent from surfacing. And I knew the exact nature of them, considering the unsavory company you keep. Ultimately, my futile attempts at squashing them only made the betrayal worse. You knew perfectly well I wasn’t capable of reciprocating, yet you still proceeded anyway. Never before in my life had I felt such disappointment, not at you of course, you can’t control them, but at myself for ever letting you carve a permanent place in my soul.”

Once more Vox tried to speak up, despite not being capable of forming a single comprehensible thought, but another look from Alastor had him backing down again.

“So, when you left there was an empty canyon there. I never intended for our relationship to end that way, I just needed you to stop. When you saw I wasn’t reacting the way you had hoped you became more desperate, more adamant. You started implying your own version of love and alluding to things that made me nauseous to even picture. Every word you said tore pieces of that lovely dream away. All I wanted was for you to stop. When I tried to explain my side of things the next time we met, you attacked me. I never even managed to speak a word.”

Vox vividly remembered the following week after he had pulled himself into some semblance of a functional being and how he had retaliated at Alastor the first chance he got. He had been so full of anger that he never asked to hear his side of the story.

Vox felt sick to his stomach at the realization that all of it could have been avoided if he had just listened.

“I never wanted to hurt you, but how could I even begin to explain the disgust and revulsion I felt at your confession after I found out what I already suspected, that you harbored those same romantic, superficial, fleeting feelings towards me, when what I felt for you was stronger than the hottest fires in all of Hell.”

He didn’t dare say anything to interrupt him now, not trusting his own voice from betraying the anguish that seeped into his veins like ink in water.

Alastor briefly closed his eyes, a forlorn look overtook him when he opened them again.

“We could have been everything. We could have been a power unlike any the world had ever seen. Partners, fighting side by side. Our bond would have transcended the constrictions the universe has set, and if the universe refused to obey I would have screamed our names into its void so that every star knew who we were. I would have carved our names into every pebble, every nook and crevice, every leaf so that the wind would carry it far, far away until every soul in existence learned to tremble at the mere mention of them.”

Vox wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and yell, but he couldn’t utter a word. His ears started to painfully ring and the world fell into a dizzy haze as all he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat and Alastor speaking.

“You would have been my person, Vox. What I felt for you could have broken Heaven’s definition of love should they ever catch even an inkling of it. I would have pulled Heaven down to give to you on a silver platter so that the world would have nothing to look up to except the constellations dancing in honor and fear of us.”

There was no power in Heaven or in Hell capable of holding back the dam that the splendor and beauty in Alastor’s unconstrained words released. Vox covered his mouth, unable to stop the sob that wretched itself out of his throat as the tears started to flow freely down his face, too heavy for his weary, fractured mind to cradle any longer.

“…but, that wasn’t enough for you.”

Silence stretched across the room once more, the only sound to be heard was Vox’s unsuccessful attempts to stifle down his crying. Here he was, one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell, being wracked with sobs caused naught but by Alastor’s bewitching, unearthly words.

He was right. If Heaven was listening to him, they would have already lost their minds. Even as someone as cunning and quick-witted as The Radio Demon wasn’t capable of faking such heart-wrenching sincerity. Even the most talented authors, the most provocative poets, lacked the talent to string together words like droplets following a waterfall to even resemble the magnitude of allure Alastor had planted into his confession. If Vox could surrender himself to that waterfall and be swept away by its beguiling waters, he would have. He wanted to drown repeatedly in the array of wonderful declarations that it consisted of and he would have let it take him anywhere as long as it upheld its promise to refill his lungs over and over with its divinity.

“I-I didn’t know.” His attempt at speaking fell short almost as though his constricting heart was confiscating the words right out of his throat. “Alastor, I thought you- I had no idea.”

Alastor merely clicked his tongue. “Yes, well… It’s in the past now.”

Vox looked up and found Alastor turned away from him, though not enough to hide the tear that rolled down his cheek, twinkling as it reflected the light.

Something even more dreadful crept up in him at Alastor’s words. Something far more horrid than any pain or agony he could have experienced. He let out a breathy exhale as what were merely whispers before, were now vice like grips around his will after Alastor’s confession of hope itself clawing out of its grave. He could almost physically feel it shifting in his very core, its hair a mess, nose broken, face bloody, bones fractured as it sunk it’s fingers in him and used the newly inflicted wounds to dig its way out of the deep pit he had thrown it in so long ago. It wasn’t the frail, delicate thing he thought it was. Vox had beaten it, he had killed it, and then he had buried it so it would never be allowed to resurface again and cloud his better judgement. Yet, it was still alive, kicking and screaming.

He flicked his attention between isolation worse than any torture and that stubborn, formidable hope that practically carried him out of the clutches of his own destruction.

He approached Alastor, slowly, not wanting to cause him any alarm.

“Al.” He whispered. The demon kept his face turned away from him. “Look at me.”

When Alastor still didn’t acknowledge him, Vox tried again.

“Alastor, look at me.” He gently took his hand, his own fingers skimming across it’s surface, giving him space to retract it if he needed to. “Please, look at me.”

He reluctantly did so, revealing the glassy eyes he tried to hide from Vox. He didn’t mention it, relieved that he got Alastor’s attention.

He took a deep breath, he didn’t know what he was going to say but he still tried to find the words, not risking the chance of Alastor pulling away from him for good.

“If… I had known how uncomfortable the things I said made you, then-“ but he was quickly cut off with a scoff.

“That’s beside the point, my dear. What matters is that you developed those feelings. It’s about feeling them in the first place, whether you acted on them or not is unimportant. And while your hypnosis might not work on me, the possibility of you attempting to… coerce me or play on my guilt in the future was still on the table.”

He tried to pull his hand away, but Vox reached for it once again. This time holding firm.

“No, Al listen. Just listen and let me speak.”

With a sigh Alastor relented, his doubt visible with every twitch and movement. His certainty that Vox wouldn’t be able to persuade him caused anxiety to bubble up in his gut.

“It is true that I experience romantic and sexual feelings and engage in them, I won’t deny it. So as someone who regularly goes through it believe me when I say,” He looked straight into Alastor’s eyes “they mean nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

Alastor didn’t appear convinced, but he didn’t pull away. Vox took that as his cue to continue.

“Yes, I am attracted to you. If I could choose not to be I would have done it a thousand times over. But, that attraction holds no weight to the affection that I still carry for you. I meant what I said before, I would die for you. And tamping down my urges is nothing compared to what I now know you were prepared to give me in return.”

He squeezed Alastor’s hand. He couldn’t exactly relate to him, but he would try his best to understand him. To be the person Alastor needed him to be.

“On some level, I think I understand. I know what it’s like to not conform to everyone’s expectations and be seen as… lacking.” He drew from his own experiences to try to better connect to Alastor as he let go of his hand and moved his own hands, palms up, in a horizontal maneuver along the middle of his chest where the two identical scars from his surgery were. “I know what it’s like to be forced to hide yourself, and I would never wish it on you. Because there isn’t and never has been anything wrong in you that needs fixing.”

He knows the feeling of being broken all too well. He knows what it’s like to have everyone he loves be on a cliffs edge of leaving him if they ever found out who he really was. To know their love is conditional and only given if he performs how they expect him to. He felt an all too familiar wave of disgust and shame pool into his gut at the very image of having a partner be aware of his true self and still force him to hide and take on the role of a woman. To be pressured into being someone else, to have someone else’s voice, to have someone else’s face cover his own, and worst of all to shut his mouth and take it because he knew everyone else preferred her over him.

Alastor’s eyes widened in remembrance. Vox had told him all of this decades ago, therefore he knew the weight his words held in them. His body had somewhat relaxed after Vox pointed out this part of himself, as though finding comfort in the shared experience.

“God, you have painted yourself as a permanent picture in my mind. I can’t think properly without you, I can’t breathe when you’re not around. Every time I see you on camera I lose touch of what’s important. All of my relationships have been romantic or physical and they all either ended or didn’t amount to anything, because none of those people were you. Al, you have to know I don’t need you to sacrifice anything for me. Even the slightest touch you give me is driving me fucking insane. And- I’m sorry that I made you believe this, but I wouldn’t try to convince you in any way to do those things if you’re unwilling.”

If it were any other person, Vox wouldn’t have such reservations. The words felt foreign on his tongue, but their truthfulness didn’t lessen.

It still felt as though his sentiments were insufficient, perhaps it was due to Alastor speaking before him and delivering one of the most stunning declarations of love he had ever heard in his life.

Though, there was one thing he could still do for him as the need to show him he felt the same became increasingly overbearing.

Alastor had always held people who presented themselves as indomitable and unyielding with a high honor, while people who easily surrendered or were incapable of emotional restraint he saw as lesser. Vox knew this, yet, it was the exact reason Alastor had always vied to be the one in control of the situation as it made him feel more poised and confident. Therefore, he had to choose between the two.

He might not be as eloquent as Alastor, so he didn’t use his words to voice his dedication to him. He had always been a more visual person, anyway. Vox looked straight into his eyes as he slowly got down on his knees in front of him.

His eyebrows creased in confusion as he looked Vox up and down, surprise spreading across his features.

Vox didn’t break eye contact for even a second.

“Do you think I would do this for anyone else?”

Having sensed it wasn’t a rhetorical question, Alastor answered. “No.”

His stomach fluttered at both the prospect of Alastor thinking so highly of him and at having pushed aside their petty arguing. Vox smiled, a genuine affectionate smile.

“No.” he confirmed “I’m not doing this out of fear or desperation, I think I won’t feel those things towards you for quite some time. You can hurt me, stab me, flay my fucking skin off and I will still look at you like I am now, with respect and adoration. I would gladly kneel before you if that’s what you want, I would take any injury you wish to inflict on me with a contented heart, I would let you carve it out if that’s what it takes to convince you you’re more than anything I could ever dream of and that there’s nothing I demand that you’re not willing to give.”

Alastor’s gaze was fixed on him, his eyes darting between Vox’s as his monitor bathed the other in a warm, blue light and all Vox could think about was how magnificent he looked from this perspective. It felt right, almost as if he was meant to be looking at Alastor like this the entire time. For some reason, he wouldn’t mind being subjected to that fate, not one bit.

Alastor brought his hand up and rested it on the side of Vox’s screen, gently cupping it and caressing his cheek with his thumb in soft movements. He leant into the touch and he could have melted right then and there from the warmth of Alastor’s hand. His heart started beating even faster, his ribs reverberating the sound and spreading it through his bones at the realization that he was getting everything he had wished for for decades.

“It’s not fair. Why should you sacrifice something for me when I’m not willing to do the same in return?”

Vox pressed his face further into Alastor’s hand and closed his eyes from fear of seeing it get retracted.

“No. That’s not how it works. You’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to and you’re not depriving me of anything I can’t get from five minutes with Val or Velvette.”

Relieved when Alastor didn’t pull his hand back, Vox opened his eyes and stared directly at him, daring him to dispute his argument.

Alastor didn’t say anything. He only looked at him with a disbelieving, fond gaze, the softness of it extinguishing any awkwardness that permeated the air as silence stretched between them once more. Comfortable, relaxing silence. Alastor only continued caressing his face, no doubt feeling the calming effect the touch had on Vox as well.

Vox chased that feeling and nuzzled his screen even deeper. Desperate for more contact he brought his own hand up and slowly wrapped it around Alastor’s wrist, feeling his pulse and trying to bring him even closer. He didn’t want to overstep, not yet sure how much Alastor was comfortable with, so he settled on this.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes, Vox gently sliding his fingers across his skin, as though scouting every inch of it, not wanting to leave any area of his arm untouched, and Alastor tenderly caressing his face.

He vaguely noticed his body had relaxed as well, his breathing was even and his heart didn’t threaten to burst out of his chest anymore but had taken a slow, steady rhythm. Vox almost didn’t hear when Alastor spoke again.

“You may come closer if you wish.”

Vox looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. His vision was slightly more blurry but he could see clearly enough to know Alastor had stepped closer to him. It took him a moment to comprehend the words and he jolted at the opportunity that was presented to him.

Still gazing at Alastor, waiting too see any sign that he wanted Vox to stop, he slowly rested his hands on the demon’s thighs, just above his knees, careful to not close him in too much. Not wanting to seem too eager, he let a few moments pass before bowing his head and leaning it on Alastor’s abdomen. They had never been this close before and Vox couldn’t remember the last time they had shared genuine affection let alone been this intimate.

He wasn’t going to ruin the slowly rekindling flames of their relationship, he didn’t dare step on the seedling that started to sprout as the care they once had between them started to bloom once more. He had been given wings again, strong ones he could use to lift himself off the ground and fly up towards the freedom the sky had to offer. Wings that stored all of Heaven’s mercy in them and allowed him to greet the sun every time he put them to use.

Long ago, they had given him the liberty to fly close to it, to revel in it’s warmth and to bathe in it’s light. There was no one else in existence who had been privileged enough with them, there was no one else alive or dead who had the fortune of feeling the sun’s beams fall on their face from so close. Vox had been its friend for a long time, while it was isolating to be so far from everyone below, the connection with it was more precious than anything the earth had to offer.

Unfortunately, he had flown too high. His greed had sent him soaring too high up into the sky and he had gotten burned. While the star in all its majesty was life-giving, wonderous and breathtaking it was also dangerous, wild and unpredictable. Blinded by his self-serving desire to bask in its warmth, Vox had heedlessly ventured too close to it and he had gotten scorched, unaware of the power its light possessed that shined so brightly it set his feathers on fire and caused his wings to melt. He had plummeted to the ground, hitting it so hard he could still feel the crater his fall had left deep in his soul. He had so arrogantly risked his chance of being one with the sun that he failed to see it shined alone, his thoughtlessness relegating him to the earth along with all the common people who had never known the feeling of the sun’s gentle caress. To the trees and rivers, which no matter how hard he tried to see the beauty in they could never compare to the heat of the sun that kindled his skin with tenderness and affection.

He didn’t dare make that same mistake again.

When Alastor didn’t pull away, Vox allowed himself to sag, his hold on the other was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. He closed his eyes and let himself fully bask in the feeling of being so close to Alastor. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, gently squeezing them every now and then. He could feel Alastor’s breathing from where he rested his head, the soft movements a comforting reminder that he was okay, that he was safe, that he was alive.

He was holding the sun in his hands. The intimacy could have caused him to explode from sheer happiness alone and yet it didn’t feel sexual. Not even remotely. Despite their positions, all Vox could feel was affection and dedicated adoration for the other. He could understand what Alastor had been referring to earlier.

He started to lean more heavily on Alastor, his body being the only reason Vox hadn’t tipped over from the numbing sensation that spread through his whole body, dulling his muscles and turning his brain into jelly. The all-encompassing feeling only increased when Alastor settled one of his hands on the back of Vox’s neck, the warmth of it piercing straight to his nervous system and causing him to press even further into him.

“Oh, Vox.”

Alastor sighed quietly and brought his other hand to the back of Vox’s head which was now almost fully buried in his shirt, desperate to get as close to him as he could. Both of them clung to each other as they wanted to hold the other as tight as was physically possible. Vox’s whole body felt immobilized, his mind was blissfully quiet as the storm of thoughts and feelings that pillaged it for so long quelled into a gentle breeze. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself from toppling to the floor if Alastor decided to step away.

The dulling effect didn’t fade when the demon started to glide his palm across his upper back, though still mostly keeping it on Vox’s neck. It was both exhilarating and mind numbing to know he was powerless to stop Alastor should he decide to sink those gentle hands, that were so well acquainted with ripping and tearing flesh, into his neck and eliminate him right on the spot, the complicated, intoxicating mixture of feelings was only intensified by the knowledge that he was simply choosing not to. That Alastor was enjoying this just as much as Vox. That he could hurt him but instead was embracing him by his own volition and that he wanted to hold Vox so tightly.

The rest of the world was stifled down as all of Vox’s desensitized attention was stolen by the demon in his hold. The slow, soft touches threatened to crumble his already weakened form and he let out a soft moan. Suddenly, all of the exhaustion accumulated from before weighed down on his consciousness as the stress and anxiety alleviated, leaving in their place only the feeling of Alastor’s soothing ministrations that permanently rooted themselves in Vox’s memories.

He vaguely recognized his hands had fallen to the ground, not having the strength to hold them upright as the other kept his body from falling, letting all his weight lean on him. Alastor’s light-feather touches brushed over the ports at the back of his head and Vox nearly passed out when the demon let a small burst of static through them. He couldn’t stop the soft noises he made as Alastor repeated the motion several more times, the waves buried themselves in the core of Vox’s mind and sent him spiraling.

Minutes or even hours could have passed, his perception of time was completely lost. He could no longer sense anything, his vision started to dim, any sound that reached his ears easily dissolved from his inability to process it, touch was a foreign, lost notion as he could feel nothing and everything at once.

He was flying again. The wind caressed his face and held his wings steady as he looked up. He was greeted by an old friend, one so bright it outshone every other star in the sky, it’s flames danced softly, as though it was waving at him. The world below didn’t exist as he soared through the clouds that welcomed him with familiar, open arms. He was more than happy to never reach the ground again and instead relish in the beams the sun sent to him once more.

Through the haze of touch, warmth, light beams and clouds Vox faintly felt someone moving him. He didn’t even know where he was, his sense of direction askew, but he knew their hands were gentle. The feeling of their touch lingered on his back and below his knees, the person’s movements slowly jostling him to wakefulness.

He didn’t want to part with this lovely dream where he could sway with the sun, but he knew a different dream awaited him, far better than this one.

He blinked his eyes open, vision groggy from that half-asleep state that he had plunged himself in, and he smiled as they landed on the red figure that was sitting next to him.

Slowly, he got his bearings together and he noticed that he was once more lying on his bed. Alastor had deposited him on the soft mattress, placed back his pillow and had situated himself next to Vox.

The Radio Demon smiled back, not his usual emotionless, firmly-plastered, menacing smile, but a soft grin that affected his eyes as well which were gleaming with a far-away look to them. Vox wondered if Alastor was left just as senseless as he was and that thought jumped happily across his bones like they were skipping rocks.

“Welcome back, dear.”

His staticky voice felt like angelic harmonies to Vox’s ears. He wanted to reply, but all he managed to say was “Hmmgh.”

Alastor merely chuckled, the sound of it so sweet and delightful it nearly sent Vox careening. This was the first time he had heard him laugh this genuinely in a long while. He could do nothing but stare at Alastor in wonder.

“Take your time. You must be exhausted.”

“Mmpf.”

Alastor gently stroked his screen and Vox wasn’t sure if it was his intention to help him wake or to lull him to sleep.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.”

“Mmgh.”

Alastor only smiled further. He gazed at Vox with distant eyes that blinked slowly and dreamily. Then he averted his gaze to Vox’s body and his smile dimmed.

He felt his heart jump and his own brows creased in worry.

“What’s wrong?”

The demon returned his gaze to him which held what Vox’s could deduce as sadness, maybe guilt.

Before he could voice his concern, Alastor flicked his hand and strips of gauze, antiseptics and bandages appeared on the nightstand. He lifted Vox’s arm to bring it closer before he picked them up and set to work.

Vox wasn’t sure what was happening but a brief look at his palm reminded him of the gash he received during their earlier fight, when he grabbed the table to keep himself from falling.

He blinked in surprise at his own lack of perception. The pain hadn’t even registered in his mind, the fear, panic, reality-whiplash and excitement had dulled it out, but now he could see it plain as day. The cut wasn’t deep and thankfully no longer bled, still, it had covered his whole arm in blood, staining the cuff red.

The sheets were also blemished from where he had been sitting earlier. Clarity seeped into his mind as it now started registering the throbbing pain in his hand. His body was sore too, tender from where he had fallen and his knees ached from kneeling on the hard floor for so long. With the blood and the many tiles that had gotten broken it was safe to say they really had made a mess.

He spared a look at Alastor’s clothes, only now noticing he had gotten blood on them as well.

“Sorry. I didn’t notice it.”

Alastor tracked his gaze to his own bloodied clothes and swiftly waved off his apology. “Not to worry, I think your blood looks quite good on me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He knew Alastor was only trying to lessen his concern, but it didn’t stop his breath from hitching as a sudden blush snuck onto his screen. For all the care and gentleness he had displayed this night it was easy to forget that Alastor was a cannibal and a murderer.

For some reason that made his heart flutter even more. The idea that Alastor was choosing to treat him so tenderly and so softly when he could be doing the opposite was sending his systems on fire again.

It didn’t help calm his nerves when Alastor started disinfecting and bandaging his wound, his hands experienced and his movements precise. Vox could fret over the damn clothes later, right now all of his focus was directed on the demon who was treating him with such care he never thought he’d experience in his afterlife.

Alastor tucked the loose strip of gauze when he finished wrapping it around his hand. Vox started to get up to wash the blood when Alastor gripped his arm and brought it to his mouth before opening it and letting his tongue smoothly glide across Vox’s skin.

He couldn’t stop the breath that escaped him and left his lungs devoid of air as Alastor started to explore his arm with his mouth, the warmth of it irresistible as he lapped up the blood, gently scraping his teeth across his skin at the places where it had dried up, their sharp edges lightly brushing the surface.

Soft purrs escaped him and Alastor closed his eyes as he undoubtedly relished in the taste, his movements becoming more vigorous as his hunger rose. Yet, he didn’t bite down. On the contrary, even while lost in his daze he was so careful not to accidentally cut into Vox’s flesh.

When he finished with his arm he directed his attention to his hand, sliding his tongue between his fingers and coiling it around them as he occasionally nipped and mouthed at the skin.

It was the hottest thing Vox had ever seen.

“Now, you’re just being cruel.” he exclaimed breathlessly.

The demon opened his eyes to look at him, pupils dilated, completely lost in the taste. He didn’t say anything, only smiled wider. A devious, wicked smile that informed Vox he was perfectly aware of what he was doing.

He gulped when Alastor closed his mouth over the soft flesh of his palm harder than before, his teeth pricking like needles, moments away from piercing his skin.

Alastor lingered like that for a while, eyes closed and content with simply feeling the other at his mercy and knowing he would let him tear his hand if he so wished.

“You can take more if you want.” his voice was quiet, tipping between fear and the electrifying thrill overtaking him.

His willingness was rewarded with a soft gasp from the other whose breaths grew even more desperate. Vox could feel his resolve wavering, as though he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth in, but he refrained.

The strength he summoned to pull away was almost visceral as he straightened up and drew a napkin to clean up Vox’s hand who had half a mind to tell him not to.

“I’ll keep that in mind for another time. It seems careless to drain you of all your blood so soon.”

His heart leapt at the prospect of another time.

“It runs only for you.”

It was the truth. Seeing how energized Alastor had become after he’d tasted his blood, Vox would have surrendered all of it to him. He only grew bolder at the mellow expression, which barely concealed Alastor’s hunger, that spread through every feature on his face at Vox’s statement and he grinned. “I mean, you might not get the chance again.”

“We both know perfectly well that isn’t true.” he piped back lightheartedly, as he continued wiping his hand clean.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I said it.”

Alastor squeezed his hand and let it settle back on the mattress but not before laying a firm, yet soft kiss on the back of it. He looked at Vox for a long moment before placing his hand once more on his cheek. Vox leaned into the touch, sinking even further into the bed from the loving caress. He wondered if Alastor was so affectionate because he missed his old design and was exploring the new one or because he had been abstaining from indulging in the fond touches for so long.

He already missed the warmth when Alastor drew his hand back. The demon sat up and Vox painstakingly realized he was preparing to leave. The room suddenly felt cold and empty as Alastor made his way to the small radio, intending to use it to teleport his way back.

Without thinking, Vox grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. Alastor looked down at him.

“Stay.”

He knew the chances of dissuading the other once he had already made up his mind were low, but he couldn’t let him go without trying. Not this time. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

His voice was barely a whisper and it bordered on pleading, but he didn’t care. Alastor stared at their joined hands, too long to preserve the fragile tranquility of Vox’s worn out mind. He could feel Alastor fighting with his feelings and attempting to rationalize them, his hesitation was clear on his face. Alastor flicked his gaze between him and the radio, doubt even more palpable as Vox refused to let go of his hand.

He looked at him with hope and longing, thinking somehow that would help persuade him to stay. His breath hitched when Alastor sighed, his eyes closing, having made up his mind.

“Damn it all.”

He placed his microphone on the bedside table and turned towards Vox. He poked him. “Scoot.”

Vox didn’t question it, instead impatiently wiggled back to give Alastor space.

Alastor climbed on the bed and laid down on his side, propping his head on his hand. Vox nearly scolded him for not at least taking off his coat, but he thought better of it.

The irony of the situation was hilarious. Vox had dreamt of getting Alastor in his bed for so long and yet he was lost on what to do now that he had him. A hundred percent of the time when there was someone in his bed the intentions were pretty clear and he maneuvered those rules with ease, but this was not one of those instances. The situation was still fresh, Vox didn’t know Alastor’s boundaries yet and what he was or wasn’t allowed to do.

He played with his fingers, speechless and avoiding eye contact, not having a clue what was going to happen next. Internally, he berated himself for being unable to collect his thoughts when Alastor sighed again and grabbed his arm. He used the hold to drag Vox, who had gotten as stiff as a board, closer to him.

They were so close now, their faces were only inches apart. The close proximity didn’t help dissipate the tension in Vox’s body, the earthy smell of pine and rain coming from Alastor's form caused him to shudder from the familiarity it evoked. The feeling of being so near to Alastor was surreal and Vox couldn’t tear his gaze away from his face.

Alastor picked one of Vox’s hands up and brought it close to his chest, practically cradling it. Vox could feel his pulse beneath his shirt and he could have combusted on the spot, his screen glitched and flickered for a few seconds before he got it under control with a will he wasn’t aware he possessed.

With his other hand Alastor stroked Vox’s upper arm. His face turned glum and he whispered.

“I didn’t intend for the situation to escalate to that extent.”

It took Vox a moment to understand what he meant. Alastor was gently, but firmly, massaging his arm, the one he nearly would have shredded if it weren’t for his shadow.

“In my defense, I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to refuse the deal.”

Vox brought his hand up to play with one of the buttons on Alastor’s shirt. “Aren’t you just overjoyed I was?” he replied sarcastically.

It was so easy to fall back to old habits, he had almost forgotten how effortless, playful and satisfactory their conversations were. They flowed as undisturbed as a river on a hot summer’s day and it was a joy to fall into it and let it sweep all the troubles away as if they had never happened.

Alastor shot him a glare, but he didn’t stay mad for long. “I won’t force the deal, but you need to promise me you won’t go anywhere near that hotel.” His voice held a serious tone and his gaze was unyielding as it pierced straight into Vox’s soul.

Oh.

Oh.

So that’s what all of this had been about. Affection blossomed in Vox’s chest at realizing Alastor’s intentions. He could practically feel the wingbeat sound of a thousand butterflies soaring out of his heart.

“I promise.” he kneaded his fingers in Alastor’s shirt, gently rubbing his knuckles against his stomach. “Are you safe, though?”

Alastor hummed at the question, tension easing out of his shoulders, before he replied “As can be.”

The answer failed to stamp out Vox's worry. Whatever mysterious scheme that hotel was a part of Alastor was reluctant to reveal. It irked him to no end, but he knew pushing the matter would only drive Alastor away.

“You will come to me if anything goes wrong, do you understand?”

He received a mischievous smirk in return. “My my, for all your fussing you’re still just as soft as I remember.”

Vox choked. “You’re one to talk.” he gestured incredulously to where Alastor was caressing his shoulder, trying to tamp down the heat that flushed his face.

Alastor simply raised an eyebrow, nonplussed by Vox’s accusation. He let his hand skim along Vox’s frame, his fingers dancing lazily across his skin, like they were just as tired, but still unwilling to let the night come to an end, as Vox felt. His hand traced across his arm making its way down his frame, slowly tapping and gently squeezing. When he reached Vox's hand he let his fingers lightly brush across the back of it, feeling its smooth surface and tracing gentle patterns across it.

“Is this too soft for you, my dear?” he teased, his voice almost completely devoid of static, quiet and soft, reflecting the calm intimacy they were sharing.

Vox didn’t say anything for fear that Alastor might cease his traversing. At his lack of conjuring a response Alastor only smiled wider.

He let his hand travel to Vox’s waist where it pressed flatly for a few seconds, letting the warmth of their bodies exchange, before it moved to his hip. He lifted Vox’s shirt and he could have sworn he felt the bed getting ready to swallow him whole as Alastor let his claws gently graze the skin of his hip bone then delicately pinch and nip at his flesh as he curiously explored his body.

“I could stop if it’s too much.” Alastor murmured, his taunting tone made even more sly by his smile stretching in a nefarious fashion.

“Don’t you dare.”

At his response, Alastor moved his hand over his thigh, mirroring Vox’s hold from earlier and gripped it a little more fiercely.

Throughout all of it, Vox only stared at him, engrossed, mouth open as his breathing picked up its pace once more, eyes shinning from amazement and disbelief. How Alastor managed to convey such tenderness through his touches without exiting any kind of arousal between either of them Vox couldn’t fathom. His own mind hadn’t even strayed on that path, perhaps Alastor’s confession had struck him deeper than he thought.

Alastor must have noticed. His hold was stronger than before, almost as a form of appreciation and gratitude, and Vox didn’t protest the possessive attitude it carried. Not when that same hand proceeded to repeat every motion again as it made its way back through the same path. Along the way Alastor made sure to stop at his chest and gently run a finger across the scars beneath his shirt and Vox could have screamed from the deliberate fondness, a sign that not only was Alastor aware of who he really was and what he had gone through but that he also accepted and loved him, not in spite of it, but because of it.

Vox couldn’t even begin to form words that would properly express how much he valued and adored this incredible man.

Whatever thought he did manage to conjure was quickly eradicated when Alastor’s hand briefly stopped to traipse the edge of his collar bone then advanced upwards and lightly wrapped around his neck. Vox softly gasped, the hold was loose enough for him to breathe but with enough applied pressure for him to be aware of it, to know it could easily tighten if Alastor wanted it to and Vox’s whole body quivered with the desire for him to fulfil that threat. He could feel the thumping of his heart against Alastor's hand which merely embraced his throat, his fingers gently brushing and mildly squeezing before he released it and made his way back to Vox’s face, where his hand stilled and lingered.

“Alastor…”

It was the only word that could do his emotions justice.

He wanted Alastor to run his hands over his whole body, to stroke, to caress, to take and to give, not knowing whether he could even handle the attention but yearning for it all the same. Feeling bold, he reached to grasp Alastor’s own hand in his and bring it to his lips, unable to deny his needy desire for the demon’s touch. He didn’t kiss it however, only held it to his face despite every cell in his body howling with the urge to do so.

Vox closed his eyes and let the feeling of Alastor’s soft hand spread against his lips as he brushed them across his knuckles, feeling every ridge and recess, the warmth of it setting all his nerves ablaze and igniting the ache in his chest to press them even closer like wildfire.

When he opened his eyes again he was nearly knocked out by the tenderness and endearment that radiated from Alastor’s gaze, leaving him flummoxed and brimming with happiness that it was directed at him. Alastor gingerly smiled when their eyes met and brought Vox’s hand to his own lips, kissing it gently before setting their clasped hands between them.

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them speaking, their inability to tear their eyes away from each other compensating for any missing conversation or unspoken sentence. The silence in the room was a welcome sensation for it carried the astronomical depth of their mutual feelings that words alone were ill-equipped to voice.

Once more, Vox wondered whether this was all another dream as it was the most plausible explanation for the presence and love of the most striking, resplendent and extraordinary person he had ever met. At some point in his life he must have done something right to deserve this.

Lost in his thoughts and adoration for the other he nearly didn’t notice the gentle tapping on the back of his hand. Vox looked down where their hands were interlocked and he saw Alastor’s hand had grown dark. No, not dark… veiled. Following the ghostly matter, his gaze moved along Alastor’s arm to his shoulder where it landed on a familiar face.

Alastor’s shadow, the being without whom none of this would have happened, was gently patting his hand and smiling behind Alastor’s back.

He acknowledged its contribution and did his best at thanking it with a sassy, but grateful wink. The shadow smiled wider and in return ran it’s wraithlike fingers across Vox’s hand. It’s touch was more exited and lively than Alastor’s and Vox matched it in equal, wiggling his fingers across its smoky palm.

Accepting the challenge, it perked up, using its index finger to surmount Vox’s efforts, his own finger stepping up its game as they locked in a wobbly, miniscule battle. Their fingers tapped and pushed at one another, playfully hooking and pressing and Vox didn’t even notice his shameless grin that stretched from ear to ear until his eyes landed on Alastor’s unimpressed look.

Realizing they’ve been caught, his smile never left as he sent the shadow a cheeky Oops expression at which it chuckled, quickly disappearing behind Alastor’s form.

Alastor merely shook his head, though unable to stop an amused smile from making itself visible on his face.

When he looked back at Vox his expression was peculiar, eyes slightly narrowed indicating he was mulling something over in his head. He blinked slowly before he closed the distance between their faces and nearly murdered Vox when he pressed their foreheads together.

Vox was grateful that Alastor had closed his eyes to let himself enjoy the sensation fully as he couldn’t see his screen buffer and his systems malfunction. He tried to suppress the fans in his head that started spinning uncontrollably as they tried to cool him down.

He attempted to cover his face with his hands to preserve some modicum of pride, careful not to push Alastor away as a furious blush reddened his whole screen. Errors and warnings started to pop up on his monitor. He tried to dismiss them as he wanted nothing more than to hold the demon as close as he could and at the same time try to collect himself in at least some pitiful version of a sentient human being.

“Ngh, fu-“ He glitched violently.

His resolve had been thinning for a while and now Alastor had taken a knife and sliced straight through that thin thread that was responsible for keeping his emotions under control. It was rather unfair as well, his soul had been left as barren as a desert for years and Alastor had come and planted a whole forest that Vox didn’t have the room or oxygen to keep it thriving.

“God dammit! Now yo-“ *glitch* “-u’ve done it!” *glitch*

Alastor only laughed.

He was pretty sure steam was coming out of the ports in his head and his screen was heating up despite his attempts to stabilize his systems.

“Mothe-“ *glitch* “-rfu-“ *glitch* “-cker!” *glitch*

Just when he thought his whole body would go up in flames Alastor pulled back, the impression that the warmth of their foreheads pressed together left was even more painful than Vox could have imagined it. Before he could object, even though it would have been to his own detriment, Alastor summoned a small key with the flick of his wrist and craned his neck to reach for Vox’s antennas.

Realizing what his intention was Vox slightly calmed down. He had practically accepted that the cuffs would stay on for the duration of Alastor’s stay here, but he was proven very wrong when he heard a click above him.

One of his antennas was freed and he instantly felt the air hit the metal. Electricity flew straight towards it like a dam being broken, his head felt lighter and his senses immediately got sharper. No wonder he hadn’t stirred when Alastor had put them on. The feeling was similar to having a bucket of ice thrown over him five minutes after waking up.

Alastor looked him over, checking to see if he was alright before moving to the next one.

As soon as the strap was unlatched Vox heaved in a deep breath. Everything suddenly became so much louder. He could once again feel every TV, every cell phone, every technological device that emanated radio signals from all throughout the city. He could feel himself connecting with those waves, melting into them and becoming one with the network.

He looked at Alastor with astonishment clear on his face. The weight of his actions didn’t go unnoticed by Vox. He knew Alastor was dangerously jeopardizing himself by freeing his powers. During fights they had always been tied neck and neck on a normal day, but in his current, wounded state and in Vox’s own territory nonetheless, where wires, cables and electricity flowed through every corner of the tower, it would take little effort from the TV demon to best him.

He recognized the action for what it was, a massive leap of trust.

Vox stared at him, waiting to see if Alastor would change his mind. His eyes were wide as he silently watched the other directing his attention to the cuffs on Vox's wrists. Alastor made quick work of removing them and vanished them with a swift wave of his hand. Electricity overflowed Vox and his fingertips started to spark and zap, his power returning to him like a dehydrated man plummeting straight into a lake.

He rubbed his wrists sluggishly, flooded with energy now that the cuffs restraining it were gone. His skin was slightly sticky, thin stripes of dried blood adorned his arm that Alastor hadn’t managed to devour. He didn’t wipe them away, he needed all the proof he could gather to let him know in the morning that this had all been real.

A short silence spread between them as Alastor waited for Vox's next move, judging whether he had made the right decision.

“You just stored those somewhere, right? You didn’t throw them away?”

Raising an eyebrow, Alastor answered “I still have them. Why do you ask?” He tilted his head as he already knew the answer.

Vox shrugged, the same teasing smile coating his own face.

“No reason.” He lied, he was looking forward to the next time that Alastor would use them and he grinned wider.

Seeing Alastor’s expression he guessed the same thought passed over his mind as well and his heart leapt with anticipation.

His heavy breathing and blush had alleviated, slightly, but now he had to be more careful knowing he could easily hurt the other if his electricity escaped his control. Vox closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he shortened the distance between them and pressed their foreheads together again, his own way of repaying Alastor for the surreal and unwavering amount of trust he was putting in Vox over and over again.

Alastor melted into the touch, humming softly as he snaked an arm over Vox’s back, pulling him even closer. Vox obliged, shuffling their bodies together, just as eager. They were pressed firmly against each other now and he had to stifle a disbelieving gasp as gentle flames of love waved through his whole being.

He made a soft sound when Alastor raised his hand to play with one of his antennas, rubbing it delicately, careful not to bend it. The touch sent shivers down his spine. As his gentle fingers caressed, electricity started to zap between Vox’s antennas indicating his pleasure at the other’s movements.

Alastor swished his hand in the middle of the current, his fingers playing with the spark, no doubt enjoying the tingling sensation it caused on his skin. While Alastor occupied himself with his antennas, Vox was too busy firmly imprinting the image of him doing it in every corner of his mind. He made sure to never forget the soft smile of amusement or the effervescent sparkle in his eyes as they reflected the electricity. He heavily doubted even Heaven could gift him a more beautiful picture.

His ministrations slowly lulled him towards sleep, their softness relaxing his muscles and bringing peace to his drained heart and he felt his world tumble into darkness when Alastor pushed himself up and gently kissed one of his antennas.

Sparks flew through his whole body and he curled in on himself with a whimper.

“You know those are sensitive…”

Alastor resumed his previous position and brought their foreheads together once more. He lightly giggled at Vox’s response.

“Yes. That’s why I did it.”

Vox couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled out of his throat. He had always known this man would be the death of him, he just never expected him to deliver it with so much affection that it made Vox want to die repeatedly.

He leant further into Alastor, chasing that fresh sweetness that he was giving him with no cost. Vox doubted he could ever get enough of it, even if he bathed in it for all eternity it would never satiate his need for more. Desperate to get closer, to feel Alastor better, he lifted his hand and tentatively laid it atop the demon’s head.

When Alastor didn’t protest, Vox tangled his fingers in his hair, surprised but delighted at its softness. The other let out a contented sigh when he started massaging his scalp, his ears flicked as Vox gently threaded his fingers through his hair. He could hear angels crying in the distance as he felt Alastor’s soft ears under his hand once more. His fingers brushed over the buzzed end over his neck, the sensation like angry pinpricks against his skin, a stark contrast to the flowy river of ruby waves of hair just above it and he could feel his eyes starting to droop from the amount of delight that coursed through him.

It felt like holding the universe in the palm of his hand. The sense that he was holding something precious, something so important it trumped any worries that might have clouded Vox’s mind as his gratified soul started singing the song of life.

He wanted to relay all of it to Alastor, to let him know just how vital he was to Vox, but no words save for the melody of Alastor’s heart beating would ever come close.

An idea crept into his mind and Vox rummaged through his records to find what might suffice where sentences had failed.

A gentle voice sounded from Vox’s speakers, breaking the peaceful silence.

“~ Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss.”

Recognizing the song, Alastor huffed, clearly touched by the gesture. Vox continued to hold him close and run his fingers through his hair.

“~ I’m longing to linger ‘till dawn, dear. Just saying this.”

He let the song wander into his mind, soothing it. Just a few hours ago his delirious mind was impervious to the belief that his current position could ever even resemble a possibility, so astray in its conviction that he still found it difficult to comprehend the demon in his hold was actually there. The flames of Alastor’s reciprocated feelings sparked every nerve in his body to dance with joy, deadening their edge and dulling any pain or distress that might still linger as their twinkling embers gradually escorted him to a restful sleep.

“~ Sweet dreams ‘till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.”

His hand had ceased its caressing, lulled by the warmth and unabated gentleness that caused it to slouch on Alastor’s shoulder. Vox started to hum along, not wanting to part with the feeling of being in the demon’s embrace, who had slightly slumped as well, his form lax in Vox’s hold which was so secure and loving no dream that would ever greet his mind could resemble even an inkling of the profound joy the sensation brought him.

“~ But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me.”

That night, the distant stars above glimmered brighter in deference as they looked down on the two demons enveloping each other who shined stronger than any of them. Even the tumultuous winds and the birds who sang gentle harmonies undisturbed halted as they felt the shift transcending through the earth itself and for a moment, one brief, shimmering moment, Heaven and Hell converged.

Through his departure into the world of dreams Vox quietly whispered:

“I love you.”

The sentence resounded from far away, lost within the inescapable void of unconsciousness descending on his exhausted, elevated mind, yet his ears didn’t fail him and he smiled as he heard a familiar voice echo it back from the deep dark.