Chapter Text
Vox's heart sings, despite his best effort to make it quiet. It isn't subtle. It never is.
The music swells louder outside.
Below, Husk's arms tremble from the strain of holding the boombox over his head. His shoulders burn, wings twitching irritably against his back as he adjusts his grip for what feels like the hundredth time.
"Don't make me say it again," Alastor murmurs without looking at him.
Stand in place and don't move, yeah, yeah. Why don't I finish for you with boxhead upstairs too? Prick.
"I hope he leaves you," Husk mutters flatly, shifting the weight again with a grunt.
Upstairs, Angel leans halfway out the window, eyes sparkling with delight.
"Oh my God—"
Vox just stares in disbelief. He lets out a small laugh, despite himself.
Alastor remembered.
Ages ago, they had a running joke between them involving this song. Alastor hated disco music, but he still used to dance with him to it, just to see the reactions they'd get. It turned into their thing. Their song, in a ridiculous, backwards way... He remembered it.
Vox's eyes softened without realizing. He hated that he loved seeing Alastor like this. Even if it was ridiculous, even if it was indirect. Down below, Alastor places a hand over his chest, giving a theatrical little bow toward Vox's window.
Like nothing happened... Like this fixes it.
Vox's screen flickers sharply, snapping into a frown to remember the way he laughed at him earlier that day. He laughed, and yet... There he was.
The moment breaks.
"...You've got to be kidding me." He mutters, turning back and sitting down on the bed with his back turned to the open window.
Angel went after him. In that same moment, Vaggie stood at the window of the room she shared with Charlie, seriously considering banging her head against the wall. Charlie wasn't helping much with the way she bobbed her head to the music.
"Why does this keep happening here? Vox doesn't even live here!" she waves her arms in exasperation, motioning to outside.
"Aw, but it's sweet!" Charlie clasps her hands together, charmed.
She was completely unbothered, much to Vaggie's chagrin.
"No, it's not sweet! I thought when they got together they'd go and be crazy at Vox's place, not here!"
"Well...At least they're better as a couple, right?" Charlie smiles, tilting her head.
"Sure, babe, let's go with that," Vaggie sighs, defeated.
Downbelow, the idea of handing Niffty a bat and having her knock him out was starting to sound greatly appealing to Husk.
"Boss, for fuck's sake, how long do we gotta stand here?" He groans, shifting his stance.
"As long as it takes for my darling picture box to come to his senses, of course."
Alastor was perfectly calm, almost cheerful. Husk closes his eyes for a moment.
"Help me..." he murmurs, his voice miserable and small.
As much as Husk was trying to somehow put an end to Alastor's antics before they ended up standing outside all night, at the same time Angel was helping himself to more drama by making everything worse and coaching Vox. He was pacing around the room like a stressed drill sargeant as Vox sat on the edge of the bed.
"You go out there and tell him it's too late to win you back with sweet talk! You are an independent demon who doesn't need a man!" Angel exclaims, jabbing a finger towards the window.
"I kind of do need him though," Vox pouts.
Ugh, remember he laughed at you! Don't give in yet!
"Well, no duh, but ya gotta make him work for it!" Angel waves his arms.
Vox nods slowly, absorbing that. Right... Acting. He can act. Taking a steadying breath, he stands, straightens himself, and squares his shoulders, hoping he looks mad and not as needy and tearful as he felt. He can do this.
"No! Not yet!" Angel then practically screams, leaping from his seat and tackling Vox to the ground before he can take a step.
"...Okay, I might be hurt now." He mumbles dryly from the floor.
"Vox, hon, sweetie, you are not going out sad over an old man! Don't go out there right away!" Angel stresses with all the drama of a friend enjoying the chaos but trying to help.
"...What does that even mean?"
Angel squints down at him.
"I keep forgetting you're basically a grandpa too. You guys are made for each other." He rolls his eyes.
At that same moment outside, Husk considered starting a workers' union. He's put up with a lot of things over the years, but his boss' relationship with Vox was too much. He's been there, done that. Or better yet, he's seen a little too much of that.
"I'm goin' on strike if we stand out here all night." He murmurs dryly, voice lowered.
Even if Alastor hears him, so what? What else can he do to make his life more miserable than it already is?
"Yay, strike! What's a strike?" Niffty giggles, then looks at Husk, confused.
"It's a… Uh, a protest for the sake of gaining better rights." He replies awkwardly.
Niffty nods as if she understands perfectly...and then immediately yanks on Alastor's coat. Why Husk keeps thinking Niffty will ever not tell Alastor something is beyond him. You'd think he'd learn by now.
"Alastor, can we have rights?" Niffty chirps.
"What rights do you request, my dear?" Alastor questions pleasantly as if the topic is amusing.
It probably was. Sadistic crazy deer.
"Oh, um...I don't know. What rights am I requesting?" Niffty looks up at Husk, genuinely confused, her enthusiasm waning for a moment.
And then the maniac spins his head around at an impossible angle to grin at him widely. Husk's stomach twists.
"I have no idea what she's talking about." Husk smiles nervously.
He hates his fucking life.
"Oh, oh! I know! Can I request the right to stab?!" Niffty grins in glee.
He breathes a small sigh of relief when Alastor snaps his head back to normal. But it's short-lived.
"But of course, my dear! I give you full permission to stab Husker... If Vox does not come out here." Alastor grins menacingly.
Husk pales...then looks up at the window.
"Vox! Stop summoning the fucking plague and talk to him!" Husk shouts.
He quietly resigns himself to having to stand outside all night when Vox pokes his head out the window and doesn't give the reaction Alastor demanded.
"Go away! You're ruining girls' night!" he snaps before lowering his voice slightly. "Angel, did I say it right?"
"Yes, king!" Angel's cheering voice is heard from inside, the yes coming out as a dragged 'yas'.
Vox continued to glare down at Alastor, trying to look firm.
"My dear, we both know this night will end with you back where you belong." Alastor calls up smoothly.
"I don't belong anywhere!" Vox shoots back, but the blush on his face betrays him.
"You know that isn't true, Vox." Alastor's tone was almost purring.
At that, Husk resisted the urge to cover his ears and sing 'la la la'… This was not humane. Could this be considered animal abuse? Did he qualify as an animal? He felt sick. He was sure he likely looked green too. All of the stress was harming the baby. The baby in question being Husk.
Is he ever going to get a break? He knew the answer was likely no, but alas, hope dies last. He never wanted to hear Alastor say something that could be taken in such an intimate context ever again.
Oh hell, the mental pictures! Quick, drink, drink!
Holding the boombox under one arm, he pulled out a flask from his pocket and drank half of it in record time to be certain the part of his mind creating mental pictures was dead.
Oh yeah, there we go. Thank hell he's drunk.
Alastor, on the other hand, was still a gentleman... regardless of popular opinion. His magic stirs. The air crackles with static and something older, darker. Symbols flicker faintly as he lifts a hand. And from the ground, flowers begin to grow. They burst through the earth in seconds, dark, twisted blooms, curling petals in deep reds and blacks. They spread outward until the entire ground around the hotel is covered.
Upstairs, Angel gasps dramatically, looking over Vox's shoulder.
"You lucky prick! I can't believe you got a field of flowers over one fight!" Angel gapes, looking outside.
Vox was blushing, openly flustered by the gesture, his screen brighter than normal.
"I mean, sure, it's weird creepy flowers, but considering who you're with, it's no surprise." Angel adds with an amused smirk.
Angel then pokes his head out of the window to shout at the miserable cat down below. Husk stood stiff, holding the boombox over his head yet again with shaking arms, flowers up to his waist. The only one not covered in any flower was Alastor himself.
"Hey Husk! Where's my field of flowers, huh?! You suck!" Angel exclaims, all drama and sass before he closes his pink curtains with a flair to make his point.
Vox, unable to help himself, opens them again and glances down to see a still agitated Husk buried in flowers. Niffty waved the 'Alastor is very sorry' sign like a cheerleader, only her arms poking out of the flower field. His heart shouldn't be warming, but... he was weakening. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go without him.
Which, of course, Alastor knew well. One of his black tentacles surges up through the open window, trying to curl around Vox's waist.
"Ugh, no, I'm mad at you!" He tries to slap it away.
It persists. Vox yelps, lifted up in the air in a tight hold by the tentacle.
"Alastor! Don't you dare!" he protests, squirming.
Angel sits by the side, eating popcorn for Valentino's sake and taking notes. The two Vees will need to hear about this. What? His phone was dead; he needed to take note of the gossip somehow. He puts a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh when the tentacle yanks Vox to the window.
Angel sincerely hoped they never broke up. This was better than reality TV.
"Alastor!" Vox panics, his voice higher as the world suddenly tilts.
The next second, he's yanked clean out of the window. Air rushes past him, the neon glow of Hell spinning wildly, and then he drops.... Straight into waiting arms. Alastor catches him with ease, one arm securely around Vox's back, the other under his knees. His grin is sharp, satisfied, and far too pleased with himself.
"...Did you think I wouldn't catch you?"
"Maybe." Vox sulks, looking away, though he doesn't actually try to get down.
Alastor hums, entirely unconcerned.
Without sparing so much as a glance for anyone else, he turns on his heel and starts toward the hotel. Behind them, Husk is still standing there.
"...You've got to be fucking kidding me," he rasps.
Niffty, still mostly submerged in flowers, waves enthusiastically as they pass.
"Bye! Have fun!"
Neither of them acknowledges her.
The door to the hotel swings open on its own as Alastor walks in, carrying Vox like he weighs nothing.
"I'm here now," he says simply, as if that explains everything.
Vox crosses his arms, still in his hold, trying very hard to maintain some dignity while being bridal-carried through a public space.
"You ruined my night." Vox complains, though it comes out a touch weaker than intended.
Alastor continues walking, footsteps steady against the polished floor.
"My night was ruined when you left my room."
"Well, we fought! What was I supposed to do? You weren't taking me seriously!" Vox frowns, screen dimming.
Up the stairs they go, Alastor not even pausing between steps.
"My silly little television... If I weren't taking you seriously, would I be doing all of this?" He replies with a smile.
"Well... You could be doing it for laughs." Vox hesitates.
They reach the hallway. Doors line up, Alastor heading straight for his own without breaking stride.
"Although this has been an entertaining night, no, I didn't do this purely to amuse myself," he admits.
The door swings open before he even touches it. Inside, the room is dim, bathed in warm, low light. Finally, Alastor steps in... and the door shuts firmly behind them. Only then does he set Vox down. Vox immediately straightens, brushing himself off like he wasn't just carried upstairs.
"Not everything needs to be a show, Alastor!"
Alastor turns toward him, adjusting his coat sleeves with precise, unhurried movements.
"Who says I'm putting on a show? I'm, what's the word..."
"Would it kill you to admit you're trying to apologize?" Vox deadpans. "Actually, scratch that, knowing you, it probably would."
Alastor places a hand dramatically over his chest.
"Oh, you wound me."
"You were perfectly fine not talking to me all day; I say nothing wounds you." Vox shoots back sourly.
Alastor's expression softens, very slightly, in a way Vox never expected.
"I assumed you wanted a little time apart after the way you left."
Vox pauses, screen flickering faintly.
Well... that was... annoyingly reasonable.
He looks away, folding his arms tighter.
"Then why... why did you laugh when I said I love you?" His voice came out more quietly.
The question lingers between them. Alastor tilts his head.
"Ah... My dear, I simply found it silly you were acting as if I didn't already choose you." His tone was slightly more open, softer in a way it only ever was for him.
"I wasn't overreacting." Vox mutters, a pout on his face.
"Not at all, mon chér."
There's that never-ending smile of his.
"Stop looking amused then." Vox's eyes narrow as they stare at each other.
"Why don't you make me?" Alastor's grin sharpens.
Vox looks away with a huff.
"Not until you say it back." He grumbles.
Alastor studies him.
"Will it reassure you if I say it once?" He questions, taking a step closer.
Vox hesitates, only for a second.
"... Maybe."
Alastor closes the distance between them. For the first time, he pauses. No theatrics. Then he leans in, voice dropping to something intimate, more private.
"... I love you, Vincent."
The words brush right against the side of his screen. And Vox... completely short-circuits.
Vox, with all the grace of a dying laptop, proceeded to glitch violently, romantic ads bursting across his screen rapidly. Hearts and over-the-top graphics flooded everything at once. He makes a small, incoherent noise.
Alastor chuckles, low and pleased, leaning in just a fraction closer. Vox is certain his mind melts a little when Alastor kisses him. Lights flicker on and off, dangerously close to exploding.
Fuck, he'll never get tired of those lips on his. This is his oxygen.
He moved automatically, pulling Alastor closer by the waist, until there was no space between them as they kissed. He almost whined when Alastor pulled away.
"Well? Is my TV still buffering?" Alastor murmurs, their lips inches apart.
Vox blinks, dazed, trying and failing to regain composure. He'll never be composed again. It was hard to form any coherent thought every time Alastor was so close.
"Mm... I don't know, check again." Vox barely manages to speak.
His eyes turn to hearts quickly when Alastor kisses him again. And the lights do explode this time.
That night the entire city lost power.
Now, the next day their morning starts peacefully, the two of them asleep in bed and holding each other. For everyone else at the hotel... not so much.
It starts with a scream.
"Babe! Charlie! The moth is burning the kitchen down!" Vaggie practically screeches.
She tears down the hallway at full speed, wings flaring behind her as she chases after Charlie, who decided the best course of action was to hide.
"I'm thinking!" Charlie calls back, ducking around a corner.
"No, you're hiding!"
Downstairs, the source of the problem was obvious and overly loud.
No one knew when Valentino showed up, but he was there when Vaggie woke up, Spanish music blasting as he danced around the kitchen, unconcerned with the mess he was making. Something on the stove was smoking... Something else was definitely on fire. But he spins, hips swaying, completely committed to the performance.
Upstairs, Charlie slows, turning back toward Vaggie with a sheepish smile.
"Um, so... Is this a bad time to tell you Velvette used up all the hot water?" Charlie slowly inches away from her.
Vaggie stops.
"When did she show up?! Are we all forgetting the Vees do not live here?!"
Were the three of them just slowly but surely moving in? What was the end goal here? She decides the likely fact is that they all just like annoying everybody.
"She was here earlier to see Vox, but he's still asleep with Alastor, and she was rushing to a runway show! I offered her our bathroom; I had to! And you looked so cute while you were sleeping, I couldn't wake you up!" Charlie rambles, wincing.
Vaggie sighs to find the bathroom in her and Charlie's room looking like a hurricane passed through it. Velvette had taken her sweet time getting ready; that was clear. Clothes everywhere. Makeup smeared across the counter. Towels on the floor. Something glittery stuck to the mirror. Vaggie slowly closes the door.
"... I hate all three of them," she mutters.
Why she ever thought Velvette wasn't as chaotic and crazy as the other Vees, she'll never know. All three were impossible.
At least their leader is Alastor's problem now... Not that it was reassuring.
"Val's as blind as a bat. Just throwing that out there, in the open... in case you wanna stop him from—" Angel interrupts dryly.
He was leaning casually in the doorway, watching the two of them like it was a live show. The sprinklers then go off. Water rains down instantly, soaking everything.
Angel doesn't even flinch.
"-starting a fire."
Vaggie leaves them and marches down straight into the kitchen, drenched, hair plastered over her face.
Valentino sits comfortably on the counter, wings lifted just enough to keep himself perfectly dry as he eats what he made, looking pleased. He glances up and startles.
"Oye! Cálmate, Samara!"
Valentino knew horror movies, okay? And she looked like that little girl from the well he saw last month on the Vees movie night. He could totally see… What was this chica's name again? Oh well! He could see whatever her name is climbing out of a well, all spooky like.
Gasp. He could totally use that concept for one of his movies.
"Out." Vaggie points to the door.
Valentino gasped. He gestures to himself and then to the door, exaggeratedly offended. Vaggie keeps pointing for him to leave, her hair still covering her face.
"After I spent all morning slaving over a hot stove?!"
"... You made that for yourself."
"Hmph! I am too sexy to sit here and listen to these baseless accusations! I know when I'm not wanted!" Valentino huffs, sliding off the counter.
He stormed out theatrically. Vaggie didn't relax. She really wishes Charlie didn't stay upstairs to hide under their bed.
"... He's going to keep coming back, isn't he?" She murmurs dryly to Angel, who was coming down the stairs with his hair in a towel.
"Oh yeah. You kinda should've seen this coming when Mr. and Mr. Maniac got together." Angel snickers.
"So what, we're going to have to let the Vees run wild in here so Alastor can have his date nights with Vox undisturbed?" She gives him a withering look.
"Pretty much."
In that moment, Lucifer chose the worst possible moment to come back.
"Ooooh, I didn't know the king was so little!" Valentino's cooing, fascinated tone comes from outside.
"Oh no," Vaggie whispers, sprinting out and leaving a giggling Angel behind.
She finds Valentino outside on the hotel porch, holding Lucifer in his arms like an excited child who just found a new pet.
Lucifer, for his part, looked... confused. The tall moth... he wanted to say lady; cooing over him reminded him a bit of Lilith. And Lucifer couldn't deny that it was nice to be held by a tall woman. Or whatever the moth was. A feminine person? All in all, it was nice to be held.
Okay. This is my life now, I guess.
"Dios mío... Put the king down," Vaggie snaps.
"But he's so little and adorable!" Valentino whines, practically cuddling Lucifer.
"...I'm still the king." Lucifer sulks, grumbling under his breath.
"A little adorable king!" Valentino coos, nuzzling the top of his head and letting out a moth-like squeak.
"Are you high right now?!" Vaggie screeches, fed up.
"Is that a re... rhe... What word am I looking for, mi pequeño rey?" Valentino looks down at Lucifer.
"Uh... Rhetorical, I guess?" Lucifer tries.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" Valentino repeats with a grin.
"Maybe I'm high." She mumbles, wondering if the ridiculous day would end any time soon.
Upstairs, the door to Alastor's room finally opens. Vox steps out first, noticeably calmer than the night before, his hand intertwined with Alastor's. His screen is steady, though if looked at closely, there's the occasional flicker of something suspiciously heart-shaped. Alastor follows at an unhurried pace, entirely composed. They were both content, glued to each other's side yet again. They make their way downstairs, passing by the front entrance.
Through the open doors, just outside in the yard, Husk lies sprawled flat on his back in the middle of a mess of trampled, half-wilted flowers. The boombox sits beside him, still faintly crackling static. One arm is draped over his eyes, the other loosely clutching an empty flask. He does not move.
Niffty crouches beside him, humming to herself as she aggressively cleans him with a rag, despite the fact he is both soaked in alcohol and covered in petals.
"Ooo, you're very dirty!" she chirps, scrubbing at his face.
Husk groans weakly.
"Stop... cleanin' me..."
"Oh! You're alive! That's so much worse; you're still messy!" she gasps.
She resumes scrubbing with even more enthusiasm. Husk closes his eyes again. Inside, a moment of silence passes between Vox and Alastor.
"...Is he dead?" Vox asks, glancing over.
"Merely resting, I'm sure," Alastor replies smoothly, not even slowing.
They continue walking. Then they walk in on Vaggie chasing after Valentino with her angelic spear. Valentino, who held Lucifer in his four arms and was grinning in all the glee of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Angel stood watching it all from the side with a bag of popcorn in hand.
"Get back here!" Vaggie hisses.
"You'll never take us alive!" Valentino exclaims dramatically.
"So, uh... Is this like an offensive thing to ask, but... Are you a man or a woman?" Lucifer questions, confused, peeking out from where Valentino covered him with his wing.
"I can show you," Valentino purrs.
That Vox takes as his cue to exit, because he knew, unfortunately well, that the moth was no stranger to public indecency. He looks at the deer next to him with a withering look.
"Back to bed?"
"Back to bed." Alastor nods.
Angel then glances at Vox and Alastor, smirking knowingly.
Well, well... looks like someone got his man back.
"Girls' night paid off, huh?" he murmurs, chuckling to himself as the sounds of Vaggie yelling and Valentino cackling echo through the hotel.
Vox flushes, muttering under his breath, while Alastor tilts his head, amused by the commentary. Without another word, the pair retreats quietly back upstairs, leaving the lobby chaos behind.
"Huh... You know Al, every time we're not fighting, we're definitely the normal couple in here." Vox grins as they walk into Alastor's room, closing the door behind themselves.
They settle back in bed, Vox's screen lighting up with a blush to have Alastor relaxed in his arms again.
"What was it we were called recently, dear?"
Vox pulls him closer, Alastor nuzzling against his screen.
"Ah... Hell's worst couple."
They both laugh.
Hell's worst couple, back in business again.