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"After all that has transpired and everything I've said and done, you'd still accept me as I am? How could I have been so foolish as to turn you away?" Alastor throws his arms around Vox, burying his face into the taller demon's shoulders. Tears prick the corners of his eyes, sobs threatening to escape from his delicate lips.
"There, there, I've got you," Vox placates, soothingly patting the radio demon on the back. Now that he finally has Alastor in his arms, Vox is surprised to discover just how petite and lithe the radio demon is, underneath all of those stuffy layers. "What's done is done. I'm just glad you've returned. But whether seven years or seven-thousand years have passed, you'll always have a home here with me."
Slowly, reluctantly, Alastor raises his head, beautiful rubellite eyes gazing intently into Vox's face. And for a brief moment, Vox is taken aback, as he had never seen the radio demon look anything less than perfect. He's frowning now, complexion as ashen and lifeless as cemetery soil. Even with tear tracks staining his cheeks, Alastor looks every bit the imposing demon as he has always been. Or maybe, that's not quite it.
Any lesser demon would run screaming for the hills, but Alastor is choosing to be here. With him. In the end, the radio demon finally chose him, revealing a fragile sort of vulnerability to himself that is quite pretty.
Vox has never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.
Reaching forward, Vox wraps an arm around the radio demon's small waist and pulls him into a tender embrace. "You don't need to apologize. I understand now. It was all that hotel's fault. As long as you stay here with me, I'll always protect you from anyone who dares to take what's mine."
Alastor shakes his head, scarlet eyes brimming with tears. He brings a delicate, frail hand up to his chest, a bashful expression on his face. "But...But I......"
"You've always been cute, even when you'd try to heck up my video programs," Vox chuckles.
And much to Vox's bewilderment, the radio demon honest to goodness pouts. "Well, that's only because you look so infuriatingly handsome in your video podcasts--"
Vox's expression darkens momentarily as he steps over to Alastor. Quickly, the TV demon closes the distance separating them as he pulls Alastor lower, holding the petite demon in his arms as if they were practicing the waltz. If anyone were to see them, Vox is quite certain they'd be mistaken for lovers.
Though, he supposes they already are lovers...always have been, in-fact. The line between love and hate is very thin, as they always say.
"Oh, you've always thought I was handsome, babe?" Vox smirks, to-which Alastor demurely lowers his gaze. But Vox doesn't allow Alastor another chance to speak, instead bringing his face closer to Alastor's. He'd never noticed it before, but the radio demon's eyelashes are long, and...everything about him is elegant and fragile, and Vox will do everything in his power to keep Alastor safe.
They're a team now, and maybe this is why Vox had fallen. Who knew it would be in hell where he'd finally reclaim the heart that he had lost?
Or maybe he never had a heart to begin with, and only Alastor could grant him with that little bit of humanity he was sorely lacking.
Vox knows he might be speaking too soon. Perhaps it's early to say this, but deep, deep down and buried underneath all of his superfluous wires is a heart constructed entirely of metal. And he's dead certain that he is in-love with Alastor, that this is the demon he wants to spend the rest of his afterlife with.
Alastor is so close to him now, their lips only centimeters apart. His eyes are closed, the picturesque image of a porcelain doll.
Vox lowers his hand on Alastor's waist, just a little bit when......
"VOX, YOU'D BETTER BE DECENT OR I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL END YOU--"
A high-pitched scream emanates from Vox's throat as he hastily jumps up from his desk, spinning on his heels to catch sight of Velvette kicking his door down. Hands balled into fists, Velvette is radiating fury as she stomps over to him. Behind the small, angry demon is Valentino...oh great, the entire gang is here. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.
"Velvette, Valentino, to what do I owe this...lovely and entirely unexpected visit?" Vox asks through grit teeth. "But seriously, why are you two here?
"What do you mean what WE'RE doing here!? You're the jackass who skipped out on our last meeting!" Velvette seethes, looking seconds away from tearing out his throat with her teeth. She's pacing back and forth now, looking every bit as troubled as he was when Valentino shot down his idea for his movies...but on ice.
"That's because I was busy, doing uh...stuff."
"Oh, care to elaborate more, Voxy?" Valentino drawls as he blows on his pipe. Pink smoke weaves around him, and for once, Vox is thankful he has a television screen for a face.
Velvette scoffs, rolling her eyes as she pushes past Vox. "Don't give me that bullshit!! Maybe stop being a thirsty fucking dumbass for one minute! Your little crush on the radio demon was cute at first, but now it's just getting pathetic."
Awkwardly laughing, Vox says a bit too quickly, "What--no!! I don't have a crush on Alastor...what gave you that idea?" He pauses briefly, but a deep sense of wonder and longing causes him to ask, "But why do you say that? Is he talking about me? Did Alastor reconsider our deal? Not that I'm interested, of course...but did he?"
Velvette and Valentino share a long, hard look, before turning back towards Vox.
"Look, is it because he's a redhead?" Valentino teases, pinching Vox's face. "Because I've got a whole slew of available and willing workers at my disposal. Maybe it's the cute little horns? Fangs? Or is it the insults and violence that really gets you all hot and bothered--"
"No, no, it's not any of that," Vox retorts through grit teeth. "I promise I'll be in the next meeting, just let me take care of something first. It's very important business."
"Is writing self-insert fanfics about how much you and the radio demon wuv each other what constitutes as work?" Velvette asks, voice saccharinely sweet, only for her tempo to dramatically change. "Because I've got news for you, buddy. This drivel isn't good enough to even use as flooring in my guinea pig's cage!"
Valentino blinks in surprise. "You have a guinea pig--"
"No, I was being facetious."
"Uh...not that I care what you believe in..and I'm not sure if you remember, but we're in hell--"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Valentino!" Murmuring an entire barrage of curses underneath her breath, Velvette brings a hand up to her face. "You both are the most dense bastards I have ever known, but my reputation depends on how you two behave." Velvette jabs a finger at Valentino, hissing, "There's so much wrong with you, but I'd be stuck bitching about your problems for the next three centuries. For now, I'll just stick with lover boy here."
"Who're you calling a lover boy!?" Vox exclaims, offense painted over his features.
Not dignifying his question with a response, Velvette whips out her phone--revealing a particularly damning fanfiction. "You must reaaaally want Alastor to call you daddy, huh?"
"To be fair, don't we all?" Valentino drawls. "With a body like that and a face that looks like something from a period piece, he'd earn a killing in my films. Too bad the radio demon's off the market--"
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY!?" Vox screams, lunging at Valentino and burying his claws into the moth demon's collar. "We're discussed this before. No one here is permitted near the radio demon except for me! Say those words about him again and I swear that I will fucking murder you!!"
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you want to do more than just fu--"
"Ugh, is this really what you've been doing all day? Writing self-insert fanfiction shipping yourself with the radio demon!?" Velvette distastefully gripes as she scrolls through Vox's screen. "Garbage, trash, shitty harlequin romance...do you think you're the main character in a Jane Austen novel? If the radio demon sees this, and he most certainly WILL because what dumbass uses his entire full name, picture, and location on a fucking fanfic account--he's going to slaughter you!! And I will laugh...LAUGH, but you really are pathetic."
Vox falls silent, emotions flickering from disdain to offense, before settling on a feigned sense of indifference and control. "Oh, you're worrying yourself over nothing, Velvette. So what if my name is on the web? I can just pretend to sue some random bloke for defamation and claim they're a stalker that stole all of my information."
Glaring at him, Velvette deadpans, "I find it hard to believe there's a person out there who's even more pathetic and spineless than you."
"You're just jealous you don't have a single creative bone in your body," Vox retorts.
"Creative...CREATIVE!? If you don't recall, I run an entire fashion empire! Oh, give me that!" And before Vox can respond, Velvette opens up his word editor. "Nothing about any of this invokes any sort of creativity! You're just writing about all of your deepest and...pathetically vanilla fantasies about the radio demon. Does he really look like an innocent damsel in distress in your eyes?"
"...Well, he's certainly short and shaped like a toothpick," Vox offhandedly murmurs.
Silence falls over the Vees, a calculative look in Velvette's eyes as she gives Vox's work in progress another read-through. Eventually, she finally speaks. Hands clasped together, Velvette sighs, "I long for the sweet release of death...again. That was awful, but since my reputation hinges on this, I'll lend you a hand."
"I don't need your help--"
"This is an intervention since you clearly aren't going to quit writing this shit on your own," Velvette interrupts, holding one hand out. "Reading through your shitty fantasy made me realize how much I loathe everyone, which I'm sure wasn't the tone you were going for."
"My heart is practically bursting with joy. Really, it is," Vox unenthusiastically quips, "But this is my story, not yours. And besides, look at all of the hits I'm getting! Even got fanart from this one user on HellFics--"I_<3_Bad_Bois."
"...Oh, I KNEW I should've tried harder to recruit the radio demon--"
"Valentino?"
"Yes, Vox?"
"Shut the fuck up," Vox sighs, long and suffering. "Just because you two don't possess any ounce of class in your bones, doesn't mean I can't write what I want. And maaaaybe I was trying to portray the radio demon in a...certain way."
"Go on," Velvette icily says. "Share with the rest of the class, Mister Author."
"...Well, Alastor died in the 1930s. I'd imagine those were the sorts of books popular during the course of his life," Vox awkwardly suggests. "It's very important to study your subjects...for worldbuilding, that is."
"Oh, for the love of--Forget about that triangular-shaped furry bastard," Velvette sighs. "There's no getting out of this one."
"...This is literature," Vox insists.
"If he doesn't kick your ass, then I will."