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God, his head hurt so fucking bad.
But apparently that was the inevitable result of crying your eyes out for hours all because of a stupid fucking mistake.
Vox wrapped his arms tighter around himself, pacing back and forth in front of the apartment door. The late-night silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so. And that made it so much easier for the oppressive thought that perhaps Valentino didn’t want to see him either to trap his mind in a continuous spiral of unease.
He rang the doorbell again. Maybe Val wasn’t home, or he just didn’t hear the first time. Maybe the doorbell was broken or something. Maybe he—
Vox’s thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door creaking open, and he whipped his head around. The sight of his friend-with-benefits only sent another wave of desperation over him.
“Val,” he croaked out, “Val, I need you.”
Valentino stood in the doorway, antennas twitching curiously. His tall muscular frame was a comforting sight.
“Amorcito, what’s the matter?” he purred sweetly—a seductive, smooth tone that, holy shit, was just the most wonderful sound ever. Fuck, Vox was so grateful for the moth’s lovely voice at this moment.
Tears began to well in his eyes once again, causing his circuits to crackle in protest. He wiped his screen with the sleeve of his jacket, trying desperately to ignore the burning pain in his wires that was returning.
“It’s…ugh, fuck. Something happened with Alastor,” he admitted, staring down at the worn carpet of the hallway and nervously playing with his hands. “I normally wouldn’t…y’know…come to you about something like this, o-of course, it’s just…oh, shit…”
He blinked away the tears again, but it was pretty clear that Val had noticed—how could he not have? Vox was so fucking weak and he couldn’t even manage to hide it.
“Come inside, Voxxy,” Val hummed.
Vox felt even more vulnerable.
He stepped through the door and into the familiarity of his friend’s apartment. He had been here so many times before that it was practically a second home to him. And god, he really needed to be somewhere inviting right now.
“You’ve been promoted to my best friend,” Vox remarked tiredly as Valentino shut the door behind him.
“Aw, and I thought that after twenty years of knowing each other, we would have been best friends for a while. Not to mention the sex.”
Vox bit his lip. “Fair.”
The room was quiet for a moment, making it much easier for unwanted thoughts to begin to swarm in his mind as he stood there, arms still wrapped protectively around himself. He was incredibly relieved when Val spoke up first.
“So, baby, wanna get down to business?” Valentino nodded toward the bedroom, an intoxicating smile playing at the corners of his lips. The moth’s hands moved to Vox’s boxy TV head, teasingly brushing against the corners.
Oh.
“Can I be honest with you…?” Vox asked, weakly grabbing onto Val’s wrists. The touch felt far from bad, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it right now.
Val blinked. “Honesty? From you of all people?” he laughed, moving his lower set of hands onto Vox’s waist. “Sure, go ahead, mi amor.”
Vox inhaled deeply. “Well, today is one of those times where sex probably won’t help believe it or not. Some other time, yeah, we can. But I’m not in the mood right now.” He forced out a quiet laugh, sheepishly meeting Val’s gaze.
He could have sworn that Valentino’s eyes held a hint of mocking in them. “Hmmm, yeah, that’s bullshit. You’re never ‘not in the mood,’” Val stated, beginning to stroke the fabric of Vox’s sweater, running his fingers near his collar.
“I guess this time it’s different.” Vox pushed Val’s hands aside, though not harshly, and sat down on the bed. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he felt the plush comforter beneath him, and suddenly it was hard to keep his still-slightly-teary eyes open.
Val promptly sat down next to him, the disbelieving grin still present on his face, and rested his hand on Vox’s thigh.
Vox sighed, but refrained from flinching away.
In response to Vox’s uncomfortable silence, Valentino laughed lightly, his fingers trailing gently along his clothed skin in a way that could make any sinner dizzy. “I can make you feel good, amorcito. Besides, we’ve fucked so many times already. What difference does one more time make?”
Valentino wasn’t lying. He did know how to make someone feel good. And in any other conditions, Vox would have been thoroughly delighted, but now he had to repress the overwhelming discomfort that was beginning to eat at him from the inside.
He pulled the thick comforter tighter around his bare upper body, clawed hands digging into the fabric with a death grip. In an attempt to relax himself, he allowed his mind to wander, but when his thoughts went to how many people had been in this bed beforehand, it just made the simple act of avoiding a breakdown even harder.
So instead, he focused on the way Valentino’s arms were wrapped around him, and only him.
“Val?” he spoke up softly.
“Hmmm…Yes?”
Vox inhaled deeply. “Don’t you want to know what happened? Y’know, that made me so upset?”
Valentino untangled himself from Vox and sat up to stretch before responding casually, “I didn’t think to ask. The littlest things can tick you off sometimes, y’know.” He paused. “Was this important?”
Vox bit his lip, averting his gaze and instead focusing it on the brightly-colored posters plastered on the wall. “It was Alastor,” he admitted, and just the mere mention of the radio demon’s name was enough to make him begin to tear up yet again. Fucking hell.
He squeezed his eyes shut and continued, ignoring the feeling of the wet streaks rolling down his screen. “I had…feelings for him. Genuine, honest-to-god romantic feelings that I didn’t fucking think I was capable of feeling for anyone.” His grip on the blanket tightened briefly, but he willed his fists to unclench and his shoulders to relax. “And you know how he responded?”
“Hm. How?”
“He just…he fucking walked away. But I saw his face, he looked, like, disgusted or something. And sad.” Vox was now unable to hold back the tears, and his screen glitched out a bit as he buried his face in the blankets.
This was so damn stupid of him. Being so upset about a rejection wasn’t a trait of a respected up-and-coming businessman, for fuck’s sake.
“Aw, well, I’m not very surprised, mi carino. Nobody else would be able to put with you, after all.”
What?
Those words stabbed into Vox’s chest like an angelic spear, but he tried to brush that off and appear unbothered by plastering on a fake grin. Val probably hadn’t meant anything bad by that, right?
He sighed. “I guess not. Thought Alastor would be different, but I guess I’m just insufferable.”
Valentino seemed to buy Vox’s pathetic attempt at playing his self-loathing as a joke and laughed in response.
“Yeah, but I deal with you, don’t I?” Val wrapped all four of his arms around Vox’s torso, pulling him close. Vox found it comforting, despite his lingering unease, and leaned in closer, tracing his clawed fingers over Val’s soft velvety wings.
“You do,” Vox murmured, burying his face into the moth demon. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, mi amor.”