Work Text:
How did it get like this?
That's the thought that kept running through Vox's mind as he paced back and forth his living room. It's what he'd been doing for at least an hour, ever since he had to admit to himself that it was no use trying to keep burying himself in work. That had worked for the past three days, but slowly the turmoil of his thoughts took over until even Vox, CEO of workaholism, was forced to admit defeat.
Three days ago, yet another fight with Valentino. That shouldn't be a reason to lose his mind so completely over it, seeing as it happened usually at least once a week, but something about this time had been bad. Really Fucking Bad.
Now, one could say their fights always were bad and probably be correct, because it was Vox and Valentino, who were known for lots of things but none of them were their calm tempers and healthy communication techniques. But this time was different. Vox couldn't put his finger on how exactly, but he knew they both felt it; cutting deeper, crossing boundaries, it wasn't even their usual screaming and door-slamming in the end, just icy cold silence and a final, quiet click of the door closing.
And not a word since. It usually didn't take long until their usual make up sex spree, because as much as they couldn't be with each other sometimes, being without each other was even less possible. Or so Vox thought. This time though…he wasn't so sure.
~~~
I never needed you. And if I did need a cheap whore, there is an abundance of them out there that are easier to handle than you are.
If all of that is true, why am I still here after more than 30 years, hm? Face it, everyone else would kick your controlling, obsessive ass to the curb sooner rather than later. Oh, wait. That did happen before, didn't it, cariño? And you are still so sore about it because your fragile little ego couldn't take that hit.
That's rich. I'm controlling and obsessive? Then what are you? If you can't control your sluts, what do you really have to show for?
Ohh ya veo, this is about Angel again, isn't it? Because your fragile ego also can't handle him. You are way more hung up about him than I am. But really, Voxxy, it's so much easier with him, he at least knows when to shut up and be a good boy.
~~~
He didn't even know how it started this time. Something small, trivial for sure. It usually was. Or maybe Val felt Vox's attention was too much on work instead of him again. Maybe Vox had a jealousy fit. It didn't matter.
What did matter to him right now was the way it was eating him up from the inside, it felt like acid burning through his circuits until he wanted to scream with how bad it hurt.
What did matter was that he couldn't push the thought of having to make a decision away. He needed to do something about this, but he didn't know what. Would it be better to end this once and for all? Probably, but he couldn't bear the thought. Couldn't bear the thought of Valentino making that decision. If he was being honest with himself, and if there ever was a time for that, it was certainly now, the thought of losing him was what was sending him into this spiral of desperation. That thought was probably the reason he hadn't reached out to his partner yet for fear he was finally done with this. Done with him .
~~~
I hate you.
He wasn't sure which of them said it. Maybe they both did. Insults and screamed accusations weren't anything new between them. Even those three words weren't unheard of, but always teasing, always a game. Not like this. Not like they meant it.
Now they were constantly replaying in Valentino's head as he downed drink after drink, the room starting to swim as he lost count of how many glasses he was deep. Considering his insanely high tolerance it must be a fucking lot.
Everything about this was wrong, so wrong. Even Val's coping mechanism was a far cry from the usual rampages he went on. Sure, there almost always was alcohol and drugs, but usually they were accompanied by destruction; bullet holes, destroyed furniture and dead employees. Not melting into his couch in a pathetic puddle, with not even a single whore to take his temper out on in sight.
Sure, there was anger first, white-hot and all-consuming after he walked out of their shared bedroom - Vox's bedroom, really, but he hadn't been thinking of it that way for a long time if he was being honest with himself - but that anger was quickly replaced by this deep...despair. No amount of alcohol could drown out the fucking ache of missing him. And he really, really tried over the course of the last few days. To no avail.
That TV-headed fucker would not stop haunting his thoughts, yet he couldn't bring himself to face him for reasons that went beyond refusing to be the first one to cave in. No, he felt a deep, gnawing insecurity, which was a feeling so preposterous to him it almost, almost brought back his usual anger.
Because how dare that infuriating man make him feel a thing so utterly foreign to him in any other aspect of his afterlife?
But oh, wasn't that really the crux of the matter?
Feelings.
Val downed another drink.
~~~
It took another day for Vox to admit to himself that they needed to do something about this. Because as terrified as he was about the outcome (and wasn't that an admission that made him want to burn the whole district to the ground), he clearly couldn't go on like this (̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ a̶ p̶u̶r̶p̶o̶s̶e̶ a̶n̶y̶m̶o̶r̶e̶).
He forced himself to eat and shut down for a nap, resolving to go find Valentino afterwards and put an end to this one way or another.
Thanks to Velvette, he knew Val took to shutting himself into his private penthouse (that he really didn't use much anymore, they were always together at Vox's…who was he kidding. It was theirs, it didn't even look like his anymore with both of their scattered things and the redecorations that were “imperative” according to Val…). Normally after one of their spats he'd be hitting club after club. Normally Vox would be watching.
Which just confirmed that this was different.
Vox hadn't been watching him through any of his cameras for the past four days and he felt like a man starved. He itched with missing the sense of control and comfort that came with knowing at any point what his moth was up to. Yet the feeling was battling with his dread about what he would see. What if Valentino was feeling as bad as he was? What if he wasn't?
What if he didn't care?
Until a few hours ago when Velvette finally had enough. She usually stayed out of their fights, “not wasting her energy on a couple of brainless, codependent morons”. But after days of both of said morons neither getting their shit together nor ending their miserable existences so she could finally have some peace, she came up with some very colourful threats for both of her boys if they didn't choose either option and soon .
According to her, Val was wallowing in his misery just as much as Vox was (her words, not his) and Vox couldn't help that little flicker of hope deep inside his chest.
Steeling himself, he smoothed down the nonexistent wrinkles in his shirt for the 5th time in as many minutes. Opting for the elevator instead of one of his cameras he hesitated for another minute until finally pressing the button.
When the doors slid open he was greeted with 10 feet of purple skin, graceful limbs and piercing cerise eyes.
His shock lasted about a second and was then immediately replaced by the only thought his useless brain was able to procure.
Satan, he's beautiful.
~~~
As much as Valentino was tempted to just stay in this alcohol-induced haze forever, on day four he sobered up enough to be largely functional again, basically to his immediate regret, because at some point a certain social media overlord made her way into his lair of self-pity to…just hurl insults at his already throbbing head, apparently.
And then, somehow even worse, she tried to convince him that Vox was in a similarly (pitiful, lovesick) state. Yet if that was true, why was that hijo de perra not coming to him?
He didn't want to dwell on the hypocrisy of that statement and also wasn't in the mood for more of Velvette‘s lectures, so after getting rid of her he shuffled to his bathroom to finally take care of himself for the first time in days. (It was almost as if he didn't see the point of it when there wasn't the little telling red light of the camera announcing the only eyes he ever really needed on him…But no. He couldn't think like that.)
He was Valentino. He took what he needed, so maybe it was time to get back what was his…
What if he doesn't want me anymore?
Scowling, he pushed that thought down, mentally slapping himself for allowing it in in the first place.
He got to work.
When the elevator doors opened and those very eyes he craved so much to have back on him stared up into his own, he almost fell to his knees in relief.
~~~
“Val.”
“Vox.”
“I…I was just on my way to see you…”
“Took you fucking long enough.”
“Excuse me, you could have-” he broke off, heaving a deep sigh. This was already off to a good start.
“Look, I…we need to talk. Without…clawing each others eyes out. Do you think we can do that? Please?”
Ignoring the weird feeling that little word, that defeated tone of voice out of the TV demons mouth sparked in him, Val nodded before sauntering past Vox and into the living room.
Almost anyone would be fooled by that display of nonchalant confidence, but Vox knew him. Noticed the concealed tension in his posture, betraying the other demon's agitation.
Following him, he went to the bar and poured two drinks, passing one to Valentino who accepted it wordlessly before taking up his usual space on the couch (how badly Vox wanted to sit in his usual space too, that being pressed up to Val's side if not directly in his lap…). Vox sat down stiffly, fiddling with his glass, hating how his body betrayed his nerves, but also not forcing himself to stop. Since he wanted honesty, might as well go all in.
If only his usual ability of talking himself out of every situation wouldn't let him down now. But he felt completely out of his depth here; he couldn't put on his camera-ready smile, his easy confidence when dealing with the masses, couldn't hypnotize his way out of this if he fucked up. This wouldn't work here. This wasn't a bunch of faceless, nameless nobodies that didn't matter to him. It was Valentino .
Valentino, who he knew mattered to him in all the ways he didn't want to admit. He couldn't run from it anymore. Once he let the thought in, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Val knocked back his drink, hoping it would make this at least a little easier, take the edge off. If he wasn't nervous before, Vox's fidgeting would do it for sure. It was almost jarring to see the smaller man so unsure, even for Val who got to see more of him than anyone else. He decided that was a good sign. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, Vox let himself be vulnerable in a way he never would with anyone else (at least that's what Val needed to believe in order to not lose his shit. There couldn't be anyone else. Not in the way Val was, whatever that was going to be after today.).
He pulled out his cigarette and as always, albeit more tentatively this time, Vox reached out to light it for him. Somehow it felt like a first step, the beginning of a bridge between them.
Vox cleared his throat.
“So…how have you been?” What the hell. Not what he wanted to say at all.
“I don’t know, Voxxy, how do you think I've been?”
“Well, I don’t know, that’s…Velvette said-”
“Oh, that little meddling soplón has been working you too, then. You want to know what she said about you?”
“I can imagine, Val. And it is probably mostly true, this time.”
Valentino stared at him for a short moment and deflated, just slightly. They were really doing this, then. He wanted to curse the other man for his honesty, for this door he just opened. But maybe its what they owed each other, maybe for once he needed to step over the threshold. Maybe that was even what he wanted. Certainly not the alternative.
“Yes, for me, too.”
It was barely above a whisper, so uncharacteristic for the moth demon that Vox at first thought he imagined it. He sounded sincere, vulnerable.
Vox hated it. Vox loved it. Vox loved…-
“Yeah?” He could curse himself with how hopeful he sounded. He could.
“Yeah. And you’re a fucking bastard for making me feel that way.”
Vox allowed himself a small smile at that. “I could say the same about you, you know.”
“What the hell have I done?”
“Val.”
“What?” Well, there it was, his usual petulance, already beginning to recover. Perhaps they were on the right track.
“I could make a long, long list about that. But for the purpose of this conversation, I think you know.”
“I-” He hated the feeling so close to panic rising in his gut. He stomped it down, just barely. Took a long drag of his cigarette, pink smoke curling around them. Breathed. “Tell me.”
Well, fuck.
“Alright. Alright, well I…First I want to apologize.” Vox could see how badly Val wanted to give a snarky remark to that, which would probably be deserved. Not that Valentino was any better in that regard, but… “I’m sorry I said I don’t need you. That’s not true. Of course I do. It’s just what I don’t…didn’t want to admit to myself or to you. I didn’t want anyone to have that power. But you already have it, because you know, don’t you? You always knew. How couldn’t you?”
Val sucked in a harsh breath. What was happening?
“Do I? I know I act like it, but at times I’m not sure. Sometimes all of the arguments come up and I wonder…Because if you don’t want me, what’s left? I can make anyone fear me, I can make them admire, I can make them want me. But you? I don’t want you to be like them, Voxxy. I want you to see me and I don’t want to make you do anything. You…you I want freely.”
He fell silent, frozen. Disbelieving. Had he really just said all that? Him?
“I do, you stupid idiot.” The words were so full of affection, Val wanted to run. Wanted to stay forever. Hell, and he started now, why stop?
“I never cared about being a good person but I do want to be good for you. I also want to be bad for you, I can’t help that. I want to be everything for you.”
“Oh, Tino...” Unable to stop himself, from finally reaching out, finally closing that distance between them (like a moth to light), Vox took his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Don’t you realise that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me? I know how awful we can be to each other. I don’t think that will ever fully change. But I wouldn’t want anyone else and I’m glad I got to do all this with you. We built all of this together and there is so much more to come. Though maybe…that can wait for just a little while longer. We have time. The thing I don’t want to waste more time with right now is us.”
“Hell, when did you get so cheesy, cariño? Actually putting me over business as well, are you feeling quite well?” Seeing Vox’s hesitant expression he softened and squeezed his hand. “I’d like that. And I want to apologize as well. For making your life so much harder than I need to sometimes. For...Angel.”
He felt Vox’s gaze bore into him, but for once he couldn’t meet it.
“You use him to hurt me.”
“Yes.”
A simple admission, one that Vox had already known to be true, but hearing it still sent a flash of pain through him. But maybe that also meant that Angel was not the threat he sometimes made him out to be. Perhaps he was really just a tool.
When Val looked up, Vox could see the regret in his eyes.
“I will stop. I promise. I will even release him from his contract, if you want me to.”
If Vox had a jaw, it would be on the floor upon hearing that sentence he didn't think he’d ever hear out of Val’s mouth, especially not out of his own volition. It made the weird fluttering feeling in his stomach even more pronounced.
“You don’t have to do that. It’s true he makes us a lot of money, I know that. Just…don’t use him against me. And if you want him more than you do me…don’t keep me.”
“I don’t. I never did. I’m sorry you had to doubt that.”
Vox smiled and it wasn’t his usual showman smile but something so much more real and Val felt like a weight was lifted off him. He smiled back in turn, a loving, genuine smile that was reserved for one person only.
“I’m also sorry for implying I don’t appreciate your creepy stalker tendencies.”
Vox snorted. “I know you do. You love me being obsessive. Being worshipped.”
“Yes, but in that way? I’d only allow you to do that. If I found someone else putting up a camera in my bathroom I’d skin them alive.”
“Only if I didn’t get to them first.”
In a split second, Val had him by the front of his shirt and yanked him into his lap, allowing him only a quick, surprised yelp before he brought their mouths together in a messy, clashing kiss that Vox relaxed immediately into, hands grabbing onto his fluff and shoulder nothing short of desperate. Finally . The distance that had been still between them up until that point melted away until there was nothing left but the feeling of undeniable rightness, like everything clicked into place. That’s where they belonged.
When they finally separated, it was only to meet in another kiss immediately after, yet this time, it was soft, almost shy, tongues not meeting in their usual frenzy but in a gently exploring tangle. It wasn’t their normal dance, but maybe it didn’t matter because it still felt good. Still right. Maybe this could also be them.
I hate you.
“ I love you.”
He didn’t know which of them said it. It didn’t matter. He thought it was both of them.
Whispered in the miniscule space between them, tangling around them like pink cherry-scented smoke. Words that either of them could have tossed aside, dismissed, ran from like they’d done until now. They didn’t.
Val felt light, giddy. He might have felt embarrassed about it, if he didn’t feel so good. Still, when Vox slipped an eager hand under his wings to stroke at his chest while the other came up to caress his antennae, he almost sighed in relief about the familiar confidence he felt with the promise of those touches. Shooting him a grin, he nuzzled the others screen, voice a low purr. “What do you say, should we…hmm, celebrate that, mi luz?”
With an answering grin, Vox moved to straddle his partner in earnest, already rolling his hips against him in a smooth movement that made both of them gasp.
“I say, sometimes you do actually have good ideas, my love.”
“How rude. I have quite a few right about now, you’ll see. You might want to cancel all your meetings until further notice.”
“Done.”
~~~
They would go out for dinner tomorrow, maybe their favourite place that was nothing like the upscale restaurants they usually frequented these days. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d been there, just that it still existed. They made sure of that.
Maybe they would call it a date.
For now, moving into more familiar territories, Val opened the top button of Vox’s shirt. The others soon followed.