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1.
Vox was mesmerized, absolutely fucking enthralled, and he couldn’t even pretend otherwise. All he could do was try and not drool over the table in front of him. Which he managed, just barely.
Safe to say, this was not how he expected this business meeting to go. Because, and he needed to remind himself of that, he was in fact here on business. Maybe I should have expected this , he mused while his eyes were still transfixed onto the stage in front of him. The stage, and the strangely alluring and undeniably beautiful demon currently commanding it and its audience.
After all, he was meeting an upcoming club-owner who specialised in all things passion and lust. The suggested meeting place at one of his nightclubs was not entirely surprising if slightly less professional than Vox was used to. But this definitely wasn't on his bingo card for tonight. Nor was the bulge in his pants that got harder and harder to ignore.
His meeting partner in question still worked the pole in the center of the stage expertly, with an easy grace, mile-long limbs gripping the pole and framing his body teasingly. Vox felt hot under the collar. He was so fucked.
Finally (or disappointingly), the show ended and the tall moth demon said his goodbye to the crowd with a flurry of kisses, beautiful wings trailing after him as he disappeared backstage. Vox leaned back in his seat, fans whirring in an effort to cool him down, which worked only partially. Not entirely sure what he was supposed to do now, if he should wait here, he was soon enough approached by a small, mouse-like demon who informed him that Mr. Valentino was ready to meet him. Vox would have preferred to allow his body to…calm down a bit first but the sinner was already making their way through the crowd and Vox reluctantly followed, subtly adjusting his pants, which didn't exactly help much. He just had to hope that his prospective partner was too interested in his screen to notice what was going on further down.
Arriving at their destination, a door swung open to reveal not an office, but a dressing room. Before Vox had time to take all of the flashily decorated room in, the sharp click of heels announced the tall moth demon, sauntering out of what appeared to be an adjoining bathroom. He had changed, the little shorts and cropped shirt of his stage outfit exchanged for white bell-bottoms and a silky, expensive-looking shirt that had the buttons undone almost all the way down, revealing a golden nipple chain. Somehow, he looked even better in this. Vox swallowed, dimly wondering if this was what qualified as business attire for the other man.
“Mr. Vox, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”
He shouldn't have that kind of reaction to those words, after all it's not the first time he heard him, he's seen some of his material before (research, of course). But nothing could prepare him for hearing him in the same room as Vox, speaking to him only, the sultry, purring voice and accent that did more for him than he'd ever care to admit. Managing to catch himself before he got too obvious, he cleared his throat and extended a hand. “Mr. Valentino, the pleasure's all mine.”
For some reason, the other demon looked delighted, accepting his handshake and, Vox noted, holding on just a moment longer than strictly necessary.
“Please, call me Val. We're among friends here, no?”
Again, fucked .
“That remains to be seen, but I certainly hope so.”
Valentino chuckled, the sound shooting straight to Vox's dick, curse his treacherous body. “Oh, I think we'll get along perfectly, papi.”
Now, Vox would absolutely deny that he short-circuited at that, but by the way Valentino cocked his head and looked at him with half-interest and half-amusement, the effect of his words definitely weren't lost on him. Shit .
With a playful glint in his eye, he gestured to the plush couch in the center of the room. “Please, have a seat. Can I offer you anything to drink? I can get you almost anything you wish and top-quality only, of course.”
Vox should really tell him off, for being so informal, remind him just who he was talking to, but all he managed was numbly sitting down and coming up with a rather clipped reply. “Whiskey.”
“Not the most interesting choice, but then I do suppose it suits you.”
Processing the words for a second, Vox bristled and opened his mouth to finally give a rebuke, but was cut off by that stupid, sexy voice. “Ah, calm down, I didn't mean it like that. Take it as a compliment, papi.”
The only reason Vox didn't jump out of his seat and get out was the fact that he sounded sincere. That's what he told himself. It had absolutely nothing to do with Val's fingers brushing up against his when he passed him his drink. With the frankly inappropriate closeness Val chose as he sat next to him. That infuriating smile which seemed to always teeter on the edge of mocking.
This was fine. He was fine.
The brief touch to his thigh that seemed to burn through the fabric of his slacks and into his skin, gluing him in place.
…this was going to be a long, long evening.
2.
He honestly didn’t think it would work out this way. If you pressed Vox for an honest answer, he would tell you that he thought the business partnership with Valentino would either not happen at all or go on for a couple weeks at the most, after which he fully intended to fuck him over and reap the benefits and probably get rid of Val in the process.
You could say what happened instead was that he fucked him over and over again .
Their partnership was going strong for over two months now and Vox didn’t, as he wrongly suspected, have any reason to end it yet. Quite the contrary, it was going way better than he could ever have predicted. Sure, dealing with Val was sometimes a challenge, but he knew he wasn’t much better, not that he’d admit it. But, despite their sometimes pretty explosive disagreements, they overall worked pretty well with each other.
Possibly that was due to the other kind of arrangement they had going on.
Vox resisted for a commendable 10 days until he gave in to the moth’s advances and their frankly irrefutable sexual tension. Since then, their less than informal encounters occurred almost every day, always ending up on any available surfaces in either of their domains, always disguised as a business meeting. They for sure had lots of business to talk about too, but sometimes it went to the backburner very quickly or was in fact entirely forgotten.
Today, Vox picked a nice restaurant for them to meet at, in hopes of getting at least some things done before the night ended, inevitably, with him on his back and an enormous moth between his legs. It worked, at least for now. They got through their food, multiple drinks and contract changes they needed to discuss without him getting too distracted by the moth’s choice of dress today, which was, if you asked him, too tight and too short for this kind of setting (or, more closer to the truth, he thought he looked absolutely stunning).
After a while though, Valentino leaned back in his chair, clearly done with business talk if the foot travelling up Vox’s leg was any indication. Thankfully their lower halves were hidden from sight from other guests.
“You look less pent up than usual today.”
Surprisingly, Val was right. Vox did feel at ease, for once not worrying about everything he still needed to do, shoulders not as tense as they usually were after days of back-to-back meetings and seemingly never-ending work. He felt pleasantly buzzed, from the drinks and the company both. Maybe it should worry him, how quick he was to let his guard down around his business partner, at least in comparison to…well, anyone else. Maybe it did, sometimes when he dwelled a bit too long on it, but not tonight.
The boot-clad foot trailed up higher as Val leaned closer to him.
“I told you I was good. A few weeks with me and you’re already more relaxed, hm?”
“I don’t know about that. You can be quite a handful.”
“Oh, don’t I know it.” He flashed him an obnoxious smirk and Vox couldn’t help rolling his eyes at him (he also shouldn’t dwell on the fact that Val killed other people for less than that).
“And yet, I can see it. It’s a good look on you, querido.”
Vox felt his treacherous screen blush before he could stop it and Vals smirk widened, although it changed to something more genuine.
“You’re adorable.”
Unfortunately, since Vox attempted to hide behind his glass, he spat the sip he’d just taken right back out and almost dropped the glass in the process, too.
“You…what the fuck, Val? You can’t say shit like that!”
The other demon just chuckled, unfazed.
“Especially not in public!”
“Well, I just did, and no one heard, so calm down. You want to get out of here?”
“Yes. But you’re not getting any tonight, I promise you.”
“Hmmhm. Of course not.”
“I mean it.”
“Sure you do.” Sprawling sensually on his chair, he slid his foot higher and pressed the heel down on the very obvious bulge in the TV demons pants and Vox knew he had lost. Again.
3.
Vox paced Val’s living room, checking the time for what felt like the 50th time. Maybe it was. He didn’t understand what could take so long. And why one couldn’t just be ready on time . Already arriving 30 minutes later than he usually would've, that apparently still wasn’t enough time for the moth demon.
They were headed to the annual overlord gala and Val, the newest overlord as of a month ago apparently thought he needed to make a special entrance. Not that Vox minded the opinions of their fellow overlords all that much, but there were some connections and business deals he wanted to make this evening and at these galas, everyone was usually at least a bit more amiable. Now, there shouldn’t be a reason why they couldn’t just go there separately, but, as was usually the case as of late, they were an almost inseparable force. So much so that his assistant asked where Vox and Mr. Valentino should be picked up by Vox’s driver. Maybe he should fire the presumptuous fucker, but then again, he had to admit he had a point. Well, he reasoned, he couldn’t let Val go there alone, he’d probably manage to antagonize everyone in the immediate vicinity within 5 minutes of arrival. So, Vox needed to keep an eye on him, because seeing as they were business partners, it would reflect badly upon him as well.
After 5 more minutes, Vox finally had enough and he knocked on the bathroom door impatiently.
“Val! Come on, what’s taking so long?”
“I told you before, one can’t rush perfection!”
“Oh for fucks sake, I’m sure you look perfectly fine already.”
“Well, for some people ‘perfectly fine’ is an insult. Now shut up, I’m almost done.”
Despite some scepticism on the TV demon’s side, the bathroom door indeed opened 2 minutes later and Vox felt his eyes widen, unable to do anything else than stare the other demon up and down. Instead of his usual skimpy dresses and shirts that showed more chest than they covered anything, tonight he wore a sleek, form-fitted, floor-length evening gown. It was almost modest, especially for Valentino, even his arms covered by matching gloves. Only a thigh-high slit on one side of the dress showed his purple skin and his usual fishnet stockings from where his tight stiletto boots ended just above the knee.
Eventually he was taken out of his thoughts by a deep chuckle.
“Hmm, what do you say, papi? By the looks of it, it was worth the wait.”
Vox didn’t even try and be casual about it. He didn’t think he could.
“You…you look absolutely…” coming up with nothing that felt like it truly described how beautiful he thought he looked, he fell silent again. This man really turned him into a full-blown imbecile, even after months of knowing him.
Val hummed, seemingly satisfied by Vox’s loss for words and turned around.
“I need your help though. Zip me up, will you? I can’t reach the top part there.”
Vox knew that was absolutely a lie. What did he have four arms for? Nevertheless, his feet walked him over to the taller overlord almost on their own accord, because who was he to refuse? Careful not to damage the expensive fabric with his sharp claws, he closed the dress, hands ghosting over Val’s back before they settled on his hips as he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss on his spine, just where his wings began.
“Perfect.”
Val shivered slightly, turning in Vox’s arms with a smile.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, papi.” He reached out, adjusted Vox’s bowtie and smoothed down the fabric on his chest. As always the more understated counterpart to Val, Vox opted for a classic, perfectly fitted black tux. “These bitches won’t know what hit them.”
“Well, aren’t you the picture of confidence?”
“And why wouldn’t I be? Are you saying you are nervous?”
"No. But I went to a few of these things before.”
“Pfft, what should happen? Besides, I have you by my side, mi luz.”
Vox felt something tug in his chest, a sensation he wasn’t entirely sure he appreciated and one he certainly didn’t care to give a name to.
“That…that one’s new.”
“Hm?”
“The name.”
“Oh, si. It fits though, doesn’t it?”
We fit, Vox thought, but didn't say. Instead he only smiled. “I suppose it does.”
Val lifted his screen in an entirely too fond gesture and pulled him into a tender kiss.
“Come on, let’s go.” He took hold of Vox’s hand and pulled him out the door, and while Vox will let go once they arrive, on the ride to the gala he allowed himself to hold on for just a little while.
+1
It was usually about once a week that Valentino tried to convince Vox to accompany him to one of his clubs and Vox usually refused, minus a few exceptions. Today was one of those days.
As always, it began with the same old dance. Val was finished up with the shoot of the day or whatever else he’d been doing and came sauntering into Vox’s office, his secretary not even trying to stop him anymore as it was either fruitless or ended up with a bullet lodged in her forehead. He came up to his partner's desk, perched on the side and leaned into Vox’s space.
“Come to the club with me today.”
“Not today, Val, I’m busy.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“Well most of the time I have a lot to do.”
“You need to relax sometimes too.”
“I am.”
“Come on, you never spend any time with me anymore, Voxxy.”
He expected for their usual back-and-forth to end and for Val to go out with a roll of his eyes, leaving Vox with yet another late evening of work and the footage of the latest, improved VoxTec cameras spread around Val’s club to keep an eye on, but this gave him a pause. It was Val’s usual flirtatious, slightly pouty tone but Vox knew him well enough to recognise the genuine feeling in there. And maybe he had a point. Ever since their empire started expanding rapidly a couple of years ago, the time they spent together got less and less and the little time they had was usually used for quick, in-between fucks. Sometimes a rare dinner if Vox actually stopped working before it was already night and Val wasn't at a club or a late-night-shoot yet. Although he currently couldn't remember when the last of those instances was. He also realised how much he missed it. Making a decision, he put his hand on Val's knee, squeezing lightly.
“You're right. But how about we don't go out? We could order some food and have a night in, just the two of us.”
His partner snorted. “Okay, grandpa. We can do that.”
Vox honestly expected more resistance, but Val looked genuinely happy about the suggestion.
“We can also still dance if you want. Just give me an hour to finish up, okay?”
“Alright. My place?”
“Yeah.”
Val shot him one last smile and with a quick caress to his screen, he exited his office.
An hour later, Vox entered Val's place as promised, nice bottle of wine in hand and in a casual outfit he'd never let anyone but Val see him in. The penthouse’s lights were dimmed and soft music was playing and Vox already felt himself relax. He knew why they usually chose Val’s place, as it was way more comfortably furnished than Vox’s, which was sleeker, designed more for functionality than comfort. Maybe he should change that in his penthouse in the new tower he was currently planning, a place where both his and Val’s businesses and living spaces would be in the same building. Or maybe he shouldn’t do that and use it as an excuse to be around the moth’s space more. Not that he ever really needed one, as Valentino always welcomed him readily into his space. Now, he came out of his bedroom to greet Vox, taking the wine bottle in possession and pulling him into a kiss that in Vox’s opinion was way too short, but, knowing them it would only escalate if they let it deepen and then he knew what they would end up doing the whole evening and that’s not what he wanted. At least not yet. So he let Val push him onto his plush couch and accepted the glass of wine he gave him a minute later.
“So, WackDonald’s?”
Vox chuckled. “Yeah, alright.”
They ordered the food and put a stupid reality show on, as they usually did when they hung out and stayed in. When their order arrived they tore into the food as if they’d been on the brink of starving, destroying everything in a matter of minutes. Afterwards, Vox sank into the couch cushions contently.
“It’s been way too long since we did that.”
“And who’s fault is that, hm?”
Vox sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I’ll try to be better.”
“Sure, that doesn’t sound like an empty promise at all.”
“It’s not. Okay? I swear I’m gonna try and make more time. I miss hanging out like this.”
“Alright Voxxy, I’ll hold you to it.”
Vox smiled and for a while, they just watched the show in companionable silence, sharing Val’s cigarette and the wine between them, the moth propping up his feet in Vox’s lap. Secretly, the TV demon was pleased that Val apparently missed this just as much, although he stopped short from reading any deeper into it.
When the next episode ended, Vox turned the TV off and, ignoring the outraged protest, shoved Val’s feet off his lap to stand up.
“What are you doing?”
“I recall I promised something earlier.” He turned the music back on and a soft, slow tune filled the room as he moved in front of Val and held out his hand. “So, will you honor me with a dance, sweetheart?”
Val scoffed and took his hand. Vox pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“You're such an old man.”
It didn't escape Vox how Val kept his face away from him. A grin started to split his face.
“And you're flustered.”
Val spluttered. “Excuse me? I-I'm not flustered. Fuck you!”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
“Why would I be flustered, asshole?”
Vox reached out, sharp claws cupping the others chin softly, turning his face to him. A dark purple blush dusted the moth's face.
“I don't know. You tell me.”
Val blinked up at him and Vox could easily get lost in those red eyes forever.
“I promise you wouldn’t want me to.”
He was right, of course. If Vox really tried not to lie to both of them, he could probably read the answer very easily from his partner's face, from the way they were so comfortable with each other, the way they missed each other despite seeing each other almost every day, just too often not in the way they wanted. Both of them wanted to keep that lie though. It was how they worked.
So he pulled Val to his feet instead, and, moving them to the middle of the room, put the hand that wasn’t entangled with Val’s on the moth's hip. Val’s upper two arms came up around Vox’s shoulders and his free lower hand caressed Vox’s side and wasn’t it just unfair that Val could touch so much of him all at once while Vox always craved to be able to touch more of Val.
Like that, they swayed to the music for a long time, pushing down the unfamiliarity of unspoken feelings down in favour of the familiarity of being in each other's arms.