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He should be happy right now.
Alastor sat at the low-quality bar in the lobby of the hotel. The stool beneath him creaked as he tried to awkwardly adjust. The spider draped across his lap giggles at his confused expression, but doesn't offer an explanation.
I should be happy right now, he thinks to himself. He is not happy.
He couldn't ignore the way Anthony kept glancing over at the bartender. He'd look until the other looked up before pressing himself closer to Alastor's chest. Despite the way he giggled at his jokes and seemed to encourage the hand on his waist, Anthony's attention was never on him.
Alastor felt a pain in his heart.
"What do you want, Angel?" The cat asks, setting down the dry glass on the counter. He doesn't register Anthony's response. Doesn't even acknowledge his real name, Alastor thinks bitterly, shooting Husk a glare when he bends down to grab the bottle.
Anthony takes a sip of whatever drink he ordered, turning back to Alastor. He leans his head on his shoulder, slim fingers reaching up to pop open one of the buttons of Alastor's undershirt. The man tenses, feeling cool air hit skin dangerously close to the scar across his chest.
He gets lucky when the other man draws his hand away, waving for Husk to get Alastor another drink.
"Oh, I don't need another, dear." He says, making sure his voice doesn't shake.
"Nonsense, baby." Anthony laughs, bringing the new glass up to Alastor's lips. He hesitantly takes a sip, plucking the glass from the other's hands and setting it back down on the counter.
Finally making a decision, Alastor slips out from beneath Anthony, setting him down on the stool.
"I'm sorry to leave so soon, but I've got some business to attend to." Alastor states, buttoning his shirt back up and dusting off his clothing. A nod is sent their way before the deer walks out the doors.
Alastor sharply inhales once the doors shut. He regains his composure after a few seconds, deciding to get a proper drink. His steps seem slightly harsher than normal, pace quicker.
It doesn't take long to arrive at a bar. He feels a rare sense of comfort at the sight. He hadn't been in such a long time, too busy dealing with the hotel. The bartender waves in acknowledgement as he enters.
He automatically steers to his normal spot, where a worker he vaguely recognized was sitting down his normal drink.
"Thank you, dear." He smiles, sliding into the seat. Alastor leaned back against the cushion of the booth, closing his eyes as he listens to the pianist play. It was a tune that sounded like it was from the 50's, but he decided he enjoyed it nonetheless.
He sits in that booth for an hour, consuming drink after drink. The hour was long enough for the pianist to leave, the empty space on stage now taken up by a comedian making jokes. Alastor didn't quite get them, the only people laughing in the crowd being a newer generation.
He hears shuffling across from him, opening an eye. He has to stop himself from gasping, not expecting to see his public rival in front of him.
Vox just sits, not speaking. Alastor can't help but notice he buys the same drink he did all those years ago when their visits to this bar were full of laughter. He almost flinches at the thought of them both drinking their old regulars, sitting in the same spot they'd spent so much of their time.
"You look like shit." The television eventually states, breaking the silence that had lasted through multiple drinks. Vox looks towards the comedian, a hollow laugh escaping his speakers.
"Real shitty guy, yeah? He's not going too far." He chuckles, looking hopefully up at Alastor.
Alastor's heart aches, just like it had earlier with Anthony.
"Mhm." He hums in response, taking a drink from his half-empty glass. Alastor stares, taking in Vox's appearance. He looked so much different than he had all those years ago. That vulnerable smile seemed to be the only thing that hadn't changed.
His pretty smile.
He shakes away the thought, downing the rest of his glass.
"Look.." Vox starts, turning fully to Alastor. His eyes shift down to his own glass, recently refilled. "I know we hate each other and everything, but can we just get along for tonight?" He asks, voice quiet. "Today's been real shitty.." He mutters under his breath.
Alastor doesn't respond for a long while, eyes widened in surprise. When he realizes Vox is serious, he nods.
The night goes on almost exactly how it used to. They sat for hours, laughing and making fun of other people. Drinks come and go quickly, neither of them questioning why the other was drinking much more than normal.
Eventually, the night drags to a close. the bar closes and they're left on the broken sidewalk outside of the bar.
"Go home with me." The television says, taking Alastor's hands in his. The grip is tight, as if he was making sure he wouldn't be left.
"You know i-" Alastor is cut off by Vox squeezing his hand harder.
"Not like that, dipshit." He hisses, rolling his eyes. They soften before he continues. "I don't want to be alone." He quietly mumbles, just barely loud enough for alastor to hear.
He nods, not wanting to embarrass the other. He quite liked him when he was drunk and not rambling about those other V's. Alastor had never liked Valentino.
He pretends he doesn't notice when Vox intertwines their fingers. However, he can't pretend he doesn't notice that he's being led in the opposite direction of the V Tower.
"Wh-"
"They pissed me off." Vox mutters, interrupting alastor's words. Normally, he'd insult him for interrupting, but he keeps his mouth shut. The television squeezes his hand, eyes drifting to alastor's tail wiggling back and forth.
It's not mentioned, much to his relief. He lets his guard down a little, leaning against the other man. Alastor winces as his heart seems to burst in his chest. The physical touch he'd normally hate felt good. He didn't want to pull away and tear apart whoever was touching him.
His thoughts are cut off as they make it to the hotel. He sighs, involuntarily squeezes Vox's hand when he hears Anthony's laugh. He composes himself quickly, wrapping an arm around Vox. The blue screen flickers for a moment, his surprise evident as a blush appears.
"Uh- i'm not too sure where your room is, Al." Vox says with an awkward chuckle, hand slipping around Alastor's waist. The deer shivers at the touch, a blush starting to cover his cheeks.
Anthony and Husk's conversation immediately stops as Vox's voice echos through the lobby. They stare at the display in front of them, a drunken radio demon leaning against his worst enemy, both blushing. Anthony has no time to make a sly comment, cut off by a harsh glare from the television as the two overlords seem to carry each other away to the hallway.
Alastor sits down on the edge of the bed as soon as they enter, groaning.
"You're so into him, and he's so not into you." Vox laughs, playfully pushing the other. He sits down next to him, legs pressed together from how close they are.
He can't handle it anymore. Before Alastor can realize what his body's doing, he's pressed against Vox. He can taste the heavy liquor the overlord had been drinking. There's an underlying salty taste to Vox, but he can't help but want more.
Apparently, Vox is much more sober than he is. Hands in his hair dig into his skin and pull them apart. Alastor's hands grip the fabric of the television's suit.
"You don't mean it." He hisses. the tone opposing his actions, hands gently guiding Alastor away. He stands, pulling off all clothing covering his torso. He moves to the other side of the bed, sliding beneath the covers.
Alastor's frozen in place. He'd just been rejected. No, he'd just been rejected by the man who he knew had a crush on him. That crush was what had caused Vox to seemingly go crazy in the past, the one thing that fueled their rivalry throughout everything.
He's right, though. He had been imagining it was Anthony who he was kissing.
He groans, slipping into bed despite being fully dressed. The fabric of his suit and undershirt seem to scratch uncomfortably at his skin, but he doesn't move.
He'd embarrassed himself in front of his worst enemy. He'd been weak enough to show his real emotions. He'd shown that man his greatest weakness.
Alastor can't help but wish Vox hadn't pushed him away. He wished his delusion hadn't been shattered to bits. The uncharacteristic bliss he'd felt in those few seconds of them being melded together had been addicting. The image of kissing Anthony…
It was Vox. He tries to remind himself. It was Vox you kissed.
It finally dawns on him. Him and vox had kissed. No, he initiated a kiss with vox.
Anthony had seen him with Vox.
His eyes shifted to a mirror, angled just enough Alastor could barely see himself in the reflection. He'd dealt with this before, years ago when the man in his bed had been human.
Back then, Vincent had laughed in his face when Alastor had made a joke about having a crush, just to test the waters. Alastor had to deal with loving a man who'd never love him back for the rest of his years alive. He had to see the man who'd shattered his heart be displayed on every news site, every game show, in the credits of every new movie.
Much like now, where he seemed to see Anthony everywhere.
He sighed, shutting his eyes and nuzzling against the pillow. He ignores the feeling of Vox pressed up against his back.
As Alastor drifted off, he finally accepted that his love will forever be unrequited, no matter who it may be.