Adult Content Warning
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Summary
Despite what Alastor just said about wanting to observe, he immediately looks off to the side and keeps his eyes on the floor until Vox pointedly slams the detached piece onto the nearest empty shelf. It rolls a few inches away from him.
“There. It’s off. Happy?”
Alastor refocuses, first on Vox’s glowering face and then lower down. And just for a second, the mask slips. His smile remains in place, but a soft breath escapes. He takes a tentative step closer.
“That,” Alastor says, in a very different tone than before. “Could your surgeons construct something similar to that on a flesh-and-blood body?”
“That being… nothing.”
“Precisely.” For the first time tonight, Vox hears a hungry, covetous edge to his voice. “Nothing at all.”Vox has attained a bodily state Alastor thought unrealizable. The humbling ordeal of asking for and then receiving the same will ultimately sand down both their rough edges—at least in relation to one another. (Post–season 2 fic)