Chapter Text
Vox feels a shift in his bed. It's still dark out, he doesn't have to sit up to know Alastor is already gone.
When you're married to a man like Alastor, there are bound to be rules. From the beginning of their mutually agreed partnership that turned into a mutually agreed marriage, Alastor had made it clear there were a set of amendments to follow.
One, for example, was that Vox’s habitual touching was limited. The man was incredibly handsy and not even in a way that meant something underlyingly intimate, he simply just was. It had taken months, almost a full year, for Alastor to get used to Vox's touches. It was fine when they were still just platonic mates but after turning “friends” into a label more … special, every touch felt more purposeful. It was suffocating at first, honestly speaking, but now he more than tolerated them.
A second one for example was that following the limited touching rule, Vox wasn't allowed to kiss him. Alastor did occasionally, for lesser time it took for him to come around with Vox's touching. He liked initiating the act as much as he liked Vox's reaction every time. Then he allowed Vox to kiss him too, and he was smart not to overwhelm the deer so he didn't run away.
Needless to say that Alastor was very particular about everything. He'd never been in a relationship, let alone get so close to someone to this proximity he allowed Vox to be in. Perhaps it was Vox's patience despite his pathetic desperation. Or maybe it was his desperation period. Anyway, Alastor loved being seen by his eyes and the attention he got from him. It was so easy, so fun, each retort and each interaction. Alastor wasn't immune to his charm, much like many others and Vox was supremely patient.
They've established from the beginning as well that their relationship was between them. It was dangerous if anyone knew they saw each other in such a vulnerable light and Alastor never did like showing his cards to anyone and he never will, not before, during or after Vox. Though convenient, there are plenty of disadvantages that come after. Like the secrecy to begin with. It was hard pretending you want to kill your husband when all you can think of is dinner later that day.
Anyway, they had to live separate lives while being together. It seemed almost impossible, especially for Vox, but 60 years and counting and they're still together.
Of course with marriage comes the quarrels. Alastor wasn't too pleased to find out Vox had agreed to a partnership with their fellow overlord, Valentino, even with the benefits. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why either, but it does take Vox and all his power to keep Alastor from maiming the moth — Alastor had made it clear he'd never eat a sinner as disgusting as he was — and it was especially exhausting to deal with after the business agreement.
Unfortunately, it did make it harder for Alastor to be comfortable around the tower that used to just be Vox's work-in-progress empire. Since Valentino moved in, Alastor came and went as he pleased more often than before.
The two did have a home together, somewhere in the more woody part of Hell, somewhere just for them. Not that either of them had been there in a while. As Vox’s empire grew, so did his workload which meant he spent less time at home. Alastor was fine with it, he could always just visit his office, and it wasn't like they had to see each other the whole day every day. Vox even had a whole room built into the tower at some point so they could just stay there.
But Alastor is still a mystery to Vox even with decades worth of knowing him, and it's not just him. People who knew him longer, Mimzy, Rosie, the likes who were lucky like that, still couldn't piece his puzzles together either. Everytime Vox feels like he fully understands Alastor, he does something to make him rethink everything all over again. But no matter what, Vox can't help but feel like chasing after him for however long it takes.
The Radio Demon was far beyond an interesting person, he was a muse. Vox could only reach out and hope one day he'll grab onto something, and he's been married to him for decades. How much longer was this going to take?
Alastor is part of Vox's afterlife. A huge part. He honestly couldn't imagine never meeting Alastor. It does disappoint him a little when he wakes up and his husband is already gone before the day has started, but that's what he does.
“You know, I was thinking,” Vox starts as they're in the kitchenette area of the room. Alastor is cooking something for dinner after learning Vox had skipped all his meals since yesterday. “Maybe you could stay for breakfast tomorrow?”
Alastor turned back to Vox for a moment, pausing in his movements. “Hmm? And what ignited this conversation?”
Vox shrugs, suddenly shy under his gaze. “I don't know. I just miss you in the morning. We don't spend a lot of time together to begin with so… you know,”
A chuckle escapes Alastor's lips as he turns back to his important cooking. “You're cute, darling, but I can't miss my sunrise broadcast! Those sinners need someone to liven up their morning,”
Right. “Maybe I could… build you a radio station here?” Vox suggested, honestly unsure if that would work.
Alastor gives it a thought or two and tilts his head at the suggestion. It would be nice to spend the morning together. They rarely saw each other til the afternoon and evenings. Sometimes Alastor came back and Vox was already asleep. At his desk, but asleep.
“That seems like a sound idea, dear. I certainly wouldn't mind that prospect,” Alastor says, knowing Vox is already grinning his cheeks off.
“Great! I'll get started on it!” Vox conjures a holographic screen in front of him and eagerly starts to work, already thinking about where it would be, what it would look like, looking for contractors, the budget and such.
Alastor smiles softly at Vox's diligence. Such a sap, he often wondered why he married a man so sentimental of all the heartless monsters in Hell. Or perhaps that's why he did.
“You're always so eager. I think you should put that project aside for now and focus on me,” Alastor tutted as he turned with the pot of gumbo in his hands, setting it on a trivet on the table.
Vox’s fingers paused in mid-air, looking up at Alastor. “Huh?”
“I'll stay in the morning. I'll stay the whole day, in fact! Why don't you clear your schedule?” Alastor grins widely. Vox can't possibly say no to that!
Vox definitely can't say no, but he's a little put-off by it. Even if Alastor was as mysterious as he was, things can still feel different. “Are you mad at me?” He couldn't really tell. It's best to ask.
“No, my dear Vincent, of course not!” Alastor laughs, looking innocent as his hands folded over each other behind him. “Don't you want to spend the day together? It has been quite awfully long since we last did,”
“Of course I do! I'm just… wondering what the occasion is,” Vox retorts, the screen in front of him disappearing.
Alastor hums at his lack of simply accepting the offer, but he appreciates the persistence. “The occasion, I will tell you after the day is done,”
“That’s not how occasions work,” Vox raised a digital eyebrow.
Alastor waved a finger in front of him. “It does now! So clear your schedule before I change my mind,”
Vox huffs. “Okay, okay,” the holographic screen returns. Shame, he had an important meeting in the afternoon. Oh well.
While Vox busied himself with that, Alastor went on to take two servings of the gumbo he made, one bowl in front of Vox and the other for himself. They sat together at the kitchen island, Alastor reminding Vox to eat while he rescheduled everything he already planned meticulously days ago. Suppose Vox couldn't quite complain when he’s promised to spend an entire day with Alastor by his own words. He'd always been the clingy one between them so he'd agree no matter what and Alastor knew this.
God, the love he had for this man was insurmountable, inexpressible through words and almost unbearable. It was so embarrassing and he never could hide his pathetic infatuation with him. For some reason Alastor liked it when Vox was embarrassing, even if he chided him for it sometimes. And the way Alastor used nicknames was so smooth, Vox couldn't help but swoon every time.
Alastor was beautiful too. He was so beautiful it was unfair to all the porn stars residing in Hell. He must be such a pain to Valentino for being so sex-repulsed and, well, Alastor. His perfectly styled hair, his cute ears, his sharp chin contrasting his adorably plump cheeks, his sharp nose and his cute tail only Vox knows about and damn it if Vox loved the curve into his waist where his hands fit perfectly. Vox's eyes can't help but wander every time they get the chance to. Then Alastor would scold him for rudely staring, even as his husband.
It wasn't just his physical body, it was also his charm. His dumb, quick-wit, slightly petulant, cunning, always ten steps ahead of everyone else, egregiously smug and snarky personality. He's undeniably perfect, like someone crafted just for Vox to love and care for and burn the entire world over.
All of that, wrapped into one. To be able to call Alastor his husband was beyond his wildest dreams. Even if he couldn't spend all day with him every day of the week, even if they were both always busy, the promise of being married to each other was enough. Still, it doesn't mean he's not desperate for time with him, so he'll gladly throw everything else out of the window. He never forgets why he loves him if he just looks at him once.
“We could go down to Cannibal Town and eat at that place you like?” Vox asks as he's yelling at his assistant over text.
Alastor adores Cannibal Town. No one there asked questions, never dared to and Rosie's company was there. Also it's a town of cannibals, which obviously is Alastor's habitat. It was the only place in Hell they were okay with going out and about together as a couple and the residents were quite used to it too by now.
“That sounds delightful,” Alastor hums, feeding Vox a spoonful at the same time.
Vox takes the food in his mouth, then pauses, looking down at his bowl. “You didn't put flesh in this, did you?”
Alastor cackles, which is not a good sign.
Alastor liked resting his head on Vox's chest in bed and particularly liked it when the machine-powered demon turned up his body heat for him. Like a nightly lullaby to soothe the deer especially when it was cold and Vox, well, he loves his body flush against him like a weighted blanket. He dreaded nights without it. It also prevented him from getting up and going back to work.
Vox also learned that Alastor liked it when his ears were scratched lightly, right at the base where it connects to his head. It made him relax even more which warmed Vox's heart, or whatever he had inside him.
Strange how demons can be so gentle. Guess human nature is unrelenting even in Hell. It's a shame this will be one of the last they do this in a while.
Their morning started slowly. Alastor started up early not to leave but to make coffee for himself and his love. Vox followed about an hour later, half-asleep by the island, almost reaching his mug. Alastor flicked his antenna, trying to wake him up.
After some time put into properly waking up, Vox finally got ready for the day after making Alastor wait for so long.
“Your tardiness is one of my lesser favorite traits of yours, dear,” Alastor comments as Vox is straightening his suit. If his eyes dragged up and down, he's glad Vox didn't say anything despite having a clear view of him in the reflection of the standing mirror.
“You like me clean and polished,” Vox shoots back with a smirk, turning around to face him.
Alastor sighs, getting up from the bed and walking over to his clumsy husband. “I do, but you're still messy,” he says, fixing his tie.
“Hm, and maybe that's because I want you this close to fix my mistakes?” Vox grins at the proximity. “Can't help yourself, can you, Mr. Perfect?”
Alastor rolls his eyes playfully. “You're a child,” he scoffs but doesn't pull away when Vox's screen leans in, briefly pecking his lips.
“But it works,” Vox chuckles, hand going up to hold Alastor by his chin, thumb carefully caressing his bottom lip. Beautiful.
They arrive at Cannibal Town in a flash of electricity that surged throughout their bodies. Alastor looks around at the change of scenery. “Eager?”
Vox shrugs, hand falling to his side. “Didn’t wanna keep you waiting any longer,”
Alastor's arm hooks onto Vox's, the latter automatically slinging his arm into the right position. “I appreciate it, dear. Let's visit Rosie first, shall we?”
It was routine. Every time they came to Cannibal Town, they had to send their greetings to Rosie before anything else. Other than the fact that the town was her literal territory, Alastor's soul was bound to her (not that Vincent knew). Also it would be rude to strut around town and not let her know.
“Oh, my darling sweethearts!” Rosie sees them the moment the bell rings when they step in. Her creepy grin made its appearance as she approached them. “What brings you here today?”
“Vox suddenly had an empty plate to fill! And I happened to be free as well,” Alastor replies with his jaunty attitude.
“Ooooh~ so you're on a date now?” Rosie cheekily teased them. “And here I thought you were here to visit little old me,”
Vox didn't understand the nature of Alastor and Rosie's relationship. They never told him how they met and when he asked — and he asked plenty of times — they always laughed it off like it was a secret to share between them. So he stopped asking but could sort of see how they became friends. They were similar in character and taste, not just their cannibalistic tastebuds.
Afterwards the two lovers strolled around the town, seeing new shops that opened since they last visited, exploring a new area being built with the rising population and talking about anything that came to mind. They found a place to sit, on a bench in the one lovely park Cannibal Town had that didn't have corpses and carcasses scattered around. Wasted leftovers, Alastor always complained.
“I made sure to reserve a table for us later,” Vox sighs, relaxing against the bench, his hand in Alastor's as the deer rested his head on his shoulder.
“Good. I do hate to wait,” Alastor murmurs, taking in the comfortable position they were in.
“I know you do,” Vox smiles, looking down at him a little. He then opened a new topic of conversation, always filling the silence between them.
“Vincent, you chatterbox, you never know how to just simply enjoy a moment, do you?” Alastor breathes out a huff of laughter hearing Vox suddenly talk about statistics or random facts.
Vox paused, but snickers after. “Alright, alright, I'm sorry,” he shuts his mouth, looking out at nature in front of them.
Red grass Vox still didn't know whether it was natural in Hell or the aftermath of slaughter, creaking trees straight out of a set of a horror movie and strange flying creatures that mimicked Earth’s birds. Albeit, the moment Alastor spoke of was there, gentle amidst the chaos that happened everywhere else. Between them, it was peace where peace shouldn't be. It was nice.
Alastor picked up on Vox's calm static like it was a cat's gentle purring. “It's nice, isn't it? What have I always told you about stopping to smell the flowers, hm?”
Vox laughs. “Okay, I get it. It is nice,” and it wasn't the atmosphere of the park or the privacy they had. It was Alastor's presence.
All their bickering, all their quarrelling, all their childish fighting and petty insults, all for moments like this. Vox loves Alastor so deeply that the decades they've been together weren't enough to show it.
As the day darkened and the lights in the park turned on, Alastor shifted and sat up straight. “Dinner?”
Vox blinks himself awake, having almost dozed off. “Huh?” He sits up as well, rubbing his face. “Ah. Oh, yeah. We should be going now,”
Alastor laughs. “You'll have plenty of time to sleep when we get home, darling,”
“Yeah, and I'm not letting Rosie's finger food be the last thing I eat today,” Vox muttered, which made Alastor laugh again.
What a good day off.
The moment they get home, Vox hurries Alastor to the bathroom. They get ready for bed together, brushing their teeth, Vox's hands cheekily wandering and snaking around Alastor's waist as they do. Alastor washed his face and wiped Vox's screen clean, afterwards placing a kiss to where his cheek should be.
They settled under the covers like usual, Alastor's head on Vox's warming chest and Vox's hand coming up to scratch behind Alastor's ear. The familiar humming of Vox's body working the heating and purring of Alastor static enjoying the gentle scratches.
Alastor wakes up early, earlier than Vincent, earlier than even he himself usually does. He has a purpose. A reason.
Since allowing Vincent into his heart, if Alastor even had one to begin with, he had grown weak. Alastor of course knows it comes with sentiment, it comes with all the gentle ways Vincent looks at him and touches him. It comes with the affection he receives and gives, the love they share. Only fools allowed these things. Alastor for the longest time swore to himself that he would never succumb to anything so detrimental to his pride. Then came Vincent.
Vincent with his heart eyes, flattering words and riveting conversation, his charming ambition and acceptable dancing. The stupid picture box managed to woo Alastor over and the man thought he had gotten rid of all his emotions years ago.
Alastor sits up in the bed, blanket pooled around his waist as he propped himself up with his hands. He looked down at Vincent, his screen was off but his body was breathing and still warm. He shouldn't dwell for so long.
With much hesitance, Alastor slips out of bed quietly, changing his clothes into his usual attire. It's not even 3am, he only managed a few hours of sleep but he's more energized than he would be with caffeine in his system. No, he's running on pure nervous energy. His hands shook even as he gripped his staff tightly. He feels his static going haywire and his body going numb.
“Al?” Vincent's voice is made clear amidst his panic.
Alastor pales when he looks back at Vincent sitting up in bed. Poor thing. He must've been confused from the lack of his weight on him.
Vincent gets out of bed and goes to him, though sleepily. His eyes are still half closed and Alastor can tell he's a bit dizzy from standing up a second too fast when he approaches, which makes Alastor amused and relax slightly.
Alastor's face is shining with Vincent's screen in front of his face. His silly picture box yawns, eyes watering. “Why are you up so early?”
There's the question that reminds Alastor of what he needs to do. “I have to go,” he says, though heavy, is lightened just because Vincent looked adorably endearing in the moment.
“What?” Vincent furrows his eyebrows, eyes still squinted. “No, no, come back to bed. It's too early for your broadcast,” he murmurs, taking Alastor's hand.
Alastor lets out a chuckle, trying to convince himself this wasn't the hardest thing he had to do in a long time. He tugs his hand back from Vincent gently, then steadies Vincent when he swayed. “No, sweetheart, I have to go,”
“Al, don't fight me on this,” Vincent groans, rubbing one eye.
“Vincent,” Alastor grabs hold of one of Vincent's shoulders firmly, grounding him and himself. “I'm leaving,”
Vincent blinks his eyes a few times, trying to wake up properly. Maybe he can convince Alastor to stay until morning again. “One more morning. Just stay until breakfast at least,” he pleads.
“I can't, dear,” Alastor responds gently.
Vincent huffs like a child, eyes a little wider now. “You definitely can,” he continues to fight. He must think this will turn into another lovers’ spat.
Alastor smiles wider. Not the kind that's sinister with an ulterior motive but the kind that Alastor makes when he's softening. “I must. This is goodbye for now,” he holds Vincent by the sides of his screen.
Vincent froze, expression falling. “What?” He didn't like the tone Alastor spoke in, something so gently serious it almost made his circuits explode.
Alastor can only laugh. Anything else was grounds for an outburst of emotion he didn't want to show right now. “My silly man,” he leans in and kisses his glass cheek. “I will return to you soon enough, I promise,”
“No. What are you talking about?” Vincent hadn't even registered the distracted kiss, too focused on Alastor's words. “Al?” his hand holds his, still on the side of his screen. His eyes are darting between Alastor's own like he was trying to read his mind.
Alastor's hands pull away from his head. When Alastor pulls away, Vincent pulls away, it's instinctual from Vincent letting Alastor tell him when he doesn't want to be touched. But then Alastor's hand takes Vincent's and he guides him back to bed. He motions for Vincent to lay back down and he does, head against he headrest, eyes never leaving Alastor for a second like the man will disappear in the blink of an eye.
Alastor sat at the edge of the bed, looking out the large window in the room that overlooked the city. It's quiet at night. No explosions or screaming and the height of the tower helped too. They were closer to the clouds, in which snow started to fall from. The seasons were changing.
Vincent tugs at Alastor's sleeve, silently asking him to lay down with him. God, does Alastor want to. Even with those eyes begging for him, Alastor's bound soul is stronger than what he wants.
“I'm sorry, my love,” Alastor stands up, nevermind the way Vincent's hand fell to the bed.
And with a blink of an eye Vox suspected, Alastor was gone. Vox was breathing again, not realizing he was holding it in this whole time. Alastor will return later that day like usual. The burdensome of his words didn't mean anything. Did it?
Vox looks outside where the snow is falling. It's beautiful. As beautiful as Alastor was? No. But it was beautiful.
He notes the time. 3am on a Tuesday.
Alastor will return in a few hours. They'll have jambalaya for dinner and dance to a song. Alastor will play on the piano for a while whilst Vox works the last of his paperwork and they'll go to bed again. None of that felt right.
His heart was burning. Was this the occasion?
Instead of thinking any further, Vox swallows down the heavy feeling he feels on his chest and settles under the blanket, resting his head on the pillow. His body is colder than it should be but he doesn't feel like heating his body up again. He only ever did it for Alastor's comfort anyway.
Alastor is gone for a week.