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Vox was sitting at the bar, gripping his drink in one hand and holding on to the counter with the other. Alastor was in a seated squat, balancing on the short back of Vox's barstool, one hand holding on to Vox's shoulder for stability, while his other hand tugged at Vox's antenna, releasing it with a twang. It sprung back into place, tickling Vox, who couldn't help but giggle.
“Are you sure I'm not bothering you too much?” Alastor checked in. Vox could hear the smile in Alastor's voice, the genuine kind he rarely encountered until Al was already a few drinks in.
“Not at all!” Vox quickly reassured, not wanting Alastor to stop, even if some of Alastor's tugging was a bit rough.
Vox felt Alastor pinch the base of an antenna between two fingertips, sliding them upwards against the smooth metal. Vox tensed up, static rushing across his face. That felt intense. Blushing, he gripped his drink tighter.
“Fascinating!” Alastor mused. He brushed a finger carefully along the seam of Vox’s head where the front and back of the TV’s casing met. It felt like a finger softly tracing around Vox's face.
“Would I be able to get a look inside? Your technology is a bit modern for my tastes, but I'm curious what kind of capacitors you have.”
Vox blushed harder. He hoped he wasn't really too modern for Alastor's tastes. He hoped it was just more of Alastor's teasing. It must be. Vox is very tastefully modern.
“Actually, my circuitry is a unique blend of wiring and blood vessels, so unless you're a brain surgeon…”
“Hmm, I suppose your inner workings will just have to remain a mystery,” Alastor sighed loudly.
“Ha, yeah,” Vox said. “No cracking my head open today! Not even for you, Al.”
Alastor flicked Vox's antenna, hard.
“Ow!” Vox yelped.
“What did I tell you about flirting with me, hmm? How unsavory,” Alastor scolded, hopping down from behind Vox and getting back to his barstool next to him.
Vox grumbled and pouted, but couldn't help but notice Alastor had kept his tone playful and hadn't actually left him.
“You like it,” Vox decided, offering Alastor a smug grin.
“Clearly, your head is full of vacuum tubes, my friend,” Alastor retorted, waving a hand dismissively before downing the rest of his drink.
“Are you calling me empty-headed or outdated?” Vox asked with a frown.
Alastor grinned.
“Both!”