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It’s like an alarm sounding off in the distance: there is something wrong there is something wrong there is something wrong there is something wrong wrong wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong. Wrong. Wrong.
There is something wrong.
.
.
.
.
Vox.
It’s Vox. It takes a moment for Valentino to realize that’s the problem. Something that feels a lot like fear takes over his mind, but that can’t be because this is Vox.
This is Vox.
It’s just Vox.
And wrong. Dangerous. His Voxxie.
Vox. It’s Vox.
But wrong. Vox. A threat.
Vox. Vox. Vox.
Vox!
And Valentino slaps his hand away and pushes him back. Fuck this! Fuck him. The headache follows right away. Fuck that demon. Fuck this whole thing. With the headache comes dizziness. That fucking dick. And nausea. Fuck this plan and whatever came with it. Valentino stands up, spreading his wings and making himself bigger. It’s instinct to do so, even when he knows it won’t work. Valentino narrows his eyes and his voice gets louder. He’s mad as fuck. He’s heartbroken. He’s done with this. Valentino gets on Vox’s face. He’s so fucking done with all of this.
His reaction is a warning; all of this little display of anger is no actual threat. And Vox shrugs it off. He shrugs it off and ignores the whole thing like it is no more than another hissy fit. A fire he can put out. An overreaction. A storm in a teacup.
And, after all, it will blow over. It will roll by him, and it won’t hurt him. It won’t touch him because it’s no more than a silly tantrum. It’s just Valentino.
And he can’t flinch in front of that guy. He can’t bend. He can’t apologize. Not that he ever would actually say the words, but he can’t even look the part at the moment.
And that’s fine.
Usually.
Because Valentino will scream in his general direction and curse him in Spanish and storm around and out of the room like he’s about to become a natural disaster, but he won’t touch him and Vox won’t apologize with words, but he meets Val where he is at and they work from there and fuck about it and the issue just disappears in the air because it’s never a dealbreaker.
Usually.
Their little routine doesn’t work when Vox is doing his damn best to impress a third party. So, sure, Valentino storms off, and he curses Vox’s in Spanish, but, this time, he also breaks his face a little. Not too much. He could do worse. He would do worse if this were anyone else.
That little aggression isn’t satisfying enough. It’s bitter and frustrating and Valentino would like to shoot a bitch about it. He’s upset, like, for real.
His anger grows and grows in the hours that take Vox to finally show up at his door. By then, Valentino had broken things and screamed his anger at assistants who were unlucky enough to cross him and paced around his room and ranted about it to Velvette who was totally on his side and made no effort to deescalate anything in this situation. As usual, Vox doesn’t knock. He doesn’t need the actual door, and he doesn’t need to pretend with Val. Valentino notices his presence before he sees him through the heavy red smoke.
“Are you done yet?” Vox asks, and Valentino is too shocked to react right away.
Valentino takes a long drag of his cigarette and closes his eyes before blowing out the smoke.
“Fuck you, Vox,” Valentino answers and it’s calm and collected in ways that border on actual hurt.
Vox walks through the smoke and stands in front of Valentino. He looks down at him on the couch. He doesn’t look upset, which is fine: Val is upset enough for both of them. Vox reaches down and tilts Valentino’s face up by holding his chin between his fingers. He smirks at Val and Valentino considers stabbing his cigarette on Vox’s skin. He might, depending on Vox’s next words.
“You really forgot all about it, didn’t you?”
Valentino frowns. He’s not totally sure what Vox is on about. His confusion must show on his face because Vox smiles a little more.
“No need to work too hard to remember it, Val,” Vox says and steps forward, standing between Valentino’s spread legs. Valentino has no idea what he’s going on about. He leans down to face Valentino, his eye already swirling. “That felt bad earlier, didn’t it? Let me fix it for you, babe.”
Valentino doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Vox knows his hypno thing does not work on Val. It never did, they tried and it was just a frustrating waste of time. He can’t bring himself to look away from Vox.
“That’s it, babe. Relax and let me take care of you.”
Vox’s voice is soothing. Valentino stares into his eyes and he drops his hands down the side of his body. Vox reaches out and takes his cigarette from him, but Val can’t really look away from his eyes. It feels like safety. Vox is still talking, but Valentino can’t make out the words. Vox has such a nice voice. Valentino can feel his anger leaving his body. Because Vox has the best voice. He stares into Vox’s eyes, and his mind slowly sinks into a soft void. There is nothing wrong with it. This is Vox. Just Vox. Valentino relaxes a little. It’s just Vox. His Voxxie.
“How do you feel, babe?”
Valentino isn’t sure how to answer that. It feels too complicated to string the words to say anything. So, he smiles.
“That’s my Val,” Vox says and caresses Valentino’s face before pushing him back against the couch and climbing into his lap. “Tell me, baby. Are you mad at me?”
“Mm, no.”
“No?” Vox encourages him and Valentino shakes his head, closing his eyes. “Do you feel good, baby?”
Valentino sighs softly, relaxed and happy. His mind feels floaty.
“Yeah, baby. Voxxie.”
“Let this be your reminder to not fight me off,” Vox says. “Say it, Val.”
“This is my reminder to not fight you off.”
“Just me.”
“Just you.”
Vox caresses his cheek again and Valentino feels himself melting.
“You can’t leave me, Val. Who else would make you feel this good, huh, baby?”
“Just you,” Valentino repeats again.
“Good.”
Valentino barely feels like a person. He can’t look away from Vox. All there is in his soft and blank void is Vox. Vox’s words are the only guide for his thoughts. He can’t imagine wanting to leave him. The possibility seems absurd. He can’t remember his anger, his jealousy. There is nothing but the pleasure of Vox’s presence. It’s Vox.
Just Vox.
Vox Vox Vox Vox.
Vox.
“Valentino,” Vox says and Valentino pays attention. “Why did you fight me off earlier?”
Valentino frowns a little. It’s very hard to think about anything but this moment with Vox.
“Don’t think about it. Just answer it.”
Valentino nodded.
“You were doing it for him.”
“Ah,” Vox says and pauses. Then he goes on, a smile on his voice. “Were you jealous, Val?”
“Yeah.”
Vox chuckles and Valentino closes his eyes, smiling a little because the sound feels nice. This is just Vox.
“You gave your mind to me, baby. You will hurt yourself trying to fight me.”
It makes sense.
“No more of this nonsense. Say it, Val. No more fighting me off.”
“No more fighting you off.”
Vox leans down and kisses Valentino’s lips. It’s just a soft peck on his lips, but it makes Valentino moan.
“It feels so good.”
“Yeah, baby. And it will continue feeling good. Our little secret,” Vox says and kisses him again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against Valentino’s lips. “Let’s wake you up or else Vel may be worried you suddenly stopped texting her.”
Valentino nods because Vox’s say so. It makes sense. He opens his eyes and looks at Vox and he listens to Vox as Vox’s goes on and on and it’s confusing and a little unpleasant to be pulled out of that blank space, but he follows Vox’s instructions.
Valentino blinks at Vox on his lap, smoking his cigarette. His anger dissipated like the smoke in the room, but, still, he pouts a little.
“Why are you pouting now, Val? You don’t I didn’t mean to force you earlier,” Vox says and Valentino crosses his upper arms. “Come on, babe. We both know it doesn’t work on you. It wasn’t serious.”
Valentino huffs a little, but that’s true. He pouts a little more, just for the drama, and Vox leans in and kisses his lips. Valentino can’t help but smile a little. Vox hands him his cigarette back.
“When can I borrow your little toy?”
Valentino narrows his eyes at him.
“Don’t push it.”
Vox watches him for a moment and then grins at him.
“Maybe I should work a little harder to convince you,” he places a hand on Valentino’s chest. It’s tempting. Val bites his own bottom lip. Vox can be quite convincing. “What do you say?”
Valentino watches him for a moment and then nods, a little hesitant. There is no downside to it, after all.