Work Text:
Vox was the responsible one. More than anyone else in the Vees, more than anyone else in his company, more than any of the other Overlords. It didn’t matter what other people said about it. He was the responsible one.
“Mi luz, if you really needed a break, you should have called me.”
Vox blinked one eye. Then the other. “What?”
Val gestured at Vox’s desk. Vox stared at his work and pointedly not at all the white powder which he hadn’t managed to clean up.
“Powdered donuts.”
“Uh huh.” Val leaned over the desk and licked his way through the coke.
“Do you even remember what sugar tastes like?”
“Do you even remember what your bed looks like? It’s been forever since you’ve slept.”
Of course he remembered. He was the responsible one and there was work to be done. He did this in life to keep up with things. Well, not exactly this, but something close. He’d had a nose in life. But he hadn’t snorted anything with it. He would always remember what his bed look liked—he had a perfect memory.
“Yes,” said Vox.
“Yes,” Val repeated. “Forever.”
“No. I meant I know what it looks like. It looks like my bed.”
Val tutted. “Did you know your next meeting’s been cancelled?”
“It has not—” Vox started, right as the notification popped up on his face about his next meeting being cancelled. It wasn’t done from his end, which meant someone had convinced the other guy to cancel. “Val!”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“I wasn’t going to th—”
“I meant it wasn’t me.”
The smirk said otherwise, but before Vox could point that out he was slung over Val’s shoulder. He was about to make Val regret the day he was born, but the hand rubbing his back felt nice. As did the hand squeezing his thigh.
“Vaaal…”
Funny. He was shouting, but it didn’t sound very loud. Had something happened to his volume? Vox tried checking.
“Coke donuts sound like fun though. We should try that sometime, papi.”
Vox groaned.
“If I make you come once, you’ll be out of it.”
“You can’t make me come, I’m at work.” Even Vox realized that sentence didn’t make sense. Val’s laughter only punctuated it.
Once in bed, Vox counted. He didn’t remember having six pillows. Then Val blew him and he was out.