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VoxTech never really slept, especially not recently.
The building hummed with work beneath his office, a constant chorus of machinery and conversations bleeding through the walls and across multiple floors.
Now it was louder than it used to be, because with Lucifer’s sponsorship, he’d been able to hire another ten high-level engineers, many of which were already well renowned for their inventions in life, and give paid overtime for both the new employees and the employees he’d already had working on the project.
With it being the first ever royal sponsorship, all his employees had signed NDAs to not tell anyone outside the company why VoxTech had suddenly gotten such a large boost in budget.
His employees all clearly had their own thoughts on the royal sponsorship and his relationship with the king, but luckily they kept their mouths shut. They did when they were around him or the building’s cameras, at least.
He set down a blue print on the drafting table, crossed out a measurement, rewrote it, frowned, and crossed it out again.
One of the newer engineers lingered in the doorway. They’d been a renowned inventor on earth before dying a few months ago. Like most sinners, they had abandoned their old name when they died. “You do know it’s lunch, right sir?”
Vox barely glanced up. “The heat dissipation is higher on the prototype than the calculations.”
“By null point three degrees, sir. It’s a calculation error.”
“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be. I’ve redone the calculations seven times and they keep saying the same thing. Something in the prototype is wrong.”
“We’ll figure it out, sir. Just give us some time.”
“But-”
“‘It needs to be perfect’, I know. The deadline’s not for three weeks, we have the time to fix it.”
“Wait, did you say it’s lunch?” He asked, glancing at his internal clock.
It read 11:57.
“...Shit.” He muttered, straightening his bowtie and getting ready to teleport.
“Did something happen?”
“Meeting. I’ll be back in an hour.”
With that, he teleported to the building on the outskirts of Carmilla Carmine’s territory that was usually used for overlord meetings.
The meeting hadn’t officially started yet, but if you weren’t at least ten minutes early to these sorts of things, then you may as well not show up.
As he walked in and sat down, he felt stares on him from at least half the people in the room, probably more.
Alastor didn’t seem to be present that day- thank the heavens. He didn’t know if he could handle a snide remark from Alastor about Lucifer at the moment. He got enough of that from everyone else, and he did not need it to come from the one person whose opinion actually mattered.
Rosie was eating some lady’s fingers casually, smiling at him like she knew something.
He very carefully avoided making prolonged eye contact with anyone, but he did notice that Maestro was reading the newspaper, and on the front cover was a picture of him and Lucifer.
The picture was another one of their casual hangouts where Lucifer had ‘accidentally’ run into him and they’d ended up talking for hours on end. With how many times it had happened over the last month and week- nine, (yes, he was counting,) plus the times they’d arranged to meet and talk about the sponsorship- it was practically confirmed that it wasn’t accidental on the king’s part anymore. Lucifer genuinely wanted to spend time with him outside of the sponsorship deal, and he still couldn’t fathom why.
It was just lovely that everyone knew that they knew each other now.
He was honestly surprised that the news of the sponsorship hadn’t been overheard and leaked yet; Lucifer was so far from subtle it would’ve been laughable if it wasn’t his reputation on the line.
“Enjoying the attention?” Valentino asked as he sat down next to Vox.
“Not particularly.”
“You seem to be enjoying the king’s.”
Vox rolled his eyes. “And? What’s that got to do with the meeting?”
“Oh, c’mon. You’re usually more talkative.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Well I am. C’mon, everyone wants to know what’s up with you two.”
“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you the truth.”
“Oh, that juicy?”
“No.” Vox looked away. “That boring.”
Valentino stared at him. “That’s somehow more suspicious.”
“It isn’t.”
“It really is.”
Before Vox could argue, the doors opened.
Carmilla entered the room, and the conversation immediately died.
The meeting began with the usual formalities.
Vox listened to various reports, territory disputes and complaints about minor power struggles that had somehow escalated into matters important enough to bring before a room full of people who could level cities if they were sufficiently annoyed.
Or, more accurately, he pretended to listen.
His attention kept drifting back to the newspaper sitting in front of Maestro.
He hated that he recognized the exact moment the picture had been taken.
Lucifer had been laughing.
Not his public laugh.
Not the exaggerated, theatrical one he used when he was performing for a crowd.
A real one.
Vox hated that he knew the difference, but he did.
“Vox.”
He looked up. Several eyes were on him.
“Apologies.” He said smoothly. “Was there something you needed?”
Carmilla tilted her head, expression unreadable. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m always distracted.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t.
Vox resisted the urge to sigh. “Is there a point you’re getting to?”
“Well…” Valentino said from beside him. “I think we all know what the point is.”
Vox turned slowly.
The moth demon looked far too pleased with himself. “Don’t we?”
Vox stared.
“What?” Valentino gestured around the room. “Everyone’s been wondering.”
A few people suddenly became very interested in anything other than Vox.
That was answer enough.
Wonderful.
Exactly what he needed.
Because the problem wasn't that they were suspicious.
Suspicion he understood.
Suspicion was easy.
Suspicion meant people wanted something.
This was worse.
They were curious.
Curiosity was something Vox didn't know how to fight.
Vox leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to relax.
They were overlords- not investigators or judges. They had no reason to interrogate him, and he had no reason to answer.
“I’m not sure what everyone is wondering about.”
Valentino laughed quietly. “Really?”
“Really.”
“The newspaper?”
“A newspaper.”
“The fact that Lucifer Morningstar has been seen with you multiple times?”
“People talk.”
“The fact that every time he’s seen with you, he looks like he’s actually enjoying himself?”
Vox paused.
Only for half a second.
Unfortunately, half a second was more than enough.
Valentino noticed.
Of course he did.
The moth demon’s grin widened. “Oh, I knew it.”
Vox immediately looked at him. “Knew what?”
“That there’s something.”
“There is nothing.”
“That was the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”
“I have been lying to people professionally for decades.”
“Exactly.”
Vox stared.
Valentino shrugged. “You’re good when you’re lying about something you planned. When you’re hiding something you don’t understand?” Valentino tapped the table. “Terrible.”
That was irritatingly accurate.
For once, Vox had no immediate response.
Because that was the problem.
He didn’t understand it.
He didn’t understand why Lucifer kept showing up.
He didn’t understand why conversations with him felt easy.
And he especially didn’t understand why that bothered him.
Rosie watched the exchange silently with a smile. “You’re different.” She said.
Vox looked over. “I’m always different.”
“Not like this.”
A silence settled over the table.
Vox hated it- he hated that they were right, that they could see something he hadn’t admitted to himself- so he did what he always did.
He smiled. “Maybe I’m just finally getting interesting.”
Valentino snorted. “Finally?”
“Careful.”
“There he is.”
The tension broke slightly, but the curiosity remained.
The meeting continued.
And Vox told himself he could ignore it.
He told himself he could ignore the whispers.
The looks.
The newspaper.
The fact that Lucifer Morningstar’s name was somehow becoming part of his public image.
He told himself it didn't matter.
Then his phone, the one that was literally a function in his head, rang in the middle of Carmilla’s sentence.
Every person at the table looked over at him, and he didn’t have another screen to hide it on, so they all saw Lucifer’s display name instead of his face.
What was worse was that it had a duck emoji next to it. It was because of Lucifer’s obsession with the birds, but how the hell was he supposed to explain that? It probably didn’t help that Vox had been the one to get Lucifer a cell phone in the first place- not that anyone but himself knew that.
For one horrifying second, no one moved.
Not Vox.
Not Carmilla.
Not Rosie.
Not Maestro.
Not even Valentino.
There was no reasonable explanation for why the king of hell was calling him during an overlord meeting.
At least none that didn't make the situation look worse.
“You gonna answer?” Valentino piped up after the third ring.
“Only once I kill whoever invented phones.”
“Didn’t you have a part in that?”
“I’m going to kill myself.”
“Well, do it quickly then. Don’t keep the king waiting.”
Vox started to get up to step out and answer the call, but Valentino swung his leg over top of Vox’s lap like a seatbelt.
Vox looked down. “Remove your leg, Val.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Val.”
“We've spent forty minutes listening to you deny everything. You're taking this call right here.”
Vox did not have the fucking time for this shit, so he just answered the call instead of starting a fight about it. “Lucifer.” He greeted blankly.
“Hi, Vox!” Lucifer said brightly before processing Vox’s tone. “Sorry, is this a bad time?”
“Couldn’t have been worse. I’m in an overlord meeting.”
A pause.
“...Can they hear me?”
“Potentially.”
“...Oops.”
Valentino snorted.
Vox ignored him. “What did you need?”
“Right! I was just wondering how the prototype is coming along.”
“It's progressing.”
“Do you still think it'll be ready for Charlie's birthday?”
“Assuming engineering doesn't discover another problem, yes.”
“Wonderful. She's going to love it.”
“I would hope so.”
“I won't keep you, then. Good luck with your meeting.”
“Thank you.”
“And don't work through lunch again.”
Vox blinked. “...How did you know I skipped lunch?”
Lucifer laughed. “Lucky guess.”
“...Are you spying on me?”
“See you tomorrow!” Lucifer said cheerfully, clearly intentionally ignoring the question.
Lucifer then hung up before Vox could say anything else.
The line went dead.
Silence.
Nobody spoke.
He looked around the table. Every eye in the room was on him.
Maestro had lowered his newspaper entirely.
Carmilla's expression remained as composed as ever, but one eyebrow had arched almost imperceptibly.
Valentino was simply staring.
“...What?” Vox asked defensively.
Valentino blinked once. “...Huh.”
Vox frowned. “What do you mean, 'huh'?”
“I'm… re-evaluating some things.”
“Don't.”
“Too late.”
Another silence settled over the room. Vox hated every second of it.
“Well?” He prompted. “You're all staring. Say whatever you're going to say.”
Carmilla looked around the table before looking back at Vox. “...I don't think any of us expected that.”
“What did you expect?” Vox asked.
“Not whatever that was." Val muttered.
“Oh yeah?” Vox challenged. “And what was it?”
“Normal. That’s the weirdest part.”
“I fail to see the issue.”
“You greeted each other by name.” Rosie observed quietly, still smiling.
“Yeah. And?”
“He apologized for interrupting.” Maestro added.
“Believe it or not, someone who’s been in hell for ten thousand years can still have manners.”
Valentino snorted.
“You discussed a birthday present for Princess Charlotte.” Rosie continued.
“It’s a prototype and she’s getting the first finished one. Also, she prefers Charlie.”
Val scoffed at the correction.
“He wished you luck with your meeting.” Carmilla pointed out.
“As is common courtesy.”
“Then he reminded you to eat lunch.” She continued.
“Also correct, though I don’t know how he knew I hadn’t eaten.”
“And he told you he’d see you tomorrow.” Rosie added.
“Yeah, we have plans.”
Everyone went silent.
“...Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Rosie regarded him for a long moment before finding her voice again. “That’s not usually how kings speak to overlords.”
Vox was quiet because, when put like that, it really wasn't.
Carmilla spoke. “Nor is it how overlords usually speak to kings.”
Vox tilted his head. “I wasn’t disrespectful, was I?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Carmilla, Maestro and Rosie looked at each other before Rosie answered.
“There isn’t one. It’s just… a little odd.”
Valentino leaned back in his chair, finally releasing Vox from his leg-belt prison. “You’re friends.”
Vox stared at him. “No.”
Valentino’s grin only widened. “Voxxie…”
“...No.”
“He has a duck next to his name.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves something.”
“It proves that he likes ducks.”
“It proves that you knew that.”
“You would know that too if you spent more than five minutes with the guy. He’s obsessed!”
“With ducks?”
“With ducks!”
“The king of hell is obsessed with ducks?”
“YES!” Vox insisted. “And no, that still doesn’t prove anything.”
“It proves more than you want it to, Voxxie.”
The meeting continued shortly after.
Nobody mentioned the king again.
They did, however, keep looking at him like they had collectively discovered something extremely entertaining.
Vox hated that almost as much as he hated the fact that they were right.