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“Barkeep, do me a favor and give me something strong.” Vox says, weak and pathetically.
His shoulders were hunched, he’s lost the powerful cadence he’d walk with. He’s…hit rock bottom, to put it bluntly. Or, maybe he’s been humbled one too many times that he just doesn’t care anymore to put on a front that frankly, any sinner would be stupid enough to believe.
So, that’s how he found himself sitting on the same stool that Alastor cruelly broke his heart and laughed while doing it, nearly seventy years later. The bar hadn’t changed much, still the same colorful bird as the bartender, the same dingy, sticky floors and dim neon lights that egged sinners to make horrible decisions.
But, one thing has changed-he’s moved on from said asshole. He’s spent the entire aftermath forcing himself to actually move on. He’s reconnected with nature, which felt fucking emasculating. He’s tried learning a new hobby, it didn’t really do much but make him bored. But, eventually-he woke up, and he swears up and down that his feelings just…went away. And, he’d show that by getting a drink at the same bar where everything went down. But, maybe God really was punishing him, because soon after, Alastor came marching in with the same shit-eating grin and screeching static and plopped himself right next to Vox.
A few other sinners left the building immediately, some screamed, as if they expected Vox to react. It was fucking humiliating knowing that other people were already predicting his behavior-he’d lash out, scream, maybe even cry. But, he’d show them all he’s moved on and that he’s no longer in love with-
“Hello, old pal, didn’t think I’d see your face anywhere, given that you’re now, well. Powerless.” Alastor said, smugly and with words meant to hurt.
And, immediately-all his “progress” gone in an instant. Because he could feel his heart racing, his mind melting into pudding, his body bursting with electricity because the man he’s loved and obsessed over for years was sitting there. Crossed leg, a smirk on his face and half-lidded eyes, right next to him, looking incredibly pretty and horrible.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily, prick.” Vox responds.
Alastor grins and waves the barkeep for a drink. “Hmm, of course I can’t.”
They didn’t fight, because it would be extremely one-sided, given that Vox had less than half of the power he started with. Instead, they exchanged formalities, spoke about old times, and shared a few jabs-as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing mattered anymore. Vox nearly killed himself and everyone around him, nothing could really top that.
“I love you.” Vox says, candidly, after more than a few minutes of small talk. Almost as if he was tired of holding it in. He said it in a way that someone else was tired of keeping it a secret, tired of having to pretend he didn’t. So, he just said it, right there, after maybe his fourth or fifth drink. And realized, it really wasn’t that hard to admit at all. All that killing, bloodshed-hell, chaos that he’s built around himself, hurting his own friends, his career-half of the fucking pentagram-felt…ridiculous. Maybe he really was pathetic.
And, of course, Alastor laughs. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs. It’s mean and cruel, it digs in Vox’s chest and he still, pathetically, wants to kiss him so bad.
“I think you’ve completely lost your mind, sweetheart.” Alastor says in between giggles.
“I mean it, I really do love you.” Vox says casually again, because what else is there for him to lose?
Alastor looks at him, really looks at him. Vox expects anger, maybe disgust-a tiny part wishes that Alastor would feel the same, but of course, Vox is wrong and Hell is cruel. Because instead, Alastor sighs, like he’s disappointed.
“Ah…I suppose that makes your little outburst all the more understandable, then.” Alastor responds, albeit with slight disinterest and downright contempt.
“Yeah,” Vox probably shouldn’t keep talking, Alastor’s body language alone suggested otherwise. But, Vox doesn’t stop, because he loves him so much, it’s practically selfish of him. “I thought maybe, if you saw how powerful I am without you, you'd, I don't know, be impressed and come running back into my arms. Maybe say, ‘I was actually wrong and you were always right, my dear!’ And, I’d be all smug and it would feel really good.” Vox rambles, he’s running the tip of his claws against the rim of his glass cup, trying not to feel too overwhelmed. But, Alastor hadn’t stopped him yet, instead he’s gone silent, for once.
“I hoped that you’d-and, I know it sounds completely pathetic of me, but I hoped you’d maybe…want me, too. I’d take you out on dates, give you anything you wanted, just to keep you.” Vox continues, sighing dreamily as he places himself back into his delusions once more. “Hah, what’s that one movie line? What is it you want, Alastor?” Vox tried, oddly theatrical. “What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down!” Vox mimicked, hands clutching tightly against his dress shirt.
Alastor lets out a small chuckle, but he’s still really not saying much of anything.
“And I would’ve, by the way, pull the moon down if you wanted.” Vox admits with a slight blush on his face. “Can’t be that hard to figure out, I mean, there’s a literal bird bartender, anything can happen.”
“What if what I wanted was for you to completely forget your feelings for me, would you do that too, Vox?” Alastor finally says, it comes off as a joke, maybe a tease-but Vox knows there’s some truth to it.
Vox blinks. “I-I guess, yeah, I would.”
Alastor snarls, teeth pulling into a tight smile. “Really, you would? Hah! I doubt it! You are utterly incapable of putting others first.”
“I would-okay?! Would it be that fucking crazy to believe that I actually am in love with you? If you really wanted me to completely forget my feelings-then, damnit, I will.” Vox snaps for the first time that evening.
Alastor smiles and leans in just an inch or two. “Fine, then that is what I want, Vox.” His fangs are sharp and his posture is pulled together, as if he’s forcing himself to not rip Vox into shreds.
“Fine.” Vox mimicked childishly. “If that’s what you want-I’ll program that shit out, immediately, asshole.” Vox grumbles, turning his attention back to his drink. “I should’ve done that a long time ago…”
Alastor laughs, “That I agree, old chum. It really would have saved you so much trouble, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Vox responds, dejected as he was when he first sat down. “It really would’ve.”
“Hmm…nice to know we can still agree on certain things.” Alastor says, taking another long sip of his seventh drink.
Vox doesn’t say anything after that, there’s no need for him to have the last word after everything they’ve been through.
Well, he doesn’t say anything for the next five minutes, that is.
“But, you know, it felt nice to think about.” Vox sighs out, he leans his head against his sharp claws, ignoring the way they prick at his face. “I mean, that rush of just seeing you would make my day-hell, my entire fucking week.”
Alastor grumbles, clearly peeved off at Vox’s insistence.
“Could you maybe do something for me in return?” Vox’s voice was strangely timid and quiet, as if what he was about to ask was a shame in itself. It’s oddly vulnerable-for a man like him. Surprisingly, Alastor turns to give Vox his undivided attention. Maybe because he felt bad, or maybe because he wanted to humor Vox. It didn’t matter, at least he was looking at him.
Alastor hums, gaining interest in the conversation again.
“I’ll forget about my feelings for you and this conversation. And, in exchange, can you just…say that you love me, too?” Vox offers.
He half expects Alastor to reject his deal, maybe laugh cruelly once more, but instead, Alastor nods.
Alastor turns to face Vox once more, extending his arm out for Vox to shake. The mere sight of it is enough for Vox to preen, maybe even regret a little bit. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like without this love he had for him. The excitement and danger that came with it, loving Alastor made every failure, bad deal, drunken mistake, worth it. But, what’s a gamble without a bit of regret?
“It’s a deal.” Alastor calmly says.
He remembers when they first met, how enamored he was by Alastor’s sheer power. He remembers how shy and nervous he felt, he’d turn into a puddle whenever Alastor so much as glanced at him. How alive he’d feel-it was like he snorted fifteen lines of cocaine just being next to him, buzzing and full of life in ways he’s never felt before. He understood what all of those love songs meant when he was alive, how it completely transforms and makes a mockery out of a man. He remembers the heartache. Food wouldn't have any taste. Vox would struggle to get out of bed weeks-months after their falling out. The anger in his chest, burning him alive seeing Alastor be completely unphazed, while Vox was slowly ruining himself.
Vox's smile stretches his entire screen as he takes Alastor’s hand, and shakes.
Power. Is what it feels like, when he shakes Alastor’s hands.
“I love you, Alastor.” Vox speaks. It comes out breathy and awestruck, he still feels the thrum of pure power pulsing through his veins. Coupled with the fact that it feels so good to finally say it out loud in front of him. He steadies his breath. He knows he’s got the most whipped smile right now-he probably looks stupid, but he doesn’t care, not anymore. “More than anyone I’ve ever known, back on earth and for all of eternity. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Vox has imagined his confession of love to be in far more romantic places than the sticky, oddly smelling bar from where they first had their falling out. But, as always-it seems Vox has less control than he lets on. It feels sentimental.
“And, I love you, too.” Alastor responds. It’s kind of eerie and foreign when it falls from his mouth. Like he’s forcing the words out. A lot different from what Vox imagined it would sound like. A part of him sinks, because he knows it’s not real-but, the fantasy is nice, for a little while.
The music is softly playing in the background. The other sinners have either made their way back to the bar, or or just continued to chat seeing that neither of the two media demons were going to fight. Vox’s eyes wander around as he takes everything in. He’s confessed his feelings, with complete desperate vulnerability…and he didn’t throw much of a tantrum. The world didn’t turn inside out, Alastor didn’t stuff his soul into his staff-he laughed of course, practically rejected him too. But…it feels kind of nice, actually.
“Three times…was that necessary?” Alastor lets out after a few minutes of silence. His radio frequency screeches a bit when Vox gets a bit too close.
“I just…wanted to say it, you know, because I’ll program it out soon.” Vox shrugs. “And, the best things come in threes! Is what Val says, anyway.”
“Val. Ah, that pompous, floozy sinner you call a partner? He still keeps you around? How unsurprising at all, actually.” Alastor tuts, downing the rest of his drink.
“Yeah, he’s been oddly clingy behind closed doors, actually. It’s kind of sweet, kind of creepy.” Vox admits, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he recalls his business partner. “He keeps checking to see if I’m alright while also being pissed off at me.”
“Whatever would he be upset at you for?” Alastor teases, rolling his eyes playfully.
“Ah, well you know, my obsession and undying love for you.” Vox casually says. It’s so relieving to finally talk about it so openly.
Alastor blinks for a few seconds, hearing Vox confess once more. Three total times in the last few minutes. “So you’ve said.” He responds.
“Yeah, so I’ve said.” Vox parrots with a grin, his chest feeling strangely weightless.
Tonight, he’d go back to the V tower and program his feelings for Alastor out. He’d be able to think clearly for once. Velvette and Valentino would be delighted. He’d stop the obsession all together, and finally move on. But, right now, he’d have another drink and soak in every last minute he gets to have left, being in love with Alastor, the man he’s loved for nearly a century.
Oh, my man, I love him so
He'll never know
All my life is just despair
But I don't care
When he takes me in his arms
The world is bright, alright
What's the difference if I say
I'll go away
When I know I'll come back
On my knees someday?
For whatever my man is, I am his
Forever more