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Ugh, another one of these stupid fucking meetings with Carmilla and her employees.
Vox knows it has to be done. It was hard enough getting her to agree to work with VoxTek in the first place, and he knows that he has to keep up appearances in order to avoid risking the other overlord deciding to turn against him instead. He, unfortunately, needs her help for the war against Heaven, and that’s not a plan he’s ready to give up on just yet.
That doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it, though.
He’d much rather be back in his room with Alastor, if he’s being honest. It’s starting to become more routine now. Vox goes to work, takes care of what needs to be done, and at the end of the day, he gets to spend the rest of the night with Alastor.
Half of the day his eyes are glued to the clock and counting down the moments until they can spend time together again.
But he can’t get too hung up on that now. He needs to check in on the weapon, make sure production is going as planned, and that the cannon will be ready in time.
Just get through the meeting, and spend time with Alastor later.
With a sigh, Vox pushes the doors open to the warehouse of Carmine Industries. Groups of employees are rushing around with heavy boxes in their hands, welding angelic steel into various types of weapons, and in the far corner of the warehouse is his massive, beautiful cannon.
Only half put together, at this stage, but it lightens some of the tension in his shoulders. At least they’re doing their job, and it looks like they’re doing it damn well so far.
The Might of Lillith. That’ll show Heaven. That’ll show all of Hell who’s really in charge around here.
Carmilla may be a stuck up, anal bitch, but at least she knows what she’s doing with angelic steel.
Just as he’s about to approach the weapon to inspect it for anything that might need tweaking, an unfamiliar employee is rushing in his direction as if he’s just walked in and threatened to fire all of the employees in the building.
They better have a damn good reason if this nobody is deciding to interrupt. This is literally the last place he wants to be right now, anyway.
“Sir, you’re not allowed to be in this area! This section is strictly employees only, I’m going to have to ask you-”
Vox stops listening before the complaint is even finished. Are they serious? Do they have any idea who he is? Clearly not, if they’re trying to kick him out the second he walks in. What a fucking insult.
He puts up his hand to stop the employee’s ranting. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m the one who commissioned the cannon. How about you shut your mouth and go get Carmilla? I need to make sure this gets finished in time.”
The employee stops inches away from Vox, not appearing deterred, or intimidated, for that matter. “Can’t do that, sir. She’s very busy. If you want to talk to her, you need to make an appointment, which you’ll need to do at the front, not in the employee area.”
The attitude in this nobody’s voice sets his teeth on edge. God, is everyone around here a stuck up piece of shit? Who cares if he’s not an employee? He’s one of the most loved overlords in all of Hell.
If this sinner had any idea who he was, they’d be bending over backwards for him. The idea of simply eviscerating them on the spot crosses his mind, but no, no, doing that in Carmilla’s territory might be pushing his luck a bit too far. He’ll have to settle for words for now. Just need to remember their face for later.
Vox throws on a smile that’s entirely disingenuous. “Oh, of course. I’ll just be going, then.” Instead of walking towards the exit, he walks straight for the cannon instead. If he’s going to be stuck here waiting around for Carmilla to get off her ass and come talk to him, then he’s going to inspect the weapon that’s rightfully his.
The employee blinks with shock before rushing after him. “Were you not listening? You’re not allowed to be here! Even if you did order the weapon, there are rules and guidelines in place that everyone has to follow, which means that you need to leave.”
Vox rolls his eyes, continuing to walk towards the cannon. There are clearly several people in here that aren’t strictly employees, if their clothing is anything to go by, but sure. Vox is the problem.
Next time he should bring Alastor with him. Even the newest, most brain dead sinner would know who the Radio Demon is. That would probably shut them up.
Or maybe next time he’ll just stay home with Alastor instead and not go out at all. Honestly, that’s what he should’ve done today. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with this incessant whining from someone who clearly has no idea what they’re talking about.
He can still hear the employee whining about something or other in his ear, but he approaches the cannon without listening to whatever they’re going on about.
Good quality, it seems. Not a single thing out of place. At least Carmilla takes this shit seriously. This will be exactly what he needs to win the war against Heaven.
Vox cuts off whatever the employee is going on about without even looking back at them. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. Go get Carmilla. I have shit to do and you’re wasting my time.”
“I already told you that I can’t!” The employee sighs with exasperation, as if this is one of the biggest headaches they’ve ever had.
Vox is deeply tempted to show them what a real headache looks like if they don’t start cooperating.
But the idea of getting on Carmilla’s bad side when the cannon hasn’t even been finished yet isn’t an option. He needs her, unfortunately, so it will have to wait. At least until the war on Heaven has been finished.
“Y’know what? Fine. I’ll just come back tomorrow. It’s not even worth dealing with the headache.” Vox gives his cannon a singular, affectionate little pat before he turns right back around to start walking towards the door.
He can’t resist the urge to get one final jab in before he leaves, though. Vox calls back over his shoulder. “And I’ll be sure to tell Carmilla all about your little attitude today.”
The employee scoffs and rolls their eyes before turning back to focus on their own work.
Whatever. At least Vox can go back to the tower and spend the evening with Alastor instead. This wasn’t even worth the hassle. Now he’s just in a bad mood.
Vox pushes the door to his room open with more force than necessary, still feeling the slight irritation of dealing with the rest of Hell. At least he’s back in his room now, and can spend the rest of the evening doing something that’s actually worth his time and attention.
And there’s Alastor, perched on the bed and flipping through a book. Just the sight of him alone settles the knot of frustration inside of Vox.
He loves that he can come back at the end of every day to this.
Alastor’s ears perk up at the sound of Vox entering, his eyes leaving the page to land on Vox instead. “Ah, there you are! Another successful meeting, I hope?” He shuts the book quickly and sets it aside on the nightstand, settling on one side of the bed to make room for Vox.
He’s equally as eager to see Vox after the quiet of the day. He’s found his own ways to keep himself entertained while Vox is gone, but he always makes certain to be waiting in Vox’s room by the time evening rolls around.
Vox immediately takes the unspoken invitation. “Hardly. Carmilla couldn’t even be bothered to come down and talk to me, and some fucking employee had an attitude the whole time.” He plops down on the bed with a heavy sigh, settling in beside Alastor. “I should’ve killed them. I’m still pissed about it.”
Alastor’s eyes narrow slightly at the mention of someone getting snippy to his Vox. How dare they. “Oh? Is that so? What sort of ‘attitude’ was this little employee taking with you?”
Truth be told, the idea of someone else prodding at Vox sparks a sort of twist in his stomach. If anyone was going to be getting under Vox’s skin, it was supposed to be him. And he does hate when Vox isn’t smiling.
A mixture of protectiveness and jealousy settles into his veins, though he would never use those words to describe them. Simply something that requires effort to hold back the way his antlers want to grow taller with irritation.
Vox crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the headboard. “Just some random sinner treating me like a nobody who has no idea what I’m doing. As if I’m not literally one of the most feared overlords in Hell.”
Alastor hums with annoyance, spotting the tension lingering in Vox’s shoulders. “Perhaps I should come along next time. I can be quite persuasive, or so I’m told. Especially for a nuisance such as that.”
The real question is if he should draw it out or simply kill the sinner outright. Either way would be satisfying, as long as it put that smile back onto Vox’s face where it belongs.
Vox scoffs softly, the tension draining from his body the longer he talks to Alastor. “Might have to take you up on that.” He speaks softly, shifting to lean his shoulder in Alastor’s direction.
This is nice. He definitely should’ve just left work early instead of bothering with going all the way to the Industrial District. This is where he belongs.
Though there is still the slight chip on his shoulder after having his ego poked at by some random sinner. He’s been thinking about it ever since he left.
There is something else that’s been on his mind, something he knows that would make him feel better. But it’s a bit… embarrassing. And he doesn’t really know how to ask for it in the first place.
But after the weekend they had spent together… Alastor would likely agree, even if it feels ridiculous to say out loud.
Alastor notices Vox’s hesitation and the way he’s gone silent, shifting in closer to bridge the gap between them. “And what would you like me to do for the time being to improve your mood? I won’t have you with a chip on your shoulder for the rest of the evening, you know. It isn’t a good look on you, dear.”
Vox lets his hands fall down to the bed sheets as he tries to suppress the blush he can feel crawling onto his face. “I dunno, I was thinking…” He can’t quite bring himself to make eye contact with Alastor, that knowing smile might just kill all of his nerve entirely.
Fuck, why is this so hard to say out loud?
Alastor will totally agree, he just needs to find the words to actually say it. God, he’s an overlord, and he’s getting flustered over something this stupid.
After staring at the sheets in silence for a few moments, Vox finally, quietly, forces the words out of his mouth. “I guess it might make me feel better if you… tickled me a little.”
Alastor’s eyes widen in surprise before his smirk deepens into something more amused. Oh, that is just too adorable. After a horrible day, what Vox wants is to be tickled silly?
Well, Alastor is all too happy to comply with that request. But not without a hint of teasing first.
“Oh, is that what this is about?” Alastor tilts his head, catching the cyan that’s flooding onto Vox’s face. “Someone wants to be tickled, hm?”
Vox can’t help the wobbly smile that immediately starts to spread across his face. Shit. He might end up regretting this, if that playful tone in Alastor’s voice is anything to go by. He’s definitely about to have the shit tickled out of him. “W-Well, I- uh-”
Alastor lets out a chuckle and brings up a hand, not touching him just yet, but wiggling his claws in his direction. “Well, if that’s what will cheer you up, I suppose I can be convinced.” He tilts his head to the side, his smile growing wider. “But let’s make a game of it, shall we?”
Vox swallows nervously, finally forcing his eyes up to look at Alastor’s wiggling fingers. “A- A game? What kind of game are you thinking?” He can feel his heart starting to pound against his ribs with nervous anticipation.
Alastor’s ears flick as he shifts his hand to start pushing Vox down onto his back. “Oh, it’s simple, really. You simply try not to laugh while I… explore. Easy enough, isn’t it?”
Vox allows himself to be pushed back, a nervous giggle already trying to fight its way out of his mouth.
Don’t laugh? How the fuck is he supposed to do that? He knows he’s stupidly ticklish, and he’s already thinking of what it’ll feel like to have Alastor’s fingers all over his body.
He’s definitely going to lose. It’s already hard enough to not start laughing from the anticipation alone, Alastor hasn’t even touched him yet.
Alastor shifts to kneel beside him as Vox lays down on his back. A low chuckle escapes from him as he looks over the options of where to start. “Speechless already, dear? I’m sure you’ll manage just fine. Now, let’s see…”
Vox stiffens up as Alastor starts hovering his hands over his body, biting down on his tongue to try to fight back any noises. Just the sight of Alastor’s claws so close to his body is sending butterflies straight into his stomach.
He definitely shouldn’t have asked for this. He’s going to be such a giggly mess at the end of this.
Alastor peels up the bottom of Vox’s suit just a few inches to expose the skin of his stomach. “Now remember the rules, my dear. You must stay quiet. Not a peep. Not a giggle. And certainly not a laugh. Otherwise…” His fingers start to approach the skin of his stomach. “You’ll spend the rest of your evening laughing yourself silly.”
Vox is already fighting against every urge in his body to not start giggling. It takes significant effort to hold himself still and stay quiet.
Fuck, this is so difficult already, and Alastor hasn’t even touched him yet. How the fuck is he supposed to stay quiet when he wants to laugh from the threat alone?!
He’s biting down on his tongue hard enough that it nearly starts to hurt.
Alastor’s fingers finally land on his stomach, the tips of his claws starting to gently scribble just to the right of his navel. “I do remember your tummy being a delightfully sensitive area, isn’t it? It always seems to send you into fits of laughter.”
Vox may be able to hold back his laughter, but he definitely can’t stop how much he starts squirming.
His legs start to kick against the bed as he wiggles, his face cracked into a wide smile and his eyes squeezed shut. Fuckfuckfuck. The teasing doesn’t help. This is so fucking hard, and he’s just started!
Just don’t laugh, he can totally do that, definitely…
Alastor lets out a chuckle as he sees Vox struggling, using his free hand to hold down his hip. “Now, now, do quit your squirming. I’ve hardly even touched you, and you’re struggling so much already.”
His smirk deepens as his eyes trail over Vox’s squirming body, landing on a spot just a few inches away from where his fingers are already skittering. “I do believe that your little button is quite sensitive as well, isn’t it?”
Vox can feel his heart nearly stop when Alastor’s fingers start inching towards his navel.
Fuck. That’s going to be the worst spot, and he knows Alastor is going to spend the rest of the night exploiting it if he can manage to hold it together.
But he really, really doubts that he’s going to manage to keep his laughter in if Alastor keeps touching him and talking to him like that.
Alastor grins as he sees Vox nearly stop breathing at the mention alone. He has to zero in on this little weakness now. “Oh, my, that certainly got you to stiffen up. Did I find a particularly sensitive spot, hm?”
He uses his pointer finger to trace a circle around the outside of his navel, just teasing the idea. “I’m sure a little feather in this area would really send you into giggles, wouldn’t it? I’m rather tempted to find out.”
Vox opens his eyes only to stare up at the ceiling as if searching for mercy that isn’t coming. A fucking feather of all things?! Shit, there’s no way that he’s going to be able to hold back the laughter if Alastor-
He can barely even finish the thought before he sees Alastor moving out of the corner of his eye. That’s not good.
Alastor lifts his hand away from Vox’s stomach, a flash of staticy green magic appearing around his fingers before a soft, plumed feather appears between his fingers. “There we are. Perfect for exploring all those little sensitive spots of yours.”
He doesn’t even give Vox a moment to prepare for the sensation before dipping just the tip of the feather into his navel, starting to twist it back and forth. “Tickle, tickle, tickle. Is this sensitive, hm? Right here in this little button of yours?~”
Vox doesn’t even last two seconds before a loud bark of laughter escapes from his throat. “F-FuhuHUCK! WaitwaiTWAIT-!”
Alastor laughs along with him, tightening his hold on his hip. “My goodness! All it took was a little feather and you’re laughing so loudly? Such a ticklish boy you are.”
The feather twists to the left and right, searching for all the spots that send Vox into cackling laughter.
Vox kicks his heels against the mattress as laughter completely overtakes him, trying his best to twist his body away from the feather, but Alastor holds him tight. “SomEWHEHERE ELSE! ALAHAHASTOR!”
Alastor’s eyes crinkle with mirth as he pulls the feather out and abandons it on the sheets, but his hands immediately take over instead. Both hands begin to scribble up and down the length of his ribs, leaning over Vox to keep him in place. “Somewhere else? Oh, very well, if you insist! Your ribs seem to be a lovely place to tickle as well.”
That’s easier to deal with, at least, but laughter has already started pouring from Vox’s mouth and shows no sign of stopping now. Vox brings his hands up to Alastor’s arms, trying to shove him away with nudges that do absolutely nothing to actually move him.
Alastor easily hikes up Vox’s suit to crawl his fingers towards his underarms, showing no sign of stopping. “You realize you lost our little game, yes? That means that you’ll spend the rest of your evening laughing. So do stop your struggling, dear. You’re in for quite the long night.”
Vox snorts as the tickles move up towards his underarms, his eyes squeezing shut in helpless laughter. “Ahaha- Ahat least gihihive me a breheheak!”
Because, fuck, if he’s going to spend the next few hours with Alastor torturing him half to death with tickles, he needs at least one chance to catch his breath first.
Alastor rolls his eyes good naturedly, stilling his tickling fingers and resting them threateningly over the top of his ribs. “If you insist, I suppose I can give you a moment to catch your breath first. I would hate for you to faint on me so quickly.”
Vox takes a deep, shaky breath in and collapses back onto the bed. His eyes crack open to look up at Alastor, seeing that wide grin shining back down at him.
Even when pure, tickling maliciousness is dancing in those red eyes, Alastor looks as gorgeous as ever.
Damn, Vox really did get lucky, didn’t he? To be the full focus of Alastor’s attention like this. This is the only attention he ever really wanted in the first place, ever since the beginning.
Before he can even think about it, the words are coming out of his mouth, soft and needy. “Give me a kiss. Please.” Vox wants nothing more than to feel Alastor’s lips pressed to his again, that will really make all of the tension of the day dissipate entirely.
Alastor’s ears flick at the request, his gaze softening ever so slightly. He lets out a faux exasperated sigh and leans down, his nose hovering inches away from Vox’s screen. “I suppose I can manage a single kiss. Just this once.”
It’s never just once. But Alastor refuses to give up the pretense of being the merciful and stoic one in this dynamic of theirs.
Alastor presses his lips gently to Vox’s, the two meeting with a light touch that slowly deepens into something more firm. The static buzzes against Alastor’s skin, something he’s finding more and more pleasant every time they share a kiss.
His fingers can’t help but tighten ever so slightly around Vox’s ribs, just to ensure that he stays close and doesn’t try to pull away anytime soon.
Alastor is the one in charge of this, after all. And if Vox wants to be kissed, then Alastor will be the one dictating how long it lasts.
Vox sighs softly against Alastor’s mouth, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side to slot their lips together comfortably. This feeling will never get old, and it will never stop bringing the warmth of butterflies into his chest.
He could spend the rest of his afterlife like this and never get tired of it. Being tickled silly and getting kissed by the man he loves more than anything.
After a long moment of holding their lips together, Alastor finally slowly pulls back, his eyes shining with affection. “There. Is that what you wanted?”
Vox lets out a long breath and cracks his eyes open, feeling the warmth of a cyan blush covering the entirety of his face. “Yeah. That’s what I wanted.”
Alastor chuckles softly, keeping his face particularly close to Vox’s. His fingers twitch against his ribs, itching to send Vox into laughter again. “Good. Because now you’re going to spend the rest of the night laughing for me.”
Vox is so fucked. And that's exactly how he wants it to be.