We'll Meet Again

Chapter Fifteen: Someone's Rocking My Dreamboat

Vox woke first the next morning, he smiled at the feeling of Alastor's bare chest against his back. He smiled making no effort to roll out of bed. It was nice always to wake up next to someone, but this was better than it had ever felt for him. This was a feeling he wanted to experience every day. Alastor seemed to fit so perfectly against him. Alastor stirred, Vox felt a little pang of anxiety stir within him. Maybe it was foolish but he was worried about how Alastor would react when he woke. They had shared a bed for a bit before Vox went home but this was entirely different. For one, they had done things, well, Vox had done things that were new between them. They had also been considerably more clothed previously. As of this moment, the only thing between them was the thin cotton of Alastor's boxer shorts. Alastor groaned sleepily and nuzzled into Vox's back. He seemed to realize the situation then and froze. Vox's anxiety redoubled, this was the sort of reaction he had been worried about. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, nothing to do now but move forward and hope. Vox buried the nerves he felt and tried to sound as pleased as he had felt when he first woke.

"Hey, morning Alastor. How'd you sleep?"

Alastor remained stiff for a few more seconds then Vox felt him relax against him.

"Quite well actually, you are rather nice to share a bed with. How about you?"

Vox snuggled back against him a little, leaning his head back to touch the top of Alastor's.

"That might have been the best sleep I've ever had. I'm not sure I ever wanna sleep any other way."

Alastor pressed his face to Vox's back and kissed the hollow of his spine. His mouth curled up in a smile at Vox's words. He turned his head and pressed his cheek to his back. Vox felt the slight scratchiness of morning stubble rake across his back and smiled.

"I am starving, and in desperate need of a shave. How about, you and I shower, shave, and make breakfast?"

Vox rolled over to face him. He wrapped both arms around Alastor's neck and kissed him like he would never get the chance again. They separated slightly and Vox smiled widely at him.

"Sounds wonderful."

Vox showered while Alastor shaved. He assumed when he got out and dried off they would trade but Alastor seemed awkward. It took Vox a moment but he got it. He smiled, the last thing in the world he wanted to do was make Alastor uncomfortable.

"How about I go start breakfast? I can shave after."

Alastor looked a little embarrassed by his discomfort but thanked Vox. He patted Alastor's shoulder reassuringly and moved to the bedroom to put on some clothes. He heard the shower start as he headed down to start cooking. Breakfast was a simple bacon and eggs that they ate in comfortable silence. After they ate Vox ran upstairs to shave. When he returned he found Alastor sitting on the couch listening to the morning radio broadcast. Vox sat beside him and after considering for a moment he leaned over and laid his head on Alastor's shoulder. He smiled and slipped his arm behind his back, laying his head over on top of Vox's.

"What do you want to do today?"

Vox leaned into the embrace and smiled.

"This, if I'm honest. But more realistically we probably should shop."

Alastor turned his head so his nose was in Vox's hair and inhaled deeply.

"That is probably a good idea. Needed to do that anyway. So, sit here for a bit, go shop, make lunch?"

Vox repositioned and kissed him.

"Sounds like a great day."

They sat for a bit relaxing together before heading out. The shopping was mundane enough, but Vox found an odd sense of enjoyment in the domestic banality of it. They returned home to find movers arriving with Vox's things. He had reduced his belongings to only things he couldn't live without, which as it happened, amounted to a large bag that he brought along with him and three large moving crates. They took the shopping in first, putting the cold things away then lugged the heavy crates inside. Carrying them in made the whole situation somehow more real. It drove the facts home in a new way. Vox's life in Chicago was over, he had burned it to ash for a cashier's check that should be arriving in the mail in the next few days. Well, that and the pretty young man helping him carry these crates. This was a new start for him, a new life. He was nervous about it, not sure how any of this would go but he was excited as well. So far everything had gone better than he expected and he suspected that trend was likely to continue.

A few days later he received the check he had been waiting for, the total value of all of his assets. He was impressed with the number. Alastor goggled at it, dumbstruck by the amount. They tucked the money safely into the bank and settled into living together. They didn't argue much, money wasn't an issue and Vox was pleased enough to stay home and do the housework that the weekly maid didn't get. Very little changed in their arrangements for quite some time. Alastor became comfortable with being in his boxer shorts around Vox, but couldn't quite come around to taking them off in front of him. Vox felt a little bad being the only one getting any relief but Alastor reassured him regularly that he was fine. After a month or so Alastor did graduate from sitting across the room with his clothes on to sitting with Vox. Days blurred into a haze of domestic bliss until the night they didn't. Until the night Vox found the book, that was the night the worrying started. Alastor called from work, telling Vox he wouldn't be home until late. He seemed very hesitant to be any more descriptive than, "Something came up." He told Vox several times not to wait up, to just go to sleep. He even tried to do so, laying in bed wondering and worrying for over an hour before he gave up. He went downstairs and sat in Alastor's office. A room he did not frequent, but one he found to be the epicenter of the "Alastor smell." The room always smelled like old books and sweet tobacco. Vox looked over the varied titles arranged neatly on the bookshelves that almost completely lined the office walls. He stopped on two, side by side they stood out from the rest of the books. They bore no words on their spines. He took one and inspected it, a lovely leatherbound book, but the front and back were as devoid of label as the spine. A chill crept up Vox's spine for a reason he couldn't pin down. He sat at the oak desk in the room, sliding the typewriter back a bit to place the book before him. There was no part of the house that Alastor had forbade him from inspecting. In fact, he had encouraged Vox to avail himself of the books in the office. So why was Vox so hesitant to open this one? He sat there staring at the book's blank cover for a long time. He reached out hesitantly as though the book might bite him if he startled it. He opened it and turned past the first few blank pages. The first page of interest held a newspaper clipping. He read over the clipping, paused, and read it again. It was an article about a wealthy man who had moved to town. In the article, there was much made of his hopes to "Clean up" New Orleans, to "Purify it." He wasn't shy about what and whom he thought the problem was. Vox felt resentment growing for the subject of the article. He turned the page to find two more articles about the same individual both fairly short. The first was speculative, a reporting of rumors that he might put in an offer to buy out the local radio station. Vox felt anxiety creep up his neck. The last article had a date beside it, written in Alastor's elegant hand. It proclaimed that the individual from the previous two articles had been reported missing. A lump rose in Vox's throat he could feel his heart racing. He flipped through the book hearing his heart pounding in his ears. Page after page of articles, a person having said or done something awful followed by a missing persons report and a date. He flipped until a blank page greeted him, then turned back to the page before. The clipping was about a rally to be held soon, for a very specific group of particularly unpleasant people. In the article, the local leader of the group was very open with his disdain for particular groups of people. One of those groups quite explicitly included Alastor, another, however, included both of them. It was surreal to read someone put forward such vitriol towards an entire group to which he belonged. There was no missing person report for this individual, there was however a listed date for the rally, which was the coming weekend. Everything crashed home at once for Vox, the full recognition of what he was reading. The realization of where Alastor was tonight. There might not be a missing person report or a beautifully handwritten date for this person yet. But, after tonight, Vox suspected there would be. He felt numb. He couldn't bring himself to count the dates but there were a lot. He rose and moved nervelessly back to the bookshelf. He took the second book off the shelf. As he did a file fell from behind them. He flipped through the second book first, more articles, more dates. He sat the second book on the desk with the first. He took the file out and opened it, inside was a near stack of papers, something was typed on them. He sat back at the desk to read.

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light, angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. This is his story."

The front door opened quietly and snicked shut. Vox froze panic flooding into his ragged thoughts. Alastor was home.