"No, we can't send any more spies," Vox said, exasperated. He reached for his coffee mug, feeling a small pang of satisfaction at the "Fuck Alastor" written on it. It was petty, sure, but deserved.
"Why not?" Valentino pouted. Vox groaned inwardly. Val was good for sex, but that was pretty much where his skills ended. He couldn't see shit, didn't know how to fight, and was incredibly stupid at times. "Because, Val," Vox said through gritted teeth. "We already tried that and it didn't work."
Vox stood up and started pacing the room, while Val stared at him foggily, taking a swig from his cigarette. His eyes fell on the knife wedged through a picture of Alastor. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the photo, examining it. The knife had little bumps and scratches on it from all the times Val had thrown temper tantrums and massacred his employees. They were all immortal, but Vox knew Valentino got some sort of sick pleasure from inflicting pain.
"Uh, hey, boo-boo bear?" Val called, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Are you gonna just stare at that knife like a dominatrix, or are we gonna figure out how to kill Alastor?"
Vox's eyebrows furrowed as he turned around slowly. He chuckled softly to himself, a dangerous sign. His voice dripped with bitterness. "I don't want to K̴̳̿I̶̠͘L̸͎̕L̷̪͝ ̸͎̏h̷͇͋i̶̢͝m̶͔̑." His face glitched with an unhinged expression. The anger that he tried so hard to suppress was surfacing. "I want R̵̻̈́E̷̠̚V̷̳̀Ë̵̹́N̷̳̏Ǵ̶͜Ë̶͕ for what he did to me." Vox's voice glitched again and started to echo. "He deserves much worse than death."
Val blinked, looking confused. Vox had only ever told him that Alastor rejected his business deal. Everything else about their relationship had been a secret, locked away under Vox's picture-perfect, smiling facade. But now, Vox was looming over him, fists clenched, face manic, and the truth was slowly slipping out. "That fucking b̴̡̿ḯ̶͈ṫ̷̟c̵̘͑h̴̛̜ deserves to be ripped apart by sharks. He deserves to burn in a place much worse than H̴̛͖e̴̙͝l̴̘͗l̶̪̿." Vox walked over to Valentino, clutching the knife.
Val scrambled up off the couch, panicking slightly. It was rare to see Vox lose his temper, and there was no telling what he would do. "Mi amor..." Val tried to reason with him. "Put down the knife please, baby."
Vox laughed wildly, his eyes glowing with insanity. "YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?" He threw the knife, missing Valentino by less than an inch. It flew across the room and stuck in the wall on one of Val's sexy posters. "NOBODY GETS IT!" Vox yelled, electricity buzzing through him as his screen overheated. He always overheated when he experienced a too-strong emotion. Another reason why he made sure to keep his feelings in check. "NOBODY UNDERSTANDS, BECAUSE ALL THEY SEE IS THE Ṛ̴̑Ả̷̼D̷̬̃Ï̶̱O̶̞͝ ̶̅͜D̸̙̿E̶̥͠M̵̩̚O̸̼̓N̵̙̉!" He pointed at Alastor's picture on the wall. Val was backed up against the door, looking frightened. "THEY DON'T SEE THE SCARED LITTLE FRENCH BOY, ALONE AND SCARED IN HELL! THE ONE WHO HAD NOTHING, AND I GAVE HIM EVERYTHING! HE WAS MY FRIEND! THAT LOUSY Ṕ̴̺I̷͚̎E̴̘̊C̴͓͝E̸̟̽ ̸͍̆Ơ̸̬F̸̩͋-"
"Sir?" Baxter's voice made him stop.
Vox froze, and for the first time, he realized that he was practically on top of Valentino, who was cowering on the floor. He stepped back and was aware of the whirring in his head. He was seriously overheated. He turned to Baxter, who was clutching a clipboard nervously. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Sir." Baxter seemed to shrink under Vox's glare. "But there's something you need to see."
Vox exhaled loudly and put a hand on his face in exasperation. "Yeah. Okay. Just- gimme a minute, please."
"Of course, Sir." Baxter closed the door, looking eager to escape.
Ignoring Val, Vox sat down on the couch and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He tried to cool himself down. He couldn't afford a power shortage, not now. His mind was still racing. He was trying not to fall apart, but it was so hard. Alastor returned and all of the pent-up feelings that he had tried so hard to hide were spilling out. And now...he just felt like a kid again. A scared, young man who was dropped into hell after being crushed by a flat-screen TV in New York.
He felt so...helpless. Like the world was just tossing him around like a beach ball, and he couldn't do anything about it. Like Alastor could hurt him over and over again and never have to pay for it. Like he would never be more than a lying businessman who capitalized off of the suffering of others.
But that's Hell, isn't it? Eat or be eaten, kill or be killed. Alastor had taught him that. Vox took a deep breath, trying not to think about the Radio Demon. Fuck, he thought. I'm still overheated. God, I'm a fucking mess.
He felt something cool on his forehead. He opened his eyes. Valentino was there, pressing a damp rag to Vox's screen, a soft look on his face. It wasn't sympathetic, exactly. But it was something. Vox sighed with relief as Val wiped his head slowly, feeling himself cool down. Subconsciously, he leaned into his partner's hand like a moth to a light.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and Vox relaxed under the rhythm of Valentino's hand. Val knew his body like the back of his hand. They had had sex more times than he could count. But Vox couldn't ever remember being touched by Valentino like this, in a way that was caring, gentle, and almost loving. It had always been dirty or vulgar, rushed and forced. Vox never had much interest in sex, but he did it to make Val happy.
Vox looked over at the moth demon, who was still wiping him gently. He knew they were nothing more than sex partners. If things ever got intense, Val would choose himself over Vox. And Vox would do the same. Wouldn't I?
At the end of the day, Val stuck with him. Out of loyalty, or not. And Vox couldn't call it love, exactly, but he had some sort of connection with him. They understood each other, at the very least. They both knew what it was like to start at the bottom of the food chain and work their way up. And they both knew what it was like to be afraid of losing what they had built.
Val took the rag off of Vox's screen and set it down. "Better?" he asked. His voice was much quieter than usual. Vox nodded. "Much." Val smiled, and all of a sudden, his momentary softness evaporated. "Good. Now you can't make fun of me for being hotheaded, you little cunt."
Vox rolled his eyes and shoved Val away. "Shut the fuck up." He stood up and walked away briskly, calling over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go see what Baxter wanted to show me."
"Okay, bye Daddy!" Valentino called out obnoxiously.
Vox opened the door to the security camera room, where Baxter was sitting, hunched over a computer and looking stressed. "Let's get this over with." Vox flopped down in his bright blue chair in front of a large television.
"Of course, Sir." Baxter pushed his glasses up his nose and frantically typed something out on his keyboard. A moment later, the security footage from camera #19 was up on the big screen. It showed the view of the Hazbin Hotel, newly rebuilt. Vox bounced his leg, annoyed. "Baxter, why are you showing me this fuck-ass hotel?" Impressive that they built it so fast.
"Sir, look." Baxter pointed at the screen. There, walking up to the hotel with no apparent concern for his surroundings, was- "Holy shit. Is that-" Vox leaned forward as the demon shifted, just enough to reveal the front of his robe. There, emblazoned across his chest, was a giant "A".
Vox chuckled with disbelief and sat back in his chair. The first man was in Hell.
A/N: These first three chapters are more of a prologue for the rest of the story if that makes sense. There'll be about 16-17 chapters in total but we've got most of it planned out :)
