Lovers Once More - Radiostatic

Dredging Up Old Feelings.

The streets of Hell were eerily quiet as Alastor guided a nearly blackout-drunk Vox back toward the Hazbin Hotel. Vox's arm draped heavily over Alastor's shoulders, his usually rigid, digital form slumping as he leaned in close, barely able to keep himself upright. Alastor kept one arm firmly around Vox's waist, steadying him with a patience he'd rarely afforded anyone. The night air buzzed with a strange energy, a static charge between them that felt both familiar and uncertain.

"Y'know, you... you're good at this," Vox slurred, his words thick and clumsy, his screen flickering erratically. He leaned his head against Alastor's shoulder, his mouth dangerously close to Alastor's ear. "Can't believe it's... you helpin' me out like this."

Alastor smirked, glancing down at him. "Someone has to keep you from stumbling face-first into traffic, dear Vox," he replied with a soft chuckle, his tone light. "And besides, there's no need to thank me. I'm merely doing what anyone would for a... former associate."

Vox let out a hazy laugh, a sound that was surprisingly soft. "Associate... sure," he muttered, his screen dimming a little as if he were collecting his thoughts. "But you know we were... more than that once." His voice cracked with static, and he shook his head, his usual sarcasm and bite melting into something else—something raw.

Alastor glanced at him, his expression carefully neutral. "That was a long time ago, Vox," he replied, though his voice was softer than usual. "We've had our fair share of... transitions since then."

Vox's gaze flickered up to meet Alastor's, a spark of clarity cutting through the drunken haze as he studied Alastor's face. "Transitions... that's a fancy way to say we went from friends, to... lovers, to friends again, then to enemies, then to... this." He gestured vaguely between them, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

Alastor tightened his grip on him, steadying him with a soft chuckle. "Yes, well, you've never been particularly good at simple dynamics, have you?"

Vox snorted, his screen flickering with static as he chuckled. "Yeah, well, neither have you." He paused, and for a moment, his expression softened, a flash of something vulnerable slipping through the cracks. "But I missed it, you know," he mumbled, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I missed... us."

Alastor's usual grin faltered just slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He cleared his throat, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. "You're certainly very sentimental tonight," he replied, attempting to keep his tone light, though his voice held a touch of hesitation.

Vox ignored him, reaching up to touch Alastor's face, his fingers brushing against his cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture. "I... I mean it, Alastor. I missed more than just the... the *friendship* part of us. I missed you. I missed *this,*" he mumbled, his hand lingering on Alastor's face as his eyes searched Alastor's expression.

Alastor's heart skipped a beat, his usual composure wavering as he felt the warmth of Vox's hand against his cheek. He hesitated, his own gloved hand reaching up to gently remove Vox's hand, though he didn't pull away entirely.

"Vox... you're very drunk," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain. "Perhaps this isn't the best time to be dredging up old feelings."

Vox let out a soft, tired laugh, his hand falling back to his side. "Maybe. But I still... I still mean it. I know I'm a mess, and I know I'm a glitchy, snarky disaster, but... I still love you, Alastor," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his screen flickering in time with his unsteady breaths.

Alastor felt his heart twist at the words, a mix of emotions bubbling up as he looked down at Vox, whose face was softened by the drunken haze, stripped of its usual bravado and bitterness. For a moment, Alastor's usual grin faltered, his expression softening into something almost tender.

"I... I missed you too, Vox," he admitted, his voice quiet, a rare honesty slipping through. "But..." He cleared his throat, his usual smile returning, though it was gentler than usual. "Perhaps we should save this conversation for a time when you're a bit more... coherent."

Vox looked at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fine. But don't think I'm gonna forget this," he muttered, his voice trailing off as he leaned heavily against Alastor once more, his eyes drooping as exhaustion overtook him.

Alastor tightened his grip around Vox's waist, a soft chuckle escaping him as he continued to guide him through the winding streets of Hell. "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less from you," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. And though he knew better than to let his guard down, he couldn't deny the small spark of hope that flickered in his chest as they made their way back to the hotel, Vox's weight a familiar comfort against his side.