Lovers Once More - Radiostatic

Freak!

Vox's weight became heavier with every step as they crossed a desolate street. His head lolled to the side, his screens dimming as he slurred incoherent words, on the verge of complete unconsciousness. Alastor kept his arm around Vox's waist, his usual carefree grin now edged with quiet concern as he felt the demon slipping further into a drunken stupor.

"Come now, Vox, try to stay with me," Alastor muttered, his voice soft as he glanced at him. But before Vox could respond—or even manage another word—his legs gave out entirely, and his full weight slumped against Alastor.

"Ah, perfect timing," Alastor sighed dramatically, glancing down at the now fully passed-out Vox. "Of course you'd choose *now* to collapse."

As Alastor bent down to lift Vox more securely, the sound of a loud engine revving cut through the silence. Alastor turned his head, just in time to see a rusty, beat-up car screeching to a halt in front of them. The demon behind the wheel leaned out the window, his sharp horns glinting under the dim streetlight as he bared his teeth.

"Hey! Get the hell out of the road, you jackass!" the demon yelled, his voice dripping with irritation as he pounded the side of his car. "Move it, or I'll run you both over!"

Alastor raised an unimpressed brow, casting a quick glance at the demon, before turning his attention back to Vox. "Of course. Just what I needed—a noisy fool with too much time and too little patience."

The demon revved the engine again, the roar of the car echoing through the street. "You deaf or something, asshole? I said MOVE."

Alastor's smile widened, a dangerous glint flickering in his crimson eyes. "Oh, *do* shove it, you obnoxious wretch," he snapped, his tone venomously sweet. "Hit me if you like—it would be doing me a favor, really. I'd love to see you try."

The demon's eyes widened for a moment in surprise before narrowing with anger. He slammed his foot on the gas, the engine growling louder as he inched the car forward threateningly. "You wanna die, freak? 'Cause I'll make that happen!"

Alastor stood his ground, his grin widening with amusement, but as the car lurched forward, his focus shifted. He wasn't about to let the situation get out of hand—not with Vox practically unconscious at his feet. With swift, almost graceful precision, Alastor scooped Vox into his arms, lifting him with ease as he stepped off the street, his movements fluid and efficient.

As the car sped past with a loud roar, the demon inside screamed obscenities, his voice fading into the distance. "Get off the road, you and your *boyfriend*, freak!"

Alastor glanced down at Vox in his arms, whose head was now resting against his chest, completely unaware of the commotion around them. The word "boyfriend" echoed in Alastor's mind for a moment, bringing a fleeting, ironic smile to his lips.

"Boyfriend... what a quaint assumption," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "As if things were ever that simple."

With Vox securely in his arms, Alastor crossed to the other side of the street, stepping into the shadows where the dim lights of Hell's infernal city couldn't reach. The noise of the car, the demon's threats, and the chaos of the moment all faded into the background as Alastor continued walking, his focus solely on getting Vox back to the hotel.

As he walked, Alastor couldn't help but glance down at the passed-out demon in his arms, his thoughts briefly wandering back to Vox's earlier confession. *I still love you, Alastor.* The words rang in his ears, a strange, unsettling warmth settling in his chest. It wasn't like him to dwell on feelings—especially ones rooted in a past that had already grown complicated—but Vox's vulnerability had stirred something.

He shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Foolish," he muttered under his breath, both at Vox's drunken confession and at himself for feeling even a flicker of sentiment in response.

With the hotel now in sight, Alastor quickened his pace, the distant neon lights casting long shadows across the empty streets. Despite everything—despite the chaos and the drunken confessions—he couldn't deny that a part of him had missed this. Missed *him*.