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Ever since Vox manifested in Hell, something had been nagging him in the back of his mind. Or maybe it was his head physically which would make sense seeing as it was a literal television set.
It was like something in him was trying to tell him something.
He ignored it for the most part. It was as easy as breathing when he was up and about and he had tasks to do and contracts to make. It was when he settled in for the night that it became a bit more challenging to put to the side. To act like he wasn’t bothered by the static that filled his empty head. To act like the little whispers in his head telling him to kill and eat weren’t killing him in turn.
But that was how it was for the first couple years he’s been active in Hell.
Now that he’s an overlord, the thoughts have quieted to mere flies buzzing around his head instead of the giant wasps they used to be. His power must have something to do with pinning them down. Or he’s on the path to follow through with what the thoughts wanted from him and so now they’re content to leave him alone at night, because they know he’ll end up where they want him.
All his questions were answered one fateful night.
He was walking up to the bar in one of the more “refined” restaurants when he noticed there was only one sinner sitting there and everybody else were as far away from the bar as they physically could be.
‘Oh well, their loss.’ So up he hopped into the seat next to the demon, his demeanor oozing ease and suave. ‘This’ll be an easy soul contract.’
Oh, how wrong he was.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” he gestured to the man beside him when the bartender came up to greet him. The bartender was a strange looking demon. He had red and black bird wings but cat ears atop his head. Vox wondered how the man must’ve died given that part of Hell’s punishment to sinners was that their appearance was a joke about their deaths.
Bartender aside, he turned his attention towards his companion who definitely heard his request and took an interest in observing Vox.
Vox stared in turn. The sinner had a red suit jacket that was hanging off his seat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had antlers and fawn ears that sprouted from his strange haircut. His fingers traced the rim of his glass lackadaisily but his eyes watched him like a hawk.
Deciding to break the staring contest, Vox smiled, “Hope you don’t mind some company.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, more so telling this guy that he was stuck with him for now.
The bartender came back and placed his glass in front of him, the brown drink swirling around the sides. Vox lifted it to his lips just as the bartender turned to the other man and said, “Doin’ alright, Alastor?” It took everything in Vox to not choke on his drink.
“Quite, thank you, Husker.” And yep, that was definitely the Radio Demon’s voice. Ohhhh boy, Vox sure was in a pickle this time.
Vox only hoped that he hid the fear in his eyes before Alastor saw but going by the sick, curling smile, he was not successful.
Even still, Vox was an actor, and this was just another performance. “So, you’re Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you, you’re a pretty big name in the entertainment industry, y’know. An inspiration, really.”
As he spoke, Alastor’s smile settled into something less threatening and more benevolent. Praise probably wouldn’t be the key to getting out of this alive but it couldn’t hurt.
“Well, aren’t you swell? I knew my broadcast was popular but I didn’t know such new demons like yourself knew about it as well.”
There was an underlying question in his words. ‘Oh, how could I forget to introduce myself?’
“Yes, well, I’m a broadcaster myself. The name’s Vox, you might’ve heard about my show.”
Alastor brought up a hand to his chin in a show of thinking and hums for a moment. Just when Vox was starting to get annoyed, Alastor made an ‘ah-ha’ sound and said, “Ah, yes. You specialize in that noisy picture box fad. I remember you now.”
Vox fumed. A fad? His whole life’s work and what he was trying to continue and improve upon in Hell was a fad huh?
And then Alastor laughed. A full-bodied laugh and that had him grabbing at the counter to steady himself and something in Vox paused. He looked maniacal.
He looked… beautiful.
‘Shit.’
Alastor spoke before too long and Vox’s emotions hit the wall.
“Oh, you should’ve seen your face. I got you so worked up with one comment. Hahaa. Anyways, I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk to me about broadcasting. You have some other plan in mind, yes?”
The TV-headed demon could just picture the ‘service lost’ screen that was most likely displaying on his face.
Of course, Alastor had to comment on it, “Did you know your face is gone, dear?”
He had to physically shake his head to clear away the error messages popping up from the whiplash of emotions he’d experienced in the past three minutes. When he could see Alastor’s confused smile, he scrambled to pull his mask back together, “Nothing to worry about, chum, just still adjusting to the head. It’s not everyday that you turn into an inanimate object that processes thoughts faster than you can think them. Anyway, you were saying?”
Alastor looked at him again, something strange deep in his eyes. “Oh, it was nothing. Just a little observation.”
Suddenly, Vox was overcome by the thoughts and the buzzing. Eat, Kill, Eat, Kill, Kill, Eat. He choked on air as the thoughts manifested after being dormant for so long and even though he tried to hide it, something must’ve shown on his face because across from him, Alastor’s ears perked up.
“You’re hearing that, aren’t you?”
Vox stared wide eyed at the deer sinner. ‘He can hear the buzzing?’
“Yes, I can.”
If Vox’s eyes were wide before, they were practically bugging out of his head now. ‘He can hear my thoughts?!’
Alastor rolled his eyes, “Yes, I can.” And since Vox was clearly flummoxed, he elaborated, “You’re transmitting your thoughts on the radio waves.”
Out loud this time, Vox slowly voiced his thoughts, “I didn’t know I could do that.”
“It makes sense, I suppose. Television originated from radio after all and we both have to broadcast to the people somehow.” Alastor beckoned Husker over once more and tossed a coin to him when a fresh glass of brandy was placed before him.
Something occurred to Vox then, “Wait so if you can hear my thoughts, does that mean those voices saying to kill and eat are your thoughts?”
“Hmm, given that I’ve never considered that others could hear the radio waves like I can, I can’t say for sure, but it sounds like you’ve been receiving my subconscious thoughts.” Alastor swirled his drink before taking a swig.
Vox’s shock turned to caution. If the Radio Demon was always projecting thoughts of killing and cannibalizing other people, he wasn’t sure about the level of safety he currently had. But he was here now, in the thick of it. He might as well see where it takes him.
Those thoughts about the deer being beautiful notwithstanding.
Oh god, did he hear those thoughts? No, right? He would’ve said something for sure.
Alastor had been in Hell for at least a couple decades longer than he has, so he probably grew up in a time where it was normal to be repulsed by homosexuals like him. Lord knows he had to do a lot of soul-searching while he was alive in order to be at peace with himself in this current day and age.
“You look like you’re doing a lot of buffering, picture box. Care to share with the class?” Alastor teased.
The Television Demon scowled, “Did you forget my name already?”
The Radio Demon hummed, “No, I just think it’s dumb. Vox is Latin for ‘voice’ and you haven’t shown me why I should call you something as powerful as that.”
“So what, I haven’t earned a name from you?”
“Percisely.”
Vox had to stop himself from saying anything he might end up regretting by taking a sip of his drink.
Before he could think of a comeback, Alastor finished his drink and stood from his chair. “Well, tonight has certainly been entertaining but I’m afraid I must retire for the evening. Big plans for tomorrow, I’m sure you know how it goes.”
Vox felt whiplash for the second time this conversation from how quickly the other deemed it to be over. He had thought it was a pleasant talk. All he could do was watch Alastor gather his coat and walk out the door, barely getting a quick, “Have a good night.” before the deer disappeared.
A deep voice startled him out of his thoughts, “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”
Vox spun around in his chair to find the bartender, Husker, staring him down with a peculiar look in his eyes.
“If you’d known that was The Radio Demon, would you have sat next to him?” Husker followed up. It caught Vox off guard.
“I mean, probably not, but it was an interesting conversation and I discovered a new power. Er, an old power?” He shook his head. “Either way, I don’t regret it.”
“Uh-huh, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you fell for him in your first ten minutes of knowing him?”
Vox’s screen glitched. “How did…” ‘you know?’
Husker laughed, “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t tell him. Bartender’s honor.”
He side-eyed the cat-bird. “Sure, and I’m the Queen of England.”
Husker held his hands up placatingly. “Hey, those are your words, not mine. But seriously, I know what it’s like to have your secrets outed, you don’t have to worry about me.” And something in his voice made him want to believe the man.
In a show of good faith, he held his hand out for a moment while Husker looked between it and his face, confused, before finally taking it. “The name’s Vox, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You can call me Husk.”
The television head tilted, “Husk? But didn’t Alastor call you -”
“Yeah and he also calls me ‘birdy’ but that ain’t my name. He calls me ‘Husker’ to annoy me ‘cuz he knows I won’t fight him. I can pick my battles unlike the majority of these sinners.”
An understanding crossed between them at that point. An acknowledgement that each of them were smarter than the average Joe and that they had just made an unexpected ally.
“Well, Husk, I’ll have one more round. How ‘bout that?”
And as his new friend turned around to pour his glass, Vox quickly left the payment and a note on the bartop and fled the building.
When Husk turned back to a now-empty seat and unfolded the note, he smirked.
This one’s for you. ;)
~~~~
The walk back home was filled with the sounds of torture and death. Vox couldn’t care less.
He was semi-busy sorting out his thoughts, being extra careful not to broadcast them now that he’d been made aware that that was a thing he could do in the first place.
When he made it to the entertainment industry was when he noticed that the ambiance had shifted. Where there had once been the screams and smell of decay, now there was only a slow jazz tune wafting through the air.
The show host looked around himself, confused at where the music was coming from when he realized that it was inside his own head.
‘Oh.’
The tune sustained his trek all the way home and once he had taken off his shoes and settled on the couch did he tentatively try to reach out to the other broadcaster.
‘Alastor?’
‘There you are, my dear. Took you long enough to respond.’
Vox scoffed, even though it was just a voice in his head, he could imagine the kind of smile that Alastor would be wearing right now: teasing and jovial.
‘Well, sorry if I didn’t want to let my guard down while I’m out in the streets of literal Hell.’
‘You seem to be doing a good enough job at surviving so far. I thought it would be a piece of cake to have a simple conversation as well, given how bold you were earlier.’
Bold?
How was he bold other than sitting beside the Radio Demon? Or maybe that’s what he was referring to?
‘I can sense your hesitation, dear. Perhaps you need a reminder of what you thought when you saw me earlier?’
Oh no. He did hear him think he was beautiful.
‘Fuck.’
‘Yes, that seems an appropriate response. Would you care to explain where your audacity comes from?’
Even though he could cut the broadcast and keep his thoughts to himself, he still felt like he had to scramble for a response, ‘Shit, umm wait hold on, fuck… Well, for starters, I mean it’s only natural right? I can’t help the things I think. I know it might not be what you want to hear especially coming from a guy but I’m not going to deny that you’re stunning and that I want to keep talking with you. Fuck I was so obvious, even Husk knew just from looking at me, of course the person who can apparently hear my thoughts would address it but hey, this doesn’t have to change anything, alright? We can still have a drink and chat sometime? I just won’t say you’re beautiful ever again, deal?’
After Vox ended his stream of consciousness rant, he waited with baited breath for Alastor’s response.
He waited… And waited…
‘Alastor?’
‘I’m sorry, you thought what about me?’
Huh? Did he not hear him? He had thought the radio telepathy power wouldn’t have a flaw such as not being able to hear correctly…
‘What do you mean? The part where I thought that you’re beautiful? Or the part where -’
‘You think I’m…?’
Why was Alastor acting like he hadn’t heard this part before?
So does that mean…
He just outed himself for no reason? Wait so then what was Alastor referring to earlier? Well, first things first, he has to lie in the grave he dug.
‘Well, yeah, even a blind person could see that.’ He said that a little too sarcastically, what if Alastor thinks he’s not serious? So he tacks on, ‘Seriously, do you own a mirror, you should know this by now.’
‘But you know that I could kill you and feast on your flesh. Broadcast your screams for years?’
‘Doesn’t make you any less attractive, doll. If anything, the danger adds a layer to your appeal.’
‘Appeal…?’
‘You’re acting like you’ve never been courted.’
‘...’
‘Wait, for real? Not even when you were alive?’ That was simply too hard to believe. There’s no way he looks this good in Hell and not be even half as attractive on Earth.
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘That says enough in and of itself. Wait, so what were you talking about earlier?’ Back on track.
‘You were thinking you would walk away with my soul in a contract.’
Opps…
‘Oh… yeah I guess I did at the beginning.’
‘But not at the end?’
‘No, I was admittedly distracted by that point.’
‘By… me?’
‘Yes, by you, who else?’
‘I… think it’s best we don’t talk again.’
‘No! Sorry, I mean, I won’t reach out if you really don’t want me to but it sounds like you’re just running away.’
‘I don’t run away.’
‘Then meet me tomorrow. Same time, same place. Drinks are on me.’
Silence for minutes and Vox was just about to give up when Alastor’s voice rang through his head once more, ‘Fine.’
He could feel the open broadcast turn off and after waiting a few seconds just to be sure, he jumped in victory before the realization set in… He was going to have to woo the Radio Demon, the guy who tortured people On Air just for fun, the guy who quickly made a name in Cannibal Town as the most bloodthirsty demon in The Pentagram.
He didn’t even know if Alastor was into guys or not.
Oh no.
He certainly has his work cut out for him this time but he was nothing if not determined.
~~~~
Tomorrow came much too soon.
Vox had stayed up all night planning and stressing about how he was going to win the Radio Demon over when he went to the bar and ultimately settled on a ‘Master Plan’ that included but was not limited to convincing Alastor to meet at least once a week for drinks and chat and once a week for an actual date of which they’d take turns choosing the locations or activities.
This would surely go over well. Right?
Yeah.
Nevermind that this is only Vox’s first attempt to court someone in Hell and nevermind that this would be his second time planning a date in his existence but still; he knew enough to put together at least a semi-entertaining evening for the two of them.
‘Picture box.’
Said picture box startled, the words came into his head much too loud in the otherwise silent apartment.
‘Shit! What the hell, Alastor?’
‘Hahaha’ was all he got in return. Damn that man.
He hoped that the other would at least respond to a question, ‘It’s not time to meet up yet. What’s up?’
‘Oh nothing important, it’s simply that your thoughts have been filtering in and out of the radio waves all night and it’s rather annoying.’
Vox slapped a hand to his face. Fuck, of course they would. He’d been so distracted with planning that he hadn’t put as much conscious effort into silencing his internal broadcast.
‘Heh, sorry about that. I’m just excited, I guess.’
‘Excited for your second date?’
‘Fuck, you heard that part?’
‘Indeed I did.’
‘Alright fine, you got me. But that’s still twice as many as you’ve had so I win.’
‘You can’t beat someone who was never playing the game in the first place, picture box.’
‘You mean you were never interested in anybody?’
‘No, I’m afraid humans in my time were much too dull for me. I didn’t want to waste my time on fruitless endeavors.’
‘I feel special now,’ Vox teased.
‘We shall see.’ And before he could say anything else, Alastor spoke again, ‘Keep your thoughts to yourself.’
Annnd he’s gone.
Well, not entirely, because he could push his thoughts to the Radio Demon but he figured it best if he didn’t annoy the man who was still temporarily entertaining him and his hopes.
And then hopefully, it won’t be so temporary.
~~~~
Evening rolled around and Vox had picked out his best business casual suit he could find in his closet. Currently, he was strolling down the block towards the restaurant, minding his own business and zapping the wayward sinners that thought they could get the jump on him.
One of the benefits of being an Overlord was that he had a leg up on all the lowlifes. When he first manifested and got in a fight with some demon or another, he only won by a hair. It took hours for the blood to leave his lungs and weeks for those ribs to slot themselves back in place.
Now, if he got injured, he would brush it off, knowing the surface damage would take minutes to heal and the internal stuff would stitch together within the hour. That was assuming all of him was still intact. He’d seen the ways some demons wouldn’t be allowed to reform because their limbs and head would be separated by great distances.
The red of the sky remained constant as always but somewhere in the distance, towards the center of The Pentagram, ten bell chimes rang out, signaling that he was right on time as the restaurant came into view.
He shouldn’t have been surprised that Alastor was already there at the bar talking to a very disgruntled looking Husk.
Vox came up behind the Radio Demon and set his hand on his shoulder as he sat down in his seat, “Hey Al, what’s shaking?”
Almost immediately, static filled the air and all functions in the restaurant ceased. Alastor’s horns grew and his eyes slitted into radio dials before he stopped himself and seemingly took a breath. His normal appearance returned in the blink of an eye.
Vox looked at Alastor wearily, “You doing alright?”
Alastor cleared his throat before beckoning for another glass of brandy for himself and Vox. ‘How sweet.’
“Quite. My apologies, dear. I just wasn’t expecting such familiarity so soon.”
His eyes bulged. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
The Radio Demon waved his apology away with his hand, not wanting to hear any more of his drivel most likely. “What’s past is past. I’m not one to hold grudges against friends.”
“So you two are friends now? When the fuck did that happen?” Husk appeared before them with their drinks which Vox produced coins for. That didn’t seem to help matters much as Husk raised an overly large eyebrow at Vox for paying for both of them.
Alastor side-eyed Husk as he slightly nodded at Vox in thanks. He brought his glass to his lips to take a sip and graciously ignored Vox’s eyes tracking the movement. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Husker.”
Husk scoffed a laugh, “As if. I know everything that goes on around this town. Bartenders have a reputation for a reason, y’know. Everyone’s business is my business.”
“Just go back to the casino, I’m sure my friend here could pour our drinks just fine.” Husk sent an analytical gaze his way and Vox held his hands up placatingly while shaking his head no.
“You may own this place but you don’t own me.”
Vox threw his hands up, effectively butting into the conversation, “Wait, this is your restaurant?”
“Please don’t belittle me, this whole subdivision is my territory.”
He had known that Alastor was powerful with the amount of soul contracts he held but to find out that he also owned this whole town was kind of insane to think about.
“Think you broke him, boss.”
“Hmm, I suppose we’ll call it even then.”
Even?
Oh right. He did kind of stop responding for a while when Vox complimented him.
What if…
Before he could enact his plan of complimenting his companion, Husk cut in again, “Now that sounds like an excellent story. Care to share?”
“No,” both Overlords said at the same time then shared a glance.
A smile broke out on Vox’s face while Alastor’s own turned a bit more genuine.
From there, it was easy banter between the three of them. A darker part of Vox wished Husk would leave them alone but seeing as they were still his only customers, he didn’t begrudge the man.
All too soon, the restaurant closed and they were promptly kicked out of the building by a stout little old lady wielding a spoon as a weapon. Vox respected her. Any employee working under Alastor’s thumb who still had their backbone to stand up to him deserved it.
Once out on the street, Vox offered, “Care to walk with me?”
“Where are we going?”
He gestured up the street, “I was thinking of that little garden up ahead but given that you own it, you might be bored of stuff around here so I’m fine with wherever you want to go.”
“Ah yes, the skull garden. I do so enjoy the company of someone with refined tastes such as mine.”
Skull garden?
Indeed there were skulls. There were a plethora of bones arranged in plant formations and Alastor took great pleasure in Vox’s discomfort if his laugh was anything to go by.
The conversation stayed light and Vox was trying desperately to keep his thoughts to himself this time.
Thoughts like, I hope this night never ends, and I want to hold his hand. Going by Alastor’s subtle glances his way every now and then when he got a particularly strong urge, he could tell he wasn’t succeeding very well.
Eventually, around the time they were passing the pyramid of ribs, Alastor rolled his eyes and grabbed Vox’s hand from where it was waving in the air as he was talking about how his studio could film a drama at this garden and Vox stopped mid-sentence. He stared at the way their hands fit together almost perfectly, fingers slotted in between one another, both careful of their claws against the other’s skin.
Vox opened and closed his mouth a couple times before stuttering back to life and continued to talk about the set ideas. Not ignoring the action, simply trying not to make a big deal about it even though he was most definitely spamming their frequency with panic.
Alastor didn’t mention it.
Once they had made their way back to the start of the garden, Alastor turned to Vox and quietly, almost reluctantly, said, “Thank you. For tonight. It was good entertainment.”
Vox laughed in surprise, “No problemo. Would you want to go out with me again? I have some programs I’m airing this week but next week I’m a bit more flexible with scheduling.”
He left out the fact that his flexibility would be because he was planning on taking over the studio after demolishing his dick of a boss. Not that Alastor wouldn’t approve but because he didn’t want word of his plan to get back to his boss from some random sinner who happened to overhear.
“I’m amenable to that. Just let me know when.”
Vox beamed, “Great! I’ll see you then.”
With that, Alastor melted into the shadows and Vox was left to walk back to his apartment in the entertainment sector.
Next week was going to be so fun.
~~~~~
Next week turned out to not be so fun…
Don’t get him wrong, his date with Alastor was going to be fantastic but it was the fact that his boss proved to be a bit more difficult to tear apart than he had previously anticipated. He was currently sporting a broken arm, ten bruised ribs and multiple fractures. Not at all how he wanted to appear for Alastor.
Nevertheless, he showed up to his date in slightly more casual clothes than last time: a sweater vest and slacks sans tie. The crack on his screen over his eye was not a part of the outfit but oh well. It was either be late for his date or go to a parts store for a new one. He could deal with it for one night.
“Well don’t you look pathetic.”
Vox turned around to face behind him, Alastor stood there in all his regalness and glory, not a hair out of place.
“Pleasure as always, Alastor. You look fantastic.” he smiled genuinely.
And he did, Alastor was in pristine condition. His suit jacket was nice and starched. Even his ears looked especially fluffy today like he had actually brushed them out. It made warm feelings tickle his stomach. “You didn’t happen to put in any extra effort for little old me now, did you?”
And even though the deer rolled his eyes, a light dusting of blush reached his cheeks. “Of course not,” he denied, “Why would I go and do that?”
Vox reached up to stroke along one of Alastor’s ears and pet it gently, feeling the softness that the Big Bad Radio Demon did possess and if Vox surely wasn’t hallucinating right now, he’d say Al was actually leaning into his grasp.
Then again, he wanted to keep his head attached at the moment so he concluded that even if his visual receptors were correct, he better not mention it.
Then again, he’s kind of a big softie anyways, he wouldn’t hurt me… Probably.
Alastor pulled away before too long, his blush definitely darker now that he had caught himself enjoying Vox’s touch.
“What did you have in store for today, my good fellow?”
That seemed to snap Alastor out of his thoughts as he smirked wickedly and said, “A hunt and a feast.”
Vox was immediately wary. Alastor was a cannibal but Vox most certainly was not nor did he have any intention of joining him in that little hobby.
Alastor read his face and laughed, “Oh don’t look so out of sorts, chum. The feast is for me but you are going to hunt for it. Call it a team effort.”
“Alrighty, sounds like a plan.”
They went to the rooftops to search for their victim. “Y’know what they say: gamers don’t look up.” Was Vox’s excuse when Alastor said they could just as easily grab someone from an alleyway.
They eventually spotted some goat sinner shouting horrible things to the people leaving one of the sex clubs and their target was acquired.
Grabbing the guy was no problem at all, the problem came when he started dragging him away while following Alastor’s path and he started kicking and he kicked hard. Still, Vox held strong and sent a couple volts of electricity into the goat.
They made their way to some run down part of town and into what looked to be an old-fashioned recording studio. This must be Alastor's.
Once they got to the recording room, he handed the victim over to Alastor. The sinner went in kicking and screaming but his strength clearly did not even come close to Alastor’s. Just as he was about to close the door, Alastor turned to him with radio dial eyes and warned, “Do not enter this room until I give you permission.”
Vox nodded his understanding.
The door shut and the On Air light lit up signalling that he was broadcasting live to all of Hell.
Alastor’s form changed as the scent of blood wafted into the room even though the door was closed. Alastor tore the sinner apart. First, finger by finger and then limb by limb. Vox could only watch on with something that was both fear and intrigue mixed together as the red demon before him started eating each and every one of the pieces.
Once the carnage was over and there was not a speck of flesh to be seen, Alastor stood up straight and adjusted his bowtie, form returned to normal. He was still drenched in blood but didn’t seem to give a single flying fuck about that.
Alastor waved his hand and the broadcast ended, the light clicking off.
He turned to where Vox was watching on from behind the one-sided glass and said, “Do you still think I’m beautiful? Someone to cherish? To hold dear? Do you still yearn for my approval and adoration?”
The longer Al went on in his questions, the more Vox’s resolve on his promise to not enter the studio broke. He longed for the chance to get his hands on Alastor. To hug him and hold him gently. To tell him he mattered to him and that he wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the world.
He had seen the monster Alastor the Radio Demon could become but that didn’t erase what Vox saw in Alastor the sinner. The way he had leaned into his touch earlier that day, the way he had had every opportunity to rend him apart in every torturous way imaginable and still chose to let himself be soft in his presence. It made a world of difference to Vox and he would give anything to keep it.
He tried to convey his feelings over the radio waves. Not with words this time but full-on feelings, every complicated twist and turn that he had taken just now and shoved it over the broadcast towards Alastor.
He saw the moment it reached the cannibal and he saw the moment that Alastor broke and let himself return his own feelings over the waves towards Vox.
It nearly crushed his heart.
The intensity of everything Alastor had felt about him since they met was wrenching his chest open and exposing his beating heart to the world at large.
They were trapped in a feedback loop, he realized. Each of them bearing their souls to each other and relishing in the fact that they could bask in their shared feelings.
The thought snapped him out of it and he reluctantly broke off his end of the broadcast.
It took a moment for Vox to remember to breathe and regain function of his limbs but once he did, he looked to Alastor. He was just standing there in the recording booth, not doing anything, simply staring into the space just over Vox’s shoulder though he had no way of knowing where Vox was.
So he was staring blankly into thin air it seemed.
All Vox wanted to do was go to him, but he had promised not to enter the booth without permission. But Alastor was stuck right now. Stuck in the loop that was currently being sustained by the residual of Vox’s feelings and his own.
That left the only thing to do was for Vox to reenter the loop and snap Al out of it.
He had to.
‘Al, come back to me.’
Nothing.
‘Al!’
‘Picture box…?’
‘Yes! Al, you need to snap out of it.’
‘I… can’t…’
‘What do you mean? You have to!’
‘I’ve never felt this before, I don’t want to leave…’
‘Then let me inside the booth?’
‘...Okay…’
Vox wasted no time at all in throwing open the door to the room and rushing over to Alastor and wrapping him in a hug.
Al absolutely melted in his arms, sagging into his chest like he could meld their flesh together if he just willed it a little more.
Vox slowly guided them to sit on the floor, or in Alastor’s case, he was laid down with his head in Vox’s lap where said TV demon gently carded his hands through his hair and over his ears.
It took a while but Al slowly came back to the land of the present.
He lifted his head up to meet Vox’s eyes and smiled sweetly, “Thanks for bringing me back, Vox.”
The Television Demon stared, shocked. He didn’t say anything for at least a minute until Alastor started dissecting him with his stare trying to find the flaw in his partner.
“You said my name.”
Alastor’s smile turned lopsided, “Well, yes, it is your name, dear.”
Instead of jumping for joy and giggling like a school girl, Vox asked breathlessly, “Can I kiss you?”
And instead of answering, Al simply brought himself up to kiss Vox. Just a peck, but it spoke volumes.
This time Vox did giggle, only a little bit, but if you ever told anyone they’d never believe you.