Work Text:
“So, I said, I said, you’re going to do what I say or else you’re going to end up as three-day old gas station sushi.”
Husk snuck a peek at Vox as they strolled down the main street of the Entertainment District. He was talking animatedly at the Gambling Overlord, hands and arms flying every which way while he explained how he had taken out a school of trout Sinners with minimal assistance from Alastor. There was a slap and Husk snickered when he realized that Vox had clapped his hands together emphatically.
“And they had the audacity to fucking try me after that, so I stunned the big guy and stabbed the one with the weird neck – you remember that guy, right, Al?” Alastor hummed affirmatively, though Husk doubted it mattered anymore. Vox was already on a roll and the only thing that was going to stop him was getting hit by an eighteen-wheeler. Honestly, if the sheer, raving mania in his eyes was any indication, that wouldn’t do a damn thing either.
“Well, I stabbed him right in his stupid throat and he was all like, ‘oh no! Not my throat! You stabbed me right in the fucking throat!’ Except, you know, he couldn’t say that because he had a knife in his windpipe. So, then I kicked him in the balls, just to be on the safe side, and he fell right down like a sack of potatoes. Just boom! Fucker was on the ground!” Vox cackled unnervingly and Husk could see his eye starting to spiral. “But you know what, Husk? Al wouldn’t have even needed to get involved except one of the bastards just came up behind me like ‘ah! I’m a fucking fish guy!’ and I almost didn’t see him. Almost, but I did see him, stupid motherfucker, only I didn’t turn quick enough and it’s a good thing Al’s got those shadow things, right?”
Vox paused to catch his breath, looking around for a moment. “Oh, hey, that’s the place that sells the bowties you like, Al. You wanna look for a tie?”
“I’m set on ties, my dear.”
“Cool.” Vox stared at the storefront for another uncomfortable second. “Cool, cool. Say, you know what, I’m going to go look. Wait for me? I’ll just be like five minutes. Not even.” He pointed with unnecessary aggression at Husk. “Fucking time me. I bet I’m in and out in less than five minutes.”
He disappeared in a flash of blue-white lightning, no doubt off to terrorize the shop’s hapless employees. Husk let out a low whistle and Alastor pressed his finger against the bridge of his nose, eyes fluttering shut.
“What the actual fuck is his deal?”
“The trout fellows were in the middle of delivering a shipment of cocaine when we bumped into them. One of the bags opened and just-” Alastor mimed an explosion with the hand that was pressing hard against his face. “And now Vox is a raging maniac.”
“What, just now?” Husk laughed and Alastor shook his head.
“Oh, this is so much worse.” Alastor opened his eyes, dropping his hand to his side with a sigh. “He hasn’t slept in days. Days, Husk. And he won’t eat or drink anything and I’m fairly certain his heart is just going to explode at this rate.”
“Wait, days?” Husk tilted his head, watching a faint blue streak through the store. “How the fuck is he still on his feet?”
“Sheer stubborn idiocy.” Alastor glanced at the other Overlord. “Now, Husk, you know how much I hate to ask for favors – but I’m desperate.”
“How desperate?”
“I considered tearing his head from his neck last night when he wouldn’t just go to sleep.” Alastor’s eye twitched and Husk grinned meanly. “But I’d rather not have to murder him. That’ll just mean that he won’t talk to me for days after he regenerates. And there’s no guarantee he won’t still be high when he does regenerate.”
Husk nodded. That was true. Regeneration was an absolute crapshoot. He’d woken up once with a bullet still lodged in his forehead and had spent a miserable three days until the slug worked its way through his brain and out through his soft palate. Spitting out the bullet that had killed you was a special treat that Hell offered free of charge.
“So, can you help?”
Husk glanced towards the storefront, where Vox was now standing in the picture window. He had a wad of fabric clutched in his hand that Husk could only assume were ties and was pointing from Alastor to his clenched fist. Whatever he was mouthing was completely inaudible and, figuring that out after a few seconds, Vox leaned forward with wide eyes. Alastor’s eye twitched again and Husk laughed when he realized that Vox was accessing their special little frequency to mentally shout at the Radio Demon.
“Husk.” Alastor raised his eyebrows dramatically as Vox disappeared into the store once more. “I am a man on the edge.”
“The edge of what?” Husk asked, just to be an asshole. Alastor whipped his head around on his neck, audibly snapping the vertebrae. Husk just crinkled his nose in distaste.
“If he drives me insane, so help me, I will make it everyone else’s problem, too.” The Radio Demon’s eyes darkened and a dreadful hiss rattled up through the rising static. “I will strip flesh from bone, drink the blood of any innocents that cross my path, and I will drag all the souls I can catch into madness with me.” His grin sharpened menacingly. “Including yours.”
Husk scoffed. Fucking drama queen.
“Fine, I’ll help you.” He gestured to the storefront and Alastor’s eyes returned to normal. “What do you want me to do with his crazy ass, anyways?”
“I don’t know!” Alastor looked like he was already halfway mad as it was. Well, maybe three quarters of the way to madness since the fucker was already halfway insane as his baseline. The red haired demon threw his arms in the air. “Just get him to stop!”
“I could… you know…” Husk made a crude gesture and Alastor’s nose wrinkled before his expression turned thoughtful.
“That was rather effective with him, wasn’t it?” He hummed thoughtfully. “All right. Where?”
“Since I’m assuming you don’t have any toys in your cloister, we could do it at my place.” Husk shook his head at Alastor’s raised eyebrow. “Up in the penthouse, not in my office. I don’t normally fuck in my office, okay? You really think I’m a massive deviant, don’t you?”
“I assume everyone is a massive deviant, my good man. This is Hell, after all.” Fair point.
“Oh, here he comes.”
The two Overlords cringed back slightly as Vox flew out the door, arms loaded with much more than a few bowties. He grinned up at Alastor manically.
“I found so many good things in there, you have no fucking idea!”
Husk tapped Alastor’s forearm. “Give me an hour and then bring him over.”
“Over where?” Vox shifted the plethora of paper bags weighing him down. “Are we going somewhere? Oh! Wait! Is it a surprise? You know what? I love surprises!”
Husk shook his head and strolled away, listening to Alastor trying to talk Vox down with amusement.
An hour later Husk was sitting in his living room, flipping through the channels on his television, trying not to let nerves get the better of him. He had taken a quick shower and laid out anything that he thought might be useful in subduing the television demon, including a selection of downers. Worse comes to worse, he could always just drug the little man unconscious and hope that he’d sleep off the worst of it.
The fur on the back of his neck prickled and he glanced over his shoulder to see Alastor materialize from the shadows, a wide-eyed Vox clutching him around the waist. Fuck, no. The little bastard was not going to throw up on his carpet. He just had a new one installed and it was not going to be christened with whatever was left in Vox’s stomach at this point. Husk turned and pointed at them.
“Do not throw up–”
Vox hopped away from the Radio Demon and cackled. “Fucking Void travel, man! Can I tell you how awesome it is? So fucking fast!”
Before Husk could protest, Vox had disappeared in a flash of blue-white lightning. Husk slowly looked up at Alastor.
“Is he worse?”
“What, didn’t believe me?” Alastor sneered. He gestured towards the general direction that Vox had disappeared in. “It’s your turn, Husker.”
Husk didn’t even think to tell Alastor to fuck off as a widely grinning Vox zapped back in front of him, between the two Overlords, holding one of the toys Husk had laid out in the master bedroom. Alastor leaned to one side, curiously, eyes widening comically when he caught sight of what the smaller man had in his hands. Husk supposed the expression on Alastor’s face was worth the price of admission – especially when the little Sinner spun the dildo around and pointed it directly at Husk.
“Is all that for me?” Vox asked, expression becoming positively lecherous. “Husk, baby, you really shouldn’t have.”
Husk exchanged a quick look with Alastor then bent forward with a dark grin. “You’re really fucked up today.”
“Uh, yeah!” Vox laughed brightly. “I am so fucked–”
That seemed like a poetic place to begin.
Without warning, Husk cracked his hand against the side of Vox’s head, sending the little man reeling. And ow, fuck! Why hadn’t he thought about how fucking hard a television set was? Resisting the urge to shake the pain out of his hand, Husk caught Vox by the front of his shirt and yanked in him in close. Wide eyes stared up at him and Husk ignored the crackle of radio static rising in the room. After a tense moment, the television demon nodded quickly.
“Good boy,” Husk snarled.
It was easy to manhandle Vox into the bedroom, though he really wished the smaller demon would shut up. He wasn’t even saying anything especially sexy, just babbling any and every thought that apparently flitted through his head. Husk pushed him with more force than what was probably necessary against the bed and tore his clothes off, barely listening to Vox’s protests that he be more careful with his things.
He caught the smaller demon by the shoulders and shoved him onto his knees. What a pretty picture that made. He lowered the waistband on the soft pair of gray sweatpants he had thrown on, pulling his cock out and slowly stroking himself to full hardness. Vox watched him eagerly, then ran his tongue over his digital lips with a cheeky grin.
Husk bent down just enough to catch the bottom of his screen, giving the smaller Sinner a hard enough shake to pull a gasp from his lips. “If I feel teeth, I’ll smash your face in.”
The shadows darkened in the room and Husk became very aware that the Radio Demon was perched on the bed behind Vox. From the corner of his eye, Husk could see the creepy fucker had the radio dials in his eyes, overdramatic piece of shit. Alastor tilted his head with a crack.
“Careful, Husker.”
“You wanted my help?” Not looking away from Vox, Husk sneered. “Then let me help.”
Alastor hissed lowly, clearly agitated but not willing to put a stop to anything. Good. He probably wouldn’t be able to stop if he wanted to at this point, what with Vox looking so fucking delicious on his knees, and any intervention on Alastor’s part would’ve ended in extensive property damage.
“Open up, honey.”
Fuck. Husk’s breath caught in his throat as Vox opened his mouth, letting his tongue slide out suggestively. Kicking off his sweats with ungraceful haste, Husk couldn’t move fast enough to shove himself inside the television demon.
Anchoring himself on either side of the younger Sinner’s head, Husk started off slow. Not out of any respectfulness towards Vox – he doubted that respect was going to be playing a very large role here for the next few hours anyways.
No, he was trying to wrap his brain around how strange the television demon’s mouth felt around his cock. He didn’t have any frame of reference to describe it. Pretty sure he couldn’t compare it to sticking his dick in a toaster (which, he’d only done once, on a drunken dare because it was a Tuesday night in Hell and what the fuck else did he have to do?), but there was something about the faint crackle of electricity and danger that reminded him of that. His eyes slid shut and he let himself sink into the bizarre sensation.
Gradually, he began to pick up speed until he felt Vox’s hands fly up to cling to his thighs. Knowing he was going to regret it, Husk opened his eyes and chanced a look down and… yeah. Exactly what he expected.
Vox was looking up at him, not quite distressed, but definitely starting to struggle with the now harsh pace that Husk was using his mouth. He grinned at the small demon before moving his hand to the back of his head.
“It’s so much nicer when you can’t talk,” Husk told him, starting to feel a little breathless himself.
“Oh, he hasn’t shut up at all,” Alastor chuckled. Husk glanced over at the bed and watched the Radio Demon tap the side of his head. “He’s broadcasting quite loudly.”
Fuck. That was… fuck, that was something. Husk looked back down at Vox’s eyes, which were starting to water, and almost came on the spot when the television demon winked up at him. He pulled out quickly, annoyed that Vox had managed to get the upper hand. The bastard coughed a few times before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.
“Aw, come on, Al,” Vox chided, voice rough. “I almost had him there.”
Fucking pieces of shit, both of them, and if Husk wasn’t so horny, he’d boot them both out. Let Alastor deal with Vox’s crazy entirely on his own. But he was a man of his word or, at least, a man determined to finish what he started.
He hauled Vox back on his feet and spun him around, knocking him face first on the bed. Choosing to ignore Vox’s muffled laughter, Husk snatched a bottle of lube from the bedside table where he’d laid out a few things to keep the afternoon moving along. He didn’t bother to warm it any before slicking his fingers and sinking one inside Vox without a word. The younger Sinner jolted, startled, and sunk his fingers into the comforter with a yelp.
“Fucking cold!”
Good. He hoped it was uncomfortable. He added another finger, slowly down only briefly when he was met with resistance. As much as he was determined to fuck some sense back into Vox’s head, he was surprised to realize that he didn’t really want to hurt him. Not too badly, at least.
“You know, I’m not complaining or anything here, but I’m a visual kind of guy,” Vox grumbled into the mattress. “This whole pinning me facedown into the bed is hot and everything, and again, I’m not complaining because you clearly have a whole vibe going on right now, but it’d be cool if I could–”
Vox’s complaint dissolved into a low moan as Husk purposefully pressed hard against the bundle of nerves inside him, back arching enticingly. Husk looked up and met Alastor’s gaze with a smirk. Wishing he had any kind of insight into what the Radio Demon was actually thinking while watching his lover be fucked by another Overlord, Husk held his gaze while he made Vox gasp desperately against the comforter.
Alastor leaned forward, eyes narrowing dangerously as he slipped effortlessly from his prim gentleman façade to the perfect predator Husk knew he was. For one unsettling moment, Husk wondered what fucking the Radio Demon would be like. For him. He’d seen him with Vox and had seen that he was perfectly capable of being gentle and tender if he had a mind to, but he really, really doubted that extended beyond the television demon. A shiver worked its way up his spine and shamed rage flooded him when he looked away first.
“Get up,” Husk snarled, jerking Vox back onto his feet once more. The smaller man spun around on his own and caught Husk’s face between his hands, kissing him deeply. Husk groaned in approval, glad for the distraction from Alastor’s general menacing assholery. He slid his arm around the smaller man’s waist and tugged him close.
“Please tell me that you’re going to fuck me now,” Vox breathed against his mouth. “I really need you to do that. Like I’m going to fucking murder you if you don’t put your dick in me in five seconds.”
Husk pulled away, laughing at the angry looking sparks that flew from the television demon’s antennae. It probably wasn’t an idle threat, given their history, but Husk rolled his eyes just to make sure Vox was clear that his little threats weren’t going to be taken seriously. He grabbed the smaller Sinner’s arm and dragged him up against the nearest wall.
He hadn’t done this in a long time (mostly because it was absolute hell on his back), but he slung Vox’s leg over his hip with ease. Vox’s eyes widened with undisguised glee and he pulled Husk in for another needy kiss as the Overlord sank inside him. And, shit, the way Vox clenched around him, whimpering against his mouth, was almost enough to make Husk come. Again. A second time. Because, apparently, he could barely control himself anymore.
Unsurprisingly, neither could Vox. Clinging hard to the Overlord’s shoulder, the smaller Sinner twisted his hips with abandon. Husk gasped in surprise, bracing his hand against the wall as he pressed his face against Vox’s throat.
“Slow the fuck down!” he groaned in frustration. The pressure in his gut was building with alarming speed and he gritted his teeth. “You little fucker, stop it!”
Vox laughed breathlessly. “Try and keep up, old man.”
Before Husk could stop him, Vox ground his hips down aggressively and threw himself into an intense orgasm. His hand clenched against Husk’s shoulder, and he whimpered helplessly, head knocking back against the wall.
Husk really did try to hold himself together, he really did, but when Vox went rigid against him, clenching around Husk unforgivingly, he followed right after. Stupid asshole. Husk swore against Vox’s neck as he rode out the sudden waves of pleasure.
For once, Vox recovered more quickly than Husk did and pushed against the Overlord impatiently before Husk even managed to blink the blur from his eyes. With some reluctance, he pulled away, managing to get Vox’s leg down from around his hip before they both crashed to the floor.
Vox patted his head with a patronizing smile that he only got away with because Alastor was in the room. “Good job!” He looked around the room and sighed heavily. “I’m bored now – let’s do something else.”
What in the actual fuck? Husk stared at him in disbelief, not even trying to reach out to grab hold of the television demon before he zapped himself away in a blur of lightning. Alastor hummed.
“Well, it looks like your penis does not have magical healing properties after all.” Husk glowered at him before snatching his pants from the floor and tugging them back on. “More’s the pity.”
“My dick is plenty magical,” Husk retorted and, Lucifer, what was his afterlife that this was an actual conversation he was having? “Maybe your boy is just broken.”
Alastor scoffed and opened his mouth to retort when an alarming crash came from further out in the penthouse followed by nervous laughter.
“Hey, Husk? You weren’t in love with that lamp, right?” Vox called in the distance. Husk gestured towards the general direction where the television demon’s voice was coming from then crossed his arms over his chest. Alastor had the decency to deflate a little. “You know what? Don’t even worry about it – I can fix it.”
“Oh, good,” Husk snapped. “He’s going to fix it.”
“Fuck.” Alastor dissolved into shadows, leaving Husk by himself in the bedroom. He listened for a minute while Alastor tried to convince Vox to surrender the broken lamp before Vox reappeared in the bedroom with a scowl. Said lamp dangled from his fingers.
“You trust me to fix this thing, right?”
Husk shrugged and scooped Vox’s pants from the floor. “No, not really, but put some pants on, man.” He threw them at the younger Sinner’s face, impressed when Vox managed to effortlessly snatch them from the air.
“Yeah, yeah.” Vox dropped the lamp without a care, the lightbulb shattering on the soft carpet in the master bedroom. Husk became further convinced that Vox might just be his personal punishment for whatever unknown cosmic crimes the Overlord had committed. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had done to warrant this, but he must’ve really fucked something up. “Better?”
“Sure.”
Vox sighed and retreated from the room once more. Wrinkling his nose, Husk hurried to the door to the bedroom, closing it even though he knew perfectly well it wouldn’t keep either media demon out – still, though, it was nice to pretend that he had a modicum of privacy. He scooped up the phone and quickly dialed his guy at Pentagram Laboratories.
“Hey, man. It’s Husk.” He glanced back at the bedroom door, groaning inwardly as a weird white light began to glow around the edges. “I need a favor.”
For the next forty-five minutes, during which time Husk gained a new appreciation for Alastor’s patience, the Gambling Overlord took turns with the Radio Demon to keep Vox occupied. It didn’t work very well. Before long, Vox had broken half a dozen items in the penthouse while he flitted tirelessly from task to unnecessary task.
The doorbell had never sounded so sweet.
Husk gestured for his guy to come inside, refusing to be embarrassed by the absolute state of things. Beyond the fact that Husk only had a loose pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, he knew his fur was tangled and matted with fluids that hadn’t bothered him in the moment, but now just felt itchy. The penthouse itself… well, that was in a considerably worse state.
“Have you done some redecorating?” Baxter asked, so completely neutral that Husk couldn’t tell if he was being a jackass or was just that oblivious. From somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen, Husk could hear a pot being slammed down on the gas range. Shit, he should probably intervene in a few seconds if he didn’t hear Alastor get there first.
“Hey, I’m starving. Worked up a real appetite after all that.” Husk listened to the sound of cupboards opening and closing in rapid succession. “Gotta rehydrate and replenish electrolytes. Give the old mitochondria some fuel. Powerhouses of the cell and all that, little fuckers, gotta keep ‘em happy.”
The refrigerator door opened and slammed closed with unnecessary force. Fuck’s sake, Alastor’s itemized bill was getting longer by the minute.
“Y’all want fettuccini?” Vox asked in the increasingly psychotic register his voice had ratcheted up into. Baxter’s eyes widened in surprise. “Because I’m making fettuccini, but I don’t see any alfredo sauce, so we’re gonna have to use whatever this stuff is.”
“Vox,” Alastor said sharply. “That is a jar of mayonnaise. Put it down. Now.”
“No worries! I can fix it, Al. I’ll just put garlic or something in it. No!” There was the unmistakable sound of a struggle as Alastor no doubt attempted to wrest the jar of mayonnaise from Vox’s grip. “No! Fuck you! I can make this work!”
Good thing Husk didn’t embarrass easily. He gestured towards the kitchen. “So… that’s your patient.”
“Ah.” Baxter adjusted his grip on the little science-y doctor bag in his hands. “That’s good. I should be able to collect a significant amount of data today, either way.”
“Either way?”
“Well, there’s no guarantee this will work, of course.” Baxter shrugged. “Tech demons are so unpredictable – they rarely respond to medical or magical interventions in the same way, so what worked for one last week may not work for your friend.”
Husk leaned down, narrowing his eyes and giving the little scientist a vicious grin. “If it doesn’t work, you’re taking him with you.”
An excellently timed scream rang out from the kitchen and Husk only raised his eyebrows meaningfully as several shadow tentacles hoisted Vox through the air and deposited him on the living room floor before slapping over the top of him to pin him to the ground.
“Oh, you fucker!” Vox attempted to chomp at the shadows, having absolutely no luck, but continuing anyways. “I’ll bite all of these right the fuck off!”
Baxter gulped before squaring his shoulders. “I’ll need a blood sample.”
“No fucking way!” Vox struggled harder, scuffing his bare feet against the floor. “You don’t get to have my blood, motherfucker!”
“If he could, um, hold still.” Baxter selected a thin, sinister syringe from his bag and turned to face Vox directly. The television demon snarled threateningly.
“No!” Vox thrashed against the shadow restraints. “Al! Husk’s weird fucking friend wants my blood like a fucking vampire or something.” He whipped his head as much as he was able, searching for the Radio Demon. He snapped his teeth at Baxter and the scientist froze. “Yeah, I’m fucking onto you, Eddie boy, and I ain’t anyone’s spider monkey.”
Husk stared in open mouthed horror, not understanding a single word coming out of the television demon’s mouth. Was his weird little mechanical brain melting inside him or something?
Alastor materialized from the shadows and crouched down beside Vox. He looked considerably worse for wear, ears drooping with obvious exhaustion. With a crook of his claw, he beckoned Baxter closer, and the little fish approached, examining the end of the needle. “If he wants your blood then you need to give it to him.”
“No, wait!” Vox strained against the shadows, letting out a yelp when one of the shadows tightened around his upper arm. Baxter nodded with clinical appreciation and slid the needle beneath Vox’s skin. Electricity snapped up to the ceiling, burning a neat little circle above the restrained demon.
Vox howled in outrage. Luckily for Baxter, his drug-addled brain was too unfocused to aim any of his electrical power directly at the scientist. Withdrawing the syringe much more quickly than Husk had expected, Baxter hurried back to his make-shift laboratory and set to work analyzing the sample he had collected. Husk glanced back over at Vox.
The television demon slumped against the floor, panting from exertion, and Husk felt something like sympathy stir in his dead heart. Little idiot hadn’t exactly asked to be drugged halfway to the moon. Not that he seemed to be making any real effort to fight its side effects, but Husk decided to cut him a little slack.
“This is interesting.”
“Baxter, your definition of interesting is very different than mine,” Husk reminded Baxter, not for the first time. He had hired the little fish to create a unique potion to help keep his employees awake for long shifts while also not bouncing off the walls like Vox currently was. The first batch had resulted in seven of Husk’s dealers staying awake for six days until they fell dead one by one, in various states of sanity. And the second batch had worked more effectively as an aphrodisiac than a stimulant and even though Husk’s casino had made an obscene amount of money that week, he wasn’t interested in competing with Valentino. “Remember what I told you about interesting? Interesting is bad.”
“Hey, Al. Al? Hey, did you know that when you eat pineapple, it eats you right back,” Vox asked. Alastor closed his eyes, face a mask of long-suffering pain.
“Oh.” Baxter leaned back and adjusted his gloves. His eyes darted back and forth behind his goggles. “Well, then, you won’t like this. It appears that your friend has consumed more than just cocaine.”
Shit. Alastor’s eyes began to darken threateningly at that little revelation and the static in the room began rise. Seriously, though, Husk didn’t know why the crazy bastard couldn’t just respond to things like a normal fucking person.
Husk caught Baxter by the elbow and led him to the far side of the room before Alastor decided that he was interested in finding out what Baxter’s trachea tasted like. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s some kind of new stimulant that I haven’t seen before.” He blinked up at Husk. “It’s fascinating.”
“Yeah, I don’t think the Radio Demon is going to agree with you on that one.”
Baxter slowly shifted his gaze to where said demon was staring back at him. Fucking prick that he was, Alastor’s antlers began to extend threateningly. He really didn’t need to try and intimidate the already nervous scientist, especially since Baxter was probably the only one both brilliant enough and foolish enough to even try and help them. “Oh, dear.”
Husk snapped his fingers angrily at Alastor, wishing he had a spray bottle filled with holy water to correct the bastard’s attitude problem. “Knock it the fuck off!” he snarled. “If you eat Baxter, he can’t help your precious television set.”
Vox giggled from the floor. “Aw, you think I’m precious, Husk.” He looked up at Alastor with wide eyes. “Do you think I’m precious?”
“I think you’re out of your mind,” Alastor answered and patted him on the head condescendingly. “And are probably going to regret most of the things coming out of that funny little head of yours.”
Vox sighed heavily, random electrical sparks flying into the air. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I usually am.” Alastor glanced up at Husk and Baxter. “If you’d be so kind as to continue to find some kind of cure, I would very much appreciate it.” He shifted his weight. “Husk’s taste in flooring does leave something to be desired.”
Asshole. Fucking… just. Asshole.
“Hurry up,” Husk snapped at Baxter and the little fish scurried back to his makeshift laboratory.
Husk sat down on the couch near the media demons, trying hard not to notice the adoring looks Vox was giving Alastor. In between trying to snap his hand from his arm, of course. He was getting emotional whiplash just watching the television demon.
“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” Baxter finally piped up and Husk stood up a little straighter. “It appears that his body is metabolizing the stimulants.”
“Which news is that?”
Baxter chuckled nervously. “It’s bad. He’s metabolizing it, but it’s taking significantly longer than it should and, instead of wearing off like it normally would in a purely organic being, it appears that the electrical energy supporting his mechanical components is increasing the stimulant’s potency.”
Husk glanced over at Alastor. The Radio Demon was absentmindedly stroking the top of Vox’s head, careful to avoid the snap of sharp teeth as the television demon periodically continued to try to bite his way free from the shadow tentacles. The prick looked half fucking feral.
Because he didn’t completely lack self-preservation instincts, Husk didn’t voice his sudden desire to see how a feral Vox fucked. He watched Vox snap at Alastor’s fingers, missing them by a hair, and swallowed roughly. There’d probably be a lot more biting than Husk was into, anyways, so best to leave some things unsaid.
“So…”
“He’s going to keep getting worse until all of his systems shut down.”
“He dies,” Husk clarified.
“Yes. And I’m not sure yet how permanent that would be.”
Fuck. No, that was not going to work. Alastor would lose his fucking mind. Frankly, Husk would be none too happy, either – he was getting used to the little dumbass. He rubbed his palm over his face and groaned.
“You had good news?”
“Yes!” Baxter hurried over to his bag, dug around for a minute, and emerged with a small black box attached to a cable tipped in blue. He waved it at Husk excitedly. “It’s a factory reset device. It’s designed to neutralize all foreign materials inside any tech-based demon. Viruses, bacteria, parasites…”
“Drugs?”
Baxter nodded enthusiastically. “And drugs!”
“You guys got drugs over there?” Vox called, and how the fuck could he hear them? Husk narrowed his eyes.
“Alastor. Shut him the fuck up for a minute.”
Husk knew Alastor hated to be ordered to do anything, but this time he instantly complied by wrapping a shadow around Vox’s head, covering his mouth. The little Sinner screamed with impotent rage. Husk gestured for Baxter to continue.
“Yes, well, I’d just have to plug it into the right port and turn it on.” He glanced over at Alastor. “It’s very point and click.”
“I don’t know what that means,” the Radio Demon replied.
Wait a second. “If it’s a factory reset, does that mean that he’s going to just… go back to the way he was when he dropped into Hell?”
Vox’s eyes widened and gave his head as hard a shake as he could with the shadows restraining his movements. Baxter chuckled nervously.
“Maybe? As I said, every tech demon is different.” He held up his hands placatingly. “But I think it’s our only option.”
To Husk’s surprise, the shadows surrounding Vox’s mouth dissolved. “Don’t I get a say in any of this?” the small Sinner snapped angrily. “I don’t want my brain wiped clean. Just tabula rosa the whole thing. I won’t do it.”
Before he could continue, Alastor caught the bottom of his screen to guide his face so that he could make eye contact with Vox. “I don’t think you really have a choice, my dear.”
Vox’s eyes flashed over to Baxter, who was fiddling with the reset device. It didn’t really look like much, but then again, Husk didn’t have any ports in the back of his head that allowed someone else to just wipe everything clean, so he probably didn’t have the best frame of reference here. Baxter glanced between the two Overlords.
“I’m not sure how it's going to react with any magic present.” Alastor’s eyebrows shot up. “But I still need him to be kept still.”
Well, this was awkward. Alastor glanced up at him and Husk shrugged, playing at nonchalance. “Give him here.”
“Stop!” Vox thrashed against the shadows as they swept him up from the floor and deposited the little Sinner firmly in Husk’s lap. Before he could rip a chunk of the Overlord’s throat out, Alastor caught his head between his hands and held him still. A flash of electricity singed the fur on Husk’s arms and he tightened his grip with a grunt of annoyance. “Husk, please. Just put me down. Please! I’ll stop being a pain in the ass, I swear. I’ll be good!”
Baxter inserted the plug into one of the ports on the back of Vox’s head, ignoring the high-pitched mechanical whine emitting from the television demon.
“Al, no!” he pleaded, struggling to twist around to fix his desperate stare on the one person in the room Husk was sure he trusted. “I don’t want to!”
“Shh,” Alastor soothed, though he didn’t look especially sold on the plan either. “Close your eyes and it’ll be over in a flash.”
Husk cradled the television demon a little bit closer, privately enjoying the warm weight of the younger Sinner in his lap. Even if he was struggling against him and starting to work himself into a genuine panic.
“No,” Vox whimpered. “No, no, no.”
With a flick of a switch, the television demon’s body went completely rigid for a moment, his eyes widening impossibly and Husk felt the blast of electricity radiate out from the younger Sinner. Vox fell limp almost immediately after, face dissolving into black and Husk readjusted his hold on the unconscious demon.
Baxter detached the cable from the back of Vox’s head and set about jotting something down in his little notebook. The penthouse was eerily quiet as Alastor released his grip and slowly walked over to sit beside Husk on the couch where, Husk was sure, he could watch Vox’s face for any changes. For once, he didn’t look like a complete asshole, just an exhausted man ready for this bizarre day to be over.
After about ten minutes, Vox began to stir as his screen lightened to reveal a dazed expression on his face. He swallowed roughly, gaze landing on Husk first and the Overlord raised an eyebrow. It would really be great if the television demon didn’t say something completely out of hand right now.
“What…” Vox coughed then cleared his throat. “What’s new, pussycat?”
Husk snorted. It was better than it could have been. He smiled back benevolently. “Hey, dumbass, how’s the head?”
“Sore,” Vox managed and shut his eyes for a minute. “Ugh, I feel hungover.”
“I can imagine,” Alastor said quietly.
Absolute fury filled Husk’s cold, dead heart when Vox blinked his eyes open and focused his gaze on the Radio Demon, face brightening with pure adoration. If Husk held onto him a little tighter when Vox tried to wriggle free, he couldn’t be blamed. Fuck, why the fuck should he give a shit if Vox looked at Alastor like he was the best thing since fucking sliced bread? With a barely audible growl, Husk dropped his hold on the younger demon and watched with narrowed eyes as Vox scrambled from his lap and over to Alastor.
“Oh, hey, Al.” Vox plopped himself in the Radio Demon’s lap like he fucking belonged there, and Husk looked away when he pulled Alastor’s face towards his for a kiss. “Hi.”
“Hello, Vox.” Alastor shifted his weight, no doubt to accommodate the Sinner in his lap. “You’re looking sane again.”
“Nah, not really,” Vox laughed quietly. “Back to baseline levels of insanity, so that’s all right.”
Husk scowled and got to his feet while the two lovebirds playfully bantered. He fumbled in his pocket where he had stashed his wallet after calling Baxter. Shoving a wad of bills in the little fish’s waiting hand, he jerked his head towards the door. Get out.
Once Baxter had left and there was nobody to maintain a façade for, Husk settled his gaze unhappily on the media demons. How fucking dare they just cuddle up together on Husk’s couch, without even a thank you, Husk for the Gambling Overlord’s troubles. His chest felt hot with growing rage and, fucking Hell, jealousy.
“Hey, assholes,” he bit out and narrowed his eyes at the startled looks he received. “Time for you to fuck off into the sunset now.”
“What an eloquent way to request our leave,” Alastor replied, shooing Vox gently onto the floor. “You really are such a gracious host, Husker.”
“Choke on a thousand dicks,” Husk snarled. Alastor's grin widened and he stood, catching Vox’s hand as the shadows around them darkened. “I’m sending you the bill for all of this, by the way, shithead.”
“I look forward to it!”
Husk scowled at the Radio Demon free space. Well, that was a fucking teachable moment, wasn’t it? Mark that down as the absolute last time Husk ever did anyone any favors.