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In retrospect, Husk really ought to have just kept walking. The last thing a smart person wanted to be in Hell was a Big Damn Hero ™. Of course, the past couple of months had confirmed to Husk that while he was not a complete idiot, he was also not nearly as intelligent as he had once thought.
Especially when it came to square-headed chatterboxes and their scary dog privilege boyfriends.
He was on his way back from an Overlord meeting (that had been so noticeably ill-attended that Carmilla Carmine had threatened to put a bullet in the head of anyone who dared to miss the next meeting before dismissing them with extreme prejudice). The day was still young - Carmilla still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that half of the Overlords operated at night and didn’t start their waking hours until well into the afternoon, Husk included. But, he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, so he had dragged himself to the meeting.
Surprisingly, Alastor had been absent. Usually, he was one of the most consistent attendees, openly enjoying the petty squabbles between the other Overlords and sometimes needling at them until full blown fist fights broke out in Carmilla’s boardroom. Carmilla had one hard rule – no magic allowed in her territory. So, instead of launching magical attacks from a distance, they were forced into up-close and personal combat. And nobody was as good at personalized assaults as the Radio Demon.
Husk raised a cup of coffee to his mouth, choosing to take a back-alley route to get to his casino more quickly. He had no reason to worry for his safety – the worst he had to worry about from anyone stupid enough to try to ambush an Overlord in broad daylight was the bloodstains they’d leave on his clothes. And he had people to deal with that kind of stuff.
His ears swiveled at the wet, meaty sound of a fist meeting someone’s solar plexus. His first instinct was to shrug and keep walking. It was nearly ten o’clock in the morning and he was ready to throw himself into bed (along with an unhealthy helping of whiskey to relax). But, out of the very corner of his eye, he noticed a tiny little flash of blue-white and his interest was piqued.
Taking another sip of his coffee, Husk strolled over to the lip of the alley and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Surrounded by several angry-looking weasel Sinners, Vox stood with his arms out in front of him, palms up in a placating gesture.
“Now, fellas, I’m sure we can work something out,” the television demon said, taking a step backwards. Husk brushed the side of his jacket open and rested his hand over the pistol he kept strapped to his hip. Didn’t take it out just yet – no sense in bursting in, guns blazing until he knew if he needed to. “It really is a shame about your friend, but you’ve gotta admit that he was asking for it.”
The biggest weasel, a beefy fucker who was at least several feet taller and a couple hundred pounds heavier than Vox, stomped forward. Vox carefully continued to move backwards until his back hit the bricked wall of the alley, and he tilted his head back to maintain eye contact as the massive Sinner closed the gap between them.
“You cut his hands off,” the big Sinner snarled accusingly. Vox’s mouth quirked into a tiny smile. “And then you put them in a fucking bag!”
Husk’s lip curled with disgust. Fucking gross. Vox chuckled and shrugged. “Oh, yeah. I did do that.”
The weasel demon punched the wall beside Vox’s head, crumbling the brick under the blow of his fist. Vox didn’t so much as flinch. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Would you believe it if I told you that I had a craving that only fresh hands could satisfy?” the diminutive Sinner asked. Sweet Lucifer, he was really spending entirely too much time with the Radio Demon. Husk would need to figure out a way to separate them a little more often if he didn’t want Vox to turn into a little Alastor clone. Hell probably wouldn’t last long with two of them running around.
“What?” the weasel Sinner roared in the Vox’s face. “What the fuck does that mean? Are you insane?”
“There’s a better than good chance that I am, yeah.” He let out a tiny yelp as the bigger Sinner caught him by the front of his jacket and lifted him effortlessly from the ground. “Whoa, whoa! Hey, now. No need to get physical.”
“Talk,” the big Sinner snarled, speckles of spit flying onto the glass of Vox’s face. He reached up to swipe them away, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was just making the other Sinner angrier.
“Yikes. Say it, don’t spray it,” Vox started then giggled a little when the Sinner gave him a shake. “Okay, look, I can tell you’re the type of guy who appreciates the truth.”
Husk watched as another of the weasels took out a gun out of his jacket and pointed it directly at Vox’s face. The small Sinner’s eyes darted between the two other demons before his eyes widened with faux fear, mouth opening into a small “O” shape. Husk rolled his eyes.
“You wouldn’t hurt a crazy person, would you?” Vox asked fearfully. To be perfectly honest, his act could use a little work. Husk wasn’t remotely fooled as Vox twisted fruitlessly against the weasel’s massive fist, kicking his feet out a little. “Someone put me up to it! Please, you have to believe me!”
“Who would want you to steal hands?”
Yeah, this was just getting silly now. Husk sighed and took another sip from his cup, wondering if he wanted to just skip the whole going to bed thing and stay up for the rest of the day. He could probably go at least 48 hours before he really felt anything anyways.
“A friend of mine! He loves finger foods!” Vox whimpered breathlessly as the weasel gave him another hard shake. “You know, like those little cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches that make no fucking sense? And look, I know these aren’t ladyfingers, but they should be an acceptable substitute.”
Husk winced when Vox’s head was banged hard against the rough bricks, his screen glitching for a second. A shower of blue-white sparks cascaded from his antennae. When his face reappeared, the fake fear had been replaced by an icy rage that Husk hadn’t ever seen on the smaller Sinner’s face before. As he watched, Vox’s head tilted slowly to the side.
“Ow,” he said quietly. “That hurt.”
The Sinner with the gun stepped forward and pressed it up against the glass of Vox’s face, directly between his eyes. Husk groaned and set his coffee on the ground. Guess he wasn’t going to get to finish that after all. He slid his pistol from its holster and stepped forward as the weasel Sinner cocked his gun.
“And here I was, thinking we were getting along so well, too.” Vox sighed. “What a fucking pity.”
The massive demon stumbled forward against the wall as Vox disappeared in a flash of blue-white lightning. Husk’s wings flexed instinctively as the demons started shouting in confusion, looking for the small Sinner before one of them caught sight of the Overlord watching them. The weasel pointed at Husk, and he raised his pistol before the fucker could say anything and shot him casually between the eyes. Hey, it wasn’t like he used an angelic bullet or anything – bastard could get back to business once his brains found their way back into his skull.
Before any of the other Sinners had figured out that they needed to factor an Overlord’s presence into their scuffle, Vox reappeared behind the weasel who had pressed a gun to his face. He tapped the Sinner on the back, eye spiraling wildly as the demon spun around to face him. Husk fired off another shot, barely missing the biggest weasel, but drawing his attention away from the smaller Sinner.
Husk drew his magic to his fingertips, letting a couple of cards sizzle in his hand. The weasel halted, obviously trying to decide whether to engage an Overlord. Husk’s eyes flickered over to where the gun-wielding weasel was leaning down, face blank as he stared into Vox’s eyes. The little Sinner raised up onto his tip-toes with a cruel smirk spreading across his screen.
“Do me a favor?” Vox stage-whispered and the other Sinner nodded, face completely void of expression. “Do the dirty work for me.”
Huh?
Husk barely had time to process what Vox had said before the weasel raised his own gun to his head and pulled the trigger without an iota of hesitation. The gore splashed mostly to the side, but a spray of brains ended up on the front of Vox’s soft gray suit.
“Oh, come on! Do you know how hard it is to get out bloodstains?” he sneered and stepped forward to kick the dead demon in the stomach. “I fucking liked this suit, too!”
What the actual fuck? He knew Vox could hypnotize people, but he could fucking make them shoot themselves in the head? Fucking dark little American psycho motherfucker, holy shit. Maybe he should wear one of those clear raincoat the next time he decided to go on what really seemed like an unprovoked murder spree?
He fucking compartmentalized that new piece of information and opened his mouth to warn Vox about the weasel approaching him from behind. Keeping his eye on the big fucker, Husk worried that the inexperienced Sinner might be in trouble but Vox zapped away before he could say anything. Just as well, he thought, turning his whole attention to the big weasel.
“You wouldn’t be thinking about doing anything stupid, would you?” he asked, tail switching behind him irritably. Tall, dark, and weaselly eyed the cards sparking red and black magic in Husk’s hand and sneered.
“Why would an Overlord give a fuck about a crazy little piece of shit like that?” An excellent fucking question. Husk shrugged.
“He’s a good fuck,” he answered, firing a card directly into the weasel’s shoulder and grinning as the asshole stumbled backwards, blood pouring down the front of his shirt. “You should probably hurry along now before he gets back – oh, shit. Well, never mind, I guess.”
Husk watched dispassionately as Vox appeared behind the big Sinner and rammed a length of rebar through his thigh, sending the demon sprawling to the ground with a howl. Holding on to the metal, Vox walked around so that he was looking the other Sinner in the eyes before crouching down.
“You know, I wasn’t inclined to take our little altercation personally,” the television demon said. Husk glanced over to where the one remaining weasel Sinner was cowering at the dead end of the alley and decided that he wouldn’t be any trouble. “But, then you had to go and hurt me.”
“Fuck you,” the demon spat. He tried to drag himself away and came to the conclusion that the rebar had him pinned to the ground pretty effectively. He slumped down. “Are you going to kill me?”
Vox gave an affirmative hum. “I mean, I’ve gotta now. How would it look if I didn’t?” He gave the weasel a sympathetic smile. “A man has to look out for his reputation, such as it is. You understand.”
“Fuck you,” the Sinner groaned, letting his head fall against the dirty alley ground in resignation.
“Okie-dokie, Annie Oakley.”
Husk’s nose wrinkled in distaste as Vox caught the other demon around the back of his neck with a small hand and directed an obscene amount of voltage into the Sinner. The Overlord found himself stumbling back a few steps as blood blew out of the demon’s ears and finally snarled at the television demon.
“I think he’s dead now!” he shouted. Vox looked up in surprise, cutting the voltage. Fuck. Husk swallowed hard, telling himself not to vomit as the smell of charred meat assaulted his nose. “Holy shit, man.”
“Yeah.” Vox released the other Sinner’s neck and stood up. “That might have been a bit of overkill, to be fair. That’s my bad.”
Husk pressed his hand to the space between his eyes. He had made a vow when he landed in Hell to not stick his dick in crazy. It had never done him any favors in life and it was definitely not doing him any favors now. Shit, but had Vox seemed crazy the first time they fucked? Husk didn’t fucking know – he had been a little preoccupied at keeping his guard up around Alastor. Maybe the fact that he had died the first time they’d fucked should’ve been a tip-off?
“Husk?”
“What?”
“Can I see your gun?” Husk’s eyes flew open, and Vox held out his hand. “Just, like, for a minute. I promise not to shoot you.”
“Oh, well, if you promise,” Husk growled and reluctantly handed his weapon over. Vox took it with a smile and whipped around before the Overlord could protest, leveling the weapon at the weasel Sinner at the back of the alley. Oh, that’s right. Husk had forgotten about that one.
“No, please! I have a family!”
“Boo hoo,” Vox replied and pulled the trigger. The Sinner slumped down, twitching for a few seconds before falling still. Vox turned and shrugged at Husk. “It’s not even an angelic bullet.”
Husk bit back the urge to agree, deciding the younger Sinner needed some firm fucking mentoring right now. He snatched the gun out of Vox’s hands and secured it in his hip holster before looking back up at the television demon.
“What the actual fuck was that?”
Vox rolled his eyes and turned away, walking back into the alley. “You didn’t have to get involved, Husk. I had it handled.” He glanced back at Husk with a wide grin, but sorry, no. Husk was not going to be swayed by any terrible word play today.
“Did you?” Husk called as Vox made his way to a dumpster and walked behind it. “Because the odds didn’t look great to me.”
“Oh, please. You just wanted to prove what a strong protector you can be. You aren’t fooling anyone, Husk.”
Shit, was that true? He couldn’t deny that the desire to keep the smaller Sinner safe had pushed him into action – he had fucking stopped to watch and make sure Vox was safe, hadn’t he? He could’ve kept walking and just ignored the scuffle. Could be home by now, tucked up in his own bed instead of arguing with the little bastard.
“What are you doing back there, anyways?” Husk called, changing the subject. Vox chuckled.
“Hands!”
Fucking what?
“Hands?”
There was a sharp bang behind the dumpster followed by some swearing and a disheveled but self-satisfied Vox emerged with a brown sack dangling from his fist. He zapped into pure energy and reemerged just feet away from Husk, grin on his face as he held up the bag level to his head.
“Ta-da!” Vox chirped and waved the bloody bag around. Several drops landed on Husk’s lapel, and he growled. “Bag o’ Hands!”
“What…?” Husk stared at the bag with mounting frustration. “No, I’m sorry, you do not have a bag of hands.”
He snatched the bag away from Vox, who let it go with suspiciously little resistance. He tested the bag’s weight before pulling it open and staring down inside. Oh, well, shit. His stomach roiled.
“Well, I don’t know what I expected.”
Vox carefully took the bag back from him. “I’m going to need that, thank you very much.”
“Look, man, I know you’re living in Alastor’s back pocket or whatever, but do I need to fucking worry here?” Husk asked as Vox pulled a plastic garbage bag from his pocket and set the bloody hand bag inside. Oh, was the little fucker afraid to get more blood on his precious suit? “Like, you’re not about to go full Freddy Kreuger on my ass one of these days, right?”
“Aw, Husk, no.” Vox carefully finished sealing off the bag and looked up. “I’m not a serial killer.”
“You say that like one of us is.”
“Well, Al is.”
“I know!” Husk barked out a laugh that could only just be considered this side of sane. “I know! Which is why I don’t know whether to be afraid for you or of you.”
“Probably a little of both, just to be on the safe side,” Vox replied and started walking out of the alley. Husk followed behind, but he did not hurry.
“What, are you like into that shit? Turns you on or something?”
The television demon laughed brightly. “Are you asking if I’m a true crime girlie, Husk? Or, no, I know. You think I’m one of those girls who chases after convicted murders, just hoping against hope that one will fall in love with me, and I’ll be the one to fix him.” He let out a soft, dreamy sigh.
Husk crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. This was getting away from him somehow.
“Why do you have the… hands?”
“These?” Vox waved the bag again. Husk grit his teeth, forcing himself not to pull out his gun and just shoot the younger Sinner in the back of the head. A hard reboot might not be the worst solution. “Well, I needed them for a very specific purpose.”
Husk strode forward, patience snapping like a twig weighed down by ice, and caught the television demon by the shoulder. With no warning, he spun Vox and slammed him against the brick wall of the alley way with a snarl. Vox’s eyes stared up at him, big and wide for a moment, before his mouth relaxed into a grin.
“What specific purpose?” Vox’s free hand instantly flew to his waist, playing with a button on Husk’s jacket. Husk swatted him away impatiently, telling himself to ignore the way his dick instantly took interest in the other Sinner’s invitation. “Stop it!”
Vox sighed and rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. “If you must know, I needed them for a specific electronic component that is crucial for a project I am working on with Baxter.”
Husk’s brain glitched for a moment. Where the fuck was he supposed to start with that?
“You… you needed hands for an electronic – no, wait. You’re working with Baxter now?” Husk stared down at the smaller Sinner who nodded. “But… why…?
“Don’t worry yourself with it,” Vox replied. “It’s a lot of big boy thinky thoughts.”
Asshole.
“Fuck, I should’ve just let them kill you,” Husk snapped. Vox straightened up and Husk suddenly became very aware of how close together their bodies were. He stumbled back a step, no longer bracketing Vox against the wall.
Vox shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Well, not the whole me dying thing, but you could’ve just walked away.” He leaned in, returning his hand to Husk’s waist and Husk let him this time. “Be honest. Were you hoping I’d let you fuck me for saving me? A real knight in shining polyester?”
Husk shoved him away, seething at Vox’s laughter. “I’m leaving.”
“Oh, no! Don’t go!” Vox trotted after him and Husk angrily ignored him. After a few minutes through the twisting maze that was the alley system near the casino, Husk could see a truly massive Sinner just down the alley from them, pinning a much smaller demon face first against the wall. The smaller Sinner, a bizarre cross between an eel and a camera (because, okay, sure why not?), was crying pitifully and begging for mercy.
Husk stopped and debated whether to just walk past this mess or take another route that would add an extra couple of minutes to his trek. Sure, he felt bad for the little eel creature, but he also didn’t make it a habit getting himself involved in altercations that he was not directly involved in. If he started with one, he’d just have to keep going and how exhausting would it be if people started expecting him to rescue them?
Beside him, Vox chuckled. “Gonna hero this one, too?”
“Shut up.”
“Let’s make a deal.” Vox moved in front of Husk so that all he could look at was the television demon. “If I can’t take down Tiny Tim over there, you can swoop in and claim all rights as my handsome rescuer.”
Husk scoffed when Vox leaned forward and trailed a finger suggestively down the front of his jacket before settling it delicately on his belt buckle. He glanced into the younger Sinner’s eyes for a moment and forced himself not to gulp at the intense look he met. “And if you do take down Tiny Tim?”
“Then,” Vox replied, tracing the metal buckle, “you give me twenty souls and acknowledge that I don’t need anyone’s help in this pit.”
“Sweeten the pot,” Husk countered. Vox hummed.
“I’ll fuck you either way.” Okay, now they were getting somewhere. “But, if I win, I get to decide how we do it.”
Husk considered that. It would probably be fine – Vox didn’t seem like a complete degenerate, so there probably wouldn’t be any chains or whips involved. Electricity… well, Husk could get those rubber boots of his out of the closet first. He held out his hand.
“You’re on.”
“Oh, Husk,” Vox said in a mocking, pitying voice. “You really underestimate me sometimes.”
Shit, what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Husk opened his mouth to ask but Vox was already jogging towards the mugger whose luck had just run out. Vox waved his arms above his head and the other Sinner turned to stare him, confusion flooding his face. His victim whimpered and shied away, which, Husk mused, was probably a pretty good reaction.
“Hey, guy, do you have a minute to talk?”
“Who the fuck are you?” the mugger asked. Vox came to stop not far from him and Husk moved in a little closer, just in case.
“Name’s Vox, guy. I was hoping we could have a bit of a discussion, that’s all.” His body was loose, but Husk could tell by the way his arms hung loosely at his sides that the television demon was ready for a fight.
“About what?” The big Sinner exchanged a baffled look with his victim.
“About your car’s extended warranty, of course.” Husk could see the shit-eating grin on the small Sinner’s face and sighed. Vox glanced over at the cowering Sinner and jerked his head. “You ought to get out of here.”
“Yeah, sure.” The Sinner scrambled to her feet and froze for a moment before giving Vox an awkward little nod as thanks. As the demon scurried away, likely equal parts confused and terrified, Vox tilted his head back as the mugger loomed up over him.
“I don’t even have a car,” he snarled.
“No? Well, that’s a shame, it really is.” And, well, didn’t that just set off the big Sinner who threw a punch at Vox who, of course, wasn’t hit. He reappeared next to the Sinner, that mean little grin on his face. “Over here, big guy.”
Before the other demon could swing in his direction, Vox lunged forward for a moment. It took Husk a minute to figure out what just happened until he noticed the small knife hilt stuck in the big Sinner’s side. He roared and tried to wrap a big hand around Vox’s neck only for the television demon to disappear again, snatching his knife back. He reappeared on the other side of the other demon.
“Do you want to know why Achilles was defeated?”
“I don’t fucking know any Achilles!” the big Sinner snarled, trying to catch Vox. The small demon laughed out loud at that.
“Well, of course you don’t, Baby Huey. He’s fucking mythical.” Vox avoided another close call and Husk leaned to the side to keep his eye on Vox as he reappeared behind the big Sinner. “But the Achilles tendon is not.”
“Fucking what–”
Poor bastard didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Vox sank down into a crouch and effortlessly sliced through the back of his leg, just below his calf. Husk winced sympathetically when the big guy screamed and collapsed as his leg gave out underneath him. Fucking psychopath that he was, Vox shot Husk an amused grin, a fresh spray of blood streaked across his screen.
“Fuck,” Husk hissed, fighting the urge to take a step back as Vox got to his feet and walked up over the top of the other Sinner, taking a seat on the small of his back. The big Sinner tried to swat him off, but Vox just slashed his knife against the offending hands until the other demon gave up.
Vox thrust the knife into the big demon’s back, between his ribs, and sat still for a few seconds while the other Sinner howled in pain. He slowly, carefully, took the knife back out and hummed.
“Did you know that I didn’t actually know all that much about anatomy before I landed in Hell?” The big Sinner started to cry against the dirty ground of the alley. “Didn’t really have to a need to know, or the desire, if we’re being honest with one another. I wasn’t the type of guy who got his hands dirty much – I mean, you know, I absolutely had a couple of kills under my belt by the time I died, but I really preferred to use a gun. Not so much mess for me, you know?” Vox pushed the knife back into the other Sinner. “But, hey, this isn’t about me. We’re doing this for you.”
The big Sinner screamed when Vox took his knife out again, a spray of arterial blood arching into the air.
“Why?” he managed through the wet rattle in his throat. Vox shrugged.
“Preying on people smaller than you isn’t very sportsmanlike.” He stabbed the other Sinner a few more times until he stopped moving. Husk could see only the very faint movement of his chest as he sucked in shallow breaths. “And I’ve always hated a mismatched fight. Where’s the thrill in that?”
The big Sinner stopped breathing, and Vox pressed his hand against the side of his thick neck. After a few seconds, he nodded and looked back up at Husk.
“See? Easy peasy.”
Husk stared, mouth hanging open, as Vox strolled back to him, blood dripping from his fingers. His screen was smeared with blood and Husk really couldn’t help the tiny groan that escaped when the television demon wiped the back of his arm across the red screen, revealing a vicious shark’s grin. The younger Sinner stopped directly in front of him.
“You’re fucking terrifying,” Husk said as he stared, wide-eyed, at Vox. Vox gave him a who me look before he shrugged. Oh, fuck, he was so fucking fucked.
“Okay, first – I want my souls,” Vox said, holding his hand out expectantly. Husk took his hand, still dumbstruck, and felt the tiniest weakness as the souls left his ownership and flowed into Vox’s. The television demon’s screen brightened slightly, illuminating the gore splashed across it. “Second – get your ass over there.” He pointed at the wall. “We’re gonna fuck right now.”
Shit, he should probably put up some sort of protest, just because, but Husk caught Vox’s bloody wrist and dragged him over to the wall. Before he could press the smaller Sinner’s back against the rough brick, Vox slipped free and shoved Husk face first into the wall. He sputtered, disoriented, and his breath caught in his throat as Vox’s warm body pressed up against his back.
“Who the fuck said you could top?” the television demon said quietly, hands wandering to Husk’s belt buckle. “I get to decide what we’re doing. Isn’t that the deal we made?”
Husk absolutely did not whine at the sudden lower pitch to Vox’s voice or at the way his hands made quick work of Husk’s belt and shoved his pants down to his knees. Fingers scrambling against the rough surface, Husk squeezed his eyes shut as Vox yanked down his underwear then kicked his ankles a little further apart. He struggled to keep his wings from unfurling and sending the television demon flying – he really needed Vox to stay exactly where he was.
“Oh, fuck,” he hissed as he heard the tell-tale sound of a cap clicking open and let his forehead thump against the wall. Could barely keep his shit together when he felt a cold finger slide down against his entrance, flinching against the wall harder than he meant to. Vox stilled behind him.
“You…” He suddenly sounded hesitant and wasn’t that unsettling after the absolute chaotic bloodbath that was this fucking day? “You’ve done this before, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Husk snapped. “It’s just been a fucking while, okay?”
“Ah.” Vox’s hand retreated and Husk almost whipped around to tackle him. “That’s all right. I’ve got another idea.”
Fuck’s sake. He didn’t need the little prick to be considerate. Husk could handle a hard fuck just the same as anyone else and he didn’t want – oh.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a little bit breathy from frustration. Sure, he’d call it frustration. That was fine.
Vox hummed and tapped the outside of Husk’s thigh. “Bring your legs back together?”
Husk complied, curious – and whoops, look where curiosity kept getting him. He blinked, startled, when he felt Vox’s hand slide around to wrap around his cock. He groaned softly and let his forehead rest against the wall again. Had he let Vox get him off like this yet? Probably not – he would’ve remembered the soft but skilled way the younger Sinner stroked along his length.
“Don’t move, all right?” Vox said quietly. Husk blinked but didn’t move as he felt what he knew was Vox’s cock slipping between his legs, but not inside. Oh, that was his plan? Husk brought his legs together just a bit more to create a tighter space for Vox to thrust into. He smirked a little when the television demon groaned against his back. “Oh, fuck you, Husk.”
“Isn’t that what you’re already doing?” he asked, giving Vox a taste of his own medicine.
Vox laughed breathlessly. “Uh, yeah, I suppose I am.”
Husk let himself relax into the steady pace that Vox was setting. It wasn’t the mind-blowing sex that he had been expecting, but it was nice. Vox knew how to use his hands, at least, that much was clear. And, if Husk missed the soft sounds that he was quickly learning exactly how to coax from Vox’s throat, that was all right, too. There was always next time. Besides, he imagined that the younger Sinner wouldn’t be any kind of a slouch if they had the chance to really do this properly.
After a few minutes, Vox shifted his weight behind Husk, hitting a slightly different angle and Husk blinked in surprise. Oh. It wasn’t as good as it would’ve been if Vox was inside, but that was certainly an exciting little revelation.
“Is that all right?” he asked, sounding a little unsure. Fuck’s sake, did this guy never top or was he just always so fucking considerate when he did? Husk nodded and let his hand fall over Vox’s, pressing him to pick up the pace.
“Go faster,” Husk instructed and felt Vox nod as he did just that. Husk hummed contentedly as a warm pressure began to build in his lower gut. Again, not the very best sex he’d ever had, but also not terrible in any way. He could do this again. But maybe with a lot less blood and gory violence beforehand.
As he started to feel himself creep closer to the edge, he leaned some more of his weight back, grinning slightly as he felt Vox shift quickly to accommodate him. It was a real shame that the younger demon had a fucking television for a head – he’d love to pull his face closer and kiss him through his orgasm. But, since that would probably result in a broken nose or something (and, honestly, Husk already had enough blood coating him without adding a fountain from his nose on top of it all), he refrained. Instead, he squeezed harder around his cock, trapping Vox’s fingers with his, and closed his eyes to focus on the goal posts.
Without warning, he suddenly felt something wet, and a little cold, press against his entrance before edging inside. Husk blinked his eyes open in surprise.
“What the–”
Before he could get the whole sentence out, a pulsing spark of electricity shot up through his body before focusing with wicked accuracy on his prostate. Husk jerked once, twice, and shouted against the wall as the force of his orgasm tore through him. Dimly, behind him, he could hear Vox chuckling a little meanly as he finished shortly after.
And, damn, Husk didn’t even get to watch his face.
Once he caught his breath, Husk realized he could feel that their bodies had shifted so Vox was now leaning heavily against him, pressing him into the wall. He moved his hand backwards and fumbled along until he caught hold of Vox’s hip.
“You gonna let me get off the wall anytime soon?” he asked. “My dick is going to get road rash.”
Vox laughed quietly and pulled away, letting Husk push himself off the wall and turn around to face the television demon. Disheveled and covered in someone else’s blood was a good look on him. He yanked his underwear and pants back up, buckling his belt quickly, before reaching out to pull Vox back in. The younger Sinner gave him a crooked smile and Husk had to capture his mouth in a rough kiss. Vox sagged against him and slid his arms around Husk’s waist.
Fuck, if he hadn’t just gotten off, Husk might have been ready for another round at the soft noise that Vox made against his lips before pulling back. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and Husk made a show of shrugging nonchalantly.
“It wasn’t the worst.”
Vox laughed and pushed away, tucking himself back into his trousers. “Says the guy who I just got off in a filthy back alley. ‘Wasn’t the worst.’” He rolled his eyes good humoredly. “You’re so full of shit, Husk.”
Husk finished adjusting his clothing before looking around. “We should get back. I need a shower now.” He gave Vox’s filthy appearance a once-over. “And you look appalling.”
Vox looked down at his messy suit. “Huh, would you look at that? I guess light gray is not a recommended color when committing wanton murder.”
“Oh, yeah? What would Emily Post recommend?”
“Red, I’m guessing.”
Husk followed behind Vox as he retrieved his bag of hands (and tried not to shudder at the thought that the last person he fucked was just casually carrying around a bag of fucking hands, cool as a psychotic little cucumber, fucking Hell). While he felt the regular level of annoyance surface as they finally approached the casino, Husk was also not in the least bit surprised to find tall, dark, and crimson waiting near the door. Alastor raised an eyebrow at Vox’s appearance.
“Tell me that none of that is yours,” he said, holding out a hand to stop Vox from touching him. The television demon pouted.
“No, of course not. Do you really think I’d come home covered in my own blood?” Vox tried to duck around Alastor’s outstretched hand and laughed when he was batted away once more. “Besides, you’d already know if any of it was mine.”
Husk’s lip curled, expecting some really fucking weird and dark explanation for that statement, but Alastor sighed.
“No, that’s true. Your signal was surprisingly quiet all morning.”
Cool. Cool, cool, cool. That was great. Good to know murderous rampages didn’t remotely raise Vox’s blood pressure. Or signal pressure. What-fucking-ever.
“We just bumped into each other,” Husk heard himself say, like a fucking moron, and Alastor just raised an eyebrow.
“All right.” The Radio Demon gave him a once over and shrugged. “It’s not as though I dictate how you live your life, Husker.”
Fucker.
“I finished my errands,” Vox piped up. “Want to go to lunch now?”
Alastor’s grin widened happily. “Oh, yes! I was hoping you’d suggest lunch.” He gestured towards the bag that was now somehow bleeding through the plastic lining. Husk winced as a blood droplet fell onto the sidewalk below them. “Unless you’ve already got lunch there?”
Vox snickered and nudged Husk pointedly. “Uh, no, not this. This, I need to get on ice.” He shifted the bag to his other hand and looked at his wristwatch. “But, I could totally take you out to Rosie’s for ladyfingers if you want. My treat.”
He shot Husk a quick, amused look and the Overlord rolled his eyes. Of course he’d suggest ladyfingers, the little prick. Alastor nodded and made a sweeping motion towards the other end of the street.
“You’ll need to wash up first, you know how Rosie hates blood on her floors.”
Husk turned to walk into his casino and drew in a quick breath when he felt Alastor’s hand on his shoulder. What the fuck? He shot a quick look at where Vox was strolling away before narrowing his eyes at the Radio Demon’s hand. Alastor drew his gaze towards Husk’s back with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I’m sure you two just bumped into each other this morning.” Husk felt his face heat up at being caught out in a lie. Alastor tapped his back and the Gambling Overlord abruptly realized that his mostly clean appearance was still mostly clean except for the Vox-shaped blood stains on the back of his clothes. “Over and over again, hm?”
Husk swatted his hand off, snarling for good measure. “Don’t fucking touch me, asshole.”
“If you say so,” Alastor sing-songed as he started to follow a jaunty Vox. “I’m sure you’ve had your quota of touch for today, Husker.”
“Get fucking bent!” he growled and stormed back into the casino.
Fuck. He needed a shower and his bed. And maybe like two solid bottles of whiskey in between. Fucking dumbass media demons just out here ruining people’s days. Fuck.
