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Husk tilted his head up and stared at the wall in front of him, letting out a slow breath. There were a few cracks in the plaster, right up near the crown molding, but like everything else in Hell, decay was everywhere. Even the richest bastards had a hard time keeping everything pristine and in a mint condition. He’d have to give one of his maintenance guys a call and see they could come up later in the day. Hopefully, it was a minor repair – he really had no interest in watching them tear out the wall and put a new one up because some acid rain had seeped in through the roof.
It was a new fucking roof.
“Oh, fuck…”
He glanced down at the demon curled on his elbows and knees beneath him, face buried in a pillow. Vox didn’t strictly need just his mouth to breathe, Husk had discovered, which made positions like this (where he could push the younger man face down against the bed) even more interesting. With a chuckle, he flexed his hand against Vox’s hip, tilting him back to the angle he wanted, and continued to fuck the obscenely lurid toy into him at a languid pace he knew was driving the television demon crazy.
“How are you doing down there?” he asked the younger man, watching as Vox’s hand tensed around the fistful of comforter he was using to anchor himself. A satisfied grin settled on his face, and he pressed in just a little harder, grinding the bright orange dildo against Vox’s prostate. Vox moaned, voice muffled in the pillow. “Anything I can get you? Another pillow or some water, maybe?”
“Shut up, Husk,” Vox grumbled quietly, though Husk could feel his muscles tighten in his back. If Husk hadn’t already gotten off this morning, it might have made his dick twitch. Still, it was nice just watching Vox squirm under his hand, knowing that he could speed this up at any time and finish the younger Sinner off quickly. “You could go a little faster, if you’re feeling like not being a complete dickhead.”
“Aw, rats – I am feeling like a complete dickhead.” Husk did tilt the toy just a little and set it on the lowest vibration setting possible. Vox’s hips kicked forward, a grunt barely audible through the pillow. “What seems to be the problem? You wanted me to go slow this time, didn’t you?”
“Not this slow, you sadistic piece of shit.” Vox drew in a shaky breath and Husk could see him trying to relax his body. Which didn’t work, obviously, with Husk pumping this monstrosity of a sex toy inside him, but hey, kudos for trying. “Fucking… colossal fucking… you’re a dick, Husk. A real… oh, fuck me… a butthead.”
Husk hummed contently. “You say the sweetest things.” Vox huffed. “I think your sweet talk is my favorite part about fucking you.”
“I’m going to electrocute you,” Vox tried this time, and Husk shifted his weight behind the younger Sinner to press more of his body against him. He tsked.
“We really have to work on those threats of yours.” Husk turned up the vibration setting and Vox whined loudly in his pillow. “You’ve gotta vary things up now and again. If you keep threatening to electrocute people, they’re going to think it’s all you’ve got.”
Vox might have tried to reply to that, but Husk deliberately sped up before draping himself over the top of the smaller demon. Pressed him down just enough to remind Vox who was in charge (in this very specific sexual session because fuck it… Husk had given up any delusions that he was genuinely in charge of this relationship, try though he might to scrape a modicum of control for himself now and again). He could feel Vox’s free hand move beneath him and knew he was stroking himself in time with the toy, his breath picking up rapidly.
“Oh, Husk… fuck! Fuck, right there, you son of a bitch. I swear… I’ll fucking tear your throat out with my bare teeth if you… oh, shit! Shit!”
“Better,” Husk encouraged. “More visceral. That’s the kind of thing people have a frame of reference for – something they can really picture.”
Vox sobbed pitifully. “I hate you.”
Well, Husk must’ve been doing a good job if that’s all Vox was able to say about his performance. He angled Vox’s hips upwards once more, making sure to grind against the spot inside the smaller demon that made him tense and swear uncontrollably. For a moment, he did consider stopping, just to be an asshole about it, but something about the desperation in Vox’s voice told him that there was a very real possibility that the younger Sinner might follow through with his threat – or at least something equally terrible (shit, what if he enacted an all-out sex embargo?). He couldn’t risk that.
“Are you close?” he asked, leaning over to whisper against the side of Vox’s head. He reached his hand down between Vox’s legs and knocked his hand away to take over stroking the younger man’s cock in time with his thrusts. Vox whimpered, all aggression dissolving under the onslaught.
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly, wrapping his fingers around Husk’s wrist. Not trying to slow him down or speed him up – just holding on for dear life. Afterlife. Whatever. “Husk? Baby, I need to… I need to come… oh, shit… come on…”
“What’s the magic word?” It was an uphill battle not to burst into laughter when Vox sent a sudden jolt of electricity through his fingers and up Husk’s arm. “Honey, no.”
“Please, motherfucker.”
Husk did laugh this time and pounded the toy into Vox as hard as he dared (he wasn’t going to fucking impale the little shit on a dildo, fuck), flicking the vibration setting up with each pass. Vox screamed the Overlord’s name into the pillow, body going completely rigid, and Husk’s fur fluffed up as Vox came. Hard. Hard enough that when he had ridden out the initial shock of it, he curled in on himself, shaking. Husk pressed a kiss to the back of the television demon’s neck and eased the toy out before turning it off and tossing it to the other side of the bed.
“There you go,” Husk soothed, only partly mocking. He stroked Vox’s side idly, not wanting to startle him by moving too much. “Good job, honey.”
Vox groaned softly and started to shift his weight. For a moment, Husk thought he was trying to slip away and sighed. He’d kind of hoped to cuddle after this round. So, when he moved back to let Vox free himself, he was just the tiniest bit surprised when Vox rolled onto his back and tugged Husk down on top of him.
“Fuck’s sake,” the smaller demon breathed, wrapping his arms around Husk’s neck and pressing his face into his shoulder. Husk immediately began to purr and nuzzled the side of Vox’s head affectionately, pleased when Vox spread his legs just enough for Husk to sink down comfortably against him. “Husk, that was fantastic.”
“Glad you approve.” He couldn’t help the smile on his face when Vox slung a leg up and over his hip while the fingers of one hand reached up to caress the fur behind Husk’s ear. They stayed like for a few minutes until Vox very subtly rolled his hips up and Husk pulled away, catching the younger Sinner’s head between his hands. “I know you don’t have another round in you right now, so don’t go writing checks that your ass can’t cash.”
“Fine,” Vox said agreeably enough which was always a red flag. Husk narrowed his eyes and the younger man grinned. “Fine. Let me up. I’m very sticky.”
Husk grunted and rolled off the smaller Sinner. Instead of getting up right away, Vox stretched his arms over his head with contented sigh. Husk rolled his neck, popping something that felt quite nice. It’d probably hurt worse later, but it felt good at that moment so why not? Probably an accurate description for his sex life at times.
“I’m getting in the shower,” he announced as he climbed out of the bed.
“Can I hang out with you today?” Vox asked quietly as Husk started to make his way to the bathroom. He turned to glance over his shoulder, surprised that Vox had asked and not just informed Husk that they would be spending the day together. He nodded – he would clear his calendar if Vox wanted his attention for the day.
“Yeah, sure. I can make a few calls and free things up.” Vox sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, head cocked as he studied Husk. “Why? Alastor leave you in the lurch or something?”
“No.” They stared at one another and Husk raised an eyebrow, earning a sheepish little shrug from the younger demon. “I mean, yes, he did, but that’s not why I wanted to spend the day with you. I could just hang out with Niffty or something.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Really, truly. Good fucking luck with that. “Where’d he go anyways?”
“How should I know?” Vox asked, the faintest hint of bitterness in his voice and Husk’s ears perked forward. “He’s always going off on these business trips and saying that he has to go by himself. I’m not allowed to go, like I’m some kind of liability or something.”
Well, now Husk was all ears. He still needed to get in the shower (he could feel the various fluids growing tacky on his fur), but it could wait a minute.
“Shit, I don’t know how he can stand to leave you behind. I’d take you with me to the seediest motel or wherever the fuck he stays when he’s gone,” Husk said in the smarmiest tone he could muster in the moment and Vox laughed, his expression brightening. “Actually… we could get a seedy motel room today, if you want…”
The younger Sinner crossed one leg over the other. “Oo, that sounds trashy as fuck, Husk.”
“Yeah?” Trashy was good. Husk could get on board with trashy. Mentally, he began making a list of exactly what he’d need to shove into a suitcase to ensure a positively filthy day. Plenty of lube and toys (naturally) and maybe even some costumes, in case Vox felt like a little role-play (fuck, if they were going to make a day of it, he was going to convince Vox to top for a while, too… for a little change of pace). Oh, and food and booze… he supposed they could try their luck with room service, but the type of places he was already planning for weren’t exactly known for their culinary fare. More just the good hourly deals one could get and–
Oops, Vox was staring at him again.
“I’m down for it if you are,” Husk said in a neutral voice and Vox shrugged, hopping off the bed.
“Maybe after a shower and lunch?” he suggested, slipping past Husk to dart into the bathroom ahead of the Gambling Overlord. Husk only just managed to catch the door before Vox closed it.
“What, you were planning to use up all the hot water?” he demanded, elbowing his way past Vox to turn on the shower. He turned and caught his lover by the waist, pulling him under the spray while Vox laughed. “Besides, what the fuck makes you think you’re showering alone?”
By the time they were clean and dressed, it was nearly lunchtime, and Husk had worked up an appetite. He caught Vox’s elbow as they started to leave the penthouse and took a moment to straighten out his tie, not trying to read anything into the way Vox stared up at him.
“Thanks,” he said quietly, raising his hands to rest his fingers over the top of Husk’s.
Husk’s brow furrowed in confusion and pressed a quick kiss to Vox’s lips. “Yeah, of course. Come on. I’m starved. Who knew fucking you was such hungry work?”
Vox didn’t protest or gripe or complain when they walked down the street (like normal fucking people) towards the café that had the pastrami on rye that Husk liked. He even slipped his hand into Husk’s, sticking a little closer than he usually did, and didn’t that make Husk’s brain start to jump through hoops to try to figure out what the fuck was going on. Realistically, he figured Vox was just feeling a little lonely without Alastor around (and Husk was going to have to figure out a way to ask how long Vox had been on his own this time so that he could appropriately guilt-trip the Radio Demon about it later).
Once they had food in front of them, Vox perked up and began chattering away like usual. Husk really did try to follow along initially, but once the younger Sinner started using phrases like “algorithm” and “conditional statements,” Husk mostly just nodded along. Ate his lunch while Vox ignored his own, gesturing widely, getting himself worked up all on his own. Husk smiled – Vox was very pretty when he was passionately trying to teach Husk things Husk had no interest in learning.
They should try a little teacher/student roleplaying this afternoon.
CRASH
The glass window blew out halfway through Vox’s sentence and Husk jerked back on instinct, raising a wing to shield them from the worst of it. He could hear guns firing outside the café and cursed – stupid fucking gangsters always trying to make a little headway into each other’s territory, mindless of the fact that the Overlord presiding over the district always had the final say.
And this was his fucking district.
Husk got to his feet, shaking his wing free of glass before casting an irritated glance at Vox. They’d have to cut this lunch date short, even though Husk had fucking promised to spend the entire day with Vox. Had promised to take him to the seediest fucking motel he could find and fuck until neither of them could stand anymore. Had promised to–
“Husk?”
Vox blinked up at him with wide eyes and Husk froze, his gaze drifting down to where the television demon’s hand was pressed to the front of his chest. Slowly, blood began to creep around the edges of his fingers, stretching out through the thin fibers of his shirt. Husk sucked in a sharp breath.
“Fuck.”
Vox raised his other hand to try to grasp the edge of the table, trying to balance himself, but his fingers fumbled against the wooden surface, and he tilted sharply to the side. In slow motion, Husk watched him collapse to the floor and was only dimly aware of the presence of more bullets flying through the air as the other patrons of the café began to scream and panic.
CRACK
Vox’s head knocked against the floor and Husk dropped to his knees to avoid being hit by any of the stray bullets.
“Shit,” Husk hissed and scrambled across the broken glass on the café floor, barely noticing the stinging cuts sliced into his palms and knees. The only thought in his head was getting to Vox. The dark red blood blossoming over his crisp white shirt was spreading with lethal speed. “Shit.”
Not thinking about whether it would hurt the younger Sinner, Husk dragged Vox into his arms, cradling him against his chest while Vox fumbled his hand weakly over his own chest (shit, as if that would fucking help). It took a bit of maneuvering to get Vox settled in his lap and Husk pressed his hand against the side of the other man’s boxy head, guiding his gaze back to Husk’s face.
“Okay, there you go,” he reassured Vox quietly while the small demon drew in a shaking breath. Already, there was a tell-tale rattle undercutting the sound. “It’s alright. I’ve got you, honey.”
“What…?” Vox shuddered. After a few seconds, he raised his bloodied hand to where he could see it and blinked in astonishment. “What’s… Husk, what…?”
“It probably hurts to talk,” he said gently, and Vox’s chin jerked in what Husk had to assume was a nod. Heedless of the screaming patrons in the café and the now dripping bloodstain on his lover’s shirt, Husk offered the younger Sinner a soft smile and stroked his head. Vox’s mouth opened silently, his eyes darting around in clear panic. “You don’t have to talk, okay? Just try to listen to me, Vox. I know you’re scared, honey, I know. But can you try and listen to me, just for a minute?”
Vox’s eyes settled back on him and Husk took the younger Sinner’s hand in his, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Fuck, he knew exactly how terrifying this must be – Husk’s first death had been his introduction in the never-ending trauma that Hell inflicted on the damned. Death never got better. People just got used to it.
“You’re going to feel very cold soon, if you aren’t already,” he said, keeping his voice as calm and even as possible. Vox shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes. “Then it’s going to get very, very dark. You’re not going to know where you are or what’s going on, but that’s all right. Because it’s not going to last forever.” Vox’s breath hitched wetly, and Husk could feel his grip loosening. “And when you wake up, I’ll be there.”
“Help,” Vox managed to gasp out. “Please…?”
“I know, honey.” Husk swallowed roughly. “I know.”
“I don’t… please, Husk…” the smaller Sinner’s breath caught in his throat again, blood starting to drip from his mouth, and Husk glanced down. At least one bullet in the lungs, if not more. He was surprised Vox could even manage the few words he was forcing out. “Please don’t… don’t make me…”
“I can’t stop it, sweetheart.” Vox’s eyelids fluttered, his gaze wandering away from Husk again. Husk bent down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I know it’s scary. I know, but it’s easier if you can relax, honey. It’ll be quick, I promise. And I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“No,” Vox choked out, his eyes falling shut. “No, please…”
Husk watched the light fade from Vox’s screen until he was staring at his own reflection in the dark glass. By the time his body went limp, completely lifeless in Husk’s arms, most of the noise had stopped and the café was eerily silent.
Husk smoothed his hand down the side of Vox’s cooling head, finding himself feeling emotions that he had thought he locked away decades prior. How very deeply and painfully disgusted he was by the sheer unfairness of it all. Vox was right, of course, when he had complained how unfair Hell was, but he was still so new that he had no real concept of just how fucked up everything was down here. And he was spoiled – admittedly, Husk carried a fair share of the blame for that, but Vox had been fucking coddled in so many ways since his arrival that of course he begged for help when dying his first Hellish death.
But, fuck, if someone like Vox didn’t deserve to be treated gently and with more care than Husk had thought possible of himself, he wasn’t entirely sure who did. He didn’t deny that the television demon could be an evil little monster at times (who matched Alastor freak for freak – unsettling bastards), but there was something soft, something so terribly vulnerable about the younger Sinner that made Husk wonder. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d thought that there were some folks in Hell who maybe wouldn’t have ended up down here if things topside had been different for them, and he doubted it would be the last.
He took some time to straighten out Vox’s shirt (there was no salvaging it, but Husk knew he’d be upset to look so disheveled), wishing he could somehow fix this. Roll back time just far enough to move the younger man out of the way of the bullet so that his first Hellish death didn’t have to be this. Didn’t have to be a violent, public affair. For someone who was so preoccupied with his appearance and the way he was perceived, Vox would be distraught to know so many strangers were watching his body cooling in Husk’s arms, blood pooling around them.
“Hey, anyone know where we can find the local Overlord? This was kind of an accident, and we don’t want any trouble,” a brash voice said. Husk could hear two sets of footsteps making their way into the café. “We can pay for the damages here, you know?”
Husk didn’t look up from Vox’s blank screen, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe blood from the younger Sinner’s face. He needed to clean Vox up before he regenerated, just knowing the extra trauma it would heap onto the growing pile to wake up caked in his own dried blood and gore.
“Hello? Does anyone in here talk?”
Husk looked up, tail switching behind him at the presumption of this bastard to interrupt his private vigil. The two Sinners who were standing in the café (his café, in his fucking territory) were clad in crisp pinstriped suits – so fucking obviously gangsters that Husk might’ve been inclined to laugh derisively if he wasn’t so close to killing. The taller of the two, a spider demon with pink and white fur, looked around the café closely before settling his gaze on Husk. He nudged his companion, a bizarrely translucent Sinner who was almost jellylike in appearance, with a cautious expression.
“I think we’ve found the guy.”
“You sure fucking have,” Husk growled quietly. He could feel his magic already drawing in around him and the spider demon glanced between the two. “Whose bullets were they?”
Jell-O Man sighed. “Look, man, I know we’re not supposed to fire out in the open in this district, but the other guys started it.”
“So.” Husk smoothed his hand over Vox’s still chest to ground himself. “Yours.”
“Yeah, but again… accident, right?” He looked over at the spider demon. “Come on, Angel Dust. Back me up here.”
“I told you not to shoot,” the spider demon said quietly (Angel Dust, his fucking name was fucking Angel – what a fucking joke). “You don’t listen.”
“Seriously? Come on, what’s the fucking problem?” Flan-face held up his hands in exasperation before gesturing down towards Husk and Vox. “The TV head? Why the fuck are you so bent out of shape? They’re regular bullets – he’s going to pop right back up in a few minutes anyways.”
“He hasn’t fucking died down here yet,” Husk said patiently. Angel Dust’s eyes widened a little and Husk took a moment to hold his gaze, sneering. “He’s still freshly fallen.”
“That’s the Radio Demon’s friend, isn’t it?”
Husk almost saw red at that – Vox’s death didn’t matter only because he was Alastor’s lover. He fucking mattered, regardless of Alastor’s fucking relationship with him. The Gambling Overlord gently set Vox down on the ground and got to his feet, letting his magic crackle openly around his hands.
“You know who he is,” he said quietly. Dangerously. “Then you must know who the fuck I am.”
As the pink and white spider demon put two and two together, glancing at his partner with growing concern, a sharp squeal of feedback tore through the air and Husk’s head snapped to the side, knowing exactly what he was going to see.
[VOX.]
Alastor did not disappoint, crawling out from the shadows like a cryptid nightmare, limbs unnaturally long and bent at equally unnatural angles. The spider demon instantly put down his guns and backed away, hands up in the air. His partner was not quite so smart and just blinked dumbly as the Radio Demon lurched into the café.
Husk didn’t move when Alastor reached down to touch one freakishly long claw to Vox’s chest, smile wrenching too far on his face. For a moment, he could feel the shock and grief radiating from Alastor. But only for a moment. Then, the Radio Demon’s gaze jerked up from Vox’s still body to Husk’s face. Husk wished he could say he didn’t wince when Alastor’s head tilted so violently to the side that he could hear the vertebrae snap. A thin line of blood began to make its way down his chin.
[WHO?]
Shit. Husk hated it when he went full Radio Demon and did the fucking broadcasting voice in that soul-chilling frequency. Still, it was nice that Alastor didn’t immediately accuse Husk of having something to do with Vox’s death – it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility with this bastard. His eyes slid over to meet Angel Dust’s and, as if their minds synced up in the same moment, both Husk and the spider demon pointed their fingers at the gelatinous Sinner whose eyes instantly grew wide as saucers.
“It was an accident,” he managed to stammer out before Alastor’s talons speared him through and lifted him into the air. Fucking Eldritch Horror let out a staticky squeal of displeasure and raised the doomed demon close to his head.
[LOOKS LIKE I HAVE A SHOW TO BROADCAST TONIGHT, AFTER ALL.]
With a cackle of horrifying laughter, the Radio Demon dissolved back into the shadows, taking Gumby along with him. Once the screams faded, Husk narrowed his eyes at the spider demon. Angel Dust smartly kept his hands up where Husk could see him.
“I guess he’s not coming back.” Husk shook his head. “Just as well – the guy is completely useless.”
Husk turned back to Vox and stared down in dismay. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to carry him back to the penthouse without making a spectacle of themselves. Not that he couldn’t – but Vox wasn’t quite small enough for Husk to just bundle into a coat and carry around without catching anyone’s attention, like Alastor could. But that couldn’t be helped, he supposed – he wasn’t going to stay here and let Vox regenerate in a pool of blood and shattered glass.
“I could help you with him,” Angel Dust said quietly. Husk’s hackles rose in warning, and he let out a low hiss. “I remember my first death down here. It was rough. I wish… well, I wish I had someone to look after me while I regenerated.”
Fuck Alastor for just running off and making Husk even consider this. He scowled then thrust his hand out to Angel Dust. “You carry him back to my penthouse and then you get the fuck out. I owe you nothing.”
Angel Dust clasped his hand. “Sure, sure.” The deal sealed without fanfare and Angel Dust immediately bent down to scoop Vox in his arms, not seeming to notice the blood that smeared over the front of his own suit. Angel Dust shifted his weight, surprise on his face. “He’s light.”
“Don’t fucking talk.” Husk could feel a headache beginning to pound behind his eyes. “Just… just get him home.”
Husk walked almost blindly back to the penthouse and ushered Angel Dust inside. He debated for a minute before gesturing for Angel Dust to follow him into the master bathroom. First things first – he needed to cut Vox’s clothes off him (not even Niffty could salvage this mess). Then he’d have to clean him up and treat any of his wounds – just because it was Hell didn’t mean that Sinners (especially young and weak ones) couldn’t succumb to death immediately after regenerating, this time from a truly gruesome infection. He wasn’t a doctor or anything like that, but he could clean out bullet wounds as well as the next guy and he could slap some antibiotics on before dressing everything.
“I’m a dab hand with a needle and thread,” Angel Dust said quietly as he helped Husk prop the small Sinner on the closed toilet to start working. Husk sighed. “Then I’ll go. Pinky promise.”
And because Husk didn’t have the stomach to do it all himself without having a fucking meltdown, he let Angel Dust help. Apparently being a gangster in Hell gave a man very specific skills – namely battlefield-fast wound treatment. Before Husk could fully appreciate what was happening, he was following Angel Dust back into the living room to prop a freshly cleaned, bandaged, and clothed television demon on the couch. He covered Vox with the throw draped over the back of the couch and turned to Husk.
“Hey, if you ever want to –”
“No.”
Angel Dust smiled and shrugged. “Worth a try. See you around, Whiskers.”
Husk didn’t stop staring down at Vox’s still body, even as Angel Dust left the penthouse, until he heard a familiar crackling in the air. His wings unfurled instinctively, but he didn’t turn as the shadows swept behind him.
“Is he…?”
Husk’s ear twitched. “He’s right there. You can see for yourself.” Alastor moved past him, hesitant in his movements in a way that Husk had never seen from him and stooped down to brush his fingertips against the top of Vox’s head.
“He’s cold,” Alastor said in a hushed, horrified voice. Husk crossed his arms over his chest, trying very hard not to let it affect him when Alastor climbed onto the couch beside Vox’s still body, touching the younger Sinner’s head and face gingerly. Almost as if he was afraid to break him. “Husk, he’s cold.”
“He’s dead,” Husk said in a carefully neutral tone. Alastor pressed his lips to Vox’s head, static prickling in the air around them. “It wasn’t angelic – he should finish regenerating soon.”
“I wasn’t there.” Husk looked away, lips pressing together firmly. Shit, if Husk wasn’t mistaken (and he had to be fucking mistaken, he had to be), he had seen the sleek gloss of unshed tears in the Radio Demon’s eyes. No, he did not feel the sharp sting of tears in his own eyes, thank you very much – his eyes were as dry as a desert. After a drought. In July. And even if he did, it wasn’t sympathy that was making him uncomfortable – he was already fucked-up after having to watch Vox die in his arms. These were (not) tears at the end of a long fucking day and had nothing to do with Alastor’s fucking distress. “I wasn’t even there. I had to… Husk, was he afraid?”
“Yeah.” Husk brushed his eyes impatiently before clearing his throat. He glanced back in time to see Alastor pull Vox, body limp and unresponsive, into his lap before rocking the small demon’s body back and forth. Something a little cruel bloomed in his chest at the image of Alastor trying to comfort Vox’s still dead body. “He didn’t ask for you.”
“No?” Alastor asked, clutching Vox’s body closer. “He didn’t?”
Fuck, he couldn’t keep up the cold bastard façade for long – at all. Not when he knew exactly what the Radio Demon was feeling, cradling his dead lover in his arms like that. Fucking empathy. Unholy shit, it fucking sucked. “He probably would’ve, if it hadn’t happened so fast.”
Alastor nodded, something like relief crossing his face. “What did he say?”
“He wanted me to make it stop.” Husk sat down heavily on the coffee table across from the media demons. His wings drooped behind him, and he leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand. Shit, he wasn’t sure why Alastor was looking at him like he wanted comfort. It wasn’t like they did that kind of thing with one another but… “You didn’t know he was going to die today. He could’ve just as easily choked on a fucking pretzel – it wasn’t like there was anything you could’ve done.”
“I could’ve been there.”
“I was there,” Husk said, still not sure why he was bothering to console the Radio Demon. “He wasn’t alone.”
Alastor nodded, drawing his legs up onto the couch and pinning Vox close to his body. “I… I can’t remember. Does it always take this long?”
Husk shrugged. “Sometimes. What, you’re so above the little people that you can’t remember how long it takes the new ones to regenerate?”
“Something like that,” Alastor huffed and returned his full attention to Vox. Husk sighed heavily. Fuck, he was exhausted. After a while, he noticed the other Overlord shifting uneasily. “He’ll be hungry when he wakes up. I should make something light for him, just in case.”
Normally, Husk would’ve raked Alastor over the coals for trying to abandon Vox when he needed him the most, but he had already clocked Alastor’s pathological need to be productive when he was overstressed, and he had precisely zero interest in arguing about it anyways. Who knew? Maybe Vox would be hungry – Husk didn’t think he’d eaten a thing at lunch anyways.
“Soup?” Husk suggested with a shrug, sure that his face was as dull and void of expression as his voice. Alastor nodded and slipped away from Vox.
“I’ll just… let me know if he wakes up before I’m done?”
“Yeah.”
Husk waited until Alastor had left to move to the couch, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before scooting back to lean against Vox’s hip. Fuck, he hated this. Hated fucking waiting for Vox to wake up. He smoothed his hand over the soft button down he had put the younger Sinner in, taking a moment to run his fingers over the edge of Vox’s head. And raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Warmth.
Vox’s screen slowly grew brighter until Husk could see his face clearly, eyes still shut. With a sudden shudder, Vox gasped sharply, and those wide eyes flew open, wildly darting around the room in a panic.
“Husk?” Vox whimpered, voice weak. “Help.”
“Relax, honey,” Husk said softly, stroking the side of his face reassuringly. Vox’s eyes fixed on him, round and taking up more of his screen than should probably be possible. “You’re safe. I’m right here.”
“No, I’m not...” He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when the younger Sinner tried to push himself upright, only to fall back helplessly. “Where…?”
“I brought you back to my place,” Husk soothed. Vox reached up and barely managed to touch his fingertips to Husk’s hand before his arm sagged against his chest. Humming quietly, Husk clasped their fingers together and tapped a faint rhythm against Vox’s collarbone. Far enough away from any bullet wounds not to hurt and just firm enough to help ground the younger man. Vox wheezed uncomfortably before closing his eyes. “Don’t try to move much yet. You’re still hurt, and you can make it worse if you’re not careful.”
“Did I… die? Again?” Vox coughed roughly. Husk noticed the tiny droplets of blood on his lips and reached into his jacket for a handkerchief. He’d need to bring some tissues in here so that Vox could keep himself clean while his lungs continued to heal. Reaching over, he dabbed the cloth against Vox’s screen. “Husk?”
“Yeah, honey. You did.” Vox’s eyes opened, and Husk could tell he was struggling to hold his focus. “I’m so sorry.”
Any composure that Vox had crumbled at that, the tears that had been gathering in his eyes spilling down his screen as he drew in a sharp, painful gasp. Ah, fuck. At least they’d thought to prop him up instead of laying him flat. He scooted forward and wrapped an arm around Vox, pulling him up just enough to slump against Husk’s chest. Cradling him as gently as possible to not reopen any of the dressed wounds, Husk set his other hand on the back of Vox’s head.
Vox clung to him weakly and started to sob against Husk’s jacket. Probably should’ve taken that off, he thought absurdly as Vox's tears began to stain the silk. It probably didn’t matter, though – there was too much of Vox’s blood set deep in the fibers of the fabric to save it anyways. Dimly, he noticed Alastor move the pillows from behind Vox and slide into the small space without complaint (for fucking once, the bastard didn’t have some fucking quip to offer).
Husk didn’t say anything when he felt Alastor’s arm slide around Vox’s waist, slipping between Husk and the television demon. Vox barely acknowledged Alastor’s presence at first, dragging his legs up towards his body as best he could. Making himself smaller as his cries of anguish grew louder and more ragged. In between Vox’s sobs and the grating feedback echoing around the room, Husk could just make out Alastor’s voice murmuring soothing words. Eventually, Vox fell limp against Husk, his hands clutching the front of Husk’s jacket.
“It was so dark,” Vox whispered, voice barely audible against Husk’s chest. Husk exchanged a quick look with Alastor. “Why…?”
“I don’t know,” Husk admitted softly. Soft music clicked on, and Husk found himself appreciative for Alastor’s little party trick. He pressed a kiss to the top of the younger Sinner’s head and sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. “I just don’t know, honey.”
Fuck.
Trust the universe (or Hell, whichever, they seemed to be one and the same anyways) to balance out such a lovely start to the day.