Work Text:
Vox groaned slumping back into his chair, he could practically cry in relief as his legs finally had a break. So many meetings today. So much work. That’s all he’s done today. So many demons. Why are demons so difficult? Fuck, he threw his head back. Stupid turf wars, why had he thought it was a good idea to fight both Val and Vel’s turf wars for them? Right! Because they begged and were up his ass! Fucking hell, those shitheads did a number on him.
He pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the side before undoing his tie, allowing it to rest messily over his shoulders. His side hurt like a bitch! Those fuckers managed to get him distracted and before he knew it he had a blade shoved inside of him. But he managed to scare off the two, fucking pussies.
His gaze flickered to the radio that rested comfortably on his desk, a soft smile spreading across his face as he reached for ward to gently caress its sides. I wonder what Alastor’s doing now. Clearly no broadcast today, a shame, Vox could do with hearing some pathetic demon scream, but alas, if Alastor wasn’t in the mood to host a broadcast so be it.
“Hmm.” He missed Alastor. Would Alastor visit him today? Hopefully. Either that or Vox might cause a ‘fight’. Oh, how he loved their fights. They were always so intimate in a way. Body against body. Breathing mingling together. He missed Alastor a lot. His voice. His smile. Everything. The fucker hadn’t even paid attention to him all day! Didn’t even look into one camera! No snarky responses! No anything! He hated it! Did he do something to piss Alastor off? No idea. But if the fucker decided not to visit today, Vox was taking his ass down to that weird redemption hotel and finding Alastor.
Vox sighed, rubbing his screen. He spun in his chair, staring into the giant tank. His expression softened as he stared at the sharks swimming in there, good, they were enjoying themselves. He stood up, stretching before rolling up his sleeves, exposing his forearms to the cool air of his office. His office was always cold, it was to make sure he didn’t overheat easily. He may be a tad bit easily riled up.
He walked over to the shelf of different alcoholic bottles, grabbing one, before sitting back down. He sighed as he popped open the lid, cringing at the amber liquid while pouring himself a glass. He stared at the glass for a minute before picking it up and bringing it up to his mouth, flinching as the bitter rye assaulted his tastebuds. He hated it. But it made him feel close to Alastor.
Alastor always smelt like cigarettes and rye in the best way possible, as much as he tried to cover the smell, Vox could always sense a hint of it, and it was amazing. He loved it. But on Alastor, not on him. He took another languid mouthful of rye, savouring it on his tongue before swallowing.
He sunk into his chair, he looked pathetic. Like a drunkard. He probably looked like one of the bitches from Val’s studio, but obviously better. The alcohol definitely helped numb the pain in his side to an extent, it was there but at least it wasn’t overtaking any sense he had. His eyes fluttered shut, half empty glass in hand as he bounced his leg.
“Don’t you look rather pathetic,” a voice layered with radio came from behind him. Vox immediately perked up, spinning in his chair around, dropping the glass, though a long, shadowy tentacle caught the glass before it could spill everywhere.
“Alastor!”
The deer demon stood there, sharp smile spread across his face as usual, arms crossed behind his back. “Yes, yes, I am aware that’s my name,” he hummed. “Now, do tell what our you in such a pitiful state aside myself?” He strode over, each step filled with confidence as he towered over the seat demon.
“Just work stuff,” Vox answered, not elaborating.
Alastor tsked, “Just work? Now, now Vincent, lying is not a good look on you, you reek of blood as well,” his hands reached forwards, fingers tracing down Vox’s side, against the bandage wound, earning a low shiver. “What stuff does this work entail?”
“Dealt with Val and Vel’s turf wars for them today,” Vox mumbled, screen flushing cyan under the touch. Stupid Alastor and his weird sense of smell. Cannibalistic fucker too, knowing Alastor, Vox would probably end up having his blood drained if Alastor smelt more blood.
“Why didn’t they deal with it themselves? Surely they are more than capable with fighting their own fights,” the deer demon said.
“They begged me too, Val ahead some shitty shoot, Vel was fixing up her models or something, don’t know, don’t fucking care,” Vox answered, waving his hand in dismissal, sinking further into his chair as Alastor caressed the clothed wound.
“Hmm,” was all Alastor said.
Vox huffed at the bland answer, “what the fuck have you been doing today? You haven’t looked at me all day, haven’t talked to me, do why are you here now?”
“I’m a very busy man,” the deer demon replied with a sharp smile. “But since you insist on knowing, I was forced to do some errands for Charlie.”
He stared at Alastor before bursting out into laughter, “The princess forced you to be her errand boy!? Oh that’s fucking rich! Oh god! Who would’ve guessed! Alastor! The great radio demon! The sinner that terrorised all of Hell is an errand boy!” Laughing too much hurt his wound, but he couldn’t care less, he needed a good laugh.
Alastor glared, static filling the room while the temperature dropped. “Watch it.”
“Or what? You gonna go cry to the princess? Im sure she’ll love to have you asking for help!” Vox cackled. The deer demon tutted before pinning Vox to the chair, arms on either side of the screen which was now illuminated with bright cyan. “Uh…-?”
“If I didn’t know better I would assume you were craving my attention today,” Alastor began words sharp as he pressed his hand against the wound.
“Oh fuck you!”
Alastor scoffed, “That’s not nice dear.” He leaned closer, lips ghosting against Vox’s neck. “I am hungry, and you look wonderfully delectable.”
“Alastor-“
“I am aware that’s my name,” the deer demon responded, he didn’t give Vox the chance to talk as the two fell through a portal in the ground, landing on soft plush sheets. He took pride in the yelp that Vox had let out as he moved to sit up but was forced back down by Alastor. “You’ve done a lot today, Vox. Allow me to reward you, since you’ve so desperately craved my attention,” Alastor drawled, eyes half-lidded as he reached to Vox’ belt, unbuckling it with ease before pulling his pants down.
Vox slowly relaxed under the touch, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, shivering at every little touch. He gasped as he felt a finger prod at him through his briefs. He didn’t necessarily need to wear briefs, but he found them more comfortable and it made him feel more masculine in a sense.
Alastor hummed softly, hands sliding up to slowly and sensually remove Vox’s clothing that covered his torso. It had taken him a while to adjust to removing clothes from Vox when he had a television head, but he’s adjusted to it. His pupils dilated as he caught sight of the bandaged wound. “Say, did you at least gain the souls of them?”
Vox groaned and shook his head, “Fuckers ran off.”
The deer demon let out an irritated sigh, “How pleasant.” His claws hooked on the edge of Vox’s briefs, pulling them down. He tried to ignore the way his canines sharpened at the sight, the way salvia pooled in his mouth. His tongue licked over his teeth as he slid down to rest on his knees on the floor in front of the bed, his hands pulled Vox closer by his thighs.
Long, shadowy tentacles wrapped around Vox’s legs, restraining him. Tracing his gills with care. Vox shivered.
“I think you owe me an apology,” Alastor hummed, his finger prodding at the soft flesh.
Vox huffed, “Apology for what? You’ve been ignoring me all day.”
“Yes, but then you decided to insult me, wasn’t I an errand boy? Perhaps I should head back to the hotel right now, I’m sure Charlie would have a task for me to do,” Alastor began, his smile sharp. He watched as Vox’s expression twisted into disappointment.
“You’re not leaving Al,” Vox said firmly.
“Then apologise,” Alastor said. “And then we can continue.
“You prick.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Vox stayed silent for a minute, Alastor slowly pulled away. No apology. No sex. “Hey no-!” Vox protested as Alastor moved away.
“You know what you have to do,” Alastor sang, ears twitching. “I didn’t catch that,” he added after he heard a small mumble from Vox.
“I’m sorry,” Vox repeated, slightly louder but not good enough.
“Do repeat it, my ears are so terrible,” Alastor feigned sadness, his ears were not bad. At all. They were very good in fact. But he enjoyed playing with Vox.
Vox glared at him before groaning, “I’m sorry! Happy!?” He was very pent up.
“Though you could’ve done better, I’ll accept it due to your injury,” Alastor answered, fingers tracing the bandages, before he moved closer, face between Vox’s legs as he stared hungrily.
“You’re so annoying,” Vox grumbled.
“Would you like me to leave?” Alastor teased.
“No, shut up, eat me,” He answered quickly, hands finding their way into Alastor’s hair, encouraging him to get a move on.
The deer demon chuckled, “As you wish.” At first he planted a soft, tender kiss against the soft flesh, feeling the puffiness and arousal against his lips were perfect, mixed with the sharp gasp from Vox and the hands in his hair tightening their grip. And then he allowed his tongue to trace a line down the soft flesh, not yet parting the puffy lips.
Vox tugged on Alastor’s hair, trying to keep his hips still. “Fuck,” he moaned softly as he felt just the tip of Alastor’s tongue delve between his folds that were dripping from his arousal. Alastor worked his tongue slowly, just barely dipping past the entrance. Vox tasted amazing. Vox was amazing. “Alastor, stop teasing,” he gasped.
Alastor hummed, sending vibrations jolting through Vox, earning a low moan. “Alastor…” he shivered, feeling tentacles dip past the slits of his gills, rubbing against them. He began to writhe the stimulation wonderful bliss.
The deer demon moved his tongue faster, allowing a tentacle to dip past his own slacks, freeing his hardening cock from the confines. The tentacle worked slowly around his shaft, causing his to sharply inhale against Vox, his tongue continuing to move at a steady pace, flicking against the hardened and twitching nub.
“Hah shit!” Vox gasped, head thrown back as his legs trembled beside either side of Alastor’s head. Alastor shivered, the tentacle pumping faster around his cock as he moved his tongue languidly. Savouring the taste on this tongue. Vox always had quite an unforgettable taste.
One of Alastor’s hands reached up, using his claws to carefully cut at the bandages, allowing them to fall from Vox’s body. His pupils dilated at the scent of blood, stomach aching with hunger, only furthering his continuation of hungrily eating Vox out. His lower abdomen coil around itself like the coil of a machine, tight and begging to be unwound. He could only think Vox was the same but the way he gasped and trembled.
His tongue continued to move, silver-tongued and sharp like a snake. Vox’s moans had long dissolved into mixed static, though he could still faintly make out his own name. How adorable. His hips bucked into his the tentacle, antlers growing as Vox’s tightened his grip in his hair, it felt wonderful. The sting. The pain. The claws digging into his scalp.
His cock throbbed, hard and achy, dripping pre-cum. Vox had long ruined the sheets, they were wet to touch and the scent was heavenly. Then there was a loud staticky moan as Vox’s legs suddenly clamped around his head, tight and unyielding as he came. Alastor moaned as he felt the new wetness against his face, alongside the stickiness of his own release between his legs which had been prompted by the crushing grip of legs around his head.
He lapped at the wetness, savouring the liquid on his tongue. Vox’s legs trembled around his head as they rode out their orgasms. Eventually, Vox slumped back, panting and gasping as the lights in the room continued to flicker while he came down from his high.
“Holy shit, Al,” Vox gasped, eyes wide, chest heaving. “That was amazing, you outdid yourself today, wow…”
There was silence, prompting Vox to furrow his eyes in confusion as he sat up against his forearms. “Al? What’s wrong-?” Oh, right. “Fuck, you ok?” Vox asked, immediately releasing Alastor from between his legs.
Alastor let out a dazed, satisfied hum. “Dandy.”
“Did I crush your head or something?” Vox panted as he sat up fully, trying to check Alastor’s head.
“I’m fine,” Alastor soothed, licking his lips. “Better than ever in fact, that was strangely enjoyable.”
Vox blinked at him, “Of course you like it.” He rolled his eyes, slumping back down. “Get up.” Alsstor stood up from the ground, resting beside Vox on the bed.
“I sincerely apologise for the mess,” Alastor hummed, pulling out a cigar, holding it out for Vox to light, which he did, with a heart-shaped electrical volt.
“I don’t care about the mess,” Vox sighed.
“Do you want me to redo your bandages?” Alsstor asked.
Vox pondered the question for a minute before smiling sharply, “Would be a shame if you didn’t get one tiny taste.”
Alastor smiled back in response, taking a drag of his cigar before leaning over, dragging his tongue over the wound. Vox shivered, “God…”
“You taste wonderful, though I am quite exhausted, as you are, perhaps some other time you’ll indulge me?” Alastor chuckled.
“Yeah,” Vox mumbled tiredly. “We can clean up later.”
“Mhm,” Alastor agreed, before they fell into a comfortable silence. A few minutes later Alastor looked down at Vox, ah, he fell asleep. It took him a bit longer to finish up his cigarette before putting it out and resting comfortably beside Vox and falling into a peaceful slumber beside his dearest.
The next day Vox found out this two fuckers who had started that turf war had been conveniently disposed of. Val and Vel were surprised, didn’t know who did it. Vox however, decided to keep quiet about it. He would have to thank him later.