"What kind of man would I be if I left you wanting for more?" Vox buzzed in amusement, his free hand cupping Alastor's cheek. Fuck, he wanted to kiss him again.
Hey, he could just do that now.
Slowing their pace so they didn't knock teeth or squish Alastor's nose too much, the Overlord pulled his partner into a slow, steady, oddly patient kiss. He'd worked out a lot of his extra energy from dancing, seems like.
Alastor's signal shivered with pleasure as their lips -- or a close enough proximity in Vox's case -- connected. Slow and steady. Like a finely-aged wine.
There would be time for passion and fire later. They literally had all eternity.
As he pulled away, he joked, "I was wrong: Now you've spoiled me. I'll be utterly intolerable to anyone else."
"I'll make sure no one else could even compare to what I give you," Vox promised. Their dance finally wound down, and he pulled out the good whiskey - on the rocks, for himself. Temperature was a lot clearer to his senses and he liked the chill compared to how it made his body run just a little flush with heat.
"Darling, the last person who might have had even the slightest chance disappeared in the rearview mirror ages ago." Alastor tapped where Vox's nose would be on the screen.
He didn't judge the man for how he drank his whiskey. There was nothing wrong with a bit of ice. Helped mellow out the alcohol.
Alastor, however, drank it neat.
"Mmm..." he murmured after that first sip. "Gluttony really does have the best brews. I can't imagine one on Earth that could've come close." He chuckled. "Then again, most of what they were serving at the speakeasy was cut with God-knew-what."
Sitting on the loveseat, Vox sprawled out but patted his thighs, inviting Alastor to come take a seat as well.
"Yeah, rough times, I heard. When I was alive booze was back to legal and honestly, it'd end up being half of what suckers would stock in their nuclear bunkers along with oatmeal and water that'd go shitty and moldy in giant barrels," Vox scoffed, swirling his drink and enjoying the sight before taking a sip. "If you had a good head on your shoulders, you were living it up instead. Though my success down here easily overshadows what I pulled off up top."
Alastor boldly decided to take Vox up on the offer...and sat down sideways in Vox's lap.
"You know," he began casually, as if he hadn't just boldly used Vox as a seat, "whiskey in those nuclear bunkers was a wise idea. It can be used as both a drink and as a disinfectant."
Hot-- play it cool, Vox. He casually looped an arm around behind Alastor, giving a little extra back support.
"If the bunkers even worked in the first place. Duck and cover was pretty much 'keep people from having mass panic'. I'm still wondering when the shoe drops and all of Earth's population drops down here 'cause someone finally pushed the button."
"Oh they might have had some effectiveness, but doesn't it take decades for nuclear fallout to dissipate?" Alastor asked. He remembered one post-apocalyptic role set on Earth following Nuclear Armageddon. "One of us would be fine if starving by the end of it, but there's no way a living human would be able to outlast it."
"That so! How's it feeling, picking up power? Good, right?" Vox smirked in enthusiasm. Does he get to see and experience that power again? In control, not just from an unconscious deer or one that was especially mad at him? His body was already humming with excitement.
"I only go short distances at the moment. It's easy to get lost in the Void," Alastor said as he walked back. "But sooner or later I'll get the hang of it!"
"Reminds me of getting lost in the grid the first few times I hopped! You'll master the shadow-hopping in no time. Can't wait till you figure out the crazy shadow tentacles."
"Only a little, thinking of you~" Vox teased, coyly beckoning Alastor closer. He also deeeefinitely has that special recording. "I think it'd be a pretty creative way to practice fine motor control when you figure those out."
Alastor slid back into position, chuckling. He teased, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hoping I'd practice 'fine motor control' with you."
"Guilty as charged! I would be ecstatic to be the guinea pig for any freaky stuff you wanna try~" Vox laughed, scratching the back of Alastor's hair indulgently.
"Oh, I'll lovingly lavish you in physical affection. Especially with your cute, sensitive ears," Vox hummed, raising his scritches to the bases of those red ears.
"And the cute way you arch, and sigh..." Vox hummed lewdly. He was clearly getting hard, but he didn't do aaaanything besides gently massage that head and connect their signals again, sharing the pleasure and the content he felt. This was perfect, absolutely perfect.
If he had a lip, he'd be biting it. He shifted against the touch, pleased, lavishly dragging his claws over the softest part of the base of the ear, massaging it. "Only if you want, don't forget," Vox purred in delight. "No acting."
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Hey, he could just do that now.
Slowing their pace so they didn't knock teeth or squish Alastor's nose too much, the Overlord pulled his partner into a slow, steady, oddly patient kiss. He'd worked out a lot of his extra energy from dancing, seems like.
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There would be time for passion and fire later. They literally had all eternity.
As he pulled away, he joked, "I was wrong: Now you've spoiled me. I'll be utterly intolerable to anyone else."
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He didn't judge the man for how he drank his whiskey. There was nothing wrong with a bit of ice. Helped mellow out the alcohol.
Alastor, however, drank it neat.
"Mmm..." he murmured after that first sip. "Gluttony really does have the best brews. I can't imagine one on Earth that could've come close." He chuckled. "Then again, most of what they were serving at the speakeasy was cut with God-knew-what."
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"Yeah, rough times, I heard. When I was alive booze was back to legal and honestly, it'd end up being half of what suckers would stock in their nuclear bunkers along with oatmeal and water that'd go shitty and moldy in giant barrels," Vox scoffed, swirling his drink and enjoying the sight before taking a sip. "If you had a good head on your shoulders, you were living it up instead. Though my success down here easily overshadows what I pulled off up top."
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"You know," he began casually, as if he hadn't just boldly used Vox as a seat, "whiskey in those nuclear bunkers was a wise idea. It can be used as both a drink and as a disinfectant."
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"If the bunkers even worked in the first place. Duck and cover was pretty much 'keep people from having mass panic'. I'm still wondering when the shoe drops and all of Earth's population drops down here 'cause someone finally pushed the button."
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His static buzzed as something occurred to him. He set his glass of whiskey down.
"I almost forgot! I've been experimenting with my powers! The shadows have been most helpful on that front!"
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Then he beamed at Vox's obvious enthusiasm.
"Watch this!"
And with that, he melted into shadow, reappearing halfway across the room.
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"Look at that! You got your own version of the wire trick!! Perfect!"
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For. Reasons. Both horny and also not horny.
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He arched his body to press his head farther back into those claws.
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However, it became very noticeable very quickly that Vox was enjoying himself as well.
Well, it'd be rude not to reciprocate.
He reached down with one clawed hand and began massaging the bulge he found there.
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