Aaaand underneath the coat and the shirt was more fabric - something with stretchy material but some firm supports. Alastor upped the coquette and bumped his shoulder with Vox's, 'walking' two fingers up the exploring arm.
"It's a support garment. Just there to smooth out the shape, make it a bit more innocuous! They have plenty of room and cushion from my body," he protested, his fingers leaving when they made it to Vox's shoulder and instead running under the bottom of the television frame. "I've had remarks on my weight already, but thanks to the shape, no one suspects anything close to the truth."
He should be glad it wasn't a corset, really. But his act was faltering with a bit of snow over his screen as those fingers walked their merry way up his arm, shoulder to shoulder the way they were.
Vox should pull away from the touch. He knew he was being played with, but he stayed put. Stuck to his guns, of course. Stupid touch starvation-
"Aww... Breaking news: Radio Demon struggles with self-image issues...! Oh, what a scandal, haha... ha..."
A breath- "Who's been- who's been making remarks, haha...? Where do they live...?"
"Oh, sweetheart, don't you think I'd have already eaten them alive if they dared say anything that crossed the line? Hah!" Alastor teased, dragging a claw over the smooth glass, tracing around that yapping mouth. This was sufficiently distracting, wasn't it?
"Besides, it's not a matter of self-image, it's a matter of safety. The Radio Demon can get fat eating the flesh of his enemies, why not! But if it were clear that I was pregnant... well, that would give people ideas about testing just how vulnerable I might be," he hummed, gently tapping between Vox's eyes.
"And besides - I had so many chores to attend to before entering lockdown here. Trying to make sure the Hotel doesn't miss me for my unannounced maternity leave."
Enough that Rosie wouldn't step in, especially, but he's hoping to have plenty of contingencies for that possibility too.
Tink tink. His face scooted a little lower on the monitor to avoid a claw going into the eyes before shifting back. Didn't stop a pleasurable little spark to flit between his diodes, however. "Of course. You and I both know plenty about the scrappier side of this dump."
Lockdown... he supposed in a way it would be considered that. But he'd been scheming, of course. Always scheming. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a lockdown after all.
"...And if those two of yours come sniffing? The drunk and the little scary-beyond-reason one?"
"Husker will take any opportunity to get away from me! And I think he's sweet on someone in the Hotel - he can do whatever he wants, whether he sticks around or goes back to his little gambling hole. And Niffty dear has made fast friends with everyone there and is having the time of her life stabbing all of the rats to death," Alastor rolled his eyes.
"They'll only come if I call them."
Or if he's in apparent trouble - but if he's laying low, that won't be an issue.
"Wait-- are you frightened of Niffty? Hilarious, given how often you would throw your life on the line to get a mere chance of scrapping with me! But I guess there's some sense in you. She's hilarious when let loose on someone. You should ask your cohort - Niffty's oh so proudly pinned a tuft of his wing on her trophy wall."
Oh, that definitely gets a chuckle from Alastor! Finally sitting up instead of invading Vox's space, Alastor started to unfasten the buttons on his coat and take it off. His undershirt is quite snug, the practically emaciated size he was before long gone as he looked downright healthy.
"Hilarious. I wonder what he'd think of his fluff being pinned like a specimen along with a selection of roaches! Be grateful I never gave into the idea of telling dear Niffty that your antennae mean you're a bug."
Unfortunately that was more about keeping Niffty safe... he knew she was a menace, but it'd be a shame to lose the little bug and Vox certainly wouldn't have gone easy on her.
No dwelling on that - since it IS just the two of them and the physical is imminent, may as well remove his shirt as well. Underneath is the... oh, it's definitely a corset. A maternity corset, loose enough with lacing along Alastor's sides to allow him to loosen it for the growing child.
It was like he'd been released from a hook, the pressure in his chest loosening. Vox adjusted his seating position and opted for fiddling with his cuff links to keep his hands busy.
"How kind of you," he replied with a half-eyeroll. With another check of the time, he sat back and enjoyed a momentary and blissful silence. No phone notifications, no buzzing, no Ethan coming in to bother him. He'd effectively cleared his schedule for this nice chunk.
The peace ended when motion caught his peripheral and he peeked, just in time for the undershirt to get gone. Uh-
Wait, that WAS a fucking corset! YOU--
"Uh-"
After all of the touching, the shirtlessness and the corset were starting a rather vexing war in his head. How much time did they have? Could they just-? Could he--
No. No, no, no. He needed to get his shit together. The power balance was absolutely off. Vox fumbled, but reached out to assist as asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." He's unhooked bras before, even with these claws. Watch him make short work of this.
"Man, who makes these any more...? This from that Cannibal Town...?"
"Nope! Found a sewing pattern in an old maternity book and made it myself," Alastor answered plainly, holding the corset in place as it was unhooked. Sure, he could've done it himself, but there was always a bit of feeling around for it or resorting to using his tentacles.
Besides, he could hear the slight buzz from Vox's screen from just a bit of static. The hint of extra light as the tv-head literally glowed from embarrassment. And that's fun.
Once unhooked, Alastor tugged on some cute lace ends that had been tucked in his pocket to release the back and took it off - it was much more obvious that he was pregnant, and not just thicker all around. There was a small bump, distinct in shape and size - enough to hide under the clothes, but probably not for much longer.
It was something so innocuous, removing that corset, but the garment was actually pretty cute all things considered. But Alastor had a little more fill and Vox's desire to touch was beginning to scream. It raised to a fever pitch with the undeniable evidence of what the Radio Demon carried- what they made- after an evening of hedonistic violence, blood and some of the best god-damned sex he's had in life and in death.
The electric current ran steady between his antennae as his mouth ran dry.
"...God, you look so fuckin' good..." Was what his mouth decided to form, tone awed and quiet.
Then he startled. He sat up straight. He crossed one leg tight over the other.
"...Y'know. For a guy who can't really kiss, anyway," he added, cleared his throat and let himself have a little grin.
Now, Alastor had been expecting some remark about his appearance - he'd wagered it was 50-50 on a snide comment regarding his weight or more obvious drooling, so that part he just chuckled at.
But then the remark about the kiss-- Alastor sat up straighter, head rotating on a swivel in shock.
Now THAT reaction was enough to have him practically choke on nothing laughing.
"Oh my god- I was your first!?" He brought a hand to his chest. But his eyes were tearing up with further mirth. Blood-crazed insanity or not, the guy chose to kiss HIM. After realizing so much about himself over the decades, he had no idea how badly he'd wanted something like this.
"Awww, don't- don't be like that...! Everybody starts somewhere...! You just..."
Compose, compose, compose... he propped his chin in a hand but couldn't stop the amused smile. "...You just need to practice. We've got time right now, you know?"
Alastor's head turned away and he tightened his pout. He hadn't even meant to kiss Vox in the FIRST place, it'd just been the instinct that happened after deciding not to completely behead the man! Some... frustrated energy after defying the instinct to devour him whole.
He tasted good. Settled nicely in the stomach, fed their fawn--
This pregnancy was wreaking havoc on his mental state. He knew to expect it from the reading, but... this was beyond the pale. He was being a parody of himself, of a pregnant woman-- person? Whatnot.
"...I suppose that's unequivocally true," Alastor finally said through an exhale.
Put your pride aside - Vox needs to feel rewarded and invested for the child. This isn't about you, right now.
And touch didn't feel skin-crawling today - at least not yet. It'd been... acceptable, even. So Alastor sighed again, facing Vox and leaning his shoulder in again.
"And you have been making significant efforts. It'd be wrong to not acknowledge you taking things seriously."
He fully expected to be told to go fuck himself, but in that Alastor sort of way. He would have a chuckle, make some remark about being shy, and call it a draw for now.
Instead, he seemed to... agree? Then there was this closeness again that didn't slow the stomach that was already flipping around. He... hadn't accounted for that. Maybe he'd get his tongue bitten off for trying.
...Like he intended to use tongue anyway. Alastor was a little too classy for things like that. Maybe.
Was it foolishness if you knew you were possibly being baited, but still did a swan dive into the trap anyway? He'd had his throat torn out before. But he got better.
...
"You made the rookie mistake of trying to emulate what you see in movies," he noted quietly. "But those actors do what looks good to an audience. They rehearsed it. But regular slobs like us..."
He turned and raised a hand, got a little self-indulgent with a sweep back of a section of red and black hair before he propped the palm along the jaw. "...Improvise... and go with the flow..."
Vox could always have switched on his eye, urge him to relax. But he always found the idea so gauche. Instead he eased for a little more self-indulgence, a light touch to one cheek. The sheer nature of him loaned to a small tingle that came alongside the touch of his lips, one that lingered even a few seconds after he'd pulled back.
So much of him was shark-like, much to his delight. But rather than a lunge in, have himself a big bite, his kiss that followed was the warm press of a greeting after spending so long apart. ...Over 70 years, perhaps...?
That hadn't been even slightly close to what he'd been thinking, excuse you, he was simply thinking 'I want to devour you' and instinct pulled him there after--
The gentle touch completely derailed Alastor's thoughts, save for the subtle whispers in the back of his mind reminding him that it could be a dominance game again. But-- those soft touches again... those damn soft little touches keep getting him in trouble.
Go with the flow.
Like a dance. Feel where your partner is moving, match the energy-- it was little. It was just... a meeting of lips. Not overwhelming, not devouring, just...
...Gentle.
... ... ...
After a beat, Alastor returned the faint pressure, hooking a claw in Vox's tie to let him know they could continue. Even if he was tense and awkward about it, even if his mind was running a million miles an hour wondering is this a bad idea or what is he getting from this-- the touch itself felt... comforting.
Gentle.
...He'd really never had truly gentle touches.
When Alastor freed his claw and leaned back a bit, he hummed in thought, studying the glow of Vox's face even if the screen took up his entire field of view this close. Hah.
"...I suppose that's not so bad. Is that a good reward, for you?"
He could have been quick about it, but that hook at his tie may as well have been a set of fingers against his ribcage, his heart. Any tiny, microscopic inclination to pull away was smothered.
They could have had this. This. What went wrong? Where... he just couldn't... god, he-
The angle was a little odd, but that was okay. Without a word, he needed to break the kiss for just a moment to readjust, lips still touching before he was back in. Warmer, this time, just one more. Vox felt that ache, a familiar pang and a momentary tight clench in his throat and he shut down that prior thought. For as tense and as awkward as the other demon was, that faint press was enough to send his stomach into a little freefall.
Like it was the 50s again. Like they'd just been dancing all night again, and the whiskey was fresh on the tongue.
Vox hadn't moved when Alastor pulled away. It took him a second before, as the thread of electricity slowly faded between his antennae, the hems of his closed eyes almost sluggishly began to reopen.
"...Huh?..." It was a soft thought aloud. Reward. Reward, that's... right, he'd been taking things seriously, so. Tit for tat. An exchange. A transaction.
The grin was wide. It's what HE does, right? Keeps them guessing! His screen needed another frame to refresh, going from a mild snow to a steady blue in its glow.
"Looks like an old deer can learn new tricks. You ever feel like brushing up some more, you give me a call."
There. Sufficient. Keeping to character. With a beep sounding off over his monitor, he immediately gathered up the discarded layers and binder. He wasn't sure why he took the extra measure of making sure they weren't folded in a way that'd wrinkle. He shouldn't care.
Despite his ear twitching at the sound of the beep, of the sound of the elevator buzzing to life, Alastor looked - and felt - at ease. Vox hadn't pushed any boundary, hadn't been all over him, hadn't been a simpering mess begging for more - why, he was downright classy about it.
Alastor didn't usually sit around shirtless, it'd always felt... strange, less dignified to do so - but he felt unbothered about it for the first time in a long time as he simply rested his fingers against the tiny curve at his middle, drumming his fingers lightly.
...For all of the terror and complication that this mishap brought him, he... was a bit glad to have what almost felt like a nostalgic moment with Vox, even if they'd never done anything remotely like any of this.
"Yes, indeed. We'll likely get an answer as to how many, on top of hearing a heartbeat."
That part made him a bit nervous - it already felt to Alastor like he was carrying a lead weight in his body just by knowing that a child was in there, but it'd be even more real feeling once he heard that.
"You'll see what the damage will be to your free time and your wallet soon enough."
Right? So classy. Now don't tell the others, or he'll never hear the end of it. Seriously. Don't.
His heart started to kick up, all nerves. Right, heartbeats, easy as pie. The reality of it was sinking in a little, and he wouldn't admit he was a little... excited? Would they be able to tell what it'd be? May as well kick the 'monitor head' accusations to the curb or simply be ready to have his guts eaten over something he literally had no control over, right?
He masked it all with a chuckle as he stood, keeping the folded articles slung over a bent arm. "In all these years, you've never once looked up my profile? My net worth is listed and I assure you it's legit."
He raised a fist to his lower lip and made a show of clearing his throat. Back was straight, steps were crisp, but he was definitely blushing and not remotely looking the other man's way. "So unless I put a good baker's dozen in there, I wouldn't worry."
"I don't know, Vox. You tell me how many pups a mother shark will have."
Alastor doesn't remember any specific number that Vox might've told him before, but if it's a fish, it's probably quite a lot.
At the elevator, the same crone-like nurse candlehead from months ago was stepping out, pulling a cart of equipment and staring at her phone. The telltale red-and-black hypnotism radiated from her eyes and while it disappeared as she blinked and looked up at the two, her unsurprised little smile seemed to show it was still working.
"Ah, miss Jane Doe! You've definitely been eating more like I said, you look much healthier, dear," the old gal congratulated, passing a clipboard with the invoice to Vox. "Nothing invasive today, dear, unless you're up to it."
"We shall see," Alastor grumbled a bit, smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He reached over her and took a hold of the handle of the cart, helping her pull it in - it wasn't especially heavy, and since the nurse didn't tut him for it, he figured he was fine enough to help.
"Such a wonderful employer to help with the care of an employee, you're so very lucky, miss Doe!" the nurse cooed. Alastor shot the aforementioned man a withering stare.
"Yes. How very fortunate," he said, with all of the underlying tone of congratulate yourself a little more, why don't you?
Of course, the answer immediately flit to mind. But he wasn't sharing the exact number, lest he risk Alastor taking the first shadow out of here. Instead he cleared his throat and focused on a quick check of his programming.
Namely, their programming. You see, he had the most sophisticated system to the point of simplicity nowadays, and once he confirmed that it was still working exactly as planned, he brushed imaginary dust off his sleeve.
Vox went from a mild fluster and back to crisp as he accepted the clipboard and looked everything over. Still checked out.
He quirked a brow when Alastor moved to help with the cart. His grip tightened on the clipboard as his head canted just an inch, studying. But he would... behave today, and not raise a fuss about it.
"Hah! Fortunate indeed. Why, I wouldn't be where I am today without so many busy bees dedicating their lives to the betterment of Hell and sharing my dream! And the trick to that is making sure they're fit as fiddles!"
The withering stare was met head on with the cheekiest grin, like a man who just ordered a long-awaited smoothie at their favorite shop.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2025-10-07 08:11 pm
no subject
"It's a support garment. Just there to smooth out the shape, make it a bit more innocuous! They have plenty of room and cushion from my body," he protested, his fingers leaving when they made it to Vox's shoulder and instead running under the bottom of the television frame. "I've had remarks on my weight already, but thanks to the shape, no one suspects anything close to the truth."
no subject
Vox should pull away from the touch. He knew he was being played with, but he stayed put. Stuck to his guns, of course. Stupid touch starvation-
"Aww... Breaking news: Radio Demon struggles with self-image issues...! Oh, what a scandal, haha... ha..."
A breath- "Who's been- who's been making remarks, haha...? Where do they live...?"
no subject
"Besides, it's not a matter of self-image, it's a matter of safety. The Radio Demon can get fat eating the flesh of his enemies, why not! But if it were clear that I was pregnant... well, that would give people ideas about testing just how vulnerable I might be," he hummed, gently tapping between Vox's eyes.
"And besides - I had so many chores to attend to before entering lockdown here. Trying to make sure the Hotel doesn't miss me for my unannounced maternity leave."
Enough that Rosie wouldn't step in, especially, but he's hoping to have plenty of contingencies for that possibility too.
no subject
Lockdown... he supposed in a way it would be considered that. But he'd been scheming, of course. Always scheming. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a lockdown after all.
"...And if those two of yours come sniffing? The drunk and the little scary-beyond-reason one?"
no subject
"They'll only come if I call them."
Or if he's in apparent trouble - but if he's laying low, that won't be an issue.
"Wait-- are you frightened of Niffty? Hilarious, given how often you would throw your life on the line to get a mere chance of scrapping with me! But I guess there's some sense in you. She's hilarious when let loose on someone. You should ask your cohort - Niffty's oh so proudly pinned a tuft of his wing on her trophy wall."
no subject
Vox snickered, and slapped a knee. "He needed escorts everywhere until he'd gone long enough without another encounter! It was pretty hilarious...!"
no subject
"Hilarious. I wonder what he'd think of his fluff being pinned like a specimen along with a selection of roaches! Be grateful I never gave into the idea of telling dear Niffty that your antennae mean you're a bug."
Unfortunately that was more about keeping Niffty safe... he knew she was a menace, but it'd be a shame to lose the little bug and Vox certainly wouldn't have gone easy on her.
No dwelling on that - since it IS just the two of them and the physical is imminent, may as well remove his shirt as well. Underneath is the... oh, it's definitely a corset. A maternity corset, loose enough with lacing along Alastor's sides to allow him to loosen it for the growing child.
"Unhook the back for me, would you?"
no subject
"How kind of you," he replied with a half-eyeroll. With another check of the time, he sat back and enjoyed a momentary and blissful silence. No phone notifications, no buzzing, no Ethan coming in to bother him. He'd effectively cleared his schedule for this nice chunk.
The peace ended when motion caught his peripheral and he peeked, just in time for the undershirt to get gone. Uh-
Wait, that WAS a fucking corset! YOU--
"Uh-"
After all of the touching, the shirtlessness and the corset were starting a rather vexing war in his head. How much time did they have? Could they just-? Could he--
No. No, no, no. He needed to get his shit together. The power balance was absolutely off. Vox fumbled, but reached out to assist as asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." He's unhooked bras before, even with these claws. Watch him make short work of this.
"Man, who makes these any more...? This from that Cannibal Town...?"
no subject
Besides, he could hear the slight buzz from Vox's screen from just a bit of static. The hint of extra light as the tv-head literally glowed from embarrassment. And that's fun.
Once unhooked, Alastor tugged on some cute lace ends that had been tucked in his pocket to release the back and took it off - it was much more obvious that he was pregnant, and not just thicker all around. There was a small bump, distinct in shape and size - enough to hide under the clothes, but probably not for much longer.
no subject
It was something so innocuous, removing that corset, but the garment was actually pretty cute all things considered. But Alastor had a little more fill and Vox's desire to touch was beginning to scream. It raised to a fever pitch with the undeniable evidence of what the Radio Demon carried- what they made- after an evening of hedonistic violence, blood and some of the best god-damned sex he's had in life and in death.
The electric current ran steady between his antennae as his mouth ran dry.
"...God, you look so fuckin' good..." Was what his mouth decided to form, tone awed and quiet.
Then he startled. He sat up straight. He crossed one leg tight over the other.
"...Y'know. For a guy who can't really kiss, anyway," he added, cleared his throat and let himself have a little grin.
1/2
But then the remark about the kiss-- Alastor sat up straighter, head rotating on a swivel in shock.
"...!"
no subject
Alastor's ears pinned back angrily and he turned away, head rotating back in place as he crossed his arms in a clear pout.
"You'd think you'd cherish such a thing - you got one from me when no one else has, even if it was a bout of blood-crazed insanity! Ungrateful."
no subject
"Oh my god- I was your first!?" He brought a hand to his chest. But his eyes were tearing up with further mirth. Blood-crazed insanity or not, the guy chose to kiss HIM. After realizing so much about himself over the decades, he had no idea how badly he'd wanted something like this.
"Awww, don't- don't be like that...! Everybody starts somewhere...! You just..."
Compose, compose, compose... he propped his chin in a hand but couldn't stop the amused smile. "...You just need to practice. We've got time right now, you know?"
1/2
Alastor's head turned away and he tightened his pout. He hadn't even meant to kiss Vox in the FIRST place, it'd just been the instinct that happened after deciding not to completely behead the man! Some... frustrated energy after defying the instinct to devour him whole.
He tasted good. Settled nicely in the stomach, fed their fawn--
2/3
This pregnancy was wreaking havoc on his mental state. He knew to expect it from the reading, but... this was beyond the pale. He was being a parody of himself, of a pregnant woman-- person? Whatnot.
And besides...
no subject
Put your pride aside - Vox needs to feel rewarded and invested for the child. This isn't about you, right now.
And touch didn't feel skin-crawling today - at least not yet. It'd been... acceptable, even. So Alastor sighed again, facing Vox and leaning his shoulder in again.
"And you have been making significant efforts. It'd be wrong to not acknowledge you taking things seriously."
1/2
Instead, he seemed to... agree? Then there was this closeness again that didn't slow the stomach that was already flipping around. He... hadn't accounted for that. Maybe he'd get his tongue bitten off for trying.
...Like he intended to use tongue anyway. Alastor was a little too classy for things like that. Maybe.
2/2
...
"You made the rookie mistake of trying to emulate what you see in movies," he noted quietly. "But those actors do what looks good to an audience. They rehearsed it. But regular slobs like us..."
He turned and raised a hand, got a little self-indulgent with a sweep back of a section of red and black hair before he propped the palm along the jaw. "...Improvise... and go with the flow..."
Vox could always have switched on his eye, urge him to relax. But he always found the idea so gauche. Instead he eased for a little more self-indulgence, a light touch to one cheek. The sheer nature of him loaned to a small tingle that came alongside the touch of his lips, one that lingered even a few seconds after he'd pulled back.
So much of him was shark-like, much to his delight. But rather than a lunge in, have himself a big bite, his kiss that followed was the warm press of a greeting after spending so long apart. ...Over 70 years, perhaps...?
no subject
The gentle touch completely derailed Alastor's thoughts, save for the subtle whispers in the back of his mind reminding him that it could be a dominance game again. But-- those soft touches again... those damn soft little touches keep getting him in trouble.
Go with the flow.
Like a dance. Feel where your partner is moving, match the energy-- it was little. It was just... a meeting of lips. Not overwhelming, not devouring, just...
...Gentle.
... ... ...
After a beat, Alastor returned the faint pressure, hooking a claw in Vox's tie to let him know they could continue. Even if he was tense and awkward about it, even if his mind was running a million miles an hour wondering is this a bad idea or what is he getting from this-- the touch itself felt... comforting.
Gentle.
...He'd really never had truly gentle touches.
When Alastor freed his claw and leaned back a bit, he hummed in thought, studying the glow of Vox's face even if the screen took up his entire field of view this close. Hah.
"...I suppose that's not so bad. Is that a good reward, for you?"
1/2
They could have had this. This. What went wrong? Where... he just couldn't... god, he-
The angle was a little odd, but that was okay. Without a word, he needed to break the kiss for just a moment to readjust, lips still touching before he was back in. Warmer, this time, just one more. Vox felt that ache, a familiar pang and a momentary tight clench in his throat and he shut down that prior thought. For as tense and as awkward as the other demon was, that faint press was enough to send his stomach into a little freefall.
Like it was the 50s again. Like they'd just been dancing all night again, and the whiskey was fresh on the tongue.
Vox hadn't moved when Alastor pulled away. It took him a second before, as the thread of electricity slowly faded between his antennae, the hems of his closed eyes almost sluggishly began to reopen.
"...Huh?..." It was a soft thought aloud. Reward. Reward, that's... right, he'd been taking things seriously, so. Tit for tat. An exchange. A transaction.
That's how it was with the Dealmaker.
2/2
"Looks like an old deer can learn new tricks. You ever feel like brushing up some more, you give me a call."
There. Sufficient. Keeping to character. With a beep sounding off over his monitor, he immediately gathered up the discarded layers and binder. He wasn't sure why he took the extra measure of making sure they weren't folded in a way that'd wrinkle. He shouldn't care.
"Looks like we're up."
no subject
Alastor didn't usually sit around shirtless, it'd always felt... strange, less dignified to do so - but he felt unbothered about it for the first time in a long time as he simply rested his fingers against the tiny curve at his middle, drumming his fingers lightly.
...For all of the terror and complication that this mishap brought him, he... was a bit glad to have what almost felt like a nostalgic moment with Vox, even if they'd never done anything remotely like any of this.
"Yes, indeed. We'll likely get an answer as to how many, on top of hearing a heartbeat."
That part made him a bit nervous - it already felt to Alastor like he was carrying a lead weight in his body just by knowing that a child was in there, but it'd be even more real feeling once he heard that.
"You'll see what the damage will be to your free time and your wallet soon enough."
no subject
His heart started to kick up, all nerves. Right, heartbeats, easy as pie. The reality of it was sinking in a little, and he wouldn't admit he was a little... excited? Would they be able to tell what it'd be? May as well kick the 'monitor head' accusations to the curb or simply be ready to have his guts eaten over something he literally had no control over, right?
He masked it all with a chuckle as he stood, keeping the folded articles slung over a bent arm. "In all these years, you've never once looked up my profile? My net worth is listed and I assure you it's legit."
He raised a fist to his lower lip and made a show of clearing his throat. Back was straight, steps were crisp, but he was definitely blushing and not remotely looking the other man's way. "So unless I put a good baker's dozen in there, I wouldn't worry."
A beat. His eyes slowly trailed.
"...That number's not... possible, right...?"
no subject
Alastor doesn't remember any specific number that Vox might've told him before, but if it's a fish, it's probably quite a lot.
At the elevator, the same crone-like nurse candlehead from months ago was stepping out, pulling a cart of equipment and staring at her phone. The telltale red-and-black hypnotism radiated from her eyes and while it disappeared as she blinked and looked up at the two, her unsurprised little smile seemed to show it was still working.
"Ah, miss Jane Doe! You've definitely been eating more like I said, you look much healthier, dear," the old gal congratulated, passing a clipboard with the invoice to Vox. "Nothing invasive today, dear, unless you're up to it."
"We shall see," Alastor grumbled a bit, smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He reached over her and took a hold of the handle of the cart, helping her pull it in - it wasn't especially heavy, and since the nurse didn't tut him for it, he figured he was fine enough to help.
"Such a wonderful employer to help with the care of an employee, you're so very lucky, miss Doe!" the nurse cooed. Alastor shot the aforementioned man a withering stare.
"Yes. How very fortunate," he said, with all of the underlying tone of congratulate yourself a little more, why don't you?
no subject
Namely, their programming. You see, he had the most sophisticated system to the point of simplicity nowadays, and once he confirmed that it was still working exactly as planned, he brushed imaginary dust off his sleeve.
Vox went from a mild fluster and back to crisp as he accepted the clipboard and looked everything over. Still checked out.
He quirked a brow when Alastor moved to help with the cart. His grip tightened on the clipboard as his head canted just an inch, studying. But he would... behave today, and not raise a fuss about it.
"Hah! Fortunate indeed. Why, I wouldn't be where I am today without so many busy bees dedicating their lives to the betterment of Hell and sharing my dream! And the trick to that is making sure they're fit as fiddles!"
The withering stare was met head on with the cheekiest grin, like a man who just ordered a long-awaited smoothie at their favorite shop.
Speaking of- "You like smoothies...?"
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