God help him, he minutely leaned into the touch before he could stop himself, but in his remaining planted in his seat could only go so far. Vox kept himself almost professionally unreadable, but his gaze had locked in.
"Don't mind one bit. It's been... one hell of a day."
But it was the flick of the diode that was the true threat, his grip on the table tightening. Vox hated to see Alastor go, but was glad to watch him leave... because Valentino was absolutely right- No. Nooonononono.
He was messing with him. He was messing around and it was working, but he said he was tired so he needed to get his shit together.
He took a breath. Another. Then he stood to clear off the table and do as promised. It'd cool him down! Perfect.
Al had only a few things to his evening routine - a sip of seltzer in lieu of his nightcap, brush his teeth (yes, he did brush), and finally leaving out a small, shallow dish of sugar-water and flower petals from the day's bouquet for the fireflies. Not all of the little bugs ate, but offering a bit of something like nectar seemed to keep them around for just that little while longer in their adult stages...
Though he'd planned to stay awake and toy with Vox a bit more, have some fun, by the time Alastor was finally off his hooves and laying down in the bed a sense of relief washed over him.
Relief that the weight wasn't entirely on his pelvis anymore. Relief that this was his bed, made to his tastes, in the safe space his mate had created. Relief that the little one was doing well enough to keep peeping at him, no substance to the signal aside from trying to mimic the earlier frequencies. Once Alastor hung the monocle he liked to wear up and closed his eyes, the gentle back-and-forth buzzing with the pup lulled the Radio Demon into a pleasant slumber.
With everything scored away, it was time for him to do the same. After some freshening up, the day's events rather hit him like a ton of bricks, and greeting him in the mirror was a low battery display over his monitor. While he didn't truly have anything like a power source to speak of, there was a gag among his R&D team to keep that sort of visual feature in that Vox couldn't help but find amusing.
It helped remind him to rest, too. ...Sometimes.
So he wandered in, draping extra layers over a waiting chair as he noted that Alastor was- as warned- out like a light. It reminded him of times so long ago, and he briefly considered just camping out on the floor.
Instead, he stuck to his guns after some hesitation: There, behind? No... this side...? That side. He lifted the covers, and with near surgical precision, he slid beneath them while trying to elicit the least amount of movement possible. But it left him lying face to face, half an arm's length apart. Vox dimmed his monitor.
Al looked... peaceful, when he slept. Cute, even. This was the guy that scared the piss out of Hell... but just couldn't manage with him. Vox couldn't remember of any period where he had been genuinely afraid of the guy. He was a freak, sure, but... no matter how much he claimed to be a creature- a monster- the Media Demon didn't ever really see it.
All Vox saw was an unrepentant brat. ...And he loved him, in part, for that.
God damn it, Vince... you really are as pathetic as he says you are.
Yet as he slowly moved one hand across the gap, sliding from its spot beneath the covers until it found his, he slowly clasped anyway. It was close enough that he, with a snail's pace, brought it in closer, closer... until he could touch his lips to the knuckles.
So be it.
His screen went dark completely. Though it would be while before he actually slept, ever the night owl, he could at least try to doze... and mull over everything in the limo.
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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
"Don't mind one bit. It's been... one hell of a day."
But it was the flick of the diode that was the true threat, his grip on the table tightening. Vox hated to see Alastor go, but was glad to watch him leave... because Valentino was absolutely right- No. Nooonononono.
He was messing with him. He was messing around and it was working, but he said he was tired so he needed to get his shit together.
He took a breath. Another. Then he stood to clear off the table and do as promised. It'd cool him down! Perfect.
no subject
Though he'd planned to stay awake and toy with Vox a bit more, have some fun, by the time Alastor was finally off his hooves and laying down in the bed a sense of relief washed over him.
Relief that the weight wasn't entirely on his pelvis anymore. Relief that this was his bed, made to his tastes, in the safe space his mate had created. Relief that the little one was doing well enough to keep peeping at him, no substance to the signal aside from trying to mimic the earlier frequencies. Once Alastor hung the monocle he liked to wear up and closed his eyes, the gentle back-and-forth buzzing with the pup lulled the Radio Demon into a pleasant slumber.
no subject
It helped remind him to rest, too. ...Sometimes.
So he wandered in, draping extra layers over a waiting chair as he noted that Alastor was- as warned- out like a light. It reminded him of times so long ago, and he briefly considered just camping out on the floor.
Instead, he stuck to his guns after some hesitation: There, behind? No... this side...? That side. He lifted the covers, and with near surgical precision, he slid beneath them while trying to elicit the least amount of movement possible. But it left him lying face to face, half an arm's length apart. Vox dimmed his monitor.
Al looked... peaceful, when he slept. Cute, even. This was the guy that scared the piss out of Hell... but just couldn't manage with him. Vox couldn't remember of any period where he had been genuinely afraid of the guy. He was a freak, sure, but... no matter how much he claimed to be a creature- a monster- the Media Demon didn't ever really see it.
All Vox saw was an unrepentant brat. ...And he loved him, in part, for that.
God damn it, Vince... you really are as pathetic as he says you are.
Yet as he slowly moved one hand across the gap, sliding from its spot beneath the covers until it found his, he slowly clasped anyway. It was close enough that he, with a snail's pace, brought it in closer, closer... until he could touch his lips to the knuckles.
So be it.
His screen went dark completely. Though it would be while before he actually slept, ever the night owl, he could at least try to doze... and mull over everything in the limo.