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The club is blaring, music dancing in everyone's ears while some get up to particularly sinful dancing. Others are standing around in corners, solo cups in hand. Some successful in dragging off a quick Valentine's Day one night stand, some less so.
The words of the song are incoherent but judging by the tone and tempo, it's definitely the exact kinda music Val would've enjoyed. Probably obscene.
And wasn't that a figurative quick in his non-existent teeth? To have your on-off boyfriend break up with you before Valentine's Day, just the day before. And then be surrounded by reminders of him? Usually Vox would be in bed by now, having some fun with Valentino and maybe watching a cheesy rom-com if he could convince the moth into it despite how Valentino usually called true love "bullshit".
Valentino had dumped him just the day before. Vox hardly remembered his reasoning, the reasons just blur together since it happens so often. From forgetting to pick up dinner to being a minute late for their latest date night. Vox and the rest of Hell was tired of hearing about it, especially when it results in occasional power outages from a presumably furious TV overlord and more radio vs TV fights than usual.
So here he was at the club, watching dancers earn all their hard earned cash, swirling their lithe bodies around in lacy pink and seductive velvet, all dressed up for Valentine's Day and all the sad schmucks here without a date. Along with Angel Dust. He was here too, with Vox.
You see, there's a very good reason for this, rest assured.
•°•°•°•°•°•
"He just broke up with me...and your suggestion is to go to a club?"
"Yeah and? Ya got a problem with my amazin' ideas?" Angel had asked over the phone and even from here, the snark tasted familiar. It made his screen display a dopey smile.
"...Fuck it, yeah. Let's do it "
•°•°•°•°•°•
The spider had planned the whole entire thing. Every last bit down to his elaborate get up which consisted of a sleek and sleeveless, red dress that clung to his hips and swung down to his shins. White ankle boots. Always one for looking his best. The sinner was festive enough though. His whole being-covered-in-hearts and all.
Much to Angel's disappointment, Vox could not be persuaded into dressing up with him. Closest he got was getting the TV to ditch the red bow for a pink one with a red heart in the center. Didn't look half bad neither. Pink was never his color in Vox's opinion, always was Angie's color. He usually left pink, reds, whites, and even purples to Angel.
"Why are we here again?" The overlord asked, his voice involuntarily cutting out at times. Angel, ever the expert in staticy voices, managed to decode it anyways.
"Cause you were a mopey schmuck."
Vox swirled his index finger in the air along to the music. He could barely hear Angel humming along. His eyes hardly lingered on the dancers. They were definitely gorgeous and they knew it too judging by the winks they sent out at the crowd. But Vox wasn't too interested on focusing on them.
"Guess so."
"Look, both of ya's gonna get back together, a week tops. Don't worry 'bout it." Angel tried to reassure but judging by the slump in the other's shoulders, it didn't pan out as intended. He sighed and leaned forwards, his top set of forearms on the table.
"What's got ya so down, toots?"
"He's never broken up with me near Valentine's Day. Sure he works more but I haven't not spent Valentine's Day with him in about 2 dx-decades." Vox said, his truth finally coming to light. His digital eyebrows remained furrowed in an almost pensive look.
Angel sat there. He sat and stared at Vox, his own mismatched eye's meeting Vox's mismatched eyes. Finally he began to shake his head and his shoulders shook with laughter.
"Fuck him! We don't need him! He ain't impeding on Vox and Angel's time, no siree!" The pornstar angrily exclaimed. He slammed his hand, palm down, on the table.
"We're gonna get drunk off our asses and quit thinkin' 'bout that bastard!"
"Bartender, we'll take all the shots! All o' the ones you got!" The bartender raised an eyebrow and waited for Angel to specify the drinks they wanted. Which was a cutesy, pink drink for Angels and lots of shots. And a glass of whiskey as boldly requested by Vox.
They sat and drank. Vox was occasionally, albeit drunkenly, flirting with some men and ladies around the club. Angel kept pointing out men he thought was cute, playing games of how many them looked like fuck boys and how many of them he would love to [REDACTED]
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
"Hell yeah, babe!" Angel called out to one of the dancers who managed to pull off a difficult spin around the pole. Judging by the dancer's excited glint in their eyes, they were proud of it. Vox was thoroughly wasted and therefore clapping and cheering the dancers on right along side Angel.
Angel noticed this and turned to Vox, grabbing his shoulder as he grinned. Vox's attention was piqued as he looked over at him. "Come on, wanna go get some food by that one truck you like?"
Vox gasped like a kid on Christmas morning, his digital eyes full of fairy lights and his pupils hearts. "Could we?!" He exclaimed, immediately hopping up from his seat. He threw down a few dollar bills on the table, probably about 2 more bills than needed.
The TV practically dragged Angel out of the club, his gloved hand firmly holding the spider's wrist.
Angel winked at some of the dancers and gave thumbs-up with his unoccupied arm before they finally left. The dancer smiled back.
"You are really excited about this, aren't'cha?"
"It's the bx-best food around this shit hole!" Vox said, his voice glitching out more than usual. Angel was sure the TV would be calling him over the next day about his everything being fucked up as he wasn't supposed to drink nor eat. For now, the spider was ecstatic that he managed to get Vox's and his own mind off of the moth. Which was quite an accomplishment if he did say so himself.
They got their food from the truck, both of them with a hot-dog and fried pickles which looked delicious and packed with unnecessary calories. Vox looked at how Angel almost nervously looked at the food and shot the spider a smile.
"He's nx-not here." A drunk Vox reminded, smiling when Angel nodded with determination and began to scarf down his food. Even when wasted, the TV could remain mostly nice to him. Not one attempt at grabbing his ass which put the TV very high up on his list of people he liked down here. Which was honestly just Vox and Cherri.
Vox was always respectful towards him and recognized that most of Angel was an act he had to put up. He always separated Angel Dust the pornstar from Angel Dust the real-life person. One of the few people Angel had ever known to actively do this.
It was peaceful. Angel couldn't help but wonder if this was a little slice of Heaven. Maybe there was a little angel feather that gracefully fell to Hell and blessed him with his own slice of serenity. The food was magical, the food truck was not too far from him, his friend sat next to him, and it was (almost eerily so) quiet.
Magical. Peaceful. Joyous little flips all throughout Angel's stomach as his hands trembled on his thighs.
They quietly stared out at Hell from the park bench they sat on while they ate. The city was red and pink, perfect for this very night. Neon lights all about. Vox felt his own stomach flutter with butterflies. And with alcohol, of course. He felt ecstatic, full of energy, and most importantly, full of appreciation for the spider next to him.
"Thank you, Angie."
"Anything for a friend."
Vox and Angel smiled at each other before looking back out. They weren't lovers. But they still loved each other dearly. Friends who were perfect for each other. Like 2 puzzle pieces that fit together but weren't meant to fit together. They just managed to make it work. It was perfect.
Valentine's Day suddenly felt more special to the both of them.