Work Text:
Vox [6:24:33 pm]: whatcha doin’?
Husk [6:27:12 pm]: no.
Vox [6:27:19 pm]: what do u mean no? u don’t even know what i want.
Husk [6:30:42 pm]: no.
Vox [6:31:00 pm]: come on. just hear me out first.
Husk [6:33:00 pm]: no. go play with alastor.
Vox [6:33:12 pm]: who says i’m not playing with alastor. 😉
Husk [6:40:35 pm]: new phone. who dis?
Vox [6:41:00 pm]: funny.
Vox [6:41:04 pm]: that’s ok. i’ll let myself in.
Husk’s head popped up from his phone, unsure where to look because, obviously, Vox wasn’t just going to use the front door like a normal fucking person. He still hadn’t quite worked out how Vox traveled yet – it had seemed like he needed very specific conduits to move around (lights, electrical outlets, the kind of things that made sense only if one didn’t think too hard about it), but he’d been bouncing around with a lot more freedom lately. Of course, Husk didn’t know much about electricity (besides the fact it fucking hurt) so he couldn’t really say what the fuck Vox was doing with it.
His head whipped around at the sudden burst of ozone, zoning in on Vox before the little fucker had the opportunity to try and sneak up on him. Husk looked him over and narrowed his eyes.
“No,” he said firmly.
Vox was dressed sharply in a well-tailored suit and looked good. Husk might even have agreed to whatever the younger Sinner was going to suggest (just for the chance to tear him right back out of that suit), but for the fact that Vox had a very suspicious duffle bag hanging off his arm. A very heavy suspicious duffle bag.
“Aw, baby, hear me out?” Vox wheedled, setting the duffle bag on the floor and approaching Husk with outstretched arms. Husk let him catch his free hand but looked down at his phone in an admittedly transparent ploy to appear uninterested. “We haven’t even had a real date, Husk. Don’t you want to take me out tonight?”
Husk glanced pointedly at the duffle bag. “What do you need a duffle bag on a date for?” Vox wiggled his eyebrows, and Husk couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “No, stop. I know that isn’t filled with sex toys, you little pervert.”
“I’m the pervert?” Vox grinned. “I mean, I won’t deny that, but Husk, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“What’s in the box? What’s in the box?” Vox teased back and Husk understood that reference. He rolled his eyes. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you that I don’t have any body parts in the bag?”
“You’d think so, but I’m surprisingly uncomforted.” Husk sighed and let Vox press against him, widening his eyes into a picture-perfect puppy dog expression. After a few seconds, he groaned and leaned in to kiss the television demon. “Can you promise me that you don’t have body parts in the bag?”
Vox kissed back, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll even pinky promise if you want.”
“No, just regular promise.”
“Yes, Husk. I promise that I do not have any body parts in the mystery bag.”
That didn’t really make him feel any better, but the distraction of Vox’s body pressed against him, warm and very inviting, was enough to make him push any qualms to the side. Vox was right, after all. They hadn’t gone on a real date yet. At least not, a date in any traditional sense of the word. He’d hardly count the time they fucked in the club because they’d just jumped straight into fucking. And, sure, while the theme park was a little closer to the traditional definition, Vox had spent most of his time whipping around the park with Velvette while Husk had trailed behind with Alastor. Not exactly a date, unless he counted it as a date with Alastor since he spent most of his day with the Radio Demon.
And he was not counting that as a date with Alastor. Fuck.
“Do you have any place in mind?” Husk asked, sliding his phone in his pocket and trailing his fingers lightly down the lapels of Vox’s jacket. Vox nodded with a grin, pulling away. Much to Husk’s unending disappointment.
“I even made reservations.” Husk blinked. “What? Did you expect that we’d go to a burger joint for our first date?”
“Where?”
“Le Vilain Pigeon,” Vox said with a flourish. Husk narrowed his eyes.
“What about a pigeon?”
“It’s supposed to be very fancy,” Vox answered without answering. He looked Husk up and down. “You can’t wear that.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Husk snapped. “This is a suit.”
Vox flicked his wrist impatiently. “You know what’s wrong with it. Go change.” He pulled his phone out. “Hurry. We’re on for eight and I don’t want to get a reputation for being late. Well, at least not until I’m running things around here, that is.”
Fine, whatever. Husk had other suits, if this one was so appalling. A part of him was glad that Velvette, at least, wasn’t here for this little interaction. Though, maybe she’d know exactly what to put him in and could do that funny little magic trick of hers. Which was another thing Husk didn’t quite understand, but didn’t bother to put any time into trying to understand.
By the time he was dressed and rejoined Vox in the living room, the duffle bag was stashed off to the side and Vox looked… bulkier. Which was so fucking suspicious that Husk could barely make it a few steps into the room before he gestured incredulously at the younger man.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t body shame me,” Vox huffed back, buttoning his jacket carefully in front of him. Husk could faintly see the outline of a gun in his pocket and sighed.
“Why do you need an artillery if we’re just supposed to be eating out?” Vox’s expression slid into a leer and Husk pointed a claw angrily at him. “I swear, man, you cannot make everything a fucking sex joke.”
“Why not?” He grinned and Husk scowled. “I thought you liked my sex jokes. Come a little closer and I’ll tell you some more.”
“Absolutely not.” Husk walked forward and grabbed him by the shoulder, sighing when he felt something hard underneath the undoubtedly designer jacket. “You wanted dinner, we’re going out to dinner. No more stupid jokes. No more lollygagging.”
“Pity,” Vox pouted, letting himself be manhandled towards the door. “I thought you liked gagging on my lolly.”
Fucking guy.
For once, Husk got to sit in a fucking car with Vox instead of careening madly, upsettingly, through the Void. It was a relief to sit his ass in the backseat and not worry whether some unholy amalgamation of magic and just straight up fuckery was going to try to rip a chunk out of him while they flew through. And look, Husk had seen some shit come out of those fucking Void portals. And, sure, they usually died screaming within minutes of making their way into the Hellish realm. But that didn’t change the fact that Husk was flying through their literal fucking home every time Alastor launched them in there for shits and fucking giggles. So, he couldn’t fucking be blamed for enjoying sitting back, calmly, and pouring himself a nice glass of brandy while the driver pulled away from the curb.
“This is nice,” Vox said, unenthusiastically. Husk took a sip of his drink, not bothering to offer Vox one. If he wanted a drink, he was going to need to ask for one. “I mean, whoo-hoo, yay, riding in a car.”
He tilted his head against the window, pretending to be so bored out of his mind that he had spontaneously fallen asleep. Husk could’ve left him alone to sulk while he enjoyed his booze, but he let his mouth fall into a smile.
“Come here,” he instructed, pressing the button that raised the partition to the front of the car. Vox’s eyes opened quickly at the sound and Husk beckoned him closer. “Want something to ride?” Vox’s eyes instantly flashed down to Husk’s crotch and he chuckled. “Nah, not that.”
He pulled a curious television demon onto his lap, guiding the smaller man’s legs on either side of his own. Vox sat down and Husk placed a hand on the back of his neck, watching him for a moment before pressing his lips to Vox’s. Big fucking surprise that Vox instantly opened his mouth, encouraging Husk to deepen the kiss, and even bigger fucking surprise that he wrapped his arms around Husk’s shoulders. For all that he was a harbinger of chaos (chaos, of course, being the fucking Radio Demon), Vox was becoming utterly predictable once Husk had him in his arms.
He reached over and tapped one of the buttons on the control panel, sending a command to the driver to stop the car. He set his glass down in the cupholder and Vox pulled away slightly, noticing the car slowing to a stop. He tilted his head and Husk grinned.
“We’ve got a few minutes still,” he assured Vox, lowering his hands to his waist and tugging him up from his seated position. Husk slid down a little while encouraging Vox to kneel so that his face was level with the other Sinner’s crotch. Vox smiled down at him.
“Oh, I see now,” he breathed, bringing his hands to the front of his pants and quickly undoing his belt and lowering the fly. Husk batted his hands away and took him out of his trousers, stroking him to full hardness while Vox tilted his head back, bracing himself on the back seat. “This is a new place for us to fuck.”
Husk hummed in agreement and replaced his hand with his mouth, glancing up in time to see Vox tense before relaxing into the sensation. He wrapped his hands around the small Sinner’s hips, partly to guide him and partly to keep him from fucking down Husk’s throat hard enough to make the Overlord gag. There was a reason, after all, that he generally preferred to have his partner on their backs – or at least in a position where they couldn’t move too much – whenever he gave head. He enjoyed listening to the soft sounds that Vox was making and figured the restraint wasn’t bothering him much, if at all.
After a while, Vox shifted his hand from bracing against the back seat to stroke restlessly at Husk’s head. Another tell that Vox was getting close and a much easier one to tolerate than when he tugged on Husk’s ears – which he was doing so much harder now than he had at the beginning. Just getting a little too comfortable in his knowledge that Husk wasn’t going to retaliate even if he pulled too hard occasionally. Husk tightened his grip on Vox’s hips and pulled him forward, swallowing down around him as deeply as he could.
Vox whined and tipped his head forward. Husk glanced up, flexing his fingers on Vox’s hips as the Sinner tried to buck forward. Losing control so prettily, and Husk had no intention of holding him off. They had reservations, after all.
With a gasp, Vox tensed and spilled without a warning. Well, a verbal warning, at least. Husk could tell by the jittery little thrusts of Vox’s hips, he was just about done. Holding the other demon close, Husk swallowed down everything, just knowing that Vox was going to start bitching and whining if anything got on his suit (and, honestly, it looked so fucking good on him that Husk wouldn’t have even disagreed with his outrage). He waited until Vox started to become dead weight in his hands before he pulled off and wiggled up, placing Vox back on his lap.
“What was that for again?” Vox asked, momentarily blissed out and feeling especially affectionate as he pulled Husk in for a kiss. Husk reached over and signaled for the driver to resume their drive. “You taste like me.”
Husk had done a really good job until that moment of keeping himself as objective as possible, but that little comment had his dick twitch unhelpfully in his trousers and he immediately commanded it to ignore the demon in his lap. Or at least ignore the desire to get inside Vox as fast as demonically possible.
“Does this help improve your perception of cars?” Husk asked and Vox laughed. “Reconnect whatever neurons in that head of yours to have a positive association whenever you think about riding in a car?”
“Oh, a little bit of psychological manipulation – just for me?” Husk reached down and did up Vox’s trousers again, fastening the belt and giving him a pat on the crotch. Vox squirmed a little, grinning at Husk despite the obvious overstimulation of Husk’s hand resting over his clothed cock. “Aw, Husk, you shouldn’t have.”
Before Husk could register what he was doing, Vox snatched up his glass of brandy and threw it back in his mouth (all at once, the fucking audacity). He tried very hard to play it totally cool, but Husk felt a bit of petty satisfaction when Vox made a face after trying to toss the whole thing back like a shot.
“That was good brandy,” Husk sighed, taking the empty glass from him and setting it back down. He licked into Vox’s mouth once more, tasting the remains of the drink for a few seconds before he patted the younger Sinner’s hip gently. “Get off – you’re going to wrinkle my suit.”
Vox slid off with a roll of his eyes but settled himself next to Husk, taking Husk’s hand in his own and threading their fingers together. What in the actual romantic gesture was this? Husk blinked down at their hands and glanced up at Vox, stopping himself from asking when he realized that Vox was staring passively out the window as Husk’s driver made his way through the congested Hellish traffic to the restaurant.
That… was nice, actually. He hadn’t just held hands with someone just to hold their hand in, well, a while. He shifted back in his seat and watched as Vox moved their hands onto his lap, tapping his own hand in a soft, barely there rhythm. And it would’ve been disgustingly wholesome but for the fact that Husk could feel the outline of a weapon against the back of his hand and sighed.
For someone who could just fucking microwave people’s eyes out of their sockets (at least, he thought it was comparable to microwaves because it wasn’t like he was a fucking scientist or some shit and was making his best educated guess), Vox really had quite a few weapons on his person right now. Husk had felt the gun he had tucked into the back of his trouser waistband (which, admittedly, he probably ought to have taken some precautions about before he sucked Vox off, but priorities being what they were, he didn’t) and he could feel whatever it was that the younger man had tucked into his front pocket.
“This is just dinner, right?” he asked cautiously, and Vox turned his head.
“Of course,” the other Sinner answered breezily. “Just a nice little night out on the town. You and me.”
Husk squeezed Vox’s hand with a sigh. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”
“I would never.”
Yep, lying right to Husk’s face, but he supposed it was better than being bored. And, hey, depending on what Vox needed all those weapons for, maybe it would be a romantic evening after all. They could share a Bonnie and Clyde kind of moment, if it came down to that. Thankfully, Husk had thought ahead and brought his own guns, though he had put on a fucking holster to avoid the risk of blowing an ass cheek clean off, but hey maybe Vox was into the danger of that kind of thing.
He seemed like the type.
By the time they had arrived, Vox had meticulously inspected his suit to make sure there were not stray hairs or wrinkles on it (though, he hadn’t been nearly as considerate about Husk’s suit, little asshole, which was admittedly wrinkling in the lap region more than he had anticipated). He gave Husk a once-over, shrugged, and stepped out of the car. Husk grumbled under his breath and followed Vox out onto the street.
And stared at the single most pretentious looking restaurant that he had ever seen. Life or afterlife. Despite all the truly heinous shit that Husk had personally been involved in (or witnessed firsthand because fucked up shit tended to like a wide audience), this fucking place made his ears fall against his head. Even the fucking plants outside of the building had an overwhelming air of superiority and Husk glanced at Vox in bewilderment.
Overlord or not, Husk was not going to survive ten minutes here.
The Matre’d eyed them with dripping condescension and Vox swept forward with one of his most winning smiles while Husk hung back, tail switching with agitation. Oh, Lucifer, they were going to be turned away, weren’t they, and it wasn’t like Husk minded the idea of that (because really, they could just go to burger joint and Husk would’ve been plenty happy with that), but he had a reputation to protect. Damnit, Vox. Being summarily rejected from this posh looking piece of shit restaurant with what he imagined would be extreme prejudice was going to look fucking awful, even if he didn’t care. Husk glanced around, hoping that none of his peers were to witness this humiliation because Vox just had to get them in over Husk’s head and–
“Husk?” Vox called lightly and Husk whipped his head around to stare wide-eyed at Vox. The smaller demon tilted his head slightly. “Are you coming?”
Husk’s gaze snapped between the Matre’d and Vox, baffled when he stepped forward and Vox slipped a crisp bill into the other demon’s hand, speaking fluid French. Refraining from pinching himself (because, what the fuck, Vox spoke French, on top of everything else? Husk was going to need to hear that very soon), the Overlord followed closely behind the other two demons until they reached a fancily set table and were instructed to take their seats. Vox sat down across from him and Husk waited until the Matre’d left their table before leaning forward, hands clenched around his menu.
“Even the menu is in French?” he hissed, and Vox’s eyes darted around before settling on him again.
“We are in a French restaurant,” Vox replied, taking a sip of his water. “Did you expect Mandarin?”
Husk sneered down at his menu. “Can you speak Mandarin, too?”
“I’m a man of many talents, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Husk shot him a look, not even surprised when Vox winked back at him. And, fuck, all the frustration that had been building while Husk experienced his fish out of water moment fizzled away. Because, yeah, Vox did have many talents. Husk was beginning to see that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of who exactly the younger Sinner was. “Want me to order for you?”
Husk shrugged nonchalantly and watched while Vox ordered both of their meals with what Husk assumed was perfect French when the waiter returned to their table. Vox carefully took another look around before leaning closer.
“Meet me back at the kitchen?” he asked.
Actually, Husk was starting to look forward to his meal by now. He didn’t want to miss out on whatever Vox had ordered (he just knew he hadn’t heard escargot being ordered, so Vox must’ve ordered something that Husk would eat) and if he followed Vox back to the kitchen…
He raised an eyebrow. Oh.
“Is that code?” the Overlord asked, and Vox smirked. Well, then. If Vox wanted to make it up to him back in the kitchen, he didn’t suppose he ought to protest too much. He watched Vox slip away from the table, appreciating the slightly overexaggerated sway to his hips as he walked (and, yeah, Husk knew he was doing that deliberately just to fuck with him, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the view). After a minute, Husk stood and followed the general direction Vox had headed. He could already feel his heartbeat picking up and took the time to consider how exactly he was going to fuck the television demon in a fancy restaurant – did bending him over the weird little dessert tray constitute a health code violation? Not that Hell had those, of course, but he felt like he was in the mood to violate some health codes along with Vox.
“Ready, kitty?” Vox asked when Husk finally found him and, fuck, yes, he was ready. He reached out to grab Vox’s waist, only to have a gun thrust into his outstretched hand. What in the actual fuck? Vox gave him a grin that was truly unhinged before cocking the gun in his hand. “You can shoot whoever you want, but the llama guy is all mine.”
“Oh, fuck,” Husk groaned as Vox kicked the door to the kitchen open, gun pointed out in front of him as he strode in with obscene confidence. Fumbling with the holster, Husk quickly took out one of his own weapons as he hurried in after Vox. Why? He didn’t fucking know, but his dick found this the opposite of a deterrent, and he tried to ignore the fact that he was walking into whatever the fuck this was with a boner.
“Listen up, motherfuckers,” Vox called out, waving his gun over his head for a moment. The kitchen staff all froze before several rolled their eyes. Husk suspected this was not the first time an armed madman burst into their workspace. “I’m only here for Dennis, but I’d be happy to waste anyone who gets in my way. Comprende?”
“Dennis!” a stork Sinner squawked. “This one’s for you!”
Husk’s assessment seemed to be accurate. The llama Sinner that Vox mentioned shuffled forward, holding his hands up with a weary expression. “What the fuck, man? We’re in the middle of dinner.”
Vox lowered his weapon and aimed directly at Dennis’s head. “I’m here as a favor to a friend. It seems that you’ve been getting a bit handsy with some ladies who didn’t appreciate your overtures.”
“What?” Dennis asked with a tired shake of his head.
“You touched some women who didn’t ask you to, and they told on your ass.”
“It’s Hell,” Dennis responded, and Husk’s fur began to stand on end. He noticed the harder set of Vox’s mouth. “Am I supposed to be a fucking gentleman?”
“I guess not,” Vox allowed. He pulled the hammer back. “But then I guess you shouldn’t be surprised when karma comes back to bite you in the ass.”
Karma, as it was, seemed to be Vox dressed in a nice suit with a sleek silver gun in his hand. Husk watched appreciatively as Vox fired his weapon without another word, killing the big Sinner. The kitchen erupted into chaos and Husk was immediately glad he had decided to carry a gun in both hands. Bullets and blood flew (along with a very hot pan that Husk just managed to duck before it smacked him in the face because, sure, at this point in the day, why the fuck not?) and the sound of screams echoed throughout the kitchen.
He ran forward and swung Vox back into his arms, shooting the sous-chef before the demon was able to bring down a pot over the television demon’s head. Vox blinked, twisting around to see what Husk had shot at, before sighing.
“My hero.”
“All right, you had your fun,” Husk snapped, shoving him away, towards the back door. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Vox nodded and they made it halfway to the door before he skidded to a halt. “Wait!”
“What now?” Husk shouted as Vox scurried over to where plated food was waiting to be taken out to the paying customers in the dining room. He watched incredulously as Vox snatched a carryout container from the shelf and pushed the contents of one of the plates into it. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet, Husk,” Vox scolded. “Do you want me to get low blood sugar?”
Husk’s eye twitched as Vox found a plastic bag and shoved the take-out container into it. He hurried up to the Gambling Overlord and gave him a staticky peck on the mouth. Husk scowled.
“Okay, I’m all set,” Vox insisted. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
They stumbled out the back door, Vox clutching his food in one hand with a wide grin. Husk watched him, half-stunned and half-annoyed at himself for not anticipating this bullshit. Vox, on the other hand, was entirely elated and the occasional spark popped off the end of his antenna as he jumped down the few steps into the alley, landing with the effortless ease of the young who didn’t have fucking knee problems, thank you very much. Husk made his way down the stairs much more sedately, though he supposed that could be attributed in equal parts to the gravitas of his title and the fact that he was just too old for this shit.
“Oh, fuck!” Vox crowed happily. “That was awesome! I’ve always wanted to do that! And it went so much better than I expected! Fucking yes!”
Husk blinked when Vox twirled around, wrapping his arms around Husk’s waist. The bag of food bounced off the back of Husk’s thighs and he could only stare down at the smaller Sinner in astonishment before he raised his hand to press against the small of Vox’s back.
“And you were so fucking hot when you shot that one guy,” he said, pressing himself against Husk, abruptly reminding him that he was still hard and still wanted Vox, even if he was once again covered in blood and gore. He ground his hips against Husk’s. “Holy shit, fuck me right now, Husk.”
Yep. Oh, yep. Husk would do that. He manhandled Vox back against the wall, tugging frantically at his belt with one hand while still holding a gun in the other. Vox nuzzled against his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, and Husk groaned. He let go of Vox to try and holster his weapon, but the smaller Sinner caught his wrist.
“No, fuck me and hold onto the gun,” he commanded against Husk’s neck. And, oh, fuck did that go straight to Husk’s dick. He fumbled around, trying to free himself from his pants and trying to keep his gun in his other hand. Fuck, this was so much harder than he had anticipated. Fuck.
“Need a hand?”
Husk sighed in relief. “Yeah, thanks.” He set the gun down in the outstretched hands at his side and finished undoing his trousers. Fumbling with Vox’s belt was proving to be a little more difficult, even with two hands, because he kept fucking squirming, and Husk was tempted to spin him around. Pin his hands behind his back so he’d stop moving quite so much. It’d be an easier angle, too, and he wouldn’t need to get Vox’s pants all the way off (which would be a good thing because the unholy levels of griping that were sure to result from dirtying Vox’s designer pants with actual dirt was just not something he was equipped to deal with today). He managed to get Vox’s belt undone and froze on the spot.
Vox giggled. Just a little. Fucking prick.
Turning his head very slowly, Husk’s eyebrows shot up in surprise to find Alastor standing next to them, smile irritatingly in place, holding Husk’s gun in his hands. He tilted his head ever so slightly, ears flopping to the side with the motion.
“Oh, don’t let me stop you, Husk,” Alastor said pleasantly. “I am but an observer.”
“Hi, Al!”
Husk slapped a hand over Vox’s mouth and narrowed his eyes at Alastor. “Why are you lurking back here?”
“I need a reason to lurk now?” Alastor sighed and shook his head. “What is Hell coming to when a demon needs a reason to lurk?”
“Fucking fucker,” Husk snarled. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep his cool. If he tried to kill Alastor, he wouldn’t get to fuck Vox. Fuck, why couldn’t he get to have his cake and eat it, too? Always had to make the hard choices. Vox chose that moment to drop his hand down between them and cupped Husk’s cock through his pants. Hard. Husk gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. “I’m going to fuck him, Alastor.”
Alastor held his hands up placatingly. “Well, far be it from me to interfere.”
“You always interfere.” Alastor hummed affirmatively, grin widening. Husk yanked Vox's hand off his cock. “Don’t you dare stop me halfway through.”
“Husk, my good man, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Vox licked his palm and Husk distantly wondered if this was what it felt like to lose one’s mind. “I’ll even help you out, lend a hand, so to say.”
“Just… fine,” Husk hissed, yanking his damp hand away from Vox’s mouth. The television demon ran his tongue along his upper teeth before giving Husk the most shit-eating grin he had, and Husk snapped. He grabbed Vox by the shoulders and jerked him away from the wall before spinning him around. With a bit of foresight, he caught Vox’s head with one hand before shoving him forward, making sure he didn’t knock the smaller demon’s head against the wall. Alastor chuckled. “Don’t fucking touch me, Alastor.”
“Vox, can you imagine?” Alastor snickered. Vox laughed, even as Husk wrenched the Sinner’s trousers down to his mid-thighs. “Husker and I having physical relations? It doesn’t even bear consideration.”
Fuck him, but was Alastor’s mean little commentary doing something for him? Husk was so fucked up. He really needed to find someone to sit him down on a couch and dig through his fucked-up fucking head because unholy shit. Seriously, though, what in the ever-loving fuck was wrong with him?
He fumbled for the lube in his jacket (and Vox made a sly little comment about that, too, which Husk was just shutting out now because between the two of them, he might actually be going insane, ha ha ha) before pushing a finger into Vox. The younger Sinner groaned, and Alastor stepped in closer, leaning back against the wall beside him. Husk shot him a half-wild look, tail switching behind him, and worked on prepping Vox as fast as possible.
“Seems Husk’s in a bit of a rush this evening,” Alastor drawled, and Vox turned his head to face the Radio Demon. He rested the side of his head against the wall and gazed up at Alastor with a crooked smile. “Can’t imagine why. I thought he liked fucking you, darling.”
“Shut up,” Husk snarled, crooking his fingers just so. Vox whined helplessly this time and Alastor’s expression became positively predatory. He flicked a claw against Vox’s antenna and Husk swore at the way Vox tightened around his fingers. Fine. Fine, if Alastor wanted to be involved, Husk had an idea.
He tugged Vox’s hips away from the wall, holding him in place with one hand while he slicked himself up before pressing into Vox. The smaller Sinner whimpered, fingers scrambling against the wall, and Husk came to stop only once he was fully inside. Resisting the urge to just pound into Vox as hard as possible and get himself off quickly so he didn’t have to spend another weird minute with Alastor standing so close while he was trying to fuck (fuck’s sake, what was that even about? Weird fucking power play, wasn’t it?). Husk met Alastor’s gaze.
“Jerk him off for me?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Oh, fuck, yes!” Vox moaned. “Please, Al, that’s so fucking hot. Please?”
“If you insist,” Alastor said, like he was doing Husk a fucking favor. Like he wasn’t standing there just thinking how he was going to sabotage this and give Husk the bluest blue balls in the history of blue balls. Because that’s the kind of shit Alastor did.
Vox tightened around him as Alastor wrapped his fingers around the younger demon’s cock and gave him a slow stroke. Husk moved one hand from Vox’s hip and grabbed him by the back of the neck, giving him a hard squeeze. Vox gasped at that, and his hand shot up to clap over the top of Husk’s hand. With a sneer, Husk leaned close.
“You’re going to come when I tell you to,” he instructed. Alastor’s grin sharpened and he glanced up from Vox’s face to meet Husk’s gaze. Well, that was encouraging. At least Alastor seemed on-board with this little game. “Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Vox breathed, trying to brace himself against the wall as Husk started to thrust in, not bothering to work his way up to a punishing pace, but jumping right in. There was a squeal of feedback for a moment, and he almost stopped but Alastor shook his head, maybe anticipating Husk’s hesitation. His hand sped up and he leaned forward to capture Vox’s mouth with his own. Husk watched them kiss, appreciating the way Vox’s screen started to flush pink again and realizing his eyes were going to flash those silly little hearts while Husk was inside him and–
Husk groaned, speeding up despite himself. Judging by the way Vox was already clenching around him, he wouldn’t need to hold off much longer. He slid his hand from Vox’s hip to wrap around his middle, pulling him down ever so slightly. The new position drew a gasp from Vox who promptly started babbling against Alastor’s mouth.
“Fuck, Al! I’m close already, what the fuck? This shouldn’t be so hot, right, but I’m so fucking turned on right now, I think I’m just going to come after like five minutes,” he rambled. Alastor laughed and twisted his wrist enough to have Vox buck into his hand with another squeal of feedback. “Wait, wait, wait! Don’t do that yet! Husk has a whole thing… Al, please!”
Husk did laugh breathlessly this time and tightened his hold on Vox’s neck. “Come on, then, baby. Come for us.”
Predictably, sparks flew from Vox’s antennae, and he stiffened instantly as he came, hard. Husk squeezed his eyes shut and thrust a couple more times, savoring the feeling of Vox’s electricity running over his skin like sparklers on the Fourth of July, and came, too. He let go of Vox’s neck to brace his hand against the wall, trying hard not to collapse on top of the smaller man. If he was going to do overdramatic bullshit during sex, he’d prefer it if Alastor wasn’t hovering inches away with that horrible grin on his face.
After a minute, he grew aware of the sound of clapping and groaned. The Radio Demon really was a piece of shit.
“Excellent show, Husk,” Alastor said cheerfully, and Husk hoped he’d fall down the next uncovered manhole he walked near. Would serve him right for being the Hell’s biggest fucking bastard (fucking swim in the sewers, Alastor). “Very entertaining. I do have notes, if you’d like to hear them.”
“I swear, Alastor,” Husk muttered. He adjusted his hold on Vox as he straightened up. The small Sinner was shivering and, not giving a shit whether Alastor was watching or not, Husk wrapped him in something closer to a hug. Vox huffed out a breath and pressed closer for a few seconds before he started to squirm impatiently. Well, so much for postcoital cuddling. He added that onto the to-do list of things to accomplish when fucking Vox.
He pulled out, earning a hiss from Vox, and opened his eyes. Alastor already had a handkerchief dangling from his fingers and Vox laughed a little breathlessly.
“It’d be a shame to sully such a fine suit.”
Husk snatched it away and set about cleaning himself up as Vox turned around, leaning his back against the wall. He reached out and caught Alastor’s hand with his own, bringing Alastor’s hand to his mouth to kiss along the knuckles. Alastor’s smile softened considerably and there was a clicking sound before soft music started playing.
“What the fuck!” Husk whirled around, pants still clinging low on his hips, and stared up at the surviving kitchen staff staring at them from the open back door. “You can’t murder half the staff and then fuck in our alley!”
Vox started to cackle, little fucking menace, and Husk yanked his pants up as quickly as he could. He was an Overlord, for fuck’s sake, this wasn’t how he was supposed to be spending his date night. A quick glance at Alastor proved what a piece of shit the Radio Demon was – he pulled Vox against him and gave Husk a little wave before the shadows swallowed them up.
Without even fucking offering.
“My fucking gun, Alastor!” he roared to the very empty space where the media demons had been seconds ago. Husk then managed a very fucking undignified exit from the alley and vowed to never take Vox out for dinner again. They could just get take-out next time.