Chapter Text
Angel hated and loved nights like this in equal measure.
He was sore and tired and his long night wasn't over yet, he knew. Still, at least Val was allowing him to float to the ceiling during his break, uninterrupted, letting the colors swirl with the ecstasy that was still swimming in his system. Angel’s staggered breaths became a loud symphony in his ears.
If he wasn't so blitzed, maybe he would have noticed the door opening and someone coming into the room sooner. As it was, his brain was still fuzzy on drugs and Val's pheromones, eyes rolling up into their sockets occasionally.
Still, Vox's screen was a pretty blue, announcing his arrival, and Angel couldn't help but stare at it transfixed while the reflective electric shine bounced on the ceiling with his footsteps.
“Voxxy, baby, finally, you’re here. I need you tonight.” Angel couldn't see his advances, but he knew Val was wrapping long arms around his boyfriend, playing with his screen because it was disturbing and breaking up the blue glow.
“Play with me, amorcito.”
Angel blinked slowly. He was still half-naked and lying on the bed that Vox was currently beckoning his boyfriend to.
From the corner of Angel's eyes, Vox’s screen twisted into an expression of distaste. Well, Angel couldn't knock him for that one as he noted the mussed and filthy sheets beneath him. Still, he turned his head and looked at Vox fully, but bleary, even if Vox's eyes were once again, as always, tethered to Val.
Everyone in hell wore a mask, or at least the smart ones did. Except few of them were as adept or consistent at it as Angel considered himself to be. Vox was a conundrum, though. Either he wore his emotions completely on his sleeve, or he was impossible to read.
Right now it was the latter.
Val reached down and rubbed Angel's thigh seductively even while beckoning his boyfriend.
“Amorcito,” He called Vox the same pet name he'd whispered to Angel only minutes prior when he'd ordered him to ride him with rough fingers pulling at his hair. Angel didn't have the bandwidth to try and figure out if Vox realized or even cared about those kinds of details, though.
Still, Vox took a step forward and he smiled genuine and warm at Val. Sultry. Damn, the man was heaven-blessed with Rizz that even gave Angel's long dead stomach butterflies a jolt. It was…a good look.
Vox took Val's face in both his blue-clawed hands, running a thumb across his cheekbone. He eyed Val's exposed body up and down, then slowly, his pupils were flooded with a mixture of excitement and lust. He digitally licked his lips.
“Come play with us, baby,” Val whined.
Voxx stiffened at the word ‘us.’
His eyes drifted to Angel like he'd momentarily forgotten he was there entirely.
Not for lack of trying, Val had never gotten Vox to touch Angel, no matter how many pornos he directed with him in it. No matter how many times Val had tried to ‘sneak’ Angel in as their third in bed.
It wasn't that Vox was a prude. Angel had seen him invite strangers into his and Val’s bed, even a few other whores, porn stars and even Val’s owned souls. Vox occasionally even sampled some of the talent on his own time after a shoot. But not Angel. Never Angel.
In fact, Vox barely ever acknowledged him as a presence, once sitting twenty minutes in a room alone with Angel without a single glance or word. It had been one of many of Val's many attempts to bait Vox, leaving Angel alone with him while he ran a quick ‘errand.’
It was all too obvious on Val's part– Angel standing in his most revealing red dress while Vox read over business paperwork as if he wasn't there. In fact, it had been incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and Vox didn't even minutely take the bait.
More often than not, though, Angel felt like a pawn in Val's game and it continued to unsettle him the longer it went on. It wasn't just that Vox didn't want him that made Angel feel negatively towards him. It was that Val wanted Vox to want Angel, maybe even as much as he did, and Vox simply didn’t.
That made Vox dangerous, because somehow, when he didn't find Angel appealing, it was always Angel that was punished for it.
Even more than that, though, Angel could see the resentment growing behind Vox's eyes every time Val pushed him onto him, and that was dangerous, too. Maybe even more so than Val's mercurial moods.
“He's all ready for you, handsome,” Val whispered into Vox's neck, licking the side of it. He traced a hand down his front, trailing his chest, unbuttoning to show off sleek blue skin.
Vox inhaled sharply at the sensation–yeah, Val had a way of getting him going if the bulge in Vox's pants were any indication. Angel had been an unwilling voyeur to their relationship more than he'd wanted to admit, but one thing was always clear to him–Val knew what buttons to push with Vox, at least. He could always get it up for the moth, and Val smirked, eyeing the results with a smug look. Angel supposed that's why they'd been together so long despite the way they fought constantly outside of sex.
Vox was caught up in the moment. He already looked spent by whatever day he’d had in the office, shirt and tie disheveled before Val had even started messing with it.
He looked straight out of a porno wet dream, completely riled and already half lidded.
Part of Angel wished they would both forget Angel was there. Then maybe he wouldn’t have to watch the thinly veiled rage under layers of lust. But then, suddenly, Vox was looking at him… really looking. Not with hate, with… want. It was as if he’d forgotten his scripted resentments, falling prey to Val’s coaxing.
The lust didn't die down when he continued to look at Angel, eyes roaming his exposed body as Val flipped him over rough like a pancake and spread his legs, his wrecked hole right in Vox's view. Angel hid a wince from sore muscles at the action, burying his cheek in the pillow, but looking over his shoulder at the beckoning blue light, hoping his facial expression was inviting rather than stoned.
Angel waited for Vox to turn away, as usual, or make a face at him.
Well, he did, but it wasn't an expression Angel had ever seen on him before, at least not directed at him. Subconsciously, Angel realized he hadn't said a word since Vox walked in–Val had wrecked him good and hard earlier and he never expected… well, this. He kept his mouth shut, just looking, worried if he broke whatever spell was happening that Val would punish him for ruining the mood later.
Val was still kissing Vox’s neck, eyes darting between Angel and the flat screen as if enthralled in his favorite porno. His eyes started glowing with excitement and his expression spoke it all: maybe tonight would be the time it finally worked… that Vox would finally sleep with his favorite toy…
For all his attempts to seduce Vox at Val's behest, the idea of finally sleeping with him was strange and far off for Angel. He disliked Vox precisely because this could and would never happen. But maybe tonight…
Vox crawled up over Angel's body, eyes blown wide with lust, as if to move to kiss him. He hesitated, leaning close as if to brush their lips together. Maybe it was the drugs, the exhaustion, or how pleased Val looked, but Angel ached for him to close the distance.
With a medium amount of force, Vox prompted Angel to roll onto his back, then gathered and pulled both of Angel's wrists above his head, locking them between the blue claws of his right hand.
“That's it, baby. Show him who his other daddy is,” Val's voice was husky and he began touching himself, too excited considering nothing had currently happened yet.
Angel stared into Vox's eyes, breath growing heavier, then sinking… sinking into red, swirling waters, drowning…staring at Vox’s spinning eye, lulling him under..
Somewhere in the background, he heard Val:
“Yeah, take control, use your powers. Order him put on a show. Make him yours. Just like that.”
Angel felt his mind plummet deeper, trying to understand the context of the moment. The swirling lights and good feeling faded under the heavy pull of red. Something was wrong.
Angel inhaled but he couldn’t breathe. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Vox's face wasn't what it was a moment ago. It was too much, too overpowering. There was lust there sure, but there was something deeper and darker, too: resentment.
Angel thrashed at the hands holding him down, panic building in his chest.
“I'm sorry,” he said, tears falling down his face. “Whatever I did.. I won't do it again… I'm sorry…”
Vox’s hands tightened around his wrists and he clamped them there with force, his hypnotic eye still glued Angel in place.
“Calm down,” Vox ordered, softer than Angel could have anticipated, and immediately Angel felt his muscles relax and unwind.
Then, Vox released his wrists, exhaling one last command. It wasn't sharp, but it was firm:
“Get. Out.”
Angel didn't bother with his clothes. He didn't even look at Val one last time in his hasty escape. Instead, he did exactly as ordered and ran to his bedroom in the tower, slamming the door behind him, trying to steady his breath as he thought about the sound of Val screaming and glass shattering behind the closed door.
***
Angel wasn't sure things could get worse than Vox ignoring him, when Val's whims had begged for the opposite.
He was wrong.
Since that night, it was like a flip had been switched. To the outside viewer, Vox remained as nonchalant and avoidant towards Angel Dust as ever. Still, every time he could spare a furtive glance, there Vox was, staring at Angel with that same mix of interest and disdain.
Vox's eyes were fast becoming Angel's new fear and obsession. At first he tried to ignore them, then put on the bravado of his flirting persona. He even winked at Vox once when he caught his eyes when Val's back was turned during a shoot. But even if it drew out a lift in the corner of his digital mouth, it was still an expression that set Angel’s teeth on edge.
Angel slammed the door to his room the moment he got back, glancing down at his hands and they were shaking. There was a camera in his room, not that it was new. There was always one in every room in the Vee tower. In the past, he never stressed because he knew Vox had such little interest in him. The red light had always been on, indicating it was never being observed.
But now the light was green.
Angel swallowed. This game was wearing him thin, already, before all the rules had been ceremoniously changed on him and he found his patience running out.
For a moment he thought about leaving, as if there was a space in hell that he could run to. The skin under his fur was still on fire, eyes glued to the wall even as his peripherals were focused solely on the green dot in the corner of the room.
Angel swallowed, squaring his shoulders and making up his mind. Then, with steady hands he undressed, making sure to make a show for the camera, throwing in a sultry look over his shoulder for good measure.
“Ya’ know, the real thing feels better than just watching’,” he said in a half whispered voice, shimmying out of the last of his clothes, running fingers through his chest fluff, across his stomach and down lower.
There was a staticky sound that emanated from the camera and the green light glitched.
Angel set his jaw.
“Come finish what you started or stop spying on me creep.”
There was a pause, then the light turned back to red.
Maybe he’d said the wrong thing again and scared him away. Or the right thing–depending on what he wanted. Angel wasn't sure if he was pleased or not. Vox had been his target for so long, whether he wanted this with him was difficult to tell without Val in his head, pushing him to seduce and reel him in regardless.
He didn’t have long to figure it out, though. In a bright electric flash, Vox appeared, dress shirt completely unbuttoned revealing his smooth blue chest, the zipper to his pants undone while one long claw traced over the bulge in his pants.
Angel’s eyes flicked to his, and he was met with Vox’s familiar expression… darkness wrapped in desire.
Fuck. Okay, yeah, Angel really did want this. Something specific may be wrong with him, the way his hands still felt cold with fear, but he couldn’t help but take a step toward him, his form washing in the blue glow of Vox’s screen.
Vox took a reflexive step back, then froze.
“I ain't gonna jump ya, suga’,” Angel said. Just thought you outta get a bit more comfortable.
Slowly, Angel started to help Vox undress and his eyes were flush on him, drowning him in want. It made Angel’s heart speed up with the roaming attentions, almost feral in Vox’s eyes, almost as if to make up for his indifference for years.
“Turn around,” Vox said, and when Angel did, he pushed him to the bed on his knees, followed by light but firm claw marks on Angel's back that made him shiver.
It wasn't drawn out. Everything rushed past him like a burst champagne cork and he couldn't contain the spill.
Angel moaned as Vox fingered him, then Vox bit him on the shoulder with a wet zap that shocked him.
Then, he entered Angel.
The pressure was too much, not for the physicality of it, but for the raw power.
Vox chained them together with his claws digging into Angel's hips in a heady display of possession.
Angel should’ve spoken, but he found himself quiet, the room too quiet in return, only the sound of Vox’s thrusts and the small sounds pulled from him, mirroring Vox's sporadic grunts.
The light blew. Vox kept going, reaching a hand up to tug roughly at Angel's hair, licking up his spine at the back of his neck with the tingle of electric current.
“Nggh…right there,” Angel whispered, and Vox's hand was snaking its way to Angel's cock, stripping it between the warmth of his hand until Angel shook beneath him.
Vox came first with another shock, this one warm and deep inside him, sending Angel toppling over quickly after.
Then, the room was quiet, both of them breathing heavily, coming down from the high, waiting for long drawn out moments until everything was stilled.
Unceremoniously, Vox pulled out. For the first time since he appeared in Angel’s room, his eyes left Angel, reinstating the long held cold distance of indifference between them yet again.
He pulled his shirt over his shoulders with steady precision, dressing clinically. When he finally had his tie back in place, he cleared his throat with a cough to a fist, then finally acknowledged Angel yet again, but this time with visible distance.
“You’re an incredible actor,” he said casually.
Angel was still naked and spent, dragging the blankets from his bed up his front in mock modesty.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Vox didn't answer. Instead, there was an unreadable emotion in his eyes. He leaned down and placed a soft, chaste, almost nonexistent kiss to Angel's temple:
“I know you resent me. You don't have to pretend you don't, even if we're like this.”
Then, before Angel could respond, Vox was gone in a white lightning zap.