“Oh, yyyyyyeaaah! I’m fucking amazing! Fuck! Who’s your daddy, huh? Who?”
“You, papi,” Valentino crooned into the pillow, thinking that if this was one of his shoots he’d be yelling for a cut, leaping out of the director’s chair and sending whoever wrote these stupid hackneyed lines out of the closest window, along with both of the stupid whores reciting them and whoever else happened to be nearby.
Unfortunately, in this little scene, there was no director, no script, no cameras, and no lights but one – a fuzzy golden sliver floating in the darkness next to the bed, a Cheshire cat smile that never turned off.
The occupant of the chair was not going to yell for a cut.
“Fuck yes! I’m the fucking winner, baby. I’m the fucking GOD!”
“Sí, eres Dios,” Val echoed, stretching one of his arms out to brush along the floor, feeling for his phone – freezing when he felt Vox’s (frankly, pathetic) thrusting suddenly stop.
“What the fuck did I tell you about that, Val? English, for fuck’s sake.”
“Sorry, baby.” Val’s claws closed around the phone. “You gonna punish me?” He twisted his head around to flash Vox a sleazy smile, but his partner simply muttered “Whatever” and went back to his boring little jackrabbit routine.
Whatever. Whatever.
Val began attempting to position the phone at an angle and distance that he could see, at least well enough to recognise his contacts by the colors in the pictures, if not by the indecipherable scribbles their names had turned into. Should have kept the glasses on, he thought irritably, but then reminded himself that they were expensive, limited edition, and not worth the risk of breaking should Vox finally decide that he had had enough of his little “god” roleplay and return to the old reliables that had served them so well in the past – a little bit of the old ultraviolence, decidedly one of Val’s favorite aspects of immortality. No need for safe and sane down here, darling.
“You’ll do whatever I say,” Vox continued, and Val briefly paused in his efforts, hopeful. “Everyone will. They’ll all trust ME! because I’m the fucking best.” He sped up, digging his claws into Val’s fluff. “I’m on top now, and nobody can take me down. Nobody!”
Val promptly brought the phone up onto the bed, inches from his face. No more need for subtlety – he’d seen this one before.
This was the part where his co-star started talking to the chair, and he was free to lie back and relax until the tape run out.
Stupid slut, he texted Angel, then followed it up with a heart emoji – leave it to the spider to figure that one out. Where have you been? I’ve missed you, querido. He scrolled up to try and find the last read receipt – more than a day ago. Answer me when I fucking text you, he added. Who the fuck do you think you are?
“I’m the fucking best. Not you, not Lucifer, not Lilith, not any of those fucking angels.”
You’re nothing. Worthless trash. Why are you ignoring me?
“Soon everyone will know it, and everyone will follow me.”
They’re all going to get sick of you eventually. You might as well come home now.
“I’ll knock those pearly gates out of the fucking sky, and everyone in Heaven and Hell will be singing MY name. Mine!”
You belong to me, and me alone. Don’t you forget.
“Voxtek, baby, all the fucking way. Say it.” Vox’s claws dug deeper. “Say my fucking name.”
“Vox,” Val mumbled absently. I love you, baby.
“Not you,” Vox snapped. “Alastor, fucking say it.”
Pathetic whore. Kill yourself.
The phone suddenly disappeared from his hand, and Val heard it crash against the wall. “Say it!” Vox screamed, and when Val turned to look at the yellow blur in the corner it was twice as wide as he’d ever seen, the moon right there in the penthouse shining just for them.
No, he decided, not for Vox. And not for me, either.
The owner of the smile, the occupant of the chair – whatever he did was for nobody but himself.
Must be nice.
“Augh, fuck!” Vox moaned (and there’s the money shot, people, that’s a wrap), collapsing on top of Val, flatscreen pressing his antennae down into his head. Val wriggled out from underneath, shoving Vox’s limp body to the side and feeling around on the endtable for his glasses and cigarette holder.
“Bravo. What a performance.” The glowing smile was joined by two red orbs. “I must say, I thought I’d get bored of this show night after night, but with each iteration the desperation grows more palpable. It’s quite fascinating. Perhaps there’s something to this perverse little exercise, after all.”
“Fuck you,” Vox snarled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re not here to be a sex critic.”
“No? Then pray tell, why am I here, hmm? Can’t get it up without a witness? How very disgusting.” Alastor cocked his head to the side playfully. "Or, hmm – is this some sad attempt to make me jealous? Show me what I could have had, if I had accepted your offer all those years ago? I’m afraid to say I’m not impressed. What do you think, mon cher? Am I missing out?”
It took a moment for Val to realize he was the one being addressed, and before he could think of anything to say Alastor answered his own question. “No, I didn’t think so.”
“You shut the fuck up or the muzzle goes back on,” Vox ordered, jabbing a finger at Alastor, who simply continued grinning. He then turned to Val. “And what’s your problem, huh? You’re taking his side now?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Val pointed out as he slipped on his glasses, extending his cigarette holder for a light – Vox simply glared at him and crossed his arms. Val tutted. “Voxxy. You gotta relax, baby.” Val scooted closer to him, wrapping two of his arms around Vox’s shoulders and snuggling in close. “Don’t listen to him,” Val murmured, lifting the holder again – this time, Vox reluctantly sparked it, and Val blew him an appreciative kiss. “I’m right where I want to be.”
“Yes, quite. But all things considered, Vincey, if you had a choice, which of us would you rather have in bed with you right now? A useless question, I suppose. Seeing as you don’t.” A cruel, nasally giggle punctuated the remark, and Val felt Vox’s body stiffen along with his own.
“I could fuck you right now, if I wanted to,” Vox hissed. “I could make you.”
“I’d absolutely love to see you try.” Alastor put his feet up on the bed, and his smile didn’t falter but his eyes went coal-black. “It would be the last thing you ever do.”
Vox stared at him for a moment, then broke into a nasty smile of his own. “I said if I wanted to. God, do you only ever listen to the sound of your own voice?” He laughed as he broke away from Val’s embrace and stood up, cords snaking out from his back to dress him in his suit. “Listen, as much fun as it is to watch you try and play your little mind-games, don’t forget which of us is holding the leash.” One of the cords coiled around Alastor’s throat, and he leaned in close. “You’re my bitch, and nothing you say is going to change that.”
“Whatever you say, Vincey,” Alastor intoned from the speakers above them, and the cord tightened.
“Don’t you fucking call me that.”
“Voxxy,” Val called, peering around for his phone pointlessly (smashed to pieces, most likely – the third time this week), “come back to bed, won’t you?” He stretched languidly and pouted, settling into a seductive pose. “Daddy misses you.”
“Later, Val,” Vox said dismissively, releasing Alastor and turning on his heel for the door. “I’ve got work to do.”
“Work?” Val complained, straightening up. He glanced at the clock. “It’s 1am.”
“The network never sleeps.” Vox straightened his bow-tie. “You keep an eye on him, alright, babe?” He smirked. “Shouldn’t cause you any trouble, but if he does, you know. Just kick his ass.”
Val glanced over at Alastor, who didn’t say anything this time – just blinked his red eyes slowly, that glowing half-moon frozen on his face as he returned Val’s gaze.
“Kick his ass for me, Val. Babysit him for me, Val. Let me fuck you in front of him, Val, and destroy your things and belittle you and leave you to do meaningless bullshit in the middle of the night for the company we all own, but that only I ever take credit for.”
What do you think, mon cher?
Does that sound fair to you?
No. I didn’t think so.
“Sure,” Val said to Vox’s back. “Whatever you say, babe.”