Chapter Text
When Vox heard the unexpected knock at his door in the middle of the night, he certainly hadn’t anticipated seeing Alastor on the other side. The usually composed Radio Demon now stood in front of him, looking disheveled and lost, a shadow of his usual self. Dark circles framed his eyes, deep and hollow, the unmistakable mark of sleepless nights. Vox didn't need to ask why Alastor had come.
“Come in, my dear,” Vox chuckled, his tone warm but laced with subtle amusement. His curiosity piqued, he gently guided Alastor through the hallways of his penthouse, the soft hum of technology surrounding them. As they approached his bedroom, Vox couldn’t help but wonder how Alastor had made it past his security without so much as a blip on his system.
"You look utterly exhausted. Have you not been sleeping?" Vox asked, casting a sideways glance at his rival, though there was a hint of genuine concern beneath his usual playful demeanor.
Alastor barely responded, his gaze unfocused and heavy-lidded. "Vox...?" he murmured, his voice distant and thick with fatigue, as if he wasn’t even fully aware of where he was. He swayed slightly on his feet, his exhaustion so profound that he leaned heavily on Vox for support as they made their way to the bed.
"...Can't sleep..." Alastor mumbled, collapsing onto the edge of the bed. His hands trembled as he buried his face in them, shoulders hunched in defeat. He looked dangerously close to breaking, the weight of his sleeplessness pressing down on him.
Vox studied him for a moment, realization dawning. Alastor must have been truly desperate to come to his rival for help…
He placed a hand gently on Alastor’s shoulder, the touch unexpectedly tender for someone usually so calculating. He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sight of Alastor in such a vulnerable state, utterly drained and fragile.
“You came to me for help?” Vox's voice held a note of disbelief, a single eyebrow rising. “Now that’s... unexpected.”
His crimson eyes watched Alastor, scanning him with more than just curiosity. He noticed the tremor in Alastor’s hands, the shallow rise and fall of his chest as if even breathing was a struggle. "How long has it been since you last slept?" Vox asked, his tone shifting to something more serious. "You look more like a zombie than a demon."
Alastor took a shuddering breath, his whole body shaking as though even staying upright required every ounce of energy he had left. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hands, but his eyes remained fixed ahead, unfocused and desperate.
"I... I didn’t know where else to go," Alastor whispered, his voice so low it barely rose above the soft hum of technology filling Vox’s sleek bedroom. "I didn’t know who else to turn to..."
For a moment, Vox’s usual smug expression faltered. His smirk faded, replaced by something that looked almost like concern. Seeing Alastor like this—so far removed from the powerful, charismatic figure he usually was—left Vox unsettled in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Damn, how bad off are you that you’d come to me for help?” Vox chuckled, the sound low and teasing as he sat down on the bed beside Alastor. He crossed his legs casually, but his eyes flicked back to the Radio Demon. “You were the last person I expected to show up at my door. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
"It has been weeks!" Alastor's voice cracked, a desperate whine that shattered whatever composure he had left. His eyes welled with tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. All the carefully constructed walls he’d kept up—the unshakeable pride, the Radio Demon persona—crumbled beneath the weight of his exhaustion. Weeks of stress had taken their toll, and now, with no energy left to maintain his facade, it all came crashing down.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Vox raised his hands, startled by the sudden outburst. He wasn’t used to seeing Alastor so vulnerable, so completely unraveled. Hesitating for a moment, he placed a reassuring hand on Alastor’s back, patting him gently in an attempt to comfort him. This wasn’t the proud, suave Radio Demon he knew. This was someone at their breaking point.
"You’ve been up for weeks?" Vox’s eyes widened as the gravity of Alastor’s situation hit him. “No wonder you look like hell. You need sleep, my dear.”
"I’ve tried everything!" Alastor sobbed, the words tumbling out in a broken rush as his emotional dam finally burst. Without warning, he leaned over, collapsing against Vox’s side. He buried his face into Vox’s shoulder, tears soaking into the fabric of his jacket as his body trembled with quiet sobs. There was no fight left in him, no sharp quip or sarcastic remark—just raw exhaustion and despair.
"I can’t take it anymore, Vox... I just can’t..." Alastor’s voice was barely a whisper now, broken and fragile.
Vox’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as Alastor collapsed against him. For a moment, Vox hesitated, unaccustomed to such vulnerability. But instinctively, his arms wrapped around the trembling figure, pulling him into a gentle embrace. Alastor’s whole body shook with fatigue, and Vox could feel the intensity of it against his own.
“Easy, easy,” Vox murmured softly, his voice a rare blend of gentleness and care. The usual mocking edge was gone, replaced by something uncharacteristically soothing. “You just need to rest, Alastor. If you keep going like this, you’re gonna burn yourself out.”
Alastor’s breath hitched as another sob escaped him, his grip tightening on Vox’s shirt. "I'll do anything," he rasped desperately, the words broken between sobs. "You can have my mind, my contracts... anything . Just... make it stop..." The plea was raw, unguarded, and unlike anything Vox had ever expected to hear from him.
Vox’s gaze softened, studying Alastor as he clung to him. For a brief moment, he saw past the facade of the feared Radio Demon—the power, the charisma—and saw someone utterly drained and broken, willing to give up anything just for a moment of peace.
Vox’s lips twitched in a faint smile, though it never fully formed. He tightened his hold around Alastor, his hand gently stroking the other demon’s back in what appeared to be a comforting gesture. But there was something in the way he held him—possessive, almost as if, in that moment, Alastor wasn’t just a rival seeking help, but something else. Something Vox might keep.
“Hey, hey,” He murmured, his voice dropping into a low rumble. “You don’t need to barter your mind, soul, or contracts. You just need to rest, my dear.”
He pulled Alastor closer to his chest, his grip tightening in a way that felt more protective than before. Beneath that tenderness was a flicker of something else, something possessive.
"You... you have to ..." Alastor whined, his words slurring together as exhaustion clouded his thoughts. He was barely aware of what he was saying. "What I’m asking for... only you can provide..." His voice trembled, almost breaking.
“Shhh, calm down,” Vox urged, continuing to stroke Alastor’s back in slow, steady movements. The sight of the once powerful Radio Demon reduced to this state stirred something in Vox. “Just let me take control for a little bit, alright?”
Alastor, too drained to resist, nodded weakly, barely understanding the weight of his agreement.
Vox held Alastor impossibly closer, his embrace protective. There was no hesitation in his actions now—Alastor needed relief, and Vox was more than willing to provide it. Leaning closer, he whispered in Alastor's ear, his voice rich and honeyed. “You're right, dear... I do need something from you.”
Vox tilted Alastor’s face upward, his red eye swirling hypnotically, locking Alastor in place.
“I need you to submit.”
Alastor gasped, immediately going still as his gaze was caught by the mesmerizing red and black spirals. His jaw slackened, eyes glazing over and completely silent as the force of Vox’s magic overtook him. In that moment, all the frantic thoughts that had once raced through his mind stilled. His body, his will, froze as the unexpected power seeped into him.
Vox smirked, satisfied as he watched the transformation. The once formidable Radio Demon was now at his mercy. With a slow, deliberate motion, Vox traced his claws gently along Alastor’s cheek—commanding, yet tender.
“Relax for me,” he murmured, a dark promise lingering beneath his words.
Vox's voice was like a soothing lullaby, pulling Alastor deeper under his spell. Alastor's body obeyed the command eagerly, relaxing into Vox’s embrace. His gaze remained locked on the spiraling red and black of Vox’s captivating eye, his own lids growing heavier with each passing second.
"You're so very tired of holding everything together... of being strong all the time..." Vox’s words wove through the air like silk, wrapping around Alastor’s exhausted mind.
The deer demon’s lashes fluttered, betraying just how deeply the words resonated. He was tired. So, so tired. Vox was right—giving up control felt like a blissful release. All he wanted was to surrender, to finally sleep...
Vox’s touch, soft and deliberate, traced gentle paths through Alastor’s hair and along his face.
"Yes, that’s it, dear... Relax. You don’t need to think anymore, not when all you need to do is just listen."
Vox’s voice flowed like a gentle stream, washing away the strain and tension in Alastor’s muscles. Though a small, confused whine escaped his lips, his subconscious had already taken over. Thoughts melted away like butter under the warmth of Vox’s words. The only thing left to do was trust Vox, listen, and sink into the comforting silence.
His body further relaxed in Vox’s arms, as he continued to stare up into the mesmerizing abyss of swirling red and black.
Vox smirked as he watched Alastor sink deeper into his trance, now pliant and malleable under his influence.
"Now, keep looking at my eye, Al... Just keep staring at that spiral," Vox murmured, his tone laced with subtle command. "It’s so enticing, isn’t it? You can’t tear your eyes away..."
Leaning in close, his lips nearly brushing Alastor’s ear, Vox's voice became a soft, seductive coo. "Just listen... and let go , Alastor..."
Those two words had Alastor’s eyes rolling back as his mind dropped into the depths of emptiness. He was no longer thinking, merely existing, completely vulnerable. After a long moment, his gaze returned to the spiraling red and black, eager than ever to remain mesmerized.
There was no doubt now—Alastor was deep.
Vox’s smirk widened, his satisfaction growing as Alastor’s body became utterly limp in his grasp. The proud, powerful demon was completely at Vox’s mercy, his will all but surrendered to the hypnotic magic.
"That’s it, Al, deeper and deeper now," Vox murmured, his voice smooth as velvet, coaxing Alastor further into submission. With a gentle motion, he pulled Alastor into his lap, cradling the smaller demon in his arms.
"... deep ...er..." Alastor echoed mindlessly, his voice heavy and slurred, completely devoid of thought. He didn’t even register the shift, nor did he notice being in Vox’s arms. All that mattered was the spiral pulling him in.
Vox watched with a dark satisfaction as Alastor’s lids drooped, lashes falling over glassy eyes. The Radio Demon was utterly lost to the trance, his mind slipping further away with every word.
A deep chuckle rumbled in Vox’s chest as he ran his fingers through Alastor’s hair, the gesture almost affectionate. "Yes... you're so tired, aren’t you? So very sleepy..." he teased, his tone laced with amusement. "You've been trying so hard to stay strong, haven’t you, dear?"
"...yes..." Alastor murmured, a soft whine accompanying the word. There was no filter left, no mask to hide behind.
Vox’s arms tightened slightly around him, the touch both tender and possessive as he continued to soothe the mindless demon. He hummed softly, stroking Alastor’s hair with a careful hand.
"You’ve been holding yourself together for so long, Al... But it’s okay to be tired... to be exhausted," Vox cooed, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "It’s okay to need help sometimes..."
His words washed over Alastor, lulling him deeper. Alastor’s eyelids fluttered again, growing heavier with each passing second. The spiral still called to him, but keeping his gaze locked on it was becoming an impossible task. Sleep tugged at him, and Vox’s voice offered a strange, comforting sense of release.
Vox grinned victoriously as he watched Alastor struggle to keep his eyes open, desperately trying to focus on the swirling spiral despite the weight of his exhaustion.
"Shhh," Vox whispered, his voice like velvet. "It’s okay... close your eyes. You can rest now. I’ll take care of everything." His fingers continued to thread gently through Alastor's hair. "You don’t have to be strong anymore... Just focus on my voice, on my words..."
His permission seemed to be the final push Alastor needed. His eyelids drooped even further, the vibrant red of his eyes barely visible as he hovered on the edge of sleep. He made a small noise, a faint, subconscious plea for reassurance, as if asking whether it was truly safe to let go.
Vox chuckled quietly at the sight of the helpless demon in his arms.
"Sleep, Alastor..." Vox commanded softly, his voice firm but deceptively comforting. "Deep sleep now... Let go of all that stress, all that exhaustion... and let me take care of everything."
With a final deep sigh, Alastor surrendered completely, sinking into the comforting darkness of sleep. His eyes fluttered shut as a soft sound escaped his lips. He was already dreaming, fully relaxed in Vox's embrace.
Vox’s smile deepened as Alastor’s body went slack, completely limp in his arms. “There you go, Al. There you go…” he cooed, the affection in his tone masking the underlying triumph. He cradled Alastor closer, adjusting the Radio Demon so his head rested against his chest, the grip shifting from protective to something more... possessive.
“You were utterly exhausted, Alastor... roaming around Hell in such a state was incredibly dangerous. Who knows what demon might have found you like this…” His voice trailed off, the implication hanging heavily in the air.
Settling back against the headboard, Vox pulled Alastor even closer. His screen dimmed as he slipped into low-power mode, though his mind remained active, plotting. He had Alastor right where he wanted him—helpless and drained.
A slow, satisfied breath escaped him as his hold tightened. He’d be sure to take care of Alastor... in his own way. And there was no need for Alastor to know just how deep that care would go.