Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Those annoying losers were up to something! That was the only explanation Vox could come up with as he tailed Alastor and Adam, the alleged “first man.” Sure, that behemoth of a freak had the same face as Adam, and maybe the guy’s voice matched Adam’s perfectly, but that would mean that the former leader of the exorcists was a sinner now, and a dragon one too! How extra did one have to be to become a dragon sinner?

Not that Vox cared. Not at all! Who cared what had happened to that asshole? 

It couldn’t be Adam though, because there was no way Alastor would associate with the guy. Not only had Adam thoroughly kicked Alastor’s ass months ago, Adam was what Alastor would call “repugnant.” 

So the dragon sinner with his hand resting on the cradle of Alastor’s back couldn’t be Adam. Alastor would never let Adam touch him so casually. He wouldn’t be inches from having his side brush against Adam’s as they chatted with the host of Get Stuffed —a ripoff of that fancy restaurant in the Lust Ring called Ozzie’s . 

The host pulled two menus out from his podium and gathered the menus into his arms. With a smile, the host spoke and gestured for Alastor and Not-Adam to follow him inside. 

Panic spiked in Vox’s chest! Moving faster than his brain could process his actions, Vox leaped out from behind the trashcan he’d been hiding behind and dashed toward the entrance. He had to get in there and take a seat before—

A short piece of shit in a white coat slammed into Vox. 

“Shit!” Vox screeched as he pinwheeled his arms to keep himself from falling. It was like he’d gotten hit by a delivery truck. Sparks of blue electricity shot off his fingertips, shocking the shorty.

Or it should have. 

The blond short stack froze as the electricity rolled over his shoulders and disappeared. He blinked through the—

Holy shit!

Vox regained his balance as realization hit him harder than shorty had. The little fucker wasn’t just any sinner! He wasn’t a sinner at all! Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, and fallen angel had rammed into Vox. No wonder shorty had almost knocked Vox off his feet—he was packing more strength in his pinkie than most sinners had in their body. 

“Golly! I didn’t see you there! Must need a new prescription.” Lucifer chuckled nervously as he adjusted the plastic glasses on his face. 

The plastic glasses. 

The plastic glasses with a fake human nose, bushy brows, and mustache. 

…

Vox didn’t know how, but somehow this was all Alastor’s fault.  

“Welp! If anything broke, you should be fine soon. I’m kinda in a hurry, so-” Lucifer moved to take a step inside Get Stuffed . 

Indignation flared within Vox. He snatched Lucifer by the elbow and yanked. “Hey! You don’t get to-” 

Lucifer took a step forward, unperturbed by Vox as Vox stumbled into his back. Lucifer’s head knocked into Vox’s stomach, and Vox doubled over, bending over Lucifer’s head. 

Lucifer stopped and stared at Vox. Lucifer’s lips curled back in an expression that revealed his teeth and displayed his annoyance. “You mind staying in your own personal space, buddy?” 

Vox bit back the snappy response that rushed to the tip of his tongue. Anger surged through him at the disrespect. Lucifer might have the power to wipe out all sinners, but Vox had the power to control all of them. He was more of a king than Lucifer was. However, power was still power, and Lucifer could blow Vox to bits if he desired. 

So best for Vox to think of this as a business opportunity and to work his way up the food chain by gaining favor with the bigwig. 

Vox straightened and displayed the biggest grin. “It sounds like you and I have a lot in common! I’m in a hurry too.” 

“Do you two have a reservation?” The baritone voice of the host interrupted Vox and Lucifer. The guy flipped the page in his reservation book.

A book? Seriously? Did these idiots not know computers were superior?

Lucifer hunched forward and wheezed. He clutched his stomach as his shoulders shook. 

Was he laughing? 

“Us? Together?” Lucifer wheezed more. 

Vox fought off his urge to sneer. 

“Oh?” The host quirked an eyebrow in intrigue. He shut the reservation book. “Then I cannot help you.” 

“That’s fine.” Lucifer cleared his throat and took a step forward. “I’ll just mosey on in-”

The host side-stepped out from behind the podium and in front of Lucifer. “Couples only, sir.” 

“Couples what?” Lucifer asked. 

“Couples only, sir,” the host repeated. 

“Hey, now, that’s highly discriminatory.” 

“Take it up with management. You can call them at one-eight-hundred-don’t-give-a-fuck.” 

“Oh ho ho! We got a wise guy!” A sharp, predatory grin spread across Lucifer’s face. It would have been intimidating if not for the stupid glasses he was wearing. Lucifer stood on his tiptoes as he stepped into the host’s space to smile up at the man. “How about I show you who’s boss?”

Vox scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Who do you think you are? The King of Hell?” 

Lucifer’s grin dropped as Vox’s words struck him. 

Good. The king wasn’t an idiot and could pick up on subtle cues. 

As Lucifer backed out of the host’s space, Vox took the spot by Lucifer’s side. He bent down and grabbed Lucifer’s hand. Lucifer jolted in surprise at his touch, but Vox ignored it for the shared enemy in front of them. “Stop fighting for righteous causes that don’t affect you, honey,” Vox aimed at Lucifer, then shifted his attention to the host. “We’ll take a table for two.” 

The host’s nose wrinkled in distaste. However, he slid back to his podium and opened his reservation book. He hemmed and hawed as he scanned the pages. “I suppose I have a table available.” He yanked a few menus out from his podium and tucked them under his arm. 

The host pivoted and strolled through the entrance. “Follow me.” 

Vox maintained his hold on Lucifer’s hand as they followed the host. He waited for the moment Lucifer would yank his hand away from him in protest, but the king never did. Instead, Lucifer beamed like a love struck fool. It almost made Vox nauseous how in love Lucifer appeared. It was like chugging down a pound of sugar with no water afterwards. 

The host led them to a round table for two with chairs that had heart-shaped backs. A small, round lantern in the center of the table bathed the table in a gentle purple light. The host pulled out a chair for either Vox or Lucifer to sit in. Vox released Lucifer’s hand, and Lucifer shuffled into the chair. The host repeated the same motion with Vox before handing Lucifer and Vox their menus. 

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The host didn’t spare Vox and Lucifer another moment. He swiftly left their table like breathing the same air as them would give him an STD. 

Lucifer held up his menu, covering his face. However, just because the menu was hiding Lucifer’s expression didn’t mean that Vox couldn’t see Lucifer’s head turn to scan the room. “Sooooo,” Lucifer said, poorly feigning casualness. “Looks like we’re stuck together.” 

Vox held up his menu and pretended to read it as his systems did a scan of the restaurant for any Voxtech he could use to his advantage. Even just a couple of cameras would give him more angles to search from for Alastor. 

Shock socked him in gut when his scan only picked up on the cell phones nearby. What the fuck? Did Alastor own this restaurant or some shit? Who the fuck ran any sort of business without Voxtech? 

“Not much of a talker, are ya?” Lucifer inquired. Despite asking the question, he sounded disinterested in Vox’s answer. 

Vox set down his menu on the table and wore his best business smile. “Listen, we both wanted into this place for different reasons, and wanted to be discreet about it. This doesn’t have to be more than that. So how about you do your thing, and I do my thing?” 

“Sounds fair,” Lucifer said from behind his menu. 

Good. That’s what-

Lucifer inhaled sharply as his body jolted in surprise. 

Vox followed Lucifer’s gaze. 

Alastor and Not Adam were perpendicular from each other. It looked as if they had originally been across from one another, but over time, they had scooted their chairs closer together. Not Adam leaned across the space between them with his arm extended toward Alastor, offering a buttered slice of bread. Alastor happily bit into the slice. 

Vox was seeing things. Velvette must have uploaded some sort of false imaging program into his system. Alastor was being hand fed by some loser? And he wasn’t eating the loser’s hand?!?! No. It couldn’t be. 

Vox ran a quick diagnostics check, but found no errors in his system. 

Vox slammed his fist on the table. “That bitch!”

Lucifer lowered his menu and side-eyed Vox. Like Vox had done before him, Lucifer followed Vox’s gaze to Alastor and Not Adam’s table. 

Lucifer did a double-take. He pointed at Alastor’s table. “Are you spying on them?” 

Vox scowled. He was too angry to play business. “Aren’t you?” 

Suspicion pinched Lucifer’s brow as he studied Vox. “Why are you spying on them?”

Good question. Very good question. So good, it pierced through Vox’s anger and struck him in the chest. Why was he wasting his time spying on Alastor? Alastor being on a date had nothing to do with him. Good luck and good riddance to the idiot stupid enough to date Alastor. Alastor was probably just using the guy. 

Yeah.

Yeah…

It wasn’t anything more than that.

So why was Vox wasting time that he could use at Voxtech or use fucking Valentino?

“You make a great point.” Vox pushed out his chair and stood. “Have fun watching those two make out.” 

Lucifer’s hand launched at Vox. He seized Vox by the wrist and yanked him back down into his chair. Lucifer then hooked his ankle around the leg of Vox’s seat and tugged the chair back under the table. “You can’t leave. They might kick me out if I you do. Couples only, remember?” 

“So?” Vox arched his brow. “What do I get out of it?” 

“Hey, now, buddy.” Lucifer leaned over and patted Vox consolingly on the shoulder. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. So you’re spying on Alastor and Adam. It’s no big deal. Alastor is used to stalkers.” Lucifer placed a hand over his chest as he laughed. “I hear he has this one guy with a TV for a head, who…” Lucifer glanced at Vox’s TV head. “...oh.” 

Vox clenched the tablecloth in his fist. “I’m not a stalker.” 

Lucifer threw up his hands as if he’d just touched a hot stove. “Of course not.” 

Vox scowled. Lucifer hadn’t sounded sincere at all. “Fine. You want me to stay? Tell me why you are stalking Alastor.” 

“And Adam,” Lucifer corrected. 

Vox’s wires felt like they were getting fried. Alastor’s date sounded like the first man, looked like the first man, and had the first man’s name. Also, Lucifer was stalking Adam. It couldn’t all be a coincidence. “As in the first man?”

“Yup,” Lucifer popped the ‘p’. 

Vox clutched his head and bent over the table. He growled. “Christ! How the fuck did those two hook up? Alastor should despise him.” 

“Ho ho ho! I hear ya, buddy. Both of them are so annoying and arrogant. You would think that it would be too much ego for one room, but nooooo! Somehow those two rude, pompous, violent, unstable, albeit funny, sarcastic, maybe even a little bit witty at times, obsessed with music, questionable with kids but also strangely good at it, and kinda of sexy in a bad boy sort of way—but totally different types of bad-”

Vox placed his palm over Lucifer’s mouth to silence him. “You are such a RomCom. Wait!” Vox yanked his hand off Lucifer. “You were spewing that about both of them ?”

“Yes.”

“As in, you’re obsessed with both of them?”

Lucifer scoffed and waved off Vox’s question. “Obsessed? No. Nooooooo.”

He was one-hundred percent obsessed with Alastor and Adam. 

How pathetic. 

“If you’re not obsessed, then why are you here?” Vox asked. 

“To make sure they aren’t up to anything,” Lucifer stated, like his reasoning was obvious. 

Vox didn’t like that Lucifer’s reasoning sounded like his own. Lucifer sounded so lame when he said it. Did Vox sound just as lame? No. He couldn’t. There was no way. 

He wasn’t that pathetic. 

Lucifer squawked. He lunged at Vox. Vox yelped as Lucifer’s hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him down. Lucifer straddled his lap as he smashed his lips onto Vox’s, muffling all the panicked sounds that erupted from Vox. 

Lucifer shoved his tongue down Vox’s throat, muffling Vox’s sounds further. 

It was one of the worst kisses Vox had ever experienced, and Valentino had once slid his tongue so deep into Vox’s throat, Vox choked on it. 

After several seconds, Lucifer broke the kiss. His plastic glasses sat catty wampus on his face. He adjusted them, then hurriedly glanced over his shoulder. He sighed in relief. “They didn’t spot us.” 

“The fuck?” Vox hissed. 

“Alastor looked our way.” Lucifer fiddled with his glasses. “You really need a disguise, buddy.” 

Vox was not going to take advice from a guy who thought those ridiculous novelty glasses disguised anyone. Vox moved to shove Lucifer off him, but Lucifer was like a brick wall; he didn’t budge. “Get off me. I gotta wash your spit out of my mouth.” 

“Pinkie promise that you’re not going to abandon me.” Lucifer held up his hand with his pinkie extended. 

“Fine.” Vox latched his pinkie around Lucifer’s. 

A spark of gold magic flared around their pinkies then disappeared. 

Shit! Had Vox just made a deal with the devil? 

Lucifer climbed out of Vox’s lap and returned to his chair. He waved Vox away. “Go. Wash the spit out.” He picked up his menu and held it in front of his face again as he watched Alastor and Adam. 

Vox couldn’t bring himself to move. He was stuck processing that he had most likely just made a deal with Lucifer Morningstar. Did the devil realize that they had just made a deal, or did he make them so often that his deal with Vox meant nothing to him? 

Vox pushed out his chair. Slowly, he rose out of his seat. Numbly, he politely tucked his chair under the table, then headed toward the bathroom. 

The bathroom was wannabe fancy and chic, with fake potted plants in the corners, faux marble sinks, and vanity bulbs encircling the mirror. Vox bypassed all that to use a stall. He needed to think, and the more privacy he had, the better. As he locked the stall shut behind him, someone else entered the bathroom and shuffled into the stall farthest away. 

Vox’s processor was overheating as he accessed his memory of his pinkie promise with Lucifer. He replayed the footage in his head, double-checking that he hadn’t imagined the brief spark. 

He hadn’t. 

Fuck. 

He’d traded a chance to go to the bathroom in exchange for him to not abandon Lucifer. The deal was so unspecific that Lucifer could easily take advantage of it. 

Well, there was shit luck that Vox could do about it now. The best he could hope for was that Lucifer either hadn’t noticed the contract forming or cared so little about Vox that he never took advantage of the contract. 

The toilet in the farthest stall flushed, and the person inside it strode over to the sink. The sound of gushing water flowed out of the faucet.   

Vox finished his business, flushed his toilet and stepped out of the stall. 

Adam, with his stupid black horns that looked like they came straight off of his exorcist helmet and his stupid dragon-like wings wrapped around his dad bod waist, was hunched over the sink with his robe-clad ass sticking out like he wanted someone to walk by and smack it. Christ, it was thick, and it was thrust out right in front of Vox. There was barely any space between him and-

“Unless we’re gonna fuck, stop staring at my ass, flat face.” Adam’s reflection peered at Vox through the mirror as he finished washing his hands.

Vox reared back, his spine bumping into the stall door. “Ha! As if I would stare at your fat ass!”

Adam waved his hands, shaking off droplets of water. He shuffled over to the hand dryer, which rumbled to life at his approach. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, chubby chaser.” 

Vox bit down the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. Arguing with this asshole would make him look like he was in denial and would only fuel Adam’s ego. Vox let out an annoyed sound through his teeth, but otherwise ignored Adam as he took the man’s spot at the sink to wash his hands. The only sound between them was the whine of the hand dryer.

Eventually, Adam finished drying his hands, and he scurried out of the bathroom. 

Vox took his time washing his hands as a knot formed in his chest and a bitter taste coated his tongue. What could Alastor possibly see in that guy? Was Alastor a chubby chaser? 

Vox stared at his trimmed waist in the mirror. There were parts of his body that he was insecure about, but they had never been his waistline. He’d always thought of himself as shapely with his broad shoulders and slender stomach. He wasn’t made up of hard muscles, but he wasn’t exactly soft either. Was it that softness that Alastor desired? Someone who felt good to hold? 

Vox shook his head. He was doing it again—wasting his thoughts and time on Alastor. 

Vox dried his hands and departed the bathroom. From across the restaurant, he spotted Lucifer nibbling on a slice of bread. A bread basket had been delivered to the table while Vox had been in the bathroom. 

Vox trudged over to the table and reclaimed his seat. He took a slice out of the basket to keep his hands and mouth occupied while he watched Alastor laugh at something Adam said a few tables over. The bread was extra dry in his mouth. 

A genuine smile curled Alastor’s lips as Adam leaned into Alastor’s space, their shoulders bumping as Adam whispered in his ear. Alastor took Adam’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers together as he said something inaudible to Adam. Adam brought their interlaced fingers to his lips and kissed Alastor’s knuckles. 

Lucifer clutched the menu tight. “They seem happy,” he said in a clipped tone. 

“Yeah,” Vox said, his insides feeling rubbed raw from the admission. 

“So you and Alastor…” Lucifer not so subtly glanced at Vox from the corner of his eye, gauging Vox’s reaction. “... exes?” 

Vox scoffed. “Please, as if. That guy doesn’t do…” Realization wrapped around Vox’s heart like an anchor and sank it. “... relationships.” Yet somehow, Alastor was in one. 

Lucifer nodded, taking Vox’s reasoning as fact. His features softened into a remorseful expression as he looked down at the menu to avoid watching Alastor and Adam. “Adam isn’t attracted to men.” 

Vox chuckled bitterly. “Funny how things work out, right?” 

“Yeah,” Lucifer said wistfully. His gaze rose from the menu to land on Adam and Alastor. 

Adam pecked Alastor on the cheek. 

Lucifer sighed and dropped his menu on the table. He smiled at Vox. “Wanna order a bottle of wine?” 

Wine sounded divine. “As long as you’re paying.” He couldn’t leave until Lucifer did, so the least Lucifer could do was buy him a drink. 

“It’s a deal.” Lucifer thrust his arm up and hailed the server. 

Chapter Text

Shivers wracked Vox’s body as he scratched at his wrist. His pinkie felt especially irritating. He wanted to gnaw on it, sink his sharp teeth into the digit and thrash his teeth about until he’d scraped the itching sensation out of his pinkie. His body was hot and festering with what felt like rashes, yet his skin was the same shades of blue and not an angry red. 

He’d rubbed lotion all over his body, hoping against logic that his skin was just dry. He slathered himself in it until he was more lubed up than a cock ready for an orgy. 

Yet he still itched. 

Vox growled to himself as he hunched in front of his control booth and waited for his computers to finish running their diagnostics on him. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew in his gut that the scans would show nothing. However, he needed to be thorough. If there was any chance that Val had given him an STD, or he’d caught the Hell Flu, then he needed to know. They were better than the alternative. 

Vox scowled down at his pinkie—the same pinkie that he’d hooked around Lucifer’s and used to make a deal with the devil.

Every soul contract was different, and details could vary depending on the parties involved in the contract and what was being exchanged. There was the very real possibility that if Lucifer wanted Vox by his side, he could summon the metaphysical chain connecting them and literally drag Vox through Hell to be with him. 

Or, if Lucifer wanted to be more subtle, perhaps he could use that connection to make Vox so physically ill that Vox would be coerced into visiting Lucifer to make the symptoms go away. Anything was possible when the devil was involved. 

One of the dozens of monitors lit up with a chime and the results of Vox’s scan. 

No anomalies found. 

Vox scowled. He rubbed his wrist. 

He wanted there to be another explanation for why his body was behaving so strangely, but he couldn’t think of anything. He’d had one of his bots scan his room for itching powder or other substances that could irritate his skin, but the bot had found none. Vox had replayed scenes of places he had visited in the last few days since bumping into Lucifer to recall if he might have touched something that would cause this reaction. There were none. 

Dread weighed heavily inside Vox’s stomach. 

Vox wasn’t able to soak in his trepidation for long. A call from Velvette came directly through his internal system with a notification appearing on his face monitor for all the world to see. Vox answered the call. 

“Lover boy is being a little bitch again,” Velvette said without preamble. “Fix it or I’ll fix him. I’m sure his little whores wouldn’t mind him missing his balls for a couple of days.” 

Vox’s fingers went to his screen to pinch his non-existent nose. Decades of living in Hell hadn’t broken him of the old habit. “Kinda busy here, Vel.” 

“Oh? Are you the one who is currently running multiple social media campaigns to promote products for Voxtech? Are you the one who makes working for us look like a glamorous gig and is getting us hundreds of new employees every day?” 

“And whose name and company gets you the prestige you need to set yourself apart from all the other influencers in Hell?” Vox countered. 

Velvette scoffed. “Just fucking handle it or I will.” 

Velvette hung up. 

Electricity sparked between Vox’s fingers. Demanding prick. 

Vox took a deep breath to calm his anger. Flying off the handle would not help. He’d deal with Val then-

The hot prickling sensation increased in Vox’s hands. It was like someone was jabbing him with a steel brush that had been shoved into a furnace. “Motherfucker!” Vox snapped. He thrust his hand toward his mouth and gnawed on it, scraping his teeth roughly against the skin without breaking it. No matter how much he rubbed and nipped, he couldn’t get rid of the irritating sensation. 

Fuck Val and Vel. They could deal with whatever bitch fit they were having on their own. 

Vox texted his driver as he unhooked himself from his computers. Vox gave the back of his hand one last good scrape against his teeth, then shoved his hand into his pocket. His shoulders bunched together as he wrestled with himself. He couldn’t let anyone see him scratch or bite himself like some flea-ridden dog.

Vox rode the elevator downstairs to the lobby and marched out of V Tower. His town car was waiting for him at the curb. Vox elbowed some idiot into the gutter who had walked by as Vox made his way to the car. Vox ignored the idiot’s angry shouts as he slid into the back seat of the car. 

“Hazbin Hotel,” Vox ordered. He gripped his knees and squeezed. 

His driver nodded and pulled away from the curb.

Vox jabbed the button to raise the partition separating him from the driver. Vox furiously clawed at his hand once the blackout window was closed. He swore that if this ridiculous itching crisis was unrelated to Lucifer, he would violently murder someone. 

After a few minutes of driving, the hot prickling sensation mellowed out. His hand still felt like it had a rash, but the pinpricks of pain that occupied it had receded. Vox huffed. He held up his hand, examining it. Any blemishes resulted from his own scratching. Apart from that, it was identical to how it had been prior to his skin itching. 

However, the longer Vox was in the car, the closer he got to the hotel, and the less his body itched. Soon, even the rash-like sensation had subsided to just his hand. Vox would have sighed in relief if he didn’t know what that meant. 

Lucifer was summoning him. 

Frustration, anger, confusion and anxiety boiled inside of Vox. He closed his eyes, lounged back in his seat, and let the emotions hit him—let them hit as hard as they could. He could bitch and whine right now, but the moment he set foot outside the car, he was on. The princess and her pack of losers wouldn’t see him panic, and Lucifer would only see the perfect little minion that he wanted. 

He didn’t know if it was better or worse that Lucifer had a claim on him instead of someone else. On the one hand, Lucifer was the strongest being in Hell. No one could rival him in terms of sheer power. So being on Lucifer’s chain was far less embarrassing than if it were Zestial or Alastor. 

However, Lucifer was still the fucking devil, and Vox didn’t want to be on anyone’s chain. 

The town car pulled up to the entrance of the Hazbin Hotel. 

“Fucking loser ass bitches,” Vox grumbled. “Should fucking burn this place to the ground. Fucking fuck!” Vox punched the car’s ceiling. “Ow! Bitch!” He clutched his hand to his chest. He rubbed it tenderly. 

Only his pinkie finger itched. 

Vox sucked in a deep breath, drawing in all his emotions, then slamming them into a trunk that he locked and threw into the ocean. Vox put on his best smile, opened the door, and stepped out of the car. 

The hotel’s marquee was underwhelming. Despite it being recently built, it reeked of old-age and terrible taste. 

Vox strode confidently up to the front doors and pushed them open. 

And an even uglier lobby with a worse looking bar greeted him. The wallpaper was tacky. The floor closest to the bar had dark stains. The furniture was deceptively plush in appearance, but Vox had sat in enough old furniture to recognize that the sofa and chairs were all shape and no comfort.   

Husk, the pathetic loser, who lost his soul to Alastor in a bet, scowled at Vox from behind the bar. Vox paid him no mind—Husk was a waste of air. The man had amassed great power and had never known what to do with it. The man had no balls or ambition. He was just seeking temporary thrills to get him through his existence. 

No wonder he and Angel had been cozying up to each other. They were the same suit in different colors. 

“V-Vox!” Little Princess Morningstar leaped off the sofa, a pile of… oh fucking christ! Crayon drawings? The princess was still on that shit? Hadn’t someone introduced her to markers yet? 

“Oh. Wow! I never thought…” Charlie wrung her hands, paused, went wide eyed, winced, then rubbed the back of her neck. “Not that I never thought. I mean…” Charlie tapped her fingers together. She laughed nervously. 

“Chill, babe.” Vaggie, the princess’s forever frowning shadow, stood behind her. She placed a soothing hand on Charlie’s back, then shot a pathetic warning glare at Vox. 

Pathetic, not because the bitch couldn’t fight—she had proven she could fight with the best of them during the battle between Heaven and Hell—pathetic because she wouldn’t do anything unless Charlie let her off her leash. The princess was too much of a pushover to do that for anything less than a righteous cause. 

“Right!” Charlie pushed her shoulders back and slapped a smile on. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Charlie gestured at the lobby. “Will you be staying with us?”

“A little too chill, babe.” Vaggie tugged on Charlie’s arm, encouraging her girlfriend to lean down. Vaggie craned her neck and whispered to Charlie. “Remember, this guy works with Valentino and is enemies with Alastor.” 

At Alastor’s name, Vox flicked his gaze across the room, double-checking the shadows. His attention landed on an antique radio in the living room. 

Alastor knew he was here. He could listen in on the conversation via the radio. Alastor was biding his time and letting the princess pick Vox for information on his behalf. 

“Relax, you two.” Vox chuckled just a tad, infusing a teasing note to his voice to wear down Charlie and Vaggie’s defenses. He puffed out his chest and subtly shifted his posture, so he took up more space. “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m here because the big boss man himself called me here.” 

Befuddlement furrowed Charlie’s brow. “My dad?”

“The one and only,” Vox answered with cheer. “At least the only one we know about.”

“My dad has your number?” Surprise overtook Charlie’s expression. She hurriedly shook it off. “I mean, I didn’t realize you two were close. He doesn’t really like television. ‘Rots the brain,’ he says.” Charlie twirled her finger around the side of her head, miming what Vox assumed was a brain rotting. 

Vox snorted in amusement. “Sounds like Alastor.” 

Vox checked the room again. That was the perfect setup for Alastor to make a dramatic entrance. 

Alastor didn’t take the bait. 

For a moment, Vox doubted that Alastor was listening in through the radio. He pushed aside that doubt. Alastor might enjoy an entertaining show or a heated tête-à-tête that went back and forth like a tennis match, but he also knew how to play the long game. 

“So why did my dad call you here?” Charlie asked, her nerves seeping into her voice. 

That just wouldn’t do. The more at ease she was, the fewer questions she would ask. Vox kept up his positive demeanor, hoping to chase away her worries. “You know, he didn’t say.” Vox tapped his chin and hummed thoughtfully before turning on a megawatt smile. “But he’s the king, so who am I to question him? Maybe he wants Voxtech to help refurbish LuLu World? With our tech, we could take LuLu World to the next level. Just think, with an app you could reserve your spot in line instead of waiting. If people aren’t waiting in line, that means they’ll walk around the park more, go into shops more, and spend more money! It’s a win-win for the guests and your father.” 

“That sounds really nice and all, but maybe you should save your pitch for my dad.” Charlie threw a worried glance at the elevators, then at Vox. “You’re sure he wanted to meet today? He’s just been really busy lately, and-”

“Do you really believe this fucker got a call from your dad?” Husk interrupted, his permanent scowl stretched across his haggard, furry face. “He’s probably lying.”

Ah, yes. Husk. Alastor’s backup eyes, ears, and mouth. Even more proof that Alastor was listening in. If it wasn’t through the radio, then it was through Husk.

Vox chuckled. “You are the former gambling overlord. Tell me, Husk, do I look like I’m lying?”

“You’re bluffing,” Husk stated. 

“Not every bluff is a lie,” Vox countered. Bluffing was a mind game that required the perfect balance of truth and lies to keep your opponent on their toes, never certain of what hand you held. “Like I said, I don’t know why he wants me here, but I know I’ve got the goods to give him what he wants.” 

Husk scowled, a tiny growl coming from his throat. 

Vox smirked. Husk was so fun to rile up.

“Husk might be right,” Vaggie said to Charlie. 

Seriously, did the princess’s girlfriend really think that Vox couldn’t hear her? 

Charlie withdrew her cell phone out of her pocket. She bit her bottom lip as she tapped on the screen. “Let me see if I can get him to answer…” A dial tone poured out of the phone’s speaker. 

The tone continued.

Continued. 

And contin-

“Is it recording?” Lucifer’s voice came over the line. He cleared his throat. “Heeeeey, it’s Lucifer. I’m a bit busy. Leave me a message. …Okay. I think that’s good.” The phone beeped. 

It took all of Vox’s willpower not to grimace at the horrendous outgoing message. 

“Hey, Dad. I’ll try texting you too, but uh… Vox, the President of Voxtech, he’s here. He said you called him. I know you have been very busy, but please call or text me back.” Charlie hung up. Her fingers tapped rapidly on the screen as she sent off a text to her dad, too. “There. Sometimes text is better with him. You never know.” 

Charlie offered a smile tinged with remorse. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help. My dad sometimes gets into these creative moods, and when he does, he shuts everyone out.” 

“Strange how he’s in one of these moods, yet he called Vox.” Husk stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest.

Vox laughed. “Obviously, he called me. I’m one of the most creative demons in the pride ring. Look at my company! Just because I don’t use a paintbrush doesn’t mean I’m not creative. Hell, I’m innovative. If Lucifer has got a big project in mind, then I’m his best choice to partner with.”

“Vox has a point,” Charlie said. “But if my dad doesn’t answer, then I don’t feel comfortable letting you visit him.” 

Which meant Vox would go back to feeling like he was being attacked by an army of fleas. It had taken a couple of days for the prickling sensation to get as bad as it did. He might be able to work for a couple of days with the itching being minimal, then come back when it increased again. 

Or maybe his symptoms would go back to how they were minutes ago? 

Vox couldn’t risk looking like an idiot and coming back here an hour or two later. Only his pinkie was itching right now, and that was because he was in the hotel. There really only was one option that let him keep his dignity. “Fine. I’ll wait.” 

Vox marched over to the sofa and took a seat with his legs spread wide. He grunted at the stiffness of the cushions. He glanced over at the antique radio and smirked. 

Let’s see how long Alastor would ignore him now. 

Chapter Text

Alastor was ignoring Vox. 

Annoyance prickled under Vox’s collar. He’d relinquished his seat on the sofa and taken refuge on a stool at the bar after twenty minutes of the princess’s attempts at small talk. If he was going to have to listen to her natter on about the weather or compliment his clothes while her girlfriend gave him the stink eye, then he was going to at least have a glass of brandy in his hand. 

Vox was on his fourth glass of brandy, and Charlie Morningstar was currently holding up a drawing of the hotel. Her artistic vision included a bunch of rainbows and stars, and standing hand in hand in front of the hotel were sketches of Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Adam, and Niffty. She happily gesticulated as she described the mission she had for the hotel—a mission that Vox had heard several times now. 

Vox smiled and nodded, but inside his organic material festered from annoyance. His patience shriveled with every second Charlie spoke. No one had ever taught this bitch about an elevator pitch. 

If the situation were different, he’d have walked away from Charlie an hour ago. Instead, he had to resort to subtle insults and dismissals that Husk and Vaggie glowered at him for, but that went over the princess’s head. Vaggie would most likely point out his jabs to Charlie later. However, the goody-two shoes would brush it off as a misunderstanding. People like her always did.

Charlie slapped her palms and her drawings onto the bar. She shoved her face into Vox’s, stopping an inch short of their heads touching. Excitement glittered in her eyes like she was a fucking anime character. “So what do you think?” she asked. 

Idiotic, unproductive, and wasteful were just a few of the word that came to Vox’s mind regarding Charlie’s project. “Very ambitious, Princess.”

“But so worth it!” Charlie sprung away from Vox and twirled around, her arm thrust outward as if giving a speech to a crowd. “Just think of all the good we could do, and just how much happier people will be.” She lowered her arm, curling it against her chest as her hand formed a fist. “I can do this ,” she sang. “I just know it. I will- ”

Vaggie thrust her hand over Charlie’s mouth. “Babe, I don’t think now is the time for a song.” 

“You already woke everyone up this morning singing about breakfast,” Husk chimed in. 

Charlie’s shoulders jumped to her ears in embarrassment. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Charlie sheepishly countered. 

Husk huffed. “And some of us work until dawn.”

Charlie winced. “I really should apologize to Angel for waking him up.” 

“Hey, it’s the guy who checked out my ass,” Adam’s voice cut through the conversation as he waltzed through the front door like he lived there, which he probably did. What a fucking loser. Guy not only got his ass handed to him by Lucifer and Alastor’s maid, but he got kicked down to hell and needed to live off his enemy’s generosity to survive.

An insult came to the tip of Vox’s tongue, but stalled inside his mouth.

Adam hadn’t entered the hotel alone. Alastor was with him, and they were holding hands.

Adam was holding hands with Alastor. 

Holding hands. 

Vox’s processors worked overtime as his vision zeroed in on Adam and Alastor’s intertwined fingers. Alastor wasn’t even stabbing his nails into Adam’s flesh or crushing Adam’s bones in some sort of punishment disguised as intimacy. Their fingers were interlaced and their palms were touching like they actually liked each other. Alastor, who was so picky about people touching him, was perfectly content holding Adam’s hand like they were some… some… some… COUPLE!

Alastor thoughtfully hummed as his gaze lazily roved over Vox. There wasn’t an ounce of tension in his posture as he drank in the sight of his nemesis sitting in his home. 

Alastor should be furious. He should use his shadow magic to leap into Vox’s space and get in his face. He should-

“I told you it was Vox, dear.” Alastor smiled at Adam and shrugged. “Subtly has never been his style.” 

Shock socked Vox in the stomach, but he refused to be knocked down. He pushed against his surprise and funneled it toward bitter sarcasm. “Ha ha ha. Ah, look it’s the guy who’s such a loser that when he moved in here, they had to change the place from ‘Happy Hotel’ to ‘Hazbin Hotel’. At least someone finally named something after you, though. Ha!” 

Alastor puffed up his chest with pride. “I renamed the place myself, actually. So much more charming and fitting for clientele such as yourself.” 

“Why you little-!” Sparks flew between Vox’s fingertips as he slid off the stool and marched over to that smug deer asshole. 

Vox only took a few steps before the princess shoved herself into his path, holding her hands up like she was trying to quell a furious child. “Hey, now. I know things are a little tense between you two, but I would really appreciate it if you and Alastor could get along while you’re here.”

Vaggie shuffled over to Charlie’s side. Tension pulled her shoulders together as a mixture of concern and anger heated her gaze. He jabbed her finger at Alastor. “And you shouldn’t goad him.” 

“I was merely welcoming an old pal.” Alastor waved aside her comment.

“Why is Flat Face here?” Adam released Alastor’s hand, twining his arm across Alastor’s shoulders instead. The action could have easily been possessive, but Adam oozed an amused confidence as he relaxed against Alastor. He slumped his weight onto Alastor like he was some dragon-human blanket that enjoyed wrapping itself around Alastor.

Alastor welcomed Adam’s clinginess. He placed his palm on the cradle of Adam’s back. He subtly leaned into Adam, perhaps not even cognitively aware of how his body wanted to be closer to Adam’s. 

Vox’s fingers ached to rip Alastor’s arm off of Adam and push him away. 

Vox tamped down on the urge. “As if Alastor doesn’t already know.” Vox pointed at the radio. “That asshole was probably listening the whole time.” 

Alastor’s grin widened, showing off all of his sharp, yellow teeth. A high-pitched radio screech filled the lobby. “My, my. Someone is awfully full of themselves. It’s almost as cute as your paranoia.” 

“I’m not cute!” Vox shouted on reflex, his mouth moving faster than his brain registered what he was saying. As the word “cute” leaped from his lips, it became an audio loop—his system replaying it over and over against his will as if it were a malware program. He heard himself and Alastor uttering the word, and he felt himself mentally spiraling down a slide of giddiness and humiliation. 

He didn’t know what was worse. That some piece of himself was thrilled that Alastor had called him cute or that he’d stupidly shouted that he wasn’t cute in front of all these losers?

Adam snickered. He bent his head down so his lips hovered over Alastor’s ear, his nose brushing the tip of the furry appendage. “Totally see why you like fucking with this guy, babe.” 

“No one is fucking with anyone,” Charlie tried to state firmly, but her body language reeked of insecurity. She was hunched over with her hands tucked near her chest. The princess seriously needed to learn that part of exuding confidence was taking up space. It was why even Alastor, who supposedly hated physical contact, would thrust himself into people’s personal bubbles from time to time. 

That, and he was an annoying motherfucker. 

 Adam threw his head back and guffawed. “Speak for yourself, Princess.” He smirked at Vaggie. “Makes sense now why you’ve been extra bitchy this week.”

“Why you-” Vaggie threw herself at Adam.

Charlie seized Vaggie’s shoulders and held her back. “Deep breaths, Vaggie.”

Vaggie screwed her eye shut and took a deep gulp of air, held it, then released it. Her body relaxed. He placed her hand over Charlie’s. “Sorry about that.”

Charlie cupped Vaggie’s cheek. “It’s okay. Adam can be a little much.” 

“Adam is right here,” Adam said. “And not only can he hear you two, but he still wants to know why the walking boob tube is here.” 

“Oh. Right.” Charlie dropped her hand from Vaggie’s cheek and cleared her throat. “Dad called Vox. Dad’s in the middle of a project right now, and I guess he wanted Vox’s help.”

A raised eyebrow was the only indication of surprise on Alastor’s face. “Lucifer wants Vox’s help?” Alastor clucked his tongue against his teeth in amusement. “How the mighty have fallen.” 

“And suspicious,” Husk grumbled from the bar. 

Adam’s brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you be in his room or something?”

The itching sensation across Vox’s pinkie became more noticeable. His fingers twitched. 

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek before answering. “I was hoping to verify with Dad before sending Vox anywhere in the hotel.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Disappointment covered her like a gray cloud. “He still hasn’t responded.” Charlie faced Vox. “I’m sorry, Vox. I don’t think Dad’s going to respond soon… if at all.” Charlie winced at the confession. “I think you should go.” 

Shit! Vox couldn’t leave without seeing Lucifer, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to tell everyone that he had a contract with Lucifer. He’d just have to be persistent. Vox plastered on a smile. “I’ll wait.”

Charlie shook her head. “I don’t think-”

“Fuck it!” Adam slipped away from Alastor. He stomped over to the elevator and jammed his finger into the elevator button. Agitation twitched and flapped Adam’s wings. “If that asshole thinks he gets to lock himself away like some whiny little bitch, then he’s got another thing coming.” 

The elevator chimed, and its doors opened. Adam shuffled into the elevator’s red walls. He pressed his finger against something on the interior wall of the elevator—most likely the button panel. Adam scowled. “You coming or what, Flat Face?” 

Vox mentally staggered, then hurried toward the elevator. “If you insist.” 

Charlie scurried alongside Vox into the elevator. “I don’t think now is-”

“You can’t just force your way into someone’s room, Adam!” Vaggie chastised as she followed on Charlie’s heels. 

A shadow appeared between Vox and Adam in the elevator. It undulated before peeling away to reveal Alastor. Vox scowled at Alastor, as Alastor linked his arm with Adam’s. 

“You coming too, pussy?” Adam hollered at Husk. 

Husk lifted a solitary middle finger at Adam as he chugged a bottle of whiskey at the bar. 

“Suit yourself.” Adam lifted his finger off the “Doors Open” button and pushed the button for the highest floor. 

The doors slid shut, and the elevator jerked, then rose. The dial above the doorway moved, its arrow sliding past one number after the next until they reached the top floor. There was a chime, and the doors opened. 

Adam shoved past Charlie and Vaggie, ramming his elbow into Charlie and swinging Alastor into Vaggie.

“Hey!” Vaggie snapped, righting herself. 

Alastor chortled as Adam pulled him along. “You know how he gets when he sets his mind to things.” 

“Come on!” Charlie snatched Vaggie’s hand, towing her girlfriend along like Adam had Alastor as she gave chase. 

Vox huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stepped out of the elevator. What a bunch of idiots. One moment they were scared to let him venture outside of the lobby. Now, they’d left him alone on the top floor of this tacky hotel. 

The temptation to cause chaos gnawed at him, but Vox controlled himself. He’d scope out the place, but he wouldn’t do anything that could get him in trouble with Lucifer, not until he had a better understanding of where he stood with Lucifer. Begrudgingly, he strolled through the hallway in the same direction the idiots had taken. There wasn’t much reconnaissance he could do without venturing into the guestrooms, so other than noting the general floor plan of the place, he got little information. 

“Open up, you little freak!” Adam pounded on the apple-shaped door at the end of the hallway. “I know you’re in there.”

Charlie set a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Maybe we should calm down and-”

Adam kicked the door. “Stop the fucking pity party already! Your fucking daughter is worried about you!”

“What? No.” Charlie laughed nervously as she batted away Adam’s claim. “I’m not worried. Totally not worried. My dad is just having one of his creative moments.” 

Adam hit Charlie with a deadpan stare. “Are you seriously that stupid, or do you just think we are?” 

“Ha!” Alastor laughed. 

A click sprung from the door as it opened. Lucifer’s pale face poked out from behind the door. Gray bags lined his eyes, which were tinged red as if he’d been crying. Blond strands of hair poked and curled out from under his white top hat. A white, fuzzy bathrobe desperately clung to him as it pooled off his shoulders. The matching fuzzy belt was the only thing keeping the robe up. A pair of duck-themed boxers poked out from under the robe. 

Lucifer beamed at Charlie. “Heeeeeeey, gurl. What’s shaking?” 

Vox died inside. 

Chapter Text

Vox’s humiliation was scathing. He’d made a deal with the devil, and the aforementioned devil was behaving like a depressed twenty-something-year-old who had learned all of their coping mechanisms from watching slop TV dramas and movies. Vox would bet good money if Lucifer opened the door more, Vox would spot half-empty cartons of ice cream dribbling on the carpet and kernels of popcorn scattered across the king’s rumpled bed. 

“Hi, Dad.” Charlie clutched her elbow like it was an anchor keeping her in place against the roiling waves of anxiety crashing into her. The fabric of her jacket bunched under her fingertips. “You, uh… How’s the project going?”

Lucifer’s eyes slow-blinked like a toad, one eye at a time. It wasn’t the weirdest trait Vox had ever seen in Hell, but it was interesting to witness it on Lucifer, who was often associated with goats, not amphibians. “My project?” Confusion slowed his words.

“Fucking loser.” Adam pinched the bridge of his nose like he was staving off a headache. Adam growled, the sound coming out more beastly than human. He seized the fluffy shoulders of Lucifer’s robe, then yanked them up to cover Lucifer’s bare, porcelain-like skin. “Get a grip and snap out of this depressive bullshit.” 

Lucifer jolted to attention at Adam’s touch. Any confusion he had was gagged and dragged off to a dark corner of Lucifer’s being. He stood taller and in an act of defiance, Lucifer pushed down one of his robe’s shoulders, showing off his pale shoulder and collarbone as he smirked lasciviously at Adam. “How about I get a grip on you?” Lucifer pitched his voice low and sultry. 

Everyone, except Alastor, grimaced. How the fuck Lucifer had ever landed a baddie like Lilith with his seduction skills would remain a permanent mystery.

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked gently. 

Lucifer lit up with so much exuberance it was painfully obvious that his joy was an act—almost as painful as getting a root canal. “I’m perfect! Just, you know, a little busy with things.” 

A quack came from the bedroom. 

Adam groaned as if someone had assigned him a month’s worth of paperwork to do by hand with a stubby pencil and no eraser. He buried his face in his palm as he turned his back on Lucifer. Adam leaned on Alastor for support. He coiled his arms around Alastor’s shoulders and grumbled into Alastor’s neck, “Not the fucking ducks again.” 

Charlie and Vaggie shared a frown. Charlie crane her neck around Lucifer and Vaggie stood on her tiptoes to peer over Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer scurried forward and slammed the door shut behind him, destroying any view that they might have of his room. Lucifer chuckled as he placed a hand over his chest. “Whoopsie! Left that darn record on again!” 

“He’s such a freaky little idiot,” Adam whined as he nuzzled into Alastor’s neck.

“We’re all aware.” Alastor comfortingly patted Adam on the back. 

“Uh, sir?” Vaggie inquired. She stiffened as Lucifer’s attention shifted to her. “We were wondering if you invited Vox here?”

Confusion pinched Lucifer’s brow. He frowned. “Who?”  

Suddenly everyone’s head turned toward Vox. Suspicion became a harsh scowl on Vaggie’s face and a deep frown on Adam’s. Confusion and concern embraced Charlie as she wrestled with herself. Alastor smiled, arching an amused brow at Vox while keeping his palm on Adam’s back. He was the least affected by Lucifer’s answer, and it rankled Vox. Alastor should be worried that Vox had infiltrated his home. 

“Oh,” Lucifer’s voice penetrated the judgemental atmosphere. “You’re the guy from the restaurant.” 

The attention that had been on Vox whipped back around to Lucifer faster than a lightning bolt. The anger and suspicion that had permeated the hallway transformed into bemusement.

“You know Vox?” Charlie asked. 

Lucifer frowned, mirroring the surrounding bafflement. He scratched the back of his neck. He eyeballed the ceiling as if the answer to Charlie’s question was written there. “Is that his name?”

Vox cleared his throat. Best to take control of this shitshow. He marched over to Lucifer and extended his hand. “Your Majesty! Long time no see. You’re looking fantastic. Very comfortable loungewear. I know it’s been a while, but I’m here to make good on that promise we made.”

“Promise?” Lucifer and Alastor asked at the same time. 

Lucifer and Alastor’s fiery gazes locked, and the atmosphere transformed into a blaze of tension. The hallway felt a couple degrees hotter, and Vox swore he saw literal lightning bolts passing between Lucifer and Alastor’s eyes as they sneered at each other like a turd they’d stepped into. 

Vox reflected on Lucifer’s confession at the restaurant. Lucifer had a crush on Alastor? The same Alastor who Lucifer looked like he wanted to wrap his hands around strangle? The same Alastor who possessed such an infuriating smile that anyone would want to wipe it off that smug mug? Lucifer, who could easily pin Alastor. Put Alastor in his place, and-

Vox swiftly cut off that thought.  

Vox slid in between Alastor and Lucifer. Since Lucifer hadn’t taken his extended hand, Vox slipped his arm around Lucifer’s shoulders, pulling the King into his side like they were the best of friends. “You wanted me to stay by your side, so I ain’t gonna abandon you. We’re going to work on this thing together!” 

Lucifer’s mouth scrunched with displeasure. He opened his mouth, but just as he began to speak, he paused. His eyebrows shot up his forehead like a pair of hairy spiders skittering away from danger. “Oh.” Surprise and realization coated the word. “Oh,” Lucifer repeated lower, a note of dread entering his voice. 

Lucifer glanced up at Vox, curiosity in his gaze. 

Vox grinned widely down at Lucifer, silently willing Lucifer to keep his mouth shut and keep everyone else in the dark about their arrangement. 

“Heh,” Lucifer huffed out, his nervous smile a mirror image of his daughter’s. “Great to have you aboard!” Lucifer slapped his hand against the small of Vox’s back.

And sent Vox stumbling forward. 

Vox yelped and pinwheeled his arms to keep himself from falling. There was no friggin’ way he was landing face first on the carpet in front of Alastor!

“Whoa there, buddy!” Lucifer latched onto the coattails of Vox’s jacket and yanked Vox back into place. “You need to be more careful.” 

Irritation thrummed through Vox. Sparks sprung between his fingertips and antennae. He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and smiled. “You jokester!” Vox slapped Lucifer’s shoulder with enough strength to knock someone over.

The short stack didn’t even flinch. 

Lucifer looped his arm around Vox’s waist while his other hand landed on the doorknob to his bedroom. “I’ll talk to you later, sweetie,” Lucifer aimed at Charlie. “Vix and I need to have a little chat.” 

Surprise jolted through Charlie, causing her shoulders to spring toward her ears, then droop as disappointment overrode her shock. “O-okay. Just promise me you’re okay.”

Lucifer’s grin faltered, Charlie’s unexpected request knocking him off balance far better than Vox’s slap had. “I promise.” He screwed his smile back on. “Toodaloo!” Lucifer pushed open the door, scurried backwards into his bedroom, and took Vox with him. Before Charlie could see the state of his bedroom, Lucifer shut the door and locked it. 

“Phew!” Lucifer released Vox. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “What a commotion, huh?”

Lucifer’s bedspread was a messy pile on the floor. Empty ice cream and popcorn bins littered the mattress and nightstands. Circus motifs and themes decorated every piece of furniture and decor in the bedroom, from the drapes to the carpet. Worse than Lucifer’s interior design skills and his cliche reaction to heartbreak were the piles of rubber ducks. They were everywhere, including on a small table with a tea set. 

Wait…

One of the rubber ducks was seated at the table.

Had Lucifer been having a tea party with the duck?

Lucifer’s gaze followed Vox’s. 

In a blink, Lucifer appeared behind the chair. He swiped the duck off the seat. The duck squeaked as it hit the floor and rolled away as iridescent bubbles floated out from its bill. 

Faster than Vox’s eyes could track, Lucifer rushed at Vox with the chair. One moment Lucifer was in front of him, and the next, the bottom of the chair pushed against the back of Vox’s knees. Vox yelped as he was plopped onto the chair. The world rushed around him as he was thrust forward. A pressure built against his chest at the force. He gasped and suddenly the world returned to normal speed. 

Lucifer and Vox sat opposite each other at the table in matching chairs. Lucifer beamed at Vox. “You know, not many sinners get to see my bedroom. You should consider yourself lucky.” 

“You hitting on me?” Vox asked. 

Lucifer’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “What? No!” The corners of Lucifer’s mouth wrinkled as he sneered with disgust. “Why would I ever-?” Lucifer cut himself off and shook his head. 

“If we ain’t gonna fuck, then I don’t see what’s so impressive about being in your bedroom. Look at this dump!” Vox gestured to the empty ice cream cartons. “When’s the last time you cleaned this place?” He pointed at the rubber ducks. “And unless you’re selling those things like their jewels, I got no reason to be impressed by whatever the fuck that is.” 

Lucifer crossed his arms. He leaned back in his chair as his lips curled into a smirk. “You’re pretty bold for someone who I’ve got by the balls, or by the soul, if we’re being explicit.” 

Vox grimaced. Shit, he ran his mouth. He needed to be sweet, or at least not offend the damn guy who had him on a leash. Apologizing now would make him look weak, though. It also put a foul taste in his mouth. Taking a beat to calm himself, Vox asked, “So what do you want?” 

Lucifer huffed, the sound almost sounding like a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Lucifer snapped his fingers and steam billowed out of the elephant-shaped teapot at the center of the table.

There was movement out of the corner of Vox’s eye to the left. 

Vox tensed and snapped his head toward the movement, only to freeze. Another Lucifer dressed as a fancy waiter in a dark vest and white button down had appeared. The second Lucifer wore a small smile as he picked up the teapot. 

Vox’s attention swiveled between Waiter-Lucifer and Disheveled-Lucifer.

Waiter-Lucifer filled two teacups with a dark tea that had a robust cocoa aroma. He slid the first cup he filled to Disheveled-Lucifer, then the second cup to Vox. Waiter-Lucifer tucked his hands behind his back, took a step backwards, and vanished. 

Vox gawked at the place Waiter-Lucifer had last been.  

Lucifer slurped his tea, the obnoxious sound snatching Vox’s attention. Lucifer sighed as he finished his first sip of tea. He set his cup down on the table, but kept his fingers curled around it like he was trying to absorb warmth from the cup. He grinned. “That is a great question.” 

Vox wanted to scowl at Lucifer’s response. He swiftly picked up his teacup and drank. The bitterness of the tea and the sweetness of the cocoa were a delicious combination that Vox enjoyed more than he cared to admit. 

“I’m not really interested in having another soul tethered to me,” Lucifer said. 

Vox wondered how many souls Lucifer had tied to him. He was the devil, so theoretically, any soul in Hell was his to command. Which was probably why there were so many stories about the devil making deals with living humans. After all, why make a deal with a sinner who you already control when you could poach a potential soul from Heaven instead? 

“Your daughter probably wouldn’t be happy about our little arrangement, either.” It was a gamble to mention Lucifer’s daughter—short stack could get pissed—but if Charlie didn’t want her dad forming soul contracts with anyone, then that was a point of weakness Vox could exploit. 

Lucifer sighed dramatically. He held his palms up and shrugged. “You got me there. It would be best if I just broke my contract with you.” 

Something wasn’t right. Vox’s gut told him he was sitting in a bear trap. One wrong move, and the trap would snap shut on him. 

“How good are you with pain?” Lucifer asked casually, like he was asking how Vox liked his coffee. 

A short, quick chuckle escaped Vox like a hushed gasp. “What a loaded question. Okay, I’m picking up what you’re laying down. How much pain would removing the contract be?”

Lucifer raised his cup to his lips. “For me? Nothing.” He took a short sip of his tea. “For you? Insanity inducing. You’d also most likely lose your hand permanently.”

Vox’s hand instinctively clenched. Wasn’t like he hadn’t lost a few limbs here and there in Hell, but nothing permanent. Losing his grip on his sanity wasn’t anything to scoff at either. Sure, that Niffty chick seemed to do well with all of her marbles lost, but Vox had a company to run. “So that brings us back to my question. What do you want?” 

“What can you offer me that I don’t already have?” Lucifer countered. 

Vox’s mouth curled into a grin. He enjoyed a good negotiation. It loathed that he was at the disadvantage, but that the rush of the back and forth as he fought for the best deal for himself was addicting. “I could put you on TV? Get you a show. Or is there a show we’ve canceled that you really like? I can bring it back.” 

“Eh. I’m not a big TV fan. Rots the brain, you know?” Lucifer tapped his temple. 

“How about a few concubines or full access to any of Valentino’s employees?” With Lilith gone and Lucifer carrying a hard on for two people who had no interest in him, the guy was probably relying on his hand to get through his lonely nights.

Lucifer sighed. His shoulders drooped as annoyance dragged the corners of his mouth down. “Not interested, buddy. You know the answer is in our contract, right?” 

“You don’t want me to abandon you?” Irritation gnawed at Vox. Sure, the premise sounded simple, but it was too vague. “What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“It means you’re my companion.” Lucifer sipped his tea.

Still, not a definitive answer. If Lucifer was going to be a vague bitch about his answer, then Vox would just have to provoke Lucifer into explaining himself. “So you want to fuck me?” 

Lucifer’s cheeks puffed. His pink cheeks turned a warmer hue as blood, or whatever equivalent angels had, pumped into Lucifer’s face. Lucifer sucked down his mouthful of tea. He coughed into his fist to clear his throat. “Does everything have to involve sex with you?”

“I thought the devil was supposed to be a master seducer.” Vox was certain Lucifer’s ex wife had been the seducer in their relationship. 

“Yes, well,” Lucifer took another sip of tea. He was probably stalling for time. “I’m not interested in sex with you.” 

“I’d be a great lay,” Vox offered. Did he want to become Lucifer’s bitch? Fuck no. Was he curious what Lucifer was like in bed? Hell yeah. The devil had centuries of experience and had to be into some kinky shit. Also, if his choice was to get railed on the daily by Lucifer or waste his time collecting rubber ducks with Lucifer, he knew which outcome he preferred. 

Lucifer reached under the table and patted Vox on the knee consolingly. “I’m sure you think that, buddy, but I’m not interested.” 

Vox scowled as he gestured at the room. “So what? You just want me to visit you everyday and we do jigsaw puzzles?”

“It doesn’t have to be every day,” Lucifer said. “Perhaps every other day for now? That should keep any compulsions you have to be near me at bay.”

It took all of Vox’s willpower not to slump forward and groan. It could be worse, he told himself, and it was true. Lucifer was being downright merciful with what he could demand from Vox. It was just humiliating to think that he might actually have to do something as banal as jigsaw puzzles. 

Vox gagged on his pride and summoned his business smile for Lucifer. “Sounds excellent, your majesty.”