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Valentino has developed a new kink and it's not one of the fun ones. He'd have taken a piss kink, a bit of breeding or even some kind of fetish play but no, it couldn't have been that easy.
No, his new kink is when Vox shows he cares.
It's sickening and pathetic and it makes his heart melt. He hates it and he loves it and it's ruining his fucking life.
Because this new kink is getting into his head and is damaging his work. How is he supposed to be up to date with the latest and most depraved sex acts if what rocks his socks is Vox being nice to him? And if he's not making pornography that's relevant then he may as well just make fucking rom-coms with absolutely no porn in them. Not even the soft stuff.
Porn is basically his identity, if he has to start making rom-coms who the fuck would he be?
Vox’s fucking simp, apparently.
Valentino the fucking rom-com overlord is stupid as fuck and so not sexy.
“I think I'm broken.” He tells Velvette as he stares down at the breakfast Vox has made for him. He's purposely ignoring the cheesy little note he'd left with it. It's got a drawing of the three of them on it and wishes him a good day. It's so stupid and cute and fuck, Val is half hard already.
“Mood,” Velvette replies with a snort of a laugh as she scrolls through Sinstagram. She's finished her food and is sipping her coffee quietly.
“No, like actually broken.” Valentino is still staring at his breakfast and it looks so good. If he thinks about it he can still feel the kiss Vox pressed to his cheek as that familiar heat curls through his stomach.
“Okay, why?”
“I've developed a new kink.” He starts, he takes the coffee and gulps it down mournfully. It's scalding hot, just how he likes it. Fuck, that man is perfect.
“Is this gonna make me vom?” She asks with an eyebrow raise, “Val, I just ate my breakfast. Shall I get Vee? Maybe the two of you can get it out of your system.”
“No!” He yells a bit too loud but fucking hell if Vox found out about this Val would fucking double-die from the sheer embarrassment of it. Vox would either be unbearably sweet to wind Val up and then the moth demon would do something absolutely stupid like tell Vox he loves him, or, his heart hurts at the thought, or it would all be over.
Because this kink is starting to venture into feelings territory and all they've done with that for the last several decades is dance on the edge of it and occasionally dip a toe in. They've flirted with the whole love thing, sure; he remembers moments when they could have crossed into more. There have been hints and suggestions of deeper affection if Valentino really looks at it, but nothing concrete from either of them. Nothing that would actually damage this delicate thing between them.
So this could be the straw that actually breaks them.
“Oh? Must be bad if you won't get your boyfriend in on it.” She raises an eyebrow and actually puts her phone down. Valentino can count on one set of hands the times he's seen her do that. At least she's taking this seriously for him. Good.
“He's not-” Valentino starts on instinct because Vox has denied what they are so many times that it's second nature to copy that pattern and then he stops. This is Velvette, fuck that. “Alright, he basically is. But you can't tell him, babydoll, promise me you won't tell him.”
“Val, surely it's not that bad? You don't want to like fuck the radio demon or something?” She pulls a face and the thought actually helps kill his boner a bit. Nice. Just got to think about that fuckass haircut and that creepy-ass monocle and voila! He feels like he can think now that the blood isn't rushing straight to his cock.
“Ew. Never.” Valentino winces at her in absolute disgust. “Just promise me?”
“Fine, I won't tell Vox I promise.” She holds up her hands, “Cross my heart and hope to double die and all that.”
“Okay, brace yourself. It's not like a fun one.” He warns her, gripping the countertop with both sets of arms. He's deadly serious and she looks a bit worried now. Good, she should be. It is awful.
“You’re scaring me Val, spit it out.” She reaches a hand out, concern on her face.
“It's…Vox showing he cares.” Valentino admits with an embarrassed squeak. He feels his face heat with embarrassment and puts a hand to his mouth in shame.
“What?” Velvette looks at him, confused. He watches her face bounce through several emotions before it settles on her ‘I-think-you're-an-idiot-Val’ face. Fuck. “Sorry, your new ‘kink’ is Vox showing that he cares about you?”
“Hmhmm.” Valentino nods mournfully.
“Val, hear me out cause I'm not an expert or anything, but I think that's like… normal?” Velvette speaks slowly, like he's a confused child, and he notes that her phone is back in her hand. He has officially lost her.
“Not for us, it isn't.” He huffs.
“Okaaay. Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about.” She sighs, dumping her plate in the sink and filling up her coffee mug. “Come bother me when you've got literally any other problem.”
“Velvette!” He exclaims because honestly, this lack of support is not it. They're supposed to be a team, she's supposed to pick him when he and Vox fight.
“You find it hot when your partner of several decades treats you nicely?” She turns around and looks at him incredulously, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised.
“Yeah.”
She walks out without another word.
Huh.
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It gets worse.
Valentino slinks into Vox’s office because he's fucking bored and bothering his business partner is always fun. Especially if there's a chance that he might get laid (and there's always a chance that he might get laid with Vox around).
As it happens Vox is at his desk, Shock.wav swimming behind him in his tank and Val waves at the shark. Val’s eyes land on Vox and ugh, he looks hot today, he's ditched his jacket and tiny hat. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms look good in this lighting. Plus, he's got that (sexy) frowny, concentrating face on and he looks like he's working on something boring.
Well, time to change that.
“Voxxie baby, I'm bored.” Valentino cooes as he walks over to his partner’s desk with a little extra sway of his hips.
He can feel Vox’s eyes on him as they move up his fishnet-clad legs, to the scandalously short skirt and the basically see-through top. He sees a crackle of static jump off the man and oh yeah, they're definitely about to fuck. Val smiles and promptly places himself on top of whatever Vox was working on. The poor fucker doesn't even complain.
“Val, you look nice today,” Vox says, eyes crawling up the moth’s legs that he's purposely flaunting for exactly this purpose.
“Just nice, baby?” Val leans forward, catches the underside of Vox’s screen with a finger and pulls him in closer.
Vox opens his mouth to reply when a hesitant voice calls into the room and Vox’s wimpy assistant pokes his head around the door. Vox’s face flushes a pale cyan at the intrusion, “Mr Vox? Sorry, your urgent delivery arrived.”
“Ah, perfect.”
Valentino shoots him a raised eyebrow but Vox simply pushes his chair from the desk and walks around to meet his assistant halfway. Valentino watches Vox take the box from him and makes eye contact with the eel sinner thing. The assistant squeaks and basically runs from the room when Valentino wiggles his fingers at him with a big, lecherous grin. Val loves making him uncomfortable, it's one of his favourite hobbies.
“What a big package, papi.” Valentino winks suggestively as Vox makes his way back over.
Vox shoots him a look filled with fire and Valentino knows they're back on. Hell yeah. But then that sexy expression melts into a goofy and kind of adorably excited smile. Valentino is suddenly filled with dread because what if Vox bought that shark onesie he mentioned last week? The same shark onesie that Valentino ordered and has currently hidden in his room. The same shark onesie that he's saving to give to Vox as a present for their anniversary of being business partners obviously ha, ha. He knew Vox would fucking love it and he'll look super cute in it. Valentino gets the heart shivers just thinking about him wearing it.
Except Vox holds the box out to him.
“Huh?” Valentino raises an eyebrow. “I don't understand.”
“It's for you, babe.” Vox answers, his eyes sparkling as he smiles that soft smile of his. It's cute.
“Oh?” Valentino blinks at the box before he remembers he has hands and takes it from his partner.
He stares at it, surprised. Vox is watching him carefully, fuck, even the shark swimming behind his partner is watching him. He can hear a faint static buzzing that means the TV-headed demon is excited. A stray strand of electricity arcs between his antenna in a heart shape.
“Go on, open it.” Vox encourages him as he moves in between Valentino’s legs. His hand rests on his partner's knee and traces patterns into the soft, fuzzy skin there.
It’s with trepidation that Valentino opens the box and inside it's full of paint bottles. He pulls them out and lets out a squeak. It's not just any paint. It is the paint he's been wanting for years, the brand from Sloth that has always been too expensive or he couldn't justify or was too difficult to get. But Vox has gone and bought every colour they did.
Val is instantly rock hard.
“Is it the right stuff?” Vox asks, his sparkly joy has morphed into concern, brows pulled up, eyes big and worried.
“Yes.” Valentino breathes, his heart is beating rapidly in his chest. His blood feels like it's on fire in the best way possible, “How did you know?”
“You mentioned it the other day.” Vox runs a hand over the back of his neck in that way he does when he's nervous and Val thinks he’s so fucking cute. And sexy obvi. “Sorry, it took so long to get, it's hard to track down but you're worth it.”
Valentino ignores the happy little trill his heart makes at Vox’s words, how it makes a shiver run up his spine and his body aches with need for the man in front of him. He looks down at the box of paints between them.
“They’re perfect.” Valentino breathes and he looks at every bottle, so many gorgeous colours. He can feel that familiar ache in his fingers, an itch to get painting something.
And then his eyes land on Vox who is smiling again and stroking soft patterns onto his knee like Valentino might be precious. It makes him burn. He may be desperate to get painting but first he needs to deal with another familiar ache.
He puts the box carefully to one side on Vox’s desk and pulls Vox in by the bow tie. “Thank you, cariño.”
“You're welcome,” Vox replies and a spark of electricity flows through his antenna again. Valentino can feel the static as he rests his upper arms on Vox’s shoulders and his lower ones pull Vox even closer.
He licks up Vox’s neck before Vox turns his head and then they're kissing, messy and desperate. It catches fire like it always does and Valentino can't hold back the moan that escapes him. Vox takes advantage of his open mouth and deepens the kiss, tongues dancing and desperate for more. One of his hands is high on Val’s thigh, fingers wrapping the netting of his tights, the other is holding his side, his thumb playing with Val’s nipple through the mesh of his top. It has Valentino arching into his touch, needy and desperate.
Valentino uses both sets of his arms to pull on Vox’s clothes because he's still not close enough. They end up half sprawled on the desk with Vox’s knee in between Val’s legs as the moth leans back and pulls his lover down on top of him. He knows when Vox feels exactly how much he appreciates the gift because his partner lets out the most delicious groan.
Vox breaks away from him breathing heavily and eyes dark with lust. Exactly how Valentino likes him.
“One second.” Vox presses a quick kiss to Val’s lips like he can't bear the space between them either. He pulls up his assistant’s contact, but Val's in no mood to stop. He moves his kisses back to Vox’s neck and focuses on biting and sucking the skin there. "Ethan, clear the rest of my day, I'm, ah, Val... I'm not to be disturbed.”
“And neither am I.” Valentino purrs before he pulls Vox back in by the lips, not caring if Vox managed to hang up.
He feels Vox’s hands slip up even higher up his thigh and he pushes his hips up against his touch.
Neither of them is going anywhere anytime soon.
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Blessedly Valentino’s new kink cools off slightly after the paint incident. Or more likely, he just doesn't see Vox as much because their schedules explode and it leaves little room to breathe let alone see each other or have mad, passionate sex.
And honestly, Val's a little grateful.
Not that he's not loving the quantity of orgasms he's been receiving lately, but it is a lot. Even for him.
He hates to admit that even he’s getting a little worn out.
So it's good, the space. He gets time to use his new paints even if he does spend 90% of his time feeling horny as fuck because Vox bought them for him (!!). It gives him time to chill out, to think about other things. Things like how to get revenge on Velvette since all she does now is mock him relentlessly and he swears that's the last time he goes to her for relationship-shaped worries (it's not and it won't be). But it's fine. It's nice.
On the other hand, it's also bad. Because he misses his boyfriend who refuses to accept that they're in a relationship. And it's not like Vox stops doing the sweet things that turn Val on, he doesn't. He's just no longer there to reap the rewards and Val can barely sort himself out because his schedule is that crazy.
He's basically walking around half-crazed by lust like some kind of hot as fuck, horny, sex zombie.
Which now that he thinks about it… is maybe not a bad idea. Maybe there's an idea for a new film in there. He'll have to workshop it more.
The point is, he's barely seen Vox and the sleepy half-cuddles when they both finally managed to drag themselves into bed at night aren't quite cutting it for him. It’s clear that this kink isn't going anywhere because even his wettest dreams are full of Vox buying him flowers, or taking him out for dinner, or you know, telling Val that he loves him and that he can't live without him and that Valentino is all he ever needs and then oh he's down on one knee and he's proposing or whatever.
He's definitely got a problem and he's going to fix it. He's fucking determined.
He's going to film them the next time they have sex and he's going to analyse and take notes and he's going to work out what the fuck is wrong with him. With them.
So he does that.
He's sat there on the sofa of their communal lounge watching him and Vox fucking on his phone. He remembers this well since it was only the other day. Vox had gotten him his favourite smoothie on his way back from the latest overlord meeting and Valentino had to have him right there in his dressing room/office. Right on the chaise lounge.
He watches them kiss and touch and stroke each other waiting for it to get good, to get kinky. Except, Valentino realises with a start, it looks disturbingly and toe-curlingly like they're making love.
Okay, he doesn’t remember that.
He shudders at the thought in a mix of disgust and absolute desire, simultaneously enthralled and repulsed by the completely vanilla missionary that is currently rocking his world both on and off screen.
God, he couldn't even sell this film of their sex life now because this is truly pathetic. How happy they both look, gazing into each other's eyes, kissing each othe softly, touching each other gently. How tame and beautiful and soft and warm. Ugh.
He can't remember the last time he touched a ball gag or the shibari ropes, let alone a fucking dildo or a butt plug. It makes him squeak, one of those annoying moth squeaks because he realises with a start, that this boring, married people sex is some of the best sex of his life. Ugh, slow and languid with lots of fucking eye contact. He watches Vox’s hands intertwining with his, Vox whispering sweet nothings into his ears, Vox kissing his forehead like he's something precious. It makes him sick and yet he wants to gorge himself on it.
He's never been more fulfilled and simultaneously ravenous for more.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
“Val, what's wrong? Are you okay?” Vox asks as he enters the room and Valentino snaps out of his thoughts and into the present. He turns off his phone before Vox can see what's on it because Jesus Christ, he is not explaining any of this to his not-boyfriend.
Vox comes to a stop in front of him, eyes soft with concern. Oh boy. He can feel that low heat start to simmer already.
“Just you know, watching porn…” Valentino says slowly, tries to act bored and not like he's having a mental breakdown. It's not a lie really.
Except, can you even call that porn?
It's disgusting, a mockery of the art form. It's practically wholesome.
“In the lounge, Val?” Vox’s mouth curls up in that way it does when he's amused, “Don't let Velvette catch you or she'll pitch a fit.”
“It's research for this thing I've been thinking about.” He waves a hand dismissively. “It’s not like sexy porn.” Because it really isn't. Right?
“About what?” Vox asks because he's a good not-boyfriend who takes an interest in Val’s life, like he might actually care about him. Ugh.
“Do you think we've gotten boring?” Valentino asks, pursing his lips as he watches Vox process the question.
“No. I mean we've both been busy…” Vox comes to stand in front of him and Valentino instantly grabs his belt loops and pulls him closer. He presses his face into Vox’s stomach and feels his partner's hands run through his neck fluff. He shivers at the touch and takes a moment to breathe.
Vox smells good, he always does, clean and fresh with a hint of Old Spice. Valentino takes a deep breath in, presses a kiss to his stomach. He can feel Vox running his fingers through his neck fluff before his hands reach Val’s shoulders. Then they rub and massage the tension he finds there. Valentino lets himself relax into the touch, lets himself melt against his partner.
Of course, Vox doesn't think they're boring, his 1950s ass is probably loving all this repressed, married life missionary.
“I was thinking actually, how's your calendar looking tonight?” Vox asks, his voice is hesitant like he's nervous.
Valentino moves his head up so he's looking up at his not-boyfriend, chin resting against his stomach. One of Vox’s hands caresses his face and Valentino tries to keep the hearts out of his eyes.
“I can make myself free.” He says and Vox smiles softly at him. He's not admitting that there's actually nothing in his calendar or that he was probably going to spend the night obsessively watching videos of them fucking and trying to work out what the fuck has happened to him.
“Good,” Vox practically purrs, voice low and sexy in that way that makes Valentino’s tones curl, “Fancy an impromptu dinner date?”
“Date, ey?” Valentino raises an eyebrow to hide the way his face heats and his heart starts beating fast.
If Vox being nice to him was a kink, Vox asking him on a date is another thing entirely. It's so beyond his wildest dreams that he doesn't even know how to react. He's glad he's sat down and Vox can't feel exactly how his words have affected him.
“It doesn't have to be-” His partner starts and Valentino doesn't want him to finish his sentence and so he doesn't let him.
“No, it sounds nice,” Valentino affirms and Vox nods stiffly. Once. Twice. His processing is taking too long for Val’s patience so he takes the next step and asks, “Shall we order food, watch a movie and snuggle?”
“Sure,” Vox nods, it's stiff but he seems to have gotten over that minor freak-out. Good, that was quicker than normal at least, “What do you want to eat?”
“Hmmm, nachos please, baby.” Valentino pouts his lips, “Ooh and maybe the empanadas… or the wings. One or the other. Ooh and Horchata please!”
“Anything else?” Vox asks with an amused smile. His hand moves down from Val’s cheek to his chin.
“No, thank you.” Valentino smiles as Vox bends and presses a soft kiss to his lips.
It's gentle and sweet and Valentino is desperate for more. A shiver runs up his spine and he sighs against Vox’s lips like he's the heroine of some tragic, old romance novel.
“Okay, I'll call them now.” He says as he walks away, Valentino only lets him go when he absolutely has to.
“And Velvette’s not invited so don't ask her if she wants anything,” Valentino says pointedly. At the questioning look Vox shoots over his shoulder, Val elaborates, “I'm mad at her.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not.”
“Okay. Just don't rip up her models again she’s got a show next week.”
Vox paces up and down the floor as he calls the food place and Valentino watches him from across the room. He's undeniably hot even with the TV-head or maybe because of it? Valentino can never decide. He's by the windows, backlit by the lights of their district. He looks good, dressed down in a jumper without his jacket, bow tie or little hat on. Valentino wants him, always wants him even when he knows he shouldn't. He feels that desire deep in his core.
Suddenly his man feels too far away and Valentino has a problem with that because he's feeling clingy and it means he's not touching Vox. So he gets up and presses himself up against Vox’s back as the TV-headed sinner finishes placing their order.
He places his chin between his antenna and wraps both sets of arms around the smaller sinner.
“You're clingy tonight.” Vox remarks as Valentino loops his lower set of thumbs in Vox’s belt loops, trying to get as many points of contact between them as possible. He feels better now, calmer.
“I missed you.”
He catches Vox’s blush in the reflection of them caught in the windows. Cute. They look good together and Val’s heart beats heavily in his chest with so much unspoken between them. Maybe he should tell Vox exactly how he feels, how he'felt for decades. Maybe that would be better…
They stay like that for a few moments, softly swaying together and looking down on their empire and Valentino feels something within him mend.
“Let's dance,” Vox says after a moment.
“What?”
“We haven't danced together for a long time, Val,” Vox replies as he twists in Valentino’s arms and then they're facing each other.
Vox is gentle as he takes Valentino's top set of arms and pulls them into a familiar dance. Valentino lets himself be led as Vox twirls him around until he's breathless and laughing. He needed this, this fun reprieve from the spiral of his overthinking.
When Vox twirls him back in, Valentino drapes his arms around the shorter sinner’s neck. He pushes his body close as Vox’s hands settle low on his back in some semblance of a slow dance. He nuzzles his face into the top of Vox’s screen and lets himself enjoy the closeness.
God, Valentino’s missed this. He misses how well they fit together, how it makes him feel so special and beautiful. Don't get him wrong, it makes him incredibly horny but it's also just nice. He didn’t have a lot of nice in his life or his death before he met Vox.
The urge to tell Vox how much this all means to him is strong, he can feel those three words on the tip of his tongue, fighting to get out. But he keeps his mouth shut. He isn't willing to risk losing this little slice of heaven he's carved out for himself.
So they stay like that until the food arrives, quiet and peaceful.
Vox ordered everything he asked for and couldn't decide between as well as a few other dishes that he knows are Valentino’s favourites just in case. It makes his heart, blood and loins burn and not much of the food gets eaten because Valentino practically jumps the man halfway through.
He notices their hands again, clasped together as Vox moves inside of him and he thinks maybe there are worse problems to have. Maybe this kink of his is pretty good. Maybe he's being slightly overdramatic.
(But don't tell Velvette because he's still mad at her).
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