[for @poisonedspider, Continued From Here]

[for @poisonedspider, continued from here]

Vox smiled when Angel actually accepted the drink, then even more when he spoke to him. Despite them having lived together for so long, he and Angel had had very few one-on-one conversations. When they did, they were usually something short and to the point, like Vox asking what kind of pizza Angel wanted, or the civil exchange of greetings. The two of them didn't interact all that often, certainly not directly. All this time, that had been by design--his design, not Angel's. Vox didn't want the interaction or the intimacy. He didn't want the risk. Too much time with Angel might upset Valentino--or Angel, for that matter--and there was always too much work to do to risk adding more to it. Vox had so many projects happening at any given time, his attention was being pulled in so many directions, that he didn't enjoy having to deal with emotional...

Issues.

But lately, he'd begun realizing that was a mistake--especially when it came to Angel Dust.

The Tower was a little too quiet without Angel around. Something unexpected was missing when he wasn't there, something Vox couldn't name or fully understand; whatever it was, it left an ache behind, left the world too quiet. So this? Having an uncomplicated moment together? It felt nice. Overdue. Stupid, maybe, for so many reasons, but still. Nice.

Vox walked alongside him, smiling--the smile half for Angel and half for the sharks they were going to see.

When one of Angel's arms brushed his shoulder, Vox shivered. He buttoned his shirt up, realizing that maybe he wasn't comfortable showing quite so much of his pale blue skin right now, and hoped Angel hadn't noticed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Angel, it was--something else. Something about Angel, something Vox knew better than to think about. Something dangerous.

Something tempting.

"There's a difference between not being busy," he pointed out, twitching an eyebrow, "and being interested in doing something. Allegedly," playfulness making his eyes seem to sparkle, "it's good for people to just have some downtime. To do nothing." Not that Vox bothered with that often.. or at all. Relaxation was for people who didn't have their own business empires to run; even here, even now, he was constantly processing data and monitoring the projects that needed it most.

Angel probably knew him well enough to know that, and might well make fun of him for it, which Vox wouldn't even be able to say was wrong of him. There were things Angel and Valentino both seemed to understand about being a person that Vox just... didn't. But that was fine. It took all sorts, right? Either way, Vox was happy. There was some pep in his step as the two of them walked along to the lagoon, although for once, Vox didn't seem to be in a hurry. He wasn't rushing--walking next to Angel Dust wasn't something that should be rushed.

"So, do you... have any plans for this week? Other than look incredible, of course."

What really appeals Stolitz to me as an aspec person is that the sex is not like the end goal, it’s not what we’re looking forward to or anticipating. We’ve long gone over that bridge and now we’re waiting for the emotional climax of their relationship where they learn to communicate healthily and it becomes less about the sex

I ain't too good at expressing stuff unless it's with my body.

Fuck.

Blitz understood that. He understood that far, far too well. The words hit like blows.

When Angel knelt so as not to loom over him, it had quieted him. He went still, watching him, on the verge of breaking--but only on the verge. Blitz didn't know what it was about this guy that made him so easy to open up to--maybe a sense of shared suffering? That they had enough in common, they could understand? Because Angel sure as fuck seemed to immediately get it, to get everything Blitz said, even the shit he only halfway explained.

The imp stepped in closer, trusting him.

He hated this. Hated crying in front of anyone. As far as imps went, Blitz was peak masculinity and beauty rolled into one; he wasn't the type who was supposed to cry. He shouldn't be broken. He shouldn't be so deeply fucking flawed. But he was, and he hated it, and was ashamed of it, ashamed of so much--

Only, when Angel looked at him like he understood? The shame didn't cut quite as deeply.

"Yeah," Blitz agreed, nodding. He swallowed hard and wiped quickly at his eyes, trying to put on a bright smile. "Yeah, you can fucking kiss me."

It was probably safer for both of them if they communicated through the physical, if they danced around the truth. Because while Angel cared about what happened to him, Blitz didn't. If he died, he died. He'd be away from all of this. He'd be free. He wouldn't be trapped anymore, he wouldn't have to think or feel, he could just be free, and so he was willing, absolutely willing, to risk death if he could help his friend. If Valentino needed an ass-beating, if that would get him to lighten up on Angel? It was worth risking everything for--because really, what was there to lose?

I would risk everything to help you, Blitz thought, golden eyes burning fiercely as he studied this friend he had never expected, never looked for. You're worth it. And if in the end we were both free? Even if that meant I couldn't see you anymore? That would be worth it, too.

Someday, one of them was going to be happy. He clenched his fists, determining that. Someday. And it was going to be Angel. Whatever it took, Blitz was going to find a way to help him.

"Yeah, but the fuckin' difference is yeh' could die, Blitz!" His voice strained, not wanting to interrupt the other, but that was it, wasn't it? If Blitzo were to die, then Angel didn't know what would happen. He didn't know what happened if hellborns, or imps, or goetia, or anyone else that wasn't a sinner were to actively die in Hell. He could double die, sure, and he would cease to exist. Or as far as they knew. But he could be killed, and still regenerate. With few exceptions.

He wanted to go off about this, but he was floored by what the imp was saying to him. He had known a lot about Blitzo since they had first met, but there were still things neither of them had shared with the other. While Angel had yet to explain that Valentino literally beat the ever-loving shit out of him, Blitzo had not mentioned this very important piece of his life. Leaving Angel absolutely stunned, mismatched hues wide.

"Please don't march in and beat the shit out of Val." He mumbled, going down to his knees in front of the other. He knew there was the whole don't talk to short people this way blah blah bullshit, but he wanted to be on Blitz' level for this. He wanted to meet him eye to eye, and tell him he understood. Sitting his butt back on folded legs, he opened his mouth, ready to say that he got it, that he was there for him, that he wasn't going -

"Can ah' kiss yeh'?" Well damn, that....that wasn't in the plan. He hadn't had much of a plan to begin with, but that had blurted out far too easily, blushing slightly and glancing away. "Ah' mean, ah' get if yeh' don't wanna, but all of that....ah' get it. Ah' understand it. Ah' empathize with it. Ah' ain't too good at expressin' stuff unless it's wit' mah' body, but right now ah' just....ah' really wanna just cup yeh' face and kiss yeh'...."

— Khalil Gibran

"What I'm thinking about?" Blitz asked, then immediately wanted to kick himself for repeating the question. Fuck, he sounded like an idiot. He frowned, finally going still, and slowly lowered the hand holding the knife. "I guess I'm thinking..."

About the howling loneliness inside, now that he knew about Verosika's party, now that he knew he had ruined things with Stolas for good. Those thoughts were always there, always roiling around inside him now, cruel little razor-edged thoughts... and definitely not something to open up to Mammon about. Blitz had hated this guy since he was a kid, with how easily Mammon just won everyone the fuck over with his charm and his probably really good hugs, the way he had dominated Fizzarolli's life, even before Fizz started working for him...

Fuck. No. No getting personal with this guy.

A little grumpily, Blitz sheathed the knife. "I'm thinking that you swearing on your money sounds legit enough for me. And yeah, that... that's actually all I came here for. I don't like... there wasn't much of a plan other than maybe fight you, and now that apparently isn't, you know, necessary." He rubbed at his head, frowning, then abruptly straightened up and folded his arms. "What do you care what I'm thinking about, though? What are you thinking about?"

Mammon couldn't help but snicker, despite the little angelic knife the imp before him had suddenly pulled out. Where the fuck were these imps getting these angelic weapons?! "Awe, that's sweet. Yanno, I'd invite ya in fer a snuggle or two if ya hadn't broken in here in the first place." Yeah, it was probably the wrong time to tease, but there was an open invitation & like hell Mammon was gonna pass it up. 

His gaze never once leaves theirs, the smirk steadily fading into a frown. "Yer not gonna let go of this, are ya ? " He grumbles, brows furrowing into a slight glare. "FINE. I swear on my fuckin' money that I will not bring any harm to Fizzy or Ozzie, alright ? " Didn't mean he still couldn't tease Ozzie & whatnot. 

This imp just didn't have to know that part. 

"Now, enough with pullin' these angelic weapons out o' yer ass. I swear, yer worse than those mob imps." Although to be fair, Crimson's goons actually did good on their part. Not that he wasn't making any sort of comparison. "Is that all ya came here for, bust open a sin's door & threaten him ? Because, I think there might be somethin' yer hidin'. C'mon. We've opened up th' doors here ... literally. Tell ol' Mams what yer thinkin' about."