Vox is lying in bed, watching as Valentino paces the length of the room with one hand buried in his curls and the other holding a phone to his ear. He's rambling in Spanish and Vox is a little too high to keep up with it. He gets the gist, one of his best models went and broke her ankle and broken ankles damn sure don't sell magazines.

Vox takes another toke before setting the joint in the ashtray as Valentino turns sharply on his heel once more. They'd been watching a movie before the phone call, a musical about a pair of murderers in flapper dresses. Now the movie's paused with the blonde woman caught in the middle of a screaming fit, her mouth open wide and eyes squinted. What's her name again? Renee something, he's sure.

"And if you don't find a replacement for that dumb bitch by Thursday, I'm gonna fly back there and kick both of your skinny asses," Valentino snarls down the line. He jabs his thumb against the screen and throws the phone across the room, the durable case bouncing off the wall and to the floor.

"Can we relax now, babe?" Valentino turns that snarl on Vox, who frog blinks in return. "Yeah, very scary, I'm shaking in my loafers. Movie? Ooh, snacks!" It takes Vox longer than he's proud to admit to get out from under the blankets and on his feet. "Why didn't we bring some food up here?"

"Because you don't like food in bed."

"But we're high. Fuck, sober me is such a dick." Valentino catches Vox around the waist and steers his wobbly ass back to their bed. "But, Tino, food—"

"I'll go get us some snacks, Papi. You just stay right here and don't do anything strenuous. You aren't the most coordinated at the best of times." Valentino mutters something under his breath that Vox doesn't care to understand.

"I'm to-totally cord- coriand—" He's still working on getting the word out when Valentino vanishes and returns with an armful of snacks. He barely notices the snack cake that's pressed into his hand, going cross-eyed to try and glare at his mouth. "I can't say that fucking word and you know it."

"But it's so amusing to watch you try," Valentino coos. "Eat your cupcake, Voxxy." Pouting, Vox eats the goddamn cupcake. He grabs another and tears the package open while Valentino un-pauses the movie.

"You're a disloyal husband," Renee Something shouts, jabbing a finger against her husband's chest.

"Wait, didn't she just fuck someone else," Vox checks.

"Shot him, too."

"Would you shoot someone for me?"

"I have, remember?" Vox hums with a fond smile, remembering a dark night in deep woods and the shocking report of gunfire. Valentino is always beautiful but he's positively radiant covered in blood, pupils blown wide and teeth bared in a feral snarl.

"I wanna see you like that again." The movie is forgotten as Vox clumsily straddles Valentino's lap, strong hands coming up to grip his thighs. "We could go hunting when Velvette's at dance practice, find someone that nobody in this town would miss."

"Mmm, it takes longer than an hour to find someone like that." Vox pouts even as he leans in to nuzzle against Valentino's jaw, pressing teasing kisses over the stubble. Valentino tips his head back to let him at his neck, moaning when Vox nips lightly at his pulse. "I'm sure we could manage it, though."

"We could put them in the basement, really take our time." Another bite, bound to leave an impressive bruise. Vox can't wait to see it, wants Valentino to be covered in his marks. He bites down a little harder when he gets to Valentino's shoulder, stopping just shy of drawing blood.

"Fuck, daddy," Valentino groans. Vox continues his downward trend, kissing and biting and licking until he reaches the waistband of Valentino's pants. The elastic band is easily shoved down, freeing Valentino's erection to the cool air of the room. "Don't tease me, baby."

"Don't te-tell me wha-what to do." Vox licks a hot stripe up Valentino's cock just to spite him. Valentino might be bigger, but Vox plays dom more often. He knows just how to make Valentino come undone, how to make him beg.

He moans when long fingers tangle in his hair, guiding him back to the head of Valentino's cock. It's so easy to take it in his mouth, in his throat, suckling and hollowing his cheeks in that way that makes Valentino's hips buck up against Vox's hands.

"You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic." Vox's head pops up, eyes wide with realization. Valentino lets out a choked groan at the sudden loss of heat, but Vox barely notices.

"Zellweger, that's her name! Mmph—" Vox's epiphany is cut off by Valentino's hand pushing him back down on his cock.


The next morning finds Vox being rudely awoken by a small body dropping onto his back. He lets out a grunt muffled by his pillow, the weight shifting until there are two small hands playing with his hair. He lays there a moment, hoping he's hallucinating, but nope. Those are definitely his daughter's hands in his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to braid it despite how short it is.

"What are the rules, Vel?"

"No comin' in your room without knocking first."

"And what did you do?"

"Come in your room without knocking." She leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, then goes back to his hair. He doesn't know why she loves it so much, but if it gets her to sit still and quiet for five minutes then it's a win. "Angel said it was okay."

"Is Angel the maid?"

"No, Angel's my friend." Vox lets out a short grunt of acknowledgment, almost back to sleep already. Let her play with his hair for as long as she likes, he and Valentino both have boxers on and Vox really wants to sleep a little longer. "He sings to me at night sometimes."

"That's nice, dear." He's nearly asleep when he hears a faint humming on the other side of the bedroom door. The staff shouldn't be here on a Saturday, so who the fuck is humming? "Babydoll, is someone in the house?"

"Uh-huh." She sounds so unbothered, still preoccupied with Vox's hair. He remembers what she said about Angel, singing to her when there shouldn't be anyone in her room. Does she have an imaginary friend? Fuck, is he gonna have to bribe the Vatican to perform an exorcism on his daughter? Can you even trust a priest around kids anymore? Goddamnit, he doesn't have time for ghosts.

"Is it…. Is it Angel?"

"No, dummy. It's Uncle Eelliot." Vox lets out a long breath, burying his face in the pillow again. Of course it's Papermint. Because what else would the man be doing on a Saturday morning if he wasn't working? Poor bastard needs a vacation and a good lay. He could fuck the ghost…?

"And why is he here this early?"

"Cause he's gonna take me to my party, 'member?"

"Chuckie's birthday," Valentino grumbles on Vox's right. He's got one eye cracked open, squinting in the watery sunlight. They'd forgotten to shut the blinds last night before they crashed.

"Charlie, Papa."

"Stupid name, little girl in Vel's dance class." Valentino waves a hand lazily through the air, then groans when Velvette slips sideways off of Vox and onto Valentino. He wraps an arm around her in spite of his glower, nuzzling his cheek against corkscrew curls. She's gotten tired of hot combs and now insists on natural hair. Vox doesn't mind, he thinks it suits her.

"She's not stupid. Her papa's the mayor."

"That's my girl, get in good with the rich bitches."

"She's one of the rich bitches," Vox reminds him.

"My baby ain't a bitch." He snuggles her tighter against his chest, glaring at Vox over her head. "Do we have to go rub elbows at the birthday party?" Vox has to stop and think about that, his thoughts lagging. He's still a little high and a lot hungover.

"Uh…. No. No, Charlie's parents are supervising everything. Plus, Papermint's taking her so that I can get caught up on paperwork." He has a pile of it in his office down the hall and his head throbs just thinking about it. He really shouldn't have opened that bottle of tequila last night.

"Do we trust Chakki's parents?"

"I've already done background checks on both of them. The worst skeleton in their closet is hopping the cemetery fence to make-out when they were teenagers. Just your typical goth shit. Very Mary Shelley."

"Wouldn't you rather stay home today, cielo? You've been running around all week." Velvette wriggles her way out from under Valentino's arm, pushing her hair off her face with a stubborn set to her mouth. Vox knows that expression, is intimately aware that a tantrum is about to happen.

"Of course she wants to go play with her friends," Vox cuts in smoothly. "Jesus, Tino, let the girl have some fun before school starts."

"Yeah, Tino," Velvette echoes. Valentino sputters, sitting up in bed so he has the high ground. Velvette arches her brow at his dramatics, a newly acquired skill that she uses all the time. Vox can't wait until she learns how to whistle. "They're gonna have a bouncy castle, Papa." Her little hands cup Valentino's face, both brows nearly disappearing into her hairline. "A bouncy castle."

"Sounds like a big deal," Valentino says through smushed lips. "S'pose I shouldn't keep you waiting, huh?" Velvette shakes her head, as somber as any five year old can be. "Go on downstairs and have Papermint make you a bowl of cereal. I'll get a shower and then help you pick out your outfit."

"I'm already dressed." She scrambles to her feet and holds out her arms proudly. She's got her Cinderella costume on over a tee and a pair of capris, feet shoved into a pair of flip-flops that just so happen to be on the wrong feet. "No me veo bonita?"

"Siempre te ves bonita, cariño." Velvette preens under Valentino's praise, swaying side to side with her arms still held out so they can fully appreciate the highlighter she'd spread over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Vox would bet anything that she'd stolen the makeup from their bathroom. Whatever, it's not like Vox minds buying his boyfriend new makeup. "Go on, babydoll." He delivers a light nudge between her shoulder blades to get her motivated.

"Kay, Papa!" She jumps off the bed and runs out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Vox cranes his neck to see if Papermint was still humming, but there's no one in the hall. His assistant has always been fast on his feet, so maybe he was already downstairs.

Valentino falls backward with a long groan, scrubbing his hands over his face. He'll need to shave again soon, the stubble dark and contrasting starkly against his dyed hair. Vox briefly wonders if he can convince Valentino to grow a beard, dye it the same lavender as his hair. He bets it would feel nice against his thighs.

"Remind me why we thought having a daughter was a good idea."

"Looks good for our image," Vox reminds him. "Plus, she's not so bad. Most kids her age kinda suck."

"And she sleeps in her own bed with no problem."

"And she was easy to potty train." Not that Vox and Valentino had potty trained her themselves. They had people for that. Come to think of it, they didn't really change her diapers either. They fed her and snuggled her and gave her all the attention a baby needs, but they didn't get their hands dirty if they could help it. Ah well, they've got more than enough money to pay for therapy. "Better go take that shower, Tino. You know how impatient our girl is."

"Yeah, yeah, shuddup." Vox cackles as Valentino disappears into their bathroom, the shower starting up soon after. Vox is tempted to join him, but then he sees the mostly finished joint in the ashtray and decides to indulge. What's the harm of starting the day with a light buzz instead of a hangover? He does some of his best work high.

He's tossing the roach in the ashtray again when Valentino steps out, stark naked and unashamed. And, really, he has nothing to be ashamed about; long limbs, carefully sculpted abs, nipple rings that wink when they catch the light. Completely smooth, the only hair on his body being on his head. Dolphin smooth, Vox thinks with a little giggle.

"I thought we weren't supposed to get high when Velvette's awake."

"You aren't supposed to get high when Velvette's awake," Vox corrects primly. "Remember last time? I found the pair of you huddled in the hall closet because your paranoid ass thought the boogeyman had broken in."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Oh, so you didn't snort three lines of coke?"

"I did, but I'm not the one who cut it. Shit was fucked, Voxxy." Valentino shudders at the memory and Vox can't bite back a cruel smirk. "Don't give me that look, ya little shit. If I didn't have plans today, I'd put you over my knee and give you a good spanking."

"Promise?" Valentino groans and storms out of the room, still grumbling a string of Spanish as he stomps down the stairs. His little tantrums are adorable when they don't include property damage. There's a distinct sound of something breaking and Vox drops his head back to the pillow. "He's not worth the prison sentence. He's not worth the prison sentence."