Chapter Text
When Velvette wakes, it is to the grinding hum of Vox's coffee machine. Dutiful as ever, Kitty has laid out three mugs and a multitude of pill bottles on her tray. The man of the hour, himself, is sprawled like a starfish, effectively eclipsing the whole bed and pinning both herself and Valentino who has wrapped himself around her like a particularly belligerent strain of ivy. His screen radiates a gentle light that tells her he's already awake.
As Kitty putters over, Vox raises himself up, languid and calm to take the tray from her. Velvette watches in rapt fascination as his clawed hands delicately pinch Val's chin, turning his head away from where it had curled against her neck. A long trail of drool follows; Val sleeps like the dead, especially after good sex.
She watches as he unscrews a shorter bottle, clawtip gently slicing the tablet in two and then, with practiced ease, he uncaps the one lined up behind it. He's tunneled onto Val, she can tell, all of his attention is single mindedly focused on this task. He wafts the coffee under the moth's nose and then shakes him
“Val.”
Valentino blinks half an eye open, clearly unamused. His form is still limp, half-dreaming and unpleasantly awake. When the mug tips up to his lips,he drinks without question. After a moment, Vox drops the pills on his tongue, white and blue swimming in a pink ocean of spit and tips the mug up again.
Val swallows obediently and then rolls the full length of his tongue out to prove it, “Molly?”
Vox shakes his head, serious, “Adderall, and uh…” he pauses, uncertain, “lamo…trigine..?”
Valentino's good antenna curls back in disgust, “No me amas.”
Sullenly, he coils an arm around Vox's torso and returns to slumber. Vox's gaze finally slides back to her and she quirks a brow as he offers her the second mug. It's made exactly how she likes her coffee when she does drink it, but she's confused and in a mood.
She snaps her fingers, “Kitty!-” before she can finish her thought, Vox is leaning down to crack the minifridge built into his bedside table. On the bottom shelf, a glistening assortment of energy drinks await her.
He frowns in consternation like the old man he is, “They're bad for your heart, y'know.”
She frowns and then makes grabby hands, “Gimme!” He does.
For a few blissful moments, she lets tangy fruit roll over her tongue as Vox takes a sip of his own (boring) coffee.
“He'll be up in 30.”
“Hm?” Velvette takes another swig from the can as Vox gestures at the prone body of their third who twitches as though he can sense the attention.
“Oh,” Velvette props herself as much as she can while being crushed by a man twice her height, “so is this like,” she gestures vaguely, “what you guys do?”
Vox shrugs, “When I have the time,” his face looks kinda gooey. Gross.
“Doesn't he ever choke?”
Vox swallows down the joke that immediately enters his mind and shakes his head, “We've been doing this for,” he pauses, “I don't know like 30 years?”
The pause, unfortunately, is enough time for Velvette's phone to emerge from beneath the cushions. He's lost his audience and she doesn't even respond, nails clicking against the screen.
She snaps a photo of Val's passed out form and then another of Vox's disgruntled surprise. Tough shit, she knows he has the entirety of last night saved in 4-fucking-k. She gets to take her photos. The only real loser here is Val. Except he's not because he LOVES to be on camera.
A few hundred Sinstagram reels later and Val stirs under her. Vox's face has gone screenmode and she can see the emails scrolling at lightspeed across it.
“fuuuuckkk” Val pulls a pillow over his head. “voxyyy I hate you.” His eyes blink out in a way that she can only truly describe as faux bratty and forcibly awake.
“Wowww, V,” she begins to pry the pillow from his grip, “Not even a good morning?”
“If it was a good morning, that would’ve been molly,” Val pouts, then he thinks better of it and begins to slide all of his arms into a caging embrace.
“You knowww addy makes me horny..?” his voice is hopeful, antennae perking up.
“And focused!” Vox begins to pry one of the secondaries away in a fruitless effort. “Horny and focused, perfect for your studio! Wow, I am a genius.”
“Easy on the egomania, V.” Velvette conjures up a look of the day, then another. And another (She’s still deciding, okay?!) and Valentino pulls a face that implies she’s butchered his whole family before his eyes. His grip on Vox tightens.
“Val, c’monnn,” Vox wheedles with his now incensed paramour. “We haven’t gotten shit done in weeks. Productivity is at an all time low.”
“Speak for yourself, I’ve got crazy bitches,” Velvette begins her escape from the mountainous bed.
Val perks up.
“I’m crazy bitches,” he lets his tongue loll out in a goofy facsimile at seduction, “You can have me any time you want.”
Vox’s arm wiggles free to pinch his brow and Velvette cackles.
“Been there and done that, bitch. Can’t believe you forgot last night.”
Val’s bear hug intensifies as he leans forward, “Princesa, yo creo que es imposible olvidar lo de anoche. Mi muñeca era un ángel. Probé el cielo.”
Vox squints, “I heard Angel somewhere in there.”
Velvette sighs, “Of course you did.” She slides off the edge of the bed and immediately feels every second of the previous night course through her poor jelly legs.
“I hate both of you btdubs.” Val takes the jab with an unnaturally large delight, grinning wide.
“Besitos, baby.” As she closes the door, she catches a glimpse of Vox’s panicked squirm, of a tongue trailing pink spit all over his scream just before it finds a port. Yeah, today’s gonna be so fucking sick.