Brunch With The Overlords

The Vees (Part 1) - Slow Morning

Valentino awoke with a heavy thudding of pain in his eyelids, his chest forcing out a groan as he rolled over to find Velvette looking down at him, her lips pursed inwards as she exhaled impatiently through her nose.
"Fuckin' Christ, Velvette!" Val exclaimed tiredly, his top set of arms pulling his blanket over his head while his extra arms stuck out of the covers, middle fingers up.
"It's past 11," Velvette spat, seeming to ignore Val's immature gesture as she turned her attention back to her cellphone, her finger quickly swiping up and down the screen with precision. "Are you too hungover to remember today's plans?"
"Bitch, I don't even know what today is," Val responded, emerging from the blankets and rubbing his eyes, hoping it would erase the pain. He opened them again to find Velvette's phone screen shoved in his face. The bright light briefly doubled his vision before he squinted to read "Brunch at 11:30" typed into the calendar.
"Velvette," Val sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed opposite her, "when you have a whole ass week of porn shooting, you don't really care about checking your goddamn calendar."
"And... whose fault is it that your schedule is overbooked?" Velvette shot back, her accent upturning the end of her sentence in a more percussive manner. "The answer is you, Valentino, not Angel Dust," she added before he could reply.
Val growled childishly and got up, heading towards his vanity.
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" he chuckled through a strained rasp in his throat.
"Likewise," Velvette replied, her eyes momentarily flicking up from her phone to lock with Val's in the mirror. She half-smiled as if to say, no hard feelings, dumbass.
A tired tch escaped Val's pointed teeth as he smiled back, his gaze soon shifting to the arsenal of makeup and accessories in cluttered stacks across the vanity. The quickly fading clacks of high heels signaled that Velvette had left the room to make a call.
As her manicured fingers swiped and tapped—almost as if dancing atop the screen—she yelled to Val.
"Could you wake up Vox while I call the limo?"
Val's eyebrows furrowed in a confused squiggle.
"He's still asleep?" he asked as he tapped his cheeks with a lavender powder puff.
"He was when I checked. Soon as I saw the screens, I got the hell out of there."
"Fuck." The word slipped through Val's lips without his permission.
"Yeah, I figured you could deal with it," Velvette shouted. She kept talking, but her attention seemed to be directed to whoever she was on the phone with now.
Val got up from the vanity, his flowy wings beginning to wrap around him—forming his long, red coat with fur lining the edges. He made his way to Vox's surveillance room, treading lighter with each step.
The door gave a soft, low moan as Val opened it ever so slowly, his headache returning at the bright light of the screens that filled the room.
Each screen furthered his stunned silence as he walked towards the center of the room.
Vox sat slumped forward in his chair, the countless cords plugged into the back of his head resembling ivy that had come to overtake a long-dead tree.
Each cord twisted about the room to connect to its respective screen—which showcased a variety of dreams.
"Fuck," Val said again, his eyes darting around as he noticed Alastor looming dangerously in the background of every single screen.
Carefully, Val maneuvered around the thicket of cords and gently placed his hands on Vox's shoulders.
"Honey," he started sweetly, "it's time to wake up."
A shock radiated through Val's arms as Vox twitched awake with a gasp.
"Shit," Val cursed sharply, his arms tensing.
The cords slunk away one by one as Vox straightened his posture slightly, his head turning towards the source of the cursing.
"Oh, Val," Vox sighed, sounding a little relieved, his voice shaking with desperation.
"Vox, darling," Val crooned as he started to massage Vox's tense shoulders, "you're worrying too much about Alastor right now. I hate to see you like this. I'd rather you sleep with me than torture yourself every night."
Vox's eyes stared downwards, seeming to rapidly look back and forth between his two jittery knees.
"I didn't want to bother you last night," he half-lied. "You'd had a long shoot and I would have kept you up with my anxious tossing and turning."
"Do you think I give a shit?" Val laughed coldly.
"It's just—"
"No," Val interrupted. "None of that. No more excuses. This isn't good for you. You need to get your mind off this rivalry for once in your goddamn life."
"You don't understand, I'm so close!" Val could hear the forced confidence in Vox's tone. He shook his head with a tsk, tsk, tsk of his tongue.
"You are going to spend a day away from this room," Val demanded in a parent-like tone. "Just one day. Vox, give me just one fucking day. Then, you can spy on Alastor all you want. And no more sleeping in here for a while. We'll move a charging cord to my room."
"But—"
"Before you even think to say no to the first part, Velvette's already set on brunch for today, so you have no choice. And don't think I won't turn off the cameras in here. I'm not letting you sneak in by teleporting or any of that shit."
Vox protested with a glitchy overlay in his voice as Val took his hand and half-dragged him out of the room, locking the door behind him.
"Calm down, you big baby," Val murmured, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, Val, please!"
"You know I love it when you beg, but that's not gonna work on me today, sweetie."
Vox squirmed as Val helped him get his jacket on with a slightly frantic pace—he didn't want to keep Velvette waiting for too much longer.