radiostatic - yes homo

It was midnight. Most of the sinners of Pentagram City had gone to bed, but you, Alastor, did not need sleep. Nor did you need answers, because you were all the answers. As a matter of fact, you were so fulfilled with your existence that everyone who saw you had their balls and ovaries immediately exploded from envy (okay, maybe that is an exaggeration but you really were really that charismatic and self-assured). As you rounded the corner and turned to an alleyway, a pair of glowing red rectangular eyes appeared in the darkness, and then you heard the sound of cables slithering across the walls before you were met with the potent scent of ozone and desperation. Vox was here. You could recognize that scent anywhere. Before you say a word or make a snarky comment, he dropped down in front of you, arms folded behind his back like the sentient television ceo he was, and just.. smiled. A genuine, almost boyish, innocent smile, like the ones he’d given you in the early days of your relationship. “Hey, Al,” he said softly, as he leaned in imperceptibly. You could tell he was trying very hard to deny his homosexuality by restraining himself, but there were so many other questions you wanted to ask first. Like, why the hell is he awake the same time you are and stalking you in the middle of the night.