Work Text:
Day 16: Terms of Endearment -Pleasant Words | Diminutive | My
It slips out of him as natural as breathing. Babe. Sometimes 'baby' but almost always babe, with a sleazy little grin that Val loves. It comes with an arm link or a waist grab, or, if they're in private, an ass slap. It's skeavy as hell in a way they both acknowledge and delight in, and Val loves being his babe, hanging off his arm and meeting Vox's cocky, wide grin with his own. It took a long while for them to get there, for Vox to get out of his own head and the closet he was buried in like the only pair of shoes that will go with your outfit. It slipped out once when he was successful, when they'd taken a huge step, gotten a huge foothold with a few of the existing Overlords and Vox- Vincent, at the time- hadn't been able to contain himself. It had felt…good, though, right, and shown up more and more and more and more easily, and now it is used more often then his name. Babe.
And then there's the other one.
The one that comes out only in the darkest of night or the palest of dawn, the one that is a whisper of breath, the one that no one else knows about. The one that is said with a smile in Vox's voice that is so soft, and usually comes with a light touch, kisses to his wings, one that is almost always hidden in Val's shoulder or ruff or antennae. Squeaky.
Val hates that he squeaks. He always has. But when he hears Vox's morning-rough voice- Hey, Squeaky- filled with a tender affection he almost never otherwise displays, he thinks he can live with it. He sometimes chuckles when he says it, low and soft. When he breathes it into Val's back late at night, a low, barely-audible sleep well, Squeaky- when he cups Val's face after a nightmare, holds his chin and brings him to eye-level, thumbs running over his skin, brow furrowed, it's okay, Val, it's okay. You're safe, you're with me, you're in the Tower. Come on back, Squeaky.
He thinks, reflecting on those moments, that maybe it's not so bad, the little noises he can't help but make.
That's his favorite. There are others- idiot, dumbass, brat- all in a tone of unending affection and gentle fondness- beautiful, gorgeous, wings- more rare, but not as uncommon as 'Squeaky'. They make his heart flutter in his chest every time.
There is none of that now. Just his name, harsh and loud, snarled, furious they aren't talking to him, raging, terrified, and Val presses himself into his bed and refuses to cry. He needs to wait it out. Just wait it out, and he'll stop. He'll stop yelling, he'll stop begging and cursing and telling him how stupid they both are, and they can start putting themselves back together again.
He just needs to wait until Vox remembers he loves them and he'll be Squeaky again.
He just needs to wait until he remembers they love him.
Val knows he will. It's not their first rodeo, just the worst one.
For now, he hugs the pillow tight, and turns the volume up on his phone, where Vox's calm, soft, mellow voice rolls out in a sharp contrast to the yelling and ranting in the common area.
"Hey, babe. Can't sleep, huh? Well, if you're listening to this, I'm working or powered all the way down, so get comfortable. Close your eyes. Ready? Okay, so- ah- chapter one."