Work Text:
It's hot in Miami. It's always hot in Miami.
But the heat is all Val knows, so he doesn't mind.
His aunties sure do. They sit on the porch, sweating buckets while they push cold soda bottles into their skin.
Still, Val doesn't care, their background noise--like the radio.
The radios playing some slow Spanish song, the kind of thing his Mama likes. He doesn't care about that either.
Val cares about the sidewalk, about his work.
With excessive intent Val grinds the chalk into the concrete, working a crooked flower into the pavement.
His fingers and face are thick with chalkdust. It itches, but he doesn't dare stop. The work, the work comes first.
His pink chalk has been ground down to a stub, causing the tips of Val's fingers to scrape the sharp asphalt every once and a while.
This is his fourth pink chalk today.
This is not his fourth flower.
This is his forty-fifth flower--not that he would know. He can't count that high yet.
The road is covered in scribbles. Some have shape-- impressions of people or trees, others are just lines. All of it is his.
"Changuito!" At the sound of his mothers voice Val looks up. With a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, Val's mother waves at him from the doorway. "You've been out here since eight!" She scolds, her accent thick. "Come eat."
"Ma!" Val whines, motioning to the flower in front of him.
"Enough, mijo. Now." With that she turns around and heads back into the house.
A groan so loud his all aunties have to pause their conversation to listen leaves Val. "la odio!" He grumbles before throwing his nub of chalk onto the ground.
"Ey, you don't mean that." One of his aunties chides as he walks past.
He keeps quiet, but his face clearly disagrees.
Knowing a lost cause when they see one, his aunties let him go inside.
Once Val has disappeared into the house one of his aunties giggles. "What a silly boy."
"Ey." Another auntie responds. "He'll understand when he has kids."
...
"What is that thing?" They were all thinking it, but Velvette was the only one who said it.
Sitting there, drooling on a stack of very important paperwork, sat the thing.
It was fat and small with huge eyes. The slugs' demonic gimmick seemed to be a rolly polly type deal, not very sexy.
"Ethan!" Vox yells.
Val sighs. This is supposed to be his day off.
He came into Vox's office to bother him while he did his work or whatever.
It was gonna be awesome, he had this whole plan about being a sexy secretary and getting the absoute shit fucked out of him.
But no, instead god decide to fuck Val. That guy is obsessed with him.
Ethan scurries in. When Vox dies, Val is so making that little twink a star.
"Yes, sir?" He stammers.
"What the fuck is that?" All agro and sparky Vox throws an accusatory finger toward the thing.
Adjusting his glasses, Ethan looks over. His face twists into one of his think-y faces. "I believe that is an... infant sir."
"I know that Ethan!" Vox yelps. "I'm not stupid!" That thing was a baby? Who knew! Val squinted at it and adjusted his glasses. Huh.
Val begins to move forward to get a closer look.
"But why is it here?" As Val creeps closer to the thing Vox continues his bitch fit.
"It's ugly." The sound of a camera flashing follows Velvette's snarky comment.
She's right, the thing is fugly. It's all pink and dewy. If Val was this baby, he would kill himself.
Out of morbid curiosity, Val sticks his hand out. As if on command, the thing wraps a grubby little finger around his thumb.
"Hi, Changuito..." Val mutters, also on command.
It coos and Val smiles.
In the background Vox continues to yell abuse at Ethan, but Val could care less.
It’s been a while since Val felt a sense of awe. Hell has desensitized him to feats of physical daring, and time had hardened him to the passing beauties of life.
But this, this is new. This is a baby.
Val hasn't seen a baby in over fifty years.
Val leans closer, causing the thing to giggle.
A baby's hands are soft, really soft. When something is that soft, that thin you can't help but feel like one wrong move will tear the whole thing apart.
Val stands as still as he can, staring down at the child in front of him. "...You want uppies?" Val mutters quietly.
No response comes.
Val decides the thing probably wants uppies. Vox's desk isn't all that comfortable to lay in, Val would know.
Carefully, Val scoops the little critter up into his arms.
Seemingly happy with the change the baby leans to Val's chest. Val giggles at the sensation. "Better than the desk?"
An incoherent babble comes from below.
"Val, what the fuck are you doing?" Velvette's voice comes from behind him.
Worried that turning around would freak the baby, Val stayed turned away from her. "Saying hi to the baby." He coos.
"You mean the creature."
"Don't be such a cunt." Val added, his voice ebbing into a sort of baby voice at the end, his finger tickling the critter's nose. "No one will fuck you if your such a huge cunt all the time, Vel.” It giggled again. Val smiled down at them. "Isn't that right?" The baby, Val decides, agrees.
"Vox!" Velvette yells. Oh right, she gets all up in her pussy about that word.
"What?" Automatically Vox whipped around. Jesus, what's got him all revved up today? Val's gonna have to figure that one out so he can exploit it.
Seeing an opening, Ethan rushes out of the room. Smart man. He's gonna do wonderfully on camera.
"Val's losing his bloody mind." Ew, British. Val makes a silly face at the baby to make up for it.
A moment of silence passed, but Val still doesn't care.
Slowly, he started to rock the baby back and forth. It's hard seeing as he's all bony and long, but he tries his best to make it comfortable.
"Valentino, what are you doing?" Vox asked in his Big Man voice. Oh, maybe that's what has his panties in a twist: some sorta power play thing. Val could totally work with that.
"Saying hi to the baby." Val repeated. God, these people are slow. He just wants to say hi. What's wrong with that? Sure, the things ugly, but it's only a baby. For all they know this thing could be a total smoke show later in life.
More silence.
"What if I said this was kinda doing it for me?" Vox blurts out.
"OH MY GOD! YOU ARE SO FUCKING GROSS!" Velvette screams. As expected, the baby started to cry.
What a cunt! Val warned her.
Val gasps before leaning down to kiss the baby on the forehead. "Oh, shhhh, shhhhh." As the words left his mouth, he realized this voice had switched a registry.
He sounds like his mama.
His shoulders relaxed as the baby's wails began to calm down.
"Shhh, shhhh."
Velvette and Vox are doing something.
Val doesn't care.
The baby, the work, matters.
"You're okay, that British slut can't get to you now." Val coos, brushing the baby's head. "You're alright, yes you are..."
The baby calms down a little bit more, but itty bitty tears still continue to roll down its puffy cheeks.
Swaying his whole body, Val begins to hum a song. He doesn't know the name of the song. It’s some slow Spanish song, the kind he likes from the radio.
"Should we get someone to take care of it?" Velvette asks.
"'There daycares in Hell?" Val's ninety percent sure there are, but he's not gonna tell Vox that. Not yet.
"Bet they cost a fortune." If Val had to guess he'd say the number of kids that survive Hell are low, and the number of those kids with a parental figure willing to pay for daycare must be even slimmer.
They could give the little shit to one of their employees, but that would mean paying overtime.
Plus having an overlord hand one of their employees a baby would be a surefire way to start a string of nasty rumors.
"We could always just shoot it." Vox mutters.
Instinctively Val grips the bundle of scales closer to his chest. "Excuse me?!"
Vox looks like he's just been caught with his fingers in the pie. Oh, that's a hot image. Val'll stock that away for later.
"What? We shoot problems all the time." The worse part is, he's right.
Still.
"You heartless gilipollas!" He whisper-yells, stocking away. "This is a defenseless baby."
"What the fuck." Velevette mutters in the background.
"Okay, fine." A familiar sigh comes from behind Val. What a wonderful sound Vox's defeated sighs are, they mean he's about to get his way. "I can see where this is going. You can play mommy for the day if you want Val, I don't care."
"Like you had any say in the matter." He tuts back with a smile.
"Discusting." Both men roll their eyes at Vel.
The other two retreat back to their various tasks, leaving Val alone with the baby.
Soft skin brushes up against his chest as the little thing curls around to face him.
He could work with this. Not the worst way to spend a day off.
...
Babies like milk. Val remembers that much. As soon as he gets back to his penthouse he sends Travis out to get some baby juice.
The little creature doesn't seem hungry yet. She was crying earlier but Val put on some music which seemed to mellow her out. Yes, she. He checked.
Still, if Val learned anything from his baby sisters, it's that this calm wasn't gonna last long.
Val decided the little freaks name is Mimi, because she kept spitting out gibberish that sounded a lot like mimi.
"Where is that cumdumpster, huh?" He coos at the baby. "Where is he?"
Mimi has nothing to add. Val sighs, gently setting her down on the couch.
"He never does anything on time, if you're wondering." Talking to himself isn't something he usually does, but with the baby here he's got plausible deniability.
"Don't know why I keep him around." Val pulls his dress off. Leather looks stunning on him, but it can't be too comfortable for the baby.
"Do like his laugh though. Travis makes this ridiculous owl sound. Hoo! Hoo!" Mimi laughs.
Val pushes his closet open, smiling to himself. "You like that? Hoo! Hoo!" Another giggle bubbles up from behind him.
"Hoo! Hoo!" Val repeats, turning around to march toward Mimi. "Hoo! Hoo!" Mimi begins to hoot and holler to herself when Val begins to tickle her belly. "Hoo! Hoo!"
"Uh, sir?" Speak of the Devil. Val turns around to see Travis standing in the doorway, a scared expression plastered on his face.
"Did you get what I asked for?" Val commands, rising above Mimi.
"Oh! Yeah." Travis stumbles out, clumsily handing Val a bottle.
Val inspects the glass before looking up at Travis.
His eyes are to the side. That's weird, didn't Val demand eye contact at all--
Oh.
"Grow up." Val snaps, slapping the side of Travis face lightly before turning around and heading back to the couch.
"Oh course sir, yes sir." Travis grumbles out, his eyes hesitantly gliding back to Val's naked body.
At the sight of Val returning to her, Mimi's eyes light up. "Hi little lady." Crouching isn't something Val's particularly fond of, but he'll do it for his little lady.
As he uncaps the bottle, he sighs. "Travis." He starts dangerously. "Why don't you go busy yourself somewhere else?"
"Yes Sir!" Panic fills Travis's voice as he scurries off. "Sorry."
Val rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the baby.
It doesn't take much for her to latch onto the bottle. Her cheeks fill up as she sucks, grubby little hands trying to grip the bottle.
It's Val's turn to laugh. "You are so cute I could just eat you up!" After it seems Mimi's had her fill Val pulls the bottle away and heads back to the closet.
As soon as his eyes catch on the item he’s looking for his eyes to perk up. "Ah! There you are." In one fluid motion Val pulls his baby pink fur robe over his shoulders.
Seeing the outfit change, Mimi babbles her approval.
"You like?" Val asks with a smile.
In another fluid motion Val picks the sweet thing up. Turns out Val was right, as soon as Mimi feels the softness of Val's robe she curls up into his chest.
"Aw."
The world is quiet for a moment. Too quiet.
This isn't the kind of thing he does, he's acutely aware of that.
There's almost a shame in enjoying the anomaly.
But the baby doesn't know that. The baby is happy.
That's all that matters.
At least for today.
...
"Honey I'm home." Vox yells out mockingly.
"Don't be so loud!" Val whispers back to him from the other room.
The whole house smells like milk. Seems Val really took the whole housewife thing seriously.
Vox smiles to himself before rounding the corner. He bets Val is in some tight dress, all done up and americana-esk.
He’s rubbing his hand deviously as he rounds the corner. Like clockwork, his hands fall to his sides when he sees Val.
The scene in front of him doesn’t look real.
Soft light soaks Val’s pale purple shoulders. A soft shapeless gown covers his body. He’s sitting folded in on himself on the couch, the baby is held in his arms. Every move Val makes is gentle, careful.
And his face, god his face.
His eyes are turned down, glossy and kind. The curve of his lips are unintentionally, resting in a small but genuine smile.
Val looks human.
When Val turns to look at him his smile doesn’t go away.
“Come Voxxie, don’t be shy.”
Right, this is silly. Vox clears his throat from the doorway and makes his way to the couch.
“Smells like milk in here.” He mutters, his eye falling to the baby as he slides in next to Val. It’s hard not to look at the thing. Framed in Val gentle grasp, it looks angelic.
“Gah!” Val whispers-yells with a soft chuckle. “Don’t get me started. That mangy owl–”
“Travis?” Vox interrupted, his eyes moving back to Val’s face. He can’t stay away from Val for too long, especially when he looks like this.
Val makes a face. “Yes. Spilled the shit all over the nice carpet.” Softly shaking his head, Val continues. “I swear, I might just make him live in a nest for a while.”
Vox chuckles, sliding his jacket off carefully, trying to rock the couch too much. “Why not just shoot him.”
“He does my taxes.” Val mumbles with a gentle nudge to Vox’s shoulder. God right, taxes. They're mandatory every week in Hell for obvious reasons--it's hell.
“We can get people to do that for you.” Vox implores, jumping at a chance to provide for Val.
A wider smile graces Val’s lips. “Yes, but I like the way he does it.”
“It’s taxes, how special can it be?”
“You just don’t get it.”
Vox rolls his eyes, but lets it go. Val gets attached to things sometimes, it’s best to let it run its course.
Speaking of. “How’s this little thing been?” Vox asks as he begins to loosen his tie.
“Oh, very good.” Val coos, brushing the sleeping thing’s tiny nose.
Throwing an arm around Val, Vox smiles down at it too. “Wouldn’t take you for a good father but, hell, here we are.”
“It’s only temporary.” Val says, mostly to himself.
Vox nods, leaning his head into Val’s. “Isn’t everything?”
They're silent for a few moments before Val speaks again.
His voice comes out odd, soft and weak. “You think there's a world out there where God was good to us?”
Vox pulls his head away and makes a face. “What?”
Val shakes his head. “Nevermind, doesn’t matter.”
Vox gives him a look for a moment, but decides he doesn’t wanna know.
His tie loose and his eyes heavy he decides he doesn’t care about those other worlds.
This moment, this second of abnormality is what matters.
It is the work that matters.