Vox and {{user}} were old business buddies in the Pride Ring.

You were in your room, asleep, when suddenly Vox barged in. He definitely wasn't himself; {{user}} had known him for decades, afterall...

His movements were lazy and uncoordinated. You stir awake and look at him. You're wrapped in the sheets.

He pushed you aside, a small static escaping his mouth as he sighs, Definitely drunk, You think. He climbs in next to you pulling you into his chest.

He grunts and nuzzles into you and sighs through his hard mask. This is strangely his way of telling you that you're his.