16. Volt
Volt
Was that your creampuff? Angel asked, still talking with the customer in front of him as he accepted the credit transfer from the man’s watch.
Yeah. Volt blew out a breath, even though his lungs had no need for exhalations. He made himself continue across the lounge, smiling at customers as he passed. He’s coming over.
Angel didn’t reply immediately, a whole two seconds going by.
Unless that’s not okay? Volt added. Do you want me to tell him it’s a bad night? Volt felt like he was being pulled in two directions. He needed his sweet sub like he needed air.
He needed to touch him everywhere, checking that he was unharmed and whole. To figure out what was wrong and make it all better. To be there for his baby when he was overwhelmed and hurting.
But he also didn’t want to leave Angel alone at the door.
They’d just received another nasty letter, and while the content was the usual gibberish about them being depraved, it hit differently knowing that they were definitely being targeted with the false reports.
And they were still no closer to knowing who was behind it all.
Of course not. You’ve been wearing yourself out worrying about him.
That was true. While Wallace worked through the weekend, he’d been following the letter of their agreement, but not the intent.
Somehow, it was even worse when Volt just received a few measly texts to follow the rules and apologies when Wallace couldn’t escape for a midday walk, but it was a far cry from the delightful flow of texts, calls, and photos that he relied on each day while his boy was away.
It was almost worse that Wallace hadn’t broken any rules, because then he’d be able to truly punish him. To get to the bottom of things and take care of his baby like he sensed Wallace needed.
Only now he was worried about Angel, too. Are you sure? he asked.
Angel replied with a burst of static, mixed fondness and annoyance.
Well, fine then. You’ll let me know if you need me? Volt prodded anyway. He knew he was irritating Angel, but he just couldn’t do anything, and he hated it.
I’ll let you know if there’s an actual emergency, Angel conceded. Go get ready for your boy.
I’m fine. He won’t be here for 20 minutes.
Angel sent back a gif of a dazed-looking puppy dog.
Alright, fine. So he’d been standing in the middle of the lounge, looking like he was caught in a glitch.
He really was a mess tonight.
Yeah, maybe I’ll go do that.
He exchanged a few pleasantries as he made his way to the elevator, but once he was inside, away from curious eyes, he let himself collapse against the back wall.
Yeah, he needed his space. He was jittery and distracted, and absolutely itching to get out of his loincloth.
That was another thing that had changed in the past few days.
For years, he’d worn loincloths practically without thinking about it, picking up the scraps of cloth from the endless pile in the laundry room and tucking them around his hips automatically.
Magnolia had suggested he might want to try other clothing when he’d first caught the spark, but it had never made sense to him.
He couldn’t feel too hot or too cold except in truly extreme temperatures, clothes got in the way of his dancing, and it worked well for his job, turning customers’ eyes his way and letting him prepare and clean up from sex with minimal effort.
He’d even told Magnolia once that he liked the way the fabric moved when he walked, letting him feel a bit like he was dancing even when he wasn’t.
Recently, the satiny fabric had started to make his skin crawl.
It just wasn’t… right. And he didn’t have any better words to explain it.
He’d thought about talking with Angel about it, but he’d been distracted enough worrying about Wallace, and now they both had more important things to stress over than why he suddenly hated his loincloths.
Either way, he was happy to head up to the third floor, say a quick goodnight to Magnolia, who was watching a show from her bed, and get the dreadful thing off his body.
Now, what to wear?
Cozy pajamas to cuddle his sweet girl? Black leather to get his naughty boy riled up?
He kept sweeping through his closet and finally landed on… a sweater. A navy blue sweater and a pair of classic blue jeans. None of which made any sense, but he was too distracted to think through it any more or fight it.
According to Angel, humans did stuff like this all the time.
At least the sweater was soft. Wallace would probably like it.
Fully dressed, he sent an order down to the chefbot and went to the kitchen to wait.
He was sure that his sweet sub hadn’t been eating enough, and he’d managed to discover that Wallace had a fondness for brownies and chocolate ice cream after a hard day.
With the chefbot set to make a single brownie serving in a ramekin, it would be ready just as Wallace arrived.
In the meantime, Volt checked every security camera, door, and window in the building, adding another layer of alarms to alert him to any abnormal activity.
When Wallace’s car finally made it down the back alley, he was already waiting outside.
Wallace stumbled out of the vehicle, and even in the shadowy light, Volt could see the bags under his eyes. His usually trim goatee had merged in with several days of scruff, and his dark hair was wild and unkempt.
That was about how Volt felt inside.
They ran to each other at the same time.
“Daddy?” Wallace asked, as much a wail as a word.
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” Volt soothed.
It felt magical to have Wallace safe in his arms again. To finally, finally be able to do something. He’d needed this more than he could say.
Wallace buried his face in Volt’s neck, and didn’t that just make his heart soar?
He picked Wallace up, eliciting the signature squeak, and carried his sweet sub into the kitchen.
“Brownies?” Wallace asked, finally looking up with a wan smile.
Volt just had to kiss him. “Of course, baby. I want to take care of you.”
Wallace’s face fell. “Thank you. Uh, maybe not tonight? I’m not hungry.”
Volt hadn’t been expecting that. But if Wallace needed something else, he could provide it.
With a quick mental command to the chefbot cancelling the order and a sweep of the building’s cameras for privacy, he pivoted, walking them down the corridor and into the waiting elevator.
Wallace clung to him, a solid weight that he would happily carry anywhere. He inhaled, filling his nose with Wallace’s scent. Automatically, he analyzed it—stress hormones and exhaustion, but underneath that, his clean, darling creampuff, still a little damp from the shower.
Wallace didn’t even open his eyes, nuzzling into Volt’s neck so sweetly and tipping his face up for soft, breathy kisses in the elevator.
Volt couldn’t even bear to be parted when they got to his room, so instead he sat down on the bed, bringing Wallace with him, their bodies pressed together in every way.
“What is it, baby?” Volt asked. “Tell Daddy all about it.”
Wallace shook his head, his expression too complex for Volt to read.
“You don’t want to tell me, or you’re not allowed?” Volt asked, grasping for information. Was Wallace pulling away from him?
A good Daddy should be there for his boy, but maybe he hadn’t earned that yet.
Wallace shrugged. Then, when Volt just kept watching him, he finally spoke. “I did something bad. But I didn’t mean to. And I signed a non-disclosure. So I can’t… I’m not… Please, Daddy. Can I just be here with you right now?” A single, beautiful tear slid down his cheek.
Volt’s heart felt like it was cracking and mending all at once.
His boy needed him. “Of course, creampuff. Just you and me. Daddy will make it better.” His mind was already filtering through options.
A spanking for absolution and release? A night of pampering and cuddles?
He wanted nothing more than to figure out what his baby needed and give it to him.
“But what about you, Daddy?” Wallace asked.
“Me?” Volt truly didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Something went wrong. When we were on the phone.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Volt’s anxiety had calmed the moment he had a luscious bundle of sub in his arms, but it was still there, bubbling under the surface.
The note. The patterns. The failing finances and everything behind them.
The very real fear that things could get worse.
But the last thing Wallace needed, especially when he was already upset, was to be burdened by Volt’s concerns.
“It wasn’t nothing,” Wallace pressed. Then he sighed and looked down, almost collapsing in on himself. “But you don’t have to tell me about it.”
It took Volt a moment to put all of the pieces together. Was Wallace… upset that Volt wasn’t telling him about all of his issues? It hardly made sense. Volt was supposed to be his Daddy. His happy place. An escape from all of life’s worries.
But maybe Wallace wasn’t asking as a sub, but as a boyfriend. Maybe this wasn’t about pleasure as it was about trust.
“We got another nasty letter today,” Volt said carefully, watching Wallace for clues.
“Is that common?” Wallace asked. He looked a little worried now, but he’d perked up. “And were they threatening you or anything?”
Volt gave a little shrug. There was some relief in telling Wallace, in having someone to share this with, but he didn’t want to go off the deep end.
“They’re fairly common,” he answered the first question without mentioning that common for them apparently wasn’t normal for anyone else.
“And they’re not threatening in any specific way. ”
“Kind of a generic you’ll burn in hell, you dirty sinners type of way?” Wallace surmised.
“More or less.”
“Well, that’s all bullshit,” Wallace announced stoutly. “You’re the best Daddy anyone could ask for, Angel and Magnolia are amazing, and what you’re doing is… It’s noble, is what it is. It’s a beautiful thing, really.”