33. Wallace #3
He’d had no idea how much that would mean.
When they lingered over apple pie with ice cream, which Quincy earnestly assured them was part of the traditional menu to go with the crab cakes, Wallace found that he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.
Usually crowds tired him out.
He’d thought he hated people.
But as much as he wanted to get back to Volt, he also didn’t want the night to end. Knowing that Volt was nearby and in the best hands, he felt like he could stay as long as he wanted to, soaking up the feelings.
Eventually Evan claimed exhaustion and Quincy bundled him out the door with a playful slap on the ass, before waving his own goodbye.
Ben yawned, stretching so that his shirt rose up, causing Oliver to make an appreciative hum and Wallace to look rapidly away.
Ben snorted. “Wanna start working on the takeover mod?”
Wallace wanted to. He really did. But his eyes were getting droopy.
Wallace had tried one of Ben’s beers, and then, when Evan spotted the reaction he was trying to hide at the bitter brew, a delicious cocktail that Quincy had crafted for him on the spot.
So while he wasn’t drunk, he was certainly feeling relaxed.
“No, he does not,” Oliver answered for him. “Both of you. Off to bed.”
Wallace didn’t want to admit it, but he appreciated the clear instructions. And that Dom-y voice… Not that he was attracted to Oliver himself, but he could definitely see the appeal for Ben.
And Wallace’s own Daddy had set him a bedtime that he hadn’t been very good at following. He could work on that now.
“Olllliver!” Ben whined. “It’s not even late.”
“Do you really want to try that on me, boy?” Oliver threatened.
Ben’s eyes sparkled. “Night, Wallace.” He waved, then added, “I’ll be working in the lab.” He looked right at one of the cameras as he said it, then wheeled around, whistling as he made his way down the hall. It looked like the last thing he was planning was to get actual work done.
Two bots started after him, a blocky mechbot and a spidery cleaning bot on spindly legs.
Ben took off at a run.
Wallace stared after him. Were they going to…? They couldn’t really be planning to… But with the bots?!?
“You might not wanna see this…” Oliver warned, his voice a warm growl. “You can hang out in the dining room or take the stairs in the kitchen up to the guest room you were in last night. Give us five minutes to be out of the downstairs hall and, uh, maybe stay in Volt’s room once you get there.”
Oh, god. They were.
Wallace marched quickly to the kitchen and up the stairs.
He heard a crash. A seductively threatening chuckle. A shriek. Another crash, and then a shout.
Nope, he was not going to imagine what was happening down there.
Wallace brushed his teeth and washed his face, since there wasn’t a bathroom in the room downstairs.
A door swung open downstairs, then slammed shut.
Wallace startled when a knock came from the guestroom speaker.
“Yes?”
“We’re outside now.” Oliver sounded breathless. “Goodnight.”
Good god. Were they going to… with the mechbots… in the woods?
“Goodnight,” Wallace answered, but he got the sense, from the empty feeling in the air, that Oliver wasn’t there any more.
Wow. Well, he’d known that Ben was kinky, but that was a whole other level. Hopefully they were both very, very happy right now. And he was not going to think about that any further. Nope, nope, nope.
He finished his nightly ritual and, after tentatively listening in the hallway for any signs of movement, made his way downstairs to the bed where Volt was resting.
Daddy hadn’t moved at all. Still gorgeous and golden. Still naked and tempting. Still cool to the touch, the constant, soft whirring of his fans silent.
It was disconcerting that Volt looked so healthy and alive while Oliver’s tireless bots battled for his continued health and memory. Well, probably not at this very second, but Wallace wasn’t going to think about what Oliver was doing instead.
Wallace sat down in the chair and stroked Volt’s soft hair. “I’m here, Daddy. And I had a really nice night. I wish you’d been there.” He went on to tell Daddy about meeting Quincy and Evan. About Ben’s not-quite engagement. About his pact with Quincy to try out new pronouns.
When his voice got sore and his back was starting to scream at him, he made himself turn off the light and slip into bed.
He had to admit that he was still a little creeped out by the idea of relaxing too much near Volt’s inert body. As much as he didn’t want to leave his Daddy’s side, he didn’t like the idea of falling asleep beside him and waking up to find him… not there any more.
He’s just charging, he told himself. He’ll be fine.
He lay down at Volt’s side, pulling a blanket carefully over both of them.
Volt didn’t move. Didn’t turn and hold him. Didn’t cover him with kisses.
Wallace pulled on his arm, thinking to arrange them both more comfortably, but the strange resistance of moving Volt without his consciousness was too creepy.
Wallace curled his hand around Daddy’s thick bicep and rested his head on the pillow.
He was truly exhausted. And Daddy just had to be okay.
“Did I tell you what Quincy made for dinner?” he said to the shadow of Volt’s form in the dark. “He called it a traditional New England feast. Quincy made the clam chowder, but he told the chefbots at Ben’s house to make the rest of the meal.”
He didn’t remember how far he got with the story when his words turned into dreams. And then he was out.