Work Text:
It was dangerous for Volt to have access to the internet.
You should’ve known. You should’ve known something was amiss when he had brought it up last week, when he had given you that look of ignorance, of innocence, and had asked you to explain what the deal was with the “gray sweatpants” meme he had run across online. Because the thing was, Volt didn’t particularly care about memes. He and Eddie were both old—and old-fashioned. When you and Mac had tried to introduce them to meme culture, they had just given you blank stares. So why did he suddenly care to understand this particular meme? And how the fuck had he run across it in the first place?
But you hadn’t questioned it, had just taken his curiosity at face value, had explained it with rosy cheeks and tried to change the subject.
And now, here you were.
Volt had taken the day off. At the moment, there wasn’t anything pressing for him to do with the house that he and Eddie were renovating, and Eddie planned to be back home by the early afternoon at the latest, so Volt decided it was a good day to keep you company while you worked from home—or, at least, that’s what he had told you when you two were laying in bed together that morning, waking up in the gentle glow of the sun through the curtains, playing with each other’s hair and exchanging sleepy kisses. He had just wanted to share space with you, he’d said. He had just wanted to be around you.
You were rapidly realising, though, that his explanation might not have been fully true.
Because apparently, he had bought a pair of light gray fitted sweatpants. And he was now parading around your house in nothing else.
You had wanted to get a jump on your tasks for the day, so you had already settled down at your desk by the time you had even heard him roll out of bed. It wasn’t long, though, until he had traipsed down to the kitchen, where you’d heard him puttering around for a few minutes before he’d suddenly appeared in the doorway to your office with your favourite mug in hand. You had had to do a double-take, eyes not quite believing what they were seeing: Volt’s muscular torso on display, those stupid trousers—slung low on his body to show the most provocative hint of his happy trail and the V of his hips—plastered to his thighs, clinging to his bulge in a way that left virtually nothing to the imagination. It was enough to make your mouth dry up.
Your fluster just brought a smirk to his lips. “Tea, darling?”
For a moment, you could only blink at him. When your mind finally recovered, though, you breathed, “Volt, what the fuck are you wearing?”
The mirth in his dismissive laugh grated on you. “Come now, live wire. Do you really mean to tell me you’ve never seen a pair of joggers before?” he teased, cocking his hip.
You huffed. Through your mind’s sudden haze, the best response you could summon was an unconvincing “shut up.”
He just chuckled at you. “As you wish. I’ll just leave this with you, then.” And with that, he strode in to set the mug on your desk, your eyes incapable of leaving his crotch with the movement, before he turned back around, perky ass equally on display, and left the way he’d come.
Your spine melted as you slumped into your chair, throwing your head back in a frustrated sigh. It was going to make it infinitely harder for you to get any work done today knowing that on the other side of the wall, Volt was walking around looking like that.
Because goddammit, there was a reason it had become an internet meme. He looked distractingly good. They were tight enough to be practically plastered to his strong thighs and round ass and, most tantalisingly, his cock. You found it impossible to look at him without your eyes being drawn to his bulge, what with the way those stupid trousers were cradling him. It was fucking ridiculous.
Sure, you were doing freelance work these days, and sure, you had a full two weeks to finish your current project—which you were far ahead of schedule on, anyway. It probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal to succumb to his allure. But it was the principle of the matter. You were supposed to be working. You didn’t have time to drool over your annoyingly hot boyfriend. Even if he did look like a modern incarnation of one of those Greek heroes whose statues you’d seen and ogled in art museums. Fuck.
You refused to let him get to you.
He certainly tried his best, though.
His excuses were entirely fabricated, but he kept coming up with reasons to check in with you throughout the morning—to refill your water bottle, to deliver you snacks, at one point to rub the tension from your shoulders, fuck—and every glimpse of him made your mouth fucking water. Each interruption pulled your attention further and further away from your work.
When you finally broke down, Volt was standing beside and slightly behind you, bulge filling your peripheral vision. “My darling,” he commented, looking at your computer monitor over your shoulder, “you haven’t written a single word since I last checked in with you. Are you quite alright? Or has something else captured your attention, perhaps?”
You turned your chair to face him, bringing you face-to-face with the impression of his soft cock through those fucking sweatpants. Your eyes followed the platinum of his happy trail, a perfect arrow to his defined abs, his firm pecs, his prominent collarbones, all the way up to the self-satisfied smirk he wore. Oh, you were done.
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. “Bedroom. Now.”
At least he had enough sense left to listen without argument.
You were right behind him as he climbed the stairs, admiring the way his ass looked in the tight fabric. You couldn’t resist giving it a playful smack, delighting in the way it made him gasp in surprise, stopping dead in his tracks, looking back at you over his shoulder with a pretty pink blush painting his cheekbones.
Your smile was downright predatory. “Something wrong, Volt?”
He just blinked at you for a moment, shaking his head a little as he continued his ascent.
At the side of your bed, he turned around to face you. You just gave his chest a gentle shove, sending him falling onto his back, landing perpendicular across the mattress.
You gave him no time to acclimate, immediately crouching between his knees where they dangled over the edge of the bed and pressing your lips to his tip through the fabric of his trousers. It made him suck in a hitched breath, eyes fluttering shut as he propped himself up on his elbows to see you. “Live wire…” he sighed.
You chuckled against him, meeting his eyes. “Awww, flustered already, baby?” you cooed. “But you were so confident a moment ago.”
His lips parted to reply, but you chose that moment to suck the head of his cock into your mouth, wetting him through his joggers, tracing around his foreskin with the tip of your tongue, feeling him shiver from the sensation. Whatever he was going to say turned into a yelp and a shudder, his hand coming down to pet your hair. Again, though, he knew better than to push you, letting you maintain whatever pace you wished.
You took your time teasing him, lapping over the crotch of his trousers, feeling him grow under your tongue while the fabric grew wet beneath your cheek. Every sound he made brought heat you your core—the way he whimpered when you sucked at the side of his shaft, whined when you brought your hand up to cup his balls, moaned out a broken fuck when you ran your tongue through his slit. The rare curse made your cunt drip.
By the time you pulled away, it was more than your spit that was seeping through his joggers, his erection visibly jumping where it tented the cloth. He hissed in a breath when your fingers brushed over his hip bones to slide beneath his waistband, tugging it down inch by inch, tauntingly slow, appreciating every minute twitch of his length as the elastic dragged over it to reveal the well-groomed curls at his base, the veins on his shaft, the way the friction pulled his foreskin back down over his head, until finally he was freed. His heavy cock landed against his abs with an audible smack, a thick string of precum suspended between his slit and his trousers, thinning as you continued to remove his bottoms until it finally snapped, leaving a shining trail down his strong thigh.
Gorgeous. He was absolutely gorgeous.
Again, your mind conjured images of the statues of Greek gods and heroes that you’d seen in art museums over the years, the ones you’d found so distracting with their perfectly-chiselled muscles, their cute soft cocks immortalised in marble. Now, sitting between the legs of the real thing, his flesh-and-blood body trembling for you, cock hard for you… well, it was difficult not to let it go to your head, to think, this man is the spitting image of male beauty, the model for some of the oldest, most renowned art in the West, and his cock is dripping for me.
All because of some stupid fucking sweatpants.
You rose to your feet to climb onto the bed, settling over him with your knees bracketing his hips, your clothed core hovering just close enough to his cock that it bumped your clit when it twitched in response, making you gasp in a breath. You planted your elbows on the mattress on either side of his head, leaning down to brush your lips against his ear. “I’m gonna ride you,” you declared, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, making him quiver underneath you. “I’m gonna ride you so hard you see stars, make it impossible for you to think about anything but me, anything but how good my cunt feels around your cock, how much you want to finish inside me. And then when I’m ready—and only when I’m ready—I’m gonna let you fill me up, let you leave me dripping with your cum.” You paused to lick over his jugular. “Sound good, baby?”
The half-whimper, half-moan he let out was utterly pathetic. His trembling hands came to grasp at your waist in a desperate attempt to cling to sanity. “Fuck, please. Please, live wire, yes.”
You pressed a kiss to his lips. “How’s about you get me outta these clothes, then?”
Volt was slow and deliberate in how he peeled your shirt from your torso, hands sliding up your sides as he did so, looking up at you reverently through his half-lidded eyes. His thumbs brushed over your ribs on their way back down to your waistband, bringing goosebumps to your skin. With a little shuffling, the two of you managed to drag the fabric off your legs, letting it drop gently to the floor before his hands came to cradle the small of your back, rubbing soothing lines up to your shoulder blades and back down. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful, my spark.”
You leaned in to kiss him again, teasing at the seam of his lips with your tongue, making him suck in a delighted breath. Your dominant hand had come to cup his pec, flicking over his nipple while he undressed you; now, you dragged it down his chest and over the ripples of his abs, coming to grasp his cock at the base, lining it up with your hole. You gave him no warning before you began to sink down languidly onto him, your wet folds dragging over his length as you went, making him whimper and throw his head back into the mattress, lip caught between his teeth. His hands pressed tighter into your hips as he visibly struggled not to move, thighs tense underneath you as you took your time to envelop him in your heat. You were going slower than was strictly necessary, even given his significant size, and you both knew it; given how much of his teasing you had already endured today, however, you were in no rush to provide him with the relief that you knew would come from sheathing him inside you.
Eventually, after a torturously long slide, your pelvis came to rest against his. You could feel his tip prodding at the very back of your cunt, feel it twitch as your walls involuntarily clenched around the intrusion, feel the way he was dripping precum inside you as you dripped slick onto him. It was everything you had needed all morning; it was almost enough to make his teasing worth it.
You finally ground a little circle against his hips, making him huff out an overwhelmed Amp as he struggled to maintain your eye contact, lids threatening to slip shut.
“I’m gonna move now,” you told him.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Taking it as a suggestion, you began to bounce on his cock, setting a rhythm that was tantalising for you but devastating for him, dragging over his heavy length with precision, driving his tip into your sweet spot every time you sank down. You were both so wet that your movements produced an audible squelching sound, something that might have been embarrassing but for the way it brought an adorable flush to Volt’s cheeks, made him whisper out a little bloody hell into the air with his gaze trained on your cunt working over his shaft.
He made the most delightful noises underneath you, little whines and grunts and curses falling from his lips as he just took what you gave him. You gradually sped up your pace, riding him harder, ass slapping against his firm thighs, cunt trickling slick over his length as you reached a rhythm that made him cling to your waist and squeeze his eyes shut against the onslaught. It made your clit throb to see him so thoroughly taken apart, to know that it was your cunt that was making him feel so good, that had driven him to the point of swearing and whimpering and keening in pleasure.
“My perfect boy,” you murmured, gathering his hair between your fingers and giving a gentle tug, just enough to make him spurt more precum into you. “So good for me. Look so good on your back, baby. Such a good cock, filling me so well.”
His breath hitched. “Oh, fuck.”
You couldn’t help your little giggle. “Oh? Don’t tell me you’re close already?” He bit his lip with a nod. You rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone. “Just remember, baby: you don’t get to cum until I say so.”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.” You just grinned down at him.
In truth, though, you weren’t that far behind. Every so often, you rolled your hips against his when he bottomed out, grinding your clit against his base, smearing your slick against his groin and wetting his curls in the process. It made him frantically gasp for air, the sight and the feel of it too much for his already overstimulated nerves to handle, but it also made you throb, shooting even more slick over his abs. Once you decided you were ready, you knew it would only take a few strokes to your clit before you careened over the edge, too. You were going to take your time, though. You were determined to make him wait.
Or at least, that was the plan. Then he started begging.
It began quietly, his whispers an incomprehensible stream of vowels, until eventually you began to make out words. “Please, please, fuck darling, please, please let me come. Please let me come. Please let me come in you, live wire, please.”
You swore you felt your heart skip a beat. Still, you pushed him. “What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you.”
Volt let out a throaty groan, eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cried, “live wire, please let me come, please let me come darling, I can’t stand it. Fuck, you feel so good, spark, please.”
You finally pressed your hand to your clit. “Do it, Volt. Come in me.”
His hands on your waist pulled your pelvis against his as he finally came with a shout, frantically rutting his cock into you as tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, shooting his seed into the farthest recesses of your hole. The feeling of his hot cum flooding you tipped you over the edge as well, and you buried your face in the junction of his shoulder to stifle the loud moan you couldn’t possibly hope to suppress, cunt gushing around him, fingernails digging in where you grasped his biceps, body quivering through your orgasm as you struggled to maintain your perch atop him. It was overwhelming in the best way, a much-needed factory reset for your frazzled nervous system after an agonising morning of Volt’s taunting, and you couldn’t help but collapse onto him as you trembled from the aftershocks.
You stayed there for a while, body rising and falling with Volt’s breath as you caught your own. His hand slid from your waist to trace lulling circles into your lower back, and he pressed a few chaste kisses to your neck as he slowly regained the ability to speak. “My darling,” he whispered. “My love.”
You turned your head to kiss his neck. “Love you,” you murmured.
He wrapped his arms around your back. “I love you, too, my spark.” This time, his chaste kiss landed at the corner of your lips. “Thank you for indulging me.”
You huffed out a breathless laugh. “You know you could’ve just asked, right? You didn’t have to torture me while I was trying to work.”
His snicker was all too dangerous. “But my sweet little spark, where’s the fun in that?”
You let out a shaky sigh, twining your fingers through his hair again and giving a little tug in warning. “Save it for Eddie,” you said. “I’m trying to work.”
The way he traced his fingers down your spine had you shivering, his lips curving into an impish grin. “Or what?” he taunted.
You got a perverse sense of satisfaction from the look of shock on his face when in one fast, fluid motion, you grasped his wrists in your palms and pinned them down above his head. You felt his cock perk up in interest where he was still buried in your cunt, even though your smile was mocking. “Try me.”