Chapter Text
For the second night in a row, Jude hasn’t returned home. This is becoming a pattern, where he doesn’t come back for two or three days and has started keeping clean clothes and soap at Helioborg.
It doesn’t help when Alvin works evenings and oftentimes doesn’t see Jude until he climbs into bed next to him, freshly showered, at nearly two-thirty every morning. They’re always rushing off in different directions, sharing a brief kiss seconds before they part.
But tonight, the bed is empty, and there are no signs that anything has been moved since Alvin left hours before.
Alvin usually would head straight for the shower, but he stands in the entryway of the apartment, and something breaks within him.
Jude’s research is important. Doesn’t he understand that as much as anyone possibly could, just what is at stake? The sooner Jude helps the world move in the direction of spyrites, the world can heal.
Milla can come back or at least visit for longer periods of time.
But is the cost of Jude’s health worth it?
Alvin runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Guess I’d better go get him.”
This isn’t the first time he has had to run to Helioborg at strange hours to fetch Jude or at least deliver a hot meal and a fresh set of clothes. Sometimes he even brings him back to Trigleph on the new train line that runs between the city and the research center, Jude falling asleep in the crook of Alvin’s arms the whole ride.
Alvin changes clothes first, opting for more comfortable sweatpants and his everyday coat. He leaves his expensive work attire hanging on the back of a chair to put away later. Then he slips on sneakers and takes the elevator down to the main floor.
Trigleph is usually bustling until after midnight. The country club patrons Alvin serves alcohol to all day have returned to their luxurious beds. Groups of teenagers who likely slipped out of their houses to hang out linger in the shadows of buildings, passing around bottles of liquor. A few unsavory types make their business deals down at the docks or in front of businesses they own.
Beneath the bright lights that burn away spirits, Alvin hurries to the train station.
Alvin has a seat in a car with only three other people who likely have morning shifts at Helioborg that start at five or so in the morning. The fare is an extra hundred gald for the inconvenience of running during nighttime, but Alvin understands that it’s tough for some trains to run at all hours of the day.
At least he has a way of getting Jude home that doesn’t involve crossing through the highroads on foot.
Alvin doesn’t have time to nod off before the train pulls into the drop off at the research center. The trains in Elympios are proudly fast-running. Within twenty minutes, he has made it from Trigleph to standing outside Helioborg.
The security personnel at the gates smiles and nods at Alvin in familiar greeting before letting him inside the main building.
Alvin hates the research center. They ought to fix the damn layout, because the former fortress’s design complicates the efficiency of a smoothly-operating scientific research building. Even though he knows the three rooms where he might find Jude, they’re all far apart from one another: the library, the main laboratory, and Jude’s office. Never mind if Jude has to go to the bathroom or happens to be borrowing one of their shower stalls.
He tries Jude’s office first. There he finds Jude, hunched over his desk in a rumpled lab coat, his hair likely unwashed since he left their apartment the other day. His eyes are partially closed, a pen fallen to paper that now sports an ink blot.
“Jude?” whispers Alvin.
Jude sits up, pen dropping. He rubs his eyes. “Hey, Alvin. Sorry. I got caught up in researching cooling options for—”
“Jude. You were falling asleep.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He sits upright, eyes fixed on the papers and books piled around him.
“That doesn’t mean go back to work,” Alvin admonishes, his frustrations winning out, because he’s tired too, and he does far less than Jude on a daily basis. “Listen to your body. It’s telling you to rest.”
“I’ll rest soon.”
What an ambiguous promise to make. For Jude, that could mean in half an hour, or it could mean whenever he finishes reading the books at his desk and has the notes he needed all written out.
It used to mean the former more often than the latter, but lately, Jude has danced around the topic of Milla, and Alvin knows it’s because he misses her. Her visits are few and far between.
“Jude, you studied to be a doctor and came from a family that knows this kind of overwork can kill you. You would tell someone else in your place to rest. I know, because you’re always reminding the other researchers to go home and sleep. What makes you the exception?”
If anything, Alvin selfishly cares about Jude more than he does any of his coworkers. That includes Balan, who happily takes breaks at some of the most absurd times.
Jude doesn’t answer, but his lips purse together tightly.
“Jude,” pleads Alvin, softer this time, “don’t push yourself.”
“I have to,” Jude grounds out, fists curling. “We keep running into new problems. I know there are solutions and we’ll solve this eventually—the results are mostly positive—but it’s hard. I have to keep going.”
“Not tonight.”
Jude’s gaze flickers up to Alvin defiantly. “I’ll do what I have to.”
“No, you damn well won’t. You’re going home tonight. I’m throwing you in a bathtub, washing out that mess you call hair, and we’re going to fucking sleep.”
“I’m sorry Alvin. I can’t do that tonight.” Jude picks up his pen and raises it.
“I’m not giving you a choice.” Alvin steps across the room, straightening up so he looks far more imposing as he reaches the desk.
When he glances down, he sees that Jude’s notes are written fast and clumsy, hardly resembling his usual loopy, neat handwriting. Some of the words aren’t legible. The evolution of his penmanship starting neat at the top of the page and getting worse every other line tells Alvin just how much Jude has tired himself out.
“Enough, Jude. You’re working yourself sick.”
Jude’s eyes water, and he burrows his palm against them. The fatigue weighs down his shoulders. “I miss her.”
Milla is a barb in Alvin’s heart, well-buried and tugging at him whenever she is mentioned. “Hey, I know. I do too.”
“Then you understand why I have to do it.”
“No, I don’t. You don’t have to stay at work for hours on end. I miss Milla, but I miss you too.”
“But at least you’re here.”
“It’s a damn good thing I am, so someone can tell you when to rest. You know better than to think pushing yourself will get the most results. Research shows that people do their best work when they’ve rested and eaten. I doubt you’ve had a meal in ages. When we go home, I’ll fry up some eggs for you.”
Jude frowns. “I told you I’d be done soon.”
“Lately, that doesn’t mean a lot.”
“You’re one to talk! Remember when your word used to mean nothing?”
It’s vicious and true, but Jude’s counter attack still stings. “Right. They didn’t mean anything, but damnit, Jude, they mean something now.”
Jude turns away, frowning. “I know I’m pushing myself, but I’m not doing this just for me, so I can see Milla.”
“I know, but it’s reaching the point of obsession.” Alvin slumps his shoulders. “So come home and rest for a day or two.”
“Just give me one more hour.”
“Jude, this isn’t a negotiation.”
“It’s just an hour. I’m in the middle of something.”
“You were in the middle of falling asleep when I came in! Listen to your body. Listen to me. Stop being such a brat about this.”
Jude puffs up, defensive. “I’m not being a brat,” he retorts. “Get out of my office, Alvin. It’s not like you can help me with this.”
That insult does it for Alvin. Sure, he’s not a scientist or a doctor, but he he can help in other ways. One of them is making Jude dinner and bringing him clean clothes. The other is dragging his ass home when he’s too exhausted to work, even if he has to do it by force.
And this time, it seems he’ll have to do it by force.
Alvin makes his way around the desk, large stalking steps, and he takes up Jude’s wrist. As he pulls Jude out of his chair, Jude’s leg swings out. It connects with Alvin’s shin. But instead of releasing Jude, Alvin grabs his other arm and hangs on tight.
He plops down in Jude’s chair and pulls the struggling young man across his lap, face down, and clamps one arm around his middle. He notes just how thin Jude is underneath his clothing. Far too thin to have been eating properly.
“Some part of you is going to listen to me,” Alvin says, adjusting his legs so they’re pinning Jude’s as he thrashes. “Guess it’ll be this end.”
“Stop it, Alvin!”
“I gave you several chances. You didn’t take them.”
“You can’t just—”
Alvin raises up his hand and swings it down hard. The smack shocks Jude, but after a pause, he started trying to writhe out of Alvin’s grip even harder than before.
“You’re strong, but so am I,” says Alvin casually, flipping Jude’s coat out of the way to reveal his trouser-covered ass beneath. He wants a more direct path to get his message across—and hopefully exhaust Jude enough that he sleeps, whether he wants to or not.
Jude lets out a few yelps as Alvin crashes his hand down across his ass. Alvin doesn’t hold back: it needs to sting.
“Fuck off, Alvin,” is Jude’s biting response.
“You sure are cranky. Must be how tired you are.” Alvin rewards Jude with another series of hard smacks. Once he finishes, he rights Jude on his feet, both hands gripping each of Jude’s arms firmly. “We’re going home, Jude.”
Jude wrenches one of his arms free and swings up his fist. Alvin doesn’t even blink as he blocks the blow by snagging Jude’s wrist. It might not have been so easy if Jude were well-fed and properly rested, but even in his weakened state, he still has some strength.
“If you punch me, you’re going back over my knee.” Alvin is deadly calm when he makes the threat.
Jude glowers and tries to free himself from Alvin’s grip. It’s clear he’s trying to get a swing in, one way or another.
“I’m not letting you go,” Alvin promises. “You can either come home with me now, or I can keep spanking. Your choice.”
“That’s not much of a choice!”
“You could just listen to me. Who doesn’t like sleeping and eating?”
Jude keeps tugging, however, and Alvin is beginning to think he’s purposely being difficult beyond all reason. It might be the fatigue, or it might be a deeper need for someone else to be in control so Jude can blame them when he stops studying.
It’s heartbreaking, really, but Alvin has no problem accepting blame. It’s worth Jude being mad at him right now. By the time he bathes, eats, and sleeps, he’ll surely recognize the foolishness in this recent bout of overworking.
Jude has certainly forgiven Alvin for far worse than a spanking.
Alvin draws Jude back over his thighs and clamps down his legs again. The coat goes up, too. Alvin considers how difficult it might be to unbuckle Jude’s belt and tug down his trousers with how much he thrashes around. Perhaps an implement would be far more useful.
Alvin skims the desk, searching, and spots a ruler. That might be more effective and allow his palm a break. He leans in and snatches it up.
“What did you just take?” asks Jude in alarm.
“A ruler.”
“You can’t use that on me.”
“Too bad. My hand’s sore, and your ass isn’t sore enough.” Alvin doesn’t give Jude time to answer before he snaps the ruler across his backside. It sends Jude bucking forward from the shock of the impact, but Alvin holds him down tightly as he administers several more spanks.
That’s when he decides to launch into a lecture, because Jude is far overdue one.
“You’ve changed the past few weeks,” Alvin begins. “You’re spending more and more time at work. I can feel how much weight you’ve lost. I know you follow one train of thought to the next, but sometimes you have to write down your thoughts and get some rest. You seem far more irritable right now than I have ever seen you. It took a long time for me to admit I care about you, and I know I still fuck up, but right now, I’m telling you—I love you, Jude, and so does Milla. Neither of us would want you to do this to yourself.”
Partway through the lecture, Jude’s struggles transition to a bit of squirming, and soon he’s lying still, body moving only with the shudders of his sobs.
“Alvin,” Jude gulps, “please.”
The ruler stops midway, and Alvin lets go of it, letting it clatter to the floor. With the hand he used to hold Jude down, he now slips under his torso and helps Jude move into a sitting position on his lap. Jude whimpers at the contact as his bottom meets Alvin’s thigh, and Alvin rubs his back as Jude falls against him, hand clinging to the shoulder of his coat.
He cries for some time. Alvin fusses over him, caressing him as he reassures him with gentle kisses on the crown of his head.
Jude closes his eyes. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll carry you.”
Jude wraps his arms around Alvin’s neck and burrows his face into his coat as Alvin carries him with one arm wrapped around his back and the other tucked under his knees. He uses his feet to close doors behind him and his pinkie finger to tap the elevator buttons.
He hums in the privacy of the elevator, a soothing tune he learned from his mother, when she would sing the song to him at bedtime. During his earliest years working with Exodus, he often hummed it in the middle of the night to settle his nerves before a big mission—and to combat the frequent loneliness he experienced during that period of his life.
Jude snores softly as Alvin passes by the gates, smiling at the guards as they grin back as if they’re all in on some secret. To them, Alvin must look so gentle and kind, and they have no idea he just finished spanking Jude to end an argument.
During the train ride back to Trigleph, Jude naps in the crook of Alvin’s arms. It’s still dark outside, and the city glows in a rainbow of artificial color. The sight is a comfort.
Alvin carries Jude the remainder of the way home so he can continue to rest his eyes. He almost reconsiders the shower and food, because Alvin is also feeling tired, but as they enter the elevator of their apartment building, Jude’s stomach lets out a grumble.
“I’ll fix us some eggs,” Alvin promises.
Jude lets out a light hum of agreement. The cranky young man who tried to punch Alvin earlier has been replaced with a sleepy boy who needs someone to help him with his bedtime ritual.
Once they’re back in their apartment, Alvin places Jude carefully back on his feet. Jude reaches back and rubs at his butt a little.
“I want a shower.”
“Think you can take one without falling asleep while I cook us some eggs?”
Jude nods as he yawns.
“Be quick, and leave the door open so I can check in on you while I cook.” He’s afraid that Jude might nod off, and he wants to be nearby in case something goes wrong.
As he’s cracking eggs, he glances into the bathroom as Jude strips. As the trousers come down and the boxers along with them, Alvin catches a glimpse of the damage he inflicted on Jude’s ass. It is red with a few deeper colored lines from the ruler.
For a heartbeat of a moment, Alvin feels guilty.
Then he thinks about how the night went, and he’s glad he did it. Jude is home. He would spank him again if he had to, and maybe Milla ought to spank Jude during her next visit to reinforce the message.
Jude’s shower is brief, and Alvin has the eggs ready and on the table as he steps out wearing a fresh pair of boxers and one of Alvin’s larger tees. He yawns and slips into a chair, grimacing when his bottom touches the seat.
But he doesn’t complain. Instead, he picks up his fork and takes small but frequent bites of scrambled egg until there is nothing left on his plate.
“Thanks, Alvin.”
“I’m just glad to see you eat.”
Jude tries to clear the table, but Alvin steps in and shoos him to bed.
“I’ll join you shortly.”
Alvin sets the dishes in the sink and heads to the bathroom one last time. By the time he gets all the lights off in the apartment, save for the lamp beside their bed, Jude is already passed out on his pillow.
It doesn’t wake him when Alvin scoots in and pulls him against his chest, breathing softly with him until they’re both asleep.
They sleep in, but Alvin is still the first out of bed. He fusses around for the number of a good restaurant. Since it is the early afternoon, most of them are serving lunch. He orders two servings of miso soup, warm dumplings, and a bucket of seasoned chicken thighs.
The sound of the delivery girl knocking on the door and Alvin’s exchange with her must be what wakes Jude up. He crosses the apartment and slips into the bathroom just as Alvin nudges the door closed with his foot and flips the lock.
The table is all set by the time Jude emerges, his face freshly washed.
“Morning, Jude. Ready to eat?”
“I’m starving,” Jude admits, lowering gingerly into a chair across from Alvin.
“Yeah, that’s been a bit of a problem lately, hasn’t it?” asks Alvin softly. “I know you get caught up in your work, but—”
“It’s worse than normal, I know.” Jude pops open one of the cups of miso soup. “I feel like I’ve been a failure lately. People get mad when they don’t have results from me for weeks. We’ve done some closed trials, but we’ve run into complications.” He dips a spoon into his soup but doesn’t lift it up to his lips. “I miss Milla, and it feels like I’m never going to see her again.”
“You know that’s not true. She can’t stay long—not right now—but she isn’t gone forever.”
“But she still leaves.”
Alvin winces. “Yeah. I know. Don’t think I don’t miss her too.”
“I acted really stupid last night,” says Jude, letting go of his spoon and letting is linger in the cup. His eyes lift to meet Alvin’s. “You’re right—I should rest if I want my work to be my best. I’ll only cause more problems for my team if I’m pulling long nights for weeks on end.”
Alvin raises an eyebrow.
“And it’s not good for my health.”
“I’m glad you see that now. I wasn’t sure if you’d chew me out for spanking you last night.” Alvin runs a hand through his hair. “Guess you’re not mad.”
“I’m a little mad you embarrassed me like that.”
“It would’ve been a lot more embarrassing if I had to carry you all the way to Trigleph with you thrown over my shoulder, kicking and hollering the whole way.”
Jude bows his head. “I guess that would look pretty bad. I’m trying to build a good reputation, not destroy it.”
“You’re about to be even more unhappy with me.”
Jude glances up. “What do you mean?”
“I spanked you, but wait till Milla gets home. I think she’s going to want to do the same when she hears what you’ve been up to.” Alvin took no pleasure from the spanking he gave Jude, but if he gets to watch Milla do it, he might find it a little more tantalizing.
Jude’s face turns a delightful shade of pink. “She wouldn’t.”
Alvin grins. “We’ll see. I might have to start threatening you more often to get you to take care of yourself too.”
“You won’t.” He sounds far more certain than when he denied that Milla would ever spank him. He picks up his spoon.
“Not when you’re behaving, no.”
Jude lets out a long exhale. “Is this going to be a new part of our relationship?”
“Not really, since I know you’re such a good boy most of the time.” Alvin leans over the table on his arms, grin widening. “And when Milla’s done with you, you’ll never act out again.”
Jude shakes his head. “You already punished me.”
“One of us has, yes. Guess we’ll both find out when Milla gets here what she thinks.” Alvin snags a chicken thigh and bites into it, delighted to see that his statement leaves Jude squirming in his seat.