#its funny how i have to tag wallace with pokemon while steven just chilling with his stone

[nightbystarriver]

Nights At The Radio Station | Originshipping

If you ask Wallace, it's true that he is no stranger to odd calls every now and then. It's part of a radio host's work, after all.

The green light switched on, and from the corner of his eyes, Wallace sees his radio crew milling about around the room. Amber eyes meet his gaze — and here May is, sending him a quick wave before quickly turning back to her equipment. The other crew members are also working hard tonight — Brendan next to May, tongue stuck out in concentration, yet gaze still occasionally drifting to the girl next to him, secretly and with longing. Ah, to be young and in love, though Wallace supposes he is also not exactly in a position to complain.

Shaking his head, Wallace turns back to the mic before him. Three minutes more, and the night will fall once the green light turns up, and the studio will get running on their job. May and Brendan, for example, among a few others, are in charge of taking up listeners' calls before letting them through to the radio host — Wallace, in this case. Today's work is going to be rather relaxing compared to usual, for Saturdays are reserved for light chatting and music recommendations. 

(And Wallace would not admit it, but Fridays are usually when the stories really go wild, what with it being labelled as 'for letting out all your heart's troubles and feelings' after all. Yesterday he had to listen to a fifteen-minute-call that detailed all the travails and ordeals worth of a person's life; and while he would always try his best to help his listeners no matter who they are, such a load of information at one time can be a little... exhausting.)

And the light switches on, and the crew give him many little smiles and warms up, and a smile naturally blooms on his face as he embraces the night with a hearty and blooming 'hello and good evening, my dear listeners!'. Time flows into words weaved into stories, and as it flows on, Wallace sits back on his chair and relaxes himself, feeling the many knots in his heart over the long week slowly untangle themselves away.

Perhaps it was this sense of ease and the fact that nothing too surprising has ever happened on Saturdays that led to Wallace letting down his guards.

The next call rolls in, and Wallace thinks he saw May widen her eyes for a split second in surprise before she presses the button to forward the call to him, hand covering her mouth in what could be a giggle. How curious. But he doesn't need to wonder for too long as the beeping sound rings out, which means the call has gone through. A smile comes naturally to the corners of his mouth (he loves doing his job, after all), and he greets his beloved caller with a hearty laugh: "Hello and welcome, my dear listener! May I ask what brought you here to us on this wonderous night?"

There is no respond. Worry starts creeping on his mind after a few seconds of listening closely and waiting. Has the connection been cut out? Is his caller lagging-

"Wallace." A warm, vaguely annoyed and deeply familiar voice rings out, and Wallace freezes. "Where did you leave my ring? I specifically told you to it on the bedside table before I went out this morning and now it's nowhere to be found."

Words get stuck in his throat for seconds that stretches seemingly to eternity. Shit, Steven's ring. The weight of that very same ring rests in his left pocket as if it did not just knock his world off its axis for one awkward moment. How does he convey that without sounding suspicious as fuck in front of his audience?

From the corner of his eye, he catches the director moving his hands in a flurry, signaling that he still has not spoken a word since. The mental image of Steven crossing his arms and tapping his shoe on the ground, the frankly cutest pout on his face crosses Wallace's mind as he visibly recomposes himself and leans into the microphone.

"Well, you see, dearest listener, the ring must have been mistakenly taken outside..."

"Dearest listener... hmph. New petname, I see. Isn't 'pampered prince' enough for you?" Someone in the room chokes, and Wallace feels like doing so too.

"In my defense, you are a little pampered."

"By who, I wonder." The voice cannot be dryer. "No dinner tonight for you."

"But you never cook, dear."

"I'm getting takeout." Yes, the voice can get dryer. "Don't forget the ring when you come home."

The call ends.

No one speaks for exactly five seconds. Then someone — probably Brendan — made a move towards the control board, and Wallace has to physically pick himself up for the second time in the span of five minutes as the next call goes through. At least his "Hello!" afterwards sounds natural enough.

After the Saturday's session finishes wrapping up and everyone bids their goodbyes, he tries to quickly leave the studio (and return to a very irritated dear person at home). May stops him dead in his tracks.

"Is that your roommate?" May whispers almost scandalously. Wallace decided to play dumb.

"Who?" Okay, maybe not that dumb.

"The person who called and talked about the- the ring, or- whatever that was. Was that your roommate?"

He would not exactly call Steven his roommate — more like his dearest lovely husband for two years and running strong now, with even more years of mutual pining before that — but Steven was the one who insisted on keeping their relationship a secret only to themselves, their dads and some other close friends. He was a relatively new celebrity when they first got married, and Steven did not want other people to think that his rise in fame is due to the Devon Corporation's money funding him from behind and not thanks to his incredible charisma — honestly, what happened to subtlety, Steven? Did he change his mind? Was he seriously angry? Why did Wallace forget to return his precious ring to its place? Oh, he might as well has fucked up their whole relationship! Sure he might be overreacting a little, he has always had a flair for drama, just leave him be — but the notion of Steven actually being angry at him refuses to leave his mind.

Alas, May is still waiting and the damage has already been done, so he just cracks a half-smile and nods curtly, trying to push through her to walk away. May just grins mischievously. Very foreboding.

"Roommates who also happens to use really cute petnames?"

"Good friends can also use petnames, you know."

May just chuckles and mumbles something along the line of "and historians call them roommates" — Wallace feels like he is being referenced without knowing what the reference is, but that is beside the point. He quickly waves goodbye and head towards the parking lots. He has more... important matters to deal with now.

Said more important matters is also sleeping on the living room couch when he gets home at the wee hours of two in the morning, his chest rising rhythmically in tandem with his breaths. On the table lies two boxes of takeouts, one still wrapped up nicely and one half empty, he could see it was his favourite — ah. Steven was not actually angry, then. Affections swell up in his heart like that of a boy on his first date as he kneels down besides the couch and tenderly presses his lips against the other's exposed forehead.

Steven stirred awake while Wallace gently holds up the other's hand resting on his stomach and return the missing ring to its place. He looks up to a pair of half closed eyes blinking up bearily at him, letting out some mumbled sleepy noises that sounds something like "welcome home", and Wallace feels his heart stepping one step closer to imploding at those words, the way it does everytime ever since they moved in together.

"I'm home." He brought the bony fingers up and pressed another kiss against it. The tired, yet honest grin that blooms on Steven's face melts all the worries of the diligent, professional Wallace away, leaving only the Wallace who cries over every cheesy romance movie and stays in the bed for five more minutes just to keep staring at his beloved's sleeping form. God, he loves his husband so much.

"Let's go inside, you will catch a cold like this." He gently lays rocks Steven back and forth. "Sorry about the ring, dear."

"It's fine, I didn't really mind." And then Steven swung his arms over his neck, and oh, Wallace's heart might have just actually imploded. "Carry me back to bed."

"Huh- Wait, my dear-"

And Steven is already asleep again, his arms somehow not loosening for one moment. Wallace merely shakes his head exasperately, his hands already moving down the other's back to lift him up.

After all, who is he to disobey the whims of his pampered prince?