an ass man (butt also, just an ass) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bootyhunter) wrote2022-02-07 12:30 pm
bootyhunter) wrote2022-02-07 12:30 pm
Entry tags:
CALL ME OUT
Currently writing Dandy (Space Dandy) / Rex Splode (Invincible) / and Simon Laurent (Infinity Train)
bootyhunter / himbomb / incelligent*Note: Sakamoto Tatsuma (Gintama)
kaihentai and Asher Millstone (How to Get Away With Murder) moneyballer available on requestAlso voicetesting Mike Wazowski (Monsters Inc)
googlybear / Eddy (Ed, Edd, n' Eddy) edboy / Reagan Ridley (Inside Job) madcryentist / Abdul Ali (Squid Game) aitbaar / Portia Davenport (Search Party) portialain / Elliot Goss (Search Party) confabulous / Fleabag (Fleabag) feminitwit / Johnny Bravo (Johny Bravo) pretteh / and Joel Hammond (Santa Clarita Diet) screechy
no subject
Humiliation. Robert's hand slows a bit with the patting as he processes that. Generally that's not a good state to be in (unless you're into that), and he doesn't want Flambae to be there because of him. At least, not anymore. Sappy and sentimental, well, he has to admit he's not so great with that either. But when he does care, he cares a lot. And he tries hard, like he's doing right now.
What's surprising to him is Flambae's vulnerability about it. He just comes off as so confident and assured of himself and his place in the world. ]
You're kidding.
[ Though really, even as he says that, he can kind of see it. Flambae was a villain before. He wouldn't even stop to talk to Robert once the building was cleared and he had nowhere else to go, nothing else to burn. Even when the Z-team is getting all riled up about things, he's often quiet comparatively. There are little signs of it here and there that the dispatcher just hasn't picked up on because they weren't ... well. They weren't like this before. ]
I get it. It's ... pretty embarrassing, yeah.
[ He huffs softly, looking away for a moment as he smiles and gives Flambae one more pat before he stands and steps back to give the man some room. He tips his thumb back toward the door. ]
I'll just be in there, then.
[ So he turns to exit the room with the intention of letting Flambae ... simmer down. Or whatever he needs to do. Robert will just maybe get a little more dressed and sit on the edge of the bed and wait, with Beef happily following once he gives one last sniff in Flambae's direction. ]
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The burly arm that was extended in front of him drops, slowly, as he catches a reflection of himself in the mirror. He looks frazzled with his hair down and in disarray like this, and for whatever reason, all of his imperfections seem more noticeable. He shuts his mouth, spotting the gap in his teeth, then pausing to straighten his ridiculous posture. Prism has always said that when he looms forward running after a raggedy-ass man, Flambae tends to look his worst.
What saves the image he's seeing now is the towel that's been so lovingly draped around him, which he runs both hands over, upwards from the chest and over his shoulders. He only does it after a long pause, but eventually, Flambae takes the right side and gently begins dabbing at the corresponding side of his face.
This is the time of night he usually shaves, even though when he wakes up in the morning it's always back again. Flambae isn't quite as confident in his face without the five o'clock shadow. Sure, he's always had those high as all hell, chiseled cheekbones, but his face is quite long, and a little thin, if he's really giving in to the worst of his inner critic.
Still, he opens one of his drawers and pulls out a razor, and when he exits the bathroom back in those stupid Calvin Kleins, literally the worst pair available, he pounces back onto the bed next to Robert.]
You missed me.
[The words are delivered in that insufferable, sing-songy tone, and we all know how terrible of a singer he is. Also, combined with the comical up-and-down waggle of his furry brows, Flambae really just looks ridiculous.]
Sorry.
This time, I really wasn't trying to incinerate you.
At least not on purpose.
[Should he? Flambae studies Robert's face a bit, wondering if this is a good time. After thinking over it for a brief few seconds, he leans in to give Robert a loud peck on the cheek. That is the only time tonight that Flambae's face feels that smooth, and without the beard, it's even more evident just how angular it is.]
Are you sure you don't want me to get at that last one for you?
[The injury. It's the least red of the three.
He'll also snake an arm around Robert's waist, tapping the skin above the wound that isn't un-punctured with a finger.]
You can hold onto me now, if you wish.
[meaning: he's back to normal now, kind of
He reaches with his other hand to ruffle Robert's hair, only the ruffling devolves into something like... gentle petting i am almost too scared to type this]
I like that you can be such a fucking softie, sometimes.
[For once, he means this positively. It shows with the affection that's in his voice.]
It's cute.
[And from the way that Flambae darts his eyes away in this moment, clearly something he has not had all that much experience with either.]
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When Flambae does emerge from the bathroom and hops onto the bed, Robert has to do a double take. His perpetual five o'clock shadow...it's just gone. It's possible for it to be gone? You know that meme gif of the white guy blinking? That's Robert Robertson III right now. ]
You shaved.
[ He says that in genuine surprise. Like it's a marvel and a wonder.
But the kiss on the cheek and arm around his waist takes him back down a little closer to earth. He smiles gently. Yes, gently, and he means it too. ]
I'm really fine, you know. Doesn't even hurt.
[ But it's so, so sweet that Flambae worries about it he almost can't believe it's happening. If pressed, he wouldn't argue much either way. He turns himself on the mattress to better face the man and his terrible Calvin Kleins (should he tell him they're atrocious? Maybe he shouldn't tell him).
Gentle petting is also taking me out a bit, but Robert likes it. It's soothing and warm, kind of like the rest of Flambae at the moment. Has he always just been this warm naturally and the dispatcher paid no attention? Or had they just not ever been this close very often... ]
I'm not a fucking softie.
[ He says this as he somewhat cautiously puts his own arms around the man, slumping up against him with his cheek against a bosom that has no right to be so pillowy. His expression is now more or less out of Flambae's view, but his ears sure have turned red. It's being called a softie, and being called cute. What does he do with this information!! ]
I just, um, you know. This is comfortable.
[ The bed, the body, whatever. Robert doesn't really get that many chances to cuddle. He just hopes that he isn't about to be embracing another fireball. ]
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[He braces himself for what could be otherwise hilarious commentary, you know, if it hadn’t been specifically crafted to bruise his already fragile ego… Always infuriating, but re-contextualized? Maybe a little flirtatious.]
That is because if I don’t not groom myself properly, I will end up looking like Chewie, tall and covered in hair.
[pronounced in the accent like
Chee-oo-whee]
You know Chewie? From the Star Wars!
[And then he proceeds to do his best Chewbacca(sp?) impression, which is more seal bark than alien.
The truth is, Flambae has done everything possible to be close to Robert, only thus far, it’s always been to serve as an intimidation tactic. He’s flaunted his size and the heat of his flames in close proximity to Robert, even going as far as flinging his entire flaming body at the metal suit in hopes that he could somehow burn right through it.
Flambae wonders, silently, if that’s what he’s doing now. He senses Robert’s hesitation, hating himself for being so fucking sensitive. It’s so good to hold him, finally, and there’s a weird sort or eroticism that comes with holding him so closely.]
See? This is what having a bed feels like, BobBob.
[Or a boyfriend, but he doesn’t say that.]
But honestly, what’s more comfortable? The mattress, or me?
And… If you don’t like me calling you soft, then…
[Robert is short enough for Flambae to get close and press his nose into his hair.]
What else am I supposed to say to you, huh?
[He can feel Robert’s face getting warmer- Is that his own fault, or is the former hero blushing?]
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But the Chewie comment, complete with the absolutely awful impression, makes Robert burst out laughing. Of all the strange fucking things to say, and also just imagining coming to work with a wookkie in place of Flambae is too much. He laughs a good moment longer and then breathes out slowly. ]
Uh-huh. Okay.
[ He'll just take his word for it. ]
And no shit. You don't say?
[ who could have thought that this is what it's like to have a bed? Robert certainly hasn't had one in his whole entire life. But the teasing is gentle and he still seems to be quite glued to Flambae's chest and content not to move from it, which is as good a sign as any. Maybe the question of what's better is just fishing for an ego stroke or something but at this point Robert doesn't really care. He can give a win or two to Chad. ]
You are, because it's warm.
[ Might suck in the summertime, but they can get there when they get there. Imagine if they get there? That makes Robert's stomach do that dipping thing again. And the nestle against his hair is enough to get him to close his eyes. It feels so peaceful, and he doesn't think about how fucked up it is that he can't remember the last time he's felt that like this. ]
I don't know. Just don't say it at work. They'll eat me alive.
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So he likes Star Wars.
Flambae will remember that.]
I won’t.
[Robert’s laugh sounds nothing like the angelic musical stylings of Whitney or Mariah, but even so, it’s music to his ears. He’s never really had the chance to make him laugh in private until tonight, and he wonders briefly if Robert is coddling him.
Is he really a more appealing option than the bed? Maybe he should consider conditioning his chest hair, just so it doesn’t feel as scratchy…
Flambae would be quick to chime in about the Z-team, how they will absolutely have their asses incinerated with backtalk as soon as they Realize (and Coupe is intelligent), although he decides there is something more important to say first.]
But I will not hide my feelings for you, either.
[He doesn’t move, keeping much of his face in Robert’s hair.]
I do not want to make you that guy.
I have been that guy!
[Flambae has never been in the closet himself, not technically, but some of his first partners-]
It’s fucking horrible.
[Romantic relationships are personal business, yes.
But they shouldn’t be secrets. Not the serious ones, or at least, not in the situation they’re in now.]
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Anyway, the chest hair doesn't really bother him, but this is also a man who sleeps regularly in a plastic chair. It's more that Flambae's warmth and just the very idea of lying against him and touching him like this is comfortable and nice. A bed can be any old bed (even if it's a chair, apparently).
Robert lifts his head slightly, carefully so he doesn't bonk Flambae in the nose and cause yet another part of him to bleed. ]
You sure?
[ They both know they will get a lot of shit from the Z-Team. HR will probably get involved, though for once it's more of a positive thing and not that someone is talking about their botched circumcision or touching inappropriately or spying on Robert in the locker room.
He's not asking that because he's ashamed or wants to hide it or anything. Everyone already finds every possible thing they can to make fun of him for. It just seems important to make sure Flambae knows what they're headed into. Then again he probably knows the team a little better than Robert at this point still. ]
That's fine with me.
[ he rests his cheek back down against that obnoxiously large and comfortable chest. ]
We just, you know, work with a bunch of assholes.
[ They're his bunch of assholes, but the point stands.
Part of him is optimistic also that they'd want Robert (and Chad) to be happy too. And this makes him happy. ]
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[This is said with such a reluctant air. Boy, does he fucking know it! He is just praying that Prism will have enough ammo to make... All the backtalk somewhat tolerable.]
And if we weren't the subject of their bullshitty bullshitting-
[He takes a deep breath.]
I'm sure at least some of it would be hilarious.
But, the others, they get to-
[His voice peters out on this one. He's been quick to challenge Robert or pipe up when he feels particularly slighted, but Flambae has in his own mind done his best to stay in his lane. He hangs out with Coupe and Punch sometimes, appreciating both for their skill, but them being "broken up" is total bullshit. Malevola and Sonar have a weird friends but... With some kind of bizarre benefits thing going on?! And Invisigal has been flirting with Robert constantly.]
Ugh.
It's nothing.
Forget I said anything.
[i wanted to wax more poetic about how cute robert is being and how nice it is for flambae to hold him but ig that will be the next tag]
I am talking out of my fucking miracle of an ass again.
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He huffs out softly at the thought of any of the banter being hilarious and ... yeah, unfortunately that's correct. ]
Probably, yeah.
[ either that or it would be so fucking stupid he would have to take his headset off for a moment and just take a breath or two before he could face any of those freaks again.
Flambae supposedly talking out of his (admittedly very nice) ass though has him curious, and he tilts his head up slightly again. ]
You can't just start to say it and change your mind.
[ He taps his fingers against Flambae's chest almost like he's impatient. Or maybe trying to coax the words right out of him. ]
Tell me.
I AM SO SORRY ABOUT ALL THIS RAMBLY DIALOGUE
thinvillainousbottom lip with those gapped teeth, suddenly remembering the Bone Zone's stupid rumor and releasing it almost instantly. God, that fucking bastard is getting to him on a good day! What a loser, honestly...He's reluctant to give away anything about his childhood that's particularly specific or horrible, seeing how hard he's fought to be himself and not the token homosexual in any given situation. Even worse, his powers, his interests, and on top of that his fucking abilities, make him feel dangerously close to being a stereotype, although he doe his best not to think about it.]
I just... I've spent a lot of time thinking too much!
[What?]
You know, about... If some guy at work is actually into me, or... Just doing that weird shit straight guys do.
[That makes more sense actually.]
Where they slap each other on the ass and then act like neither one of them jerked off to the memory of it later. Or that it'd be weird, or disgusting, or anything other than...
I don't know. Just... A Thing? That somebody else could be into?
[He can't quite find the words for it, it's a difficult subject. But especially in regards to romantic or sexual relationships, he's had to think twice before pursuing anything openly and honestly, despite having worked hard on any shame he had felt about it in his early years.
That's a part of why he puts so much effort into his own appearance. Might as well like oneself enough that it'll pull other men into the orbit, even if it isn't the ones you actually want.]
If I am flirting with a guy, for example... The majority of everybody fucking else doesn't think, or wouldn't think that it was, aah.
Something he wanted, right? Don't get me wrong! Vice versa, that is... Pretty fucked up, too.
A lot of girls used to try and get at me when I was younger, probably because I was quiet... And... Tall? Two things that women seem to apparently like in a man, and... It was pretty flattering, I'll be the first to to admit! But, when I told them they were barking up the wrong tree, they seemed pretty flabbergasted.
[He's just glad that he has the suit now. That tends to speak for itself.]
And I'm almost positive that in front of most of them, I had fanboyed pretty hard about Mariah without talking about her ass or tits.
It's a low bar, I know, but... Don't you think they should have known?
[ASLKDJAFSKDJFASKDJF]
Like, what straight man calls her Mimi? If you know any, I think we need to put them on a census. Something very strange is going on there.
IT'S ALL GOOD IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD
[ But that's the only teasing quip he'll get out for this conversation for now. He knows it's serious, and he is taking it seriously. Sometimes it just seems that he can't help himself around Flambae.
He gets it, though. Even with the world opening up a little bit about sexualities and genders and hybrid species or aliens and everything in between, things are just always at least a little bit different for anyone who isn't just straight. Even Robert benefits from being perceived as a straight man whether the assumption's been correct or not. His brow furrows a little, since he hadn't thought much about this due to that, and he suddenly feels a bit bad for Flambae. ]
It's not weird, or disgusting. I don't think you'll have any problem with the Team.
[ Their assholery aside, they're like a weird, stupid family now. He knows Flambae knows this, but understands how nerve-wracking it must still be. He thinks the rest of SDN will also not be complete fuckheads about it, especially if they just deal with Phenomaman on a daily basis. But still, he wants to help the guy he cares about anyway that he can. ]
And if anyone tries to make us feel otherwise, I'll tell them to go fuck themselves.
[ He, hoping that he's not about to have a human fireball on his hands again, places a kiss against Flambae's chest. ]
Sternly but professionally speaking, of course.
[ Considering he beat a man on live ass television though, there is no telling how professional things could possibly stay. He's sure they won't have to worry about that though.
Flambae's teen years sound a bit insufferable actually, not that Robert didn't have his own kind of hellish time growing up. But he curses anybody who made the younger version of him feel insecure or bad or unwanted. ]
But yeah, they definitely should have known.
[ If the flaming super has never been in the closet, the rest of them were just in denial in the presence of a tall and cool young man. That's a them problem. Also, as a not-quite-straight-but-acts-pretty-straight kinda guy, Robert will never, ever refer to Mariah Carey as "Mimi". Ever. ]
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[Is this about the team, or the thinking-]
They are very good about things like that.
[It's why the Z-team, for all their flaws, really does feel like family. The lot of them are bad at speaking directly about their feelings, so instead they communicate by fighting each other hand to hand or word to word, and using thinly-veiled defensive mechanisms to keep whatever's left of their hearts safe.
The kiss to the chest makes him curl up, in on himself but also onto Robert. He hates that he feels so giddy about it, but maybe it's time to let things be. For whatever reason, he and Robert have not had a chance to experience this. Stepping down from both violence and blustering bullshit has been terrifying, but...
Robert's kindness is going a long way. This is certainly a humbling experience. He's also scared that after tomorrow, he won't feel comfortable speaking, or that maybe Robert will come to his sense and realize that this isn't something he wants, so...
Flambae does his best to get things all in the open now.]
I am not like the others. Well, I am, we are... We have all been arrested, obviously!
But they have never met any of my boyfriends, or... Anyone I was ever serious about.
[Prism has, but he isn't talking about her. Also, her critiques of his exes and past situationships have been wildly accurate, to the point that it's embarrassing at this rate.
He's so caught up with thinking about that, he doesn't seem to understand the gravity of his own words, even though they're sincere.]
It will be a shitshow.
Let's just hope we both survive it.
[And that is enough emotional nudity for now-]
What do you want for breakfast tomorrow? You seem like a pancake or waffles sort of guy.
no subject
Surprisingly? Yeah, they are.
[ he loves each and everyone one of those stupid idiots. not as much as he loves Flambae but.
Suddenly Robert's life is full of people he loves and not just people he feels obligated to save.
With Flambae curling around him a bit more, he shifts himself to get more comfortable. They should definitely, certainly be sleeping by this point if they have any hope of being functional at work in a few hours. But also, most of that hope has been lost with the fact that the Z-Team's dispatcher is a fully fledged twitterpated shmuck who's just scored himself his first boyfriend in ever or at least a very, very long time. Yes he's in his 30s but it's going to be hard not to be giddy and weird all day long.
Chase will definitely make a comment.
(But even he will inevitably be happy for Robert)
His mouth quirks up in a little bit of a smile, like he's got a secret but the secret is just that he's really content, even a bit excited, at the moment despite all the embarrassing and vulnerable emotions being flung out onto the table. ]
We will.
[ He's survived worse, obviously. They both have. After all, Flambae has both lost some fingers and been thrown in jail. Robert's nearly died more than a few times and everyone at work is constantly attempting to embarrass him as it is. In fact, he should have a trophy for how good he is at deflecting them. ]
And anything but donuts. [ seriously, can we lay off the donuts for a week. ] I don't think I've had pancakes for years.
i need to review the game canon ALKDJFA but would he have seen-
The members of the Z-team all have their perks. Punch-Up and Coupe are reliable teammates, both seasoned combatants with their own respective upsides. Punch-Up is friendly and reliable, while Coupe's efficiency and penchant for silence is something that Flambae appreciates, as someone who has the tendency to be quiet and unapproachable in his default state. Malevola is cool as hell even if she is weirdly familiar, and Sonar, while extremely irritating at first, has an endearing tendency to shoot the shit and express an interest in actually spending time with the rest of them outside of work, which feels especially nice after having felt like an outcast. Waterboy is pathetic, sure, but in a cute way, especially now that he has learned the law of the land and has stopped wasting perfectly good food. Flambae is also oddly invested in seeing if the kid finally decides to lose his virginity any time soon. Golem is fucking hilarious, he's easily Flambae's second favorite Z-teamer, and Invisigal is working on herself despite being severely antisocial initially, which Flambae has a good deal of respect for. Prism is hysterically funny, unabashedly herself, and unafraid to speak her mind on top of being an incredible artist and versatile team member. The fact that she can be such a bitch to all of them and yet can turn on the charm like no other is... Inspiring, honestly. Then again, the girl is magnetic when she wants to be, and if you just so happen to be her hot-tempered bestie, she'll go to bat for you even when you don't deserve it.
Which is often, he knows.
That's the relationship he's most worried about if this gets serious- Her vibe and Robert's are so... Fucking dissimilar. She'd absolutely hate his taste in media, he's certain. And clothing, but... Can you hate someone's taste in clothes when. It's so clear they don't even think about them, anyway-]
Oh!
Is the memory of that old man's ass burned into your brain as well? Granny? More like Fried Fanny, am I right? Jesus. It must have smelled terrible in there.
[He has to laugh, shifting his own body in a way that keeps poor Robert from shuffling too much. Gingerly, he pulls a nearly translucent set of covers over half of Robert's body, since Flambae provides most of the heat himself, then taking a moment to really touch him.
The five-fingered hand moves up and down through Robert's hair, ruffling over the back of his neck and then curling deep into the strands right at the top of his head, digging his fingers in with a pressure that's meant to be like a comforting massage. The gesture is intentionally bawdy and wordlessly intimate, meant to ease Robert into slumber but give him something to remember later, especially when Flambae's hand moves from Robert's hair to his shoulders, fingers splaying over the scars and freckles before they finally flatten out over his back.
He leans in to kiss what he can reach of Robert's forehead, wondering if any of the affection he can provide will be enough to compensate for whatever vibrance the city has wrung from him, if there was ever any vibrance there to begin with. Not having had pancakes in years despite liking them is a huge red flag, as they're a common diner breakfast staple and often an easy breakfast to make for someone you just fucked the night before. They're simple, hard to fuck up if you top them for with the right amount of butter and syrup, which means that Robert has likely had very little sleepover sex if any in his days as MechaMan, and come to think of it, the guy probably neglects breakfast altogether.
He probably downs an ungodly amount of black coffees and then suddenly finds himself in front of the vending machine, ordering an extra packet of twinkies for lunch. At 3 PM probably, god, it's depressing just thinking about it.]
Pancakes it is.
[He smiles to himself. The people he loves the most all seem to share the same breakfast food- Prism, his niece, and now Robert.
Reluctantly, Flambae turns his attention towards Beef, who has been waiting patiently at the foot of the bed. Also... Possibly intrigued by whatever Flambae is doing to Robert, because... Usually Robert is the one doing that to him. Can dogs see that clearly?
Flambae should ask Robert if the portly puppy usually sleeps with him, and he will, but he has to squeeze in one last potshot before the night is over. Pulling Robert even closer to his chest, he waggles his brows at poor Beefy.]
Hey, here's a question you have never heard before...
[Each word is dripping with the kind of indulgent, self-satisfactory smugness of one of Sonar's former classmates when closing a business deal. Flambae thinks he is so funny...]
Can I keep him?
granny? YEAH....
It definitely isn't fair to hate on Robert's choice of wardrobe when he barely has a wardrobe to begin with. ]
Yeah. It seems like donuts have been showing up a lot more recently after all that.
[ And it feels like it should be the opposite?? There's also the fact that Waterboy gave him a bunch of soggy ones, and Invisigal smashed one on his keyboard.
At least Robert didn't have to smell Granny's cooked ass.
It's almost strange to be sort of 'tucked in' the way he is right now, but he doesn't protest. It's comfortable and nice, Flambae's fingers (all five of them this time) seem to know what they're doing, and Robert probably could just drift off to sleep like this. The kiss to his forehead makes him feel light and silly things again. But then —
Beef!
He can't forget about Beef. And Beef hasn't forgotten about them. In fact, in response to that smug declaration of intention from the firestarter, the pup gives a determined 'boof' and starts pawing furiously at the side of the bed as though this is going to help him accomplish the task of hopping up there with his rotund, stubby body.
Robert laughs a little and twists back some from his former position of clinging to Flambae's body. ]
Aw, buddy. Don't listen to him. We're a package deal.
[ If you can't deal with the Beef, you can't deal with the Robert.
Of course if Flambae really doesn't want him in the bed he'll respect that. As long as they can lay a towel or something on the floor! Beef always gets to be comfortable. ]
Can he come up here?
no subject
Oh, he’s so going to regret this, but the fact that he’ll be washing the sheets pretty soon anyways means that Beef should be able to sleep comfortably too.]
I think he is heavier than you.
Does the two of you usually sleep together?
[This is another odd thought, but in context, it makes sense how much Robert cares for Beef.
It’s starting to sound like he’s the only source of tenderness the man has had over the past few years. And by the looks of it, he isn’t even that old.]
Where did you find him, anyway?
no subject
Robert laughs a bit at the weight comment (honestly probably true, Beef eats better than he does anyway), settling back down against the other hero's side once everybody's on board. The pup in the meantime circles and sniffs for a lap and then plops himself up against Flambae's other side. This is his method of telling Robert's new flame (hahaha) that he accepts him. Also, it is very very warm and that's nice. ]
I sleep in a chair, remember?
[ He eyes Beef for a few moments and then gives Flambae a look, like he's challenging him or something. Anyway, he does spend a lot of time with the dog. Beef is very loved, and clearly loves Robert very much.
After a moment, he settles a little more, closing his eyes. The dog is already snoring. ]
I guess we just kind of found each other. I feel like he's always been around.
[ Yes it does seem that a fat chihuahua has been the only source of love or tenderness for Robert for at least a handful of (dog) years. Don't worry about it. ]
1/2
Yeah, but maybe he sleeps in your lap while you rot away in that chair, I don't know! This is the first time I am watching you fall asleep!
[that sounds so suspicious even tho it is sincere ALSDKFJ]
no subject
Still, as cool-guy as he tries to be about it, it's always a shock when seemingly innocent creatures seek him out first. It means a lot more than he ever lets on, touching something deep inside him, pushing back at a notion that's been difficult to shake, as the question of his own personal monstrosity is constantly up for debate.
Even the fact that Robert is here, falling asleep in his arms after accepting a lot of things so willingly, feels like it will all disappear the second he wakes up. Flambae can't quite allow himself to fall asleep just yet, especially since he's curious how Robert's body will change when he's finally conked out. Sure, he'll relax a little and his breathing will slow down, but what will all of that feel like against his own broad chest? Flambae wonders how Robert sounds when he is comfortable in a natural state as he runs over his itinerary for tomorrow morning.
His alarm is already set, he'll make pancakes for the two of them before Robert awakens and set aside some meat for Beef, and try to get Robert out of the house at a reasonable time so he can make it to work. All the while, he'll have to pick up those flowers from the store and make it to SDN looking coiffed and suave as ever because... God forbid he look sweaty or disgusting when he's trying to be dashing. Flambae does feel empathy for Robert, make no mistake, as it sounds like he may have had it even wore than a vast majority of supervillains over the years. They may be unreliable, double-crossing motherfuckers but... Even they've had their indulgences, their friendships, their trysts.
MechaMan (III) doesn't seem like he's had much of anything in his time as an active hero, other than a routine ass-kicking and a recently acquired canine cutie. It's selfish, something Flambae is working on, but despite the sadness he feels for the shorter man, he's thrilled.
If he works hard enough, he thinks, he can prove himself worthy. He can worm his way into Robert's empty personal life and finally see to it that the man is eating and sleeping properly, and that he maybe even develops a special interest that isn't directly tied to his employment. They can furnish that shitty apartment together and maybe, just maybe, reach a state where they're something serious, something real and permanent.
Silently, and only silently, he wonders about the last time Robert heard the words, "I love you." For Flambae, he can recall it even though it's been some time, and he hadn't trusted it. The phrase had felt manipulative at the time, like the idea of love had been weaponized against him to push him in a direction he hadn't chosen for himself.]
Get ready to catch the best multiple Z's you've ever had the chance to receive, motherfucker! Maybe tonight, you will finally learn what it means to get some real beauty sleep.
[He wants, so badly, to kiss him on the lips.
But just like with Beef, he doesn't wish to disturb Robert if he's already asleep.]
Goodnight, Robert.
I'll see you tomorrow.
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Beef has a bed.
[ he says through a yawn, like it's super normal for your dog to have a bed while you have a plastic chair.
All the things that Flambae has an inkling about, wants to feel sad about, are just normal to Robert, which actually may make it even sadder. He doesn't really think about these things much, something nicer or warmer or safer will just happen and he'll respond like "Wow, that was great" and that's that. He's got a long way to go. This isn't a terrible start though, really. This grindr set-up could have gone so, so much worse. Knowing his luck it probably should have.
If Robert was to be asked when the last time someone told him they loved him was, he might not be able to answer. He's sure his dad has said it before, but he's been dead for fifteen years, and his son has been consumed with avenging him and keeping the family business alive. There hasn't been time to remember things like that. He's sure he's mentioned a "love you" to Beef a few times, but of course the dog isn't going to say it back.
But maybe now, finally, he can take a moment and see what it's like. There's a long way to go, but it's a possibility when before it just seemed distracting or unnecessary.
It certainly doesn't take him long to fall asleep when he's feeling happy and warm and safe. Beef is snoring but soon Robert's breathing slows and gets some weight to it. Whether he heard Flambae's goodnight or not is questionable, but he seems to be very peaceful as he snoozes away against the human space heater's gigantic chest.
When morning comes, he first notices that it's not as warm suddenly when it's just him and the dog laying in the bed (Beef has migrated to laying on top of Robert and he feels a little like his chest might cave in because of it, but it's fine). Eventually he makes his way upright, shuffles around to put on his clothes — he'll have to wear the same shirt even if he does own more than one to wear for work. Didn't really think the whole sleepover thing through. Ah well.
With the buttons buttoned and the shirt at least halfway tucked in, he emerges to the smell of pancakes and butter and just ... general homeyness. His eyes in the meantime are assaulted with the ensemble that is Flambae's morning routine.
He is such a weirdo. But Robert is smiling about it enough that his slightly less sleep deprived eyes crinkle at the edges as he reaches up to smooth his hair down a bit. He knows it's sticking up a little in the back. ]
Good morning ...
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He’s finishing up a special glaze over one of the finished pancakes, running some fire from the tip of his finger over some sugar he’s sprinkled over top.]
What?
[He notices the look. There’s that mocking smile again! Ugh, it’s fucking cute though, especially knowing what he does now.]
You think perfection just happens? This shit takes effort, Robbo, effort!
[Somehow, miraculously, the 5 o’clock shadow is back. He ushers Robert over, pulling out his chair to that modest dinner table, which has been pretty notably cleaned up since last night’s fiasco. The dishwasher is currently running, and how early he got up to pull all of this shit and vacuum is a mystery.
He’s probably fully naked under the robe, however.]
Come, sit! And try one.
See if you like it.
It is a little sweeter than my usual recipe, because I know your tastebuds are totally fucked.
[He’ll set Robert’s plate down near that chair, along with a clean fork and a knife. Wow… Domestic much? If any of the Z-team members could see him now, they’d never let him live it down.
He’ll also saunter over to fuss with that upturned hair, thank you. It’s mostly an excuse to touch Robert, but he’ll try and pat some of the edges down with a clean hand.]
You look like a pigeon.
[One that has just shit itself, but he’s trying to be romantic here.]
Did you sleep well?
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Nothing. It's just ... very you.
[ It's also crazy that the 5 o'clock shadow is back. That's some wild genetics right there. Decidedly, yes, he does look better with it, though if he has to get used to Flambae shaving it off every night after a certain hour that's fine too. If only Robert was the type of man who would see this whole beauty routine and think damn I should really take better care of myself too. Alas, it will take more than that.
Sitting down at the table, he takes in a whiff of the pancakes and thinks he likes what he smells. Not that he'd be hard to please, since this is the first time anyone has made him pancakes anytime remotely recent in his life.
He wisely chooses to ignore the pigeon comment, though doesn't fuss to much about the fussing. Instead, he smiles up at Flambae for a moment, and then leans up to steal a kiss against his cheek before he settles back down in the chair again. ]
I slept very well, yes.
[ There is a small huff after that, because he can just sense that another comment about how actually having a real bed like a real person will work wonders. Yes, yes, he knows! He expected this. But Beef and Flambae were with him and it was warm and he was exhausted from all the emotional gymnastics, so yeah ... he slept like an absolute log.
Then he decides to cut into one of the pancakes and scoop a bite up into his mouth, and ...
Holy shit. ]
These are— Mmgh. [ He quickly swallows the bite he's in the middle of and looks over at Flambae like he's the eighth wonder of the world. ] These. Are great.
[ He has really been missing out these 15+ years of having no pancakes. But the added sweetness? Is just right too. ]
this is a sweeter expression but my paid expired
He touches his face with a hand where he was kissed gingerly, covering his mouth because he must look so utterly pathetic. A moment passes as he turns to take his seat across from Robert, now shifting his hand to lean on it, although he’s still keeping his fingers pressed over the area Robert’s lips grazed.
Flambae has always been good at cooking, a skill easily bolstered by how it went so hand in hand with those natural abilities he’s so very proud of, but it is strange to have it appreciated by someone who isn’t Prism. Most of his dates are far more casual, he’ll go bar hopping or maybe pick a nice spot to eat, but this sort of treatment is reserved for someone special.
Robert doesn’t need to know, and he likely won’t, only the look that the dispatcher gives him makes Flambae feel wildly giddy too. He does his best to try and flash that confident, beaming grin of his even though he can feel his heart thundering away in that broad chest.]
Yeah?
[It would probably do him good to say something, but for once he has no remarks. Robert looks so happy. It’s easier to impress him with food than in a fight, but…
Flambae shouldn’t get his hopes up. Of course MechaMan’s standards for the second thing are a lot higher.]
Well, the glaze for them is custom, so…
[He gestures with a glowing index finger.]
You better let me know if you’d like any more.
noooo, the worst
He knew, of course, that the firestarter liked cooking and had some skill with it, but he didn't really expect this. Somehow. Maybe because the cooking is directed at him? Maybe because he just expects everything to be on the same level as a twinkie or a 3am taco.
Once Flambae has sat down as well, he digs into the pancakes more earnestly, giving a nod to acknowledge that he'll ask for more if necessary. He won't eat too much — he has to get to work on time, and he's going to eat at least one package of twinkies or a chocolate bar later so — but honestly, seconds couldn't hurt right? The glaze ... he wouldn't have ever even thought of that, and it's genius. But you can't just apply the word "genius" to anything that Flambae does, that's insane. ]
I might have some more. But you should eat first.
[ He went through all this trouble, he can't just not feed himself. Robert also glances around the freshly cleaned apartment for a moment. A portion of the mess was Beef ... ]
You should have woken me up. I could have helped.
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Flambae had spent a good, long while gazing at Robert when he had felt the dregs of sleep finally slipping away, terrified at first. The events of last night had been so happy and sudden, a part of him had expected to wake up to nothing, an empty bed and an even emptier apartment, save for a few empty bottles of tequila and half-rolled joints on the table. Then again, the fantasies he's had about Robert and MechaMan have been a lot less realistic, and a lot more violent, too.
Robert looks peaceful when he's asleep, something that doesn't happen all that much during their stressful workday. He's got those stupid long lashes pale men have and don't deserve, and before forcing himself out of bed, Flambae had tried counting some of the ones on his shoulder.]
And how would you like to have been woken, Sleeping Beauty?
[There's that mocking tone again, only this time... It's very much not entirely a joke. More of a suggestion. Flambae is utilizing the kind of tone where he's """joking""" but actually totally serious, provided that the other party is down...]
With a kiss?
Sleep over again and you can help me next time.
[He takes one of the pancakes he had used to test the recipe, a little crispy at the edges. For himself, Flambae adds no glaze or syrup, simply taking a knife to the butter dish and spreading just a tiny dab of butter over it prior to taking a bite.]
Honestly, these are little sweet for my tastes. But! Counting calories is for cucks, so.
[he says that but with that shoulder to waist ratio of his.... gang... something is going on there]
I might as well join you.
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this is a placeholder but it is stupid jokey fodder here