bootyhunter | CALL ME OUT

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CALL ME OUT

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 request

Also 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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That's okay, one day Robert will learn that Beef is always welcome. Flambae will say absolutely nothing about it, because cooing over a cute puffy animal is so not hot and sexy, but Beef's little doggy snores and paw movements at night were so sweet.

He did fart a lot though, which almost made Flambae scream and wake up Robert.

He moves to the door with hesitation. The sounds from his movements are audible, he is absolutely stomping around, but he freezes right before turning the doorknob. He doesn't want Robert to see him like this, he doesn't look good. He hasn't responded to his texts, and it has to be the former hero, since Prism actually has the spare key...

Flambae opens the door, although he says nothing and makes no eye contact.]

[ He'll be happy to know that Beef is welcome. He just doesn't want to mess anything up by moving in with his dog immediately, you know? Even though he and Flambae have already established that being together feels like something that's been a Thing for a while, that it's so natural it doesn't even make sense. Those little insecurities and uncertainties are definitely still there though. Poor Beef. But it makes Chase happy too, so there really isn't a downside.

And maybe sometimes he does want to just be with his boyfriend without dog farts in the way.

Robert is glad the door opens, but feels a little hurt when he isn't even graced with a hello. More importantly, he sees the cut on Flambae's face and instantly frowns. ]

Why aren't you answering?

[ Pushing his way into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him, he reaches out for Flambae. ]

Are you okay? Why did you just fucking leave and—

[ He stops and takes a breath. Okay. ]

Let me help you.

[There's an initial lack of eye contact accompanied by some fidgeting, but Flambae does step aside to let Robert through the door. Even though it may not seem like much, it's a big step.

He fights the urge to kiss him. On the cheek, forehead, lips, whatever.

It's not right.

But it was nice of him to come by in person.]

I'll be fine tomorrow.

[This is what Flambae wanted anyway. His communication about it was nonexistent and reflects his incredibly disastrous lack of ability to effectively express his more vulnerable side, but, eh, it is what it is.]

These boo-boos will go bye-bye-

[He waves on that last "bye," sheepishly and like a fucking idiot, with his shoulders hunched. Somehow, the image of it is so much more comical because he still looks like a giant.]

After I wake up, and I just...

I dunno.

I'm not very fun when I'm not happy.

[ok but that is like. all the time most of the time wtf r u talking about]

Or beautiful.

[He bites one side of his lip. No, this is not a Twilight reference.]

I feel hideous actually.

[Since Robert is reaching for him, he will reach back.

Taking the dispatcher's hand is instinctive. Like Robert sleeping over, this feels right, too.]

Edited 2026-01-23 06:01 (UTC)

[ At least he's allowed to walk inside. Robert is frowning a bit as he studies Flambae, trying to figure him out and finding that it's more difficult than originally imagined. He even tilts his head a little, as if he's trying to make eye contact with this giant of a man who is trying to curl into himself. ]

Okay, and for some reason that means you can't use your big boy words and talk to me?

[ He's a little hurt by it. Only a little, since this is his first time dealing with how ... Flambae deals with things. If he prefers to be alone, then the dispatcher has to learn to respect that. Just ... he really has been worried. He thought something far worse than a torn supersuit and some cat scratches had happened to him.

It's at least a good sign that Flambae takes his hand, too. Robert doesn't feel like he was just a complete ass and barged his way into unwanted territory. ]

You aren't hideous.

[ He's pretty sure he'd win that competition since he has no super healing factors and his entire body is a treasure map with too many destinations on it. ]

I can help you clean it up, if you want. Might make you feel better.

[This is how he deals with things- By either fabricating his own reality or pretending they never happened!

Flambae's expression and posture remain sheepish, but even so, he does gently place a hand on the small of Robert's back and lets him in. He uses ~~one of those Gumby legs~~ to kick the door closed, locking it with the free hand.]

English isn't my first language, okay? Feh.

[He looks away. It's a bad excuse, and for once, it's evident on his face that he knows it, no matter how sour that expression of his is. The mask is slipping, which is an insane statement, considering that he's never once worn a mask in the first place.

To be vulnerable with Robert, truly and completely, he will be opening himself to a massive world of hurt.]

Ugh. I'd rather you skip the wound dressing and just undress me, already.

[So he deals one of his typical deflections, and while he may be implicating the bedroom, he leads Robert to that modest dining room table again, pulling out the other man's chair first. Things like this are ingrained in Flambae's mind to the point where he doesn't think about them anymore.

Loved ones are served food first and sit first. It's a stark contrast with his usual boorish behavior, what with him putting his dirty orange boots on every table that can withstand his weight.

While the other is sitting down, he mulls over whether or not to say the next thing.]

You were worried about me?

Flambae.

[ Robert raises a brow. They both know that's a bad excuse. The dispatcher has heard the man say plenty of colorful things in English, so he's more than capable of telling him what's up! The least he could have done is answer Prism, anyway. But it's moot now, he's here at Flambae's apartment and he's been let inside and they're talking now. So that's fine. ]

Undressing you would be giving you a reward you haven't earned.

[ Maybe that's a little harsh, but listen, he was worried! He still is, even seeing Flambae face to face, flesh and bone and bloody scrapes. Robert does take a seat though, since it's offered to him. He assumes that Flambae will also be taking one. ]

Of course I was. Even if we weren't— [ together? Are they together? They said they were right?? ] You're my teammate. I need to know you're okay.

[ And since they are ... together. He thinks. He's been even more stressed about it. ]

I'm not used to people I care about having some kind of healing factor. I thought— Well I don't know what I thought.

[ But he was worried. Genuinely, even. ]

[There’s some minor angry line-facing as a result of being denied that little treat, although it gives way to something else entirely.

The realization dawns upon him slowly, those furry brows of his curling and uncurling and curling again while he sits down. Flambae’s five fingered hand gingerly supports that angular face of his as the rusty gears in his hot air filled brain are being forced to squeakily then.]

Oh.

[What so recently happened with Chase isn’t lost on Flambae, especially in the light of everything that happened to Robert’s father. The little Flambae had overheard from Shroud and the goons sounded atrocious, and if the absolutely dogshit man was willing to sacrifice an animal for his unnecessary theatrics, god knows what else he got up to.]

Robert, I…

[That hand falters in the air for a moment, going up and down before it settles to hold Robert’s again.]

I didn’t know, or, I did know, I guess and I was being a hotheaded dipshit about it, but…

[And in the most plain of fashions, which is surprising in its own right, Flambae ruminates momentarily before blurting out:]

I’m sorry.

When things get bad for me, I just want to run away-

[these two words are sung in typical flambeezy off-key style with the same melody as that 80’s song with the same lyrics]

The inside of my head was worse than, whatever it is, eh…

[On the outside.]

The people you love, they are… All in this business pretty much, yes? One way or another.

[don’t say it don’t say it-]

As miss Blondie would also say.

[Flambae that is a whole ass band…]

[ The treat is, most likely, still coming later on. If it's any consolation.

For now, Robert tries to hide the wince that comes with Flambae's realization. Yes, he knows it's a bit sad. Robert and his normie friends and family. Even Chase is more fragile compared to the average superhero, all thanks to the cruel side effect of his power. It's not a hand that Robert would have asked for, but it's the one he's drawn.

He takes a moment, and then offers a smile. It's a small one, the only one he can muster in light of such sad thoughts. But it's genuine. He wants to give Flambae some reassurance. At least the little off-key diddy does get him to huff in amusement. Leave it to this bozo to lighten the air. It's not a bad talent to have at the end of the day. ]

Yeah, pretty much. Not like I've had time for anyone outside of the business.

[ Granted that is a self-imposed obstacle, but they don't need to talk about that.

So instead, he gives Flambae's hand a small squeeze, using his free one to reach out and try to tap the flamethrower's chin so he can see that scratch a bit better. ]

I don't have any song lyrics to tell you that you don't have to run. Not from me.

[ But he supposes he still can if that's truly what he wants to do. Just as long as he eventually circles on back to Robert again. Gives him some tiny sign that he's alive and will be well. ]

Are you going to let me clean that up or what?

Fine! The next time I am crashing out from a fucking feels explosion, [that line must've sounded so crazy in the accent] I'll run right into your noodley little arms.

[He allows for his chin to be tilted upwards, trying to still his beating heart. Usually, it's him doing all the annoying toying with the face, on account of him typically being taller. He's chased after bigger men before, Royd included, although the lot of them have proven to be largely disinterested in him. Flambae would gripe about it having something to do with him not being tiny enough to fulfill their stupid baby boy fantasies, but all the men in question would probably cite his abrasive personality and bad temper as their top reasons for ignoring his albeit caked up ass.

Flambae feels mildly embarrassed that he's so excited for Robert to gently take charge, so much so that he snarks just a little-]

That is because the only so-called "music" you listen to is the rhythmic toot-tooting of Beefy's farts.

[Ugh, he should acknowledge Robert's kind words... So annoying... Who needs vulnerability!!!]

Where is he anyway?

[Once again he is dodging all the important questions...]

You should have brought him here.

[ASLKDJFALSDJF]

His eyebrows are very funny, because they are so small and... So round?

I mean, what the fuck does a dog need eyebrows for? Judging you?

He is the one who shits and pisses outside.

Edited 2026-01-25 04:19 (UTC)

[ yeah actually that did sound insane in that accent. Unfortunately, Robert is into it.

And while he's glad Flambae allows him to tip his face like that, the dark circles under his eyes appear to get darker as a whole wave of deflection crashes over him and swallows him up whole. Robert is a grown man, he doesn't need complete reassurance to protect his feefees or anything, but he does wonder mildly if he has made a mistake in following Flambae here. ]

He's with Chase.

[ He sighs a little, letting his hand drop away as he gives Flambae one more long look.

Then his heels are digging into the floor, scooting his chair back as he moves to stand.

It was a mistake, probably.

Flambae is a superhuman. They don't need this kind of checking up on. They have other things to worry about than a scratch or two. They can afford to just fly away without a word to their friends or their boyfriend or whatever. But at the very least, he is glad that this flaming idiot is well enough to just ramble on about Beef's bathroom habits. So that is enough for him. ]

I'll go. See you tomorrow, then? Good as new. That's ... great.

[ He feels dumb. So if Flambae actually doesn't want him turning and shuffling out as quickly as his noodle legs can carry him, he's going to have to put that brain of his into hyperdrive. ]

Oh!

[Flambae gets up immediately as Robert turns away. This is a lesson in communicating effectively and properly, they know each other, but Flambae is one of the least likely teammates to be intimate or vulnerable with anyone on the job. Anything outside of pesky blathering is saved for moments that are off the air, shared for people he really trusts, and that takes a long time and a lot of shared understanding.]

Waitwaitwait, fuck, h-hey-

[He whistles unfortunately, not really helping the dog allegations, but it was something his father used to do when trying to round up a rowdy hoard of fire-powered children. He doesn't block the door, knowing just how awful and terrifying that might be to someone of Robert's stature, instead taking one of the dispatcher's hands and gently tugging him backwards if he's allowed.]

I don't think it'll be good if you go back there, especially if you end up alone.

I'm a little scared you will end up drinking too much and slow dancing with the fucking suit.

[Ugh... Honesty is bullshit.]

I'm very happy you're here, Robert. Really! It's just that, you know, I try to smile as little as possible, because-

[He gestures with the free hand to one of the sides of his face.]

The line-age you get from all that? Very unglamorous.

You don't need to be fixing me up for me to...

[Feel joy just from being around you.

A spark of fire. Happy warmth, the kind that doesn't burn.

Flambae swallows hard.]

Feel good, or whatever.

Are you okay?

[He asks because, in all fairness, he was not happy with how some of their teammates spoke to him today. Oh, woof. Sonar was right, he is whipped.]

Edited 2026-01-25 18:35 (UTC)

[ They clearly have some work to do on the communication front. Robert isn't really surprised, so he doesn't know why he also feels kind of disappointed. He's new to this, he can't just expect to be good at it. He's not even sure that Flambae is good at it, and it seems like he has all the experience one could hope for.

Though he lets his hand be taken and his body pulled away from the door, he frowns at the firestarter and how he imagines Robert spending his free time alone in his so-called apartment. ]

Hey, fuck you.

[ He would definitely drink too much. He would not dance with the suit. The suit is very, very expensive!

Robert watches Flambae, listens to him, and tries to decide how he feels at the moment. He isn't mad exactly, but he had been scared when the man he happens to care about just left without saying anything, refused to say anything. There was no stopping the flashbacks of Chase's body just crumpling to the ground, of being unsure whether he would ever wake up from that hospital bed. He doesn't want to have to sit by uselessly while another person in his life just slips away. But maybe they aren't at the stage where he can express this yet either. He definitely over-worried about this situation, and that's embarrassing, but helping Flambae clean up his injuries is just the way Robert wanted to show his care.

It's frustrating, and inevitably it's the frustration that comes out because he and Flambae need to be antagonizing each other at least once a day in order to function. ]

Can you just — talk to me for once instead of telling me how my dog shits outside or your face is turning ugly—

[ He is well aware of the former. The latter is also simply not true. Robert doesn't even think he's ugly with his body in the state its in.

Not that he expects Flambae to suddenly break down and talk at work, but where's the audience right now? It's just Robert. ]

I feel fucking- [ silly. insane. like he's just come down from an anxiety attack that never even happened. ] I'm fine. You're fine. That's all I needed to know.

[ That Flambae is referring to how the team spoke to him doesn't even occur to him. That's normal... ]

I'll stay if you want me to.

[Those eyebrows of his rise and fall with the swearing. Flambae himself is surprised by the abject lack of anger he experiences in response to that. Before with Robert, their rapport had always been hostile, true, but he's coming to understand that there may have been good reason for that even outside of his own bad behavior. Maybe in a world where he's constantly being cut down, it was a way to push back.

Even if it wasn't always safe to do so.

He lets Robert speak, watching him carefully, giving him a little space to be angry before closing in on some of the distance between them. It should be noted that he is still being tepid about things and taking the time to suss things out.]

I am sorry that life has been so unkind to you and your loved ones, Robert.

[He lost his father, the mother has hardly ever been mentioned, and Robert has been fighting an ugly, uphill battle by himself for over a decade. He's been humiliated on the news by the very people he's run himself ragged to protect, and so this must feel especially daunting.

God, putting himself in the smaller, uglier shoes of other people is so exhausting...

But it is productive. And if Flambae truly wants to change, this is the first step.]

I do not like doing poorly.

Not at what I am supposed to be good at.

I know, it sounds foolish, but... I was worried I had embarrassed you. My feelings, they are a lot when they are happening, and then I'll cool off and try and forget about shit.

You can tend to me if you'd like.

[He almost says that tomorrow morning, most of the work will be unnecessary, but it may be best if Robert finds that out himself.]

If I really feel like I am dying-

[He knows that things are not this easy. In their line of work, sometimes it's just over. A wayward explosion, a freak accident. A bad reaction to a new chemical irritant, and the list goes on.]

I promise I will do my best to try and kiss you first.

I wouldn't want to leave you without saying goodbye.

[ Robert isn't used to hearing words like that.

"I am sorry that life has been so unkind to you and your loved ones, Robert."

No one says that to him or to Mecha Man. They thank him with stupid parades or ribbon cutting or sometimes nothing at all. But they don't really care about him or what he thinks or who or what he's lost along the way to saving them all from innumerable disasters. That kind of concern hasn't even seriously crossed his mind as something he's needed or desired.

But when Flambae says that, Robert just sort of looks like he's been struck across the face. Wide-eyed, a bit lost, like he's gotten the wind knocked out of him and he's one tiny thread away from being unable to breathe. What a silly, weak thing to crumble for. Yet, he feels understood for the first time in a really, really long time.

He'd just wanted it to be okay that he was worried, and hearing an answer like that makes it feel like Flambae is giving him that. Crazy.

He's speechless for a few moments, even as Flambae continues. Of course he isn't embarrassed that the man got hurt, not even a little bit. Robert is hurt all the time, as himself and as Mecha Man. He literally got the entire suit destroyed, so he can hardly feel shame for someone else taking a stumble. Somehow he'll have to make sure that Flambae gets that. But for the moment, he closes a little more of the space, makes a fist and sets it lightly against the man's broad chest.

He wants to grab a handful of fabric for good measure, but the damn suit is painted on.

Oh well. ]

Don't ... say things like that, idiot.

[ But he'd needed to hear it. ]

I don't want you to humor me, just— [ His free hand goes once again to the side of Flambae's face, very lightly ghosting against the scratches he got there. If it's pointless to tend to it, he doesn't want to be patronized. He really is just glad that Flambae is okay enough to say stupid shit and also not to just keep Robert on the other side of a locked door. Seriously! It's enough. ]

I'm embarrassed I worried about your stupid face so much, not because you got hurt. [ He huffs. ] I'm glad you're okay.

[His body moves before Flambae registers that it does, one arm wrapping around Robert's waist instinctively. He hates seeing him so small, so affected. Flambae says a lot about Robert being tiny or malnourished but it is to the former hero's credit that despite every odd stacked against him he still has manage to stand as tall as possible.

A part of him dimly registers that perhaps this might be it. In all of his attempt on Robert's life, maybe this is what he really wanted. The chance to hold him close, to touch him, and to be held in such high regard by someone he had never really managed to shun from his mind.

He lightly rubs up and down the hand that's balled as a fist against his chest, snaking his palm upwards and over Robert's jaw. Flambae offers Robert the slightest flinch when those scratches are touched, but he does allow it.

It feels as though Robert is running over punctures in his soul, something deeper. As though he's fingering the holes in Flambae's destructive ego.]

Well, of course you were worried about that.

[Here, he'll try to be a little jokey.

However, with the way he is cupping Robert's cheek like that, none of the tenderness is meant to be taken as a joke.]

If it doesn't look nice, how are you supposed to enjoy finishing on it later?

[He says this and it's true he will allow it but... Not unless his hair is properly tied back.]

Okay, okay, I will keep all the bumming the fuck out to a minimum moving forward, but...

It's okay to be concerned for me, Robert.

[Said quickly, without any inkling that he has paused to consider it:]

I think about you all the time.

Edited (makes it more gay) 2026-01-25 21:38 (UTC)

[ Now if only they knew that they were each looking at the other and thinking about how they looked so small in these fragile moments. It's nice though, that Flambae has come forward to hold him. It feels ... right. It feels like something he's desired. More importantly, it feels like maybe it's something that Flambae has wanted too. And maybe they're a couple of idiots but they seem to be idiots together.

Robert doesn't let his fingers linger long over the scratches, but he does smirk softly at the jokes. Of course they can't go five minutes without something silly sneaking in. Now that he's feeling less like a ticking time bomb, he doesn't mind it. ]

Yeah, too bad we have to wait for that to heal. Doesn't look like I'll be doing any of that tonight.

[ Since, you know, Flambae has his big strong healing factor to kick in over night or whatever. Sometimes, this man really is a bitch named Robert. But that seems fair!

More seriously, he raises his brows a bit as it's admitted Flambae thinks about him all the time. Now Robert feels like he's the one who could burst into flames right now. Thankfully he's pretty good at looking unaffected. On the outside at least. Inside, his stomach is doing flip flops and his heart is fluttering like a sped up hummingbird. Why was that said so casually, like it was nothing? It's not even remotely close to nothing ... ]

You ... do.

[ His mild confusion turns into that weird, dazed sort of lovesickness again as warmth blooms from his chest. For once it's not because Flambae is standing so close he's radiating heat like a sauna. It's just because Robert feels strangely loved.

So what else can he do but stand forward on his feet a bit so he can lean up and kiss the man. ]

[Flambae isn't given too much tie to stew in his own embarrassment, and if he was, he'd be grateful that Robert doesn't know for just how long that statement has applied. The worst of it transpired while he was imprisoned. When he should have been ecstatic to see his family and grateful for the privilege of being released, he had found himself clamoring at the chance to finally settle the score with MechaMan, that is, if he ever got to see him again.

Robert's reaction, or rather, his initial lack of one, frightens Flambae momentarily. Then he's kissed and all is right again, only his stomach lurches. He returns the kiss with an added aggressive fervor, grabbing Robert's face like he wants to devour him entirely, which to be fair isn't far from the truth in a carnal sense. When the kiss breaks, he gazes at Robert with a mixture of compassion and quiet agony, one hand still on a freckled cheek while the other is still latched around his waist.

Flambae is tempted to press their foreheads together, but seeing as his own is bleeding slightly, he resists.]

Yeah, a lot.

[The closer he looks, the sadder he gets.

There is some self-awareness beneath piles and piles of abject buffoonery, that deep down where he is, he may not deserve Robert's affection but he can certainly do his best to stand by him.]

The first-aid kit is in one of the drawers beneath the medicine cabinet.

Under the bathroom sink?

[He pauses, thinking carefully.]

Their might be a little hair on the floor?

[As he was not necessarily anticipating company...]

I would have cleaned it up if I knew you were-

[cue some imcomprehensible flambae blathering]

I'm not an animal, okay? Well, I guess I am, but only in the sack, alright?

[ Robert wants to know how long that statement has applied, and he might bring it up. But that's for later. For now he's just happy to hear it, and it feels good and right to be in Flambae's arms like this, to kiss him like he means it and to get such an eager response in return. He could stay like this all evening, probably.

But what's more important is taking care of Flambae. Apparently, since the other man wants it now.

His lip curves up in the slightest of smiles, fingers finally relaxing out of that fist he's kept on the too-large-to-be-okay chest. ]

Alright. Get comfortable, then. I'll be right back.

[ He has to slip away from the nice and tender touches in order to fetch the first aid kit. It's a bummer, but surely it will be made up for in no time. The dispatcher definitely does stop at the blathering though and tries very hard not to laugh about it. Some hair on the floor....... please ]

Relax, it's alright. I'm sure I've seen worse.

[ And he goes off to find the stuff!

Though honestly, he would like to find out what kind of animal Flambae is in the sack. But showing him some TLC first and foremost is very important to Robert. ]

[The animal Flambae thinks he is in the sack versus the animal he really is.

Anyway, Flambae will do exactly as instructed (for once) and get comfortable. unfortunately, his version of comfortable is still heavily styled and nearly butt-naked.

At least, on the second date.

Like some kind of tacky photo in a seventies male nudie mag, Flambae has stripped down to his (super)underwear, which is essentially a black g-string with a few garter straps attached to it. The idiot hothead is sprawled out on a clean beach towel he has managed to drape over his bed, sporting those stupid orange Oakleys and posing on his side as though he's modeling for a sunscreen commercial. There's various bruises all over his body from the fight, with the darkest ones being on his left shoulder, right ankle, and upper thigh. He has a large gash diagonally across his chest, stemming from the right shoulder to the left hip, five-pronged, and definitely from something resembling resembling a wildcat paw. also do i have to describe that he is pretty hairy like. i can if you would like merry. hairy, but groomed. hairy, but make it hygiene.

Go ahead, Robert. Ask him about the goofy little rings and strings attached to his cock-sock.]

[ It is actually a bit embarrassing that Robert is almost blindsided by the sight he returns to when he's out of the bathroom (if there was hair on the floor he didn't even notice). When he told Flambae to get comfortable, what else could he expect but this? The beach towel and glasses are both a little wild, but the rest should definitely have been expected. ]

O...kay, that's —

[ Well, before he can comment about the beach roleplay, his eyes go over the bruises and especially the gash across Flambae's chest, and he clutches the first aid kit to himself as he rushes over there. What the fuck, and he'd had his hand right there for so long too! ]

Jesus, Flambae! This is ... [ Maybe it's not bad for a superpowered person but it's pretty bad??? Even with all the body hair in the way. ] This is worse than I thought. You were really just going to wait it out?

[ fucked up, honestly.

Robert sits down right by him and pops the kit open. He'd also grabbed a wash cloth or two while he was in the bathroom so he can clean the man up a bit.

He really does eye the g-string though after a moment, now that his fussing is all prepared. His touch is gentle as he starts to pat at the scratches and talk at the same time like they're just discussing the weather outside in the middle of very normal activities you do on your second date. ]

Were you wearing those underneath the suit?

I was gonna see if it closed up! E-eventually... Or got any less... Red?

[Yes. When people are assigning him higher points after succeeding dispatches, nobody thinks to choose intelligence.

Is he doing that uwu thing with his eyes and tapping his index fingers together... Yes he is.]

You know! More pink and less gooey.

[The cool guy facade certainly dissipates when Robert gets to work, and for a few moments, Flambae is eagerly watching with big goo-goo eyes. This is nice, and soft, in a way that he doesn't get to experience often.

Hm. The underwear question.]

Ah... Yes.

The little strings on the sides, they serve to prevent any unnecessary flossing, you see...

[And then, if he couldn't get any more ridiculous, he does the dance in place.]

Not like this.

Edited 2026-01-27 04:20 (UTC)

[ Flambae gets this look that clearly says "are you even serious right now", though Robert himself doesn't speak it as he continues to gently clean it up.

This man is truly made of bricks and very unfortunately, Robert is extremely, unabashedly infatuated with him. ]

Even with super healing powers, you should know better than that.

[ The scold is light but he means it. It just needed to be said.

When he gets an area cleaned, he blows on it gently to dry it some before he breaks out the ointment to treat it. This is clearly all very routine to Robert, a part of regular daily life for him when he's so often getting himself hurt one way or another. It's nice to have this knowledge when he can use it to take care of people he's fond of, though. It's almost as fulfilling as hero work itself, honestly.

This is just ... going to take a while.

Especially if Flambae keeps stopping to fucking dance around on his beach towel. ]

Okay, that's enough of that.

[ He puts a hand on the man's barely clothed hip to get him to stop the wriggling around. Robert is aware of the floss dance, and he did not need to see it. ]

I'm surprised you've got room in there for any underwear at all.

[ Even if it is literally just a few strings put together. Lord almighty, deliver Robert from this crazy place. ]

[Flambae has been needlessly chatty all night, yet as soon as Robert really gets down to work, he falls silent. The notion of someone who has now twice done him permanent and irreversible harm should be something that dawns on him, but no! He's horny and stupid, and is instead watching Robert's lips as he blows on the ointment, relishing the sensation of the other man's breath against wet skin, even delighting in how the pain from the gash creeps in a little.

He quietly ruminates as he watches Robert's mouth a little too intensely, reflecting on how it feels to kiss him. No matter how sexually charged their banter or previous scuffles were, every time they lock lips, it's clear to him that they communicate best with their bodies. Flambae is then visited by the memory of Robert's head between his legs last night, a sight he had desperately tried to keep his eyes open for despite constantly being overcome with washes of pleasure that had made it difficult to stay focused. If Robert had struggled at all or was a little sloppy, it only would have made Flambae come faster, feeding the fantasy that maybe his cock is the only one Robert's willed himself to try.

A part of him knows that's altogether too foolish. Flambae overcompensates by calling the former hero a loser any chance he gets, but there's no way that's true. He's charismatic and gentle in a way that's sweet and non-threatening, which makes his surprising thirst for violence even more enticing.

What other things does Flambae not know about him? He's excited to find out.

When Robert places a hand on his hip, all caution goes out the window. He flashes the dispatcher one of those sinister flirty smiles and even adjusts his posture so that he looks more flattering in the other's eyes.]

If you were wondering what I was wearing under the suit, all you had to do was ask, Robert.

That's right! This ass is fat, and that's without the help of any fucking fabric, sweetie.

[He looks down at him, this clearly being a once-over, something he's only doing because Robert has shown some interest in him first! Okay-]

Yo, man! You're really good at this.

[Flambae does, in fact, stop moving.

He will place a ~~large~~ ~~yaoi~~ hand on top of Robert's, though.]

Does that mean every time I get hurt you'll come help me feel better?

[ By now, Robert at least knows that Flambae does have these moments where he isn't so talkative. Sometimes he even tends to stay in the background while the rest of the Z-team blabbers and banters away. He assumes that this is just all part of that, and he doesn't mind it. He is indeed a pretty physical communicator himself. He's not so bad with his words when he tries, but he largely stopped trying in his adult life. So this is nice.

Having Flambae adjust himself to look more appealing just makes Robert break into a smile, rolling his eyes up briefly. Totally unnecessary to do when he very obviously at this point likes what he sees. But it's fine. ]

I think it was more fun to imagine, actually.

[ He quips casually, smoothing a little more of that healing ointment on the scrapes over Flambae's chest. Normally he might be getting that giddy, horny teenager kind of feeling for touching his nearly naked man like this, but he is actually really focused on helping him get cleaned up and treated. He'd rather Flambae be comfortable and clean and in minimal pain before he gets any ideas of ravishing him or seeing how much pressure that tiny g-string can take before it just pops off when Flambae gets excited.

But there is room for a couple of gentle kisses against a shoulder or even down against the top of that ~~yaoi~~ hand that's come over his. ]

I've got a bit of practice, yeah.

[ The side of his mouth is tilting in a sort of amused smirk. ]

I will if you let me.

[ Though arguably it would just be best if they kept the injuries to a minimum. That's pretty rich coming from someone like Robert who is definitely going to get scuffed up probably several times still this week, but you know. He rather himself than anyone he cares about. ]

[Imagine?

Flambae’s fiery eyes perk up at that. If they weren’t in the midst of something fairly serious, he’d probe as to whether Robert just assumed he went commando under there, which would imply that maybe, just maybe, the mental image had come up in a fantasy.

A part of Flambae wonders, while he is kissed gently, how on Earth Robert has any compassion left for others after what can probably be described as a harrowing existence with little to no personal reward. Maybe it’s better that the dispatcher hasn’t had his way with half of the superpowered population of Los Angeles, because for some reason he seems to be oddly free of some of the hangups that come with dating in a digital era. Even the way Robert mentions that he’s had practice patching himself up sounds nightmarish. In the time since they ran into each other at the bar, hasn’t Robert been to the hospital multiple times? Flambae has lost a tooth and a few fingers, but he’s hardly blacked out and woken up in a strange hospital room on multiple occasions, healing factor and all that. Then again, it also means he is all the more likely to dismiss something serious.

Robert had asked to talk, specifically, so Flambae steels himself. He may be doing his best to tone it down, but there is no denying that he is a difficult person.]

I think I’d like it if you could, but you are so…

Busted up! Already.

[The barb is delivered with an air of whimsy and fondness, meant to be a joke.]

Are you sure that’s something you want?

2/2

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the lines about robert being there feeling just Right uGH im gonna incinerate

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I AM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT

IT IS NOT EVEN THAT SHORT????

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