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
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Truly, what kind of existence has he been thinking it's okay to lead this whole time ...
Flambae nearly kisses him and catches himself and that gets Robert to huff out a laugh, because it's appreciate and also so silly. He'll tip his head slightly to at least give a little better access (at least they don't have to worry about his ear getting in the way ... ????). An almost growl like sound nestles in his throat, just ready to let itself out.
But why is being told to spit actually kind of hot too? He must just be delirious with lust at this point.
He does it, though. A bit unceremonious but with some effort to not just ... be a total unsexy mess (like how if you choose to spit at Shroud when you're upside down, Robert no—). At least when you are thinking about how you want to be turned into a pretzel, it really helps you work up some saliva.
That's disgusting I'm sorry.... ]
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He grins, once again in a nearly sinister fashion, that five o'clock shadow scraping against the newly formed bruises. It's actually Robert's lack of polish that makes him sexy, that he's nearly all enthusiasm and no know-how, just the way it is on the battlefield. Even if makes him foolish, there is something rogue-ishly charming about how he will always "go for it," although time and time again it's a bad idea.
Flambae finally begins to jerk them off together, unable to keep himself from getting off on the fact that he's bigger, then moaning loudly against Robert's shoulder.]
What are you doing, Robert?
[It's a miracle Flambae was even able to get out that much. He's trying to keep himself from coming out of spite, maybe.]
Doesn't the whole fucking boyfriend thing mean you're mine now?
Go on.
You can finish.
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At the moment Robert doesn't have the capacity to drag or be witty. Somehow this really has gone on for longer than it probably should have. But can he really be blamed, he's intoxicated on the feel of the other man, from his deliberate fingers (even though some are missing) to the scratch of his whiskers. Who wouldn't want to make moments with their smoking hot (like literally though) boyfriend last?
Which is part of why Robert kind of scoffs at being asked what he's doing. Somehow he manages this in between a throaty moan of his own. ]
I told you—
[ He pants out, breathless. If they finish together, he'd be happy! He wants to say something like that, but he's just too far gone at this point. And with Flambae whipping out the finishing move of "you're mine", unfortunately Robert has to call defeat on this one.
With a mumbled "Oh, fuck-" and a sharp buck forward of his hips, he's unraveled, coming right into Flambae's slippery grip. Not that Robert is paying any attention to that right now. He can't see anything as his vision dissolves into pure white and then bursts of stars. The consequence of holding out for so long is that his release seems to be twice as hard. Worth it though, even if they still didn't quite get all the way. ]
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He plants a kiss on Robert's neck hastily before finishing himself, seeing as he wasn't really far behind anyway. His nose and head drag as he looks down at the messes they've made in their respective laps, dimly registering how lucky it is that none of their unborn sire has dripped onto his all-too-white sheets.
Flambae grins, the expression dizzy and borderline insane, half sinister and half warmly sincere.]
I think lube feels better when it comes from you.
[FOUL!!!! FILTHY]
Is it practical? Eh, fuck no.
But it's nice.
[He wants to ask Robert if he's happy, but he worries he's been asking too many questions tonight.]
Timing these things is a little... I dunno, tricky? We'll get there.
[It's cute that Robert wanted to finish together.
Maybe he should have listened better?
Silently, he tries to quell his guilt by swallowing.
Fuck! That does not work.]
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He doesn't know what his problem is, okay. He knows it's kind of lame. He's just not used to this sort of thing mattering!!
The filthy comment about Robert's natural lube makes him give a breathy chuckle. Because what the fuck comes out of Flambae's mouth sometimes, honestly. ]
Uh, thanks. I made it myself.
[ He shakes his head briefly before planting a small kiss against Flambae's cheek.
Then he leans in quietly, thinking about what to say. He could say they should stop doing this so late when they have to go to the office the next morning. Or that he doesn't want to talk about his weird "equal opportunity" ejaculation thing. Maybe something about how he wants to fuck him next time (or vice versa), but ... nah.
It's kind of nice just to bask like this for a minute.
Though he does kind of sense a little of that guilt, so the minute is eventually broken. ]
You good?
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He leans into the kiss to the cheek, wanting also to stay close to Robert, lingering in silence for a few moments before he's asked what's wrong. Crap, crap, crap-]
I was stunned into silence by how fucking corny that comeback was.
[He wants to embrace Robert, but his hands are... Well, covered in semen, to be quite frank- Can you imagine that when slung into the right hole, this disgusting liquidy substance is responsible for playing a part in the creation of human life... Flambae sits miserably where he is, knowing he should be more direct. Cummy (jesus christ) hands or not, Flambae would like to be held, but voicing that desire feels terrifying.]
And don't give yourself all the fucking credit, okay?
I helped.
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In fact he laughs a bit at Flambae's answer because. Well played. Even if it's not the real answer... ]
I'm sorry.
[ Like genuinely.
But his smile fades just a little and he leans in to kiss Flambae's cheek again. Right now he doesn't really care that there's fluids (they do not need to launch into an exploration of semen and what it's for and what it does) on his fingers. They're both going to need to wash eventually anyway. And brush teeth if Flambae ever wants to be kissed on the mouth again. ]
I'm giving you most of the credit. For the record.
[ He feels adjacent to a virgin and that is really not cool for his pride, but he meant it when he said he wants to learn and try everything and just keep going. So he will. He just hopes that along the way Flambae doesn't feel appreciated or desired or anything like that. It's the complete opposite. The most upsetting part of all of this is that they have to go to work in a few hours. ]
Are you afraid of disappointing me? 'Cause I am... but. I'm happy.
[ speaking of things that might be too gay ... ]
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Call it pathetic, because he certainly would, but it's nice to take part in Robert's intimately sincere shows of affection, especially in the privacy of a place Flambae has come to call home. Not many places have felt like home to him, including and especially the town he grew up, for a variety of reasons. Home has been more about feeling a sense of belonging amongst groups of people, and having the two combined like this is exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Well, he did say he had a love for danger.]
N-No...!
[Is he kneejerk response.
However, after pouting pointlessly for god knows how many seconds or minutes-]
...Yes.
[Flambae keeps himself quiet shortly after, for once not judging himself for the feathery feeling in his stomach when he hears Robert saying that he's happy. He's almost never expressed the sentiment so plainly, has he? Not when it isn't tied directly to work or punishing a bad guy.
There is something so deeply sad about that.
Flambae hopes to god that he's misremembering.]
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You shouldn't worry so much.
[ He really means it! But they do need to get cleaned up before the dreaded DRIED UP CUM becomes a reality. Also sleep does need to happen at some point, but Robert at the very least is used to doing without enough of it. At least this time he's in a comfortable bed.
He's especially warm and content when they are all sparkling clean and he's being held in Flambae's
enormousarms in such a way he never imagined he'd want or need ever but now completely loves.It's funny how he seems to fit just right against the side of Flambae's dorito-shaped body. ]
Seriously though, you're not going to scare me off.
[ Not with sex stuff, not by being too gay, not even by the eye masks or silly robes. It's true. ]
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It wouldn't surprise him to learn that this isn't the kind of fantasy that Robert grew up having. The first time Flambae had been held by another man, his reaction had been one of extreme panic. Men aren't given this opportunity to be vulnerable or needy when it comes to affection outside of just sex, and Flambae can speak from experience that the performance of simply "dishing it out" gets pretty damn tiring, especially after so many years.]
Have you ever considered that maybe I should, you fucking weirdo?
[Ah.
He shouldn't have said that. Immediately, those furry brows press together. This all feels so difficult, and even the rest of the team hasn't made any comments about it, so why, why does he feel the need to-]
I could have killed you that night at the Sardiney-Weenie bar.
[that is not the bar name]
And for that, I... Fuck.
[His broad shoulders tense.
This does not come easily to him.]
Look, I'm fucking sorry, okay?
If you had died, they would have probably sent me back to jail even though so many of those other motherfuckers have actually killed people-
[laskdjflsakdjf]
And, eh.
Let's just say it would have been a crime of passion! Sometimes hatred can be-
[At least this is honest.]
Very passionate.
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What?
[ He starts to get indignant about being called a fucking weirdo, but Flambae keeps talking and that walks Robert down from it.
Trying really, really hard to take the conversation seriously after "Sardiney-Weenie bar".
Genuinely though he can tell that Flambae has something he wants to get off his chest, and the dispatcher gives him room to do that. He's quiet and thoughtful as he glances up into the flame-like flicker of those eyes. An apology for that is ... not what he was expecting at all. In fact, he'd even told Visi that he fully expected that Flambae would incinerate him if he ever found out his identity, right?
It was less surprising that he was almost scorched to death and more surprising that Golem and the others stepped in to defend him. Maybe that was the moment that Robert truly realized that his life could be so much more meaningful than being more than Mecha Man's faceless pilot.
But he doesn't hate Flambae for it. Obviously. Look at where he is right now. ]
I didn't think I was going to get out of that unscathed.
[ He answers quietly, looking down for a few moments before he finds Flambae's face again. ]
You had— have ... every reason to hate me, and yes, I could tell how passionate it was. I'm ... just as surprised as you that this is where we've ended up.
[ Wasn't that obvious with all his fumbling and such? Maybe it wasn't as obvious to anyone but Robert, who knows. He's trying to figure out why it's so important that Flambae gets this through his head though. That yes, his life was very much in danger. Is he supposed to still imagine that it is? That the firestarter will turn on him randomly and just burn him to a crisp .... Well, he'd deserve it at that point really. If he fell so hard he made it that easy to get fucked (in the bad way), that's what he should get!
But he really feels like that isn't what's going to happen.
Maybe he should just respect the apology and let it be what it is. ]
Apology accepted.
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Especially from anyone he's had feelings for. Least of all someone so kind and forgiving, but then again, outside of the hero bullshit, Robert's got a lot to learn and even more life to finally start living. It makes him less intimidating, really.]
You are too damn forgiving, Robbo.
[Flambae says in his typical bitchy tone, only the arm that's wrapped protectively over Robert's waist signals some very different feelings for the slender man.]
When people do you dirty, it doesn't make you feel like you're a useless nothing?
[Oh.
That spoken thought is then followed by one he keeps inside, if only because speaking it aloud might validate it. Robert doesn't really seem to see himself as much of anything, which feels... Oddly complex? He'll be the first to protest an insult, especially coming from Flambae himself, but otherwise lives and acts in a way that suggests that his own life hasn't mattered in any capacity.
Flambae's mind keeps coming back to the shitty apartment, and shame creeps up on him unexpectedly, the clammy fingers of it irritatingly drilling their annoying little nubbins over the knots in his vertebrae. He had been so enthusiastic to find out that MechaMan's residence was a shitty, lifeless hovel, and that in every other regard, Flambae's life seemed a lot less of a shitshow in comparison.
God, he really is an asshole.]
Oh no.
[Flambae bends his head down to press his nose into Robert's hair, pulling him oh so close, the embrace tight. Chances are, he'll be clueless about why this makes Flambae feel emotional, but perhaps that's for the best.]
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But with how he's being held it also seems like his answer was an acceptable one. He doesn't know. Maybe it's a bit complicated between the two of them. but at least they can try to figure it out. ]
So, you just had your tongue in my ass, do you ... not want me to forgive you?
[ He just doesn't know what angle Flambae is coming from with all this, even if he's happy to accept the apology. Even if being held protectively is novel but nice.
When people do him dirty, how does he feel? Not useless or nothing, exactly, just ...
Really, really angry.
It's when he's surrounded by superpowered humans and hybrids and aliens that he feels small. When something bad happens to him, it just feels like that's what was supposed to happen.
So yeah, maybe Robert doesn't see himself as much of anything. Is he aware of that, though? He's not, but he's getting closer to it. ]
Hm? Hey...
[ He finds himself pressed tight against Flambae's body and it's not exactly bad, but he is indeed a bit puzzled why the other hero seems to be so emotional. Once again he's thrown for a loop and not really sure what direction they appear to be walking in. More than anything though he just feels a need to comfort the other, and to let himself be held this way until whatever the moment is passes. ]
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["Forgive me."
He doesn't want to repeat the words. It's not as though he can't hear himself or how pathetic he sounds, unable to suppress how bothered he is by the sudden wash of sensitivity. The way his voice falters even if it's only for a second, wavering in a manner that would suggest defeat.
Sometimes Flambae forgets that others are less likely to hold grudges and let bygones be bygones. The weight of Robert's faith, of his forgiveness, feels heavy. Even his affection is a curse, a vice, because it is the sort of tenderness one feels from years of being repressed, the exact type of clumsy, unencumbered desire that such a needy, insecure creature seeks.
Hopelessly or helplessly, as either descriptor is a good fit, the fiery super pulls Robert even closer, tangling his fingers in the dispatcher's reddish brown hair.]
You could do to be a little bit more careful, Robert.
But "sensible" is not a word I would use to describe you. You're an asshole who's also a nutjob! And, I...
[The next few words are so difficult to get out. He wouldn't even say them, if the chance of either of them disappearing tomorrow wasn't so very possible. Unlikely, he thinks, but in their line of work, it's a higher possibility than it is for most.]
I couldn't be happier that you're here.
[cue a disgruntled groan]
What the fuck!
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Instead of telling Flambae anything like he's not sorry for not being careful or for being soft for the idiot or whatever else, he is just going to roll his eyes (affectionately).
Asshole...nutjob.... ]
You really have a way with words. So romantic.
[ It's a wonder he doesn't have to fight people off from swooning at Flambae's feet, really!
(But also, he's really glad he doesn't have to do that. Because he would. Full tooth and nail.)
He's being held close enough that he can't move a whole lot at the moment, so he just settles with turning his head a bit so he can nestle his cheek against the man's broad chest
yaoi sized. ]Thanks, I'm glad to hear that.
[ He really is, even if Flambae has to act like he's maintaining poison damage gradually every time he says something nice like that. ]
I'll only tease you about it when we're alone and you're least expecting it, don't worry.
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[Flambae scowls, especially in response to the comment about Robert bringing it up later. Look, being vulnerable is hard!]
I can be romantic. I am extremely fucking romantic! I may not have satin sheets, like in the Madonna song, also because they are a bitch to clean, but...
[The exact line he's referring to is "Satin sheets are very romantic / What happens when you're not in bed?"]
I have romantic thoughts about you.
Obviously!
[His nostrils flare as they often do when he's irritated, although poor Robert will now be exposed to the subtle differences between Flambae's bouts of anger. He averts his gaze, turning his head and stubbly cheek to the side, huffing and puffing in a way that makes his chest rise and fall a little too fast.
This is so deeply immature, and he knows! He knows. They should be getting a good nights rest, but a part of him is still deviously plotting to tire the dispatcher out so that come the weekend, he'll need Flambae to step in and take care of him...]
Would you...
[Spoken very nervously-]
Like to hear them?
claws my way back to the yaoi
Hey.
[ He rests his hand gently against the cheek that is now facing him, trying to encourage Flambae to look back at them. Even if the huffs and puffs are immature, Robert does actually feel a bit bad. ]
I'm sorry.
[ He gives his own rendition of the best big brown doe eyes that he can, if Flambae does happen to look at him again. ]
Not if you feel like I'm forcing you to tell me.
[ He does very much want to hear them though otherwise. Even if he knows he'll feel his own childish sort of embarrassment over it. It's just such a new feeling. All of it but especially affectionate affirmations. ]
claws my way back after no internet this weekend as well
One can never be certain why Flambae seems so obsessed with atonement to the point of narcissism, but if one thing is clear, he's never thought too long and hard about it. Maybe it has something to do with feeling wronged as a child, not having been allowed to be who he was by law or societal convention, despite having no option to exist as anything but. There is also a good chance he is somewhat annoyingly determined to be as shitty as ever, and somehow, someway, still be loved. A hopeless fantasy he still isn't entirely sure will ever become reality, no matter how delusional the hotheaded homosexual appears on the surface.
Those fuzzy brows press together as he finds himself irritated by that last bit, not because Robert isn't being kind or gentle enough, but because it's thrown off his groove. There is no way Flambae can be smooth about the shit he wanted to say now!]
I was going to say some bullshit about how I wanted to kiss all the stupid freckles on your body.
[ASLKDJFSAKDJF]
Find some new ones when they pop-up, [here he makes irritated kissy lipsmack noises if that even translates phonetically] blah, blah, blah.
[I CAN'T BELIEVE-]
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He thinks less about how the same is also probably true for himself. Look at the way he seems confused for .2 seconds when his freckles are mentioned in such a cute, positive, affectionate sort of way. Yes even with the "stupid" and "bullshit" parts there. ]
Really?
[ He really ... wasn't expecting that to be the answer. Who's ever even noticed he's got freckles before? Other than his parents obviously but his dad sure didn't give a fuck about things like that. Would Flambae really notice if and when he got new freckles? Would he remember the ones he's already kissed ... ]
What else?
[ Ok maybe he's getting greedy. But this is more satisfying than he imagined it could be. ]
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He looks at Robert, something oddly serene about his quizzical gaze. The fire dancing in his eyes lacks it's typical pettiness or pity, instead truly consuming the image of the scrappy, tender-hearted in his arms. The dispatcher looks a lot better when he's being held properly, although then again, Flambae can't even be certain that's the truth.
He always thought he despised when Robert's deadpan expression would crack, his lips breaking into a wry smile before roasting Flambae in the only way he can actually be devastatingly impacted, but that's not quite right, is it?
Fuck, there's no way he's saying any of that. Even if it does feel-]
Ah-hah.
[The laugh is slight, gentle. Two breaths. Somehow, still accented.]
I don't ever seen you just chiiiiiiill. Like, really chill.
[a pause]
Well, not unless you have totally passed out, sort of a like a donkey... Right before it actually dies. Like, when it makes all the horrible little noises right before its fugly, long-faced body goes through before it finally kicks the bucket, and by that I mean closes its eyes forever...
[ALSKDJFKASDJFKSAJFKASJDKFAJDFKSJDKFJSDKFJDSF]
I'd love to do that for you, sometime.
[see him die like an Ass or help him relax-]
I think I'd like to let you know what it feels like to be, I dunno, really...
Safe?
[For a moment, the insecurity creeps in. Is that really sexy?
Who knows.
To Robert, it might be.]
Your eyes change when you're feeling comfortable.
It makes you look...
[Ugh, this sounds ridiculous, but he's already started-]
More handsome.
[NOOOOOOO WHAT HAS HE DONE
THIS IS IMPLYING HE LOOKS HANDSOME NORMALLY!!!! WHICH he does BUT HE DOESN'T WANT TO SAY IT
EVEN INDIRECTLY]
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It's not wrong that Robert doesn't seem like a "chill" sort of guy. You can't even count when he's at home in his underwear with Beef and some whisky.
But still ... a donkey? A donkey that's apparently in its death throes. ]
What—
[ Seriously what. Does he want to see him die like an Ass or help him relax?? He can guess obviously but it's really important to specify sometimes!
Though the urge to really "what the fuck" all that continues, he at least lets the man finish. Or rather, the urge is swept away by yet another wave of unfamiliar feelings. Safe? Does he know what safe feels like? Surely, he was always safe around his dad and Chase. But look at how he lost part of his ear, is that even true? Even if he was physically safe, when is the last time he's not been on edge or down too low or certain he was going to get punched in the face that day and it'd be the least of his worries?
It gets Robert to settle down against Flambae's
broad, expansive, yaoichest again, just nuzzle his cheek against all the warmth that radiates from it. This shouldn't be safe, this man has tried to incinerate him more than once.But he thinks this is probably something like what safe feels like.
It's safe enough that he can close his eyes and grin a bit and give an answer that's maybe too light for the moment. But that just means that he's comfortable enough to give it. So it's its own answer in a completely different way. ]
You think I'm handsome.
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It's not like I would give some ugly motherfucker a fucking blowjob, Robbo, come on!
[can you hear it in the accent im like is this dialogue biblically correct]
What, did you think you were dating gay Mother Theresa or something?
[He snorts, finally running a hand over the back of Robert's head. Despite his sassy mouth, he can't help but feel a little tenderness at this moment.
God knows how long it's been since Robert's been held like this. Actually, considering the way men are encouraged to behave with their partners, it's likely that he's never experienced this at all.]
If so, you've got the wrong judgmental biiiitch.
[although considering the comment about aunties and candles... there's definitely catholicism in his bloodline somewhere]
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He just sort of laughs, muffled into Flambae's chest. Now that he's settled there, he doesn't want to move. There is also the fact that even he can't last forever without falling asleep at some point in his life. ]
Just let me have it, okay? Just for a few minutes.
[ Yes that's a big ask when he literally just poked fun at Flambae instead of being normal and loving but whatever. ]
Gay or straight Mother Theresa is probably not my type, anyway.
[ Especially not if Flambae is, you know?!
It is likely Robert hasn't experienced this at all. Which is definitely sad, and not something he wants to think about right now. He doesn't want to think much at all, except for about how this is nice and warm and Flambae thinks he's handsome. ]
CW: SUICIDE
Doesn't seem like it.
[His three-fingered hand busies himself with Robert's hair again.]
Between the two of us, [himself and mother theresa surprisingly not himself and robert] I am pretty sure I have the better pair of chichis, although...
[tumbleweed spiritual equivalent blows]
She was a nun, right? So the only other person who saw her breasts was God, probably.
Fuck.
[If he's joking, Flambae is playing things off in a very deadpan manner-]
What if they were better?
[MOTHER THERESA'S TITS????]
I think I'd actually go through with killing myself, holy shit.
[HE IS JOKING]
this icon is robert on the inside
God, why have you cursed him to be into this man.
Thankfully Robert is generally pretty good at defusing a situation, so even if he's dying on the inside, he listens attentively on the outside before he sits up a little to look Flambae seriously in the eyes. ]
Trust me, your boobs are way better than hers.
[ He's just assuming it's true because he has NO desire to see a Catholic saint's tatas or even to think about them and even though she was definitely a young woman at one time he can only picture her as her extremely old, wrinkled self. God please forgive him, but all of this is for the best.
Robert seals the deal by leaning in to place kisses along Flambae's chest. Not to get either of them horny again or anything probably but just to make sure he's taken seriously here. They're good tiddies... ]
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