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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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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The kisses do a lot to calm his nerves, or they would, if he had even a remotely normal level of anxiety. No, his is clinically high level of "AAH-AaAAAAAAHS" are not so easily soothed. Actually, it's maybe best for Flambae that Robert is nodding off, so he doesn't see his now-boyfriend at his most vulnerable.
It's comical, actually, how trepidatious his accented voice is. Maybe Robert will find the vulnerability sexy? For once, he's being truly sincere...]
B-but, Robert...
[ASLKDFJSAKDJFSAKDJFAKSDJFKS]
How can you be so sure?
[Ugh! The sensation of Robert's lips against chest do suddenly revive the stomach butterflies of his youth. God, he thought those stupid things died decades ago.]
You have never seen them.
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Damn, okay, this seems to be really serious. Robert pauses his kisses for a moment to peer back up at Flambae like he's really trying to figure him out. The vulnerability being shown to him is both very attractive and very freaky.
He lets out a puff of warm air, the corner of his lip curling up. ]
First of all, no one but God was meant to see them anyway. Also she was like a hundred years old.
[ He smooths a hand over Flambae's chest, almost like he's petting him. Soothing. ]
Secondly, I have eyes, Flambae. And I've spent a lot of time the past couple of days feeling them up. So yeah. I know.
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Right, of course! They were only meant for God anyway... When Robert puts it like that, it's obvious.
Right before any of the comforting petting, he finds himself miming the sign of the cross. Actually, it's less so that he finds himself doing it, since it's a motion that sort of simply occurs instinctively.]
That is so true.
[To have Robert acknowledge him in any way, especially outside of intercourse or all of its adjacent horny happenings, remains bizarre.
It's what he's always wanted, hasn't he? Malevola had pointed it out two weeks or so before their first date.]
Holy shit! Literally! Fucking literally.
[That large man-bosom of his heaves to and fro whilst he gasps.]
Hoo.
[As the initial surprise settles and Flambae deals with the reverberations of his anxieties once more, all the jumpy, fidgety motions in his body and brain returning to normal, he's left with the dim realization that work tomorrow is going to suck for the both of them.
Fine, whatever. He'll eat shit again and the peanut gallery won't let him live it down, but what if instead of having to lick his wounds by himself, his boyfriend Robert will tend to them again?]
Ah, so... Since tomorrow is going to be some kind of trainwreck shitshow, mmm...
I guess we should say goodnight?
[There's an inkling of doubt in that last syllable.
Like he too doesn't want his blissful night with Robert to end either.]
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Like Mother Theresa's tits.
If his reassurance was successful, that's all he cares about anyway! It's not like he was lying, either. Flambae does have really nice chichis.
It's also true that tomorrow is going to be more of a trainwreck shitshow than it normally is, simply because they're lacking sleep. Mind you, Robert lacks sleep a lot, it's just not usually for reasons like this. So he's not sure how it will all play out. He was certainly giddy enough all day today that it was kind of silly. ]
We probably should if we want to get any rest at all.
[ He lets out a small huff. He doesn't really want the night to end either. Not that work is bad, he just wants to keep feeling and figuring things out with his new boyfriend ... ugh. ]
I think they might get suspicious if we both called out for the day.
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[He wants to ask Robert so many things, most of them silly. Like what his favorite childhood memories are, or what made him laugh when he was trudging around in the MechaMan suit. Surely, he must have had some pretty strange reactions to the thing, especially in the seedier neighborhoods of Los Angeles.]
I was gonna ask you if you'd let me do it, but...
[Flambae lets out a big sigh.
He tries not to question how natural it feels, holding Robert aga.inst his chest as they nod off. That it's nice to get the opportunity to tend to him in private, and that for all his hot-tempered flare-ups, Flambae maybe not-so-secretly loves to do some nurturing now and again.]
We both know the kind of stupid shit they'd come up with if I did that.
[He's quiet for a few seconds, wondering whether he should ask the next question.]
What are you up to this weekend? Other than drinking alone in a room full of... I was gonna say darkness, but then I realize you have that fuckton of lamps now.
[just imagine robert sitting in a room full of insane lamps and nothing else]
Sooooo many lamps.
[God, the guy doesn't even have... Well, he had one singular chair, right? What are the odds he found it in a hallway somewhere. Being familiar with his own disastrous mental health history, Flambae silently reminds himself to walk for telling indicators of depression in his new partner. Sometimes they are a lot more subtle than one would imagine.]
It would be like a crapload of candles, only that shit would just jack up your electricity bill without smelling like cinnamon apples or beachy sea salt.
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He lets out a breath of his own, but it's more a sound of amusement than a sigh. ]
You don't have to ask my permission— But yeah, they'd roast you alive.
[ And they could do it, too, even though Flambae is made of fire.
He settles himself back down against his new favorite spot which is warm, broad, kinda hairy chest, considering the question with a hum. Robert isn't really the make plans for the weekend type.
He does chuckle softly about the lamps. It's a lot of fucking lamps. ]
I was probably going to do that, yeah. Why?
[ He sits up suddenly— so much for settling in — smiling impishly at Flambae. ]
You wanna ask me on a daaate?
[ He is teasing but actually his heart is pounding like a jackhammer. Giddy, silly things like this are still thrilling and exciting because it's new and he isn't used to them and he is, unfortunately, in very, very deep. Perhaps deeper than he realizes.
So yes, he wants Flambae to ask.
Are they actually going to get any sleep? The mystery remains unsolved ... ]
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Flambae's nostrils flare again, although this time there is no threat of violence that accompanies the gesture. He simply glares at Robert with those beady, fiery eyes.
The thing is, he can hear and feel Robert's heartbeat. It beats with such a franticness that he should forgive the dispatcher for being such a moron, but old habits die so hard.]
Mother-fucker.
[He gives Robert a benign push to the shoulder, it's nothing. Considering what he's capable of, perhaps it is clear that Flambae himself is putting on some kind of show.]
You should be the one asking me.
[Even worse, he wasn't going to ask Robert on a date, he was going to fully invite him and his hairy empanada of a dog to stay with him this weekend. By being so annoying, maybe Robert has saved Flambae some embarrassment. Is he going too hard too soon?
Flambae has done his best to remain hopeful on the outside, especially in the past few years or so. Being gay in this respect has helped a lot, he never really held himself to the same standards as poor sister was held, but he still yearned for a long-term lover.
Someone who could grow old with him and know him well... And when it comes to relationships, maybe the assumption is too rude, but Robert will stay with whoever, probably. The guy didn't even consider leaving a job that would have absolutely killed him.]
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And to be fair, he wouldn't even think about being asked to stay an entire weekend because something like that is simply not on his radar. Having something like this barely is, and all they did was fool around a lot and bicker after treating some injuries and failing at eating Chinese take-out.
He's a little disappointed he doesn't get asked, but not too much. Flambae kinda has a point. They're dating now, Robert can be the one to ask. He doesn't have to consider going home and drinking with all his lamps as the only reasonable (Robert, it's not reasonable) option. ]
Do you ... want to?
[ He doesn't have a specific activity in mind. Usually you ask someone if they want to do something specific, right.
Flambae probably also has a social calendar, but whatever. They're dating now... ]
We might actually be able to make it through a meal sometime.
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[Flambae's answer is soft, revealing in what he doesn't say, maybe. He reaches out again, as if that's all he really wanted, tenderly grazing Robert's rough cheek with the thumb of his fully-fingered hand.]
Prism's album release party is Friday night, but...
[The firestarter's amber eyes dart to and fro, studying Robert's face nervously. God, where the fuck would they go? The real answer is anywhere, they could hit up a bar maybe, but that's especially hilarious considering that Flambae is banned from a good number of them in the city. How does one make an adventure out of something when they met under the circumstances of the ultimate adventure, life and death?]
We could maybe go to dinner or something? Somewhere where the bathrooms are crowded or... Extremely fucking disgusting, I dunno.
[To keep the from jumping each other mid-meal.]
We could dress up, maybe?
I haven't seen you in anything that isn't your uniform or your other uniform.
[Flambae feels self conscious all of a sudden despite the two of them being so close. How pathetic is it that Flambe actually can't remember the last time he grabbed dinner with a guy who he wasn't meeting the first, second, or third time.
The last time he had a serious boyfriend, he had also been seriously broke.]
You like sweets, right?
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[ He just. Smiles. Simply. He's happy about it, even if he is the one who had to ask in the end.
Ah, but Prism's album release, that could be fun to go to, too. Or it could be completely chaotic as things involving the Z-team almost always are.
Robert laughs about the bathrooms though. It's not a terrible plan. ]
Yeah. I'm not sucking your dick in a dingy bathroom.
[ Really though he feels fairly confident that he can behave himself out in public. Fairly. As for going out looking sharp, well. He ponders for a moment if he should refuse it just because it's out of his comfort zone and price tag, or because they both know he looks and lives like some kind of bum.
It's not like he's against it though. Definitely not if he can see what Flambae looks like dressed up... ]
I'd, uh, have to go shopping.
[ It's not a no. But also Flambae would probably actually have to shop for him (terrifying) or trust that Robert would find something suitable (also terrifying).
He watches quietly a few moments while Flambae seems to struggle with some inner battle. Boy does Robert understand that the past 48 hours to say the least. To maybe add any sort of comfort, he ducks his head to plant a couple more of those light kisses against Flambae's chest. ]
I do, yeah.
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After all, Flambae might just make him an outfit that's similar to his own supersuit, although instead of flames printed all over the bodysuit, the design would probably feature an overwhelming smorgasbord of tiny penises.
Instead, he chooses to focus his attention on the dingy bathroom comment, finally seeing an opportunity to flirt, especially without the pressure of being around their nosy coworkers.]
Oooooh.
[He shakes his head as exaggeratedly as possible, obviously groggy.]
I can assure you that my dick looks good even in the worst of lighting, Robert.
[He flashes a smile that's more confident than spiteful, and less toothy as well.]
I think I'll learn how to make you want me even if the surroundings happen to literally be dogshit, I mean, this is fucking LA, come on!
[Flambae snickers. For such a seemingly derisive sound, this laugh is a lot more subtle. There's more affection in it than derisiveness.]
Especially if I starve you first.
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