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)
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... Not before a dry look about him being no fun though, of course.
Twinkies are fun. They're whimsical! (Sure, Robert)
With that hand (incomplete as it is) at his cheek, he feels a little more grounded and less like he's about to drift away into the sun like a lost balloon. But his first reaction to Flambae's reaction is to feel a little hurt. Is he being taken seriously, are their feelings the same or did he really, really mess up right now?
Those subtle fumbles in Flambae's jokes are reassuring though. That's right. This is just how the man is. His ridiculous anecdotes and silly jokes are his own way of dealing with vulnerability. Robert's still learning, but he likes to think he's better at understanding it. Still, it's got his ears flushed red to have the tables turned on him, to hear that he's been waiting for someone to call his own —
Has he been waiting for that? It's only something he's really thought about lately. But there are a lot of things beneath the surface he doesn't realize about himself. Or he hasn't wanted to. —
He lets out a groan, and not the sexy kind, but leans forward to bury his face against Flambae again. If nothing else, he refuses to be looked in the eyes when he's feeling embarrassed. ]
I was supposed to be reassuring you.
[ But he's the one being told it's okay. What the hell. ]
You better appreciate my cajones.
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[Robert isn't looking, which is fortunate, seeing as the fondness in Flambae's eyes betrays him. He lets his hand drift to the back of Robert's head, massaging it with the yaoi palm and remaining three fingers. If he were someone else, he might come up with some inane bullshit about how nice it was to have someone else here, but he isn't just any quasi-homicidal homosexual. Obnoxious and outspoken as he might be, Flambae actually tends to prefer his peace and quiet, his order, and if he despised Robert's company he'd have the man ushered out as quickly and curtly as possible.]
I can always tell that you've gone and cleaned up for me. You would think it was common courtesy, but these Grindr gays have no fucking shame, I'm telling you...
[In all honesty, it worries Flambae, and it terrifies Chad.
His choice in colors is unmistakably loud, but his outfits and general enthusiasm for visual art are ways to keep from having to open his mouth in public. It's not that he doesn't enjoy the right kind of conversation, it's that he hates bothering with stupid ones.
Having Robert around this week has felt like playing house.
Why is he so comforting and pathetic at the same time...]
What are you really getting out of your other place, anyway?
Is it just a locker to store your suit? One made of metal and one made of human skin?
[Why don't you just stay with me, is what he is asking but not spelling out at all in a direct manner.]
If you need a room to jerk off in, my bathroom's a pretty good size.
[he is joking
sort
ok not really]
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Thanks.
[ He's glad that his cajones are approved of. Genuinely!
It feels a little silly to be soothed like this, held in a lover's arms with his three fingers and his yaoi palm rubbing against his scalp. Though he's mostly sobered up, this warm gesture plus any remaining alcohol could almost see to it that he falls right asleep. He isn't going to, there are too many other things going on in his heart and mind to let that happen, but the possibility is there.
Eventually though he does pop his head up and sit back enough to cock (haha cock) a brow at Flambae, the slightest of smirks on his lips. ]
Okay, but you shouldn't have to worry about Grindr gays anymore anyway.
[ And yes he does clean up in general, but especially so when he's going to go and be with Chad. It's important! Robert certainly does not want to be lumped in with the unwashed assholes of random Grindr horndogs. The goal is to be enticing to his boyfriend, after all.
... He just needs to work on his wardrobe. Somehow. Maybe if SDN starts paying him ... ]
As for my place, well. It was kind of my base of operations, when I was looking for Shroud.
[ Obviously he doesn't need to do that anymore. It's clear though that his "home" was never a home. There's literally nothing fulfilling he ever got out of the place, other than coming back to his dog.
As for whether he gets the underlying request of this joke though ...
Maybe he doesn't want to hope too much. Maybe he doesn't want to feel insane again for moving too fast (even though he wants to). Maybe it genuinely goes over his head. Either way, he choses to just go along with the flow of the joke as best he can. ]
Why use your bathroom when I can just do it in your room?
[ That is to say he's joking
but also
he's not opposed to staying.
It's scary and new and weird but he meant what he said. And he does feel safe with Flambae, which is absolutely insane when the guy wanted to kill him not that long ago but it is what it is and he can't take it back at this point. ]
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He blows a raspberry, immediately regretting it, because god, what an ugly unglamorous sound-]
That was not a fart.
[Ah, so Robert is obsessive too (on the note about Shroud).
Flambae isn't the type to think too hard about... Most things, unfortunately, but he does begin to wonder- Was it a way for Robert to distract himself from his grief? Pour his energy into something tangible, like revenge, so he could lock his emotions away and simply not feel anything?
It's not a question he'll ask now.]
You can do it wherever you want.
[That is absolutely not true do not get cum on the upholstery-]
I know you'd rather have me do it for you.
And I could, if you... Uh...
[NO!!!!! NO THIS IS SO CRINGEY AND IT ISN'T LIKE A TIKTOK HE CAN't JUST dELETE-]
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He doesn't even know what to respond about the raspberry or the words that follow it, though. Of course it wasn't a fart...
You know what, he decides to just let that one slide and instead focuses on the weird banter they've got going on instead. Robert likes to think they're on a good path here. This is a positive thing despite how silly or dirty it happens to be. Flambae probably doesn't even have to worry about the upholstery either, as a bonus.
It actually makes him feel better to see the firestarter have his TikTok moment, and he puffs out a small laugh. ]
So are you saying you want to fuck me or not? Make up your mind, Chad.
[ Yes he is using the real name as arsenal once again. ]
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[Flambae rubs the back of his supposedly perfect neck, which is sore, although he's resigned to admit it. Poor Robert, he wants it bad doesn't he, and a part of him wants to deliver on that front. To make matters worse, when it comes to things that Flambae feels he is good at or should be good at, ie, fighting, cooking, fashion, and especially sex, his performance anxiety is at its peak at the slightest inkling of trepidation. Not being one hundred percent confident is even worse.
He bites his thin lower lip, chewing it to a point of rawness that he would only notice during a kiss, once again terrified by his innermost thoughts and desires. Flambae has never been one to feel ashamed of any kind of animal attraction, especially when he knows that it's mutual, but the thoughts he had in the morning when waking up next to Robert were dirty, weren't they?
Pushy even? God, how embarrassing. Like he would ever feel shame for something so natural if it were with someone else.
But he hasn't woken up with someone else for a while.
The others didn't have a habit of staying over, and when they did, the vibes were always off. Awkward, regrettable, opportunistic... Nothing good.]
I think I want something even worse.
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He just really wanted to point out the ups and downs he's being taken on here. It's getting to the point where he might start to question things again.
Unfortunately he doesn't really know how to help Flambae, he's already exposed so much of his heart and mind tonight... ]
Worse? Like what?
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Tonight, can we just be together, without...
[To fail to be im-perfect.
Openly.]
You said you were falling in love with me.
[Admitting that seems to take the wind out of the tall, hairy man.]
And, I fucking believe it, because-
[He stops himself from saying something silly.
Primarily because this isn't.]
I believe you, I just...
When the person falling in love is me, I...
I want to know that I can look at you and fall asleep without feeling any sorrow, you know?
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Hey. Of course we can.
[ His brows furrow, unable to stop thinking, even for a brief second, that he really has made it seem like the physical stuff is all that matters. But no, that'd be silly right? He literally confessed with the L-word and all. ]
I don't know how to tell you more clearly that that's not all this is to me. You're the one making the dirty jokes.
[ He was just going with the flow, you know? Because when he doesn't do that— when he goes with his heart and he's earnest and a little soft instead, it's so much easier to get hurt or feel uncertain or like he's doing something wrong. Or, at the very least, doing it the wrong way ... if there is such a thing.
But it's not really a blame thing either. He certainly doesn't mean it like that. Especially when he thinks that the strange, fiery man has just admitted that he almost certainly is also falling in love? ]
I think you feel like I might just disappear on you. This is all— shit, it's terrifying, like you said. But I'm not going to.
[ Not if Chad gets a little too real for a minute, not if he leans the other way and communicates entirely in wild anecdotes and lewd jokes. He said he was falling in love and that isn't something he's going to say lightly in that sad, dry tone of his. There's not a drop of sarcasm in what he's saying now. ]
You don't have to keep changing your mind, either, if you're doing it to please me. [ He actually almost rather Flambae pull back on the back and forth sometimes. Other times, their roundabouts make him feel energized. It's kind of weird, but it's a good kind of weird he thinks. ]
I'm here to be with you, the rest doesn't matter nearly as much.
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Wanting to give you what you want.
[But he could do to be a bit more straightforward.
He places both arms behind Robert again, ushering him in closer, pulling the smaller man so that Flambae's bearded face is buried in that slender chest. To steady his own heartbeat, he closes his eyes and simply breathes the other man in, basking in the sound of their hearts beating for a few seconds.]
Why don't you stay with me this weekend?
It was nice waking up next to you, you know.
[Ugh.
He hates the sound of his own voice here. It's so... Pitiful. But he'll continue anyway.]
We can even pick up your little poochie tomorrow!
He probably is waiting to be fed some more shrimp.
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Do you really think I'm that difficult to please?
[ Flambae has actually pointed out several times how desperate and yearning Robert is, and it isn't wrong. Even if Robert hadn't been aware himself or maybe even doesn't fully accept it yet either. He doesn't know exactly where this anxiety in the other man is rooted, but he's trying to help it any way that he can. His fingers gently smooth against that well-maintained hair as the face attached to it finds home in his non-existent chest.
It should be noted that it takes a lot for him not to insist out loud that he doesn't only think with his dick. He usually doesn't, actually. But that seems like it would invite a tangent they probably shouldn't take right now.
He blinks a couple of times, not even sure why the invitation takes him by mild surprise. It's really sweet though. When's the last time he was asked for such a simple thing ...
There he goes again, letting himself admit that he's as pathetic as he seems.
Luckily Beef saves the day as usual, as the comment about the shrimp makes Robert laugh a bit. That was terrible actually, but he wouldn't take that night back for anything... ]
I think Beef has had enough shrimp. But ...
[ Waking up next to Chad was nice for him too. It's a no brainer, right? Even if it is a little scary still to think of the commitment this all leads to. He wants that though...and he wants Flambae to want it with him. So he's just going to have to stop being afraid and reach for what he wants for once. ]
That sounds nice.
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He wonders if he should answer.
A part of his frustrations, though certainly not something he'd wanted to question at the time, had been exactly that. Robert seemed encouraging even when the other Z-team members were performing with mediocrity, or so Flambae had felt, while consistently being dunked on. While everyone reading this (ie, myself and Merry) understands that the flamboyant fuckass had absolutely deserved it, his short-sighted, flame-spouting ass had been more than slighted by it.
It certainly doesn't help, in retrospect, that he's been forced to come to terms with the fact that he may have had feelings for Robert since before he even knew his real identity, which is a ridiculous thing he hopes he'll never have to voice out loud again.
Out of fear, he'd dismiss it, and he mostly wants to go straight to bed after relishing the sensation of being held, something he's yearned for often, especially on the nights he thought he'd die alone.]
I guess you could say I am a little sensitive.
You haven't been hard to please after you opened up to me, that's for sure.
[And the idea of them, together. His foolishness has been quite refreshing, actually.]
But you forgive and forget.
Me, on the other hand... I fucking hate the bullshit I remember.
[His grasp on Robert tightens.]
I'm scared I won't be enough for you.
But if you ever feel like that is what is really happening... You should leave.
[Why does he believe the words too?]
You should leave me.
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I don't know about forgive and forget, exactly...
[ He can't help it, the way a sort of amused, sort of exasperated laugh comes out of him at that. After all, how many years did he spend with that empty apartment and a conspiracy board of potential leads all for Shroud?
But he sort of understands what Flambae is getting at. Sort of. It just causes a sharp twisting in his chest to hear that the man would ever think Robert thought he wasn't enough, or that he should leave him. They just fucking got together, and that's huge for him! He can't think about something like that right now. ]
So we talk about it. Or work on it. I'm not going to just leave you.
[ His brows furrow together. Did he not just accept an invitation to stay the weekend? Of course, he understands now that this isn't all in the moment but rather insecurities and past wounds that are bothering Chad. They still have things to learn about each other, which includes some darker shades in their memories. The thing is though, Robert's fine with that. When he decided himself that he wanted to learn everything about this stupid, loudmouth ball of fire, he really meant it. ]
I feel like ... I keep giving you the wrong answer, even for the most simple shit. What can I do? To put your mind at ease.
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By doing too much, perhaps he had let his guard the most down? No, no, it's the whole "lust makes you goofy" situation-]
If you were really saying the wrong thing-
[His breath darts against whatever patch of skin Flambae is nearest to.]
Something in this room would already be on fire.
[Flambae had somehow thought he'd be more ashamed, but Robert's gentle reaction has soothed some of his bubbling worries for now. He'd never really gotten the chance to be with someone who in a way seems so strangely innocent, having had such a strong attraction to passion and danger, but this union is dangerous in a different way.
Can two former enemies really manage to be lovers to the end? Somehow, a love born from a workplace friendship, especially one so tentative as theirs, seems even more questionable than that.]
But don't worry.
I have yet to burn any ex-boyfriends, literally, so~!
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Perhaps this is the wrong thing to do.]
But I got pretty fucking close to burning you, now didn't I?
Mmmmmm.
[Some of the playful terrorism(???) dims in those glimmering eyes, and he looks downwards once again.]
You're doing fine, Robert.
You are flirting with me in your own way.
I'd just to like you to stay here, is all.
I know we see a lot of each other at work, but... It's so different when we're alone.
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It does get a smile out of him to hear that something might be on fire if he'd really fucked up so far. You know what, damn, that's so true. And crazy as that is, he's glad for it. Even huffs softly as he curls against Flambae for a moment.
Robert's the only one nearly burned, and Flambae lost his fingers... these insane instances really do seem to stick out as something significant. Maybe their romance is a dangerous one, or maybe it was meant to be?
Mind you he's not going to be that optimistic just yet. Robert isn't exactly a positive thinking sort of guy. He's just really trying his best to be with this, because he wants it. It feels good and alive and safe even when there are frightening moments and thoughts that try and get in the way.
So this... this is a good start. ]
To be fair, I did run into a burning building.
[ He jokes but it's soft, inconsequential. He regrets how that turned out but he doesn't regret the whole ordeal if it's what set them on the path to being together. So there is that. ]
Work doesn't count. Not with all those assholes around. [ Affectionately. But still. ]
So I'm gonna stay. You want to, I don't know, eat something? Or just lay down?
[ They can also hold each other like this, although Robert thinks he'd rather Flambae wear something softer than a mesh shirt (or wear nothing at all) and he'd like to get out of his jeans. ]
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[Flambae likes the sound of that.
Maybe it's telling, how screwed up it is, to reframe it into something of that variety. It would do wonders for the already strange, uncomfortable feeling that has been impossible to shake since then, something that had seemed unrequited until recently.
He raises his eyebrows suggestively, whistling and clicking his tongue, the first sound ridiculous because of that missing tooth-]
Put it that way, and sounds pretty fucking romantic, Robbo.
[He looks down at the space between the two of them, which is nonexistent, honestly, so he's basically just staring down the tight line between Robert's pecs, which, hey, isn't a bad view.]
Are you hungry?
[Flambae has always wondered about straight or "straight" men and their jeans. He'd much rather Robert walk around in his underwear in their- Er, his- House.]
I do have a few ingredients, but I'd have to make you a salad.
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[ He looks amused, even if that is a little screwed up. It kind of is weirdly romantic though, if you really put the pieces together. Weird how that is. Forunately (or not), that distracting whistle prevents Robert from pondering the whole thing too deeply.
They're here and now, and he's agreed to stay the weekend which feels pretty huge for him, but he's really happy about it. He's watching Flambae look down at his chest and he's feeling pretty good about it.
The smart thing would probably be to eat something too, after the long night and only some alcohol in his system since ... whatever he ate for lunch. But skipping straight to the part where he sheds his jeans and they lay down in bed together and cuddle actually sounds really nice too. Still, he can't just ignore the threat of a salad, and he raises his brow at Flambae almost in a challenge. ]
Can't tell if that was supposed to scare me or not.
[ He actually isn't allergic to healthy food, and he'd definitely eat it if Flambae made it for him (that's still such a weird, new thing. Someone cooking for you... ), but he can't help himself sometimes. Especially around his firestarting coworker-turned-boyfriend it seems.
After a moment though, he puts his hand on the other man's cheek, tries to lift his head so they're making eye contact again. ]
What about you though? I asked what you wanted to do.
[ Other than please Robert. He's already pleased, so Flambae has no excuse. After all the emotions, maybe he's worked up an appetite! Or maybe he also just wants to get cozy... ]
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One week and you're already this dickmatized? 'Bae, I hope for your sake, this bitch isn't stealing your money.
He'd quip back with a diss about how if Robert was stealing his money, he'd maybe somehow be able to afford better clothes. Then again, there's no way this goody two-shoes would do anything of the sort, unless he was spiting Flambae for something shitty he'd done. It sounds a lot more like the kind of thing that would happen in Robert's first days at SDN, and Flambae would absolutely have been furious.
Instead, he gets to be quietly excited, excited and relieved that the interaction could have been tinged with a flicker of the embers that had been burning inside himself. It doesn't matter if it wasn't quite true, he's told worse lies to himself in relationships before.
His chin is tilted upwards, a move that's for the best. He's pulled out of his reverie, and as a result, is forced to react honestly:]
But you need food.
[laskdjflasjdfk]
You are so very terrible at remembering to eat dinner.
[Ah, right, the question...
He does that thing he did at night, where he short circuits, blinking. Look, thinking does not come easily to him, not after all the questionable fumes he's huffed from a variety of international and certainly not FDA-approved hair products, okay.]
I would like to make sure that you have had something to eat, and then...
Rip all of our sweaty clothes off, crawl into bed, still sweaty, probably...
[He nods, as if to confirm his own thoughts aloud.]
And go to sleep!
Yes.
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But since she's not here to mind her own gay business, he gets to focus on Flambae only, watching him quietly as he tries to figure out what emotions he sees in the flickering little flames of those eyes. Of course it ends up still being about Robert. That brings a pulse of gentle embarrassment back up into his ears, the concept of being cared about apparently so much still foreign and almost a bit uncomfortable for him. Almost, because when it's coming from his boyfriend it actually makes him rather happy.
He exhales and then shakes his head. ]
It didn't feel like a "dinner" sort of day.
[ Okay, he knows that the boyfriend in question is going to hate that answer. And Robert almost scolds him for not answering about himself again, but that dazed, buffering look in Flambae's eyes tells him that it's fine and he waits for the rest of the answer and he leans in close to kiss the man against one of his cheeks (face). ]
Okay. We're getting there. [ And that seems good enough for him. ] I'll let you make me a salad then. How's that?
[ He may put a step out of order and get more comfortable though. That means while he's eating either the shirt has to go back on for a few minutes, or the pants have to come off and he's going to eat it in his underwear. He hasn't decided which yet. ]
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Flambae's own tryst with abject misery was not a pleasant one, although his unhappiness was louder and more destructive to himself and others, just like his abilities.
He chews the inside of his own mouth on one side, pressing a palm to Robert's bare chest less, as if signaling that it's okay for him to dismount... You know he should really learn to communicate with his actual words-]
Skipping dinner for the mere possibility of getting some [fiery] dick?
[He does yet another low whistle, okay, he's definitely doing this shit on purpose.]
Damn!
You are definitely gayer than I thought.
[come on robboob... connect the bottomy dots...]
That works for me.
[He huffs, and the words that follow are casually insistent.]
Take off your pants and go sit in the kitchen.
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He's more paying attention to the hand at his chest giving him a little push. Yeah, ok, maybe actual words would have been good, but he understands the gesture well enough, rolling his eyes as he rolls himself up off of Flambae's lap. Also? Definitely doing that weird toothless whistle thing on purpose. He can't deny it at this point, okay. ]
No. That's not what I meant, thank you very much.
[ Just ... the going to the bar where he wasn't at his most comfortable, navigating around Flambae's feelings and hangups and his own feelings and hangups, being tipsy, getting sober, having something close to a boner, losing the boner ... it's a lot okay? Where does a salad factor into that!
Here, apparently. And it is for the best. He really should eat some greens and get some nutrients in that scrawny body of his.
Once he's up on his feet, he does just have to pause a moment and stare at the strange and casual command to take his pants off first. Never mind that Robert was thinking of doing that on his own anyway. ]
Yes, sir.
[ He turns to go to the bedroom to do that, since he'll probably want the pants in there in the morning. Ah, if he's staying the weekend, when they pick Beef up should he also pick up the only other pair of pants he probably owns? He should do that. These ones probably have glitter on them and also smell like a gay bar. ]
Just so we're clear, is this for gay reasons or not?
[ like is he actually getting a salad or has Flambae changed his mind again. JOKING, OF COURSE. He knows which one it is. ]
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It doesn't feel quite right (who is really the boss here?!) Dear god, he will absolutely shut the fuck up about that one.]
The fit of those jeans is fucking unsightly, Robbo.
[So yes! The reason is gay. It's just not the kind of gay reason that Robert had hoped it would be. Flambae would much rather be greeted by the vision of Robert's junk tightly outlined in, what is it, cotton? Than whatever straight male monstrosity Robert had available.
Flambae changes out of his outfit too, in a manner that's so quick it would lead someone to suspect that he had simply engulfed himself in flames and burned straight through it, only the variety of zipping and shrugging noises that follow in tandem seem to prove otherwise. After neatly folding his top and bottoms and setting them aside on the couch, Flambae turns to wash his hands, wincing slightly as he for the first time in seemingly forever notes how the water washes differently over the lost fingers.
He dries those imperfect phalanges with towels, clad in a pair of burgundy boxer briefs, then opening the fridge to check on a few ingredients. There's some arugula, some tuna he could probably sear, carrots, tomatoes, sunflower seeds... And of course, a house dressing that he prepared with some added tomato extract and paprika.]
How do you feel about tuna?
[He calls out over his shoulder, seemingly unaware of all the misery he's put his poor boyfriend through tonight.]
Seared! Not the salad-y kind. Although it will be on the salad, you know?
I don't know.
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And he's fine, really! He is no longer thinking horny thoughts. Well, not on the forefront of his mind anyway. Flambae's plan really does seem good to him, and he's fully on board. He isn't even disappointed they didn't do anything but kiss and touch a little, honest. As usual he just couldn't help one more silly quip.
Still a pretty gay reason though, he will agree with that.
It doesn't matter either way, since he pulls those unsightly jeans off after mumbling something like "I said I was sorry", and puts them carefully in Flambae's bedroom before he emerges again. Yes, he is wearing cotton now. It's comfortable, cheap, and it breathes nice on the goods. At least they're a slight step up in the cool department from "tightie whities" no matter what Malevola might have to say about it.
Unaware of the finger situation, he comes back out and sits himself down at the kitchen table obediently, twisting only slightly in his chair so he can watch Flambae at work. Not just because his yaoi body is good in those boxer briefs, to be honest, but because it genuinely does interest him to observe the man's process. It's another side to him that the dispatcher hasn't gotten to see, and he's so glad to have it now.
He even ends up smiling fondly as he answers. ]
I feel fine about it. I'm not that picky, you may have guessed.
[ he stopped being able to afford "picky" a long time ago. ]
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[He states it plainly, beginning to dice a few of the vegetables at the kind of speed that would imply superhumanity. There's a pregnant pause between them, perhaps ironic for two individuals who could not get pregnant even if they tried, which brings up the question of... Is there an mpreg superhero?! Anyway, he looks over his shoulder at Robert, giving the dispatcher an obvious once over.
His thin lips curve slightly upwards at the sides.]
That pair of underwear is the only cute outfit you've got!
[He turns back to his work, slicing what looks to be tuna steak into pieces, pulling a brush from one of the drawers to pour olive oil on. Why is he painting raw flesh... Is this high culinary art-]
That and your birthday suit.
[While seasoning the tuna with some salt and pepper, he adds in an oddly calm, steady voice:]
So you don't eat on dinner on Fridays?
[The inquiry is deceptively casual. He is up to something, alright.]
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sorry to everyone who cooks i got the order of the tuna searing bs wrong
i've never tried cooking tuna... but i want to...except i'll be thinking of white people meat now
1/2 this is like, muttered i guess but he's also screaming
2/2 this is the first time i have used this icon and he is not like. miffed at robert specifically
1/2 icki help...
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1/?????
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sorry for all these part replies (1/2)
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i love them i wish i did them more
i really need to icon the kissing thumbnail huh.
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last part reply i swear
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