[Before smiling back defiantly and shoving a second finger into Robert's mouth, the little shit?!]
Damn, Robert.
You've been persistent tonight.
[The change of "heart," or "attitude," is a little performative, true, despite Flambae's desire for intimacy being legitimate. He silences the part of himself that worries that maybe he's running the one man who has showed him actual affection a little too ragged, but the fear is replaced by something wilder.
If there is any hope, any sliver of a chance that Robert actually likes that shitty, tempestuous part of him, it'd give Flambae the sense of wholeness in love that he's filled with a variety of fleshy appendages, fingers, tongues, and toys...
Only better.]
Do you want to see if I could try and fit inside you?
[ He should definitely drink some water. They should both drink some water.
Robert would not be able to deny what that "you did" does to his confidence and also to his general groin area, so it's a good thing his mouth is busy. Let's not examine what it could mean that he enjoys hearing those sounds from Flambae specifically when he has the man's fingers (or what's left of them) in his mouth, either.
They should both be good. But it would seem that that's too big of an ask.
Letting Flambae's fingers free (reluctantly) with a much too erotic pop of his lips and gentle nudge of his tongue, he raises a mildly indignant brow at his boyfriend, and curls his fingers just a little tighter against the man's wrist. ]
Oh no. You're not springing this on me. You started it.
[ Even if there had been leafy greens stuck in Robert's teeth (embarrassing), Flambae is the one who decided to be weirdly sexy and intimate about it, using his fingers and the softening of his voice...
It should be an indication that if he finds that when that accent got thicker it somehow turns him on more that yes, of course he likes the shitty, tempestuous side of the firestarting supervillain-slash-hero just as much as he likes the good and well-behaved parts of him. Robert feels crazy about it, in fact. He's never felt so much about a single person ever in any of his recent or far-reaching memories. It literally is like he's being engulfed in an inferno, and he does not want to leave.
Flambae's question has his heart raging like a hammer. A pulse of something wild and needy settles deep in his stomach. He can feel blood rushing straight into his cheeks and ears and the back of his neck and he averts his eyes for a moment, but gives a single nod.
Of course he wants that. He wants that and everything else, too. And he's trying his best to be patient and normal about it — and he will absolutely keep saying over and over that Flambae is more than just a physical need for him. The physical is just a pleasant addition — but if he's directly being asked, well.
[If Robert feels like his body is being engulfed in flames, Flambae experiences a temporary melting of the mind, like everything between his ears has suddenly molted into a puddle of warm, comfortable goo, rapidly reverting to something solid the second Robert's tongue loses contact with his hand.
Flambae looks back at him, half-lidded and so very frustrated, although it's less angry and more of the kind of half-snarl that he'll sport as a result of desires unmet. He's focused on Robert's face entirely, and even then, he only dimly registers the arch of the brow.
He smiles spitefully, one long, cursed leggy wrapping itself around the leg of Robert's chair and dragging him closer yet again-]
Fine.
Then I'll finish it, Bob-Bob.
[Before he shoves a still wet hand beneath the the fabric of Robert's boxers, stroking him up and down as if to prove a point. He's aggressive, suddenly letting all that gentleness fall to the wayside, because in part he isn't sure that's what Robert wants at the moment.
Flambae presses his nose against Robert the skin beneath's Robert's chipped ear. He's practiced this trick before, blowing air warm enough to the point where he's almost breathing fire, but not quite.]
I know you want me to kiss you.
Why don't ask you nicely?
I'll give you what you want.
[Flambae has no idea that what he's doing to Robert or how he's making him feel is incomparable to other things the veteran hero has experienced. If it's any consolation, he will be (most likely inaccurately) replaying that confession of love on a loop when he's driving to work, and thinking about how Robert had never expected to find him adorable or endearing.
As much as Flambae tries to be silly, it's hard for him to think that way about himself too.
[ They're both in a fine position to be testing the other's patience, really. But Robert rises to the challenge (in more ways than one), even if the jostling of his chair has him losing focus for a few brief moments. How Flambae keeps getting away with that, he doesn't know.
He gasps softly as that still-wet hand finds its way into his one remaining bit of clothing, grunting in only mild protest. ]
Fine.
[ Finishing it is exactly what he wants Flambae to do. To take responsibility, to own up to the horniness. Unfortunately, Robert can only put up so much of a fight with a hand down his underpants and that damnable breath up against sensitive skin. His eyes flutter helplessly as the hand that previously held Flambae captive (rather weakly, but still) steadies itself on the table. ]
Nngh. What is wrong with you?
[ Direct one minute, as far from it the next. He can't figure Flambae or what he wants in this moment out exactly. He thought he knew a few seconds ago, but now it's back to being about kisses?
Maybe Flambae just wants Robert to admit he's greedy. Frankly, he thought that was already obvious. ]
[Flambae doesn't overthink the peculiarities of how, when Robert accosts him, irritated, it doesn't make him angry anymore, especially when he's got a good warm hand on an erection that he will ensure comes to fruition.
To taunt him further, he pauses his furious strokes to allow that wet thumb to trace over any wayward veins he can feel, making direct eye contact with Robert as he pulls away slightly, readying himself to make his move. His poor boyfriend will just have to endure a few seconds of torture, like Flambae is thinking about whether or not he should make good on his promise.
His free, toned-to-fucking-death free arm snakes its way around Robert's waist and pulls him roughly into the Z-team drama queen's lap, and he leans in for a rough-tongued kiss, swinging the other side of his body so that they both fall onto the floor. He does his best to trap a slender Robert between his toned thighs, leering over him after pulling back.
Flambae once thought he'd love to see Robert frightened, having unabashedly jerked off to the idea once or twice*, but what's better is seeing him like this. Tired, angry, and breathing haggard breaths in a fit of erotic, enraged excitement.
*that he remembers]
You know, for all your scorn and dogshit dogma about supervillains, you...
You are little bit obsessed with us, no?
[You will catch him denying this implication every fucking second afterward, let me tell you...]
You've followed the rules. And you're so strict with them, it's like you...
[Poor Robert.
He removes the hand that was in the dispatcher's pants, squishing the lower half of Robert's face with it so that the lips are distorted and coated in whatever, mixture of fluids his fingers had on them, leaning in for another kiss, only to remove his own fingers to deepen the ungodly lipsmashing quickly.
Something about how the taste of his own idiot fingers seems to spoil his indulgence with the object of his unhinged affections.
Flambae leans backwards only slightly, reluctantly, the rest of his entire chiseled physique pressed up against the smaller man upon the floor.]
You hoped they were going to harden up and fuck you up the ass, but they never got you to completion did they?
Not even a quick little rub and tug, hm?
That's okay.
You'll have a lot more fun with me, because is it is me, of course-
[why is this sounding a lot like an irritating evil villain monologue]
[ Robert gives a half-lidded, flat sort of look very briefly in response. No he's pretty sure he does not have any idea what game Flambae is playing at the moment! Does it actually matter at this point, when he's got a large hand stroking his cock to attention, teasing those veins, and he gets the kiss he asked for? No it doesn't.
He moans so deeply into it that you'd think his boyfriend had been starving him. Of course they both know it doesn't take a whole lot to rile him up if you know how, and Flambae has always had a special talent for knowing exactly that. Even before it was sexual or do to any attraction (on Robert's part at least).
Being pulled into that yaoi-sized lap is perfectly acceptable to him — though how does Flambae keep pulling that chair leg trick off?? — but he isn't expecting to be tugged down to the floor as well, and the dispatcher looks genuinely startled for a few moments as he stares up at the man responsible. It was both a dickish move and really kind of hot, so he is a little bit at a loss here ...
but obsessed with villains? More like obsessed with one villain for all of his adult life until recently, and unwittingly shuffled in with the rest, but. Details. ]
Bullshit.
[ He mutters, because there is some instinct in him that even with a complete hard-on he and Chad have to defy one another at least once a conversation.
Not that he gets much else out as he's squished and kissed and there's so much happening in his head and around him that it's suddenly hard to keep track-
His lungs are burning by the time the kiss pulls away, even if it wasn't even that long of a kiss or anything like that. There is also no hiding or explaining away how his dick throbs in response to the perverse picture Flambae is painting as he hovers over Robert. It's not true he would insist, but it's just the way he's saying it, the powerful body pinning him down.
The flamboyant, fire-starting, drama queen is so annoying. Unfortunately, Robert keeps falling for the bait. ]
God, I hate you so much.
[ He breathes out in a tone that definitely says I love you so much. And then he wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue before he parts them as commanded. He doesn't even know what's coming, but he somehow wants whatever it is. ]
He can't be too slow, despite the desire to reach out and caress Robert's cheek. It's his own stupid desire for tenderness that will ruin this, won't it? That's to be saved for later, anyhow, especially if Robert is going to continue feeling that foolhardy affection he admitted for him earlier.
No matter how steadfast Flambae appears or presents himself, he's constantly at war with an envoy of criticism that comes from god knows where. Maybe it's from his double-sided immigrant family, with their hard-hitting and deeply hilarious takes on his outfits and behavior, or perhaps it's from the world, especially the one he was born into that would punish his choice of desire in death.
Seeing Robert here, cursing him in such a loving manner while following his orders, well, it's like a balm to his leaky insides and questionable psychology. He's whipped his body into impeccable, nearly impossible shape, and he is making strides in regards to anger management, but he still feels somehow that there is something deeply wrong with him that isn't to do with his lack of consideration for others or spitfire temper.
He leans in even closer over Robert, sliding the his index and middle finger from his injured hand into the dispatcher's mouth and closes his eyes.
It's easier this way.
Maybe he won't be humiliated if he does this and continues jerking his well-meaning boyfriend off.]
[ Hopefully Flambae knows that the first whiff of unhappiness that Robert gets out of him during this situation will immediately kill his boner. He's stretched awfully thin here, if the near desperate sounds he's making (much to his embarrassment) are any indication, and doesn't actually know how many more times he can handle being offered something only for it to be withdrawn. Especially when he feels like it's because he personally has done something wrong, done something to turn Flambae off or to give him the absolutely wrong idea.
He wants to hold and be held too, later when they're in bed and they're so sleepy they're delirious but can't actually drift off because it would mean spending a little less time together. Both of these moods are surely important, both of them mean something to Robert.
It's just that it's hard to think of being soft when your boyfriend asks you if you think you'd like to try and take his ridiculously sized dick, and he's tackled you to the ground with nasty, heated words— ]
Chad...
[ He manages to breathe out the name before those fingers find purchase in his mouth. And when they do, his tongue presses up against them almost automatically. Even though his cheeks are so on fire his freckles will probably fall off, he closes his lips around them too and sucks.
His hips are trembling beneath Flambae's weight too, trying hard not to buck around with the strokes of that hand around his dick. If he's too thirsty, he will inevitably be denied... or something. He hasn't quite figured it out yet. On the other hand, it's impossible not to react to this, isn't it? Completely impossible, even for a person who's mastered the art of dry and dead expression. ]
2/2
Damn, Robert.
You've been persistent tonight.
[The change of "heart," or "attitude," is a little performative, true, despite Flambae's desire for intimacy being legitimate. He silences the part of himself that worries that maybe he's running the one man who has showed him actual affection a little too ragged, but the fear is replaced by something wilder.
If there is any hope, any sliver of a chance that Robert actually likes that shitty, tempestuous part of him, it'd give Flambae the sense of wholeness in love that he's filled with a variety of fleshy appendages, fingers, tongues, and toys...
Only better.]
Do you want to see if I could try and fit inside you?
no subject
Robert would not be able to deny what that "you did" does to his confidence and also to his general groin area, so it's a good thing his mouth is busy. Let's not examine what it could mean that he enjoys hearing those sounds from Flambae specifically when he has the man's fingers (or what's left of them) in his mouth, either.
They should both be good. But it would seem that that's too big of an ask.
Letting Flambae's fingers free (reluctantly) with a much too erotic pop of his lips and gentle nudge of his tongue, he raises a mildly indignant brow at his boyfriend, and curls his fingers just a little tighter against the man's wrist. ]
Oh no. You're not springing this on me. You started it.
[ Even if there had been leafy greens stuck in Robert's teeth (embarrassing), Flambae is the one who decided to be weirdly sexy and intimate about it, using his fingers and the softening of his voice...
It should be an indication that if he finds that when that accent got thicker it somehow turns him on more that yes, of course he likes the shitty, tempestuous side of the firestarting supervillain-slash-hero just as much as he likes the good and well-behaved parts of him. Robert feels crazy about it, in fact. He's never felt so much about a single person ever in any of his recent or far-reaching memories. It literally is like he's being engulfed in an inferno, and he does not want to leave.
Flambae's question has his heart raging like a hammer. A pulse of something wild and needy settles deep in his stomach. He can feel blood rushing straight into his cheeks and ears and the back of his neck and he averts his eyes for a moment, but gives a single nod.
Of course he wants that. He wants that and everything else, too. And he's trying his best to be patient and normal about it — and he will absolutely keep saying over and over that Flambae is more than just a physical need for him. The physical is just a pleasant addition — but if he's directly being asked, well.
Well. ]
no subject
Flambae looks back at him, half-lidded and so very frustrated, although it's less angry and more of the kind of half-snarl that he'll sport as a result of desires unmet. He's focused on Robert's face entirely, and even then, he only dimly registers the arch of the brow.
He smiles spitefully, one long, cursed leggy wrapping itself around the leg of Robert's chair and dragging him closer yet again-]
Fine.
Then I'll finish it, Bob-Bob.
[Before he shoves a still wet hand beneath the the fabric of Robert's boxers, stroking him up and down as if to prove a point. He's aggressive, suddenly letting all that gentleness fall to the wayside, because in part he isn't sure that's what Robert wants at the moment.
Flambae presses his nose against Robert the skin beneath's Robert's chipped ear. He's practiced this trick before, blowing air warm enough to the point where he's almost breathing fire, but not quite.]
I know you want me to kiss you.
Why don't ask you nicely?
I'll give you what you want.
[Flambae has no idea that what he's doing to Robert or how he's making him feel is incomparable to other things the veteran hero has experienced. If it's any consolation, he will be (most likely inaccurately) replaying that confession of love on a loop when he's driving to work, and thinking about how Robert had never expected to find him adorable or endearing.
As much as Flambae tries to be silly, it's hard for him to think that way about himself too.
Especially when it gets too quiet.]
I'd just like to hear you say it.
no subject
He gasps softly as that still-wet hand finds its way into his one remaining bit of clothing, grunting in only mild protest. ]
Fine.
[ Finishing it is exactly what he wants Flambae to do. To take responsibility, to own up to the horniness. Unfortunately, Robert can only put up so much of a fight with a hand down his underpants and that damnable breath up against sensitive skin. His eyes flutter helplessly as the hand that previously held Flambae captive (rather weakly, but still) steadies itself on the table. ]
Nngh. What is wrong with you?
[ Direct one minute, as far from it the next. He can't figure Flambae or what he wants in this moment out exactly. He thought he knew a few seconds ago, but now it's back to being about kisses?
Maybe Flambae just wants Robert to admit he's greedy. Frankly, he thought that was already obvious. ]
I want you to kiss me.
no subject
[Flambae doesn't overthink the peculiarities of how, when Robert accosts him, irritated, it doesn't make him angry anymore, especially when he's got a good warm hand on an erection that he will ensure comes to fruition.
To taunt him further, he pauses his furious strokes to allow that wet thumb to trace over any wayward veins he can feel, making direct eye contact with Robert as he pulls away slightly, readying himself to make his move. His poor boyfriend will just have to endure a few seconds of torture, like Flambae is thinking about whether or not he should make good on his promise.
His free, toned-to-fucking-death free arm snakes its way around Robert's waist and pulls him roughly into the Z-team drama queen's lap, and he leans in for a rough-tongued kiss, swinging the other side of his body so that they both fall onto the floor. He does his best to trap a slender Robert between his toned thighs, leering over him after pulling back.
Flambae once thought he'd love to see Robert frightened, having unabashedly jerked off to the idea once or twice*, but what's better is seeing him like this. Tired, angry, and breathing haggard breaths in a fit of erotic, enraged excitement.
*that he remembers]
You know, for all your scorn and dogshit dogma about supervillains, you...
You are little bit obsessed with us, no?
[You will catch him denying this implication every fucking second afterward, let me tell you...]
You've followed the rules. And you're so strict with them, it's like you...
[Poor Robert.
He removes the hand that was in the dispatcher's pants, squishing the lower half of Robert's face with it so that the lips are distorted and coated in whatever, mixture of fluids his fingers had on them, leaning in for another kiss, only to remove his own fingers to deepen the ungodly lipsmashing quickly.
Something about how the taste of his own idiot fingers seems to spoil his indulgence with the object of his unhinged affections.
Flambae leans backwards only slightly, reluctantly, the rest of his entire chiseled physique pressed up against the smaller man upon the floor.]
You hoped they were going to harden up and fuck you up the ass, but they never got you to completion did they?
Not even a quick little rub and tug, hm?
That's okay.
You'll have a lot more fun with me, because is it is me, of course-
[why is this sounding a lot like an irritating evil villain monologue]
Who's gonna give you what you want, motherfucker!
But you'll have to beg for it.
[he's so annoying-]
Open your mouth.
no subject
He moans so deeply into it that you'd think his boyfriend had been starving him. Of course they both know it doesn't take a whole lot to rile him up if you know how, and Flambae has always had a special talent for knowing exactly that. Even before it was sexual or do to any attraction (on Robert's part at least).
Being pulled into that yaoi-sized lap is perfectly acceptable to him — though how does Flambae keep pulling that chair leg trick off?? — but he isn't expecting to be tugged down to the floor as well, and the dispatcher looks genuinely startled for a few moments as he stares up at the man responsible. It was both a dickish move and really kind of hot, so he is a little bit at a loss here ...
but obsessed with villains? More like obsessed with one villain for all of his adult life until recently, and unwittingly shuffled in with the rest, but. Details. ]
Bullshit.
[ He mutters, because there is some instinct in him that even with a complete hard-on he and Chad have to defy one another at least once a conversation.
Not that he gets much else out as he's squished and kissed and there's so much happening in his head and around him that it's suddenly hard to keep track-
His lungs are burning by the time the kiss pulls away, even if it wasn't even that long of a kiss or anything like that. There is also no hiding or explaining away how his dick throbs in response to the perverse picture Flambae is painting as he hovers over Robert. It's not true he would insist, but it's just the way he's saying it, the powerful body pinning him down.
The flamboyant, fire-starting, drama queen is so annoying. Unfortunately, Robert keeps falling for the bait. ]
God, I hate you so much.
[ He breathes out in a tone that definitely says I love you so much. And then he wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue before he parts them as commanded. He doesn't even know what's coming, but he somehow wants whatever it is. ]
no subject
He can't be too slow, despite the desire to reach out and caress Robert's cheek. It's his own stupid desire for tenderness that will ruin this, won't it? That's to be saved for later, anyhow, especially if Robert is going to continue feeling that foolhardy affection he admitted for him earlier.
No matter how steadfast Flambae appears or presents himself, he's constantly at war with an envoy of criticism that comes from god knows where. Maybe it's from his double-sided immigrant family, with their hard-hitting and deeply hilarious takes on his outfits and behavior, or perhaps it's from the world, especially the one he was born into that would punish his choice of desire in death.
Seeing Robert here, cursing him in such a loving manner while following his orders, well, it's like a balm to his leaky insides and questionable psychology. He's whipped his body into impeccable, nearly impossible shape, and he is making strides in regards to anger management, but he still feels somehow that there is something deeply wrong with him that isn't to do with his lack of consideration for others or spitfire temper.
He leans in even closer over Robert, sliding the his index and middle finger from his injured hand into the dispatcher's mouth and closes his eyes.
It's easier this way.
Maybe he won't be humiliated if he does this and continues jerking his well-meaning boyfriend off.]
no subject
He wants to hold and be held too, later when they're in bed and they're so sleepy they're delirious but can't actually drift off because it would mean spending a little less time together. Both of these moods are surely important, both of them mean something to Robert.
It's just that it's hard to think of being soft when your boyfriend asks you if you think you'd like to try and take his
ridiculously sizeddick, and he's tackled you to the ground with nasty, heated words— ]Chad...
[ He manages to breathe out the name before those fingers find purchase in his mouth. And when they do, his tongue presses up against them almost automatically. Even though his cheeks are so on fire his freckles will probably fall off, he closes his lips around them too and sucks.
His hips are trembling beneath Flambae's weight too, trying hard not to buck around with the strokes of that hand around his dick. If he's too thirsty, he will inevitably be denied... or something. He hasn't quite figured it out yet. On the other hand, it's impossible not to react to this, isn't it? Completely impossible, even for a person who's mastered the art of dry and dead expression. ]