Chapter Text
Robert’s threat proved to be effective, as the shift proceeded successfully without any additional jokes about his sex life.
He slipped off his headset and stretched in his seat before standing up and making his way to the breakroom. Thankfully, the room was empty.
He dropped into a chair, rubbing at his neck. The skin was still sensitive to the touch, not painful by any means, just…irritating. Despite that, he couldn’t shake the memory of how insanely hot it was in the moment, that ridiculous flutter in his stomach making a defiant comeback.
He huffed. Hot yet irritating. Described Flambae to a fucking T.
“So —”
Invisigal materialized beside him suddenly, legs crossed and dangling off the edge of the table. Robert flinched, heart jumping into his throat. She was supposed to be cutting back on the whole “giving people heart attacks” schtick, but old habits tended to die hard. “What happened to your neck?”
Robert tugged at his collar, heat crawling up his spine. “Cigarette burns,” he answered far too quickly, evading her pestering gaze.
Although he wasn’t looking, Robert could still see the way her head lolled to the side in his peripheral. “Thought you didn’t smoke.”
Robert clenched his jaw, cursing to himself. Not only did he not smoke, he’d given Visi multiple lectures on why she should quit smoking. “Uh, yeah. Gave it a shot yesterday. As you can see, it clearly didn’t go very well.”
Visi’s lips twitched. “Right.”
Apparently, he needed to work on his lying, too.
He opened his mouth to further defend his fib, but the rebuttal died in his throat as a tall silhouette stepped through the door, presence immediately kicking up the temperature.
“Whaddup, bitch-es,” Flambae sang, sauntering into the room and leaning against the countertop. Robert couldn’t stop his eyes from skimming over Flambae’s body.
Christ. It was like his suit was an arrow pointing all the way down to his fucking crotch. He glanced back up to see Flambae eyeing him, gaze burning even through the massive shades obscuring half his face.
His typical smug demeanor felt tenser than usual, Robert noticed. Not to the naked eye necessarily, but he could tell through little things: the way his broad shoulders squared, the restless tap of his fingers on the counter, the slight clench in his jaw.
Perhaps the degree to which he was aware of his co-worker’s body language was a little more than what was considered “normal” and “well-adjusted”. Sue him.
Visi’s eyes flickered between their silent stare-off, visibly entertained. “Wow. Sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife.” She raised her brows. “So. Where’d you guys fuck?”
Robert’s head spun. “We didn’t—”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Flambae’s words tumbled over his. Robert glared at him as he waggled his eyebrows.
Visi’s facetious grin only widened. “And suddenly the ‘cigarette burns’ make so much sense.”
Flambae blinked briefly, brows furrowing. His eyes dropped down a bit, before a slow smile pulled at his lips. Robert tugged at his collar again, neck growing hot. “Cigarettes, eh?”
To his horror, Flambae took a couple steps forward into his space, so much so that he could feel the familiar heat that radiated off the other man’s body.
“Y’know, Bob…” Flambae crossed his arms, leaning in. Robert could see that fake tooth again, glimmering ever so slightly against the off-white color of the rest of his grin. He wasn’t looking at his lips. “You should really be more careful around hot shit, hm?”
Flambae’s gaze flickered down again, and it felt like a swarm of birds suddenly decided to wake up in his gut. “Might get burnt.”
Robert gritted his teeth, eye contact unwavering. “We need to talk.”
“Damn right we do,” Flambae immediately shot back. Normally, Robert would want nothing but to knock that shit-eating smirk right off Flambae’s face. Right now? It was doing ridiculously unprofessional things to his brain.
Robert grabbed Flambae’s wrist, ears burning as he stalked out of the breakroom.
“Have fun, boys!” Visi called after them, and Robert just barely caught the lewd gesture she made with her hand.
He pulled Flambae all the way across the office and into the conference room, peering down the hallway before locking the door.
He sighed, crossing his arms. “Look, Flam — Samir. I’m —”
Flambae immediately pulled him in, kissing him with just as much heat as the day prior. Robert’s eyes went wide, mouth falling open in shock, which only deepened the kiss. His heels collided with the door, head thumping back as Flambae continued to feel him up.
“Fuck, Robert,” Flambae groaned against his lips, pressing at the burns on his neck. Robert hummed and swallowed against his thumb, which only made him press harder.
He couldn’t help the way his hands drifted down Flambae’s body, fingers memorizing every dip and divot to his torso. Flambae smiled, warm palms traveling up to grasp the back of his head. It felt like his brain was short-circuiting, overheating from the way Flambae licked into his mouth like he needed him to live.
It wasn’t until Flambae tugged at the nape of his neck that he moaned, immediately snapping him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. He pushed at Flambae’s chest, pulling away.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Robert panted, shaking his head. “It’s like you’re trying to get suspended.”
Flambae lolled his head to the side, rolling his eyes. “Relax, Bobert.” Robert felt a warm hand smooth across his backside. “You always have such a stick up your ass. Your very flat ass.”
“Is this your way of flirting?” Robert deadpanned, blinking.
Flambae gave his ass a rough squeeze, biting on a smirk. “Mmm, is it working?”
Unfortunately.
Robert pushed his hand away regardless, ignoring the way Flambae deflated. “I’m serious. Not here.”
Flambae leaned forward, crowding into Robert’s space again. His eyes traveled, openly glossing over his features before snapping back up to meet Robert’s gaze. Robert raised an eyebrow, expecting some sort of snarky, asshole response.
Flambae sighed instead, backing up. “Fine.” The air around Robert cooled, and he suppressed the small shudder that ran through him as a result. “We’re meeting in the parking lot after evening shift’s over.”
Robert tucked his tongue in his cheek as Flambae nudged him aside, pushing him out of the way of the door.
“That’s presumptuous of you,” Robert teased, unable to stop himself from being a bit difficult. “What if I have plans?”
Flambae turned, snickering in his face. “You don’t.” He stuck his hand in Robert’s hair, ruffling it in a way that made his stomach do something extremely obnoxious inside him. “Later, bitch.”
Flambae slipped out the room and down the hall, leaving Robert alone to thunk his head against the door, groaning. He smoothed his hand over the mess Flambae made of his hair before trailing it down the back of his neck. The skin burned beneath his palm.
“God, what’s wrong with you?” he muttered roughly, almost chuckling at the absurdity of this entire thing. He’d fully expected last night to be a one-and-done hookup, a mutual catharsis of sorts. But he hadn’t even gotten the chance to say sorry before Flambae was all over him again, like they’d never even parted.
Robert rubbed off the heat lingering on his lips, that swoopy feeling returning once more — he’d begun to lose track at this point.
He hung around a bit longer to confirm Courtney wasn’t lurking in the corner somehow and adjusted his collar before leaving the room.
Robert plopped into his chair heavily, slipping his headset on. Beef lifted his head briefly before flopping back down onto his pillow, dozing off. The monitor hummed to life slowly, everyone’s hero icons popping up on the screen again. Everyone’s icons, this time.
“Well, well,” Prism’s voice crackled through her mic. “He lives and breathes. Where the hell you been, Bae?”
“We thought you like, keeled over and died of embarrassment or something, dude,” Sonar added, chuckling.
“Please,” Flambae snorted loudly. “It takes more than an audience to humiliate me. I’m not that damn fragile.” Robert knew that was objectively not true, but Flambae had told him that in confidence, so he kept his lips zipped.
“I dunno…you seemed pretty embarrassed yesterday, lad.” Punch-Up sounded almost apologetic. “Even I was scarlet for ya.”
“Yeah, that was yesterday, idiot,” Flambae spat back. “I blew off some steam and now I’m fucking over it. Alright?”
“Bet you blew something —” Visi coughed.
“O-kay,” Robert raised his voice over the laughter, face growing warm. “Let’s keep discussion of yesterday to a minimum, please?”
“A minimum of what?” Golem asked.
“Zero.” Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. “A minimum of zero.”
“And a maximum of —” Malevola started to say.
“Also zero,” Robert sighed. “Visi. Some teenage wannabe YouTubers are stuck underground in the sewers and the rule from this morning still applies. You’re up.”
“What?” Invisigal complained, groaning as Robert assigned her the task. “Fine.”
“Thank you, Court,” Robert said sweetly, leaning back in his chair. He imagined her flipping him off in return. “Golem, go with her for backup, please?”
“Aye-aye,” he rumbled without protest.
The shift continued normally, with little to no innuendos, thankfully. As the evening went on and the sky darkened through the windows, Robert couldn’t help the way his leg shook restlessly under his desk, watching as the time at the corner of his monitor neared 9.
Fuck. He really should’ve asked for details on what the fuck they were doing after work, because at this rate, the anticipation was going to fucking kill him.
Was this like — a coworkers-with-benefits thing? Something about that notion made his stomach sink, which he chalked up to the inherent weirdness of being fuck buddies with his subordinate, in the technical sense.
Flambae laughed loudly at something Prism said, roping Robert back into the conversation and out of his head. Admittedly, the man laughed like a pug trying to breathe through its nose, but Robert’s stomach flipped anyway. There was no use in denying it — it was really fucking cute.
A mission notification popped up in the corner of his eye before he could think too hard about that revelation.
“Flambae, there’s — ” Robert hovered over Flambae’s icon, only to see the ‘Busy’ status above his photo. He pinched his brow. “Shit, I mean — Coupé, sorry. There’s been an altercation at Crypto Night, and it’s getting physical. Can you diffuse that?”
“On it, Bob-bob,” Coupé deepened her voice, putting on a thick, fiery accent.
The rest of the team giggled, sounding more like a classroom of second-graders than a group of grown-ass adults.
“Damn, Robert,” Flambae sneered. “I know I’m perfect, but there’s only so much of me to go around.” It was subtle, so insanely subtle — but Robert could just barely hear the way his tone shifted defensively, like he was trying not to blow up.
“Sorry, s’been a long day.” Robert shook his head. “Slip of the tongue.”
“More like a Freudian slip, am I right?” Sonar piped up.
“Isn’t that the guy who wanted to fuck his mom?” Malevola asked.
“Well, yeah, but a Freudian slip is when you say shit you didn’t mean to because it’s on your mind.” Sonar sniffed proudly. “It’s a psych thing.”
“Ohhhhh,” Prism said. “So Robert has a — mommy complex?”
Visi chuckled. “Daddy, maybe. Dunno about mommy — ”
“Okay, y’know what?” Robert said, interrupting the slander. “We can talk about my glaring daddy issues some other time. And you’re thinking of an Oedipus complex, which, seeing as I didn’t know my mother, would be pretty difficult for me to have.”
“Ugh, booooo,” Visi jeered. “It’s not fair when you start trauma-dumping on us, sucks all the fun out of pissing you off.”
“Exactly,” Robert smirked. He leaned into his chair and sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Anyways, that’s a wrap for today. Great work, everyone. See you tomorrow.”
Everyone said their farewells and good-nights, logging off one at a time until just one icon remained on the bright screen.
The call remained silent for a while before Flambae cleared his throat. “So,” he started. “What a day, huh, Bob?”
“Tell me about it.” Robert rubbed at the crick in his neck. “They were — a lot today. Sorry.”
“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” Flambae asked. “They’re literally always like that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Robert shrugged. “I guess I just feel responsible this time. It is kinda my fault.”
“You’re damn right about that.” Flambae scoffed. “I’m not made of fucking glass, Bobert. I can tolerate a bit of ribbing. You’re making me sound like a bitch.”
“Right. ‘Cause you’re known for your humility and rock-hard ego.” Robert paused, realizing what he’d said. “Don’t make a boner joke — I think I’ve had enough of that today.”
Flambae snickered softly, a sound that made Robert’s innards do that fluttery thing for the umpteenth time today. “Fine, whatever. Now get off your bony ass and meet me outside.”
“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec.” Robert straightened his spine, stretching in his chair.
“Ah, right, forgot you’re a senior citizen.”
“You’re literally older than me.”
“Yeah, but you’re old, like, spiritually,” Flambae snorted. “I literally heard your knees snap-crackle-popping yesterday. Almost called an ambulance.”
Robert raised a brow. “Was that before or after you begged me to suck your dick?”
Flambae huffed, and Robert could practically see his face flush. “Fuck off. I almost forgot what a fucking bitch you are. Thanks for the reminder.”
Robert could feel the dumb grin tugging at his lips and realized he didn’t care. “Happy to jog your memory.”
“Just get out here.”
“I’ll be there in 5.”
Flambae’s icon finally vanished, leaving Robert to the warm hum of his computer.
He shut off the monitor and leaned down to pick Beef up from his pillow. The dog sniffed at him sleepily before licking a stripe up his nose and cheek. Robert chuckled, giving his ear a gentle scratch.
He walked down to the lab, only making it halfway before Chase zipped down the hallway, stopping abruptly in front of him. Robert braced against the wind, squinting.
“Hey, Chase,” he greeted. “You wouldn’t mind watching Beef for one more night, would you? I have plans.”
“Like you gotta ask,” Chase held his hands out, and Robert handed him Beef. The dog panted happily, wriggling in Chase’s arms before settling down.
“So.” Chase raised an eyebrow. “How long’s this little thing with Firecracker been going on for?”
Robert coughed. “I’m sorry?”
“I may be old but I don’t have fuckin’ cataracts.“ Chase nodded at him, and Robert remembered the burns on his neck. He felt his ears go hot, adjusting his collar again.
“You certainly attract a type, that’s for sure.” Chase chuckled.
Robert rolled his eyes, groaning. “I’m not talking about this with you right now.” He turned to leave, but Chase followed, hovering behind him.
“Oh, c’mon. I’m askin’ how long you’ve been dating, not about what kinky shit you’re into. Though the burns are doing most of the talking.”
Robert scrubbed a hand down his face, cheeks warm. “We’re not dating.”
“Fine,” Chase shrugged. “You wanna be stubborn about it, be stubborn.” He scratched Beef’s belly, cradling him like a baby. “Have fun on your little date. Beef and I are gonna have ourselves a movie night.”
Robert laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Sounds great. Thanks again.”
Chase waved him off, attention now on Beef. Robert shook his head fondly before heading back to his cubicle, hoisting his bag on his shoulder, and taking a deep breath before finally leaving the bullpen.
His heart thumped in his chest, stomach buzzing with nerves, but he did nothing to stop the smile spreading across his face as he stepped into the lobby, hauling open the doors.