Chapter Text
Robert wasn’t nervous about coming into the office today. Not even a little.
He sighed in the mirror, staring at the dark bags pooling beneath his eyes.
Liar. He really needed to work on his poker face.
He took a shot of mouthwash, swishing it aggressively in his mouth. The artificial mintiness stung a bit too much and he spat into the sink, running the tap and watching the foamy spit swirl down the drain.
His tongue slid across the sensitive patch of skin along the roof of his mouth, eyes drifting slowly — inevitably — to the mess of burns and bruises littered across his chest and neck. He watched his ears go pink as he analyzed the damage.
Out of all the damning evidence, one made his pulse thump a little harder, its cheesy shape cartoonishly incriminating.
“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me.”
His skin tingled as he recalled the memory of last night. The heat, that warm bubble of genuine pleasure he hadn’t felt in a long fucking time.
The parting kiss that felt like something out of a Hallmark romcom —
Robert’s chest heaved, rubbing Neosporin across his skin. His heart thundered beneath his palm mockingly, a biological reminder to get a fucking grip.
He cupped his hands underneath the running water and splashed his face, scrubbing his fingers across the flush prickling beneath his cheeks. It also really didn’t help that this would be the first time facing the team since what happened over comms.
The mortification from yesterday still sat fresh in his mind, hot embarrassment writhing in his gut. It was a severe — severe lapse of judgment. A deeply unprofessional moment of weakness that very well could’ve cost him his job, and still could, in theory. Though he highly doubted any of the Z-Team would go off and tattle to Blazer, they liked him far too much for that, for some insane mystery reason still lost on him.
Whatever the case, an apology was in order, effective immediately. Especially to Chad.
Robert blinked. Or — Samir. Still getting used to that.
He sighed heavily, patting his skin dry with a towel. Whatever weird, gooey feelings he had left over from yesterday would have to be tucked away for now — there was a lot of damage control to be done.
Robert tugged on the collar of his shirt for the 4th time now since stepping into the building. Despite his better judgment, it felt like the entire office was staring at him.
He’d done everything in his power to try and hide the burns — popped his collar, buttoned his shirt all the way, which didn’t look great but he was willing to make that sacrifice. He'd even considered picking up some makeup from the drugstore, but then remembered he didn’t know shit about makeup and likely would’ve looked even more conspicuous with discolored foundation slathered all over his neck.
Robert made a pointed effort not to look at the janitorial closet as he passed by, something akin to guilt weeding its way up the back of his neck. He’d triple-checked that there wasn’t any residual from their “romp sesh”, but it still didn’t feel great knowing that Herm would likely be getting his cleaning supplies just inches away from where he sucked Flambae’s dick.
Another chill shot up his spine just at the mental mention of the man. He hadn’t seen him around the office at all yet, much to his relief if he was being honest.
He could just be running a bit behind, which was a very real and very common possibility. The other likely possibility was that Flambae had simply skipped work to dodge him. Robert couldn’t even blame the guy — he very well might’ve done the same, had he less integrity.
The night definitely ended a bit more awkwardly than he had expected. In all honesty, he was more than prepared for Flambae to tell him to fuck off, having gotten all the steamy hate sex out of his system.
He definitely hadn’t expected the soft, hesitant look that crossed Samir’s face right before he’d kissed him goodbye, like he was wading in cold, uncharted waters.
Robert had never seen a look like that on him before, ever. It was cute — and that notion alone made his stomach do all sorts of weird shit inside of him.
He groaned under his breath, dropping into his chair and staring at the ceiling. Fucking ridiculous.
“What’s fucking ridiculous?” A familiar blonde mustache popped up from the next cubicle over.
Robert looked over, giving the older man a weak smile. “Sorry, just—talking to myself. Didn’t know you were there.”
“‘Course I’m here, fucker. I work here, don't I?” Chase hovered up a bit higher, crossing his arms over the divider. “Longer than you ‘case you forgot, Mr. SDN Hotshot.”
“You know what I meant,” Robert mumbled, head swinging back into its upward position.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Chase asked, light amusement in his tone. “You look like you just shit yourself.”
Robert sighed, lifting his hand to rub at his temples. “Occupationally, emotionally, socially? Yeah — you could say that.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “Do I even wanna know?”
“You do not.” Robert shook his head, just the thought of explaining the situation to Chase making him nauseous. “Trust me.”
“I’m out for one fuckin’ day and you already done fucked something up.” Chase chided. “This is why Blazer needs to give me a raise.”
“Actually,” Robert sat up in his chair. “Why are you here? Don’t you have that lab thing today?”
Mandy and Royd had both been working their asses off in the lab studying the properties of the amulet, testing to see if its power was transferable to Chase in any way. So far they’ve made small breakthroughs, but nothing major.
So, with Chase it stayed. Mandy didn’t seem to mind too much at all. In fact, she almost seemed happier. More herself. Like the “Blonde Blazer” persona was a weight lifted from her shoulders, even if it was only temporary.
“Tryna get rid of me now?” Chase shrugged. “Aight. I see how it is. And I thought we were close.” Robert chuckled at the dramatics.
“I actually just came by to drop off this little guy.” Chase dipped down a moment, before a fuzzy head peeked out from the cubicle wall, tongue lolled out lazily.
Robert beamed, reaching out to grab Beef from Chase’s arms. “Heyy, bud,” he cooed, scratching behind the dog’s ear. “Did you have a good time with Uncle Chase? Yeah?”
Beef said nothing, but tilted his head further into his hand, panting happily.
“Did the vet say anything?” Robert questioned, though his attention remained divided.
“The usual shit.” Chase tossed a hand up. “Morbidly obese, needs a diet.”
Robert groaned, setting Beef down on the ground. He sniffed around a bit before curling up onto the pillow on the floor. “Can’t believe I’m paying 80 bucks for them to bodyshame my dog.”
“Right. I could’ve had some hack off the street tell me that for free.” Chase floated beside him, arms crossed. He leaned down to ruffle Beef’s head. “Anyways. I better head out before Blazer tracks me down.”
“Yeah, that’s — probably for the best.” Robert exhaled. “See ya, Chase.”
“And stop sulking,” Chase scolded, pointing a finger at him. “Whatever the fuck you did ain’t worth losing sleep over. We all fuck up. Don’t stew in it.”
If only you knew. Still, Robert felt himself smirk. “Wise words, old man.”
Chase punched his arm, surprisingly hard for an old man. “Fuck off. Talk to ya later, kid.”
In the blink of an eye Chase was gone, leaving behind a bright trail and a gust of wind that nearly knocked the paperwork off his desk.
Robert reluctantly picked up his headset, heaving an exasperated sigh before pulling them on. Alright. No more stalling.
He booted up the monitor, watching in agony as the screen slowly illuminated. Everyone’s icons popped up, with the exception of one. A strange sense of relief washed over him, though the knot in his stomach remained tight.
Casual chatter from the team filled his ears, seemingly unaware of his arrival. Robert coughed loudly, and the conversation fell abruptly silent.
“Good morning, everyone,” Robert started, shocking himself with how normal his voice sounded.
“Morning, Roberto,” Prism snickered, followed by the rest of the team’s sounds of amusement.
“Uh,” Robert cleared his throat, fiddling with his microphone. “Before we get started, I'd like to address the — elephant in the room and apologize for what happened yesterday.”
He really should’ve prepared a proper speech, but it was far too late for that now. Surprisingly, no additional comments were made, so he continued. “The way I conducted myself was highly inappropriate…and I owe all of you a massive apology. As your leader, it’s imperative that I —”
“Did HR crack down on you or something?” Visi interrupted, an odd tone to her voice.
“You sound like you’re reciting a letter of resignation,” Coupé added, also with an edge of concern.
Robert blinked, thrown off by the sudden jump to conclusions. He didn’t wake up to any Gmail CCs, so he assumed he wasn’t getting fired. “…No? I just —”
“Then — why are you talking like a work email?” Prism asked.
Robert found himself at a loss, mouth moving wordlessly for a brief moment. “I…is it such an insane concept that I’d want to apologize for unintentionally cucking you all? God forbid I try and salvage whatever little respect you have left for me.”
Sonar scoffed. “If anything it made me respect you more, man.”
“Yeah, Rob, we’re literally all perverts,” Malevola chuckled, though her tone was somewhat reassuring. “You don’t have to get all prude-y on us, dude. Shit happens. Besides, it was funny as fuck.”
“I should be thanking ye,” Punch-Up chimed in. “I was really starting to run out of things to make fun of you for.”
Out of everything he’d mentally prepared himself for, this wasn’t even in the ballpark of things he’d expected.
“O—kay,” Robert breathed, the nerves that had been eating at him all morning melting away just a bit. “That — went better than expected then, I guess. Doesn’t help the crippling feeling of shame and humiliation but, it’s a start.”
“Worse things have happened over comms,” Golem’s rocky voice boomed. “You’re good, bro.”
Robert hummed. “I find that hard to believe, but thanks anyway.”
“Think of it as a team bonding experience,” Invisigal joked smugly. “Now we all know what you and Flambae sound like in the bedroom. See? Bonding!”
Robert scrubbed a hand over his face. “You guys are never letting this go though, are you?”
A plethora of “nopes” and “absolutely nots” filled the call.
He groaned into his palm, a grin pulling at his lips despite himself. “I should ask Blazer if SDN has any of those Men In Black neuralyzers. Surely that’s a normal thing to ask around here.”
“Normal? Yes.” Punch-Up responded. “Fuckin’ suspicious? Also yes.”
“Speaking of suspicious —” Robert began, squinting. “Does anyone know where Flambae is?”
“Didn’t see him this morning,” Prism answered, and Robert could practically hear her eyes roll. “Though if I know the bitch, and I do, he’s probably running fashionably late on purpose to avoid facing the music.”
“Ugh.” Robert had intended for Flambae to receive a more private apology, which clearly, due to his absence, did not occur. “Can you text him?”
“Already did, Slept in, he said.”
“How convenient.”
“Mmmmm-hm,” Prism hummed. “I personally think he’s being a big baby about the whole thing.”
“I think he’s just pissed Robert made him moan like a girl,” Invisigal teased.
“Visi —“ Robert warned sternly.
“Okay, okay.” Visi surrendered, and Robert could hear her chuckle under her breath. “I’m done. Last one, I swear.”
Robert leaned back in his chair, sweeping a palm across his eyes. “Just —” he grumbled. “If anyone sees him, could you let him know I wanna talk to him?”
“Talk.” Sonar snickered obnoxiously loud. “They’re definitely fucking in the locker room after this.”
Robert’s eyes lit up as he read over the mission that popped up on his screen. “Say, Victor — it looks like Vanderstenk’s girlfriend is requesting another coffee run. Thanks for volunteering.”
“Wh — but —” Sonar sputtered.
“Extra caramel.”
Sonar stammered as Robert wordlessly assigned him to the job. He eventually groaned in defeat, tracker making its way across town. “This sucks.”
“And I’ll find an equally boring and tedious task for anyone else who wants to be a comedian today,” Robert said with finality, crossing his arms. An overlap of reluctant murmurs was heard in response.
“Touché, Robert,” He heard Coupé mutter, sounding almost impressed. “Touché.”