Chapter Text
Robert knew he'd fucked up the moment the words left his mouth.
Seriously, what did he think would happen? He'd tell Flambae he was Mecha Man, the guy that sliced and diced him and got him thrown in prison, and he'd be all, "Nah, man, it's cool. Hey, you wanna eat me out again?" Holy shit was he dumb. At first Flambae had laughed, assuming Robert was playing some sort of weird joke. When he'd realised he wasn't, he'd stormed out without a word.
Robert sighed as he leaned back in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he could feel a headache coming on. It'd been a slow day, thankfully, with very little in the form of what could be considered real emergencies, but that didn't stop the way that spot behind his eyes began to throb whenever he looked at his terminal screen.
When he'd first booted it up he'd excepted the worst. Mainly for everyone to go off at the fact he was Mecha Man. But it was the day after that disaster of a night on Robert's floor, arms around one another as they leaned against his door, and no one had said anything. The fact he was Mecha Man should have been the hot topic of conversation that morning. The fact he hadn't been swarmed by the team asking him a barrage of invasive questions the moment he walked through the door had been unexpected to say the least. In fact, they'd all been acting as if they didn't know he'd spent the last few years of his life flying around in a giant metal suit. It soon dawned on him that it was because they didn't. None of them knew he was Mecha Man. Flambae hadn't said a word, not to the others about Robert or even to Robert about anything, really. Except to bitch at him through his headphones. He'd been doing a lot more of that today, hence, the headaches.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" Flambae snapped in his ear and there was that throb of pain again. "You really don't think I have better things to do with my time than help some old lady with her groceries?"
"I'm sorry, Flambae, but you're the only one available. Everyone else is busy on an assignment," Robert replied, not caring to hide the frustration in his voice.
"Hey, if you want, you can help me get a cat out of a tree," Sonar said, followed up by a, "Ow! The little shit scratched me!"
Punch Up butted in with, "Maybe get a tin of tuna? Lure it down that way? I don't think cats really like being manhandled."
"I know one person that likes being manhandled. My boy Flambae!" Prism laughed, followed up by a few cheers from the others. Flambae was notably absent from the noise. "Oh, that reminds me. You haven't told me what happened with that hot date you had yesterday? Don't think I didn't notice you not answering my texts at all last night."
There was an, "Ooh" from someone and a whistle from another. What were they? A bunch of high schoolers? No, they were a bunch of immature idiots that needed to focus on their jobs and not on what their teammates did over the weekend. His frustration was definitely over them shirking their duties and not at all because he was worried Flambae might say something incriminating.
Flambae scoffed. "Nothing to talk about. He sucked. The date sucked. The whole night sucked."
"And not in the fun way, huh? Sorry, boo. Well, his loss."
And nothing more about it was said. But that didn't mean it was forgotten. Robert still found himself thinking about that night, about how right it had felt to have his body against his own, of his hands running over heated skin and lips that only wanted to taste. The desire to do that again was strong, but he had to push it out of his mind. He knew sure as hell Flambae wasn't into the idea of another tumble on his floor.
From the moment he'd put that headset on he could feel the tension radiating off of every word from the other, every comment and snide remark biting harder than it ever had before. The mix of indifference and slight annoyance he'd had for him before had now morphed into full on hatred. He suspected it was only a mater of time before Flambae finally snapped and burned the whole place down with Robert still in it. Therefore, to avoid any possible property damage or injury, he needed to nip things in the bud before it all got out of hand. He needed to talk with Flambae.
Pressing the button for the private line, Robert said, "Flambae? Could you meet me once your shift is over? In the breakroom, please."
"Oh, damn, what'd he do now?" Invisigal replied, revealing he'd pressed the wrong thing again.
"It's nothing any of you need to concern yourselves with," Robert told her with a sigh. He really needed to remember which button was which. There were only three of them, why was it so hard?
Flambae gave a breathy laugh as he said, "Yeah, I'm not doing that. Unlike you, some of us have lives. I got shit to do, Bob Bitch."
There was a small pang of disappointment in Robert's chest at the return of one of the many old derogatory nicknames the other man had for him. They'd never really bothered him all that much before but faced with it again, he was really starting to miss just being plain old Robert. The name sounded so much more special when he said it.
He opened his mouth to argue, to tell Flambae that it was actually an order, not a request, but quickly stopped himself. That wouldn't get them anywhere but into a shouting match and the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in front of everyone. So, he kept quiet and hoped with a little more time things would grow less hostile. That'd been the hope when he'd started all of this. He'd been working to try and form some connection with them, to make them all a real team, but after the whole fiasco with Flambae, he wondered if that would ever be possible now.
Over the headset came the sound of a branch breaking, a cat hissing, and a large bat person cursing something about bullshit tuna not working.
Going out drinking two nights in a row wasn't something Robert wanted to make a habit of but after the stress he'd been dealing with he figured he'd earned it. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd gotten hammered the night before or anything. A part of him wished he had been, though. Then maybe what happened with Flambae would have made a lot more sense. While Robert had never had a normal nine to five, even he knew fucking your coworkers was a bad idea. And now he had to deal with the mess.
Robert wasted no time in marching up to the bar, ready to order the strongest thing they had available, when a now all too well known flash of black and orange caught his eye. For a moment he though his mind was messing with him due to all the recent stress but, no, there he was, the arsonist himself in the very same seat he'd been at the night before. Robert almost turned around and walked out the bar with a promise to himself never to set foot in the place again. After what happened the last time, it would be the smart thing to do.
"Hey."
Too bad smart wasn't on the menu for tonight.
"What're you doing here?" Flambae asked without looking at him as he sat down.
"I should be asking you the same thing. Aren't there any places closer to your own home to drink?"
Flambae gave him a half shrug as he sipped his drink. "Can't a guy shake things up a little? Besides, the booze here is good."
"It tastes like watered down piss and you know it," Robert said, sounding a little harsher than he'd intended. He did his next words sounded a little softer. "Why are you really here, Flambae?"
"What? You think I've been sitting here for the past hour, hoping you'd show up?"
He did now. "Flambae..."
"You're Mecha Man."
The words were quiet, low enough that no one else around them could hear, but there was a hint of venom in them that Robert couldn't ignore.
"Yes, I am."
The noise of the people around them seemed to vanish, replaced by Robert's own heartbeat thundering in his chest. He'd wanted to speak with Flambae, had even approached him first, but now faced with the prospect he didn't know what to do. For once he didn't have the right words to say.
Flambae, however, decided he would do the talking. "It pissed me off, you know? Knowing the guy I liked took two of my little piggies off the market."
"I think that's what they call toes, not fingers."
"Are you fucking serious right now?"
"Right, sorry," Robert said with an apologetic wince. Then, what Flambae had said actually registered and he asked, "You liked me?"
Flambae let out the most tired sounding groan Robert had ever heard before he harshly said, "Okay, yeah, I like you, alright? With your stupid, big brown eyes and your dumb jokes that are actually pretty funny sometimes and your ridiculously sexy voice that could get me hard even if all you did was read off of a goddamn Chinese takeaway menu."
Okay, he hadn't quite expected all that. Especially not a certain slip up that had the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile.
"I noticed you changing from past tense to present there. So, you still like me, huh?"
"I...you...why.." Flambae stumbled over his words, trying to string together some kind of sentence, a smart rebuttal maybe? In the end he came up with the ever eloquent, "Fuck you, bitch."
"I think that's what got us into this mess, didn't it?"
Flambae grabbed his glass, downing what was left in one go, before slamming it back on the counter and snapping at Robert, "We going back to your place or what?"
That was a hell of a leap he hadn't seen coming. "Are you serious right now? It looked like your fist wanted to meet my face five seconds ago." Hell, with the way he was glaring at him, it still did.
"Oh, I definitely want to deck you. Can still want that and fuck someone. What? You never had angry sex before? It's hot," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Flambae's offer was tempting, a throbbing from a certain part of Robert's anatomy agreeing. But they couldn't do this. They couldn't have a relationship centered around sex and pure loathing. They'd talk this out like adults even if he had to drag Flambae kicking and screaming to do it. "I don't want you to hate me. Let's just start over, alright? Wipe the slate clean. Pretend none of that other stuff ever happened."
"Easy for the guy who still has all his parts to say."
He didn't know what to say to that. Flambae had a point. The things he'd done weren't exactly something a person could simply wave away and act like all was good. Robert sucked in a sharp breath as he tried one more time. "I don't expect you to forgive me. At least not right away. But maybe tonight we could start? Work towards something where you don't want to choke me out every time you see me?"
Flambae was quiet for a moment as he leaned against the bar top. Robert was expecting to be told to suck a lemon (using a far less PG phrase, of course) so, colour him surprised when the other man said, "You want to try being all buddy-buddy? Alright. I'll think about not caving your face in if you answer something that's been bugging the hell out of me."
While he had hoped, realistically, he hadn't expected Flambae to give in so easily. If answering a simple question was the first step toward them not trying to kill each other then he was more than ready to go for it. "Okay. What do you want to know?"
"Why the fuck is your name Robert?"
Of all the things Flambae could have said, that was one he hadn't been expecting. No real idea where to go from there, Robert gave an unsure, "Uh, what?"
"Obviously that's not your birth name," Flambae said with an eye roll so exaggerated it was amazing he didn't hurt himself. "You picked it when you came out, yeah? What I want to know is why the hell you're walking around calling yourself Robert Robertson? Are you that creatively challenged? All the thousands of perfectly good names out there and you couldn't pick something better than Robert?"
His entire body seized as Flambae mocked the name he'd chosen for himself all those years ago. He'd fought tooth and nail to be recognised as Robert so having someone openly chastise it wasn't exactly giving him a warm, fuzzy feeling. But as much as he wanted to snap back, he understood where Flambae was coming from. To most, Robert Robertson was a ridiculous name. Even he had to admit it was a little on the ridiculous side and he would have never picked it for himself if it wasn't for his family. Did he really feel comfortable talking to him about all of that? Not in the slightest. What he wanted to say was it was none of his business, but that wouldn't really help the situation, would it? He could see the way Flambae looked at him, expectantly, waiting for an answer.
Robert rubbed the back of his neck, deciding he might as well take the plunge and get it over with. "It's a family name. Both my grandfather and father were called Robert and I guess I wanted to be named the same as a way to connect with them. My father specifically." He was going to leave it at that. It was a good enough answer. Then he noticed how Flambae was staring at him, leaning on the counter, head tilted slightly and not saying a word, as if he was waiting for him to continue. With a heavy sigh he added, "Which is dumb because I came out long after he'd died. It's ridiculous, right? Making a decision as drastic as a new name in order to please a dead guy." The laugh he let out after that comment had a note of bitterness to it that Robert didn't care to hide.
"Nah, I get it," Flambae said, locking eyes with him. "Names are important. They carry a lot of power. I picked my name because of my old man, too. More as a fuck you than to honour him, though."
"Your dad doesn't like Flambae, huh?"
"Not my superhero name, dumbass. My real name."
That had Robert sitting up straight. He hadn't put much thought into any of the team's actual names. Malevola was the only one who didn't have a hero name, while all the others wore titles like they did their suits. Robert was more than a little curious as to what Flambae went by when he wasn't hitting things or helping little old ladies with their groceries.
Thankfully, he didn't have to suffer the curiosity much longer as Flambae decided to say, "It's Chad, by the way. The new name, not the old one."
"Not gonna lie, it's a surprise. Can't be a lot of guys in Afghanistan running around named after every villain in a teen comedy," Robert chuckled.
"No need to be jealous you didn't think of it first. Not everyone can pull off a name like that." Flambae sat there wearing the biggest grin on his stupid, beautiful face. Robert had to hold back the urge to reach over and kiss him. He felt his stomach dip when the grin faltered and Flambae continued. "So, yeah, I actually orginally was named after my dad. Too bad he turned out to be a really shitty asshole. We were close once but when he found out I was gay, well, we weren't so close anymore. Fuck, I moved to a whole new country to get away from the guy." Flambae was staring at his glass, no doubt thinking about ordering another drink to help him with a conversation that was growing more intense than Robert had expected. There was little surprise that a guy who set fires for fun had issues with his dad, but running to a completely different continent to get away from the guy was for sure one hell of an extreme.
"That must have been hard, starting over in a new place all alone."
"I wasn't alone. I chose here specifically because my sister moved to L.A a couple years before for her job. She wasn't the biggest fan of the name change but she got over it eventually."
Robert let out an inward sigh of relief at the discovery Flambae wasn't entirely alone. He tried not to dwell too much on why he cared so much and instead distracted himself by asking, "Why'd you pick Chad specifically?"
"Liked the sound, I guess? I also wanted something that sounded more American so I blended in better, you know?"
Robert gave him a blank look as he said in his best monotone, "The guy who runs around setting fires while wearing spandex that has his chest hanging out for the world to see was trying to blend in?"
"My tits are amazing and it'd be a crime to hide them from the world, Robbo."
"They are pretty nice to look at," Robert said, doing exactly that. Moving upwards to stare at that spot between his neck and shoulder, his teeth began to tingle as the memory of grazing them along that spot filled his mind. If only he'd bit down a little harder then there'd be a mark showing the world exactly what kind of man Flambae was. Of how he'd spread his legs for someone he barely even knew, begging to be fucked. Robert swallowed. They were having a moment where Flambae was opening up to him on an emotional level and here he was thinking about him opening up in a very different way. Robert cleared his throat as he adjusted himself on his seat then asked, "So, uh, did you change your last name, too?"
He shook his head. "Thought about it but it felt weird. Like I'd be erasing the old me completely or something."
"I get that." Robert's fingers rapped against the counter top, eyes focusing on Flambae far more intensely than what was really necessary. Then, with a smile, he reached out his hand and said, "How about we start over? Hey. My name's Robert Robertson. I like Twinkies, playing with my dog, and when the people I work with do their damn jobs."
Instead of telling him to kick sand, Flambae grabbed his hand and gave him a grin. "Chad Hedayati. I like cooking, setting things on fire, and being fucked within an inch of my life by silky voiced twunks."
"I'm a twunk, huh? Definitely different to being told I have a dad bod."
"Who the fuck said you have a dad bod? Dad bods are hot, sure, but your ass ain't no dad bod."
"You need to have a talk with Invisigal then."
Despite the handshake being long over, neither seemed too keen on letting go. Flambae's hand was warm as well as large and Robert couldn't stop thinking how good they'd look grasping at sheets as Robert plowed into him. He really needed to get a proper bed.
"So," Robert began, wondering how he could approach this tactfully. He then remembered who he was talking to at all thoughts of beating around the bush went out the window, "what was that about coming back to my place?"
"Do you, like, hate being alive or what?"
"You want an honest answer or...?"
Flambae's head was currently in Robert's fridge, full of judgement at what he saw in there. Or more like didn't see. The fridge was home to beer, half a loaf of bread, milk hours away from going off and a jar of near full mayonnaise that was already there. He opened the jar, took a sniff, made the face of a man who really wished he hadn't done that, then tossed it straight into the trash.
"Seriously, how are you surviving like this? You probably live off of fast food and processed crap, don't you?" Flambae said, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter of Robert's sorry excuse for a kitchen.
"It's convenient," Robert answered with a shrug. "Being a hero never left much time for things like meal prep."
"Bullshit. I do this superhero shit too and I still know how to feed myself. There's plenty of good, healthy meals that are quick and easy to make. I'll prove it."
"And how do you plan on doing that? Going to give me a cooking lesson?" Robert's eyebrow quirked upwards as a smile played on his lips. Flambae wasn't angry but was instead in that little sweet spot between annoyed and exasperated that was, well, he wouldn't describe it as cute, but it was for sure an appealing look on him.
"If that's what it takes to put some meat on that skinny ass of yours," he said with a huff. "We'd have to do it at my place because, unlike your shithole, it doesn't look like a scene in Fallout. Do you even know how to properly wipe down a counter, bitch? Grime so old it's calling me slurs while talking about the war."
Robert didn't hear what he said after that, far too focused on how, while he'd been joking about the cooking thing, Flambae seemed to be dead serious. The idea of spending time together outside of work that didn't revolve purely around sex was appealing to say the least. It was also absolutely terrifying. Would that be taking things too far? Casual sex was great but something like this sounded way too close to relationship territory and dating your coworker that you maimed had to be all kinds of levels of bad. But then why couldn't he stop thinking about it?
"The group chat has been blowing up," Flambae said, the abrupt conversation change snapping Robert back to reality. Then taking two beers out the fridge, Flambae popped the caps off against the corner of the counter. Robert would have been annoyed at him using his countertop as a makeshift bottle opener if it didn't already have about a dozen marks on it from him doing the exact same thing.
"What group chat?" Robert asked as Flambae handed him a bottle.
"The Z-Team chat," he said casually as he took a drink.
"I didn't know there was a group chat."
"We don't really add Dispatchers because they don't typically last very long. Usually they don't stay past lunch. I'll add you later."
"Thank you for the honour," Robert said, slightly shocked he hadn't needed to pull it out of him. "So, what're they losing their minds at?"
Robert's decision to take a drink in that very moment was a bad one as he soon found himself hacking up a storm at Flambae saying, "Us."
After the mini coughing fit was under control, he gave Flambae and incredulous look as he questioned, "Do they know about-?"
"That we fucked nasty? Nah. They were just talking shit about what they think I did to piss you off. Except Golem who was asking how you get soy sauce out of a shirt. Which is weird, right? He doesn't even wear clothes." Never had Robert felt more relief in his life. Their secret was safe. The fiasco with HR could be put away for another day.
The two stood in the less than impressive kitchen, quietly sipping on their beers. It was a comfortable quiet. At first anyway. Then Robert found himself looking. Alright, more like gawking as his eyes followed the way Flambae's Adam's apple bobbed every time he swallowed, his lips craving to be on that very spot. Fuck, he wanted to plant his mouth on every part of the man he could reach. And why didn't he? That was why they were both there, wasn't it?
Robert put his now empty bottle of beer on the counter before silently sauntering over to Flambae who didn't complain as Robert plucked his own beer out of his hand. Seeing there was still a little of that golden liquid left, he brought it up to his lips. Knocking his head back, the last of the drink flowed down his throat. But he was more preoccupied with a different kind of taste. Tongue darting out to lick around the rim, taking in any taste Flambae left behind, like an indirect kiss. The entire time the amber eyes of the other man burned into him, paying special attention to every action of his mouth. Then, the moment Robert put the bottle down, Flambae was on him.
Mouths collided as hands began to roam and, much like most other moments between them, it was absolutely brutal. They didn't care for sweet or slow, of gentle touches and butterfly kisses. They wanted to devour one another. Hands tore at each other's clothes, neither giving a damn at any damage their haste caused as they now stood in Robert's apartment in nothing but their underwear. Robert briefly looked down to find the thong this time was an enticingly bright red. He wondered if he'd chosen that one just for him.
There was a whine that, at first, Robert thought was coming from Flambae. Then it happened again and the hero broke the kiss to shoot a glare at the ground. Robert looked down as well to find Beef sitting there, looking up at them with a wagging tail.
"The fuck is with your dog staring at us all the time? It's creepy."
"Aw, don't be like that," Robert laughed lightly. "He just doesn't know what to do with himself now that he's not the only one who calls me daddy."
Flambae glared at him. "I am not calling you that."
Robert smirked and was then grabbing Flambae's wrist and dragging him off to the bedroom, making sure the door was nice and closed so that Beef didn't continue to make things weird. No sooner had the door shut, Robert shoving Flambae against the wall, mouth attacking his neck before moving downwards to focus on his chest. His pecs were so large he couldn't help but give them a squeeze, pushing them together and thinking how they'd look even better with his dick slotted between them. He leaned forward to wrap his lips around a nipple, tongue swirling around the quickly hardening nub, loving the groan it earned him in return. Not wanting the other to feel left out, he rubbed at it with his thumb, occasionally using his index finger as well to give it a little pinch. Whenever he did, he got a little shudder in response.
Flambae liked it rough, that much was obvious from their previous night together. So, when his teeth bit down a little harder than most would enjoy, he wasn't at all surprised when a deep groan bubbled up from Flambae's throat. Robert continued to bite and suck, going at it until he was raw. Then, he moved onto the next one, starving lips replacing busy fingers. He doubted he'd be able to wear a shirt without some painful chaffing for the next few days. Good.
Soon he found himself exploring the rest of his chest, planting rough kisses that left behind hickeys, his pecs becoming a sea of small bruises he'd never be able to hide in that suit of his. That was also good. Robert then decided to do what he'd been wanting since the night before, moving upwards, smacking lips along hot skin all the way until he reached that spot between Flambae's neck and his shoulder. That wonderful spot that was perfect for marking.
Flambae yelled out a, "Fuck!" as teeth sank into flesh, breaking the skin and leaving the faint taste of blood in Robert's mouth. Not letting go, he wrapped his arms around him, hands holding firm to his bare behind as he pulled him in close. A little bit of tooth play and Flambae was hard against him, his dick twitching as Robert ran his tongue along the fresh bite marks.
Robert moved up to whisper in his ear, "You're a bit of a masochist, aren't you? Love it when someone puts you in your place?"
Flambae's answer was an arrogant laugh and a, "You haven't put anyone in their place yet, Mecha Dick."
"Back with the crude nicknames, huh? Whatever happened to just Robert?"
"You have to earn that, bitch."
And he was sure he'd have fun doing exactly that.
One of Robert's hands slide under the sorry excuse of underwear slotted between his cheeks to press a finger to Flambae's entrance. Most likely still a little tender from the absolute beating it'd taken the night before, Robert figured he really should go easy here. Too bad easy doesn't earn you screams.
Flambae jolted as a digit slide inside him without warning. He was tense at the sudden intrusion, but only for a moment before melting into the feeling of being filled, even if it was only a little. As Robert fingered him, Flambae began to thrust his hips backward in order to take in as much of him as he could and, quickly realising only the one wasn't enough, he added in another that had the man biting his lip.
"You really are a hungry thing," Robert chuckled as his fingers continued to do their work.
"I'm fucking famished," Flambae moaned then gasped as Robert hit that good spot deep inside him.
With the way Robert was pressed to him, not only was Flambae grinding against his hand but his dick slid across Robert's leg as well. The flimsy material wasn't enough to contain him, his dick peaking over the top, red and dripping. It was a sight to behold.
As much as he was enjoying finger fucking the man, he had a much better idea the freaky little arsonist was sure to love. While he did get a small whine of annoyance at pulling out, this was soon replaced by an, "Oh shit" as Robert dropped to his knees. Hooking his fingers into the underwear, he pulled it down in one swift motion, and with Flambae's cock now on full display it was time to get to action.
Curling his fingers around the shaft, he gave it one small experimental stroke, marveling at how hot it was beneath his palm. As his hand began to move at a consistent rhythm, Flambae now muttering something that sounded like curses above him, Robert decided that every part of him needed some love. So, with a mouth ready to serve, he pressed his face closer to swipe his tongue across a large, heavy ball. Hand moving even faster now, he lapped at his sack, covering it in spit. It wasn't along until his balls were nice and wet.
"Fuck, why is your mouth so hot? I'm supposed to be the fire guy," Flambae said, followed by a moan that was downright pitiful at a sharp flick of Robert's wrist.
The man still on his knees only laughed as he moved upwards to now focus on Flambae's engorged head. The thing was dripping like a faucet, just begging to be played with. It was amazing how hard he'd gotten already. Had the chest action and love bites really gotten him so worked up? Maybe he was already hot and bothered before Robert had even showed up. Sex had seemed to be on his mind with how he'd propositioned him back in the bar after he'd barely had time to sit down. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't more than a little worked up himself if the way his underwear was sticking to him was any indication.
As he took Flambae's head into his mouth, his hand worked between his legs to press at his own growing hardness through his boxer briefs. With two fingers he rubbed at his small erection while he tongued his slit, drinking in that wonderfully salty taste. Just a little more and he'd be getting a whole lot more of it.
"Play with my balls again, please," Flambae gasped as his head leaned back. Never one to deny a begging man, soon Robert was nice and busy with both his hands and his mouth working his nuts and his shaft. It really wasn't long at until until he was yelling, "Fuck, I'm coming!"
Releasing into Robert's mouth, the dispatcher did his best to not let a single drop go to waste. When he removed himself from Flambae's dick, the man slide to sit on the floor with the most blissed out face he'd ever seen on him.
"Damn, Robbie, looks like your mouth is useful for more than just talk, huh?" Flambae's breathing was ragged as he spoke with noticeable drops of sweat beading his forehead and chest. He already looked downright exhausted but Robert was far from finished with him. And with the way he was eyeing him, Flambae wasn't quite done either. But there was one thing Robert needed before they went another round.
"Hey, could you just call me Robert? Like you did yesterday? No nicknames like Bob Bob, Bob Bitch, Robbo, Robbie, whatever...just Robert. Please."
Flambae leaned forward, so close that he could feel his breath on his face. "You did seem to get pretty into it when I said your name yesterday. Alright, I think I can do that." His lips curled into a smile as he all but purred, "Robert."
He really hoped Flambae liked the taste of his own cum because the way Robert was on his mouth so fast he didn't have much of a choice. The fire fanatic returned the kiss with full force, tilting his head at the perfect angle that had Robert groaning in his mouth. Soon their hands were exploring each other once more, Robert making a point to give a little extra love to the other man's poor, tortured and still tender nipples. The sounds this earned him were a mix of pain and pure lust and fuck if he didn't need to hear more of it.
Flambae slid his thong off then grabbed at the the band of Robert's underwear and, pulling at it slightly, asked "Is it okay if I take these off? You comfortable with that or do they stay on?"
"Are YOU comfortable with it?" Robert shot back. "Most cis gay men I've come across usually aren't the biggest fans of what I've got going on down there." Hence the reason he'd kept them in during their previous encounter.
"Seriously? I just about ate you out yesterday. Also, I'm not like most cis gay men, Robert," he responded with a frown. The way he so casually used his name mixed with actually sounding downright offended at the idea he wouldn't want to see the other man bare arse naked had Robert wanting to do absolutely terrible things to him.
"No, you're not," Robert responded with a voice a little softer than its usual snarky tone. "Alright, off they go."
He lifted himself slightly to help Flambae take them off. Unused to being so exposed in front of the other, a strange selfconsious air washed over him and for a moment Robert wondered if maybe this had been a mistake. The only other time he'd seen him fully naked was on accident in the shower and that had been much briefer and a hell of a lot less intimate than this. But when he noticed how Flambae seemed to be almost drooling at the sight of him he figured maybe the nudity wasn't entirely a bad thing.
Flambae reached out, two fingers pressing to his folds, watching wide eyed as they easily slid inside up to the first knuckle. "Woah. You're really wet," he said with a voice full of amazement as he stared down at him.
"Yeah, that tends to happen when you suck a guy off and he moans like a bitch," Robert said as he shot him a wink.
"Fuck you," Flambae retorted, but the way he was smiling had Robert guessing he wasn't really all that mad.
When he pulled his hand back, he held it up, examining the wetness left behind on his fingers. He then proceeded to pop them into his mouth and suck, leaving Robert to wonder if it was possible to get even wetter than he already was. After a very intense taste test, Flambae pulled his fingers out, a line of spit connecting them to his lips. "Not bad. I think I could get used to that."
"Interested in getting more of a taste?" Robert asked as he leaned back, legs spread. Flambae seemed to have zero arguments about that as he was on him so fast it was amazing he didn't get whiplash.
It started with soft kisses on his inner thigh that left a burning sensation with even the smallest of touch. Robert had no idea if it was from Flambae's fire powers or he was just that horny that something so minuscule would leave him burning. Probably the later. When Flambae moved upwards to flick his tongue across his micro dick, he knew it was definitely the later.
Robert hooked a leg over Flambae's shoulder to bring him in even closer, the man's nose now buried in curly brown hair as his tongue continued to do what it was made for. He lapped at him like a dog dying of thirst, drinking in every little drop of wetness he could get to. Robert reached down to grab hold of his ponytail, using it like a handle as he slowly began gyrating his hips. Flambae let out a moan that sent vibrations through Robert that made him shudder.
"You're really into that, huh? I wonder what you'd look like sucking on that strap I fucked you with yesterday."
The moan this earned him was so needy it was almost comical. He made a mental note that they had to try that sometime. It was quickly becoming obvious that this was going to be a regular thing. And it wasn't only Robert that needed this but Flambae as well. It could be like therapy for them. Superheroing was stressful and at the end of the day a nice stiff dick was just the thing they both needed to release a little steam.
"Fuck, Chad," Robert gasped at a particularly skilled motion of his tongue. This was followed by a raspy laugh as he added, "Wow. You really were made for this, huh? You know, I wonder what the others would think if they saw the big bad Flambae eating out the guy he's always calling a bitch. Bet they'd love to see who the real bitch is."
The glare he shot him was mitigated a little by the fact his nose was still being ticked by his pubes. A look then gleamed in his eye that worried Robert, but only for a second as Flambae then sucked on him so hard he was sure his soul left his body for a moment. He leaned back with a low groan as his grip on Flambae's hair tightened to the point it had to be painful, all while his hips thrust forward to get more of that wonderful mouth.
As fun as it'd been the way Flambae had gone at him with his underwear on, going bare was a whole new experience. One that would be ending soon as Robert could feel the oncoming crash of his orgasm. "Shit, I'm almost there," came the sharp gasp of a man about to tip over the edge. Then, one final swipe of that tongue in just the right spot and he was gone.
"Fuuuuuuck."
Robert let go of Flambae's hair as he fell back onto the floor, chest heaving as he came down from one hell of a high. The view of his shitty ceiling was soon obstructed by Flambae climbing over him, his moist lips quirked into a devilish smile. "Enjoy yourself?"
"Just a little. Could've been better, though," he casually said as he placed an arm behind his head.
Flambae scoffed, "Yeah, right." He then stood up and, no, Robert did not miss how his dick had come back to life and was half hard as he walked toward the wardrobe. Rummaging around a bit he found the bottle of lube, harness, and, to Robert's surprise, the dildo that wasn't labeled as a national threat.
"You want the realistic one?" Robert asked as he stood and was handed the harness and toy, putting them on quickly with a practiced ease.
"Don't think I can take that beast two nights in a row. Flying is fun but I actually like being able to walk sometimes." He then placed a hand on Robert's shoulder and added, "Now, lie down. I wanna ride you."
"Whatever the horny man wants." Robert left out that he, too, was also a horny man. He was still buzzed from his release and the image of Flambae bouncing on his dick had him so heated up he wouldn't be surprised if he also gained the ability to burst into flames.
Lying down, Flambae popped the cap to pour a generous amount on Robert's shaft before throwing the bottle to the side to position himself above the tip. Not one to waste time, he started easing himself down, taking him in inch by glorious inch. He placed a hand on Robert's chest to secure himself as he took him all in to the base.
"My favourite seat in the house," he laughed before slowly bringing himself back up. Once only the tip was still in him, he slammed back down with such force Robert was at least forty percent sure he'd cracked a hip.
What followed was not an experience Robert would describe as loving or sweet. It was brutal, fast, and above all, intoxicating. Flambae rode him like his life depended on it, mouth hanging open in a mix of gasps and moans as sweat rolled off of his body in a torrent. Always one to help, Robert grabbed his sides before snapping upwards, an action that had Flambae singing the most beautiful music.
"Oh god that's the spot," Flambae whined. "Do that again."
Robert continued to thrust up, Flambae's cock dribbling with every slam into his prostate. It wasn't long until he was grabbing his member, stroking it with such ferocity it had to hurt. Then again, for a masochist like him that was probably a good thing.
"Shit, Robert. Fuck me harder. Yes, just like that. Right there. Fuck!"
His words devolved into a mess of rambling curses, broken up on occasion only by him screaming his name. Every moan, groan, or yell of "Robert!" sent a jolt of pure lust through the man that was impossible to ignore. Was he really about to come for the second time with only his strap? The hell was this man doing to him?
One final choked cry and Flamabe's cum was colouring Robert's chest in beautiful white. He rocked his hips, grinding on him, riding out his orgasm as he moaned a low, "Fuck yes, Robert." That final utterance of his name had him coming so hard he was sure he left a bruise with how he held onto Flambae's hips.
With shaky legs, he slowly lifted himself off of Robert's dick to collapse in an exhausted and spent pile beside him. Without a word he was wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close to rest Robert's head on his large chest. Again with the cuddling. Robert could get used to this.
After a silent minute where the two tried to catch their breath, Robert broke it by asking, "I take it this is going to be a regular thing?"
"Of course," he huffed. "I know after having a taste of all this I have ruined you for other men. Therefore, it would only be cruel if I never let you have a go ever again. Really, I'm doing this as a favour to you."
"You really are too kind, Chad."
"I know."
Robert really should take off the harness and then take a nice, long shower to wash away all the spunk drying on his chest, but when Flambae pulled him in even closer, he figured that could wait. His eyes fluttered closed and sleep took hold of him.
Funny how when you're a child you can launch yourself out of a ten storey building or get tossed around by oncoming traffic and be perfectly fine but the moment you hit thirty even sleeping on the floor can mess with your spine in unspeakable ways.
Robert walked into SDN the next morning, every muscle in his body screaming. He was so not looking forward to sitting at a desk all day. Heat was good for aches and pains, maybe all he needed was to have Flambae wrapped around him again to help ease it all. Then again, that was what had gotten him in this situation in the first place.
Seeing as arriving together would have raised a level of suspicion neither of them wanted to deal with, Flambae had headed out before him so that by the time Robert walked into the breakroom for some much needed coffee, he was already there. While that wasn't a surprise, the small crowd around him of Prism, Punch Up, and Coupé certainly was.
"What the hell happened to ye, lad? Looks like ye lost a fight with a herd of piranha."
"That's a school of piranha, Punch Up," Coupé corrected him, a small smile playing on her lips. "He's not wrong, though. That's quite an impressive collection of teeth marks you have there, Flambae."
Prism playfully bumped her hips against his as she said, "My boy got himself a bit of somethin' somethin' last night. Who was he and does he have an equally kinky straight brother?"
Flambae's face had grown so red Robert was expecting him to burst into flame at any moment. "Yes, alright, I got laid, okay? I got the best dicking I've ever had and it's amazing I can even walk today. Can we move on?"
"Woah, TMI, dude," Sonar said as he walked in with Invisigal at his side.
"Are you fucking serious right now? Where's Golem?" Flambae grumbled. "He's the only one that doesn't know I got fucked within an inch of my life. I know! Let's all go find him! Then let's go tell Blonde Blazer. Then everyone in the whole fucking building will know about my sex life." Flambae was downright fuming. It was pretty adorable.
"Wow, someone's a little on edge. Is that stick he fucked you with still up your ass or what?" Invisigal asked as she leaned against the wall, seemingly enjoying the rage that was filling the room.
When it looked as though Flambae was about to set everything within a five mile radius on fire, Robert decided it was time to step on. "Okay, you've all had your fun, but maybe there's more important things we could all be doing? Like our jobs? So, unless any of you have a reason for being in here, maybe you should be out there doing, you know, the whole job thing?"
"Whatever. I only came in here because I heard something about a dicking," Invisigal said as she turned to leave.
The group shuffled out of the room, mumbling about the dispatcher being no fun (except for Punch Up who asked if anyone knew if Golem ever got that stain out) and soon only Flambae and Robert were left, the arsonist wide-eyed at discovering Robert had been standing there the whole time.
"That good, huh?" Robert asked while wearing the biggest shit eating grin. "I believe I heard something about being fucked within an inch of your life?"
He was expecting to be told off so the laugh was a surprise. "Don't let it get to your head, asshole. I know it was the same for you."
"No arguments there, Chad," he answered with a smile.
The name was strange on his tongue but the way the man's eyes lit up had him knowing he'd he getting used to using it sooner rather than later.