Work Text:
“Are you gonna replace that bottle?”
“What?” The pot of coffee Robert was pouring slipped, a few scalding drops landing on his hand. “Shit!”
Sonar was smiling. Was it a smile? Researching bat body language was added to the to-do list. “The bottle. In the gym.”
Flinching, Robert scanned the breakroom. Prism and Malevola were lounging by the window, chatting over bagels. Punch Up was sitting alone rewrapping his knuckles. None of them were looking at him, thank fuck.
“Do you think they don’t know?”
“How do you know? It’s been what, half an hour?” Careful not to draw the attention of their colleagues, Robert faced the cupboards, pretending to be in deep consideration of which sugar to add to his mug.
There was no mistaking Sonar’s amusement this time as he huffed out a laugh. “Was it supposed to be a secret? You can’t tell me you thought Flambae’s first step wouldn’t be to gloat.”
Another panicked glance around the room. There was no chance in hell these three would occupy the same space as Robert without tearing him a new one if they knew Flambae had fucked him in the gym barely thirty minutes ago.
“He’s only gloated to me so far.” Reaching over Robert’s head, Sonar grabbed a sugar packet and used a fang to slice it open, dumping it into the idle mug. “Worried they’ll find out?”
Robert stirred the coffee. “I don’t take sugar.” He spared Sonar a sideways glance. “Gloated, huh? Means I’m a catch anyway.”
“I love sugar.” Scooping up the mug, Sonar’s nose twitched before he swiped a handful of packets. His white eyes flicked to Punch Up before sliding back to Robert.
Rubbing a hand down his face, Robert sighed, reaching for another mug. “No shit I’m worried they’ll find out. I’d have to quit. Enter witness protection or something - wait. Why’d Flambae keep the two of you a secret?”
With a quiet hum, Sonar shrugged before pulling his arms around himself. “Guess I’m not much of a catch.”
“Don’t say that.” What, he was comforting Sonar now? “You’re…” Handsome? Charming? Not entirely vile to look at? “Well, you went to Harvard. Harvard grad, that’s a catch.”
Nine more sugar packs emptied into the mug. “You think so? That I’m a catch?”
“Uh, yeah. I’d say so.” Robert averted his gaze as Sonar drank, oversweetened coffee dripping down his neck, absorbing into black fur.
Tongue flicking out to lap at the lost beverage, Sonar sniffed at the air. “So you’ll be joining us, then.”
Robert nearly spilled the coffee he was pouring again. “Think I’m that easy?”
“I think…” Sonar inched closer, setting his cup of liquid sugar down. “You and I both know what would happen if they,” a hand gave a small gesture to the occupied seats, “found out what happened this morning.”
Grabbing the edge of the counter with both hands, Robert finally turned to face Sonar. “Are you threatening me?”
With a non-committal shrug, Sonar cocked his head. “Threat’s a harsh word. Encouragement sounds so much better. I’m just giving you an excuse to satisfy your cognitive dissonance. You hate how much you loved it.” With a glance around the room, Sonar lifted his mug celebratorily as he strolled from the breakroom. “See you in the field, team.”
Their colleagues responded with exchanges of confused looks, still keeping their attention off Robert, who was pressing his hips against the counter, planning an escape without them learning of the effect of his conversation with Sonar. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Limping back to his desk, Robert held the mug at an awkward waist height. It had been less than an hour, for fuck’s sake.
“Thought you were gonna be a no-show.” Chase spun around in his chair, immediately staring at the crotch-covering cup of coffee. “The fuck is that, Robert? Take care of that shit at home. You know, before you’re supposed to be a goddamn professional.”
Robert sat - quickly - before scooting his legs under his desk. “I thought I did.” Slapping on his headphones, he waved Chase away. “Fuck off. Fuck you.”
There was probably a biting retort, but the log in chime of Robert’s computer drowned out any words Chase said.
The button to transmit to all of Z-Team was clicked and Robert hesitated. “Good morning. Let’s have -”
“Do you work out, Robbo?” Sonar’s even tone interrupted the greeting.
Fuck.
“I do.” Please, no follow ups. “Anyway, we’ve got -”
“Saw you leaving the locker room this morning, Bob Bob. What did you hit?” Flambae needed to make Robert squirm too apparently.
“Full body. Why?” Robert was pushing his luck. “Like what you see? I can drop you my routine.”
“What? Ew.” Invisigal reminded Robert that the entire team was present. “No one wants to look like you. No one wants to look at you.”
The rest of the team jumped at the chance to express how Robert repulsed they were. For once, Robert couldn’t be more relieved that his physical appearance was being annihilated. It meant no one was talking about the gym, or empty bottles of lube, or the raging fucking hard on under his desk.
The shift was as uneventful as it could be, all things considered. Sonar’s thinly veiled sexual harassment was par for the course and Flambae’s gym jokes fell flat enough that they were ignored.
The convenient distraction of working was put on hold with the usual lunch break. He really should have brought food with him to his desk. If he could somehow avoid seeing any of the team for the rest of his life, that’d be great.
Reluctantly, Robert pushed himself away from his computer. The past four hours of wrangling his colleagues had taken care of one of his problems. But there was still the problem of avoiding Flambae - and now Sonar.
Robert was not surprised when he was ambushed only halfway to the breakroom by Flambae. “Hungry again?”
“No, none of that main course, appetizer shit here.” Robert gave Flambae a firm shove, holding him back with a forearm. “But yes, I’m going to eat lunch.” When Flambae grinned, Robert continued, in an urgent, hushed voice. “And no, lunch is not your cock or your cum or whatever else you’re about to suggest I swallow.”
“Not a suggestion. You’ll swallow whatever I tell you to swallow.” Flambae grabbed Robert’s arm and pinned it to the wall Robert had backed into. “Batboner said you were in.”
Flambae may as well have set Robert on fire the way he was heating up. “That’s not - I did not say I was in. Let go.” Twisting his arm in Flambae’s grip, it was released, and Robert rubbed at the irritated skin.
“Okay, not in. Though you’ll need a cover story if you plan on walking into the breakroom looking like that. Microwaved burritos get you flustered?”
“Fuuuuck.” Maybe he just needed to get this out of his system. One more time. “We have to be quick though. I am hungry.”
The hand was back on Robert’s arm, steering him to the gym. “I’ll order you takeaway if you’re a good boy.”
Robert’s body spasmed with a shiver and the back of his hand slapped against his mouth to stop a noise from escaping. “Such a gentleman,” he wheezed out.
“Sonar might not agree. I’ve left him in the gym for over twenty minutes now.” The hand on Robert’s arm shifted to the back of his neck.
Speeding up the pace they were walking, Robert needed to be in the gym now - both because he was impossibly hot and the team would need exactly one guess to pin exactly what was happening if they saw the two of them.
The door to the gym swung open and there was a shuffling sound that ended with a small grunt. Around the corner of the familiar yoga racks, Sonar was kneeling on a mat, tent in his dress pants straining. “Took you guys long enough. Thought I might have to take -”
“Shut up.” Flambae’s commanding voice snapped Sonar’s jaw shut, but didn’t stop his eyes narrowing at the pair, one of his ears flicking. “It’ll be worth the wait. I brought you a gift. Be thankful.” He gestured to Robert, who very clearly did not know what to do with himself.
“Thank you, sir,” was Sonar’s sarcastic response, though his hands moved to rest on his thighs and he adjusted so he was kneeling just a little taller.
Sonar rarely followed orders in the field, but here he was, on the floor and at attention for Flambae. “I thought you were kidding.” He did. “Or at least exaggerating.”
“Go kneel next to him, bitch.” Flambae nudged Robert, stumbling not from the shove, but from the jolt of electricity the command shot through him.
Wordlessly, Robert lowered himself onto the mat after Sonar shifted a few inches to make room. He had to remind himself to breathe as Flambae paced in front of them.
“This is exciting.” Flambae clenched his hands as they shook. “I get to be the dispatcher now, huh? I’m like a director - I tell you what to do and I get to watch it happen. I’ve always wanted to make a movie, you know - or well, I wanted to star in a movie, but this is even better - whatever. Point is, you’re both mine.”
Sonar and Robert shared a quick glance as Robert thanked every higher power he could think of that this wasn’t being filmed.
“I gave you a gift, didn’t I?” Flambae scratched the top of Sonar’s head, between his ears. “Unwrap it.”
Trembling hands were on Robert before he processed the order, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Robert moved to help, but his hand was slapped away by Flambae who tsked at him.
Slowly, the buttons came loose, but the more Robert that was exposed, the less fine motor function Sonar’s fingers had. After a few minutes - an eternity for Robert - he was freed from his shirt.
“And the rest.” Flambae was palming himself through his suit as he circled the mat. A hand was on Robert’s bare chest, pushing him down. “Help him.”
Leaning back, Robert waited for Sonar’s painstaking effort in undoing his belt. It finally clinked open and Robert kicked at his pants as Sonar tugged at them. Pale eyes glanced up at Flambae, earning him a nod and a smile. The unsteady hands caught the elastic of Robert’s briefs, yanking them down easily as Robert gasped.
The urge to cover himself was overwhelming as Sonar’s unreadable eyes explored his body. It was never entirely clear what part of him Sonar was currently staring at.
“Kiss.”
Sonar didn’t need to be told twice apparently - nearly tackling Robert in his zeal. This was something Robert hadn’t considered - kissing Sonar raised interesting questions. A few were answered as Sonar opened his maw, clamping it around Robert’s mouth, practically gnawing at his face. Every so often, Sonar’s ice cold nose would rub at Robert’s cheek.
Another question was answered as a long tongue slipped into Robert’s mouth, snaking its way over his own tongue before slithering to the back of his throat. Gagging, Robert recoiled, breaking away and spitting the tongue out.
“Fuck, you could have warned me about that.” Robert wiped at Sonar’s saliva coating his face, coughing to try to erase the feeling of the appendage exploring his larynx.
“Who said you could speak, bitch?” Flambae towered over them as Sonar sat back, waiting.
“Who said that I couldn’t speak?” Planting a foot under himself, Robert moved to stand before Flambae caught his shoulder, pressing him back down to his knees.
“Oh, you want to play fucking stupid, Robert? Like you don’t know how this works? Need a handbook? An instruction manual?” Flambae crouched in front of Robert, waves of heat radiating off him as he grabbed Robert’s jaw. “I asked you a question. You going to play stupid?”
“No.” Robert tried pulling away from Flambae’s grip, but it only tightened.
“No? No, what?” A grin spread across Flambae’s face that made Robert’s stomach do a backflip. Sonar was shifting next to him, rutting himself against his hand. “It would be pretty stupid of you not to say what I want to hear.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
Robert’s face was pulled closer to Flambae. “Fine, talk all you want. Sonar’ll give you something to scream about.”
Released from Flambae’s grasp, Robert fell back on the mat. Every word Flambae said made him shudder.
“Still got those cuffs Coop embarrassed you in?” Flambae had turned to Sonar, who stood to dig out the silver metal from behind a pile of yoga blocks. “Put ‘em on your bitch. Behind his back.”
The sight of the handcuffs made Robert’s legs tremble. “What, scared I’m gonna fight back?” He gave Sonar a weak shove, stretching his arms out to keep his distance.
“Not really. Just thought they’d look hot on you. There’s nothing you have that we can’t take.” Flambae smiled again, admiring Robert’s half-hearted attempt at overpowering Sonar.
It would be pathetic if he didn’t at least pretend the thought of being restrained didn’t make his cock leak. Sonar snatched Robert’s right wrist, the other hand grabbing his shoulder, trying to hold the arm at the small of his back. Kicking out, Robert’s leg struck a knee and Sonar shrieked before coiling his arm around Robert’s neck, yanking him into a chokehold. The newfound leverage allowed Sonar to snap the cuff onto Robert’s right hand before pressing his clothed dick into Robert’s back.
“Fuck off, pervert.” His left arm swung behind him, hoping to shake Sonar loose, but it was caught instead and swiftly secured. “Fuck you.” Robert panted out, stepping away from Sonar and tugging at the cuffs. He was out of breath and hopefully the others would assume it was from the effort of the fight.
“I was right.” Flambae’s voice was low. He let out a breath of appreciation as he raised a finger to his earpiece. “Maybe we should invite the rest of the team - we finally found something that highlights your best features.”
“No!” Robert took a step forward and he would have reached out to stop Flambae were his hands not bound. “Please, don’t.”
“Please, what?” It was that same smile as Flambae raised an eyebrow, tapping the finger against his radio.
He would have to kick Flambae’s ass for this later. “Please, sir.” The word was spat out, but it seemed satisfactory as the hand lowered.
“Good boy.” Flambae pulled his suit down just far enough to free his cock, stroking it slowly as he circled Robert. “But you still owe me that scream.” He gave a nod to Sonar, who was still desperately pawing at his own erection through his pants.
Grabbing at the cuffs, Sonar effortlessly tugged Robert to the floor, whose arms were now painfully pinned between his back and the mat. Sonar pushed at Robert’s thighs, spreading them, before lowering his face towards Robert’s cock.
Sonar’s maw opened, clamping down around Robert with ease, careful his fangs avoid the sensitive flesh. The initial panic of Sonar biting him evaporated with the jolt of pleasure as the lithe tongue curled its way around Robert.
“Fuck…” Straining against the cuffs, Robert shamelessly raised his hips, trying to shove himself impossibly deeper into Sonar’s mouth. The tongue stroked him a few times before focusing its attention on his head, coiling and uncoiling.
A low, steady vibration assaulted Robert’s cock, the tongue drawing out a whine. It was a new sensation and the metal bit into Robert’s wrists as he desperately sought more. His legs spasmed and Sonar’s hands were on his thighs, holding them open.
The slow vibration became more and more intense, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. Throwing his head back, Robert made a choked coughing sound. The attack was unrelenting, the novel sensation quickly growing overwhelming.
Robert attempted to pull his cock from Sonar’s mouth, but it was held fast, as though his mouth was barbed. “Sonar - please. The fuck are you doing?” The pleading started after Robert tried unsuccessfully pushing Sonar away, again forgetting his hands were bound.
The tongue drilled against his slit and Robert thrashed, an embarrassing yelp pulled from his throat. Almost all pleasure was being drowned out by the oppressive sensation. “Please!” He called out, a little louder than he had intended.
“You want him to stop?” Flambae’s voice was barely audible over the blood rushing in Robert’s ears. “Use your big boy words.”
Yes. Right? He was supposed to say ‘yes’ here. But instead, his hips jerked up and he sobbed out a pathetic “don’t stop.”
And the vibrations ceased. Jaw snapping open with a satisfied smack, Sonar released Robert, white eyes staring intently.
“Fuck.” Robert repeated, leaning forward as much as his restraints allowed to assess for damage. No blood. “The fuck was that?”
“Sonar, idiot.” Flambae answered for their colleague, raking his own eyes up and down Robert’s tense body. “Never fucking thought about what his name meant?”
“Never thought about it too hard.” Panting, Robert made a valiant effort at regaining his composure. He tactfully avoided Sonar’s gaze as the long tongue darted out to lick up a few droplets of saliva dripping down the fur.
A scoff was Flambae’s response. “We’re both quite aware that thinking hard is not your forte. Lucky for us…” He trailed off with a breathy sound as Robert managed to pull himself back onto his knees. “Shit… We don’t need you to do any thinking. Sonar’s about to fuck what’s left of your brains into the ground.”
The chain holding Robert’s hands together clinked as he tensed, heat pooling in his stomach. Sonar was shakily unbuttoning his own shirt, his excitement making the task just as difficult as it was to strip Robert.
Another jingle of the chain. Robert unconsciously tried reaching out, tried helping Sonar undress, tried reducing the amount of time he had to wait for his brains to be fucked out. The shirt was finally open and Sonar tugged his tie over his head before letting the shirt slide off his arms.
Robert should feel ashamed as another rattling of his cuffs betrayed his urge to touch Sonar. Black fur covered most of his torso, tapering at his flanks and stopping in a stunning “V,” the end hidden beneath his pants. His arms were also covered, the fur fading into coarse hair at his forearms.
Prowling behind Robert, Flambae laughed the same laugh that always made Robert’s dick strain. This time was no different. “That answer your question? Where the fur ends?” The words were hummed into Robert’s ear.
The only reply he could muster was a mute nod and a shaky exhale. The belt was unbuckled and Sonar’s dress pants slipped off him, quickly followed by his briefs. The beautiful treasure trail of thick fur led to his erect and leaking cock. He was thinner than Flambae, but made up for the lack of girth in length tenfold.
“Is it all you hoped and dreamed it would be?” Sonar’s voice was uneven as he stroked himself.
Robert rolled his eyes but they immediately landed back on Sonar’s hand. “Oh, yeah.” He called out dramatically before Flambae grabbed his shoulders and pressed his chest into the ground. The cuffs made the position awkward as Sonar pulled his knees out from under him. Robert’s face pressed against the not-so-forgiving surface of the mat as his ass was shamelessly presented to Sonar. “Ow.” He muttered as he spread his knees, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Something wet and warm slipped easily past his entrance and Robert’s knees nearly buckled. It slithered a few inches into him before quickly retreating, the loss of friction drawing a groan out from Robert. Unconsciously, he arched his back, seeking contact.
There was another groan from Flambae as he crouched in front of Robert, holding his jaw again, the other hand supporting his shoulder. With a small sigh, Robert leaned into him, grateful for relieving some of the strain.
“You used all my lube.” Sonar said matter-of-factly as something pressed against Robert, much thicker than the tongue. Then, without fanfare, Sonar breached Robert, grabbing his hips as he eased in.
The path was made smoother by the remnants of lube and Flambae’s cum from this morning, but the lack of preparation still burned. Sputtering, Robert squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, the sting of the metal around them dulling the pain in his ass.
“That won’t do. Stop, Sonar.” The grip on Robert’s jaw brought a fresh pain as the cock burrowing inside him halted with a small frustrated grunt from Sonar. “Look at me. Look at me while you’re getting fucked.”
Robert shuddered and slowly blinked his eyes open, raising them to stare up at Flambae. The hold on his face slackened and Flambae gave his cheek a small pat. Flambae’s chest was heaving as he stared down, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
A quick nod resumed Sonar’s efforts. There was less resistance after the small reprieve. Robert felt tears prick his eyes nonetheless as he kept them trained on Flambae, squinting at just how deep Sonar settled. He swallowed repeatedly, keeping the pained noises to himself.
Again, Sonar offered no warning before he pulled back, nearly slipping out of Robert, before thrusting violently. Robert yelped and the hand on his face reminded him to keep his eyes open. Had he closed them?
A tear fell down Robert’s cheek as Sonar set a relentless pace, hammering into Robert and clawing at his hips. Leaning forward, Flambae licked the tear away and brushed his face gently with a thumb. “Good boy,” he whispered quietly - just for Robert to hear. “Eyes on me. You’re doing good.”
A pathetic sound escaped Robert, a high pitched moan from the back of his throat. His arm moved to cover his mouth, to stop any other embarrassing noises, but it merely twitched in its restraints.
Somehow, Sonar managed to increase the speed of his ramming. There was an ear-piercing screech that accompanied one particularly harsh thrust and Robert flinched, turning his head to look at Sonar.
“No, no, ignore him.” Flambae’s soft voice dragged Robert’s attention away from the shrieking bat above him. “Good.” Robert nearly came as the approval was breathed out.
The pain of the stretch had long since subsided and Robert caught himself pressing into Sonar, making each thrust impossibly deeper. “Greedy.” Sonar panted out as Robert blindly pushed into him.
Speaking of greed, the words “please touch me” tumbled from Robert’s mouth as his wet eyes focused on Flambae. A small pool of pre-cum was shiny on the mat under Robert as his cock ached.
“Oh, Robert.” Flambae ran a hand through Robert’s hair, the other still holding him up. “I do see you have a small problem. Show me the respect I deserve and I just might be able to help you.”
Trembling, Robert’s hands were tugging at his cuffs, trying to free himself to give himself some much needed relief. “Please, sir. I need you to touch me.” A choked sound interrupted him before he added one more “sir” for good measure.
The hand in Robert’s hair vanished as Flambae stroked himself, moaning gratuitously watching Robert getting railed by Sonar, begging to cum. “Look at you…” He muttered, more to himself than anyone else in the room. “I need a little more convincing. Show me how much of a groveling bitch you can be.”
Robert cried out as his dick twitched again. “Please, Flambae. Please. I need it. I need you. I’m a bitch. Such a bitch.” Incoherent, bitch-related mumblings continued as heat flushed Robert’s face. He had never been so quick to abandon his dignity. “I’m your bitch.”
Oh hoh, he knew that would make Flambae crumble and he was right. A familiar hand wrapped around Robert, warm and so, so perfect. He thrust into it without thinking, not like he had been doing much thinking lately anyway.
Another loud squeal from Sonar and the drilling of Robert’s ass stuttered, the hand around Robert’s tightening. There was an attempt at words, but all that Robert could produce was slurred moans between labored breaths.
“Look at me.” Oh, fuck. Robert’s body seized as he stared up at Flambae, who was nodding slowly and biting at his own lower lip. With another shudder, Robert felt a release like no other, his vision going white as he opened his mouth. No noise made it past his tensed throat and he heard his own cum splash onto the mat.
A final shriek echoed as Sonar impaled Robert once more, desperately pushing into him. The feeling of wet heat emptying into Robert was barely registered as he tried to stay conscious through his own orgasm.
The hand left his cock as he panted, trying to blink away the darkness at the edge of his vision. Flambae gave a guttural yell, the only warning Robert got before ropes of unnaturally hot cum striped across his face. He should care. He should gag. Instead, his tongue instinctively flicked out to clear the salty liquid from around his mouth.
“Holy…” Sonar pulled out and the cool air now penetrating Robert made him shudder again. Flambae eased Robert to the ground so he was laying uncomfortably on one of his bound arms.
“Got the key?” Robert’s voice was hoarse as he pulled at his wrists, trying to alleviate some of the strain.
Tucking himself back into his suit, Flambae stood. “Fuck, Robert.” Robert knew exactly how he looked. Naked, bound, cum covering his face and leaking out of his ass. “Feel like I need to take a picture. This is something you don’t want to forget, you know?”
“Please.” Robert cringed at his begging. “Don’t. This is humiliating enough as is.”
“Fucking boring.” Flambae gestured dismissively to Robert, as if the past half hour hadn’t just happened. “Uncuff this bitch.”
Sonar had already slid his pants back on before spinning the key on a finger, holding it in front of Robert for a few moments before moving behind him. The clicking sound of the cuffs releasing brought instant relief.
Rubbing at his wrists, Robert inspected them. There was clear bruising and a thin, red line of irritation. He’d have to remember to keep his sleeves rolled down. As he adjusted, a small stream of Sonar’s cum trickled out of him.
“You’re like a twink.” Sonar pointed at his ass.
“What?” Robert started. “No, they’re called -”
Flambae’s laugh interrupted him. “No, Robert. I hate to admit it, but that freak isn’t wrong.”
“Fuck off.” Limping to the showers, Robert glared at Flambae. “What time is it?”
“Twelve minutes ‘til report time.” Flambae was leaning against the tiles, watching Robert splash water over his face.
Robert went slack, letting his head loll. “I said quick, remember? Fuck, I’m hungry.” He groaned in annoyance as the soap he was using to scrub his face gathered in the corner of his eye.
“Calm down. I’ll make sure the first call you get is from that one bakery you couldn’t stop talking about yesterday.”
When Robert whirled around, Flambae was looking down, avoiding eye contact. “You remembered? Didn’t think you listened to anything I say.”
Offering a small shrug and a small hum, Flambae’s leg kicked out idly. “Well, when you talk so damn much, people around you are bound to remember something. Not that deep.”
“I don’t remember a bakery.” Sonar’s voice made Robert jump. “Just saying.” Slipping on his tie, he kept it hanging loosely around his neck as he left the gym, quietly singing a song to himself.
Robert turned the water off and Flambae tossed him a towel. “What, like watching me shower?”
“You just came so hard you almost knocked yourself out. I’m just making sure you get back to your desk in one piece.” Flambae gave another dismissive gesture, waving Robert’s implications away.
“Mm-hm.” Bending to pick up his clothes, Robert shook them out, hoping the wrinkles weren’t too obvious. “That’s why you’re getting me lunch, too, huh? So I don’t pass out?”
“No, stupid. I’m getting you lunch because that’s the deal we made. Sonar really did fuck your brains out.” Despite his protests, Flambae’s eyes were locked on Robert’s hands as they methodically buttoned his shirt.
Running his hands over his shirt, Robert unsuccessfully tried making himself just a tiny bit more presentable. “Maybe next time, we could get food together after. You know, so I don’t just feel like the office slut.”
“Pff, bad news for you. Your track record is right here. Says you already are the office slut.” Flambae pointed at the cum stained mat.
Robert paused and pretended to stare at the mat forlornly. “Guess so.”
Flambae huffed with a laugh. “No surprise, really. If anyone was going to take up that mantle, it’d be someone…” He gestured vaguely at Robert with a smirk.
“Oh?” Robert challenged. “Someone as handsome and stunning and intelligent and articulate and -”
“Shut the fuck up.” The words lacked any hostility as he gently pushed Robert out the door, glancing at the clock.
“Make me.”
Flambae let out a shaky breath as he deposited Robert at his desk, lowering his voice as he leaned over his dispatcher. “Oh, and he claims ‘not the office slut.’ I will make you shut the fuck up. Next time.” Straightening, Flambae slapped a hand on the back of Robert’s chair. “But for now I’ll get you your stupid fucking croissant sandwich.”
“Thanks, honey.” Robert called out after catching his breath, pulling his headset on as Chase stared at him from the top of the divider.
Flipping Robert off from behind his back, Flambae didn’t bother to turn around as he responded with his favorite word of the day.
“Bitch.”