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What's straighter than having regular movie nights featuring soda and shitty pizza with your hot male coworker who you have way too much sexual tension with?
Don't answer that.
See, the thing was, Robert and Flambae argued often after Robert revealed that he was Mecha Man and Flambae nearly burnt him to a crisp if not for Golem and Waterboy. Flambae still showed up for work, but things were incredibly tense between him and the dispatcher, so the rest of the team staged a fucking intervention and the result was Malevola locking them in a room together to “talk things out.”
They did not talk things out, they got into a fistfight, which only made the sexual tension between them worse because they'd both managed to pin each other to either the floor or the wall several times. If Malevola had left them in there any longer, Robert wasn't sure whether they would have killed each other or ended up fucking, but either way, it still wouldn't have ended well. Robert wasn't a fan of Hate Fucking, personally.
So, after that plan failed, Prism cashed in a favor Flambae owed to her and the rest of the team got Blonde Blazer to convince Robert to go along with their next plan(to be fair, he hadn't started that fist fight with Flambae, but he had finished it happily–the guy's face was just so punchable, especially with his eyebrows still growing back in). Plan B was to get Robert and Flambae to hang out casually. It seemed kind of silly, but Flambae prided himself on always keeping his word and he'd told Prism she could ask him for anything within reason, so he had to do what she asked.
And that was how their first Movie Night happened. Robert wasn't ashamed to admit that he owned no furniture aside from the plastic chair he slept in(Flambae had looked absolutely disgusted at that) and the pillow Beef slept on and he also didn't own a TV or anything to play movies on, so they couldn't do the Movie Night at his place. Flambae firmly refused to go to the theatre, stating that he hated the theatre because people were fucking rude and annoying and it ruined the moviegoing experience.
So then they ended up watching a movie at Flambae's place–which, as Robert found out, was really nice. This bastard lived in a fucking penthouse that was somehow both modern and cozy. The surfaces and appliances were all sleek, but the decor was the opposite of the minimalistic approach people usually took for modern style architecture. No, Flambae had drawings from his nieces and nephews on his fridge, along with a few magnets from various vacation spots and tourist traps, and he had warm toned accent decor–throw pillows and throw blankets. The couch, loveseat and armchairs are all brown and he had one of those sleek fireplaces that had glossy pebbles in the bottom and a gas pipe that ran under it. A large flatscreen TV was mounted on the protruding part of the wall that the fireplace was in. The rest of the living room–aside from where the fireplace was–had floor to ceiling windows, giving a view of the city skyline.
The penthouse was actually a loft, and the first floor was open concept. There was no wall between the living room, the kitchen, or the dining area. There was a hallway that led from the kitchen and dining area to a full bath, a linens closet, and a guest bedroom. Up the stairs on the far side of the living room led to the loft area, which was the master bedroom, ensuite master bathroom, and a walk-in closet.
And Robert knew all of this because Flambae bragged about it when he got there.
Oh yeah, and the floor on the first level was marble.
Fucking. Marble.
Robert did what he was best at and pretended he wasn't impressed whatsoever. Having a place this nice was at least part of the reason Flambae had such a big fucking ego, Robert was not about to add to it. Instead, he’d removed his shoes(like the little bench with a couple pairs of shoes at it indicated he should do) and Flambae already had the shitty pizza, fresh and still steaming (either that or he'd reheated it himself). Then he'd hung his hoodie up on one of the hooks above the bench.
“Wow, you do own clothes that aren't that fugly SDN uniform.” Flambae noticed.
“You know, I was gonna say the same thing about your slutty hero suit.” Robert shot back. The fire user was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but the shirt fit tight on his broad shoulders and chest.
Robert remembered the days when he had hoped for a broader frame like his father's, but he ended up looking more like his mother, and he had a similar build to hers too.
They sat down to get the movie started. In truth, Robert barely remembered the plot of the first movie they watched because he'd spent the entire time trying to gauge whether or not Flambae was actually enjoying it or just pretending to be chill while he secretly planned to toss Robert out his fancy windows. But, by the end, Flambae, to Robert’s surprise, admitted that he found Robert less insufferable outside of work and said they should do the Movie Night again.
And that was how this tradition started. Over the next few Movie Nights, Robert learned how to relax in the open space even if the size of it made him feel like an ant just sitting in the massive living room, and they got to know each other. The fire user was still an insufferable asshole, but that kind of went from annoying Robert to being charming, in a way. Flambae did have the skills to back up his bragging (unfortunately), and he was hot as fuck, and he had a nice voice when he wasn’t being such a shithead.
This was their seventh movie night, and they had decided to watch Fifty Shades of Grey because Prism wanted to hear what they thought of it. Robert had no doubt that she was setting them up for some absolutely painful dialogue and terrible plotlines, but he couldn't say for sure. He had over a decade of Pop Culture to catch up on after his stint as Mecha Man. He'd been too busy and he didn't have any friends to hang out with before, during, or after he was Mecha Man anyway, so. After learning about that, Flambae had doubled down on making the Movie Nights a Thing, while also insulting Robert’s social skills and pathetic social life at the same time because emotional vulnerability was not a thing for the ex-villain.
“I heard about these movies when they came out–middle aged white women loved them.” Flambae recalled when he started the movie.
“That's bad news if I've ever heard any.” Robert remarked dryly.
“If middle aged white women are in a frenzy, you know the movie is going to be the worst shit you’ve ever seen.” The fire user agreed. Robert sat on his side of the couch with the fluffy red throw blanket he'd grown fond of and Flambae sat on the other side, a cushion’s worth of space in between them, the pizza on the coffee table in front of them, and their drinks on the side tables next to them.
This set-up had become familiar, which was comforting to Robert. He liked consistency, it helped him feel less like his life was always falling apart. Even with the minimal amount of things he owned, he kept them all in the same places, in the same positions. On his desk at work, everything was organized in a specific way.
It was nice, to have quiet, normal moments in life. It was nice to watch the sun set on the city skyline and watch all the lights come on as it got darker through the floor to ceiling windows, knowing that they'd spent the week saving this city and they'd done a damn good job of it. Something about being so high up, removed from it all but still able to watch the life going by down below, was therapeutic to Robert. He wondered if that was why Flambae liked it too–aside from having rooftop access and thus being able to just get dressed for work and fly there.
“He just told her verbatim that his hobby is fucking.” Robert deadpanned. They were barely five minutes into the movie, for fuck’s sake.
“You should send Prism on the worst calls next week.” Flambae suggested helpfully. “If a sewage pipe bursts for some mysterious reason, just toss her right in there.”
Robert looked at him. Flambae himself was much more vibrant and lively than the dreary movie on the screen–he always wore warm-toned clothes and no matter how plain the clothes were, he still looked good. Unfair really–Robert looked washed out and pathetic in most things he wore, but maybe that was just the litany of emotional and mental issues he had. The Z-team liked to say that the dispatcher had a general aura of depression and crippling loneliness, so maybe that was part of it too. Robert always thought he was doing fine at coping with life, but apparently reformed villains could sniff it out easily. Just his damn luck.
“As long as the sewage pipe doesn't have any scorch marks on it, I'll consider it.” Robert said pointedly. Flambae looked back at him with a grin.
“Oh I wouldn't go near sewage if I didn't have to. You don't have to worry about lil old me, Bob Bob.”
The dispatcher rolled his eyes and refocused on the movie. The actors had no chemistry whatsoever and the main female lead seemed more and more like a victim the longer they watched it, especially with the male lead being 27 and rich and holding all the experience in their dynamic and her only being 22 and a college student.
“This should've been a horror movie.” Robert commented. “He showed up at her work like a creep after meeting her for five minutes and being weird, he feeds her and buckles her into her seat like she's a child, and then he gets excited when she tells him she's a virgin and immediately defiles her.”
Flambae snorted. “Just switch out the music and you've got a great psychological horror right there. Don’t even need to add a filter over it, it’s already there.”
And then came the Morning After scene.
That scene changed Robert’s life, which was embarrassing to say the least because this movie did not deserve that much credit. If anything, Robert letting his own filter down a little outside of work deserved the credit. But, it was that scene that had him saying what he did, so he digressed.
The female lead was making her problematic situationship breakfast after losing her virginity and Robert raised a brow. “Damn,” He commented, shaking his head. “That dick would have to be life changing for me to cook you breakfast after the first night together.”
Flambae gave him a considering glance. “Can you even cook?”
“Listen, I know I look homeless and pathetic now, but I only had myself to rely on when I was Mecha Man and I couldn't exactly afford to starve.” Robert scoffed. “Yes, I can cook.” He went back to watching the painfully bad movie, but Flambae didn't seem to do the same.
The hero kept his full attention on Robert, a pensive expression on his face, his vermillion eyes narrowed. His gaze was burning, searching. Robert tried not to let the man know he noticed but it was pretty obvious. Out of his control, Robert's ears went red at the scrutiny. It didn't feel judgemental, but he wasn’t sure what it was, at least not at first.
Finally, he looked at the man sitting one cushion away from him, holding his gaze. Robert raised a challenging brow when Flambae didn't even look away, watching him with an expression Robert had only caught him with a handful of times–wanting and sultry, an expression that always fried the dispatcher’s brain when he let himself think about it. The amount of times he'd hoped the ex-villain would pull him into a supply closet at work, or a conference room, or even the break room if he was desperate enough was embarrassing, as was the amount of nights in his shitty apartment shower when he’d jacked off to this bastard.
At some point, the simmering hatred the fire user felt towards him had shifted. Neither of them had said a word about it, just like they hadn't said a word about these Movie Nights, simply having an unspoken agreement to keep doing them. Everything between them was heavy but silent, a weight pulling down on the middle of a string that was tied to each of them, drawing them together over and over again. Their gazes clashed over cubicle dividers and the break room table and across this couch, but neither made any moves. Robert had been wondering if Flambae was plagued with the same thoughts, wondering if this was all in his head, but this right here was all the proof he needed.
For just a second, Flambae's eyes flicked down to Robert's lips and then back up to his eyes, obvious when he knew the dispatcher was watching. No fucking way. Robert's heart beat faster and he tried not to let his face flush even more, or show how interested he was. Was Flambae actually going to–?
Lips found Robert's so quickly, he almost didn't register it. All he could do was kiss back when he did, wrapping his arms around Flambae's neck. The man was on top of him, straddling his lap with the blanket and the clothes between them doing nothing to hide how hard the fire user already was. How long had he been thinking of doing this?
Hips rolled against Robert's and he gave a groan, burying his hands in Flambae's hair and pulling the hairtie out. Long, dark hair spilled over the man's shoulders. He’d wanted to do this since the first time he'd imagined what kissing Flambae would be like. Robert grasped at that long hair, pulling as he tilted his head to slot their mouths together better, relishing the feeling of the silky strands around his fingers. The fire user hadn't put any product in his hair today–he never did unless he was going to work. His natural hair was so silky and soft and long, Robert could run his fingers through it forever.
Flambae let loose his own moan at the minor pull in his scalp, tracing the seam of Robert's lips with his tongue to get him to open up. The dispatcher complied, opening his mouth to let his tongue meet the fire user's. Flambae twisted their tongues together, hot and all encompassing, just like Robert had expected him to be. He was so warm on top of the smaller man, Robert would have purred like a damn cat if he had the ability. Others may have gotten overheated around Flambae, but Robert had to constantly keep himself from gravitating towards the man anytime they were in a room together, chronically cold as he was.
Flambae's hands found the hem of his shirt and pushed up under it as the bigger man pulled away and kissed along his jaw. He sucked a mark into the spot under Robert’s right ear and the dispatcher gasped, not expecting how sensitive that spot would be.
The fire user trailed burning kisses down his neck and Robert slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the sounds that rose in his throat. He didn't know he'd be this sensitive, but he supposed it made sense when his association with touch was more negative than positive.
Flambae pulled his hand away from his mouth, intertwining their fingers and pinning their hands to the arm of the couch over Robert's head–he hadn't even realized he'd slid down until then. He was fully under Flambae, his head cushioned on a throw pillow and the blanket tangled around his legs and trapped under the fire user in his lap. Flambae's weight on top of him was heady and sent bolts of arousal through the dispatcher.
Flambae pulled away from where he was mouthing at a spot on the smaller man's neck. “Don't, there is no one here but us.” He insisted heatedly, capturing Robert's lips again and pulling another moan from him when he rolled his hips, grinding them together. They were both fully hard now.
“But it'll–ah! It'll echo….” Robert pointed out, interrupting himself with a moan when the fire user rolled his hips again. Then he pulled away from the kiss to lick along the shell of his ear, tracing the crescent left after the Mecha Man suit shot off a piece of it when he was just a kid. “Fuck, Eli!”
Flambae pulled back, staring at Robert wide-eyed, while the dispatcher's face turned a gorgeous shade of red. “Say that again.” The hero demanded.
“Uh uh.” Robert denied immediately, cheeks burning.
A smirk crept over Flambae's face. “Then I'll just have to make you.” He decided.
“What are you–ungh!” Robert didn't even get to finish his sentence before Flambae was attacking his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin to make marks. While he did that, his hands shoved up under the dispatcher's shirt, warm and calloused, dragging along his skin and over the scars marring his body. “T-That’s not fair….” Robert tried weakly. The warmth Flambae put off felt so good against the ever-present ache from all the scar tissue layered across his torso.
He shuddered, his body going lax as Flambae painted reds and purples across his neck like a canvas. The fire user pulled back to make sure he was okay after he suddenly went boneless but stopped before he asked, captivated by the expression Robert had–his eyes were half-lidded and dazed as he looked up at the bigger man with a combination of surprise and appreciation that Flambae had never had directed at him before. The smaller man was looking up at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky, something brand new that he'd never seen from the dispatcher even after they'd started spending time together outside of work.
Robert made the next move this time, tangling his hands in the hero's hair and pulling him down for a kiss. He groaned when Flambae's chest pressed him into the couch, the warmth encompassing him. He was so used to being cold and alone and just dealing with it, he didn't know how much he needed, craved the warmth and contact until now. More than that, it was Flambae, who he'd started pining for at some point that he couldn't really pinpoint. The man was sexy, that much was obvious, but sometime between telling the team he was Mecha Man and now, Robert and Flambae had started circling each other, dancing around this growing thing between them the more they got to actually know each other.
They separated, panting. “Ungh, warm, you're so fucking–” Robert cut himself off, kissing the man again, almost frantically. Flambae didn't have a problem keeping up with it, pulling at the blanket between them and shoving it away, working on getting their pants off as Robert kissed him until neither of them could breathe and then going back in for more after sucking in barely half a breath. They collided over and over, unable to stay away for long. Robert was wrapping himself around the man as best he could, his skin greedily stealing the endless warmth from the fire user.
Flambae seemed to figure it out by then and pulled away–just for a second, but he heard the dispatcher actually whine in complaint–to pull both his and Robert’s shirts off, tossing them somewhere nearby. Robert helped him get rid of both of their pants and undergarments until they were fully naked.
Flambae didn't give a shit that the movie was still playing, he picked Robert up and lifted him with no warning, enjoying the way the man yelped and wrapped his arms around the fire user. Flambae carried them up to the loft–his bedroom. Robert discovered that the master bedroom also had floor to ceiling windows, though only on one side. The bed he was dropped onto was a California king and had a canopy with red curtains framing it. The sheets and pillowcases were shades of orange with black accents, reminding Robert of the man's hero suit. He didn't get much more time to look around the area before Flambae was on top of him, lips leaving a blazing trail down his neck, to his collarbones, and then to his chest. His hands glided down the scarred torso of the man under him, keeping the muscles loose and relaxed.
Flambae always had a hard time with his body heat–it ran higher than normal humans and tended to overheat the people around him, especially his partners. He himself had a high heat tolerance, so he didn't really notice, but people tended to keep their physical distance from him. Prism tended to run warmer than normal people too, and so did Malevola. It helped to have people who understood, even if his body temp was still several degrees higher than both of theirs.
The point was, he'd grown to loathe the heat he constantly put off–until now. Until Robert fucking Robertson gave him that look and arched into his touch like he couldn't get enough. Go fucking figure the asshole who'd cut off two of his fingers and tossed his ass in jail would be the one to appreciate his natural warmth like no one else did. He swore there had to be some cosmic force out there fucking with him. But, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, not when Robert was so damn pretty squirming under him. He'd wanted to take this skinny little loser apart every time his own remarks were simply countered or shut down with that deadpan voice or a roll of the eyes or being pointedly ignored. Robert was too good at keeping his composure, especially in crazy situations, it was totally unfair. Flambae wanted to shatter that mask and watch the man try and fail to fully piece it back together after. He wanted to change the way the dispatcher saw the world, wanted to make him flush red and leave his marks across that scarred skin. He'd heard from Visi about the canvas of scars Robert had, but he'd never actually seen the brutal spread of markings until now. No fucking wonder his heat felt so good to the man, he had to have a fuckton of scar tissue, along with the stick up his ass about professionalism. Flambae would have to fix that.
He closed his mouth around a dusky pink nipple and sucked, listening to the music drawn from the Dispatcher's lips, watching his bony hands clutch at the duvet in his peripheral. He was already thinking of how he could get some meat on those bones and give himself something to grab onto and squeeze. He didn't know how much Robert weighed, but it wasn't enough if Flambae could see his ribs. He'd have to be careful with Robert until the skinny man gained some healthy weight, supers were naturally sturdier than normies and after years of imagining it, he didn't want to break Robert anymore. Well, not in that way, anyways.
He traced the scars and the contours of Robert's muscles with his lips and his teeth until he got to the man's hips. There, he bit at the hip bones, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave marks. Robert shuddered as Flambae's hands slid down, along his thighs. Those hands found his knees and pulled the dispatcher's legs to wrap around his torso as he continued making marks along the V of Robert's hips. When he pulled away, he grinned in satisfaction at the belt of marks he'd left across the pale skin.
Just as Robert raised his head to look at the fire user from where it had fallen against the bed, Flambae took his dick into his mouth and sunk down, his nose burying itself in the short auburn hair at the base. The dispatcher's back arched and his legs tightened around the bigger man as he gave an embarrassingly loud moan, sounding helpless and so fucking pretty it should've been illegal.
He didn't let up, bobbing his head up and down the shaft. Robert was average in size and easy for the fire user to swallow. He'd taken much bigger before, but he did have a preference for the ones who were easier to please, the ones who didn't want to choke him on their cock until he was crying. Degradation really wasn't his thing. He liked to tease, but actually degrading just wasn't fun for him. Praise, though, he ate that shit up, both giving it and receiving it.
Robert clawed at the duvet with shaking hands, making little rocking motions with his hips as Flambae’s overwhelming warmth surrounded his dick, his tongue tracing a vein along the underside and flicking at the ridge of the head. His mouth was so hot, it was almost uncomfortable but just not. It surrounded him, made him writhe. Warm hands grasped his hips, keeping the smaller man buried to the hilt in his mouth. Mercifully, the fire user pulled off just for a moment, letting the dispatcher breathe shaky breaths.
“Say my name,” Flambae insisted, biting a new mark into existence on the man's left thigh and relishing in the whine it got him. “You know you want to.” He went back down on Robert and listened to the sharp cry that echoed around the open space of his room. Robert gasped and squirmed in his grasp, his body starting to shake as he was drawn closer and closer to release, the pleasure unrelenting.
Finally, he threw his head back as he shot down Flambae's throat, milked for all he was worth by that sinful mouth. “Elias~!” He cried out, voice breaking in the middle as his legs tightened around the man's midsection and his thighs trembled. The man gave one last hard suck, prompting a spasm from those legs wrapped around him, before he pulled off, having mercy on the man. All he'd done was blow him and Robert was already wrecked.
Perfect.
He let the dispatcher catch his breath, boneless against the covers and covered in marks. Flambae's warmth had his scars all turning various shades of pink as the blood circulated through the stimulated muscles. Robert had a full body flush going, a deep scarlet coloring his cheeks, ears, and extending down his chest. His eyes were barely open and soft pants left his lips. His legs were still wrapped loosely around the fire user, as if unwilling to let him go. Cute.
Flambae took his time locating the coconut oil in his bedside table drawer. Lube was all well and good, but Flambae liked this alternative because he happened to be a fan of rimming, which he was about to do to his dispatcher. He wondered what Robert's sex life was even like, though he'd easily deduced that it was abysmal, if not non-existent and had been for at least as long as he'd been dispatching. Knowing that Robert was Mecha Man came with the knowledge that he'd also been freshly out of a four month long coma when he'd started dispatching, which explained his physique being the way it was at least for the first month he'd worked there. Past that, the Z-team had noticed that Robert just didn't really take care of himself. They weren't really sure whether that was because he was truly bad at it, he was too broke to do so, or because he just didn't care enough about himself to put effort into it, or possibly all three. Whichever of those it was, they occasionally brought extra leftovers to feed the man for lunch, but they had to be careful about how they did it because Robert was the type of guy to refuse help if he thought it was inconveniencing others. Fucking do-gooder(affectionate).
Flambae retrieved the oil and opened it, setting it on the corner of the bedside table where he could easily reach it. “Roll over for me, Rob.” He gently pulled the man's legs away from his sides and sat back to give him space to do so. Robert obediently rolled over. He let out a squeak that he would never admit to making when his hips were pulled up and he was on his knees. He lifted his top half with his hands and looked back at the fire user over his shoulder, almost seeming shy.
“What's the plan here?” The dispatcher wondered. His voice was a little hoarse, which made Flambae grin.
“I'm gonna blow your mind.” He answered with a smirk, reaching over to coat his thumb in the coconut oil. Robert's cheeks burst into cherry red and he looked forward again, hiding his face from view. Hm, maybe Flambae should get a mirror, right behind the headboard of the bed. He could watch Robert's face, watch him moan and whine when they did it in positions where they weren't facing each other….the idea had merit. And, from the way Robert clung to him and writhed for him, he was pretty confident that this wouldn't be a one time thing.
He rubbed his thumb in circles around that tight furl, massaging it until it was shiny and loosening both from the warmth and the gentle motions. When it was loose enough, he slipped his thumb inside, gently pulling it open. Robert sucked in a surprised breath when he felt something warm and wet lave across the oiled pucker. An even warmer hand smoothed it's way along his flank, chasing away the tension that had settled there again at the foreign sensation.
“Relax, Robert,” The fire user murmured. “I know what I'm doing.” Hearing his actual name and not one of the numerous nicknames the Z-team had come up with was comforting–this was being taken seriously. He appreciated that and let out a shaky breath, trying his best to relax. “Good boy.” The ex-villain purred, rewarding him with a warm hand sliding along his hip and thigh. Robert was suddenly glad Flambae couldn't see his face and how red it got at the praise, though he did wish he could see the man's face.
Paranoia always had him wishing he could see everything happening, not trusting that something wouldn't happen if he couldn't see everything that was going on. But, even more than that, he just wanted to see Flambae's face. The way he looked at Robert under him, the way his vermillion gaze burned into Robert's, so intense and wanting. God, it felt so good to be wanted. He'd spent so much time being needed, but the second he wasn't useful as Mecha Man anymore, it felt like everyone in the city had tossed him aside or turned on him. Meeting Blonde Blazer was the first time since he'd woken up that he felt like a real person and not just some caricature for people to shit on and ridicule. His last shred of identity as a hero was the only reason he'd said yes to the job at SDN, and it turned out to be the thing that saved him, and the thing that hit him here–in a soft bed, wanted and warm and feeling so fucking good that he almost wanted to cry.
He was pulled from his thoughts by that tongue, the tip of it poking into his entrance. He stayed relaxed, aided by Flambae's wandering hand while the other stayed firmly holding his hip. It was a strange sensation, to have a tongue there, but it felt impossibly good too. He'd been fingered and fucked before, but he'd never had this done to him. He'd eaten women out before, but he wasn't sure if that was the same thing….
Flambae once again interrupted his thoughts, pushing his tongue further in. It pulled a hitched breath from the dispatcher and the fire user kept at it. He pushed in and out until he could get as much of his tongue inside as was possible. He licked along the man's insides, knowing that he was probably enjoying the heat from inside. Robert couldn't seem to get enough of Flambae's heat, and the fire user would gladly deliver. It was nice to have someone be so desperate for the thing that chased others away.
Flambae closed his lips around the entrance and sucked hard and Robert's voice shook as he moaned. While the smaller man was distracted by the tongue-fucking, Flambae dipped his fingers into the coconut oil and scooped some out. He'd always appreciated the consistency of the stuff, and the flavor of it was neutral and much better than those gross flavored lubes, in his opinion. Much cheaper too since it was usually used for everyday things like haircare and cooking.
He started with one finger, pushing it inside along with his tongue. Robert's hips shifted, but he didn't voice any discomfort, so Flambae kept going, pushing it in to the third knuckle and then starting to slowly thrust it in. Everyone expected him to be impatient and rush things during sex because of his abrasive personality, but there was a difference between having anger issues and having bad sex etiquette.
When Robert had gotten used to the first finger, he slid a second in, still fucking the man with his tongue while he scissored his fingers to loosen the dispatcher up. Robert still didn't protest or even tense up. Flambae felt pretty proud of himself for that so far, especially when the man was so jumpy and paranoid. When he pushed the third finger in, he pulled his tongue out and crooked his fingers, searching. He knew when he found what he was looking for when Robert's elbows buckled and he let out a surprised moan, muffled by the covers his face was suddenly buried in.
“Do….Do that again.” The dispatcher turned his head to the side to pant out the request. Flambae happily complied, hitting that spot again with his fingers and watching those hips chase his fingers when they pulled back to thrust in again. He hit it a few more times, then spread his fingers to make sure Robert was stretched well before he pulled them out completely. The smaller man whined in protest and he patted his hip.
“Quit complaining at me, this is the best part.” He snickered, using the oil on his fingers to lube up his dick. “Lay down on your stomach.” The look the man aimed at him over his shoulder was doubtful. “Trust me, this is one of the best positions.”
The dispatcher reluctantly laid down on his stomach like he was asked, his head pillowed on his arms. He felt a blunt pressure at his entrance and then Flambae was pushing in, the head making it last the rim. Unlike a few other times he'd done this, it didn't really hurt at all. The sensation was still weird at first, but there wasn't any pain. Flambae had done a really good job both opening him up and keeping him relaxed.
The bigger man intended to wait to let Robert get used to it, but the dispatcher shifted his hips back, peering at the fire user over his shoulder. “You can move, it feels…..” His face went cherry red again. “Feels good.” He muffled the last part in his shoulder. Flambae still heard it and grinned, pushing in further. He only stopped when he was all the way in, his hips pressed to Robert's. He shifted forward, pulling a groan from both of them, and braced his hands on the bed on either side of Robert's head. Prone Bone was one of his favorite positions to top for–literally fucking his partner into the mattress. Not to mention the fact that he had the physique to do it without getting too tired to keep going.
Flambae started a rhythm, pulling his hips back and pushing back in hard enough for the slap of their skin colliding to echo around the room. He watched Robert's ears get redder at the lewd sounds and grinned to himself, kicking it up to a faster pace. All he had to do was change the angle of his hips the slightest bit and immediately hit the dispatcher's prostate dead on.
Robert gave a choked gasp, shoving his face into the duvet to muffle the sounds that came out of his mouth. That wouldn't do.
Flambae leaned down, sucking a mark into the skin of the smaller man's neck, then he trailed kisses across the cheek he could reach until Robert gave in and raised his head enough to connect their lips.
Flambae slammed his hips in, swallowing all of the dispatcher's sounds and letting them fuel his determination to give Robert that Life Changing Dick he'd mentioned earlier. Robert sounded so lovely with that low, raspy voice moaning and keening for him.
Flambae pulled away, leaning back up and pausing his movements. His hand found the crook of a knee and he pushed one leg out to the side, letting him slide in just a bit deeper. It also had Robert's back curving more. With that, the fire user started fucking into him brutally, pulling sounds from the smaller man on every thrust, though they sounded hiccuped from the way each thrust shoved the dispatcher forward a bit. Robert braced himself by grasping Flambae's wrists and pushing his hips back into each thrust.
The heat in his gut coiled, tightening like a spring as his second orgasm crept up on him the more Flambae hit his prostate on every thrust, hard and fast. He didn't even have time to warn the man, instead cumming and making a mess where his dick was trapped between his own stomach and the bed. He let out a low whine that he muffled by biting down on the duvet, his grasp around the fire user's wrists tightening spasmodically as his hips jerked back into the thrusts that just kept coming, the movements grinding his dick against the duvet while he rode it out.
Robert's ass tightening around Flambae sent the bigger man toppling over the edge and he groaned, biting his lip as he pumped his release into the man. It was quite literally like being filled with hot liquid and Robert could physically feel it inside him, moaning helplessly at the sensation. He'd never actually had a thing for creampies until now, could never actually feel it until it was dripping out of his ass and cooling tacky on the insides of his thighs. He'd actually kind of hated that sensation before, but this….this he could get down with.
The dispatcher had expected they would catch their breaths and then Flambae would pull out and hopefully indulge in some aftercare, but that wasn't what happened. No, after watching the smaller man moan and squirm on his cock while he filled him up, Flambae growled and rolled over, pulling Robert with him so they were on their sides and pressed back to front. He started thrusting his hips again and Robert gave a surprised cry. A warm hand gripped his thigh and pulled it over the bigger man's hip, opening him up and letting the fire user slide deeper inside, hitting his sweet spot from a new angle.
“Fuck, Eli, what–?!” Robert choked out, overstimulation shorting out his brain before he could even finish his question. It didn't quite hurt, it just registered as too much, too much, too much, but that soon turned into a mantra of keep going, keep going, keep going as he was skewered on Flambae's literal hot rod. His dick had been softening, but he was being rocketed back into hardness at a dizzying rate. “Ungh, Eli, I just came, I can't–” He writhed, unable to escape the intense, overwhelming pleasure now zapping across his nerves like electricity. The fire user pulled him into a kiss over his shoulder. The angle should have been painful for his neck, but all he felt was Flambae and his warmth and the unending pleasure wracking his body.
“Yes you can,” Flambae insisted breathlessly. “You can give me one more.”
Robert let out a guttural groan at the pure want–the pure desperation–in the bigger man's voice, the way his grasp on Robert's thigh tightened. He hoped it bruised so he could have a reminder of this later.
For a long moment, the only noise was them, moaning and panting and the slap of their skin meeting over and over again, then Flambae opened his mouth again. “You're still a bitch,” The fire user told him lowly, his hot breaths hitting the dispatcher's ear as he snapped his hips into that skinny ass. He'd get more meat on those bones just to have something more to squeeze and grab at, something more to bruise with his grip and mark up with his teeth. “You're just my bitch now.”
“S-Shouldn’t we–oh, fuck! Shouldn't we talk about-ah! About that first?” Robert pointed out between moans as Flambae actively ruined every other experience he'd had with men. The hand gripping his thigh and the chest pressed against his scarred back made him shudder as they spread their warmth to him, soothing the aches he'd grown used to. He'd forgotten what it was like not to be in pain. He could almost cry at the lack of the constant ache in his body that he'd gotten so used to by now.
“Who else are you going home with?” The fire user demanded breathlessly, slamming his hips in hard so he could listen to the music they made with their bodies echo around the wide room. “Huh? I'll burn their house down–can’t take you back to their place if it's ashes.”
Robert let out a moan at that, unimaginably turned on by the possessiveness. He never thought he'd like the feeling of belonging to someone, but being wanted so badly that the man would literally destroy someone's home just to keep Robert coming back to him made his head spin in an embarrassingly affectionate way. Robert already knew this wouldn't be just a one time thing–he’d keep coming back to watch movies and probably end up having sex with Elias and maybe they'd go get food together sometimes and maybe Robert would leave some of his clothes here just have something clean to change into after they slept together and maybe Eli would get an extra toothbrush for him in his bathroom and–woah, that was a level of attachment Robert wasn't expecting from himself….
“Stop thinking so hard, I promise I won't kill anyone.” Flambae huffed, rolling his eyes even as he drilled into the smaller man held against him relentlessly. “I just have to make sure mine is the only bed you're in.” His arm was a hot bar across the dispatcher's chest, holding him possessively close.
Robert turned his head to the side and tangled a hand in the fire user's long wavy hair, pulling him down by it to connect their lips in a kiss that he hoped portrayed his feelings towards the man. Robert was good at giving pep talks and speeches, but emotional shit? God help him, he was absolutely shitty at it.
Flambae kissed back with the same intensity, dominating and just as needy and desperate as Robert felt. He stole the dispatcher's breath and swallowed the noises he drew from him, kicking up the speed of his thrusts. He nailed Robert's prostate over and over again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending.
The hand holding Robert's thigh over his hip shifted, the skinnier man's leg held in place by Flambae's elbow while his hand wrapped around the dispatcher’s dick and jerked him in time to his thrusts. His moans got more frequent, more high pitched and reedy as he shifted his hips back into the thrusts and forward into the heated and callused hand around him.
“Come on, Robert, cum for me again.” The fire user panted when they separated, staying close enough to breathe in each other's air as they reached their peaks together. “Give me one more, I know you can.” He insisted, voice low and gravelly. “Be a good boy for me and give me one more, won't you?”
“Eli, please, I–” He couldn't put what he needed into words, stuck teetering on the edge and so desperate as he met the man thrust for thrust, held open and exposed. “So close, I need–” He gasped, shuddering from the endless barrage of pleasure.
Somehow, Flambae understood what he needed, trailing hot kisses down his neck until his lips met the place where Robert's neck met his shoulder and he bit down, hard. Robert's back arched as he let out a drawn-out moan as he came for the third time that night. He constricted around Flambae and the fire user followed a second later, filling him up again with that almost unbearably warm release that made the dispatcher tremble and had his eyes rolling back into his skull as the sensation had him spurting a few extra shots with a weak whimper.
Eventually, Flambae pulled out and Robert made a noise in complaint, though it was nice when his leg was let down and he was blanketed by the bigger man. He lost track of time and whatever was happening around him, thoroughly worn out. He vaguely noticed the sound of the movie downstairs finally stopping at some point. The next time he was lucid enough to figure out what was going on, he and Flambae were both cleaned off and under the covers of the bed, skin to skin and warm.
Robert lay halfway across the man's chest, contentedly stealing the body heat provided to him. He shifted until he could tuck his face into the crook of Flambae's neck, feeling his stubble scrape his cheek and goosebumps breaking out across his skin at the sensation. Others might have found it abrasive, but Robert liked it. He fell asleep like that, safe and warm and content.
§~•~§~•~§
Flambae woke up alone in bed, which was disappointing, but once the smell of cooking bacon hit his nose, he realized why. The whole thing that started this was that one scene in that shitty movie Prism said they should watch–breakfast during the Morning After.
The fire user got out of bed and put on a pair of underwear–no need for actual clothes just yet. He could have just walked down the stairs, but he wanted to see what Robert was like when the dispatcher wasn't aware anyone was watching him, when he had his guard down. Flambae was flattered that Robert felt safe and secure enough to even have his guard down in his home.
The retired hero stood at the stove in one of Flambae's shirts–it was big on his narrower frame and the v-neck slid off of one shoulder, exposing the tantalizing skin. Flambae didn't know an oversized T-shirt could look so sexy, but it was doing something for him. It was long enough for the hem to flutter at mid-thigh and baggy enough on him to hide his slim physique. Flambae could see the marks he'd left on the man the night before, all along his neck, that one under his ear, and along the part of his collarbone and shoulder that was exposed. Robert had bacon and scrambled eggs going, with a griddle that had circles of pancake batter on it cooking as well. He was keeping track of all of them easily and seemed quite content, if the small smile on his face was any indication.
Flambae felt satisfaction and pride curl in his chest–Robert had said the dick would have to be life changing for him to make breakfast, and clearly the fire user had delivered. The dispatcher would probably regret giving him such an ego boost later, but the ex-villain would never let it go. This breakfast was a reward he'd earned fair and square and he was going to enjoy it and what it implied.
Flambae floated down from the lofted master bedroom silently, landing behind the man at his stove. He knew Robert was jumpy, but he just couldn't resist. The dispatcher flinched with a hissed intake of breath when Flambae's arms wrapped around him, but he quickly relaxed once those warm hands pushed up under the shirt and spread their warmth across his chest and sides. Flambae pressed against his back and the shorter man turned his head to the side to tuck his face against the fire user's neck for a moment before refocusing on the food.
“So….” Flambae started. “Life changing, huh?”
Robert fought a smile, but the fire user could see it. “Shut your face and take the compliment.”
“Mm, but you're just so easy to tease, Bob Bob.” Flambae planted a kiss on the dispatcher's bare shoulder and another on his neck. He also discovered that Robert hadn't bothered with putting his underwear back on. Flambae's hand skated along a leanly muscled thigh, caressing teasingly close to the soft cock hidden just under the shirt. Fuck, the things this damn shirt on the smaller man was doing to him….
“Hey, we can go for round 4 after breakfast.” The shorter man told him warningly. “You wore me out, let me get some strength back, Jesus.”
“You're only making this worse for yourself.” The fire user snickered, planting a kiss on Robert's cheek before the dispatcher turned his head to connect their lips.
Flambae wasn't quite used to the domesticity of this Morning After, and neither was Robert. Funnily enough, they were both One Night Stand kinds of guys, but one of them was because he couldn't find the right one and the other was more out of necessity. Flambae was too spicy for people to handle and Robert had been too busy being a hero until now.
Thankfully, it seemed that they'd both found their match.