Archive of Our Own

Robert pushed his way through the crowd, two drinks held in his hands. He kept them close, trying not to spill them all over the floor. He had been elbowed by so many different fuckers in the bar that he was genuinely surprised and maybe a little impressed he hadn’t spilled either. He spotted Invisigal sitting at a booth, a lit cigarette between her fingers, and he shoved his way over the final few steps to join her. He slid into the other side of the table with a loud sigh and pushed one of the drinks her way. She caught it and lifted it in a little cheers.

“Everyone thinks I’m a narc.”

“They can still smell the hero on you,” Invisigal shrugged one shoulder, leaning back in her chair. “You’re the enemy. That eyeliner looks fucking good on you, by the way. You should totally wear it more often.”

“I bought them drinks,” Robert frowned down at his drink, ignoring the added comment. “What else do they want?”

“You can buy ‘em drinks. You can make sure they don’t get fired,” Invisigal gave him an incredibly pointed look over her drink before placing it down on the table. She picked her cigarette back up from the ash tray it had been smoldering away in. “You can line ‘em up and blow ‘em one by one but they’re still gonna think you might be the hero that fucked up their life.”

“People don’t think about much when I blow them-” Robert said, sarcasm lacing his tone. He took a moment before sighing again. “-but I hear what you’re saying. Though I’d argue they fucked up their own lives by being criminals.”

Invisigal rolled her eyes. “See, that's narc shit. Just tell ‘em who you are.”

Robert’s eyes flashed up to meet Invisigal’s, a small pit of fear growing in his stomach. Tell them who he was? Did he even fucking know that? What the hell did she even-

“Hey! Stop freaking out.”

Robert shook his head a little and took a drink, defensive. “I am not freaking out.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, I could literally see you beating yourself up inside your stupid head,” Invisigal sat forward in her seat and lowered her voice a little; wildly out of character for her. “I didn’t mean… I wouldn’t ever… All of that stuff is entirely up to you, dude. Your own time. I just mean tell the rest of the Z-Teamers that you’re Mecha Man. Or… I guess, used to be? I’m not exactly straight on all of that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I also don’t know where the fuck we are on that front,” Robert ran his free hand through his hair and finished his drink. “I don’t know. I don’t know what good telling the team would do.”

“Trust, dude. It’s all about the trust,” Invisigal downed the rest of her drink as well. She shrugged a shoulder again, folding her arms. “Take it from someone who hears all the gossip, everyone in the team is fucking dying to find out who you used to be.”

“Yeah, I heard about the running bet,” Robert leant his chin on one hand, looking across at Invisigal. “What’s the plan for that if I never tell anyone by the way? And did you put a vote in because I feel like that is absolutely cheating.”

“What are you gonna do? Tell on me? Narc?” Invisigal’s words held no real venom; the laugh in her eyes gave it away. “I don’t know, man, I just think you gotta tell ‘em. What’re the odds that you busted any of ‘em anyway.”

Robert froze, guilt flashing across his face. Invisigal caught it and sat up a little straighter.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Robert groaned and leant forward until his forehead hit the table. It smelt like cigarette ash and stale beer. “I am so incredibly fucked.”

“Shit, dude, who the hell even was it-”

Robert felt a hand clap onto his shoulder and a voice cut across Invisigal’s, interrupting her mid sentence. The hand was warm and their voice. Oh Jesus Christ, his fucking luck.

“Robert! Bitch!” Flambae shook him not so gently. “What, did you fucking die or something?”

“I wish.” Robert muttered, sitting up straight.

“What the fuck did you just say? It’s so fucking loud in here, Jesus Christ. Are you fucking wearing eyeliner? What the fuck, Bob-bob,” Flambae tightened his grip on Robert’s shoulder. “Did you hear my song? My incredibly fucking hilarious song to publicly humiliate you?”

Robert stared up at Flambae blankly. He had heard the man’s quite frankly terrible rendition of ‘Bitch’ and while he could maybe see the humour in it if he squinted, it was much funnier to pretend like he hadn’t heard a fucking word of the song. “Oh? You already went up? Damn, I was gonna get front row and everything. I was curious if you were gonna do Whitney after all.”

“What the fuck? You didn’t hear any of it?” Flambae scoffed, the offense evident in his tone. Bingo. Robert had struck a nerve with this one.

“No, man, sorry. I guess I was outside giving Golem his drinks? He really kept me out there for a sec. Wanted to talk about a couple of things,” Robert could see Invisigal fighting back a laugh, hiding behind lighting a second cigarette. “Right, Visi? I was out there for a while.”

Invisigal coughed for a moment, thumping her chest. Robert had caught her off guard. She shot him a quick glare. “Yeah man, they had a real heart to heart out there. Real soap shit.”

“See?” Robert turned his tone apologetic, giving his best puppy eyes. “Maybe they’ll let you go up again?”

Flambae shoved Robert’s shoulder hard and scoffed again. “Fuck off. Literally fuck off. That shit was gold and you didn’t even fucking- ugh. Fuck you.” He poked Robert in the shoulder and jerked his head toward the bar. “You should get me another drink. Bitch.”

Robert considered turning him down but one look showed that he had that you-better-not-say-not-to-me look on his face. Robert sighed, pushing up from his chair. “What, that shitty whiskey from earlier wasn’t good enough for you?”

Invisigal watched the two of them walk away, her cigarette hanging from her mouth. She looked almost concerned for Robert’s wellbeing and he shot her an unenthusiastic thumbs-up. Robert allowed himself to be man-handled to the bar by Flambae, barely catching himself before he tripped over one of the bar stools. Flambae laughed at Robert’s near-miss and leant against the bar, flexing his shoulders back. Robert tried his absolute best to keep his eyes in check and faced himself toward the bartender, lifting his hand. The guy came over, eyebrows raised.

“Two more shitty whiskeys, please,” Flambae grumbled beside him and knocked on the bar next to Robert’s hand. Robert rolled his eyes. “Four shitty whiskeys.”

The bartender nodded and started pouring. Flambae made a face beside Robert and pushed his shoulder. “What’s with the shitty whiskey, Bob-bob?” he laughed to himself again, leaning in closer. “Your shitty little desk job not pay you enough for the good stuff?”

“Probably not,” Robert shrugged, sliding two of the whiskeys to Flambae and keeping the other two for himself. He took a sip out of one and watched as Flambae downed one of his drinks in one go. “Uh, woah. You good?”

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Flambae threw the other drink back, his grin wide and all teeth. Well. All but one. Oops. “Powers, bitch. Takes a lot more to get me wasted.”

Robert raised an eyebrow at him, following suit and finishing his own drink. He was starting to feel it a little. The hazy feeling in the back of his head, the weight on his tongue. “Are you trying to get wasted?”

Flambae stared at him for a minute. No, hold on. Flambae stared at his lips for a minute. Ok. Finally Flambae dragged his eyes back up to meet Robert’s. “Maybe I am, bitch. What, are you a fucking narc or something?”

“Lot of people callin’ me that tonight,” Robert felt a little braver than normal. Maybe it was the shitty whiskey. Maybe it was the way Flambae would not fucking stop glancing down at his lips. What the fuck was happening. He slid closer to Flambae and grabbed his second drink. He looked up at Flambae through his eyelashes as he took a small sip. He let his lips linger on the rim. “So Flambae. What’s got you getting wasted tonight?”

Flambae made a noise low in his throat and Robert smiled, a little shit eating grin that must’ve set something off in Flambae. He grabbed the drink in Robert’s hand, his bigger hand covering Robert’s as he forced the rest of it down Robert’s throat. Robert choked a little but made a valiant effort to swallow the drink. Yeah, he was surprised but he wasn’t about to waste perfectly good shitty whiskey. Flambae set the glass back down on the bar and grabbed Robert’s hand, pulling him back onto the dance floor. For a singular confusing moment, Robert thought he was genuinely going to try to get him to dance but he was shoving the two of them past everyone until they got to- oh. The bathrooms.

Flambae pushed him into the bathroom and then into one of the stalls. It was a small mercy that Robert saw the bathroom was empty, all the stall doors wide open. Flambae kicked the stall door closed with his foot and locked it, turning back around to face Robert. “Last chance to back out. Bitch.”

Robert gave him that shit eating smile again. “Not a chance, asshole.”

“God, you are so fucking annoying.”

Flambae closed the gap between them, crowding Robert up against the side of the stall. He grabbed Robert’s face and pulled him in for an open mouthed kiss, wet and warm. Robert bit back the little moan that threatened to spill out, lest he reveal how much of a whore he could be in the first five seconds. Flambae’s tongue slid against his own as a leg was slotted between his thighs. One of Flambae’s hands was still holding Robert’s face, the other sliding down to his waist. His touch was firm and grounding, keeping Robert in place. The whiskey made his head spin a little and tried to pull Flambae closer, his fingers catching on his stupid ass suit.

“Jesus, so fucking needy,” Flambae said against the side of his face, nosing his way down Robert’s throat. He stayed there for a moment, his breath flickering against Robert, before pressing an open kiss to the underside of Robert’s jaw. He kissed his way down the column of his neck before stopping where his shoulder connected. Robert could feel him smile against his skin and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Flambae biting down. He gasped sharply, his hands scrambling at the front of Flambae’s suit. He could feel Flambae sucking a bruise into his skin, before moving back up to his throat and continuing his efforts.

“F-Flambae, not where people can see, you asshole,” Robert said, trying to push Flambae back but the other man was stronger. Much stronger. “Dude, I have an office job, you can’t just cover me in fucking hickeys.”

He felt Flambae laugh against him before he pushed his thigh up against Robert, making him gasp a little and grind down. “Too late. Plus, you think I’m going to fucking listen to you? You’re totally my bitch right now,” he ran his tongue over the myriad of bruises Robert could feel littering his throat and his shoulder. “God, you look so fucking hot right now. I want this stupid shirt off of you. Too fucking big for you anyway who fucking picked this shit out? Were they out of tiny sizes at the bitch store?”

His fingers undid the buttons on Robert’s SDN uniform shirt but he left it on. With a huff, he moved Robert around until he was sitting up against the top of the toilet with his back pressed against the wall of the bathroom. Flambae was back crowding his space again in an instant, their mouths crashing back together. In this position, Robert’s legs were splayed apart and Flambae had one knee against the closed lid. Flambae’s hand was still on the open collar of Robert’s shirt and his breathing stuttered a moment. Flambae noticed it, because of course he fucking did, and pulled back to raise an eyebrow at Robert. He let his hand drift a little closer to Robert’s throat and didn’t miss the way that Robert’s breathing caught once more, this time coupled with a seemingly unconscious grind of his hips. Flambae’s hand closed around the base of his throat and Robert felt like he was going to explode into a million pieces underneath him. His half-lidded eyes met Flambae’s wide ones and Robert honest to God whined.

Flambae’s other hand was back on him, reaching for the button of Robert’s pants. He managed to get the buttons undone and start on the zipper before the two of them heard the bathroom door swing open. They both froze, neither breathing.

“You guys can keep fucking, I don’t care,” Sonar’s voice called out to them from the stall next door. “No one else is brave enough to come in here. You would not believe the queue for the ladies right now. Apparently people saw you two eye-fucking it up at the bar and then ol’ Bobby got his ass dragged in here so people are a little scared of getting flashed.”

“Batbitch,” Flambae hissed between gritted teeth. “Fuck. Off.”

“Aw, come on dude. I’m literally just here to do some blow, you don’t even gotta worry about me,” Robert heard some shuffling, an unfamiliar noise, followed by a loud and frankly painful sounding snorting. Oh Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God,” Flambae let his head fall against Robert’s chest. “Batboner, if you don’t leave literally right the fuck now, I will burn your dick and balls off of your stupid fucking bat body.”

“Jeez dude, no need for threats,” the two of them jumped when the voice location changed, Sonar’s head popping over the top of the stall. He took in the scene before him, his snout still ringed in white. “Nice, dude. Do you guys want a third? I could bring a lot of stamina to the party.”

"Fuck off!"

Sonar threw his hands up in the air before dropping back down. “I was only offering! I’ll leave you lovebirds to it! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And just as quickly as he showed up, the door swung shut once more and it was silent.

It was too quiet for Robert. He hated the silence stretching out, their breathing the only thing between them. He finally decided to break it. “Y’know, if the mood is gone, it’s f-”

Flambae’s hand tightened against Robert’s throat slightly, cutting off his words and dragging a small moan out of him. His hand was so fucking warm, almost bordering on too hot. “Give me a fucking minute. I am so pissed off right now.”

Robert sat, his hands still clutched against the front of Flambae’s suit. His heart thumped in his chest, very aware of the large hand around his throat. Flambae wasn’t cutting off his oxygen at all, at least not yet, but the weight was making Robert’s head spin. He was rock fucking solid in his work pants, desperate to get back against Flambae’s thigh and grind against it. Hooking up with anyone else, he might’ve been able to get off that way. Correction; he knew he would. He knew it wouldn’t take long either. But he also knew Flambae would never let it go. Call him a girl. Call him a minute man or some shit. Make fun of him for it. But still, he yearned for any friction. Before he could come up with some snarky remark about getting his dick wet, Flambae’s lips were back on his. It took him off guard but he recovered quickly, letting his hands come up to run through Flambae’s hair. He half expected to get incinerated for trying it but Flambae was more concerned with pushing his tongue back in Robert’s mouth. His hair was so fucking long what the hell. Robert found the hair tie and pulled, letting Flambae’s hair come loose. Flambae pulled back for a moment, his eyebrows knitted together, but he was quiet when he saw Robert’s eyes staring up at him.

“Pretty.”

The way Flambae’s hair curled around his face made Robert’s stomach twinge with jealousy. How long would he have to grow his hair out to get it even close to that length? And surely it wouldn’t look the same. Flambae probably had a ten step hair routine to keep it looking like that. Robert still used a three in one.

“Yeah, of course I am, bitch. Nice of you to finally say something about it,” Flambae said, clearly angling to get his ego boosted a little. “I’m literally the prettiest member of the fucking team. Except maybe Prism. But I am so fucking hot, it’s actually insane.”

Robert tested the waters, gently pushing himself forward until Flambae let him stand back up. With his grip securely on the front of Flambae’s suit, he moved until he was backed up against the wall of the stall. Keeping his eyes firmly on Flambae’s, Robert slowly dropped to the floor. He tried really hard not to think about how disgusting the bathroom floor of the Sardine would be and instead busied himself with trying to yank Flambae’s suit down. It was really fucking difficult from the angle he had but Flambae took pity on him and pushed it over his shoulders and down to his hips. Flambae was watching him with a sort of amused interest, almost like he wanted to make a joke or two but he was also nervous it might make Robert run. And judging by the way he was straining against the front of his ugly ass spandex, he really didn’t want Robert to run.

Robert pulled the suit a little further down to get into Flambae’s briefs, which he was incredibly surprised to see. He guessed he had never really thought about what was going on under there but had settled on the thought that Flambae surely had to be going commando. His suit was so tight, how the fuck did he not get lines. Robert used to try going commando but it just felt weird against his dick. His Mecha Man suit wasn’t exactly the softest or most comfortable, and he spent most of his time in the mech itself so he quickly learned that padding was the best move. He was distracted and Flambae had noticed. Shit.

“I know, my dick is fucking huge. Get over it already,” Flambae said, the slight waver in his voice giving him away. “I know you’re used to seeing your tiny little dick but now you have a giant dick literally in front of you. Do something.”

Robert rolled his eyes and pushed Flambae’s briefs down around his thighs, genuinely having to lean back a little to not get hit by Flambae’s dick coming free. Jesus Christ, it was annoying to find out that he wasn’t fucking around when he made all those jokes about his huge dick. He flattened his tongue along the underside and dragged upward, enjoying the way Flambae groaned above him. Hands were in his hair in an instant, just barely tugging. Robert gripped the base of Flambae’s dick, jacking him off while he swirled his tongue over the head. Flambae huffed out a breath, his fingers tightening in Robert’s hair. He looked down at Robert, his expression almost a warning. Robert disregarded and took Flambae’s cock in his mouth, taking his time. Flambae’s hips stuttered a little and he had the good sense to control himself, the sound of his forehead dropping against the wall loud in the stall.

“Holy fucking shit, Bob-bob, who taught you how to do this,” Flambae panted from above, the warm hands threaded through Robert’s hair inching closer to painful. “Who would’ve thought our fucking idiot dispatcher knew how to take a dick like this.”

Determined, Robert slid his hands up until they reached the small of Flambae’s back and then he pushed. Gently but it caught Flambae off guard and he jerked his hips forward. Robert choked slightly around his dick, breathing in deep through his nose. When Flambae looked mildly panicked and seemed like he was going to try and pull out, Robert closed his eyes and let himself sink forward until he had taken it all. His nose buried in the neat patch of hair, he swallowed around Flambae’s cock and felt the grip in his hair tighten further.

“Fuck. Fuck. Robert,” Flambae’s voice broke a little and his hips pushed forward again. Robert opened his eyes and stared up at Flambae. The man swore under his breath again and used his grip on Robert’s hair to pull him back until his dick was free once more. Robert whined again, trying to tug him forward again and Flambae laughed, the sound quick and surprised. “Jesus, Bob-bob, you need to fucking breathe, dude. I’m gonna fuck your face, I promise, I’m just not trying to fucking kill you in the process.”

Robert panted beneath him, still kind of slack-jawed and unfocused. “You couldn’t kill me,” he challenged. “Too much of a pussy.”

“What the fuck?” Flambae sounded genuinely taken aback at that and yeah, Robert could see how that could be a concerning statement if you were missing the crucial context that he was Mecha Man and that the two of them had fought it out before. “Fucking suicidal weirdo, you can’t be saying shit like that while I’m trying to fuck you.”

Robert shrugged. “Was trying to piss you off,” he said plainly.

Flambae raised his eyebrows and pulled Robert’s hair till his head was angled up toward Flambae. Robert barely bit back a loud moan at the rough handling. “You were trying to piss me off?” Flambae asked. It sounded like he was starting to catch on. “Fucking brat. You should learn how to shut the fuck up.”

Robert couldn’t help his smug little smile. “Why don’t you make me?”

Flambae moved one of his hands away from Robert’s hair and he almost made a noise at the loss of contact but the hand quickly swung back to slap Robert straight across the face. The crack rang out through the empty bathroom and Robert couldn’t hold back the loud moan that followed. He panted as Flambae sneered down at him, moving to shove his dick back into Robert’s mouth unceremoniously.

“Bitch.”

Robert quietly thanked God for his strong hold over his gag reflex as Flambae fucked into this throat. He swallowed around him and relaxed his jaw as best he could, tears pricking in his eyes. Flambae was using his rough hold on Robert’s hair to pull him back and push him forward, keeping a steady pace. Robert’s own hands were clutching onto Flambae’s hips, torn between shoving him away and trying to see if he could tug him any further forward. His jaw ached and tears fell freely down his face now as Flambae fucked into him. One of his hands ran down to wrap around Robert’s throat, close to his jaw. He swore under his breath and Robert realized he could probably feel himself. The thought made Robert’s head go a little hazy; or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Breathing in deep through his nose, he choked a little around Flambae’s cock but the other man didn’t seem to notice or care. His pace had picked up and he was swearing endlessly under his breath, the sound of his moans filling the room.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. You’re taking me so well, Jesus Christ, dude. What the fuck, feels like fucking heaven on my dick,” Flambae sucked in a quick breath and stopped for a second, his cock pushed in as far as it could in Robert’s throat. “Fuck, that feels good. You’re doing so well, Bob-bob.”

The nickname almost made Robert roll his eyes but the praise made his heart flutter and his dick twitch. He moaned around Flambae’s dick and looked up through his wet eyelashes. Flambae stared down at him, his eyes flicking over Robert’s tear-streaked face then further down to his lap. He could definitely see the way Robert strained against his pants and it put an evil smile on his face. “Such a good job for me. Letting me use you like my own little toy.”

Robert jerked his hips forward with a muffled moan, his eyes pleading. Flambae pulled back out and let Robert take a moment to cough, his lungs rattling a little in his chest. “Shit,” Robert rasped, sucking in air. “F-fuck.”

“You like that, huh? You like when I treat you like the slut you are?” Flambae teased. Of course he teased. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Robert’s cheeks were burning. He’d never really gotten himself in this position. He had always been expected to be the one running the show; the one doing the praising. Never this. It had never been him. He avoided eye contact with Flambae as long as he could before Flambae grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look up at him. “I didn’t say I was done with you, did I, bitch?”

Apparently that was all the time Robert got to return his breathing to normal. Flambae was pushing his cock back into Robert’s open mouth and Robert was letting him, letting his jaw go slack to accommodate. The break had been a good opportunity for Robert to level his breathing but the brutal pace Flambae had picked up nearly knocked the wind out of him again. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was the lack of oxygen but Robert was feeling dizzy with it. The way that Flambae was holding his head and moving him around, his complete lack of agency in this position, was making him so hard it almost hurt. He hadn’t quite been used like this before but he knew he didn’t want it to be the last.

He was so out of it and lost in his own head, he almost missed Flambae cursing loudly above him. Almost missed the way his rhythm fell out of time and the way he shoved himself far forward. Robert moaned around him as Flambae came, swallowing obediently as more tears tracked their way down his cheeks. Flambae’s hips were shaking a little as he held Robert in place, shivering as Robert continued to swallow around his cock. Eventually he pulled Robert off and watched him as he coughed again, leaning back against the stall wall. Robert wiped the corner of his mouth with the heel of his hand and watched Flambae as he tucked his dick back into his briefs and pulled the suit back up.

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude,” he said finally. Robert lolled his head back and stared up at Flambae, his eyes half-lidded. Flambae knelt down in front of him and tilted his head, his hand skirting over the front of Robert’s pants. “You okay?”

Robert bucked up into the touch with a small whine. “Please.” His voice sounded wrecked.

“You did such a good job for me. Took me so well,” Flambae’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, his other hand grabbing Robert by the chin. “Such a good boy for me.”

Before he could stop it, a grimace flashed across Robert’s face. He tried to quickly neutralize his expression, trying so hard to cover the slip up before Flambae noticed. But the fucker noticed everything and their faces were too close to miss it. Flambae’s head tilted even further in confusion and in his drunk haze, Robert thought he almost looked like a puppy.

“Thought you liked the praise, bitch,” Flambae said. Robert slid his eyes to the side and Flambae tutted, his grip on Robert’s chin forcing his gaze back. “Uh-uh. What was that?”

“What?” Robert said defensively.

“You know what. You got a problem with being a good boy? Want me to call you my good girl instead?” It was said in a teasing way. He was teasing. He didn’t mean it. But Robert let out a little breathy sound and shifted, trying to pull his face away again. Flambae looked surprised for a second before his expression shifted. “Oh. Oh. Okay. I can work with this.”

He hauled Robert to his feet and surged forward. For a moment Robert thought he was going to kiss him again but Flambae’s teeth were back on his neck, on the other side this time. Robert gasped and his hands settled back on the front of Flambae’s suit. Flambae was taking his time leaving more marks, slowly making his way down Robert’s chest. His head was at an angle that was surely a strain. He was a good couple inches taller. Robert bit his lip to stifle the noise that slipped out of him when Flambae licked his way back up to his throat, his fingers catching against the fabric of his suit. Flambae had undone his buttons earlier but this time, he was unzipping Robert’s pants and pushing them down his hips. He only got them down far enough that he could slide his hand into Robert’s underwear and pull him out. Robert liked to think he had a perfectly average sized dick but he still braced himself for the tiny penis jokes from Flambae.

They never came.

Flambae was crowding his space, one hand stroking Robert’s dick and the other running its way up to rest against the base of his throat. It lingered there for a second and Flambae met Robert’s eyes, almost questioning. Robert let out a low groan and nodded quickly. Flambae’s face broke into a smug smile that was almost evil. The hand against his throat didn’t move; the other slowing to an agonizing pace. Robert whined, confused, and tried to buck his hips up into Flambae’s fist. The other man grinned at him, raising a single eyebrow expectantly, and Robert realized what he wanted. This bitch.

“P-please,” he gasped quietly, head rushing. “Please, Flambae.”

“Please what?” Flambae replied, his tone teasing again. Robert honest to God growled against him, frustrated and so warm he felt like he was going to implode. The outburst made Flambae laugh. “Cute. What do you want?”

Robert struggled against him, his defiant streak making a brief return. It wasn’t until Flambae’s hand on his dick stopped entirely that he gave in, his hips trying to jerk forward for friction. “Please touch me. Please keep touching me.”

Flambae’s hand around the base of his throat raised higher and tightened, making Robert’s head swim. His other hand resumed its former speed, jacking Robert off at a steady rhythm. He leant in, his lips pressed into the shell of Robert’s ear and he dropped his voice to a low register. “Good girl.”

Robert moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hands came up to hold Flambae’s wrist on the hand wrapped around his throat and he gasped when Flambae flexed his fingers a little tighter. “Mmngh…f-fuck.”

His grip was never positioned to knock the air entirely out of Robert, but he still felt the haze creeping in. He felt Flambae’s lips against his ear, against his cheek, against the side of his head. It all felt too intimate. Too close. Robert didn’t know what to do with it. Not long ago, he’d been used like a fuck toy for Flambae’s amusement and now the man was pressing soft kisses over his face and forcing him to look him in the eyes while he jacked him off. All the while he was whispering little sweet nothings to him, filling him with praise.

“Such a good girl for me. Being so well behaved now. You’re so wet for me, can you feel it?” Flambae said, his voice hushed. The hand wrapped around Robert’s dick sped up and Robert gasped, a low moan in the back of his throat. He was right, Robert could hear the obscene wet slide of his dick against Flambae’s hand. Having his throat used like that had clearly done something to him. “My good girl.”

Robert didn’t know what to do with that. The words whispered against his mouth sent a shudder across his entire body and he keened, stuttering his hips forward. “Yours.”

Flambae’s pace faltered a little at that. Maybe Robert had fucked up. Taken it too far. But Flambae quickly resumed as if nothing had changed. His hand dropped from Robert’s throat and Robert sucked in a breath, trying hard to not chase after his touch. Flambae was back up in his space, pushing his body against Robert’s. He let Robert press his nose into the side of his neck, burying his face away as Flambae’s hand stroked his dick. The stimulation felt so fucking good, Robert couldn’t stop any of the noises leaving him. Flambae seemed to enjoy pulling the various ‘hah ah ah’s from Robert. He felt Flambae’s free hand tangling up into his hair again but there was no tug; just gentle pets. Robert huffed in frustration and rocked his hips forward into Flambae’s grip. He could feel it, coiling in his gut. He was getting close but it wasn’t enough. He needed something.

“Are you close, babygirl?” The nickname caught Robert off guard and he moaned loud against Flambae’s shoulder. “So pretty under me. You going to cum for me?”

Robert nodded quickly but his face was scrunched up in annoyance, buried in Flambae’s neck. He was trying to chase his release but it wasn’t enough. Flambae seemed to notice his frustration and he nosed his way across Robert’s exposed shoulder in front of him. The SDN shirt had fallen down to pool at his elbows but Robert hadn’t even noticed. Flambae’s pace on his dick picked up again as he bit his sharp canines into Robert’s shoulder. Pain flooded through Robert and his orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. He came across his own stomach with a broken moan, his vision blurring out for a moment. Flambae stroked him through it until it hit the point of overstimulation and Robert was pushing him away, his chest heaving. Robert could feel the small trickle of blood pooling in his collarbone.

He hadn’t even noticed Flambae was supporting his entire body weight until he tried to move and his legs crumpled. Flambae gripped him, keeping him upright, until he found his footing again. Maybe kneeling on the tile for such a long time hadn’t been his best idea. Robert braced a hand against Flambae’s chest until his breathing returned to normal pace and he could steal a glance at the hero. He hadn’t expected him to be staring back, his eyes uncertain.

“I’m sorry.” It was all Robert could manage to say, his voice small and still coming out raspy.

Flambae was frowning. “What the fuck are you sorry for, bitch?”

The familiar insults felt good. Felt like Robert hadn’t just fucked everything up. “All of that. We could’ve had a perfectly normal hook up but I went and made it a little weird.”

“Oh, that?” Flambae pulled at the roll of toilet paper, balling it up and offering it to Robert. He took it and cleaned himself up, the single ply not really doing a great job. “I liked it. All of it.”

Robert side eyed Flambae and sighed, opening the stall door and walking to the trash can. “You don’t have to-”

“Robbo, can you take two fucking seconds to climb out of whatever little shame spiral you’re throwing yourself into and listen to the words I am saying to you?” Flambae followed him out into the bathroom. He was still in Robert’s space. “I had a good fucking time. I mean that. I didn’t expect you to be so fucking good at taking dick and I did not expect you to be into being called a girl during sex but it’s whatever. I liked it and I had fun and if you could shut the fuck up and hear me, maybe we could do this again sometime.”

Robert’s ears were red, he could feel it. He could feel the embarrassment sitting in his gut, a stark change to the warmth he had felt there earlier. “I didn’t even know,” he said, so quiet he wasn’t even sure if Flambae could hear.

“What?” Flambae sounded genuinely shocked.

“I mean, I had considered it before but I’d never- no one ever-” Robert cut himself off before he said too much, his mouth shutting so fast that his teeth clicked. The silence hung between the two of them. Robert could see Flambae struggling to figure out if he should make a joke about the situation or if that would make things monumentally worse. To be honest, Robert couldn’t have answered that question himself. “I’ve only really talked about it with Visi.”

“You and Invisibitch? I totally thought you two went on one single movie date and never even fucked,” Flambae was so close, Robert could feel the warmth radiating off of him. It was kind of cold in the bathroom so he fought to not move himself even closer to the bigger man. “We all made fun of your dumb ass for it, I fucking remember it. Why do you even talk to her about your weird sex stuff?”

“It’s not a sex thing,” he said slowly. His entire self was screaming for him to shut the fuck up, if you say it to anyone else, you’re making it real. You’re going to make it real. “I’ve actually kind of been struggling with it for a while.”

“Not a sex thing?” Flambae repeated, his eyebrow raised and his expression unreadable. “Bitch, are you sure?”

“Shut the fuck up, I know what it looks like,” Robert’s tone turned bitter. “I shouldn’t even be saying any of this. Should have just kept shoving this shit down.”

Understanding flashed across Flambae’s face for a second and his expression turned softer. “Robert,” the full name usage surprised Robert, his eyes dragging up to meet Flambae’s. “You shouldn’t shove any of this shit down. Fucking especially not this. I’ve known people who ignored the feeling and they were fucking miserable for the rest of their lives. No offense but I can literally see how fucking miserable you already are so I don’t think you should be adding more things to that plate.”

Robert laughed, the sound coming out almost hollow. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it. Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Flambae’s hands rested on Robert’s waist. He was so fucking warm. “If this is really something you want, then do it. What the fuck is stopping you.”

Something twinged in Robert’s chest and he looked away. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”

Flambae shrugged, his hands leaving Robert’s waist. “We can talk about how we plan to get out of here. You look like a fucking mess, dude.”

Robert caught sight of himself in the mirror and his eyes went wide. His shirt was still wide open, falling down on one shoulder and showing off the scores of dark bruises lining both sides of his neck and snaking down one side of his chest. There was a clear bite mark on his shoulder, the blood pooled and drying tacky against his collarbone. You could very clearly tell there was a tooth missing in the bite mark. The eyeliner Visi had put him in before he’d gone into the bar was smudged under his eyes, tear tracks lining his cheeks. His hair was fucked and the buttons on his pants were still undone. He looked absolutely fucking wrecked.

“I looked like I got fucking mugged,” Robert said, leaning forward and examining the bite mark in the mirror.

“I don’t know what sort of sexy muggings you’ve been a part of Rob-bob,” Flambae said, unlocking his phone. Where the fuck did he get his phone. Where the fuck did he keep his phone? “But I need some fucking evidence.”

“Hey!” Robert was man-handled back against the sink and pushed up until he was sitting on the edge. He fell back against the mirror and Flambae raised the phone, the camera click making the blush creep up on Robert’s face again. “Flambae!”

“Fucking what? We look so hot right now,” Flambae took another one, this time pulling a pose in the mirror beside Robert. He flexed his bicep for a third, his smug face grinning at his own reflection. “Fucking get over it, it’s not like I’m gonna be sending it to anyone.”

“You better fucking not,” Robert grumbled, pulling himself back up off of the sink and turning around. He ran the water and splashed his face, rubbing at the eyeliner tracks. Just like he guessed, it came off pretty easy. “Last thing I need is getting my ass hauled off to HR. Although, these fucking hickeys might just get me a one way trip.”

“HR isn’t even fucking real, Robert, don’t even worry about that shit,” Flambae eyed up Robert’s chest and then fixed his gaze on his shoulder. “I’d worry about seeing if that shit needs stitches.”

Robert shrugged, slowly doing the buttons of his shirt up and following up with the buttons of his pants. “I doubt it. I’ve had worse.”

“Jesus Christ, I get it. You used to be some big superhero and you got in so many fights,” Flambae rolled his eyes. “I still think you’re just a regular ass normie. Won’t even fucking tell us which superhero. Surely it can’t be that bad. Maybe you were actually just a really shitty and not famous superhero and we wouldn’t even know who you were.”

Guilt twinged in Robert’s stomach and he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it back down. “Maybe. Guess you’ll never know.”

“Tch. Bitch.”

Flambae shouldered past him and out into the bar. The door swung open and Robert could see the patrons of the bar looking his way. His face flushed when he remembered what Sonar had said. Fuck, how long had they even been in there. He stepped back out into the bar, trying to keep his posture confident even as embarrassment flowed through him. He had already lost sight of Flambae but the bar was big. He’d probably already found his way back to Prism.

In his pocket, Robert’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out and saw it was a text from Flambae. Confused, he unlocked his phone and opened the message. He was immediately jump scared by the photos Flambae had taken of the two of them in the bathroom, followed by the fucking fire emoji. His eyes went wide and he heard a familiar noise beside him.

“Welcome back, nerd-oh my god,” Invisigal’s eyes were wider than his, leaning down to get a better look at his phone. “Fucking nice, dude, holy shit.”

Robert locked his phone quickly, shoving it back into his pocket. “Shut the fuck up. We do not speak of this ever again.”

Invisigal looked at him, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, man, never? You’re killing me.”

Robert groaned and looked toward the bar. He was feeling annoyingly sober.