Chapter Text
Golem stood in his path and Chad wanted to fucking tear through him. He let his palms flare; a snarl pulling at his lips that Golem seemed completely unfazed by. Malevola doused him with a careless splash of water and Chad was reminded of that night when Mecha Man… no, Robert— knocked his tooth clean out. It wasn't fucking fair. This shit wasn't fucking fair. The Z-Team was supposed to be on his side, why didn't they understand what Mecha Man— Robert did to him. An agitated growl left his throat and he was quick to make an escape so he wouldn't have to hear the laughing from the rest of the team. Of course they’d laugh, like always, when he already felt like shit.
By the time he reached his apartment he was a live wire. His hands burned with impatient heat, the urge to release it driving him up a wall. It would be so easy to find something to obliterate, light it up, and pretend the flames could dissipate the fury inside him. He ruminated on the idea of finding Robert's car and lighting it ablaze like he did the last dispatcher's, but when he turned to reach for his doorknob, his hand hovered over it but didn't connect. He glared down at the doorknob, noting that the residual heat from his hand was starting to turn it molten red. Chad bared his teeth and kicked the door with all his might, putting a solid hole in the bottom.
Why the fuck was he hesitating? What did it matter if he torched that bastard’s car? He could even watch Robert wake up in the morning and see that his car was nothing but a charred lump in the street. The thought should have made him grin, but his mouth stayed put. He wanted it and he didn’t, both truths sitting in his chest like his own unbearable flames. He spun around, looking away from the door and tearing his fingers through his hair. Something was fucking wrong with him. He loved fire. He loved the small, vicious joy of watching things melt and people flinch. This should've been easy. Yet he was hesitating.
“Jodidamente ridículo,” he snapped, stalking into the kitchenette and slamming both palms onto the expensive marble. He leaned against the counter, staring at the ground hard like it would somehow give him all the answers. He could’ve killed Robert tonight, he knew it, and he would’ve savored it. What made him second-guess himself was how subdued Robert had been when Chad rounded on him. There was no fight, he looked as though he had already accepted his fate. Killing someone who didn’t fight back left a sour taste in his mouth and he despised it.
A knock at the door yanked him out of his trance and his skin prickled. Only the team had this address, and he seriously doubted any of them planned on coming to cheer him up after his display. He manifested a small flame in one hand while the other twisted the knob and threw open the door. A portal flared before his eyes, blinding him for a heartbeat and snuffing his flame. He shielded his face in time to see Robert, of all people, step through one of Malevola’s gates. Flambae watched the man incredulously, an unbearable heat starting back up in his palms.
“I should fucking kill you,” he hissed, not because he meant it, per say, but saying it made the heat in his palms feel like control. “You’re on my turf, bitch.” His tone was threatening, but he felt anything but. It wasn't often he felt small in the face of someone who had no powers, but Robert had some strange effect on him. Ever since he found him working out, nearly killing himself under weight that he couldn't possibly lift. The man had thanked him and asked him to be his spot again.
"Can I at least come inside first, maybe share a drink?" Robert's voice was velvety smooth and low, gravelly around the edges in a way that Chad secretly enjoyed. He held up a bottle of brandy, something way too expensive for the dispatcher in front of him. Chad eyed it suspiciously.
"Did you steal that from the bar?" He asked, curious more than anything, still blocking the way into his apartment, "thought you were too much of a bitch to do something like that."
"Amazing the things you can do while starting a bar fight in a villain club," Robert retorted, earning an unbidden snort from Flambae. The air was charged between them, something left unsaid that neither of them were willing to breach just yet. He wasn't sure if he liked it, or if it was good for them to even explore it. But after a tense moment, Chad relented, taking a step back so Robert could squeeze inside. As he closed the door, Malevola's portal flickered out with a wink.
"So you, what— wrenched my address out of one of those idiotas? Convinced Malevola to whip up a portal here just to have a drink?” He tried to keep his scoff light, mocking, “because Invisigal would’ve died to get her hands on you and that bottle. She’d probably fuck you on the spot if you looked at her twice.”
He meant to goad Robert, to poke fun at the way Invisigal was clearly trying to get into his pants. But his jealousy that poked through was molten like the flames he wielded, woven through every syllable he uttered. And when Robert turned to look at him, eyebrows quirked and a smug little smirk on his face, Chad's stomach twisted into knots. He heard it, of course he fucking did.
His jealousy was unwarranted, stupid, and reckless. Flambae did not like to mix work and leisure, things got too messy, too quick. He never fucked anyone on the Z-Team and he planned to keep it that way. And from what he'd seen of Robert, the man was as straight as a well-crafted arrow. It wasn't difficult to see the furtive glances from Blonde Blazer when she thought no one was looking, or the blatant way Invisigal would just stare at his ass when he walked. He may not be book smart like Sonar was, but he knew body language and attraction like the back of his hand, despite Invisibitch thinking she was subtle.
So he expected Robert to put the rumors to rest, to finally admit that he was fucking Invisigal. Blonde Blazer was too tame for someone like Mecha Man, that much, Flambae knew. Just from watching him he could tell the man was looking for some kind of excitement in his life. But not the kind Chad could offer.
Instead, Robert looked him up and down slowly. Not in a hungry way that voiced arousal, but in amusement. Like he was amused by how Chad was acting. The look made his jaw clamp closed and for at least the fifth time that night, his palms heated up.
"What?" He barked. "You think I'm joking? You think this is funny?"
Robert's laugh was rich and deep, like the brandy he carried in his hand. And in any other circumstance, Chad would have something to say about it. It was too nasally, or too stupid. But right now, nothing came to mind besides the fact that Robert was here. In his apartment.
Robert lifted his hands in mock defeat, though his smirk didn't fade. Chad clenched his teeth hard, reminding himself of the tooth missing in the front, and did his best to steel himself. "I think," he said conversationally, "you're jealous." The sentence, while simple, hit harder than any super-powered punch could, stealing all the breath from his lungs. He'd trained years to control his flames, but this was something he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried. How others reacted and responded to him. How much like when the team laughed at him, he just felt the urge to escape.
"Jealous?" He sneered, gaze piercing the man before he puffed his chest out. "Of what? Invisibitch? Please. She can have you; you're two bitches in a pod. Couldn't dream of a better match."
Robert made his way to the kitchen with slow, agonizing steps and Flambae's eyes tracked him like a predator sizing up its prey. The air was suffocating, though Chad couldn't tell if it was the heat radiating off him or the heat between them. Shockingly, it wasn't hostile like it usual was, but a tension as taut as a bowstring drawn back to its limit, just waiting to snap.
"If I wanted Courtney," he started, words dragging across Chad's skin, "I wouldn't be here." The confession sunk in, claws latching onto Flambae and refusing to release. Robert already had two women practically drooling over him for his attention and he had seemed none the wiser. And yet he was here, speaking in a sultry tone to the one man who should hate his fucking guts. "So why do you care who I have a drink with?"
A sudden realization struck him out of nowhere. He stood there, dumbfounded in his own damn apartment, eyes drilling holes into the man in across from him. Robert had noticed the way Blonde Blazer and Vizi drooled over him. He was more observant and intelligent than Chad gave him credit for. Not that the bar was set high for someone like Mecha Man.
Robert wasn't interested in either of them.
And as the man wrapped his fingers around the crystal stopper of the brandy bottle, it became painfully obvious who Robert had his eyes on this entire time. Chad cursed under his breath which earned a soft, satisfied chuckle from Robert that sent a small shiver down his spine. Robert tipped the bottle back to take a greedy swig before he offered it to him. An invitation wrapped up all neat in a thick glass bottle. He refused to let this affect him; refused to let Robert win. Though the forming erection in his skin-tight suit was bound to betray him. It left nothing to the imagination, as was designed. Still, he clung to a single, stubborn thought.
He could still come out on top.
"I knew it," he finally uttered as he sidled up to the counter, leaning against it to hide his half-hard cock and planting both hands firmly on the cold marble, "I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on you. I guess the heat got to be too much for you, ay? No te preocupes, cariño, happens all the time." Despite the fact that his voice had grown smug to match the predatory grin on his features, on the inside he was arguing with himself. Robert was still Mecha Man. He chopped off two of his fingers and he was the reason that he lost a tooth. It didn't matter that his dick was trying to think before his brain, this was not going to work out no matter which way he sliced it. Work and pleasure mixed together made a bitter cocktail, one that Flambae promised himself he wouldn't indulge in.
But that was before Robert joined, before Chad got a look at his stupid, sullen face, the interesting bullet scar adorning his ear, and his wry humor that seemed to even get a chuckle or two out of Punch Up. The man looked like he'd lived a thousand lives when he arrived, and that he was ready for this one to be over as well. Flambae wasn't often intrigued by depressed types, but Robert had wriggled his way into his brain and refused to budge. Even when Chad tried to get him to quit, even when the bitch threw a protein shake directly at his head.
He should've known after he agreed to be his spot that he was starting to get in too deep. The fact that Robert genuinely showed him appreciation should've tipped him off but he'd been a blind idiot. Blind to the fact that under all his own aggression and insults, he was attracted to this ordinary, dull jackass.
"'You knew it'?" Robert's tone shifted, catching him off guard as he focused back in to see he had cocked his hip out with a single raised eyebrow. The way he spoke, like steel wrapped in velvet, was so fucking sexy. His cock jumped at the words, pressing uncomfortably against his suit and causing Chad to cross his arms in front of him on the counter. "Is that why you tried to kill me tonight, Flambae? Is that your way of courting? Melting my face off? Don't make me laugh. You had no idea, just say it."
Where the hell did this side of Robert come from? Chad was eating it up, his blood long since having traveled south to remind him of his arousal due to this man. Robert demanded his attention, dark eyes like a void when he stared into them. And Chad wanted nothing more than to give him exactly what he desired, consequences be damned.
"You cut off my fingers, it's a natural reaction," Flambae retorted, clinging onto the last shreds of his resolve like a clingy child with their mother.
"Right," Robert hummed and set the brandy down with a rather loud clank that startled Chad out of his trance. He'd been staring, intensely, the entire time, and Robert was eating it up. He thrived on Chad's undivided attention, made apparent by the smug smirk that had refused to budge for the past few minutes. To think he assumed Robert was just a stupid little normie typing away on his computer while the real heroes did all the work. After spending an aggravating amount of time with the fucker, Chad could now say with certainty; he was impressed.
And that didn't usually happen. No one had ever tried to play Flambae before, at least not successfully. Yet Robert led him like a naive sheep away from its flock to be slaughtered. He'd been waiting patiently to get Chad alone, get him talking, to slip up and make a mistake. To admit that he felt something towards him, even a little bit. Thoughts raced through his head to try and fix this somehow. To turn it to his favor instead of Robert's. But with an erection pressing against the constricting fabric of his suit, begging to be touched, and the way the other man dragged his tongue pointedly over his lips would be his breaking point. Robert leaned against the counter casually, those molten eyes locked onto him, studying him like some kind of art exhibit, searching for something.
"Well I guess if you don't feel the same way—" Robert groaned, the sound passing his lips sinfully and causing Chad to straighten up unconsciously, "—then I'll just leave you to your empty apartment. I'm taking the brandy though." He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Chad's nostrils flared, fiery eyes darting down like a pathetically starving man to where Robert's SDN shirt was untucked. It rode up because it was one size too small, hugging his frame in a way that Flambae had noticed multiple times during his time in-person with the dispatcher. It was a small sliver of skin, nothing outrageous; it wasn't like Robert was unbuttoning his pants to show him his cock— but it was enough. Suddenly, he was skirting around the edge of the counter, nearly taking a spill when his foot caught on one of his stools. He cursed in a low voice before he wrapped his hand tightly around Robert's bicep.
Chad let out a low noise somewhere between a growl and a moan as he realized he could wrap his entire hand around the man's bicep without issue. Fuck, he was tiny. As he yanked Robert back, he registered just how much bigger he was in comparison. Like a toothpick versus an entire tree trunk. He towered over the man, at least two heads higher, and Flambae smugly used it to his advantage. Robert had his back against the wall and Chad swiftly boxed him in with both arms, smirking down at him. He needed this. The stark reality of it hit him hard, causing his eyes to widen slightly and hand to clench into a fist. He didn't just want Robert. He needed him.
He needed him now.
The thought of spreading him out over his bed, to see the contrast of his pale skin against his dark sheets, to find every spot on his body that made him fucking squirm and teasing him until he begged Chad to stop. He would catalogue every single spot in his head and then when the little bitch returned to him, because he would, Flambae would do it all over again. And then not even Robert's pleas would get him to stop, because he just knew the man sounded so fucking good in bed.
Robert’s laugh caught him off guard, and Chad faltered—just for a heartbeat. No. No. Flambae snapped his head up sharply, gaze cutting through the room as though expecting someone to leap out of his coat closet. This had to be a prank. Heat flared under his skin, and fury threatened to unravel him. He started to pull away, because if he stayed a second longer, he might actually incinerate the man and get written up. Or worse. But fingers knotted into the front of his suit with a surprising amount of force and yanked him back towards Robert.
Flambae’s glare was a knife, honed and ready to draw blood if Robert even attempted to speak. But he only smiled, smoothing one hand down the parted fabric of Flambae’s outfit, fingers drifting slowly. wickedly, over the trail of hair below his belly button and disappearing beneath the lower half of his suit.
"You pinned me, smartass. Are you just gonna leave me here?" Robert goaded with one brow raised, and Chad couldn't miss the breathless sound of his voice even if he wanted. The look shared between them could light the entire apartment on fire even if Flambae didn't have his power. Robert seemed confident, his posture practically oozing it, but there was a subtle tremor to his body. And the blush adorning his cheeks up to his ears was like staring straight at the gates of heaven. He did want this.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Robbie?" Flamebae questioned, using one hand to grab some of the man's hair and pin his head back against the wall while grinning with just a bit too many teeth.
"So many things," the honest answer pulled an unwitting snort from Chad and Robert grinned back at him, "—want to fuck them out of me?"
There was no going back after this.
Things would never be normal between them after this.
This could ruin him, ruin Robert, and ruin their thinly veiled attraction to one another they'd been tiptoeing around with insults and threats of violence.
"Fuck it."