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When he saw Flambae in the bar, the assessing gaze went first. Robert liked what he saw for about 5 seconds before the guy opened his mouth to antagonize him. Then he liked him even more, because we all know that Robert likes fiery brunettes.
And sure, it was aggravating, and it took him a second to remember one of many villains he's busted in his career, but still. If he were limiting his dating pool to people he hasn't busted, his history would be slim.
And the tension made for great sex.
So, Robert is pretty ok with the aggression. Too bad nothing happened, but it was entertaining.
Now, though, he gets to work with the guy. And the aggressive flirting clearly wasn't just for Mecha Man, and Robert... simply can't help himself.
Flambae is charming in a way you find a big, sassy asshole cat charming. He shows off. Bats things off the table, metaphorically speaking. Comes closer only to back up within one breath.
Come on, asking about his "date" then saying Robert isn't his type with that breathy little exhale?
Robert is utterly charmed. It's just his type of affection, banter, and physicality.
Cue the dispatcher beginning his pursuit in earnest. He flirts a lot more openly. Assigns Flambae to shitty calls that get the man to the headquarters drenched in sweat and with his hair out of that perfect ponytail, pointedly sends him a limited edition Mecha Man figure with an autograph for his niece after hearing Prism and Flambae complain that it's her favorite superhero.
He steals bites of Flambae's food and gives it the most heartfelt compliment he's ever given any meal. That shit was delicious.
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Chase noticed Robert’s intentions pretty early on. The man is the furthest thing from subtle, and, most importantly, Chase taught him everything he knew. Now, granted, Chase never tried to … chase… men, but the notion holds, ok!?
So he does know what Robert looks like when he’s smitten. He’s seen it plenty of times when the kid was younger, and especially when he became a teenager. But he’s never seen him so doggedly pursuing someone before. Probably because the idiot fucked off to chase his daddy’s dreams before he could even properly live, but … water under the bridge.
What wasn’t water, though, was in fact the furthest thing away from it, and was the subject of Robert’s attention: the firestarter. Why did it have to be that flaming asshole? Out of the entire cohort of shitstains that made up the team, why did it have to be the most aggravating one?
Chase had heard plenty about the fire asshole’s sexcapades while he helped to cover for numerous dispatchers who quit on the team before. Is it any surprise that he doesn’t want his brother trying to tap that? Hell, if Robert was just trying to tap it, he wouldn’t even mind that much.
But
But
Robert has that same look in his eyes that Robbie had when he was running after his wife. Smitten, concentrated, diligent. Robertsons love hard. And fall even harder.
Chase tries to grill Robert on his choices. Tries to persuade him to change his attention to anyone else, hell, he’ll take him dogging after Blonde Blazer, WaterBoy, even!
But…
“Can’t do it, Chase. Didn’t choose it, but I still would, even if I could make it conscious. He’s just too much like what I want.”
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Robert is very far from subtle.
Flambae, somehow, still hasn't caught on.
Robert is staring at this dumb, dumb himbo of a man and sighs in fond exasperation as he assigns him to an elementary school talent show. His niece is performing, it's not like he's gonna make the flamester miss it.
He also remembers that Flambae has his niece this weekend and that the little girl loves almonds, so he buys a can of atrocious blueberry-covered ones and leaves it in the man's locker. She’ll get a laugh out of those.
The dispatcher knows Flambae’s takeout order by heart, so when he witnesses one of the janitors throw away his container in the lunch room, it’s without a backward thought that he orders a new one to be delivered fresh.
He thumbs a text at the man, with a reminder to grab his niece’s jacket from the school lost and found, because the school called their office by mistake before reaching out to Flambae himself. Deletes it.
When Robert is in the care aisle in the grocery store, his fingers grab a bottle of mouthwash he’s seen the other use repeatedly at the gym’s locker room. Hesitates and puts it back.
Robert can remember a lot of little things about Flambae.
He remembers how the other man laughed when he flirted over comms, and how he brushed off Robert’s more and more hesitant offers of dates. How many guys has Flambae been talking about on the lines when the team is shooting the shit in between calls?
With a sigh, Robert taps the mouthwash back into place.
Maybe he should put those memories into a neat little aisle in his mind and walk away from them as well…
Robert is a gentleman, or at least he tries to be. He knows that he and Chad had some good chemistry, but just like with Blonde Blazer and Phenomaman, he knows when to bow out.
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Robert over here has accepted the fact that he has to have some unrequited love. Flambae is… so clearly uninterested. He’s bragging about who he’s bringing home, how much ass he’s pulling, all his hookups. And it is unprofessional on public come, but the team has pulled worse, and Robert isn’t going to be a stickler for the rules now.
Only when Mal comes by on her rest, she has to stop, pause, pivot, and head straight for Prism. Because the face that Robert is making as he’s sitting at his desk, Flambae’s voice in their headsets talking about this and that is … devastating.
His voice is steady as he quips back, his back is straight, but his fingers are white as they’re gripping the desk, and she hasn’t seen or felt this level of emotional hurt from somebody in a very long time.
"Babes, you gotta pull Flambae aside now. Cause if you don’t, I will. And it won’t be pretty, she tells the singer after finding her in the lounge.
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Maybe Robert should put his memories and thoughts into a neat little aisle in his mind and walk away from them as well…
At some point, after your advances are brushed off with the continued persistence like Robert’s are, one has to re-evaluate and pivot. Right? That’s what normal people do, right? They let go?
Too baaad
Robert pivots, alright. Just, on his heel - to spin around, straighten his BLUE jacket, drag a hand over his hair, slip on a smile, and his dead-eyed stare. To look at other possibilities.
He tried being upfront. He tried being overt. He tried getting Flambae gifts, telling him outright that he likes him, that he wanted to take him out to dinner, sent him out on calls that suited him best, and accommodated his wish to be a part of his niece’s life throughout his workday.
It didn’t work. But Robert was still charmed. And Flambae was still who he chose to set his sights on. Robertsons, am I right? Love hard, fall harder.
There is a stone wall of realization that Flambae was dumber than a bag of bricks when it came to recognizing when Robert was flirting with him. If he had to hear Flambae talk about another boy-toy he took home or let take him home, he was going to bite somebody’s limb off. And hell, maybe that would cement it for the flamester, but he’ll leave that for the last resort.
For now?
Pivoting. To do or die.
Robert Robertson III gathered himself one last time, exhaled like he was about to take a shot of vodka, and walked over to the breakroom where Flambae was sprawled on the sofa with Prism and Mal, waiting for the shift to start.
“Oh shit,” muttered the women, shifting to look at Robert, who marched towards them with what looked like murder written on his face.
“Bae, what did you do??”
“I didn’t do shit, what are you talking about? I’m perfect”, questions the brunet, having missed Robert’s deathmarch to them.
He stops and stares when their dispatcher approaches, kneels in front of the pyrokinetic, and cages him with his arms. Prism shuffles as far away as she can while pulling out her phone to point at them. She is not conspicuous about it. Mal opens a portal and shooshes Coupe, Punch Up, and Sonar, who gape at them from the other side.
“W-wha-”
“Flambae. I’ve tried everything but this. So, if you’re gonna say no, then do it straight to my face. But I am gonna say my piece.” Starts Robert, gaining steam as he goes.
“I like you. Since the bar. You’re an amazing hero. You’re kind. You’re attentive. You’re a great leader of the team. I like that you love your niece, slip Beef diet treats, and straighten out Waterboy’s fighting style even though you don’t need to. You care so much about everyone,” declares Robert with the same voice he uses to dispatch them towards certain death. Feels like he’s doing that to himself right now, honestly.
“I like you, and I want to date you. I want to help you be a better hero, climb the ranks, and show everyone how fucking good you are. I want to wake up next to you. I want you to make that delicious lamb and rice thing you made so I can tell you that it’s the best fucking thing I’ve eaten in my entire life.” Do or die, Robert.
“What do you say?”
Choice A - Yes
The silence hung in the air like a noose around a deadman's neck. Robert stared at Flambae, who was looking down at him with the most stunned expression he's ever seen on the man. And he watched him through surveillance when that sorceress turned an elephant in the zoo into a pink bubblegum balloon.
Just Robert's luck that his shoddy knees chose that moment to creak as Robert straightened up a little bit, his fingers clutching at the other's leg.
Fortunately, Mecha Man had no shame; the Z Team knew this. Otherwise, he didn't think it would have been as easy to fold himself down on the ground in front of the flamester and beg to be taken seriously. To be taken and kept.
Shameless behavior, really.
Though he supposed, necessary, given the situation.
One minute stretched into 2 and the steel Robert had in his spine started melting. His body lowered back to sit on his heels, and the dispatcher let his hand slide off of Flambae's leg. Who still hasn't moved or said anything.
Guess that was his answer, huh...
"Ok then. I'm not sorry I asked," firmly stated Robert.
"I do like you, and I just wanted to get things out in the open. Not stupid though, so ..."
"W-wait bitch! Robbo- Robert! Wait!" scrumbled Flambae, unfreezing at once and pitching forward like his strings had been cut.
Robert could only wheeze as 200 pounds of muscle and spandex fell on him. His knees and back were seizing in protest. He didn't even notice, hands wrapping around the other man automatically and steadying him, staring into eyes that had little embers dancing in them.
Flambae's head is smoking.
"It's a yes, of course it's a fucking yes! Take me! I'll make you kabuli pulao every fucking day, Mecha Bitch" yelled the bombastic man as he frantically patted Robert down, seemingly lost in what to do with his hands.
Robert gazed back in amazement.
"You're fucking stupid," he wheezed when hands clutched at his collar and pulled the shorter man in.
"Yeah, but you still begged on your knees for me. So you like me stupid," argues Flambae, thumping his forehead to Robert's
"I just like you, period. You're just too much of what I want," he breathed, "And sometimes you gotta beg for what you want on your knees because it's too stupid to take hints."
Choice B - No
The silence stretches. One minute flows into two, and the bunched-up nerves that have made up the steel in Robert's some are failing.
Flambae won't look at him. Or rather, he looked at Robert once when he started and then hasn't since.
A self-deprecating smile replaces the one that Robert had moments ago. His hand slides from the other man's leg with one final pat.
"Ok. That's a no then, huh?" He asks gently, leaning in a little too just be able to glance at Flambae's face. The minuscule shake of the other's head is all he gets
Robert sighs.
Leans back and sits on his hunches, fists curled loosely on his lap.
"That's alright, Flambae. I just wanted to get a clear answer from you. You're under no obligation, and I'll keep it professional. You won't hear about this again," softly adds Robert, groaning under his breath as his knees creak upon movement. His eyes slide over to Prism's astonished face and Malevola's gaping one. Glance over the three in the portal.
"Not from them or from me. Understood." It is not phrased like a question.
Robert stands up and looks at the man who will probably hold his heart, regardless of whether he wants it or not, for a long while still.
"Hey"
Burning sunlight looks up at him if only for a moment, and Robert allows himself a smile he hadn't let onto his face in decades. Honey brown eyes crinkle.
" I'm still not sorry I asked. Better to know, yeah?" He ponders for a second.
" Don't worry, nothing will change. And if you want to put in an HR complaint, I understand, and I'll follow what they tell me. And what you want. Take the day, I'll make sure you get paid for the shift." Finished the dispatcher before leaving the break room.
Robert allows himself a choked little inhale as he steps outside, deliberately turning away from the scene unfolding behind him
He doesn't need to know how much his team will make fun of him at the wake of being rejected; he's sure to hear about it on the comms, warning be damned.
"Fell hard, huh, Robertson?" he exhales, certain that only Galen will hear him. And it's not like that man will judge.
He swipes a hand over his eyes and goes to his cubicle. That's a cup of coffee waiting for him, along with a Twinkie.
The clock strikes 9.
"Alright, team. Let's have a good shift."