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Robert didn’t make a habit of invading people’s privacy. Sure, he might be more tech-savvy than anyone else at SDN, but his hacking reroutes were strictly professional. Mostly.
So when Waterboy refused to answer his comms near the end of a shift, when things wound down and most of the team wasn’t listening to him anyways, Robert assumed the worst. Malevola telling him to fuck off when he wanted to dispatch her thirty minutes from the shift end was one thing. Waterboy? He was too eager to please. Although the system didn’t show him out of their zone, his complete silence despite Robert’s prompting was concerning.
To stay on the safe side, Robert accessed the camera closest to Waterboy’s location. Hopefully, the silence was nothing more sinister than Waterboy’s ear comm having slipped loose. In the background, he dispatched Coupe to save the damn cat from the tree — he’d intended to send Waterboy for the experience, but time was running out. He could handle Coupe’s disdain over being sent to deal with such a menial task later.
Camera feed whirring to life, Robert found Waterboy in headquarters, hunched over his lap. Ever so slowly he scrolled through his phone, too small for Robert to see from a distance. Score one for his lost comm theory.
“Waterboy,” Robert tried again. “Are your comms working?”
Silence. Robert squinted through the feed. The comm didn’t appear lost on the floor anywhere. Its location pinged inside of the headquarters, exactly where Waterboy was sitting.
Fuck, if the comms shorted out because of Waterboy’s powers, they were going to have one hell of a time deploying him to the field. Too much cost for too little reward. He’d hoped, at best, whatever Waterboy looked at on his phone was the real perpetrator. The distraction.
Robert cracked the channel to Waterboy’s phone open. Normally he wouldn’t, but if it was a distraction causing the issue, he wanted to shut it off and get the man to listen to him for thirty seconds.
What Robert wasn’t expecting to meet was a browser chalk full of tabs, all revolving around the same thing. Like the average self help section in a bookstore, the tabs were filled with titles of ridiculous articles: ‘10 Tips for Confidently Speaking’, ‘Easy Flirting for Easy Confidence’, ‘Confidence for the New Male: Women and Social Situations’.
Robert pulled a face. Sure, when he told Waterboy to work on his confidence, he’d meant it. But resorting to the internet led to some less than unsavory routes as the worsening titles of the articles showcased. Jumping straight to getting a girlfriend would lead to rejection, and rejection led to… well, Robert wasn’t going to go down that route. Neither was Waterboy if he could do anything about it. Dealing with Invisigal’s attitude was one thing, but no way in hell did Robert want a newly formed misogynist on the team after learning all the wrong lessons on the internet. Coupe would probably eat him alive for trying.
With a click of a button, Robert forcefully closed down over half the tabs with unsavory titles, and then hit another few for good measure. This included one the articles Waterboy was actively scrolling through. Through the camera, Waterboy jumped in confusion as his phone’s screen went wild in front of him.
His chance was finally open. Personal comm line on, Robert said, “Waterboy.”
“Mech— Robert!”
Finally, an answer. There went his destroyed comm theory. For the better though, he didn’t want to deal with the replacement paperwork. “If you’re going to use your phone during work hours, make sure it’s only during your resting downtime. You missed my instructions for you to deploy.”
“I’m— I’m so sorry! I wasn’t — I didn’t mean to—” Waterboy fumbled with his phone, tucking it in a pocket that looked half-filled with water. By the way Robert’s connection to its display fizzled out, he’d probably just killed his own phone.
“It’s fine, I handled it. Shift’s almost over, I just thought you should know.”
Hopefully that was the end of that.
Unfortunately, Robert’s life was never so easy.
He rubbed a hand across his face, lamenting the jeers in his ears. Their latest shift having ended, Prism and Waterboy were the last two to return to headquarters while everyone waited. For some godforsaken reason, Waterboy decided then was the perfect time to leave his comms on for everyone to hear his flirting. His blatant, atrocious flirting that consisted of complimenting Prism’s hair. By saying it looked like a tube of Neapolitan ice cream.
The fact he got the colors wrong wasn’t the worst part, it was that he followed it with saying he wanted to eat it in the world’s creepiest tone. Whatever that meant. The entire comm line roared with laughter at his failed attempt, Prism the most affronted. Robert sat silently throughout, but the banter continued well past their arrival to headquarters. He was forced to manually shut off their entire team’s comms to keep the worst at bay.
One hour. He’d give everyone one hour to clear out and then check on Waterboy. The other rarely left the building, and Robert had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where to find Waterboy hiding again.
Robert creaked the selfsame supply closet door open when lights began to go dark. Inside, Waterboy huddled in a bucket, soggy like a depressed, wet cat. He resisted the urge to sigh as he closed the door and clicked the light on. Sure, Waterboy was pathetic looking on most occasions, but he looked worse than usual.
Waterboy’s attention was on him in an instant, dripping more water to the floor. And probably into the bucket. At least he was trying to be considerate of his power. “Robert! I-I apologize. Again. I’m sorry for— y’know.”
“It’s fine, it happens. Better than you sneaking off to set a building on fire.” Robert settled into the twin bucket that had recently become his new pep-talk seat. Really, working with Waterboy was vastly more preferable to Flambae’s antics. He could forgive a little phone usage while on the clock. “How’s working on your confidence going?”
Waterboy teetered in his bucket, not expecting the question. “I— what?”
“Your confidence. I heard your conversation with Prism. Is that what you’re flirting with her was about?” Robert asked. He didn’t exactly want to tell Waterboy he’d been spying on his internet history, but the question was close enough. He just needed to make sure Waterboy wasn’t heading down any concerning avenues with what the articles suggested.
“N-No. I mean yes. Uhm. She’s — she is pretty.” Waterboy ducked his head, face flushed. That was a better sign than a fit over his rejection. “It was, uh, your advice. I thought… People. People are good for — for confidence, right?”
Considering confidence revolved almost entirely around people, at least Waterboy was catching on. Better than no attempts at all. “You’re asking if hitting on people if good for your self esteem?”
“Yes.”
Well, look at Waterboy go. One simple, confident answer. Maybe his plan might work for him. Robert gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“I’m not one to stop you, it’s not the worst idea. Maybe not with your coworkers, but it’s technically not an HR violation if they’re not in a higher position than you. And if they’re not taking it as harassment.” He really, really hoped no one took it as harassment so far. Mostly, they seemed to think it was a joke. Jokes were easier to deal with than HR violations. “What, you’ve never flirted with anyone before?”
Waterboy shrank in on himself further, gangly limbs struggling to fit into the bucket. Embarrassed.
Well fuck. He really hadn’t flirted before.
“I’ve— well, no, not really. I mean, I’ve thought, or, I guess I’ve seen on TV—”
“It’s a rowdy bunch on the team you’re looking at.” Flirting with any of them seemed like a death sentence. Waterboy, with no experience, was like throwing him to the wolves. Not that Robert thought he was going to succeed in any capacity, but was he entirely clueless to relationships? Anyone else would’ve recognized what a hurdle his team was. “Sorry if I’m overstepping my bounds, but have you even kissed someone before either? I think you’re going to get eaten alive otherwise.”
Waterboy froze. Then, water dripped from him like a flood, panic etched into his features. “Uh, no. No — I’ve considered — ah, no kissing. It can’t… it’s not difficult. Right? Everyone is so — I’ve heard it’s easy to — oh God, what if I’m a bad kisser?”
“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” reassured Robert. A sickly pale color settled on Waterboy’s face, water dribbling from his lips. Okay, maybe there would be a learning curve for him.
Robert grimaced at the idea of Waterboy kissing anyone. Malevola would probably eviscerate him on the spot. Coupe too. Invisigal would laugh her ass off. Helping Waterboy with his confidence was one thing, and his angle wasn’t a bad one to take, but they were veering towards HR violation territory outright.
Especially if Robert offered the idea pinging around in the back of his head.
“If I’m — if I’m terrible, no one will… what do I do? I can fake — like you said, caring is, y’know — I can fake my words. But kissing.” Waterboy hung his head, arms tight around his body like it might hide him from the overhead light. Softer, he added, “I don’t know how to kiss.”
“Well if you need practice, I can help.”
Robert winced. He didn’t mean to say that. Fuck, the things he did to help his team.
Waterboy’s head shot up, eyes wide behind his goggles. His suit squelched as he sat up as straight as he could. “Really?”
“Uh, sure, why not.” Why, why was he agreeing to this? “I don’t kiss and tell, you shouldn’t either. That way no one finds out you have no experience.” As if they couldn’t tell already. But maybe it’d be a score for Waterboy if he proved them all wrong. Hell, Robert had done that in a way, hadn’t he? He was nothing but a depowered loser to them, yet he’d gotten them to fall in line so far. “I mean, I don’t think flirting with the team is the best idea. But if you’re determined, I know how to kiss.”
Knowing how to kiss didn’t mean he was good at it. But he had more experience than Waterboy and that counted for something. Waterboy’s enthusiastic nod didn’t give him an out.
No time to overthink. Backtracking would only hurt Waterboy’s feelings. Robert carefully shifted forward, telegraphing every movement. Waterboy watched on, fingers digging into his own biceps. He looked as ready as to bolt as he was to kiss Robert. Hand pressed to the wall to steady himself, Robert leaned down, quick as lightning, for a chaste kiss.
Water flooded his mouth.
Robert’s balance went lopsided. He struggled to stay sitting on his own bucket, busy hacking up a lung as he inhaled on instinct. He hadn’t even opened his mouth for Christ’s sake, how the hell did Waterboy manage to spit so much past his lips? Through his coughs, hands rifled across his shoulders, fretting as they slapped his back like it might help.
“Sorry — I’m so sorry! I-I got too excited. It’s automatic, it just comes up!”
“Fine, it’s fine.” Robert blinked tears from his eyes, voice scratchy. It took another few coughs to steady his lungs. He wasn’t even sure if he managed to get his mouth on Waterboy’s before he nearly drowned. What the fuck? With a croak, he added, “Try not to do that again. Ready?”
Again, Waterboy nodded, words unable to escape without the threat of another gush of water. Robert withheld another grimace.
Second time, thankfully, was the charm. Robert hooked a hand to Waterboy’s shoulder for balance, head angling. Mouth firmly shut — no way was he letting the incident repeat — he pressed his lips to Waterboy’s. Contrary to his expectations, Waterboy’s lips were soft, not in the least sticky. Probably something to do with him being covered in water.
Firm pressure was enough for one, chaste kiss. Waterboy didn’t even kiss back, frozen in place with his mouth unmoving like one twitch would set Robert screaming for the hills. Knowing Waterboy, that might’ve been in his future. Robert huffed a laugh at his own thoughts, a muffled noise of confusion following from Waterboy.
Finally, Robert pulled away. Definitely the most awkward kiss he’d ever had, but not actually the worst. At least Waterboy hadn’t headbutt him trying to meet him in the middle. Or cracked their teeth together. High-school Robert definitely wasn’t the most suave, partly because he ran himself ragged trying to be a superhero. He ranked infinitely worse. Mostly, kissing Waterboy was like kissing a plank of wood. Or a wet diving board.
“You okay?” Robert risked asking, leaning away to take in Waterboy’s appearance. His face was flushed again, wet as always, but one of his gangly arms had looped down to cover his lap. He wiggled, trying to hide what was clearly an erection from the chastest kiss to ever happen, the fabric of his clothes squeaking in the process. Robert winced.
“Uhm, yes. Just. Very, uh.” Waterboy kicked a leg up. Then the other. The bucket rattled precariously beneath him, threatening to tip him over. Waterboy’s flush disappeared, replaced with white-knuckled alarm. “…I think I’m stuck.”
Robert resisted the urge to run a palm down his face.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered under his breath. Standing, he offered Waterboy a hand. “Okay, let’s get you out. And now you can say you’ve kissed someone and it went well.”
Dumbfounded, Waterboy stared at the hand offered. He blinked at it instead of removing himself from the circle of plastic he was stuck in, as if the whirring cogs in his head took most of his brainpower. “It did?”
No. First Waterboy spit up in his mouth and then got stuck in a bucket. Objectively, it did not go well. No way was he going to crush Waterboy by telling him that though. Robert shrugged. “Sure. I’ve dealt with worse. You’ll be on track in no time to being a good kisser.”
The corners of Waterboy’s mouth tilted up, a meek smile. Maybe, the lying was worth it. If anyone deserved a lie as part of a pep-talk, Waterboy did. Hand grasped in Waterboy’s own, Robert hauled the other to his feet after a brief bout of struggling. Someone else would have to deal with the amount of water that sloshed across the floor. Really, it was concerning how much water that had been slowly dripping from Waterboy.
Well, that was enough of a team-building exercise for Robert. And liable HR violations, but he already had at least three of those going on with Invisigal and Blonde Blazer already. What was one more?
“Robert,” Waterboy said, stopping him from cracking the door open. When Robert spared him a glance, his hands wrung together, avoiding his eyes. “If— You’ve shown me how to kiss. A little. But what if I want to be a good kisser?”
A brazen question. Bold. Robert floundered, caught off guard. Waterboy was being confident in asking him. And hell, wasn’t that the whole point?
Robert sent the other a grin. Everyone started somewhere. “Well, practice makes perfect there. And maybe don’t say you want to eat Prism’s hair next time.”