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“Robert… Robert Fucking Robertson. What name is it even? Fucking joke. He is a fucking joke. Son of a bitch…” A soft mutter escaped Flambae's lips as he pulled pieces of pasta from his hair and slapped the sauce from his face. His skin grew increasingly hot with anger, quickly turning the water into steam.
Even the mirror fogged up from the restroom’s temperature. Furious, unable to check if he'd cleaned everything, he wiped the surface with his forearm.
Besides his... not-so-clean face, he also saw behind him the man involved in this... mess. That fucking, dampy boy.
“What the hell do you want, Wet Pussy?” Flambae drawled, laughing at his own joke.
“That’s not my… hero name… Sir… It’s… I-It’s close… I mean…” Waterboy started pretty scared of even opening his mouth.
“Yeah yeah, Waterboy. I am not fucking stupid. Do I look stupid?” He turned to him pointing at his own… dirty from sauce face…
Without a word, the younger wiped his face with a clean, wet handkerchief, but when it began to burn in his hands, he recoiled. Flambae... wasn't very grateful for his help.
“No… No… of course no… I just…” He was practically shaking, trying to spit out whatever he had under that wet mane. “I wanted to… buy you dinner becauseithrowtotrashyoursdinnerandiamreallysorryaboutit” He said it really fast, just to get over it.
“Wait wait wait. Slow down, you wet mess.” Flambae himself looked lost, not catching all the words Waterboy had blurted out, and then spat water out to the side out of stress. “Did I… Did I hear correctly? You want to buy me dinner?” Suddenly his attitude changed. It wasn't such a bad idea, actually; he was hungry... and he couldn't bear to spend more money.
“Y-yeah… exactly. I… I have some… money to… spend and…” He started to speak, but Flambae patted him on the back several times, hard... almost painfully. Waterboy's lean, wet body shuddered.
"Tell you what we'll do. I know a fine place. We'll go there with my car, you pay for everything, and we'll be even. How does that sound, boy?" Flambae smiled, revealing the empty space where his missing tooth was.
“It sounds like… buying you dinner” Waterboy replied not really sure, even if the answer was very simple.
“Yeah, and drink. You can’t eat without something to hydrate this fire throat, I will tell ya”
Flambae checked his condition in the mirror one last time, smiling at himself, this time without showing his teeth. He still felt a sort of complex about losing it. "Fire. That's what I am," He said to himself.
"W-what did you say?" The younger one asked, thinking it was directed at him.
"I told you not to ask stupid questions, Wet Rubbish. Head to the parking lot."
They both walked some distance apart to the parking lot. They didn't seem particularly eager to walk arm in arm. Was it because of the opposing elements... or maybe the fact that Waterboy sometimes threw up so much water, and Flambae didn't want to be in range...
When they left the SDN building, Flambae spotted his car... He almost immediately caught fire.
"I think I'm going to get fucked." After a moment, he faded away, truly resigned. This day... This fucking day. Or rather, the last few days. Fuck, he could be a dick, but it doesn't pay off to be a dick.
"Is that... Is that your car?" Waterboy asked timidly, taking two steps back. For his own safety and peace of mind.
"Not fucking Robertson's." He growled under his breath, staring at the warped car hood. As if someone had been fucking on it. Someone very heavy.
"Oh... Too bad, Robert didn't deserve it..." The janitor immediately turned sad.
"I was fucking lying. It's MY fucking car." A small… flame burned out from his arm… Waterboy got a little closer and put it out with his wet hand.
“That’s… also shame. But… But you know, we can get… bus! I always take a bus…!” He tried to lighten up the mood.
“A bus? Do you expect ME to take a bus?” Flambae barked out to Waterboy.
“I mean…” He looked at him in a bigger picture. Broad shoulders... plus he was quite tall... And... well... And that window on his chest… “It depends how many people will be on the bus! It’s not like rush hour so… w-we might be lucky!”
Flambae didn't even have the strength to yell at him. Today... It was just too much... Then he remembered his therapist's words. Not that he shouldn't take it out on his coworkers because his insurance wouldn't cover more third-degree burns... She said something else.
“Push your limits, Flambae. You're at the top of the leaderboard. With determination, you can achieve anything, no matter what. Like becoming a better person, a hero, a great uncle... or…” He suddenly picked up Waterboy.
"You know what, I have a better idea than a bus." He chuckled to himself and began using his abilities to levitate.
"...I... I really don't want to upset you or anything... I trust you'll be alright and all that... s-simply... Do... Do you have a license? A license to fly?" Waterboy tried not to look down, not wanting to know how far they were from the concrete of the parking lot.
"A certain wise and inspiring woman told me to reach for what seems impossible..." Flambae said proudly.
"Illegal and impossible are two different things... hah."
"Shut your mouth or I'll drop you." Flambae grinned at him. He wasn’t joking.
"S-sorry... she's a very wise woman."
[...]
The bar wasn't... not exactly Flambae's style, or rather, it wasn't how Waterboy imagined it... He'd rather see him in some bar full of bikers. Men he was simply... afraid of. He didn't fit in, after all. He was... unmanly, even though his grandma always told him he was a handsome bachelor!
And this... where they were... It was nice and colorful... Pink LEDs, a gentle mist from the machines, waiters and waitresses dressed in casual clothes, as if they didn't even work there. Pronounce and colors on their name tags… Flambae greeted them like... good friends. Just... strange, for him.
"I told you we'd get there, and we did." He smiled, involuntarily revealing a missing tooth that fit perfectly on the straw he put in his mouth to sip a little while waiting for his food.
“Ye-yeah… we did…” He was looking around, pretty much amazed by the place. It was… so friendly. They were silent for a long moment. Flambee seemed very comfortable in the silence, listening to the soft pop music and humming it to himself.
The younger watched Flambae… lost. It felt strange when Flambee wasn't shouting at him, making fun of him...
"H-how... How did you lose a tooth?" he asked suddenly, the question having been nagging at him ever since he'd noticed its absence in the restroom.
The former villain looked at him as if offended, immediately assuming... Yeah, he probably thinks he lost it like some cunt. He got beat up... and he'd be right...
"Probably... You know, during one of the missions. You're at the very top of the leaderboard... You must be... really good. I mean... I wish I could be like that... Once I joined the Z-Team... Robert... He said... he'd like me to join..." He mumbled a bit shyly, unsure how to start the conversation about them actually being... teammates.
Seeing the lack of ill intent in Waterboy's question, Flambae just laughed to himself to relieve himself...
"Yeah, actually, yeah. You know, about that tooth. I was rescuing... hostages back then and... suddenly I got punched in the teeth, but the adrenaline hit me just like that guy. I didn't realize I had it until an hour later," the Afghan laughed, proud of himself, or rather... his made-up story.
"O-oh wow... That... I'd love to see that... someday." He tried to keep up with the conversation.
"And you'll see, since you're joining us." He raised his bushy eyebrows.”You must be a piece of work that they took you to a team full of villains.”
Waterboy blushed slightly at these words, taking them as praise.
When the food finally arrived, Flambae ate rather quickly, eagerly, clearly hungry after a day of work and running back and forth as Dispatcher had instructed him... By the time they finally left the pub, it was already dark. Flambae was enjoying the cooler air, gazing up at the sky.
Waterboy found it hard to look away... and he told himself it was because he probably wouldn't see him this... calm for a long time. But suddenly, the older man spoke up.
"I'll take you... home. You know, so you don't have to spend on a bus ticket," Flambae muttered after a moment of thought.
"Oh... by the way, what will happen to your car?" he asked, feeling more confident after that evening.
"I don't know, I'll go to Blond Blazer tomorrow and tell him some idiot messed up my car... and then Royd will probably take care of it. I don't even want to think about it." He started rubbing his forehead, clearly nervous about the car. “Maybe Prism will take my ass on her way to the office. We will see.”
"That was... a nice car," Waterboy began... trying to cheer him up somehow…
“Yeah… I just sprayed it with my sister's husband. And we hit that flaming phoenix on the hood... my niece's idea. Fucking cool..." He nodded to himself at the thought. After a moment, he looked back at the younger man. "Yeah, it's late."
He put on his glasses, then... much more gently and less abruptly, picked up Waterboy... bridal style.
After a few minutes, they arrived at the address the younger man had given. Flambae landed and set him down on the sidewalk.
"So yeah..." Flambae scratched the back of his neck.
"That was... really nice... I mean, I hope you're not mad at me about the noodles I threw away and..."
"Nah, I already forgot," the Afghan smiled at him, trying to reassure him. But before Waterboy could say anything, "If you tell anyone, I'll fucking kill you. But... that was fun, Wet Boy."
After that, he almost immediately flew back to his destination, and... Waterboy watched the flying silhouette... even as it disappeared from the sky.
He entered the house as quietly as he could, but Grandma still heard him.
"Who was that?" She shouted from the living room.
"A friend... from work." He smiled to himself, then felt the water flooding him again... This time warmer and nicer...