Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like Sonar had never been with a woman before. He got so much pussy. Practically swimming in the stuff. It was because he was so suave and charismatic and an alpha male, obviously, that no woman could resist him. Okay, sure, maybe sometimes a financial transaction was involved, but that was a negligible detail.

The point was… Sonar tried to wrangle their thoughts as the pulsing bar music and drunken haze caused the half-empty glass in front of them to waver. The point was…..

He sighed dejectedly and let his shoulders slump. “…I think I might be bi.”

Malevola hadn’t been talking, but Sonar could hear her train of thought make an emergency stop as a new track clunked into place. He buried his snout in his drink and pointedly stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.

“Dude,” she said eventually. “Where did that come from?”

Sonar drained their glass in one go, and felt no better for it. Where had it come from? His thoughts strayed back to Robert, as they so often did. He wondered what colour his eyes were. Probably brown. He seemed like a basic, brown eyes, brunet kind of guy. Completely average-looking in every way, as he kept telling himself. Sure, he had a voice that could melt butter, and was scarily competent in like a super hot way, and was the first person since Malevola who had actually believed in Sonar—believed he actually had potential, believed he was more than a monster, believed he could really become a hero one day—but… where had he been going with this?

“Oh, mate, you’ve got it bad,” said Malevola, sliding them another drink, which they drained half of immediately. “Who is it?”

Sonar felt his ears pull back in embarrassment as he hunched over the table further. He sighed, “You’re gonna make fun of me…”

His friend grinned, sipping from her own glass. “Oh yeah, obviously. What else are friends for?” She sobered suddenly. “It’s not Flambae is it? ‘Cos mate, I know you’re desperate, but you can do so much better than–“

“S’not Flambae,” he mumbled.

“Good. Are you gonna tell me who it is? Or are we playing a guessing game.” She made a show of peering around the bar, her gaze landing on a group of less-than-charming men at a nearby table. “Is it…”

“It’s Robert.”

Malevola’s eyes widened, and she barked a laugh. “You’re joking. Fucking–?” she thought for a few moments, then admitted, “Alright, he does have a nice voice.”

“His voice is so hot…” Sonar groaned, laying his head on the table. It smelled sour and their fur stuck to the wood, but they were too drunk and miserable to care.

Malevola patted him on the back, sighing. “I know I’d be a dick for laughing at you, but fuck you make it hard. You look like a depressed dog.”

“Malevolaaaaa…”

“Alright, alright,” she conceded, scratching behind their ear. It felt good, but he wished it was Robert. “How long has this been going on?”

It shouldn’t have been a difficult question, but Sonar wasn’t known for his emotional awareness.

It probably started when he first met Robert. He’d been eavesdropping, obviously; it was hard not to when you had super hearing, plus he was nosy. It was always fun listening to a Visi temper tantrum, so long as it wasn’t directed at him. And he liked to be informed: it was good to have the first scoop on what broke their newest boss’s back, or however the saying went.

But then Robert bit back. And he bit back hard. And, sure, he ended up on the floor with a bloody nose, but he put up more of a fight than any of their previous dispatchers—and Sonar was… impressed, they thought. At the time, he’d chalked it up to grudging respect towards this apparently powerless little guy who could chew out a dangerous criminal without flinching. That must’ve been the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Also, he was Mechaman, which was pretty cool.

In hindsight, the reason Sonar had started trying harder on missions, eating in the break room more often, and making small talk with their boss was probably not because of professional respect. It was probably more because he wanted to feel his tongue down their throat.

The thing was, Robert never shot him down. Sure, he was their boss, it made sense that he’d be at least professionally polite to them—but this was not a normal working environment. He was in charge of a team of partially-reformed supervillains. The dispatchers weren’t supposed to be nice to them! They weren’t supposed to… to tell them they did a good job, or give them pep talks, or… talk to them like a person, when everyone else treated them like an asset at best and a dubiously-defused bomb at worst.

The truth was, as much as people liked to pretend otherwise, Sonar looked different, and he was treated differently. He’d thought he was used to it, especially after meeting Mal and making a friend who’d had the same experiences, but Robert was the first person of authority to actually treat him like everyone else, rather than just say that’s what he was doing. Apparently, Sonar had low standards.

Sonar hiccuped. “‘S… nice to me,” he said in answer.

Malevola sighed. “Dude. That’s kinda pathetic.”

“I know,” he mumbled, sitting up just enough to sip his drink.

“Like, you’re down bad bad.”

His ears drooped. “I knowwww…”

The demon sipped her own drink thoughtfully. “Are you sure this isn’t just ‘cos he didn’t fire you? Maybe you’ll get over it.”

Yeah, right. The literal thing they were here to celebrate.

If Sonar was being honest, they’d fully expected to be the one getting fired. Nobody could say he had a low self esteem, but he wasn’t stupid (he’d gone to Harvard, after all). Falling for Coop’s booby trap (heh) admittedly wasn’t his proudest moment, but in his defence he was under a lot of stress and boobs had never failed him before. After Visi’s big win which probably guaranteed her a spot on the team, he’d figured it was between him and Coop; and in that case, the one getting cut was probably the one who’d activated their distress signal before their shift even started.

He’d been waiting restlessly in an empty cubicle for the other shoe to drop, feeling disproportionately torn up about it. It wasn’t like he needed the job: he had a good stock portfolio, plus crypto was really taking off. And yet, faced with the prospect of being kicked from the Phoenix Program, he was terrified. He’d still have Malevola, and he might still see the rest of the team from time to time (not that they were friends, per se, but… whatever, they were decent company)—but he wouldn’t be a hero anymore. That was the part that had them at work after sunset pacing a hole through the carpet.

Sonar knew his worth. Obviously. He was a Harvard graduate, he was the smartest guy on the team, he could turn into a giant monster—he had a lot of skills! The giant monster thing put a lot of people off, which was shitty, but what did they know? Sure, he couldn’t always control the transformations, but he was getting a lot better at keeping a level head when they happened, which might as well be the same thing (and Robert had noticed his improvement, and acknowledged it once when they were talking over lunch. He’d even smiled when he’d said it).

Despite all of that, Robert’s speech about potential had stuck in their mind. He’d never admit it, but he wanted to live up to what his dispatcher saw in him, and the thought of going back to villainy just hadn’t appealed anymore. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be a good person. And so soon after this revelation, he was going to lose his chance. And they’d have to look Robert in the eye as he let them go.

Then there had been a crash of breaking glass and for a few seconds the entire floor had been revealed to Sonar in stark detail: Coupé, glaring at Robert with an expression of cold fury; her dagger, embedded in the table an inch from his folded hands, still vibrating; the dispatcher’s frankly impressive mask of cold detachment as he met the assassin’s gaze.

The glass had hit the floor, and the scene had disappeared, save for the soft sound of Coop’s increasingly distant wingbeats. Robert had sighed, and for one beautiful moment Sonar had witnessed the cool, serious expression they were used to soften into something defeated and tired and shockingly vulnerable.

Coupé had been fired. Coupé was fired. Sonar’s heartbeat had sped up. Coupé had been cut from the team—meaning Sonar was staying. Robert had chosen to keep him.

Sonar had peered over the wall of the cubicle, ears straining. Robert had been too far away for them to see his face, but they’d seen the smudge of his head turn in their direction. Involuntarily, Sonar’s ears had perked up and his fur stood on end under the weight of his gaze.

He’d ducked back down, realising his heart was beating worryingly fast. That had been happening a lot lately—but who cared about that now?! Robert had kept him on the team! Robert thought they were worth something! Robert wanted him around! Sonar’s heart had skipped a beat at that last thought. There was proof that someone not only tolerated him, but chose him over someone else. It had felt… good.

It felt really good!

Sonar had realised he was grinning like an idiot, which was weird for him. And his palms had been sweating, which was completely out of character. His mind hadn’t stopped straying back to Robert’s expression: professional stoicism slipping to reveal resigned guilt and sadness. They’d wondered what his smile looked like. They’d wondered if he would ever smile at them.

He’d frozen.

Oh, shit.

Sonar chugged the rest of his glass and burped. “I don’t… think so.” He contemplated his empty glass briefly, then started to stand to get another. He was still thinking about Robert, which meant he was too sober.

His friend caught his arm and pulled him back down easily. “Nope. This is an important conversation and you are going to remember it in the morning.”

Sonar’s snout wrinkled. “Can we skip the part where you give me romance advice ‘n go straight to the part where I get blackout drunk to cope with the heartbreak?”

Malevola slung an arm around their shoulder and pulled them into a half-hug. “No, because then we’d skip the bit where you snog our boss, and I reckon you’ll want to be there for that part.” She ruffled his hair. “Just ask him out, mate. Worst he can do is say no.”

“Worst he c’n do is call HR.”

The demon scoffed. “Since when has that scared you?”

“Since I realised we can get fired. ‘M at the bottom of the leaderboard; ‘sgot no reason to keep me.”

“And yet, you’re still in the team. That says something, doesn’t it?”

“Says he likes me,” Sonar said begrudgingly. “‘N he might stop ‘f he thinks I’m a creep.”

Malevola raised her eyebrows. “First off, he already knows you’re a creep, dude; he’s the one that called the locksmith. Second, the bar’s already pretty low for the Z-team and I don’t think knowing you have a crush on him will put him off if knowing you’re a literal criminal didn’t. And third, Visi’s been eyeing him up recently and I reckon it’s not long before she makes a move. Oh, that’s got your attention!”

Sonar’s ears had pricked all the way back up. “Visi? Seriously? How d’you know?!”

“God, you’re either denser than I thought or insanely tunnel visioned. She’s been following him around and blatantly flirting for days.” She cringed slightly, and made a so-so motion. “Honestly kinda creepy. I’d say you’ve got a better shot.”

The bat frowned thoughtfully. “I’m way hotter than Visi.”

Malevola patted them on the chest, grinning. “Exactlyyyy. There’s my bat boy! Shoot your shot before she steals your man.”

Sonar nodded to themself. Yeah. Yeah, he had this! They’d feel worse if Visi asked him out first and they never got to find out if they had a chance. It didn’t make his heart pound any less, but it did light a fire under his ass, which was how he got most things done. He had this.

Sonar had been acting weird lately.

It wasn’t something Robert would usually notice, but he’d been paying more attention to him recently what with the leaderboard and the cutting. The bat hybrid had really been stepping up his game, even before Blazer announced they’d be cutting someone, and Robert was actually pretty proud of him for that. It was a new feeling: all light and fluttery, so unlike the heaviness that had weighed him down since his father’s death. Plus, it seemed like Sonar was starting to warm up to him; they’d started making conversation with him in the break room, and they didn’t join in when everyone else was teasing him. Small things, but hey, it was an improvement.

And then there was this. The dead mouse he’d found on his desk this morning, with a post-it-note reading ‘Thanks for not firing me’ in barely legible cursive. It was… well, gross, yeah, but also… kind of endearing? In a weird way? If it had been from anyone else he’d think it was a prank, but he’d seen Sonar eat these things all the time, so he was left to assume it was a genuine gift. Like a well-meaning cat leaving its owner a dead bird. He smiled to himself. Cute.

(He had to throw the mouse away, of course, but he stuck the note to his penholder. Right under Coupé’s dagger. It did ease the guilt somewhat.)

Robert booted up the computer, bracing himself, and… yeah, great, porn on full blast. It was embarrassing, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting pushback. Honestly, this was way more lighthearted than he’d expected—but hey, the day was still young. And that evil look Punch Up sent him did not bode well. Neither did Invisigal’s staring from across the office. There was no time to unpack any of that, though, because he still had a job to do.

He sighed, putting his headphones on. “Good morning team. I know you’re all missing Coop, but we still have an important job to do. I’m talking to you, Punch Up.” This was met with annoyed grumbling from the man in question, so he could be sure this wasn’t the last he’d hear of it. Still, the corner of his lips twitched upward. “And thanks for the dead mouse, Sonar. I assume that was from you.”

“Yeah, uh, it was. No prob. Heh, no prob Bob. Thanks for… keeping me on the team.”

Robert smiled.

Malevola gave a long, deep sigh. “Dude. Seriously?”

“What?”

“When do the mice ever work?!”

“You’ve gotta trust the process!”

A notification went off on the computer screen. “Okay, I would love to unpack whatever’s going on here, but there’s a hostage situation at the bank right now. We need someone to negotiate and someone else as backup in case it turns violent.”

“On it, Bobert!” Sonar said before Robert could even call on him.

The demon sighed, still sounding exasperated as she replied, “Yeah, I’m on my way. I need to talk to Sonar anyway.”

“Ooooooh, bat boy’s in trouble!” Prism crowed.

Robert kicked himself away from his desk, grunting as he stretched his arms above his head, spinning slowly. Today had been a good day, he told himself, all things considered. Other than Punch Up, who left early, everyone seemed to be working hard today, Sonar in particular; he supposed Blonde Blazer was right about the effect the cut would have on the team, although it still didn’t totally sit right with him.

He watched another late worker a few cubicles over smile at what he assumed was her husband, who’d come with their presumed child to pick her up. He sighed. That was what a family was supposed to look like.

There was a whine by his feet, and Robert looked down to see Beef holding a ball and looking up at him sadly. He smiled despite himself as he stood up to let him outside, tossing the ball up and down and watching the dog chase it. It wasn’t like he was completely alone. Look at him, breaking the cycle of abuse and actually playing with his child. Father of the year…

He let Beef do his business then ambled back inside, remembering that he hadn’t shut down his computer. It was getting late, but it wasn’t like he had anything to get to. He felt the familiar empty hole in his chest open up once more, in the absence of something to fill it. It was time to get back to his shitty, empty apartment, and watch the clock for eight hours until he could get back to work.

He reached his cubicle and saw the notification that Invisigal had left her coverage area. It was almost definitely nothing: she’d actually been well behaved all day. Or at least, she’d been doing her job well. He thought back to their conversation that morning as his finger hovered over the mouse, and his face heated. He was alone in the office, and there was no way he was getting out of it this time. What would he say to her? Did he want to reject her? It wasn’t so much about the HR violation—god knew that situation couldn’t get worse than it already was—as it was that a relationship with Visi sounded… messy, to say the least. He liked her, sure, and it seemed like she was really putting the work in to redeem herself—but she wasn’t there yet. Right now it didn’t seem like a relationship with her would be good for either of them. Then again, he’d been having fun so far, hadn’t he?

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and he grabbed it quickly, grateful for the distraction. It was a message from Blazer:

‘You still at the office?’

Then another, immediately following it:

‘Up for a late dinner?’

Huh. That was… not entirely unexpected, and yet somehow still surprising. It was nice to see that he hadn’t completely misread his interactions with her. Then again, she’d only broken up with her boyfriend a week ago. Was he just a rebound, or had she become interested in him before the breakup? Was that better or worse? Would it be messed up to go on a date with her knowing that? Was he overthinking it and it actually didn’t matter because it was literally just a first date?

Robert worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He did like Blazer, and it wasn’t like he had anything else going on…

There was a sudden sharp shriek, causing him to nearly drop his phone. Sonar? What was he still doing here?

He made his way to the break room, following the sound. He found Sonar standing in front of the closed fridge like it was a mirror, adjusting their tie. One ear twitched to face Robert, and the bat man paused.

“Working late?” the dispatcher asked, crossing his arms.

Sonar smiled almost sheepishly, which seemed out of character. He leaned his shoulder against the fridge and shot Robert a pair of finger guns.

“Heyyy, Bobert. How’s it going?”

Robert raised an eyebrow and copied his stance, leaning against the door frame. “It’s going well; good shift today.” Without his input, his mouth quirked upwards. “You’ve really been improving lately. I’m proud of you.”

Now, Robert was not yet well-versed in bat body language. However, if he was to hazard a guess, he’d figure when their ears pricked up so high they almost touched, and their eyes widened momentarily before deliberately settling into what they probably thought was a nonchalant expression—he figured it wasn’t a bad thing. Huh. Interesting.

“I bet you say that to everyone.” Sonar smirked, completely failing to look unaffected.

Robert shrugged. “Sure. I’m proud of all of you, because you’re all improving. It’s not hard to be a better person than a supervillain.” One ear flicked. Disappointment? “But you especially have really been putting the work in this past week; I hope it’s not just because you’re scared I’ll fire you.”

Sonar scoffed. “Scared? Of you, Bobert? Please.” An ear twitched in… annoyance? Nervousness?

Oh, right. Here was a chance to test something that had been niggling at him for weeks. Eyes narrowing, Robert stood and walked towards the hero slowly. They straightened.

He stopped a few feet away, peering up at the taller man, watching him squirm and enjoying it a little too much. “You know, don’t you?”

Crossing his arms, Sonar met his gaze. “Gonna have to be more specific, Rob.”

“Well, you were here when me and Visi were arguing on my first day, you have super hearing, and you’re incredibly nosy. I’m left with one conclusion.”

An ear twitched again. “Ohhh, right. That.” They smiled again, slightly sharper and less sheepish, as their voice lowered conspiratorially. “The thing about you being Mechaman?”

Yeah, he’d thought so. Robert let his face sink into the professionally stern expression he’d been practising so much lately. “I hope you know you cannot tell anyone about this.”

Sonar raised his hands defensively. “Don’t even worry about it, Robert; my lips are sealed.” Grinning crookedly, he closed one fist and cocked his little finger. “Pinky swear.”

Robert fought down a matching smile as he raised his own pinky. “Pinky swear.”

As he touched his finger to Sonar’s, he could swear he heard a tiny chirp. Did bats do that? Fuck, that was adorable.

He stepped back, and Sonar made an aborted move to do—what? To grab his hand, or touch his shoulder, or something. They tried unsuccessfully to cover it by scratching the back of their neck. His ears drooped down in what Robert thought was embarrassment.

The hero looked everywhere except Robert’s face. He wondered if they were close enough to see his expression, or if turning their head away was purely performative. “So, uh… I’m assuming, since you’re still at the office at seven o’clock at night… you haven’t got any plans for the evening?”

The retired hero raised his eyebrows. No fucking way. Was there something in the air today? Was that it? Why did this keep happening to him?

He tilted his head to one side, considering. “I could say the same thing to you. Do you have any plans for tonight?”

Sonar’s ears snapped back up alertly as his gaze returned to Robert’s face, before quickly sliding away again. He’d never noticed before, but this close he could see his pale grey pupils, blown wide and unfocused.

“I was thinking of going out for coffee, or something?” It was phrased like a statement, but ended in an uncertain, hopeful lilt that turned into a question. The implied invitation hung heavy in the air.

“A little late for coffee, no?”

Sonar fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be coffee. It could be, like, tea, or– or dinner, or, you know, whatever. If– If you wanted to, I mean. It’s cool if you don’t, obviously, I was just offering, in case– you know. In case.”

Robert felt a tiny part of his cold heart melt, just a little bit.

The fact that he was bisexual was not a recent revelation, nor had it been a particularly dramatic one. He’d figured out that he probably wasn’t completely straight when he was a teenager, but at the time he’d had more important things to worry about. Anyway, he’d given up trying to maintain romantic relationships a while ago: he’d had a few girlfriends in high school, but they’d all ended in pretty messy breakups. Yeah, being Mechaman kind of took over his life.

The point was that he’d known, theoretically, that he was into men. However, up until now it had been at the back of his mind, like all of his other repressed emotions. Now that he was being forced to confront it…

Sonar was kind of cute.

Okay, he could be a jackass sometimes—a lot of the time, if he was being honest—but that had always struck Robert as performative. There were a few occasions when the mask had slipped and he was sure they were being genuine: like when they were having lunch in the break room, and they talked with him like they were sincerely interested in what he had to say, never even hinting at his secret identity or teasing him for not having superpowers. It was a small, casual thing, but it really helped get him through the day. Robert liked the way Sonar acted when they were alone together, awkward and unserious. He decided that, if this was the real him, he wanted to see more of it.

“I’d love to.”

Sonar’s eyes widened. “Actually?”

The dispatcher felt his lips curve into a lopsided smile. “Yeah, a hot drink sounds good right now. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

There was a beat of silence as Sonar adjusted to this apparently unexpected direction of conversation. “I’m gonna be so real, I did not expect to get this far.”

That got a laugh out of Robert, to both of their surprise. Fuck, how long had it been since he’d hung out with someone outside of work? He’d forgotten that other people could be fun.

Sonar smiled relievedly. “I think there’s a dog-friendly café near here.”

“Sounds good dude. Meet you back here in a second? I need to go shut down my computer.”

‘Dude’?! Fuck, he’s out of practice.

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be waiting here, man,” Sonar replied, still wearing that dreamy, disbelieving smile.

Robert hesitated when he got to the computer, seeing the notification about Visi still there. Then he dismissed it. He wasn’t on the clock anymore, so Visi’s business was her business. He felt slightly more guilty texting Blazer that he was sorry, but he already had plans (not mentioning that he’d made those plans after seeing her text).

Then, he picked up his dog and went to meet up with his date.

Chapter Text

Sonar hadn’t actually expected Robert to agree to go on a date with him. Asking him out had just been a way to get it over with so he could stop thinking about him—he hadn’t let himself consider what he would do if the guy said yes! They’d thought he was straight! Still, he hadn’t graduated Harvard without some improv skills, and ended up suggesting a coffee date, which he had, for whatever reason, agreed to.

It was going… really well, actually. Better than Sonar had dared to hope. It wasn’t some soulmate movie romance, it was just… nice. They talked a lot, about nothing in particular. He learned that Robert’s favourite colour was blue (go figure), and that he’d barely graduated high school; they told him about their parents’ divorce and their cat that had run away. Beef plodded along excitedly beside them the entire time, adding occasional input in the form of high pitched yaps and yips.

By the time they reached the café, Sonar could not believe he’d managed to bag this date. Something had to go wrong soon.

“So I know you eat mice,” Robert said, leaning against the counter as they awaited their orders, “but can you have, you know, human food as well?”

Sonar chirped, mostly because the café was basically silent at this time of night and he couldn’t “see” much, but partially because he was happy. The closest things to dates that they’d been on before were drunken conversations with women they’d met at a bar, and those people generally weren’t very tactful. They either pretended he was a normal person, avoiding looking at his face and awkwardly tiptoeing around the elephant in the room; or they were way too comfortable asking invasive questions. He liked the way Robert did it: blunt, casual, the same way he said everything else. He was finding that he liked a lot of things about Robert.

“Yeah, I can eat normal food; I just need a lot more meat than most people. Mostly I can eat human stuff and bat stuff, which is convenient for me since I’m pretty sure chocolate is poisonous to bats and I fucking love chocolate.” An ear twitched in annoyance. “I’m allergic to tree nuts though, which sucks.”

“Why choose to eat mice then?” said Robert, gesturing incredulously. “Do you just like the taste?”

Sonar shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, man; they satisfy my primal urges for chewy, crunchy animals.” They grinned. “It’s like eating a kiwi with bones.”

That got a chuckle from his date(!!!). It was quiet, but loud enough that the sound waves showed his face clearly: his lopsided little grin, his half-closed eyes, his tiny head shake. Okay, goddamn, Malevola had been right. He was down atrocious.

“That’s fucking gross,” said Robert, still smiling.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, Bobby,” Sonar said, winking. They scratched the back of their wrist absentmindedly. “What did you do with the one I gave you?”

“I hope I wasn’t supposed to eat it. I threw it out immediately.” Robert rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… kept the note, though. Thanks for that. It made me feel better about letting Coop go.”

Sonar chirped again, this time involuntarily and a bit too loudly (he needed to get that under control). Holy shit, the mouse had actually worked. Get fucked, Mal!

The last few sound waves caught one corner of Robert’s smile lifting a little higher. “What’s up with the chirping, by the way? I mean, it is adorable, don’t get me wrong, but is it– uh, are you okay?”

This last was said with concern as Sonar’s scratching continued to grow in intensity. Shit. Fuck! They could already feel the hair on their arms growing even as their nails became thicker and sharper.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! God fucking damn it! It had been going so well!

“Fine. Yeah,” he replied tightly, voice already noticeably lower. “I just– I gotta– I’ll be outside.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before running through the door and ducking into the alley beside the café. He sank to the ground, back against the wall, breathing heavily. Fuck.

They gave up resisting and allowed the transformation to happen. The itching that now covered his entire body suddenly intensified to burning as course fur shot out of his skin. At the same time, his bones swelled and deformed and strained at his skin, which stretched like so much rubber. Ropes of muscle writhed beneath it, thickening quickly to accommodate his growing size. Finally, there was a series of stabbing pains down the length of both arms as the fine bones of their wings pushed through.

Eventually, after less than a minute, Sonar was left hunched over in the alleyway, alone and aching. The transformation always hurt more the more he resisted, which is why he usually just let it happen—but the date had been going so well! Robert had called him adorable, and not even in a condescending way! It seemed that every time things started going well for him, this fucking curse had to rear its ugly head and knock everything back into the shitter.

He may have curled into a ball and whimpered a little. Whatever, there was nobody there and his gums were still aching from where a new set of teeth had just made an entrance. He was allowed a moment of vulnerability.

What now? Was there a polite way to cancel a date because you’d turned into a monster? It wasn’t like they could go back into the café looking like this. Should he just leave and text Robert to apologise later? How the fuck were they supposed to look him in the eyes at work the next day?!

Quiet footsteps approaching the alleyway made his ears prick up. He recognised that gait.

“Hey man,” Robert said softly, stopping a safe distance away. “You feeling better?”

Sonar snorted humourlessly. “No.” Did he sound like he was sulking? Yes: he was.

They could hear the smile in Robert’s voice as he asked, “Would a large latte and a brownie help?”

Both of Sonar’s ears swivelled to face him as he finally raised his head. His vision was even worse in this form, but he could see the glow of the streetlamp illuminating Robert’s outline like a halo. He squeaked, and saw that one hand was outstretched to him, holding a closed cup and a paper bag. Mystified, he took them carefully in one oversized hand.

“Thank you,” they said, mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed. “Look, I am so sorry about this. I can’t always control when it happens, and I really didn’t– I was really trying–“ I really wanted this date to go well for a change. God he needed to stop talking.

“It’s okay, Sonar,” Robert said, and it really sounded like he meant it. “Trust me, I’ve had worse first dates.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Sonar, but he felt slightly less miserable now. He took a bite out of his brownie, and that also made him feel significantly better. They let out a contented rumble.

“Oh man, you’ve got no idea. One time I broke my nose and arm being Mechaman the night before, and because I was a shithead teenager I obviously didn’t have a good excuse planned. She left early, and I found out later she was convinced I was in a gang.”

Sonar giggled in that ugly squeaking-snorting way this form had. “One time I transformed mid-nut.”

Robert fully laughed at that—like an actual belly laugh. It was adorable. “Okay, I think you win that one. I never got that far on a first date.”

The bat monster cringed. “We-ell, I wouldn’t call it a date. More like a… financial transaction.”

A beat of silence as Robert processed that. “Jesus Christ. I hope you tipped well.”

“Oh, she drained me dry.”

A huff of air as Robert exhaled, a gulp as he swallowed a mouthful of his drink (hot chocolate with marshmallows). If there was one thing Sonar hated about this form it was—well, it was the fact that it always came up at the worst times, but if there was another thing he hated about it, it was the fact that he couldn’t see shit. He was short-sighted normally, sure, but like this he was colour blind on top of that. He had to rely almost completely on echolocation, which admittedly was way stronger, but it wasn’t the same; especially not in quiet moments like this, when a sudden loud noise could ruin everything.

They squeaked to get their bearings, then unthinkingly placed one hand on Robert’s hair. He purred. Soft.

A much smaller hand touched his thumb. “What’s this about?”

Sonar squeaked and went to pull his hand back, but Robert held on—not tightly, but firmly.

“Sorry– sorry, I should’ve asked, I just… it’s hard to see you, like this, and I wasn’t thinking…” and he still wasn’t, because holy shit they were basically holding hands right now.

Then, Robert shifted his grip, and their fingers interlaced, and Sonar realised this was the first time he’d held hands with a romantic partner since college because now he was purring embarrassingly loud.

“Is this– okay, I was gonna ask if this was okay, but I’m gonna assume that’s a yes.”

“Fuck off,” Sonar growled, ears drooping with embarrassment. He was still purring, which kind of defeated the point.

Robert was standing so close by now that it took every inch of Sonar’s rational thought to hold back the urge to pull him close and wrap him in their wings and never let go. He could feel the warmth radiating from his body. But he had already pushed his luck dangerously far and he really didn’t want to ruin this.

Unless…

Sonar leaned closer. “How do you feel about flying?”

“Dude. I’m Mechaman? I literally have rocket boots.”

“How do you feel about riding on my back?”

There was a pause just long enough for Sonar to realise how that sounded. “Usually I save that kind of stuff for at least the second date,” Robert said.

“Come on, Bobert,” Sonar whined. “Do you want to spend the rest of this date in a dirty alley? I can take you somewhere nice.”

The other man squeezed his hand. “Swear you won’t drop me? Or Beef?”

Sonar chirruped in delight, wings flaring out in anticipation. “I swear.”

***

Flying with Sonar wasn’t quite as romantic as flying with Blonde Blazer.

For one thing, they couldn’t hold onto him because they needed their arms to fly, so it wasn’t as intimate and Robert had to put some work in himself. Also, it didn’t help that he was holding onto two drinks, a brownie and a small dog, leaving him to cling to his back with his knees and elbows.

However, there was one bonus: he was fluffy. Like, so soft. Robert had to lie down to keep his balance, leaving his face resting in the thick mane of fur around Sonar’s neck, and honestly if they weren’t in midair he might have fallen asleep. He smelled of cheap aftershave and… apparently the same brand of flea shampoo he used on Beef. Honestly, it was better than body odour, so Robert had no complaints. Plus it got cold this high up, and he was basically lying in a thick fleece.

It didn’t last long, which was good because although Beef had been content to sit still for the whole flight, Robert didn’t know what he’d do if he started wriggling. Sonar touched down on a rooftop not far from the docks, higher than all the buildings around it. It was a nice place: they were close enough to the sea to hear the murmur of the waves, and high enough up that he couldn’t see the people on the streets below, just the red lights of cars flitting back and forth, and the golden glow of apartment windows. The rooftop was dimly lit by the bat’s crimson eyes.

He wondered what Sonar saw. Their vision was worse in this form, he knew, but much more light sensitive. Could he see the headlights from up here? Or did the world look empty, too high up to see the streets with echolocation? Robert figured the ocean sounded soothing, at least.

He slid off of Sonar, keeping one hand on him so he knew where he was, and set Beef down. The rooftop was edged by a wall thst reached chest height, so he wasn’t worried about the dog hurting himself. He leaned back slightly against Sonar’s side, reasoning that it was cold and the bat hybrid didn’t seem to mind, and took a sip of his drink, which was still warm.

Robert could feel the muscly ribs beneath him rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. It was soothing. He felt… content.

To his disappointment, Sonar shifted away from him to sit down, yawning massively. Wow, his teeth were huge. Robert felt his face heat. He was learning a lot about himself tonight.

He sat on the ground beside them, close enough to feel their warmth but far enough away not to impose. He took the ball out of his pocket and tossed it for Beef a few times, watching the little guy bounce back and forth across the rooftop.

“So, is this like an office building? Or are we on top of someone’s apartment right now?”

Sonar paused. “That’s, uh, a good question, for which I have no answer.”

Robert snorted. “Let’s hope no one comes up here. I don’t know how I’d even begin to explain this.”

The bat was silent for a few seconds, then made an odd warbling, grumbling sound that made Robert glance back at him, concerned.

Sonar wasn’t looking at him, but an ear was cocked attentively in his direction. “Robert, are you… you’re not, like… ashamed to be seen with me, right?”

Robert blinked. “Oh boy, we’re at that part of the night already, huh?”

The bat’s ears drooped, and he scowled. “Sorry. Forget I asked.”

Shit. “No, wait, that’s not– I didn’t mean it like that.” He shifted closer, tentatively. “I just meant—of course I’m not ashamed to be with you! You’re my… friend. Maybe more, if this goes well.” He felt his cheeks turn red as Sonar’s ears pricked back up, and powered onwards quickly, “Anyone who thinks worse of me for being with you isn’t someone whose opinion I care about.” Impulsively, Robert reached up to cup the bat’s face, and was rewarded with a low purr that reverberated through his whole body, Sonar’s glowing eyes drooping into half-moons, dimming considerably. “Understand?” he added, barely above a whisper.

They hummed in response, pressing their face into his hand, making Robert bite his lip to keep from cooing out loud. He shifted his hand to scratch behind their ear, to which the low croon intensified to a whine, still overlayed with the sound of purring. Intrigued by the noise, Beef plodded over to investigate. He situated himself in Sonar’s lap, pleased with his new massage chair. Suddenly, Robert felt a large hand cup his back; he tensed instinctively, but didn’t pull away. Apparently taking this as an invitation, Sonar shifted, and in one swift motion pulled Robert towards him and wrapped him in his leathery wings, as if swaddling a baby.

“Woah, okay,” he said, startled but not entirely opposed. “Uh, you comfortable, batboner?”

Sonar chuckled, a sort of squeaky, snuffly sound that made it incredibly difficult to feign annoyance. He rested his chin on Robert’s head, huffing contentedly. “Never better, Bobert,” he rumbled.

Robert was too cozy to complain any more. It was a cold night, okay? And he didn’t have a coat. Sonar was warm and soft, and it had admittedly been a very long time since his last experience with prolonged physical contact. Their muscly frame held him tightly, a touch possessively, but if Robert was being honest with himself, that felt really good.

Before that night, he had never had cause to imagine what a date with Sonar would look like, but if asked he probably would’ve said a night at a bar followed by messy, drunk sex. He definitely wouldn’t have said anything close to “pleasant conversation over coffee leading to an awkward heart-to-heart followed by cuddling on a rooftop”. He definitely wouldn’t have expected an actual good date.

Now that Robert thought about it, wrapped in his warm, fuzzy, vibrating blanket of a date, it made sense. This was the first time he’d gone out with someone who he didn’t have to hide from. Sonar knew him—the real him. There was no need to hide his scars or come up with excuses for his long absences when he needed to be Mechaman, and that made him feel… complicated. It was a good thing, he was sure, but at the same time it felt a little like walking across a battlefield without armour: nobody was shooting yet, and the only people nearby were on his side anyway, so there was no reason for anyone to hurt him, but a single slip-up could be fatal. He was happy, excited, yet terrified at the same time. Still, in the present moment, if he forced his overthinking mind to turn away from thoughts of the future, Robert felt more at peace than he had for as long as he could remember.

He huffed, tiredly amused. God, he was pathetic. Sonar warbled comfortingly and held him closer, to which he couldn’t help but smile.

It was peaceful. The distant lull of the ocean, just on the edge of hearing, the closer rumble of Sonar’s purring, undulating in and out with each deep breath. The warmth of his body heat, and his thick, insulating fur, shielding Robert from the cold outside air. The pressure

of the bat’s body on all sides, like a weighted blanket… it was all… so…

***

Robert awoke to the feeling of something shifting beneath him. The air on his face was cold, which wasn’t unusual (since he didn’t like to waste money on heating) but he was lying on something warm and soft, which definitely was.

“Morning, Boberto. Sleep well?”

He groaned and turned his face instinctively into the warmth. “S’no way this’s morning,” he mumbled.

Something blew warm air into his hair, and the surface beneath his head shook. “Damn, I really wish Mal could see this right now; you look fucking adorable. But also, it’s cold and my back hurts, and Malevola will literally murder me if I miss curfew.”

“Mmnh?” Robert grunted as he reluctantly lifted his head. He was definitely outside, and it was definitely still dark. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted, and finally made out the glistening white fangs and eyes inches from his face.

His face flushed, mind clearing.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said hurriedly, scrambling upright despite immediately missing the warmth. “How long was I out?”

Sonar waved him off, still horizontal. “Like, an hour or two, don’t worry man. It’s not even midnight yet. Can you get your dog off me? I don’t wanna wake him up.”

Robert chuckled, seeing that, yes, Beef was curled up on the bat man’s stomach. He was back in his more humanoid form now, though his suit was somewhat rumpled and covered in dog hair.

“You sure? He looks pretty comfy; I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Bobert please,” Sonar whined. “Mal’s gonna shove her sword up my ass, and it’s not sexy when she does it.”

Robert scooped up his dog, who was still sleeping soundly, and raised an eyebrow. “How old are you again? Why do you have a curfew?”

Sonar sat up, attempting in vain to brush some of the fur off of themself. “Because if I’m out late, I could sneak off and do drugs.”

“You do drugs on the job.”

“Sure, but I’d be doing twice as many drugs if I was doing them off the job too.”

“I guess me and Malevola are gonna be watching you in shifts from now on.”

Sonar’s eyes widened as his ears pricked up. “Does… that mean this is gonna be, like… a recurring thing?”

Smiling, Robert replied, “If you want it to be.”

The bat hybrid scrambled to his feet with a chirrup that Robert had begun to associate with happiness. “Fuck yeah!” He pumped his fist.

Some may have seen that as an annoyingly unserious answer. It probably said something about Robert that he found it endearing. Probably that this was a bigger crush than he’d thought.

The man stretched his arms over his head, grunting, in an attempt to hide his smile. He didn’t want to look too eager on the first date. “I don’t suppose you could give me a ride home?”

Sonar scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Uh, not right now, no. I can’t transform that soon after changing back.”

Robert shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets and starting to walk. “Guess I’m walking.”

“I can walk you home!” said Sonar, following.

The man tilted his head, considering. “You know what? Sure.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless this is you trying to lead up to asking me for sex, in which case no. We’re not there yet.”

Sonar held up his hands innocently. “Can’t a guy just be a gentleman these days? What happened to chivalry?”

“I don’t think that applies when we’re both men; only one of us can be chivalrous at a time. Am I failing at being a gentleman by not walking you home?”

“I think the top is the one who has to hold doors open and stuff.”

Robert arched one eyebrow, leaning closer. “Then I ask again: why am I not walking you home?”

Sonar’s mouth opened for a few seconds, then clicked shut in the absence of a witty response. The shorter fur around his head visibly stood on end, which Robert thought was his equivalent of a blush. He must not have been as out of practice as he’d thought.

Robert let the question sit for a few seconds, before taking pity on his date and changing the subject. “Do you know how to get down from here?”

Sonar stopped walking and blinked owlishly, peering about as if only now realising they’d reached the end of the roof. “Ah. Uh…”

Peering off the edge, Robert shrugged. “I guess we’re jumping.”

Not giving Sonar time to react, he sat on the top of the wall, swung his legs around and slipped over the edge. The bat man rushed forward, crying out, at the same time as Robert’s feet hit the fire escape with a clang. He looked back up at them with a grin.

Sonar sighed, ears sagging with relief. “Prick. You woke up Beef, too.”

***

The bat hybrid walked home feeling like he’d just done a whole line of coke.

Robert’s apartment was in a much worse part of the city; they had no idea how he got home on his own every night without powers. It was a good thing that Sonar had walked him home, he thought as he approached his own apartment building. Even though he hadn’t been allowed inside. It had been worth it.

They hadn’t even kissed.

They’d stood there in the doorway, making their awkward goodbyes, standing so close that Robert had to tilt his head up to look at him. They’d both chickened out. Whatever, most people didn’t like to kiss Sonar anyway; it was more trouble than it was worth, what with the fangs and the weird rubbery snout. It wasn’t a first date activity. That was cool.

“We should do this again sometime.”

The apartment had been dark, but a shitty bulb had been flickering in the corridor. It was enough sound to outline Robert’s soft, ever-so-slightly lopsided smile, though up that close he didn’t even need it.

Sonar had drunk in the sight.

His eyes were brown. Golden, caramel brown. His eyebrows were black, and ever so slightly upturned, as if in worry. There was scraggly facial hair on his chin that he probably never bothered to shave off. And he had freckles! They were faint smudges, only really visible when he shifted his stance, as little dark spots moving with his face.

“We should do this again sometime,” Robert had said, smiling, completely genuine. “Next week?” Sonar had nodded, dumbly, and the worried tilt to Robert’s eyebrows had smoothed out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That was it, Sonar realised as he turned his key in the lock. They had never seen freckles in person before. They had never been close enough to another person in plain lighting to see their freckles.

What did that say about him?

“Yo, Sonar! Where’ve you been?”

Blinking, Sonar snapped out of his reverie. Malevola was lying on the couch, the TV on low, her elbow slung over the back to look at her roommate.

He shrugged. “Out.” Smugly, he grinned. “On a date.”

The TV was muted immediately. Mal turned to face him fully, both elbows hanging over the back of the sofa now. “No fucking way mate. With Robert?!”

“Hell yeah with Robert!”

“And it went… well?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” said Sonar, not a little offended.

“No, no, I’m happy for you dude! It’s just, usually a good date, by my standards, is the kind where you spend the night at his place. Did he kick you out, or..?”

Sonar scratched the back of his neck. “We actually didn’t have sex. It was just coffee. We sorta just… sat on a roof and talked.”

“Oh, you mean like a first date?“ Her eyes widened. “As in, you’re taking it slow? So you two are dating now?”

“Yeah.” His smile widened. “Yeah, he said he had fun. He wants to meet up again next week.”

“Hell yeah man!” Malevola fist-bumped him as he went past. “Told you it would work.”

They’d been asking the wrong question earlier, Sonar realised. What did it say about Robert, that he was the first person to let him that close? It said that he wasn’t scared of Sonar. It said that he wasn’t disgusted by him. Alone now, left without any other distractions, his thoughts dragged him in a direction he’d been scared to consider: it might say that he liked them. It might say that this could go somewhere.

Alone in his room, Sonar smiled to himself. Maybe they could live with that.