Work Text:
Robert isn't afraid to say that his favorite part of SDN is Royd's lab.
Well, maybe he's a little afraid. He shudders to think of what the Z-Team would do if he ever admitted out loud that they were anything less than the reason he woke up in the morning. For a team of former super villains, they have surprisingly fragile egos.
But the lab feels like home in a way nowhere else does. The smell of soldering irons and spilled coolant eases the tension from his shoulders, lessens the tightness around his rib cage. It reminds him of the rare cool days in the deepest winters of Torrence, when the air is cool enough to show his breath during a morning run. For just a moment, breathing is a little easier.
He passes through the lab, letting his fingers trail over the metal tables. Grease clings to his fingers and he rubs the pads together, relishing in the sensation. It makes him feel less like Robert and more like Mecha Man, a real hero. It's a welcome change after the stresses of the morning dispatch.
Royd is already working on the mech when he reaches the testing chamber. With a hefty screech, Royd pushes his welding mask up onto his head, revealing a blinding grin. Sweat drips from his tables, and grease is smeared over his forehead. "You jus' in time, bruddah!" he calls with a blinding grin. Even coated in grime, he looks completely unbothered, the kind of happy Robert doesn't ever remember being. "I need you small hands." He waggles his fingers at Robert. "I'm jus too big."
Robert can't help his snort. "I'm sure you get that a lot."
"Yeah, yeah, I neva hear dat one befoah," Royd says, rolling his eyes. He hands Robert one of the suit's shock absorbers, hand nearly swallowing it entirely.
Robert takes it carefully, turning it over to get a proper look. The spring is jammed down, the mechanisms must have been damaged in the crash. Robert grabs a pair of pliers from the toolbox and gets to work.
"For all you know, I could have been talking about being too tall for roller coasters," Robert teases as he coaxes the twisted metal apart. "Maybe you just have a dirty mind."
"You lolo," Royd scolds without heat, shoving Robert's shoulder, "You lucky you one funny bugga. Uddawise, I woulda buss you up long time ago."
"That is the typical reaction, actually," he muses. Royd laughs at that, and his open joy brings a small smile to Robert's face. He looks back down to the shock absorber, and gives it his full attention. He understands why it was giving Royd trouble. One of the internal clamps had gotten pinched and jammed the whole thing. Even with his tools, it is giving Robert a decent amount of trouble.
"Stubborn fucker," he murmurs.
"Ey, no talk about my brah like that, even if it true!" Royd jokes and Robert barks a laugh.
"Okay, I earned that one."
With a final tug, the spring uncoils, launching back into place. The force nearly rips the base mechanism apart, and Robert swears in frustration. A couple of the screws have been shredded, and Robert makes the snap decision to just take the entire thing apart and put it back together, replacing the parts that are too damaged to still be used.
It's relaxing, working like this. It quiets his mind, putting everything back where it belongs. He needed this: needed things to make sense, to work how they're supposed to. Still, the design of this could be improved. It's no good if too much force can cause it to fail entirely. Maybe he could look into a failsafe system, or have Royd quality control this-
"Nice work, bruddah."
Robert jumps, nearly dropping the hardware he was screwing in. He hadn't realized Royd was still watching him.
"Sorry, sorry. Don wanna give you a heart attack." Royd gestures to the device Robert has nearly finished reconstructing. "Jus impressed, 'sall. Never seen no one work dat quick before."
The compliment drapes over him like an ill-fitting suit. Robert ignores the discomfort and shrugs, like he can remove it entirely. "I can repair any part of the mech in my sleep. Literally, my dad used to wake me up at three in the morning and would give me a part to deconstruct and put back together. Couldn't go back to sleep until I did it right." He chuckles, and flashes Royd a wry grin. "Guess that's where I started my designer eye bag collection."
It's meant to be a joke. Visi would have snorted and told him his dad did him a favor. Flambae would have called him a normie bitch for having to stoop to such ridiculous measures to be a hero. Even Blonde Blazer would have giggled behind her hand and joked about adding it to her training regimen.
Royd doesn't do any of that. He looks at Robert with a soft, hurt expression, as if he'd just watched the saddest part of a nature documentary. He reaches out, so gingerly that Robert doesn't even think to stop him. Royd's hand easily cups his entire cheek. His skin is callused and warm, comfortable against Robert's skin. He gently traces his thumb over the pits beneath Robert's eyes, seemingly afraid he will crumple under too much pressure.
"Sorry dat happen ta you, bruddah," he says, far too sincerely, "'S not right."
This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go. Robert backtracks quickly, trying to reverse out of whatever awkward territory he has dragged them into.
"It—It's fine really," he fumbles. "Whatever it takes, right?"
"I no tink so," Royd says, "'Cuz my folks, dey never woke me up befoah noon, and I coulda hadda doctorate, if it wasn't fo da whole jail time ting."
Robert feels his breath hitch. "That... That makes sense," he says, voice sounding a million miles away. Because it seems obvious when Royd phrases it like that, that it was all just... unnecessary. Royd was talented as both a mechanic and a scientist, far more knowledgeable than Robert would ever dare to claim he himself was. And, if Royd turned out the way he did, getting to sleep in and take things at his own pace, then... that would mean...
Robert shoves the thought away. He pulls away from Royd's comforting touch, despite everything in him screaming not to.
"Eh, this way worked for me."
Royd shrugs, letting his hand drop. "If you say so. But dis time, it gonna be easier fo make the man Mecha!" He pats the arm of Robert's mech suit. "No early bird calls required fo you to earn dis guy. All you haffa do is show up. And lend me you tiny hands." He ruffles Robert's hair, jovial manner back like it had never faltered in the first place.
In his many years as Mecha Man, Robert has gotten used to people approaching him with something they wanted. It is rare for someone to seek him without an angle, rarer still for them not to develop one once they realize who he is.
But with Royd… Robert doesn't hear the little voice in his head, telling him to be on guard, to sniff out his true motivations. He just… believes him.
Despite himself, a smile creeps onto Robert's face. "I think I can do that."
He holds out his fist, and relishes in the warm touch when Royd returns the gesture.
He knew this was his favorite place for a reason.