Chapter Text
It was a normal day, just the regular dispatching and hero training. During lunch, Waterboy ate alone in the broom closet, per usual. He heared someone enter so he looked up and see Flambae, he seemed to be looking for something. "You know, for someone who's so fucking tall you shrink like a wet Chihuahua." He was upset and Waterboy was the only target in sight. "Did you fuck with my lunch again?"
Waterboy shook his head "N-n-no– I l-le-learnt from l-la-last time..!" He said, the bucket he sat in overfilling with water. When he went to take a bite from his sandwich, it crumbled in his hands– his natural water coating making it drenched. "...S-sh-shit.." he mumbled, curling up slightly.
Flambae watched as Waterboy curled up and muttered under his breath. "Goddamnit.." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You're fucking hopeless." He remarked, stepping closer. "You can't even eat a sandwich correctly."
Waterboy shook his head "I-it's my o-own fault f-for trying.." he said softly, pulling out a large basket of fruit he had gotten just in case. "I-I just w-wanted t-t-to try something d-d-different.." he mumbled softly, taking a bite of an apple. He gazed longingly at the wet bread on the floor, with barely even two bites taken out of it.
Flambae watched as Waterboy nibbled on an apple instead of his sandwich. He felt a small pang of annoyance, mostly at himself for being annoyed at something so stupid. "You're so fucking weird." He commented, grabbing the sandwich and tossing it in the trash can before leaning against the wall beside him.
Waterboy shook his head. "I-I can't- can't help it.." he said softly "I-I-It's ge-genetics.. I-I'm nervous a-a-all the time.. th-there's nothing I-I can do to- to ch-ch- stop.."
"So what?" Flambae said, crossing his arms. "Everyone's got their shit, princess." He glanced down at the soaked sandwich on the floor. "You want me to get you another one or are you gonna cry about it?" There was an edge to his voice, but he didn't move to leave.
"N-ne-neither, I guess.." Waterboy whispered. "I-I know that y-you wouldn't– and e-even if y-you did, I-I'd ruin th-that one t-too.." he said "A-a-and it's s-stupid to cry over.."
"Yeah, it is stupid." Flambae agreed bluntly. "But you know what's more stupid? Eating fruit when you obviously wanted that sandwich." He looked at Waterboy's sad face and felt his annoyance shift to something softer that he quickly ignored.
Waterboy chuckled softly. "I-I mean, I did.. b-but at least f-fruit h-has harder, m-more water-based p-p-properties than m-most other foods." He explained, taking another bite of the apple. "A-and if I'm c-c-careful enough.. I-I can use different spreads a-a-and dips on them..!"
"Spreads and dips." Flambae repeated flatly, raising an eyebrow. "So you just.. dip your fruit in shit?" He seemed equal parts disgusted and morbidly curious. "That's fucking pathetic. But also kind of smart, I guess." He was quiet for a moment. "What do you dip apples in? Honey? Peanut butter? Your own tears?"
Waterboy laughed softly, the sound genuine and almost.. cute. "Y-yeah. W-with fruits and vegetables th-that have no taste or e-even more savory t-tastes, I-I can even mix th-them with things l-l-like n-nacho sauce o-or curry..!" He said, looking down slightly "Th-the flavor of r-raw fruits and v-vegetables get b-boring fast.." he admitted. Suddenly his tall, lanky figure made sense.
"Nacho sauce and curry." Flambae whistled, the sound coming between his teeth. "That's fucking gross, dude." He watched Waterboy take another careful bite, the water droplets sliding down the apple. Something shifted in his chest—annoyance, maybe, but he wasn't sure why he was still standing here.
Waterboy chuckled. "I-it's really n-n-not that bad wh-when you try it. L-like celery t-tastes r-really good with peanut b-butter or ranch, s-so-sometimes even Indian curry!" He said, smiling softly. "M-my powers h-help w-with b-being more immune to s-s-spice."
"Indian curry on celery?" Flambae repeated, his face twisting in disbelief. "That sounds fucking awful." But he found himself leaning forward slightly, actually interested in this bizarre food conversation. "So what else do you eat? Just fruit and vegetables dipped in random shit?"
Waterboy nodded. "Y-yeah.. I mean, I-I can eat o-other foods.. th-they just.. d-don't last long.." he said softly. "S-so I play it safe a-and avoid them.. except for every n-now and then.."
Flambae huffed, pushing off the wall. "That's fucking boring." He declared. "You're missing out on half the goddamn food pyramid, man. You need protein, carbs, actual fucking meals." He looked down at the basket of fruit, then back at Waterboy's nervous face. "You ever tried, I don't know, wrapping shit in lettuce?"
Waterboy perked up. "N-n-no.. I-I haven't.." he said softly. He went quiet for a solid minute, as if working out the logistics. "...Th-that.. that c-could actually work!" He said softly, smiling widely.
"See?" Flambae smirked, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at the genuine smile on Waterboy's face. "Not everything has to be dipped or raw. You can wrap shredded chicken in lettuce, put some fucking ranch on it, and call it a meal."
Waterboy quickly got up out of his bucket on the floor, wrapping his arms around Flambae "Th-thank–" he started, pausing as the sizzle of his natural coating of water turned to steam. "..." Waterboy was quiet, shivering as the front of his body turned warm and dry in a way he had never felt before.
Flambae stiffened immediately, the hug catching him completely off guard. His flame powers automatically reacted to the water, the steam rising between them as Waterboy's body pressed against his. He felt the shiver run through the taller hero, that strange warm-dry sensation making Waterboy go quiet.
The hug didn't last long—Flambae shoved him back roughly.
Waterboy stumbled back, blushing deeply. "R-r-right– s-sorry– c-compl- completely o-ou-out of l-line." He said, his stammer seemingly getting worse as he grabbed his fruit basket and looking at Flambae for a second. A slight hurt glimmered in his eyes, but was quickly shoved aside and he ran out of the broom closet.
Flambae stood there, the steam still rising from where Waterboy had been pressed against him. He could still feel the ghost of that shiver. "What the fuck?" He muttered to himself, looking at his hands. The rejection had been automatic, instinctive. He'd pushed him away before he'd even processed what was happening.
That look. The hurt in those fucking eyes.