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The first time it happens, he's taken by surprise.
He and Chad have mostly sorted out their differences– at least, Robert hopes so. Otherwise the amount of times Chad and Alice have dragged him out to some party or thrift store would just be, what, a cruel joke on Alice's part? He doesn't think so. He and Chad spar every so often and Chad still insults him in every conversation, but he's much more bark than bite. Robert would even go so far as to consider them friends. He thinks he's friends with the whole team, by now. It's kind of overwhelming, if he's honest, he's not had a real connection with people in years, and the team is a… colorful collection of personalities. But they're his, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The point is, when Chad saunters over to the booth where Robert is sitting while the team hangs at the bar, he's only a little worried about getting immolated.
“Do you think it's weird that like, half the team has tried to kill you?” Chad offers as a greeting. “Me included, obviously. But like, you let Sonar back on the team with no question. Which was fine when we didn't know that you got tortured by him and Shroud, but now that we do, it makes you look fucking insane. And Visi was the one who nuked your ass. I don't know, man, you seem surprisingly chill about the whole thing. It's weird. You're weird, Robbie.”
“Robbie was my father,” Robert answers. “And it's the Phoenix Program, not the ‘guys-who-did-nothing-questionable’ program. You all did villain shit, I don't hold it against any of you. It's not Sonar's fault he got shafted by a corporate move. The only reason I didn't fight for him harder was because it had been, like, a week of dispatching and I didn't know what the rules were. I really needed the job.”
“I mean, that's all true in theory,” Chad offers, now scooting into the booth and manspreading, his larger form forcing Robert to shift into the corner. Asshole. “But there's a difference between believing in rehabilitation and working with the people who have tried to kill you.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“That's why I'm asking, Bob-Bob. Keep up.”
Robert glances up at Chad. There is a subtle nervousness to his expression that he only catches because Robert knows him so well. But Robert is also a little tipsy and not entirely keeping his filter, so it surprises them both when the words that tumble out of his mouth are, “I mean, I never expected to live this long anyways. Why would I hold it against you?”
Flambae's expression freezes and Robert panics, stumbling over his words. “Fuck- I'm drunk, forget I said that,” he blurts out, his face flushing with embarrassment. “That was- uh.”
“I didn't either,” Chad interrupts. He's not looking at Robert and his tone is careful, deliberate. “I mean, nobody robs a bank and lights the money on fire, right?”
A cold rock sinks to the bottom of Robert's stomach. He's…had his suspicions about that day. He'd definitely known that Flambae had been more self-destructive than violent- the villain hadn't injured anyone or held anyone hostage, and the building burning down sabotaged any chance at a successful robbery. That had been his recommendation when he'd finally taken Flambae down and into custody. He'd even offered a written statement for the court.
God, and Robert had almost- he could have-
“But then, you know, I went to prison and shit,” Chad continues, cutting off Robert's spiral. “At first, I was just miserable and pissed off. But my sister had a baby and I realized, if I didn't get my shit together, I would never get a chance to meet her. So I did the work. I went to therapy and rehabilitation programs even though it all really fucking sucked, because I wanted to meet her. I wanted to be better. And eventually I realized that, like, living and shit isn't all that bad.”
Chad absentmindedly taps his right hand on the table. Robert's eyes are glued to the missing digits.
“This asshole Mecha Man was too much of a coward to kill me,” Chad says, “but honestly, I'm kind of glad he was too much of a little bitch to do it. ‘Cause what I got going on now is pretty good.”
“Rise from the ashes,” Robert says without really thinking, his throat dry. He stares down at his drink. “Chad, I…”
Guilt crawls into his throat. What the hell is he supposed to say to make up for this- how deeply he's failed, how much he should have seen? He's a hero. He should have done more.
“I'm trying to tell you not to fucking kill yourself,” Chad snaps, his eyes glowing. “Fuck, I mean- I'm not good at this comforting shit, okay?”
“I'm not going to,” Robert says, and he's only a little surprised to realize that's the truth. “I don't…I don't think I'm at the ‘living and shit isn't all that bad’ part, yet. But I'm getting there. I'd like to be.”
“Good,” Chad says, running a hand through his hair. It looks good down, Robert thinks. “Fuck, man, don't say shit like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like- being so fucking chill about dying. Are you only cool with the team because you're- you don't think it matters if you're the one who gets threatened?”
“Oh,” Robert says, thinking back to the bar fight, when he'd admitted to being Mecha Man. He had known how Flambae might react- frankly, he hadn't cared. It was more important to the team as a whole to show trust. Forgiving Visi had been simple. She was a villain, she did villain shit, it didn't matter. He didn't hold it against her, the program was for rehabilitation. The same was true of Sonar.
But Chad had a point. He was being pretty blasé about what had admittedly been violent attempts on his life.
“I don't know,” Robert admits. “I don't really think about the stuff that happens to me.”
Robert stares at his drink. It feels a little bit like the world is spiraling around him. He feels like his body is slowly filling up with static, a yawning void that is vaguely horrifying, but disconnected, like watching a documentary about something awful.
He is brought back into himself with a jolt as a warm weight is thrown across his shoulder- Flambae's arm pulling him closer. It's surprisingly comforting. He finds himself melting into the embrace, blinking slowly.
“I didn't know you cared,” Robert mumbles, still not-quite present.
“Of course I fucking care,” Chad snaps. “And if you don't care, I'm going to care enough to make up for it, because you're a weak-ass bitch who can't take care of himself.”
“Thank you,” Robert replies, cuddling a little closer. The heat goes up a bit as Chad's face goes pink, and he averts his gaze, muttering insults under his breath in a language that Robert doesn't know.
He really is beautiful, Robert thinks, staring up at Chad as he leans against his shoulder. And so much kinder than he pretends to be, so much kinder than Robert deserves, and it takes a moment for Robert to realize that the warmth he's feeling isn't entirely from Chad's powers.
Oh, Robert thinks. He might be a little fucked.
It isn't just that moment-- he’s aware enough of his paper-thin mental health that he's wary of imprinting on the first person who showed him any modicum of care. But it's different, it's the way Chad clearly understands. It's the connection between them that has existed since the beginning, the ways they mirror one another, the easy back and forth and trading of insults. It's the clumsy ways in which Chad tries to convince Robert to take care of himself, dropping off homemade food with the constant excuse that he's made too much, a veneer that's growing increasingly thin with every meal. It's the endearing whistle to his “s” from the tooth gap he still hasn't fixed because his niece just lost her front tooth and was nervous about it.
He also just really fucking hot. Robert isn't blind, and the man's costume leaves very little to the imagination. It doesn't help that now he's actually doing his job, competent and offering genuine suggestions in between the nonstop snark, in a way that makes Robert need to mute himself on the headset as Chase gives him a questioning look for how red his face gets.
They're friends- they've been friends for a while. But something that night had shifted things, ever so slightly, and it scares Robert a little to know just how deep to his core Chad seems to be able to see him.
But Robert isn't about to risk their friendship for whatever-it-is that he's feeling, the half-baked, half-in-love tangled mess. He's still sorting out the disaster that is his own health and wellbeing. So he lets those feelings take a backburner, pun intended.
He doesn't expect it to keep happening.
He and Coupé have gotten fairly close. It started from when he chose to keep her over Sonar. Her gratitude towards him had felt undeserved, but they got along well. Somewhere along the way things had just sort of…morphed. She understood him in a way the others didn't. Neither of them had ever lived very normal lives and they were both adjusting to being real people in the real world. It felt a little less embarrassing to constantly miss pop-culture references when you weren't alone.
(There is more to it than that– Janelle didn't talk about her childhood much, but the details she did share always resonated with him way more than any of the other Z-Team childhood stories. He had never stayed up too late during a sleepover, but he had run training drills until he couldn't move. He was distantly aware this was probably a bad thing, that his hero training looked so much like Janelle's assassin training, but he isn't entirely ready to unpack that can of worms. He already has so many other worms he's dealing with. He's knee deep in worms.)
Their friendship is easy. They're both pretty quiet people when they're on their own- often it means they are just sitting in silence, engrossed in their own tasks. It's a nice change of pace. Not that he doesn't love the Z Team, but they can be a lot altogether, and sometimes Robert just doesn't have the energy to keep up. Things with Janelle alone are just a little calmer. He likes that.
Janelle has gotten Robert back into reading, and although their tastes differ wildly (he is much more of a scifi guy than a fantasy one, and he generally avoids erotica altogether), he likes to listen to her explain the plots of her books. She's getting into knitting and he likes to sit with her as she works.
It's one of these times, where she is knitting quietly, and he is on his laptop fiddling with some code for work (the cybersecurity at SDN badly needs updating) that a realization strikes him like a lightning bolt.
He's a person.
He's a person with real hobbies and interests and friends. He's a person who actually has answers to small-talk get-to-know-you questions, who doesn't have to lie or dart around giving a real answer because there isn't one to give. He has furniture in his home now because he's not convinced he might have to move at any moment, that his identity could be compromised and he has to run. He has people who would notice if he went missing. He has people who would care.
It's not like he didn't know that, it's not like he was completely unaware of the way his life was changing. Still, it's a little startling, when he's so used to being nothing but a hollow shell with one purpose, to look around and realize suddenly that there is substance.
He must pause for too long because Janelle looks up at him.
“It's nothing,” he waves her off, “I just…had a bit of a sappy moment. That's all.”
Her eyebrows furrow as she stares at him, a quiet, calculating analysis. He's not sure what she sees, but her expression softens. She shifts from her position across the couch to sit closer to him, until they are resting with her back leaned against his side. She picks up her knit where she's left off.
“It's nice, isn't it?” she says, a reply to what he has not said out loud.
The warmth he felt with Chad before unfurls in his chest now, a melting, a softening of parts of his heart he didn't know were capable of being anything other than a cold, protective shield. The screen in front of him blurs with tears that he has to blink away.
“It's nice,” he agrees.
And- look, how is he supposed to feel? When she looks at him and can understand him at a glance, can read him down to his soul because she has walked the same path? How is he supposed to feel at the subtle softness, the way her cold exterior has turned into quiet smiles and knowing looks?
And- she is also really fucking hot! He has eyes! He has watched her take down fighting rings by kicking everyone else's ass. If he has resolutely banned himself from checking in on the cameras when he knows she's in action unless there's a reason to, nobody else needs to know that!
God. Robert is too bisexual for his own good.
Besides, she has Colm. He knows their bond is something they both deeply treasure, the rekindling of their fiery relationship into something more solid and steady is something he's truly honored to have witnessed. He's not going to get in the way of that for his stupid, soul-wrenching crush.
It's fine. It's fine.
So when it happens a third fucking time, Robert is just kind of resigned to the whole thing.
Does it make it better or worse that it's Colm? That he is horrifically down bad for two people who are in a relationship with each other? He doesn't know.
In his defense, Colm is a fucking sweetheart. Easily one of the kindest people on the team, and doesn't have as much of a hang-up about showing it. Their friendship had solidified after the bar fight. Colm had asked Robert about his hand-to-hand combat, and Robert had admitted to participating in some fighting rings when he was young. It had been the best place to get some experience. Colm had offered to teach him more formally if Robert agreed to show him how he pulled his more underhanded moves. So they started training together, and- fuck, if it wasnt the most fun Robert had had in years. Colm kicked his ass more than once, but Robert held his own pretty well. It was fun to talk about fighting for fighting's sake– and while Robert was probably supposed to discourage the secret fighting rings Colm was still sneaking out to, it was really just a blast to watch him.
Colm was also really knowledgeable about this kind of thing. He kept encouraging Robert to eat proper meals- something about macros and protein and calories and stuff Robert probably should have already known. He had also taken note of old injuries Robert had that were still affecting him, things Robert had tuned out completely. Colm pestered him about certain PT exercises and braces and massages- and Robert had given in.
What was a massage between platonic male friends, anyways?
He should have known he was fucked from the moment he laid down on the bench and Colm literally climbed on top of him. He knew it was because it was the only way the shorter man could get leverage, but still. Still.
He should have known he was fucked the moment Colm began working his muscles and Robert let out an involuntary groan that sounded straight out of a porn. He should have known he was fucked when Colm laughed at the way his ears went red and told him not to worry about, that it was a natural reaction to the release of tension. He should have known he was fucked when the longer the massage went, the less he cared about the noises he was making, just caught up in how good he felt, in a way his body hadn't felt in years.
Somehow, it wasn't all of that.
It was afterwards, when Colm handed him a bottle of water to rehydrate as he stretched, body newly limber.
“How do you know how to do all of this?” Robert asked. “You could make good money as a personal trainer. Probably better money than this.”
“Aye, probably. But no, I like the team. I'm not leaving anytime soon,” Colm says. “As to how I know it…well, yer body is a temple. We only get one and that body needs maintenance. It's hard work, but there’s no shortcuts.”
“...Didn't you get your strength from a sorcerer?”
Colm chuckles. “Yeah, but look at where that got me! Besides, even with the magic, I still gotta work to maintain it. Otherwise I'm just short as a leprechaun and only have the strength of three or four men. Not enough of a trade, in my opinion, but what can ya do? The old witch is dead, last I hear. Point is, taking care of your body is important work. And you, poor lad, I knew I really had to help. If your body's a temple yours was feckin decrepit.”
“I was in a coma!” Robert defends. “You missed the worst of it. I couldn't walk for a month.”
“But you threw yourself right back into it! You threw on some duct tape for the repairs and said that was good enough. You…” Colm goes quiet, contemplative. “You don't take care of yourself. You don't see how much value you bring to our lives. You treat your body like it's expendable, and it damn scares me, sometimes, how cavalier you are with it. This was a way I could help. If you're going to throw yourself in harm's way, the least I could do was make sure you have something sturdier to work with.”
Robert freezes mid-stretch. He's not entirely sure how to reply.
“Oh, don't worry about it,” Colm says, slapping a hand on Robert's back. “You take such good care of us. We gotta take care of you.”
“Right,” Robert finally manages to say, hoping desperately that his ears haven't gone bright red again.
So. Now he was harboring three separate crushes on people who were technically his subordinates. His working days were becoming something of a personal hell.
But if there was one thing Robert was used to, it was putting aside his personal wants for the greater good.
It was fine. Really, it was. He made damn sure he wasn't showing any bias at work, but honestly it wasn't all that different from any of the other boundaries he'd set in place. He was friends with the whole team, and they all knew that work was work, and keeping that separation was important. He had worked hard to get the team to work like they did now, to run like a well-oiled machine, and he was not about to risk that careful balance for the stake of his own stupid feelings. If it was up to him, he would leave it alone and never touch any of those feelings with a ten foot pole.
Unfortunately for him, his best friend is a fellow disaster bisexual who can read him like a book.
“I don't understand why you don't just tell them,” Courtney says. “Any of them. None of them would be dicks about it. Well, except maybe Chad.”
Speaking of delicate balances, Robert is really glad he and Courtney have returned back to their platonic camaraderie. She had returned to the team after a long suspension period that involved a lot of mandated therapy, which had led to some very awkward, if very necessary, conversations between them. She had acknowledged she had crossed a line in her behavior and while he had at first brushed it off and forgiven her without a thought, she insisted he actually take the time to really think about his own feelings and boundaries and not to let her off easy. He admitted that the dream details and the locker room had made him far more uncomfortable than he'd let on, and that he'd be more proactive about not letting her cross boundaries. It was all awkward and painful and clumsy, but it was worth it. Despite everything, he had really missed her.
He didn't necessarily miss the shit-stirring.
“I have told you all of my very reasonable and legitimate reasons for not telling them,” Robert replies dryly. “Besides, it would be an HR nightmare.”
“Coworkers are allowed to date. There's, like, paperwork and shit you can file. There's a married couple on G-Team.”
“Interesting that you know that,” Robert says, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Why, you want to make sure fucking Mandy would be above board?”
Courtney's face goes pink and Robert cackles, even as she reaches for the throw pillow next to her and launches it at him.
She really doesn’t have an excuse. Mandy's crush on Visi is obvious, but Courtney's somehow got it in her head that her feelings aren't reciprocated, or that Mandy is “too good” for her. Which is a load of crap. Mandy briefly had a thing for Robert, so clearly her standards aren't as high as Visi thinks they are.
“That's different. You know that.” Courtney says, still a little flustered.
Robert snorts. “Yeah. I'll ask out the team if you ask out Mandy, how about that?”
It isn't really meant to be a real proposition. He's teasing her. It's why he misses the way her face turns determined, and why he doesn't take her that seriously when she says,“Okay. Sounds like a deal.”
He should have known better.
It's about three weeks later when it happens. The Z Team have all invited themselves over to his shitty apartment, as has become tradition. He's gotten much more furniture, if only to make it a less terrible place to converge. He's comfortably tipsy, swaying a little as he stands in the corner, observing the team. He doesn't think much of it when Courtney asks him to grab her phone from the bedroom, where everybody's coats and belongings are piled. He's a little surprised to find other people in the room, but he doesn't quite clock who it is, too focused on his mission. That is, until the door clicks shut behind him. He jolts as Flambae bolsters his way past him and tries the door. It's locked– since when has his door locked from the outside?
He hears giggling from the other side. He sighs as he stands, pounding on the door. “Courtney,” he says, “This isn't funny. Let us out.”
“I held up my end of the deal!” she crows from the other side. “I got a date with Mandy next Saturday. It's your turn, asshole.”
“Yeah, c'mon, baby boy,” Alice coos, giggling. “You need to get laid bad.”
It takes his alcohol-laden brain a moment to catch up, to realize what Courtney is implying. His face burns as he protests through gritted teeth, “Courtney.”
“Robert.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Chad says, slamming a hand on the door. “Pris, babe, this is some middle school shit.”
“Oh, it is middle school shit. Seven minutes in heaven.”
“I would like to be let out, please,” Coupé says. Robert startles a little- he hasn't entirely clocked the other figures in the room. But, of course, she and Colm stand on the other side of the bed. Her face is tense, her eyes glued to the only exit that is now closed off.
Oh. As much as he was embarrassed about the situation, he hadn't realized his own growing panic, the nauseous feeling of the walls collapsing in on him. Robert has been trained to survive, he does not like being trapped like this. Neither, it seems, does Janelle.
Robert takes a step back and places a kick aimed at the door. The door shudders, but doesn't move, which doesn't make any sense. His apartment is basically made out of cardboard– he should have been able to break the door down. What the hell is going on?
The girls yell on the other side in surprise. “I cursed it, babes!” Malevala yells. “Shit’s staying locked for at least a half-hour.”
Robert barely blinks before he turns and stumbles towards the bedroom windows, shaking hands fiddling with the locks, but they don't budge. The world kind of feels like it's caving in around him and his breathing is coming faster and faster and Flambae is now screaming, arguing at the door and the noise just makes his heart pound and-
A hand on his shoulder startles him out of his reverie as Janelle pulls him away, leading him to sit down on the bed. Her eyes are intense and her gaze never leaves him. For some reason, he finds that comforting.
“Malevala says the spell will wear off in time. There is no point in trying to break out,” she explains. “I do not understand why they would pull such a cruel prank. I thought they knew I do not like…this.”
She is also tense, he realizes. Robert takes a slow, steadying breath and her shoulders lower ever so slightly.
“I don't think it was meant to be cruel, love. They're just teasing. Seven minutes in heaven, you know?” Colm says, his voice rough.
Oh. Right. Robert's face flushes.
“I do not know what that means,” Janelle says.
“Fuck!” Chad swears, as he gives one last push to the door. His shoulders are on fire. “This is so fucking stupid. I told Alice that in-”
Chad's face goes pink as the flames flare. He sits down on the other side of the bed, glaring at the wall. “Though I don't get it. If that's why she pulled this, why would you bitches be here? No offense.”
Colm laughs. “None taken, lad. I'm a little confused as well.”
Robert's face feels like it's on fire. “Uh,” he says intelligently. “Okay, um. Fuck.”
All eyes turn to him. His face burns even more. He turns his gaze to his lap where his hands curl into fists. He hates this. He is so, so furious at Courtney right now. He hates being trapped here. He knows it's only a matter of time before the others put the pieces together of exactly why they've been trapped together– if not now, then he's sure somebody will let it slip once they're all released. It's better if he says something now, rip the band aid off.
He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to.
“Um,” he repeats, letting out a watery giggle. He tries to blink back the tears that suddenly burn in his eyes, but it's a futile effort. “I don't- uh,” his voice goes a little high-pitched, desperate. He can't fucking say it. He's trying to, he is, but for some reason the words just won't come out. He wants to melt into a puddle and die.
Unfortunately for him, understanding begins to dawn on Chad and Colm's faces. Janelle looks between them, still confused. “I do not understand what is happening,” she repeats, frustration leaking into her tone.
Colm sighs, his face flushing a little. “It's a game, lass. Seven minutes in heaven is a game where you are trapped with a crush, someone you're interested in, in order to…well,” he rubs the back of his neck, coughing.
Janelle frowns. “That usually takes much longer than seven minutes,” she says.
Colm laughs. Chad snorts a laugh as well.
Robert feels like he is going to puke as their gazes all turn back to him.
“I don't–” Robert's voice wobbles. “Obviously I don't expect anything. This is completely inappropriate and–I–I don’t–”
He lets out a vaguely hysterical noise as he curls into himself, covering his face.
“You are interested in us,” Janelle says flatly.
Robert nods, unable to speak.
“All of us?” Chad asks.
Robert nods again.
“Shit,” Chad says. He stands up and walks until he's kneeling in front of Robert, planting a hand on his shoulder. Robert cringes inwardly, eyes squeezing shut to avoid seeing the other man's gaze. “Hey, no, it's okay. Bob-Bob, chill the fuck out. It's okay.”
“More than okay, really,” Colm says, putting his hand on Robert's opposite shoulder, rubbing comforting circles. “Take a breath, lad.”
Robert tries. He really does. He mostly succeeds in a shuddering gasp that ends in a fucking whine as more tears spring forth, but eventually he's able to take in enough air to start to feel a little better, no longer quite like the world is imploding all around him. Both Colm and Chad keep repeating meaningless reassurances, which are embarrassingly good at loosening the knot of tension in his throat.
“I'm sorry,” he says when he's finally able to speak again, his face still a little red. “This is– really fucking embarassing and I'd appreciate it if we never spoke of it again.”
“Now hold on,” Colm says. “Slow your roll. Who ever said we weren't interested in you?”
Janelle bristles. “Colm–” she hisses, her face flushing.
“Nellie, come on. The poor boy has laid it all out for us. The least we can do is tell him the truth.”
Robert feels like he's short circuiting. What? What is happening?
“Though,” Colm's gaze turns to Chad, “this, I admit, is a bit of a complication.”
Chad's gaze lingers on Robert for a long, long, moment, before he turns to consider Janelle and Colm. Eventually, all he says is, “I wouldn't mind sharing.”
What.
Colm's eyebrows raise. “Really! I woulda thought of you as the jealous type. No offense.”
Chad huffs. “I'm not a fucking pussy. I know my dick is good enough to keep coming back to it even if there's other people in the picture. Besides…”
His gaze turns back to Robert.
“Watching you two fuck him would be hot as shit.”
Robert's head is spinning.
“Would you be interested in trading with Colm?” Janelle asks. “The two of you together would also be…interesting to witness.”
Chad looks at Colm and shrugs. “Yeah, fuck it. You're not my usual type, but I bet we can figure shit out.”
Colm laughs. “I thought Robert ‘wasn't your type’, either.”
“He isn't,” Chad replies. “I wasn't lying. He just fucking…snuck his way in, I guess.”
“Okay!” Robert blurts out. “What- are we doing this? What's? Hello?”
“Yeah, I mean–”
Robert steamrolls over the interruption. “Because if we are doing this, I- I don't want it to just be about sex? If that's fine? I'd like it to be…I don't know. I didn't really think this far. But I care about you all, in a way that's more than just- I don't–”
Robert avoids all of their gazes. The ceiling is suddenly so interesting.
A hand caresses his jaw and tilts his head until he is forced to make eye contact with Chad. His orange eyes burn like embers, but his expression is unusually soft.
“You fucking idiot,” Chad says. Robert can feel his breath as he leans in closer until suddenly they are kissing and oh.
Robert's eyes flutter close as he leans into the kiss, hands floating up to find Chad's sides. The kiss is heated, but it is tender, soft, gentler than Robert would have expected. Chad's fingers trail down Robert's jaw, his other hand curling into Robert's hair, and when they finally pull apart, Robert is seeing fireworks.
“We like you, you idiot,” Chad mutters. “God. How long is it going to take to get that through your fucking head?”
Before Robert can fully recover, he is pulled in another direction, and his lips crash against a bristly mustache. They adjust positions until lips meet lips, until he can feel Colm's stubble against his jaw. One of Colm's hands steadies the back of his neck while the other is pressed flat against his chest, traveling up and down his body in a way that sends shocks of heat straight through him. Colm deepens the kiss, his knee pressing into Robert's groin. When he pulls apart they are both gasping for air.
He can feel Chad's gaze burning into him. He catches a glimpse of the man watching him intently, and realizes with a start that the heat in his gaze isn't just from his powers.
Janelle circles around and shoves her way in between the men, straddling Robert and wrapping her legs around him. He lets out a squeak as she cradles his face in her hands.
“You are important,” she says, her gaze unwavering. “More than you could possibly realize. I would strike the world down for you. I will stop at nothing until you realize just how precious you are to me.”
Robert doesn't have time to respond before she is kissing him, before she is pressing him, pinning him to lay down onto the mattress. He hears someone unzip their pants, and realizes that this is the moment he is well and truly fucked.
They're interrupted at some point- the curse breaks and somebody creaks open the door and shrieks. He hears Chad yell something as he stands and slams the door back shut.
Robert is too busy being pounded into oblivion to really notice.
When they finally finish and shower up, he's only a little surprised to see that the rest of the team is still there. He is catcalled as he limps across the room. He halfheartedly flips them off as he collapses onto the couch. Malevela hands him a cup of water as she presses a hand on his head and some of the pain eases away.
“You gotta hydrate,” she says, chipper. “That went well then, yeah?”
“It did,” he says, taking the glass gratefully. “I'm still pissed off at you all though.”
“Yeah, not our finest moment. Sorry. Is there any way we can make it up to you?”
Robert shrugs.
Prism leans across the coffee table. “Okay, so spill. We want the juicy deets, Robert.”
An idea occurs to him. “No,” he says, taking a drink of his water. “Actually, I think that's a fair punishment. You don't get the gossip.”
Alice looks genuinely crestfallen, but she nods somberly. Her eyes dart over to Chad as he and the couple enter the living room, but Chad shakes his head.
“Sorry. I think Bobby's right,” Chad says, sitting next to Robert. Colm and Coop sit on his other side. “Fair is fair. That was kind of fucked up even if it turned out okay.”
Colm says, “Pretty great, actually.”
Janelle smiles. “And that is all the information about what happened that you are getting,” she says, her arm stretching across to play absentmindedly with Robert's hair. The easy affection makes him want to melt, but in a nice way, this time.
“Boo. Boundaries,” Courtney says. “Seriously though, sorry. I got too caught up in things, and…”
“It's okay,” Robert reassures. “Well. No. I'm trying this thing where I don't immediately gloss over things. It wasn't okay, but I know nobody had bad intentions. You were just…”
“I just want you to be happy, and you're the most self-sabotaging dipshit I know,” she says. “But yeah, my bad. Probably a better way to have gone about things.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, cuddling up against Chad a little more. Chad notices this and wraps an arm around him. Colm lifts Robert's legs up until they're stretched across both him and Janelle. Robert hums. He's honestly fucking wiped, both emotionally and (ahem) physically, and Chad is pleasantly warm, and Janelle playing with his hair is sending him dangerously close to falling asleep.
“This is nice,” he mumbles. “You're right. Living and shit isn’t all that bad.”
Janelle's hand pauses and Robert blinks sleepily, looking up. Has he said something wrong?
“Yeah,” Chad says, his voice rumbling as Robert's ear is pressed against his chest. “Yeah, it is pretty fucking good, isn't it?”
Colm takes his hand in his and squeezes it. “Especially with you in it, lad.”
Janelle's hand resumes playing with his hair. “Yes,” she says. “It’s nice.”
Robert lets his eyes shut, too tired to fight the battle of keeping them open. He knows that this has not solved everything, knows that love is not a remedy for all of the ways he has been broken. Still, laying here now, content with the knowledge that the people he cares about love him back…
It's enough, for now, for everything else to recede until he is left with nothing but a warm feeling in his heart.