Work Text:
The break room at the SDN was a study in institutional wear. Faded linoleum, a fridge that groaned like a dying animal, and a single, sad window that looked out onto the parking lot. Robert was leaning against the counter, nursing a cup of tea that had long since gone lukewarm. Nasir was in the middle of a story, his hands carving shapes in the air.
“—so I’m standing in the party supply aisle, right? And I’ve got the streamers. The metallic ones, because she’s nine and everything has to sparkle. But the color, Robbie. The color is the crisis. Last month it was all Prism Pink, because of the whole light-refraction thing, obviously. But this month, she saw Coupé do that shadow-dash move on the news and now she’s all about ‘Midnight Black.’ But you can’t have a birthday party with just black streamers, that’s not a party, that’s a—”
The door hissed open. Invisigal walked in, her form shimmering faintly as she took a sharp breath to maintain her transparency. She made a beeline for the coffee maker, her posture a rigid line of annoyance.
“Ugh, Flambae, shut up,” she snapped, not looking at them as she slammed a mug under the drip. “Some of us are trying to have a moment of peace without the verbal diarrhea.”
Nasir’s animated hands froze. His amber eyes narrowed, a scowl settling on his features. He didn’t say a word, just slowly, deliberately, raised his middle finger in her direction.
Robert didn’t react to the gesture. He took a slow sip of his tea, his gaze fixed on Nasir’s face. A low chuckle escaped him, dry and warm. “Go on, Flambae,” he said, his voice even. “You were talking about your niece’s ninth birthday, yeah? You didn’t know what colour streamers to buy because she’s between favourite superheroes.”
He’d been listening. Every single, rambling word.
Invisigal turned, her semi-visible face contorted into a sneer. The coffee pot clattered as she set it down. “Come on, Robert. Stop entertaining him. There’s no way you’re actually listening to that. He just talks because he loves hearing the sound of his own voice.”
The room felt suddenly smaller. The hum of the fridge grew louder. Nasir’s jaw tightened, a flicker of something vulnerable—irritation, sure, but underneath it, a raw spot—crossing his expression before the defensiveness slammed back down.
Robert didn’t look at her. He didn’t shift his stance. He kept his eyes on Nasir, who was now staring at the tabletop, his earlier energy gone brittle. Robert’s smile was small, private, meant for only one person in the room.
“Yeah,” Robert said, the word simple and final. “And I also like hearing his voice.”
The effect was instantaneous. Nasir’s head snapped up. The scowl vanished, replaced by a brilliant, triumphant grin that lit up his whole face. He whirled towards Invisigal, pointing a dramatic finger.
“HA! Take that, bitch! You hear that? My boyfriend loves hearing my voice!” he crowed, the earlier vulnerability burned away in the heat of pure, unadulterated victory.
Invisigal flushed a mottled pink, her transparency wavering. “You’re both pathetic,” she hissed, but the bite was gone, replaced by a flustered embarrassment. She snatched her full mug, coffee sloshing over the rim onto her hand. She flinched but didn’t make a sound, just turned on her heel and stalked out, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft whump.
The silence she left behind was different. Lighter. Charged with a quiet understanding.
Nasir’s triumphant posture softened. He slid into the chair opposite Robert, the plastic squeaking under his weight. He was still smiling, but it was quieter now, more real. “You really were listening,” he said, not quite a question.
“You described seven different types of glitter,” Robert replied, setting his mug down. “I now know more about biodegradable glitter than any dispatch operator should. It was… educational.”
Nasir laughed, a bright, unfiltered sound that filled the dingy room. “The metallic stuff gets in the soil, Robbie! It’s a whole thing!”
“I’m sure it is.” Robert reached across the small table and nudged Nasir’s knee with his own. A small, grounding touch. “So. The streamers.”
“Right!” Nasir was off again, but the rhythm had changed. It was less frantic, more shared. “Okay, so I’m thinking… we do a gradient. Prism Pink fading into Midnight Black. Like, the transition of power, you know? From the daylight hero to the cool, mysterious night one. It’s thematic! It’s artistic!”
Robert listened, his chin propped on his hand. He interjected here and there—a practical question about tape, a warning about ceiling fan entanglement—but mostly he just let the words wash over him. He watched the way Nasir’s eyes lit up when he hit on the perfect idea, the way his hands moved with a fluid certainty that his firefighting never quite had.
This was the thing Invisigal didn’t get. It wasn’t about the content. It wasn’t about streamers or glitter or the minute-by-minute breakdown of a chaotic grocery run. It was the current. The constant, buzzing flow of Nasir’s consciousness directed at him, trusting him to receive it. To hold it. It was Nasir saying, Here is my world, in all its ridiculous, overbright detail. See it with me.
“—and then we can get a cake that looks like a shattered shadow, but with pink frosting inside, like the light breaking through!” Nasir finished, breathless, his eyes searching Robert’s face for a reaction.
Robert didn’t laugh. He nodded slowly, a genuine consideration in his brown eyes. “The cake might be a health code violation. But the gradient streamers are a solid plan. Compromise: pink and black balloons. No glitter in the ecosystem.”
Nasir beamed as if Robert had just recited poetry. “Deal. You’re a genius. I’m buying the balloons tomorrow. You’re coming with me.”
“I have a shift.”
“After!”
“My shift ends at six.”
“Perfect! We’ll go at six-oh-five. It’s settled.” Nasir declared, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. The confrontation was forgotten, the bad vibe thoroughly dismantled. The space around them was theirs again.
Robert just shook his head, that private smile returning. He picked up his cold tea and took a final sip. It tasted fine.