Chapter Text
The thunderstorm picking up is the signal for Chad to call it a night and go home. His night shift ended a few hours ago but as long as SDN had a twenty-four hour gym he was going to take advantage as much as he could. His flame wasn’t everything and he wasn’t stupid, Chad knew that in the case he couldn’t use his power, like when Mecha-Bitch had tossed ice water on him, he couldn’t be a liability, he’d need raw strength to make up for getting extinguished. Besides, using the flame all the time got a bit exhausting, not that he’d ever admit that.
Chad takes enough of a shower to make sure he’s not covered in sweat and doesn’t smell. It’s not that he hates the water, he doesn’t, but the weather app on his phone tells him the longer he takes the worse the storm outside is going to get. It’s typical this time of the year as the seasons change and the spare pair of boots waiting in his locker will ensure he doesn’t get his feet soaked on his way out to his car.
SDN is dark except for necessary lights that stay on all the time for security purposes. It’s approaching midnight and most of the staff is gone by now. Only the graveyard shift dispatchers linger upstairs and any heroes still in the field can only get in from a side door or two requiring a code after hours. Still, the horror movie feeling of being alone but not entirely lingers.
So it shouldn’t surprise Chad when he sees a silhouette, framed in shadow, in the waiting area as he turns a corner into the lobby- but he still startles. “The fuck are you still doing here?” Chad grumbles, sauntering into the lobby as if his pulse hadn’t briefly started racing. He had quickly recognized the untidy head of hair attached to a familiarly skinny neck. Not that he’s thought about Robert’s neck enough to recognize it like that… definitely not.
Robert sits up straighter, flexing his shoulders to stretch out stiff joints, “Could ask you the same thing,” Robert sniffs, fighting a yawn, he looks like Chad just woke him up from a nap.
Chad stands in front of him, casting a long shadow from the moon-mixed-street light that makes its way through the massive windows. He crosses his arms and looks his dispatcher up and down. The crumpled work-shirt is not lost on him. “I’m sorry. Sleeping Beauty, did I wake you up?”
Robert rolls his eyes at Chad’s mock sympathy. “Not that it’s exactly any of your business, Flambae, but my ride canceled on me. And, to top it all off, my phone's dead, so I can’t order a new one.” He leans forward and balances his elbows on his knees.
Chad huffs in amusement.
“You gonna keep looking at me like that or do I need to charge you by the hour?” Robert asks, annoyed.
“No, no, I was just thinking if I wanted to offer you a ride in my sick ass car but, if you’re gonna be rude I’ll save the passenger seat for a different ass.” Chad turns, walking away, leaving Robert behind. He pushes the door open and half expects Robert to say something or to stop him. He doesn’t. Chad steps out into the rain and the glass door automatically locks behind him. The heavy click of the lock is a good reminder not to turn around. He’s not desperate. He won’t die if Robert says no.
Why did he want so badly for Robert to say yes then?
Chad doesn’t think about it. Instead, he crosses the parking lot to his parked car, flashing himself with the head lights as he unlocks it with the key fob. He’s not in the pouring rain long enough to get too wet that he’ll get his seat wet but just enough the cold bites at him through his shirt. Overall, he’s still glad when he shuts the door and is out of the wet.
His eyes linger on the electronics in the side panel of the door, hoping it wasn’t enough to mess anything up, he didn’t feel like shelling out more money after some asshole fucked up his windshield last week. It’s probably fine, he thinks as he sticks the key in the ignition and the engine literally roars to life with a satisfying purr.
A tap on the passenger window has his head snap to his right and the familiar warm tingle rushes to his fingertips. Chad stares blankly at the face on the other side of the dark, raindrop covered window for far too long before the realization hits. Robert stares at him expectantly and knocks again on the glass. He’s getting soaked the longer Chad takes to connect the dots and his hair is already plastered to his forehead.
Shit.
Chad hits the button to unlock the car. Robert takes his queue and quickly wrenches the door open. He looks like a drowned rat in the car’s interior lighting but what’s left of Robert’s dignity is saved by its slow fade back to darkness. “Asshole,” he grumbles in the silence.
He didn’t do it on purpose but just for the sake of being a hardass, Chad lets him sit with the thought. “You gonna tell me where you live or you just gonna ruin my leather?”
“A firebird is a little on the nose, don’tcha think?”
Chad starts to rethink his offer. “Nope. Where do-” Robert cuts him off, reaching out to the necklace he’s got hanging from the mirror.
He gently runs his long, slender fingers over the beads and ever so gingerly against the charm at the end, “Nice rearview bling-”
“Will you answer the fucking question, bitch?” Irritation and heat quickly pool in Chad’s gut and he’s fighting the urge to slap Robert’s arm away. The car is starting to feel too small and he quickly realizes he’s never been so close to Robert before.
“You gonna start driving?”
Chad sighs and puts the car in gear. He pulls forward, wipers on full blast, and ignores the little skid his rear tires do on the wet pavement as he turns out of the lot.
“Jump on the highway up there, take the third exit into downtown.” Robert settles into the seat and starts to adjust it like it’s his. He scoots the seat backwards so his knees aren’t against the dash and adjusts the seatbelt to sit a bit more comfortable.
“Playing GPS are we?” It’s annoying how Robert seems to know just how to get under his skin without even trying. It makes him angry, and something else he doesn’t want to admit to himself. Still, Chad gets onto the highway and prepares to count the exit signs. Maybe Robert doesn’t actually know what street he lives on, or maybe he doesn’t think Chad’s smart enough to know the city to even find it. Maybe he’s just being a dick. Probably just being a dick,
“Yup.” Robert says. Definitely being a dick. He leans his head against the window and watches the city pass as Chad drives. Chad sneaks glances at him between focusing on the road. It’s not fair how Robert can just come into his life and make himself comfortable. So casual and nonchalant like the entire world revolves around him. Maybe it does.
They fall into silence. One exit. Chad thinks about turning on music. Second exit, three quarters of a mile. Robert probably wouldn’t like the shit he listens to. The second exit passes by. But that’s stupid, what kind of pathetic bitch wouldn’t like R&B? The third exit approaches faster than expected.
“Stay right like you’re going downtown,” Robert says through a yawn, Chad had almost forgotten he was there, “You can take a left at the taco place on the corner. If you miss it just get the next one.”
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Chad how the city is starting to get less shiny the longer they drive. It’s funny, he half expected Robert to either be paying a mortgage by the beach or in some penthouse closer to L.A. where he’s got a view. Apparently he’s just as pathetic as he looks.
Chad ignores the feeling of wanting to save him.
They stay quiet except for the pouring of rain beating on the roof of the car and the hum of the engine. Left at the taco corner. Chad keeps repeating in his head.
A light at the ahead intersection flicks from green to yellow. If he were alone, he’d think fuck it and floor it through the warning. Damn the rain and wet asphalt and the risk of fishtailing, he’d take the hit of adrenaline and sleep it off when he got home. The sight of Robert in his peripheral has him gradually pressing the brake until he rolls to a stop for the red. Dammit. There isn’t another car around, what are they waiting on?
A drive-thru taco sign flickers faintly to his left. He’ll have to turn here. Chad’s not in the right lane but if there isn’t any traffic then what does it matter if he cuts over as soon as the light turns green. “What next-?” Chad starts to ask Robert, but when he looks over at the man, he’s taken aback.
Robert has scrunched himself up in the seat, head resting on his shoulder and the window, his soft breathing fogging up the window with each inhale. The glow of the traffic light makes the dark circles Robert’s been hiding that much more visible. What the hell had he been doing at the office so late?
He looks so… peaceful. Chad thinks. But there’s a pained expression hidden behind all the exhaustion that lays heavy on Robert’s shoulders. Chad thinks, at least just for a moment, he’s getting to see a bit of Robert that he hides. It’s only fair when Robert somehow sees right through the carefully crafted walls Chad has put up. It’s where all his anger for him comes from. Not only does he saunter into his life like it's no big deal but Robert also sees him in a way that Chad doesn’t let anyone, not even Alice, see. Robert doesn’t see Flambae, he sees Chad. And Chad hates that.
And yet… he doesn’t back down.
Robert still finds his way into Chad’s orbit like there’s some sort of gravitational pull asking him to be there. Being in the breakroom at the same time, find each other from across the gym, answering his comm before anyone else on the Z-Team…
Maybe he’s imagining it.
He definitely is when his mind starts to linger on the what-ifs. Chad would never let his mind wander there this close to Robert, let alone when he was awake and looking at him, but that part of his brain Chad has buried demands to be acknowledged right, fucking, now.
Because what if Robert felt the same way? Dammit, he was attracted to the fucking twink, even if Robert isn’t the regular type of guy Chad falls for. There’s some sort of hidden strength that Robert carries with him, the exact damn kind that Chad’s soul yearns for, and a soft forgiveness that refuses to turn and run when things get hard. No matter how hard Chad pushes his buttons somehow Robert is always there.
He wants it, badder than he’ll ever admit. The light turns green. Chad takes the left.
Who was he kidding? Robert will probably never feel the same way. Not with the way he looks at Blondie or Visi. Robert doesn’t look at him the same way. He’s tried to talk to Robert like Visi does, all raunchy and flirtatious like he’s got nothing to lose, hoping Robert would hang onto every word with some sort of riled up attraction. He only ever teases Chad back like it’s an after thought.
So Chad’s imagination stays just that.
He hopes to see something that looks like an apartment building or a house or something other than a cold street corner in an otherwise empty industrial district but it quickly dawns on Chad that Robert fell asleep before he can finish giving directions. Somehow waking him up feels out of the question. Chad would keep driving if he didn’t need gas and wasn’t tired himself.
With a heavy sigh and a guilt that grips at his chest, Chad changes his course towards home.
He’s not exactly sure what he’ll do when he gets there. He tries not to think too hard about it, not to let his mind wander, but with his thoughts already there it's hard to stop them. He’s picturing Robert, wrapped in his silk sheets, drooling on one of his pillows, warm in the sunlight as it hits him through the window. Chad makes him coffee, maybe breakfast, they go to work in the morning, together.
Chad hits a rough pothole that jerks the car and simultaneously out of his thoughts. Robert stirs and he selfishly hopes he doesn’t wake up.
A sick feeling hits Chad. Why does he feel like he’s taking advantage of him?
Robert doesn’t wake. Instead, he groans rather pathetically and shifts to get comfortable again. When was the last time he got a decent night’s sleep?
Chad fights the rabbit hole his mind wants to wander down the rest of the drive home.
It doesn’t get any better when he actually pulls into the driveway. Just leave him in the car. Chad thinks. He’s already comfortable enough where he is. But Chad’s expensive couch would be so much more comfortable. He knows it is, he’s fallen asleep in front of the TV plenty of times. It’s not even raining that hard anymore, only thunder threatens overhead and the intervals steadily get longer and longer. If he’s careful he could carry Robert into his duplex and he’d never know.
But what if he wakes up?
Then Chad would come up with some sort of excuse as to why he was… carrying him… inside his house… fuck, what would be a good excuse for that?
Good thing Chad was always better at thinking on his feet.
Robert must be a deep sleeper or just that tired because he doesn’t move when Chad gets out of the car. He barely flinches when his door is opened and the seatbelt released. He’s like a ragdoll falling limp into Chad’s arms with the weight he’d been putting on the window. Chad freezes, waits for Robert to wake up and start freaking out. It doesn’t happen.
The least awkward, and least romantic, way to carry him in, Chad decides, is to sling Robert against his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He receives a “Mmph,” in response and if Robert is awake he doesn’t show it. Chad takes this as a good sign and walks the short distance to the door. He’s quick with the lock and swiftly steps in, mindful to open and close the door quickly before it squeaks. He really needs to oil that hinge.
The couch isn’t far, thank fuck, because Chad’s heart feels like its about to burst out of his chest if he doesn’t put Robert down soon. Chad is strong but Robert weighs almost nothing. If he doesn’t regret his decision in the morning then he’d try to feed Robert a decent sized breakfast.
Thankfully he cleaned up the place not long ago and the couch is habitable to another being. The space is clear for Chad to set Robert down on the cushions. Once he’s got the man off his shoulders and laid out on his couch, Chad finds himself frozen. In the lowlight of the lamp in the corner it almost looks like Robert is staring up at him. Chad blinks and Robert’s eyes are closed.
He was going to toss a blanket over him and turn out the lamp, but he has to get out. Chad retreats to his bedroom, shuts the door and locks it, effectively putting space between himself and whatever the fuck he’s just done.