Chapter Text
Flambae's got a clear preference in men, and they're typically ones who can match his pace.
So unluckily for him, Robert just so happens to fit his brand of being a mouthy asshole when he first dropped in. The moment the geek started speaking up on team mic, Flambae knew this one was more trouble than the total sum of their dispatchers that came before this cause his velvety voice IS hot, okay? Everyone on the team agreed. Flambae has multiple reliable sources to cite this opinion.
But when Flambae comes sniffing around the office to investigate what the new hire looks like, that same Robert appears to be the most blandest of bland normies Flambae had ever have the honour of laying his eyes on. Absolute plain bread, not even whole wheat-level, so Flambae had immediately dismissed the guy within the "no-way" box and figured that was where the attraction will die out on.
And he's not about to stick around a guy who looks like he can hardly take care of himself. Last time he did so, he fooled himself into being some leech's caretaker until his family gave him a reality check via a 4 hours facetime after his asshole ex left just like that.
...That was an embarrassing period of his life but better late than never. He knows better than to pick up strays with eyes that matches his. They'd leave eventually once they have what they truly wanted and make Flambae the fool for thinking they had something special. He's not falling for another 'I can fix him' scam ever again.
Oh but of course, Robert actually stuck around past a week when others would've given the team up already. Even gotten comfortable. Gotten closer to everyone in Z-team, which includes Flambae.
With time, Robert allowed people to see past his mask of professionalism in-between bar crawls after work, and even revealed to them which superhero he used to be eventually.
Mecha-fuckin-Man Blue. That very same piece of shit in a tincan who haunts his past nightmares in supermax. Fate is cruel for consistently picking the worst men for Flambae to be interested in, because Robert might just set a new record for him as a rock bottom choice.
Ergo. That information should've been an immediate deal-breaker. Flambae has to live with the reminder of his greatest shame permanently, so it should've made the care he feels for Robert die down into a pathetic sputter. Should've made it stop.
His brain missed the memo anyway. Wrong signal output was sent out and Robert has gotten more fuckin enticing, somehow, if that's even possible. The magnetic pull Flambae had for him finally had a reasoning for it, and now he can't bring himself to look away. Realllyy can't find it in himself to retain that hatred he felt for him all those years ago because... Flambae had already started suspecting who he really was before this.
Years was wasted replaying their dialogue in his head. Flambae can make his own connections with that insufferable, confident cadence and deep down; feared the likelihood of him as his dispatcher watching over Flambae and seeing his prevailing, glaring flaws. Feared the thought of how he's perceived.
The coincidences that lines up with Mechaman's broadcasted retirement a day after his hire into the office was also damning. Points just keeps piling up towards that theory but Flambae was fine to pretend that the familiar dispatcher was someone unrelated to his past if it meant he can bury that part of his life away. He was happy to never slip into his self-consuming anger ever again by pretending to not notice.
Guy probably didn't even remember him. He's not vain enough to think he matters to a legacy hero such as Mechaman. High chance that Flambae was just another villain of the week to his schedule and that thought irritates him greatly since that fateful encounter had reshaped everything in his life.
Leave it to Robert anyway to keep gifting Flambae complicated, mixed feelings. Leave it to Robert to make him want to prove himself better...
And Robert's final performance with Red Ring doesn't help at all. Knowing he's in the suit taking command, fighting alongside Z-team as if he always belonged here with them, it's... very distracting, let's just call it that.
Also. This pains him to confess but it took him awhile to realize he hasn't been checking his dating apps anymore, not since Robert caught his eye. That had been his final straw to stop being in denial and just get it over, fearing rejection or not.
A bigger embarrassment would be to stew in regret on chickening out.
Now usually, Flambae's the sort to approach what he likes and be upfront about it. Wasting time dancing around sounds awfully exhausting, so he'd rather just have it over with and ask. Months after wrangling his runaway thoughts together into a semblance of order and with Torrance's SDN rebuilt, they're back in working order again. Flambae has a proper opening to make his move finally.
-- But whenever he endeavors to sidle up to Robert during his break hours just to ask if he's interested in a date, his heart stutters in panic-- as if he's a blushing teen again who's thinking of his prom crush.
It's an utterly fascinating phenomenon, to be honest. However, Flambae's too old to be flustered. He's in his goddamned 30s, it's not helpful at all.
Who the hell gave Robert the audacity to fuck up his confidence like that simply by existing? Flambae had proposed to worse dudes than Mr Goody Two Shoes over here, it shouldn't be this nerve-wracking.
Initially, he had chalked off his uncharacteristic performance anxiety as just fear of making it awkward, since he and the rest of the team well-agreed on making sure Robert stays as their dispatcher. Hooking up with your technical-boss is bound to cause drama-- not that he really cares whatever the hell HR has to say to him.
And Flambae always preferred to be on the audience side of juicy office gossip, not so fun if people start talking shit about his attempt at wooing Robert. That was possibly the worst humiliation ritual for him, cause IF Robert declines, he might just move states.
Chase was another thing. Flambae barely did anything and he's already public enemy number one to that fucker. And to be fair, they do have complicated history before this as Chase was one of the few people the Z-team tolerates as a dispatcher, but his glare had turned up a notch whenever he caught the two of them milling about in the same room.
As though Flambae might just skip the dating stage and drag Robert to Vegas for a impromptu wedding, the old fart keeps on giving them the disapproving stink-eye. But, hah! His dad would sooner maim him than let him marry someone without introducing them to the family first. Chase does not hold a candle to baba's level of absolute disapproval, powered with the necklace or not. He doesn't scare him one bit.
"What crawled up his ass and died?" Robert has said to him in one of those occasion, squinting at Chase as he munched on those shitty cakes he liked so much that Flambae had tossed to his face because, well, Robert seemed more haggard than usual that day.
With a shrug, Flambae went to stand up from their shared table since their break is coming closer to an end. "His own foot probably, with how big of an ass he is."
Robert tilted his head, still chewing when he says: "You were looking at it?"
Slowly turning his head back to Robert, Flambae says intelligently, "Huh?"
Robert, to his credit, didn't break his stride. He pointed at the now-retreated Chase and nodded in his obnoxious, self-assured way like he had made a discovery.
"You were looking at Chase's ass long enough to notice he got a big one?" He explained with a face so grave for the subject matter that it made Flambae mentally pause to process his words.
And Flambae can't lie. He might have snorted a bit at how effortlessly ridiculous Robert can be. Sometimes he really can't believe this is the same guy who gave him that drive to burn brighter.
"HAH. Cute. But I got a bigger ass to stare and admire at. Observe and weep."
Now posing, he made it pretty clear to Robert just whose butt he is implying-- which is his own. He worked hard for it and he deserves to praise it whenever he can in public.
But Robert, a bit annoyingly, made no attempt at looking as his sculpted backend-- not even for a tiny cheeky peek. Instead, he's staring into Flambae's eyes with that dumbass smile that he keeps slipping into, the one that Flambae embarrassingly also likes to look at, and time itself seemed to halt in that moment.
Appearance-wise, Flambae usually prefers admiring the more rugged type. With Invisigal's first person account about his covered collection of scars, you could argue Robert fits exactly that bill.
But, in this very instance, all Flambae sees in his dispatcher was a man who is damningly all soft until he needs to revert back to serious mode. See, right here, especially when he smiles like this to him, he sees it all the more startlingly-- Robert has subtle dimples if you know where to look. He's cute.
...
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Fucckkkkkk. He's so pathetically done for. Even his dad by now had voiced his agony whenever Flambae updates him through text about his shameless pining. This isn't helping his case at all. It's so fucking bad.
Okay. Plan A is going straight to the trash. Flambae would sooner melt into goo at the snail pace he's heading in. He needs to reconvene and think of a more solid plan than asking outright for a chance out together if Robert could weaponize his smile this easy. This is fucked.
Burned by the heat of the sun, Flambae ran off before he dies right here and now. Almost ran over several innocent co-workers who were just going about their shift in his rush. Someone had to practically flatten themselves to the wall just go avoid his fiery tactical retreat.
"Hm," came Robert's grumble as he watched him flee. His smile crumbled right after.
The script he wrote to himself in yellow sticky note was scrunched up in his now clenched hand. Robert then visibly seemed to shrivel in disappointment before cleaning up after himself for the start of his next shift.
'Next time.' Robert promises himself.