Work Text:
You’re a repairman and plumber in the Torrance area, having settled down after a rather mundane life in your hometown, a far smaller, rural place.
You didn’t hate mundane, in fact, you appreciated it. Work was always in a relatively constant flow given that appliances can always be relied upon to break down and explode themselves, no matter how far technology advances.
But, you didn’t want to get all too used to the same thing.
Your parents told you to never be afraid of change. So, after the auto-shop you worked part time in shut down, leaving you with grease stained fingers and soon-to-be back problems, you figured you ought to travel before you’re too old to leave the house.
A trip to California for a friend's wedding may have been a factor in your state of choice. You liked the Bay Area, but work called you towards Torrance.
That’s when you settled into an apartment complex right in the heart of the city, if visible billboards from your window were any indicator.
The pay was nice, the work was nice, the scenery was too.
But what was nicer, was your neighbor. Directly across from you.
Robert.
A man so average upon first introduction, when he knocked on your door, all expressionless and monotoned, yet clearly seeking honest intentions-
“Hey. Heard you were some handyman..uh, my dog bit the fuck out of my refrigerator cord. Think you can fix it before I get charged?”
-you wouldn’t expect him to be the total opposite.
You accepted because of him offering to slip you full cash for the job, which naturally, anyone who likes money is a sucker for.
But also, honestly, because he was so easy to get along with.
Dry humor wasn’t normally your thing, you were an extrovert through-and-through- the type of guy to genuinely enjoy a night at a goofy stand-up show and laugh your ass off.
But Robert had a dry personality that seemed to only be that way by default. It was still him, but you soon came to find out, it wasn’t all of him.
You became acquaintances.
The type to say hi in the hallway and in the elevator. You consider being allowed to pet his adorable dog a pretty high honor too.
Then, friends.
The kind that you invite over for one thing, then end up staying because the banter is too good, or your jokes are bouncing off of each other in a rhythm too infectious to stop.
The first time you made him laugh, you realize that you’re a bit in over your head.
Fuck. You’re crushing.
And you’re a very observational guy, so when you spot him staring at you while helping a woman who lives on the same floor carry her groceries inside her place, you feel a little less like the feeling isn’t mutual.
You make your way towards you and Robert’s end of the hall, spotting the trash bag he had gripped in his right hand.
“What? You want my help too, Robs?”
The nickname is an easy slip, something you called him while you played go-fish during your apartment's power shortage during a particularly bad storm. Rob was too generic, apparently.
“Fuck off.” Robert huffs, clearly embarrassed having been caught staring. He’s still standing halfway between his door, one hand on the knob.
“I was going to take out my trash.”
“Need help with that?” You ask, for the sake of asking, resting your hands on your hips, your utility belt snug around your waist.
You don’t miss the way Robert’s eyes dip to your buckle, or stop at your biceps, sleeves of your work shirt rolled up, before they flick back to your face.
He raises a brow, still faking that nonchalance. It’s been a while since you’ve played this game, but it still feels just as electric.
“With my trash?”
You hum, not moving. He could either accept or decline, your offer already stood.
“Yes, with your trash.” You drawl. “You look tired. Plus, you gotta watch beef.”
“I would say he can handle himself for five seconds, but lately he’s really been testing me.”
Robert rasps, but he’s handing you the tied plastic bag, and you take it, your hand bigger, but less calloused than his.
When you dispose of it down the chute and head back, Robert’s door is unlocked and cracked. You exhale and step inside.
Robert is standing in the kitchen, Beef prattling around in the living room, making his way to his pillow bed before getting comfortable.
“Duty done.”
“My hero.” Robert murmurs.
“All yours.” You quip in return, heart racing a bit- hoping it wasn’t too far.
Robert doesn’t say a damn thing, though, if anything, he steps back so you can come in the kitchen further.
He scratches his neck, gesturing loosely to the sink.
“Not sure if it’s fucked or fine, but it was leaking this morning.”
“I’ll take a look at it.” You say easily, retrieving your pliers from your belt, noting keenly, Robert tracking the movement from your peripheral view.
You crouch down, opening the sink cabinet, not sure if you should feel amused or depressed by the sight of it being scarcely empty besides a few scrub daddy’s and dog paw-patterned washcloths.
“I haven’t had time to stop by the bank, with work and all.” He says, clearing his throat beforehand. Silence doesn’t bother you, but for some reason it bothered Robert whenever you were around, like if he didn’t talk you’d leave instantly.
Which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Can’t give you cash today.” Robert murmurs, his hand drifting to the back of his ear instead, gently scratching. You look at him, curious about the ear hole (bite?) but you have yet to ask.
“It’s a leaky sink, and I’m free tonight, you don’t have to worry about pay, dude.”
You chuckle deeply, pleased when your pliers make that satisfying noise around the fittings. “Nothings rotten, just needs a retightening.”
You hear him sigh out of relief. “Thanks.”
You nod, double checking before you close the cabinet doors and grunt, getting back on your feet. You realize, not for the first time, that you’ve got a couple inches on him.
“I still feel bad not paying you, though.”
You snort, glancing around his place.
“Robert. Considering you have a single chair in your living room and a dog bed, I’d feel better letting you keep the money. Invest in some melatonin too, maybe.”
You add, but it’s not intentionally scrutinizing, just honest concern. You wouldn’t say you were blunt, but you weren’t one to lie.
“Yeah.” He says, extending the vowels, like it’s something he’s heard before.
“It’s a work in progress.”
“How about this: you get a kitchen table and a couch, I’ll fix all your future broken shit for free.”
You quip, cracking your knuckles before you slide your pliers back onto your belt, going to wash your hands in his sink.
To your surprise, he laughs at that, and it’s damn near unfair how cute his cheeks look when his smile lines push them up, squishing his freckles.
“Come on, that’s not fair.”
“What?” You chuckle, flicking water off of your fingers before drying them. “How is that too hard of a deal?”
“I’m a minimalist.” Robert lies through his teeth, but it’s obvious he’s poking you.
“You’d pass up a lifetime warranty for minimalism? What are you, a fuckin’ anti-vax almond mom?”
He snorts at that, and your heart is thumping. Fuck, he’s cute, he’s so cute, with his eyebrows all scrunched and his brown hair ever darker because he refuses to get some light in his place for whatever reason.
Right now, though, the lack of light was almost intimate.
“Okay. Well we gotta work out some way you can pay me.”
Robert’s chuckles die down, trailing off into his more causal expression. He looks up at you.
You can practically see the same thought enter his head as it does yours. You’re delighted when he’s the first to say it.
“Okay, that sounds like..a set up.”
You chuckle, and you swear you see him shiver.
“What kind of set up?”
“Dude.”
You laugh again,
“Dude yourself. something you’re familiar with?”
He looks a little embarrassed. “I’m sure most guys are familiar with a corny porno set up,” he says your name exasperatedly, and it almost makes you smile.
You decide to be a little bit of a teasing dick, but only because this is going so well.
“Oh, that’s what you were thinking of?” You say, feigning surprise.
“You’re such an asshole.” Robert scoffs immediately, but it’s clear he’s hiding his smile by ducking his head.
“That’s not what you were thinking?” Robert asks, giving you an unconvinced look.
“No, it was.” You confess, debating if you should step forward or not. “But don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to pay me back like that.”
“Good. Don’t think I really make the cut for the part of a sexy girl.” Robert huffs, gesturing to himself.
“Good.” You parrot, before you can stop yourself, toying with some hair at the nape of your neck. “I’m not really into girls.”
Robert pauses, and it almost turns you on how you see visible relief in his body language. He looks equally as hesitant and hopeful as you feel.
And it seems the tension from the past couple of weeks has finally earned its cutting ribbon ceremony.
“Would it be totally left field to ask you to kiss me right now?” Robert asks first.
You don’t even hesitate.
“I said I was free tonight, didn’t I?”
He’s stepping closer first, but you meet him halfway, cupping his cheek, in a way you’ve always wanted to do. You wondered why he’d ask you to kiss him rather than vice versa, but you see now.
He’s kind of nervous.
You’re no casanova, by any means, you get way too attached for that, but you’ve had an even split of rough passion and tender sensuality between previous partners and hookups. You didn’t mind taking the lead.
“You ever kissed a guy?” You murmur against his mouth, in between kisses, swallowing the little breathy noise Robert makes.
“Once, when I was a kid- didn’t go very well.” He says when you pull apart.
“Doubt it. You’re doing good.” You murmur, capturing his lips again, and you feel Robert’s body react a little at that. You can practically feel a protest wanting to slip from his lips, wanting to say something self-deprecating like he usually does, but you stop it, silencing it with more slow, reassuring kisses.
He’s saying your name between breaths, and you gently guide his hips towards the sink counter, pushing him against it. He lets you, hovering his own hands a little before deciding to settle them on your shoulders.
You steal a glance at beef, fast asleep on his bed, relieved.
Don’t mind me, little guy, I’m just gonna take care of your dad real quick, you think.
You get the feeling he’d approve of Robert getting his own bit of loving.
“This okay?” You ask, kissing his jaw, then his neck.
“Yeah.” Robert says, voice cracking a little halfway through, and it’s criminally hot with someone who’s got as deep of a voice as his. “Just, uh- can we not..”
You pause immediately, lips still pressed up against the warmth of his throat. But you pull away, not wanting to go any farther if this was something he wasn’t sure of.
“..not?”
Robert quickly squeezes your shoulders, his brown eyes going a little wide.
“This is fine. Good. I promise. I was just gonna ask, that maybe clothes stay..on.”
He says, a little quieter, and he’s looking at you like he’s scared you’ll say no.
Of course you wouldn’t.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. You want a date first? Several dates? I can do that.” You say softly, brushing a thumb over his collarbone.
He laughs a little, like he usually does at your jokes, but sobers a bit when he realizes you weren’t joking.
“Yeah, actually, I wouldn’t mind that. Sounds reasonable. For you, to do that.” He says, and you smile, endeared by all of him and a little giddy yourself that your feelings were mutual.
“How’s Ikea for a first date?” You quip, looking at his bare living room again, and laugh when he kisses you to shut you up.
Per request, you don’t unbutton his shirt or remove any pants, and it feels a little like teenagers-kissing-in-your-first-car hoping to not get caught, but the second you hear him moan, genuinely moan, as you slide a warm hand beneath his pants and boxers, his belt set aside, its worth it.
And just as hot as real sex.
It’s simple fondling, and definitely easier since you’re both already hard. He’s panting by your ear, fumbling for your belt too, cursing between clenched teeth.
“Feel like you’re trying-“ he swallows after you speed up your strokes, gasping a little. “To get me to come first- that’s not really fair-“
“S’ not a competition.” You murmur, dragging your teeth along his neck. The whimper you get makes your cock ache even more, and Robert’s already slick hand twitches around it. He’s clumsy, but you’re still leaking pre-cum. It doesn’t always take a guy who’s good with tools to know what to do with a dick.
You would know.
“Just want to make you feel good.”
“G- ughn, okay-“ Robert pants in defeat, his hips moving in tandem with your strokes, one of his hands gripping the sink counter, the other still on your shoulder, his forehead drooped next to it, concealing his face.
“Then it’s good, feels good, really good-“ he makes a little gaspy- hitchy noise again when you suck the junction between his neck and shoulder, brushing your thumb across his tip.
He groans your name.
“Fuck, okay, I’m gonna co-“
You kiss him before he can say it, feeling the whine escape him before he spills, coating your hand and his own pants.
You follow shortly after, equally weak, and yet you hold him up when his body goes blissfully limp.
-
You’ve just finished tinkering with the floor’s electrical box when the elevator door opens. You don’t glance over, used to the same ten or so people leaving it like usual, but it’s oddly quiet.
When you hear jagged footsteps you glance up out of sheer confusion.
Your eyes widen like saucers when you see Robert limping out of the elevator half covered in blood.
“Jesus fuck! Robert?!”
He looks up, his eyes practically void, but recognition still coats his face. Weakly, he croaks your name, raising a limp hand to wave you off.
“S’fine. Just maybe, help-“
He barely gets the last word in before his legs are giving out and he’s slumping against the wall.
You sprint over like you’re on hot coals, quickly wrapping your arms around him, lifting him with little struggle.
“Strong.” He murmurs.
“Yeah, thanks, buddy, but what happened to you, huh?” You quickly wrap an arm around his back, to which he grunts, then support his ass, lifting him in something that resembles a fireman's carry.
“Someone attack you? Did you call the cops?”
You’re hauling him to his door, apologizing every time he winces, desperately searching for his keys in his pockets.
“No- no cops. It’s fine, I promise. Fuck. Fuckin’ hurts.” He groans groggily, and you wince, opting to hold him bridal instead once you get the door open. Beef is already there, circling your legs and whining, trying to clamber up them, which would be adorable if Robert wasn’t staining your clothes with blood.
“Hi Beef, hey little man, it’s okay, he’s okay, see? I’ve got your daddy.”
“I can hear you. Don’t call me daddy.” Robert grunts, shifting in your arms.
“I’m calling you your dogs daddy, and I’m calling the ambulance the second I put you down.” You protest.
“No ambulance. Don’t have the money.”
“I’ll pay for it, Robert, c’mon-“ you murmur desperately, worry entirely consuming you.
He clutches your wrist when you set him down, and even amidst your anxiety you feel slightly smug that the couch you two bought on your ikea date was actually useful.
He insists you listen to him, and it takes everything in you not to keep fretting over him.
And that’s how you discover the man you’ve been dating for a solid month was actually Mecha Man.
It explained so much more than you thought. From the stories about his workplace drama, to the existential moping he would do, and the self deprecation.
Worst of all, you know what he thinks- that after he tells you, you wouldn’t want him anymore.
Was it crazy? Fuck yeah, I mean, you’ve seen the guy on tv and little action figures of his suit inside the different homes you’d do repairs in.
But it wasn’t Mecha Man you were interested in. It was Robert. Normal Robert. And you have a feeling he might want someone equally normal to remind him of that.
-
If anything, the truth just strengthens your relationship.
He talks to you more, way more, texts you more, and the sex is better. After finding out he didn’t want you to see the scars beneath his clothes, and ask where they came from, you understood.
You still don’t ask. You find waiting for him to tell you to be better. when you’re at work and in between his own shifts you text back and forth, and you meet him and Beef outside of SDN once you’ve finally paid him a visit.
But somewhere along the way, he crashes again.
Chase, the guy he’s spoken a lot about before you met him in person, the man that you can thank for making Robert smile so often when talking about him, suffered some serious damage on a mission gone wrong.
Or so he says. You’ve got a feeling some details are missing because they sting too deep.
That’s okay, though, you don’t mind waiting.
You’re with him through it all, when he comes home. Whether it’s your apartment or his, he shucks off his dispatcher uniform instantly, trading it for lounge clothes. You know he loves his team, appreciates the opportunity he gets to work with heros, but you also know that SDN’s environment has taken a toll on him.
“I was bait.”
“You’re not bait, I was just setting boundaries.”
“By using me as bait.”
“Well, I find that sometimes the Z-team are visual learners.”
You snort. “Or, I’ll believe it when I see it learners.”
“Yeah, I was trying to be nice.”
“You think I did good?”
“By kissing me while I was on mic? Yeah, I would say yes. Probably got the point across.”
“Gotta let the people know I’m a real boyfriend, and not one that goes to another school.”
Robert looks at you like he always does when you say a corny joke, and shakes his head while chuckling.
“Draw four, you fucking cornball.”
You draw four easily, then tug him by his shoulder where you were laid on the floor next to him, uno cards scattered about. You kiss him four times on the cheek, smiling against his freckles as he laughs and tries to squirm away.
“Ah- you kissed my eye!”
“Be glad there’s not a draw eight card.”
-
The day after Shroud dies, he comes to your door.
He told you he wanted to be alone the actual night, and you respected his wishes, not even looking through your peephole, though it was tempting.
When he does come,
He looks terrible. You doubt he’s eaten or done anything but stare the way he stares at you now.
“He almost killed Beef.”
“I know.” You say quietly, arms around him, stilling his shaking. When his legs give out and he sinks to the floor, you go with him, grateful your apartment had actual carpet.
“You’re okay, Robs- you’re okay-“
You kiss his hair, holding the back of his head while rubbing his back.
“He’s gone.”
He crumples after you say that, and you feel guilty, unsure if it helped or not. Regardless, you let him weep, his hands clutched to the back of your jacket, his whimpers muffled by your shoulder.
-
“Hey.”
“Hi there.” You smile, holding the elevator door open for beef trailing behind, pleased to catch your boyfriend inside the elevator. It was fun, like a little game, to see how often you could spot the man living right across from you while you went about two fairly different lives.
“Come here often?” You joke, winking at him.
Robert looks playfully annoyed as always, but the blush on his cheekbones is an award in itself.
“Not as often as I’d like. You know, being a homebody really is a privilege.”
You make a noise of understanding, almost laughing, but not willing to drop your bit just yet.
“Got anybody waiting for you at home?” You ask, watching the elevator number tick up a few floors.
“Yeah, pretty great guy. Handy. Hot.”
“Sounds like a lucky son of a gun.”
“You flirting with me?” Robert drawls, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Yes, Mr. Robertson, I am.” You retort, watching the door open again, gesturing for him to go first.
“Don’t tell your boyfriend.” You whisper cheekily, trailing behind him.
“Beef, just keep walking, ignore the strange man.” Robert says, but he’s smiling, obviously amused by your ridiculousness.
He looks better, happier. Especially after the whole Red Ring fiasco, even tired, you’re just glad he’s come home to you.
You can tell he’s still shaken, with the way his shoulders slump, and his eyes cloud over every now and again.
You invite him over to your place before he can disappear into his own. It takes a little convincing, but he opts to feed Beef and head to yours afterwards at the mention of dinner, on you.
-
You lay him down on your bed, helping slip off his shoes one by one. You dig a steady finger into his socked heel, pleased when he arches into it.
“Mm, that’s a good boy.”
“Stop. You know I hate that.” Robert lies, but his cheeks dust with a rosy color that makes a hot, pleasant feeling of desire pool in your stomach.
“No you don’t.” you purr, chuckling as you go for his legs next, cupping the back of his knees, spreading them slowly so you can slot yourself between them.
Robert shifts, always so squirmy, every time you got him in bed, your hands on him. At first, you thought it was an aversion to touch, or that he wasn’t a fan of being beneath you.
Now, you realize it’s the exact opposite.
“Have a preference?”
Robert sucks in a breath, swallowing.
“Uh- just, anything that’s not too much on my chest. It’s still kinda..sore.”
“Shit, baby, you really gotta take it easy.”
His eyes droop a little whenever you call him that. Baby. Anything, really. He hardly says it back, maybe occasionally when he was half asleep, but you could tell it would just take some getting used to.
“That’s not exactly in the job description.”
“No, it’s not, but you’re a half-time dispatcher. So..”
You slide your hands away from his knees and to his thighs. You can feel his warmth beneath his pants, but you crave the skin-on-skin contact.
“If you’re hurt, that means you’ve been doing something extracurricular.”
You murmur, giving him a look through your own half lidded eyes.
He avoids your gaze.
“Just happens. Trust me, I’m not exactly a fan of six inch cuts to the stomach as a hobby.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You grunt, and stare at him some more when he goes quiet.
“Hey. I’m not upset with you, I know why you do it. I just worry. You’re not giving yourself equal enough time to rest than you are jumping between fights.”
You tilt your head. “And believe it or not, I like my Robert’s in one piece.”
You know he wants to protest. He normally would. But you’ve started to make some progress, and when he purses his lips and scrunches his nose you know you’ve got him. Cute.
“Kay. I’ll try to take it easy.”
“Promise?” You murmur, leaning down to kiss his jaw.
“Promise.” Robert grunts, leaning into the kisses.
“If you’re lying I won’t fuck you.”
He scoffs, but he’s smiling. “You trying to kill me?”
You laugh softly, going for his belt buckle, deciding to take things slow this time.
“You think I’m joking but I’m not. But don’t worry, we’ll keep you on your back.”
You say, kissing his abdomen when you get his belt off and pants unbuttoned. Robert’s head falls back against your pillow immediately, his foot twitching, accidentally kicking you.
“Sorry.”
“You’re okay.” You reassure smoothly, knowing it was fucking with him, his stomach flexing as you remove his shirt then slide his pants off, kissing his very obvious bulge atop his boxers.
He reacts exactly as you expect by now, his fingers curling into your sheets, his head turned sideways, slightly embarrassed.
Yeah, your boyfriend has a praise kink. Maybe light, but definitely a praise kink.
“This alright?” You murmur, kissing his erection through his boxers again, then the inside of his left thigh, tracing the scars that litter his skin.
He moans your name in a strangled tone, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Come on, quit asking me that.”
“I’m making sure. That’s kind of how this works, gotta make sure I’m pleasing you right, Robs.”
“You are, you always are…” he murmurs, shrugging.
“Okay, then just let me know, alright? Even a simple head nod will suffice, wanna make sure this is enjoyable for you.”
You don’t care if Robert took the chance to be reckless in his hero life, things were different when it was just you two, when he’s naked and vulnerable beneath you. You’d go the extra mile, consent checks, safe words and all.
Because you loved him.
“Okay. Yeah. I..like when you do that.”
Robert finally huffs under his breath, pupils a little dilated as he watches you between his thighs.
“When I do what?” You ask, looking at him through your lashes.
Robert doesn’t get prissy with the teasing, instead, his shoulders slump, and his words are honest when they tumble from his mouth. His face is flustered yet comfortable.
“When you kiss me. Anywhere- everywhere.” He says, in that deep, velvety voice of his, that still manages to sound cute to your ears.
“Okay, then.” You say in between kisses to his thighs, all the way to his knee.
“Will do.”
You strip slowly, watching Robert watch you. Anywhere he wants to touch is fine, you aren’t a picky man. Especially not when he finally seems to be fully trusting of your touch, letting you kiss and caress his scars.
You do just that, kissing him from head-to-toe, stroking his dick while you did. When your own boxers are shed, you fit both of your aching lengths into your palm, nearly buckling at the pleasure yourself.
Robert arches into you beautifully, and you encompass him with your body, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself where his still healing injuries were, and also making sure he wouldn’t be sore from laying down so long.
You kiss his neck before making it to his lips, both of your eyes closed as you squeeze your shaft against his, shivering at the sound he makes.
“So good. You’re so good, Robert.” You croon, nearly falling for him all over again when his beautiful brown eyes crack open and squint with pleasure, his legs lifting to wrap around your waist.
You know he wants to look away, but you guide him back to you with sweet praise as you double up on lube and ease him open for your cock.
“Just lay back, okay? I’ve got you, I’m not gonna hurt you.” You whisper.
It’s not the first time he’s taken you, but he doesn’t do it often, normally too tired for any extra strain on his body. You personally think it would help relieve stress more than anything, but it wasn’t until after everything with Shroud that he felt more inclined.
Not that you minded his usual preference of a blowjob- you’d never, ever, pass up an opportunity to watch Robert on his knees in front of you, his mouth too full to speak, your hand petting his hair.
But this, this was perfect. It felt right. The way you tell him to lift his hips and he obliges, the way it felt to bottom out inside of him, the way you let him come whenever he wants, appreciating the dopey, blissful look he wears instead of long form overstimulation. The way he’d wrap himself around you the second you finished, warm and comfortable, in your ear, murmuring ‘Love you.’
In the shower, to clean yourselves afterwards, his insistence on washing your hair and body first.
Everything was happening on his terms and you don’t mind a bit.
For him, you’d wait.
- - -
“Baby, I’m a repairman who occasionally specializes in clogged toilets, I don’t know how to upgrade Mecha-Man.”
You call, half of your body beneath what was supposed to be a new and improved kneecap for his mech. It was as much an honor as it was daunting to be given the opportunity to work on, what was essentially, Robert’s livelihood.
“Sure you can! Saves me the money on tools.” Robert calls from inside the main suit of mecha man, and you can hear the smile in his voice. It makes you smile too.
“Sounds like freeloading, huh bud?”
You turn your head, watching Beef scurry over to you, his tongue out as he laps at your face. You giggle, petting him back.
“Okay, I’ll be easy on him. Promise. He can’t get rid of me that easily.”
-