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Robert was fucking sick to death of neighbours.
It was bad enough that his apartment only contained a couch, chair, bathroom, a fuck ton of lamps and an outdated TV, but to have some selfish assholes across the hallway make the experience involuntarily worse just drove him up the wall.
For the past hour and a half, Robert had been forced awake due to the repeated sounds of a headboard slamming and muffled moans and whimpers, only to be eventually followed up by arguing, yelling and what he assumed to be, shit being thrown around the room. All of that at 1:34 AM.
Now, he slouched back into the red cushions of his couch, letting the pillows pull him in as he ran a hand through his auburn hair, knowing it probably looked like a bird's nest by now. After a long day of dispatching, the last thing he wanted to do was to stay up even longer for no apparent reason, eyes boring into the chunky TV crackling in front of it.
He thought it'd been a pretty good deal, only $25 at the time of purchase for a TV which was just a little old – he preferred the term 'vintage'. Though as he'd finally started using it, the reason as to why it was so cheap became apparent a lot quicker than expected; it wasn't just because it was old.
Anytime he wanted to change the channel, he had to hit the remote against his knee first, and everytime he started the damn thing up, he had to adjust the antennas sticking from the top of it so that one wire was almost flat down facing the South of Torrance, and the other tilted East. Every two hours, the screen would also flicker into a sudden sheet of static, crackling and glittering in black and white dots which could only be stopped by a firm punch to the back of the box that framed it. Not to mention the fact the audio sounded as if the speakers had been drenched in water beforehand. He was honestly shocked it hadn't exploded on him yet.
Still, he tried to romanticise the bland life he had with whatever he could get, trying to convince himself that staying up on a Friday night with a ridiculous downpour of rain hitting his windows behind a buzzing TV was some sort of gloomy aesthetic people would kill for.
With the TV all set, the dispatcher tried to pay attention to the old film humming along the screen; '12 Angry Men', some old black and white classic as it appeared to be. Robert was no film nerd, hell, he could barely sit through one on a daily basis and not because he got distracted easily or anything, but because he usually ended up falling asleep. More often than not, he found himself passing out when he didn't want to and yet being fully awake when he did want to. Life was cruel.
About twenty-five minutes beforehand, he'd accepted the fact he wasn't getting any rest soon enough, leading him to make the smart decision of wasting more money than he had to order a pizza from some local place he'd never visited before. He'd only heard of them because of the constant flyers they'd send through his door advertising the place: '24/7, pizza as good as Heaven' or whatever shitty slogan they had plastered onto the page. He'd given up trying to discern what the fuck that had even meant.
Glancing down at the leaflet, his eyes skimmed over the notes from the owner, not really absorbing the information, more so just watching the letters as he waited for-
Ding.
His head flickered to the doorway, taking note of the shadow creeping underneath it. Fucking finally. With a heavy exhale, the man used what might he had to heave himself from the couch begging him to stay, letting the pizza pamphlet take his place against the cushions.
It felt as though his stomach had been punching Robert from the inside out, tormenting him with the constant nagging for food since he'd ordered the pizza. Sometimes he really thought his body had a mind of its own, bullying himself to get what it wanted. That, or the fatigue was genuinely making him lose sanity to the point where he was blaming anything that wasn't his conscience for his hunger.
As his feet dragged to the doorway, he made sure to swipe his wallet from the kitchen side, well aware of his state in boxers and a white t shirt but he'd given up caring a long time ago. Still, he didn't miss the muffled yelling emitting from the room down the hall, taking note of the stomps echoeing through the floorboards as he prayed this shit would end soon.
As the doorbell rung again, he swung the door open, glancing at the wet delivery driver who'd managed to keep his pizza warm in a waterproof bag. It was there he realised that maybe he didn't have the cruelest life in the world.
"Thanks man, have a good night." He uttered with a small smile of both gratitute and slight pity, rummaging in his wallet for a tip before pulling out all he had left; three one dollar bills. His eyes glanced awkwardly from the money to the driver's underwhelmed face, watching him take the cash with a grunt before slinking off down the hallway without a word. He really needed to get more cash in hand that wasn't strictly for the SDN vending machine.
With a brief sigh, he watched the delivery driver turn the corner and head down the stairwell, leaving a damp trail behind him similarly to Waterboy. As he went to turn back into his apartment, Robert accidentally let the wallet slip from his fingers, seeing it hit the floor. As if his back pains couldn't get any worse.
Begrudgingly, Robert held the pizza box in one hand before crouching down, fingers reaching out for the brown wallet which he managed to swipe again. Just as he took hold of it, his attention was averted to the room down the hallway which had been making the ruckus all evening, watching as the front door swung open and a man wearing nothing but his boxers was pushed out of the doorway, clutching black sweatpants, a firey hero suit and boots whilst long hair cascaded over his should-
Wait, a firey hero suit?
Immediately, Robert's eyebrows knit together and his lips slightly parted as he took note of the tall figure down the hallway. The dim, faint glow of the overhead lights gave Robert little to work with, but he didn't miss the pattern etched into that hero suit, eyes fixed on the way the man reached back forward, slamming his fist against the door of the apartment as accented yells erupted through the hall,
"-QOQH RODAH, YOU THINK YOU'RE THE SHIT? Fucking.. fffuck!" The man kicked the base of the door before dragging his hand over his face, turning to the side and pausing as he locked eyes with the crouching Robert.
...Immediate silence filled the space between them.
Just blank staring. Back and forth. Both in their underwear. At 1:40 AM.
"..Well, this couldn't get any more awkward." Robert uttered, breaking the thick air between them as he pushed himself back to his feet with a grunt, both the pizza and wallet in hand.
Despite his prior complaints about consistent sound and yelling coming from down the corridor, the sudden silence felt somehow worse and made Robert honestly wish that he hadn't wished for silence.
Seeing Flambae without his hero suit on was the equivalent of seeing a teacher outside of school as a kid, only this felt even more wrong. Maybe because he was in his underwear, maybe because Robert now knew who was having rough sex down the hallway, maybe because he was also in his boxers and just a t-shirt, who the hell could say. All he knew that this was not what he expected on an average Friday night.
With a scoff, Flambae held the clothes closer to himself, slowly walking down the corridor with narrowed eyes, refusing to look away from Robert who leaned against the door frame, mirroring his gaze as they both eyed each other down.
What grasped Robert's attention though was the red print marked around Flambae's neck, becoming more prominent under the lighting closer to Robert's door, "..Rough night?" He half joked, quirking a brow at him with both curiosity and slight concern.
Flambae glanced down at the pizza box sitting against Robert's palm, a slight grimace flickering across his features for a moment before he looked back down the hallway, which now seemed a lot longer than when he first arrived.
His hair wasn't tied up, it was almost matted, resting over his shoulders and neck in thick knots and tangles. It was almost uncanny, witnessing the man so.. unruly for once. The most Robert had ever seen were a few strands of hair falling loosely from his ponytail after a mission, but nothing excessive like this.
"..One way to put it." He uttered in response, chewing on his inner cheek as he shuffled on the spot, shifting his weight from one leg to another in clear discomfort. Robert couldn't help but almost feel sympathy for the guy – almost.
What made those feelings more prominent, though, was the reminder of the heavy rain pouring outside, made evident by the rumble of thunder growling from outside. The delivery driver from before had shown just how pitiful the weather was out there, what with his drenched state, and Robert couldn't help but try to imagine Flambae's clearly.. dishevelled form struggling to get home in it.
He wasn't stupid, he paid attention to his heroes and knew damn well he couldn't fly home in that shit. Light rain was fine, but a full blown storm? He could hear the rain from the middle of the building, that in itself told him that this was no simple trickle of precipitation.
Clearing his throat, he snapped back into reality and saw Flambae walking down the corridor, or, at least trying to. He practically limped with each step, body tilted off to the side whilst he tried to manage the collection of clothes he'd been given, nearly dropping a boot before catching it in time with a grunt.
"Hey-" Robert called out before he could even think to do otherwise, immediately mentally face palming himself as he watched the way Flambae looked back over his shoulder at Robert, brows tightly knit together as he expected some sort of bullshit from him.
He knew he shouldn't do this. He knew it wasn't necessarily professional, but, well, he wasn't in work mode now that it was the weekend. And when had the Z-Team ever been professional? He was simply looking out for his teammate, right? It wasn't everyday you see your coworker a physically drained mess, "You, uh.. You should come in. It's not safe out there." He finished, jerking his head in a gesture towards his apartment where the quiet sound of the TV continued to echo.
Knowing damn well Flambae's car had been destroyed by Phenomaman's depressive episode, the only way Flambae was surely planning on getting home was either flying, which would be practically impossible and a death wish in this weather, or by walking, which again, would be the stupidest thing he could attempt right now.
He watched Flambae contemplate it, practically seeing each gear turn in his head as he tried to figure out if Robert had any underlying intentions. God forbid he didn't know whether or not to immediately trust the guy who cut his fingers off.
No, he knew he wasn't plotting anything weird. If anything, Flambae felt like the weirdo – invading Robert's space in his underwear, clearly after having had a shouting contest and sex. Surely he'd be.. What was the word.. a burden?
Still, he exhaled with a brief eye roll and turned fully to face Robert once more. With slight hesitance, he dragged his feet forward, watching as Robert stepped to the side with a palm holding the door open.
"...Just until the rain clears." Flambae grunted, voice hoarse as he slipped into the room.
Robert raised a brow in response, a chuckle of disbelief huffing from between his lips as he gently shut the door behind him, padding over to the kitchen side where he let the pizza box and wallet sit.
He knew Flambae wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he wasn't surely this stupid? Right?
"Yeah, you might be staying a while then." He hummed, glancing up to see the other staring through the glass door of Robert's apartment balcony, taking note of the pitch black sky which had been fully coated in a dark sheet of storm clouds, occassionally broken up by the flicker of lightning forks spiking down into the world below.
A quiet huff of frustration was dragged from Flambae's lungs as he dumped his clothes on the floor, briefly peering over his shoulder every now and then as he shuffled the sweatpants on. He didn't miss the new interior decorating within the once empty living space, briefly touching the top of the chunky TV with an almost silent scoff.
He'd critiqued the place before many times and whilst he still felt the impulse to, he held back in respect for the fact he'd been let in here in the first place. Just for the time being, though.
"...Well.. Do you have a shower that i could, ah, maybe use? Just.. quickly?" Flambae shifted, letting his hero suit and shoes sit in a neat pile within the corner of the room before he turned back to look at Robert, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if he were suddenly a lot more self aware of his exposed state.
Robert hummed in response, flicking the lid of the pizza box open before heading out of the open kitchen towards a white door. Pulling the handle down, he gently pushed it open and clicked the soft light on, revealing the shower inside.
Flambae nodded and awkwardly shifted across the front room, reaching out for the open door which he slipped past, "..Thanks." he uttered with a grunt, his hair still in absolute knots against his scalp.
"There's a comb on the sink in there if you need it." Robert added as the door eventually closed. He didnt need to know what Flambae was showering for, having a feeling that he already knew why.
With an exhale, Robert left the pizza box for a moment, pulling himself into the front room where he crouched once again, picking up the pile left in the corner. It was just his hero suit and shoes – he always wondered if they were connected as one, but clearly they weren't. Shrugging his shoulders, Robert carried the pile to his bedroom. Was it slightly too much putting them in here? Well, considering he had no bed yet, he assumed not. The 'bedroom' was basically just a room with a cupboard and shelf.
Opening said cupboard, he couldn't help but grab a hanger, sliding the suit onto it neatly before heading back out and hanging it over the door handle, ensuring Flambae knew it was waiting for him and was alright in here. For his boots, he placed them beside his own near the front entrance, making the place look almost domestic instead of depressing.
With his attention back to the pizza, Robert headed over the the steaming box and peeled a slice from the cardboard, watching the grease wetten the surface of the cheese-coated dough before dripping off in beads, dampening the cardboard beneath it. Disgusting, truly. Despite it all, he couldn't help but take a large bite.
With his forearms leaned across the countertop, he stared at the TV which continued to showcase that old black and white film which he'd already forgotten the name of. Just as he began chewing on his first bite did he suddenly hear the sound of soft whimpers coming from beneath him.
Of course, Beef sat there desperately staring up at Robert with eyes the size of golfballs, whining as if he hadn't eaten in days, the poor thing. Robert couldn't help but succumb to the silent act of clear, total suffering and absolute despair being given by the dog, making him peel a piece of pepperoni from his slice, dropping it for Beef who caught it in his mouth, "Yknow, you're getting better and better at acting, dare I say, you could win a few Oscars from this thing you got going." He teased, leaning over to ruffle the little guy's head.
---
After a good fifteen minutes, Flambae emerged from the bathroom, letting a waft of steam puff out of the doorway behind him, making a real grand entrance. He managed to divert his hair away from the water as much as possible, also having managed to untangle a lot of the knots that matted it. Which, to be fair, wasn't the easiest when he had just a comb and no actual brush.
With his sweatpants on, he glanced around the apartment and relaxed once spotting his hero clothes, glancing over to Robert's resting form against the couch with Beef laying contently in his lap.
Without second thought, Flambae shuffled over there too and flopped onto the free half of the couch, stretching out as he did with a hum, clearly a little bit more himself again now that he'd.. freshened up, "Good shower?" Robert asked, mouth half full with his last slice of pizza as he glanced to Flambae, seeing his hair act as a sheet covering his chest, neck and shoulders the best that it could, though Robert couldn't help but spot the teeth indent and reddish-purple blotch etched against the near back part of his shoulder. For now, he'd keep his mouth shut.
Flambae nodded and cleared his throat in response, eyes scanning the living room before landing on the tall, green lamp standing in the corner nearby the TV, making a smile ghost across his lips, tugging the corners of them up slightly before he cleared his throat.
"Mm.. I've had better." He retorted with a hum, dragging his fingers through the lengths of his hair in an attempt to work through the rest of the knots residing within it.
Occasionally, he'd glance to Beef sitting on Robert's lap, taking note of the way the dog eyed him with his tongue hanging out, giving him some ditzy expression which Flambae couldn't exactly decipher.
Meanwhile, Robert rolled his eyes as the other responded, a smirk overtaking his neutral expression as he absorbed Flambae's words with unsurprised disbelief. Of course he'd had better, nothing from Robert could be perfect, could it?
As he went to pet Beef, he took note of the plate sitting beside him on the arm of the couch, making him quickly pick it up.
"Almost forgot.. here, I left some for you. Actually pretty good pizza, you seen the place? Local. Uh.. oh, here's the flyer, ignore the.. shitty slogan." He hummed as he insisted the plate into Flambae's hands, placing the leaflet beside him too.
Robert didnt miss the way Flambae's lip curled in disgust at the sight of the slices of pizza leaving pools of grease against the plate, eyes studying the food with disdain before glancing over to the flyer, scanning the words briefly before scoffing in response.
"The fuck does that even mean-"
"I'm still trying to work that out myself. Its not bad pizza though, really, you should try it. I promise it wont bite." Robert hummed and leaned back against the couch, seeing the way Flambae cleared his throat and placed the dish on the arm of the couch, swallowing and chuckling hollowly in response.
"Yeah, no. I dont eat fatty foods like that – you've seen my body, right? So.. you should know." The firestarter nodded, going to hold the plate back out towards Robert who rolled his eyes and glanced towards the red print around Flambae's neck once more. He quickly averted his attention though, attempting to ignore the elephant in the room
"Bull. Shit." Robert retorted with a scoff and a smirk, tilting his head sideways at Flambae.
But again, his eyes kept flickering to the mark across his throat. It was normal to give a fuck about his coworkers, especially seeing when they might be hurt. Well.. sure, it certainly sounded like rough sex was going on down the hall, but the fact it'd been followed up by a whole lot of arguing and yelling only increased the amount of concern Robert was feeling. He'd have to clear the air too, he couldn't keep staring at his neck forever, especially now that Flambae had noticed his look, making him continue talking, "I've seen you eat tacos, you don't have to lie and act like a total health freak." He finished with a knowing smirk.
The hero scoffed in response, taking note of the fact Robert refused to take the plate back from him. It was true, they'd all eaten tacos together after that brawl out against the Red Ring at the Sardine.. Right before Robert had revealed his true identity.
Sometimes Flambae wondered what would've happened had Robert not revealed the truth, kept it hidden. It'd surely get round to him eventually, and whilst he'd been fucking furious in the moment, he was honestly glad he'd told him. It made it easier for him to get over it.
Well, not fully, he still had two fucking fingers missing, but emotional healing was still happening. The fact Robert had told him the truth all those months ago now is what made him feel comfortable enough to sit in his apartment after having been kicked out of someone else's.
"That's like- like, fully different. It was a cheat day!" Flambae insisted with a grunt, rolling his eyes before placing the plate down beside him once more, arms crossing over his chest as he watched the way Robert chuckled and nodded with pure disbelief, leaning back into the couch.
To be honest, he didnt even need to watch the other to have the exact picture of his smug face engraved into his mind. He was predictable more often than not, yet he never failed to infuriate Flambae.
"If you wanna go with that, sure, but you don't have to lie around me yknow, this is a safe space. Cheat day or not, I'm the last person to judge." The dispatcher teased, gently nudging Flambae's bicep with his elbow.
Even if he was joking about the ridiculousness of Flambae putting on a front regarding unhealthy foods, it was obvious there was a hint of something else beneath that top layer. Something a little more serious, highlighted by the way his eyes kept flickering to his throat.
And Flambae wasn't an idiot, contrary to popular belief, he was able to pick up on subtle hints like that with a full understanding of what Robert was thinking. Even if Robert wasn't being blunt about it, he was clearly dying to ask about what had happened in that room, he was just being careful about it. Honestly, it was starting to piss Flambae off, how subtle he was trying to be.
"Right, a 'safe space', much safer than that room down the hall, right?" Flambae finally cut into the air thickening between them, turning his head to face Robert, catching sight of the others eyes flickering up to meet his after having been staring at his neck once again, "Stop fucking staring and talk like a normal person." The hero huffed, continuing to drag his fingers slowly through his own hair, trying to untangle the knots.
Robert nodded with an exhale, raising his palms briefly in defense before staring back forward at the shitty TV screen, trying to find the words to say. Usually, he was so quick witted, but seeing Flambae's skin like that seriously threw him off. With furrowed brows, he relaxed his shoulders after a heavy huff of air escaped his lips once more, finally going to ask about it.
"..You can't blame me for being concerned, right? I mean, I've been kept up all night by whatever shit was going on in that room, just to find out it was you in there? Do you actually know the guy down there or did you break into the wrong apartment, thinking it was mine?" He looked back over towards Flambae, adding a lighthearted edge to the end of his words in an attempt to ease the tension between them.
Still, Robert found himself almost glad that the storm outside continued as it broke the possibility of there being any outdrawn silence between them, providing the sound of rain hitting the windows, thunder erupting and cracks of lightning. He couldn't help but be continuously drawn to watch it, taking interest in the storm flashing across the Torrance sky before the reflection of the two of them in the sliding glass door pulled his attention back to the situation at hand.
"Hilarious. No, we.. met on Grindr. We both wanted to hook up, alright? I didnt know it was the same apartment block as yours, all the ones on this street look fucking identical.." Flambae scowled under his breath, eyeing the pizza with disdain.
It was true, Robert thought back to the time Chase had walked into the wrong place under the assumption it was his own. He really needed to decorate the outside more, maybe hang up a banner saying 'Residence of Robert Robertson III', just to make sure everyone knew.
Robert nodded and quirked a brow, trying to encourage Flambae to keep explaining, which only made him huff in response, "..It was consensual choking, alright? I didn't get the crap beat out of me- pft, as if he could anyways. Fucking stick figure." He scoffed under his breath with a smug smirk, leaning back into the couch and playing lightly with his hair. Robert lightly chuckled in response, tilting his head to the side.
"You've had enough encounters with me to know that anyone could beat the crap outta you." Robert smirked, glancing to Flambae's fixed teeth which only made the other grunt in response.
Everyone at SDN was well aware of Flambae's whole.. arrogance? Superiority complex? Whatever you wanted to call it. Robert was just the only one who put him in his place, much to the firestarter's distaste. Despite that, Robert could tell that at times, Flambae needed those grounding moments, even if it was somewhat humiliating. He couldn't live with a giant ego forever; besides, it was obvious to everyone that it wasn't fully authentic.
"Shut the fuck up. This is different." Flambae scowled, tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch, "...Anyways.. yknow, we had some kinky shit going on. Which is why the..." He gestured to the red print around his neck, ".. Then after, I assumed I'd be staying the night cuz of the storm, yknow. Well.. fucking asshole had other ideas. Kept denying his fucking sexuality, post-nut clarity caught up fast and he wanted me out as soon as possible. I told this bitch that i literally couldn't get home, he didn't give two shits. Threw me out like fuckin garbage." He finished with a grunt, looking off to the side with narrowed eyes.
Robert couldn't help but stare, practically inspecting him as he listened to the story. He never personally engaged with dating apps, but with the shit that just happened to Flambae, he felt even less interested in them now. He acted like he could handle himself, like he had everything under control – because of his pyrokinesis, most likely. But just based off of his demeanor, Robert could tell it wasn't always that simple. The guy was hurt. His sudden interest in staring at the wall instead of Robert showcased that.
"..And are you regretting it?" He asked slowly, testing the waters with how far he could talk to Flambae about this.. almost vulnerable topic. He could get defensive fast and the last thing Robert wanted was for him to storm out into the rain.
Flambae's eyes flickered to his own for a moment before rolling, roaming back over to the black and white TV screen as he contemplated his answer.
"It is what it is. It's fine now, I'm in here with you, so.." He ran one of his hands along his chest beneath his long locks, fingers gently grazing over the teeth indents within his skin before he cleared his throat and corrected himself before Robert could retort, "I'm in here. Not outside. Thats why it's fine."
Robert smiled subtly in response, eyeing his lap and Beef that resided against it as he acknowledged Flambae's words, knowing what he meant deep down. It was good having a place to stay that wasn't in the storm, but it was even better that he had company alongside that. Even if he didn't want to admit that it was Robert who provided that sense of companionship.
For Robert, his confidant for the past few years had been Beef – they were practically never seen apart from one another. But did Flambae have someone like that? Yeah, Prism was around, but the dispatcher didn't know the extent of their friendship; if it was an absolutely unbreakable bond or what? Sue him for caring about the other, god forbid he didn't want him feeling isolated.
"Uh huh, I'm just chopped liver, right?" Robert joked with a hum, noting the quiet scoff that escaped Flambae despite the tiny smirk tugging his lips up. With a hum, he continued, "No but really.. I'm not trying to patronise you or anything, but i think you should just.. be a little more careful on apps like Grindr and stuff. There's all sorts of people on dating apps, and if you were in an apartment complex that didn't happen to be mine tonight, then.." He trailed off with a shrug, letting Flambae fill in the gaps.
The hero glanced to his lap, drumming two fingers against his knee as the faint hum of the TV filled the space around them before Flambae quirked a brow, glancing back to Robert with an aroma of smugness surrounding him
"Does Bob Bob care about me? Is that what this is about-"
"Yes." Robert interrupted bluntly, staring straight at Flambae and reaching his fingers out to hold his chin, ensuring that he faced him too.
He watched the way his smirk contorted and twitched into an awkward sense of neutrality, his eyes ever so slightly softening as he absorbed the simplicity, yet meaningfulness, within Robert's words and tone. He wasn't just saying this shit for the sake of it, or because he felt the need to as his work superior, but because he actually gave two fucks about his wellbeing and what he did in his free time.
As they stared at one another, the background sound of the TV talking felt as though it was just white noise, almost silent now as their eyes locked together. They were trying to figure each other out. Robert's eyes dove into Flambae's and vice versa, yet for some reason, it felt like the hero was being read way more easily, like an open book that was physically unable to be shut. He gently scoffed in response with a faint nod,
"...Yeah.. Well.. I'd fucking hope so." He uttered under his breath whilst finally pulling his face back, glancing away; still, Robert picked up on the tone of uncertaintly laced through each letter that rolled off his tongue.
As he looked back off to the side, he shifted against the couch whilst bringing a slice of pizza to his lips, taking a soft bite into the fluffy dough and pulling a string of cheese away from him as he did so. Robert couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of him finally giving in, it was a showcase of his tranquility being made more prominent by Robert's reassuring words, soothing the other into feeling a sense of solace around him for once. Bonding.
"Uh huh, are you aware of the term 'humility' yet, or is that too complex of a word for you?" Robert teased with a hum, watching the other relax against his couch, it was as if they'd been living here together for years.
With every bite and swallow Flambae took of the pizza, Robert noticed the small smirk against his lips, the glint of gratitude within the reflection of his amber eyes, the thought of thanks he couldn't bare to speak but still conveyed to him through two familiar words;
"Fuck off."
He almost wished the storm wouldn't eventually end.