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A new nervous habit of Flambé’s was running his tongue over the gap in his teeth. A characteristic gained from the “intense battle” with Mechaman. With… Robert Robertson of all people. The most mundane normie he could think of was the same guy piloting the tin can that took off part of his hand. It almost felt impossible, but intrinsically Flambé knew and excepted the truth from Robert himself.
Maybe part of the reason he was able to accept it so easily was because Robert just knew how to press all his wrong buttons. It was driving him practically insane. Every time he heard that monotone voice laced in sarcasm cut in over his comm, he could feel his pulse involuntarily quicken. Flambé might not have been the most rational person in the first place, but something about that normie set him off. Even before his knew his real identity.
Flambé jutted his tongue onto the gap, he tended to do this habit whenever he thought of Robert. Thought back on how betrayed he felt. Betrayed? Yes, betrayed. Contrary to belief, Flambé weirdly liked their interactions. He hated Robert with a burning passion, but that passion encompassed something else as well. What? Not even he understood entirely himself.
It wasn’t like he was head over heels or anything. It wasn’t like he would hang on to each syllable Robert would say gruffly to him and think about it long after. It wasn’t like he cared who Robert hung out with outside of work, as if he’d want to join right? It definitely wasn’t like he actually liked Robert to some capacity, because that would mean he liked Mechaman…
“Flambé, are you listening? Don’t tell me you’re starting random fires again.” Speak of the devil.
“Shut up, I know how to do my job robo-bitch.”
“Wow, did you come up with that one yourself? Clever. What is your obsession with calling me a bitch anyways?”
“I just say it how it is Robert.”
“He’s got a point.” Chirped Invisigirl, jumping into their conversation.
“Good to know, get back to work. And Flambé I need you to-“ , he then droned on an assortment of orders for Flambé to carry out. The day carried out much the same, but Flambé couldn’t quite get Robert off his mind. Deep down he hopes that it’s just because he constantly has to hear the guy talk. That maybe when he gets home and unwinds, he can finally escape the man plaguing his mind.
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Once home, Flambé immediately goes to his fridge to get a bottle of Sangria. He felt weirdly tense the whole day, probably because he was thinking of Robert so much…. He grabbed a wine glass and filled it all the way to the top, not even bothering to add ice knowing it would be gone soon anyways. He sauntered over to his recliner, draping his whole body into it dramatically.
For a moment he had peace and quiet…
Then his phone blared some obnoxious ring tone, of course. Irritated, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and answered without needing to see who it was.
“Are you good?” Prism, strait to the point as always.
“Yes, I am fine. Now don’t bother me again tonight.”
“Hey, you are lucky to have me concerned about your sorry ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were in an another world today dude. I’m pretty sure Robert was going to have a stroke if he had to redirect you again.”
“Good.”
“Are you still pissed off at him revealing his identity?”
“Am I still missing two fingers on my right hand?”
“Whether you like it or not, Robert has always been Mechaman. He’s still the same guy you thirsted after-“
He hung up the phone. He really didn’t want to talk about it.
The sangria was gone in seconds as he knocked it back. It wasn’t an intense drink like whiskey or vodka, but all alcohol burned going down for him. Maybe it was a side effect of his power? He didn’t really know or care. What he did care about was how comfortable and exhausted he was. He could feel sleep lull his conciseness away…
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A sudden knock of the door jolted him awake. Pissed, he stormed to the door. He swung it open so hard, it was practically coming off its hinges. All to reveal the current bane of his existence, Robert Robertson. He looked down a him with a grimace, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Good to see you to.” Robert walked in as if he owned the place.
“No, seriously. What the hell are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?” Because it didn’t make any sense?
“Do you uh… Have a moment? I wanted to come and apologize. For… Everything.”
Flambé wanted to press further, but the words died in his mouth the second Robert apologized. An apology he’s so desperately been waiting to hear since he knew Robert was Mechaman.
“I know just an apology won’t cut it. But I’ll start there.” He stepped towards flambé , mere inches away. Not a moment did he break eye contact, those rich brown eyes felt as if they were boring into Flambé’s very own soul.
“What- Are… Are you serious?” Hope crept into his tone as he stepped closer towards Robert. Their bodies mere centimeters apart. It was tantalizingly intimate. His heart hammered in his chest, making him dizzy with overwhelming emotion.
Robert didn’t back away, rather he leaned in closer, pressing his chapped lips onto Flambé’s very own. Initially, he wanted to shove Robert to the ground. Yet, it felt so natural. He knew it was wrong, but God did it feel right.
Robert pulled away first, looking off to the side awkwardly. “Sorry- I shouldn’t have-“ Flambé then grabbed the back of his head, tugging him back into a messy kiss. This time more eager, hungry even. Flambés hot tongue licked the underside of Robert’s bottom lip. He could feel Robert’s faint gasp part his mouth. Taking advantage of this, he slid his tongue in.
Flambé half expected Robert to taste bitter and was shocked to find he tasked rather sweet. Overwhelmingly sweet, like the vanilla frosting from the Twinkies and donuts he eats all the time. Robert placed his hands against Flambé’s chest, neither pushing him away or bringing him closer. But his eagerness to reciprocate the deep kiss wasn’t lost.
Then he felt Robert swipe his tongue over the gap in his teeth. It was an odd sensation that struck a nerve. Not enough to stop the momentum, but just enough to make him vindictive. He pulled away for a moment, panting. He almost forgot to breathe, so lost in the warmth of Robert’s mouth.
“That is your fault you know.” Before Robert could respond, flambé leaned his head down beside Robert’s neck. He huffed, feeling Robert shiver beneath him. Then bit down, hard.
“Holy shit!” Robert gripped Flambés back, digging his fingers painfully into his shoulder. Flambé pulled away just enough to look at the deep mark left in plain sight, the indents of his teeth still marred on Robert’s neck. He gave it a tentative lick, grinning when he head Robert hiss in pain.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re just getting what you deserve.” Flambé kept attacking his neck, leaving behind a trail of deep red marks from his ear to his clavicle.
“Fuck you…” but the venom in Roberts voice was strangled with desperation.
“Hah… Is that a threat or a promise?” Ideally Flambé would tear off Robert’s shirt, but it was never as easy or sexy as it was in fiction. So he took the time to unbutton each one, kissing farther and father down Robert’s sternum as more of his skin was revealed. He could feel against his lips just how hard Robert’s heart was beating against his chest. How affected he was under Flambés’s touch. He pushed Robert slightly to guide him backwards towards the wall.
Flambé kept going lower, until he finally reached the last button of Robert’s SDN uniform. He could see Robert’s physique in full glory. His taught wiry muscles covered in numerous scars varying shades of pink. As much as Flambé hated to admit it, Robert Robertson the III was hot. But then again, that’s probably why they’re in the situation they currently are in right?
He crouched down, face right by the zipper of Robert’s jeans. Looking up, he could see a deep flush spread over Robert’s face. Pupils blown wide with ecstasy, mouth parted and panting with swollen lips. The mess Flambé made of him was obvious and God did that turn him on. From the looks of it, Robert felt the same.
Flambé pulled Robert’s hips towards, lightly ghosting his face over the bulge in his jeans. Robert made no objection or move to stop flambé from going forward. Slowly, flambé unbutton his jeans. He used his teeth to grab the zipper, puling down to reveal Robert’s navy blue boxer briefs.
He was going to make a comment about how boring his underwear was and how it reflected him as a person, but the words died in his throat as he was face to face with the other man’s cock. It felt surreal, he never thought he’d actually get this far with Robert.
He let out a deep sigh, steadying himself. He pulled down Robert’s jeans so that they draped around his ankles. Flambé could see Robert’s happy trail in full glory. Leading from his navel, beckoning him to pull down the thin piece of cloth separating him from the most vulnerable part of Robert. So he did.
Robert’s cock practically sprung out because of how hard it was straining against the fabric. Twitching under the intense gaze of Flambé, it laid half hard by his cheek. Flambé could feel his own nerves coiling in the pit of his stomach with anticipation.
He grabbed Robert’s cock firmly, staring up right into the man’s eyes. Then he slid his tongue alongside the shaft of it.
“Hah- Fuck, Flambé.” Involuntarily Robert grit out at the sensation, burying his hands in flambés thick dark hair. Which only made Flambé all the more eager to continue. Just how far could he get Robert… Mechaman, to unravel? To be at his complete mercy.
He started with minimal touching, just enough to get a reaction but never enough to satisfy. He put a slight pressure at the base of his cock, flicking the head with the tip of his tongue. It was growing an angry, deep shade of red as it now stood upright on its own. Flambé let his thumb brush over a vain that jutted out, earning a few choice expletives from Robert.
“More- Damn it, you’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” Robert grunted out, something primal and needy. He fisted Flambé’s hair tighter, dragging his face into his pelvis. His hips surged forward, not with any real aim or accuracy. Just the sight and friction of his cock on the left side of Flambés face was enough.
“Shit- I didn’t expect you to be such a needy slut Robert.” A wide grin spread across Flambé’s face as he leaned into it.
“Shut it.” To hell with witty retorts when all the blood from Robert’s brain fled south. Flambé nuzzled at Robert’s cock once more before finally popping his lips over the tip.
“Ah- hah- fuck.” The noises spilling from Robert were like music to Flambé’s ears as the man got more and more incoherent. His hips jerked a little too fast, hitting flambé in the back of his throat. The man gagged, leaning back to get some reprieve as he sputtered.
“No- No wait, m’sorry. Okay?” Robert’s eyes were squeezed shut as he grimaced at the loss of sensation. Precum leaked slightly onto his abdomen, as it looked like he was going to burst.
Flambé leaned back in, closer than before. He brought his hands towards the backside of Robert, palming his ass tentatively. “Are you clean?”
Robert tilted his head back in a daze, “What?” He took a second, as if he were deciphering a foreign language. Then it clicked. “Oh… Oh” His faced brandished a new shade of scarlet. “Umm, yeah. I got a shower a little bit before coming here.”
“Good, let’s get somewhere a little more comfortable.” It was weird talking to each other so normally, but in the heat of the moment it didn’t really matter. They had other priorities. Robert kicked off his pants and ditched his shirt that was already hanging off his shoulders. Flambé got up himself, leading the way to his bedroom.
Unlike Robert’s own apartment, there was so much character in Flambé’s. It wasn’t pristine, but it was decorated in rich deep shades of burgundy and burnt orang in the decor. He had well-loved brown leather sofas and wine stained shaggy carpets. It felt like a real home and his room was much the same. He had a queen sized bed with a large orange duvet folded neatly on top.
“You make your bed?”
“I’m not a fucking heathen Robert. You don’t?” As he spoke, Flambé started taking off his own suit. The flame retardant material was always a pain in the ass to get off, but worth it considering how many nicer outfits have been sacrificed to Flambé’s sudden outbursts. Robert was simply to say, breathless.
Flambé’s suit already left little to be desired considering it was skin tight and revealed half his broad chest. Yet, there was still something special about seeing it revealed in its full glory. Flambé had some scars of his own, earned from long before he joined z team. Walking closer, Robert brushed his fingers across one on Flambé’s shoulder.
Curiously, he kept doing so. Flambé for once was quiet, letting Robert do what he wanted. Robert continued tracing his scars down his right arm until he was met with Flambé’s hand. He paused, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt.
“I was scared of dying. It wasn’t right, but I was so desperate.” Robert took Flambé’s hand into his, not taking his eyes off of what he’d done. “Not that it makes anything different, but I had to go to the hospital with heat stroke after that night. I thought it’d pass, but it felt like I was still roasting in that metal suit. It can handle a lot, but not prolonged directly like that.”
Flambé froze, not really knowing how to process those words. Emotions welled up within him like a wildfire, good and bad. “You’re still a bitch to me but- I understand. I’m not proud of what I’ve done either... I don’t forgive you entirely, but enough to maybe not want to kill you sometimes.”
“How eloquently put.” Robert sighed and dropped his hand, but not entirely put out.
Flambé chucked softly, “You’re also standing in my room completely naked and half-hard, so I don’t know what you want from me Robert. Time and place.”
“Right…Well it was an intimate moment.”
“Yeah, and I’m waiting for an even more intimate moment real soon.”
“And I’m the one who needs to read the room?”
“Do you not want to have sex?”
Robert let out hefty sigh, which he often did talking to Flambé. “Yes, I do…”
“Hey, you should be begging for it. You know how many men would kill to have a piece of this? You’re lucky Robert.”
Robert rolled his eyes, “Yes, I am SO lucky.” He steps close enough to hook his hands in the waistband of Flambé’s briefs. With a voice laced with mocking sweetness he begs, “Oh please Chad, take me now.”
What was supposed to tease Flambé only turned him on more. He gripped Roberts shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. Although it didn’t hurt, the suddenness still took the wind out of Robert. He choked out a gasp as Flambé pinned him down to the sheets.
Flambé tore out his own hair tie, letting his smooth curls cascade past his face. Robert hadn’t noticed before, but Flambés eyes appeared almost black with how dilated his pupils were. He was breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down. It wasn’t working. Flambé gripped Robert’s chin, his hands burning hotter than any normal person’s should. It was painful, but not entirely unwelcome Robert had discovered.
“Say it again. Beg for me, Robert. Say. My. Name.”
Robert was stunned to say the least, he almost couldn’t say anything at all. It was like a switch flipped. It was as if Flambé was trying to consume him, prey in the palm of a starving predator. An intensity hung thick in the air as his amber eyes bore into Robert’s soul.
So he gave in. It was not like Robert to beg, but in this moment he found himself at Flambé’s mercy. “Please Chad, I need you.” It probably wasn’t as needy as Flambé was looking for, but it was genuine. And from the looks of it, Flambé could tell. He pulled down his underwear to reveal his member in full.
“Jesus Christ- That thing is not going inside me.” Robert sputtered, backing up slightly. Much like Flambé’s built physique, it seemed he was packing also. No wonder why the guy was so cocky all the time, pun intended.
“Oh come on, don’t be- what’s the word… a wuss! Don’t be a wuss Robert, I know you can take it.” It had to be about seven inches, far bigger than any man Robert’s ever slept with. “Or you could go in about how big of a dick I have, I don’t mind.”
Robert bit the inside of his cheek, trying to steady himself. “You’re going to have to prep me first.”
“Yeah, no shit. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” Flambé sat back for a second, reaching for his night stand’s drawer. Leaning towards Robert once again, he had a light pink bottle of lube in one hand and a row of condoms in the other.
“We’re not using all of those just so you know.”
“Hey- Never say never.” Flambé squirted out a fair amount to strawberry flavored lube onto the two fingers on his right hand. He used he left hand to pull apart Robert’s legs, but enough to get clear access to his hole.
Robert hissed it the freezing sensation of the lube touching somewhere so private. Flambé didn’t even bother to warm it up in his hands. It didn’t take long for Flambé’s thick fingers to work the lube in. It was an odd feeling foreign to Robert, but he didn’t mind it.
“Not to sound like a bad porno, but you are so fucking tight. I thought with the stick you have up your ass, it’d be looser.”
“You know- I can’t say it turns me on when you say stuff like that.” Robert huffed out, the pressure getting to him. Flambé was able to work his fingers in, now curling them upwards.
“Hmmm, seems to be working just fine to me.” He found it. The tight little bundle of nerves wedged deep inside Robert. He choked out a groan as Flambé took that as his cue to keep doing it faster. “You know, I could prep you better if I had my whole hand.”
“Now is not the time Chad.” Robert was on his back, but he turned his head to bury it into the side of bed. His hands gripping fistfuls of Duvet while he struggled to stay coherent. His poor cock still straining untouched.
“Just- hah- do it already.”
Flambé clicked his tongue, slowing down his movements. “Now, now Robert. Is that how you ask?”
“Please Chad, I need you to be inside me. Now.”
It took all of Flambé’s self restraint to appear disinterested, fully taking his fingers out. He rolled Robert over, manhandling him with ease. Robert grunted as his chest slammed into the mattress, hard cock grazing the blanket beneath. He chased the friction beneath, aching for a sense of relief.
Flambé leaned his head down, positioning his face between Robert’s cheeks. He blew his hot breath over the sensitive area, causing it to eagerly twitch. Poking his tongue tentatively at the entrance, now he could taste the artificial strawberry of the lube. He plunged in, causing a low groan from Robert as the man buried his face into bed. Flambé made his motions purposefully slow, divulging in Robert getting more agitated.
“Fuck, hah- Please just- Please just fuck me already.” Robert rationally and dignity going to the wayside. Which is exactly what Flambé was looking for.
“As you wish~” Flambé ripped open a condom, rolling it on in a swift motion. He positioned his cock at the entrance of Robert, squeezing more frigid lube onto his target. Robert sucked in his breath, clutching down white-knuckled to prepare himself.
He slowly pushed his head in, letting out a content sigh as he was finally getting some stimulation. He waited a moment as Robert adjusted, squirming beneath him.
“Okay, okay- more.” Robert exhaled the breath he was holding. His voice was wavering slightly, marred with overwhelming need. Flambé took this as his go ahead, pushing deeper into tight heat of the man beneath him. He got in about halfway before stopping again, making sure Robert could handle it. He wanted to be rough , but not cruel.
He inched forward until Flambé was finally able to fit himself fully into Robert. He moved his hands to grip Robert’s love handles- or at least where they would be. He surged Robert forward, causing a deeper arch in his back as his ass was raised and chest pressed down. He slid out just enough to merit a disgruntled moan from the man beneath him, before slamming back with a more confident vigor.
It felt like forever to Robert as he was forced to face the unrelenting speed of Flambé’s desire. He pounded into him, each thrust harsher than the last. Robert’s voice amplified into garbled moans, failing to stifle them back.
Flambé’s tempo started to get more erratic, less directed. He was making some erotic noises himself, reveling in the mess of Robert Robertson the III coming apart. He rocked his hips slightly upward, making sure to hit Robert’s prostate unrelentingly. Robert keened, the tip of his cock oozing precum, leaving splotches beneath him.
“Oh- Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum- shit Chad, I’m gonna- hah ah-“ One last eager pump into Robert and he exploded, causing Robert to follow short after. He draped his large frame onto Robert, basking in the afterglow. “God, I wish this wasn’t a dream.”
Flambé lifted his head, confused. “What-“
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His alarm buzzed so loud it jolted him awake. It was a dream. An unrealistic one at that. Robert didn’t even know where he lived and he certainly wouldn’t have... Frustration coiled from the depths of Flambé’s mind, becoming a physical manifestation of sparks leaving his palms. “Fuck…” It was going to be an awkward day at the office tomorrow.