gay shit
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“She didn’t tell me she was sending the hot nurse.” His voice is low, raspy in a way Robert is sure is supposed to be seductive but sounds a little more like he swallowed sandpaper. He grins up crookedly, eyes shamelessly dragging over the column of Robert’s throat. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Robert blinks. Once. Twice.
He… he wasn’t expecting that.
Or,
Flambae is concussed and thinks Robert’s his boyfriend. Shenanigans ensue.
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“Robert, don’t look, but there’s a group of weirdos over by the window who bet me that I couldn’t get the number of, and I quote, ‘that gloomy twink at the bar’.”
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Z-Team unknowingly sends Robert’s ex to flirt with him, not knowing they already know each other, and Robert is all too happy to play along if it means his ex will split his winnings with him. But damn, when did the bar get so hot? Couldn’t have anything to do with Flambae looking like he’s five seconds from lunging over the table and killing someone, right?
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Overview: Canon Storyline with Flambae as love interest. Angst, sweet/smut, eventual fluff
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Invisigal accidentally outs Robert as Mechaman in what she thinks is a private conversation with Blonde Blazer, not realizing that Flambae is close enough to overhear her.
Struggling to control his horrible temper, Chad goes to the gym to blow off steam and think…where he finds Robert trapped under the weights.
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Breathe. Count to ten. You’re not a villain anymore…you’re a good man, and you can do good things.
“Ask me to stop,” Chad breathed, the muscles of his arms quivering under the powerful desire to end Mechaman right there in the headquarters. He needed something else, someone else to step in, but they were completely alone. Even the janitors had gone home. “No, beg me to stop.”
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Summary
One of the main characters - the only surviving witness to a murder - has just woken from a coma. Not only is she entirely cognizant, but the first thing that the subtitles say she asks for is a lawyer.
“What are you fucking giggling about?”
The other person that’s been paying attention is Flambae. He’s right next to Robert on the couch, his arm slung over the top behind his head. One foot is propped up on the other knee, also pointing towards Robert, which has him caged in the corner by the arm rest. It’s probably some fucked-up power move. Robert has been ignoring it just to spite him.
“It’s just not how comas work,” Robert shrugs.
“Right, and you know because you’re a fucking doctor,” Flambae quips back.
“I know because I was in one, asshole.”
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During a quiet night in, Robert realizes that his coma and injuries aren't common knowledge among Z-Team.
Most of them take the information in stride with jokes aplenty.
Flambae does not.
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Summary
It was a mistake to be both horribly drunk, and with a bunch of lovable ex-cons. More so than one that has unreconizable feelings towards him.
All he remembers was drinking, something involving flames, and him waking up after hearing a door slam (most likely his neighbors.)
It was not his neightbors, as he soon found out, months later, staring at a test.
Fuck.