Work Text:
Robert's first thought when he finally escaped his heat-haze was 'I need to buy a gun'.
He really wished heats came with some sort of memory-wiper. Built-in amnesia. Because remembering everything he'd done before succumbing to his heat...
Well. He really wanted to buy a gun.
His apartment was blissfully quiet, a lack of sound that only made Robert panic when he realized what it meant. He scrambled for his phone, only breathing easy when he saw the texts from Chase.
peepaw - Took Beef home with me. Don't bother trying to get him back, he loves it here.
Robert snorted, but the messages above Chase's made his stomach flip.
flamethrower - yo, rob-bob, feeling any better?
flamethrower - cause if you are, you owe me a fucking dinner
Robert put his phone down and groaned, running a hand through his hair. He was still covered in dried sweat and slick, and on his bed...
Yup. His toys needed to be cleaned, too.
He allowed himself a few moments of self-reflection, which consisted of him burying his head in his hands and chanting 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck', over and over again, before he sighed and made his way to the shower.
The heated water was heaven on his sore muscles---Robert took a moment to thank himself for finally bringing up the whole paycheck thing to SDN. His water and electricity were basically covered, and he could not only afford rent every month but could finally afford to furnish his 'sad, sad apartment', as Flambae called it.
He winced at the memory---burning hot lips on his scent glands, shoving his own face into the hero's neck and drowning in roasted cardamom, and warm, strong arms around him.
The reminder made Robert shudder, instinctively putting a hand to his neck to feel the familiar ridges. There was no mating bite, no claiming brand, and Robert was as relieved as he was disappointed.
He hated how needy he became when his heats came around. But when Flambae had called him out on it...
Robert shivered as he remembered the gush of slick as Flambae had muttered into his scent glands, pulling him to his chest. He hadn't had the heart to even fight back against the words, and that was the best---worst part.
God, he wouldn't be able to look the alpha in the eyes for a month after this. Or the rest of the team, considering Flambae had definitely told them already.
He genuinely contemplated quitting and living off of Chase just like Beef was undoubtedly doing, before banishing the thought from his mind. The old man had done enough for him already.
And he was pretty sure the team wouldn't be that mean. Mostly sure. Sixty percent.
As it turned out, Robert hadn't had to worry at all.
He'd braced himself for a slew of comments, but there was only concern from the Z-Team over his sudden disappearance. They were somewhat disappointed when they found out it was 'just his heat'.
"Aw, I had ten bucks on you getting into some sick business deals!", Sonar complained.
"Babes, do you mean pyramid schemes?", mused Malevola.
"They're not pyramid schemes, they're investment opportunities", shot back Sonar.
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, and then Flambae spoke.
"Leave him the fuck alone", Flambae grunted. "Probably tired as shit from all that, he doesn't need you fucking freaks going on about it."
"Ooh", Invisigal chimed in. "Feeling protective over our only omega, Flambae?"
"That's enough", Robert said dryly. "Invisigal, there's...an old lady who needs help crossing the street. Go help her, please. Without giving her a heart attack."
"Yeah, yeah", she laughed. "Old ladies love me, don't worry."
"Uh huh."
"So", came Prism's voice, teasing. "How'd you manage to get home, Rob? Going into heat at work is no joke."
Robert flushed at the memory, and silently assigned her the task of calming down a concert crowd. She complained into the headset, but Robert ignored her.
"That's the end of shift", he announced after fifteen minutes. "Enjoy your lunch, guys. You've earned it."
There was a slew of comments, but Robert slid his headset off before he could make out any of them.
His stomach was rumbling---he was always hungrier before and after his heat. Maybe he'd have three Twinkies today.
He swiped a ten dollar bill from Chase, grateful that at least the beta wasn't giving him too much grief. He was almost embarrassed that Chase had seen him hanging off the alpha, but honestly...Chase had seen worse.
He thought he was alone in the break room, but the sudden clearing of a throat made him jump.
Of course. Of course, because the universe hated him, Flambae was standing there.
Robert wasn't proud to admit it, but he panicked.
"Flambae", he said quickly, fidgeting with his money and avoiding his gaze. "Uh, hey. I was just leaving."
Flambae raised his eyebrows---finally grown back, thank god---and glanced down at Robert's wringing hands. "Without your twinks?"
"Twinkies", Robert hastily corrected him, eyeing the tiny space between Flambae and the door, still refusing to look at the alpha directly. "I, uh. Yes. I've just gotta, uh. Go."
He pointed lamely at the door, hoping against hope the alpha would just let him leave.
But of course, Flambae couldn't make it that easy.
He shrugged and sidled slightly to the left, only making the gap incrementally bigger. Robert grimaced, and the look on Flambae's face told him the alpha was fighting back laughter.
Robert scowled at him, the sudden anger giving him the courage he needed to actually look at the alpha. "Are you going to let me leave, or not?"
"Now that you've actually fucking looked at me, yes", Flambae chuckled, crossing the room to stand before him.
Robert averted his gaze again, breathing shallowly to try and hide how Flambae's scent affected him. He could feel his cheeks flaming, the traitorous things, but he really hoped Flambae wouldn't notice.
"I see", he tried to keep his voice as dry as possible. "Just wanted my attention, huh? I'm starting to see a trend here, Chad. You're awfully needy."
Aaaand there went his mouth, running without his permission. Flambae's eyes literally lit up, the alpha stepping closer as Robert swallowed.
"I'm needy?", the alpha all but purred. "You were the one rubbing on me like a fucking cat a few days ago, Bob-Bob. Mewling and everything, it was fucking cute as shit."
Robert swallowed again, trying and failing to meet his eyes. "I---well-!"
His jaw was grabbed, albeit gently, the alpha squeezing his cheeks together in a way that was almost affectionate. "What, hm? Can't admit how much you fucking wanted me?"
Robert frowned up at him, though he could feel the expression turning into a pout as Flambae squeezed him again.
"Or", the alpha continued, his tone turning serious. "Did you come to your fucking senses after your heat?"
"Come to my senses?", Robert echoed, the words garbled.
He...hadn't really thought about it like that. Really, the only thing he'd come to his senses about was taking an extra day off before his heat was supposed to arrive.
Robert tilted his head as best as he could in his hold, and nodded. "Y-Yeah, I won't come to work so close to my heat again. It's just that I---"
"No", Flambae sighed, leaning down and locking eyes with him. "I mean about wanting my fucking knot, Robert."
Robert nearly choked at that, and he glanced at the door again, almost pleadingly. "I---uh---"
"The fuck are you two doing in here?"
They jumped apart, quite literally, and Punch-Up laughed. "Like two startled cats, aye? Ye both looked like me and Coupe right before bed."
Robert opened his mouth to ask several questions, then shook his head and darted towards the door. "We were just talking, okay great job today, bye!"
He was out the door before he could hear what Flambae had said to the strongman, and the minute he was back at his desk, he dropped his head onto the flat surface with a long, drawn-out groan.
"That's what happens when you have shit taste", Chase offered helpfully over the divider.
"Fuck off, Chase."
He managed to get through the next shift with minimal crawl-into-the-ground embarrassment, hastily cutting off Punch-Up's mic every time he tried to bring it up.
At least, he hoped that was what the red button did.
Chase had no qualms about informing him about the spike in scent after seeing the alpha, and had all but insisted he hit the showers. Said he still 'kinda smelled like he was coming off his heat', which Robert couldn't argue with.
He was in the middle of studying the carpet pattern when he collided with a warm chest in the hallway. Strong hands steadied him at the waist, and when Robert glanced up, he was mortified to hear a sound resembling a squeak leaving his mouth.
Flambae just raised his eyebrows, running amber eyes down his body in a way that was not at all discreet. "Well? Made up your mind, Bobert?"
"About dinner, or...?", Robert winced at his uncertain tone, but he couldn't really play dumb anymore.
"They're the same fucking thing", Flambae scoffed. "I mean, you could have one without the other, but why the fuck would you want that?"
He continued, lips curling up at the corners. "After all, you said you wanted me for fucking months, Robert. You gonna deliver on that, or was that just sweet talk?"
Robert groaned, letting his head drop onto the firm chest in front of him. "Do you remember everything I said?"
"Burned into my fucking brain."
Robert frowned into his skin. "You did not just make a pun while we're talking about this."
"I did, Bob-Bob. Something to look forward to in your future."
"I mean", Robert squirmed. "Are...are you sure you want this? I know you were worried about what I wanted, but..."
He gestured down at himself, unable to meet the alpha's gaze. "I'm not exactly the ideal omega."
His chin was grabbed, lifted to meet burning amber eyes. "Oh, so you're in charge now, then? You think you get to fucking tell me what I want and don't want?"
Robert creased his brows, confused, and yelped as Flambae dragged him into an innocuous-looking janitor's closet. "W-What?"
"Last I checked", Flambae was all but growling. "I'm the alpha. Which means I am fucking sure as shit about what I want, Bobert. Don't try to put your shitty qualms on me."
"I'm serious", Robert insisted, his pulse picking up as Flambae stepped into his space, backing him up against the wall. "I mean---everything I said was true, but I..."
"I want you", Flambae cut him off, the barest hint of red blooming on his cheeks as the air around them heated up. "I fucking want you, okay? I want you with your stupid fucking posture, I want your stupid fucking dog, I want you and your stupid fucking bitchiness."
"I want to massage your fucking back pain away, I want to cook you a real fucking meal, and I want to let your stupid fucking dog run around my house and scratch up my furniture."
"Cats do that, not dogs", Robert supplied automatically, his mind still scrambling to catch up with Flambae's admission.
Flambae rolled his eyes, leaning slightly back. "Never mind. I tell you all that, and that's what you fucking say? This isn't gonna work, I take it back."
"You like me", Robert realized, albeit a little late. "Like, actually like me."
"What, do you want me to braid your hair and write you a fucking love letter about it? Did you hear anything I said?"
Robert was grinning dopily now, his scent filling the closet. "You like me."
"Jesus fuck", Flambae grumbled. "What, do I have to kiss you to shut you up?"
Robert stepped into his space, smirking up at him. "What happened to 'you're not my type'?"
"I was obviously lying", Flambae hissed through his teeth, his own pleased scent wrapping around Robert. "You gonna answer the fucking question?"
Robert grabbed the nape of his neck, dragging him down. But before their lips could meet, he found the junction between Flambae's neck and chest, rubbing against it happily.
He could feel Flambae's scent covering him, and when he lined their scent glands up and scented him like that, Flambae grunted, one hand shooting out to brace himself on the wall.
"Holy fucking shit", Flambae choked out. "Robert---"
His hair was grasped, Flambae tugging him to a better position and then running his lips over his scent glands. Robert felt himself melt with an embarrassing noise when Flambae nibbled at the sensitive skin, pleasure shooting through his brain and turning his thoughts to mush.
Flambae was muttering, and Robert strained to make it out. "Not the ideal omega, my ass. You're fucking perfect, Mecha-Dick. You can't even imagine all the shit I wanted to fucking do to you that day."
Robert shuddered. "You could show me."
Flambae gave him one more teasing nibble before pulling back. "Dinner first, Bob-Bob. Then I'll show you how I wanted to bend you over your desk and keep you on my knot while you assigned tasks to those freaks."
Robert whined, both at the loss of touch and the words, and grabbed Flambae's wrist and tugged him out of the closet, the alpha chuckling the whole time.