Despite everything he hopelessly wished for.
Flamebae understands perfectly well why he likes Robert.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Yes, his dimples and toothy grin were too cute. Yes, he was adorably pathetic in the same way a scraggly kitten found in a dumpster could be and yes, Flamebae understood how exactly he could rectify this disaster of a man to comply with his standards.
First issue of the matter was how thin and sullen the man looked, of course there was a four-month-long coma to blame for the loss in is muscles and strength. But that wasnāt a viable excuse now that heās able to feed him, train him and spoil him a bit. That little twunk of man was going to get some weight and be put back into shape for Flamebaes and only Flamebaes viewing pleasure (and for Robertās health allegedly)
Of course, Flamebae attempted to vaguely care for Robertās reactions to what he was doing. But in truth, the last thing he ever wanted was to make his dispatcher feel uncomfortable, so he was courteous enough to give him a way out.
āHey Bob-Bob, make sure you eat this before you pass out from malnutrition again you idiot.ā Robert feels an unmistakable and familiar heat emanate behind him as a Tupperware container lands in front of him on the lunchroom table. Feeling the fiery body of Flamebae loom over his form as he remains seated. āYouāre seriously not giving me your lunch, are you?ā Robert turns to face him, Flambaeās face fixed in its usual sneer, but something slightly uncreased in his brow when his eyes land back on the smaller manās face.
āNo. Itās leftovers. Donāt give any to your miniature cow.ā
He saunters out of the room without another word. Door slamming behind him. Outside, he listens to the happy sounds that Robert makes as he eats, everyone tries their best to hide their cackles as they witness the crimson blush that reaches from the tips of Flamebaeās ears down to the exposed plains of his chest.
The flood gates open, but itās somehow still nothing like how he expected.
Flamebae no longer crashes Robertās workouts just to gawk at him, instead they do it together, spotting and arguing with each other in equal measures. They find little restaurants across Torrance and Los Angeles when they both stay back late. Ā He witnesses Robert attempting to buy some new clothes for work and personally stylises his wardrobe to something more than just business shirts and sad pairs of hoodies and sweats.
āWhy do you do this for me Flamebae?ā
āThe workouts, the food and the clothes. You donāt need to feel obligated to be my saviour or feel personally responsible for my failures.ā
Flamebae canāt help but lovingly scowl at him, so wonderful and dense it makes him die and be reborn inside.
āTrust me Bob-Bob. Your personal failures are your own. I donāt want credit for that shit. What does matter is that you donāt end up as some sad, tasteless, loveless dweeb for the rest of your life. Thatās embarrassing for me, means I havenāt done my job properly.ā
Robert then lifts a brow, āWhat job exactly?ā
Flamebae rolls his eyes, āNot having a loser dispatcher telling me what to do duh."
Something inside him rejoices when Robert slowly learns not to push him away. To finally get that heās not an inconvenience to be around. Maybe, just maybe, heāll understand that he doesnāt want to change him fully. He just wants Robert to be happier, healthier more alive.
He knows this devotion is mostly one-sided. He knows that Robert thinks this is all too repay him for what he did as a Villian, heās willing to do all of this under the guise of redemption to spend time with the man. Heās just glad Robert never seems to mention or question any of it. Just quietly accepting whatever Flamebae gives him because heās too deprived and kind to refuse it.
But things start getting strange.
Robert invites him over to his place to watch shitty movies and trashy reality tv after bad days filled with unsuccessful shifts. Heās somehow notices when Flamebaes on the verge of an episode before he realises itself and pulls him away for a pep-talk-speech before he does something he regrets. Whenever Robert has good news, heās the first person he messages or calls when it happens.
It's wonderfully terrifying. Itās almost perfect. But heās too greedy, he wants more.
The weirdest part is when Robert starts getting sappy on him and itās starting to drive Flamebae insane.
The Z-team are taken to some black-tie special conference event. He helped pick out Robertās ensemble, he salivates at the sight of him but also wants him to stay sealed away from the public eye forever so no one can get their greasy mitts on him. His hard work has paid off, Robert is looking better then ever has, even better than his Prime of being Mecha man. He can see the lustful vultures circling around him, wanting a chunk of his dispatcher for themselves. Flamebae can feel the jealously surging through him, almost as powerful as the flames constantly dwelling and blazing within himself.
He lets Robert do as he pleases.
But he canāt bear to watch it as he does.
Flamebae sneaks away to some rich farts garden outside to hide clear his head.
For whatever reason Robert appears next to him. Breathless. as if he was running. He claims to have been running away from the demands of the drunken rowdy gaggle ex-criminals that he calls his friends/co-workers. Ā
The clear Californian sky glitters overhead, warm twinkling lights bathing the scrubs in greenery in a dazzling glow. They walk together side by side, their calloused hands brushing against each other with every other step they take in tandem. Robert stops at some strange red blooms.
Ā āWhy are you starting sad lumpy looking flowers? You wishing you could give them to your non-existent girlfriend? Thatās pretty depressing Bobert.ā He crowds into Robertās space beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, leaning his head down over his shoulder to match Robertās line of sight. Ā He has a small, contented smile on his face, an almost constant sight that never fails to make his heart buzz within his chest.
āTheyāre called Banksias. These flowers need fire to grow.ā
āAre you seriously bullshiting me? Flowers need water to grow. Where you not taught basic plant biology-ā
āNo! Seriously! I heard Mal talk about them. These are Australian flowers. During the summer months, the land becomes irritable and prone to forest fires. When the wildfires spread, the flames carry the flowers seeds. In the wake of the destruction. These beautiful, perfect things bloom through the ash. He- they bring life into something that is wholly undeserving of a second chance. Of anything.ā
Flamebae isnāt strong enough to handle the gentleness and reverence in his tone. The way his stupid face has softened into something so fond. His cheeks just the faintest pit red in the dim light. Earnest brown eyes turn back to Flamebae in the intention unreadable in the dark, his hand awkwardly scratching his neck.
āIt kinda reminds me of someone I know. Someone I care about enough that I know I canāt afford to hide it from him.ā
Oh, holy mother of fucking shit. This gorgeous, heartfelt idiot of a man wants him back.
He surges forward, one hand grasping onto Robertās tie and his other hand cradling his stubbly jaw and pulls Roberts lips above to his own. They are chapped from the cold, tasting slightly of champagne and pastry lingering on his tongue. The smaller man melts in his arms, pressing back into the kiss, his arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers digging into the fine fabric of his suit jacket.
Flamebae understood that wishes never got him very far.
If Flamebae could wish such a thing. Heās never wanted Robert to leave him for a second. Heād carve an empty place within himself where Robert could live within him. Cocooned and metamorphized as one. If he had his wish heād live in that moment forever.
Flamebae didnāt understand anything at all.
Every pressing of their lips was another wish destined to be fulfilled.
