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What club were they in?
What song was this?
What drink was he on now? 5? 6? He wasn’t really keeping track.
When the hell did he start dancing with this stranger?
He didn’t care. He was drunk, he was loose, and he had had a hard week. Sue him for wanting to dance a little.
A warm body was pressed against his; he didn’t care about what they looked like. He couldn’t tell anything about them at all, actually. All he knew was they were getting pretty hot and heavy against him, and he wasn’t exactly opposed.
Flambae watched.
Fuck.
He clenched the glass in his hand, watching him dance with a stranger like they were the ones fucking.
But they weren’t. He and Robert were.
That fucker didn’t get to see Robert as he undressed, always trying to hide his scars.
That fucker didn’t get to see what he looked like when he was begging and overstimulated.
That fucker didn’t know what it was like to have those long fingers wrapped around his throat, fucking him like he hated him.
He didn’t know. He didn’t get what Flambae got.
At least he hoped he wouldn’t.
What? No. He didn’t fucking care who Robert slept with. It was his life, after all. Why the hell would it be Flambae’s business?
But he definitely felt that burning in his chest as the man dancing behind Robert carrassed his hips, pushing him into him.
Malevola sat next to him.
“You good, dude?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. “You look a little… fired up.”
Flambae slowly turned his head to look at the demon. He blinked rapidly, staring at her yellow eyes.
“Sorry,” She apologised, smiling. “Seriously, though, what’s wrong with you?”
“It’s nothing,” He said, looking away and taking a sip from his glass. Robert looked like he was enjoying himself. Fuck, he hoped he wasn’t enjoying himself.
Not with how this morning went.
Robert had stayed the night, since Flambae took him directly back to his place after work. It had started to become something of a routine for them: Work, Robert came to his place, they fucked, Robert went home. But after their stressful evening shift, Flambae proposed that he just come directly back to his place. After having some incredible sex that night, Robert woke him up with his mouth on Flambae’s dick, sucking him off like he wouldn’t ever get the chance again.
It had started to become something of an addiction at this point. Neither of them could stop, even if they wanted to. They constantly needed another fix. Flambae was certain of it, with the way Robert never fucking left his brain, no matter how hard he tried. His spank bank was exclusively filled to the brim with memories of him, as infuriating as it was.
It had become… weirder in the month since they began this whole… thing. More… intimate. Robert’s praises were sweeter. The burns and bites on his legs and chest were worn like badges of honor. Like he wanted people to see. Flambae found himself wanting to put more and more on him. Just to show those fuckers that Robert didn’t need their pathetic little dicks, he had Flambae’s right there.
What?
No.
That wasn’t a thing.
He and Robert weren’t a thing. They’d established that. They were non-exclusive, just getting rid of the stress that plagued them during the day. They had very daunting jobs, after all.
That guy put his hand on Robert’s waist. Flambae thought he might break his tooth again. He took a big gulp of his scotch.
What if he burned this guy’s hair off? What if he left him with very uncomfortable burns on unfortunate places? The things he could do to him just for looking in Robert’s direction. He could see one of the large, purple splotches that dotted Robert’s chest, peaking out beneath his shirt. It’s like he was teasing him on purpose.
Robert could vaguely feel the warm hands on his waist. He could vaguely feel the hot breath on his neck. He could vaguely feel the way this stranger’s dick poked his back.
Half of his brain wanted to fill in the gaps with a certain sexy Afghan man. Wanted to feel the rough hands and imagine they could burn him in an instant, just because he could. Wanted the breath on his neck to connect to a mouth that would bite him, make him bleed, make him hurt in exactly the way he needed.
The other, more sensible half, decided it was stupid and that he was drunk.
He heard the man speak in his ear, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes focused across the room, finding that familiar orange color.
Staring.
Directly back at him.
His eyes were lit with something Robert didn’t have the heart to name. But he could tell what he was saying with them.
Stop dancing with him.
But Robert didn’t care. Why would he? He and Flambae made it clear that there was nothing but sex between them, and that was perfectly fine with Robert. Some good dick and emotional detachment were exactly the things that he needed.
So he just grinned, making Flambae look even angrier. He put his energy into dancing with this stranger, who seemed to really enjoy Robert’s newfound interest in him.
Flambae was ready to kill both him and the stranger.
Robert didn’t fucking care.
They stared at each other. Orange on brown. Flambae could feel his skin start to heat up. Robert could feel his heat from across the room.
Stop, His orange eyes commanded. Pleaded, even. But Robert didn’t want to. He wanted to keep riling Flambae up, see how far he could go before the Flaming Hero strutted over and knocked this guy's lights out. How far could he push him before he ended up getting a really good punishment back at Flambae’s place?
Come make me, His brown eyes shot back, with a hint of sarcasm and challenge.
Flambae rolled his eyes and looked down into his empty glass. He got up from his seat and approached the bar. Robert took that as his cue to follow. He thanked the man for the dance, who obviously wasn’t going to go any further than dancing with Robert. That was okay with him.
He approached the bar, standing next to Flambae.
“So what’s your problem?” He asked sarcastically, standing too close to just be friends.
“I don’t have a fucking problem, Mecha Bitch.”
“You only call me that when you’re about to punch me or fuck me,” Robert joked, looking in his eyes. “So which is it gonna be?”
His orange eyes flared, something Robert didn’t know he had the ability to do.
“You seemed so chummy with that other guy, why not go fuck him instead?” He said fast, beckoning the bartender for another drink.
“Are you fucking serious?” Robert’s smile dropped. “I don’t want to fuck him. That ever go through your tiny brain? That I’m not just some massive whore who puts out for anyone who calls me pretty?”
“It was the grinding that tipped it off for me, dumbass. And I wouldn’t give a fuck if you decided to go suck all of Torrence, it’s none of my business.”
“You certainly looked like you wanted to make it your business.”
“Well, I didn’t. You’re fucking seeing shit.”
“Oh, so if I go suck that guy's dick in the bathroom stall, you wouldn’t be upset?”
Flambae’s jaw clenched as he looked away from Robert, getting his new shot from the bartender. “I wouldn’t care.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll see you later.”
“What?” Flambae’s eyes widened, and he snapped his neck in Robert’s direction.
All Robert did in response was flip him off and walk away, looking for the man he had been dancing with before. When he found him, he finally got a good look at his face.
Damn it.
Out of everyone in this fucking bar he decided to dance with, he chose the one guy who looked like him.
He needed to die, like stat.
Robert grabbed his hand, smiling as the man recognised him. They exchanged some words before going back to dancing, Robert a lot more into it than he was before, which the man seemed to appreciate and matched his energy.
Flambae couldn’t take his eyes off him. Not with the way he willingly pushed his ass against that guy. Not with the way he let him run his hands all over his body like he owned it. Robert’s eyes still stung in his brain.
The ones saying, Come make me.
Come take me.
Come remind me of who I belong to.
That, Flambae could certainly do.
He got up from his seat and approached the dance floor, finding Robert’s smaller frame instantly. He looked up at Flambae, obviously unimpressed.
But he allowed Flambae to grab his arm and lead him to the bathrooms, which looked horrible and smelled even worse. He shoved Robert into the furthest stall from the door, pinning him against the wall.
“If you wanted to prove a point, congradu-fucking-lations,” He hissed, staring into Robert’s eyes.
“Fuck off,” He shoved Flambae off of him, making the other man collide with the plastic bathroom stall wall, putting space between them. “What the hell is your problem?”
“You can’t just–” He hissed, losing his words in his frustration. He rubbed his hands against his face, trying to find what he wanted to say. “You can’t just dance with him when you know I’m watching.”
Robert cocked his head to the side. “And so fucking what if I do?”
Flambae’s jaw set, and he stared at the smaller man.
“What the hell are you gonna do about it, Flambae? It’s not like… whatever this is… is exclusive.”
“You were flaunting around like a peacock, excuse me for finding you embarrassing!” He hissed back, arms folded across his chest.
“So if I was dancing like that on you, you’d have the same reaction?” Robert asked, taking a step forward and folding his arms against his chest. “If I were grinding on your dick, letting you feel me up in the middle of a dance floor for everyone to see, you’d still be pisssed off at me?”
Flambae just stared down at him.
“You can’t be jealous of something that isn’t yours, asshole,” He hissed, making a move to leave.
Flambae wasn’t thinking when he grabbed Robert’s arm, forcing him against the wall again, and smashing his lips against the other man’s.
Robert was surprised at first, but quickly melted, as if he had wanted this for as long as they’d been doing this whole song-and-dance. His hands reached for Flambae’s neck, pulling him closer.
Their bodies collided, Flambae’s hands explored his chest and hips as they had so often done. It was almost natural at this point.
His kisses felt as rough and driven as every time they’d fucked. All passion, all lust, all-consuming flames.
They’d never kissed before.
It felt fitting that the first time their lips met would be in the disgusting bathroom stall of a bar with a name neither of them would remember tomorrow.
Robert wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You’d let that asshole do what I do to you?” Flambae broke their kiss to ask, quickly attacking Robert’s neck with bites and kisses, making the smaller man whine. “Would he ever be able to fuck you like I do?”
Robert didn’t answer. He just bit his lip and stretched his neck out further, giving Flambae more access. Flambae squeeze his waist in response, his body giving Robert praise without even trying. Robert instinctively chased the touch, even after it was gone.
Flambae’s hands made quick work of Robert’s belt, stripping it off the man in one fluid motion. He stopped his assault on Robert’s neck for a minute to take Robert’s shoulders, turning him around. He grabbed the other man’s wrists next, tying the belt around them and pulling the knot tight. He made quick work of taking Robert’s shirt and undoing the buttons, exposing Robert’s chest. He shucked the fabric off of the other man’s shoulders, showing more of his torso and scars.
“Would you let him tie you up like this?” Flambae whispered in his ear, grabbing hold of Robert’s hips and pressing his backside flush against Flambae’s, making Robert feel his erection. “All at his mercy?”
Robert didn’t respond, just craned his neck to see Flambae, who took the opportunity to kiss his lips again. It was like he couldn’t stop. He tasted like alcohol and mint Chapstick. He loved the taste.
Robert realised early on just how good Flambae smelled, the way he always smelled like a warm and soothing campfire, like s'mores, maybe? Like burning applewood, maybe incense? He couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew he couldn’t get enough of it. Call him addicted, call him a freak, he would gladly accept those titles.
He was flipped once again, but this time he was forced down on his knees. Flambae knew how much he liked sucking his dick. He’d done it this morning, even. That was just how much he enjoyed himself.
He opened his mouth almost instinctively, even though Flambae hadn’t even gotten his dick out. He saw the toothy grin the other man gave him, obviously turned on just by how eager he was.
“Would you’ve gotten on your knees for him?” Flambae asked, taking his suit off his shoulders and shucking it down until his underwear was freed. Robert eyed the bulge in his boxers, ignoring his question. He’d rather skip all the jealousy and get straight to the fucking, thank you very much.
Without his hands, he had to wait for Flambae to slowly, agonizingly drop trow to give Robert a look.
Yeah, looking at Flambae’s dick never got old.
He immediately put his mouth to work, increasingly frustrated with the restraints behind his back. He fought against them, but it felt like the more he tugged, the tighter they became.
His tongue circled Flambae’s tip, making the man hiss. It seemed no matter how many times Robert had sucked his dick over the past month, he still hadn’t gotten used to it. Robert liked that about him. Always so sensitive.
He slowly took in more of Flambae’s lengthy cock, trying his best to avoid teeth and keep his tongue active. He knew how much the taller man loved a good blowjob.
Robert had trained away his gag reflex long ago (Don’t ask), so taking the man was only slightly a struggle for him.
When Flambae’s hands found the back of his head, tugging at his hair, Robert assumed he might die.
The hands were hot, like Flambae was still having a hard time controlling his powers fully. Robert moaned at the thought of Flambae accidentally singeing his hair. Not that he was a masochist or anything. He was NOT a freak. Flambae gripped his head and pushed Robert further onto his cock, trying to get Robert to take him all the way down. It was a difficult task, but not one Robert could not do. They called him the deep-throat king. (No, they did not. No one called him that.)
Flambae’s black boots found their way directly underneath Robert’s tented pants, making the Dispatcher whine and thrust forward into them, trying to gain some kind of friction. Flambae tutted at him.
“Such a desperate little whore, aren’t you, Mecha Bitch?”
Robert whimpered but nodded, still trying to hump Flambae’s shoe. It felt so good, so dirty, so bad, and so not enough to get Robert where he needed to be.
“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, okay? That good?” Flambae asked, his grip on Robert’s head loosening. Robert nodded again, and the hand regained its strength, forcing him back and forth on his hard cock. Saliva gathered in his mouth, lubricating his dick, making the slide back and forth all the more pleasurable for both of them. Some of his spit dribbled down his mouth, onto his chin, dripping down onto the tiles below them.
It was all too much and not enough at the same time. He desperately needed more than what Flambae was giving to him. He needed something more than Flambae’s boot on his dick. Fuck, but it was all too much. Maybe he was a bit of a freak.
“So messy…” Flambae commented, grinning at him.
He was. He was so messy, but just for him. No one else but him. He was Flambae’s right now. He didn’t belong to that one person he was flirting with to get Flambae’s attention. All he could be right now was Flambae’s, and he was perfectly okay with that predicament.
Flambae forced him off his cock, much to the man’s disappointment. He tried to chase it after he’d been pulled off, but the grip on his head was just too strong.
“What do you want now, Robert?” Flambae asked, making the man look up at him.
“Your… your cock. Inside,” He pleaded, breathless and croaking.
“Stand up and turn around for me, then,” Flambae responded, patting Robert’s head. The Dispatcher did what he asked, getting off his knees slowly, as the lack of usable hands made it more difficult. He turned, making it easy for Flambae to strip his pants down, since he had no belt.
“Bet you’re still loose from last night,” Flambae teased and nipped his ear, then trailed kisses down his neck. “He wouldn’t know that, huh? That I fucked you good and hard last night till you were begging me to cum inside you?”
“No… He wouldn’t,” Robert responded slowly, turning his head to get a kiss. Flambae happily obliged, passionately kissing him while his hands found the waistband of Robert’s boxers and tugged them down below his thighs. Robert spread his legs apart instinctively, as if Flambae had trained him. Robert did not find that hot.
“That’s fucking right, Bobert. Because I’m the only man who gets to fuck you. Right? Say it. Say that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”
“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me,” Robert whined, arching his back to seek out Flambae’s warm fingers.
“So impatient, bitch,” Flambae scolded, spitting on his fingers. In one fluid motion, Flambae sank two fingers into Robert’s twitching hole, watching as his face contorted in pleasure.
“Haa! Fuck… Flam…”
“Just my fingers, Robbie, you’re so sensitive.”
“Maybe… It’s because… we’ve been fucking every day for a month,” Robert gritted out, breathless.
“Not every day, don’t exaggerate.”
“Shut up and put your dick in me.”
Flambae smacked his ass lightly, just enough to feel. He slowly stroked his cock, spitting on his hand to lubricate it while his other hand fingered Robert with more intensity. Scissoring his fingers inside of Robert, intentionally missing his prostate, just as a punishment.
“He couldn’t even begin to make you feel as good as I do,” Flambae grumbled, making himself angrier. “Bet you wouldn’t be able to feel his tiny dick after taking me for so long.”
Once he figured Robert had been opened enough, he removed his fingers, spat on his hand a little more to lubricate his dick, and lined up his length with Robert’s hole.
“You want to beg for it, Bob Bob?”
“C’mon, please,” Robert whined, wiggling his hips. His hands were still clasped together, unable to do anything but dig his fingernails into the flesh of his palms. “Please, Chad, I need it, I’ve been thinking about it all day…”
“All day, huh? Is it that good?”
“Yes, just, please, put your dick in me!”
Flambae obliged and began inching his way inside, knowing that even with how often they had sex, he still needed to go slow. He still wanted Robert to find enjoyment out of it, after all. He wasn’t a bitch.
“You wouldn’t beg for his cock like you do mine.”
Robert thrashed beneath him, moaning loudly. He would’ve been embarrassed if not for the fact that he simply did not fucking care. Who gave a shit if someone heard?
“Every time, too… you’re such a needy little bitch…” Flambae breathed, taking hold of Robert’s hips. “There, almost there, taking me so well, Robert.”
Robert whined at the praise, feeling his knees weaken. He assumed he might die when Flambae finally did bottom out. He felt so full. He always did when he took Flambae.
“You felt his dick, was it… damn… near as big as mine?” Flambae asked in his ear. Robert shook his head, much to the larger man’s satisfaction. “That’s right.”
He started moving slowly, drawing slow, breathy moans out of his partner. He sank his teeth into the flesh of Robert’s neck, just shy of drawing blood, feeling the muscles underneath the sensitive layer of skin.
“Mmnnn–” He moaned out.
Flambae knew he had a thing for pain. Why else would a normie like him become a hero? He was just here to fulfil all of the other man’s fantasies. And if that included being bitten and burned, Flambae was happy to indulge him. Releasing his neck, he used his hand to grab hold of Robert’s face, turning it toward him to kiss him again. Flambae discovered he enjoyed kissing Robert more than any of the other people he’d tangled with.
Robert moaned into his mouth as he sped up, the echo of their skin meeting with a slap bouncing off the bathroom walls, leaving no doubt about what was transpiring. But Robert didn’t care. They were in their own word, this was theirs and no one else's.
Releasing his mouth, Flambae attacked his neck and shoulder once more, sucking on the skin and leaving new, deep purple marks on his white, freckled skin. This was how he was supposed to look. Scratched and bitten, burned and marked by him and only him.
“Fuck– Chad– You’re so– haa– so deep–”
“I know, right?” He smiled, proudly looking at the way he marred Robert’s skin. “That fucker couldn’t fuck you half as good as I do it.”
His hands found Robert’s hips again, pressing him further onto Flambae’s cock, making the smaller man match his thrusts, making them more intense. Robert’s moans also increased in intensity. Flambae grabbed ahold of his dick, pumping it in time with his thrusts, which he could tell were hitting that spot inside him with the way his hole convulsed and his thighs quivered.
He clenched his teeth to prevent himself from moaning embarrassingly loud. He didn’t need the whole club knowing how good this reformed villain was fucking his brains out.
He was putty beneath Flambae’s fingertips, malleable and ready for anything the other man decided to give him, and he would take it without any complaint.
“I– Chad– I’m gonna– please, hgnnnghhh, it feels so good.”
“Good boy, cum on my cock then, Robert,” Flambae commanded, instantly making Robert spill onto the wall. Flambae didn’t stop. If anything, he went even harder, pushing groans and whimpers out of Robert, who was overstimulated and loving it.
“Please, mmhmgghhn, cum inside me again,” Robert pleaded, knowing how pathetic he probably sounded. “Need… to… feel it.”
Flambae let out an animalistic noise that Robert couldn’t tell was a groan or a growl.
“Need… to prove I’m yours,” Robert added, moaning loudly, and that was all Flambae needed. With one last thrust, Flambae cursed and came inside him, with a shuddering breath, kissing him through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.
He fell onto Robert’s back, both of them catching their breath for a second. Flambae then untied Robert’s hands and helped him pull his pants back onto his waist.
Robert’s breathing had yet to stabilize, but he told Flambae that he was fine. The hero continued to dote on him for a little longer before deciding he was good to go. His aftercare skills had improved tremendously.
They exited the bathroom at separate times, trying to remove any suspicion the team might have about their arrangement.
Robert found a comfy seat to relax in, to let his breathing slow down and his heart stop beating a mile a minute in.
Visi appeared next to him, making him jump up slightly.
“So, we’re fucking Flambae in the bathroom now, huh?” She asked, a mischievous grin on her face.
“So what?” He asked.
“You guys dating?”
“No, not a chance. I’m not his type, remember?”
Visi scoffed. “You’re exactly his type. He’s just too afraid to admit it. Especially with the way he’s been eye-fucking you since his suspension ended.”
“Right,” Robert looked down. Flambae told the team that he’d gotten suspended, but didn’t mention why. Robert told the team he’d taken a week of vacation, since the long shifts were getting to him. He wasn’t exactly lying, though. Paid Suspension was basically a vacation.
A Vacation where he continually either fucked or was fucked by a super sexy fire hero. It was a good suspension indeed.
“It’s just like when I told you to tell the team you were Mecha Man,” Visi told him. “I think you guys should just tell each other how you feel.”
“Who said I feel anything for him?” Robert shot back.
Her nose crinkled, and her smile widened. “You were never good at hiding your emotions, Robert.”
And then she disappeared again.
Robert sighed and looked around the club, trying to see if he could spot Flambae.
Not that he cared or anything.