Milo_olim
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Robert Robertson is the most infuriating man Flambae has ever met. Even more so since he revealed that he is, in fact, Mechaman.
However, somewhere between beating Shroud and returning to work, Flambae gradually begins to realize that maybe there was more to Robert than just the blind hatred he'd held onto for so long.
Between not-dates and vet visits, Flambae's feelings slowly begin to shift, from irritation to something that feels a lot like heart-palpatations.
Or: 5 times Flambae fails to kick Robert's ass, and the one time he actually does
-
Tags
Summary
“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.
-
Tags
Summary
It made sense that Robert associated touch with something bad and given the way he made comments about his father being the ‘tough love’ type, Flambae was starting to doubt that much of the touch Robert received had ever been positive. How many times had someone laid their hands on Robert and didn’t mean him harm?
Or,
Robert is scared of being touched. Flambae tries to make it a little less scary.
-
Tags
Summary
"I like you." Robert's words come out in a quiet exhale, but unwavering, unabashed in the quiet night air. "Might be in love with you, just a little."
Flambae swallows, throat tight, a coil in his stomach. "I-I...Robert." He places a hand on the railing beside Robert, the man still looking at him with shiny doe brown eyes. He taps the remaining fingers of his right hand against the cool metal nervously. "I...I'm sorry."
-
Tags
Summary
In his sleep, Robert appears- for once in his life- like he’s not stressed to hell and back. The frown lines on his forehead are smooth and lax, and even the exhausted bruises that paint the skin below his eyes a sickly purple seem diminished in the soothing glow of Chad’s bedside lamp. He’s still scruffy and unfortunately clothed in that hideous uniform, but all that does is add to the reality of Robert being here, safe and comfortable in Chad’s bed.
Without even realizing he’s doing it, Chad reaches out and smooths his hand over the messy puff of Robert’s hair. The other man hums quietly and turns towards the warmth of his palm, and Chad flinches back like he’s somehow, impossibly, been burned. Robert’s face creases into that oh-so familiar frown as if Chad’s touch was wanted in the first place, and a spike of longing spears through him.