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The hall glittered with accents of golds standing out from the sparkling black curtains draped along the walls. Robert felt like he had just started working at SDN, but it'd already been half a year. And within that half a year, he'd managed to turn the Z-team into one of the highest ranked teams at SDN Torrance. They put in a lot of work to get where they were, and they were being recognized for it tonight–the Cheers To A New Start Gala was named that both because it was New Years Eve and because it was thrown to celebrate the success of the Phoenix Program. All the Phoenix Program Dispatchers and team members based in California were expected to attend. It was being held in Torrance because the most successful Phoenix Program Team was Robert's team.
Pride welled in his chest when Blazer had told him that, in the same conversation that she basically told him that he had no choice but to attend this gala and make sure his entire team did too. He wasn't so jazzed about having to attend himself–he’d spent what was left of his youth after his father was killed being Mecha Man. He hadn't had time for fun or friends. He'd gotten emancipated as a minor and dropped out of highschool before he'd even completed his freshman year. The most fun he'd had before retiring as Mecha Man was one night stands every now and then, and those were just to take the edge off.
With the Z-team, he liked to think he'd gotten a little more socialized, what with them taking him out to bars and restaurants and breaking into his apartment at least once a week for various reasons. He's slowly accrued furniture for his apartment, so it was a lot more liveable now than it had been when he'd first started working as a dispatcher.
That being said, this was too damn fancy and he was tempted to drown himself in the fountain outside to escape it. But, he did enjoy his job and it would be a shame to leave his team now. He didn't think there was anyone else who'd be able to dispatch the Z-team and he also just hated the idea of anyone dispatching his team. He wasn't sure when he'd gotten so possessive of his team, but to be fair, they'd started it themselves. They’d kind of just started treating him like he was their rescue dog at some point and it escalated from there. So Robert was their dispatcher and they were his team. The loyalty between them was unbreakable and anyone who tried to come between them would get their ass handed to them and their teeth knocked out.
It made warmth bloom in his chest to think that he belonged to someone–multiple someones–in a way that no one but them could understand. Their bond was unique and singular.
So there he stood, with a champagne flute in hand. He'd been put in a royal blue slim-fit three piece suit with a lighter blue dress shirt, black lapels, black dress shoes, and a black tie that had octagonal patterns outlined in silver. And he said ‘put in’ because Robert was quite literally abducted by Sonar and Prism and taken to get fitted for a suit–Sonar picked out the fit of the suit and the quality of it and Prism picked out the color scheme. The tie was actually a gift from Blazer for this event. She'd told him it reminded her of him when she saw it.
The rest of the team was also dressed up, which was interesting to see when he was so used to seeing them all in their hero costumes or casual wear(Invisigal, Malevola, Sonar, and Punch Up’s cases).
Sonar was in a pinstriped espresso-brown Italian cut suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and slimmer waist. His tie wasn't the bright red one Robert was used to seeing on him. Instead, he had a cream colored one that looked good with the brown, and a pocket square that was the same color. His loafers were two toned brown and tan, a more classy and old money style, which made perfect sense for him. He looked incredibly suave, a fact that had Robert’s cheeks warming if he let himself stare too long.
Malevola was wearing a short black dress that had a corset with a scooped neckline(which Robert had to pull his eyes away from because he was quite literally eye-level with her cleavage and he was only a man), the two sides of it coming up to frame her chest like horns(the irony was not lost on Robert). The skirt of the dress under the corset was made up of draped fabric, the extra fabric pinned to her hip and the rest left to hang along her leg elegantly. Her usual simple black pumps were replaced by silver gladiator heels, which matched the silver earrings and necklace she wore. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and Prism had convinced the demoness to let her brush on some chunky silver glitter along her horns. She'd kept her makeup simple, with black winged eyeliner and mascara paired with dark tinted lipgloss.
Prism herself had opted for a backless iridescent purple pantsuit that had cutouts on the hips and flared out at the ankles, along with a lilac blazer that had rhinestone tassels along the sleeves and bottom hem. She kept it stylishly draped over her shoulders. She wore rhinestone wedges that boosted her height by a few inches, a fact that Invisigal had made a joke about, since Prism happened to be the shortest member of the team after Punch Up. Her makeup consisted of a white graphic eyeliner and her usual turquoise lipstick and gloss combo, with a silver visor over her eyes. Her hair was in afro-puffs, one pink and the other teal. The outfit had a futuristic disco charm to it and Robert silently enjoyed it when she’d slung an arm across his shoulders and pulled him in for a pre-gala selfie once she had her shoes on.
Flambae absolutely refused to wear a full suit, only committing to a deep orange vest and slacks, with a charcoal grey dress shirt that had the sleeves rolled to his elbows(he claimed he got overheated easily, which no one could dispute, knowing the guy was a human space heater). His tie was flame-patterned in various shimmering shades of yellow, orange, and red and his shoes were dark grey to match his shirt. Honestly, Robert was surprised the fire user hadn't completely refused to wear the tie and left the top few buttons of his shirt undone. The fire user had styled his hair in a half-up, using a flame-design claw clip to hold the top part in place at the back of his head, the shorter parts of his hair escaping its hold and framing his face. Robert kept having to remind himself not to stare so blatantly, trying to maintain his self-control.
Coupé had a form-fitting and floor-length white dress with detailing in silver along the bodice and a slit down one side, a white feather boa held in the crooks of her elbows–an outfit reminiscent of Swan Lake. Her silver stiletto boots were open toed and decorated with feathers as well. Her makeup was just as intricate as the rest of her outfit–white mascara and eyeliner with a deep crimson lipstick that contrasted the rest of the look beautifully. She was elegant and refined, catching the eyes of many as she passed by. Robert pretended he wasn't tempted to ask Prism to blind all the drooling losers–he knew Coupé wasn’t a fan of being ogled that way. Obviously, she could handle herself, but she shouldn't have to.
Punch Up was never too far away from Coupé, also having refused to wear a full suit–mainly because he had to buy each part of one in different sizes and get them all altered to fit him correctly. But, the upside to that was that all of his clothes fit him perfectly, which Robert silently appreciated whenever he saw the man. Tonight, Punch Up was wearing light grey slacks and an emerald green dress shirt, the sleeves actually left rolled down. He'd opted for a simple black bowtie and his shoes were shiny black dress shoes. He usually kept his hair slicked back, but he'd left it a little messy this time, which was doing irreparable damage to Robert's self-control.
Invisigal, when she wasn't eavesdropping on gossip among the other guests at the gala, could be seen in her short dark magenta off shoulder cocktail dress. Similar to Prism's blazer, tassels lined the bottoms of the off shoulder sleeves and the hem of the dress itself where it ended mid-thigh. A silver belt around her waist broke up the eye-catching magenta and matched the silver rhinestones buckles on her black kitten-heeled wedges(Prism and Malevola were unable to convince her to wear anything taller and she was inexperienced wearing heels, it was the safer option). She had black fingerless elbow length gloves and her nails were painted a glossy dark blue. She'd parted her hair in the middle, leaving it in a sharp A-line style that followed her jaw and framed her face nicely. She'd matched her eyeshadow to her nails and let Prism draw a dramatic cat-eye wing with eyeliner. Her lipstick was a nice shade of red to contrast the eyeshadow. Robert watched it transfer to the champagne glass she drank from and made himself look away before he could imagine it staining his skin.
Waterboy had come pretty far since joining the team–they’d figured out that his power was linked to his nervous system and thus harder to control than Flambae's fire was for him. So, they'd gotten him in therapy and also tried out some anxiety meds, along with the team agreeing to be generally less assholes to him while Robert did his best to be as supportive as he could. All of that resulted in the young man slowly but surely learning how to keep himself from just constantly leaking. Now, he didn't soak through his clothes and didn't leave puddles everywhere most of the time(he still had his difficult days, but everyone had those, so no one really held it against him).
Robert himself had helped Waterboy figure out what to wear for this gala–he’d dressed the taller man in a fetching slate-blue suit, with a white dress shirt and a navy blue tie that had wave patterns outlined in white. His dress shoes were white. His ginger hair was naturally wavy and Robert had told him to just leave it as it was, wild and curling at the ends. When he'd seen Waterboy's natural hair for the first time, he'd been stunned into silence. Waterboy was already cute, but he was even cuter when he was dry, which Invisigal had also made a joke about before–he’d make girls wet by being dry. Robert had to admit he'd wanted to laugh at that one, and agree with it. Waterboy was a catch.
The last member of the Z-team, Golem, had been given a massive ceramic tie glazed a nice olive green that contrasted his clay and mud by Invisigal. She'd actually had Flambae help her–she’d used his fire to quickly dry the clay so it would hold the shape she sculpted it into and she'd even paid to have it fired in a massive kiln at a pottery studio. She'd been very proud of herself when she gave it to the construct and Golem had been both floored and emotional over it. Honestly, Robert was a little emotional over it too–Visi was very guarded with her affection, it was nice to see her showing just how much she cared about her friend.
Everyone was dressed to the nines and mingling with other Phoenix Program teams and their dispatchers. It was interesting to Robert, to see how each dispatcher handled their team. Some of them had simply stuck it out through the harassment their team had put them through until the team realized that their dispatcher wouldn't budge, which had earned them respect. Some had given their team members food and treats and gifts once they'd learned their likes and dislikes until the team realized that there was someone who cared enough to actually remember those things for them and finally started cooperating. Others had taken the caring approach and simply shown their team over and over that they did care about what happened to them–Robert even met another dispatcher who'd refused to cut anyone from their team as well. She was an army veteran-turned hero-turned dispatcher after she'd lost her legs in a death match with a notorious hero killer in San Diego. Her prosthetics were made of the same material as Mecha Man's hull, which Robert kept to himself but thought was pretty useful.
Blonde Blazer made her rounds around the room, greeting everyone. She also kept an eye on the Z-Teamers, but she needn't have worried–they were all too busy meeting other former villains and comparing experiences or powers to cause trouble. Robert had even heard some of his own team claiming he was cooler than another team's dispatcher, which made him blush. He'd never expected them to brag about him to other people! No one had ever done that for Robert before….
After a couple hours, Robert was socially burnt out and found a door to a balcony, exiting the main hall and sighing in relief when the noise inside was quieted as soon as the door closed. It was a chilly night, but the stifling heat he'd felt inside had him barely noticing it.
As soon as he turned around to look out over the city, he noticed that someone was already out there–Sonar. His hearing must have been too sensitive to stay where all the noise was. Robert moved to join the hybrid at the railing.
Sonar looked at him, his mouth tilting up in a smile once he saw that it was his dispatcher. He blew out the smoke from his lit cigarette to be carried by the breeze. He wordlessly offered it to the shorter man, who took it and took a drag. Robert didn't smoke often, but he enjoyed it every now and then. And between Visi and Sonar, they liked to offer him one once in a while. Or, sometimes, they'd blow the smoke in his face if he was getting on them for smoking at work. He used to think it was annoying and childish, but now it was more endearing to him than he was willing to admit.
The door opened behind them and Robert recognized his team's footsteps getting closer. He tried to hide his smile at that–they tended to gravitate towards him whenever he was nearby but out of sight. It was amusing to him, and it made him feel warm that they always found him, surrounding him. Not because they felt the need to protect him but because they all wanted his attention.
The crowd inside had started chanting, loud enough for them to hear through the closed door. It must have almost been midnight.
“10!
9!
8!
7!
6!
5!
4!
3!
2!
1!
Happy New Year!!!”
He heard a few champagne corks popping inside, just as cheers rang out across the city from every corner and park and backyard. Fireworks shot up into the sky above them, but Robert was distracted by the warm hand tilting his face to the side and his chin up, the smoke drifting between their mouths as Sonar shared the last drag of the cigarette with him. Robert angled his head to kiss the hybrid properly.
It took him an embarrassingly long second to realize that this was a New Years Kiss. His cheeks flushed as he pressed up into the kiss, mindful of the rest of the team around him, seemingly waiting. He'd never had anyone kiss for New Years before, always found the tradition silly, but he was learning to appreciate it now.
Sonar tasted like a combination of the nicotine of the cigarette and citrus from some of the small treats laid out on the tables of fancy little snacks and Punch and alcohol. Orange and lemon and strawberry too. It was an addicting taste to lick off the hybrid's fangs and along his long tongue that curled into Robert's mouth.
Sonar pulled away and Robert didn't have time to say anything before he was turned around and pressed against the railing by a tall, muscled form. Burning hands slid up along his neck to cup his jaw as a hot mouth captured his. The warmth from Flambae's body seeped into Robert's muscles, chasing away the ever-present ache of old scars that were always made worse by the cold. A tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and Robert opened his mouth. Flambae tasted like cinnamon and red wine when his tongue met the dispatcher's in a heated dance. Robert threw his arms around the taller man's neck and Flambae's hands trailed down his chest to his waist, the temperature of his hands rising enough to feel through the suit and spreading through his sore muscles.
The fire user backed away suddenly and his place was immediately filled by Malevola's black and red visage. In the next second, Robert was lifted by the hips to sit on the balcony railing so the demoness could press a black cherry-tasting kiss to his lips. Her tongue snaked out, gently pressing between his open lips. It slipped right past his tongue, curling at the back of his throat. He swallowed to keep from gagging, a quiet moan sounding in his chest. He desperately hoped the sound of the fireworks covered it up.
The demoness retracted her tongue and leaned back up, leaving the dispatcher lightly panting with glossy, spit-slicked lips and a heavy blush on his cheeks. Coupé was next, pulling him down off the railing and against her, wrapping an arm around his waist and tangling her other hand in the hair at the back of his head as she licked into his mouth, tasting the champagne he'd been sipping on all night and some of Malevola's gloss on his lips. Hers wasn't flavored, just a little tacky-feeling. He nicked his tongue on one of her sharper-than-normal canines and her tongue quickly swiped away the bit of blood it produced.
Then she turned to the side and dipped him backwards, pulling his leg up over her hip with a grip on his thigh. He yelped, quickly tightening his hold around her neck(she was taller than him even without heels), but the sound was smothered by lips and a tongue that tasted like those expensive Cuban cigars Punch Up liked to smoke for celebrations. The complex flavors of said cigars lingered in his mouth as the Irishman took his turn ravishing the dispatcher upside down. Big, warm hands grasped his jaw tilting his head back at a better angle for kissing.
As soon as those lips left his, he was pulled back up and lightly shoved back against someone else. Arms came up to wrap around him, gloved hands pushing into his suit jacket as he blinked away the disorientation and turned his head to see Invisigal. She smirked at him, leaning up to steal her own kiss over his shoulder. She tasted like a combination of champagne and cigarettes. She must have escaped the crowd to take her own smoke break earlier.
She shoved him forward when she pulled away and Prism sauntered up to him and pulled him in with a hand on the back of his neck. She kissed him while she took a selfie with the other hand. She was making sure to take pictures and videos of every other member taking their turns with Robert too. Her lipgloss was blue raspberry flavored–bold, tart, and sweet at the same time, fitting the woman's personality to a T. She pulled back with a grin and spun him around, making him stumble.
He collided with a tall, willowy figure. Waterboy steadied him with hands on his hips and leaned down to kiss the dispatcher before he could talk himself out of it. Robert hummed into the kiss, tasting mint–Waterboy was a fan of those spearmint tic-tacs. He was the same height as Flambae, so the shorter man had to get on his tippy toes to reach better. The younger man made sure to lick away the several layers of lipgloss and lipstick coloring the dispatcher's lips, tasting the interesting combination of flavors with a hum.
Waterboy pulled back and smiled sweetly at the dispatcher, taking him by the shoulders and turning him around gently. Last but not least, Golem stepped up with a playful grin, tapping his cheek.
“Put it right there, baby.”
Robert couldn't help it, he burst out laughing and had the construct lean down so he could plant a kiss on a clay cheek.
Invisigal came back with a whole platter of champagne, each of them taking a flute of the alcohol.
“Happy New Year!” The team cheered, raising their glasses.
Then, before any of them could drink, Prism raised hers again. “To real heroes!” She raised it to Robert and the rest of the team did the same. Robert's chest warmed and he couldn’t contain his smile as he drank.
The fireworks were still going and the team stood on the balcony to watch, ringing in the new year together. Robert hoped they saw a lot more New Years Eves together in the future.
He'd finally found his place–surrounded by his team and smothered in their affection.