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1) Flambae
Flambae hates it when he blushes. When he blushes, he turns bright red, almost as red as Malevola. His skin sizzles, crackles, and pops, like meat in a pan, as his sister once described it, while fumes waft off his body, setting off the fire alarms or the sprinklers. In other words, it sucks, and he hates it.
But for some fucking reason, Robert loves making him blush.
Flambae was not having a good day. First, he was late to work; he had to drop his niece off at school. Then he had to fight traffic to get to SDN. While he was getting into his suit, his hair decided it didn’t want to cooperate, sending flyaways this way and that. When he finally got it to work, his rubber band snapped.
The first call he received was for a cat in a tree, which caused his face to get scratched up. Then he was sent on the damn coffee run. There are better things to do, and instead, he’s running coffee deliveries.
By the time his lunch break came, Flambae was done for the day. He dropped into one of the communal chairs in the break room and slumped over the table, groaning loudly.
“I know for a fact you’re not getting dicked in here,” Prism exclaimed, the door creaking shut behind her.
“You don’t know that. For all you know, every surface in this room has been fucked on,” Flambae remarked, lifting his head.
Prism chuckled, ruffling his hair lightly before she approached the fridge. “Bad day, bae?” she asked.
“The fucking worst.” Flambae flipped his hair over his shoulder. “Late for work, hair was being a bitch, the hair tie broke, and that damn cat!” He groaned.
“I’m sorry, bae.” Prism then dropped into the seat opposite him, a small box of pizza in her hands. “You wanna get fucked up tonight?” she asked.
“Is the sky fucking blue? Yes, bitch, let’s do it!” Flambae cheered.
As the two planned their night, the break room door opened, creaking shut behind Robert as he approached the coffee pot with determination. Upon seeing it empty, he groaned loudly before he began refilling it.
“Damn, shitty office coffee got you that whipped?” Flambae remarked.
Robert snorted, leaning on the counter as the coffee pot hissed to life. “Good work today, you two,” he added.
“You're only saying that because we’re the baddies of the team,” Prism snorted, earning a snicker from Flambae.
Robert rolled his eyes at them, a smile tugging at his lips. Flambae turned back to Prism’s phone screen, a recipe for Corona-ritas on display. He loves a good margarita, even ones that’ll fuck him up later. This is exactly what he needs after such a tough day.
Prism’s foot nudged his. When Flamba caught her eye, she gestured in Robert’s direction. He was still leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as he stared intensely at Flambae. Flambae narrowed his eyes at the dispatcher, raising a challenging eyebrow.
“Like what you see, Bob-Bob? Why dontcha take a picture? It’ll last longer,” he teased.
Robert smiled softly, tilting his head slightly. “You look pretty with your hair down, do you know that?” he commented.
Flambae’s face grew hot. Well, hotter as smoke wafted off his body, followed by sizzling noises like someone was frying something in a pan. Robert’s brows shot up to his hairline as he took a microstep closer, staring more intensely.
“Holy shit, I didn’t know you could turn that red,” he remarked, a chuckle in his words.
“Neither did I, holy shit!” Prism exclaimed, immediately snapping thousands of photos.
Flambae leapt to his feet, shouting curse words over his shoulder as he ran out of the break room. He needed to get somewhere far from a sprinkler; Mandy would be pissed with him.
2) Punch Up
Coupe had mentioned in passing once that when Punch Up blushes, he fidgets with his mustache. Like how a girl would play with her hair, he’d twirl the styled ends between his fingers while he grew red. Since then, Punch Up has refrained from blushing in front of the team to prevent any teasing.
But when he blushed in front of Robert, he didn't tease him. Not ever since that day.
Punch Up invited Robert to a bar where two individuals compete for a complimentary 32-oz bucket of their preferred drink. At first, Robert was hesitant to attend, but after hearing about the competition for free drinks, he decided to go.
The pair arrived just as another duo was finishing up. Robert got them a table while Punch Up spoke to the bartender about the free drinks thing. There were three more duos ahead of them, so they had time to drink.
And drink they did. Punch Up was four pints in, while Robert was two neat whiskeys deep when they got called up. As the two stumbled up to the ring, Robert knelt to the Irishman’s height.
“Don’t go easy on me,” his words slurred slightly.
They took their respective corners; Robert on the left, Punch Up on the opposite right. The referrer reminded them and the audience of the rules: no killing, no weapons, no powers, no blood, and no flinging shit at your opponent. The two men snorted at that.
As soon as the whistle blew, the two men charged each other fiercely. Punch Up went for Robert’s knees, while the taller man immediately jumped out of his path. He then scooped up the Irishman, holding him over his head as he dropped him onto the mat.
Punch Up grunted in surprise but rolled away when Robert attempted to pin him down. With a devilish grin, he then swept Robert’s legs out from underneath him, causing him to fall onto his knees.
Punch Up crawled onto his back and wrapped his arms around Robert’s waist, using his weight to topple the taller man. With a shout of “timber” from the Irishman, Robert fell over like a log.
Robert raised his arms, bracing for the punches that never came. Instead, he was pinned to the ground as the audience counted down from ten. During the countdown, Punch Up decided to tickle Robert’s side, which caused the lithe man to squeal in laughter as he escaped the Irishman’s hold, rolling away.
“Where ya goin’, laddy?” Punch Up teased him, stomping after him.
Robert propped himself onto his hands and knees and then flung out a kick, which Punch Up avoided. Robert had leapt to his feet and then swung out with the other leg. This time Punch Up caught it. He held on as Robert hopped about on one leg, trying to free himself. With another grin, Punch Up pulled Robert forward, causing the taller man to drop into a split. The audience oohed in sympathy.
“Oh, my balls,” Robert groaned as he slowly pushed himself up.
“Haven’t even touched them yet,” Punch Up remarked, latching onto the other man’s shoulders.
Robert tensed up, but a bit too late, as Punch Up wrestled him to the ground. He then grabbed his arm, holding it hostage. He wrapped one leg around Robert’s neck, not tight enough to hurt but enough to disengage. The other leg held down Robert’s remaining arm, while the audience counted down again from ten.
Punch Up was victorious, the crowd going wild for him as he celebrated. Robert lay there on his back, huffing and puffing a bit before finally standing. The bartender had already pulled out the buckets by the time they got there, asking what they wanted.
“You went soft on me back there,” Robert accused as they sat at their table.
“Nooo,” Punch Up lied, looking away as he began to chug his drink, another beer.
“Yeah, you did. You could’ve taken any opportunity to punch my lights out or to punch in my nuts, but you didn’t. You went easy on me,” Robert chuckled.
Punch Up attempted, but failed, to appear unaware of what Robert was saying. He grinned widely at Robert’s chuckling, unsure if it was from the alcohol or from the realization that Punch Up was holding back his punches.
“Didn’t want tcha to wake up in pain again. I know it’s gettin’ colder out and I don’t want to be the reason you wake up in pain,” Punch Up admitted.
Robert hummed, resting his chin in his hand. “Quite the gentleman,” he remarked.
Punch Up smirked, flexing one of his arms.
“A body of stone but a heart of gold. No wonder Coop fell for you,” Robert slurred.
And in that moment, Punch Up’s face grew hotter, like Flambae ignited his face. He chuckled lightly, twirling the curled ends of his mustache in between his fingers as he looked away. Fuck, he hopes he wasn’t too drunk to forget this night.
3) Phenomaman
When Phenomaman blushes, he turns blue. It’s common on Urgot-52dc; Phenomaman himself knew of people who would turn as blue as the ocean and others whose blush would only color their audio receptors. After his breakup with Blazer, he thought he’d never blush again.
That was until Robert proved him wrong.
Robert had mentioned in passing that he wanted to try some hobbies. “Want to spend less time on my phone,” he said. So Phenomaman immediately brought his Magic: The Gathering cards to work the next day.
“And you put this card here sideways, for defense,” Phenomaman said, sliding a card titled “Ballista Squad” sideways.
Robert nodded, posed like the Thinker over the conference table. “And you said it’ll take two turns to break through?” he confirmed.
“Precisely.” Phenomaman flipped another card before setting it with his attack cards. “I pulled ‘Sneak Attack,’ so I shall place it with my Creature card,” he added.
Robert nodded, then pulled out another card. “Okay, I just pulled Galepowder Mage. What next?” he asked.
“You can use it to remove Blockers temporarily.” Phenomaman gestured to Robert’s cards. “For example, if I had the card, I’d use it to destroy your ‘Ballista Squad.’ But I do not have it. You can temporarily destroy the ‘Hundred-handed One’.”
Robert nodded, then set his card down. Phenomaman flipped his card, then plucked up another. The other man glanced at it, then nodded in understanding as Phenomaman set it down.
“This is my ‘Legion: Army.’ I attack your ‘Ballista Squad,’ which takes half damage, so that is my turn.” Phenomaman gestured to Robert. “It is now your turn.”
Robert nodded, then plucked up another card. He frowned at it, reading the description, and then he placed it in attack. Phenomaman then flipped over his ‘Creature: Bear’ card, sliding it into the graveyard, and then he plucked another.
“I pulled ‘Champion of Rhonas,’ which excels in Sneak Attack, so I place this card in attack mode.” Phenomaman tapped his card, then smiled at Robert. “I believe you have less health now,” he observed.
Robert frowned, then checked his health meter. “Shit, yeah, I got like five or six hits left,” he chuckled.
Phenomaman wiggled in his seat, like a giddy child. He then placed a card in block mode and gestured for Robert to take his turn. Robert then plucked up another card, sliding it into defense as well. Phenomaman then plucked up another card and set it in attack mode, grinning triumphantly.
“I win,” he declared.
Robert frowned, staring at the cards as he tried to understand, before he chuckled in disbelief. “Yeah, you did. Good game,” he commented.
“Indeed it was.” Phenomaman began shuffling his cards together. “Do not wallow, Third Robert Robertson. You fought excellently,” he said.
“Thanks, big guy. You did too,” Robert commented back, shuffling his cards.
Phenomaman slid his cards into their box, then took Robert’s that he loaned him. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked hesitantly.
“I did, yeah.” Robert tilted his head. “Did you?” he asked.
“I did phenomenally,” Phenomaman declared.
Robert grinned back, helping the alien put away his decks. Robert paused at one card, skimming the information on the back. Phenomaman hovered, watching as Robert flipped it over.
“Is there like lore or something?” Robert asked.
Phenomaman beamed. “In a way. There is a short story written by Wizards of the Coast, set in Dominaria. Now there are Vignettes. Vignettes are something like brief episodes of a story. We have the Kamigawa Vignettes. The Kamigawa Vignettes are based on Japanese culture. It is the interplay between kami, or gods and mythos, and mortals…”
Phenomaman trailed off, taking notice of Robert’s silence. He looked at the other man, who was gazing at him with the same fond look Blazer had when they were dating.
“You have a look of fondness on your face, Third Robert Robertson. Do you find joy in hearing me talk?” he asked quizzically.
Robert shrugged. “In a way.” He then smiled warmly at him. “You light up when you talk about something you're passionate about, like you were with Blazer. You’ve come a long way, Katon,” he added.
Phenomaman’s face grew cold as his skin turned blue. He felt it flow down his neck and towards his ears. Robert’s eyes widened as he leaned in, staring intensely at him.
“Holy shit, I’ve never seen you do that before,” he remarked.
“It is blushing, Third Robert Robertson. I am not sure if I can stop it,” Phenomaman admitted.
“No need.” Robert’s grin widened. “It’s kinda cute,” he remarked.
If Phenomaman could get any bluer, he would.
It was at this moment that the universe decided to save him, as Robert’s alarm went off. He waved bye as he hurried out of the conference room. Phenomaman watched him go, staring still where he was even after the door was closed.
What a unique man, that Robert.
4) Invisigal
Invisigal loves making other people blush. She loves watching them get flustered and bright red, stuttering over their words or fiddling with something on their person. So when Robert made her blush, she didn’t hate it.
It was during an outing with the team. They’ve been looking for a new bar to hang out at since they’ve been banned from most bars. Prism was singing one of her songs, with Flambae and Malevola as her backup singers. Coupe and Sonar had teamed up to scam people out of their money. Punch Up and Golem were having a chugging competition with each other, while Waterboy looked on in curiosity. Phenomaman was enjoying the music, nursing a beer.
Invisigal had made three other patrons blush. One of them made a stuttering attempt to flirt back, while the third patron blushed profusely and covered their face with their arms. She got bored and started looking for a new target.
That was when she spotted Robert, leaning against the bar top and nursing a neat whiskey.
“Hey, sexy.” Robert raised an eyebrow at that nickname. “Hope you like soda, ‘cause I wanna Mountain Dew ya,” Invisigal said as she slid in next to him.
Robert snorted, rolling his eyes. “That was shitty,” he remarked.
“You want shitty? I’ll give you shitty.” Invisigal took Robert’s drink from his hand and drank from it. “You're a snack I want to break my back,” she remarked.
Robert scoffed, gesturing to the bartender for another neat whiskey. Invisigal frowned, surveying the taller man’s face. There was a flush from the whiskey on his face, but not from her. She would need to step up her performance.
“Are you drunk or somethin’?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow her way.
“Not yet. If I wanna get drunk, it better be from your cock,” she grinned.
“Now that one was awful.” Robert scooped up his new drink, saluting the bartender in thanks. “If you wanna pick people up, you need to use less creepy ones,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Invisigal crossed her arms, raising a challenging eyebrow. “How would you do it then?” she challenged.
“Well, first things first, get a feeling of the atmosphere. Do they look like they’re having a good time? Do they look like they’re flirting? Then maybe shoot your shot. Be polite, don’t be crass, and compliment them.” Robert shrugged.
“Like what? Like ‘hey, I like your cock’ or ‘nice tits, smother me with them’? Invisgal asked.
“No, like…” Robert suddenly faced her, cupping her chin. He lifted it until her eyes met his and gently held it there. “If beauty were time, then you must be eternity,” he commented.
Invisigal’s face grew warm, from her ears to her neck. She tore away from Robert’s grip, mumbling something about him being a fucking dork, and hurriedly walked away from him. She sank next to Golem, who mumbled a greeting to her, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest.
Huh, she thought. Maybe there’s more to Robert.
5) Golem
When Robert made Golem blush, it was a surprise. He didn’t know he could do that.
Golem was sharing his music with Robert outside of the SDN building on their lunch break. Robert needed some peace, and Golem wanted to be one with nature (literally).
“Who’s singing this song?” Robert asked, trying to peer over Golem’s arm.
“This guy called Yung Gravy. I think he sounds dope,” Golem rumbled, tilting the iPad his way.
“Oh, neat.” Robert bopped his head along a bit. “I don’t normally listen to anything with rap. This is pretty good,” he commented.
“What do you listen to?” Golem questioned.
“Whatever my dad had playing. Stuff like AC/DC, Aerosmith, or KISS,” Robert shrugged.
“So, divorced dad rock?” Golem joked, chuckling.
“Yeah, basically,” Robert snorted.
Golem snorted as well, which sounded like rocks grinding against one another, before he began clicking through his playlist. He stopped at a song and clicked play, watching Robert’s eyes widen with recognition as it started.
“Aerosmith?” Robert confirmed.
Golem nodded. “Heard it in a Marvel movie. Thought it sounded dope,” he added.
The construct watched the smaller man drum along, tapping his leg in time with the music. He looked happy, like he was reminiscing about the happier days before his dad’s passing. Robert then leaned on Golem, a beaming and content smile on his face.
“Thanks for that, bud. You're a good person,” he commented.
There was a grating noise, similar to the sound of gravel rubbing against itself. Robert lifted his head, frowning at the noise, before an amused grin stretched across his face.
“Holy shit, you look like you're blushing,” he remarked.
Golem lifted his other hand, placing it against his cheek. It was warm, like freshly poured pavement. It felt smoother, too, like someone had smoothed out his mud. He chuckled before letting his hand drop.
“Looks like I can blush,” he remarked.
“Cool,” Robert agreed.
+1) Robert
He needs to say something.
Robert needed to mention the video that Prism took of him while he was high on anesthesia. He must openly express his admiration and gratitude for all of them.
So why hasn’t he done it?
Robert watched as everyone celebrated around him. They had forced their way into his home, bearing food, music, and alcohol. Royd and Mandy were invited as well, and he watched the pair talk over a plate of cookies that Waterboy brought.
Prism was singing her rendition of Feminomenon, with the add-ons of lights and holographic back-up dancers. Flambae was recording her, cheering her on. Malevola and Punch Up were forcing Coupe to drink water so she’d sober up, but she was refusing, keeping her cup away from the two.
Waterboy and Phenomaman were playing a round of Magic: The Gathering. Sonar was hovering close by, acting like he was not interested, but he clearly was, judging by the way his ears kept tilting their way.
Golem and Invisigal had taken over his TV, with a PlayStation plugged in as the two played against each other. Golem must have won because she started shouting at him that he cheated, and it was not fair.
Prism gestured for Robert to join them as the song ended, holding out the mic in his direction. He could take the opportunity. He could take the mic, sing along with her, and then he’d tell them that he knows about the video. He knows that they are aware of the video, and he could assure them that he meant what he said.
Instead, Robert gave her a warm smile and gently shook his head.
Prism frowned, then shouted something at her audience that he couldn’t understand. Malevola peered over her shoulder, grinning devilishly before she opened a portal beside her. Another sliced through the air beside him, and Malevola yanked him through.
He landed between Flambae and Malevola, who immediately wrapped him in an embrace. Robert could feel Malevola’s tail coil around his waist and the heat that wafted from Flambae’s arm around his neck.
Coupe slumped to the floor, pouting at Punch Up as he made off with her cup. She rested her head on Robert’s lap, her hair coming undone in some places. Robert hesitantly ran his fingers through it, reveling in the way it threaded through his fingers.
Another song had started, one that Robert remembered his dad playing when he was younger. Prism pointed at him, stating it was for him as she then belted into song. Punch Up returned with a water bottle for Coupe, then handed Robert another beer. He glanced at the empty bottle before taking the new one with a smile.
Waterboy suddenly let out a triumphant cheer as Phenomaman applauded for him. Sonar was now fully invested, watching as the pair shuffled their cards. Phenomaman cut his deck, offering half to the man-bat, who took it gratefully.
Now Robert remembers why he hasn’t done it yet. He doesn’t want to lose this. He doesn’t want to fuck up his relationship with these people. He doesn’t want to lose the pop singer who’ll sing songs to him. He doesn’t want to lose the half-demon that’ll portal him home when he misses the last bus home. Or the pyrokinetic that’ll not-so-subtly heat his coffee. Or the invisible perv who’ll trip the ones talking shit about him.
He doesn’t want to lose them.
Robert’s face burned red as he dropped his head into his hands.
“Shit, I'm fucked,” he muttered to his hands.