FLAMBERT FIC WIP
This will eventually be nsfw and available on AO3, but just a snippet to share to the world. TW for self deprecation and implied self harm/lack of care on Robert's end
“You’re thinking too hard again, azizam.” It’s stated so simply. So matter of fact. And Robert knew he was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He was thinking too much.
He always was.
Every single move, every strategy, every “what if”-- it clung to the insides of his skull until the tendrils of stress burrowed deep into his brain and left him with yet another headache that even pain killers couldn’t penetrate. Though with all his aches and pains from his heavily damaged body, it was normal. But Flambae– Chad, Robert reminded himself– was dead set on ripping away the white knuckled grip of control that he always had. Being a hero didn’t allow the luxuries of relaxing. Being a hero meant he couldn’t let himself slip for even a moment. Perhaps that’s why they were here now, in Chad’s bedroom with the fine silk sheets coated in a fire retardant blend so the ex-villain didn’t set them on fire accidentally.
The warm hues of orange of his home were complimented with a deep blue and earthy green– accents of white and rich browns completing it in a rather surprising and tasteful display. When they had first started dating, Robert had anticipated seeing some garish display with nothing but flame decals plastered everywhere. Instead, Chad had actually saved up to create a quaint little home in the nicer part of town. Nothing fancy, but the downstairs basement of the one story home was definitely nice. It was definitely better than his “sad excuse of a shit hole apartment” as Chad had so eloquently put it.
“I know…” Robert finally responded, glancing to meet the glowing lava pools that were his lover’s eyes. God, he could stare at them for hours and never be bored. They seemed to swirl, bubbling below the surface of his lens and dancing around the cornea like a pool of fire. Reds and orange with the bright yellow of fire and specks of blue when he got truly mad… He blinked, returning his focus to the older man before him.
“Come on, bitch. You need to focus.” Dating didn’t mean the name calling stopped. Nor the harsh words and catty responses they sometimes threw. It was just… A part of them. Changing it for some sickly sweet words felt wrong, though Robert definitely enjoyed the Dari that Chad spoke to him. It was soothing hearing the man speak his native language, even if the missing tooth caused a bit of a whistle in his words. Guilt clawed at his gut with that thought. His tooth and fingers, both things gone because Robert Robertson the Third couldn’t go one day without harming someone or something beyond repair. His teeth caught his lips, chewing the skin until the taller man’s thumb caught the act and tugged the pink flesh from his mouth.
“Ah-ah. We’ve talked about that, Bob Bob…” His words were a light scold, gentle and yet still firm. And they had talked about it. How he furrowed his brows too much, how he chewed his nails and lips raw, how he didn’t eat enough… A lot of things he did that were just another part of what made him shitty. Made him painfully human.
“Chad…”
“Robert.”
It always made his chest light aflame with a dull warmth whenever Chad used his actual name. He adored his silly nicknames he made, but it was never better than hearing that husky, accented voice say his full name.
