#hotwire

Robert redirected his attention to Flambae when his voice broke the silence. He wasn’t looking back at him, amber eyes still fixated on the pictures in front of him. 

They were standing in front of a wall in Flambae’s apartment, the man jumping to rambling on about the photos the moment Robert asked about them. To Robert, who for fifteen years owned solely one — the one where his dad held him as he pointed to something off-camera, both smiling brightly, the one that felt like hanging onto a piece of non-existent childhood, the one taken in a perfect moment to make himself believe in the lie it told for even a moment — the amount of them felt obscene. Sprinkled on the dark wall, from a distance they made him think of stars in the night sky, a small galaxy of memories brightening the room.

It wasn’t the only placement for them, either. If he would look away from the wall and fix his gaze on any part of the apartment, at least one photo would be in his vision. Seemingly the main source of decoration, memories surrounded them in many forms, be it the drawings Flambae received from his niece that stopped fitting on the fridge alone, mementos from trips, or gifts. Still, it wasn’t hard to tell that photos were his favorite.

Robert expected all of them to be of his family, maybe few with Prism. What he didn’t expect was that few of them included him, but despite their complicated relationship he shouldn’t be surprised. The photos were mostly of the entire team, one from Prism’s concert he got invited to. It’s not like they were being kept because of Robert’s presence specifically.

Some others caught his attention, like one featuring Dopple. Flambae explained it was when he was starting out as a hero, and Crypto Night was the first hero bar he was allowed into. Robert couldn’t help but notice how Flambae from the photo didn’t carry quite the same confidence, his happiness mixed with faint disbelief, like he wasn’t convinced this was actually happening. He never thought of it too much before, but suddenly Robert was really glad they managed to get Flambae unbanned from the bar.

Flambae liked to talk, that much was obvious to anyone, but when he told Robert about the captured moments, it felt a lot less like he was just speaking to hear his own voice. Instead, his face softened, eyes brightened by a glimmer when he was reminiscing, telling stories of people that impacted his life. (Robert wondered if there will ever be a moment when he looks like this talking about him.)

That’s why it was strange for him to grow quiet after a while. Robert assumed he was lost in the memories when his guest focused on the images, at first. Only when he spoke again did Robert look at him again properly, seeing his brows furrowed ever so slightly, lips losing their smile.

“I asked about his powers,” he corrected, raising his eyebrow.

That made Flambae turn to him, mimicking his expression, albeit with more irritation showing.

“Because of his scars.” 

Robert couldn’t argue. His eyes turned to one of the photos with the mentioned man; a big guy with short, curly hair and a smile that radiated warmth even from the still image. It would be hard to ignore the burn scars enveloping his arms and part of his neck, disappearing under his shirt. Having a good collection of scars himself, Robert wasn’t one to nag people about the stories surrounding them. Asking if his dad doesn’t have similar powers to Flambae was close to the same thing, though, apparent where the question came from.

“He’s a normie,” Flambae spoke again, back to looking at the photos. “Stupid one at that. I’m starting to think all of you fuckers have a death wish or something.”

Annoyed words were softened by care peaking through them. Robert saw Flambae’s jaw move as he bit the inner side of his cheek before taking a breath.

“I didn’t control my powers well as a kid, got emotional often. Not a great combo,” his lips turned in a frown. “He wasn’t ‘dad’ back then, he was a guy replacing my dad. A stranger pretty much, didn’t talk to him unless I had to. Thought he will be the same as that fucker, I guess.”

His eyes grew darker at the mention of his biological father, now honored by a title of just some fucker. Robert didn’t pry into why that was, as Flambae always spoke of his family with utter fondness. Clearly, the man wasn’t a part of it anymore, leaving only bitter ash behind, and Robert wasn’t going to make him ruminate on the aftertaste.

“I had an, uh… panic attack, or some shit. I don’t really remember, but it was bad.” Explaining a memory obscured by smoke in his mind had him struggle for words, his posture tensing up. “Like, really fucking bad. Everything was too much and I was burning, I couldn’t hear mom yelling, or see anything– I was really fucking out of it, couldn’t get me to calm down, no water around or anything to deal with this shit, no one knew what the hell to do because fuck, I was about to burn some shit to the ground. He was there, but what the fuck was a normie supposed to do?”

Arms crossed on his chest, his fingers were digging into his biceps, an attempt to release some of the tension.

“And then he just… Hugged me.” His voice was softer, like he felt the embrace again, shoulders dropping. “A fucking normie hugging a fucking living fireball,” he chuckled humorlessly. “He kept holding me until I calmed down, didn’t try to pull back. Just held me until the flames stopped, told me it’s alright. I burnt the living shit out of him, obviously. And that bastard just said it’s fine,” he shook his head, an upward tug to the corners of his lips. “He was set on never showing how much the burns hurt. I almost believed him, sometimes.”

There was a sadness to his smile, something mournful in his expression. Robert thought he saw more light catch on the corners of his eyes.

“Flambae…”

He blinked away the glossy look before turning his gaze to him.

“I know, I was a kid, not my fault, yadda yadda,” Flambae waved his hand dismissively like he was swatting away an annoying fly. “I have a therapist for this shit, Robbo.” 

There was a moment of silence between them.

“I'm glad Golem was there,” Flambae spoke again, quieter, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to say it to Robert, or himself. “I don't want more people I care about walking around with scars because of me.”

‘Care about’. The words pulled at his heartstrings.

“I don't know if I would do much walking around,” Robert questioned, trying to keep his tone light. “You know, not many survive getting blasted with flames on their face.”

“You explode like three times a week bitch, a little fire wouldn't kill you,” the man scoffed, like it was a ridiculous thought despite knowing how close of a call it was. His seemingly indifferent expression was betrayed by a spark of doubt in his eyes, ill with the thought of a different ending to that outburst, of Golem being just a little too slow.

Robert looked at the photos again, his eyes focusing on one showing his family on a boat. He couldn't help but find it strange — although not in a bad way — to see Flambae look relaxed when surrounded by water. He always seemed uncomfortable at even the thought of it, but his dad’s arm was around his shoulders keeping him grounded, his sister lightly touching his hand, letting him forget about his anxiety. 

“You said he got you into arson, right?” He tried to get back to the less tender topic.

“Yeah,” Flambae smiled, this time lighter. “I thought he won’t want to see me again after that, you know. Or touch me at least, no one really likes to get that close to a kid that can burst into flames at any moment. But no, he acted like nothing happened. Despite everything, he was never scared of me…” He paused for a moment before continuing. “He even asked me to use my powers. To light up a candle for him, burn some trash, show him what I can do, he was never thrown off. Never telling me to stop, to hide.” His hand wandered to his pocket, fingers tapping on the phone inside of it. “I don’t remember when he first asked me to do it, but I still send him photos. Of the fires, I mean.”

Robert raised his eyebrows, briefly wondering how big the list of criminal charges made from their message history would be. Was it his dad’s way of checking on him, making sure to know if things go downhill?

“Always covered for me when I got in trouble for setting shit on fire, too. I didn’t get caught red-handed most of the time, but anyone could’ve put two and two together and figure that a fire was caused by the kid with fire powers. It didn’t matter to him, always finding ways to make people doubt they were right or at ease up on me,” he grinned at the memory, “and then giving me tips on how to not get caught.”

“Grade A parenting,” Robert commented with amusement.

“You fucking bet. One time, the school actually called him in on a fire I didn’t even start, but they were being real stubborn assholes about it. He was pissed. I could count on one hand the times I’ve seen him get actually mad—”

“Which hand?”

That earned him a blazing glare and a punch to the shoulder, Robert letting out a chuckle.

“Bitch,” Flambae huffed, although there was no real heat to his reaction. His eyes lingered for a moment longer before going back to what he was saying. “You do not want to piss him off. I thought he might kill a bitch. He acts all nice and proper, but he can pull some wild shit – did it way more often when he was younger, too.”

“Sounds like he’d have some interesting stories.”

“Some of them are fucking crazy. And he tells them so casually, too,” Flambae’s eyes narrowed on Robert in consideration. “You should join us for dinner sometime, maybe you’ll get lucky and hear some.”

He blinked in surprise at the invitation. Was Flambae often inviting friends to meet his family? He must have, if Robert out of all people got the proposition.

“Would they be fine with that?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Flambae gave him a reassuring nod. “They would like you.”

That statement made an unfamiliar warmth rise in his chest. It felt like a high compliment, something Robert wasn’t expecting to hear. It was a foreign thing to him, getting close enough with someone to meet their family, let alone be liked by them.

“You’d hit it off with dad,” he continued, “being basic ass normies and all.”

“He sounds like a cool guy.”

“The coolest motherfucker I know.”

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This is a scene I had in mind but don't see it fitting to any of my current fanfic ideas, so I decided to test the waters and make myself post it-- Need to fight that fear of posting lmao, especially since I need to figure out how to write characters better before working on longer fanfics fwejknf I'm open to critique but pretty please don't be too harsh thank youuu