#ravynspace

From the passenger seat beside him, Robert hums quietly in agreement.

“Did you at least manage to tell her we’re on our way?” Robert asks, watching Flambae while the driver adjusts his glasses and fixes his hair, checking himself in the rearview mirror.

After about five seconds of silence — Flambae still stares at his own reflection — Robert clears his throat.

“Kind of.” Flambae finally says. He straightens the mirror properly and turns the key in the ignition. “She might’ve understood that we’re fucking.”

Robert frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, watching Flambae’s profile as the car pulls away from the small convenience store and heads toward Prism’s house.

“What exactly would give her that impression?” Robert asks, genuinely curious.

“You know…” Flambae clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “I was trying to send ‘we’re fucking getting drinks’, but only ‘we’re fucking’ went through before I lost signal.”

Robert takes a few seconds to process that. Once it clicks, he lets out a quiet laugh. The sound makes Flambae instinctively glance away from the road for half a second, just long enough to catch a glimpse of his dispatcher’s smile.

“Why are you laughing, Bob Bob? Did I fucking tell a joke or something?” Flambae teases, trying to sound stern.

Robert simply shrugs, not even bothering to check if Flambae noticed the small movement.

“The whole team probably knows about it by now.” Flambae continues, mostly to keep the conversation going.

“Probably.”

Robert’s indifferent, one-word answer itches at the back of Flambae’s brain.

“So you don’t care that they think we’re fucking?” Flambae asks, sneaking another glance at the dispatcher.

“Not really.” Robert shrugs again. “We could be…”

Flambae’s eyes widen instantly, and he has to react quickly to stop himself from slamming the brakes out of pure reflex.

“What the fuck are you saying, bitch?” Flambae almost growls at him.

Robert laughs again, this time much more openly.

“Relax. I’m not saying we should… I’m saying we could.” Robert clarifies, a confident smile lighting up his tired face.

“Who said I want to fuck you, Robbo-bitch?” Flambae keeps grumbling, though now he avoids looking at Robert altogether, forcing his attention back to the road.

“Yeah, sure you don’t, Chad…” Robert replies sarcastically as he checks his phone. “Hm. I’ve got a signal now. I’ll let them know we're on your way.”

While Robert scrolls and taps on his phone, now almost completely distracted from the existence of the driver, Flambae tries to keep his eyes on the road ahead instead of on Robert.

And not think about what it would be like to actually have Robert like that, just for himself.