#uncle flambae

Nah that could never happen.

His biggest worry should be if the Bone Zone is still messing with his reputation. Hopefully that chapped lips rumour has run its course by now.

Saturday started out pretty normal. A little more tingly than normal but nothing Flambae couldn’t handle. He’s dealt with these weird phantom tingles ever since he’s been arrested. Trauma or something. It wasn’t something he was going to linger on though.

He started his morning stretches, texting his sister and Alice, doing some meal prep and some home workouts.

He had to touch up a costume for his nieces ballet competition coming up, along with fixing up any tears in his own hero costume.

Eventually it was time to meet up with Prism. He drove down to her place, bringing a gym bag of clothes so that they could get ready together

“Bae?”

“Yes bitch?”

Prism was in the middle of doing her eyeliner when she caught sight of Flambae getting changed in the mirror.

“You know that I think you’re a baddie in those jean shorts but.. Do you gotta wear them everytime we go out?”

Flambae, who had just finished squeezing his ass into a pair of jean shorts, looks over his shoulder to lock eyes with Alice through the mirror.

“You know what they say. If it ain’t broke, don’t change it. Or whatever the fuck.”

“you are so right boo.”

They both chuckle and finish up getting ready.

Prism wore a black mini skirt with a gold hem, and a half and half pink/blue sleeveless top.

Flambae dressed in his usual jean shorts that should count as booty shorts at this point. And a way too tight black tank top with.

When they got to the club it was absolutely buzzing.

The music was thumping. People were dancing. Bodies were pressing.

They met up with a few others from the team, but Flambae didn’t intend on sticking around to chat with them. He swung by to say hi, took a group shot with them, then he was on his way.

He prowled around the dance floor, hit the bar a few times. He wasn’t sure what he was really looking for. He had a type sure, but he wasn’t feeling overly picky tonight.

Or at least he thought he wouldn’t be too picky.

No one felt.. right.

That is until he saw this skinny twink at the bar. He had nice short brown hair, a slim waist. Usually Flambae liked his men a little taller than the one he was looking at, with a little more muscle too, but this guy seemed to be what was doing it for him tonight.

He slid into the bar stool next to the man, having to lean in and speak up over the music to be heard.

“Can I buy you a drink, cutie?”

The twink turned his head to look at Flambae, and he couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed in what he saw. The guy had a nice face, but something just seemed to be missing.

His attention was quickly to drawn to the guys sly crooked smile, and that quickly wiped away any disappointment he may have had.

“Why? I look thirsty to you?”

Yeah.. Flambae thinks him and this little smart mouthed twink are going to get along real nice.

The smart mouthed twink turned out to be named Chris, and he matched Flambae’s banter beautifully. The back and forth felt natural, Flambae was already making plans on how to smoothly ask Chris back to his place.

Chris was taking a long sip of whatever drink he had ordered and that Flambae had paid for, staring like Chris face was a puzzle.

What was so off about it.

Chris put his drink down and looked back at Flambae, tilting his head curiously. Then it clicked.

His face looked bare, it’d look better with some freckles sprinkled over— OH nononono.

He finally realized why he had been drawn to this twinkie looking man. He’s pretty much a copy of Robert, if Robert looked less straight, had no scars or freckles, and darker eyes and hair.

Actually he thinks that their face structure is a bit different as well-

DAMN IT stop thinking about Roberts face structure!!

Flambaes internal struggle must have shown on his face, because now Chris was asking if he was okay. And no, he was not okay. He just realized he was subconsciously looking for a Robert stand in to hook up with. But obviously he couldn’t say that out loud.

He played it off, said he had to get back to his friends and thanked Chris for his company. Chris gave Flambae his number, but Flambae knew he’d never call it. As much as he got along with the guy, there’s no way he’d ever be able to look or talk to him again without thinking of Robert fucking Robertson.

He returned to his friends, suggesting the bar hop to another club, which the group has no problem with since if they stay in one place too long they’ll likely end up doing something to get kicked out of it.

They made it to the next club, and Flambae yet again wandered off.

This time though he was moping at the bar, trying to get drunk enough to erase what just happened to his brain.

He had been doing so good! He had barely thought about Robert at all!

Out of sight out of mind, that’s what he thought this whole crush thing was. He needed to find someone the opposite of Robert, someone big and tall, maybe if he’s lucky he can score a guy with a British accent. There’s no way Robert would be able to do a British accent-

Just as he was trying to drink his thoughts away, he felt someone saddle up on the seat next to him. They leaned in, asking loudly over the music if Flambae wanted a drink.

Flambae had some Deja vu, he had just done the same thing to someone else at the last club.

When he turned his head to the man that just spoke, he was met with someone who nearly matched him in height and muscle, if anything this guy might have a bit more mass and a few inches on Flambae.

“Fuck yes.”

Perfect.

After some flirting and more drinking, things seemed to be heading in the right direction. He learned that his new handsome friend, was also a meta. Some kind of metal power. Even better, he should be able to withstand some heat.

He shot Alice off a text before leaving with the buff guy who’s name was… I wanna say Jeff? It’s probably not Jeff. Shit. Flambae may have gotten a little too drunk, cause he already forgot the hunks name.

Ah shit…

Okay okay. We’ll just use nicknames, and- wait.. what is he doing?

Flambae looked up at the man as they walked down the sidewalk, side by side.

“Wanna put your number in my phone, big guy?”

Smooth.

His little trick worked. Julian happily put his number in Flambaes phone. At least he got the J right.

Julian called an Uber and they went back to his place. The poor Uber driver had to deal with Flambae and Julian sucking face the entire way to Julians plcae.

He had a nice bachelor pad. Not that Flambae really got a chance to look around. Julian had a hand around his waist and was tugging him along to the bedroom, giving him sloppy open mouth kisses on the neck as they made it to the bed.

Flambae was pushed back onto the bed, Julian climbing over top easily. It wasn’t very often that he found someone capable or willing to manhandle him, though he still lets short guys try every now and then.

Julian was perfect for tonight. He matched Flambae in strength and stamina, and he could handle the burn when Flambae decided to heat up.

And best of all, he didn’t mind switching between top and bottom.

It was a good fuck, really.

He didn’t even think of what’s his face the whole time.

He may have burned the guys bedsheets a bit, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

I mean.. it’s kind of obvious that if you take a pyrokinesis to bed that the bed might get burned. Though he has had some guys get pissed about it in the past.

Idiots

Flambae was sated. His dry spell officially broken. He spent the night since he was exhausted and still a bit drunk. But by morning, he was out. He woke Julian up to give him the heads up that he was leaving, then quickly dodged and scurried away when the bigger man tried pulling him back into bed.

The sex was good, but it wasn’t cuddle in bed then wake up and make eggs for him good.

Flambae got what he needed, Julian got what he needed. If he changed his mind wellll, he had the mans number.

He went home, texted Alice and his sister, then he had a shower and made himself some hangover breakfast. Thankfully being a meta meant that hangovers didn’t hit too hard. Well.. at least as long as you don’t go too hard.

Which Flambae did not.

He had a pep in his step today.

He finished up his nieces costume, brought it over to his sisters place and had lunch with them. Then of course his niece had to do a little show with her new costume, showing off her ballet routine that he would get to see again at her next recital.

He ended up staying for dinner, which was becoming a new norm for them now that he was out of prison. Even helped get his niece to bed before leaving.

He went home, did his night time routine, relaxed..

This weekend was the best he’s had in a while.. maybe things were starting to look up.