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Robert has to remind himself once again to never go to Flambae for serious problems.
“When I went to you for advice on figuring myself out, this was not what I had in mind.” The dispatcher sighs. They’re standing in front of a gay bar of all places, in the late evening no less.
“The fuck do you mean?” Flambae asks as he turns to Robert, looking a little offended. “What else did you expect? You blowing me until you finally figure it out?”
Robert blushes a little at that comment.
“Uh, no. I’m just wondering what made you get this idea in the first place.” He says with a frown, though now he can’t get the image out of his mind.
“Well, I actually wanted to take you to a club, but I figured you aren’t ready for that yet.” Flambae answers, looking Robert up and down as he says it. The guy looks like he hasn’t had a single date in his life, so a club’s environment would certainly fry his poor brain. It’s no place for a mere dispatcher. “Now go inside and order a drink or something.”
Robert sighs in frustration, already feeling exhausted from the other man’s constant teasing. Despite that, he walks towards the entrance and pushes the door open.
The place is pretty crowded, more than Robert expected. Patrons are walking around everywhere, and it looks like there’s nowhere left to sit, but he and Flambae manage to score a small table near the bar.
“Two Spanish coffees, please.” Flambae orders when the bartender glances at them, not even bothering to ask Robert what he’d like.
“Why Spanish coffee?” Robert asks when the bartender looks away, deciding not to comment on how the hero is contradicting himself based on what he said a moment earlier.
“Because I want you to try it.” Flambae answers, sounding surprisingly genuine for once despite not looking at the other man, gazing down at the table. “It’s pretty good.”
“Only if you pay, Flambae.” Robert scoffs, though still a little curious of how it tastes. What is this, a date or something?
“You think I wouldn’t?” Flambae scoffs, rolling his eyes at the smaller man’s comment. Who does Robert think he is, some kind of scammer? “Also, it’s Chad for you.”
“Sure, but I still don’t believe that’s your actual name.” The smaller man comments, already wanting to get it out here. It hasn’t even been ten minutes.
Riling up Flambae, Chad, is certainly entertaining.
”You take that back.”
”Never.”
“Bitch.”
“Asshole.”
It stays silent after that, though there’s no lingering tension. They’ve thrown insults at each other before, so it’s nothing new. The setting is just different, nothing what they’re used to. It almost feels a little intimate, like an actual date.
Almost…
“Two Spanish coffees?” The waiter says to get their attention, putting the two cups in front of them. The warm smell combined with the alcohol immediately captures Robert, almost wanting to thank Flambae for ordering for them both.
“Thank you.” Robert says, figuring the guy doesn’t get that said all that much. Either that, or this is his first week.
Flambae however, sees how the waiter, who looks to be in his early twenties, blushes a little at the dispatcher’s appreciation, something that Robert overlooks.
“Show off…” Flambae comments after the waiter left, glancing down at his coffee, steering the spoon in it to distract himself.
“What? Are you jealous that you don’t get all the attention for once?” Robert guesses, trying to provoke Flambae again. Tho the dispatcher hasn’t failed to notice just how annoyed his colleague gets when his eyes aren’t on him.
“No…” Flambae mutters, only glancing up at Robert to give him a glare before returning his attention to his coffee.
For the first time, Robert really doesn’t know what to do with his colleague. The guy now acts grumpy over nothing, and the dispatcher doesn’t know how to handle this sudden switch in behavior.
They sit in silence for another long moment, both just trying to focus on their coffees despite the lingering tension.
Until, to Flambae’s annoyance, the same waiter comes back to their table.
“Is everything to your liking?” He asks, noticeably looking at Robert with a shy smile.
Again, Robert doesn’t notice, of course he doesn’t. But Flambae sure does.
“No, we were just about to leave.” He cuts the waiter off, downing his and Robert’s coffee before giving the waiter a five-dollar bill and storming out of the bar, dragging the dispatcher with him.
It has Robert utterly confused, the most he has been in his entire life.
With the pace Flambae walks, they’re at his place within fifteen minutes.
“The fuck was that all about?” Robert asks the second the door is closed, confused but also a little mad. This asshole has the audacity to take him somewhere to try and help him, only to leave and drag him along for no fucking reason. And for what?
“None of your business.” Flambae shuts him down, walking right past him as if to try and ignore him.
“No, you brought me there in the first place. You offered to help me. Yet you can’t even take me looking at someone else.” Robert snaps as he follows the other man into the kitchen. No, he isn’t going to take this shit anymore. “Don’t tell me you were fucking jealous.”
Flambae doesn’t answer to that, instead opening his fridge and grabbing the nearest can of beer before flopping down on the couch, acting like it’s just another Sunday. Acting as if his dispatcher isn’t even there.
Robert wants to scream at him for this, to grab that beer can and dump it on Flambae’s stupid head, specifically in his hair to ruin those perfect raven locks.
But the silence tells Robert everything.
“You were?” He asks, his glare falling into a confused frown, his anger fading away as the realization hits him. “Then why did you-“
“Because I didn’t know I was, bitch.” Flambae cuts him off, sounding utterly exhausted, almost defeated even. How the fuck did he get jealous of a fucking waiter?
”You could’ve just asked me out, you know?” Robert points out as he sits next to the other man on the couch, not taking his eyes off of him. “Like a normal person.”
”You calling me weird?” Flambae asks a little irritated, offended to be called weird of all things. “Fuck you.”
”Or that. Whatever floats your boat. I would’ve figured myself out thanks to you anyway.” Robert ignores him, brushing the insult off. Flambae suggested that himself too, now that the dispatcher remembers. What was it again, blowing him until he has it figured out? “You owe me a drink though.”
”Well, in that case, is this enough compensation?” Flambae asks as he offers his half-empty beer can to Robert, holding it out in front of his dispatcher so that he can drink right from it, not even trying to hide the smirk on his face.
“Another Spanish coffee will due.” Robert suggests instead, letting Flambae cup his cheek, not even stopping him when he leans in a little. “Never create your own problems again, okay?”
Flambae just smiles, not promising anything.