Work Text:
“I got mulberry ice cream from the farmer's market.”
Robert raised his eyebrow at the declaration, “Are you saying that because you feel like sharing it or because you're warning me not to touch it?”
“Fuck you, I just think you should eat something that isn't diabetes in a bag.”
Chad stuffed a few more groceries into their shared fridge. Beef sniffed a few of the groceries on the floor as Robert helped stow away the more dry ingredients. It's been a week since they moved in together, ready to take another step in their relationship. Their home was mostly decorated by Chad since he had more furniture than Robert. The most he did was fill empty shelves with his textbooks, a romantic fantasy series Coop gave him during their housewarming party, and their mothers’ cookbooks.
He did add the lamps, Beef's bed, and the pull out couch as well, but that's about it for furniture Robert owned.
Everything else was whatever Chad deemed worthy enough to keep, including everything in the kitchen, dining area, most of the living room and the memory foam bed. Robert never loved to indulge in luxury, but that bed was probably one of the best things to ever exist.
Everything was a tasteful dark wood with the splashes of color coming from the rugs Chad's mother brought them and the blankets his brother made.
__
“You should pay me or something. Because this shit,” He gestured to their couch that's artfully draped with a red and orange knitted blanket on the corner, “This shit is great. Absolute perfection.”
“But I do pay you, jagiya. I'm the one who looks through the payroll before Mandy turns it in.” He let Beef loose onto their new apartment. The little potato fairy sniffed around his surroundings as if he hadn't visited this space before. Beef darted around with surprising agility before making a bee line to the couch. He hopped onto the space where the blanket was draped, did a little circle before curling up into a donut, oblivious of the two men staring at him, "Looks like Beef agrees with you, though. You do make a good interior decorator.”
“Good? I'm the motherfucking best,” Chad captured Robert's waist.
From behind, the flame user started to talk in the most high-pitch voice he could muster, “Yes, Bob-Bob. Chad's the absolute best decorator ever.”
“No,”Robert shoved Chad's face away when he leaned in for a kiss, “No, that was my thing. You don't get to kiss me after stealing my joke.”
“C'mon, Bobert, you enjoyed it.”
Beef blissfully ignored their playful banter, getting cozy in his spot on the soft blanket.
__
Yes, Chad did have a brother that knits. No, Chad does not make fun of him because it's good that Soroush (Seth being his US legal name) has a hobby outside of running an accounting firm. He quotes, “If I had to run around taking care of three workaholics, I'm going to turn into a silver fox. Not an actual silver fox, because that's dumb. But one of those daddy-types that attracts sugar babies because I'm that good looking. Shit, I just realized I would look amazing as an old man. Not yet, though.”
Just one of the many things that Robert got to learn when they started dating. There's drawings made by Layla, Chad's niece, pinned onto the fridge. A lot of them starring the man himself and a recent addition of both him and Beef. One in particular always caught his eye. A picture of him, Layla, Beef, and Chad all sitting on the roof with the sun shining down.
__
It was nerve-wracking, meeting his boyfriend's family. He wore a navy turtleneck and some sharp slacks as he stood outside the house. The closest he got was a video call his ex set up between them and her Aunt Myrna. With Aunt Myrna being the absolute worst person ever despite his then girlfriend loving her to bits.
But Chad's family wasn't like a racist aunt that would cause a break up so bad he ended up in the dumpster. No, Chad's family was wholesome. An older brother and sister who loved Chad enough to reconnect after jail. Who helped shape the hero standing right besides him, determined to set a good example for his niece. A pair of parents who tried to be there for their son despite how much he wanted to distance himself.
What did Robert have? Two dead parents and an older brother-father figure who heavily disliked Chad.
Maybe he should leave. He's not made for family meetings. It's not too late to run-
Before he could move, a little girl opened the door. She couldn't be older than six years old. The young girl, Layla if he recalled correctly, was wearing a signed Mecha Man Blue jacket over a rainbow sweater and denim overalls. The clothes clashed so hard, but she wore it so unapologetically that he couldn't help but see Chad in her.
“Are you my uncle's future husband?”
“Uhh-”
“Layla! That's not how we greet people at the door,” a woman's voice came from inside the house.
“But it's true, Maman! Dayi wants to marry a cat man one day and the cat man is right there.”
The little girl was gently nudged to the side by a gentle hand. His tail swished as a pair of amber eyes so similar to Chad's meet his, “I am so sorry about her. I'm Forozan, but you can call me Rosa if that's easier.”
“Mooom!”
“And this little troublemaker is Layla.”
Robert gave them an awkward smile, “Yeah, Chad told me a lot about you guys. I think we're going to Layla's summer choir next month?”
“Of course Dayi Kazim is. I beat Trisha for the solo! She said I couldn't, but I did and now she's my nemesis.”
“You mean your rival, jigaram,” She gently combed through Layla's wavy hair.
“Nuh-uh, she's my nemesis because she stole the last peanut butter cookie at the Christmas Party when I called dibs. That's not just rival behaviour, it's nemesis behavior.”
He felt his awkward smile melt into something softer, more genuine, “Well, if they're anything like your uncle's cookies, I could see why you would call it that.”
“Exactly! See, maman? He gets it.”
“Why don't you come in, Robert? You could tell us how exactly my younger brother managed to bring you here. If you're entertaining enough, I'll tell you about the time he accidentally set fire to our older brother's birdhouse.”
Maybe it was the way Layla and Forozan looked so expectantly at him, as if he was worth knowing simply because Chad had chosen him out of the many men falling over their feet for him. Maybe Robert was one to cave underneath such warmth he didn't deserve. But he was already here so fuck it. Guess he can't leave now.
So Robert stepped inside.
__
Robert felt a warm hand settle near the base of his tail before it trailed up his spine, “Mrrp- okay, that was out of nowhere. What brought this on?”
“You were thinking too hard again. Also, I like hearing you purr.”
“That wasn't a purr, that was a trill. Two totally different sounds.”
“Purr, Trill, same thing. Both of them are happy noises that cats make,” Chad closed the fridge, “By the way, it's your turn to make dinner.”
Did Robert feel like making dinner for himself? No, he doesn't like doing that. He was always taught that there were more efficient and less expensive ways to fill your stomach. But he always made an exception for the flame user, given that food was practically his love language. It was what prompted Flambae to feed Robert like (in his words) ‘a feral stray’, which felt both hilarious and kind of a dig at his whole feline situation.
Which then made Robert reply in kind, swapping lunches like kindergarteners who held hands in the playground and occasionally wrestled in the mud.
__
Robert had a lunchbox in hand. He looked back down at the plastic containers. Well, it was more of a tower if Robert's being honest. Three tiers of fumbled recipes and maybe too much effort. Then again, the effort probably outweighed the sheer amount of food Flambae has been shoving his way.
What if Robert just stashed it and brought Flambae to the new food truck near his apartment? The one that Courtney swore by because of their Adobo and Bistek burritos. Maybe that would be better than the recipes he probably butchered. His mother was an amazing cook from what he could remember, but it probably didn't translate well for Robert who hadn't touched a kitchen in nearly decades.
Despite following his mother's recipes to a T, he knew that his version of a handful was different from his mother's smaller hands. That his taste buds were conditioned to think that edible was ‘good enough.’ There's a reason why he never corrected his team when it came to his ‘white boy’ taste because he can say for certain that most of his life was spent eating microwaved dinners and the occasional take-out.
And now he was giving Flambae, the biggest food snob, a meal that was only guided by ten different YouTube channels, his mom's cookbook and some half-remembered tastes.
Yeah, he should probably use this for dinner instead. The food truck option suddenly looked more appealing by the second.
“Damn, bitch. You feedin’ an army with that?”
Or not.
Prism strolled into the breakroom with Flambae in tow, looking at his plastic monstrosity in interest, “Huh, never thought you'd own one of those. Last time I saw one was when this east asian kid brought a similar container to school. Had a whole buffet stashed in there.”
“Not really a buffet, it was probably side dishes. Banchan and all that.”
“What?”
“You know, we like variety and shit. Didn't you say you wanted that in my life? Well here, variety. You're welcome.” You know what? If he's going to be made fun of, he might as well go down swinging.
“Hold on, what do you mean ‘we’? As in the person who made this and yourself? Because just standing in the kitchen doesn't get you any gold stars.”
Oh wow, that fucking hurt. Not toward Robert, no, but to the mother he was just now recalling. The one he spent two decades of his life forgetting because of something his powers did.
“No, you flaming asshole, I meant ‘we’ as in the collective Korean community. I made that lunch because you keep feeding me and maybe it would've been nice to make you something for once,” He sighed, this was a mistake, “But if you think that this is unnecessary, then I could just-”
“Give it.”
He saw Flambae's hand outstretched, “Do you want me to shake paws with you too?”
“You're such a hissy bitch. I mean give the food that's obviously meant for me. I'll be the judge of what's good or not.”
A petty part of Robert wanted to toss the food into Flambae's face, but seeing how…unguarded he was made Robert think twice on that. He handed the flame hero the three tiered lunchbox.
“There's utensils between layers one and two.”
“Pfft, of course your lunch set has fucking layers, Mecha Pussy. Can't do shit like normal people,” He set the tiered lunchbox down before grabbing his own Tupperware from the fridge, heating it in his hand and placing it from across his seat, “Here's your usual, by the way.”
He took a plastic spoon from the cabinet before sitting down as well, looking at Prism who was halfway out the door, “Nuh-uh, you guys go ahead. I have lunch with Mal and your gay ass courtin’ ritual ain't gonna stop me.”
“Okay, okay. See ya,” Flambae looked at his best friend before shouting after her, “And make sure you wear a condom.”
“Bitch!” She flipped the bird right as she left, making Flambae snort. Now that it's just the both of them, it's even more nerve-wracking watching this.
Flambae separated each layer with flair, feeding into the dramatics before unveiling each container. The first had four small sections. One contained omelet rolls that had Robert tugging his hair out until he caved and bought a proper pan for it. It took him a whole carrot and one eighth of the chives he bought to have it come out decent. The boiled mung bean sprouts were easier, just tossing it lightly with some sesame oil, garlic, scallions, and a dash of fish sauce after boiling it in hot, salted water.
The cabbage kimchi was strictly his mother's recipe. In all of the haze, making actual kimchi with her was the one of things he remembered clearly. The way it smelled and how he always dove in for seconds… The last section had a couple of muscat grapes because he always preferred green over purple.
The second layer was more heavy, containing a potato salad that was always his favorite. What made his mother's gamja salad stand out was the fact that she soaked the carrots in the rice syrup before adding both of them to the mix of mayo, salted cucumber, and finely mashed egg. It made the carrots taste so much better in Robert's humble opinion. Right beside it were two more partitions.
One contained a simple radish and seaweed salad while the other was typical bulgogi. The salad was a bitch to make compared to the bulgogi considering he had to squeeze the ocean smell off of the seaweed. Whatever Robert couldn't get out, he masked it with vinegar and a bit of seasoning.
However, the main star of the show was the third tier, split into two. One was purple rice. It took Robert at least three different asian stores to find the type of rice his mom made for special occasions. The sweet aroma was undeniable as it mingled with the more savory stew next to it. Robert was sure he fucked that one up because he couldn't figure out how to make his taste exactly like his mother's. No matter how many times he tweaked the measurements, his soybean stew could never turn out as delicious as hers.
He watched as Flambae looked at the spread in bewilderment, “Yes, I cooked all of this.”
“I know that. I'm just wondering why you always eat that processed crap if you could make something like this?”
“Twinkies aren't crap. Besides, cooking for myself felt like a waste of time.”
Especially if he couldn't afford most of the things he COULD cook. Nice groceries left to rot in his fridge because he was too busy flying around the city to even consider taking the time and energy to cook. Slowly, even the more frozen foods became more of a want than a need. Fresh food just didn't seem as important as buying more oil and screws for the suit. As soon as Beef came into the picture, he had to eat the bare minimum so his chihuahua never starved as badly as his owner.
“But you'd do this for me? Dude, that's…”
Robert could practically hear the next words. Which one would it be? Will it be ‘sad’, ‘pathetic’, or Robert’s personal favorite phrase, ‘a waste of both their times’?
“...Nice, I guess. Really shows that you take shit care of yourself, but it's nice to see this.” Flambae mumbled that last part, but Robert definitely picked it up, “Anyways, just because you made a lot doesn't mean it tastes good.” He aggressively pointed his spoon at Robert before mixing a bit of the soup with the rice.
It was painfully slow, watching him chew the food carefully before his eyes widened.
“What the actual fuck is this? Did Mal hit you with magic?”
“Is it that bad?”
“No, no this is the opposite of bad. This is fucking fire.”
Flambae took another bite and another. Before he knew it, he demolished half of the contents. The little noises he made in between each spoonful had Robert squirming.
Feeling hungry himself, he opened his own Tupperware and saw a beautiful chicken korma with long grain rice. It was one of the foods that Chad would feed him frequently. If Robert had to pin down what kind of cuisine the flame user would bring, he would guess it was a mix of traditional foods and more popular dishes like baked salmon. He smiled before digging in, letting the spices coat his tongue while the velvety base slid down his throat smoothly. It was such a good meal in comparison to his own attempts, clearly made by somebody with experience. He suppressed his own groan as they ate, letting the food do all the talking for them.
“We should do this again sometime. Unless you're a one hit wonder, mecha bitch,” He polished off his lunch with the muscat grapes, popping one into his mouth like one of those Roman emperors.
He shrugged, hoping his face didn't betray his turbulent emotions. “If you wanted a free lunch, you could just say so.”
Thus the birth of a weekly tradition was born.
__
Of course, swapping meals couldn't really work after moving in together. Besides, Robert didn't want to take Chad's domain from him unless prompted.
Like right now.
“We still have that day-old rice and roasted chicken in the fridge, right? What if I made some kimchi fried rice and eggs?”
“God, I was hoping you would make that. Ever since Alice got us watching this k-drama, all I could think of was the stuff you make.”
He shook his head, “You're always free to borrow my mom's cookbook, you know. She would've loved it if you knew how to make something from her recipes.”
“I know, but today's last shift was straight up ass and I genuinely don't feel like cooking.”
Ah yes, a pile up including an entire convoy of poultry. Luckily, the livestock was relatively unharmed. But that also meant at least a hundred ducks and chickens blocking the intersection. It was so bad that not even Golem could keep up with the chaos. Most if not all of the Z-team had to be deployed, including Chad.
“Besides, it tastes a tiny bit better when you make it.”
After storing their respective rice types, he stood up and leaned against the counter, “A tiny bit?”
“Okay, okay. Food made by you tastes special. There, happy? Making me all sappy and shit.”
He rewarded his boyfriend's honesty with a kiss on the cheek, “Very.”
After a quick but filling dinner, the both of them were seated on the couch. Beef was in Robert's arms as Chad held the both of them, making the more feline instincts inside him feel warm and safe. They had a comforter around them as they both watched something that they could both make fun of. A certain little film that had horrible BDSM etiquette and leads with the least amount of chemistry he's ever seen. It was dog shit and absolutely fun to tear down.
“Bitch, Rich CEOs are a red flag. Run from that Vanderstank-clone.”
“You know they can't hear you, right?” Robert nestled himself closer to Chad. Beef was busy enjoying the combined warmth of both his humans, content to be hugged by his favorite person.
“Mi vida, mi corazon, please shut the fuck up. Just because they only exist in Lala land doesn't mean I can't scream at their stupid decisions.”
“At the very least, we're not watching the whole After series. Pretty sure that Courtney had us watching that just so she had somebody to cringe with. Didn't think entertainment could sink that low.”
“Bob-bob, what you described was shitty mental torture. That's not a movie marathon.”
Unlike what most people would have you believe, Robert can be aware of his purring tendencies. Which was why he was letting Chad feel it as he pressed his back against his lover's side.
“We should probably watch something that doesn't make me want to claw my eyes out next time,” He snorted, “But do you want to hear something cursed?”
“What can possibly be worse than crappy fanfiction movies?”
“My dad had this signed box set of Adam Sandler Movies.”
“No fucking way.”
“Oh yeah, he had this signed box set in the living room. I couldn't watch it because nothing was ‘age appropriate’, but I'm pretty sure he just didn't want me touching it.”
With his arm draped over Robert's shoulder, Chad accommodated his leaning figure, “Was it a half-decent collection? Or the really shitty stuff?”
“It had his animated Hanukkah movie.”
“That,” Chad blinked a few times, “That's a thing? You're not fucking with me, right?”
“They had an entire ballroom singing about how they screwed one guy over. Given, the story itself was fine. It was just the humor that really tanked the message.”
“Okay, you really are fucking with me. There's no way- holy shit, that knee slide is well animated,” He squinted at Robert's phone screen and watched the ten seconds clip, “Go them, I guess.”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure my dad just got the nearest box set available. Never got rid of it though…”
“This is the first time I heard your sperm donor act with an emotion that isn't anger or cold as fuck. Why did it have to be over Adam Sandler of all things? Why can't he like Mark Hamill like the rest of us?”
“Dunno, but it's one of the things that stuck to me. Pretty crazy that I don't know anything else about him…”
They watched Anastasia Steele fly on the helicopter toward her cold, sterile cage.
“That's his mistake, Bob-bob.”
After another thirty minutes, he was about to doze off until Chad gently nudged him to move, “Hey, I think we deserve some ice cream after watching Vanderstank's vampire cousin try to get some pussy. Want any?”
“I'll just steal from your bowl,” Beef wiggled out of Robert's hold now that they had to move. He set the dog down so he can trail Chad into the kitchen.
By the time Chad came back, he was already unfurling himself from the little burrito he bundled himself in. Purple ice cream came into view as a he's given a medium sized bowl to hold. One downside of fire powers meant that ice cream melted faster in one's hands.
They watched as Miss Steele decided that ‘she needed time to visit her mother’. Chad ate a spoonful of ice cream before scooping up another one and feeding it to Robert.
Just as the flavor hit his tongue-
_
Robert was half awake on a cot when he overheard his father and an automaton. The smell of mulberries surrounded him like poison as he felt something gone.
Something was missing.
But what was it?
“-will lessen his sense of appetite. Asides from that and his m̴̨̨̧̞͚͉̤̱̞̼͓̻̲͓̤͗̎e̴͎̱̖͉̻̠͓̝͕̗̖͎̒̓̍͒̽̈́̓̉̕̕m̴̩̲̺̠̖̯̻̻͖̬̟͔͕͓̝̳̀͂̆̍̋̒̀̅̋̊̒͜ǫ̵̩̖̩̺̮̔̒̃̀̾̾̄͌̊̓̾̒̔̉̋͘͝r̶̨̘͓̣͓̙̼̰͙͖̲̬̫̿i̸͎̟̜͆̽͒̐̃͑́̎̉͗̒̈́̈̀̚e̶̢͓͍̜͎͚̎͌͂̋͗ş̸̢̹̜̩̻̣̬͑̊͒̃͐̾̑̈́̌̅͐̄̀̃̕̕͘ͅ, your son is as average as he could be.”
“Good. And there's nothing that can accidentally release the seal?”
“Unless your wife has some power that can override it, I highly doubt anything can undo my bindings.”
“No, no. Yuna said they were cosmetic and a bit instinctual because of how diluted her bloodline was. She wouldn't lie to me.”
“In any case, you've got your wish. Whatever concerns you may have are no longer my business. Leave once your offspring awakens. You and the rest of the Robertson line shall no longer darken my doorstep.”
__
“Azizam, are you okay?”
Ice cream was on their wooden floors. He caught Beef licking the remnants as he found himself shedding tears. The movie was paused as he looked down at his hands. Shit, he hasn't cried like this in a while.
His mind was drawing blanks as he could barely register Chad's warm hand against his shoulders.
“He knew…”
Robert wiped the tears off his face, trying to reel in his emotions. He wished that it was some sort of post-coma hallucination, but deep in his heart he knew that it was real.
That his dad knew he'd forget his mom. No, not only that.
His dad lied about his mom being in the hospital and never being there.
Robert thought it was his fault. That it was him who made up all that shit because he was so heartbroken that he blocked out everything, his dad playing along with his charade. But it wasn’t.
A plethora of memories suddenly deluged him. Memories of helping his mother cook, of them playing hide and seek in the tall grass. Oh god, Robert had an obscene amount of wind-up mice that he would run after while his mom and Vitalia would watch.
He had a normal childhood up until her death.
What was once in a fog was now laid bare for him to remember.
“Holy shit- They're gone! Where did your limbs go?!”
He raised his right hand and felt his ear. His very human ear. Rather than a cat ear with a nick in it, it was the same ear that got shot through after he was stupid enough to destroy the suit with just a hammer.
No, they were still there. Just not visible anymore. He could still feel them like phantom limbs.
“Remember, Gilyoung-ah, feel the ebb and flow of your blood. Like the moon waxes and wanes, we too can make the softest parts of ourselves show and hide.”
What cryptic nonsense. Robert was a guy who needed clear instruction. Poetry did jack shit for his predicament. And yet…and yet he could recall the way his mother helped him hide his limbs from dad. It was like tucking in his stomach or straightening his back, yet not at the same time.
Rather than holding it in, he let the flow of energy go.
Ears flickered back into existence and his tail curled around Chad's hand. This felt better.
Less restraining.
That's when he felt it. It was so similar to how nice and warm the light inside his heart was. He looked at Chad and saw the source of that comfort.
Flambae always looked amazing with flames dancing to his whim. Like seeing a dolphin in water, he was made for fire. For the warmth of the hearth and the blaze of a wildfire. But the warmth that Robert felt wasn't that, no. It was what was inside Chad that made him snap back to reality.
“Bob-bob, what the actual fuck is going on?”
He could see the wisps of good luck radiating off of his boyfriend, so similar to what he'd imagine the sun would look like up close. Inside his chest, if he concentrated deep enough, was a small ball of condensed fortune. It had a few parts cracked or chipped out, but it still shone so brightly despite that. So much like the person this core was inside of.
“Yin often attracts Yang. You’ll understand that when you start seeing everybody’s path, Gilyoung-ah. Those blessed with warmth and healing are usually the best kind. Their lights are so bright. So-”
“-beautiful.”
“Mi Amor…Your eyes are blue now. Why are they shining like LEDs? Mal said that demons can't possess other demons, but you're making me rethink that right now.”
“I think I can see your fortune.”
“Shit, what?”
“It's good. A bit rough around the edges, but so pretty like you.”
Gravity fought him and won as he crumpled into Chad's embrace, “As much as I love being reminded of how awesome I am, this isn't the time. Robert, how out of it are you?”
“Not out of it. Just getting used-” He tried to get rid of his whole fortune vision, blinking it out of his system, “Used to this.”
A moment of silence between the two of them.
“And what is ‘this’, love?”
Robert met Chad's eyes. So full of concern and confusion as he let out a cold laugh. More tears fell from his faulty tear ducts as Beef nuzzled his head underneath Robert's hand.
“‘This’ is me remembering everything.”
Chad guided him to the couch as he kept thinking back to different times from his toddler years. The inconsequential parts like giving his mother a butterfly to the meltdown that had his dad racing down the freeway like a madman. He had to get rid of all his wind up mice after ‘hunting’ down his dad's birthday gift a year after his mom died. Robert now knew that his mom loved black sesame paste and bought some pre-made jars of it just to snack on.
His mom was secretly scared of his dad finding out her true powers.
His dad was a shell of a man when his mom died.
He was so overwhelmed that it took both Beef and Chad before he could ground himself to the present. Before he could be overwhelmed by everything and nothing at all. Standing over him was his boyfriend, steady like an anchor.
“Don't you want answers? I can't,” He winced at another influx of useless factoids and even more childhood trauma, “I can't promise too much but I'll try.”
“Not right now. You look like you're about to collapse like a damn Victorian lady.”
“Aren't you the one who wears corsets here?” He tried to give him a self-defeated smile, but his face felt wobbly.
“Gilyoung.”
Kazim looked at him intensely. The tears start anew as Kazim cupped Robert's head and kissed the crown of his head. Robert doesn't do anything but melt into his hold. Feeling the weight of the revelation sunk him into the couch as Beef whined on his lap.
“I-I can't…He made me forget, Kazim. He made me forget and lied about it all.”
“Who's- oh fuck, you mean your dad? That's fucked up. Shit, mi gatito atesorado, come here.”
“I was six, Kazim.”
He felt the temperature rise as he made Kazim let go and started hugging Beef. The poor chihuahua felt his owner's grief and started licking the tears away. Kazim sat down, pulling Robert into a hug.
“Fuck him. Fuck him for doing this to you.”
Was it minutes? Hours? He didn't know. All he knew was that he had his memories robbed by the man he believed in and that their polished floors will turn into a sticky mess if somebody doesn't clean it soon. This was supposed to be their quiet weekend night and it was ruined by mulberry ice cream of all things. He hated himself because Kazim deserved more than a ticking emotional time bomb of a partner who couldn't properly compartmentalize his mommy and daddy issues like he used to.
If this was Robert a year ago, he would be half way through a bottle of shitty whiskey and had enough strength to rationalize his dad's decision. Maybe he'd be dissociating, but it was better than what he's doing now.
Hell, he could understand why it had to happen. His dad probably didn't know how to handle a half-feral kid with highly sensitive hearing and it made him worry. Robbie Robertson probably wanted to stop the hurt the only way he knew how, which was getting rid of the problem entirely. It was a move of a desperate parent who only knew love by using practical solutions rather than poetry or understanding.
Robbie was a great man.
Robbie was a shit father.
Which is why it hurt Robert all the more.
Memories of his mother's love and care all locked away because his dad was too scared of dealing with him. Is that why his mom was so scared all the time? If his dad knew he could essentially curse somebody by accident, would he still have gone through or try something even worse? Or would he have Robert train it in a specific way, hoping he could use it for the Mecha Man legacy?
There's no use speculating because now that Robert has unlocked all of his powers, he has to get used to it. Again. Like a third fucking puberty.
Step back and think.
Maybe he could ask Malevola for help. Or look around K-town until he found somebody like him to further explain all this. His mother's lessons as a child could only do so much now that he remembered. He'll get this under control because getting rid of these parts would be discarding everything he worked on over the past year.
It would be the true death of Robert ‘Gilyoung’ Robertson the Third.
His cries calmed into a feeling of catharsis. Mind clearing so that he could make plans of how to handle all this. But before that, he needed to clean the damn ice cream puddle near them.
Robert reached for Kazim's hand, holding it tight. Beef licked the leftover tear stains. His precious mind probably thought that he did his job well given the tail wagging.
“I'll figure this out, I promise.”
“You mean ‘we’ are going to figure this out. Together.”
“But-”
“Who has control over the fire and the flame? Me. It might not be luck and all that other bullshit, but you're not the only one with powers. Pretty sure I can get Alice to help you with the LED thing since it's so bright.”
“It's not really an illusion thing, but sure.” More lightness entered his voice as Kazim listed everybody he wanted to tell.
“Ugh, that would also mean Mal because Alice is boning her and Wetfartboy plus she's half-demonic like you. And if Mal gets involved, bat boner gets an in on it too. Fuck, he's gonna make those stupid hybrid solidarity crypto things again and try to make you into an asmr vtuber for the second time.”
“Okay, now you're making it sound like an orgy.”
“Ew, no. Alice is, like, my queen but not that kind of queen,” Kazim grimaced at the thought, “Shit does that mean we'll have to get Colm, too? Because of curses and shit? Maybe Janelle too…Ah fuck it, let's just get the whole team involved.”
“They don't have to all know I got new powers going on.”
“Do you want them breathing down our necks? Nah, this sounds like a team effort. A Z-team effort.” The way he said it in such a specific way brought him out of that cathartic funk.
Robert groaned into his hands, “I shouldn't have introduced you to Game Theory. Why did I introduce you to MatPat?”
“Because you love me and wanted me to have a hobby that both I and your wet borzoi could share together?”
“Fuck, you're right. That was a mistake.”
“You're just mad that I'm always right, gatito.”
The three of them stared at the half-licked puddle on the floor, letting Robert forget his worries even for just a moment.
“We're definitely cleaning that before it ruins the floor,” Despite saying that, Robert made no effort to move from his spot.
“Oh definitely. Do we need to call the old man, by the way?”
“Probably tomorrow. We'll tell Mandy on Monday so the paperwork gets done. Probably Royd too in case it messes with the suit's specs.”
“Ugh, that sounds so boring compared to the epic training montage we'll set up for you.”
Robert finally moved to get up, Beef expressing his displeasure by clinging onto Kazim as a heating pad.
Traitor.
Before he could grab their mop from the bathroom, he felt Kazim grab his wrist. Robert looked behind him, seeing both of his loved ones lounging there like a dream. There's an earnestness in both their gazes. Amber and dark brown eyes look at him with this reassurance that everything will be alright.
“You're not alone, Gilyoung. Not anymore.” ‘I love you’
“I know.” ‘I love you, too.’