Work Text:
@TorranceEveningNews tweets
A clip from the evening broadcast. Members of the Z-Team were interviewed on-scene following a villain attack on a local park. The last interview is with Robert.
Villain attack on local neighborhood park stopped by the Z-Team, up and coming superhero team with the Superhero Dispatch Network. In this interview we get their thoughts on the incident. For more information, please visit our official website.
@sillystringscandal retweets with caption
wait holy fuck who is that last guy
It had been a hectic afternoon.
Right after lunch there had been an influx of calls across Torrance, all having something to do with animal attacks. In rapid succession Flambae had been dispatched to handle: a cat attacking a couple on a date, a family of three having their picnic stolen by a giant crow, and a raccoon breaking into a singles event and destroying the snack table.
He barely had time to sit down before he was sent on another call and the rest of the team was in the same boat, their rosters displaying downtime for half a second before Robert was exhaustedly sending them the locations of animal shelters with mass breakouts or customers being attacked by free-roaming birds at a pet store.
“I swear to fucking god, if I have to deal with another turtle snapping at ankles I’m going to quit and run to Canada.” Invisigal huffed over the comms, the puff of her inhaler following quickly after.
There was a wave of agreement over comms. “I know guys, I’m sorry.” Robert’s voice droned to the backdrop of his frantic typing and the chatter of other dispatchers. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m trying to give you guys a break but- fuck. Hey, Punch-Up, there’s a class pet boa constrictor loose in a third grade classroom. Sending you the location.”
It all came to a head a couple of hours later when they had gotten several frantic calls about a girl in a park who seemed to be accumulating local wildlife. Turns out the girl had the ability to communicate to animals and make them do her bidding. Following a messy breakup, she decided to take out her rage by making her furry subjects attack happy couples.
Robert had dispatched all of them to the park, hoping with the full team they could take her down as quickly and non-injurously as possible. It took them nearly an hour of dodging rabid squirrels and raccoons but eventually they managed to talk the girl down and gently recommend some good therapists.
By the end of it all they were tired, covered in tiny claw marks, and in desperate need of a drink. Luckily for all of them there seemed to be a hero bar nearby. Most importantly, it was one they hadn’t been banned from yet.
They had managed to bully Robert into coming along this time with the promise he wouldn’t have to get the first round (although the other rounds were undecided). None of them wanted to go all the way back to the office and change, more than content to sit on grass and playground wood chips and let their powered healing take care of the hopefully-not-rabid bites. Even Malevola was too tired to throw together a quick portal to the locker room.
Robert agreed to grab the things they had left behind in their lockers– phones, wallets, extra-strength body glitter– and meet them there. While he was on the way and the team was giving their statements to the cops, a news van pulled up and immediately started coercing them into interviews.
It was safe to say that none of them were exactly PR trained, but they weren’t idiots. They knew the public perception of the Z-Team had a huge impact on the Phoenix Program and thus tried to keep their smiles wide and swearing to a minimum. Plus, it helped that Prism was there to stand behind them and kick their ankles.
Robert got there just as the last interview with a panicked, stammering Waterboy was deemed as a lost cause. He started passing out valuables when a microphone was shoved in his face. A man with a disconcertingly wide smile and a cameraman with dead eyes stood before him. “I’m Micheal with Torrance Evening News and we’re here covering the attack. Do you work with the team?”
Robert looked like a deer in headlights, those giant brown eyes that Flambae absolutely did not think about late at night, fuck you very much, widened in surprise. “I’m their dispatcher. Sorry, I really don’t have time for an interview-”
“Their dispatcher? Oh, fantastic!” Robert was subsequently dragged to a quieter area, glaring as the team cackled and made no move to help him. Thankfully it seemed to end quickly, Robert’s forced smile and voice raspy with overuse making him a less than ideal subject.
That seemed to be the end of things. They went to the bar, got only a little too drunk for a weeknight, and Chad stumbled back home with a tipsy Alice to collapse into his fireproof sheets. Post-bar bestie debriefs were always his favourite part of the night but they decided to delay it to the next morning when they were slightly more conscious.
Thanks to his powers Chad seemed to burn off alcohol quickly, which sucked so bad, but it came with the delightful side effect that a couple hours of sleep sufficiently killed any hangover. That didn’t make it any less pleasant when he woke up to Alice smacking his shoulder with urgency.
“Bitch, what the fuck?” He groaned, rolling over and sending a glare he hoped conveyed his irritation properly.
“Bae, shut the fuck up and look at this shit.” A phone was shoved into his face and he winced, the phone screen blindingly bright in the room only lit by a slowly rising sun. He took the phone, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and taking a few moments to figure out what he was looking at.
@ineedpedropascal69 tweets
give me five minutes alone with him and i’ll make a robert robertson the fourth
@alexisreallytired. retweets with caption
i could make him a mother
@bookslut18 tweets
Need that twink. All positions, all day, whenever and wherever he wants
@huhwhynot retweets with caption
So real. Devastated that they’ve been hiding this man from us
@rubberduckies retweets with caption
no fr. i was lowkey crushing on flambae but this average white man has captivated me
@ratenthusiast tweets
He’s not a normie, his power is making me hard every time I rewatch that bit where he looks into the camera and says ‘I’m proud of my team’
@kpopismylife retweets with caption
This man could make a KILLING in audio porn
Chad blinked, blaming the early hour on the fact his brain couldn’t compute what he was looking at. “The fuck is this?” Alice snatched her phone back, her face far too close to the screen as she scrolled with a ferocity.
“You know how we all got interviewed yesterday?” Chad nodded, sitting up slowly. “It got posted online and now every bitch in LA is thirsting over our fucking dispatcher.” There was a wave of irritation in his chest as he leaned over to read as she scrolled, each post with a more and more heinous description of what they wanted to do to Robert.
“No fucking way. That vanilla bitch? He’s like a solid three out of ten.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest and hoping she couldn’t hear the waver in his voice.
Alice gave him an unimpressed look. “Be so for real. We both know you have a crush on that little white bread man.” She turned back to her phone, scrolling a little more slowly as she ignored his stammering. “Damn, I knew Twitter could get thirsty but this is on another level.”
She continues to scroll as they get ready, pick up some of the greasiest hangover food in California, and walk into SDN. She even continues to scroll as Robert calls roll, several hungover groans over the comms.
“Prism?” Flambae shoves her in the shoulder, finally pulling her attention away from the screen.
“My bad. I’m here, Robbo. Hey, have you checked Twitter today?”
“I don’t have Twitter. I’m not really on social media.”
Chad rolls his eyes. Of course. “Makes sense.” Sonar chirps, already out on a call. Something about a loose swarm of bees. “You’re like, the most chronically offline one here. Besides maybe Coop. No offense.”
“None taken. I have very little interest in digital entertainment.”
“Too busy reading your fairy porn, right?” Golem rumbles.
“Hey, can we get back to my thing?” Prism adjusts her hair in her locker mirror, Flambae sitting next to her with an imploring look. “You’re not on social media? Like, at all?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, maybe make an account because everyone on Twitter wants to fuck you.”
There’s an uproar over comms, Invisigal being especially loud with a muttered comment about not being crazy. Robert manages to settle them, eventually responding with a weak, “Mind clarifying?
Prism turns to Flambae with a grin as she responds. “That news station posted a clip of our interview and Twitter thinks you’re the hottest thing since my last single. Maybe you can finally get a date.” Flambae pantomimes strangling her.
“I… appreciate the information, but we’re wasting time. Waterboy, do you mind helping a swim instructor with a belligerent parent?”
“No prob-problemo, boss!”
Flambae does his absolute best to put the entire situation out of his mind. As much as he hates to admit it and would rather die before saying it out loud, Robert was unfortunately very, very hot. It was fucking absurd and more than once he had caught himself smoldering along the shoulders at the prospect of wanting to bone down a depressed, skinny little white boy.
He manages to ignore it until later that night as he lays in bed, eyeing the blue and white icon. He angrily exhales as he gives into the temptation and clicks, tossing onto his side.
@r.robertsonIII tweets with a photo and a caption
A selfie of him standing outside, holding Beef in his other arm. He smiles at the camera, hair slightly tousled and the first button of his SDN work shirt undone.
I was informed of my new fame and decided to finally make an account. Glad to see that my work behind a desk doesn’t go unrecognised. This is Beef :)
@velocipastor retweets with caption
holy fuck they really do have the wrong guy behind the desk
@easywhitechocolate retweets with caption
SCREAMINGGGGG
@makeoutwithmecoward tweets
THIS IS NOT A DRILL THIS IS NOT A DRILL THJE SDN TWINK MADE AN ACCOUNT AND HE HAS A DOG AKSDJAND:IUWEH:IUH
@ratenthusiast retweets with caption
No fucking way
@ratenthusiast retweets with caption
HOLY FUCK
@XxbatboyxX tweets
really fucking weird seeing everyone thirst over my boss @r.robertsonIII don’t let the fame get to your head bob bob
@warriorcatkid06 retweets with caption
I would sell my left kidney to have him as a boss
@r.robertsonIII retweets @XxbatboyxX with caption
Glad to see you have the time to spend on social media instead of doing your incident reports. It’s so important to stay engaged with the community in this day and age.
@kpopismylife retweets with caption
AND he’s funny??? kill me
@thoseextralegopieces tweets
Does Beef need a mom? Asking for a… friend
@battlestar8902 retweets with caption
or another father????
“You are such a fucking whore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Robert leaned against the glass of the vending machine, tearing open the packet of Twinkies as he looked up at Flambae with a shit-eating grin. Chad seethed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t play dumb Mechabitch. I saw that you made an account.” One with an obscene profile picture of him in the mirror, but he wasn’t going to bring that up.
Robert shrugged, taking a bite of the snack cake and speaking around it. “So what?” He swallowed. “You guys are always saying I need to get more with the times.”
“Yeah, by watching Star Wars, not whoring yourself out on Twitter.” Robert just shrugged again, pushing off the vending machine and moving to pour himself a new cup of coffee.
“Alright, first of all, I’m not whoring myself out.” The coffee poured, room temperature from where it had been sitting on an off burner. Chad was tempted to grab the mug and heat it to the perfect temperature. He resisted, although his fingers twitched at his side. “I’m just enjoying the attention. Nothing wrong with that.”
Chad threw his hands up in the air. “You got so much fucking attention as Mecha Man and told us you hated it. How is this different?”
Robert turned, dipping his half-eaten Twinkie in the mug and taking a bite. Disgusting. Chad was going to do the exact same thing when Robert went back to his desk. “That was as Mecha Man. The attention I got was either hero worship or people saying I should be sent to a max security prison.”
He leaned against the counter, warm brown eyes meeting his. Chad took a step forward, not quite caging him but barely a foot of space between them. He wanted to reach out, brush his thumbs under those purple eye bags.
“This is as Robert. It’s surface level stuff, people saying they think I’m hot. It’s not like I’m taking them at face value or anything. It’s just funny.” Chad didn’t really have a good response to that.
He would tell the other man that if he wanted attention he could just come to him and Chad would run his fingers along those freckles, wrap his hands around that sickeningly thin waist and give him Shakespeare-level sonnets about the softness of his hair. He wanted attention? Fuck, Chad would give him more attention that he knew what to do with.
“Yeah, well, they’re lying. They just think you’re cool ‘cause you work with heroes.” Fuck, why did he say that?
Robert just sighed, shoving the last Twinkie in his mouth and tossing the wrapper in the trash. “Great talk. See you for second shift.” He turned, walking out of the breakroom with that barely concealed limp and a cup of cold, shitty coffee.
@r.robertsonIII tweets
A photo of a flyer advertising an adoption event at an animal shelter the upcoming weekend.
The shelter where I adopted Beef has an upcoming event. If you’re interested in fostering or rescuing, check them out! They’re really great and 100% non-profit.
@mechalovr69 retweets with caption
I volunteer there! Thanks for the shoutout, we have a bunch of incredible babies looking for forever homes :)
@ballsofcopper retweets @r.robertsonIII with caption
are you up for adoption as well
“I mean, it’s so unfair. All he does is sit behind a desk all day and order us around. He’s like 120 pounds soaking wet.”
“Bae,” Prism grunts from the other end of the couch they were hauling. They had been lingering lower on the leaderboard than usual and as penance fucking Robert sent them to help someone move. “Can you do this literally any other time?”
He pointedly ignores her, one arm lifting his side of the couch and the other gesticulating. “And he’s not even that funny. Everyone seems to think the guy is a fucking riot and he’s just, like, being a little bitchy. Someone said he could be a stand up comedian like a fucking liar.” He sniffs haughtily. “I could be a stand up comedian.”
“Do you have a crush on this guy or something?” The guy they were helping move approached from the back holding two cardboard boxes. “This feels a lot like pigtail pulling.”
“Fuck off.”
@twelvesixtythree30621 tweets
*A photo of a news clipping announcing the winner of a middle school science fair.*
I knew this guy looked familiar! He won my middle school’s science fair with some springtrap contraption.
@arsonarsonarson retweets with caption
HE’S SMART?? every single thing i learn about this man makes it more and more tempting to jump his bones
“Excuse me?” Robert and Chad turned from where they were standing, having been voted to go pick up dinner for the team after they had crashed at his apartment post bar crawl. A teenage girl stood a few feet away, nervously shuffling on her feet. A quick look up revealed a group of girls sat on the other side of the burger joint, watching with bated breath. “I’m like, a really huge fan. Could I get a selfie with you?”
“Of cour-” Chad starts, already smoothing his hair back in preparation when Robert cuts him off.
“Yeah, no problem. Here, I can take it.” Chad watches in abject horror as the girl, grinning widely, steps closer to Robert and shakily hands him the phone. He wraps his arm around her shoulder as respectfully as humanly possible as he smiles and snaps a photo. She accepts the phone back with a beam, bounding back over to her group and being met with squeals.
“So-”
“Another word and I burn your face off.”
@coquettecoreultimate tweets
A photo of her and Robert, the man smiling crookedly with his arm around her shoulders.
met @r.robertsonIII in person and was so excited i almost passed out. literally the nicest guy ever
@unbeatablesawtrap retweets with caption
HELLO??? i am actually seething with jealousy. what did he smell like
@r.robertsonIII retweets @cottagecoreultimate with caption
@cottagecoreultimate It was really nice to meet you!
@closetonfire retweets @r.robertsonIII with caption
bitch you are shameless
@r.robertsonIII retweets with caption
You’re just jealous she didn't ask you for a photo. Sit down and eat your burger.
@ratenthusiast retweets with caption
HELLO???????
“Dude, your follower count is insane.” Sonar absentmindedly scrolls as he leans against Robert’s desk, suit crushed from where he draped his torso over the grey particleboard.
Punch Up snorts. “It’s the power of the horny masses.” The team had come to bother Robert on their lunch break, completely uncaring of the glares other dispatchers were throwing their way.
“For real. It’s insane what people will do for a guy who looks like he has an eating disorder.”
Robert levels Malevola with a look. “Hey. In my defense, I’ve been eating better lately.”
Chad scoffs. “Yeah, when we shove it down your throat. You expect to bulk up when your lunch is a pack of chemicals and then you go work out? I’m surprised your scrawny little arms haven’t snapped under the weights yet.”
Robert shrugged, spinning slightly in his chair as he held Beef in his lap. His fingers massage little ears, the dog in question happily panting from where he was laying belly up on the man’s lap. Chad was not jealous of an obese chihuahua. “I dunno. I never really have time to make lunch in the morning. Plus, I can’t cook for shit.”
“Really?” Coupe asks, lifting her head from where she was picking the dirt out from under her nails with one of her knives. “Didn’t you live by yourself for a long time?”
“I mean, yeah, but I never had time to learn how to cook. Not like my dad ever taught me and after he died I was too busy being Mecha Man to figure it out. I mostly lived on takeout or stuff I could throw in the microwave.”
The image of teenage Robert eating takeout alone after a patrol as Mecha Man, tired and bloodied and alone made something small and desperate twist in Chad’s chest. “Bitch, that’s pathetic.”
Robert just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. It’s worked out for me so far. Leave me and my microwave lasagna alone.”
The next day Chad catches Robert in the breakroom pulling a crumpled bill out of his wallet and moving towards the vending machine. Before he gets the chance a tupperware is shoved into Robert’s face, a simple chicken and rice that Chad had spent embarrassingly long deliberating over that morning. “What’s this?”
Chad rolls his eyes. “Food, bitch. I can’t be seen in public with a real life Tim Burton character. Eat up.” He spins on his heel before the anxiety can finish mounting in his chest, scrambling away to go hide in the locker room before he can see or hear Robert’s response.
He goes back to the breakroom later that day, creeping in like someone is going to jump out of a corner and expose his raging crush. He sees the tupperware sitting in the sink, empty with a pink sticky note on top. He takes the container hesitantly, picking up the note.
‘It was really good. Thanks.’
“God, you guys need to fuck already.”
Chad does not scream as Invisigal appears over his shoulder.
@r.robertsonIII tweets
*A photo of a sunset from where he leans against his balcony. Just in frame is his other hand, the sleeve of his work shirt rolled up to expose an exceptionally well toned arm. A cigarette is held between his slim fingers.*
Go check out the sunset tonight.
@closetonfire retweets with caption
using a perfectly good sunset as an excuse to post a thirst trap. i know what you are you whore
@r.robertsonIII retweets with caption
Oh yeah? My single arm in frame is doing it for you? Or are you getting hot at the idea coming over and being my lighter?
@closetonfire retweets with caption
you couldn’t afford me anyways
@r.robertsonIII retweets with caption
I’ve seen your payroll. I know exactly how much your rate is.
@sillystringscandal retweets with caption
holy fuck??? why are they being horny on main
It was all Sonar’s fault.
They were at the bar, all inhibitions thrown to the wind now that it was the weekend and they didn’t have to wake up early to help a grandmother cross the street or whatever the fuck. Two drinks in Sonar had whipped out a joint and asked him for a light with a fanged grin.
It had been years since he had gotten crossfaded but after two Long Island Teas he relinquished any hesitation on the matter. They sat outside, passing it back and forth until it burned down and they came back in.
It seemed Prism had finally gotten her greatest wish and had convinced Robert to do karaoke. It was some shitty, corny love song from the eighties but the man stood on the little platform and sung like the words would get him even more drunk. The multicolored lights shone against the beads of sweat on his forehead, a blush from exertion crawling down his neck.
Chad wanted to know exactly how far down it went.
Before he could think better of it he snapped a photo, head pleasantly fuzzy as he held onto his phone.
@closetonfire tweets
*A photo of Robert at a bar doing karaoke. The photo was taken from below, Robert’s eyes closed in concentration as he sings. Blue and pink lights reveal sweat staining the collar of his shirt.*
i need him so bad i’m gonna cry
Chad slept like a rock, even managing to sleep in now that Alice wasn’t there to drag him to brunch like she was wont to do. Instead, he rolled over with a groan to snatch up his buzzing phone.
Bestie
bae oh my god
Me
girl what
Bestie
YOUR TWEET???
Me
???
She sent him a screenshot of the long-forgotten tweet and he froze, ice running in his veins. Fuck. Fuck. He did not just post a thirst tweet of Robert. He did not. He thought about biting the bullet and deleting it but given the other texts he had gotten from the team that would do absolutely nothing but embarrass him further.
Chad drifted around his apartment, stress cleaning and watching shitty reality TV and pointedly ignoring his phone from where he had abandoned it on his nightstand. He cooked, did a hair mask, washed his sheets, and tried in vain to find anything that would distract him from the terror of the upcoming Monday.
Later, long after the sun had set, there was a knock at the door. Chad rose, grabbing his wallet to pay for the takeout he had ordered and yanked open the door. Instead of a delivery driver at his door there was Robert, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over his chest.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
Chad scoffed, eyes darting in a desperate bid to not meet his. “What, ever heard of unplugging?” Robert just gave him an unimpressed look. Instead of justifying his jab with a response Robert stepped forward, Chad instinctively stepping back. They stood in the entrance of his apartment, door swinging shut behind him.
“Chad.” Robert started, voice much gentler. “I saw the tweet.”
Chad scowled, turning to conceal the embarrassed blush taking over his face. He didn’t respond.
“Chad. Look at me.” When he continued to disobey a hand grabbed his jaw, wrenching his gaze back. His eyes smoldered but he didn’t look away.
Robert’s lips were twisted into a small smile, eyes hooded and low with knowing. When Chad didn’t pull away he shuffled a little closer, his unoccupied hand sliding to Chad’s waist.
“Chad,” He murmured again, lowly. He looked up, the height difference staggering as Robert’s tongue came out to swipe across his bottom lip. “I need you too.”
@closetonfire tweets
*A photo of Chad and Robert laying in bed. They’re shirtless, spooning with Chad having an arm slung over Robert’s waist. Robert is still asleep but Chad is grinning, the hand of the arm holding Robert giving the camera a middle finger.*
yeah fuck you bitches he’s MINE
“Chad, why is Blazer texting me about scheduling an HR meeting?”