Work Text:
The futon Blonde Blazer had hauled through his door sits against the wall with the entrance to his cramped bathroom; it's the darkest corner of his studio but he finds it lends well when all he does in it is get some shut-eye anyway. The mattress is nice — it's soft under his body weight much unlike the lawn-chair Mandy had thrown out the other day and he finds that when he wakes up, his back isn't screaming at him in agony. He does miss the back massages he'd get from Mandy whenever he complained though.
It's homey, he thinks as he stands with a shitty cup of coffee by the kitchen counter, it brings a little more life to his barren place and it serves as a nice reminder to the first half of that house-warming party. The lamps are still scattered around the room and each of them take turns each night to illuminate the place while he microwaves his meals and does his work hunched over his computer.
Beef also appears to be a very big fan of the futon, ditching the little bed Robert had bought him just last year to cuddle up with the Mandy scented sheets that she'd brought in a couple days after Shroud's arrest. Vanilla and almond and softness is what he'd describe the scent as and while Mandy usually pushes his head away from her neck, face flushed and flustered, he just pries away her fingers and dives back in. When he thinks about it, nearly everything in his apartment smells like her now — is that still impressive when there barely is anything in it in the first place?
"What are you standing over there for?"
It's late now. The curtains have been drawn and the only light sources casting vision through the room is the stove hood and Colm's little desk lamp. Beef is at Chase's right now and it's the only reason Mandy lays in her bra and a pair of Robert's shorts on the futon; 'I'm not stripping in front of Beef– No, I'm not being ridiculous. I'm sorry if I don't want the little guy seeing me naked, Robert'. If he had a say in it, it'd be Mandy shining light on the room rather than the lamps — his eyes trace from the flats of her feet, over the illuminated curves of her hips and waist and up to her face where she's got a curious eyebrow raised at him. She's resting on her elbow, hair cascading down one of her shoulders and one leg crossed over the other.
"Can a man not just look?"
"I think the man could get a closer look if he stopped standing like an idiot by his kitchen counter."
He hums as he tips his head back, letting the rest of the coffee roll down the inner wall of his cup and into his mouth before sliding it next to the sink. He walks around the edge of the counter, taking deliberate steps until his knees brush against the edge of the futon.
"You're right," he says as he slowly crawls onto the mattress, "Much better view over here."
Mandy lets out a breathless laugh as he settles on top of her, her legs hooked loosely around the back of his and his left elbow holding him up next to her head. He leans down, lips brushing against hers before she's wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him closer — the kiss is slow and unhurried and Mandy sighs as her hand slowly slides down from the back of his neck to cup his cheek.
"Your breath stinks of coffee," Mandy whispers as they part and Robert can't help the smile that cracks across his face.
"Calm it with the dirty talk, Miss Mandy. Are you trying to turn me on?"
A kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips and Robert can feel her smile against his skin, "Was me buying you a comfortable place to sleep not good enough of an indicator for that?"
Robert rolls over to his side, propped up on his elbow as his free hand reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind Mandy's ear — it trails along her jaw, eventually settling on her cheek as his thumb rubs over the skin gently. "It is quite nice. Must've cost you a chunk, no?"
A kiss; her lips are sliding over his languidly and the tips of her fingers are slipping underneath his shirt, tracing up his stomach before resting on his chest. "You don't need to worry your head about that." And then she's swinging her leg over his body, straddling his lap and leaning down for a kiss and any complaints he has about her spending money on him die in his throat.
—
It's two in the morning when the last of the Z-Team stumble out drunkenly through his front door. It slams shut with a thud and soon a very nice, comforting silence falls over the room. Robert groans, elbows resting on the kitchen counter as he runs his hands down his face.
There's bottles everywhere, red cups, plastic utensils and paper plates scattered across the room and as he looks over the vast expanse of waste, the dread of cleaning it all up drops like a bowling ball into the pit of his stomach.
Mandy's hand rubs up and down his back. "Have you ever considered… just getting more actual plates and cutlery?"
He peeks up at her from between his fingers, "How long do you think that'd last?"
Mandy tilts her head and shifts her gaze from Robert to the room. "Plastic? Like the kid ones from IKEA?"
Robert laughs into his hands, shoulders slumping. "I don't know, maybe." He stands up, hands reaching for Mandy as he pulls her into a hug; she takes them, guiding them around her shoulders as her own hands start rubbing comforting circles up and down his back again.
"You don't have to worry about it," Mandy mumbles into his chest, "I'll help you clean up, okay?"
He groans, shaking his head. "It's my apartment, you don't have to do that."
Mandy leans back slightly, hands coming to cup Robert's face instead, "I want to," and then she pouts, "Let me?"
Robert rolls his eyes but he can't deny the power of Mandy's pleading eyes, "Tomorrow morning, okay? We'll–" he yawns, "We'll get some sleep first."
She pats him on the shoulder and nods, hands falling until they take his and lead him towards the futon. "Agreed."
The curtains have been drawn open when he wakes up and as he reaches over to pull Mandy closer, she doesn't seem to be there. He cracks his eyes open just fractionally and indeed, Mandy is not anywhere to be seen and the space next to him is painfully empty. The small digital alarm clock Mandy had insisted he get displays the time 12:34 and he rolls over onto his back as he realises that Mandy has definitely been up for at least a couple of hours at this point. His arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the light coming in through the window and as he tries to fall back asleep, he suddenly remembers the mess that is dispersed across the floor.
Robert groans, sitting up-right with his arms to support him behind his back and he looks out onto the rest of his apartment. It's a lot less of a mess than it had been last night (he has to tell Mandy to stop cleaning his place behind his back) and he really should text them and tell them all to be a little more considerate the next time they come around. His thoughts, however, are interrupted when his front door opens with a click. He startles, head whipping around towards the sound and he's about to jump out of his very warm spot on the futon before he sees Mandy walk through, bags in hand.
"Ah, he's awake at last," Mandy muses as she sets the bags down in the kitchen. "How'd you sleep?"
Robert rubs at his eyes, kneading the sleep out of his head before he carefully slides out of bed and pads his way over to the kitchen. He murmurs something underneath his breath as he stands behind Mandy and wraps his arms around her waist. "Was okay."
"Just okay?" Mandy laughs, one hand trailing behind her to scratch at his jaw while her free one begins unpacking the carrier bags, "From the way you were snoring I would've assumed that was a pretty good night for you."
He groans, tucking his head into the crook of her shoulder, "I don't snore."
"Yeah?" She hums, "I think I'm the only one that can attest to that."
Robert presses a kiss to the side of her neck, grinning lightly, "The only one?" She swats at him. He lifts his head from where it's so comfortably resting on her shoulder and when he looks at the counter, he spots a stack of colourful, plastic plates.
"Did you… go to IKEA while I was asleep?"
Mandy nudges him with her elbow, "You say that as if you weren't asleep until midday. But yes, I went and I got you some more permanent silverware options."
"I'd say that's hardly silver." He detaches himself from her waist, opting to stand next to her instead and picks up one of the plates; he taps it against the table, bends it in his hands and when it doesn't snap, he sets it back down onto the counter. "Durable enough, I guess."
"Glad it's got your stamp of approval." Then she begins to unpack another set of plates and cutlery and Robert tilts his head as he realises that this set is comprised of actual ceramic plates and metal utensils.
"I think these would…" He picks them up and taps on them with his knuckles, "Break quite quickly, won't they?"
"That's why these are for us," Mandy explains, taking the plate from his hand and gathering everything to put into his ill-organised cupboards. "For when I come around." She turns around and leans up to kiss him on the cheek. "Do you like them?"
Robert nods dumbly.
—
Boyfriends give their girlfriends their hoodies to steal, don't they? They give them oversized shirts and jumpers and watch as they walk around their apartments wearing nothing but their clothes. Robert thinks that sentiment has always been stupid — is this some strange way of marking your partner? Claiming them as yours in some weird, off-putting way? They're also both past the beginning of their thirties and whatever dumb bullshit teenagers are doing nowadays shouldn't concern them. But when he looks at Mandy as she wears the only hoodie he really owns, fabric falling off her shoulders and the skin of her thighs peeking through under his slightly oversized shorts, he doesn't think he minds as much.
Mandy's standing in front of his closet, hands on her hips as she stares into it. "Robert…" She sounds so unsure of herself, as if she's staring into a void of impossible confusion. "Do you… have anything but your work uniform and really old t-shirts in here?" She looks to him with a frown. "And why do you only have 5 pairs of boxers?"
Robert shrugs, "S'all I need."
"Right…" Mandy bites at her bottom lip and he really tries to ignore the way she's staring at him. "So when I told you we were going out to a fancy restaurant tonight, what were you planning on wearing?"
He stops, fingers stilling above his keyboard. "Uh…" What had he planned to wear? The only dress shirt he owns is his SDN uniform and he definitely can't just conjur up a suit on the spot. Could he borrow one of Victor's? Would that even fit him, and would he really want to wear one of Victor's fur-ridden suits? "I've got some money, I could always go out and buy something before we leave."
"Honey, you need– you know what," the closet doors shut with a quiet thud and he watches as she walks over, closing his laptop for him. "We're going out and getting you some clothes."
His brow furrows and he throws his hands up in the air helplessly, "I was filling out a report–"
Mandy rolls her eyes, "Just send it to me, I'll do it for you."
Robert doesn't remember the last time he's gone out to buy clothes for himself — the shirts that hang in his closet had been from when he'd stopped growing and even though they might sport some holes and stains, he's never seen the need to buy new ones if the ones he has work perfectly fine.
But Mandy's got her hand wrapped around his wrist and she's tugging him along to shop after shop and she claps and cheers whenever he waddles out of the changing room dressed up in clothes maybe a little above his pay-grade. They're comfortable, sure, he'll give her that, and he might be able to see himself wearing them day to day, okay, but that doesn't mean he's enjoying this. He's not bathing in Mandy's attention and he doesn't like it when she walks up to him, pulling and adjusting the clothes on his body and he definitely doesn't like it when she smiles at him and tells him he's handsome and to take it all off so that she can go pay for it.
He doesn't.
Well, maybe he does. A little.
He protests at first, tells her that she doesn't need to be spending her own money on him but he knows it's a futile argument because he knows that branch managers' don't get paid nothing — not even considering the brand deals and the advertisements and all the other streams of income she has. Sometimes his somtach churns a little when he thinks about how much she earns.
"There you go," Mandy says as she finishes hanging up the last of his new clothes, "Much better, isn't it?"
Robert stands beside her, hands on his hips as he looks into his freshly stocked closet. None of the articles of clothing particularly displease him and it's kind of an inconvenience because he finds that he can't complain about it as much. Mandy hadn't pushed anything on him and while it had been clear she'd had her preferences, she'd never let that sway him in what he chose.
"You have too much money," is what he settles on, "You need to find another way to burn it."
Mandy turns her head up to look at him and cocks an eyebrow, "You're telling me you don't like it when I spoil you?"
—
It whirrs and it creaks and it makes spluttering noises that it definitely shouldn't but Robert had spent at most 15 bucks on it in a sale a few years back and so he supposes he's gotten what he's paid for. It kind of looks like sludge he thinks, which is concerning because he swears coffee should be at least a similar consistency to water. Maybe he just needs to clean the filter. Maybe he's overreacting.
It hisses as he janks the steamed up container from its perch and begins pouring equal parts into two mugs. It clanks as he shoves it back in. Grabbing the two cups of coffee (calling it coffee might be overexaggerating), he heads over to the sofa where Mandy is sitting cross-legged, laptop settled comfortably enough in her lap as her fingers skim over the keys. He sits down, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek before handing her one of the mugs. She mumbles a quiet 'thanks' but as she brings it up to her lips and takes a sip, it looks like she wants to take her word of gratitude back.
"Robert…"
Robert looks at her scrunched up face with a neutral expression plastered on his own as he takes a long, winding sip of his drink.
"Yes?"
Mandy sniffs at it. "Does it usually taste like this for you?"
Robert shrugs. "Does the job, doesn't it?"
"I'm not drinking enough of this to find out if it does the job or not." She leans over, setting the mug down on the floor before making herself comfortable in the fort of pillows she's built around herself. "What do you think about those espresso machines?"
He grimaces, shuffling up next to Mandy and peering down at her screen where she's now browsing different types of coffee makers. "The ones where you have to do all that bullshit yourself? I'd go to a coffee shop if I really wanted that fancy shit."
"Right…" She sighs, scratching at her cheek. "What about those, uh–" She types something in quickly and up come several links and photos of various fancy looking coffee machines. "Those pod ones? You know–"
"Look," his hand moves towards her laptop screen as he speaks, tilting it down, "My little rig satisfies me on a cold morning and late at night and–"
Truly, when has Mandy ever listened to him? It takes about a week for the cardboard box to be dumped outside his front door and Robert doesn't even know it's coming until the doorbell rings and an equally grumpy delivery person is shoving something in his face to sign. He looks down at the box, hands on his hips as he tries to recall what he could have possibly ordered. Or more realistically, what Mandy could have ordered.
He grunts as he picks it up and as he hauls it into his apartment, somewhere in the back of his mind he swears he should at least be in his 40s before the back problems really start to set in. He places it on the counter with a huff before he rummages around in his drawers for a sharp enough knife to cut through the tape with. Robert struggles a little with getting the object out of the box, because of course a superhero of at least 15 years struggles with cardboard boxes, and when he finally does, he simply stares at it. And then he pulls his phone out.
Me: Are you serious?
Mandy <3: I'm generally a very serious woman Robert
Mandy <3: You're gunna have to specify what Im being serious about here
Me: [ Photo ]
Mandy <3: Oh!!! LOL yh tell me if its any good
Me: How much was it??
Mandy <3: Nothing to concern yourself about really
Me: Let me pay you back at least
Mandy <3: Oh no absolutely not
Mandy <3: Maybe in another way mister ;)
Me: You naughty
It certainly looks fancier than his older coffee maker — it's clean and it's sleek and you can tell it was not made seven years ago like a certain other appliance in his kitchen. It makes a strange beeping noise as it starts up and Robert has to nose his face in the instructions to make sense of any of the words.
"Fill up the… yeah, okay," he mutters to himself. The instruction are clear enough and he manages to get the machine up and running in no time. He watches as the liquid slowly pours into his mug and the colour is already much nicer than anything his previous pile of junk had ever produced.
It smells… less bitter, more like coffee and less like tar and he picks up the pod he used to inspect it as he takes his first sip. His brows rise and he looks into the mug with a pleased smile.
Me: I hate it when you're right about stuff
—
Robert's been to Mandy's apartment plenty of times in the past; he goes round there at least twice a week and he's maybe confident enough to say he could navigate the place blindfolded. Cosy and homey is how he would describe it, how anyone would describe it really, with its lived-in furniture and the trinkets Mandy had collected from her years there.
It's everything Robert's apartment had not been at the start of their relationship.
That's changed now, though. There's a futon, a place to relax and sleep, and a circular table that had gone right in front of it, hosting a little fake plant, a book on Vanderstank's success and some coasters that are mostly used for covering stains rather than preventing them. A TV had been mounted up on the far wall at some point and his kitchen had been filled with different tools and appliances Mandy uses whenever she comes around and makes dinner. The little set of drawers next to his make-shift bed has Chad's lamp propped up on it and in one of the storage units lies an unused shitty dildo that Courtney had clearly stolen from a tenth grade sex-ed class. Robert had attempted to tell her off, to tell her how wildly unprofessional gifting him a sex toy is but when Mandy hadn't managed to stifle her laugh, his sentiment had fallen flat.
"What are we doing with the lamps?"
That's not longer the case, however. His apartment is empty once more and it's not some sort of symbolic representation on a newfound emptiness in his heart, as Janelle had suggested, but quite the opposite. A lot of the furniture had either been given to the Z-Team or donated and the little he owned that Mandy did not already have got packed away in cardboard boxes and hauled the 20 minute drive to her place.
"Uhh," Mandy looks down at the unpacked litter of lamps on the floor. Beef is scampering around, nails scratching against the hardwood floor before he stumbles to a stop. Mandy drops down to his level, hand scratching behind his ear as he sniffs away at the lights; she looks up at him with a smile. "I thought we were keeping them. They're cute, you know?"
"The lamps?" Robert has his hands on his hips and he looks down at Mandy with narrowed eyes. "The lamps are cute?"
"Oh, come on." Beef snuzzles into her hand. Traitor, Robert thinks to himself. "You know what I mean. What they mean — symbolising new–"
Robert waves his hand around flippantly and rolls his eyes, "New light in my life, alright, yeah, alright." He looks around the place and he feels kind of bad for how messy it's become with all this new stuff– with all of his stuff.
His 3-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-bodywash sits next to Mandy's coconut and vanilla scented bottles of unnecessity and he'd used the last of his toothpaste before moving so all that is added to the cup on the sink is a toothbrush that is way past its prime. An extra towel is hung up next to the already existing one and if he waddles into the kitchen from the bedroom he can see his fancy coffee machine next to the kettle Mandy uses for her tea every morning. Beef's bed and bowls are on the floor where neither of them will accidentally kick it but the little guy much prefers to be snuggled up between Mandy and Robert at night anyway.
Robert didn't think his life could ever be like this, didn't think he'd ever work hard enough to deserve any of the warmth and comfort he's currently wrapped in. While the thought still lingers in the back of his mind sometimes, gnaws away at him in his nightmares and makes him wake up with a cold sweat, Mandy does a pretty good job of squashing it down with a phenomenal success rate.
Mandy's warm against him; he can feel the rise and fall of her shoulders with every sleep-addled breath she takes and Robert knows he teases her for it but he does find her quiet snoring to be rather adorable. They're wrapped up in a blanket that had taken Mandy a few months to crochet, seated in the sofa that they now equally use with a Beef curled up in their laps and a shitty dating show playing out on the TV and Robert thinks about how he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.