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Robert didn't know when he developed his little habit, the strange vocal stims he couldn't help. It had started mild- with Robert repeating bird calls, someone's whistling, small words. Simple things that earned him a raised eyebrow, but were promptly ignored. Then he started repeating words more often, answering questions with repetition instead of proper answers, and it earned him even more confusion.
His dad didn't understand it, like with many things Robert did as a kid. Robbie would just tell him to cut it out, reiterate that Mecha Man doesn't do silly childish things like purr back at cats.
They went and got it tested after a good few years of Robert's strange new vocal urges, so technically Robbie did know what was wrong, he just didn't like it. According to him, it was something strange that would negatively impact Robert's future as a hero, and Robert took his words to heart, as any child would.
Even so, it took Robert until his teenage years to really tamp down on the urges, to recognize when his brain was about to repeat something he heard and just, bite down on it.
It was easy to control then, but after his dad died, it progressively got harder to repress.
He was off his meds for starters. Robert had been diagnosed with ADHD not long before his vocal stims began, and with echolalia being potentially linked to it, Robbie hadn't hesitated to get Robert started on medicating it. With Robbie gone though, Robert didn't really bother refilling his prescription.
Then there were the repeated injuries, with constant blows to the head being the most common for him. Brain damage certainly didn't help manage his “issue”, so Robert had quite a few slip ups over the years. His only saving grace was that they were all in the Mech while his mic was off, so nobody heard him.
And the brain damage only got worse, especially after blowing up. He'd woken from his coma, confused as all hell, and immediately started mimicking the sound of his heart monitor, the flutter of his room's curtains, the squeak of shoes on tile. It was more difficult than ever to stop himself, and the urges followed him all throughout his recovery, and then to work when he started at SDN.
-~-~-~-~-
It was only his first day, he couldn't slip up now. His team was full of assholes, and Robert just knew they'd move on from making fun of his name, to making fun of his echolalia once they discovered it. So he kept his brain carefully blank, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth to prevent any slip ups, and went about his day as normal.
Heading to the break room at Chase's request was supposed to be a break away from the team, but Invisigal had apparently taken it upon herself to follow him in, and the bat guy was grabbing his lunch of. . . Frozen rats? At least he was minding his business, unlike the invisible woman who decided to spook him. Almost immediately after, the bat guy- Sonar, let loose a screech that had Robert ruining yet another pack of twinkies.
Robert glanced at Sonar, his brain grabbing onto that strange new sound, then back at Visi to shoot her a quick glare. She was staring at him strangely, then shook her head and seemingly moved on from whatever that was.
“What kind of hero jumps?” She snarked, and they both kept up a tense conversation as they moved to the tables in the room.
Robert couldn't help but let a bit of his frustration show through his words, but then there was that sound again- another echolocation call, and his brain went fuzzy again for a few seconds.
The room went quiet, then Sonar added an extra call, one that sounded slightly more questioning, and that fuzziness buzzed again before Visi slammed her hands down on the table.
“Okay, seriously, cut it out man!” She snapped, their previous heated conversation all but forgotten.
Robert blinked, tilted his head, “What?”
“Don't “what” me, you're mocking him!” She said, gesturing emphatically over Robert's shoulder in the direction of the man-bat.
Robert frowned, not sure what she was talking about, until it hit him. The squeaking, the fuzziness traveling from his skull to his tongue- his echolalia.
“Ohhh, shit,” Robert brought a hand to his mouth at that realization, like that would prevent more noises, then twisted to offer Sonar an apologetic look, “Sorry, it's completely involuntarily. I don't mean to offend or anything.”
Sonar stood frozen in place, ears up and alert and head tilted to the side. He blinked, then shook his head hard enough for his ears to flop a little- cute.
“No no, all good. It's just, nobody ever. . .” He trailed off, looked over Robert's shoulder, then straightened his shoulders and turned around, “Ah, forget it. All good Bobert, go, uh. . . Eat your twinks, or something.”
Robert stared at him a second longer, then turned back to face Visi, who had a concerningly calculative look on her face.
“You're weird, the fuck even was that?” She asked, and Robert rolled his eyes.
“Echolalia, it's an ADHD thing, I think. Or a brain damage thing. Either works.” He shrugged his shoulders, flicking at the crushed twinkie packages wilted on the tabletop. They looked more like sad modern art pieces than food at this point- something like, broke man's sad attempts at calories in the form of mangled cheap cakes he didn't even consider edible anymore.
Visi scoffed, tipping back in her chair enough that she ran the risk of toppling over, “Wow, okay. And you made fun of me for having ADHD, low blow man. That's like, very un-woke behavior.”
“I wasn't targeting you, I was poking fun at the ADHD thing because I have it too. It's like, I'm gay so I can. . .” Robert huffed, cutting himself off there, “No, nevermind. Back to work, both of you.” He continued instead, glancing from Invisigal to Sonar, then back again.
She looked briefly disappointed for whatever reason, then her face did a complete 180 into something more sly.
“Okay, fine, dad,” She teased, then blipped out of existence before Robert could protest.
“Okay, fine. . .” Robert sighed and patted the table as he stood up, “Right, you want those?” Robert asked the man-bat, nodding at the smushed twinkies for emphasis.
“Oh hell yeah, free twinks! My favorite form of free,” Sonar cheered, letting out a distinctly happy sounding chirp.
This time Robert was painfully aware of his own returning chirp, and felt his face burn with embarrassment as he marched out of the room.
“Fuck, cut it out,” He hissed to himself.
-~-~-~-~-
Throughout the weeks of working as a dispatcher, Robert noticed way more echolalia slips than he'd like. Thankfully, it was mainly off-comms so the team wouldn't rip him a new one over it, but each time he noticed it, it was always him repeating some sort of noise back at Sonar. And over time, it seemed like Sonar began to make more bat sounds at him on purpose.
Little chirped greetings in the halls, squawks and trills on private lines, more drawn out squeaks like he was whining, all kinds of noises like he was testing the extent of Robert's vocabulary, in the form of bat-speak.
It should've been annoying, the extent he was going to draw out Robert’s echolalia, but Robert thought it was more endearing than anything.
It certainly helped that Sonar was pretty damn attractive. Most people would probably take one look at the hybrid features and write them off, but Robert kind of liked them. It was hard for him to explain why, but Sonar's blank eyes constantly drew him in, and his snout looked so damn soft. And the fangs. . . He best not open that particular can of worms.
So the effort Sonar was putting into getting Robert to chirp back at him, paired with Robert's growing attraction to the hybrid, may have culminated into a little crush.
Correction, it was a fucking massive crush, Robert felt like a prepubescent teenager obsessing over him, it was that bad. Nobody had ever accepted Robert's echolalia the way Sonar had, much less actively enjoyed being mimicked.
It led to a few too many casual hangouts, where Robert fully let his guard down and didn't bother to cut off the instinctual repetition. They'd sit together in the break room, gravitate towards one another during nights out with the team. Once or twice Robert even woke up in the hybrid's bed after having a few too many drinks- they hadn't done anything of course, Sonar was just a major softie and a gentleman who wouldn't let Robert sleep on the couch, and would bunk with Malevola while Robert took his bed.
It was so fucking sweet, but they were firmly stuck as friends and Robert felt like he was losing his mind a little.
-~-~-~-~-
Sonar was, to put it mildly, pretty fucking obsessed with their new dispatcher. It hadn't been on his cards at all, but the second Robert started repeating any noises he made? It was game over, Sonar stumbled head over heels for the most boring guy on the planet, who just happened to talk back to him in his own language- unintentional as it was.
And of course, Mal fully supported it- threatened him for it, actually. Something something, “if you don't take him, he's all mine”. Something like that.
So, he'd been unabashedly chirping more complicated calls at Robert, and part of him delighted in the fact that the ex hero returned each and every one, even if he didn't know the context behind them.
“You don't even know what you're saying, you could be seriously trash talking me right now, Rob-Bob,” He said after Robert repeated yet another complex call- though it was more of a courting song, which. . . fuck, how long had he been doing that? They'd been bar hopping with the team last night, and the second Robert tipped just barely past the tipsy stage, Victor came up with a million and one excuses to bring him home, (“It's windy out! You'll blow right away, I gotta make sure you're safe!”). It was the fourth time he insisted on it since Robert became their dispatcher, and as per usual he gave the man his bed, his territory. He rarely ever let even Mal in his territory, and yet Robert was his biggest exception.
What wasn't usual though, was the fact that after waking up, Robert didn't immediately leave like a startled stray cat. This time, he stayed and accepted Victor's offer of coffee and breakfast.
It inevitably led to them lounging on the couch, a random show playing for background noise, and Victor chirring contentedly. He didn't often indulge in his more animalistic nature, apart from echolocation for the job, but Robert brought out the happy beast in him every time he fumbled out a responding chirp.
Robert stared at him through half lidded eyes, still a little too sleepy to fully process anything, then his eyes creased in teasing amusement and he repeated the long, whistly trill he'd been copying on and off, entirely of his own volition.
It had Victor's heart fluttering, hearing his calls tumbling from Robert's lips. It had his instincts singing and gloating over his potential mate.
Victor cleared his throat, deciding to fall back on humor rather than address his damned instincts, “Oof, you wound me Rob! So rude, to speak to me in such a way after I so graciously gave up my bed for you,” He tutted, shaking his head in mock upset.
Robert laughed, a short huff of breath, and nudged Victor with his shoulder.
“Lies, I know it wasn't anything bad, it'd sound different then,” He said, immediately piquing Victor's interest.
“Oh yeah? How so?” He hummed.
“You sound sharper when you're angry or upset, like. . . I don't know, more aggressive, growly, enough to make a squeak sound like the most foul insult ever,” Robert explained. Victor almost wondered if he'd been throwing together context clues for translations, which was way more effort than anyone's ever put into him.
“Uh-huh, okay then mister big brain. Kudos for figuring that out, what d’you think I was saying just now then?” Victor asked, suddenly nervous.
“Dunno,” Robert shrugged his shoulders, then paused, “But it did sound. . . Affectionate,” He added, shooting Victor a look he couldn't quite decipher, even after his psychology courses in Harvard.
Victor had three options here. He could laugh it off and move on, or lie about the real meaning behind the fluttery calls, or. . . Or he could be truthful. Honestly, the second option was really appealing to him. He could gaslight his way outta this no problem.
“It is,” He blurted instead, mouth moving faster than his brain as usual, “Fuck.”
Robert laughed again, but it wasn't mean. It sounded more like, disbelief or something. He leaned a little closer, crossing his legs on the cushion beneath him and laying his arms on his knees.
“That so? Mind giving me a direct translation then?” Robert questioned, an almost mirthful look on his freckled face.
Victor, like the super emotionally stable guy he is, leaned back against the backrest, eyes fixed steadfastly off to the side and leg jittering in nervous energy. He mumbled noncommittally, not even sure what he was attempting to say, just that this plain guy has him all kinds of hot and bothered.
Robert, the absolute bastard, repeated that sound again, that call for a mate that he'd gotten far too good at imitating. It was all on purpose rather than an unintentional stim, and Victor loved it, loved the attention.
“It's a. . .” Victor began, flustering for words. It felt like his tongue was weighed down, and Robert wasn't helping when he leaned further into his space, humming for him to continue, “A courting song, for finding a mate,” He finally admitted, watching the way Robert's eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners, betraying the man's joy before he even smiled. His lips parted, and Victor tracked the movement.
“And you've been doing it for what, a week? Two? You must be really serious about it,” He whispered his words too quietly for most to pick up, but Victor's sensitive ears heard it as loud as a siren call.
Victor breathed out a slow breath, stuttering it slightly in excitement, and tipped his head down a little.
“Maybe I am, what'cha gonna do about it, Robert?” He crooned his name, his real name instead of one of the multitude of nicknames, and Robert's eyes dilated.
“Well, for one. I think I'm going to kiss you,” He began, voice breathy.
“You think?” Sonar smirked a little as Robert rolled his eyes.
“I know I'm going to kiss you,” He amended. Victor couldn't help but shiver at the slight growl his voice took on, “Then, you're going to sing for me.”
“Only if you sing back,” Victor shot back. Their faces were barely an inch apart, the tip of Robert's nose almost brushing the front of his muzzle. His breath puffed lazily against Victor's mouth, and his hindbrain went fuzzy with anticipation for what was about to happen.
“In what world would I not?” Robert mused. Victor squeaked, Robert returned it with his own sound, and they closed the distance.
It was messy- understandable really, Robert had no experience with matching Victor's freak (yet). Victor angled his head to slot his fangs on either side of Robert's mouth so he couldn't hurt him, mouth opening to make things a little easier. Robert breathed into the kiss, his own mouth dropping open and giving Victor full access to swipe his tongue inside.
Robert buried his hands in the fur on the back of Victor's head, pressing him impossibly close. His fingers brushed the bottoms of Victor's twitching ears, causing him to shiver again. Emboldened, Robert swept his hand further up, tracing the shell of Victor's over-large ears and pulling a breathy sound from him.
The kiss devolved into clashing tongues and sloppy presses, but it was everything.
When they finally pulled apart to breathe, Robert pressed a little peck to the tip of his muzzle, and Victor bumped their foreheads together affectionately.
“You're mine,” He murmured, a purr on the tip of his tongue.
Robert moved his hands down, to cup the thick fur on Victor's cheeks.
“You're mine,” He echoed, with enough differentiation to make it his own sentence. Victor squeaked again, surprised and pleased in equal measure. He was more than happy with the claim, even if it was just words being repeated back at him.
“That's so fucking hot,” He breathed out, and Robert chuckled in amusement, diving back in for another kiss that Victor was more than happy to provide.
-~-~-~-~-
It didn't take long for the rest of the team to figure out they were together after that. They hadn't exactly been subtle about it, so of course, everyone clocked them not even a few days into properly dating.
And nobody was surprised either. Apparently there was a bet going on for when they'd get together, who’d’ve thunk?
The only downside to it all was the paperwork, but Victor was a fucking boss at signing papers. Then there was also the whole “no PDA in the office” rule, but really, who was going to stop them? Fucking god? Robert's friends with Blazer, and she's too much of a softie to really stop them.
Really, the only thing even remotely preventing them from making out constantly was the old man's death glares, although even then it wasn't enough to fully stop Sonar.
He's a very important man with very important needs after all, and Robert seems more than happy to suck face when Chase isn't watching.
And it just so happened, Chase didn't use the break room everyone else did, which meant slightly more privacy to do whatever they wanted, at the cost of the rest of the team watching and making fun of them, but eh. You win some, you lose some, and Sonar much preferred his jeering friends over an overprotective grouchy old man.
The second the chime for lunch break came in, Sonar strided straight from the team's resting area to the break room, bound and determined to spend as much of the break as possible with a certain someone.
The second he was through the door, he called out a greeting cheep, and earned a responding whistle back from Robert. It wasn't an exact echo, but Robert struggled to hit the higher pitched sounds perfectly, so it was close enough.
Sonar crossed the room and promptly draped himself over his boyfriend, who grunted out an uff but didn't stop him. Instead, he reached a hand up to play with his ears, while snacking on a twinkie. Sonar went to grab the last one in the pack, but Robert smacked his hand away.
“No, get your own,” He mock scolded, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice.
“Owww,” Sonar complained blandly, “That hurt, abuse. I want a divorce.” Despite his words, Sonar shoved his face into Robert's neck, breathing in the lingering smells of his godawful body wash, wet dog, coffee, and sheet metal. It all coalesced into a scent that was distinctly Robert, and it was downright addicting. Addicting enough, that he'd been clean ever since they started dating- no relapses at all!
“Hmm, okay then. But to do that, you're gonna have to let go first,” Robert pointed out, his smirk basically audible. Sonar tightened his hold on him in response, huffing against his neck, “Yeah, didn't think so. You're stuck with me, big guy.” Robert patted his cheek.
Sonar sniffed again, and noticed that the smell of twinkies was a lot closer. He untucked his face to find Robert offering the last one anyway, and gladly ate it out of his hand. A soft purr filtered out as he did, one that Robert mimicked easily.
“Urgh, you two are disgusting, get a room,” Flambae complained loudly when he came stalking in, although his annoyance was ruined by the amused smirk he wore.
“We are in a room, if you haven't noticed. A room that was private up until you walked in,” Robert told him, his voice set to his usual deadpan that meant he was enjoying the banter.
“A different room then! Jesus fuck, you're dense,” Flambae rolled his eyes, then turned around to rummage through the fridge.
“You're just jealous you don't have a cute boyfriend to make out with in the locker rooms,” Sonar joked, settling his chin on Robert's shoulder.
“No!” Flambae shouted instantly, “That's not- fuck off! I can get a boyfriend whenever I damn well please, bitch.”
“Not what I said,” Sonar muttered. It pulled an amused snort from Robert, who quickly distracted himself with a sip of his coffee when Flambae turned to stare at them suspiciously.
“Whatever. Later losers, don't rip each other's faces off. Or do, I don't care.” Flambae waved a hand flippantly over his shoulder and walked out of the room, Tupperware in hand.
“You're such a little shit,” Robert chuckled, scratching under Sonar's chin in a way he couldn't help but lean into.
“Mm, thought you knew this by now.”
-~-~-~-~-
Fridays were the team's designated bar nights- straight from work to whatever place they picked out that day, then Saturday was spent regretting everything, then Sunday was for being functional on their day off. It was like a weekly ritual at this point.
And Sonar hadn't been invited to the past few bar nights for. . . Reasons.
It wasn't his fault he was so protective of Robert! It was everyone else's fault, for trying to flirt with his new mate.
This time though, when Robert was invited he refused to go unless Sonar was present, so bar nights were back on!
It didn't mean he was any less protective though.
“Calm down mate, everyone knows he's yours,” Malevola spoke up over his angry buzzing. Robert had headed to the bar for another round of drinks for the table, and was promptly roped into a random conversation with some guy.
“I know,” Sonar huffed, but didn't relent.
“He'll be back.”
“I know,” He repeated, forcing himself to turn away from his boyfriend. Mal raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything else.
Part of him was tempted to march on over and pull Robert away from that fucker talking his ear off, to screech in the dude's face to back off, but he forced himself to sit still like Robert told him to. Last time he snapped at a guy, Robert hadn't been very impressed.
And he did come back, bearing a tray of drinks and a look of mild annoyance, which melted away when he sat down and Sonar wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Instincts now appeased, Sonar's upset noise died down, replaced with an affectionate chirr that was barely heard over the din of the bar. Robert smiled, echoing the sound.
“Heyy kitten,” Sonar greeted, grinning.
“Don't call me that,” Robert said without missing a beat. Sonar heaved out an overdramatic sigh, pouting. He'd turned down basically every pet name Sonar suggested so far, except babe, and where's the fun in that? Babe is the tamest one ever.
He moved on from the failed nickname by taking a drink, and then another, and another. Friday was for letting loose after all, and since Sonar couldn't get his drugs, he made due with other things so the withdrawals wouldn't kick his ass.
In seemingly no time at all, both Sonar and Robert were drunk off their asses and leaning into one another. Sonar was still cognizant enough to hold a conversation with the others, but Robert was just staring up at him with droopy, big doe eyes that Sonar was pointedly not looking at lest he pop a boner in front of everyone.
Sonar said something to Mal, ending his sentence with a little squeak, and Robert repeated the sound immediately, pressing further into Sonar's side. Sonar looked down, and. . .
Fuuuuck.
Robert was staring at him with the biggest puppy eyes ever, begging for something Sonar didn't even know. Sonar chirped, questioning, and Robert copied it sloppily.
“What's goin’ on in that head of yours?” He hummed, bumping his nose against Robert's forehead. Robert blinked out of sync, mumbling something incomprehensible. “Oh, you're so far gone. You okay?” He cooed.
“You okay?” Robert echoed, then blinked hard and shook his head, “Shit, sorry.”
“Nope, none of that. We share our words now, ‘member?” Sonar laughed softly. Robert's mouth dropped in a little “o” shape, so drunk it looked like he just had an epiphany.
“Oh yeahhh,” He breathed out, then promptly pushed himself up, messily slotting their lips together. Sonar was glad to kiss him, but had to majorly adjust the angle before he gave Robert drunken lip piercings.
Robert fumbled forward a little, dragging himself halfway onto Sonar's lap before breaking the kiss. His eyes were half lidded, that pleading look back in full effect, but Sonar still didn't know what for.
“Shit, I think you guys better head home,” Malevola interrupted, drawing a confused sound from Sonar, then Robert.
“Wha?”
Mal opened her mouth to continue, but Prism beat her to it.
“Boy, if you don't take that twunk home right now, I swear to god. He's ‘boutta jump your loins.”
More panicked now, Sonar swung his head around to look back at Robert, finally realizing that those were bedroom eyes.
“Oh. . .” He said eloquently, then hurriedly gathered Robert into his arms and stood up, “Oh shit, yeah! Uhhh, see you guys Monday!” He called out, already halfway across the building.
Their abrupt departure was met with the team's shrieking laughter over Sonar's near miss, the assholes.
Sonar shook his head, ignoring that for now. He has a boyfriend to take care of, a very needy boyfriend who really was seconds away from outright jumping him.