This one time, on twitter, we got into a conversation about the Trojan… and then this happened.
The humming laptop harmonized with the buzzing neon lights. Their song as soothing to Matty as techno at this point. And he needed some soothing.
Being kidnapped, again, does not help the paranoia.
The hum of his computer tower purred a few notes higher than the water heater, and their melodies changed the song. It grew closer to the tune he knew and needed this morning.
This was normally his favorite time of day. Pre-dawn meant quiet, and some time to think when those at home still slept.
But he’d been too afraid to come out recently. The quiet had been ominous instead of soothing since he’d been rescued. This morning, the cold, dry air of his basement room seemed warmer and friendly, and while his hands still shook, he wasn’t jumping at the stillness and looking over his shoulder.
Matty stretched out on the orange and black patterned couch. The cushions barely gave underneath him, but the low, low cost of free had outweighed comfort when furnishing the house in the beginning.
Maybe I should mention these couches to Sam. Or maybe I should just set them on fire…
He had barely scanned the night’s news for something that looked like a monster, when the Trojan thumped down the stairs, laundry basket in hand. “I thought you slept late.”
Matty sighed at the loss of his quiet. “No, I take a midmorning nap.” Going to sleep after breakfast was a habit he’d never quite shaken. Dating a private detective only encouraged it.
Two hours and then… Dean.
Maybe he felt good enough to go out for breakfast with Dean.
The bang of the washer door accompanied the Trojan’s intruding voice. “See anything worth hunting?”
“Not yet.” Familiar annoyance fluttered through Matty. Once again, the Trojan was ruining something. Old habits died hard it seemed, whatever understanding they’d achieved while captured.
Matty grinned at his computer. “So, how does my sister handle the name thing?”
Dark curls proceeded the Trojan’s pale face as he peeked around the corner. “Come again?”
The snicker was unavoidable. “Was that intended to be sexual? Because I will play the “ew, gross, my sister” card.”
The Trojan scratched at the full beard that obscured his face. “Well, you were about to make a condom joke. And c’mon, really? Isn’t that beneath you?”
Matty studied the man for a moment, knowing full well that he had utter disbelief etched broad. “You really trying to sell me that nobody has ever made a condom joke at a dude called the Trojan?”
A smile winked through the beard. “The night they gave me the name, I told everybody to get it all out of their system. I was at a haunt… in New York City. The place was overflowing with people, drunk as hell, and rowdy after a rough night on the job. I heard literally ever pun and joke regarding myself and condoms. You can’t make any original joke at my expense. But go ahead and try.” He leaned against the wall, boredom soft in his eyes.
Matty licked at his dry upper lip before he shook his head. “I take back everything I said in that cell. I fucking hate you after all.”
The Trojan laughed. “I thought every hunter knew that story.”
Matty rolled his eyes. “I don’t run in those, or really any, social circles, remember?”
The hunter stretched his arms over his head. “True, but I thought you were this master investigator… who formerly hated me for dating his sister. How do you not know everything about me?”
“I do hate you.” Matty sat up and set his laptop on the coffee table. “I didn’t care about your stupid name, I wanted to know about your friends, the ones with the tattoos and who walk through walls. Those guys are way more interesting than your name.”
The Trojan froze, all the playfulness gone from him. Muscles strained as he pinned Matty to the couch with hard eyes. “I thought you understood to stop talking about them.”
Matty held up his hands. “Whoa there. It’s just you and me here, and I’m not asking questions. I get it. You can—”
“Cut the shit.” The Trojan’s lips curled up into the barest of smiles. “Mentioning them casually in conversations to get me used to talking about them… not going to work. Stop it. And don’t insult me by pretending you were doing no such thing.”
Matty took a moment, considering his next response. “How did Mina see this side of you so easily?”
A single eyebrow rose at him in question.
“The dark, dangerous, and serious side?”
The Trojan’s smile grew, showing genuine amusement as well as teeth. “You’re a little turned on, aren’t you?”
Matty groaned and picked up his laptop. “I really do hate you.”
“It’s okay, Matty.” The Trojan headed to the stairs. “I won’t tell Mina.”
Blood warmed Matty’s face as he stared at the screen. “This is what I get for leaving my room.”
Laughter floated down the creaking stairs. “Good to see you out, actually.”
Matty smiled at his computer. “I’ll switch over your laundry. Just leave me alone for a while.”
The door at the top of the stairs stopped sweeping the floor and opened again. “You want some time to yourself, huh? To think about me?”
“I hate you so much.”