Matt quickly swiped his palms on his jeans before opening the door.
"Daisy Duke?" John asked.
"Right. Because last time I said that whole-
"Yeah."
"Yeah. That's... funny. Come in!" He stepped back hastily to let John enter, shut the door as John looked around appraisingly. It was a bit of an upgrade from the last place; this one at least didn't have mice that regularly nibbled at the wires, and the fire alarm had only been erroneously pulled three times so far this month.
"Nice place."
Matt makes a face. Better than a trash heap is still a dump. But John's being nice, so he should be nice, which means he should wipe that weird look off his face and-
"Coffee!" he blurts out. "Or tea. I have milk. For the... I got it this morning so it's fresh. Or hot chocolate! Because yeah, Farrell, let's have hot chocolate when it's 87 degrees outside. That makes so much-"
"Matt?"
Matt focuses, visions of John passing out from heat exhaustion after being force-fed copious amounts of Granny's Best still dancing through his head.
"Ya wanna calm the fuck down?"
"Sure. Yeah. Absolutely," Matt says. It's just a date, he reminds himself. Just a date. He can do this.
Then John takes off his leather jacket and Matt gets a good look at the white T stretched over barrel chest, and he knows that all bets are off.
Live Free or Die Hard, John/Matt
"Daisy Duke?" John asked.
"Right. Because last time I said that whole-
"Yeah."
"Yeah. That's... funny. Come in!" He stepped back hastily to let John enter, shut the door as John looked around appraisingly. It was a bit of an upgrade from the last place; this one at least didn't have mice that regularly nibbled at the wires, and the fire alarm had only been erroneously pulled three times so far this month.
"Nice place."
Matt makes a face. Better than a trash heap is still a dump. But John's being nice, so he should be nice, which means he should wipe that weird look off his face and-
"Coffee!" he blurts out. "Or tea. I have milk. For the... I got it this morning so it's fresh. Or hot chocolate! Because yeah, Farrell, let's have hot chocolate when it's 87 degrees outside. That makes so much-"
"Matt?"
Matt focuses, visions of John passing out from heat exhaustion after being force-fed copious amounts of Granny's Best still dancing through his head.
"Ya wanna calm the fuck down?"
"Sure. Yeah. Absolutely," Matt says. It's just a date, he reminds himself. Just a date. He can do this.
Then John takes off his leather jacket and Matt gets a good look at the white T stretched over barrel chest, and he knows that all bets are off.