Who Knew John McClane Was a Romantic?
They all stared at the water cooler.
“It’s not orange.” Warlock
glared at the plastic container and tapped it. “Nana-chan is gonna be
pissed.”
When they first started adding juice crystal to the
water cooler, no one could agree on a colour. After Nana-chan hacked
into their systems and made everything various shades of orange, they
finally agreed to settle with her favoured Tang.
Warlock strummed
the top of the 5-gallon container as if it was a drum. “Maybe clear is a
new flavour?”
“Yes, it’s a brand new flavour called WA-ter,”
Mrs. Kaludis said from behind them.
Warlock whirled around and
bumped into the water cooler. “Ma!”
“Don’t start with me, young
man.” Mrs. Kaludis shook her finger at Warlock in warning.
“What
did you do to the Tang?”
“I didn’t add it.” Mrs. Kaludis crossed
her arms over her ample chest. “You’ve had enough sugar.” When Matt
dared to snort, she glared at him. “You’ve ALL had too much sugar,
Matthew. There’s a new rule.”
“There’s always new rule,” Warlock
grumbled. “But, Nana-chan…”
“We’ve come to an understanding. The
rules are all written down on the shared drive if you need to refresh
your memory. The newest rule is that for every cup of caffeine or sugar
based drink, you have to drink one cup of water. No arguments.”
“But…”
Both young men protested at the same time. They stopped when she raise
her finger in warning.
Matt’s quick mind was already thinking of
ways to bend the rules. She had said a “cup” with out specifying
measurements. Theoretically, he could have a giant Big Gulp of coffee
and a measuring cup full of water.
Mrs. Kaludis leaned over and
ruffled Matt’s hair. “Equal parts water to equal parts caffeine or sugar
based drink, Matthew. And, if it’s one of those energy drinks, you’ve
got to drink double the amount of water because it’s got both.”
As
Matt gaped, trying to figure out how she always knew what he was
thinking, he saw John watching him from the doorway. John was smiling
and the wrinkles around his eyes softened.
Mrs. Kaludis tutted.
“That rule applies to you too, Boss.”
Warlock had the good sense
to skulk away to his work station.
“I don’t see why since you’ve
never had to peel me off the ceiling,” John grumbled. “I don’t…”
Mrs.
Kaludis turned her steady gaze onto him. “I know exactly how much
coffee you have. Don’t forget about your physical this afternoon. It’s
at three o’clock, so I expect you to be out of here by no later than two
thirty.”
John rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “Yeah,
about that…”
“I know you called and cancelled,” Mrs. Kaludis
informed him with a huff. “I called right back and rebooked it for you. I
also talked to the sweetest thing at the front desk, Diane. She knows
not to listen to you anymore.”
“I don’t see why I have to go
anyways. I just went…”
The truth was Matt was the one who asked
her to help get John to the doctor. He didn’t want to appear to be the
bad guy and he really did worry about John’s health. His worst nightmare
was losing John and it was a reality that one day John’s cowboy past
would catch up with him.
Matt decided to assist Mrs. Kaludis.
“Four months ago.”
Thinking his lover was helping his argument,
he smirked. “Thanks, kid. See four months ago!”
“Which makes it
one month over due.” Mrs. Kaludis nodded and met John’s glare with one
of her own. “I’ve looked over your employment contract. I noticed the
caveat Mr. Bowman put in that included a medical and mental review every
three months. You haven’t been holding up to your end of the agreement.
I thought you were a man of your word.”
Matt took notice of how
Mrs. Kaludis masterfully manipulated John. Challenging his honour did
the trick.
When Bowman hired both John and Matt, he had to jump
through a bunch of red tape and bureaucratic hoops since they were
considered high risk. John had agreed readily to the terms for Matt, but
went so far as to include his own caveat that Matt got to pick his own
doctors and that they both got top notch coverage. Bowmen had held
strong that each of them had to be evaluated by a mental health
specialist every three months. He called it his insurance and had looked
directly at John when he said that.
John grumbled and glared.
“I’m fine.”
Mrs. Kaludis would have none of that. “If you’re
fine, then you should be in and out.”
“I’m not going.” John
shifted gears into pure pigheadedness. Matt could hear the unspoken ‘and
you can’t make me, so there’.
“Do it for Matty.” Mrs. Kaludis
reached out and grabbed Matt’s chin, squeezing his cheeks together like a
chipmunk. “Look at this face. Do you want to make him a widower before
his time?”
“Widower?” John sputtered. “We’re not married!”
“Don’t
I know it.” Mrs. Kaludis gave John a pointed look.
When John
gave Matt the ‘what-the-fuck’ stinkface, he received the
‘I-understand-women-less-than-I-understa
“But, that’s another discussion,” Mrs. Kaludis continued. “We’re talking about how you’re going to go to the doctor this afternoon. Give him peace of mind. You’re not getting any younger and with your history of injuries, you’re better to be safer than sorry. Poor thing would never be the same if you dropped dead of a heart attack. Besides, you have to set a good example. You wouldn’t want him trying to schluff off his appointment with his knee specialist, now would you?”
John scrunched his brow and glanced between Mrs. Kaludis and the captive Matt. Matt sent silent pleas to John to help him, trying his best for the woobie eyes Nana-chan was always going on about.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
Mrs. Kaludis made a pleased sound and released Matt only to launch herself onto John. Before he could flee she managed to place both of her palms onto his cheeks and pull him down just enough to kiss his forehead. “Good! No one here wants to see you dead before your time.”
Matt winced and mentally applauded that last bit of masterful guilt she threw in. Anyone else except Mrs. Kaludis would have ended up in a pile driver for molesting him like that. He spluttered and groaned, but let her. John even went so far as to make a show of wiping off Mrs. Kaludis’ lipstick off his forehead. But, underneath all of the gruffness, Matt could see John’s fondness for her shining through as she went off to handle her moping son.
John moved in close to Matt’s personal space. Even though he wasn’t one for public displays of affection, he wound an arm around Matt’s waist, supporting his weight. “How long have you been standing?”
Matt was too distracted by his touch to formulate a descent answer. “Um?”
“That means too long.”
Matt really did think about protesting as John walked him to the privacy of the geek lounge. John was protective, but he never hovered. Matt’s knee had gotten better, but it was never going to be perfectly healthy again. At his young age, it had taken some getting used to that he would always walk with a limp and needed a cane for the rest of his life. When someone called him disabled for the first time, it had hit Matt hard. The mental scars were one thing, but this was a constant reminder that he would always be different. At first he was taking the transition and adjustment hard. People did look at him differently. They saw the cane and limp, some looking at him with pity.
Matt had worried about John finding him attractive even though they’d only been together since his knee was blown out. Despite his age, John was still able bodied. In the middle of the night, Matt had finally let it all spill over. He still vividly remembered that night…
<><><><><><>
Matt wasn’t sure how long he had been lying on his back staring at the water stain on the ceiling. He finally got up the nerve and blurted out, “Does being hooked up with a gimp bother you?”
His answer was silence and Matt hoped that John had slept through his dumb outburst. Matt groaned and thumped his head on the pillow when John responded, “Why you asking about that nonsense, Farrell?”
“Because, it doesn’t bother you that I’m…”
“Shut up,” John grumbled as if it was an endearment. “You’re not a gimp. You’re still you,” John huffed and pulled Matt close so the younger man’s back was to his chest. “I don’t see that shit. You’d still be you if you were in a wheelchair, grew a third eyeball, or became a ballet dancer. You’re not so bad, kid.”
In McClane speak, that was a declaration of undying love. But, John didn’t stop there. With his lips pressed against Matt’s neck, he whispered, “You’re a hero ‘n’ the smartest person I’ve ever known. You’re…” He struggled to find the words and that’s how Matt knew it was genuine. Matt held his breath and waited. “You’re easy on the eyes.” John was caressing up and down Matt’s chest now, making Matt feel wanted and he shivered. John knew about all of Matt’s insecurities and abandonment issues. No one he had ever cared about had stuck around. “You gotta know by now that you’re it for me, if you’ll have me.”
“John, I’m not…”
“Shut up, kid.”
John didn’t have to say it out loud to know the crap that was running through Matt’s head. He knew it because similar shit ran through his own head. The voice in the back of his mind told him he was a washed up hack that only deserved to be alone. No one stuck around him either. He’d driven away his ex-wife and kids. But, that voice had been drowned out by an energetic, floppy haired kid who’d brought out urges John had tried to deny for decades. Matt had his own demons telling him he was no good, unwanted, and broken.
“You’re brave and dumb enough to put up with an old man like me,” John whispered and he rolled Matt over, kissing him. There was just enough light for John to see Matt’s eyes and John made sure the kid was trapped in the cage of his arms, pinned under him. John didn’t quite understand it, but his possessive crap made Matt feel wanted. “If I ever think of your scars, it reminds me that you saved all those lives, including my daughter.” John leaned down and kissed over Matt’s heart. “That’s what I see.”
“I’m not…”
John shut him up with another possessive, hard kiss. “I’ve got my own questions. I wonder what a wonder kid like you, who’s got his whole life ahead of him, is doing with an ugly-mugged, ol’ asshole like me?”
“I’m with you because you’re my everything,” Matt confessed, his nerves setting him off into a verbal ramble. “People only see what a hero you are when you save the world, but I see that every day, or hell, even when you’re brushing your teeth. You look at me like I’m worth something. I need that. I need you.”
“I need you, too,” John admitted. It was easier to confess that in the safety of the dark.
“I don’t know what to do…”
“Neither do I.”
“But, you’re John-fucking-McClane. You always know what to do.”
“We’ll figure it out together,” John chuckled and kissed Matt breathless.
Matt had faith in him. Not just as a cop, but, as a man. Before the kid, finding a reason to get up before work was becoming tougher and tougher. Matt gave him hope. John actually thought he could make it to retirement in one piece, and more importantly, have someone to live for. Matt was John’s future.
“Christ, the things you do to me,” John growled. “You make me actually give a fuck and want to keep fighting. You drive me crazy and I want to do nasty things to you…”
“You can,” Matt groaned and pressed his body up against John. “You can do anything to me. I’d let you do anything…”
The words went straight to John’s cock. He wasn’t sure how he kept Matt pinned to the bed and got rid of both of their underwear, but he did. Bodies slick with sweat, Matt spread his legs and John settled between them. Their cocks slid together and Matt demanded more.
John whispered filthy, dirty things to Matt as he rocked against him. “I want to fuck you so hard you’ll remember you’ll always belong to me…”
Matt thrashed and moaned, “Yeah, c’mon.”
“You beg so pretty.” John grabbed for the lube he knew Matt kept under his pillow. Dangling the tube over Matt’s face, he leered. “Such a cockslut.”
“I’ll be whatever you want.”
“You’re exactly what I want,” John snapped and slicked up two fingers. Pushing them exactly where he and Matt wanted, he growled, “Don’t forget it. You’re mine ‘n’ you’re fuckin’ perfect.”
Matt nearly came from the possessive, dirty claims. All Matt could do was lay back and take it. That’s all he wanted. To be wanted and this was all encompassing.
John was fucking Matt with three fingers now and he demanded, “Tell me. I wanna hear it.”
“I’m yours.”
“That’s fuckin’ right.” John pulled out of his fingers and slicked up his cock. “Nothin’ else matters. You’re mine ‘n’ I belong to you, too. I think I’ve gotta fuck that into your brain.”
Matt could only groan his agreement. He thrust his hips up as John pushed in deep and fast. Their mingled moans echoed in the room. Momentarily, John realized the window was open and anyone could hear them.
He leered with glee and grabbed Matt’s hips, thrusting in hard. “You scream so pretty for me, Matty. Anyone could hear how much you want my cock. You’re beggin’ for it.”
“I want you…”
“Ya got me. No one else.” It wasn’t a threat John was hissing through clenched teeth, but a promise.
When they came, they were clinging to one another. John collapsed onto Matt, pulling him close and wrapping him in his arms. Security… intimacy… Matt didn’t think he could want for anything more. Then, John whispered, “I love ya.”
That morning when they were leaving for work, their neighbour stopped them, who John still insisted on calling The-Old-Bat-Across-The-Hall. She gave them a thumbs up and tittered, “Way to go, boys! It’s pretty impressive I heard it considering that I’m half-deaf. Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!”
<><><><><><>
Matt blinked, coming back to the moment and smiled from one of his favourite memories. When John looked at him, what Matt saw as flaws were part of why John loved him. John didn’t love him in spite of being a screwed up hacker with a limp… he simply loved him and that was part of the package. No one would think to look at John that he was in any way the poster boy for teaching people acceptance, but that’s exactly what he did in his no bullshit and belligerent way.
John settled Matt down on the couch and sat down beside him. Without asking, he started to massage Matt’s thigh, right above the knee. His fingers carefully worked the tired muscles and were extra careful around the scar tissue. John would never admit it, but Matt knew he had talked to Matt’s physical therapist. John had respected Matt’s privacy to leave him alone in the treatment room and tried to make it look like he was being a jerk only concerned about the time when he barged into the room. But, both Matt and the therapist had noticed how John had snuck careful looks at the way the man was touching Matt. They weren’t out of jealousy, but John had genuinely wanted to learn how to help Matt and relieve his pain when needed.
“Nana-chan got another black belt,” Matt decided to make random conversation. His head lolled back on the couch.
“I know.” John’s fingers dug into an especially nasty knot. “I’ve been working out with her. “She’s a fast lil’ shit. Half of the time I don’t know what she’s gonna throw at me. Judo, karate, or that drunk monkey stuff.
Matt half groaned and snorted with laughter. “It’s a form of Kung Fu.”
“Whatever. She wants to take Kapawara next. Says it’s like kick ass dancing, except you can literally kick ass.”
“It’s all she can talk about. That woman won’t shut up when she’s crunching algorithms. I wish I could…” Matt didn’t finish the sentence because he was consciously trying to steer away moping over stuff he couldn’t do, to focusing on the stuff he could. John had told him no one, even with two good legs, could do everything so they were all in the same boat.
John’s hands faltered slightly. “Um, about that.”
Matt’s eyelids had fallen shut and he cracked one open. John sounded uncertain. “What?”
Most of the time John had all the subtlety of a bulldozer and the self-confidence to go with it. Professionally, he picked a course of action and said there was never any point in regretting a decision that had been made since you couldn’t change the past. Officers of the law had to be decisive. John was self-assured in his professional life, but in personal life, he still managed to show insecurity. He might be a bully to perps and jerks, but he was a down right softie as far as Matt was concerned. Some days he wondered what John’s ex-wife was thinking letting him go, but every day, he was thankful she had. Living and working with John wasn’t ever easy, but it was worth it and Matt wouldn’t have it any other way.
John wasn’t meeting Matt’s gaze and Matt wanted to kiss him. This gruff, middle-aged hero managed to be vulnerable and uncertain around him.
“Matty…” John whispered gruffly and sighed. He was struggling as he always did in moments when he was unsure. Using the nickname was a sure sign of that. His hand came to rest over Matt’s injured knee. John quickly glanced up and then down again. “Matt, I sort of…”
Matt was getting nervous and held his breath. “W-What?”
“Breathe, kid.” John gently squeezed his knee. “I know you’ve liked that stuff Nana-chan does.”
“John, I can’t do it. There’s no point in dwelling over it.”
“But, you can.” John dared to look up and the side of his mouth quirked into a hesitant smile. “I looked into it. There’s this thing called cane fighting…. a whole kick ass thing you could do, no problem. Nana-chan showed me some video on LoserTube…”
“YouTube?”
“Yeah, whatever.” John was used to Matt correcting him and Matt did it automatically. “Anyways, I figure you could get a black belt in this cane fighting stuff.”
“Do they even have black belts?”
“I don’t know,” John huffed. His tense shoulders relaxed, knowing Matt was intentionally baiting him. His thumb was rubbing circles on Matt’s knee. “What’cha think?”
The concept appealed to him for a variety of reasons. “Well, I have been known to hit people with my cane before…”
“Yeah,” John agreed with a soft, amused chuckle. “Even intentionally sometimes.”
“It’s not my fault if you tripped over it.”
John had never been one for public displays of affection. Holly used to want to hold his hand and that had been pushing it. But, with Matt, he always found himself touching the kid. A guiding hand on his lower back or laid over his neck. One of his personal favourites was brushing Matt’s bangs out of his face. John did that now, glad Matt kept his hair longer, even though he was always grumbling the kid should get a haircut.
“It’s not my fault if you leave it lying around for me to trip over. I think you’d be good at it and it’d make me feel better if we ever had to go out in the field.”
“I thought you said, quote, ‘My geeks are never being put in the line of fire and I’ll give any jackass a swirlie who so much as suggests they go out in the field,’ unquote.”
“Yeah, well, that’s true. But, if any one of you lot had to save the world in the real world, I’d trust you the most.”
Matt blushed slightly at the complement. “John…”
“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas in your big head.” John brushed Matt’s bangs away again and used the moment as cover to caress his cheek. “You can save the world from the comfort of your desk like you do every day. I worry about you not because you can’t take care of yourself, but, ‘cause that’s the kind of caveman shit I do.”
Matt really wanted to kiss John right now, so he did. It was a quick brush of their lips and John didn’t pull away. With their foreheads resting together, Matt whispered, “So, cane fighting?”
“Uh huh. I found the best place and had Frankie…”
“Freddie…”
“Whatever. I had ‘em run a million background checks to make sure this guy was legit and the best at what he does.” The unsaid, ‘only the best for you’ was implied. “You’ll ace this.”
“N’aw, man. I’m likely to be the only student to knock himself unconscious with his own cane.”
John chuckled and this time it was him who initiated the light brush of lips. “Probably, but, under that klutz, there’s an inner Master of self-defence and attack skills.”
“Thanks.”
“Buried really deep.”
“John…”
“Really, really deep….” John’s hand worked it way under Matt’s loose t-shirt and patted his stomach.
“McClane…”
His fingers traced a circle around Matt’s bellybutton. “Somewhere, maybe next to your pancreas.”
“I didn’t even know you knew there was such a thing as a pancreas.”
“I think I got it nicked once in a knife fight once. I’ll make sure to tell the cane guy to get extra insurance.”
“You’re so mean to me,” Matt teased. His breath hitched when John’s hand moved and settled over his heart, even if it was on the outside of his shirt.
“Save it for home, tiger.” He ruffled the back of Matt’s hair and gave him a hungry look of promise. Leaning in close, he whispered into Matt’s ear, “Handcuffs.”
“You’re evil,” Matt groaned and thumped his head against the couch.
John’s only response was a leer and an evil chuckle.
<><><><><><>
Matt never talked about his mom. It wasn’t that he hated her, but, it hurt too much. He missed so damn much. She’d tried her best with a skinny kid who was hyper active and too smart for his own good. His mom had worked two jobs to make ends meet and afford the crappy one bedroom apartment on her own. Matt had been making his own supper since grade one and had the TV for a babysitter.
Before Matt met John, he was completely happy with his culinary expertise. He could open and microwave anything by Chef Boyardee. He had mastered the art of speed dialling up pizza or Chinese takeaway. Cereal was a breeze and made the perfect meal 24/7 with a Red Bull chaser.
When he was in foster care, he’d experienced everything from well meaning retirees to those hippy foster parents with the fend-for-yourself attitude. He’d never been with anyone long enough to develop a taste for home cooking. In juvvie, the only thing he’d developed was a healthy distaste for mystery meat nuggets and meatheads. The only thing that he remembered from his mother was her stew. She would put stew in a crockpot before heading out for a double shift. Matt loved that she would wake him up when he fell asleep on the couch. With droopy eyes and yawns, Matt would eat stew with his mom watching late night infomercials. It was one of his best memories of her.
He would have thought John was useless in the kitchen. If you asked John, he would agree. But, then Matt tasted John’s cooking. The first night he spent over, he woke up to the smell of bacon. Not the microwave bacon Matt had splurged on a few times, but honest to goodness bacon. He stumbled into the kitchen, using the wall to support his weight. John had pointed to a cup of steaming coffee and then told him to sit the fuck down before he fell down. Matt had learned that morning that John knew how to make the best, fluffiest scrambled eggs that were horrible for you because they were cooked in bacon grease and topped in gooey, melted cheese. That morning established a ritual where John made breakfast for him, even if it was setting out a bowl of cereal and a banana.
John also taught him that a sandwich was more than a piece of meat thrown between two pieces of bread. The man didn’t take him to fancy restaurants, but he enjoyed taking Matt to a long list of hole-in-the-wall delis with the most mouth watering sandwiches. He took pleasure in ordering for Matt, introducing him the speciality of each place. Once he went on a ten minute rant about the perfect pickle. Pretty much, it was laid back, working class, and awesome. Just like John.
Despite popular belief, they didn’t spend every waking moment together. On Saturday morning, Matt woke up early to get an advanced copy of a video game. Understandably, he got caught up talking gaming and demoing stuff for his friend who was in development. When he got home, he wasn’t sure what time it was, but he smelt something delicious as he came through the door.
He found John in the kitchen. “Have fun geeking out?”
“It was awesome.” That was the first part of a seventeen minute verbal diatribe about the games he had tested out. John let him talk and nodded or grunted in the right places. The funny thing was that Matt knew that John didn’t understand a thing he was saying, but wasn’t just humouring Matt. He genuinely liked to see Matt excited and enthused about things he enjoyed.
After all of that, John smiled at him and asked, “So, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah.” Matt rolled his eyes and grinned back. “Yeah, it’s good. What are you making?”
“With Mrs. K around, I know you get the best food...” John glanced down and rubbed a hand over his head, stopping at his neck. It was a habit when he was nervous. “I just thought… ah, hell. I think it’s better than dog food, at least.”
Matt’s brow drew together. He was the world’s leading expert on McClane-speak, but even that needed further translation. “We’re having dog food for supper?”
“N’aw, it’s stew. I heard you talking to Nana-chan about how much you liked your mom’s stew, so I thought I’d try to make it.”
That had been over two weeks ago and a passing reference. Matt hadn’t even realized John was in the room. Matt noticed that there was a brand new cook book on the kitchen counter. The entire cook book was about stews. Matt blinked. “You made me stew?”
“I tried to make you stew,” John corrected. He used a wooden spoon to poke at the contents of the crock pot and scowled at it like it was the world’s worst perp. “I didn’t know what kinda of stew your mom made. Who knew there were a bunch of different kinds? Gravy versus tomatoes. I finally just picked one like my mom used to make.”
Matt realized that John was rambling. John never rambled. “I like stew. I’m sure I’ll love your stew.”
The potatoes turned out to be slightly crunchy and the gravy lumpy, but it was the best stew Matt ever tasted, even if it was nothing like his mother used to make. It was even sweeter when John mumbled that he was certain Matt’s mom would be proud of him. That night they fell asleep on the couch watching the baseball game and Matt couldn’t have been happier.
<><><><><><>
Sometimes, it was the smallest gestures that had the biggest impacts. John never brought him dozens of roses or boxes of chocolates, not that Matt wanted that. Today Matt had been so wrapped up in his work, he forgot to eat lunch. John tried to pry him away, but finally caught on and realized that Matt was in a crucial headspace. He left without further cajoling and dropped a pastrami sandwich and orange juice from Matt’s favourite deli on his desk.
Nana-chan rolled her chair over to Matt’s work station and tugged on a lock of hair. “So, how do you do it? Share.”
Matt stopped and took note of the section of code he was one. “Huh?”
“How did you tame the great John McClane?”
He unwrapped the sandwich and gobbled a big mouthful. With his mouth still full, he mumbled, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please. You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger. The man adores you.”
Matt washed down the sandwich with a gulp of orange juice. “Oh, whatever. Like Warlock doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?”
“I am perfect!” She waved her hand at her bejewelled, pink hoodie. “But, joking aside, it’s different. Warlock’s barely housebroken,” Nana-chan chuckled. “He still needs some training. His mom and I are still working on him.”
“I don’t understand how it’s different. You love each other, we love each other.”
Nana-chan blushed a little at the mention of love since her relationship with Warlock was still relatively new. “It’s different. He treats me like I’m breakable, when I could break him.”
Matt checked to make sure Warlock wasn’t in the room before he spoke about his best friend. “Behind all that bullshit, he kinda thinks you’re to good to be true.”
“He’s all cocksure, but it’s real. He is the best at what he does.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What?” Nana-chan blinked at him. “We all have our specialization. We’re the best hackers, but, his...”
“I know. I think it’s cute.” Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re his wet dream. A hot chick, hacker who actually finds what he does hot.”
“It is hot.” Nana-chan smirked. “He’s kinda like a big cuddly Ewok. He gets all intense and sweaty…”
“I’m cutting you off now. Plus, you like Mrs. K. Though, I think that scares him more than anything else.”
“I adore his mom, but dude, she even scares me. She’s already told me she wants lots of grandbabies.” Nana-chan sighed and bit her bottom lip. “My dad will flip when he finds out I’m dating a white guy. For him, it’s bad enough that I work with computers. He thinks I actually use my computer engineering degree for a standard job. He’s only ever wanted me to settle down with a suit wearing bore.”
Matt took another bite of his sandwich. It was great to see that Nana kvetching over Warlock the same way his friend worried about her. “Warlock’s anything but boring.”
“So, how do you make it work with John? Being, so different, I mean. That’s what I’m really asking.”
Matt nearly choked on his orange juice realizing someone was asking him for relationship advice. “Are you sure you want to be asking me?”
Now it was Nana-chan rolling her eyes. “Dude, you’ve got like the Holy Grail of relationships. You live and work together without killing each other. You’ve got love, respect, affection, and you laugh… plus, you’re seriously hot together.”
Matt spewed chewed bits of sandwich all over his keyboard. “Nana-chan!”
“What? You two are!”
“Um, thanks.” She was still look at him expectantly and Matt decided to share one of the things that John said that would always be with him. “I’ll tell you something John told me. You just have to figure it out together.”
“Awww, who knew John McClane was a romantic!”
END
~~~~~~~~ Back to Live Free or Die Hard ~~~~~~~~
