Chapter 3
As a kid, Matt was curious. He questioned anything and everything, from why the sky was blue, which ended up with Jack making a trip to the library to be able to answer, to why was the world unjust, which was something he still couldn’t answer.
But soon enough, Matt learned not to question things. Things like why were people ableist assholes, or why did he needed to study so much theory he will never use, or why did aliens always attack New York and no other cities. Questions everyone asked themselves, questions Jack himself wondered about, but questions he knew bothered Matt more than most.
Becoming Daredevil, he learned to question even less, and started to act instead. Jack, on the other hand, Jack started to have so many more questions. Sometimes, stitching Matt up, he thought he should finally move out. Not that it would make him worry any less. So maybe not. How the tables have turned.
Last night, Matt came back without needing stitches. He came back early, which usually meant he was either unharmed or barely standing, but he didn’t even let Jack know he was home, which pointed to the first. But Jack heard. Because Matt wasn’t alone.
Days like that it felt somewhat awkward for them to still live together, with the walls as thin as they were. And yet, Jack couldn’t really justify getting separate places, neither financially nor for practical reasons, and truth be told his heart just wasn’t in it, so he didn’t try. Matt, even as he got older and started to have his own life, didn’t seem any more eager to leave home either, and Jack was secretly grateful for that.
But hearing distinctly British awkward dirty talk in the middle of the night was most certainly not what he needed. He stood up with a sigh. At least having a sensitive kid meant there was an abundance of sound cancelling headphones laying around.
Most days nowdays, at least, Jack could count on whoever Matt dragged home being gone by the time he woke up. No such luck today. He heard voices before he left his bedroom, suspiciously American considering last night - Matt didn’t drag in multiple people, did he? Oh God. His need for coffee won out with dread eventually, and he found Matt at the stove, making what looked like an omelette with bell peppers. It was his favourite ever since he was a kid and Jack used it to smuggle vegetables into his diet.
„Good morning.” He greeted loudly, refusing to act awkward and settling on making this uncomfortable for everyone else instead. The date, mostly. Matt had at some point learned that very same attitude from him and refused to feel awkward for a day in his life.
The date, singular, and apparently no longer British, a fact Jack simply chose not to question, turned to look at him, startled. The poor guy seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. He was quite handsome. Somehow, Matt tended to attract beautiful people, even if he couldn’t obviously tell. Jack sat at the kitchen table, their guest not saying a word the entire time, and he looked almost scared, pale and frozen. Jack was about to ask him if he was alright himself, but Matt seemed to pick on the unnaturally long silence, or maybe yet something else about the man, and he turned to him with concern in his eyes.
„Marc? Are you alright? Marc.” No reaction. „Marc? ...Steven?”
Hmm. So there were two names.
The man didn’t blink for a while, and Jack was starting to get worried, and then suddenly he closed his eyes and tensed as if someone dunked a bucket of cold water over him, and then he face palmed as if he remembered he left the iron on.
„Mierda!” Oh great. Now Spanish. Jack would really like to know what was going on here. The man at the table let out a string of what sounded like angry and colorful words, and Jack considered if he maybe should have just stayed in his bedroom until the guy deadass bowed his head to him like...
„Jake apologizes for Marc, and for this, and says they can go if it’s a problem - it’s not a problem, Jake. He also apologizes if you heard us last night. Oh God.” His face was a picture of pure morbid realization.
Jack smiled at, Jake apparently, and lied through his teeth.
„No, I didn’t even realize when you came in.” Matt would know it was bullshit. Served him right for taking people home on days Jack didn’t have a night shift.
He ate his omelette - even blind, Matt could always cook better than Jack ever did, and he tried to make some casual conversation, but it turned out difficult with Matt having to serve as Spanish-English translator. He and Jake excused themselves and left right after breakfast, and as Jack smiled at them when letting them out, he caught himself hoping this guy wouldn’t stay around too much, whatever his name was.
Certainly, when compared to Elektra and that shitshow, no one could really be worse, and besides all the weird shit, Jake (probably - he was going to go with Jake) seemed actually nice, but at the end of the day, Jack figured Matt’s life was strange enough, and for his own heart, he would appreciate it if his boy found someone less interesting next time.
A father could hope.