The house was far too quiet.
Vinny sat curled into the corner of the large sectional couch, legs tucked under him, wearing one of Matthew's old hoodies — sleeves hanging long past his wrists, swallowing his hands. The television flickered in front of him, but he wasn't watching. The glow cast shadows over his face, and his thumb slowly traced the edge of the remote. The hoodie smelled like Matthew — spice, pine, and that sharp clean scent Vinny couldn't name but always associated with comfort and danger. His comfort. His danger.
It was almost ironic.
Since the warehouse incident, things had shifted between them. There was a heaviness in the way Matthew looked at him, not quite anger, not quite pain — more like realization. And that scared Vinny in ways nothing else did. It wasn't the blood, the bruises, or the aftermath of the fight that left him shaken. It was how Matthew touched him that night. Gentle. Careful. Like Vinny wasn't some weaponized pretty boy with sharp words and sharper secrets. Like he mattered.
The door clicked.
Vinny's heart jumped before he even turned to look.
Matthew stepped inside, shaking off his coat. His hair was tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it. A streak of red cut across his cheekbone, but it was already scabbing. Bruises bloomed dark on his knuckles. Vinny didn't ask what happened. He didn't need to.
Matthew's eyes flicked to him. "Still up?"
Vinny shrugged, lips quirking. "You know I don't sleep well when you're off being Batman."
Matthew didn't smile. He walked toward him, every step measured, every movement quiet. The couch dipped as he sat beside Vinny, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the hum of the TV and the distant tick of the old grandfather clock in the hallway.
Vinny shifted. "Want to talk about it?"
"No."
A beat.
Vinny tilted his head, examining him. "You're broody. Did someone hit you in the brain?"
Matthew turned to look at him, and for once, Vinny didn't flinch under that gaze. He leaned closer instead, the smirk back on his lips.
"I bet you looked hot while fighting though."
Matthew exhaled through his nose. "Vinny."
"What?" Vinny stretched his legs, one brushing Matthew's thigh. "You get all intense and deadly, and suddenly you're everyone's favorite walking threat. Admit it. You like it when people are scared of you."
Matthew reached out, fingers curling around Vinny's wrist. "Not you."
That stopped Vinny. His heart gave a traitorous flutter. "I'm not scared."
"I know."
For a second, they just stared at each other.
Vinny's voice dropped, teasing again. "What if I said I liked it?"
Matthew leaned in, their noses almost brushing. "Then I'd tell you to shut up and let me kiss you."
Vinny didn't need to be told twice.
The kiss wasn't soft. It was all teeth and heat, months of tension unraveling in the space between heartbeats. Matthew grabbed his waist, pulling him into his lap like Vinny weighed nothing, like he belonged there. Vinny's hands slid into Matthew's hair, tugging, testing — and Matthew let him. For now.
Their mouths moved like they were fighting for dominance. Lips bruising, breaths stolen.
Matthew finally pulled back, eyes dark. "You're insufferable."
Vinny smirked, breathless. "You love it."
"I do." A pause. "And that's the worst part."
They stayed like that for a while, tangled on the couch, the world outside forgotten.
But the world never stayed quiet for long.
Elsewhere, across the city, Tom sat alone in an abandoned train yard office. Dust caked the windows. The desk was cracked. But the map laid out in front of him was pristine.
Lines drawn. Names circled. Faces crossed out.
Kieran leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching him.
"You're obsessive," he said finally.
Tom didn't look up. "Strategic."
Kieran snorted. "Sure. That's what all maniacs say before the explosion."
Tom's jaw tensed. "He wasn't supposed to survive."
"You sent idiots. He walked out of that warehouse with half their bones in his hands."
"I know."
Kieran walked over, pulled out a chair, and dropped into it backwards, arms resting on the top. "You sure about this? All of this? Because from where I'm standing, it's looking a hell of a lot like revenge and not strategy."
Tom looked up then. "It's both."
Kieran tilted his head. "You still think he belongs to you?"
Tom didn't answer. But his silence said enough.
"I warned you about Vinny," Kieran said. "He doesn't play fair."
"No," Tom said quietly. "He plays to win."
Back at the apartment, Matthew finally broke the silence again.
"You're not telling me everything."
Vinny stiffened. "Neither are you."
Matthew stared at him for a long time. "What's between you and Tom?"
"Complicated."
"Uncomplicate it."
Vinny pulled away, sitting beside him instead of on him now. "We were friends. He was obsessed. I didn't notice. Or maybe I did, and I ignored it. He's... dangerous now. Not because he's smart — but because he's emotional."
"And you?"
Vinny looked at him, unreadable. "I'm emotional too. Just not for him."
Matthew's jaw clenched. "And for me?"
Vinny leaned in, whispering against his lips. "Only for you."
Matthew kissed him again, but this time slower. Less desperation. More possession.
That night, they didn't sleep much.
And somewhere far away, Tom made a phone call.
"They'll be distracted for a while," he said. "Make sure everything's ready."
The voice on the other end crackled. "Understood."
Tom hung up.
Then crossed off another name on his list.