undergrounds | Room for Rent

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Room for Rent

Who: Matt and Simon
What: Matt's come about the "flat" for rent.
Where: Simon's Flat
When: October 20
Rating:Teen - for Matt being, well, Matt

London.

Matt stepped off the plane at Heathrow and smiled. He'd never been out of the country before. Hell. He'd never been past New Jersey before. The air felt different here - older and more mature. It was probably his imagination but for the first time he felt right as though a piece of him belonged there. Of course, all tourists probably felt that way, he thought to himself as he grabbed his belongings (two large duffle bags and one crumbled looking plastic suitcase that nearly looked like trash bags) and headed out to find a taxi.

He spent the first few hours wandering around the city, getting a real feel for the energy that flowed through it. It didn't matter that he had little clue as to where he was or where he was going. He always trusted his gut to take him in the direction he needed to go. It wasn't long before he found himself inside of a Starbucks (of course, they had to be everywhere) and reading through the Craigslist Rooms for Rent page while he sipped his coffee.

One post aught his interest instantly. A decently priced room for rent was available with a single "flatmate". The pictures weren't that glamorous but a room was better than sleeping on the streets. Besides, it was in his price range and he could pay for the first two months up front. Figuring it was a sign, he took down the posters info and texted the owner his interest. It didn't take long before his phone buzzed and he followed the directions to a building not far from the coffee shop.

Matt hit the buzzer and waited to be let up, not at all concerned that whoever opened the door would think it strange he came to a roommate interview with his bags already packed. He knocked on the door, holding out his hand the moment it opened.

"Hi," he said brightly. "I'm Matt. Guess I'm you're new roommate!"

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Simon had a bag of frozen peas pressed to his left shoulder, which was still battered and bruised from the fight to retake Lambeth. The doctors at the hospital hadn't believed a word of his story about falling off a bike, but at least they hadn't asked too many questions and had given him ample painkillers. God save the NHS.

He pulled open the door and sat blinking at the teenager--the very American teenager--on the landing. He was awfully young, wasn't he? And--

Wait.

"You are? According to whom?"

"Well, you, of course," Matt said as though it was the most natural thing in the world to show up at someone's place and declare yourself their roommate. "You did put that post on Craigslist, didn't you?"

He picked up his bags and stood there, waiting to be invited in. "Don't worry about helping with my things. I travel light. Besides, you look as though you've been through the ring. Steak works better for bruises than peas, you know. Can I come in?"

"I said I was interviewing," Simon replied flatly, arching an eyebrow. "And you're ready to move in. I don't know a thing about you."

Was he a nudist? God, he hoped he wasn't a nudist. Or that one older man who had asked Simon if he could exchange sex and "reiki healing massage" for rent.

Oddly, though, Simon found himself moving aside for the stranger, allowing him to deposit his bags in the cramped living room that was meant to double as the flatmate's bedroom.

"I don't even know your surname. Or whether you can pay £310 a week."

"It's Jones and here... if you'll give me a second..."

Matt knelt down and opened one of the grey duffle bags. Everything was folded neatly despite the shabbiness of the luggage. He pulled out an envelope and counted out the bills. "Luckily I made the exchange before I left," he said, standing up with a smile. "Better rates at triple A, or so they told me."

He handed Simon two months rent without batting an eye. "Nice place," he said. "A bit small but I've lived in smaller. Do you need me to sign a lease? Or do you want to head out to the bar down the street while I give you my life story and tell you why I'm not some creepy serial killer on the run from the cops back home? I won't even have to use my fake ID here - man, London is great!"

Matthew Jones opened his bag and produced more cash than Simon--who had not grown up poor or even moderately middle class--had ever seen in one place. Ever.

The Queen stared back at him in neat bundles that were soon stacked high on the coffee-cum-dining table (there wasn't room for both so he usually ate his meals sitting on the futon that was soon to be Matt's bed) as he counted it all out. There was nearly £2600, all told, more than two month's rent.

"No lease," Simon found himself saying. "The owner's my mum's cousin; we're doing this a bit under the table." Not that he thought his landlord would mind much, given the prodigious pile of cash. "Rent's counted per week instead of per month like in the States, but he usually ends up collecting it all from me 'round the fourth week of the month." Which was next week.

"Let's get the money hidden and we can talk the rest over a drink." This was all utterly insane, and yet Simon found himself agreeing with everything Matt said. "The best pub's actually two street's over. There's a match on tonight and the one up the road's going to be full of drunk Chelsea fans."

"Soccer hooligans," Matt nodded, half tempted to go to the bar with the rowdy fans. "I guess some place quieter would be better even though seeing a pub brawl is on my list of things to do in the UK."

Matt picked up the bills and placed them carefully back into his envelope. He was generally a good judge of character and even though he just met the guy he didn't think twice before trusting his belongings with Simon. "I saw in a movie once where they hid money in a plastic bag suspended in the tank of the toilet. Just an idea."

"Football," Simon corrected lightly, feeling distinctly weird about the easy rhythm he was falling into with a complete stranger. "You'll have to get used to saying it here, if you plan to stay. And I doubt they're going to brawl. Usually they just get loud and obnoxious."

Simon eyed the envelope and for a moment he was oddly tempted to follow Matt's idea and maybe put it in the tank and--

He blinked.

"It's a bad one. Stick it in the desk drawer for now."

"Tomato,tomato," Matt dismissed, still smiling at Simon until he saw the confused look cross his face. A stab of fear struck his chest as Simon seemed to shake something off before disagreeing with him for the first time. Shit - had he been sweet talking again?

"The drawer, right," Matt said, losing some of the confidence he's had until that moment. "That's a better idea. I think the show I saw was about drug dealers. Probably best not to take that sort of advice."

Simon gave Matt another strange look. Hell, was he a drug dealer? Was that why he had so much money on hand and had suddenly decided to flee the States?

"Probably not," he agreed, still looking slightly unsettled.

The desk, like the rest of the flat, was covered in clutter, despite Simon's best efforts to clean the place before his guest (new flatmate?) arrived. There was room for the envelope in the drawer, though. Sort of. If you crammed it in hard enough.

"Right. Shall we?"

"Yes," Matt said, grateful to get out of the awkward situation. Besides, the condition of Simon's desk made him itch to organize it. He might appear to be laid back but when it came to organization, Matt was the king.

"I suppose you have questions," Matt said, making an effort to keep his words from pushing Simon in any particular direction. When he was enthusiastic he forgot himself and his words became magic, tempting and seducing others. He could control it if he remembered.

"Ask me anything. I'll be as honest as I can be - within reason that is."

Questions. Yes, he definitely had questions.

"First and foremost," Simon said, "I need to know if you're legally able to work in this country. Have you got the right visas? I don't want to get into a situation with the immigration authorities. Also, why did you leave the States?"

Matt laughed. Of all the questions he was expecting, illegal immigration wasn't one of them. "Yes, I obtained all of the proper visas and passports before I left. How old do you think I am?"

He opened the door and gestured for Simon to follow him out. "I left for a lot of different reasons. Mostly, I needed a change of scene. And no, I don't have the cops looking for me. I'm just your typical high school graduate looking for an adventure."

"No idea." Simon rolled his eyes. "I don't know anything about you but apparently we're meant to be living together and--"

What? Why had he said that?

And why was he following Matt out of his own door?

"I like that," Matt said. "Meant to be. Life is weird that way."

Matt let Simon lead as he didn't quite know his way around and would probably find himself wandering London looking for that one particular pub. "And I could say the same about you, you know. You're Craigslist ad really didn't go into personal details. For all I know, you're looking for a handsome young man to seduce for nefarious purposes. I could be just your type."

"Or maybe Mum and Dad got tired of subsidizing my life and the cost of living in London is beyond what most normal human beings can pay," Simon pointed out. "And you're not my type."

"That's a shame. I enjoy some nefarious things," he said with a wink. "And you are my type but no worries on that front. I'm not looking for a roommate with benefits. It's my first night in town. We can always build to that, if it comes up."

"Don't make it awkward," was all Simon had to say to that. "I haven't yet said yes, you know."

He didn't have a problem with Matt liking other guys, of course, he just thought that the living situation would quickly become unbearable if there was unresolved sexual tension floating around. He'd seen it happen with some friends while they were all in student accommodation at UCL and he didn't really need a repeat performance.

"I've got a...well, I don't know what she is but she may come by." That was mostly wishful thinking on Simon's part. He'd only been on a couple dates with Skip since their drunken coupling but Simon figured that hope springs eternal. "I'll let you know well ahead of time. And you're welcome to bring in dates, too, as long as it's not an every night thing and let me know before." See? He was totally fine with it.

He held open the door to The Red Lion for Matt and kept talking. "I mentioned it in the ad already, but I want to re-emphasize that I am a student and I keep somewhat irregular hours. If I'm not in the lab or at work, I may be sleeping. I ask that you keep it down to a reasonable level until about noon or so, and after one-thirty in the morning."

Edited 2015-10-23 06:40 (UTC)

"Relax," Matt laughed following Simon into the pub. "First, I was kidding about the my type thing. I mean, yes, you are, but so are most people I meet. I'm not going to suddenly go Single White Female on you."

Simon seemed incredibly uptight. He must have had a bad experience with a roommate before, Matt thought. He could sympathize."

"As for the other, I'm dabbling with the idea of going to school. I was invited to join the Redbright institute. Not sure if it's the place for me but I figured why not check it out?"

"Redbright?"

Simon looked up sharply, despite himself. Matt was Redbright? Of course he was. With the way his life had been going these days, it made sense that he wouldn't be able to get away from the supernatural world even at home.

Though it would make it easier if he ended up transforming for whatever reason.

"You're..." he trailed off. "...who invited you to join?"

Matt shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not really sure. Some letter came in the mail. To tell you the truth, I was a bit skeptical because I didn't apply anywhere, least of all to a University in London. But, my Aunt was happy to see me go. Probably the first thing she's said to me over a sentence long in... I don't know how many years."

Matt's voice seemed to trail off a bit then. Thinking about his Aunt just lead to more family thoughts and Matt wasn't in the mood to travel down that particular path. "Anyway, I'm here so I might as well see who put my name on the mailing list."

He glanced over at Simon and noticed the peculiar look on his face. "Why? Is there something wrong with the school? I won't be surprised I was scammed. I half expected it."

"It's not a university," Simon replied quickly, thinking. Was Matt so powerful that he'd been noticed even in the States? What were his powers, anyway? He certainly smelled like a normal human. "More like high school, as you Americans know it. The day students are usually under-eighteens, but there are adult classes as well."

If Matt was being sent letters from Redbright, shouldn't he at least know what the school actually was?

Play it casual, O'Neill.

"Redbright is really quite exclusive," Simon pointed out. Best to play to the ego. "If you're being invited to the school, you must be fairly talented."

Matt raised his eyebrow at the fact Redbright was a high school. That was one place he really didn't want to return. "They must have missed the memo then," Matt frowned. "I graduated. No fancy honors but I wasn't exactly scraping by. I'm not interested in remedial classes."

Still, there was something that Redbright had mentioned that still piqued Matt's curiosity. Somehow they had known about his special way with words. His Aunt may not have picked it up in the way the letter was phrased but he sure as hell did.

"If by talent you mean I have a natural ability to charm my way into and out of most situations, then you've hit it right on the nose," Matt said, being as vague as possible. "Other than that, I'm not sure what they are looking for. Back home, I'm not exactly what you call special. Just your typical average American teenager."

The description of Matt's "natural ability" gave Simon pause.

"And I take it that this charm of yours is how you managed to talk your way into my flat with all of your things?"

Witch or metahuman? Or maybe even fae, and he's just playing Simon for a fool with all this talk about being a "typical average American teenager?"

Christ, when did he become so paranoid? He was semi-dating a werewolf and had just helped clear Lambeth of fairies and evil witches; no matter how much he had tried to avoid it, the supernatural world had well and truly creeped into his life. He should be used to it by now.

"So persuasion's your thing. Not very typical at all, I'm afraid, but if you don't use it on me again I suppose we might attempt a trial period as flatmates. Since you've already shoved thousands of pounds at me, and all."

"Right, about that..."

Matt sighed, his perpetual smile disappearing. "I can't always control it. My power or gift or curse, whatever you want to call it, just happens. I'm not always aware of it. Of course, you do realize you could always say no. My influence might push you in one direction or another but I'll be damned if I take away your ability to say no."

Matt's insistence on this last point was fierce. He met Simon's eye, determined that his new flatmate would at least understand Matt's conviction. "I won't ever force you to do something against your will. Ever."

Simon's voice softened slightly. "Redbright will help. They'll show you how to control...whatever it is."

He didn't mention how he knew this.

Matt's ability sounded like it could be dangerous, but at least he seemed to realize it. Simon respected that, even if the prospect of living with someone who, despite all Matt's protests, could probably persuade him to do anything kind of terrified him.

But still...

"You seem to trust me quite a bit, with all this."

Matt gave Simon a puzzled look. "Of course I trust you," he said. "We're going to be roommates after all. Besides, when I said Redbright you tensed. And the fact that I seem to have abilities that are unexplainable doesn't seem to phase you. Which means one of two things. Either you are the chillest person I've ever met or you've your own little secret that can't be explained by 'normal' means."

Matt winked at Simon. "I'm inclined to believe the latter. So, what sort of drink do you want?"

"Beer, and you're buying."

Simon had chosen to stay strategically silent on the other matter. Of course Matt had his suspicions; why wouldn't he? Simon had called him out on...everything, so it stood to reason that he knew much more than he let on.

"Right, of course," Matt said. "Get the new guy to spend all of his money. I can buy one drink. After that, I usually consider it a date."

Matt laughed as he headed over to the bar. He purchased two pints of lager and headed back, sliding one of the glasses over to Simon. "Cheers, roomie," he said, clinking the edge of his glass with Simon's. "Here's to the start of a beautiful friendship."

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Room for Rent

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