Chapter Text
The next week signals the end of the month.
This means reports are due to the Hunter Organization, MC’s point balance will be resetting at their favorite restaurant, and Tara will be asking to go out to some bar or music venue for a night of fun.
Most importantly, it means MC’s bills are coming in. Sixty dollars for electricity, twenty-five for water, so on and so forth. It’s never a time they look forward to. After all, who does? But they have a trick up their sleeve this month.
Or, rather, a card in their wallet.
Sylus wants them to spend his money? They’ll do just that.
They open their laptop and pull up the sites they usually use to make their utility and phone payments. Then, rather than letting everything auto-select to their usual debit, they pull Sylus’s card from its home in their wallet and begin typing in the number.
It only takes a few minutes, but by the time they’ve finished with their gas and phone bills, they’ve run up about a hundred dollars. They stare at the screen, cross-legged in their bed, biting their cheek. A little voice in MC’s head says they should feel bad. They resolutely tell the voice to shut up.
And you know what? They decide the hundred dollars isn’t enough. With a new and petty energy, they pull up the HP website; they’ve been needing a new laptop. The one they have has been through more than any device should, cracked and missing screws and coming apart slowly but surely. They’ve had it since before they began their Hunter training, back in their classroom days.
MC stares at the model they’ve been wanting. It’s fancier than they’d ever buy, a powerful thing with a touchscreen and tons of storage. If they’re honest, it’s something they’ve stared at but never seriously thought about buying, planning to purchase a computer that costs less than half of this one’s eight hundred dollar price tag.
But then Sylus’s annoying fucking voice rings in their head. “I wouldn’t mind if you spent a few thousand a day.” Oh really? Let’s see then.
With spite in their heart, they hit the “Purchase Now” button and type in Sylus’s card number with more force than strictly necessary. They even click on a faster shipping option, one that promises delivery by the end of the week. Before they can lose their nerve, they hit the confirmation button.
The digital receipt flashes on their screen. MC sinks back against their pillows. They can’t believe they’ve just done that.
Stop here, the sweet little voice in their head says disapprovingly. This isn’t your money to spend!
Another voice, louder and more insistent, shouts Make his pockets hurt!
MC sighs. They rake a hand through their hair.
And then they pull up AliExpress.
New Message from Rich Asshole 8:14 PM
Pretty.
MC blinks at their phone. Attached is a screenshot of a pair of shoes they ordered.
Rich Asshole 8:14 PM
The red will suit you nicely. Would you like the white pair as well? It would go well with the suit I’m having made for you.
What the fuck.
There’s no way this guy is for real. They ran up nearly three thousand on Sylus’s card earlier, adding clothes and decorations and stupid wishlist items to various online carts and hitting purchase without a second thought. And now, all he can ask is whether they want anything else? Insanity.
Perfect Hunter 8:16 PM
You’re fucking crazy
Rich Asshole 8:16 PM
Only when it comes to you, sweetie ♥️
With a loud groan of frustration, MC swipes over to a different screen and does something they’ve rarely done before. They hit call on Sylus’s contact.
The call connects almost instantly. MC opens their mouth to speak, not even knowing what they’re about to say, but Sylus beats them to it.
“I’ve added my card to the auto-pay function on your apartment’s billing,” he says smoothly. “Also, I canceled your laptop order.” MC blinks.
“Too much for you?” they smirk, though they know Sylus can’t see their expression. In return, the man laughs, that stupid, rich-ass laugh.
“You overestimate yourself,” he says, amusement absolutely dripping from his voice. “I ordered you a different one with a better processor. It should arrive tomorrow.”
“Sylus!” they shout, jaw dropping open as they make a frustrated, appalled motion with their hands, even though Sylus obviously can’t see it. In return, Sylus hums, low and calm and smooth, just like he always is. “That’s– That’s too much. I don’t need that thing for anything other than shitty movies and job reports.”
MC groans, flopping back against their pillows and letting their phone fall out of their hand. Right, of course. On top of being rich as hell, charismatic, and objectively the hottest man they’ve ever seen, Sylus is also incredibly knowledgeable about tech, both hardware and software. It’s awful.
“You suck,” they mutter, hoping the phone’s mic won’t pick up on their frustrated grumbling. But, because the universe hates them, the words go through, drawing another laugh from Sylus.
“I’m terrible, I know,” he says, and MC can imagine the infuriating smirk on his lips as he says it. “Why don’t you come over to my place and tell me to my face just how terrible I am?”
“What,” MC teases. “You want to have another sleepover?” They laugh softly at both their own wording and at the mental image of Sylus at a sleepover, cross-legged on a fluffy rug and painting his nails over some questionable gossip. But no, their so-called "sleepovers" are something much more indulgent.
It’s not uncommon for Sylus to invite them over in the evening and spend a few hours entertaining them with heavenly food and pleasant conversation. They usually end up staying awake into positively ungodly hours of the morning, chatting and joking and sometimes drinking until Sylus ushers them into the guest room like a concerned mother to make sure they get some rest.
They’d never admit it to Sylus’s face, but MC loves those nights. The hours they spend together sit warmly in their heart, the teasing and fighting and their own personal brand of weird flirting all something to cherish.
On the other end of the line, Sylus hums, as if considering. "How soon can you be here?" MC glances at the clock.
"Give me an hour?" they estimate. "Your usual residence, right?" They mentally go through the time they'll need — maybe fifteen minutes to pack a few overnight essentials and get into their biking gear, and at least forty to get to Sylus's place if they're, ah, selective about speed limits. Yeah, an hour should do it.
But of course, Sylus has his complaints.
"An entire hour, sweetie?" he says, his tone teasingly disappointed. "Aren't you eager to see me?" MC scoffs even as they stand from their bed.
"In your dreams, maybe," they mutter, though they can't deny the truth in his words. Sylus makes a punched-out, wounded noise on the other end, ever one for dramatics.
"You wound me, hunter," he drawls, that deep, honeyed voice coming through the speaker and making MC shiver. Damn him. Him and his pretty face and his nice-ass voice and his stupid fucking brand of charismatic care. MC shoves a pajama shirt into their overnight bag with more force than is strictly necessary.
"You'll live," they say, picking up the phone and taking it with them as they barge into their bathroom to shove toiletries into a little bag (that Sylus had bought them after seeing them store their toothbrush in a rolled-up plastic one). Once that's in their backpack, they look down at their clothes — lounge shorts, yellow fuzzy socks, and some old ratty t-shirt they got for free back when they were in training. Definitely not bike clothes.
"I've gotta change," MC says, not really knowing why they're announcing it. Sylus hums in question on the other end of the line.
"Oh?" he says. "Did you want to switch to a video call for this part?"
"Perv," MC shoots back, prompting a chuckle from Sylus. They're glad that he's not here in person, that he can't see the blush on their face. Systematically, they banish any thought about those sharp eyes and calloused fingers on them and MC what is wrong with you?! Get a grip!
"I'm hanging up," they say, because they don't know what else they could. They can practically hear Sylus's self-satisfied smirk through the phone as he speaks his next words.
"See you soon, sweetie," he tells them, with the barest hint of breathy, saccharine allure. Fucking hell, MC feels like one of those stupid sailors, about to swim to their doom towards the siren on the rocky shore.
Sylus ends the call.
MC sits down on their bed, runs their hands through their hair, and tries to remember how to breathe.