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Matt shuffled into the room, blood-red glasses sliding down his nose and cane loosely gripped in his hand. The slight shy uptick of his lips made Frank's stomach drop and the man could already feel the beginnings of a headache at his temples.
“Oh dear me, do I have the wrong room? I seem to have interrupted something of importance,” his tone made him out like a lost puppy and Frank was desperately trying not to roll his eyes.
“Yes. You have,” a slimy stout man who called himself a gang leader snapped, clearly already annoyed by the blind man’s presence.
Now Wade was grinning.
Not his usual goofy grin but more like a shark who’d just spotted dinner.
“What is a blind man, an Omega at that doin interruptin a very important meetin? What? You press the wrong fuckin button on the elevator cause you can’t fuckin see them?” the slimy man shook his head in disbelief.
Now if this had been two, maybe three years ago, Frank would have launched himself across the table and ripped the infuriating man's jugular out with his fucking teeth. But this was now and he was contemplating if now was an appropriate time for some shut-eye. He hadn't slept well the night before, Wade had had him on a job and Matt had been a needy little shit when he'd gotten home. He figured for now he would massage his aching forehead, sigh and resign himself to his current demise. What could have been potentially a quick meeting between a lowlife gang over some territory was now doomed to be a game of cat and mouse between his easily encouraged boss and his enabler of a mate.
“Sorry sir, it seems I did in fact push the wrong button on the elevator. How silly of me to push the very last button, very confusing those pesky things are when you can’t read, let alone see,” Matt made sure to keep the sarcasm rather light. Hoping his petty annoyance wasn’t overly obvious but still there in between the words of his abysmal apology. The grimy leader, who honestly needed to stop drowning himself in cheap cologne, grunted his disapproval and waved his foul greasy fingers at him in a sign of dismissal. Not that Matt was supposed to be able to tell.
The bastard grunted.
“Run off blind Omega, the Alphas are doing business you couldn' hope to understand. Try to count the buttons this time on your way down to the bottom or to whatever office you were on your way to service,” the insult of office whore did not go unnoticed by the occupants of the room. Fat Guy turned back to Wade, who had leaned back and relaxed. Not in the least bit inconvenienced from what Matt could sense. Matt’s once shy grin grew and became more predatory, making the heartbeats of their other guests jump in mildly disturbed confusion.
“Now Mr.Wilson, where’s that damn lawyer so we can sort this shit out. I don't have all day and you said Murdock was the best, surely he can have this sorted quickly. So why is he takin his sweet fuckin time?”
Oh, the best now was it?
Wasn't he just a cheap blind whore?
Clint snorted in the back of the room, too quiet for anyone but Matt to pick up.
Frank rubbed calloused fingers down his face and let out the deepest most fed-up sigh imaginable.
And Wade?
Wade’s smile grew, a dangerous display of fangs as he leaned back in his chair at the head of the table to watch the show. A pen twirling between his fingers.
With Fat Guy’s attention turned away from him, Matt slipped his cane into his coat. Straightened his suit jacket and tie. Pushed up his glasses and exuded perfectly tailored professionalism. As if a light switch had been flicked. The nuns at the orphanage would have swooned at his posture. No more lost puppy. Just cool and confident, his now almost Alpha-like presence commanding the room's attention.
Wade straightened in his chair seeing Matt switch gears. He set his pen down slowly, with the utmost control. Clasping his hands together on the table to lean slightly forward, giving the lowly boss his full undivided attention.
Matt could smell the sickly sweat from the man at Wade’s direct eye contact.
“Mr.Wallis, I’d like you to meet my most prized legal professional,” Wade raised a hand in Matt’s direction as Fat Guy turned his chair to see the man of the hour.
"Matt Murdock."
Frank needed a damn aspirin and maybe an entire bottle of whiskey.
Clint began to cackle.
Never mind, make that two.