Man's Best Friend [John Wick x Male Reader]

Chapter 7 - Not Normal, Together

When you and John returned to the daycare, you immediately headed upstairs and he collapsed on the bed. John didn't seem to have an further reservations to sleeping next to a dude, because he was out like light before you managed to give him some pain killers. You left them on the night stand and flopped down on the bed, sleep claiming you just as thoroughly.

You woke up to the sound of distant knocking. You'd shot up in a panic, your senses in overdrive as per usual. John didn't seem to have developed that particular defense mechanism because he was out like a fucking light. You stood up and approached the huge window, spotting the men at the door. They had come in a black SUV, which suggested they weren't police officers, but by their uniforms, they were likely still law enforcement. You opened the window and stepped out onto the window sill that you'd modified to function as a small balcony.

The men looked up. You ruffled your hair as you looked down at them, try to seem as disheveled and confused as possible. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

The short, african american man wearing thin framed glasses spoke first. "We'd like to have a word with you, Mr (L/N)."

You frowned at them for a few moments, implicitly urging them to elaborate. The man took out his badge and flashed it at you. You couldn't make it out very well but thankfully he supplied, "I'm FBI agent Sean Westwood. This is Agent Dan Barkley. We'd like to speak to you about an...incident that occurred near here last night."

You forced yourself to look appropriately interested abd concerned. "Shit does that mean you've been up all night? We'll make you some coffee. John!"

With a muffled groan you heard John stand up and approached you. "You don't have to shout (Y/N)-"

He paused to look down at the agents. You grabbed him by the back if the neck and pulled him towards you, feigning an unnecessarily romantic greeting while informing him of the situation.

"You alright with playing along, bud?"

John nodded. "It's a good cover."

You smiled and kissed him on the cheek, startling him slightly. "It is."

~~~

"Here," you said, handing John the painkillers and water while you led the the agents to the kitchenette. At Westwood's questioning glance you said, "He has a hangover. Sorry that we don't really have any seats. Maybe I should invest in a waiting room."

"Not really practical, considering people are generally in and out," John added and you hummed.

"That's also true. But shit, how much could two couches and a coffee table cost?"

Westwood seemed to be getting annoyed at the shallow conversation, so you smiled placatingly and began making your coffee. "You said there was an incident?"

"I can't reveal much information, but it was a targeted attack on a criminal organization. The attacker likely had military training."

The last sentence was leading, but you just gave him a flat look. "And you're here because I have military experience?"

Barkley nodded. You sighed, making yourself seem understandably annoyed. "I can give you a list of the weapons I own."

Westwood nodded. "That would be helpful. Where were you last night?"

"John and I went out to the city to drink. I'm friends with the owner of one of the bars there. After that we came back here. Don't know when exactly but I'm sure that one of my neighbors was nosy enough to note the time."

"I would also like to search your car."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm afraid you'll need a warrant for that, Agent Westwood."

"Are you afraid we'll find something incriminating?"

You sighed. "The only thing you'll find is dried semen."

John choked on his coffee and you pat his back, barely holding back a laugh.

"Jesus (Y/N)," he muttered. Agent Barkley was about just as red in the face as John. Westwood wasn't buying it, though. He opened his mouth to argue and you cut him off.

"If you truly want to search my property, get a warrant, please. Finish your coffee and leave. I hope you catch the perp soon. Tracking someone down is usually the worst part of the job. The manhunt is the fun part."

John snorted. "Can't believe you worked for law enforcement."

"Mhm yeah. I wasn't well liked," you said, taking his coffee mug and placing it in the sink. "What do you want for breakfast, Johnny?"

He fumbled with his wedding ring, seeming to mull over something before saying, "I recall you saying you'd take me out for breakfast."

You turned to him and grinned. "There's a great café near here. I want cheesecake."

He raised a brow. "Cake for breakfast?"

"Fuck yeah."

The agents cleared their throats. "We'll be going now. If we show up again, we'll have a warrant."

"That's great. Have a nice day, Agent Barkley."

The tall brunette nodded demurely, trailing out of the house behind his rather pissed off commanding officer.

"That was...exciting," John commented. You let out a breath.

"We've got a bit of evidence to get rid of."

"Cleanup and then breakfast?" He suggested. You turned to him with bright eyes.

"A man after my own heart," you stated dramatically.

He rolled his eyes with a soft smile on his face. "Get on with it. I'm hungry."

~~~

"You're seriously getting cake?"

"Affirmative."

"Do you have a sweet tooth?" John asked, resting his cheek on his hand.

"A little bit. You?"

"Hmm not really. I like fruit, though."

"You probably hardly ate on missions."

He nodded. "Did you?"

"When I was with the CIA, yeah. In Iraq? Only enough to keep my strength up. I have a bit of a one track mind when I'm pissed."

He huffed. "We have that in common."

"What's your favorite color," you asked out of the blue. He seemed momentarily surprised. "Yellow. Yours?"

"Red?"

"You sound unsure."

"I usually feel neutral about things until I don't. I don't know how to explain it."

John perked up. "No. I know exactly what you mean. Helen used to think I was just apathetic but...I don't know."

"Oh God I can relate to that. Lance genuinely thought I was an idiot when he met me. Turns out I'm just shit at understanding implicit meaning."

He made hummed in understanding. "It took me a while to notice that 'I'm doing the dishes' meant 'You should do the dishes, John'."

You pointed at him. "Fucking exactly that type of shit. Like, I cannot read minds. Please tell me exactly what the fuck you expect me to do."

He huffed, amused and then nodded once more. "I suppose that's why I got along with you so quickly. You're straightforward."

"Same with you. I've found it especially difficult to keep up appearances when meeting new people. I'm too tired to pretend."

"I don't think I ever learned how to pretend I was normal," John admitted.

You shrugged. "Then I guess we'll just be not normal together."

John seemed oddly moved by the declaration, staring into his cappuccino with a near goofy smile on his face. "Does that mean we're friends?"

You chuckled. "Yeah Johnny. I think it does."