Always Number Two (Matt Miller x Reader)

Chapter 9 ~ Saints' Deckers? Saints Deckers. No, Saint's Deckers.

Matt sat in the Saints' HQ. He seemed a little nervous. He was pacing back and forth. His cellphone began to ring, and he jumped. He was alone in the penthouse, having kicked out all of the Saints' allies so he could privately talk with the boss. 

The elevator doors opened, and he turned to them. He instantly received a punch to the face, and slid across the floor. 

"The fuck are you doing, Matt?" I spat. My hand curled into a fist again. He cowered, covering his face with his arms.

"Not the face! Not the face again, please! I'm too beautiful to be disfigured!" He screeched. I put my fist down, grabbing his tie and pulling him, face-to-face.

"Matt. I just received a shitload of fucking calls and complaints. Who said you could kick the Saints' Allies out of the fucking nuke plant?" I hissed. He went white.

"O-Oh...well, I just assumed, since I'm a pivotal part of your team, that I could have my base back..." He started. I put my fist in a ball. He flinched.

"Matt, you've done fuck all." I sighed. "Why the fuck would I give you anything when you haven't fucking done shit for me!?" 

"But... My supercomputers downstairs-" He protested. Another movement to hit him shut him up. "Okay. Look, STAG has infiltrated our defenses. They're everywhere. There is, however, a couple of blind spots-" 

"Matt, just get to the fucking point." 

"STAG is here, and STAG is attacking our members." Matt said. I began to laugh slightly.

"Maybe because you kicked our members out onto the street?" I raised an eyebrow, and Matt looked like a guilty puppy. He looked around nervously once more.

"I...well, you see... I needed absolute concentration to find out where to strike STAG and free our streets-"

"Save it, Matt. You're on my shit-list." I growled. He looked frightened. "You're coming with me for this."

"What? No! I can't go out into the field! I-I'm a genius! A hacker! A unit of intelligence!" He protested. I glared at him.

"Matt, we have Kinzie for a reason."

"Then why the hell am I here?" 

I couldn't really tell him I found every reaction of his amusing, could I? What could I possibly say to someone like Matt?

"Because we need your amazing intelligence on the field. I'm sure you come up with amazing plans and have lightning quick thinking." I said, feeding into his ego. "You're eye candy, which means I get a break while shooting people in the face.~" 

That was a fucking lie, but I did need Matt out in the field. 

"...I, well, heh, if you put it like that, I can't refuse..." He blushed. 

How fucking modest.

"Come on, Matty.~" I purred seductively. He turned white and began to back away.

"P-Please don't call me that. Killbane called me that. He is one scary psycho." Matt said. Shit, I made a mistake. "I-I mean, as long as you don't do it in an intimidating voice, I think I'll be fine..." 

"Look, Matt. I'll let you use the fucking nuke plant as a base if you just fucking come with me. Decker territory. Saints territory. Same thing." 

His eyes brightened up. "Really? You'll give the Deckers my territory back?!" 

"The Deckers are now the Saints Deckers. Remember that. Just as Viola joined us, the Morningstars are now the Saints Morningstars." He didn't seem to be listening to me. He seemed more interested in planning out how he'd redesign the penthouse to hold neon. "Matt? You gotta fucking come first."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Let's go." He followed me to the elevator. "Oooh, I can change it to a tube and make it look like teleportation- the Deckers would love that!" 

"Just get in the fuckin' elevator, you ambitious prick." I pushed him into the elevator. 

"I'm not being mean, so prick can't apply here-"

"If I say you're a fucking prick, Matt, you're a fucking prick!" 

"Yes, Sir!"

~ ~~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~

We were driving towards a STAG base. They had set up near Burns Hill, which was a major problem for the Saints patrolling the street. On the way there, we witnessed a few acts of police brutality- Deckers, Saints, and Morningstars alike getting the shit kicked out of them. There were a couple rioters, with signs like 'Saints Sux!' and 'Deckers drool!' and 'Morningstar hos go home!' 

I ran over as many as I could. They scattered. Matt almost climbed out of the window. 

"That's what you get for fucking with the Deckers!" 

"Saints, Matt, Saints. Saints Deckers." I muttered. If he didn't use Saints, people might think the Deckers were a separate organization. 

The Deckers were just a branch of the Saints. They still had their sigil, but it was now classified as a Saints Deckers sigil. 

"That's what you get for fucking with the Saints' Deckers!" He attempted to correct himself.

"Grammar, Matt, grammar! Yes, the Saints own the Deckers, but the name is no longer just Deckers, it's Saints Deckers. It's one title, Matt, not Saints'. Saints' Deckers implies we own you as sex slaves or something." I said, honking my horn. Matt slid back into his seat.

"Screw grammar. Geniuses don't need grammar!" Matt yelled. I could tell he was excited. "Couldn't Saint's Deckers work too?" 

Fucking Matt.