A/N: The face claim of Matthew Swan is the delectable Chris Pratt! I don't own anything other than my OC Matt. Enjoy and please follow, favourite, and review!
Chapter One
"Oofff!"
With a hefty kick, Matthew Swan sent his opponent flying across the gym floor. He sauntered over to his drained opponent, who was now curled on the floor, hands clutching at their chest. Matt sent him a smug grin as he offered him a strong hand up.
"You know, Rob. Next time I could just give you a stick to beat yourself with. You'd certainly get less bruises." Matt grinned at Rob, as he pulled his client to his feet. Rob only wheezed in reply.
The two men began to stride towards the gym changing rooms, keen to shower off the sweat and stench.
"Well... If I ever want to be able to prove my mother wrong, to prove to her that I'm not the weakling of my family... I need to at least attempt training, even if I do lose every single time to you," Rob breathed heavily as he sought to catch his breath. When they reached the lockers, he grabbed a bottle of water from his bag. "But holy fuck, man, you're like a bloody tank."
Matt let out a booming chuckle, his laugh reverberating through the room. His grey-blue eyes twinkled as he gave Rob a slap on the shoulder, to which the smaller man flinched and groaned.
"Urgh, dude, really?" Rob whined. Matt grabbed his wash things and his towel and started to walk backwards to showers, all the while keeping eye contact with Rob.
"You're the one who pays me to do this to you!" Matt smirked, quickly dodging the bottle of shampoo that Rob had pitched at him.
"You're such a sadistic tyrant!" Rob yelled, panting harshly.
Matt cackled as he rounded the corner to the showers. As he showered, the hot water loosening his tight muscles and relieving his aching shoulders, he was given some peace and quiet to think.
His job as a personal trainer suited him. The hours were flexible, the pay was pretty good, and it kept him in good shape. Arguably, one of the only downsides was the amount of housewives he had fighting over him on a near daily basis.
Some of the other trainers who worked at the gym thought he was crazy. They thought it was perfect. You get to work out closely with a hot older lady, with lots of free time and money on her hands, who more often than not, really wants to fuck you. Matt hated it. The idea that these women were so happy to cheat on their husbands with someone who was practically a stranger, and felt that because they were paying you X amount of money, they were owed a long hard fuck by their trainer.
Matt shuddered. After the last time he'd been propositioned by a client, Mrs Eliza Simkins, he'd been very firm with the gym that he had a right to decline any possible client who he felt wasn't interested in getting a personal trainer for the right reasons.
Which was how he currently only had two clients, Rob, and another young man called August. Matt had been seeing Rob four days a week for almost 7 months, whereas the other guy, August, well... Matt considered the guy a client, as he'd been training with the him once a week for a few months. But the guy had just dropped off the map, and didn't pick up any messages that Matt left for him.
It was probably for the better, Matt decided, as he could never feel settled around him, always a little on edge.
Leaving the gym that evening, Matt stopped off at the reception to pick up his pay check. The blonde receptionist, Chelsea, took a pause from loudly smacking her chewing gum with overly inflated lips to send a flirty smile at him.
"Hey, big boy," Chelsea simpered, leaning forwards to close the distance between her and Matt.
Matt suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, and leant away from her.
"Er, hi, Chelsea. I'm just here to pick up my pay check and then I'm off," Matt grimaced as Chelsea's eyes lit up. "And no, that wasn't an invitation."
Chelsea's smile dulled a little, as she pulled out the envelope containing his pay check. As Matt reached his arm out to grab his hard earned wage, he was suddenly caught off guard as Chelsea gasped delightedly.
The blonde woman grabbed at his flexing bicep, "Oh my god, for reals though, these muscles of yours! Imagine them holding me down in bed... I'm getting wet just thin-"
"And on that note, I'm done," Matt winced, unlatching her claws from his muscle. "Look, Chelsea. I've been kind. I've been patient. But I've told you before I'm not interested in you, alright? So please, just fucking stop." Matt nearly growled at the woman, who frowned and slowly drew her arm away.
As soon as he was released, Matt turned and left the building.
"Holy hell." Matt groaned to himself. He rarely lost his temper, but that woman was just something else.
As Matt started the short trek back to his and Emma's apartment, he heard his mobile vibrating and ringing loudly. A quick look at the screen confirmed it was indeed his twin calling him.
"Hello, this is Boston Morgue. You stab 'em, we slab 'em. How can I help you?" Matt answered in a jokey manner, receiving a weird look from a passerby.
"Matt!" His sister's voice hissed at him down the phone, sounding panicked and confused. Something which Matt had rarely heard from his stubborn, hard to phase twin.
"Em? Whats happened? How did that, er, 'date' of yours go?" Matt paused, his mind racing with possible reasons that his twin might be freaked. "Wait, that scumbag didn't try anything, did he? Oh, just wait till I wrap my hands around his puny little-"
"Matt! Focus!" Emma interrupted him, still speaking in a somewhat hushed tone. "It's nothing like that, the date went fine and I arrested the guy. Done and dusted..."
As he turned the corner of the block, with his apartment block in sight, Matt considered just how bizarre that statement would be to anyone who didn't know that his sister worked as a bail bonds person.
"...No it's..." Emma trailed off, sounding pained. "Look, what time will you be back?"
Matt glanced at his whereabouts, "Well, give me about 3 minutes to climb the stairs of our building, and then I'll be home."
"Oh thank god, just... Actually, you'll see when you get here." Emma ended the call, and Matt stared at his phone feeling very confused.
A few minutes later, Matt unlocked the door of his apartment and dumped his gym bag in the corridor alongside Emma's abandoned high heels.
"Em?" Matt called out, as he shrugged off his jacket. His sister's head popped around the corner of the hallway, an expression of relief flooding her face.
"Freaking finally, Matt!"
"Hey, what's going on?"
"My son's turned up, that's what's going on!"
Matt froze and stared at Emma in shock, his surprise and confusion reflected in Emma's face.
"Wha... What... How? The one you had in prison...?"
"No, the kid I had in Hawaii... Yes, the one I had in prison!" Emma smacked his chest. "At what other point have I been pregnant, doofus?"
Matt sent his sister a deadpan glance, as his wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Standing at about 6'3, Matt provided a large cosy shelter for Emma.
"I know, I'm sorry, I just... How did this happen?"
"Fuck if I know. He says he's called Henry," His sister's voice was muffled against his hard chest. "You stink by the way," She added. "What the hell is that smell?"
Matt grinned. "That, my beautiful sister, would be my new tropical scented shower gel."
"Urgh," Emma snorted, and gently pulled away from her brother's warm embrace. "I preferred the last one."
"The cinnamon scented one? Em, admit it, you're addicted," Matt smirked down at his twin, before smiling softly. "Happy birthday, baby bear."
"Happy birthday, big bear," Emma replied tenderly. The two siblings shared a brief moment. "So, did you bring me a gift?" Emma asked cheekily.
"Woman, I am the gift."
SMACK.
"You abusive little-"
Emma snickered at her twin, before a young voice calling from the kitchen brought them back to the moment.
"Hey, you have any orange juice?"
Matt and Emma glanced at each other.
"Never mind, found some."
The two adults strode into the kitchen, Matt curious to meet his nephew. He entered the kitchen to see a young boy chugging juice from the carton like there was no tomorrow.
Upon seeing the large man entering the kitchen, Henry's eyes flew wide in awe and excitement.
"Woah, you look so strong!" Matt smiled, as the kid continued, "Are you my uncle? Can I call you Uncle Matt?"
"Er," Matt glanced at Emma who seemed to be edging towards the phone. "We'll see kid. Wait, how'd you know my name?" He sat down opposite the kid on a barstool.
"Eh, that's not important right now, besides you're not ready yet." Henry shrugged nonchalantly. "You know, we should probably get going."
Matt and Emma exchanged an incredulous look.
"Going where?" Emma asked Henry cautiously.
"I want you to come home with me. Both of you." Henry grinned at Matt, who grinned back goofily, much to Emma exasperation.
"Matt, not helping!" She growled disapprovingly. She then turned her piercing gaze back to Henry. "Okay, kid. I'm calling the cops." Emma reached for the phone.
As Emma typed in the number, Matt watched his nephew and saw the smug smile growing on his face.
'This kid's definitely related to me', Matt thought to himself. 'Cheeky little bugger.'
"Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me." Henry raised an eyebrow, his smug look topped with a brief look of happiness that his Uncle found him amusing.
Emma froze at his words. Matt found himself silently cheering his nephew on. Now that he'd met the kid he was somewhat reluctant to say goodbye so soon.
"And they'll believe you because I'm your mother." She sighed, rubbing her temple.
"Yep!"
"He's got you there, Em."
"Matthew, shut it," A look of realisation flickered in Emma's eyes as she herself gained a smug look. "You're not going to do that."
"Try me." The little boy piped up.
"You're pretty good. But here's the thing… There's not a lot I'm great at in life. I have one skill. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying and you, kid, are." Emma smirked and turned back to the phone.
"Ooh, things just got interesting," Matthew commented, waggling his eyebrows. As both Emma and Henry turned to look at him, he was taken aback by the sudden resemblance of the two's facial expression. His eyes widened. "Woah, weird."
"Wait..." Emma paused at Henry's words. "Please don't call the cops. Please, come home with me." He begged her, unashamedly using his best puppy eyes.
At this point, Matt decided it was his turn to do the questioning.
"Hey, kid. Where's home?"
Henry turned his puppy eyes on his new Uncle, and replied, "Storybrooke, Maine."
Matt couldn't repress his laughter after that answer. Storybrooke? As Matt had a hysterical laughing fit, his twin tried to be somewhat more mature.
"Storybrooke? Seriously, kid?" Emma frowned at Henry.
"Mm hmm."
"Alrighty, then. Let's get you back to Storybrooke," Emma murmured and shook her head. "Matt, grab your stuff, I'm not doing this on my own."
Matt grinned. "Woo, roadtrip!" He chortled, giving Henry a fistbump. Henry cheered up, smiling back at him.
THWACK.
"First of all, rude! Second of all, you abusive little-"
"Behave yourself, you're a 28 year old man!" Emma scolded him. Matt stuck out his bottom lip in reply, as he eyed the slipper that Emma had hit him round the head with. He turned back to Henry.
"See what I've gotta put up with here? No wonder I don't have a girl, if she ever met Em she'd go running for the hills," Matt whispered to his nephew in a conspiratorial manner.
And that was how Matt found himself in the passenger seat of his sister's yellow VW bug, with her long lost son in the backseat.
What a day.