So what if he looked stupidly, ridiculously, cheesily happy then? He was taking this opportunity to talk to Mr Supermodel while he could. Which reminded him…

"So, uh. I, um, don't know your name?" Matt squeaked. "You must think I'm really awkward and a terrible host, I'm sorry."

Mr Supermodel huffed in honest disbelief. "Are you really apologising for like, almost dying?" he asked, with honest concern which made Matt feel like a huge asshole for taking advantage of him. Matt opened his mouth to reply when Mr Supermodel said, "Wait, no, don't answer that. Coffee's ready!"

Uhhh. What? Matt blinked, watching that fabulous ass hustle around the kitchen as Matt settled into his little cocoon of blanket and fluff. Mr Supermodel turned around, holding Matt's favourite polar bear shaped mug and grinning in a way that Matt would have almost called cunning, if the expression was on anyone else. As it was, he just looked like the human equivalent of a giant puppy who'd managed to sneak his way into the dog food.

He presented the mug proudly to Matt.

"Hi, my name is Alfred F. Jones and I'll be your server today!"

That alone would have left Matt speechless and red as a lobster, but then Alfred had to lean into Matt's ear and whisper, conspiratorially, "And no, the F does not stand for Fucking. Although I can do that too, if you like." He winked.

Matt might or might not have let out a tiny squeak. Alfred laughed at that, ruffling Matt's hair good-naturedly, the fucker, and yet Matt couldn't help but feel like he'd suddenly plummeted beyond the point of no return when it came to one Alfred F. Jones.

Which was a huge feat considering he'd only known him for ten minutes.

He raised an eyebrow at Alfred, taking his mug and hiding his smile behind it. "Right, then. So, Alfred. What brings you here to my shitty apartment anyway? Were you looking for one of my neighbours? I figured someone as attractive as you wouldn't just randomly stick around in hallways to pick up a loser like me. "

Matt didn't figure someone as forward as Alfred to be the sort of person who would get flustered at that. But well, obviously he could be wrong.Fuck. Alfred was staring at him now. He'd probably messed up everything, hadn't he? But wait, if he got flustered, would that mean he had been camping out in the halls to pounce on unsuspecting idiots like Matt?

…

…Maybe Alfred was a serial killer.

Shit. Shitshitshit. What if he was a really good actor who would've waited til Matt fell asleep before stabbing him thirty-seven times and chopping him up to turn into Matt-soup? What if he was like one of the psycho murderers on T.V. who skinned their victims and tanned them to turn into coats or lampshade coverings-

"You think of yourself as a loser? …Wait, you think I'm attractive?"

Uhhhhh. Matthew Williams, eloquent as always. Didn't they already go over this? "Yes to both?"

"Well, you're only going to be able to say yes to the last bit. Because I'm a hero, and not only are heroes super hot and ripped," Alfred stuck a pose at that and Matt had to struggle to keep from bursting out laughing as Alfred continued. "We save people."

Matt turned sharply at his sudden serious change in tone. Alfred continued, oblivious. "Everyone deserves to have a chance to be saved, even if they don't think they're worth it. And you are worth it, Matt, everyone is worth something. Even if people don't think they need to be saved, it's still a hero's responsibility to back 'em up. 'Cuz sometimes even the best of us get tired of fighting alone."

...And what could Matt say to that? Matt wished he could be as innocently idealistic in things always working out. Alfred really was a big, darling, overgrown puppy dog. As it was, he didn't know what to say, because how could he just tell those big baby blue eyes that heroes couldn't save everyone?

Especially not people like Matt. He'd given up on anyone really being able to help long ago, but it was nice to have someone who cared nevertheless. He buried his face into Kumajiro.

"I. Um. You didn't answer my question about what you were doing here."

Alfred's mouth curved down slightly at Matt's admittedly poor attempt at misdirection, but didn't call him out on it.

"...Got lost." Alfred said, easily.

…Really. Really, now.

"Like, so I just came into Canada right? Booked a hotel and stuff. And I looked for ages trying to find it on the map, but look!" Alfred waved a crumpled map in front of Matt's face. "Nothing! Nada! So what can I do, apart from run around seeing if I could just stumble upon it?"

Matt took the map before realising the problem a split second later.

"This is a map of the U.S." he stated, flatly.

"Yeah, duh." Alfred was looking at Matt like Matt was the one being slow.

"We're in Canada. C – A – N – A – D – A."

Alfred's forehead scrunched up.

"Yeahhhhh. I can spell. But where is it?" He couldn't really be this dumb. Could he? He was super cute but even Matt had some standards, like being smarter than a five year old.

"It won't be on this map."

"Huh-Oh! So it's not a state?"

"No."

"Right, whoops, I have a map of all the American cities –"

Alfred gave a bark of laughter at Matt's 'Are-you-fucking-kidding-me' look.

"Oh, man, you're fucking adorable and I mean that in a good way." He smiled fondly as Matt's face decided to emulate an expression more typically associated with that of a deer caught in the headlights. "You're not the only one who can play up the 'I'm an innocent baby-face who doesn't understand what's going on' act. But I really am shit at geography, so you might want to help me find my way to the hotel I was looking for before I end up sleeping on the streets like a hobo."

Alfred was officially Matt's new favourite person. It wasn't everyday someone got one over him. Not after he'd publicly "came out", so to speak.

"Sure, I can help."

Matt smiled, and it met his eyes.

It was four hours later when Matt came back to his abandoned coffee mug that Matt realised he'd actually managed to forget about his package altogether because of a certain distracting blond who'd stolen away his morning before he knew it.

The package was still there in front of his door where he'd dropped it. Matt cradled it gently before setting it down onto his kitchen table. He stroked the plain brown packaging, before realising that he probably looked like an idiot. Then he realised he didn't really care, since he was so excited.

Ripping the packaging open, he beamed as he set eyes on his new chest binder. He'd been lucky so far in that sports bras had been enough to hide the fact he had boobs when Alfred had hugged him, but it wasn't that reliable. Humming as he got dressed and admiring how right he felt with his binder, he headed out as he mentally prepared himself for the shithole he knew would be the rest of his day.

Eh. Couldn't be that bad. Meeting Alfred cancelled out pretty much any shit that wasn't as bad as "everyone's dead, you're out of a job again and also the ghost evicted you because you're dead too."

Yeah, he thought as he sipped his cold coffee, today'll be alright.