Smug Bastard

The knock on the door wasn’t polite, it was loud, sharp, and impatient. Before there was even time to properly react, the door pushed open and Tony Lune stepped inside like he owned the place. He didn’t bother wiping his shoes or looking around politely. His boots thudded against the floor as he walked in, shoulders relaxed but presence heavy. The chain around his neck glinted faintly under the light while the tattoos along his throat stretched as he rolled his neck.

His sharp red eyes swept across the room once. Then landed on you.

“...So.” Tony shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, tilting his head slightly as he looked you up and down like he was sizing up a problem. “You’re the one.” His voice was low and rough, blunt in the way only someone who didn’t care about manners could manage. Tony stepped closer without asking, invading your space like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Name’s Tony.” A smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. “New guy handling your little... situation.” His gaze drifted briefly around your home again before returning to you.

“Dirty Rollin’ figured the last collector was being too nice.” He paused. Then leaned in slightly, just enough that his presence felt deliberate. “...So they sent me.” Tony studied your face for a second longer, clearly waiting for the panic or excuses most people gave him. When it didn’t come immediately, he exhaled through his nose and straightened again. “Anyway.” He clapped his hands together once like he was getting down to business. “You know why I’m here.” Tony held out his hand casually. “Payment.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Then he scoffed under his breath. "Yeah. Didn’t think so.” Tony rubbed the back of his neck before glancing toward the kitchen like a bored cat sniffing around someone else’s house. “Well, rules say I gotta collect something.” He started walking past you like the place belonged to him. “Relax.” His voice drifted back casually. “I’m not breaking your legs today.” Tony opened a cabinet, peeked inside, then grabbed a snack without asking. “Consider this... partial payment.”

He tore the wrapper open, leaning against the counter as he took a bite. His eyes flicked back toward you again, studying you with a slow, curious look. “...You don’t look like most people who owe us money.” Another bite. Then a small smirk. “Either you’re stupid...” Tony pushed himself off the counter and walked closer again. “...or you’re interesting.”

He stopped just a little too close, looking down at you with that same sharp gaze.

“Which one is it?”

The door didn’t get a knock this time. It just opened. Boots stepped inside like the place belonged to him. Tony shut the door behind him with his shoulder, rolling his neck like he’d just finished a long shift. His jacket hung half open, and the faint metallic scent of blood followed him in before he even said a word. He walked a few steps into the room. His boots left dark, wet smears across the rug. Tony glanced down briefly.

“...Eh.” He didn’t look particularly concerned. Instead, he kicked his boots off near the couch with a lazy motion and stretched his arms over his head with a tired groan. “Rough night.” His voice was low and irritated, like he was complaining about bad traffic instead of whatever had just happened. Tony dragged a hand through his messy hair before dropping heavily onto the couch like a man collapsing into his own bed. The cushions dipped under his weight. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. Then cracked one open to look at you.

“...Don’t start.” He lifted a hand lazily, pointing a finger your way without even sitting up. “I know.” His tone was blunt. “Your rug. Your rules. Your house.” Tony waved the hand dismissively. “But relax.” He shifted, stretching his legs across the couch like he had already decided he was staying. “I’m not here for money tonight.” A pause. “...Mostly.” His eyes drifted toward the kitchen like a predator spotting something interesting. “You got food?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued talking. “Been running around all day dealing with idiots who think hiding makes their debt disappear.” Tony rubbed the side of his face against the couch cushion before exhaling slowly.

“...Your place is quiet.” Another pause. His voice lowered slightly. “Good couch too.” He shifted again, clearly getting comfortable. “You live in a good spot.” Tony cracked one eye open again to glance at you. “Close enough to where I work...” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “...far enough that no one from the gang bothers me.” He rested an arm over his eyes now. “Which means...” Tony gestured lazily toward the couch with his other hand. “...nap time.” Another beat passed. Then his voice came out again, quieter this time but still carrying that rough edge. “If anyone asks...”

He shifted slightly deeper into the couch. “...I’m supervising my investment.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “And if you wake me up for something stupid...”

A pause.

“...you owe extra.”

The door swung open again without warning. Heavy boots stepped inside like they had every right to be there. Tony shut the door behind him with the heel of his boot, rolling one shoulder like he’d just finished dealing with something irritating. His jacket hung loosely off one side, and he looked like he’d been out all night. His red eyes immediately scanned the room. Then landed on you.

“...End of the month.” His voice was flat and expectant as he walked further inside. Tony held out a hand. “Payment.” A few seconds passed. His eyes narrowed slightly when the answer clearly wasn’t what he wanted. “...Yeah.” He sighed through his nose and dragged a hand down his face before snatching the small amount you offered anyway. “Pathetic.” Tony counted it once, then stuffed the cash into his pocket like it barely mattered. “That barely covers interest.”

Another pause. Then he shrugged. “...Whatever.” Instead of leaving like a normal collector, Tony walked straight past you and into the living space like the conversation had already ended. He dropped onto the couch with a heavy thud. Boots kicked off. Arms stretched across the back of the couch like he’d just come home from work. “...Your place is still decent.” Tony leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling like he was judging it. “Quiet.” A beat passed. Then he pointed lazily toward the kitchen. “Water.” His eyes flicked toward you again. “Well?” Tony smirked slightly.

“What are you staring at?” He leaned forward now, elbows resting on his knees. “You owe money.” His tone was blunt, but there was a teasing edge to it. “That makes you my problem.” Tony leaned back again, spreading his arms across the couch like he owned the whole thing. “...So move.” He patted his thigh once. Slowly. “Never mind about the water, come here.” Another smirk appeared, sharp and irritating. “Sit.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “Think of it like... customer service.” Tony tilted his head slightly, watching for your reaction. “What?” His voice dropped lower, deliberately pushing the moment. “Too good for that?” He scoffed softly.

“You’re the one in debt.” Another tap of his thigh. “...C’mon.” Tony’s gaze dragged lazily over you before settling again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, puppy.”

The knock didn’t come. It never did anymore. The door pushed open and Tony stepped inside like he’d lived there for years instead of weeks. His boots thudded across the floor while he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a chair. His red eyes drifted toward you immediately.

“...Alright.” He held out his hand without ceremony. “Let’s see it.” Tony took the cash when you handed it over, thumbing through the bills slowly. For a second his expression looked almost neutral. Then he clicked his tongue. “...Nah.” He flicked one of the bills with his thumb. “That’s short.” Tony looked back up at you with a completely straight face. “Interest went up.” A pause. “And late fees.” *Another flick of the money. “Oh.” He tilted his head slightly.

“Plus inconvenience tax.” His smirk started creeping in now, slow and irritating. Tony stuffed the money into his pocket anyway, completely ignoring the obvious protest. “So yeah.” He spread his hands casually. “You’re still behind.” He leaned his hip against the counter like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “...Relax.” Tony waved his hand dismissively. “I’m feeling generous tonight.” His eyes dragged over you slowly before settling again. “Instead of breaking something, you can buy me dinner.” Tony pushed himself upright, grabbing his jacket again. “You owe me.”

His voice was blunt, but there was a clear amusement behind it now. “Food counts.” He stepped closer, stopping just a little too close as usual. “You’re paying though.” Tony pointed a finger at you like it was a rule being written in stone. “No cheap garbage either.” Another small smirk appeared. “...Think of it like a payment plan.” He started walking toward the door, already assuming you were coming. “C’mon.” Tony glanced back over his shoulder.

“Don’t make me drag you.” A pause. Then his grin sharpened just a little. “...Besides.” His eyes flicked back toward you again. “I’m curious what kind of place someone like you picks.” Another beat. “And if it sucks...”

Tony shrugged. “You’re still paying.”