daredevilkink | Prompt Post #4

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Prompt Post #4

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(a!a) Matt is a little self-conscious. Just a little.

Haha, I've heard people say that before! As I mentioned before, I have sensory processing disorder, so I'm veeeeery particular about everything from tastes to textures. I'm a huge tea snob and I figured the same might be true for AU!Matt who has gotten into yoga and beekeeping instead of vigilante crime-fighting. (Canonically, he's a beer snob, so there's that.) He might actually prefer white tea because its taste is so flowery and light.
(I have a lot of feelings about Matt Murdock's sensory issues. And a lot of feelings about tea, lol.)

A/N: And here's the final part! This was really, really fun to write, btw. Thanks to everyone who read and commented!

Enjoy!

***

Matt can sense Foggy turning his head to look out of the window, tries to imagine what he sees, whether there is anything in particular that grabs his attention.

„Can ... can you ... describe it for me?”, Matt asks before he can help himself. He bites his lip, even though it’s already too late. „The view, I mean. You’re looking out of the window, right?”
Foggy turns to look at him. „How can you tell?” He sounds more impressed than confused.

Realizing he has dug himself into a hole, Matt sighs and decides to go with honesty.
„I listened”, he explains, keeping his words as vague as possible. „I told you, I have certain ... abilities. They make up for not being able to see in some ways, but not in others. I can tell where you are and when you move, for example, but I can’t make out the details of your face. I know what’s going on inside this room, but I can’t see the sky.”

„That’s a shame”, Foggy states simply, surprisingly unfazed by Matt’s confession. „‘Cause it’s beautiful right now. Like, um, the sun has just set and ... there are clouds, the heavy, dark kind, and they are lit up by the remaining sunlight. They have, like, this dark red color, like rust - iron and rust, yeah, gray and red, and it’s ... it looks like they’re glowing.”

Matt smiles. „I remember that color.”

Foggy’s heart speeds up, heat rising in his neck and cheeks. „I can’t see much else, I’m afraid. The silhouettes of some trees. And some houses. It’s getting kinda dark out there. I can barely see your face from here.”

„Oh, I’m so sorry”, Matt says, reaching for his watch before he remembers that he took it off for training. „What time is it? Should I turn on the lights? Or do you want to go home?”
Foggy shifts uncomfortably in his chair. „Maybe I should get going, yeah.”

Matt wants to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s afraid it would come out as a come on.
No, wait. It would be a come on, because right now, he wants nothing more than to get up from this chair, pull Foggy from his, and drag the other man across the room towards the bed.
What Matt is afraid of is that it would come out as ‘God help me, I think I’m falling in love’ and that would ruin it, because it’s too fast, too soon, at this point it’s probably just hormones anyway, just loneliness and him being needy and selfish, so instead he says: „Okay.”

His legs feel a little weak when he scrambles to his feet and listens to Foggy do the same. Matt walks over to the wall, his hands searching for the light switch. On the other side of the room, Foggy flinches at the sudden brightness, but doesn’t comment on it. He’s quiet. Matt can hear him grind his teeth, like he wants to say something and it takes a lot of effort to keep his mouth shut.

Matt can relate as he leads Foggy down the stairs, taking in the other man’s heartbeat and scent like he won’t be thinking about them all night for days to come anyway. Just in case. He’s greedy and he knows it.

There’s a sudden drop in temperature when they both step outside. Matt can hear the rain over their heads, falling down rapidly. Can’t be more than a minute until it hits them. He reaches out, grabbing Foggy’s wrist. The other man’s pulse speeds up beneath his fingertips.
„Wait”, he says, and it comes out as a whisper.

Foggy stops dead in his tracks and turns around.

‘Let me get you my umbrella’, Matt wants to say, but before he has the chance, Foggy has pulled him into a gentle embrace. He lets his lips brush against Matt’s cheek, then slip down to the very corner of his mouth, almost, but not quite, a kiss. Just the ghost of it, a whisper. An offer.

Matt would have leaned in and captured Foggy’s lips with his own, accepting what he has been promised, but the sensation of Foggy’s soft skin, the just barely there stubble of his jaw, his fingers fanned out against Matt’s back, has him paralyzed. Completely stunned.

He stares, at least he thinks he does, and the world goes fuzzy around the edges, first from the sound of his own heartbeat drowning out almost every other sound as Foggy pulls away and steps back, clearly at least a little bit guilty, muttering something incomprehensible, and then from the cold rain engulfing them like a veil.

Matt can feel every single drop as it catches in his hair, rolls down his neck, his back, his shoulders and arms, each like a caress. He can sense the cool water on Foggy’s warm skin, can smell where it mingles with his sweat and the oils of his skin.

The rain douses the flames, turning everything into an impressionistic painting, details blending together in delicate brush strokes he can’t quite make sense of if he looks too closely.

Both men are soaked in seconds.

„I told you there was going to be a thunderstorm”, Matt hears himself say, followed by a dry laugh that is blends in with the roar of not too distant thunder. „I wanted to give you my umbrella, but I think it’s a bit late for that already.”
In this weather, Matt can’t get even a vague read on Foggy’s expression, but he’s pretty sure it’s a smile.

„Admit it, you let me get caught in the rain on purpose just to trap me in your house and get me out of these clothes”, Foggy quips as he moves closer again.
„Wouldn’t dream of it”, Matt lies. „But you can stay. If you want. I won’t try anything funny.”

„Is that a promise or a threat?”
Foggy is close enough that Matt can feel his breath brush against the side of his neck like electricity in the air. He shivers.
„What do you want it to be?”, he whispers coyly and Foggy kisses him hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

It’s clumsy. Messy, not only because the rain keeps dripping down their noses and cheeks, into their open mouths, sweet and clean. Foggy tastes like tea and lemon candy, but maybe that part is the storm around them, it’s hard to tell.

Matt doesn’t know what to do with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue, but he leans into the kiss like a drowning man clinging to a wooden plank. Foggy’s hands are in his hair, soft palms cupping his cheeks, and his own hands are in Foggy’s shirt, tugging at the fabric, holding on for dear life.

Their edges fade away, like colors bleeding into each other.

It’s desperate. Too much. Too fast.

It makes no sense.

It makes all the sense in the world.

It’s the best kiss Matt has ever had.

Foggy feels warm and right against him, a bright spot in the noisy darkness around them, and melting into his touch is as easy as giving in to gravity.
Matt smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around Foggy’s neck.

He’s standing in the pouring rain without an umbrella, but it feels like he is holding the sun.

(Author here) Ah but the soldier is like, a super soldier. There's science or magic there. And the legend that just overrides the weirdness. These are just two guys being weird in his cab. Like, creepily weird not just usual Avengers weird.

He does need a vacation though. Poor Omar.

Or Brett as the Mastermind could kinda work

Oh here it is. The beginning of the conversation. I think. I hope. Man I hope it's what you wanted. Also usually I have the other side of phone calls in italics for ease of reading but well, that's already taken. So Karen's side of the call is underlined as well.

Foggy's still floating high on Matt's amusement at his narrations of the scenery of their drive - ones that Matt could see contrasted with the reality of what he was seeing - when they bumble their way into Matt's apartment. He's throws himself onto Matt's couch, sure this might be the best place for a discussion. He hisses as Matt turns on the lights, the subtle change still enough to be annoying.

It's then he realises he has his eyes closed.

What the hell? He reviews the last few moments; he can see the clear path. Only... Memorycouch/nonewnoisesscents/pathclear/Foggymovingnearcouch Oh huh. That was weird.

You did it so fast too. Instantaccessnohesitation Another side effect?

Something a touch minor compared to vision Mattcanseeliartruenottrue though.

Matt finally makes his way from the doorway, flicking the lights off as he goes. Might as well save electricity; it's becoming very clear exactly how much they're going to share now.

Foggy still can't find any regret in himself.

He shuffles over so Matt can sit beside him. Beer?

No thanks. Foggy cringes as his movement causes his phone to tap his side and he remembers get Karen's call and promising Karenworrywillcallabrupthangup to call her back as soon as he knew what was happening with Matt. He turns his phone on.

There's a moment just after the phone finally loads that gives Foggy enough time to see the twenty three missed calls and over a hundred messages guiltworryohshit before his phone is ringing.

'FOGGY! I thought- I didn't know- What's happening? You said Matt was hit by some... some thing and you were getting help but it's been hours Foggy! Where are you? What's happened? How's Matt?'

Karen/friend/secrethider. What the hell did you tell her?

A lot more than I meant to panickedworried - Foggy's memory of answering the phone automatically while watching over Matt flashes between them - apparently. 'We're ah. At Matt's?'

'I'm coming over. Right now. I'll be there as soon-'

'NO!' Panic 'Karen, please no. Not now.'

Her voice instantly goes cold. 'Why not?'

Foggy sighs. Tell her enough hatelyinghurtssomuch but not everything. That's an in person conversation.

If you say so hatelyingwhymustIlie buddy. 'It's. Ah. Complicated. But what happened tonight... there were side effects. Matt and I... we need tonight Karen. To adjust. I promise I'll explain everything tomorrow but please, give us tonight.'

'It's nearly 5am Foggy.'

It is? Shit. Amusement/dawn?/obvious. Shutup/bestfriendwhy/annoyance. 'Today then. Give us today. Take the day off and tomorrow, I'll explain. We'll explain.' We'll explain. Oweher/truth/liar/betrayal/Karentruth

Fear/guilt/oweher/fearfearfear/danger/hurt/fear. Matt buries his head in his hands and Foggy reluctantly focuses his attention on the phone call. Soon damn it.

'Okay. Okay. I trust you Foggy. Please though... Is Matt really okay?

'I'm better than I was earlier, thanks to Foggy.' Matt pitches his voice so Karen can hear - her sigh of relief isn't audible to Foggy but Matt passes it along.

'Oh thank God. Okay. Tomorrow.'

She hangs up before Foggy can and Foggy just drops his phone onto the couch beside him. 'Urgh. Why did I call her?'

No idea.

'You're not going to talk aloud then buddy?' Curiousity/fear/suspsion You've accepted this weirdscaryMatt thing fast.

Not the first painoverload/whatshappeningtome/knowtoomuch/hurts time for me.

Pity/guilt/mistake. I forgot.

'We need a beer.' Matt rises and heads for the fridge before Foggy can muster any sort of reply.

'You really think alcohol will help this?' Resignment. No. Might help you relax Foggyfriendlyallovermehappy though.

'Yeah and give me stupid ideas. Li-'

'-ke the puzzle?' Cardboardedges/worldspinning/funjoyhappinessFoggy Okay, Matt really seemed to like these memories of drunk Foggy...

Darkness/laughter/whatthehell. 'Oh man, I'd forgotten that. What where we-'

Foggy doesn't need to complete the thought, let alone the sentence, for Matt to get it. 'We weren't. And we did manage it-'

'-eventually.' The memory of the completed puzzle, done upside down by two blind - one using a blindfold admittedly - law students brought a sense of achievement and annoyance to Foggy.

You never said it was the wrong way up. Why lie?

It didn't seem happyMattgreatsmile to matter.

Matt puts the beer back into the fridge and takes a seat in the chair across from Foggy with a sigh. 'We should. Talk.'

'Yeah.'

********

It's tempting to stay in the happy memories of law school. With this taste of one, Matt's so tempted to just encourage Foggy to relive some of the best memories of his life and ignore everything. It would be so much easier.

But it's not what Foggy wants. And Matt's done too much to him already to not give him what he wants right now.

Disbelief/confusion/guiltanger/MattMattMatt. Matt frowns at his friend, trying to comprehend the emotions/images/sensations he's getting. 'Foggy?'

'You're guilty for this.'

Myfault. 'If I had-'

Foggy does... does something and suddenly Matt feels like he's drowning in... in relief? No. Reassurance. You lied liarbetrayal and kept me in the dark - protectFoggysafecanhandleit - and that wasn't good. But you are not responsible for the actions of others. Noregret.

'But-' Matt's still trying to pick through the reassurance. How can Foggy be so forgiving? After everything? The memory of him leaving - painlossdeservethis/heartbeatfading flashes through his mind.

Oh man. Foggy bites his lip - Matt feels the motion and can taste/smell the blood when he breaks skin - and throws a memory at him. Betrayal/heartbreak/liar/liar/liar The dark haired man - Matt - looking half dead protecthelpliarlovehatewhy and tears stopcontinuemakehimhurtlikeheshurtingme on his cheeks and the need to just leave whatdolovehatelovelovelovefriend because if he stayed, he'd never leave spacetimemaybeliarbetrayalwhatwasreal.

Without thinking Matt throws his memory of that moment back at Foggy. PainfearneedFoggy Of the heartbeat that constantly beat too fast; the taste of tears Dadloveleftpleasestay; the acceptance Foggy was going Stickeveryoneleavesthoughtyoumightstay with the knowledge he was safernotformedontdeserveyoumonsterdevildevildevil better off and the realisation even if he could, Matt couldn't - wouldn't - make him stay betterwithoutmedeservebetterdevildevildevil.

Foggy throws his arms around Matt before the last of the memory has faded. 'Oh God.' Friendlovefriendlovedeservedeservefriendminelovewontleave

'I lied to you.' Why?

'And I'm still angry about that.' Matt. Because you're Matt. Dork/goodman/caring/mine 'But angry doesn't mean we're over.'

'But why would you stay?'

'How could I leave?' For better or worse. Partners/friends/mine

Matt tries to shake off the hug but Foggy tightens his arms. 'You're betrayed.' He throws every single emotion Foggy's felt about that back on him.

Foggy throws back a wave of FriendmineloveBESTFRIEND so thick Matt chokes. 'And we'll move forward. With honesty. And communication. All those cool things we really suck at.'

Amusement.

Yeah. Amusement.

"All those cool things we really suck at"

Awwwwwww!

OP here! (If my comments aren't obvious...)

What the hell? He reviews the last few moments; he can see the clear path. Only... Memorycouch/nonewnoisesscents/pathclear/Foggymovingnearcouch Oh huh. That was weird.
--- OOH FOGGY USING MATT'S SENSES YES OMG THIS IS AWESOME

Might help you relax Foggyfriendlyallovermehappy though.
--- AWWWWWWW

*cracks up at the upside-down puzzle* XDDD

It didn't seem happyMattgreatsmile to matter.
--- Omg, their mutually adoring emotional bleed-throughs, I love iiiiit. :D

Foggy does... does something and suddenly Matt feels like he's drowning in... in relief? No. Reassurance.
--- LOOK AT FOGGY, GETTING THE HANG OF THINGS LIKE A BOSS.

The dark haired man - Matt - looking half dead protecthelpliarlovehatewhy and tears stopcontinuemakehimhurtlikeheshurtingme on his cheeks and the need to just leave whatdolovehatelovelovelovefriend because if he stayed, he'd never leave spacetimemaybeliarbetrayalwhatwasreal.
--- *spontaneously combusts* ;_________; I love how they just give up on words and throw their sensory experiences of The Reveal at each other. ;_______;

safernotformedontdeserveyoumonsterdevildevildevil better off and the realisation even if he could, Matt couldn't - wouldn't - make him stay betterwithoutmedeservebetterdevildevildevil.
--- *cries forever*

Friendlovefriendlovedeservedeservefriendminelovewontleave
'I lied to you.' Why?
'And I'm still angry about that.' Matt. Because you're Matt. Dork/goodman/caring/mine
--- "mine" *FLAILS*

Foggy throws back a wave of FriendmineloveBESTFRIEND so thick Matt chokes.
--- FOGGY RULES YES AMEN

All those cool things we really suck at.
--- :DDD

*FLAILS* I LOVE THIIIIIS THANK YOU FOR BEING BORRRRN

oMG. As the anon who put up a prompt a while back on Matt and Foggy and kissing in the rain (or something along those lines), I am so fucking happy to see EXACTLY THAT in this installment. :DDD So cute! <3

(a!a) Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
I think I remember that prompt ... I'm a sucker for thunderstorms and kisses in the rain, and with Matt/Foggy, it's been on my mind for a while now. I think it would feel very intimate for Matt, because the rain messes with his senses and would probably make the world seem so much smaller than usual, if that makes sense? Anyway, it was fun to write.

Aaah! I am so glad this is complete! It's so good! I love the idea of Matt being a recluse writer and Foggy is so sweet! And the kissing in the rain! Great job :D

“You should call Daredevil and invite him to watch the movie with us.”

Foggy, in the middle of handing out individual bags of popcorn because when he tried to do a communal bowl there were pitched battles, freezes. He would roll his eyes if it was Natasha or Steve or even Sam, but it's Jim asking, so he turns to face him. “Why do you say that?”

“You've been on a few dates, right?” They did do another, Natasha-approved, and it got interrupted by the sound of sirens before Foggy had to figure out what to do at the end of the night. It turns out hanging out with Matt when they're calling it a date is different than hanging out with Matt normally. Maybe it's that they're tense and it's the only place they really talk about the superhero thing, but that's probably not the reason Foggy was half-expecting to get kissed at the end of the night. “He could come over, we keep trying to convince him to hang out with us and you might tip the balance. He can stay in costume.”

Natasha is watching with her eyebrows raised, and there's really no good reason to say no that doesn't involve explaining, so Foggy tosses her the remaining bags of popcorn. “You pass those out, leave one for me, and I'm going to call him.”

He's got the number for Matt's burner phone now, but he hasn't called it, so he's expecting the way Matt picks up and says, tight and tense, “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Hey, Daredevil, it's Foggy,” says Foggy. It feels ridiculous, but he's not going to be the one to out Matt. He's in his bedroom to make the call, but there are some sharp ears on the team, if not as sharp as Matt's. “Sorry to call you when you might be out, but I figured it's early enough in the evening that maybe you aren't out yet.”

“Why are you calling me—oh, are the Avengers there?”

“It's movie night! Do you want to climb through my window and hang out with me and the team? We're thinking a double feature, some old school James Bond.”

“I don't know if I should.”

“Show up in the costume. You'll be a little overdressed, but it would be nice if you could be here.”

“Are you sure that's wise?”

Probably not. He and Matt in combination are pretty bad at lying, and they're going to expect Matt to be a stranger in his apartment, not to mention a stranger with working eyes. Plus Natasha might expect them to act like they're dating and Foggy's not at all sure where the line is there yet. Matt needs a third identity so he can have that conversation with him. “It's got to happen sooner or later. Up to you what you do when you get here, though.”

“No, I won't do that to you. It's supposed to be a good night. I'll tell them who I am when you aren't around. Soon, but not tonight.”

“If you don't want to come, I'll tell them you're fighting crime or something, it's fine.”

“I'll come,” says Matt, and Foggy thinks it surprises them both. “Start without me, it may take half an hour or so, but save a seat for me.”

“Okay. Will do. Don't get in any fights on the way here.”

“I'll call if I do.”

“Great, comforting,” says Foggy, and hangs up to go back out to everyone else. About half of them look like they've been listening in and feel a little bad about it. The other half doesn't feel bad about it at all (Natasha) or just wasn't listening in (Jim and probably Sam). At least he knows Vision wasn't listening no purpose. “He's coming, he'll be here in about half an hour, but he says we should start the movie without him.”

Natasha looks smug. “I knew setting the two of you up was a good idea.”

“Yes, you're a genius. Where's my popcorn?” She tosses him back a bag. “Let's get the movie started, then.”

Foggy is pretty sure none of them pay much attention to the first part of the movie—well, except Vision, who's pretty fascinated by most movies, since he says absorbing information about them isn't quite the same as watching them in real time—and he's relieved when there's a gentle knock on the door and he can go over to let Matt in like Matt couldn't just climb through. He's wearing the costume, and it's even more ridiculous when the rest of them are in jeans, but Foggy decides not to bring that up. “Foggy. Thank you for calling,” says Matt while Foggy helps him through the window.

“Glad you could come. You know everyone, right? Come on in, find a place to sit down, I'll give you the nickel tour later. There's not much to see.”

“I imagine not,” says Matt, because he thinks he's funny, and then looks over Foggy's shoulder. He can probably sense everyone's body heat. “Hello, everyone. Thank you for inviting me.”

There's a general chorus of greeting over the sound of an explosion, and Foggy touches Matt's arm. “Want popcorn?”

“No, thank you. I never liked it much. It tastes like Styrofoam.”

“Yeah, but Styrofoam with butter and salt,” Foggy says, like they haven't had this argument a dozen times, but he goes back to his chair anyway, since this is his apartment and he made it clear that the superheroes can fight over the seating all they like but he gets the most comfortable seat.

Matt, of course, presents a problem. Normally Matt gets the couch because he likes curling up on it, but Steve and Sam and Natasha took the couch tonight, and Jim is in a pulled-up kitchen chair, and Wanda and Vision are on the floor. Foggy's about to open his mouth to try to figure out something , but Matt puts a hand on his arm. “You just sit down. I can take the floor.”

“You don't have to.”

“It's fine, Foggy.”

Foggy isn't going to argue with him with everyone watching, so he sits down in the chair and tries not to freeze up too much when Matt sits on the floor right where he can lean against Foggy's left leg. Matt must feel it anyway, because he gets a gentle grip on Foggy's socked foot and squeezes, a reassurance.

“All settled?” says Steve, grinning at them like the asshole he is. “Good. I'll take the movie off pause.”

It's not like Foggy and Matt watch a lot of movies, especially not these days when Foggy has to take the time he can get with Matt and doesn't want to spend it staring at a screen. It's still weird to have Matt sitting right there, in his terrible costume with the devil horns, and not keep up a running commentary on the movie, telling him everything that's going on.

Matt's pretty obviously not engaged with the movie, as a result, and his weight gets heavier and heavier against Foggy's leg as the movie goes on, like he's falling asleep despite the gunshots and explosions that keep showing up on the screen. If Matt wasn't wearing the stupid hood thing, Foggy would play with his hair, since his head is right there, but he rests his hand on the back of Matt's neck instead, massaging a little through the material, and he's surprised when Matt relaxes even more, moving until he can rest his head on Foggy's thigh.

He's out cold by the end of the second movie, and the Avengers seem pretty happy about it when it's over and they start picking up to go. “I'll call you tomorrow,” Natasha mouths, first one out the window, and everyone leaves after her in a ragtag group, though Vision makes a token effort at collecting everyone's cups and popcorn bags before he goes.

Foggy taps Matt on the shoulder as soon as they're all out the door. “So, how much of that was pretending to be asleep?”

Matt's voice is gravelly when he answers. “Only the last few minutes, once they all started moving around and whispering. I'm sorry, if I made them be more quiet than usual.”

Foggy shrugs. “Not your problem. It's not like I could tell them movies aren't really your style unless I can give you the rundown on what's happening. They all seemed pretty happy you were here, though.”

“They were talking about us in the street, a little. They said they're glad you're happy now, and that I seem better too.”

Matt is still leaning on his leg, and Foggy starts feeling awkward about it. “I mean, good that we're both happy, but you know that I was doing okay before, right? I wasn't hiding some sort of deep sadness or whatever.”

“I should have spent more time with you without all of this, Natasha said you seemed lonely when she set us up.”

“Crap, Matt. Did I feel a little abandoned because you were going out to fight crime instead of hanging out? Yes. Not your fault, though.”

“A little my fault.” Matt grabs his foot again. “Sam asked if she was sure it was a good idea to set us up.”

“Oh?”

Matt swallows and pulls away, moving around until he's facing Foggy, still sitting on the floor. After a second, he shakes his head and pulls the hood off too, so it's hanging off the back of the costume and Foggy is just looking at Matt. “To set us up when you're trying to get over someone, he said.”

Foggy tips his head back against the back of the chair, and then he stands up even though it puts his knees practically in Matt's face, because he can't be siting down for this. “Natasha decided I was pining.”

“For who?”

Matt sounds curious and a little hurt, and he scrambles to his feet too, when Foggy paces a few steps away. “Want to rephrase that so I can evade it without lying, please?”

“Foggy—”

“Come on, you owe me that.”

“I don't think there's a way I could rephrase it that you would like, and I'm still curious.” He gestures at his costume. “Just because I do this now doesn't mean I don't care about your life. Is it Marci? Karen?”

“No.”

“Natasha said ...” Matt looks down and away, fingers twitching like he wants to reach for his glasses. “When she was convincing me to go on the date, she said that anyone who wouldn't want you if you wanted them is an idiot.”

“Well, that's true and you know it. I'm a catch.”

“I'm not disputing that. I'm just asking if I'm an idiot, Foggy.”

Foggy opens his mouth and closes it and tries to figure out what he can possibly say that won't give it away, make everything horrible and uncomfortable and make Matt even more apologetic than he already is about the Daredevil thing. “You're definitely an idiot.”

Matt steps forward, and Foggy has been trying so hard not to lie and give the game away, but he's observant, and so is Matt. He knows when he's lost. “Am I an idiot about this?”

Even Foggy can hear the way his heart speeds up, and that's it. Matt's got to be able to tell. The last secret Foggy somehow, by some miracle, managed to keep even in the wake of discovering he's got zero privacy, is out. “I mean, depends on whether you take Natasha's word as law or not, I guess. I definitely have a crush on Meryl Streep and she's not an idiot, she just doesn't know me.”

And Matt beams like he does when they win a case or when Foggy says something funny. “I know you.”

“I am aware of that, actually,” Foggy says, or starts saying, because Matt is suddenly in his space and cutting him off with a kiss. The angle's a little weird, the kiss landing mostly on Foggy's upper lip until Matt corrects, hands coming up, one to Foggy's shoulder and one against his face. The fabric of the costume is a lot softer than he thought it would be, and Matt is kissing him like he doesn't want to stop. Foggy doesn't either, but he does anyway, ignoring the pitiful noise Matt makes and the way he changes tactics to press his face into the curve of Foggy's shoulder. “Okay, so I'm the idiot.”

“Never,” says Matt, and kisses him again. That lasts for a while, long enough that Foggy hears a text come in on his phone, one of the Avengers letting him know they're home and didn't get into any fights on the way, which he insists on. “I can't stay tonight, I don't have clothes for work here, but I want to be sure … I'm not assuming things, am I? You wanted me before Natasha set us up like this.”

“I've wanted you for actual years, Murdock,” Foggy says, because he may as well be honest, and it gets him a kiss, so he's not going to regret it. He ends up breaking the kiss laughing, though, and doesn't manage to stop until Matt makes an impatient noise and flicks his shoulder. “I'm just trying to decide if she's going to be really smug or really annoyed when she finally figures out who you are.”

Matt laughs. Foggy doesn't get to hear that as often as he likes, these days, and he's glad for the up-close opportunity to bask in it a little. “I guess we'll just have to see,” he says, and kisses Foggy again, grinning enough that it's clumsy and they have to pull away and just rest their foreheads together until they can stop smiling.

*

Oh my gosh, they are the cutest cute idiots in the history of EVER!! ♥♥♥

(a!a) Thank you so much!
I have to admit, I was tempted to turn this into a 50k slow-burn fluff-and-angst fest, but I wasn't sure I'd finish that and I wanted this to be complete.

*throws hearts and glitter*

This entire fic is literal perfection.

Please tell me more is coming soon!

I love everything about this dynamic!

Matt needs a third identity so he can have that conversation with him.
--- Bwahahahaha. XD

he's relieved when there's a gentle knock on the door and he can go over to let Matt in like Matt couldn't just climb through. [...] while Foggy helps him through the window.
--- Wait, why does Matt knock at the door but climb in through the window? XD

“Sam asked if she was sure it was a good idea to set us up.” [...]
“To set us up when you're trying to get over someone, he said.”
--- OHHHH SNAP

“Want to rephrase that so I can evade it without lying, please?”
--- Ahahahahaha

“When she was convincing me to go on the date, she said that anyone who wouldn't want you if you wanted them is an idiot.”
“Well, that's true and you know it. I'm a catch.”
“I'm not disputing that. I'm just asking if I'm an idiot, Foggy.”
--- OOOOOH VERY NICE. Also, I'm curious if Natasha already suspects, or knows and did this on purpose... XD

“Okay, so I'm the idiot.”
--- *snort* No, you're BOTH idiots about feelings.

Wait, why does Matt knock at the door but climb in through the window? XD

Oh lord, because author anon is an IDIOT who does not proofread her chapters close enough before she posts them, clearly! Thank you, anon, I have now fixed it so it will be correct in the reposted version.

And thank you for this comment in general, I am beaming.

:D Glad to help!

Thank you for writing this! It had me beaming! As someone who has written both a Foggy-befriends-Avengers fic AND a Foggy-dates-Daredevil fic, your story was 1000% up my alley. :D

Here! Have some plot! Also some Claire!
Matt’s newest revelation didn’t change many things between him and Foggy. Casual meals and movies worked their ways into both of their schedules (a bit literally on Foggy’s end, as sometimes lunch appointments started making themselves in his planner before his eyes, with ink that smelled slightly of sulfur and hurt his eyes to look at for too long), conversation between them flowed easily, and Foggy continued to take none of Matt’s bullshit.

What was different however was how Matt would sometimes let slip the tiniest details about his work into their banter; a crashed server, a missed memo, a (literal) firing. Nothing huge, but it was fouling up his perfect record of keeping work separate from pleasure. None of this was on purpose, mind you, but there was this one mutinous part of Matt that was chomping at the bit to get Foggy angry enough to lash out at him.

Matt liked to think that this was his own morbid curiosity, as he knew rationally that revealing some of the gorier parts of his everyday life would ruin their relationship, and also because it’s easier to dismiss impulses if you don’t think about the very real want behind them. Still, some things are better left alone.

However, Matt failed to account for Foggy’s own curiosity, which was almost a force of nature by itself. Truth is, Foggy was burning to figure out what Matt did with his days. Every off-handed comment just drove him a bit closer to throwing caution to the wind and asking, but he always abstained.

Until one night, about a year into their arrangement, this urge came to a peak and in a fit of wisdom fueled by salty, greasy Chinese food, Foggy finally asked, “So what do you even do all day when you’re not here?”

Matt paused in his chewing, before swallowing and replying, “Excuse me?”

“Like, what’s your day job? Every time you’re here I always end up blabbering about what I’m doing and who can blame me for wanting to know what’s going on downstairs?”

Matt was not ready to have this conversation. Matt was never, in any way, ever going to be able to prepare for this conversation. Still, Matt would rather avoid having to come clean about this later, so poking at his meal he slowly answered, “I guess you could say I oversee all demonic activity. Who is stationed where, relations with other… parties, which humans are under Contracts, which humans we’d like under Contracts, that sort of thing.” Matt took a bite of Mu Shu pork for emphasis, trying to squash down the niggling feeling that accompanied lying to Foggy, even if it was only by omission.

Foggy stared across his coffee table at Matt, lips set in a firm line. “…that can’t be all.”

Matt tilted his head in a way that he had been told looked disarming. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t fall from Grace or whatever to become the regional manager at McDemons Inc.” Matt heard the swishing of Foggy’s chopsticks through the air. “What do you really do? I’m waving my chopsticks at you threateningly, FYI.”

“Oh no, not that,” Matt drawled, “Anything but tiny, little bamboo sticks. What am I to do?”

“Hmmm, answer my question honestly and I’ll consider mercy.” The tone was light, but it was obvious that the human wanted answers.

Matt chuckled, half to cover up his nerves. However even after that, Foggy’s expectant silence continued until Matt folded like a cheap suit.

“I… deal out retribution to sinners.”

“You got that off the back of a cereal box, didn’t you?”

“You lost me.”

“That was totally an answer for the press!” Foggy set down his take out box and leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Com on Matt, I know you’ve got this whole moral code that is apparently set in stone and a reputation for both a dislike of humans and an affinity for fire, brimstone and eternal torture, but cut the crap.”

“Foggy-“

“Let me finish please, and then the stage is all yours, buddy. Point is, I’m under no illusion of who I am talking to. I’ve heard the flowery verses about punishment and sinners, if not from you, then from a million other sources. And now that I know you, maybe not as well as I’d think but still, I think there’s more to that answer than I know.”

“…” Silence sat heavy in the room. Matt had halted all movement, his expression troubled. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut after a few seconds. His face grew paler by the second, but his cheeks and ears started flaring a brilliant red. Foggy kept his eyes trained on him, not a detail escaping his sight. Finally, Foggy came to a conclusion.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, should I?” Foggy’s sheepish voice made Matt’s shoulders sag with relief.

“Probably not,” he muttered.

“Want to tap out of this conversation?” Under the table, Foggy nudged Matt’s bare foot with his own. “It’s totally fine if you do.”

“Yes, please. Sorry.” With each syllable, Matt’s shoulders inched up towards his ears, making Foggy frown. Was Matt really that ashamed?

“Totally my fault.” Foggy said, a thoughtful look still on his face. “I should’ve known my boundaries. You want to leave? I promise not to ask anything too intrusive if you don’t.”

It took Matt a while to answer. “I’ll… I’ll stay.” Matt’s posture remained ridged enough to make Foggy want to crack his own back in sympathy. He had to do something to fix this.

“Awesome. Now, I’ve got to tell you about this new client of ours. Her name’s Ms. Cárdenas, total sweetheart, but doesn’t speak a lot of English…”

Foggy didn’t comment on the fact that he saw Matt relax into the couch as he continued to talk, figuring that saying anything about it would make the other uncomfortable. Neither of them noticed their feet resting against each other’s under the coffee table.

—

“Mr. Nelson?” Karen’s voice made Foggy look up from his computer and look at the blond peeking into his office.

“Yes, Miss Page?” His grin was apparent in his voice; they both hated being called anything but their given names. They must have a visitor.

Karen didn’t smile back, which was odd; almost immediately Foggy’s face dropped. Her eyes seemed a bit too distant for his liking. “What is it?”

“There’s a Ms. Temple here to see you.”

Foggy frowned, he couldn’t place the name. “Send her in please.” Karen nodded before slipping back into the main room. The woman that strode in after her was all business. There was not a hair out of place from her neat pony tail to her ironed slacks and sensible flats. Her eyes were quick and relentless in running over the office, mercilessly chasing out every detail she could find and pinning it down.

Foggy knew exactly what he was dealing with immediately.

“Are you one of Matt’s people?”

The woman hummed, eyes sliding to Foggy, pretending to notice him for the first time. “I am.”

Foggy leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you…?”

The woman smiled, slow and slick like an oil spill. “Clair Temple will do. Now, I have a simple favor to ask of you.”

Foggy’s eyebrows lifted. “Isn’t the whole idea of dealing with demons that you do something for me?”

Ms. Temple snorted, a grimace on her face. “If that’s your idea of how to get a soul onto your side, then yes.” She pinned Foggy with another look, “And you could have done so much more with a soul like that.”

Foggy would be lying if he said he wasn’t unsettled. “And you know this how?”

The flat look he received was impressive. “Gusion,” Ms. Temple deadpanned, “if you’re up-to-date on your demonology that name might help you.”

Foggy nodded absently as he scribbled the name down on a handy Post-it note. “I’ll be sure to look that up. Now, what can I do for you.”

“First off, go to Ms. Cárdenas’s apartment tomorrow early.” She help up a hand when Foggy opened his mouth to question, “Just do it, for all of our sake’s. Secondly…”

It’s hard to explain what exactly happened next. On this plane, Ms. Temple reached across Foggy’s desk and placed two fingertips against Foggy’s forehead, who suddenly found it much harder to move. Foggy felt a shiver of something roll over his entire body but before he could question it, the contact was gone and Ms. Temple was brushing some imaginary dust off of her slacks.

On another plane however, a hole in the shape of a human soul suddenly took up residence in one of its dustier corners, invisible to this other plane’s inhabitants.

In Hell, Matt paused in his movements over a soul he had strung out over the rack. Something with his contract with Foggy had shifted. He concentrated a bit harder on the feeling.

Ah, just Gusion making the necessary preparations. She always was good at that.

Back on Earth, Foggy blinked. “You going to tell me what that was about?”

“No,” Ms. Temple said flippantly, “It’ll be more entertaining for me if I don’t.” Foggy sighed, of course she wouldn’t. The demon continued, “I’ll see myself out. Miss Page won’t remember me coming, and the charm she’s under won’t last much longer. An hour tops.”

Foggy frowned, “That can’t be kosher.” Ms. Temple shrugged, already headed out the door. “Pleasure meeting you,” she called over her shoulder.

And just like that, Foggy was alone again.

When asked about the incident later, Matt had just shrugged, which was innocent enough until Foggy noted that his ears were red enough to stop traffic. Really, Foggy grumped to himself, Matt had no right going about being that bad at lying; it was embarrassing. Cute, sure, but that wasn’t the point. Mostly it was embarrassing.

My heart can't handle this much cuteness. I love this fic so much.

omg, matt, just TELL HIM; it will be all right!

also i love demon!claire and i would pay cash money to see her and demon!marci in the same room. :D

Author here. Your comments are a highlight of my morning/afternoon/whatever the hell time you call it when you get up. =D

First time consciously realising he's doing it. Next step - consciously doing it. =D

That came to me one morning and I giggled for a half hour. They were totally drunk, decided to do that puzzle Foggy had found and it was totally logical for Foggy to wear a blindfold to do it so it was fair to Matt. They did it by feel and upside down. It was hilarious. =D

Thanks! It's not dawned on either of them that hey, this feeling of love I have for you is basically what you're sending back. And I know mine isn't quite friendship love. Oh right.

Matt has it mostly down pat, though he's not been (and will not be) able to stop the leaking through of strong emotions/feelings/thoughts but Foggy is catching up.

Words are too unreliable for that experience - as evidenced by that experience. It seemed simpler.

Sorry, didn't mean to make you cry (much).

Foggy does rule. He is awesome.

*Blushes* Thank you! I love you for this prompt and all your support- it's making writing this go so much easier and quicker. =D Your comments mean a lot!

Oh Matt, what are you up to?

Ahahaha, I may or may not be kicking that idea around. (Kidding. I drafted the first three paragraphs. *Guilty cough*)

That's what I love most about this ship. They're going to hit rough patches, but they will always pull through it, and usually better off for it. :)

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Page 185 of 209

Prompt Post #4

Re: [Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 3a/4

[Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 4/4

Re: Fill: Clear and Honest Communication [Interlude]

Re: Leverage AU

Fill: Clear and Honest Communication 4/?

Re: Fill: Clear and Honest Communication 4/?

Re: Fill: Clear and Honest Communication 4/?

Re: [Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 4/4

Re: [Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 4/4

Re: [Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 4/4

[FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: [Fill] A Sudden Burst Of Sunlight (& Me With My Umbrella) , 4/4

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: Fisk/Matt/Vanessa - Mistaken betrayal 3

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Applied Contract Law, 5/?

Re: [FILL] Any Possible Similarity (6/7)

Re: Applied Contract Law, 5/?

Re: Fill: Clear and Honest Communication 4/?

Re: Applied Contract Law, 5/?

Re: Stick V. Nelson-Murdock (End)