There's a tentative count for how many more parts this has- I planned out the rest of the fic to have another five 'chapters' (not including this one) plus an epilogue to make 11 parts (plus the interlude). Subject to change on my whims. I have many whims. Hope you like this!
Matt finally sags into the hug, a sense of contentment slipping into his mind. Foggy adds to it instinctively, barely aware of doing so, just wanting to get the sheer self hatred he'd felt out of his friend. Who the hell broke his Matt so much that he honestly believes Foggy is better off without him?
Surprise/lying?/notlying/what? Well that's descriptive. Thanks Matt.
Foggy tightens his hug, ignoring how his knees are starting to hurt from his position on the floor. Friend/mine/good/honest Matt-
Matt shakes his head. 'Foggy-' Foggy, '-I can't. I... Foggy.' Foggy. Flashes of Foggy, as Matt perceives him, flash over from Matt. A kind voice; steady hand; friendship; equals; kind; heartbeat; coconut/bagel/cheese; FoggygoodminebestfriendFoggy. Matt pushes Foggy back for a moment, then drops to the floor before him, so Foggy isn't reaching up. I can't. Please Foggy. It's too much.
Okay. Foggy can work with this. Too much now. But he's got a long time - the rest of their lives - to deal with this. He'll wait.
'Foggy-'
Time to change the plan of attack. Give up the battle, win the war.
What?
Foggy grimaces as years of watching war documentaries with his father flashes through his mind. Boredupsetscaredbored. They weren't his thing but he picked up a few details.
'I'm a battle?' Matt sounds - no is- amused by the thought. Foggy reluctantly rises because he really does need to change his tactics.
'Oh man, first day and you're already stuffing up the mind reading. I compared battling your-' Foggy waves a general hand, '-issues, to a war not a battle. Scale.'
Matt rises too, somehow not sore. How even? Control. Training. No fake cheese. 'I'm glad my 'issues' are of such great concern to you.'
He's being sarcastic. He'll learn. My cheese balls are the best - a flash of eating the snack, cheesy goodness dissolving on his tongue- and you know it. 'You are welcome.'
Is that how they taste to you? Matt sends chemicalprocesseddisgust over and Foggy gags.
You better keep your taste buds to yourself please! He moves into the kitchen, desperate for a glass of water to wash away that awfulickyhowthehelldoyoustandit taste from his mouth and memory. A flicker of sunlight catches his attention and Foggy checks his watch. Oh joy it's six. Morning. They've been awake all night - God it's only been twelve hours since this nightmare began - and not so much as a catnap of rest.
Suddenly all Foggy can feel is the tiredness pulling at his limbs. Matt yawns. Foggy yawns. They yawn together.
'Foggy?' Matt mutters drowsily. 'You have the-' another yawn, triggering Foggy's which in turn triggers another unison yawn, '-bed. I'll take the couch.'
But Foggy isn't having that. InjureddyingsickMatt 'Nope. You'll be in that bed or I'm not sleeping.'
Matt smirks and Foggy barely has time to process before a wave of tiredness runs through him, nearly causing him to fall where he stands. But Matt's miscalculated. It flows back at him and Foggy is woken from his half sleep by Matt's butt hitting the floor as he does fall over.
You're more tired awakelongerdyingsickdying than I am. Foggy manages to make his way to Matt and get an arm under his. He pulls his friend to his feet. Amusement/Imright/fondness. Come on Buddy.
Stubborn. Bed. Foggy.
Compromise/tired/movingurgh. Share? Foggy all but throws Matt at his bed and tries to get his jacket off. It's putting up quite the fight.
Share. Matt's thoughts go gentle and soft. Foggy wins the battle with the jacket and throws himself at the bed.
Just in time; Matt's mind pulls at his and sleep claims Foggy too.
********
Matt's warm. It's kinda nice. He snuggles into the warmth, vaguely aware of something - someone - happy and content beside him. Very content actually; they're half awake with a warm body in their arms who is happy to be there. It's always good to start the morning making someone else happ-
Wait, what. Who the hell is in his bed?
Matt snaps all his senses into focus and opens his eyes unnecessarily as he hears a gasp from the man holding him. Foggy. What?
'Dude that was really freaky.' Matt catches a flash of an image of him - him, he knows what he looks like now - opening his eyes at the same time Foggy does and the events of last night coming speeding back to him.
And Foggy. 'Oh man.' He groans and rolls over, taking away the warmth. The nice warmth.
There's a long pause, then Foggy rolls back over. Warmthniceagreement. He moves his arms back into position, though he makes sure Matt isn't pressed against him. Mattseyes/nice/comfortablewithme/likeseeingthem.
For a long moment they stew in the silence of each other's thoughts. Matt finally has to break it. 'Time?'
Foggy glances at his clock. 'Just after four. We got a lot of sleep Buddy.' He shuffles. 'Seems like you needed it.'
Matt glares in hi...no, at him. He knows where Foggy is now, as instinctively as he knows where every inch of his body is. 'You tricked me.'
There's no apology in Foggy. Pleasure/happiness/healthlyMatt 'Just get used to it.'
It is at that moment, their stomachs growl. In unison. Huh. Still kinda cool. With a groan Matt pulls himself out of bed Reluctance/warm/comfort/Foggy and heads for the bathroom. The second he crosses the threshold, he feels/hears Foggy start to scream out a song in his head. It drowns out Matt's thoughts - and Foggy's ability to sense Matt's actions. Clever. Though Defying Gravity, really?
They swap and Matt heads for his kitchen.
Food/hunger/me?. It takes a moment for Matt to realise what Foggy's offering.
Food/hunger/ME Matt runs through his fridge's contents, sniffing to see what's best to be used and picking through ideas for meals. There's not many he can make with what he has. Breakfast or nothing Foggy.
Agreement. Breakfast is brilliant. Foggy's actions aren't bothering Matt; he's heard far worse from total strangers. Which NoshareNO isn't something he thinks about Yousharedhateyoujerk usually.
Flattered and a tiny bit apologetic, Matt grabs the eggs, milk and flour. He leaves the eggs for Foggy and starts mixing pancakes. Foggy drifts in, and Matt catches the sight of his kitchen through blinking eyes.
Then Foggy closes them. Guide me.
Guide yourself. For a moment Foggy pauses, then something pushes at Matt's mind - more of a push than he's felt since this began - and his sense of Foggy greatly increases. So does Foggy's sense of Matt, if his thoughts are any indicator.
Foggy grabs an egg and cracks it against the pan, throwing the shell at the bin without looking, tracking it with Matt's hearing and sense of smell. It lands perfectly. They smile. Matt finishes mixing the pancake mix, pacing the kitchen as he does. Foggy is always a step ahead of him - or with him - and never in the way as he cooks their eggs and they drift around the kitchen as if dancing. By the time they're done, the pancake mix is ready and Matt steals bites of his eggs - cooked to perfection - as he cooks them.
The sound Foggy makes when Matt first takes a bite of his eggs is nearly pornographic. This Godgoodperfectionwhateven is how things taste to you?
Only the good notchemicalhomecookedloved things.
Fine. Share your whatevenbestmealever taste buds sometimes.
Matt smiles and flips the final pancake, throwing a previously cooked one at Foggy. He tracks its path.
Foggy catches it, despite sitting side on to it. Matt hears/feels the movement of his head as he turns to look at Matt, finally opening his eyes so Matt can see his own smile. Handy
Agreement. Matt takes a bite of one of his pancakes and Foggy makes another low moan. Hateyouloveyoukeepeatingholyshitsogood
Fill: Clear and Honest Communication 5/11(?)
Matt finally sags into the hug, a sense of contentment slipping into his mind. Foggy adds to it instinctively, barely aware of doing so, just wanting to get the sheer self hatred he'd felt out of his friend. Who the hell broke his Matt so much that he honestly believes Foggy is better off without him?
Surprise/lying?/notlying/what? Well that's descriptive. Thanks Matt.
Foggy tightens his hug, ignoring how his knees are starting to hurt from his position on the floor. Friend/mine/good/honest Matt-
Matt shakes his head. 'Foggy-' Foggy, '-I can't. I... Foggy.' Foggy. Flashes of Foggy, as Matt perceives him, flash over from Matt. A kind voice; steady hand; friendship; equals; kind; heartbeat; coconut/bagel/cheese; FoggygoodminebestfriendFoggy. Matt pushes Foggy back for a moment, then drops to the floor before him, so Foggy isn't reaching up. I can't. Please Foggy. It's too much.
Okay. Foggy can work with this. Too much now. But he's got a long time - the rest of their lives - to deal with this. He'll wait.
'Foggy-'
Time to change the plan of attack. Give up the battle, win the war.
What?
Foggy grimaces as years of watching war documentaries with his father flashes through his mind. Boredupsetscaredbored. They weren't his thing but he picked up a few details.
'I'm a battle?' Matt sounds - no is- amused by the thought. Foggy reluctantly rises because he really does need to change his tactics.
'Oh man, first day and you're already stuffing up the mind reading. I compared battling your-' Foggy waves a general hand, '-issues, to a war not a battle. Scale.'
Matt rises too, somehow not sore. How even? Control. Training. No fake cheese. 'I'm glad my 'issues' are of such great concern to you.'
He's being sarcastic. He'll learn. My cheese balls are the best - a flash of eating the snack, cheesy goodness dissolving on his tongue- and you know it. 'You are welcome.'
Is that how they taste to you? Matt sends chemicalprocesseddisgust over and Foggy gags.
You better keep your taste buds to yourself please! He moves into the kitchen, desperate for a glass of water to wash away that awfulickyhowthehelldoyoustandit taste from his mouth and memory. A flicker of sunlight catches his attention and Foggy checks his watch. Oh joy it's six. Morning. They've been awake all night - God it's only been twelve hours since this nightmare began - and not so much as a catnap of rest.
Suddenly all Foggy can feel is the tiredness pulling at his limbs. Matt yawns. Foggy yawns. They yawn together.
'Foggy?' Matt mutters drowsily. 'You have the-' another yawn, triggering Foggy's which in turn triggers another unison yawn, '-bed. I'll take the couch.'
But Foggy isn't having that. InjureddyingsickMatt 'Nope. You'll be in that bed or I'm not sleeping.'
Matt smirks and Foggy barely has time to process before a wave of tiredness runs through him, nearly causing him to fall where he stands. But Matt's miscalculated. It flows back at him and Foggy is woken from his half sleep by Matt's butt hitting the floor as he does fall over.
You're more tired awakelongerdyingsickdying than I am. Foggy manages to make his way to Matt and get an arm under his. He pulls his friend to his feet. Amusement/Imright/fondness. Come on Buddy.
Stubborn. Bed. Foggy.
Compromise/tired/movingurgh. Share? Foggy all but throws Matt at his bed and tries to get his jacket off. It's putting up quite the fight.
Share. Matt's thoughts go gentle and soft. Foggy wins the battle with the jacket and throws himself at the bed.
Just in time; Matt's mind pulls at his and sleep claims Foggy too.
********
Matt's warm. It's kinda nice. He snuggles into the warmth, vaguely aware of something - someone - happy and content beside him. Very content actually; they're half awake with a warm body in their arms who is happy to be there. It's always good to start the morning making someone else happ-
Wait, what. Who the hell is in his bed?
Matt snaps all his senses into focus and opens his eyes unnecessarily as he hears a gasp from the man holding him. Foggy. What?
'Dude that was really freaky.' Matt catches a flash of an image of him - him, he knows what he looks like now - opening his eyes at the same time Foggy does and the events of last night coming speeding back to him.
And Foggy. 'Oh man.' He groans and rolls over, taking away the warmth. The nice warmth.
There's a long pause, then Foggy rolls back over. Warmthniceagreement. He moves his arms back into position, though he makes sure Matt isn't pressed against him. Mattseyes/nice/comfortablewithme/likeseeingthem.
For a long moment they stew in the silence of each other's thoughts. Matt finally has to break it. 'Time?'
Foggy glances at his clock. 'Just after four. We got a lot of sleep Buddy.' He shuffles. 'Seems like you needed it.'
Matt glares in hi...no, at him. He knows where Foggy is now, as instinctively as he knows where every inch of his body is. 'You tricked me.'
There's no apology in Foggy. Pleasure/happiness/healthlyMatt 'Just get used to it.'
It is at that moment, their stomachs growl. In unison. Huh. Still kinda cool. With a groan Matt pulls himself out of bed Reluctance/warm/comfort/Foggy and heads for the bathroom. The second he crosses the threshold, he feels/hears Foggy start to scream out a song in his head. It drowns out Matt's thoughts - and Foggy's ability to sense Matt's actions. Clever. Though Defying Gravity, really?
They swap and Matt heads for his kitchen.
Food/hunger/me?. It takes a moment for Matt to realise what Foggy's offering.
Food/hunger/ME Matt runs through his fridge's contents, sniffing to see what's best to be used and picking through ideas for meals. There's not many he can make with what he has. Breakfast or nothing Foggy.
Agreement. Breakfast is brilliant. Foggy's actions aren't bothering Matt; he's heard far worse from total strangers. Which NoshareNO isn't something he thinks about Yousharedhateyoujerk usually.
Eggs/pancakes. Your choice.
Both? Hope/Mattscooking/tastebest/oweme/oversharer
Flattered and a tiny bit apologetic, Matt grabs the eggs, milk and flour. He leaves the eggs for Foggy and starts mixing pancakes. Foggy drifts in, and Matt catches the sight of his kitchen through blinking eyes.
Then Foggy closes them. Guide me.
Guide yourself. For a moment Foggy pauses, then something pushes at Matt's mind - more of a push than he's felt since this began - and his sense of Foggy greatly increases. So does Foggy's sense of Matt, if his thoughts are any indicator.
Foggy grabs an egg and cracks it against the pan, throwing the shell at the bin without looking, tracking it with Matt's hearing and sense of smell. It lands perfectly. They smile. Matt finishes mixing the pancake mix, pacing the kitchen as he does. Foggy is always a step ahead of him - or with him - and never in the way as he cooks their eggs and they drift around the kitchen as if dancing. By the time they're done, the pancake mix is ready and Matt steals bites of his eggs - cooked to perfection - as he cooks them.
The sound Foggy makes when Matt first takes a bite of his eggs is nearly pornographic. This Godgoodperfectionwhateven is how things taste to you?
Only the good notchemicalhomecookedloved things.
Fine. Share your whatevenbestmealever taste buds sometimes.
Matt smiles and flips the final pancake, throwing a previously cooked one at Foggy. He tracks its path.
Foggy catches it, despite sitting side on to it. Matt hears/feels the movement of his head as he turns to look at Matt, finally opening his eyes so Matt can see his own smile. Handy
Agreement. Matt takes a bite of one of his pancakes and Foggy makes another low moan. Hateyouloveyoukeepeatingholyshitsogood
This might make up for everything.