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ddk_mod ([personal profile] ddk_mod) wrote in [community profile] daredevilkink2015-06-22 07:24 pm
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Prompt Post #4

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Fill 2: Matt/Foggy - Baby Makin' Sex, What the Heart Wants

(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
(I went a very different route with this than you were probably expecting, OP, but as soon as I saw the prompt, this is what popped into my head.)

“Foggy,” Matt whispers urgently, pawing at his best friend’s back.

The other man grunts, his body jerking as he wakes. He turns over onto his other side and faces Matt, looking him over. Taking in the feverish look in his eyes, and the desperation, he sighs, “Again?”

“Yes,” Matt tells him, before begging fervently, “Foggy, please.

“All right,” Foggy says, reaching out to pat at his companion’s thigh soothingly. “All right, Matty. How do you want to do it this time?”

“I don’t care,” Matt replies. “It doesn’t matter.”

Inhaling slowly, Foggy asks, “Do you mind if I just lay here?”

“That’s fine. That’s perfect, just - let me -” He reaches down to stroke Foggy’s flaccid penis, before remembering the chaffing. “Sorry, I’ll get the lube.”

Foggy watches drowsily as Matt squirts a generous amount into this hand and then tries again, and this time, he feels a faint stirring of interest. His friend keeps at it until Foggy is fully erect, and then he lifts himself up and slides down with an ease born of far too much practice over the past few days.

It’s getting to the point where sex is just kind of this thing that they have to do, and Foggy mourns the time when he actively enjoyed and participated in sex, rather than this half-assed thing he has been reduced to doing whenever Matt gets that urge. Above him, Matt moves up and down relentlessly, chasing the one outcome that he will never be able to achieve, no matter how many times he tries.

---

His cell rings, and Foggy tells Marci, “Hold on a minute. I’ve got to take this.” He gets up from his seat at the bar - not Josie’s since Marci prefers places that aren’t one more bad review away from shutting down for good - and walks outside, wondering what Matt needs. He hopes it’s nothing serious, but he knows better than that. It’s late, and this is around the time when Matt goes out and finds some asses to kick. “What’s up, buddy?” he asks, making sure to sound cheerful for the benefit of anyone who might happen to be listening.

It’s the secrecy and the acting and the fear of what he might be covering up that bothers him the most.

Okay, no. It’s not. It’s the very real possibility that Matt will either kill someone or be killed, and Matt will have to find out on the news, because no one will think to tell Foggy until they take off Matt’s mask and someone IDs him as Foggy’s blind business partner and best friend.

”C-call Claire,” Foggy hears, and he swears.

“Yeah, you got it. Where are you, right now?”

Matt dutifully tells him where he is; he’s in an alley, because of course he is. Foggy has about a million nightmares about Matt in alleys, and now there’s this. He promises Matt that help is on the way, and then he hangs up and calls Claire, relaying the situation, as far as he knows it - which, admittedly, is not far - and then he heads back inside to apologize to Marci, shrugging back into his sports jacket. “I’m gonna have to cut this short.”

“It’s Murdock, isn’t it?” she asks archly. “Did he finally fall into one of those manholes you’re always worried about?”

Foggy grimaces. “He’s got vertigo,” he lies.

“He’s blind,” Marci states, her words flat.

“Tell that to his vestibular sense,” Foggy retorts tiredly. He’s starting to remember why they called it quits the first time.

“Whatever. I’ll talk to you later, Foggybear. Or maybe I won’t.”

With that lovely dismissal, Foggy leaves the bar and takes a cab to the street right before the alley Matt is in. He pays the driver and then gets out, walking until he finds his best friend, slumped over his knees where he sits against the wall of the alley. His eyes are glassy when he looks up, and his cheeks are flushed in what little light comes from the nearby streetlamp. His mouth is open and in the shape of an ‘o’, and Foggy thinks he might be panting.

“What happened?” Foggy demands anxiously as he strides over to his best friend.

Matt licks his lips, which, the way he looks right now, is slightly obscene. What is he saying? It always looks obscene when Matt licks his lips. It’s just worse at the moment. “Was fighting a witch,” he breathes. “Got me with a spell.”

“A witch? Magic is an actual thing, now?” Foggy shakes himself. “No, forget about that. We’ll deal with that later. What kind of spell did she hit you with?” His life is ridiculous.

Again with the lip-licking. “Don’t know.”

“Okay. Okay, we’ll figure this out, all right, buddy? We’re gonna make this okay.”

He really hopes they can make this okay.

---

“And there’s nothing you can do for him?” Foggy asks again, like maybe if he keeps asking, the answer will change.

“I am sorry, Foggy,” Dr. Strange apologizes. “Matthew will simply have to let the spell take its course. Anything else would do more harm than good. I wish I had better news.”

Let the spell take its course? It’s been ‘taking its course’ for the last twelve hours, with Matt climbing Foggy like a tree every hour, on the hour. Foggy’s lucky he could get Matt cleaned up and presentable long enough for Dr. Strange to appear and have this consultation.

This completely, utterly useless consultation.

“It’s fine, Doc. Any luck on finding the witch that did this?”

“Wanda and I are working on it,” the doctor assures him. “We will find her, and we will rectify the situation.”

That sounds ominous for the witch.

Good, Foggy thinks viciously. Someone needs to pay for what has been done to his best friend. And to him, however inadvertently. But mostly to Matt.

---

Claire gets there a few minutes later and helps Foggy get Matt back to his apartment, where she looks him over. “As far as I can tell, there’s nothing for me to treat,” she says, sounding frustrated and concerned. “Unless the fever gets too high, but that just means pain reliever and ice, which will treat one of the symptoms, but not the cause.”

“What do you think about what he keeps saying? About being empty?”

She shrugs helplessly. “He could be feeling depressed. He won’t eat anything, and water doesn’t seem to do anything but distract him a little and keep him hydrated, and while that’s good, it’s still not whatever it is he thinks he needs.”

“No,” Foggy says. “I’ve seen Matt depressed, and it isn’t like this.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know what to tell you, other than that I’m not qualified to deal with this. If Matt says he got cursed, then you need someone who actually knows something about magic that doesn’t come from a Harry Potter novel.”

“Yeah,” Foggy agrees. “You’re probably right. Thanks for trying anyway.”

She sighs and gives him a tired smile. “It’s what I do.”

---

“I need it,” Matt sobs, still leveraging himself up on his knees and then back down again at a frantic pace. Foggy’s hips will have bruises later. He can’t bring himself to care. “Please, Foggy, please, I need a baby. Your baby. Please.”

Foggy swallows thickly, feeling his own eyes prickle. “I know, Matty. I’d give it to you if I could.” He’s said a thousand similar things since this whole mess started, and he still means it every bit as much as he did the first time.

It still doesn’t help.

He twines their fingers together on the mattress and rubs his thumbs in circles over the backs of Matt’s hands, because he has to do something, and this is all that he has the energy for.

---

Foggy coaxes Matt to get up off of the couch and go to his bed. He lays there fitfully while Foggy goes through Matt’s contacts in his burner phone and finds the number for Dr. Strange, whom he has met a total of never up to this point. He places the call and says a little prayer when Dr. Strange picks up. (It still counts, even though he’s agnostic. He acknowledges that someone, somewhere, might be able to hear it. He also acknowledges that he may be sending his prayer out into the void, where no one will ever receive it.)

He introduces himself and then explains who he is to Matt and what is going on with his best friend. The doctor promises to look into the matter and tells him that he will projet himself for a consultation in the morning. Whatever that means.

They both hang up, and then Foggy hears his best friend moan his name, and he turns trepidatiously. “Foggy,” he pants again. “Foggy, I want to have your baby.”

“What?” Foggy asks hoarsely, unable to believe what he is hearing.

“You’d like that, right? You’d like to fill me up with your sperm and watch me grow with your child? Please, Foggy, I need you to do it so badly.”

It’s - the problem isn’t that what Matt is begging him for sounds horrible. It’s that, in another universe, where something like that could actually happen, Foggy would be completely, one hundred percent on board with that. It is entirely possible that he has entertained fantasies about that once or twice, before telling himself quite firmly to get a grip. He’s been doing so well ignoring his feelings for Matt since those first stumbling months at Columbia, but he can’t deny that the thought of being with Matt, of having a family with him that is entirely their own, is deeply appealing.

But what Matt is asking for just isn’t possible, and Foggy has to tell him that, feeling like a knife has been driven through his heart the whole time. Because even if it could happen, Matt would never ask for this under normal circumstances. Matt is straight, and he goes out at night and kicks the asses of Hell’s Kitchen’s criminals, and there is no way that the two of them making the beast with two backs and creating a new life inside Matt’s very male belly would jive with either of those things.

When he tries to explain all of this, though, Matt grows hysterical, and Foggy doesn’t know what to do.

Finally, after Matt is a crying, shaking, feverish mess, Foggy gives in and goes to look for something - anything - that can be used to smooth the way. He finds actual lube, which is perfect, and he brings it over to the bed before stripping out of his clothes and helping Matt remove his own, because that is something that he apparently finds challenging right now.

Matt is too worked up to allow Foggy to take his time and make sure that he is fully stretched, and Foggy knows that it will be fairly high on his list of regrets when this is all over, the way that Matt flinches and clenches his teeth, even though he is the one that dragged Foggy’s hips down roughly as he shoved his own up. He hates it when Matt is in pain, and he hates even more the idea that he has anything to do with Matt being in pain.

But most of all, he decides, after the third round two hours later, he hates the hopeful sound of Matt’s voice once Foggy has orgasmed inside of him and Matt says, “Maybe it will happen this time.” Because it is never going to happen, no matter how much he wants it, no matter how hard he tries.

---

On day five, Matt finally seems to be coming back to himself. He only asks Foggy to have sex with him once, and this time it is slow and careful, and Matt does not look frantic or flushed at all. Mostly, he looks broken, though by which part of the ordeal, Foggy cannot tell.

Matt doesn’t come, but Foggy doesn’t expect him to. He hasn’t done that for a while. But Foggy has. Every time. It may take him a little longer to get there, sometimes, but get there he does.

After, Matt collapses on Foggy’s chest and cries, and Foggy doesn’t know what it’s about, but there are so many things that it could be, and he hopes he is doing the right thing when he wraps his arms around his best friend’s back and holds him carefully.

He sniffles and swallows and generally sounds miserable, and Foggy almost does not catch it when he mumbles, “I lied.”

Foggy stiffens. “Excuse me?”

Matt shudders and confesses, “When you asked me if I knew what kind of spell it was? I lied. I told you that I didn’t know, but I did.”

“What the hell, Matt?” Foggy is tempted to push him away, but he still doesn’t want to hurt him, so he just stays very, very still. “We could have figured out a way to fix it if we’d known what it was.”

Matt shakes his head. “No. We couldn’t have. She told me there was no cure, and she wasn’t lying.”

“Okay, fine,” Foggy says, even though it absolutely is not. “That still doesn’t explain why a witch would curse you to want me to get you pregnant.”

“That wasn’t what the spell was supposed to do,” Matt tells him. “Or, at least, that isn’t what the spell is supposed to do for most people.”

“What does the spell do?” Foggy asks flatly.

Closing his eyes, Matt says, “It makes you chase after whatever you want most, but know you’ll never have.”

Foggy isn’t sure he heard that right. “So - you - I’m sorry, you lost me. What you want most is to carry my baby?”

His throat bobs. “I like babies, a lot, actually, but that’s not - I want - I want to be what you want. I want to be able to give you everything that Marci would be able to give you. I want to be able to make you happy. I want to be good enough.”

“Oh, Matt,” Foggy whispers. He’s still not happy that Matt lied - again - and they will absolutely be talking about that later, but there are some things that matter more, and this is one of them. “Listen to me,” he says gently. He waits until he knows he has Matt’s full and undivided attention. “You are good enough. You are so much more than good enough. And you do make me happy - most of the time. But nobody’s perfect, and nobody is happy with their significant other every minute of every day. My parents don’t agree on everything, and they’ve been married for thirty-five years. And as for Marci - we were never going to work out.”

“Why not?” Matt asks, sounding as though he is ready to be offended on Foggy’s behalf, which is sweet, but not necessary.

“She’s not you.”

Re: Fill 2: Matt/Foggy - Baby Makin' Sex, What the Heart Wants

(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 10:10 am (UTC)(link)
I absolutely LOVE your take on this prompt! This hurt my heart, in the best way possible.

Re: Fill 2: Matt/Foggy - Baby Makin' Sex, What the Heart Wants

(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.