Matt knew that being a superhero -- he prefers the term vigilante, but it's all a matter of semantics -- would have the potential to invite strangeness into his life. After all, the Avengers have aliens, the Fantastic Four has whatever-the-fuck they had, and Matt has...
An evil version of himself from an alternate universe.
He thinks he'd almost the aliens. There would be a lot fewer existential crises with aliens.
"I can't let you go," Matt says to his other self -- to Murdock. He has no billy club to back up his words, no Daredevil suit, but he knows he has to try. He can't let this-- this monster go. "I can't let you order any more kills in my city."
Matt can hear the slick slide of Murdock's lips as Murdock grins to himself.
"So I really am a bona fide good guy in this universe," Murdock murmurs. "Well. Almost good. Looks like that violent streak is a constant across universes."
And then Murdock is on him, vicious and feral as he moves like lightning across the empty parking garage. And maybe if Matt had his suit on he could take Murdock, but he's exhausted and worn from three days of trying to track down Murdock. Maybe that's why he loses their short scuffle.
Or maybe Murdock's just a better fighter than he is. Matt has to let the devil out to fight, but Murdock always has the devil out. He's always ready to draw blood.
"You can't be me," Matt begs, when Murdock pins his hands against the wall. "I could never be like you."
"But clearly you could," Murdock says, nodding his head to gesture at himself since his hands aren't free to do it. "No need to take it so personally. In this universe you dress up as a devil to play the guardian angel; in mine I play the devil on behalf of Fisk; and in some other universe, some other Matt Murdock can't even dream of what we can do. But this is this universe, at this moment. So we may as well savor it."
Murdock makes his point by actually kissing Matt, ruthlessly biting and forcing his way into Matt's mouth. Matt tries to bite him back, but the action only seems to spur Murdock on more, causes him to hum into Matt's mouth and nip hard enough to draw blood.
"Your universe is wrong," Matt spits out, when Murdock finally releases his lips with a wet sucking sound. "You are wrong. I don't care what happened to you where you're from, but nothing justifies this."
"Ah, but that's the difference between us: I don't need to justify this."
Matt's eyes slip close as he realizes: Murdock doesn't care. No, that's not it. If Murdock didn't care, then this action would be meaningless to him. But Murdock actually seems to revel in his own actions, swell up with smugness at having Matt under his thumb.
"You could've joined me," Murdock murmurs in his ear. He grinds down on Matt's hips with enough force for the action to be painful. "We could've made a great team. But this could still be fun."
Murdock grinds against Matt again, still holding him down, still biting and kissing him every chance he gets. Matt reaches out to stop Murdock, but when his hand splays out across Murdock's face, he finds-
"You're smiling," Matt whispers.
Murdock cocks his head to the side, like Matt's said something fascinating. "Well of course I am," Murdock says. "I'm having a good time. Aren't you?"
"No," Matt shudders.
Murdock snorts. "Clearly you're not having that bad a time," he says, placing a hand firmly on Matt's crotch.
Matt cries out, tries to fight back, but Murdock's grip and will are ironclad. Murdock palms Matt through his pants, and Matt screams, a half-pleasure half-pain shriek that rips itself out of his body. It's a physiological reaction. He knows this, he knows there's nothing for him to feel guilty of-
But Matt has always felt guilty, and he has always been taught that his body is something that he should be able to control, so he only sobs when Murdock grinds their hard cocks together. Murdock touches and kisses and thrusts their hips together until Matt is aching from it, until even Matt's whimpering has quieted into breathy gasps.
When Matt comes, he barely registers it -- it's a sensation he's disconnected from, that has no meaning or feeling. All he knows are the smells of sweat and come and blood that soak his and Murdock's skin. Murdock must come too, because of how pungent the smell is, but Matt can't actually remember it happening.
Murdock licks at Matt's bloody lip and sighs. "It's been a pleasure, Matt. Daredevil. If Foggy Nelson is alive in this universe, do give him my regards. But I think it's time I get back. I hate to think of all the work I've missed in my absence. You're a lawyer, you know how it is: justice never sleeps."
Murdock smears Matt's cheek with one more kiss before walking away, swinging his cane and humming as he does so. Matt listens to his footsteps fade away, and it isn't until long after that -- long after the come and sweat have dried on his skin -- that he starts moving. Starts walking away and hoping that the smells won't follow him in his escape.
Matt Murdock/Matt Murderdock noncon selfcest fill
Matt knew that being a superhero -- he prefers the term vigilante, but it's all a matter of semantics -- would have the potential to invite strangeness into his life. After all, the Avengers have aliens, the Fantastic Four has whatever-the-fuck they had, and Matt has...
An evil version of himself from an alternate universe.
He thinks he'd almost the aliens. There would be a lot fewer existential crises with aliens.
"I can't let you go," Matt says to his other self -- to Murdock. He has no billy club to back up his words, no Daredevil suit, but he knows he has to try. He can't let this-- this monster go. "I can't let you order any more kills in my city."
Matt can hear the slick slide of Murdock's lips as Murdock grins to himself.
"So I really am a bona fide good guy in this universe," Murdock murmurs. "Well. Almost good. Looks like that violent streak is a constant across universes."
And then Murdock is on him, vicious and feral as he moves like lightning across the empty parking garage. And maybe if Matt had his suit on he could take Murdock, but he's exhausted and worn from three days of trying to track down Murdock. Maybe that's why he loses their short scuffle.
Or maybe Murdock's just a better fighter than he is. Matt has to let the devil out to fight, but Murdock always has the devil out. He's always ready to draw blood.
"You can't be me," Matt begs, when Murdock pins his hands against the wall. "I could never be like you."
"But clearly you could," Murdock says, nodding his head to gesture at himself since his hands aren't free to do it. "No need to take it so personally. In this universe you dress up as a devil to play the guardian angel; in mine I play the devil on behalf of Fisk; and in some other universe, some other Matt Murdock can't even dream of what we can do. But this is this universe, at this moment. So we may as well savor it."
Murdock makes his point by actually kissing Matt, ruthlessly biting and forcing his way into Matt's mouth. Matt tries to bite him back, but the action only seems to spur Murdock on more, causes him to hum into Matt's mouth and nip hard enough to draw blood.
"Your universe is wrong," Matt spits out, when Murdock finally releases his lips with a wet sucking sound. "You are wrong. I don't care what happened to you where you're from, but nothing justifies this."
"Ah, but that's the difference between us: I don't need to justify this."
Matt's eyes slip close as he realizes: Murdock doesn't care. No, that's not it. If Murdock didn't care, then this action would be meaningless to him. But Murdock actually seems to revel in his own actions, swell up with smugness at having Matt under his thumb.
"You could've joined me," Murdock murmurs in his ear. He grinds down on Matt's hips with enough force for the action to be painful. "We could've made a great team. But this could still be fun."
Murdock grinds against Matt again, still holding him down, still biting and kissing him every chance he gets. Matt reaches out to stop Murdock, but when his hand splays out across Murdock's face, he finds-
"You're smiling," Matt whispers.
Murdock cocks his head to the side, like Matt's said something fascinating. "Well of course I am," Murdock says. "I'm having a good time. Aren't you?"
"No," Matt shudders.
Murdock snorts. "Clearly you're not having that bad a time," he says, placing a hand firmly on Matt's crotch.
Matt cries out, tries to fight back, but Murdock's grip and will are ironclad. Murdock palms Matt through his pants, and Matt screams, a half-pleasure half-pain shriek that rips itself out of his body. It's a physiological reaction. He knows this, he knows there's nothing for him to feel guilty of-
But Matt has always felt guilty, and he has always been taught that his body is something that he should be able to control, so he only sobs when Murdock grinds their hard cocks together. Murdock touches and kisses and thrusts their hips together until Matt is aching from it, until even Matt's whimpering has quieted into breathy gasps.
When Matt comes, he barely registers it -- it's a sensation he's disconnected from, that has no meaning or feeling. All he knows are the smells of sweat and come and blood that soak his and Murdock's skin. Murdock must come too, because of how pungent the smell is, but Matt can't actually remember it happening.
Murdock licks at Matt's bloody lip and sighs. "It's been a pleasure, Matt. Daredevil. If Foggy Nelson is alive in this universe, do give him my regards. But I think it's time I get back. I hate to think of all the work I've missed in my absence. You're a lawyer, you know how it is: justice never sleeps."
Murdock smears Matt's cheek with one more kiss before walking away, swinging his cane and humming as he does so. Matt listens to his footsteps fade away, and it isn't until long after that -- long after the come and sweat have dried on his skin -- that he starts moving. Starts walking away and hoping that the smells won't follow him in his escape.