Daredevil Prompt Post #8

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FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6a/?]

[(Anonymous)]

The collar, it turns out, also brings with it some more problems than just making other people behave like dicks.

“Okay. So these are my underpants, and these are your underpants…” a week has passed and Foggy is trying to sort both of their (meagre) belongings as he’s packing them for college, and Matt is in his room (as always) and not able to be much help.

“Can you get me the shampoo sitting on the table?” Foggy asks, more because he wants Matt to feel useful than because he is too lazy to do it himself. “It’s sitting at the front, in the middle.”

“On it,” Matt says, raising himself from where he has been sitting on the bed, and walking over to grab it from the desk. As he moves, something that Foggy has been noticing for a while catches his eye again.

“Is something wrong with your neck?”

“Hm? No, I’m fine,” Matt replies, because that seems to be an automatic reaction from him, and Foggy gives him an unimpressed look, that (sadly) is of course totally wasted on him.

“Uh-huh. That’s why you’re keeping your neck straight as a board and avoid turning your head when you move your body. Let me see,” he says, already moving over. Matt has frozen, looking like a deer in the headlights as Foggy nears him, but he doesn’t resist when Foggy puts a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to have a closer look at Matt’s bare throat and neck.

And then almost rears backwards.

“…Matt! You’re bleeding.”

“Yes.”

“’Yes’? ‘Yes’?! ‘Yes’ isn’t the answer to that question, Matt,” Foggy wants to wail, because why is any of this happening to him, and Matt is just looking into his general direction, his expression a slight frown.

“What you said…wasn’t a question,” he points out, a bit consternated, and Foggy only groans, because of course he would say that.

“Matt. Take that collar off, now.”

“I can’t,” Matt replies, swallowing. “It’s locked. The key is with my ownership papers.”

Which prompts a wild hunt through all of the documents Foggy had painstakingly assembled for transport to college, until he has found the damn contract his mother had given him last week, and which had been crumpled all the way underneath everything else. But it does have a metal key taped to it, looking just as scratched and busted as the old collar around Matt’s neck, which Foggy carefully extracts.

“Okay,” he says, voice, for his credit, almost calm again now. “Lift your head and let me take that…thing off you.”

Again, Matt obeys, and Foggy tries to be as careful as possible as he inserts the key, twists it, and then gingerly removes the collar. Underneath Matt’s skin is angry, red and irritated, exhibiting a rash-like look and small open, oozing sores at irregular intervals. Foggy winces and hopes none of them are infected yet.

“Fuck,” he says, quietly.

“Not looking great?” Matt ventures (and at least that’s progress, a slightly hysterical voice in Foggy’s head reminds him, that Matt doesn’t straight jump to the conclusion that he’s somehow defective, when Foggy voices how badly cut-up he is).

“No. No, Matt, it doesn’t. Why didn’t you say anything?” Foggy moans. “I swear, I have aged twenty years during the last seven days,” he sighs, as he gets out – again – the first aid kit, the salves and the bandages. “Sit down, hold your head up, and hold still. What kind of sicko even made you wear that thing?”

“It’s a standard government collar,” Matt says, once again eerily not flinching even when Foggy does his best to disinfect and clean the irritated ring of red skin around Matt’s throat. “They’re made to be durable, not comfortable.”

“Yeah, well, I’m now drawing on three months experience from when I was trying to flirt with this girl into anarchist bands back in tenth grade, and I’m saying ‘Fuck the government’,” Foggy says with conviction. “You’re not wearing that thing again.”

Matt huffs out a small laugh of amusement. “I’m legally required to, Foggy. You can’t take me out of the house without a collar.”

“Says who,” Foggy argues back. “I mean, what if you simply went out without one, who would even know you’re a slave?”

Matt begins to shrug, but Foggy slaps his shoulders back down. “Uh-uh. Hold still.”

Matt freezes for a moment, and Foggy realizes with a slight jolt that this is technically the first time he’s ‘hit’ Matt because he’s done something wrong. Fortunately, Matt seems to realize that Foggy meant it as a friendly reminder, not as a punishment, and he relaxes again. “Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat, sounding slightly awkward.

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, trying to let his voice sound calm and non-chalant. “So you were saying, about going out without a collar…?”

“Ah. Yeah, no, people wouldn’t be able to see right away, that’s true. But the moment anyone asked to see my ID for something, and I wouldn’t have either a citizen ID card, or a collar with an ID chip, I’d be taken in by the police. And uncollared pets are pretty much taken in and…auctioned off.”

“Oh. Right,” Foggy says, lips thinning as he works. He is now wrapping the bandage around Matt’s throat, giving him a soft, white collar instead of the grey, cruel metal one. The metal one still holds the ID chip Matt has spoken of, a small thumbnail thing that would display his registration number, name of his owner, and county of holding if held in front of a police chip reader. “Can we get you a different collar? One that doesn’t hurt?”

“Sure. I think pretty much anything that isn’t metal or too tight will be fine,” Matt says. “Most of them will have a holding space for the chip, too. That’s the one thing that separates them from dog collars,” he adds wryly, and Foggy nods.

“Do you have a preference for anything? Favourite colour or something?”

Matt, however, doesn’t actually smile or snort at that like Foggy had hoped. Instead, he only replies quietly “It’s a collar, Foggy. I’m pretty much bound to hate it whatever it looks or feels like,” and Foggy, uncomfortable, drops the topic in favour of returning to packing for college.

Xxx

It was probably somewhere around the third or fourth night in the house that Matt has started slipping out of bed when Foggy’s asleep.

It’s not that he’s trying to escape – he’s not, he’s tried in the past, and he’s been recaptured each time, because escaping without a valid citizen ID is near impossible – but rather that he feels like he needs time to…think. Thinking around Foggy during the day is kind of hard, he’s found, since the man not only won’t shut up, but also expects Matt to contribute, earnestly asking for his opinion on half a dozen topics before breakfast, and still cracking the awful jokes that still make Matt laugh each time.

(The first time he made one back, Foggy was so pleased he smacked Matt on his back, which immediately of course resulted in a wince and a horrified avalanche of apologies from Foggy - which, to be honest, kind of made Matt laugh harder.)

No, concentrating around Foggy is hard. Especially since everything about his stay here is still so puzzling – Matt is kind of suspecting now that Foggy probably won’t start making use of him as a bed warmer until they’re at Columbia, which is either due to the fact that he wants to wait until Matt is fully healed, or that he’d feel weird having sex with his parents next door, or likely some combination of both. But while he isn’t looking forward to being fucked again, it’s become at least a less terrifying scenario in his head for the past few days – Foggy handles him gently, and Foggy likes hearing him laugh of all things; in bed, Matt thinks, Foggy might actually also take care that it wouldn’t be too painful, maybe even go slow and careful enough that Matt could still pretend to like it, if Foggy liked seeing him smile.

Now, during the second week he sneaks down the stairway soundlessly, less because he’s genuinely afraid to wake anyone up and more because he wants to see if he still can – and yup, seems like his muscles remember Stick’s training just fine – and relaxes when he’s in the familiar territory of the kitchen, the noise of the refrigerator and dishwasher, as well as the smells of three dozen foodstuffs painting a brightly burning picture of his surroundings for him. This is another weird feeling, too – the fact that he is close to food, real food, but has little to zero desire to eat anything, simply because he’s still feeling far too full from dinner. He can’t recall ever having met a slave who wouldn’t jump at the chance to stuff themselves if they were able to roam the house at night freely like he is.

But staying at the Nelsons hardly feels like being a slave at all. Oh, the collar around his neck (even if temporarily replaced by a bandage for now) won’t let him forget it, to be sure, but – no one in this place beats him, or even works him very hard; Mrs Nelson has him carry things occasionally, or makes him help her in the kitchen, or puts him to work folding clothes, but even that only when Foggy isn’t around. Matt hasn’t told Foggy about it, mostly because he knows that it hardly ever pays for a slave to go behind the back of one family member who owns you to go crying to another, but also because he honestly doesn’t mind – he likes being useful, it gives him something to do other than to feel completely at sea, and it’s not like the work is hard or uncomfortable. It’s usually when Foggy has gone to work himself, putting in the last few hours at the butchery he helps out in, before they’ll be heading to Columbia. Matt thinks he’s probably barely earning his keep here, especially because they feed him actual food instead of slave kibble. But despite that, neither of Foggy’s parents seem to treat him with hostility, like some working free people do when they come face to face with slaves who are basically pets, kept around without actually being very productive.

Matt had never wanted to be a pet, but somehow, being Foggy’s is so far less bad than expected.

xxx

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6a/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Great chapter. Love it. I love how Matt answers about the collar.

FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

p>xxx

“Matt? Buddy?” Matt’s head goes up as Foggy enters the room, back from a trip to the mall he took on his own this time, and there’s still remnants of that familiar snap-to-attention reflex whenever Foggy says his name, as if he was always bracing himself for an order or a blow.

Matt has been mostly staying in Foggy’s room, despite Foggy telling him he was free to go wherever he wanted, only leaving when Foggy dragged him to meal times or on a walk around the neighbourhood after it was dark, the day Matt’s cane was delivered. The one walk they took during daylight the day after their trip to the mall had…only gone equally as well as their day at the mall.

“Hello, Foggy. Welcome back,” Matt says, but it’s said with a mild, hesitant smile, as if Matt actually was a bit happy that Foggy’s returned, and didn’t just say it because he’s been trained to.

Yeah, right, the cynical voice in Foggy’s head says, as if a slave would ever be happy that the person who can order them around is back.

“Haven’t gotten bored, have ya?” Foggy asks instead, carefully putting the bag he’s been carrying on the bed. Matt is sitting pretty much where Foggy left him this morning, on the floor next to the bed, leaning against the covers. Foggy had pressed the remote control for both the radio and the TV into his hands before he left, explained what the buttons did, and then excused himself to run ‘errands’.

(“I’d ask if you wanted to come with, but…” he’d said, but Matt had given him the usual tightly-wound smile, ducking his head in the already familiar way.

“But you can’t take me out without a collar, and you don’t want me to wear it until my neck’s healed again,” he had finished Foggy’s sentence, white bandage around his throat constricting as he swallowed. “I understand.”

“That, and I don’t think you had much fun last time we went shopping,” Foggy admits with a grimace. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what a-holes people could be.”

Matt shrugs. “It happens. Once you’ve been out a few times with a collar you get used to it.”)

“No,” Matt shakes his head. “I like having a bit of downtime.”

“Right. Well, I bought something for you.”

“Again?” Matt tilts his head at Foggy. It’s not that easy to tell with the dark glasses but he seems a bit confused.

“Um. Yeah,” Foggy says and now he actually feels a bit embarrassed. “It’s ah…uh, here. It’s a new collar.”

“…ah. Of course. The skin underneath the bandage should be healed now. Thank you,” Matt replies, but it’s a stiff tone again, and he tilts his head toward the ground. For a moment he looks more like a regular slave, slumped at Foggy’s feet, and Foggy instinctively grits his teeth.

“It’s…here. Have a feel.” He takes the item out of the bag and presses it against the back of Matt’s hand. A brief frown passes across his slave’s face, but he does take the proffered collar obediently. As his fingers wrap around it, the frown deepens.

“It’s very thin,” Matt says. “And very long.”

“Yup,” Foggy says. “It’s also made from genuine leather and it’s red. Uh, sorry about the garish colour. I, er, also got from the female slaves’ section, because the male models were all really sturdy, but I figured, what you really needed was a collar wide enough and thin enough that you could wear it under your shirt so no one would be able to see it. You know. So you wouldn’t actually be breaking the law, but also people won’t be treating you like you’re not a person,” Foggy says, and he can hear himself babbling a little now, because Matt is staring off into space even more than usual, feeling the collar between his fingers and not showing any emotion at all on his face. “Do you, uh, like it? I mean, duh, dumb question, of course you probably won’t really like that stupid thing they’re making you wear, but-“

“You…” Matt interrupts him, then, voice hoarse and he seems a little out of it, because he doesn’t even apologize for it like he usually does. “You…got me a collar specifically so I would be able to pretend…to be a free man?”

“Well, yeah,” Foggy shrugs helplessly. “After that disaster of a shopping trip it seemed like the thing to do.”

And then he almost flinches backwards, because all at once, Matt has pitched himself forward onto his knees and grabbed Foggy’s legs.

“Thank you,” he says and it’s raw, and helpless, and Foggy SO doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Woah, woah, that’s okay, dude. Here, come on up, please.” Foggy reaches down to grab Matt by his upper arms, pulling him to his feet because he is so uncomfortable with him clinging to his legs, pressing his face into his thigh like a damn illustration from the colonies.

A slave may nuzzle you in an attempt to thank you, or offer sexual favours. It is up to you to either reward or curb that behaviour as you see fit.

“You don’t…seriously, I’m glad you like it, but if you want to thank me, a hug will do just fine!” Foggy tries, carefully not adding Just please don’t act like a dog. “I like hugging. Big hugger here. Let’s hug it all out, okay?”

His voice is pitched just slightly higher than usual, and he’s unsure of how to hold Matt without aggravating the injuries on his back. He settles for keeping his hands on the other man’s shoulders, holding him in a light grip that he hopes doesn’t come off either as threatening or possessive.

“You want me to…hug you? As thanks?” Matt asks, voice somewhere between thick with near-crying, and genuine, simple disbelief.

“If you want to,” Foggy says, shrugging, thinking maybe the motion will transmit through his hands on Matt’s shoulders, even if he can’t see it. “Like, seriously, you don’t have to do anything. But if you want to do something…well, friends generally hug, yeah. Or bake muffins? One or the other. I don’t know whether you can bake, but-“

Matt hugs him, hard.

The next morning, it turns out he also (hesitantly, nervously as she tells Foggy later) asked Foggy’s mother for permission to use the kitchen to bake muffins, and the way they taste Foggy fears if he’s going to take Matt with him to Columbia, he’s going to put on the freshman fifteen again, and this time they’ll have brought friends.

Xxx

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Aww, that's so sweet. LOve that Foggy is being so good to him and that Matt is feeling better. :) LOveing this little series.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

eyup. Firmly on the fluff side here during the festive season. XD Hope you like the new part, too!

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

I'm not one for Slave fics usually, but I'm loving this.
“I like hugging. Big hugger here. Let’s hug it all out, okay?” Is it bad that that's my favourite line of the chapter?

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Not at all! :D I had to ponder a little bit how Foggy would react to that situation, so I'm happy his reaction is welcomed.^^

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Ohh Matt.

I loved seeing him sneaking around the house in the dark, just to prove to himself that he could. And his thoughts on not being tempted by the food in the kitchen were very revealing.

But he can't even conceptualise Foggy not fucking him at some point can he? Let alone the idea that it might be good for him, the best he's hoping for is gentle enough that he can smile through it and hide his pain to please Foggy - that's all sorts of heartbreaking.

His musings on being a pet were nice too - because Foggy hasn't given him much idea of what he wants from him?

I loved the reposted bits about the collar, and the image of Matt kneeling, face pressed to Foggy's thigh is beautiful.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6b/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Oh wow, thanks for that lovely comment! :D :D :D

And yeah, Matt is doing good practicing his sneaking because he's going to need it later in this fic ;) The food is an important aspect, too - Matt's slightly undernourished atm, since he had trouble eating enough of the slave kibble without throwing up, but he's getting healthier and stronger fast now. And nope, right at this moment he really cant conceptualize that Foggy isn't bringing him along for his 'benefits' - I'd say Matt even has trouble thinking that an owner could *ever* show affection without sexualizing it in some fashion, so Foggy's behaviour for him makes more sense as a sort of elaborate foreplay. There might be a surprise or two in store for him. :p

Glad you liked the reposted bits, too, most of this is going to be a mix of old and new^^

FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Have a festive update! :D

xxx

Xxx

Their second shopping trip…goes much better.

It turns out, as soon as Matt isn’t wearing a visible collar any more, people are basically falling over themselves to help them, going from ‘The changing rooms are over here, sir, would you like some help?’ to ‘This shirt is a very nice, light grey, which means it should go with almost anything!’

Foggy thinks he could almost feel insulted by how this time it’s him being ignored in favour of his handsome, wounded-duck companion, but Matt is genuinely smiling at the end of the day, so Foggy thinks he can probably live with that.

The last stop Foggy takes them to is not a clothing store.

“Oh…Foggy, no, it’s fine, I don’t need a new pair – it’s not like I use them to see through, anyway,” Matt tries, as soon as he understands where they are, but Foggy has already gently ushered them into the shop.

“Hello. My friend is looking for a new pair of sunglasses,” Foggy flags an assistant down. “Also, he clearly needs them because he is so blind he won’t notice his old ones are falling apart,” he adds, and then immediately feels terrible, because what the hell, you can’t just say that, Nelson, now he’s gonna think you think he is defective all over again and - ! He is about to apologize when Matt turns his head to the young sales rep heading over to them and nods.

“Very true, sadly. On the bright side, I save on not needing prescription glasses,” which startles the young woman into a laugh, and the conversation turns to the various available models.

“How do you like these?” The assistant asks Matt after handing him another pair. “The lenses are very dark, but they also have a reddish tinge to them. I think they’d go great with your hair.”

“Hmm. Yes, I like them. They feel nice,” Matt says after running his fingers along the round frames and then putting them on. “What do you think?” he asks, turning to Foggy with a shy smile.

“Yes. Very. Very nice,” Foggy says, sounding slightly strangled, because for some reason his vocabulary seems to have abruptly fled to Canada at the sight of happy!Matt with shiny new glasses. “We’ll uh, we’ll take them.”

“They’ll go great with my other red accessories, too,” Matt adds glibly, and Foggy is so surprised at the inside joke that he actually has to suppress a very unattractive chortle.

“I’m, er, sorry about the blind quip, by the way. That was probably out of line,” he says when they leave the store, on their way home with bags dangling from their arms. Next to him, Matt shakes his head.

“No, I thought it was funny. Back when I was…” he abruptly stops himself, then clears his throat and starts the sentence again. “When I was younger, people used to dance around me like I was made of glass. I hated that.”

Huh. Maybe not always a slave, then. Foggy wonders whether he should dig a little deeper here, but ultimately refrains. If Matt wants to, he’ll tell him.

“Well, good to hear you developing a sense of humour over the atrocious collar I bought you, at least.” He replies instead, trying to go for a wry tone. “Contrary to that thing, the glasses actually do suit you, though.”

“What? I wasn’t joking,” Matt defends himself, “I actually have a serious thing for red leather, I swear.”

“Great. My mom bought me a kinkster, that will be something to thank her for on mother’s day,” Foggy mutters, and then it takes them all of five seconds to helplessly burst out laughing.

Afterwards, when they sit outside the mall, on the same bench they sat on as they left the last time, Foggy describes the people passing by as they wait for the bus back, describes the sunset and what he has read about Columbia, and Matt smiles at him as he does.

And maybe, just maybe, Foggy starts hoping that he may have gotten a roommate to be friends with after all.

xxx

“What are you going to tell people about me?”

Matt is sitting on his new bed in their new college dorm room, and listening to Foggy unpack his things. Foggy only briefly glances over his shoulder at the question.

“I don’t think I’ll need to tell them anything, buddy. Pretty sure the co-eds’ll soon be forming a line to ask you stuff themselves.”

“No, I mean…what I’m doing in your dorm. I know you’re trying to help me pass as a free man,” Matt says, briefly rolling his thin collar between two fingers, “But I’m here to be your study aid and house slave. I’ll be attending lectures, but I won’t be attending seminars or taking exams, so it’ll be obvious I’m not here as a student. What are you going to tell people I’m doing in your room?”

“Oh. Uh.” Foggy blinks at this Very Obvious Question. Then his eyes abruptly narrow.

“Wait. I think I may have a brilliant idea.”

Xxx

“You want to enrol your slave for a…law degree?” the woman behind the desk at the dean’s office gives Foggy a fairly sceptical look.

(It’s not a surprise. Slaves are enrolled for studying in quite a few subjects, but mostly to become engineers, to work in science laboratories or to go into finance. Jobs that generate their owners money. Enrolling someone enslaved in law, or history, or philosophy or literature classes, is generally discouraged, because the last thing the system wants is to give slaves the intellectual tools to work against their bondage.)

“Yes.” Foggy nods determinedly. “He is my study aid, and I want him to take the same classes I do. He also has a Bachelor’s degree and everything. Please?”

(It’s not a completely wild shot. The system should actually work in their favour, here – slave holder lobby work has guaranteed that universities are legally required to always offer a number of spots for slaves for any given degree, and the fact that no one would be crazy enough to enrol his pet in law of all things should mean Matt can still get in, even this late.)

The woman’s eyes draw together as she looks at Matt’s documents, obviously trying to find a flaw in them. Matt is standing next to Foggy at the desk, outwardly calm and exceptionally well-behaved, even if ten minutes ago Foggy could still see him nervously fidgeting with his cane. He’s also wearing his old collar again, a last-minute adjustment after Matt pointed out that if Foggy wants to apply for anything official regarding Matt as his slave, it would be strange if he didn’t look the part.

“He’s blind.”

“Yes. And I still want a study aid, and you’re legally required not to discriminate against students with disabilities,” Foggy replies cheerfully. The woman gives him a look that indicates what exactly she seems to think of first year law students that want to go legal with her, but then only pushes a clipboard of papers toward them with a scowl.

“Fine. But I seriously question why you would bring a blind slave as a study aid with you. Though looking at him I can guess.” The worker presses her lips together, and gives both of them a wry glance. Next to him, Foggy can feel Matt stiffen and himself blush, but he really can’t afford to annoy the woman that could make or break Matt’s stay here.

(“Matt,” he’d asked half an hour ago, “would you like to be enrolled in the classes I take and become a lawyer?” and Matt had looked at him, had really looked like he was looking at him, and with a hoarse voice had replied “More than anything in the world.”)

Foggy isn’t going to screw this up.

“Very well. Pro forma, I’ll need a last name to enter on his application documents. There aren’t many slaves enrolled in this department, so we don’t have a separate form. Shall I enter yours? The first name you’ve given him is Matt, is it?”

“Matthew,” Matt says, quietly. Foggy takes a little breath – if Matt’s actual name is Matthew, that means he has been trusting Foggy with that part of his identity from the very beginning.

Trusted him not to take it away from him after he offered it.

“Matt…” he begins, and Matt flinches a little, bending his head. It seems to Foggy as if the metal collar around his neck also made him go right back to the behaviour he’d exhibited in the very beginning, tense and submissive.

“I’m sorry,” Matt mutters. “I just thought…for official documents, maybe the full version would be better?”

“You’re right. It is. His first name’s Matthew,” Foggy says, demonstratively confident and cheerful, and next to him, Matt lifts his head a little and seems to study him, somewhat surprised.

“Great. And the last name…?” the woman types on her keyboard, seemingly not impressed.

“Uh,” Foggy pauses, turning to Matt. “The last name…would you mind going by Nelson? Or maybe something really common, like Smith?”

Matt cocks his head, seeming to think. “I…wouldn’t mind going by Nelson, no,” he says, slowly, with a mild smile. “But if you don’t want people to wonder whether we’re brothers the entire time…” He swallows.

“Would you mind giving me the name Murdock?”

“Murdock?” Foggy repeats. “Matt Murdock?” he takes in a sharp breath. “Wait, are you actually from Hell’s Kitchen?”

The woman at the front desk clears her throat audibly. “The full name, please? There are other students waiting outside.”

“Oh. Right.” Foggy flounders for a moment. “Er, yeah. I’d like him to be registered under Matthew Murdock. Any middle names you want to have while we’re at it?”

“Michael,” Matt almost whispers, and Foggy tells her to write that down, too.

Xxx

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Awww, it's getting better for them.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

I am very much a sucker for fluff, yes. Conflict there will be, but we're...getting there slowly. XD

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

awesome chapter. I love that they had some banter, and that Matt is getting a chance to get his name back.
Looking forward to seeing more backstory to how he became a slave though

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

ah, yes - I'll likely touch on that at some point, thanks for reminding. I think Matt's last name is something really important to him since it's like almost the only thing he's got left of his dad.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

I love the end here--the sheer amount of trust Matt is showing Foggy, and the ways that you can see how their relationship later on is as untangled as it can be. Really great update.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Eyup, so far everything is still perfect - though we're finally getting to the canon storyline, so that might not be forever ;p Thanks for commenting! :D

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Thanks for the early present :)
Nice to see those two laughing together. Foggy idea to enroll Matt is made of win. And I'm glad to see Matt getting his name back, this is so important.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [7/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Have another one! :D And yeah, no AU without Matt becoming a lawyer *somehow*. XD I don't think I've ever seen a character's identity so tied up in their profession...

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [8/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Merry Christmas!

xxxx

What the hell, Matt?!”

Matt flinches at the outburst, and Foggy quickly forces himself to lower his voice. “You’re Matt Murdock? The kid who got his peepers knocked out saving that old dude?”

“Well, they didn’t get knocked out,” Matt defends himself with a pitiful attempt at a jocular tone. He seems slightly more relaxed now that they’re out of the Dean’s office and he has exchanged the metal collar for his hidden one once again. “Don’t think your mother would’ve bought me if I had been that badly damaged.”

“Well, yeah, that would’ve been kind of freaky,” Foggy says before he can stop himself. “Wait no! I didn’t mean that. Sorry. No offence meant.”

“None taken,” Matt replies, with a poor attempt at a smile.

“Yeah, that isn’t…I mean I can’t believe this,” Foggy says again when they get back to their dorm room. “You are basically a hero and they let you end up as a slave?”

“I’m not a hero,” Matt says and there’s only the slightest hint of wryness to his tone. “I just did what anyone would have done.”

“Bullshit,” Foggy shoots back immediately. “You totally are. And, I mean, I’m still thinking that actually no-one deserves to be sold into slavery, but of all those who don’t, you shouldn’t be the most. Er. Does that make sense?”

“I think I get it,” Matt says, and there’s a small smile back on his face again, before he continues, more quietly, “Thank you for letting me keep my name, Foggy.”

“Yeah, that…Matt, that was the least I could do,” Foggy replies, swallowing, before he can’t resist adding, “ Also, ’Matthew Nelson’ would have sounded terrible.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Matt gives a little laugh, the first genuine one Foggy can remember hearing from him since they arrived here. He takes it as a personal victory.

“Trust me on it. I hear blind people have spectacular hearing, so you should probably be able to tell that yourself. And yeah, starting from today on, you’ve got a last name to introduce yourself with, so you can just be a regular guy!” He grins, then adds, “A really, really good-looking guy,” because his foot is living in his mouth and has probably bought a condo there.

Matt’s tentative smile doesn’t freeze. It doesn’t even vanish, it just turns from…genuine, to something else. Something he thinks he never wants to see on Matt’s face again.

And Foggy backpedals frantically.

“Oh, um, I mean, girls will love that! The whole, handsome, wounded-duck thing. Right?”

Matt gives him another one of those stares that Foggy is pretty sure other owners don’t have to put up with.

“You…want me to attract girls?”

Great, now he isn’t thinking you want to jump his bones, now he’s thinking he’s supposed to act as some sort of weird, creepy bait to capture college girls for you.

“No! I mean, if you want to. I mean, we can be each other’s wingmen and it’ll be great! Let’s get coffee!” Foggy suggests frantically and then is already leading Matt out the door, because their college dorm is small, and Foggy is kind of hoping that awkwardness works like a gas, and space will let it dissipate.

xxx

The first day of classes, wearing his invisible collar and walking around campus now that all the other students have arrived, is an almost surreal experience for Matt. He is walking next to Foggy, being led by him like a friend, not like a pet, and when they stop to ask people for directions on the campus, they’re friendly to both of them, engage them in conversation and introduce themselves to him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“She’s holding out her hand, Matt,” Foggy nudges him in a stage whisper and he startles, realizing that he hasn’t even noticed it because he was so busy marvelling.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I should have said something!” He can feel the temperature of the girl’s skin rising, she is obviously blushing, and he hurries to give her a smile.

“No, it’s fine. I’m Matt Murdock, nice to meet you,” he says, holding out his own hand for her to grasp and can’t help but feel a wide grin stretch across his face. For the first time in a while, he feels alive.

xxx

In the beginning, Foggy is actually worried Matt will become dependent on him in the long run. Psychologically, if not physically.

Use kindness as a tool, the Slave Owner’s Manual had said. Any slave or pet will come to appreciate and depend on your kindness, going so far as to perceive it as necessary for its existence. Sometimes withholding kindness can be a far more effective measure of punishment than most anything else.

This had been followed by a lot of cherry-picked-sounding psycho babble about a guy named Harlow and the things he did to rhesus monkeys, and how starving your ‘pets’ of affection therefore was a brilliant move. Foggy bristled at everything of it and nearly tossed the book across the room. Matt wasn’t a rhesus monkey, for heaven’s sake.

Still the niggling worry is there, for the first two weeks – Matt mostly stays close when they go out, is quiet in class, hardly speaks to anyone when not spoken to, and doesn’t seem to do anything Foggy doesn’t drag him to. Foggy has actually started looking into legal possibilities to free slaves, though he hasn’t told Matt any of that yet - isn’t going to tell him anything and get his hopes up before he knows for sure what he is talking about - (while he hopes that, in case it works, by making Matt get a law degree, his slave will also be able to stand on his own two feet economically) but after these first two weeks he is worried that Matt may not acclimatize to being free that well, after all.

The turnabout comes during their third week at Columbia.

“Foggy?” Matt asks, and his voice is hesitant, uncertain. Foggy makes sure to reply with a broad, audible smile in his voice, because he’s come to connect that tone with Matt testing his new boundaries, and he wants to show him how wide they are.

“Yeah?”

Matt frowns. “Is something wrong with your voice? You sound odd.”

“Just smiling, buddy,” Foggy replies, though this time it sounds a bit more flat. He feels like he’s just been told his face looks weird. “Rude.”

“Sorry,” Matt says, but this time it’s less the cringing, rigid apology and more a relaxed, slightly teasing one. Foggy huffs back.

“What’s up?”

“I…” Matt fiddles a bit with the hem of his sleeve. “Our dorm is quite close to an old boxing gym I used to know. I think if I asked, the owner there might let me train after hours, maybe for free. If you’d be fine with that.”

“What? Yeah, sure!” Foggy says, delighted at this turn of events. “By all means! Go for it. I didn’t know you liked to box.”

“It’s been a while,” Matt says, but doesn’t elaborate. “If you could get me the permit to go out by myself and the one to leave the house after dark…”

“Permit?” Foggy frowns.

(It turns out, there is a lot Foggy still has to learn about slave holding. Slaves legally have no rights, Matt explains, but there are privileges which their owner can bestow upon them. The right to leave the house by yourself, for example. The right to carry cash. The right to use telecommunication, the right to speak to other free people when not spoken to, the right to be out at night, to drink alcohol, to buy things, and so many more Foggy’s head is buzzing by the time Matt is done listing them.)

“So…the entire time, when you stuck around in here, being a homebody, that was…?”

At this, Matt actually gives a quiet little laugh. “I think I’m probably a natural homebody. But yeah. I’m not actually allowed to leave the dorm unless there’s a…handler with me.” The edges of his mouth turn down at the corners at the last words.

“Uh-huh,” Foggy repeats hollowly. “And how do you get these permits?”

(The permits, apparently, are available at the municipal bureau. Matt and Foggy show up there the very next Saturday morning, and Foggy pointedly ignores the other people there with their slaves, men and women, some barely clothed, all visibly collared, who kneel next to their owners on the floor, or who look scared and spooked, fidgeting next to either apathetic masters or masters who pet them in an attempt at settling them. Both Foggy and Matt - who is sitting next to Foggy on the uncomfortable plastic chairs and wearing his old, metal collar for this venture, (“It’ll be fine, Foggy,” Matt had said wearily. “They’ll expect me to be collared at the bureau, the skin abrasions have completely healed by now, and I’ll survive having to wear it for an afternoon. I know you’ll take it off after.” And he’d given him a smile, once again looking grateful enough that Foggy started to blush) - feel more than awkward when questioning stares land on them the entire time.

When finally, finally Foggy’s number is called, and they are able to head to the next overworked civil servant, both of them are glad to get out of the waiting room. Matt clings a bit more tightly to Foggy’s arm than usual, and Foggy doesn’t know how much of that is an act for their audience, playing up the part of dependent pet, and how much of that is Matt being seriously uncomfortable and overwhelmed by all the new sounds and smells of their unfamiliar surroundings, so he simply puts a soothing hand on Matt’s clinging fingers, rubbing them a bit in an attempt at comfort. Matt relaxes. Foggy’s gesture falls in the blurry overlap between the treatment of a scared slave and that of an anxious friend, but it’s that overlap they’ve been using ever since their arrangement started, so by now, it’s almost a comfort on its own.

“Hello. So, you’re here for…”

“Permits. For slaves. I want all of them,” Foggy says, firmly, and he can feel Matt next to him suppressing a startled snort, just as the woman at the counter gives him a seriously doubtful stare over the rim of her glasses.

“You want to apply for a permit for your slave?” she asks, chancing a glance over at Matt.

“Close. I want to apply for all the permits there are. I think there are a lot, right?” Foggy asks. “No worries, we’ve got time!”

The woman gives him a dry look. “So you also want the permit for him to be able to fly a plane?”

“Uh…maybe not that one,” Foggy stumbles. “But the rest, yeah. Bring them on.”

Matt makes a noise that he thinks might’ve been a verbal protest if they were alone, so he adds, “and put the one for him being allowed to talk to people on top!”

“Right above the ones for him to be allowed to handle farm equipment and perform in a theatre, then,” the woman mutters, but starts getting forms out of folders. Foggy and Matt take the stack of papers and retreat to a corner in the bureau – where Matt is thankfully talking to him again once they have a semblance of privacy – and Foggy does just what he promised to do and fills out every one.

Well.

The one allowing Matt to get pregnant gets rejected by the woman when they return (as does the one for Matt being allowed to handle fire arms), but other than that, Foggy considers their trip a triumphant success when they leave with an entire deck of little plastic cards, each one of them informing the reader of another ‘privilege’ granted to Matt now.

“Thank you,” Matt says, as soon as they have left the bureau and he has exchanged the metal collar for his regular, hidden one again. Foggy notices how his entire posture even changes, becomes straighter and more confident, more like he’d been on his good days during the last two weeks. “I don’t think I’ll need to carry most of them with me, most of the time, but…thank you.”

And he’s smiling, and genuinely smiling, and Foggy thinks that this entire Saturday, filling out forms at the office until his hand cramped, was SO worth it.)

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [8/?]

[(Anonymous)]

I love how Foggy is clearly starting to struggle with what the right thing to do is in smaller situations, but is just as clearly determined to do it.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [8/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Oh I love how Foggy is figuring out how to make Matt feel comfortable and they seem so atuned to eachother. Really great.
The permit thing sounds like bureaucratic hell and the atmosphere sounds like the DMV. SOunds like a lot of excuses to hassle people- just taking any reason available to get them in trouble.
Reminds me of some of the news stories going around of police stopping cars and finding any reason to arrest the person. Oh, you looked at me funny, probable cause lets go take a look at your car safety and find something to charge you with.

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [8/?]

[(Anonymous)]

"Permits. For Slaves. I want all of them."

Oh my god this line. I actually laughed out loud haha. Way to get to the point Foggy.

FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6c/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Hey y'all, here's a little bonus scene I've written up and wanted to throw to you in between. It takes place during the first week Foggy has Matt, when they're still at his family's house and he has just bought him the new collar. I thought we could do with a Matt POV scene of him dealing with the thing when he puts it on for the first time the next morning. Have fun :p

Xxx

After breakfast, Matt steps out of the shower (the warm shower, that he has all to himself, he still has trouble processing that) and, naked, steps over to his pile of clothes for the day. Underwear on top, crisp, new jeans from amazon and a shirt from underneath, black and light blue respectively, according to what Foggy had said. They don’t fit exactly – the drawback of online shopping, which is why they’re heading to the mall today, again – but better than the clothes of Foggy did. Matt still feels almost alien to be dressed, for what seems like forever, in new clothes, that had been bought for him.

It feels almost like being a person again.

Except for…

Matt exhales, deeply, and then reaches out for the last item on the tumble dryer he had stacked his clothes on before taking his morning shower. His hand closes around the new, red leather collar.

(“Okay, let’s take the bandage off for tonight,” Foggy had said, yesterday evening after he had given Matt his new collar, “Then your neck has one night to completely heal and get some fresh air and then you should be able to start wearing this one tomorrow, and we can leave the house. Sound good?” he’d asked, even if amending it with what sounded like a small grimace. “I mean, not good, but…bearable?”

“Yes, Foggy,” Matt had said, still feeling a bit dazed. He had fallen asleep that night, neck bare for the first time in years, and still run his fingers over the new collar in the darkness, the thing that would likely make him truly Foggy’s.

He had almost wished Foggy would put it on him already just to get it over with.)

To Matt’s surprise, Foggy hadn’t put it on him.

Instead, he’d been handed it in the morning again, together with the new clothes that had arrived in the mail.

“Here,” Foggy had said, “Just, uh. Y’know. Try it on, see whether it fits under your shirt and is comfortable and all. Of course, you don’t have to wear it in the house if you don’t want to. Just. Whatever is easier for you, okay?”

“Oh. Yes, Foggy,” Matt had replied, slightly dumbfounded as he took it and the clothes, before being directed to the bathroom again.

He had never met an owner who didn’t enjoy putting a collar on their pets. (And they do, often tightening them extra fast for the first few days, just to drive it home. You are owned by me now.)

Matt’s lips thin.

Collars are degrading. Dehumanizing. Humiliating. Matt has also never forgotten the day the first one had been locked around his neck and he can’t even remember if he ever went more than the minute it took for them to exchange one collar for another without one, except for last night. Hands, touching his throat, his neck, and twisting keys, turning them in locks, making it tight enough to choke him…Matt takes another deep breath, fist closed tightly around the new collar, crushing the leather against his skin.

But it’s softly yielding leather, and even though it’s a collar, it’s…different.

He had never been able to take a collar off by himself, for instance. Collars are locked by nature, whether they’re heavy padlocks or dainty little electronic chip-locks. This one is the latter, it thickens both at the front where he knows Foggy has put his ID chip into the holding space, the thing not much bigger than a micro SIM card, and at the back, where there’s a small metal bit that likely will only open when Foggy puts the electronic chip key he’s probably been given near the chip at the front. Matt still couldn’t open this collar if he wanted to.

But it’s so wide that Matt doesn’t even need to. He lifts it, once again thinking that he could probably double it up into a figure eight and still pull it over his head, and then takes a breath and lets it fall around his neck, touching the back over his shirt collar and coming to lay over his front, low enough to easily hang a hand’s width below his collarbones.

He’s now officially collared as Foggy’s and he doesn’t feel like he’s choking. Now there’s a first.

On impulse, Matt grabs the leather band and proceeds to stuff it quickly inside his shirt, settling it between the fabric and his bare skin. He can’t see his image in the mirror, so he resorts to patting, and realizes that yes, Foggy’s idea should work, the ridges the collar makes underneath the shirt are so fine and irregular he’s pretty sure they shouldn’t stand out.

And it also..doesn’t even feel that bad. Collars are supposed to be humiliating, and to make you feel your place. This one…it isn’t physically uncomfortable, and while Matt still doesn’t like the fact that he has to wear it, it takes a lot of the shame away if nobody can see it. He could almost live with this.

(Though he still has no idea why, or what the motives are behind this. Yesterday, at the idea of even being able to spend a single hour outside without that visible brand around his neck, had sounded so overwhelming, pitching himself onto his knees in front of Foggy had been pretty much all he could do. Now, in the light of day, he was almost a bit embarrassed to have acted like this, giving in to his conditioning so easily, but, still. The idea of going out pretending to be a free man makes his stomach churn with both exhilaration and nerves. He prays Foggy still means it.)

When Matt steps out in his new clothes and Foggy’s heart skips a beat for a moment, before he stammers, “Uh, oh…wow. Looking good there. Are you wearing the collar right now? Because if you are, I can’t tell, so that’s good,” Matt almost can’t help but smile as he says

“Yes, Foggy, I am. I…it’s much more comfortable than my old one. Thank you,” and he knows he sounds like the most pathetic, brainwashed pet ever, but he can’t help but mean it.

(He also doesn’t take it off when they get home, still dazed by how the day had gone, how people had talked to him, how Foggy had joked with him, how…he had almost felt human again, the hidden collar briefly just a thin cord of leather around his neck, as meaningless as a piece of jewellery.

Nothing he wants to claw off his skin as soon as they’re back home and he is no longer legally required to wear it, anyway.

And he tells himself it is easier that way, that way he can’t lose or forget it, and he can almost manage to convince himself that it doesn’t mean he doesn’t particularly mind wearing Foggy’s collar when it’s just the two of them.)

xxx

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6c/?]

[(Anonymous)]

omg so sweet, I always love an update to this! (even a back update. LOL)

Re: FILL: Foggy gets Matt as college graduation present [6c/?]

[(Anonymous)]

The collar seems so big, I wonder why they even make them that loose. Is there some ulterior horrible purpose to it? Is it so that it can, uh, be looped around something? Makes choking easier?