daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #10

Entry tags:

prompt post

Daredevil Prompt Post #10

THIS POST IS CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS.
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #11.

Keep filling prompts on this post! Make sure to link any new fic on the complete or work in progress fills posts so it doesn't get missed.

Please read the current rules before commenting on this post.

Mod Post | Discussion/Off-Topic Post | Writing Challenges
AO3 Collection | Searchable Prompts on Delicious | Fills: Completed & WIPs
Previous Rounds: #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7 | #8 | #9
Other Prompt Posts: Marvel Comics | Jessica Jones

THIS POST IS FOR ANYONE WHO HAS SEEN SEASON 2 OF DAREDEVIL or doesn't mind being spoiled for it. If you haven't and you're lost and confused, head back to the safety of Post #9, where no S2 spoilers are allowed.

Feel free to put prompts that have nothing to do with Season 2 on this post! This is a general prompt post, just without any spoiler warnings.

Rules:
General
YKINMKATO. Play nice. Respect others. If you don't like something, scroll on.

All comments must be anon. If you would like to be politely banned to avoid anon-failing, leave a logged-in comment on the mod post or pm the mod account.

Subject lines should only be changed if you're posting a prompt or a fill (indicators like OP or Author!Anon should go in the body of the comment).

RPF is allowed. Crossovers, characters from the extended Marvel Universe and comics canon are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 TV show in some way.

Prompts focusing on characters from Jessica Jones should go on the Jessica Jones Prompt Post, but crossovers with Daredevil can go on either post.

Prompts that are exclusively about the comics should go on the Comics Prompt Post.

Drop a comment on the mod post if you have any questions or problems.

Prompts
All types of prompts are welcome.

Use the subject line for the main idea of your prompt (pairing or characters, keywords, kink).

Warnings are nice, but not mandatory. Get DW Blocker if there's anything you really don't want to see.

Reposted prompts are allowed once one round has passed - e.g. prompts from post #2 cannot be reposted until post #4. Please include a link to where it has been previously posted.

Fills
Put [FILL] or something similar in the subject line when posting a fill.

Announce your fill on either the Completed Fills Post or the WIP Post.

Long fills can either be posted over multiple comments, or posted on AO3 and linked back here.

Multiple fills are always okay.

Fills can be anything! Fic, art and vids are all welcome.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The thing about Frank, was that he meant what he said.

So when he said he’d give Foggy a blow job, that meant Foggy got a blow job. They had gone out to the movies that night, a comedy Tina had told him was good, eating a late dinner of sushi because Foggy had had a craving.

When they had gotten home, Frank had pressed Foggy back against the front door and murmured against his mouth,

“How about that blow job I owe you?”

Which was how Foggy ended up naked on his bed, propped up by a few pillows, Frank settled between his legs. His cock was already fully hard, Frank’s hand wrapped around the base. Foggy was babbling and Frank hadn’t even gotten his mouth on him yet.

“It’s totally cool if it’s too much, I mean not size-wise although I think I’m a pretty decent size? Not huge or anything but good enough? Anyway, I mean, like emotionally, if you aren’t ready, you can stop anytime, I won’t get mad, I swear-”

“Relax,” Frank said, sounding amused.

“Easy for you to say,” Foggy gasped as Frank dragged his hand up Foggy’s shaft, fisting the head and then stroking back down, “You aren’t getting the world’s best hand job right now.”

Frank just hmm’ed, his hand tight and warm, keeping a nice, steady rhythm. He was eying Foggy’s cock like he was planning an attack mission. Weirdly hot and also a little terrifying.

“It’s easiest if you use your hand and just like, work the head.”

“I know how to google,” Frank said dryly and Foggy blinked, because really? The idea of Frank surfing the internet for gay sex tips was intriguing.

“What exactly did you google?”

Frank answered him by sucking the head of his cock into his mouth. Foggy let out a very manful yelp, his head slamming back against the pillow. Frank was rubbing his tongue firmly along the frenulum and apparently his googling was very up to par.

“Oh geez, did you find a how-to page? Because if so, they gave you some excellent advice. Were there pictures? Oh, shit, were there videos? Frank, did you watch gay porn and touch yourself?”

Frank pulled off, which was terrible, Foggy’s cock wanted his mouth back.

“I found what I needed,” Frank said, keeping his mouth close enough to Foggy’s cock that his lips brushed along skin. Foggy whimpered, did his best not to squirm up and smack Frank’s face with his cock. It would be rude and no way was Foggy going to be rude to somebody who was nice enough to suck his dick.

Frank ducked his head, pressing soft kisses to the head of Foggy’s cock.

“Was gay porn what you needed?” Foggy asked, because he didn’t know when to shut up. It had gotten him into so much trouble all his life and he never learned better. Frank took the head of his cock back into his mouth, bobbing his head the slightest bit, keeping his hand wrapped around the base. Then he pulled off again.

“If I said, yes, I watched gay porn, would that make you happy?”

“Why are we having a conversation right now?” Foggy wailed, hands coming up to scrub at his face before dropping to clutch at the bedsheets.

“You’re the one who keeps asking me questions,” Frank pointed out but was kind enough to suck the tip of Foggy’s cock back into his mouth. Foggy bit his lip, breath hitching in his chest because god, he must have fantasied about this a thousand times. Frank’s mouth stretched around his cock, those dark eyes staring up at him.

One hand was cradling his balls, the other stroking up and down his shaft while Frank mouthed at the head. He was sucking in little bursts intermixed with laving the head with his tongue, his hand, rough and callused, stroking up and down the whole time. Those calluses, those fucking calluses, they were veering into fetish country for Foggy.

He breathed deep, sinking into it. Frank’s mouth was clumsy, a little shy and didn’t that kill Foggy a little inside, that he was Frank’s first because Frank wanted it. Frank took the time to read up on it, prepared for it because he wanted Foggy to have a good time. Foggy hadn’t experienced that kind of care in a long time.

Then Frank’s hand slipped away from Foggy’s balls, disappearing for a moment or two before coming back, slick and wet and prodding at Foggy’s ass.

Foggy blinked open eyes that he had apparently screwed shut. This was a surprise, they had been pretty consistent about staying away from ass play. Before he could ask though, Frank was shouldering his legs further apart and Foggy went easily, letting his thighs fall open. Frank’s hand slipped between them, wet fingers prodding at his hole before one slid in.

Oh god. It was ridiculous, how good that felt, and it was just one finger. Since they started having sex, Foggy hadn’t used any of his sex toys, not even his favorite dildo. Sure, he had thought about Frank fucking him, had known it would take a while for them to get there and had been content to wait. So, while Foggy’s ass was by no means virgin, it had been a while since it had seen some action.

Frank slipped a second finger in, not to stretch, but simply so Foggy could feel it. Or maybe just so Frank could feel Foggy warm and tight around his fingers, clenching down as Frank sucked on his cock. Maybe Frank was thinking about fucking Foggy, about how his cock would feel pushed in deep.

No matter how often Foggy had sex, he was always surprised by the levels of intimacy. The closeness of rocking together, the care of taking someone down the back of his throat, the thrill of letting someone inside. Letting Frank inside, the fact that it was Frank, not some one night stand, not some random hook-up but Frank.

A part of Frank was inside Foggy, and maybe someday soon, his cock would be inside Foggy, taking him deep.

It was too much, which was so ridiculous, Foggy’s favorite dildo had a girth that put Frank’s two fingers to shame but all the same. Frank’s mouth on his cock, his fingers in Foggy’s ass, it was overwhelming and Foggy felt his orgasm suddenly come crashing over him.

“Frank!” Foggy cried out, as close as he could get to a warning. Frank understood, slipping his fingers out so he could grab at Foggy’s hip.

Foggy seized up as he came, hips jerking up uncontrollably but it was cool because Frank just leaned down hard, keeping Foggy’s hips pinned in place. He pulled off, one hand curled around Foggy’s hip, the other stroking Foggy’s cock the rest of the way through. Foggy’s body thrashed against Frank as best it could, the pleasure absolutely overwhelming, come splattering against his skin and running down his length, slicking Frank’s hand and making it a thousand times better.

The way Frank held him down, so easy, he was so strong and Foggy moaned as the last of his orgasm wrung through him, finally going limp on the bed. With hitching breath, he wiped at his face because, yeah, he had cried a little, it had been so good. He was trembling, weak and shocky while Frank got to his knees next to Foggy, one hand resting on Foggy’s shoulder. His other hand, the one wet with Foggy’s come, was stripping his cock, rough and fast, his eyes sweeping up and down Foggy’s body.

“Shit,” Foggy slurred, groping haphazardly for Frank’s hand, pulling it from his shoulder. He brought Frank’s hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles, rough and scarred. The knuckles of a fighter, of someone who dealt out pain but for Foggy, all Frank had was pleasure.

Foggy flicked his tongue along Frank’s skin and Frank groaned, his fingers tightening in Foggy’s as he came, his come stripping along Foggy’s side, mingling with what Foggy had already left. It was ridiculously hot.

“Fuck, fuck, hot shot, it’s good,” Frank choked out, working his cock as he finished coming, leaning down to kiss Foggy, hot and wet. Foggy clutched at him, Frank’s free hand landing on his stomach, rubbing their mixed fluids into Foggy’s skin. Should be super gross and yet still somehow profoundly arousing. If Foggy had been a nineteen year old, he’d probably get hard again.

With muscles made of rubber, he tugged feebly at Frank until Frank stretched out beside him and then cuddled him close.

“I liked the butt stuff,” Foggy said, when he finally caught his breath and Frank sighed deeply.

“Butt stuff,” he said, “You’re like a poet, I swear.”

Foggy laughed, rolling on his side so he could grin at Frank.

“What do you want me to say? The gentle probing of my pink rosebud-“

“Stop, stop, hot shot, I swear-“

Frank grappled at him as he tried to squirm away, Foggy squawking as Frank tickled him. Despite that, he tried desperately to keep going.

“My quivering rosebud opened, like a flower seeing the light-“

“For fuck’s sake.”

Frank hauled him down for a kiss, shutting him up in the best way possible, ignoring the way Foggy was still giggling against his mouth. Eventually Foggy calmed, the kissing drawing out to something deep and lovely.

Ultimately, they slid apart, Frank getting up first and walking naked to open the bedroom door. Max poked his head, looked at Foggy still sprawled on the bed then turned and trotted back down the hall. Frank laughed at Foggy’s cry of insulted dismay and then left to take a shower.

They had tried showering together only once and since that once had ended in bruises and feeling unclean, had opted to never do so again. If Foggy had known shower sex had been in his future, he would have tried harder to find an apartment with a bigger bathroom.

*

That morning, when his alarm started beeping, he woke up to find Frank still in bed with him, blinking awake as Foggy fumbled for his phone. He finally managed to silence it, falling back to bed with a groan.

“It’s too early, why do I have to work so early? Frank, make it so I don’t have to work early.”

“Get your lazy ass out of bed and get dressed,” Frank said, unmoved by Foggy’s pathetic whining. “C’mon, Max, let’s leave him to it.”

While Foggy got ready, Frank and Max disappeared down the hall and by the time Foggy was freshly shaved and dressed, the sweet, sweet smell of coffee was wafting in the air. With one last tug at his tie, he hurried to the kitchen and sure enough, Frank had a cup of coffee ready for him.

“You are a god,” Foggy said, breathing in the steam rising from his mug before taking a sip. “Oh yeah, just perfect.”

Frank ignored him, drinking from his own cup. Foggy knew it would be pure black because Frank was too tough for things like cream or sugar. Then Frank put his coffee down and began to rummage through the fridge, coming back with eggs and sausage. At Foggy’s curious look, Frank said,

“I’ll take Max out after you leave. You’ve got time for breakfast.”

So as Frank fried up the sausages and eggs, Foggy toasted the english muffins, slathering his with marmalade and Frank’s with butter. They ate breakfast together, mostly in companionable silence because god, it was early.

Foggy left Frank leaning against the counter with one last sleepy goodbye kiss, tossing Max the late bite of his muffin. He whistled on his way to work and if he didn’t have that tiny shred of dignity, he’d probably be skipping too.

Could life get any better than this?

*

Foggy woke up to Max nosing at his hand. It took him a moment to register that his bedroom looked lighter than usual and he fumbled for his phone.

Shit, he’d slept in, no wonder poor Max started poking at him. He had a vague memory of Frank pressing a kiss to his temple, murmuring something about reconnaissance. He had left while it was still dark which meant he hadn’t had the time to take Max out.

He was still a little gross from sex last night but no time to shower. He figured it didn’t matter, he’d just walk Max around the block and then head back home. Nobody would notice his grodiness. He went to the bathroom, did his business and then snagged a washcloth to wipe haphazardly at his belly. Eh. Good enough.

He threw on some clothes on then grabbed Max harness and away they went.

Max took care of business almost immediately, poor thing and then they started a circuit around the block. Foggy figured he’d let Max stretch his legs for a little bit before heading back home. He’d clean up, eat some food and then take Max for another walk.

He was just wondering if cold, left-over pizza for breakfast was expedient or just sad when he heard it.

“Foggy.”

Foggy’s heart started pounding even as he froze. He knew that voice. Heart in his throat, he slowly pivoted on his heel to find Matt standing a few feet away, hesitant smile on his face.

His hair was a little longer, maybe, but other than that he looked the same, even wearing a shirt that Foggy recognized. Like no time had passed at all which was so strange when Foggy felt like a completely different person.

“Foggy,” Matt repeated, “It’s good to see you, well, you know what I mean.”

As a joke it fell flat and Foggy remained silent, not out of choice but because he honestly couldn’t find his voice. Matt’s smile began to fade, slip off his face and Foggy suddenly got his voice back because there had been a time when he lived for Matt’s smile and old habits died hard.

“It’s been over a year, Matt,” he managed to get out. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

Foggy had given up hope on that happening, or at least he thought he had. Seeing Matt now, he had to admit a tiny little kernel had lived on. And now that tiny kernel was unfurling in his chest, growing with every beat of his racing heart.

“It’s good to see you,” he said honestly and there it was, Matt’s smile was back.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

“Of course I wanted to see you, you were my friend, Matt.”

“And you are mine, Foggy.”

And sometimes even good things felt like a punch to the gut. Present tense there, not past. Foggy was still his friend, so maybe Matt was still Foggy’s. Foggy wondered what his heart must sound like to Matt right now, because it felt like it was tap dancing in his chest.

“You’ve been good?” he asked, “I tried to keep track of you, uhm, Matt Murdock, not the, you know. Him, I read about in the news.”

Matt’s smile twisted a bit, wry and self-effacing.

“I’m good. I take a few cases here and there but money isn’t a problem. The money Elektra gave me has helped.”

His voice stuttered a bit on her name but his voice had always tended to stutter on her name, all those years ago back in law school. Foggy had to pry her name from him the first time around, when Matt was careening wildly off track and Foggy had been desperate to get him set to rights.

That had been the only time Foggy had ever truly been afraid for Matt, until he learned The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and Matt were one and the same. He couldn’t believe there had been a time when he honestly believed Elektra was the worse thing that could ever happen to Matt.

He had wondered about her and the money he had left untouched in their business account when he had gone about cleaning up the tattered remains of Nelson & Murdock. Even at his most angry, he had hoped that money would be there for Matt and Matt would be smart enough to use it.

He could tell by the flavor of silence that Matt wasn’t going to say anymore about Elektra. That was also familiar, the same heavy silence Foggy would get at Columbia whenever he tried to broach the subject of her.

“Oh, that’s good. I wanted-,” he broke off then went ahead anyway, “I hoped everything went well for you.”

“And you,” Matt said, “Got yourself that nice office at HC&B. Your parents must be proud.”

Wow. It was like talking to an acquaintance at a high school reunion. Awkward chitchat about mundane subjects. Well, work would be a mundane subject if they hadn’t dissolved the practice they formed together. Foggy sighed.

“This is weird,” he said, running one hand through his hair. “This is weird, that it’s weird.”

“I know,” Matt said softly and Foggy winced, because he knew what guilt looked like on Matt’s face.

“It’s weird,” he repeated, “But hey, that’s okay. We can work our way back to not-weird, right? We’ve done it before. I called you a handsome duck and we bounced back from that.”

Matt gave a little laugh, a chuff, a chuckle and Foggy had missed that sound. He found himself smiling, drifting a little bit closer. Matt was fiddling with his cane.

“Actually, I’ve been tracking a company and I was hoping you could look in to it for me, what with your connections with HC&B.”

Foggy felt his smile slip and he stopped where he was. There was a yawning pit opening beneath his feet.

“What?” he asked, heart tripping in his chest again but for a completely different reason. Matt fidgeted.

“IGH, it’s some sort of chemical company. I’ve been trying to track it but it’s just shell corporation after shell corporation. I was thinking with your connections maybe you could rustle up some more information.”

Matt was blathering on but Foggy was hearing nothing but white noise. That stupid little kernel of hope was withering and dying because this wasn’t friend stuff, this was Devil stuff. Because Matt hadn’t showed up because he missed Foggy.

“You need something from me,” he realized out loud, incredulous,“That’s why you’re here now, not because you actually wanted to see me but because you need something from me.”

Matt broke off, looking startled and then distressed.

“No, Foggy, of course not-“

And then, of course, a gust of wind picked up, buffering against Foggy’s back on it’s way to Matt.

Matt took a step back as if struck, nostrils flaring. Enhanced senses, Foggy thought distantly even as Matt’s face paled then turned red. Shit.

Matt dropped his cane.

“What the hell?” Matt demanded, coming towards Foggy faster than a blind man had any right to and before Foggy could react, Max was rearing up, yanking on his leash and snarling. It was pure instinct, a year of training kicking in, that kept his grip firm on the handle.

“Max, down!” he said sharply, voice a harsh command. Max immediately dropped to all fours but his ears stayed down, teeth bared in a silent snarl.

Matt stopped, face flickering towards Max before dismissing him.

“Why do you smell like Frank Castle?”

Hands wrapped tightly around Max’s leash, Foggy couldn’t help but glance around, although he knew they were alone. Matt noticed, of course he did. World on fire.

“What, afraid someone will overhear?” Matt said, angry and Foggy gritted his teeth. He knew Matt had a temper, had roused it a few times on his own even before all this Devil shit had gone down. Matt could hit hard without having to raise his fists.

“What-“ he broke off, swallowed. “What Frank and I are is none of your business.”

Matt moved towards him again and by his side, Max growled low and deep. Foggy shortened Max’s leash, put a calming hand on his head.

“Don’t come any closer, you’re upsetting my dog.”

“Your dog? Your dog is upset? You want to know what I find upsetting? The fact that you’re fucking The Punisher.”

Matt’s voice rose on the last bit and Foggy felt his own temper flare, slipping from his control.

“Keep it down,” he snapped, “I don’t go telling your secrets, don’t you dare tell mine.”

A threat, maybe. Foggy wasn’t even sure, not in this moment, not with the disgust that Matt put on the word ‘fucking’. Like that was all it was, no heart, no soul, just base lust. One of the seven sins, right? Like Foggy should be ashamed.

“You have no idea about our relationship. You, of all people, you don’t get to judge.”

“I know what he’s capable of,” Matt said, mulish.

“So do I, which was more than I could say about you.”

Matt full body flinched and Foggy felt viciously triumphant. Yeah, Foggy could land his own punches, with the same sort of accuracy Matt had. Matt came back from the hit though, his jaw firming up and god, Foggy knew that face too.

That was Matt’s righteous face, the face he had when he knew without a doubt he was right and everybody else was wrong, wrong, wrong.

His voice, when he spoke, was the tone he took when he was placating a hysterical client. That he thought that tone would work on Foggy was just insult to injury.

“Foggy, whatever you think your relationship is, you’re wrong. You are way over your head. Frank Castle is not a sane man, he is not a safe man-“

“That’s enough!” Foggy shouted, loud enough that it echoed. Beside him, Max whined and pawed at the ground. “Enough, Matt. You don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t have to listen. You need someone to get you information on this ICH? Find some other lackey.”

Matt came towards him again because Matt didn’t learn, not when he didn’t want to. Max barked twice, voice deep in his chest, a warning if Foggy ever heard one.

“Back off, Matt. If he bites you, he gets put down. Do you get that? Just back off and leave me be.”

Matt didn’t move so Foggy did, backing away warily. He didn’t put his back to Matt until he and Max were at least ten feet away. Once he did though, he didn’t look back. Let Matt watch him leave, for once.

Let him be the one left behind.

*

Three nights later, Frank came home with a black eye and a gash across his cheek.

“Is there any particular reason Red tried to kick my ass?”

Foggy cursed, rising from the sofa so he could go to Frank. He grabbed Frank’s face, tilting it from side to side to get a better look at his injuries.

“Goddammit, I am so, so, sorry. I didn’t think he’d bother you about it.”

And he hadn’t, although in retrospect it did seem like a Matt thing to do, as in it was completely insane and lacked real world logic. He hustled Frank over to the couch, went to get the first aid kit and an ice pack from the kitchen. More for busy work. The gash was scabbed over, probably happened last night.

“I ran into him the other morning. He needed some information.”

Even Foggy could hear how bitter his voice sounded.

“He smelled you on me.”

At Frank’s quirked eyebrow, Foggy felt his face redden.

“Max had to go out, I hadn’t showered yet and I was a little,” he trailed off, gestured vaguely at his stomach. Frank rubbed his hand across his mouth, looking bemused.

“Red and his goddamned superpowers. I knew about the hearing but the smell thing is new.”

“Yeah, well, Matt is full of surprises.” Foggy muttered, as he reached up to pull the ice pack away from Frank’s face. His black eye wasn’t too terrible, most of the swelling on the bottom. Frank could still see out of that eye, at least. “If I had just showered, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You upset he knows about us?” Frank asked, casual, and Foggy immediately shook his head.

“No! Well, yeah, if he’s trying to beat you up. He’s being such an asshole. Like he gets any say in how I live my life.”

He harumphed and ducked in for a quick peck on the lips but Frank reached up and grabbed his neck, held him in place while he deepened the kiss. Foggy was a bit surprised but went with it, like he always did when Frank wanted affection.

Eventually they pulled back.

“I’m really sorry about this, Frank. It didn’t even occur to me to let you know. I should have sent a text.”

“Not your fault. I’m guessing he’s not too happy about us?”

“You could say that. There was a lot of yelling.”

That was the problem with Foggy’s temper. When it flared, it went supernova and he would be downright brutal in the moment. Cruel. It was afterwards, when his anger collapsed on itself that the guilt and the shame kicked in. Threatening to out Matt as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t cool but he wasn’t even sure if that’s how he meant it, not even now.

He had mostly wanted to remind Matt he was in no position to throw stones.

Foggy hadn’t held a grudge in his life and when his temper did rear it’s ugly head, it tended to burn itself out quickly. And over the past few days, he had, in fact, calmed down. Enough to realize that Matt had found out about Frank in basically the shittiest way possible. On the few occasions Foggy had imagined reconciliation, he had eased slowly into revealing his relationship with Frank because god knew, it was a bit of a doozy.

So of course, Matt had to go and do this. He could be such a butthead, sometimes.

He sighed, scrubbing at his face. He wasn’t sure exactly what he felt. He was still angry but he also felt bad, Matt was a dick but Foggy had kind of been a dick too. It was complicated. But that was the effect Matt had on Foggy now, a whirling mass of conflicting emotions.

So angry but so aching too. Feeling betrayed and left wondering just how much betraying he did in his own stead. So many fights with Matt and he always had his reasons, good reasons, driven almost entirely by fear. So much fear he was mad with it. Fear Matt would get hurt, get caught and bring their lives crashing down around them. Or worst of all, die and leave Foggy alone.

Funny how he ended up leaving Foggy alone anyway. At least until Frank came along.

“Max didn’t like him either,” Foggy added, “Matt kept coming at me and Max kept snarling at him.”

Frank tensed.

“Coming at you?”

Foggy dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand.

“Probably just wanted to manhandle me a bit. He’s got a temper.”

Foggy still remembered their laughable slapfight in the courthouse bathroom. For someone with mad ninja skills, Matt flailed pretty pathetically, at least when it came to fighting Foggy. If Foggy was feeling charitable, he’d say it was nice of Matt not to clean the floor with him.

If he was being charitable, he’d admit that Matt had his own reasons too, driven by guilt and a sense of responsibility and a burning desire to make things right. No matter how much Foggy scoffed, Matt kept saying the city needed him and in the end, he was right.

Foggy slumped back against the sofa.

“Ugh, Matt, you asshole.”

He cuddled up to Frank, prodding at him until Frank lifted his arm and Foggy snugged up under it. Frank was warm and solid and his. He rested his head on Frank’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry he tried to beat you up.”

Frank was surprisingly blasé about it, shrugging, Foggy’s body shifting with his.

“That’s not on you. Red’s gonna do, what Red’s gonna do. Your whole falling out was because he didn’t do what you wanted right? Why would I blame you for what he does now?”

“Put that way... Ugh, why aren’t you more angry? He attacked you, like that is not cool at all. He hurt you, Frank.”

“Not the first time, won’t be the last. It’s okay, hot shot. Don’t hold it against him. He’ll probably try to kick my ass for some other reason next week.”

Frank sounded sincere, his hand rubbing up and down Foggy’s arm. For someone so brutal to criminals, Frank could be surprisingly forgiving to the few he thought deserved it.

“Have you- have you seen him before this?”

“Nah, not really, not since the night with the ninjas. Pretty sure he’s been ducking me.”

“The night with the ninjas,” Foggy marveled, “That’s the kind of life we lead, that we can casually recall dates like ‘the night with the ninjas’. And the fact that my ex-friend beats up my boyfriend.”

“Tries to beat up your boyfriend,” Frank corrected and Foggy’s heart trilled a happy little beat at Frank so casually affirming their commitment.

“I had been thinking of calling him,” Foggy admitted, “I said some things, was going to apologize. I wish I could just be angry. I mean, I am angry but it also just sucks. It just hurts and no matter how mad I am at him, I know it’s not just his fault. I did some fucked up things too.”

“Do what you need,” Frank said, voice a little gruff.

Foggy thought it over, turning a bit so he could rest his head on Frank’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. Sitting here with Frank, things with Matt didn’t seem so scary because even if he and Matt never spoke again, he’d still have Frank.

For so long, thinking of Matt had left him angry and sad and helpless. Floundering and at a loss because Dear Abby never covered ‘so your best friend is a vigilante’ in any of her columns.

There was still a little ember of anger over Matt’s outrageous presumption that he had a say in Foggy’s life, his judgement of Frank. An ember that had gotten stoked by Frank’s black eye and the gash across his cheek. Before Frank had come home, Foggy had figured he’d probably call Matt by the end of the week.

Now...

“Not yet,” he said into the quiet. “Maybe after I’ve calmed a little more. And provided he doesn’t hurt you anymore.”

“He can try,” Frank said lightly and Foggy knew he was trying to cheer him up.

“Don’t-“

- hurt him but Foggy knew that was impossible if Matt insisted on attacking. What else could Frank do but defend himself from Matt’s little stick thingies? Foggy reached up, touched a gentle finger to the swell of Frank’s eye and the cut on his cheek.

Matt did that. As if he had any right to interfere with Foggy’s life. As if he had any right to hurt Frank just because Foggy loved him.

“Don’t kill him,” Foggy said, “Don’t hurt him too badly.”

“I won’t, hot shot.”

It was a promise.

God, I'm loving every bit of this. I went back and reread this when I saw this got posted and it was just as good as the first time around.

Wow, thank you! We're entering the final stretch now, I think, so it's good it's still hanging together! :)

op here
man the reunion of matt and foggy did not go off well. I really am enjoying this story

I'm so glad you're still reading! Thank you! That was round one of Matt vs Foggy, there's more to come!

OhMatt. I believe it wasn't your intention to use Foggy only because you needed help but coming up and telling him that afetr you first see him in a year. It's understandable why Foggy reacted the way he did.

And Foggy my Matt. You should've known that Mattt was gonna react liek that. Remember that Matt only knwos teh killer, he doesn't know the person.

You both still screwing up.

Matt does get his say in the next chapter, at least for a little bit! ;)

And yes, Matt and Foggy both fail at communication, even when they're trying extra hard. Poor little fail boats.

Yesss!!!! I have been waiting for their reunion! Went pretty much as well as I thought it would, haha. Love this story so much. I'm always so excited to see an update!

Thank you! Matt finally gets to show up and they immediately get in a fight! :( Poor Matt and poor Foggy!

thank you so much for this fic! i love it also i drew something for chapter 10 for you.. because the thigh fucking was glorious https://67.media.tumblr.com/ce37ff1c65d372ee5609a3d8d6b8dca9/tumblr_o8o39qPR9o1t6neyto1_540.png

OMG author!anon here and I'm pretty sure you just made my year! This is perfect and wonderful and I wish I had the words to explain how happy this made me! Seriously, thank you so much for drawing this!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Artist!anon here. This is one of my fave fics right now and I always check for new parts everyday. Your writing is so good! And the relationship you write feels so natural and not forced at all.

The characters are so well written too! I hope you will post in AO3 so I can bookmark and download this so I can read it whenever I want frank/foggy feels.

You made me ship them. Also I would like to follow you in Tumblr if you have one..
Anyway I am rambling, but again the fic is fantastic!!! 💯

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

(Anonymous) - 2016-06-22 17:51 (UTC) - Expand

It was the first week after what Foggy privately referred to as Matt Attack, mostly because both words had ‘att’ in them and he had to find his amusement in this situation anywhere he could.

He was was stirring the spaghetti sauce and checking on the noodles when Frank came home, having gone out to take Max for a walk while Foggy made dinner.

“Here,” Frank said, pushing a brown bag into Foggy’s hands. Curious, he opened it up.

“Oh, sweet! Lindt truffles, oh man, I love these!”

“Yeah, I got them for you.”

Foggy dumped the bag’s contents on the counter, letting all the delicious treasure spill out.

“Holy shit, three bags? I can eat a bag in a single sitting, did I ever tell you that? I always tell myself to take my time, savor them and then boom! I’ve eaten them all.”

He went over, smacked Frank wetly on the cheek and then gave him a real kiss, Frank’s hands settling at his waist and tugging him close.

“Thanks, Frank. Seriously.”

Frank shrugged, leaning forward to rub his nose along Foggy’s cheek.

“No big deal, hot shot. Just saw them and thought of you.”

Then he leaned back, peered over Foggy’s shoulder.

“Think the noodles are boiling over.”

“Oh shit!”

Foggy managed to save the noodles and they took the spaghetti into the living room to eat.

“You hear from Red?”

“Matt? No, have you? He didn’t try to hurt you again, did he?”

Frank shook his head.

“Haven’t seen hide or hair of him.”

With Matt’s senses, that meant he hadn’t tried to seek him out. If Matt wanted to find Frank for another round of fighting, he could. Hell, all he had to do was stake out Foggy’s place. He hadn’t gone after Frank though, which meant he had probably realized what a shitty thing it was to do in the first place. Matt going after Frank the first time had just been his temper getting the best of him.

Beware the Murdock boys, they have the devil in them.

Matt had told him that once, drunk and slurring, slumped together in their dorm room. Foggy hadn’t understood it back then, had only liked the way it sounded in Matt’s drunken sing-song. Like a nursery rhyme children chanted in the streets.

“Well, I’m still mad at him,” Foggy said, twirling some spaghetti onto his fork. “Right now, I don’t want to hear from him.”

And he was still mad, even if that anger was starting to fade. Even if he was remembering what he had said to Matt, all those months ago when Frank had first popped up in Hell’s Kitchen. Lunatic, murderer, insane. Probably muttered much worse when going over photos of the crime scenes. He had begged Matt to leave Frank to the police because he had believed him to be that dangerous.

Whenever he went another round against Matt to try to get him to stop running around beating up criminals, what was the one thing Matt always fell back on? That he didn’t kill people. He beat them up, he broke their bones but he never killed them. Back then, Foggy felt like that had been a laughably thin line.

And now he was dating a killer.

If Matt was dating somebody like Frank, wouldn’t Foggy be concerned? Granted, Foggy wouldn’t have tried to beat Matt’s significant other up. He probably would have just called the cops, something that would have been far more catastrophic for Foggy if Matt had gone that route.

The cops hadn’t shown up at Foggy’s door so score one for Matt.

What did Foggy score? When all was said and done?

If the Devil was in Matt Murdock and Matt didn’t kill, what did that make Foggy? Who condoned what Frank did, accepted it?

He let his fork drop to his plate with a clatter, shoving his plate away.

“Let me know if he bothers you again,” Foggy said. “I think I’ll take some more time before I talk to him. Still need to sort it out in my head, you know?”

Frank nodded, then went and got him his bag of chocolates to eat. Frank was a good boyfriend. Frank wasn’t just a killer. He was a good man, too.

*

It was the second week after Matt Attack.

Frank was already scrolling through Netflix when Foggy settled down next to him, bowl of popcorn in his hands. Frank gestured to the screen and Foggy glanced over at it. Frank had punched in a search for Mystery Science Theater 3000.

“Pick which one,” Frank said and Foggy blinked.

“You sure?” he asked surprised, “I thought you were tired of them.”

Frank shook his head.

“No, it’s good. We haven’t watched one of these in a while. You’ll have to pick, damn if I can tell from the titles what the movie is about.”

“Oh, Pod People! That one!” Foggy paused, “Although, I know I made you watch a bunch but we really don’t have to. It’s your turn to pick.”

“Nah, Pod People sounds good.”

When they got to the part where Joel and the bots were singing that ridiculous song, Frank snorted and Foggy looked at him curious.

“So that’s where you got that stupid song,” Frank explained, “I was wondering what the hell ‘idiot control now’ was about.”

Foggy laughed, delighted. He had no idea Frank paid any attention to the silly songs he sang to himself around the apartment. They snuggled together on the couch and watched the rest of the movie.

*

It wasn’t until they were settling into bed that Frank asked about Matt.

“I might text him,” Foggy admitted. “He hasn’t done anything to you again.”

Foggy began to fidget.

“I thought maybe, since I’m with you, I could tell him I’m cool with what he does. I really got on his case before, he kept dropping work to do that stuff.”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“I know!” Foggy exclaimed, “But you’re part of my life now and seeing as how Matt tried to beat you up, I feel you get a say.”

It was just so damn complicated. On paper, it seemed like all the problems they had with each other should be solved. Foggy hadn’t agreed with Matt’s vigilantism. That, clearly, was no longer a problem. Foggy was angry Matt wasn’t carrying his weight at work; they no longer shared a practice.

Matt had lied, again, about Elektra after promising Foggy the truth. Then again, it was Elektra. Foggy had long ago come to terms that Matt would always be a little crazy over her. Everybody had that person they got a little crazy over. For a long time that person, for Foggy, had been Matt.

So he got that too and maybe he didn’t like Elektra (or at least the effect she had on Matt, Foggy had never actually met her) but Foggy didn’t have the right to dictate Matt’s life. He never had that right and it was pretty embarrassing to look back on his behavior and realize that was what he had been trying to do.

But that went the other way too. Matt didn’t get to dictate Foggy’s reactions to Matt’s choices, especially when those choices affected him.

Matt’s thinking could be pretty black and white, for all his moving between the legal lines. If Matt declared something right, then it was right. Foggy shouldn’t worry, because Matt Was Right. Foggy wasn’t allowed to be afraid because Matt Was Right.

Foggy wasn’t allowed to disagree because Matt Was Right.

How often had Matt scoffed at Foggy’s concerns? Joked when Foggy was frightened? All those very real fears, like death or prison because Matt was running around taking on criminals in the middle of the night. All those tutted aside like Foggy was being ridiculous. After all, Matt Was Right which meant Foggy Must Be Wrong.

In the end, Matt wouldn’t give an inch and expected Foggy to take the mile off his own convictions.

Just once, Foggy wanted Matt to acknowledge that Foggy’s feelings were legitimate, to validate Foggy’s point of view even if it varied from his own. To treat Foggy like an equal, instead of the bumbling loser just trailing in his wake who couldn’t understand Matt’s great vision.

Maybe that was all he really wanted. For Matt to admit that he had hurt Foggy too.

“I’ll stand by whatever you decide,” Frank said and reached to pull Foggy into his arms before shutting off the lamp.

*

It was the third week after Matt Attack.

“Flowers?” Foggy asked, staring down at the bouquet in Frank’s hands in surprise. It was bright and cheery, filled with yellow, pink and purple blossoms.

“Guy was selling them on the corner.”

It made such an incongruous picture, Frank, so tough and still slightly bruised, cradling a bouquet of flowers in his rough hands. It left Foggy feeling like he was missing something significant, like somewhere along the line he had skipped a beat and that had led to this.

Not that he minded the flowers, it just seemed odd.

Frank began to shift awkwardly and Foggy realized he had been quiet for too long, just staring at Frank and his flowers.

“Oh, hey, I love flowers! Let’s put them in a vase so they last longer.”

His voice was way too loud and he hurried to take the flowers from Frank, turning towards the kitchen and then pausing.

“Shit. I don’t have a vase.”

He racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had that could double as a vase. A bowl wouldn’t work, too shallow. Did he have any empty cans? Oh, wait.

“A ha! I do have a very large beer mug.”

Cousin Sarah had gotten it for him when he passed the bar. She had filled it with M&M’s printed with his picture and he had spent the next week and a half cackling at Matt about devouring his own face. That had pretty much been it for the mug. Who had the time to drink beer out of a fancy beer mug?

He put the flowers on the table and began to rummage through his cabinets until he found it, shoved deep into the back. He rinsed it out in the sink then filled it with clean water before grabbing the bouquet again. Frank was a silent presence at his back.

“Can you get me the scissors?” Foggy asked, focused on unwrapping the plastic from around the flower stems. He held the whole thing over the sink, so as not to make a mess because Frank had a tendency to tut when he did. When Frank handed him the scissors, Foggy began to narrate to fill the silence.

“If you trim the ends, the flowers last longer. Or at least that’s what my mom told me. She loves flowers, so I figure she knows what she’s taking about. My dad always gets her flowers, for her birthday, Mother’s Day. Just because. She was always so happy, it didn’t matter how many times he got them for her. Each time, it was like he had gotten her all the tea in China.”

He could still picture his mother’s pure delight, whether it was a bouquet of roses or simple daisies, bustling to get a vase and fix her flowers up nice. He snipped the endings, turning the bouquet over in his hands to get each stem.

“Cut diagonally,” he added, “They drink more water that way.”

Once he was satisfied that every flower was trimmed, he arranged them in the vase, trying to keep the nice looking structure they had been in. He leaned back a moment, eyeing them critically, plucking here and there until they looked good.

He snapped his fingers and turned to Frank.

“You got a penny?”

Frank furrowed his brow but reached into his pant pocket, rooting around and coming up with a handful of change. Foggy plucked the lone penny from this palm and tossed it into the vase, making sure it fell to the bottom.

“The penny keeps the water fresh.”

Frank smiled at him but it barely seemed to reach his eyes.

“Learn something new every day. You going to keep it in the kitchen?”

“No, no sunlight. Has to be the living room, or the bedroom I guess. You think we can move that little side table by the couch closer the the window? That might look nice.”

They hustled over to the living room and rearranged the furniture a bit until they could place the beer mug/vase in a spot that would get at least some limited sunlight. Frank was still watching him with a strange sort of tension.

“I love these,” Foggy said, putting as much warmth into his voice as he could, “Nobody has ever given me flowers before.”

He reached out, touched a petal of one of the flowers. It was true, Foggy had given plenty of flowers to plenty of people but he had never received any, not even when he had been in the hospital although Marci had given him a Foggy-Bear. He still had it, up high on a shelf because Max had shown far too much interest in it.

Foggy had tended to take care of the people in his life, not the other way around. It was nice, to be cared for.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, “You take good care of me.”

At that, Frank finally seemed to relax, the tense line of his shoulder going loose, the smile sitting easier on his face. On impulse, Foggy crossed the few feet to Frank and gave him a good, hard kiss then he took Frank’s hand and led him into the bedroom.

Dinner could wait.

*

Actually, dinner could only wait so long, especially after their bedroom acrobatics. A few hours later found them devouring curry take-out, Frank in just a pair of sweats, his glorious abs on display. The only reason Foggy had pants and a shirt on was because he was the one who answered the door to the delivery person.

“Nice view,” he leered and Frank just rolled his eyes, tossing Max a piece of chicken.

Foggy’s phone trilled and he put his fork aside to pick it up. Just a reminder he had a meeting tomorrow. He was all set, had gone over everything twice, so no worries about that. Next to him, Frank shifted on the sofa.

“That Red?”

Foggy shook his head.

“No, I haven’t texted him,” Foggy said, thumbing through his messages just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “I should.”

It was only fair, Foggy knew, that he be the one to contact Matt. Matt had tried, even if his attempt had been a miserable failure. All these months, Foggy had wanted Matt to reach out. It was like a wish on a monkey’s paw. He had gotten what he wanted, just in a completely terrible way.

But it was getting time to put this to bed. Months, Foggy had let this drag him down, going through the motions of life but not really feeling anything. He could admit in the quietness of his own mind that he had been depressed and pretty severely too. He wasn’t going to let it happen again and it would be different now, with Frank at his side. Frank made all the difference. With Frank, Foggy knew he could be brave.

If Foggy could come to understand the things Matt did, then surely Matt could come to understand the choices Foggy had made.

“Next week,” Foggy decided. “I’ll text him next week, that should be good, right?”

Frank just shrugged.

*

It was early Saturday afternoon and Foggy was throwing some burritos together when there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Frank said, hip checking Foggy as he went by, Max trailing after. Foggy didn’t even sweat the fact that The Punisher was going to answer the door. Sometimes it felt like Frank had already sunk into legend, a tall tale that showed up in the tabloids. Like he wasn’t even a flesh and blood man anymore so the people of New York never saw him as he moved among them.

He had just finished folding one burrito when he heard Max bark once and then Frank’s voice hushing him. Frowning, he wiped his hands on a towel and went down the hall, more curious than worried.

Frank was a big enough guy but it was strange how he seemed even bigger, blocking the doorway from whoever was on the other side. Max didn’t seem too happy either, standing by Frank’s feet, ears pricked up on high alert.

Over Frank’s shoulder, Foggy could see the scowl on Matt’s face.

Matt.

Of course.

Matt’s face twitched, his body angling slightly so he was facing Foggy over Frank’s shoulder.

“Foggy, I’m here to talk.”

Frank didn’t move, just a solid wall while Foggy studied Matt. He hadn’t gotten around to texting him so this was actually a bit of a surprise, to put it nicely. Was he ready for this? In the end, he guessed it didn’t matter. As ready as he’d ever be, that was the best he would ever manage when it came to Matt.

With a sigh, Foggy placed a hand on the middle of Frank’s back.

“It’s okay,” he said, “He can come in. We probably do need to have this talk.”

For a moment, the muscle under Foggy’s palm stayed like rock and then Frank shifted, turned back to flesh and blood. He stepped back, let Matt through. For a moment, Foggy was going to tell Matt how to get to the living room and then stopped his tongue as Matt made a beeline down the hall. Right, Matt didn’t need Foggy telling him where to go.

He began to follow but pulled up short when he realized Frank was staying by the door, reaching for Max’s harness. Foggy looked at him in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take Max out for a walk, give you a few hours,” Frank muttered, not really looking at him as he kneeled down to snap Max into his harness. Max seemed as unsure as Foggy felt, glancing up at Frank then at Foggy and then down the hall where Matt laid in wait. Foggy bent to give him a reassuring pet around his muzzle.

“Are you sure? I’m fine with you staying.”

Frank shook his head.

“Nah, you and Red need to talk this out. Better if me and Max aren’t here.”

“Well,” Foggy said doubtfully, “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

Frank stood up and stepped towards the open door. Then he stopped, pivoted on his heel and went to Foggy, pulling him in for a kiss. There was a strange undercurrent to it and Foggy opened up, giving as good as he got. Eventually, Frank pulled away, searching Foggy’s face for what, Foggy didn’t know.

Then with one last long unreadable look, Frank was gone, taking Max with him. Foggy stared at the closed door for a few moments, perplexed, before shaking himself. Matt was waiting for him in the living room. No matter how this turned out, it was going to be a harrowing experience.

Taking a deep breath and straightening his spine, Foggy went into the living room where Matt sat. Despite the faces he had made at Frank, Matt was now looking lost and uncertain. As terrible as it sounded, seeing Matt so obviously out of his depths went a long way in calming Foggy. He wasn’t the only one floundering. When Foggy got closer, Matt shifted, turning his face in Foggy’s direction. He still had his glasses on.

“It was an excuse,” Matt blurted out before Foggy could speak. “Asking you about that company, it was an excuse. I just wanted to see you.”

Matt was on the couch so Foggy sat down on the rarely used chair his mother had given to him when he had first moved in. An accent chair, she had called it. She had gotten it from an estate sale. He rubbed his thumb along the seam of the arm.

“You know, I want to say I can’t tell if you’re telling me the truth or not but we went down that road before and I really don’t feel like traveling it again. So you know what? For this conversation, I’m going to assume you’re telling me the truth, which let me tell you, is quite the leap of faith.”

Matt grimaced.

“I deserved that. I am telling you the truth, I swear. I’ll only tell you the truth.”

For a moment, Foggy was tempted to say Matt had promised that before but no. There was no point in coming out swinging, not if he actually wanted to make some sort of damn progress. Matt took his silence as acquiescence.

“I thought if I came to you for information, you’d have to talk to me again. Then it wouldn’t just be a one time thing. You’d have to get back to me about any thing you found and then I could come up with another reason to talk again.”

Foggy snorted.

“What, like make an appointment to see me? The sad thing is you are so emotionally constipated that I can buy that being your line of reasoning,” Foggy blew out a breath, “I really want to believe you. It’s just that you had all this time to come see me, call me, text me. And now you’re so desperate to see me, you need to lie about it?”

“I missed you, the whole time. I kept telling myself it was for the best for me to stay away but in the end, Foggy, I couldn’t do it. I just want us to be friends again.”

Saint Matthew, martyring himself on the cross. Such a Matt thing to do. Moving forward, Foggy thought. Right, but maybe they needed to lance some wounds first, get out anything that festered.

“It seemed real easy for you, before. Even before we closed Nelson & Murdock, it was like you had checked out. I was just the guy you worked with and barely, at that. Everything else was more important than me.”

For a moment, Foggy was back in those days, Matt pulling further and further away from him and seemingly not giving a single solitary fuck at fixing their friendship. Foggy feeling like he was desperately chasing after the shadow of their relationship while Matt parkoured the fuck out while flashing double peace signs.

“It was like the moment I learned about the Man in the Mask, you didn’t have to keep pretending to be my friend for the cover.”

Foggy couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice and didn’t really try. Before, he had pretended things didn’t hurt, bottled it up until it exploded and damaged them both with the shrapnel. Matt hadn’t been the only liar in the relationship, Foggy had just lied in different ways. He was coming to grips with that.

“Foggy, I swear it wasn’t like that. Our friendship is real, I’m so sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

“I waited in that hospital,” Foggy said, “I waited and waited and waited and you never showed up.”

“I was on the roof, I was listening, Foggy. I swear.”

“What good did that do me?”

Foggy broke off, blowing out a breath because his voice had been dangerously close to cracking. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to hurt over this anymore but he knew that was impossible. This was going to hurt, no matter what.

“You know what I think hurt me the most? That you never took me seriously. That you acted like my concern, my fears, were stupid and unimportant. I was unimportant. I found you passed out and bleeding twice, twice, Matt! And both times I was there for you. You couldn’t even visit me in the hospital once.”

“I was there-“

“No, Matt, you weren’t. Not at the hospital, not at work, not in our friendship.”

Matt sucked in a deep breath and Foggy could see he was getting frustrated.

“I’m not saying this to be mean,” Foggy said quietly and was a little surprised to realize he meant it. “I’m saying it because it’s been inside me all this time, poisoning me. I bit my tongue too much and ran my mouth about other things. I’m not saying it was all you but it sure as hell wasn’t all me.”

And that fact was important to Foggy. When Matt had no problem at all dropping him, it had struck a near fatal blow. For years he had defined himself as Matt’s friend, had placed such an importance on their friendship, too much importance really but it had seemed okay at the time because he was convinced he was just as important to Matt.

When Matt ended their friendship, it had thrown everything Foggy had thought he had known into question. He had wondered if it was all his fault, if he couldn’t have been more supportive, if he had asked for too much.

On the really dark days, he had thought about begging Matt to take him back, throwing away his self-respect and groveling.

Now, he hoped he understood better. It wasn’t all his fault. It wasn’t all Matt’s fault. They both hurt each other and in the end, they could only be responsible for their own behavior.

“The city needed me, Foggy, and I fucked up balancing everything. I thought I could keep everything and I put you on the back burner because I thought you’d always be there. I took you for granted and I’m sorry for that every day. Then, when everything went to hell, I thought ending our friendship was the best thing for you. I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“You lied to me.”

“I lied to keep you safe,” Matt insisted and Foggy hissed out a breath between his teeth.

“You lied to keep yourself safe. You lied so you wouldn’t have to bother with ugly truths,” he said, “Matt, you keep saying you did all this stuff for me. You didn’t. You did this for yourself. Just admit it.”

“It wasn’t for me,” Matt protested, “I help people, Hell’s Kitchen needs me-“

“We aren’t talking about Hell’s Kitchen or ninjas or drug runners. We’re just talking about you and me. I think if we had done that in the beginning, no bullshit from either of us, we wouldn’t have found ourselves like this, now.”

“I was in the wrong, too,” Foggy reminded him, “I kept harping on you and maybe you made some shitty decisions, but they were your decisions to make. I’d agree to go along with your shitty decisions and then kick up a fuss. I should have picked one or the other.”

And that was true, no matter how ugly it tasted on Foggy’s tongue. In the end, Foggy was the one who let Matt convince him, who let Matt dismiss his feelings, who put up with Matt’s lies over and over again. After the hundredth time, Matt had pretty much proven just in what direction his decisions would go.

Foggy just kept butting his head against the wall and then blamed Matt for the concussion.

“Please, Matt,” Foggy said softly. Matt twisted his hands together, pressing his lips together against what Foggy assumed was another automatic denial. He was looking down and it was quiet, at least for Foggy and he wondered what this moment sounded like to Matt. Their thundering heartbeats, the air in their lungs, just what was the world to Matt Murdock?

Finally, Matt looked up in Foggy’s direction.

“It was easier to lie to you because you were always questioning me,” he said simply. “I knew you were worried about me and I felt bad. So if you didn’t know, you didn’t worry and I didn’t feel guilty. I kept telling myself you didn’t understand so lying to you was acceptable. When you got shot, I didn’t even want to think about it. I threw myself into finding who did it so I didn’t have to think of you bleeding on the floor. I sat on the roof and told myself it was to keep you safe when the truth was I didn’t want to face you.”

Matt took a deep breath.

“If I faced you, I’d have to admit just how selfish I had been.”

They both took a moment to let the words sink in. Everything about Matt screamed sincerity and in this moment, Foggy chose to believe. No doubts, no mistrust. It was time for faith.

“Thank you,” Foggy said, “For a long time, I felt like it was all my fault. That if I had been a better friend, things would have worked out. It fucked me up for a long time, Matt. Hearing you say all that, it goes a long way. We were both to blame.”

“I am sorry,” Matt said softly, “You were the best friend I ever had and I’d do anything to get that back again.”

Foggy nodded, made a point not to narrate his actions. Matt didn’t need that; it was time Foggy accepted all that Matt and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen could do.

“Do you remember when you said we could find a way to move forward?”

Matt nodded, looking cautious.

“But then we didn’t. We just spun in place, pretending we were still the same guys we had been at Columbia. That we had the same relationship. And that was the problem, Matt. We don’t even know each other anymore.”

“Foggy, that’s not true, you know me better than anyone.“

Foggy held up a hand.

“I’m holding up my hand and I had to work really hard not tell you what I was doing,” he said, “You don’t need me to do that. I keep wanting to fall back into old patterns with you but that would be a lie. We have to admit that we don’t know each other anymore.”

Matt looked so unhappy that Foggy felt his heart twist in his chest. Could Matt hear that? Or was it just pure emotion, deep enough that it felt like a physical response? Either way, it compelled Foggy to say,

“But, maybe we can get to know each other all over again. We aren’t working together so we can just focus on being friends instead of business partners. How does that sound?”

Foggy had done a lot of thinking, this past month and had come to the conclusion that they couldn’t save their friendship. That friendship was dead, had died the moment Matt had been unmasked. They had tried to continue with it’s shambling corpse and they both saw how well that had turned out.

They had to give up the ghost on what they had. Only then could they rebuild something new and different. Maybe they could create something that would work.

The smile Matt gave him, tremulous and shy. God, Foggy had missed him so much, the dumb, stupid bastard. Before, Foggy would have reached out and hugged him, ruffled his hair, punched his shoulder. Now, Foggy didn’t make a move to touch him. They were a long ways from easy affection but maybe someday.

“That sounds good,” Matt said, his voice warm, “More than I hoped for, really.”

“Hope’s a funny thing but I’m hopeful too. I missed you Matt and I’d really like you back in my life.”

Matt was still smiling and Foggy was smiling back. The ground under their feet was still shaky but at least it was there.

“I mean, clearly, I am no longer against vigilantism,” Foggy joked. “Can’t get mad at you about that when my boyfriend does the same thing.”

Matt twitched.

In movies, when something bad was about to happen, foreboding music began to play. That’s how you knew the serial killer in the closet was about to jump out, the car was about to crash or the giant shark was about to drag someone under the water.

Foggy began to hear that music.

Author!Anon here!

Just wanted to mention that a very kind and very talented nonny drew this from chapter 10 (NSFW) : https://67.media.tumblr.com/ce37ff1c65d372ee5609a3d8d6b8dca9/tumblr_o8o39qPR9o1t6neyto1_540.png

just in case you missed it in the comments!

Isn't it beautiful?

I just want to thank nonny again for their amazing artwork.

NOOOOOOOOOOO you can't end on that cliffhanger!!!!!!

Ugh, Matt, WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!

I liked that those nice gestures like the chocolates and flowers from Frank maybe betrayed his nerves and fear that Foggy would leave him for Matt :p
I love how you made him like such a sweetheart here :)

Frank was nervous around Foggy. Something must have happened between him and Matt the past weeks.

Matt of cpurse will disaprove of Foggy's parter choices but it's ultimately Foggy's desicions who he fucks with.

I'm glad they are gonna try to work things out but they still have along way to go

op here
i love that frank bought foggy flowers that is so sweet
and i'm glad that things are starting to patch up between foggy and matt

Don't listen to that anon that hates your foggy! I LOVE LOVE LOVE your foggy! and i love your fic! and i love everything about your writing!!

this is my favourite fic! and i love checking and re-reading everything!!!!

thank you so much for the update!

It'd be very very wonderful to see Foggy get hurt/kidnapped whatever and then Frank and Matt putting aside their differences to go get him

“What Frank does and what I do are two completely different things,” Matt said flatly, obvious edge to his voice.

The atmosphere of the room changed, going from emotional but hopeful to dark and heavy. Like it was going to rain, on those days when the skies just opened up and water poured down in sheets. Foggy was suddenly, abruptly, grateful that Frank had taken Max out. There was no way the tension in the room wouldn’t have set him off.

“Agree to disagree,” Foggy said and heard the coldness in his own voice. Matt snorted.

“It’s not that easy, Foggy.”

“Why not?” Foggy asked, “I won’t interfere with what you do, you don’t interfere with what I do. Seems simple.”

After Frank was arrested, Matt had always been so sympathetic. Insisting they take his case, that they defend him with everything in their power. Of course, he hadn’t followed through on any of that. That had been Foggy, left to panic in a packed courtroom until he reached deep inside himself and found an opening statement that put him in Frank’s shoes for the first time.

It was Matt’s failures that made Foggy put aside his own personal feelings, forced him to look behind the monster in the news to see the man behind it. A wounded, injured man, mistreated by the very people sworn to protect him and his family. Foggy hadn’t wanted to understand Frank Castle, not until he had to.

He hadn’t been okay with Frank then, not even when he was trying to get his charges reduced. Trying to get him the medical help he needed instead of a life sentence or worse. But it had been the first shaky step on a road that would eventually lead him to where he was now.

“Frank Castle kills people. You’ve seen the crime scenes.”

“He kills people who would just go on to hurt more people if he didn’t stop them.”

“Are you tell me you’re okay with this?” Matt said, sounding incredulous. “With him being judge, jury and executioner?”

“Careful, Matt. Your hypocrisy is showing. How many times have you insisted you have the right to be judge and jury?”

“But not executioner, Foggy. These people deserve a fair trial.”

“A fair trial? Like the one Frank got, with the DA’s office pulling strings behind the scene? Faking evidence, lying, breaking the law for their own selfish gain? The system is broken, you’re the one who showed me that. I thought you’d be happy that I finally understood!”

“If you think this is what I stand for, you don’t understand at all!”

"Maybe this isn't about you! Ever consider that? That the center of my universe isn't you? Maybe this is about me bleeding on the floor from a goddamned bullet wound. Maybe this is about the fact that I watched a woman die and Frank made sure the man who killed her would never hurt anybody again! The man who shot me isn't out there anymore, Matt! Frank gave me that."

All those sleepless nights, his shoulder aching no matter what position he took on the bed, twisting and turning to no avail. But falling asleep was always so much worse, DA Reyes’ corpse reanimating in his dreams to demand to know why Foggy hadn’t saved her.

"Foggy..." Matt trailed off, looking startled and then sad. "Foggy, I wouldn't have let anything happened to you. I would have taken The Blacksmith down before he could hurt you."

"I got shot, Matt. Something did happen to me. He did hurt me."

"I meant, after that. If you had told me you were so afraid, I would have told you I'd keep you safe."

"When could I have told you that?" Foggy demanded, "When you ran out on me before they even put me in the ambulance? When I was lying in a hospital bed all alone? When I waited for you, hour after hour, to show the slightest bit of concern? Maybe I should have left you a voicemail: Dear Matt, am currently terrified and sure could use a friend."

"You said you were okay," Matt said and it sounded desperate.

"I said a lot of things and ends up? I'm a liar, just like you."

The room fell silent, the bits of Matt's face Foggy could see making odd contortions. Like he was struggling with what he was hearing and wasn't that a hoot. Matt was fucking shocked that getting shot tended to terrify people. Change people. Something even Frank understood.

Frank who still kissed Foggy’s bullet scar whenever Foggy’s shirt came off, who pressed rough fingers to the edges with a gentle touch no matter how often Foggy told him it didn’t really hurt, not anymore.

"But this isn't about me, is it?" Foggy said, tone mocking but he didn’t even know if he was mocking Matt or himself, “With you, it's rarely about me. This is about Frank."

Matt swallowed like he was tasting something bitter.

"He's a killer, Foggy."

“You protect people, Frank protects people,” Foggy said, ticking it off on his fingers, “You go after criminals, Frank goes after criminals. You stop crime, Frank stops crime.”

"Frank mows people down in a hail of bullets."

"You throw people off buildings."

"I've never killed anyone."

“That you know of.”

“I haven’t.”

“Well, Frank’s never killed an innocent person.”

Foggy could go like this all day, batting back answers to anything Matt could throw out, counter to any of Matt's arguments. It was actually turning into an advantage, the fact that Matt was a vigilanting jack-ass. Most of the things he could protest about Frank, he was just as guilty of.

Matt made a gesture of frustration, one hand knifing through the air.

“Fine, I won’t try to convince you that what Frank does is wrong, you clearly don’t want to hear it."

It was just as clearly implied that Foggy was being childish not to listen to Matt. That Matt, of course, was right again and Foggy was wrong, wrong, wrong. Foggy was getting real tired of Matt telling him he was wrong.

It was with a sense of exhilaration that Foggy realized that this might actually be the first time he had ever told Matt no about something important. Leave L&Z? Sure. Open their own practice and only take clients who can’t pay? Yeah, why not? Take the Frank Castle case? If you say so, buddy.

Matt had never had to work very hard to convince Foggy to his way of thinking so now that it mattered, he didn’t know how. It clicked for Foggy suddenly; no wonder their friendship hadn’t survived the unmasking. It never occurred to Matt that Foggy could say no and mean it so he never bothered to meet Foggy half way.

After all, up to that point, Foggy had always fallen in line with a minimum of fuss.

"But Foggy, do you really think being with him, like this, is safe? He’ll bring hell down on your head, either from the cops or some other criminals that follow him home.”

“You think I haven’t had this exact talk with Frank? I know all of this, I know exactly what Frank gets up to. Frank never lied to me.”

“Bullshit, Foggy, don’t bring that up again, I lied to keep you safe-“

“You still with Karen?” Foggy snapped and Matt cut off abruptly, looking like he just gotten slapped.

“Karen and I are-“

“Are what? None of my business? Exactly like me and Frank so it makes you a giant hypocrite to try to break us up? What is it, Matt? Hmm?”

Matt just gaped uselessly, mouth opening and closing without a sound. Yeah, Foggy had him on the ropes, Matt never could defend himself from an inconvenient and ugly truth.

And god, it had hurt. Knowing Matt had no problem putting in the effort to win Karen over, to try with her, to give her his time and his trust. Foggy never expected Matt to love Foggy back the way Foggy had loved him. But he had at least thought Matt loved him like a brother and he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Matt hadn’t loved him at all.

“Honestly, this is pretty shitty of you anyway, all things considered. I know we don’t talk about it but fuck, Matt. You have to understand what this is like for me.”

Matt pulled back, looking confused.

“What are you talking about?” he asked and Foggy groaned.

“Don’t make me say it,” he pleaded, getting to his feet and pacing. He couldn’t sit still, emotions tumbling inside of him hard enough he could feel it in his bones. Why had he opened his mouth, dragging them down this path they had so successfully avoided until now?

He should have kept after Matt and his nocturnal activities, worn him down until he conceded. Not this. He hadn’t been thinking, just a reaction to another of Matt’s transgressions when it came to Foggy.

“Say what, Foggy? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Matt got up too, just as agitated as Foggy, the slant of his eyebrows showing confusion, the pull of his mouth, bewilderment. God, Matt was just bringing an Oscar winning performance to the table, wasn’t he?

Then again, Matt had always been a better liar than Foggy thought.

“You know,” he said, voice bitter. “Don’t fuck with me, Matt. Not about this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Give me a clue here, because I’m at a loss.”

“The fact that I loved you!” Foggy shouted and Matt stumbled back, collapsing back on the couch like a puppet with its strings cut. His mouth opened and closed silently, face deathly pale.

“Oh come on,” Foggy said into the quiet. “Quit acting like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t, Foggy,” Matt said, hoarse, and certainly didn’t look like he was lying. He was white as a sheet and the lines around his mouth were strained. He looked the way Foggy had felt, when he had lifted the mask and found Matt underneath.

“But you said-,” Foggy broke off because Matt had never actually said it. Foggy had assumed, what with all the heartbeat stuff, the world on fire. Matt knowing things he shouldn’t.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Foggy began to laugh, it sounded horrible and felt horrible, tearing out his chest like it was making him bleed. Matt didn’t say a word, just let that horrible laugh fill the room until it finally petered out. Foggy sat back down on the chair, pressing one hand over his chest as if he could stop his heart.

“You shouldn’t be able to do this to me,” Foggy said, raw, “I want to live a life where you can’t hurt me anymore.”

Matt flinched hard, and Foggy was certain that if Matt had bothered to take off his glasses, his eyes would probably be wet with tears. Foggy didn’t have that protection, his eyes were wet and spilling and he wiped at his face with an angry hand.

What did tears smell like to Matt? What did Foggy’s tears smell like to Matt, when he was the one who caused them?

“So you see,” Foggy said heavily, “Why I might not want your input on my love life now that I’ve finally gotten over you.”

“Fogg-“

“So you see,” he said a little louder, “Why I might be upset at you setting up house with Karen while telling me I don’t get my own happy ending.”

“That isn’t-“

“So you see,” he shouted, “Why I get to decide who I love now!”

Matt still looked shaky, skin pale except for red blotches high on his cheeks and for a moment Foggy thought maybe he had gotten through. That Matt would gracefully bow out, agree to disagree or what the fuck ever, just as long as they never argued about this again.

Never talked about this again and just buried it deep where it belonged, with all the other dead things.

Then Matt swallowed, he straightened his shoulders, his jaw firmed. That look, that fucking look that used to get Foggy's heart racing when he saw it in the courtroom because it meant Matt was going to come out swinging and when Matt swung, he rarely missed.

Now it was trained on Foggy and Foggy braced himself for impact.

“Be that as it may,” he said, voice calm and professional, “Frank is still bad news.”

Be that as it may, Foggy mouthed silently. Foggy’s love just a blip in the path of Matt’s righteous mission, barely worth comment. It was a blow, no lie, to have his love so casually dismissed.

But that was all Matt, wasn't it? Casual dismissal of everything Foggy was.

“You need to leave him, Foggy, before he gets you killed.”

“Is that why you left me?” Foggy asked and Matt sucked in a breath. “Were you going to get me killed? How about all those months when you were the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and I was the sap who didn’t know? How safe was I then?”

“I did what I did because it was best for you.”

“Well, I’m doing what’s best for me.”

“Foggy, I understand, I get it. When Nelson & Murdock shut down and I stepped away from our friendship-

“Stepped away?” Foggy interjected, “Is that what you’re calling it?”

Matt ignored him and forged on, weaving around Foggy’s words as if what Foggy had to say didn’t matter.

“-from our friendship, you were clearly left hurting. And I don’t know how Frank managed to work his way into your life but-“

“Worked his way into my life? He isn’t some parasite. I welcomed him.”

“He clearly took advantage-“

“Advantage? So now I’m just a fucking idiot-“

“He’s using you, Foggy! You were vulnerable and you latched on the first person to come along-“

“I can’t believe the ego on you! You think just because I loved you when you didn’t love me that it broke me for good?”

“Stop- Stop saying that-“

“What? That I loved you? Is it that horrifying?”

“I can’t deal with it, Foggy!” Matt shouted, whipping his glasses off, blind eyes staring vaguely in Foggy’s direction, “I can’t, okay? I can’t!”

“I dealt with it for years.”

The weight of those words, heavy and cruel in Foggy's mouth.

This, this, Foggy thought, breathing hard. This is the ending they should have had, nothing adult and mature, no quiet conversation while going their separate ways. Screaming and crying, yelling and rage. A bang, instead of a whimper.

They were two boxers in the ring, circling each other and exchanging blows. Foggy had a weak spot now; he would exploit it.

“Was I supposed to curl up and die because you didn’t love me? Just how weak do you think I am?”

"You keep twisting everything I say-"

"You keep saying shitty things-"

They were talking over each other, rapid fire and Foggy wasn't even sure exactly what he was saying. He didn't need to. Just as long as it hurt Matt, that was all his words needed to do.

It was funny, in a sick, sad, way. He had honestly been ready to forgive Matt everything, the lies, the broken promises, the complete and utter disregard of Foggy as a human being. He had thought they could move on, become friends again, find a little sliver of that relationship Foggy had thought they had both cherished.

But Frank's name in Matt's mouth threw that all out the window.

No forgiveness here, no mercy. He took all his pain, his anger, his hurt and he turned it into a weapon. He pummeled at Matt, gave as good as he got, dragged up every last bit of resentment from every broken promise Matt had ever made.

“This is hilarious,” he spat, “You think the love I have for Frank is damaging, is bad for me. What about my love for you? You treated me like shit, for days, for weeks, for months. I forgave you. You lied to me for years and put me in danger. I forgave you. You got me shot and didn't even bother to see me in the hospital. And I forgave you.”

He began to laugh again.

They were back on their feet, facing off, Matt’s face naked without his glasses. Now Foggy could see every twitch in his expression, the narrowing of his eyes, the flinches and the blinks. Both of them bare, finally. Exposed.

“You threw me away like trash. You never contacted me even though you had the time to go back to Karen, you only come back now because it’s something you need. And I was going to forgive you again, fall on my fucking sword just to have my friend back in my life. And you know why? Because I loved you, Matt. All that shit, all that fucked up, messed up shit you put me through - I put up with it because I loved you.”

“Don’t-“

“I don’t even mean it romantically! I gave up on that love a long time ago but I still loved you. As a friend, as a person I cared about, I loved you.”

Matt had nothing to say, only stood under Foggy’s onslaught, silent. Even when they fought about Matt being Daredevil, Foggy had always held back, terrified of losing Matt. Unwilling to go to bat, to really let loose, to shove Matt into a corner and see if he could fight his way back out.

He had come close the day Matt had gotten shot and Foggy found him unconscious on a rooftop. His control hanging on by a thread because he had been so afraid, so panicked. So convinced that Matt was going to die doing this shit.

So really, this was a first for Matt. Maybe the Devil was in the Murdock boys but this Murdock boy had never seen Foggy go to war. Matt was unprepared.

“And I- I do love you, Foggy, as a friend-“

“No, you don’t. I don’t think you ever did. All you ever did was use me.”

Matt was the blind one, right? All the years that Foggy had known him, Matt was the blind one and Foggy the guy who could see. But Foggy had been wrong. Matt could always see and Foggy was the one bumbling in the dark.

Foggy had been convinced that what they shared between them was some form of love.

And yet, it wasn’t all of Matt’s fuck ups that showed him the truth. That was Frank, who loved Foggy, who treated Foggy like an equal, who left every door of his life open just in case Foggy wanted to step through. Who trusted Foggy, who believed in Foggy and never made Foggy feel inadequate.

“It’s funny,” he said, “Our friendship ended because I couldn’t accept you for what you were. And now our friendship can’t get started because you can’t accept me for who I love.”

“You don’t love him,” Matt gritted out, “You can’t. Do you honestly think a man like Frank Castle is capable of love? Do you honestly think he could love somebody like you?”

“Just because you never loved me, doesn’t mean nobody could.”

"That's not what I'm saying, Foggy! If you would just listen to reason-"

"Oh of course, the Great Matthew Murdock come down from on high to bless me with his wisdom. You always did know best, didn't you?" Foggy sneered, triumphant when Matt took the hits with ill grace.

They were in each other’s faces, screaming, and Matt grabbed Foggy upper arms, his fingers digging into Foggy’s skin, nails biting into flesh. Foggy knocked his hands away because the only person allowed to leave bruises on him was Frank. Frank taught him that move, taught him how to take care of himself, instead of leaving him in the dark and hoping for the best.

Matt flailed just as he had all those months ago at the courthouse, obviously holding back what he could do. If he wanted, he could have Foggy down for the count but again, Matt treated Foggy with kid gloves. And it was stupid, really, to want to get his ass kicked but the thought was in his head. If Matt actually took him out, then maybe Matt was actually seeing him as an equal. Not someone to be condescended to, to be scolded like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

Instead, he got this. Matt’s hands slipping across Foggy’s arms, Foggy knocking at him with his elbows with ease. Matt trying to hold on, for the first time in years when before it was Foggy who clung.

"Fuck you, Foggy, I'm trying to save you here. This could only end badly for you! You have to see that!"

"It might," Foggy said, "It might and I don't care if it kills me. Frank is worth dying for. I love him that much."

Matt actually recoiled at that, like it was a physical blow, hands slipping off of Foggy’s skin, palms dragging. It took a moment for Foggy to make the connection.

"Oh," he said, "You can tell when I'm telling the truth. That's right. What is my heartbeat telling you now, Matt?"

Matt didn't answer, simply turned his head away from Foggy, eyes squeezed shut. Like it hurt for him to hear it. But Foggy was far past the point of no return.

“I loved you,” Foggy said, voice steady in a way he hadn’t thought possible. There had been years where he dreamed of saying that to Matt and in his fantasies, his voice shook. Reality always was a sucker punch.

“I loved you then,” he repeated, “But I love Frank now. And if you aren’t cool with that, then I don’t need you in my life.”

He stepped back from Matt, put even more distance between them.

“This conversation is done. You should go now,” he said quietly. He watched as Matt wiped carefully at his own face, watched as he slipped his glass back on. Watched as Matt shook out his cane and let it hang loose at his side. He followed Matt down the hall and watched him go out the front door.

Guess he wasn’t done watching Matt leave but this time, all he felt was relief.

*

The moment Frank was through the door, Foggy was on him.

“Fuck me,” Foggy demanded, biting kisses onto Frank’s mouth, “Fuck me, Frank.”

“Yeah, hot shot,” Frank said voice so low and deep Foggy could feel it in his bones, “I will, you just gotta show me how.”

Frank dropped Max's leash, where it slipped to the ground unnoticed by either of them, too focused on each other.

They made their way down the hall, tearing at each other's clothing. Foggy pulling Frank's shirt out from the waist of his pants and yanking it over his head. Frank did the same to Foggy, nearly ripping his t-shirt in his eagerness to get it off.

They left the clothes were they fell, unheedful of the mess they were making, just kissing, biting, clawing their way down the hall, stopping far too often to press against the wall to make out. They were naked by the time they made it into the bedroom, Foggy kissing and biting every bit of Frank he could reach.

He walked Frank backwards until the back of Frank’s legs hit the bed. With one last biting kiss, Foggy shoved Frank hard enough that he fell back, bouncing down onto the mattress as Foggy crawled up after him. Working their way to the middle of the bed, groping at each other, leaving red scours from fingernails in their wake.

Foggy got to his knees, straddling Frank’s stomach, stretching out to fumble open the drawer that held the lube, flourishing it triumphantly when he got it.

Foggy slicked his fingers and reached back, shoving two inside him without hesitation. Frank was watching him with dark eyes, his lips parted. He didn’t say a word, just rubbed his hands up and down Foggy’s sides, scraping his thumbnails across Foggy’s nipples.

Foggy was panting as he twisted his fingers inside of himself, pulling off only to add more lube, to get himself slick. Worked himself open as quickly as he could because the need rising in his belly would accept nothing else.

Months building to this moment and it was really no surprise Matt was the catalyst. Their entire relationship had been built in all the empty spaces Matt had left behind and Frank had filled those spaces, made Foggy whole and showed him how to stand on his own two feet. Let Foggy be his own man. Let Foggy love him and loved him in return.

He had three fingers in and flexed them deep before pulling out. He got more lube again but this time he stroked Frank’s cock, getting it nice and slick. The angle was a bit awkward but he managed, wiping his wet fingers on the bed sheet when he was done. He shifted back, until Frank’s cock nudged against his ass, causing both of them to shiver.

He hadn’t done nearly enough prep and they both knew it but Frank didn’t say a word, only rubbed his palms along Foggy’s thighs. Because Frank trusted Foggy to know what he wanted, trusted him to know his own limits. Frank trusted him. Frank didn’t lie to him, didn’t treat him like a fool.

He reached back, steadied the base of Frank’s cock and sunk all the way down.

He didn’t know what was louder, his moan or Frank’s groan, didn’t care as the burn ran through him. Frank was thick and hard inside him, Foggy’s rim pulsing from the stretch. It hurt, it felt good, it felt like exactly what he needed.

Frank’s head was tipped back, the cords of his neck in sharp relief and Foggy leaned forward, planting his hands on Frank’s shoulders and began to fuck himself up and down, a dirty, fast rhythm. No hesitation, no build up, just good hard fucking. Frank’s eyes fluttered open and his hands came up to wrap around Foggy’s wrists, anchoring him.

Foggy blinked the sweat out of his eyes because he wasn’t about to let go. They locked eyes, Frank’s pupils blown to hell. Foggy was sure his were no better.

“Yeah, hot shot, give it to me.”

Foggy whined high in his throat because it wasn’t often he got Frank’s dirty talk. Frank tended to a few choice curse words, half-bitten noises and groans.

“You’re gorgeous like this, was wondering how you’d take my cock, like a fucking pro, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Foggy could come like this, not very often and it was usually more work than it was worth, but he could come without anyone touching his dick. So he kept going, letting that fat cock pummel him, he was going to feel it in his thighs later but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the pleasure burning in his blood, swallowing him up.

All that mattered was the big, fat, cock splitting him open. All that mattered was Frank beneath him, letting Foggy take what he needed.

They were both too riled up for it to last long. Frank came first, hands clenching on Foggy's hips as Frank drove up, his cock as deep as it could get. Foggy could feel it, Frank's cock pulsing as he came, filling Foggy up and Foggy ground down as hard as he could.

Frank's fingers digging into his skin, the bright spots of pleasure/pain all over his body where Frank had bitten and nipped and scratched. All the places Foggy had taken and taken because Frank was his to take.

Foggy was silent when he came, clenched around Frank's thick cock, his own cock jerking wildly against his belly. Frank was groaning loudly, muttering under his breath as Foggy's come splattered against his skin.

Foggy collapsed on top of him and Frank took his weight easily, his arms wrapping around his waist to keep him there. They stayed like that for a long time, long past it becoming uncomfortable, Frank's cock slipping from Foggy's body, another beautiful ache.

Eventually though, Frank shifted and Foggy groaned, heaving himself off of Frank to fall heavily by his side. Frank immediately put a hand on his stomach, threw a leg over his, as if even this amount of distance was too much.

Foggy nuzzled at Frank’s shoulder and was just considering taking a nap when Frank spoke.

“I thought-“ Frank broke off, his voice rough, “I thought maybe when I came back, we’d be through.”

“What?”

Foggy sat up, twisting a bit but Frank wouldn’t look at him.

“Red, you’ve known him for years. He was your best friend, you said. And he’s right, you know. I’m no good for you. I figured you’d choose him.”

“Jesus Christ, Frank,” Foggy breathed. That look Frank had given him as he left. He thought that would be the last time they would be together.

“Since you told me he came to see you, I figured I was on borrowed time.”

The past month began to flash behind his eyes, Frank giving him his favorite chocolates, letting him watch his favorite movies. Those flowers Foggy had smiled at every morning as they slowly wilted.

Frank had been trying to keep him.

“I love you.”

It fell out of Foggy’s mouth because he meant it, because it was true. Because somehow he had told it to Matt before he had ever said it to Frank. He loved Frank, with his rough, bloody hands and his soft, gentle mouth. The killer he had to hide, the man who held his hand when they walked their dog.

Every fucked up bit of Frank, Foggy loved.

I’m in a bit of a rush so I just wanted to say thanks for all the comments!

AAAAAAAAAHHH!!! Very good. Looooved this part! This is my favorite ongoing story and I check on it constantly. <3

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(Anonymous) - 2016-08-02 15:18 (UTC) - Expand

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(Anonymous) - 2016-08-03 20:34 (UTC) - Expand

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(Anonymous) - 2016-08-03 22:56 (UTC) - Expand

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(Anonymous) - 2016-08-07 09:45 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(Anonymous) - 2016-08-02 02:28 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 11/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 12/?, Foggy/Frank

[FILL] A Dog's Life, 13/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 13/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 13/?, Foggy/Frank, sex

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture

(frozen comment) Re: [FILL] A Dog's Life, 14/14, Foggy/Frank, torture