(i ain't never written porn before jesus take the wheel)
Foggy led Matt out onto the street, pulling him in the direction of their dorm. Matt knew he should thank Foggy, keep his story going, but he didn't have the energy. He felt tired and disappointed in a strange way, so he just let Foggy pull him along in silence. Foggy must have noticed something was off, because when he started talking it had the cadence of an apology.
"I hope it was okay that I, uh, pretend claimed you back there."
Matt snorted, still feeling a little drunk. "Yeah, 'course it was." He forced a smile. "Thanks, man."
"Yeah, no problem." Foggy seemed relieved. "I just," he paused, "I can't stand to see you get hurt, yanno?"
Matt...felt a little warm, which was unexpected. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wouldn't ruin his and Foggy's friendly dynamic with his neediness. It wasn't fair to Foggy to offer himself like he did to that girl at the party, like he did so many other nights to other strangers. And Foggy didn't want him like that, anyway, so it didn't matter.
Foggy's thumb brushed absent circles in Matt's bicep on the walk home, and Matt found himself relaxing into the touch. He hadn't been paying all that much attention to where they were walking, letting Foggy lead him, and when they reached their dorm he felt a little gypped, wishing they could keep going a little longer, wishing he could feel safe like this for a little longer.
When they'd made their way up the stairs and through the hallway to their dorm, Matt wanted nothing else but to go immediately to sleep. Foggy unlocked the door and he went to his dresser, shrugging out of his sweaty t-shirt and jeans and throwing on sweatpants, not bothering to put on a shirt. Without saying a word, he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fell into bed, facing the wall.
He knew Foggy was looking at him, knew he wanted to say something, but wasn't. He let it hang there, the tension of not speaking, until Foggy finally broke it.
"Hey, are you sure you're alright dude?" Foggy asked, clearing his throat.
Matt considered telling him that no, he felt empty and relieved and frustrated all at once, abandonment issues bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe it was the beer or maybe he'd reached his limit on lying to Foggy, but when he spoke he was vaguely surprised he was even saying this much. "I'm... I dunno, honestly."
He sensed Foggy frown, worried. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Matt paused. "Not really," he said honestly. "I wouldn't know where to start. I just--I need validation, I guess, if that makes any sense." He couldn't explain why he was saying it, but the more he talked the easier it was to just let the words fall out. "I keep looking for people who--like that girl, I guess--who make me feel less alone. Never really helps the way I want it to."
Foggy was quiet for a moment, then, "Let me help."
Matt's heart beat faster. "What do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He concentrated on Foggy--his heartbeat was even, sure. Matt swallowed.
In lieu of a response, Foggy stood, and Matt pushed himself up to sit leaning against his headboard. Foggy crossed the room to stand above Matt, then reached a hand out to tilt Matt's chin up, kissing him softly.
"Let me take care of you," Foggy said quietly against his lips, and Matt swore his heart skipped.
He nodded. "Okay." His mouth was dry as Foggy moved onto the bed to straddle his hips, kissing him more intently. Foggy's hands were in his hair, gripping the back of his neck, sliding over his chest. Matt couldn't help but gasp, Foggy taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into Matt's open mouth.
Soon Matt was panting, Foggy's mouth sliding off of his and onto his neck, sucking a mark over his pulse point.
"Foggy," Matt gasped, uncertain.
"Shh, Matty, you're all mine right now, okay?" And Matt nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as Foggy bit down on the bruise he just made. "You're gonna be real good for me, aren't you?"
"Y-yes," Matt stammered, swearing that he saw stars when Foggy palmed at his dick where it strained against his sweatpants.
"Good boy," Foggy murmured, and Matt shuddered. He felt cornered, crowded against his own mattress, but somehow this was...comforting. He was trapped in the best way. Foggy prodded at Matt's lower lip with two fingers, and Matt took the hint, sucking both of them in down to the knuckle. Foggy groaned, fucking Matt's mouth with his fingers. Matt couldn't help but whine in the back of his throat, feeling the drag of Foggy over his tongue.
Then, abruptly, Foggy pulled them out. He tried to voice his distress at the loss, but found himself letting out a long, broken moan instead when Foggy's spit slick fingers dipped beneath his waistband and closed around his cock.
"Fuck, Foggy," Matt whined, feeling close already. It was all too much, Foggy's hot breath on his neck, then biting down on his collarbone, pushing him back against his headboard and his warm, slick hand in his pants.
Foggy shushed him again, moving his hand faster. He kissed Matt, all teeth and possession, and Matt came shuddering apart under Foggy, a litany of "fuck, please, Foggy, I can't--" coming out of his mouth.
"Come for me Matt," Foggy ordered, his free hand twisted in Matt's hair. And Matt did, crying out as loud as he dared in the quiet of their dorm, clinging to Foggy like a lifeline.
Hours later, when the noises from the courtyard outside woke Matt up, he found himself still tangled in his own bed with Foggy, whose breathing was slow and even, his expression serene as he slept. He twined his fingers with Foggy's, deciding he could sleep a little longer.
Fill: D/s AU: Dom Foggy fake collars sub/switch Matt to protect him (2/?)
Foggy led Matt out onto the street, pulling him in the direction of their dorm. Matt knew he should thank Foggy, keep his story going, but he didn't have the energy. He felt tired and disappointed in a strange way, so he just let Foggy pull him along in silence. Foggy must have noticed something was off, because when he started talking it had the cadence of an apology.
"I hope it was okay that I, uh, pretend claimed you back there."
Matt snorted, still feeling a little drunk. "Yeah, 'course it was." He forced a smile. "Thanks, man."
"Yeah, no problem." Foggy seemed relieved. "I just," he paused, "I can't stand to see you get hurt, yanno?"
Matt...felt a little warm, which was unexpected. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wouldn't ruin his and Foggy's friendly dynamic with his neediness. It wasn't fair to Foggy to offer himself like he did to that girl at the party, like he did so many other nights to other strangers. And Foggy didn't want him like that, anyway, so it didn't matter.
Foggy's thumb brushed absent circles in Matt's bicep on the walk home, and Matt found himself relaxing into the touch. He hadn't been paying all that much attention to where they were walking, letting Foggy lead him, and when they reached their dorm he felt a little gypped, wishing they could keep going a little longer, wishing he could feel safe like this for a little longer.
When they'd made their way up the stairs and through the hallway to their dorm, Matt wanted nothing else but to go immediately to sleep. Foggy unlocked the door and he went to his dresser, shrugging out of his sweaty t-shirt and jeans and throwing on sweatpants, not bothering to put on a shirt. Without saying a word, he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fell into bed, facing the wall.
He knew Foggy was looking at him, knew he wanted to say something, but wasn't. He let it hang there, the tension of not speaking, until Foggy finally broke it.
"Hey, are you sure you're alright dude?" Foggy asked, clearing his throat.
Matt considered telling him that no, he felt empty and relieved and frustrated all at once, abandonment issues bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe it was the beer or maybe he'd reached his limit on lying to Foggy, but when he spoke he was vaguely surprised he was even saying this much. "I'm... I dunno, honestly."
He sensed Foggy frown, worried. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Matt paused. "Not really," he said honestly. "I wouldn't know where to start. I just--I need validation, I guess, if that makes any sense." He couldn't explain why he was saying it, but the more he talked the easier it was to just let the words fall out. "I keep looking for people who--like that girl, I guess--who make me feel less alone. Never really helps the way I want it to."
Foggy was quiet for a moment, then, "Let me help."
Matt's heart beat faster. "What do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He concentrated on Foggy--his heartbeat was even, sure. Matt swallowed.
In lieu of a response, Foggy stood, and Matt pushed himself up to sit leaning against his headboard. Foggy crossed the room to stand above Matt, then reached a hand out to tilt Matt's chin up, kissing him softly.
"Let me take care of you," Foggy said quietly against his lips, and Matt swore his heart skipped.
He nodded. "Okay." His mouth was dry as Foggy moved onto the bed to straddle his hips, kissing him more intently. Foggy's hands were in his hair, gripping the back of his neck, sliding over his chest. Matt couldn't help but gasp, Foggy taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into Matt's open mouth.
Soon Matt was panting, Foggy's mouth sliding off of his and onto his neck, sucking a mark over his pulse point.
"Foggy," Matt gasped, uncertain.
"Shh, Matty, you're all mine right now, okay?" And Matt nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as Foggy bit down on the bruise he just made. "You're gonna be real good for me, aren't you?"
"Y-yes," Matt stammered, swearing that he saw stars when Foggy palmed at his dick where it strained against his sweatpants.
"Good boy," Foggy murmured, and Matt shuddered. He felt cornered, crowded against his own mattress, but somehow this was...comforting. He was trapped in the best way. Foggy prodded at Matt's lower lip with two fingers, and Matt took the hint, sucking both of them in down to the knuckle. Foggy groaned, fucking Matt's mouth with his fingers. Matt couldn't help but whine in the back of his throat, feeling the drag of Foggy over his tongue.
Then, abruptly, Foggy pulled them out. He tried to voice his distress at the loss, but found himself letting out a long, broken moan instead when Foggy's spit slick fingers dipped beneath his waistband and closed around his cock.
"Fuck, Foggy," Matt whined, feeling close already. It was all too much, Foggy's hot breath on his neck, then biting down on his collarbone, pushing him back against his headboard and his warm, slick hand in his pants.
Foggy shushed him again, moving his hand faster. He kissed Matt, all teeth and possession, and Matt came shuddering apart under Foggy, a litany of "fuck, please, Foggy, I can't--" coming out of his mouth.
"Come for me Matt," Foggy ordered, his free hand twisted in Matt's hair. And Matt did, crying out as loud as he dared in the quiet of their dorm, clinging to Foggy like a lifeline.
Hours later, when the noises from the courtyard outside woke Matt up, he found himself still tangled in his own bed with Foggy, whose breathing was slow and even, his expression serene as he slept. He twined his fingers with Foggy's, deciding he could sleep a little longer.