Chapter Text
Foggy and Matt were on the ice when Karen and Marci finally returned from their (in retrospect, suspicious) errand. Foggy was attempting to teach Matt how to stop despite barely being able to stop himself. In other words, they were laughing like ninnies while spinning around on the ice. It’s possible that they were “accidentally” colliding and grabbing onto each other quite a bit.
Eventually (a long eventually), Karen and Marci returned. Foggy had grabbed Matt, pulling him close (both of them still spinning) to describe in delighted outrage the expressions on the women’s faces. Karen was reportedly beaming, and Marci was smiling, Foggy said, like the cat that got the canary. Matt deigned not to tell Foggy what they were saying as they approached the ice, but Foggy figured it out when he saw Karen pull out her wallet and hand some money to Marci.
Now it’s New Year’s Eve, and Matt—like the sentimental human being that he apparently is, is attempting to reflect on the magnitude of meaning packed into a phrase as workaday as “New Year’s.”
His attempts are hampered considerably by the fact that Foggy has seen fit to ring in the new year by inviting people to his apartment, and Matt has been conscripted to help as part of his boyfriend(!) duties.
“Matty! Earth to Matt! I need your opinion on these!” Foggy is calling. Matt is still in sleepy mode in the bed.
Matt slept over last night, which means he slept like the proverbial log. It’s like Foggy makes a little bubble around himself that lets Matt focus on the nearby sounds like the blood shushing through his veins and the breath whooshing in and out of his lungs. He sleeps much more soundly with Foggy than in his own room. (He does still use and pay rent for his room in Clint’s building, however, because Father Lantom pointed out that going straight from ‘homeless’ to ‘living with a romantic partner’ might not be entirely prudent.) Matt also wakes up more slowly after sleeping with Foggy. He feels pleasantly foggy this morning, haha.
“Hmm?” Matt asks when Foggy finally gives up calling his name from the kitchen and sticks his head in the room.
“So much for super hearing,” Foggy says, and Matt can hear the smile in his voice. Even someone without enhanced senses would be able to hear the affection there. “Matt, should I make brownies or cookies for people? And don’t you dare say both.”
“Cake?” Matt suggests. Foggy laughs but says no. “White chocolate marshmallow blondies?” Matt tries. Foggy makes a considering noise. Aw yiss, Matt’s getting blondies.
“You have to help me make the batter,” Foggy tells him. This is enough to tempt Matt out of bed. Helping make the batter involves Foggy asking him if things smell right, sneaking chocolate chips out of the bag to feed to Foggy, and getting kisses.
They make the blondies, clean Foggy’s apartment, get juice and champagne for mimosa mixing, and kiss some more. Dinner rolls around and the guests start arriving. There are more people coming than Matt would ever have guessed this time last year. They’re not just Foggy’s friends either—Claire, Clint, and Kate knew Matt before they knew Foggy. Father Lantom has known Matt longest of all—before Daredevil, even—but his duties prevent him from being able to attend.
It's a nice party nevertheless. They eat, drink, and turn on the TV to watch the ball drop. Foggy does an odd twitch when Matt drifts over to his side, but he puts his arms around Matt anyway. Matt makes a curious noise.
“Our friends keep looking at us, like a bunch of weirdoes,” Foggy says, starting off in a whisper to Matt and then gaining in volume as (presumably) people notice him whispering.
“You gonna kiss or what?” Clint asks, apparently unabashed. Kate slaps his arm.
“We’re not here to give you a free show,” Foggy says dryly.
“But they’re going to do it anyway,” Marci says, just as dry.
“New Year’s kiss!” Karen says in what’s probably agreement. She’s a little tipsy at this point. Matt can practically feel the heat coming off her face. “Start the year off right!”
“Not if you’re going to stare like a bunch of weirdoes,” Foggy says, holding Matt tighter. That’s nice.
“You are a bunch of weirdoes,” Marci says at the same time Kate says, “We are a bunch of weirdoes,” at the same time Clint says, “Who’re you calling a weirdo?” Claire snorts and toasts Karen, who is giggling.
“Shut up, the ball’s about to drop,” Karen says, focusing on the TV. The peanut gallery settles down. Foggy and Matt shift until they’re facing each other. Foggy’s been describing the scene on TV, on and off, all night. He’s described the crowds, the branding and marketing, the lights and billboards. He murmurs to Matt now, describing the countdown. Matt listens with half an ear on Foggy’s words. The crowd on TV starts to count down, the chant growing as more people join in.
Ten. Nine. Claire’s heartbeat is steady, and she sways lightly on her feet, loose and relaxed.
Eight. Seven. Clint and Kate are leaning on each other.
Six. Five. Marci’s fingers are tapping on her glass, keeping time with the crowd.
Four. Elsewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, the church bells are already ringing.
Three. Karen is bouncing on her toes, eager for the future.
Two! Matt listens to the heartbeats of the people around him. Foggy’s is the nearest and clearest.
One! Foggy’s heartbeat flutters sweetly.
The ball drops. Music plays. People around the city are cheering. Matt and Foggy are in each other’s arms. A new year begins.