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It was the day before Valentine's Day, and it just so happened that a warlock villain decided to utilize the holiday a bit too early when he used a love potion.
Well, it was more like a love mist sort of deal.
Matt had been listening in on reports of the warlock using the mist as a distraction. Police officers and other superheroes would inhale the steam by accident and immediately become infatuated with whoever was nearby. As hilarious as the concept was of a villain using the power of love to their advantage, they were still, you know, a criminal.
The mist consisted of multiple pheromones and other properties that Matt couldn't recognize (they were probably something mystic related).
Throughout the mayhem of people becoming lovesick victims, Frank turned up and joined Matt to stop the warlock. He had been dealing with a group of drug dealers that were running away from him. Until they were hit with the mist. Frank was far away from the clouds due to the injuries he suffered from the attackers. It didn't affect him, but the drug dealers suddenly turned very affectionate towards each other. Even though they were easy to catch, Matt still wanted to find the warlock and stop him in his tracks. Not only that, he got to hang out with Frank, which wasn't a bad idea.
Frank had tracked the warlock on top of the rooftop of one of the central banks downtown. Matt had borrowed a gas mask from Frank just in case the mist was emitting from the rooftop. The warlock was using it inside the building, small packets of the mist filling the first floor, and now Daredevil and Punisher cornered said warlock on top of the bank. It felt like an average Tuesday for them.
"Can't a guy get some cash?" The warlock said meekly. "It's not like anyone is getting hurt!"
"You're still robbing people, asshole," Frank growled through the mask. He had his rifle ready in case the warlock tried anything, even though he was, y'know, using magic.
"Stop emitting the mist and turn yourself in," Matt said. "There's nowhere else for you to go."
"I— I can teleport outta here!" The warlock said, his heartbeat stuttering.
Liar.
Matt smiled underneath the mask. "No, you can't."
"... You don't know that!" The warlock was trying to waste time.
Matt approached him, trying to give off as much intimidation as possible with his fists at his side. The warlock panicked and immediately raised his hands.
"Okay! Okay! You got me!" He whimpered, and Matt wasn't exactly buying it.
Matt sensed the warlock reaching into something in his pocket when he crouched down in surrender. He suspected that the warlock would snatch at one of their masks and spray the mist at their faces. The catholic martyr inside Matt decided that maybe it was best if he took the mist instead. Just to save Frank from the embarrassment. He also didn't want to take the chance of Frank falling in love with the warlock.
Just as expected, when Matt went to grab the warlock's wrist, he pulled off Matt's mask and immediately dusted him with the mist.
The warlock cackled. "Take that!"
Here we go.
Matt felt the fumes go into his mouth and nostrils, coughing up a fit as it traveled down his throat. He heard Frank shout at them and shot at the warlock, who tried to shield himself briefly. A pained cry came from the warlock, and the smell of blood hit the air. Frank shot him in the foot, judging by how the warlock was cursing under his breath.
"Red!"
Matt waited for the effects to take place. He paused to feel any change in his physical state or behavior, but nothing happened after a few minutes of the mist clearing out.
Matt felt… the same.
There was a temperature rise slightly, but Matt didn't feel any different.
"God damn it…!" the warlock hissed, clutching onto his injured foot before he realized what happened. "Hey, wait a minute— is it not working on you?"
"Red, you feeling alright?" Frank asked carefully.
Matt gave himself another minute, just in case it was a delayed effect. After a couple more minutes, there were still no changes.
"I feel fine," Matt said with a shrug.
The warlock was staring at him. "Okay, so that's like the fifth or sixth time I've seen that happen."
"The hell are you talking about?" Frank asked with a threatening tone.
"The mist— it should work on anyone. But I think it doesn't work on those who are either aromantic or already in love," the warlock explained.
"You think? Aren't you the one that made it?" Frank questioned.
The warlock shook his head. "No, I stole it from Mordo. All it said was 'Love Spell' on the label, I grabbed it, turned it into a mist, and that was it. It should give people rose-colored eyes and make them fall in love with whoever was nearby!"
Frank groaned, slowly muttering out: "I fucking hate warlocks…"
Matt listened in on the inside of the bank briefly to get some answers. So far, there were mostly people running around being romantic around whoever was nearby. However, there were a few of them that didn't feel any effects. Matt guessed that there were couples within the building or people that had their hearts placed elsewhere.
If the mist didn't work on those who were aromantic or already in love…
Then that meant that the tiny infatuation Matt felt for Frank wasn't as small as he thought it would be.
"So either Daredevil is already in love with someone, or he's aromantic," the warlock added.
"Well, last time I checked, I'm not aromantic," Matt said.
Frank tensed up at the response, and it made Matt confused for a moment. Maybe the injuries he got from earlier acted up again? The warlock cursed again and tried to get away, but he had forgotten about his injured foot and tripped. Plus, Frank was right there to grab him by the cape.
"Stop emitting the mist and tell us how to fix everything," Frank demanded.
"Okay, geez! I'll turn it off! The mist will stop, but the people are still gonna be affected!"
"How do we reverse it?" Matt asked.
"I don't know! My guess is to either let the potion run its course or they have their hearts broken!" The warlock squealed.
"Pain in my ass," Frank growled, knocking the warlock out with the end of his rifle. He looked over at Matt again, almost hesitantly, which was weird. "Anything in mind?"
Matt listened again to the people inside the bank to give them any clues. So far, some people have already denied a few of the love-struck victims, breaking their hearts and freeing them from the mist. The ones that didn't sound like they were affected also had the same rise in temperature like Matt did. A few had it worse than others, and suddenly the answer came through. One man practically had a fever at this point. However, as soon as he called his wife and told her how much he loved her, the fever was gone. The couples in the building began to do the same when they started feeling overly sentimental, and their temperatures went back to normal. There was someone inside the building who mentioned that they were aromantic to someone. A proclamation of self-love was enough to do the trick for them.
Oh god, that's how Matt had to fix his situation.
He had to confess his feelings.
How the hell was he going to do that? Frank was one of the hardest people to read, and Matt doubted he felt the same way.
This was going to be a challenge.
"What's going on, Red?" Frank asked.
Matt cleared his throat. "The warlock was right; the people that were affected by the mist had to get their hearts broken or just let it run its course. As for the ones that weren't affected by the potion, they do get a couple of side-effects."
"Such as?" Frank prompted.
"Rise in temperature to the point of a fever, and they start to feel more, uh, open, to the ones they love," Matt explained.
Frank placed a hand on his side, wincing slightly at the bruise given by one of the drug dealers. "Well then, you should start heading out and confess your love, altar boy."
Matt was slightly taken aback by the subtle bitterness in Frank's tone.
Okay, that was really weird.
"That can wait," Matt said, beckoning Frank with his hand. "Come on; you helped me out today. The least I could do is patch you up."
"You're going to get a fever if you delay it for too long." Frank chided.
"A fever won't kill me. You know that" Matt flashed a grin, and that was enough to convince Frank to follow him.
After calling up Doctor Strange to handle the unconscious warlock and make sure the mist had dispersed completely, they went back to Matt's place. Frank had been in his apartment often, to the point where he was already pulling out the first-aid kit from the bathroom. He sat on the couch, pulling up sleeves and lifting his shirt to give Matt better access, and Matt felt his temperature spike up again. Ignoring the side-effects was going to be more challenging than he thought.
"You should be good to go," Matt said after placing some gauzes over a few open wounds. "Gotta be careful with the bruises around your side."
"I'll be fine," Frank murmured, and for some reason, it didn't sound compelling. "You should take off your cowl, Red. That thing is gonna make you sweat even more."
"Oh, uh, right," Matt said, willing to listen and do anything for Frank. He took it off right away. Frank was right; it was much better on himself as his temperature continued to rise. Matt heard a small hitch in Frank's breath, and that already made him worry. "What's wrong?"
"Your eyes, they're not hazel," Frank said, observing his face (in which Matt tried extremely hard not to get flustered). "They're like a pale pink color."
Right. The rose-colored eyes were a side-effect.
"The warlock did mention something about that," Matt said, putting the first-aid kit back inside the bathroom. Frank was already adjusting his bag when he got back into the living room, preparing to leave. "You're leaving?" He did not sound hurt. Not at all.
"I don't need to stay," Frank said curtly. "You should confess your feelings to Elektra in private."
Wait a minute— Elektra?
Frank thought he was still in love with Elektra?
"Frank," Matt started patiently, unsure if he should laugh or not. "You think I'm still in love with my ex?"
"You hang out with her sometimes, I figured you might have some harbored feelings," Frank said, his shoulders tense again.
"No! I'm not in love with Elektra. That was years ago. We’re just friends now," Matt explained. "Plus, she's dating Jennifer Kale, remember?"
Frank hummed, but he still felt on-edge. "Okay, fine. Go confess your love to Natasha then."
Again with the exes.
"Nat and I are also just friends, Frank. Nothing romantic between us anymore."
"... Danny Ketch, then?"
"Wh— Frank, I'm not in love with any of my exes!" the one time Matt mentioned that he dated a Ghost Rider, and this was what he got. Suddenly, he started to sweat from how much the suit warmed up. "I— how do I do this…"
This was it.
Matt was trying to figure out a way to confess his feelings without making an absolute fool of himself. The fever was getting worse, and Matt was starting to feel a bit enamored. He had the urge to declare his love to Frank, do a Hollywood movie style dip, and kiss him. As if that wasn't going to guarantee a swift punch to the face.
He wondered if he could confess subtly.
Would that count?
"I can assure you that it's not any of my exes," Matt said slowly, still trying to figure out what to do. Maybe something sentimental or metaphorical would work? "What makes you think it was one of them?"
Frank gave him a shrug. "It just makes sense to me."
"Well, it's funny you never considered anyone else in the list of possible answers," Matt said, slowly approaching him. "I always treat people I liked differently than others, y'know. One way of doing so is…" the smell of old coffee grinds from the kitchen gave him an idea. "... making coffee."
"Coffee?"
"Yeah, coffee," Matt nodded. "You know how sometimes you crash on my couch after a long mission, and the next morning I make you coffee?"
"Well, yeah, it became a regular thing whenever that happened," Frank said. "I asked you to make coffee, though."
"The first few times it happened, yes, you did," Matt agreed. "After that, you stopped asking, and yet I still made coffee for you: black coffee, no cream, two teaspoons of sugar."
There was a soft hum that came from Frank, one that Matt knew fondly. "Yeah, and I would make your— shit, how did you say it?"
"Café con leche," Matt smiled.
"That's the one. I knew it had something to do with milk," Frank chuckled. "What are you trying to say, Red?"
"What I'm saying is that making coffee and spending time with you in the morning is nice," Matt clarified. "I enjoy those mornings where you and I can just make coffee, have breakfast, and talk. Y'know, like regular people that aren't vigilantes."
Frank laughed at the comment. The gentle sound of it made Matt's heart soar. Before Matt could say any more sappy confessions, he heard Frank stop laughing and stutter. At the same time, Matt felt his temperature regulate itself, and the lovesick fog lifted from his mind.
"Red, your eyes are back to normal," Frank said.
Matt took off his gloves and touched his face quickly. There was no more sweat, and his skin didn't feel clammy. "Holy shit, it worked."
"Wait a minute… that was a confession?" Frank asked, heat rising to his face.
"Yes, and I can't believe that worked," Matt laughed out of relief. "I didn't know how long it would've taken for me to blurt it out or kiss you, but uh, I guess now you know."
"I… god damn it, I feel stupid now," Frank said out of amusement, rubbing the back of his neck. "Here I was getting jealous over your exes."
So that's what it was.
Matt smiled again. "If it makes you feel any better, the way you make coffee was better than the ones they've made before."
"How the hell do you screw up coffee with milk?"
"They didn't screw it up; they just didn't make it the way I liked it. To each their own tastes."
"Well then, maybe tomorrow morning I can make our coffee and breakfast," Frank suggested, moving closer to Matt. "What do you say?"
Matt allowed himself to be embraced by Frank, finally settling himself with the truth. He smiled again, with the knowledge that there was no side-effect mist behind it.
"I'd love to."