Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Okay, the first time, nobody could blame Foggy. They were broke students. And it was – It was discriminatory against singles, that’s what it was. So frankly, Mama Maglione’s Pizza Emporium deserved to get a little screwed over. And Matt was probably on board, so what was the harm?

“Yes, hello, we –” Foggy gestured to himself and Matt, who stood next to him in the overheated takeout restaurant, “Would like the Romantic’s Pizza Package , please.”

Foggy pointed at the banner above, proclaiming Valentine’s Day Spooktacular Romantic's Pizza Package Special for Couples! 1 medium heart-shaped pizza, dozen wings and two drinks for $15!

He wasn't sure why it was described as "Spooktacular". Maybe they ran a similar promotion at Halloween.

Next to Foggy, Matt stiffened, hand pinching his upper arm. Okay, so maybe Matt wasn’t so much on board as he was being forced to improvise without any warning, because Foggy hadn’t actually told him the plan – this was also not something anyone could blame Foggy for. He was pretty sure Matt was against lying in any form because of the Catholic thing, so, of course, Foggy was forced to take the situation into his own soon-to-be-carrying-cheap-pizza hands. 

The surly looking teenager blinked at them.

“You’re a couple?”

“Uh, yeah! Of course. Right Matty?”

“Uh – Yes. Couple! That’s us,” Matt said, clearly biting back surprise. 

The teen looked at Matt, then looked at Foggy and then back at Matt.

“Really?”

Foggy was a little insulted but, you know, fair. Matt was crazy hot and Foggy was – well, he probably could have showered before their totally-real valentines day dinner. Maybe not wear his study-session sweatpants, but that was a long shot.

“Yes really,” said Foggy. 

The teenager shrugs, “Okay, sorry, we got a lot of losers pretending to be couples, sooo…,”

Matt scowled and flexed his knuckles on his cane, “What’s that supposed to mean? Why wouldn’t we be dating?”

The teenager rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine, sorry. What do you want on your pizza?”

“Half plain, half pepperoni. Please .” Foggy said in a clipped tone.

“Uh huh. And what flavor sauce for the wings?”

“Ranch. On the side.”

They ordered lemonades, paid in fistfuls of single dollar bills and handfuls of change split between the two of them and sat outside on the curb to wait for their order.

“Thanks for playing along. I was hoping we’d get that surly old man at the counter and, like, tell him we’re law students and threaten to sue him for homophobia if he doubted us. Surly teenager was uh – unexpected.”

“I don’t think she wasn’t gonna give us the discount. I just think she thought we were losers who were lying to save ten bucks. Still, pretty rude.”

“I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility we could be a couple.”

“We could definitely be a couple,” Matt said, confidently, “Even if you’re a little out of my league.”

Foggy snorted, “I’m out of your league? I know you can’t see yourself, buddy, but…”

“Well, you smell out of my league.”

Foggy choked on his lemonade.

“I smell out of your league!?”

“Hey, the nose wants what it wants.”

“I think you’re making fun of me.”

Matt grinned and shook his head, “Nah, I’m not. We could definitely be a couple.”

“Valentine's day special, plain and pepperoni, ranch wings!” The teenager yelled out from the pizzeria. 

“Oh, that’s us.” Foggy said, jumping up, “Thank God, I’m starving.”

Matt was still untying his scarf in their dorm room when Foggy opened the pizza box.
“Well? Is it as romantic as advertised?”

“Well … It’s less of a heart, more like … a kidney. So. Not the least romantic organ, I guess.”

“What’s the least romantic organ? 

“Spleen. Duh.” Foggy said around a mouthful of pizza. He swallowed a little harshly and took a quick sip of lemonade.

Matt frowned, “Is it … good?”

“... No. But it’s food. And it was $15.” 

“Well, if nothing else, I’m a cheap date.” Matt said, and gently knocked his lemonade cup against Foggy’s, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“You too, buddy.”

Chapter Text

On the whole, Foggy didn’t get hit on randomly quite as often as Matt did. Not that he wasn’t getting any rando action at all, just, you know, he didn’t quite have that devastating beauty that Matt did. 

What he did get more often than Matt was people hitting on him on behalf of their family members. 

Case in point, Mrs. Juarez, who was quite insistently showing Foggy photos of her 25-year-old granddaughter. They’d just helped Mrs. Juarez with her contractor, who had up and vanished halfway through renovating her kitchen. Not their most high-stakes case, sure, but Mrs. Juarez was willing to pay them in actual currency, not just in baked goods. And as much fun as it was to get a plate of cookies instead of a cheque, cookies couldn’t pay the bills. 

Unfortunately, Mrs. Juarez had gotten it in her head that Foggy was lonely – which, well, wasn’t exactly untrue, but that was mainly because Matt had been so busy with his newly discovered hobby of being a criminal that he didn’t have time for his best friend.

Not that Foggy was bitter.

“She’s a wonderful cook–”

“I’m sure she is, Mrs. Juarez,” Foggy said, “But we’re really not supposed to date clients–”

“Well, she’s not a client! I’m the client.”

“... True, but, you know, besides that I’m…”

He cast around for a reason that wouldn’t be as insulting as ‘it would be weird’ to one of their only paying clients. 

“I’m not single.”

Mrs. Juarez raised an eyebrow, “No? I thought I heard Miss Page talk about setting you up with a friend?”

Dammit Karen. He’s so be giving her a dirty look if she wasn’t picking up lunch.

“Well, it’s uh – “ Foggy’s eyes fell on the closed door to Matt’s office. He knew now he had no hope of Matt not overhearing every word Foggy was saying (and wasn’t that incredibly awkward to realize), “Mr. Murdock! Matt. I just, uh, It’s … a secret.”

Mrs. Juarez’s eyes widened in shock, “A secret? Does she … not approve ? ”

“Oh! No! No no, nothing like that, just … you know, it might be weird. For her bosses to date, right? Shouldn't mix business and pleasure. So, uh, keep it under your hat?”

Mrs. Juarez smiled conspiratorially and winked, “Well, your secret is safe with me.”

Behind Mrs. Juarez’s head, a shadow moved in the clouded glass of Matt’s office door.

“Haah... I appreciate it,” Foggy said, standing. Mrs. Juarez stood as well.

“So, any more issues with Mr. Moore, you’ll let us know?” Foggy said as he walked Mrs. Juarez to the door. Behind them, Matt came out of his office. 

“Mrs. Juarez! I heard the deposition went well,” said Matt, walking up and taking Foggy’s arm.

“Well, I had excellent representation,” Mrs. Juarez said, “As I’m sure you know.”

“Absolutely,” Matt said. Then he leaned in and kissed Foggy on the cheek. 

Foggy flushed and Mrs. Juarez giggled.

“Matt, not in the office, huh?” Foggy said through gritted teeth and elbowed Matt in the side.

“Oh, don’t mind me, boys, I’ve got to be going anyway. You’ll send me a final invoice?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Wonderful. Well, you two have fun before Miss Page gets back!”

With that, Mrs. Juarez left the office and Foggy extracted his arm from Matt’s.

“That was super unnecessary, dude.”

Matt just grinned, “I was trying to help you sell it. Wouldn’t want to offend Mrs. Juarez.”

“Yeah, well, there’s such a thing as over-acting.”

“If I was over-acting, I would have frenched you.”

Foggy flushed again and walked back towards his own office. Matt sauntered after him. He’d been doing this lately, not quite following Foggy around but… kind of trying to spend more time around him. It wasn’t really helping do anything but make Foggy feel like a kid at a zoo being observed too-closely by a tiger. 

“So, uh … why the fake-boyfriend thing?” Matt said from the door to Foggy’s office.

“You know why, don’t pretend like you didn’t hear everything.”

Matt almost took a step into the office, but then seemed to change his mind and stayed lurking in the doorway, “I mean, the granddaughter.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t know, she was weird looking?”

“No, she wasn’t.”

Foggy pulled a face, “Don’t lie-detect me.”

“You’re eight feet away from me, Foggy, I can’t not hear your heartbeat. And if the granddaughter looks anything like Mrs. Juarez, then she probably looked fine.”

“You don’t know what she looks like,” said Foggy.

“Fine, I … think the shape she takes up in space is probably fine, based on Mrs. Juarez.”

“Every day I find your powers more confusing.”

Matt shrugged, “I don’t really know how to explain it. I thought you watched a video about bat echolocation and got an idea.”

“I watched the first two minutes and then decided you didn’t need any more reasons to pretend you’re Batman.”

“Okay. So, the granddaughter?”

“Jesus, Matt, I don’t know! I just didn’t think it was professional and at least one of us needs to be. Just drop it already,” Foggy said.

Matt raised his hands in surrender and took a step back out of the doorframe, “Okay. Fair enough.”

“Yeah. Shut the door, would ya?”

“Uh. Sure.”

Matt grabbed the door and pulled it shut as he retreated back into the main part of the office. Foggy waited until the shadow had vanished before he touched the spot on his cheek where Matt had kissed him, then furiously rubbed any trace of it off.

Chapter Text

Foggy woke up to the steady beeping on a pulse monitor, a pain in the back of his hand, an incredibly scratchy and sore throat and the heavy weight of Matt Murdock’s big stupid sleeping head on his chest. The weight didn’t last for long, luckily, because nearly as soon as Foggy opened his eyes, Matt woke up, lifting his head and blearily adjusting his askew glasses.

“Matt?” Foggy croaked.

Matt sniffed, “Foggy – How are you feeling?”

Foggy cleared his throat, “Like I swallowed a bunch of broken glass.”

“Well, anaphylaxis will do that.”

Right, right. They’d gone to dinner, a new Spanish-Italian fusion place, whatever that meant. To celebrate the new office they’d managed to find (again) since Nelson, Murdock and Page had gone under when the Nelson and the Murdock both dissolved into ash in the courtroom in the middle of a trial (and come back into existence 5 years later, in the middle of the courtroom, in the middle of a trial with the exact same defendant (he was guilty this time, apparently)). 

Anyway, Foggy had ordered pasta. He’d gotten about three bites in before Matt had started looking alarmed at him and knocked the fork out of his hand. That’s when he noticed what Matt had apparently been upset about (he wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact Matt was more in tune with Foggy’s bodily functions than Foggy himself was). That is, that his throat was starting to close. He managed to ask for the waiter to call an ambulance before he got too dizzy and slumped on to the floor. 

What had followed was a blur of yelling, flashing ambulance lights, a cook bursting from the kitchen with an EpiPen, Matt arguing with the paramedics to let him go with them to the hospital and then, of course, unconsciousness. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not lurking on the roof this time,” Foggy said, pushing himself up the bed. 

Matt flinched a little, “Well, ah – I don’t blame myself for your previously unknown allergy to tiger nuts. Can’t brood about that.” 

“Tiger nuts?”

“Tiger nut flour for the pasta, apparently.” 

“Just my luck, allergic to some nut I’ve never fucking heard of. That sure shows me for trying to eat healthy or whatever, right?” Foggy said, scratching at his throat. He was pretty sure he had hives.

“I don’t know if I’d call it healthy, considering how much cheese was on it.”

“Also, I mean, not healthy because it almost killed me, right? Guess I gotta be more careful about what nuts I put in my mouth.”

Matt choked a little.

“Well – uh, maybe a little choosier, yeah.”

“Just a little. Stick to putting previously acquainted nuts in my mouth, right?”

Matt bit back a laugh, “Well, technically, a tiger nut isn’t a nut. Apparently it’s a tuber.”

“So, I gotta watch out for putting tubers in my mouth instead?”

Matt snorted and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, “Sh-shh! Stop, you’re gonna get me kicked out! They barely let me in in the first place.”

“I can’t help it, I’m hilarious when faced with a near death experience.”

“I guess hanging around with me makes them a little less unusual…” 

Matt stopped and did the weird bird head tilt he did when he was listening. 

“Nurse coming.”

“Oh – Do you have to go?”

“No, no it’s fine. I told them … it’s fine.”

“Wait, what did you tell them?”

“Mr. Nelson, you’re awake!” The nurse said as she entered the room, “How are you feeling?”

“Itchy. Scratchy… Poochie? Are you old enough to get that reference?” 

The nurse smiled a little, “No, but sounds like you’re not doing too bad. Just checking your vitals… The doctor should be by in a little while to see you and we’re going to keep you overnight for observation, of course.”

Foggy sighed, “Great start to the weekend, huh Matt? You should get goi–”

Matt was already shaking his head, “No – it’s fine, I’ll stay.”

“They’re gonna kick you out anyway, buddy, you may as well–”

“Oh, it’s fine,” said the nurse, writing down the numbers on the blood pressure machine, “We don’t kick out spouses.” 

“Spouses?” Foggy looked at Matt, surprised. A blush was creeping up Matt’s neck.

“Uh… yeah, I told them that we were – Sorry, if that’s weird.”

The nurse laughed, “Don’t worry, boyfriend, spouse, we’re not gonna split hairs. You give me a call if you need anything, I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

When the nurse had left, Foggy looked at Matt again and raised his eyebrows.

“I’m raising my eyebrows in incredulity.”

“Well,” Mat said, a little hotly, ears bright red, “They weren’t going to let me ride along with you if we were just friends and they weren’t going to let me stay here after hours if we were just friends. And what was I supposed to do, parkour across the city, following the ambulance?”

“You have definitely done that before.”

“Okay, yeah, but I can’t in these shoes, and these pants are a little –” 

“Oh, right, you’re in your booty pants.”

“...I’m sorry, my what ?”

“Uh.”

Karen and Foggy had, years ago, worked out when Matt was planning on flirting with somebody based on a very specific pair of slacks. Namely, the tightest, most impeccably tailored pair of pants on God’s green earth. They made Matt’s ass look like it was carved out of marble – even more so than normal. Matt tended to wear them when he knew the opposing counsel was attracted to him and trying to throw them off a little, or when he was going to a bar, or when he was trying to charm an elderly lady. 

Old women sure loved Matt’s ass. 

But, downside, they weren’t really suited for sprinting around the city. Well, kind of a downside, since it meant that Matt wasn’t going to run off half-cocked to get revenge on the tiger nut supplier.

Foggy wasn’t sure what it meant that Matt had worn them to go to dinner with him. Maybe he was planning on flirting with a waitress or was going to suggest they swing by Karen’s place after they ate. Thinking on it, Foggy owed Karen a thank-you for keeping those tight pants of Matt’s for the 5 years they’d been dust. She’d put them in the trunk with his dad’s stuff and his illegal vigilante gear - a kind of memorial box. She’d been all too happy to return the pants when they’d come back.

Truthfully, Foggy had been pretty happy about those pants too, not that he was about to tell Matt that. 

“It’s uh — kind of an inside joke with Karen, don’t worry about it.”

“But–”

“Anyway, pants aside … It’s Friday night, don’t you like to go and … boostafazoo ?”

Foggy mimed a few punches in the air.

“I, uh, asked Colleen to cover for me, actually.” Matt said, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

“... Really?”

“I said we were going to hang out tonight, right? I mean, unless you want me to –”

“No! No, that’s – I’m happy about it, that you’re gonna hang out, that’s awesome. I’m just surprised. You hate hospitals.”

“Yeah, but I also hate those cheese and onion puffs you like and I put up with those.”

“Aw, well aren’t you making me feel special.”

“How are you feeling otherwise?”

“Not so bad. A little worn out. The adrenaline’s probably wearing off.”

“Hmm.” 

“Hey – before, why were you sleeping on my chest?”

“Sorry. Too close for comfort?”

“No, it’s fine, man. I’m just … curious. It was .. unexpected.”

Matt shrugged, “I just like  –” Matt cut himself off and licked his bottom lip, “I just wanted to pay attention to your blood pressure. It’s not like I can see what the monitor says.”

Foggy snorted, “Can you really tell my blood pressure from listening to my heart? Don’t you need a timer and a cuff or something?” 

“Well, it’s not scientific. I just can hear when it’s high. Or low. And what can I say, you’ve got a – a comfortable torso.”

“That’s true, people everywhere are raving about my tits.”

Matt grinned. 

“No argument here. Ten out of ten tits.”

Foggy sighed and leaned back against the uncomfortable emergency department bed. 

“Do you want to try and get some rest now, Fogs?”

“Yeah, might be a good idea.” 

“Okay. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Really?”

“Yep, I promise. … Unless I have to, uh, pee or something, then I mean, I’ll be close by. Don’t take my immediate absence as me not being here.”

“Aw, Murdock, that was almost sweet.”

“I do my best.”

Chapter Text

There was no simple way of explaining this.

It was just … 

So they had to…

There was an evil wizard.

Foggy didn’t know how his life had come to this.

It started with a fake couples retreat in the pine barrens. Well, if not fake, at least crooked, considering it was run by a mobster. It wasn’t even Daredevil business, it was pure N&M actual lawyerly work. Well, kinda. Typically, it was the kind of thing Karen would do, but she was off in California on a special investigative assignment, so that left Matt and Foggy to do the dirty work.

Matt, of course, wasn’t really thrilled with the idea of Foggy joining him. More accurately, he was completely against it.

“Absolutely not.”

“So, what, you’re just going to show up to a couple’s retreat alone?”

“No, Foggy.”

Foggy narrowed his eyes, “... So you were just going to live in the woods for a week like a serial killer and investigate after dark? Are you Jason Vorhees now?”

“No! Not like a serial kill-”

“You were going to live in the woods though, weren’t you. No way, you’re gonna become one with the pine barrens and become a real life Jersey Devil and we’ll never see you again until some hunter shoots you,” Foggy said, shaking his head and stalking over to his laptop. He punched in the website for the retreat and signed them up as Everett and Laurent Murson (Foggy kind of panicked trying to think of a last name).

“... Why did you make our names so fancy?” said Matt.

“They’re as far from Hell’s Kitchen names as I could think of. Hopefully they’ll think we’re fancy guys from upstate. Or at least fancy guys from the upper west side.”

“Am I Laurent or Everett?”

Foggy scoffed, “You’re obviously Laurent.”

It was nearly two hours of driving to the ominously named Mt. Misery, but the location itself looked normal enough. A few cabins, a nice enough lake and a herd of WASPy couples, eager for marriage tune-ups. 

Matt set his mouth in a kind of suspicious frown the moment he stepped out of the car though.

“This place doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s called the outdoors, Matt. You’re probably just not used to hearing things that aren’t echoed off twenty three square miles of concrete and glass.”

Matt grunted.

“Relax Laurent,” Foggy said in a whisper, handing Matt his bag, “We spend a few days here, poke around the expenses when Mr. Stegeria’s busy with group couple’s therapy, pretend to have romantic moments and then – we go home and sue the shit out of him. It’ll be easy.”

It was not easy.

The bed situation turned out to be … unique.

“It’s just uh – the website said, uh, glamping,” Foggy said to one of the retreat guest liaison (which Foggy thought was too fancy a title considering she’d just led them to a pup tent), “Which, you know, maybe implies something a little more glamorous than.. this.”

“Well, Mr. Stegeria is of the opinion that too much physical space between couples results in too much emotional space between couples. The glamor is the intimate bond you form with your partner and our complimentary continental breakfast,” She said, somewhat robotically. 

“Uh huh.”

Foggy eyed the single-person sized tent. Barely big enough for one adult man, let alone two. Matt stuck on a lightly impassive expression and put his backpack down next to the tent’s entrance.  

“It’ll be fine, Foggy. Better than being stuck in a cabin with other people and no privacy , right?

“Uh - right. Yeah. Thank you.”

The liaison nodded with a fixed smile and left to help the other couple.

Matt leaned down and stuck his head and shoulders in the tent to get an idea of the space inside.

“So, what do you think? Is there even enough room for both of us to lie down in there?”

“Uh… Maybe if we’re … stacked?” Matt said, a pink tinge rising up his neck.

Foggy crossed his arms over his chest, like that would block Matt from hearing his heart race, "That definitely sounds … intimate.” 

“And glamorous.”

The WASPy herd of couples was somehow even less interesting than Foggy had imagined. He kind of wished he’d used their real names, they could have at least handed out business cards for the inevitable messy divorces that were almost definitely going to follow this retreat. 

Forced with choosing either sitting at the picnic tables set up for the meet & greet dinner with the WASP nest or awkwardly sitting in the dirt to give themselves some distance, they chose the easily accessible third option. Sitting in their tent. 

It kind of reminded Foggy of the pillow and blanket forts he’d built with his brother as a kid, when they’d had a babysitter and were allowed to eat pizza and stay up with a rented movie. The food might have been better than the crappy pizza his family would order, but Matt had slapped it out his hands right as he was about to take a bite.

“Matt, what the fuck!”

“Don’t eat that.”

Foggy looked at the sandwich that was spread out across the grass at the entrance of their tent and Matt hucked his own sandwich out onto the grass as well. 

“You could have just said that, Slappy Squirrel. What’s wrong with it?”

Matt wrinkled his nose, “It doesn’t smell right.”

“What, the mayo started to turn?”

“No – well, maybe, but there’s something –” Matt sniffed the air, “There’s something not right here. Things don’t sound right or smell right, but I don’t know what it is.”

“What do you mean they don’t sound right?”

“I mean…” Matt paused, thinking, “I should be able to hear more. Animals out in the woods, water flowing, insects, right?”

“I don’t know if that’s right actually.”

Matt ignored that, “But there’s nothing outside this immediate area. I keep hearing birds pop into existence from nowhere. Like they’re going from fifty miles away to ten feet instantly.”

“So you’re saying birds are suddenly appearing. Wow, this couple’s retreat is helping already.”

Matt scowled. Foggy shrugged.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s not weird, but that’s why we’re here, right? Because this guy’s doing something hinky, whether through creative accounting or … magic, I guess?”

“I hate magic.”

“I know, buddy… Any chance we brought other food?” Foggy said, gesturing to the spilled sandwich. 

“I brought fruit leather and bottled water.”

“Okay. I got like, six days worth of jerky. And there’s vodka in my travel bottle. So, we’re good on salt, sugar and booze, bad on nutrients?”

“Just like college.”

The rest of the evening was mainly more introductory nonsense that Foggy remembered from the single summer he’d gone to camp. Except instead of playing shitty camp songs while slapping away mosquitoes, he was listening to couples passive-aggress to one another under the guise of tell us why you’re here.

“-- doesn’t help with the kids, or the house. And I need support. The nanny is only there for sixteen hours a day and I’m totally alone.” One woman, Madison, was saying about her husband Brant, who had just spent nearly eight solid minutes complaining about her , (his complaints basically amounted to “she’s aged in the twelve years we’ve been together” and that her genitals weren’t as good since she’d given birth ).

Foggy hated every single one of these people. He kept nudging Matt when any one of them said something ridiculous, but Matt was twitchy and distracted, jumping at noises far too small and distant for Foggy (or anyone else) to hear. Foggy really hoped Matt was just hearing bats or something and not literally the Jersey Devil or something.

“Mr. Murson? Everett?” Mr. Stegeria cleared his throat and Foggy snapped to attention.

“Uh! Yes, hi?”

“We were wondering if you’d like to share why you and Laurent have decided to join us this weekend?”

“Oh – uh, right.”

Foggy elbowed Matt again so he tuned in and then had a brief moment of panic. They hadn’t actually figured out what Everett and Laurent’s problems were. But they were lawyers. They knew how to improvise.

“Well, uh … He’s – I mean, in the past, he’s had some issues with … honesty? I guess?”

One of the women (Cathrynn) gasped, “Oh! Were you unfaithful, Laurent?”

“Uh,” said Matt.

“No! No - he, I mean, more about his, uh … professional life? And we – he’s been better, for a while, just…,” Foggy’s eyes drifted to Matt, who was facing the ground with an unreadable expression, “I’ve been let down in the past. I just want to believe he’ll show up and keep showing up.” 

Matt’s hand moved to Foggy’s wrist and grasped it gently.

“Can you be a little more detailed?” Mr. Stegeria asked. Something about his expression was strange and Foggy, for whatever reason, felt uneasy. He was reminded of Mr. Heely, or Wesley.

“... I’d rather not,” said Foggy, “It’s  — private.”

“Well, we’re all here to expose those vulnerable parts of ourselves, Everett.”

“He said no,” Matt said, a touch sharply. 

“Alright, then what do you think, Laurent?” Mr. Stegeria asked, clearly a little annoyed.

Matt cocked his head a little and chewed his lip.

“He’s … Not always understanding in the way I need him to be?” 

“Oh, because of the blind thing?” One of the men (David) asked.

“... Nnno, not … not because of the blind thing.”

“I understand you plenty, ” Foggy muttered, “I just think you’re also ridiculous.”

“Now, Everett, don’t interrupt.”

“He’s not wrong,” Matt said, grinning a little, “But ah – I just need him to trust me a little more… I know I’ve made mistakes and some … poor decisions -” 

Foggy snorted. That was an understatement. Matt elbowed him in the ribs.

“But …” Matt continued, then paused and seemed to change his mind, “But he farts in bed too much, so I think we’re even.”

Foggy sighed.

It was awkward getting changed in the tiny tent. At least they weren’t alone in that, judging from the echoing half-arguments carried across the campsite. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll close my eyes,” Said Matt, after he gracefully managed to change into a long sleeved sleep shirt and sweatpants without having to stand up.

“Gee, thanks, I’ll just ignore the fact you can hear my dick?” Foggy said, before immediate regret set in.

“What - um - what noises do you think your dick is making?” Matt said, grinning.

“You tell me.”

They sat facing each other, cross legged on the tiny, flimsy tent mattress. The noise of other couples was starting to descend into whispered arguments of demanding the other one move over.

“Is it just me,” said Foggy, “Or is everyone here, like, being absolutely insane? Like I know it’s easy to overshare with strangers, but …”

“But it’s a little much to detail complaints about your husband’s penis? Yeah, it’s weird.”

“And Stegeria seemed a little disappointed you and I didn’t get … more dramatic… Do you think that’s what you were smelling in the food? Is he spiking it to make people more likely to talk?”

Matt leaned back on his hands, “Maybe. I’m not sure how this fits together. I thought this was all just a scam, but … something’s off.”

“I’d get it if he was asking for their social security number or something, but I don’t know what a mobster needs with people’s relationship drama. Writing a self-help book? Farming for karma on Reddit?”

“God only knows.”

Matt sent a text to Danny Rand (in case the magic shit was more significant) before they started settling in for the night. 

Foggy shoved over as far as he could to one side to give Matt a little space to lie down, but still ended up pressed tightly together with him, shoulder to shoulder.

They both lay in silence in the dark for a moment.

“Hey, what you said at the … group dirty laundry thing,” Foggy whispered, “Do you … mean that? Do you think I don’t trust you? Or not understand you? I … kinda thought we were passed all that.”

Matt shook his head, “No, we - we are. I just – I just needed something to say… Do you, uh… Think I’m not going to show up?” 

Foggy paused. The hot spot where Matt’s shoulder was pressed to Foggy’s felt a sudden chill as Matt pulled in on himself.

“I ... understand, Foggy, but … Maybe you don’t trust me, then, if–”

“No! Matt, that’s not…,” Foggy sighed, “I trust you. I just … worry that one day you’re not going to show up because you’ll be dead – really dead, this time. It’s a concern.” 

“I … really try hard to make sure that won’t happen.”

“I know, Matty…” Foggy said, stretching his arm out, maneuvering it under Matt’s head and pulling him close by the shoulder.

Foggy woke up, back sore from the hard ground, shivering in the cold morning air and with Matt’s face buried in the crook of Foggy’s neck, one leg hooked around Foggy’s and one of Foggy’s hands curled up around Matt’s side on his bare skin, slid up under his sleep shirt. He’d never been more comfortable.

Unfortunately, less than thirty seconds later, Matt had woken up, untangled and, clearly red faced and embarrassed about waking up neck-deep in Foggy, ran off to get ready for the day in the cabin where the main offices (and toilets) were. 

Matt had still looked a little embarrassed after they’d finished their not-entirely substantial breakfast of desiccated foodstuffs (Matt had taken a distant whiff of the continental breakfast and shook his head warningly at Foggy) but was able to plaster on the Happy Couple act by the time they arrived at their first mandatory group fun activity, something called “Sensual Breathing.”

It mainly involved the couple standing in some awkward, half-stretched position, staring directly into one another’s eyes and syncing their breathing. When Matt had pointed out that he couldn’t exactly stare into Foggy’s eyes, the instructor had floundered, told Matt to put his hands on Foggy’s face and use his imagination and then panicked and suggested that the two of them go enjoy a walk by the lake with the promise of a refund of their $90 for the activity.

If nothing else, it gave them some time to plan how to approach Stegeria’s office and carefully avoid the topic of how entangled they’d woken up. It was almost peaceful until a fight apparently broke out at the sensual breathing seminar. They’d come back just in time to see Evelynn storm away from Derick, shouting expletives.  

The pottery workshop before lunch basically turned out to be a recreation of the movie Ghost, a movie that Matt had never seen and Foggy was only dimly aware of because of how many parodies he’d encountered. It was almost fun, albeit messy, and Foggy would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying Matt sitting pressed up so close behind him. Foggy wasn’t sure Matt minded either, since he made no comment on his racing heartbeat and, even though Matt kept making grossed out noises whenever he got clay under his nails, Foggy was 99% sure Matt was at least half-hard against his ass (Foggy was 100% sure he himself was too). Unfortunately, before anything could really get going, Cameron hucked his lump of clay across the room in a rage at whatever Marybeth had said to him and stormed out, kicking over another bench in the process, resulting in Beckett and Cathrynn both crashing to the floor and running after him. 

“Beckett’s trying to punch Cameron now.” Foggy narrated, standing up off the pottery bench, “He keeps missing.”

“Which one’s Beckett?”

“The one who was mad that his wife wanted to get married at all after six years and two kids – Oh, Catherynn in with the chair!” he said as Catheryn bounced a wicker chair off the back of Cameron’s head.

“You know, this is more fun than I thought it would be.” said Matt.

“Won’t you be joining us for lunch?” One of the liaisons asked as Matt and Foggy returned to their tent for their various jerky lunch.

“I’ve got some food allergies…” 

“Oh, well, everything we have is nut-free, gluten-free and vegetarian. And Kosher,” she said, her smile fixed in a creepy way, “Please, I insist you join us.”

“Oh, well, come on Everett, it’ll be fine.” Matt said, grabbing Foggy’s arm, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s safe.”

“Uh - sure?”

They grabbed a table on the edge of the eating area, close to the edge of the woods. After pretending to eat for fifteen minutes, Matt managed to stealth toss both bagel sandwiches unerringly between the trees when one of the liaisons looked away.

“There’s people missing,” Foggy muttered to Matt, “Marybeth and Cameron – and the couple that was fighting at the breathing thing this morning.”

“Hm.”

Matt held up a hand and twitched his head slightly. Foggy recognized this move; Matt was trying to open up his hearing to a wider range and ignore everything closer. 

Matt frowned and relaxed a little, “They’re gone.”

“Gone?” 

“Check the parking lot later, see if their cars are still here. Did Rand ever get back to you?”

“Not yet.”

Matt drummed his fingers on the table, “This is much weirder than I thought it was going to be, too.”

Of course, whatever they’d been thinking about the disappearances and the food immediately left their brains when the next activity was announced.

Erotic Yoga.

Foggy just about choked. Matt actually did.

“This isn’t actually Yoga. This is just… stretching,” Matt hissed, before leaning back from the strange leg-interlocked position he and Foggy were in. It was actually much less erotic than the pottery session and far less so than the position they’d found themselves in when they woke up.

“Stretching and climbing on each other,” said Foggy when Matt leaned back up. They were supposed to kiss at this point, but they hadn’t and nobody was paying enough attention to them, because yet another fight was breaking out.

“So, I think we can definitively say that this guy is not just a mobster, right?” Foggy whispered, his groin basically directly in front of Matt’s face and Matt’s knees uncomfortably digging into the small of Foggy’s back, “So, what do you think?”

“Tonight.” Matt whispered back, “Office. Shh.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

They were able to skip dinner due to the fact that Catherynn had gone after her husband with a plastic knife and the remaining guests had scattered.

“Nobody’s looking, Stegeria’s by the campfire still,” Foggy hissed through the jimmied-open window to the office in the cabin, “Just let me in already, I can't fit through the window.”

“Shh!”

The door clicked, thankfully, and Foggy slipped inside.

“I don’t even know what I’m trying to find,” Matt admitted, “The only handwritten stuff feels like expense accounts, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.”

Foggy flipped through the binder on the table, careful to keep the page it was on and the binder itself carefully in place. It just looked like the average kind of handwritten piles of numbers they’d need days to sort through.

“I don’t know… Honestly, if it wasn’t for everything else about this place, I’d say it’s on the up and up,” Foggy said, leaning heavily on the wall. Matt paused.

“Hm.”

“What?”

Matt stepped towards the section of floor Foggy was standing on and tapped it with the toe of his boot.

“There’s something under here…”

“I swear to God, Matt, if that’s a secret trap door and we’re about to enter some Scooby Doo bullshit…”

“Sorry Fogs,” Matt said, sliding his fingers into a crevice in the wood. Something clicked and a section of the floor slid away, revealing a narrow, steep staircase.

“... Really wish Rand had gotten back to us now.” 

Matt wrinkled his nose as they descended down the staircase. Foggy refused to allow him to cover their tracks by closing the door, insisting on knowing where the escape route was.

It was about as bad as Foggy could have imagined. The walls of the basement were stone, etched with strange sigils that emitted an ominous, pale glow and a no-shit legit altar sat in the center of the room. And sat along the far wall…

“Matt. Remind me, did you ever watch The Ring?”

“No – we were going to rent it, you wanted to get Friday the Thirteenth… Why?”

“Well, uh… We found the missing people… And by people, I mean, deformed, screaming, desiccated corpses.”

Matt froze.

“... They’re … not dead?”

Foggy stared at the bodies, “Uh. They look pretty dead.”

“Heartbeats. Faint, but…”

“So, what, do we call an ambulance? What the fuck do we do?”

They managed to maintain their dignity and quietly climbed the stairs out of the basement, carefully slid the trapdoor shut and, after letting Foggy out and locking the door again, Matt wriggled out the window.

“Okay. Okay. Uh. Okay,” Foggy said, aware of the overwhelming thundering of his heart, “I say … we calmly go to our tent, get our bags and run away and never come back.”

“Foggy…”

“Okay, I know you’re a hero and don’t want to leave these people to die, but consider: they are terrible .”

“... Yes, but…”

“Do you know how to fight an evil wizard, Matt?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever tried.”

“What if he ring-corpses you?!” Foggy snapped, voice a hoarse whisper, “Look, fuck the bags, let’s just go home and get some back-up. Danny Rand or Dr. Strange – “

“I don’t know Dr. Strange.”

“Matt. ”

Matt grit his teeth for a moment, “... Okay. Okay, let’s get the bags and get to the car before anyone notices. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Of course, their silent scramble from the tent to the car was interrupted when, scuttling between the tents, they ran into Stegeria, eyes glowing white, holding the rapidly-desiccating body of one of the attendees. 

For a moment, the three of them stood in a frozen stalemate. Then Matt unhooked Foggy’s metal travel bottle with one hand and hucked it directly at Stegeria’s head. Stegeria made a horrible, unearthly screech when the metal bottle slammed into his head and Matt and Foggy both took off at a run to the parking lot.

Foggy hit the locks once they were inside the car, as if that would do any good at all.

“What the fuck!?” he hissed to Matt, pulling the car keys out of his back pocket.

“I don’t know! We have to call Danny, I don’t know how to fight a - whatever the fuck this is.”

“Evil wizard,” Foggy said as he started the engine.

“Whatever – just…” Matt took a breath, “Foggy. You need to go back –” 

“No.”

“ – home, get Danny, get whoever and –”

“No!”

“ – come back for me. I’ll stop him from chasing you!”

“Fuck off , Matt!” Foggy snarled, “Stop being so fucking self-sacrificing! Newsflash, asshole! I’m happier if we die together than if you die trying to save me.” 

Matt growled and went for the door handle.

It clicked uselessly in his hands and the door refused to open.

“Child-safety locks, asshole.”

Matt scowled, “You got a child lock installed on the passenger se–”

“Yeah, I did, because I knew eventually you’d try and bail out of the car on the … what?”

Matt was facing forward, teeth grit in a feral snarl. Foggy looked through the windshield. 

Stegeria was standing in front of the car. His eyes were still glowing that unearthly white, visibly bright even over the illumination of the headlights.

“Okay,” said Foggy. Then he slammed on the gas pedal.

Thump-th-thump!

Stegeria didn’t have time to react before the car whammed into him, sending him flying over the hood and roof.

“... Foggy…”

“One sec.”

Foggy pulled the gear into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal again.

Thud-th-thud!

The car rocked for a moment as it rolled its tires over a lump. Foggy spun the steering wheel and hit the gear shift again and pulled the car quickly out of the parking lot and out onto the road.

Neither he, nor Matt, said anything for a few minutes.

“... Foggy.”

“Yeah Matt?”

“Did you…”

“I did, yes.”

“Okay.”

Another few minutes of silence passed.

“I don’t think I killed him. I mean, he was clearly an evil wizard. And probably magic. And – I feel like, evil magic isn’t … that’s not a human, even if he’s ....”

“Sure.”

“Like, okay, if he was a mobster, that’s one thing, but he was – doing some fucked-up magic.”

“Yeah, no, I got it.”

“...Do you want to call Rand?”

“Sure.”

Danny, it turned out, did know Dr. Strange somehow and wound up texting them back as they crossed the bridge back into Manhattan. 

“Yeah it is fine here mat,” read Matt’s phone in it’s robot voice, “No cabin or tents tho weird magic bubble. Ell oh ell strange says we can fix the victims. Do you know anything about pile of goop in perking lot where you said guy was?”

Foggy slapped the steering wheel and sighed, “Ha, there you go. Pile of goo. Didn’t kill a guy. Killed a – an evil pile of goo.”

“I thought you didn’t think you killed him?”

‘I didn’t. I reduced him to goo. Totally different.”

Matt’s phone buzzed again.

“Strange says it was demon that targets couples. You guys were fine he says it only can hurt people who are in love and you were just faking it ell oh ell.”

“O-oh,” said Foggy, “Well,  thank God, that’s, uh, that’s a relief.”

“Yeah,” said Matt, “Not like we’re… yeah.”

The silence was somehow more awkward than any of the previous awkward moments they’d had the whole weekend and lasted until Foggy pulled up in front of Matt’s building.

“So – Uh. Weird weekend, huh? I’ll ... see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, running his tongue over his lower lip, “Yeah, Monday. See you then, Fogs.” 

Then he slipped out the car door with his backpack and vanished into the building without pausing.

For some reason, Foggy couldn’t help but think he’d fucked something up somehow.

Chapter Text

“I’m surprised you’re not going out tonight. I thought Halloween was a big night for crime,” Foggy said, locking the door to the office in the cool night air. Karen had taken off early, but he and Matt had been slightly later than normal finishing up a motion. 

Matt just shrugged, “It’s also a big night for cops. If anything major comes up, Daredevil’s only a stolen scarf away.”

“Not my scarf,” Foggy said, tucking it deeper inside his jacket, “I need it so my neck doesn’t get cold.”

“Your cold neck trumps my extremely important work?”

“It trumps your illegal vigilante activity, yes,” Foggy said, lowering his voice as they stepped out onto the street.

“What if it’s an emergency?” Matt said, grinning and making a slow and extremely unsubtle reach around Foggy’s back to grab the scarf. Foggy turned and pulled back from Matt’s hand. 

“Nice try! You’ll stretch it all out with your giant head.”

Matt laughed and made another grab for it, “You got such a low quality scarf that it’ll get stretched out? Who are you, Jess?”

Foggy ducked again, “Is she still complaining about that?”

“She’s never stopped. Even while I was dead, I think I heard her bitching about it. But you’ve got that HB&C money saved up, don’t you?”

“I do and I’m not wasting it replacing scarves you stretch out for the purposes of cr– Augh!”

Foggy squawked as Matt made a quick (and successful) grab at the scarf, yanking it (and Foggy) close. 

“Good job, you successfully won this game of Grab Foggy,” Foggy said, inches from Matt’s face.

Matt grinned, “What do I win?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you’re still a long way from the playoffs.”

Matt relented his grip and let Foggy straighten up before grabbing his upper arm and falling into step beside him.

Ever since they’d gotten back from the Couples Retreat/Wizard Death Ritual, he and Matt had entered some kind of new, flirty equilibrium. Matt was a little more handsy than he’d been before, except maybe on drunken nights back at school. Foggy wasn’t sure entirely what to make of it. Maybe he was just, finally, actually comfortable with revealing his abilities around Foggy. Foggy didn’t dare hope for it to mean anything else.

“Is Halloween like … really bad, smell-wise?” Foggy said as they passed a moldering pile of carved-too-early jack o'lanterns, “Is everything real… rotten-pumpkin-y?”

“It’s not fantastic, but it’s kind of a novelty from the usual stink. You know, sewage, garbage, raccoon and human urine.”

“Sounds ... lovely.”

“I’m used to it. And I can always distract myself with the better smelling things around me,” Matt said, nudging Foggy a little.

“Oh yeah, like what? Other animal’s urine?”

Matt’s grin faltered a little, “Uh – nevermind. Do you want to grab some dinner or something?”

“Absolutely.”

The city was chilly but alive with people doing standard Halloween activities. That is, parents taking their kids trick-or-treating and everyone else getting drunk outside. 

“How about pizza?” Foggy said, looking across the street to a restaurant, “And then we can go back to my place and get a head start on the deposition tomorrow?”

“Wow, deposition overtime. Very festive.”

“I can’t think of anything scarier.”

Foggy snorted as they approached the restaurant, small children darting between them.

“What?”

“There’s a kid dressed like Daredevil.”

“What – Seriously?”

“Yep. Red pajamas, rollerblading pads, red bike helmet with horns stuck on. Adorable. Very, very accurate.”

Matt just groaned as Foggy pulled the door to the restaurant open.

A banner above them in bright orange and purple proclaimed the day’s deal. ‘ Halloween Spooktacular Romantic's Pizza Package! 1 large pizza, dozen wings and two drinks for $25!’

Foggy read it out loud to Matt.

“Wow. Prices sure have gone up,” Matt said, “And what does Halloween have to do with romance?”

“Not sure. From what I remember about this pizza chain, the spooktacular part is how sick we felt after. But I blame the ranch dressing on the wings for that.” Foggy said, before stepping up to the counter. 

“Hey there!” said Foggy, “We –” he gestured to himself and Matt, “Are a couple and would like to order the Romantic Pizza Package, please.”

“Uh... Okay,” the Teenager behind the counter said, seeming a little lost, “So, what do you want on your pizza?”

Matt suddenly tightened his grip on Foggy’s arm, “Foggy – Uh, can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh. Sure?”

Matt pulled Foggy away from the counter, face looking a little tight.

“What’s the matter?”

“We – we don’t need to do this. We’re not broke college students, we can ... we don’t need to lie about being a couple to get a cheap meal.”

“Okay, well, it’s not that cheap anymore, so it balances out.” 

“No – I mean,” Matt said, rubbing his forehead, frustrated, “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to go to a different pizza place?”

“No – well, yes, this place is terrible. But we don’t – we don’t have to pretend to be a couple.”

“You don’t need to be a couple to order it, you know,” the teenager called from behind the counter, “Just uh, so you know.”

“Oh. Do you … want to go somewhere else, then, Matt?” Foggy looked at Matt, who’s growing frustration was extremely obvious.

“I would.” said the teenager, unhelpfully.

They ended up going to the slightly fancier place a block away from Foggy’s apartment, ordering a pizza (with the company card, Foggy claimed since they were working it was a business pizza) and forgoing the wings. Matt was subdued on their walk, a far cry from when they’d been playing grab-scarf in the street. Foggy was again struck with the thought he’d maybe fucked something up. 

“... Okay, what’s the matter?” Foggy said once they arrived at his apartment, “You’re being weird.”

“Nothing, Fog, I’m fine,” Matt said, setting his braille-reader and laptop out on the coffee table.

“Come on, you’ve been weird since the pizza place.” Foggy said, sitting down on the couch next to Matt

“I just…,” Matt said, then paused, apparently rolling something over in his mind, “Lying about being a couple …”

“What? We’ve done that lots of times.”

“Yeah, I know — I just… I don’t like lying about that.”

“Since when?”

“Since – I don’t know, it feels weird to be lying to get a discount on pizza.”

“Annnd then we didn’t, dude, what’s the problem?”

Matt sighed, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Foggy shrugged and set out plates on the coffee table, “What, you embarrassed to date me?” he said, pushing down a buried insecurity. Surely Matt wouldn’t–

“ No, Foggy, you know I don’t think that,” Matt snapped.

Okay. Good then.

“Okay, okay, I’m joking. Look, I wouldn’t blame you, you don’t know what I look like, you don’t know how super-hot I am.” Foggy said, unsure why he was suddenly picking at this.

“I – “ Matt faced down at the floor and slid a slice of pizza onto his plate, “I’ve got a good idea...”

“You got a sense of a vague outline, or something, right? You’re missing the handsome details.” 

“I – I like the shape you take up in space,” Matt said quietly.

“Uh huh,” Foggy took a bite of pizza and then looked at Matt, “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means what I said, Foggy, I like your ... “ Matt waved a hand impatiently, “Vague outline. You don’t need to sell me on your super-hotness.”

“Ah, well tha– Uh. What?”

Matt busied himself with peeling a mushroom off his slice of pizza and putting it on Foggy’s plate and didn’t respond.

“Matt…?”

“What, Foggy?” Matt said to his plate.

Foggy couldn’t help but grin, “Do you think I’m super-hot?”

“I, uh – I said, you didn’t need to sell me on it.”

Foggy scooched closer, “So that’s a yes.”

Matt frowned, but didn't scooch away. Foggy knew his heart was beating a gleeful mile-a-minute and couldn't help staring at Matt’s face as a blush rose. 

“Are you – are you upset about us lying about being a couple because you want us to be a couple? ”

Matt ran a hand down his face and adjusted his glasses, not stopping Foggy when Foggy reached up to pull the glasses off his face totally. 

“I … plead the fifth.”

“Oh, waaay too late for that, Matty. You like me!” Foggy crowed. 

Matt stood suddenly, pushing away from the couch with a growl and the noise was just Daredevil-y enough to pop that cheerful balloon of joy that had been rising in Foggy’s chest.

“Okay, enough! I know you’re not … not interested, but you don’t need to make fun of me.” Matt snapped, swallowing hard.

What?

“I’m … not?” Foggy said, then rethought it, “I mean – I’m not making fun of you but… why do you think I’m not interested?”

Matt’s posture deflated, “Because you’re – you’re not.”

“Wouldn’t I know if I wasn’t interested?”

Matt gaped at him.

“I’ve been … hitting on you for - for fifteen years! You never - you didn’t respond to anything!”

“I can’t respond if I thought you were joking!”

“I’ve been playing grab-ass with you in the office for a month and a half! I thought it was pretty clear!”

“If you thought I wasn’t interested, then why did you keep … ass-grabbing? – Not, literally, but you’ve been … cuddly.”

“I – “ Matt flushed again, “I’m not cuddly. ”

“You’re cuddly as fuck, dude, but that’s not the point, why were you, if you didn’t think I was interested?”

Matt fiddled with the button on his shirtsleeve, “I - I don’t know. It was fun and I – like your, uh… texture.”

“My texture. ”

Matt threw his hands up in the air, “It’s hard to explain! Everything about … everything I experience, Foggy, is hard to explain! So yeah, I ... like the shape you take up in space, I like your texture and how you sound and smell and … yeah,” he finished, somewhat lamely.

Foggy exhaled.

“But … you do think I’m super-hot though.”

“For whatever that’s worth without the visuals, yes.”

“And you – you do want us to be … a for-real couple, not just a fake one for scamming pizza places and wizards?”

Matt shrugged a little, “Yeah…?”

Foggy nodded, “Okay… So, are you going to stay standing or … do you want to sit down and touch my dick or something?”

Matt grinned, face still a little red, “Wow, buy a guy dinner first.”

“Uh! I did buy you dinner!” Foggy gestured to the pizza still on the coffee table.

“We paid with the company card. You said it was business pizza.”

“Well, my name’s on the company card.”

“So’s mine.”

“So … you’re not gonna touch my dick, then?”

“I admit, it’s a texture I’ve been eager to experience.”

Foggy burst out laughing, a little giddy and fell back into the couch, “Oh man…”

Matt sat down next to him, knees brushing Foggy’s.

“So, uh… now what?”

“We … shit, Matt, we really do have to work tonight, because of the business pizza.”

“Yeah. But what’s a little fiscal misappropriation between uh … friends?” 

“It feels premature to call us more than that, since nobody’s touched a dick yet.”

“And there’s … other things to do first.” 

“Yeah.”

Matt leaned over and kissed him then. It was scratchy from Matt’s perpetual stubble, a little greasy from pizza, tinged with the taste of stale coffee and absolutely perfect.

Foggy pulled back for a second, gasping slightly.

“What? What’s the matter?” Matt said, suddenly concerned.

“I just … That evil wizard could have actually killed us.”

“Oh. … Yes. He could have.”

“Good thing I ran him over.”

Matt nodded, “Yeah, definitely,” and threw one leg over Foggy's lap to straddle him.

“Fuckin’ … spooktacular,” Foggy whispered.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Matt, and kissed him again.