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Foggy was queuing up in Greggs, already anticipating the coffee and bacon roll he’d soon get his paws on. He was lacking caffeine and patience, so that was his only excuse for reacting the way he did to the porridge guy.
A man had just been served, and Foggy didn’t pay him any mind until the man tried to exit the shop. This particular branch was tiny, it was one of those mini ones that don’t have tables and chairs. The place was like a cardboard box and Foggy had to suck in his gut to avoid knocking a box of Yum Yums off a shelf. The man was pale, dressed like every other commuter in a dark coat, and white shirt, but he cradled his little tub of porridge protectively to his chest. He ambled down the aisle, accidentally elbowed Foggy right in his chest. Foggy somehow missed the cane tucked under his arm so he instinctively snapped, “Watch out, mate. What, are you blind or something?”
Several people fell silent and some tutted. Foggy blanched as the man turned to him and raised an impressive eyebrow.
Cane. Glasses. Oh, shit.
“Yeah, I am, actually. Is that a problem for you?”
“No! No problem. I’m really sorry. I open my mouth and bollocks comes out— I haven’t had a coffee today so my brain is currently offline. Not that that’s any excuse.”
“It’s fine,” the guy laughed, and he looked a lot friendlier when he did that. Phew. Foggy’s motormouth had got the better of him and then saved him. “You know, your voice sounds so familiar. Have we met? It’s not a line, I promise.”
Had they met? Foggy gave him a somewhat sceptical once-over but when the penny dropped, he whooped loudly. “Yes! Yes, I know you. Oh my God, Matt Murdock. How did I almost walk past you? My old uni roomie. Whoa. You look so different...”
Somebody cleared their throat. Uh-oh. Foggy was holding up the line. He shot an apologetic grimace at the girl behind him. "Matt, I have to order, but it was great meeting you. Hey, if you’re ever in the area—”
“Yeah, of course. Do you want to exchange numbers?”
Foggy blinked. He somehow hadn’t expected that. This was a fleeting meeting, he didn’t think he’d see this guy again. But sure, getting in touch with his old mate would be good. They traded numbers and Foggy set off for work.
Foggy managed to get to work on time. Peter was already there, of course. Sat in one of the classrooms, waiting for the morning meeting. He’d saved a spot for Foggy so Foggy slunk in and dropped down into his chair. Wade wasn’t there yet. Probably late as usual.
The day passed in its usual tedious fashion. The only thing that perked him up was Wade’s promise that they’d hit the pub after work. At five, Foggy packed up his stuff and lingered outside the college, waiting for Wade. Peter was working late, as he often did. Marking papers. He was the youngest teacher in Marvel Training and was determined to make a good impression. And he wasn’t much of a drinker, anyway.
“I’m gonna drink until your jokes actually make me laugh!” Wade told Foggy as he bounded out of the college and up to the bench where Foggy sat. The evening was cold and dark, and his arse was getting numb on the freezing-cold bench so he was glad to finally get up and begin walking.
“Well, I’m going to drink until you look good,” Foggy told him. Wade clutched at his chest, staggering backwards from an imagined strike.
“Ouch! Dunk on the cancer survivor! You bitch!”
“Oh, come on. You were such a prick to me when I first joined the college, you can stand a joke.”
“I was tryna toughen you up,” Wade protested. They began walking up the road, passing brightly-lit shops and pedestrians. “Education is a cutthroat sector to work in.”
“I still can’t believe that they let you teach.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They reached the closest watering hole, a Wetherspoon’s. On Foggy’s wages, he wasn’t going to spring for anything better. And Wade didn't care. Foggy had never met somebody who could knock back liquor like Wade Wilson. He used to joke that Tubthumping was actually written about him.
Foggy sighed when he stepped out of the cold and into the warm. He was instantly encased in heat and the hubbub of dozens of voices. He and Wade approached their favourite table. It was right at the back, out of sight of the door.
They talked as they drank. This was Wade, so the conversation mainly steered into topics centred around a certain maths teacher, named Peter Parker. Foggy was happy to oblige him. Offering support to his lovesick friend helped take his mind off his own stagnant love life.
At some point, Wade got a call and excused himself, jogging out of the bar with his phone pressed to his ear. Foggy recognised the goofy grin; his daughter Ellie must have called him. She was a good kid.
He sat and drank, scrolling on his phone. It wasn’t late, a few minutes to half-six. He glanced at his newest contact. Matt Murdock. Would Matt be free? Did he live nearby? Foggy hadn’t asked him. They’d chatted in Gregg’s, exchanged numbers and gone their separate ways. Would it be weird to ask Matt if he wanted to join him at the pub?
Wade didn’t seem to be leaving his phone call anytime soon. When you got Wade on a topic, he could talk for hours. And Foggy was so damn happy with him. There had been custody issues for a while now, Wade’s ex-girlfriend, Carmelita, was finally letting him spend time with Ellie. He should probably leave him to it.
Foggy dithered for a full two minutes and then hit the call button before he had a chance to think better. Matt responded almost immediately.
“Foggy?”
“Hey! It’s Foggy! But you already know that because you literally just said my name. Sorry.”
God, he’d missed that laugh. “It’s fine, Foggy. What’s up?”
“Um, I’m at the pub with a friend and he’s left me on my own. So sad. If you’re free, you could swing by and have a drink with me? I mean, if you’re in the area, I never even asked if you live locally—”
“Yeah! Yes, um, I’m — I live near the station, actually. Where are you?” He could hear faint thuds from the other line, like Matt was opening drawers or something.
Foggy relayed the address and they said their goodbyes. He sat back, pleased. He really hoped they could be mates again. They’d had some crazy days in uni. Silly stunts, pub crawls. But Matt was more than just a pretty face. He was incredibly intelligent and had done terrifically well in every exam. Foggy’s smile faded. It had been a long time since uni. His life had taken a sharp U-turn and he wasn’t the same man anymore. His goals had shifted. He’d studied law with Matt at the University of Bristol and they’d had so many drunken discussions about life after school.
They were supposed to start a firm together.
Foggy gulped down the rest of his beer and ordered another on the app. Fuck it, he needed to be drunker for this. Matt was going to ask him about work and he was going to sit there and smile at his best friend (and first crush) and tell him — tell him…
“Hey! Ellie said hello. Oh, did somethin’ happen? You’re always Foggy but now you’re looking a little cloudy.” Wade threw himself into his seat, throwing his wallet on the table.
Foggy sighed.
For every new person that entered the pub, Wade nudged Foggy and whispered “Is that him?” Even the women. Wade was extremely interested in meeting the man who’d unwittingly been the catalyst for Foggy’s Bi Awakening ™. Wade was queer himself. The two of them were still trying to suss out Peter. They hadn’t known him for long but Wade was already (in his own words) ‘simping’ for him.
But Foggy was doing the same thing. Anxiously scanning every face. Until—
“That’s him,” he breathed. Matt had no right to look that gorgeous. He wandered in, sweeping his cane in front of him. Foggy’s heart clenched painfully. It was like being a stupid teenage boy again. He really hadn’t learnt a thing since university, had he?
“Oh shit, he’s hot. He’s no Peter Parker but he’s way out of both our leagues. Fight you for him?” Wade whispered back and Foggy snorted.
“He’s also very heterosexual so get your mind out of the gutter. I’m going to go and say hi.”
Matt greeted him with a handshake and Foggy led him to their table. Matt took his arm without asking, just as he had in school. Wade was pulling faces at them both but Foggy ignored that. This didn’t mean anything. Matt had always done that.
He’s just holding my arm so he won’t walk into a chair, Foggy told himself. But it felt nice to have the reassuring solidity of a hand holding his bicep.
Matt and Wade said their hellos and Wade had the good grace to actually be polite. Foggy had been mildly concerned that Wade would bring up Foggy’s crush or act bizarre. But he actually was decent. Matt was nice. A lot less smiley than he was in uni, Foggy noted. But maybe he’d matured. He hoped he still had reasons to smile.
Matt insisted on ordering the first round and neither Foggy nor Wade protested. It seemed rude to refuse.
“What do you feel like?”
“Pint of Carlsberg would do me. Cheers.” Wade said.
But as Matt stood up, Foggy hesitated. “You sure you don’t want me to order? I don’t mind.” The pub was packed and he had visions of some lout bumping into Matt and knocking him on his arse.
“It’s okay, trust me,” Matt said, in a conspiratorial way. “Once this lot see the glasses and cane, they’ll suddenly become really accommodating and leap back to avoid accidentally knocking me over. It’s actually quite funny.”
“Okay,” Foggy smiled.
Matt headed off, sweeping his cane in a tight arc in front of him. Foggy watched him approach the bar. He grinned, seeing Matt stand very conspicuously and make a big show of readjusting his cane and switching it to the other hand. People noticed and awkwardly shuffled to the side.
“Okay, now that he’s gone, it’s time for the girls to have a gossip sesh,” Wade said, as soon as Matt was out of earshot. “Nice of Murdock to get the first round. I like him.”
“Yeah, he’s a nice guy. I mean. He was really nice in school. I don’t know what he’s like now.”
“I can’t believe I met the Matt Murdock. The formative figure of young Foggy’s budding sexuality—”
“Shut up,” Foggy hissed, nudging him in the ribs. Matt was still too far to hear them but he still didn’t want Wade crowing about his sex life. Especially since the two of them were regulars and he’d die if somebody he knew overheard this. Matt was queuing up with the other customers. It looked like somebody was offering him their place in the queue but he shook his head.
“What does he do now? He ain’t rich, I can tell you that. That’s an H&M coat.” Wade plucked up Matt’s discarded coat from the chair. “I’m just trying to suss the guy out, see if he’s good enough for my bestie.”
“Please stop talking. I have no idea what he does now. I’ve barely spoken to him. If he asks me if I’m a lawyer like we dreamed about, I’m going to lose my — Shit, he’s coming back.”
“Did you catch that? Everybody gave me a wide berth!” Matt said as he set three drinks on the table. Aw, somebody had given him a tray. Foggy had been here dozens of times and the staff never gave him a tray when he was bringing multiple drinks over from the bar.
“You were like Moses parting the Red Sea,” Foggy mumbled as Matt snickered. “Very impressive.”
“You know, I never asked you what you did for a living,” Matt said, as he lowered himself into his chair. Wade and Foggy exchanged nervous glances.
“I’m a teacher at a training provider,” Wade blurted out. “Foggy works with me. I teach Security.”
Oh, thank God. For all his joking, Wade was actually a fantastic friend. And he knew exactly what Foggy was worried about. Foggy sat back in his chair, listening to Wade prattle on about his job.
“Yeah, and everybody wants to be a CCTV operator ‘cause you get to sit on your arse and just stare at screens but there’s more people applying for those jobs than they’ve got vacancies, you know?”
“Really?” Matt said. He seemed to be genuinely interested, sitting forward intently. Foggy had always loved it when Matt would sit and listen to him. It was kind of unnerving to have such an intelligent man focused completely on you. But he still craved it. But Matt was talking to Wade, not him. Foggy wondered if it would be bad form to slink away to the bar. “And Foggy, you work with Wade?”
“Yup.” He really hoped there would be no follow-up questions. Teaching was a respectable profession. Or, at least, it would be a job that Matt found respectable.
“That’s great. So, Foggy, tell me about the dizzying life of a teacher.”
“There’s not much to tell. I like it, it’s fine. I’m good at my job.”
“I don’t recall you mentioning wanting to work in education.. Before, I mean. In uni.”
Foggy shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, sometimes your career can veer suddenly to the side. I like it well enough. It’s stable.”
“Hmm…”
“Wow, I’m making myself sound like the biggest dullard alive, aren’t I? I’m even boring myself right now,”
“No, you’re fine.”
Foggy propped his chin on his hands and smiled fondly at his old friend. “How about you? What do you do?”
I’m a lawyer.”
Fuck.
Foggy shot Wade a wild-eyed look and his friend took the hint. He pounced on Matt, asking him about the job, did he love it, what did he do, did he work with interesting people?
Matt hesitated. “It has its moments. My work has taken me to some strange places. Honestly, I love it. I wouldn’t change anything about it. Except—”
Foggy’s stomach took that moment to rumble obnoxiously. Matt grinned. “I think we need to get you something to eat, mate.”
“Nah, I’m okay—”
“Please.” Matt felt around on the table and slid the glossy menu over. “Get whatever you want, I’m buying.”
Foggy hesitated.
“I’ll get something for myself, too. So you won’t be lonely,” Matt said, teasing him. “Wade, do you want a bite to eat?”
Foggy guiltily requested a pie and chips and Matt had a jacket potato. Wade asked for a tuna melt. Foggy felt starved so he didn’t talk for most of the meal. He listened to Wade and Matt talk. He probably should have made conversation but instead, he scarfed down steak chunks swimming in gravy.
It had been lovely, spending time with his best friend and his old friend. Two people he really cared about, under one roof. Matt and Wade were getting on like a house on fire and Foggy liked to see it. And Matt had paid for their meal and hadn’t put up too much of a fuss when Wade insisted on paying for one last round.
Wade bought Sourz shots because he’d somehow not got the memo that the three friends weren’t women on a hen night. Foggy knocked back sickly-sweet cherry and chortled at the faces Matt was pulling when he drank his own.
The three of them left the bar, and Wade bid Foggy and Matt goodbye. He had to hurry home to his roommate, she was an elderly lady called Al and he had to help her get to bed. Foggy hugged him hard in that clumsy, stupid way that you do when you might have had a few too many shots. It was all Wade’s fault, anyway.
“I’m going to get an Uber. Want to split the ride?” Foggy meant nothing by it. He wasn’t staring at Matt’s rosy mouth and dreaming of kissing it. Or running his hands through his thick, dark hair. Matt was straight. Matt was unattainable. Matt was — Matt was shaking his head.
“Sorry, Foggy, I was planning to walk home. But I had a really nice night.”
You said that as if you don’t have many nice nights, Foggy thought. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he said, “I had a nice time too. It was good to see you again.”
Matt smiled. Foggy had forgotten how beautiful he looked when he smiled.
Foggy was outside his house when the old craving set in. He ignored it for a bit but then checked the pocket of his coat in the hall.
“Come on, I know you’re in here,” he whined, jamming his hands in his coat pockets. His search only turned up old train tickets and a stick of chewing gum. Oh yeah. He’d given his last few fags to Marci two days ago.
He could go the night without them. But he’d prefer not to. He checked the time on his watch. Quarter to ten. That wasn’t too bad. He could pop to the Tesco express down the road, he’d be back in half an hour. His mind made up, he set off.
He got the cigarettes and then bought a chocolate bar as well. Pocketed it and trudged home. He should have worn his winter coat, the one with the hood. During the few minutes he’d been in Tesco, rain had started. Dark clouds overhead sent bursts of rain bucketing down.
He turned his collar up as far as it would go but he was already getting soaked. His hair fell limply down his brow, getting in his eyes. He wanted to get home and sit by the fire.
But when he was crossing the street, he saw something that made him pause. That was Johnny's car. His neighbour. Nice guy. There was a figure crouched down by it, jiggling the driver’s side door handle. As Foggy watched, the guy picked up a crowbar and hefted it in his hands, preparing to smash the glass.
Foggy did something very stupid. Very regrettable.
He shouted out.
“Hey! Get away from there!”
The bloke turned. His hoodie hid most of his face but what Foggy could see didn’t inspire any confidence in him. Didn’t look like the sort of guy you want to bump into on a dark night. And here Foggy was. Provoking him. Oh, good job, Nelson.
Provoking a carjacker. Who was wielding a crowbar.
Foggy ran.
His body wasn’t made for running. On a full stomach, with alcohol sloshing in his belly. He staggered along the streets, slipping on the rain-slick pavement. What a fucking idiot, what did he think he was doing, playing hero? He was going to get stabbed in an alleyway and it all could have been avoided if he’d minded his own business—
Somebody pushed past him, the first person he’d seen since he’d gone running in the rain.
Foggy’s panicked thought — when he saw the man — was that the car thief had an accomplice. But the man pushed past him, advancing on the attacker.
Foggy hid.
He hid between the hulking frame of a white van and a blue BMW, not even daring to make a run for it.
Finally, he heard nothing except ragged breathing. He cowered when a masked head peered at him, over the bonnet of the car.
“Jesus Christ!” Foggy gasped.
“You alright?”
Foggy tried to stand but his legs were like jelly. He trembled, clinging to the car for balance.
“Give me your hand.” The voice was soft but urgent. Foggy took the gloved hand that was offered to him.
The man was dressed head-to-toe in black. His face was hidden by a black mask.
The man helped him stand. When he no longer felt like he was going to puke or faint, he released the breath he’d been holding and shakily said, “I know you. From the papers. You’re Daredevil.”
Daredevil nodded. “Brixton is my territory. I protect it.”
“Am I… ” He tried to assemble his muddied thoughts into order. “Am I in trouble? Are the police gonna….?”
“No. You can leave. “
“The guy, the one with the, uh—” He made a gesture with his hands, spacing them roughly the length of a crowbar. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Daredevil. “He escaped me.” Most of his face was nothing but swathes of dark fabric, but the anger was written across the scowling mouth. “I’ll get him next time, don't worry.”
“Well, I’m really grateful you saved me. If you’re ever in the area, I live right next door to the bloke whose car almost got jacked. I got a green door and there’s a welcome mat. You can’t miss it. Uh, if you ever get tired on patrol, just knock on the door and you can come in for a cuppa.” What was he thinking? Offering tea to a vigilante? “And biscuits too — if you want.”
“You got McVities?"
“Yeah, of course. And Jammy Dodgers.”
Daredevil grinned. “Thanks, that’s nice of you. I probably can’t take you up on it, but it’s still nice of you. You take care, okay?”