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The ‘Spin the Bottle’ Kiss
The first time Matt and Foggy kiss, they are in their freshmen year of law school. They haven’t known each other for very long, maybe a few months at most, but Foggy can already say that Matt is the best friend that he’s ever had.
And despite what some of his classmates (i.e. Marci Stahl, the scary hot girl from his Torts class, and her clique of equally attractive and terrifying friends) say, his and Matt’s relationship is strictly platonic. Sure, they’ve told each other things they’ve never dared tell anyone else, and Foggy’s pretty sure that Matt is his Hetero Life Partner, but that’s just because they just click, alright? What they have is like a Kirk and Spock kind of bond, so obviously, it isn’t gay at all.
As with any friendship, there are sacrifices involved. On Foggy’s end, it includes being mindful of the shampoos and deodorants he uses due to Matt’s delicate nose, and agreeing to stay up into the early hours of the morning to read textbook passages aloud to Matt before an impending exam (although, to be honest, that doesn’t even count as a sacrifice, because those late-night study sessions always end up being a lot of fun).
On Matt’s end, it includes taking any and all of his romantic escapades to his significant other’s room (because, seriously, Foggy absolutely does not want to walk into his own dorm room and be reminded of Matt’s hot grinding sessions with all of the various women that he manages to seduce) and serving as his personal cheerleader when all Foggy wants to do is curl up and die from all of the studying he has to do.
And in this instance, it also involves him reluctantly going to various campus social events that Foggy wants to go to.
It’s a Friday night in the middle of November, and Foggy has begged and guilted Matt into accompanying him to a huge talked-about party at one of the frat houses across campus.
Normally, Foggy isn’t a huge fan of college parties, but he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone since there’s bound to be tons of hot girls there. And as for Matt, even if he didn’t mind parties, his blindness and heightened senses prevented him from being able to enjoy them.
They are directed to one of the upstairs rooms at the frat house, and Foggy doesn’t exactly remember how or when it happened, but at some point a group of twelve people, including the two of them, end up sitting in a circle in the middle of the floor.
Most of the people in the circle are smoking pot, but Foggy opts to be semi-responsible and kindly turns down the cute girl to his left when she offers him a joint. He knows from experience that trying to find your way back to your dorm room in the middle of the night while high or drunk is anything but pleasant. He looks across the circle at Matt, and can instantly tell that Matt isn’t smoking any because he can’t stand the overwhelming smell of it.
After sitting around and chatting for a while, Derek from his Intro to Punjabi class downs the rest of his beer and then sets the empty bottle in the middle of the circle.
Foggy raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Spin the bottle, seriously? What is this, the eighth grade?” He snorts in disbelief.
“Aww, Foggy-bear, are you a blushing virgin? If you’ve never kissed anybody before, that’s okay. We can just play something else,” Marci, who has been sitting beside him and occasionally stroking up his thigh for the past twenty minutes, croons while giving him one of her famous predatory shark smiles. Jesus. If he didn’t have such a major crush on her, he’d probably be scared of her.
No, scratch that, he’s still deathly terrified of her.
“Ha ha, Marci, you’re hilarious,” he scowls. “Forget what I just said. Spin the bottle sounds totally age-appropriate and so much fun.”
Foggy glances up at Matt on the other side of the circle and instantly feels like a terrible friend. Matt’s just sitting there with his knees pulled up to his chest, expression blank. Foggy hasn’t known him for that long, but he’s studied the other man and his body language habits long enough to know that Matt clearly isn’t comfortable with any of this.
Before he can say anything, Derek announces, “Okay, Marce, you can start.”
Marci smirks in that over-confident way that Foggy is so ridiculously attracted to, no matter how much he tries not to. “Sure thing.”
She spins the bottle and it whirls around on the wooden floor until it comes to a stop in front of Cute Weed Girl. Since Foggy is pretty much sandwiched in between the two women, he essentially has to sit and watch as Marci leans right over him and starts kissing C.W.G, who’s making these cute little noises in the back of her throat, and--
Foggy has to look away, because it doesn’t seem polite to downright stare when two really attractive women are making out right in front of you.
Their mini-makeout session lasts for around twenty seconds, and then Marci pulls back and returns to her spot on the floor, giving Foggy a deeply self-satisfied expression.
“Alright, it’s your turn, Nelson,” some beefy blond jock across from him says in a bored voice. Foggy snaps out of his daze and realizes, Oh yeah, I guess it is my turn.
He grasps the bottle in his hand and spins it; It goes around and around on the floor, and it seems like it takes forever for it to finally slow down and the head of the bottle to stop right in front of--Matt?
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Foggy laughs a little too loudly. For one crazy second, he wonders if he can get away with blowing air on the bottle to get it to move to a different person. Maybe Cute Weed Girl, or even the creepy silent guy sitting diagonal from him? Literally anybody in this stupid circle would have been better than Matt. Matt’s his best friend, and he really doesn’t have any desire to make out with him in front of a bunch of people he barely knows.
“Who did it land on?” Matt asks curiously, a bit of anxiety tinged into his voice.
“Uh…about that. It actually landed on you, Matt,” Foggy mutters weakly.
“Oh.” Matt’s voice is oddly blank. His eyebrows are raised and his face is becoming more red every second.
“You up for this, buddy?” Foggy asks, and tries to will away the shakiness in his voice. Dammit. Maybe he should have taken the pot, after all. Then at least he wouldn’t seem so goddamn nervous right now.
“Um…I am if you are,” Matt jokes nervously, and bless his little heart for trying to be lighthearted, because one of them has to stay jovial through all of this.
“Okay, then. Just be warned, once you go full Nelson, you never go back.” He scoots forward on his knees so he’s kneeling in front of Matt.
The other man snorts, and he seems slightly more relaxed than before. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. Bring it on, Nelson.”
Before he loses any more of his quickly-fading courage, Foggy leans forward and kisses him lightly, resting his hands on Matt’s shoulders to steady himself.
As soon as their lips touch, most of the people in the circle burst into cheers and applause, to Foggy’s surprise. Even Marci is joining in, but she looks more smug than anything else, so that doesn’t really make him feel any better.
It isn’t long before their kiss starts heating up; Matt’s moaning quietly in the back of his throat, and then he cups Foggy’s face and licks into his mouth, gently nipping at Foggy’s lower lip as he goes. The room is suddenly becoming too warm, and Foggy allows Matt to take control of the kiss, because Matt is seriously amazing at this, literally the best kisser Foggy has ever known. He wonders dizzily how a guy who’s such a devout Catholic manages to have such a sinful mouth, because that is so not fair--
Foggy honestly doesn’t know how long it lasts; probably close to a minute, but time is passing so slowly with Matt’s mouth on his that it seems like much longer.
“Okay, you guys can stop now,” Blond Jock Guy laughs, effectively bringing them both back into reality. “That was pretty impressive, I don’t know if anyone will be able to beat that.”
Foggy pulls away, breathless, and takes in Matt’s appearance; his face is flushed, mouth red, and his mouth is hanging open slightly as he tries to catch his breath. Matt almost looks blissed out and fuck, Foggy would be lying if he said that he didn’t think that Matt looked incredibly hot right now.
Okay, so maybe Foggy isn’t as straight as he thought he was. Go figure.
The Drunken Kiss
The second time it happens, they’re in their junior year. They are camped out in their dorm room on a Saturday night, drunk off of their asses, and drinking the beers that Foggy bought from the shady guy in his Federal Courts class.
The two men are seated next to each other on Foggy’s twin bed, so close that their thighs are touching. The past thirty minutes has been spent singing off-key renditions of Shania Twain songs, but now they are so tipsy that they can no longer remember the lyrics. As a result, they are now sitting there comfortably, talking about whatever happens to pop into their heads. “So…so have you always been this much of a goddamn nerd?” Foggy slurs, nudging Matt’s shoulder playfully.
Matt snorts, and then giggles a little bit, and never in Foggy’s craziest dreams could he have ever imagined Matthew Murdock giggle-snorting. “What--what do you mean? You’re…you’re a nerd,” Matt shoots back confidently, as if he just managed to deliver the sickest burn known to man.
“You know exactly what I mean!” Foggy insists. “Have you always been so stud…studiacious?--smart. Let’s go with that. Like, no offense, but all you do with your free time is study.”
Matt huffs out a laugh. “You study too, Foggy. You kind of have to study if you want to graduate law school.”
“Yeah, but--you’re constantly doing it. Like, you always look super tense because of it. When I see you in one of your studying frenzies, my heart goes out to you. Like it kinda makes me want to give you a massage or something to get you to relax a little bit.”
Matt’s body goes rigid but he still manages to laugh. “Are you sure that you’re not just trying to seduce me? Since I’m apparently a ‘really, really good looking guy.’ ”
“Hey, you can’t hold that against me! You caught me by surprise, that’s all. I just said what anybody with functioning eyes thinks when they see you. And trust me, if I wanted to seduce you, you would have been seduced a long time ago, dude. I wouldn’t have even had to give you one of my world-renowned massages.”
Matt laughs softly. “Well, in that case…I have been stressed this entire semester. Maybe…maybe I’ll take you up on your offer sometime.”
“Or we could do it now, if you want?” Foggy asks cautiously. “I mean, I’m down for it if you are,” he adds, shrugging his shoulders.
“Oh,” Matt says quietly. Foggy has to swallow around the lump in his throat when he sees the pink flush that has spread up Matt’s neck and face. He firmly tells himself that it’s just the alcohol that’s affecting Matt, nothing more. “Yeah, sure, that’s…that sounds okay.” Matt clears his throat. “And then I can judge for myself if your massaging skills are everything you’re building them up to be.”
Foggy brings his hands to his chest and pretends to be offended. “Dude, would I lie to you? My massages are the best in New York. If the lawyer thing doesn’t work out, being a full-time masseuse is pretty much my back-up plan. Well, besides the whole butcher thing.”
Matt snorts loudly. “I’m pretty sure that--that it’s called a masseur when it’s a guy, Foggy.”
Foggy scowls. “Whatever. Just know that your snarky comments are crushing my dreams, Murdock.”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Matt murmurs slyly with a wide grin on his face, and before Foggy can process what’s happening, Matt flips himself over on the bed so he’s laying on his stomach. Then he raises himself slightly up on his forearms, and Foggy can clearly see the muscles in his arms working to keep himself raised up.
Foggy’s mouth goes dry, and--Jesus, Matt’s ass is spectacular. It could make Greek gods weep, probably.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, let’s do this thing,” Foggy mutters weakly, suddenly losing some of his nerve. “First, I’m just gonna--” he breaks off, and decides it’s better to just do it rather than try to explain.
Slowly, so he doesn’t startle Matt, he braces a hand on Matt’s lower back to steady himself, and then he swings a leg over Matt so he’s straddling his hips.
He’s careful to stay raised up a little bit so his full weight won’t sink down on Matt; that could potentially end up being an awkward situation. “What are you doing?” Matt asks, laughing nervously.
“This will work better if I’m sitting like this. Just--put your head down on the pillow and let me work my magic fingers, man.”
“Your magic--yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” Matt giggles in disbelief, but he does as he is told, lowering his upper body so it’s completely flat on the mattress.
Foggy takes a deep, calming breath, then gets down to business. First, he rubs circles into the back of Matt’s neck with his thumb; Matt apparently enjoys this, because he sighs contentedly and turns his face to the side so the pillow doesn’t smother him.
Next, Foggy kneads his knuckles into Matt’s shoulders, and wow, this poor guy’s muscles are tense. As soon as he does this, Matt audibly sighs. It’s like his entire body unwinds, and subsequently he sinks further into the mattress.
“There you go,” Foggy says, his voice low. “Become one with the bed, dude. Feel the bed, be the bed. This goes a lot better if you’re relaxed.”
“Yeah, sure,” Matt murmurs, half-dazedly, already half out of it.
Foggy chuckles and continues the massage, moving his hands from Matt’s deltoids in towards the middle of his back. Foggy is secretly enjoying this too much, the way he can pull out the soft sighs and grunts out of Matt when he works on a particularly tense spot.
“Jesus, Foggy, you’re great at this,” Matt laughs breathlessly.
Foggy clears his throat and tries to ignore that Matt’s words and the noises he’s making are going straight to his dick. He forces a laugh. “Watch your mouth, Murdock. That’s blasphemy. And thanks, I’m glad my talents don’t go unappreciated.”
Matt doesn’t reply to this, only hums to let him know that he’s listening.
Foggy slides his hands down, and as soon as he starts massaging his lower back, Matt lets out one of the most goddamn obscene moans that Foggy has ever heard, and--holy shit, Foggy’s already hard, and Matt hasn’t even laid a single hand on him.
“God, that feels so amazing,” Matt sighs happily.
Yeah, okay. This needs to end right now, before something happens that will mortify Foggy for the rest of his life. He takes his hands off of Matt and shifts so his hips are raised even further away from Matt’s body.
“Foggy?” Matt asks in a confused voice. “What are you doing?”
“Um, I think I’m going to call it a night, buddy. Sorry. I have this massive headache right now, and I can’t really concentrate, so…” he trails off, hoping Matt won’t be able to tell how obvious his lie is.
“Oh…okay. That’s fine,” he replies softly. He clearly isn’t buying it, but Foggy still appreciates that he doesn’t ask any questions.
Then all of a sudden, Matt somehow manages to flip over so he’s on his back. Before Foggy even has time to react, Matt sits up, grasps the back of Foggy’s neck, and plants a quick kiss on him. It’s drunken and kind of sloppy, and it doesn’t even count as a real kiss, so Foggy doesn’t understand why butterflies erupt in his stomach when Matt does it.
Matt pulls back and smiles lazily. “Thanks for doing that, it felt amazing. And I totally agree that this should be your back-up career choice.” Then he yawns and plops back down on the bed.
“Thanks, buddy. I’m glad you think so,” he replies weakly. Finally, he climbs off of Matt and returns to his own side of the bed.
He also lies down, but he turns his body away from Matt, because honestly, looking at Matt is doing nothing to relieve the hard-on that is still pressing against his boxers.
After a minute or two of strained silence, the mattress creaks as Matt turns on his side to face Foggy, and he tries to repress the shiver that goes through him when he feels Matt’s warm breath ghosting over his neck. “Hey, Foggy?”
He swallows thickly. “What’s up?”
“Do you think I could just stay here?” Matt asks uncertainly. “Your bed’s already warm, and I don’t feel like getting up and going to my own bed.”
Foggy smiles in spite of himself. “Fine. But don’t steal all of the blankets, Murdock. Don’t think I won’t kick you out of this bed if I have to.”
Matt chuckles. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Goodnight, Foggy.”
“Night, Matt.”
Before Matt falls completely unconscious, he slings an arm around Foggy’s waist, and Foggy is forced to lay there with his heart jackhammering in his chest all the while wondering what the hell is wrong with him.
The Mistletoe Kiss
Foggy never brings up their drunken, almost sexual encounter and neither does Matt. They’re a couple of college guys, and by default they tend to stay away from discussing feelings or awkward situations; if something uncomfortable occurs, they just sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened.
By the time Christmas break rolls around, and midterms are finally finished, Foggy has pushed the event into the back of his mind, almost like a distant memory.
Being the amazing friend that he is, he invites Matt to come home and stay with his family over break. Every time he imagines Matt moping around campus by himself for three weeks because he doesn’t have any family to go home to, his heart aches and he ends up feeling sick.
During their freshmen year, they both decided to stay on campus and make an exciting adventure out of it. Then last year, Foggy’s parents had embarked on some tropical cruise, so neither Foggy or Matt were able to stay anywhere else but school for the holidays.
This year, though, Mrs. Nelson has insisted on Foggy coming home, and Foggy would have to be a cruel and cold-hearted man to be able to deny his mother anything.
When Foggy asks Matt one chilly December afternoon if he’d like to “spend three weeks with the infamous Nelson Clan,” Matt blushes and goes very still for a moment, and Foggy becomes worried that he has offended him in some way.
Then Matt wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug. “Yeah, Foggy, I’d really like that. Thank you,” he murmurs into Foggy’s shoulder wetly, and if Foggy had to guess, he’d say that Matt is tearing up.
Foggy smiles and squeezes back. “No problem, dude. You’re my best friend, so of course I’d ask you.”
A week later, after packing their stuff into a couple of suitcases, Foggy’s dad picks them up on campus in his old beat-up Cadillac. When Mr. Nelson gets out of the car to greet them, he gives Matt a friendly pat on the back and says how great it is to meet him. He then takes Matt’s suitcase and throws it in the trunk for him.
On the car ride back to the house, Mr. Nelson tells Matt animated stories about Foggy’s childhood and extremely corny jokes that make Matt double over with laughter.
Foggy honestly feels bad for Matt a little bit when he meets his mom. As soon as they step in the door, Mrs. Nelson literally almost sprints from the kitchen to greet them. She immediately goes for Matt, encompassing him in a tight, maternal bear hug. “Oh, hello dear! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She pulls back and then inspects him, patting his cheek fondly. “And aren’t you just handsome. Franklin, why didn’t you tell me your friend was so handsome?”
Foggy gives a startled laugh, both amused at his mother’s behavior and slightly embarrassed. “Gee, Mom, nice to see you too. And people don’t just casually chat with their parents about how good-looking their roommates are. That’s just weird.”
He did call me a ‘handsome, wounded duck’ once, though,” Matt adds, laughing shyly.
“That sounds like something he would say,” she jokes dryly, wrapping her arms around Foggy and kissing both of his cheeks. “And you know I’m happy to see you, dear. I can’t wait for both of you to tell me about how school’s been this year. I want to know everything!”
She smiles at them both, clearly overjoyed at having them there. “Well, I’ll let you boys unpack and get settled in. Dinner will be ready soon, so I hope you’re hungry!” She and Mr. Nelson exit into the kitchen, bickering about something trivial, leaving Matt and Foggy alone in the foyer.
Foggy snatches both of their suitcases and makes for his room, letting Matt clutch at his elbow for guidance. “Sorry about my parents. They can be…enthusiastic, to say the least. They mean well, though.”
“It’s okay, Foggy.” Matt smiles warmly. “I really like them,” and Foggy feels his heart clench at how this is probably the first time in years that Matt has been welcomed into a family.
A few days later, it is Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Nelson has banished Foggy and Matt to Foggy’s bedroom for most of the day so she can concentrate on cooking and decorating the house. Even though they both offer their help, she insists that she can handle it by herself, and that she wants them to be able to relax during their vacation.
It isn’t until around four in the afternoon when some of Foggy’s relatives start to show up at the house that Mrs. Nelson allows them to come downstairs.
Foggy and Matt hear chatter and smell food cooking in the kitchen, so that’s where they go. Both of his parents, along with a couple of his younger cousins are gathered around, talking amiably together. When Mrs. Nelson looks up and spots them, she smiles cheerfully and says, “Dinner’s almost ready, you two. And Matthew, don’t you look precious!”
Foggy grins and glances down at the source of his mother’s comment; Matt is wearing one of Foggy’s old hideous Christmas sweaters with Rudolph and a light-up red nose attached on it.
Honestly, Foggy doesn’t know how in the world he convinced him to wear it. All he really had to do was say, “I once had to wear this monstrosity for six years in a row, now it’s your turn, pal--” before Matt had laughed and pulled it over his head without any complaints.
“Oh--thank you, Mrs. Nelson,” Matt replies a bit sheepishly. “It was Franklin’s idea, actually,” and then Foggy elbows him in the side for calling him Franklin.
Just then, Janelle, Foggy’s ten-year-old cousin squeals in delight and points to something above their heads. “Look at what they’re standing under!”
Foggy looks up and blanches when he sees mistletoe hanging above them. “Seriously, mom? You hung up mistletoe?” he asks incredulously.
“You’re the ones who decided to walk in at the same time,” Mrs. Nelson argues. “I don’t make the rules, Franklin. I’m just trying to uphold Christmas traditions!”
Foggy sighs deeply. When his mom starts talking about “the importance of traditions,” it’s game over. There’s no point in arguing about it. “Okay, whatever. Then I’m going to uphold my tradition of not kissing my male best friend in front of my family. That’s just creepy!”
“Just kiss him, Franklin! He’s such a handsome boy, doesn’t everybody agree?”
The majority of Foggy’s female cousins nod fervently, and Foggy rolls his eyes so hard that it hurts a little bit. “Mom, I’m well-aware of how much of a chick magnet Matt is. That doesn’t mean I want to make out with him.”
Janelle begins pounding her fists on the table and chanting, “Kiss, Kiss, Kiss,” eventually causing her siblings to join in, and Jesus, Foggy seriously can’t stand his family sometimes.
“You do know that you’re now at the bottom of my Favorite Cousins List, right?” he scowls at her. Janelle only grins and sticks out her tongue in response.
By this point, everybody in the kitchen is staring at both men expectantly.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me right now,” Foggy groans. He turns to face Matt, and almost has to look away when he sees the pretty pink blush that has crept over his face. “Do you want to just get this over with? I mean, do you mind? Because they’re pretty much going to harass us until we do it. They’re very stubborn like that,” he explains, pointedly glaring at his grinning family members.
“That must be where you get it from,” Matt whispers, smiling nervously. “And yeah. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with it, though?” he asks quietly. “If this makes you uncomfortable, I’ll just--”
“No, it’s fine, Foggy. Really,” he insists. “If this is what I have to do to be accepted into the ‘Nelson Clan’…” he trails off, grinning slyly.
Foggy snorts. “Dude, trust me, they’re in love with you. I’m pretty certain that they like you more than they like me.”
Then Foggy starts to lean forward, because he honestly can’t take any more of his family burning holes into them with their eyes. He does it slow enough so Matt won’t be startled, but still fast enough that he can’t give himself time to chicken out.
Right as Matt is sucking in a shaky breath, Foggy presses a light, chaste kiss against Matt’s mouth, earning them delighted cheers and laughter from everybody in the kitchen.
The kiss lasts maybe three seconds at most, but when he pulls away and takes a good look at Matt, you would have thought they had just finished a hot makeout session by Matt’s dazed expression and rosy cheeks.
Foggy turns to look at his family, and says in as normal of a voice as he can manage, “Are you depraved perverts happy now? Did that live up to your expectations?”
Janelle giggles and comments, “Not really. I’d rate that kiss four out of ten.”
“What? You guys are ridiculous,” Foggy sputters.
“Fine, I’m feeling generous. Four and-a-half!” she shouts after them as Foggy drags Matt into the living room and away from his crazy-ass family.
They sit on the couch together in silence while listening to an 80’s sitcom for the next half hour before dinner, and they absolutely do not talk about the kiss.
But it didn’t even really count as a kiss, right? Their lips barely touched, and it was all part of some stupid Christmas tradition, so Foggy can’t wrap his brain around why in the world he’s blushing this hard, or why his heart feels like it’s about to burst.
Well, at least he doesn’t have to wear the stupid Rudolph sweater this year.
The Alleyway Kiss
Several years pass, and a shit-ton of events happen during that period of time; Matt and Foggy graduate law school, they intern at Landman and Zack, soon quit Landman and Zack, create their own law firm, become close friends with Karen Page, and then most recently, Foggy finds out about Matt being Daredevil.
It’s definitely a shock, to say the least, and after Foggy initially finds out, he’s so goddamn pissed and hurt that he doesn’t speak to Matt for a while, but he’s pretty certain that he’s gotten over it. For the most part, anyways.
He doesn’t know if he will ever truly become accustomed to Matt’s double identity, but as long as Matt remains open and honest with him, he’s sure that he can manage.
It’s a month after Fisk is locked away, and Foggy is returning home on a Thursday night after dropping Karen off at her place. They had been drinking and sharing stories at Josie’s, and although he didn’t drink enough to be fully drunk, he can still feel the pleasant buzz of the alcohol thrumming throughout his body.
Foggy passes the small, run-down convenience store on his left and waves at the Mary, the friendly old clerk through the window. Despite what Karen says, Foggy knows that she has a total crush on him
He’s humming some nameless tune and scrolling through the messages on his phone when a loud voice from behind him yells, “Turn around and give me all of your money! Now!”
Heart racing in his chest, Foggy turns around and takes a look at the guy. He’s tall and scruffy and young, probably not even twenty years old. He’s kind of scrawny, but when Foggy looks closer, he sees that he’s holding a threatening-looking knife, so he isn’t about to make the mistake of underestimating this kid.
Holy shit, he’s about to get mugged. If the chances of him getting fatally stabbed weren’t so overwhelmingly high, he would have laughed. Instead, he freezes for a couple of seconds, then turns and runs away as fast as he can, because hey, who needs self-preservation skills?
It takes a couple of seconds for the other guy to begin chasing him. Foggy chalks it up to utter disbelief that this guy’s mugging victim is actually dumb enough to try running away instead of just giving up his money like any other person.
Despite Foggy’s head start, the mugger is quickly catching up, and yeah, Foggy needs to work out more often. He is so not in shape for this amount of cardio.
Just as the mugger is yanking him back by the collar of his jacket, there is a the loud sound of someone landing hard on the sidewalk, and then the man’s grip is no longer on him. Foggy continues to run until he hears the sickening crunch of bones cracking and the mugger’s screams piercing the air.
He stops running so abruptly that he almost trips over his own feet. “What the hell?” he gasps, so out of breath that it’s embarrassing, and then he turns around nervously.
Matt--well, Daredevil, is standing behind him, hovering over the unconscious mugger, and Foggy can tell just from his body language that he is pissed. He looks like angry sex on a stick, to be honest. Seriously, no matter how many times Foggy sees the “new and improved” Daredevil costume, he still can’t shake the crazy fantasy that Matt’s just stepped out of a kinky sex shop or something.
“Fog--” Matt stops himself. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?”
“No, Mr. Daredevil, he didn’t hurt me. And I didn’t need your help, you know. I could have handled him on my own,” he grumbles, embarrassed by the fact that he wasn’t able to take on a scrawny kid with a knife.
“Yeah, I’m sure you could. The way you were running away from the guy with the knife? Solid plan.” Foggy can’t really read Matt’s facial expression due to the darkness shrouding him, along with the stupid mask covering his face, but he’d bet anything that Matt is smirking right now. Asshole.
“Shut up. It was a completely logical and well-thought-out plan, and you know it. Not everybody can parkour off of a building and knock him unconscious like you can.”
Matt’s expression grows more serious. “You do know that what you did was really dangerous, right? That guy was going to stab you. You should have just given him your money, then--”
“Well, I didn’t have any money on me, dude!” Foggy hisses, not believing that his life has sunk so far that he has a masked vigilante criticizing his actions and decisions. “What did you think was going to happen when I told him I was broke, huh? Did you think he would say, ‘Oh excuse me, my mistake. Have a nice evening, sir!’? Because I don’t think that’s how it would have went down. I was about to get stabbed, I had to do something, because I obviously wasn’t expecting to be saved by the Douchebag of Hell’s Kitchen!”
Before Foggy can continue his rant, the sound of police sirens fill the air, and both men freeze.
“Did you call the police?” Matt demands, grabbing Foggy by the elbow and pulling him down the street and into a nearby alleyway.
“No, Matt, I was too busy running for my life, sorry,” Foggy snaps, and yeah, he’s being more of an asshole than is necessary, but Matt totally started it.
“Well, somebody did, and they’re going to be here any minute now,” Matt says in a dangerously low voice. His movements become more urgent as he pulls Foggy back further into the dark alley, and Foggy almost laughs at how ridiculous this whole situation is.
“You’re oddly familiar with his alleyway. Is this where you take all of your vigilante dumpster naps?” he whispers almost hysterically, because one of Foggy’s only defense mechanisms against danger is humor.
Matt clearly isn’t finding it amusing, though. “Foggy, please shut up and help me get this suit off!” As soon as he says this, Matt begins peeling his suit off as fast as he can.
“What?” Foggy demands, voice going a couple of octaves higher in disbelief.
“Just do it!” Matt growls, and that is the moment when Foggy knows without a doubt that he’s going to hell because he is actually finding Matt’s authoritative voice sexy right now.
Once Foggy’s brain stutters back to life, he frantically clutches at any zippers and belts he can find on Matt’s ridiculously tight outfit and helps Matt get the thing off.
Foggy reaches up and pulls the cowl off, which reveals Matt’s flushed face and messy, sweaty hair. And the whole sweaty, disheveled look Matt has going on really shouldn’t be a turn-on, either, considering the circumstances, but it totally is.
It takes a lot of team work and confusion on Foggy’s part, but they eventually get the suit unzipped to the point where Foggy can help Matt step out of it.
“You’re seriously not wearing anything underneath your outfit? Matt, we’re going to get arrested for public indecency!” he hisses, blushing furiously at the sight of Matt’s abs. Seriously, those things had to be photoshopped or something.
“It’ll be better than me getting arrested for being Daredevil,” Matt whispers, hastily stepping out of his suit and onto the filthy pavement.
Once Matt’s suit is completely removed, and he’s left in his boxers (God help him, Foggy must have murdered cute little kittens in a past life for him to be stuck in this situation right now) he runs over to the grimy dumpster a few feet away and flings the suit into it.
Foggy grimaces. “Dude, that’s gross. You don’t know what people have thrown in that thing. I have a feeling that this whole dumpster thing is starting to become a reoccurring theme with you, huh?”
Matt ignores his question. “Foggy, do you trust me?” he whispers frantically.
“Of course I do. Sometimes I wonder why I trust you, since you’re a reckless idiot half the time. Why are you--?”
“Then trust me right now and just---come here.” Without explaining further, Matt backs up so he is pressed against the ivy-covered building, and pulls Foggy flush against him.
“Matt, what the--?” Matt silences him by tangling his hands into his hair and kisses him like he’s absolutely starving for it.
Foggy mmphs against Matt’s mouth. He’s more surprised and pissed off than anything right at that moment. How dare he just drag him into a filthy alley, tear off all of his clothes in from of him, manhandle him, and then just start making out with him without asking first! Foggy doesn’t know why he puts up with him sometimes.
But any and all thoughts of anger and frustration rapidly fade as the reality of Matt kissing the hell out of him settles into his brain. And god, Matt has a fantastic mouth. It’s like he was made for this, sucking at Foggy’s lower lip and filling his entire body with warmth and fuzziness.
Distantly, Foggy can hear footsteps approaching and two men talking to each other in low voices--it must be the cops that Matt was so concerned about.
He soon realizes that Matt’s strategy of Foggy pressing him against the wall is actually pretty logical, because Foggy’s body is now able to successfully block most of Matt’s nudity from any potential passerby. Such as the police. He hopes that they can’t see their faces, though.
Foggy feels the illumination from the cops’ flashlights shining over them and lighting up the entire alleyway. Oh god, this is so much more embarrassing than that time Matt walked in on him masturbating in their dorm room.
He’s certain that this is the end of their careers, right here. The headline “Attorneys Nelson and Murdock Caught Getting Frisky in Alley” isn’t exactly going to make clients come running to their office.
“What the hell are they--” one officer begins asking incredulously.
Foggy starts to pull away from Matt, praying that he can assemble some type of believable explanation for the police officers, but then Matt stubbornly digs his fingers into Foggy’s hips and slips a warm thigh in between his legs.
Foggy doesn’t know if it was intentional on Matt’s part, or if he was just acting on impulse, but when Matt does this to him, Foggy lets out a completely filthy moan without being able to stop it. It literally sounds like something out of a trashy porno, not even exaggerating.
Half in retaliation, half trying to make this whole farce seem more believable, Foggy reaches around and drags his fingers along Matt’s ass. Matt’s mouth parts in a soft moan, and then he latches onto Foggy’s neck and sucks softly at the skin there.
Are they participating in some kind of messed up competitive make-out session? Maybe. But Foggy doesn’t have much time to ponder that question because Matt decides now is a great time to undo his belt buckle and stick a hand down his pants.
The officers shuffle awkwardly and look at each other. “Uh…let’s just get out of here,” the same guy whispers, clearly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, let’s go,” his partner agrees, and Foggy almost feels like crying from relief when they click off their flashlights and hastily continue their way down the sidewalk. Thankfully, they soon find the actual culprit they’re looking for, who is still passed out on the sidewalk due to Matt’s dumb ninja skills.
Foggy literally can’t believe it. They actually managed to embarrass a couple of police officers so badly that they went away. The only thought that is currently giving him any sense of comfort is, At least it wasn’t Brett who saw us.
The two men break the kiss and rest their foreheads together, gasping like they just finished running a marathon or something equally as strenuous, and when Foggy glances down, he sees that they are both ridiculously hard. Seriously, fuck his life right now.
Foggy inhales shakily and makes a point of not looking Matt in the face. “Okay, we are never discussing this. Ever. Now go and get your porn costume so we can get the hell out of here and forget this ever happened.”
The Motivational Kiss
Despite Matt’s best efforts at apologizing and sitting him down to discuss the alleyway kiss, Foggy refuses to acknowledge it ever happened.
Over the years, Foggy has become pretty efficient at repressing unwanted emotions and memories, and this instance is no exception. The last thing he wants is to “just talk about it, Foggy”; he doesn’t want to talk about how their kisses always seem to linger in his mind more than they should, and that they seem to mean more to him than to Matt. He especially doesn’t want to discuss the fact that every time he sees Matt or talks to him, his stomach does cartwheels and his heart races.
Matt eventually stops trying to bring it up, to Foggy’s great relief.
Gradually, they are able to return to the lighthearted and relaxed state that their friendship had been sorely lacking in the past few months.
A few weeks after the kiss in the alley, the two men are sitting in Matt’s apartment on a Saturday night, listening to Jeopardy and trying to guess the answers to the best of their abilities.
Alex Trebek reads, “This animal is considered to be sacred in the country of India.”
Matt taps Foggy’s knee in excitement. “Oh, I think I know this one. It’s a cow, right?”
“No way, dude, you have no idea what you’re even talking about!” Foggy argues, giggling. “You’re talking to the guy who studied Indian culture in college--”
Matt shakes his head and laughs. “You took and failed Punjabi, which means you don’t know what you’re talking about either. And Punjabi isn’t even the only Indian language, you know, so--”
Before Matt can even finish his sentence, an earth-shattering noise explodes, so loud that Matt’s entire apartment trembles from it. It sounds like it went off somewhere across town.
They both jump at the deafening sound and the vibrations that the explosion sends through them.
“Holy shit, what was that?” Foggy gasps, running to the window to look out at the city. There’s an enormously dark, debris-filled cloud swirling in the air, and Foggy feels nauseous.
“A bomb,” Matt explains, voice growing dark with rage. “And there might be more that go off. I need to go out and help.”
“What?” Foggy demands, heartrate spiking. “There is no way that you’re going outside after a bomb just exploded, Matt. How the hell are you supposed to help?”
Matt shrugs and heads over to the chest where he keeps his Daredevil suit. “I can help people get to a safer location. Pull people from the wreckage.”
Foggy’s mouth drops in shock. “Matt, I know you have this major hero complex or whatever, but it isn’t your job to run into really horrible situations headfirst. This isn’t one of your typical “beat up some bad guys” situation. There could be another bomb--multiple bombs about to go off, and you could very easily get caught in one if you go outside. And I’m sorry, but even Daredevil can’t fight a bomb.”
Matt runs a tired hand down his face and sighs. “I’ll be fine, Foggy. I know what I’m doing.”
Foggy honestly wants to scream at how goddamn reckless and self-sacrificing Matt is being right now.
“Please don’t go out, Matt. I’m begging you here.” Foggy feels absolutely needy and desperate asking this of Matt right now, but honestly, he’d be willing to do or say anything at this point to keep Matt safe in his apartment with him.
“You know I have to, Fog,” Matt argues stubbornly, and Foggy groans in frustration.
While Matt’s shucking off his t-shirt and sweatpants and yanking on the suit as fast as he can, Foggy texts Karen to make sure she’s safe in her own apartment.
Once he’s hit the send button, he tries reasoning with Matt again. “Just try to think through this for once! If you’re killed in another bomb explosion, then you’ll never be able to fight crime and save people ever again, you do realize that, right?”
“I’m not afraid of dying, Foggy,” Matt says quietly, like it’s a confession, and Foggy’s heart breaks into a million little pieces at Matt’s complete lack of self-worth. “If I can save somebody in the process, then it’s worth it.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe I would care if you died? That Karen would care? I don’t know why you constantly go through life thinking that nobody cares about you or loves you, but it’s seriously--”
Foggy doesn’t finish his sentence because at that moment his phone buzzes. He looks down and reads at Karen’s message: Yeah I’m ok, are u? have u called Matt 2 see if he’s ok? Foggy sighs in relief.
Foggy types back: Matt’s ok. he’s with me right now.
He doesn’t mention the fact that Matt is currently suiting up to head out straight into the aftermath of a bomb explosion.
“Karen’s safe,” Foggy informs him in a shaky voice.
Matt audibly exhales and nods his head. “That’s good. And I want you to stay put so you can be safe as well. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I just…I have to do something, Foggy. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just stood by when I could have been helping somebody.”
Foggy swallows thickly and his stomach lurches as he realizes that there is absolutely nothing he can say that will change Matt’s mind and make him stay in the apartment.
Everything is starting to happen too quickly, and then Matt’s zipping up his costume and heading over to the open window, and Foggy has to do something to make Matt understand--
Before he loses his nerve, and before Matt can jump out the window like a maniac, he closes the space between the two of them, grasps Matt’s face between his hands, and gently pulls him in for a kiss.
Unlike any of their other previous kisses, this one is soft and sad, like a ‘goodbye’ and a ‘good luck’ all in one. Matt gasps softly against his mouth and he leans into Foggy’s touch, eyelids fluttering shut. He reaches a hand up and rests it on Foggy’s neck, gently rubbing his thumb over his pulse.
They both hear the sirens of police officers and EMT vehicles in the distance, and Foggy’s eyes close as well.
“Please promise me you’ll be safe, Matty. Promise me you’ll come back,” Foggy whispers against Matt’s lips. He knows realistically that Matt can’t promise him something like that, but he wants to hear it right now. He needs to hear it, or else he’s afraid that he’ll lose his mind.
When Foggy pulls away, the slightly embarrassing reality of what he just did finally sinking in, he can just barely make out Matt trembling ever so slightly in the moonlight that’s streaming through the window.
“I promise, Foggy.”
+1: The ‘Other’ Kiss
When they kiss this time, there are no excuses, no extenuating circumstances that force them to lock lips with one another.
There’s no dumb college games, no alcohol coursing through their veins, not even a couple of embarrassed police officers to scare away.
This time, everything is set into motion after Matt returns from dealing with the bombing across town. Foggy thanks any deity that will listen that there weren’t any other bombings following the initial one.
He climbs in through the window at exactly 1:03 a.m., and of course Foggy is still awake, waiting for him. Not that Foggy would ever admit it, but he spent the majority of Matt’s absence pacing around the apartment, keeping a close eye on all of the local news channels, and checking his cell phone every couple of minutes to make sure Matt hadn’t called or texted.
Now, he is sitting behind Matt on the couch, tending to his dumb vigilante friend’s wounds to the best of his ability. Thankfully, the injuries are minimal, some minor cuts and bruises. It’s a good thing that Matt didn’t end up needing stitches, because they definitely would have needed Claire there if that were the case.
He pours some antiseptic onto a cotton ball and lightly dabs it along the nasty-looking abrasion along Matt’s shoulder. Despite the inevitable burn, Matt doesn’t make any noise or complain, which in itself makes Foggy depressed because it insinuates that Matt is conditioned to pain on a regular basis.
After a few minutes of awkward silence where Foggy is positive that Matt is actively listening to the sound of his heartbeat, Matt clears his throat. “So…I think that we should talk about you kissing me a few hours ago,” Matt comments in a mild tone.
“Yeah, let’s not and say we did,” Foggy mutters, heat rising over his face. “I would really, really like to not talk about this.”
Matt turns his body slightly so Foggy can clearly see the smile spreading across his face. “Well, what if I would like to talk about it? I could have died out there, you know, so I think I should get special privileges,” he jokes.
“So not funny, dude,” Foggy huffs, but he can’t fully stop the smile that’s coming over his face.
Matt takes that moment to swivel his body so he is completely facing Foggy, occasionally grunting in pain when his movements antagonize his injuries.
“Well, if I can’t talk to you about this…do you think I could just kiss you instead?”
Foggy’s mouth goes completely dry, and he can safely say that his mind has to reboot itself when Matt leans in closer to him and whispers, “Do you think that would be a fair trade?”
Foggy flounders for a second before dazedly responding, “Y-yeah, that sounds fair, Matty.”
“Good.” Matt takes his time with reaching up and touching Foggy’s face, running his fingers delicately over his eyelids, cheekbones, and mouth, anything that makes Foggy shiver. Finally, Matt cups Foggy’s jaw in both of his hands and presses their lips together, earning a soft sigh from Foggy.
Foggy can’t believe this is actually his life right now, but before he can ponder exactly what amazing deeds he must have done in a past life to deserve this, then Matt starts becoming desperate, fisting his hands in Foggy’s shirt and licking into his mouth, all the while moaning softly. Foggy can feel those vibrations going through him, which does nothing to stop the heat that is currently pooling in the bottom of his stomach.
He gets so lost in all of it that he loses track of time. It’s hard to concentrate on something as irrelevant as time when all he can pay attention to is Matt’s lips gliding against his, and the sensation of Matt’s erratic pulse underneath his fingertips.
After what seems like hours, Foggy breaks the kiss for some much-needed air. “Oh my god, you actually kissed me,” he gasps incredulously.
“You kissed me first,” Matt shoots back, laughing brightly and looking happier than Foggy’s seen him in…way too long.
“Whatever. That’s totally irrelevant,” he mutters, his face heating up for what seems like the hundredth time that night.
Matt grins lazily at him, making him shiver as he drags his thumb down Foggy’s arm. “You really like me, don’t you?” he asks in a teasing tone.
Foggy snorts gently, blushing even harder. “Of course I do. Don’t look so smug, you act like you just uncovered some great mystery or something. And you don’t have much room to talk, buddy. You seem to forget that you just had your tongue shoved down my throat a few seconds ago, so I’m going to take a wild guess and say you like me too.”
“Yeah, I do. A lot,” Matt says softly, and Foggy’s heart stutters at how earnest and genuine he sounds. “I love you, Fog.”
A bit desperately, Foggy leans in and kisses Matt again, hard and meaningful. “I love you too, you nerd. But I kind of just realized how ridiculous it is that we could have been doing this like six years ago, if we both would have known. I can’t believe how much time we’ve wasted.”
Matt abruptly stands up off of the couch and starts pulling Foggy with him to his bedroom, a mischievous smile in place. “Well, we’re just going to have to make up for lost time, aren’t we?”
Needless to say, they spend the remainder of the night “making up for lost time.” And Foggy could not have been any happier.