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Foggy’s not sure how they ended up here. He was rubbing Icy Hot on Matt’s shoulders, Matt turned to thank him, and the soft lips so close to his face were just so tempting Foggy had to have a taste. It occurs to him that he probably should have asked, but with the way Matt’s eyes went half-lidded and his lips parted with hushed breath, Foggy decided to read the signs that were given to him and go for it. They kiss, Foggy’s own plush lips against Matt’s slightly chapped ones. It’s soft and sweet, and they part with a small noise.
“So…” Matt begins with an unconscious lick of his lips, Foggy captivated with the little motion.
“Yeah,” he agrees. He may not know exactly what Matt may mean but he thinks he gets it. “That happened.” He examines Matt's face, trying to discern his innermost feelings as if they would be so readily available with a quick glance. “That's a good thing right? “
Matt swallows so hard that even Foggy could hear it. “Yeah. “
“Oh good. Cause I've been, you know, wanting to do that for a while now.“
“Oh? And how long is a while? “
“Maybe since I met you.”
A look of wonder graces itself on his face, and Foggy relishes the moment because it's not everyday you can make Matt Murdock gobsmacked.
Matt seems to deliberate in his head, and, after a split second of thought, he goes back to continue the kiss.
Warmth rushes through Foggy. He can’t remember ever being this happy. Soft lips part to puff air as Matt sighs into his mouth, and Foggy imagines he could actually taste his contentedness.
After a few hours, blissful making out turned into subsequent breaking for air then turned into sleepy cuddling. Through the silence, Matt asks, “Is it okay if we keep this-” He gestures lazily to the both of them. “-between us for the time being?”
“You mean keep it a secret from our friends, family, and the world?” Like a secret to be ashamed of? Foggy doesn’t say aloud.
Matt bites his lip. “Would you mind?”
A small part of him wants to protest, but Matt winces as he asks the question like Foggy wouldn’t automatically be on board with whatever he might want in the relationship. Yeah, he minds a little bit, but this is so they have time to get acclimated to one another as boyfriends without the rest of the world horning in on their time, right? It’s not like they’re going to keep it a secret forever.
Right?
“Sure, buddy.” He pulls Matt closer by the waist, their stomachs flush against each other. “Anything you want.”
Matt blushes prettily at that, and Foggy decides that was a good response after all. He moves in for a kiss when Matt adds, “And Karen too.” Foggy’s stomach swoops down. “Just because I want to keep you for myself for a while.” And his stomach is back where it should be, though there’s still that little inkling of doubt left behind.
“I want you to myself all the time.” He goes for slightly flirtatious but may have come off too serious. Matt glows at the remark regardless.
-
Foggy lets his gaze rove to the trim figure Matt cuts in the new Daredevil suit. Appreciative of the view, Foggy goes up to him before he jumps into the dark to become one with the night.
“For good luck!” he says cheerfully. Matt turns red under his mask and gives a jaunty salute before flipping out of the balcony.
Foggy wants to text him “10/10, for excellent vaulting”, but refrains. He’s too much already.
They lead a routine from here. He kisses Matt good luck before he leaves, and lingers until he falls asleep. Sometimes he wakes when Matt’s sneaking back under the covers, his hands reaching out to hold Matt’s body, half caressing with love and half checking for new injuries. Foggy yawns for a third time, mouth covering his mouth because he still has manners. He slowly turns around on the bed, cuddling up to Matt, and mumbling, “Can I sleep here?” all the while falling asleep. Matt doesn’t answer, and instead holds him closer. Foggy drifts away in the arms of Morpheus, not realizing that Matt never invited him to stay.
-
Karen goes out for lunch and they enjoy a rare moment to themselves at the office. Foggy stands behind Matt to rub at his shoulders. He moans with appreciation, his body melting into relaxation.
“Hey, buddy. You busy tonight? I think it was high time we do something nice, like go to dinner at this fancy Italian place.”
“Would this ‘fancy’ place be that hole in the wall we found during our internship?”
“Hey, it’s fancy! They put that sprig leaf on top.”
Matt laughs and Foggy thinks that this whole Operation: Court Murdock would finally be well underway when Matt’s face falls. “Oh no. I can’t. I’m busy tonight.”
“What’s up?”
“There’s a new gang around. I think the leader’s setting up a meeting tonight.”
Foggy tries to hide the sudden swoop of his stomach with an understanding squeeze on his shoulders. “It’s cool. I get it. Next time, right?”
There is no next time.
This is just the way things go when they go well, which is to say, quickly and temporarily.
-
For the most part, their relationship is a source of much happiness and Foggy wants to yell it to the whole world because he was never the type to keep good news to himself. His lips twitch whenever he sees Karen, mouth ready to spew a list of every heart-thumping thing that has happened to him and Matt these past few weeks starting with the one where they first got together. Then it hits him.
They never had that talk did they? All this time it was Foggy leading them on this path with Matt smiling and nodding just like in college when Foggy would come up with a fun, crazy scheme and Matt would go along indulgently. Is that what this was? Foggy wouldn’t put it past him.
It makes sense the more Foggy rationalizes it in his head. Matt would be the type of person to go along with something if he knew it would hurt the person he loves if he did otherwise.
It hurts his heart to think, but it’s the only explanation. Matt never invited him to stay. Never initiated their hugs or kisses. He never even confessed his love.
It was all Foggy. All in his head. This fantasy romance is just Foggy pushing his own selfish will onto someone else, onto his own best friend. How self-centered is he? How deluded is he to think that they could be anything more than friends?
Confronting Matt was out. He would most likely insist that Foggy’s feelings were requited, but it wouldn’t help the situation. Foggy has to be subtle about this. Ease off slowly. Back off so completely that he’ll just revert back to being the good old, funny, fat friend and Matt won’t even notice. (Or if he does he can be relieved that Foggy respected him enough to step off.) Yeah, that’s a good idea, Foggy thinks.
It’ll hurt but it’ll be the right thing to do. Matt’s all about that kind of thing, right?
-
It’s the first time in a long time that Foggy doesn’t go to Matt’s apartment and wish him luck on his crime-fighting. The carton of lo mein sits lonesome on his coffee table, the steam curling out of it like lazy arms stretching out to Foggy, but he pays no attention to it. He hasn’t paid any attention to anything for the past couple hours. He sits in an imitation of dinner time, a usually happy time of day, but his mind wanders and his eyes remain glued to the wall across from him.
He thought it would feel... drawn out maybe? That the lack of conclusion from Matt’s end would make him feel like there’s still hope, there’s still a lifeline to draw closer, there are still bridges to mend. Nothing. He gets nothing from Matt’s end, and he feels nothing.
A small part of him still fantasizes about Matt bursting through the door, mask askew and hair disheveled, to urge him to come back. Come home please, I need you. But there is no Matt and there is nothing.
He packs up the untouched food and places it in the fridge. He’ll get to it eventually.
-
Karen Page didn’t get to where she is now by being oblivious and unobservant. She knows something is up, and she has the distinct feeling it was all Matt’s fault. The two lawyers act like nothing is amiss. It’s almost as if it were business as usual, but her keen eye catches the slight downward pull on the edge of Foggy’s smile whenever he glances at Matt.
Matt is… himself, which is not usually a cause for concern except that he doesn’t seem to notice Foggy’s melancholy disposition. Matt always seems to know when something is bothering Foggy so his own ignorance of it signals warnings in Karen’s head that Matt may be the cause of it all.
But she can’t say a thing because it’s not her place and her boys are excellent avoiders.
She sighs, smiling up at Foggy when he hears her and shaking her head that ‘no, it’s nothing. I’m fine.’ He shoots her a disbelieving look and she wants to shoot it right back at him.
‘I know something’s up,’ she wants to say. But she stays quiet. For now.
-
Time passes. Foggy can’t remember the last time they kissed. On the lips that is. Or even flirt. Or hug. They don’t do any of those small mannerisms couples are supposed to do. (Because you’re not a couple, the voice says.) They definitely don’t at the office, if only because it’s unprofessional and they haven’t revealed it to Karen yet. (And because he wants to keep her as an option, the unhelpful voice pops up again. Foggy shuts it up by knocking it back like the shot of whiskey he drinks at the bar.)
Was Matt avoiding him? It wouldn’t be very hard. Foggy is the one doing the avoiding. It would be only too easy for the naturally aloof Matt Murdock.
-
They don’t kiss for weeks, not until Matt suddenly decides he wants to bestow a quick peck on Foggy’s admittedly neglected pair of lips. He’s so surprised, so unused to this sign of affection, that his body freezes up without response. It only lasts for a split second and Foggy hopes that Matt doesn’t notice his momentary lack of guard.
“You startled me, that’s all,” Foggy says with a laugh. He aims for genuine sheepishness but ends up only elaborating on his nervousness. “I usually kiss you first.”
Matt seems to accept it though, and his face smooths into relief. “Thought I’d initiate this time around.”
“Not gonna complain about that.” Though Foggy very much wants to complain. How dare Matt try this now when he was already set on letting him go? This is all very inconvenient and confusing. He thought would Matt jump at the chance to stop playing make believe with Foggy.
He just has to try a little harder.
-
He stops staying over at Matt’s apartment. Good thing he never brought over much. Just a few changes of clothing, his toothbrush, his shampoo, his body wash, his cereal and oh. He didn’t realize how far he’d already encroached on Matt’s space, subconsciously eager to join their lives together.
Oh. Well.
They were only spares. Nothing he’d miss.
Foggy rubs a fist against his chest. The loneliness is back, and this time it brings a real, physical pain in his chest. It hurts like any other injury, but this is one he knows a doctor can’t fix. It aches some more. He rubs harder.
-
Oddly enough, it’s Matt who starts the little moments at the office. When Karen turns to go to the kitchen, Matt reaches out to hook his pinky into Foggy’s. It’s so innocent, so pure, not even near the league of a kiss, but it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Foggy flinches away, unhooking his finger from Matt’s, standing up, and packing his things.
“Hey, Karen,” he calls out through the open door, “I’m leaving early to take care of some stuff down at the police station.”
“Okay!” comes her reply.
“Stuff at the police station?” Matt asks, brows furrowed and eyes twitched as if racking his brain for some detail he forgot, “Should I come wi-”
“No! Nope, it’s cool. I got it.” Foggy shuts his briefcase, doesn’t even know what papers he grabbed and stuffed inside. “I’ll, uh, call you.”
He wants to kiss him goodbye. Have that last caricature of domestic partnership, what he imagined it would be like to be Matt’s partner professionally and romantically. But he doesn’t. It’s for the best.
-
The first time Foggy entered his own apartment after splitting away from Matt after law school, he felt this disassociation, this feeling that he entered a stranger’s apartment and his own was somewhere not here. He’s getting the same feeling now standing at the threshold of his door.
He knows every nook and cranny of this place. He knows what hides in every drawer and cabinet. He knows the exact positioning of his furniture and appliances. But standing here, with the knowledge that there is now a big, gaping void in his life, he doesn’t know his home at all. There is no home. Home is Matt and now it’s all gone. He steps forward.
He will make this a home again. He need only try.
-
It feels weird to eat dinner together like this. Foggy can’t recall a time they sat down, the two of them, and shared a meal without Matt abruptly leaving for whatever reason. Matt talks about his day, and he listens with only half his attention.
Matt recounts, with a smug grin, how the lady at the shop flirted with him. He talks of her light, floral scent and the swish of her expensive clothing. Maybe Foggy should have told Matt his plans of drifting them apart out of a relationship because he absentmindedly comments that maybe Matt missed an opportunity to score a date.
“What?”
The dangerous tone catches his attention, and Foggy looks up from his chicken tikka. “What?”
“What did you mean by that?”
“What did I mean by what?”
“That. What you just said, ‘you should have just asked her out on the spot.’ What was that supposed to mean?”
Foggy is genuinely confused. Matt is being unreasonably angry right now, and Foggy’s too tired to deal with this. “What do you mean what do I mean? It means you missed a chance to score a hot date, buddy. I didn’t mean anything else by it.”
“Now why in the world would I do that when I have you? You’re my boyfriend!”
“What? Oh.” Oh is right.
Matt shoots up from his seat and stalks towards him. Foggy fights the urge to pull a Daredevil himself and jump out the window. His heart is pounding a million beats a minute and it probably sounds like war drums to Matt. He braces himself for another fight, a fight he knows he won’t win, cannot win because there will be no winning no matter where this inevitable conversation will take them.
Then Matt does something entirely unexpected. He brings his hands up to rub at Foggy’s shoulders, his expression smoothing out into one of concern, and he asks in a gentle voice, “What’s wrong, Foggy? You’ve been so strange lately.”
How uncharacteristic of him to even ask! It’s usually Foggy who asks. Foggy who cares about what Matt is thinking, how Matt is feeling, because he cares and he loves him. Foggy doesn’t mind that Matt doesn’t reciprocate, truly he doesn’t. There’s already so much happening in his life, most of them dealing with his other costumed self, the justice that needs to be dealt in Hell’s Kitchen. Foggy has no business adding to that burden, but still he fantasizes. He fantasizes so much. Wouldn’t it be nice that for once Matt would ask him how he’s doing? And now it’s happened. Matt finally asks and Foggy cannot deal with it.
“This is…” Foggy rubs his fists into his eyes till he sees stars, and maybe the darkness will stop the oncoming tears. “..this is gonna sound so stupid.” His voice cracks and with it so does Matt’s heart.
Matt instantly sits down next to him, an arm coming around to rub at Foggy’s back. “No, please, if there’s something bothering you, it can’t be stupid. You can tell me. Please tell me.”
“Like how you told me about your vigilantism and your science fiction powers? No, I was gonna wait till I was bleeding on the floor of my apartment. Maybe not even then, who knows!” It’s a low blow, especially since they moved past that particular drama already.
Matt stiffens.
Foggy’s anger rushes out of him only to be replaced with sadness. The tears can’t be stopped this time around. “No, it’s fine. That’s over. It’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t-- That wasn’t right for me to say. That was mean.”
Matt reaches out to Foggy’s elbow, hand trailing down until he grabs at his wrist, the thumb and middle finger almost touching. “Please tell me.” It’s an amazing leap, an improvement of character, that Matt continues to question him, when Foggy is so sure that Matt would get stuck on what he said and drive himself on the inevitable shame spiral that comes with discussing That Night.
“You don’t have to pretend, Matt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t have to go along with whatever I want. I told you that I love you, and I do. I really do. But if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I’m still sticking around. You don’t have to play along, all right? We’re good. Or we will be anyway.”
Instead of looking relieved like Foggy predicted, Matt seemed pensive. “Why do you say that?”
“What?”
“Why do you say that I don’t feel the same?”
“Uh, because all this time I was the one who did everything, who started everything. I was the one who pushed us to be together, and you only went along with it to keep me as your friend. So this is me, here, right now, telling you that you don’t need to date me to keep me. I will always be your friend, okay?”
Understanding shines on Matt’s face. He goes to his knees in front of Foggy, hands clasped around his like a prayer. “I’m so-I’m so sorry.”
“What, Matt-”
He shakes his head and Foggy quiets down. Matt licks at his dry lips, preparing himself for the speech he knew he should have given long ago.
“I thought it was a dream. No, that’s not right. I thought it was something I couldn’t have. I thought to give you space. Let you pick the pace because God knows that I want anything, everything you could give me, if only I would just be a little more patient.
“So I let you come to me. Let you kiss me, hold me, stay in my house, let you start it all because if I didn’t ask it means I deserved it, right? That it wasn’t something you did just to make me happy. Something you did to set us to rights. But I should’ve seen- should’ve have opened my eyes-” Foggy snorts. “-to the fact that you felt the same. Not only in love but also...insecure?
“I don’t know why you would ever think that, but I’m going to fix it okay. I’m going to make this right. Is that...is that okay?”
Foggy finally lets out the sob he’s been holding and grabs Matt. He tucks his face in the crook of his neck and lets his whimpers soak in Matt’s crisp collar. More salt permeates the air, and now Matt’s crying too. They hold each other like a lifeline. How could they have been so stupid?
It takes a while for Foggy to realize what Matt’s been repeatedly muttering into his hair. “I love you, please don’t leave. I’ll fix it. Please don’t leave. I love you. I’ll fix it.” Foggy only clutches him tighter.
-
They find themselves on the bed, holding on like they’d otherwise be lost to the sea of their emotions. They’re too tired to do anything more than mumble endearments and apologies in each other’s mouths, and they fall asleep holding hands, facing each other and sharing the same breath.
-
Foggy wakes clamped in a vice grip of a pair of pretty impressive arms. He can feel Matt’s little breaths hitting his forehead. He stretches a bit, and Matt holds him even closer, still asleep. He can’t remember ever feeling so adored. Foggy cuddles closer to him, and basks in the glory of it.