Work Text:
1
Matt is sitting at his desk, fingers flying across the textbook he’s studying when he hears the hurried, excited footsteps of his roommate on the stairs. He’s already smiling when Foggy opens the door.
“Dude,” Foggy says, breathing heavily like he ran all the way to their dorm. “Tell me you don’t have any plans tonight.”
“Oh yeah, I’m throwing a big party in here, everyone’s invited,” Matt says dryly.
“The look on my face is the perfect blend of ‘unimpressed’ and ‘unamused’,” Foggy informs him, tossing his backpack onto his bed. “Seriously though, nothing going on?”
“Other than studying? Not really,” Matt admits, knocking on his thick textbook.
“Normally I would say that is sad,” Foggy says. “But right now, that is a relief, because I just scored us a date.” He takes a seat at his desk, turning the chair to face Matt, and Matt turns his desk chair around to face Foggy. For once, he’s not opposed to the idea of skipping out on a night of studying. He’s not sure if Foggy’s excitement is just that contagious, or if he really needs a break.
Probably a bit of both.
“A date, huh? Are we going to take turns at the dinner table with the lucky lady?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“A double date, asshole. You know that hot girl in my Punjabi class?”
Matt’s jaw drops. “You did not…”
“I did,” Foggy says, and Matt can tell that he is beaming. “We were lingering after class, talking about the new Hobbit movie, and she was bummed because she hasn’t had a chance to see it yet and she and her roommate are big nerds, her words not mine, and I said well my roommate and I are also big nerds, so maybe we could go on a double date to see it together, and she said yes!”
“You think I’m a nerd?” Matt asks, mock offended.
“Of course not. I know you’re a nerd, didn’t even need to hear you quote Revenge of the Sith in mock trial to know that. I didn’t know she was much of a nerd, other than the whole obvious law school thing, so now I know I can impress her with my unlimited wealth of what you called pointless trivia. This changes everything!”
Matt smirks. “Just to be clear, this is the same Hobbit movie that you have already seen twice, right? They haven’t released a new one in the last two weeks?”
“It’s that good. And she is that hot, I wouldn’t miss this opportunity even if it were a movie I had seen a thousand times already.”
“But you need me to come,” Matt says.
“Well, her roommate already said yes, and I know you’re too noble to make a beautiful woman third wheel me and my literal dream girl, Matthew Michael Murdock,” Foggy says seriously, and Matt snorts.
“And don’t give me that bullshit about not being a fan of movies, we both know you only told Amanda that to avoid a second date, Mr. Commitment Issues. You love going to movies with me, don’t deny it,” Foggy says, reaching his foot out to nudge Matt’s calf.
“I was already going to say yes,” Matt says. “But if you’re this desperate, I want to find out what bribery techniques you will resort to.”
Foggy sighs. “I’ll buy us popcorn.”
“Sold,” Matt says immediately, reaching for a bookmark and closing his textbook with a thud.
“Yes!” Foggy says, jumping up and going to Matt’s closet. “I owe you one. Okay, I was thinking you could wear that green sweater, it brings out your eyes but even if you want to keep the glasses on I think it looks good on you…”
Matt doesn’t protest when Foggy tosses him the sweater in question as he continues to ramble, and he then proceeds to add unhelpful commentary as Foggy spends time debating what to wear. It’s amusing, considering Foggy rolls out of bed with only five minutes to get ready most days, and it’s honestly endearing. After the third or fourth time of Foggy looking in the mirror and asking himself, “How about this?” and Matt answering “Looks horrible to me” and earning a hanger thrown in his direction, Foggy settles on his decision.
When they get to the theater that evening, Punjabi Class Girl - Melanie, Matt finally learns - introduces her roommate to Matt. Her name is Sophie and her perfume is a little strong but she giggles when Matt asks her to guide him if only for an excuse to hold her arm and step a little closer, so Matt figures this double date thing is a success so far.
Foggy sits on Matt’s other side in the theater, leaning in to ask a quiet, “You good? I know crowds are…” and Matt can tell he’s gesticulating vaguely.
The crowd is a lot. It’s a movie theater in New York City, for one thing, so it’s not the most pleasant smelling place in the world, even with the thick scent of popcorn. The auditorium is mostly full and there are a lot of conversations going on while they wait for the previews to start, but Matt just takes a deep breath and listens for Foggy’s heartbeat. It’s been going faster than normal all night, which makes Matt smile, happy that this worked out for him. He focuses on that, letting it drown out the other senses in the theater threatening to overwhelm him, and he nods.
“I’m great,” he says honestly, holding his fist out. Foggy bumps it then turns back to Melanie, but Matt keeps listening to his heartbeat even as he turns to Sophie and starts a conversation.
The movie itself is finally about to start when, as the last preview ends, Foggy leans in and asks, “Wait, you’ve seen– well, listened to– the Lord of the Rings movies, right?”
“No,” Matt admits. “But this is like, before those, right?”
Foggy sputters. “Dude! First of all, yes, but there are still some things I should have told you, second of all, I have failed you as a best friend.”
Matt turns his head to grin at him. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need to understand it perfectly.”
“But you do, this story is–”
“Foggy, we have dates, you don’t need to take your attention from her to worry about me. Besides, I’m sure you’re going to want to discuss it for two hours when we get home anyway,” Matt says.
“Okay,” Foggy agrees, whispering even quieter when someone in front of them turns around to shush them. “If there are any details I really think you should know, I’ll tell you, but I’ll keep it limited,” Foggy says, and Matt just nods. He’s been to movies with Foggy, Foggy is great at an informative yet entertaining running commentary that is far superior to any audio description track Matt has had while watching movies before. It’s not the end of the world that he is missing that experience, especially since Foggy has the girl he has been pining after for a year on the other side of him. Besides, maybe he can lean close to Sophie, ask her for details, inch even closer when she has to whisper, put his arm on her knee to steady himself…
An hour later, Matt is letting Foggy lead him out of the theater, barely containing his laughter until they are out the doors and out of earshot from the annoyed employee that came to kick them out.
“What happened,” Matt says between laughing, “to keeping it limited to the important details?”
“Excuse you, everything I said was important!” Foggy says defensively. He’s clutching the half-full popcorn bucket that they managed to escape with and throws a handful at Matt’s face. “You needed to know when Bilbo was looking pensive to the point of constipation, and the details of the elaborate choreography while the dwarves put his dishes away, and the fact that it is fucked up we are worrying about becoming lawyers when I, my friend, was destined for the lifestyle of a hobbit!”
Matt leans against the building to catch his breath. “I can’t believe you just got us kicked out.”
Foggy scoffs. “My voice was at a decent volume. Not my fault you can’t keep your laughter quiet,” he says, but he sounds far too pleased with himself.
“I am warning you now to not get a big head over this. You being semidecent at movie commentary does not mean you are as charming and funny as you think you are,” Matt says, pointing a finger at him, his smile betraying the attempted notes of seriousness in his voice.
“Bullshit, I am plenty charming and funny,” Foggy laughs.
“Well, I hope those qualities are enough to win Melanie back,” Matt says, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Did they look mad?”
“A bit, yeah,” Foggy admits, but he’s still laughing. “I told her I would call her and she didn’t tell me to fuck off, though, so there’s still hope.”
“Well, you’ll have to give my best to Sophie,” Matt says. “Hopefully I didn’t ruin her night.”
“And hopefully I didn’t ruin yours,” Foggy says. “Sorry that I am so devastatingly funny that I got us kicked out of the movies.”
Matt scoffs, pushing himself off from the building and reaching his hand out. Foggy wordlessly steps closer so Matt can grab his elbow. “Don’t be sorry. I used to hate movies, you know?”
“Used to? Have I won you back over?” Foggy asks.
“Yeah, actually,” Matt says. “If people think I’m missing out because I can’t see the screen, they have no idea how much they are missing out from having Franklin Nelson act as their personal audio description.”
Foggy gasps. “So you do admit I’m charming and hilarious!”
“Objection, I said no such thing,” Matt says.
“You’re the one still giggling on the streets of New York like this is a rom com where we just ran out of the M&M store after taking too many samples,” Foggy says, throwing more popcorn at him.
“The M&M store doesn’t do samples,” Matt argues, just to be pedantic.
“Exactly, why do you think we’re running?” Foggy says.
Matt shakes his head, a wide smile still stuck on his face. “Okay, fine, you are hilarious. But also, I just like listening to your voice.” Foggy doesn’t respond and for a second Matt panics, realizing that was probably a weird thing to say. “And it’s nicer when it’s not complaining about our assigned readings.”
Foggy nudges Matt’s shoulder with his own. “You sap. Okay, so I’m thinking with Lord of the Rings, we can have a marathon at my parents’ place sometime and we– or, wait, maybe you should start with the books, we can find an audiobook and you can see if you like it…”
2
Matt has lived with Foggy for over three years now. From strangers, to roommates, to best friends, to interning together at the same law firm, he’s been around him enough to know his tells.
Singing is one of his tells.
It’s the reason they got asked to leave the library on more than one occasion. Matt would be sitting with him, listening to Foggy quietly hum, and it would progress until he was singing loud enough in the silence that people were clearing their throat loudly and asking the librarians to get them to leave. It was absolutely hilarious, which is why Matt didn’t stop him then. Listening to the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat now, though, Matt is more worried than amused.
“Foggy,” he says, then again, louder. “Foggy.”
He can feel the air shift suddenly as Foggy jumps. “Sorry. Was I humming too loudly again?”
“Singing,” Matt corrects. “And it wasn’t too loud, it’s just obvious that you’re nervous.”
Foggy doesn’t deny it, letting out a long exhale as he sits back in his creaky chair. The shitty fluorescent light above them hums and outside their broom closet of an office Matt can hear all sorts of high heels on hard floors, tense arguments, and weary phone calls.
He wishes Foggy would go back to singing.
But Matt can’t focus. Not because of the noise, but because he knows Foggy is going to go sick with worry.
“It’s nothing,” Foggy says. “There are really only two options, right? Either we get the job offer, we begin our careers at a prestigious law firm, can afford rent, and just coast along, doing what we have been working our asses off to do. Or, the other option is we don’t get the job offer, we enter the beast known as the job market, and we are left to fend for ourselves by applying for other firms or making our drunk selves proud and actually pursuing our own practice. You’ve been hoarding an extra bagel every morning, right? Because I’ve been stocking up my freezer for weeks in case option two pans out.”
“Foggy,” Matt says, trying not to show just how fond he feels. “It’s going to be fine either way.”
“How are you so calm about this?” Foggy asks. “You’re the one who missed out on most of the parties I tried to drag you to because you were worried about getting perfect grades, and now that we are in the trenches, you’re acting like it’s no big deal. This is Landman and freaking Zack, man, it’s a pretty big deal. The biggest.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Matt repeats. “You know how I know?”
Foggy sighs. “Please enlighten me. And don’t say because you’re hoarding bagels, because I don’t actually want to survive on those for the foreseeable future.”
“It’s not the bagels. It’s going to be fine because in the possible scenarios you mentioned, we’re sticking together, right? Either we get the job offer, great, or we don’t, and we figure it out together. Nelson and Murdock.”
Foggy lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. It does sound better than Murdock and Nelson.”
Matt grins. “I’m always right.”
“Well, then I guess you can be right about it all working out, then,” Foggy says, taking a deep breath, and his heartbeat sounds less panicked than it did five minutes ago, so Matt counts it as a success.
It’s even better when Foggy goes back to singing under his breath without the undercurrents of anxiety in his voice. It’s just pure Foggy: off-key, wrong lyrics, but music to Matt’s ears nonetheless.
3
“And in the state of New York, I'll remind you, my client is not required to prove that he was justified in his actions. It's up to the prosecution to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was not justified in defending his life.”
Foggy’s footsteps echo in the courtroom as he walks in front of the jury, his voice sure and calm and loaded with passion. Despite the stress of this case and the tension between them as they prepared for the trial, he’s a natural. Matt has heard Foggy argue for plenty of mock trials, he’s had hundreds of stupid debates with him over the years, but nothing compares to Foggy in his element like this.
“And they will come nowhere close to meeting this burden. At the end of this case, the only verdict that you can render will be not guilty,” Foggy says definitively. A weighted silence follows his words as the jury and the rest of the room considers his words, and Matt smiles proudly as Foggy takes his seat.
Foggy takes a deep breath once they step out of the courthouse later. The weather is chilly but he relaxes in the fresh air nonetheless.
“Oh my god. How’d I do?” he asks Matt, loosening his tie slightly and running his fingers through his hair.
Matt shrugs. “On a scale from one to ten?”
Foggy snorts. “Asshole. Seriously.”
“It was amazing. Were you nervous?”
“Are you still messing with me?” Foggy asks.
Matt smiles. “No, for once. I honestly couldn't tell.” Normally something in Foggy’s voice or heartbeat would give him away, but with how much he believes in this work, Matt isn't surprised he came off so resolute, shady client notwithstanding. “Where’d you get that confidence? You even fooled me.”
“Swear to God?” Foggy asks.
“Don’t tempt me into your sinful ways,” Matt says dryly.
“Worth a shot,” Foggy grins. “Anyway, it’s not every day that Nelson and Murdock make their public trial debut, I had to make a good impression.”
“Consider me impressed,” Matt says. “It was perfect.”
A little too perfect, Matt thinks dizzily as Foggy turns away, inhaling the fresh air and ignoring the urge to loosen his own tie. He’s known for a few months now that at some point in the last couple years his feelings for Foggy most definitely crossed the line from platonic to romantic. He’s normally good at ignoring that, good at acting like Foggy is his friend and nothing more.
But sitting in court listening to Foggy confidently and competently defend their client to the jury? That was…an unexpected challenge, to say the least.
He can’t let himself get distracted, though, thinking back to the pounding heartbeat of one of the jurors and the familiar ticking of Wesley’s watch in the courtroom.
Besides, he will have plenty of opportunities to listen to Foggy’s voice in court in the future.
The thought almost makes him groan.
4
Matt is lying on his back on the couch, facing his ceiling, desperately wishing for Foggy to break the silence. Foggy has always been the more talkative of the two of them, rambling on when he is excited, or nervous, or bored, or anything. The fact that he hasn’t said a word in over an hour scares Matt because he knows Foggy is furious, and maybe this means he is too furious for Matt to repair.
“The hell do I know about Matt Murdock?”
“I thought we were friends.”
“Did you blow up those buildings? Shoot those cops?”
“I can’t hear your heartbeat. Are you telling the truth?”
Matt closes his eyes against the tears that are once again threatening to fall as he replays the day from hell, Foggy’s hurt voice echoing in his head.
He never wanted it to happen like this. He never wanted it to happen ever, but the more he kept going and learning how connected everything was, the more he realized that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen couldn’t leave anytime soon.
And that had been something he struggled with over the last few weeks. Because as much as he has lied to Foggy, as much as he wishes he could go back and tell him everything the day he finally accepted that Foggy wasn’t going to be another person that bailed on him, that was all in the past. He knew that telling him so late would be better than— well, better than stumbling home, bleeding out on his floor for Foggy to find.
It’s too late now. His blood is rushing in his head, ears ringing. His heart is thundering, Foggy’s beating fast in anger. He wants to tune it out, knowing Foggy finds it weird and invasive now that he knows about it, but without the anchor of Foggy’s heartbeat Matt feels adrift, so he allows himself to listen for as long as he still has it nearby.
It is almost enough to distract him from the absence of any other noise from Foggy. No footsteps from pacing. No laughter, no joke to break the discomfort, no voice.
Foggy is radiating tension and questions and anger, but he doesn’t say a word as he stares out of Matt’s living room window. Matt wishes he would say something. Anything.
He could handle Foggy yelling at him more, accusing him again, but he can’t stand the silence. With every bad thing that has happened today, Foggy not speaking to him is the most unsettling, the most unbearable.
Matt just wants to hear his voice.
He wants to cry in relief when he notices it, after another twenty minutes of agony. The telltale sign that Foggy is going to say something, and when it drags on for a few moments too long, Matt can’t stop himself.
“You want to say something,” he tells Foggy.
“Really don’t.” His heartbeat picks up. A lie.
Matt knows it would be stupid to point it out, knows that Foggy is still reeling from the revelation that Matt knew every time he wasn’t being honest, so instead he focuses on his breath. “Your breathing changes when you’re about to.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” Foggy says, tense.
“Say what you need to say,” Matt says as he sits up, trying not to plead, because if Foggy talks to him, maybe there’s still a chance to fix this. In the silence, it feels like Foggy has made up his mind, has given up on Matt. But if he will still listen, then Matt will talk until he can get Foggy to understand, however long that takes.
Foggy starts pacing then, as if he can’t decide what to say, but eventually he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know what to think. You run around dressed like a moron, beating people up!”
“It’s not that simple and you know it,” Matt snaps, even as his shoulders let out some tension, relieved to hear his voice again, to be given another opening.
Foggy scoffs. “No, I don’t know shit. Not about this!”
Matt tries to explain. He tells Foggy about listening to the sirens, about burying his head, then finally tells him about that first night, about that little girl and her monster of a dad. Foggy is quiet, and Matt tries to get him to see that Matt couldn’t just let it happen.
It’s not that simple, though. It’s not enough for Foggy. He sees right through him, he realizes how long Matt has been training for this.
“Maybe it isn’t only about justice. Maybe you just need an excuse to hit someone. Maybe you just can’t stop yourself,” Foggy accuses, because as much as Matt has lied to him, he’s still the person that knows Matt the best.
And maybe Matt should lie some more, twist the truth, say something other than what he wants to say in an attempt to win Foggy over. But he can’t. He can’t keep lying to him, he doesn’t want to. Foggy deserves better, even if that means Matt no longer deserves him.
“I don’t want to stop,” he admits quietly.
The silence that follows is horrible, but Matt can’t take back what he said. He can’t take back what he told Foggy about wanting to kill, about being prepared to end Fisk’s life just last night. And now Foggy finally sees him for what he is. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.
But of course, Foggy can’t just be angry with him. He is too good for Matt, and after everything, he is still worried about his friend. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, if you keep this up,” he says. It’s not a warning, not a question. He says it like it’s a fact, voice shaking slightly.
And then Foggy keeps going, his words like a knife as he tells Matt that he and Karen are a part of this now, and it only reminds Matt of why he kept this secret, how he wanted to keep the two of them and everything else good in the world separate from the Devil. He never wanted to drag his friends into this. He never wanted them to know about this dark side of him, this side that won't stop at anything if it means making the city a better place for them.
“The city needs me in that mask, Foggy,” he says, begging Foggy to understand. He doesn’t bother wiping away the tears that fall, and he can taste the salt in the air as Foggy cries, too.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it does. But I don’t. I only ever needed my friend,” he tells Matt, voice shaking with rage and betrayal.
And then the next thing Matt knows, Foggy is gone. He can’t stop him, doesn’t deserve to even try, but he still calls his name until the door slams shut. Matt sinks back against the couch in defeat and lets himself listen as Foggy’s heartbeat gets further and further away. He listens as Foggy sobs in the elevator then steps outside, taking deep breaths in the night air to calm himself down. He stands on the sidewalk for a long, long time, enough for Matt to foolishly hope that he will change his mind and come back to him.
He doesn’t.
5
It takes months. Months of more arguments, of moments of reconciliation, of Matt making an effort to be honest with Foggy 100% of the time, of Foggy really trying to understand. It’s exhausting at times and Matt wonders if things will ever be the same.
But the important thing is, Foggy stays.
After Fisk gets put in jail, the office becomes full of life. Karen’s cheerful voice greets clients on the phone and as they walk in their doors. The people they help shake Matt’s hands tightly as they tearfully express their gratitude. He can always smell the fresh fruit and assorted pastries given to them as forms of payment. It’s rarely quiet, and when it is, he can often count on Karen to break the silence at the end of the day by suggesting they wrap up their hard work and sometimes go out for dinner or drinks.
And then there’s Foggy. Foggy’s voice as he tells a joke or gives a compliment that immediately relaxes the nervous stranger there for his legal expertise. Foggy’s heartbeat, strong and steady in the background of everything Matt does. Foggy’s shampoo, hints of coconut announcing his arrival in the doorway of Matt’s office.
Foggy’s gentle hands on days when Matt comes into the office with a bleeding lip.
His tight hug at the end of the day when he knows Matt is going to patrol that night.
He can take the arguments that get fewer as the months go on. He can take anything with Foggy still there.
Foggy knocks on Matt’s open door and Matt smiles up at him, pausing the article he is listening to.
“I’m pretty sure you worked through lunch yesterday and our only afternoon appointment just canceled, so I am here to force you to take a break from these walls and have a long lunch with me out in the real world,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Matt tries not to let his smile give away just how much he loves that idea. Foggy’s heartbeat stutters anyway, so he probably wasn’t successful, but it isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Is that so? What’s on the menu today?” Matt asks.
Foggy pokes his head out of the office for a moment. “Our options are looking good. We have half an apple pie left from Etzabel, homemade biscuits with some fresh jam in the fridge from Mrs. Lowry, a bag of candy from the Torres kids, and a box of apples from Mr. Torres.”
“Don’t forget the pork tamales in the fridge!” Karen calls out.
“Right!” Foggy says, heading toward the fridge. “I can heat those up so we can have something to eat other than sugar.”
Matt laughs and gets up, leaning against his door frame as Foggy warms up the tamales. “The perfect spread for a picnic. Alright, you convinced me.”
“Oh, and I found something last night that we could pass the time with,” Foggy says, going back into his office then approaching Matt with a book in his hands. “Here.”
Matt reaches out, letting his fingers brush and linger against Foggy’s hands before grabbing the book. He feels the worn cover, skims his fingers through some pages, inhaling the familiar scent.
“Is this…?” he says, face breaking into a smile. “This is your copy of Lord of the Rings that you have tried to read to me twice now.”
“Hey, third time’s the charm. I lost the bookmark, so we’ll have to start at the beginning, but I still owe it to you to introduce you to the best book ever written.”
Matt is suddenly trying to hide how emotional this is making him feel. It’s not just a book, it’s a book that Foggy loves and wants Matt to love. It’s a reminder of their days in college, of the double date that got them kicked out of a movie theater and a Saturday after finals spent in Central Park listening to Foggy read for hours, insisting that he could do a better job than any audiobook, Matt not putting up any argument because he would rather listen to Foggy’s voice any day of the week.
They’ve had far more good days than bad lately, and this feels like a peace offering. Like the thing Matt has been holding his breath waiting for without realizing ever since Foggy learned about Daredevil. A sign that they’re okay, that Foggy forgives him, that he’s going to keep sticking around. And judging by the way Foggy gently places his hand over Matt’s on top of the book, that was his intention.
“Foggy,” he says, voice low and thick with emotion. “I…”
They both jump as the microwave starts beeping obnoxiously, and Foggy hesitates before stepping away to collect their food. Matt takes a deep, shaky breath, clutching the book tightly.
Karen clears her throat loudly. “It’s not a picnic basket, but you can load up your food in this box I’ve been meaning to recycle for a week,” she says, sounding amused, and Matt nearly jumps again. He almost forgot she was there.
“Excellent idea, Ms. Page,” Foggy says, grabbing the box from her and putting the container with the tamales in it, throwing in some of their paper plates and plastic silverware and an assortment of other snacks to take as well. His heart is beating fast, almost as fast as Matt’s.
“Karen, do you, uh, want to join us?” Matt asks quickly, apologetically.
“I’m gonna pass, thanks,” she says, and Matt can still hear the smile in her voice. “I would hate to intrude on anything,” she adds knowingly.
Before Matt can respond, Foggy hands him his cane, the box of food in his other hand, then he offers an elbow to Matt. “Shall we?”
Matt tucks the book under his arm, using that hand to grab the cane and the other to grab Foggy. Foggy leads them a couple blocks away, finding an empty bench near a planter box that smells like flowers, and they dig into their wild assortment of free food.
The street is loud, the smell of the flowers a little distracting, and the weather is warmer than he had expected, but the food is delicious so Matt focuses on that and, as always, Foggy’s heartbeat, to ground him. Once they’ve had their fill, Foggy takes the book and opens up to chapter one, clearing his throat and beginning to read.
Matt has heard the first chapter a couple times, so he doesn’t feel guilty about letting himself focus less on the words and more on Foggy’s voice as he reads. He can tell when Foggy is smiling, notices when Foggy puts emphasis on a detail that is sure to come up again later, and he laughs when Foggy does different voices for the characters.
His mind starts to wander even more, the longing in his chest reminding him of a conversation he had with Foggy years ago.
“What are you looking for?” Foggy had asked Matt, when they were young and drunk and ready to graduate law school and enter the real world. Together, of course. Matt couldn’t picture his future without Foggy, even then.
“I don't know. I guess just someone I really like listening to,” Matt had told him. Back then, he thought he wanted to find someone whose voice he loved as much as he loved Foggy’s. Now…he just wants Foggy.
It’s a scary thought, that in spite of everything they’ve been through, or perhaps because of it, he still wants Foggy. He knows he could listen to him forever and be content.
Before he can get too lost in his thoughts about Foggy and forever, he shifts his focus and gets sucked back into the story, wondering why they haven’t done this in years, but mostly just grateful they’re doing it now. He’s disappointed when eventually Foggy tells him they should start heading back, they’ve been gone for nearly two hours, but he just nods and holds onto the book again as they walk.
With his other hand he holds onto Foggy’s arm a little tighter, walks a little closer to him, and focuses on his voice to drown out the rest of the city.
+1
It’s past 2am. Matt probably shouldn’t do this, but he’s too overwhelmed with the need to get to Foggy that he can’t think of any better options. There is no chance he’s going to get any sleep tonight or feel satisfied that his hearing is back to normal until he hears Foggy’s voice. Besides, this won’t be the first time that Matt has taken advantage of the fire escape right outside of Foggy’s bedroom window.
He lifts a shaking hand to the glass, knocking in a familiar pattern to let Foggy know it’s him, but Foggy’s heart is still racing with worry when he stumbles out of bed moments later and opens the curtains then the window itself.
“Matt? Jesus, are you okay?”
Matt lets out a shaky exhale. “Can I…?”
“Yes, yeah, get in here,” Foggy says quickly, stepping back. He grabs Matt’s arms to steady him when he practically falls inside, then closes the window and curtains behind him.
Matt tears off his cowl and his gloves, hands still shaking, breathing heavily with how fast he ran to get here.
Foggy hovers, radiating anxiety. “Are you hurt? I can patch you up, or we can call Claire, just show me–”
Matt waves him off. “I’m not hurt, I promise. I just…” he puts his hands on Foggy’s shoulders and takes a few moments to collect himself, feeling more relaxed just by being in Foggy’s presence. “Sorry. I’m okay.”
“You don’t look okay,” Foggy says, sounding alarmed.
“You always know how to make me feel handsome,” Matt says, attempting to give Foggy a flirtatious grin, but Foggy makes a wounded noise.
“There’s blood in your teeth,” he says. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“It’s nothing, I just bit my cheek a little,” Matt dismisses.
“Here, I’ll get you some water.”
Foggy leads the way to his kitchen and Matt follows, practically collapsing on the couch while Foggy fills a glass and brings him the water. Matt drinks quickly, handing it back when he’s done, and he’s relieved when Foggy puts it away then sits down close to him, one hand on his knee.
“What happened?” Foggy asks softly, voice filled with worry, and Matt clenches his jaw, hating that he’s the reason Foggy sounds like that.
He takes a deep breath. “Just a gang, pretty young and pretty stupid, but I miscalculated their willingness to shoot in the dark. I didn’t get hit, but one gun went off right by my ear and my hearing went to shit for a while. I finished taking care of them, but I was so shaken, so scared about losing any of my other senses, I needed…I needed to hear your voice, Foggy.”
Foggy lets out a long breath. “It’s hard to be mad at you for almost getting shot when you look like a kicked puppy.”
“I do not–”
“But I can save it for another time. What matters is you made it out of there, and you can hear me just fine, right?”
Matt nods quickly. “Can you just…keep talking? Please?”
Foggy does. They just saw each other at the office, but Foggy talks about what he did after work, how he almost burned his chicken while cooking dinner, how the news set him on edge so he found a mindless reality show to give him background noise. He called his older sister, a conversation that didn’t last long before his nephew got into some trouble and she promised to call him back this weekend.
Matt just listens, sinking into the couch as he does, letting all his senses be filled with Foggy. He’s surrounded by Foggy’s scent, his hand absentmindedly drifting to rest over Foggy’s on his knee and feel the warmth of his hand. The ringing in his ears has gone away, and he lets himself be soothed by the voice of his best friend.
It’s 3am when Foggy starts to slow down, and Matt squeezes his hand.
“Are you good?” Foggy asks gently.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“You know, I’m starting to think you keep me around just for my voice,” Foggy says. “Between reading to you all the time, narrating your movies, and being partners at a job where we do a hell of a lot of talking, it puts ideas in a man’s head, you know.”
Matt lets out a huff of laughter. “How many times have I told you over the years that I like listening to you? I mean it.”
“Oh,” Foggy says softly, and Matt bites his lip to hide his smile. “You could have called me.”
“I thought I would freak you out,” Matt says. “I didn’t want you to go to my apartment this late, not when I wasn’t out there to make sure the streets were safe enough for you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your night or your sleep, I just–”
“Wanted to hear my voice,” Foggy finishes.
“Yeah,” Matt says, his mouth feeling dry.
“Because you knew it would calm you down?”
“Yeah,” Matt says again, but it doesn’t feel like enough, knows words can’t explain just how much Foggy’s voice grounds him.
“And it worked?” Foggy asks.
“It’s working,” Matt confirms. “Whenever I…I know it’s weird, sorry, but sometimes I use you as an anchor of sorts. Like if I can just focus on you, your heartbeat, your voice, your shampoo, I can calm down, I can not get overwhelmed by everything else I can sense.”
“Even when my heart is racing like it is right now?” Foggy asks.
“Especially when your heart is racing, as long as I know I’m the cause of it,” Matt says, giving him a grin that successfully makes Foggy’s heart speed up even more.
“This is so unfair,” Foggy says with a shaky laugh. “You can sense just how much of an effect you have on me and I’m left wondering.”
“Then let me even the playing field,” Matt says. He grabs Foggy by the wrist and guides his hand to the center of Matt’s chest, Foggy’s fingers splaying out over his suit. For a second, Matt is worried it’s too thick, but then Foggy lifts his head up.
“You…wow,” he says shakily. “I thought I was supposed to calm you down.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Matt smiles softly. “You always have this effect on me.”
He moves his hand from Foggy’s wrist to cover Foggy’s hand again.
“Matt,” Foggy says hoarsely. “I can’t do a good job of letting you hear my voice if you’re just going to make me speechless.”
“Sorry,” Matt says, grinning and not sorry at all. “Would you rather I find another way to just shut you up?”
Foggy nods, then says a quiet, “Yes.”
The word barely leaves his mouth before Matt is leaning forward to meet Foggy’s lips. The angle is off, but Foggy just smiles against him and fixes it, his free hand cupping Matt’s jaw and tilting his head just right.
Foggy’s lips are as soft and warm as the rest of him, and Matt instantly presses forward greedily. He wants to play it cool, wants to use his best kissing moves on him, starting soft and slow and building up to something more, but at one touch of Foggy’s lips all restraint is completely gone. After all, he has been restraining himself around Foggy for years, he figures he deserves to let go now. Foggy still has a hand on his chest and it’s the only thing keeping Matt steady as he leans closer, needing to get closer to Foggy, to feel him, to touch him. One of his hands moves as if it has a mind of its own, as if it knows just how badly Matt needs to touch Foggy’s hair. He runs his fingers through it, pulls it slightly to make Foggy gasp, the sound muffled against Matt’s lips.
Foggy pulls away and Matt involuntarily lets out a disappointed noise and tries to chase after him, but Foggy just laughs, fingers tapping his chest as they catch their breath.
“Do we need to slow down? I can feel how crazy your heart is going, and I’m not sure I could explain to the EMTs how and why a man in the Daredevil suit had a heart attack in my living room,” Foggy says.
“I mean,” Matt says, licking his lips, still tasting Foggy. “We could always take the suit off?”
Foggy laughs again, surprised but happy, and he leans back in to give Matt another quick kiss.
“I like the way you think, Murdock,” he says lowly, breath hot against Matt’s lips, and Matt decides right then and there that this is his favorite way to hear Foggy’s voice.