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Chapter 1 - Peter Parker
Peter Parker did not often find himself in Hell’s Kitchen. Sometimes, Mr. Daredevil needed a bit of help with the crime lord of the week, or there was a connection to a villain in Queens to another in the Kitchen, but it was still rare. The last time Spiderman was swinging through Hell’s Kitchen, Mr. Punisher had to not only save Peter’s life, but Matt’s too. It was weird, seeing a literal mass murderer knock people unconscious instead of sending them to the morgue. More alarming than that: how gentle the Punisher was with Matt.
But, because of either too much caffeine or ADHD, Peter was onto the next thing. Besides, he was seeing Wade later, which always distracted him.
Tonight, Peter was back in the Kitchen for no reason other than to bother Mr. Daredevil. He was bored, and Matt always let him talk about whatever came to mind without asking him to be quiet. Wade was that way, too, but he was busy with Colossus. Sure, Peter could call, but he didn’t want to bother Deadpool during a mission.
It was easy to find Mr. Daredevil. There was one rooftop in particular he liked to brood on. Though he told Spiderman it wasn’t brooding— it was a way to listen to the entire city at once. So, Peter flung himself up on a billboard and prepared the descent down, when he saw another figure with Matt.
“This feels ridiculous, Frank.”
“Maybe if you told Potter to put some fleece in your long johns, we wouldn’t be havin’ this issue.”
Spiderman was surprised that Daredevil didn’t notice him yet. He usually knew Peter was coming before even Peter did, but he seems… caught up. Frank stood behind Matt, chin on the top of his cowl, arms wrapped around the front of him. Daredevil had his back flush with the Punisher’s chest, arms enveloped by a thick, leather trenchcoat, trapped in a warm cocoon.
“Still can hear okay?” Frank asked, tugging Matt impossibly closer. Matt wiggled around for a second, then settled.
“Yep.”
Peter was a bit jealous of how warm the two of them looked. New York winters were terrible; he would cuddle up to the Punisher too! Though this looked more intimate than sharing body heat… Matt was smiling a shy grin, leaning nearly his full weight back on Frank. The Punisher swayed the two of them slightly, chin rubbing the crown of Daredevil’s cowl. Spiderman grinned and flung back towards Queens, dialing Deadpool’s burner of the week. Wade was going to lose it when he told him about a certain murderer turned soft by the Devil himself.
Chapter 2 - Karen Page
“Hey, stranger,” Karen smiled, startling Frank when he opened the door to Nelson, Murdock, and Page. He was holding a bag of sandwiches it looked like, and selfishly, Karen hoped he had one for her.
“Karen. They still got ya chained to the desk this late, huh?”
“Well, Mr. Murdock supervises with an iron fist.”
Frank barked a laugh at that, causing Karen to laugh as well.
“I’ve had drill sergeants be less assholes than the pretty thing you’ve got back there.”
“You both realize I can hear you, right?” Matt called from his office, glaring in the general direction through the window of where Karen and Frank were standing.
Frank grinned a soft smile she’s never seen towards Matt. Two things struck Karen instantly: one, pretty thing? Two, that little smile Frank had. It looked good on him.
“Here, I brought you this,” Frank said, pulling a sub out of the bag. Karen groaned, tearing into the wrapper before the sandwich hit the desk. She had half the thing gone before she called her thanks, saying there was fresh coffee made.
“But there’s only one clean mug. It’s Foggy’s turn to do dishes,” Karen added, mouth full.
So Karen ate her sandwich and kept working. She looked at her notes, piecing everything together so that when Foggy was back tomorrow, they could hopefully sort this case out. An hour or so passed when Matt’s laugh shook her from the papers. Frank’s voice rose over his laughs.
“No, but listen, Red. This guy just had no idea—”
Matt snorted another laugh. Karen wondered briefly if they even remembered she was sitting here, until she found herself grinning at the laughter between the two. When has she ever heard them laugh like that? Not Matt’s fake, polite laugh, or Frank’s breathy laugh, but a real laugh.
Karen looked over at the two. Frank was on Matt’s desk, sitting on the edge. He was telling Matt a story that had the lawyer in tears with how hard he was laughing. Matt’s hand was resting on Frank’s knee, head tilted up towards Frank, adding his own jokes in the tale. When their laughter died down, Frank took a long sip from Matt’s coffee, only to have it swiped out of his hand when he teased Matt about the amount of sugar put in. Then, Matt took a sip, from the same spot Frank’s mouth just was.
“The Punisher uses flavored chapstick?” Matt gasped in fake surprise.
“I gotta buy the three-pack now, since some Devil keeps taking them all. There’s no plain ones in the pack.”
“What flavor is that? Cherry?” Matt asked, tilting his head in the way he does when he’s being an ass.
“How ‘bout you lean up and find out, altar boy?”
Karen’s deskphone rang, startling all three of them. Then, Frank— the Punisher— blushed when she shot him a sly smirk. They remembered she was still here, now.
Chapter 3 - David Lieberman
David really tried to stay out of Frank’s business. He tried to not worry about his friend, only checking in when Sarah threatened him to do so, or his kids started asking about when Frank would be at dinner. So imagine his surprise when the special burner phone him and Frank communicated on rang just after Sarah took the cookies out of the oven. He sighed. This was their tradition for weeks now; put the kiddos down, make cookies for the two of them, and watch whatever Netflix show Sarah was obsessed with at the time. Sometimes they’d roll around in the sheets, sometimes they’d talk about conspiracy theories, sometimes they’d pass out with the lights on. But it was awesome.
“Frank, this better be important.”
“Tell him I said hi!”
“Sarah says hi!”
“Well, hello to you both. But this isn’t Frank. This is Dare— Matthew Murdock.”
Isn’t that the lawyer guy? The cute lawyer guy. The cute, Daredevil, lawyer guy. Or at least that’s what Frank said last time he was in a blood loss induced haze (both the cute part and Daredevil part).
“Listen. Frank said you’re really good with computers. We were out on— out on the town and got separated. He has his phone with him. Can you track him?”
Well, at least it’s an easy job. Sarah winks at him as he starts heading downstairs, grabbing a Redbull on the way down. It’s like a nightcap… David never knows with Frank.
“I’ll do some poking around and see what I can find.”
Matt starts saying thanks, but there’s a lot of yelling and gunshots, so the line goes dead. David just shrugs and boots up his system, getting ready to find Frank. First, he taps into his phone and starts going through call logs, text logs, maps, anything that can help him get a location. He can’t just find out where Frank is since the damn thing is so old, but he does have access to every street camera (and most businesses) in Hell’s Kitchen.
On the call log, there are tons of missed calls from…. Princess?
Wait.
Princess?! Who the hell was princess in Frank’s phone? It obviously wasn’t David (he was only a little hurt) or Curtis, since they both had contact names. Maybe it was that Amy kid. Frank always had a soft heart for children, even if it hurt him because of his past. But most of those calls are from this princess recently, and Frank doesn’t talk to Amy all that much.
Hmmm….
Is cute, Daredevil, lawyer also princess? This was getting to be quite a mouthful.
But, there is a text to this Princess from Frank, telling them to not go anywhere near 44th and 11th. So, David starts hacking into cameras and using his recognition software to find Frank. Lucky for him, it looks like he was fighting a large group of… cops? Then, set off a flash grenade and ran, diving off of a roof and into a dumpster.
What is with vigilantes and dumpsters?
David grabs the burner and calls Matt back. He answers on the very first ring.
“Microchip?”
“The one and only. Hey, are you princess, by chance?”
Then there was silence. That’s how David knew Matt Murdock (cute, Daredevil, lawyer) was Frank’s boyfriend. Frank’s princess. Oh, Sarah was going to love this.
“How do you know that?”
“Frank basically gets calls from princess or calls princess, exclusively. There’s a few logs of Curtis, or Karen, but mostly this mystery person. Then, I get Mr. Murdock calling me, asking if I could track down Frank. See how that looks?”
Matt laughed.
“It’s just an inside joke. Did you find him?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s in the dumpster behind Starbucks on 43rd and 11th. Looks like he fell in about an hour ago. The guys he was fighting are gone, so getting over there should be easy.”
Matt swore, then hung up. David knew Frank was going to be fine, so instead of worrying, he went to gossip with Sarah.
Chapter 4 - Jessica Jones
Jessica was at this stupid, fancy-ass restaurant for one of her clients. What she desperately wanted was the bottle of cheap whiskey she had in her desk drawer, a frozen pizza, and the blue light from her computer causing a migraine. Instead, she had a glass of wine she could barely pronounce, a dress stolen from Karen after the last time they worked on something together, and overpriced pasta in front of her.
At least the pasta was good.
She thought about calling it quits and catching the cheater when he brought his sidepiece home after the meal, so she could at least get a buzz from her flask and eat shitty french fries from a foodstand while she waited, but then Matt Murdock walked in.
Being led by Frank Castle. The Punisher.
Matt’s hand rested quite comfortably on Frank’s bicep, his fingers squeezing the muscle under the nice button down he wore. Even Jessica could appreciate those forearms showing from where the sleeves were already rolled up. They were led to a table almost perfectly across the room from Jessica. Frank, surprisingly a gentleman, pulled Matt’s chair out for him and helped him settle into the seat.
They didn't even notice her sitting over here. Maybe they were on recon? Though this place seemed a bit too warm, too nice, for sleazy scumbags. It was too romantic.
Frank leaned close to Matt, holding the menu. It looked like he was reading Matt the wine list Jessica had also received. Frank seemed like he was trying to pick something good; Jessica picked a random number and ordered that glass of wine. It was almost cute, watching the Punisher order the perfect bottle for him and Matt.
But it was almost… too intimate for recon. Especially when Matt hooked his ankle around Frank’s under the table. Then it dawned on Jessica. Daredevil and the Punisher were on a date. Oh, this was perfect blackmail material. She pulled her phone out, acting like she was texting, but took a few photos of the two lovebirds. Especially when Frank grabbed Matt’s hand.
Finally, the star of Jessica’s shitshow showed up. She ate her pasta, ordered another glass of that stupid wine (twenty bucks a glass, even though it tasted like vinegar) and gave her attention to Frank and the idiot that was going to get her paid. She thought about ordering dessert when the waitress came back, but the scenes in front of her were already too sweet. For different reasons.
Matt twirled his pasta on his fork and held it out to Frank.
Her client’s husband kissed his sidepiece on the lips.
Frank wiped sauce off of Matt’s mouth.
The cheating husband gave his affair partner some sort of ring.
Daredevil and the Punisher shared some sort of cake. Frank put a dab of cream on Matt’s nose, and Matt leaned forward to put it back on Frank, who just kissed it off.
Jessica almost puked.
Finally, Matt reached for the bill, but Frank grabbed his hand, kissed it as a distraction, and shoved a decent stack of bills into the little tray. He stood, pulled Matt’s chair back, and offered his hand. Before they left the restaurant, Matt kissed the bottom of Frank’s jaw.
Jessica smiled. It was disgusting.
Then Frank met her eyes and went stiff like a plank of wood. Jessica didn’t need Matt’s radar senses to know he shit his pants.
Chapter 5 - Foggy Nelson
Foggy was a great friend. The best, in his opinion.
He stood in front of Matt’s apartment door, bag of Tylenol and electrolyte drinks in hand, braille files on their new case under his arm. He saw the news last night— Matt would be in no shape to come to the office. But while Foggy and Karen handled appointments (and slacked off in between), Matt could at least read some of the information Karen put together. She had a knowing smirk when she shoved the folder in his hand this morning, offering him a sip out of the flask she stole from Jessica for “his nerves.”
“Matty, come on buddy! Open up! There’s work to be done!”
Foggy pounded on the door again. He did have a spare key, but he was kind of traumatized after all the times he went into Matt’s apartment and saw him half-dead on the floor. But, he was getting impatient, and there was gossip to be had with Karen (about Jessica and Matt and Brett and all the other people they had been saving drama on), so Foggy dug the key out of his pocket and went in.
“Buddy?”
Foggy heard scrambling in the living room and a dark, smooth chuckle. When Foggy rounded the corner, Matt stood in the living room, black sweatpants a size too big tucked into thick, fluffy socks. His hair was a mess, like he just tumbled out of bed, and he was wearing a black shirt with the Punisher skull on it. He must’ve been halfway to the door, because Matt tried to stand in Foggy’s way to block him from…
Holy shit.
Was that the fucking Punisher?!
And the Punisher in question was bare in Matt’s kitchen, aside from a pair of boxers, flipping pancakes. When did Matt start having groceries? There were a few rows of fresh stitches on his back (a very nice back, even for a killer) and… Jesus Christ. Were those scratch marks?
“Matty, what the fuck?”
He should’ve taken a sip out of Karessica’s flask (yes, he combines their names!)
Frank turned his head, sighed, and went back to his cooking.
“Foggy, this is not what it looks like.”
With curses under his breath, Foggy went to Matt’s fridge and tugged out a beer. Never too early to have a drink when your best friend is not only Daredevil, but apparently getting boned by the Punisher. Foggy thought Frank was pretty built, with great muscles and a nice voice, but for Matt to stoop so low?
“Looks pretty bad, Red,” Frank huffed, sliding a plate with a few pancakes on it towards Foggy. The chocolate chips were arranged in a little smiley face. That slightly put Foggy at ease.
“So you two are what? A thing? Boyfriends?”
Matt sighed and started pacing while Frank tensed.
“No, Foggy, we just work together sometimes.”
“Workout together, more like,” Foggy grumbled, stabbing some pancake with a fork.
Both of their ears turned pink. Foggy took that as a success— it wasn’t every day one could get the Punisher to blush. Frank handed Matt a plate of pancakes, no chocolate chips, but syrup in the same smiley that Foggy had. Frank started another batch for himself, no smiley face.
Matt reached over and fixed that, though the face kind of drooped off the pancake.
“So… what did you—”
“Really, Matt? Frank Castle? How do you expect me to give the shovel talk to the freakin’ Punisher?”
“I’m still standin’ here, Nelson.”
Foggy glared at Frank, though he was sure Matt heard his heart about to beat from his chest.
“He is literally making pancakes with smiley faces in my kitchen. Are you sure you shouldn’t be giving me the shovel talk?”
Epilogue - Fratt
“You’re not coming with Karen and I?”
Matt took his fingers off of the braille display. He didn’t even hear Foggy walk in, let alone Karen washing coffee cups and getting her purse and jacket together. The exhaustion is heavy; he really needs to take a night off. Last night, Frank basically dragged him back home half-dead after he missed a step jumping between rooftops.
“Sorry, Foggy. I need to catch up on this.”
“Suit yourself! Karen, it’s shot-o-clock!”
Matt smiled to himself, listening to his friends leave the office and head over to Josie’s. It was just about dinner, so the city had the usual noise of laughter, curses, and honking horns. Subconsciously, Matt ran his fingers over the braille display and let his mind wander to one familiar heartbeat. One that was grounding, always the same, steady beating and always strong. Thump—thump—thump. It was silly how often Matt found himself tuning his senses out and focusing on just that one heartbeat. If he really focused, Matt could smell the coffee and gunpowder, mixed with the mint gum Frank always had.
The braille display was long forgotten; Matt heard the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the baritone hum of a 90’s country song, and the sizzle of hot oil in a pan. Frank was in Matt’s apartment, cooking by the sounds of it, and even had his boots off, if the lack of clunking was anything to go by. So, Matt smiled to himself, shut his laptop, and headed back to his loft.
☆
“What are you doing in my apartment?” Matt asked, toeing his dress shoes off next to Frank’s black combat boots. It really wasn’t a surprise Frank was here cooking dinner, as this is a fairly common occurrence, but Matt could pretend he was disturbed.
“You had an old can of soup and one egg in your kitchen this mornin’, choir boy.”
Matt sighed and pulled his tie loose, slinging his jacket over the back of the couch. Frank had already poured him a glass of whiskey, waiting on the kitchen island, and if Matt’s senses were really as good as he believed, his fridge and cabinets were fully stocked.
“Did you have a nice day today?” Matt asked, throwing back his drink and tapping the glass for more.
“Yeah, not bad. The usual, y’know? Hittin’ concrete with a hammer in the mornin’, recon over lunch, stabilizing beams in the afternoon.”
Frank poured Matt another finger of whiskey, sliding it across the island and into his palm.
“What about you?”
“It was fine. We have a new case that’s driving me crazy. And you know how Karen is, getting herself in all sorts of trouble trying to investigate it.”
Frank snorted, sliding a load of garlicky bread into the oven to crisp it.
“Yeah, that woman has a thing for trouble. Good thing she has Daredevil and the Punisher on her payroll.”
Matt barked a laugh, sipping at his whiskey. Frank didn’t skimp out, he bought the good stuff. He also slid a plate down the island, a little helping of bruschetta on it. After taking his first bite, Matt couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you ever think we’re like a married couple?” Matt asked, bold from the whiskey and warm from Frank cooking in the kitchen.
And Frank… he opened his mouth in a snarky retort, then thought back to seeing Karen a few weeks back. Then Matt calling Micro. Then Jessica busting them on a date after Matt nearly burned his kitchen down. Then Foggy ruining Frank’s perfect morning after his best night in a while.
“You’re not seeing anyone else behind my back, are ya?” Frank teased, taking the pasta out of the starchy water and tossing it into the sauce.
“Of course I’m not,” Matt huffed, tapping his glass again like Frank was a damn waiter.
“Good, ‘cause I’d have to kill ‘em,” Frank said, refilling his glass. And, why the hell not, he poured himself one too. He’d need liquid courage.
Frank tapped the wooden spoon on the pan, setting it down and leaning over the counter towards Matt, giving him the chance to pull away. Instead, Matt put his head on his hands, leaning forward too, smiling that stupidly cute grin.
“I’d laugh, but I think you’re being serious,” Matt hummed, reaching a hand out towards Frank. When he tried to retract, Frank grabbed his hand and set it on his heart.
“Is it telling you I’m bein’ serious?”
“Yes.”
Frank barked a laugh, leaning back into Matt’s space. Frank was warm, smelling of coffee and garlic and something so surprisingly sweet, so uniquely Frank, that Matt took another deep inhale. Frank brushed a lock of auburn hair off of Matt’s forehead, letting his knuckle gently trace the pale cheekbone, smiling when his Devil leaned into his touch. Frank brushed his lips against Matt’s, barely enough pressure to be considered a kiss, but enough so he knew what Frank was thinking.
“What’s my heart tellin’ ya now?”
“That you want to kiss me again.”
Frank certainly didn’t need his heart to tell him twice, not when it so clearly belonged to Matt.