Work Text:
Every year since Matt met Foggy, Foggy has insisted that they celebrate Halloween in some way or another. When they were in college he always managed to drag Matt to parties on campus, despite Matt’s best efforts. (Though Matt had drawn a thick, black, uncrossable line at costumes.) The year they interned at Landman and Zack they attended the “party” at the office. There was very little drinking and even less good company. Afterward the two of them got hammered at the nearest dive and then crashed in the living room of their shared apartment while reruns of old Halloween movies played on Foggy's old television.
This was their first year without a party to attend that someone else had planned. They were still trying to get on their feet and figuring things out at Nelson and Murdock . Needless to say, hosting a Halloween party for their single employee wasn’t high on their priority list. Though Foggy had asked Karen if she had plans, willing to suggest going out somewhere. She did.
Matt planned to stay in and then go to All Saints’ Mass the next morning. So it was a surprise to him when Foggy came running up the steps to his apartment at 8 o’clock on the evening of October the 31st.
“Hey, buddy!” Foggy greeted when Matt opened the door, breathless from excitement and the stairs. “I know we didn’t arrange anything beforehand, but I have all these beers to drink before tomorrow morning, and a laptop stocked with Halloween movies, so, here I am!”
Matt smiled at Foggy’s antics (though secretly pleased and touched) and stood aside to let him in. “I suppose something can be arranged, since you’re providing the drinks.”
“Only the best for this incredible holiday of horror and candy! Maybe later tonight you can put on your devil costume and we can go trick-or-treating!”
In the living room, Foggy set down his load and turned on his computer. “This is going to be the best Nelson-Murdock Halloween yet! Too bad Karen isn’t here to witness this.”
Matt moved the beer (“Two six-packs, Foggy? Don’t you think that’s a little much for two people?” “We don’t have to drink it all tonight. We can have a second party!”) to his fridge then returned to the couch with his phone to call for take-out.
Matt ordered Chinese from the place around the corner while Foggy finished setting up his speakers and started Young Frankenstein .
They settled down together on the couch as Foggy began his amusing narrations of the action on the screen.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Three hours later Foggy and Matt were sprawled out across Matt’s couch, legs tangled in the middle, each clutching a beer in one hand. They were just starting on the second six-pack (“We need to stop , Foggy. I have to go to Mass tomorrow.”) and they were more than a little tipsy. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was playing from the coffee table, even though Foggy swore side to side (“Don’t you mean up and down?”) that it wasn’t one of the movies he had lined up for tonight.
Matt was mostly out of it anyway, and Foggy’s descriptions had stopped being helpful about an hour ago. (“Ooh, look at that, Matty. Didya see that? That was pretty cool, right? Right, Matty?”)
Matt took a sip of the beer in his hand and then made a face. “What’s this? Is’is pumpkin beer? Fog, this’s disgusting.”
“I know, right?” Foggy slurred. “I couldn’t, uh, I couldn’even hardly even find any beers that aren’t pum’in, so I figured we hadda try it. All the cool kids are drinkin’ it, Matty.”
“Well, it’s gross. Don’t try’t again,” Matt advised in drunken sincerity, turning earnest, unfocused eyes on Foggy.
Foggy snorted at the indeliberate puppy eyes Matt was giving him. He was going to respond very wittingly ( Is wittingly a word? ), but his world was tipping slightly, and Charlie Brown with a pumpkin face drawn on the back of his head was demanding his attention.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning Foggy wakes up to Matt clattering around his apartment as he hurries to get dressed and ready for Mass. Oh, and also there seems to be construction going on inside his head when he sits up. That’s a nice touch.
He drags himself off of Matt’s couch, gratefully helping himself to the coffee in the french press on the table. Matt stumbles out of his room with his suit on but neck tie undone, glasses missing from his pale-faced, and muscles pulled tight against a headache.
Feeling slightly guilty for getting his best friend drunk the night before morning Mass, Foggy retrieves Matt’s glasses off the floor by the couch where they were discarded last night.
Matt is standing in the kitchen looking lost, like he’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to be doing. He moves one hand to his forehead, fingertips pressing above his eyebrows as he squints again the drumbeat in his head.
“If you don’t hurry, you’re gonna be late,” Foggy tells him as he hunts for pain relievers in Matt’s kitchen cupboard.
Finding the life-saving drugs, Foggy dumps two onto his hand, swallowing one dry and offering the other to Matt. Matt holds out a hand for it, but after Foggy drops in his palm, he holds it in front of him like he’s not sure what to do with it.
“Swallow it,” Foggy suggests, pressing a cup of coffee into Matt’s other hand. Matt follows the instructions, washing the pill down with the hot coffee. Foggy takes the mug from him and reaches in to tie Matt’s tie. Matt allows Foggy to fuss with his tie and then his suit with a familiarity born of years of intimate friendship and shared living space.
Foggy grabs Matt’s glasses from the counter where he relocated them, and hands them to Matt who slips them on his face. He ushers Matt to his front door, handing him the cane that Matt left near the door. He pulls Matt into a tight hug. “Thanks for the great night, buddy. Now go to your Catholic guilt thing.
Matt huffs indignantly into Foggy’s neck, but smiles as Foggy pulls away from him. “It’s called Mass, Foggy,” he corrects as his friend pushes him toward the open door.
“Yeah, sure. Hurry up or you’ll be late, and then you’ll have to confess that your priest too.”
Matt huffs again, but turns and starts down the stairs, tapping his cane on the steps as he goes.
Foggy closes the door and head back to Matt’s living room to clean up the mess from last night before he heads home.