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Summary
The leather and kevlar fits him just this side of snug, the inch of give on Matt’s body not present on his paradoxically familiar form.
Dex thinks it might feel a little like coming home, if he had that sort of sentimentality. Matt had made him, after all, just as much as he’d been pushed by the Fisks— they couldn’t have come up with this character if they’d tried. Plus, it’s a newer suit. The blacked-out red that’s been haunting Dex’s dreams presses into his skin and leaves lines at his seams. Matt’s never getting his scent out.probably the filthiest thing i've ever written, and i'm not even that sorry. i have to go think about blood now