Holding on

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It’s fragile. The friendship between Matt and Foggy. At best. Maybe it’s even broken and they dance around the shards. But that doesn’t mean it’s permanent. Because no matter the state of what they are to each other, it’s never gone. Never. No matter how loud their fights are. Or how angry the silence is.

Foggy let him in. Of course. Matt’s ashamed to admit that he knew Foggy would not turn him away. Being honest with himself, Matt knows he’s taking advantage of a weakness.

While Foggy is good at many things, abandoning Matt isn’t one of them. Even if it’s the umpteenth time that Matt ran away and tried hiding behind Daredevil. And - as each time before - after a few months, Daredevil could no longer shield him. Because at the end of the day, Daredevil is just Matt Murdock who is just a man. A tired vulnerable man, wearing a heavy armor made of an unhealthy image of masculinity. A man who needs his best friend.

Foggy is here. Where else would he be? This is his office after all, theirs again now. Nelson and Murdock reunited. At least on paper and on the sign at the door. Matt’s surname had only been covered up by duct tape while he was gone. Foggy knew. With a sigh, he pulls off the tape and says “Welcome back, buddy.”

It’s not sarcastic. He means it and he is relieved. Happy he is not. But Matt will change this. This time he’ll stay and whenever he feels the urge to run, he’ll talk. To Foggy. And because Foggy is his best friend and the smartest person he knows, they’ll find a way. Matt will hold on.

Gently, Foggy pulls Matt into a hug. Matt revels in the scent of him, a familiar scent, the scent of the only home he has left. Of course, he is subtle. Even though he wants to bury his nose in Foggy’s neck and breathe in, he simply returns the warm embrace.

It will work. Though it might take a while. They just need to learn to run smoothly again together. Like with an old abandoned car, the groundwork is still there, still functional. It’s just that it needs new fuel and the motor may stutter a bit at the beginning. But it will drive and get them everywhere. Matt can’t help wondering and hoping about what “everywhere” entails.

Matt’s grateful for the big case. For one, it puts Foggy in a good mood. For two, it’s good for their bank account (which plays a huge role in Foggy’s good mood). For three, it’s too big for one of them so they stay in the office after hours every night. Just the two of them with coffee and take out, working a case together. Like it should be.

It’s almost blissful. Matt listens to Foggy talking, enjoys the sound of his voice, prides in his partner’s wits. Whenever Foggy praises an idea Matt has, Matt grins like a schoolboy. But his favorites are the moments in which they are the well-oiled machine again, working out an argument together, so insync that in the end neither of them knows who contributed what, only that it’s perfect.

They scoot closer to each other as the evening proceeds. Apparently, Foggy doesn’t notice and if he does, he doesn’t complain. So Matt won’t either. Foggy’s aftershave merges with coffee and curry, creating a strangely soothing scent of home.

“Let’s check precedence again,” Foggy says at one point. “Where’s the Carlson file?”

Matt knows where Foggy has put the file and wants to help him. Apparently, Foggy’s question was rhetorical though. Both Matt and Foggy turn their chairs at the same time to reach the low cabinet the file rests on.

Matt’s hand glides along Foggy’s thigh. It’s the fragment of a second. But it stretches out for Matt, having his brain circuit. The sensation of the expensive fabric against his fingers, the soft give of the flesh underneath, the tiny gasp Foggy lets out, barely audible but impossible to miss for Matt.

They both freeze. But Foggy laughs after a while. His voice takes on that tone he uses to dismiss something even though it does affect him.

“Is that the point where I giggle shyly and say ‘please keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Murdock’?” he asks as he stands to get the file.

Foggy’s trying to play it off. But Matt whose fingertips still tingle from this one touch, can’t do the same. He gets up and crowds Foggy against the table.

“Then it’s probably the point where I tell you ‘stop being so irresistible then, Mr. Nelson’.”

Matt can sense the heat, blooming Foggy’s cheeks. Part of him feels bad for coming on so strong, most parts of him, however, just cheer because it’s working.

“You can’t even see me, Mr. Murdock,” Foggy replies, the wavering of his voice belying its humorous tone.

“Smell can be just as tempting, Mr. Nelson,” Matt says while he bends down to brush his nose along Foggy’s hair.

“Well, I apologize for my tempting scent.” Foggy’s laughter is almost panicked now, but Matt can smell the arousal on him, the sheen of sweat forming on his skin. His rising pulse is like a beacon that calls Matt home.

Matt has promised himself to talk to Foggy from now on. About everything. Which includes his feelings of course. Something which would definitely be smart to talk about before pushing Foggy against a conference table and seducing him.

But how can he be smart when all his senses are full of Foggy? When there is his enticing smell, his soothing familiar heartbeat? And when the nervous swipe of Foggy’s tongue tells Matt exactly where Foggy’s lips are?


This is new. That extreme level of flirting has never occured between them before. So Foggy is still processing and not at all prepared for Matt to kiss him. But it looks like his body has an emergency plan for that specific event as his eyes fall shut immediately and his lips part for Matt.

Foggy lets Matt set pace and rhythm. Smoothly, Matt licks into Foggy’s mouth, tongue seeking out its counterpart. A calloused hand cups his cheek and the other slides down his spine until it rests on the small of his back.

After a while, Foggy circles his arms around Matt and entwines his hands at the nape of Matt’s neck. A content hum vibrates in Matt’s throat. His fingers wander from Foggy’s face into his hair, lightly pulling. Foggy feels Matt smile against his mouth as Foggy’s surprised gasp fades into the kiss. The hand on Foggy’s back pushes Foggy against Matt’s lean chest, gentle but insistent.

Lost in the kiss, Foggy forgets his surroundings. Vaguely, he is aware that Matt begins to steer him through the room, away from the conference table with all their notes and documents. His legs hitting his desk snaps him out of it for a moment.

“Matt,” he breathes out.

But then Matt grabs his upper legs. Easily, he lifts Foggy up and places him on the desk. Of course, Foggy knew before that Matt is strong, but experiencing it first hand, is ridiculously hot and antithetical to coherent thought.

“Matt, I…” he tries again. That’s how far he gets.

“Shh.” Matt nips at Foggy’s lips before burying his nose in the slope of his neck. “I’ll make it so good for you.”

“I don’t doubt that, Matt. Your reputation is flawless and I ear-witnessed a lot as your roommate. My concern is more that the glue on our freshly repaired friendship hasn’t dried yet and this could really mess things up,” is the smart thing that Foggy should say.

Instead, he says something along the line of, “Hnnngh” when Matt sweetly yet passionately mouths along his pulse point.

This is a bad idea. Not that Foggy doesn’t want this. He wants all of Matt and wants to give everything of himself in return. But what about Matt? Until now Foggy wasn’t even sure Matt liked men. Apparently he does, but he also likes women and he sure is bad at loving them. So what is this?

Is this a game? Letting off steam after a stressful day? If so, Foggy is just now opening his chest and begging for his heart to be carved out. But the alternative is denying Matt something he wants. And Foggy sure is better at torturing himself than at denying Matt anything. Actually, he doesn’t know why he is even thinking about it. It’s not as if there was any question how this would end.

Willingly, Foggy spreads his legs. Matt stands between them after he shrugs off his jacket. Pressing their bodies together, he grabs the fabric of Foggy’s as well and pushes it down Foggy’s shoulders. His fingers find Foggy’s shirt buttons. Quickly, he undoes them and Foggy finally comes out of his haze to return the favor. Reverently, he strokes along Matt’s muscles torso while Matt’s hand slides his hand underneath the fabric of Foggy’s shirt.

Accompanied by an appreciative moan, he caresses Foggy’s broad chest and the curve of his belly. Index finger and thumb catch and tease a nippel for a moment. Foggy squeaks a bit and Matt freezes.

“Not good?” he asks.

“No, no, just surprised,” Foggy hurries to say. “It’s alright.”

“Hmm. ‘Alright’ is not good enough.”

Matt catches Foggy’s lips once more. Then he kisses along his jaw towards his throat. As he finds the sensitive spot again, he nips and licks at it, earning himself a full body shiver and a needy moan from Foggy. Keeping up his ministrations, he pushes Foggy down, gently placing Foggy’s wrists next to his face.

Starting at Foggy’s neck, Matt kisses a trail down his torso. His hands meanwhile glide along Foggy’s sides, leaving a path of goosebumps behind. As his fingers reach Foggy’s trousers, his mouth is on level with Foggy’s crotch, nose brushing along the half hard cock. Slowly, Matt’s fingertips are tracing the waistband from the outside to the inside until they rest at the fly.

“May I?” Matt whispers.

“Please,” Foggy gives back.

Smiling, Matt opens the fly. He grabs both the trousers and the underpants. Helpfully, Foggy lifts his butt so Matt can pull the fabric down. At once, Matt is on Foggy and licks a long wet stripe from the base of Foggy’s cock to the tip.

Crying out, Foggy arches his back. Two strong hands grab his waist and push him back down. Holding him in place, Matt uses his tongue on Foggy again. He repeats the move and soon the half erection is a full one.

Foggy gasps and writhes in Matt’s grip. For a while Matt keeps teasing him until he suddenly wraps his lips around Foggy’s cock and takes him into his mouth completely. Cursing and moaning, Foggy tenses. Matt’s dark chuckle vibrates through Foggy’s whole body and Foggy’s eyes roll back in his head before fluttering shut.

In an even rhythm, Matt bobs his head, taking Foggy in. Foggy lets himself fall, giving in to sensation and focusing on his pleasure. He feels approaching the edge and even though he doesn’t want it to end, he craves the relief.

But then it stops. With a pop Matt pulls off and Foggy’s eyes snap open. Matt’s wearing a shit eating grin as Foggy stares at him, desperate and breathless. But Matt’s expression is tender as his finger draws circles on Foggy’s belly.

“I was hoping I could…” his free hand wanders between Foggy’s arse cheeks.

“Okay!” Foggy says, maybe a little too fast.

However, Matt smiles even broader and impressively fast gets rid of his own pants. His cock, standing proud and tall, curves along his stomach, precum gathering at the slit. Looking at this, Foggy feels reality leak into his mind. He sits up.

“There… there is a condom in my purse,” he says. “But unless you carry lube around…”

“On most condoms is some,” Matt says. “And I’ll go slow. If it’s too much, we’ll do something else.” He gently cups Foggy’s cheeks and smiles. “It’s not exactly your first time, is it?”

Foggy narrows his eyes. Playfully, he circles a hand around Matt’s cock.

“Slut-shaming me, are you?”

“I’d never shame you for that,” Matt laughs but then he lets out a breathless groan and throws his head back as Foggy begins to stroke along his shaft. Visibly wistful, he catches Foggy’s wrist after a few motions. “Lay back down,” he orders and Foggy obeys.

Wordless, Matt taps against Foggy’s lips with his index finger. Foggy opens up. Sloppily, he licks and sucks to get the finger wet, making Matt groan. A bit clumsy, Matt fumbles for Foggy’s jacket with his other hand and finds the condom in the purse. He hands it to Foggy as he removes his finger from Foggy’s mouth.

The wet digit circles around Foggy’s asshole. Moaning, Foggy throws his head back and struggles with the condom. While Foggy tries to rip the wrapping, Matt pushes one knuckle in, before slowly going deeper. Foggy cries out and his head hits the desk when Matt brushes along his prostate. When he doesn’t see stars anymore, the condom is no longer in his hand.

Matt has it.

“Tsk.” He grins and pulls his finger out of Foggy. “You really need to focus, Foggy!”

Foggy sticks out his tongue but doesn’t reply. He watches how Matt unpacks the condom and pulls it over his length.


“Shh.” Matt presses him back down. “Relax.”

So Foggy does.

Gently, Matt puts his hands on Foggy’s knees to spread his legs wider. He positions himself at Foggy’s puckered hole. Pushing against the loosened muscle, he takes his time with every inch. As promised, he is careful. Of course he is. Physically, Matt would never hurt him.

Foggy’s aware that Matt can’t watch his face. He cannot look out for any signs of discomfort or pain. But still, Foggy feels safe. Somehow he knows that all of Matt’s heightened senses are zeroed in on him. His pulse, his breath, each tiny motion, each moan or sigh - Matt can see more of him than any other man could. So Foggy is relaxed and pliant in Matt’s arms. The noises falling from his lips, sweet sighs, quiet moans, speak of pleasure not pain.

Matt pushes deeper. At first, there is resistance and Matt is cautious. Soon, his patience is rewarded as Foggy’s body gives and Matt can take. Inch by inch, he moves further in until he finds that sweet spot again that makes Foggy cry out.

Desperately, Foggy seeks leverage. Finally, he finds it in Matt’s shoulders, holding on. Matt pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside Foggy. The drag of it against his walls makes Foggy tremble. He throws his head from side to side, panting and gasping. His patience evaporates and he all but begs.

“Matt! It’s fine. Fuck me already!”

Matt laughs softly. But to Foggy’s luck, he’s apparently beyond teasing as well. At least, beyond too much teasing. Leisurely, he rolls his hips and picks up the pace gradually.

His face is a picture of pleasure and awe. Braced on one hand, he lets the other wander across Foggy’s upper body. Soft and gentle, it comes to a halt at Foggy’s throat, possessive but sweet, his way of seeing what he does to Foggy’s body.

By now he is pounding into Foggy at a punishing pace, his friend a moaning and begging mess underneath him. Matt bends down again to kiss Foggy’s lips, his throat and his shoulder. Foggy’s cock is trapped between them, leaking on both their stomachs.

Foggy’s hand wanders towards it, but Matt literally growls at him and grabs his wrist. Then he pushes himself up. Foggy whines at the loss of warmth and body contact. However, when Matt swivels his hips and changes the angle of his thrusts just so, he helplessly moans and almost melts into the desk.

Snapping his hips harshly, Matt simultaneously takes hold of Foggy’s cock. In sync with his thrusts, he jerks Foggy off and all Foggy can do is take it - and he’s loving it. He’s overwhelmed and soon it becomes too much. One especially well-aimed attack on his prostate has him cry out and an intense orgasm rips him away. He clenches around Matt’s cock as his own spend paints his stomach pearly white.

“God, yes!” Matt fucks him through it until the tension leaves Foggy’s body.

Then he takes a rough hold off Foggy’s hips and chases his own pleasure. Soon, Foggy feels Matt pulsating inside him. Foggy is sensitive now, but it’s too good a feeling to have Matt ride out his pleasure inside him to complain.

Finally, Matt sinks down. He presses a kiss against Foggy’s collarbone and just lies there for a while.

Foggy sweats. His back is killing him and his skin starts to itch under the drying semen. But he’ll be damned if he says a word. Too scared of what will happen now, he doesn’t dare break the magic silence. When the afterglow ends, he’ll have to deal with what they’ve done and what it means.

He loves Matt so much. It was fine. A constant thrumming underneath his skin that he had learned to deal with. Now that he’s given into it, it’s bursting out of every pore and he has no idea how to stuff it back in.

When Matt begins to move, Foggy’s heart sinks. He watches Matt stand up. He’s still inside Foggy, but his softening cock slips out now. Sighing, Matt takes care of the condom. Meanwhile, Foggy wonders if he should get dressed. Groaning, he sits up. He’s gonna feel his ass and back for a while.His eyes fall to the floor where Matt’s jacket and trousers are lying, crumpled and probably dirty now.

Shit. What have they done?


Quickly, Matt discards the condom. Without much trouble, he finds his trousers and puts them back on. He slips into his shirt and wants to ask Foggy to help with the buttons. It’s then that he notices how quiet Foggy has fallen. Matt’s heart sinks with the feeling that he messed up.

Foggy sits on the edge of his desk. Concerned, Matt steps closer. Since the whole room smells of sex and sweat, the salty scent of tears would be lost to him right now. But he could swear Foggy is trembling more than the exhaustion or the temperature could explain.

Still, Matt approaches the desk to retrieve Foggy’s jacket. Gently, he puts it around Foggy and runs a hand through the disheveled hair.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, all good.”

Matt frowns. “That’s a lie.”

Foggy swallows audibly. Then he shakes his head, sniffles and tries to avert his gaze. But Matt doesn’t let him. He grabs Foggy’s face and kisses his cheekbone.

“Hey,” he says. “What’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“What? No.”

“You’re still fibbing! Shit! Was I too rough?” Matt curses himself. Has he really had a chance with Foggy and ruined it at the first opportunity he got? “Foggy, I’m so sorry! I got carried…”

“Matt! Stop that! I’m not some delicate flower! You weren’t too rough. It was fucking great, okay?”

That’s nice to hear. And usually, Matt would appreciate the little ego stroke. But right now, he is too worried.

“Okay, buddy,” he says. “Then what is it?”

“It…” Foggy hesitates. “It was great. But not… very smart, was it?”

Matt tilts his head, confused. “We used a condom,” he says.

Foggy lets out a noise between a snort and a sob.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “We did. But if something went wrong and you knocked me up, you’ll marry me.”

Still, Matt doesn’t know what’s wrong. But he can’t help laughing a little - Foggy is good at making him laugh. Again, he caresses Foggy’s hair.

“Let me woo you a bit before I propose, hm?” he says, overcome with fondness. “Date night tomorrow? If you like?”


Matt gestures towards the conference table. “I know nothing beats coffee, curry and cases,” he says. “But maybe a restaurant for a change? Or a picnic in the park? A movie if you insist, but we might get kicked out if you narrate for me.”

Foggy lets out a shaky breath. Matt’s eyes widen in surprise as Foggy falls against his chest and nods.

“Date night sounds nice,” he mumbles into Matt’s rumpled shirt. The wetness blossoming on the fabric confirms that Foggy’s been crying, but he sounds relieved and happy right now. For the moment, that’s enough for Matt.

“Alright,” Matt says. “Get dressed and then I’ll get you home, okay? We can continue with the case on Monday.”

“Home sounds good,” Foggy says as he allows Matt to help him get off the desk. He gathers his clothes and gets dressed. When he is done, he swallows shortly and then asks, “When you get me home… Will… will you stay?”

Matt's heart jumps. Relief floods him and he smiles. He approaches Foggy and starts playing with the lapels of his jacket.

“I don’t know.” He smirks. “Will you make me breakfast in the morning?”

Foggy chuckles and Matt could swear he hears his eyes roll. “Sure, buddy.”

“Then it’s settled. Come on.”

As Foggy offers his arm, Matt takes it. It’s unnecessary and at the same time it’s not. Because Matt will hold on.

This time he will hold on.

The End

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