Diversionary Tactics

Not explicit, but some mature content

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Foggy tried his best. He has bitten, scratched and even got one good punch in (he may have broken his hand). But now he is pressing himself against the wall, bruises blossoming, after Daredevil has helpfully pushed him out of the way.

It can’t be long now. Three of the assailants are already on the ground, unconscious. That’s half of them, but two of the remaining ones already look tired and close to collapse. The last one, apparently the leader, is still quite fresh. He has a few inches on Daredevil and looks pretty strong. That’s probably why he is so cocksure and smug when he grabs Daredevil from behind and tries to choke him.

“You really are mad, devil.” He laughs. “You really thought you could beat all of us.”

On Daredevil’s face forms that confident, heart-melting, brain freezing and leg weakening smirk. His hands take hold of the man’s arms that are wrapped around Daredevil’s throat.

“Still do, actually,” Daredevil says.

With that, he, in one fluid motion, squats down, lifts the guy and throws him over his shoulders, perfectly aiming for the other two, still conscious, crooks. It knocks the two out efficiently. The leader is still standing, but Daredevil pursues him, punching him hard before he could get up.

God, it shouldn’t be so hot. But watching Daredevil, well, Matt so easily fight and beat several men, so easily that he still has time to quip, is just sexy. Well, even more than Matt already is.

With all assailants incapacitated, Foggy dares moving. Groaning, he scrambles to his feet and leans against the wall that helpfully waits behind him. His eyes are closed, but he hears Daredevil approaching.

“The documents are behind the dumpster,” Foggy says. “Suitcase.”

No answer. Foggy opens his eyes. Thanks to the mask, he can’t see Matt’s eyes, but the frown is visible enough, turning Matt’s pretty mouth downwards.

“Are you alright?” Matt finally asks. “That’s what matters. Karen made a copy of the documents.”

Foggy bends down to get the suitcase. “How do you know she doesn’t have a spare Foggy lying around?” he jokes while patting the dust off of it.

The frown deepens. “That’s not funny, Foggy,” Matt says as he grabs Foggy’s arm and leads him out of the alley.

For a while, they walk in silence. But when Foggy’s apartment building appears in front of them, Matt speaks again. His voice is strained and - most likely involuntarily - his grip tightens.

“I told you to wait for me,” he says.

“You didn’t come,” Foggy gives back, a bit miffed. “I know you had to hero around, but I have a life as well, you know?”

“You’re lucky I was there on time.”

“Ah, I had it under control. Had them right where I wanted them,” Foggy jests.

“Yes,” Matt says sardonically. “They sure were impressed by the apple you threw at them.”

Foggy doesn’t ask how Matt knows it was an apple. Instead, he keeps trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, too bad there was no doctor among them,” he says as sardonically as possible.

Foggy sees Matt fighting with a smile and in the end, Matt snorts. Warmth blossoms in Foggy’s chest. He loves making Matt laugh. Being able to throw a car or climb walls would help Matt more Foggy supposes, but a chuckle now and again was something, right?

“Okay, that level of bad puns suggests you’re in shock,” Matt says. “Let’s postpone the scolding.”

Somehow that strikes a bad chord in Foggy. He doesn’t like at all that Matt treats him like that.

“Oooor,” he says sharply. “You cancel the scolding as I’m not a child who needs scolding.”


“Don’t buddy me, Murdock,” Foggy says. “You have no right to look down on me like that.”

“I don’t,” Matt says, growing irritated as well. “But you’re my best friend! I don’t want to lose you. I can’t!”

“Your best friend endangering himself?” Foggy asks sarcastically. “Gee, I wonder what that feels like.”

“Foggy,” Matt says, the strain on his patience audible. “That’s not the same and you know that. I can fight. I have super senses. You have apples! And you didn’t even hit someone with it.”

Being honest, Foggy knows Matt’s right. But he is not in the mood to be reasonable right now. And frankly, Matt is the last person who can complain about that.

“I can perfectly take care of myself,” Foggy snaps and wants to quicken his steps to leave Matt behind.

It’s all a blur from then. The world spins and Foggy spins with it. He doesn’t exactly know what is happening but at the end of it, he finds himself in the alley behind the apartment building, pressed against the wall. Somehow, Matt’s mask has disappeared and he glowers at Foggy, unfocused but no less intimidating for it.

“Can you now?” Matt asks darkly.

“What?” Foggy doesn’t follow. He feels a bit dizzy. It doesn’t help that Matt Murdock, prettiest boy of the ball, hot smartass and long time crush of his, has his wrists pinned while their bodies lay flush against each other.”

“Take perfectly care of yourself, of course,” Matt clarifies. “You know, like you claimed a few seconds ago. So… free yourself. Escape. Should be easy. I’m but one guy, not half a dozen crooks.”

Matt’s voice is serious and strict. But there is a teasing edge to it that Foggy can hear clearly. In addition, an arrogant smirk tugs on the corner of Matt’s lips as he easily holds Foggy where he wants him.

Condescended and captured by Matt, Foggy is pissed… and horny. So the logical course of action is obvious. Foggy is trapped, but he can move his head. So he surges forward and plants his mouth on Matt’s.

A muffled sound of surprise escapes Matt. His eyes go wide and his grips loosens ever so slightly. Foggy takes his chance. As hard as he can, he pushes against the really really really firm chest. His plan - aka the spur of the moment decision fueled by anger and arousal - works. He can pull his arms free and run.

Two and a half steps.

Then he’s grabbed from behind and pushed back against the cold house wall. He looks into the smug face of Matt Murdock.

“Not a bad diversion, counselor,” Matt says in a patronizing and amused tone. “Let me show you how to make it more… diversionary.”

He catches Foggy’s mouth in a kiss. It’s nothing like the desperate, clumsy thing Foggy has attempted. Matt all but pries Foggy’s lips apart and licks into his mouth. It’s wet and obscene and perfect. It seems like their lips are melting together. Matt’s tongue swirls around Foggy’s, tender but dominating while he hums in appreciation. The fingers of Matt’s right hand tangle in Foggy’s hair while the left lies against his chest with gentle but unyielding pressure.

After a while (a minute, an hour, Foggy wouldn’t know), Matt moves away. A playful smile is on his swollen, spit-slicked lips as he strokes along Foggy’s heated cheeks.

“See?” he says. “You're thoroughly distracted.”

It’s true. Foggy’s legs are shaking, he is out of breath and his thoughts are a jumbled mess.

“Matt… I…,” he stammers. “Fuck!”

Matt raises a brow. After a while, he shrugs and nods.

“I was about to suggest drinks, but that works, too.” He grabs Foggy’s suitcase and pushes it into Foggy’s hand.


“Go into your apartment and wait for the knock on your window,” Matt orders while putting back on his mask.

“Y… yeah, okay.” Foggy nods but then he remembers their argument and says, “Wait! That’s all well and good. But the discussion isn’t over.”

Matt, who was about to jump to the fire ladder, stops. After turning back around, he. determinedly, he walks to Foggy. Tilting his head, he cups Foggy’s cheek. He presses a soft kiss on Foggy’s lips and smiles.

“Oh, but it is,” he whispers. “Now, go inside.”

A moment later, he is already climbing up the ladder to Foggy’s kitchen window.

“What a jerk,” Foggy says, knowing that Matt can hear him.

But then, Foggy hurries to the building entrance because Matt is waiting for him.

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