Matt might appear calm to a casual observer. But his heart thunders, the breath he draws in through his nose is sharp and his whole form is as taut as a bow string just before the fatal shot is fired.
Unacceptable. He’s come close to losing Foggy today and that is unacceptable. Matt’s common sense tells him it is not his fault since it was a random attack, a mere coincidence that Foggy has been at Landman & Zack exactly at this time. A nutjob shooter targeted the place and killed several people. It was not Foggy’s connection to Matt or Daredevil that endangered him. But if not for Luke, Jess and Danny, Matt would now probably enter a morgue to see Foggy. It’s thanks to people that are not Matt, that he walks into a hospital instead. Unacceptable.
Over the speaker, a woman notifies a doctor. An orchestra of footsteps plays in the corridors, some leisurely, some hurried, none panicked. The smell of disinfectant fills the air, sharp but not overwhelmingly so, reassuring even. All hearts around beat at a normal rate, no voice sounds overly strained, nobody is short of breath. Nobody is upset.
Except for Matt.
As fast as his charade as a man who needs a cane allows, he walks down the corridor. Among hushed words, laughter and medical talk, he finally makes out a familiar voice, answered by two others he knows. Immediately, Matt seeks them out.
“Luke, Jess, Danny!” he says. “How…”
“He is okay,” Jess says quickly. “A sprained ankle and he is a bit shaken.”
“Understandably so.” Danny pats Matt’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”
“Which means,” Luke says firmly, “there is no need to beat yourself up.”
Matt’s face falls at that.
“I should have been there.”
“How Matt?” Jess asks. “You can’t be in two places at once. And you can’t know everything in advance.”
“Plus,” Danny says. “We were there and handled it.”
A small smile forms on Matt’s face. He runs a hand through his hair before nodding.
“Yes,” he says. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Well, you don’t have to, Matt,” Luke says genuinely.
“Yes, Foggy is our friend, too,” Danny says.
“What they said.” Jess pushes herself off the wall she’s been leaning against. “How about you go in and check on him? Luke can have an eye on Hell’s Kitchen tonight and Danny can tail this guy you’ve been chasing.”
“And what do you do?” Luke asks.
“I will carefully patrol the bottom shelf of my favorite wine and spirits store,” Jess grins.
“We should further discuss this,” Luke says, fondness and exasperation mixing in his voice. “But you should definitely go and see Foggy, Matt.”
“I will,” Matt says. “Thanks guys.”
The other Defenders bid their goodbyes. Matt is left in front of the hospital room while their bickering voices recede and bit by bit merge with the overall chatter and clatter around. Matt focuses on the heartbeat behind the door. Listening to it, reveling in it, celebrating it. Thanking God it is still there.
Matt swallows. Guilt makes it hard to lift his hand and knock. Rationally, Luke is right, but it’s not that rationality is a speciality of Matt Murdock’s. Having Foggy get hurt, however minor the injury may be, by a criminal feels like a personal failure.
Sighing, Matt finally knocks. A familiar voice tells him to enter and so he does. Behind the door lies a room that, judging by the size, is for two patients. But only one bed is occupied. By Foggy. Because Matt couldn’t… no, not now.
Foggy’s breath is even. His heart however is hammering inside his chest. Frowning, Matt wonders if nobody has given Foggy anything to calm down after the shock. Equally confusing is that Foggy, as far as Matt can tell, turns away from him. As soon as Matt steps in, he hears Foggy’s hair brush over the pillow and his shoulder with the movement.
Maybe it means nothing. So Matt approaches the bed.
“Hey, buddy,” he says softly. “How are you?”
“Good… erm, fine,... okay,” Foggy stammers.
Silence falls. It’s not companionable and it’s not awkward. It’s just heavy.
“Foggy, I’m sorry,” Matt finally says. “I…”
“Don’t!” Foggy says. “It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe not. But I feel like I should…”
“Well, you can’t change it. It’s okay, Matty.”
It does not appear okay to Matt. And Foggy seems to agree, despite his words. He is subdued, quiet, very much not Foggy. The following dialogue between the two friends is sluggish, meaningless smalltalk dragging onward without any real interest on Foggy’s part. He is tight-lipped, his answers short.
So it’s a merciful death blow to their conversation when Foggy says, “I’m sorry, Matt, but I’m tired. Doc says I just need to stay one night to be safe. I should be in the office after lunch tomorrow.”
“You should take the day off, maybe longer,” Matt says, concerned for Foggy’s health.
“I will if the doctor tells me to,” Foggy says with a nod. “But if he doesn’t, I think going back to normal soon would be best.”
“Alright.” Matt nods. “Good night, Foggy.”
“Night, Matt.”
Back in the corridor, Matt’s thoughts are racing. Does Foggy blame Matt? For letting so many people die today? For letting Foggy get so close to dying? Maybe he feels let down. Matt certainly feels like he let him down. What good was a hero who almost lets his best friend be shot? What use is Daredevil if he can’t protect the one he cares about most?
Sighing, Matt acknowledges that all he can do is wait. Maybe after a good night’s sleep Foggy will feel better. And maybe Matt will, too.
*
As promised, Foggy returns to the office around noon the next day. After a tearful hug from Karen and assurances that he is fine, Foggy greets Matt with a short “Hi, Matt” before disappearing into his office.
The rest of the day is torturous. Foggy avoids Matt. Still, Matt is hyper aware of everything Foggy does. Barely able to focus on his own work, Matt knows exactly what is happening in Foggy’s office. Every movement of his chair, every creak of the wooden floor, the rustling of paper and each little word Foggy murmurs to himself. Of course, Matt should not listen. Foggy doesn’t like it, but Matt can’t help it. Not today. Today, he must listen, assure himself that Foggy is right there and - physically - unharmed.
Matt overhears Foggy telling Karen about the shooting. How he sprained his ankle running into one of the offices. How he thought the shooter was entering, but it was Jess who was looking for survivors while Luke and Danny disarmed the culprit. How Brett gently questioned him before he was taken to the hospital. And, of course, how Foggy is absolutely fine. The last one is a lie.
In the evening, Karen has already gone home, Foggy prepares to leave. Now Matt can’t hold back anymore. He enters Foggy’s office.
“Let me accompany you home,” he says. It’s not an offer, it’s a demand, but Foggy doesn’t seem to get that.
“Thanks, Matt,” he says, back turned to Matt. “But I’m a big boy. I can go home alone.”
“Please, Foggy,” Matt says. “Don’t be like that. Let me… For my sake, alright?”
When Foggy whirls around quickly as if to yell at Matt. But something in Matt’s face must take the vigor out of him because instead he sighs.
“Alright,” he says. “But I won’t have you babysit me forever. Just today.”
“Okay,” Matt lies, fully intending on protecting Foggy until the end of time.
The way to Foggy’s apartment building is not long. But it feels that way because it’s still awkward between them. Foggy is tense, his heart beats fast and he does not look at Matt once. Each conversation is started by Matt and dies quickly.
Vainly, Matt hopes for an invitation. That maybe Foggy offers tea, coffee or a beer. Just a tiny little thing done by best friends. But Foggy doesn’t. He claims to be tired and bids Matt a good night. However, he turns one last time.
“Matt?”
“Yes?” Matt says, a little too fast.
“You don’t plan on sitting on my roof tonight, do you?”
“Of course not,” says Matt who absolutely plans on sitting on Foggy’s roof tonight.
“Good,” Foggy says. “Because… well, don’t.”
“Alright.” Matt pauses. “Foggy, I…”
“Please, Matt. Don’t. I just need some time, okay?”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night, Matt.”
*
It’s too early to sleep. Not that Foggy could sleep even if it was past midnight. He is alive. Others are not. But to his great shame that is not his deepest concern right now. As it often is, it’s Matt he thinks about.
Everything is different now. Forever. No take-backs.
Foggy doesn’t necessarily regret doing it. After all, he thought he was going to die. He had to assume it was his last chance. That of course doesn’t make it any easier now to deal with the aftermath.
Poor Matt. It’s not his fault and yet he has to bear the consequences as well. Matt feels bad, that much is obvious. And right now, Foggy can’t do much to change that.
*
The fire escape is not the roof and Matt is a lawyer after all. So Matt sits there to keep guard.
The city slowly drifts into the night - not to sleep, she never does - and strikes up her evening serenade. Streetlights hum, doors open and close, glasses clink and people talk. Goodnight wishes, calls for a taxi,invitations for a nightcap, laughter and song reach Matt’s ear.
But tonight they are just background noise. Matt focuses on the sounds from the apartment behind the wall, especially the steady heartbeat.
Foggy is not sleeping. That comes to no surprise but worries Matt. After what happened, Foggy needs rest. However, it is understandable that he is scared and too nervous to fall asleep. Maybe company would do him good. But, apparently, Matt is not the company he wants.
This hurts. It always does when Matt fails Foggy. The quiet sighs of disappointment that sometimes escape Foggy thunder louder in Matt’s ear than a shooting at the docks.
Something draws Matt’s attention away from Foggy. There is someone on the building, too big and too noisy for a cat. The roof access door rattles. Whoever it is, wants to break in.
As fast as stealth allows, Matt climbs up. Elegantly, he jumps across the rim and lands on the roof. Nobody is trying to open the door anymore, but there is a heart beating nearby. Calm and… familiar.
“Sorry, for making so much noise,” says a woman’s voice. “But I was too lazy to look for you and knew you’d be somewhere around and come as soon as you hear something suspicious.”
“Jess,” Matt sighs. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, obviously.” Jess approaches him and presses a phone into his hands. “Danny found it in the garden of your suspect. Sloppy, Murdock.”
“I… I didn’t even notice I lost it. Thanks.”
“A lawyer who doesn’t miss his phone for a whole day?” Jess asks with a grin in her voice. “Business that bad, huh?”
“We’re doing fine, thank you.” Matt smiles back at her. “I have a private phone and a business phone.”
“A guy who doesn’t miss his private phone for a whole day?” she asks. “Love life that bad, huh?”
“Funny,” Matt says drily. “Thank Danny from me.”
“Hey, I climbed up here to give it back. You should thank me .”
“Thanks, Jess,” Matt says obediently.
“You’re welcome,” she says with exaggerated generosity. Then she turns serious, “Foggy okay?”
“He isn’t injured,” Matt says. “But I think he is mad at me.”
Jess groans. “That is all in your head, Matt. There is no reason to blame you for that. And unlike you, Foggy is a reasonable person.”
“Something… something is wrong.”
“What is wrong is that you sit outside like a weirdo creep stalker instead of being inside with him.”
“He doesn’t want me around.”
“Did he say that?”
“Sort of.”
“Did he mean it?”
“I…”
“Ugh… whatever, Murdock,” Jess says. “One day, I’m gonna punch some sense into the two of you, but I have a job tonight. See you.”
“Bye, Jess.”
Matt goes back to his position at Foggy’s window. So far Foggy hasn’t noticed. Good, Matt is not in his Daredevil suit, making it hard to claim he was on patrol.
Sighing, Matt takes the phone in hand. It’s turned off so the battery should be fine. Matt switches it on and is told that he has one message from Foggy.
Matt’s heart skips a beat. Maybe Foggy is missing him after all and wants him to come. But when the automatic voice tells him time and date, Matt freezes. The message was left while Foggy was in the shooting at L&Z.
Swallowing hard, Matt plays the recording and has to stifle a sob when he hears the fear in Foggy’s tone.
“Hey Matty,” Foggy’s voice whispers. “ I think I’m gonna die. And not in an over-dramatic ‘oh, I ate so many spring rolls, I’m gonna die’ way but actually die. I’m at L&Z and here is this guy with a gun. A big one. He is screaming that the people here are demons or something. Easy mistake to make, heh! He… he shot the woman at the reception, Matt,” Foggy cries softly, “and he isn’t even wearing a mask. I don’t think he plans on letting anyone walk or getting out alive himself. I’m hiding in our old office - well ‘office’ with big quotation marks -, but he is getting closer. It’s only a matter of time until he finds me.”
A deep breath sounds, before Foggy continues, “I’m not calling you for help. I know you're out of Hell’s Kitchen right now. But I need to tell you some things. One, don’t blame yourself, okay? Just… don’t. Daredevil… you can’t be everywhere at all times. Two, I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time when it came to Daredevil stuff. I should’ve been more understanding. Don’t get me wrong, I still think you are an idiot sometimes, but I should’ve tried harder to understand why you are being an idiot. Three, take care of yourself when I’m gone. Please talk to people, ask for help when you need it and be honest to yourself when you need it. Four,...”
Foggy hesitates and Matt hears him swallow hard. Holding the phone in a shaky hand, Matt feels hot tears rising. Foggy, this Foggy from yesterday afternoon, thought he would be dying and spent what he expected to be his last minutes, worrying about Matt.
“Four,” Foggy’s recorded voice repeats. “I love you. Not… as my best friend. Well, that, too of course. But I’m also in love with you. For a while. A long while, on and off. No, never really off, but sometimes dimmed, I guess,” Foggy chuckles, but it transforms into a sob, “and I’m actually not sorry for never telling you before because it would’ve messed us up. Probably more than Daredevil did. But now I’m telling you…,” Foggy is fully crying now, “...so you know that you are lovable. It’s actually pretty easy to love you, you know? I think you, more than most, need to remember that. You deserve to be loved. Okay? I know, because I do! And I’m very smart. Most of the time.” A beat of silence. “Someone’s coming. Must be him. I… Goodbye, Matty. I love you.”
Matt’s grip on the phone is so hard that his fingers begin to hurt. After long minutes, he lets his hand sink and puts his mobile into his jacket. At last, he knows what to do.
*
The night program doesn’t get any better and Foggy is still determined to go to work tomorrow. So he grabs the remote and switches the TV off. He’ll give the bed another chance. Maybe by now, his body is tired enough. Maybe exhaustion will best anxiety.
Foggy has just swung his legs off the sofa, when a knock startles him. It’s loud and firm. Frozen in his spot, Foggy stares at the door. A visitor at this time of night is rarely good news. But who is it?
“Foggy!” The familiar voice answers the question.
Fear makes room for relief. Relief becomes annoyance. Granted, Foggy has only told Matt he needs some time. But even without further clarification it should be obvious that meant more than a few hours.
“Foggy!” Matt calls again. “Let me in or I swear I’ll break down the door.”
With most people Foggy knew, he’d assume the threat to be an empty one. Matt is not most people. Huffing, Foggy gets up and walks to the door. Fueled by anger, he pulls it open.
He wants to shout out an annoyed “What?”, but before he can, he is pressed against the wall and has Matt’s tongue down his throat.
It’s the wettest and sloppiest kiss Foggy ever experienced. It’s also the best, because… well, it’s Matt. Embarrassingly fast, Foggy’s anger fades away and he all but melts against Matt. Vaguely, he is aware of the door falling shut, but mostly he is aware of Matt. Soft lips are on his mouth and an eager tongue inside, five dexterous fingers tangle in his hair, one hand lies tenderly against his throat and a very well-trained body holds his own in place.
Finally, Matt moves away for breath. “I didn’t know,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Huh?” Foggy says intelligently through the fog around his mind.
“The message, your message,” Matt mumbles while he keeps nipping at Foggy’s lips. “I lost my phone. Got it back tonight.”
“Wait.” Foggy puts his palm against Matt’s chest to make some room, but Matt doesn’t budge. So Foggy speaks against his lips. “You hadn’t heard my message when you came to the hospital?”
“No.” Matt keeps kissing him and it’s very distracting.
“But… but… what were you apologizing for then?” Foggy asks. “What were you sorry for?”
“For… for not being there,” Matt replies. “For leaving you alone in that situation.”
“Well, that’s just stupid,” Foggy says, but then he sighs, “Guess I should have known you’d think that then.”
Matt presses their foreheads together and they laugh. Softly, Matt brushes his nose against Foggy’s. “Yeah, maybe,” he chuckles.
A second later, they are kissing again. But then, when all the fear and pain of the last day falls off of Foggy, he all but collapses in Matt’s arm. Barely, he fights the tears back down as he shakes in Matt’s hold.
“It was so horrible,” Foggy whispers. “The screams and shots, followed by the silence, then screaming and shots again. I thought that was it. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Matt presses them closer together. “Oh, sweetheart.” He places a soft kiss on Foggy’s hair. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
“Matty, please, I need you.”
Foggy has barely finished these words, when the dam that is Matt Murdock’s self control breaks. Matt’s lips are back, not as rough as before but no less powerful. He pulls Foggy off the wall and - with his eerie sense of space and direction - steers them both towards Foggy’s sofa - never once breaking the kiss.
Incredibly gently, Matt lowers Foggy to the couch. Inwardly, Foggy swoons at the tenderness, feeling safer than he hoped to feel again only a few minutes ago. Matt lays him down. Braced on his forearm, he follows, covering Foggy’s body with his own.
Sighing, Foggy holds on to Matt while they kiss. Leisurely, their lips slide against each other, deliberately drawing out each motion of their tongues.
Meanwhile, Matt’s hands find their way under Foggy’s pajama shirt. Almost like in worship, he runs his fingers across Foggy’s sides and the soft pudge of his belly. Maybe Foggy would be self-conscious about this, but it is impossible with the soft hums of appreciation and arousal vibrating in Matt’s throat.
Following Matt's lead, Foggy tries to divest Matt of clothes as well. It’s a bit trickier since Matt is still in his suit, but Foggy won’t be stopped by some buttons now. Bit by bit, the fabric between them disappears, forming a messy pile on the living room floor. When they’re both finally down to their boxers, Matt smiles and sits up.
Now Foggy can fully appreciate Matt’s muscled and well-trained form. Self-indulgently slow, Foggy lets his hands wander over the toned torso and through the soft dust of dark hair on Matt’s chest. He thumbs along a peaked nipple, earning himself a little surprised hiss.
Matt’s hands still roam Foggy’s upper body as well, the fingertips now and again digging into the soft flesh. It’s on the right side of painful and Foggy shivers at every touch. Still straddling Foggy, Matt takes him via skin contact, in a way his eyes never could.
“You’re so beautiful,” Matt says reverently.
His face is pure awe. He sounds so genuine that Foggy can’t even begin to doubt his words. Thanks to their position, Foggy can see the impressive erection, straining against Matt’s underwear.
“You certainly seem to like me.” Foggy grins with mischief and lets his hand glide down, ever so slightly sweeping over the bulge.
Matt groans. His hands all but fly to the waistband of Foggy’s boxers.
“Off!” Matt demands, only to add sheepishly, “Please?”
Chuckling, Foggy puts his hands on his underwear. “Don’t stop being bossy on my behalf,” he says. “It’s hot.”
A cute blush colors Matt’s cheeks. But he schools his face into an expression of confidence and tilts his head.
“Well, then,” he says. “What are you waiting for?”
“Mainly for you to lift your butt so I can lift mine.”
“Oh, right.” Laughing, Matt pushes himself up a little so Foggy can remove his boxers. He pulls them down to his knees which apparently is enough for Matt. Matt does the same, freeing his own cock. Thick and long, it curves upwards, fully hard already, a pearl of precum gathering at the flushed tip.
Before Foggy can react, Matt’s lips are on his. Like before, he is careful and tender, but he dominates the kiss, deepening it with every lash of his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands won’t stop exploring, alternating between applying light ghostly touches and grabbing harsh enough to leave marks. Foggy allows himself to be swept away. He links his hands at the back of Matt’s neck and follows the rhythm.
Foggy gasps when clever fingers suddenly curl around his cock. Surprised, he moans and throws his head back, effectively breaking the kiss. Matt chuckles and, torturously slow, begins to move his hand along Foggy’s shaft.
“Matty,” Foggy whispers.
“I’m here,” Matt says once more.
And then his erection is pressing against Foggy’s. He rolls his hips and their cocks brush against each other- At first, the slide is a bit rough, but Matt runs his thumb along the heads, spreading the precum to ease the movement.
It starts off lazy. In deliberate, slow motions Matt moves against Foggy while claiming his mouth again. But soon the pace increases, Matt’s hips losing the steady rhythm. The kiss gets rougher and filthier, Matt’s free hand finds Foggy’s hair and pulls. And the sounds! The noises escaping Matt are all but animalistic and it does things to Foggy.
They are rutting against each other like horny teenagers. But Foggy does not care. He is here, in the moment, with Matt and as far as he's concerned, time could stop now.
Matt’s mouth travels from Foggy’s to kiss his throat. While he applies careful licks and nips against Foggy’s pulse point, Matt tightens his hold on Foggy’s hair. His movements become frantic and Foggy can feel Matt’s cock pulsating against his own.
A sharp but sweet pain makes Foggy scream. Matt’s teeth dig into the meat of Foggy’s shoulders and Matt basically roars . Wetness blossoms between them as Matt’s semen hits Foggy’s stomach. Matt’s want is a tidal wave that rips Foggy with it. With Matt’s name on his lips, Foggy follows him over the edge.
For a long moment, they just lie there. Foggy’s hand runs through Matt’s hair, Matt’s face is still buried in the slope of Foggy’s neck. They cling to each other, catching their breath and sorting their thoughts. Finally, Matt lifts his head to press a short kiss against Foggy’s nose. With a guilty expression, he touches the teeth mark he left on Foggy’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “Was I too rough?”
“Nah,” Foggy says, smiling. “Just rough enough.”
Matt chuckles. “Good to know.”
“You’ll have to be a bit more careful with my ass though when you ever fuck me,” Foggy hurries to say.
A surprised expression takes over Matt’s features. “You’d let me?” he asks, astonishment in his voice and written all over his face.
“Erm… yes?” Foggy says.
Matt’s exhaustion seems to disappear at once. He jumps up from the couch and reaches out to Foggy. “What are we waiting for then?” he asks.
“Um… now?” Foggy is confused, but he takes the offered hand.
“No time like the present.” Grinning, Matt pulls Foggy to his feet. “Lead the way.”
*
Foggy’s body is like a beacon of heat. Right now, he is rummaging through his nightstand to find lube. His scent, mingling with Matt’s own and the heavy smell of sweat and semen, drive Matt to the brink of madness.
But Matt can be patient. For Foggy he can do anything and he will.
When Foggy finally announces “tada”, pulling a bottle from the drawer, Matt joins him on the bed. Matt puts his hands on Foggy’s knees, gently pushing them apart. He wiggles between the thick thighs to drape himself possessively over Foggy.
The twitch of Foggy’s hips tells him Foggy is just as eager as Matt himself. But Matt can’t resist taking the chance to explore again. Part of Matt still could not believe that this was his to have now. To touch the generous body, to be skin on skin, to inhale the familiar and beloved smell from up close.
When Matt finally sits up, Foggy immediately uncaps the lube bottle. Matt snatches it.
“Let me,” he says.
Taking his time, Matt thoroughly prepares Foggy. With lubed fingers he enters his lover, carefully stretching him. Experimentally, he circles against the tights walls, crooking his fingers in search of Foggy’s sweet spot. As Foggy groans and arches his back, Matt knows he found it.
“Matty, please,” Foggy whines. “Hurry!”
Smiling in self-satisfaction, Matt keeps up his ministrations. For a long while, he ignores Foggy’s pleas of “Matty, please”, his guarantees that “of course, I’m fucking ready, Murdock” and the threats that “I will kill you if you don’t fuck me now, Matt!”. Only when Foggy is no longer forming coherent sentences, Matt has mercy on him. After all, he doesn’t want to wait anymore either.
Braced on lightly shaking arms, Matt lines his cock up with Foggy’s entrance. With a long drawn out moan, he pushes in. As he goes deeper, inch for inch, it comes crashing down on him how lucky he is.
He did not lose Foggy, neither to a shooter nor to his own stupidity. Not only is Foggy not mad or disappointed in him, not only does Foggy still consider him his best friend. No, Foggy also loves him… Foggy loves him.
“Shit,” Matt breathes out.
“Something wrong?” Foggy asks.
“I didn’t tell you.”
“Erm… what?”
“I didn’t tell you,” Matt repeats and bends down to kiss Foggy.
Foggy giggles breathlessly against Matt’s mouth. “What exactly, you weirdo?”
Matt lifts his head. “That I love you, too,” he says.
Foggy hums, understanding. “Ah that. I kinda figured by now.”
“Good.” Matt lets out a relieved sigh.
“Fuck me now?”
Laughing, Matt nods. “Oh, I will.”
He sets a slow pace. While he can’t see Foggy, he can feel his body reacting, the hitch of breath during some motions, the way he sways into some touches and shies away from others, how he moans and sighs and pants for Matt. Bit by bit, Matt figures him out.
Focusing on Foggy makes it a bit easier for Matt to control his own arousal. He teethers on the edge. But he can stay there for a moment longer, keep the familiar heat pooling inside him at bay. He feels the warm silken walls flutter around his cock, feels the soft body underneath him shiver, feels Foggy coming closer.
“Matty.” Foggy tenses, goes taut and cries out.
His spent mingles between their bodies. Matt fucks Foggy through it, holding him, whispering praises and applying kisses until Foggy falls back limply. Melting into the mattress, Foggy sighs in contentment.
“Foggy,” Matt moans. “Can I…”
Instead of answering, Foggy wraps his legs around Matt, feet locking above the small of Matt’s back. An encouraging roll of Foggy’s hips is all Matt needs. Groaning, Matt picks up speed, chasing his own pleasure now. Pliant and soft underneath him is Foggy, kisses his shoulder and tells him he loves him.
The climax hits Matt forcefully. He snaps his hips against Foggy’s ass and shouts out his pleasure. After riding out his orgasm, he simply collapses on top of Foggy. With his last ounce of coherent thought, he has the idea of turning them to their sides so he won’t crush Foggy.
Foggy hums, satisfied, as Matt pulls him close. Together they manage to pull the blanket over their tangled bodies.
“I love you,” Matt says.
“Love you, too, Matty.”
“I’ll never leave you alone again,” Matt says after a while, fingers lazily drawing circles on Foggy’s back. “I’ll always protect you.”
Foggy laughs. “You can’t observe me 24/7, Murdock.”
“Watch me,” Matt mumbles against Foggy’s hair. “Watch me.”