Ever since returning from the dead, Matt had noticed his warm-fond feelings for Foggy transform into something else. No, not transform . After all, he still felt warm and fond when thinking about Foggy. But something hot and wanting had joined those feelings and sometimes pushed them aside.
Thinking back, Matt had always felt a bit possessive around Foggy. For the longest time, he told himself he was just being protective. Foggy was nice and sweet and Matt had to look out for him lest he get hurt by people, wanting to take advantage. Of course, Foggy was no idiot and could look out for himself, but still.
However, the gigantic building collapsing above him, brought some clarity into Matt’s mind. Yes, he had to go through a phase of God-, world-, and self-loathing to get there. But just as he now was able to see the good sides of being Matt Murdock, he could no longer turn a blind eye, so to speak, to Matt Murdock’s flaws and weaknesses.
Right now, his main weakness was half-naked, bound to Matt’s bed and a shivering mess. Still, Matt did not feel like winning. Control was slipping from his hands. This was not at all how this was supposed to go.
His knowledge about this way of questioning was all theoretical so he could not claim to be an expert. But Matt was sure that he should not be sweating, trembling and wishing for wider pants. It most certainly was not good that part of him wished Foggy would not surrender the information in question so Matt had a reason to keep touching him, tasting him, drawing all those pretty noises out of him.
With deft fingers Matt made quick work of unbuttoning Foggy’s shirt, giving the bare skin over to the air. The bedroom was not exactly cold, but as Matt’s hand brushed across Foggy’s upper body, he felt the peaked nipples and the gooseflesh underneath his fingertips. When Matt repositioned himself on Foggy, straddling his legs, he stroked along Foggy’s rock hard erection. He grinned at the almost pained moan and let the spike of arousal fill his nose.
When he felt Foggy’s body relax, Matt picked up where he’d left off. Again, he took hold of Foggy’s cock, a solid warm weight in his hand. He applied lazy strokes along the shaft and ever so often let his thumb twirl at the tip. Matt’s other hand wandered along Foggy’s soft thighs, more for Matt’s own benefit than to add to Foggy’s arousal.
Matt had to adjust himself after a while. It took all his self control, not to throw himself onto Foggy, kiss him senseless while frantically rubbing their bodies together. The taste of Foggy’s skin was still on Matt’s lips, his scent engulfed him and now he was underneath Matt, writhing helplessly, completely at Matt’s mercy.
Mesmerized, Matt wondered if he could make Foggy beg. So far, Foggy had whined, cursed and called Matt an asshole, but no begging. Matt wanted to hear it. He should not want it because he was not sure he would be able to deny Foggy then. Oh, Matt would draw it out, would listen to Foggy’s pleas, would feel him writhe beneath Matt’s hands. In the end, however, he would probably give Foggy what he wanted, needed, deserved. Not so much for Foggy’s sake, but for his own.
However, Foggy was very resilient. He groaned, threw his head from side to side, rolled his hips and fucked into Matt’s hand. But whenever Matt withdrew, he offered no broken ‘please’ and showed no inclination to give up the safe combination.
Oh, he offered several secrets. The location of the cookie stash in the office (Matt already knew about it), having had a crush on Brett as a teen (a surge of jealousy Matt did not need, thank you very much) and Daredevil’s identity (Matt could not help but laugh at Foggy’s secretive tone).
Matt tutted while he teased the tip of Foggy’s cock. “You’re making this very hard on yourself, Mr. Nelson,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard it was on him self as well.
Squirming, Foggy tried to find his release, prevented by Matt’s other hand, holding on firmly to the base of his cock to avoid release. He hissed out his breath and Matt was sure he heard Foggy’s teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. Again, Matt withdrew, earning himself a desperate whine.
“I can make it so so good for you,” he said. “If you tell me the combination.”
“A su… suggestion, counselor,” Foggy panted. “A bargain, if you will.”
Matt chuckled. His fingers drew lazy circles on Foggy’s plush stomach.
“Bound, helpless and desperate,” he said smugly. “You’re not in the best bargaining position.”
“Well, it’s more of a wager, actually. Hear me out. What do you have to lose?” Foggy asked, way too coherent for Matt’s ego.
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
“You just keep going and maybe I break and tell you the combination,” Foggy said. “But if I don’t until… let’s say daybreak, you let Karen and me handle this case. Only this case.”
“And if you do break?”
“I’ll give you the combination and will never again complain about your night job.”
Interested, Matt raised a brow. “Never again?”
“I will sigh and cast disapproving glances you sure as Hell will feel, but I won’t say a word.”
With furrowed brows, Matt considered the wager. Warily, he asked, “Where’s the catch? It seems I have way more to win than you and way less to lose here.”
Foggy shrugged. “As you said, I’m not in a great position.”
“Oh, I quite like your position,” Matt grinned. “But I see what you mean. Alright, deal. But now I’m really motivated.”
Matt grinned when he heard Foggy swallow. Now that he had time until sunrise, Matt would make good use of it. Instead of going for Foggy’s sex, Matt started at his head. It was a little wistful that he ran through the short hair as he missed the way it used to whisper whenever Foggy turned his head. But it was still soft and now Matt was free to grab and pull and the noises Foggy made encouraged him to do so.
“You like a strong hand, don’t you?” he teased.
“Fuck, Murdock, I hate you,” Foggy whined as Matt’s fingers let go of the strands to slide along the slope between shoulder and neck.
“You really don’t,” Matt said and bent down to press a soft kiss to Foggy’s neck.
“I really don’t,” Foggy whispered, mood shifting.
Swallowing, Matt returned to his journey along Foggy’s body. Reverently, he caressed the broad chest and the curve of Foggy’s belly. Sometimes he would lower his head to kiss or nip at the soft flesh. With a grin he tweaked both nipples between his fingers, chuckling at the cute yelp. He kissed a trail of adoration from Foggy’s stomach down to his crotch, making sure not to touch the cock. Meanwhile, his hands glided along Foggy’s side, nails digging into the soft hips.
Losing himself in the smell, the taste and the sounds, Matt simply enjoyed the freedom to touch Foggy. He was not sure how much time had passed when he realised that he had not asked for the combination for quite a while. Feeling his cheeks heat up, he cleared his throat, hoping his loss of control was not too obvious.
“So, Mr. Nelson…” he began, but Foggy interrupted.
“Right, things you don’t know yet,” Foggy said, breathing heavily. “I felt extremely guilty when you were assumed dead.”
Matt felt like bathed in cold water. His arousal faded and his stomach dropped. Frowning, he sighed.
“I knew that, too, Foggy,” he said softly. “But like Claire, Karen and myself told you, I would have gotten to the suit eventually. Yes, it felt good to have you on my side, but I would have gone to…”
“Oh, not for sending you to Midland Circle with your suit.” Foggy shook his head.
“Oh?” Matt was still struggling with the sudden change of atmosphere so found nothing smart to say.
“When Danny told me how you went to your death so willingly…,” Foggy swallowed audibly, “... I couldn’t help thinking what a shitty friend I’ve been.”
Matt sucked in a sharp breath, unable to find the words to express his indignation at the mere thought that Foggy Nelson could be anything but a perfect friend.
Foggy giggled a bit, but when he spoke, it was not laughter that shook his voice. “You… you remember in law school when we’d go out each Friday night?”
Matt nodded, though unsure if Foggy even looked at him right now.
“I always joked that we follow the ‘Call of the Night’,” Foggy chuckled, but it sounded broken and sad. “I did not know back then that the night called out to you so differently than to me. That while she promised me booze, music and maybe a flirt, she cried out to you for help.”
“You couldn’t know, Foggy.” Their erections were deflating but still both their bodies shuddered as they brushed when Matt crawled up to cup Foggy’s cheek. With trembling lips, Matt repeated, “You couldn’t know.”
“Could I not?” Foggy asked. “You were my best friend. We spent class, free time and even holidays together. How could I not see?”
“Foggy…”
“I can’t get it out of my head, you know?” Foggy said. “When I remember us in the summer, lying in the warm grass, drunk already but still drinking, laughing about our own stupid jokes…,” Foggy’s voice broke and now he was sobbing, “...overgrown children, the both of us…”
“I remember, too, Foggy,” Matt said, desperate, frantic, ensouled only by the urge to make Foggy stop crying. “These are some of my happiest memories. Most of my happiest memories have you in them.”
“But it was there already, wasn’t it?” Foggy asked. “In those warm, innocent, silly, carefree summer nights. When I thought it was just the two of us and our silly dreams and the stars. That… that darkness was lingering already. It was inside you, festering, lurking, growing, waiting to come to full bloom and consume you. And I. Did. Not. See. It.”
The salty taste of Foggy’s tears filled the air. Helpless, Matt could only hold on to him because he was too shocked to form any coherent sentence for comfort.
“I can’t help wondering,” Foggy continued. “Was there at some point a chance for me to help you? Do something about it? Was there a crossroad at which I picked the wrong path? Was there anything I could have done or said that would have led to a different outcome?”
“Foggy, please…” Now it was Matt who was begging, but to no avail.
“You were gone, Matt,” Foggy said, crying subsiding, making room for eerie calmness. “Because you left, not because you were ripped away. You chose to leave. Leave life behind. Leave me behind. I failed you. And apparently I’m doing so again.”
“What are you talking about?” Matt grabbed Foggy’s shoulder and shook him. “You did not fail me! Never!”
“Really?” Foggy asked. “I have no idea what you still saw in Elektra. But whatever it was, she gave you more reason to die than I could give you to live. And after you were back, I swore to myself that it would not happen again. That this time I’d be smarter. That this time I’d be a better friend. That this time I’d be enough. But here you are again, just waiting for a chance to get yourself killed. I’m still not enough.”
“Shit, Foggy!” Snapping out of his shocked daze, Matt hurried to remove the handcuffs. When Foggy was free, Matt grabbed him and gathered his friend in his arms. At first, Foggy lay slack in the tight embrace but after a while, he returned it and buried his face in Matt’s neck. He was not crying anymore but the shivering breath told Matt that this took some effort.
“Why am I not enough, Matty?” Foggy whispered. “What… what am I doing wrong?”
There was a smart reaction to this. Nothing about what Foggy did or who he was, was wrong. Foggy was perfect. Foggy was everything. Foggy was at the heart of everything Matt held dear. It would be very simple to just tell Foggy that.
So of course, Matt did not. Instead, he grabbed Foggy’s hair once more to tilt his head back. Foggy’s surprised gasp told Matt exactly where his mouth was and Matt charged. He slotted their lips together and pulled Foggy’s body against his.
What was talking good for, anyway?