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Foggy walks into their dorm, shuts the door behind him, and sighs dramatically.
“I’m going to die alone, Matt,” he says.
“I doubt that,” Matt murmurs, because if anyone’s going to die alone, it’s him, and because Foggy—Foggy’s never had a problem finding people who want him around. Foggy walks across the room to crawl onto Matt’s bed and sit next to him, fitting himself up against Matt’s side.
“I’m going to die alone,” Foggy repeats, pointedly. “Comfort me.”
Matt smiles and tries to look put-upon, rolling his eyes as he shifts to wrap an arm around Foggy.
“Why are you going to die alone?” Matt asks.
“Marci doesn’t want to go on what I assure you would be a very romantic date because she says I kiss with too much tongue,” Foggy says, mournfully. “That is the problem of a high schooler.”
“You were in high school less than a year ago,” Matt says.
“I’m a man now,” Foggy says, resting his head on Matt’s shoulder. “A man who is going to die alone because he can’t even kiss.”
“You know,” Matt says, tipping his head to rest it against Foggy’s. “Instead of accepting your eternal solitude, you could just practice.”
“I won’t subject another person to the horror that is my mouth,” Foggy says, darkly, “and I will not kiss a pillow, buddy, because—been there, done that, and the remaining scraps of my dignity wouldn’t survive it.”
Matt has an idea. He has an idea that he knows he shouldn’t say out loud, because Foggy’s okay with hugging him and cuddling and maybe sometimes holding hands when they’re drunk and it suddenly seems very urgent that hands are held, but—this is different.
“You could kiss me,” Matt says, very casually, because he is an idiot.
Foggy’s quiet for a long moment.
“You’re a good friend, Matthew Murdock,” he says, very carefully, “but I don’t want to drool on you and drive you away.”
“You won’t,” Matt says, maybe too vehemently, “and—I’m pretty sure that I’m an okay kisser. I can help you figure out what you’re doing wrong.”
This is weird. This is weird, and Foggy is going to say no, and Matt is going to transfer to a school in Alaska where he can bury himself in the snow and never make another friend ever again.
“Okay,” Foggy says, letting out a long breath, heart ramping up. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”
He moves out from under Matt’s arm, hesitating for a moment before he’s moving to sit cross-legged in front of Matt.
“Promise you won’t abandon me if I’m so terrible that I ruin kissing for you for the rest of your life?” Foggy asks.
“Promise,” Matt says, smiling.
“Pinky promise?” Foggy asks, and Matt smiles, shaking his head before he raises his hand and extends his pinky so Foggy can loop his around it. That’s the only place they’re touching until opens up his hand to lace their fingers together instead, squeezing cautiously.
“Who goes first?” he asks.
“Count of three?” Foggy asks, shifting a little closer so their knees touch, too.
“Okay,” Matt agrees, nodding. On one, they both lean in.
On two, he can feel Foggy’s breath against his mouth, and he wonders if Foggy’s eyes are closed.
On three, their noses hit together before Foggy laughs and turns his head, catching Matt’s mouth in a soft kiss. They linger close, lips barely touching, before Matt says, “I’m gonna need a little more than this if you want my opinion.”
“Right,” Foggy whispers, pushing into another kiss, his fingers sliding into Matt’s hair, and Matt echoes the movement as he opens his mouth underneath Foggy’s. He licks into Foggy’s mouth when Foggy doesn’t do it first, huffing out a laugh when Foggy responds a little too enthusiastically.
“Take it slower,” he says, stroking Foggy’s hair and moving in to kiss him again before Foggy can reply. It’s clumsy and a little too wet at first, but Matt’s still having to hold himself back, thinking dizzily about climbing on top of Foggy and rubbing off against him. They’re leaning at an angle so their bodies aren’t even touching, and Matt aches for it.
“Do you hate me yet?” Foggy asks, when they break apart.
“No, definitely not,” Matt says, breathlessly. “Do you—uh—want to try it lying down?”
“Yeah, sure,” Foggy says, automatically. “Gotta cover all our bases.”
“Right,” Matt says. “You could—be on top of me, if you wanted?”
“Yeah,” Foggy breathes. “Okay.”
Matt shifts backwards to lie down on his back, shutting his eyes until Foggy climbs on top of him, when he opens them and smiles in a way that he hopes is comforting. Foggy’s heart is doing somersaults, and Matt wants to get close enough to feel it against his chest.
“Come down here,” Matt says, reaching up to touch Foggy’s cheek.
Foggy bends down immediately to press a kiss to Matt’s cheek, sliding his lips over to kiss him softly on the mouth before tentatively touching their tongues together again. Matt pushes up into it, kissing him back carefully, making soft noises into Foggy’s mouth.
“Yeah, good,” he murmurs, “Just like that.”
Foggy moans, kissing him harder before he suddenly breaks it, resting his forehead against Matt’s.
“Matt,” he says. “Matty.”
“Yeah?” Matt asks, tipping up to kiss him one more time. Foggy breathes hot against his mouth for a few moments before he laughs, a little burst of air before he’s sitting up again.
“Any notes?” he asks, too cheerfully.
“Oh,” Matt says. “No, no—you’re a fast learner. Marci should give you a second chance.”
Foggy nods.
“I just nodded,” he says, slowly climbing off of Matt and moving so he’s standing next to the bed. Matt sits up and pulls his sheets into his lap, because he maybe shouldn’t be advertising exactly how much he’s into what just happened.
“Just—take your time and, you know, do your best,” Matt says, then cringes. Do your best.
“Will do!” Foggy says. “Thanks for the help. I think I’m gonna take a nap. Kissing practice really—takes it outta you.”
Matt smiles and nods and waits until Foggy’s in his own bed before he turns to bury his face in his pillow and wonder how much a plane ticket to Alaska would cost him.
*
“Mmf,” Marci says, into Foggy’s mouth, before she pulls back to favor him with an appraising look. “You’ve dramatically improved.”
“Dramatically?” Foggy asks, laughing. Marci pushes off his chest to sit up, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Do I have someone to thank for that?” she asks.
“YouTube tutorials?” Foggy offers, weakly, then after Marci frowns, “Okay, Matt and I might’ve–kissed each other. A little bit.”
“Oh my god,” Marci says, frown immediately turning into a grin. “How was he?”
Foggy sits up, too, thinking for a moment before he says, faintly, “Great, actually, he was really great,” and hides his face in his hands.
“…you like him, don’t you?” Marci asks, threading her fingers through his hair and untangling it, uncharacteristically gentle. Foggy sighs and takes advantage of the petting for awhile before he lifts his head again to make a face at her.
“I think so,” he says.
“Who initiated the kissing?” she asks.
“He offered friendly assistance,” Foggy says, frowning when Marci laughs.
“He’s in love with you,” she says. “This is adorable. And, honestly, kind of hot–let’s get back into this before we figure out how to hook you two up.”
She pushes Foggy back down and climbs on top of him, leaning down to brush their noses together.
“Didn’t think you’d be so into matchmaking,” Foggy says, pressing up to kiss her once.
“I can’t give you the gross romantic shit you’re into,” Marci says, “and I always leave my hook-ups satisfied. Now, take your pants off. Let’s do this quick and dirty.”
*
“Oh, I know what you should do,” Marci says, afterwards, when they’re lying beside each other under her sheets. “Keep practicing the kissing thing and then up the ante–tell him you want to practice fucking.”
“Oh, sure,” Foggy says, laughing. “Hey, buddy, mind bending over for me?”
“If he’s weird about it, pass it off as a joke,” Marci says, “and if he isn’t, then you’ll know that he’s not just being a weirdly supportive bro and then you two can nest in your dorm room love den.”
“And what will you do?” Foggy asks, turning his head to smile at her.
“I will Tinder away my loneliness,” she says, leaning in to kiss him. “I think what I need right now is a long string of hot people in my bed.”
“I wish you the best,” Foggy says, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.
“Oh, god, the cuddling,” Marci moans. “Fifteen minutes and then you’re out of here.”
Foggy kisses the top of her head and murmurs, “Deal.”
Foggy and Marci stop hooking up entirely after that because she says she’s afraid that warm and fuzziness might be contagious, but she insists that he meet her for coffee to give her the latest play-by-play.
“This is kind of hot, honestly,” Marci says, raising her eyebrows over her latte. “Have you two considered threesomes?”
“We haven’t even had sex yet,” Foggy says.
“Well, once you get that out of the way,” Marci says, pointing at him. “Hit me up.”
“You’ll be the first one I call,” Foggy says, laughing.
*
“Okay,” Foggy says, sitting a cup of coffee down in front of Matt, who was holding a table for him at the coffee shop on campus. “I need to have a sex talk with you.”
“I get the basic concept,” Matt says, smirking. “Birds, bees.”
“You’re funny,” Foggy says, like he doesn’t think Matt’s funny at all. “No, I just need to brainstorm. Marci’s, like, adventurous.”
Matt pulls a face.
“Adventurous how?” he asks, taking a sip of the coffee.
“She just has really high and creative expectations for someone who just wants to be friends with benefits,” Foggy says. “Every time I think I’ve caught up, she’s, like,put on this blindfold, Foggy, how do you feel about bondage, Foggy, let’s do anal next week, Foggy.”
“How do you feel about bondage?” Matt asks, laughing.
“I’m glaring at you,” Foggy says, then sighs. “It was fun, I’d do it again. It’s kind of just the last one where I have—no idea what I’m doing.”
“You could watch porn,” Matt offers.
“I don’t know how much porn you’re listening to, Murdock, but it’s not exactly representative of actual sex,” Foggy says. “I’m just gonna have to fumble through it, I guess.”
Matt says, “Hmm,” half in agreement even as he’s thinking about saying something else. Offering something. They’ve made out a few times in the name of education and maybe—maybe this isn’t that different.
He takes a long drink and a deep breath.
“We could practice,” he says, training his face so it’s noncommittal.
Foggy’s heart races over the gentle acoustic guitar soundtrack.
“Like the kissing?” he asks, kind of hoarsely.
“Yeah,” Matt says. “You can try it out, see what works, bounce some ideas off me. Like a study group.”
Foggy’s tapping his fingers nervously on the table, drawing in a short breath before he says, “Like a study group where I fuck you.”
Matt nods. He’ll be okay if Foggy says no. This is ridiculous, and he’ll get over it eventually.
“…wow, okay, let’s do it,” Foggy says, and Matt tries not to smile too enthusiastically.
Thank god he didn’t say no.
*
Foggy’s sitting on Matt’s bed when Matt comes back from class that evening, and his pulse picks up immediately when he sees Matt.
“Hey, hi, how was class?” he asks, kind of high-pitched.
“It was good,” Matt says, hanging his bag up. There’s a long, buzzing silent before Matt laughs and adds, “Do you want to just go for it?”
“Oh my god, yes,” Foggy says. “I didn’t want to be, like, hey, I’m down to–put my dick inside you whenever you are, it seemed kinda crass and–”
Foggy shuts up immediately when Matt strips his shirt off and drops it to the floor, and Matt smirks at him.
“You should get naked,” he says, and Foggy nods and doesn’t remember to tell Matt he nods, which is pretty telling. He gets undressed while he listens to Foggy stand up and do the same, then reaches out a hand in his direction.
Foggy steps forward to take it, lacing their fingers together.
“Hi,” Matt says, softly, smiling at him.
“Hi,” Foggy says, breathing out a laugh. “Can I kiss you?”
“You can do more than that,” Matt says, grinning against Foggy’s mouth when he ignores him and pulls Matt into a kiss. They kiss until they’re pressed together, skin against skin and if Matt moves his leg just a little to the side…
“Shit,” Foggy says, as their erections brush together. Matt feels electric, moving his hips to grind against him so Foggy moans, “God, Matty.”
“Sure you’re still okay with practicing on me?” Matt asks, kind of surprised by how low his voice is, how Foggy shivers against him. This isn’t real–it’s happening but it’s not real, even though Foggy’s breathing heavy against Matt’s cheek, running a hand through his hair.
“Are you?” Foggy asks, then after Matt makes an affirming noise, he walks Matt backwards until he can push him gently down onto the bed, laughing at the surprised look on Matt’s face. “I bought condoms. And lube.”
“Good,” Matt says, sitting up on his elbows. “Do you want me to–get myself ready?”
“Could I do it?” Foggy asks, touching Matt’s ankle. “For–practice.”
“Of course,” Matt says, laying back again and opening his legs. There’s a sound of a plastic bag and a box ripping open and, finally, a soft click when Foggy uncaps the lube and climbs on the bed next to Matt, smoothing a careful hand down his stomach.
“Thanks for doing this, buddy,” he says, kind of awkwardly, patting Matt’s hip.
“No problem,” Matt breathes, gasping a little when Foggy’s fingers slip down and run over his erection before sliding further to barely brush over his hole. He spreads his legs wider, and adds, when Foggy seems to hesitate, “It’s okay, you can go ahead.”
He vaguely wishes he could tell Foggy about how sensitive he is because of his senses, just to warn him that Marci might not be–quite as immediately into it as he is, already moaning just from Foggy pushing a finger inside of him slowly.
“Is it good?” Foggy asks, rubbing a fingertip over Matt where he’s barely stretched.
“Uh huh,” Matt says. “Keep going.”
He keeps telling Foggy how good it feels, how to spread his fingers open when he’s got three inside of Matt, how to–
“Shit, shit, right there,” Matt says, when Foggy’s fingers brush over his prostate.
“Whoa,” Foggy says.
Matt moans when Foggy keeps his fingers there, rubbing against it, barely manages to choke out, “I should probably warn you this won’t be as effective with a girl.”
“Right,” Foggy says, distractedly. “Right, because anatomy. Should I…you know, start?”
“Yeah,” Matt says. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.”
He reaches down to wrap a hand around his dick because it was feeling neglected, letting out a shuddering breath as he listens to Foggy struggle with a condom wrapper for a moment before he pulls it out and puts it on.
Matt lets his legs fall open so Foggy can kneel between them, smiling when Foggy rubs his thigh, gently.
“You sure I’m not going to hurt you?” Foggy asks.
“It’ll hurt a little,” Matt says, wrapping a leg around Foggy’s waist. “I don’t mind.”
“Cool,” Foggy says, spreading Matt open and lining up, barely pushing in. “Here goes.”
He fills Matt up slowly and carefully, stroking his side. They’re both shocked into silence, no sound in the room besides panting breaths and heartbeats. When Matt’s full, he murmurs, thickly, “Stay there for a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” Foggy echoes. “God, Matty, you feel amazing.”
“You do, too. You should kiss me, though,” Matt says. “I mean–Marci would probably want that.”
Foggy snorts, says, “You clearly don’t know Marci,” but he leans down to cup Matt’s face and kiss him sweetly. He’s gotten a lot better at kissing–or, at least, he’s gotten better at kissing Matt–and Matt moves his hips slowly up to feel Foggy inside of him, thick and hot.
“Okay,” he breathes, turning his head to break the kiss. “Fuck me.”
Foggy kisses him one more time, just a firm press of their mouths together, before he moves to wrap his hands around Matt’s hips and start fucking him slowly.
“God,” he pants. “Oh, god, Matt.”
Matt feels lost in the feeling, all the places their skin touching, the stretch of Foggy moving inside of him. He just sprawls out and lets Foggy do what he wants, says, “Yes, yes, yes,” frantically when Foggy digs his fingers in and picks up the pace.
“On a scale of one to ten,” Foggy says, “how would you rate me right now?”
Matt laughs, tipping his head back.
“I’ll give you a nine if you touch me,” he says.
“Oh, shit, of course,” Foggy says, reaching for the lube again before he starts to jerk Matt off, rolling his hips against him at the same time.
“You’re doing good,” Matt says, on the verge of babbling as Foggy tightens his hand. “You’re so good, I’m gonna–Foggy.”
Foggy leans down to kiss Matt as he comes, slow and soft as Matt whines against his mouth. Foggy keeps jerking him off until he says, “Too much, too much, you should–you should keep fucking me. Maybe–maybe hold me?”
“Like this?” Foggy asks, wrapping his arms around Matt and gathering him up so they’re curled into each other.
“Yeah,” Matt whispers. “That’s perfect.”
Foggy’s breath starts coming faster as he fucks Matt as fast as he can when they’re pressed up so close, until he’s saying, “Matty, you’re so tight. You’re killing me.”
Matt clenches around him and Foggy laughs and murmurs, fondly, “Brat.”
He groans Matt’s name when he comes, hips stuttering close to Matt’s until he lets out a long breath and settles his weight on top of Matt.
“Wow,” he murmurs.
Matt doesn’t want Foggy to pull out yet, but his legs are already aching, so he says, “I need to stretch out, could you–”
“Sorry, here,” Foggy says, pushing himself up to slide out of Matt slowly and take the condom off before he curls up beside Matt, who’s sprawled out on his back and stretching his legs out. He settles against Foggy, turning to rest his head against Foggy’s chest.
“Is Marci a cuddler?” he asks.
“Uhm–yeah, totally,” Foggy says.
He’s lying. He’s lying, and he presses a kiss to the top of Matt’s head and holds him close. Later, they’ll try to talk about it clinically, academically, but for now there’s time to sleep and pretend that Foggy wants him just as much as he wants Marci.
*
“I fucked him,” Foggy says, too loudly, as he drops down to sit in front of where Marci’s nursing a latte.
“Did you fuck him?” Marci asks. “Or did, you know, make love to him?”
“Okay, maybe the second one,” Foggy says, smiling, “but he said yes. It was–god, Marci, it was amazing. He’s amazing.”
“You could tell him that,” Marci says. “I think now’s the time to make the leap.”
“Maybe,” Foggy says, sitting back in his chair and sighing. “God, I can’t believe that just happened. We cuddled after.”
“Of course you did,” Marci say, dryly—maybe a little happy for him.
*
“God, Matt,” Foggy says, as soon as Matt steps into their room. “I have news.”
“News?” Matt asks.
“Well, kind of,” Foggy says. “Marci—you know Marci, right?”
Matt laughs, says, “Yeah, I know Marci. I know her too well, thanks to you.”
“Get ready to know more, then,” Foggy says, “because Marci bought a strap-on.”
Matt feels something like hope bloom up in his chest, saying, casually, “Oh, yeah? How do you feel about that?”
Foggy makes a considering noise, pushing himself off his bed and walking a little closer before he says, “A little scared? A lot excited.”
“So,” Matt says. “You want it, right?”
“Well, you seemed to like it,” Foggy says, taking another step forward. “Or—you liked the real thing, at least, and I figured it’s a rough equivalent.”
“If you’re scared, we could—I mean, if you wanted, I could—”
“Yes,” Foggy says, automatically, cutting Matt off. He groans softly. “God, I hope you’re offering what I think you’re offering.”
Matt smiles and closes the distance between them, reaching out to wrap a hand around Foggy’s arm.
“Want to try the real thing?” he asks, smiling wider when Foggy barks out a laugh, tipping his head forward to rest it against Matt’s shoulder. When he raises his head again, it’s close to Matt’s, his lips brushing against Matt’s jaw before he moves so they’re almost kissing.
“You’re very generous,” Foggy says.
“Oh, I think I’m average sized at best,” Matt says, and Foggy chokes on a laugh again.
“Oh my god, Murdock, are you gonna fuck me in the name of science or what?” he asks, and Matt kisses him instead of replying, tasting traces of Foggy’s day in his mouth. He bites at Foggy’s lower lip before he ducks down to kiss and bite at his neck, encouraged by the noises that Foggy makes, soft stuttering moans.
“Take your clothes off and lie down on my bed,” Matt says, softly, against Foggy’s collarbone.
Foggy undresses quickly and lies down on Matt’s bed, which was a completely selfish request with the end goal of Matt’s sheets smelling like him until the next time he washes them. Matt takes his time taking his clothes off, listening to Foggy’s body react, smiling helplessly when Foggy asks, “Is there some way that I can tell you that you’re kind of beautiful without making this whole thing weird?”
“That works,” Matt murmurs, turning away to get a condom and a bottle of lube from Foggy’s desk, opening the top drawer and feeling around until he finds them—added bonus, Foggy maybe didn’t see him blushing.
Matt climbs onto the bed and on top of Foggy immediately, draping himself over him and kissing him deeply. Foggy squirms a little underneath him until he’s comfortable, getting a hand in Matt’s hair and holding on.
When Matt breaks the kiss, taking a second to nose against Foggy’s cheek before pressing his lips to it lightly, he says, hopefully, “Do you want to stay on your back?”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Foggy says.
Matt kisses his mouth one more time before he moves down Foggy’s body, deciding he may as well take all he can get—bites gently at Foggy’s nipples and soothes them with his tongue, buries his face in Foggy’s stomach for a moment, presses kisses to the soft skin of his hips. Foggy’s shaking a little, breath coming in fast pants, and Matt says, mouth already close to Foggy’s erection, “Could I go down on you while I get you ready? It might—help make things easier.”
“If you must,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, biting at his hip before he gropes for where he dropped the lube and covers his fingers with it until they’re dripping.
When he sprawls back out between Foggy’s legs, Foggy opens them wider for him, and Matt pets his thigh and murmurs, “Good,” because just that word makes Foggy’s whole body seem warmer, like he’s flushed all the way down.
He licks a line up Foggy’s dick before he does anything else, and Foggy jolts a little, moaning.
“Geez,” he breathes out. “Have you done this before?”
“A few times,” Matt says. “Drunken party hook-ups.”
“Did you like it?” Foggy asks.
Matt raises his head to smile faintly at Foggy, saying, softly, “Yeah, I did,” before he’s going back down to take the head of Foggy’s dick into his mouth and suck.
“Fuck,” Foggy chants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He takes Foggy deeper as he slides a hand between his legs until his slick fingers are rubbing against Foggy’s hole. He makes a questioning noise around Foggy’s dick and Foggy whimpers a little before he says, “Yeah, Matty, go ahead.”
He opens Foggy up carefully, and Foggy helpfully narrates, telling him what feels good, when he needs to go slower, when Matt finds his prostate—“Matthew. Holyshit.”
Matt pulls off to grin at him, pressing a kiss to the head of Foggy’s dick before he asks, “Still want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah, yes, absolutely,” Foggy breathes. Matt feels around for the condom, and Foggy continues, “Here, let me—”
Matt sits up while Foggy retrieves the condom from the sheets and opens it up. He wraps gentle fingers around Matt’s dick and Matt’s eyes practically roll back in his head. When he finishes putting the condom on Matt, he leans in to kiss him softly before he sprawls back out.
“Okay,” he says, grandly. “Deflower me.”
Matt laughs, grabbing a pillow to slide under Foggy to make it more comfortable.
“Is that what I’m doing?” he asks, squeezing more lube out onto his fingers and pushing it carefully into Foggy, who shivers and gasps.
“Well, nobody else has ever offered to make sweet love to me in this particular manner,” Foggy says, while Matt’s lining up and rubbing his dick against Foggy, not pushing in yet.
“Except Marci,” Matt says.
“Right, of course,” Foggy says. “Except Marci.”
…that was a lie, too. Matt tries to wrap his head around that, but then Foggy’s lifting his hips up and Matt decides not to worry about it yet. He curls his fingers around Foggy’s hips as he pushes into him, filling him up slowly until he’s seated in him, vaguely aware that he’s probably going to last like 30 seconds.
Foggy lets out a shaky breath before he says, “Okay, move, you can move.”
Matt nods, pulling all the way out again before he thrusts back into Foggy, thrilled at the low moan that he gets for it. He fucks Foggy steadily, not hard but fast enough that it’s a constant motion that has Foggy pushing up to take Matt better.
“Good, Fog, you’re doing so good,” Matt says. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” Foggy says. “Holy shit, yes.”
“You want it harder?”
“Uh huh,” Foggy says, and Matt tightens his grip on Foggy’s hips, speeding up until Foggy’s moaning and wrapping a leg around Matt to dig his heel into his back.
“Oh, god, Matt,” Foggy groans. “Baby, please.”
Matt’s breath catches a little at that, and he goes still and interrupts Foggy when he tries to apologize, saying, “It’s okay, you can call me that—is that—is that what you call Marci?”
“…yeah,” Foggy says, but it’s another lie that Matt can hear so clearly, even if he couldn’t hear Foggy’s heart skipping. He bends down to kiss Foggy before he can say something he’ll regret, pressed in deep and rocking their hips together slowly.
He wonders briefly if this is how Foggy fucks Marci—or vice versa—if it’s sweet and slow and overwhelming—and then decides he doesn’t want to think about it. Instead, he gathers Foggy up in his arms just like Foggy did for him and fucks him until he’s coming with a groan of Foggy’s name.
Before Foggy has a chance to react, Matt’s pulling out and ducking down to take Foggy’s dick in his mouth again, going down as far as he can in one go so Foggy makes a startled noise and says, “Fuck, Matty, baby, I’m gonna—”
He thrusts up into Matt’s mouth, lasting about a minute before he’s coming with a wordless sob. Matt licks around him until Foggy tugs gently at his hair.
He takes a minute to get rid of the condom before he’s laying down beside Foggy and pulling him into his arms again. They lie together quietly for awhile until Matt asks, “Do you feel prepared?”
“For what?” Foggy murmurs, yawning against Matt’s chest.
“Marci,” Matt says.
“Oh,” Foggy says, heart speeding up. “Yeah, definitely. I’m like a pro now.”
Matt kisses his hair and doesn’t push it, but he knows what he has to do, now.
He has to talk to Marci.
*
“Murdock,” Marci says, after Matt knocks on her door. “Not at all surprised to see you here.”
“Yeah?” Matt asks.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with your better half,” she says. “Also, I’m all-knowing and you should fear me. Please come in.”
“Oh, I definitely fear you,” Matt says, smiling. “Can I sit?”
“Bed’s about four steps to your left,” she says, moving to sit nearby, on her desk chair.
Matt sits and tries to figure out exactly how to ask what he needs to ask, and Marci sits patiently, tapping her nails against the desk.
“Is it okay if I ask you something?” Matt asks, finally, voice going soft when he adds, “About you and Foggy?”
“By all means,” Marci says, laughter underneath her voice. “Ask away.”
Matt wonders if she knows everything and almost pushes that instead, but instead, he asks, as calmly as he can, “Did you just buy a strap-on?”
Marci chokes a little before she keeps laughing.
“No,” she says. “I did not. Why do you ask?”
“Do you already know the answer to that question?” Matt asks, making a face at her, really not wanting to say because it’s the potentially fake reason that I just fucked my roommate, who I’m maybe in love with.
“Pretty sure, yeah,” Marci says. “I think it might have something to do with you, actually. Are you here to steal my man, Murdock?”
Matt’s mouth falls open and his stomach sinks before he says, “No, absolutely not—I don’t want to come between the two of you if you’re—”
“I’m joking,” Marci interrupts. “He’s not my man, we even stopped fucking like two weeks ago.”
Two weeks would’ve been right after Matt and him started fucking. Matt smiles to himself, and Marci sighs, leaning forward.
“Honestly, Foggy wants all of the hand holding and hair stroking and post-coital cuddling, and, right now, I really just want someone to fuck me hard enough to make me forget that finals week is coming up and then leave me to sleep in peace,” Marci says.
“I respect that,” Matt says.
“As you should,” Marci says. “Based on the fact that I think you’re here to ask for Foggy’s hand, though, I’m gonna hazard the guess that you’re also into all that warm fuzzy affectionate garbage.”
“Yeah,” Matt says, laughing and blushing at the same time. “That’s about it.”
“Go romantically bone each other,” Marci says, dryly. “You have my blessing.”
“Really? Thanks,” Matt says. He starts to leave but turns around when his hand hits the doorknob, making a face. “Has Foggy ever—has he mentioned us?”
“I think you should let him tell you that himself,” she says, “but, trust me, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
Matt smiles at her.
“Oh my god, get out,” she says, laughing. “I have to find a new fuck buddy, and I can’t do while you’re standing there looking goofy.”
He thanks her again before he slips out, shutting the door behind him quietly and stopping to lean against it, taking a deep breath and tipping his head back to smile at the ceiling instead.
Foggy wants him. All Matt has to do now is show Foggy exactly how much he wants him back.
*
Foggy’s standing up, shifting things around on his desk, when Matt gets back. Matt listens to him for a few moments before he decides to just jump right in, not willing to wait a second more.
“Hey, can I practice something on you?” he asks, and Foggy makes a curious noise, turning around.
“Totally,” he says. “I’m all yours.”
Matt bites back a smile as he steps in to cup Foggy’s face in both hands and kiss him carefully, tongue barely brushing against Foggy’s bottom lip before Matt’s pulling back to say, “I love you.”
It’s—too soon, definitely, and they’re young and stupid and probably shouldn’t make any grand declarations, but Matt’s pretty sure he experienced whatever the blind equivalent of love at first sight is the very first time he met Foggy.
Foggy’s voice is shaky when he asks, “Who are you practicing that for?”
“Who do you think?” Matt asks, kissing him again.
“Uhm,” Foggy says, when they part. “That girl you’ve been flirting with in our econ class.”
“Nope,” Matt murmurs. Another kiss, and Foggy’s heart is racing, right up against Matt’s chest.
“Professor Henderson,” Foggy says, breathlessly. “Have you two been getting hot and heavy during his office hours?”
“He is sixty seven,” Matt says, laughing. “One more guess.”
Foggy kisses Matt this time before resting their foreheads together.
“Is it me?” he whispers, and Matt beams at him.
“Yeah,” Matt says. “That okay?”
Foggy kisses Matt again instead of replying, fast and desperate, gasping when Matt slips his hands into Foggy’s back pockets and really kisses back. They stumble to Foggy’s bed without breaking the kiss, and Matt climbs on top of him and sits back to catch his breath, Foggy gasping underneath him.
“I talked to Marci,” Matt says, smiling down at him.
“Oh god,” Foggy says. “Why.”
“I had to make sure that I was right before I made a move,” Matt says. “Did you not even tell her about the strap-on excuse?”
“She would have made fun of me,” Foggy says. “She’s already seen me naked, I don’t need to give her any more material.”
“I’m sure you look great,” Matt says, leaning in close again, adding in a low murmur against Foggy’s lips. “You feel great.”
“Yeah?” Foggy asks.
“Yeah,” Matt echoes, kissing him once before he trails his lips down to Foggy’s neck, kissing it lazily and then breathing in deep, nosing against Foggy’s collarbone. “You smell great. You sound—amazing.”
“What do I sound like?” Foggy asks, sliding his fingers into Matt’s hair.
Matt wants to tell him about his heart, about how Matt falls asleep listening to it every night and maybe that’s one reason it was so easy to fall for him—maybe someday he can say it. Instead, he says, “Like you’re happy that I’m here, like you—can’t get enough of me, like you—”
Matt draws off, lifting his head up again to give Foggy a soft look.
“Like I love you?” Foggy asks, hand slipping from Matt’s hair to cup his cheek, rub a thumb over his cheekbone.
“Like you love me,” Matt agrees, sprawling his fingers out over Foggy’s heart.
“I do,” Foggy says. “I’m glad you said it, because I know it’s kind of ridiculous, but I love you so much, Matty.”
“Should’ve have just told me instead of coming up with a scheme,” Matt says, smirking. “I could have fucked you sooner.”
“You liked that, huh?” Foggy asks.
“Yeah, I liked that,” Matt says, moving his hands to squeeze Foggy’s hips gently.
“You want to do it again?” Foggy asks, a little joking and a lot hopeful, and Matt shifts so he can grind down against Foggy and kiss him slow and dirty.
“Turn over for me, honey,” Matt murmurs, wet lips against Foggy’s cheek, and Foggy groans and thrusts up one more time before Matt moves his weight off of him. He moves to his hands and knees and Matt wraps his arms around him from behind, hugging him for a second before he presses kisses to Foggy’s back where his t-shirt is rucked up while he works on his belt.
Foggy gasps when Matt tugs his jeans and boxers down, saying softly, “God, I can’t believe you want me, too.”
“I’ll prove it to you,” Matt says, biting gently at the small of Foggy’s back before he spreads Foggy open and licks over his hole. “That okay?”
“Yes, oh my god,” Foggy breathes, heart racing, settling his head down against his arms and raising his hips higher. Matt’s only gone down on a girl before, but Foggy seems to like it, moaning underneath him as Matt opens him up carefully and licks inside of him until Foggy’s shaking and gasping out, “Matt, Matty.”
“Mmm hmm?” Matt asks, nosing against Foggy’s hole before raising his head up.
“That’s amazing but I need you to fuck me, like, right now,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, sitting up fully and spreading his hands out over Foggy’s ass.
“Absolutely,” he says, squeezing gently before he hauls himself off the bed to get lube and a condom. He unzips his jeans after he’s back behind Foggy, pushing them down over his hips and putting the condom on first before he covers his fingers in lube.
“Just so you know,” Foggy says, kind of strained while Matt’s working a finger into him, “Marci and I haven’t done anything since, like—the second time we practiced kissing. It felt like cheating.”
“On Marci?” Matt asks.
“On you,” Foggy says, laughing out a moan when Matt adds a second finger and spreads them out to feel Foggy stretch to take him.
“I appreciate the fidelity,” Matt says. “She, uhm. Might have given her blessing for this to happen?”
“Oh, good,” Foggy says. “I guess I’ll tell my dad that she has to give me away at the wedding.”
Matt goes still with three fingers buried to the last knuckle inside of Foggy, and Foggy groans.
“Pretend I didn’t just talk about our wedding,” he says, faintly, and Matt laughs, twisting his fingers before he pulls them out and wipes them off on Foggy’s sheets.
“I’ll help you forget,” he says, dripping lube onto his hand again before smoothing his hand up and down his dick a few times, so, when he pushes into Foggy gently, Foggy just takes him with a low moan. He reaches around to jerk Foggy off slowly until he’s seated inside of him, tightening his grip on Foggy’s hip as he starts to fuck him with slow, deep thrusts.
“Matty,” Foggy breathes. The room feels hushed and warm and buzzing electric underneath it all, everything narrowed and focused on the two of them, on Matt moving slow inside of Foggy and Foggy’s dick twitching in his hand.
“You want it harder?” Matt asks.
“Yeah,” Foggy says.
“You should know that harder also means—this being over really quickly,” Matt says, already overwhelmed from the feeling of Foggy hot and tight around him. Foggy thinks about it for a second before he pushes back, clenching around Matt.
“Worth it,” he says, firmly. “Don’t stop touching me.”
“Okay,” Matt says, smiling and speeding up his hips and his hand until Foggy’s moaning his name and coming over his hand—until Matt’s following him, saying nonsensically, “Good, you feel so good—Foggy, I’m—Foggy.”
He stays inside of Foggy while they both catch their breath, until Foggy says, “Get down here and spoon me, Murdock,” voice hoarse and happy.
Matt pulls out carefully and ties up the condom, tossing it aimlessly towards the trash can while Foggy turns over onto his side. He presses himself up against Foggy’s back, pressing a kiss behind his ear and wrapping his arms around him.
“I’m really glad you’re a cuddler,” Foggy says, sighing softly and pushing back against him. “Some people are very against it.”
Matt huffs out a laugh against Foggy’s neck.
“I like the warm and fuzzy stuff,” he says.
“I am both of those things,” Foggy says, yawning. “So, that’s why you like me.”
“Love you,” Matt corrects him, and Foggy echoes it back. There are more reasons why he likes Foggy—loves Foggy, so many more reasons, but they don’t have to get into it right now. They’ve got time.