i’m watching sex and the city and now i want 30-something sex columnist foggy and eligible single bachelor matt and…that’s all i’ve got but i want it
Foggy’s column is about trying out sex-related things (light BDSM! watching porn together! putting IcyHot on your bits! he didn’t like that last one) but he and Marci just ended their friends with benefits arrangement for the ninth time and he has a column due TOMORROW and he’s FREAKING OUT…
…and then his best friend volunteers to help.
this is very good
“I have to have sex with someone
on a washing machine right now,” Foggy
says, stumbling through the door at Josie’s and throwing himself into the chair
in front of Matt.“Well, time to go,” Jessica says,
finishing her whiskey and standing up.“It would be fun! I mean—probably!”
Foggy calls after her, before slumping down in his seat and moaning. “Matty, I’m
getting fired.”“Where’s Marci?” Matt asks,
amused.“She ditched me,” Foggy says, leaning
over to steal Matt’s beer, “for a Wall Street broker with a big dick and an
obnoxiously nice face.”“You’ve met him?” Matt asks,
raising his eyebrows.“Nope,” Foggy says, sighing. “She
sent me a picture and a measurement. My deadline’s tomorrow—I’m fucked.”“Well, technically you’re not,” Matt says,
laughing when Foggy balls up a napkin and throws it at him. “Come on, you write
a sex column—surely there’s somebody you can hook up with.”“I made calls,” Foggy says. “I
made ten calls. Turns out most people don’t want their sexual exploits written
about in the paper, even anonymously—who knew?”“You and Marci do have a certain unique form of
shamelessness,” Matt says. “What about Karen?”“Yes, I should just casually
sleep with a coworker and my best
friend’s ex,” Foggy says. “That’s not a terrible plan at all. Come on, I need your
A game right now, Murdock.”Matt nods and takes his beer
back, finishing it off.“I’ll do it with you,” he says, calmly.
“…excuse me?” Foggy asks.
“Well, I don’t want you getting fired,” Matt says reasonably. “Who would pay your half of the rent?” He makes a thoughtful face. “The difficult thing will be getting a washing machine. I don’t think the laundromat down the street would appreciate your journalistic endeavors.”
“Danny has one at his place, I was going to ask him,” Foggy says automatically. “Let’s go back to the part where you said you’d do it.”
“Well, do you have a better idea?”
They’re walking down the sidewalk
toward Danny’s place, Foggy’s laundry bag with condoms and lube on top slung
over one shoulder and Matt’s hand holding onto his arm, when Foggy breaks and
says, “Okay, how are you being so cool about this? I didn’t even know you slept
with men.”“I’ve been known to,” Matt says.
He will never tell Marci this, but normally, when preparing for the actual sex part of his sex column, Foggy is thinking less about the handcuffs or the whipped cream or the aromatherapy oils and more about how he’s going to write about the handcuffs, whipped cream, etc. Even while doing things that seriously entice – or intimidate – him, a good percentage of his mind is hung up on racy turns of phrase, atrocious puns, and trying to come up with a non-stupid synonym for “nipple.”
Standing here in Danny’s laundry room, though, Foggy can’t think about anything but Matt.
“I—uhm—” Matt says, laughter in his voice
even though Foggy’s clearly thrown him off which is—amazing. He doesn’t get the upper hand that often and especially
not in a way that has the blush spreading to Matt’s cheeks.“Or you could have both,” he says, stepping closer,
placing a hand on Matt’s arm.“Yeah, nothing fancy, just on my phone,” Foggy says.
Matt furrows his brow. “This isn’t a cool visual feature of your column you’ve so far neglected to mention, is it?”
“No, no!” Foggy says hastily, half laughing and half horrified. “Just…if I need to reference it later. It’s a way of taking notes without, like…” He crouches over and holds up an imaginary phone. “Siri, add to Notes: spanking isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”
“Says you,” Matt mutters, and Foggy chokes. “So it’s just for research?”
“You caught me,” Foggy says, dryly. “Want to stop?”
“Nah,” Matt says, settling in again and sighing.
“Might as well see it through.”
“That’s the spirit,” Foggy says, indulgently panning
over Matt’s body with his phone before he slaps him on the ass, grinning when
Matt makes sharp, surprised noise followed quickly by a moan that Foggy’s never
going to forget.
“Thought you said that wasn’t fun,” Matt says.
“Maybe it is with someone
that likes it so much,” Foggy says, backing up. “Hey, smile for the camera,
Matty.”
Matt looks up to grin at
him.
“Put that down and fuck me,”
he says, with this face that relieves all the worries that Foggy’s got—because
Matt really wants him. He can see it.
He’s got documented evidence.
After he gets his phone
settled on a shelf at a good angle, he grabs the lube to slick up his fingers and
stand behind Matt, resting his other hand on Matt’s hip and squeezing it
lightly while his fingers slide over Matt’s hole.
“God,” Matt breathes. “This
is real.”
“Is that okay?” Foggy
asks.
“Yeah,” Matt says. “Go
ahead, I just—out of all the ways I imagined this happening, I didn’t think it
would involve Danny and a washing machine.”
Foggy goes still.
“…how—how often do
you imagine this happening, buddy?”
oh my god, they were roommates 