this thing is a big mess but it exists
“Foggy,” Matt says, voice shaking.
Matt’s been trying to say something all day, because he was a step off base and two inches away from getting a knife in his throat last night and he needs Foggy to know, at least. He doesn’t have to do anything about it, he just needs to know that Matt is—that Matt’s always been—
“…whoa, what’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately turning back, stepping in to rest a cautious hand on Matt’s shoulder. Foggy was always better at this, knowing when to say something when it’s just the two of them, when to touch. He’d probably have already said something if he felt even half of what Matt does, which makes this even more terrifying. Stupid, probably. They’re already on unsteady ground, and if Foggy—if Foggy wanted him, Matt would already know.
“Nothing,” Matt says, on instinct, like he does every time he’s decided that now is the moment he’ll finally confess everything. He’s never confessed anything, really. He wouldn’t have told Foggy about the devil if Foggy hadn’t found him in a pool of his own blood. “Uhm, never mind—it’s noth—”
“Nope,” Foggy says, kind of clipped, cutting him off. “You don’t get to nothing me anymore. Not when nothing could be—broken ribs or ninjas.”
Matt ducks his head and laughs softly, chewing on his lip for a too-long moment before he says, rip-off-the-band-aid quickly, “I need to tell you something, something that I should’ve told you—years ago.”
“…is this something more shocking than the devil thing?” Foggy asks, sounding amused, belying the way his heart immediately started racing. “Do you have an evil twin? Are you a secret billionaire? I’m gonna be pissed if you’re a secret billionaire, I’ve been living on Ramen and dreams for way too long—”
“Foggy,” Matt says. If he doesn’t say it now, he’s never going to. This is it.
Matt takes a deep breath.
*
One week into freshman year, Matt’s recognizes that the warm, overwhelming feeling that he gets when he’s around Foggy—and the stupid ache when he’s not—is a crush. He’s had them before, small ones, but not like this and not on a guy and not on Foggy, who might be the best friend that Matt’s ever had even though they barely know each other.
He spends the first few months wondering about the way that Foggy’s heart sounded when they first met, but nothing ever happens and he can’t make it happen. He can’t say anything if he doesn’t know for sure that Foggy won’t decide to switch roommates and never talk to him again. It’s not worth it.
By second semester, Matt’s in love.
And it hurts.
*
Sophomore year and Matt knows what it feels like to have a best friend and he thinks—maybe. Maybe it’s worth trying, because maybe Foggy would say yes, maybe he’d finally get to kiss him, maybe they’d get married and move back to Hell’s Kitchen and get a cat.
Okay, he probably shouldn’t tell Foggy that.
That year, Matt opens his mouth to tell Foggy at least a hundred times. Maybe two.
It doesn’t come out once.
*
Foggy spends the entirety of junior year wrapped up in Marci.
Matt spends the entirety of junior year trying not to hate her and going out with girls who he never sees after the weekend and feeling ashamed about the fact that he has to keep stopping himself from crying. It’s been years. He should just get over it.
He’s going to get over it.
*
Matt’s doing a great job of repressing it until a Christmas party in law school, when he gets caught under the mistletoe with Foggy and goaded into staying there. In one moment, Foggy’s fingers touching his face, he’s eighteen again and thinking about crawling into Foggy’s bed just to sleep beside him.
“You ready, Murdock?” Foggy asks, happily.
“I’m ready,” Matt says, trying not to sound breathless, mostly failing.
“Don’t fall in love with me,” Foggy says, and Matt feels sick immediately, but maybe this is it. They both shift in closer. Foggy’s breath is warm on his face. It’s everything he’s wanted for five years —admittedly, with about 30 people watching, but he’ll take what he can get.
Maybe Foggy will realize how he feels if Matt kisses him like he’s in love with him.
He’s about to kiss Foggy first when Foggy cups his other cheek and smushes his face, leaning in to press a firm, loud, ridiculous kiss to his mouth. The crowd boos.
Matt laughs it off and disappears as soon as Foggy’s distracted so he can to go back to the dorm and jerk off to the feeling of Foggy’s lips on his for three seconds, to a joke. He’s not—he’s not over it.
He’s really not.
*
When he starts going out at night and coming home bruised and bloody, it’s easier to tamp it down. He needs to keep Foggy at arm’s length to keep him safe and so—so he doesn’t find out. Two secrets and both of them could fuck up the longest and best relationship in Matt’s life for good.
When he’s telling Foggy everything, after Foggy finds him bleeding out, he tells him that he loves him. Foggy can’t tell the difference, though. Matt doesn’t just love him, he—he loves him.
After that, though, Foggy doesn’t leave.
One more secret.
*
“Foggy,” he says. “I love you.”
“…I love you, too, buddy,” Foggy says. “Are you dying or something? Am I dying?”
“Shut up,” Matt says, laughing, bordering on hysterical. “I love you.”
“You…love me,” Foggy echoes, confused. “Like…?”
“Like I’m in love with you,” Matt says. “Like I want you. Like I—I’ve wanted you since I was nineteen.”
Foggy’s heart picks up and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. That’s not in the realm of reactions that Matt expected and he’s really tempted to just walk out because he didn’t think Foggy could be this shitty, but then Foggy catches his breath and says, “Oh my god, sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Matty.”
“It kind of sounds like it,” Matt says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I know, it’s just—that’s so long,” Foggy says. “Like, a decade. You’re so cool and smart and you—you date girls who look like they fell out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog and, all this time, you’re in love with me?”
“Yeah,” Matt murmurs, turning his head away.
“Hey,” Foggy says, stepping forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t pout yet. You’ve kind of shaken up my world, you gotta give me a second to adjust here.”
Matt nods, but he can’t resist asking, as casually as he can, “…did you ever feel the same?”
“…honestly?” Foggy says. “Not really.”
“Okay,” Matt says, quickly and immediately, starting to walk away. “Look, you can go, I just had to get that off my chest. It’s not a big deal.”
“Hey,” Foggy repeats, firmly, holding Matt’s other shoulder to keep him in place. “I said give me a second. Don’t move.”
Matt sighs but stays where he is.
“Just because I haven’t felt like that,” Foggy says, “doesn’t mean I won’t.”
“Doesn’t mean you will.”
“Yeah,” Foggy says, shrugging, “but I bet it’ll be fun to try. I like you a lot, Matt—can I take you out to dinner?”
“…seriously?” Matt asks.
Foggy makes a curious noise before he leans up to press a lingering kiss to Matt’s cheek, running fingers through his hair. Matt lets out a surprised breath, feeling the kiss all the way down in his toes.
“Seriously,” Foggy says. “You, me, cheap food, cheaper booze. I might hold your hand. God—are you sure you’re in love with me, buddy? Because you’re seriously way out of my league. It’s probably why I never considered you as an option.”
“I love you,” Matt says, firmly.
He reaches out a hand hopefully and Foggy takes it, lacing their fingers together.
“Y’know, I like the sound of that,” he says.
oh my god, they were roommates 