i hope this delivered on the desperate!! and it’s also #nsfw.
(this is for the $5 level on patreon, where i’ll write you a 500+ word ficlet every month.)
“Matt, wait,” Foggy says, before he sends Matt off to be a hero.
Matt turns back and Foggy takes the five steps between them to pull him in by the collar of his borrowed t-shirt and kiss him on the mouth. There’s one, two, three seconds and then Matt kisses him back cautiously, curving a hand around Foggy’s cheek.
They both gasp when they part.
“…now?” Matt asks, laughing, resting his hands on Foggy’s shoulders.
“I didn’t want to miss my window,” Foggy says.
“The window’s been open since the day we met,” Matt says, looking so pleased and overwhelmed that Foggy can’t help but feel like, under all the fear and anxiety and anger at Matt for doing stupidly brave shit like he’s about to do, he’s glowing.
Matt kisses him again, firmly.
“I have to go,” he says, smoothing down Foggy’s hair gently, while Foggy bites his tongue so he doesn’t beg him to stay even though he’d beg if he had to. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You better be,” he says, thinking that he can live off the soft smile that Matt gives him until he gets back.
*
Matt doesn’t come back.
And Foggy can’t live off that.
*
Jessica calls him to tell him that Matt is on his way and it makes Foggy furious, that she would joke about it, that she’d do it after months and months of Foggy trying and failing and trying and failing to move on. It takes a few minutes of her yelling back at him before he realizes that she probably wouldn’t do this to him. Jessica’s not nice but she’s also not actively a jerk; it would take too much of her energy than she’d bother using on him.
So he stands stock still in the middle of his apartment taking shallow breaths, too shocked for his mind to race, to try to figure out how the hell Matt could be alive after all this time.
When there’s a knock on his door, he starts shaking.
“Foggy,” Matt says.
Foggy’s breath catches and his body moves without his consent, trembling hand going to Matt’s hair to pull him into a kiss. Matt goes with it, as rough as Foggy wants and Foggy wants—wants to remember this if Matt’s gone again, wants bruises and scratches and swollen lips.
“Neighbors,” Matt breathes.
“Fuck ‘em,” Foggy says, mumbled against his mouth, but he lets Matt back them up and slam the door behind him.
Matt makes an agreeable noise when Foggy pushes him up against the door, tilting his head to the side so Foggy can bite and suck bruises onto his neck, panting when he asks, “Should we—should we talk?”
“I thought the window closed, Matt,” Foggy says, butting his head against Matt’s collarbone, hiding his face because he can’t look at Matt’s yet. “So fuck my neighbors, fuck talking, fuck—fuck you for leaving me, you dick.”
He’d cry right now if he didn’t need Matt to fuck him right now.
“I didn’t want to leave,” Matt says, haltingly.
Foggy doesn’t believe him—not really. He knows that Elektra went down with him, buried underneath all that debris, no body to be found. He was willing to disrupt both their lives for her and Foggy thinks he’d be willing to die for her, too. It’s wrong for him to be jealous. Matt was never just his.
He doesn’t care, though. He’s been in hole ripped inside of him agony for months and he doesn’t care about being reasonable.
Matt seems to realize that this isn’t the conversation to have right now because he tugs Foggy’s head up by his hair and kisses him again, bites at his lip, curls his hands around Foggy’s hips and holds them tight to pull him close and grind their hips together.
“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Yeah, Matt—c’mon, I’ve wanted you forever, I want you inside—”
Matt interrupts him with a thrust of his hips, smile close to Foggy’s face when Foggy moans.
“Whatever you want,” Matt promises, fervently.
Foggy’s never gotten that before.
*
“Matty,” Foggy groans, when Matt’s inside of him, too fast to do more than bend him over an arm on the couch and shove down his sweats and open him up with enough lube that it only hurts a little when Matt pushes in.
“Fog,” Matt says, shakily. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Foggy whines in the back of his throat because he doesn’t even have to tell Matt to fuck him harder, he just does it, holding onto Foggy’s hips and pulling them up to get a better angle.
Foggy cries. He’s feeling too many things at once and he can’t help it, voice breaking when he says, “Don’t stop, I just–I missed you. I thought we’d get to have this and then I thought you were gone forever and–fuck, Matty, please.”
“Missed you, too,” Matt groans out, like he’s having a hard time speaking, and then he’s pulling out and ignoring Foggy’s protest to boost him up so he’s sitting on the arm and Matt can wrap his arms around him and Foggy can wrap his legs around Matt and Matt can kiss him while he fucks him.
And Foggy can see his face, see it twisted up with just as many emotions as Foggy’s feeling, and he loves him. He’s always loved him.
He’s surprised when Matt’s the one who says it first.
Matt’s back and he’s wrecking him and he loves Foggy and–Foggy’s getting what he wants. He’s getting everything he’s ever wanted.
He just hopes, feeling sick even though he’s so happy, that it lasts this time.
oh my god, they were roommates 