honestly, bless you for both giving me an excuse to procrastinate and an excuse to write more mermaid fic:
They spend a really long time making out in the locker room next to the pool, having shed most of their wet clothes and found clean towels with the rest of the swim team’s gear. They’re in their boxers and there’s a chair shoved up against the door in case anybody else decides to come for a late night drunken swim and Foggy surprises Matt with being strong enough to lift him up as long as he’s pressed tight against the wall and keeps his legs around Foggy’s waist.
“Fuck,” Foggy says, after Matt very carefully rolls his hips up so his erection slides against Foggy’s damp stomach. “We definitely shouldn’t have any type of sex in a locker room.”
“C’mon,” Matt murmurs, smiling down at him, moving his hips again. “Weird locker room sex seems really appropriate right now.”
Foggy laughs and starts to say something before his breathing changes slightly, a little sharp intake before he’s lowering Matt to the ground with a groan and saying, “Hey, speaking of weird, you never told me your secret mermaid level secret.”
Matt smirks at him. He always thought, if he ever told Foggy, that it would be terrifying, nerve-wracking. Now, though, it feels like they’re on equal footing.
“Nothing will ever beat the secret mermaid thing,” he says, and Foggy shoves his shoulder gently.
“Expose your shame, Murdock,” he says.
Matt takes a deep breath before he says, “I can’t see,” laughing when Foggy interrupts him with a, “Oh my god, you dick.”
He leans in to press a soft kiss to Foggy’s mouth before he takes his arm and leads him to sit down on one of the benches, pressed close together.
“I can’t see,” he says, again, more seriously, “but everything else, my hearing, my ability to smell–is amped up to twelve.”
“Like the whole thing where your senses compensate when you lose one?” Foggy asks.
“But taken to a ridiculous level,” Matt says. “I could tell you what you’ve eaten for the last week just from the smell of your breath, though–having my tongue in your mouth helped…” Foggy starts to say something and Matt continues, adding quickly, “You had tuna for lunch three days ago–is that kind of like cannibalism? Pasta for dinner yesterday, not enough garlic. Also, you taste like you drank five cups of coffee this morning.”
“…it was four,” Foggy says, weakly. “That’s. A really neat party trick, buddy.”
“I can hear your heart,” Matt says, instead of replying, because he knows it’s the worst part. “I can–I have to guess, but most of the time I can tell when people are lying, when they’re nervous, when–when they’re attracted to someone.”
Matt can actually smell that one, but that seems like it might push them into too much territory.
Foggy’s quiet for a long moment, and Matt takes his hand, grateful when Foggy lets him.
“So, you’ve heard every time I’ve lied to you?” he asks, eventually.
“Not on purpose,” Matt says. “I just can’t always block it out.”
“…I feel like you should’ve figured out the mermaid thing by now,” Foggy says, sounding kind of dazed.
“Well, you never said, ‘Hey, I’m not a mermaid,’” Matt says, smiling at him. “That would’ve tipped me off.”
Foggy laughs softly.
“You are weird,” he says, not unkindly.
“You’re half-fish,” Matt says.
“It’s not a competition,” Foggy says, and he still sounds nervous, but not angry or scared or anything.
Also. Matt can smell him. So, that’s helpful, and he’s not surprised when Foggy’s pulling him into another kiss.
“I want to know,” Foggy says, between kisses, “so much more, and–mmph, dude, you’re good at this–I’m sure you’ve got stuff you want to know, too, but–it can wait, right?”
“For weird locker room sex?” Matt asks, raising his eyebrows.
“For putting on our wet clothes and walking miserably back to our room,” Foggy corrects him. “Then…I don’t know, maybe we take a shower together.”
“Will that turn you into a mermaid, too?” Matt asks, reluctantly letting Foggy stand up and frowning at him when he throws Matt’s wet t-shirt so it lands on Matt’s head.
“Nah, I have to be immersed,” Foggy says. “It’s a magic thing.”
“I can recognize your footsteps from a block away,” Matt says.
“Jesus,” Foggy says. “Just mine? Or everybody’s?”
“I could know everybody’s if I bothered,” Matt says, realizing this sounds like a love confession where they might only be around the stage of casually fucking in the shower. “I just know yours, though.”
Foggy’s heart does a really pretty thing, and then he’s bending down to kiss Matt one more time, emphatically, on his forehead.
“Here’s to weirdos,” he says, and Matt grins up at him.
“Here’s to us.”
oh my god, they were roommates 