So I was looking up pet names for your partner for, uh, reasons and look what I found on one of these lists:
I’m not saying “it’s just a pet name for my…boyfriend?” is a perfect nonsensical cover-up for when Foggy accidentally refers to Matt as Daredevil but that’s exactly what I’m saying.
Nervously prattling on: Seriously, this guy is such a Daredevil, drank a double shot espresso and two Red Bulls at like, 2 AM in college just to stay up and cram for a final. He’s wild, haha, totally not a super sense having vigilante, nope.
AKA “everyone is affected by some sort of love spell and falls in love with person A but person B’s behavior curiously doesn’t change at all” (@preciouswlw)
How could we even tell the difference, Foggy says. This is the most I’ll ever love you again, Matt hears.
“I get that you’re angry,” he bites out, “but you don’t have to be cruel about it.”
Foggy rounds on him for the second time that night. “Cruel? You want to talk about cruel? I’m coming around to the possibility you did somehow cause the spell to happen, Matt, because that’s what you do. If someone has a feeling that’s inconvenient, just pretend they don’t! Why should I be surprised that you finally got the world the act the way you want it?”
Matt’s first reaction, he’s ashamed to note, is a ridiculous surge of jealousy at Jessica’s use of the possessive.
His second is alarm. The only way Jessica could know that is if she’s still staking Matt’s apartment out, and that could mean her following Foggy back to Matt – or worse, Foggy in danger. Matt’s not sure how irrationally the spell will make people behave.
He decides to buy time by playing dumb. Hogarth? he directs his phone to text.
In Matt’s apartment, the Defenders sit three in a row on the sofa, drinking his coffee. They all perk up when he thunders down the stairs from the roof. “Stay there. Don’t even talk,” he growls. It’s his work-voice, and he doesn’t mean the one he uses on juries.
Danny whimpers and fans himself with his hand.
Matt shucks his mask and falls to his knees in front of Foggy seated at the table, taking him gently by the back of the neck and feeling for damage to his throat.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live,” Foggy says. He turns his head a little, takes in Luke, Jessica, and Danny openly watching, and drops his voice uselessly, “but we are definitely having words later, counsellor.”
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.
Okay, can I just talk about this comic series for a second? This has got to be the most hilarious comic series I have ever seen. This is AJ & Magnus, a Calvin and Hobbes inspired comic series about an adopted kid, his talking dog, and his 2 gay parents. The humor is really good, very quick and to the point. This series is beautiful, please, give them your love!
“How,” Foggy says, voice pitched higher and breaking, standing in front of the mirror in his bathroom, “do I have braces again. What kind of fucked up magic is this.”
“I think it works on memories or something,” Matt says, leaning against the door behind him. “Do you look like you did when you were thirteen?”
“Yes,” Foggy says, shortly.
“…can I touch your face?” Matt asks, hopefully.
“No,” Foggy says. “I’m sure you never had an awkward phase, but mine was from the ages of twelve to–whenever I die, probably.”
“I had an awkward phase,” Matt says, defensively, stepping forward to stand next to Foggy. “I had to grow into this nose.”
Foggy sighs.
“I hate that you’re taller than me right now,” he says. “I don’t know why, but it makes me really mad and like I want to punch a pillow and listen to, like–Saves the Day.”
“…I’d offer you a hug,” Matt says, patting his shoulder, “but I can kind of, uhm–smell. That it might be weird.”
Foggy’s fingers clench on the sink.
“I don’t even have control of my boners anymore,” he says, faintly, before he goes to lay facedown on his bed and pretend like this isn’t happening.
oh my god, they were roommates 