This is definitely law school era–the phrase “mock trial sex bet” just occurred to me, and yeah, I think this is definitely that one. Matt and Foggy drunkenly make a bet that whichever one of them wins a mock trial gets a blowjob from the other, and refuse to back down from this bet when sober. Gee, wonder why?
I’M FEELING THIS
“Yeah, sure,” Matt says, distracted and dry, accidentally more focused on the sound of the couple having very vocal sex down the hall than Foggy, whose ego gets bigger the drunker he gets. “If you beat me, I’ll blow you.”
Foggy gets quiet and Matt catches up to his own words, mouth falling open.
“I–I mean,” he says. He might’ve been influenced by the guy getting sucked off on the other end of the hall. He’s not sure what it says about them that they’re here drinking alone while everyone else is hooking up.
And that he just offered to blow Foggy, apparently.
“Deal,” Foggy says, surprisingly firm.
“…deal?” Matt echoes.
“I win, you blow me,” Foggy says.
“And if I win?”
“Uhm, I blow you, I guess,” Foggy says, more hesitant when he adds, “Deal?”
The thing is that Matt’s drunk. And straight. And he still kind of wants to just get on his knees right now because it sounds interesting, because he’s never done it before, because he’s also heard what Foggy sounds like when he’s getting sucked off and it’s–
It’s.
Interesting.
“We can just forget it,” Foggy starts, because apparently Matt’s taken too long to imagine what it would be like to suck his best friend’s dick and has made this whole thing awkward, but Matt shakes his head.
“No,” he says, with all the confidence he can find inside himself. “Deal.”
Matt thinks about losing on purpose but he hates losing. And he’s not even sure why he’d want to lose, because winning would mean winning and also getting a blowjob that would be pretty amazing based on the things that Matt’s heard.
He loses anyway, and he’s only a little upset about it because Foggy’s going to be an amazing lawyer and he’s his best friend and he’s proud. And–well, watching him work doesn’t exactly make the idea of having Foggy’s dick in his mouth less appealing.
Which is new.
Outside the classroom, they stand silently until Matt says, “Congratulations?”
“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Thanks.”
“Uhm,” Matt says, eloquently.
“Uhm,” Foggy agrees.
The following silence makes Matt contemplate jumping out a third floor window and scaling his way down to run away forever, but eventually the sound of Foggy shifting uncomfortably on his feet makes him says, “So, I think I owe you something.”
“Oh my god,” Foggy says, laughing. “You really don’t have to.”
“I’m a man of my word,” Matt says, as calmly as he can, taking Foggy’s arm, tugging him gently toward the elevator.
“You’re not even into guys, Matty,” Foggy says. “Are you?”
All signs point to Matt being into Foggy, a feeling he hasn’t quite been able to name before faced with the possibility of having sex with him because he’s stupid and oblivious and–straight? But–Foggy’s a guy.
“Can’t hurt to try,” he says, shrugging.
Foggy laughs again, a little more desperately.
“You really don’t have to,” he repeats.
“Fog,” Matt says, leaning into him as the elevator doors close. “I want to.”
“…oh,” Foggy says.
Matt spends the ten minute walk back to their door half-listening to Foggy talk about anything that isn’t what’s about to happen and strategically planning what’s about to happen. Foggy could be standing or on his back or sitting on the bed or his desk chair, maybe, and Matt–
Matt would be on his knees. His brain kind of falters there but it’s because the thought goes straight to his dick.
oh my god, they were roommates 