have some foggy/luke i shall never finish
Foggy’s met Luke a few times, incidentally, usually because he’s carrying an injured Matt back to his apartment like a limp ragdoll—they’ll have a quick conversation and Luke will go back out to make sure that Jessica “Never Met a Fight She Wouldn’t Begrudgingly Fight” Jones and Danny “I Can Kick Anything” Rand didn’t get in trouble while he was gone.
This time, Foggy went out on a date with a girl Marci set him up with and fell asleep before he got an I made good choices tonight and did not die text from Matt, which was an obligatory part of them being friends again; when he wakes up, brain fuzzy and only vaguely aware that it’s the middle of the night, he looks at this phone and realizes that he’s gotten no texts at all.
It’s probably nothing. Matt’s forgotten a few times, then called Foggy in the morning to apologize and declare that he was living and still had at least most of his limbs. Foggy’s got an uneasy feeling in his stomach, though, partially from drinking too much wine and a single terrible kiss but he’s pretty sure it’s also because of Matt’s radio silence.
He doesn’t answer the phone when Foggy calls—once, then twice—which leads Foggy to haul himself out of bed and into jeans and a hoodie before he walks over to Matt’s place—namely, Matt’s empty place, no sign of him, his bed still made.
“If you’re dead, I’m gonna kill you,” he murmurs, to Matt’s empty bedroom, before he climbs the stairs to the roof and finds Luke Cage sitting on the edge of the building. He looks up when Foggy walks towards him, giving him a wane smile.
“Looking for Murdock?” he asks.
“Did you push him off the roof?” Foggy asks. “I wouldn’t blame you—I want to do it, too, sometimes.”
Luke’s smile lights up a little when he laughs.
“I was on watch duty,” he says. “Claire stitched him up earlier and I was supposed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.”
“Let me guess,” Foggy says, cautiously sitting next to him, making sure he’s got a firm grip on the ledge before he lets his feet dangle. “He did something stupid.”
“I don’t even know how he got past me,” Luke says, half annoyed and half amused. “He went back out to finish what he started. Jess was already in the thick of it, so she’s gonna make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”
“Why didn’t you just bring him to me?” Foggy asks. “I know all his tricks.”
He doesn’t even let Matt go to the bathroom by himself if he looks like he might ditch common sense in favor of jumping off a roof with a head wound. Privacy isn’t a thing when you’re clearly pretending that you don’t have a concussion.
“He told us that you were on a date,” Luke says, “and not to bother you.”
“That’s sweet,” Foggy says, dryly. “FYI, in the future, call me anyway.”
“That was my first instinct,” Luke says, shaking his head and smiling, looking straight ahead over the city before he turns that smile on Foggy, who smiles back and grips the ledge a little tighter, because wow. “I’ve gotta start trusting that.”
“You probably have the best instincts in your little, uhm, threesome,” Foggy says, unable to come up with a less indecent word.
“That’s not saying much,” Luke says.
Foggy laughs, says, “Right.”
They settle into the uncomfortable silence of two people that know barely anything about each other until Foggy finally says, “You can head out, if you want. I’ll wait for Matt.”
“Told Jess I’d meet them here and we could debrief and steal Matt’s beer,” Luke says. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“…yeah, sounds good,” Foggy says.
Luke smiles again and Foggy’s momentarily glad that Matt’s not here to hear his heart.
oh my god, they were roommates 