Sometimes Foggy thinks they’re too old to still play Truth or Dare. Not that it’s possible to outgrow everyone’s favorite drinking game. It’s just that they have known each other for ten years now, and there simply comes a time when all the dares have been dared and all the truths have been. . .asked. All things being equal, that time was in the middle of their second semester at Columbia, when everyone learned that Matt was shameless and his dares, while ultimately funny, had a way of sending people to the hospital.
It prompted a bit of a rule overhaul in the law department — “the Truth, or nothing but the Truth” is much funnier, anyway. It’s Karen’s turn right now, and she delights in it in a way that only someone who works at a law firm can.
“The truth, or nothing but the truth?” she asks Matt, mock seriously. They are all pretty drunk already, so Foggy can enjoy the sight of Matt relaxed for once. He looks all but poured into his chair, one hand loosely clasped around his glass and the other resting under the table.
“Nothing but the truth,” Matt returns with a grin and Foggy groans. Karen just giggles and sways a bit in her seat.
“Okay then. Who of our current clients would you have sex with?” Karen asks gleefully and Foggy just braces himself for the worst. He sinks further into his chair and is abruptly reminded of why he has avoided playing this since their big reveal/biggest argument to date.
“Nothing but the truth, huh,” Matt says thoughtfully and Foggy wonders if he can flee before Matt embarrasses him to hell and back. Because that, right there, is the aim of the game. Embarrass the other players into hiding their faces behind their drinks. And now that Foggy knows that Matt knows whenever he gets a little hot under the collar, the embarrassment is pretty instantaneous.
“I wouldn’t mind fucking Mr. Monroe. Or maybe going down on him,” Matt explains. He’s completely straight faced. First rule of selling someone a load of bullshit, keep a straight face. It’s not nothing but the truth if you can’t keep a straight face. “He has a great voice. I’d love to make him scream.”
Foggy barely holds in a whine at the idea — Mr. Monroe really has a nice voice — and for a moment he wonders if Matt can still hear it vibrating in his throat. He takes a quick drink while Karen nods sagely.
“He is rather cute,” she agrees easily. “Though I think he’s a little old.”
“Just means he’s got more experience,” Matt returns casually. He always does that. Plays the bisexual card when Foggy can’t be sure he means it. When it’s truth and they ask about celebrity crushes Matt will pick girls without a moment’s hesitation. But when it’s “sell us your most outrageous story,” there’s guys everywhere.
Foggy’s pulse is still a bit quick when Matt turns to him.
“The truth, or nothing but the truth?”
“Nothing but the truth,” Foggy returns and maybe he’s a little more drunk than he first thought if he thinks he can out-embarrass Matthew Michael Murdock. Next to him Karen squees in excitement. She is absolutely horrible at selling stories with a straight face, but she loves watching them do it.
“What is the most public place you ever had sex in?” Matt asks with a grin that’s mostly teeth. For a moment Foggy thinks about going with the truth after all. The tree house in his aunt’s backyard would make for a good story. But then he remembers that Matt will actually know if he’s telling the truth. And that’s more embarrassment than he can take.
“The L&Z lobby,” he lies instead. “Marci got out of a meeting early and I had a bit of time before I was expected back upstairs, so she took me behind one of those ugly ass ferns and let me eat her out.” Karen is looking at him with wide eyes, hanging on to his every word while Matt just sprawls in his chair and looks completely unfazed. “I went upstairs still with her taste on my lips.” A faint shift in his seat. Yeah, that bit of actual truth got him. “Of course she didn’t have time to return the favor, but then again Mrs. Zack is nothing but an instant boner killer.”
It lightens the mood immediately, and while it doesn’t help to embarrass Matt, it makes him smile and that’s almost as good.
“That woman’s voice could strip paint from the walls,” he agrees and Karen just laughs along on general principle.
It’s Foggy’s turn now, and he already knows what he wants to ask Karen. But, before he can open his mouth, her cell goes off. Traitor that she is, she even checks it, and then downs the rest of her drink in one go.
“Sorry, guys,” she says while shrugging into her jacket, “something’s come up. See you tomorrow.”
And before they can protest she’s already out of the door. Foggy isn’t sure if she’s lying and for a bitter moment he thinks that Matt likely knows. Or maybe she just wanted to get out of her turn, because she really does suck at it. It doesn’t stop Foggy from glaring at Karen’s retreating back for a moment longer before he turns back to Matt.
“The truth, or nothing but the truth?” he all but spits. There’s a reason why they haven’t played since the big reveal. And a reason why Foggy started asking Karen and hasn’t switched even though the rules allow it.
“Truth,” Matt returns evenly and for a moment Foggy is at a loss. Matt never goes in for the truth. Or at least not when he’s this drunk. Foggy licks his lips and takes a deep breath to steady himself.
It’s late enough that, with Karen gone, they are pretty much alone in their corner. The lights are as dim as always and Foggy can’t help but feel somber. Matt looks like his mood has changed as well. They are still pretty sloshed, but they both make an effort to appear more alert.
He almost, almost asks about the Daredevil thing. But that’s an argument they’ve rehashed more than enough.
“What’s something you always wanted to tell me but never did?”
It’s not quite the Daredevil thing. But from the way Matt blanches under his light drunk flush there’s something there. Foggy feels his stomach sink when Matt takes a drink and then refills his glass from the bottle they keep on their table.
“I’d really like to have sex with you,” Matt rushes out. Before Foggy can process it, before he can even think about responding, Matt adds “The truth, or nothing but the truth, Fog?”
“Nothing but the truth,” Foggy returns and he is well aware that it’s a cop out. But he is just not ready to give Matt the truth in return.
“How would you like to have sex with me?” Matt asks, and Foggy is well aware that “not at all” is a valid answer here. It would even qualify as a load of bullshit. But he can’t do that. Not when Matt put himself out there. Unfortunately, he can’t be completely honest, either. That would be against the rules.
“Very sweetly. Lights off and all,” Foggy is slurring a bit. “It would be a wasted gesture of course, but still. Lights off, under the blanket, missionary position. The whole nine yards.”
It’s a good middle ground. Because Foggy hasn’t had vanilla sex a day in his life. He doesn’t even have vanilla fantasies. No, Franklin Nelson had kinky fantasies before he even knew what sex was.
Matt snorts and has to steady himself against the edge of the table before he laughs himself straight off the chair. Okay, it wasn’t one of his best lies, but it wasn’t like Matt gave him much of a choice. Foggy still waits until Matt is done laughing at him and has instead pillowed his head on his crossed arms before he challenges him.
“Nothing but the truth,” Matt returns. He’s still chuckling faintly and Foggy can’t help but grin, too.
“Very well, Murdock. How would you like to have sex with me?” he shoots back before he can think better of it.
“I’d like to go on my knees for you,” Matt says carefully and Foggy just bets he’s listening intently to whatever Foggy’s body is doing. “And then you’d put your hands in my hair and tell me just how you want me to suck your cock. And you’d hold me in place and fuck my face.”
His voice is steady, calm, and unfortunately it does nothing for Foggy. Sure, the idea of Matt’s lips wrapped around his dick is enticing. But the rest just, isn’t. Then he remembers that this is nothing but the truth and his heart skips a beat. It’s a bit like the story with the kid who always did the opposite of what his parents told him. So they took to telling him the opposite of what they wanted. So he’d do what they wanted.
Foggy takes a sip of his drink, only to find his glass empty. He swallows hard and glares at it and wonders if Matt wants him on his knees. If he wants to bury his hands in Foggy’s long hair and make him choke on his dick. Or maybe he just wants to put Foggy on his knees and tell him in detail how to suck Matt’s cock. Foggy wouldn’t be opposed to either.
“The truth, or nothing but the truth, Fog,” Matt says and Foggy thinks there’s a bit of the devil in his voice. A hint of the growl that just comes naturally whenever Matty puts on the mask. Foggy can’t help but shiver.
“The truth,” Foggy answers and his heart beats right out of his chest.
“Do you want to come home with me so I can fuck you?”
Foggy barely holds back a whine at the idea. It goes well with his mental picture, but he has to be sure.
“Only if you promise that you’ll be in charge,” he hedges and Matt gives him another one of those patented Murdock grins. A little mischievous, a little serene, and able to make Foggy’s heart beat faster every time.
“I’d not have it any other way, Foggy,” Matt promises and pushes to his feet. Foggy gets up quickly as well, and then has to grab the table as a wave of dizziness rushes through him. Apparently he is more drunk than he expected, but before he can sit down again Matt has shuffled around to his side of the table and wrapped his arm around his waist.
“I’ve got you,” he promises. Foggy closes his eyes to lean into him.
“Okay, yeah, let’s go,” he says and straightens up. “Just, if I’m still this drunk when we get to your place, fuck me tomorrow?”
His voice is soft, nervous, but Matt just nods and picks up his cane with one hand. The other arm is still wrapped around Foggy, who puts his own around Matt’s waist in return.
“Sure thing, Fog. Let’s just get you home first and then we’ll see.”
His voice is still deep, and Foggy is fairly sure it’s intentional. A way to keep Foggy relaxed and docile. It isn’t quite the Daredevil voice, Foggy realizes, and not the court voice either. But it’s still full of authority. Authority and care and Foggy wants to curl up and just have Matt keep talking to him. Matt’s arm tightens around him when Foggy tries to sit down right then and there.
“Not yet, Foggy,” Matt tells him and keeps him upright with brute strength. “Keep going. One foot in front of the other.” And it’s definitely an order, so Foggy does it. Keeps his eye open to see where they are going so that Matt won’t fall. The ground is shaking under his feet, but Matt keeps talking to him. Quiet instructions murmured into his ear, little bits of praise that make Foggy weak in the knees.
“Are you still too drunk?” Matt whispers against his ear and Foggy shivers. Matt still has one arm wrapped around Foggy’s waist, but he’s leaned the cane against the wall so the other is free to come rest against Foggy’s chest.
“No,” Foggy returns, just as whisper-soft. “Or, at least, I don’t think so…” he admits. He’s more steady on his feet, sure, but that might just be the chill talking. Plus, he has no idea how steady Matt is on his feet.
But he’ll trust his partner to know what he’s doing. Which, right now, means unbuttoning Foggy’s coat.
“I think you’ll be fine,” Matt decides and Foggy shivers under his hand. “Is there anything I should steer clear of tonight?”
Matt is working on his shirt buttons now, though the coat is still hanging on his shoulder. Matt’s other arm is also still firmly wrapped around his waist, so Foggy can’t do more than squirm in Matt’s strong hold. A whine breaks free when Matt’s cold fingers stroke over the naked skin at the hollow of his throat.
“Just. . .nothing complicated tonight,” Foggy tells him. “No blindfolds or gags or stuff like that. Maybe. . .” he licks his lips. “Maybe handcuffs or something, unless you want to hold me down. Or you could just tell me when to keep still. No pain. No humiliation.”
Not that he’d mind a good spanking every once in awhile. But Matt asked about tonight, and tonight they’re both drunk enough and new enough around each other that that’d just be stupid.
Matt nods his agreement and leans in to mouth at Foggy’s neck. Foggy lets his head fall back and groans, content to let Matt play and keep him upright. He knows Matt can hold him up, but he still makes sure his legs stay straight. Even though Matt does his best to make him go weak in the knees.
Cool fingers are pulling Foggy’s shirt from his pants so they can rub tiny circles on his lower stomach, never quite dipping underneath his belt but close enough to make Foggy shudder and arch into the sensation. Matt is mouthing his way up to Foggy’s ear and Foggy dutifully tilts his head back and to the side to give Matt better access.
Matt groans, bites at Foggy’s neck, and the fingertips finally slide underneath the belt. “So good for me, Foggy,” Matt growls. “So eager.”
“Matt,” Foggy groans and tries to push his hips up. Matt holds firm though, keeps him pinned with the fingers just a hair's breadth from his cock. He can’t help but whine, but it doesn’t help. Instead, Matt pulls his hand away and Foggy slumps in dismay.
“Matty,” he whines, but Matt just chuckles and places a kiss on his cheek.
“It’s okay, Fog. Just take off your coat and come to the bedroom,” he orders. Foggy almost falls on his ass when Matt steps back. He manages to catch himself against the door, but he feels lost now, unmoored without direct contact.
Barely a foot away, Matt is taking off his coat, toeing off his shoes. He knows his own apartment inside out, doesn’t need a cane to get around. For a moment Foggy stands and watches and wants. The lights are still off, but the billboard is more than enough to put Matt’s outline into sharp relief. He’s still wearing his red glasses, his button down and his slacks. He doesn’t even look drunk. Foggy’s throat is dry and he swallows thickly.
“I said take off your coat,” Matt tells him sternly and the words are enough to send Foggy scrambling. He’s lucky his coat is already unbuttoned. And that he’s been in Matt’s apartment enough that he barely needs to glance at the hook to hand up his coat. Toeing off his shoes is almost an afterthought and then he’s walking across the cold floor to where Matt has vanished into the bedroom.
Matt is already naked. Foggy’s mouth waters at the sight, bruises be damned. He’s much more interested in Matt’s cock anyway, hard and inviting. His blood is rushing in his ears and he is painfully aware of all the little signs of arousal he’d normally ignore. The flush of his skin, the light sheen of sweat, the way his breath is coming more quickly. And the knowledge that Matt is hearing and smelling all of it just makes him react more strongly.
“Come here,” Matt tells him, and Foggy is more than happy to comply. His shirt is sliding down his shoulder, so he shrugs it off. Chances are he’ll curse himself tomorrow when he has to iron it, but that doesn’t matter. Not when Matt is right there in front of him.
They are standing chest to chest, only the thin cotton of Foggy’s undershirt separating them, and every time he inhales, or Matt inhales, Foggy can feel their chests press against each other. Matt has taken off his glasses, and it’s weird to see the skin around his eyes up close. Matt’s eyes are unfocused as well, but Foggy still feels drawn to them, even though it’s weird that Matt can’t look back.
Matt’s hands come to rest on Foggy’s hips in a firm grip, holding Foggy right where he wants. On his next inhale, Matt rolls his hips. The feeling of Matt’s hard cock against his thigh makes Foggy whimper, and when he pulls back Foggy tries to follow, strains against the hold that won’t let him escape.
Matt chuckles and leans forward into a kiss. A real one, on the lips, and Foggy doesn’t even hesitate to kiss back. Matt kisses the way he argues, all sweet and reasonable but also completely cut throat. Foggy caves without even a token protest. He might even moan a little, vibrations traveling up to his lips. They make Matt growl in return and press more firmly. One of his hands is in Foggy’s hair now, tangled in the strands and holding onto his head so that he can’t back away. All he can do is lean into it and open his lips when Matt pushes forward with his tongue.
Having someone else’s tongue in his mouth is as weird as always, but Foggy has no intention to deprive Matt of one of his senses. Instead, he puts his hands on Matt’s naked waist and strokes the skin there softly. He insisted that Matt be in charge, so Foggy submits to this as well, lets Matt explore until he pulls back to just mouth at Foggy’s cheek again.
“You okay?” Matt asks softly and Foggy can feel his insides melt a bit.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he returns easily. Matt’s fingers are combing through his hair now. The soothing touch does wonders to Foggy’s neck and shoulders. Matt’s other hand is at the small of Foggy’s back now, pressing them together. For a moment, they simply lean into each other and breathe. It’s weird, not being able to read his partner’s eyes, to judge their state of arousal by them. But it also means he doesn’t have to worry about Matt judging him. At least not for his looks. Maybe for his heartbeat, which is slowing down somewhat as they rest.
“Still feel like fucking?” Matt asks and Foggy’s heart picks up speed again. The idea alone already makes him groan. He hasn’t been fucked in what feels like forever. He nods eagerly and then tells Matt he’s nodding, which earns him a deep chuckle.
“I felt it,” Matt assures him. “Now stand still so I can undress you.”
“Yes, sir,” Foggy answers easily, more out of habit than anything else. Matt stills and, for a moment, Foggy thinks he’s screwed up. Then Matt pulls him into a tight embrace and growls against his ear. Foggy tilts his head back and Matt’s teeth come down on his throat, leaving another bite mark. His tongue comes out to play as well. He’s tasting you, Foggy’s brain helpfully supplies and the thought makes Foggy go weak in the knees.
“Say it again,” Matt demands and this time it is pure dom voice. Hard and unrelenting. Foggy licks his dry lips.
“Sir,” Foggy breathes out, and it sounds even better this time. His voice doesn’t really change when he’s subbing, but his speech patterns do. A bit more languid, no longer lawyer precise. “Please, sir.”
Matt groans again and then pulls back slowly. The cool bedroom air against his chest makes Foggy shiver. His nipples pull tight and he has no idea how Matt knows, but his hands come up to pinch them through the fabric.
“Please what, Foggy?”
For a moment Foggy considers saying “please everything,” but that would be rather poor manners. “Please bend me over your bed and fuck me?” he asks instead. It’s the most urgent item on his list, but if Matt would rather hear him beg for something else Foggy can totally do that, too. Like sucking Matt’s cock. He’d totally be game for that, too. But, from the way Matt’s hands are running down his back to cup his ass, Foggy doesn’t think that’s on the menu tonight.
“You don’t sound sure about it,” Matt teases. His hands are still on Foggy’s ass, groping him and keeping their crotches pressed together almost uncomfortably. It leaves little doubt in Foggy’s mind that Matt wants it, too. So Foggy takes a deep breath and tilts his head and lowers his eyes. The little tricks will, of course, be wasted on Matt, who can’t actually see them. But training is training, and who knows what Matt’s senses will pick up, so he takes a deep breath and goes for it.
“Please, sir,” he says demurely, “please bend me over your bed and fuck me, sir.”
He makes sure to keep his voice firm. Makes it a statement and not a question, and he dearly hopes Matt will notice that. From the way he smiles, Foggy thinks he’s done well.
“Stand still,” Matt orders again and Foggy does. It’s weird, standing there and just letting himself be undressed. Normally, it’s frantically ripping off each other’s clothes, or Foggy stripping while his dom watches. If they actually want to do that. Foggy even knows how to make it good, how to tease a bit, but not too much. Of course those skills are wasted on Matt, who wouldn’t hear anything past rustling clothes.
So instead Foggy does his best to stay still and give Matty time to explore. Because that’s what he’s doing. Sure, he’s also pulling Foggy’s undershirt off, but after that his hands roam over Foggy’s chest and back, fingertips dancing over his skin. It makes Foggy blush, the attention Matt pays to every little imperfection, and there’s a lot of those to find.
It reminds him a bit of the one ill-advised time he let Matt touch his face so he’d know what he looks like. Back then it had felt weird, to sit there fully clothed while Matt touched his face with a little frown of concentration on his face. It had felt weird, submitting to Matt like that, when they weren’t fucking. Maybe it would be different if Matt touched his face now. Or maybe some other time.
For now, Matt’s hands slide over Foggy’s ass again. Foggy gasps and forces himself to stay still. He fists his hands and doesn’t even try to hold in a whine when the hands slide to his front and come to rest framing his hard cock. Let Matt hear what he’s doing to Foggy if he can’t see it.
Nimble fingers undo his belt and unbutton his fly, but Matt carefully doesn’t touch him. Foggy doesn’t look down, but he knows he’s tenting his underwear obscenely, another visual Matt is, sadly, deprived off. Who knew how much looking was involved in sex, Foggy thinks. He chokes on air when all of a sudden Matt goes down to his knees in front of Foggy. That so absolutely wasn’t part of the plan. But really, what can he do? Tell his dom not to get on his knees because it might lead to premature ejaculation?
Foggy’s hands ball into fists and he forces himself to look at the white silk sheets Matt likes. If he looks down to determine how close Matt’s face is to his dick — and, from the feeling of hot air, he must be pretty close — he’ll come. Matt inhales deeply. Matt’s scenting me again. The thought sends a blush spreading down Foggy’s chest in angry splotches. It also makes his dick twitch and Matt chuckles.
Matt’s hands are pulling off his socks now and Foggy doesn’t dare reach for Matt’s invitingly strong shoulders to steady himself. If he starts touching now he’ll not let go. He balances as well as his residual buzz allows, which is just enough to not topple them both over.
When both his socks and slacks are pushed off to the side Matt’s hands run up the inside of his thighs again. Foggy helpfully spreads his legs, but Matt stops before his hands actually touch Foggy’s briefs. Both palms are flat against Foggy’s thighs and Matt pushes them outward steadily, until Foggy actually has to reach for his shoulders to keep his balance. It puts Foggy in a slight bent, with his hands braced on Matt’s shoulders and Matt’s hands on Foggy’s thighs, holding onto him in return. Looking down Foggy can see just how close Matt’s face is to his cock, nose almost touching the fabric. He can’t help but try and push his hips forward, cross the distance to rub himself against Matt’s face. Not that Matt allows it. His hands are better than any restraint system Foggy ever tried and his shoulder’s are rock solid. Matt tsks and it makes air rush over Foggy’s cock in short bursts.
“Please,” Foggy whines and tries to be good. But Matt’s hands are turning now and just the tips of his fingers are slipping under the elastics of his briefs. Fuck, Matt isn’t even touching his dick and Foggy feels ready to come. “Please, Matt, sir,” he keeps begging and his fingers might be putting more bruises into Matt’s shoulders from how tight he’s hold on. Matt just keep inching his fingers along the seams of Foggy’s briefs, around the front of his thighs, and Foggy isn’t sure but Matt might even be slowing down. His pleas are more of a whisper now, a constant whine, thighs trembling because he tenses them so much to keep in place.
Matt chuckles and then everything seems to happen all at once. Matt’s hands both push completely beneath his briefs to grab his ass, pulling the material taut over his cock and pinning it. Matt follows and mouths at it. Foggy whimpers and holds on tightly. He’s fairly sure his nails are breaking skin now, but he can barely focus past the feeling of Matt’s mouth on his cock, tongue trailing wetly over the cotton so that Foggy has to fight to stay upright on his spread feet.
“Matt,” he whines and feels his knees give out. Of course Matt catches him, strong hands settle more firmly on his ass and break his fall so he ends up on his knees with Matt’s lips on his collarbone and his hands still on Matt’s shoulders. “Sir, please,” Foggy begs and his hips twitch even if there’s nothing to push against, only Matt’s hands to press back into. Matt just laughs darkly and licks a line up Foggy’s collarbone.
“Get on the bed,” Matt orders and it’s unfair how unaffected he sounds. Sure, he might be breathing a little heavier, but compared to Foggy, who feels absolutely wrecked, it’s nothing. Instead of complaining, Foggy tries to organize his limbs. He has been given an order and, if there’s one thing Foggy has always prided himself on, it’s his ability to please his partners by doing what he’s told. Matt helpfully clears the way, so all Foggy has to do is let himself fall forward to be on hands and knees. Already he feels more steady and if Matt’s moan is anything to go by the sounds of Foggy on all fours is enough to even the playing field a little.
It’s maybe two feet to the bed, but it still feels like forever until Foggy is kneeling on sheets that feel like heaven. For a moment the two just breath heavily and Foggy isn’t sure what Matt is doing because he isn’t moving and he can’t exactly enjoy the sight Foggy makes. Maybe he’s listening to Foggy’s blood race in his ears or maybe he’s trying to determine how wet Foggy’s briefs are. Or maybe he just wants to make Foggy wait and squirm. All things are equally likely and every one of them makes Foggy want to squirm more.
Finally, the bed dips on his right and, when Foggy tries to turn his head, Matt grabs his hair. Foggy doesn’t even try to hold the moan in, just arches into the touch and lets Matt push his head into the sheets. He ends up with his face turned away from Matt and Matt’s hand heavy on his neck. It’s not enough to constrict Foggy’s breathing, but it’s heavy and there and, when Matt’s left comes to rest on Foggy’s ass, he arches up into it with a needy groan.
Matt chuckles and leans down to place an unerring peck on Foggy’s shoulder-blade.
“Be good,” he tells him and Foggy just pushes his ass up more and vows silently to be so very very good. Because if Matt doesn’t fuck him soon Foggy will be very, very bad and jerk himself off. So it’s better to just show his eagerness and tempt Matt into hurrying the fuck up.
“Yes, sir,” Foggy gasps out and finally, finally Matt takes hold of Foggy’s briefs and pulls them down. They catch on his dick and Matt just keeps pulling until the elastic slips and smacks his thighs. Foggy yelps and, behind him, Matt groans. Foggy tries to imagine what that sounded like to Matt, if Matt could feel the vibrations of the impact travel through Foggy’s thighs. The idea makes his cock twitch and prompts him to squirm a little more in an attempt to help Matt get the briefs down past his knees and then off completely.
Finally they are both naked, and Foggy can’t help but spread his legs more and arch his back. He knows what he looks like right now, has had it described for him plenty of times, with dirty little endearments that he wouldn’t mind hearing right now but that Matt doesn’t know he’s allowed to say. Maybe next time. As it is, Matt’s hand slides up the inside of Foggy’s thigh again, rubs for a moment where the elastic snapped — is the skin hotter there? Can Matt feel a welt or something? — and then slides up all the way until his fingers press against Foggy’s asshole.
It’s a dry pressure, but if it weren’t for the order to be good Foggy so would fuck himself back onto them. He can take the burn, would welcome it even, because it means that Matt will finally fuck him instead of just teasing. But he’ll be good. He’ll be so very good and wait for Matt, whose right hand is now resting between Foggy’s shoulder blades. His left is similarly at rest, just pressing lightly against his ass. Again, Foggy wonders what kind of sensory cues he’s collecting that way.
Can he feel the muscles in his ass twitch under his fingertips? Feel the skin heat under his palm because Foggy blushes like nobody’s business whenever he’s made to wait for more than five seconds? Both ideas just make him blush more. He can feel the heat spreading over his arms and lower back.
“Fuck,” Matt breathes out, “you are so hot, Foggy. Stay just like that,” he orders and then both hands leave him. The mattress shifts again and Foggy fists his hands in the sheets so he won’t be tempted to move.
Maybe he arched his back a little more, because, when Matt returns to the bed with slick fingers, they end up on his balls.
“I told you not to move,” Matt frown. It makes Foggy shrink a bit, which has the added benefit of dragging Matt’s fingers right up to his hole.
“Sorry, sir,” Foggy says contritely. And he really is sorry. He knows Matt needs things to be in specific positions to get around. It makes his life easier and allows him to work more efficiently. And right now Foggy is one of those things too, something Matt has put into a specific place so that he can easily find it again when he wants it. The thought makes Foggy groan and if he could he would totally show his appreciation of Matt’s possessiveness by pushing himself back onto those fingers. But he’s already moved without permission once and he won’t make that mistake again. So instead he stays and begs. “I’m sorry, sir. Won’t do it again.”
Matt just kneels behind him and listens. His fingers are barely pushing against Foggy’s hole, so Foggy keeps going. “Please, sir,” and “I promise I’ll be good,” fall easily from his lips. “Please fuck me, sir,” makes Matt’s breath catch and the fingers press a little more firmly, so Foggy continues along that vein. “Fuck me, sir. Please, use me, I promise I’ll be good just please, please, fuck me.”
With every word the fingers sink in a little deeper, two at once spreading him out in ways he hasn’t been fucked since at least three exes ago. His words taper off into moans when Foggy feels Matt’s other fingers pressing into his ass.
There’s a moment of stillness where Foggy fights the urge to squirm until Matt gives the okay. “Go on,” Matt says teasingly. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, Foggy. Show me how good you can be for me.” And that’s pretty much all the motivation Foggy needs. With a groan, he tightens his hold on the sheets, tenses his thighs and pulls himself forward before he sinks back onto Matt’s slick fingers. There’s a bit of a burn, but not enough to deter Foggy from pulling forward and pushing back again. Matt even helpfully twists his fingers a bit and adds lube as needed until his fingertips are brushing over Foggy’s prostate.
The pleasure is intense and, mixed with the groans from Matt behind him, they’re enough to get him begging again. For more and harder and for Matt to fuck him for real. He’s close again, orgasm just a breath away when Matt decides to move again. Matt pulls his fingers out so when Foggy tries to impale himself again he’s met with cold air. He whines and buries his face in the sheets. The silk has no texture, not like the usual cotton that will scratch his cheek and forehead and give him some relief while he fights the urge to reach down and touch himself.
“Sir, please, please,” Foggy begs shamelessly, “just fuck me before I lose my mind.”
Matt laughs at that and runs his hands down Foggy’s back to hold his hips still.
“Am I making you crazy, Foggy?” Matt asks lowly. He’s leaning down over Foggy so his breath teases at Foggy’s neck and his cock rests against Foggy’s ass. It feels like the sweetest torture and Foggy dearly hopes that Matt put on a condom.
He can’t quite feel it through the slick and the idea of bare-backing makes his breath catch in a not so good way. Not because he doubts Matt’s meticulousness in his sex life. More because he knows Matt gets other people’s blood all over himself almost nightly. He knows he is tense, tense and nervous and Matt has to feel it because a moment later Matt has dropped down to blanket Foggy completely. His chest is pressed to Foggy’s back, and his lips rest on Foggy’s shoulder, and his hands draw small circles on his hips instead of holding on tightly.
“Everything alright, Fog?” Matt asks softly. It’s not his dom voice, just pure Matty, dork extraordinaire and it makes Foggy breath easy. He nods slowly and turns his head so he can try for a kiss that lands on Matt’s cheek.
“Yeah, perfect,” and he isn’t even lying because this is pretty close to a wet dream scenario. “Just…are you wearing a condom right now?” For a second he thinks Matt will laugh at him, or scold him or something. But instead he nuzzles closer so he can press a real kiss onto Foggy’s lips — no tongue, thankfully. Just lips on lips and Matt’s nose against his cheek.
“Yes, Foggy,” Matt assures him and reaches off to the side. Foggy has to brace himself to keep them both up because Matt seems to have no intention to support his own weight. There’s some feeling around where Foggy can’t see and then Matt is showing him the empty wrapper. With a sigh, Foggy feels the last of the tension leave him again. Matt drops the wrapper into the sheets and kisses Foggy’s neck before he straightens again. “Now where were we?” Matt teases.
“You were about to fuck me, sir,” Foggy supplies and helpfully arches his ass up to give Matt some friction.
“Ah yes,” Matt agrees, his voice dropping into the deeper register again. “That.”
He is holding on tightly again, making Foggy be still so he can position his cock and push in steadily. Foggy moans and throws his head from left to right. His hands clench in the sheets to give him something to hold onto while Matt keeps sliding in.
“Matt, Matt, please,” Foggy gasps. He has hair in his mouth now, and in his eyes, sticking to his lips. Foggy can’t focus enough to work it out, though, because Matt has finally started moving and he doesn’t stop. He barely allows Foggy to enjoy the stretch before he’s pulling out again, just as steady but not quite as slow. Matt holds Foggy in place and pulls back until it’s just the head inside and then he pushes forward again. No break, just motion.
The rhythm builds and Foggy can’t do anything but hold onto the sheets and moan like a whore for Matt. Not that he minds. It feels amazing, hard thrusts that rock the bed and Foggy tries to beg, he really does, but each thrust just drives the air from his lungs in moans and gasps.
After all the teasing he’s already endured, it doesn’t take more than a few of those for Foggy to come. His entire body tenses and he is grateful for the durability of Matt’s sheets because they hold steady even when Foggy pulls tight. Matt, that asshole, actually stops fucking him while Foggy shudders through his orgasm. He just pushes all the way inside and stills.
Foggy’s breath is coming in exhausted gasps when the tremors finally subside. Matt whines when Foggy pushes back tentatively, which is all the encouragement Foggy needs to rock back a little more firmly. He’s feeling pleasantly sore already, but Matt is still hard and Foggy won’t have that.
“You sure?” Matt asks. Foggy doesn’t really want to speak right now, so he simply keeps rocking and whimpering softly. Matt finally takes the hint and picks up his pace again.
“You are so amazing, Foggy,” Matt gasps out, “so good for me. Letting me fuck you even though you’re all hot and sore.”
Foggy isn’t sure where those words come from now, but Foggy sure won’t complain. Foggy blushes again, because apparently Matt Murdock can feel how sore he is through a rubber and plenty of lube.
“You’re such a mess, perfect for me,” Matt continues.
Foggy just moans and sprawls more on the sheets. He makes a token effort to keep his ass up, but mostly he lies there and lets Matt’s words wash over him. They aren’t enough to get him going again, but they allow him to coast on his mental high until Matt comes, too, deep inside Foggy.
Matt topples them over to the side, neatly avoiding the wet spot and curling around Foggy’s back. The sheets are cool under his side, but Foggy just pushes back into the embrace and closes his eyes.
For a while, they just lie on the sheets and share body heat until Matt pulls back and sits up. With a frown Foggy turns over onto his back, chasing the warmth.
“Stay,” Matt tells him. “I’ll just get something to clean up,” he adds and gets to his feet.
“Yes, sir,” Foggy whispers and shifts a bit to get under the sheets. Getting cleaned up is a sensible idea, but Foggy still hates it with a passion. It means separation and coldness, so he curls up under the silk sheets and lets them trick him into thinking Matt is still there.
Foggy is fairly sure his body gives his distress away, because it’s barely half a minute before Matt is back, sliding under the sheets so he can wrap himself around Foggy’s back again. He’s gotten rid of the condom at least, and when Foggy turns around to hug Matt he doesn’t hesitate to hug back. Foggy might be whimpering just a little.
“Shh, you’re alright,” Matt whispers against his hair, “you did so well for me, Foggy. Just relax.”
It takes a few minutes for Foggy to calm again and he’s a little embarrassed, but he fights back the instinctive urge to apologize. He just pecks Matt’s shoulder and loosens his hold a bit. “Thanks, Matt. That was really great,” he adds, because it needs to be said. Foggy is fairly sure he hasn’t had such a great scene since his ill-fated relationship with Marci, and Matt barely even did anything to him.
“It really was,” Matt agrees. His hands are trailing down Foggy’s back in an easy caress and Foggy can feel himself dozing off already, though Matt’s next words bring him back a bit. “Would you like to do it again?”
“Definitely,” he agrees. He moves in closer so he can push Matt onto his back and use his chest as a pillow — it’s rather bony, but will do for now. “We should talk more, too, about what we want. But not right now. Right now, it’s time to sleep.”
“Tomorrow then,” Matt agrees easily and then shows off his superior upper body strength by manhandling Foggy until they are both more in the center of the bed with a pillow wedged between Foggy’s cheek and Matt’s shoulder. Much better. Foggy burrows close and puts his arm on Matt’s chest so he can’t run off into the night. It barely takes a minute until Foggy is sound asleep.