here for the fun of it

Foggy smiles. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it, though. Sometimes I just don't want to take the long way around."

There's a shout and then a scream a few blocks away, and Matt listens, hears the sound of a knife hitting the ground.

"I have to go," he says, and Foggy nods. "Go home."

"You go home," he shoots back.

Matt deals with the stabbing, stops a guy from kidnapping a neighbor's kid in a nearby building, and almost gets shot by a kid with a paintball gun. It's about then that Matt calls it a night.

When he reaches his building, he ends up hopping down the fire escape instead.

"I thought I told you to stay out of alleys," he points out, and Foggy startles. He smells blood, though it's not a lot. It's just Foggy's hand. "What happened?"

"Oh, I got followed from the police station," Foggy says as Matt takes his hand and moves it around a little, listening for breaks. There's heat from inflammation, a scrape across the knuckle, but that's it. "I didn't want them to know where I lived, and I just sort of...ended up here after I ran. I didn't want anyone to see me go inside."

"Who was it?" Matt asks, nearly deafened by his own roaring blood, furious that anyone would go after Foggy.

"You know, they didn't show me any ID. But they were goon-shaped. Does that help?" Foggy asks, pressing his free hand to Matt's chest. "Hey, I'm fine."

"This time," Matt corrects tersely, and it hits him that he's still holding Foggy's injured hand. "You threw a good punch."

"Yeah. I had a good--coach? Is that what boxers have? Trainers? I don't--"

The roaring in Matt's ears finally goes silent when he kisses Foggy, and then he's hearing another heartbeat, rabbit fast, and realizes he's done the thing he's tried not to do for a decade. Before he can pull away and apologize and blame something, Foggy's hand goes from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer and kissing him back. It's the match thrown on the puddle of gasoline, because Matt's pushing Foggy against the wall and then he's getting flipped around while Foggy nips at his lip and grinds his thigh between Matt's legs.

It's stupid, one of the stupidest things Matt's ever done in a long list of stupid things going back his entire life. He's risking his friendship, his livelihood, his everything, but Foggy is everything. He tears his gloves off, burying his fingers in Foggy's hair and reaching for his fly.

"We really doing this here?" Foggy asks, but he reaches for Matt's fly, too.

"I'm up for it if you are," Matt replies, grinning.

"Do I not feel up for it?" Foggy shoots back, and Matt's fingers dip through the fly of his boxers, fingers tracing along the length of his shaft and carefully pulling him through.

"You feel up for--ow!" Matt protests, laughing when Foggy smacks his shoulder.

"Don't test me, I've got the bloodlust now." Foggy kisses his mouth and then his chin and sighs, looking down between them. "How do you kick people in the face in this? There's, like, no give."

"The stretch is in the crotch, not the fly," Matt says defensively. He lets go of Foggy and carefully pulls himself through the fly of his costume, and Foggy hits the pavement on his knees fast enough that Matt's hearing catches what's going to definitely be a bruise later. "Are you--"

Foggy pushes his hips back against the wall and licks over the head of his cock. "I'm fine, trust me. Just don't move."

Matt ends up curled over Foggy as he sucks his dick, because Matt is already sensitive, but it's Foggy. It's Foggy sucking and drooling and choking on him and squeezing Matt's hand and moaning so softly that Matt wouldn't be able to pick it up if he were anyone else. If he were anyone else, he wouldn't know that Foggy's leaking precum just from having his mouth on him or that he keeps flexing his other hand against his thigh like he wants to touch himself.

There's a noise that hits Matt's ear like a gunshot. Someone's walking down the sidewalk, tapping at their phone and listening to music in earbuds, and they're way too close to the mouth of the alley.

"Fuh-Foggy," he stammers, trying to draw in a breath. He taps his shoulder, and Foggy pulls off with a wet sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Upstairs. Someone's about to see."

Foggy stands, wraps a hand tightly around Matt and pumps him once before carefully tucking him back in. He zips Matt up and pats his bulge before taking care of himself. "See you there."

He ambles out of the alley, and Matt has to center himself before he climbs up to the roof. When he's inside, Foggy's already coming through his door, twirling the spare key.

"How fast can you get out of that thing?" he asks, setting his stuff down on Matt's island like he's there to have a normal conversation.

"Pretty fast," Matt says, coming down the stairs and taking his helmet off just as Foggy steps up to him. "It's, uh, easier than it looks."

His fingers thread through the sweaty hair plastered to Matt's head. "Show me."

Matt does, backing toward his room the whole time and hearing buttons and a zipper get undone just before Foggy's clothes hit the floor. By the time his costume's in a heap, Foggy is pressing him back onto the bed and kissing him.

"Should we talk about this?" Matt wonders.

Foggy noses along his neck. "Probably. Though I do know what your dick tastes like now, so maybe that ship has sailed. It's, like, halfway across the Atlantic already. If it helps, I've wanted you for a decade."

"Then we're on the same page," Matt says, wrapping his legs around Foggy's hips and arching against him. "So maybe we can do the talking after."

"Oh, thank Christ," Foggy says, and Matt huffs out a laugh. "Because I've got plans for you, Murdock."

Then he reaches down and runs his palm over the bottom of his cock, pressing it into his stomach, and Matt whines softly at the sensation. He feels flayed open and out of control, and it takes everything he has to narrow his senses down until it becomes easy because it's them.

"Matt?" Foggy asks, and Matt moans. "Can I suck your dick?"

Matt nods hard enough that he almost hits Foggy's head with his chin, but Foggy just slides back, kissing and biting his chest and torso on the way down. His hands grip Matt’s hips as he licks and sucks the spot where Matt's thigh meets his groin, and Matt hears and feels him inhale deeply.

"Oh fuck," Matt groans, reaching down to rest his hand on the back of Foggy’s head. Foggy pushes up into the feeling, and Matt grips his hair gently as Foggy holds the base of his cock and gives the head little licks. Matt wants to twist and beg, but he feels like he isn’t breathing, and he might not be. He might not be anything anymore other than where Foggy's touching him.

Foggy licks a bit lower, his tongue pressing just under the head, and his lips press against the head like a kiss. Just when Matt is about to start begging, Foggy moves his head down until Matt’s cock is about halfway in his mouth. It's a slow tease instead of the frenetic sucking in the alley, and it's somehow more overwhelming.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Matt whimpers as Foggy starts to move his mouth over his dick, because it might be the only word he knows anymore.

The hand that was holding the base of his dick moves, and Foggy starts sucking a bit harder, using his hand to stroke the part of Matt’s dick he can't reach. All that Matt can feel is pressure and the wet heat of Foggy's mouth, and he feels like he's about to start thrusting wildly but remembers his earlier warning not to move.

Foggy's thumb strokes a bit more firmly just under his bottom lip, and he pulls back until he's only sucking the head, his thumb rubbing the spot under the head of his dick so hard that Matt's entire body gets hot and he feels like his spine has gone cold.

"Foggy, please," he begs, gripping Foggy's hair a little again.

"Hmm?" Foggy hums curiously, pulling his hand off. He hitches one of Matt's legs over his shoulder, and Matt rolls his hips a little, feeling uncharacteristically shy about asking for what he wants. Sex is normally pretty easy for him, but this feels different.

That's not a problem, though, because Foggy presses his thumb against Matt's hole and pushes in just a little just as he sucks Matt's cock down to the base. Matt slams his head back against his pillow and cries out, but before he can cum, Foggy's pulling back. His thumb is moving in and out of his body, and Matt thrusts back into it.

"Fuck me," he begs, tugging Foggy up and kissing his swollen lips.

"Yeah?" Foggy breathes, and Matt nods. "Yeah, baby, I can fuck you."

Matt bites his lip and squirms until Foggy's dick is next to the thumb that's still fucking in and out of him. He feels hot all over, and he's never wanted to be fucked so badly. He's begged partners before, but he's never felt so owned.

"Matty, please tell me where I can find a condom," Foggy says, sounding strained. He thrusts a little, his dick rubbing across the rim of Matt’s hole.

Matt points in the general direction of his bedside table, and Foggy leans over to yank the drawer open. He gets a condom and the bottle of lube, opening the cap quickly.

"Cold," Foggy warns before pouring a bit on his fingers and thrusting one into him in place of his thumb.

"More," Matt begs, pulling one of his knees against his chest.

Foggy fucks two fingers into him, and Matt grinds back against his hand until a third presses in. A condom lands on his chest, and he opens it for Foggy before holding it out for him. He wants to be open already, he wants to feel Foggy inside him and keep feeling him long after they're done.

He hears the sound of latex rolling onto Foggy's dick, the slick sound of more lube, and Matt feels Foggy pull his fingers out and quickly press the head of his dick against his hole. He thrusts back against it as best he can in this position, and Foggy eases in.

"Oh, fuck," Foggy groans, pressing his hands to the backs of Matt's thighs. He pushes his legs a little wider, and Matt thrusts up so he can get more of Foggy's dick inside.

"Fuck me," Matt begs softly.

"'M gonna come way too fast, Matty," Foggy warns, thrusting deeper. "God, you're so tight."

Matt pulls Foggy down for a kiss and nudges his nose against his cheek after. "I don't care how fast you come, Foggy, as long as it's inside me."

Foggy huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, his hair brushing against Matt’s neck and shoulder and making his nerves sparkle like fireworks. "That's either the sexiest thing I've ever heard or the cheesiest."

"Why can't it be both?" Matt says, grinning. He wraps his arms around Foggy and grips his sides with his knees. Now that he's pressing down on Matt, the head of his dick is rubbing against Foggy's stomach, and Matt thrusts against him a little with a whimper. "Please."

Foggy shushes him quietly and sits back a bit as he pushes Matt's leg farther back. He pulls back and slowly sinks back in with a moan as his dick drags across Matt's prostate. Matt's eyes roll back a bit as he chokes out a gasp, and Foggy's free hand rests on the center of his chest briefly before going up to touch his face. Matt nuzzles against it a little until Foggy's thumb drags across his bottom lip.

"Matty?" Foggy asks quietly.

"Uh-huh?"

"What do you want?"

Matt feels a shiver go through his entire body, and he feels raw. He feels like Foggy is taking him apart, he feels like he can't catch his breath, he feels like he can't speak. He tries to, but he only gasps out a couple of syllable sounds.

"Oh, baby," Foggy murmurs, pulling out, which is the worst thing in the world as far as Matt's concerned. "Don't worry. C'mere."

Matt props himself up on his elbows, and he turns over with some prodding and encouragement until he's on his hands and knees. Foggy thrusts back into him, and Matt arches his ass back into him with a moan as he goes deeper than before.

"There we go," Foggy groans, sliding an arm under Matt’s chest and pulling him tight against him. "Yeah."

There's no way Matt’s going to survive this. All he feels is the sensation of Foggy fucking into him, how secure he feels being squeezed against Foggy, and how hard his dick is. Nothing else exists, and nothing else ever will. The sounds of the world are being drowned out by Foggy's breathing, his heartbeat, the obscene sound of him fucking into Matt, and his soft grunts of exertion.

Foggy slowly starts building up speed in his thrusts, and Matt arches back against him to meet as many as he can. He eventually has to push his face into his folded arms and just take whatever Foggy gives him, because he can't hold himself up anymore. As he does that, Foggy grabs his hips with one hand and his dick with the other, and Matt bites his forearm to keep in the wailing moan that's building in his chest as his orgasm is fucked out of him through the tight grip of Foggy's hand.

Just as he's beginning to go limp once he finishes cumming all over his duvet, Foggy wraps an arm around his chest again and fucks him with short, fast thrusts that send fire through Matt's spine and extremities. Foggy breathes against the back of Matt's shoulder and gasps out a few tight moans as he cums, and Matt wishes he had that extra feeling of Foggy's cum inside him.

After, they both collapse, and Foggy immediately rolls off Matt. He ties off the condom and drops it in the trash can next to Matt's bed. There’s a huge wet spot, and they both move away from it so that Foggy can pull Matt against him and kiss his shoulder.

"God," Matt pants.

"Right?" Foggy says, equally out of breath. "Holy shit."

Matt typically doesn't like too much cuddling, because his skin's too sensitive after he cums, but he needs to be close to Foggy right now. He turns onto his side, drapes a leg over Foggy's, and wraps an arm around his waist.

"Goddamn, Murdock," Foggy murmurs before kissing him. "I'd like it on record that we should've done this years ago."

"We'll make up for lost time," Matt says. "Because you're not wrong."

Foggy smiles and leaves a lingering kiss next to his nose. It's endearing and sweet, just like everything else he does. It tempers the frenetic feeling under Matt's skin a bit, but he still digs his heel into the soft pad of Foggy's ass and pulls him closer.

"No more alleys," he mumbles.

"What if there's a handsome, tough vigilante in it to keep me safe?" Foggy teases.

"Then listen to what he says," Matt says, nuzzling Foggy's cheek before kissing it. "Because he can't lose you."

"Well, then he needs to keep himself safe, too," Foggy says, his fingers digging into Matt's shoulder just a little more. "Because there's all that time we gotta make up for."

Matt presses their foreheads together. "Okay."

"Okay," Foggy agrees. "I want it on record that we're both agreeing to that. And I'm a lawyer, so I know how to enforce that."

"We're both lawyers. We're lawyers together," Matt points out, laughing.

"Yeah, but one of us is a better lawyer, because he's not breaking the law by beating up criminals in a bondage suit, no matter how pure the intentions or how nice his ass looks in it. Is the ass armored? I have a vested interest in the ass being protected," Foggy says, squeezing said ass and eliciting another laugh out of Matt.

"It's a Kevlar weave," he confirms. "My ass is protected."

"Good," Foggy says, squeezing it again and grinning when Matt shivers. "Yeah?"

"I'm sensitive," Matt protests.

"I know," Foggy says, grinding against him. "Does that mean you can get hard again?"

Matt's already getting there and nods.