Foggy keeps having moments with Matt’s twin.
Normally awkward, somewhat hostile moments in the office or Matt’s apartment but lately they’ve involved some subtle touching and sly looks and other things that Foggy has grown to know as either flirting or fake-flirting in order to make him sad. That was only in high school, though—and possibly now.
He convinces himself that it’s all a joke or possibly an evil plot until they run into each other in the hallway in Matt’s building, have a brief snarky conversation, and then Evil Murdock looms over him with a smirk and says, “If you ever want to try doing this in the dark, Mr. Nelson. . .you know where to find me,” before walking past him to the elevator.
Foggy stands in exactly that spot for somewhere between one minute and the next twenty-four hours.
He’s pretty sure that one was genuine.
Evil twins are supposed to go away within a limited amount of episodes, a short arc until they get killed off in a dramatic struggle or disappear into the darkness, never to be seen again until the writers are short on material. Foggy’s mom was a soap opera enthusiast. He knows these things to be true.
Matt’s twin has been here for two straight weeks and it feels like longer.
If this was a soap opera, Foggy would be forced to decide which Matt was the real Matt using the power of love and probably shoot the imposter or—maybe push him off a cliff, like in that movie where the kid from Home Alone was a tiny psychopath. Either way, cinematic death scene and then real Matt and him would probably make out.
If you asked him two weeks and a day ago if he’d murder someone for the opportunity to make out with Matt, he would have taken a little too long before he said no but he would’ve said no.
If you asked him right now, he’d say that he’d do it for a beer and a peck on the cheek.
“He’s staring at me,” Foggy says, turning to look at Matt who raises his eyebrows.
“He’s also blind,” he says.
Murdock is sitting across from them at the conference room table, a slight smirk on his face, his eyes trained disconcertingly close to Foggy’s face just like they have been for the last five minutes.
“Are we sure about that?” he hisses.
“You want to check his pupils?” Matt asks.
Matt’s become disturbingly blasé about this whole thing, considering he hates his doppelganger even more than Foggy does. They’re spending half their time on their actual work—with Murdock operating as kind of a free agent since they’re relying a little too much on the twin-ness to let Matt be in literally two places at once and because of course he’s a great fucking lawyer—and most of the rest trying to figure out interdimensional time travel, which isn’t going well because Karen’s the only one of them that’s any good at math and she hung up on Foggy when his opening line was, “Hey, Page, want to help us figure out how to open up a portal to a different universe so we can get rid of Matt’s evil twin?” and has been working from home ever since.
“No,” Foggy says, huffing. “I don’t want to get that close to him.”
“That’s probably good,” Murdock says, smiling with teeth. “I bite.”
Foggy gapes at him.
He’s—definitely not interested in that.
“I got through to someone at Stark Industries,” Karen says, as soon as she slides into the booth in front of Foggy in the diner. “As soon as I said something about doppelgangers and alternate universes, I got shuffled around to a bunch of different very excited scientists and—long story short, I can get you an appointment with someone Tony Stark adjacent pretty much whenever.”
“Not enough crazy shit happening in New York for them?” Foggy asks.
“No aliens,” she says. “No rapturing. No hunky gods. Wow, I miss Thor—do you miss Thor?”
“Having, like you, never actually met Thor,” Foggy says, “. . .god, yeah, I miss his face.”
“They don’t make ‘em like that here,” Karen sighs, reaching for a sugar packet to add to the coffee that Foggy ordered for her. “Okay, back to my point—should I make an appointment?”
“Matt’s convinced that Tony Stark will figure out that he’s Daredevil immediately and tell the government,” Foggy says, laughing. “or something like that. He gets all shifty every time I bring it up.”
Karen shakes her head.
“Of course,” she says, taking a long drink. “You know, this might be a larger phenomenon and not just the universe trying to fuck with Matt specifically—has he considered that?”
“Are you saying he’s not special enough to cause a rift in the space-time continuum all on his own?” Foggy asks, although he also hadn’t considered that. Matt just has so many problems.
“I am saying that it might be for the greater good for you to bring this to someone who might actually know what to do about it,” she says.
“You make a very adult point,” he says. “Are you sure you won’t come back to the office?”
“As soon as there is only one Matt Murdock on this earth,” she says, reaching out to pat his hand, “I’ll be there with bells on.”
There’s only one Matt in Matt’s apartment when Foggy gets there for dinner and it’s not the Matt he wants.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” he asks, sighing as he shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up.
“What would you do if I did?” Murdock asks.
“Give me some time to think about that,” he says, walking over to sit the bag of Chinese take-out on the coffee table and sit down on the couch a couple of feet away from him. “I don’t have to enact revenge very often.”
“Fair enough,” Murdock says, huffing out a laugh. “He ran out to rescue someone or something. He does that a lot, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Foggy says. “It’s kind of his thing—what about you? What’s your thing?”
“I told you,” Murdock says, like he’s amused. “I’m a lawyer.”
“Sure, okay,” Foggy says, “but I know Matt Murdock and there’s always some other bullshit that I have to contend with. What’s your bullshit? Because I feel like you definitely have murdered at least one human.”
“I’m a simple man,” Murdock says, turning and licking his lips in a way that makes Foggy’s breath catch—which, okay, actually is kind of like a soap opera. “Not much to talk about. Why don’t you tell me about yourself, now that we’re alone? What’s going on between you and—this version of me?”
“Uhm, nothing,” Foggy says, feeling extremely weird about it. “We’re friends and have the firm and—I mean, I’ve bandied around the term heterosexual life partners, but it hasn’t stuck.”
“Well, it’s not true, is it?” Murdock asks, suddenly sitting right next to Foggy.
“The life partners part?” Foggy asks, softly, staring at Murdock’s mouth.
Matt’s mouth. He should move away. Possibly to, like, another state.
“The heterosexual part,” Murdock says, smiling.
“Matt probably is,” Foggy says, ducking his head. “I have no evidence otherwise.”
Murdock traces fingers through Foggy’s hair before lifting his chin up.
“If it helps,” he says. “I’m not.”
Foggy opens his mouth to say something but then he’s being pressed up against the back of the couch and kissed, so purposeful and hot that he lets it go on for too long, kisses him back until his brain overrides how much he wants to have his dick touched right now and he can push him away and say, “Fuck, stop, I can’t—I can’t do this.”
“You definitely could,” Murdock says, clearly pleased with himself, sliding down lower and sitting back against the couch after Foggy stands up, “and I’d make you scream, but—it’s all up to you.”
Tempting isn’t even the right word.
“Tell Matt that I—had to fight bad guys,” he says, heading for the door before he turns around to grab the food first because he paid for it and needs to eat his feelings. “Order a pizza or something.”
It’s worse now that it’s an open invitation, because Murdock ramps up the flirting and Matt still gives no signs of wanting to make out with him and Foggy spends all of his time imagining what they could do together. Murdock’s sharp and mean. He always imagined, if the stars perfectly aligned and Matt maybe lowered his standards, that sleeping with Matt would be sweet and gentle and—lovemaking, basically.
Murdock would fuck him.
“We have to talk to one of Stark’s people,” he says, after Murdock leaves the office one afternoon. “This situation isn’t going to fix itself and maybe they can—stick him in a lab somewhere. Experiment on him.”
“Has he done something to you?” Matt asks, frowning.
“Done—no, no, nothing has been done to me,” Foggy says, “but he’s a dick and I miss Karen and I want things to go back to normal.”
“Normal?” Matt asks, lips twitching.
“Our normal,” Foggy says.
“I’ve got some leads,” Matt says, with an obnoxiously perfect puppy dog face. “Just—give me one more week.”
“. . .fine,” Foggy says, shoulders slumping. “I’ll tweet Neil Degrasse Tyson again.”
Matt steps forward to pull Foggy into a quick hug.
“Thanks, buddy,” he says, rubbing his back before he lets go.
Foggy makes a weird, conflicted noise and excuses himself to have a silent panic attack in the bathroom.
Foggy’s knocking on Matt’s door after midnight. Murdock’s been living on Matt’s couch since they can’t exactly afford to put him up in a hotel for an indeterminate amount of time and he looks ruffled and sleepy when he opens the door.
“Is Matt out?” Foggy asks.
“Yeah,” Murdock says, yawning, and then Foggy stops giving a fuck about anything and kisses him.
Murdock makes a surprised noise but kisses back gamely, pulling Foggy close and into the apartment, shutting the door so he can push Foggy up against it.
“Come to your senses?” he asks.
“Just fuck me,” Foggy says, and then he wakes up.
He sits up slowly, alone in bed.
“Fuck,” he says, emphatically.
“Can you keep something a secret?” he asks, on Karen’s couch the next night.
“It’s girl’s night,” Karen says, handing him a glass of wine before settling down next to him. “My eternal silence is implied.”
“I love girl’s night,” Foggy sighs, then, like ripping off a band-aid, “I think I want to fuck Matt’s clone.”
Karen’s silent for a solid five seconds.
“Couldn’t you just fuck Matt?” she asks, squinting at him when Foggy looks at her.
“He’s straight,” Foggy says. “Don’t you have evidence of that?”
“Matt and I never actually fucked,” Karen says, laughing. “Things got kinda hectic, if you remember—with the ninjas and stuff.”
“Right,” Foggy says, huffing out a laugh and taking a drink.
“Is the twin hot?” she asks.
“I mean, he’s Matt but, like,” Foggy starts, taking a second to conceptualize him, “meaner.”
“. . .in a hot way?” Karen asks, because she’s smart. She gets him.
“He kissed me,” Foggy says.
Karen sits up so abruptly that she almost spills her wine, making a strangled noise before she sits it on the coffee table and smacks Foggy’s shoulder, saying, “Excuse me? When?”
“A few days ago,” he says. “We were at Matt’s apartment while Matt was out doing his thing and—he’d been flirting at me for awhile and I thought it was just him being a dick but—he kissed me.”
“And it was good,” Karen says, grinning. “I can see it on your face.”
“Was Matt good?” Foggy asks. It wasn’t something he ever wanted confirmed from her but they’re on this weird equal ground now, in terms of kissing a Murdock.
Karen sits back and makes a scrunched-up face before she nods, smiling.
“Pretty good,” she says. “One of the only good things, actually.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Foggy says, sighing. “God, Karen, I know all signs point to this being a terrible idea, but I really want to do it anyway.”
“I’m drunk,” she says, like a warning, “but if you’re going to get Stark to disappear him anyway, it—almost seems like a waste not to do it.”
Foggy laughs and finishes his glass, sitting it down before he pulls her into a hug, saying, “I forgot that you’re a terrible influence when you’re drunk.”
“I’m just saying,” she mumbles into his neck, hugging back tightly. “You should get what you want sometimes.”
Foggy smiles and presses a kiss to her hair.
“I think so, too.”
The next morning, Murdock’s the first one in the office and he doesn’t have time to say anything before Foggy walks up and kisses him firmly.
“Come to my place tonight,” he says, “after Matt leaves.”
Murdock grins at him and slides his fingers into Foggy’s hair, tugging it gently when he kisses him and murmurs, “I want you naked and ready to take it when I get there.”
“Wow,” Foggy says, laughing breathily. “Okay.”
They linger close until Murdock says, “We’re not alone,” and kisses him one more time before walking off as Matt comes in.
“Hey,” Matt says. “I, uh—I got you coffee.”
“Thanks,” Foggy says, stepping forward to take it. “Are you okay? You look pretty dead.”
“Long night,” Matt says, smiling tightly.
“Yeah, the usual,” Matt says. “Hey, Fog—do you want to grab dinner tonight?”
“Oh,” Foggy says, surprised and a little guilty—they really haven’t gotten to be actual friends lately, even though they were getting back in the swing of it for a while. “I have plans, actually—maybe tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Matt says, after a moment, patting Foggy’s shoulder as he passes him. “Tomorrow.”
Foggy stares after him as he walks into his office and shuts the door behind him. He really doesn’t have time for Matt to be weird right now. He’s claiming his God-given right to be the weird one for tonight.
Foggy changes his sheets and paces around his apartment for maybe a straight hour before taking deep breaths and fucking himself with three fingers when he hears a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he gasps, not bothering to raise his voice.
Murdock’s already unzipping his pants when he walks into Foggy’s bedroom, says, “Tell me what you’re doing right now,” as he shoves them down so Foggy sees his erection bob up. The fact that he’s hard just from thinking about Foggy makes Foggy feel kind of electric, twisting his fingers inside himself and moaning.
“I’m fucking myself,” he says, when he can find his voice again.
Murdock pulls off his shirt and leaves it on the floor. Foggy wants to lick him.
“To get myself ready,” he says. “So you can fuck me.”
“Good,” Murdock says, climbing onto the bed. “Turn over.”
Foggy pulls his fingers out slowly and moves at the urgency of Murdock’s hands on him, moving him onto his knees and smoothing up Foggy’s sides, back down to grip him by the hips and rock forward so his dick slides against Foggy’s ass.
“Condom,” Foggy says, pushing back against him and waving a hand toward his bedside table.
Murdock makes an annoyed noise but doesn’t fight it and soon he’s pushing into Foggy slowly, letting him get used to it before he thrusts in hard, grunting low in the back of his throat.
“Risky to leave your door unlocked, isn’t it?” Murdock asks, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise. Foggy kinds of hopes that it does. “Anybody could walk in and see you being a little slut for me.”
“Eh, I’m not picky,” Foggy says, clenching his fingers in the sheets and lifting his hips up more. “It’s, uh—yeah, fuck—it’s weird hearing Matt’s voice dirty talking.”
“You like it,” Murdock says. It’s not a question.
“I like it,” Foggy agrees.
“How long have you wanted him to fuck you like this?” Murdock asks.
“College,” Foggy groans.
“Bend you over your desk?” Murdock asks. “Give it to you hard?”
“That’s one fantasy,” Foggy says, too distracted by what Murdock’s doing to him to let any other fantasies come to mind, to notice that someone’s at his front door until Matt’s calling out his name hesitantly.
“Fuck,” Foggy says. “Shit, get off me.”
“Or we could invite him to join,” Murdock says, grinding his hips into Foggy’s ass, but he pulls out slowly when Foggy reaches back to slap his arm so Foggy can wince and leverage himself out of bed, putting on a pair of boxers before he stumbles into the living room to see Matt there looking conflicted.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Matt says, automatically.
“I think it’s the same reason I’m here,” Murdock says, from the bedroom.
“. . .Matt?” Foggy asks.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, but—Foggy, why him?” Matt asks, with a wounded puppy face that tugs at Foggy’s heart. “Why not me?”
“You?” Foggy asks.
Matt hesitates for a second before he’s stepping in to pull Foggy into the most goddamn romantic kiss of his life, one that knocks the air out of his lungs until he pulls himself back into his body and kisses Matt back, gripping his waist because he’s worried he’ll actually swoon.
“Me,” Matt says, softly, stepping back slightly.
“I—I didn’t know you were an option, buddy,” Foggy says.
This is the strangest fucking night of his life and that’s really saying something.
“I can leave,” Matt says. “Leave you to—”
He gestures toward the bedroom.
“I don’t want you to,” Foggy says. “I—I want you. I always have.”
“If you’ll let me finish,” Murdock says languidly, standing naked in the doorway, “then I’ll get right on out of your way so you can cuddle and cry together.”
“Can I be in the room?” Matt asks.
Foggy swallows hard.
“Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”
Matt sits on the armchair in the corner of Foggy’s bedroom and Foggy’s on his back this time, spreading his legs and whining when Murdock pushes inside of him again.
“You like that?” Matt asks.
“Uh huh,” Foggy says, looking over to see that Matt’s hands are gripping his knees as Murdock starts to fuck him again, hips slapping audibly against Foggy with every thrust, bed groaning. “I like it hard. Fuck, yeah, just like that.”
“Shit, Foggy,” Matt breathes.
“Are you gonna—” Foggy starts, cut off by an involuntary moan. “Do you want to, too?”
“No more talking,” Murdock says, covering Foggy’s mouth with his hand for a moment before he pins him to the mattress by his shoulders and fucks him until he groans and comes inside of him, rocking into Foggy until he’s finished.
“Fuck,” Foggy says.
“Mmm,” Murdock says, surging forward to kiss him, biting at his mouth before climbs off of him and starts to find his clothes. “That was good, kid. Have fun with round two.”
Foggy lies there catching his breath until Murdock’s out the door.
“What is my life?” he says, softly.
“We don’t have to. . .” Matt starts, and Foggy laughs, stretching out before he gets out of bed.
“Shut up,” he says, grabbing a condom before walking over and kneeling in front of Matt. “I want you, okay? I want you more than him.”
“That’s actually really good to hear,” Matt sighs.
Foggy unzips Matt’s fly and Matt sits up enough that they can pull his jeans down enough that Foggy can wipe his hand around Matt’s dick and lean down to take it in his mouth.
“Oh, Foggy,” Matt breathes, hand settling on Foggy’s head. “Oh, fuck.”
After a minute or two of sucking Matt off, he stops to open the condom and roll it onto Matt’s dick slowly.
“You wanna be inside me?” he asks, climbing to straddle Matt in the chair, leaning down to rest their foreheads together.
“So much,” Matt breathes, leaning up to press their lips together.
“One thing first,” Foggy says.
“We’re calling Stark in the morning,” Foggy says. “Like, first thing.”
Matt’s face scrunches up a little bit but then he nods, murmurs, “You’re right. First thing.”
Foggy smiles and kisses him again, doesn’t stop as he adjusts until he can hold Matt’s dick again and sink down on it slowly. He’s sore but that makes it better somehow, infinitely better at the noises Matt makes when Foggy starts to ride him.
“Can I—can I tell you something?” he asks, looping his arms around Matt’s neck, dropping his head down.
“Sure,” Matt groans.
Foggy says, lips brushing Matt’s ear, “You’re way bigger than he is.”
Matt’s got the dumbest smile on his face when Foggy sits up to look at him.
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Foggy says, laughing, feeling so warm. “You are.”
Later, when Matt’s asleep in his bed, Foggy gets a glass of water and sits on his kitchen counter to call Karen, talking softly so he doesn’t wake him up.
“Hey,” he says. “We’re ready to call in the scientists.”
“Matt give up?”
“I kind of—bribed him,” Foggy says, kicking his heels a little, making a face at the wall.
“. . .with?” Karen asks.
“You know how I was going to sleep with the alternate universe Matt?”
“You slept with our Matt instead?” Karen asks, excitedly.
“. . .both,” he says.
“Both?” Karen repeats, loudly.
“I mean, yes, obviously,” she says, “but both? At the same time? What position?”
“I’ll tell you everything in the morning,” he says, hanging up while Karen makes anguished noises and hopping off the counter to get back in bed with Matt—his Matt.