Surprisingly, they weren't flat-out drunk when Foggy brought it up. Matt had known it was coming, had known since the the moment Foggy had started to talking to him again. But he’d kind of thought - hoped - that’d it’d take place in an atmosphere like Josie’s.
They weren't entirely sober, though, just barely on the edge of tipsy. Foggy had turned up at Matt’s door with paperwork and a racing heart that made Matt sure his friend was remembering finding him half-dead. He felt more than a little bad about that, but he knew it’d make matters worse to mention it, so he’d gestured him in. He offered a beer that Foggy had actually accepted, slumping down onto the sofa and not seeming to mind when Matt joined him.
They talked about their case: another unlawful seizing of property, but nothing so upsetting as what happened with Fisk. It was casual, comfortable, even if Foggy’s heart was still fluttering a little faster than normal, like he was psyching himself up to say something. That something happened when Matt sat back down with a second bottle for them each.
“Hey, Matt, about the lying thing…”
There it was. Matt tilted his head for Foggy to continue, taking the cap off his beer.
“I was thinking, you know, about how it totally wasn’t cool of you to not tell me about it-“
“No, but,” said Foggy, “It puts us on an uneven playing field. Like, you knew I was lying about a bunch of stuff - stupid stuff, like my first time with Marci, and you never said a word. But you knew.”
“Yes,” said Matt, remembering when Foggy had entered the dorm, smelling of sweat and sex and Marci’s perfume swearing, on his life, that they’d just been studying. That he had a date with that girl from the coffee shop coming up (another lie), and he wouldn’t sleep with Marci even if she paid him. Matt knew he was lying, but had never been able to work out why. Not until weeks later, when a drunken Foggy had apologised over and over again for “sleeping with the girl you like” and Matt remembered telling Foggy he thought Marci had an attractive voice in passing.
“Well, I never knew when you were lying about stuff.”
“That’s true,” said Matt, “But you know the whole truth now, Fog, I promise.”
“And you’ve also promised to be one hundred percent honest from now on.”
“Yes,” said Matt again.
“So tell me all your white lies,” said Foggy, “all the ones you can remember since we met.” He felt the air shift as Foggy sat back, obviously pleased with his plan to make them even.
Matt chuckled, “Not to sound rude, but it’s a long list.”
Foggy jabbed him in the side, “I knew you weren’t full of Catholic honesty, Murdock. I knew it.”
“Ok, ok,” said Matt, shifting to get comfortable, “Where do I start?”
“Anywhere,” said Foggy, opening his own beer, “Or the beginning. What was the first lie you told, other than the enhanced-senses stuff?”
Matt snorted, “That I couldn’t tell you hadn’t showered.”
Foggy did laugh then, clapping Matt on the back. “Ouch, harsh. Next?”
“That I can remember?” said Matt, “I think I told you to go easy on me, since I couldn’t handle my alcohol.”
“I remember that!” said Foggy, “And then you drank me under the table on the very first night. When did you actually have your first drink, again?”
“Nine,” said Matt, smiling at Foggy’s indignation.
“Nine,” he repeated, “Honestly. Ok, skip ahead to when we were better friends. Think of a big one.” Matt’s heart leapt in his throat. He had a few. But Foggy wasn’t asking about lies by omission.
“I told you I’d smoked weed before when I hadn’t,” offered Matt, leaning back against the sofa to realise Foggy’s arm was lying across the backrest.
“I worked that one out pretty quickly, funnily enough,” said Foggy.
Matt thought for a moment,“When you asked if you snored I said no.”
“Dammit, Matt,” said Foggy, “you left me to find out the truth from Marci.”
“I was trying to be a kind roommate, since you couldn’t exactly stop it,” he said, shifting a little closer so he leaned a little more comfortably against Foggy’s arm.
“Did I keep you awake?”
“Super-sensitive hearing, buddy.”
“Glad to know your ridiculous powers come with some downsides,” said Foggy, “What else? Ever lie about something really stupid?”
“I actually like Karen’s coffee.”
“What the hell,” said Foggy, tone incredulous. “Why? It’s grainy.”
“I don’t know, it doesn’t taste any different to me.”
“Does Karen know this?” asked Foggy, and Matt could tell when he shifted he was turning to look at him directly. Matt continued to face ahead, a smile playing on his lips.
“That I like her coffee? Yes.”
“So you lied to me why?”
Matt felt the thrum of Foggy’s laughter and started to laugh as well.
The confessions went on. Matt liked Foggy’s mother’s casseroles. He didn’t take sugar in his coffee, but when Foggy had asked that first time he’d said yes by accident and didn’t know how to back out. He actually had preferred Foggy’s hair longer. He had no strong opinions on fax machines or bees.
“Wow,” said Foggy, shaking his head, “I just shook my head, by the way. You’re a disgrace, Murdock. You let me talk you into keeping bees when we retire. That was meant to be a joint dream.”
Matt shrugged, “I barely remember what the damn things look like.”
Foggy punched Matt lightly on the arm. “But that’s it, right? There aren’t any big things left you’ve kept from me?”
Matt swallowed, and Foggy sighed. “What is it?”
“I may not be able to read heartbeats but I can tell when you want to say something, too, you know. So what is it?”
Matt fiddled with the bottle cap in his palm. “I told you I was hooking up with various fictional girls when I was actually pulling all-nighters at the library.”
He’d always thought Foggy had known the truth about that, but from the little victory dances going on on his right, apparently not.
“I knew it. I knew it! No-one can snatch that many dates. Who was real, then?”
Matt thought about it, “Catherine,” he said finally, “that girl from Spanish - Adila, was that her name? That girl who collected Barbies… and, uh let me think… Rachel?”
“That’s all?” asked Foggy.
“Of the ones I told you about,” said Matt, figuring if this was honestly hour it’d be counter-productive to lie any further. Foggy’s next - obvious - question came a moment later.
“Who didn’t you tell me about? Did you - did you hook up with somebody I liked or something?”
Matt shook his head, “No, no. They weren’t anyone you knew, I don’t think.”
“Then why keep them secret?”
“Because - um, they were guys.”
There was a long pause in which Matt listened to Foggy’s breathing accelerate dramatically and wondered if Foggy might be about to shout at him. Then he swallowed loudly.
Matt cringed, “Yeah.”
“So, really, the biggest lie you told was that you were straight.”
“Never said the word straight,” Matt tried, but Foggy’s arm slithered off the top of the couch and landed in his lap. Matt had the distinct impression that his reactions were being carefully watched.
“Not sure why you’d keep that from me, dude,” said Foggy. His tone was more serious than it had been all day.
“I was hardly going to react badly. You know I’m not exactly a gleaming example of heterosexuality.”
“I know, Fog, I was-“
“Is it because you’re Catholic?” asked Foggy, “Is that why you keep it hush-hush? Because you know I support you having God whole-heartedly but if Father whats-his-face is telling you it’s another thing to feel guilty about I’m not sure you should still be going-“
“No, he’s fine with it. He objects more to the whole masked vigilante thing, funnily enough.” Matt tried for a laugh, but it sounded false, hallow. He could tell Foggy was upset. He didn't need enhanced senses for that.
“Then why, Matt?”
“It’s… difficult to explain.” Which was, definitely, the wrong thing to say, because he heard Foggy slam his beer onto the floor beside the sofa, leaving the gap between the two of them much bigger than it had been. “Foggy, come on…“ he said.
“I thought we were doing truths,” he said, his voice laced with hurt. Matt wanted to reach out, pull him close, but one hand remained on his beer bottle. The other was now clenching the cap hard enough to pain him. “But you won’t even tell me this.”
“It’s not-“ Not what? Not personal? Only it was, that was the whole problem, “Not something you’d like to know,” he settled on.
“Oh, come on, that is bullshit,” said Foggy, “I’m hardly going to recoil in horror, what do you take me for?”
He couldn’t stand Foggy sounding so betrayed. Not again, so soon after the last time, so he put down his own drink. “I didn’t want to tell you, specifically, because I didn’t want you to freak out that I found you really, y’know… attractive.”
Outside, there were sirens wailing. On the floor above, two people where having a heated argument while a child overheard. Two blocks away, someone was crying. In the room Matt was in, Foggy was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.
“Well,” he said eventually, “I can’t say I blame you, Matty, we established pretty early on that I’m a specimen of male physique.” The usual humour, but his voice wasn’t quite stable. After a moment, he gave up the pretences. “Christ, Matt,” he said.
“Sorry for not telling you,” said Matt.
“No, thats- thats ok. Wait, no, it’s not, obviously, but I forgive you? Yeah. I forgive you.”
Matt’s lips quirked, “For thinking you’re hot?”
“Not that, obviously,” said Foggy, swatting him on the arm, “Wait, hot?”
Matt dropped his head, “Yeah. I mean, obviously I can’t see you, but after you let me map out your face…”
“And I’m guessing, due to your freaky senses, you’ve been able to tell I’ve been thinking the same this whole time?”
Matt thought back to when they’d first met. Yeah, Foggy had all the typical signs of attraction Matt had gotten pretty good at noticing, but it had never been something he’d let himself linger on. Physical attraction didn’t always mean anything, after all. “I guess,” he said eventually.
He heard Foggy lick his lips, “So - er - why didn’t you do anything about it?”
At some point, Foggy had moved closer without him noticing, because Matt could feel the heat of his body again. It was a little distracting.
“Well, attraction isn’t a good basis to start-“ he paused, “I didn’t know if you were just attracted to me but still only thought of me as a friend, or-“ No, not right either.
Foggy had all but stopped breathing. “If I hooked up with you I wouldn’t have wanted it to be just a hookup,” he settled on.
Foggy surged forward, knocking Matt sideways, enveloping him in a bear hug and burying his face in Matt’s shoulder. Matt hadn’t been anticipating fast movements, hadn’t prepared himself for them, so it took him completely by surprise. He sat rigid for only a second, though, before wrapping his own arms around Foggy’s shoulders and squeezing tight.
“Hey,” he said softly, “What is it?”
“You goddamn idiot, Murdock,” said Foggy, his voice muffled by his shoulder. “You brainless, self-sacrificing fuckup.”
“Thanks?” said Matt, perplexed.
Foggy raised his head from Matt’s shoulder, “I’m going to kiss you now, alright?”
“Wait, what-“ Matt was silenced by Foggy’s mouth, warm and wet and tasting a little of beer, crashing into his own. The angle was all wrong. Their teeth clacked together at first and then Matt’s glasses dug sharply into the bridge of his nose, meaning he had to pull away to take them off. Foggy started giggling, and Matt threw the offending lenses onto the ground. “Try again,” he said.
“Sure?” said Foggy, “Sure it’s ok? Because I should point out that I’m not going to want to stop at kissing.”
“No?” said Matt, adjusting himself so his torso wasn’t twisted awkwardly like it had been when Foggy hugged him. Foggy, incidentally, was still essentially draped on top of him, and when he spoke Matt felt his breath on his cheek.
“Nope. I might even want to take you out on a date.”
“Really, now?” said Matt.
“Start a relationship.”
“All those not-just-a-hookup things.”
Matt sought out Foggy’s lips again, with a little more success this time. “I was an idiot, wasn’t I?” he asked.
“You’re always an idiot,” said Foggy, kissing him. “It’s cool. I won’t hold it against you.”