Work Text:
There was a small chirp from Matt’s phone. He could sense a few heads turn his way, feel their disapproval, but most people were focused on the trial in front of them. He should just leave it. Who was even likely to be messaging him? None of his clients on his personal phone, unlikely to be one of his contacts during daylight hours. And it wasn't like his life was overflowing with other acquaintances.
He untangled his earphones and put one in, slid the jack into his phone as quietly as he could, still trying to pay attention to the proceedings. The screen-reader robot voice spoke.
Text from: Foggy Nelson
What the hell would Nelson want from him? They didn't have a case against each other coming up. He didn't have any information Nelson might want, not that he could think of, and he had, really, very little indeed that Matt might be interested in, very little at all. So really, he should focus on the case he was sitting in on. He shouldn't even open it.
He opened it.
Come to the storage closet down the hall from Pretrial Services now. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate.
What? As if he was going to drop whatever he was doing and come running when Nelson told him to. And without so much as an explanation.
_______
Standing in front of the storeroom, Matt leaned beside the door in a casual way and knocked quietly.
“Nelson?” Matt could hear his heart pounding through the wall but for a long stretch of silence there was no answer. For a second he thought this might be some kind of very strange and stupid prank.
Nelson breathed in and out slowly and then his voice came through the door. “Anybody else out there?” Matt waited a moment until he heard someone round a corner and move out of sightline. It was always quiet around here this time of day, Nelson must have known that. “Nobody now.”
The door opened. Without a greeting, Nelson took him by the wrist and pulled him into the room, shut the door behind them and locked it.
Matt registered the strong chemical smells of the supplies, the laundry/sweat/skin smell that identified the other man as Nelson. He smelled so good. Slightly different. What was that? “What the fuck is going on.”
Instead of answering, Nelson took Matt’s briefcase out of his hand and discarded it on the floor out of the way. He put his hands on both Matt’s shoulders and held him firmly against the door for a second. He sounded like he was gathering the nerve to say something.
He smelled like he always did when he was getting turned on.
Oh. Oh. That was what he wanted. Matt hadn't imagined for a second- and never out of the blue like this- that Nelson might want- that Foggy might still want-
“If I tried to make you do anything you didn't want, you'd beat me to a pulp and leave me for dead, right.” He didn't say anything else, and Matt took a moment to realize that this was a question. He swallowed, knowing full well that he'd scoop out one of his own eyes before he'd harm a hair on Foggy's head. Even now. “You're damn right I would! Of course I would.”
And then Nelson moved close, crowded him against the door, pressed his warm, soft body against Matt, pinning him there by the hips. He was hard, he must have been hard before he’d even opened the door. He ground the thick hot length of it against Matt’s body, grunting shockingly loud in the small space.
A hot thrill stabbed through Matt’s stomach, he felt his skin tingle and his breathing get deep. He was a little giddy from adrenaline already. His arm had wound round Nelson’s neck, who had moved closer until their lips almost touched.
They hesitated, warm breath smelling strongly of coffee, and then they were kissing bruisingly, Nelson like a dying man, Matt breathless and dizzy but kissing back just as deeply, just as rough.
Nelson was making soft urgent noises. He cupped Matt's face, dug his nails sharp into the back of Matt’s neck.
He pulled a few inches away, panting. “Get to your knees, Murdock.”
Matt was suddenly fully hard, painfully so. His heart was pounding, he could feel sweat stinging across the cuts between his shoulderblades.
There was no hiding his body’s reaction but damned if he was going to get embarrassed or coy at a time like this, in front of Foggy of all people. He arched luxuriously against the other man, making him gasp. “Rude. I don't hear from you for months at a time and you think you can just order me like a takeaway and then tell me what to do?”
A large hand threaded in his hair, and then shit, ow, what the fuck, because he was being pulled brutally to the floor. “Seriously? What the fuck!” Matt said. “Quiet.” Nelson said.
Matt knew from the warmth of his face that he had gone red. He tried not to think about how gently that hand had stroked through his hair, about a lifetime ago, or how easily he had just gone to the floor. Foggy must be staring at him. “Jeez.” He said, not looking up. “Somebody's impatient.” Then Foggy’s fingers were at his throat, undoing his tie, pulling it through his collar. “And bossy.”
“Give this to me.” Foggy was pulling off Matt’s suit jacket, tugging at each of his cuffs in turn and then taking it away by the collar. “Start undoing your shirt buttons.” And he fucking did. He could hear Foggy hanging his jacket and tie on a hook beside the door.
Without any warning he plucked the glasses from Matt’s face while both his hands were on his shirt, folded them and put them in Matt’s own suit jacket before he could do more than make a “Hey!” noise. Foggy bent over and impatiently pulled open a few more buttons, then he pushed the shirt down over Matt’s shoulders and down to his elbows, restricting his movement.
Foggy undid his flies and pulled out his dick, making Matt actually gasp despite himself. He produced a condom and tried the wrapper, crinkling at it for a long moment before cursing and biting it open. He hastily put it on and squeezed his own hard cock. Matt could smell him get a little thicker. His mouth fell open, watering.
Foggy stepped closer and put his other hand back in Matt’s hair, positioning his head like a barbie doll so he was facing up towards him. He rubbed the head of his dick against Matt’s sore lower lip, smearing the shape of his mouth, and then dipped his cock inside like he was making use of a sex doll. “Take it.” he said, almost absently.
Matt leaned forward and sucked on the throbbing tip, feeling his hair stirring as Foggy breathed out hard. And then he suddenly had a mouthful of latex, Foggy making a low helpless noise like he’d been hurt. His whole body was shaking, thrumming with something that seemed like ...panic?
He fucked Matt’s mouth. His hands became fists in Matt’s hair, gradually growing painful.
All Foggy’s focus seemed to be on moving steadily in and out of Matt’s mouth. But as he moved more quickly he became erratic, rough, apparently unperturbed by scraping against Matt's teeth, and then he was too deep, choking him. He kept pressing his dick hard against the back of Matt’s throat. Matt smacked at his hips, shoving him a little when he was unrelenting.
Then Foggy's body went rigid, unmoving, and then he pushed even deeper, making Matt gag, and then with a cry he started to come.
Now Matt really did push him away, spitting reflexively and getting semen all down his chest and shirt. The condom must have ripped. Nelson had sprung back, moved away from him entirely, but not before getting more come on his neck and chest. “Shit."
Their breath was loud in the silent room.
“Well.” Matt said hoarsely after a long moment, stung more by his own apparent pliability than by Nelson’s carelessness. The other man was panting still, holding a shelf for support, trembling so vividly that Matt could feel it in the air. “S-sorry." Foggy said.
Matt was bright with humiliation, ears and chest hot. He'd never been used like an object quite so blatantly. And annoyingly, if anything he was even more turned on from the maltreatment than before. Feeling Nelson move desperately inside his mouth, feeling him just do what he wanted without control like that. It was so unlike him. And it was fucking hot. “Someone was pretty desperate, huh.” He croaked.
Nelson turned his head away. “Shut up Murdock." he said quietly. But he was hardly paying attention, more preoccupied than truly mad. He was still strangely tense, even for this highly tense and extremely strange situation. Matt wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and spat again, feeling edgy from arousal and the silence. Nelson had put the tattered latex in the bin, was doing his flies back up.
“What would you have done if I hadn't come when you messaged me, jacked yourself off in this storeroom by yourself in the middle of the day? Pretty pathetic Nelson, even for you.” Foggy didn’t react at all, didn’t even acknowledge that Matt had spoken. Matt’s throat felt strangely tight. He had to cough to make his voice come out right.
“Hey, I forgot to ask, how's the wife?”
He was struck across the face, sharp, with Nelson's open hand. Okay. Now Matt was really fucking hard. Now his dick was starting to hurt badly. He felt exposed, shaken. The whole side of his face burned where he'd been struck. He finally pulled his shirt up off his shoulders and started doing the buttons up, ducking his head to hide his face.
Foggy finally spoke. “I said shut up, Murdock. And get up.” He was angry now, apparently. Matt actually laughed. “Get down, get up, Simon says suck my dick, what is this? What the hell has gotten into you?”
Foggy was pulling him up by the elbow, guiding his back against the door and finally palming his cock, making him moan shamelessly. He gripped Foggy's soft bicep, feeling the muscles move under his hand as Foggy worked him through his clothes. “Fuck.”
And then Foggy put his hands on the door on each side of his head, pressed close again, pressed his- was that an erection against him?
“Wait,” he said, and Foggy instantly froze, “are you hard again? How?!”
Foggy dropped his head onto Matt’s shoulder without moving away. “I'm still...” he said, muffled. “I don't know.”
Matt considered this for a second. “What the fuck is going on, Foggy?” He felt him sigh against his neck.
Foggy swallowed and raised his head. “Do you want to come or not?”
Matt waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. “I mean. Yeah. I do.”
“Okay.” Foggy whispered, almost to himself, grinding against Matt again, running a hand down his damp shirt to trace his abs and then sliding it round between Matt and the door to get a handful of his ass.
And then they were moving against each other, Matt clinging to his shoulders, carding shaking fingers through his long silky hair, one of Foggy’s thick, soft thighs between his own, the two of them kissing messily even though Matt literally had come smeared on his face and under his chin, Foggy pressing hot kisses along his jaw and down his neck, moving faster and rougher even despite the awkward angle, rattling the door lock in its frame, Matt helpless with waves of pleasure.
“You want me,” Matt whispered helplessly, “you want me more than anyone. Tell me you want me.” Foggy put a hand over his mouth, still moving against him, and clumsily smacked the back of Matt’s head against the door. And that was it, Matt was coming in his work clothes, gasping for air. A moment later Foggy bit down on Matt’s neck and came again, shuddering silently.
They clung to each other for a long moment.
Foggy stepped away. Matt let himself slide to the floor and after a second Foggy sat beside him, putting his face in his hands.
They were silent, and for the first time Matt thought to listen out for people passing in the hallway.
He tipped his head back against the door. He couldn't hear anyone right now, but who's to say that unsuspecting members of the public hadn't been startled away by the noise. They had not been quiet. It was miraculous a member of the janitorial staff hadn't come and found them.
He rolled his head to face towards Foggy, still sitting with his face in his hands. “Are you at least, you know." He gestured at him. "Done?”
Foggy hiccupped a laugh. “Nope. But it's bearable now. More bearable. I hope it's wearing off.” Matt paid closer attention to the other man, his heart rate unnaturally fast and irregular for someone who had just come twice in about ten minutes. His temperature was running quite high too. “What the fuck, Nelson?”
Foggy sighed. “I think I was dosed. By someone hoping to - ruin my reputation, or something. If this is what I think it is, someone’s trying to get revenge on me for a case I took years ago. Right after we, you know.” Broke up, he means.
“We've heard this kind of thing was happening to people. But I wasn't careful enough. They must’ve got my coffee. I wouldn't have come to you like this-” he cut off. Swallowed. “A few people have been attacked over the last few months, that we know about, with an aphrodisiac of some kind that makes them go sex-crazy. I think someone was hoping I'd do something embarrassing in public. Or something awful. And get myself disbarred, discredited.” He sighed. “This is what I get for making enemies out of supervillains.”
Well. That explains a whole bunch of stuff. “Wow.” Matt said, eventually.
Foggy sighed. “Yeah. This is just what my life is like. I guess. But you shouldn't have had to deal with...”
He reached over and moved his hand over the welt on Matt’s neck and up to his face, caressing the handprint there with unmistakable regret.
Matt winced, twitching in only a slightly exaggerated way, and Foggy’s hand gentled on him. “I'm so sorry I hit you. That was- it was the thing. The drug, it made me... twitchy." He cleared his throat. "Also. I was real mad at you. You said some shitty stuff, but. I know that's no excuse.”
And Matt didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. He had said some shitty things. And it was no excuse.
He thought about asking why Nelson hadn't contacted his wife for an emergency blowjob, she didn't work that far away. But he was far too late to start that conversation now. And he was afraid of the answer.
Foggy stood up, tidied himself as best as he could, buttoning his coat over his filthy clothes and presumably still an erection. Then he turned to face Matt, who was trying to figure out how to hide most of his shirt until he could get home.
“You still have the glasses I got you.” He didn't sound pleased. He almost sounded angry. Matt tried not to flare his nostrils. “They're good glasses. I'm used to them. Don't get ahead of yourself big guy, I didn't keep them because I'm still madly in love with you, if that's what you're hoping for.”
Nelson was still for a moment, then he said calmly, “Watch your drinks. Keep a lookout for this stuff. I'm going to have a horrible conversation with a medical professional.”
Then he left, and Matt was alone.
He raised a hand to his cheek. He felt the sorest spot, where the wedding ring had collided with his cheekbone. He sat in the silence for a moment, damp and sticky and sore.
He stood up.