Chapter Text
Matthew Murdock’s office phone had not rung in close to 10 business days. The only break in the long streak of silence was from Mrs. Gorchev, who had called to make sure Matt had enjoyed the kifla she left as a thank you for helping her write her Will. Matt was not, exactly, waiting for a phone call. Considering the fact that most of their clients were the bang-on-the-door desperate sort, not the call-to-book-an-appointment sort, he was focused on the sound of the bodies zooming back and forth the entrance to the building. Hoping that one of them would break-off and enter the building, and put an end to his boredom.
That day, none of them did. Matt contented himself with spinning lazy circles in his poorly furnished office, wasting time until Foggy was conscious enough to stumble in. Boredom did not suit the Daredevil. Idle hands, devil playgrounds, and all that jazz.
The shrill whine of a Foggy’s desk phone (the only working landline in the entire complex probably) was so unexpected, Matt may or may not have nearly fallen out of his chair.
If the Devil falls from the Heavens and no one is around to see him, Matt chuckled into the quiet of his mind. For a second, Matt contemplated not answering. Could be a telemarketer … Or Ms. Gorchev.
Even still, something told him this was a call he wanted to answer.
“Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law,” he enunciated into the phone receiver. "Matthew Murdock speaking."
“Well, hello there, handsome,” came a high, sweet voice. The voice carried a taste of smirking lips and mischievous eyes.
“Ms. Lewis,” he squeaked out, in honest befuddlement. Stumbling to regain his poise, Matt choked on his own voice. “Or rather, Ms. Lewis-Stark.”
“Just Darcy is fine.” Darcy giggled effortlessly. A witch, cackling her delight at poor Hansel being led to his doom.
“Darcy, then,” he responded, catching his bearings.
Unconsciously, Matt straightened in his chair and his voice smoothed out into an even register, feigning confidence where there had not been any moments prior. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“Aww,” Darcy teased. "Are you not happy to hear from me?" One might imagine a princess, loafing on a palanquin, awaiting men to bathe her in sweet perfumes and sweeter berries.
“Hell no!” he stated around a chuckle. Matt began to swing his chair in lazy circles once more, arms of the chair crinkling where they were held together by duct tape and a prayer. It was one their better dumpster treasures.
Matt held his breath for one sharp beat, before continuing, “The last time we talked, you showed up with a backpack full of cash and punched me in the face. Historically, not a good sign to hear from you.”
“That was only one time!” Darcy rebutted, sass at full levels. “Its not like I’ve made it a habit of knocking you on that fine jaw of yours.”
“Precedence was established, Ms. Darcy,” Matt volleyed back.
“Okay, you’re right,” she grumbled out in obvious reluctance. “Though, in my defense, showing prowess in battle is a well established communication technique. Still, I never apologized for that.”
There was a pregnant pause then. Matt could not be sure if she was taking the moment to actually steel herself to actually say “sorry” or if Darcy was evaluating if he was even receptive to one.
The silence broke not a moment later, when Matt decided to cast her a line.
“Well,” Matt started and then stopped. The cacophony from outside that permeated the stillness of the office that was typical New York, and the din soothed his heightened senses. “I assume you were behind the mysterious grant that we never applied for from the New York City Bar Association. I figured that was enough of an apology.”
“Oh no, that wasn’t an apology gift,” Darcy replied, all traces of contrition gone like smoke. “That was an extra thank you for your legal work for the Avengers Initiative."
Months ago, Darcy had come to Matt for assistance in setting up independent funding and legal agreements for The Avengers Initiative to operate across the globe. All fueled by her recently claimed Stark Inheritance. Since Matt was no expert in international or estate law, he lost many a night to research binges and brief writing. He honestly thought her a fool. But he didn’t object to the goal and they needed the money, so he took the job. After the collapse of SHIELD, he no longer thought her a fool.
“And the mysterious purchase of our building and the generous lease renewal terms?” He asked, eyebrows raised.
“Okay,” Darcy responded. “I guess that can be counted as an apology gift.”
“The ink is still practically wet on your name change to Stark and, yet, I don’t know how anyone could doubt where some of your personality traits come from.”
“I’m not calling to talk about my last name or financial lifestyle choices, Matthew.” The rebuke in Darcy’s voice was light but apparent.
“Well,” he suppressed a slight cough of discomfort. “You still haven’t mentioned why you were calling at all, Darcy.”
“I’m calling you,” her voice smoothed out, decibel by decibel, until it was a purr. “I’m calling to ask if you … ” There was a long, slow pause that filled the silence between them drop by drop, like a Japanese water fountain full of honey. He could hear the faint whisper of her breath against a headset, and a faint buzz in the background like the pressure of electricity in a closed room.
“Would you like to grab a drink sometime? ” Darcy parroted his own words back to him, in the exact same timber and cocksure attitude he had delivered once before.
Matt swallowed his own spit so loudly and suddenly, he was sure Darcy had heard. He was thankful she did not take the opportunity to laugh at him.
“Oh,” his voice dropped . Something sharp, but a bit discomfited, filled his belly. “I seem to remember a rejection.”
“That's true. I was particularly focused on depantsing a national icon at the time,” Darcy responded amusedly.
“So you and he are no longer … ?” Matt was not quite sure what he was trying to ask. Darcy let the vague question linger between them for a moment.
“I never said that, Matt.” Darcy’s amusement deepened.
“I’m not one to step out with someone who is already partnered up,” Matt responded evenly. Though, he had the sense he was missing some part of this conversation.
“Well,” the tease in her voice was wicked sharp. “I do believe it was you who brought up the idea of a threesome.”
The look on his face at that moment was nothing less than deer-in-the-headlights. But the biggest deer eyes in the biggest headlights in a tri-state area. Darcy could almost imagine it, and it delighted her. It took Matt several long moments to recover.
“Well then,” his voice deepened in promise. Not quite his Daredevil voice, that voice was for dark rooftops and fists in alleyways. This voice held a completely different kinds of promises. “There’s Speakeasy over on the Lower East Side. Maximum of four people. $400 a pop just for entrance. Private, swank, and very, very good. I’m sure you can make something happen so that you both can … Make your apologies to me in person.”
The bright, sweet laughter brushed against his spine like velvet. It was exactly the response that Matt had hoped for. He fidgeted even more in his seat, for entirely different reasons.
“I’ll text you the details,” she promised, voice like whiskey and citrus. A click signaled the disconnection of the call.
“It’s a date,” he spoke to the dial tone.
--
Matt showed up to Speakeasy fifteen minutes early. Or rather, he waited at the mouth of the alley that led to the joint. The blind man intended to be there half an hour or more in advance, in order to case the place and ensure that it was secure for the evening. Unfortunately, he got into a vicious fight with his wardrobe at the last minute. While his entire wardrobe was designed to mix-and-match well (despite being a superhero, he was still blind), he wanted to step up his usual game. If he could afford to, he would dress only in the finest silks and fabrics. His super senses meant he was prone to sensory overload, where even the softest cottons could feel like sandpaper. Better not to risk fate.
Matt settled on a silk shirt so pale a blue it was almost white, and a wool suit in a graphite grey. No tie, partially to keep it casual and partially avoid giving potential attackers easy handholds in battle. While knives were not his usual repertoire, had a few of those on his person as well. Stepping out with not one but two very important people meant that he was prepared for every eventuality.
Matt had his senses aimed out into the world, searching for two figures in the bustling distance. Matt was so engrossed in his observation, that he didn't notice when one of the many bustling figures in the New York evening paused just beside him.
Matt startled out of his distracted state when the figure let out a softly spoken, “Ummm … Matthew Murdock?”
The lawyer shifted his body to face the figure, his cane scraping softly along the ground to help fill his environment with sound. The Daredevil began to construct a mental picture of the man who just entered the scene.
The first thing that Matt registered was the smell. Or rather, the almost complete lack of smell. Each person had their unique scent profiles, part personal body chemistry and part chemicals from deodorants or detergents. Matt could smell only a hint of mint on the breath, salt that could be from sweat, and an earthy something that was probably the man’s unique scent.
The next thing Matt registered was the shape and sound of him. The stranger’s heartbeat was a low and steady thrum, his breathing almost metronomically even. Matt would have clocked his biorhythms as a marathon runner, with how steady they were at rest. Yet, the man had several inches of height on Matt. In fact, the figure was several inches bigger in almost every direction.
“Hello,” Matt purred out with a smile dancing at the edge of his lips. Matt extended his right hand out, perfectly poised to accept the supersoldier's handshake. No need to play the hapless blind man. The hand that gripped his was large and perfectly smooth. “Captain Rogers, I presume?”
The strong grip sent a pulse of heat traveling up Matt's arm, settling near his diaphragm. Matt hadn’t been with a man since college (not very many women either to be honest), and the figure in front of him reminded him exactly what he was missing out on.
“Just Steve,” the larger man responded. As Steve disengaged the handshake, Matt let his fingers dance along the palm of his partner for the evening. Matt caught the slight shiver the touch provoked in the supersoldier.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Matt said, making a handwavy motion that drew emphasis to his unseeing eyes covered by dark, red sunglasses. Matt's self-indulgent delight in making such jokes endeared himself to Steve. “But wasn't Darcy also supposed to be here for the evening?”
Jesus Christ, I really do have a type, don’t I? Steve stared Matt up and down, struck dumb at the beautiful smirk playing along the edges of an already emerging 5 o’clock shadow. I owe Darcy $100.
“I’m not sure what bet you have going on with Darcy, soldier, but that didn’t exactly answer my question.”
Steve’s eyes widened in horror, “I said that out loud?”
The laughter that filled the night was rich and masculine. Matt could practically taste the heat coming off of the supersoldier’s face. Matt was smitten.
“Yes, yes you did.” Matt decided to be generous in that moment by reaching out to take the soldier by his very impressive bicep. Steve’s arm instinctively bent to the escorting position, moving with Matt towards the Speakeasy proper. The soldier’s arm was a furnace underneath the softest coat material Matt had ever felt. Matt let his fingers dance along the arm on display.
“Darcy was roped into some project with Tony. It’ll be at least another three hours before anything but science will penetrate their brains.” Something melty and warm suffused the air, Matt heard genuine admiration from Steve despite them being stood up. Matt decided not to take it personally. Life of a super, and all that.
“I figured there was no reason we couldn’t still enjoy our evening,” Steve continued. Even towering over Matt, Steve’s boyish charm and aww-shucks energy made it feel as if he was looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.
“I’m sure we can find plenty of ways to entertain ourselves until Darcy is free,” Matt responded, giving the arm he held an appreciative squeeze but hardly denting the impressive muscles. Matt could almost feel Steve’s heart beat pick beneath his finger tips.
“Well, jeez,” Steve flexed his arm, applying reassuring pressure to Matt’s hand resting there. Playfulness dancing in his voice, Steve spoke, “I have Darcy’s credit card and a super metabolism. How about we go put that to the test?”
--
Steve Rogers was stripping off his dinner coat jacket with a careless confidence that was deeply attractive to Matt Murdock. The supersoldier tossed the coat towards one of the couches that filled the minimal space. Matt was pretty sure some of his bisexual awakening dreams looked almost exactly like this. Matt wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, to ensure he was actually standing in Captain America’s living room in the Avenger’s Tower.
Instead of pinching himself, Matt divested himself of his coat in a more sedentary fashion. He placed it carefully on the back of a the first chair he found.
“Someone seems awfully eager,” Matt teased out while beginning to undo the cufflinks around his wrists. Though he couldn’t see it, Matt could almost feel the New York skyline casting warm light into the inside of the open space. “Are you always this much in a rush for a pounding?”
Steve paused his relentless momentum. The blond turned around and stopped completely at the sight of Matt carefully disrobing. Something thrummed through the blond, some fire ignited at the challenge presented before him. Steve shot a Cheshire grin at the Daredevil, before grabbing his shirt and whipping it off his head in a flurry.
“I knew you’d be a drip,” Steve taunted, an accent peaking through his careful diction. The man filled the room with his presence, standing then only in his tank top and soon-to-be-off slacks. “Don’t be a chicken. Let's hurry this show on the road.”
The cocktails from the Speakeasy left Matt feeling warm and content. The man before him was threatening to turn that warmth into a raging blaze. Steve laughed at the gobsmacked look that had overtaken Matt's face.
“That works on Darcy, too, you’ll find. Best way to deal with the sass,” Steve added, looping thumbs into the belt loops of his slacks. Pulling them taut, showing off how the pants hugged every curve. “Is to play dirty, don’t you know?”
“Well then,” Matt’s movement quickened in response, voice full of playful menace. “Let’s play dirty then.”
Steve flashed a quicksilver smirk, before turning back to his original destination.
All thoughts of keeping his clothes neat flew out the window, and Matt’s shirt joined Steve’s on the couch. I’ll make Darcy pay for dry-cleaning, he figured.
Matt practically started running after the supersoldier in his rush to not be left behind. Unexpectedly, a pair of dress slacks flew straight for him. Matt had to dive into a roll and spring back to his feet in order to dodge them in his pursuit. The mental picture of Steve's form was so much crisper without a pair of pants in the way. The image of a brief’s clad supersoldier running would be a vision that would fuel Matt’s best dreams for months.
Matt only managed to get the second leg of his pants off right before crossed the threshold into the room Steve had just entered.
Only one step into the room, Matt was forced to launch himself into a cartwheel. He neatly dodged the right hook Steve had shot straight for his face. Instead, the blow landed against the door, throwing it into backwards into the wall with a boom.
Matt laughed, freely and without reservation. “Going to have to do better than that, Captain.”
“You’re the one that wanted a good spar,” the smile on Steve’s face was pure, boyish charm. The kind of charm that sold war bonds and fueled fantasies. The supersoldier glowed like a beacon, and Matt’s blood rushed south of the equator in response.
“You were the one bitching about not having had a good one in weeks,” Matt retorted. The blind lawyer took a second to center himself before launching at the super soldier with a kick to the chest that sent Steve flying out of the room.
Steve whooped as he launched himself back on his feet, preparing to get back to the melee. “I thought I was doing a good job of playing coy.”
Steve launched back into the room, clearing the distance between them in one bound. Matt was forced back further into the gym.
“Wait,” Matt moved to punch, but Steve went in for a kick that forced Matt back further. Matt leaned away from the kick, leaving Steve open for a right hook to the face. Matt’s fist connected with Steve’s face in a blow that reverberated up Matt’s arm. In shock for a different reason, Matt asked, “Was that you flirting?”
The brush of stubble against his knuckles left even more of an impression on the lawyer than the impressiveness of the jaw he just clocked. Despite the blow, the blond’s grin grew larger.
“Was telling you to get your clothes off when we walked into my place not clue enough?” Steve asked drolly, catching the left jab coming his way in one hand. Steve squeezed and held on to the fist captured he had captured.
“You’re Captain America!” Matt aimed his free hand at Steve’s torso, which Steve deflected. “I figured you were being earnest!”
Matt’s free hand reconnected with Steve’s face once again. Matt took that brief opportunity to grab the elbow of the arm holding his fist captive, yanking Steve's arm up with great force. If Steve had not leaned into the motion and into a flip, his elbow would have been dislocated. Though he was forced to release Matt’s hand.
“I’m always being earnest.” Steve quickly followed up with a right knee. Matt only barely managed to deflect it with his forearms. Blood pressure rose, thundering in both their ears. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t flirting or hoping for some action.”
Steve struck out with his right fist. Matt ducked under it, but could feel it graze across his hair.
“Wow … ” Matt responded in awe. Matt leapt towards the blonde, right foot connecting with Steve’s broad chest. The force jolted through Matt's leg, causing him to fall to the mat on his back. Steve went flying backward, but gracefully used the momentum to roll into a backflip that had him instantly back on his feet.
“I don’t know if I’m impressed that it still worked or mad that I’m such an idiot,” Matt stated contritely.
The air shifted, and Matt rolled back up onto his feet before Steve got too close. Steve was charging at him, a tank of muscle and efficiency. The other man entered Matt’s space in a flurry of limbs. The jarring of his muscles forgotten, Matt's attention was completely focused on the quick movements necessary to dodge Steve’s powerful blows. Heat built low in his belly.
“Don’t worry, dreamboat,” Steve panted out, words dripping condescension but the smile still pure joy. “Better people than either of us have fallen for this smile.”
And with that statement, Steve stepped further into Matt’s space. Steve shot Matt a smile turned up so bright and blinding, that Matt paused to examine the curve of it in his mind’s eye. Though, the moment of distraction cost him, because Steve landed a side jab that forced Matt to stumble back and regroup.
The smell of gin and berries on Steve’s breath lingered in the air between them, hitting Matt somewhere in his solar plexus. Beneath that smell however, some base scent, something purely Steve, was becoming more and more apparent.
Matt, before he could censor himself, blurted out, “God. I can finally smell you.” Matt’s face was aflame instantly.
Steve’s smile softened to something confused, though charmed. Steve responded, “Darcy mentioned you were sensitive to smell.”
Matt advanced on Steve, a new determination haunting his step. Desperate now, to force the beginnings of the glow of sweat on Steve’s face into something more. More blood pounding, more input for his senses to drink in.
“I am very sensitive to smell,” Matt responded in the affirmative, ducking under the swing of Steve’s latest attack. The blind man threw his whole body into a follow up right hook, connecting. Though, he felt Steve relaxing into the blow to lessen the impact.
Matt pivoted into a spinning roundhouse kick, sending Steve backwards once more. Steve stumbled until a wall stopped his momentum.
“Do I smell bad?” Steve lifted his arm, raising his armpit to his nose to get a sniff in unselfconscious earnestness. Matt was endeared. “Or did I use the wrong detergent? Darcy made us switch to unscented everything so we wouldn’t …”
Steve abruptly stopped talking, but Matt could sense the blush grace the soldier's face. Matt wanted to make Steve blush, but with battle or baser needs, not with embarrassment. Though, Matt was determined to have Steve finish that sentence.
With that in mind, Matt ran towards the super soldier at full speed, launching right knee first. The knee connected with Steve’s chest in a blow that jarred through them both. It knocked the breath out of Steve in particular, as it slammed him back into the wall.
Matt rested his hands on the blond's impressive shoulders, using them for balance. Leaning upward and whispering against Steve's ear, Matt asked, “So you wouldn’t what, soldier?”
Matt wasn’t sure if it was the endearment or the hot breath ghosting over sensitive neck, but a shiver ran through the supersoldier. Matt could feel the shiver through his own undershirt, and undershirt that was rapidly growing damp and clinging to the curves of his abs. Matt’s dick throbbed in the confines of his boxer-briefs.
“So we wouldn’t kill the sexy times mood with bad smells,” Steve repeated, verbatim, what were obviously Darcy’s words. A grin bloomed on Matt’s face. Steve took a moment to appreciate the handsome man before him, before throwing a right jab. The smile on Matt's face grew larger, even though his skull shook slightly with the blow.
Matt stumbled backwards, to gain some distance from Steve’s impressive reach.
Steve advanced, hoping to take advantage of the moment, but Matt recovered quickly. A few more quick blows exchanged, and Matt had a lock around Steve’s left arm. With the arm trapped, Matt launched Steve into a throw that had the blond hit the ground in a dull thud.
“Sexy times mood, ha!” Matt taunted him on the floor. “But in all seriousness, I can read a lot from a person’s sweat. I'm as good as a blood hound. Was just curious why I couldn’t pick up much from you?”
Steve launched back to his feet, grabbed Matt by his undershirt collar, and yanked the brunette close. Steve’s arms bulged with the strain of heaving Matt’s entire body weight, practically lifting the smaller man off the floor. Only stopping when Matt's face was less than a hair's breadth away, though the lines of their bodies touched from belly to toe.
“Supersoldier metabolism probably,” Steve breathed out, his words a caress against Matt’s lips. Matt felt a solid warmth against his hip, insistent and huge. “It takes a lot to make me sweat.”
Matt gulped with how turned on he was.
Unexpectedly, Steve tossed Matt away from him, forcing Matt into a roll. Matt arrested his momentum efficiently. Sensing Steve approaching rapidly, Matt rolled out of the way, barely dodging Steve’s fist. The supersoldier's punch impacted the floor in an impressive boom.
“Fuck,” Matt exclaimed. “Is this you still flirting?” A spurt of precum in his boxer-brief belied the harshness of his words. Matt went back to his feet, and readjusted himself to relieve some of the building ache.
They exchange a few more quick blows, switching to mostly punches and jabs. The pressure growing between their legs made footwork more and more awkward.
In a flurry of movement, Steve was suddenly standing behind Matt, wrapping solid arms around the smaller man’s midsection.
Matt struggled, but the movement shifted Steve’s shaft until it laid long and thick against his crack. Both men stilled, their breathing in sync.
“This is definitely still me flirting,” Steve said, before leaning down to nip Matt’s ear. Matt could feel the heat emitting from Steve, could smell his earthy scent, and something alkaline and bitter that was likely the beginnings of precum in Steve’s well-filled out briefs. Steve asked, “Is it working?”
Not giving Matt a chance to respond, Steve lifted him bodily off the ground, launching the brunette backwards. Matt slammed into the mat, face down, dick hard and uncomfortable against the unforgiving ground.
“Fuck you, wonder boy,” Matt bit out, though he couldn’t say if it was frustration with the fight or frustration that they hadn't moved on to what would come after the fight.
“I think you meant to say ‘fuck me, wonderboy,’” Steve quipped. The lawyer should have expected the comeback, but he was somehow still surprised. Steve's smile held promises that Matt was desperate to cash in. “And I plan to."
In response, Matt pushed himself up and launched into his next attacks. They both whooped in delight for the next minutes of fists and movement.
The fighting was an absolute blur to Matt. His fists were starting to throb dully, his lip wasn’t split but it was dangerously close, and he tasted copper on his tongue. An opportunity opened when Matt was behind the Captain, back to back. Deciding to do something unexpected, Matt reached behind and above him, grabbing the Captain by his thick neck and under his chin. Matt used his whole body to throw and flip the larger man over him.
“Or maybe I’ll be fucking you,” Matt smirked down at the man laying stunned before him. The Captain had landed in a thud that left the both of them breathing in harsh pants.
His victory was short-lived however. A quick handmove by Steve, and Matt was once more on the ground. That time, shoulder-to-shoulder with his opponent. They both laid there, recovering their breath, for several long moments.
The tension was too much for Steve.
Next thing he knew, Matt was being buried under a mountain of flesh and warmth. Steve’s body enveloped him, foot to shoulder, faces less than an inch apart. Matt’s erection had not gone anywhere during the entirety of the fight, but all of his attention shifted to where it was pressed against Captain America's hard length. He fought not to rut up against the supersoldier.
“Who says we can’t take turns?” Steve stated, before slamming his lips down on the smaller man’s.
Steve consumed Matt's mouth with the same skill and intensity he had shown while fighting. Kissing with a ferocity that was unexpected, though the lips themselves were soft, and the hands framing his face almost gentle. Steve’s hands moved to gripping Matt’s dark locks tightly in two fists.
Matt was overwhelmed by the sensation of skin against his, the pressure of hands against his scalp, drowning in the taste and scent of the powerful man above him. It took a minute before Matt remembered that he had his own hands. He began burrowing them under Steve’s tank top, desperate to get more of Steve’s skin on his own.
Eventually, Steve broke the kiss and pulled back. Matt would deny that he whimpered when the kiss broke.
“Is having Darcy participating a necessity for you?” Steve asked, though it took Matt many seconds to comprehend what was being said. Matt was too distracted by trying to get his hands further up Steve’s spine, hungry for more contact. “Darcy and I already talked, and are both good to step out with you one-on-one. But I need to hear what you’re comfortable with.”
“God. You really are a boy scout, aren’t you?” Matt groaned out, giving into temptation and bucking up against Steve. Matt could feel wetness being added to the briefs at the tip of Steve’s cock. The glide of fabric against fabric was excruciatingly good.
“Consent is important, Matt.” Steve bit his lip to hold back his groan, though he moved to grab the smaller man by his wrists. Once the offending hands were seized, Steve pinned them down gently on either side of Matt’s head. Steve stared down, face enraptured.
“Yes,” Matt growled out, voice almost beyond him. “I can’t wait to get my mouth and hands on Darcy. But if you don’t get your dick in me right now, I will take this situation into my own hands.”
“Spitfire,” was all Steve could say. He said it reverently again, before reclaiming Matt again by the mouth. Steve kept up his grip on the other man’s wrists. “I can’t wait to take you apart.”
Steve shifted Matt’s two wrists to being held in one of his large hands, forcing the brunette’s to lay prone beneath. Steve used his now free hand to explore Matt's firm chest. When content with his explorations there, Steve's hand kept going south and only stopped when he grasped a handful of Matt through boxer-briefs.
The squirming of the man below him set Steve’s veins on fire. Steve may not have had many partners, but they were all active and enthusiastic in this aspect. His dick throbbed. He rutted his dick in steady pulses against Matt’s hip, not daring to push harder or faster lest he come before he was ready.
Matt could not be held still for long. He squirmed under the blond until he freed his legs. Matt wrapped them tightly around Steve's hips, inviting him deeper into the v of his legs. The new arrangement caused both to moan into each other’s mouths.
“Get your clothes off, God damn it!” Matt growled, using his powerful legs to rock Steve against him. Matt’s nerves were singing, his senses dialed up to 11. He wanted (needed) more.
Steve released Matt’s hands to fulfill the demand. The blond had his tank top off in one quick pull, revealing a heaving, sweaty chest. Matt’s hands scrambled at his own shirt, but was not able to get it off since he was trapped under Steve’s bulk. Impatiently, Steve reached down, grabbed the shirt in his fists and tore it in half. He instantly treated himself to his unwrapped prize, running hands along the miles of muscle, hair, and skin that was Matthew Murdock.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Matt moaned out, as smooth hands traced along the length of his torso, teasing at his nipples and belly. Matt reached out, plunging hands into Steve’s sweat soaked hair, and pulled him into a kiss full of desperate teeth and gentle tongues to soothe the burn. The friction of stubble against stubble left Matt feeling sensitive and alive.
Steve couldn’t keep his mouth from wandering, though. He began venturing kisses and tongue, lavishing and worshipful.
“Beautiful,” Steve breathed out into Matt's ear, nosing along jaw until he found what he was looking for. A sensitive spot on Matt's neck that Steve used teeth and harsh sucks, lighting fireworks along Matt's nervous system.
Steve’s worshipful kisses and licks traveled downward, until he reached Matt’s right nipple. Steve abruptly sucked on it. Hard. A squeak escaped Matt, which had Steve’s dick practically punching through the briefs trying to restrain him. Steve always had a thing for seeing strong, tough people go soft and vulnerable underneath him.
Steve used teeth on the nipple, sucking, pulling back only when the Matt's moans shifted from pleasure to pleasure-pain. Steve blew a steady breath against the raised and wet peak, relishing the shudder that passed through the brunette. Steve grasped the length of Matt’s cock through his boxer-briefs, and started pumping gently.
“Fuck, I’m going to come if you keep that up,” Matt moaned out. His voice shifted to a whine at the end, as Steve surprised him by shifting to the other nipple.
“Don’t worry, spitfire,” Steve's voice was wrecked with lust. “I’m going to take care of you.”
“Fuck,” Matt said, over and over again, like a prayer. Steve relinquished the second nipple before continuing his journey south. “How are you real?”
Matt’s whole body shuddered as large fingers danced around the elastic of his underwear.
“May I?” Steve asked, drinking in Matt’s form. Strong muscle, firm jaw, full lips, and a desperate tent, aching for relief. Steve rubbed his cheek against the clad length, breathing on it and pressing gentle kisses through the fabric.
“God, yes!” Matt, realizing his hands were free to do as they wished, rushed down to assist Steve in getting the offending underwear off. Matt’s length bobbed in freedom, smacking back down onto his abs, leaving a smear of fluid in his treasure trail.
Not wasting any more time, Steve grabbed the hot length and plunged it into his mouth. He licked frantically, and hollowed out his cheeks in a needy suck. All Matt could do was plunge his hands in the blond locks and hold on for dear life. Matt could not have stopped himself from rocking up into the wet heat. Though, his motion was quickly put to a stop by the hands wrapped around his hips, pinning him down once more.
The blind man moaned deep in his throat. Matt held on tightly to the head that began to bob up and down his length.
Matt was lost in a haze of sensation, mind focused completely at the point between his legs. That was, until strong hands moved from his hips to his thighs and gripped them with exquisite pressure. Slowly, they forced Matt’s legs up until the smaller man was exposed in his entirety.
“Please,” Matt chanted. “Please.” Matt wasn’t sure entirely what he was begging for, but he knew the soldier would deliver.
Matt’s body clenched in pleasure at the sudden, wet lapping at his tight rim. It pressed against him, unrelenting, like Steve himself. His hole couldn't hold out forever, and gave to the advancing tongue in a howl of pleasure from Matt.
Steve moaned, hungrily, into the man beneath him. Gorged himself on the sounds. Steve had Matt nearly bent in half, forcing him to accept the pleasure that Steve was desperate to give.
“There you go,” Steve murmured against heated skin, moving to lap gently at the delicate skin of Matt’s balls. Steve began tracing the rim with his fingers, tongue still lavishing at the bounty before him.
“Let me in,” Steve said gently, as he began to slowly work in the first finger.
The blond man’s fingers were as large as the rest of him, and introduced a delicious burn that lit Matt up from the inside. Perhaps it was his moonlighting as a masked vigilante or perhaps it was something inherent to him, but Matt loved the burn of almost-pain. It kindled inside him, made him feel alive.
“More,” he begged, reaching to grasp his own legs and hold them to his chest. Freeing up Steve to plunder with mouth and hands. Steve continued to tease him with gentle nips along his taint and tongue dancing around sensitive skin. “Come on, soldier. Hop to it.”
“Sir,” Steve said cheekily, spitting on Matt's hole, before plunging another finger into the tight heat. “Yes, sir.” He continued on, occasionally adding tongue to the fingers driving in and out of Matt's body.
When Steve finally introduced a third finger, he crooked them to aim directly for the smaller man's prostate. Matt squeaked in pleasure each time his fingers reached their deepest point.
Matt could feel Steve murmur a question against his hole, but it was a struggle to understand since he was lost in sensation. The three fingers inside him stopped moving suddenly, though Matt could feel them resting gently against his prostate. It was an exercise in self-control not to fuck himself on the magic fingers and focus on the words.
“Wha?” Matt mumbled out.
“Do you need me to stop and get a condom?” Steve asked. Matt’s confusion must have been obvious, because he continued on, “I can’t get or transmute STDs but clean-up is still annoying.”
“Fuck me,” was the only response Matt could have given. “I want to feel you.”
Though Matt couldn’t see with his eyes, he could sense the dilation of the supersoldier’s eyes from lust. The fire in his belly roared in satisfaction and Matt arched his back, driving the fingers in and out of him again.
Matt focused his senses on Steve as the blond moved to kneeling in order to get his briefs off. When Steve finally removed his briefs from the equation, Matt was unable to resist the temptation to explore. He was barely able to wrap his fingers around Steve's girth, and there was plenty of length still peaking out above his one fist. Matt reached out with his other hand, placing it above the first fist. There was still more length uncovered.
"Fuck, you're big," Matt said in appreciation as he began pumping the length in his two handed grip. Matt grinned to himself in satisfaction as the sensation rippled through Steve’s core, forcing Steve to hunch over in pleasure. Dazed, though not for long.
In a feat of strength, which Matt had always been attracted to, Steve flipped them. The blond was then laying on the floor while Matt was poised over Steve’s hard length. Matt's legs were weak with pleasure, only Steve’s strength prevented Matt from plunging onto the shaft.
“How about I let you do the work at first, spitfire?” Steve crooned at the man above him. “You can take your time. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Matt nodded, and reached for the shaft below him. Matt held it steady, and began to slowly lower himself down. Half way through, the burn forced Matt to hold himself steady.
Steve stroked along his thighs, back, and neck, murmuring sweet encouragements and biting back swears of pleasure. The burn inside Matt rode the line between true discomfort and pleasure so good, he was languid with it. Matt found the strength in his thighs to make small movements that worked the length inside him steadily.
When Matt’s bare bottom finally reached the thick hair at the base of Steve’s body, he collapsed on the blond man’s chest. Steve kissed him, stroking his neck and back, as the smaller man adjusted to the intrusion.
After several long minutes, Matt experimentally started squirming on the length. Miniscule in and out motions to test the stretch inside him, as they continued to kiss. He took a deep satisfaction in feeling Steve’s hands settle around his hips. Matt could feel the tension building in Steve’s thighs, the shaking in them speaking to how desperate the man was to thrust up into his tight heat.
“Please,” then it was Steve’s turn to beg as he pulled away from the kiss. “Please.”
Matt nodded once, and quickly placed his hands on the shoulders of the man beneath him. Bracing himself, Matt began riding.
Steve drank him in, Matt's own length rubbing along his abs with every churn, the grip and heat overwhelming him. Steve buried his face in Matt’s collar bone, stubble rubbing a fiery trail, as Matt used him for his own gratification. Steve's hands on Matt's hips flexed, leaving small bruises that Matt would enjoy feeling there later.
“I need to ... ” Steve couldn't articulate what he needed, but Matt just nodded in affirmation and stopped the riding motion. Steve readjusted, and then began to use his powerful legs to thrust up into the body above him. The first pump pulled a moan from deep inside Matt's chest.
Matt's hands clenched, nails biting deeply into the shoulders beneath him, and continued moaning with each pump. His need grew from a trickle to a torrent.
“Come for me,” Steve crooned, sensing the other's growing need. Steve was just as desperate, but wouldn't come until his partner did first.
The heat ran fiery laps along Matt's spine. His fists clenched into claws around Steve’s shoulders, thighs shaking with the oncoming storm. Matt had never come untouched before, but he was perilously close.
“Steve, please,” Matt begged, his own length bobbing in midair with each thrust.
“You can do it, Matt,” Steve said. Steve shifted his hips, angling himself directly against the smaller man’s prostate. Steve punched out little moans from Matt with each collision.
“Come on my dick, spitfire,” Steve demanded.
Matt fell off the cliff gasping, painting strips of white along Steve's chest. As Matt convulsed around him, Steve buried himself into Matt once, twice, three times. Steve emptied himself in the clench of rippling muscle, orgasm feeling as if it was ripped from him.
They both collapsed into each other. Matt lounged bonelessly on Steve beneath him, Steve a puddle of flesh on the floor. Their chests slick together, with sweat and spend.
“Well done, soldier,” Matt sleepily droned out, applying sleepy kisses to Steve’s neck before lazily making his way to the other’s mouth. The kiss shared was sweet and slow. "I think you win that round."
“I'd call it a tie,” Steve chuckled around the sweet kisses. His spine soupy and leg still spasming with the aftershocks. “Give me a minute. I’ll get us cleaned and in a bed.”
“Hmmm … My hero,” Matt teased, eyes drifting shut in contentment. Matt hadn’t been that relaxed in years. He had one last thought before sleep dragged him under. That if it was that good with Steve, he wouldn't wait to experience Steve and Darcy together.