Daredevil Ficlet: "My Secret Identity" (Matt/Foggy)
First, a quick announcement: I made an index of (almost) all of my fanfics, forward-dated to go to the top of my journal. It's right here.
Title: My Secret Identity
Fandom: Daredevil
Pairing: Matt/Foggy
Rating: PG
Matt,
Is it pathetic that I write these notes to you, knowing that I'll never send them? I don't even copy and paste them into my compose email window. I'm not stupid. Masochistic. Whatever. All it would take is one time forgetting to copy something else, and then you'd be using my computer and would press ctrl+v, and then it would not be good. I write these so I'm not tempted to say this stuff to you. I type them so you won't read the indentations on a stray sheet of paper or my desk.
Is there a word or euphemism for 'intentional friendship murder?' Besides 'Matt Murdock,' I mean. Pulling a Matthew. Doing a Matt. That has a nice ring to it.
Which, of course, is the problem.
Nevermind.
- Foggy
---
Dear Matt,
Nice shirt. The color's good on you. Said that this morning, actually. You snorted and made some witty comment, but I was the one who made the Queer Eye for the Blind Guy joke.
You laughed at that, too. Didn't even bat an eyelash, because you knew I was kidding. We joke like that all the time.
Bet you wouldn't laugh if I said I wanted to take that shirt off of you. Watch you take it off. I don't rip clothes off--I undo buttons slowly. When I undress people. Women, that is. Which, well. You know how often that is.
Queer Eye for the Blind Guy.
I hate myself.
- Foggy
---
So, Matt, I think I might be gay. How are you?
---
Matt:
How's it going? How are things, dressed up in skintight red leather and jumping around on rooftops? You punching anyone's lights out, right now? Getting the crap beat out of you?
Or are you done with that for the night and showering by now, maybe kicked back on your couch with a sandwich and a brew? Patting yourself on the back for a job well done?
It's 3:47 AM and I'm at the office. Doing your work. Wish you were here.
- The Nelson half of Nelson & Murdock
P.S. an hour later:
Dear Matt,
You suck.
---
Hey,
Okay, show up with contrition and donuts, and you're forgiven. And you made coffee. Have I ever told you that you make better coffee than I do? Because you do.
And now you're sitting there with powdered sugar on the corner of your mouth, and you're reading and I'm supposed to be working, but all I can think about is how much I want to go over there and kiss you.
Screw that. If I'm going there, I'm Going There. Matt Murdock, I want to go over and put my hands on your shoulders and shove your chair over backwards and pin you before you and your super reflexes have a chance to register what's happening. I want to kiss you like you have never been kissed before in your life (and no, not because I'm a guy, but because I want to be that good). I want to not worry that I have to be gentle with you because I'm bigger than you--because with you, I wouldn't have to be.
I want to hurt you. You, Matt, not Daredevil. This is not about my issues with the costume, it's about you. I want to be rough in bed with you. Crazy kinky-rough. I want to bite you. I want to leave bruises because for once, I'd like to know exactly where they came from and not have to hurt for you. I am so tired of hurting for you when you come in and act like it's all a joke. I hate that grin. I hate those jokes. You ever notice how I laugh weakly--or not at all--at those? It's because they're not funny.
For once, I'd like to make a mess with you instead of cleaning up yours. And it would be messy, with us--it would be complicated, uncomfortable, potentially-friendship-ending messy. And I want not to care. For once--for once, Matt--I want to be a Man Without Fear and just TELL YOU and get it OVER with.
But I'm a chickenshit, and you're you, and you've got enough to deal with.
We'd be great together, though.
- F
---
From: m.murdock@nmlaw.com
Subject: You know how you can play 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' on the telephone?
To: f.nelson@nmlaw.com
Dear Foggy,
Three things:
1. Each key on a computer keyboard makes a unique sound when you press it. Maybe not audible to you or anyone else, maybe the manufacturers don't even know it, but to me, it's like hearing words spelled out, a letter at a time. Even across the hall.
2. I happen to like it rough.
3. You're right. We would be.
We should probably talk about this.
- Matt
---
Title: My Secret Identity
Fandom: Daredevil
Pairing: Matt/Foggy
Rating: PG
Matt,
Is it pathetic that I write these notes to you, knowing that I'll never send them? I don't even copy and paste them into my compose email window. I'm not stupid. Masochistic. Whatever. All it would take is one time forgetting to copy something else, and then you'd be using my computer and would press ctrl+v, and then it would not be good. I write these so I'm not tempted to say this stuff to you. I type them so you won't read the indentations on a stray sheet of paper or my desk.
Is there a word or euphemism for 'intentional friendship murder?' Besides 'Matt Murdock,' I mean. Pulling a Matthew. Doing a Matt. That has a nice ring to it.
Which, of course, is the problem.
Nevermind.
- Foggy
---
Dear Matt,
Nice shirt. The color's good on you. Said that this morning, actually. You snorted and made some witty comment, but I was the one who made the Queer Eye for the Blind Guy joke.
You laughed at that, too. Didn't even bat an eyelash, because you knew I was kidding. We joke like that all the time.
Bet you wouldn't laugh if I said I wanted to take that shirt off of you. Watch you take it off. I don't rip clothes off--I undo buttons slowly. When I undress people. Women, that is. Which, well. You know how often that is.
Queer Eye for the Blind Guy.
I hate myself.
- Foggy
---
So, Matt, I think I might be gay. How are you?
---
Matt:
How's it going? How are things, dressed up in skintight red leather and jumping around on rooftops? You punching anyone's lights out, right now? Getting the crap beat out of you?
Or are you done with that for the night and showering by now, maybe kicked back on your couch with a sandwich and a brew? Patting yourself on the back for a job well done?
It's 3:47 AM and I'm at the office. Doing your work. Wish you were here.
- The Nelson half of Nelson & Murdock
P.S. an hour later:
Dear Matt,
You suck.
---
Hey,
Okay, show up with contrition and donuts, and you're forgiven. And you made coffee. Have I ever told you that you make better coffee than I do? Because you do.
And now you're sitting there with powdered sugar on the corner of your mouth, and you're reading and I'm supposed to be working, but all I can think about is how much I want to go over there and kiss you.
Screw that. If I'm going there, I'm Going There. Matt Murdock, I want to go over and put my hands on your shoulders and shove your chair over backwards and pin you before you and your super reflexes have a chance to register what's happening. I want to kiss you like you have never been kissed before in your life (and no, not because I'm a guy, but because I want to be that good). I want to not worry that I have to be gentle with you because I'm bigger than you--because with you, I wouldn't have to be.
I want to hurt you. You, Matt, not Daredevil. This is not about my issues with the costume, it's about you. I want to be rough in bed with you. Crazy kinky-rough. I want to bite you. I want to leave bruises because for once, I'd like to know exactly where they came from and not have to hurt for you. I am so tired of hurting for you when you come in and act like it's all a joke. I hate that grin. I hate those jokes. You ever notice how I laugh weakly--or not at all--at those? It's because they're not funny.
For once, I'd like to make a mess with you instead of cleaning up yours. And it would be messy, with us--it would be complicated, uncomfortable, potentially-friendship-ending messy. And I want not to care. For once--for once, Matt--I want to be a Man Without Fear and just TELL YOU and get it OVER with.
But I'm a chickenshit, and you're you, and you've got enough to deal with.
We'd be great together, though.
- F
---
From: m.murdock@nmlaw.com
Subject: You know how you can play 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' on the telephone?
To: f.nelson@nmlaw.com
Dear Foggy,
Three things:
1. Each key on a computer keyboard makes a unique sound when you press it. Maybe not audible to you or anyone else, maybe the manufacturers don't even know it, but to me, it's like hearing words spelled out, a letter at a time. Even across the hall.
2. I happen to like it rough.
3. You're right. We would be.
We should probably talk about this.
- Matt
---