To The Knees

BY : Prentice
Category: Marvel Verse TV > no category yet
Dragon prints: 157
Disclaimer: I do not own Daredevil, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: To The Knees
Author: Prentice
Fandom: Daredevil (TV)
Rating: ADULT++
Pairing: Matt/Foggy (Established Relationship)
Author's Note: Written for a prompt on the daredevil kink meme.

Summary: The first time they’d done it, Foggy had felt like an asshole afterwards.


The first time they’d done it, Foggy had felt like an asshole afterwards. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed it – he had; he really, really had, probably a lot more than he should – it was just that, Matt had gone around sounding like his great grandma Edna after thirty years of smoking after that. He’d been hoarse and gravelly, voice never really rising from a soft scratchy-rumble that made Foggy want to bring him tea with honey and lemon only Matt hated lemon and the financial office next door didn’t carry any packets of honey Foggy could appropriate for a greater cause.

He also really didn’t feel right about leaving Matty for as long as it took to go buy some honey himself and sending Karen – yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. It felt skeevy somehow. Inappropriate in ways he couldn’t even begin to describe because she was their friend but also their employee and him asking her to go buy honey for Matt’s sore throat when he was the cause of that sore throat just didn’t feel right.

In the end, he’d settled for plying Matt with throat lozenges, soup from that Vietnamese place that knew both of them by name, and a day old cupcake he’d been hoarding in his office for lunch. Also kisses – soft dirty kisses that he pressed against Matt’s mouth and jaw whenever Karen’s back was turned – because kisses cured everything according to the Nelson clan.

Well, according to this part of the Nelson clan anyway, because Foggy kind of loved kissing, especially when it was kissing with Matt. Now that he could do it in real life and not just in his fantasies, he wanted to do it all the time. Mostly because Matt always seemed to sort of melt into them, cheeks flushing and lips parting, expression somewhere between eager arousal and poorly disguised longing.

It always made Foggy’s chest ache when he saw it, hand automatically petting through Matty’s hair in a firm but gentle glide. Sometimes it amazed him, just how much his best friend wanted this. Wanted him.

Franklin Nelson. Foggy Nelson. Him.

God it was like a dream. Like every fantasy he’d ever had come to life. Matt wanted him – him, god, yes, fucking finally– and maybe even loved him and now he was – they were –

Matty was fucking perfect. Or, okay, maybe not perfect because there was that whole lying to him for years while he went and became a vigilante in his spare time and also the whole ‘world on fire’ thing, but really he was perfect. For Foggy, anyway.

Because, let’s be real, Foggy had wanted Matt for years now – since their first year in college, which felt like a lifetime ago – and he’d never thought that he would get him because Matt was straight and Catholic and way out of his league but somehow he’d gotten him, they’d gotten each other, and Matt – he was this – this strange wonderful fucking badass ninja attorney who fought crime and sought justice and – and –

Loved – fucking loved – to have Foggy choke him with his dick. Which was kind of fucked up but also really true because Matt had a thing for it. Like, a really big, really hot thing for it, and Foggy was only too happy to oblige him because he was kind of getting a thing for it too.

Not like a thing thing, where that was the only thing either of them ever wanted to do anymore, but like a special thing, where they did it when Matty was absolutely gagging for it and Foggy knew Karen wouldn’t ask too many questions – Matt had horrible allergies, Karen, horrible – and that they weren’t scheduled for any important court hearings. Which wasn’t as often as he liked because – money, Matthew, it was a thing – but that wasn’t really here nor there because there other factors too. Like Matt’s vigiliante-ing or whatever they were calling it.

He couldn’t exactly get down on his knees when he had broken ribs – he’d try to anyway, sure, but Foggy wasn’t cool with that and stopped him before he could hurt himself worse – and even if there were other positions they could try with Foggy still able to fuck Matt’s mouth until it was sloppy wet with spit and come and his eyes were leaking so many fucking tears, he knew Matt liked being on his knees best.

 He wasn’t sure why – or, all right, he kind of was because Matt was fucking beautiful on his knees, tears and spit and pre-come drooling out his mouth and down his chin, gagging and choking and so fucking enthusiastic it made Foggy’s hips jerk harder – but he liked taking care of Matty. In ways like waiting until he was healed enough before getting him into his favorite position. On his knees.

And, yeah, it had maybe taken a little while after that first time for Foggy to agree to do it again because he’d never gotten carried away like that before and the idea that he’d somehow hurt Matt in some way made him feel sick to his stomach, but he’d given in eventually. Mostly because Matt was persistent. Really persistent. Super persistent.

Also basically shameless because the next time had been in his office, where he’d pretty much manhandled Foggy into his chair, lips and tongue teasing, until somehow Foggy had found himself gripping handfuls of Matt’s hair as he fucked himself up and into Matty’s mouth and throat until the chair was sliding unevenly beneath him and Foggy was cursing and swearing and telling Matt all the dirty things he was going to do to him. Thank god Karen had gone to lunch early that day. Foggy wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop himself even if she had been in the office.

Not that it mattered anymore since Foggy had put a moratorium on any in-office shenanigans happening ever again unless Matt made sure it was after hours, the door was locked, and Karen was on her way home. They were only successful about half of the time but Foggy didn’t think anyone would really blame him. Not once they saw Matt.

Who was far too tempting for his own good even on his bad days. Which was saying a lot, because Foggy basically just wanted him all the time.  Even when he was wearing that Kevlar body armor shit with the horns on it.

Actually, if he was being honest, he kind of wished those horns were longer.

They would have made for awesome handholds.



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