Matt smiles again, and laughs again, and just like that everything is right. Tim may still be a little wet and Matt might be a little sore but it doesn't matter. It's them, it's their moment and Matt treasures this because he knows, eventually, it's going to crumble.

"Then yes," Matt says simply, their foreheads touching, his hand on the others, and he ignores the fact that Tim has hot tea in his hands and instead tilts his head to kiss him on the mouth, not rough but longing, and the hand on Tim's face goes to the other's neck, gently placing fingers on the side of it, tender and fragile much like the moment.

He tries to ignore that all of this is going to change tomorrow when he goes after Fisk. When he gets his revenge for the bombings.

When he isn't sure he'll come out alive.