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blindfighterIt's around 630 when Matt stops pretending to be asleep.
Though that's a lie, just a tad--Matt has slept. On and off, on his silk sheets and curled up naked with another man in what feels like forever. It's nice, and for a few hours it lasts. It really and truly lasts, and Matt can hear the steady beating of Tim's heart. He can hear every creak as his bones adjust, can still smell scotch and bourbon as he exhales in his sleep. It's not the kind that's overwhelming, it's natural and in a way comforting.
But it's still another person and Matt Murdock is used to being alone. He's used to not getting close.
He's used to one night stands and relationships that barely last a month, if that. He's used to Foggy clapping him on the shoulder and telling him there'll be more.
He's used to going to their place. This is the first time he's brought someone home.
Someone here.
He's brought people over, but not for a one night stand. This is a different circumstance in many ways--mostly that they're going to see each other again. They're going to pass each other in the courtrooms even if they're not going to actively see each other although, if Matt's being honest, he does want to. It had been one of the best lays in a while.
And that's how, at exactly 6:40 in the morning, Matt Murdock decides he can't get used to it just yet. So instead, he gets to work. Turns the alarm off to let Tim sleep in, gets half-dressed (socks, slacks and a dress shirt, the first few buttons undone and the collar a little rumpled), and is in the kitchen. He gets to work.
If this is a one-night stand with special circumstances, he may as well make breakfast. That includes half a grapefruit for each of them, fresh fruit, and Matt himself is in the middle of cooking up some of the bacon and eggs. Simple and scrambled, but if there's one thing Matt can do better than most thanks to his olfactory senses being heightened, it's cook.
Though that's a lie, just a tad--Matt has slept. On and off, on his silk sheets and curled up naked with another man in what feels like forever. It's nice, and for a few hours it lasts. It really and truly lasts, and Matt can hear the steady beating of Tim's heart. He can hear every creak as his bones adjust, can still smell scotch and bourbon as he exhales in his sleep. It's not the kind that's overwhelming, it's natural and in a way comforting.
But it's still another person and Matt Murdock is used to being alone. He's used to not getting close.
He's used to one night stands and relationships that barely last a month, if that. He's used to Foggy clapping him on the shoulder and telling him there'll be more.
He's used to going to their place. This is the first time he's brought someone home.
Someone here.
He's brought people over, but not for a one night stand. This is a different circumstance in many ways--mostly that they're going to see each other again. They're going to pass each other in the courtrooms even if they're not going to actively see each other although, if Matt's being honest, he does want to. It had been one of the best lays in a while.
And that's how, at exactly 6:40 in the morning, Matt Murdock decides he can't get used to it just yet. So instead, he gets to work. Turns the alarm off to let Tim sleep in, gets half-dressed (socks, slacks and a dress shirt, the first few buttons undone and the collar a little rumpled), and is in the kitchen. He gets to work.
If this is a one-night stand with special circumstances, he may as well make breakfast. That includes half a grapefruit for each of them, fresh fruit, and Matt himself is in the middle of cooking up some of the bacon and eggs. Simple and scrambled, but if there's one thing Matt can do better than most thanks to his olfactory senses being heightened, it's cook.
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 08:19 am (UTC)But his suspicions happen often, and it feels like he's ignoring Matt's lies more often than he's hearing the other tell the truth. Tim's not sure he deserves better than what he's getting. But leaving things the way they have been is killing him.
He doesn't reach out for Matt's hand. Maybe it's cruel, but so is Matt lying to his face for months, he thinks. It's how he justifies it anyway. He crosses his arms over his chest, jaw set.
"I'll sit when you tell me what the hell's goin' on. I know you're not clumsy, and I know you didn't get this from boxin' or some shit. So tell me the truth. For once."
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 08:26 am (UTC)"Tim..." he starts to say something but he find he can't quite finish it. Starts to panic, gaze searching for tims face even though he can't actually see anything. It's not hard to make out the desperation in his gaze. It's fear, too.
Fear that the only good thing to happen to him in months is going to drift away.
He has to tell him. He has to tell him something--anything. The freshly stitched stab wounds aren't something you get from boxing.
He closes his eyes. He can't use the car accident excuse. Can't use someone jumping him as one.
"I can't tell you," he says, and his voice is thin. "I'm sorry."
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 08:33 am (UTC)But he's angry now. He's angry that Matt's lied to him. He's angry that he let Matt lie to him. And maybe Matt isn't lying right now, but he sure as hell isn't coming forward with the truth. And he's angry about that, too.
He's angry that this is clearly an argument that could make or break their brand new relationship, and Matt doesn't even care enough to try and save it.
"You can't tell me but you can tell the hot nurse with the long legs." Tim drops his arms, stepping further away from the bed, but not leaving the room. He only has a little bit of time before he has to go back to work. There's no way they'll resolve this before then.
"I don't get it," Tim says truthfully. "I don't get what could be so bad that you can't tell me. Are you robbin' banks? Gettin' your kicks with some underground fight clubs? I don't care if it's illegal, Matt, I just care that you're not tellin' me."
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 08:40 am (UTC)Claire only found him because he was dead in an alleyway, nearly. Matt let's his hand drop, finally, and he remembers what Claire said about martyrs.
They always end up dying. And they always end up alone. Matt's eyes slip closed again, and the worst part about this is that he doesn't blame Tim. He really doesn't.
"I need you to trust me and I need you to trust that I can't tell you. Please. "
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 09:02 am (UTC)He says the words before he can really consider the impact they might have. But it's not like it's untrue. He really can't believe anything Matt says. He spends so much time lying, Tim wonders if he's ever told the truth. If he'd be able to tell the different between Matt lying and Matt being truthful.
Matt Murdock is not the well-mannered lawyer he appears to be. And Tim knew that from the beginning. Really, this is all his fault. Entering into a relationship he knew was doomed to fail.
He presses his lips together, breathing in deep through his nose.
"I've always been honest with you. And you can't even tell me why you won't afford me the same courtesy."
no subject
Date: 2016-08-30 09:36 am (UTC)They don't know how to stop. How to stop fighting, how to stop lying. It's the same thing, even if the causes were good.
It doesn't make it hurt less.
"I'm sorry," He says. He means it. His gaze is near tim, not at Tim, and finally, his eyes close as his fists clench. There's nothing he can do. It's for Tims own good.
Phone tags u before leaving for home
Date: 2016-08-30 07:08 pm (UTC)But he can't. He can't walk away. Not from Matt, not from them. Not from whatever secret Matt is keeping. He won't get the answer today, but he'll get it eventually. One way or another.
And maybe he'll wreck this relationship trying to do so, but hell, Matt already got that ball rolling. Tim will be just finishing the job.
"Okay," he says, his voice low and subdued. "Right. You're sorry. I gotta go back to work. Call me if you feel like talkin'."
He heads for the door without waiting for Matt's response, but stops short just outside the bedroom. He should just go. Nice and clean, making it perfectly clear that he's very not happy. Instead, he says, "Or if you need anything."
This isn't over. They're not over.
Ilu
Date: 2016-08-30 08:17 pm (UTC)He's doing this for people like Tim. To make sure they don't get hurt. He's doing this for them.
He's left smelling tim, his scent lingering somehow even above the pizza, and realizes his hands are shaking.
He's scared. He's scared to lose Tim but even more afraid to stop. That's why he forces himself to meditate.
He needs Fisk down. Starting with the warehouse he learned about.
--
Karen texts Tim within the week. Says that Matt got into a car accident and that he looked pretty beaten up but mostly he was sad, and maybe if Tim could cheer him up it would mean a lot to Karen because her and Foggy have both tried.
Matt doesn't reach out.
Matt is fighting.
--
Stick comes back. That night is eventful but he gets his old weapons back. He learns about black sky and remembers Stick is a shitty father, replacement or otherwise.
The devil of hells kitchen is on a spree. More crime I'd forcibly cleaned up in that week than any other, the majority Yakuza. One abusive husband wakes up in a hospital with a restraining order pinned to his chest.
Matt goes to find Fisk at the warehouse. Instead, Matt finds Nobu.
--
He barely makes it out alive. It's bad. It's worse than before--he barely makes it to his house. The doors locked but he always leaves the windows unlocked when he goes out.
He falls through one, barely hanging on, and crashes against a lamp. He falls onto the table. It looks and sounds an awful lot like someone breaking in.
He swears among all the blood he can small Tim behind the door.
no subject
Date: 2016-08-31 12:52 am (UTC)It's stupid. It's stupid that he's so in love. So in love that even though he hates sleeping in an empty bed, but can't bring himself to invite anybody else into it. After all, it's not as if they've broken up. Tim left it open ended for a reason.
He considers getting a dog before he remembers he hates dogs. This is fucking him up.
Several days past, and Tim dedicates himself to work. To the marshal's service, and to the task force dedicated to hunting down the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. There's more than enough work to occupy him, for the most part. The Devil is active, more active than usual, cleaning up the streets in his usual illegal, vigilante manner. Tim, at least, recognizes that the vigilante is trying to help. It's a the-ends-justify-the-means sort of thing, a mentality Tim recognizes from the military. But the police force doesn't feel the same way.
The Devil's one step ahead of them though, always. They come close one night, but not close enough for it to matter. It keeps Tim busy, though. And that's important.
Karen texts him one day. Tim scoffs out loud at the words car accident. Tim doesn't text her back, and Tim doesn't reach out to Matt, either. But the message eats away at him for days. Matt's sad. Tim shouldn't cave just because Matt's sad, but he feels guilty, if he's being honest. Maybe he has nothing to feel guilty over, but he does. He wants to reconcile.
He wants to make up. Even if he doesn't get the answers he wants.
One night, after working late, he texts Matt. A simple Can I come over? that doesn't get answered. Normally Matt's relatively prompt about texting him back. Tim's equal parts worried and annoyed. Worried that Matt's gotten himself hurt, and annoyed that the other has the gall to ignore him after everything that's been said and done.
So he stops by. Maybe it's rude, but they're past that now. He knocks on the door, and not a second after, there's a crash from inside. Tim frowns. There's another crash, this one more concerning than the last, and Tim acts before he thinks. When the door doesn't open, he draws his gun and shoots the lock, keeping it unholstered as he yanks the door open.
He finds not Matt, but the Devil. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, beat up and bloody and barely breathing on Matt's coffee table. Suddenly, something clicks in his mind. Suddenly, it makes sense. It's ridiculous. It's outrageous and improbable, maybe even impossible. But somehow, it makes sense. Tim swallows hard, gun still drawn and trained on the vigilante as he creeps closer. His weapon never wavers as he kneels down slowly, reaching out to remove the mask covering part of the vigilante's face.