Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3945745.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Daredevil (TV)
Relationship: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Character: Elektra Natchios
Additional Tags: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Good BDSM Etiquette, Safewords,
Safe Sane and Consensual, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sex
Education, BDSM education, Sensual Play, Mutual Pining, Japanese
Rope Bondage, Idiots in Love, Dom/sub, pinwheel, Feathers &
Featherplay, Temperature Play, Rope Bondage, Bondage,
Masochism, matt murdock: come early and often, Face-Fucking,
Flogging, Blow Jobs, Paddling, Sex Club, Oral Sex, Love, Service
Top
Stats: Published: 2015-05-15 Completed: 2015-05-22 Chapters: 4/4 Words:
15181

Algolagnia
by Xela

Summary

Leave it to Foggy Nelson to have to teach Matt Murdock that all pain is not created equal,
and whatever he needs is his for the asking. OR: Matt is the worst baby sub, and for some
reason everyone expects Foggy to lead him down the primrose BDSM path.

Notes

This started off as a fill for the kink meme. This turned into +11,000 words of Foggy and
Matt getting their shit together because I am a massive failure of a writer. I apologize for
everything.

This is complete, I'll update over the next few days as I self-edit and polish each chapter.
 Chapter 1

Its the end of Sophomore year, and Foggy Nelson would like it to be known that he loves
college. Loves it. Its the first place where he feels like he can be himself and people actually like
him. Hes taking awesome classes about stuff that interests him, and hes got a professor whos
really selling him on declaring pre-law next year. Bonus: hes got a Matty now.

He was right about Matt and the ladies, too: dude pulls in an amazing class of woman. Much like
Reagan, he was wrong about his trickle down theory, though. Most of Matts girls and their Matt-
adjacent friends dont really give him a second look. Theyre very nice, but just...not interested.
Its kind of depressing, except Foggy does okay on his own. (Not like, Matt levels of dating, hes
not Blind Foggy Nelson, but hes been told he has an adorkable thing going on and runs with it.)

But Matt usually likes to do his thing away from the dorm room, which: respect. So Foggys
getting some decent study time inPunjabi aint gonna learn himselfwhen someone knocks on
his door. Its unusual because most people respect the sanctity of a closed dorm room door, so
Foggy puts his books aside to find out whats going on.

Standing there is the hottest, most intimidatingly put-together woman Foggys ever met. Not a hair
out of place, her outfit coordinates down to her socks, and featuring a permanent smirk that makes
Foggy think she finds most of the world beneath her, though amusing.

Oh. Hey! Hi. Youre, uh, Mattsthe Greek...one

Elektra, she says, arching an eyebrow at him. He tried to teach himself that move one summer
but never managed, which is unfortunate because it looks hella cool.

Right! Elektra. Matts not here. Except. Didnt you and Matt. Um.

We broke up.

Right! Natchios girlfriend any more. Foggy makes a face at himself and bangs his head into the
doorframe. Shit. Sorry. That was not funny.

It was a little funny, she says, smiling at him, and it really lights up her face. Right, he
remembers liking her the couple times they met, more than most of the others.

Matt still isnt here, Foggy says, and her humor leeches away.

I know. May I come in?

Sure. Mi casa es su casa. She nods regally at him and steps inside. Foggy dithers about whether
or not he should shut the door and decides to leave it slightly cracked.

When he turns around, he finds her standing in the middle of their room, arms crossed, sharp eyes
taking in every detail. Foggy feels judged. He feels judged on Matts behalf too. They live in a
dorm, ok? Choices and space are limited. Still, Foggy quickly gathers up the clothes spread
around his side and shoves them in the closet, aware of Elektra watching him.

Would you like to have a seat? Foggy asks, gesturing at the newly clothes-free, school-issued
desk chair.

Do you know why Matthew and I broke up? Foggy bristles, because Matts pretty vocal about
how much he hates being called by his full name and isnt shy about telling people.
Matt said it didnt work out. Is there a reason youre here talking to me about your relationship?
We arent friends and Im firmly Team Matt. The smile she gives him is a razor, and Foggy feels
like someone just walked over his grave.

Matts a hardcore masochist with highly submissive tendencies who doesnt actually trust anyone
to top him, or trust himself to know his own limits. We broke up because he wanted me to go far
past the bounds of safety, and I refused to be the instrument of someone elses self-harm. His
behavior isnt healthy, and hes a danger to himself and others.

Well. That wasnot what hed been expecting. Hes not really sure what he expected but it
wasntthis. Foggys pretty sure hes gaping stupidly at Elektra, whos just watching him with
this expectant look on her face, and scrambles for something to say.

Have all Matts girlfriends been dommes? The look she gives him is definitely judgmental, but
Foggy has a process, okay? He likes to prioritize his information gathering, ease himself into the
big stuff. Also it might explain a thing or two about why theyre not into him.

Hes not really interested in anything else. And from what I hear, his tastes are...escalating.

Okay. Excuse me, I need to be right back. Foggy lets himself into their suites shared bathroom,
locks the door, and quietly freaks out. When hes done, he forces himself to think through
everything Elektra just said logically, bit-by-bit. When hes unpacked it all, laid it out in his head,
he opens the door with as much dignity that he can muster and reenters the room. Elektra perches
primly in the desk chair, hands folded on her lap and looking way too calm for the bomb she just
dropped.

Okay. Onewhat you just did to me was really unfair and not cool. For a lot of reasons, but just
springing that on a guy? Not okay. Try easing into it next time. Foreplay is a way of life. Two
super not okay that youre telling me Matts secrets. She starts to speak but Foggy cuts her off,
Nope, this is my time to talk, you used your time to be mean and rude. Now Im telling you that
outing someone without their consent is unacceptable. Im pretty sure you know Matt would not
appreciate you telling me these things. He reminds himself to send his pansexual eldest sister an
e-mail so she can share in his indignation. Without mentioning specifics, of course, but the First
Rule still stands: Thou shalt not out. ThreeI really dont know a lot about this stuff youre
talking about. I took human sexuality as my psych elective, and I may have, uh, dabbled in a few
things, but thats all, so Im really not sure how Im supposed to help. Other than tell Matt hes
being stupid, which I can do, a lot and loudly, but I doubt its going to accomplish much. Matts
bullheaded. And I dont know if hed be into He motions to himself and trails off because
wow, okay, that sounded way more pathetic than he intended. He had a four and five but he cant
remember them right now. Elektra arches a meaningful eyebrow at him.

Oh. Right, Im done. For now. I reserve the right to add to and revise my points at anytime in the
future. You may have the floor. Okay, definitely going pre-law.

Thank you. Youre right. I apologize, this was poorly done of me. The person underneath the
perfect mask slips through. Im...still a little angry at Matt and may have unfairly taken it out on
you.

You know, Matts usually pretty good about staying friends with his exes. Its almost
supernatural. I cant imagine what he did to make you so mad. Shes silent for a moment,
fidgeting with a bracelet around her wrist before she answers the implied question.

I trusted Matt to tell me when to stop in a scene. I ignored my own instincts to try and give him
what he wanted and. Well. Lets just say its going to be a long time before I trust myself again.
Jesus, Foggy says, running his hands over his face. Matts Catholic guilt and figurative self-
flagellation has been a running joke between them. It doesnt feel so funny anymore. Or so
figurative.

I know Kaitlyn Powers.

You knowoh. Oh. Foggy blushes. Theyd dated casually for most of Freshman year. Kaity
liked to be tied up, and theyd both taken some beginner rope classes together at a local sex shop,
giggling like idiots when they werent pretending to be mature adults. But that was nothing like
what Elektra is describing.

The community is pretty small, and the school has an unofficial club. Shes one of the reasons I
thought I could approach you.

Im really not, like...deep into it.

I know. Kaitlyn said as much. No details, shes quick to say, hands up, just her general
impressions about you as a person and a dominant.

What do you think I can do? Elektra smooths her flawless hair down and contemplates Foggys
question.

No one will scene with him. Well. No one respectable, or who knows what theyre doing. He
wants too much, too fast. Once I realized he wanted things beyond me, I took him to a couple of
clubs, tried to introduce him to a few experienced people who could help him figure out what he
really needed. He wouldnt listen. Wasnt interested in taking things slow. He finds himself
beginners and pushes them hard and fast, because they often dont realize doms can and should
safeword out as well. Finds himself the people who are just barely allowed in the clubs because
we can try and keep an eye on them. He wont safeword at alldoesnt even like to admit he has
one. He asks for things and endures them. But most of all, he has no trust. In himself, in others, in
the very things hes asking for, to work.

And you think...

I think gender doesnt play as big a role in Mattsneeds as you believe. Foggy doesnt really
agree with that, but whatevs. I think youre the only person in the world he does trust. I met you
twice and honestly didnt know Matt for all that long, but I know that youre special. I cant tell
you what to do with that, but I can tell you that if Matt continues doing this

Yeah, Foggy says, his mind racing in circles. Yeah. I get you.

You may. But the real problem? I dont think hes ever going to stop.

***

Matt doesnt come back to the dorm that night and Foggy cant sleep for worry. Cant help
imagining what Matts doing, whats being done to him, trying to figure out why, whats going on
in that stupid head of his. So he does what he does best and starts researching. Hes got three
separate sets of tabs going with a dozen sites each by the time Matt stumbles into the room and
falls face first on his bed, fully clothed. Before tonight, Foggy wouldnt think twice about it, but
now he finds himself looking for any sign that Matts hurt, wanting desperately to go over and
check for himself.

It becomes part of Foggys routine. He translates the small gestures sighted people take for
granted, guides Matt around obstacles, and checks to see if Matts hurt. The last part is harder than
it should be.
Matts pretty graceful for a human being, blind or otherwiseway more so than Foggy will ever
bebut now that Foggys on the alert he sees the stiffness some days. Observes how tentatively
Matt sits down, how he angles his back away from Foggy when he changes, but cant hide the
flinch when he pulls a t-shirt on. Once he catches a glimpse of bruises high on Matts wrists and
barely stops himself from reaching out. He finds bloody gauze in the trash, and a big box of
assorted band-aids in Matts desk, half used. Sometimes Matt smells of antiseptic and vinegar;
when Foggy googles it, he finds out vinegar is good for treating bruises.

Matt knows somethings wrong, tries to talk to Foggy about it in that roundabout way he has.
Normally thats all the invitation Foggy needs but this time he plays coy, mumbles something
about stress and school and dealing with it. Matt frowns but doesnt push.

Foggy calls Elektra and they make summer plans.

---

Are you sure this is okay? Foggy tugs at the sleeves of his black button up. Hes wearing a
really old pair of faded black jeans that cling. Elektra had declared him passable in a weird tone of
voice, so hes going to trust her, but still.

Elektra rolls her eyes.

You look fine, Foggy. Not everyone is into leather. The meanest dom I know only ever wears
jeans and a grey t-shirt, so relax. Besides, the clubs technically not open.

Shes taking him to a sex club. A BDSM-oriented sex club. It alternately excites and freaks him
out. He doesnt really know what to expect, but if hes going to do somethingand he hasnt
decided whatabout Matt, hes going to do it right. Research only goes so far and he will know
all the things.

When they get there, the exterior of the club is pretty nondescript, just a gold-painted sign on a
black background that says Touch. All the windows are opaque.

Inside theres a small vestibule with a coat check station, unmanned at the moment, and two doors
with no markings to choose from. Elektra breezes past, through the left hand door that leads into a
well kept, well lit bathroom/locker room.

Theres always a monitor in here during business hours. No one gets onto the floor without
checking in. No cell phones, no cameras unless pre-negotiated with the House. Theyre very
serious about security.

Inside looks...like a club. Seating on the periphery, a darkened stage at the front, two bars on
opposite diagonals and a wide, open floor in the middle. The only difference is a preponderance of
metal bars, d-rings, and the implements on the stage and in the corners. He recognizes a St.
Andrews Cross from his research, and he thinks one of the tables on the side might be a vacuum
bed. Its all so...real.

Jerand! Foggy momentarily forgets how to function because the most model-gorgeous man hes
ever is seen is walking towards them. Hed even put Matt to shame, and now Foggy really does
feel underdressed. And like he should go to a gym. At least twice.

Elektra! Weve missed you around here. Whos your friend? Hes cute. Foggy blinks as the
force of that much good looking is directed at him. The mans skin is a beautiful medium brown,
hes got full lips that naturally curve into a smile. His eyes legitimately sparkle. He thinks Foggys
cute.
This is Foggy, he is, and hes here to try and help Matt.

Ah. Good man. Jerand slaps him firmly on the shoulder. Foggy kind of wants to melt into a
puddle on the floor. Let me know if you need anything.

We will. Thanks, Jer. Elektra gets a hug and Foggy feels vaguely jealous.

Who was that beautiful man? Foggy asks, awed.

Jerands one of the owners and acts at the general manager, Elektra says, smirking at him. If
you ever need help, hes your go-to guy.

I really dont think Im heterosexual anymore, Foggy says distantly.

He has that effect on most people, Elektra says, a little wistfully. Now, let me introduce you to
Cass and Elton. Theyll be able to answer all of your questions. Theyre both practicing
psychiatrists and volunteer as sex educators in their free times. Believe me when I say there is
nothing you could say that they havent already heard before.

Which is how Foggy starts his second major: Kinky Sex, with a concentration in sadism and a
minor in bondage. Its actually a great way to spend summer break.

Bondage 101 begins with what Cass calls proper BDSM etiquette. It comes with a list of words,
phrases and acronyms Foggys expected to know (hes proud to say he could probably define
about half this based on the reading hes already done). These things can get surprisingly
complicated and specific; it alternatively eases Foggys mind (he is aaaaallllll about the
enthusiastic consent, that is fantastic, why hadnt he heard about this concept sooner??) and
worries the hell out of him (because he cant imagine doing this without all those safeguards,
which Matt undoubtedly is).

Somewhere around his 200-level classes, Cass and Elton have an incredibly entertaining (though
slightly mystifying) argument about the relative merits of Safe, Sane and Consensual (SSC)
versus Risk Aware Consensual Kink (RACK) as fundamental BDSM philosophies. Foggys
pretty sure he knows where Matt will fall.

It takes a while for Foggy to cotton onto the fact that Elektra introduced him to, like, the Whos
Who of New Yorks BDSM community. They all know each other, and Foggy meets other
people, a few he recognizes from the society pages, though Cass and Elton are his main mentors.
Jerand has the most zen aura Foggys ever encountered. The man answers any and every question
with professional thoroughness and lack of judgment, and knows everyone. Hes like a walking
rolodex of kinksters; you have a question about something, hell tell you who to talk to.

Jerands the person Foggy goes to with his concerns about Matts straightness. Hes also the first
person he actually admits his own non-straightness to. He doesnt feel like bisexual fits, but he
hasnt really stumbled upon any label he wants to claim, either. He leaves that conversation with
some reading on platonic kink and relationships, as well as an assurance that if he decides his
sexuality is Whatever Foggy feels like today, thats as acceptable as any other label. He also
gets a hug, which, yeah: definitely not straight.

Sometimes Foggy feels guilty about taking up so much of their time, cause he isnt even really
into all this stuff. Well. Most of it.

Okay, yeah, he kind of likes tying people up. Ropes are fun, probably his favorite part, and he
likes what Cass calls sensual sensation play. But the whole hitting-whipping-bruising aspect of
it isnt really his jam, though after he figures out safewords and limits and negotiating he finds he
doesnt mind it. Hes just never going to get off on it. (Not like the first time he sees Cass scene
with her submissive; theres something about their energy, the feedback they get from one another,
thats erotic and mesmerizing. He discovers he may be something of a voyeur.)

He stutters over explaining this jumble of thoughts to Cass, who looks at him fondly.

Darling boy. No one is ever 100% into what someone else is. We all make compromises
between, with, and for our partners, regardless if its in a scene or a more vanilla relationship.
The important part is that you dont do something that harms you. Or your partner. If you hate
something someone needs to be happy, you figure out how deal with it. Even if that sometimes
means going your separate ways.

Oh, Foggy says. Hes probably learned more about having healthy relationships in these last
few months than the entire rest of his life.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Summer passes and Junior year finds Matt and Foggy rooming together again. Foggy tries not to
stress about the trouble Matt might have gotten into over the summer when he wasnt around.
Hed made an awkward play to get Matt to crash at Casa Nelson, but as much Matt loves Foggys
family (and Foggys family adores him in return), he can only take the chaos of the Franklin
household for about three days before he starts looking pained. Matt prefers his own, much quieter
space for the most part.

A month into the semester, Foggys still dithering about what to do with Matt (and how to do it,
hes not going to pull an Elektra and just drop that bomb out of the blue), when the man in
question stumbles home late one night, punch-drunk and clumsy. His usual grace is nowhere to be
found; he must run into every piece of furniture in their dorm room trying to find his bed, which is
a straight shot from the door.

Foggys fallen asleep reading again, so theres just enough light that when he wakes up to Matt
bumping into his desk and sending something clattering to the floor, he sees the thin line of russet
red against the clear white of Matts shirt as he strips out of his cardigan. It takes him a sleep-
addled minute to recognize what it is and

What the fuck, Matthew!

Matt jumps and loses his balance, arms trapped in his sweater. Foggy barely gets to him in time to
direct his fall onto the bed.

Foggy! Heeeeeey. Whatreyou But Foggys already yanking Matts shirt up, examining the
inexpertly placed marks on Matts back and he gets really, truly angry for the fifth time in his life.

Matts back is a mess of bruises and welts. Lash marks cover most of the skin, more than a few
wrapping around his ribs onto Matts front. There are at least four places where the skin cut open,
stripes of rust colored blood smeared over abused skin. No ones tended or treated them. Hed
guess the damage was done by a single tail, except some of these marks look to hard for that.
Foggy reaches out with a shaky hand and lightly follows the snaking curl of one vicious welt.
Matt gasps and pitches forward, head hanging down.

Foggy. Hes never heard Matts voice sound that way and for a second it derails Foggy
because it sounds like sex. And then like panic. Foggy! You dont understand, its not what you
think. I can explain

They used a cane, Foggy says, appalled. A cane over soft tissue and organs, near his spine.

What?

You dont use a cane on anything but the butt and upper thighs, maybe the upper shoulders,
unless youre really, really good. You can damage organs. Break skin. Bruise bone. Cause serious
damage. Matt. What the hell are you thinking?

How do you know all that?

Dont move. Foggy retrieves the emergency first aid kit Elton tricked out for him. Theres some
prescription-strength cream in there and Foggy has to wonder if he saw something like this
coming. He grabs a bottle of water and a blanket as well.

Drink this, he says. Matt takes the bottle and moves as if to speak. Dont talk to me right now.
Matt shuts his stupid mouth with a click. He tucks the blanket around Matts front, leaving his
back exposed. He smears the cream liberally over Matts cuts and bruises, doing a spot-check at
the same time, another thing Elton taught him that Foggys so, so thankful for. Doesnt seem to be
any internal damage, no swelling that he can detect though hes far from an expert.

Unlike every other submissive Foggys worked with, Matts strung out rather than mellow or
relaxed in the aftermath of a scene; his muscles are like rocks underneath Foggys hands, speaking
to a deep-seated tension that goes far beyond the awkwardness sitting heavy between them.

You seem, uh...good at this, Matt finally says, head tilted towards Foggy, whos getting close
enough to Matts pant line that hes considering the ethics of demanding Matt strip down
completely. Theres no telling what kind of abuse hell find on Matts ass and thighs. Be he
doesnt know what Matts mental state is, or how the order will be taken. Hes clearly not obeying
Foggy about the shutting up thing, but that doesnt mean much.

Shit, what if Matt goes into subdrop? Whats Foggy supposed to do then? A depressed Matt
would be terrible; the man already has the whole Catholic guilt weight-of-the-world thing going
on.

Foggy? Foggy gives it up as a bad idea and moves to sit in front of Matt. Some of the damage
has spilled onto his chest. He lays his hand over a particularly dark, vicious cane mark high on
Matts shoulders. Its warm to the touch and slightly swollen, really close to the scapula. Foggy
makes a note to keep an eye on it.

I know how to use the internet, Matt. Its an equivocation, but Foggy doesnt feel up to talking
right now, and he really doubts Matt is either. Matt clearly doesnt believe him, lips pinching
together in that way he gets when he knows someones lying but doesnt want to call them out.
Foggy sighs. We can talk about it in the morning.

Matt makes an inarticulate noise Foggy takes for agreement, then slumps forward until his head
rests against Foggys shoulder. Foggy pauses, just for a moment, and then gently wraps Matt up in
a hug. He realizes Matts shaking a little under the blanket, fine tremors that pulse through him. He
holds Matt until the shaking subsides and theyre sitting in the low light, the night getting older.

Foggy is abruptly bone tired and done with today.

Come on, lets go to sleep, he says, voice low. Matt doesnt say anything, but his fingers tighten
briefly in Foggys shirt before he pulls away. Foggy tucks Matt in, making sure there are
painkillers and a bottle of water within easy reach.

Sleep takes a while.

---

Foggy wakes up feeling groggy and hungover. For the millionth time he bemoans the lack of
room service in the dorms into his pillow. Does the school even realize how much money theyre
missing out on here?

Foggy. Matts voice is muggy and amused. Are you thinking about dorm room service again?

...it would be super efficient and profitable! Matt huffs a laugh and Foggy finds himself
grinning. It feels normal, which just sends reality raining on Foggys parade. Foggy rolls over onto
his side to look at Matt, who is stretched out on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow and
back exposed to the air.

Tension blankets the room. Foggys really bad at waiting people out, but in this case he cant
figure out how to broach the subject. However, Matt has never been overly forthcoming and
would probably outlast a brick wall.

So, Foggy says, you wanna start? Matt sighs.

I know you dont understand. But I need this.

No you dont. Foggy sits up so he can glare properly at Matt. Imagines lasers shooting out of his
eyes and hitting Matt square in his stupid, bruised, well-defined chest.

Foggy, I

No one needs this, Matt. This is so wrong I dont even know where to start with you. Jesus, did
you even discuss limits? Because I cant imagine someone who caned you over the kidneys was
really diligent about asking what your soft and hard limits are, much less respecting them! And
was there any aftercare at all? Because didnt see any evidence of treatment on your back, buddy,
and Im going to bet dollars to doughnuts they were never supposed to draw blood, that you never
talked about that. Whoever you hooked up with is a fucking amateur who needs a caningon the
backsideand some corner time to think about what they did! That last part came out pure Cass,
whom Foggy has seen put the fear of God into more than one baby kinkster over the past few
months. Her favorite method is to make peoplewannabe subs and doms alikestand with their
nose touching the corner and their hands behind their head. When Foggy had questioned this
method of punishment, Cass had dryly suggested he try it out himself. Hed be surprised to realize
how hard it was to keep your arms up like that for an extended period of time.

How

Whats your safeword?

Excuse me?

Your safeword, Matt. What was it? The silence turns mulish and stubborn. Matty.

It wasnt serious. Just a one night stand.

That is not an answer. Moreover, thats a situation where you need one the most.

Moreover? Matt asks, sounding amused. Foggy is not buying Matts bullshit. Not today.

Stop it, Matty. The humor bleeds out and hes once again left with quiet, brooding Matt
Murdock.

What do you know about it, anyways? Matt says, all challenge and defensiveness. Foggy
remembers Elektras words from so long ago, about Matts trust issues, and figures in for a penny,
start as you mean to go on and all that jazz.

I know how to hit someone without drawing blood, Foggy says pointedly. And I know about
your, uh, tastes. Elektra told me. A while ago. The tension zings through Matts body, like
someone ran electricity through him. And about why you broke up.

We werent compatible, Matt says shortly.

Yeah, I picked up on that, Foggy says. He gets up and shuffles over to Matt, sits on the edge of
the bed. Shes scary, but means well. And I totally yelled at her for breaking your trust like that,
but. Shes very worried about you. People who dont know you are worried about you. And I
know that freaks you out. Matts not really a center stage kind of guy; he prefers to sneak up on
you like some kind of social ninja and then slink away while youre trying to figure out what just
happened.

Foggy Foggy presses into one of Matts less vicious bruises, right on the meat of his shoulder.
He gasps and...ripples, simultaneously trying to arch into the pain and get away from it. Buries his
face in his pillow as if thatll hide anything from Foggy.

Ive been studying this stuff. For you. Its weird to articulate. Its been almost five months since
Elektra waltzed into his life and turned it upside down and hes never actually come out and said
that this has all been for Matt.

Oh. Matt has that same look on his face as when Foggy first met him and called him handsome.

Yep. So lets make a deal. Or, no. lets make a promise. I do understand that theres something in
this you need. Something in the pain, and maybe in the submission, or an in between, all of the
above kind of thing. But ifwhen, when you need something like this, you come to me, and Ill
take care of it. Well do it right. No, like, sexy stuff, but Ive learned a lot, enough to give you
something like this, but safer, he waves his hand at Matts back. Im motioning to your back, by
the way. Anything I dont know we can figure out together. Okay? Foggys never considered
himself really dominant, not in the way Cass just exudes control and Elton can turn it on as he
pleases. But right now? Right now Foggy feels like everything is sharp and clear, the world in
bright focus, and he is in control. Admittedly, his world is mostly Matt.

Matt. Do we have an agreement?

Yes. Foggy feels a moment of relief before he realizes the massive responsibility hes just taken
on. He wont let his best friend down. He cant.

***

They dont really discuss it again. Matts jumpy and weird around him for a while, but Foggy
treats him exactly like normalsave for his insistence on making sure Matts back heals well
and after a couple weeks they settle back into their easy friendship. They go drinking, and discuss
futures, and theyre going to be the best damned avocados New York has ever seen. Watch out,
world! (Matt still wont give him any more details on what went wrong with Elektra, but that may
be a stone better left unturned.)

Thats when Foggy leaves the massive stack of reading hes been secretly printing on Matts
braille printer inside Matts Constitutional Law through the Lens of Higher Education class
folder. It covers everything from SSC/RACK (yeah, Matts RACK all the way, go figure), to
limits and why theyre important for both parties, and one in particular about the potential
consequences for the other party if someone doesnt safeword out when things go too far. Matt
may hurt himself, but Foggy is staking his mental health on the fact that Matt wont do anything to
hurt him.

It also includes a checklist of various interests and kinks. Matt leaves that tucked in the pages of
Foggys Introduction to Human Rights textbook. With comments in Braille. Murdock thinks
hes got jokes. It takes Foggy a couple of days to translate everything in between his homework
assignments, but to be fair hes faster at reading braille by the end of it than he was when he
started, so theres that. Its also thoroughly unsurprising that Matt only marked interests and full-on
YESes rather than setting any kind of limits. Some of the yes-stuff is sexy stuff, but this is a
general list, and Foggys really not sure what to make of that. Snark is not a stated limit, and an
absence of no is not a yes, damn it, Matt.

It takes a little over a month before Matt breaks. Foggy watches him get increasingly jumpy and
fidgety and unfocused until he comes home to Matt sitting rigidly on his bed, cane clutched in
hand and unseeing eyes darting around the room.

Hey, Foggy says, keeping his voice steady. Inside hes nervous and scared and anticipatory and
all sorts of other things. Matt frowns, head tilting like hes listening to something far away.
Matty?

I, uh. Matt clears his throat, flustered, but Foggy waits. I need...you know. Cass and Elton
would have a field day with how terrible Matt is at expressing his own wants.

Okay. How bad?

What?

Can you give me a couple days to arrange a few things? Or do you need it now? I mean, the
dorms arent really great for this, people are nosey, but Im sure we could come up with
something. Matts got that weirded out look on his face again, like Foggy might have been
replaced with a pod person.

No, I, ah. I can...wait. For you.

Cool, man. Ill let you know real soon, okay?

He calls Cass, Elton, and Jerand on his way to class. He dithers about calling Elektra, but shes
Matts ex and that seems...weird. And maybe a bad idea. They text occasionally, check in with
one another, but he doesnt offer her any specifics and she doesnt ask, so.

By the time he gets out of class he has three messages on his phone and a text from Jerand
offering him a back room during non-business hours, for as long as he needs it. They all agree to
be at the club Wednesday from 5 on for him, as long as he needs them there, and Foggy loves
them each so hard right now.

---

Monday night, Foggy tells Matt to clear his Wednesday evening so he has a limited amount of
time to brood on things. Matt doesnt ask for specifics so Foggy doesnt offer them. Foggys not
quite sure what to make of that. Being blind, specifics are usually necessary for Matt to move
safely and confidently through the world. Its a humbling reminder of the position hes in.

They dont talk a lot on the way to the club. Because Foggy is terrible at estimating trip times, they
end up at Touch later than he intended.

The usual level of quiet preparatory bustle for a bar is going on. The bartender is doing inventory
with some of her staff, a couple bar backs are mopping the floor, a few of the Monitors are
checking over equipment, talking and joking around. There are a few regulars just hanging out
casually, all people Foggy knows.

No one makes a big deal out of them being there, which Foggy is grateful for.

Is this...a club? Matt asks, and Foggy feels like a jerk. Hes been so wrapped up in his own head
he forgot to talk Matt through what was going on.

Oh, sorry! Yeah. Kinda. Its called Touch. Matt grins, a bit grimly, his cane tapping rapidly
against the floor. There are two locker rooms, we came through one to get in here. But theyre
only nominally mens and womens. Theres, uh, overlap? Like, some people fit in with the
atmosphere of one more than the other? I havent really figured it out. Ive only been here during
regular hours a few times.

Huh.

Jerand nods to him from where hes talking to the bartender and flashes Foggy seven fingers.
Room seven is their, then. He glances to the other side of the room at Cass and Eltons usual table,
and almost laughs because they both have tiny, sparkly pompoms that they shake in his direction
when they see him looking.

Yeah. It seems to work. This place is safe. Were on the main floor. Its kind of like a
warehouse? Very minimalist, bare walls and floors, open floor plan. There are seats and tables
against the sides. And some, um, specialty furniture too. A lot of it can be moved into the center as
needed. Theres a stage across from us thats used for...displays.

Displays. Right. Theres nervousness to Matt that hasnt been there before.

Yeah, but were going to the back. There are rooms there. We have one of the private ones.

Okay. Lead on, MacDuff.

Their rooms pretty Spartan: bar walls, one with striking implements affixed to it like a mechanics
tools; a pair of leather cuffs dangling from chains on the ceiling; a comfortable pallet in one corner,
with Foggys first aide kit beside it, and the same blanket hed wrapped Matt up in what feels like
a lifetime ago, as well as water, granola bars, and chemical ice packs. Thats it.

Foggy describes the layout to Matt as he sets down their bag by the pallet. When hes done, he
takes a deep breath and reminds himself Jerand, Cass and Elton will be within summoning
distance for as long as he needs them. Hes not alone in this. Matt is not alone in this. And Matt
needs this.

So. Okay. House rules applythat means the light system is in place. You know what that is?

Red, yellow, green, Matt murmurs, ears turning red.

And they mean...?

Foggy, Matt whines, tapping his cane harder on the floor. Foggy steps right into Matts space,
deadly serious, and Matt freezes.

My room. My rules. I dont care how stupid you think they are, you will answer every question
and do exactly what I say. You hear me?

Y-yes, Matt breathes. Foggy stays there for another second, then steps back.

Well?

Red for stop. Yellow for slow down. Green for go.

Good, Foggy says, short and clipped. Strip down to your boxers, but you may choose whether
they remain on or not. Matt takes off his shirt, folds it, and then hovers uncertainly. Foggy steps
in to take it from him, does the same with Matts shoes, socks, and pants, setting them by the bag.
Matts tight, thin black briefs remain on, which is just a little bit relieving and just a little bit
disappointing.
Do you want to explore the room? Mat thinks about it, shakes his head no. Alright.

Foggy guides him to the center of the room where the cuffs are set up, takes Matts hand and
shows them to him.

When youre ready, put them on. That startles Matt, but Foggy doesnt offer him an
explanation. Matt runs his fingers over the soft lining, supple leather, and high quality stitching.
Theyre specifically designed so they can be self-tied with a bit of effort (and are easy to release in
case something goes wrong), and theres currently enough give in the chains that Matt can use his
other hand to help. It isnt until Matts buckled in, testing the give and weight of his bonds, that it
truly hits Foggy that this is real. Hes going to do this for his best friend. Beat his back until its
bruised and hes exorcised whatever demons haunt him. Holy shit.

Foggy? Matt asks, sounding small. Right, this is so not about Foggy right now. He rolls his
shoulders to loosen up the tension. He steps up and hugs Matt from behind, lets them both
just...be, in this space, together. He needs the grounding, and Matt only stays tense for a couple of
breaths until he leans back into Foggy.

Color?

Green.

Good. Foggy rubs his cheek against Matts shoulder, then steps to the side and adjusts the
chains until Matts stretched upward, feet flat on the ground, arms straight above him. He can get a
little slack by rocking up on the balls of his feet, but not much. Foggy tests this by poking Matt in
the back and making him rock forward. He gets away with it twice more before Matt growls at
him. Foggy cant help the giggle that breaks free. He catches sight of Matts face and sees the half-
smile he cant quite quash and thinks: I can do this.

He pets Matts back, grounding himself, letting Matt know hes there, just getting the feel for the
muscle. He can feel Matt start to get antsy at the contact, the intimacy of it, eager to get on with
things. Tough cookies, Murdock. Foggy keeps touching and fussing with things until Matt breaks.

Fog-gy, Matt says petulantly, rattling the chains.

Color, Matthew? he says primly, and Matt huffs.

Hulk green. Foggy cant help but laugh at that. Smart ass.

Just for that, Im going to spend the rest of tonight tickling you with feathers. Matt turns and
glares in his general direction. Just kidding, thats for later.

He warms Matt up with a rubber flogger. Its an obnoxious orange color and not really meant to
hurt, just bring the blood up to the surface. He swings it in a figure 8, keeping up a steady,
continuous stream of hits. He uses the color of Matts shoulders to judge the parts of him he cant
see. When hes satisfied, he replaces the flogger and checks in on Matt.

He lookslike hes at a movie thats taking too long to get to the good part. Patience, thy name is
not Matt Murdock, but it is Foggy Nelson, and hes the one in control but this metaphor has
gotten away from him.

Foggys selects a flicker whip to start with. He takes it off the wall and lets Matt see it by
running it over Matts shoulders and down his back. Its a long, fairly rigid implement with a short
popper on the end. It should sting nicely while letting Foggy keep maximum control. He steps
back to the proper distance, takes a few practices swings, and pauses. Waits until the tension in
Matt builds from waiting.

Right when he thinks Matt is about to lose his mind, Foggy gives his first direct order:

Ask.

What? Matts entire demeanor changes. He stands a little straighter, puts his study face on, a
little furrow appearing between his eyes. His attention is focused solely on Foggy for the first time.

Youre going to ask for every hit, Foggy says. One of the best parts of being mentored by a
couple of shrinks? Theyre really on point in giving him tips on how to differentiate himself
between anyone who came before. A major part of BDSM is psychological, and that parts been
underserved for Matt so far. So Foggy is going to make Matt engage. Hes going to have to ask
for what he thinks he wants, instead of enduring whatever someone throws at him. I fully expect
you to safeword out if it gets to be too much. However, if you cant ask, or cant stay on your feet
anymore, Im taking that as a red. Got me?

Yes.

Good. Whenever youre ready.

Time ticks by, almost a full minute by the time a hoarse, Please, makes its way out of Matts
throat. Foggy lets fly, lands his strike land heavy on the curve of Matts shoulder. Matt gasps, back
arching.

Again, he says, voice firmer, and Foggy started moving the moment he took in the breath so the
blow lands bare milliseconds after Matt speaks, right underneath Matts shoulder blade. He rocks
forward, the chains clinking.

Matt sets a fast pace that gains momentum, until hes chanting, chasing his high. Foggy directs the
whip over Matts upper shoulders, then down to his ass and thighs. Other than Matts requests and
the sound of the whip falling, the room remains oddly quiet. If he werent under orders to ask for
what he wanted, Foggy thinks he wouldnt have heard anything louder than a grunt out of Matt.

At twenty-five Foggys sweating and his arm throbs a little. And Matts clearly not getting enough
out of the flicker, light as it is. Time to switch things up.

Yellow, Foggy says, and Matt stumbles over his next again. At least he respects the system
(when it comes from someone else).

Foggy strips off his shirt and grabs a bottle of water, chugging half and then giving Matt the rest.
He trails his fingers over Matts red skin, pushes down on some of the darker marks and makes
Matt moan softly. He hadnt been thinking about this sexually until that very moment, and hastily
backs away. They have not talked about that aspect at all.

Im switching to a stock whip, Foggy says, his voice a little shaky. It has a long, rigid handle, a
longer, more flexible thong than the flicker; its a more serious whip and will make a much louder
noise as well. Foggys going to focus this one on Matts ass and thighs.

Color? Foggy prompts.

Green, Matt assures him.

Whenever youre ready.

May I have another? Matt asks; its jokey, but theres a note of pleading underneath. He jumps
more from the sound of the first strike than the pain, Foggy thinks, but Matt definitely feels the
difference. Foggy can do a lot more damage with a lot less strength. The first few strikes are Matt
trying to figure it out; Foggy keeps him guessing, varying the strength and placement. One hit is
just a whisper of sensation, and Matts next again carries frustration with it.

Hes even quieter than before, wrapping his hands around the chains to steady himself. But soon
enough his asks start to feellazy. Rote. Like hes just humoring Foggy. This isnt enough for
him and hes getting bored.

Foggy counts thirty strikes before Matt starts slowing down. Hes breathing a little harder, and
sweat makes his skin glisten, but the tension is still there in his muscles. In his very voice. For the
next five hits, Foggy really bears down, making Matt grunt and flinch. The five after that are
softer, teasing, and Matt lets himself sag into the cuffs with a sigh of, another.

Hes trapped on an edge and hes given up hope of being pushed over it. Hes just done the one
thing that, until now, has always separated him from everyone else: underestimated Foggy.

Another, Matt says, even and unenthused. Foggy accommodates his request. Theres a brief
moment where Matt realizes something is different and then hes rocking forward, trying to take a
step but the chains jerking him up short, a loud shout building in his throat.

After a few failed attempts, he sucks in deep, ragged breath.

What Foggy lays a matching strike on Matts other ass cheek with the Dragon Cane he used
Matts bored distraction to pick up. Its thin, whippy, and it cuts like nothing Foggy, personally,
ever wants to feel again. The one test hit Cass laid on him did Foggy in for a day; the sensation
lingers. Matt literally tries to haul himself up the chains, his legs leaving the ground with a shout.
Its almost a full pull-up before Matt crashes back to the floor, his knees buckling on contact.

Foggys behind him instantly, supporting Matt with an arm around his chest. Matt leans back into
him and there are tears on his face, flowing free. Matt cant even keep his head up, allowing it to
fall against Foggys shoulder.

Just breathe through it, Foggy advises. Matt turns slightly so his nose brushes against Foggys
cheek, breath shuddering out in soft pants.

Color? Foggy asks, lips moving against sweat-slick hair.

Green, Matt says, shaky. God, please.

Alright. He tilts Matt up till his legs are back underneath him. Finally, finally, the tension is
ebbing out of Matt.

Again, please, Matt says, and he sounds reverent. Foggy makes him wait before striking him
roughly in the same place as last time; he could be more precise if he could see the mark he left,
under Matts thin briefs. Matt jerks, chest heaving. Matts voice gets more ragged, more strained;
hes close to sobbing.

Foggy. Foggy, Foggy, p-please. I... Foggy has placed all the blows on Matts ass so far, and
theyre both reaching their limit. He goes with his instinct and lays this one across Matts
shoulders, with as much force as he feels comfortable with.

The reaction is incandescent.

Matt screams and his knees go, his muscles practically liquefying. Foggy drops the cane and steps
in front of Matt, wrapping his arms around Matts torso in a bear hug, hoisting him up. Matts
reddened back feels like fire against Foggys arms. He murmurs soothing words of praise and
comfort, though Matts likely too far gone in his own head to really hear them.

Carefully, Foggy releases one cuff, draping Matts arm over his shoulder, and repeats the process
with the other. Matt curls into him, nose buried in Foggys neck, tears slick on his cheeks, taking
short, shuddering breaths as he rides his pain high. Foggy takes all of Matts weight, and that feels
just as literal as it is figurative.

He guides them, clumsy and uncoordinated, to the foam pallet in the corner, maneuvers them both
down so that Matts mostly leaning against Foggy, wrapped in a blanket, almost an exact
recreation of that first confrontation. He trails his hands over Matts back, pressing into a few of
the welts. Matt shudders against him, presses close, and Foggy holds him, drawing out the
endorphin rush with little aftershocks of pain. Matts more hard than not, but doesnt seem to be
paying a lot of attention to his erection. Foggy lets himself wonder what this would be like if sex
were part of the equation, what it might add for each of them. But that isnt on the table, so as long
as its not causing Matt distress, Foggy will keep ignoring it.

This right here is what Foggy loves about this world hes stumbled into: Matt relaxed against him,
trusting him, letting Foggy take care of him. He feels calm. Content. Closer to Matt than ever,
attuned to his every move, his every breath. Imagines he can hear the thud of Matts heartbeat.

Matt stirs, looking for a more comfortable position. Foggy force-feeds him water first, cleans
Matts face up, and checks over the marks he left. No blood. Matt remains startlingly compliant
throughout. At some point his fingers wrap around Foggys wrist and wont be moved. Which is
fine.

They curl up together on the mattress, warm underneath the fluffy blanket, Matts ear pressed to
Foggys chest.

tgo? Matt mumbles sleepily.

We have as long as we want, Foggy murmurs. Take a nap.

K. Matt drifts to sleep, clinging to Foggy like a limpet. Neither of them are moving anytime
soon, and Foggy congratulates himself on keeping some of those granola bars close at hand when
his stomach rumbles.

About a half hour into Matts impromptu nap, theres a soft knock and the door cracks open.
Jerand sticks his head in, spies them in the corner and smiles.

You good? he asks, voice pitched low. Foggy gives him a thumbs up, feeling dazzled by the
mans smile. That will probably never change. Need anything? Foggy shakes his head. We
open in 20. Youre good in here, but youll start hearing some foot traffic. Foggy salutes him and
mouths thank you. Jerand salutes him and quietly closes the door. And that seems to push
Foggy right into naptime as well.

---

When Foggy comes to, Matts already awake, stretched out on his side, facing Foggy with his
head resting on his hand. If he could see, hed probably be studying Foggy while he slept.

Hey, Foggy says, and grins when Matt startles.

Hi. His voice is lower than normal, and his eyes are still a bit puffy and red.

How are you? He runs his fingers lightly over the cane mark on Matts shoulders. The skin is
warm and the mark is pretty raised, even to his inexpert touch. But its as textbook as it can be,
edges precise and clean, on muscle and nowhere near bone. Foggy feels proud of himself. Matt
clears his throat and shifts underneath Foggys touch. Oh my God. Are you blushing?

Foggy, Matt warns. Hes up against the wall, so theres nowhere for him to turn or hide.

You are! Youre Blushing Matt Murdock!

Foggy! Matt mock-swipes at him, Foggy slaps back, and soon theyre having a slap fight,
giggling like idiots. Like Foggy hadnt just taken a couple whips to Matts back, broken him down
until he was a sobbing mess.

Its an effective tension breaker, though, and soon they subside into an easy, if expectant, quiet.
Its startling at how relaxed Matt is. Its nothing Foggy knows how to describe; mostly an absence
of something in Matt that Foggy hadnt realized had been so prevalent.

So we should debrief, Foggy says to the ceiling. Matt looks at him, brows raised, and Foggy
rolls his eyes. That is a terrible pun, Matt, do not release it into the world. Matt grins and oh. Oh.

Right, Matt says. Debriefing.

Yep. How...was it? The look Matt gives him is unimpressed. Hey, Ive never actually done
this solo before! So, you know. Just tell me what was good and what was better. Matt smirks and
pushes Foggy to the very edge of the pallet so he can gingerly lie on his back. Their sides press
tight together. He wiggles, which has to rub the marks on his back against the rough sheet, and
sighs in contentment.

I, uh. Like it on my the shoulders.

I noticed, Foggy says evenly. Points to his instincts.

And. The whips were fine. Thewas that a cane?

Yeah, Foggy says. Its real expensive. I borrowed it for tonight. Its pretty heavy duty. One of
the meanest out there, Im told. I was, um, cautioned that once might be too much. But youve
always been an overachiever.

Hmmmm, Matt says. It was good. Matt blushes again, and Foggy doesnt call him on it, but
he cant keep the smug grin off his face.

Im sure I can borrow it again some time. What else? Matt squirms again, and he cant be doing
anything but deliberately rubbing his back against the mattress.

Maybe next time, and theres a hitch there, just a little one that makes Foggy wonder what's up,
add in something...warmer?

Warmer? What, were the whips cold? Foggys joking, but Matt shrugs, looking self-conscious.
Huh. Okay. Whips are cold and...whats warm?

Paddles, Matt says, in the same way someone admits to embarrassing past sexcapades to a new
boyfriend. The pain isspread out? And more encompassing. It just feels warm.

Ok. So more thuds, less stings. Do you prefer the thud or do you like the mix? Matt shrugs.
Thats cool. Well figure it out. Might get a little difficult to mix paddles in with the shoulders
because, you know, lots of bone, wide and unforgiving tools. But well figure something out.
Maybe a stiffer kind of tawse? Ill ask around.
 ...thanks, Matt says, in the awkward he has whenever anyone does something nice for him.
Foggy doesnt call him on this blush this time, just knocks their shoulders together and plots.
When theyre finally ready to go, they slip out the back, and go to get some food. Seems he didnt
fuck this up too badly.

---

He calls Cass and Elton the next day, when Matt has a late class, and they get him smashingly
drunk. So drunk. He is the drunkest Foggy, the one who goes on rants about why hes not a
Franklin and his parents should have known better but they didnt so he had to go and name
himself and the best he could come up with as a three year old was Foggy. Still better than
Franklin.

Hes also pretty sure he says something about how Matts trust is floppy, and sacred, and his hair
looks like a squirrel fucked a hurricane. All of which they accurately translate into the fact that
Foggy might want to keep Matt forever.

He wakes up the next morning more hungover than he has ever been in his life.

Will you please kill me? he moans.

Oh honey, Cass says, far too loudly. No. Were having way too much fun watching your train
wreck of a life. Now get up, Ill call Elton, and well buy you breakfast before class. Fuck. Class.

Foggy barely makes it to the bathroom and vomits to the sound of Casss evil, wicked witch
laughter and flashes of lasts night drunken confessions flashing through his brain.

Chapter End Notes

Foggy's better at this whole 'communication' thing than Matt, but some would call
that damnation by faint praise. It's also really hard to write platonic BDSM between
an amateur hardcore masochist and a n00b.

Sorry about the delay, I had to go watch Mad Max 3 times this weekend.
 Chapter 3

They go to the club during regular hours once and only once. Matt cant handle the noise, the
sheer press of bodies when things get going. Foggy flags down a Monitor, who summons Jerand,
and they end up in his office. Jerands charm extends to the blind, and Foggy pats Matts shoulder
sympathetically when he turns a dazed, dumbstruck look towards him. Jerand leaves them with
the reassurance that room seven is theirs whenever they need it; they make a standing Tuesday
appointment every two weeks.

Matt also gets to meet Cass and Elton that night. Elton promptly absconds with Matt, pulling him
into a corner and monopolizing his attention. Cass doesnt let Foggy go over there or eavesdrop,
which is not what Foggy calls being a good Kink Mentor. When Elton brings Matt back Foggy
has no idea what to make of the look on his face. He puts his arm protectively around his best
friend and glares at Elton.

Elton coos at him, using words like adorable and cutegasm. Cass mumbles something about
heads and blocks. Foggy wont hear it, and he wont respond to it. But whatever they talked
about, Elton and Matt exchanged numbers. Foggy would love to know what Matt and Elton are
texting so furiously (and secretively) about.

Still, even if Matt and Elton do end up colluding, he counts the trip a success. They settle into a
schedule that works for them, and Foggy can sleep easy at night knowing Matts okay.

---

The end of the semester rolls around and they get busy with finals, both of their routines falling by
the wayside. Foggys tired and overworked, cranky and ready for this semester to be over. He
goes from final to study session to bed, rinse repeat ad nauseum. Hes got a 15 page paper due as
well, which is just the worst.

He doesnt notice how Matt gets quiet and jittery, flinching at loud noises and lines taking up
residence around his eyes. Hes not around enough to notice, and he kicks himself for it when he
comes home and finds Matt sitting on his bed, bleeding from cuticles hes worried down to the
nail, leg jittering up and down.

Matt?

I cant focus. I tried, and it doesnt work. I cantFoggy. The sheer desperation in Matts voice
pulls at Foggys heartstrings. God, he should have been paying attention.

Right. Take your clothes off. He pulls his new, never-used duffle out from underneath his bed.
Hes a poor college student, but Cass, Elton, and Jerand have been helping him source certain
things. Foggy things, not Matt-things, though theres a small part of him that hopes, maybe

By the time he turns around, Matts down to a pair of blue silk boxers, fists clenched by his side,
shifting from foot to foot. The bruises from their last date at Touch are all gone, and there are
fresh nail marks on his forearms.

Tell me how this feels. He puts a bundle of rope in Matts hand. He bought it specifically
because its not abrasive, has almost a silk-like quality to it. Matt hands it back with a short nod.
Alright. So obviously we cant do a lot of impact play. Too many people around to get the wrong
idea. But I think theres something else thatll work, at least temporarily, I just dont want to give
you too much of heads up. Do you
Yes.

Matt.

Yes. Whatever it is, yes. I trust you, Foggy.

Fuck. Thats...fuck. Alright then.

Okay, let me... He places blankets down on the floor, then takes his ropes and carefully lays
them out in a practiced pattern. Lay down on these blankets...right, down a little...perfect. He
slides a pillow under Matts head, ignoring the frown this little comfort brings. Matt thinks he
needs pain and discomfort and harshness; Foggy thinks he needs to learn a better way. Ive got
you, Matty. Matt nods and relaxes a fraction.

Foggy ties a basic, simple body harness thats essentially a series of diamonds on Matts torso, and
small triangles along the sides. It frames Matts pecs, his belly button, andthe aesthetic in Foggy
hates the way Matts boxers interrupt the line of his rope. He continues the pattern down both of
Matts legs, tying them individually. He cuts three lengths of a smaller, cheaper nylon rope and
uses it to connect the leg harnesses to one another at mid-thigh, knee and ankle. (Foggy double
checks his safety shears are close at hand, mentally walks himself through what hell do if Matt
freaks out; hell sacrifice the rope in a heartbeat if he has to.)

He does the same thing for Matts arms, creating a sleeve for each and securing his arms to his
body at elbows and wrists. Hes razor-sharp and focused by the time hes done. All the tension of
finals, the fatigue and worry, feels far away from him. He needs to take care of Matt, and thats
exactly what hes going to do.

Color? Foggy asks.

m green, Matt says, and theres still strain in his voice but its quieter. Hes relaxed into the
ropes, at least.

Good. Thats good. Foggy lights a few of the candles from his bagfor atmosphere, he tells
Matt when he looks skepticaland pulls out a plastic Space Saver filled with various...tools. He
picks his favorite and runs it over Matts chest.

Is that...a feather? Foggy barely stops himself from snickering at Matts incredulity, but doesnt
bother to keep the smirk off his face or out of his voice.

I always do what I say, Matty. You should know this by now. He runs the feather over Matts
skin until its pebbled and hes squirming. Matt bites his lip to keep from laughing. He probably
doesnt realize how it makes him look.

Foggy strokes the feather back up Matts body, flips his grip, and drags the nib over the same path
on the down stroke, harder than he would for most people.

Matt shouts and jackknifes up, muscles straining and mouth open wide; the ropes prevent him
from flailing, but the impulse to do so tightens the rope knots. Foggy forces Matt to the ground
with a firm hand on his chest. Hes genuinely shocked at the contrasting, unexpected sensations.

Okay, youre okay, he murmurs. He rubs over the light scratch on Matts chest, soothing away
the sensation.

Foggy, that...that...

Yeah. Its different, right? Foggy cant help his smile.

Its...intense.

Good intense or bad intense?

I dont...uh, good? Its not rousing enthusiasm, but Matt still seems to be processing the shock
and awe Foggy just threw at him, so he gets a pass.

Okay. Well, how about I keep going. You have your words, right?

Right. Im green.

Foggy does it in reverse this time, using the nib to leave light red scratches on Matts skin,
drawing little doodles and patterns before flipping it over and running the soft barbs over the

Yellow! Foggy jerks away and immediately reaches for the safety shears.

What? Whats wrong, do you need to get free? I can cut the ropes and

No. Foggy. Foggy! Foggy shuts up and takes note: Matts not struggling; doesnt appear really
in distress because of the ties; isnt hyperventilating or shaking. So what... If we continue, I
might, um... Matt nods vaguely downward.

And thats about the time Foggy realize his best friend is more than half hard in his silly silk
boxers, which are currently pulled pretty tight over his, uh, bulge.

Oh. Well thats interesting. Matts certainly had reactions to scenes before, but usually deep into
them when the endorphins are flying, and they arent a priority. So, uh, what do you want to
do?

I dont think I can stop it, Matt admits, ears turning red. I might even, um.

Im fine with it if you are, Foggy says around the lump in his throat. God, he never would have
thought Matt would respond like this. Its...exhilarating. Foggy wants to see how far he can go, to
deliberately try and provoke this reaction, but that might be pushing things. Neither of us will
freak out if you get hard and/or come is not the same as everything Im about to do to you is
designed to shove you over the edge.

Okay. Im...green. You? Thats the first time Matts ever checked in with him, and Foggy feels
like he may have just grown as a person. He wants to do a celebratory dance, but hell have to
make do with torturing Matt until he cant think anymore.

Green as grass, buddy. Not the grass in the courtyard, though, I think the Freshmen killed it dead.
And a couple of the chemistry majors dump their booze experiments there too. But. Anyways.
Lets change things up, then.

Since Matt seems to like silk, as evidenced by his collection of boxers, Foggy takes a scarf out of
his bag o tricks and trails it over Matts body. Its a regular rectangular scarf until about halfway
through, where the material is tied in a series of knots to create some texture. The other end of it
has been shredded to form frayed tassels of varying thickness.

Its incredible how responsive Matt is, how quickly he reacts. He gets attuned to a sensation so
thoroughly that even a small change, like the roughage from the knots, garners a reaction. He lulls
Matt into a false sense of security by pretending the scarf is a tool in and of itself.

Foggys prepared for Matts reaction this time when he rolls a pinwheel down the center of Matts
body, from clavicle to pant line. Matt tries to curl up again, but Foggys already got a hand on his
shoulder, holding him down. (Theyll have to test how sturdy their beds are, see if he can lock
Matt down.)

He follows that up with a horizontal roll from one nipple to the other, pressing down hard enough
to draw small pinpricks of blood. Every muscle in Matts body tenses up, a shout dying partially
formed in his throat. Matt gets fully hard and a wet spot starts spreading aggressively over the blue
fabric. But Foggy is a good bondage bro and ignores it (thats a lie, he packs it away and files it
under the guilty folder in his spankbank).

Foggy has fun with the wheel, especially on the bottom of Matts feet. Pinwheels are so
wonderfully flexible. Foggy can make it tickle one second and draw blood the next. He can make
Matt squirm and laugh by rolling it gently over the arch of his foot, or swear in Spanish when he
rolls it slowly, firmly down Matts big toe, just short of piercing the skin. The flirty touches mix
with the painful ones until Matt doesnt know up from down.

Matt is as worked up as hes ever been during one of their Touch sessions, thrashing on the
ground and straining against his bindings. A bit more vocal too, though hes speaking primarily in
Spanish. Foggys not sure if thats a conscious choice or not. He is pretty sure this scene will end
with Matt making a mess of himself.

When hes left marks over most of Matts body with the wheel, he figures its time for the Grand
Finale.

Their mini fridge is the kind with a small freezer section, just big and cold enough for a small
silicon tray of ice cubes. He pops a couple out and puts one cube in the diamond between Matts
pecs, and the other right in his belly button. Matt hisses at the contact. Foggy makes a note to look
up what hijueputa means.

Foggy lets the ice melt, occasionally nudging the cube around. He leaves the one on Matts
sternum where it is, but moves the belly cube to the hollow of Matts throat. The rope isnt very
absorbent, so water runs down Matts sides; Foggy contents himself with blowing directed streams
of air over them, making Matt shiver, instead of introducing some, uh, other form of temperature
differential. Its a good distraction, though, pulling all of Matts focus. Its tantalizing, watching
him flinch away from the cold. Its not long before the entirety of Matts skin is goose pimpled,
like the cold has spread through his whole body.

Foggy sets a fresh cube at Matts throat to make sure hes good and distracted when Foggy picks
up one of the candles and pours hot wax right in the center Matts ice-chilled chest.

Matt is fucking beautiful when he comes.

Thats really the only coherent thought Foggy has other than, I did that. (I want that has been
simmering in the background since Matt waltzed into his life, so that totally doesnt count.) Matts
boxers look black now, and sweat turns Matts hair into a riot of curls against his forehead. His
cheeks flush a light, sunset pink. Foggy wants to see it again. (And again and again and again, but
he shakes those thoughts away, for that way lies heartache.)

Foggys brain reboots and he starts carefully untying Matt, cutting the nylon connecting ties first,
and then working the knots in the rope free one by one. The rope has pressed beautiful woven
patterns into Matts skin; there are going to be a couple of longer-lasting marks in a few places, but
most of them will face within the hour. Hes unbound both legs, one arm and half Matts torso by
the time the man in question opens his eyes, blinking blearily in Foggys general direction.

You back with the world? Foggy asks, trying to ignore his own reaction.
Mmmm yess, Matt slurs.

How do you feel? Matt grins at him, a little loopy, and Foggy cant help but grin back
helplessly. Wow.

You. Matts brow furrows andFoggy will swear to thisMatt leans in close and sniffs him.
He then promptly loses his balance and nearly face plants into Foggys lap.

Whoa, hey there, you are some kind of high. Foggy realizes hes cradling Matts face, literally
holding it up because Matt seems to have forgotten how, mere inches away from his erection. His
life.

yer not done, Matt says.

Oh, were done. You're just about toast, buddy. Lay down and let me get the rest of this rope off
you. Matt does as Foggy says, frowning. Foggy would say pouting, except theyre grown men
who have outgrown that sort of behavior. Foggy cant help smoothing the furrow in Matts brow
away with his thumb.

He tucks Matt in, covers him in blankets, and hies himself off to the bathroom to take care of his
uncomfortable situation.

They both pass their finals with flying colors.

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt decides to spend all of winter break with Foggy. Which delights Foggys mother to no end,
and confuses Foggy. When he asks why, Matt just smiles enigmatically and shrugs. Like he
knows something Foggy doesnt and thats...not unusual, but for some reason it sets him on edge
this time.

They have this gift-giving tradition where they get each other two presentsone they can open in
front of respectable folk (aka, his mom and the rest of the fam), and one that they emphatically
cannot. As far as everyone else is concerned, Foggy gets Matt a couple of board games designed
for blind people (Braille Uno is going to get vicious, Foggy just knows it), and Matt gets Foggy
the ugliest law-themed tie featuring a repeating pattern of scales of justices, gavels, and law books,
and a pair of cufflinks that say, in a terrible font, Trust Me and Im a Lawyer.

For real, Foggy gets Matt a book of blind porn done by an artist who presses images into high
quality paperonly Foggy got him the hentai version, and the centerfold is two octopi pleasuring
a woman. Matt laughs so hard he cries and Foggys mom pounds on the floor of their room with
the broom to check on them. Matt gets Foggy a pair of adorable stuffed bondage teddy bears. The
dominant is wearing a bra; Foggy assumes its supposed to be a girl bear, but he just smiles
serenely at Matt and tells him hes been bra shopping with his sisters enough times that he knows
his size and can accommodate this particular fantasy easily enough. Matts face.

Foggys pretty sure he wins Christmas.

***

Spring semester is going to be tough, but theyre ready for it. Since theyve gotten through most of
their required classes, and theyre both pre-law, their schedules are almost identical. After the first
week of getting syllabi and books, they settle in pretty well. Foggy doesnt think much of it when
they get out of their Wednesday evening class and Matt suggests dinner. They end up at an actual
sit-down restaurant, not a diner, or a greasy pizza place, or a semi-fast food joint. An honest-to-
God restaurant with tablecloths and salad plates and a pretty decent bottle of wine (being 21 is so
cool). Matt, the sneaky jerk, goes to the bathroom and pays along the way.

Foggy feels good about the worldnot just because of the wineand tells Matt this. He gets a
soft smile, and Matt tucks his hand into the crook of Foggys arm for the walk home.

Home: the tiny little dorm room barely big enough to fit them with a bathroom they share with two
other guys. It should feel small and cramped and claustrophobic, which it sometimes does, but not
as much as it should. Foggy is becoming more and more certain that it isnt the space hes attached
to.

Foggy closes the door behind them and just feels...content. Happy. Full.

Until he catches the furrow of Matts brow, the nervous way he twists the cane in his hand.

Matt? Whats wrong?

Remember that you can safeword out if you need to, okay? Matt says, and Foggy barely has
time to think, What? when Matts dry, chapped lips find his.
Oh. OH.

Oh fuck. Yes.

Foggy is very enthusiastically on board, green as the greenest thing that has ever been green. Hes
just too busy thinking about how green he is to actually respond to the kiss, so Matt pulls way
with a concerned, Catholic look on his face and absolutely not, Matt can take his guilt trip later.

Green, Foggy says, pulling Matt towards him, I am so green Im going to dye myself Day-Glo
so people in space see how green for you I am. Matt laughs and there is more kissing. And
touching. Lots of touching. Touching is good.

Matt is very good at touching. His hands are everywhere, and Foggys pretty sure at some point
he just clings to the bed and hangs on for the ride. Which is fair, since hes done all the touching
so far, even if it has mostly been with implements and not his hands. But Matt is a man on a
mission, and that mission is to make Foggy forget what speech is. He is successful.

Its really hard to fit two mostly grown men in a single bed, but it helps when one of them likes to
pretend to be a blanket.

So, Foggy says, enjoying his new, living duvet. Also, Matt has great sheets. Very comfortable.
A+, will visit again. That was...

A long time coming? Matt suggests, smiling. He kisses the skin over Foggys. Foggy blushes.

Yeah. I guess it was.

***

They move their standing Touch appointment to Thursdays. You know, after theyre done
spending all of their free time in their dorm room. (A 45 minute subway ride is forever when you
could be spending it in bed with Matt Murdock. Also, Foggys already looked up life hacks for
pushing their beds together.)

Foggy is super excited to see how their new understanding translates into a scene. They are very
good at sex. Exceptional. PhD good. Which means tonight should be amazing, and theyre both
eager to find out what happens when Matt isnt holding back. Except Foggy finds himself tackle-
hugged by Cass halfway across the club floor. Shes surprisingly strong.

Oh my blessed Cthulhu! Drinks for everyone! Huzzah!

Cass! Foggy tries to peel her off him, but hes not doing a great job. What the hell

You two finally got your act together!

You cannot possibly know that, Foggy says. Matt just stands there, looking adorably boyish
with his ducked head and a slight blush, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Oh please, you could have it tattooed on your forehead and be more subtle. It took you two for-
ev-er, I was seriously about to lock you in Seven and turn the temperature down until you had to
fuck for warmth.

Room Seven does not have an independent air conditioning unit, Jerand, Foggys beautiful
savior, says.

Whatever. Im really happy for you two, Cass says breezily.

We all are, Jerand agrees, clapping them both on the shoulder. And now were going to let you
get on with your evening. Have fun. Cass pouts but lets Jerand steer her away.

Dont do anything I wouldnt do! she calls over her shoulder.

I have no interest in sounds, Matt says firmly. And theres progress: a firmly stated limit. Will
wonders never cease?

Oh god, no, Foggy agrees.

---

Theres a new sense of anticipation surrounding them this time. Almost like the first time all over
again. Things will be different, Foggys sure, hes just not certain how different.

It starts with Matt getting fully naked. Really naked. Wearing nothing but leather cuffs naked.
Which. Wow. Up till now, hes always kept his boxers on. Thats a line neither of them crossed, a
physical barrier that reminded them both where to stop. But now

Youre gorgeous, Foggy blurts out. Matts in great shapeway better than Foggy will ever be,
because hes allergic to gyms. He runs a hand down Matts back, a ritual theyve developed over
the past few months, but this time he doesnt stop at Matts waist. He can keep going, so he does,
over the firm curve of Matts ass, down one lovely leg, and then back up the other.

He steps around to Matts front, his hand ghosting over Matts ribs, over his chest, and...down.
Matts hard by the time Foggy finishes, which drives home how much Matts been holding back.
After that time in their dorm room, Matt would occasionally get hard during their scenes, but he
never went over the edge again. Never really got close. But theyve also never replicated the
circumstances in their dorm room, sticking to Touchs more pain-oriented play. Foggy anticipates
that changing soon. But hes got work to do here first.

Foggy touches Matts face, letting his fingers explore, and then kisses Matt lightly. Matt strains
forward, trying to get more.

Greedy, Foggy says, tapping Matts lips with the handle of his favorite paddle. You havent
earned that yet. Matt groans but settles back on his heels, waiting. Anticipating. His arms are
spread high and wide, in a T, to maximize prime flogging real estate.

They always start with a long, rectangular paddle thats hard, treated leather on one side and soft
suede on the other. Foggy alternates between the two sides as he wants, warming Matt up and
keeping him guessing. The contrasting sensations work well for him, culminating in a pleasantly
warm sensation for Matt.

For the first time Foggy gets to watch Matts ass turn pink, then a deep, satisfying red. He gets to
set the paddle down and feel the heat of his skin, massage his fingers into the muscle and step in
close as Matt rides the small crest of pain Foggys causing. He peppers kisses over Matts
shoulders while he does this, tastes the flavor of his skin.

When he feels like Matts good and ready, Foggy switches to his trusty stock whip, concentrating
on Matts shoulders. The cold sting of the whip on Matts most sensitive area sends him rocking
onto his toes, gasping Foggys name. Thats new, too. Matt will sometimes ask for more, or give
small grunts, but otherwise he chokes back his vocalizations. But now, its like something in Matt
unlocked and his new favorite word is Foggy.

Look at you, Foggy murmurs, brushing Matts damp hair aside, down to Matts lips, which part
and draw Foggys fingers in. He captures them between his teeth, lightly, before releasing them
back to Foggy.

Foggy, Matt exhales, smiling. Oh, Foggys heart, echoing loudly in his ears. More?

I got you something special, Foggy says.

Foggy bought a heavy leather flogger (courtesy of the Jerand discount), one that can sting or thud
depending on how he angles it and the force, and after the first strike over his back Matt swears.
In English. Hes got a hell of a mouth on him once Foggy gets him going, letting his new toy
dance over Matts back and thighs. Matt thoroughly approves of his gift.

He hasnt done a lot of work along Matts front, the list of things that could go wrong scrolling in
front of his eyes whenever he even thinks about it, but when Foggy takes a breather and steps
around Matt, he cant help it. Matts leaning into his bonds, straining his arms and showing off his
muscle definition. His cock is hard and red, almost purple at the tip, and smudging fluid along his
abs. Foggy twirls the flogger, building some momentum and feeling it in his hand, then flicks it
lightly against Matts dick.

Matt tries to double over from the sensation, but he has no slack in his bonds. One of his legs
involuntarily jerks up to protect himself. He finally sags into the chains, alternatively swearing and
pleading with Foggy.

Whoa! Foggy hauls Matt to his feet. The angle of the chains could dislocate Matts shoulders if
he puts too much weight on them.

Foggy please, dontso close, I need more, please Foggy. Please, dont stop. Green! Green
green, Im

Alright Matty, hush, its fine. Youre green, Ive got you. Always, yeah?

Always, Matt agrees, and leans forward. Foggy rewards him with a kiss that Matts not content
to make anything but dirty and desperate. They get a little lost in it, Matts dick dragging against
the rough fabric of Foggys black jeansthe same ones he wore the first time he walked through
these doors. Foggy wraps his arms around Matt and digs his fingers deep into Matts shoulders,
over bruises Foggy put there. Matt moans and tries to bend himself backwards, pushing his hips
into Foggys hips, and his torso back into the pressure of Foggys hands.

Foggy realizes hes actually really turned on right now, eager to give Matt everything he wants.

Im going to make you come in five, Foggy promises Matt. Matts eyes go wide and he sucks in
a breath.

Foggys first hit is a hard one over Matts left pec, the focus being Matts nipple; the second, a
ghost of a blow to the right side. He lays a stripe of fire straight down the center of Matts chest
that has him huffing like he was gut-punched. The fourth wraps around Matts ribs, stinging his
back, front and side.

Foggy lets anticipation of the fifth build. He draws the flogger across Matts chest, over his
shoulder, drapes it down his back. Watches the tension crawl into his muscles, then get ruthlessly
pushed back, Matt forcing himself to relax. To wait.

Foggy swishes the flogger, smirking when Matt tensesonly to let the thongs gently brush
against Matts shoulder blade. Matt lets a frustrated breath out and rattles his chains.

Temper, Matty, Foggy taunts. Matt literally harrumphs at him, sounding like a grumpy old
man. In retaliation Foggy flicks the flogger so it passes close enough to Matts face that he can feel
the air move. Foggy doesnt miss the way Matt freezes in place, or his breathing speeds up, or his
eyes dilate in anticipation. Something to explore further, but not today. Today, Foggy is going to
make Matt scream for him. And he starts by jacking Matt off, hard and fast at first, then running
his nails over the shaft of Matts penis. It jumps at the touch and he whimpers, turns his face into
his shoulder and bites down.

No! Foggy says, sharp and immediate. He grabs Matt by the hair, yanks his head up and back.
You do not leave marks. Foggy bends down and bites over Matts imprints, leaves his own
instead.

Jesus-fucking-Christ, Foggy! And thats the Matt Murdock trifecta right there: Lords name in
vain, the f-word, and Foggys name all rolled into one delicious sentence. He kisses Matt fiercely,
then pushes him away, making him rock in the cuffs. Hes got a beautifully vicious bruise on the
meat of his shoulder. Foggy honestly hadnt known he had that in him, but damn does he feel a
sense of possessive satisfaction at the sight.

He teases Matt more, with fake swings and gentle caresses from the leather. It ratchets up Matts
tension, but it also lets Foggy get a precise feel for where hes going to place that last hit. Matt
doesnt try to hurry him again, but hes clearly close to reaching his breaking point.

The blow lands solidly on Matts stomach, with the ends just clipping the head of Matts cock.

Matts scream starts off silent before it crawls out of his throat, full-bodied and beautiful. Matt
does, in fact, come, long and hard. Foggy cups Matts balls and feels them jerk and pull as they
empty. He rolls them a bit, drawing out Matts shuddering orgasm until hes clearly oversensitive.

I told you so, Foggy tells Matt, who laughs even as he lists a little sideways, grinning like a
loon.

He frees Matts right arm, which Matt uses to wrap around Foggys neck and pull him into a
heated kiss, his fingers tangling in Foggys long hair. The flogger lands on the ground with a dull
thud; Foggy unerringly finds the bruise on Matts shoulder.

Matt trails kissed down Foggys chest, as low as he can get with his left hand still cuffed and
chained. Given Matts level of flexibility, he gets impressively far.

Foggy, he says, mouthing at Foggys bellybutton. Foggy, please. Foggy hums like hes
contemplating granting Matts wish, then pulls away. Matt makes a distressed, wounded noise.
Poor baby.

Foggy lets out the chain enough for Matt to fall to his knees, his left hand still shackled above him.
He steps back into Matts space, who must be tracking his steps or something because Matt
immediately wraps his free arm around Foggys hips and pulls him close, mouthing over Foggys
erection through his jeans.

Fuck, Matty. Foggy pets Matts head and lets him work. Matt uses one hand to fumble Foggys
flies open, to pull him out and push his jeans down underneath his ass.

Matt rubs his cheek up the length of Foggys cock and that may just be the hottest thing ever.
Foggy couldnt move if he wanted to, Matts arm like a steel band around his hips, but Foggy isnt
interested in going anywhere at the moment. Matt may be half-tied to the ceiling but this is firmly
his show right now.

Apparently, Matt wants to try and deep throat right out the gate, whichA for effort, Matt the
 eternal overachiever gets way farther than Foggy would have thought without a warm up. He
chokes, pulls off, takes a couple breaths, then goes right back down before Foggy can even
manage a thought.

Fuck, youre going to kill me, Foggy says, running his fingers lightly through Matts hair. Matt
hums and oh, that is just not fair. Foggys grip tightens reflexively and Matt hums more, adding a
little more tug as he moves downward. Foggy reaches down and digs his fingers into the bite
mark. Matt moans louder and longer and Foggys hips twitch.

Close, he warns, and that just encourages Matt to suck harder, to pull Foggy closer like hes
afraid Foggy will leave. Matt doessomething, Foggys not sure what be he wants to replicate it
on Matt, and Foggy thrusts before he can control himself. But Matt stops moving, holds there and
it takes Foggy a second to realizeOh!

He starts out tentative, rolling his hips so hes fucking Matts face. Matt leans in and together they
find the perfect depth and rhythm, just short of choking Matt. Foggy pushes that limit a little, till
every fourth stroke goes deeper, cuts of Matts air for a second, and Matts fingers bite into the
flesh of Foggys ass every time. There are tears in his eyes and he clearly loves this.

How the hell is Matt so perfect??

Matt, Foggy pants, and hes so very, very close. He tightens his fingers, holds Matts head in
place and comes, nearly doubled over, keeping his legs steady by sheer willpower and Matts
steady presence. Matts wonderful, talented mouth works him the whole time, until Foggys pretty
sure hes just getting revenge for the way Foggy played with him after his own orgasm.

That may just be the best orgasm hes ever had, but he thinks that about pretty much every orgasm
with Matt, so. He may be biased. But still, that was really, really, really good.

Holy shit, Foggy breathes, thoroughly wrecked. He doesnt even possess the coordination to
free Matts left hand yet. I love you.

Uh

Your mouth! I loveyour mouth, Foggy corrects lamely, damn it, too soon, he wasnt
supposed to

I love you, too, Matt says, naked on his knees, with come on his chest and swollen lips, bruises
all over his body by Foggys hand, chained to the ceiling of New Yorks preeminent BDSM
clubwearing a smile he saves for Foggy, loose and carefree and

Oh.

Oh.

Chapter End Notes

I think they quite earned that "idiots in love" tag.

Thanks for reading! This was fun. :) (I also may have kind of written a small Elektra
tag thing in the comments...)
Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!