Chapter Text
Matt woke up with a headache and a vague idea of what happened the night before.
He runs a hand along his face, feeling the stubble there poking his hands. His fingers felt like lead and smelled like tequila.
He groaned and rolled out of bed with a thump, yelping when he landed on his tail. He could have sworn it was around his other leg…
Foggy groaned from the other bed, “You feeling like hell frozen over, too?”
Matt nodded and immediately regretted it. He feels around for his glasses on the night stand while the world swims in his head. Once he finds them he pops them on his face with a shove.
The room smelled like alcohol and stupid mistakes. It was so strong Matt had to shove his noise into his pillow, which was marginally better.
“Do you remember anything about last night?” Foggy said as he rose from his bed to start a pot of coffee.
Matt sat up and tried to think back. He doesn’t remember much after 6pm. He knew the night started after a particularly hard exam, which they had both passed. Foggy had wanted to celebrate with ‘Just one drink, Matt! There’s no harm in one!’ and he sounded so beautiful happy, Matt couldn’t say no.
Matt always had a strong stomach for alcohol, and one turned to two and three and- Well, there goes the night.
Matt both loved and hated drinking. On one hand it was great, the world softened and sounds and smells didn’t sting his nose, but on the other hand he often lost control of his tail and-
He jolts. Did that happen last night? He can’t remember…
He has this vague impression of his tail flicking against a foot that’s not his. Shit.
He stands carefully and follows Foggy to the coffee maker.
“Not much,” He say, voice groggy, “what do you remember?”
“Nothing- actually I do remember one thing…”
Matt’s heart beats double time, “Oh…?”
Foggy smiles wide, “I distinctly remember you aggressively flirting with that strawberry blonde.”
Matt groans and face plants on to Foggy’s shoulder, “I told you to stop me if I flirt with someone.” (except-)
“And I told you I wouldn’t be coherent enough to care.” Foggy said. “It turned out fine, anyway, no one caught fire.”
Matt shoves foggy’s shoulder playfully, “Foggy that was one time!” he says exasperatedly.
“I’m kidding, Matt, I’m kidding!” Foggy laughs, “Did you get her number?”
“I don’t know,” Matt mumbled, pulling out his phone and handing it to Foggy, “Can you see if there are any new contacts?”
“Sure thing, buddy.” he says as he grabs Matt’s phone.
As Foggy scrolls through, Matt moves to complete their breakfast, pouring the coffee into their respective mugs, a dash of milk and sugar for Foggy. Matt drank his black.
Foggy grabs his cup and shoots Matt a thanks. As he brings it to his lips he hums in surprise and his heartbeat picks up.
“What, is there a contact?” Matt asked, “What’s the name?”
Foggy laughs around his coffee and Matt can hear the splash of some spilling down the side of the mug.
“The contact is ‘Peaches and plums’, what the heck Matt? Do you just go around deducing what type of fruit people are?”
Matt groans into his coffee. He’s been doing a lot of groaning this morning.
“No,” he says with a surly expression, “That’s what her hair smelled like.” Matt says, the memory forming unprompted.
“Oh so you go around smelling people’s hair?” Foggy accused mirthfully, “How is that better? Is this what you have become Matt? The cereal hair sniffer?”
Matt laughs, “You know I could only smell her hair because she was all over me! And the product was stupidly strong. I feel like I still smell like her…”
Foggy’s heart, periviously steady if fast, skips a beat in his chest.
So Foggy likes this girl, huh? Matt feels disappointed like an ass for being all up in her business (or the other way around, really). He’s about to suggest that Foggy set up a date with her when-
“You really thing that her product rubbed off on you?” Foggy asks.
“yeah, I think so,” Matt says, craning his head to sniff at his own shoulders.
Then Foggy leans in as well, nose hovering over the spot between his neck and his shoulder, right above Matts pulse point.
Speaking of, Matts pulse goes WILD.
‘What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck’
His tail, wrapped tightly around his left leg, twitches eratically, the end uncurling and recurling. Foggy has never gotten this close to him before and the sudden shift shocks him. Is Foggy still drunk? Is Matt?
Foggy leans back, and Matt can hear an easy smile stretch his face and smell his breath puff out in a few short breaths.
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Foggy says, “I can’t smell it, but your nose is better than mine.”
Matt would have responded, but his brain was still rebooting, so he just shakes his head to clear it, a hand up to steady his glasses.
“You okay, Matt?” Foggy asks, his voice low and concerned.
“Uh, yeah,” Matt says quickly, “Just a bad headache. I think I’m going to take a shower.”
Foggy pats his shoulder lightly, “Alright, let me know if you want me the fix you up the Nelson Family Hangover Fixer, you know how well it works.”
Matt forces a laugh and escapes to the bathroom. He can hear Foggy’s heart slow back to a normal rate, but he hears him muttering low, so low he almost doesn’t catch it, “…. Worry about him….. drank like…. thought I saw…..”
Horror clouds Matt’s mind as he closes the door and he can feel a rush of pressure to his eyes, now channeling an emotion.
Panic.
What did Foggy see? Did he really get that drunk last night and uncurl his tail? Was he that stupid? (Yes)
Matt shimmy’s out of his pants and uncurls his tail. The relief is imideate, as the stiffness pours out of him. He reaches back to massage the base, pushing into a deep knot that forms every time. He feels around for anything that might point to his theory, any sticky spills he might have dragged the tip through, any dirt from a fall, but it seems clean.
Matt lets out a sigh of relief.
His pulse flattens, but his eyes don’t let up. He’s still panicing inside, even if his heart slows.
“This can’t keep happening…” He mutters.
The amount of times Foggy had almost caught his was mounting in size. Once was fine, expected even, but this was the 12th time. The chance of actually being found out was too much.
But what could he do? Cut off his tail? Gouge out his eyes? Even if they were useless they were still part of him. And its not like he could just tell him-
Wait.
Why not?
What’s stopping him? Sticks gone, his dad never cared, he’s not at a Catholic ophanage anymore….
Mutants are normal now, they don’t have to hide the way they used to. He hears about them all the time, even met a few in person. The person with a beautifully melodic voice had wings that swept the air and tickled Matt’s nose with their feathers, or the woman with cat ears that swiveled like a centenal. People were coming out as a mutant now, having mutant trait reveal parties, even some celebrities were mutants.
It just felt different for Matt. He didn’t have a beautiful trait, it was wicked and scary and ugly ugly ugly against what he stood for. He wanted to hide, to practice law in peace, but after what happened he could never stay in the shadows. He was constantly imortalized in his father’s actions and his own, and after the tail grew in, he knew he would never be normal again.
Although, maybe he didn’t have to hide. He could just tell Foggy, Matt knew Foggy would keep his secret if he asked.
But telling him sounded scary. He would have to sit him down and tell him about the powers and the tail, and he would have to demonstrate his eyes…
God, he wished he could go to Fogwells this early, he needs to hit something….
An idea hits him.
What if…
What if he takes Foggy there? Let Foggy find out after watching Matt spar or work the bag. Would that make it better or worse? Would he leave?
A knock on the bathroom door interrupts him and he jumps, “Hey Matt, you okay in there?” Foggy asks. Matt didn’t even hear him approach the door.
Matt stutters, “Uh, yeah just… making sure I… don’t have any bruises…?”
“…Oh, alright then. Let me know if you need some eyes.” Foggy says. His voice sounds sure but his the way he shifts behind the door says he’s worried.
Matt doesn’t want him to worry, he never wants Foggy to worry, so he calls out a quick reply and turns on the shower.
He strips off the rest of his clothes and hops in. His planning will have to wait.
Besides, he really did need that shower.
No more eels. Ever.