Chapter Text
If asked, Matt was going to vehemently deny that he was avoiding Frank. He was just. . . busy. He had things to do. He wasn’t running away whenever he smelled him on the wind or whenever he heard that familiar rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t counting his blessings that there hadn’t been a situation in the two weeks since they’d last had sex that required both of their attention. He wasn’t-
Oh who was he kidding? He was absolutely avoiding Frank. Like a coward. To be fair, he’s almost certain that Frank has been avoiding him too. He’s been branching out recently, and that little schedule of his only started after he left Matt in bed alone.
He didn’t know why he had expected to feel Frank’s chest against his back when he woke up, but the absence of it had been like a knife through the heart. He remembers waking up that first time, after scrubbing his skin raw to get rid of the blood that had seeped into his soul, and feeling Frank’s arms around him. He hadn’t felt that safe since he was a little kid hiding behind his dad when he felt scared, and the idea of Frank being that safe space for him after all that had passed between them had been frightening. But it had been worse waking up without it. He hadn’t just been sad, he had been hurt .
He had carried that hurt with him every day since, apparently obvious enough that Foggy had wondered aloud what beautiful woman had broken his heart this time, and Matt had sunk his head in his hands at the fact that his Frank induced misery had been obvious enough for people to notice.
Karen had tried to get him to talk about it, attempting to coax it out of him with free bagels and coffee picked up on the way to work. He had told her he was fine. She believed him about as much as Foggy had.
He had known it was a bad idea to keep doing these kinds of things with Frank, to visit his apartment and eat with him and share stories and cuddle his dog. He had known that those moments of tenderness where Frank treated him gently had been dangerous. But he just can’t bring himself to regret any of it. Frank just got it. The need to do something, not being content with just letting people get away with things even when it might get you killed was something that he hadn’t needed to explain because Frank had felt the same way. He didn’t have to just be Matt Murdock or Daredevil with Frank. He could be both. Red , Frank liked to call him, and Matt had thought of it as some sort of middle ground.
And now what? They weren’t speaking, and Matt was having confusing feelings. He thought of never being around Frank again, and to his dismay his stomach dropped. He dropped his head onto his desk with an audible thud.
He’s fucked. He’s so so fucked.
He can’t tell Karen. They have their own history, but he knows that her and Frank had something too, even if it never really manifested into anything. Having sex with Frank is one thing, but telling Karen that he kinda wants the two of them to walk Max together with his hand on the crook of Frank’s elbow like they’re all settled and domestic is a different beast entirely.
He’s not ready to tell her, but honestly, he probably should have told Foggy a long time ago. He wasn’t keeping secrets on purpose it just. . . didn’t feel worth telling.
But whatever, he was sure it would be fine.
***
“FRANK CASTLE?!” Matt winces. “Sorry. Frank Castle?!”
Matt can’t believe he ever thought Foggy would have kept his composure. “Uh. . . Yeah?”
“So let me get this straight; Frank Castle. The Punisher. The man who shot you. The man who kidnapped you and tied you to a chimney. The man who’s kicked your ass so many times I’m surprised there’s no boot print-“
“Hey that’s not-“
“-is the guy you’ve been pining over?”
“I have not been pining.” He hadn’t!
“If your eyes worked they’d have stars in them.”
“Foggy! I’m serious! I need help.”
“Oh that’s good. I’m sure we can get him arrested and sent to-“
“Foggy! I need romantic help!”
There’s a beat of silence that gives Matt enough time to brace for impact. “And you want it from me ?! After dropping that bombshell? Why not ask Karen? She’s got a thing for psychopaths too!”
Matt almost snaps at him then, and he knows for a fact that Foggy can see the tension in his shoulders after that comment. Frank isn’t a psychopath. He’s good and kind and just a little broken, but who isn’t? He loves dogs and makes funny faces at babies in public to get them to giggle, he likes that one specific brand of cheap coffee because it’s the kind his wife used to buy and he drinks it with enough sugar and cream to make Matt gag, and he fixes little old ladies AC units and only takes payment in the form of a home cooked meal to go for Matt and him. But Foggy doesn’t know any of that. So he deflates instead. “I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier. But you’re my best friend, and I really need help.”
Foggy seems to deflate too, running his hand through his hair. “Okay. Okay okay okay. Look, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here, even though I was the one that scraped you off that rooftop after he shot you in the head.” Matt feels a stab of guilt for that. Admittedly, if their roles were reversed and Foggy had just told him he was sleeping with the person who tried to kill him with a garrote wire, he might have some choice words too. Although he’s pretty sure Frank wasn’t actually trying. He doesn’t think that’ll make Foggy feel any better. “But I’m going to try and look at this with fresh eyes.” Foggy sits up, raising his hands in front of him like he was presenting an idea. “So, you and Frank Castle are enemies, you and Frank Castle become uneasy allies, you end up sleeping with Frank Castle, you become friends with benefits with Frank Castle, you and Frank Castle start catching feelings for eachother, you and Frank Castle avoid each other. Okay, have I got that right?”
“It’s simplified but yeah, those are the basics.”
“You know, and I’m sure this is going to be groundbreaking, but have you tried talking to him about it?” Matt stays silent. “Right, of course you haven’t. Yet again, Matt Murdock finds someone attractive with questionable morals and Foggy Nelson suffers.” Matt laughs because honestly? He has a point. “You’re an idiot. Just talk to him.”
“And say what? Why did you spend all that time helping me get over my phobia of dogs?”
“He wha- you know what? Story for another time. How about asking if he considers this dating. Has he had sex with anyone else?”
Matt’s about to open his mouth and tell Foggy he has no idea, but the truth is he’s never actually smelled another person on Frank like that. When you’re intimate with someone, the smell of that person tends to linger. He’s smelled himself plenty of times on Frank, but never someone unfamiliar. “I don’t think so.” He feels relieved and decides to shelf that for later.
“Have you ?” Foggy leans in.
Matt thinks. He’d had offers, but he’d turned them down. He hadn’t been in the mood, or they hadn’t been his type. He hadn’t admitted that they’d definitely been his type once. “No.”
“Okay wow. Have you been on dates?”
“Do you consider drinking beers on his couch and fighting crime dates?”
“For you two? Are you serious?” Foggy’s speaking like he thinks Matt is a little stupid, but after this conversation Matt comes to the conclusion that maybe he is a little stupid. “You two have just been in a relationship this whole time and neither of you figured it out. Oh god, you walking funny recently wasn’t just you getting beat up was it?”
He decides to ignore that comment, since Foggy definitely does not want the details of those encounters. He leans back instead, letting out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding. “Is it really that easy?”
“Considering your day-job and your night-job? How hard can it be?”
It feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do and he doesn’t know why. He’s opened up to Frank a million times and vice versa. They know each other pretty well, but this, the idea of asking Frank if he wants to make them official, if they’ve already been official for a long time, makes him feel like his guts are slithering around inside of him. Because what if Frank says no? What if Frank tells him that all those times he held him and comforted him were just moments of pity? He doesn’t think he can handle that.
His pain must show on his face, because then Foggy is making his way over to him, a hand resting heavy and reassuring on his shoulder. “Look, if you don’t say anything to him then you’re just gonna be sad and miserable even longer. We’re attorneys man, we don’t need to make our clients think all hope is lost as soon as they walk through the door.” Matt actually laughs at that, so he supposes that’s mission accomplished for Foggy. “And the worst case scenario is you and me getting blackout drunk and crossing out his face in newspapers or something.”
“Yeah. . . Yeah you’re right.” It wasn’t definitely going to be more extreme than that if this all went to shit.
“Great! Now get out.”
Matt snaps his head up, a little taken aback. “What?”
“We agree that you’ve gotta talk to him, so go find him!”
“Right. . . right now?”
“Yup!” Foggy sometimes had a cheer about him that honestly astounded Matt sometimes. He couldn’t think about it too long though, since Foggy had handed him his cane and started moving him from his chair to the door. “And tell him if he ever hurts you again I’ll hit him with a car!” Then he was ushered out, the door shut behind him.
His feet are moving before he can really process what’s happening.
***
He knows Frank likes him when he doesn’t pull a gun on him for pushing past him as soon as he opens the door.
“Red-”
“-I miss you.”
Silence. Well, Matt can hear the way Frank’s heartbeat speeds up for a split second, but he doesn’t say anything.
Frank is staring at him, so Matt pushes on. “I miss you, and I have no idea what’s going on between us,” he drops his cane to the ground, running his hands through his hair, “and at first I thought we were maybe just friends with benefits but you have these moments where you're just so soft and I’m not sure what to do with that.” He’s pacing now, back and forth and back and forth. He hears Max come up and stops, reaching down to pet him before resuming his pacing, taking off his jacket and throwing it in the corner. “And then you left .” He hears Frank flinch. “And I’ve got no idea what to do because the thought of not seeing you is torture but I don’t know where we stand-”
“Red-”
“- and Foggy said all I have to do is talk to you and also he threatened to hit you with a car-”
“He what-”
“-and I have no idea what I’ supposed to tell Karen-”
“Matt!”
Matt shuts his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose.
Frank’s entire body slumps like his strings have been cut, calloused hands coming up to rub at his face. He turns away from Matt, making his way towards his worn sofa, Max in tow. He doesn’t sit so much as drop down, head hanging and forearms resting on his thighs. Max looks between the two of them and retreats to his bed in the corner.
“C’mere,” he says, left hand raised as if he’s inviting him over.
Matt goes.
As soon as he’s close enough Frank takes his hand in his own outstretched one, rubbing his thumb over Matt’s knuckles.
“I’m sorry I left.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you do it?”
Frank pulls Matt a little closer then, resting his forehead on Matt’s abdomen.
“I. . . I freaked out.”
He sounds sincere, but even if he didn’t, Matt can sense how nervous Frank is. Nervous . The Punisher is nervous.
He feels the way Frank tenses, like he’s bracing himself before he speaks. “All that soft shit. . . I wanna treat you like that all the time.” He takes a breath. “I wanna hold you, and leave those little kisses on your neck that make you squirm. I wanna hold your hand in public and sleep in the same bed with you at night. I wanna take Max for walks with you and watch shitty movies on the couch with you in my arms. All that stuff. I wanna treat you all sweet and gentle. Don’t ever wanna hurt you again.”
Matt was speechless. He opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. All that stuff; the kisses, the rubbing little circles while they held hands, the holding him to clear out all the bad smells, Frank wants that all the time. It had never occurred to him that these weren’t isolated moments of softness. That this wasn’t Frank’s guilty conscience. Frank’s holding back when they hang out. And he wonders if the entire time they’ve been drinking beers and screwing around if Frank’s hands have been itching to reach out and hold him.
“What’s stopping you?” His own voice is soft, like he’s afraid of breaking this little bubble they’ve created in the wake of Frank’s confession.
“Red, I honestly have no idea if you’d let me. I’ve got no idea what you want. But sometimes I just can’t help it. When you get all sad and have a rough time, I can’t help but reach out.”
He had thought Frank was being nice. Turns out, Frank was losing his grip on the leash that stopped him. It’s funny, he thinks, that Frank has to reign in all his softness. Maybe he had a point, Matt would definitely have been suspicious if Frank had come on so strong. But. . .
“I didn’t want to leave. I thought I’d taken it too far. I thought-” The you wouldn’t want me goes unsaid.
Matt finds himself slightly overwhelmed. His hands find Frank’s hair and he tugs gently, making Frank look up at him. Frank reaches up to take his glances off. Matt doesn’t feel so self-conscious about it anymore.
“Say something, Red.”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Frank’s face breaks into a smile that Matt wishes he could see. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Matt lets himself be pulled into a kiss then, straddling Frank’s thighs. He can’t stop smiling into it.
He chases Frank’s lips when he pulls back.
“Now what’s this about Nelson hitting me with a car?”