Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Devil stood standing silently poised on the edge of a tall building looking over Hell’s Kitchen. His head tilted slightly to one side, just listening.

The hot night air was thick with the sounds and vibrations of the city. Sounds and scents that to the ordinary person would be no less discernible than the warm-up of a symphony orchestra, but for The Devil, for Matt Murdock being totally blind, they painted a perfect picture of the city. Better than a picture, like a 3-D scan of his surroundings.

On any Friday night like this one, he could hear those who were partying and partaking in the local bar scene. A bit crude, but nothing too worrisome yet. It was still early. A group of women were singing karaoke and it was almost enjoyable to listen to. Some punks were carving graffiti into a playground park bench; illegal and sad, but not quite punishable by broken bones and imprisonment. Several small dogs barked from an apartment balcony as someone rifled through the garbage cans in a dark alley. Someone’s first date was going very awkwardly. The officer in the patrol car that rolled down the street below was receiving no instructions over the radio.

The Devil sat on the ledge of the roof and listened to the city for the good part of an hour when the trouble he had been looking for finally arrived. He heard a terrified shriek. A set of keys hit pavement in a sharp jingle, and the sounds of a mortal struggle began.

Matt took off toward the noise to the southeast as quickly as he could move, billy clubs in hand.

“Shhhh now,” a hooded man greasily commanded a shaking, short woman as he clamped an unkempt hand over her mouth. He and a slighter accomplice tightly gripped her arms as they dragged her away from the back side of the late-night diner she was leaving from. “We don’ wanna hurt’cha. A pretty little girlie like you is wasted in a grease trap like this. Luckily we know a guy that’ll make us an offer you can’t refuse.”

The young woman started sobbing, trying desperately to shake the man off to no avail. Despair and fear consumed her.

The second hooded assailant laughed at her.

“Bitch, he said to shut the hell up.” She threatened as she revealed a switchblade with a thwip. The knife shone nastily in the light of the late-night diner’s neon sign. Inches from the poor waitress’ face. “Now come along quietly with the nice man and get in the fucking car and we can all get paid!” daring the poor young waitress to resist any further.

A red boot found purchase square on the hooded woman’s back and she flew forward into the brick wall of the diner and slumped to the ground as a billy club flew at the teeth of the man, cracking him in the face and bouncing off, where it ricocheted off the diner wall and was caught again by the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen himself. Both yelped or grunted in pain upon contact. The blade skittered away just out of their reach.

“S-shit.” The hooded woman spluttered, swaying and wiping her bloody nose and chin as she caught sight of the Devil rounding on the greasy man. It was unlikely that he could right himself and take the small woman as a hostage again. She pushed herself to her feet and grabbed for the knife.

“Get out of here.” The Devil growled a soft, low order to the terrified waitress as he landed a powerful right hook to the ribs of the large man who doubled over, and uncannily dodged a swipe of the switchblade that the woman wielded.

The young woman nodded once, shakily brushing her brunette hair out of her tear-stained face, and ran as fast as she could towards the busy Main Street.

Though she was at her limits, and had many fears plaguing her mind, it dawned on her that she couldn’t sense The Devil at all before he showed up. She shuddered at this mystery and wondered if he was really real.

*****

He let the scrappy woman land a punch to his stomach and make her escape. Having thoroughly incapacitated the man, The Devil now had the mind to see just what they meant by “knowing a guy” who could make them an offer. Though the punch did hurt, it wasn’t a devastating enough blow to really slow him down. But still, he let her get just far enough away to believe that she’d lost him, and started to follow.

Her accomplice must have had their car keys because the sickeningly cotton candy sweet-smelling woman in the hoodie ran. It was a cheap perfume trying to hide the skunk smell of marijuana. When she reached a busier street she walked quickly but casually away, her hood thrown back up over her head to hide her spiky purple hair, and cursing under her breath in a steady stream of vulgarity. She tried to blend in with a crowd of bar-goers up the next street in the opposite direction that the waitress went for a while. Some regulars attempted to greet her, but she turned them away quickly. Seemingly to no one’s surprise. They didn’t ask questions.

After looking over her shoulder for a few minutes she moved again, heading down another dark alley. Possibly towards the harbor; a known gang-operated territory.

She moved down two side streets, taking a complicated route on purpose. She went to climb a locked chain-link fence and nearly reached the top when she heard a gasp and a shout, “Frank, NO!” And turned her head.

A muffled shot echoed down the alley followed by the tinkling of an ejected casing, and the woman fell backwards off of the fence and landed with a thud on the cobblestone ground. Unmoving.

Matt Murdock deftly climbed up a drainpipe of the taller building across the wall. Seething.

The Punisher sighed, “Hey Red. Didn’t see you over there.”

The Daredevil pulled himself up and flipped over the ledge of the roof like a gymnast. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tightly as he restrained himself from attacking Frank Castle: The Punisher. He wanted to ask ‘why’ but he had a feeling that he already knew the simple answer. Somehow Frank knew she was a criminal. Maybe even worse than Matt knew.

“You gonna ask me to dance or not?” Frank stood up to his full height, testing him with a growl. “You sure look like you want to.” He said sarcastically, running an appreciative eye over a fuming Matt in his red Daredevil suit. Much as he hated to admit it to himself, he unfortunately seemed to have some sort of, well, “soft-spot” for The Devil. Which Frank usually ignored with conviction.

Frank’s musky, woodsy, and cool spearmint scent aftershave mingled with the dark roast coffee that Matt had come to know as Frank’s favorite. It distinctly gave away his presence on the opposite rooftop when the breeze changed.

Matt shook his head and sighed in frustration, “No Frank,” he paused to listen intently, and said tentatively as though he wasn’t sure he should be sharing the information: “she’s still alive. Just knocked-out cold.”

“Hm. Not this time.” Frank thought passively. He thought he might get a good rise out of The Devil for this.

“Mm-hmm,” Frank grunted as Matt confirmed what he already knew. “You’re welcome.”

At Matt’s shout, Frank had adjusted his shot so that the bullet would merely clip the woman and push her backwards. The fall from the gate incapacitated her with a probable concussion.

Matt had caught Frank’s scent just in time.

“Who is she? And how did you know to wait for her here?” The Devil asked, increasingly aware of the amusement that was radiating from The Punisher.

“Mila Kuznetsov over there is a real piece of shit,” Frank gestured down to the woman on the ground. “An opiate and meth-peddling, human-trafficking stooge that deals in kids for the Russian syndicate by the docks. Been watching them for a bit. Didn’t know she was coming back this way, but she stinks and I recognized it.” Frank mimed gagging at the memory of her scent.

Matt hummed with a frown, “That fits with what I witnessed tonight.”

It probably wasn’t the only way that The Punisher had recognized the woman but Matt hid his amusement that Frank had noticed what he noticed and came to the very same conclusion.

“So where’s her big, greasy friend?” Frank asked knowingly.

Matt hid his smirk quickly, “recovering from his injuries while cuffed to a hospital bed by now.” He flexed his fingers remembering the sensations of the fight.

“Hmph. Wouldn’t expect anything else.” Frank complained bitterly. It still wasn’t enough punishment for him.

Matt fought back a flare of irritation.

“But it’s your lucky day Red,” Frank started, resting the butt of his rifle on the raised ledge of the roof beside him. “The Russians have everyone running around in pairs and groups for security reasons, and if you were to go snoopin’ around, it’d be easy to get overwhelmed by numbers if they catch on you’re there.”

The Daredevil’s frown deepened, “that’s not a good thing Frank.”

Frank held up a hand that Matt couldn’t see, but could hear with the rustle of his tight shirt sleeve. “It’s lucky for you I found ya, and I might even be willing ta help.”

The Daredevil cracked a doubtful smile, “You know how I feel about your brand of help.”

“Oh come on Red, they have a dozen kids, children, locked up in that yard right now! You know those kidnapping douchebags deserve my brand of ‘help’ more than anyone.” He fumed, stepping into Matthew’s personal space with an accusing glare.

Matt sighed deeply and leaned against a rooftop air conditioning unit with his armored arms crossed. Weighing the benefit of The Punisher’s help versus the heavy cost. “How many Russians are there?”

“By my count, 30. Most of them are armed. They have some kind of drug-making facility they’re running out of the main buildings too.”

The Devil rubbed a red gloved hand at his stubbled jaw in distaste. “Fine.” He said. “We’ll get the kids out, but absolutely no killing!” He pointed at Frank’s chest. Matt meant it.

“Hmph. You want a fuckin’ pinky-promise from me?”

The Devil muttered a prayer for patience under his breath. That was as close to an assurance as he was probably going to get.

After they cuffed the unconscious woman to a drain pipe and messaged one of Matt’s trusted police officers to pick her up, The Punisher gathered up his gear and the two of them left to find a good vantage point overlooking the Russians’ warehouse compound and the dock.

The Daredevil and The Punisher crouched on another shadowy rooftop, The Devil listening carefully to the location below. The Punisher looked at him expectantly.

“…There are 36 guards if you count the ones with M16’s slacking off in the road toll booths.”

Frank scoffed and rolled his eyes, impressed with his temporary partner nonetheless. “I can take care a’ them.” He received a long, stony look from The Devil. “Non-lethally.” He added with annoyance.

Together they came up with a game plan. Matt’s abilities allowed him to understand the rudimentary layout of the interior of the facility and where people would be inside of it. But Matt would need to get closer to locate the victims.

The two of them made their way to ground level and over to a noted weak spot in the compound’s security: an old and unused door on a satellite building along the Eastern fence, sealed with a combination lock. Child's play, really. The Devil crouched by the lock and listened as he turned the dial this way and that. Each click was obvious to his sensitive hearing and sense of touch. He found the 4-digit combination in under 5 minutes.

The Punisher huffed and shook his head as the gate swung open, “You do know you’re a freak show right? Still don’t know how you do what you do.” He muttered The Daredevil’s praise.

Despite his blindness, Matt made a show of rolling his eyes as best that he could. Not that Frank could really see him do it under the horned mask. But if Matt was being honest with himself, it was always fun showing off a bit. Having Frank “in” on the scheme so to speak was kind of, well, also fun. The Daredevil cleared his throat, “Ladies first.” He gestured to the open door, still down on one knee.

“I’ll show you ‘ladies first’… fuckin’ prick…” He stalked past Matt, making a swipe for the back of The Daredevil’s head. Which The Devil dodged.

“Jesus, it’s dark in here,” Frank stated once Matt closed the door until just a vertical sliver of light remained.

“Oh. Erm, yeah. It is.” The Daredevil agreed.

Frank Castle cough-laughed.

Matt’s mouth momentarily twitched into a smile, “Come on, I’ve got you Frank.” He reached out and put a hand on Frank’s solid shoulder to guide him through the pitch-black storage room.

Frank cleared his throat awkwardly, “isn’t there a light switch or somethin’?”

“I don’t think so. This place is so old. I can tell there’s no electrical current running through here, and the factory windows have been sealed.”

“Hmph.” Took the place of “Is that so?”

Matthew could hear it before, but now he could clearly feel Frank’s heartbeat; it had jumped a little when Matt made physical contact, but it remained slightly elevated and steady.

“Frank?”

“Yeah.”

“These kids are going to be alright. We’ll get them out.” Matt assured him quietly.

“…Yeah. I know, Red.” He said a bit too softly, a bit too malevolently. The Punisher lapsed into silence as they walked. But his heartbeat remained the same.

The Daredevil of Hell’s Kitchen knew exactly where he was coming from. Outraged and disgusted by the people who would stoop so low as to harm children. But it was nothing compared to Frank’s hatred of such people born from his personal losses.

The Devil led The Punisher around a sea of stacked crates, some long-abandoned machinery, and a curtain of heavy chains hanging from pulleys up in the rafters. A large, decommissioned ship was held in place with steel beams and was sticking up out of a huge pit in the floor. But Matt led them safely to a wall on the other side of the building with no difficulty. They stopped, and The Daredevil listened for any sign of activity on the other side of the door.

“There are three guards approaching from the right side and two more stationed in the building down to the left and these are just the ones that are close by. Remember: If you can trap the guards in the western booth, I can take care of the southern booth. We’ll shut them down simultaneously. After that, I’ll need you to keep the rest of them busy while I break into the annex of the main building, I’m pretty sure the hostages are there. I’ll bring them to-”

“Yeah, yeah.” The Punisher grumbled. “I’ll meet you in the garage.” He chambered his rifle.

The Devil grit his teeth and scowled.

“Here. You take this.” Frank commanded, thrusting a flare gun into Matt’s hand. “Light it up and I’ll come to you.”

Matthew flushed indignantly. He wasn’t sure if he should deck Frank for underestimating him, or feel touched that The Punisher decided to give a rat’s ass about what happened to him. But The Daredevil would be the one leading the young hostages to the garage to make their escape. That was probably why.

“Fuck you Frank. I don’t need it.”

“Yeah I know you don’t, but you’ll have it.”

Matt could feel Frank staring at him, pure determination was radiating off of him.

“…Fine.” He tucked the flare gun in the strap on his thigh that holstered his billy clubs.

“Good boy.” He pushed past The Devil.

The Daredevil listened to Frank walk with heavy bootfalls out through the warehouse door and into the night. He moved to the West.

*****

The Punisher waited for the trio of casual guards to pass him by and evaluated each of them. Semi-automatic weapons each, and some basic training under their belts. One of them was kicking a rock as they patrolled down the alleyway. Another one had a bad knee but was vigilant. The last one probably wouldn’t pass a sobriety test. Criminals. Amateurs. Scumbag accomplices to kidnapping and a whole other host of human atrocities committed by the Russian mafia.

Every single one of them deserved to die like dogs on the side of the road. But Frank Castle didn’t have time for that tonight. There would be plenty of time to destroy this whole operation. Once he’d found out that they’d brought children in to be sold off to the highest bidder, it took all of the self-control he had not to rush in guns blazing. He knew he had to get them out no matter what, and that meant that he had to be careful.

It was pure luck that The Devil had crossed paths with Frank tonight. Red was, and continued to be, a huge pain in Frank’s ass. Most days Frank would love nothing more than to kick The Devil’s ass to the curb. The Punisher couldn’t imagine a more pointless and self-defeating mission of justice than The Daredevil’s ‘no killing’ creed. He was a damn fool, and far too prickly and uppity about Frank’s methods. But Red also understood. They understood each other more than he’d like to admit. And Frank was begrudgingly thankful to have him. Red was more… precise. And Frank didn’t want to expose innocents to the work of The Punisher if he didn’t have to.

Frank followed the guards along until they approached a spot that was hidden from view from other parts of the compound, and obscured from windows. He raised his rifle. 3 suppressed shots followed, and three people hit the ground clutching their legs and howling in pain. The Punisher emerged from the shadows, kicking them until they were either winded or unconscious. The youngest man who stayed awake cowered.

“You are going to stay right here with your trap shut or I will shut it for you permanently.” The Punisher brandished a black serrated hunting knife in front of his eyes. “Same goes for them,” he pointed the knife at the other two bleeding and unconscious gang members.

The young man nodded fervently through his terror and pain. “Ok… ok!”

The Punisher tutted his irritation, “Quit this crap tomorrow and go home to your mama.” He ordered, gesturing to their surroundings. The blood of the three men slowly pooled around them. “Get a real fucking job!” He spat. He left the young man sobbing in a heap on the ground.

The Punisher moved on his way to the Western toll booth. He stuck to the shadows. His anger and anxiety were spiking to a boiling point. He couldn’t play by Daredevil’s rules. Not if they wanted to make it out of this mess alive. If Frank didn’t kill these idiots, the gang would probably silence any survivors anyway.

Two more guards were patrolling the facility up ahead. Frank got up behind them and pulled the man who was taking the rear into the shadows. The man struggled against The Punisher, throwing wild jabs behind him hoping to make contact and break free from an iron grip. None would be as lucky as the last young man. The man struggled and struggled against The Punisher’s choke-hold to no avail. His jabs became weaker and weaker. His eyes rolled back in his skull as his vision faded away and his body sagged. He was going to die.

“One batch, two batch, penny and dime.” Frank snapped his neck.

The Punisher moved on to the next victim. He lured the other armed man over by making some noise. Once the guard had come close enough, he sprung into explosive action, punching the man. His attacks landed like he was using a hammer. The gangbanger managed to land some return shots on Frank, but it didn’t do him any good. Frank pulled out his hunting knife and plunged it into the man’s chest, ripped it out, and slashed his throat. The man collapsed silently onto his knees and began to bleed out.

Red was probably almost finished with his bit by now. The Punisher moved on to the Western toll booth.

The Punisher threw the door open and three people looked up at him in shock. Frank stood there covered in blood and wearing a face of disgust and loathing. He raised his pistol and unloaded his clip. Blood pooled on the floor of the toll booth. The Punisher went over to their weapons wall and helped himself to their supplies. Including a flashlight. He moved over to the control panel and flipped the switch that controlled the barrier arm. It raised to the ‘up’ position, and Frank destroyed the control panel. It was time to meet up with The Daredevil. He started walking back towards the main building, hardly bothering to hide. He made it a few hundred yards before a voice shouted out behind him.

“Wha- Hey! Stop right there!” A masculine voice ordered. The Punisher only had to turn around. He quick-drew one of his pistols from the holster on his hip and shot the man above his left eye. The body collapsed onto the ground.

“Armed intruder on premises,” a feminine voice said into a radio and shouted. “Drop your weapons-”

Other than her, there was one more gangbanger guard. But not for long.

The Punisher shot her and her associate. The man hit the ground and began bleeding profusely. The woman clutched at her stomach and aimed a shaking gun up at The Punisher.

Frank kicked the pistol out of her hand and shot her point-blank in the head. He continued on.

As The Punisher came near enough to the main building to see it from a distance, the third floor of the main building exploded. Glass shards rained down from above following a concussive boom.

Frank’s heart froze, sinking to the pit of his stomach. His fists trembled slightly and he felt as though he’d been poisoned with rage and fear.

“RED!?”

He took off sprinting towards the blazing building. This had to be Matt Murdock’s doing, intentional or otherwise.

A red flare shot into the sky from where Frank knew the garage entrance was. And he knew he had to choose.

*****

Beyond angry following Frank’s departure from the eastern storage warehouse, Matt headed outside and to the South to take care of the guards at the toll booth there. He almost hoped that someone would notice him so he could take some of his foul and complicated mood out on them. But no one noticed his presence and soon The Devil found himself nearing the Southern toll booth.

Sure enough, there were three huge people loitering inside. They were no ordinary booth guards, they were clearly muscle for the Russian mob. Two of them were talking to each other, and one was reclined in his chair in the main booth reading a newspaper. All had M16 automatic rifles and various weapons hanging on the wall near them. There was a door on each side of the booth so the inhabitants could inspect vehicles that were coming or going. Both roads had barrier arms lowered.

The Devil cursed. He could find some way to block the door handles and they’d likely be none the wiser, but he needed to get those barrier arms up. He’d have to be very quick. Luckily, these men were also listening to a little radio play Metal Super Hits of the 80’s, 90’s and 00’s. Metallica’s "For Whom The Bell Tolls” came on after an introduction by the disk jockey.

The Daredevil cracked open the door. The radio hid the squeak of the hinges. The guard with the newspaper had his back to The Devil who crept up behind him, clubs in hand.

“Boo.” He grinned wickedly. As the gang-member guard turned in surprise, The Devil clubbed him on the side of his thick head, knocking him to the ground. The Devil spun around and threw the mobster’s mug of coffee at the ceiling light, which shattered. The only light in the small room was now coming from the street lights outside the booth. He knew he made an intimidating silhouette.

The two guards immediately went for their guns on the back wall, but The Devil bounded over the small card table they were sitting at and broke the wrist of the man on the right as he grasped for his gun with a snap of his billy club. The man yelled in agony, but that’s where his advantage ended.

The other man hit him hard between the shoulder blades with the butt of his gun and The Daredevil flew forward onto the ground. While falling, he managed to clip his attacker with a scorpion kick, knocking him off balance, and the rifle flew away under a small desk. But The Devil was winded. The man with the broken wrist was kicking him while he was trying to get up from the ground. During one of the kicking attacks he reached for the leg the man was using to stabilize himself and swung with his left billy club. The man fell backwards and landed awkwardly over the wooden arms of a chair, cracking his ribs. It took them all a moment to stand back up, The Daredevil’s arms, ribs, back, and thighs were sore from being kicked over and over. The other man scrambled for the gun on the floor. The Devil sprang up with a wobble and stomped on his fingers with one red boot and kicked his jaw with the other. The man yelled in pain, his hand likely broken now.

The man who fell over the chair was back up, and throwing experienced punches at The Daredevil who kept his guard up. These exchanges only fueled Matt’s anger, but he couldn’t help but enjoy their little boxing match. He took a punch to the mouth as he aimed one at his opponent’s bruised ribs and missed. His lip bled down his chin. With a karate yell, The Devil headbutted his boxing opponent with a crack. The man was knocked out cold. He would thank Melvin, his suit maker, for giving him such a hard helmet.

The Devil heard the remaining man load his M16 but his aim wavered in the dark room. He tried to fire and Matt grabbed his baton club from the floor and threw it as hard as he could at the man, knocking the gun aside yet again as the muzzle flashed. The Devil aimed a kick at the man’s chest and he flew into the desk he’d just emerged from under. The Daredevil snatched up his billy club from the air, twirling, from where it had ricocheted back towards him off of the assault rifle, and then bashed the man over the head as he struggled to stand one more time.

The fight was over. The Daredevil stood victorious over the scene as he panted, sweating copiously. He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his gloved hand, inspected his arm where a bullet had barely nicked him, and grabbed the hair of the last man who was downed, but still conscious and lifted his face up.

“Tell me how to raise the road barriers.” He growled.

The man glared at him with exhausted hatred and some fear and then did as he was asked.

The Daredevil found some restraints in one of the desk drawers and cuffed the men to the chairs around the small table, and linked the chairs together so they couldn’t scoot away.

Without a word, The Devil flipped the switch that controlled the barrier arms to the ‘UP’ position, and then smashed the control panel. The pole arms raised up high and stayed there. He turned to leave, taking a ring of keys he’d found with him.

“You’re so dead, we are going to find you!” Croaked the still conscious gangster.

The Devil found their walkie-talkie radios on a shelf and smashed them under his heel.

“No. You won’t.” The Daredevil punched him out.

With two exit paths cleared, The Daredevil could focus on finding the children and getting them out of this horrible place. He headed towards the annex of the main building quickly and silently.

He had been right. The Devil could hear a lot of people trapped in one small room below the floor. A lot of young people. Some as young as 6-7 years old and some as old as, perhaps, 16-17. He swallowed his urge to vomit. There were still more guards in this small building. At this hour it seemed that two armed guards were deemed enough. They seemed quite relaxed. Both of them were watching… “Family Feud” on the couch and recliner chair in the break room behind the cracked door.

The annex seemed to consist of a reception lobby, a small office space, a break room, a bathroom, and an underground storage room below.

Perhaps it would be best not to disturb the guards. The rest of the building was empty. He snuck past the cracked break room door completely undetected. Passed by the bathrooms, and knelt at the door leading down to the basement. Locked, as expected. The Devil tried the keys in the ring he’d stolen from the toll booth. He was concentrating, maybe halfway through the keys that didn’t work when the break room door swung open and one of the guards came out.

The guard froze, staring at The Daredevil, “What the fu-?”

The Daredevil stood up lightning quick and detached part of one of his clubs. The detached part whipped around on a thin cable and wrapped around the intruder’s neck. The Devil pulled him down with a thud and dragged the wriggling gangster closer and closer. The man struggled at the cable around his neck in vain.

Matt dragged the man into the men’s restroom and landed a few punches on the man’s torso, then he unleashed a punch on the man’s jaw that knocked him out. But The Devil wouldn’t have time to free the gangster. The other guard was coming, having heard the struggle. He was right outside the bathroom door.

“Hey,” the second man said into his walkie-talkie as he crept down the hall. “We’ve got trouble at- Oh my god.” He saw his friend strung up to the barrier of the lone toilet stall.

The devil sprung from the corner of the room from behind the open door and began throwing clean punches. In his shock, the man dropped the walkie. Its batteries popped out and the walkie slid under the stall wall. But he started to fight back. They traded blows, The Devil blocking many of them, until exhaustion caused the man to start to run away. The Daredevil leapt with a flying kick and knocked the man down in the hallway where he didn’t get up. He was also dragged back into the men’s bathroom.

The Daredevil freed the unconscious man hanging from the stall wall and set him on the floor next to the other man. They were still alive.

The Devil checked the mens’ pockets. Zyns, wallets, juul pen, cigarettes, receipts, pocket knife, car keys and another key. Perfect.

Steadying his breathing, The Devil tried the new key in the locked door to the basement. The mechanism clicked agreeably, and Matt pulled the door open.

Murmuring voices from down the stairs silenced themselves as the door creaked open. He could hear the group shaking, or whispering, or trying not to even breathe.

Matthew swallowed and proceeded down the stairs slowly, “It’s ok,” he said as gently as he could. “I’m Daredevil, and I’m going to get you all out of here.”

The Daredevil was slowly revealed to the group of children as he crept cautiously down the stairs with his hands up in an appeasing gesture. Some of the kids sniffled. Some stared. Others seemed ready to throw their shoes at him. They were the only weapons they had.

A young boy that was staring at him started to cry and rushed over to Matt and hugged him around the legs as hard as he could. Refusing to let go. Matt patted his hair with one hand and kept his other in the air as a surrendering gesture. The older children were still, understandably, suspicious of him.

“What about the guys upstairs?” A brave young lady asked. She must have been around fifteen.

“They’re gone now. But we should hurry and get out of here.”

“We heard fighting…” said another girl.

“Yeah. Yeah. That was me and them. I’m sorry if I scared you. Those guys will be out of the way for a while, but we should all really go. Now.”

Several of the kids were now staring up at the open door.

“Come on,” The Daredevil encouraged, picking up the crying boy, hoisting him up onto his hip. “I’ll get you out. Just… follow me, and please try your best to be very quiet.”

Most of the kids started to gather near him at the bottom of the stairs, but not all.

“Ladies, could you please help bring them?” He asked the minority group of teenagers.

The brave girl nodded, and picked up one of the youngest kids, who probably still didn’t understand that they were to leave. The other two girls followed her lead.

“Thank you.”

The Daredevil led the group of 11 up the stairs and into the break room. “We are going to the main garage next door. I want you to stay close. Everyone hold hands please.”

He could hear it, their path was clear. Though he heard gunshots in the distance. The Daredevil opened the annex door and motioned for the group to follow. He was still carrying the small boy in one arm, and he brandished a club in his other hand. The boy continued to cry softly. The Devil couldn’t sense anything physically wrong with him but there was nothing he could do to comfort him now.

They descended the gentle slope down into the dim garage level of the main building from the roadway. The boy seemed to shake harder as they drew nearer to the building.

“…D-daredevil?” The child choked out a whisper.

Matt’s eyebrows raised in surprise and concern under his mask. “What is it buddy?” He murmured back.

“My- my sister. They took her away.” He sobbed. “Can you get her back t-too?”

The Devil’s heart dropped.

He turned to face the oldest girl, “did they take another kid away tonight?!”

“Yeah.” The girl nodded solemnly, still watching over their shoulders.

The Devil cursed under his breath. “Can you give me any details?”

She nodded again. “There’s a third guard. He took Kailey away a little while before you got here. They like to test their drugs on us sometimes.” Her voice almost died. Her eyes burned.”

The Devil’s fury kindled. “Where does he take them?”

“Upstairs. The third floor is a lab.”

There were only a few vehicles down in the garage, luckily one of those was a large truck. The Devil made up his mind.

“Here,” he held out the flare gun to the oldest girl. “This is a flare gun. Do you know how to use a gun?”

The girl was silent. She must have shaken her head ‘no’.

“I do.” Said a boy from the middle of the pack. “My dad and Grandpa take me hunting.” His heart was pounding hard. “And I play lots of video games,” he added as if this was great proof of his knowledge.

“Okay,” The Devil accepted after a beat. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Paxton.” He gulped as The Devil walked over to him.

“Okay Paxton,” Matt said gently with urgency. “This is a flare gun, you’ve probably seen them playing video games. My friend Frank is here too, and he gave this to me so that he could find me and help me get you guys out of here.” He explained, “I need to go and get Kailey, I’ll be really fast, and I’ll come back right here. But, if anyone comes, or if something goes wrong, or I’m not back in ten minutes, I want you to shoot that flare into the sky by the garage exit over there. Can you do that for me?”

“I think so,” Paxton breathed.

“Thank you, Paxton.” Matt handed him the flare gun and squeezed his shoulder.

“I want everyone to climb into that small freight truck over there.” The Devil pointed a few parking spaces away. Luckily the back door was already open. The group clambered towards the truck bed. The Devil stopped the three teenage girls and asked, “Can any of you drive?”

“Y-yeah, I have my permit…” The Second eldest girl offered.

“Good.” The Devil opened the unlocked truck’s driver-side door and felt around the dashboard for keys. He finally found them resting in the cup holder. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Keep this truck running, and if I’m not back in 10 minutes or my friend Frank doesn’t find you, I want you to drive to either the Southern exit or the Western exit.” He pointed accurately in each direction. “We made sure that those are clear. Ah, Frank has black hair, wears black with a skull detail, and has a lot of weapons. But he’s nice.” He assured them half-heartedly.

“Stay out of sight,” The Devil told the kids, “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

The group was silent as they watched The Daredevil sprint for the stairwell leading up into the building from the back of the truck. Paxton and the teenage girls stood on the pavement for a moment, rather shell shocked.

“I call shotgun.” Said Paxton.

*****

A fire started to burn up on the third floor of the building in front of him, illuminating the night, but Frank Castle ran for the entrance of the main garage. “God damn it.” He muttered aloud through gritted teeth to no one in particular. “You’d better be there Red.”

When The Punisher reached the garage he heard the motor of a truck rumbling, but no one appeared to be inside the cab. He walked over to investigate with a pistol raised. Ready. He peered into the bed and cab of the truck and scoffed in confusion and mild relief. Two sets of frightened eyes looked back up at him from the cab. He lowered his gun.

“It’s ok!” He said loud enough to permeate the glass windows. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m here to get you out of here.” He gestured to himself, and The Punisher checked their surroundings for hostiles one more time for good measure.

“What’s your name?” Shouted the young boy hiding down by the floorboard of the passenger side.

“Uh, Frank.” He answered, confused at the boy’s response. “Did you shoot my flare gun?”

“Yeah!” The boy unlocked the passenger door and opened it. “Daredevil gave it to me.” He grinned. “He said you’d come.”

“Did he?” Frank mused, concerned. “So where is he?”

“Upstairs,” The boy frowned. He pointed at the stairwell in the corner. “The third floor. They took Kailey. Everyone else is here though.”

Frank’s heart ached and his jaw twitched with fury.

“Okay, kid. You know how to shoot? You’re gonna need an upgrade.” He handed over one of his Glocks to the boy. “Just make sure you know who you’re pointing that thing at before you pull that trigger. Use both hands.”

The boy’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as he took the gun from Frank. “Ok.”

“I’m going to get them. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he told the girl in the driver’s seat. “I want that gun back.”

He turned away from the truck and ran for the stairwell, another gun at the ready. He cursed The Devil, and climbed the stairs. “Screw you Matt. You’d better be alive so I can kill you.”

The Punisher raced maddeningly up each level until he reached the third floor. The stairwell door was ajar on its hinges, and collapsed just in front of it was The Daredevil. He’d used his body to shield the unconscious girl, stuck halfway beneath him, from the blast. The Punisher heard some coughs from the floor in front of them. He stepped over the unconscious bodies of Matt and the girl, and whipped out his assault rifle. He stepped forward and screamed, unleashing bullets into the fiery room, silencing the surviving facility staff. The meth and mystery drug lab smelled like shit. He turned back to the stairwell, breathing heavily. People were coming up from the first and second floors.

The Punisher shot down the first wave of armed gang member responders. Their blood coated the walls and stairs and the shots were deafening in the stairwell. Matt stirred and bolted upright in a panic.

His ears were ringing loudly. He couldn’t ‘see’ properly. Wherever he was it smelled like smoke, gunpowder, and blood. He just knew that the girl was on the floor, and a man was near them. The Devil used nearly all of his remaining strength to stand up and he screamed, charging at the man.

The Punisher wasn’t expecting The Devil to pop up screaming, hellbent on harming him, but he managed to dodge The Daredevil’s feeble assault. He used a judo move to flip The Devil in the air and slammed him back onto the ground, holding him in place. “Red?! Red. It’s me. It’s Frank.”

Matt practically snarled, enraged and scared, he fought against Frank’s iron grip. “Come on, calm down.” He grabbed Matt’s hand and thrust it to his own skull-crested chest. “It’s me... It’s me… I’m not gonna hurt ya. It’s me!”

The Punisher spent a moment with his eyes closed, grappling with Matt, willing him to calm down and recognize him somehow.

After a moment, Matthew’s labored breathing slowed and he stopped struggling. “…Frank?”

“There he is.” Frank groaned sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Relief flooded his chest. He patted Matt’s shoulder twice and released him from the judo hold.

“Frank. My ears… I can’t…”

“Oh.” Frank thought.

“Shit.”

“How’s the girl?” Matt asked, with worry in his voice. He was struggling with overstimulation on top of getting his bell rung.

Frank checked her vitals and then moved Matt’s hand over to her neck so he could check them himself.

“Oh. Thank God.” Matt breathed.

Frank squeezed Matt’s arm gently and slowly got him to his feet, draping him so that he was leaning over his back. Matt’s masked head drooped over Frank’s left shoulder and he groaned; overstimulation and smoke inhalation screwing him over. His chest hurt and he was ready to crawl out of his skin. His right arm was slung over Frank’s right shoulder. Frank stooped into a squat again, supporting The Devil’s weight, and scooped up the unconscious young girl in his arms.

“Alright,” grunted The Punisher. “We’re getting outta here.”

Frank Castle huffed and puffed as he carried two people down three flights of stairs, navigating through inert bodies and a slippery staircase. The door to the garage was mercifully still propped open, and he shuffled through it with his dependents. The truck was in sight, and they were running out of time.

“Paxton! Driver girl! Get in the back, now!” The Punisher barked from midway across the garage.

The doors of the truck opened and the children hopped out. They saw the approaching trio and their mouths hung open.

“Holy… Are you guys-?!” The girl asked shrilly.

“We’ll live,” said Frank. “Take the girl please.”

She did. And the other kids helped pull the now semi-conscious girl into the truck bed. Frank leaned Matthew up against the back of the truck too.

The younger brother of the girl was beside himself to see his big sister again. But Paxton asked, “Daredevil, are you ok?”

“He’s fine. He’s gonna ride with you until you’re safe.” The Punisher cut in. The Devil wouldn’t be much use in the driver’s seat, or the passenger seat, but he might be of some comfort to the kids. And he really ought to lie down and take a breather.

The Devil shot Frank a dirty look for his thinly veiled belief that he was useless now, but crawled up into the truck bed anyway because it was nearly true.

With everyone finally settled into the truck, The Punisher threw it in gear and sped out of the garage. The main building was definitely on fire now. Emergency vehicles had parked nearby and were spraying flame-retardant foam up into the windows. People were staring up at the building, but Frank could see armed guards searching around the buildings and talking in small groups with some shady-looking officials.

The Punisher slowed the truck to a casual speed, navigating through the mess. What he wouldn’t give to hit the scumbags with the truck, but no, he had to keep moving. For the children’s sake. For Matt’s sake.

The Western exit was swarmed with activity, people were investigating the carnage inside and a bomb squad from the city was coming through. Frank continued on over to the Southern exit. He could see it was the de facto escape route now. A few cars full of regular workers and criminals were making their way out. Thankfully, they didn’t have to slow down much. The Punisher blew past the too-quiet toll booth, forgotten in the wake of larger problems. Despite the size of the truck, they disappeared into the night and the camouflage of the city.

The Punisher drove around town until he was sure they hadn’t been followed and neared a police station. He stopped the truck in a public parking garage he knew to have some surveillance blind-spots. He pulled into a space in the shadows and cut the motor. The only sound in the garage came from the crinkling of the hot engine and the lights of the truck went out. Frank Castle sighed in deep relief and slipped out of the cab, walked around the side of the vehicle, and slid open the door of the enclosed bed.

“Heh.”

The sight revealed to him brought an acute bittersweet anguish to his chest. The Daredevil had half a dozen exhausted children curled up next to him as he sat with his back to the back wall of the truck. Some of them were even sleeping. It was kind of cute. It reminded Frank of his own lost family. And when that explosion happened, he was terrified that he’d lost Red too. It was disgustingly perplexing and yet sickeningly clear. He knew he’d come to care for The Daredevil, for Matthew Murdock.

Matt was in pain, but he’d had worse. He’d sat against the back wall of the truck with his legs splayed out as he thought about the events of the evening, and reassured the children that everything was going to be alright when they asked. He’d had to deflect a lot of questions about being The Daredevil. And many questions about Frank. As it became clear that Frank was calmly making sure that there was no chance they were being followed, much of the adrenalin the children were experiencing wore out, and the younger ones especially became sleepy. It was around 2:30am after all. They felt safest close to him, which touched his heart, but the teenaged girls understandably slumped into their own corner of the space and found solace there. It was lucky that he ran into The Punisher tonight.

“Hey Frank.” The Devil greeted him when the door slid open. His hearing was returning more and more. He still had a migraine.

The Punisher gulped, blinking back mist from his eyes. “Hey Red.”

“We good?” He could hear the beating of Frank’s heart again, something was up and he could smell salt, but now wasn’t the time. He couldn’t keep his own heart from jumping in response.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”

Paxton spoke up hopefully. “So are we getting out now?”

“Not quite. We’re going to call the police and they’re going to come and pick you up. Take you home.” Frank did his best to smile.

“Oh. Ok!” Said Paxton, half disappointed to be parting with the vigilantes but elated to be going home.

“You still got my gun?” Asked Frank.

“Oh! Yeah. Here you go!” He handed over the Glock. Mindful of the rules of gun safety.

“Thanks, kid.”

The Devil did a double take between the boy and The Punisher, not quite believing what he’d heard. But it wasn’t unexpected. He threw a tight-lipped dirty look at Frank Castle. Who completely ignored him as he holstered the weapon.

“We’ll be watching from a distance until the police arrive.” Frank continued, speaking to all of the children. “So sit tight, the station is just around the corner.” He hopped up into the truck bed and stooped to help The Devil up and onto terra firma. The Devil still swayed on his feet, he leaned on Frank’s shoulders. His chest still burned and he felt light-headed and sore all over.

Some kids murmured their acknowledgement, others came over to hug them goodbye, still nervous to be left alone. The teenage girls thanked them seriously and shook their hands. Frank made the phone call with one of his burner cell phones.

Paxton walked back towards them, looking between each of their faces. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

“You did so good Paxton, thank you for your help tonight. You’re a very brave young man.” Daredevil smiled at him. “You saved me, and helped all of these kids.”

The boy looked like he wanted to cry, but he held it in, “you saved us first, and Frank saved us last.”

“Then, I guess we all did a good job,” The Devil chuckled hoarsely, ruffling the kid’s hair with his free hand.

Paxton hugged both The Daredevil and Frank at the same time in his short arms. A hug which both of them returned with their free arms while still standing up.

Frank was breathing fast. Matt was right about the kid. “You did good, kid. Thank you.”

The kid nodded, forehead pressed against Frank’s ribcage, “Thank you, Frank. And Daredevil.” He said thickly.

“You be good, alright?” The Devil said kindly, “We’ll be around.”

“…Stay out of trouble.” Frank added, patting the boy’s shoulder.

The Devil moved his head as if he heard something faint, “We’ve got to go now. Cops are coming.” He said under his breath.

The boy let go and wiped at his nose in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. He rejoined the rest of the children and they all watched as The Punisher and The Devil disappeared into the shadows.

*****

Frank Castle caught himself brushing at Matt’s side in what would be interpreted to be a soothing way, supporting his weight as they walked. He listened carefully to the slightly wheezy way that he breathed and stared at his handsomely sharp profile in the dim light. He looked at the way Matt bit his lip when he winced from pain. The Devil needed support, and the odd thing was, he was letting Frank be that support.

“You’re staring,” Matt announced.

“Yeah, well, I ain’t gonna lie. You're lookin’ pretty busted Red. Usually if I get this close to ya it’s because you’re about to try an’ bite my head off.”

The Devil barked a sardonic laugh. “Well I guess that’ll happen when a drug lab blows up around you. Or when The Punisher shoots up more than half a dozen people.”

Frank still smelled like blood.

“Scumbag kidnapping criminals.” The Punisher corrected him.

“And just where are you taking me Frank?”

Frank snorted in annoyance, “somewhere safe. You need patching up.”

The Daredevil grumbled, “One of your doomsday bunkers then.” But Frank ignored him.

It wasn’t a doomsday bunker.

“You have a condo now?” Matt exclaimed when they reached a normal high-density dwelling. Feeling pleased that he may not be in for a night on a military issue cot after all. “Frank, that's so nice for you.”

“Pete Castiglione has a condo.” Frank explained as he fumbled with a key in the door.

Matt sighed. Frank had gotten a clean slate with the law, and yet here they were together. He said nothing. He understood.

The space was modest. The kitchen and living room were on either side of the front door, and the bathroom and master bedroom were down the hall. There was a covered balcony, and they were 3 floors up from the street. It smelled like Frank, but the condo was cold. He probably hadn’t been around in a little while. Matt heard Frank flip a light on, and he was led deeper into the condo.

The Devil blushed, “Frank you don’t need to put me up in your room, I’ll be fine on your couch.”

“Don’t be stupid Red, ‘s not long enough to sleep on.”

While someone who belonged in Frank’s very limited and chosen circle was suffering, it would eat away at him. Matt needed to be safe and whole.

The least Frank could do to calm down was to make sure that the injured Matt Murdock would be comfortable. “‘S the least I could do for him,” he thought to himself. Trying to shake his anxious thoughts, and justify his enthusiasm. “Red” was a good nickname for Matt as well as for The Daredevil. His blush was too strong to go unnoticed by Frank. “Choir boy,” he thought with a smirk.

"All the more reason-”

“Given your situation, you ain’t got a choice! I know your sensitive-ass doesn’t wanna sleep on my cot either.” Frank grumbled, willing his heart rate to slow down again, “I’ve got one in the closet. I’ll be fine for the night.”

Frank had a point. Matt did not care for the firm and narrow camp cots that The Punisher seemed so fond of when he camped out in various makeshift armories across town. He found that out early on out on one of their earlier collaborations when he’d tried to sit on one. There were no chairs in the bunker at the time.

Frank steered Matt into the master bedroom and sat him down on the queen-sized bed. All at once Matt felt his exhaustion hit. He hunched forward while sitting and rested his head in his hands, massaging at his temples under his helmet. The bed was soft and inviting. Matt opened and closed his mouth, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say next, but when he looked up Frank was gone.

Matt sighed. He still felt as though he should leave, and not be in Frank’s personal space. It really did smell like him, like peppermint and pine. Especially here in Frank’s bedroom. Frank was surely just as tired. And Matt could recuperate at his own place if he just got a cab. He’d heard Frank’s heartbeat tonight, he wasn’t sure he'd like to admit to himself that his own sounded much the same lately. Frank Castle was always… intense, but he’d also been loyal, and honest, and there for Matt and his dearest friends when it counted the most. He never pitied Matt, and he always understood why Matt needed to do what he did as Daredevil, and held him to his own standards whenever he was slipping from his path. For all of this, he’d be eternally grateful.

As Matt sat there on Frank’s mattress, he heard a kettle start to whistle from over in the kitchen, and the clanking of two mugs being placed down on the counter. A minute later, Frank came in with a steaming mug of tea for him. He halted in the doorway.

“Are you going to take the damn helmet off at least?” Frank asked, exasperated.

“Sleepytime vanilla?” Matt questioned incredulously.

Frank grunted, “I don’t like chamomile.”

He walked over towards where Matt was sitting on the bed and put the sleepytime vanilla tea on the nightstand.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Right.” Frank sighed. “Come on Red. You can let go now, I got you.” He whispered.

Frank stepped closer between Matt’s knees and slowly made to lift The Daredevil helmet off of Matt’s stubbled and bruised face. His fingers brushed at Matt’s auburn hair and at his cheekbones. The gentle touch and the freedom from the mask felt nice. They were close enough that their breaths mingled. Frank put the helmet to the side.

Frank’s mouth twitched, his heart was pounding, “…Feel better?”

He wasn’t sure what kind of face he was making now, but Matt closed his sightless eyes and chuckled thickly. “Yeah, loads better.” He said quietly. His shoulders relaxed, and he asked tentatively, earnestly: “Could you help me with the rest?”

Frank took a deep breath and tilted his head up at the ceiling before he scoured Matt’s face for any semblance of deeper meaning. He saw a light blush tinge Matt’s cheeks and ears trying to hide behind a trace of a smile.

“Please?”

“Alright.” Frank said slowly. He stooped down and started fiddling with the straps of Matt’s boots and shin guards. He could feel Matt observing him, in his way. Matt began removing his own gloves and arm padding.

When Matt’s feet were free, Frank stood up while Matt twisted around so that Frank could help him with more difficult to reach zippers and straps.

“Thank you.” said Matt, turning back to face forward. “I mean it.” He couldn’t help himself, he was leaning forward hopefully.

Frank was still standing stock-still in Matt’s personal space. “No problem.” He swallowed. “You should… you should get some shut-eye.”

Matthew leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips, closing his eyes again.

Their hearts hammered fiercely in their chests. Frank kissed back tentatively, but broke them apart after a moment.

“You sure this is what you want Red?”

Frank was practically shaking with restraint. His hands clung to Matt’s biceps, his eyes searching Matt’s face.

“Matt; are you sure?” He asked again, shaking his arms a bit.

“Well… I do feel like I’m going a bit insane.” Matt admitted with a hollow attempt to tease, “But I am… sure. This feels right.” Matt let out a soft, bittersweet laugh. “If you don’t want-”

Frank cut him off right there with a heartfelt kiss. Matt thought of a prayer for self-grounding as he threw his arms around Frank’s neck. This explosive spark that had existed between them was now catalyzing into something new and far too exciting. His prayer would go unanswered.

They kissed again, more fiercely, with increasing need. Matt’s hands roved around Frank’s broad back and shoulders. He kissed up and down Frank’s neck, ear, and collar bone, eliciting a growl of want from Frank. He switched to his lips often, grabbing at his tight shirt as he took in the sensations that were all Frank. His gravelly voice, his beard, his scent, his soft lips, his firm body.

Frank ran a hand through Matt’s auburn hair and used his other hand to hold Matt tightly by the hip. He ran his thumb up and down the V of Matt’s abs. He bit gently at Matt’s swollen lip before kissing him deeply. His hands slipped downward to grab a handful of Matt’s ass, pulling him even closer. They lay down on the bed together, Matt in his undershirt and boxer briefs, Frank still in his punisher garb, minus the coat and bulletproof vest, and they started grinding. Matt was riding with one leg over Frank’s hips and Frank was manhandling his hips and ass to create a pleasing rhythm between them. It wasn’t long before Matt was out of breath. In fact, he started hyperventilating.

Matt coughed hoarsely, and swore. He cursed his shortness of breath, and he knew it was because of the fire at the Russian compound.

Not good.

Frank snapped to attention out of their pleasant haze and guided Matt’s raised leg down to the mattress. He searched for signs of further injury or trouble.

“Whoa, Red? Easy does it. Can you sit up and take some slow, deep breaths for me?”

Matt nodded and took some deep, wheezy breaths. He anchored himself to Frank, keeping one hand on his chest in apology, “shit.”

Frank looked on in worry, one hand clasped on Matt’s hand. “I need you to stay here and lie down, ok?” It wasn’t a question. “I’ve gotta make a phone call. I may need to step out for a bit.”

Matt shook his head. And gasped, “no… hospital.”

Frank scowled, “Curt ain’t a hospital.”

He marched out of the bedroom and Matt could hear his phone was now ringing softly out in the hall. It took a while for ‘Curt’ to pick up. It was almost 4 in the morning.

Matt heard Frank make a short debrief of the situation and then listen for what sounded like medical advice. He heard Frank pick up a set of keys and his wallet, and he heard the scoot of a chair, and Frank lacing up his boots.

He returned to the bedroom with a tissue box, a small waste basket, and a large glass of water.

“Drink slowly,” he instructed, “and recline a bit. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, feel free to go to sleep. I’ll be back with some oxygen.”

“Frank, I’ll be fine.” Matt said, caught between disappointment for the way the evening had gone, his own embarrassment for the situation, and bemusement at Frank’s ‘get ‘er done’ attitude.

“Right. You just sit there and do that meditation crap you told me about, and I’ll be back in thirty.” Frank walked over to the dresser and pulled out a fresh t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Pajamas.” He mumbled, placing them on top of the dresser.

“Frank.”

“What?”

Matt stretched out his hands in a summoning sort of way, and Frank obliged by stepping over to him on the bed and grabbing Matt’s hands. Matt gulped, “Thank you. I… uh… I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” He pressed a kiss to Frank’s knuckles and was pleased by the pleasant steadying he heard in Frank’s heartbeat.

“Yeah. Ok. ” Frank promised. “See you!” He stooped lower, held Matt’s head in his hands, and kissed him gently on the forehead. He thrust the warm mug of sleepytime tea into Matt’s hands before he marched off again, this time down the hall and through the front door.

“See you.” Matt waved. The front door closed.

After a moment of silence Matt barked out a laugh, followed by a round of coughing. There was no way all of that actually just happened.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groaned to himself. He was still cooling down from that passionate moment.

He spat into one of the Kleenex’s and tossed the crumpled sheet into the lined waste basket. Phlegm. His body was trying to clear out the smoke.

He slumped into a reclining position on top of the bed and took a sip of the vanilla tea. It was pretty good. In the quiet room, his fatigue was quickly taking over. Matt decided that pajamas would actually be much more comfortable and slowly got up to change.

Matt pulled on the sweatpants and tightened the drawstring. Frank’s old t-shirt was only a bit too large for him despite both of them being in prime shape, but Frank was a bit taller and a bit more muscular than Matt, which didn’t make him jealous. At all. Not one bit. Matt’s mind also wandered back to a few minutes prior; To how they had felt pressed up against one another, entangled. Heat rose to his cheeks again. Matt historically had got around, he’d had plenty of female partners, but he’d never been handled like that. He’d never… He rubbed furiously at his face with his head in his hands.

But Frank was The Punisher.

Matt couldn’t abide by killing. Ever. But he’d always felt drawn to Frank Castle. Even if he didn’t always understand why. Tonight was just additional evidence of Frank's ferocity and of his kindness. He supposed that he’d already accepted The Punisher somewhere along the way. A scary thought.

Matt shook his head and sighed deeply. This was going to be so very complicated. It had been so very long since he had allowed anyone to become truly close to him. He’d lost so many people, and Frank had been by his side for all of it. He’d always been able to keep up with The Daredevil, and Matt Murdock.

The shirt smelled like Frank too. He put the warm mug of tea down on the bedside table and lay there listening to the quiet morning. Breathing slowly, Matt drifted into a light doze.

Chapter Text

Snug in a bed that wasn’t his own, Matt Murdock awoke to the sound of keys turning in the front door of Frank Castle’s secret condo.

Frank himself pushed the door open. He was frayed from lack of sleep and worry, but he’d been successful. He tried to be quiet as he removed his boots and brought in an oxygen tank and mask. His bag concealed a box that contained a pulse oximetry device and his jacket pocket held a container of pills. Of course Matt heard it all, but it was sweet that Frank was trying to be so considerate.

He brought the goods over to the master bedroom where Matt rested and knocked gently. He cracked the door open.

“Hey Red. You up?”

“Mm-hmm.” He sat up, yawned, and then coughed. The tickle in his chest was unreal.

“Still out of it, huh.” He pushed the door open. “Good thing I went and got these.”

He brought the supplies over and sat down next to Matt. “Take one of these. They should help to relax your airways.” He handed Matt the bottle from his pocket.

“Thanks.”

“Just gotta test your blood oxygen levels and then set up this oxygen tank with the mask. Then you should be good to go back to bed.” Frank knew better than to tell Matt outright that he needed to rest for several days in this way.

Matt nodded, grateful for this last bit of news. It didn’t take long to follow through on these procedures, but it wouldn’t be long until the sun would rise now. Neither of them cared. Sleep was a siren song that beckoned them.

After making the final adjustment to Matt’s oxygen intake levels, they settled into Frank’s Queen-sized bed, and Frank turned off the lamp. He tentatively reached out for Matt in the darkness and Matt, heart pounding, had obliged and scooted closer to Frank.

Matt breathed slowly in Frank’s arms and Frank pressed a kiss into Matt’s hairline before they both slipped into a deep sleep. Safe at last.

They slept in until 10:45am despite the best efforts of the rowdy city, but all of its noises were essentially a white noise background to its residents. One particularly angry driver hounded on his horn about ten times in a row, below their window and that finally caused Matt and Frank to stir.

Matt found that his head was still resting on Frank’s shoulder, whose arm was still under his neck. They’d managed to push down most of the blankets during the night between the two of them, and so Matt reached over and pulled them back up to their necks before turning over and burying his face into the crook of Frank’s neck with a satisfied sigh.

Frank stretched his free arms with a groan and then as Matt curled against him, wrapped his arms around him once more. “Hm. Mornin’ Red.”

Red was so solidly soft to grab, doing so immediately got Frank’s blood pumping a bit.

“How are you feeling?”

Matt groaned just for the sake of making a noise. He buried his face deeper into the space between Frank’s neck and the pillow. He didn’t want to get up. Matt just started stroking at Frank’s muscular chest. “M’ good.” He said, muffled by the pillow.

“Hmph, you always this sweet in the mornin’, darling?” Frank smirked in amusement. He pressed a kiss to Matt’s exposed ear. He flushed red again.

Matt poked at the far side of Frank’s ribs in an attempt to tickle him into shutting up. Frank flinched, but it didn’t work. He playfully jabbed Matt back under his exposed armpit. The sleepy man jerked wildly and let out involuntary laughter. He was awake now.

“Ah-hah! Fuck you!! Frank!” He struggled.

“Ah so you can dish it, but you can’t take it eh Matt?” He forced more laughter out of him. Unfortunately, coughs followed that laughter. Frank stopped messing with Matt and let go immediately. “‘S real cute!”

Matt sat up, swung his pillow gently at Frank’s chest, and coughed into a tissue. He cleared his throat.

“Waste basket?”

“Mm. Thanks.”

Frank picked the basket up off of the floor and held it up for Matt to throw the crinkled sheet away.

“Grey matter huh.” Frank saw that what Matt coughed up was a light grey. Luckily that meant it wasn’t extremely serious. “Looks like you’ll have to put your feet up for a few days.”

The Devil grumbled, “is that right?”

“Yeah. According to Curt. Smoke inhalation can be pretty serious, Red. He’d actually really rather have you go get some blood tests and a chest x-ray.”

Matt shot him a look. Not happening. Maybe if he coughed up blood.

“Yeah that’s what I knew you’d say.” Frank tutted.

Matt relaxed and huffed a breath through his nose. He leaned over to where Frank was sitting upright and gave him a cheeky kiss.

Frank ran a hand over his own bearded jaw in mild embarrassment when Matt pulled away, but then grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down to the mattress again. “You cheeky bastard.” Frank initiated a deeper kiss. “Don’t you go cryin’ to me when you’re out of air and seeing stars.”

Matt moaned into that kiss, “Don’t tempt me so much!” and started to reach for any part of Frank he could get his hands on. Of course, Frank was already doing the same.

“God, Red. You’re so sexy.” Frank murmured softly into his ear, “Even better than I’d pictured.” He gave Matt’s butt a squeeze.

“You’ve been picturing me like this?” Matt smirked with self-satisfaction. “What else have you been picturing me doing?”

“Mmm.” Frank groaned as Matt palmed his erection under his briefs and started using his thumb to play with its slick head.

“Oh no sweetheart, ’s what I’ve been picturing doin’ to you that counts.” He growled.

Frank kissed Matt’s neck, determined to leave a mark there as he continued to feel him up. Squeezing and stroking his ass and his thighs. Frank brought their hips together again to create sweet friction.

Matt groaned and enjoyed the sensations as he let Frank work. He used his own hands to make encouraging sweeps into Frank’s hair, across his nape, and down his back.

After Frank had his fun at Matt’s nape, he removed Matt’s borrowed, baggy T-shirt and moved lower. He pushed Matt onto his back where he was propped up a little by a pillow. Frank bent over him on all fours as he grabbed and sucked at Matt’s nipples, and left a trail of kisses all the way to the elastic of his boxer-briefs. Matt eagerly lifted his own hips so that Frank could get them off.

“Mmm. That’s nice.” Frank praised. Matt’s underwear hit the floor somewhere behind them. Frank went down and Matt moaned his name.

Warm wetness enveloped Matt’s aching cock and his excitement was palpable. Frank worked his shaft with minimal movement, just to tease.

“Uh-uh. Stay still for me.” Frank instructed, placing a firm hand on Matt’s abdomen to keep him from bucking upwards into Frank’s mouth.

“Oh come on. ” Matt complained, licking his lips, increasingly desperate for contact.

Frank raised an eyebrow, and for Matt’s small insubordination, he left Matt’s straining member alone, dragged a knee up to his chest, and then started leaving a mark on Matt’s inner thigh while his hand caressed his other butt cheek.

Matt gritted his teeth and his fingers knotted in Frank’s messy hair. But he waited patiently for whatever was coming next. Mercifully, it was the continuation of a blowjob. The sigh he let out at the return of the warm contact could have fed Frank’s ego for weeks.

As a reward, Frank started stroking Matt’s length where he couldn’t reach with his mouth, and occasionally fondling his sack. With some lubrication, Frank pressed a finger gently against Matt’s twitching hole too. It was a matter of minutes before Matt came apart.

“Frank... Frank… Frank!” He gasped. “You need to s-stop. I’m gonna…”

Frank merely smirked and let Matt’s hips go free at last.

Matt threw one hand up to his own mouth to stifle himself and he fucked upward into Frank’s throat. His effort didn’t muffle much of anything.

Frank tried his best to swallow Matt’s load, but he’d had no experience receiving one before. He ended up just letting it slide back down Matt’s shaft as he continued to bob his head until Matt was spent and breathing hard. He sat up, wiped his mouth, and admired his handiwork.

Matt was flushed and his mouth hung open as he breathed. His arm was thrown over his sightless brown eyes and he had a smile on his stubbled face. “Oh my god Frank.” He breathed. He sat up and kissed Frank on the mouth, pulling him close.

“Not too bad then?” Frank boasted when they broke apart.

“Not too bad,” Matt echoed him decisively. He reached down for Frank’s noticeably neglected hard-on. His briefs were very slick. He guided Frank to sit down on the edge of the bed, and Matt moved to kneel down on the carpet in front of where he was sitting.

Frank groaned as Matt palmed him again, licking his lips greedily and just about ready to go down on Frank himself. “Wait, wait a minute Red.”

“Hm?” Matt rose and kissed Frank tantalizingly on the lips.

“Maybe just hands, y’know, given your throat situation.” He was looking out for Matt even now.

Maybe he was right, but it didn’t stop Matt from slowly taking Frank into his mouth as far as he could, bobbing his head for a few strokes, and leaving a bunch of wet saliva behind.

Frank’s eyes started to roll back with pleasure and he squinted them shut with a sigh. “Goddamn it Red,” he said quietly, gripping his strong shoulders.

Unfortunately, Matt did feel a cough coming on and so he stopped his ministrations with his mouth. He switched to his hands.

At this point he just wanted Frank to come to climax. His techniques were limited without the proper use of his mouth, but he could still think of some ways to have some fun with Frank.

Matt stroked and twisted with his hands as Frank watched him concentrate. He could still breathe if he simply licked at the head and sides of Frank’s hot cock as he stroked the rest with his hands. It wasn’t too hard to find a rhythm and technique that Frank liked. His body told Matt everything he needed to know. And Frank himself let Matt’s praises roll off of his tongue.

“Oh god, Red.” He said again and again. “You’re just so pretty. Just you wait until I can really get my hands on that perfect ass.”

Matt hummed his approval, and even that felt good when his mouth vibrated from the noise.

Frank groaned and grabbed the back of Matt’s auburn brown hair as he got closer and closer. He could feel a deep orgasm coming soon. And Matt, pretty Matt, was going to get him there.

To Frank’s surprise Matt stopped what he was doing and brought Frank to his feet. Matt then lay down flat on his stomach where Frank had been sitting on the edge of the bed and presented his thighs and ass.

“You can use my thighs.” He explained, pink in the face.

“Heh.” Frank smirked. “So thoughtful of you sweetheart.” What a sight. Frank almost didn’t believe such a tempting and submissive display could be real.

Matt blushed harder and buried his face in the comforter. Frank licked at his own fingers and applied the improvised lube to the space between Matt’s thighs where they almost joined with his fantastic glutes. He slid in between that soft space. Slowly at first. Just teasing what could be. But Frank had already been close, and he was determined to finish strong.

Frank set a respectable pace. He grabbed Matt’s hips and pleasured himself with Matt’s thighs, all while praising Matt and groaning loudly when he watched Matt’s ass bounce. Matt could hardly take it, he wanted Frank inside him as soon as it would be possible, and bucked back to help Frank out as much as he could.

Frank got there soon. He bent over Matt, grabbing his hips, and thrusted harder, kissing Matt’s back. He came between Matt’s soft, muscular thighs before collapsing over Matt’s back and holding him close.

“Wow.” Matt breathed in disbelief at their chemistry. He was already semi-hard again, but too tired to maintain it. He knew he had a strange attraction to Frank before, but actually exploring that chemistry with him blew that attraction wide-open.

Frank was still breathing hard, “Fuck.” He shook his head and looked affectionately at Matt who was looking rather pleased with himself.

Frank pushed up from the mattress and helped Matt flip over onto his side and sit up. They sat there on the edge of the bed, Matt practically in Frank’s lap. He cradled Matt’s cheek in his left hand and drew out a long kiss that Matt enthusiastically returned with a shy smile.

“Come on. I think we’re overdue for a shower.” He coaxed.

“I think you’re right.”

Matt was especially messy.

“I’ll go get it going.” Frank couldn’t help himself, he planted another kiss on Matt’s temple. He looked too cute sitting there on the bed all spaced out.

Frank turned around to go and get the shower started. Neither of them bothered to dress. He walked lazily to the bathroom, pulled the glass door open and pulled the lever down. Water came down from the shower head in a heavy stream. It would need a minute to warm up. He pulled two towels and some rags from the linen cupboard and set them out on the bathroom counter. He grabbed a toilet paper roll, wiped himself off a bit, and threw away the tissue.

Frank used the restroom, washed his hands, and left the bathroom. He headed back to the bedroom to help Matt wipe off. Matt had already gotten busy cleaning himself as he was covered in his own and Frank’s cum. The Kleenex box Frank had brought in the night before came in handy for this task too. He offered to help, but Matt declined. He was almost done anyway.

Frank’s thoughts turned towards the kitchen. He headed down the hall again and got two more mugs down from the kitchen cabinet and fired up his coffee machine. He grabbed grounds and a coffee filter, put them into place, and pressed the ‘intense brew’ button. Coffee would be ready by the time they’d be done with their shower. He headed back towards the bedroom to fetch The Devil.

Matt had sprawled out in the bed again just to stretch and get comfortable but he rallied again when Frank entered the room.

“Come on Red, water should be warm by now.”

“Alright, coming.” He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up slowly. Frank took his hands and they walked together into the steamy bathroom. Matt kicked Frank out so he could also evacuate his bladder, but once he did so and washed his hands, he invited Frank back in and they shut the door.

The hot water felt heavenly. Frank let Matt stand under the steady stream first to wash his body. Matt thoroughly wet his hair and face, and drew Frank close to him with a contented sigh so that they would both be standing under the water. They stood there embracing and kissing in the steam for what felt like a half an hour before they began seriously washing themselves.

All of Frank's soaps were vaguely familiar to Matt and he kind of enjoyed using them. He usually used unscented ones as they messed with his senses. But every once in a while, it was nice to be enveloped by a scent like that.

They emerged from the shower wet, hot, and hungry. They toweled off quickly, and helped one another towel off. Frank started brushing his teeth at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist, and he offered Matt a brand new toothbrush to do the same. Frank was the type to have spares of everything. They stood there in silence and brushed before heading back to Frank’s bedroom to put on some clothes, and return to the kitchen for some coffee.

The coffee pot was hot, but the only food Frank had in the kitchen was some sliced sourdough bread and a bag of Kirkland trail mix. They decided on toast, and Frank switched on the TV in the living room.

Frank dropped the toast down into the machine and pressed the lever down. He turned to the fridge and managed to find some butter and even some strawberry jam.

Matt sank into the corner of Frank’s couch with his mug of coffee and started manually seeking through TV channels one at a time.

And if you act now you’ll get not one, but-

Surely you can’t be serious! I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley-

…yes! Rory Mcilroy sinks the putt!

Side effects of Humira include-

“-our main story: two vigilantes save a dozen children from a Russian mob human trafficking scheme. The vigilantes allegedly broke into an old shipyard to the east of Hell’s Kitchen, causing carnage! Fourteen suspects are confirmed dead from a tactical assault from a man that the rescued children are naming as “Bob”, last name unknown, and-”

Matt coughed, nearly spilling his coffee into his lap.

Frank choked out a laugh, “Really?!”

“I guess they didn’t want you to get in trouble.” Matt shook his head in disbelief. He’d offhandedly mentioned in the back of the truck with the kids last night that it would be better for the police not to know much about them. He felt torn between choice amusement, relief, and deep disappointment that his suspicions that Frank had killed again were true.

“Frank…” Matt began to chastise.

“Don’t start Red. We know how that conversation goes.”

Matt was silent for a minute. “…I know.”

Frank didn’t regret killing scumbags. Ever. But he did feel for Matthew, who was good, and held all life to be sacred. The Daredevil’s objections annoyed him, but not as much as it made him revere Matt sometimes. Everyone could be saved. Including Frank. Having Matt believe that had seen him through more misery than Matt would ever know.

“What I do when we go on the hunt together ain’t your fault either. I live by the sword, and so do they. I’m just better at not dying by it.” He gestured towards the TV report. “The world is a better place without ‘em.”

Matt frowned sadly, his brown eyes staring straight through him. “I know, Frank. I know you. I’m glad that we saved those kids, no one deserves to go through what they have. If we didn’t go around beating and shooting bad guys, they’d probably have never seen the light of day again. But you know; you deserve peace and happiness just as much as those kids do. I just don’t think you’ll find it living by the sword. And now fourteen people will never find it either.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, “Could say the same about you, Red.”

“Hmph,” Matt laughed. “Yeah maybe.” He sipped his coffee in thought for a while, avoiding the continuation of their discussion.

They sat and watched the news program. Some of the children and family’s identities had been released. They had been checked out by medical professionals and would all recover from any external harm in a matter of weeks. A reporter was interviewing one of the family members of a kidnapping victim.

“-We’re just so grateful to have our boy Paxton back,” the old man choked up. “If anything had happened to him, well… we would just die. Daredevil, and “Bob” if you’re out there. Thank you. Thank you.” The old man wiped his eyes and smiled, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it. “My grandson drew this to say his thanks too. I hope that you boys can see it somehow.”

The man held the picture up to the camera.

Frank rumbled with laughter. “Oh that’s good!”

“What?! What does it look like?” Matt tugged at Frank’s shirt.

“He’s got vision for sure. It’s a picture of us! Looks like he used colored pencils. It’s a bit better than stick figures, we have big muscles. You’re all red, and he got your horns. He also gave you a bunch of shark teeth!”

Matt found himself smiling, “That’s awesome actually.” He snorted. “What about you?”

“Well, I got even more muscles,” he bragged. “Spiky black anime hair and beard, and two huge guns the size of missiles.”

Matt made to roll his eyes. “That sounds about right.” Matt sipped his coffee. “Funny kid.”

Frank grunted an affirmation.

Both of them were touched by the gesture.

They changed TV channels again and found a movie to watch, and listen to: “Independence Day” (1996). It was just starting.

The toast popped up, Frank went to go prepare it, and he brought it back. Matt thanked him, and they watched the movie for a while: U.S. Marine Captain Steven Hiller responding to a planetary alien invasion.

“You know, this movie kind of hits differently after the attack on New York.” Matt noted with a frown. He was snuggled up against Frank’s side by now, and Frank had his arm around Matt’s shoulders.

Frank scratched the back of his head and grimaced, “It kind of does, huh.”

They watched on, and spent the afternoon just wrapped up on the couch together with their feet up. They even started another movie, but they spent so much of that time kissing and groping one another that they really weren’t sure which movie it was. By this time, the toast wasn’t sustaining them any longer. Frank called for Thai food delivery from a hole-in-the-wall spot he was fond of, and that Matt was eager to try.

After dinner, Frank checked Matt’s oxygen levels again. Matt had spent the whole day coughing periodically, clearing out more smoke. His condition was seemingly slowly improving, especially after the oxygen supplement last night. They agreed that one more night using the tank should be enough, but Frank was insistent that Matt take it easy at least until Friday. Six days.

Of course Matt was already antsy, but Frank was unmoving about this.

Pouting, Matt had demanded that all of the windows in the condo be opened for the clear night breeze, the coffee table in the living room be pushed over to the side by the wall, and that Frank join him on the floor for stretching and healing meditation.

“Not too strenuous, right?”

Frank was suspicious that Matt The Daredevil would try to exercise too hard.

“Nothing too bad.” Matt stretched, he bent forward with his forehead touching his knees, arms outstretched past his ankles in a forward bend.

“Easy for you to say.” Frank strained, puffing breaths out with effort. Flexibility wasn’t his strongest suit. “This is bullshit.”

He could bend forward a bit before he found his limits, but he wasn’t that bendy.

“Well, it does take regular practice.” Matt conceded, propping himself up on his elbows while bending forward in side-splits.

“Jesus Christ.”

Frank was stuck between repulsion and attraction to this feat of flexibility.

Matt smirked, and moved into a side bend.

Frank did his best to follow along with the various stretches. As painful and stupid as he found it, there was something that felt kind of nice about stretching. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d lose a battle of effort to The Daredevil.

Frank did not participate in the meditation portion of Matt’s routine. He simply watched from the kitchen table, sipping from a cup of coffee as Matt held perfectly still, cross-legged on the floor. It did seem as though being that boring was beneficial in some way. When Matt opened his eyes again, he seemed truly relaxed, or at least settled. It even seemed like he was breathing easier.

"And that really works on your aches and pains eh?”

Part of him was genuinely curious. Matt could hear his sincerity. After nearly ten years of being The Punisher, Frank had some lingering aches and pains himself.

“It does if you know what you’re doing.” Matt answered. “Meditation and yoga aren't all about influencers and spandex you know.”

“Well I’ll give you one thing; you’ve got the red spandex part down.” Frank smirked.

“Asshole.”

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He shook his head and shrugged.

Matt’s ears burned and he threw a couch cushion at Frank.

“Whoa, easy! Watch the decaf!”

Matt looked over at him triumphantly. He got up from the floor gracefully and went over to shut and lock all of the windows again. Then he walked over to Frank.

“I didn’t actually spill anything, did I?” He asked, concerned.

“Nah. I was just teasin,’” the corner of Frank’s mouth twitched into a smile. He pulled a chair out for Matt at the table.

Matt sighed and dropped into it, "What am I going to do for six days, Frank?”

Frank was thoughtful for a moment, “Well I’m keeping you here tomorrow. But if you’re good, just go to work. Go home. Put your feet up. Listen to some books. Shit, do some finger painting, I dunno. Maybe you can do some more research into the Russians for me. Reading through bureaucratic bullshit drives me nuts. I dunno how you stand it, you can’t even read!”

“I can read braille just fine, thank you. If anything, I’m the one who should be surprised that you read anything at all!”

“What can I say, I guess I’m just a great catch like that.” He stretched, flexing his arms, and leaned backwards in his chair.

“Pft. Alright then, you wanna read me a book Mr. Great Catch?”

“Oh what the hell. It’s better than playing Hangman, or sitting here an’ painting our toenails.”

Matt was pleased, he liked the sound of Frank’s rough voice. “What have you got?”

“How heavy do you want to get?”

“Not that heavy I guess. Got any action or adventure books?”

“Hmm,” Frank contemplated. “They’re all old school.”

He walked over to a small bookshelf by the TV. “I got ‘Hatchet’ by Gary Paulsen, ‘King of the Wind’ by Marguerite Henry… ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’ by Wilson Rawls… if you want to cry… ‘Treasure Island’ by Robert Louis Stevenson… And I’ve got-”

“What’s ‘King of the Wind’?” Matt asked.

“Well,” Frank scratched his head, “it’s a horse book. But it’s a good horse book. Written in the 1940’s. My daughter Lisa, she really loved it.”

Matt nodded silently.

“It, uh. It’s about a mute servant kid in Morocco that ends up taising and taking care of an incredible but supposedly unlucky racehorse. There’s a lot of travel, and it’s a bit of a survival book too.” Frank explained.

“Sounds like a pretty good book.” Matt could picture Frank reading it to his daughter.

“Yeah, it is.” Frank agreed, tapping his thumb absent mindedly on the spine of the book. “Could read that if you like.”

“Those are all classics… but if you’re up to it, I’d be curious to hear the story.”

Frank nodded appreciatively. He waved the paperback book so that Matt could hear it flap and led Matt by the hand back into the bedroom.

Matt climbed on top of the bed and lay down on his back with his hands clasped over his stomach to get comfortable, but Frank doubled back into the hallway.

“Wait a minute, I gotta grab something else.”

Frank returned with two wine glasses dangling upside down in one hand, and a dusty bottle of red wine in the other.

“Well this is getting cozier by the minute!” Matt remarked, sitting up.

“Thought you might appreciate this. I dunno if this is any good. A neighbor gave it to me when I got the keys to this place.”

Frank poured the wine and settled in on the bed next to Matt and began to read. Matt put his head on Frank’s shoulder and they read for a little more than an hour. The bottle of wine was empty, and they barely remembered to brush their teeth and give Matt another administration of oxygen before bed. Even though they didn’t do anything energy-consuming during the day, they were oddly tired and wanted nothing more than to hold one another and go to sleep.

Frank was missing his daughter and his family more than ever after reading one of Lisa’s favorite books aloud. But he was glad to have shared it with Matthew. Somehow he felt that his daughter, and maybe Maria and Frank Jr. had also been listening. Frank knew that Maria Castle would be pleased that he decided to remember and celebrate the things that their Lisa loved. To share them with someone new.

“Frank?” Matt called. He could practically feel Frank’s emotions.

“Mmm.”

“Thank you. For sharing. It’s a good story.”

“Thank you,” Frank pulled Matt closer, “for listening.”

Matt kissed the rugged arms and hands that were holding him from behind. He wiggled even closer back into Frank’s torso.

Frank brushed at Matt’s Auburn brown hair and held Matt even tighter. He placed soft kisses to the back of Matt’s neck and shoulder.

It wasn’t long until they were both breathing softly, peacefully asleep as the waxing silver moon shone through the cracks in the window blinds.

Chapter Text

Matt Murdock awoke to find Frank Castle’s side of the bed to be disappointingly empty. He could tell it was morning, he could feel the sun’s warm light coming in through the window. But Frank’s half of the bed was already cold.

Groggy and frowning, Matt wrapped himself up in the comforter and got out of bed to investigate.

As Matt slowly tuned in to the world around him, he wondered how he’d missed the smell of bacon, eggs, and potatoes sizzling down the hall from the kitchen.

“‘Morning sleepyhead.” Frank greeted him. “Sleep well?” He flipped the eggs in the frying pan and set it aside. “Nice hair.” He walked over to the puff-ball that was Matt enveloped in the Queen-sized comforter like he was going to trap him within the fluff and kiss his big forehead. Matt dropped the blanket before he could be hugged and trapped and kissed, and threw his arms around Frank’s waist. He pulled Frank into a demanding kiss that left them a little breathless.

“Mm-mm. You ditched me.” Matt hung his head and draped it on Frank’s shoulder.

“Are you pouting?” Frank chuckled. “Don’t be mad sweetheart, you know we were out of groceries. I had to go get some.” He attempted to smooth out a patch of Matt’s hair that was sticking up funny, and kissed Matt on the neck.

“Not pouting. Reviewing the facts.”

“Right.” Frank smirked, “Speaking of facts I seem to remember a certain someone snoring like a chainsaw this morning.”

Matt lifted his head from Frank’s shoulder, “No way!”

Frank threw his head back and made a buzzing and obnoxious snoring noise.

“There’s no way I did that!” Matt’s mouth was caught between a frown and a smile. Frank was being funny, he had to be. But the effort he was making made Matt feel warm butterflies in his chest.

Frank pointed a thumb at their breakfast, “All evidence to the contrary. I had to escape before you brought the roof down.”

“Mm, very funny. Well, the evidence does smell delicious!” Matt admitted. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Sure, can you cut some fruit for me?”

They prepared and ate a breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes, strawberries and kiwi. After they cleaned up their plates and some older messes they’d made, Matt and Frank both showered and got dressed. Matt needed to get out of the condo, he’d been cooped up too long.

Matt borrowed some casual wear from Frank, it wasn’t exactly his style. Dark grey cargo pants, fitted at the ankles, and an oversized white T-shirt. Frank had insisted that he wear his cross necklace on the outside of the shirt as more of an accessory than a talisman. At least the shirt was soft. Matt had to borrow some of Frank’s sneakers, a belt, and a pair of sunglasses too.

Frank wore a black, well-fitting polo shirt and jeans with a belt and matching boots. He grabbed his keys, a watch, sunglasses, and his wallet from the tray by the front door.

They exited the condo and descended the stairs into the parking garage. Their steps echoed in the space. Matt was led over to a motorbike. A huge grin slowly spread across his face.

“Are we- are we really going for a ride?” He squeezed Frank’s arm excitedly. He’d never been on a motorcycle before and he couldn’t wait to see what it would be like.

“‘Course we are! I’m guessing you’ve never done this before?” Frank chuckled at Matt’s excitement.

Matt shook his head, “yeah, no I haven’t.”

“Ok. Well, first thing’s first. I’m gonna sit in front, but there should be enough room for you on the raised back part of the seat.” He let Matt feel the leather seat. “Your feet go on these pegs.” He flipped two pegs outward, one on either side of the bike. “Try not to touch the exhaust pipes or the engine. Those are gonna get pretty hot. ‘S why we’re wearing pants and closed-toed shoes.”

Matt nodded. All pretty intuitive stuff.

“You may want to plug your ears for a second.” Frank swung his leg over the seat, settled in, helped Matt onto the bike too, pressed a few buttons, and turned the rumbling engine of his custom Indian Chief bike on. It idled deeply, the sound echoed through the garage.

Matt was grinning from ear to ear, holding onto Frank’s sides.

Frank kicked the bike into gear and they rode up and out of the garage into the sunlight. “Now when we turn, I want you to lean into the turns with me. That’s about it!”

Matt nodded eagerly into Frank’s shoulder. It would be difficult to talk during the ride due to the noise.

They rode just to ride. To feel the sun and wind in their faces and in their hair. To pass by shops, apartments, restaurants, the park, and the happenings of the city on a Sunday. They had no planned destination. Matt’s heart was pounding. Being pressed up against the ever-sturdy Frank made him relax. He enjoyed taking in the sound and… most smells of the city in this way, even if the bike noise and gasoline smell was kind of a lot. The free feeling he got from cruising was very pleasant. He leaned into Frank, and the way that Frank’s heart rate picked up pace was both flattering and endearing.

They rode north, all up and around Central Park. First they passed up Broadway, but they turned towards Central Park to go past the Museum of Natural History and up Central Park West. There were street artists, horses pulling carriages, vendors, and tourists everywhere. It was nice to see so many people out and having a good time. They went around the edge of the whole park, seeing residents and tourists picnicking, walking their dogs, out with their families, talking on the phone, jogging, dancing, passing out mixtapes, and doing just about anything one could do in Central Park. Frank and Matt had to weave around my double-decker tour buses full of people on their way to see the sights.

When they neared the end of their circuit of the park, Frank parked the bike in a spot on 5th street. They were near the southeast corner of the park. It was now around 1:00pm.

They didn’t have to walk far, they found a quaint coffee shop with outdoor seating and big red umbrellas. It had a nice view of the park, and an old guitarist was picking and strumming bossa nova jazz in the corner.

“Have you been here before?” Matt asked. The smell coming from the inside of the little Italian bakery and deli was amazing.

“Nope. But I’m already thinking we gotta come back.”

Matt smiled.

Frank held open the door for Matt and they met the host, who greeted them and led them to a table outside by a large pot of flowers and the brick wall of the building.

Both Frank and Matt were put at ease by being sat by a wall. They wouldn’t have to watch over their shoulders as much. Old habits.

They settled into their seats, and each ordered a black coffee and a latte with oat milk. The waitress left them a menu to read. Frank read the menu to Matt.

There were Italian sandwiches, soups, salads, and appetizers like charcuterie and fruit plates, and a drink selection. Not to mention the pastry counter that had several types of cannolis, muffins, scones, and biscotti.

They sat and enjoyed the ambiance for a while, then ordered sandwiches with soup. They talked about baseball and boxing matches. But after a while they fell into silence.

Frank sipped at a refill of his coffee and stared at Matt, who could tell that Frank was working up to saying something.

It made him nervous, as restless as he was being unable to function at full capacity, Matt had been absorbed in the dream-like truce between them over the weekend. His mind raced to the worst-case scenario: their Sunday was slipping by and it would be back to ‘real life’ tomorrow. But he waited politely under the microscope for Frank to put his words together. After all, there would be no stopping him once he’d come to his conclusion.

Frank tapped his thumb on the handle of his coffee mug and bit at his lip in thought. He stared at Matt, who shifted under his gaze but kept talking and making jokes, fumbling with his soup spoon.

“Matt.” He started.

“Yeah?” Matt responded with a brave smile.

“…Why now?” Frank asked.

Matt swallowed, “Why… now?” He responded, a little confused.

“Yeah. Why kiss me now? Why indulge me now? I’m sure you’ve known about how I’ve felt for a little while. Why now?”

He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t accusing. Matt could hear the vulnerability in his voice, in those questions. Those were good questions.

“I can’t take back my past.” Frank continued. “I can’t take back the stuff I’ve done and I wouldn’t. And you probably won’t like some of the things I’m going to do either.”

Matt leaned back in his seat and thought. “Why now.” He repeated. “Hmph. Well, it’s true, you’ve been a pain in The Devil’s ass. I don’t agree with your methods and you know this. By that logic, I should be trying to put you in jail any time that I see you. But there’s always been something about you Frank. I can’t. I don’t want to see you behind bars. I believe that everyone has the right to life, but part of me… a small part of me does agree with you. These people we deal with rarely change, and it’s so frustrating.”

Matt paused, lost in his complex feelings. Frank waited patiently for Matt to continue.

“There is a theory I’ve heard that love is born from sympathy... Not pity!” Matt corrected immediately.

“Love can come by sympathizing with another. You and me… I mean, are there any other crazies in town that do what we do, like we do it? You’ve always understood me Frank. Even if we butt heads.”

Frank nodded in thoughtful silence.

“You must have been sympathizing with me too. I always thought that you have, on some level. You only tried to shoot me in the head once after all.” Matt joked self-effacingly. “I think maybe you even agree with me about mercy sometimes.”

“You’ve seen me at my best and my absolute worst, and whenever I really needed you, you’ve always been there. Even if that meant we’d fight it out. And that is something I’ll always be grateful for. Always.”

“You know how to get through to me,” Matt swallowed. “I don’t have a lot of people. I didn’t have family for long, and I’ve lost a lot of friends. My best friend. You helped me to get back on track when it broke me; to start my life again… You love so fiercely. It’s like gravity to me.” Matt’s face was starting to turn red, and he had to fight to keep his voice even.

“I was denying it for a while; I told myself I didn’t need anything more; that I couldn’t help you; that I could never give you anything like your family could; that you didn’t really feel it too.”

Frank leaned forward in his chair over the small table and grabbed Matt’s hands.

“It would be messy, wouldn’t it? And I might lose you too. It seemed like it wasn’t the right time for you either. Not for a long while; not until the other night. I could hear your heartbeat, and it just confirmed everything for me.”

Matt smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know the heartbeat thing isn’t really fair.” He finished. It felt oddly cathartic to finally lay all of his cards out on the table, even if it was nervewracking.

Frank was squeezing Matt’s hands tightly, “Oh Red. You’re the most dedicated and maybe thick-headed sonofa bitch I ever met. And I’m thinking maybe we really do deserve each other.”

He slid one hand up Matt’s arm and caressed Matt’s cheek. He pressed their foreheads together and breathed a sigh as if he were savoring the moment. Matt couldn’t help but smile as he waited for Frank to continue, listening intently as they sat back up normally.

“My storybook happily ever after is long gone. I’ll always keep my wife and my family close and alive in my heart,” he tapped his hand over his chest, bitterly. “You’re kind of right, they were a singular blessing. More than a man like me ever deserved. I would never expect you or anyone else to fill that void. But you, you’re a whole ‘nother kind of blessing. From the start you’ve been trying to get me to see that life can continue. You believed in me, and my redemption. I just thought I didn’t deserve it.”

“And now?” Matt asked hopefully.

“Eh. Jury’s still out. I probably don’t deserve it. But, here you are. Here we are, and life is continuing on.”

Matt nodded, considering what Frank had said. “… So where do we go from here?”

“Cute.” Frank thought. “Well-”

At that moment, a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the streets of New York. A warm afternoon squall had blown in without either of them noticing. Fat raindrops began to stain the café umbrellas and pavement into a darker hue. People began to take cover. The guitarist stopped playing and began to save his amp and equipment. Some staff helped people move their things inside.

Frank just chuckled and leaned back in his metal seat, appreciating the timing of the universe.

“We are gonna get so soaked if we ride back now.” Matt groaned, grinning and shaking his head.

They were already letting themselves get a bit damp.

Frank tossed a fifty-dollar bill onto the table, scooted his chair back, and stood up.

“Come on, Red. Let’s just go home.”

Matt reached for his hand, Frank took it, helped him up, kissed him discreetly, and didn’t let him go.

They walked slowly back over the cobblestone sidewalk to the motorbike that was parked across the street by a Central Park entrance as people scrambled around them. Some had umbrellas, groups of tourists fiddled with yellow plastic ponchos as they tried to put them on. Frank turned over the engine and the bike warmed up. He hopped onto the seat and helped Matt situate himself on the back of the bike. The rumbling of the engine matched the deep rumbling in the sky as the cool rain continued to fall.

They pulled away from their parking space and into traffic, and Matt leaned into Frank’s broad back, his arms wrapped around Frank’s waist, and his chin rested on Frank’s broad shoulder. He closed his eyes for a while, just appreciating how warm Frank felt, and after he breathed a contented sigh, he placed a kiss there on his shoulder.

Frank was so very conscious of the gentle way that Matt leaned over onto his shoulder. The strong arms that wrapped around his waist kept him warm and made his heart race as they rode through the rain. He took one hand off of the handle bars and stroked at Matt’s hands, the part of him he could reach, which was resting on Frank’s stomach.

Frank twisted the throttle of the bike, the engine roared, and they sped down the road. He decided to take an unnecessary turn or two, just so they could keep going like this. Matt didn’t seem to mind that either.

However, their clothes were now utterly soaked. Wet jeans were a very strong argument for actually heading back to the condo. But Frank got an idea, and pulled them over onto the sidewalk that was closest to his local bodega. Frank rolled the bike underneath the bodega entrance’s cloth canopy and out of the rain.

Matt lifted his head, “Where are we Frank? Why’d we stop?”

“Just want to pick something up real quick. It’s the bodega down the block from the condo. I won’t be long. Just sit tight for a second.” Frank deployed the kickstand and dismounted from the motorcycle.

Matt blinked in confusion but did as he was asked, he left enough room for Frank to get off, and dismounted the bike himself. He waited outside as Frank went in to grab what he thought they needed.

Matt couldn’t help but shiver as he waited for about four minutes. At least the residual heat from the bike was kind of nice, but his clothes were very wet and cold. Matt tried to wring out his oversized T-shirt. Frank emerged from the bodega with a single doubled-up plastic grocery bag that sounded very full.

“Alright, let’s get outta here.” Frank greeted him, touching Matt on the small of his back as he hung the plastic bag over one of the handle bars.

“Got everything? I’d hate to have to come back out here!” Matt shivered a little in good humor.

“Yep. All set. Come on Red.” Frank sat himself on the motorcycle again. He patted the back seat. “Let's get home.”

When they pulled into the garage of the condominium, dismounted the bike, and climbed the stairs to the lobby elevators Matt asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s in the bag?”

“You mean you don’t already know Mr. Super Senses?”

“Well, I’ve got a pretty good idea. There’s two sealed bottles with liquid, one of them is glass, the other plastic, I think you have vanilla bean ice cream in there, a frozen bag of something, and some smaller packages. Certain sealed items are hard to identify.”

The elevator took them up to the third floor and they stepped out into the hall.

“That’s pretty good, Red… But I’ll show you those later, ‘s not that important.” Frank unlocked the front door, they stepped through the threshold, and secured the door behind them.

“Hmph. Alright then. Something that was important enough to stop in the rain and get, but not important enough to be mentioned. Makes perfect sense.” Matt stood in the entrance with his arms crossed. He didn’t want to get the floor wet.

They took their shoes off and Frank set the bag on the kitchen counter. He put away the frozen items.

“First thing’s first Red: we gotta get out of these wet-ass clothes.”

“You know what, that’s very fair.” Matt conceded. Every part of him was tuning-in to Frank’s presence.

Frank slowly walked over to Matt and helped him lift the soggy, oversized T-shirt over his head with cold hands. He kissed Matt as his arms were raised and trapped over his head.

Matt shivered at the kiss and touch, pleased to be rid of the annoying fabric, and eager to have more contact, more kisses. He wanted to help Frank remove his own polo shirt, but Frank still held his hands up high.

Frank initiated a deeper kiss and pushed Matt back into the front door with a light bump and pinned him there with one arm. His other hand came down and tilted Matt’s chin up as they kissed.

Matt tried half-heartedly to struggle against this treatment, but the thigh rubbing between his legs ensured his compliance. His frustration only turned them on.

After a moment Frank released him, Matt’s hands slid down and around Frank’s neck. His hair was still wet and cold, but their lips warmed up quickly. Frank hoisted Matt up and pinned him against the door. Matt wrapped his legs around Frank’s hips and moaned as Frank squeezed the place between his butt and thighs.

Frank noted that Matt enjoyed being handled. He smirked into their kiss, and carried Matt over to the bedroom. A blushing Matt tried to wiggle out of being carried down the hall.

“Frank?? You don’t have to carry-”

Frank spanked Matt’s ass just hard enough to make a sound.

“Ugh.” Matt moaned. “Such a jerk!” He kissed Frank roughly and bit his bottom lip. Frank gave Matt’s firm ass one more squeeze before he dropped him onto the bed.

Matt’s sightless and indignant gaze found Frank’s face, “Two can play at that game!” He taunted, tugging Frank down onto the bed with him and pinning him on his back.

Matt had Frank pinned down with his knees on Frank’s shoulders, hovering above his face.

“You got me. Nice view.” Frank’s eyes roamed appreciatively up and down Matt’s whole torso. His hands came up to unzip Matt’s borrowed grey pants, and pull down his boxers as far as they would stretch. Matt’s cock sprang free and Frank brought him into his mouth.

He worked Matt slowly at first, and then thoroughly. Matt bent forward to grab the headboard of the bed to support himself, panting.

Frank pulled down Matt’s pants a bit further under his ass. He fished a small box from his own pants pocket and opened it. Inside was a packet of lube. Frank tore it open and applied the contents to his fingers and Matt’s ass.

As Frank worked and softened Matt’s entrance, the moans from above grew more frequent, and the thrusts into his mouth more desperate.

Matt couldn’t take it. Between Frank’s mouth and his fingers pushing into him, brushing against a sweet spot, there was almost no room for thought for what felt like several minutes.

Matt was sufficiently distracted; Frank stopped his rapt attention and managed to bring Matt down on the bed instead.

Dark eyes explored Matt’s scarred body from on top. Frank brushed his fingers over the largest one on Matt’s midsection, and the healed-over bullet hole on his left shoulder. Frank kissed Matt like it could undo the damage, and went back to prepping Matt’s entrance.

“Frank, hurry!”

Frank looked down at him greedily, “Yeah right. You’ll have to ask a little nicer than that.”

He curled his fingers in a way that made Matt squirm.

“Oh Frank, please… please. I need you.”

“Hmm?” Frank purred, “You need me to what?” To Matt’s delight, he repeated the same motion.

“Agh, Frank I need you, not your fingers. Please. Please just fuck me!”

Frank immediately stopped his teasing, got up, and stripped off his damp clothes. Matt kicked off the rest of his damp pants and waited on the edge of the bed.

Frank walked back up to where Matt was sitting and ran a finger down Matt’s stubbled jaw until he reached his chin. He tilted his face up and kissed him gently. His heart was beating so fast.

Matt swallowed his nerves and slowly lay on his back, he lifted his knees up, waiting. He could feel Frank’s eyes on him.

“So pretty,” Frank admired, he licked at his bottom lip in anticipation and stroked himself for a few pumps. Applying more lube and a condom.

Matt blushed harder. “You gotta cut that out, I’m not-”

“Yes you are. I think you know you are. I know you like to show off. This pose… That red suit of yours… and the tight lawyer suits you got. You know exactly what you’re doing, Red.”

Matt started matching Frank’s pace, stroking himself, enthralled.

“You can’t imagine what you do to me.” Frank started teasing Matt’s entrance again.

Matt hissed in pleasure. “Please...”

Frank smirked and lined himself up. He pushed in slowly.

Matt cried out and gripped at Frank’s arms, whose hands were grabbing Matt’s hips for support. Frank stopped to let him adjust, and kissed him softly. “Relax, relax… You’re doin’ so good…”

Matt welcomed the distraction and tried to relax. He made a few small thrusts and adjustments to get comfortable, bouncing on his dick, gradually taking him in.

Frank groaned, “Matt, you feel amazing…”

Once it seemed like he could keep going, Matt nodded a little.

Frank hummed an acknowledgement and kissed him again before moving purposefully slowly. A struggle that would be worth it.

At that pace, Matt’s entrance relaxed gradually. Both of them were flushed and panting, feeling a smoldering pleasure, and the excitement of their newfound closeness. Matt interlaced their fingers and kissed Frank’s knuckles. At that sight Frank thought his dick might never have been harder. He knew that was full permission.

“Frank I can’t… I need more!” He begged over slow, wet noises. “Please…”

The wet noises immediately picked up the pace. Frank was hit with relief and he relished the sight underneath him. He bent forward, grabbed Matt’s cock again, stroking it rhythmically, and kissed at the place where Matt’s neck met his shoulder until a red mark formed over his collarbone. Matt cried out sweetly underneath him all the while, meeting Frank’s thrusts.

“You gettin’ close, sweetheart?” Frank asked, gruffly soft, as Matt hadn’t been able to say much in a while. A fact that stoked his ego.

Flushed and strung-out, Matt could only nod, making the noises of pleasure he had been vocalizing. “So… close…” he managed.

Frank felt a surge of affection, “Good. It’s alright; you can cum for me, gorgeous...”

He probably wouldn’t last much longer either. Matt was so wet, and hot, and tight.

Matt moaned at the compliment, and if he was being honest, the permission. It seemed that that was the only thing standing in his way.

Matt savored the build-up. He could feel his orgasm coming on. Frank was so solid, but soft. His rough hands were so gentle. He smelled so good, the soft coffee, peppermint, and pine scent enveloped him. Matt clung on to Frank like he was an anchor in a storm. Frank’s stiff cock pounded against his sweet spot with every wet thrust. His ass felt so strange, but God, it was good.

“Agh!!” Matt cried out as he spilled his load between them in spurts. “Frank..!!”

Frank thrusted even harder into Matt’s firm ass, absolutely drinking in the sight below him.

They reached for each other, and kissed deeply. Frank moaned, groaning into their kiss as he finished inside him. He stayed inside for several minutes as they came down from their high. Matt kissed his face all over, slowly, and settled on his lips again. They breathed softly, enjoying the bliss.

Frank pulled out, collapsed on the bed next to Matt, and held him close. They stayed like that for more than 30 minutes. Just holding each other close. Pressing kisses on any place they could reach. Frank stroked through Matt’s hair, and Matt rubbed lines up and down Frank’s body.

It had been so long since Frank had been like this with anyone. The last time, of course, being with his wife. But he didn’t really think of her now, at this moment. Matt was in his arms, and he found himself amused. He’d hardly imagined they’d eventually end up like this when they first met, years ago. It took a while, but it did feel right.

Matt felt a great urge to simply doze on Frank’s warm chest. He was spent, and a little sore. He might have actually done so for a few minutes, but he stayed awake. He thought about Frank, and wondered how he might be feeling. His heartbeat told him that he was in the same soft place that Matt was, and his gentle kisses affirmed it. Matt closed his eyes and smiled into Frank’s chest. He thanked God for this moment.

After several minutes of laying there, listening to the afternoon rain tap at the bedroom window, they got a bit restless, and more motivated to clean up a bit.

They got up from the bed and made to wipe themselves down. Frank threw away the condom and the leftover wrappers, and put the wet clothes in the hamper. They threw on some sweatpants and a tank top, and baggy shirt respectively.

“You wanna know what was in the grocery bag?” Frank asked.

Matt huffed a laugh through his nose, “Sure, Frank! What is it?”

They walked to the kitchen, and Frank twisted the two bottle caps open. The spiced and sweet smell was obvious.

“Ohhh my God. ” Matt groaned in the way that only dad jokes can make one groan. “Frank. Are you serious right now?”

“As the plague,” Frank crossed his heart. “What, you don’t like Piña Coladas?”

“I’d say I like them just about as well as getting caught in the rain.” Matt cracked a smile, shaking his head.

“That’s the spirit, Matty.”

“I just had no idea you were so corny, Frank!” Matt teased as he went to sit on the couch in the living room.

“I tell you what, the best relationships are built on corny.” Frank began prepping his drink station. “And it might be raining, but it’s still New York in late July. ‘S hot and freakin’ humid.” Frank tore open the bags of his frozen groceries, pineapple chunks, ice, and ice cream, and set them on the counter. He found a blender hiding in an upper cabinet by the fridge.

Matt plugged his ears as Frank operated the blender. They didn’t have any fancy glasses to use, but they found two mismatched coffee mugs. The drink was so thick, like a milkshake, that they had to consume the boozy mixture with a spoon. It was, admittedly, really good!

They enjoyed the frozen treat and watched the rain for a few minutes before switching on the TV again and cuddling up on the couch together.

The rain stopped sometime around sunset. Matt gathered up his Daredevil suit and gear from where Frank had hid it in a closet, borrowed a backpack from Frank, and stowed it away.

It was time to go home.

Matt would have to wear his current outfit, the sweatpants and big T-shirt, home. Frank also gave Matt a sweatshirt, but he himself only changed into dark cargo pants and combat boots. He grabbed his bike keys from the dish by the front door and played with them distractedly as Matt tied his borrowed shoes slowly.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you… for this weekend.”

“… Of course, Red.” He said after a moment.

Frank rubbed a hand at his own bearded chin. “Can’t have you dyin’ on me. You promise me you’ll be good this week?”

Matt gave him a wry smile, “You want a fuckin’ pinky promise from me, Frank?”

“You little shit!” Frank scolded. “Here I am worried about your good health and-”

Matt stood up quickly and pulled Frank into a kiss.

“I promise!” He said gently. He gave the slightly taller man a loving smile, and brushed a stray hair from Frank’s forehead. Frank worried too much. But Matt supposed that was valid.

Frank wasn’t sure if he wanted to give him a dead arm or kiss Matt until he couldn’t stand up.

“God, he’s so beautiful.”

Frank grumbled a bit as they descended down to the parking garage. They hopped on Frank’s motorcycle and the engine roared to life.

After riding a ways through the rain-damp and reflective streets, they stopped at a street vendor’s taco stand for dinner, where they ate under the vendor’s string lights, and continued on to Matt’s apartment. Matt clutched at Frank’s sides as they rode, resting his head on Frank’s shoulder again.

When they reached the apartment, Frank parked the bike and carried Matt’s bag with the Daredevil suit in it up for him. It was an excuse to stay together just a bit longer. Matt squeezed Frank’s hand as they rode the elevator up to the 4th floor.

They reached Matt’s door far too soon. Matt pushed it open, his own familiar smell drifted out from the open door. They hesitated in the doorway.

“Thanks for the ride, Frank. You know you didn’t have to do that.” He said politely.

“Yeah I know, Red. But l wanted to.” The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a genuine smile.

Matt laughed, “Yeah, I wanted to, too. I wish I could have a motorcycle!”

Frank smirked, “Well, anytime you want a ride, you just let me know.”

“Okay then.” Matt snorted. “How about this Friday when I’m better? I’ll buy dinner.” He fidgeted with the strap of his borrowed backpack.

“That’d be perfect.” Frank looked at him affectionately.

“Great!!” Matt cleared his throat, “erm, great. I guess I’ll see you Friday then.”

Cute.

“Friday.” Frank confirmed. “Just text me the time. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay. Will do.”

Frank leaned forward and kissed Matt goodnight. They savored the moment. And then Frank turned away, waved, and didn’t look back as he walked down the hall to take the stairs down to the street.

Matt shut his front door and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next. He heard Frank’s bike rumble down on the street, and he heard it travel farther and farther away down the road until it blended with the traffic of Hell’s Kitchen.

He sighed, and went to check his messages. He retrieved his abandoned cellphone from the coffee table. It had a few messages for him about work, and so he settled in at his desk and prepared for his upcoming work week with a steaming mug of mint herbal tea for company.

Matt didn’t remove Frank’s clothing until he woke up the next morning.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.