Who: Eliot Waugh and Matt Murdock Where: Their Apartment When: Monday, February 20 What: A Lazy Monday Reveals A Lot of Things Rating/Warnings: Low, though major spoilers for the Daredevil Netflix series Status: Completed via GDocs
When Eliot woke that morning he had the hardest time actually getting out of bed. He thought it was because of the previous night with Quentin. What he had intended to be a relaxed walk on the beach, a chance for them to talk and just be turned into yet another fight. He didn’t want to think about the words they’d exchanged. And he didn’t. Mostly.
The warmth of the blankets, the soft bed felt like a cocoon and he wanted to stay snuggled beneath them and chill. There was no rush or real desire to get up and get his day started. For that reason he’d switched on Netflix and found a movie. As nice as that had been, it was lonely. He looked over to the empty side of the bed. This would be better shared with someone. Not just anyone, but Matt. The mere thought of the man made him smile. He reached for his phone to text him.
Still in my pj’s. Still in bed. Feeling all chill & cozy.
Want to come join me?
It’s a holiday. You better be off work.
I’m wearing silk pj’s & no undies.
The replies weren't exactly immediate, but there wasn't much of a delay either. They were:
And they call me the devil…
I'd planned on staying in bed all day, but your offer is better
Be down in just a bit
And "just a bit" was really only a couple of minutes, and there was Matt, knocking on the door in gray sweats and a t-shirt he'd clearly gotten second hand because it had Ally Oops Women's Softball Team '02 in big letters across the chest that no one had bothered to warn him about. Probably because he didn't wear it outside of his own bedroom. He was still a little sleep rumpled, and it was obvious that he'd really just run his fingers through his hair rather than attempt to style it, but he was smiling even before the door came open.
Eliot read over the texts and grinned. He finally got out of bed only to go to the kitchen and put some popcorn in the microwave. He rummaged around a bit to get his stash of chocolate. As he contemplated whether or not Matt liked chocolate, the microwave went off followed by a knock on the door.
Walking over he opened the door, smiling brightly at the sight of Matt before cupping his face and leaning down to kiss him. “Hi,” he smiled again. “Glad you could come over.” He closed the door. The other looked so adorable and still sleepy. He couldn’t resist another kiss. “I’ve got popcorn and chocolate. I can find us something else if you don’t like that. And there’s water, soda, juice and Gatorade to drink.”
Wow, it had been such a long time since anyone had kissed him hello, leaving Matt to just stand there a bit stupidly for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Okay, real talk, that's a lot of decision making to do on a day when my brain feels like it's hit the snooze alarm about five times. Popcorn and chocolate sound good, though. Maybe with soda?"
He shifted his weight a little from foot to foot and chewed the inside of his cheek, unaccountably shy given that they'd both been around each other naked. Matt lifted a hand toward Eliot, but paused. "May I feel your pajamas? They sound soft. Nice."
He laughed because seriously, could Matt get anymore adorable? “Aww, sorry. You do look like you haven’t been up long. I’ll keep it short and simple,” he teased. “Popcorn, chocolate and soda coming up.” He was about to turn to go back to the kitchen when Matt spoke. The words went through him like a cool summer breeze that made you close your eyes and feel good all over. “Yes, you can. You don’t need to ask to touch me. I…” Eliot held off on saying more for the moment.
Even with permission, Matt felt this weird thrill of nerves right before his fingertips and then palm found and traced the buttoned edges of silk. It was a little like sliding his hand against body shaped and warmed water, and he moved slowly from chest to stomach before stopping at his waist. "I feel underdressed." His smile twisted with amusement. "Maybe I should have just shown up in what I usually wear to bed: nothing. What color?"
His eyes followed the path of Matt’s hands. Like any touch from the other it sent little waves of warmth and pleasure through him. He took a breath then slowly exhaled. He chuckled. “Not at all. It’s a lazy comfy day. You look perfect.” It didn’t matter what he was wearing.
Eliot lifted his gaze to Matt’s face and grinned. “Teasing and tempting me already. You really are naughty.” Those words momentarily made him think of the text the other had sent saying others called him devilish. He would have to ask about that. “They’re black. Classic. I do like color, but I’m poor until I get a job so I could only get one set. And when in doubt go with the classic.”
Tempting as it was to pull Eliot in against him, the far more persuasive desire to be lazy had its claws much deeper into Matt's mind. Some corner of his mind didn't like that. He ignored it. He had better things to think about anyway, like surprise gifts. Because he was a sap, and already had this idea that Eliot wasn't as used to nice gestures as he let on. "Bet it's sexy as hell. No roommate?"
“You bet your sweet ass it’s sexy as hell, I’m wearing it.” Eliot smirked in the most wicked way then laughed. Matt had this way of always making him smile, laugh and lift or at least push away, the worries and stresses he carried. “No roomie. He’s gone to cuddle up with someone else. It’s just me and you.” He leaned in and nuzzled the other. “Lucky us.”
He moved to the kitchen and added the popcorn to a bow then put it and the chocolate on a tray along with a soda and water. “Let’s go to my boudoir where I may or may not feed you popcorn and chocolate.” He grinned and made his way to his room then set the tray on the nightstand.
One of these days, Matt was going to be able to assist with the hosting duties, but it wasn't going to be that day. He also wasn't going to ask anything more about Quentin. They were world mates and now roommates, but Matt got a vibe from the pair of them that he wasn't sure what to make of, the kind that lingered long after they were separated. It had been there during their date Saturday night, and Matt hadn't said a word, just held Eliot's hand, kissed him when and where appropriate and generally basked in his presence.
He laid down and didn't hesitate to get comfortable, one arm raised and his hand tucked behind his head. He could hear Eliot, tracked his movements, the beat of his heart that was growing more familiar the more they were around each other. It made Matt smile all over again. "You're going to spoil me, y'know? And then I'll be insufferable."
Eliot handed Matt the soda then moved to place the bottled water beside him. He slipped into the bed sliding close to Matt then placed the bowl of popcorn between them, well, sort of. “Maybe I want to spoil you.” Truthfully Eliot felt like he was the spoiled one. Matt was unlike anyone he’d dated. Even if it hadn’t been that long since he’d met him, he knew he was falling for him. He didn’t think on it too hard. He simply let it be because everything about the older man just felt good and he didn’t want to overthink things.
“Anything in particular you want to watch?” He turned to look at Matt. Fuck. He looked so sexy and comfortable in his bed.
"One of your favorites." His choice didn't require a lot of thought. There were movies he'd watched a kid, but the memories wrapped up in the Before were sometimes painful. That was the last thing he wanted in his head. Matt set aside his drink for now and didn't reach for the popcorn, bypassing it entirely for the curve of hip he was learning so well. "Something you know well enough to describe to me when there's no dialog. Or you can distract me with sweet nothings. Conversely, I could be the distracter. I don't think it'd take much."
Eliot felt that fluttery feeling when Matt’s hand found its way to his hip. There really was only one choice that popped into his head, but he wasn’t sure the other would want to watch it. Of course it wouldn’t take much! Eliot was putty in his hands and really, it wasn’t like him, but he didn’t mind one bit. “Oh?” He leaned over, lips hovering near Matt’s ear and whispered, “You make my heart all fluttery and there’s no one I’d rather be with.” It was sappy as hell, but true. He pressed a kiss just below his ear then straightened up.
Reaching for the remote he turned the TV on. “You have to promise you won’t laugh. This is one of my biggest comfort movies. I’ve never told anyone. Not even Margo or Quentin.” He could imagine what Margo would say. Q on the other hand might be surprised, but wouldn’t give him shit. He found the movie and started it then set the popcorn aside. He shifted to lay against Matt on his chest, head tucked under his chin. “It’s Sense And Sensibility. The one with Kate Winslet, Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman.” He waited, wondering what Matt would think.
Damn, Matt really should expected that level of turnabout, but it totally took him right out at the knees. He'd been in fights that'd left him less winded, and he was flushed down to his neck. It seemed lame to come back with an equally soft "same", but it was all he could manage. Because, yeah. It was true. He really liked Eliot, and wanted to spend his free time with him when he wasn't in the office or on some rooftop, scratching that adrenaline itch. Matt shivered, the tiniest bit, but it settled as soon as the other man was against him.
His fingers worked their way into Eliot's hair, the curls impossibly soft. He didn't laugh, mostly because he didn't have room to do so. "I read some Austen in college. It started out as a way to impress a girl, but I got hooked after Pride & Prejudice. There are some phenomenal audio narrators out there. I revisit a few every few years, so this seems like fortuitous timing. But you're totally free to laugh at me. I won't hold you back."
There was no doubt that Matt confirming he felt the same eased some worry he’d been carrying around. He didn’t want to assume anything, wouldn’t, but that one word warmed him all over. A soft sigh escaped him when fingers found his hair. A little secret? Eliot like having his hair played with and brushed. Fuck anyone who thought that was girly.
He raised his head to press a kiss to Matt’s throat. “I’d never laugh at you for that. We all like what we like. I’ve only read Sense and Sensibility. I figure I’d give it a shot since I like the movie so much. I liked it, but reading isn’t so much my thing.” That was Q’s thing. Eliot focused back on the movie. “Do you want me to put on the descriptive audio?” He wouldn’t mind at all. “Or I can give you the detail when it’s quiet.”
"I'd rather hear your voice." Another easy admission. That's what this was. Easy. And in a way that made Matt so afraid things would go sideways. He never got Easy. It kind of scared him. Those were thoughts for later, though, when he wasn't relishing that brief press of warm lips. "Do you mind if I ask you things throughout? Or are you going to shush me so I don't ruin the best parts?"
Just that made Eliot feel giddy like some teenager experiencing their first relationship. So what? It was what it was and he loved every bit of it. “Alright, you’ll get the Eliot Waugh commentary. No, I don’t mind if you ask questions throughout because either way you’re going to get a full description of my favorite dress that Marianne wears,” he grinned.
He got more comfortable and focus on the movie and how good it felt to be laying like this with Matt. That in itself was a little distracting, but really, it was the best of both worlds - A good movie with the man he…liked. A lot.
The music, the accents of the actors, the familiar dialog and story beats interwove with Eliot's helpful descriptions and truly detailed analysis of the costumes. He could practically feel the satin against his skin. None of it really pulled Matt away from being totally present and aware. He stroked Eliot's locks, made small circles at his upper back, reveled in the scents he wrapped himself in and the slow steady beats against his ribs.
He had no idea what prompted it, but the curiosity got to be too much and Matt had to know. "What color is your hair? And your eyes, for that matter. I know it's a weird question, but I still remember colors, even if I can't see them anymore."
Eliot loved every character in the movie except Willoughby. He was a charming snake who gave up the woman he loved for money. Prick. His favorites were Marianne and Colonel Brandon. He could literally quote all the dialogue, but that would be annoying. So he shared the costumes, the landscape, the food and everything in between. All the while inwardly purring like a cat at Matt’s touches.
“Those aren’t weird questions,” he assured him. “My hair is brown. A dark brown and my eyes are brown. Boring, right?” He huffed a chuckle. “I’m 6’ 2” for the record. Tall and lanky as you know. Not muscled like you.” He nipped at a pec through the t-shirt Matt wore. “Can I ask you something?” He paused, feeling a little nervous. “Can I see your eyes? I don’t mean to offend you and if you don’t want me to see, I completely respect that.” Ugh. Could he be more awkward and weird? You probably weren’t supposed to ask blind people such things.
Matt gasped quietly at the little tease and wrapped a curl around his finger and gave it a tug. Turn about, and all that. "I've only known you for about a month and a half, and I can already categorically say that nothing about you is boring, Eliot." He tensed just the tiniest bit, wondering what was about to hit him—there were quite a few things he hadn't told the other man about yet. And he would, he just hoped it wouldn't be in the middle of a Regency era romance.
The relief of the innocuous question nearly made him laugh, but instead he smiled and freed a hand to reach up and pull his glasses off. "Prepare yourself for disappointment, 'cause they're on the brown side of hazel. Mostly I wear these things because it was impressed upon me at a very early age that people don't like it when they can't tell what you're focused on. By the time I was old enough not to care, it was a habit. I like them, though. The glasses. They make me pretend I can look badass."
“Thank you,” Eliot said sincerely. His emotions started bubbling up and he wasn’t quite sure where it was all coming from. He cleared his throat and focused on Matt and whether or not he was about to tell him his question was one you should never ask.
He sat up so he could fully see his face when he moved to take his glasses off. A soft wide smile spread over his lips, and he reached out to touch his face, fingers caressing. “Still the same handsome Matt I know.” There his emotions went again when hearing why Matt wore the glasses. It seemed sad to force anyone to do something for anyone’s sake. Suddenly Eliot laughed. “You are badass. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling you can completely hold your own in a fight or anything. I…” He captured the other's lips in a rather passionate kiss.
That was the second time Matt had heard him cut himself off, but before he could ask or attempt to playfully cajole the thought out him, he was entirely distracted himself in the best possible way. He hummed against Eliot's mouth, and his hands went to body like it was magnetized. Yet it seemed the more he thought about this escalating into something delicious, the less inclined he was to actually make it happen. The fingers clinging at the other's hip and shoulder, almost digging into them, gradually relaxed, until they were barely touching the body-warmed silk. "We're missing the movie."
He didn't even have space in his brain to be the least bit alarmed by Eliot's canny supposition of his skills at handling himself. Maybe later, Matt would freak out and over analyze it, but for now, he was content just to be.
The humming sent a fluttery sensation through him and Eliot once more caressed Matt’s cheek. He hadn’t been looking to get hot and heavy. He’d been overcome by his feelings and wanted to kiss the other man. “Okay,” he whispered against his lips, nuzzled him gently then settled back against him and went back to watching the movie.
When it ended he asked the obvious. “Well, what did you think? And who was your favorite character?” He smiled, shifting some to be able to look at Matt.
"It was good!" Matt's enthusiasm was sincere, if delivered slightly low key. "It helps that I knew the story already, but it was nice hearing the dialog from the various actors, instead of a single narrator. But I had to pick a favorite? Colonel Brandon. He's got a level head, and Alan Rickman's voice is amazing. It's the kind that works its way into your chest and just sits there comfortably. What about you? Who's yours?"
Eliot blinked because suddenly something felt a bit off. “Is everything okay?” He didn’t think the vibe he was getting really had anything to do with Matt liked or didn’t like the movie. It was something else. He was now distracted and not in the good way. “Alan Rickman’s voice is yummy. Just like Morgan Freeman’s. They could both read cereal boxes and it would lull me to sleep,” he grinned a bit.
“Oh, Marianne and Colonel Brandon are my favorites. Something about them being so different yet so alike, learning that real love isn’t about looks, but how one treats you, makes you feel in your heart and soul and how they treat you.” He stopped because he could go on and would bore Matt.
"Hm? Yeah, no, I'm good. Really good. Just kind of… lazy? Like, brain lazy." And everytime he tried to press on that feeling, examine it, he hit a wall. Matt wasn't too concerned, though, not when the whole thing netted him a snuggly Eliot. "I know what you mean about those voices, though. I tend to follow the narrators almost as much as I follow various authors."
He had a feeling the smile that crept on his face was an openly fond one. Regardless, he touched Eliot's cheek and followed the line down to his jaw. It was about as close as he'd come to actually tracing his features. Not because he didn't want to get a better idea of what the other looked like, but because the process could be incredibly intimate, and Matt wasn't sure if they were there yet. Kind of felt like it might be soon, though. Hopefully. "Go on. Tell me more. Let's hear your thoughts."
He wanted to press Matt, ask him again if everything was okay, but he didn’t want pressure or annoy him. “Well, it has been a lazy day so far. I see no sign of it changing. At least not for me and you’re not allowed to leave until I say so,” he teased with a soft chuckle. “You’re my snuggle bunny for the day. Sorry not sorry!” He grinned.
He leaned into the touch a little and sighed. “I don’t think you really want to hear me rattle on about the movie. You’d be bored in well under five minutes. Is there anything you want to do?” It came right out and it wasn’t at all intended to sound like it did. “I didn’t mean things like…that. Just a movie you wanted to watch or something. Eliot was visibly flustered and frowned at himself. He sat up and reached for his water. Uncapping it he drank deeply. “And you’re free to go anytime you’d like.” Fuck, he was sounding like an idiot.
It occurred to Matt that he hadn't really sat up or moved much at all during the movie, and he wasn't in a hurry to really change that up until Eliot sat up and his heart rate changed. Matt found his knee and squeezed gently. "Hey, no. I'm good right here." He grinned, open in his delight. "I've never been anyone's snuggle bunny before. I think I like it? But you should put on another one of your favorites. I, uh—"
Of course, it was Matt's turn to cut himself off as he picked up on the thread of his earlier maudlin thoughts. "My Dad and I didn't really go out to the movies much, and most of what we did watch was just old fights. Boxing matches. He was a boxer." He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. "Anyway, yeah—any movies I do remember are all kind of tied up in what happened to me, to him when I was a kid, so I don't really have any favorites. Just means I get to enjoy yours, yeah?"
Fuck. He was getting too emotional over nothing. His own insecurities which he tried to ignore and shove to the furthest part of his brain. Though Matt saying he was fine where he was assured him some. “You should like being my snuggle bunny. It involves me.” He laughed and there it was, confident, slightly cocky Eliot.
Eliot liked Matt sharing a little about his past, his family. He wanted to know more. “I don’t think you’d like all of mine. A number of them have boy kissing. Ewww!” He laughed more genuinely, but something was still there and if he was honest with himself he’d felt it earlier too. “Can we snuggle and talk?” There was a lot he wanted to ask the older man. And because he could be bold he put one question he had right out there ready to let it fall where it may. “Matt, are we dating?”
Once again, Matt was made to laugh so hard he snorted, and he pulled and pulled at Eliot until they were side by side and close enough that he could nuzzle the other's nose even as he wrinkled his own. "It's not porn is it? That's where I draw the line. Do you know how boring the descriptive track is on porn? Even the ones with dirty talk get repetitive. Not that I've tried more than once to have it on while I've had some… alone time."
He chuckled and lifted a hand to press against Eliot's neck, thumb against the side of his jaw and fingers curved and just barely petting the hair at the nape. Despite their joking around, this was a serious question, and Matt seriously considered it… for all of three short seconds. "Well, we've only been on one official date, but I'd like to think so. It's been a long time since I've dated anyone, so I hope you'll forgive me if I'm kind of bad at it. What I lack in experience, I more than make up for in enthusiastic attempts. 'S that sound like something you might be into?"
“Matt!” He swatted him playfully. “What do you take me for, a perv?” Pause. “Okay, I might…a little.” He laughed and nuzzled back against the other. His laughter was like music to his ears, it got to him. “Oh, I’m sure it was just one time. Yup, totally believe that,” he teased, imagining how odd it would be to watch porn with audio description on. That made him laugh again and shake his head.
A loud breath pushed out of Eliot, a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Relief washed over him. One date? No way. How could that be? Matt was attractive, smart, funny, had a great job and had something special about him that Eliot still found hard to put into words. “I can’t say I’ve seriously dated a lot, so we’ll stumble around together,” he smiled. “I’m not worried about you being bad at it, so far you’re doing great.” He hoped he could say the same of himself.
“Yeah, it’s something I’m into.” He leaned in for a kiss. Really into. “Will you tell me about the bruises from Valentine’s Day?” The tone became a bit more serious. “You can trust me. I know it’s earned, but I’m not going to judge you or anything. I just…want to know you’re okay.”
Were it not for the lingering pleasant buzz from the kiss, Matt may have been more capable of hiding the flicker of his smile or the way his brows contracted just hair before smoothing out again. "Okay, I know how this sounds, but I was helping out a friend who had some things to work through. Sometimes"—Matt's lips thinned for a moment and then he pushed out a sigh—"when you grew up like we did, you just have to pound your feelings out with another like-minded person. And, no, I'm clearly not talking about sex. Some people drink. Some people do drugs. People like us? We spar. We fight it out so we don't take it out on others. But, yeah. Yeah, Eliot, I'm okay. Promise."
Eliot listened, curious to know and truly interested. “Grew up like you did?” He was starting to feel there was a lot Matt kept close to the vest. That was fair. Everyone had things they didn’t like talking about, but when it came to the people he cared about things were different. He grinned a tiny bit. “I didn’t think you were talking about sex.” Not at all. People like us? What did that mean? That was a bit of a strange way to word things. “What do you mean by people like us?” Also, he was curious who this person was that he sparred with, but didn’t ask. “I get that mostly. Everyone has different vices. Just be careful. I didn’t like seeing those bruises.”
For the first time since his arrival, Matt actually frowned. There was no way to hide it, not when they were this close. He could have ducked his face into the space between Eliot's neck and shoulder, a place he normally enjoyed very much, but that seemed like cowardice. And he was 'the man without fear', so he took in a shaky breath and started telling Eliot everything.
He started with his Dad—Fightin' Jack Murdock—how he'd been a fighter for a living but had always done his best to keep Matt out of that life even before he lost his sight. He told Eliot about the accident, about hearing the screech of tires and running out to the street to knock the old man out of the way and being pitched to the ground, face splashed with some kind of industrial chemicals. How he'd shouted, how he'd screamed when the sky blurred and burned away to complete darkness—all while his Dad held him.
He told him about the months that followed, having to learn how to read all over again, but with his fingers and how encouraging his Dad had been even while he struggled with their finances and the medical bills. Desperate decisions were made that Matt wouldn't know about until years later: a fight was supposed to be thrown, but in the end, Jack Murdock chose his skill and talent and integrity over a quick buck. It cost him his life.
He told Eliot about the Catholic orphanage and meeting Stick and learning to fight. Really fight. Matt didn't linger on the details, other than Stick leaving because he was Too Soft, wasn't the weapon he'd been trying to hone him into. Granted, these were all things he wouldn't learn until well into adulthood, along with his girlfriend being a plant, and his mother having abandoned him and become a nun at the very church Matt attended. And that wasn't even touching on becoming a vigilante, which he did, telling Eliot about his nightly neighborhood patrols, dressed all in black until he'd earned the name The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
He glanced over a few of those long months: taking on and taking down Wilson Fisk; Elektra being killed; Elektra coming back again, but as the head of the organization that had killed her in the first place; driving his friends away—Foggy Nelson and Karen Page (and, oh, how his entire face softened whenever he talked about them); gaining his friends back because he realized he was going a little insane without them.
And that brought him up to now, and how he still went out most nights, but going back to the roots of his all-black look instead of the red body armor. Crime wasn't exactly as prevalent, but Matt still found enough to stop to take the edge off. "So when my friend asked if we could go and fight, I didn't hesitate." Matt's voice was almost hoarse now. Felt like he'd been talking for hours, hadn't realized how much he'd been holding in until it was all out there. "I'm sorry you don't like the bruises. I can't say I like them much either, since it usually means I need to try harder anyway, but I don't think I can give this up, either. Going out there, helping people without worrying about the confines of the law. I get the irony, trust me. But that's… I'd get if this was a deal breaker."
Eliot listened closely as Matt peeled back layers of his life, himself that revealed so much he’d wondered about. So much that made him sad. He couldn’t imagine living in an orphanage or losing his sight so tragically and father who obviously loved him so much. It touched him that he would share these things and be vulnerable. There was so much. His mother, girlfriend, and friends. Such tragedy. He reached for and took one of his hands holding it between his own.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me. I’m sorry you went through so much. I imagine it wasn’t easy and I wish it hadn’t been so.” There was the matter of Matt going out at night to dispense justice. Some might call him a vigilante. Eliot didn’t see it that way. It did worry him some though. He cared for Matt a lot. At the same time he knew he could take care of himself. Still, people were so unpredictable and no one was bullet proof.
He couldn’t explain why the bruises bothered him. That was something he didn’t talk about often. “The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, huh? A rightly intimidating name.” He grinned a little. “It’s not a deal breaker. I’m not here to change you or stop you from being you. I’m crazy about you just the way you are. That doesn’t mean I won’t worry, but I’m not going anywhere.”
It really wasn't until Matt had expelled a long breath, that he realized he'd been holding it in to begin with. He should have known that Eliot wouldn't be the type to run, but it was a lot. Matt was a lot. He tried not to be, but with a past like his, circumstances tended to get compounded. Reaching up, he traced the edge of those smiling lips and then kissed them slowly, sweetly. "Crazy about me, huh? A guy could get used to that. And you've gotta know I want to learn more about you, too, but in your own time. How you grew up, learning about magic, going to a magical grad school, ruling a magical land. I want to find out more about what makes you you. Wonderful, complicated, magical you."
Eliot melted into the kiss. Every kiss was better than the next and addicting. He grinned almost shyly and felt heat creep over his cheeks. “Yes. You know I’m crazy about you.” He couldn’t help it. He’d been drawn to the other man almost from the moment he met him.
Wonderful, complicated, magical you. Matt called him wonderful and magical. Really he shouldn’t be sighing like a love sick teen inside, but he was. Damn. The man had put a spell on him and didn’t even know. He was complicated too, but wasn’t everyone? “I will share my story. I promise. Not right now though.” Mostly because he didn’t want to take away from what Matt had shared. “I just want to snuggle with you and make out with you later. It’s going to happen, Murdock.” He chuckled and leaned in to kiss him again. “For now, cuddles and another movie.”
The tiny part of him that kind of wanted to chase the blush he could feel radiating off his skin with his tongue. But Eliot was right, and Matt merely smiled at him, open in his blossoming affection. "Sounds the best day I've had in a really, really long time."