Chapter Text
The Daredevil slides in the window, all shadow and form. He creeps across the room, past office chairs and old desks, his footsteps soft and silent. He finds the file cabinet he needs, pulls it open as quiet as possible. Not quiet enough. It squeaks.
It draws the attention of the one person in the entire law office. A single office worker, a lawyer, staying late to do important work, looks up from his desk. He peers into the darkness, past the lone bulb of his desk lamp. “Who's there?”
Daredevil stops moving. He considers his options.
“Hello?” The man stands from his desk. The lone light illuminates his features: blonde, shoulder-length hair, round face. “I see...someone. Who are you?” The streetlight outside shines through a window between the vigilante and the worker. Daredevil takes a step into that eerie orange light. The man gasps.
“You! What are you doing here?!” He stumbles back, away from the stranger, his back bumping into a file cabinet.
Daredevil lifts his hands in peace. “I didn't come for you. One of your partners is protecting a criminal and I need information. I won't hurt you.” He takes a step closer, though. Just in case the worker goes for the phone.
“I can't...I can't just let you take the file. That would be aiding and abetting!” He stands straight, no longer leaning back against the cabinet. He tugs his suit jacket. He even takes a step forward. “I must ask you to leave.”
Daredevil laughs shortly and takes a step forward to stand before this brave soul. “How polite,” he growls. “But you'll have to do better than ask. I don't respond well to suggestions.” And then, because he feels drawn to it, he takes another step forward, almost too close. “You'll have to use force with me, I'm afraid.”
The lawyer gulps. He raises a hand, places it on the Daredevil's chest, and shoves. But it's weak.
The vigilante barely moves. What he does do is hum a little in appreciation. The lawyer's eyes widen, then drop to Daredevil's mouth.
“Nice try. Next time, push a little harder. I like it when they push harder.” His voice has dropped lower, and the lawyer, clearing his throat, puts his hands on his chest again. But he doesn't push. He slides his hands up, over the shoulders, feels the texture of the suit. Feels the heat of the man inside it. Without realizing it, he's leaning in. “Guess I'll have to think of another way to stop you,” the lawyer whispers. And then he kisses the Daredevil.
After that, the Daredevil has the lawyer up against the wall, the file cabinets, against the water cooler, and even, in one dramatic move, over the man's own desk (files pushed off, desk lamp on the ground). Only one suit stays on the whole time. They make a mess of the office. By the end, they both get what they came for.
“Foggy,” Matt gasps, wanton, legs spread wide and waiting. “Did you? Did you get what you came for?”
Foggy puts the laptop aside, the fic still open on the screen. He places a hand on each of Matt's ankles. Matt shudders from the contact, deprived of the feel of Foggy's skin since they started the little personal reading. Foggy slides his hands up Matt's legs as he trembles beneath him.
“I haven't come yet, Matt, you know that,” Foggy leans down and licks a path up Matt's inner thigh. “You have, obviously.”
Matt's grip on the headboard is endangering the integrity of the wood. But he was told not to touch himself. He obeys.
“Mmm,” Foggy breathes against Matt's stomach, his hair swinging against his skin. “I love seeing you like this, all twitchy and desperate. Waiting for me. I bet you want to touch me, huh? I bet you can taste me in the air.”
Matt's mouth opens and closes before he gasps out, “I'd much rather taste you for real.”
“Mmm, naughty boy,” Foggy whispers, “I'm sure you would. But that pleasure's all mine tonight.” He takes Matt in his mouth.
Matt cries out Foggy's name. He crushes the headboard with a thunderous crack. A sharp pain as he gets a splinter but doesn't care because Foggy Foggy. Foggy pulls off much too soon.
“I could do that all day,” he groans. “But you broke my headboard.”
He gets up from the bed and Matt fucking whines. “Don't get me wrong, Matty, I do love when you beg me to suck you off. There's something just too wrong about a lawyer using his power to convince in the bedroom. Especially one as good as you. One as delicious as you.” As he talks, Foggy gathers their ties from the floor.
“But that was before you broke my headboard. I'm a poor lawyer. I need this bed for sexytimes and you fucking broke it. So it's time to return the favor. I think I'll spend a lot of time breaking you.”
Foggy starts tying Matt's wrists to the bedposts. After the first one, Matt goes still. Foggy's fingertips on his skin leave little burning marks and Matt imagines them lingering there long after they've left. He produces his other wrist obediently.
“Foggy, I'd like to plea bargain.” Matt tries to say in his court voice, but it comes out raspy and aroused.
“You have the floor, defendant.”
“I plead guilty for breaking your headboard and you fuck me until we break the rest of the bed.” Foggy gets on the bed. He kneels between Matt's legs and presses an already-lubed-up thumb behind Matt's cock. “Prosecutor accepts. I wanna hear how guilty you feel, Matt, when I'm fucking you incoherent.”