Hayfever. Haaaayfeevurrr. [Yeah. Drunk Matt is A+ classy Matt. When he's done slurring the word, warm breath against her ear, he goes back to nipping at and licking the side of her neck, brushing his bottom lip gently over her reddened skin. She's giving him mixed messages about what was happening, which eventually became too confusing for him to know whether he should stop or keep going.] Lots of flowers, y'know? [He pulled away a bit and licked his lips, giving her a stupid lopsided grin.] Let's go to your place. Do you have SoCo?
[It's possible she is giving him mixed messages. Her unconscious reactions are saying this is a fun thing, A+, good job Matty, but the way she pushes him further away when he backs away is clearly the overriding message here.]
I have water. And aspirin. [And confusion, lots of confusion. She's not sure if he's just... so drunk that he's running on autopilot and doesn't really realize he's with Foggy and not a random bar hottie, or if this is something she's going to have to deal with when they're both sober.]
S'not SoCo. [And yet he'll go along with her anyway, deciding it was better to half-cling to her than stumble around and break his face on the asphalt. She saved him from the slugs after all, and where else was he going to go on his own?]
It's better than SoCo because it makes you feel better in the morning instead of worse. [Now that he's, uh, done kissing her neck and making confusing comments about what she smells like, she starts moving them in the direction of her apartment again, doing her best to keep him upright and not tripping over anything he's probably too drunk to sense with any precision.]
I want to feel better. [The reasoning behind most decisions to hit the bottle, hit the jackpot machine, hit another warm body, he suspected. He's much better with moving, noisy objects, but static lumpy things on the road like garbage bags when the wind was completely still was a bit of a challenge.] You make me feel better, Foggy.
[How do you even answer that? With a sigh and a little sort-of-hug squeeze with the arm that is helping to keep him upright, apparently, because she can't think of much to actually say that isn't kind of emotionally compromising and/or too complicated for drunk Matt.]
I know I- I should've called yooouu. First. And I d- well I wanted to. I wasn't sure because you know new job new hair new you new shampoo new Foggy and ooold Matt with all same old lies dealing with the same old shit Father's sick of hearing about Matt throwing punches losing cases can't- bury the devil in one night standssshhsuh. So IIiiii asked Siri and she didn't really wasn't really not much helpfulness at all sooo I didn't call. I'm shorry I didn't call. [His back collided loudly against the glass door at the entrance to her apartment building.] I'm sorry. M'sssorry...
Matty... [She's having that same problem as before with knowing what to say. He said she makes him feel better but she doesn't know how to make this better, not really. If she did, they probably wouldn't have broken up the firm and they'd still be Nelson and Murdock together instead of Nelson and Murdock apart.
She's not wearing heels right now, so she has to go up on tiptoe a little to press a kiss to his forehead.] It's okay.
[He flashed her a small, tight-lipped smile at the feeling of the brush of her lips on his skin. Cool to the touch, warm beneath the surface. This is the kind of absolution he'd always wanted but didn't think he deserved to have. There was a lot he was hiding behind that smile, behind those red round glasses, behind the good lawyer/awkward blind man facade. She was helping him through some rough shit, more than she might ever realise.
He moved off from leaning against the glass and clutched onto her forearm again so he wouldn't fall straight into the corridor when she buzzed them in.] Thanks. Thanksssfoggee.
[She lets out a vague humming noise that probably means 'you're welcome' before steering him into the building. It's way nicer than her old apartment building - which isn't difficult, admittedly. The functioning elevator alone puts it way over the top, and he can admire that elevator up close and in-person when she moves them into it. She's only one flight of stairs up, but she's pretty sure he'll end up killing himself and/or her if he tries to take stairs right now.]
[The lift throws him offbalance a bit. Had him clutching onto the handrail in that brief moment of panic-confusion-terror like the first time a landing plane skids across the tarmac. And then he was fine. He couldn't resist pressing a couple of other buttons before she managed to drag him out, sending the elevator up to random floors.]
Peanutsssuh... beer... cat... many cat- old cat lady... patchouli cat... SOCO! He has SoCo. Can we ask for his SoCo? [Matt is twisting her neighbour's doorknob and seems outraged that the door is locked.]
No! [Oh god, nope. Foggy pulls him away from her poor neighbor's door as best she can considering he's drunk and way stronger than she is and herds him along to her apartment.] Water, Matt. Remember? Water that will make you feel better?
[He stumbles away reluctantly from the door and nods dejectedly. Water sounds SO MUCH LESS EXCITING than SoCo. He's not particularly happy about it. But he's also used to the self-imposed torment, eternal suffering, going without, can't have anything nice, and all these other ideas that he's supposed to embrace so he'll settle for less without putting up much of a fight.]
Water. [Doesn't stop him from pouting, but at least he's not trying to break down anyone's door.] OK water. Water and ass- ass...purring.
Right. Ass-purring. [She is clearly trying not to laugh right now - she can't help it, honestly. He's just starting to remind her of a sad puppy again. An oversized sad puppy who can totally kick pretty much anyone's ass.] C'mon. [Her apartment is only a few doors down. She has to let go of him temporarily (and pray he doesn't get into trouble) so that she can dig her keys out of her pocket and let them in.
It is a nicer apartment. There's an actual designated living room area with a couch and a coffee table instead of basically a bedroom with a chair shoved into it, and a kitchen. There's room to breathe. And some abandoned files on that coffee table cause gotta earn the money for her nice new apartment.
She heads immediately to the kitchen to get him that water.]
[She can't really blame Siri for some of the messages he ended up sending. Poor robotlady was trying her best, but she would have thought he said 'ass purring' too.]
Why's the light on? [He's muttering something else to himself as he unhelpfully turns her living room light off when he stumbles inside. But she's already in the kitchen so it's not like she needs it.]
S'a nice place. [He walks into the kitchen counter and knocks the wind out of his stomach, but he tries to play it cool the way men tried to play these things cool. Which was to say not very gracefully, when he sank his ass down onto a stool and let out a shaky breath.] Like you always wanted. Lawyer. Helping people. Bit'a money on the side... [He grabs her fruit basket and tugs it over closer towards him, ducking his head closer so he could sniff one of her apples.] I'm... [Don't get distracted by the apple, Matt. Is that a banana?] ...happy for you.
yes Matt. stop getting distracted by Foggy's ~*~apples~*~
Thanks, Matt. [After a moment's thought, she grabs him a water bottle and opens it for him instead of a glass. Because maybe he's less likely to spill the water bottle, and even if he does, at least she wouldn't have a broken cup to deal with.] It's nice to have an apartment with reliable hot water.
[She sets the water bottle down near his hand so that it brushes against his hand, because she's not sure she trusts his spacial awareness enough for him to not just knock it over accidentally before he even tries to drink from it.] There was something to be said for being paid in casseroles and goodwill, though.
[He grasps the bottle and doesn't make a mess just yet. He even has the sense to unscrew the lid and keep it in his hand so he doesn't put it down and promptly lose it somewhere in the blackness. Yeah, this is definitely worse than SoCo, but at least it doesn't taste like it has the weird floaty things that tap water does.] Do you miss it? You can come back you know. We can- we can start over. [He takes another gulp of water as if he needs it for the liquid courage.]
I'll be good this time. I'll lock everything up and throw away the key. Or yyyou can have the key. I won't go out anymore. We can go back to how it was. We could- we could be friends.
Foggy sighs and sits down. Takes a breath.] Yeah, I miss it. But we can't - we can't go back to how it used to be. Too much happened. You... [She stops. It won't help much to say you hurt me right now, however true it is.] We both made choices.
[She's quiet for a second.] --That doesn't mean we can't be friends.
Why not?! [The plastic water bottle gets deformed as he squeezes his hand involuntarily and crushes it a little bit. Some of the water spills out and he pulls his hand away as if he's been burnt. The man his father never wanted him to be surges uncomfortably beneath his skin like an anaconda waiting to strike. There's a sudden moment of realisation that dawns upon him after he snaps and it's not clear for a moment with the way his facial expression started morphing from shock to something else whether the pain or the guilt would win out.]
M'sorry. I shouldn't- you- I- I should go. [He almost trips over himself trying to reverse clumsily out of her seat and bumps noisily into the back of her couch.]
[She's - startled, for a second, but all he does is snap a little and squeeze a water bottle, it's not a big deal. If anything's a real problem here, it's the fact that he's trying to have this conversation while he's drunk and it's not - it's not fair to her, him poking clumsily at all these scabs in their shared past. If they want to have a relationship, then there's thing she wants to say to him, things she needs to say to him, that won't do any good right now because he's too fucking out of it to understand.
--But at the end of the day, she still cares about him and he is too out of it to have wandering around Hell's Kitchen on his own.] Matt. Don't go.
and then when she tries to talk to him sober - “nah it’s k I don’t wanna talk about it bro”
[The floor rushes up to meet his ass as he slides down the back of the couch and sits down, rubbing the carpet like something is supposed to be there or he’s not sure the ground is flat. He uncurls his other hand and plucks the bottlecap out of it, turning it over gingerly between his hands like a Rubik’s cube or one of those fidget desk toys. For a precious few seconds he probably comes across as more autistic than drunk, sitting there silently in the dark feeling all the ridges on the plastic round thing he’s occupying his hands with. At least until he starts talking again - not that the words that come out are particularly coherent. But at least the keywords are there.] It’s cold outside. M’staying. My roommate Foggy. Like old times! Roomie... we used to be... mmmI liked Foggy.
ok but consider this: "we're fucking talking about this, Matt, I don't care."
[She sighs, sounding very tired all of the sudden.] I know, Matty. I make you feel better, and I smell like hayfever. [She grabs a towel to quickly dry off the counter. The bottle's still plenty full, so after straightening it out a little so it's not deformed where he squeezed it, she brings it over to him.] Drink your water.
I'm reminded of the scene where Foggy tells Karen he has a drinking problem
[He stayed sitting on her floor and drank his water obediently. He's given her enough headaches tonight and neither of them would probably mind him taking a piss and passing out in her bathroom until the warmth of the morning woke him up.] ...am I in trouble?
[The answer's too complicated, and if she says no, he'll probably hear a lie in her heartbeat or something, so instead she repeats herself:] Just drink your water. Please.
[In the meantime, she's going to disappear into her bedroom for a minute to retrieve a soft fleece throw that she drops onto the couch for him to use whenever he gets around to trying to sleep.]
[Well it definitely felt like he was in trouble. He stroked one of the dents in the water bottle with a guilty look on his face, half-wondering if it was because of his mini-meltdown or if he'd done something else. Maybe she'd tell him once he finished his water. But he'd likely need to go to the bathroom before he got to the bottom of of the bottle. He listened to her footsteps getting softer and louder as she moved around her place. Even though lots of things have changed, the sound of her footsteps were a constant pitter-patter of footfalls that he could pick out in a crowd.
He tilted his head back when she came back to her couch and hovered close to him. He looked confused for a moment, and then his eyes widened and narrowed when it clicked.] ...shirt thiefff.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clearly, he doesn't XD
oh god. /facepalm
I have water. And aspirin. [And confusion, lots of confusion. She's not sure if he's just... so drunk that he's running on autopilot and doesn't really realize he's with Foggy and not a random bar hottie, or if this is something she's going to have to deal with when they're both sober.]
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stop hurting my heart, Matt
--We'll be at my place soon.
he can't - here have some more
this is Fine /lies on the ground
She's not wearing heels right now, so she has to go up on tiptoe a little to press a kiss to his forehead.] It's okay.
try not to cry... cry a lot? XD
He moved off from leaning against the glass and clutched onto her forearm again so he wouldn't fall straight into the corridor when she buzzed them in.] Thanks. Thanksssfoggee.
exactly
...It's okay to call me. If there's a next time.
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Peanutsssuh... beer... cat... many cat- old cat lady... patchouli cat... SOCO! He has SoCo. Can we ask for his SoCo? [Matt is twisting her neighbour's doorknob and seems outraged that the door is locked.]
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Water. [Doesn't stop him from pouting, but at least he's not trying to break down anyone's door.] OK water. Water and ass- ass...purring.
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It is a nicer apartment. There's an actual designated living room area with a couch and a coffee table instead of basically a bedroom with a chair shoved into it, and a kitchen. There's room to breathe. And some abandoned files on that coffee table cause gotta earn the money for her nice new apartment.
She heads immediately to the kitchen to get him that water.]
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Why's the light on? [He's muttering something else to himself as he unhelpfully turns her living room light off when he stumbles inside. But she's already in the kitchen so it's not like she needs it.]
S'a nice place. [He walks into the kitchen counter and knocks the wind out of his stomach, but he tries to play it cool the way men tried to play these things cool. Which was to say not very gracefully, when he sank his ass down onto a stool and let out a shaky breath.] Like you always wanted. Lawyer. Helping people. Bit'a money on the side... [He grabs her fruit basket and tugs it over closer towards him, ducking his head closer so he could sniff one of her apples.] I'm... [Don't get distracted by the apple, Matt. Is that a banana?] ...happy for you.
yes Matt. stop getting distracted by Foggy's ~*~apples~*~
[She sets the water bottle down near his hand so that it brushes against his hand, because she's not sure she trusts his spacial awareness enough for him to not just knock it over accidentally before he even tries to drink from it.] There was something to be said for being paid in casseroles and goodwill, though.
there's even a banana
I'll be good this time. I'll lock everything up and throw away the key. Or yyyou can have the key. I won't go out anymore. We can go back to how it was. We could- we could be friends.
i'm sure there is
Foggy sighs and sits down. Takes a breath.] Yeah, I miss it. But we can't - we can't go back to how it used to be. Too much happened. You... [She stops. It won't help much to say you hurt me right now, however true it is.] We both made choices.
[She's quiet for a second.] --That doesn't mean we can't be friends.
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M'sorry. I shouldn't- you- I- I should go. [He almost trips over himself trying to reverse clumsily out of her seat and bumps noisily into the back of her couch.]
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--But at the end of the day, she still cares about him and he is too out of it to have wandering around Hell's Kitchen on his own.] Matt. Don't go.
and then when she tries to talk to him sober - “nah it’s k I don’t wanna talk about it bro”
ok but consider this: "we're fucking talking about this, Matt, I don't care."
I'm reminded of the scene where Foggy tells Karen he has a drinking problem
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[In the meantime, she's going to disappear into her bedroom for a minute to retrieve a soft fleece throw that she drops onto the couch for him to use whenever he gets around to trying to sleep.]
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He tilted his head back when she came back to her couch and hovered close to him. He looked confused for a moment, and then his eyes widened and narrowed when it clicked.] ...shirt thiefff.
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