[ there's no way that isn't on purpose, but it's not like the guy can fully tell, so it just leaves stephen scoffing in some mix of amusement and indignation. not that he has to clarify why. ]
Maybe I should. See if I can discover some heretofore unknown gift for narration.
[ maybe the rule of law gets to people, stephen reflects as he showers, gets dressed, makes his way to the elevators. the threat of a minimum quota and the way every interaction here is carefully charged, laden with its own set of rules—at some point most newcomers probably just give in eventually, let instinct take over. a minimum of song and dance, fewer concerns about bases.
or maybe matt murdock is just a reasonably attractive man and stephen is, if not weak, then opportunistic. he makes his way to matt's flat in due time and taps at the door buzzer, leans back from the doorway to let him answer. he has, in-hand, a bottle of hard apple cider. ]
[ Matt hadn't necessarily intended to have a housecall arranged. He just happens to like Stephen, but he's tuned-in enough to know when conversations take turns and become something else. He can be the first to admit that this is moderately out of character for him, but he's never really been in a city before where they brand people and casually force them to get laid.
He's in the midst of attempting some work when the buzzer goes. In a city without braille, it's nice that there's not really any paperwork to deal with, but the audio ets so dull. Stephen's arrival is more than welcome at this point. There's a smile on Matt's face when he opens the door. ]
[ he looks good, stephen reflects, and even in that split-second of greeting he seems to have the same mild good humor from when they first met. that's a good sign. he steps past him and glances around the flat, takes it all in, the odd and impersonal luxury. ]
That's too bad. I like interrupting something important. [ with a smile in his own voice, like he can't help being at least a little sardonic at all times. ] I brought cider. Back home it's that time of year ... here, though, I have no idea.
[ He follows Steven in, then detours towards the kitchen to find some glasses. At least in his own apartment, he doesn't need to put on too much of an act. It's reasonable enough that he'd know his way around by now.
Once he's felt out a couple of glasses that seem like they'll be reasonable, he sets them on the counter. ]
If you don't mind doing the honours? It was winter for me, not that I'll never say no to a good cider. Or to having someone here that's from home.
[ he trails after matt to the kitchen and moves to uncap the bottle, pouring out two glasses. ]
If you don't mind me saying so, based on our ... hour, maybe, of interaction, I've been thinking you're been taking all of this remarkably well. [ there's another smile in his voice, amused. ] Something about Hell's Kitchen prep you well for dystopia?
All things considered, as far as this place goes I think I got the good end of the deal. An apartment to myself, a job that's pretty much what I do back home, I have actual friends from my day to day life here - I'm not doing too bad. Anyway, I figure, not all problems can be solved by attacking them, right?
[ Wrong. Matt is out every night, without fail, punching people who may or may not deserve to be punched. It's the only way he knows how to cope with things. If Steven looks closely enough, Matt's knuckles are bruised, and there might be a hint of a bruised eye peeking out behind his glasses. ]
I'm not sure how useful I'd be to a revolution, anyway.
If they wanted you to enlist, and if you had an interest, I'm sure they could find some way to exercise your skillset.
[ stephen isn't actually that invested in the forms and dimensions of rebellion, in large part because he finds himself less and less concerned with the laws of man every day. he just knows that one of the newcomers who was particularly interested in insurgency would've wanted help from anyone capable, and he only knows that because he lives with him. ]
But I feel the same, frankly. If someone needs patching up I'm not sure I care whether they're chafing under the leash or not; I still have obligations. [ stephen slides a glass to him, taps the rim for a cue. ] —here you go. [ and then he leans against the counter, eying him openly. he does, after a fashion, catch the shadow of that black eye, it makes him frown— ] Speaking of needing patching up. [ he makes an aborted gesture to the side of matt's face, fingers with their slight tremor hovering near the side of his face. ] You get hit?
[ Of course Matt doesn't need Stephen to tap the glass, and he's more than aware that a hand is reaching towards him. He can almost feel the vague shaking in the fingers if he focuses hard enough.
He puts on a look of surprise. It's not really all that fake. Matt hadn't realized that anything was amiss, so he passes it off with an awkward sort of laugh. ]
Yeah. It's not - No one's going around hitting a blind guy. It was the fesitval. My dad was a boxer and I like to think I can throw a punch or two, I think everyone was just. Riled up. Guess it got a little out of hand.
[ That's not even really a lie, either. Matt's glad he can use Tumenalia as an excuse. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the counter, then makes the choice to tip his face towards Stephen's hand. ]
[ stephen bites back a scoff of disbelief as matt removes his glasses, leans towards his hand. figures, matt murdock is cute. stephen doesn't think that very often about very many people, because he's forty and cynical and "cute" hasn't really existed in his personal vernacular for ages. but stephen is also a believer in certain objective truths, so yeah, it's gonna have to be cute. how demeaning for them both. ]
Really? I'm flattered. I wish I could see the other guy.
[ Matt looks amused, and, well. They're here, aren't they? Doing this, dancing around the underlying reason why Stephen is here in the first place. Drinks? Sure. Friends catching up? Maybe that, too. But Matt's not a stranger to flirting, either. ]
[ his tone carefully neutral, even though he does, at last, rest a speculative hand on the side of matt's face. the scars stand out slightly against skin. ]
Inviting over a medical professional with nothing better to do than make house calls. [ said with wry amusement, and his voice a touch lower in the narrow space between them. ] But I suppose it's either that or funny business.
[ In moments like these, Matt is glad to have his blindness to fall back on. It gives him an excuse to be touchy, people understand that's how he "sees", but it also has a knack for making things a little more intimate. Matt's not shameless about using it to his advantage.
He reaches up his own hand to touch Stephen's. The scarring is glaringly obvious to him, and he's curious but not quite sure he should ask. So he lets his touch ghost over Stephen's hand before dropping if. ]
[ matter-of-fact, because stephen thinks it's true, even if he himself isn't much of a liar.
he lets another moment of silence stretch out between them, and then he shifts on his feet audibly, until they're nearly toe to toe. stephen doesn't go for the wounded puppy look, generally; but matt is just—a ridiculously good-looking person, shiner and bruised knuckles and all. he's been looking forward to seeing him again, he realizes. he doesn't think that too often nowadays, so he knows it must be the truth.
he leans in and touches his mouth to matt's, gentle at first, and then more firmly, licking at his mouth. testing the waters,. ]
[ Matt hums, because there's nothing quite like that moment of breathless anticipation and then the way it breaks at initial contact. He's all too happy to part his lips and invite Stephen in.
And since they're here now, and Matt doesn't really do much by halves, he steps back to lean against the counter. He pulls Stephen along with him, giving them some leverage to lean into things. Maybe giving himself an excuse, too, to let his hands roam over Stephen's arms, to start mapping out the man he's readily - and eagerly - invited into his home with hopes that this might happen. ]
[ it's easy to sway in with matt, to curve his foot beside matt's and lean him properly against the granite. one of his hands comes up, bracing on the countertop to better hem him in. the other touches down on matt's hip, thumb circling the surprisingly deep vee of muscle there, digging in with interest. and then that arm curves all the way around matt, bringing them flush against one another and still pressed back against the counter, stephen kissing him harder, that pretense of tentativeness draining away, that simmering heat in him starting to eke its way out with tongue and teeth. ]
[ This is very very good. Matt could do this for hours, but his body is telling him that there are more pressing urgencies to deal with. He shifts enough to test the friction of hip-against-hip. Not that Matt's super senses are needed to determine the growing level of arousal between them.
He pushes his hands up under Stephen's shirt, then trails his fingers down to edge along the waistband of Stephen's pants. Is it too eager? Matt doesn't really care. ]
[ he's half-hard already and not particularly ashamed about it. that's what a two-year functional dry spell and an inability to deal with emotional problems get you: the need to deal with matters physically and with urgency instead.
plus, he likes matt. actually likes him, to his chagrin, despite the fact that the things he knows about matt could probably fit in a roughly shoebox-sized container. matt is just ... disarming. inexplicably so. and stephen, slow to appreciate anyone's company, has never been easily charmed.
he huffs out a short laugh when he feels matt's fingers trail at the hem of his shirt. underneath he's all lean hard muscle, the suggestion of fitness maintained through hard work but not for vanity. both of his own hands, then, coming down onto matt's hips, pushing him back against the counter again in a slow inexorable grind. his cock is thick and easily delineated through his jeans, even at half-mast, the friction maddening, and the movement sinuous enough to suggest that stephen—as much as he appreciates a fancy condo—also wouldn't be averse to just, you know. fucking him here. ]
[ Would Matt complain if Stephen bent him over the counter? Probably not. It's becoming increasingly obvious to Matt how long it's been since he's gotten laid, and his over-sensitivity could become an embarrassing problem for him at this rate.
Whatever friction Stephen might feel, Matt feels tenfold. He sucks in a breath as it sends a jolt up his spine, but he's restrained enough to withhold any sound that might threaten to escape his lips. For now. What he needs is a moment for his body to adjust to the sudden stimulation. ]
Too many clothes. [ He manages to mutter it between heated kisses. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ idle curiosity. ]
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[ His head tilts a bit, and Matt passes his tongue over his lip again before smiling. ]
I need someone to come over and describe the one here so I can give you a better answer.
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Maybe I should. See if I can discover some heretofore unknown gift for narration.
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[ he's from someplace much more cornpone, actually, and it just barely shows. ]
Send me your address. I can be up sooner rather than later, if your afternoon's free.
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[ And Stephen will be getting the location of Matt's apartment, followed by the suite number. ]
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or maybe matt murdock is just a reasonably attractive man and stephen is, if not weak, then opportunistic. he makes his way to matt's flat in due time and taps at the door buzzer, leans back from the doorway to let him answer. he has, in-hand, a bottle of hard apple cider. ]
Special delivery.
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He's in the midst of attempting some work when the buzzer goes. In a city without braille, it's nice that there's not really any paperwork to deal with, but the audio ets so dull. Stephen's arrival is more than welcome at this point. There's a smile on Matt's face when he opens the door. ]
Good timing. Come in.
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[ he looks good, stephen reflects, and even in that split-second of greeting he seems to have the same mild good humor from when they first met. that's a good sign. he steps past him and glances around the flat, takes it all in, the odd and impersonal luxury. ]
That's too bad. I like interrupting something important. [ with a smile in his own voice, like he can't help being at least a little sardonic at all times. ] I brought cider. Back home it's that time of year ... here, though, I have no idea.
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[ He follows Steven in, then detours towards the kitchen to find some glasses. At least in his own apartment, he doesn't need to put on too much of an act. It's reasonable enough that he'd know his way around by now.
Once he's felt out a couple of glasses that seem like they'll be reasonable, he sets them on the counter. ]
If you don't mind doing the honours? It was winter for me, not that I'll never say no to a good cider. Or to having someone here that's from home.
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[ he trails after matt to the kitchen and moves to uncap the bottle, pouring out two glasses. ]
If you don't mind me saying so, based on our ... hour, maybe, of interaction, I've been thinking you're been taking all of this remarkably well. [ there's another smile in his voice, amused. ] Something about Hell's Kitchen prep you well for dystopia?
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All things considered, as far as this place goes I think I got the good end of the deal. An apartment to myself, a job that's pretty much what I do back home, I have actual friends from my day to day life here - I'm not doing too bad. Anyway, I figure, not all problems can be solved by attacking them, right?
[ Wrong. Matt is out every night, without fail, punching people who may or may not deserve to be punched. It's the only way he knows how to cope with things. If Steven looks closely enough, Matt's knuckles are bruised, and there might be a hint of a bruised eye peeking out behind his glasses. ]
I'm not sure how useful I'd be to a revolution, anyway.
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[ stephen isn't actually that invested in the forms and dimensions of rebellion, in large part because he finds himself less and less concerned with the laws of man every day. he just knows that one of the newcomers who was particularly interested in insurgency would've wanted help from anyone capable, and he only knows that because he lives with him. ]
But I feel the same, frankly. If someone needs patching up I'm not sure I care whether they're chafing under the leash or not; I still have obligations. [ stephen slides a glass to him, taps the rim for a cue. ] —here you go. [ and then he leans against the counter, eying him openly. he does, after a fashion, catch the shadow of that black eye, it makes him frown— ] Speaking of needing patching up. [ he makes an aborted gesture to the side of matt's face, fingers with their slight tremor hovering near the side of his face. ] You get hit?
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He puts on a look of surprise. It's not really all that fake. Matt hadn't realized that anything was amiss, so he passes it off with an awkward sort of laugh. ]
Yeah. It's not - No one's going around hitting a blind guy. It was the fesitval. My dad was a boxer and I like to think I can throw a punch or two, I think everyone was just. Riled up. Guess it got a little out of hand.
[ That's not even really a lie, either. Matt's glad he can use Tumenalia as an excuse. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the counter, then makes the choice to tip his face towards Stephen's hand. ]
How's it look, doctor?
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Best shiner I've ever seen, personally.
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[ Matt looks amused, and, well. They're here, aren't they? Doing this, dancing around the underlying reason why Stephen is here in the first place. Drinks? Sure. Friends catching up? Maybe that, too. But Matt's not a stranger to flirting, either. ]
Is there anything I should do for it?
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[ his tone carefully neutral, even though he does, at last, rest a speculative hand on the side of matt's face. the scars stand out slightly against skin. ]
Inviting over a medical professional with nothing better to do than make house calls. [ said with wry amusement, and his voice a touch lower in the narrow space between them. ] But I suppose it's either that or funny business.
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[ In moments like these, Matt is glad to have his blindness to fall back on. It gives him an excuse to be touchy, people understand that's how he "sees", but it also has a knack for making things a little more intimate. Matt's not shameless about using it to his advantage.
He reaches up his own hand to touch Stephen's. The scarring is glaringly obvious to him, and he's curious but not quite sure he should ask. So he lets his touch ghost over Stephen's hand before dropping if. ]
You're going to make a liar out of me.
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[ matter-of-fact, because stephen thinks it's true, even if he himself isn't much of a liar.
he lets another moment of silence stretch out between them, and then he shifts on his feet audibly, until they're nearly toe to toe. stephen doesn't go for the wounded puppy look, generally; but matt is just—a ridiculously good-looking person, shiner and bruised knuckles and all. he's been looking forward to seeing him again, he realizes. he doesn't think that too often nowadays, so he knows it must be the truth.
he leans in and touches his mouth to matt's, gentle at first, and then more firmly, licking at his mouth. testing the waters,. ]
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And since they're here now, and Matt doesn't really do much by halves, he steps back to lean against the counter. He pulls Stephen along with him, giving them some leverage to lean into things. Maybe giving himself an excuse, too, to let his hands roam over Stephen's arms, to start mapping out the man he's readily - and eagerly - invited into his home with hopes that this might happen. ]
wrong account lolol
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He pushes his hands up under Stephen's shirt, then trails his fingers down to edge along the waistband of Stephen's pants. Is it too eager? Matt doesn't really care. ]
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plus, he likes matt. actually likes him, to his chagrin, despite the fact that the things he knows about matt could probably fit in a roughly shoebox-sized container. matt is just ... disarming. inexplicably so. and stephen, slow to appreciate anyone's company, has never been easily charmed.
he huffs out a short laugh when he feels matt's fingers trail at the hem of his shirt. underneath he's all lean hard muscle, the suggestion of fitness maintained through hard work but not for vanity. both of his own hands, then, coming down onto matt's hips, pushing him back against the counter again in a slow inexorable grind. his cock is thick and easily delineated through his jeans, even at half-mast, the friction maddening, and the movement sinuous enough to suggest that stephen—as much as he appreciates a fancy condo—also wouldn't be averse to just, you know. fucking him here. ]
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Whatever friction Stephen might feel, Matt feels tenfold. He sucks in a breath as it sends a jolt up his spine, but he's restrained enough to withhold any sound that might threaten to escape his lips. For now. What he needs is a moment for his body to adjust to the sudden stimulation. ]
Too many clothes. [ He manages to mutter it between heated kisses. ]
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