Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2018-12-04
Words:
1,153
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
17
Kudos:
844
Bookmarks:
60
Hits:
5,528

play the one that's on his heart

Summary:

"This is definitely law school era–the phrase 'mock trial sex bet' just occurred to me, and yeah, I think this is definitely that one. Matt and Foggy drunkenly make a bet that whichever one of them wins a mock trial gets a blowjob from the other, and refuse to back down from this bet when sober. Gee, wonder why?"

Notes:

idea (and summary) stolen from theladyragnell's post here :)

written very quickly to shamelessly shirk other responsibilities

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Yeah, sure,” Matt says, distracted and dry, accidentally more focused on the sound of the couple having very vocal sex down the hall than Foggy, whose ego gets bigger the drunker he gets. “If you beat me, I’ll blow you.” 

Foggy gets quiet and Matt catches up to his own words, mouth falling open. 

“I–I mean,” he says. He might’ve been influenced by the guy getting sucked off on the other end of the hall. He’s not sure what it says about them that they’re here drinking alone while everyone else is hooking up.

And that he just offered to blow Foggy, apparently.

“Deal,” Foggy says, surprisingly firm.

“…deal?” Matt echoes. 

“I win, you blow me,” Foggy says. 

“And if I win?”

“Uhm, I blow you, I guess,” Foggy says, more hesitant when he adds, “Deal?” 

The thing is that Matt’s drunk. And straight. And he still kind of wants to just get on his knees right now because it sounds interesting, because he’s never done it before, because he’s also heard what Foggy sounds like when he’s getting sucked off and it’s–

It’s.

Interesting.

“We can just forget it,” Foggy starts, because apparently Matt’s taken too long to imagine what it would be like to suck his best friend’s dick and has made this whole thing awkward, but Matt shakes his head.

“No,” he says, with all the confidence he can find inside himself. “Deal.”

*

Matt thinks about losing on purpose but he hates losing. And he’s not even sure why he’d want to lose, because winning would mean winning and also getting a blowjob that would be pretty amazing based on the things that Matt’s heard.  

He loses anyway, and he’s only a little upset about it because Foggy’s going to be an amazing lawyer and he’s his best friend and he’s proud. And–well, hearing him work doesn’t exactly make the idea of having Foggy’s dick in his mouth less appealing.

Which is new. 

Outside the classroom, they stand silently until Matt says, “Congratulations?” 

“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Thanks.” 

“Uhm,” Matt says, eloquently. 

“Uhm,” Foggy agrees. 

The following silence makes Matt contemplate jumping out a third floor window and scaling his way down to run away forever, but eventually the sound of Foggy shifting uncomfortably on his feet makes him says, “So, I think I owe you something.” 

“Oh my god,” Foggy says, laughing. “You really don’t have to.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Matt says, as calmly as he can, taking Foggy’s arm, tugging him gently toward the elevator. 

“You’re not even into guys, Matty,” Foggy says. “Are you?” 

All signs point to Matt being into Foggy, a feeling he hasn’t quite been able to name before faced with the possibility of having sex with him because he’s stupid and oblivious and–straight? But–Foggy’s a guy.

“Can’t hurt to try,” he says, shrugging.

Foggy laughs again, a little more desperately.

“You really don’t have to,” he repeats.

“Fog,” Matt says, leaning into him as the elevator doors close. “I want to.” 

“…oh,” Foggy says.

Matt spends the ten minute walk back to their door half-listening to Foggy talk about anything that isn’t what’s about to happen and strategically planning what’s about to happen. Foggy could be standing or on his back or sitting on the bed or his desk chair, maybe, and Matt–

Matt would be on his knees. His brain kind of falters there but it’s because the thought goes straight to his dick.

*

Matt doesn’t hesitate when the door shuts behind them, taking Foggy’s hand and leading him in, saying, “Sit in your desk chair, okay?” 

“Okay,” Foggy echoes, nervous laughter in his voice. 

Matt follows him after he sits, kneeling in front of him and steadying himself with his hands on Foggy’s knees. Foggy’s heart beats impossibly faster.

“Tell me if I should stop,” Matt says, smiling up at him before he turns his attention to unbuttoning Foggy’s jeans and pulling down his fly slowly, nerves kicking up at how clearly he can smell that Foggy’s turned on when he’s this close. It’s not abnormal, but usually it’s just part of the whole–now, though. It’s. Everything.

He takes a deep shaky breath before pulling at Foggy’s waistband, so Foggy sits up and lets him pull down his jeans and boxers down to his knees. 

“Oh, fuck,” Foggy breathes. “This is happening.” 

“A bet’s a bet,” Matt says. 

I think I want to kiss you, Matt thinks. He’s got business to attend to first, though.

Foggy moans before Matt even touches him, just from watching Matt lick his own palm, but it’s nothing compared to the noise that he makes when Matt wraps his fingers around him. And that’s blown out of the water by Foggy moaning his name when Matt takes him in his mouth. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing persay but he’s always been a quick learner, especially with things he enjoys. 

“God, Matty,” Foggy says, short of breath. “I–can I touch your hair?“

Matt pulls off, licking pre-come off his lips and laughing when Foggy lets out a soft string of swears.

“Of course,” he says, softly.

“I wanted to ask first,” Foggy says, running cautious fingers over Matt’s cheek, making him shiver. “Treat you like a lady.” 

“I’m not a lady,” Matt says.

“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Yeah, you’re–definitely not behaving like one.” 

“Shut up,” Matt says, laughing. “Just pull my hair.”

“…pull your–” 

“Or touch,” Matt says, quickly. “Whatever.” 

Both sound really nice. 

He goes back down until Foggy’s dick is pressing against the back of his throat, mouth stretched around it, and Foggy slides his fingers into Matt’s hair and tugs gently. Matt follows the pull of it and moans gratefully when Foggy sets the pace, cautiously, not pulling enough to hurt even though Matt wonders how it would feel.

“Buddy, I’m gonna come,” Foggy says, pulling Matt off of him with his fingers curled at his scalp. “Where should I–” 

“Uhm, in my mouth,” Matt says, finally letting a hand stray to rub over his own erection through his jeans. “I want to taste you.” 

“You’re killing me, Matty,” Foggy says, but it’s with this reverence that Matt’s never even heard in his voice before. It’s devout. 

Foggy calls him Matty in that voice again when he comes in his mouth, petting Matt’s hair when he swallows–not ideal but arguably worth it–and slowly pulls off to catch his breath. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“Wow is–accurate,” Foggy says. He sounds like he’s smiling. “Matty, could I maybe–I want to get you off, too. Do we have to make a bet first?” 

Matt grins and climbs into Foggy’s lap. Foggy’s hands come up to hold Matt’s waist and steady him. 

“Bet you won’t kiss me?” he offers, leaning in close. 

“You’re so bad at bets,” Foggy says, happily, closing the distance to win again.

Notes:

you can find me on tumblr unless they shut me down for writing about dicks too much, i guess?