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Is that Daredevil or Matt talking?
The rustling of Foggy’s shirt, the buttons being undone: he could hear all of it, magnified. Matt leaned down and placed a trembling hand on Foggy’s bare stomach. He’s a man, Matt thought, but the flesh feels the same.
“I know you can’t see, Matt,” Foggy gasped. “But remember the look I get on my face when I'm terrified? Well, I'm making that face right now.”
Matt smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” His hand slid up further, to Foggy’s sparse patch of chest hair.
“Is that Daredevil or Matt talking?” Foggy asked.
“Both,” Matt said, and kissed him.