coprime_recs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coprime_recs) wrote2023-10-22 09:43 pm
coprime_recs) wrote2023-10-22 09:43 pm
Entry tags:
Marvel Universe: Punch Drunk by The_buzz
Punch Drunk (Foggy/Matt | PG13 | 2,951 words): A concussed Matt forgets he and Foggy are currently estranged and goes to Foggy's apartment. This is an amazingly well done confession, reconciliation, and getting together all in one fic. It fits wonderfully into Soule's run, although I don't believe having read Soule's run is necessary to enjoy this.
Excerpt:
"Oh my god!"
Foggy's voice cut through the haze and Matt realized he was on his knees, the hallway still glitching oddly in his mental eye as his brain tried and failed to piece the input from his radar together. Nngh. He had to get up.
Hands on his shoulders. One gliding through his hair, because at some point his hood had come off, gliding over the golf ball-sized lump near his temple. Pizza wasn't Foggy's, thank God, but the smell was still wafting through the hallway. Matt's stomach churned again and it took all his concentration and willpower to not lose the contents of his stomach over Foggy's shoes. Hand on his cheek, a light caress that slid down the side of his neck to his back and rubbed a comforting circle over his spine.
"Matty, you gotta get up," Foggy murmured. "You're in the middle of the hallway. In my new apartment building. Come on."
Foggy hadn't been talking to him, before now. Matt considered this an improvement. Foggy had even busted out a "Matty." He tried to recall exactly when he'd decided to show up at Foggy's door but all he could remember was a cinder block flying toward his head and a solid blow.
Excerpt:
"Oh my god!"
Foggy's voice cut through the haze and Matt realized he was on his knees, the hallway still glitching oddly in his mental eye as his brain tried and failed to piece the input from his radar together. Nngh. He had to get up.
Hands on his shoulders. One gliding through his hair, because at some point his hood had come off, gliding over the golf ball-sized lump near his temple. Pizza wasn't Foggy's, thank God, but the smell was still wafting through the hallway. Matt's stomach churned again and it took all his concentration and willpower to not lose the contents of his stomach over Foggy's shoes. Hand on his cheek, a light caress that slid down the side of his neck to his back and rubbed a comforting circle over his spine.
"Matty, you gotta get up," Foggy murmured. "You're in the middle of the hallway. In my new apartment building. Come on."
Foggy hadn't been talking to him, before now. Matt considered this an improvement. Foggy had even busted out a "Matty." He tried to recall exactly when he'd decided to show up at Foggy's door but all he could remember was a cinder block flying toward his head and a solid blow.