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coprime_writes) wrote2025-10-21 06:33 pm
coprime_writes) wrote2025-10-21 06:33 pm
Entry tags:
Daredevil (TV): Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Foggy, Matt)
Title: Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Author:coprime
Fandom: Daredevil
Characters: Foggy Nelson, Matt Murdock
Rating / Word Count: G / 2,060 words
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Daredevil belongs to Netflix, Marvel, and/or Disney.
Summary: Foggy misses the days when he used to spend winter curled around Matt, but Matt doesn't ask him to stay anymore.
Notes: For the Avocado server's No Prompt Left Behind challenge, based on![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p2.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
42donotpanic's prompt for a werewolf!Foggy keeping a vampire!Matt warm on cold nights.
Please right click and choose "Save As".
Length: 13:43
~Cold Hands, Warm Heart~
It shouldn't have worked, a vampire and a werewolf.
Vampires and werewolves didn't mix. Except for a mistake in Columbia's Residential Services, they would have kept far away from each other. But the mistake was serendipity at work because they'd become fast friends, bridging the gap between the species.
Matt wasn't cold, wasn't heartless, like Foggy's family tutted when he talked about his roommate to them. Matt had passion: he wanted justice for everyone, for every person to find the fairest way forward when their day (or night) in court arrived. His undead body may have been cold and his heart unbeating, but Matt wasn't.
The congregation of Clinton Church, long a vampire hamlet within the larger city, had held their noses up at Foggy the one time he'd attended with Matt. Some of them literally, pinching their noses shut so they didn't have to smell the wet dog (it had been raining that evening) in their midst. Foggy's hearing wasn't as good as Matt's, and at the time he hadn't realized that wasn't a vampire thing, but it had been a relief when the service wrapped up and people began filing out into the night.
At least Father Lantom had been pleased to meet Foggy when Matt had introduced them.
It hadn't always been easy learning how to cohabitate—Foggy's shed fur had necessitated multiple rounds of negotiation to find a balance of reasonable accommodations for both sides—however they'd fought things out because their friendship mattered more than any argument between them. And maybe also a little because they'd wanted to prove their naysayers wrong, that their similarities were more important than their differences.
Winters were tough for Matt. Heat leached out of his body almost immediately, lost to frigid temperatures. Jack Frost tweaked at Matt's nose as well as fingers and toes and every bit of flesh in between. Sweaters and woolen socks did nothing to help when the body they were wrapped around didn't produce any warmth for them to trap.
Their first year of law school, once the day consisted of more night than day, Matt was left shivering every time he ate. Refrigerated blood bags sapped what little warmth Foggy's roommate managed to accumulate as he sat with his back against their clunky radiator, and Foggy spent a month convincing Matt to switch to live donors. At least for the season, at least when the ambient air temperature was below freezing.
Their second year, winter hit and Foggy took to spending as much time as he could as a wolf. He was about the same size in either form, wolf or man, though the wolf looked bigger thanks to his thick fur. He curled around Matt, half-listening to what he could hear from Matt's headphones as Matt studied and half-dozing as Matt kept one hand buried in his extra fluffy, extra thick winter coat. Their room was warm, Foggy bumping up the temperature for Matt, and Matt was refreshingly cool to nap on. It wasn't the most efficient way for either of them to study, but it was comfortable.
At some point, the nights with a wolfy Foggy wrapped around a chilly Matt stopped. They weren't living together anymore, and Matt no longer asked Foggy over for evenings of furry warmth. It had been a slow petering out, like as happened when life got busy and making space for previously everyday joys became something that needed to be scheduled in advance.
But when Foggy had found the masked man who'd been terrorizing their neighborhood passed out on his best friend's apartment floor, sluggish, black blood seeping from the man's wounds, he'd been forced to contend with the reality that the distance that had grown between them had been Matt's choice. It wasn't life in general that had gotten in the way, but Matt's in specific, prioritizing going out at night to work out his anger by working over criminals as more important than Foggy.
Even after talking things out and trying to move forward, Foggy thought they might end up forever stuck in the holding pattern they'd fallen into. Nelson & Murdock were a team but not one that could operate smoothly anymore, too caught up in an impasse of their own doing to make any progress. He longed for the simpler days of college, when nothing could break them, even as he recognized that there was no way to return to those green times.
Then a cold snap hit the city, plunging the temperatures to sub-zero overnight, and Foggy had to miserably watch Matt attempt to tough it out in the office. Karen fought for the last, tiny space heater at the hardware store even though she, as a reaper, had no use for it and plopped it on the floor next to Matt, glaring at him as she plugged it in.
"I refuse to take any lost souls home with me tonight, Matt," she chided. "I can't believe you don't have any better way to deal with the cold than stubborning your way through."
Matt gave her a wan smile and thanked her, assured her he had electric blankets at home and had made it through winters before just fine. But the easiest winters had had Foggy, a fact which Foggy recalled and Matt chose not to share.
She left at a reasonable time—while the sun was still up and the ghosts of the city were less likely to be drawn to her—unlike Matt and Foggy, who stayed late debating opening statements for their few cases likely to go to trial. Foggy could always tell when the sun set because Matt perked up as soon as that last sliver sunk below the horizon, and tonight was no different. Unfortunately, perking up mostly meant an increase in the vibrancy of Matt's shivers, even with the space heater pointed at his legs.
Matt was soldiering through them though, and Foggy didn't want to bring up the past if he were the only one missing those winter nights curled up together.
Eventually, they finished for the evening, packed up their belongings, and headed out. As he locked the office door, Foggy asked if Matt had plans to go out again. Matt cocked his head, listening, then shook it. The cold had driven even the criminals inside, it seemed.
On the sidewalk, Matt turned to head his way. Cold air flowed its way around Foggy, sneaking in under his collar, refreshing after the heat of their office. But Matt hunched his shoulders up, hiding as much of his face as he could behind his scarf where the frosty air couldn't nip at him as easily. Foggy watched him go, caught in his melancholia, when Matt stopped and called his name in question.
"Foggy? Something the m-matter?" His teeth chattered more the longer he spoke. "I'd pref-fer not to spend more t-time in the c-cold than I have to."
Foggy's brain caught up with the moment, and his feet caught up with his brain as he jogged the short distance to Matt.
"Nothing's the matter. Just, let me walk you home." He offered his arm, nudging Matt, and Matt tucked his hand in the crook of Foggy's elbow. The touch was icy, even through the layers of shirt and coat. Foggy folded his hand over Matt's awkwardly, and they set off.
Foggy could try to keep at least this one, small part of Matt warm.
By the time they reached his building, Matt was pressed up to Foggy's side. It was counterproductive for guiding and slowed them down, but if Foggy's tail were out, it'd be wagging. He wanted to nuzzle into Matt's hair, mix their scents more thoroughly, but refrained. Not unless Matt asked. Things weren't how they used to be anymore, and for all those days had been easier, the Matt he knew now was the truer Matt. Foggy was happy to be allowed to give Matt this much.
Matt unlocked his building's entryway door, and a rush of warmer air enveloped them. Matt stood straighter.
Foggy said, "I suppose this is good night—" just as Matt asked, "Would you like to join me for the night? To sleep, like we used to."
"Of—of course. I'd love to," he confessed. A breeze blew, ruffling his hair, and Foggy was instantly aware they were having this conversation on Matt's stoop in the open air when they could be having it indoors with its modern heating abilities. "Why are we talking about this out here? In, in, in," he urged as he propelled him and Matt forward.
The conversation wouldn't continue until they were safely inside, together in Matt's bed, ensconced in their own bubble of a world that ended at the corners of Matt's comforters.
Foggy stripped down as Matt changed into sleep pants, and when he shifted, his wolf came to the forefront easily. Emotions were more readily expressed while furred, and Foggy found himself nosing at Matt, urging him to hurry up and drink his dinner so they could go to bed.
Matt chuckled and patted his head, but Foggy was serious. Matt's apartment was warm, but not enough to offset the chill soaked into Matt, and the refrigerated blood didn't help either.
Finally—finally—they retired to Matt's bedroom, and Foggy wasted no time stretching out and draping himself over as much of Matt as he could. Matt pulled up his three comforters and tucked them around the pair of them, turning Foggy into a very large bed warmer. As much as Foggy tried to maximize their contact, Matt met his efforts. He sunk his hands into Foggy's fur and hugged Foggy close.
Before long, between the blood and Foggy, life came back to Matt. His face flushed, his lips lost their thin look, and cuddling him no longer felt like laying on a very tall cube of dry ice. Matt would never be as warm as Foggy, their biologies precluded it, but right now like this he was the perfect amount of refreshing cool for Foggy, who'd be overheating under these covers otherwise.
Then again, Foggy wouldn't be here if not for Matt. But the fact that this was were Matt was made this, in Foggy's mind, the perfect spot to be.
Now that he wasn't as deathly chilled, Matt loosened his hold on Foggy and tried to roll away, but Foggy refused to let him move. He couldn't talk, but he didn't have to when he could simply follow Matt across the mattress and press in close again. Matt didn't try to give him space a second time, and they settled into cozy contentment. Foggy's eyes drifted shut.
"I was afraid, you know," Matt whispered into the quiet between them. "I was afraid you'd leave before I could ask you to stay. That's why I had to ask while we were still outside."
Foggy gave Matt's chin a little lick, and Matt's arms tightened around Foggy. Matt's heart beat from his dinner—sluggishly, so much slower than Foggy's, but strong—and Foggy laid his head over it. He was close enough to nose at Matt's jaw, so he did.
I'm here, he tried to say. I'm here. All you had to do was ask. I didn't know you wanted me here.
They fell asleep like that, and sometime during the night, Foggy shifted back. Shifts came easier when relaxed, and it would have been hard for him to be any more at peace with his place in the world—under the covers with Matt, the two of them all the world he needed.
"Foggy?" Matt asked, sleepy and sweet.
Foggy could turn over, draw himself away from Matt to begin the process of separating them for the day ahead—it was an option—but the desire to stay where he was won. Let the day be put off just a little longer.
Foggy lifted his head and stretched to kiss Matt's cheek, Matt's perpetual dusting of stubble rasping against his lips. He put a hand on Matt's chest to steady himself, palm unerringly over where Matt's heart lay—no longer pumping, not this long after Matt's last meal, but still the center of Foggy's affections.
Matt smiled.
No, no one thought a vampire and a werewolf could work together. But Foggy knew, and so did Matt: they worked perfectly.
Author:
coprimeFandom: Daredevil
Characters: Foggy Nelson, Matt Murdock
Rating / Word Count: G / 2,060 words
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Daredevil belongs to Netflix, Marvel, and/or Disney.
Summary: Foggy misses the days when he used to spend winter curled around Matt, but Matt doesn't ask him to stay anymore.
Notes: For the Avocado server's No Prompt Left Behind challenge, based on
Click here for podfic version.
Download: MP3 (13.2MB) | (Alternate DL)Please right click and choose "Save As".
Length: 13:43
~Cold Hands, Warm Heart~
It shouldn't have worked, a vampire and a werewolf.
Vampires and werewolves didn't mix. Except for a mistake in Columbia's Residential Services, they would have kept far away from each other. But the mistake was serendipity at work because they'd become fast friends, bridging the gap between the species.
Matt wasn't cold, wasn't heartless, like Foggy's family tutted when he talked about his roommate to them. Matt had passion: he wanted justice for everyone, for every person to find the fairest way forward when their day (or night) in court arrived. His undead body may have been cold and his heart unbeating, but Matt wasn't.
The congregation of Clinton Church, long a vampire hamlet within the larger city, had held their noses up at Foggy the one time he'd attended with Matt. Some of them literally, pinching their noses shut so they didn't have to smell the wet dog (it had been raining that evening) in their midst. Foggy's hearing wasn't as good as Matt's, and at the time he hadn't realized that wasn't a vampire thing, but it had been a relief when the service wrapped up and people began filing out into the night.
At least Father Lantom had been pleased to meet Foggy when Matt had introduced them.
It hadn't always been easy learning how to cohabitate—Foggy's shed fur had necessitated multiple rounds of negotiation to find a balance of reasonable accommodations for both sides—however they'd fought things out because their friendship mattered more than any argument between them. And maybe also a little because they'd wanted to prove their naysayers wrong, that their similarities were more important than their differences.
Winters were tough for Matt. Heat leached out of his body almost immediately, lost to frigid temperatures. Jack Frost tweaked at Matt's nose as well as fingers and toes and every bit of flesh in between. Sweaters and woolen socks did nothing to help when the body they were wrapped around didn't produce any warmth for them to trap.
Their first year of law school, once the day consisted of more night than day, Matt was left shivering every time he ate. Refrigerated blood bags sapped what little warmth Foggy's roommate managed to accumulate as he sat with his back against their clunky radiator, and Foggy spent a month convincing Matt to switch to live donors. At least for the season, at least when the ambient air temperature was below freezing.
Their second year, winter hit and Foggy took to spending as much time as he could as a wolf. He was about the same size in either form, wolf or man, though the wolf looked bigger thanks to his thick fur. He curled around Matt, half-listening to what he could hear from Matt's headphones as Matt studied and half-dozing as Matt kept one hand buried in his extra fluffy, extra thick winter coat. Their room was warm, Foggy bumping up the temperature for Matt, and Matt was refreshingly cool to nap on. It wasn't the most efficient way for either of them to study, but it was comfortable.
At some point, the nights with a wolfy Foggy wrapped around a chilly Matt stopped. They weren't living together anymore, and Matt no longer asked Foggy over for evenings of furry warmth. It had been a slow petering out, like as happened when life got busy and making space for previously everyday joys became something that needed to be scheduled in advance.
But when Foggy had found the masked man who'd been terrorizing their neighborhood passed out on his best friend's apartment floor, sluggish, black blood seeping from the man's wounds, he'd been forced to contend with the reality that the distance that had grown between them had been Matt's choice. It wasn't life in general that had gotten in the way, but Matt's in specific, prioritizing going out at night to work out his anger by working over criminals as more important than Foggy.
Even after talking things out and trying to move forward, Foggy thought they might end up forever stuck in the holding pattern they'd fallen into. Nelson & Murdock were a team but not one that could operate smoothly anymore, too caught up in an impasse of their own doing to make any progress. He longed for the simpler days of college, when nothing could break them, even as he recognized that there was no way to return to those green times.
Then a cold snap hit the city, plunging the temperatures to sub-zero overnight, and Foggy had to miserably watch Matt attempt to tough it out in the office. Karen fought for the last, tiny space heater at the hardware store even though she, as a reaper, had no use for it and plopped it on the floor next to Matt, glaring at him as she plugged it in.
"I refuse to take any lost souls home with me tonight, Matt," she chided. "I can't believe you don't have any better way to deal with the cold than stubborning your way through."
Matt gave her a wan smile and thanked her, assured her he had electric blankets at home and had made it through winters before just fine. But the easiest winters had had Foggy, a fact which Foggy recalled and Matt chose not to share.
She left at a reasonable time—while the sun was still up and the ghosts of the city were less likely to be drawn to her—unlike Matt and Foggy, who stayed late debating opening statements for their few cases likely to go to trial. Foggy could always tell when the sun set because Matt perked up as soon as that last sliver sunk below the horizon, and tonight was no different. Unfortunately, perking up mostly meant an increase in the vibrancy of Matt's shivers, even with the space heater pointed at his legs.
Matt was soldiering through them though, and Foggy didn't want to bring up the past if he were the only one missing those winter nights curled up together.
Eventually, they finished for the evening, packed up their belongings, and headed out. As he locked the office door, Foggy asked if Matt had plans to go out again. Matt cocked his head, listening, then shook it. The cold had driven even the criminals inside, it seemed.
On the sidewalk, Matt turned to head his way. Cold air flowed its way around Foggy, sneaking in under his collar, refreshing after the heat of their office. But Matt hunched his shoulders up, hiding as much of his face as he could behind his scarf where the frosty air couldn't nip at him as easily. Foggy watched him go, caught in his melancholia, when Matt stopped and called his name in question.
"Foggy? Something the m-matter?" His teeth chattered more the longer he spoke. "I'd pref-fer not to spend more t-time in the c-cold than I have to."
Foggy's brain caught up with the moment, and his feet caught up with his brain as he jogged the short distance to Matt.
"Nothing's the matter. Just, let me walk you home." He offered his arm, nudging Matt, and Matt tucked his hand in the crook of Foggy's elbow. The touch was icy, even through the layers of shirt and coat. Foggy folded his hand over Matt's awkwardly, and they set off.
Foggy could try to keep at least this one, small part of Matt warm.
By the time they reached his building, Matt was pressed up to Foggy's side. It was counterproductive for guiding and slowed them down, but if Foggy's tail were out, it'd be wagging. He wanted to nuzzle into Matt's hair, mix their scents more thoroughly, but refrained. Not unless Matt asked. Things weren't how they used to be anymore, and for all those days had been easier, the Matt he knew now was the truer Matt. Foggy was happy to be allowed to give Matt this much.
Matt unlocked his building's entryway door, and a rush of warmer air enveloped them. Matt stood straighter.
Foggy said, "I suppose this is good night—" just as Matt asked, "Would you like to join me for the night? To sleep, like we used to."
"Of—of course. I'd love to," he confessed. A breeze blew, ruffling his hair, and Foggy was instantly aware they were having this conversation on Matt's stoop in the open air when they could be having it indoors with its modern heating abilities. "Why are we talking about this out here? In, in, in," he urged as he propelled him and Matt forward.
The conversation wouldn't continue until they were safely inside, together in Matt's bed, ensconced in their own bubble of a world that ended at the corners of Matt's comforters.
Foggy stripped down as Matt changed into sleep pants, and when he shifted, his wolf came to the forefront easily. Emotions were more readily expressed while furred, and Foggy found himself nosing at Matt, urging him to hurry up and drink his dinner so they could go to bed.
Matt chuckled and patted his head, but Foggy was serious. Matt's apartment was warm, but not enough to offset the chill soaked into Matt, and the refrigerated blood didn't help either.
Finally—finally—they retired to Matt's bedroom, and Foggy wasted no time stretching out and draping himself over as much of Matt as he could. Matt pulled up his three comforters and tucked them around the pair of them, turning Foggy into a very large bed warmer. As much as Foggy tried to maximize their contact, Matt met his efforts. He sunk his hands into Foggy's fur and hugged Foggy close.
Before long, between the blood and Foggy, life came back to Matt. His face flushed, his lips lost their thin look, and cuddling him no longer felt like laying on a very tall cube of dry ice. Matt would never be as warm as Foggy, their biologies precluded it, but right now like this he was the perfect amount of refreshing cool for Foggy, who'd be overheating under these covers otherwise.
Then again, Foggy wouldn't be here if not for Matt. But the fact that this was were Matt was made this, in Foggy's mind, the perfect spot to be.
Now that he wasn't as deathly chilled, Matt loosened his hold on Foggy and tried to roll away, but Foggy refused to let him move. He couldn't talk, but he didn't have to when he could simply follow Matt across the mattress and press in close again. Matt didn't try to give him space a second time, and they settled into cozy contentment. Foggy's eyes drifted shut.
"I was afraid, you know," Matt whispered into the quiet between them. "I was afraid you'd leave before I could ask you to stay. That's why I had to ask while we were still outside."
Foggy gave Matt's chin a little lick, and Matt's arms tightened around Foggy. Matt's heart beat from his dinner—sluggishly, so much slower than Foggy's, but strong—and Foggy laid his head over it. He was close enough to nose at Matt's jaw, so he did.
I'm here, he tried to say. I'm here. All you had to do was ask. I didn't know you wanted me here.
They fell asleep like that, and sometime during the night, Foggy shifted back. Shifts came easier when relaxed, and it would have been hard for him to be any more at peace with his place in the world—under the covers with Matt, the two of them all the world he needed.
"Foggy?" Matt asked, sleepy and sweet.
Foggy could turn over, draw himself away from Matt to begin the process of separating them for the day ahead—it was an option—but the desire to stay where he was won. Let the day be put off just a little longer.
Foggy lifted his head and stretched to kiss Matt's cheek, Matt's perpetual dusting of stubble rasping against his lips. He put a hand on Matt's chest to steady himself, palm unerringly over where Matt's heart lay—no longer pumping, not this long after Matt's last meal, but still the center of Foggy's affections.
Matt smiled.
No, no one thought a vampire and a werewolf could work together. But Foggy knew, and so did Matt: they worked perfectly.