Because of his heightend senses, Matt has a sympathetic gag reflex. It's something he's embarrassed about, but he tries his best to manage it.
A/N: I've had this headcanon bouncing around my noggin since I started the show. I finally decided to do something with it. - 👻
Usually, Matt's heightend senses are a blessing. He can tell if someone is lying, because he can hear their heartbeat. He knows where someone is throwing a punch, because he can feel the air move.
Today though, those heightend senses are a curse. He can smell the lingering tequila before their client even walks in, though judging by the muttered curses and uneven vibration it's more staggering than walking.
Karen's voice cuts into his silent analysis, "Hi! You must be James," Matt tries to focus on her soft inhale as she pauses to search for the client's last name. "Hoffman! Here for Mr. Nelson and Mr. Murdock?" Karen finishes.
James swallows thickly before he answers, the sound making Matt's stomach do a precursory flip. 'Why the hell did he bother to come in half drunk?' Matt thinks. He's so lost in his head and rising nausea that he doesn't actually hear the client answer. He doesn't notice Foggy's steps as he approaches either, and he nearly jumps when Foggy leans in to Matt's ear.
"Dude," he whispers "I think this guy is drunk. But not like today's drunk, but drunk from yesterday and never sobered up drunk." Matt hums a non-committal response. He can smell Foggy's everything bagel on his breath and while it's a much better smell than the tequila on their potential client, it still makes his stomach twist angrily. He feels the floor vibrate as Foggy retreats to the small conference room, and he follows.
When their client, James Matt reminds himself, sits he knows the whole meeting is going to be rough. Karen's heels click softly against the carpet as she makes her way to the mini fridge, presumably to grab water for everyone. He can hear Foggy's heartbeat, slightly faster than normal, which means he's worried. Matt isn't sure if he hopes Foggy is worried about the client or about him.
Foggy is halfway through explaining the client charges when he stops abruptly, "Mr. Hoffman, I don't mean to overstep but you don't look so hot." Matt feels his own heart speed up, if their client pukes... He has to swallow against the tightness in his throat at the thought. James groans, and swallows once, then again, then a third time before he answers, "I uh-" he hiccups softly and Matt's stomach lurches, "Mr. Nelson I uh- I'm not feeling great."
'Deep breath Matt, in and out, deep breath.' He repeats the routine in his mind over and over. James covers his mouth against a sickly sounding burp, "I think I'm gonna-" he doesn't finish. Their client heaves and a small gush of bile and alcohol spreads across the conference table. All hell breaks loose after that. Matt has to press his fist to his mouth, letting out a soft gag. Foggy rushes forward, taking the trash can from Karen and putting it under the client's chin just in time for him to heave again. This time remnants of the client's dinner join the already putrid tequila-bile mixture.
Matt is on his feet in an instant, rushing out of the conference room. He's gagging into his hand, which is now firmly clamped over his mouth as his coffee sloshes in his stomach. He's going to puke and he knows it.
He manages to bend over the sink before gagging forcefully into it. He can still smell every molecule their client vomited onto the table. Matt swears before gagging again, that smell will cling to the wood for weeks. He coughs and tries to straighten up but his stomach twists again, sending acid rushing up his throat and into his mouth. He chokes for a second before heaving into the sink, his morning coffee mixing with acid and bile. The taste alone makes Matt heave again and thankfully nothing comes up this time.
The soft click of heels against the carpet warn him that Karen is coming, and he tries to straighten again to no avail. He's coughing and gagging over the sink when Karen opens the door. Matt can hear the skip in her heartbeat when she sees him, "Oh my God, Matt." She's by his side in two strides, her soft gentle hand gliding over his back. "Are you okay? Did you get the flu or something?"
He manages to finally straighten and clear his throat. Matt's cheeks heat, and he guesses he's turning beet red. "No, I uh-" he hears the client retch down the hall and he gags so hard he has to double over. A string of spit and bile is all that comes up, but it part of it sticks to his tongue if only to make everything worse. The feeling triggers his gag reflex again and he remains over the sink panting and gagging.
"Shhh shhh, it's okay." Karen soothes, "You're okay." Her voice is perfect. It isn't so high that it grits against Matt's ears, but it isn't so low that he feels like his skull is vibrating. He flinches at the square of folded toilet paper as Karen dabs it across his lips, taking the cursed mucousy spit off his lower lip, "Deep breaths," she says softly, "Is it food poisoning?"
Matt shakes his head slowly, "I'm just uh-" he clears his throat, "I'm okay, this happens a lot-" he has to stop and swallow again. Karen holds up her hand to stop him before he tries to say anything else, "It's okay, I get it." He knows she's offering him her signature warm smile, he can hear it in her voice.
"Thanks," he mutters before having to bend forward to gag again.
You have to understand… I… I spent my whole life trying to get away from…him, from… from the past. And when I came down to London, it meant that I could be… who I wanted, that I could say what I wanted, so I just ended up telling people the easiest thing. That I am an only child. And the more I said it, the more… stopped being a lie - Benjamin Greene
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