it had the same effect on matt that it did five years ago—filling him with a mixture of excitement and dread. it wasn’t the punisher voice, no…it was slightly different. for those who didn’t know frank well, it wasn’t easy to spot the different, but at this point, matt knew frank too well, he knew that voice by heart. and he knew when he was the punisher, and when he was just…frank.
and that was the version of frank matt liked best. the times when he would let his guard down, even just barely, and show some of what he hid behind iron defenses. matt could feel the nervous energy radiating from him, practically taste his anger in the air, and matt knew it was deserved. he knew that he had been an asshole, like he always was, and he had left frank with the same unopened cans of worms and the same unresolved feelings that matt had been trying so desperately to forget about.
when frank approached him, he tensed, ready to get into a fist fight—it certainly wouldn’t be their first—but then frank wrapped his arms around him. matt stood there, stiff, unsure of what to do and unable to decide whether to break out of the hold or to sink deeper into it. he wanted the latter. he was leaning towards the former. unable to do either, he just stood there for a moment. he took a deep breath. he had missed the smell that frank carried with him—gun oil and burnt gunpowder, sweat soaking into his shirt under the kevlar, the plasticky outer covering of his body armor, the tanned, dried leather of his jacket.
matt swallowed thickly. he finally brought his arms up to press his palms against frank’s back, taking in another deep breath as he moved in just a little closer, pressing his nose against frank’s shoulder so he could inhale that scent one more time. he thought he would never smell it again.
he did care for frank, as much as he was capable of caring for anyone. which was never enough.
still feeling torn between wanting to keep the other man close, or throwing a punch instead, for the time he stayed with the former. for all of frank’s anger and confusion at the radio silence that had been between the two of them ever since he’d been brought back, there was an understanding there as well. trauma tended to form in people differently, and for what he knew about matt, this was the way that the other tended to handle these sorts of matters. fair enough, given frank was likely to do the same and may have been worse had things began to grow even further between them.
but that was the problem here, wasn’t it?? matt had had five years between that moment while frank only had weeks. relief flooded through frank once the arms were wrapping around him in return -- finally feeling as though he could fully melt into the embrace, give himself over to it if only for a few seconds. breathing shakily, fingers clutched tighter at the fabric of daredevil’s suit, feeling as though he was nearing that area of wanting to push matt away or have those feelings bubble over and keep them close.
“least you can admit it,” comes the gruff response, fingers pressing tighter, almost desperate to keep matt close lest he slip away. not that it would be the first nor the last time something like that would ever happen. their relationship had always been rather chaotic, ever since the very beginning.
he feels almost like a lost solider without direction -- floating away, needing to be grounded lest he completely disappear all over again. maybe that was why frank felt that desperation kicking in, that need to keep matt close. he’d disappeared once before, why couldn’t it happen again??
“wasn’t too sure if you were going to run when you realized it was me, or you were gonna actually stay ‘round and wait. glad to know it was the latter even if i’m still tempted to throw a punch.” frank wants to do more. half tempted to turn his head, let lips brush against what skin he could see, but he stopped himself. there were too many unknowns here.
