Matt's a little bit dizzy and has had too much to drink for someone who has only been drunk two or three times and it's the only explanation for confusing Foggy with the pretty girl sitting on his other side. They're sitting squashed together with a couple of other people on somebody's twin bed, a study group turned party, and Matt's been flirting with Katie because it seems like it's what he should be doing. She smells like sugar cookies and she has a nice laugh and Foggy elbowed him at some point tonight and muttered, "It's so weird that you always find the hot ones, dude," in a way that sounded more amused than jealous.
When he turns to murmur, "Hey," and lean in to see if she'll let him kiss her, it takes him a solid moment to realize the soft hair his fingers slide through are Foggy's.
"Uhm," Foggy says, when Matt pulls away abruptly, heart suddenly the loudest thing in a loud room.
"Sorry," he says, laughing nervously. "I thought you were--someone else."
"Katie?" Foggy asks. "She left, like, ten minutes ago."
". . .I think I'm too drunk," Matt says, sighing.
"If you're kissing me, probably," Foggy says, laughing. "C'mon, I'll make sure you don't get lost in the elevator or something."
Matt waits until they're in the elevator to their floor to apologize again, saying, "Hey, sorry for--y'know. I should've been more careful."
Foggy is quiet for a nerve-wracking moment before he steps in to kiss Matt softly, running fingers through his hair, pulling him closer when Matt automatically steps into it to kiss him back. His hands clench on Matt's waist and Matt opens his mouth and then the elevator dings and they jump apart.
"There," Foggy says, breathlessly. "Now we're even."
He casually walks out of the elevator like Matt didn't just learn a whole lot of shit about himself.
". . .wait," he says, stumbling after him.
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