Jun 9, 2022
( @pcstxprejudices ) frank castle & matt murdock
“didn’t take you for the cowboy sort, red.“ kicking the dirtied wooden floor of the rundown saloon in timely, frank kept his gaze steadied onto matt. “what’re you doing here?” he asked, a calm sort of comfort in his tone - he knew matt, he liked him enough, and knew that if the devil of hell’s kitchen was here - this place had a chance of turning good and away from doom. “want a drink?” he was sure they hadn’t met since frank’s first fake-death, and he was fine with that. murdock didn’t need his sort around anyway. sliding the glass of whiskey across the tabletop, he picked up two tumblers and clinked them together.