hmm for the easy fluffy mattfoggy prompts—the first time Foggy talks Matt through jerking off, maybe over the phone, and Matt is Very Into Foggy's voice?
writing the set-up for this & maybe i will also write the payoff. who knows.
(also i was feeling some kind of SPD!matt and somewhere-on-the-spectrum!matt while i was writing this)
Matt should probably be more ashamed of how much he sounds like a sulky kid when he says, lying on their dorm room floor between their beds, “I miss you.”
“I just want to check again, you do know you’re my boyfriend, right?” Foggy asks, sounding more amused than anything, voice a little distant as he climbs the stairs to hide in a closet in his grandparents’ house in Jersey. “And that my family knows you’re my boyfriend and that coming to family Christmas parties is a very boyfriendly thing to do?”
“I didn’t want to impose,” Matt says, for the tenth time at least, and Foggy doesn’t sound any more convinced by it than he did the first time.
“It is impossible to impose on a Nelson family gathering,” Foggy says. “There are five thousand of us. If you weren’t so hot that all my cousins have fallen in love with you, nobody would even notice you were here.”
“Five thousand people in a tight space is a lot for me,” Matt says, after a moment. He doesn’t want it to be a thing, like he can’t handle it, but it’s self-preservation of his own head and Foggy’s time if he has to keep asking why Matt looks like he wants to jump out a window.
“Oh,” Foggy says, a little softer than before. “Yeah, that’s a lot of noise and socializing for you, isn’t it? You really should’ve said that before, there are a couple thousand Nelsons I bet my mom would trade for you.”
“It’s okay,” Matt says, laughing. “Maybe I’ll try next year but I don’t want to be a spoilsport.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Foggy says. “But I would love you even if you were.”
Matt forgets that he’s allowed to say that sometimes. They’ve been together three months and he’s never been in love before but nothing has ever felt better than this, more steadying, more right. Surely that’s what love is. It makes him feel like he belongs here. Wherever here is—Columbia, Foggy’s life, rational non-feral human existence. All three.
“I love you, too,” he says, smiling at the ceiling. “We can celebrate Christmas by ourselves when you get back.”
“However will we do that?” Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the look on his face.
Matt’s kind of shit at knowing when someone’s flirting with him if their heartbeat doesn’t help to measure and Foggy’s figured that out on his own. He really leans into the voices. Chews the scenery a little.
“Anything you want,” Matt says, sliding his free hand down from where it was resting on his stomach to barely press over where his dick is half-hard in his boxers, just from the sound of Foggy’s voice and his breath getting heavier against the receiver.
“You’re touching yourself,” Foggy says, sounding happy as he lowers his voice even more.
“How did you know?” Matt asks.
“I have, like, a sixth sense,” Foggy says, “and also you make really cute noises.”
“Oh,” Matt says, lifting his hips a little when he touches himself again, rubbing slowly through the fabric. “Is that okay?”
“I can’t join in,” Foggy says, “because if any member of my family catches me jerking off in a closet, I will be hearing that story at every Christmas dinner for the rest of my life. But I, uh—could help you along?”
Matt’s laugh is breathy and uncontrolled before he says, “Yeah. Please.”
