ofthespider

Title; In Which Matt Kind Of Apologizes
Fandom; Marvel (Spider-Man/Daredevil)
Characters/Pairings; Peter Parker/Matt Murdock
Theme; 1. You Were Right About Me
Rating; PG-13 (maybe R)
Canon; In some universe where Peter and Matt are doing the nasty. Takes place a few days after In Which Philosophies Differ
Warning(s); There's naked-in-a-shower-ness, but nothing really sexual. Oh, and a bloody nose. omg.
Summary; Peter has a rough night, and Matt just so happens to pick said night to kind of apologize. Sort of. Everything seems all right, anyway, because he ends up in the shower with Peter.


They hadn't spoken for a couple of days.

It wasn't that unusual. Not really. They lived completely separate lives in different parts of the City, but this was different. Now they were avoiding each other, and Peter felt responsible for it. He'd been right, of course. But still.

It didn't help that he'd gotten his ass kicked tonight. He was sick as it was, it was cold, and he'd been stupid enough to go out there anyway -- which meant he almost tripped and fell coming through his window, tearing off his mask and heading straight for the sink. He didn't even seem to notice that there was someone sitting in his armchair, standing when he came inside.

"Peter?"

Peter jumped, a hand over his mouth to cover the blood when he looked around. Matt. "Holy---! What are you doing here? I thought you were avoiding me."

"I was around. What happened to you?"

He was around. Jerk. He'd probably come over to tell Peter how full of shit he was. Like he needed that. Turning back to the sink, Peter ran the water, taking a handful and spitting it out before he answered. "I didn't do so hot tonight, that's all. Bloody nose, but my teeth are all where they should be. --What are you doing here?" he repeated, ducking his head for another drink of water to rinse the bloody taste out of his mouth.

The next thing Peter knew, he had a paper towel shoved in his direction, Matt's hand nearly coming into contact with his face. Taking it, Peter held it to his nose -- which was still bleeding, albeit sluggishly -- and tipped his head back. Even angry, he could accept help when it came.

"You were right."

Peter blinked. "...What?"

"You were right." He could hear Matt frowning. "Happy? You were right about me." It was obvious that admitting that was almost painful, but Matt Murdock wasn't the kind of person who made excuses, not about his nature, and certainly not to Peter Parker.

"...Oh. ...Well, good. Glad you realized that. What are you going to do about it?" He sounded like a teacher just then, expectant but willing to help correct the behavior. It was an attitude Matt really didn't appreciate when it was directed toward him, but he seemed to growl once and then ... deal with it. Not that Peter could see that, too busy trying to get his nose to stop bleeding.

So instead of answering Peter's question, he said, "I shouldn't have hit you. Now what in the hell happened to you?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I have a cold. Threw me off. Got beat up by some new supertech gang. Most of them are in custody now, but ... it cost me." He ached, honestly, bruised and cut up and just ... nasty. Nothing he couldn't handle, but it wasn't comfortable, either. "I need a shower."

Looking at Matt once -- and seeing that, wow, he looked ... agitated, even if he'd just came to semi-apologize, or whatever it was he'd just done -- Peter decided against inviting him along and instead just headed for the bathroom. If Matt wanted to stay, he would. In the meantime, Peter just wanted to get out of the suit, so he stripped down, waited until the water was hot and stepped in. The heat made the cuts and bruises burn, but it was comfortable in its own way while the blood circled the drain. Spider-Man didn't usually take the kind of beatings Daredevil did, if only because of his speed and strength, but there were nights when he was more like Matt that even Peter liked to admit, in pain and just wanting it to go away so he could sleep.

Peter looked up when he heard a knock on the doorframe, sticking his head out of the curtains to see Matt tapping the frame with the top of his cane. "Hm?"

"There enough room for me in there?" Matt still looked a little bothered, like it had been pulling teeth to come all the way to Queens to talk to him, but he was smiling now, in the arrogant smirking sort of way, like he knew so much more than everyone else did. Peter should've hated the superior attitude, but right now, he couldn't help but find it ... charming.

Grinning, Peter nodded, even if Matt couldn't see it. "Sure." Pulling the curtain back as a gesture of invitation, Peter left it and went right back to his shower, listening to Matt undress and hearing, rather than seeing, him step in behind Peter, closing the curtain.

Matt's nasty mood seemed forgotten when he reached over, stepping closer even as he used his hands to assess the damage. Peter flinched when Matt's sensitive fingers glided over a cut or pressed against a bad bruise, and Matt lowered his head to kiss Peter's shoulder, as if in apology. "You really took a beating," Matt murmured, nuzzling him gently.

"I know." Peter let his head roll to one side, content to let Matt kiss him, even when he twitched from an unexpected ache or jolt of pain from Matt touching him. "You still mad at me?"

"No." The answer was muffled against Peter's skin, Matt's mouth pressed against his neck as he seemed to relax. Peter couldn't help but feel relieved; he still didn't feel he'd been in the wrong, but he didn't want to lose Matt over an argument, either. Even one as important as the one they'd had. "Are you still mad?"

"Nah." He should've been, but he seemed to forget how bad the fight had been when Matt was touching him, calloused hands carefully wiping the dirt and grime away from the cuts, leaving them raw but clean.

And then, Matt blurted, "God, you smell bad."

Peter burst into laughter, coughing it to a stop when he realized laughing hurt. "Well, yeah, I probably do," he agreed. "I was only out being a superhero all night. But you love it."

"Hn." Instead of arguing, Matt bit the shell of Peter's ear, nipping at his neck. "Maybe I do. Maybe I do love that grungy Spider-Man smell."

Peter snorted. "Because Daredevil never comes home smelling bad. It's a Spider-Man exclusive."

"I'll have you know that Daredevil's hygene is infinitely better than Spider-Man's," Matt informed him with another bite to his neck.

"Whatever. Spider-Man smell, indeed." He rolled his eyes, turning to nuzzle Matt, hard but playful. "You just can't smell your own stench."

Catching Peter's mouth in a hard kiss, Matt snickered, nudging him. "Spider-Man has his own smell. It's in your suit..." His hands were moving from their place on Peter's hips up to his stomach, one hand sliding up to his chest and resting over his heart. "...gets pressed into your skin. You just don't realize it."

Peter was silent for a moment, quietly amazed at what Matt could pick up. "...Oh. ...Right, I knew that," he eventually answered, flippantly.

"Sure you did."