Matt Murdock Shorts

Am I Ready For A Handshake With Death (No) I'm Just Such A Happy Mess

A/N: I love one (1) son of Satan. I'm only a little sorry for the semi-obscure comic book character central to the plot of this one.
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You're content. You made love with your two boyfriends and all three of you have tomorrow off. You and Matt have showered and he's laying on the sofa with his head pillowed in your lap. As you're sitting there, running your hands through Matt's hair, Daimon comes out of the shower.

When you met Daimon, you and Matt were together. Early on in your relationship, you and Matt discussed your respective sexualities. It came as a huge relief to both of you that the other wasn't straight. Sure, a straight person could be accepting, but having someone who understands is infinitely better. Looking back, you had clues. Matt is masculine, without a doubt. But for all his flaws, toxic masculinity isn't one of them. He's not afraid to cry when he needs to and he appreciates an unreasonably specific coffee order. (Yes, he can taste the difference between ristretto shots and regular, thank you.) Those clues are what drew you to him in the first place.

Then Daimon came along and started coming onto Matt during a mission.

—0—

When Matt got to the cabin S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided for them, Daimon was already there unpacking. Matt couldn't see the red hair that seemed to curl to mirror his Daredevil helmet. He couldn't see the blue eyes with literal fire in them. He couldn't see the large k9s, perpetually extended past the perfect row of shining white teeth. But he could tell corded muscle covered Daimon's body. He could sense his nonchalant posture, laced with an earned sense of confidence. He could feel Daimon's heat signature, beckoning him closer in the room. Of course, in the snowy Alps of Norway, the little cabin had a busted heater. And one bed.

"So, are we both going to freeze while one of us sleeps in the living room, or are we going to share the bed like men?" Daimon asked, prompting a surprised laugh from Matt.

"Uh, I'm going to call my girlfriend to say goodnight—"

"I get it, you're not gay." Daimon put his hands up in defense, making himself comfortable against the headboard. Then he took a minute to watch Matt go about his business. "So, you're blind."

Matt let out a breath. "Yes."

"Well, those were some impressive skills you showed off when we met the other day. I take it you have some way to compensate."

"Also yes."

"So, you could tell I put my hands up in surrender a minute ago?"

"You don't have to narrate your movements for me. I can picture outlines."

Daimon hummed. "So, you never answered my question. Are we going to share the bed or are you kicking me to the couch?"

"Well, before you interrupted me to assume, I was going to say that I have to call her to ask if us sharing a bed made her uncomfortable because I'm bi."

"Damn. It figures. Then one time— that I know of— I not only work with but share a room with, an openly bisexual superhero, he's taken."

Matt gave Daimon a tight smile and shrugged and found your number in his phone.

"Hey, babe." He said as he sat on the foot of the bed.

"Hey, Matt, how's it going over there?"

"It's fine. We actually didn't get any action today."

"And your boyfriend here has assured me I won't be getting any tonight, either." Daimon cut in from where he was sitting on the bed.

"Who was that?"