Chapter Text
Feet hit solid ground behind him, remarkably softly considering the man attached to them had to have grappled from a neighbouring building to get over here, and he's not exactly small. Dex doesn't glance back. He doesn't need to. The shudder in his shoulders is enough to explain the source.
“Look who's back,” he says, his tone polite. “It's not been the same without you around here.”
“The man you're targeting is innocent.”
Dex tuts.
“You can't know who I'm targeting,” he says. “It's official business. Secret.”
Murdock approaches and pushes Dex sideways. Dex allows himself to be pushed, moving away from his rifle a couple of steps and finally glancing at Matt.
His suit is red again; Kevlar, leather and devil horns. And for a sightless man he's staring right at him. It's a shame, really, that he doesn't get to see Dex’s own upgrades. He's quite proud of them, all things considered.
“Official business,” Murdock scoffs, and Dex shrugs.
“I'm with-”
“The CIA,” Matt says, his tone scornful. “Yeah, yeah. Who are you really working for?”
“No, I've got a card and everything,” he says. “A badge. Do you wanna see?”
He pauses, lets it hang in the air between them until it becomes uncomfortable.
“Oh, shit, sorry. That was insensitive of me, right? I've always got a little stuck on the finer details of-”
“Dex, shut up,” Murdock says. “And listen to me. There's no love lost between us, I know that. But that man has not done the crimes that they're claiming he's done. I know on paper this is an official assassination for the safety of the United States, but-”
“Matthew,” Dex says, raising his arms and moving forwards. “I really appreciate you coming here and trying to keep my conscience clean on this matter. Honestly, it's such an important part of the vigilante shit that's been missing the whole time you were inside. I said, you know, hundreds of times, that the place wasn't right without the Catholic moral centre of Hells Kitchen. You were put away for the wrong reasons and you were held there way too long.”
He pauses, smiling.
“But the thing is, when we get down to it, I got my orders and I don't give a fuck about whatever it is you think you've found out. Seb’s gonna die tonight, and there's nothing you can do to stop that.”
And then, as if by magic, Daredevil's full weight hits him right in the ribs and Dex is laughing as he's elbowed in the face, mask pressing against the skin of his cheek.
He drops his shoulder and knocks Matt off balance slightly, but they're further into the centre of the roof instead of grappling on the edge. That's good, Dex doesn't much want to be thrown off another rooftop.
“You're wrong,” Murdock growls, throwing up a knee to catch Dex in the abdomen, knocking the wind from him.
“I mean, you can try and distract me,” Dex splutters, flinging a knife so that it ricochets back and the handle smacks against the back of Murdock's head. “But if he doesn't die tonight, I'll just get him somewhere else.”
“He doesn't have to die at all,” Matt says, kicking down Dex's legs and attempting to get hold of his wrists. “He's discovered what they're doing, the things they haven't told you, and the only reason they don't want you to find out is-”
“Ah-ah,” Dex replies, tipping himself so that he unbalances them both, knocking them both to the slimy wet concrete of the rooftop. “What makes you think that I don't?”
Matt growls in frustration, landing fully on top of Dex and forcing him to his knees, his arms held behind him with a bruising force.
“You don't,” he says. “But if you settle, I'll tell you.”
Dex grins, feeling blood dripping from his mouth, and then he throws his head back and collides with Matt's groin, forcing a pained groan from the other man.
His weight further pushes Dex down as he falls though, and it's hard to get leverage, so Dex stops fighting. Matt, evidently surprised, remains on top of him, panting.
“You pant like you're balls deep in someone, Murdock.”
“Fuck you,” Matt snarls.
“I mean, that would certainly distract me.”
He smiles again, his face closer to the concrete than before.
“I'm sure you've got some energy to work out,” he says. “Especially when all of your little girlfriends-”
Matt hikes his hands up further and pushes him down.
“Don't talk about shit you know nothing about.”
“Okay, okay,” Dex says. “I hear ya. I surrender. Look. No more fighting back. Promise.”
He does relax significantly under Matt, who freezes, unsure of whether to trust the turn of events.
“I mean, this is just another job, right? Not worth another spinal injury.”
“They're using you,” Matt says.
“Nothing new.”
“They're framing their crimes on other people.”
“If it's that easy to frame someone they're probably doing something wrong in the first place.”
“It's not the fucking CIA you're working for, Dex-”
Dex starts to laugh, curling himself over until his head is on the ground and he's supported just by his knees.
“Oh, Matty,” he wheezes. “You're adorable.”
“Stop laughing,” Matt says.
“I'm not sure I can.”
They've been this close plenty of times before, likely closer, but this seems more intimate somehow. Dex pushes his hips back and his ass hits Matt's groin and-
“Oh,” Dex says, pausing, his laughter stopping dead and the air around them becoming thicker. “Oh, Matt. Do you want to fuck me?”
“No,” Matt says, quickly.
“Come on,” Dex says. “No one has to know. I wasn't joking when I said you could distract me.”
“Shut the fuck up, Dex.”
Dex grinds his hips again, spreading his legs further.
“Come on,” he says, breathless. “I'll be a good boy for you.”
Matt growls, pushing off Dex’s mask to grab his hair and pull his head back. Dex moans, shameless.
“Shut,” he barks, right up against his ear. “Up.”
“Make me.”
Everything moves fast after that, Matt's not entirely sure how he ended up where he is and neither is Dex, but Matt's pants are round his thighs and Dex is clutching at his bared skin while his dick is shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. Dex plays the part well, takes it all in, his tongue tracing veins as his throat opens to accept the intrusion.
Matt doesn't think about what he's doing, even overwhelmed as he is by the smell of his arousal and the small, muted groans coming from the man on his knees in front of him. He closes his eyes, shoves his fist into Dex's hair, and lets the pleasure overwhelm him. Dex, content to take it, hums around the hard flesh in his mouth and happily struggles to breathe through his nose when Matt pulls back.
Dex shifts his hips forwards and positions his dick against Matt's leg, swallowing him even deeper in the process and allowing for small, rocking movements in time with his thrusts, his mind blissfully blank with the pain in his knees and his back and the stimulation that comes with Matt, with Daredevil, towering over him. He sucks, digging his nails into Matt's thighs in a way that he's not going to be able to hide from Karen, fucking up against the man's leg like a dog. He doesn't mind the incredulity of the situation, content to watch Murdock fall apart from his sins like this, happy to submit if it feels this good.
Matt moans, the sound low and deep and Dex digs his fingernails in harder in response, whimpering as he chases his own release on the back of Matt's brutal thrusts directly into his throat. He thinks he can feel blood on his nails and hopes he can.
He's not going to be able to speak right for days, but that shouldn't be a problem.
Matt grabs him harder, holds his head still, and fucks with more purpose. Dex shoves his dick against Matt's leg with as much friction as he can manage, pinpricks of pain from the grip in his hair as he strains against it, and it's just moments between him feeling Matt's hips stutter down his throat and him coming in his pants, on his knees, on a dirty rooftop in spluttering rain.
Dex feels degraded, legs apart, mouth still full of Matt's softening dick as Matt pants above him. He watches the micro expressions flicker over Matt's mouth and jawline as the hormone surge passes and he realises what he's done, and Dex loves every single part of it.
He's lurched unceremoniously to the side and catches himself on his hands, coughing and spitting into the shitty concrete as Matt moves away from him, hastily tucking himself back away and running his hands over his face. The come in his underwear doesn't feel great, and he hopes he won't have to fight anymore before he gets changed, but it was worth it for this reaction.
“Hey,” he says, and his voice is gravelly but he's tried to soften it like he's heard other people do when they have grave news. “The person that keeps attacking Karen. She calls herself Lady Muse.”
Matt stops, turns to spin himself incredulously.
“What?”
“Yeah. Seems like your psychiatrist ex girlfriend has some screws loose herself. And she's really mad at you, and by extension poor Karen.”
“How do you know this?”
Dex shrugs.
“I know a lot of things,” he says. “But I was keeping an eye.”
Matt stamps forwards, angered again. Dex raises his hands in surrender, still on his knees.
“Don't fucking stalk her.”
“I wasn't, I promise. I just got in the way a little. She didn't have you to protect her, after all. I was worried.”
“I don't believe that,” Matt says. “I don't believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”
“That's fine,” he says. “Look, it's fine. Believe whatever you want. But I promise you, I am trying to be one of the good guys, okay?”
Matt stares at him for a little while longer, head slightly cocked as if he's listening for something. Dex reaches into his back pocket, getting to his feet slowly as if not to startle a wild animal.
“Listen, I shouldn't really do this, but I do have a card. Take it, please. Then if you need me, you have my number. I'm sure someone can put it in your phone for you.”
“No,” Matt says, turning away. “I don't want your card. I don't want anything to do with you.”
Dex pauses, shrugs.
“Suit yourself.”
He flicks the card aside and it goes over the roof top. He's not sure if Matt would notice that or not, the man seems too deep into his internal crisis to bother with such things as littering.
“See you around, Red,” he says, grabbing his rifle and mask from the ground. He slips down the fire escape as silently as he can as people on the street start to flock and scream, catches a glimpse of the man on the street, artery severed by a playing card, and hears sirens approaching. He pulls a jacket on over his suit and grabs his bag from the alleyway, stowing his things inside and putting on a pair of sunglasses. He thinks - hopes - that the commotion is enough to disrupt Matt's senses until he can get far enough away.
Poor Seb, Dex thinks, just another player inside of this silly little game. And poor Matt, thinking that he'd saved him only for this.
He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the scene. Everyone else seems to be doing it in the morally bankrupt social media society that is New York these days and so he’s not massively out of place. He sends it off to Charles before putting the phone back in his pocket and starting to whistle. He's done his job, he's done it well, and now he gets to relax for a couple of weeks before they come up with another one. And the best part is, he doesn't even need to hide. The whole thing is perfectly above board, sanctioned and state-sponsored.
He's sure Matt will catch up with him eventually, and he's equally sure that when he does he'll come with the full force of his righteous fury. But he hadn't been joking, it has been too quiet without him. And after this, Dex can't wait until next time.
He's living the dream.