it's all good dough

I got wisdom tooth surgery today, so Matt did too. Sorry, buddy, that’s just the way it works. My headcanon is that while Matt can take pain no problem, if you throw him the slightest bit of discomfort (such as having a numb face), he’ll sulk for the rest of the day.

Matt touches his lip, trying and failing to frown as he idly plays with it. Yeah, those sedatives haven’t quite worn off yet.

“I can’t feel my face,” Matt mumbles from behind his fingers.

Oh God. He’s so precious. And so incredibly ridiculous. Foggy can’t believe that he’s chosen this man to love.

“It’s still there,” Foggy reassures him. “Very handsome, a bit banged up: just like always.”

The beam Matt gives him–or attempts to give him from behind gauze and fingertips–is enough to make how pouty Matt already is about the surgery aftercare completely worth it.

Or almost worth it. Because then Foggy has to slap Matt’s fingers away to keep him from pulling out the gauze. The pout comes back, but slips away a bit when Foggy runs a hand through Matt’s hair.

“Mmpf,” Matt mumbles. “Thanks, Fog. For coming with.”

“Anytime, buddy,” Foggy says, pressing a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “Now come on. Let’s get you some drugs and ice cream.”

“No drugs. Just ice cream.”

“Drugs and ice cream, and I’ll let you loop your Thurgood Marshall audiobook when we get home. Without headphones.”

Even despite the drugs, gauze, and numbness, Matt’s smile manages to be wily. He knows what an opportunity this is. “Deal.”

Foggy smiles. Yeah, he has a whining vigilante on his hands and hours of listening to old legal decisions to look forward to–but there’s also Matt and ice cream involved. Still totally worth it.