Epilogue
The storm that had brought Frank to Matt’s door weeks ago was now just a distant memory. The city was calm, the streets still slick from an earlier rain, but the sky had cleared. Moonlight reflected off puddles, and the hum of traffic filled the air.
Frank Castle could take down a room full of armed men without breaking a sweat. He could withstand torture, navigate the darkest alleys of New York City, and survive more life-threatening injuries than any man had a right to. But standing outside Matt Murdock’s apartment, trying to psych himself up for their first official date? That was a whole other level of terrifying.
He adjusted the collar of his jacket for the tenth time, looking down at the small bouquet of flowers in his hand. Flowers, Castle? What the hell are you doing? he thought to himself. But Karen had insisted when he mentioned the date in passing. “Matt deserves someone who makes an effort,” she’d said. So here he was, standing in the hall, feeling like a goddamn idiot.
The door opened before he could knock, the sight waiting for him knocked the wind out of his lungs. Matt stood there, dressed in a deep red sweater and black jeans that fit him just right. His hair was slightly tousled, and his smile lit up the dim hallway like a goddamn beacon.
Frank froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe, openly before muttering, “Jesus Christ.”
“Hi, Frank,” Matt said, his smile widening. “You planning to knock, or were you going to keep pacing out there all night?”
Frank cleared his throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm his face felt. “Wasn’t pacin’,” he muttered, shoving the flowers forward awkwardly. “These’re for you.”
Smooth, Castle. Real smooth.
Matt’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise before his expression softened. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Frank’s as he took the bouquet. “Flowers? You’re full of surprises, Castle.”
“Don’t make it a thing,” Frank grumbled, looking anywhere but at Matt.
Matt chuckled, his thumb lightly brushing over one of the petals. “It’s a good thing.” He tilted his head, studying Frank’s face. “You okay? You seem... tense.”
“Tense? Nah, I’m fine,” Frank lied, his voice tight.
Matt smirked. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Frank huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m a little nervous.”
Matt stepped closer, his expression softening. “You don’t need to be nervous, Frank. It’s just me.”
“That’s kinda the problem,” Frank muttered under his breath, but Matt caught it anyway.
Matt reached out, his hand finding Frank’s forearm. “I’m pretty sure you’ve faced scarier things than me.”
“Yeah, but none of them looked like you,” Frank admitted before he could stop himself.
Matt blinked in surprise, and then a slow, warm smile spread across his face. “Frank, are you flirting with me?”
Frank groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe. Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t,” Matt teased, stepping back to let Frank in. “Come on. I thought we’d keep it simple—grab some dinner at a little Italian place I like.”
Frank followed him in, trying not to stare too obviously at the way Matt moved. But damn, it was hard not to. There was something effortless about him, something magnetic. Frank’s eyes traced the lines of Matt’s jaw, the curve of his smile, the way his sweater hugged his frame.
“Earth to Frank,” Matt said, his voice full of amusement.
Frank blinked, realizing too late that he’d been caught staring. “What?”
“You’ve been quiet,” Matt said, his smile softening. “More than usual.”
“Just thinkin’,” Frank replied gruffly, looking away.
“About?” Matt prompted, leaning slightly toward him.
Frank hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. “About how the hell I got so lucky.”
Matt’s expression softened further, his hand brushing against Frank’s arm as he said quietly, “You deserve this, Frank. You deserve to be happy.”
Frank didn’t trust himself to respond, so he just nodded, his throat tight.
The restaurant Matt chose was small and cozy, with warm lighting and the smell of fresh bread and garlic filling the air. They settled into a corner booth, and Frank found himself relaxing as the evening went on.
Frank tried to act unaffected, but his heart did a stupid little flip every time Matt laughed or leaned in closer.
God, Matt was beautiful. Frank had thought it before, of course, but seeing him like this—smiling, laughing, alive—it hit him like a punch to the gut.
“You’re staring again,” Matt said, his voice cutting through Frank’s thoughts.
Frank froze, his ears burning. “Am not.”
Matt smirked, leaning forward slightly. “You forget, Frank. I can hear your heartbeat. And right now? It’s loud.”
Frank glared at him, though there was no heat behind it. “You’re really enjoyin’ this, huh?”
Matt shrugged, feigning innocence. “A little.”
Shaking his head, Frank muttered, “You’re lucky you’re cute, Red.”
The words were out before he could stop them. Both men froze, and Frank immediately looked away, pretending to focus on his half-finished plate.
Matt, however, leaned back, his smirk softening into something warmer. “You think I’m cute?”
“Don’t push it,” Frank grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
Matt chuckled, reaching across the table to rest his hand on Frank’s. “It’s okay, Frank. I don’t mind.”
Frank swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to their hands. Matt’s touch was warm, grounding. For the first time in a long time, Frank felt like he belonged somewhere—like he wasn’t just surviving but actually living.
By the time they left the restaurant, the rainstorm had tapered off into a gentle drizzle. They walked back to Matt’s apartment in comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional car passing by.
When they reached Matt’s door, Frank hesitated.
“You coming in?” Matt asked, his voice soft.
Frank nodded, stepping inside. He shut the door behind them, and before he could overthink it, he reached out, pulling Matt into a gentle but firm kiss.
Matt melted against him, his hands finding Frank’s shoulders. When they finally pulled apart, Matt smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against Frank’s jaw.
“You’re not so scary after all,” Matt teased.
Frank huffed a laugh, his arms tightening around Matt. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
Matt laughed, and the sound filled the apartment, warm and bright. For the first time in what felt like forever, Frank felt at peace.
And maybe, just maybe, Frank was starting to believe that he deserved it, that he deserved Matt. Maybe, just maybe, he could have something real. And with Matt smiling in his arms like Frank was the best thing that had ever happened to him, he knew he made the right choice.