The first thing he remembered was pain. That sort of all-encompassing, overwhelming, world-blinding one that tore through your insides and left you gasping for air nowhere to be found. He was no stranger to pain and always welcomed it with open arms - his childhood and adolescence at K’un-Lun were messed up like that. He was well aware of his masochistic tendencies, too. Then came the flashes of what transpired earlier: rapid, ghost-like images that disappeared just as quickly as they popped into his head, adding to the utter confusion of his state. Mary, a not-so-innocent artist, taking him out with impressive moves and some sort of a drug. Waking up tied up to a post. Strange-looking women performing a ritual and cutting through his abdomen. A searing agony accompanied by an unknown feeling of loss and the sense of utter wrongfulness. Coming to after a shot of epinephrine on a bench, bloodied and bruised. Getting knocked down by a wrench and chained by some street kids/thugs (who knew the difference anymore).Trying and repeatedly failing to get free, coughing up blood, passing out more battered than before. Realizing he no longer had the power of Iron Fist. Thinking he was not gonna make it this time around. Almost losing a couple of fingers after a failed attempt at enticing kids/thugs with money he didn't even have on him. Sounds of bodies falling to the ground, more confusion. A familiar voice calling out his name. Matt... Matt???
Danny surged forward on whatever surface he was lying on and doubled back in pain. A firm but gentle hand maneuvered him back onto the bed.
“Easy, Danny, not so fast. You were completely out of it for a while, I was worried.” Matt readily admitted, standing up to get a damp cloth.
Danny blindly reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don't go!” he urged, agitated. “Please. I...,” he gulped, at a loss for words.
Matt obediently sat down on the chair, not trying to break their handholding.
Danny's mind was racing a mile a minute, the fact that his headache was killing him and he was sore all over didn't help. Even seeing Daredevil, no, just Matt here, with his own two eyes, he couldn't quite let hope pull at his heartstrings just yet.
“Is that really you?” he asked, well aware of how stupid that question must have sounded after everything that transpired last night.
A small, but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Matt's lips, no judgment or attempt at ridicule to be seen.
“Yes,” he stated simply, no usual quirky comeback. And even if he wanted to add some, Danny didn't give him any chance, surging forward again and crushing him in a hug. Crushing might have been a strong word, considering he immediately groaned in agony, yet didn't loosen the grip. Had he been in any condition to move properly, he would have let his hands roam all over Matt's upper body, just to be sure he was indeed tangible and very much alive. Matt's smile grew bigger and fonder and he carefully reciprocated, holding Danny as close as it was safe for his injuries, unwilling to break the hug by force. The genuine affection he felt emanating from Danny warmed his heart.
Danny seemed to have remembered that he had been squeezing Matt for an embarrassingly long time and slowly withdrew from their embrace. He would berate himself for it later. Now all he wanted to do was hear Matt's story. He had always been fascinated by Daredevil's character, but the person behind the mask excited him no less, or even more so. The fact that Matt did all of these incredible things while being blind never ceased to amaze him. One could say he was star-struck the moment their paths crossed. This was just another miracle the extraordinary Daredevil managed to pull off. And he was so damn happy he did. Elated, even. Nothing else, be it his injuries, the gang war, or even losing his essence, mattered at that moment.
“But how are you even...,” he whispered.
“Oh, it's a long story, trust me. The short version of it is that I almost died, and shattered my spine in the process. I've been recovering at the orphanage for some time now. Still don't feel quite like myself, though.” Matt quirked his lips, a bit self-deprecatingly.
“Jeez,” Danny winced and shuddered just thinking about what it must have been like to experience, “and you took out all of those guys after an injury like that? You've got some self-esteem issues, my friend,” he tried to lighten the mood and wipe that frown between Matt's eyebrows.
“Tell me something I don't know, Danny. Besides, they were just kids. I get my ass whooped by thugs on a regular basis now, and that is a simple fact,“ he gestured at his body to illustrate the point he was making.
Danny blinked a couple of times to clear his vision and looked at Matt more carefully. He was covered in cuts and bruises, some were old and almost healed, others - fresh and bleeding. And those were just visible parts of his body, not hidden by sweatpants and a tank top he was wearing.
“Shit, Matt,” his voice came out rough and hoarse, caused by thirst and worry.
“Let me get you some water.” Matt promptly stood up. “I'll be right back,” he added as an afterthought, for Danny's sake moreso than his own.
Danny sagged back into the mattress. It pained him to see Matt in such a shape, some sharp unfamiliar edges protruding from his already battered soul. He was dealt another all too vivid reminder of how mortal they were, vulnerable in their breakable skin. If it hadn't been for Matt, he wouldn't be sitting here now. Danny owed him another one, not that Matt would ever come to collect on those. He was too noble for that. He sighed, feeling emotionally drained. Today had been nothing but a whirlwind of bad, very bad, even worse, and then incredibly good. He needed to take stock of his own injuries and learn how to exist without Iron Fist. No sweat.
Matt returned with a glass of water, a first aid kit, and a rag.
“I stopped the bleeding and stitched you up last night, so you should be good to take a shower if you want to later,” Matt said, having waited till Danny gulped down a glass of water. “I'll just check on the stitches and take care of your minor injuries first, alright?” He pressed a palm to Danny's forehead, effectively silencing whatever he was about to comment.
“Your fever seems to be broken, so that's good. You were burning up pretty bad,” he added, getting to work.
Danny shivered, feeling the damp cloth on his skin.
“Which reminds me - how did you even find me? For a minute there I thought I was a goner,” Danny admitted, surprisingly candid even for him, what with all the bravado he usually hid behind.
Matt frowned ever so slightly - Danny he knew didn't have any issues with self-esteem. Truth be told, he was in very bad shape but hadn't they all had a terrible day every now and then? There must be something else to this, then.
“I was on my way to canvass the neighborhood when I sensed a familiar heartbeat.” Danny felt his face go red. That sounded more intimate than Matt probably meant for it to be. “You radiated pain and distress, (“Some sort of grief at one point too,” he thought but did not say out loud), so I came to check what happened. Glad I did, too. Rough night, huh?” he smiled sympathetically, dousing the swaps in antiseptic and going through whatever non-life threatening injuries he missed last time.
“Yeah,” Danny hissed in pain, “you could say that. I was ambushed by a girl, only she wasn't just a girl, she was a psycho assassin or something, I'm still not sure about that part. And then Davos — someone who I considered my brother for a long time — performed a ritual on me and took the Fist,” his voice grew from loud, angry, and agitated, to barely a whisper, low, broken, and sad again. Danny was surprised at how effortlessly he blurted out the shameful truth. Something about Matt made it so easy to confide in him and talk to him without the usual bullshit and half-assed lies. He trusted him implicitly, even more than he knew himself.
Matt didn't even try to hide his bewilderment. When he first met Danny, he couldn't be bothered to believe in all the batshit crazy things he was telling about where he trained, how he got his powers, and his mission. Now, though, he was shocked to discover they could even be taken away in the first place. Judging by the state he found him in the ritual was quite barbaric and cruel. Matt felt anger flair up in him again and focused on the stitches instead. That's what he felt was so off about Danny. This mystical energy he now knew resided in him was gone.
“Took it? Is that even possible?” he was asking a moot question, clearly, it was possible if Danny didn't have it anymore.
“Up until last night, I didn't think so. And yet, here I am, powerless and useless. Davos was right,” he smiled ruefully and self-deprecatingly. “I didn't deserve to be the immortal Iron Fist. And now I can't be either way.”
“Hey now, stop that. I'm not the best at giving pep talks and God knows I don't think much of myself, but whoever did this to you clearly isn't one to talk about who deserves what. Especially if you say he used to be your brother. In my experience, that's not how you treat your family.”
Danny sighed wistfully, squirming slightly under Matt's ministrations. “He thinks I betrayed him when I left K’un-Lun, or, as he says, abandoned it and him. Maybe I did,” he added, uncertainty lacing his voice. “I always believed I was following the path I was meant to be on, which is why I came to New York, but who knows what anymore. Anyway…,” he cut himself short unwilling to delve into one of the long self-reflecting speeches in front of Matt again. He could be at it for hours, and they both were too tired and strung out to handle it. “When I came to, Mary, this psycho girl, dropped me on a bench in the neighborhood, and when I came looking for help, I stumbled upon these kids you found me with. They wanted to fish money or anything valuable out of me, but I didn't have any on me, so...,” he trailed off, remembering how he almost lost his fingers if it hadn’t been for Matt. “Thank you for saving me. I don't think I said it yet,” he added. Voicing his gratefulness wasn't his strong suit.
“No need to thank me, that's what friends are for, yeah?” Done with the stitches, he moved on to applying some salve on the particularly nasty bruises. “Besides, you kept my city safe while I was... indisposed, so it's me who should be thanking you.”
Danny suddenly felt warm. Matt noticed that he took their last conversation seriously. In truth, he was honored to pick up the mantle. He just wished the circumstances hadn’t been so tragic.
“You know, I was so angry with you, at first.”
“Yeah, why is that?” Matt asked, working a particularly nasty bruise. Danny held back a groan. Matt's touches weren't exactly cautious or light, but they were tender, not just perfunctory. He cared. And Danny suddenly found himself craving more of these touches, preferably in a more intimate and less life-threatening setting. The thought was unusual and at the same time not really. He was no stranger to feeling attracted to both men and women, even though he rarely, if ever, acted upon those feelings. The circumstances were less than freeing and encouraging.
Matt couldn't help but notice the spike of arousal in Danny, his usual pleasant smell getting muskier. Writing it off as his thinking of his girlfriend’s — what was her name again, ah, Colleen — he continued to rub a soothing ointment onto his battered skin.
“Because of how you sacrificed yourself!” Danny exclaimed, agitated for a different reason now. He shuddered, remembering how he stood there and watched a building collapse on top of his friend, burying him in a man-made grave. “You were never planning on getting back to us,” he added accusingly. “I still can't believe how you could think so little of yourself.”
Matt chuckled, humorlessly. “Well, I’m alive, aren't I? Though I admit, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Honestly, for once in my life I wanted to be selfish, to choose something for myself, to choose love,” his voice faltered at the last word. “I was stupid enough to think I could convince Elektra to do the same. When that didn't work, well, I was out of options. I knew you'd keep the city safe, so at least I didn't have that on my conscience.”
“Hey,” Danny reached out to cover Matt's hand with his own and squeeze it briefly. “Love is not stupid. Neither is hope. Sometimes it's all we have left.” He let go of Matt's hand, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Honestly, I felt honored watching over New York. I just really wished you hadn’t died for it to happen.”
Danny, for the umpteenth time, since he had been awake, felt raw and exposed, strung out with intense emotions and the desire to share them all with this incredible man. It was safe to assume his ‘slight childish crush’ on Matt as he dubbed it to himself once or twice when it reared its head was back, in full swing. And the messy breakup with Colleen, still fresh in his memory, only added fuel to the fire.
Unbeknownst to Danny, Matt was experiencing an emotional turmoil of his own. He forgot how overwhelming honesty could be. And Danny was one of the most open and sincere people he knew, wearing his heart on his sleeve more often than not. It was refreshing and for whatever reason he was having a weird reaction to it. He wished he could read his own feelings and emotions as easily as he could do the others. He owed him a portion of the truth at the very least.
“You know, most people wouldn't have jumped at the idea of having another burden on their shoulders. But you just accepted it, no questions asked. You really are special, Danny Rand, the Immortal Iron Fist or not. And I'm grateful for it,” Matt said, plain and simple.
Danny blushed profusely. This kind of talk only rekindled his simmering desire to do something about his crush, something undoubtedly foolish. Before he could stumble his way through a quick comeback, though, Matt saved him the embarrassment of retort by withdrawing his hands and standing up.
“Anyway, I'm just about done with your injuries.” He moved to pack up the kit. “Take it easy for a couple of days, you know the drill, and you'll be good as new,” he smiled. “Also, not to be that guy, but I didn't exactly feel comfortable letting your girlfriend know about what happened, so you should probably call her.”
“Ah, there's no need. Colleen and I actually broke up,” Danny explained, and found no bitterness, self-pity, or regret in him. He must have accepted it, then.
Matt's brows shot up briefly in surprise. “Oh. Problem solved then,” he added smoothly. “Need a hand to get to the shower?”
Danny hesitated. “I wouldn't want to impose, I took too much of your time already.”
“Consider today my day off. Besides,” he added in a more serious tone, “I don't particularly recommend moving around too much for at least another 24 hours. You were in a pretty bad shape.”
“Alright then, lead the way.” Danny took the hand offered to him and, slowly, they headed towards the bathroom, his left arm wound around Matt's shoulders and Matt's right one wrapped around Danny's torso. The close proximity sent goosebumps all over him, and Danny, wishing to calm his traitorous body, circled back to a safe territory of Colleen.
“She was not a fan of me carrying your mantle, you know, Colleen.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Said I should focus on my own path or something like that.”
“Obviously, you didn't listen to her,” Matt concluded, steering him in the right direction.
“Obviously. I’m very stubborn,” Danny smirked.
“Are you now?” Matt readily slipped into the banter. “I do vaguely recall you getting into a fight with all of us to prove a point.”
“That's because you were all wrong,” he retorted.
“Indeed we were. I'm sorry our decision almost cost you your life back then.” Matt never had a chance to apologize before, might as well do it now.
“Water under the bridge.” Danny smiled slightly.
“Let me grab you a change of clothes and a spare towel, give me a second,” Matt said, directing Danny to lean on the wall.
Danny sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. It was all starting to feel a bit too much. He was losing control over his body and its reactions, all the years of training in K’un-Lun flowing out of the window. This Matt, domestic, not clad in leather or wielding a deadly weapon, was tugging on his heartstrings even more than his Daredevil persona. Here, in the confines of his flat, with his guard down, he was so damn irresistible. And Danny was growing tired of fighting that desire, even though he knew it was a terrible idea.
“Here you go.” Matt, once again, managed to sneak up on him.
“Thanks,” Danny said, reaching out for the towel and grabbing Matt's hand holding one instead. It looked like his body moved almost of its own accord, with total disregard for what the rational part of his brain was telling him not to do.
Matt tilted his head in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Something very stupid,” Danny replied, surging forward and capturing Matt's lips with his own. Matt tasted like orange juice and rejection. After a few excruciatingly slow and painful seconds of foolish hope for reciprocity, Danny let him go. Not that this turn was unexpected, yet it still stung.
“That was embarrassing,” Danny huffed a forced chuckle. He was starting to blabber, which was his go-to card when he was too uncomfortable. “I don't even know why I thought you'd be attracted to me, glad that's out of the question now.”
“Danny.” Matt finally spoke after what felt like ages of silence. “Everyone's attracted to you, you're a very attractive man,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Danny sensed his face go red again, flustered by the compliment. “Everyone except for you I take it?”
Matt suddenly felt stupid having this conversation while holding a bunch of garments and a bath towel, so he threw them aside in the general direction of a nearby chair and stepped closer.
“To be fair, you didn't give me a lot of time to react.” He cupped Danny's face with his right hand. “Everyone means everyone,” Matt smirked, leaning in and kissing Danny, properly this time. The first kiss they shared stirred some feelings he didn't have time to dwell on earlier and made him want to be brave too. He wasn’t in the habit of rushing into things like this, but with Danny, it happened naturally. This kiss was different, hot, heated with pent-up desire on both sides, intoxicating. Both gave as good as they got, unwilling to let the other one go or put a distance between them. Matt's hand was caressing Danny's face, while Danny tangled his fingers in Matt's hair. After what felt like a blissful eternity, they parted to catch some air. The arousal Matt now clearly sensed coursing through Danny's body doubled his own, and he had to remind himself to take it easy, considering the injuries that were yet to heal. Having him so close, half-naked, and breathing heavily, he wanted nothing more than to ravish him.
“Now I believe you.” Danny flashed a radiant smile. “I'm also curious: how do you know if I'm attractive?”
“Normal people judge others by their looks, for me, it's the smell.”
“And what do I smell like?” Danny wondered, intrigued.
Matt leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Like someone I want to take apart bit by bit, thoroughly, methodically, until I hear you moan my name with pleasure, over and over again.”
Danny shivered, his arousal spiking even more. “Then do it.”
“We should take it slow today,” Matt reiterated the point he made earlier. “Although I can think of a few activities we can do while you're on the mend.” He gently pushed Danny through the bathroom door, chasing his lips again.