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Dex has always known there was something wrong with him.
In a way, knowing makes it easier. He had wasted a lot of time and energy when he was younger attempting to be something he wasn’t. Trying to fit in, to hide.
“Is that all you fucking got?” He manages to choke out in a breathy taunt. His voice is hoarse from the steel cable currently digging into his windpipe. He times it–waiting until he feels Murdock loosen his grip slightly as he adjusts his stance behind him–and then he rears back, catching the man full on the nose with the back of his hard skull.
Murdock hisses and stumbles back, the cord of his billy club that had been wrapped around Dex’s neck going slack.
Dex has barely a moment to catch his breath, slumping forward, panting for air, when Murdock is on him. Hot and heavy. Gripping his head from behind. Pushing him face down, down onto the concrete of the rooftop they are standing on.
Dex feels the blood, hot and thick and tangy, welling up from his nose, his mouth. Feels it coat his chin. Tastes it on his tongue.
He can’t help himself. He moans.
Murdock stiffens behind him. He’s got Dex on his knees, face down on the roof with his ass up. Like a bitch Dex thinks dizzily. Like some bitch in heat, presenting hole first. Murdock’s behind him, holding him down. Keeping him pinned with an arm over his back and grinding him face down onto the concrete. Dex can’t help but tilt his hips up. Can’t help but grind back against him a little, where he can feel the sharp bite of a pelvis pressing against his ass.
He’s always known there was something wrong with him.
Murdock grips his hair hard and yanks his head up and Dex takes a gasping, choking breath, both at the rough treatment and at the fact that he is getting a faceful of air for the first time of what feels like the hours that he and Daredevil have been fighting each other on this rooftop.
He’s dirty, and he’s sore, and he’s hurt–face a bloody mess, a welt line around his neck, no doubt bruises on his knees–and he feels so alive and on edge he thinks he might be about to come in his fucking pants.
He’s certainly hard enough to. He can feel himself pressing against the front of his heavy cargo pants, straining at the zipper.
Dex has a big cock. Which is pretty ironic, considering that he never fucking uses it. Or at least, he doesn’t use it for its intended purpose.
You want me to do what to you? The girl he had taken home from the bar had sounded appalled. Appalled and disgusted, right before she had gathered up her things and flounced out of Dex’s apartment. Fucking freak.
He pushes his ass back, digging it into Murdock’s crotch, and–oh fuck yes–the man responds, thrusting against him, pushing his face back down against the dirty rooftop even harder.
“I told you not to come into this territory.” Oh Murdock sounds pissed. Well and truly pissed. “I told you what would happen if you did it again. What did I say would happen, Benjamin?”
Dex bites his bottom lip to stop the whine that wants to escape at the sound of his given name in the other man’s mouth. Murdock’s the only one that ever calls him Benjamin. Not Dex, not Poindexter, not Bullseye. Benjamin. Like he’s Dex’s teacher. Stern, but kind. He wants to teach him a lesson but only because he’s trying to help him, to make him a better man.
Dex doesn’t want to be a better man. He wants Murdock to roll his shirtsleeves up his forearms and bend him over his desk and give him a fucking spanking for acting out. And then he wants him to press himself back against the bruises and fuck him until Dex can no longer take it. Until he can’t think anymore. Until he can’t even remember his own damn name. He’ll let Murdock call him anything he wants–anything–just as long as he promises to give Dex what he currently feels pressing up against his ass.
Dex is broken out of his thoughts by Murdock grinding his nose harder into the concrete, like he’s disciplining a dog, putting him facedown in his own mess. “Answer me.”
“You told me you’d kick my ass.” Dex slurs out. His mouth is so full of blood the words come out garbled.
He’s abruptly yanked back up, onto his knees, and Daredevil comes around to stand in front of him.
Dex looks up at him blearily through one eye, the other long since swollen shut.
“You just love pissing me off, don’t you?” Murdock doesn’t sound disgusted. He sounds conversational, like how Dex imagines he must be with his clients in his law office. “Do you know the meaning of the word ‘no,’ Benjamin?”
Yes Mr. Murdock. Dex says mockingly in his head. Out loud he says. “Yes.”
“Then tell me why the fuck–” Murdock takes one of his billy clubs and presses it directly against the center of Dex’s forehead, using it for emphasis. “--I’m here, on a Tuesday night, fighting you instead of out doing my job?”
Dex tries to think of a snarky retort. He values his and Murdock’s back and forth, he really does. Except these types of verbal sparring matches aren’t really his forte. He hadn’t done too badly in school, but he wasn’t a super genius or anything. It had been difficult for him to concentrate through the haze of pills he had been on. So that you won’t act out, Dr. Mercer had said.
Dex tries to think of a retort. His mind is blank.
So instead he rears back and spits, directly at Murdock, blood and saliva and probably some snot where he can feel the blood leaking from his nose.
Murdock’s reaction is immediate. He rears back as though Dex has struck him, and then he backhands him across the face. Hard.
Dex’s head snaps to the side, a clean motion.
He doesn’t have time to register if he falls or not, because Murdock is on him, shoving him to the ground, sitting on top of his chest. And then he does some fancy maneuver with his billy clubs that Dex can’t even begin to follow, and Dex’s arms are pinned to his sides, and he’s wrigging like a bug on its back, bucking frantically, trying to dislodge Murdock’s heavy weight.
“Oh you little brat.” Murdock seethes. And oh he’s fucking done it now. Murdock’s patience has run out.
He knows what comes next.
Murdock pins his face back with a gloved hand clamped around his mouth, and then he’s jerking Dex’s pants open, yanking them and his boxers down his thighs. Dex’s cock springs free, hard and leaking in the cool night air, and then Murdock’s hand goes to the buckle of his own suit, unbuckling it and taking himself out.
Dex feels his mouth water at the sight. Murdock’s got a pretty cock–there’s no other word to describe it. Nice and long and thick, but not too much. Cut, curving up toward his abs and wet and pink and shiny at the tip. Dex doesn't know what he wants more, to taste it in his mouth, or to feel it in his ass.
He doesn’t get to decide. Murdock takes his hand off of Dex’s mouth, and then slaps him again. And then again. Hard smacks that make Dex’s ears ring. He uses the flat part of his hand, like Dex is some unruly bitch that he’s bringing to heel instead of a deadly and trained fighter. Dex feels his molars, slippery with blood, sliding around in his mouth, and thinks that a few of his teeth might be knocked loose.
Murdock takes his hand away and replaces it with his cock, smearing it through the mess of blood and drool on Dex’s face.
He fists Dex’s hair in his other hand and pulls his head back, exposing his throat, making his mouth open. He doesn’t need to do it, Dex’s mouth was already opening for him, tongue poking out, desperate to taste him.
“Oh you’ve got nothing to say now?” Murdock hisses above him. He rubs his tip along Dex’s mouth, dipping it in briefly before pulling it back out, and Dex pants, open mouthed, trying to lift his head, trying to get any leverage he can. His arms are pinned at his sides and Murdock is sitting on his chest and his hand is gripping his hair so tightly that it's making Dex’s scalp sing.
Murdock rubs the tip across his mouth again, and oh he’s fucking teasing him with it, knows how badly Dex wants it, must be able to sense how he’s open-mouthed and drooling.
Murdock finally, finally takes pity on him and puts the tip in his mouth, where Dex latches onto it, wrapping his lips around it and suckling it as exuberantly as he can. He tastes the burst of saltiness on his tongue and whines, lapping at the slit, trying to get more.
“Aww sweetheart, is this what you wanted?” Murdock coos down at him. His hand is still fisted in Dex’s hair, stopping him from lifting his head, to take more of him into his mouth. “You wanted a cock in your mouth? Is that it?”
Dex can’t answer, so he just moans around Murdock’s tip, and he sees the man’s jaw clench. He’s still wearing his helmet. He’s fully clothed, but for his cock being out and so is Dex, except for the pants and boxers that are currently bunched around his ankles. He can feel pebbles from the roof sticking to his bare ass and the air is cold on his overheated skin.
Dex wonders what Murdock is going to do to him. Sometimes, if Dex is being really bad, really pushing his buttons, he’ll shove Dex face down onto his belly and he’ll fuck him, hard and fast and rough. Sometimes he’ll take him standing up, bent over the back of a dumpster, or braced against a wall, keeping his wrists pinned above his head while he grinds into him in some dirty alley way.
He never leaves Dex’s hands free when he uses him like this, he always has him pinned down. Dex isn’t exactly complaining, but he wonders why Murdock does it. Does he think that Dex will try to fight him? When the man has his cock in his ass or down his throat and is actively giving it to him?
Maybe he thinks that he can’t have him unless he has Dex pinned down. Or maybe, he thinks, maybe Murdock likes him this way. Likes him helpless and wriggling underneath him. Somehow he doubts that Murdock does this type of thing with any of the bar floozies he brings home. He probably calls them a cab after, walks them down to the street, all gentlemen-like. Gives them a kiss before promising to call them and sending them on their way, never to hear from him again.
Maybe, he thinks, Murdock is just as fucked in the head as him, in his own way. Maybe he needs this just as much as Dex does, for all that he’ll never admit to it. Maybe this, all of the fighting and the pinning him down and the rough treatment, is just an excuse so that Murdock can get to what he really wants, which is Dex, bent over for him. His cock in Dex’s mouth.
Dex feels a brief flutter in his lower belly at the thought, before he immediately squashes it back down. Foolishly sentimental. Dr. Mercer’s voice says in his head. The patient is suffering delusions. Recommendation: increased medication and monitoring.
He squirms on his back, purely to feel the heavy weight on his chest and the cables holding him down, and moans around Murdock’s tip, sucking it like a pacifier. He sees Murdock’s nostrils flare.
“If you want a cock down your throat that badly then I’m going to give it to you.” Murdock says down at him. “If you even think about using your teeth, I’ll come on your face instead of in your mouth like I know you like. Nod if you understand.”
Dex nods frantically, drooling.
Murdock tilts Dex’s head back even further, tipping his mouth open wide, and then he pushes himself in, hitting the back of Dex’s throat so fast that Dex chokes, gurgling.
“Be quiet.” Murdock tells him. “Someone will hear you.”
And then he leans forward over Dex’s head, bracing himself on his hands above him so that he is effectively on all fours, and starts fucking his mouth.
He’s not going slow. He’s not being gentle. He’s thrusting into Dex’s throat like it’s a sleeve made special just for him, uncaring of the way that Dex is gagging around the hard length.
All Dex can do is lie there and take it. He can’t move his arms or his head. But luckily for him, Dex is pretty good at taking it. He opens his mouth as much as he is able, keeping his tongue back and his teeth out of the way, just like he has been trained.
It’s fucking brutal nonetheless. Murdock is truly fucking his mouth, thrusting his hips in a way that makes Dex’s balls ache, imagining how it must look from the outside. Daredevil using him like a warm, wet hole for his own pleasure. Dex has to focus to make sure that he doesn’t choke on the saliva that is rapidly filling his mouth, swallowing compulsively around Murdock’s dick. He feels it when Murdock’s hips stutter and he lets out a huffing grunt, so he does it again, and again, swallowing around the man inside of him.
“Fuck.” Murdock pants out. His voice is low, intimate, and it makes Dex choke, gasping a little for air that he can’t get. “Just like that Benjamin. So good.”
Dex whines, voice muffled. He can’t help it. He lifts his head imploringly, or as much as he can, which is not much, trying to get Murdock even deeper down his throat. He feels Murdock’s cock brush against the back of his tonsils and he gags so hard that for a second he is worried that he might actually vomit.
Immediately Murdock places his hand back over Dex’s forehead, pushing him back down. He leaves it there, and Dex feels him pull back slightly, until only the tip is still left in his mouth.
No no no no no. Dex whines, shaking his head, attempting to push forward. He knows he’s being pathetic, but he’s beyond caring. Murdock is going to leave. He’s not going to finish, he’s going to tuck himself back into his pants and leave Dex here on this roof unsatisfied and hard and he’s going to be so displeased with him.
He fucked up.
“Settle.” Murdock tells him, and Dex stills, gulping for air.
Murdock waits until he has stopped moving, though he is still vibrating with tension, and then he speaks.
“Are you going to be good and take what I give you?” Murdock asks.
Dex can’t speak so he only nods, blinking his eyes rapidly at the sweat and blood tickling his eyelashes.
“Yes?” Murdock’s gloved thumb brushes against his cheekbone, almost subconsciously. He wonders if Murdock even realizes that he is doing it. “You’re not going to be greedy and hurt yourself?”
Dex shakes his head.
“Good.” Murdock says. It’s unfair how calm he sounds right now, like he isn’t kneeling practically on Dex’s face with his tip in his mouth while Dex is hard and straining underneath him. “Now stay still. I will not tell you again. Nod if you understand.”
Dex nods.
He sees Murdock’s mouth curve up into a smile. “Good boy.” He says. And then he takes his hand off of Dex’s face, and leans back over him, pushing his cock back down his throat.
This time Dex doesn’t move. He’s being good. He’s being so good that Murdock moans, his hips starting to stutter as he thrusts into Dex’s willing mouth, over and over.
“God.” Murdock rasps. “You like this? You like me breeding your throat like this?”
Dex whimpers. He’s so hard that it hurts, and his hips keep twitching up uselessly, thrusting into nothing. He wants Murdock to touch him, or to let Dex touch himself. He’s so on edge that it wouldn’t take much, just something. Please, god, anything.
“Fuck.” Murdock grits out above him. His thrusts are starting to go short and jerky, and Dex knows what’s about to happen before it happens. He swallows again–just once–and Murdock makes a low sound in the back of his throat and pushes in deep. And then Dex feels it, the pulse, and his mouth abruptly fills with warm, salty come.
Dex chokes, attempting to swallow it back. Murdock normally comes right down the back of his throat when he uses his mouth like this, but he must have been taken unawares by his orgasm because Dex is swimming in it. It spills out of his mouth, dripping out of the corners of his lips, running down his chin. He can feel it pooling in the hollow of his collarbone. He tries to swallow as much as he can, but he can’t get it all, and he feels a squirm of worry in his gut. Maybe Murdock won’t like it, that Dex wasn’t able to take it all.
Murdock is gasping over him, on his hands and knees, panting like he’s just sprinted a mile. “Oh Christ.” He groans. “Benjamin, Jesus Christ.”
Dex makes a sound, and Murdock immediately straightens up. He seems to take stock of the situation–his now softening cock in Dex’s mouth–and he swiftly pulls out and tucks himself back into his suit.
He looks…completely normal. A normal night for Daredevil, out on patrol, while Dex is still hog tied and naked from the waist down, his pants around his ankles, his still hard cock leaking against his stomach, his face an absolute mess of blood and snot and come.
“Sorry–” Dex gasps out as soon as his mouth is free. He can barely see, his hair is flopping over his eyes. “Sorry, I couldn’t get it all. Sorry, sorry–”
Murdock pulls him to sit up, Dex still babbling, and pulls him over his lap, ass up, on his knees.
“Hush.” Murdock places a gloved hand on his bare ass, and Dex flinches automatically. He wonders if he’s going to get a spanking.
It would be enough to get him off. Probably.
Then Murdock’s other hand comes around to his cock and Dex almost sobs with relief as he starts stroking it. He’s wearing his gloves and the material pulls at the sensitive skin but he doesn’t even care. He wiggles, attempting to thrust forward into Murdock’s hand, but he’s still tied up and he’s over Murdock’s lap and he can’t get any leverage.
Murdock taps him on the ass, just once, almost gently. It’s a love tap compared to what Dex knows the man is capable of, but he stills all the same, shuddering.
“Don’t always assume that I am displeased with you.” Murdock says quietly. He circles a finger around Dex’s hole, and Dex startles so hard that he jolts. “I will let you know when I am unhappy, alright?”
Dex nods, and then gasps as Murdock presses the pad of his finger more firmly against his hole, playing with it. He is stroking him fast and hard, jerking him off into his fist, while his finger exerts gentle pressure, and oh that’s it, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s–
Dex comes so hard that he doesn’t even cry out, just shudders over Murdock’s lap and then goes limp, collapsing into a heap like a weary animal.
Murdock takes his hand away from his cock but he keeps his finger on his hole, still moving in a slow, gentle circle.
“There you go.” He hums. “Do you feel better now?”
After a moment, Dex nods. He feels sluggish and woozy in comparison to the bright, sharp feeling he had had earlier when he and Murdock had been fighting. His brain feels like it’s been stuffed full of bees, but it doesn’t feel bad or wrong like it usually does. It feels sort of nice, like he’s wearing noise canceling headphones and is underneath a heavy blanket. He feels loose and floaty. Warm and safe.
He drifts in that cottony feeling until he feels Murdock shifting underneath him.
Murdock pulls Dex’s pants up for him and buckles them and then he unties the ropes. As soon as his arms are free Dex immediately starts attempting to rub some feeling back into them. He is still sitting on the rooftop, fully clothed now but blinking stupidly out in front of him, while Daredevil is standing a few paces away, head tilted in his direction. Dex wonders what he’s listening to.
Murdock is frowning slightly. “Go straight home.” He tells Dex. His voice is firm. “I don’t want to see you back out here tonight.”
Dex wants to make some quip about how Murdock can’t see him at all, but his tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, so all he does is say, “ok.”
Murdock turns to leave, and then he hesitates, turning back around to face him.
Dex eyes him curiously. This is new. Usually after their encounters Murdock gives him a brusque farewell and leaves without any ceremony. Dex doesn’t mind. He’s used to it.
“You know–” Murdock says. Then stops. He runs his tongue over his teeth. It looks like he is debating something. “You know there are other ways to get my attention, don’t you? Other than coming into my territory and picking fights.”
Dex blinks at him. His brain must still be slow, because he has no idea what Murdock is talking about. “...I’m not trying to get your attention.”
Murdock levels a look at him that Dex can’t make out. “Right.” He says. “Benjamin–” Dex ducks his head. Murdock sighs, and rubs idly at the back of his helmet.
“I’m going to give you my number.” Murdock says abruptly. “My burner number. Text it if you need…Just text it. We’ll meet up somewhere, I don’t know, a hotel or something.”
“A hotel?” Dex says in confusion. “Oh no. That won’t be necessary. Outside is fine.”
“I know you think it’s fine.” Murdock’s voice is a little short. “But sometimes I want to fuck you on a bed, and not on a dirty rooftop.”
Dex opens his mouth. Closes it. He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just says, “ok.”
Murdock gives him his number in a low, clear voice while Dex enters it into his phone with clumsy fingers. When he is finished he has Dex read it back to him so that he is satisfied that he did it correctly, and then he stops, tilting his head at him again. “What did you list my number as in your phone?”
“Um, Murdock?” Dex says. “Why, did you want me to give you a code name or something?”
Murdock snorts at that. He’s grinning at him, and Dex feels slightly off kilter, like he did back at school and at the FBI Academy, like everyone else is in on some joke that he’s not. He doesn’t like it, and the thread of anxiety that is seemingly looped continuously around his neck, tightens.
“I’m not laughing at you Benjamin.” Murdock says. “Well, I am, a little bit. Just…you can call me Matt, ok? Not Murdock. Just Matt.”
“Matt...” Dex says slowly, trying it out. “Ok. Matt.”
Murd–Matt, smiles at him, and Dex doesn’t think that he is mocking him, but sometimes it’s hard for him to tell these sorts of things. “Ok.” He says simply.
He really does leave after that, and Dex does too after a while, walking slowly home toward his apartment.
He keeps his hand in his pocket on the way home, wrapped around his phone like a talisman that can ward off evil. His thoughts are spinning, but his body feels calm in the way it only does after his meet ups with Murd–Matt.
He’ll have to get used to calling the man that in his head from now on, he thinks, as he unlocks his apartment and hears his cat meowing at him in greeting.
He turns the name around in his brain, worrying it smooth like a pebble on the beach. He likes the way it sounds in his head, in his mouth.
Matt, Matt, Matt.
Fin