trustinthedevil | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who:

brutalize
When: Following this.

Maybe Matt's been in worse situations. Usually there's better reason for it than this, and it had taken a lot for him to accept defeat and get a hold of Frank. Because he knows Frank is going to hold this over his head for forever, and Matt already feels like Frank thinks he's awkward. This is just final nail in the coffin.

With his hand attached to the chair behind him, Matt figures he's not going anywhere. After his last text to Frank, he folds his legs up underneath him, and settles into a meditation routine. It's been a while since he's done it. May as well take the opportunity to clear his mind, right?

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Frank shows up fairly shortly after the text, with nothing extra on hand this time save the promised bolt cutters. He doesn't knock, he lets himself in with his key and watches Matt doing his Thing in amusement for a moment.

"Wake up, Red," he finally intones, toeing his boots off and tromping over, nudging his arm so he can get good angle on the chain to cut it in half. "So, gonna tell me why you're handcuffed to your own chair now?"

"I'm not sleeping," he says, not cracking his eyes open until Frank's beside him. Matt unfolds his legs and shifts, trying to wiggle life back into his arm.

"You didn't even give me a chance to try and distract you." Rude. "I did it for a case. Someone's saying they couldn't have done something because his significant other had handcuffed him to a chair, and I wanted to see if it was a legitimate excuse. Except that I dropped the key somewhere."

Frank laughs, dropping the bolt cutters down on the table. "Alright, not the most embarrassing reason," he guesses, crossing his arms and casting a curious glance around the floor for any glint of the metal key. "You could still try to distract me, if you wanted."

"I'm still pretty embarrassed."

He grins, though. Earning a laugh from Frank Castle - an earnest laugh - is like winning the lottery. But he can tell Frank's not looking at him, so he stretches out a leg to nudge Frank with his foot.

"I'm not sure if it's the same anymore. The truth is out and my arm is asleep."

Frank leans down and catches Matt's leg by the ankle when it nudges at him, holding onto it. After a second, he plucks at the thick, cushy fabric of Matt's socks with a smirk. Matt may try to get him to stop tucking his shirts in, but he's the one who tucks the bottoms of his sweatpants into his socks... "Your arm is asleep, huh? How long were you stuck here before you texted me?"

Matt flexes his foot at the hold, and the stretch it causes is pretty easy. All things considered, he could probably pretty comfortably sit like this with no complaints. It's a nice change from being stuck in the chair.

"Pretend for a moment that you wouldn't break your bones to free yourself, and think about how long it would take you to ask for help." They're both stubborn men. Matt has to try all his options before admitting he needs back up. At least he thinks he may actually win this case.

Huh. Frank's eyebrows inch up slightly and he doesn't let go of Matt's foot, just experimentally tugs it a touch higher to see where the devil's bendy limits might actually be.

Still, Matt has a point. Frank hums. "Did you figure your thing out while you were sitting here?"

The corners of Matt's mouth turn up a bit. He can't hide that he's amused, or, honestly, that he's a bit smug as Frank tests his limits. Well, tests. The slight raise may be trying for some people but it's easy for him. To show off, he brings it up more, beyond the prompting from Frank but not enough to be obnoxious.

"I did. It wasn't a total waste of my time."

Frank lets himself be distracted by that, slackening his grip but not quite dropping the devil's leg back down. "Just how far do you go, huh?"

Matt can practically hear the shift, noting how Frank's attention has shifted to this new topic. He shrugs, but his smile grows.

"Until I can't anymore?" He laughs and wiggles his toes. "Pretty far."

"That some shit you learned when you turned into a ninja, or what?" He hesitates, but then figuring Matt's answer for a challenge, pulls up the rest of the way until he meets resistance. And that's, wow. Not that he's thinking about what he can do with that level of bendy, but... he's thinking about what he can do with it. "Shit, Red."

Matt's used to doing it while standing, so he has to adjust himself in his chair to get a more optimal stretch. But, hey, he's not complaining. One more thing to tuck away about Frank Castle.

"More or less. Hard to do a good round house kick if you can't get your leg up." Or do a lot of the things Matt does. The suit doesn't allow for prime flexibility but maybe one day, it will. "I figure I'm at about the same level as an Olympic level gymnast." Give or take.

"I'm still stuck to this chair, Frank."

"Oh, are you?" Frank asks, in a mildly distracted tone of voice, but he's smirking. His fingers fan out over Matt's calf, sliding lower and lower towards his knee before he breathes in and out once, and then lets Matt's leg go.

Yep. That's filed away for later, at the very least.

He turns back towards the table so he can pick up the discarded bolt cutters. "Pull the chain taut, huh?"

Matt mimicks Frank's breath, an inhale and an exhale, letting his leg settle back on the floor. He shifts so he can stretch his arm, following Frank's instructions.

"You didn't bring Devildog." Too bad. Frank has no intentions to stick around after, probably.

Frank snips the handcuff chain in two with a grunt of effort, before offering a hand to help Matt up out of the chair. He's still got one ring of the handcuff around his wrist, but he'll have to find the key for that, wherever it went, because Frank still doesn't actually know how to break out of them. "Yeah well, you're making him fat. Don't think I don't know how many treats you sneak him when he's here."

"I am not making him fat."

Matt at least looks amused, though. He rolls his shoulder once he's standing up and tilts his head. "I think the key is somewhere nearby." In theory it won't be hard for Frank to find, unless he finds himsrlf distracted once again.

"You only say that because you can't see his fat ass," Frank insists, hooking the tip of a finger into the handcuff at Matt's wrist and leaning back against the table at the same time, tugging Matt into the space between his legs. Decidedly, you know, not expending any effort to look around for that key. "Where'd you get a pair of handcuffs anyway? Huh. Just had them lying around?"

Maybe he didn't bring the dog over for Reasons, Matt.

Matt huffs out a laugh, but he seems to have no problems with it, pressing his palms to Frank's chest as he leans into him. There are worse situations to find himself in.

"I'm resourceful," is the only explanation he gives. His lips quirk up into a smile before he presses them to the corner of Frank's mouth. "Thank you for coming to my rescue."

Frank laughs, his hands falling to rest on Matt's hips. He doesn't chase after Matt's mouth, but he definitely leans into the contact a little bit. "Find you in the weirdest positions every other Friday, it seems like." He teases, not sounding particularly reproachful about it, "You could just invite me over, huh?"

This is cozy. Sort of domestic and cutesy. Matt sort of likes it. He slides his own hands up over Frank's shoulders, shrugging a little.

"There's no fun in that. I need to keep you on your toes."

Sort of, what a ringing endorsement. Frank huffs, amusement quirking the corner of his mouth and drying out his tone. "You'll end up being the devil who cried wolf," he warns, fingers curling against the waistband of Matt's pants, and then sneaking up the material of his shirt to find the warm skin there. Matt's not drunk, Frank doesn't have anything planned, and he has been thinking about Matt's... request. More than he probably should.

"I'll deal with that when it happens."

Matt's not a planner, after all. Much to Frank's chagrin, he knows. He presses a smile into Frank's cheek. The touch sends a little tingle through Matt's skin and he makes a contented hum.

Frank turns his head so he can catch Matt's mouth with his own, soft and warm and pretty chaste, considering he's got his hands up the devil's shirt. He leans his forehead against Matt's to give himself enough room to talk. "I don't have anywhere to be tonight," he rumbles. He'd taken the dog on a last walk before leaving him in the apartment with a full bowl of food and a promise to be back around dawn. Because of course he would.

Matt's head tilts, just enough to bump their noses together while a lopsided smile crosses his face.

"Does that mean I get you all to myself for a while?" That's a pretty appealing night, Matt thinks. No bad guys, no fighting. They can almost even pretend to be normal. "Lucky me."

"If you don't have to go running off again," Frank laughs, remembering the last time they ended up tangled together on the couch. A night which ended, he recalls, with him falling asleep alone. It's not that he doesn't get it, he'll just take any opportunity to tease Matt. And he's not looking forward to if that becomes a common occurance at all. "I've been thinking about early birthday presents," he adds, clearly amused at his own joke enough to put off being tactlessly blunt for 20 seconds. Practically a miracle.

It takes a moment for Matt to clue in to what Frank means. When he does, the combination of the implication, the rumble of Frank's voice, and the very present warmth of hands on Matt's skin makes Matt's heart skip a beat. His head turns to the side to try and mask a blush combined with a surprised (albeit pleased) smile. He knew they'd get here eventually. Well, truthfully, he thought it'd take a little more getting to know one another. Then again, they have all night.

"I think you've got my full attention."

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