He gets what Matt is doing, likely worrying even more, but Frank can't blame him. His back is pretty fucked up, even though he can push through it and pretend he isn't feeling it.
"You're always welcome to wear my clothes," he says with a possessive little grip of Matt's hips. "But I figured you'd want something that didn't smell like me too now and then. Even if you look great in black."
Boy, if Frank likes how Matt looks in black, does Matt have a nice surprise in store for him. It turns out, it's incredibly helpful to be in the good books of people who specialize in superhero costumes.
For now, though, nuzzles into Frank's neck.
"I like the way you smell." Matt presses a kiss to the scar there before lifting his head back up, giving Frank's hip a pat. "Don't worry. I'm taking care of it. Do I have to knock you out or are you going to go lie down?"
Frank squints a bit when Matt says he's taking care of it, but he's so tired... he'll deal with it tomorrow. He hauled ass here after enduring everything, not daring sleep in that damn cage, and pain is still throbbing all over. Being home here with Matt feels like the first time he's been able to relax since before this mess all started.
He hums at the kiss to his scar, inhaling sharply, but yeah- he should rest. Hands squeeze Matt one more time before he steps back to start kicking his boots off, not bothering with his pants as he hobbles to the futon.
"Just a few hours," he confirms, shaking his head at the fact that there's an actual bed in his place now, but... it's admittedly nice. They don't have to huddle up on a tiny cot the way they have been. Frank sits down and the futon creaks, making him laugh under his breath.
"Yeah, this thing isn't gonna make it." But he's lying back soon after, an obnoxiously loud groan escaping him as he does and throws an arm over his eyes.
Matt does feel a little bit pleased to get even a small reaction from Frank, but he'd rather Frank recover. He snorts when Frank gets cozy.
"Shut up."
Even if he's right. The futon's days are numbered.
Before Frank can fall asleep, Matt checks the time. A few hours until Fisk's imposed curfew takes effect means Matt just has to occupy himself for a short time. He keeps the news on the radio, so quiet it's unlikely Frank will even hear it, and he settles in to try and meditate. Once he knows it's creeping up on eight o'clock, he moves around as quietly as possible, opting for street clothes instead of the suit. After all, the task force is going to be looking for the flashes of red.
And, if everything goes well, Frank will stay passed out through the night and won't even know Matt was up to anything at all.
Frank's body is so worn down he falls asleep with little issue, though having a decent place to spread out now probably helps. He always sleeps better with Matt beside him but it's probably for the best they aren't pushing it right now, especially with the state his body's in. Frank will insist he's fine by the time he wakes up like the stubborn asshole he is but... for now, he'll rest.
And rest. And rest. Apparently, he needed more of it than he thought.
He sleeps through Matt leaving which he'll be pissed about later, or at least worried about. Matt shouldn't be going out there with Fisk and his army on his ass, damn it. Frank is none the wiser as he snoozes though, spread out on his back, one arm laid out across the bed.
He does feel guilty as he slips out. It's dangerous for anyone out there past curfew, let alone him and without the protective armor of his suit. But he needs to keep tabs on what's going on. It figures that Frank's escape has the force on edge. That, along with hunting for Poindexter, means they're pretty distracted from everything else.
When Matt returns, Frank's still passed out and Matt's still full of restless energy. He crawls on to the futon next to Frank, draping a blanket over both of them. But it's a fairly sleepless night for Matt, the wheels of his mind spinning too much to relax.
Frank stirs when Matt first joins him, just enough to sleepily inch his arm around him and drag him into his body, like it is the most natural thing in the world. They've done this hundreds of times by now and he's never slept so damn good in his life than when he's beside Matt. As far as he knows, Matt was just meditating until he finally decided to sleep.
By morning, Frank's pain is back in full force, but he doesn't complain. Just needs more meds once he feels human enough to get up. He rolls into Matt no matter how much his body hurts, arms holding him close with a sleepy sound pressed into his hair.
Having just started dozing off again, Matt's jostled awake. He huffs out an amused breath, stretching a bit before settling into Frank's arms.
"Your body sounds like shit, Frank."
There's affection in his tired murmur, though, and no small amount of understanding. He hears the way Frank's bones and muscles are protesting, and he's been there himself. Hell, he's just starting to feel vaguely back to normal (shoulder notwithstanding), so he can only imagine what Frank's feeling like.
Another sleepy sound, this time more irritable because the reminder about the pain makes it feel more real. He wants to ignore it but it's impossible the more and more he wakes up. Matt is warm and comfortable in his arms, and he wants to focus on this feeling.
"Feels like it too," he grumbles, nosing into his hairline. "But I slept like the dead..."
Matt feels the first hint of calmness he's felt in days. He runs his hand along Frank's arm, gently working his thumb into the tight, stiff muscle of Frank's bicep.
"No... stay," he says almost immediately, enjoying the touch along his arm. It's gentle but firm in a way that eases the tension his body is holding, Frank not even realizing. He's just so used to holding pain.
His arm stretches and flexes, then relaxes, holding it looser around Matt's waist. "Feels good."
Well, really, what else do either of them have to do right now besides lie here together? Matt can think of worse ways to spend a morning. He wiggles his thumb in between the muscles, pressing to loosen up a tight knot, one of many he knows Frank has.
"You should have a hot shower at some point. Loosen all this up a bit. Maybe you can try stretching now and then," he adds, as a gently teasing point.
A soft groan escapes when Matt pushes into the knot more, the aches from bruises melding with the pain of the knot, but it feels better than getting punched in the face again. There's a lot of swelling and Matt's right, a hot shower would definitely help... in many ways.
"I'd say join me but I don't have a fancy-ass shower the size of a pantry," he jokes lowly, lips pressing to Matt's forehead. The thought of stretching makes him laugh quietly. "What, like your yoga shit?"
The comment earns an amused snort because, yeah, that is a funny mental image, even for Frank. The thought of bending into any yoga pose feels like an impossible feat, though Frank hears him when he says he should stretch.
"Mr. Flexible over here telling me what to do," he huffs out, though he's always appreciated just how flexible Matt is, of course.
Frank's eyes open blearily just in time to meet Matt's lips in a soft kiss. His face is still swollen but not as bad as last night, and any pain is worth it for a moment like this. His arm curls around Matt's waist a little stronger, dragging him closer into his body, even though the contact makes him tense all over again.
Close like this, Matt can feel how beat up Frank's face must be, and he feels the tension come back to Frank's body. He knows putting up a fuss about it isn't going to do anything, because Frank's a stubborn asshole at the best of times, so he lets himself be drawn in.
"Just offering suggestions," he murmurs, giving Frank another kiss. "I don't want to spend a week listening to you complain about how much pain you're in."
They're going to go stir crazy together and he can sense it already, wondering how Matt will be handling this transition while they figure out where to go from here. Frank doesn't mind having here but he also recognizes how Matt's constant presence will be affecting his own mission and work, and that's something he's going to have to come to terms with.
Here and now though, he likes this. These moments aren't so bad to have every day.
"I'll take a shower and see how I feel," he offers in return, fingers drifting along Matt's back, palm warm and heavy. "And you can show me some of your damn stretches. Wouldn't mind feeling more of your hands on me anyway."
It's too bad, now Matt's starting to feel tiredness settle over him, warm and at ease under Frank's touch. He'll power nap during Frank's shower. For now, though, he lets out a little laugh.
"Can't think of a better way to spend a morning."
Even though he knows Frank will hate the idea of stretching, because Frank's probably never stretched a day in his life. It'll still give them something to do, at least for a short amount of time.
"If only there were some of your famous blueberry pancakes."
Frank hums out another quiet sound, feeling lazy and wanting to roll around in bed with Matt, but he knows he can't. He needs to get up and get the day going. Little does he know how much excitement Matt already had all evening.
"I'll have to go shopping," he says with a smile, pressing another kiss to Matt's lips for the pleasure of it. God, when did they become this casually affectionate anyway?
Frank sighs before rolling himself away so he can sit up. His body is in agony for his efforts but he barely makes a sound as he hauls himself up, rolling his shoulders.
"You stay here and get your beauty rest, pretty boy," he says affectionately, fingers pushing back at some of Matt's hair before he gets up to haul his ass to the bathroom in the hall outside.
Matt can't deny the strange juxtaposition of it all, their circumstances versus this pocket of domesticity. They're the top wanted men in the city, without question, and here they are exchanging lazy kisses in the morning. It almost makes Matt laugh.
"I'll do my best."
He reaches for Frank's hand, letting their fingers brush as Frank walks away. He exhales once he's alone and shifts a bit to comfortable, eyes dropping closed. Matt doesn't really fall back asleep, but just resting is nice, listening to the city moving around outside.
Fisk would have no idea what to do with himself if he knew about the intimate relationship these two shared. Something else he could definitely use against them both, though Frank likes to think it also makes them stronger. He'd do whatever it takes to keep Matt safe.
He uses up the hot water in the shower, standing under it and enduring the pain for the majority of the time, but he also scrubs down and gets the stench of death off his skin. He does feel mildly better when he comes back to the room to get some fresh clothes, making a pit stop at his "kitchen" to turn on the coffee maker.
"You thirsty?" he calls out softly, just in case Matt fell back asleep.
"Hmm?" Matt doesn't open his eyes, but he's very obviously focused on Frank. "I could have a cup."
After a moment, he pushes himself up, scrubbing a hand down his face. He stretches one arm up over his head and rotates his shot shoulder, then he tilts his head a bit.
"How do you feel about going for a walk today? I want to stop by the church."
Frank grabs two mugs and tries not to grunt at every little stretch he makes. Honestly, maybe he should get into the routine of stretching. His body will thank him for it.
"You sure it's smart to get out there so soon?" The way he asks makes it sound like Frank isn't so sure. "You can pray here, I promise it's not cursed."
"No, it's not to pray. There's someone I need to see."
Maybe it isn't smart to go out there, but Matt's never been nothing if not confident. In sunglasses and a hat, moving around like he's got sight, it's unlikely he'll be flagged by anyone.
He wonders if this is code for something else because Frank can't imagine who Matt would need to see at church at a time like this. Matt has a strong connection to his faith but he hasn't looped Frank in on it much at all.
"No, I'll come with," he confirms, not wanting to be left behind, especially when Matt asked him to join. "Need some more information though. Who're you seeing?"
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"You're always welcome to wear my clothes," he says with a possessive little grip of Matt's hips. "But I figured you'd want something that didn't smell like me too now and then. Even if you look great in black."
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For now, though, nuzzles into Frank's neck.
"I like the way you smell." Matt presses a kiss to the scar there before lifting his head back up, giving Frank's hip a pat. "Don't worry. I'm taking care of it. Do I have to knock you out or are you going to go lie down?"
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He hums at the kiss to his scar, inhaling sharply, but yeah- he should rest. Hands squeeze Matt one more time before he steps back to start kicking his boots off, not bothering with his pants as he hobbles to the futon.
"Just a few hours," he confirms, shaking his head at the fact that there's an actual bed in his place now, but... it's admittedly nice. They don't have to huddle up on a tiny cot the way they have been. Frank sits down and the futon creaks, making him laugh under his breath.
"Yeah, this thing isn't gonna make it." But he's lying back soon after, an obnoxiously loud groan escaping him as he does and throws an arm over his eyes.
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"Shut up."
Even if he's right. The futon's days are numbered.
Before Frank can fall asleep, Matt checks the time. A few hours until Fisk's imposed curfew takes effect means Matt just has to occupy himself for a short time. He keeps the news on the radio, so quiet it's unlikely Frank will even hear it, and he settles in to try and meditate. Once he knows it's creeping up on eight o'clock, he moves around as quietly as possible, opting for street clothes instead of the suit. After all, the task force is going to be looking for the flashes of red.
And, if everything goes well, Frank will stay passed out through the night and won't even know Matt was up to anything at all.
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And rest. And rest. Apparently, he needed more of it than he thought.
He sleeps through Matt leaving which he'll be pissed about later, or at least worried about. Matt shouldn't be going out there with Fisk and his army on his ass, damn it. Frank is none the wiser as he snoozes though, spread out on his back, one arm laid out across the bed.
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When Matt returns, Frank's still passed out and Matt's still full of restless energy. He crawls on to the futon next to Frank, draping a blanket over both of them. But it's a fairly sleepless night for Matt, the wheels of his mind spinning too much to relax.
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By morning, Frank's pain is back in full force, but he doesn't complain. Just needs more meds once he feels human enough to get up. He rolls into Matt no matter how much his body hurts, arms holding him close with a sleepy sound pressed into his hair.
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"Your body sounds like shit, Frank."
There's affection in his tired murmur, though, and no small amount of understanding. He hears the way Frank's bones and muscles are protesting, and he's been there himself. Hell, he's just starting to feel vaguely back to normal (shoulder notwithstanding), so he can only imagine what Frank's feeling like.
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"Feels like it too," he grumbles, nosing into his hairline. "But I slept like the dead..."
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Matt feels the first hint of calmness he's felt in days. He runs his hand along Frank's arm, gently working his thumb into the tight, stiff muscle of Frank's bicep.
"Do you want me to get you anything?"
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His arm stretches and flexes, then relaxes, holding it looser around Matt's waist. "Feels good."
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"You should have a hot shower at some point. Loosen all this up a bit. Maybe you can try stretching now and then," he adds, as a gently teasing point.
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"I'd say join me but I don't have a fancy-ass shower the size of a pantry," he jokes lowly, lips pressing to Matt's forehead. The thought of stretching makes him laugh quietly. "What, like your yoga shit?"
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He's not going to get into the technical differences of yoga versus stretching, but he does let out an amused snort.
"Imagine, the big bad Punisher centering himself in pigeon pose."
Matt kneads at the muscle until it feels a bit looser, then tips his chin up a bit to try and coax Frank into a proper good morning kiss.
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"Mr. Flexible over here telling me what to do," he huffs out, though he's always appreciated just how flexible Matt is, of course.
Frank's eyes open blearily just in time to meet Matt's lips in a soft kiss. His face is still swollen but not as bad as last night, and any pain is worth it for a moment like this. His arm curls around Matt's waist a little stronger, dragging him closer into his body, even though the contact makes him tense all over again.
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"Just offering suggestions," he murmurs, giving Frank another kiss. "I don't want to spend a week listening to you complain about how much pain you're in."
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Here and now though, he likes this. These moments aren't so bad to have every day.
"I'll take a shower and see how I feel," he offers in return, fingers drifting along Matt's back, palm warm and heavy. "And you can show me some of your damn stretches. Wouldn't mind feeling more of your hands on me anyway."
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"Can't think of a better way to spend a morning."
Even though he knows Frank will hate the idea of stretching, because Frank's probably never stretched a day in his life. It'll still give them something to do, at least for a short amount of time.
"If only there were some of your famous blueberry pancakes."
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"I'll have to go shopping," he says with a smile, pressing another kiss to Matt's lips for the pleasure of it. God, when did they become this casually affectionate anyway?
Frank sighs before rolling himself away so he can sit up. His body is in agony for his efforts but he barely makes a sound as he hauls himself up, rolling his shoulders.
"You stay here and get your beauty rest, pretty boy," he says affectionately, fingers pushing back at some of Matt's hair before he gets up to haul his ass to the bathroom in the hall outside.
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"I'll do my best."
He reaches for Frank's hand, letting their fingers brush as Frank walks away. He exhales once he's alone and shifts a bit to comfortable, eyes dropping closed. Matt doesn't really fall back asleep, but just resting is nice, listening to the city moving around outside.
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He uses up the hot water in the shower, standing under it and enduring the pain for the majority of the time, but he also scrubs down and gets the stench of death off his skin. He does feel mildly better when he comes back to the room to get some fresh clothes, making a pit stop at his "kitchen" to turn on the coffee maker.
"You thirsty?" he calls out softly, just in case Matt fell back asleep.
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After a moment, he pushes himself up, scrubbing a hand down his face. He stretches one arm up over his head and rotates his shot shoulder, then he tilts his head a bit.
"How do you feel about going for a walk today? I want to stop by the church."
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"You sure it's smart to get out there so soon?" The way he asks makes it sound like Frank isn't so sure. "You can pray here, I promise it's not cursed."
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Maybe it isn't smart to go out there, but Matt's never been nothing if not confident. In sunglasses and a hat, moving around like he's got sight, it's unlikely he'll be flagged by anyone.
"I can go by myself if you need to recover."
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"No, I'll come with," he confirms, not wanting to be left behind, especially when Matt asked him to join. "Need some more information though. Who're you seeing?"
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