FIC: The Art of Gratitude by [personal profile] doc_sock

  • Dec. 23rd, 2011 at 6:15 PM
doc_sock: Matt in his Daredevil costume, splayed in a chair, with the text Kingpin (Daredevil)
Title: The Art of Gratitude
Author: [personal profile] doc_sock/[livejournal.com profile] doc_socktopus
Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.
Fandom: Marvel Comics (New Avengers/Daredevil/Iron Fist)
Characters: Jessica Jones/Luke Cage/Danny Rand/Matt Murdock
Word Count: 900
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: Matt had never been good at being gracious.
Notes: I'm 90% sure I haven't posted this ifc before. I may be wrong.


Sometimes, Jessica forgot that Danny was bouncy when he got really excited. He moved from room to room on the balls of his feet, picking up and putting down knick knacks, shoving his hands in his pockets only to be picking something up five seconds later. It was fucking distracting.

“When’s Matt getting here?” he asked, circling the living room for the hundredth time, passing in and out of pools of light from the setting sun as he went around and around.

“You called him,” Luke said.

“Oh, right.”

“For fuck’s sake Danny,” she couldn’t take it anymore, “sit down before I have to kill you.”

He looked wounded, but collapsed on the couch, drumming his fingers on his thigh. She sighed and uncurled her body from her seat on the ground, picking up Danielle and dumping her on Danny’s lap. If he didn’t stop fidgeting, she was going to have to murder him.

“Here, play with her. And stop fidgeting,” she snapped.

He pouted a bit, and she absolutely did not want to kiss the pout off his face, no matter what her body said, but started tickling the baby and making her squeal.

“That’s my girl,” he said, a fond look on his face. “Maybe when you grow up you’ll have sonic screams like that Siryn chick.”

Jessica caught herself fidgeting, rubbing her palms up and down her legs and twisting her wedding ring. Luke was the only one in the room who knew what was going on but was calm about it. He was staring at them with a faintly amused look on his face. She couldn’t mange to summon enough crossness to want to wipe the look off his face, which wasn’t to say she didn’t try.

The last of the workmen had gathered up his tools and left the apartment that afternoon. She’d set Danny to vacuuming and helped Luke move the furniture back into their bedroom while Danielle played contentedly on the floor. Then she had Danny call Matt and invite him over.

As if he still needed an invitation.

That had been an hour ago. Now they had nothing left to do but wait until he decided to show up. It didn’t take that long to get to Harlem from Hell’s Kitchen, but he had said he had a few things to finish up at the office. She was beginning to realize they should have just waylaid him and dragged him back to their apartment. This was fucking ridiculous.

When he finally knocked on the door – she never could figure out why he still knocked, after all this time – and came in, Danielle was in her playpen, banging a spoon on a metal pan together. Matt tried to hide the winces at every sharp clang, but Jessica caught them anyway.

“Rough day?” Danny asked. She really hoped Matt couldn’t hear the gleeful undertones or sense the grin on Danny’s face.

“Construction just started right outside the office,” he said, thanking Luke quietly when he handed him a handful of aspirin and a glass of water.

“Then you’ll probably appreciate this,” she said, taking the empty glass from him and setting it on the side table. She grabbed his hands and walked backward to the bedroom, tugging him with her. Danny still had that stupid adorable grin on his face, like it was Christmas morning and he knew he was about to get the best present ever. Even Luke had a faint grin on his face and looked excited as he followed them into the bedroom.

“I really should-“ Matt started to protest, but his mouth snapped shut when he stepped across the threshold and Luke closed the door behind him. The state-of-the-art soundproofing in the walls, paid for with Danny’s money, locked out most of the sounds from outside the bedroom.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh. You did this for me.” He turned around in a slow circle, his head cocked.

“Who else,” Luke said gruffly.

When Matt was facing her again, his face had lit up, but he was scowling. The odd combination of emotion made him look nauseous. She wanted to smooth her fingers over his face, wipe away the lines etched there.

“Hey man,” Danny said from behind her. “Don’t puke on our shoes.

“You shouldn’t have,” Matt said shortly, crossing his arms.

If there was one thing that she hated about their relationship, it was this. His fucking inability to be gracious about anything. His fucking refusal to believe that he deserved nice things being done for him. It made her want to punch him sometime, even though she knew that wouldn’t convince him, either.

“You look like shit in the morning when you stay the night,” she said bluntly.

“I manage,” he muttered. His knuckles were white where he was gripping his arms, like he was afraid he was going to shatter if he left go.

“Now you’ll manage better, man,” Luke said, exchanging a look with Jessica. She didn’t like the pity in his eyes any more than she liked Matt’s resigned self-hatred. A relationship built on pity crumpled eventually, and she didn’t want to lose this.

Danny carefully pried Matt’s fingers off his arms, and slid his own fingers through them. “It’s not like I was doing anything else with my money.”

When Matt’s scowl began to soften and turn into a small smile, she knew they had won. For the moment.

THE END


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