stardustly | open tag ins.

Unexpectedly, the sensual sound in his ear makes Matt's skin prickle, and he snorts a laugh to cover up the way his breath hitches. It doesn't mean anything really, it's just his enhanced senses overreacting in a totally natural way to the fact that he hasn't had so much as a coffee date in months.

The fact that the soft moan, specifically in Steve's voice, is now reverberating in his head? He'll just shove that away with all the other issues in his life that he ignores.

"Because I've been trying so hard." Rather the opposite, in fact. Matt knows he's put up a roadblock or three on Steve's occasional quest for independence. He smiles at the reminder of their childhood oath, though. And blinks a moment at the sudden swerve back into the movie plot. "Yeah, that would be hard. But I mean, it's not an unrealistic scenario. Doesn't everybody want their significant other to be their best friend too?"

Mostly, Steve tried to venture out on his own every now and again to stop from constantly disrupting Matt's life. The man built something for himself in his absence and returning so suddenly changed everything. Plus, things were never easy for soldiers returning from war and Steve had plenty of issues to untangle, which he felt badly pulling Matt into. His best friend had more than enough to deal with of his own making.

But he never wanted to leave. Not really.

"I think it's different if you're childhood best friends. That's a different kind of friend level than someone you just meet and become friends with," Steve explained, finishing off his food with a content sigh. He placed his things aside, wiggling around until he managed to lean against Matt, practically his back to Matt's chest.

He continued to narrate the film, adding in his own commentary, of course.

Steve's right about the friendship thing. No matter how close Matt has felt to the people who've come into his life since, none them will ever hold a candle to their bond. And he takes his promises to Steve as seriously as any fancy marriage vow.

With a warm smile, he sets his empty bowl aside and wraps one arm around his friend's chest, perfectly happy to be a cushion. The running commentary has him laughing, head occasionally bowing to rest against Steve's hair as he does. It's been ages since he sat through a movie, because nobody else quite manages to narrate them right.

Once the credits roll, he gives Steve a poke in the side and nudges him to sit up. "C'mon, there's cake, from the best bakery in the Kitchen." And a gift as well, in an envelope hidden under the couch cushion.

Along with countless other things, Matt tended to bring peace into his life, something he normally failed to find anywhere else. Usually, he kept on alert, a type of hyper vigilance he couldn't shake even after returning home. They trained him so long to never let his guard down and they managed too well with him. But with Matt he found it easier to breathe and just exist in the little pocket moment they settled around them. It never occurred to him to look too deeply into why.

"But you're comfortable," Steve grumbled but a smile filled his face at the mention of the word 'cake'. He loved sweets and birthday cake happened to be the best dessert of all. It only happened once a year, after all! Walking over to said cake, he had the fondest look seeping into his eyes. "Are you going to sing 'happy birthday?' I can't make a wish and have it come true if you don't." He didn't make the rules, just enforced them, clearly.

"Make sure you add in the 'dear' part in front of my name. That's just nice."

Admittedly, Matt is very comfortable. He could easily just drift off to sleep, lulled by Steve's voice and general sense of contentment filling the room. But this is supposed to be a birthday celebration. And he doesn't have to be able to see to know that there's a huge smile on his friend's face right now.

There's a little packet of candles he picked up just for this occasion, and he pulls out just one, handing it over to Steve to put on his cake. Not that Matt couldn't do it, but it'd probably end up crooked and right in the middle of the writing or something.

He hands over the book of matches as well. That, he definitely doesn't need to be playing with. "Really? You actually want me to listen to me sing?" Matt teases. "No complaining about how I destroyed your hearing or ruined your birthday."

It's harder than he expected to provide a rousing rendition of 'Happy Birthday' without ruining it by laughing, especially when he comes to the 'dear Steve' part and really belts it out, but Matt does an admirable job. Of finishing the song, that is. Steve already knew he can't sing to save his life.

Taking the candle, he placed it on the cake and lit it carefully with a pleased smile on his face. The smile only increased when Matt began to sing because the ability level mattered very little with the birthday song! Only the sentiment really mattered and Steve felt his heart practically skip a beat like in all the cheesy romance films. And just like in those films a moment of realization washed over him so thickly it nearly frozen everything else around him. No matter what happened, how his life turned or what they went through, Steve always had Matt. He kept him grounded but still with the belief he could do anything. Nothing had to keep him down just because of things out of his control, something they both shared with one another. It meant everything, absolutely everything and how could he not know?

How could he not get it?

Shaking himself, he blew out the candle with a laugh. "Let me get some plates and I'll cut this up. It smells so good." Focus on the cake and not anything else. Focus on the cake. Looking at Matt when he returned with the plates and something to cut the cake with his heart clenched in his chest. Maybe he had been in love with Matt his entire life but he had been the one who couldn't see it.

Slicing into the cake, he put a piece on one plate for Matt and another for him to eat. He handed Matt a fork with another fond smile. "That was the best birthday song singing I've ever heard. So much feeling." Smirking, he took a bite of the cake and proceeded to let out a faint groan. "So good."

There's an odd tension in the air just before Steve blows out his candle, as if the world is hovering on the edge of something momentous. The feeling eases once he moves to get plates and cut the cake, but it doesn't entirely dissipate. Matt laughs at the remark about his singing, but he feels distracted without understanding why.

"I wish I could take the credit, but I was afraid I'd burn the building down if I made one myself." He actually gave the idea serious consideration before common sense intervened, but it does still irk him just a little, that he couldn't do this for Steve himself.

It is delicious cake, though, and all Matt really cares about is that Steve is happy. Really that's been one of his main goals practically his entire life. There are a lot of things he'd do, a lot he'd sacrifice, to make that happen.

"Here, I promised you a present, too." Setting aside his plate for a moment, he produces a plain white envelope and holds it out. Inside, are two train tickets to Washington DC, two admissions to the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and reservations to the museum's Handi-hour program. "Happy Birthday."

Birthdays were always a difficult thing for Steve, a reminder in a way of how much he changed his life and of the loss of his mother. She always went to such great lengths despite how little they had to ensure he had a perfect day. There were so rarely perfect days in life but she always managed to make it happen every single year without fail. After her passing, he doubted he could ever find something as magical but Matt managed it with the simplicity he planned and the tender thought he put into everything. It made him feel closer to how he used to be; how things were once simpler for them both.

"Hey, you didn't have to get me anything," Steve argued with a shake of his head. "This is more than enough - you are -" He broke off as he took the envelope. Matt wouldn't take no for an answer and sometimes he found it easier to go along with him. Opening the envelope, his breath caught in his chest because, of course, Matt remembered an offhanded comment he made months ago about wanting to go to the Smithsonian American Art Museum.

Stupidly enough, tears stung his eyes and he made sure to set down the tickets before he ruined them in some way. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms tightly around Matt. "Thank you," he whispered after a few long moments. "You really didn't - wait." He pulled back to look into Matt's face. "Are you actually going to leave Hell's Kitchen willingly?"

There aren't too many things Matt gets truly stubborn with Steve about, so he does tend to get his way when he puts his foot down. And there are a lot of things he can't do for his friend, so in the rare situation that he can? Matt can be pretty recalcitrant.

His returns the embrace easily and immediately, pressing a wide grin into Steve's hair. This is the reaction he was hoping for. They missed too many birthdays, too many moments of all kinds, during the deployment. Matt hadn't really understood how strongly that affected him until now.

Raising his eyebrows as Steve pulls back and questions him, he shrugs one shoulder like it's no big deal. "It isn't Ireland, but I figured I could handle the train a little more easily for a first outing."

For a first outing. If he questioned being in love with Matt before it really clicked into place now. He knew how reluctant Matt felt about leaving Hell's Kitchen at all, especially with how he deemed himself protector over it. Having Matt take a few days off usually proved a challenge and this would be more than a couple of days. They would be in a completely different place and he also knew the unfamiliar territory challenged Matt too. He couldn't as easily navigate through it but he would be right by his side the entire time.

The smile brightened on his face and he cupped Matt's cheek tenderly. "It's perfect," he murmured, dropping his hand after a few seconds. "Second best present I've ever gotten." The first? Matt saying hello to him for the first time, of course. The single moment that changed everything and boy had his ma loved Matt. She doted on him like he was her own son and before she passed she used to tell Steve all the time to never let him go. She also used to claim they would one day end up together.

It seemed she got a few things wrong.

"Now, are you going to do my birthday dance with me?" Steve asked suddenly, the tradition something his ma started as a way to try and lift his spirits back in the day. "I might be worse than when we were kids."

Sometimes Matt wonders how his life would have been if he hadn't met Steve all those years ago. A whole lot less happy, that he can say for sure. Mrs. Rogers had been the mother he never had, in a way, and the years at St. Agnes would have been a whole lot more lonely without the two of them.

To think he almost screwed all of that up by hanging onto a lie that was never really necessary in the first place.

For a second, he leans a little into Steve's hand, unexpectedly disappointed when it drops away. The two of them have always been intensely tactile, always hugging or leaning against each other, sitting hip to hip or lounging in a tangle of limbs. The physical contact was always a source of comfort for both boys, and it seems that has never changed. This particular touch, however, doesn't leave Matt feeling reassured. It somehow leaves him wanting more.

"Dance?" Matt does remember that childhood tradition, though he hadn't thought about Steve wanting to keep it up. Still, there's no reason not to, and every reason to indulge his friend's whims on today of all days. "Sure, okay. Do I need to put on some music? Because I've already done all the serenading I think the neighbors can stand."

At one of the lowest points of his life, Matt entered into his world and brought in such a light, not only for him but also for his ma. Sarah had loved Matt like her own and made sure he never felt left out or lacking if she could help it. They were like a family and for awhile it looked like the closest thing possible to paradise for Steve. Even through all the years and loss they both faced, Steve still looked at Matt and felt the exact same way. Matt embodied all the best memories of his entire life and he couldn't imagine another day without him. Being overseas had been rough enough and he never wanted to face such a distance again.

"Something slow," Steve murmured, the fondest look possible filling his face. It felt like a night of revelations but he needed to keep the words to himself. Matt could have practically anyone he wanted and Steve overheard Foggy talking about Claire something or another to Karen when they thought he had left the office already after Matt. Good thing they didn't have the enhanced senses or anything.

He backed up a little, putting the rest of the cake into the fridge while Matt set things up for them. It would feel nice to dance with someone again, to feel the heat of another person's body closer to his own.

There's something interesting in the air, not a tension (there's never been tension between the two of them, even during their worst disagreements), but a feeling that makes Matt feel almost like he's in a dream. Something anticipatory, and a little fragile.

Because of that sensation, rather than making a smart remark about dance styles, he simply goes to his computer and finds something suitable to play.

"I expect you to lead." His voice is light and teasing, as he moves the coffee table out of the way to make enough room for them. Nothing feels strange at all about a slow dance with his best friend. Everything about it feels right.

Without actually realizing it, his eyes followed Matt's movements, noting the lines of his body and the fluidity with which he moved. So many things he never noticed before but now kept taking his breath away little by little. It seemed almost too late in a way or something he should keep to himself at all costs. Matt happened to be the most important person in his entire life and he couldn't lose him.

He couldn't stand it if he did.

"Don't I always?" Steve teased right back, reaching out for Matt once he moved close enough to him. The song began and Steve felt another hitch in his breathing and even without enhanced hearing he knew Matt would clue into it. They were close, so close, one of Steve's hands holding one of Matt's own and his other arm looped around him. They were always close to one another when they could be but this felt different.

It sparked something, the words of the song only enhancing it. Did it mean something? Could it?

"You always try." Matt can't resist the rebuttal, it's a pattern they always fall easily into. Laughter and teasing when times are good, comforting arms and a sympathetic ear when they're not. Or fierce loyalty and a pair of fists, when that's what's needed instead.

It feels, as always, completely right to wrap one arm over Steve's shoulders. The body may have drastically altered, but Matt's sense of the man has never wavered. It took next to no time for him to adjust, probably less time even than Steve himself, because what has always been most important about his closest friend has never changed. And Matt's sense of attachment to him has only grown through the years.

The quick stutter in his breath doesn't escape notice, and Matt's heart does a double-step in answer. Oddly enough, it's that involuntary response that clues him in to a thought that's been slipping around the edges of his mind. He has the strongest urge to press his face to the other man's shoulder and inhale, knowing exactly what he'll smell and realizing that it's a scent he'll always associate with being safe and happy. With feeling loved.

God, it's amazing to Matt how often he has no idea what's actually going on inside his own head until it's almost too late.

"Don't go away like that again." He can't exactly come out and say his heart would break, in so many words. But it would. Probably will, someday.

Moving in time with the music, Steve took extra note of the heat passing between them and the way Matt felt against him. The way they ultimately fit together like two lost puzzle pieces, which they always have in an emotional sort of way. Matt fit into the broken, jagged areas life left behind and brought some kind of unity. A way to keep moving forward and to not only exist but to live. How could it take him so long to realize what all of the emotions actually meant? To realize his life really began the moment Matt Murdock stumbled into?

The words pulled him out of the confines of his body and he squeezed Matt a little tighter without meaning to. "Never," he promised, "I'm never leaving you again." He barely survived it the first time and now he couldn't imagine a day without Matt in it. Actually, in it and not just in letter form or the rare phone call. The song made the dance have a romantic tilt to it, at least, on Steve's end and it felt like one of those moments where everything else stood still. Something so unbelievable until it actually managed to happen.

"Matt - I -" Steve began, but quickly lost his nerve and instead he finished with, "This means so much to me. All of this. You. Thank you." With a soft smile, he pulled back only enough to be able to twirl Matt and dip him.

There will never be a time when Matt doesn't welcome Steve's embrace, in any capacity. They're both deeply tactile people, albeit for different reasons, but it means they've also always been able to rely on each other to fulfill that need. It feels especially important now, however, with Steve so recently returned home and the two of them rediscovering an equilibrium that had been missing in their lives during the separation.

Logically, Matt knows that he can't hold his friend to that promise. Someday one of them will find a reason to want more distance between the two of them. At least, Steve will. Once he's adjusted to civilian life again. Matt would be perfectly happy to simply continue on as they are. There's no one else he'd rather come home to at the end of a grueling day in court, or wake up to on a sun-warmed morning.

Mentally putting the feelings into words is like finally finding the right combination to a stubborn lock, all the tumblers falling into place and the door to understanding opening. His breath catches, but before he can open his mouth to speak (not that he knows what he's going to say), Steve is voicing his thanks once again and ending their dance with a twirl and dip.

Instead of speaking, Matt just laughs, the kind of brightly joyous laugh that comes from feeling a little high on happiness. Putting his arms around Steve's neck, he touches their foreheads together, still smiling widely. "You've been the most important person in my life since I was nine years old. That's never going to change. And I don't want it to."

The sound of Matt's laughter filled him to the brim, something of an accomplishment with the previous overwhelmingly haunted look he took in from before. There were plenty of things to haunt them but he wanted to be able to pull Matt out of that, if only for a few moments here and there. He knew how difficult it could be to completely step away from certain things, especially when someone seemed willingly to shoulder the entire burden of everyone else around him so they didn't have to. Admirable, maybe, but also completely unrealistic. Matt's huge heart could be his greatest strength and weakness all at the same time.

Intimacy curled around them again and Steve's eyes fell shut for a moment as he just drank it all in. The soft touches, the gentle and reassuring words. It reminded him yet again of being safe and warm, the complete opposite of his last couple of years with training and the running around a warzone. "My life was only missing you to come into it," Steve whispered, eyes slowly opening again.

It felt like a moment - the one to finally indulge in the realizations lighting him up from the inside out. But even with his bravery on the field, Steve felt at a loss to carry it over into his personal life. Rather than take the plunge he chickened out and only pressed a kiss to Matt's cheek before he pulled away. Silently berating himself the entire time.

"Like you could even get rid of me by this point. Who else would you get mostly burnt food from?" Steve's cooking skills left little to be desired but he tried. It counted for something, right?

If he's completely honest with himself, Matt hasn't spoken words this affectionate and intimate to anyone in his life. Not Claire, not even Elektra. There's a depth to his feelings for Steve that he's not sure any other person could be capable of matching. Steve isn't only his oldest and best friend, he's part of Matt's soul.

And all of this is something he thinks -- something he knows -- he should be saying aloud. But what if it's too much? They've always been ridiculously affectionate with each other, to an extent that brought the occasional teasing from other kids at the orphanage. Matt never cared. A thousand of them would never have been worth one Steve Rogers. So what if all of this, the embraces and the soft touches and the way Steve's heart skips and his skin warms, is just an extension of how they've always been? What if Matt tries to make something more from it and just ruins everything instead?

Besides, this is good. This is safe, and comfortable. He understands what Steve expects from him, and they've already proven that their friendship can weather some pretty difficult things. Romantic love is so fragile, and it makes people fragile too. There are only so many times Matt figures his heart can stand to break.

God, it's hard not to rush right over that invisible line, though, when he feels Steve's lips against his cheek. "I can mostly burn my own food. Now, properly folded sheets, that's a skill I'd keep you around for."

Jokes are easier than confessions.

No matter what direction his life turned or what fell onto him, Matt remained as a steady constant. One he depended on with everything he had and just the thought of losing the man kept him from saying anything further. Matt never made any indication on feeling more than friendship (not that Steve would even really notice) and he needed to respect it. Saying anything would only make it awkward and in turn strained. Eventually, wrecking their connection completely. A risk he just refused to take even if it meant always wondering what could have been.

"You would also mostly burn the entire kitchen," Steve pointed out with a smirk. "I'm glad to know I'm so useful." The tease rolled easily off his tongue, his fingertips grasping out for Matt's wrist to pull him back over towards the cake.

"Now if you're done distracting me, I have birthday cake to consume." Cutting two pieces, he handed one off to Matt and kept one for himself. While he could have walked over to grab a fork, he decided to just eat the cake with his fingers instead. It would take far too much time otherwise and cake. Letting out a pleased groan, he licked at his fingers. "So good," he commented, swiping a bit of frosting onto his finger to slid along Matt's nose. "Perfect."

"No point in doing anything halfway," he quips in response, as he's led back to where the cake sits. He'd been a little nervous about the bakery getting the decorations right, and he still has no way of knowing whether they used plenty of blue icing like he asked. But Steve seems to be genuinely pleased with it, and that's really the only thing that matters.

For a second, Matt's confused about why his friend cut himself a piece but stopped short of getting any utensils, but the happy noises answer that question soon enough. And Matt has to laugh at the enthusiasm and impatience.

He also can't avoid the rush of blood to his cheeks when Steve slides a frosting-covered finger down his nose. The first words into his head come out of his mouth before he can think to stop them. "What, am I not naturally sweet enough for you?"

At the teasing words, Steve paused a little, wondering quickly if Matt meant the innuendo with them or not. The latter, surely, unless there were confessions they needed to voice on both ends here. Never in his wildest dreams had he considered Matt having feelings for him, though, especially not with all the other options around them. He noticed sometimes the way Karen let her eyes linger but Steve couldn't blame her when Matt tended to light up everything around him so easily.

"I'd have to test and see," Steve finally responded with, using a rare burst of emotional bravery to test the waters and see if Matt only meant it as a joke.

If only his rapidly beating heart would calm down some, especially because Matt could pick up on it. How would he keep hiding things with Matt's enhanced abilities resting between them?

Matt Murdock is a fool, and he knows this about himself. Yet that knowledge never seems to help when he's faced with the option of jumping off the cliff in front of him or turning back. Because turning back is never going to be the choice he makes.

So he takes one small step forward, and it's good that he can hear the way Steve's heart pounds, because it's the thing that pushes him to take a chance. "Then I guess you'd better do that."

His own pulse is thrumming so fast that the sound of it muffles some of the noise from outside. This is his best friend, close enough to be almost a part of him. If he's wrong, if Steve declares himself to be joking and laughs at Matt's response, it'll break his heart but he'll be all right. Because Steve has promised to never desert him, and he always keeps his word.

The smile reminded on his face despite the slight panic roaring to life within him, anticipation fluttering wildly in his stomach to twist it all into knots. A reaction he last felt with Peggy during the service years ago but it ended up not working out. In a way, he wondered if somehow he felt things for Matt all along and just hadn't realized. Could it be why relationships never worked? No one ever compared to Matt Murdock.

"Okay," he murmured, proud his voice sounded more steady than he felt. Moving forward, he reached out to cup Matt's cheek. One moment and their relationship would change forever. "If you want me to stop," he continued, trailing off but moving slowly in case Matt wanted to change his mind. If he didn't, though, he'd have lips softly pressed to his and a soft exhale of relief.

Matt isn't the type to change his mind in a panic when faced with the unknown, and a kiss from his lifelong best friend isn't going to be the thing that changes him. It just might change his life, though, because the moment Steve's lips meet his, he feels a surge of emotion that almost overwhelms him.

Emboldened by that feeling, he slides his arm around Steve's waist, the other hand resting light against his chest. As they part from that first hesitant kiss, a little smile grows on Matt's face. He tastes like sugar and beer and a hint of spice.

"Nope." Quite the opposite, in fact. Rather than stopping, he'd very much like to do it again. And so he does, pressing his lips to Steve's a little more firmly, fingers curling into the man's shirt.

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