Being who he was, Matthew Murdock had to have a good reason to be on an Airplane to California at Four-o'Clock in the morning. It wasn't his sorry excuse to his partner of needing a vacation (he didn't believe it) or his equally sorry excuse to himself of being a generally helpful person to those in need. It was solely the out-and-out the fact that he owed General Fury a big favor and when he called to cash in on one it was best to accept and go along gracefully.
So he was leaving his semi-comfortable life in Hell's Kitchen as a confident lawyer only to have his luggage checked fourteen times before he boarded a tightly cramped plane that reeked of someone's airsickness for eight hours. San Francesco didn't particularly seem like a dream to 'The Man Without Fear' when he was wearing his red leather devil costume under a business suit and listening to an asthmatic woman coughing into a tissue beside him.
He had never held onto any small illusion that there was going to be a chance to sleep on the trip so he found himself fighting with cheap headphones and a tape player he had never used before. Audio-books hadn't ever been his choice method of reading but it beat lugging around a Braille book on this trip and he figured the less attention he drew to himself; the better. By the time the plane finally landed, his worst nightmare would have seemed like a relief compared to another minute of Tolstoy's writing.
Under-cover work wasn't nearly as bad as many of his choice bets about Nick Fury's 'favor' and he had been promised that an Avenger would be waiting for him at the luggage pick-up. He had pegged his partner in this scheme to be Clint Barton or maybe even Peter Parker. Either of them he could have worked with but the voice that called out to him was distinct and the heartbeat was faster than most human beings. This already was going to be a sorry plan, he decided, and they hadn't even gotten to their 'home' to read their notes yet.
~*~*~
Logan really hated Fury, though he hated having to listen to the bastard even more. He had been dragged from the middle of a training exercise to report to Nick's office so he could respond to an urgent missive, only to be held up in the stuffy little waiting room for 35 minutes. Then he was ordered to the most asinine state in the damn country for an undercover sting where he had to nanny some other SHEILD flunky for the duration of their stay.
He growled softly just thinking about it, longing for a beer despite it having yet to reach seven in the morning. He glared at a screaming toddler who was busy kicking his mother's leg for not giving him an ice cream cone and had to refrain from snarling at a passing Asian tourist who either wanted to take a picture with Logan or have Logan take one of his many extended relatives.
He hadn't been told much by Fury, who was unsurprisingly dismissive about his complaints; all he knew at this point was he was waiting for someone with a cane. He was in a place with way too many unbathed bodies and it was too early for morning wood, never mind being alert and aware of his surroundings.
Sighing in relief as he caught sight of Mr. Murdock, he rolled his eyes and barked out the other man's name; confidant the optically challenged ponce would hear him. He stalked towards the man as he began surveying the luggage rack in distain. "Well this should be fun," he muttered under his breath before patting Murdock on the shoulder gruffly and steering him towards the conveyer belts. "So what do your bags look like? Cause I don't know about you, bub, but I want to get the hell out of here and into bed before we face Nick's idea of a vacation."
Matt slid his shoulder out from under Wolverine's firm hand with surprising ease when the bumping grind of the luggage caught his ears; he wasn't trying to start a fight as early as five minutes into a meeting so he had waited for that moment. He was entirely capable of guiding himself through the crowd despite the agonizing pounding sound of the people mixing together with countless numbers of machines…but he let the other man have his way till they reached the conveyers.
Upon hearing the X-man's questions then, he flipped his white cane higher up in his hand to bring it to closer view. "I couldn't tell you what they looked like if I wanted to. Check the ID tags; mine is the only one in Braille." He kidded with his most charming grin. "It says 'Matthew Murdock', actually, my secretary wrote them all up for me. She's a doll. One's a bag and the other is a suit-case; I asked for black but you know, for all I know they could be orange."
Logan grinned behind the other man's back; this little detour in his life might actually be fun with this clown as entertainment. He managed to keep silent for a while and eventually found the other man's bags. Murdock had been correct that his bags were black but Logan figured he could still have some fun, "Hate to break it to you bub, but your bags are kind of purple." He informed brightly before slinging one over his shoulder and hefting his own warn bag in his free hand.
"So let's go see what piece of crap Nick got us for a rental," He offered in a fairly deadpan manner before turning abruptly and walking off leaving Matthew behind.
Matt followed behind Logan with life-long expertise in the subject, mostly letting the were-creature's unique heartbeat guide him along though he went through the motions of tapping the cane in front of himself for the sake of his identity. The pleasant warmth of the out-doors struck him at the same time that the impossibility of the floral scent did; lilies, coral bells, snapdragons and overwhelming abundances of them. It reminded him of shelves of lotions and women's floral perfumes; nice, sweet and intoxicating.
His partner's words, however, reminded him of another type of intoxication entirely. He was muttering and grumbling and cursing under his breath but the lawyer could still pick it up with ease. Summarized; a powder blue Prius was not the type of vehicle he would have left two important people if he were in a governmental position. It also, apparently looked, paraphrased; 'really homosexual'. If it wasn't enough that they had to live in San Francisco for the next 'little while', this was just sick.
Logan drove them to their new home, bracing himself with his most able brood for the horrors which undoubtedly awaited them in the middle of the city row houses. He wasn't absolutely certain what Fury wanted him and Matthew to do yet but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that it wasn't going to be pretty.
The animal in him growled and lashed out at the idea of having to spend the next undetermined amount of time pretending to be all hunky dory with Matthew, but he just hoped that the house was fucking spectacular to make up for the crap they were working with so far.
Pulling up in front of a quaint ivy covered row house he glared at the sunny yellow storm shutters and grabbed the bags from the trunk of the Prius, slamming the doors a little harder than necessary as he marched up the front steps and fished the key out of his pocket to open the door.
Walking through with Murdock following he snarled aloud at the bright girly décor and copious amounts of thrift-store ceramic figurines mocking him from every corner of the room. "Shit, I'm going to fucking kill that greasy pig fucking bastard," he growled as he stalked forward and winced at the gaily furnished living room.
"Let's get online so we can figure out what the hell we're doing here." He muttered before stalking off to sit on the red velvet divan and pulling his laptop from his backpack.
Matt closed the door softly behind them slowly, letting out a displeased sigh when he noticed the duller sound of the room. "Lovely." He stated as he proceeded forward, slowly gliding his cane outwards through the air to find the various pieces of furniture. "Throw rugs, I love throw rugs." The man inwardly groaned as he found the small floral piece placed at the entry way.
He moved forward carefully until he found the couch and sat down on it with a sigh as he realized just how tired he was. "So what does the general want from us?" He inquired as he leaned against the stiff back of the couch. Whatever it was, it wasn't to give them a comfortable dwelling that much was for sure.
Logan looked up from his computer and rolled his eyes at the man leaning against the back of the couch. "Give me a moment to access the email he sent us," he muttered as his fingers flew over the keyboard and opened up the numerous files that had been sent encrypted to Logan's secure S.H.I.E.L.D mailbox.
He scanned the police raps, the profiles and their own identity files before snarling aloud and cursing fluently in French under his breath. "I'm going to fucking kill him!" He barked as he set the laptop down on the oddly shaped coffee table and grabbed a nearby porcelain figurine and threw it at the brick fireplace. "Fucker!"
Matt started at the sound of the breaking porcelain and he stood up with expert speed, hands up in a loose martial arts stance. Palms open and hands up at his neck it appeared as more of a defensive plead than it was. He knew it was a bit over the top to be so worried but his heart beat was speeding in his chest to match his companion's; he didn't really know Wolverine that well but he would have bet the metal claws were out. "Calm down, Logan." He requested.
"What was it?" He inquired then without giving him time to retaliate, his voice calm and controlled. They would work through their difficulties with the plans and this could be fine, Nick Fury would never ask anything too questionable of them. The man was a government agent for God's sake. It couldn't be that bad.
Logan snarled deeply before his claws slowly retracted, singing the air with a sickly wet snick and the sound of flesh melding together. "Fury wants us to infiltrate a weapons and drug ring that has possible links to Korean terrorists. He also wants us to pose as a gay couple and do anything necessary to make sure they believe it including; 'public displays of deep affection associated with a couple bonded and wed for over a decade'. Apparently the main contact for the Koreans, and the man we'll be working for, has a bisexual sister and has a partner himself and spends his days as a homosexual political rights activist."
He ground out as he took deep breaths trying to keep his temper, "No offense kid, but you're not exactly my type and apparently we're to share a bedroom and be in character 24/7 until Fury tells us to pull out."
Apparently, it could be that bad. This was so ridiculous a plan and so unpleasant a situation to imagine that Matt couldn't even force himself to laugh at it. This was taking the cake for any of the suggestions that he had been thinking about, including stripper personas. It wasn't really because homosexuality bothered him...but he wasn't particularly fond of the idea of forming a relationship with the other man.
"He can't really be serious." He finally managed, his tone still lawyer- confident and filled with his average sense of assurance.
Logan sent the blind man a completely useless glare. "Of course he's serious, baby. I mean, you know how much we've been dreaming of out here to be with our own kind." He cooed sarcastically as he made his way to the bookshelf indicated in the missive from Nick and found the stack of books and envelopes with their documents.
"Oh, how fucking wonderful," he muttered as he plopped back on the couch next to his husband and tossed books from the stack in his lap between them, reading the titles aloud for Matt's benefit.
"'Your Lover and You: How to effectively communicate for the gay couple', 'The Gay Kama Sutra', 'Sex for the Blind: How sight limits your sensations. Oh, and my personal favorite, 'Hot and Kinky Sex Positions: 1001 ways to pleasure your man'" he growled before opening the large manila envelope scanned the papers and smacked his head.
"Oh, look hunny, it's our identities!" he exclaimed in mock cheer. "Christopher James Clark and Lawrence Edward Wright, You're Lawrence apparently. You were born July 27th 1978 in Albany, New York. Your parents disowned you for our undying love and your brother occasionally writes you but you haven't seen him in three years."
"I am your older lover, born in '64 in Montreal and have a mom who loves me dearly but doesn't mind our staying in touch by phone and email as long as it is frequently. Apparently I went to the same school as you and we fell in love during a shared semester in Advanced Philosophy. We eloped to Canada where we were married and decided to move to a slightly warmer climate and more like minded people. We have a… cat which is about to die tragically when it gets hit by a fucking car cause I refuse to have a damn fleabag in this pitiful excuse for a house and our favorite positions are the cowboy and sixty-nine."
Matt frowned deeper and deeper as the explanation continued and carefully pushed the books back further towards Logan with the tips of his fingers. It didn't help him that those were some of his favorite sexual positions and now he was imagining them with his 'partner'. He wondered how that conversation would even arise that Fury would need to suggest that to them.
"I actually didn't take Philosophy in University." He gritted with a touch of insult, trying his best to ignore the rest for now. It was bad enough that he would put it off. "I took Christian Ethics in Theology."
Logan snorted and dropped their passports, marriage certificate and other legal documents back on the table. "Yes well, suffice to say you can have all the knowledge and my excuse can be I was too busy trying to get in your pants to pay attention, besides… church scares me." He retorted before standing and pulling Matt up with him to explore the house. "Let's take this god forsaken tour so we don't get lost if anyone comes over, where do you want to start?" He asked as he searched the other man's face.
"Not the bedroom." Matt growled, pulling his hand away from Logan sharply. He now meant to be as negative as he sounded and he even found himself crossing his arms and trying to stare down the other as if it had been his suggestion.
Logan snorted with laughter and decided to have some fun with the other man as he stepped closer and cupped the other man's face quickly, "Aw, whatever you say sweetheart!" He cooed before stepping back and walking out of the living room back towards the foyer. "Well we might as well explore the rest of the downstairs before going and seeing what is upstairs." He offered before walking through the doorway to the dining room.
Matt grabbed his cane from the couch and gestured towards where Logan had previously tossed a figure with the handle of it. "Don't forget to sweep that up." He grunted, tapping the cane harder against the floor than was needed to guide his way to his partner. He put his hand on his upper arm then when he found him, letting out a heavy sigh as he entered the dining room. "Which room is this one?"
Logan led him around the room as he answered, "It's the dining room, it has emerald green paint and dark wood furniture, its really fancy and rather poncy which I suppose is entirely fitting hmm, Sweetheart?" he said mockingly as he brought the man's hand down to stroke against the butter soft wood of the table and against the back of the chair.
"The door we came through has a straight shot without any obstacles to the kitchen." He said as he took the other man's hand and led him through the open doorway to the kitchen. It was rather quaint as was the rest of the house and had a carousal pot holder above a movable island and all silver appliances with the typical Martha Stewart-esque décor.
He spent the next ten or so minutes leading Matt around to touch all of the things in there before firmly claiming all cooking responsibilities. He led him to briefly explore the breakfast nook and the sunroom with the door to the garden. Before pulling him back through the dining room to the living room, "Do you want the tour here or just explore the upstairs?" he asked as he pulled his cigar from his jacket and chewed on the end for a moment.
"Don't you dare light that thing." Matt snarled when he smelled the waft of tobacco grow stronger in their home. The scent would cause a pounding headache unrivaled by many things legal if it were to get stronger and that was one of the last things he wanted to deal with while they were starting a staged relationship.
He let his hand fall to take firm hold of the other man's elbow again, fingers gripping tightly almost to warn him how much the scent was bothering him. "I'd just like to be shown around the upstairs and that would be fine for now."
Logan blinked in shock for a second before pulling the cigar out, "I don't smoke, I've just been in the habit of chewing on the damn things for at least the last forty years, though it has probably been more like 140 years." He offered softly before leading the other man up and absentmindedly putting the cigar back in his jacket.
"What does…our bedroom look like?" Matt questioned, his displeasure still barely veiled. The dull thump of their walk warned him that it was covered with yet another rug…possibly for sound-proofing. The thought didn't put him in a particularly good frame of mind and he found the bed quickly from the coolness it was giving off. "It's a fucking water bed!" He snapped in annoyance, temper finally pushed far enough.
Logan nodded then realized too late that the other man couldn't see him, "Yeah it's a waterbed, is that a problem?" he asked absentmindedly as he took in the pastels and florals surrounding them. He peaked into the closet and was grudgingly impressed at seeing it was a walk in before finding the bathroom and whistling, his mood stirring towards slightly less than murderous as their good fortune. "Hey, you might be a little less pissed once you see this beauty," he called out to Matt as he explored the black tiled sunken tub and double sink.
"I'd always be less pissed if I could see." Matt snorted, following after Wolverine briefly. He stopped at the edge of the bathroom to have the room described to him by the other man without a cease in the conversation. "I want separate beds." He added his tone sharp.
Logan let loose a small laugh as he turned towards the taller man and crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, "Yeah? Well, I would too but, unfortunately, the prick decided to set us up as a happily married gay COUPLE." He reminded needlessly.
"I'm Catholic." Matt reinforced, a hand coming out to feel the smooth cold counter. He found the sink quickly and dipped his hand down into it before bringing it back to feel over the faucet and the knobs. "We hate sex."
Logan snorted and walked by Matt, patting his shoulder condescendingly before exiting the bathroom and peaking into the study for a moment before turning back to face his…partner, "Really? That's not what I've been hearing," he teased as he made his way back into the bedroom and threw himself onto the bed, rolling happily with the waves he made.
"Well, you've been hearing wrong." Matt argued uselessly; it wasn't true and he knew that personally but it had been worth a shot.
Logan watched as Matt came in tapping his cane until he found the bed again and sat on it, forcing Logan to move his leg lest it become a chair for the taller man. "You know what the worst part about this whole damn thing is?" Logan said in a deceptively cheerful voice.
He grinned as he looked up at the ceiling to the room, "There isn't any food in the house so we get to go shopping together if we want breakfast! Isn't it just marvelous, Baby?" He teased and laughed bitterly as the other man finally cursed.