Foggy doesn't know what time Matt usually gets home from his nightly patrols. Thankfully its Friday so it doesn't much matter if he ends up staying up half the night awake waiting. All the same Foggy's glad he brought two six packs with him. Matt has terrible taste in beer and Foggy knows it would be less than polite to invite himself into Matt's apartment then spend half the evening stealing his friend's beers. So by 1 am he finds himself sprawled on Matt's couch, half a dozen beer bottles decorating the coffee table. He was very nervous about talking with his friend after their blow up at the office earlier. But sitting alone in Matt's quiet apartment, slowly drinking beer all night, has thankfully mellowed him out considerably. He's thought it through, come up with a mental battle plan and is ready to calmly talk things over, and possibly apologize if need be. He's not sorry Matt knows he talked with Maggie. Matt has, a bit grudgingly, made peace with the fact that Foggy meets up with his mom to talk. He probably knows Foggy actually see's more of her than Matt does himself. There had been a lot of arguing, a number of accusations, a pile of suspicion and hurt feelings all around but they'd eventually got to this point where he is (usually) fine with the fact that Foggy likes to talk with Maggie. But now it seems like there were some topics that need to be avoided for the sake of all parties concerned. They'd barely even talked about it anyway – Foggy really needed to get Matt to understand that the last thing he was doing was having any kind of detailed and weird talks with Maggie about who her son did or didn't sleep with.

Foggy hears the rooftop door open and Matt silently enters. In the shadows he can make out a tired looking Daredevil slumping against the railing at the top, bent, forehead on folded arms. He looks like he's not planning on moving which is weird cause that's just an awkward place to roost. Matt suddenly jolts up, seems like he only now notices his visitor.

"Foggy," Matt greets him as he makes his way down the stairs. His tone is neutral which Foggy decides is not a bad sign per say but it doesn't exactly put him at ease either. "Give me a couple minutes to get changed." Matt pulls off his mask, heads into his bedroom. He leans back out of the room to adds, "And some of those beers better be for me," a small smile on his lips.

"You know it," Foggy says, already feeling the tension releasing from his chest. He heads to the fridge to grab a couple cold ones.

"How were things out there tonight?" he asks even though he kind of doesn't want to know.

"The usual," Matt says from the bedroom. He comes out a moment later, shrugging into a threadbare hoodie. Before he zips it up Foggy does not miss way his side is red mottled purple. It looks like it hurts and is probably going to look quite a bit worse tomorrow. He assumes Matt can feel his stare when he waves off any concern before it starts. "It's nothing. You should see the other guy," smiling like it's a joke.

Foggy internally cringes as he remembers Brett's call. 'No, this is definitely not the time to bring that up,' he decides. He'll have to tell Matt what Brett said at some point, and better sooner than later, but he hasn't figured how to broach that topic. That's definitely not why he came by tonight. 'One drama at a time,' he reminds himself.

Matt settles into a corner of the couch, beer in hand, fluffy plaid throw on his lap.

"You sure you're okay?" Foggy asks.

"Tired," Matt admits, drinking his beer.

"I didn't mean to keep you up. If you need to get to sleep I understand," Foggy says really hoping that's not the case cause he didn't spend all night waiting around only to leave without talking.

"No, its not like that. I mean the good kind of tired," Matt explains, squirming lower on the couch, getting more comfortable by stretching out one leg to accommodate his bad hip.

"There is no good kind of tired."

"Agree to disagree," Matt says easily and clearly not spoiling for a fight. "Have you never worn yourself out physically to the point you feel … I don't know, settled?"

"No, I literally have no idea what that means. Do even remember those couple times I tried to go to the gym? I was miserable afterwards and had to order pizza to drown my sorrows. I would not call that in anyway settled."

"Aww Foggy, you have no idea what you're missing," Matt says fondly, draining his beer.

"Yeah, you can keep all that. But really, if it makes you feel better, more settled, then good."

He gets up and grabs a couple more beers from the fridge, feeling confident now that he's thankfully managed to find Matt in a good, calm mood. He'd had his questions, arguments and counter-arguments carefully planned out in his head. And he promptly abandons them in favour of just talking with his best friend.

"I'm sorry we ended up arguing earlier at work. That's not what I wanted to happen. I swear to God Matt I don't sit around talking about your sex life with your mom. It really did just come up in passing and the context was really just about how we both just want you to be happy."

Matt nurses his beer silently for a few moments. Foggy can almost hear the gears turning in his head.

"Okay. But WHY were you talking about it? It really doesn't have anything to do with you. With either of you," he says evenly.

'Time to take a bit of a risk,' Foggy thinks. 'This shouldn't even be that weird, we use to talk all the time about the girls we hooked up with. Pretty sure we were constantly living vicariously through each other's fun. Of course it's a bit different being full on adults rather than school kids.'

"Have you been with anyone since…"

"Since when?" Matt asks, clarifying but not avoiding the question.

"Since the whole coming back from the dead thing," Foggy blurts out quickly, still not comfortable with even mentioning it aloud.

"I did not come back from the dead, Foggy. You really need to stop saying it like that."

"Funny, your mom hates it when I call it that too," Foggy admits.

"Because I didn't die. And its … weird when you say it like that."

"Okay fine. Let me re-phrase: have you slept with anyone since Midland Circle fell?" and Foggy feels like that sounds even more awkward, its taking a lot of events that happened over a fairly short period of time and slapping an overly simple label on it. But if Matt doesn't want him to keep referring to it as rising from the dead he never will again.

Matt sighs, runs a hand absently through his hair. "No."

"Is that on purpose?"

"Not really sure you can have sex by accident but yeah, okay, I guess so."

"Is it cause of Electra?"

"Um, I don't know … maybe?"

"Cause I know it almost killed you when you guys broke up that first time," Foggy says. Matt doesn't deny it, just nods and keeps quiet.

"But Matt, once you bounced back you were like … sleeping with so, SO many girls."

Matt rubs at the back of his neck uncomfortably. He can't hide the flush on his cheeks. But even as he ducks his head Foggy can't tell if its embarrassment or smug pride he seeing. He can't tell if Matt's taking the comment as a dig or a compliment.

"Look, far be it for me to be anything other than sex positive but like why so many different people? Why didn't you just pick one or two and stick with them?" He doesn't need to add, 'like I did,' cause he's sure that's implied.

Matt stalls, drinks his beer, fidgets with his throw, buying time, obviously thinking how to best answer that.

"So you know how I can read people's responses, right. How I can sense their autonomic and involuntary responses?"

"Yeah," Foggy says, remembering for not the first time how creepy and invasive he still finds that but aware now is not the time to voice those opinions.

"Well sex is really, really interesting with that stuff. I mean, I don't exactly have a basis of comparison for sex without being able to sense all that of course."

"Of course," Foggy agrees. Its not like Matt had been having sex prior to his heightened senses developing since he was just a kid when that happened.

"So its really fun the first time to read someone and … figure them out, to discover what they want, what they need, to make it good for them."

"Okay sure, first time is either awkward as shit or a new blast," Foggy agrees.

"Yeah, well its not that interesting the second time around. Or sometimes its good enough for a few times but then it gets … I don't know, boring?"

"You don't like to sleep with the same person because its gets boring?" Foggy asks somewhat incredulously. "After one or two times?"

"Boring isn't the right word. Maybe … just not challenging?"

"You're complaining that sex is what, too easy?"

Matt shifts around in his seat and looks decidedly uncomfortable. Foggy takes pity on him and steers the conversation slightly differently.

"Okay but you stayed with Electra. And I know you slept with her like a million times."

"The exception to the rule?" Matt offers though he clearly knows that's not an explanation. "It was different with her. She made everything so …"

"Hard," Foggy asks, smiling at his double entendre.

"Yes."

Foggy is really, really trying to understand but the further they get into this the more he thinks their sex lives and experiences are actually not comparable whatsoever.

"So let me get this straight: you liked Electra because she was what, difficult?"

"No Foggy," Matt says, his expression wistful. "I loved her because she was impossible."

For a few minutes they just silently drink their beer.

….

"What about Karen?"

"What ABOUT Karen?" Matt replies evenly.

Foggy just stares a Matt, says nothing.

Finally Matt says, "The one that got away," with a dismissive sniff. He's trying really hard to act like its no big deal but Foggy can feel the hurt bleeding from him five feet away. "I was so afraid of messing that up and, what do you know, I totally did."

Matt has a bad habit of either not accepting blame when he should (and conversely taking on the guilt of things that are way out of his hands – the guy's has yet to find a reasonable middle ground) so Foggy's mildly impressed Matt is fessing up to his role in that relationship's demise.

"Looking back on it now do you understand why that relationship imploded?" Foggy asks, really hoping Matt has improved on his understanding of how relationships actually work given that he seems to be taking responsibility for his part in its destruction.

"Pretty sure Karen walking in on me having Electra in my bed killed any hope of us being together."

"Electra wasn't the problem, Matt. Or not most of it anyway. The problem was you kept lying to Karen," Foggy explains patiently. Silently he adds, 'And you kept lying to me too, dammit!' but keeps that last part to himself.

"Yeah well, it doesn't much matter now anyway, does it? End result is still the same. You know the worst part? I really did love Karen. Maybe, I guess I still do even. I mean, not that it matters." He takes a swig of beer before continuing, "And not to cheapen it, but you know what makes it even worse? Somehow I can just tell I would never have gotten bored with her. I mean in bed AND otherwise. God, she's amazing," Matt says sadly, shaking his head.

'Ouch,' Foggy thinks and scrambles to change the direction of the conversation before Matt becomes even more depressed sounding. "Okay so answer me this: Electra notwithstanding, why did we always have the same taste in women? Like every girl you hooked up with was super hot but not just that, she'd was always my taste. How is it we had exactly the same taste in girls?"

"Ah, you're probably not going to like this answer," Matt warns him.

"What?" he asks warily.

"So I can get a feel for a lot of things on a lady across the room. There's a lot I can sense off her."

"Okay."

"But ultimately its pretty handy to get a second opinion."

"You didn't ask what I thought all the time when we went out to the bars and in classes and stuff."

"I didn't need to cause I could read you too."

"Huh?"

"I read YOUR reactions. I kinda used you as my eyes."

"You picked hot girls based on MY reactions to them?"

"Yeeeah, pretty much. So that's probably why it seemed like we had the same taste. Uh, I hope that doesn't make you mad, Foggy."

"I have never been mad that you used me for my eyes, Matt," Foggy says honestly. "It's a little weird that you didn't tell me you were reading me like that though."

"Well, you didn't know about my senses back then," Matt points out.

"You couldn't have just asked me, 'Hey, is that girl over there hot?'"

"And I did … sometimes. Its just … um, its better to get a read off your involuntary responses. Its more … honest."

"I'm trying really hard not to be creeped out by this," Foggy admits.

"I'm sorry."

"But you know what this means?"

"No?" Matt says hesitantly.

"I'm an even better wingman that I thought!" Foggy says with a smile, leaning forward to clink the neck of his bottle off Matt's.

….

"I could put Tinder on your phone," Foggy offers. "And I could tell you what the pictures look like, you know, which ones we find hot."

"Yeah no. That's not enough info for me to make a decision."

"But-"

"Even with you looking at the pictures, Fogs. Thanks but no. I'll pass. Let's uh, swipe right on that idea, okay?"

"We could go bar hopping?"

"I don't really even want to try to pick anyone up right now, Foggy."

"Cause of Electra?" he asks quietly.

"Kinda. I mean nothing is ever going to be as good as that."

"So you're just not going to try? Matt there's seven and a half billion people on earth."

"Meaning?"

"So that's 3.75 billion other women. Say we exclude anyone under 18 and over 65."

Matt nods, agrees with this specification.

"Okay so that leaves like 3 billion ladies. Hell, if you expand your horizons a bit that's 6 billion other people you could have sex with."

Matt doesn't look thrilled but doesn't argue it either.

"Are you honestly saying you think out of 6 billion people you can't find one that you like having sex with as much as Electra?"

"So now you want me to sleep with 6 billion people? Weren't you saying earlier I shouldn't have screwed my way through half of Columbia?"

Of course he starts bringing up stuff from their earlier argument now.

"I think you probably left a lot of girls wondering what happened," Foggy says honestly.

"Hey, I always, ALWAYS made sure they enjoyed it. I wasn't taking advantage of anyone," Matt says, starting to sound a bit defensive.

"That probably made it worse for them honestly."

"Excuse me?"

"How do you think those girls took it when you had good sex together but you still didn't want to see them again? That's probably more confusing than if it wasn't good, at least then they'd have a reason why you avoided them afterwards."

"Oh," Matt says. Maybe he never thought of it that way. Judging by the look on his face he probably didn't. "I thought cause I always made them happy it was okay."

'That's alarmingly simplistic logic,' Foggy thinks. "Look, I'm not saying you took advantage of anybody, okay? Don't go building up a case of guilt over this. I'm just saying that hooking up with a pile of girls but never staying around to make a relationship out of it isn't really right for anybody involved."

"Yeah but I didn't WANT a relationship with any of them."

"Don't you see how that's kind of a problem? You try that hard at sex and at least some of them are going to think you really care."

"So you want me to have sex with 6 billion people but not unless I want to build a relationship with them?"

"Ugh, no. That's not-"

"You can't have it both ways – you can't tell me I shouldn't have had sex with that many people then turn around and tell me to sleep with half the planet."

"Why DID you sleep with so many girls when we were in school? Especially after Electra. Just honestly, why?"

"Uh, cause I wanted to have sex with them?" Matt says as if the answer couldn't be more obvious. "It doesn't seem like I should have to explain this. Besides, you were having plenty of sex then too."

"Yes, with the same half dozen girls. Repeatedly."

"Look I already explained why I didn't go back for repeats much. I know it might not make sense to you-"

"Did you really keep trying new people cause you got bored or were you looking for someone you liked as much as Electra?"

Matt sighs, scrubs a hand across his face. He turns his head and is clearly trying his best to stare down Foggy in the eyes. Its mostly successful given they're at short range.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to hear that you're not giving up … on sex, on trying to find someone, on all of it."

Matt gets up, turns his back on Foggy and faces the window. On anyone else the gesture would seem like they're looking outside for something, anything, an escape maybe. When Matt does it its just a clear sign he's putting distance between himself and everything else.

"Foggy I loved her. I loved her so much and she kept coming back to me. And I could have died happily in her arms that night."

"You pretty much did," Foggy softly points out and damn, it still hurts to hear this.

"Then why am I still here and how am I suppose to move on?" he asks, voice breaking, shoulders shaking.

Foggy has no good answers.