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Peter knew that Matt was not his soulmate because for him, the Earth continued to spin achromatically and dull as it had always been. It was without the vivid liveliness that people often described the world to be like when finding that special someone. He had a feeling there was more to it than that, but how could one possibly describe the reds and blues of life to someone and expect them to understand?
Peter only knows that his costume is sewn together with reds and blues because the fabric labels that stared back at him told him so. He hadn’t a clue if it was even visually pleasing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care because he would willingly give up the idea of seeing in color a thousand times over for the privilege of loving Matthew Murdock
Matt on the other hand would never know if he encountered his soulmate. He could have already met them before, might shake hands with them in the future, could run into them at any moment in his life. But the fact that he couldn’t see, let alone in color, meant that he would never know who that person was and that he’d never know if Peter was actually his.
Peter often felt insecure. Matt never expressed care or interest in this soulmate business because he couldn’t see, so it left Peter wondering that if given the chance to meet his soulmate, would Matt take it?
He had asked him that too one night, when they had both made it home to their shared apartment after a night of patrol. Matt was just toeing off his boots by the window, but his fingers stopped on the straps when Peter had asked his question. He stood back up, leaving the straps alone to angle his head in Peter’s direction.
“You are my soulmate, Pete.” Matt said, peeling back his cowl, “What’s this about? Hm?”
Peter rested a hand on the back of his neck and worried his lip.
“Your real soulmate, Matt.”
Matt frowned, running his fingers through the hair stuck to his forehead, flattened by the mask he had removed. He knew that he was not Peter’s soulmate and could practically feel the uncertainty radiating from him. The little scenario Peter had spun for him was impossible, but he understood. Matt couldn’t see, but it wasn’t as if he simply settled for Peter. If anything, it just meant he had the privilege of choosing for reasons that did not include sight, which foolish romantics were prone to doing. Matt was not a hopeless romantic. His parents had been soulmates, and he knew just how well their relationship turned out.
“We live together, eat the same food, and sleep together.” The older man said patiently, not completely betraying just how silly he thought Peter’s insecurity was,“I hardly think there’s a difference, Peter. Now, what’s this about?”
Peter shrugged lamely and folded his arms across his chest, leaning up against the window sill. Peter didn’t know what had brought this on. Perhaps he had finally given into the curiosity niggling at him, fueled by his insecurity. Who would give up the chance to meet their soulmate?
“I was just wondering is all, Matt. I mean this is the stuff of dreams and movies. I know you can’t tell either way since you can’t see-”
“No, you’re wrong,” He interrupted him,"I could definitely tell alright. I could tell that you might as well- No, that you’re already my soulmate.” Matt moved, stalking closer to Peter, reaching up to cradle the side of his face. The cool leather of his glove made Peter’s heart stutter, and a slow smirk spread across Matt’s face.
“I can tell you just exactly how I know. Would that make you feel better?” Matt asked, his quiet voice low but resonant, fitting in so well with the stillness of the night that it did nothing to disturb its silence. His hand dropped to Peter’s hip, fingers digging into his skin.
“I meant color, Magoo.” Peter chuckled, assuming that the other hero was just coming onto him, but when Matt’s expression didn’t change he waited for the man to continue, feeling guilty when he realized Matt wasn’t just messing around,“Oh. You were serious. Sorry, sorry. Go on.”
“Well, colors aside, your mouth when you’re not giving me lip. The sound of your voice… It’s like home.” Matt’s thumb stroked his lower lip, and he pecked Peter on the lips, “And I’ve never even needed sight to know color either so I’m not missing out on much. You could say that I’ve always felt it I suppose. Call it a kind of synesthesia.”
“Isn’t that a condition?”
“I said you can call it that, not that it was.”
Peter quickly got over whatever guilt he was feeling when he was slammed back against the window, not hard, but with enough strength to make the glass shake behind him. Matt was kissing him now, holding him against the window with the grip he had on his face.
Peter made a noise of complaint against his mouth due to the uncomfortable position this put him in, but he couldn’t help arching up against Matt anyway, hand pressing against the glass behind him so that he could hold himself up.
“I can feel red for example.” Matt murmured into his ear, breaking the kiss to start working off the bottom part of Peter’s suit. Peter kicked them off, along with his boxers once Matt got them down; and he yanked the top portion of his costume up overhead, chucking it somewhere to be found later in their living space.
“Red?” Peter snorted cluelessly as Matt hoisted his legs up around his waist. He dropped his hands onto the padded material on Matt’s shoulders when he was pulled away from the window and brought down onto the couch. Suddenly he was very, very aroused and Matt had yet to remove any part of his uniform, save for his cowl. Peter could feel the drag of the leather from his gloves on the back of his thighs as his hands roamed their way up to his knees, knocking them apart. He let out a sharp breath. This was something new.
“Isn’t red a bad thing?” He asked, something in his voice wavering when Matt got in between his legs allowing Peter to feel his uniform against his bare ass, rubbing against the skin of his inner thighs. His hips jerked of their own accord, and Matt pinned them down with one hand.
“Red isn’t a bad thing when I do this,” Matt corrected, moving down low where he planted a kiss onto the V of his hips right above his dick, sucking the very same spot and blemishing the skin there.
“Matt…” Peter groaned, screwing his eyes shut tightly. For a moment Peter understood what Matt meant clearly. He felt red all over. Felt red when he threaded his fingers through the older vigilante’s hair. Felt red when he finally felt Matt’s tongue teasing over the new love bite that marked his skin. He tilted his head back, hitting it on the armrest of the couch, and bit his lip.
He had to let go when Matt pulled back, but that didn’t stop him from making his disapproval clear when he whined in protest.
“Pretty…” Matt chuckled, hearing the sound, wanting more still, knowing that Peter allowed filthier things to spill from his lips before. Matt gave his nipple a pinch, twisting sharply, making the younger hero suck in air through his teeth. He did the same to the other, making sure they pebbled beneath his touch. It felt like red too, leaving Peter’s skin with a tender sensation that had his ears feeling hot. Matt’s little laugh didn’t help matters either. Peter felt his cheeks grow warmer when the man’s chuckle sent vibrations through him in their close proximity.
“Purple.” Matt suddenly said, removing one of his gloves so that he could feel Peter’s muscles tremble and tighten under his touch when he let his fingers drag down his chest, splaying his fingers out against his stomach.
“Purple what are you- Oh...” Peter stifled his strangled gasp when Matt began rocking his hips, grinding against his backside. He had a feeling the leather was going to leave his skin chafing later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Purple. Desire. Want. I want you right here on the couch. Right now.” Matt hissed when the friction he was getting from bucking up against Peter wasn’t enough for him anymore.
”I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember why you thought I’d ever trade you for someone else. I didn’t think I needed to give you a reminder.”
Peter didn’t have to wait long for him to back up his promises. Matt tapped his side in a silent gesture for him to turn over, and Peter quickly complied, shifting over for him onto his hands and knees.
“I wouldn’t either, y’know.” He mumbled as Matt pressed a hand in between his shoulder blades, gently guiding him down further until his chest touched the couch cushions and he was holding himself up solely with his knees.
Matt’s now single gloved hand smoothed its way down Peter’s spine. It felt foreign and it was probably dirty from patrol, so he had no idea why this turned him on as much as it did. Peter shivered and pressed his face into the couch’s armrest but yelped into it in surprise when Matt brought his hand down with a sharp smack to his ass. The cold material of his glove bit into his skin, leaving a sting burning on his cheek.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself…” Matt said, so brazenly it made Peter huff and halfheartedly kick him in the side. He rested his forehead on the armrest of the couch, fighting the urge to groan in anticipation when he heard the sounds of Matt’s shifting to get his own pants off. There was also a wet, slick sound that filled the silence as he sucked his fingers to get them wet.
“Ohmygod, I hope you aren’t sucking on your glove…” Peter breathed into the armrest only to jump when it earned him another smarting smack on the backside with what he could feel was a bare hand.
Matt soothed the sting with his hand as he spread him, leaving him exposed to the cool air. Peter shivered and closed his eyes when Matt began working two wet fingers into him. It burned given that they were only using spit for lubrication and he grunted, erection waning at the slow stretch of Matt’s fingers easing him open.
“Matt!” Peter nearly shouted, quickly becoming interested again when Matt struck his prostate dead on, driving his fingers in deep and incessantly against that spot. Pre-come began to leak onto the couch, dampening the cushion under him.
“There we go… Beautiful.” Matt praised making him blush all over again. He pressed back, against Matt’s fingers, seeking more stimulation, his own fingers digging into the couch when he felt them curve inside of him.
“Matt… Matty please, come on, come on…” Peter urged him, clenching around Matt’s fingers, trying to take them back in when the man withdrew them in a long drag. Matt spit into his palm and slicked himself up, hissing at the slide of his own hand.
Peter could never imagine trading Matt for the ability to experience color with someone else. Not when he felt the man’s hand on his skin, lovingly stroking his thigh when his legs were beginning to shake. Not when he lavished reds and purples of his very own with each press of his lips onto the small of his back.
“When you find your ‘soulmate,’ Peter,” Matt said dryly against the curve of his spine,"Tell them that unfortunately for them you’re mine.”
Matt’s teeth sunk into his skin, making Peter cry out and lurch forward in surprise. He accidentally smacked his forehead on the couch, but was too distracted by Matt to take actual notice.
Peter shook his head as much as he could making Matt raise a brow when he pulled away. He ran the pad of his thumb over the forming love bite as he slowly began to split him open on his cock. Peter almost sobbed, choking on it when Matt dragged him back by the waist so that he was fully sheathed inside of him.
“No? You’re not mine?” Matt asked when he finally began rocking his hips, but hardly enough to be anywhere near satisfying. His movements were just short of teasing, never hitting that spot.
“I’m yours!” Peter hastily corrected in a stream of babbling, anything to make him go harder anything to get Matt to really take him,”O-Only yours, There’s nobody else… C’mon Matty, please!”
Matt drew his hips back and slammed forward. Peter’s legs finally gave out from underneath him but Matt did not relent. He only dropped closer until his leather clad chest was pressed up flush against Peter’s back, plunging back into him.
Peter’s fingers squeezed the armrest so tightly that he was fairly sure it would leave impressions but Matt’s hand was suddenly right atop of his, lacing their fingers together as he rolled his hips in a way that had Peter’s mouth falling open.
“Mine.” Matt murmured warmly into his ear, his pace quickening, making the couch squeak in protest. His lips pressed against the crook of Peter’s neck, but it did nothing to muffle the little grunts Matt made by his ear.
Peter whimpered against the couch, a bit of drool leaving his lips where he bit firmly into the armrest, and suddenly the sensations were too much. He squirmed beneath the man, tears of pleasure welling in his eyes. Matt’s hand squeezed his and Peter trembled, coming with Matt’s name on his lips, muffled by the couch.
But Matt didn’t stop, hissing when Peter tightened around him, driving in again and again, seeking his own relief. Peter could only take it, giving a hoarse sob when the overstimulation dragged out his orgasm.
Finally Matt came, groaning against the side of his neck, staying there for a moment, inhaling Peter’s scent, altered by his own and the smell of sex heavy in the air.
"You’re heavy.” Peter grunted into the sofa, nudging at him.
“Bullshit, you lift entire cars.” Matt snorted but complied and got off of him, allowing Peter to shift out from under him. The younger hero was suddenly able to feel the slick stickiness of his thighs, but ignored it in favor of scooting closer to Matt to rest his head on his shoulder.
Matt’s arm immediately brought him closer and he buried his face into Peter’s sweaty hair, which Peter felt was kind of sweet in a gross way.
Not able to let the moment pass silently, Peter cleared his throat.
"So, I think red might maybe be my new favorite color then.”