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Matt’s fingers trace over the lifted areas of scar tissue decorating all across Frank’s torso, on his back too. His touch is steady, searching with the quietest curiosity that Frank notices also manifests on his face in something so close to admiration.
It makes Frank stare, like an idiot even. Watching as Matt’s warm hand floats across his stomach, following a specific scar with interest, and his head tilts.
Matt pauses, fingers moving with even more intent, and Frank blinks as Matt smiles almost fondly, a huff of laughter.
“Y'know this kinda feels like one of those constellations,” Matt says, voice gently parting the silence that really only consisted of their soft breathes. He moves his lips in this way he does when he thinks, sliding across the whole of the scar once more. “Saw them in photos, really.” He starts to explain, then his nails tap against skin as he stops moving. “Until I couldn't, of course.”
Frank hums, nearly glancing over at Matt’s glasses sitting on the nightstand or the cane he’s got laying somewhere around here, even thinks about stories Matt’s eventually come to share with Frank about when he was younger and not being able to see with his eyes was a lot more terrifying.
Matt’s unfocused eyes settle more so around Frank’s shoulder than his face, then he tilts his chin up slightly. Frank knows it’s the man’s intention to be face to face so Frank meets him, sitting up a little straighter where he’s resting on the bed with a smile.
“That so, Red?” He asks lightly, he can hear this awfully affectionate tone in his words that reveals him so easily. Tells Matt how much he must be treasuring this. “I’ve got constellation scars?”
Matt smiles, offering a half-assed shrug as he anchors himself closer to Frank, hovering over him. “Pretty much.”
Frank feels this sensation of melting, Matt’s palm pressing against his chest after he drifts his hand upwards. There’s just this sincere purpose behind the action, something that has Frank bringing a hand up, finding Matt’s chin to tip it downwards towards him.
Matt’s all smooth and weightless with it, going along with the movement so easily just as he lets his lips part. He makes this small barely audible sound that’s nearly an exhale of relief, expectant when his eyes close and he shifts closer.
All Frank can do is kiss him, really. Give him what they both want and let himself sink into it all. There’s the sudden heat of Matt’s body when the man half climbs on top of him, a leg thrown between Frank’s thighs. There’s the feeling of Matt’s hair in between his fingers, braced on the back of his head like maybe he’ll never let go,
Who knows, really. At the very least Frank’s come to realize that this isn’t something he’s ever giving up- him and Matt.
He can feel a rather brash scar of Matt’s own underneath his fingertips when he lifts his other hand to Matt’s side, thumbing over it.
There’s this little declaration that dares to leap out of his throat when they break, when he lets himself skim over the expanse of Matt’s skin, all toned muscle and carrying reminders of his fights big and small. His cheeks are already flushed, biting his bottom lip before offering a smile Frank could totally count as menacing. Since Matt obviously knows what he’s doing, sitting here shirtless and half in Frank’s lap at this point. It’s basically baiting him which makes the words in Frank’s head nearly spill over out of his lungs.
In his head he can’t stop saying Matt’s beautiful, handsome, a sight to see really. But before he can say it out loud his face grows hot and he ends up swallowing it down, squinting at the scar that slashes across his upper chest like it’ll either better prepare himself to verbalize his thoughts or better maintain them.
“Quite the canvas,” Frank says instead, this dumb chuckle afterwards like it’ll help make up for any sort of embarrassment he might feel. It might work really, because he’s instantly moved on and found himself kissing Matt again, cutting off the start of his amusement.
“Frank,” Matt eventually breathes out, lifting his head away the same time one hand grabs at Frank’s shoulder. Which is contradicting, to be honest. Pulling him closer while turning his head in a different direction. Frank almost smirks at that and instead simply hums in response to his name. “Y'know if we start doing this every time you need so much as a bandaid, we'll never get done taking care of this-”
Matt pats the bandaging on Frank's arm, recently applied and the injury underneath newly acquired as well. Just like the bruise spreading across his lower stomach, a smaller cut to along with.
Since, yeah, he supposed what started the undressing and scar tracing was the wound care, really. Huddling into Matt's bedroom after a whole night of tagging alongside Daredevil.
It was a small blade, anyways, Frank thinks. Knows he's had worse and Matt was just batting eyelashes at him with the most tempting act of playful innocence.
So maybe he grunts a little, not quite annoyed but impatient. “Come on, Red. No big deal.”
Could have been worse, too. Matt's got that ridiculous suit, though. Kevlar and whatnot, seems to work well enough that he's only come out with little bruising and a busted lip this time around.
“At least let me put the kit up.” Matt offers with this sigh, acting like he doesn't squeeze his hold on Frank before slipping away, like he doesn't hide a teasing smile with his back towards Frank. The nerve, really. Yet Frank finds all he can do is watch with that endearment his gaze.
“Don't take too long, doc,” He calls out, beaming with the half laugh and half groan Matt lets out like it's the worst thing he's heard all week.
“Wouldn't think of it,” Matt says simply and eventually he returns, blushing and yet ever so confident in the way he wants, in how he sinks into the bed with Frank and lets the man wrap his arms around him.
Frank kisses him again, scars pressed up against scars as he falls willingly into the softness of it all. Something he couldn't possibly give up, really. Never the pleased noise that falls from Matt nor the feeling of his lips pecking against his cheek once twice, then at his own. Wants to keep it all and Matt's honest laugh and near cocky grins.
It's not even close to the first night and Frank already knows he'll be savoring every moment like perhaps it really is, as if only now he's getting to see Matt like this and so he's got to stick it all to memory.
Maybe Frank just can't help it, who knows. Forever bound to end up soaking in the details of Matt and let the whole of it brand itself across his mind where it belongs. Capturing it all from the smoothness and scarred skin, to the gentle hunger of his lips and curiosity bared teeth.
He had said quite the canvas and he means it, really. Means it and more.