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There was nothing comforting about Benjamin Poindexter’s apartment. Pristine, almost clinically so, and devoid of personal photos beyond the one by the door, it reminded Ray of a doctor’s office. It was bare, angular. Ray couldn’t imagine calling that place home. He hated imagining Dex waking up to those blank walls, too.
Ray recoiled from the white paint, shocked by the image his mind had constructed without his permission: Dex, shirtless and smirking over a cup of coffee, whispering “Good morning” as he leaned across crisp sheets… He shook the fantasy away before it could form completely.
“Did you find something?” Daredevil asked. “Your heart rate increased.”
“That’s really creepy,” Ray deflected.
His face was hot as he turned his flashlight toward the spots Daredevil indicated. Despite the structured and deliberate detachment of the place, it still felt wrong to rifle through Dex’s things. To suspect Dex.
“There you go again.” Ray detected the frustration in Daredevil’s voice even before he added, “Protecting him only makes the situation worse for you.”
“I’m the one who gave him up.”
They kept searching. Ray liked Daredevil even though the guy was uptight and full of himself. Eventually they found the safe--Ray ignored the casual way Daredevil mentioned he could smell Dex’s suit while also ignoring the desire to ask how Dex smelled--and Daredevil was disappointed by its contents. The tapes simply made Ray sad.
Dex had major issues that needed addressing, but that didn’t make him the monster that the real Daredevil was hunting. Ray argued as much before--
“He’s here. You should go.”
“How close?” Ray hissed.
Daredevil cocked his head. “You can get out the front door, but you have to go now .”
Ray was moving before Daredevil finished speaking. The vigilante climbed back out the window and onto the roof, making more noise than was his style, probably because he was rushing. Ray sympathized; every footstep and heartbeat drummed like a marching band in his head. Blood rushed in his ears as he scrambled into the hallway, turning toward the elevator instead of the stairs at the last second.
Dex turned into the hallway the exact moment Ray pressed the ‘down’ button. His palms were sweaty, his mouth was dry, and his fingers drummed quickly against his thighs. Dex made a startled noise before saying, “Ray?”
Ray forced his feet to turn slowly. He counted his inhales, exhaling after each in an even rhythm. His voice came out steady when he answered, “Hey, you’re back.”
“Yeah.” Dex’s voice was flat. His whole body was taut and his hands were closed around something Ray couldn’t discern in the dim hall lights. “What are you…”
“I, uh.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to check in, ask how the meeting went, but then you weren’t home...”
Dex shoved his makeshift weapons his pockets and then gestured toward his apartment door. He smiled and there was a glint in his eyes that sent a flood of guilt through Ray’s stomach.
Once they were inside the apartment, Dex relaxed, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Ray knew the other man found comfort in order and cleanliness. And he must have been wrong about the detachment, because everything about Dex loosened as he roamed about, removing his jacket and grabbing a couple beers from the fridge.
It was a cold home. Nothing about it exuded the warmth and beauty of resting on the couch after a long day with Sami and Seema beside him. Yet it was important to Dex, important enough that Ray recognized that gravity of being allowed entry in the first place.
Ray wondered if Daredevil was still listening from above. If anything he knew about the guy was true, he was absolutely there, perhaps hoping Dex would snap on Ray so they’d have some concrete evidence.
Maybe that was unfair. Ray wasn’t sure of much anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing in that apartment since his instincts were set firmly to flight when faced with the possibility of Dex’s wrath. Looking at him, Ray realized Dex had been speaking and tried to focus on his words.
“...six months. What the hell am I supposed to do for six months?” Dex took long swig. His eyes pleaded with Ray for a definitive answer.
As he opened his mouth to answer, a small crash sounded from above. There was no mistaking the sound of a person landing after a particularly long jump. Dex and Ray had both been through the academy, heard the thud of a cadet hitting solid ground. Daredevil was on the move.
Dex leapt from his seat and rushed toward the safe. Ray caught his arm.
“Didn’t you hear that?” Dex hissed, nostrils flaring.
“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s probably just some dumb kids.”
“And what if it isn’t?” Dex nodded toward Ray’s gun. “We should check.”
“Dex,” he whispered, “stay.”
They stood staring at one another for a minute that stretched into a lifetime. Ray gradually became aware he was still holding Dex’s wrist and let go with the same slowness. When he stepped away, Dex followed. It was as if they were connected by a cord; each time Ray pulled, Dex reclaimed the distance. This continued until Ray, unaware and anxious as he was, backed into a table.
He stumbled and fell forward. Dex caught him around his waist. Before Ray was even balanced properly, Dex slid his hand over Ray’s jaw and smashed their mouths together. His teeth dragged across Ray’s lips before he pressed on. Ray’s limbs froze even as his lips parted and his eyes closed, betraying every sensible thought he had left in his aching head. Dex tasted like good coffee and a long day.
It was Dex who initiated and also Dex who broke away first. His eyes were wide when he faced Ray, but soon all Ray saw was the back of Dex’s head as he slipped away. Short hair, clean cut. As practical, precise, and impersonal as it could be.
Daredevil couldn’t have made it across the roofs yet. When Ray glanced out the window, he saw the vigilante scaling the side of the opposite building, hoisting himself up on ledges and balconies and fire escapes. If Dex looked back, Daredevil and Ray would be caught. Dex would kill them both if he knew.
Dex was completely still, his palms flat on his kitchen countertop, head down. Not trusting himself to speak, Ray lurched forward in a daze and wrapped his arms around Dex’s waist instead. The noise that came from Dex was made of pathetic relief and savage anger, bubbling deep in his throat before releasing in a low growl. His hands curled into fists. Ray loosened his grip.
“No, don’t,” Dex pleaded, so Ray hugged him tighter.
Ray couldn’t tell whose heart was beating loudest. A few seconds passed and Dex turned in Ray’s arms, breathing evenly, holding Ray’s shoulders, resting their foreheads together.
The ability to excuse his behavior as covering for Daredevil was long past. Dex’s breath was on his face. Ray shivered, grimaced, and looked to the side before Dex could kiss him again. Before he could kiss Dex back.
His whole chest constricted when he extracted himself from Dex. The absence of his warm skin was felt instantly, followed by the simple shock of physical separation. The weight of Dex could not be forgotten by his body no matter how hard Ray tried to discard it.
“My family, my wife …” Ray started. Suddenly the ring was heavy as lead on his hand.
Dex nodded curtly, the muscle in his jaw jumping. He dragged his palm over his mouth before asking bitterly, “Why even come here?”
Ray watched Dex’s fingers twitch and knew the violence he suppressed as the rejection hung in the air between them. He gave a wry smile. “This wasn’t exactly the plan, you know; there wasn’t some list: check on Dex, seduce him, then chicken out as soon as possible.”
That at least got a laugh. Dex’s next sentence, however, was a lightning strike through Ray’s marrow.
“You didn’t have to seduce me.” The word was spiteful, though not directed at Ray. He took a deep breath. “I was, already.”
“Dex, I--”
“Just go.” When Ray didn’t move, Dex shoved him toward the door, repeating leave until it was barely a word anymore.
And Ray left.