Chapter Text
Matt had never considered himself unlucky. In fact he had never believed in luck at all, good or bad may it be. But, after three months of living with Vladimir Ranskahov he was beginning to think some deity hated him because his luck- or lack thereof- had taken a turn for the worse. His roommate was smug, obnoxious, and tended to have severe mood swings. Matt had taken to staying in Foggy’s room three floors down. The comments in Russian that were surely about him, the teasing comments meant to rile him in English, the constant shifting of furniture to make Matt trip… he could deal with that. He could.
It was the complete and utter lack of personal space, the dirty socks that found their way between his sheets, and the boxes of half eaten food on his books, that finally pushed him over the edge. The first few times he stayed at Foggy’s, he would return to find Vlad sprawled on his bed, growling into his phone. Matt was by no means fluent in Russian but he could make out the word payment. He tried not to think about the possibly illegal activity his roommate was into as he laid his cane on the bed and retrieved his books.
“You know, I am beginning to think you do not like me.”
“I wonder why?” Matt bit back, sitting down with his books in hand.
“You wound me.” Matt didn’t dignify that with a reply and Vladimir said something to him in Russian.
“Sorry, I don’t speak asshole. Try again later.”
*
"You can't let him force you out of your own room, Matt. No matter how scary he is with the scar and the accent." Foggy tossed his softball back into the air.
"He has a scar?"
"Not the point."
"Sorry, but it's not that easy. He has a way of getting under my skin, Foggy. I can't explain it." Foggy huffed a laugh, shaking his head
"The way you describe it, I would say that it sounds like he's pulling your pigtails, Matt." Matt cocked his head to the side ever so slightly.
"You're kidding. No Foggy, just no."
"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, buddy."
"Whatever you say Foggy."
*
Matt took up boxing.
He spent hours working the bag, or training on the mat when he had the time. He also showered at the gym, usually because his room had no hot water. Once again Vladimir’s doing. The first time he came back to the dorm with a dark bruise spreading over his cheek and a cut above his brow he almost believed Vladimir was concerned when he asked “What happened to you?” then he threw that thought out the window when Vladimir followed the question with, “Walk into a doorframe?” Matt looked in the Russian’s general direction
“No, I-”
“You should get dog.”
“I don’t need a dog, I was boxing.” He dropped his gym bag and threw himself into his bed. To his right he heard Vladimir snort.
“You are blind,”
“And that means I can’t box?”
“If state of your face is anything… yes.” Matt pulled the covers around his head.
*
"Hey Matt!" Foggy knocked on the door. "You're going to be late for class!" Matt sat up and ran a hand through his unruly hair. He opened the door and Foggy pushed inside. Matt heard him toss something, most likely his phone, onto the desk as he threw clothes at Matt.
"Foggy what time is it?"
"Half past get the hell up." The shower that was running cut off, and after a minute, during which Matt had changed into presentable clothing, the door opened.
"Why is he here?"
"He's helping me get my stuff. You couldn't wake me up?" Vladimir passed the friends with a shrug.
"I did not know. Is not my responsibility."
"Can you put on some clothes?" Foggy asked.
"Be grateful for the towel. Besides, we're leaving." Matt said leading the way out of the room.
Please don't let me be late.
*
The dorm was quiet, Vladimir was out doing god knows what, and Matt was enjoying the shower. The warm water felt amazing after three hours at the gym, and as far as Matt was concerned the rest of the world could wait. He stepped out from under the spray and reached for a towel. He toweled his hair so that it no longer was soaked and pulled on his pants. It was at this moment he realized he had left his shirt on his bed. With his sweatpants slung low on his hips he stepped out into the room.
"Do you always go shirtless when I am not 'round?" Matt stubbed his toe on the desk.
"I was taking a shower." Matt said, as he silently cursed himself for not hearing Vladimir come in. But, then again, it might not have mattered, since the other man had a way of moving soundlessly at times. It made Matt wonder.
"I know." A lazy smile spread across the Russian's face. As Matt began to pull his shirt over his head Vladimir said, "Please, no. I was enjoying the view." His own shirt was just low cut enough to reveal the dark ink of a tattoo. Matt whirled around, his dark eyes staring toward where Vladimir was lounged on his bed, which, had Matt ever been so inclined to touch, was immaculately clean. On par with Matt’s own side.
“Do you flirt with all your roommates, or is it just me?”
"Nyet. Just ones with pretty eyes." Matt growled and pulled his shirt down with more force than necessary. He turned his back to the Russian and picked up a random book from his desk. He didn't want to deal with Vladimir tonight. After what seemed hours of silence, though in reality was only 38 minutes, Vladimir spoke again.
"Forgive me, no? I did not mean to offend." His lips formed a small pout and he sat forward on the bed. Matt heard the springs creak and weighed the words on his tongue.
"No." Surprise overtook Vladimir's expression
"No?"
"That's what I said." Matt turned a heavy page in his text book the thick paper a comfort beneath his fingertips. An unspoken question hung in the air "You've been an absolutely terrible roommate for months. So no." Matt listened carefully but no noise came from the Russian other than the telltale sign of his breathing. Suddenly, the room felt far too small, Matt swore he could hear the other man's heartbeat. He stood. "I'm getting food, you want anything?" He tugged on his hoodie.
"I thought I was not forgiven." Vladimir said, cautiously.
"You aren't. But unlike some people, I'm nice. So, you want something?"
"No."
Matt left. Vladimir reached for his phone, an expensive thing that stayed near him always. He shot a text off and stood. He figured he had a few minutes before the man arrived; he took his time on the stairs.
*
The man in question was in his late twenties and failing two of his classes. He was quick tempered, with jet hair and wore a heavy silver ring on one hand. Vladimir was waiting for him on the sidewalk.
"Give me them." The man demanded without preamble.
Vladimir's expression was flat, "Money first, КОБЕЛЬ. You did not pay last time." In the dim light Vladimir watched him, the man’s face giving no clue as to what he was thinking.
"I need these, I'll pay you next time."
"Is what you said last time." Vladimir shot back, nearly before the man had finished speaking. "Pay now or go." Vladimir stared the man down, one pair of eyes blazing with pure fury, the other with cold indifference. The dark haired man broke first.
"You'll regret this."
"I doubt it." Vladimir waited until the man rounded the corner before he started back inside, a soft song on his lips.
*
"Thanks." The thick scent of Thai food filled Matt's nose as he headed toward his dorm. The usual night time noise and the light tapping of his cane lulled him with its familiarity. The hands that pulled him into the alleyway came as a surprise. The first punch did not. Matt dropped the bag he had been holding and its contents scattered across the ground.
He did his best to focus, barely dodging the next fist. The man who had grabbed him was taller than him, that much Matt could tell, and he struck out high. Clearly the man had not expected the hit. It caught his cheek and Matt delivered another blow to his stomach before the man managed to grab his shirt, slamming him against the wall. Hard.
"Shit!" Matt gasped. The next blows came in a flurry and the cold, unforgiving touch of metal split skin. Matt kicked out and collided with something, though his head was slammed back again for the effort. The man gripped Matt's hair and growled lowly
"Tell him next time, he had better give me what I want." With a last shove against the wall Matt was left to slump down until the ground took his weight. His head was spinning, his face was wet with both blood and tears of pain, and there was a burning in his side that refused to subside. He had the presence of mind to fumble out his phone and press the 1 button.
‘Foggy please pick up.’
*
Vladimir was pulled from his thoughts as the sound of buzzing filled the room. 'What the hell?' He looked around until he found the source. Matt's friend had left his phone on the table. With a smirk Vladimir answered.
"Foggy?"
"No. You're friend, he is forgetful."
"Vladimir," a few deep breaths over the line and Vladimir's smile slowly slid away. "Matthew?"
"I need someone to come get me. I'm in an alley about a block from the Thai place." A grunt, "I got jumped. If you can get Foggy or someone-"
"I am coming." Vladimir hung up the phone. He didn't bother with his jacket, for he had felt much colder weather than this. He jogged all the way to the Thai place, wary of moving
too fast lest he miss Matt.
*
Matt was laying with his head against the wall when he heard the heavy tread of boots.
"Matt." The thick accent was, for once, a comfort to his ears. A rough hand cupped his cheek and he winced as the pad of Vladimir's thumb brushed a cut. "РУГАТЬСЯ, You can stand, yes?"
"With help." Matt used one hand to push himself higher. Before he could get far, the Russian took his weight.
"My cane. I dropped it,"
"I have it." Vladimir tapped it against the wall to prove he had picked it up. He adjusted his grip around Matt and stepped forward. A few more steps and Matt stumbled, causing Vladimir to tighten his arm
"Should I carry you?" Matt didn't point out that Vladimir was practically carrying him already. Instead he shook his head.
"I'm fine. I'll make it." And he did. Matt would claim the reason he made it back to the dorm without tripping or making any noise above a small groan to his high tolerance of pain. Vladimir would claim it was out of pure Murdock stubbornness. The street was fairly deserted, a fact both men were highly grateful for since it allowed them to reach their building without question. On their floor a couple of other students were gathered in the hall. When one looked like he was going to say something Vladimir glared until he tapped his friend on the shoulder and returned to his own room.
Vladimir set Matt on the bed once he had gotten the door to their room open. He reached for the bottom of Matt's hoodie and lifted. "Wait! What are you doing?"
"Patching you up, ДУРАК. You do not think I believe your face is the only messed up thing no?" Vladimir rolled his eyes.
Matt suddenly felt sheepish, "Of course. But, I can get this myself. You should get the alcohol and things." Matt heard the other man move away and removed his hoodie and shirt with a wince. The bathroom cabinet slammed shut. Vladimir worked without a word, dabbing at the various cuts and moving his thumb in gentle circles whenever Matt tensed.
‘He's done this before.’ Matt thought.
When a large hand pressed against his side Matt's breath caught and Vladimir looked at him questioningly then pressed a bit harder. "Nothing is broken." The hand left. Vladimir was back in the bathroom now; he avoided his appearance in the mirror. He knew what he would find, disheveled dirty blond hair, a facial scar, and dark eyes haunted by one too many memories. He washed and dried his hands, taking a moment to splash some of the water onto his face before walking back to Matt.
"мне жаль"
"I still don't speak Russian."
"I said I was sorry."
Tell him next time he had better give me what I want.
"The man in the alley, he said to tell you to give him what he wanted, next time." Matt left the question unsung. He wanted to know what Vladimir would say. Would he volunteer the information, or avoid it? After tonight Matt didn't know which he expected, which he wanted.
"Drugs. He did not pay; I did not think he would go after others. I… will take care of this." Matt didn't like the sound of that but knew there was nothing he could do right now, and
if he was completely honest with himself, he would admit he didn't want to do anything to stop Vladimir from doing whatever he had planned. Matt reached out and snagged his wrist.
"Thank you, Vladimir."
"Go to sleep, Matt." As Matt lay down, a thought echoed around his head.
Things are about to change.