date night (daredevil, fisk, M)

[iety]

I recently watched the new Daredevil series on Netflix and really enjoyed it, in several ways. I am super predictable and will snap up any big man that is dangled in front of me, especially one as intriguingly developed as Wilson Fisk. So, I indulged myself with this little thing. No spoilers, just a fluffy date with Vanessa

****

Vanessa is wearing a new scent tonight. Wilson can tell as soon as she slips into the car, sliding over leather to warmly clasp his arm. It’s nice, a little more floral than usual, and it pairs well with her ever present smell of oil paints. His mind likes the perfume well enough, yes, but it doesn’t take long to realize that other parts of him do not. Just being in close quarters with her on the short ride to the restaurant is enough to kindle a waxing itch in the bridge of his nose. At least at this level, he can ignore the feeling easily enough. The real question was if it would remain as manageable for the rest of the evening.

They have dinner at a tiny place he’d heard of through Nobu. The small size works in its favor and the atmosphere is comfortably intimate. This close, Wilson still catches whiffs of Vanessa’s perfume whenever she turns her head or leans in close to tell him something especially important. The itch permeates his sinuses, spreading out feathery tendrils that are enough to make his head feel fuzzy. He can’t suppress a few sniffles, and hides them behind sips of tea and bites of sushi. He leaves the wasabi alone.

They talk about Vanessa’s preparation for the latest show at the gallery, about her work on personal projects. Wilson mentions little of his own life. It’s as consumed by business as usual, and he prefers to hear about her any day.

Before they leave, she gets up to use the restroom. As soon as she’s out of sight, Wilson pulls the handkerchief from his breast pocket and presses it to his nose, still folded, rubbing carefully at the still growing itch. It doesn’t have the intended effect, and his eyelids sink shut as the urge to sneeze swells. Wilson holds his breath against it, crushing the cloth to his nose now. A small restaurant isn’t the best place to do this. As it is, he barely fits in the booth, and fears that any sudden movements might destroy something. He’d prefer not to suffer an allergic fit in Vanessa’s presence at all, but as the need refuses to back off, that’s looking less and less possible.

Still distracted by his internal struggle, Wilson doesn’t notice Vanessa until there’s a hand on his arm and that floral scent in his nose. Moisture prickles up in his eyes and he feels his breath waver.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

He shakes his head dismissively, mouth opening to answer. Instead, he draws an involuntary breath and clamps the handkerchief to his face to twist away and down with a harshly suppressed sneeze. The table shakes, the salt and pepper shakers rattling together. Wilson raises gingerly from his seat, looking chagrined through the haze of irritation creasing his face.

“Perhaps not,” Vanessa smiles. “Bless you.”

Wilson attempts to answer, although he knows this is hardly the end of it. He only gets out a couple wavering syllables before he has to squash another unsatisfying, “hrrffsch!” That buys him at least a moment’s respite, enough to breathe out, “excuse me.” His voice scrapes roughly. Cloth still folded around his nose, he gives her another apologetic look.

“You’re excused,” she says, and takes his arm. “Let’s go, shall we?” Not anticipating an answer, she walks him out into the cool evening.

They step outside, and Wilson sneezes again, managing to render it almost totally silent. Vanessa catches the violent shudder it sends through his large frame, feels him tense impossibly with the effort of suppressing the outburst. Wesley is standing nearby, watching them with some concern. When Vanessa catches his eye and indicates that they need a moment, he shifts easily into the shadows. Then she can direct her attention to Wilson.

She lets go of his arm but lays a hand on his shoulder. His nose is buried in the handkerchief and he’s fervently rubbing it through the cloth with thumb and forefinger, fighting the sneeze even as his eyes squeeze shut in preparation. His broad shoulders are trembling with small hitched breaths.

“Please, don’t hold back on my account,” Vanessa says.

Wilson responds with a half vocalized huff that might be a laugh or might just be uncontrollable. He takes three broad strides away from her, finally snapping the handkerchief open, wide back swelling with a last deep inhale. The first, “HESZSSHUUE!” he lets out is immensely relieving, and strong enough to pitch him forward at the waist. He cups his hands over his nose and mouth, cloth bunched between them, breath already climbing on his build to the next sneeze. His efforts to hold this off have only made the end result worse.

“Hh...HRRSSSH! HRRSSZCH! Hhuh…” Wilson teeters on the edge, stuck between sneezing and not. He’s glad for the handkerchief hiding the open grimace of irritation his face is undoubtedly frozen in. Unexpectedly, he feels Vanessa’s hand on his back and smells her perfume once more, and that’s all it takes. Wilson turns away as best he can, loosing a massive, growling, “HRRISSZSCH’UUE!” that finally clears away the itch.

He keeps his face hidden for a moment longer, blowing his nose and dabbing at his eyes. As far as good impressions go, he hasn’t done well with most of his opportunities. When he turns to face Vanessa, he fears he'll see disgust, impatience or even boredom. Instead she’s just smiling, eyes twinkling with half concealed humor. The “god bless you,” she offers is sincere, but he’s glad she doesn’t look too worried.

“Thank you,” Wilson replies as he straightens up, voice gravel. He ducks his head apologetically. “I’m sorry. They...don’t take kindly to being suppressed.”

“I gathered.” Vanessa is smiling warmly, all good nature. Wilson forgets to feel embarrassed. Then she says, “it’s the perfume, isn’t it?” and he remembers a little.

“...yes,” he admits, noticing now that she is keeping her distance as they walk for the car. “But please,” he reaches out to carefully take her hand, and pulls her a little closer. “I don’t mind.”

**the end**

[froglatte]

Oh my goodness, that was so lovely and sweet!! I've never watched Daredevil and I'm not involved in the fandom but the story was so evocative and enjoyable, I might just have to check it out. Thanks for sharing it with us.

[beatlelover22]

Although I'm up for reading any and all Daredevil fics, this one was hands-down AWESOME. Fisk is an intriguing character and I love that you chose him to torture!!