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| [ Fishing] by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) aleathiel and [ The Deep Sea Mix] by amatiaMatt/Ben. Quiet, lovely, and a little sad. The water is still, smooth as proverbial glass except for the ripples where tiny splashes lap the edge of the boat and the circles that expand and stretch into extinction around Matt’s line and Ben doesn’t even like fishing. But he’s here in the cold afternoon sun because Matt does. | |
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| [ Penalty Kill] by fran_de_salesMatt/Ben. Oh God, ow. In a very good way. It was ironic, given the meticulous planning they'd put into achieving these careers, that they hadn't had a plan for dealing with their relationship. They'd deliberately ignored the issue – and, fuck, did he hate thinking of the defining relationship of his life, of – if he was going to allow himself to be sentimental, which, after three and a half beers, couldn't really be avoided – of his one true love being a fucking 'issue'. | |
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| [ Marked] by cupidsbowMatt/Ben. Hot and pretty. "Don't mark me," said Matt, voice hoarse and uneven. "I have to shoot close-ups tomorrow."
With an eloquent groan of complaint, Ben pulled back before the bite broke skin, soothing the spot with tongue and lips.
"Just head and hands," said Matt, letting go of Ben and pulling at his own dress-shirt, trying to get it free of his pants. "Do whatever the fuck else you want." | |
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| [ Daredevil's Dilemma] by cupidsbowMatt/Ben. This is good and long and sharp and lovely. “I suck,” said Ben, looking down at a script, a yellow highlighter pen poised in one hand.
“Not that I’m disagreeing,” said Casey, as he twisted the Gameboy controls violently. “But what, in particular, is causing you to suck today?”
Elektra executed a perfect head and chest punch combination that sent Daredevil flying.
“Bastard,” said Matt, wrenching his own controls, so that Daredevil launched himself in a flying headbutt that took Elektra right in the stomach.
“I can’t kiss men,” said Ben, sadly. “I suck at it.” | |
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| [ Ten Rounds Before Breakfast] by fran_de_salesMatt Damon/Ben Affleck. There's a lot going on in this story, and it's very good stuff. "On top of all that, you're worried about your boss's life, because, Jesus, his blood alcohol level has got to be in the stratosphere. You've got to get Ben out of that room, and you don't know how. So you pick up the phone." Matt drew hard on his cigarette, and stared at her, throwing all the force he'd ever put into any role at her. "I am your first phone call. Not Jennifer, not his publicist, not his agent, not his mother. I don't care if I'm on the other side of the world. I am your first and only phone call." His voice shook, fear taking over for a minute, and he stopped. He fucking had more control than that, damn it. | |
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