cupidsbow (cupidsbow) wrote,
cupidsbow
cupidsbow

Slash fic: minimum safe distance

Title: minimum safe distance
Author: cupidsbow
Fandom: Afflection
Pairing: Ben Affleck/Matt Damon
Rating: R
Length: 400 words
For: shoshannagold, my dear fellow Afflection-shipper.
Summary: Ben’s paradigms get re-aligned.


*********************

minimum safe distance


i.

Ben's motto, post-Jen,
is that love is crueller than
lust; not worth the pain.

he's not drunk when he
tells Matt, even though heartbreak
tastes wrong without booze.

"no more love," Ben says,
"just fucking," and telling Matt
makes it sound easy

but Matt takes the news
as a personal affront...
as though he thinks Ben's

heart should be like a
convenience store: open
all hours, and always

ready for rough trade.
and that's when sober sorrow
becomes a mixed curse:

Ben's perceptions aren't
fogged, and the expression on
Matt's face is naked.

it's the look of a
man who doesn't expect to
be understood or

wanted, but who cares
enough to keep offering
safe consolation.


ii.

Ben is practiced at
seduction, and he knows just
how close he can get

without risking fail-
safe limits, total core breach,
nuclear meltdown.

calculating the
minimum safe distance for
casual lovers

is as easy as
breathing, but when Ben sees that
look on Matt's face, it's

as though he and air
have fallen out. and maybe
Einstein had a

point when he said that
distances were relative;
and maybe Ben's still

open for rough trade
after all, because it feels
just as dangerous

to think of saying
"no" to Matt, as it feels with
his tongue in Matt's mouth.


iii.

Matt's body is a
rollercoaster: pushing and
pulling Ben in a

way that's beyond will.
Matt's blunt nail on the slit of
his cock; the too-hard

surreal pain of teeth
against neck; vanishing point
as his thumb breaks Matt

open; gravity's
inconstant pressure on their
bodies in motion;

the tilting, molten
shock of orgasm... the slow,
fraught return of thought.


iv.

and Matt laying there—
covered in sweat and spunk and
the lazy sprawl of

pleasure-spent limbs—makes
minimum safe distance seem
nothing but a myth,

because all Ben wants
is to laminate Matt's skin
with indelible

"No Trespassing" signs
of permanent ownership.
and even before

his raw cock slides free
of Matt's body, Ben knows that
he needs another

new motto, because
lust and love have transformed; Ben
isn't sure how it

happened, except that
it's all Matt's fault. yes, Matt's fault
that Ben isn't sad;

Matt's fault that Ben's heart
pinches at the cold press of
Matt's toes against his;

definitely Matt's
fault that fucking and loving,
danger and safety,

have entwined so Ben
can't see the seam... unless it's
hidden in Matt's smile.

and Matt's fault that Ben's
new notion of minimum
safe distance is the

time it takes to draw
breath between a kiss and Matt
saying, "I love you."

* * *
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