Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/46711.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Askewniverse_RPF
  Relationship:
      Ben_Affleck/Matt_Damon
  Additional Tags:
      Genderqueer, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-07 Words: 1838
****** Such a Fucking Girl ******
by chaosmanor
There were advantages to running track, and that afternoon was certainly
providing one of them. Maddy picked up her pace a little, stretching her stride
out, just for the delight of running back down the other side of the track,
past where the baseball team was warming up.
Ben was there, of course, Red Sox shirt and cap on, and he lifted a hand to
Maddy as she cruised past. All the other guys did too, but she didn't give a
fuck about them.
 
When Maddy had done her mile and her cool down laps, she grabbed a water bottle
and jogged towards the practice nets where Ben was hitting.
"Stretch!" Coach shouted after her, and she lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
She could do that while she waited for Ben to finish.
There were girls giggling on the bleachers behind the practice nets, stupid
girls who thought they would catch a jock's eye by just hanging around, but
Maddy ignored them as she sprawled out on the long grass in front of the
bleachers, grabbed the toes of her right foot and then began to stretch out her
calf muscles.
* * *
"She is so fucking hot," Casey said, looking over at Maddy pulling her knee up
to her chest. "I can't believe you're not fucking her."
Ben hit his brother, and not particularly gently. "Fuck off. Don't talk about
Maddy like that."
"She's so hot."
Ben glared at Kevin, who was a fat jerk and too good a backstop to be kicked
off the squad. "She's my friend," Ben said, and hitting Kevin too seemed like a
good idea. "Got it?"
"She's your fucking girlfriend," Kevin said. "A senior, and the hottest bitch
in the school—you've got to be fucking her."
They were supposed to be stretching too, like Maddy was, and the coach shouted
at them briefly, but Maddy was doing lunges and Ben doubted anyone watching her
would have noticed anything else.
"She's not my girlfriend," Ben said. "We just hang out together, okay?"
Maddy stood up, and chugged her water bottle, so Ben ignored the heckling from
his ostensible friends and walked around the nets and across to Maddy.
"Hey," he said, and she spat out a mouthful of water and slapped his arm.
"Hey."
"Wanna hang later on?" Ben asked. "Grab a pizza?"
"Cool," Maddy said. She leaned a little closer and thumped a set of knuckles
solidly into Ben's abs. "I've got a new video, and the place to myself. 'Bout
six?"
"Cool," Ben echoed, and Maddy's eyes twinkled at him and her smile was a
secret.
She jogged off, and Ben headed for the locker room, past the cheerleaders and
hangers-on. He needed to grab a shower and head for home. If he was lucky, he'd
get his history paper done before he went over to Maddy's, because he sure as
fuck wasn't going to want to do it when he eventually got back.
* * *
The girls' locker room was fogged up with steam and aerosol stuff that stunk,
so Maddy had to wipe a patch clear on the mirror before she could drag a comb
through her hair.
"Why don't you grow it out?" the girl next to her asked. "You'd be so pretty
with long hair."
The back was nothing but stubble where Maddy had clipped it the day before, and
the girl ran an experimental hand over it.
"Don't want long hair," Maddy said. "It'd get in the way of training."
The girl nodded, and Maddy stuffed her comb back in her backpack and pushed her
way past the other girls to find her locker.
They were all wearing lace underpants and flimsy bras, but the underwear Maddy
pulled on was utilitarian. Plain white sports bra and underpants, that was all
she could bear to wear.
She dragged on her worn jeans and a blue T-shirt and shoved her feet into
sneakers.
No fucking way was she wearing mini skirts or tube tops or makeup, absolutely
no fucking way. They could all fuck off.
* * *
When Ben banged on the front door of Matt's place, Matt yelled out, "C'mon in,
door's unlocked."
The door closed solidly behind Ben, and Ben checked it was now locked, then
followed the sound of the game that was on TV through to the games room.
Matt was sprawled across an easy chair, one foot hooked over the arm, and he
waved a greeting at Ben as Ben collapsed down onto the couch and tossed the
pizza box on the coffee table.
"Pizza?" Ben asked, breaking open the box.
"Absolutely," Matt said, and he leaned forward to take the piece Ben held out
for him.
The game on the screen was the third of the previous season, which the Sox had
won, one of the best games ever, and Ben knew Matt had put it on for him. Matt
was like that, making sure Ben was happy.
Someone had cut the commercials out of the recording, so Ben was only on his
second slice when the game finished.
"DVD?" Matt asked, waggling a case at Ben. There were naked men on the cover.
"Fuck, yeah," Ben said.
 
The movie was hot, the guys were all hot, and when Ben glanced across at Matt,
Matt's eyes were glued to the action. How much Matt was enjoying the movie was
obvious when Ben let himself look lower: there was a ridge of hardness inside
Matt's jeans, straining at the zip.
Ben looked back at the screen, rearranged his legs a little so his own ridge
was more comfortable, and succumbed to temptation by unzipping himself slowly.
The sound was loud, even over the moans and grunts from the screen, but Matt
didn't say anything, just pushed a hand against his own ridge through denim.
Ben pushed his boxers down and pulled out his cock, almost moaning with relief
at being able to touch himself. It was enough, just then, to hold his length
securely in his hand, squeezing the head, easing the ache, but after a couple
of minutes, when the three guys on the screen were actually fucking, Ben had to
stroke himself.
The sound of Matt's zip was loud too, and when Ben glanced across
surreptitiously, Matt had his cock in his hand, fondling it gently.
It was far hotter to watch Matt than it was to watch the screen, and Ben gave
up trying to be discreet about it and just perved at Matt.
"Hey," Matt said, and Ben lifted his eyes to Matt's face. "Want me to suck
you?"
Fuck.
"Yeah," Ben said, and Matt was on his knees in front of Ben in an instant.
Ben shoved his jeans and boxers down further, and Matt's mouth was wet and soft
around his cock. He touched the back of Matt's head gently; the hair was
velveteen under his fingers, and something about the feeling made him smile.
Then Matt deep-throated him and his fingers pressed against Ben's balls, and
Ben groaned and tried not to thrust up into Matt's mouth.
"Gonna come soon," he warned, and Matt's head lifted, and Matt licked his own
lips, smoothing saliva.
"Wanna come in my mouth?" Matt asked, and it was such an indecent-sounding
question.
"Fuck me," Ben said.
"Yeah."
Ben's jeans were tangled around his knees, and he bumped the coffee table,
slopping beer, when he scrambled off the couch and onto the rug. "Like this?"
he asked Matt, leaning across the coffee table, his ass in the air.
"That's good."
Matt's fingers touched him, touched his ass, slippery and cold with lube, which
meant Matt had planned this, had put lube somewhere close.
One finger shoved inside him and swiveled around, and the feeling was all
jagged and sudden inside Ben; then the good feelings started, and he groaned
deeply.
"Fuck, yeah," Matt murmured, sliding another finger in, pushing Ben so close to
coming, just from the casual turn of fingers.
"Just fuck me," Ben said, because he was about to come, and he needed Mattie
inside him desperately.
The coffee table creaked a little when Ben held tightly onto the edge and let
his weight rest on it while Matt clambered around behind him.
Mattie's cock was cold and hard, nudging against Ben's ass, and Ben had to will
himself to let go and not fight the feeling, then Matt was sliding in slowly, a
gradual intrusion that hurt so much and felt so fucking good. He could never
remember that feeling, in between when they did it, not until the next time
Mattie was pushing his cock so deep and hard into Ben that it made him whimper.
"Is that good?" Matt asked, his voice strained, but Ben couldn't spare the
control to answer; moaning seemed to be all his mouth could do right then.
Matt slapped Ben's ass hard, the sound ringing out over the faked groans from
the TV, then Matt leaned forward and fumbled under Ben, reaching for his cock.
"Yeah," Ben managed to gasp, and Matt's fingers were jerking roughly at his
cock while his hips ground against the back of Ben's buttocks, dragging his
cock around inside Ben.
"Come for me," Matt said, and that was all Ben wanted to hear, all he ever
wanted, was for his Matt to be touching him like that, telling him to come,
groaning and shuddering himself with his body pressed against Ben's.
It hurt to come, with Matt so deep inside him. It hurt when Mattie pulled out
slowly. It especially hurt when both of them slumped down onto the rug and Ben
bashed his knee against the coffee table leg.
It didn't hurt, though, when Maddy let him kiss her, before she stopped being
his boyfriend and went back to being his best mate.
"You came on the rug," she said, when Ben lifted his mouth from hers. "How the
fuck am I going to explain that?"
"Oh, fuck," Ben said. "You could tell your parents I did it."
Maddy laughed, and Ben stroked his fingertips across her cheek, relishing the
moment of intimacy with her.
"As if they'd believe that," she said, and she was so beautiful with the last
traces of Matt still in her eyes that Ben's throat hurt.
"Mattie…" Ben began.
"Stop being so fucking soppy," Maddy said, and she thwacked Ben hard on the
arm. "You're such a fucking girl at times."
She reached over Ben's shoulder for a another piece of pizza, rolling over and
pushing herself up onto her knees, and Ben said, "You just knelt in come."
"Oh, fuck it," Maddy said, and she sat back and sploshed her piece of pizza
over the sticky patch on the rug, covering it. "There, now my folks'll believe
you made the mess."
"Don't care," Ben said, and he didn't. His jeans and shorts were around his
knees, he had lube all over his ass, and a fucking huge bruise on his left
knee, but what did any of that matter when he had Maddy?
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