"You kill people," he says, and somewhere in the back of his mind the little voice of common sense, rational, practical, common sense, that's saying: matt? matt? you didn't say no, matt. i think you forgot something, i think you forgot to say no, better get that out there, matt - but his mouth is leaping ahead of his brain, now. "I don't think you could," he says. "I don't - think you would. Tear me apart, if you can, Fisk; keep it between us."
Matt hears his own voice saying those words and - and - and hears how Fisk lets the silence draw out; Fisk's breathing has changed. If Matt's ears weren't so sensitive, he would've have picked up on it, but lucky him.
He's leaning against a smokestack because the night is cold and the brick is warm. The heat is sinking through his thin wet shirt and through the pants, seeping into his chest and - and his thighs. He thinks he's breathing a little funny - because it's cold, and because i'm tired, and
"...tear you apart," Fisk says. Matt adjusts his stance against the brick. He's too hot and too cold and - and - hang up the phone, champ, he thinks. at this point, your honor, the defense can no longer conceal evidence. But Matt doesn't hang up the phone, because he can count the good decisions he's made in the last year on one hand and why break a bad habit now, he thinks, a little crazily.
It might be fair to say that he has clearly gone insane. No one has ever spoken to Matt like that before, with that particular considering tone, heavy with deliberate, careful meaning.
OK. "I think you could," Matt says; his fingers are tingling. "Would you, though?"
And denial has worked well for Matt until now but at this point all he can honestly say is that yes, he just said that, and - and - and he might be leaning against warm brick with his legs spread and his voice might have accidentally just dropped half an octave, but at least both his hands are above his waist and whatever's going on down there is just - it's just - physical. adrenaline.
"No," Fisk says, and that was not a sigh of disappointment he will not let it out. "No," Fisk says again, "I wouldn't." And another pause in which they're panting at each other - this is not right, this is not okay, and Matt almost knows what Fisk is going to say before he says "until you asked, at least," and. shit. Matt hates him more than an little because until this second it had been - a thing that wasn't really happening, and now, now, Fisk made it real and Fisk made Matt the coward. Matt is coward enough to know that he won't - he won't consider it, he won't think of what it might feel like if it was Fisk's solid bulk in front of him, the heat of another man between his legs instead of the -
- the chimney. jesus, this is public, this is the roof of a public building. Matt feels like he's jerking out of sleep; he knows he made some humiliating noise before he hangs up the phone, but he. He can't. He doesn't throw the phone away, is the thing.
(...this definitely is a thing that happened before fisk sees matt's soulmark. uh. for maximum distress.)
i feel like i need to say NOBODY DIES IN THIS, it's just. uh. things are very tense. nobody knows enough to make good decisions but everyone has just enough info to keep making critical errors. ahaha?
Re: Matt/Fisk Soulmate AU (bitty little author anon #1 update)
Matt hears his own voice saying those words and - and - and hears how Fisk lets the silence draw out; Fisk's breathing has changed. If Matt's ears weren't so sensitive, he would've have picked up on it, but lucky him.
He's leaning against a smokestack because the night is cold and the brick is warm. The heat is sinking through his thin wet shirt and through the pants, seeping into his chest and - and his thighs. He thinks he's breathing a little funny - because it's cold, and because i'm tired, and
"...tear you apart," Fisk says. Matt adjusts his stance against the brick. He's too hot and too cold and - and - hang up the phone, champ, he thinks. at this point, your honor, the defense can no longer conceal evidence. But Matt doesn't hang up the phone, because he can count the good decisions he's made in the last year on one hand and why break a bad habit now, he thinks, a little crazily.
It might be fair to say that he has clearly gone insane. No one has ever spoken to Matt like that before, with that particular considering tone, heavy with deliberate, careful meaning.
OK. "I think you could," Matt says; his fingers are tingling. "Would you, though?"
And denial has worked well for Matt until now but at this point all he can honestly say is that yes, he just said that, and - and - and he might be leaning against warm brick with his legs spread and his voice might have accidentally just dropped half an octave, but at least both his hands are above his waist and whatever's going on down there is just - it's just - physical. adrenaline.
"No," Fisk says, and that was not a sigh of disappointment he will not let it out. "No," Fisk says again, "I wouldn't." And another pause in which they're panting at each other - this is not right, this is not okay, and Matt almost knows what Fisk is going to say before he says "until you asked, at least," and. shit. Matt hates him more than an little because until this second it had been - a thing that wasn't really happening, and now, now, Fisk made it real and Fisk made Matt the coward. Matt is coward enough to know that he won't - he won't consider it, he won't think of what it might feel like if it was Fisk's solid bulk in front of him, the heat of another man between his legs instead of the -
- the chimney. jesus, this is public, this is the roof of a public building. Matt feels like he's jerking out of sleep; he knows he made some humiliating noise before he hangs up the phone, but he. He can't. He doesn't throw the phone away, is the thing.
(...this definitely is a thing that happened before fisk sees matt's soulmark. uh. for maximum distress.)
i feel like i need to say NOBODY DIES IN THIS, it's just. uh. things are very tense. nobody knows enough to make good decisions but everyone has just enough info to keep making critical errors. ahaha?