The Pleasure Principle (Fourteen-a/?)
Jun. 27th, 2010 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: The Pleasure Principle (Fourteen-a/?)
Author:
millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Feedback: Makes me happier than Dominic in a shop full of sparkly belts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no offense intended, this never happened, and no money is being made. 'Tis fiction, after all. Silver Star Studios and its inhabitants, however, are all mine
Breaking this chapter into two parts. :)
Big thanks to the TPP team:
dolce_piccante,
frolicandfall and
myz_bee for their beta skills, feedback and general badass-ness. ;-)
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
I've been replaying Dominic's words in my mind.
"Let's just plan to go Friday night, yeah? And maybe we can grab something to eat while we're at it?"
He didn't use the word "date", and neither did I, but still... I find myself positively giddy at the prospect of getting to go out on the town with him. I'm nervous as anything, actually, and I don't just feel like I have butterflies in my belly, I feel like I'm choking on them. I've taken way too much time getting ready; half my wardrobe is strewn across my bed because I kept changing my mind as to what I was going to wear.
In the end, though, I've settled on snug white trousers and a white button-down shirt, with black braces. It's simple, yet still a little dressy. I think? Hmm, maybe I should look for my red trousers?
"I know that look," Tom teases from the doorway. "Matt, you look fine, stop changing clothes, mate!"
I bite my lip in frustration as I turn in front of my full-length mirror.
"I thought you said this was just a 'friendly shopping thing'?" Tom says mischeviously. "Why so nervous?"
"I dunno," I whisper with a shrug of my shoulders, my cheeks heating up.
"Ooh, you want him, Matthew."
"Stop it, Tom." I try not to giggle as he continues.
"Oh, Dominic. Tell me about it, stud." His Olivia Newton-John impersonation is pretty spot-on, and I can't stop the grin that takes shape on my face as a result.
"Thomas. I'm gonna take your Grease DVD away if you don't stop it."
He pouts. "Come on, I was just about to launch into "You're The One That I Want!" It was gonna be awesome!"
I shake my head with a giggle, sitting down on the bed. I close my eyes and attempt to catch my breath. Suddenly the butterflies feel like they've doubled in size and my nervousness is increasing tenfold. Tom knows me well enough to know something is up, so I'm not at all surprised when he comes and kneels in front of me.
"Hey. Relax." he whispers. "You're an amazing man, and he's going to think so too. I guarantee it."
I don't look at him right away, instead keeping my eyes trained on my shoes. He stands to leave me to finish getting ready and as he reaches the door I finally speak.
"Thanks, Tom."
He turns and smiles at me as he closes the door.
About thirty minutes later I find myself standing in front of Dominic's flat. The only problem is that I've been standing out here for fifteen of those minutes walking back and forth. What the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden? Am I worried he won't like me once he really gets to know me? Am I worried that he still can't be trusted? Honestly, it might be a little of both.
The tiny voice in my head tires of my waffling and screams at me just then:
"GROW A PAIR OF TESTICLES AND KNOCK ON THE FUCKING DOOR."
So I do.
He opens his door almost immediately, peering at me shyly. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," I reply with a smile. I find myself flushing a little under his scrutiny, but judging by the way his eyes are sweeping up and down my body I think he approves of my selection. I'm nothing compared to him tonight, though. He's wearing black jeans (and as he turns to lock his door I am able to see that they're gorgeously snug in the arse) with a thin white t-shirt, one that's crisp against his tanned skin. The black leather jacket he's shrugged into completes the look in a truly delicious way.
"You look amazing," I blurt out.
Smoooooooth, Matthew.
The smile on his face is wide and bright as he looks at me, despite the flush creeping up his cheeks. "You should talk," he replies, one finger tracing the length of one of my braces. "These are... nice." He seems to remember himself just then and removes his hand as though it were on fire.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to touch-"
"No, it's fine!" I reply quickly. I want to make it crystal clear that I have no problem with him touching me any-damn where he wants, any-damn time he wants.
What? Don't look at me like that. You would do the same thing if you were me.
"So, where to?" he asks as we walk out of his building into the warm night air. The street is crowded; filled with couples out on dates, it seems. I've never seen so many people holding hands and snogging, to be honest. It's almost as though someone poured a love potion into the local water supply.
We fall into step behind a young couple and their little boy who are making their way down the street as well. Every couple steps it seems like they glance at each other and kiss each other quickly on the lips.
"Wanna try Stoneballoons?" I suggest. I know they have some vintage things as well as traditional costumes, so there should be alot there to choose from.
"Sounds good to me."
We continue making small talk as we proceed down the street. I find out in a random comment about the weather that Dominic apparently loves a good rainstorm, and that he wishes he could have been at Glastonbury this weekend but didn't want to go by himself.
He speaks suddenly. "Your turn. Tell me something about yourself."
I pause, swallowing. "Umm...like what?" To be honest, I was quite enjoying listening to him talk.
"Anything! Don't overthink it, just go for it."
I wrack my brain trying to think of something intelligent to say. Something witty, something sexy, something that will make him putty in my hands. So I have no idea fucking idea why I say the following:
"I love bananas."
I swear I want the Earth to open up and swallow me.
He gives me a sideways glance, chuckling. "Okay, good start."
"I can't believe I said that," I mutter, shaking my head. "As you can see, I'm a truly fascinating individual."
He nods solemnly. "Indeed you are, sir." I poke him playfully in the side, Dominic jumping when I do.
"What other obscure, pointless facts can I tell you? I hate spiders, like to birdwatch and I still have the stuffed bear my Gran gave me when I was a little boy."
The last one makes him turn to me and smile. "Mine was a stuffed rabbit named Oscar. I wish I still had him."
The little boy walking with his mum in front of us spills the bottle of water he'd been carrying. I don't notice it, though and I start to slip as I step in it, but Dominic reaches out and grabs my hand to steady me.
"Wait, look out."
"Thanks," I mutter, staring at our joined hands, my heart pounding. He moves to let me go but in that instant the nerves disappear and a new found confidence takes their place. I hold firm to his hand, Dominic smiling shyly when I do. I force myself to meet his eyes, they're wide and clear and gorgeous.
"Is that okay?"
He nods, biting his lip to stifle a smile as we enter the shop. Stoneballoons is one of my favorite shops; it's warm and inviting, and the staff are always pleasant to deal with.
"Right," Dominic says, "so, anything I choose, that's what you have to wear?"
"That was the deal," I smile. "Be gentle, yeah?"
He merely grins to himself in response.
We stop in front of a display which showcases a mannequin dressed as a jester, which I actually really like, it's colorful and funny, and the tights that come with it are a gorgeous shade of red. Dominic, however, must possess a very discriminating taste, because he seems to dismiss instantly with a flick of his hand.
"No."
The look on his face is quite intense as he carefully weighs his options. Next we come to a white 70's style Disco suit, complete with bell-bottoms. He glances at my waist then back at the mannequin, then back to me, before again dismissing it with a sniff.
"All these are too predictable. Oh!" Dominic pulls me to one of the racks and begins rifling through a collection of button-down shirts, each one leopard print, each one a different color of the rainbow. His face lights up like a child's.
"Ooh, purple! I don't have a purple one," he mutters to himself. I watch him, amused at the way he scrutinizes each shirt. He catches me, though, and he shakes his head. "We're here for your costume, not to add to my leopard print obsession! Sorry."
"Maybe Santa will be extra good to you this year and bring you a leopard print thong?"
He opens his mouth for a comeback but instead starts to giggle uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?"
He wipes his eyes. "S'nothing. Just... for a second there I was picturing you dressed as Santa."
"I could pull off Santa, thank you very much," I reply, indignant. "I think long white beards and huge pot bellies are about to make a comeback. I could make that shit look good."
We both laugh loudly at the thought of me in a Santa costume, but my laughter dies suddenly when we round the corner and bump squarely into a young man.
"Oh, excuse me," I apologize. I look up and am quite stunned to see that it's David. "Oh! Hey, you!" I say much too loudly in an attempt to mask my nervousness.
"Hi," Dominic says softly. He seems nervous himself as he makes an attempt to connect with David.
David swallows, nods and starts to speak to us but just then his eyes drift down to the sight of our hands, still intertwined together. The blood leaves his face and when he looks into my eyes the sadness I see there makes me feel irrationally awful. He glances at Dominic and nods, with a smile, before walking away.
Dominic frowns, releasing my hand. "What was that? Was it me?"
I shake my head. "No, it wasn't you, don't worry. It's me."
"Ah." He turns, watching as David leaves the shop, before looking back at me. The spell that had surrounded us seems to have broken somewhat, and although we continue to look around the shop, after thirty minutes or so it becomes clear that Dominic isn't seeing anything he likes. He turns to me.
"Maybe we should look online? There have to be loads of websites for this sort of thing, yeah?"
"That's true," I admit.
"How about we get something to eat then head back to my place and see what we can find. Does that sound okay to you?" he asks hopefully. "I mean, we don't have to, or anything, I mean-"
Impulsively, I grab his hand again and smile. "It sounds great to me."
Fuck, he's adorable when he blushes.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Feedback: Makes me happier than Dominic in a shop full of sparkly belts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no offense intended, this never happened, and no money is being made. 'Tis fiction, after all. Silver Star Studios and its inhabitants, however, are all mine
Breaking this chapter into two parts. :)
Big thanks to the TPP team:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
I've been replaying Dominic's words in my mind.
"Let's just plan to go Friday night, yeah? And maybe we can grab something to eat while we're at it?"
He didn't use the word "date", and neither did I, but still... I find myself positively giddy at the prospect of getting to go out on the town with him. I'm nervous as anything, actually, and I don't just feel like I have butterflies in my belly, I feel like I'm choking on them. I've taken way too much time getting ready; half my wardrobe is strewn across my bed because I kept changing my mind as to what I was going to wear.
In the end, though, I've settled on snug white trousers and a white button-down shirt, with black braces. It's simple, yet still a little dressy. I think? Hmm, maybe I should look for my red trousers?
"I know that look," Tom teases from the doorway. "Matt, you look fine, stop changing clothes, mate!"
I bite my lip in frustration as I turn in front of my full-length mirror.
"I thought you said this was just a 'friendly shopping thing'?" Tom says mischeviously. "Why so nervous?"
"I dunno," I whisper with a shrug of my shoulders, my cheeks heating up.
"Ooh, you want him, Matthew."
"Stop it, Tom." I try not to giggle as he continues.
"Oh, Dominic. Tell me about it, stud." His Olivia Newton-John impersonation is pretty spot-on, and I can't stop the grin that takes shape on my face as a result.
"Thomas. I'm gonna take your Grease DVD away if you don't stop it."
He pouts. "Come on, I was just about to launch into "You're The One That I Want!" It was gonna be awesome!"
I shake my head with a giggle, sitting down on the bed. I close my eyes and attempt to catch my breath. Suddenly the butterflies feel like they've doubled in size and my nervousness is increasing tenfold. Tom knows me well enough to know something is up, so I'm not at all surprised when he comes and kneels in front of me.
"Hey. Relax." he whispers. "You're an amazing man, and he's going to think so too. I guarantee it."
I don't look at him right away, instead keeping my eyes trained on my shoes. He stands to leave me to finish getting ready and as he reaches the door I finally speak.
"Thanks, Tom."
He turns and smiles at me as he closes the door.
About thirty minutes later I find myself standing in front of Dominic's flat. The only problem is that I've been standing out here for fifteen of those minutes walking back and forth. What the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden? Am I worried he won't like me once he really gets to know me? Am I worried that he still can't be trusted? Honestly, it might be a little of both.
The tiny voice in my head tires of my waffling and screams at me just then:
"GROW A PAIR OF TESTICLES AND KNOCK ON THE FUCKING DOOR."
So I do.
He opens his door almost immediately, peering at me shyly. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," I reply with a smile. I find myself flushing a little under his scrutiny, but judging by the way his eyes are sweeping up and down my body I think he approves of my selection. I'm nothing compared to him tonight, though. He's wearing black jeans (and as he turns to lock his door I am able to see that they're gorgeously snug in the arse) with a thin white t-shirt, one that's crisp against his tanned skin. The black leather jacket he's shrugged into completes the look in a truly delicious way.
"You look amazing," I blurt out.
Smoooooooth, Matthew.
The smile on his face is wide and bright as he looks at me, despite the flush creeping up his cheeks. "You should talk," he replies, one finger tracing the length of one of my braces. "These are... nice." He seems to remember himself just then and removes his hand as though it were on fire.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to touch-"
"No, it's fine!" I reply quickly. I want to make it crystal clear that I have no problem with him touching me any-damn where he wants, any-damn time he wants.
What? Don't look at me like that. You would do the same thing if you were me.
"So, where to?" he asks as we walk out of his building into the warm night air. The street is crowded; filled with couples out on dates, it seems. I've never seen so many people holding hands and snogging, to be honest. It's almost as though someone poured a love potion into the local water supply.
We fall into step behind a young couple and their little boy who are making their way down the street as well. Every couple steps it seems like they glance at each other and kiss each other quickly on the lips.
"Wanna try Stoneballoons?" I suggest. I know they have some vintage things as well as traditional costumes, so there should be alot there to choose from.
"Sounds good to me."
We continue making small talk as we proceed down the street. I find out in a random comment about the weather that Dominic apparently loves a good rainstorm, and that he wishes he could have been at Glastonbury this weekend but didn't want to go by himself.
He speaks suddenly. "Your turn. Tell me something about yourself."
I pause, swallowing. "Umm...like what?" To be honest, I was quite enjoying listening to him talk.
"Anything! Don't overthink it, just go for it."
I wrack my brain trying to think of something intelligent to say. Something witty, something sexy, something that will make him putty in my hands. So I have no idea fucking idea why I say the following:
"I love bananas."
I swear I want the Earth to open up and swallow me.
He gives me a sideways glance, chuckling. "Okay, good start."
"I can't believe I said that," I mutter, shaking my head. "As you can see, I'm a truly fascinating individual."
He nods solemnly. "Indeed you are, sir." I poke him playfully in the side, Dominic jumping when I do.
"What other obscure, pointless facts can I tell you? I hate spiders, like to birdwatch and I still have the stuffed bear my Gran gave me when I was a little boy."
The last one makes him turn to me and smile. "Mine was a stuffed rabbit named Oscar. I wish I still had him."
The little boy walking with his mum in front of us spills the bottle of water he'd been carrying. I don't notice it, though and I start to slip as I step in it, but Dominic reaches out and grabs my hand to steady me.
"Wait, look out."
"Thanks," I mutter, staring at our joined hands, my heart pounding. He moves to let me go but in that instant the nerves disappear and a new found confidence takes their place. I hold firm to his hand, Dominic smiling shyly when I do. I force myself to meet his eyes, they're wide and clear and gorgeous.
"Is that okay?"
He nods, biting his lip to stifle a smile as we enter the shop. Stoneballoons is one of my favorite shops; it's warm and inviting, and the staff are always pleasant to deal with.
"Right," Dominic says, "so, anything I choose, that's what you have to wear?"
"That was the deal," I smile. "Be gentle, yeah?"
He merely grins to himself in response.
We stop in front of a display which showcases a mannequin dressed as a jester, which I actually really like, it's colorful and funny, and the tights that come with it are a gorgeous shade of red. Dominic, however, must possess a very discriminating taste, because he seems to dismiss instantly with a flick of his hand.
"No."
The look on his face is quite intense as he carefully weighs his options. Next we come to a white 70's style Disco suit, complete with bell-bottoms. He glances at my waist then back at the mannequin, then back to me, before again dismissing it with a sniff.
"All these are too predictable. Oh!" Dominic pulls me to one of the racks and begins rifling through a collection of button-down shirts, each one leopard print, each one a different color of the rainbow. His face lights up like a child's.
"Ooh, purple! I don't have a purple one," he mutters to himself. I watch him, amused at the way he scrutinizes each shirt. He catches me, though, and he shakes his head. "We're here for your costume, not to add to my leopard print obsession! Sorry."
"Maybe Santa will be extra good to you this year and bring you a leopard print thong?"
He opens his mouth for a comeback but instead starts to giggle uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?"
He wipes his eyes. "S'nothing. Just... for a second there I was picturing you dressed as Santa."
"I could pull off Santa, thank you very much," I reply, indignant. "I think long white beards and huge pot bellies are about to make a comeback. I could make that shit look good."
We both laugh loudly at the thought of me in a Santa costume, but my laughter dies suddenly when we round the corner and bump squarely into a young man.
"Oh, excuse me," I apologize. I look up and am quite stunned to see that it's David. "Oh! Hey, you!" I say much too loudly in an attempt to mask my nervousness.
"Hi," Dominic says softly. He seems nervous himself as he makes an attempt to connect with David.
David swallows, nods and starts to speak to us but just then his eyes drift down to the sight of our hands, still intertwined together. The blood leaves his face and when he looks into my eyes the sadness I see there makes me feel irrationally awful. He glances at Dominic and nods, with a smile, before walking away.
Dominic frowns, releasing my hand. "What was that? Was it me?"
I shake my head. "No, it wasn't you, don't worry. It's me."
"Ah." He turns, watching as David leaves the shop, before looking back at me. The spell that had surrounded us seems to have broken somewhat, and although we continue to look around the shop, after thirty minutes or so it becomes clear that Dominic isn't seeing anything he likes. He turns to me.
"Maybe we should look online? There have to be loads of websites for this sort of thing, yeah?"
"That's true," I admit.
"How about we get something to eat then head back to my place and see what we can find. Does that sound okay to you?" he asks hopefully. "I mean, we don't have to, or anything, I mean-"
Impulsively, I grab his hand again and smile. "It sounds great to me."
Fuck, he's adorable when he blushes.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 09:49 pm (UTC)xxx