million_star | The Pleasure Principle (Fifteen/?)

Title: The Pleasure Principle (Fifteen/?)
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. Big thanks to the TPP team:

dolce_piccante,

frolicandfall and

myz_bee for their beta skills, feedback and general badass-ness. ;-)

Author's Note: Kinda longish; 3483 words. This marks the beginning of the Silver Star Costume Party. Be sure to notice the links at the end of the page.

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen-a | Fourteen-b

A couple days has passed since Dominic and I went out looking for my costume and I discovered he was my biggest fan, so I was extremely excited to see his number on my mobile as I get into bed.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Matthew," he replies. "Hope it's okay to call you this late."

"You can call me anytime you like," I reply softly.

What? Yeah, I know, I'm flirting. I'm entitled, dammit!

He giggles, and it amazes me that I can feel him flushing through the phone at my words, but I swear I can.

"What's up?" I ask, my voice more friendly than flirty now.

"I don't know if I can go tonight," he says quickly.

I sit up instantly, a frown on my face. "What? Why? Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay?"

"No, I'm fine," he assures me quickly, "much better. Believe me, everything is, ah, working again."

Ooh, is it now?

I shake my head to chase that particular thought from my mind. "Well, what's happened? I mean, I let you pick my costume and everything."

"The thought of being at a party where only one person would speak to me is terrifying," he says quietly. "I can't face that."

"Dominic, please-"

"You'd have a better time if you went alone."

"But-"

It's infuriating, really, the way that this gorgeous man won't stop talking. "Matthew, someone at Silver Star dislikes me enough to dose me with Viagra. I still don't know what to do about that; if there's anything I can do about it. I need time to think, and I'll be fine by myself."

"Dominic," I interrupt, forcefully, "Stop. Listen to me, please?"

The line goes silent and I'm afraid I've made him angry, but after a moment he speaks.

"Okay."

"I just," I get up and pace my bedroom naked, trying to think of something to say. I want to be supportive, I want to put him at ease.

I want...

"How can I make you see that if you aren't there then I don't want to be there either?" I blurt out, my heart pounding once I've voiced that thought aloud.

Shit, shit, fucking shit.

Verbal diarrhea, that's what I've got. Yep.

I can hear Dominic breathing on the other end of the line; I wish he would say something, especially as I'm pretty certain I've just made an arse of myself.

"Really?" he says finally, so softly I can barely make it out.

"Yes," I reply, walking over to my window to stare at the streetlights on the corner. I can't keep myself from blushing for some reason. "So, please, please come with me tonight. I promise, I'll make sure you have a good time."

For a good thirty seconds or so he says nothing and I figure at this point that he's just not up for it, until he finally speaks.

"Okay. But I don't dance, so don't bother asking me to."

I burst out laughing, leaning against the window. "Dancing, me? No way! At least we can agree on that much. Wait a minute, I don't even know what you're going to be dressed as! Spoil me, yeah?"

"You'll see when you pick me up," he says with a laugh before suddenly going quiet. "I mean, do you mind picking me up so, well, can I walk in with you? I can meet you there if you like, I didn't mean... shit," he sighs.

"Hey, it's fine," I reassure him. "I'd love to take you tonight."

Thankfully, Dominic bursts out laughing at me as soon as that statement leaves my mouth. Talk about a Freudian Slip. I'm amazed at just how much of an arse I am making of myself whenever I find myself talking to Dominic. This does not bode well for tonight.

"Ah. I mean take you to Mort's, not take you like, umm, that. Okay, that came out wrong. "

"Understood. What about you, is your costume all set?"

I glance at the garment in question, still hanging on my closet door. It's been mocking me the past few days, to be honest, but a deal is a deal. I would be a filthy liar if I said that I wasn't anxious to see Dominic's reaction to how I look in it. Who am I kidding? I want him to be pleased when he sees me; I hope that he is.

"Nearly," I reply mysteriously, "I'm about to go out in search of one last critical item and then-"

"Woooo!"

I hear the catcall from a distance and look out the window and when I do I immediately sink to the floor, my face red and burning.

I gasp in horror. "Oh, shit!" My embarassment doubles when I hear this a second later:

"Come back, sexy! It's my birthday!"

"Matthew? Hello? You there?"

I'm here. Oh yes. I'm here, Dominic. It's cool, I was just standing in front of my bedroom window, naked as the day I was born. My bedroom window that, I should add, can be seen clearly from the street below. I should also add that just now there was a group of old ladies walking by, and it seems I gave them an eye full. I only saw them for a moment, but I can remember that one of them shook her cane at me.

And apparently one of them is having a birthday today. How lovely. Were they out getting smashed together, is that why they're out this late? I wonder if they had birthday cake? Huh, for that matter, cake sounds damn good right now. Do we have any cake? I'm hungry...

"Matthew!"

"Ah! I'm here, I'm here! Sorry. Um, yeah, the costume is coming along just fine. I'll be at your place at seven, ok?"

"Make it eight," Dominic shoots back, "gotta be fashionably late and all."

I know what you're thinking, and no, I didn't touch myself once after hanging up the phone. It can be done, people.

******

I duck into the wardrobe department at Silver Star a couple hours later and much to my delight the very person I was hoping to find is here. I dial up the charm to eleven as I walk up to her.

"Katherine! How are you today, beautiful?" I wink.

She glares at me good-naturedly. "Spare me the bullshit, Matthew. You're probably the tenth person who's been in here this morning looking for something to wear to the bosses' tonight. I'm in the middle of ordering thongs here, so make it quick. What can I do for you?"

"Black fishnet stockings."

She chokes on the sip of coffee she's just taken and stares at me, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"Yeah? No shit?"

"Zero shit. Can you hook a guy up or what?" I lean in and whisper seductively, "I'll make it worth your while."

She actually snorts. "I'd like to see you try!"

The thing about Kate is that while she comes across as a tough chick, all of us are aware of her one weakness. I present her with the three Galaxy caramel bars I'd been hiding behind my back, putting them on the table and looking at her pointedly.

"Sweets for my sweet?" I sing sweetly.

She puts down her clipboard and stares at me. "That's not gonna cut it this time."

"What are your terms?" I reply, eyes narrowing.

"Tell me what you're dressing up as. I've had lots of guys in here rifling through the costumes but not one of them seem to be going in women's clothes."

"That's classified information, I'm afraid, Moneypenny," I reply mysteriously.

We continue our staredown for a few more moments until finally I pound the table with my fist and relent, walking over to her and whispering into her ear. I'm a little deflated when she bursts out laughing at the revelation of what I will be wearing tonight, but luckily for me she wipes the tears from her eyes and takes a deep breath and says:

"Follow me."

Twenty minutes later, fishnets in hand, I practically skip down the hallway intent on getting home to start preparations for tonight when I hear my name being spoken as I pass one of the offices. I stop outside the door and listen closer.

"Let me put Bellamy with him, Mort. The couple times he and Dominic have worked together were the most stress free times I've had in dealing with our resident superstar," Hans comments. "And I think we both agree that it's time, that Matthew needs more exposure."

Me, with Dominic, finally? I'm intrigued. Do go on, Hans.

"No. Not Matthew," Mort replies instantly.

"But they've got undeniable chemistry together, you have to be aware of that-"

"Use someone else."

Hans' frustration level rises. "Using someone else will mean fucking with the filming schedule, which in the end costs you money and me time!"

"What about Kirk," Hans suggests. "I thought you said he was coming along nicely."

"Yes, he is, but, come on, Howard would eat a newbie like him alive."

"Figure it out, Hans. This is what I pay you for."

I have to strain to make out Hans' next words, he's whispering so lowly. "People are talking, you know."

"What?"

"About what happened to him, the Viagra thing. People are wondering why there's been no investigation."

"There's no need for one. Come on, I think we all realize he did that to himself looking for attention," Mort laughs. "And look, he got what he was hoping for. Again."

"But-"

I hear the scraping of a chair against the floor and the rustling of papers. "I'll see you tonight, Hans."

I duck into the nearest empty room and wait for Mort to pass. As soon as I hear his footsteps disappear I sit down in a chair, a million thoughts running through my mind. I remember what Dominic said to me that night at the mansion when he asked me if I'd ever wondered why he and I had never been paired together in a leading role before. I admit that I hadn't considered it that much, but after hearing Mort's words just now I am feeling incredibly confused, and a little hurt, to be honest.

Mostly, though, I'm angry.

Dominic dosing himself? Is that really what he thinks? And Tom with Dominic? Nah, I don't think that would work, really. Or maybe I just don't want to see Tom with him that way. I do know one thing: tonight I am gonna ask Mort just what the fuck is going on around here. But there's one other thing I need to do before I forget. I remove my mobile from my jacket and dial a familiar number.

"Carson, I need a favor. Fuck's sake, stop kissing Tom for thirty seconds and listen to me!"

******

I stare at myself in the steamy bathroom mirror and take a deep breath. I've spiked my hair and lined my eyes. I can't put it off any longer.

While I stuff myself into my costume It becomes obvious to me that underwear of any kind is not going to be an option tonight. I watch as the satin slides up my legs and envelops my thighs tightly, the black contrasting against my skin in a pronounced way. The white ruffles are itchy as fuck, though, and I squirm as they brush against the top of my thighs. The straps are snug across my shoulders, although I do slide one down my shoulder in a little test; I'm curious to learn if getting out of this thing is gonna be as much of a pain as getting into it is.

The costume is tighter than I thought it would be, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if Dominic had planned it that way.

I sit on the edge of the tub and slide each stocking up my legs one at a time, taking a moment to run my hands over them appreciatively; they feel remarkably good. As soon as the white garter is in place I tie the white satin ribbon around my neck and reach for the lace bonnet, pinning it into my hair. Lastly come the white lace gloves. Everything is in it's place, and I glance at myself in the full length mirror, shaking the feather duster at myself playfully.

Et voila, the illusion is complete.

"Eez zhere zomething I can do fer you, Dominic?" After sliding into my role I wince; my French accent just isn't very good. I step into the pair of black high heels in front of me and grab my keys and mobile and head for Dominic's. I trip over my feet clumsily as I step into the hallway. Luckily for me Tom is already gone so he didn't see me; no doubt he's getting ready at Carson's, if they can keep their hands off each other long enough, that is.

I get plenty of funny looks as I make my way up to his flat, some of them good-natured, some of them a little judgemental, but I decided long ago other people's hang-ups are their problem, not mine. I trip again as I knock on his door, Dominic opening it promptly. He gives me a smile and my breath gets caught in my throat when I see him.

He's an angel.

No, I mean, really... he's going as an angel tonight.

I can't stop looking at him. The white shorts he's wearing look like something a tennis player might wear, and believe me, they're so tight that they're leaving nothing to the imagination; they hug his the muscles on his thighs perfectly. My eyes sweep up his body, now focusing on his tight white v-neck t-shirt, or rather, on the way his neck and arms stand out against it. It's unavoidable; as tanned as he is, he looks absolutely divine in white. The tiny makeshift silver halo and set of wings that complete his costume are anything but fancy, actually they look as though the were made with cheap Christmas tinsel. His silver Converse complete his angelic look.

His outfit is decidedly low-tech... and it's fucking perfect.

"Oh," I whisper, swallowing, "look at you."

His eyes find my own and he blushes. "No, look at you."

Then he bursts out laughing.

My stomach lurches, for that's not the reaction I was hoping to get from him. Is he... is he making fun of me? My face heats and I hang my head slightly so he won't be able to see my eyes, but before I realize what's happening his warm fingertips are on my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"I wasn't mocking you, Matthew," he smiles softly. "It's fantastic. I love it." As if to prove his point he reaches out to run one hand through my hair, carefully avoiding the bonnet resting atop my head. Next his hand reaches out to caress my bare shoulder slightly and I don't even try to hide the shudder that flows through my body at his touch.

"I'm gonna look ridiculous compared to the others," I mumble, my nervousness increasing. Of course, at that moment I stumble again, silently cursing these fucking heels I'm wearing.

"What others? You're the only one that I'll be looking at." The way he says that makes me want to do cartwheels down the hallway, although I would break both ankles if I tried to do that in these heels. He locks his door, turning to me and offering me his arm with yet another shy smile. "Let's do this, yeah?"

I smile and loop my arm through his own as he helps me down the corridor. This contact, our forearms touching completely, is the most physical contact we've shared in our private lives, and as we make it outside and reach my car I find myself wishing that I hadn't parked as close to the building as I did. Once we're in the car I pause and reach down to remove my high heels.

"I can't drive in these things."

"Lightweight," he teases. I merely roll my eyes at him playfully while tossing the shoes in the backseat.

"Someone's awfully cheeky tonight," I laugh, one eyebrow raised, "despite the fact that just last night that particular someone tried to bail on me."

You have to drive the car, Matthew. Stop looking at his legs, dammit!

Dominic folds his hands in his lap and looks out the window as we make our way out of town. "Yeah, well, make no mistake, I'm shitting myself right now, but a promise is a promise. I'd much rather you and I just kept on driving, really," he says quietly.

Oh.

"Well, we don't have to stay for the whole thing, you know," I say quickly, stealing a quick glance at him.

Even though he's looking out the window I can see him stifling a grin.

When he slowly, deliberately crosses his long legs I nearly hit an oncoming bus.

It's not a long trip to Mort's so in about twenty minutes we're there and I can feel Dominic tensing as I park the car. He stares out his window still, cracking his knuckles loudly.

"Hey," I say softly, "it'll be fine, yeah?"

He turns to me and nods silently, forcing a smile onto his face. He then removes his seat belt and leans in close.

"Matthew?" he whispers.

I inch closer to him, my heart hammering away in my chest. "Hmm?"

"I don't know how to say this," he begins.

"Oh?" I find his eyes, the grey playing gorgeously against the silver that frames his face and body.

"It's just that..."

"Say it." I lick my lips in anticipation as he moves even closer to me, his face mere inches from my own.

"Your bonnet is crooked," Dominic whispers with a wink.

Shit.

Once we get out of the car Dominic insists on giving me his arm again so I can stumble with at least a modicum of dignity. There must be at least a hundred people here tonight, judging from the crowd milling out into the grounds. The annual Silver Star costume party hosts not only the actors, but the studio employees and business associates as well. When we reach the door Lou spots me and shrieks with joy.

"Oh my GOD! Matthew! I loooove it!" He comes bounding across the foyer and Dominic and I both are shocked into silence at his appearance, for it seems I am not the only one here wearing a woman's costume, for Lou is dressed as a cheerleader; a blonde, busty cheerleader in a skirt that is really way too short for him. Killer is at his feet, decked out in a tiny tuxedo, and Dominic visibly stiffens at the sight of him until the pup merely barks playfully and Dominic leans down to scratch his head with a smile.

"And this must be Dominic? Ooh, look at you," Lou purrs, Dominic straightening up instantly. Lou walks around him as if to size him up, Dominic's grey eyes meeting my own as they widen in horror. I chuckle, because it's true that Lou can be a little, well, overwhelming at times, so the uneasy look on Dominic's face is well justified. I begin to introduce the two of them but just then like a whirlwind Carson materializes in a cloud of plaid, winking at me. Lou leaves us to answer the door again and we are alone.

"Nice kilt," I smirk.

"There's my boys!" he booms. "Or, should I say, my lovely angel, straight from heaven to grace us with his glorious presence," he bows deeply to Dominic before turning to me, "and...erm... the cleaning staff." He doubles over in laughter. "Well done, Bellamy. Oh, your feather duster's so big," he moans orgasmically.

"Damn right it is," I wink, Dominic giggling despite himself. Tom walks up to us then, and his costume makes me do a double-take. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"What?" He turns for me, his maroon smoking jacket open, exposing his chest.

"Playboy? You?"

He winks playfully at me. "Oi! I'll have you know that my pipe makes me look distinguished, and Dominic's halo makes him look gorgeous and positively divine, whereas your fishnets make you look like a common-"

"Carson, how do you put up with him?" I sigh.

Carson waves his hand dismissively. "Shut it, you, we're here to steal your angel away for a bit, Tom and I are gonna show him around, yeah? If that's cool with Dominic, that is!"

"Me?" Dominic mumbles.

"Of course, silly," Tom grins. "Wait till you see the ice sculptures in the sunroom!"

"Oh! O-okay." Dominic looks at me, eyes wide. "But, are you coming? Is that okay with you?" he says nervously.

I reach out to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Of course it is. You're in good hands with these two idiots," I duck as Tom punches my arm, "and I'll be there in a sec, just need to take care of something." His fingertips caress the white lace covering my knuckles and I notice Carson smiling softly at the sight of our joined hands.

"Hurry, yeah?" he whispers, his halo bobbing gently.

"I promise."

I release him reluctantly and Carson & Tom lead him away, but not before turning back to me one last time.

Thank you, I mouth to Carson. He merely smiles widely and nods, one arm around Dominic's waist.

I allow myself to perve over Dominic's too-tight white shorts (though at this point I think they can be classified as swim trunks) as they walk away and silently thank his mother for gifting the world with that tight arse. As soon as they're out of sight the smile leaves my face and I scan the crowd in search of Mort. I hear familiar laughter and turn my head, only to see David, dressed as what seems to be a sexy leprechaun, chatting with a police officer that looks suspiciously like Morgan. David spots me and his eyes widen as his they trail up and down my body. I offer him a smile and wave at him with my feather duster, David waving back quickly with a forced smile before leading Morgan away.

I miss my friend, and I wish I knew how to make things better between us, but I can't think about it right now, I have to find Mort.

I spot him eventually, he's the counterpart to Lou's cheerleader, dressed as an American football player. He's talking with an astronaut that I don't recognize. I stalk towards him in my high heels, twisting my hips as I strut in his general direction, intent on getting some answers.

Funnily enough, I'm getting used to being in this getup. I haven't tripped once in at least, what, thirty seconds now?

I told you I'd make this shit look good.

______________________

Apologies that there's not one for Dominic, but if you're interested...

Carson
Tom
David
And, finally, Matthew