million_star | Fierce Frequencies (1/?)

Title: Fierce Frequencies (1/?)
Author:

millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: R for now, I suppose?
Warnings: Language, this chapter.
Summary: America. The 1970's. QBUT Radio is a station with some familiar looking staff members.
Feedback: Is appreciated, if you're so inclined.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no profit is being made and this never happened.
Author's Note: Had this on my mind for some time now, so here we are. I've never set foot in a radio station so I may be taking license with some details, but I hope it's true to the material. :) Thank-yous, as always go out to

dolce_piccante,

myz_bee,

captivemuse,

frolicandfall &

lalalive23 for their friendship, love and encouraging me to write this. Y'all are the best & don't ever forget it! <3

This would not be possible without critical assistance and support from the wonderful, fantastic

rowanfaire. Thank you, thank you, girl. :) <3

"What's crackin', Dom?"

Dominic Howard, disc jockey, looked up from his copy of Tiger Beat* and snorted as his fellow DJ Thomas Kirk strutted into the room.

"The fuck happened to your hair, Kirkster?"

"What?" Tom reached for the plastic pic he'd tucked into his back pocket and ran it through the impressive fluff of brown hair atop his head. "Teased it up, that's all." He smoothed his black shirt, checking to make certain that it was unbuttoned enough to showcase what could only be described as a glorious mane of chest hair.

"Hmm," Dominic mumbled, "ok. Nice 'fro." He lazily scratched his bare chest, the paisley-patterned polyester shirt he was wearing splayed open, the gold chain around his neck on display. He'd paired his favorite shirt with a pair of raspberry colored bellbottomed trousers, the kind you find in a second-hand store. It was Dominic's favorite outfit, never mind the fact that the trousers were painfully tight in the ass.

Tom watched as the blond sat back in his chair and turned the magazine vertically, taking in what was clearly an intriguing centerfold.

"My hair? The fuck happened to your brain, Dom? Tiger Beat? You're not a twelve year old girl."

Dominic looked up just as the copy of Playgirl he'd been concealing in the teen magazine fell to the floor.

"Busted," Tom laughed. The blond angrily leaned over and picked up his new magazine, sighing.

"Someone tell me," he said with an air of boredom, "why the hell we have to have a staff meeting this early? I should be home in bed. There's a reason I wanted the nighttime slot here, so I wouldn't have to see you nerds as often."

"Such sweet words," Tom sniffed, his hand on his heart, "you're an angel, Dom. A gay, disco-loving, record-spinning angel."

"Angel, my ass." Morgan Nicholls, the station's salesman quipped, walking into the room. He loosened his tie and reached for his coffee. Dominic flipped him the bird, but smiled as he did. "I didn't think you got out of bed before five in the afternoon, Howard. Well done!"

"Fucking staff meeting. Still, at least you two cats got to see my face this morning. Lucky bastards, you are."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "It's two in the afternoon, Dom."

"That's morning to our princess here," Tom joked.

"Exactly," Dominic affirmed.

"Late night, I assume?" Morgan continued, amused. "What was his name this time? And what's your secret, a player like you, Dom? I could use some pointers with the ladies."

Dominic snorted and rolled his eyes. "Like I'm gonna tell you. Gotta keep my game smooth, man. Sorry."

Welcome to QBUT radio.

"Think I hear The Dude coming," Dominic said, scratching the back of his neck.

He was right. A collection of quick, sure footsteps made their way down the corridor. Their owner opened the door to his office and nodded at the three men who composed the main talent of his radio station. The Dude was the station manager, Christopher Wolstenholme. A family man, Christopher had inherited the station when his father decided to step aside two years ago, proclaiming he was tired of the business. This was like a dream come true for Christopher; he'd worked under his father for many a year and was relishing the opportunity to make a name for himself in radio.

"Hey, guys, thanks for coming. I'll keep this quick." He sat down, closing the door behind him, but not before he glanced the blond's way.

"Your sideburns are getting out of control, Dominic."

"Be cool," the DJ replied with a wink, propping his legs on his bosses desk. "S'not like the listeners can see me.

"Get your feet off my desk," Christopher replied with the calm matter-of-factness that he was known for. His employees loved working for him, and respected him - and they also knew that he didn't tolerate bullshit or laziness.

"Sorry," Dominic mumbled, blushing.

"Seems like things are about to change for us," the station manager began, tapping out a beat with the pen in his hand on his thigh, "and it's time to bring in someone new for the midnight to four AM slot."

"Someone new? What about The Lady?" Tom asked, eyes wide.

The Lady in question was Leigh "Luscious Lady" Bogart, who hosted a love advice radio talk program in the overnight slot. She'd been with the station for seven years, dispensing love and relationship advice. Over the years she'd inspired three different couples to tie the knot and is the namesake of at least two listeners baby girls, much to her delight.

"She's pregnant," Christopher beamed, his thick mustache framing his smile gorgeously, "and she and Mike want to get a fresh start closer to her parents. I've known for a few days now. She gave me her notice last week."

"Leigh as a mama!" Tom squealed. "Wonderful news!"

"Sure is. But, dang, man," Morgan interrupted, "I'll miss her! Who's gonna take over the Lady's Love Lounge, chief?"

"Nobody could ever replace Leigh; the final new broadcast will be Friday night. We're gonna go in a different direction for the overnight slot."

"How so?" Tom inquired.

"Different how?" Morgan asked, at the same time.

Dominic merely chewed on his bubble gum loudly, some might say obnoxiously, and took in the scene that was unfolding before him. He was bored beyond tears.

Almost as if on cue there was a knock at the door to the office. Christopher smiled widely. "He's right on time! Come in!"

"He? As in," Tom interrupted, aghast, "a dude!?"

The door opened and a man in a slim, fitted white leisure suit walked in.

Dominic turned around in his chair and his eyes widened. He popped the large pink bubble in his mouth and sat up straighter, smoothing his trousers. This did not go unnoticed by Tom, who waggled his eyebrows in Dominic's direction, Morgan elbowing him with a hiss.

The stranger's steps were confident, his face friendly, and his smile genuine. Christopher stood and met him, the two of them shaking hands. The station manager turned to his crew and put his hand on the stranger's shoulder.

"Guys, meet Matthew Bellamy, our new overnight host."

Introductions were made all around, Matthew shaking everyone's hands and giving them a polite greeting, the smile on his face widening with each minute that passed. Dominic smiled warmly at Matthew, impressed with the glittering blue eyes the newest member of QBUT possessed. The DJ took a moment to take in Matthew's other attributes; his smooth, pale skin, the silver chain that rested against his neck, the way his thick shock of black hair rested so perfectly atop his head.

His trousers clung to his backside deliciously, so much so that Dominic sighed when Matthew sat down, effectively ending his little peep show.

"So, what's the deal here? Do you dish out love and sex advice like Leigh?" Tom asked.

"No, no," Matthew answered with a shake of his head, "I'm afraid my airtime will be spent discussing some... erm, quite different topics."

"What kind, Mr. Bellamy?" Dominic asked sweetly, and this time it was Morgan's turn to roll his eyes.

Matthew turned to Dominic and smiled brightly. "Call me Matthew, please. And let's just say my specialty is," he waved one hand dramatically, "the unknown."

"Ooh, trippy," Tom whispered.

"What about all of you? Remind me again, I'm a little nervous," Matthew blushed, "Morgan, you work in sales, yes?"

"That's right!" The new host nodded to himself and glanced at Tom. "And you, Tom, spin rock records, and you," he pointed at Dominic, "you...?"

"I'm host of The Den." The blond announced, pausing for effect. Matthew merely blinked.

"The Den?"

"Diamond Dominic's Disco Den," the DJ continued, a toothy smile on his face. He ran one hand through his feathered blond hair, dialing up the charm as much as he could. "Surely you've heard of it?"

"Oh! No, actually. But it sounds nice! Really, really nice!" Matthew said, nodding politely, turning his attention back to Christopher. He didn't notice Dominic's sigh of frustration at his lack of interest in his The Den.

"Alright, guys," Christopher said, pointing at the door, "now that you've met Matthew, leave us in peace. He and I have some things we need to go over, yeah?"

Dutifully, Tom, Morgan and Dominic mumbled their farewells, Dominic glancing at the newcomer once more, hoping to get gifted with another flash of those azure colored eyes, but it wasn't to be.

"Wait, not you, Dominic."

The blond turned, absentmindedly fingering the gold medallion against his chest. "Yeah, chief?"

"Morgan tells me a couple of our sponsors aren't happy."

"Why?" Dominic asked innocently.

"Dammit, Dom," Christopher said, exasperated, "you've got to stop calling the station... what you keep calling it now and then. Apparently you did it again last night."

Matthew, intrigued, turned and glanced at Dominic, his eyes twinkling.

"It's catchy!" Dominic argued. "It-"

"It's not a flattering nickname. It makes us look ridiculous." The look in Christopher's eyes prompted the DJ to shut his mouth. Dominic replayed that particular portion of last night's broadcast in his mind.

Tom had told Dominic he didn't have the testicular fortitude to go through with it; had bet him $20 he'd chicken out. He'd kept pacing around outside the booth every time Dominic spoke into the mic, his hands nervously smoothing his afro.

"I'm afraid it's that time again, my pets. It's a quarter till midnight, and time for me to fly. This, my delicious den mates, is Hot Chocolate, with 'You Sexy Thing', here on..."

Dominic glanced at the small window in the door that led into the booth. Morgan was standing there, staring at him, eyes wide. He mouthed "NO", shaking his head. Dominic winked and grinned easily as he spoke.

"... on, QBUT, The Butt. This is Diamond Dom, signing off until next time. Stay cool, cats." He emerged from the booth and collected his money, Tom's eyes wide.

"You just called the station 'The Butt'. On the air. AGAIN. The Dude is gonna kill you, Dom."

"Pfft, he'll never find out."

"Okay, chief. Understood." With that he nodded at the two seated men and walked away, Matthew's voice coming to him.

"I have to ask, I'm afraid curiosity is getting the better of me here. What nickname did he use on the air?"

The station manager groaned. "Let's not talk about that. Now, let's get started..."

(*Tiger Beat is an American teen idol magazine)

Current Mood: nervous

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

frisky-biscuit.livejournal.com

Oh bb, where do I even begin???

Diamond Dom? Tiger Beat? QBUT??? I am just loooving it. But I especially squee'd over

"Your sideburns are getting out of control, Dominic."

"Be cool," the DJ replied with a wink, propping his legs on his bosses desk. "S'not like the listeners can see me.

"Get your feet off my desk," Christopher replied with the calm matter-of-factness that he was known for.

idek why, but Chris saying that to Dom makes me giggle. I cannot WAIT to see Matthew in action with his radio show, and girlll, I'm just squeeing over "The Butt."

You are amazing. Truefax.

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Fierce Frequencies (1/?)

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