Son Of A Preacher Man (17/?)
Jun. 22nd, 2011 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
million_starTitle: Son Of A Preacher Man (17/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: This part, R
Warnings: Language, Sudden Southern Drawls, Tight Blue Jeans.
Summary: AU Belldom, set in the Deep American South. Enough said, y'all.
Feedback: Is welcome & appreciated, if you're so inclined.
Archive: Links only.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no $$ being made, and this is fiction. Title taken lovingly from the song of the same name.
Author's note: As always, eternal thanks todolce_piccante & myz_bee for their beta skills and constant encouragement. So much love, ladies.<3 Special kudos to lalalive23 for being an uber smexy cheerleader. *hugs*
And as always, HUGE thanks to my sis,captivemuse for her help in all thangs Southern. She's got-damned essential to this fic. Make no mistake. <3
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen
Isaiah Newton's farm sat on about forty acres six miles outside town, according to Christopher. The road was long and winding and, in some places, not paved very well. However, at 6:30 that particular morning, Dominic Howard wasn't the least bit bothered. He punched the accelerator, and his truck hugged every single turn expertly, and with each shifting of the gears his anger grew.
After an evening spent in Matthew's arms he'd been reluctant to move his tired bones from the small couch to go home. Tears had a way of draining a man, but his physical exhaustion was due to more than that; it was clear that Matthew himself had been upset about something and that fact added to Dominic's own weariness. The thought of climbing into Matthew's bed was one that had been incredibly welcome, and when the brunet had suggested it, Dominic came very close to accepting the offer. But he wanted his own bed, namely the thin quilt that Gretchen had sewn for him all those years ago.
"I can't, blue eyes, I'm just so tired. Is that okay?"
"'Course it's okay," Matthew had insisted, nibbling on Dominic's still-trembling lower lip, "I'll see ya tomorrow."
"Damn right, you will. Kiss me again?"
For most of the drive home Dominic replayed that last kiss on a constant loop in his mind, and when he pulled into his driveway about fifteen minutes later he didn't notice his father was sitting on the porch waiting for him. His legs were heavy and exhausted as he slid from the truck seat and he wasn't sure if they'd be able to carry him up to his bed. He wondered in that moment if it was so wrong to wish he were a little boy again, to want to jump into his daddy's arms like he used to do at night, laughing happily as Gabriel climbed the staircase with his baby boy on his shoulders. Gretchen was always waiting with her arms open at the top of the stairs; it was one of those images that would always be with Dominic. Putting one foot in front of the other, Dominic made his way up the porch steps, sitting down next to his father.
"Hi, daddy."
"What's wrong, son?"
Dominic smiled ruefully in the dark. Even now after all these years his father had a knack for sensing that something was wrong with one of his boys. It was that paternal instinct that couldn't be learned, it had to be instilled in a man. On the rare times that Dominic considered the possibility of becoming a father someday, that was one of the traits he fervently hoped he'd possess himself.
"M'sorry ya waited up. Y'must be killed, it's late."
Gabriel frowned. "Don't worry 'bout that. What can I do?"
"Y'ever have one of those days where y'just wish y'could go back to bed and start over?"
"I have."
"I just wanna go to bed. When I'm sleepin' at least I ain't thinkin'. Y'know?"
His father nodded, remaining silent as Dominic stood.
"Unless y'needed me for somethin'?"
"No. Did you see Matthew tonight?"
Gabriel was torn. He had intended to talk to Dominic about the visit Jacob Bellamy had paid him earlier that evening. but now it seemed more important that his son got a good night's rest. Perhaps things would look a little less hopeless after a night of sleep. Satisfied for the moment with that decision, he forced a tired smile onto his face as Dominic pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Yeah, I did. I don't think he had a very good day either, but he didn't wanna talk about it," Dominic answered quietly.
That answers that, Gabriel thought. Apparently Matthew hadn't shared with Dominic what happened at the store earlier. "Go on to bed, son. We'll talk in the mornin' maybe. Sleep tight."
He'd taken his time in the shower, willing the scalding water to wash his melancholy away. It worked, at least a little bit, and by the time he'd dried off and put on his favorite pair of Batman boxers, he felt marginally better. Dominic was spent in every imaginable way, but when his clock struck midnight he stuck to the plan he'd concocted earlier and reached for his cellphone. He frowned when Matthew picked up on the first ring; clearly the brunet was still awake when he should have been sleeping soundly.
"Hey, you! Is something wrong?"
"You tell me," Dominic replied softly, "please."
"What?"
"I know somethin's happened, and y'told me to ask ya tomorrow. Well, it's 12:01, which means it's tomorrow, which means, well-"
"It can wait. Yer exhausted, get some rest and we'll talk later," Matthew pleaded, "please, I don't wanna-"
"Don't you see I ain't gonna be gettin' any rest till you tell me what's wrong? You-" the blond swallowed, "yer so important t'me, Matthew. Talk t'me."
Dominic's hands clenched the steering wheel tightly as he remembered the turn that their conversation took last night. The things that Matthew told him had brought tears to his eyes and put an unwelcome strain on his normally peaceful soul. How was it possible that people could be so cruel to their fellow human beings, especially those they didn't even know. It wasn't even the intolerance that this Newton man was spewing, even though that was quite disgusting, no, it was the fact that now Dominic knew how Matthew's voice sounded when it was riddled with tears.
That was something that the blond couldn't forgive. Not under any circumstance.
He'd done his best to comfort Matthew, even going so far as to offer to come back over to be with him.
"Don't you start," Matthew groaned. "I want ya in my bed more than anything-"
"I can be there in ten minutes."
"But, listen, just hearin' your voice makes me feel better," Matthew replied. "Go on, have sweet dreams, okay?"
The sign directing supply trucks to the Newton Farm was old, yet owned a distinctive design. When Dominic's headlights illuminated it he could see a bright red capital letter N, with lush stems of green ivy winding around it; this was actually the trademark insignia that was found on the farm's packaging and employee uniforms.
He turned onto the road and was surprised to see a guard station, complete with a gated entrance. There was activity on the farm this early in the morning, for a group of men were inspecting what looked like part of the latest crop of corn. Apparently the Newton's were well off, for Dominic felt like he was visiting Southfork Ranch, judging by the expensive cars and trucks parked on the side of the road. A rotund man walked out of the small station, peering at the blond with a look of distrust on his face.
"Somethin' I can do fer you?"
"I'll handle this, Jethro."
The guard jumped out of his skin; neither he nor Dominic had noticed the man in the cowboy hat who had come up behind him. "Yes sir, Mr. Newton," he nodded, practically running away.
"Hey, Isaiah, we need ya over here!"
"Be right back," he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Dominic.
So, this was Isaiah Newton.
What precisely Dominic had been expecting, he wasn't certain, but one thing was for sure, it wasn't this small, relatively harmless looking man. Surely this man was a brute, a giant with a large, neon pink name tag that proclaimed him to be a bigot, not someone who looked so nondescript. Harmless.
Normal.
"Do I know you, boy?"
There it was, Dominic realized. Five words, spoken with a level of hatred like none he'd ever encountered before. Even though the anger was still simmering in the blond's chest, another emotion was battling for dominance with it now.
Pity.
What was he doing here? Was he going to pick a fight with Isaiah Newton? Suddenly he felt quite silly; he didn't need this man to approve of his and Matthew's relationship, Gabriel didn't need his approval to be a good pastor, and this man was certainly not the only customer the Bellamy's had. No, no good would come from confronting the man before him, Dominic realized. This man would not be able to destroy what he and Matthew were taking such care to create between them unless they allowed him to. And Dominic, for his part, refused to stoop to that level. He blinked.
"No, sir. I was just lookin' for Route 32, musta made a wrong turn."
"This here's private property. Remember that."
"Yes, sir," Dominic answered as he drove away.
* * *
Allison, the park's office receptionist, was in the process of shutting her computer down for the day when Dominic walked in. She smiled at the blond and winked as she teased her boyfriend, one of Dominic's fellow rangers. "Jason, yer crazy. Ain't nothin' like the original 'Jolene'." With that proclamation she ripped the earbuds from her ears.
"The White Stripes version ain't bad though," Jason grumbled, turning off his mp3 player, "and it ain't rightly supposed t'sound like the original, it's a cover!"
Allison crossed her arms. "Why listen to a cover when y'can listen to the original? Seems so simple to me."
"Dominic, help me out here, please!"
Dominic signed his daily reports, chuckling to himself. He was ecstatic that he'd managed to forge bonds with the staff at the park so quickly, and after only a few days he found himself always looking forward to the end of the day when he got to see the usually bickering couple.
"Sorry, man, I'm with Ally on this one, give me Dolly any day."
Jason snorted. "Yer just sayin' that cause of her rack, man."
"Trust me," Dominic snorted, "it ain't that at all. I gotta go, I'll see y'all in the mornin'!"
Allison raised her eyebrows. "Hot date?"
"I'll never tell," he sang, adorably, though off-key, as he closed the door behind him. He was still smiling as he opened the door to his truck a few minutes later.
"Hey."
A soft tap to his shoulder caused Dominic's head to turn in surprise, and that was precisely when the stranger threw a fist full of dirt into the blond's eyes.
The suddenness with which the blow to his face was delivered forced him to the ground, Dominic hitting his head against his truck in the process. Spare pieces of sharp gravel made their way into his knees, the pain prompting him to cry out. It was the single, violent kick to his stomach, however, that knocked the wind from his lungs. He tried to breathe as his attacker continued to dominate him with three more swift kicks to his gut as he attempted to understand what was happening.
What? Who? Why?
He spat a mouthful of blood out onto the pavement, curling instinctively into a ball. Dominic had never really been in scrapes as a young boy; mind you, he knew how to defend himself to the odd bully, but this was something different. This coward had stunned him into a sense of forced submission by rendering him unable to see. No, this was a brutal, deliberate, physical attack, one that he was helpless to stop; he could barely open his eyes, they were still stinging as he tried in vain to clear the dirt and dust from them.
He kicked his feet blindly, connecting with the other man's body at one point, judging by the groan that escaped his mouth.
Dominic could hear voices yelling in the distance; he tried to turn onto his back but gasped, choking on the gravel in his mouth that was now mixing with the blood that was already there. The voices were getting closer, and his assailant sensed it as well evidently, for he pressed his boot into Dominic's neck and leaned down close to him, the blond struggling to breathe.
"Fuckin' queer," the voice hissed, spitting on the blond to punctuate his hateful statement before running away.
Author:
millionstarPairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: This part, R
Warnings: Language, Sudden Southern Drawls, Tight Blue Jeans.
Summary: AU Belldom, set in the Deep American South. Enough said, y'all.
Feedback: Is welcome & appreciated, if you're so inclined.
Archive: Links only.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no $$ being made, and this is fiction. Title taken lovingly from the song of the same name.
Author's note: As always, eternal thanks to
dolce_piccante & myz_bee for their beta skills and constant encouragement. So much love, ladies.<3 Special kudos to lalalive23 for being an uber smexy cheerleader. *hugs* And as always, HUGE thanks to my sis,
captivemuse for her help in all thangs Southern. She's got-damned essential to this fic. Make no mistake. <3 One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen
Isaiah Newton's farm sat on about forty acres six miles outside town, according to Christopher. The road was long and winding and, in some places, not paved very well. However, at 6:30 that particular morning, Dominic Howard wasn't the least bit bothered. He punched the accelerator, and his truck hugged every single turn expertly, and with each shifting of the gears his anger grew.
After an evening spent in Matthew's arms he'd been reluctant to move his tired bones from the small couch to go home. Tears had a way of draining a man, but his physical exhaustion was due to more than that; it was clear that Matthew himself had been upset about something and that fact added to Dominic's own weariness. The thought of climbing into Matthew's bed was one that had been incredibly welcome, and when the brunet had suggested it, Dominic came very close to accepting the offer. But he wanted his own bed, namely the thin quilt that Gretchen had sewn for him all those years ago.
"I can't, blue eyes, I'm just so tired. Is that okay?"
"'Course it's okay," Matthew had insisted, nibbling on Dominic's still-trembling lower lip, "I'll see ya tomorrow."
"Damn right, you will. Kiss me again?"
For most of the drive home Dominic replayed that last kiss on a constant loop in his mind, and when he pulled into his driveway about fifteen minutes later he didn't notice his father was sitting on the porch waiting for him. His legs were heavy and exhausted as he slid from the truck seat and he wasn't sure if they'd be able to carry him up to his bed. He wondered in that moment if it was so wrong to wish he were a little boy again, to want to jump into his daddy's arms like he used to do at night, laughing happily as Gabriel climbed the staircase with his baby boy on his shoulders. Gretchen was always waiting with her arms open at the top of the stairs; it was one of those images that would always be with Dominic. Putting one foot in front of the other, Dominic made his way up the porch steps, sitting down next to his father.
"Hi, daddy."
"What's wrong, son?"
Dominic smiled ruefully in the dark. Even now after all these years his father had a knack for sensing that something was wrong with one of his boys. It was that paternal instinct that couldn't be learned, it had to be instilled in a man. On the rare times that Dominic considered the possibility of becoming a father someday, that was one of the traits he fervently hoped he'd possess himself.
"M'sorry ya waited up. Y'must be killed, it's late."
Gabriel frowned. "Don't worry 'bout that. What can I do?"
"Y'ever have one of those days where y'just wish y'could go back to bed and start over?"
"I have."
"I just wanna go to bed. When I'm sleepin' at least I ain't thinkin'. Y'know?"
His father nodded, remaining silent as Dominic stood.
"Unless y'needed me for somethin'?"
"No. Did you see Matthew tonight?"
Gabriel was torn. He had intended to talk to Dominic about the visit Jacob Bellamy had paid him earlier that evening. but now it seemed more important that his son got a good night's rest. Perhaps things would look a little less hopeless after a night of sleep. Satisfied for the moment with that decision, he forced a tired smile onto his face as Dominic pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Yeah, I did. I don't think he had a very good day either, but he didn't wanna talk about it," Dominic answered quietly.
That answers that, Gabriel thought. Apparently Matthew hadn't shared with Dominic what happened at the store earlier. "Go on to bed, son. We'll talk in the mornin' maybe. Sleep tight."
He'd taken his time in the shower, willing the scalding water to wash his melancholy away. It worked, at least a little bit, and by the time he'd dried off and put on his favorite pair of Batman boxers, he felt marginally better. Dominic was spent in every imaginable way, but when his clock struck midnight he stuck to the plan he'd concocted earlier and reached for his cellphone. He frowned when Matthew picked up on the first ring; clearly the brunet was still awake when he should have been sleeping soundly.
"Hey, you! Is something wrong?"
"You tell me," Dominic replied softly, "please."
"What?"
"I know somethin's happened, and y'told me to ask ya tomorrow. Well, it's 12:01, which means it's tomorrow, which means, well-"
"It can wait. Yer exhausted, get some rest and we'll talk later," Matthew pleaded, "please, I don't wanna-"
"Don't you see I ain't gonna be gettin' any rest till you tell me what's wrong? You-" the blond swallowed, "yer so important t'me, Matthew. Talk t'me."
Dominic's hands clenched the steering wheel tightly as he remembered the turn that their conversation took last night. The things that Matthew told him had brought tears to his eyes and put an unwelcome strain on his normally peaceful soul. How was it possible that people could be so cruel to their fellow human beings, especially those they didn't even know. It wasn't even the intolerance that this Newton man was spewing, even though that was quite disgusting, no, it was the fact that now Dominic knew how Matthew's voice sounded when it was riddled with tears.
That was something that the blond couldn't forgive. Not under any circumstance.
He'd done his best to comfort Matthew, even going so far as to offer to come back over to be with him.
"Don't you start," Matthew groaned. "I want ya in my bed more than anything-"
"I can be there in ten minutes."
"But, listen, just hearin' your voice makes me feel better," Matthew replied. "Go on, have sweet dreams, okay?"
The sign directing supply trucks to the Newton Farm was old, yet owned a distinctive design. When Dominic's headlights illuminated it he could see a bright red capital letter N, with lush stems of green ivy winding around it; this was actually the trademark insignia that was found on the farm's packaging and employee uniforms.
He turned onto the road and was surprised to see a guard station, complete with a gated entrance. There was activity on the farm this early in the morning, for a group of men were inspecting what looked like part of the latest crop of corn. Apparently the Newton's were well off, for Dominic felt like he was visiting Southfork Ranch, judging by the expensive cars and trucks parked on the side of the road. A rotund man walked out of the small station, peering at the blond with a look of distrust on his face.
"Somethin' I can do fer you?"
"I'll handle this, Jethro."
The guard jumped out of his skin; neither he nor Dominic had noticed the man in the cowboy hat who had come up behind him. "Yes sir, Mr. Newton," he nodded, practically running away.
"Hey, Isaiah, we need ya over here!"
"Be right back," he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Dominic.
So, this was Isaiah Newton.
What precisely Dominic had been expecting, he wasn't certain, but one thing was for sure, it wasn't this small, relatively harmless looking man. Surely this man was a brute, a giant with a large, neon pink name tag that proclaimed him to be a bigot, not someone who looked so nondescript. Harmless.
Normal.
"Do I know you, boy?"
There it was, Dominic realized. Five words, spoken with a level of hatred like none he'd ever encountered before. Even though the anger was still simmering in the blond's chest, another emotion was battling for dominance with it now.
Pity.
What was he doing here? Was he going to pick a fight with Isaiah Newton? Suddenly he felt quite silly; he didn't need this man to approve of his and Matthew's relationship, Gabriel didn't need his approval to be a good pastor, and this man was certainly not the only customer the Bellamy's had. No, no good would come from confronting the man before him, Dominic realized. This man would not be able to destroy what he and Matthew were taking such care to create between them unless they allowed him to. And Dominic, for his part, refused to stoop to that level. He blinked.
"No, sir. I was just lookin' for Route 32, musta made a wrong turn."
"This here's private property. Remember that."
"Yes, sir," Dominic answered as he drove away.
Allison, the park's office receptionist, was in the process of shutting her computer down for the day when Dominic walked in. She smiled at the blond and winked as she teased her boyfriend, one of Dominic's fellow rangers. "Jason, yer crazy. Ain't nothin' like the original 'Jolene'." With that proclamation she ripped the earbuds from her ears.
"The White Stripes version ain't bad though," Jason grumbled, turning off his mp3 player, "and it ain't rightly supposed t'sound like the original, it's a cover!"
Allison crossed her arms. "Why listen to a cover when y'can listen to the original? Seems so simple to me."
"Dominic, help me out here, please!"
Dominic signed his daily reports, chuckling to himself. He was ecstatic that he'd managed to forge bonds with the staff at the park so quickly, and after only a few days he found himself always looking forward to the end of the day when he got to see the usually bickering couple.
"Sorry, man, I'm with Ally on this one, give me Dolly any day."
Jason snorted. "Yer just sayin' that cause of her rack, man."
"Trust me," Dominic snorted, "it ain't that at all. I gotta go, I'll see y'all in the mornin'!"
Allison raised her eyebrows. "Hot date?"
"I'll never tell," he sang, adorably, though off-key, as he closed the door behind him. He was still smiling as he opened the door to his truck a few minutes later.
"Hey."
A soft tap to his shoulder caused Dominic's head to turn in surprise, and that was precisely when the stranger threw a fist full of dirt into the blond's eyes.
The suddenness with which the blow to his face was delivered forced him to the ground, Dominic hitting his head against his truck in the process. Spare pieces of sharp gravel made their way into his knees, the pain prompting him to cry out. It was the single, violent kick to his stomach, however, that knocked the wind from his lungs. He tried to breathe as his attacker continued to dominate him with three more swift kicks to his gut as he attempted to understand what was happening.
What? Who? Why?
He spat a mouthful of blood out onto the pavement, curling instinctively into a ball. Dominic had never really been in scrapes as a young boy; mind you, he knew how to defend himself to the odd bully, but this was something different. This coward had stunned him into a sense of forced submission by rendering him unable to see. No, this was a brutal, deliberate, physical attack, one that he was helpless to stop; he could barely open his eyes, they were still stinging as he tried in vain to clear the dirt and dust from them.
He kicked his feet blindly, connecting with the other man's body at one point, judging by the groan that escaped his mouth.
Dominic could hear voices yelling in the distance; he tried to turn onto his back but gasped, choking on the gravel in his mouth that was now mixing with the blood that was already there. The voices were getting closer, and his assailant sensed it as well evidently, for he pressed his boot into Dominic's neck and leaned down close to him, the blond struggling to breathe.
"Fuckin' queer," the voice hissed, spitting on the blond to punctuate his hateful statement before running away.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-23 11:05 am (UTC)