Sweetness Revisited

[million_star]

Title: Sweetness Revisited
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, POV: Matthew
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluff... I really can't stress that enough.
Summary: In which I take a visit back to the Sweetness universe, and this time Matt is narrating. It seems that words are still overrated when it comes to our boys.
Feedback: Is always awesome, if you are so inclined.
Disclaimer: I don't own Matt or Dom, this never happened, no profit is being made and, dammit, lozenges are good.

Author's Note: For the groovalicious (ugh... feel free to smack me for that, LOL.) myz_bee on her birthday. Bee, what can I say? You're the best - and this is just a little thank you for being my alliteration ally, one of my beta babes, and a fabulously fantastic foxy friend. (LOL see what I did there?) &hearts

Thanks to dolce_piccante & shuralove for super-quick feedback, and herverylowness & labmama for help on a critical citrus-y detail. *bows to y'all*

On our last trip down to the car I steal a glance at you for the millionth time today. Again, all I can see is a shadow of my familiar Dominic.

I'm worried about you.

The easy smile that I've grown so used to has been absent from your visage lately and I'm not used to that. The last few days of the tour you seemed distant and, dare I say, a little sad. We still slept in each other's arms at night and said all the right things in front of Chris and Tom, but the both of us knew that something wasn't quite right. Are you merely tired? Burned out?

(Is it me?)

There's only one small bag left in the backseat, your legendary faff bag, as it were. It's now in my hand, so you close the lid and we slowly make the trek upstairs to the flat we've shared for the last few years. I chuckle at just how heavy this damned thing has become over the years. I know I ride you about it quite often, but, truth be told, I'm eternally grateful for it's contents, especially for the coconut-scented shampoo that you've been using lately. That particular scent assails my senses in a truly delicious way when I hold you at night. A small thing, yes, but it makes me happy.

(You make me happy, Dom.)

You close the door behind us as I carry the last set of bags to our bedroom. Our bedroom... there's nothing like coming home to it after months on the road. I glance at the small couch at the window, the one we've slept on so many times at night when we've opted to be a little closer to the stars than our bed will allow. It's not really made for two, though, is it? I smile to myself at the thought of the many mornings after, when we've woken with cramped muscles. Still, it's worth it; I love curling up on it with you. We should do that again soon... tonight maybe? The sound of ice cubes hitting a glass shakes me from my reverie, so I join you in the den.

You're sitting on the couch, a glass in your hand. I'm surprised to see that you're drinking mere ice water, but then I remember that the cupboards and fridge are pretty bare. In the morning we'll have to alleviate that particular problem. I sit down next to you and put a hand on your arm. You glance at me and offer me your glass. I accept it and take a sip of the cold water while you lean forward and put your head in your hands. I frown to myself as I recognize that your shoulders seem tenser than usual. I've tried talking to you the past couple days in an effort to find out what's going on with you, to no avail. I wonder if I should just let my instincts guide me for a change. After all, we both know each other well enough to be able to communicate without words.

Sometimes words seem to cause nothing but trouble. Time to get back to basics.

I place the glass on the table and smooth the hair out of your eyes. It's amazing how my heart soars when you finally gift me with a long look into those grey eyes of yours. You seem to be studying my face intently, your eyes darting back and forth. Finally you stare into mine steadily and I can sense what you are thinking. You sigh shakily.

I'm so tired, Matt.

I nod, because I understand completely. Now I need to convince you to let me look after you, like only I know how to; to make this better for you, as you've done for me so many times before. You're looking at me pleadingly now, and it makes me realize that I don't do this very often, take care of you like this, I mean. I have no problems letting you take the lead when I am the one in need of comfort, and I cringe internally, wondering just how long I've neglected you. I look at you, imploringly this time.

Let me help.

Now it's your turn to nod, and as you do I lean in for a quick kiss before easing you back onto the couch to make yourself comfortable. I leave you and make my way to the bathroom. Once there, I proceed to fill the tub with hot water, pausing only to rummage through your bag in search of that orange scented bubble bath you love but rarely get a chance to use. Once I've found it I reach for my mobile and make a call to our local grocery to arrange a small, last-minute delivery. Task completed, tub filled now, I dim the lights and come for you. You open your eyes when you sense me standing over you, reaching one hand out to grab my hand. I pull you up and look at you yet again, one of my thumbs caressing your cheekbone.

C'mon.

You frown in confusion when I lead you down the hallway until I open the door to the bathroom and we are hit with a cloud of sweet, citrusy-smellling steam. You step into the room and turn to me suddenly, your mouth agape. You weren't expecting this at all... clearly I should spoil you more often. I walk over to you and pull you to me gently, resting my head against your own for a beat before pulling back. I can see the words behind your eyes.

Thank you.

I smile and slowly help you unbutton your shirt while you kick your trainers off. You offer no resistance when I begin to unbutton your jeans, instead you merely rest your head against my shoulder as I free you of them. I remember to offer silent thanks for the fact that you've once again gone commando. Still, undressing you like this is not an erotic act as much as it is one of comfort - and that is precisely what I'm aiming for tonight.

You put one hand out for support as I help you step into the bubbles and I merely watch as you lower yourself gingerly into the water, sighing happily as you finally lean back against the tub and relax. Suddenly you open your eyes and glance at your chest before you question me again with raised eyebrows.

Not much water in here, is there, Bells?

I raise my eyes innocently as I observe said water level. The bubbles begin just underneath your nipples, and I'm oddly pleased with the fact that I knew how much water to draw out for you. Cheeky blue eyes fall to shining grey ones.

I'm a professional. I know precisely what I'm doing, Dom.

I kiss the top of your head, giggling when you throw a handful of bubbles at me playfully. With a wink I leave you alone to have a long, lazy soak, and head into the den to relax myself on the sofa. About thirty minutes later a knock at the door tells me that the grocery delivery is here. Perfect. Once I've paid for the small bag of items I empty the two of them onto the counter and retrieve two bowls before heading back to the bedroom.

I place the two bowls on the nightstand and cover them with a cloth, then open the door to the bathroom and peek inside. You're lying in the tub, your head back and your eyes closed. The air in the small room is still heavy and smells of citrus, and that fact paired with the sight of you, skin glistening from your bath makes my head spin. I watch, transfixed, as a stray drop of water courses across one of your collarbones before disappearing into the bubbles. It's only then that I realize I've been caught staring; now I can see you looking at me with a smirk. You reach out to me.

Help me up?

I do, but not before I retrieve one of the fluffy black towels from the rack on the wall. You stand still for me as I dry you off, then I hold it open and wrap you in it tightly. You sigh into my neck as we share this embrace, the water droplets falling from your damp hair onto my shirt. We remain like that for a few seconds until I feel you shivering slightly. I take you by the hand and lead you to our bed.

Our bed. Never have two words gone together so perfectly. When did I turn into such a romantic?

You offer no argument as I smoothly remove the towel from your waist and let it fall to the floor as you make yourself comfortable atop the black duvet. I've scattered candles across the room, and the way the softly flickering light dances across your skin is completely gorgeous. It seems I've been caught staring again, because you're studying my face intently with a coy smirk.

Stop that. You're making me blush.

My eyes seem to roll against my will.

Yes, because modesty is your middle name, Dom.

We both share a fit of giggles and the sound of your laughter is music to my ears. I only now realize just how much I'd missed hearing it. You smile as you arch your back, turning to your side. It would seem that you've noticed the two bowls on the table now because you look at me questioningly before removing the cloth from atop them. I strip down to my boxers and sit down next to you, smiling to myself as I hear your sharp intake of breath at what you've found. One bowl is full of fresh raspberries, the other with melted dark chocolate. You reach one hand out eagerly until I slap it away from the bowl, my action resulting in a pout forming on your gorgeous lips.

Pweeease, Matthewwwww?

And just like that my attempt at an angry facade shatters. I groan.

That pout's a lethal weapon, you know.

You snuggle closer to me, your hand resting protectively on my waist.

You fucking love it.

You're right, I do. I pick up one of the berries and dip it into the still-warm chocolate and raise it to your lips. Raspberries are so small that there's more chocolate on my fingers than the fruit, and I hiss as you swirl your tongue around them softly. You missed a spot, though, so I smear the remnants onto the corner of your mouth before leaning in to kiss it away. When our lips meet you open to mine slowly, allowing me to taste you.

I don't think you've ever tasted sweeter than you do tonight.

We settle into a familiar pattern; for every berry I feed you I allow myself to steal a kiss afterward. Once the bowls are empty I toss them onto the floor and pull you to me. Your skin is soft and warm, and I want nothing more than to hold you like this for the rest of my days; to wake up to this feeling every morning and know that I have you in my life.

(...to make you happy, Dominic.)

We're now lying face to face against the pillows. I reach out and caress your cheek, my eyes fluttering as you mirror my action. I force them open because I want to look at you one last time before I fall asleep. There's a question in my eyes.

Are you okay?

You smile at me yet again, as you answer me.

I am now.

We lose ourselves in a series of sweet kisses, your arms enveloping me tightly. When we part for air I can't seem to help myself and I whisper softly into your ear.

"I love you, you know."

The last thing I hear before I drift off is your response.

"Love you more, Matthew."

(Not possible, Dom. Not possible.)