summary: Matt is a piano protégé. Dom is a painter who excels passed many his age. They meet at a young age and strike up an instant friendship. From friends to lovers, this is their story, spanning over a course of over two decades.
feedback: I wants it, my precious.
disclaimer: I think if I owned Muse, you would know about it. They're a bit famous so I doubt it'd be something easily hidden.
warning: Dom gets off.
8 January, 1996
Moaning. A glimpse of naked flesh and the curves of a woman. A hushed sigh.
Heat and the image of a nude woman in a magazine coming to life on the page and stroking the side of her body while her smile grows seductively.
Fantasy unwinds and Dominic feels lips trail down his abdomen.
He’s alight with fire.
His blood pulses faster, liquid nitrogen racing through his veins.
Pressure and pleasure all coiled together.
Images of faceless bodies entwined together. Grinding, faster. Breaths and whispers mixing and rushing over his skin.
Sweat-slickened skin sliding smooth, sweat and flesh burning and compromising.
A flash of vivid blue engulfing his internal vision and silence like the aftershock of a disaster.
Dominic woke with a start, his eyes wide, and pushed his hands deep into the mattress of his bed until he was nearly sitting upright. His legs were spread, an unfamiliar knot of tension present at the base of his stomach. Gasping from the intensity of a dream that was beginning to fade from his memory, Dominic propped himself up on one arm and wiped a hand down his face with the other, a light sheen of sweat shining across his forehead.
Half asleep, he glanced down the length of his body and groaned, his arm giving out from underneath him as he plopped back down to once again lay flat. It was back again; the Boner. While it was not the first time Dominic had had an erection, it was definitely the first time he’d had one from a dream or the second in a day.
The first happened quite unexpectedly, as they do, earlier that day when he was watching some movie about a vampire who tells his life’s story to a reporter with Matthew, both sitting on his bed after school. Getting a hard on in the same bed as one of his closest friends while they’re a little less than a foot apart was awkward, to say the least. He had tried to act casual and bend his right leg up and simultaneously reach behind him for one of the two pillows he was leaning against to put in his lap, but when he quickly gave Matthew a sideways glance, the light red tint of blush on his face told Dominic that he’d noticed.
Dominic yawned, frustrated at being woken up in the middle of the night, and glared down at his tented boxers. His dream, from what he remembered, was a jumbled mess of images and sounds. Dominic recalled seeing the sex magazine that Tom had given him and he’d never thrown away. He was mildly confused by the random burst of blue that had taken up his mind’s eye just before he awoke. Muffling a second yawn, he willed himself to think of anything that might turn him off and allow him a few more hours of sleep before he woke for school.
A few minutes passed with no luck of his hormones calming and Dominic let out an irritated sound as he sat up quickly. “Just go away. Please?” The last word he uttered was nothing short of a plea, and he batted his erection in a vain attempt to fear it into flaccidity. He jumped at the shock that raced through him and cursed when his effort ended up giving him pleasure. “Counterproductive…this is bollocks,” he muttered darkly.
He leaned his head back and let it hang between his shoulders as he stared at the ceiling, making himself think of anything other than the desire he had to touch himself. Despite remembering when he had witnessed an elderly couple kissing – which, frankly, grossed him out, he was not successful.
“Can you not just, y’know, go away and come again another day? Like, when I don’t need to sleep?” Dominic whispered at his groin after a couple of moments, his tone defeated. He flipped over onto his stomach, trying to ignore the hardness pressing into his belly, and whined quietly as he closed his eyes.
Dominic inhaled deeply and was briefly distracted when he breathed in Matthew’s scent, a wave of shock hitting him until he remembered that this was the side of the bed Matthew had been laying on. He dismissed those thoughts the same time he gave an experimental roll into his mattress, his hips stuttering at the gentle pressure.
Honestly, he didn’t quite know what he was doing and was only reacting on instinct, his hips earning a mind of their own as he began to grind slowly into the bed. The soft material of his boxers rubbed against the flushed skin of his erection and caused him to let an unintentional moan escape his throat, the sensation spreading throughout his body now too intense for him to be embarrassed or worried of his parents hearing.
Dominic moved to rest on his forearms, his hands clenched in fists and his forehead pressed into his pillow as he squeezed eyes shut and gasped. He bucked into the mattress, the rhythm he’d fallen into quickening. His shoulders squeezed together and the teasing knot of tension at the base of his spine began to coil tighter, the friction against his skin blinding him from the pleasure of it. He gasped, breathless, Matthew’s scent from the pillow permeating the air around him and for a moment his world stilled, lost in the moment of release as his boxers became damp from his come.
He continued to pant as the aftershocks of his orgasm washed over him, and he grunted in lazy surprise when he tasted blood in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and felt a sting, realizing belatedly that he had bitten his lip.
Sighing, he collapsed onto his bed, arms and legs spread out, completely forgetting about the mess he didn’t clean as he fell back asleep.
16 March, 1996
The heat of Dominic’s fireplace warmed both him and Matthew as they sat in his living room, the dark haired boy sitting with his knees to his chest by the window as he watched the rain fall, his expression solemn, and Dominic lying on the sofa next to him, doodling in his notebook as he waited for the water for their tea to boil. It was a Saturday afternoon, the boys’ plans to go to the cinema canceled when a sudden thunderstorm decided to rear its head. Matthew hadn’t minded, mentioning briefly that, given the mood he was in, he would much rather stay indoors. Dominic was okay with that and embraced his mother and father’s absence; they were both attending a funeral of some friend of a cousin of a friend of a step-brother twice removed and once re-added or something equally confusing.
“I used to think raindrops were angel tears.” Matthew quietly said, his eyes focused on something outside. “Though I could never decide why angels would cry. Cos their s’pposed to be things of purity, right? Of happiness and light. I always thought that I was a bad person for liking when it rained because why would anyone want an angel to cry?”
Dominic had paused, the end of his pen resting against his bottom lip as he cocked his head to the side and glanced up to look at his friend. It wasn’t rare for Matthew to randomly bring something up like that, but something in his voice sounded almost sad this time. “I dunno. Maybe they’re crying tears of happiness?” He tried to offer, slightly befuddled by what the other boy had believed in when he was younger. That was the beauty in Matthew’s personality, though, that Dominic was most fond of. He was endlessly fascinated by how different Matthew was, how careless he was of other’s opinions of him. He liked that he trusted Dominic enough to allow him to be privy to the eternal workings of his mind, to all of the quirks and fleeting thoughts that always seemed to be trying to escape and let themselves be known. It was the comfort of Matthew’s faith in their friendship that made him feel free as well to share anything that was on his mind at a given time, though those moments were more rare.
Matthew let out a short, quick breath of air, like a laugh without humor behind it. “Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t really matter though, cos I’ve realized now that rain is simply when a cloud lets out all the water droplets it’s been holding.” He sighed. “I don’t know if I believe in angels anymore.”
Dominic sighed as well, dropping his pen and folding his hands while he leaned forward over his notebook and rested his chin on the arm of the sofa. He shook his head when his hair fell his eyes and said, “why not? It’s not a bad thing to believe in.”
At that, Matthew snorted. “Spare me, Dom. You don’t believe in them anymore than I believe in Santa Claus.”
Dominic gasped. “Oh my god, who told you he didn’t exist?” He exclaimed conspiratorially, faux surprise masking his face before he laughed at Matthew’s bemused expression. “What’s up, mate? You’ve been out of it all afternoon.”
“The only thing I’m out of is the ability to detect your humor.” Matthew tried for a few seconds to hold back a grin but failed when Dominic stuck his tongue out at him, the blonde pushing himself up off of the sofa when the whistle of the kettle sounded.
He came back a few minutes later with a cup in each hand, keeping the green tea for himself before setting the lemon on the side table next to the chair Matthew sat in. They chatted for a bit over random topics, like about the book Dominic was reading or if Matthew was going to ever take an art class. After awhile the conversation moved to girls and Dominic kept poking Matthew’s side until he was doubled over in laughter because he wouldn’t tell him if there was anyone he liked. Matthew’s argument was that their school was all-boys, but Dominic was prepared for that and rebutted with fact that those boys had sisters who had friends who all hung out in the same vicinity as where they did. Despite Dominic’s continuous tickle attack, Matthew wouldn’t budge and stuck with the answer that there was no one on his radar.
When it started to near dinnertime, both of the boys went into the kitchen to decide what to eat. Dominic stood in the pantry, staring at boxes of noodles and canned goods, while Matthew sat in a barstool leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“How does mac ‘n’ cheese sound?” Dominic shouted, his tone slightly distressed, and muttered to himself, “I really dunno what I’m hungry for.”
“Macaroni sounds good.” Matthew smiled wryly at his friend’s expression, the blonde huffing as he grabbed a box out off of the shelf and turned to find a pan. When Dominic found one, he filled it up with water and covered it with its lid before setting it on the stove. He then walked the short distance from the kitchen to the table where had left his teacup and returned to rinse it out and refill it with water. Matthew watched him with a blank stare before tilting his head to the side. “I touched myself yesterday.”
Dominic sputtered, the water he was just about to swallow spraying out with a surprised and high-pitched, “huh?” Matthew giggled nervously and glanced down at the countertop where he started to trace the marble patterns he found there. “Wai- Did… Are you telling me you wanked?” To say Dominic was caught off guard was an understatement. While he wasn’t a prude and neither was Matthew, he had never expected his friend to outright say that without any sort of notice.
Matthew nodded slowly at the table. “That’s what I said.” He drew out the syllable of the first word matter-of-factly, and looked up at Dominic from underneath his eyelashes with a small smile on his face.
Dominic scratched the back of his head and bit his lip before he set his cup down on the counter next to him and leaned sideways against it. “…Was it the first time?”
“Yup.” Matthew replied nonchalantly, his lips making a popping sound on the P.
“Huh.” Dominic took a sip of water. “Cool.” Matthew made a small snort-like sound and Dominic grinned at him wickedly. “Who were you thinking about?”
The younger boy’s face froze, his eyes on the countertop and his cheeks flushing the same color as his t-shirt. “What?” His gaze flicked up to meet Dominic’s, a single eyebrow rising slightly.
“You heard me. You were you thinking of when you wanked?” Dominic felt evil asking, but in all honesty – and he couldn’t quite decide why – he was curious. He repressed a snicker at Matthew’s expression.
“But…why?” Matthew’s eyes were wide and he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Dominic wondered briefly why he was so nervous about him knowing.
“I dunno. Cos.” He shrugged. “I’ve had a continuing fantasy of one of my teachers for the last month. It’s quite nice. So who is it?”
Matthew’s eyes widened more, and Dominic noted briefly how blue they were. “That is…for me to know.”
“Aww c’mon, Bells. How bad is it? Do I know her? Or him, whoever.” Dominic smirked at that and winked at him.
Matthew coughed in surprise. “Nope. Not tellin’ you.” He shook his head adamantly, crossing his arms on the counter and leaning forward, his eyes going down to normal size.
“Even though I’m your bestest friend?” Dominic sidled closer to him with a teasing grin on his face. “And we talk about everything?” Matthew’s eyebrows lowered and he looked up at him from the corner of his eye, the tiniest smile curving the edges of his mouth.
“Sorry, mate. Not this time.”
Dominic gasped dramatically. “Oh, my heart! It’s broken! Only your answer can heal it, Matthew.” He clutched his chest with both hands and pretended to have a fake heart attack, complete with falling against the refrigerator and sliding down it till he was on his knees, choking sounds coming out of his mouth.
Matthew doubled over in his seat, his laugh high pitched and loud. “You…are so crazy…” He gasped out between breaths.
“P-Pl-Please Matthew! My heart!” Dominic continued to writhe on the floor at Matthew’s feet before he too burst into laughter.
A moment went by until Dominic stood up, a wide smile on his face. He ruffled Matthew’s hair before he turned to check the water, the other boy still giggling into his hand as he leaned against the counter. He was curious why Matthew was so nervous about who it’d been and why he didn’t want him know, but he paid it know mind, deciding he was simply embarrassed.