sunshine_173 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sunshine_173) wrote2010-10-27 01:00 am
sunshine_173) wrote2010-10-27 01:00 am
Entry tags:
Infinity: Chapter 1/??
Title: Infinity
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sunshine_173
Rating: PG
Pairing: BellDom/Original character(s)
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: Is completely welcome. It makes me all sorts of happy. Feel free to critique, but be nice, yeah ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Matt or Dom. If I did, unspeakable acts would be committed.
Warning: Nothing really going on here.
Note: EPIC love and thank you's and just plain smothering tolalalive23 andflavoroftea for being awesome bit readers and betas and cheerleaders and just fucking AMAZING. I luff you both. If it wasn't for y'all, this wouldn't exist. Also, thank you to everyone who commented on the prologue. Each comment is like a little bundle of love and joy and win. ♥♥
Prologue
17 December, 1992
“Dominic, love, hurry up! We told your grandmother we’d be there in a few moments. You know how impatient she gets.” A middle-aged dark blonde woman opened the door to the hotel room and stuck her head in, impatiently tapping her foot at her young son.
Whispering quietly to himself, he turned the volume of his walkman up higher. “She’s too old to remember we’re even coming.”
“Excuse me?” His mother arched a knowing eyebrow at him.
“Er, sorry mum. Was just commenting on the weather.” His beet-red face didn’t fool her, but she let him off with a shake of the head.
“Well, hurry Dommie, your father is getting restless.” She turned, heels clicking on the faux wooden floors.
He made a face at the nickname, muttering that he was too old for it. He slipped down off his bed, grabbing his coat and pulling it over a brown jumper and wrapping a scarf several times around his neck.
He heard his mother call his name once more, and he scrambled to the door, not wanting to upset her further.
Stepping outside of the building, an icy gust of wind hit him like a battering ram, his eyes tearing up at the impact. He sniffled, dipping his head down and walking quickly to the car parked a few feet from him, the ends of his scarf flying back. He grabbed his beanie out of his pocket and tugged it on, pulling it down over his head and he sped up his pace, his father staring at him through the windshield with a bored expression on his face.
He reached the car door, practically wrenching it open and having to slam it shut from the force of the wind.
“Finally.” His father’s tone made Dominic’s mother frown, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. Pulling out of the parking lot, they turned onto the road and headed for the coast where Dominic’s grandparent’s lived.
About twenty minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway of his grandparent’s house. The wind has lessened, but in its wake, large flakes of snow came down like white rain. His father pushed open his door, battling with the hood of his coat as he ran to knock on the door. Dominic watched the door open, his grandmother smiling when she saw his father. She turned for a moment and returned with a heavy coat and her husband, trudging through the snow back to the car.
“Dominic, love! Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown so much.” She slid into the backseat, pressed practically against him in the small car.
“I’ve missed you too, Nana.” He smiled at her, reciprocating her attempt at a side hug. He nodded at his grandfather, sitting back further into the corner as he listened to Rage, trying to block out the sound of his grandmother chatting about local gossip with his mum.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and quirked his eyebrows at the scenery, wondering why they were so close to the Den. He leaned up some, pulling off his headphones and asking his grandmother where they were going.
“Did you not know, Dommie?” He suppressed a grimace. “I thought your mother would’ve told you. We’re stopping by my dear friend Marilyn’s home. She used to babysit your father when he was your age.”
Dominic sighed, dreading an evening of boring nostalgia and catching up.
“Wake up, love.” A voice in Dominic’s ear told him, nudging him gently in the arm. He jumped slightly, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his hand. He sat up, looking out the window and seeing white everywhere. Wrapping his scarf tighter around him, he braced himself as he opened the door, but the onslaught of cold he was expecting was not half as bad as he thought.
He turned around, catching sight of his parents stepping through a door, and hurried towards the promised warmth.
Stepping through the threshold, he was immediately greeted by an elderly woman with white, whispy hair and pale blue eyes that crinkled when she smiled. She reached out for his hand, grasping it softly before letting it go. “You must be the young Dominic I hear Elizabeth speak of so much.”
It took him a moment to realize she was referring to his grandmother, and he nodded. “Yes ma’am, that’s me.” He smiled shyly back at her, reaching up to pull off his beanie.
“Well aren’t you a doll. I’m Marilyn Bellamy. Come on in here, son, I just made some tea.” She led him into a small living room where his parents and grandparents had already made themselves at home. He stood awkwardly next to his mother at the couch as Mrs. Bellamy walked slowly into the adjoining kitchen.
As he watched her pour still steaming tea into a small white and blue China cup, he heard soft, dark piano notes sound out. He glanced at his mother who sighed softly and smiled, closing her eyes. He looked back up, his confused face causing Mrs. Bellamy to laugh quietly.
“That would be Matthew. He’s my grandson, and has been staying here during Winter Break.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “He should be around your age, I believe. He’s in there if you’d like to meet him.” She gestured to the hallways behind him, and the look on her face made him feel like the idea of him meeting Matthew would mean the world to her. He smiled at her when she handed him his cup of tea, and he turned and silently walked down the hallway, following the music as it started to pick up, the contrast between the constant low and high notes echoing around him. Soon it felt as if everything but finding the source of these sudden beautiful sounds dimmed into insignificance.
At the end of the hall, he noticed a shadow moving swiftly back and forth in the space between the doorframe and open door. He quickened his pace, his steps subconsciously falling into beat with the music, and soon he was at the threshold, peering in.
A fragile looking boy sat at a piano bench, narrow shoulders swaying as his hands traversed the keys of a gleaming black upright piano. Long and slender fingers fluttered on a certain note, and flew back down the other side, starting a hauntingly beautiful crescendo. Dominic stood, transfixed, watching this black haired boy move so gracefully, the sounds he created unrealistic. Softer, the notes slowed down, a sad quality about them, and Dominic felt as if he was intruding on something terribly private.
A sudden coughing attack caused him to stop playing; his body shaking as he nearly tumbled off the piano bench. Dominic felt himself subconsciously moving forward, and before he knew it was standing a mere four or five feet away, asking if he was alright.
The sudden voice shocked Matthew. He jumped off the piano bench and spun around. “W-what?”
Dominic froze when their eyes met, the vividness and pure blue of his eyes shocking him, the shade seeming rare in the midst of milky white porcelain skin and the shock of black hair. “I’m…I’m Dominic. My grandmum is friends with yours.”
Matthew’s eyes were still wide in surprise, but he grinned slightly and looked down, blushing. “Hi.” He darted forward suddenly, his hand shooting out to grab hold of Dominic’s, shaking it twice before letting go. “I’m Matt.”
Dominic couldn’t look away from his eyes. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’s what Mar-Mrs. Bellamy said.”
Matthew grinned. “Did she?”
“Uhm, yeah.”
“Right.”
“….Right.” Dominic fidgeted, shifting his weight to his left foot and grasping the handle of his teacup tightly. “So you uh, play the piano?”
Matthew giggled at his attempt at conversation. “Yes, I have for the last five years.”
Dominic balked. “Five years? How old are you?”
Matthew’s posture straightened and his demeanor became defensive. “Ten. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no! No, no, no. Just...wow, since you were five? Did your mum force you to take lessons or something?” Blimey, he must be a protégé.
Dominic noticed Matthew’s eyes flash at the mention of his mum, and it seemed as if his voice had hardened some. “No, not at all. I got into piano of my own accord, and my gran has helped me learn. She used to play, but not anymore. Has arthritis, you see.”
“Ah. That piece you just played, what’s it called? I’ve never heard it before. My mum plays a lot of classical when she cleans, so I’m surprised.”
Again, his eyes flashed, but only for a moment. I wonder what his problem is. “Rachmaninov’s Elegy in E flat minor, opus three, number one. I just learned it a few days ago. Rachmaninov might be my favorite composer of all time. He’s absolutely brilliant.”
“You must really love classical stuff.”
He nodded quickly; a smile lighting up his face and making his dimples stand out. He sneezed suddenly, rubbing his nose which had taken on a rather bright red hue, and shivered. “Bloody love it.”
“I heard that, Matthew!”
Dominic snorted at Matthew’s gran’s shout, Matthew’s cheeks tinting before he shrugged. “Dunno why she tries to stop me. My brother’s a bad enough influence.”
“How old is your brother?”
“Seventeen.”
“I’ve always wanted a brother or sister, but my mum said I was already too much.”
“It’s nothing special. He’s a bit of a wanker.” He whispered the last word, conspiratorially winking before glancing at the door and back at Dominic.
Dominic giggled some. “You seem a lot older than ten.”
“My gran always tells me that. Says something about an old soul. Dunno what she’s on about.”
“I’ve no idea.”
“So do you play any instruments? Wait, how old are you?” Matthew’s eyebrows furrowed when he realized he didn’t know his age, and he stepped back, blindly sitting down at the piano bench and stared at Dominic, waiting for his answers.
“Uhm, I don’t play. I tried drumming once but it became too violent and somehow I blacked out.” A high-pitched laugh shocked the blonde, his eyes wide till he realized the loud cackle came from Matthew.
“How on earth did you black out?” He continued to giggle, coughing every once and awhile. “Actually, nevermind that. Go on, I interrupted.” He apologized, still smiling widely, his front tooth sticking further out than the others.
Dominic grinned at the silly smile. “I draw. And paint. My mum is a painter and taught me the basics a few years ago, and I sorta picked it up on my own. She just recently introduced me to something called ‘abstract expressionism.’ It’s actually really cool. And I just turned twelve last week.”
“Oh, happy birthday, mate!” Mate. Matthew swirled around on the piano bench, cracking his knuckles. Dominic watched in amazement as he started to play the Happy Birthday Song. He started giggling when Matthew bounced at the force of his playing, and smiled broadly when he finished it with a flourish of fluttering fingers.
Matthew slid off the piano bench, a smile on his face, and started coughing again. “Are you alright?”
“Nah, just allergies. Or a cold. I hate this weather. It always makes me sick.” He sneezed as if on cue.
“I know what you mean. I don’t like the extremes, like winter or summer.”
“Autumn is my favorite season.”
Dominic’s small smile widened. “Same here. It’s like the perfect mix of hot and cold.”
“And it’s beautiful.” He had a wistful countenance about him, and his eyes flicked away from Dominic’s.
“Dominic, dear, we need to leave. Nana’s not feeling well. Say goodbye to Matthew.” Dominic jumped slightly, following Matthew’s line of vision to see his mother poking her head in. She stared at him, waiting.
“Oh. Uhm. Okay.” He turned awkwardly, waving quickly and smiling at Matthew.
“It was nice to meet you, Dominic.”
“Oh! You can call me Dom. That’s what the blokes back in London call me. So, you can call me that. If you don’t mind. I mean, you don’t have to, so whatev-”
“Bye Dom.” Matthew said, restraining laughter.
He smiled. Again. “Bye Matt.”
Matthew returned his wave, following him out as Dominic’s mother rushed him to the door.
Dominic said goodbye and thanked Mrs. Bellamy, once again wrapping himself in his coat and scarf. He slowed his steps to the front door, letting his grandparent’s and mother pass him, his father already starting the car.
“Well, bye again.” Dominic stood on the porch, shivering when he felt the wind. He turned, waving once more.
Matthew was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an enigmatic smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Dominic! Hurry!”
“Yeah. Definitely.” Sending one more smile over his shoulder, he walked quickly to the car, slipping inside and staring down at his hands, unable to keep the massive grin off his face.
“So I take it you like Matthew? He seems like a quiet one.” His mother asked, casting a curious glance at him.
“Oh, yeah. He’s really cool. Been playing the piano for five years.”
“Wow. You’ll have to invite him to play on that grand at the hotel before we leave. I’d love to hear him.” His mum yawned, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
He smiled to himself again. I can’t wait.
Author:
sunshine_173 Rating: PG
Pairing: BellDom/Original character(s)
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: Is completely welcome. It makes me all sorts of happy. Feel free to critique, but be nice, yeah ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Matt or Dom. If I did, unspeakable acts would be committed.
Warning: Nothing really going on here.
Note: EPIC love and thank you's and just plain smothering to
lalalive23 andflavoroftea for being awesome bit readers and betas and cheerleaders and just fucking AMAZING. I luff you both. If it wasn't for y'all, this wouldn't exist. Also, thank you to everyone who commented on the prologue. Each comment is like a little bundle of love and joy and win. ♥♥Prologue
17 December, 1992
“Dominic, love, hurry up! We told your grandmother we’d be there in a few moments. You know how impatient she gets.” A middle-aged dark blonde woman opened the door to the hotel room and stuck her head in, impatiently tapping her foot at her young son.
Whispering quietly to himself, he turned the volume of his walkman up higher. “She’s too old to remember we’re even coming.”
“Excuse me?” His mother arched a knowing eyebrow at him.
“Er, sorry mum. Was just commenting on the weather.” His beet-red face didn’t fool her, but she let him off with a shake of the head.
“Well, hurry Dommie, your father is getting restless.” She turned, heels clicking on the faux wooden floors.
He made a face at the nickname, muttering that he was too old for it. He slipped down off his bed, grabbing his coat and pulling it over a brown jumper and wrapping a scarf several times around his neck.
He heard his mother call his name once more, and he scrambled to the door, not wanting to upset her further.
Stepping outside of the building, an icy gust of wind hit him like a battering ram, his eyes tearing up at the impact. He sniffled, dipping his head down and walking quickly to the car parked a few feet from him, the ends of his scarf flying back. He grabbed his beanie out of his pocket and tugged it on, pulling it down over his head and he sped up his pace, his father staring at him through the windshield with a bored expression on his face.
He reached the car door, practically wrenching it open and having to slam it shut from the force of the wind.
“Finally.” His father’s tone made Dominic’s mother frown, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. Pulling out of the parking lot, they turned onto the road and headed for the coast where Dominic’s grandparent’s lived.
About twenty minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway of his grandparent’s house. The wind has lessened, but in its wake, large flakes of snow came down like white rain. His father pushed open his door, battling with the hood of his coat as he ran to knock on the door. Dominic watched the door open, his grandmother smiling when she saw his father. She turned for a moment and returned with a heavy coat and her husband, trudging through the snow back to the car.
“Dominic, love! Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown so much.” She slid into the backseat, pressed practically against him in the small car.
“I’ve missed you too, Nana.” He smiled at her, reciprocating her attempt at a side hug. He nodded at his grandfather, sitting back further into the corner as he listened to Rage, trying to block out the sound of his grandmother chatting about local gossip with his mum.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and quirked his eyebrows at the scenery, wondering why they were so close to the Den. He leaned up some, pulling off his headphones and asking his grandmother where they were going.
“Did you not know, Dommie?” He suppressed a grimace. “I thought your mother would’ve told you. We’re stopping by my dear friend Marilyn’s home. She used to babysit your father when he was your age.”
Dominic sighed, dreading an evening of boring nostalgia and catching up.
“Wake up, love.” A voice in Dominic’s ear told him, nudging him gently in the arm. He jumped slightly, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his hand. He sat up, looking out the window and seeing white everywhere. Wrapping his scarf tighter around him, he braced himself as he opened the door, but the onslaught of cold he was expecting was not half as bad as he thought.
He turned around, catching sight of his parents stepping through a door, and hurried towards the promised warmth.
Stepping through the threshold, he was immediately greeted by an elderly woman with white, whispy hair and pale blue eyes that crinkled when she smiled. She reached out for his hand, grasping it softly before letting it go. “You must be the young Dominic I hear Elizabeth speak of so much.”
It took him a moment to realize she was referring to his grandmother, and he nodded. “Yes ma’am, that’s me.” He smiled shyly back at her, reaching up to pull off his beanie.
“Well aren’t you a doll. I’m Marilyn Bellamy. Come on in here, son, I just made some tea.” She led him into a small living room where his parents and grandparents had already made themselves at home. He stood awkwardly next to his mother at the couch as Mrs. Bellamy walked slowly into the adjoining kitchen.
As he watched her pour still steaming tea into a small white and blue China cup, he heard soft, dark piano notes sound out. He glanced at his mother who sighed softly and smiled, closing her eyes. He looked back up, his confused face causing Mrs. Bellamy to laugh quietly.
“That would be Matthew. He’s my grandson, and has been staying here during Winter Break.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “He should be around your age, I believe. He’s in there if you’d like to meet him.” She gestured to the hallways behind him, and the look on her face made him feel like the idea of him meeting Matthew would mean the world to her. He smiled at her when she handed him his cup of tea, and he turned and silently walked down the hallway, following the music as it started to pick up, the contrast between the constant low and high notes echoing around him. Soon it felt as if everything but finding the source of these sudden beautiful sounds dimmed into insignificance.
At the end of the hall, he noticed a shadow moving swiftly back and forth in the space between the doorframe and open door. He quickened his pace, his steps subconsciously falling into beat with the music, and soon he was at the threshold, peering in.
A fragile looking boy sat at a piano bench, narrow shoulders swaying as his hands traversed the keys of a gleaming black upright piano. Long and slender fingers fluttered on a certain note, and flew back down the other side, starting a hauntingly beautiful crescendo. Dominic stood, transfixed, watching this black haired boy move so gracefully, the sounds he created unrealistic. Softer, the notes slowed down, a sad quality about them, and Dominic felt as if he was intruding on something terribly private.
A sudden coughing attack caused him to stop playing; his body shaking as he nearly tumbled off the piano bench. Dominic felt himself subconsciously moving forward, and before he knew it was standing a mere four or five feet away, asking if he was alright.
The sudden voice shocked Matthew. He jumped off the piano bench and spun around. “W-what?”
Dominic froze when their eyes met, the vividness and pure blue of his eyes shocking him, the shade seeming rare in the midst of milky white porcelain skin and the shock of black hair. “I’m…I’m Dominic. My grandmum is friends with yours.”
Matthew’s eyes were still wide in surprise, but he grinned slightly and looked down, blushing. “Hi.” He darted forward suddenly, his hand shooting out to grab hold of Dominic’s, shaking it twice before letting go. “I’m Matt.”
Dominic couldn’t look away from his eyes. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’s what Mar-Mrs. Bellamy said.”
Matthew grinned. “Did she?”
“Uhm, yeah.”
“Right.”
“….Right.” Dominic fidgeted, shifting his weight to his left foot and grasping the handle of his teacup tightly. “So you uh, play the piano?”
Matthew giggled at his attempt at conversation. “Yes, I have for the last five years.”
Dominic balked. “Five years? How old are you?”
Matthew’s posture straightened and his demeanor became defensive. “Ten. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no! No, no, no. Just...wow, since you were five? Did your mum force you to take lessons or something?” Blimey, he must be a protégé.
Dominic noticed Matthew’s eyes flash at the mention of his mum, and it seemed as if his voice had hardened some. “No, not at all. I got into piano of my own accord, and my gran has helped me learn. She used to play, but not anymore. Has arthritis, you see.”
“Ah. That piece you just played, what’s it called? I’ve never heard it before. My mum plays a lot of classical when she cleans, so I’m surprised.”
Again, his eyes flashed, but only for a moment. I wonder what his problem is. “Rachmaninov’s Elegy in E flat minor, opus three, number one. I just learned it a few days ago. Rachmaninov might be my favorite composer of all time. He’s absolutely brilliant.”
“You must really love classical stuff.”
He nodded quickly; a smile lighting up his face and making his dimples stand out. He sneezed suddenly, rubbing his nose which had taken on a rather bright red hue, and shivered. “Bloody love it.”
“I heard that, Matthew!”
Dominic snorted at Matthew’s gran’s shout, Matthew’s cheeks tinting before he shrugged. “Dunno why she tries to stop me. My brother’s a bad enough influence.”
“How old is your brother?”
“Seventeen.”
“I’ve always wanted a brother or sister, but my mum said I was already too much.”
“It’s nothing special. He’s a bit of a wanker.” He whispered the last word, conspiratorially winking before glancing at the door and back at Dominic.
Dominic giggled some. “You seem a lot older than ten.”
“My gran always tells me that. Says something about an old soul. Dunno what she’s on about.”
“I’ve no idea.”
“So do you play any instruments? Wait, how old are you?” Matthew’s eyebrows furrowed when he realized he didn’t know his age, and he stepped back, blindly sitting down at the piano bench and stared at Dominic, waiting for his answers.
“Uhm, I don’t play. I tried drumming once but it became too violent and somehow I blacked out.” A high-pitched laugh shocked the blonde, his eyes wide till he realized the loud cackle came from Matthew.
“How on earth did you black out?” He continued to giggle, coughing every once and awhile. “Actually, nevermind that. Go on, I interrupted.” He apologized, still smiling widely, his front tooth sticking further out than the others.
Dominic grinned at the silly smile. “I draw. And paint. My mum is a painter and taught me the basics a few years ago, and I sorta picked it up on my own. She just recently introduced me to something called ‘abstract expressionism.’ It’s actually really cool. And I just turned twelve last week.”
“Oh, happy birthday, mate!” Mate. Matthew swirled around on the piano bench, cracking his knuckles. Dominic watched in amazement as he started to play the Happy Birthday Song. He started giggling when Matthew bounced at the force of his playing, and smiled broadly when he finished it with a flourish of fluttering fingers.
Matthew slid off the piano bench, a smile on his face, and started coughing again. “Are you alright?”
“Nah, just allergies. Or a cold. I hate this weather. It always makes me sick.” He sneezed as if on cue.
“I know what you mean. I don’t like the extremes, like winter or summer.”
“Autumn is my favorite season.”
Dominic’s small smile widened. “Same here. It’s like the perfect mix of hot and cold.”
“And it’s beautiful.” He had a wistful countenance about him, and his eyes flicked away from Dominic’s.
“Dominic, dear, we need to leave. Nana’s not feeling well. Say goodbye to Matthew.” Dominic jumped slightly, following Matthew’s line of vision to see his mother poking her head in. She stared at him, waiting.
“Oh. Uhm. Okay.” He turned awkwardly, waving quickly and smiling at Matthew.
“It was nice to meet you, Dominic.”
“Oh! You can call me Dom. That’s what the blokes back in London call me. So, you can call me that. If you don’t mind. I mean, you don’t have to, so whatev-”
“Bye Dom.” Matthew said, restraining laughter.
He smiled. Again. “Bye Matt.”
Matthew returned his wave, following him out as Dominic’s mother rushed him to the door.
Dominic said goodbye and thanked Mrs. Bellamy, once again wrapping himself in his coat and scarf. He slowed his steps to the front door, letting his grandparent’s and mother pass him, his father already starting the car.
“Well, bye again.” Dominic stood on the porch, shivering when he felt the wind. He turned, waving once more.
Matthew was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an enigmatic smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Dominic! Hurry!”
“Yeah. Definitely.” Sending one more smile over his shoulder, he walked quickly to the car, slipping inside and staring down at his hands, unable to keep the massive grin off his face.
“So I take it you like Matthew? He seems like a quiet one.” His mother asked, casting a curious glance at him.
“Oh, yeah. He’s really cool. Been playing the piano for five years.”
“Wow. You’ll have to invite him to play on that grand at the hotel before we leave. I’d love to hear him.” His mum yawned, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
He smiled to himself again. I can’t wait.