So Close Now - One
Author: fenora
Beta: The lovely millionstar as usual. Love you!
Pairing: You'll find out in time :p
Rating: R
Summary: Usualy, he doesn't go for singers.
Feedback: Anything, really!
Warnings: Hum... no belldom?
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the famous names mentioned here (unfortunately!)
Notes: This was something that came into my mind and I couldn't shake it out :P I hope it's not too over the top! I don't think it will turn into big series, probably just about 4 or 5 chapters. It's another attempt at comedy...
( Prologue )
ONE
I’ve always known that the most positive aspect of my relationship with Matthew was the impossibility of a boring routine coming into our lives. If only, I believe sometimes a bit of normalcy could actually do as some good. People usually wonder how we can keep with each other’s lives (and insanity) and how we don’t drive each other mad.
Well, the thing is, we kind of do. Even I don’t know how we work, and how we’ve managed to stay together over the years.
We kind of had our fair share of break ups only to get together again a few weeks or a few months later. Actually, the first few years we weren’t even official. Matthew was 26 when I met him and totally not ready to have a stable relationship. I didn’t intend to have one with him either, back then. The thing was, shagging him felt different and actually special in a way. I don’t think I can describe why or how but I started craving him more and more until I realised that I didn’t want to share him with other people anymore. That was about two years after that first night. Matthew on the other hand still needed more time. Patiently, I gave it to him, and that was how we evolved into what we are today.
Now we’re stable, kind of domestic in a way, older.
Me especially. It’s my 40 year old birthday today, but I don’t really want to think about it. I don’t feel like celebrat-
Wait.
Fucking wait!
Too late, I realize I’ve fallen into a trap. Earlier, Matthew asked me to pick him up at the studio around 7 PM because he had to leave his car at the mechanic and he’d only have it on the next day. However, as I park I see his car parked next to Dom’s. This paired with the fact that it’s my birthday today absolutely cannot turn out to be good.
However, because I can be a curious mother fucker, my legs move almost against my will and I enter the studio.
I can hear Matthew’s unmistakable laugh the moment I approach the recording area.
They’re not recording, for sure.
I don’t come here often actually. One thing we’ve kind of established, kind of wordlessly actually, when we started getting serious was that we would not interfere in each other’s work. There would be no tips or opinions when it came to recording. Performing was a different matter though. When it came to that, we liked to hear each other’s opinion and we kind of gave value to what we had to say. But when it comes to the creative process and the building up of an album, we don’t even talk about it.
That is why I give a shout as I approach, because this is not familiar territory for me and I don’t want to interrupt. There is one more wall separating me from the recording room they’re currently using but, hearing me, Matthew soon emerges, opening the wooden door, and smiles.
“Took you a while!”
“Your car is outside. What’s the fucking deal, Bellamy?”
“It is?” He tries to sound surprised.
“Next time you pretend to prank me, use your head.”
Scratching the back of his neck, he frowns, clearly disappointed that he was found in his silly attempt to surprise me.
“We were just going to perform a rather glamorous version of “Happy Birthday”. Nothing much.”
At that, because deep down I’m a stupid sentimentalist, truly, my heart swells and I find myself smiling fondly at him.
“Well, that I actually didn’t know...” I say taking a few steps in his direction. “Now you really fucked up. Completely.”
“Damn, I really suck at this!”
I chuckle and place my hands in each side of his neck, which automatically makes him look up at me from under his eyelashes.
Now I have to admit I love that look, and he knows it well. He knows that when he wants something, the best way to get it is to give me that look.
In fact, if I’m honest, Matthew has me wrapped around that long (fantastic) index finger of his. Sometimes literally.
“Yes, you actually do.” Leaning down, I peck his lips softly “Maybe we could go before they notice and I wouldn’t have to sit and hear people congratulating me for turning 40?” I try.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex!” To my despair he disentangles himself from me and turns to the door. “Sometimes your concern with age is absolutely annoying!”
“Says the man who didn’t sleep the day before his 30th birthday because he wanted to make the most of his last day as a twenty-nine year old!”
Matthew tenses at this as I follow him inside.
“Is that actually true?” Dominic asks from his spot on the couch, an amused look on his face. He’s clearly planning an array of future jokes, which I’m sure I’m going to enjoy. There’s something incredibly appealing about pissing off Matthew with silly things.
“Hello gorgeous, how’s business?” I ask well humouredly, secretly enjoying Matthew’s sulking. It’s my payback for the silly thing he organized.
“A mess. Drumming to ‘Happy Birthday’ is trickier than I initially thought.” He grimaces playfully.
“You’re hilarious, Dom, seriously!” Matthew snaps and I just chuckle and shake my head.
“I know that! It’s just one of my many qualities, just next to the fact that I can wear tight pink jeans and the ladies still drool for me.”
“We don’t need to know, Dom.”
“Oh yes, we do!” I protest. “But why wouldn’t they drool? Shit, I drool!”
“Alex!” Matthew interrupts, looking at me with indignant wide eyes.
“What? You know I like to perv over your drummer, it’s my favourite hobby.”
“I don’t care!” And that settles it and we let it be. For the time being, that is. “Where’s Chris by the way?”
“Right here,” says the bassist as he enters the room as well. “Hey there Alex, happy birthday!”
“Cheers.”
We all stay in silence for a few moments, I’m not really sure why. In the end though, all eyes fall on Matthew.
“What? Now there’s no point in going through with this. It was shit anyway so, let’s just go.”
I look at Dom and see that he’s fighting back his laughter. Well, when things get to this point, there’s not much else to do.
*
I get to my flat a little earlier than Matthew, well, it’s not really my flat, it’s his. He owns the London apartment, I own the Glasgow one. Though we both have our belongings in each and it’s like having two, which is quite nice.
Shrugging out of my coat I go to the kitchen to get an apple. I know it is my birthday and I should have some kind of get together, but I’m not really in the mood... I really, like really hope my precious lover doesn’t have anything else up his sleeve. I mean, anything that involves other people, I seriously hope he has some kind of celebration for us.
My mobile rings just as he enters the flat. It’s one of our roadies wishing me a happy birthday. I thank him politely and he cracks a few jokes about me turning 40 (he’s lucky that I’m a nice person otherwise I’d make his life hell during the next couple of gigs).
Matthew comes into the kitchen as I talk and fills a glass with his beloved red wine. “So?” I say casually as I end the call.
“So what?”
“So what do you have planned for tonight?”
“I thought you didn’t want a celebration, are you crazy now? Changing ideas all the time?”
Okay. Still sulking then. Perfect.
“I’m not. The last thing I want tonight is to go to some party or invite people over to celebrate my anniversary...”
“So, what do you want to do? You know you have to tell me old man, because we’re clearly from different generations.”
I squint at him after such a cheeky remark. “Oi! I clearly represent the maturity in this relationship, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean I’m old.”
“Yes, sure...”
“I’m still waiting to know what you have planned.”
“I had a ‘happy birthday’, that would put Marilyn’s to shame, if I may say so, planned for you, but you ruined it, so, I’m sorry but I didn’t have time to think about anything else.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Bellamy.”
“But you know what people say... It’s the last minute plans that usually turn out for the best...” He says, trying to sound seductive after taking a long sip of his wine.
“Prove it then...”
A couple of hours later, I’m in the kitchen again, cooking something quick for me and Matthew. As I was expecting, he fell asleep after I wore him out. Yes, it’s true. He may be six years younger than me but, even though he’ll never admit this, I still win in terms of sexual endurance.
What can I say, it’s a gift.
Lucky Matthew.
Unexpectedly, I feel skinny arms wrapping around my waist and a chaste kiss pressed to my shoulder blade.
“Up already?”
“What do you mean exactly?”
Cheeky.
“Up from the bed, I mean.”
He presses himself lazily against me and instinctively I lean into his touch, though I still keep myself busy fixing us a salad.
“I’m hungry. Please tell me there’s more than a salad.”
“I’ll warm up the chicken that was left from yesterday.”
“Hum-hum.” For a moment I believe he fell asleep like that until I hear him murmur something into my back.
“What was that?”
“I still have to give you your present.”
“We don’t give presents.”
“Well, says who? I wanted to so you just get it and shut up.”
With that, he lets go of me and pads away, and I just have to steal a glance of his still naked backside. His right butt cheek still has the mark of my teeth. Good.
He comes back quite quickly, holding a red paper bag with no sign at all. It could be anything, really. Reaching for the kitchen cloth on the counter, I clean my hands and sit down on a chair as Matthew passes me the bag and sits down himself.
Before opening, I turn it around and shake a bit trying to guess what’s inside. There’s no ribbon or anything so, Matthew probably put it in the bag himself, whatever it is.
“Oh come on, stop that and open the thing!”
Much to his despair, I take the staples one by one. Painfully slowly. Matthew sighs but says nothing. When it’s opened I peek inside and instantly smile. For the common guy it could look like a belt or something, but it’s a black guitar strap. I take it off and let the bag fall uninterestedly to the floor. It is a beautiful piece, something that I’m sure Matthew himself would love to use. It’s shining slightly, but not too much, and the lining is bright red. There’s no brand sign, which kind of makes it even more special and personal.
“I love it, Matthew.”
“Wait, look here,” he says grabbing the strap, and showing me the inner side, close to the holder.
A.K.
“My initials...”
“Yeah, I mean, I know you could have this easily if you wanted, you just needed to ask, so it’s not a big deal, but I thought it looked nice.”
“It looks perfect. I’ll definitely use this with my favourite guitar.”
His smile is genuine and just happy. He grabs the strap and puts it on the table as he climbs onto my lap, straddling me.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips before kissing him long and proper, my hands reaching back to cup his arse.
That is until his stomach starts to protest, stopping our fun.
“Huh... that’s totally a turn off, Bellamy.”
Beta: The lovely millionstar as usual. Love you!
Pairing: You'll find out in time :p
Rating: R
Summary: Usualy, he doesn't go for singers.
Feedback: Anything, really!
Warnings: Hum... no belldom?
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the famous names mentioned here (unfortunately!)
Notes: This was something that came into my mind and I couldn't shake it out :P I hope it's not too over the top! I don't think it will turn into big series, probably just about 4 or 5 chapters. It's another attempt at comedy...
( Prologue )
ONE
I’ve always known that the most positive aspect of my relationship with Matthew was the impossibility of a boring routine coming into our lives. If only, I believe sometimes a bit of normalcy could actually do as some good. People usually wonder how we can keep with each other’s lives (and insanity) and how we don’t drive each other mad.
Well, the thing is, we kind of do. Even I don’t know how we work, and how we’ve managed to stay together over the years.
We kind of had our fair share of break ups only to get together again a few weeks or a few months later. Actually, the first few years we weren’t even official. Matthew was 26 when I met him and totally not ready to have a stable relationship. I didn’t intend to have one with him either, back then. The thing was, shagging him felt different and actually special in a way. I don’t think I can describe why or how but I started craving him more and more until I realised that I didn’t want to share him with other people anymore. That was about two years after that first night. Matthew on the other hand still needed more time. Patiently, I gave it to him, and that was how we evolved into what we are today.
Now we’re stable, kind of domestic in a way, older.
Me especially. It’s my 40 year old birthday today, but I don’t really want to think about it. I don’t feel like celebrat-
Wait.
Fucking wait!
Too late, I realize I’ve fallen into a trap. Earlier, Matthew asked me to pick him up at the studio around 7 PM because he had to leave his car at the mechanic and he’d only have it on the next day. However, as I park I see his car parked next to Dom’s. This paired with the fact that it’s my birthday today absolutely cannot turn out to be good.
However, because I can be a curious mother fucker, my legs move almost against my will and I enter the studio.
I can hear Matthew’s unmistakable laugh the moment I approach the recording area.
They’re not recording, for sure.
I don’t come here often actually. One thing we’ve kind of established, kind of wordlessly actually, when we started getting serious was that we would not interfere in each other’s work. There would be no tips or opinions when it came to recording. Performing was a different matter though. When it came to that, we liked to hear each other’s opinion and we kind of gave value to what we had to say. But when it comes to the creative process and the building up of an album, we don’t even talk about it.
That is why I give a shout as I approach, because this is not familiar territory for me and I don’t want to interrupt. There is one more wall separating me from the recording room they’re currently using but, hearing me, Matthew soon emerges, opening the wooden door, and smiles.
“Took you a while!”
“Your car is outside. What’s the fucking deal, Bellamy?”
“It is?” He tries to sound surprised.
“Next time you pretend to prank me, use your head.”
Scratching the back of his neck, he frowns, clearly disappointed that he was found in his silly attempt to surprise me.
“We were just going to perform a rather glamorous version of “Happy Birthday”. Nothing much.”
At that, because deep down I’m a stupid sentimentalist, truly, my heart swells and I find myself smiling fondly at him.
“Well, that I actually didn’t know...” I say taking a few steps in his direction. “Now you really fucked up. Completely.”
“Damn, I really suck at this!”
I chuckle and place my hands in each side of his neck, which automatically makes him look up at me from under his eyelashes.
Now I have to admit I love that look, and he knows it well. He knows that when he wants something, the best way to get it is to give me that look.
In fact, if I’m honest, Matthew has me wrapped around that long (fantastic) index finger of his. Sometimes literally.
“Yes, you actually do.” Leaning down, I peck his lips softly “Maybe we could go before they notice and I wouldn’t have to sit and hear people congratulating me for turning 40?” I try.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex!” To my despair he disentangles himself from me and turns to the door. “Sometimes your concern with age is absolutely annoying!”
“Says the man who didn’t sleep the day before his 30th birthday because he wanted to make the most of his last day as a twenty-nine year old!”
Matthew tenses at this as I follow him inside.
“Is that actually true?” Dominic asks from his spot on the couch, an amused look on his face. He’s clearly planning an array of future jokes, which I’m sure I’m going to enjoy. There’s something incredibly appealing about pissing off Matthew with silly things.
“Hello gorgeous, how’s business?” I ask well humouredly, secretly enjoying Matthew’s sulking. It’s my payback for the silly thing he organized.
“A mess. Drumming to ‘Happy Birthday’ is trickier than I initially thought.” He grimaces playfully.
“You’re hilarious, Dom, seriously!” Matthew snaps and I just chuckle and shake my head.
“I know that! It’s just one of my many qualities, just next to the fact that I can wear tight pink jeans and the ladies still drool for me.”
“We don’t need to know, Dom.”
“Oh yes, we do!” I protest. “But why wouldn’t they drool? Shit, I drool!”
“Alex!” Matthew interrupts, looking at me with indignant wide eyes.
“What? You know I like to perv over your drummer, it’s my favourite hobby.”
“I don’t care!” And that settles it and we let it be. For the time being, that is. “Where’s Chris by the way?”
“Right here,” says the bassist as he enters the room as well. “Hey there Alex, happy birthday!”
“Cheers.”
We all stay in silence for a few moments, I’m not really sure why. In the end though, all eyes fall on Matthew.
“What? Now there’s no point in going through with this. It was shit anyway so, let’s just go.”
I look at Dom and see that he’s fighting back his laughter. Well, when things get to this point, there’s not much else to do.
*
I get to my flat a little earlier than Matthew, well, it’s not really my flat, it’s his. He owns the London apartment, I own the Glasgow one. Though we both have our belongings in each and it’s like having two, which is quite nice.
Shrugging out of my coat I go to the kitchen to get an apple. I know it is my birthday and I should have some kind of get together, but I’m not really in the mood... I really, like really hope my precious lover doesn’t have anything else up his sleeve. I mean, anything that involves other people, I seriously hope he has some kind of celebration for us.
My mobile rings just as he enters the flat. It’s one of our roadies wishing me a happy birthday. I thank him politely and he cracks a few jokes about me turning 40 (he’s lucky that I’m a nice person otherwise I’d make his life hell during the next couple of gigs).
Matthew comes into the kitchen as I talk and fills a glass with his beloved red wine. “So?” I say casually as I end the call.
“So what?”
“So what do you have planned for tonight?”
“I thought you didn’t want a celebration, are you crazy now? Changing ideas all the time?”
Okay. Still sulking then. Perfect.
“I’m not. The last thing I want tonight is to go to some party or invite people over to celebrate my anniversary...”
“So, what do you want to do? You know you have to tell me old man, because we’re clearly from different generations.”
I squint at him after such a cheeky remark. “Oi! I clearly represent the maturity in this relationship, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean I’m old.”
“Yes, sure...”
“I’m still waiting to know what you have planned.”
“I had a ‘happy birthday’, that would put Marilyn’s to shame, if I may say so, planned for you, but you ruined it, so, I’m sorry but I didn’t have time to think about anything else.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Bellamy.”
“But you know what people say... It’s the last minute plans that usually turn out for the best...” He says, trying to sound seductive after taking a long sip of his wine.
“Prove it then...”
A couple of hours later, I’m in the kitchen again, cooking something quick for me and Matthew. As I was expecting, he fell asleep after I wore him out. Yes, it’s true. He may be six years younger than me but, even though he’ll never admit this, I still win in terms of sexual endurance.
What can I say, it’s a gift.
Lucky Matthew.
Unexpectedly, I feel skinny arms wrapping around my waist and a chaste kiss pressed to my shoulder blade.
“Up already?”
“What do you mean exactly?”
Cheeky.
“Up from the bed, I mean.”
He presses himself lazily against me and instinctively I lean into his touch, though I still keep myself busy fixing us a salad.
“I’m hungry. Please tell me there’s more than a salad.”
“I’ll warm up the chicken that was left from yesterday.”
“Hum-hum.” For a moment I believe he fell asleep like that until I hear him murmur something into my back.
“What was that?”
“I still have to give you your present.”
“We don’t give presents.”
“Well, says who? I wanted to so you just get it and shut up.”
With that, he lets go of me and pads away, and I just have to steal a glance of his still naked backside. His right butt cheek still has the mark of my teeth. Good.
He comes back quite quickly, holding a red paper bag with no sign at all. It could be anything, really. Reaching for the kitchen cloth on the counter, I clean my hands and sit down on a chair as Matthew passes me the bag and sits down himself.
Before opening, I turn it around and shake a bit trying to guess what’s inside. There’s no ribbon or anything so, Matthew probably put it in the bag himself, whatever it is.
“Oh come on, stop that and open the thing!”
Much to his despair, I take the staples one by one. Painfully slowly. Matthew sighs but says nothing. When it’s opened I peek inside and instantly smile. For the common guy it could look like a belt or something, but it’s a black guitar strap. I take it off and let the bag fall uninterestedly to the floor. It is a beautiful piece, something that I’m sure Matthew himself would love to use. It’s shining slightly, but not too much, and the lining is bright red. There’s no brand sign, which kind of makes it even more special and personal.
“I love it, Matthew.”
“Wait, look here,” he says grabbing the strap, and showing me the inner side, close to the holder.
A.K.
“My initials...”
“Yeah, I mean, I know you could have this easily if you wanted, you just needed to ask, so it’s not a big deal, but I thought it looked nice.”
“It looks perfect. I’ll definitely use this with my favourite guitar.”
His smile is genuine and just happy. He grabs the strap and puts it on the table as he climbs onto my lap, straddling me.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips before kissing him long and proper, my hands reaching back to cup his arse.
That is until his stomach starts to protest, stopping our fun.
“Huh... that’s totally a turn off, Bellamy.”