Dance in the Dark, Chapter Four
Title: Dance in the Dark, Chapter Four
Rating: NC-17 overall, this part not so much.
Note: Please note the rating and acknowledge that you are accepting full responsibility for reading this. You have been warned.
Pairing: Bellamy/Howard
Summary: Matthew Bellamy is a baker who's dragged on a blind date to a dance class where he meets Dominic Howard, the dance instructor.
Word Count: 2469 +/-
Disclaimer: I do not own any persons, places, themes, or elements in this; nor am I affiliated with the persons represented. Only the story is mine. No harm was intended by this.
Thanks to the ladies who looked this bit over for me. millionstar, dolce_piccante, and my boo shayunknown . This would be utter crap without your time and patience. Thank you so much.
Previous Chapters: One Two Three
Dominic was shaking a bit, the movements having gone on for far too long and the sweat running off of his lean body in rivulets. But he wouldn’t let himself stop, though his muscles screamed for rest and his feet cramped from over expenditure.
Cabriole. Cambre. Fouette. I kissed him.
“Shit.” Dom whispered as his foot slipped and he lost his balance. It wasn’t the first time that morning thoughts of Matthew Bellamy fucked up his normal routine. In fact, during the week since he’d last seen the baker, the entire pattern of his life had been thrown off kilter.
He could barely sleep at night, when plaguing thoughts of nimble fingers against his skin would crash over him, bringing with them a riptide of desire that Dominic couldn’t begin to understand or escape. When he did sleep, it was to dream of thin, red lips brushing over his own, or moving to whisper thickly into his ear... Inevitably, Dominic would jolt awake - throbbing with need, yet thoroughly perplexed.
His only source of true relief was during the day, when classes and chattering students would fill his idle thoughts and distract him. But, no sooner than the door closed on the heels of the last departing pupil and he was left with only the empty studio as his company, he would be tugged into the current of Bellamy-centered musings that he fought so desperately to keep at bay.
I’ve got to stop this.
Bending over to grab hold of his kneecaps, he closed his eyes and counted backward from ten, focusing on the sound of his breath.
It was bad enough that the little baker had drifted unbidden into his dreams, but now he had followed the dancer into his waking thoughts, and Dominic couldn’t seem to shake the spell he’d fallen under. It seemed as though even the most mundane of details would send him spiralling into daydreams about the baker, the most recent and random being while he brushed his teeth that morning.
He found himself wondering what kind of toothpaste Matthew fancied, and whether he liked to use swift strokes or wide circles as he brushed. Groaning at his asinine train of thought, he shook his head to clear it and leaned down to spit into the sink before sliding his own toothbrush into its holder.
The night before, he’d been watching a movie with Lacey when his thoughts had wandered down the well-trodden path that led to Matthew Bellamy. He’d wondered if Matt liked to laugh at movies as he did, though Lacey demanded utter silence and so he’d learned to reign in that part of himself. He caught himself curious as to whether the baker would want to be held during a horror flick, or if he was the one who did the comforting.
Dominic, despite himself, had quite enjoyed the idea of soothing the brunet after a particularly tense scene of some crap horror film they would watch together.
When the credits had begun to roll and he finally snapped out his reverie, it was to find Lacey eying him suspiciously, her mouth twisted down into a frown.
“What?” he’d asked, only to be met with silence and a shrug, her features smoothing into indifference.
In truth, though Matthew Bellamy was certainly occupying most of the dancer’s thoughts, it had been a long time since Lacey had been the focal point of his concerns. Actually, if he were to be completely honest, Dom wasn’t really sure if she’d ever been.
Theirs was more a union of convenience than anything else.
Sure, the sex was alright and they had a lot in common, but Dominic had never intended for their relationship to have lasted for so long. But, truth be told, he was fairly positive that were it not for the dance studio, one or both of them would have called it off long ago.
Having been friends since primary school, it seemed only natural when Lacey bought the studio to offer Dominic partial ownership. When their friendship morphed into something a little less friendly and a little more romantic, it had felt only logical to Dominic that he sit back and allow it to happen.
Now, as he stood and walked to the stretch bar where he’d hung a towel earlier, he wondered if it was worth the charade anymore. Picking up the cloth and wiping his face with it, he couldn’t stifle a grin as the little baker’s words echoed in his brain once more.
Sally the stretch bar.
Forcing himself to gage his reaction in the mirror, he found that he was all flushed cheeks and sweat soaked hair, and black, fiery eyes. Frustration and a warped, misplaced sense of gratification squeezed inside his chest. Fuck.
He shook his head, beginning to wonder if maybe it wasn’t that he truly had feelings for the baker - the problem was that he was making such a big deal out of his unexpected fascination with another man. The fact remained that if he were to ask himself and answer truthfully, he wasn’t opposed to same sex relationships. Throughout his years at university and as a dance instructor, most of the men he’d encountered were with other men - or at least open to the idea of being with one.
And though Dominic was hardly closed minded, he had never indulged himself in that type of lifestyle. He simply hadn’t ever been attracted to a man.
But I’ve never felt this way about a woman, either.
All at once it seemed to weigh on him - to strike his conscience with the intensity of a lightning bolt. So many different scenarios were bubbling up to the surface, demanding to be examined and defined. Recollections that called to question the way he looked at women, the way he interacted with men, and the casualty with which he entered into relationships that were anything but emotional.
He loved women, it was true. He loved the softness of their lips, and the silken scent of their hair; he loved the way that a nice pair of tits would rise and fall while strong legs propelled a lithe body forward - oh yes, he loved women.
As for having ever been in love with a woman... Well, Dominic had always just assumed that he hadn’t found the right one.
Yet here he was, battling emotions he’d never experienced before and all because of one tiny, aggravatingly beautiful man. Sighing heavily, Dom walked toward his office, tossing the towel over his shoulder as he went.
It didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t want these feelings and he certainly didn’t know how to handle them now that he had them.
Dominic walked through the door to his office, mentally ticking off the ways he’d tried to dodge his increasing obsession with Matthew Bellamy as he made his way across the room and sat in the chair behind his desk.
He’d avoided touching the other man as much as was possible, left as soon as he could gather his wits after their kiss, and every time he caught himself thinking about the little brunet, he immediately searched for something to occupy his attention.
But no matter which detour he took, his destination was always the same.
Suddenly, a different sort of thought struck him, an epiphany nudging him closer to the proverbial crossroads. It seemed to him that he fought most what he told himself he couldn’t have, and in this case he was screaming at himself that he could never, ever have the man who’d waltzed into his life on clumsy feet, turning everything he’d ever known upside-fucking-down.
He began to wonder if maybe he would find that it was really nothing at all if he simply let it go and allowed himself to let what would happen happen, rather than telling himself that he could not, must not have feelings for Matthew.
It was this thought that he carried home with him, planting it into the recesses of his mind to take root and blossom in preparation for his dance class with the baker later that evening.
* * * * *
Unfortunately for Dominic, only ten minutes after his arrival, it became apparent that Matthew Bellamy had been having his own issues during their separation. Actually, the man seemed so lost in his thoughts that the blond wondered why he even bothered to show up to their lesson.
He appeared to barely register any instructions Dom gave him, and often swayed instead of danced. After one mumbled apology, Matt merely bounced from foot to foot in what looked more like an attempt to hold in his pee than actual waltzing. Dominic had no idea what to make of the baker’s behavior.
It wasn’t as though Dom had expected the other man to walk through the front door and immediately catapult himself into the dance instructor’s now open arms - Dominic wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted himself. In reality, as he’d walked into the studio to set up for their lesson earlier, he’d resolved to try and approach this like an adult as opposed to a young man who’d just discovered his own dick. He felt sure that he could handle this with maturity and self control. There would be no mauling in the place of teaching, and no impromptu snogging sessions.
By the time he’d reached the studio, Dominic felt quite smug, so certain was he of his newfound immunity to the other man’s wiles.
If I can just manage to keep my hands off of him, I’ll be fine. Yeah. No touching. I can’t seem to keep myself in check when he touches me.
The only scenario he hadn’t mapped out and plotted for was one that involved Matt’s odd behaviour.
The sound of Matt clearing his throat jarred Dominic back into the present. He looked up to see that Matt had ceased his elephant-like swaying and was now scratching the tufts of black at the back of his neck, his cheeks splotchy with embarrassment.
He looked so impossibly sweet that Dominic’s mouth went dry. Shaking his head, the instructor took a step back, as if the more distance put between them the less desirable the baker would become.
Blue eyes met his, and he forced himself to look away. He turned his back to the other man, muttering something about taking a break and then picking up where they’d left off.
“Dominic?” the voice was much closer than he had anticipated, surprise tapping the first fissure into his flimsy wall of restraint. A fraction of a spin and he was face to face with the baker, the oxygen in the studio seeming to evaporate and and leave only stifling heat in its place.
“Yeah?” His chest was heaving and he gulped audibly, praying that the slighter man in front of him would step away, just please step the fuck away so he could gather his wits instead of staring at those thin lips, thinking about how he had kissed them, had moaned against them and dreamed of them as they...
“Have I upset you?”
“No,” the dancer breathed, acutely feeling the rest of his resolve crumble away, the same as it always seemed to do whenever he was around the other man. His stomach burned, churning with need though he desperately wanted to pretend otherwise.
The little brunet nodded, stepping back and letting his eyes drop to the floor. “I erm,” Matt swallowed while his cheeks flushed again and his eyebrows knit together in seeming frustration. “I don’t think I can do this tonight, Dominic. I’m really sorry to have wasted your time.”
“Something the matter?” Dom asked, hating the stupidity of the question - of course something was the matter. Still, he couldn’t staunch the sudden concern he felt as he watched the other man floundering for an explanation.
Or maybe I simply want him to stay, to see what will happen...
“Just... some things at work happened and my mate and I fought and...” his voice trailed off as he finally locked eyes with Dominic, his own widening infinitesimally in response, and his mouth curling into a tight circle of surprise.
Dom said nothing. It was quite surreal how he seemed to be viewing himself from somewhere over head as he stepped toward the other man, his hand wrapping around the softness of his neck as if it were the most natural action he’d ever taken.
Their lips crashed together, desperation making what should have been a tender action rough. In his fervor, Dominic pressed the little baker up against the mirror, ignoring his grunt of discomfort when his bum forcefully knocked against the balance bar.
Fingers clutched at his back, but he was insatiable, his lips hungry for a taste of only what Matt could quell. He gripped the smaller man’s arse, picking him up and waiting for him to wrap his legs around his waist before sucking his tongue into his own mouth.
Fire. That was the only sensation he could feel when the brunet gripped the sides of his face, tilting his head to better wrap his tongue around Dominic’s. Roaring heat when the baker broke their kiss to nibble on Dom’s full, lower lip - biting and pulling gently at it - causing the blond whimper helplessly. Finally, Matt pulled away from his lips to focus his attention elsewhere and Dominic groaned, the sound bringing the buzzing in his ears to a near feverish pitch.
Tiny, searing kisses were placed along his jawline while trembling fingers grasped at whatever they could find until Dominic could stand it no longer.
“Office,” he heard himself whisper against Matt’s lips, barely noting the answering mumble of assent. He could only register the scorch of his skin wherever those long, porcelain fingers touched him, could only feel the stinging of loss wherever those lips left him, and the boiling of his blood that fueled him as he stumbled into his office and backed the baker on towards desk.
Papers were tossed between nips and kisses, and Dominic struggled to ignore the way his stomach clenched when Matt parted his legs, allowing him to settle in between them. He dug his fingers into the fabric of Matt’s shirt, pulling him closer for another wet kiss.
Matt rolled his hips, brushing an impressive bulge against Dom’s front and ripping a gasp from the dancer. Loosening his hold on the baker’s shirt, Dominic wound his fingers into the thicket of Matt’s hair, moaning when the other man used the opportunity to grip the dancer’s backside in his palm.
“Dom?”
Both men froze, eyes wide and lips swollen. Slowly, Dominic swiveled his head to look over his shoulder at his girlfriend, who stood in the door, slack jawed. “Dom, what the fuck?”
Rating: NC-17 overall, this part not so much.
Note: Please note the rating and acknowledge that you are accepting full responsibility for reading this. You have been warned.
Pairing: Bellamy/Howard
Summary: Matthew Bellamy is a baker who's dragged on a blind date to a dance class where he meets Dominic Howard, the dance instructor.
Word Count: 2469 +/-
Disclaimer: I do not own any persons, places, themes, or elements in this; nor am I affiliated with the persons represented. Only the story is mine. No harm was intended by this.
Thanks to the ladies who looked this bit over for me. millionstar, dolce_piccante, and my boo shayunknown . This would be utter crap without your time and patience. Thank you so much.
Previous Chapters: One Two Three
Dominic was shaking a bit, the movements having gone on for far too long and the sweat running off of his lean body in rivulets. But he wouldn’t let himself stop, though his muscles screamed for rest and his feet cramped from over expenditure.
Cabriole. Cambre. Fouette. I kissed him.
“Shit.” Dom whispered as his foot slipped and he lost his balance. It wasn’t the first time that morning thoughts of Matthew Bellamy fucked up his normal routine. In fact, during the week since he’d last seen the baker, the entire pattern of his life had been thrown off kilter.
He could barely sleep at night, when plaguing thoughts of nimble fingers against his skin would crash over him, bringing with them a riptide of desire that Dominic couldn’t begin to understand or escape. When he did sleep, it was to dream of thin, red lips brushing over his own, or moving to whisper thickly into his ear... Inevitably, Dominic would jolt awake - throbbing with need, yet thoroughly perplexed.
His only source of true relief was during the day, when classes and chattering students would fill his idle thoughts and distract him. But, no sooner than the door closed on the heels of the last departing pupil and he was left with only the empty studio as his company, he would be tugged into the current of Bellamy-centered musings that he fought so desperately to keep at bay.
I’ve got to stop this.
Bending over to grab hold of his kneecaps, he closed his eyes and counted backward from ten, focusing on the sound of his breath.
It was bad enough that the little baker had drifted unbidden into his dreams, but now he had followed the dancer into his waking thoughts, and Dominic couldn’t seem to shake the spell he’d fallen under. It seemed as though even the most mundane of details would send him spiralling into daydreams about the baker, the most recent and random being while he brushed his teeth that morning.
He found himself wondering what kind of toothpaste Matthew fancied, and whether he liked to use swift strokes or wide circles as he brushed. Groaning at his asinine train of thought, he shook his head to clear it and leaned down to spit into the sink before sliding his own toothbrush into its holder.
The night before, he’d been watching a movie with Lacey when his thoughts had wandered down the well-trodden path that led to Matthew Bellamy. He’d wondered if Matt liked to laugh at movies as he did, though Lacey demanded utter silence and so he’d learned to reign in that part of himself. He caught himself curious as to whether the baker would want to be held during a horror flick, or if he was the one who did the comforting.
Dominic, despite himself, had quite enjoyed the idea of soothing the brunet after a particularly tense scene of some crap horror film they would watch together.
When the credits had begun to roll and he finally snapped out his reverie, it was to find Lacey eying him suspiciously, her mouth twisted down into a frown.
“What?” he’d asked, only to be met with silence and a shrug, her features smoothing into indifference.
In truth, though Matthew Bellamy was certainly occupying most of the dancer’s thoughts, it had been a long time since Lacey had been the focal point of his concerns. Actually, if he were to be completely honest, Dom wasn’t really sure if she’d ever been.
Theirs was more a union of convenience than anything else.
Sure, the sex was alright and they had a lot in common, but Dominic had never intended for their relationship to have lasted for so long. But, truth be told, he was fairly positive that were it not for the dance studio, one or both of them would have called it off long ago.
Having been friends since primary school, it seemed only natural when Lacey bought the studio to offer Dominic partial ownership. When their friendship morphed into something a little less friendly and a little more romantic, it had felt only logical to Dominic that he sit back and allow it to happen.
Now, as he stood and walked to the stretch bar where he’d hung a towel earlier, he wondered if it was worth the charade anymore. Picking up the cloth and wiping his face with it, he couldn’t stifle a grin as the little baker’s words echoed in his brain once more.
Sally the stretch bar.
Forcing himself to gage his reaction in the mirror, he found that he was all flushed cheeks and sweat soaked hair, and black, fiery eyes. Frustration and a warped, misplaced sense of gratification squeezed inside his chest. Fuck.
He shook his head, beginning to wonder if maybe it wasn’t that he truly had feelings for the baker - the problem was that he was making such a big deal out of his unexpected fascination with another man. The fact remained that if he were to ask himself and answer truthfully, he wasn’t opposed to same sex relationships. Throughout his years at university and as a dance instructor, most of the men he’d encountered were with other men - or at least open to the idea of being with one.
And though Dominic was hardly closed minded, he had never indulged himself in that type of lifestyle. He simply hadn’t ever been attracted to a man.
But I’ve never felt this way about a woman, either.
All at once it seemed to weigh on him - to strike his conscience with the intensity of a lightning bolt. So many different scenarios were bubbling up to the surface, demanding to be examined and defined. Recollections that called to question the way he looked at women, the way he interacted with men, and the casualty with which he entered into relationships that were anything but emotional.
He loved women, it was true. He loved the softness of their lips, and the silken scent of their hair; he loved the way that a nice pair of tits would rise and fall while strong legs propelled a lithe body forward - oh yes, he loved women.
As for having ever been in love with a woman... Well, Dominic had always just assumed that he hadn’t found the right one.
Yet here he was, battling emotions he’d never experienced before and all because of one tiny, aggravatingly beautiful man. Sighing heavily, Dom walked toward his office, tossing the towel over his shoulder as he went.
It didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t want these feelings and he certainly didn’t know how to handle them now that he had them.
Dominic walked through the door to his office, mentally ticking off the ways he’d tried to dodge his increasing obsession with Matthew Bellamy as he made his way across the room and sat in the chair behind his desk.
He’d avoided touching the other man as much as was possible, left as soon as he could gather his wits after their kiss, and every time he caught himself thinking about the little brunet, he immediately searched for something to occupy his attention.
But no matter which detour he took, his destination was always the same.
Suddenly, a different sort of thought struck him, an epiphany nudging him closer to the proverbial crossroads. It seemed to him that he fought most what he told himself he couldn’t have, and in this case he was screaming at himself that he could never, ever have the man who’d waltzed into his life on clumsy feet, turning everything he’d ever known upside-fucking-down.
He began to wonder if maybe he would find that it was really nothing at all if he simply let it go and allowed himself to let what would happen happen, rather than telling himself that he could not, must not have feelings for Matthew.
It was this thought that he carried home with him, planting it into the recesses of his mind to take root and blossom in preparation for his dance class with the baker later that evening.
* * * * *
Unfortunately for Dominic, only ten minutes after his arrival, it became apparent that Matthew Bellamy had been having his own issues during their separation. Actually, the man seemed so lost in his thoughts that the blond wondered why he even bothered to show up to their lesson.
He appeared to barely register any instructions Dom gave him, and often swayed instead of danced. After one mumbled apology, Matt merely bounced from foot to foot in what looked more like an attempt to hold in his pee than actual waltzing. Dominic had no idea what to make of the baker’s behavior.
It wasn’t as though Dom had expected the other man to walk through the front door and immediately catapult himself into the dance instructor’s now open arms - Dominic wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted himself. In reality, as he’d walked into the studio to set up for their lesson earlier, he’d resolved to try and approach this like an adult as opposed to a young man who’d just discovered his own dick. He felt sure that he could handle this with maturity and self control. There would be no mauling in the place of teaching, and no impromptu snogging sessions.
By the time he’d reached the studio, Dominic felt quite smug, so certain was he of his newfound immunity to the other man’s wiles.
If I can just manage to keep my hands off of him, I’ll be fine. Yeah. No touching. I can’t seem to keep myself in check when he touches me.
The only scenario he hadn’t mapped out and plotted for was one that involved Matt’s odd behaviour.
The sound of Matt clearing his throat jarred Dominic back into the present. He looked up to see that Matt had ceased his elephant-like swaying and was now scratching the tufts of black at the back of his neck, his cheeks splotchy with embarrassment.
He looked so impossibly sweet that Dominic’s mouth went dry. Shaking his head, the instructor took a step back, as if the more distance put between them the less desirable the baker would become.
Blue eyes met his, and he forced himself to look away. He turned his back to the other man, muttering something about taking a break and then picking up where they’d left off.
“Dominic?” the voice was much closer than he had anticipated, surprise tapping the first fissure into his flimsy wall of restraint. A fraction of a spin and he was face to face with the baker, the oxygen in the studio seeming to evaporate and and leave only stifling heat in its place.
“Yeah?” His chest was heaving and he gulped audibly, praying that the slighter man in front of him would step away, just please step the fuck away so he could gather his wits instead of staring at those thin lips, thinking about how he had kissed them, had moaned against them and dreamed of them as they...
“Have I upset you?”
“No,” the dancer breathed, acutely feeling the rest of his resolve crumble away, the same as it always seemed to do whenever he was around the other man. His stomach burned, churning with need though he desperately wanted to pretend otherwise.
The little brunet nodded, stepping back and letting his eyes drop to the floor. “I erm,” Matt swallowed while his cheeks flushed again and his eyebrows knit together in seeming frustration. “I don’t think I can do this tonight, Dominic. I’m really sorry to have wasted your time.”
“Something the matter?” Dom asked, hating the stupidity of the question - of course something was the matter. Still, he couldn’t staunch the sudden concern he felt as he watched the other man floundering for an explanation.
Or maybe I simply want him to stay, to see what will happen...
“Just... some things at work happened and my mate and I fought and...” his voice trailed off as he finally locked eyes with Dominic, his own widening infinitesimally in response, and his mouth curling into a tight circle of surprise.
Dom said nothing. It was quite surreal how he seemed to be viewing himself from somewhere over head as he stepped toward the other man, his hand wrapping around the softness of his neck as if it were the most natural action he’d ever taken.
Their lips crashed together, desperation making what should have been a tender action rough. In his fervor, Dominic pressed the little baker up against the mirror, ignoring his grunt of discomfort when his bum forcefully knocked against the balance bar.
Fingers clutched at his back, but he was insatiable, his lips hungry for a taste of only what Matt could quell. He gripped the smaller man’s arse, picking him up and waiting for him to wrap his legs around his waist before sucking his tongue into his own mouth.
Fire. That was the only sensation he could feel when the brunet gripped the sides of his face, tilting his head to better wrap his tongue around Dominic’s. Roaring heat when the baker broke their kiss to nibble on Dom’s full, lower lip - biting and pulling gently at it - causing the blond whimper helplessly. Finally, Matt pulled away from his lips to focus his attention elsewhere and Dominic groaned, the sound bringing the buzzing in his ears to a near feverish pitch.
Tiny, searing kisses were placed along his jawline while trembling fingers grasped at whatever they could find until Dominic could stand it no longer.
“Office,” he heard himself whisper against Matt’s lips, barely noting the answering mumble of assent. He could only register the scorch of his skin wherever those long, porcelain fingers touched him, could only feel the stinging of loss wherever those lips left him, and the boiling of his blood that fueled him as he stumbled into his office and backed the baker on towards desk.
Papers were tossed between nips and kisses, and Dominic struggled to ignore the way his stomach clenched when Matt parted his legs, allowing him to settle in between them. He dug his fingers into the fabric of Matt’s shirt, pulling him closer for another wet kiss.
Matt rolled his hips, brushing an impressive bulge against Dom’s front and ripping a gasp from the dancer. Loosening his hold on the baker’s shirt, Dominic wound his fingers into the thicket of Matt’s hair, moaning when the other man used the opportunity to grip the dancer’s backside in his palm.
“Dom?”
Both men froze, eyes wide and lips swollen. Slowly, Dominic swiveled his head to look over his shoulder at his girlfriend, who stood in the door, slack jawed. “Dom, what the fuck?”