Fic: Space They Cannot Touch
Title: Chapter Thirteen: Service Fee
Pairing: Matthew/Dominic
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Morning brings melancholy and a big mistake.
Disclaimer: I do not own Muse. The events within are entirely fictional.
Betas: The dynamic duo millionstar and dolce_piccante . You both are made of beauty and win.
Warnings: Angst, language.
Previous Parts: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight , Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve
You broke down my door and you let yourself in
Helped yourself to my soul and skin
Ate all you needed then had the nerve to
Thank me for dinner and help yourself to dessert
You freely helped yourself
You know I could have charged you a service fee
For all that you did to me
I should have charged you a service fee
For all that you did to me
Freely helped yourself
It wasn’t very pretty, it wasn’t very kind
I’d rather go deaf, paralysed and blind
But I lay back, held still by the fear
That you would smash me to pieces and that I’d die here
I don’t wanna die here, no
Service Fee - The Waifs
It is well before dawn when Matt wakes, missing the warmth of Dom’s body beside him too much to sleep comfortably. The memory of just why Dom is not there brings with it a sharp stab of regret. He rolls over and groans loudly into his pillow.
Another day, another apology to make. Seems like all he does these days is apologise.
And maybe Dom has every right to be angry with him, but that doesn’t mean that he is the only one to blame. Dom is the one who refused to listen, who kept pushing even after Matt made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t comfortable with the situation.
Matt hates lying in bed alone, so he pulls on a shirt and makes his way to the kitchen, half hoping to find Dom there waiting for him and half fearing it.
As unpleasant as their argument was, Matt can’t help but feel a little proud of his decision. In the past he has jumped into the physical side of his relationships without worrying when, or even if, his heart will catch up. This time, his heart is way out in front and it is everything else that is lagging behind. And he’s scared. Absolutely fucking terrified that he isn’t going to live up to Dom’s expectations. When it comes to being a good boyfriend they are both about as hopeless as each other, but sex is a different matter entirely. Dom speaks freely of his experience, his fantasies, and his expertise. He has made no secret of just how important sex is to him, and his occasional comments about the inadequacies of some of his partners have been nothing short of scathing. Matt likes sex as much as the next guy, but he’s never actually stopped to consider whether he’s truly any good at it. Sure, he’s never had any complaints, but what if his past girlfriends were just too polite to mention it? Or what if they were rubbish too and simply didn’t realize that the sex wasn’t good?
Dom isn’t waiting for him, which is a relief given the direction Matt’s thoughts are taking. He switches on the kettle, taking great comfort from the fact that he is only five minutes away from his first cup of tea of the day. He doesn’t think of himself as typically English in many aspects, but his fondness for tea is definitely one of them.
The problem, he reasons, is that despite all prior evidence to the contrary, Dom is actually a romantic at heart. He seems convinced that as long as he and Matt love each other everything is going to be okay. But how can that be true when the Dominic Matt fell in love with is a stranger to the Dominic he knows today?
It’s not that he doesn’t love the new Dom. He does. Perhaps more than he ever loved the old one. He loves his strength, his determination, and his capacity to forgive. But he misses the casual confidence and easy charm with which Dom used to carry himself. He hates himself for missing it, but miss it he does. He misses the lust for life that sparkled in grey eyes, and that near-constant smile that melted the heart of every person it landed on. He misses the Dom who knew who he was and was fiercely proud of it, and the Dom who didn’t get his self-esteem from sex. He feels selfish for even thinking it, but he sometimes wonders whether Dom ever thinks about how hard it is for Matt, Chris and Tom to see their friend so altered. How hard it was for Matt to see Dom looking so desperate for him when he’s so used to seeing Dom as the one in control. If he were a different kind of man he’d have gotten off on it, but he’s not, and if the truth were told it made him nauseous and uncomfortable.
The only thing that stops him from feeling guilty about wanting the old Dom back is that he’s pretty sure that deep down inside Dom wants exactly the same thing. And that’s something Matt cannot help him with. Dom has to find it for himself, by accepting what happened and moving on. The doctors say they’re pleased with his recovery so far, but they can’t guarantee that he will fully regain his hearing. If Dom can’t separate his self worth from ability to hear…well, Matt doesn’t even want to think about the consequences.
The disruption to his usual morning routine has left Matt feeling agitated and claustrophobic. The more he thinks, the more hopeless the situation becomes, and the less he trusts himself not to make everything worse when Dom finally shows himself. He needs to get out for a while. Needs some time to clear his head or he’ll end up saying something he regrets.
He drains the last of his tea and leaves the mug in the sink. A quick change of clothes and then he’s out the door, slipping into the cool morning air without a backward glance.
*
Dom wakes a good deal later than Matt, after a sleep so fitful it barely qualifies as sleep at all. His head is pounding, and whilst getting up to retrieve some painkillers would undoubtedly bring relief, it’s more than he feels capable of right now. He’d much rather stay in bed, staring at Matt’s empty, unused pillow and marveling at the ability of two people who claim to love each other to so thoroughly and regularly wound each other.
The thing that hurts Dom most of all is the shame. He hasn’t felt ashamed in years. He wears underwear over stockings on stage and talks about porn on Italian TV shows, for fuck’s sake. He is unembarrassable. And yet the memory of baring himself before Matt only to be refused makes his skin turn an ugly shade of red. Matt can’t possibly know how much that hurt. He can be a bastard sometimes, but he’s not cruel. He must have had a reason for doing what he did. Dom truly believes that, even if he doesn’t understand right now. It is the only thing that stopped him from telling Matt to fuck off and never come back.
Dom has grown used to people praising the transformative powers of love. Hell, he’s seen love transform some of his closest friends. Mostly the change has been for the better, calming down guys whose partying tendencies could occasionally get out of hand, or giving self-confidence to girls who never saw themselves as anything special. But what if love makes you worse? What if love makes you look in the mirror and despise what you see?
The old Dom would have never backed down the way he did last night. He would have found the right words, the right touch, to break down Matt’s defenses. Sex is not something he has any illusions about. He’s good at it - he’s had enough practice after all - and he knows exactly how to make someone else feel good. He would have made Matt feel so good. Instead, he just lay there, waiting for Matt and very nearly begging him when Matt didn’t move. That’s something, at least. He hasn’t been reduced to begging. Yet.
But he would. He would beg for Matt if he thought it would make a difference. On his knees and everything. He hates the way Matt can make him feel so unlike himself. He craves the kind of connection that only sex can bring. He wants Matt leaning over him, pressing him into the mattress as their bare skin slides together. He wants that slight burn as their bodies join for the first time, wants to run his nails down Matt’s back and pull him deeper in. He wants so much, but he’s starting to think that it’s more than Matt is willing to give.
It’s not supposed to work like that. He doesn’t do shame, or desperation, or rejection. He is in always control. The knowledge that he would so easily give in to Matt both fascinates and terrifies him. It can’t be healthy, surely, for one person to have such power over another. Relationships are supposed to be about equals. Right now, Dom doesn’t feel very equal. He feels like a dog, following his master around awaiting any display of affection he might be lucky enough to receive.
Or not, as the case may be.
He has grown tired of looking at the space where Matt should be, so he rolls over to face the window, and the first shafts of morning light. There’s only so much longer he can lie in bed before hunger and the need to relieve himself will become unignorable, so he closes his eyes and soaks up the last few moments of peace.
They have to talk about what happened, and the sooner they do it, the better. With that in mind, Dom climbs determinedly out of bed and makes for the bathroom. A hot shower always makes him feel better, and by the time he is dressed and heading to the kitchen he feels almost optimistic about their ability to work things out. They are both reasonably intelligent people who care about each other. There has to be a solution to this. There just has to be.
The kitchen is empty, which is odd given that Matt has always been the early riser. Dom spots the cup in the sink and assumes that Matt has gone back to bed. He flicks the kettle on and grabs a clean mug, glancing down at the hall every now and then for any sign of Matt. As unpleasant as their conversation is likely to be, it is necessary, and he’d rather get it over and done with as soon as possible.
Two hours later he is still sat at the kitchen table.
*
“She just gets me, you know,” Tom remarks, blushing slightly.
Chris laughs, delighted to see his friend so happy. They’ve all been so stressed lately; it’s good to have something to smile about for a change.
“So it’s serious then?” he asks, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee.
“Yeah,” Tom replies. “I think so.”
“That’s great,” Chris says. “I’m really happy for you.”
Tom beams at him.
Where is he?
The phone buzzes in his pocket and Chris whips it out, staring at the message in confusion.
Who?
Matt. Where is the little prick?
“I think we might have a problem,” he mutters, showing the message to Tom.
These days, the concept of Matt being anywhere other than at Dom’s side seems positively alien. Tom reaches for his phone. Chris guesses he’s checking for messages from Matt so he holds off before replying. Tom shakes his head.
No idea. He’s not at the flat?
No he fucking isn’t. Why would I be texting you if he were here? I’m deaf but I’m not a fucking retard.
Chris frowns. Dom is clearly in a bad mood, and if Matt is missing then it probably means that they’ve had another falling out.
When did you last see him?
Last night. We had a row.
“Not another one,” Tom groans as he reads the message on Chris’ phone.
“What do we do?” Chris asks.
“Stay out of it,” Tom advises. “Or, at least as far out of it as we possibly can.”
I haven’t seen him all morning.
Chris can’t help but feel sorry for Dom, sitting alone in his apartment and wondering where Matt could be. Couldn’t he have at least left a note?
Sorry mate. Neither have I.
There’s a long break before the next message arrives.
Can you take me to my doctor’s appointment this afternoon? I know it’s short notice but I don’t know who else to call.
Chris doesn’t think twice before replying.
Of course. I’ll come round straight away.
So much for not getting involved.
*
The further Matt walks, the calmer he becomes. He’s never been a great believer in the healing powers of nature, but there’s something in the crispness of the air that seems to sharpen his mind, bringing with it a sense of calm that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The solution had been right in front of him the whole time. He’d just been too caught up in the drama to see it.
If he can’t be a good boyfriend to Dom, he’s just going to have to settle for being a good friend instead.
Pairing: Matthew/Dominic
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Morning brings melancholy and a big mistake.
Disclaimer: I do not own Muse. The events within are entirely fictional.
Betas: The dynamic duo millionstar and dolce_piccante . You both are made of beauty and win.
Warnings: Angst, language.
Previous Parts: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight , Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve
You broke down my door and you let yourself in
Helped yourself to my soul and skin
Ate all you needed then had the nerve to
Thank me for dinner and help yourself to dessert
You freely helped yourself
You know I could have charged you a service fee
For all that you did to me
I should have charged you a service fee
For all that you did to me
Freely helped yourself
It wasn’t very pretty, it wasn’t very kind
I’d rather go deaf, paralysed and blind
But I lay back, held still by the fear
That you would smash me to pieces and that I’d die here
I don’t wanna die here, no
Service Fee - The Waifs
It is well before dawn when Matt wakes, missing the warmth of Dom’s body beside him too much to sleep comfortably. The memory of just why Dom is not there brings with it a sharp stab of regret. He rolls over and groans loudly into his pillow.
Another day, another apology to make. Seems like all he does these days is apologise.
And maybe Dom has every right to be angry with him, but that doesn’t mean that he is the only one to blame. Dom is the one who refused to listen, who kept pushing even after Matt made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t comfortable with the situation.
Matt hates lying in bed alone, so he pulls on a shirt and makes his way to the kitchen, half hoping to find Dom there waiting for him and half fearing it.
As unpleasant as their argument was, Matt can’t help but feel a little proud of his decision. In the past he has jumped into the physical side of his relationships without worrying when, or even if, his heart will catch up. This time, his heart is way out in front and it is everything else that is lagging behind. And he’s scared. Absolutely fucking terrified that he isn’t going to live up to Dom’s expectations. When it comes to being a good boyfriend they are both about as hopeless as each other, but sex is a different matter entirely. Dom speaks freely of his experience, his fantasies, and his expertise. He has made no secret of just how important sex is to him, and his occasional comments about the inadequacies of some of his partners have been nothing short of scathing. Matt likes sex as much as the next guy, but he’s never actually stopped to consider whether he’s truly any good at it. Sure, he’s never had any complaints, but what if his past girlfriends were just too polite to mention it? Or what if they were rubbish too and simply didn’t realize that the sex wasn’t good?
Dom isn’t waiting for him, which is a relief given the direction Matt’s thoughts are taking. He switches on the kettle, taking great comfort from the fact that he is only five minutes away from his first cup of tea of the day. He doesn’t think of himself as typically English in many aspects, but his fondness for tea is definitely one of them.
The problem, he reasons, is that despite all prior evidence to the contrary, Dom is actually a romantic at heart. He seems convinced that as long as he and Matt love each other everything is going to be okay. But how can that be true when the Dominic Matt fell in love with is a stranger to the Dominic he knows today?
It’s not that he doesn’t love the new Dom. He does. Perhaps more than he ever loved the old one. He loves his strength, his determination, and his capacity to forgive. But he misses the casual confidence and easy charm with which Dom used to carry himself. He hates himself for missing it, but miss it he does. He misses the lust for life that sparkled in grey eyes, and that near-constant smile that melted the heart of every person it landed on. He misses the Dom who knew who he was and was fiercely proud of it, and the Dom who didn’t get his self-esteem from sex. He feels selfish for even thinking it, but he sometimes wonders whether Dom ever thinks about how hard it is for Matt, Chris and Tom to see their friend so altered. How hard it was for Matt to see Dom looking so desperate for him when he’s so used to seeing Dom as the one in control. If he were a different kind of man he’d have gotten off on it, but he’s not, and if the truth were told it made him nauseous and uncomfortable.
The only thing that stops him from feeling guilty about wanting the old Dom back is that he’s pretty sure that deep down inside Dom wants exactly the same thing. And that’s something Matt cannot help him with. Dom has to find it for himself, by accepting what happened and moving on. The doctors say they’re pleased with his recovery so far, but they can’t guarantee that he will fully regain his hearing. If Dom can’t separate his self worth from ability to hear…well, Matt doesn’t even want to think about the consequences.
The disruption to his usual morning routine has left Matt feeling agitated and claustrophobic. The more he thinks, the more hopeless the situation becomes, and the less he trusts himself not to make everything worse when Dom finally shows himself. He needs to get out for a while. Needs some time to clear his head or he’ll end up saying something he regrets.
He drains the last of his tea and leaves the mug in the sink. A quick change of clothes and then he’s out the door, slipping into the cool morning air without a backward glance.
*
Dom wakes a good deal later than Matt, after a sleep so fitful it barely qualifies as sleep at all. His head is pounding, and whilst getting up to retrieve some painkillers would undoubtedly bring relief, it’s more than he feels capable of right now. He’d much rather stay in bed, staring at Matt’s empty, unused pillow and marveling at the ability of two people who claim to love each other to so thoroughly and regularly wound each other.
The thing that hurts Dom most of all is the shame. He hasn’t felt ashamed in years. He wears underwear over stockings on stage and talks about porn on Italian TV shows, for fuck’s sake. He is unembarrassable. And yet the memory of baring himself before Matt only to be refused makes his skin turn an ugly shade of red. Matt can’t possibly know how much that hurt. He can be a bastard sometimes, but he’s not cruel. He must have had a reason for doing what he did. Dom truly believes that, even if he doesn’t understand right now. It is the only thing that stopped him from telling Matt to fuck off and never come back.
Dom has grown used to people praising the transformative powers of love. Hell, he’s seen love transform some of his closest friends. Mostly the change has been for the better, calming down guys whose partying tendencies could occasionally get out of hand, or giving self-confidence to girls who never saw themselves as anything special. But what if love makes you worse? What if love makes you look in the mirror and despise what you see?
The old Dom would have never backed down the way he did last night. He would have found the right words, the right touch, to break down Matt’s defenses. Sex is not something he has any illusions about. He’s good at it - he’s had enough practice after all - and he knows exactly how to make someone else feel good. He would have made Matt feel so good. Instead, he just lay there, waiting for Matt and very nearly begging him when Matt didn’t move. That’s something, at least. He hasn’t been reduced to begging. Yet.
But he would. He would beg for Matt if he thought it would make a difference. On his knees and everything. He hates the way Matt can make him feel so unlike himself. He craves the kind of connection that only sex can bring. He wants Matt leaning over him, pressing him into the mattress as their bare skin slides together. He wants that slight burn as their bodies join for the first time, wants to run his nails down Matt’s back and pull him deeper in. He wants so much, but he’s starting to think that it’s more than Matt is willing to give.
It’s not supposed to work like that. He doesn’t do shame, or desperation, or rejection. He is in always control. The knowledge that he would so easily give in to Matt both fascinates and terrifies him. It can’t be healthy, surely, for one person to have such power over another. Relationships are supposed to be about equals. Right now, Dom doesn’t feel very equal. He feels like a dog, following his master around awaiting any display of affection he might be lucky enough to receive.
Or not, as the case may be.
He has grown tired of looking at the space where Matt should be, so he rolls over to face the window, and the first shafts of morning light. There’s only so much longer he can lie in bed before hunger and the need to relieve himself will become unignorable, so he closes his eyes and soaks up the last few moments of peace.
They have to talk about what happened, and the sooner they do it, the better. With that in mind, Dom climbs determinedly out of bed and makes for the bathroom. A hot shower always makes him feel better, and by the time he is dressed and heading to the kitchen he feels almost optimistic about their ability to work things out. They are both reasonably intelligent people who care about each other. There has to be a solution to this. There just has to be.
The kitchen is empty, which is odd given that Matt has always been the early riser. Dom spots the cup in the sink and assumes that Matt has gone back to bed. He flicks the kettle on and grabs a clean mug, glancing down at the hall every now and then for any sign of Matt. As unpleasant as their conversation is likely to be, it is necessary, and he’d rather get it over and done with as soon as possible.
Two hours later he is still sat at the kitchen table.
*
“She just gets me, you know,” Tom remarks, blushing slightly.
Chris laughs, delighted to see his friend so happy. They’ve all been so stressed lately; it’s good to have something to smile about for a change.
“So it’s serious then?” he asks, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee.
“Yeah,” Tom replies. “I think so.”
“That’s great,” Chris says. “I’m really happy for you.”
Tom beams at him.
Where is he?
The phone buzzes in his pocket and Chris whips it out, staring at the message in confusion.
Who?
Matt. Where is the little prick?
“I think we might have a problem,” he mutters, showing the message to Tom.
These days, the concept of Matt being anywhere other than at Dom’s side seems positively alien. Tom reaches for his phone. Chris guesses he’s checking for messages from Matt so he holds off before replying. Tom shakes his head.
No idea. He’s not at the flat?
No he fucking isn’t. Why would I be texting you if he were here? I’m deaf but I’m not a fucking retard.
Chris frowns. Dom is clearly in a bad mood, and if Matt is missing then it probably means that they’ve had another falling out.
When did you last see him?
Last night. We had a row.
“Not another one,” Tom groans as he reads the message on Chris’ phone.
“What do we do?” Chris asks.
“Stay out of it,” Tom advises. “Or, at least as far out of it as we possibly can.”
I haven’t seen him all morning.
Chris can’t help but feel sorry for Dom, sitting alone in his apartment and wondering where Matt could be. Couldn’t he have at least left a note?
Sorry mate. Neither have I.
There’s a long break before the next message arrives.
Can you take me to my doctor’s appointment this afternoon? I know it’s short notice but I don’t know who else to call.
Chris doesn’t think twice before replying.
Of course. I’ll come round straight away.
So much for not getting involved.
*
The further Matt walks, the calmer he becomes. He’s never been a great believer in the healing powers of nature, but there’s something in the crispness of the air that seems to sharpen his mind, bringing with it a sense of calm that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The solution had been right in front of him the whole time. He’d just been too caught up in the drama to see it.
If he can’t be a good boyfriend to Dom, he’s just going to have to settle for being a good friend instead.