The Pleasure Principle (Twenty/?)
Title: The Pleasure Principle (Twenty/?)
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Feedback: Is lovely, if you're so inclined. :)
Archive: Links only.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no offense intended, this never happened, and no money is being made. 'Tis fiction, after all. Silver Star Studios and its inhabitants, however, are all mine. Eternal thanks to dolce_piccante, frolicandfall and myz_bee for their beta skills, feedback and general badass-ness. Remember: lalalive23 is the sex & captivemuse rocks my world on a daily basis. (Thank you, girl!) &hearts
Author's Note: This chapter is told from Dominic's POV.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen-a | Fourteen-b | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen
I'm enamored by the sight of my fingers in his hair. It's soft and gorgeous and I could literally sit here like this with him for hours and be content. The way he sighs happily when I lightly scratch his scalp is addicting, like so many other things about him.
"I should go," Matthew announces from my lap, glancing at his watch. "I'm due at filming in a couple
hours."
"Okay," I reply, even though it isn't okay at all and I don't want him to leave. We sit up together and he turns to me, smiling as he leans in for a kiss.
"Can I call you later?"
"I'd rather you call me Dominic or Dom, but, fuck, you can call me anything you want to." The joke is a pretty bad one and I wince internally; luckily Matthew giggles lightly. He looks at me again, thinking.
"Dom." He says the name as though he's trying it on for size. He furrows his brow in concentration for a moment, then winks as it passes. "Nah, I prefer Dominic I think."
Good, because I love hearing my full name on your lips.
"Let me get my things." He jumps up to retrieve his bag from my bathroom. Once he disappears Boots darts out from my bedroom, making a beeline for the couch. She stares at me expectantly, her tail wagging briskly, a signal for me to gather her into my arms.
"Be nice to him, girl. He's not gonna hurt you," I chide lightly, kissing the top of her head. With a petulant meow she buries her head against my shoulder.
The two of us are waiting for him by the door as he comes back.
"Who you working with today?" I try to make my question as casual as I can but I freely admit that I'm jealous at the thought of someone else touching him intimately, kissing him, making him come so gorgeously. Those are things that I want for myself so badly.
"Aaron, I think?"
"Ah. The Douchebag."
"The one and only. Hopefully he feels like playing nice today."
I don't like Aaron very much. Okay, I don't know him very well personally but the couple times I've worked with him myself he's been pretty rough with me. Naturally, the thought of Matthew being in that position worries me a little.
"I may see you there later on. I need to pick up my wages for the month," I blurt out. It can't hurt to check in, right?
His face lights up. "Okay! If you come down, find me."
"Thanks for last night, Matthew. And for talking to me this morning. I know that had to be hard to do."
He shakes his head. "Actually, it was nice to remember her, even for just a moment. See you later, then."
"You know it," I smile.
Matthew reaches out slowly, his hand hovering right above Boots' head. I nod at him encouragingly and sure enough, my girl allows him to scratch behind her ears. He removes his hand quickly, as though he'd been burned and steps back, punching the air.
"Finally! She let me pet her!"
"I knew you'd win her over."
He looks at me hopefully. "One more kiss?"
At least he asked before I had to.
_________________________
It's funny. The events of the past few days have led me to change completely the way I carry myself at Silver Star. People who only last week looked on me with hate or in fear are now confused when I try to interact with them on a friendly level. Luckily for me, most of them are receptive. When I first came here the anger I felt against Mort was so overwhelming that I carried myself with an enormous attitude, determined to make everyone at Silver Star as miserable as I was. I can remember one of the techs commenting to someone as much: "Thankfully for the studio, the only thing bigger than his ego is his dick." I can't blame him. It was the absolute truth at the time.
But that's about to change.
Walking through the lobby I smile at the receptionist at the main desk, an adorably nervous young man named Adrian. "Afternoon, Adrian."
He jumps, his eyes widening at my presence. "Oh! M-Mr. Howard! I don't have your dressing room ready, I didn't think you were coming in today! There's no candles or apple juice, and I can't seem to find the leopard print pillows that you want online and I'm so sorry, please-"
"Adrian."
The look of sheer terror on his face hits me where I live and I feel awful for putting him through all the bullshit I'd put him through.
"Listen," I smile, "I won't be needing that private dressing room anymore. I'll get my things and put them in one of the ones the rest of the guys use."
The look on his face is a mix of confusion and surprise. I give him a quick wave as I head down the hallway.
Silver Star's facilities are infinitely nicer than Thrace's were. Every time I walk in these doors I find myself comparing the two, which invariably leads me to a walk down memory lane.
"This is a fucking joke."
I smiled at Chris' frustration as he stormed into the dressing room where I was finishing my lunch. He was right, as usual. And, as usual, there was nothing he could do about it.
"Why can't Evan give me some decent talent to work with?" He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "It's ridiculous."
"What's up?"
"Why is a good rimmer so hard to find?"
I smile at the memory of my friend Chris. He was the first person to befriend me at Thrace and he and I got to be pretty close in the time I was there. One of the youngest directors in the industry, he had made a name for himself quickly, making him something of a hot commodity. He was well liked by everyone there, from the top down; all the actors were especially fond of him.
"Talk to him," I suggested.
"I tried to, he's in a meeting with the head of Silver Star."
I raised my eyebrows. "What? Why?"
"Don't you know? I heard them yelling as I came in a while ago and I thought I heard your name being tossed around."
"Me? Couldn't have been," I replied, shrugging into the policeman's uniform that my next scene required. With a wave to my friend I bounded out the door to suck the cock of a very naughty prisoner.
I'm brought back to reality by the sight of Matthew stalking down the hall and ducking into one of the dressing rooms. Carson is right behind him, and much to my dismay Aaron is right on his heels. I pick up the pace of my steps and slip into the room.
"The fuck is your problem, man?"
"I don't have a problem, Aaron. That would be you," Matthew replies calmly. "You've got some real anger issues. It wasn't that big a deal."
"Everything ok here?" I ask quietly, glancing in Carson's direction.
"I just got here mate, I'm not sure." He crosses his arms. "What's wrong now, Aaron? You shove your vibrator too far up your arse last night? There's some cream for that in the-"
"Shut up, Carson."
Matthew catches my eye and we share a quick smile. The room falls silent and I realize that Aaron is staring at the two of us.
"Wow. It's really true."
"What?" Carson snarls, his hands now on his hips.
"Nothing. Just that Mort's lapdog here," Aaron spat, gesturing in Matthew's direction, "really does have a permanent boner for the resident superstar. It bores me." Carson, however, was having none of it. He walked up to the bigger man and put one finger in his face.
"So why don't you," Carson says evenly, "just fuck right off, then?"
Aaron's eyes widen at Carson's boldness. "Why don't you make me?"
"For fuck's sake," I mutter, "Just whip them out, I'll find a ruler, and we can settle this easily." Carson's eyes widen and he grins, his hand immediately moving to his fly.
"No, no! I wasn't being literal! Please," I groan, "don't whip anything out!"
Carson looks positively defeated at the prospect of not being able to win this particular pissing contest and luckily for us all Aaron walks away but not before hitting Matthew with a parting shot from the doorway.
"Prick."
Matthew looks pointedly at him and yawns, Carson sniggering behind him.
I'm confused, though. "What the actual hell is his problem?"
"Hans wanted me to top. Aaron wasn't happy," Matthew explained. "Simple as that. Typical Aaron, really."
"He's such a prick," Carson moans, throwing himself into the nearest chair. "He's prick-tastic."
"Prick-a-licious," Matthew giggles.
Carson howls with laughter. "Prick-tabulous!"
It's hard to watch those two and not be taken with just how close they are. Carson seems to genuinely care for Matthew, and it's obvious that the feeling is mutual. There's something inherently kind and approachable about Matthew Bellamy. That's something I've always known to be true, ever since the first day I laid eyes on him.
"You'll fit in here in no time," Mort Lewis announced, with a nervous smile.
I said nothing, merely glaring at him, resisting the urge to jump across his desk to throttle him within an inch of his life.
"Please," he begged softly, "please, just try to get used to this, Dominic. I know that the circumstances that brought you here are less than ideal-"
"Less than ideal?" I interrupted, amazed at his cheek. "Try devastating. Life-altering."
"You might want to watch your tone. If I'm not badly mistaken, you desperately need to work, yes? I know about your financial difficulties."
The anger rose steadily in my chest at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make you money. A shit load of money."
He smiled; a greasy, sleazy one. "Well, okay then! Welcome to Silv-" I stood suddenly, desperate to get away from this man. At the door I turned to face him one last time.
"Go to hell."
His mouth dropped open and he actually had the graciousness to flush a little. I slammed the door and sat down in one of the chairs in the hallway, staring at my shoes and trying not to burst into angry tears. I felt like the new kid in school, an outsider looking in. Just then a door opened and three men about my age came out, heading my way.
"Matt, Carson, c'mon, slowpokes!" the redhead whined, passing me with a smile that disappeared when I didn't return it. He shrugged and kept walking. "Not going to wait all night for you dorks!"
"Fuck's sake, David, we're coming!" The brunet replied, turning to the man bringing up the rear. "You got everything, Matthew?"
"Yeah, go on ahead, Carson. I'm coming," the one who was obviously Matthew had smiled; and it was that smile that stopped me in my tracks. As he headed my way I was able to study him even closer. He was dressed in all white, with a pair of tantalizing black braces around his shoulders. As he closed the distance between us I couldn't help but stare; the way his blue eyes contrasted with the shock of cherry-red hair atop his head stopped me in my tracks, and chased my foul mood away for a moment.
"Hi," he said cheerfully, extending his hand, "are you new?"
I nodded my head. "Yeah. You could say that."
"I'm Matthew," he smiled, shifting the bag around his shoulder awkwardly.
I shook his hand. "Dominic. Erm, nice hair."
One pale hand flew to his head. "Thanks! Anyway, it's great to meet you! I have to head out, I'm all done for today, but if you need anything, just let me know and if I can help, I'll be happy to." Another genuine, toothy smile. "See you around."
I smiled in kind. "Thanks, mate."
"You should smile more often. It suits you." He blushed a little and with a wave he was gone.
In that moment I realized that if I could get the chance to see that smile of his now and then, I could take whatever Mort Lewis decided to throw at me.
Carson slaps me on the back as he gathers his things, bringing me back to the present again. "Later, Dom. Was ace to see you at the party last night!"
"Thanks, mate."
Finally Matthew and I are alone.
"So what's up?" I ask.
"I'm finished now. I should probably go see Lou. He's really worried."
"I'm sure he is."
I nod as Matthew walks to the door, locking it. In no time at all he's crossed the room again and takes me in his arms.
"I'd rather see you tonight, though."
"The feeling's very mutual, Mr. Bellamy," I purr, waggling my eyebrows suggestively, Matthew chuckling against my neck as I wrap my arms around him. "But you need to check on Lou. We can do this tomorrow."
"Yeah," he smiles, "we can."
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Feedback: Is lovely, if you're so inclined. :)
Archive: Links only.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, no offense intended, this never happened, and no money is being made. 'Tis fiction, after all. Silver Star Studios and its inhabitants, however, are all mine. Eternal thanks to dolce_piccante, frolicandfall and myz_bee for their beta skills, feedback and general badass-ness. Remember: lalalive23 is the sex & captivemuse rocks my world on a daily basis. (Thank you, girl!) &hearts
Author's Note: This chapter is told from Dominic's POV.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen-a | Fourteen-b | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen
I'm enamored by the sight of my fingers in his hair. It's soft and gorgeous and I could literally sit here like this with him for hours and be content. The way he sighs happily when I lightly scratch his scalp is addicting, like so many other things about him.
"I should go," Matthew announces from my lap, glancing at his watch. "I'm due at filming in a couple
hours."
"Okay," I reply, even though it isn't okay at all and I don't want him to leave. We sit up together and he turns to me, smiling as he leans in for a kiss.
"Can I call you later?"
"I'd rather you call me Dominic or Dom, but, fuck, you can call me anything you want to." The joke is a pretty bad one and I wince internally; luckily Matthew giggles lightly. He looks at me again, thinking.
"Dom." He says the name as though he's trying it on for size. He furrows his brow in concentration for a moment, then winks as it passes. "Nah, I prefer Dominic I think."
Good, because I love hearing my full name on your lips.
"Let me get my things." He jumps up to retrieve his bag from my bathroom. Once he disappears Boots darts out from my bedroom, making a beeline for the couch. She stares at me expectantly, her tail wagging briskly, a signal for me to gather her into my arms.
"Be nice to him, girl. He's not gonna hurt you," I chide lightly, kissing the top of her head. With a petulant meow she buries her head against my shoulder.
The two of us are waiting for him by the door as he comes back.
"Who you working with today?" I try to make my question as casual as I can but I freely admit that I'm jealous at the thought of someone else touching him intimately, kissing him, making him come so gorgeously. Those are things that I want for myself so badly.
"Aaron, I think?"
"Ah. The Douchebag."
"The one and only. Hopefully he feels like playing nice today."
I don't like Aaron very much. Okay, I don't know him very well personally but the couple times I've worked with him myself he's been pretty rough with me. Naturally, the thought of Matthew being in that position worries me a little.
"I may see you there later on. I need to pick up my wages for the month," I blurt out. It can't hurt to check in, right?
His face lights up. "Okay! If you come down, find me."
"Thanks for last night, Matthew. And for talking to me this morning. I know that had to be hard to do."
He shakes his head. "Actually, it was nice to remember her, even for just a moment. See you later, then."
"You know it," I smile.
Matthew reaches out slowly, his hand hovering right above Boots' head. I nod at him encouragingly and sure enough, my girl allows him to scratch behind her ears. He removes his hand quickly, as though he'd been burned and steps back, punching the air.
"Finally! She let me pet her!"
"I knew you'd win her over."
He looks at me hopefully. "One more kiss?"
At least he asked before I had to.
_________________________
It's funny. The events of the past few days have led me to change completely the way I carry myself at Silver Star. People who only last week looked on me with hate or in fear are now confused when I try to interact with them on a friendly level. Luckily for me, most of them are receptive. When I first came here the anger I felt against Mort was so overwhelming that I carried myself with an enormous attitude, determined to make everyone at Silver Star as miserable as I was. I can remember one of the techs commenting to someone as much: "Thankfully for the studio, the only thing bigger than his ego is his dick." I can't blame him. It was the absolute truth at the time.
But that's about to change.
Walking through the lobby I smile at the receptionist at the main desk, an adorably nervous young man named Adrian. "Afternoon, Adrian."
He jumps, his eyes widening at my presence. "Oh! M-Mr. Howard! I don't have your dressing room ready, I didn't think you were coming in today! There's no candles or apple juice, and I can't seem to find the leopard print pillows that you want online and I'm so sorry, please-"
"Adrian."
The look of sheer terror on his face hits me where I live and I feel awful for putting him through all the bullshit I'd put him through.
"Listen," I smile, "I won't be needing that private dressing room anymore. I'll get my things and put them in one of the ones the rest of the guys use."
The look on his face is a mix of confusion and surprise. I give him a quick wave as I head down the hallway.
Silver Star's facilities are infinitely nicer than Thrace's were. Every time I walk in these doors I find myself comparing the two, which invariably leads me to a walk down memory lane.
"This is a fucking joke."
I smiled at Chris' frustration as he stormed into the dressing room where I was finishing my lunch. He was right, as usual. And, as usual, there was nothing he could do about it.
"Why can't Evan give me some decent talent to work with?" He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "It's ridiculous."
"What's up?"
"Why is a good rimmer so hard to find?"
I smile at the memory of my friend Chris. He was the first person to befriend me at Thrace and he and I got to be pretty close in the time I was there. One of the youngest directors in the industry, he had made a name for himself quickly, making him something of a hot commodity. He was well liked by everyone there, from the top down; all the actors were especially fond of him.
"Talk to him," I suggested.
"I tried to, he's in a meeting with the head of Silver Star."
I raised my eyebrows. "What? Why?"
"Don't you know? I heard them yelling as I came in a while ago and I thought I heard your name being tossed around."
"Me? Couldn't have been," I replied, shrugging into the policeman's uniform that my next scene required. With a wave to my friend I bounded out the door to suck the cock of a very naughty prisoner.
I'm brought back to reality by the sight of Matthew stalking down the hall and ducking into one of the dressing rooms. Carson is right behind him, and much to my dismay Aaron is right on his heels. I pick up the pace of my steps and slip into the room.
"The fuck is your problem, man?"
"I don't have a problem, Aaron. That would be you," Matthew replies calmly. "You've got some real anger issues. It wasn't that big a deal."
"Everything ok here?" I ask quietly, glancing in Carson's direction.
"I just got here mate, I'm not sure." He crosses his arms. "What's wrong now, Aaron? You shove your vibrator too far up your arse last night? There's some cream for that in the-"
"Shut up, Carson."
Matthew catches my eye and we share a quick smile. The room falls silent and I realize that Aaron is staring at the two of us.
"Wow. It's really true."
"What?" Carson snarls, his hands now on his hips.
"Nothing. Just that Mort's lapdog here," Aaron spat, gesturing in Matthew's direction, "really does have a permanent boner for the resident superstar. It bores me." Carson, however, was having none of it. He walked up to the bigger man and put one finger in his face.
"So why don't you," Carson says evenly, "just fuck right off, then?"
Aaron's eyes widen at Carson's boldness. "Why don't you make me?"
"For fuck's sake," I mutter, "Just whip them out, I'll find a ruler, and we can settle this easily." Carson's eyes widen and he grins, his hand immediately moving to his fly.
"No, no! I wasn't being literal! Please," I groan, "don't whip anything out!"
Carson looks positively defeated at the prospect of not being able to win this particular pissing contest and luckily for us all Aaron walks away but not before hitting Matthew with a parting shot from the doorway.
"Prick."
Matthew looks pointedly at him and yawns, Carson sniggering behind him.
I'm confused, though. "What the actual hell is his problem?"
"Hans wanted me to top. Aaron wasn't happy," Matthew explained. "Simple as that. Typical Aaron, really."
"He's such a prick," Carson moans, throwing himself into the nearest chair. "He's prick-tastic."
"Prick-a-licious," Matthew giggles.
Carson howls with laughter. "Prick-tabulous!"
It's hard to watch those two and not be taken with just how close they are. Carson seems to genuinely care for Matthew, and it's obvious that the feeling is mutual. There's something inherently kind and approachable about Matthew Bellamy. That's something I've always known to be true, ever since the first day I laid eyes on him.
"You'll fit in here in no time," Mort Lewis announced, with a nervous smile.
I said nothing, merely glaring at him, resisting the urge to jump across his desk to throttle him within an inch of his life.
"Please," he begged softly, "please, just try to get used to this, Dominic. I know that the circumstances that brought you here are less than ideal-"
"Less than ideal?" I interrupted, amazed at his cheek. "Try devastating. Life-altering."
"You might want to watch your tone. If I'm not badly mistaken, you desperately need to work, yes? I know about your financial difficulties."
The anger rose steadily in my chest at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make you money. A shit load of money."
He smiled; a greasy, sleazy one. "Well, okay then! Welcome to Silv-" I stood suddenly, desperate to get away from this man. At the door I turned to face him one last time.
"Go to hell."
His mouth dropped open and he actually had the graciousness to flush a little. I slammed the door and sat down in one of the chairs in the hallway, staring at my shoes and trying not to burst into angry tears. I felt like the new kid in school, an outsider looking in. Just then a door opened and three men about my age came out, heading my way.
"Matt, Carson, c'mon, slowpokes!" the redhead whined, passing me with a smile that disappeared when I didn't return it. He shrugged and kept walking. "Not going to wait all night for you dorks!"
"Fuck's sake, David, we're coming!" The brunet replied, turning to the man bringing up the rear. "You got everything, Matthew?"
"Yeah, go on ahead, Carson. I'm coming," the one who was obviously Matthew had smiled; and it was that smile that stopped me in my tracks. As he headed my way I was able to study him even closer. He was dressed in all white, with a pair of tantalizing black braces around his shoulders. As he closed the distance between us I couldn't help but stare; the way his blue eyes contrasted with the shock of cherry-red hair atop his head stopped me in my tracks, and chased my foul mood away for a moment.
"Hi," he said cheerfully, extending his hand, "are you new?"
I nodded my head. "Yeah. You could say that."
"I'm Matthew," he smiled, shifting the bag around his shoulder awkwardly.
I shook his hand. "Dominic. Erm, nice hair."
One pale hand flew to his head. "Thanks! Anyway, it's great to meet you! I have to head out, I'm all done for today, but if you need anything, just let me know and if I can help, I'll be happy to." Another genuine, toothy smile. "See you around."
I smiled in kind. "Thanks, mate."
"You should smile more often. It suits you." He blushed a little and with a wave he was gone.
In that moment I realized that if I could get the chance to see that smile of his now and then, I could take whatever Mort Lewis decided to throw at me.
Carson slaps me on the back as he gathers his things, bringing me back to the present again. "Later, Dom. Was ace to see you at the party last night!"
"Thanks, mate."
Finally Matthew and I are alone.
"So what's up?" I ask.
"I'm finished now. I should probably go see Lou. He's really worried."
"I'm sure he is."
I nod as Matthew walks to the door, locking it. In no time at all he's crossed the room again and takes me in his arms.
"I'd rather see you tonight, though."
"The feeling's very mutual, Mr. Bellamy," I purr, waggling my eyebrows suggestively, Matthew chuckling against my neck as I wrap my arms around him. "But you need to check on Lou. We can do this tomorrow."
"Yeah," he smiles, "we can."