The Pleasure Principle (Thirty-Four/Thirty-Five)
Title: The Pleasure Principle (Thirty-Four/Thirty-Five)
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language, smut.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Beta / Support: As always, the flawless dolce_piccante. So much love. <3
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.
Author's Note: No, hell did not, in fact, freeze over, even though there have been two updates to this fic in the same week haha! At 2810 words, this one got a bit longish, but I hope it's satisfying. If you decide to read, thank you, and I hope you enjoy.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen-a | Fourteen-b | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Twenty-Six | Twenty-Seven | Twenty-Eight | TPP Xmas | Twenty-Nine | Thirty | Thirty-One | Thirty-Two | Thirty-Three
When Dominic asked me to accompany him to the police barracks that evening, I was all too happy to do so. I drove us downtown, Dominic's head on my shoulder for the duration of the ride. Now and then he would raise his head to press a kiss to my cheek.
"What do you think he wants?"
"No idea. I'm too curious not to find out, though. Thank you for coming with me."
"Don't thank me. I'm happy to do it. You should know by now that I'd follow you anywhere," I assert softly as I come to a stop at a red light. I turn to Dominic, and he's smiling softly at me. "Careful," I admonish, "when we get out of here later, I might have to kiss that smile off your face." I peck his lips as the light changes and we pull into the police station.
"I'll hold you to that," he replies.
Once we're inside, Dominic gives his name at the desk and shortly, a Detective Lantana comes out to meet us, shaking hands with Dominic and I. After introductions are made, he asks us if we'd like anything to drink, which we both decline. He nods and leads us down a corridor.
"Mr. Bellamy, I'm sorry, but protocol dictates that only Mr. Howard and an officer can be present for the duration of the visit. You are welcome to remain with me in the next room where I will be monitoring the visit."
"Sure, thank you."
"Is he cooperating?" Dominic asks.
Lantana nods. "He is now. He realizes that he has no choice in the matter anymore."
"Can I ask one question?" I say, nervously. I can't help myself, one certain thing has been on my mind ever since we set foot in the barracks.
"Of course you can, son."
"Mort Lewis. Will he be-"
"Morton Philip Lewis and Justin Andrew Wolstenholme have cooperated fully with us," Lantana nods. "Indeed, without them, we would have no case at all, so neither will face charges in this matter. Without their assistance, we would have no case. Because of them, we will be able to get this piece of shit off the streets finally. We've had our eye on Barrows for years now and were well aware of his connections to some of the more unsavory characters in this city. "
Dominic squeezes my hand and I sigh audibly. "Thank you."
Lantana looks at Dominic. "You ready?"
Dominic nods, biting his lower lip. He enters a room, Detective Lantana and I entering the next one. A large, flat screen television has been set up to help the detectives monitor what happens between Dominic and Evan Barrows. Dominic sits down opposite Barrows, at a long table, and takes a deep breath.
Have you ever seen one of those old mobster movies from back in the day? The ones where the mob bosses are, stereotypically, short men with slicked back, oily black hair, dressed in an expensive suit, wearing a fedora?
I shit you not, when I first laid eyes on Evan Barrows that's the first thing I thought of. I half expecthim to smile at me through the camera and ask me how I dared to come here, today, "on the day of my daughter's wedding". He certainly looks every bit the part of a villain.
"Evan."
"Howard."
Dominic scratches the back of his neck nervously, but maintains eye contact with Barrows. "What the fuck happened to you? What is all this?"
"It was business, Dominic. Pure business. It's just too bad that I got drunk playing poker that night, what can I say. Morton Lewis called my bluff and, well, if the high stakes happened involve getting rid of the one person at Thrace who reminded me of Jonathan Lincoln, well, then, perhaps it wasn't that big of a loss after all, yes?"
"What, exactly, have I ever done to you?"
Barrows closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths. When he begins to speak again his voice is markedly calm, yet still dripping with loathing.
"Twelve years. Twelve years of my life, I worked under Jonathan Lincoln. I did and said all of the right things. I dotted every "i" and crossed every "t" when it came to the business side of operations at Thrace. I knew that I was destined for more, but I told myself to hold firm, that if I worked hard, surely the old man would reward me one day, perhaps when he was ready to retire from his position. He had no heirs to speak of, his partner Clive dying years ago, and very few close friends. He often told me I was the closest thing he had to a son."
He pauses, and closes his eyes for a beat, taking a deep breath. When he opens his eyes they are fixed squarely on Dominic.
"And then, one day, you came along. Bright-eyed, big smile, with an even bigger dick, it was like an answer from heaven above, for Thrace, at least."
Dominic says nothing, but continues to hold Barrow's gaze without blinking.
"We all knew that you had talent, and you certainly had the drive. And, well, the rest is history, isn't it? You shot up the ladder at Thrace like wildfire in three short years, and suddenly we had this amazingly hot commodity in the gay porn industry. Finally, we would be able compete with Silver Star the way we'd always wanted to. But, it was more than that, wasn't it, Dominic? Between you and Lincoln, I mean."
"I suggest you tread carefully," Dominic says through clenched teeth, "before I reach across this desk and rearrange your face."
"Oh please, I don't mean anything inappropriate, Howard."
"Then what the fuck do you mean?"
"I kissed that man's backside for twelve long years to assert my place within the company that I had given everything to. One day, I remember, it was a Thursday, Lincoln and I were having dinner in his office and as he passed me the wine and announced that he'd been thinking about who he'd like to leave the company to when he passes on. At this point, he and I were the only ones aware of how far his illness had progressed. But I could see that you two were getting close, in a father/son sort of way. Sure, enough, one night he tells me that he's decided to leave the company to you in the event of his passing. Tells me that he's come to love and trust you like the son he and Clive were never able to have. Tells me that he thinks that in time, you could make Thrace the best and most profitable studio around." He laughs, bitterly. "It was the ultimate slap in the face. I had given that man and that company my life. It should have been mine, and so I quietly set in motion events that would lead to that eventuality."
"You were jealous," Dominic says quietly, "you were jealous of my relationship with Mr. Lincoln and you decided to act like a petty child because of it."
"Altering the will wasn't that difficult. Poor Wolstenholme refused to play his part at first, but he was all too happy to cooperate after we cut the brake lines on his wife's car to assert our position. Luckily, she and the children only had a minor accident."
"Bastard," Dominic whispers, hands shaking as they grip the edge of the table.
Beside me, Lantana shakes his head. "What a piece of work," he whispers.
I have to agree with him on that one.
"That's what's going to put him away for life," he continues, "Wolstenholme was smart and kept every bit of disgusting and threatening communication Barrows sent his way Barrows had mob connections too and was having Wolstenholme's youngest child followed to and from school."
On the monitor, Barrows laughs loudly. "Bastard? Yes. Yes, that is the word. Once he realized that I had an associate who had an affinity for young children and was adept in the removal of fingers, he was on board. And, it all would have went perfectly to plan if not for his sudden flash of conscience. Wolstenholme would have kept his mouth shut if Lewis hadn't got to him; he was too frightened for anything else. I hope he rots in hell."
"You would have willingly hurt a man's children and you hope he rots in hell? Ownership of Thrace was that important to you, that you would have done something so... so horrible?"
"It's not personal. It's business. You have to be willing to fight for what you want in life."
"No," Dominic replies, "you have to be willing to work for what you want in life. There's a difference. People aren't pawns, to be toyed with for your own sick, personal endgame, Evan. He knew, though, Evan. He told me more than once that he'd begun to worry that you didn't have Thrace's best interests at heart. You may have spent a lot of years working beside Mr. Lincoln, but you really didn't learn anything from him. None of the goodness he had rubbed off on you, not an ounce, and that's a damn shame."
Listening to all of this transpire, I'm reminded of Mort's words about Jonathan Lincoln a few months back:
"Jonathan had no family to speak of, Matthew," Mort continued, directing his attention to me now, "he outlived his partner Clive, unfortunately. He lived alone in those later years, and the actors and production staff he employed really filled that void in his life that losing his partner created. He was very close with the people he employed, and made a point out of being on set nearly every day, just to be able to cultivate those bonds. Dominic can attest to this, I'm sure."
"And, as far as Mort goes, why did you offer me to him, if you were so intent on making Thrace profitable - you yourself said that I was making you money."
Barrows crinkles his eyes, then glances at Dominic as though he's terribly slow. He laughs. "Because I fucking wanted you out of my sight. I could have found other porn stars, there are always young men out there desperate for a chance."
"You hated me that much, then."
"Now you're getting it. It's really the only reason I asked you to come here. I wanted to be able to look you in the eye and make certain that you know how much I hate you. "
"Thank you," Dominic says suddenly.
Barrows' eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"
"This year I've spent at Silver Star has ended up becoming the happiest of my life. You may hate me, and you may have been intent on making me miserable, but in the end, it backfired miserably. You did me a favor."
Evan Barrows looks, in that moment, as though he could willfully murder Dominic.
"Remember that, yeah?" Dominic smiles softly, "I mean, you're gonna have the rest of your life behind bars to think about it. Don't forget to write, sunshine."
"Fuck you," Barrows replies, eyes narrowing as though it pains him to even spit the syllables out. "Enjoy, Dominic. Thrace Productions belongs to you now." He stands, the officer at his side in a heartbeat to escort him from the room. "Well, what's left of it."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see," Barrows spits as he's led away, a nasty smile on his face.
Detective Lantana and I enter the room where Dominic is now sitting alone. I walk up to him and put my hands on his shoulders, Dominic's hand covering my own. Lantana perches on the table, crossing his arms.
"You alright, kid?" he asks.
Dominic wrinkles his eyes. "Yeah. No. I don't know, to be honest. What did he mean by 'what's left of Thrace'?"
"Our auditors have been looking over the books. Barrows has gutted the company. Thrace is practically bankrupt."
"Bankrupt?" Dominic gasps. "How is that possible?!"
"Barrows was gambling most of the profits away, from what we can tell. Directors were walking out left and right. A lot of the actors were going without their paychecks also. Decent guys, too, we've been interviewing quite a few of them. It's a real mess."
"My god. Can it be salvaged?"
"Well, it's up to you now, you are legal heir to the company, and I wish you all the best," he finishes, smiling at Dominic. "If you'll both come with me, I can give you more information and tell you who you can get in touch with for more information on how you should proceed."
"So, what happens now?" I ask, wrapping my arms around Dominic that night in bed.
He turns to me. "I don't know. None of this seems real, even now. I mean, all these months and suddenly, just like that, it's over. What would you do, Matt, if you were me?"
"I really don't know," I admit. "It's a lot to take in. Seems to me that it would be a massive undertaking, running a studio, I mean. I wouldn't even know where to begin."
Dominic nods, lost in thought.
"That doesn't mean that I don't think you'd be up for the job, though." I squeeze his bare shoulder; he smiles softly when I do.
"I think I have an idea but... I want to talk to Lou and Mort first," he answers, finally. "Tomorrow. No more of this tonight. Let me look at you."
He presses me down and into the pillows, eyes scanning every inch of me that is visible as his erection makes contact with my outer thigh. It doesn't make me blush being under his scrutiny anymore; its exhilarating to be wanted so much by someone I want just as badly. His fingertips traverse my skin; up and down my sternum, across one nipple, lingering there before pressing a kiss to it. "I'm so happy I found you."
"Me too," I whisper, gently reversing our positions. "Let me make you forget all of this." He looks at me lets his body relax. I gently urge him to lift his hips, sliding his boxers down his gorgeous legs and throwing them aside. Dominic's fingers reach for my own but I evade him, shaking my head. "No. I want to take care of you. Relax, and let me."
It's instinct, after all, isn't it? To want to look after the one that you love when they need a bit of comfort, be it through a kind word, or a decadent touch. Spread out naked before me, I have to stifle a groan at how stunning Dominic is. Yes, I've seen him this way before, so many times that I've nearly lost count, but that doesn't mean I ever intend to take it, or him, for granted.
And so, I look after him. I kiss him softly, whispering to him the way I know he likes so much - a little bit of naughtiness, a whole lot sweetness. My hands seek out as much of his skin as they can, my lips often following right in their path. Every now and then I gift his lips with a deep kiss, sighing when Dominic bites down on my lower lip.
He moans softly when I suck his dickhead into my mouth, taking my time as I work the base of him with one hand. I take it slow, relishing how hot and thick he feels against my tongue. I lift off to attend to his lips again, kissing him so deeply that he whines at the sheer intimacy of it, my hand still tugging slowly on his now leaking shaft. Intent on getting back to business, I release his lips, but he stops me before I can swallow him down again.
"Stay up here," he pleads, running one hand through my hair. "Don't stop kissing me."
So, I do. I kiss him, and kiss him until we are both breathless from it, my hand still jerking him, but now at a faster pace. I swallow every one of his moans eagerly as his body begins to twist and writhe beneath me. Dominic curses and pleads for me not to stop, not to ever stop. He begs me to stay with him always, to let him keep me close to him for always. I assure him that we belong to each other and that nothing will ever change that.
When he finally spills over my fist, he groans, gasping and licking into my mouth all the while. Eyes closed, he pants for air, his chest heaving. I am reluctant to leave him, but I pad to the bathroom for a wet cloth to clean him up with. While there, I take care of my own erection. When I come back, he's got one arm above his head, sated eyes trained on me. I attend to him and turn out the lamp next to the bed before crawling in beside him.
He pulls me close, kissing me softly. "Thank you," he yawns.
"Don't thank me, silly dick."
"I lo-" he yawns again and I smile at the sight.
"I know. I love you too.
"Mmm..."
"Shhh, go to sleep," I whisper.
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom, AU
Rating: NC 17 overall, to be safe
Warnings: This part: language, smut.
Summary: Our boys are porn stars. Wait, why are you laughing?
Beta / Support: As always, the flawless dolce_piccante. So much love. <3
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.
Author's Note: No, hell did not, in fact, freeze over, even though there have been two updates to this fic in the same week haha! At 2810 words, this one got a bit longish, but I hope it's satisfying. If you decide to read, thank you, and I hope you enjoy.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen-a | Fourteen-b | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Twenty-Six | Twenty-Seven | Twenty-Eight | TPP Xmas | Twenty-Nine | Thirty | Thirty-One | Thirty-Two | Thirty-Three
When Dominic asked me to accompany him to the police barracks that evening, I was all too happy to do so. I drove us downtown, Dominic's head on my shoulder for the duration of the ride. Now and then he would raise his head to press a kiss to my cheek.
"What do you think he wants?"
"No idea. I'm too curious not to find out, though. Thank you for coming with me."
"Don't thank me. I'm happy to do it. You should know by now that I'd follow you anywhere," I assert softly as I come to a stop at a red light. I turn to Dominic, and he's smiling softly at me. "Careful," I admonish, "when we get out of here later, I might have to kiss that smile off your face." I peck his lips as the light changes and we pull into the police station.
"I'll hold you to that," he replies.
Once we're inside, Dominic gives his name at the desk and shortly, a Detective Lantana comes out to meet us, shaking hands with Dominic and I. After introductions are made, he asks us if we'd like anything to drink, which we both decline. He nods and leads us down a corridor.
"Mr. Bellamy, I'm sorry, but protocol dictates that only Mr. Howard and an officer can be present for the duration of the visit. You are welcome to remain with me in the next room where I will be monitoring the visit."
"Sure, thank you."
"Is he cooperating?" Dominic asks.
Lantana nods. "He is now. He realizes that he has no choice in the matter anymore."
"Can I ask one question?" I say, nervously. I can't help myself, one certain thing has been on my mind ever since we set foot in the barracks.
"Of course you can, son."
"Mort Lewis. Will he be-"
"Morton Philip Lewis and Justin Andrew Wolstenholme have cooperated fully with us," Lantana nods. "Indeed, without them, we would have no case at all, so neither will face charges in this matter. Without their assistance, we would have no case. Because of them, we will be able to get this piece of shit off the streets finally. We've had our eye on Barrows for years now and were well aware of his connections to some of the more unsavory characters in this city. "
Dominic squeezes my hand and I sigh audibly. "Thank you."
Lantana looks at Dominic. "You ready?"
Dominic nods, biting his lower lip. He enters a room, Detective Lantana and I entering the next one. A large, flat screen television has been set up to help the detectives monitor what happens between Dominic and Evan Barrows. Dominic sits down opposite Barrows, at a long table, and takes a deep breath.
Have you ever seen one of those old mobster movies from back in the day? The ones where the mob bosses are, stereotypically, short men with slicked back, oily black hair, dressed in an expensive suit, wearing a fedora?
I shit you not, when I first laid eyes on Evan Barrows that's the first thing I thought of. I half expecthim to smile at me through the camera and ask me how I dared to come here, today, "on the day of my daughter's wedding". He certainly looks every bit the part of a villain.
"Evan."
"Howard."
Dominic scratches the back of his neck nervously, but maintains eye contact with Barrows. "What the fuck happened to you? What is all this?"
"It was business, Dominic. Pure business. It's just too bad that I got drunk playing poker that night, what can I say. Morton Lewis called my bluff and, well, if the high stakes happened involve getting rid of the one person at Thrace who reminded me of Jonathan Lincoln, well, then, perhaps it wasn't that big of a loss after all, yes?"
"What, exactly, have I ever done to you?"
Barrows closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths. When he begins to speak again his voice is markedly calm, yet still dripping with loathing.
"Twelve years. Twelve years of my life, I worked under Jonathan Lincoln. I did and said all of the right things. I dotted every "i" and crossed every "t" when it came to the business side of operations at Thrace. I knew that I was destined for more, but I told myself to hold firm, that if I worked hard, surely the old man would reward me one day, perhaps when he was ready to retire from his position. He had no heirs to speak of, his partner Clive dying years ago, and very few close friends. He often told me I was the closest thing he had to a son."
He pauses, and closes his eyes for a beat, taking a deep breath. When he opens his eyes they are fixed squarely on Dominic.
"And then, one day, you came along. Bright-eyed, big smile, with an even bigger dick, it was like an answer from heaven above, for Thrace, at least."
Dominic says nothing, but continues to hold Barrow's gaze without blinking.
"We all knew that you had talent, and you certainly had the drive. And, well, the rest is history, isn't it? You shot up the ladder at Thrace like wildfire in three short years, and suddenly we had this amazingly hot commodity in the gay porn industry. Finally, we would be able compete with Silver Star the way we'd always wanted to. But, it was more than that, wasn't it, Dominic? Between you and Lincoln, I mean."
"I suggest you tread carefully," Dominic says through clenched teeth, "before I reach across this desk and rearrange your face."
"Oh please, I don't mean anything inappropriate, Howard."
"Then what the fuck do you mean?"
"I kissed that man's backside for twelve long years to assert my place within the company that I had given everything to. One day, I remember, it was a Thursday, Lincoln and I were having dinner in his office and as he passed me the wine and announced that he'd been thinking about who he'd like to leave the company to when he passes on. At this point, he and I were the only ones aware of how far his illness had progressed. But I could see that you two were getting close, in a father/son sort of way. Sure, enough, one night he tells me that he's decided to leave the company to you in the event of his passing. Tells me that he's come to love and trust you like the son he and Clive were never able to have. Tells me that he thinks that in time, you could make Thrace the best and most profitable studio around." He laughs, bitterly. "It was the ultimate slap in the face. I had given that man and that company my life. It should have been mine, and so I quietly set in motion events that would lead to that eventuality."
"You were jealous," Dominic says quietly, "you were jealous of my relationship with Mr. Lincoln and you decided to act like a petty child because of it."
"Altering the will wasn't that difficult. Poor Wolstenholme refused to play his part at first, but he was all too happy to cooperate after we cut the brake lines on his wife's car to assert our position. Luckily, she and the children only had a minor accident."
"Bastard," Dominic whispers, hands shaking as they grip the edge of the table.
Beside me, Lantana shakes his head. "What a piece of work," he whispers.
I have to agree with him on that one.
"That's what's going to put him away for life," he continues, "Wolstenholme was smart and kept every bit of disgusting and threatening communication Barrows sent his way Barrows had mob connections too and was having Wolstenholme's youngest child followed to and from school."
On the monitor, Barrows laughs loudly. "Bastard? Yes. Yes, that is the word. Once he realized that I had an associate who had an affinity for young children and was adept in the removal of fingers, he was on board. And, it all would have went perfectly to plan if not for his sudden flash of conscience. Wolstenholme would have kept his mouth shut if Lewis hadn't got to him; he was too frightened for anything else. I hope he rots in hell."
"You would have willingly hurt a man's children and you hope he rots in hell? Ownership of Thrace was that important to you, that you would have done something so... so horrible?"
"It's not personal. It's business. You have to be willing to fight for what you want in life."
"No," Dominic replies, "you have to be willing to work for what you want in life. There's a difference. People aren't pawns, to be toyed with for your own sick, personal endgame, Evan. He knew, though, Evan. He told me more than once that he'd begun to worry that you didn't have Thrace's best interests at heart. You may have spent a lot of years working beside Mr. Lincoln, but you really didn't learn anything from him. None of the goodness he had rubbed off on you, not an ounce, and that's a damn shame."
Listening to all of this transpire, I'm reminded of Mort's words about Jonathan Lincoln a few months back:
"Jonathan had no family to speak of, Matthew," Mort continued, directing his attention to me now, "he outlived his partner Clive, unfortunately. He lived alone in those later years, and the actors and production staff he employed really filled that void in his life that losing his partner created. He was very close with the people he employed, and made a point out of being on set nearly every day, just to be able to cultivate those bonds. Dominic can attest to this, I'm sure."
"And, as far as Mort goes, why did you offer me to him, if you were so intent on making Thrace profitable - you yourself said that I was making you money."
Barrows crinkles his eyes, then glances at Dominic as though he's terribly slow. He laughs. "Because I fucking wanted you out of my sight. I could have found other porn stars, there are always young men out there desperate for a chance."
"You hated me that much, then."
"Now you're getting it. It's really the only reason I asked you to come here. I wanted to be able to look you in the eye and make certain that you know how much I hate you. "
"Thank you," Dominic says suddenly.
Barrows' eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"
"This year I've spent at Silver Star has ended up becoming the happiest of my life. You may hate me, and you may have been intent on making me miserable, but in the end, it backfired miserably. You did me a favor."
Evan Barrows looks, in that moment, as though he could willfully murder Dominic.
"Remember that, yeah?" Dominic smiles softly, "I mean, you're gonna have the rest of your life behind bars to think about it. Don't forget to write, sunshine."
"Fuck you," Barrows replies, eyes narrowing as though it pains him to even spit the syllables out. "Enjoy, Dominic. Thrace Productions belongs to you now." He stands, the officer at his side in a heartbeat to escort him from the room. "Well, what's left of it."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see," Barrows spits as he's led away, a nasty smile on his face.
Detective Lantana and I enter the room where Dominic is now sitting alone. I walk up to him and put my hands on his shoulders, Dominic's hand covering my own. Lantana perches on the table, crossing his arms.
"You alright, kid?" he asks.
Dominic wrinkles his eyes. "Yeah. No. I don't know, to be honest. What did he mean by 'what's left of Thrace'?"
"Our auditors have been looking over the books. Barrows has gutted the company. Thrace is practically bankrupt."
"Bankrupt?" Dominic gasps. "How is that possible?!"
"Barrows was gambling most of the profits away, from what we can tell. Directors were walking out left and right. A lot of the actors were going without their paychecks also. Decent guys, too, we've been interviewing quite a few of them. It's a real mess."
"My god. Can it be salvaged?"
"Well, it's up to you now, you are legal heir to the company, and I wish you all the best," he finishes, smiling at Dominic. "If you'll both come with me, I can give you more information and tell you who you can get in touch with for more information on how you should proceed."
"So, what happens now?" I ask, wrapping my arms around Dominic that night in bed.
He turns to me. "I don't know. None of this seems real, even now. I mean, all these months and suddenly, just like that, it's over. What would you do, Matt, if you were me?"
"I really don't know," I admit. "It's a lot to take in. Seems to me that it would be a massive undertaking, running a studio, I mean. I wouldn't even know where to begin."
Dominic nods, lost in thought.
"That doesn't mean that I don't think you'd be up for the job, though." I squeeze his bare shoulder; he smiles softly when I do.
"I think I have an idea but... I want to talk to Lou and Mort first," he answers, finally. "Tomorrow. No more of this tonight. Let me look at you."
He presses me down and into the pillows, eyes scanning every inch of me that is visible as his erection makes contact with my outer thigh. It doesn't make me blush being under his scrutiny anymore; its exhilarating to be wanted so much by someone I want just as badly. His fingertips traverse my skin; up and down my sternum, across one nipple, lingering there before pressing a kiss to it. "I'm so happy I found you."
"Me too," I whisper, gently reversing our positions. "Let me make you forget all of this." He looks at me lets his body relax. I gently urge him to lift his hips, sliding his boxers down his gorgeous legs and throwing them aside. Dominic's fingers reach for my own but I evade him, shaking my head. "No. I want to take care of you. Relax, and let me."
It's instinct, after all, isn't it? To want to look after the one that you love when they need a bit of comfort, be it through a kind word, or a decadent touch. Spread out naked before me, I have to stifle a groan at how stunning Dominic is. Yes, I've seen him this way before, so many times that I've nearly lost count, but that doesn't mean I ever intend to take it, or him, for granted.
And so, I look after him. I kiss him softly, whispering to him the way I know he likes so much - a little bit of naughtiness, a whole lot sweetness. My hands seek out as much of his skin as they can, my lips often following right in their path. Every now and then I gift his lips with a deep kiss, sighing when Dominic bites down on my lower lip.
He moans softly when I suck his dickhead into my mouth, taking my time as I work the base of him with one hand. I take it slow, relishing how hot and thick he feels against my tongue. I lift off to attend to his lips again, kissing him so deeply that he whines at the sheer intimacy of it, my hand still tugging slowly on his now leaking shaft. Intent on getting back to business, I release his lips, but he stops me before I can swallow him down again.
"Stay up here," he pleads, running one hand through my hair. "Don't stop kissing me."
So, I do. I kiss him, and kiss him until we are both breathless from it, my hand still jerking him, but now at a faster pace. I swallow every one of his moans eagerly as his body begins to twist and writhe beneath me. Dominic curses and pleads for me not to stop, not to ever stop. He begs me to stay with him always, to let him keep me close to him for always. I assure him that we belong to each other and that nothing will ever change that.
When he finally spills over my fist, he groans, gasping and licking into my mouth all the while. Eyes closed, he pants for air, his chest heaving. I am reluctant to leave him, but I pad to the bathroom for a wet cloth to clean him up with. While there, I take care of my own erection. When I come back, he's got one arm above his head, sated eyes trained on me. I attend to him and turn out the lamp next to the bed before crawling in beside him.
He pulls me close, kissing me softly. "Thank you," he yawns.
"Don't thank me, silly dick."
"I lo-" he yawns again and I smile at the sight.
"I know. I love you too.
"Mmm..."
"Shhh, go to sleep," I whisper.