Classified Nuclear Probe
Title: Classified Nuclear Probe
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Matthew/Dominic
Rating: R
Here There Be: Language, crack!fic.
Summary: One possible reaction that Matthew could have had to Dominic's recent hair color. Maybe. Perhaps.
Disclaimer: I don't own Matt or Dom, no profit is being made, and this is fiction.
Beta/Support: amusedinred - thanks for the emergency beta read! :)
Author's Note: Complete and total crackfic. As always, if you choose to read, thank you, so much. I hope you enjoy.
Dominic had become adept at a lot of things in his admittedly young life. Drumming, of course, would have to top that particular list, of course, but right beneath it would be his Brie eating skills, not to mention his uncanny ability to reduce most Muse fans to a quivering mess with a simple smile.
Today, though, Dominic was practicing perfecting something else entirely: the selfie.
If anyone had seen him, there in his bathroom, his phone in hand, they may very well have giggled a bit, because he was taking this particular photo very, very seriously. With each shot his facial expression changed. Sometimes his tongue would peek out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Other times he'd stare seductively into the camera and purse his lips, but nearly every time he attempted that particular pose he just collapsed into laughter. He'd already deleted twenty seven unacceptable shots, but apparently Number Twenty Eight was the lucky one, because he saved it and grinned to himself as he strolled back into the den.
He inserted the photo into a text message to a certain recipient, along with this text: Dye job complete! When are you coming home? Bored and horny. x
Dominic didn't get a reply straightaway. He'd put his phone on the settee and had just closed his eyes for a nap when it buzzed, alerting him of Matthew's reply: Well done. It's very... bright! I'll be back tomorrow night, seven or so. Don't be wearing clothes when I get there. Miss you. x
Satisfied, Dominic grinned to himself as he leafed through some drum magazines and ordered a pizza.
He was nothing if not capable of following instructions, and so, when he heard activity in the foyer the next night right around seven o'clock, he launched himself, naked, toward the bed he and Matthew shared and dove onto it, bouncing on the blue duvet, his necklace clinking in the silence of the room.
"Dom?" a voice called out, "you here?"
"Where the fuck else would I be? Get up here."
Dominic got no reply; instead he simply got a series of manic, Bellamy-style giggles, which, if he was honest, Dominic never got tired of. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dominic could hear Matthew in the hall. "Are you ready, Dom?"
"Ready? You were only gone for two days, let's not get crazy."
"Still, I hope you're ready to have your mind blown. And your dick."
"Oh my god, less talking, more fucking, will you just get in here and why does your voice sound muffled ohmygod-" Anything else Dominic had been about to say was lost when Matthew finally crossed over the threshold wearing something that Dominic had never seen Matthew wear before in his life.
The suit was like something out of a zombie apocalypse film. A garish shade of safety yellow, it was made of what looked like an incredibly durable material which made a plastic-y, squelchy sound when Matthew walked. Bulky black gloves covered his hands Topping it off, literally as well as figuratively, was the helmet, or, well, Dominic wasn't sure what it was to be honest, but he was sure that Matthew looked like a fucking tool in it. Just as he was about to speak, Matthew took off the helmet-headpiece-thing and gasped for air.
"Fuck, the helmet is a bit much. Smells like ass in there, which makes no sense when you think about it unless someone had this on their ass and why on earth would anyone do that, it's not an ass helmet. Wait, do ass helmets exist?"
"What. The fuck. Are you wearing?" Dominic said quietly, shaking his head in sheer wonder.
"Hold up a sec. Hmm, can't unzip it, but... I think I can still get my dick out while in this thing, let me see." Matthew looked down at his crotch, frowning as he took off the gloves. It held evidence of his arousal, which was poking into the fabric, straining to be released from its confines. He suddenly snapped his fingers in victory and ran to the bathroom to retrieve a pair of small scissors. Dominic watched, arms crossed, as Matthew carefully, gingerly, cut a hole into the yellow material, just enough for his dick to poke through. "There we go, now I'm ready to fucking ball, let's do this, Dom. I am ready for sex, my friend."
"Explain, idiot."
Matthew looked up and blinked at Dominic, shooting the drummer his classic 'well, duh, isn't it obvious Dom?!' look. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, enunciating every word as though he were speaking to a child. "It's a hazmat suit. It protects the wearer from chemical spills, radioactive fallout and the like."
"No shit. Why the fuck do you have one, and wait, wait, knowing you, this isn't merely a costume, I bet it's an actual, factual-"
"Military grade," Matthew announced proudly.
"I swear it's like living with a five year old."
"Well, you're the one who clearly applied some sort of nuclear-powered chemical to your hair or something, seeing as how you've managed to achieve such a... what's the word... blinding shade of white on top of your head. How the fuck do I know if it's safe or not to be in your immediate vicinity? I reckon that this way, you can ride me and I won't be exposed to any potentially dangerous fallout from your hair."
"Jesus, you have finally lost your goddamned mind," Dominic whispered, eyes wide.
"How precisely did you get hold of weapons-grade uranium to begin with? And why didn't you see if I wanted anything while you were at it?" Matthew asked, hands gesturing wildly. "I mean, come on."
"I'm calling your mother."
"What?"
"I'm curious to find out if you were ever dropped on your head as a small child."
"No need, I already asked her, it was on my arse and I was three. But, listen, it'll be hot, Dom, like I'm fucking a superhero. Instead of The Toxic Avenger, you'll be like The Nuclear Fucktoy, or something. The Radioactive Whore, maybe."
"Matthew."
"It'll be like I'm conducting a classified nuclear probe. My dick could save humanity in the event of a nuclear meltdown, just think of the power I'd have over the world."
"I swear to god if you don't shut your goddamned mouth-"
"Classified, Dom. And, remember, you can't have 'classified' without 'ass'. I mean arse. Shit, wait."
Dominic actually was shocked into silence at this point, his eyes glazing over as he watched Matthew pick up the helmet and sniff the inside of it
Just then, Matthew burst out laughing. Well, laughing might not be the word, cackling was probably more appropriate, but either way, whatever it was, it seemed to go on and on and on. Dominic sighed, allowing his lover to enjoy his little joke. He yawned and looked at his watch, doing his best to look bored, but apparently Matthew had realized that his attempt at a joke might not have been as funny as he'd thought it was.
"I was just picking on you, come on, Dom, how long have you known me, are you really surprised? Besides, consider it payback for the coloring books and crayons you bought me last month just because I said I liked playing with red glitter and glue. I mean, show me a grown man who doesn't like playing with glitter."
"I don't like playing with glitter."
"Shut up."
"You're utterly maddening," Dominic grumbled.
Matthew was still wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh, my god, the look on your face when I walked into the room, I swear, you have no idea how much I get off on that, Dom. Jesusfuck, I love winding you up. I love you, so much. I don't care what color your hair is, or if it all falls out or whatever." He looked, hopefully, into Dominic's eyes and wiggled his eyebrows, until finally Dominic melted, shaking his head.
"You're a fucking lunatic, you know. But, I love you too."
Matthew climbed into Dominic's lap, his arms winding around Dominic's neck. "Are you very angry with me?" He leaned in for a kiss, Dominic smiling softly into it. For all the ways that Matthew Bellamy drove him mad, Dominic couldn't imagine him any other way. His batshit crazy moments were more than balanced out by the moments he's proven over and over again how much Dominic means to him, by the countless moments he's shown himself to be loyal, loving, and kind.
Life with Matthew Bellamy was never dull, that was for certain.
"No. Not angry," he replied against Matthew's lips.
"Are you happy with your hair?"
Dominic nodded. "Yeah."
"Then I am too. Simple as that," Matthew whispered.
Sex was eventually had, after the offending hazmat suit had been peeled from Matthew's body and put straight into a bin, that is.
Dominic smiled as he fell asleep afterwards, because he and he alone knew that while he'd been in the bathroom just a few minutes ago, he'd poured the contents of an entire bottle of peroxide into Matthew's shampoo bottle.
And his conditioner.
(Just to be sure.)
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Matthew/Dominic
Rating: R
Here There Be: Language, crack!fic.
Summary: One possible reaction that Matthew could have had to Dominic's recent hair color. Maybe. Perhaps.
Disclaimer: I don't own Matt or Dom, no profit is being made, and this is fiction.
Beta/Support: amusedinred - thanks for the emergency beta read! :)
Author's Note: Complete and total crackfic. As always, if you choose to read, thank you, so much. I hope you enjoy.
Dominic had become adept at a lot of things in his admittedly young life. Drumming, of course, would have to top that particular list, of course, but right beneath it would be his Brie eating skills, not to mention his uncanny ability to reduce most Muse fans to a quivering mess with a simple smile.
Today, though, Dominic was practicing perfecting something else entirely: the selfie.
If anyone had seen him, there in his bathroom, his phone in hand, they may very well have giggled a bit, because he was taking this particular photo very, very seriously. With each shot his facial expression changed. Sometimes his tongue would peek out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Other times he'd stare seductively into the camera and purse his lips, but nearly every time he attempted that particular pose he just collapsed into laughter. He'd already deleted twenty seven unacceptable shots, but apparently Number Twenty Eight was the lucky one, because he saved it and grinned to himself as he strolled back into the den.
He inserted the photo into a text message to a certain recipient, along with this text: Dye job complete! When are you coming home? Bored and horny. x
Dominic didn't get a reply straightaway. He'd put his phone on the settee and had just closed his eyes for a nap when it buzzed, alerting him of Matthew's reply: Well done. It's very... bright! I'll be back tomorrow night, seven or so. Don't be wearing clothes when I get there. Miss you. x
Satisfied, Dominic grinned to himself as he leafed through some drum magazines and ordered a pizza.
He was nothing if not capable of following instructions, and so, when he heard activity in the foyer the next night right around seven o'clock, he launched himself, naked, toward the bed he and Matthew shared and dove onto it, bouncing on the blue duvet, his necklace clinking in the silence of the room.
"Dom?" a voice called out, "you here?"
"Where the fuck else would I be? Get up here."
Dominic got no reply; instead he simply got a series of manic, Bellamy-style giggles, which, if he was honest, Dominic never got tired of. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dominic could hear Matthew in the hall. "Are you ready, Dom?"
"Ready? You were only gone for two days, let's not get crazy."
"Still, I hope you're ready to have your mind blown. And your dick."
"Oh my god, less talking, more fucking, will you just get in here and why does your voice sound muffled ohmygod-" Anything else Dominic had been about to say was lost when Matthew finally crossed over the threshold wearing something that Dominic had never seen Matthew wear before in his life.
The suit was like something out of a zombie apocalypse film. A garish shade of safety yellow, it was made of what looked like an incredibly durable material which made a plastic-y, squelchy sound when Matthew walked. Bulky black gloves covered his hands Topping it off, literally as well as figuratively, was the helmet, or, well, Dominic wasn't sure what it was to be honest, but he was sure that Matthew looked like a fucking tool in it. Just as he was about to speak, Matthew took off the helmet-headpiece-thing and gasped for air.
"Fuck, the helmet is a bit much. Smells like ass in there, which makes no sense when you think about it unless someone had this on their ass and why on earth would anyone do that, it's not an ass helmet. Wait, do ass helmets exist?"
"What. The fuck. Are you wearing?" Dominic said quietly, shaking his head in sheer wonder.
"Hold up a sec. Hmm, can't unzip it, but... I think I can still get my dick out while in this thing, let me see." Matthew looked down at his crotch, frowning as he took off the gloves. It held evidence of his arousal, which was poking into the fabric, straining to be released from its confines. He suddenly snapped his fingers in victory and ran to the bathroom to retrieve a pair of small scissors. Dominic watched, arms crossed, as Matthew carefully, gingerly, cut a hole into the yellow material, just enough for his dick to poke through. "There we go, now I'm ready to fucking ball, let's do this, Dom. I am ready for sex, my friend."
"Explain, idiot."
Matthew looked up and blinked at Dominic, shooting the drummer his classic 'well, duh, isn't it obvious Dom?!' look. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, enunciating every word as though he were speaking to a child. "It's a hazmat suit. It protects the wearer from chemical spills, radioactive fallout and the like."
"No shit. Why the fuck do you have one, and wait, wait, knowing you, this isn't merely a costume, I bet it's an actual, factual-"
"Military grade," Matthew announced proudly.
"I swear it's like living with a five year old."
"Well, you're the one who clearly applied some sort of nuclear-powered chemical to your hair or something, seeing as how you've managed to achieve such a... what's the word... blinding shade of white on top of your head. How the fuck do I know if it's safe or not to be in your immediate vicinity? I reckon that this way, you can ride me and I won't be exposed to any potentially dangerous fallout from your hair."
"Jesus, you have finally lost your goddamned mind," Dominic whispered, eyes wide.
"How precisely did you get hold of weapons-grade uranium to begin with? And why didn't you see if I wanted anything while you were at it?" Matthew asked, hands gesturing wildly. "I mean, come on."
"I'm calling your mother."
"What?"
"I'm curious to find out if you were ever dropped on your head as a small child."
"No need, I already asked her, it was on my arse and I was three. But, listen, it'll be hot, Dom, like I'm fucking a superhero. Instead of The Toxic Avenger, you'll be like The Nuclear Fucktoy, or something. The Radioactive Whore, maybe."
"Matthew."
"It'll be like I'm conducting a classified nuclear probe. My dick could save humanity in the event of a nuclear meltdown, just think of the power I'd have over the world."
"I swear to god if you don't shut your goddamned mouth-"
"Classified, Dom. And, remember, you can't have 'classified' without 'ass'. I mean arse. Shit, wait."
Dominic actually was shocked into silence at this point, his eyes glazing over as he watched Matthew pick up the helmet and sniff the inside of it
Just then, Matthew burst out laughing. Well, laughing might not be the word, cackling was probably more appropriate, but either way, whatever it was, it seemed to go on and on and on. Dominic sighed, allowing his lover to enjoy his little joke. He yawned and looked at his watch, doing his best to look bored, but apparently Matthew had realized that his attempt at a joke might not have been as funny as he'd thought it was.
"I was just picking on you, come on, Dom, how long have you known me, are you really surprised? Besides, consider it payback for the coloring books and crayons you bought me last month just because I said I liked playing with red glitter and glue. I mean, show me a grown man who doesn't like playing with glitter."
"I don't like playing with glitter."
"Shut up."
"You're utterly maddening," Dominic grumbled.
Matthew was still wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh, my god, the look on your face when I walked into the room, I swear, you have no idea how much I get off on that, Dom. Jesusfuck, I love winding you up. I love you, so much. I don't care what color your hair is, or if it all falls out or whatever." He looked, hopefully, into Dominic's eyes and wiggled his eyebrows, until finally Dominic melted, shaking his head.
"You're a fucking lunatic, you know. But, I love you too."
Matthew climbed into Dominic's lap, his arms winding around Dominic's neck. "Are you very angry with me?" He leaned in for a kiss, Dominic smiling softly into it. For all the ways that Matthew Bellamy drove him mad, Dominic couldn't imagine him any other way. His batshit crazy moments were more than balanced out by the moments he's proven over and over again how much Dominic means to him, by the countless moments he's shown himself to be loyal, loving, and kind.
Life with Matthew Bellamy was never dull, that was for certain.
"No. Not angry," he replied against Matthew's lips.
"Are you happy with your hair?"
Dominic nodded. "Yeah."
"Then I am too. Simple as that," Matthew whispered.
Sex was eventually had, after the offending hazmat suit had been peeled from Matthew's body and put straight into a bin, that is.
Dominic smiled as he fell asleep afterwards, because he and he alone knew that while he'd been in the bathroom just a few minutes ago, he'd poured the contents of an entire bottle of peroxide into Matthew's shampoo bottle.
And his conditioner.
(Just to be sure.)