Swapped (1/2)
Matt Bellamy looked at himself in the large, full-length dressing room mirror and scrutinized his reflection. He studied the way his arse looked in the tight black skinnies wrapped around his lower half before moving his blue gaze upwards to check his top half. He pulled at the collar of the pink, animal-print long sleeved shirt he wore and squinted at his reflection.
“’Don’t know about the shirt,” he mumbled as he twisted his body around to get a different view. He ran his hand over the buttons, liking the way their pearly surfaces felt beneath his fingers. The shirt wasn’t really him. He felt ridiculous in the bloody thing, but it was part of the agreement he made with drummer Dominic Howard, so he kept the shirt on.
Unsatisfied with his shirt, but unwilling to change, Matt looked down at his shoes. The shoes had been the most difficult part of his ensemble; he couldn’t find a pair of Chuck Taylor’s in his size in the wardrobe, so he’d sent Tom Kirk out to buy him a pair of black Converse All-Stars at the last minute. The shoes were going to leave blisters on Matt’s feet, but he knew that his outfit wouldn’t be complete without the signature Chucks.
“Matt! Matt, are you about done in there?” Chris Wolstenholme called from the corridor. He pounded on the dressing room door a few times for emphasis.
“Er…” Matt looked at his reflection and realized he looked like a complete pillock. He knew that when he stepped onstage, the fans were either going to laugh themselves sick or cheer louder than they ever had before, but he didn’t quite know if their reaction was worth looking quite this…gay. “I don’t know, Chris. The trousers are one thing, and the shoes, but…this shirt. And…the hair. I have…fluffy bangs, mate.”
“I’m sure you look fine, stop worrying,” said Chris with a roll of his eyes. He took a deep breath and realized it was time to use his best fatherly tone on one of his best, oldest mates. “I’ll go check on Dom, and when I come back, I’d better see you in the hallway, young man.”
“Fuck off,” Matt grumbled from inside the dressing room.
Chris laughed and as he turned to leave, shouted over his shoulder: “Just be glad it’s not the wetsuit, you stupid wanker!”
Matt shivered at the thought of his body encased in Dom’s charcoal-silver Lycra monstrosity and suddenly felt thankful that Dom had not felt quite that sadistic when they made their original agreement.
“Hopefully,” said Matt to his reflection, which he peered at from beneath long, floppy bangs, “Dom looks more ridiculous than I do.”
**
In the dressing room next door to where Matt Bellamy was holed up, Dominic Howard also stood and contemplated his reflection. He looked at his hair, scrutinizing the honey-colored locks that he’d tousled and then slicked up with Dax wax. He didn’t actually recall the last time anyone in the band had used wax in their hair, let alone Matt, but it did the job and held Dom’s ‘sexy’ bedhead in place. Dom didn’t remember the last time his hair looked so short or had been so spiky; it had to have been five or six years at least, but it looked far better than Dom expected.
Pleased with his hairstyle, Dom’s grey-blue eyes traveled along the line of his reflection and paused at the t-shirt stretched over his torso. The shirt was a tight fit, hugging Dom’s shoulders and upper arms and showing off the physique sculpted by years of drumming. His gaze slipped down to study the veins that pushed in protest against the golden skin of his arms. He wanted to trace those lines like Matt used to when they were younger but he didn’t have enough time to do the intricate work justice, so he left his arms bare.
The dressing room door opened and Dom looked into the mirror to watch Chris enter the room. Chris stopped short in the doorway and looked at the drummer with arched brows.
“Shit,” Dom muttered, taking in the look on Chris’ face. “Do I look that bad, really?”
Chris shook his head. “You look good, Dom. I think you wear that better than Matt ever did. But…it’s missing something.”
Dom turned his head to the side and checked his reflection. He was fully dressed, his hair was carefully styled, and he’d even nicked Matt’s black plectrum necklace from the tour bus to complete the look. “I’m not wearing bloody eyeliner, Chris.”
Chris laughed and began walking towards the large wardrobe, which was spread out along one interior hallway for easy access. He returned a few minutes holding a large crimson coat at arm’s distance.
“The demon crow coat?” whined Dom as he looked at the garment Chris held away from his body as though it were toxic. He wasn’t a stranger to Matt’s feathery monstrosity, not by any means, but that didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed wearing the coat nightmares were made of.
“Hurry up, Dom, and just put the bloody thing on,” Chris huffed as he walked towards the door, “and then meet us in the hallway. And don’t bother looking in the mirror again; we all know you’re beautiful.”
”Oh, piss off,” said Dom as he pulled the coat from the hanger. “Hopefully, Matt looks more ridiculous than I do.”
**
Ten minutes later the trio congregated in the wings to watch the last few moments of the opening act. Matt and Chris chatted while Dom stayed behind them and limbered up. He tried to look around backstage, but his eyes kept wandering back to Matt. Dom normally had a problem looking away from Matt, even the fans had picked up on as much, but it seemed especially difficult now since Matt wore Dom’s clothing. He liked seeing Matt in his clothing because in a way it showed possession; if Matt wore Dom’s clothing and smelled like Dom’s scent then in a way he was Dom’s.
Dom curled his fingers around the drumsticks, squeezing tight to resist the urge to run his fingers through Matt’s soft, floppy dark hair. It was too dangerous, there were too many people around, gossipy roadies and fans with cell phones, for Dom to indulge and play a little game with Matt. That’s all any of it was with Matt, a game, a game that began as a joke and a way to pass the time but somehow became something Dom craved more than anything else.
Dom clenched his fingers again, sighed, and began rapping his drumsticks against a nearby wall.
Matt twisted his body in the direction of Dom’s spontaneous drumming and smiled a small smirk of enjoyment. He loved looking at Dom; he loved studying the way the blonde moved, walked, talked, laughed…there were few things more beautiful to Matt than Dom, laughing. And of course, while Matt looked ridiculous in Dom’s clothing, Dom looked amazing in Matt’s own trousers and blood red coat.
He cut his blue eyes to the side, peeking at the slender drummer from beneath his fluffy black bangs. Matt caught Dom’s silver gaze, which caused his stomach pitch and his mouth grow dry. Dom stepped away from the wall and moved towards Matt in a shock of red, and Matt’s smile grew. He always seemed to be smiling at Dom, to the point where he knew he looked completely mental, but it was a natural reaction-seeing Dom made him smile. He turned innocently away from Dom and focused his attention on the back of Chris’ head.
Dom stepped up behind Matt, ducking his head so his mouth brushed against the topmost curve of Matt’s left ear. “You look good in my clothing, Little One, but you’ll look even better out of it.” He casually let one hand skim across Matt’s bum, making it look as accidental as possible.
Matt bit down on his bottom lip at the brush of Dom’s fingers against his backside. He both hated and loved the way the slightest, most innocent of touches caused his whole body to react, but what he equally detested and adored was Dom’s silly, secret nickname for him, the one he had used since they were in school. Twisting up his face in a look of disgust, he grumbled, “I hate it when you call me that.”
Dom laughed softly in Matt’s ear and watched proudly as Matt tensed up in response. “No, you don’t. If I were anyone else taking the piss out of your size, then you’d hate it. But it’s me and you know you like being Little One.”
“You’re a twat, Dom,” Matt sighed, even as a smile replaced the grimace on his face. He liked the nickname, but pretending to despise it was all part of their little game. Glancing down at the ridiculous animal-print pattern on his shirt, he realized that in a few minutes thousands of screaming fans would see him in a bright pink leopard-print shirt. “I can’t believe I agreed to do this, you arsehole.”
“You look great,” Dom reassured him, “and besides, the fans will love it.”
“Dom, two minutes!” called the stage manager.
Dom smiled and called out a cheerful ‘okay!’ in response, but he didn’t make a move towards the edge of the stage. Instead, he leaned forward until the tip of his nose rested against the back of Matt’s head and was nestled in his fluffy black hair. Dom drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Matt’s shampoo and cologne, and shivered. Matt mewled in reply and pushed back against Dom’s nose, arching his body by only a fraction, and Dom pushed his fingers out from inside his coat sleeve to run them along Matt’s ribs.
Matt sucked a breath in through his crooked teeth and bowed his neck, causing Dom’s nose to sink further into Matt’s hair. All Matt wanted to do was grab Dom’s teasing hand, push it against his fly, and grind the calloused palm against his cock, which became hard the moment Dom stepped up behind him.
“Dom,” Matt whispered, trying valiantly to keep his body still and his gaze locked on the back of Chris’ head. “Dom, touch me…just a little. Please.”
Dom laughed; there were few things in life more spectacular than hearing Matt Bellamy beg.
He looked around for prying eyes, found that most everyone had wandered off, and stealthily slipped his hand under the pink leopard-print shirt Matt wore. He quickly found the hard curve of Matt’s hipbone and he brushed his fingers across the groove where it joined with his torso, a super-sensitive area that Dom loved to lave with his tongue when given the chance to do things properly. Matt’s skin turned to gooseflesh under the whorls of Dom’s fingertips and Dom smiled against Matt’s hair.
“Dom, sixty seconds!”
Dom pulled his hand out from beneath the leopard print shirt and took a large step away from Matt. Matt, in turn, whipped his head around at the sudden loss of contact.
“I said to fucking touch me,” he hissed.
Dom grinned, which only infuriated Matt further. “Yeah…but you said ‘touch me a little’, so I did.”
Matt scowled and as Dom passed him, he spat, “That’s not what I fucking meant, wanker.”
“I know exactly what you meant, Little One,” answered Dom, “and I’ll know exactly what you mean in two hours when you’re saying it again.”
“Not bloody likely,” Matt huffed at Dom’s retreating figure, although both men knew that Matt begging Dom yet again was incredibly likely. Just to feel better about himself, he shouted “Arsehole!” at Dom’s crimson-colored back.
Matt heard Chris chuckle and he delivered a weak punch to his upper arm as moved to stand next to him and watch Dom get the crowd warmed up.
“Glad you think this is funny, Chris. You’re not the one going out there dressed like…like…like Dom.”
Chris pointed to his own ensemble, a Captain America costume. “No, I’m going out there dressed like a man.”
Matt snorted and rolled his eyes. He looked away from Chris and towards Dom, who stood in front of Matt’s usual microphone and talked to the crowd. It was a new strategy they’d employed for their brief American tour to go along with their new, deconstructed stage setup and playlist of older favorites. Dom mumbled something about his Halloween costume and Matt looked up just in time to see Dom look his way and strip off the demon crow coat, revealing a skintight pair of black trousers, a white shirt, and two shining black braces.
“He’s wearing braces!” Matt hissed as his heart began to pound against his chest. Seeing Dom in his clothing and more specifically, the same braces Dom once loved to grab and use as leverage when shoving Matt against the wall, caused Matt’s whole body to flush with excitement. “That wanker’s got on my bloody braces! I get stuck with bloody pink leopard print and he’s wearing braces!”
Dom, possibly hearing Matt’s frustrated shouts, chose that moment to look over at Matt. He winked one grey-blue eye at the guitarist and ran his hands over the slick black braces, angling his left hand so the curve of his palm passed over his left nipple. Dom watched Matt bite down on his bottom lip and Dom laughed as his eyes quickly trailed over Matt’s body and lingered for a moment on the tight bulge in his trousers. The longer Dom stood out there in Matt’s clothing, enjoying the shouts of the crowd and Matt’s electric blue gaze, the more inspired he became by the whole situation. If the clothes truly made the man, then Dom had plenty of ideas on how he was going to spend his night dressed as Matt Bellamy, and every single one of them involved the real Matt Bellamy.
Now, if only he could make it through the next hour and a half…
***
Dominic pushed the exit doors open with two outstretched hands, causing the door to swing wide and then wiggle in his wake. He saw a group of fans lingering across the street with cameras pointed his way and he knew that he should stop and at least wave, especially since God only knew how long they’d been waiting for the band. Muse fans were some of the best fans he’d encountered anywhere and he’d always feel grateful to them for their key role in the band’s success, but at that moment, he wanted nothing to do with them and he certainly didn’t want them anywhere near what he was planning on doing with, and to, Matt.
The fans were shouting his name, but Dom kept his head low and focused on the concrete path that stretched between the side exit and the door to the tour bus. He walked briskly towards the bus, almost running, in his excitement to get inside. He felt a pang of guilt for ignoring the fans that had waited so patiently and were so excited, but his guilt disappeared once he was in the bus and realized that shortly, Matt would be joining him inside so their little game could continue…
Dom paced the length of the forward living area and waited for Matt to arrive. They’d barely spoken during the gig and the only words they exchanged afterward consisted of Dom’s harsh, husky command against Matt’s ear in passing: “Tour bus. Twenty minutes. And don’t be late, Little One.”
Dom still felt a bit doubtful that Matt would actually follow directions since he loved to antagonize Dom more than anything else in life, but Dom moved around the bus anyway, lowering blinds and dimming the lights. He had to be out of his mind to be creating a seduction scene with thirty or so fans huddled across the street, but the idea of dominating Matt so thoroughly with a crowd faithful Musers outside only intensified the aching pull on Dominic’s swollen cock.
A swell of screaming rose from the street and Dominic grinned as the fans called out Matt’s name. He leaned against the counter opposite the door and lazily dragged the heel of his palm over his erection, causing his whole body to shudder. Just as Dom began another lazy downward stroke, the door flew open and Matt stormed into the coach, his blue eyes flashing with frustration.
Matt slammed the door closed and shot Dom a withering look. “I’m here. What was so important?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting Dom’s answer, and his eyes softened as they wandered over Dominic’s body. His tongue swept over his lips at the sight of the drummer, sweaty and spent and wearing Matt’s clothing. When the frustrating blonde didn’t answer, Matt tried again. “Dom?”
Dominic gave Matt a predatory grin and walked towards him, laughing a bit when Matt backed up against the tour bus door like prey, his eyes darkening and pupils dilating as he moved, making him look like prey. Dom loved it when Matt looked so vulnerable. The façade of Matt Bellamy from Muse didn’t fall away for many people, but when it did, the sight of the man behind the image made Dominic feel both grateful and overwhelmed.
A surge of possessiveness pushed through him at the sight of Matt looking so pure and vulnerable. Dom took a few steps and closed the distance between their bodies. He stood flush against Matt for a moment, letting the other man feel the heat and pressure of his body. After a moment, Dom reached for Matt, forking the fingers of one hand through Matt’s ebony hair while the other grappled with the top button of the pink leopard-print shirt.
In response, Matt tipped his head back, exposing his neck. Even as his body reacted and wavered under Dom’s touch, his mind protested. He could hear the fans screaming outside and the idea that he and Dom were about to snog, and probably more, with their fans across the street was unsettling.
“Dom,” he sighed against Dom’s golden neck, trying to resist even as his eyelids fluttered closed, “I…I don’t know if this‘s a good idea. There are fans outside and…”
Dom finished unbuttoning the pink leopard-print shirt that Matt wore, pushed the sagging fabric aside, and placed one hand on Matt’s smooth chest. Matt’s muscles tensed beneath Dom’s touch as Dom’s fingers fanned out across Matt’s ribs and stomach. He twined the fingers of his left hand into Matt’s hair and used the wet strands to pull Matt’s face against his own. Dom gave Matt’s wonky front tooth a loving lick before stabbing his way inside Matt’s mouth.
Matt’s lips parted as his hands gripped the tight white shirt clinging to Dom’s body. He welcomed Dom’s rough, slick tongue and responded eagerly, thrusting and twisting his own tongue in a battle for control. He felt Dom’s full, delicious lips close around his tongue and Matt cried out as Dom began to suck Matt’s tongue into his mouth; there were few things that got Matt as hard as quickly as Dom giving his tongue a good, slippery sucking. He enthusiastically bucked his hips up, aching to feel his arousal sliding against Dom’s, but when their hips touched, Dom broke the kiss and left Matt panting.
“They can’t see us,” Dom said, gasping as he pulled away from Matt’s sticky mouth. For emphasis, he let his hand trail down Matt’s stomach to rest against the bulge pressed against his fly. “They can’t hear us.” He gave Matt’s arousal a squeeze while biting down on Matt’s swollen bottom lip, causing him to cry out. “So relax, baby, and enjoy.”
Matt smiled crookedly and reached for Dom, gripping his tousled blonde hair to bring him close. He lifted his right leg and brushed it against Dom’s hip, trying to use it for leverage so he could lock his leg around the drummer’s waist. He felt one of his braces brush against his leg as he lifted it up and was reminded that Dom was wearing his clothing. He wrapped his hand around one dangling strap and gave it a yank as he mumbled against Dom’s throat.
“Dom…you look so good in my clothing. Want you so much…just want to fuck you. All night long, I just wanted to shove my cock into your arse.”
Dom laughed as Matt’s crooked teeth nibbled at his throat; he didn’t laugh because what he found Matt said to be amusing, but rather because Matt had no idea how wrong he was about what was in store for him that night.
“I think I got that part…it was kind of obvious when you rode my bass drum like a filthy whore.”
“I’m hardly a filthy whore,” Matt answered as he bit down on the skin below Dom’s Adam’s apple. “You’re the filthy whore, dressing up in my clothing and sitting back there, moaning and sweating like the cock tease you are. And in my fucking braces, too! Those fucking braces drove me mad.”
“I know,” Dom laughed. He dipped his head and flicked his tongue out to trace the shell of Matt’s left ear. “That was the point. It’s all part of the game, Matt.” He slipped his left hand from Matt’s cock and instead palmed Matt’s fantastic arse, reveling in the way the singer wiggled and mewled in reply.
Matt pulled his lips from Dom’s neck and glowered up at him. He was growing tired of Dom’s little games, especially since Dom had an annoying way of wresting control away from him. “You and your bloody games, Dom! I dressed up like you and looked ridiculous in front of thousands of people because you wanted to play a game! You’re a cunt, you know that?”
Dom palmed Matt’s arse again, this time extending his middle finger to run teasingly against the seam that ran between his arse cheeks. His tongue swept inside Matt’s ear and he laughed huskily when Matt shivered beneath him.
>“Seeing you dressed like me, Little One, makes so me so hard. Can’t you feel it?” He pushed his hips against Matt’s, grinding his cock into the cleft of Matt’s pelvis. “And being dressed like you gives me so many ideas…I’m dressed like you…I want to be you.”
“You want to be me? What, you want to sing?”
Dom laughed and reached for the button of his trousers, which fit snugly around Matt’s slender hips and hugged his cock in the most becoming way. He pulled the copper button through the eyehole and then pinched the zipper pull between his thumb and index finger.
“No, I don’t want to sing. You bloody well know I can’t. I want to be you. I want to undress you and I want to fuck you, and I want you to call me Matt while I do it. Can you do that, Dominic?”
Matt looked into Dom’s eyes and marveled at how dark and desire-filled they seemed to be. Matt couldn’t recall ever seeing Dom’s eyes so dark or imploring before as they begged him to play along, to submit, and Matt’s own desire to be controlled and submit to Dominic flared inside him. Obediently, he nodded, trying to look as demure and submissive as possible.
“Yes, M-Matt,” he answered with a giggle. He saw a tiny smile pull at the corners of Dom’s beautiful mouth. He swallowed and tried again, this time, as sternly as possible. “Yes, Matt, I can do that.”
“Such a good little slut you are, Dominic,” Dom breathed as he pulled Matt away from the door. He swung his head around, making sure every window was securely shuttered, and pulled Matt into the front room. He paused between the couch and the coffee table and reached for the fly of his trousers, noting with a smirk when Matt licked his lips expectantly. He eased the zipper down, revealing to Matt that he wore nothing beneath his black skinnies. “Get on your knees, Dom. Suck me like the whore you are.”
Matt hesitated until Dom pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to drop to his knees in front of Dom’s beautiful dripping cock. He could feel his own cock aching inside his trousers, but it didn’t matter; the only thing he wanted was the drummer’s cock in his mouth.
“Suck it,” Dom said, gripping Matt’s dark hair with both hands. “But don’t swallow when I cum between your lips. I want to see my cum in your pretty mouth and then I want some for myself.”
“You’re a kinky fucker, Matt Bellamy,” Matt giggled as he wrapped his long fingers around Dom’s cock. Dom’s skin felt fantastic, so hot and velvety within Matt’s fingers and he gave the thick length a firm, tentative stroke, but didn’t pull the dripping length into his mouth.
When Matt made no move to start sucking, Dom sank his fingers into Matt’s hair and flattened his hands forcefully against Matt’s scalp, cupping the back of the singer’s head with his fingers and palms. Matt still didn’t move. Dom gave a frustrated grunt and yanked on Matt’s damp hair.
“I told you to suck me, Howard,” Dom spat. If Matt wasn’t going to cooperate, then Dom was going to make him cooperate. He took his cock in his left hand and pushed the weeping slit across Matt’s mouth, causing Matt’s lips to shine with Dom’s pre-come. “Open up, you cocksucking whore.”
Matt was dying to open his mouth and suck on Dom’s cock, but there was something so alluring in Dom’s hoarse voice, something darkly seductive about his hooded eyes, that made Matt want to see more and feel more before giving in to the blonde above him. He stopped stroking Dom’s cock and tilted his head to the side to look at Dom through spidery black lashes; when he met Dom’s eyes, he challenged, “Make me, Matt. You’re the frontman, aren’t you? Put your drummer in his place.”
“What a cheeky whore. Here, use my cock to keep your defiant mouth shut.” Dom pushed the tip of his cock between Matt’s lips, moaning when Matt’s tongue flickered over his sensitive slit.
Matt slipped one pale hand around to grip Dom’s arse as his mouth bobbed up and down on Dom’s cock, first licking, and then kissing, and finally sucking gleefully. He hummed as he worked along Dom’s length, moaning and groaning when he hollowed his cheeks to suck on Dom’s dripping tip. As he worked his lips and tongue along Dom’s cock, Matt trailed his fingertips between Dom’s arse cheeks; when he felt Dom’s muscles tighten around his fingers, Matt casually explored the smooth cleft, making sure to tease Dom’s arsehole with his finger tips.
“Fuck,” Dom panted as his head fell back. He wiggled a bit against Matt’s intrusive fingers. “Don’t be a fucking tease…finger fuck me, you dirty blonde bitch.”
Matt let Dom’s cock slide from his mouth as he brought his hand towards his lips. He spit on his fingers and held them up for Dom, making sure he could see the saliva and pre-cum that drooled down from his fingertips and over his knuckles.
Dom reached out suddenly and grasped Matt’s wrist, forcing the dripping fingers against his arsehole. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head as Matt pushed one slick finger inside; Matt’s talents with his fingers went far beyond the guitar and piano, and Dom felt half crazy with need for those fingers to be buried inside of him.
Gleefully sucking and slurping Dom’s cock, Matt began working two fingers in and out of Dom’s tight hole. Dom felt amazing around Matt’s fingers, so hot and tight, and Matt twisted his fingers as he drilled them into Dom’s arse, timing the tempo with the bobbing movements of his head.
Dom began rocking against Matt’s hungry mouth as hot, throbbing pleasure began coiling in his belly. All night he’d been waiting for this; with every hit and crash during the show, he imagined this, having Matt before him, sucking obediently until he came between those cherry red lips with a grunt, and now it was close to fruition.
“Oh, so good,” Dom groaned as he clutched the back of Matt’s head. His knees buckled as Matt gave his fingers a wicked twist, and then everything went silvery white before his eyes and he was coming, hot and hard in Matt’s mouth. He could hear Matt gagging on him, and that only made Dom thrust harder.
Dom looked down at Matt and the sight before him caused him to suck a sharp breath in between his teeth. Matt had, for once, followed instructions and knelt patiently before him, his swollen lips parted to reveal a mouth full of cum. Shock and excitement traveled through him as he stared into Matt’s mouth.
“Goddamn, Howard,” Dom breathed at last as he pulled Matt to his feet, “you’re such a fucking whore. Such an obedient slut, Dom. Now give me a taste.”
He kept Matt’s mouth open with his left hand and pulled him close with his right, and once their bodies were flush, Dom wasted no time in pushing his tongue into Matt’s mouth. A myriad of tastes exploded across Dom’s tongue as he plundered Matt’s mouth, sweeping up the salty tang of his own cum coupled with Matt’s sweet, cinnamon flavor. He pushed his tongue through the pool of cum, roughly brushing against Matt’s tongue, desperate for friction. He shivered when Matt moaned and answered in kind, kissing Dom sloppily until semen and saliva dripped between their clashing mouths.
The kisses slowed into a string of lazy pecks and nibbles. Dom broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Matt’s while his tongue traced the outline of Matt’s mouth to sweep up the last remaining bits of flavor.
“Mmm,” Matt sighed, his mind now turning to his own arousal, which had been neglected since he stepped into the bus, “is it my turn now?”
Dom smirked against Matt’s mouth and looked into the singer’s shining blue eyes.
“Oh, I’d say it’s your turn. Bend over and spread your arse cheeks. I want to see that pretty arsehole before I fuck it with my tongue.”
“’Don’t know about the shirt,” he mumbled as he twisted his body around to get a different view. He ran his hand over the buttons, liking the way their pearly surfaces felt beneath his fingers. The shirt wasn’t really him. He felt ridiculous in the bloody thing, but it was part of the agreement he made with drummer Dominic Howard, so he kept the shirt on.
Unsatisfied with his shirt, but unwilling to change, Matt looked down at his shoes. The shoes had been the most difficult part of his ensemble; he couldn’t find a pair of Chuck Taylor’s in his size in the wardrobe, so he’d sent Tom Kirk out to buy him a pair of black Converse All-Stars at the last minute. The shoes were going to leave blisters on Matt’s feet, but he knew that his outfit wouldn’t be complete without the signature Chucks.
“Matt! Matt, are you about done in there?” Chris Wolstenholme called from the corridor. He pounded on the dressing room door a few times for emphasis.
“Er…” Matt looked at his reflection and realized he looked like a complete pillock. He knew that when he stepped onstage, the fans were either going to laugh themselves sick or cheer louder than they ever had before, but he didn’t quite know if their reaction was worth looking quite this…gay. “I don’t know, Chris. The trousers are one thing, and the shoes, but…this shirt. And…the hair. I have…fluffy bangs, mate.”
“I’m sure you look fine, stop worrying,” said Chris with a roll of his eyes. He took a deep breath and realized it was time to use his best fatherly tone on one of his best, oldest mates. “I’ll go check on Dom, and when I come back, I’d better see you in the hallway, young man.”
“Fuck off,” Matt grumbled from inside the dressing room.
Chris laughed and as he turned to leave, shouted over his shoulder: “Just be glad it’s not the wetsuit, you stupid wanker!”
Matt shivered at the thought of his body encased in Dom’s charcoal-silver Lycra monstrosity and suddenly felt thankful that Dom had not felt quite that sadistic when they made their original agreement.
“Hopefully,” said Matt to his reflection, which he peered at from beneath long, floppy bangs, “Dom looks more ridiculous than I do.”
**
In the dressing room next door to where Matt Bellamy was holed up, Dominic Howard also stood and contemplated his reflection. He looked at his hair, scrutinizing the honey-colored locks that he’d tousled and then slicked up with Dax wax. He didn’t actually recall the last time anyone in the band had used wax in their hair, let alone Matt, but it did the job and held Dom’s ‘sexy’ bedhead in place. Dom didn’t remember the last time his hair looked so short or had been so spiky; it had to have been five or six years at least, but it looked far better than Dom expected.
Pleased with his hairstyle, Dom’s grey-blue eyes traveled along the line of his reflection and paused at the t-shirt stretched over his torso. The shirt was a tight fit, hugging Dom’s shoulders and upper arms and showing off the physique sculpted by years of drumming. His gaze slipped down to study the veins that pushed in protest against the golden skin of his arms. He wanted to trace those lines like Matt used to when they were younger but he didn’t have enough time to do the intricate work justice, so he left his arms bare.
The dressing room door opened and Dom looked into the mirror to watch Chris enter the room. Chris stopped short in the doorway and looked at the drummer with arched brows.
“Shit,” Dom muttered, taking in the look on Chris’ face. “Do I look that bad, really?”
Chris shook his head. “You look good, Dom. I think you wear that better than Matt ever did. But…it’s missing something.”
Dom turned his head to the side and checked his reflection. He was fully dressed, his hair was carefully styled, and he’d even nicked Matt’s black plectrum necklace from the tour bus to complete the look. “I’m not wearing bloody eyeliner, Chris.”
Chris laughed and began walking towards the large wardrobe, which was spread out along one interior hallway for easy access. He returned a few minutes holding a large crimson coat at arm’s distance.
“The demon crow coat?” whined Dom as he looked at the garment Chris held away from his body as though it were toxic. He wasn’t a stranger to Matt’s feathery monstrosity, not by any means, but that didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed wearing the coat nightmares were made of.
“Hurry up, Dom, and just put the bloody thing on,” Chris huffed as he walked towards the door, “and then meet us in the hallway. And don’t bother looking in the mirror again; we all know you’re beautiful.”
”Oh, piss off,” said Dom as he pulled the coat from the hanger. “Hopefully, Matt looks more ridiculous than I do.”
**
Ten minutes later the trio congregated in the wings to watch the last few moments of the opening act. Matt and Chris chatted while Dom stayed behind them and limbered up. He tried to look around backstage, but his eyes kept wandering back to Matt. Dom normally had a problem looking away from Matt, even the fans had picked up on as much, but it seemed especially difficult now since Matt wore Dom’s clothing. He liked seeing Matt in his clothing because in a way it showed possession; if Matt wore Dom’s clothing and smelled like Dom’s scent then in a way he was Dom’s.
Dom curled his fingers around the drumsticks, squeezing tight to resist the urge to run his fingers through Matt’s soft, floppy dark hair. It was too dangerous, there were too many people around, gossipy roadies and fans with cell phones, for Dom to indulge and play a little game with Matt. That’s all any of it was with Matt, a game, a game that began as a joke and a way to pass the time but somehow became something Dom craved more than anything else.
Dom clenched his fingers again, sighed, and began rapping his drumsticks against a nearby wall.
Matt twisted his body in the direction of Dom’s spontaneous drumming and smiled a small smirk of enjoyment. He loved looking at Dom; he loved studying the way the blonde moved, walked, talked, laughed…there were few things more beautiful to Matt than Dom, laughing. And of course, while Matt looked ridiculous in Dom’s clothing, Dom looked amazing in Matt’s own trousers and blood red coat.
He cut his blue eyes to the side, peeking at the slender drummer from beneath his fluffy black bangs. Matt caught Dom’s silver gaze, which caused his stomach pitch and his mouth grow dry. Dom stepped away from the wall and moved towards Matt in a shock of red, and Matt’s smile grew. He always seemed to be smiling at Dom, to the point where he knew he looked completely mental, but it was a natural reaction-seeing Dom made him smile. He turned innocently away from Dom and focused his attention on the back of Chris’ head.
Dom stepped up behind Matt, ducking his head so his mouth brushed against the topmost curve of Matt’s left ear. “You look good in my clothing, Little One, but you’ll look even better out of it.” He casually let one hand skim across Matt’s bum, making it look as accidental as possible.
Matt bit down on his bottom lip at the brush of Dom’s fingers against his backside. He both hated and loved the way the slightest, most innocent of touches caused his whole body to react, but what he equally detested and adored was Dom’s silly, secret nickname for him, the one he had used since they were in school. Twisting up his face in a look of disgust, he grumbled, “I hate it when you call me that.”
Dom laughed softly in Matt’s ear and watched proudly as Matt tensed up in response. “No, you don’t. If I were anyone else taking the piss out of your size, then you’d hate it. But it’s me and you know you like being Little One.”
“You’re a twat, Dom,” Matt sighed, even as a smile replaced the grimace on his face. He liked the nickname, but pretending to despise it was all part of their little game. Glancing down at the ridiculous animal-print pattern on his shirt, he realized that in a few minutes thousands of screaming fans would see him in a bright pink leopard-print shirt. “I can’t believe I agreed to do this, you arsehole.”
“You look great,” Dom reassured him, “and besides, the fans will love it.”
“Dom, two minutes!” called the stage manager.
Dom smiled and called out a cheerful ‘okay!’ in response, but he didn’t make a move towards the edge of the stage. Instead, he leaned forward until the tip of his nose rested against the back of Matt’s head and was nestled in his fluffy black hair. Dom drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Matt’s shampoo and cologne, and shivered. Matt mewled in reply and pushed back against Dom’s nose, arching his body by only a fraction, and Dom pushed his fingers out from inside his coat sleeve to run them along Matt’s ribs.
Matt sucked a breath in through his crooked teeth and bowed his neck, causing Dom’s nose to sink further into Matt’s hair. All Matt wanted to do was grab Dom’s teasing hand, push it against his fly, and grind the calloused palm against his cock, which became hard the moment Dom stepped up behind him.
“Dom,” Matt whispered, trying valiantly to keep his body still and his gaze locked on the back of Chris’ head. “Dom, touch me…just a little. Please.”
Dom laughed; there were few things in life more spectacular than hearing Matt Bellamy beg.
He looked around for prying eyes, found that most everyone had wandered off, and stealthily slipped his hand under the pink leopard-print shirt Matt wore. He quickly found the hard curve of Matt’s hipbone and he brushed his fingers across the groove where it joined with his torso, a super-sensitive area that Dom loved to lave with his tongue when given the chance to do things properly. Matt’s skin turned to gooseflesh under the whorls of Dom’s fingertips and Dom smiled against Matt’s hair.
“Dom, sixty seconds!”
Dom pulled his hand out from beneath the leopard print shirt and took a large step away from Matt. Matt, in turn, whipped his head around at the sudden loss of contact.
“I said to fucking touch me,” he hissed.
Dom grinned, which only infuriated Matt further. “Yeah…but you said ‘touch me a little’, so I did.”
Matt scowled and as Dom passed him, he spat, “That’s not what I fucking meant, wanker.”
“I know exactly what you meant, Little One,” answered Dom, “and I’ll know exactly what you mean in two hours when you’re saying it again.”
“Not bloody likely,” Matt huffed at Dom’s retreating figure, although both men knew that Matt begging Dom yet again was incredibly likely. Just to feel better about himself, he shouted “Arsehole!” at Dom’s crimson-colored back.
Matt heard Chris chuckle and he delivered a weak punch to his upper arm as moved to stand next to him and watch Dom get the crowd warmed up.
“Glad you think this is funny, Chris. You’re not the one going out there dressed like…like…like Dom.”
Chris pointed to his own ensemble, a Captain America costume. “No, I’m going out there dressed like a man.”
Matt snorted and rolled his eyes. He looked away from Chris and towards Dom, who stood in front of Matt’s usual microphone and talked to the crowd. It was a new strategy they’d employed for their brief American tour to go along with their new, deconstructed stage setup and playlist of older favorites. Dom mumbled something about his Halloween costume and Matt looked up just in time to see Dom look his way and strip off the demon crow coat, revealing a skintight pair of black trousers, a white shirt, and two shining black braces.
“He’s wearing braces!” Matt hissed as his heart began to pound against his chest. Seeing Dom in his clothing and more specifically, the same braces Dom once loved to grab and use as leverage when shoving Matt against the wall, caused Matt’s whole body to flush with excitement. “That wanker’s got on my bloody braces! I get stuck with bloody pink leopard print and he’s wearing braces!”
Dom, possibly hearing Matt’s frustrated shouts, chose that moment to look over at Matt. He winked one grey-blue eye at the guitarist and ran his hands over the slick black braces, angling his left hand so the curve of his palm passed over his left nipple. Dom watched Matt bite down on his bottom lip and Dom laughed as his eyes quickly trailed over Matt’s body and lingered for a moment on the tight bulge in his trousers. The longer Dom stood out there in Matt’s clothing, enjoying the shouts of the crowd and Matt’s electric blue gaze, the more inspired he became by the whole situation. If the clothes truly made the man, then Dom had plenty of ideas on how he was going to spend his night dressed as Matt Bellamy, and every single one of them involved the real Matt Bellamy.
Now, if only he could make it through the next hour and a half…
***
Dominic pushed the exit doors open with two outstretched hands, causing the door to swing wide and then wiggle in his wake. He saw a group of fans lingering across the street with cameras pointed his way and he knew that he should stop and at least wave, especially since God only knew how long they’d been waiting for the band. Muse fans were some of the best fans he’d encountered anywhere and he’d always feel grateful to them for their key role in the band’s success, but at that moment, he wanted nothing to do with them and he certainly didn’t want them anywhere near what he was planning on doing with, and to, Matt.
The fans were shouting his name, but Dom kept his head low and focused on the concrete path that stretched between the side exit and the door to the tour bus. He walked briskly towards the bus, almost running, in his excitement to get inside. He felt a pang of guilt for ignoring the fans that had waited so patiently and were so excited, but his guilt disappeared once he was in the bus and realized that shortly, Matt would be joining him inside so their little game could continue…
Dom paced the length of the forward living area and waited for Matt to arrive. They’d barely spoken during the gig and the only words they exchanged afterward consisted of Dom’s harsh, husky command against Matt’s ear in passing: “Tour bus. Twenty minutes. And don’t be late, Little One.”
Dom still felt a bit doubtful that Matt would actually follow directions since he loved to antagonize Dom more than anything else in life, but Dom moved around the bus anyway, lowering blinds and dimming the lights. He had to be out of his mind to be creating a seduction scene with thirty or so fans huddled across the street, but the idea of dominating Matt so thoroughly with a crowd faithful Musers outside only intensified the aching pull on Dominic’s swollen cock.
A swell of screaming rose from the street and Dominic grinned as the fans called out Matt’s name. He leaned against the counter opposite the door and lazily dragged the heel of his palm over his erection, causing his whole body to shudder. Just as Dom began another lazy downward stroke, the door flew open and Matt stormed into the coach, his blue eyes flashing with frustration.
Matt slammed the door closed and shot Dom a withering look. “I’m here. What was so important?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting Dom’s answer, and his eyes softened as they wandered over Dominic’s body. His tongue swept over his lips at the sight of the drummer, sweaty and spent and wearing Matt’s clothing. When the frustrating blonde didn’t answer, Matt tried again. “Dom?”
Dominic gave Matt a predatory grin and walked towards him, laughing a bit when Matt backed up against the tour bus door like prey, his eyes darkening and pupils dilating as he moved, making him look like prey. Dom loved it when Matt looked so vulnerable. The façade of Matt Bellamy from Muse didn’t fall away for many people, but when it did, the sight of the man behind the image made Dominic feel both grateful and overwhelmed.
A surge of possessiveness pushed through him at the sight of Matt looking so pure and vulnerable. Dom took a few steps and closed the distance between their bodies. He stood flush against Matt for a moment, letting the other man feel the heat and pressure of his body. After a moment, Dom reached for Matt, forking the fingers of one hand through Matt’s ebony hair while the other grappled with the top button of the pink leopard-print shirt.
In response, Matt tipped his head back, exposing his neck. Even as his body reacted and wavered under Dom’s touch, his mind protested. He could hear the fans screaming outside and the idea that he and Dom were about to snog, and probably more, with their fans across the street was unsettling.
“Dom,” he sighed against Dom’s golden neck, trying to resist even as his eyelids fluttered closed, “I…I don’t know if this‘s a good idea. There are fans outside and…”
Dom finished unbuttoning the pink leopard-print shirt that Matt wore, pushed the sagging fabric aside, and placed one hand on Matt’s smooth chest. Matt’s muscles tensed beneath Dom’s touch as Dom’s fingers fanned out across Matt’s ribs and stomach. He twined the fingers of his left hand into Matt’s hair and used the wet strands to pull Matt’s face against his own. Dom gave Matt’s wonky front tooth a loving lick before stabbing his way inside Matt’s mouth.
Matt’s lips parted as his hands gripped the tight white shirt clinging to Dom’s body. He welcomed Dom’s rough, slick tongue and responded eagerly, thrusting and twisting his own tongue in a battle for control. He felt Dom’s full, delicious lips close around his tongue and Matt cried out as Dom began to suck Matt’s tongue into his mouth; there were few things that got Matt as hard as quickly as Dom giving his tongue a good, slippery sucking. He enthusiastically bucked his hips up, aching to feel his arousal sliding against Dom’s, but when their hips touched, Dom broke the kiss and left Matt panting.
“They can’t see us,” Dom said, gasping as he pulled away from Matt’s sticky mouth. For emphasis, he let his hand trail down Matt’s stomach to rest against the bulge pressed against his fly. “They can’t hear us.” He gave Matt’s arousal a squeeze while biting down on Matt’s swollen bottom lip, causing him to cry out. “So relax, baby, and enjoy.”
Matt smiled crookedly and reached for Dom, gripping his tousled blonde hair to bring him close. He lifted his right leg and brushed it against Dom’s hip, trying to use it for leverage so he could lock his leg around the drummer’s waist. He felt one of his braces brush against his leg as he lifted it up and was reminded that Dom was wearing his clothing. He wrapped his hand around one dangling strap and gave it a yank as he mumbled against Dom’s throat.
“Dom…you look so good in my clothing. Want you so much…just want to fuck you. All night long, I just wanted to shove my cock into your arse.”
Dom laughed as Matt’s crooked teeth nibbled at his throat; he didn’t laugh because what he found Matt said to be amusing, but rather because Matt had no idea how wrong he was about what was in store for him that night.
“I think I got that part…it was kind of obvious when you rode my bass drum like a filthy whore.”
“I’m hardly a filthy whore,” Matt answered as he bit down on the skin below Dom’s Adam’s apple. “You’re the filthy whore, dressing up in my clothing and sitting back there, moaning and sweating like the cock tease you are. And in my fucking braces, too! Those fucking braces drove me mad.”
“I know,” Dom laughed. He dipped his head and flicked his tongue out to trace the shell of Matt’s left ear. “That was the point. It’s all part of the game, Matt.” He slipped his left hand from Matt’s cock and instead palmed Matt’s fantastic arse, reveling in the way the singer wiggled and mewled in reply.
Matt pulled his lips from Dom’s neck and glowered up at him. He was growing tired of Dom’s little games, especially since Dom had an annoying way of wresting control away from him. “You and your bloody games, Dom! I dressed up like you and looked ridiculous in front of thousands of people because you wanted to play a game! You’re a cunt, you know that?”
Dom palmed Matt’s arse again, this time extending his middle finger to run teasingly against the seam that ran between his arse cheeks. His tongue swept inside Matt’s ear and he laughed huskily when Matt shivered beneath him.
>“Seeing you dressed like me, Little One, makes so me so hard. Can’t you feel it?” He pushed his hips against Matt’s, grinding his cock into the cleft of Matt’s pelvis. “And being dressed like you gives me so many ideas…I’m dressed like you…I want to be you.”
“You want to be me? What, you want to sing?”
Dom laughed and reached for the button of his trousers, which fit snugly around Matt’s slender hips and hugged his cock in the most becoming way. He pulled the copper button through the eyehole and then pinched the zipper pull between his thumb and index finger.
“No, I don’t want to sing. You bloody well know I can’t. I want to be you. I want to undress you and I want to fuck you, and I want you to call me Matt while I do it. Can you do that, Dominic?”
Matt looked into Dom’s eyes and marveled at how dark and desire-filled they seemed to be. Matt couldn’t recall ever seeing Dom’s eyes so dark or imploring before as they begged him to play along, to submit, and Matt’s own desire to be controlled and submit to Dominic flared inside him. Obediently, he nodded, trying to look as demure and submissive as possible.
“Yes, M-Matt,” he answered with a giggle. He saw a tiny smile pull at the corners of Dom’s beautiful mouth. He swallowed and tried again, this time, as sternly as possible. “Yes, Matt, I can do that.”
“Such a good little slut you are, Dominic,” Dom breathed as he pulled Matt away from the door. He swung his head around, making sure every window was securely shuttered, and pulled Matt into the front room. He paused between the couch and the coffee table and reached for the fly of his trousers, noting with a smirk when Matt licked his lips expectantly. He eased the zipper down, revealing to Matt that he wore nothing beneath his black skinnies. “Get on your knees, Dom. Suck me like the whore you are.”
Matt hesitated until Dom pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to drop to his knees in front of Dom’s beautiful dripping cock. He could feel his own cock aching inside his trousers, but it didn’t matter; the only thing he wanted was the drummer’s cock in his mouth.
“Suck it,” Dom said, gripping Matt’s dark hair with both hands. “But don’t swallow when I cum between your lips. I want to see my cum in your pretty mouth and then I want some for myself.”
“You’re a kinky fucker, Matt Bellamy,” Matt giggled as he wrapped his long fingers around Dom’s cock. Dom’s skin felt fantastic, so hot and velvety within Matt’s fingers and he gave the thick length a firm, tentative stroke, but didn’t pull the dripping length into his mouth.
When Matt made no move to start sucking, Dom sank his fingers into Matt’s hair and flattened his hands forcefully against Matt’s scalp, cupping the back of the singer’s head with his fingers and palms. Matt still didn’t move. Dom gave a frustrated grunt and yanked on Matt’s damp hair.
“I told you to suck me, Howard,” Dom spat. If Matt wasn’t going to cooperate, then Dom was going to make him cooperate. He took his cock in his left hand and pushed the weeping slit across Matt’s mouth, causing Matt’s lips to shine with Dom’s pre-come. “Open up, you cocksucking whore.”
Matt was dying to open his mouth and suck on Dom’s cock, but there was something so alluring in Dom’s hoarse voice, something darkly seductive about his hooded eyes, that made Matt want to see more and feel more before giving in to the blonde above him. He stopped stroking Dom’s cock and tilted his head to the side to look at Dom through spidery black lashes; when he met Dom’s eyes, he challenged, “Make me, Matt. You’re the frontman, aren’t you? Put your drummer in his place.”
“What a cheeky whore. Here, use my cock to keep your defiant mouth shut.” Dom pushed the tip of his cock between Matt’s lips, moaning when Matt’s tongue flickered over his sensitive slit.
Matt slipped one pale hand around to grip Dom’s arse as his mouth bobbed up and down on Dom’s cock, first licking, and then kissing, and finally sucking gleefully. He hummed as he worked along Dom’s length, moaning and groaning when he hollowed his cheeks to suck on Dom’s dripping tip. As he worked his lips and tongue along Dom’s cock, Matt trailed his fingertips between Dom’s arse cheeks; when he felt Dom’s muscles tighten around his fingers, Matt casually explored the smooth cleft, making sure to tease Dom’s arsehole with his finger tips.
“Fuck,” Dom panted as his head fell back. He wiggled a bit against Matt’s intrusive fingers. “Don’t be a fucking tease…finger fuck me, you dirty blonde bitch.”
Matt let Dom’s cock slide from his mouth as he brought his hand towards his lips. He spit on his fingers and held them up for Dom, making sure he could see the saliva and pre-cum that drooled down from his fingertips and over his knuckles.
Dom reached out suddenly and grasped Matt’s wrist, forcing the dripping fingers against his arsehole. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head as Matt pushed one slick finger inside; Matt’s talents with his fingers went far beyond the guitar and piano, and Dom felt half crazy with need for those fingers to be buried inside of him.
Gleefully sucking and slurping Dom’s cock, Matt began working two fingers in and out of Dom’s tight hole. Dom felt amazing around Matt’s fingers, so hot and tight, and Matt twisted his fingers as he drilled them into Dom’s arse, timing the tempo with the bobbing movements of his head.
Dom began rocking against Matt’s hungry mouth as hot, throbbing pleasure began coiling in his belly. All night he’d been waiting for this; with every hit and crash during the show, he imagined this, having Matt before him, sucking obediently until he came between those cherry red lips with a grunt, and now it was close to fruition.
“Oh, so good,” Dom groaned as he clutched the back of Matt’s head. His knees buckled as Matt gave his fingers a wicked twist, and then everything went silvery white before his eyes and he was coming, hot and hard in Matt’s mouth. He could hear Matt gagging on him, and that only made Dom thrust harder.
Dom looked down at Matt and the sight before him caused him to suck a sharp breath in between his teeth. Matt had, for once, followed instructions and knelt patiently before him, his swollen lips parted to reveal a mouth full of cum. Shock and excitement traveled through him as he stared into Matt’s mouth.
“Goddamn, Howard,” Dom breathed at last as he pulled Matt to his feet, “you’re such a fucking whore. Such an obedient slut, Dom. Now give me a taste.”
He kept Matt’s mouth open with his left hand and pulled him close with his right, and once their bodies were flush, Dom wasted no time in pushing his tongue into Matt’s mouth. A myriad of tastes exploded across Dom’s tongue as he plundered Matt’s mouth, sweeping up the salty tang of his own cum coupled with Matt’s sweet, cinnamon flavor. He pushed his tongue through the pool of cum, roughly brushing against Matt’s tongue, desperate for friction. He shivered when Matt moaned and answered in kind, kissing Dom sloppily until semen and saliva dripped between their clashing mouths.
The kisses slowed into a string of lazy pecks and nibbles. Dom broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Matt’s while his tongue traced the outline of Matt’s mouth to sweep up the last remaining bits of flavor.
“Mmm,” Matt sighed, his mind now turning to his own arousal, which had been neglected since he stepped into the bus, “is it my turn now?”
Dom smirked against Matt’s mouth and looked into the singer’s shining blue eyes.
“Oh, I’d say it’s your turn. Bend over and spread your arse cheeks. I want to see that pretty arsehole before I fuck it with my tongue.”