The Graduate (1/3)
Title: The Graduate (1/3)
Author: ms_belle10
Pairing: belldom (AU)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Widower Dominic meets his real-life Lolita...his daughter's boyfriend, Matt.
Note: When you see ** it indicates a jump in time.
Disclaimer: None of this ever happened. I do not know/own or claim to know/own any individual, piece of creative work, place, or item that you recognize in this fic. The story belongs to me, but the real people do not. No defamation is intended.
“Dad? Dad! Are you home?”
Dominic Howard pauses in the middle of making dinner as his daughter, B, calls out to him from the front door. “Yes, B! I’m in the kitchen!” He fills a bucket with ice and begins looking through the refrigerator for a bottle of wine.
“Dad, I brought Mat home for taco night,” continues B, her voice growing nearer as she comes closer to the kitchen.
Dominic selects a wine bottle and lets it chill in the ice bucket he recently filled. “Who is Matt?”
Footsteps enter the kitchen and then stop. There is a soft giggle in a tone that indicates Dominic should really be more in tune with his daughter’s life. “Matt is my boyfriend, Dad.”
Dominic grabs a wine glass from the drying rack and then turns toward his daughter. He spies a head of dark, spiky hair over his daughter’s shoulder. “Well, introduce me to this...Matt.”
The darkhaired figure takes a step and appears in front of B. Dominic feels the stem of the wineglass slip a bit between his fingers as the boy stands under the light. The tungsten glow accents the hollows created by Matt’s cheekbones and brings out the creamy tone of his pale skin. Dominic meets the boy’s sapphire eyes and his cock lurches in his trousers.
“I’m Matt,” the boy says, his eyes working over Dominic’s body with interest.
Matt smiles and Dominic catches a glimpse of a crooked front tooth. He smiles warmly and extends his hand. “Hello there. I’m Dominic. Glad you could make it to dinner.”
Matt clasps Dominic’s hand. “Thank you for having me. I hope I didn’t interrupt taco night.”
“No, it’s a pleasure,” Dominic replies, still holding onto Matt’s hand.
“Dad, stop holding Matt’s hand!” B whines, pulling Dominic out of his haze.
Dominic yanks his hand away from Matt’s hand. “I didn’t realize I was, B.” He cuts his eyes to the side, looking at his daughter. “B, let Hullabaloo out and set the table for me, please. Matt, would you care to help me finish the tacos?”
“Yes, whatever you need,” Matt answers eagerly. “What can I do for you?”
Dominic surpresses the smirk that rises to his lips. The thoughts running through his mind are ones he hasn’t had in years. He shuffles through a string of replies before answering. “I’m sure I’ve got some meat you can help me with.”
“Dad!” exclaims B. “If you weren’t old and boring, I’d say you were being nasty.”
“B,” Dominic sighs, “let the dog outside, please.”
He waits until B is in the other room to step up behind Matt. He wastes no time and makes no pretenses about what he wants, and what Matt’s flashing blue eyes seem to say he wants. “Two questions. Are you eighteen, Matthew? And just how much do you want to help me?”
Matt pauses and when he replies, his answer sounds as though he is puzzled. “Yes...I’m nineteen. And, I’ll help you as much as you need, Dominic.”
Dominic takes a step back. The boy’s confusion is offputting and sends him reeling as his ego deflates. “Erm...I’ll have you chop lettuce.”
“Brilliant,” says Matt, flashing Dominic a smile that makes his stomach clench. “I’m good with my hands.”
Dominic surpresses a groan and turns toward the refrigerator, hoping that the cool air will kill his excitement. Matt’s next words are soft and Dominic almost misses them.
“I thought maybe you wanted...another...kind of help, Dominic.”
Dominic stares at the contents of his refrigerator, eyes locked upon the expiration date printed on a carton of milk. He hones in on the number, stamping it into his corneas as his mind battles. His responsibility as a father, an authority figure, as an adult, wages war with his needs as a man, a human, a sexual being restrained for far too long. The fight is short and free from drama or deep introspection; Dominic’s rawest and most primitive emotions win and out and the choice is made.
Matthew is legal, a year past it in fact, and as for him being B’s boyfriend…well, B is a rather fickle young woman and Dominic can recall three other boyfriends his daughter mentioned during the same academic year. Chances are good, very good, that B isn’t too attached to Matt.
“Do you know what you’re asking, Matt?” Dom asks, bending slightly to pull a head of lettuce from the crisper. He nudges the door shut with an elbow and finds Matt leaning casually against the kitchen island, staring at him intently.
Matt nods and runs a hand along the countertop, his fingers fanning each time he nears the counter’s edge. “I’m rather inexperienced, but I think that you’re trying to pull me, Mr. Howard.”
Dominic’s throat and mouth suddenly grow dry as sandpaper. He watches Matt’s hand repeat the same movements again-fingers stroking, spreading, and fanning before drawing together to drag back down the countertop. Dominic turns his attention back to Matt’s face, which displays an expression that is placid and nonplussed.
“And if I am?”
Matt smiles, lips forming a pouting smirk that says much about what lay beneath his pretty packaging. His tongue breaches the seal of his lips and glides between them, and Dominic watches with open interest while waiting for a reply.
“Keep trying to pull,” Matt advises. He sneaks his hands forward along the tiled countertop and pinches Dom’s middle finger between his index finger and thumb. “Who knows what may…come off…in your hands, Mr. Howard.”
Dominic leans forward, the edge of the kitchen island prodding his middle. He captures Matt’s bony wrist and wraps his fingers around it for just a moment, holding on no longer than a heartbeat.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Dominic warns.
“Teach me,” Matt whispers, drawing near to Dominic for a moment before pulling away.
B’s voice, impatient and shrill, breaks the tense silence. “Dad! Can we eat yet?!”
Dominic pulls away from Matt, leaves the lettuce on the counter, and makes busy work of organizing the cheese, sour cream, and salsa. “Did you set the table?” There is a pause and Hullabaloo barks in the silence. “Then no, we can’t eat yet!”
B appears in the kitchen, bouncy and oblivious to the tension that hangs thickly between her father and boyfriend. “Sorry. Can Matt help me?”
“Mr. Howard?” Matt asks.
“Go on,” says Dominic, opening a cutlery drawer in search of a corkscrew. “I’m…finishing pulling things together.”
During the meal, Dominic stays on his best behavior, ignoring the plea of every nerve ending, each of which beg him to reach out and touch the boy sitting next to him. Towards the end of the meal, Matthew shifts and his fingers brush the outside of Dominic’s leg, almost sending Dominic rocketing into the underside of the table. He wants to make eye contact, but Matt appears to be engrossed in whatever triviality B is discussing.
Matt’s fingers brush the outside of Dominic’s leg once more; this time, his fingers curve around to circle Dominic’s kneecap. The teenager’s fingers tighten around his knee, squeezing, before releasing and falling away.
Dominic drops his right hand beneath the table while still pushing his fork around his plate with his left hand. Before he can second guess himself, he slides his hand across the top of Matt’s thigh. When the teenager doesn’t flinch, or even blink, Dominic guides his hand down to the inseam of Matt’s tight white skinny jeans.
As casually as he can while stroking the inseam with his middle finger, he turns to Matt and asks, “Do you have any plans for the summer?”
Matt hesitates for just a moment and Dominic pounces, moving his hand a bit higher on Matt’s inner thigh, stopping when the heat from between Matt’s legs nips at Dominic’s fingertips. If the teen is rattled, he doesn’t show it with his reply.
“A few plans, but nothing as exciting as B’s trip to Spain.”
“Matt!” exclaims B, her voice breaking into the conversation. “Matt, you should help Dad with the garden while I’m in Spain. I’m sure he’d enjoy the company and the help.”
Dominic’s hand creeps a bit higher, his fingers now centimeters from the tight, hot apex of Matt’s trousers. “What do you say, Matt?” He looks from B to Matt and smiles brightly, his intentions shining brightly in his mercury-colored eyes, as he cups the bulge in Matt’s trousers with the palm of his hand. He gives the warm hillock a gentle squeeze and then watches Matt’s eyes widen. “Care to lend me a hand?”
Matt clenches his jaw but his eyes seem to reflect the same mirth and excitement in Dom’s own eyes. “I’m sure we can come up with something, Mr. Howard.”
**
Two Weeks Later
Dominic sets a bucket, brush, and a bottle of soap next to the grille of his sleek black Audi. He fills the bucket with water from the spigot, adds a bit of soap, and begins scrubbing the front end of the car. Washing his car instead of having it washed is one of his favorite past-times; cleaning the muck and grime from his car is like washing the much and grime from himself. It’s cathartic and cleansing, and paired with the Queen flowing from his earbuds and warm sunshine from above, it’s perfectly relaxing.
He works his way along the front of the car, moving the sponge in circles and in perfect time with the music. He stretches up to scrub the windscreen and as he does, locks eyes with the person standing at the boot of the car, their blue eyes burning hotly into Dom’s grey gaze.
Dominic stands. He feels Matt’s eyes moving over him and he can’t help but smile, knowing that the teenager is enjoying Dominic’s sleeveless white shirt and tiny yellow shorts, which ride up his thighs and expose wet, golden skin.
“I’ve come to help you with your garden, Mr. Howard,” Matt says, the look in his eyes causing Dom’s skin to prickle.
“Have you?” Dominic replies. He steps around to the passenger-side door and continues, “Come to be pulled, then?”
Matt steps up and meets Dominic by the door. He eases the wet sponge from Dominic’s fist and drops it to the ground as Dominic switches off his ipod and sets it in the grass. He takes Matt’s shirt in hand and pulls him forward, twisting and tugging on the fabric until their chests touch.
“Teach me,” Matt whispers, his chest heaving against Dominic’s.
Dominic squeezes the fabric of Matt’s shirt in his hand. He bends slightly and brushes his nose along Matt’s cheekbone, inhaling deeply. His lips brush Matt’s cheek as he asks, “How much to do want to learn?”
Matt turns his head so his mouth teases Dominic’s ear. “Everything.”
Dominic’s hands drop to Matt’s slender, bony hips. He squeezes, his fingers digging into the soft shelf of Matt’s arse and Matt responds immediately, arching his hips so his groin rubs against Dominic’s growing erection.
“I’m your daughter’s boyfriend,” Matt whispers as he grinds against Dominic without shame.
Dominic squeezes Matt’s arse again and then laughs against his lips. “I don’t care.” He kisses him softly, fleetingly, the touch of his lips upon Matt’s no more than a whisper. “And neither do you.”
Matt groans and yields to Dominic’s kiss. He parts his lips and Dominic’s tongue thrusts inside, licking and twisting and begging Matt to join the seductive, filthy dance. Dominic gives Matt’s backside a smack and the teenager comes alive, gasping and panting against Dominic’s full lips.
“Up on the bonnet,” Dominic whispers into Matt’s mouth. He lifts Matt with ease and puts him on the bonnet of the Audi, the young man slipping and sliding until he wraps his legs around Dominic’s waist. As soon as Matt is no longer slipping and sliding on the soapy black surface, Dominic pushes his hands under his shirt to stroke and squeeze his smooth chest and stomach.
Matt mimics the action, tugging on Dominic sleeveless shirt until Dominic ducks out of it and lets it drop to the ground. Dominic holds Matt close, his wet chest sliding against Matt’s dry one, as his lips and teeth pull at Matt’s small mouth again and again.
“Is this my first lesson?” Matt whispers, clinging to Dominic’s waist and arching against him with every kiss.
Dominic laughs into Matt’s mouth and lets his tongue lap at the young man’s crooked front tooth. “Yes. And I think you’re growing into quite a pupil.” He guides his hand between their bodies to squeeze Matt’s cock. “Yes, growing quite a bit indeed.”
“Filthy old man,” Matt giggles before sucking on Dominic’s full bottom lip. He releases it with a pop. “Absolutely filthy.”
“No, no,” Dominic responds. “I’m squeaky clean. You’re the filthy one.”
Matt slips his hand down alongside Dominic’s hand and cups the growing bulge in his shorts. “Well then...I think I should bring you down to my dirty level.”
Dominic laughs and leans in for another sticky kiss. It’s going to be a fantastic month.
**
There is someone in his house.
Dominic pauses just inside the foyer and listens. He can hear delicate, almost weightless footsteps moving from deep inside the house and the sound makes him smile as he moves to the master bedroom. He turns the brass doorknob and opens the door; when he looks at his bed, his smile grows into a glowing grin. Stretched atop his bed, nestled on a thick brown duvet, is Matt’s slender body, his thin form clad in only a low-riding pair of white shorts.
“Oh, look. A burglar,” Dominic says. He closes the bedroom door and eyes the body on his bed. “A burglar in boxer shorts.”
Matt tucks his hands beneath his head and smiles brightly at Dominic. “You’ve caught me.”
Dominic toes off his glittery silver Chucks, discarding them with little interest. “Tell me, scantily clad burglar...did you tend to my garden?”
Matt cackles brightly and watches as Dominic sheds his shirt and trousers. “I did a bit of landscaping.”
Dominic gets onto the bed and pauses in the middle, watching Matt crawl toward him and mimic his body position, knees digging into the mattress.
“Did you, now?” Dominic returns. He brushes his hand along Matt’s belly, his touch featherlight, He guides two fingers beneath the waistband of Matt’s boxer shorts and strokes the soft, dark line of hair he finds there. Matt tips his head back in pleasure and Dominic wastes no time in latching his mouth on Matt’s throat.
“Y-yes,” Matt chokes out. “I got sweaty bending over the flowerbeds and shrubbery. My hands got filthy, all that pulling and tugging. I got so dirty that I had to have a shower. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Howard.”
Dominic moves his tongue over Matt’s Adam’s apple, taking in the sweet taste of soap and sweat. His fingers travel further into Matt’s shorts, yet he avoids touching the rapidly hardening flesh just centimeters from his fingertips. “Mmm, no, I don’t mind at all.”
Matt brings his fingers to Dominic’s shoulders, squeezing and kneading the muscles. “I wanked in the shower. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted from you when you came home and found me in your bed.”
Dominic threads his fingers in Matt’s hair and uses the dark strands as leverage to tilt Matt’s head to the side. He nips his way up Matt’s neck, pausing to suck on his earlobe before panting hotly in his ear. “What do you want, now that you have me in bed?”
Matt sighs and arches his hips up, pushing into Dominic’s hand. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”
Dominic pushes the tip of his tongue into Matt’s ear as he strokes the base of Matt’s shaft with his strong left hand. He moves his mouth down again to suck on Matt’s earlobe, twisting his tongue around the smooth skin. He gives the flesh a nip and whispers, “What is it that you want me to put in my mouth?”
“You know...” Matt says with a high-pitched giggle.
Dominic gives Matt a long stroke, squeezing the tip with his fingers, and then glides back down to the base. Matt shudders in his arms and Dominic laughs, entertained by the brunet’s nervous energy. “No, love, I’m afraid I have no idea. You’d best tell me.”
“It’s...oh, fuck, it’s in your hand,” Matt wheezes, rocking into Dominic’s fist. “It’s hard and slippery and in your hand.”
“That could be any number of things. A banana, or a candlestick, or perhaps a pickle,” says Dominic. He wants to make Matt say the words. “What’s. In. My. Hand.”
“My cock!” Matt exclaims. “My cock is in your hand! And I want you to put it in your mouth!”
Dominic laughs, pleased, and places a warm kiss to the curve of Matt’s neck atop a pinkish-purple bruise that is blooming beneath the skin. That kiss spawns another kiss, this time to the left of one dark nipple; then, another kiss, the next at Matt’s belly button. He nibbles and kisses along the line of dark hair that extends down from Matt’s belly button and stops when he reaches the waistband of his shorts.
“Take them off,” Matt whispers, looking down and meeting Dominic’s eyes. “Please.”
Dominic chuckles. “Lay back, mmm? I’m not as young as I used to be, I’m not sure I can stay in this position long without getting stuck.”
Matt giggles and leans back amongst the pillows. “I’d hate for you to get stuck. Then I’d have to call an ambulance.” He pauses, as though in thought, and then continues. “How old are you, anyway?”
Dominic, who was about to push down the waistband of Matt’s shorts, sighs. “I’m thirty six. Positively ancient.” He begins pulling Matt’s shorts down once more, only to be interrupted by another question.
“Who was prime minister then?”
Dominic screws up his face as the face of the prime minister in 1975 comes to mind. “Margaret Thatcher.”
Matt giggles once more and Dominic prods him in the stomach. “Matt, stop...I’d really not think about Margaret bloody Thatcher when I’m sucking your cock.” He pulls down Matt’s shorts and kisses the lightly-haired skin just above the cock in question. “Jesus Christ. You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”
Again, Matt’s high-pitched laughter fills the room. He wiggles atop the duvet and Dominic has to hold him down to keep him from rolling off the mattress.
“Hold still, would you! I’d hate to have that gigantic tool poke me in the eye, if you don’t mind,” Dominic says, his own voice trembling with laughter. Matt’s slender body stills and Dominic lowers his face down between Matt’s legs. “That’s much better, thank you.”
“Always so polite, Mr. Howard,” Matt teases. He guides his fingers into Dominic’s hair. “Polite even as you’re corrupting the youth of England.”
“Shh,” Dominic says, winding his fingers around the base of Matt’s cock. He brushes his lips over the head, sweeping up the single pearly drop that has gathered on the skin, and licks the salty bead from his lips. “A sweet thing, too. Big and sweet. I may never let you leave.” He looks up at Matt, grey eyes shining, and pulls the head between his lips for the first suck.
“I may never leave...oh, fucking hell,” Matt sighs, his body jerking beneath Dominic’s mouth.
Dominic laughs, sending vibrations along Matt’s cock. He swallows, pulling a bit more of Matt’s length into his mouth, and is rewarded by a soft spurt of pre-come that coats his tongue. Dominic swallows again, not wanting a drop to escape his lips, and starts bobbing his head, taking more of Matt into his mouth each time his head moves down. He feels Matt’s fingers twist in his hair, half-twisting the strands and half-pushing him down.
“Dominic, fucking fuck,” Matt sighs. He winds one leg around Dominic’s bare shoulders, digging his heel into Dominic’s right shoulde blade. “Fucking suck it.”
Dominic moans, his heart flip-flopping in his chest at Matt’s command, and hollows his cheeks. He sucks until his jaw hurts and his lips go numb, but he doesn’t stop sucking. Even when Matt thrusts against the back of his throat and makes him gag, Dominic doesn’t stop; he keeps working the teenager’s cock into and out of his mouth, already addicted to the taste of his seed and his skin.
“F-fucking, cunting...oh Christ, make me come,” Matt whimpers, rocking his hips so that his dick thrusts into Dominic’s mouth.
Dominic’s left hand, which he kept tight around the base of Matt’s cock, begins to stroke to slide up and down his slippery shaft, fingers and palm moving in the precome that escaped his attentive mouth. He slides his right hand down to Matt’s arse and guides his finger between the smooth cheeks to tease the tight, untouched opening he finds there. While his middle finger traces the cleft of Matt’s arse, Dominic flickers his tongue against the slit in Matt’s cock head, earning a throaty groan from the brunet.
“Fffffuck,” Matt grunts. He jerks into the older man’s mouth. “So...close. So close.”
Dominic pulls his mouth away with a pop, a string of precome stretching between Matt’s sticky skin and his bottom lip. He smiles and then returns to the task at hand, nibbling around Matt’s head and then twisting his tongue around the smooth, weeping surface. Matt’s thrusts grow uneven and short and Dominic knows the teenager is about to come.
“Gonna come...” Matt whines, thrusting between Dominic’s full lips and striking the roof of his mouth. “Coming in your mouth!”
“Mmmmmhmmmm,” Dominic hums happily. He sucks wetly, working his tongue around Matt’s cock until Matt cries out and floods his mouth with come. Two warm, sticky bursts fill Dominic’s mouth and he groans before swallowing it down.
He eases Matt’s softening cock from his mouth, wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and crawls alongside Matt’s shaking body. When he reaches Matt’s head, he sweeps a few strands of sweaty black hair from his forehead. “You alive?”
Matt’s head lolls to the side and he smiles brightly, deliriously at Dominic. “Oh, yes.” His smile transforms into a smirk. “My turn.”