Midnight

Oct. 3rd, 2014 06:54 pm
hannah_chapter1: (Calm)
Title: Midnight
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: "Midnight, the stars and you/ Midnight, and a rendezvous..."
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Don't own the members of Muse, this is fiction.


Men and women in tuxedos and evening gowns swirl around the ballroom. They talk and drink and laugh - and why shouldn't they laugh? Why shouldn't we laugh? We have liberated ourselves from the outdated Victorian values of our parents and we have survived the Great War, the war to end all wars. Now we tremble on the edge of a new decade, a new era of peace and prosperity. The 1920s will, I feel, be our time, a decade made for a generation which adores frivolity. A new world full of bright young things.

A waiter passes me and I place my empty champagne glass upon his tray. I think, perhaps, I may have overindulged a tad. My head buzzes (it is not an altogether unpleasant sensation) and I sweat freely beneath my tuxedo. I do believe some fresh air would do me the world of good.

The garden is, of course, dead at this time of year, but still beautiful to my eyes. The midwinter chill feels like heaven after the heat of the ballroom. I lean against the wall and light a cigarette, drawing harsh tobacco deep into my lungs. The stars glitter brightly, I smoke and gaze up at them, lost in my own thoughts.

Shoes crunching on the gravel path bring me out of my reverie. He walks towards me, the light from the ballroom windows outlining him in gold, imbuing him with the aura of an angel. But if half the things I have heard about this man are true, he is closer to demon than angel. He holds out a cigarette of his own.

"Might I trouble you for a light?" he asks.

I oblige him and we smoke together awhile in companionable silence.

"What is your name?" he asks suddenly.

"Matthew."

"Matthew," he repeats the name, tastes it, "I am very pleased to meet you, Matthew. My name -"

"You are Dominic Howard. I have heard of you. People talk about you, you know."

"What do they say?"

"I am sure you are perfectly aware of what they say."

"Perhaps. But be so kind as to indulge me."

"As you wish. I hear things about you, perfectly wicked things."

"Wicked, you say?"

"My, yes. I have been told you perform illegal and most unnatural acts with other men."

"I see. Tell me, Matthew, when you heard these stories, did they shock you?"

I drop the end of my cigarette on the ground.

"No. They did not shock me, Dominic. They excited me."

He takes my meaning immediately, as I thought he might. Casting away his own cigarette, he pins me to the wall and kisses me deeply, our tongues meeting and sliding together in a perfectly obscene manner. He tastes of crisp champagne, fine tobacco and pure, undiluted sin. I moan and thrust against his thigh again and again, each thrust more eager than the last. Dominic pulls away with a soft chuckle.

"You are no blushing virgin," he says.

"No. Does that trouble you."

"Most definitely not. Don't get me wrong, corrupting an innocent can be a bit of a lark, but I find I prefer an experienced lover," he pushes me to my knees and unbuttons his trousers, "a man who knows what to do when presented with a stiff prick."

Soft moans from above me as I take him in my mouth and suck gently. I want to drive him wild. I want to feel him lose control, I want to feel him pour himself down my throat - but not half as much as I want to feel him pour himself into my arse. So I give him a gentle sucking, enough to please him, not enough to send him ove the edge.

Before too long I am pressed against the wall again, face-first this time, with my trousers around my ankles. Now it's my turn to moan as he plays with me, tonguing and toying with my arsehole. A great roar of sound from within the ballroom; I am missing the countdown to the New Year, but I find I do not care as Dominic pushes his prick into me and proceeds to bugger me senseless.

Dominic and I are more alike than he knows, for I too prefer an experienced partner, a man who'll give me the rough treatment I desire. The stories I'd heard about Dominic and his preference for rough bedroom sports made me think he'd be my ideal lover. And now there really can be no doubt.

I press my palms against the wall as he pounds my arsehole, every thrust carrying me to greater heights, until the moment he bites me earlobe, hard enough to bring blood, and I come undone, spilling my seed upon the ground. And still he does not stop, holding me in place and rutting me with bestial debauchery. I am beginning to wonder if I will ever be able to walk again without help when he grunts and fills my arsehole, marking me as his own.

We remain as we are while our minds and bodies piece themselves together. Dominic pulls his flesh out of mine and we re-adjust our clothing. Dominic is the first to speak.

"This was a most enjoyable experience, one worth repeating. Do you agree, Matthew?"

"I do."

"I am glad," he reaches into his pocket and hands me a card, "I am at home around noon most days."

I take the card.

"I will call on you," I tell him.

"I have no doubt of it."

He kisses me on the lips, a soft, chaste kiss.

"Goodnight, Matthew."

"Goodnight, Dominic."

He returns to the party and I remain in the garden, looking up at the stars.

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