hannah_chapter1: (Ale)
Title: Tender Loving Care
Author: hannah_chapter
Summary: AU. Office series. Two office workers go to hospital.
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: When you hit me, hit me hard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is fiction.
Notes: It's been a long time, but I finally had an idea for another one of these.


There's a new stud in town and he's causing quite a stir.

"Just look at that arse," Dawn sighs as the stud in question saunters out of the breakroom.

I'm adding sugar to my coffee, glance up for a second before returning to my task.

"It's alright I suppose."

She smacks my arm and the sugar packet falls into the coffee. I hate it when that happens.

"You weren't even looking! Honestly, Matt, you're hopeless."

I find a plastic spoon and scoop the now-soggy packet out of my coffee and drop it in the bin.

"Sorry, but I just don't see what all the fuss is about."

"Well, you're lucky. You've already got a gorgeous blond with a fine arse to warm your bed at night."

"A gorgeous, well-hung, sexually creative blond with a fine arse," I correct.

"Well-hung?"

"Very well-hung."

"What, like a baby's arm?"

"More like a bricklayer's arm with an apple in its fist."

"Fucking hell. How do you walk, or even sit down, without splitting in two?"

"I don't know. I might need to avoid barstools and bicycle seats in later life."

She shivers and changes the subject. We finish our coffee and go back to work. I meet the new boy at the end of the day. He spots me waiting for the lift and wanders over for a quick flirt. I should be flattered, I know I should, but I've seen him try this routine on about half a dozen men and women already.

"Hello, beautiful. Have we met?"

"We're meeting now."

"We certainly are."

He smiles and offers his hand. I reach out and give it a token squeeze. Hot and a bit sweaty, yuck.

"I'm Ian."

"Matt."

"Your eyes are like spanners, has anyone ever told you that?"

"They - what - did you just say my eyes are like spanners?"

I have no idea where he's going with this.

"Yes, spanners. I looked into them and my nuts tightened."

I burst out laughing.

"That's either the best chat-up line I've ever heard, or the worst."

"Any reason why it can't be both?"

His smile widens as he dazzles me with his charm, or tries to. This approach might work on others, but not on me. I look at this guy and all I see is a weak, oily imitation of Dom.

Ian takes a step forward and I take a step back. This doesn't put him off, as I hoped it would.

"So, Matt, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

Not that it's any business of yours, I think but do not say.

"Boyfriend?"

"As a matter of fact - "

I don't hear him approach but Dom is suddenly there, snaking a possessive arm around my waist and pulling me to him.

"Hello there!" Dom smiles brightly at the other man, "it's Ian, isn't it? The new boy in my section. I think we met at your interview."

All the blood drains from Ian's face as the penny drops: he's just been hitting on his boss's boyfriend. He mutters something, it might be an apology but it's too indistinct to say for sure, and scuttles away. I turn to face Dom and bite my lip to supress a giggle. All puffed up and radiating testosterone, I half-expect him to pee a circle around me to mark his territory.

"What's so funny?" he asks as we get in the lift.

"Well, you've driven away the competition and proved you're the leader of the pack, so what's next? Bashing me over the head with a rock and dragging me back to your cave?"

He grabs my tie.

"Actually," he purrs, "I was thinking I'd take you home, bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you until you can't see straight."

Well, that shut me up.

*****************************

"That was .... I ... ugh."

I think he broke my brain. Face-down on the kitchen counter, the weight of Dom's upper body pinning me there as he pants in my ear. The fog begins to clear as Dom straightens up and pulls out.

"Matt? You okay?"

I push myself up and off the counter and shuffle around to face him.

"Better than okay. You should get jealous more often."

"I wasn't jealous."

"Yes, you were. But you've got no reason to be. Ian does nothing for me and anyway, I doubt he's even a real bisexual."

"I doubt he's even a real blond."

The bitchiness of Dom's comment, coupled with the sudden realisation that we're still in our work suits and our trousers are around out ankles, sends me off into gales of uncontrollable laughter. Dom smiles, shrugs and pulls his trousers up.

***********************************

"Are you alright?" I ask Dom as we walk through the lobby.

"Of course I'm alright, why wouldn't I be?"

"You barely touched your breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry."

"You didn't sleep much last night either, did you?"

"No," he admits, "I couldn't get comfortable."

We step into the lift and I reach out and touch his forehead.

"Your skin is hot. You might be coming down with something."

"Maybe I am."

"You should go home. Take the day off and go home."

"I can't. I have meetings today and I can't skip therm."

"Dom - "

He touches a finger to my lips, shushing me.

"Just let me get through today, Matt. If I still feel bad tomorrow, I'll take the rest of the week off. Deal?"

I sigh.

"Deal."

I spend my morning typing up reports and listening to Dawn's personal, highly entertaining and unbelievably bitchy phone calls. She rips into a massively popular, best-selling erotic trilogy. It's not a book series, she says, it's a flaming turd direct from Satan's own arsepipe. There's a blut of movement to my left, I turn and -

What the fuck?

Did I just see two guys carrying a stretcher or did I just imagine it? People around me are standing, staring and Dawn's conversation comes to an abrupt halt. I didn't imagine it, then.

But what's going on?

The ambulance guys come back through the main floor of the office, their stretcher full -

"Dom!"

I run to his side. They try and shoo me away but I'm having none of it.

"He's my boyfriend, I go where he goes."

********************************************

The ride to the hospital is one long, nighmarish blur. I spend most of it staring at the oxygen mask covering Dom's face. How did this happen? How did he go from feeling a bit sick to collapsing in the middle of a meeting?

We get to the hospital, Dom's whisked off for some emergency surgery and I'm left to pace the halls and drink bad coffee while I wait for news. In between cups of coffee I call work. They put me through to Dom's boss, he asks for an update and I tell him what I know, which isn't much. He asks me to keep him posted and this I promise to do. I call Dom's parents and get no answer. I try their number a few times before remembering they're not around. They've gone to Thailand for five weeks.

I'm on my fourth cup of coffee and my third pee break when I hear a familiar voice, look up and see the legend that is Thomas Kirk, limping up the hall towards me.

"Tom! I forgot you were here."

"Only just. I checked myself out ten minutes ago. But why are you here, Matt?"

I spill out my story, Tom lends a sympathetic ear and offers to stay with me, an offer I gratefully accept.

"So, he's in surgery now?"

"I think so."

I'm suddenly grateful Dom opted for plain boxers this morning, instead of the Kermit the Frog ones I got him for his birthday. Tom kneels on the chair beside me. I look at him and, even though I'm so worried about Dom I'm almost sick, I can't help smiling as I remember just how Tom got here and why he can't sit down. He pouts, reading my mind.

"It's not funny, Bellamy."

"Yes it is. You, Tom, only you could get stabbed in the arse by your own sister."

"Bloody woman is insane."

"She's going through a rough patch."

"I know, and yeah, getting dumped the night before your wedding can't be fun. But there was no need to take it out on me."

"You brought it on yourself."

"I was trying to be nice."

"You call walking up to her in the middle of a crowded restaurant and shouting 'so he gave you the push, then, did he, Liz?' being nice?"

Our conversation is interrupted by a woman's voice, calling my name. Dawn, fresh from work. I introduce her to Tom, they shake hands and, even from here, I can see the spark between them jump. Then the surgeon is there, leading me into a quiet corner. He introduces himself as Doctor Conners.

"Will Dom be okay?"

"Fine, he'll be fine."

"What happened?"

"It was his appendix. But we were lucky, I managed to get it out, and just in time, too. It burst between my fingers as I was lifting it out."

The thought makes me feel faint. The surgeon grabs my elbow, steadying me.

"It didn't burst inside him, that's the important thing. We've got him on morphine so he'll be groggy, maybe even a little cranky, for a few days."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course."

I take a couple of minutes to tell Tom and Dawn the news. They hug me, then Tom invites Dawn for a drink. She accepts and they leave together. I watch them go. Why do I feel like I've just introduced Bonnie to Clyde?

The surgeon brings me to Dom's room. I sit beside his bed and hold his hand in mine. I don't expect him to wake but, after about an hour and a half, he begins to stir. His eyes open and lock onto me.

"Where ....?" he whispers.

"Hospital. You really were sick."

"Oh."

A nurse comes in and Dom brightens, giving her a happy, doped-up smile.

"Hi, I'm Dom. This is Matt. Matt's my boyfriend. He comes like a banshee."

My face heats up and I stare at the floor as Dom prattles on, telling the nurse everything she could want to know about our sex life. Every position, every location, every kink. I don't how he's managed to go from a couple of weak, whispered words to this filth-filled soliloquy, but I'm seriously considering holding a pillow over his face to shut him up.

He finally stops talking and, just like that, he's asleep again. I sigh, relieved ... and then the sheet just below his waist begins to rise and the nurse, who's kept an admirably straight face until now, giggles. Oh, for Christ's sake! How is that even possible?

**********************************************************

Three days pass and Dom's looking better. Still in hospital, though, still on morphine, and still getting erect every five seconds. He's scowling and cursing when I come in for my afternoon visit.

"Go down, you stupid fucking thing, why won't you go down?"

I kiss his cheek.

"What's the hurry? It'll go down, in its own time."

He looks at me with mournful eyes.

"The nurse will be here in a few minutes. She's giving me a sponge bath."

"So what? It's nothing she hasn't seen before."

"It's embarrassing. Can't you do something about it?"

"Like what?"

"You know."

He makes a univerally recognised hand gesture.

"Are you serious? A handjob, here, now?"

"Or a blowjob, whatever works. Please, Matt, just help me get rid of it."

"What about your stictches?"

"Fuck my stitches."

"Fine. But don't come crying to me if they have to wheel you right back into surgery after this."

i pull back the sheet, lift his gown and wrap my hand around him. Dom's head falls back against the pillow and he moans, the sound shockingly loud in this quiet room. I stop.

"Shh!"

"Sorry."

He clamps his lips together and I continue. But it's not happening. All my usual tricks are failing. It doesn't matter what I do, how hard or how fast I stroke, the bloody thing won't spurt. Time for plan B. I take him in my mouth, sucking the very tip of him, fingers stroking his balls. Can I hear the nurse's heels clicking their way down the hall, or is it just my imagination? Come on, Dom, come on ...

A strangled cry above me and my mouth is suddenly overflowing. I swallow frantically to keep from choking. When he's finally empty I let him go and tidy him up. And just in time, too  - it wasn't my imagination, the nurse really is on her way. My bum has barely touched the hard plastic chair beside Dom's bed when she enters the room. She smiles at Dom.

"How are we feeling today, Mr. Howard?"

Dom returns the smile.

"Better, nurse, much, much better.
hannah_chapter1: (Banjos)
Title: Bouncing Bedsprings
Author: hannah_chapter
Summary: AU. Office series. Two office workers just can't keep their hands off each other, much to a certain Mr. Kirk's dismay...
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 15/R
Feedback: When you hit me, hit me hard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is fiction.
Notes: Tom's back! This one was written especially for ashamedbliss. Happy birthday!


They make me sick
.

Don't get me wrong, Matt's my friend and he always will be. I love him - in a totally platonic, non-gay way. And I've warmed to Dom over the last few months, he's a nice guy when you get to know him. But, as a couple, they make me want to put my head between my knees and sick up all over the floor. They're just so disgustingly happy together, spend too much time around them and you'll get diabetes. I'm going through a bit of a dry patch at the moment and people who prance about and bang on and fucking on about their boyfriends really get on my nerves - especially when they keep rubbing their sex lives in my face.

***********************************************************************************************

I pace around my kitchen, checking my watch every thirty seconds or so. Where the fuck is Matt? He was supposed to be here half an hour ago. I pull out my phone and call him. It rings for ages. When he answers he sounds out of breath.

"H-hello?"

"You said you'd be here at eleven, Matt, what's the hold up?"

"Tom! Shit ... something ... um ... came up and I, I lost track of time."

I hear giggling in the background and Matt moans. Oh, he isn't - is he?

"Matt, please tell me you're not having sex while you're on the phone with me."

"Of ... course ... I'm ... not ... don't .... be ... silly ..."

More giggling and panting in the background.

"You are! You're fucking unbelievable!"

I take a deep breath.

"Tell me something, Matt, is Dom's cock a life support machine?"

"W-what?"

"Will you die if you're not hooked up to it?"

" ... no ..."

"Great. Now, climb off him, put your knickers on and get your arse over here, would you kindly?"

He drops his phone but doesn't hit the 'off' button and I hear Dom moan:

"Yeah baby, ride me like a rollercoaster!"

"You are a pair of disgusting pervs," I shout into the phone, "and I hope your willies drop off from overuse."

I hang up just in time to hear a thump and a scream from the other side of the garden fence. I go outside and have a look. My neighbour's bounced right off his trampoline and knackered himself on a nearby rock. Matt arrives as I'm emptying an ice tray into a tea towel. He goes outside and gives trampoline man - I don't know his real name - his ice pack, then the ambulance comes and whisks him away.

Matt brought me coffee by way of apology, but in all the excitement it's gone cold so I pour it into a proper cup and sling it in the microwave. When it's done I add sugar and take a sip. Oh yeah, that's just what I need. Matt leans against the counter and I arch an eyebrow.

"I hope you showered before you came."

"Actually, I showered after I came."

"I'm going to kill you now, Matthew, and when they hear about the morning I've had, no jury in the land will convict me."

He cackles. God, but he has the weirdest laugh. I study him critically.

"Look at you, you filthy slut, you can barely stand! Can't you keep your hands off each other for a few minutes?"

He shifts from foot to foot.

"Yeah, well, we had a fight last night. We were making up when you called."

"A fight?"

"Yes, Thomas, a fight. It does happen from time to time."

"And here was me thinking you spent all your time painting each other's toenails and watching Dirty Dancing."

"Which one's Dirty Dancing?"

"Honestly, Matt, I can't believe a gay man has never seen Dirty Dancing, or Footloose, or Flashdance."

"I've seen Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers," he offers.

"You're impossible."

"Killer Klowns From Outer Space?"

I make a face.

"Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama?"

"Alright, enough highbrow chat," I put my cup in the sink and grab my car keys, "let's go."

*******************************************************************************************************************

I'm so fucking bored tonight. I can see you're shocked but it does happen, even to me. I don't want to go out, I don't feel like Xbox and there's nothing on telly. I flick through the DVDs on my shelf, looking for something interesting. My finger lands on Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, the 1970s version with Donald Sutherland. I don't think I've ever seen this. It must be Matt's, he lent me some DVDs last week. I pop it in the player and go off and make some tea.

When I come back the DVD is already playing. The cup falls from my hand. That's not Invasion of the Bodysnatchers. Two bodies - two very male, very naked bodies - fill the screen. Oh sweet Mother of God, this is like those flashbacks movie psychos get just before they break out the power tools - but, instead of being back in 'Nam with helicopters and Doors music I'm back in Matt's wardrobe with grunting, sweaty, naked men...

I sprint across the room and pull the bloody thing out of the player, handling it like it's toxic waste. I should have looked at the disc before I put it in: there's no title on it, just a date. I put it back in the box and hide the box under the couch cushions. I don't want it on my shelf, where it can leer at me and molest all my other DVDs.

It stays under there for three days and I'm always aware of it, it feels like it's haunting my house, lurking around every corner and waiting for me in my shower. I see naked people! On the fourth day I meet Matt in a pub and shove the box into his hands. I must look pissed off because he frowns at it.

"What, you didn't like it?"

"There were too many sex scenes for my liking."

He opens the box.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Sorry?"

"And?"

"It'll never happen again."

"Hmm."

"I think I owe you a drink."

"I think you owe me a pub's worth of drinks."

**************************************************************************************************************************

Okay - where am I, who am I and how did I get here? I hear a cat purring and it starts coming back to me. Another party at Christine's. Damn her and her chemistry set! I had a green drink, then a pink one, I think the one after that was purple. I must have passed out somewhere along the way. Is this one of her spare rooms? It might be easier to tell if I was on the bed instead of under it. I turn my head and come face to face with the cat, I can just see it in the dim light. A paw taps my nose.

The door opens and someone stumbles in. Make that two someones. I hear voices, familiar voices, then one of them moans.

"Oh, Dom..."

No! This can't be happening again. It just can't!

But it is.

They land on the bed above me. I should just announce myself, leave and let them shag each other senseless. But I'm still half-pissed, which means my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I seem to be dead from the waist down. I'm stuck here. Shit. Moans and slurping sounds drift down to me. The bedsprings creak and rattle above me. Well, this is a fun way to spend Saturday night and no mistake: lurking under a bed while a couple have sex on it, like the killer in a slasher film. What's the one where Kevin Bacon lies on a bed and gets an arrow through his neck? I can't remember. Matt would know, but -

"Harder, Matt, harder!"

 - he's a bit busy right now.

All the movement is driving the cat crazy. It reaches up and hooks its claws into the underside of the bed and holds on. Now its arse is dangling in my face. They're really going for it now and the poor bed is shaking so much I'm sure it's about to break and crush me.

At least I'll die with a mouth full of pussy.

Somehow, and I'm not sure how, the bed stays in one piece as they shake, rattle and roll their way to orgasm. Oh, thank Christ, it's all over. And my night can't get any worse, can it?

The cat pisses on my face.

***************************************************************************

"Tom!"

Fuck, not so loud! I slept under the bed at Christine's and crawled out about an hour ago. The living room was full of dead people - or maybe they were just unconscious, it was hard to tell. I stumbled out in search of painkillers and coffee, but found Matt and Dom instead. How can they look so good when I feel so bad? I bet they're not even hung over.

Bastards, both of them.

"Where did you go last night?" asks Matt, "we couldn't find you."

"You don't want to know."

"Did you have fun at the party?" They smirk at each other and Dom slips an arm around Matt's waist, "we did."

They really do make me sick.
hannah_chapter1: (Airplane)
Title: Roll The Dice
Author: hannah_chapter
Summary: AU. Office series. Two office workers play a game.
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: When you hit me, hit me hard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is fiction.

This one is a little birthday gift for starlight_myth.


There is nothing quite like having a quiet night in with your boyfriend. Don't get me wrong, a night out with friends - a few drinks and some good company - is great, it really is. As a matter of fact, we went out with Tom last Friday night, to a party at a big country house. Dom and I did the Time Warp and Tom wandered outside and into a shed where the owners keep rabbits. When we finally found him he was sitting on the floor with three bunnies on his lap, singing "Bright Eyes" while they used him as a toilet.

Tonight, though, is just for me and Dom. A night of simple pleasures: a meal, some wine, a DVD ... and some filthy, filthy sex. Well, come on - quiet doesn't have to mean boring. We're in my bedroom, both as naked as the day we were born. Dom's blindfolded and handcuffed to my bed. I lean over him and run a fur-covered mitt over his ribs. He squirms and I do it again. He moans.

"What - what is that?"

"Guess."

I run the mitt over his stomach. He's panting now.

"Is it, umm, one of those cleaning gloves you get in the supermarket?"

"It might be."

He pouts.

"I'm not a piece of furniture!"

"No," I run the mitt over him again, "but you are dirty. So very, very dirty. Aren't you?"

He says nothing so I take the mitt away, ignoring his protests.

"Aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm dirty."

"You certainly are. You need a good clean."

I play with him for awhile, running the mitt over his most sensitive areas and driving him wild. Then I throw the mitt to the side, settle myself between Dom's legs and blow on his cock, watching it twitch. He whimpers as I lick him.. But then everything goes to shit. The buzzer in my living room goes off: someone is outside the main door, ringing my bell. And there's only one person it could be at this time of night. I sit up, get the handcuff keys and set Dom free. He pulls his blindfold off and blinks at me.

"What's going on?"

"I think Tom is outside."

"Oh."

I put my robe on and go to answer the buzzer, bidding a fond farewell to my erection as I do so. I push the button.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Bellamy?"

"Yes."

"I'm Officer Morgan. Do you know a Thomas Kirk?"

I close my eyes. I can actually hear Tom in the background, singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight."

"Yes officer, I know him."

"Could you come down here, sir?"

"Just give me a minute to get dressed."

I go back in to Dom. I pick up his trousers and hand them to him.

"Here, you'd better get dressed and come downstairs with me. I might need your help."

We dress and I make sure I have my keys before we go outside. In the lift Dom wraps his arms around me from behind and squeezes me gently. Pushing open the main door, I stop dead and can actually feel my jaw dropping. Oh. My. God. Tom is wearing high heels, a leather skirt, a tight, sparkly top and a bright red wig. He picked up a pair of fake tits somewhere - or maybe he managed to grow a pair since the last time I saw him. Either way, he's sporting a set of boobs that would make Dolly Parton jealous. Even a homo like me could get horny looking at that. He's wearing makeup as well and he obviously knows nothing about such things. He looks like the bastard lovechild of the Joker and Pennywise. Tom sees us and points a finger.

"Ossifer, arrest that man."

"What man would that be, Mr. Kirk?"

Tom suddenly realises he's pointing at a bin so he swings around and points at Dom.

"That man. Arrest him!"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Poss ... possess ... he has a deadly weapon!"

"Does he, now?"

"Yes he does. Get him to pull his trousers down, go on!"

The officer ignores him and beckons me over.

"I caught him trying to put a shopping trolley on top of a bus shelter. I should arrest him but, to be honest, I just can't face the paperwork this would generate. I'll make a deal with you: take him off my hands and keep him off the streets and I'll forget the whole thing."

I sigh. One thing I can never understand is how Tom can lose his wallet, his keys and any common sense he ever had, but he never forgets my address. The lunatic in question shimmies over and tries to pole dance, using the officer as a pole. Dom and I peel him off.

"We'll take care of him, officer, thank you."

He leaves and we drag Tom inside, trying to stop him from singing and waking my neighbours. When we get him up to my flat he falls backwards onto my couch. His legs fall open and we get a good look at the pink thong under the skirt. I try to help him and he scrambles to his feet.

"Hands off the goods. I know your game. You're just dying to get your hands on a fine piece of arse like me, aren't you?"

"You wish. Why would I be interested? You're dressed as a woman, and a fucking ugly one at that."

"Don't you start with me. Think you're better than me just because your cock's bigger than mine. And you," he rounds on Dom, "just because you've got a, a," he flaps his hands "elephant trunk swinging between your legs you think you're special."

I shake my head.

"I can't talk to you when you're off your head." I wave a hand at the couch. "Sleep it off and I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Fine, I will!", he flops onto the couch, "you can go now. Little gay boys can go have little gay sex and I'll sleep out here."

We leave him to it. In my bedroom we undress and get into bed. Dom is the first to break the silence.

"Elephant trunk?"

"Right, I suppose I should explain that."

I tell Dom about the birthday thing. I would have kept it to myself but Tom forced my hand. Well, he's only got himself to blame. Dom bites his lip thoughtfully.

"That explains a few things. If I'd known I was on display I would have put on more of a performance."

"Trust me, you did fine. Better than fine."

We laugh together.

"Is Tom okay out there?"

"He's fine. I just hope I don't get evicted over this," I shrug, "ah, who cares, my lease runs out just after Christmas."

"What will you do then?"

"I'll have to think about it and talk to my landlord."

"You could always move in with me."

I sit up. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I mean, this, what we have, it's long term, I think so, anyway. Don't you?"

"I do. It has to be, I think you've ruined me for any other man."

He pulls me down to him and kisses me deeply.

"So Matt, would you like to have some little gay sex?"

"Nothing little about it." He giggles. "I'm not really in the mood anymore, to be honest."

"How about a little gay cuddle, then?"

"Okay."

I cuddle into Dom's chest and he kisses the top of my head. Who ever would have thought, back when Dom was blowing me in lifts and tying me up and fucking the shit out of me that, as a boyfriend, he would be so, well, fluffy. The spell is soon broken. We hear Tom stumbling into the bathroom and the sound of vomiting.

"I'd better make sure he's alright."

"Do you need some help?"

"No, it's okay," I get out of bed, "you do know that if I move in with you this kind of thing will happen on a semi-regular basis, don't you?"

"I know," he grins, "but you're worth it."

In the bathroom, Tom's upchucked all over himself. I strip off his girly get-up and force him into the shower. When he's clean I find him an old pair of pyjamas and dump his dirty stuff in a black plastic bag. By the time I get back to bed Dom's asleep. So much for a quiet night in.

*********************************************************************************************************************

'Tis the season for Christmas parties and tonight we're at the company one. I'm sitting at a table and listening to Dawn, who rivals Tom for nonsensical speeches when she's had a few:

"Because I'm tomorrow's woman in today's world and I want it yesterday. My boots are made for walking and I'm in the driver's seat. I work hard, I play hard and I get hard. I'm a man's woman - and no man can tame me."

She turns to me. "Know what I mean, Matty?"

"Sure, why not."

Dom comes back from the bar. He looks at the couples on the dancefloor and holds out a hand.

"May I have this dance?"

"People will see us."

"So what? They already know we're a couple."

"Go on, Matt," Dawn decides to chime in, "get out there and dance like the funky bitch you know you can be."

I take Dom's hand and  we take to the floor just as a slow number starts. Dom wraps his arms around me and holds me close.

"Everyone's looking at us."

"Well, we are very attractive."

I give up and decide to just go with the flow. I bury my face in his neck and he strokes my hair.

"Let them stare. I love you Matthew Bellamy, and I don't care who knows it."

**********************************************************************************************************

Dom straightens up.

"Is that all of it."

"Pretty much."

"You don't have much stuff."

"I have enough," I hold up a big basket. "Look what Tom gave me, a moving in present."

"Is that the famous basket? The one that was supposed to be a birthday gift?"

"The very same. I never thought to ask him about it."

I see mischief in Dom's eyes.

"Let's bring it into the bedroom. Into our bedroom."

I shiver when he says that. It's our bedroom. I'm actually doing this. I'm moving in with someone. I follow him, dump the basket on the bed and we start going through it. Tom's ... thorough, I'll give him that. Look at all this stuff. A ball-gag, fur-lined cuffs, a vibrator, scented lube, oh yes, we'll have lots of fun with all this. Dom delves into the basket and pulls out a pair of dice.

"Look what I found! Foreplay dice!"

"What the fuck are foreplay dice?"

"You've never heard of them?"

I shake my head.

"Oh Matt, you don't know what you're missing. Here, take a look."

He passes them to me. They're funny looking dice, with words where dots should be. One die has the words LICK, MASSAGE, TOUCH, STROKE, SUCK, KISS on it. The other one refers to parts of the body: LIPS, NIPPLES, FACE, FEET, BELLY and ROLLER'S CHOICE. Okay, I get it now. Dom waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Want to play a game?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Take your clothes off."

"You're not the boss of me." Even as I say the words I'm setting the basket on the floor and stripping. Dom follows suit and we kneel on the bed, facing each other. He picks up the dice, shakes them and rolls them. KISS LIPS is the first result. He leans forward and brushes our lips together. When I try to deepen the kiss he pulls away.

"No, no tongues. Come on, it's your turn."

I roll the dice. LICK NIPPLES. Gladly. I push Dom into his back and flick my tongue over his nipples before sitting up again and giving him the dice.

"Go again."

He does. TOUCH FACE. His fingertips trace the outline of my face and dance over my cheekbones. we lose ourselves in the game, touching, kissing and massaging each other according to the whims of the dice, our arousal growing with every roll. Then Dom gets SUCK and ROLLER'S CHOICE. Before I know what's happening I'm on my back with his mouth on my cock. He doesn't waste any time, just wraps his lips around me and begins to suck. I'm so keyed up now and I know I won't last long. I feel something hot and heavy prodding my leg and I look down. Dom is grinding himself against me even as he sucks the life out of me. He brings his hand up to massage my balls, which is probably considered cheating. But, as I lose control and come in his mouth, I don't think I care. I lie, limp in the post-osgasm haze as Dom brings himself off on my leg. He collapes onto me, panting.

I think it's safe to say I like foreplay dice.
hannah_chapter1: (dunecat)
Title: The Great Outdoors
Author: hannah_chapter
Summary: AU. Latest installment of the office series. Two office workers misbehave on a company outing.
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: When you hit me, hit me hard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is fiction.


"Why do I keep getting jumped on?"

"Because you keep standing there like an idiot."

"I can't see anything!"

"Stop shooting me!"

This isn't working. I'm in Tom's house and it's just the two of us. I wanted to spend time with him but I didn't want to do anything that might lead to us spending the night in a police cell. Tom suggested a night of alcohol and Xbox, I agreed and brought over my copy of Left4Dead, which he was eager to try. But Tom has spent way too much time playing stuff like Call of Duty and fragging people online and he can't quite grasp the concept of working together, so he keeps shooting me in the back. And he thinks the appropriate response to a tank attack is to just stand there and let it smash him into the ground. He even shot the witch - twice! He drops the joypad in disgust.

"This is shit. Time for plan B. Let's get drunk."

And we do. A couple of hours pass and I'm sitting on the floor, wondering if I can make it to the kitchen without banging my head or falling over. Tom is making a speech. I think he's trying to be profound but he's making no sense at all:

"And I tell you, the merry has all gone out. It blazed for a moment and then died, like a moth that flies into a candle and lands in the christening font during the ceremony, much to the horror of the child's prissy grandmother who was stood there with a mouth like a chicken's arse even before the stricken insect Stuka'd its way into the drink, klaxons blaring and engines blazing and that's just the grandmother, but then she never liked flying, she never liked anything, the stone, cold bitch. Still, like I said to her, you've got to laugh, bitch."

I start to giggle. "What the fuck are you on about, Tommy?"

"I don't know, I forgot where I started."

He stares into his beer bottle for a minute and then looks at me. "I have to tell you something. It's going to piss you off but I can't keep it to myself anymore."

"Tell me what?"

He puts the bottle on the floor and then the story tumbles out. He tells me about how, on the night of my birthday, he hid in my wardrobe and watched Dom shagging me. I sit here, trying to process it all. Then I start laughing. I shoud be angry but, well, it's Tom. And it's such a Tom thing to do. This is the man who tried to use the cord of a venetian blind to recreate a scene from The Omen and almost choked himself. It's amazing: Dom and I have fooled around in so many places and never performed for an audience until we were in the privacy of my bedroom. The office head doesn't really count because Dom's boss had no idea. Tom looks relieved.

"You're not angry?"

"No. Just don't try it again."

"No chance. You think I want to see that again?" He shudders. "You think I want to hear or see you being fucked?" Tom gets on his hands and knees and starts to moan. "Oh Dom, fill me with your huge love sausage -"

"I don't sound like that and I definitely don't make that face."

He sits up. "How would you know?"

"We've made DVDs."

"DVDs? As in, more than one DVD?"

"Oh yeah, we're quite fond of roleplaying."

"I don't need to hear this, Matt."

"My favourite is the one where I'm the innocent, young son of a lord and Dom is the naughty stableboy who corrupts me - "

Tom puts his hands over his ears. "Not listening. La la la la...."

"Okay, I've stopped."

"Will you tell Dom?"

"Not if you don't want me to. Let's just pretend it never happened."

****************************************************************************************

This has been one of the longest weeks of my life. The weather is shit, work just drags on and on and Dom's been at some manager's conference for two weeks. I've missed him so much, even if my body was happy to take some time off. I miss having him in my bed, having his body pressed against mine, even his soft snoring in my ear.

But it's not all bad. Yesterday was fun, in a mean kind of way. One of the other guys in the office, a man everyone hates, went to a party last weekend and fell asleep in one of the bedrooms. Someone found him there, lying on a bed in his underwear and with his hand shoved down the front of his boxers. They took a picture, made copies and stuck them up in the toilets - gents and ladies. I saw it when I went to the bathroom at lunchtime, a nice colour photo with the words "Come and get me, big boy" scrawled on it. I think it falls into the 'funny when it isn't you' category.

Best of all, Dom's coming home tonight. He let me use his car while he was away and I'm picking him up at the airport. I'm looking at the big board and trying to find his flight number when I hear a voice calling me. I turn and there he is, pulling his suitcase along the floor. We just look at each other for a few seconds. Then he lets go of the suitcase and wraps me in his arms.

He kisses the top of my head. "I missed you."

I can see people staring but I don't care. "I missed you, too."

Dom follows me out to the car and I throw his suitcase in the boot. When I get in the car Dom's already in the passenger seat with his eyes closed.

I put on my seatbelt. "Mine or yours?"

The eyes stay closed. "Yours."

Dom perks up a bit once we get to my flat. He drags me to the bedroom and pins me to the wall beside the door. He kisses me and I close my eyes, then open them again as a depressingly practical thought occurs to me. I push him away gently.

"I just want to make sure I locked my front door."

"Don't take too long."

I go back, find my keys and lock the door. Returning to the bedroom, my jaw drops. He's asleep! I was gone for less than a minute and, in that time, Dom took off his shoes, lay down and passed out. My irritation fades when I remember something he told me just before he left: he hates long train, plane and car journeys because he just can't fall asleep. He can doze for a minute or two and that's it. Poor thing, he must be exhausted. Moving carefully, I strip him and get him under the covers. I undress and slip in beside him. He sighs and cuddles me.

"Make it up to you," he mutters.

"I know you will."

"Love you."

I smile in the dark. "I love you, too."

The only reply I get is a gentle, buzzing snore. I close my eyes and join him in dreamland.

I wake just before dawn. A hand is moving up and down my thigh, seducing me out of sleep, enticing me with the promise of something better than sleep. I stretch.

"It's early."

"I know. But I'm awake now and I couldn't wait."

I feel his erection pressing against me. I'm just as anxious as he is but I can't resist teasing him a little.

"Do you want something, Dom?"

"Yes. You."

I roll onto my back and pull him on top of me.

"Well, if you insist."

****************************************************************************************

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Come on Matt, it'll be fun."

"No it won't. I hate shit like this."

I really, really do. I hate company activities and I really hate paintballing. I've been roped into it a couple of times and I always get stuck with the idiots who've seen too many war films. But Dom wanted to involve as many people in his division as he could and he begged and he pleaded until I gave in. We listen to the instructor as he tells us the rules and then spends another ten minutes warning us not to take off the goggles or eat the paintballs.

Dom is on the blue team and I'm on the red team. He runs off and I walk through the woods, hoping someone will shoot me so I can fuck off back to the car. Then a hand grabs my arm and pulls me into a bush. Dom smirks at me.

"Hello, lover."

"Shouldn't we be shooting each other?"

"We could do that. But I'd much rather sleep with the enemy."

He pulls me up a hill and shoves me against a tree. I drop my gun, turn and wrap my arms around the tree. My cock is already beginning to stiffen. I'm so fucking easy. One snap of his fingers and I just roll over for him. He pulls my trousers and underwear down and I shiver in the cool morning air.

I hear the click of a cap and then his finger, slippery with lube, slides into me. He brought lube with him?

"You planned this."

"Oh yes. I thought it was time I thanked you properly for the blowjob in my office."

I gasp as he pushes into me. I cling to the tree with one hand and stroke myself with the other as he begins to thrust. I can see people below us, stalking each other, shooting each other, doing little victory dances. I suddenly realise I'm still wearing the stupid goggles but my hands are busy, so they'll have to stay on. Well, the instructor did tell us to keep them on at all times. A stick snaps somewhere to the left and I whimper, the threat of discovery spurring me to new heights. My reaction does not go unnoticed.

"Do you like this? Knowing that, at any minute, someone could walk by, see you getting fucked...."

I tilt my head back and moan.

Dom licks my neck.

"Filthy. Little. Slut."

He punctuates each word with a hard thrust and the last one finishes me off. I bite my own tongue as I come but I feel no pain. I hold the tree, barely feeling Dom's last thrust as he falls over the edge. He pants into my ear, then kisses it.

"See? I told you it would be fun."
hannah_chapter1: (Airplane)
Title: Oral Presentation
Author: hannah_chapter
Summary: AU. Sequel to .... ah, to hell with it, I'm just going to call this the office series. Two office workers, a shower and a desk.
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: When you hit me, hit me hard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is fiction.


I'm trying to get my breath back. That's the third time he's had me tonight. Good God, the man's insatiable. Dom rolls onto his back.

"How did your week go?"

"It was fine."

"Anybody giving you shit?"

"Sort of - I've been getting funny looks, hearing whispers, that kind of thing."

"Same here. Does it bother you?"

"Not really. I think it'll stop after what happened today."

"What happened?"


I'm sitting at my desk and talking to Dawn, the girl who works beside me. She's sitting on my desk and bitching about a well known fast food chain.

"And you can't get off with Ronald McDonald no matter how hard you try." She sighs. "And God knows I tried."

"You might have better luck with the Burger King."

She shudders. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"What's wrong with the King? Royalty not good enough for you?"

"Matt, if I want to have sex with a man who has only one facial expression, I'll go back to my ex."

Our banter is interrupted by June and Alison, the girls from Friday night. They've been hovering for the last ten minutes, reminding me of vultures - if vultures shopped at M&S. Now June comes up to me and smirks.

"Hi Matt, doing anything this weekend?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure yet."

She raises her voice and, as I look around, I see other people leaning in, trying to hear, hoping for more juicy gossip. "What about last weekend? Do anything nice then?"

Right, I've had enough of this. "As a matter of fact, I did. I went out with my boyfriend. He was promoted a few months back and we never got a chance to celebrate. Friday was my birthday, so we had a big night out. We went for a meal, had a few drinks, then we went back to my place and he shagged the arse off me."

Dawn cackles wildly and June blushes, mumbles something, then legs it back to her desk with Alison hot on her heels. Dawn squeezes my shoulder.

"Good on you, Matt. Ignore those bitches, they're just jealous. I'm a bit jealous myself. Why do the two hottest men in this company have to be gay?"



Dom finally stops laughing.

"Nice work. Tell you what, I'll take you to lunch on Monday. I'll walk right up to your desk and we'll go out together. When people see us acting like we've nothing to hide they'll forget us and move onto something else."

"Sounds good."

Dom hugs me to him and closes his eyes. I hear his breathing slow and I know he's asleep. I could pass out right now, but I know I'll feel better if I have a shower first. I pull out of Dom's embrace and sniff my armpit. Eww. Definitely shower time. I go into Dom's bathroom, turn on the shower and step under the spray. The water runs over my face and I try and wipe it out of my eyes. I feel a blast of cool air - did the door open? I reach out to check and my hand hits something solid, something warm. I turn, surprised. Blinded by the water and the steam, I still know it's Dom.

Wait - I know it's Dom? Oh, that's just brilliant. It's his bathroom, you idiot. Who else is it going to be? The milkman? A really horny burglar? My vision clears and I see him standing there.

"Mind if I join you?"

"It's your shower."

"So it is. That means I can be in here if I want to be, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Dom, I suppose it does."

"Good." He smiles. "Because I have no intention of leaving."

I stand here, watching him wash himself, looking at him like I'm not quite sure what to do with him. Then his hands are on me and he doesn't mess around, spreading coconut-scented body wash on me and rinsing it off. When I'm clean he pulls me to him and kisses me. I whimper as he pins me to the cold tile, his lips leaving mine and blazing a hot trail down my neck. We kiss again and again and thrust against each other. We come together and I watch our combined bodily fluids swirling down the drain. I can't believe we've never done it in the shower before. No mess to clean up, it all just washes away. Ingenious. We dry off, go to bed and fall asleep in each other's arms.


***********************************************************************************************

True to his word, Dom appears at my desk on Monday and asks me to join him for lunch. He places his hand on the small of my back and we walk out with our heads held high. We go to the restaurant down the street. I often meet Tom here. Thinking of Tom, I feel a bit guilty. I haven't seen him much lately, too wrapped up in Dom. Halfway through the meal I look up and see the man in question, walking past the window. I leave the table, go outside and call him.

"Tom! Hey, Tommy!"

Tom turns and walks back to me.

"Come and have lunch with us. I want you to meet Dom."

I bring him inside and make the introductions. The waitress comes by and Tom orders a coffee, he says he's not hungry. He seems a bit, well, off today. He's fumbling with a sugar sachet when I jokingly refer to Dom as "big boy." Tom's sugar goes all over his trousers. The lunch limps along awkwardly, with Tom keeping his head down and responding to questions with mumbles. I make one last effort to include him in the conversation, telling Dom about the neighbour, the mad trampoline man.

"Is he still at it?"

Tom sips his coffee. "Yeah, it's getting so I'm afraid to go into my kitchen."

I nudge him playfully. "Liar. I bet you're in there every day, filming him through the window."

Dom raises an eyebrow. "How about it, Tom? Are you a bit of a voyeur?"

At the word "voyeur" Tom spills his coffee all over the table. He swears and mops it up with a napkin. Dom watches all this and then excuses himself and goes off to the bathroom.

Tom gets up. "I have to go."

"Why? What's wrong with you today? Is it me? Did I do something to piss you off?"

"No, it's just me. I've got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Things, stuff. Look, I have to be somewhere. Say goodbye to Dom for me."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine." He smiles and I see the old Tom shining through. "I really do have to go, though. We'll get together soon, yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"Bye, sweetcheeks."

"Later, sugar tits."

***************************************************************************************************


"He hates me."

We're on my couch and I'm lying sideways with my head on Dom's lap as we watch old episodes of Blackadder. I lie on my back and look up at him.

"Who hates you?"

"Your friend. That Tom guy. He hates me."

"He does not."

"He wouldn't even look at me."

"He wouldn't look at me, either. He was in a weird mood today."

"I still say he hates me."

"He just doesn't know you, all he knows is what he's heard from me. And you did mess me around at the start."

"Have I or have I not apologised? Haven't I made it up to you since?"

"You have."

"There you go, then. Look, I know it was a bit arseways to begin with, but we're together now. At least I made a move. If it was up to you, we'd still be in the lift with you mooning over me. You're not what I'd call spontaneous, Matt."

"Oh, really? Bumming you in a toilet cubicle, what would you call that?"

"An amazing shag. But I'd also call it a case of you finishing something I started."

"I can be spontaneous."

"Can you? Or are you all talk? Would you actually have the nerve to give me head in my office?"

I don't know what to say to that, so I turn my attention back to the television. Dom runs his hand through my hair.

"Don't sulk, baby. I didn't say it was a bad thing."

*************************************************************************************************

I'll show him, I'll show him spontaneous. I roll my neck, trying to work the kinks out of it. Being a small man can have advantages - if, let's just say, you decide to hide under your boyfriend's desk and surprise him when he comes back from lunch, being small does make it easier to fit into that cramped space. Still not too comfortable, though. I hear Dom come in and it's better than I hoped; he's not alone. There's another man in the office, someone higher up, if the way Dom is talking to him and calling him "sir" is anything to go by. Dom sits and his foot hits me. He looks down, his eyes widen and he looks away quickly, turning his attention back to his guest.

"Forgive me if I'm getting too personal, Dominic, but I heard a rumour about you."

"What rumour would that be, sir?"

"I heard you were involved with another employee, a male employee in your division."

"Is that a problem? Do you have something against homosexuals, sir?"

"Of couse not. But do you think it's acceptable behaviour, being involved with someone when you're their manager?"

"We were together before I was promoted. And I am quite capable of keeping my personal and professional lives seperate."

I bite my lip to stop myself giggling. I can't help it: such a nice speech, you'd never guess the man giving it tossed me off on this very desk.

The bossman lets the matter drop, they get down to business and so do I. I start with light touches, stroking Dom through his trousers. His cock stirs beneath my fingers and Dom slides down in his chair, giving me better access. Hmm, I think he likes this. My fingers undo the button on his trousers, then I pull down his zipper - slowly, so very slowly, taking my time, torturing him. Hot pink boxers today. Not quite as nice as the leopard print ones, but still nice.

I draw him out of his boxers but I don't suck him, not right away. I move my head so my mouth is almost, but not quite, touching his cock, close enough for him to feel my breath on his skin. I stay like this for a couple of  minutes, teasing him. Then I flick my tongue over the head of his cock, his whole body spasms and he whimpers.

"Dominic? Are you alright?"

"Fine, I just had a cramp. Please, continue. I'd like to hear more."

That sounds innocent enough, but I hear and understand the hidden message. More? Oh, I'll give him more, all he could ever want. I lick him again and again, running my tongue along his length, savouring the taste of him. Somehow, he keeps control, keeps talking to the other man. I take him into my mouth and suck him slowly, just the way he likes it. This is dangerous, I know it, but I can't stop. I know it's going to happen: Dom will come, he'll scream and then we'll really be in the shit. But then we're saved by the bell. Just as I feel Dom's control slipping, I hear a mobile ringing.

"I'm sorry, Dominic, I have to take this. We'll have to pick this up later."

Dom grunts something noncommital as I hear the other man get up and leave, answering his phone as he goes. As soon as the door shuts I go for broke, sucking Dom hard and fast. I've had him on the edge for so long and he soon tumbles over, cursing and pulling my hair violently as he comes in my mouth. I take all he has to give, then let him go. Wiping my mouth, I smile up at him.

"How was that? Spontaneous enough for you?"
hannah_chapter1: (Airplane)
Title: Behind Closed Doors
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: AU. (Yet another!) sequel to Going Down, Call of Nature, Board Meeting and Bound. Two office workers in a bedroom again, this time with an unwilling third party: "Oh Thomas, how do you get yourself into these things?"
Feedback: I love it when you talk dirty.
Disclaimer: Nothing real here, I own nothing.
Warning: Language (Ooh!), drug references (Ahh!) sex (Eee!) and trampolines (Wait, what?).
Notes: Yes, I said I'd only write four. I changed my mind, what's wrong with that? Don't you judge me! I don't need you! I DON'T NEED ANY OF YOU! I'll just start my own museslash community! With blackjack! And hookers!
Okay, seriously, all credit is due to unomusette, her comment about how Tom deserved a fic of his own gave me an idea for another one of these. You all loved Tom so here he is, all the Tom you could ever want, to hold and squeeze and fondle. Enjoy.


I've been in some sticky situations over the years but I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I'd end up hiding in my friend's bedroom one night, watching another man fuck his brains out.

Oh Thomas, how do you get yourself into these things?

Let's rewind:

I've known Matt since I was fourteen, when he sat next to me at school. I didn't like him much at first, I thought he was a stuck up little prick. But then he came to school one day with a Queen badge on his bag. Now, I've always loved Queen, I grew up with them. I remember being on the school bus when I was six or seven, hearing "Radio Ga Ga" for the first time. And I'm not ashamed to admit I cried a bit when I heard the awful news about Freddie.

Anyway, Matt wasn't stuck up at all, just a bit shy. Once I got to know him I realised he was smart, funny and sweet. We got talking that day, about Queen and all the other bands we liked and that was it, we were friends. We studied together, partied together - we spent so many nights at raves, off our heads on Ecstasy, dancing and hugging each other and laughing like twats.

He came out to me even before he came out to his parents. I told him I didn't really care, which was true. Gay, straight, all the same to me, he was still my friend. I even went with him to tell his family. They were a bit surprised, obviously, but accepted it. When we were seventeen, I really wanted to steal the giant, inflatable tiger from the top of the Esso station. I was going to do it, I had a plan and everything. Matt talked me out of it. He said my plan was shit and I'd get myself arrested or killed. And he was probably right. That's what he does - he's the quiet one, the sane man. I dream up the wild schemes and do the crazy shit. Matt talks me down when he can, picks up the pieces when he can't. This is how it's always been.

But then a blond stranger waltzed into Matt's life. I couldn't believe it when he told me. Matt, getting head from a complete stranger in a lift? Impossible: Matt doesn't do things like that. But he did, one look at his face told me he wasn't lying. Then they shagged in a toilet and I really began to hate this guy. Who did he think he was, messing around with Matt like that? I hated seeing my friend so upset, I don't care how good the sex was.

Then came the weekend of Christine's party, which I went to by myself, since Matt had plans. That was a good night for me, even if I did wake up on Christine's couch the following morning to find her cat trying to sit on my face. No joke, I opened my eyes and this black, furry bum was hovering over my face, like a spaceship getting ready to dock. But I was indoors and I hadn't lost my trousers, so yeah, a good night.

I met Matt on Monday and we had lunch. He was still a bit vague about how he'd spent the weekend - he was with his new guy, that's all he'd say -  and he looked a bit out of it. Big, black circles under his eyes, so he hadn't slept much and he kept shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable. But he was happy. I still had my doubts about this guy - his name's Dom, apparently - but Matt's a big boy now and he can make his own decisions.

I haven't seen much of Matt over the last two months. He's been too busy with Dom, they're "pwoper boyfriends" now. I still haven't met the man: Matt's been keeping his blond lustbucket firmly under wraps. I've been busy myself and I've had problems of my own, mainly with my neighbour. Our back gardens are seperated by a small fence and he likes to go out into his garden and bounce on his trampoline - stark, bollock naked. It's unreal. I'll be standing in my kitchen, wearing three layers of clothes and still freezing and he'll be out there, bouncing up and down, balls blue in the breeze.

Trying to deal with that has taken up too much time and I really wanted to catch up with Matt. Today is his birthday and I called him last week, thinking we'd go out for a meal or a drink or something. But no, Matt already had plans. Dom was taking him out to dinner and they were going to Peppino's. Almost fell off my chair when he told me that. Peppino's! Fancy doesn't even begin to describe that place. You'd have to sell your soul and Christ knows what else for the soup alone. There's a ten week waiting list just to go through their bins. This is getting serious.

Then I had one of my brilliant ideas. I spent the afternoon trawling through sex shops, putting together a special birthday package for Matt. Toys, lube, I even threw in some silky black boxer shorts. I couldn't find a silver marker pen, which is a shame. I wanted to write something witty on the boxers. "My cock is in here ... somewhere" or something like that. I have a key to Matt's place and he has a key to mine. We're porn buddies: if one of us dies, the other goes to his house and gets rid of the filth, so grieving parents won't find it. I was going to let myself in and leave the basket on the coffee table, where he couldn't miss it.

And that's where it all went so very wrong. I was there, about to drop the stuff and leave when I heard the front door open. Don't ask me why I did this because I don't know. I should have stayed where I was, explained myself and then left them to it. That's what I should have done. What I did do was panic and run into Matt's bedroom, still with the basket in my arms. I don't know, maybe I thought I could climb out the window. But Matt lives on the tenth floor. I heard them coming closer and I did the only thing I could think of: I hid in Matt's wardrobe. He's got one with those doors - lever doors? Louvre doors? Fuck it, you know the ones I'm talking about. The ones with the slats, which mean I can look out.

They came in, talking and laughing and half-pissed and I finally got to see the famous Dom. Eh, he's alright I suppose. Nothing to write home about. I wouldn't even file him under "I'm not gay but if I was, I definitely would." Umm, you know, if I actually did that. Which I don't. Ever.

"They saw us." Matt's voice.

"Who did?"

"Those two girls. They work near me and they saw us kissing at the taxi rank. It'll be all over the office by Monday."

"Is that a problem?"

"You're my boss."

"So what? It's not against the rules and if anyone asks, we were together before I got promoted, which we were. Kind of. It'll be fine, Matt. Just, you know, keep the whole shagging in the office to ourselves."

"There goes next week's Powerpoint presentation."

They started giggling and then they were kissing and pulling at each other's clothes. I tried not to look, I really did but fuck it, I'm only human. When Matt's underwear came off my eyes widened. I think his cock's bigger than mine! Bastard. Then I got a look at Dom and holy fucking shit! That's not a penis, that's an offensive weapon. No wonder Matt can't sit down. His bum must be wider than a train tunnel by now.

I put the basket on the floor beside me and actually started to take my cock out, just to do a quick compare and contrast, but stopped myself in time. Thank fuck for that, if I did get it out something would have gone wrong, like me falling out of the wardrobe in front of them. Lying on the floor of a bedroom with my cock out while two naked men kick the shit out of me, some men might pay good money for that - or even just for pictures of it - but it's just not my bag, baby.

They were still kissing and fondling each other the next time I looked out. Then Dom broke the kiss.

"What would you like, Matt? It's your birthday, we're in your bedroom, it's up to you. Whatever you want, I'll do it."

Matt kissed him again. "I think I'd like a good, hard shag, please."

There you have it. That's how I ended up here: trapped in a wardrobe, watching my friend on his hands and knees, getting it from behind. Again, I'm trying not to look but I can't help myself. It's like watching a car crash, I can't look away. A sweaty, grunting car crash. They're facing the wardrobe, just to give me a really good look at their sex faces. And then there's the sounds, especially from Matt, lots of grunting and moaning and "Yeah" and "Harder" and even "Fill me with your huge cock." It's like being trapped in a really cheesy porn. All we need is a couple of guys with a sax and a wah-wah pedal. Why do I get the feeling I'll be lying on a couch and telling a psychiatrist about this some day? Are they done yet? I look out and-

AHHHH! MY EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"O" Face! Double "O" Face!!!!

Fuck the psychiatrist. I'm going to spend the rest of my life sitting in a corner. Drawing on the walls. In my own poo.

They fall on the bed and lie there for a bit. Then they get up and start moving around, going in and out of the bathroom. Neither of them even looks at the wardrobe. They climb into bed and I wait for them to fall asleep. But they just keep kissing and cooing at each other. Oh, come on! They've been drinking, they've been shagging, they're MEN! Why aren't they unconscious?

"So, we're not shagging at work anymore?" This is Matt.

"I thought you didn't want to. Too dangerous, you said."

"I know, but I'd really love to give you a blowjob in your office."

"You would?"

"Yeah, think about it. You, having a very important meeting. Me, under your desk, sucking your cock, trying to make you lose control-"

Dom grabs him and that's it, they're off again. Matt's on top this time. But they're under the duvet, so I can't really see anything. I can still hear them, though. They finally finish and, thank you Jesus, go to sleep. I wait until I'm sure they're really out of it, then I creep out, taking my basket with me. They don't move. Matt never needs to know about this. This Dom guy, maybe he's not so bad, he obviously cares for Matt and they do make a cute couple. Sort of. Maybe it'll all work out. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I need to get really drunk and forget this night ever happened.

Bound

Jan. 6th, 2011 02:55 pm
hannah_chapter1: (Fatrix)
Title: Bound
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: AU. Sequel to Going Down, Call of Nature and Board Meeting. Two office workers get naughty in a bedroom. Lights, camera, bondage.
Feedback: Go for it.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, never have, never will, this isn't real.


Tom looks around the coffee shop. "Why is is so dark in here?"

"You're still wearing your sunglasses."

"Ah." He takes them off. "That would explain it."

"Why were you even wearing them? It's raining."

"I just got them and I wanted to try them out. What do you think?"

"They make you look like you're from LA."

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Smartarse. Oh, before I forget, Christine is having a party tomorrow night. Are you coming?"

"No. I'm never going to a party with you again. Not after the last time."

"What? It was fantastic. I had a great time."

"You made a complete tit of yourself."

"Did I?" He frowns. "Actually, now that you mention it, things did get a bit blurry towards the end. How did I finish the night?"

"Completely arseholed and tied to the roofrack of a Range Rover."

"Again? Will you change your mind if I promise to behave this time?"

"No, because we both know you won't. Anyway, I have plans for the weekend." Filthy plans. Naked plans.

It's really happening, it wasn't just some dirty talk to pass the time as we played with each other's cocks. Dom - it feels strange to be calling him that after so many months of thinking of him just as, well, him - proved that yesterday, in the lift, appropriately enough. The second the doors closed he was pressing up against me, whispering obscene promises in my ear. It's a miracle I made it out of the lift, let alone the building.

Tom is staring at me, waiting for all the filthy details, but I'm saying nothing. This is something I want to keep, not for sharing. He pouts.

"You're no fun anymore."

"I'm sorry. Would it help if I did a striptease in the middle of a supermarket?"

"That was a misunderstanding. And they dropped the charges."

"How does that old lady feel about that?"

"Can we change the subject now?"

I finish my coffee. "I have to go back to work."

Tonight's the night. This is the thought that's been playing in my head since I woke up. I try to push it to the back of my mind and concentrate on my work, but it's impossible. It keeps creeping back. I'm in the break room, pushing buttons and waiting for my coffee cup to fill when Dom walks in. He only looks at me for a second as he sorts through his change and pushes coins into the drinks machine but it's enough. I look away quickly, not wanting anyone to see how being in the same room as him for less than a minute affects me. He takes his bottle of water and leaves, smiling at the three women by the door. The second he leaves they start buzzing like bees. I'm obviously not the only one affected by him. One of them actually starts going on about all the things she'd like him to do to her - on a desk.

Sorry ladies, I got there first. I'm going home with him tonight and we're going to - no, no, bad thoughts, need to keep the bad thoughts away. I finish my coffee, go back to my desk and force myself to work. I eat a big lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon watching the clock, literally. I really hate the little date/time display in the corner of my monitor and the way it makes the day crawl, minute by painful minute.

Five o' clock finally rolls around and Dom and I arrive at the lift at the same time. No flirting or fooling around today. He just stares at me and when we reach the ground floor he steps out and crooks a finger at me. I follow him to the parking garage across the road. We get into his car and, as I'm reaching for my seatbelt, he puts his hand on my arm.

"Do you want to get something to eat?"

"What?"

"Food, Matt. Are you hungry? We could stop somewhere on the way to my place."

"No, I had a really big lunch."

"Okay, maybe we'll have something later, get a pizza or something."

He puts on his own seatbelt and starts the car. I would love to put my hand on his leg but I don't want to distract him when he's driving. I stare out the window instead and curse every red light that slows us down. We manage to keep our hands off each other until we're in his lift. Then we're all over each other like a rash, mouths fused together, hands rubbing and squeezing whatever they can grab hold of.

The sound of the lift doors and a disapproving grunt snaps us out of it. A middle-aged couple, all dressed up and ready for a night out, are staring at us. We pull ourselves together and get out. They step in, still staring at us, and I can't stop myself.

"Sir, you do know I charge extra for kissing on the mouth, don't you?" The doors shut, cutting off their shocked exclamations.

Dom tuts and grabs my tie, pulling me down the hall.

"Naughty boy, embarrasing me in front of my neighbours. I think you need to be punished."

My cock twitches at the thought as he unlocks his door. Dom doesn't waste any time, bringing me right to the bedroom. He pulls the curtains, turns on the light and I see a camera, already mounted on a tripod, and a television at the foot of the bed. The sight brings me back to reality. What am I doing here? I'm in a strange place, about to let a man I know nothing about tie me up and do whatever he wants to me. He could be a serial killer for all I know. I might leave this room in a bin bag.

Dom comes over to me and I can't help myself, I start backing up.

"Something wrong?"

I don't know what to say, how to put my fear into words without offending him, but he gets it anyway. He reaches out and strokes my cheek, trying to reassure me.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not into pain, mine or anyone else's. If I do anything you don't like, just tell me and I'll stop. Trust me, Matt, I can make you feel so good if you'll let me. Do you trust me?"

His words calm me. I take his hand and press a kiss to the inside of his wrist, feeling his pulse beneath my lips.

"I trust you."

"Good." He kisses me softly. "Then we can begin."

Dom goes to the bedside table and opens a drawer, searching for something. He comes back with a couple of silk scarves. He winds one around my head a couple of times and knots it, cutting off my sight. With one hand on my shoulder and the other at my waist, he guides me further into the room. He lets me go and I stand, helpless, waiting for his next move.

I hear him moving around, then his footsteps as he returns. He licks my earlobe as he pushes the jacket off my shoulders.

"Smile for the camera."

A shiver runs through me as he strips me. My tie is next, then my shirt. My shoes and socks are pulled off and my trousers and boxers soon follow. I'm completely exposed but he's not finished yet.

"Hands behind your back."

I do as I'm told and he wraps the other scarf around my wrists, binding them together.

"Look at you, standing there, naked and helpless and already hard for me. Perfect."

His hand glides over my cock. I moan and thrust forward, seeking more contact, but his hand is suddenly gone.

"So eager. Would you like me to touch you? Would you like to come in my hand, like you did in my office?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?" An edge to his voice now.

"Yes ... sir?"

"That's better. I could touch you now, but I'm not going to. You misbehaved in the hall and I told you I'd punish you for it, so you'll have to wait. Because when you're here, with me, like this, you're mine. Mine. I control your pleasure, I decide when you come and when you don't."

I whimper. Now I know why he gets to be the one in control:  he is so fucking good at it.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"You. I belong to you, sir."

"Yes you do. That means I can do whatever I want with you, doesn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"If I want to tie you to the bed and fuck you all night long I can, can't I?"

"Yes sir. Please sir, please fuck me."

"Soon. But first things first. You owe me a proper blowjob. On your knees."

I drop, grunting softly as my knees collide with the floor. I hear the sound of his zip, my head is pulled forward and I feel his erection, brushing against my cheek. I turn my head and flick my tongue over it, feeling it twitch as he moans. I don't waste time teasing him, I just take him in my mouth and begin to suck, loving the sounds he makes as I pleasure him. Doing this to him drives me crazy with want and I pull at my restraints, desperate to touch myself. But the knots are too tight so I give up and focus all my attention on Dom. His moans increase in pitch; it won't be long now. He screams as he comes and the taste of him, rich and salty, fills my mouth.

I let him go and he pants above me, coming down from his high. He finally takes pity on my aching knees and pulls me to my feet. My hands are freed and he spends the next few minutes rubbing the feeling back into my wrists and sholuders. Then he walks me over to the bed. I crawl into the middle, feeling my way around, and lie on my back.

"Hands above your head."

I do as I'm told and feel the scarf around my wrists again, binding me to the headboard this time. I hear something thumping along the floor, probably the camera, and then I hear the whisper of cloth as he undresses. I curse the blindold for the first time. I want to see Dom naked and, more than that, I want to watch him take his clothes off.

The bed dips as he climbs on and lowers himself onto me. I can't believe it's actually happening. I've wanted this for so long: the two of us, together, no interruptions, no danger and nothing between us but the sweat on our bodies. He kisses me, long, slow kisses that tell me we have all the time in the world and his hand traces lazy circles on my stomach. He kisses his way down my throat and chest until he reaches my nipples. His tongue flicks over the left one and his fingers rub and pinch the right one, over and over again. When he's had enough of that he moves down my body, licking and nipping at my skin as he goes, until he reaches my groin. I can feel his hot breath on my cock and thrust up mindlessly, seeking contact. He chuckles.

"Getting anxious, are we? What should I do to you, Matt? Should I suck you, or should I skip the foreplay and just bury my cock in your tight little hole? Come on, don't be shy. What would you like me to do to you?"

"Anything. Everything. Whatever you want."

"Good answer."

He climbs off me and I hear the click of a cap and gasp as a slick finger slips into my core and begins to stretch me, preparing me for him. I'm suddenly aware of the sounds I'm making as he adds a second finger. I probably sound like a whore, moaning and whining like this. But that's fine, that's perfectly okay because I am a whore, a whore for him.

"I think you're ready for me now."

The fingers are removed and it's not long before something bigger is nudging at my entrance. I feel every inch of his cock, hot and satiny, as he thrusts into me. He slides all the way in on the first thrust and stops for a minute, letting me adjust to the feel of him. Then he begins to move, setting a slow and steady pace, much to my frustration.

"Harder, fuck me harder!"

"I will. When I'm ready."

"Please!"

"Oh, I like that. I like hearing you desperate, hearing you beg."

My pleas and whimpers have no effect on him as he slides slowly in and out of me, his cock just barely nudging my prostate on every other thrust. Oh God, he's killing me. I've lost all sense of time and space and my sounds have degenerated into a high, keening noise when he stops completely. I wail.

"What are you doing? Don't stop, please don't stop!"

"Not stopping." He's breathing hard now. "Just picking up the pace."

Dom snaps his hips forward and I scream as he hits my prostate. He's fucking me hard now, fucking me hard and fast, hitting my prostate with every thrust, finally giving me what I need. Almost there, almost. He grabs my cock and strokes me once, twice and that's all it takes to send me over the edge. I feel him shudder as he surges forward one last time and comes into me.

He collapses against me in a sweaty heap. He rubs his nose against mine, then kisses me.

"I wish I could stay inside you all night." So do I. "But I've got other plans for us."

He pulls out of me, pulls my blindfold off and I finally see him in all his glory. Every bit as gorgeous as I thought he'd be. He unties me but I don't move my arms. I've lost the ability to move. Dom does it for me, rubbing the marks left by the scarf. I want to stay awake, I really do, but I can't help myself. I doze off as he cleans me up.

A hand stroking my back wakes me. Dom is sitting beside me, a remote control in his other hand. He gives me a wicked smile.

"Welcome back."

"You're still awake? After all that? Are you on steroids?"

"If I was we'd still be at it."

"Was I asleep for a long time?"

"No, you were out for an hour, maybe an hour and a half."

I sit up, he reaches over to the bedside table and passes me a bottle of water. I take it and drink about half of it.

"Want something to eat?"

I set the bottle on the floor. "No, I'm not hungry yet."

He opens his arms and I crawl into them and he turns me so that we're lying with my back against his chest.

"Well then, since you're all rested up and ready to go, we may as well get started."

He picks up the remote, presses a button and the television comes to life, our most recent adventure playing out on the screen. Dom's fingers run up and down my throat and we exchange the occasional kiss as we watch ourselves. I watch Dom stripping me and bending me to his will. He's not playing to the camera, that's what gets me. I've been filmed before, talked into it by an ex-boyfriend. He spent the whole thing posing and showing off and I soon realised I was just as much of a tool as the camera, another prop in his ongoing love affair with himself. We broke up soon after.

But Dom's attention was on me, only on me and I feel my arousal grow. It's affecting him too; his kisses become more urgent and I feel his cock hardening. Dom watches himself enter me and this is the tipping point for him. His hand fists in my hair and his mouth claims mine in a kiss so fierce it leaves me breathless. He slides out from under me, grabs the lube from the table and presses it into my hand. Then he crawls into the middle of the bed and rises up on his hands and knees.

"Come on." His voice is tight with need. "Fuck me. Fuck me while we watch ourselves."

I don't waste time teasing him, I'm just as desperate as he is. I quickly prepare him, slick up my own cock and we both moan as I push into him. I keep my eyes on the screen as I thrust into Dom, fucking him while I watch him fuck me. Almost without thinking about it, I begin to match his rhythm, only speeding up my thrusts when the Dom on the screen does. Me fucking him, him fucking me - I can feel my orgasm building, the sounds coming from the man beneath me tell me he's close too. We come almost simultaneously, just before the couple on the screen. Dom falls forward, bringing me with him. We lie here, both struggling to recover.

"Matt? Did you fall asleep back there?"

I lift my head. "Hmm?"

"I want to get up. You need to get off me."

"Oh, right."

I pull out and he gets off the bed. He grabs my hand, dragging me up with him. I try to resist but he's not having any of it.

"Come on. Trust me, you'll thank me for this in the morning."

He brings me into the bathroom and turns on the shower. We stand under the spray in a motionless embrace, letting the hot water soothe our tired muscles. We dry ourselves off and go back to bed. I feel sleep approaching again and I welcome it. If tonight was any indication, I'm going to need all the rest I can get if I want to keep up with Dom.
hannah_chapter1: (Daria)
Title: Board Meeting
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: AU. Sequel to Going Down and Call of Nature. Two office workers have fun in an office. And some phone sex too, why not?
Feedback: Go for it.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, never have, never will, this isn't real.


My therapist said not to see you no more
She said you're like a disease without any cure
She said I'm so obsessed that I'm becoming a bore, oh no...

James - "Laid."


I think I might have gone too far. Our bathroom encounter left me just as breathless as our little oral adventure, so I didn't waste time trying to come up with a witty one-liner. I just pulled out, cleaned up and went on my way. Okay, that's not completely true. I didn't say anything but I took one last look at him, leaning against the wall, still gasping for breath and I couldn't stop myself: I gave his arse a quick smack. Then I skipped lunch, went home and called in sick. I couldn't go back and spend the afternoon staring at a computer monitor, not after all that.

I spent the night thinking about him - no change there, then - about what we did and what I'd do the next time I found myself sharing a lift with him. I still didn't have an answer the following day but it didn't matter, because he wasn't there. Three more days came and went and he didn't come back. It's been almost a week now and I just don't know what to do.

Tom throws a bag of peanuts at me as I return to my seat.

"Finally! I thought you might have pushed the handle too soon and gone down to the seaside."

I throw the nuts back at him. "Sorry, I was off in my own world."

"Were you having a wank?"

"Speak up, I don't think they heard that in Scotland. And no, I have a bathroom of my own for that."

"Just asking. I mean, you've been getting up to all kinds of things in toilets recently."

"For all the good it's done me in the long run."

Tom takes a drink. "Still no sign of your mystery man, then?"

"No, and it's driving me insane."

"I think you need to take your mind off it. Maybe if you went out with someone else, it might help you forget him."

"Got anyone in mind?"

"I do, as it happens. You remember Doug? You met at that party last year."

"The one that lost his temper and headbutted you when you wouldn't stop calling him DigDug?"

"That's him."

"I didn't know he was gay."

"Trust me, he is. That boy's had more pricks than a dartboard."

"Oh, very nice. I don't think he's my type. He seems a bit, well, volatile."

"Right, because strange men who shag you and then leave you high and dry are so much better. This isn't good for you, Matt."

"Believe me, I know." I rub my eyes. "Life was so much simpler when I was just horny and staring at every man that walked within two feet of me."

"You've never stared at me."

"You're one of my best friends, it wouldn't be right. Also, you look like you spent last night in a gutter."

"That's no way to talk about your mother's bed."

I give him the finger, which doesn't bother him in the slightest. "She sends her love, by the way."

We finish our drinks and go our seperate ways. I still don't know what to do, but I feel better all the same. Just having someone like Tom, someone who'll listen and not judge, is a big help. And, now that I'm thinking about it, really thinking about it instead of worrying at it like a dog with a bone, I realise I'm probably making this into a much bigger problem than it actually is. He's been gone for a week, but so what? Who says that's got anything to do with me? Maybe he's sick. Maybe he's on holiday.

These are the thoughts I comfort myself with as I get ready for bed. I fall asleep ... and am woken two hours later by my mobile phone, the opening bars of "Don't Stop Me Now" scaring the living shit out of me. Talk about a rude awakening. I've really got to get a new ringtone. I grap the phone and squint at the screen, but the caller has blocked their number. I swear, if this is a wrong number, I'm going to blast the twat on the other end of the line right into fucking orbit.

"WHAT?" Not caring if I offend anyone at two in the morning.

"Aww, did I wake you?" It's him.

"How did you get my number?"

"I have my ways."

"Your ways - are you stalking me or something? Are you outside my house right now?"

"No, but I wish I was. I just wanted to talk to you. I've missed you. Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did. I thought - never mind."

"What, you thought I was punishing you? That I was pissed off at you because of the bathroom?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." Liar, it did more than cross your mind. It danced all over it in steel-toed boots. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Why would I be angry about that? It might not have gone the way I planned, but I'm not complaining. It was the best shag I've ever had."

I feel myself blush. "Really?"

"Really. Just thinking about it makes me hard."

My boxers suddenly feel tight. "You're hard?"

"Oh yes. I'm lying here, naked and hard, so fucking hard, for you, because of you."

I moan at the thought. I want him so much. I want him here, with me, inside me.

"What about you? Are you naked?"

"Umm, no. I'm wearing boxers."

"Well, that's not right. I'm naked, it's only fair you should be naked too. Get rid of them."

I throw off the bedclothes and do as he says.

"Now, I want you to touch yourself."

I'm happy to comply but, just as I go to grip my cock, his voice stops me.

"Wait. I don't want you to use your whole hand."

"My whole - what?"

"I want you to stroke yourself, using just the tip of your first finger. Do it."

I do as he says, running my fingertip over my cock, stroking slowly from base to tip. The sensation, so new and unexpected, makes me whimper: it feels like every single nerve ending is connected to the tip of my finger, this tiny touch lighting up my whole body.

"Tell me how it feels. Does it feel good?"

"Yes, fuck yes."

He moans. "Fucking hell, the idea of you lying there, naked, touching yourself ... I wish I was there with you."

"What would you do? If you were here with me, right now, what would you do?"

"I'd kiss you. I could spend hours kissing you. But I couldn't stop there, I'd have to touch you. I'd run my hands over you, all over your chest and stomach. You can add a second finger."

I do, and speed up my strokes - just a little, I don't want this to be over too soon.

"Then what?"

"Then I'd lick my way down your chest until I reached your nipples. Think about that. Think about my tongue, flicking over your nipples, first one, then the other, again and again."

My nipples are suddenly burning, aching for his touch. I add another finger. Somehow, he senses it.

"You're using three fingers now, aren't you?"

I don't answer him, too busy breathing hard - there's no air! - and fast.

"That's okay, I don't mind. I just want to make you feel good."

His voice gets rougher but still he continues.

"When I was finished with your nipples I'd kiss my way down, over your stomach, maybe I'd stop and dip my tongue in your bellybutton before I reached that gorgeous cock of yours."

I'm gripping myself tight now, fucking my fist, wishing it was his hand I was thrusting into.

"But I wouldn't suck you, not right away. I'd tease you, licking you slowly, so slowly, holding back, keeping you right on the edge until you were begging for it. Then, when you couldn't take anymore, I'd suck you, hard and fast, until you came in my mouth."

I fall over the edge, screaming as I come all over myself. Lovely. It's only when my head clears a little that I realise I've dropped the phone, which means I missed his orgasm. I pick it up, expecting him to be gone. But he's still there.

"I thought you'd hung up on me."

"No, I just dropped the phone."

He laughs at that and so do I.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you soon." And, just like that, he's gone.

Soon turns out to be Tuesday. I come back from my coffee break and find a note on my desk, telling me to report to my new manager. Things have been changing in the upper levels of my company, some people promoted, some transferred, some dumped. It doesn't much matter to me, I'm just a drone. I keep my head down, I do my work and that's it. I never had any dealings with my old manager so, naturally, I'm shitting myself now.

I find the office in question, knock and am told to come in. I step inside and come face to face with my blond stranger. He's sitting on the desk, grinning at me.

"You? You're my new manager?" I open the door and check the nameplate. "You're Mr. Howard?"

"Oh, I think we're way past that, even if I do like the idea of you calling me sir. You can call me Dom. And which do you prefer, Matthew or Matt?"

"Matt." At least this answers one question. "This is why you were away?"

"Yep, had to go on a quick course. And when I was looking over my new employee file I found you, right near the top, all your details, including your mobile number. I couldn't sleep one night and, well, you know the rest."

"Why am I here?"

He hops off the desk. "Why do you think?"

"Here, now? We could be caught."

"Didn't bother you before."

"You could lose your promotion. We could both be fired. This isn't very professional."

"No, but who cares? I can't help it. I've been here all morning, looking at my nice, new desk and thinking about you, sitting here on the edge while we wank each other off."

He turns me, pushes me against the edge of the desk and kisses me. Our tongues meet and mate and I thrust against him, all resistance melting away. I'm soon sitting on the edge of the desk with my tackle out, watching him pull his own trousers down. He moves between my legs and kisses me again as we grip each other and begin to stroke.

I break the kiss. "You take me to the nicest places."

"You don't like my office?"

"I didn't say that. It would be nice to do something in a bed, that's all."

His hand begins to move faster and I match his pace. "Oh don't worry, we will. I'm taking you home with me this weekend. You'll walk into my bedroom on Friday evening and you won't walk out until Monday morning. Assuming, of course, you can still walk when I'm through with you."

I gasp at the thought.

"Like that, do you? I knew you would. I'm going to make you mine. I'll blindfold you, strip you down and tie you to the bed. I'll suck you and then I'll fuck you. I'll make you beg. I'll make you scream."

Thrusting into his hand, I can't last much longer. He's right there with me but he still keeps some control, just like he did on the phone.

"But that's not even the best part. I'm going to set up a camera and film the whole thing. We can watch it later, when you're fucking me from behind. Think about that. Think about taking me while you watch me take you."

I come undone. Grabbing the back of his head, I slam our mouths together and we swallow each other's cries and moans as we come together. I fall back onto the desk, bringing him with me. This man is going to be the death of me. But oh, what a way to go.

hannah_chapter1: (Calm)
Title: Call Of Nature
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: AU. Sequel to Going Down. Two office workers get frisky in a bathroom.
Feedback: Go for it.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, never have, never will, this isn't real.

And so, it came to pass that I did write a story set in a lift, fully intending it to be a one-shot deal. And the people did look upon it, and fan themselves furiously, and fill my inbox with requests for a sequel. And I did stay up all night, drinking Irn Bru and playing Bioshock and dreaming up plots for not one sequel, but three of them. So here's one, with two more to follow, hopefully. Oh, and for anyone unfamiliar with them, a Lada is a make of car, known for being cheap and crappy and is the butt of many jokes.


"I don't know why everyone got so worked up, but opening the door in my underwear probably didn't help."

"You have a door in your underwear? Is this some strange euphemism for indecent exposure? You could be arrested. Again."

"Very funny, Matthew."

"Thank you Thomas, I try."

"You try, but you don't succeed."

"Just don't come crying to me when you get thrown in the cells."

"Ha bloody ha." He sips his coffee. "Anyway, that's enough about me. What's happening in your world? Got any stories to share?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." I tell him about my adventure in the lift.

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing."

"You can't be serious. Where's the resolution? Where's the night of hot hot sex? I feel cheated."

"You feel cheated?"

"How long's it been."

"Three weeks."

He looks shocked but, thankfully, doesn't probe any deeper. He changes the subject competely, trying to distract me with a story about an insane driver.

"I swear to God, he was so far up my arse, I thought he was trying to be a suppository. And he was driving a Lada, can you believe it? I thought they'd all been rounded up, crushed into cubes and blasted into space. Hey, what's the difference between a sheep and a Lada?"

"I don't know."

"It's more embarrassing to be seen getting out of the back of a Lada."

God bless Tom, he might be a professional lunatic, but he has a heart of gold. He wants his friends to be happy and, for Tom, happiness means getting laid well and often, which is why this little situation of mine confuses him. But that's nothing compared to how I feel. I just don't get it: he told me he wanted me, then went on to prove it by giving me the best blowjob I've ever had. We should have gone home together and spent the night going at it like rabbits, but we didn't. He went his way and I went mine. Don't get me wrong, things have changed, just not the way you might think.

Now he's always the first one in the lift and I'm the one being stared at. But it doesn't stop there, oh no. He'll tell me I look nice today, or comment on the weather, all breathed directly into my ear and accompanied by the lightest of touches - on my back, my hand, my elbow, he avoids the obvious places, anywhere that could be considered an erogenous zone. It doesn't matter, even this is enough to set me on fire. I've started bringing a briefcase to work. I don't need it and I've gotten quite a few raised eyebrows, but better that than everyone seeing me trying to walk out of a lift with an erection that could double as a battering ram. And, as if that wasn't enough, the bastard's haunting my dreams as well. I often wake up to find I've got my pillow between my legs, humping it while I sleep. Why am I putting up with this? Why don't I just turn around, grab him by the lapels and shake him until he gives me what I want, what I need? I have no answers or, at least, none I'm willing to admit, even to myself.

I'm in the bathroom at work, drying my hands and trying to decide what to do for lunch - should I go out or just get a sandwich and sit in the social area? - when I hear the door open and close. I think nothing of it until I hear a voice, his voice.

"Just the man I wanted to see."

I turn and, fucking hell, he's wearing glasses! I didn't think he could look anymore delicious but, clearly, I was wrong. He takes them off and slips them into his pocket and I have to squash an urge to beg him to put them back on. Lord help me, but I do love a man who wears glasses. He advances on me, something in his posture reminding me of a cat stalking a mouse and I back up until I'm wedged between two sinks. He's close now, so close I can feel his breath on my face.

"Tell me something - that day, in the lift..."

"What, what about it?" My voice cracking through the registers like a teenager. Smooth, Matthew, vey smooth.

"Did you like it?"

Did I - did I like it? I can't believe what I'm hearing. The insanity of the question brings my sarcastic side to the fore.

"Well no, actually, now that you've asked me, I didn't. As a matter of fact, I hated every second of it. You'll be lucky if I let your mouth anywhere near my cock again. It sucked, if you'll excuse the expression."

My words don't anger him, as I thought they might. He quirks an eyebrow and drags his finger over my bottom lip.

"Got quite a mouth on you, don't you? That's okay, I like that."

He takes my hand and pulls me into the nearest cubicle, locking the door behind us. Standing with a foot on either side of the toilet, he puts his hands on my shoulders, shoving me to my knees.

"Let's put that mouth of yours to good use. Come on, show me how it's done."

I do as I'm told, making quick work of his belt, button and zip. I pull his trousers down - and am rewarded with the sight of leopard print boxer shorts. Oh my God. I start giggling. I just, I wasn't expecting those. My giggles dry up when he shoves them down and I get my first really good look at what's underneath. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Like what you see?"

Oh I do, very much. I think my mouth might actually be watering. His hand is on my head, an unspoken command. I cradle his balls in my hand and lap at them, relishing the feel of the short, crisp hairs against my tongue. Then I let my tongue trace a path up his length, licking from base to tip. I do that a couple of times before wrapping my lips around him and beginning to suck. I can hear him gasping above me, the sound shooting directly to my own cock. I have to do this, I have to touch myself. I undo my own belt and trousers as I continue to suck him. But, just as I begin to give myself some much needed attention, I feel his hand grab my wrist.

"No, that's for me."

That's enough. Three weeks of torture, all that flirting and teasing about and now this? It's too much. Why does he get to be the one in charge, why should he make all the rules? Time to turn the tables. I take my mouth off him, stand up and grab his hips. I pull him forward, then spin him until he's facing the wall. He stumbles and puts out a hand to steady himself.

Now I've got him right where I want him: bent forward, arse up, feet on either side of the bowl, hands on the wall, keeping him upright. He curses me, but then his exclamation chokes off into a moan as I drop to my knees again, spread his cheeks and drag my tongue over his entrance. I do it again and again as I listen to the sounds above me, the sound of a man losing control. This is what I want - I want him to feel it, the desperation, to be completely at another's mercy, just like I've been ever since that day. I want to drive him wild. He lets out a high-pitched squeak as I push my tongue inside him, savouring the taste of him.

Like that, do you? Just you wait. I pull my tongue out and slide two fingers into my mouth, coating them in saliva. I slip one finger into him, stretching him, searching for that one, special spot. Ah, there it is. My finger hits his prostate and his legs begin to shake. He's begging now, chanting the word "please" over and over again.

"Please what?" I add a second finger, moving them in and out, preparing him. "Say it. I want to hear you say it."

He doesn't resist. "Fuck me. Please, I want you to fuck me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

I pull my fingers out, spit in my hand and slick myself up. Holding onto his hips, I press my tip against his entrance before pushing inside, sliding all the way in on the first thrust. Oh, so hot, so tight! I begin pounding into him, faster than I mean to, harder than I want to. But he doesn't complain or try to stop me. Instead, he presses his hands flat against the wall and begins to slam back onto me, forming a brutal counter-rhythm. We're in freefall now, each urging the other on. I feel the familiar tightness in my groin and slide one of my hands around to grip his cock. I squeeze him gently and that's all it takes. His hips snap forward once, twice, three times and then he's coming, emptying himself into my hand. I'm right there with him, biting my lip to lock in a scream that would probably be heard all the way down in the lobby if I let it out. I collapse against him, struggling to breathe. This is insane. I just bent a man over a toilet bowl and fucked him senseless - and I still don't know his name.

Going Down

Nov. 30th, 2010 04:13 pm
hannah_chapter1: (Default)
Title: Going Down
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: AU. Two office workers stuck in a lift.
Feedback: Please do.
Disclaimer: Nothing real here, just more dribbles from a damaged brain.


"Going down?"

He smiles and raises an eyebrow as he presses the button for the ground floor. Tongue-tied as usual, I can only nod as the doors close and he faces forward. We ride in silence and I spend our all too brief time together staring at his arse. The lift stops, the doors open and he looks back at me and winks.

"Same time tomorrow?"

He walks away before I can answer, just like he always does. Every day is the same. We get in the lift, he says what he says and then I watch that perfect posterior walk away from me. We work on the same floor but I don't know anything about him; not his name or even what he does. He might be management, or he could just be another guy in a cubicle, another rat in the corporate maze. I don't know, all I can say for sure is this: I can't stop thinking about him.

Why should that surprise anyone? He's gorgeous: blond hair, lightly tanned skin, grey eyes and, of course, that perfectly formed arse. I've been staring at it for months now, it's the high point of my working day. If other people crowd into the lift and block my view I spend the next couple of hours sulking, an addict denied his fix. On long, hot nights when I can't sleep I lie in bed and think about how it would feel to run my hands over that firm flesh, to feel his warm weight pressing me into the mattress, his hard length buried deep inside me.

What would he do I wonder, if I told him how I feel? If I hit the emergency stop, if I pressed up against him and whispered in his ear, told him all the things I want to do to him, all the things I want him to do to me? What would he do? Would he try and let me down gently? Would he be angry and push me away? Maybe he'd just treat the whole thing as a joke. Or maybe - just maybe - he'd turn, pull me close and tell me he feels the same way. But I'll never know because I'll never get up the nerve to do something like that. Better, safer, to just keep dreaming.

I hate Wednesdays. It is, for me anyway, the longest day of the week, the one that never seems to end. But today wasn't so bad, mainly because I had lunch with my friend Tom and that always cheers me up. He's a force of nature, a full-on, fulltime party machine. He always has a wild tale to tell and I've gotten some ... memorable phone calls over the years:

"Matt, I passed out on the Tube and I don't know where I am."

"Matt, I pissed in my landlord's letterbox and now I need a place to stay."

"Matt, I'm locked in the boot of a moving car and my phone battery is running out!"

Today's story is tame, at least by Tom's standards. He made the mistake of bringing his new girlfriend home to meet his parents. They brought out a photo album and showed her pictures of Tom, naked and sprawled out on the living room carpet. I couldn't see the problem, everyone's got embarrassing baby photos. No, said Tom, you don't understand. These photos were taken last Christmas.

I'm still giggling to myself when I get in the lift at the end of the day. He follows me in and we go through our usual routine. We're alone today and that's just the way I like it. The lift starts and then stops suddenly, the impact throwing both of us to the floor. He gets to his feet and holds out a hand.

"Are you alright?"

I take his hand and let him pull me up.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He goes to the row of buttons, opens the little door just beneath them and pulls out the emergency phone. But, after a couple of seconds of talking, then shouting, into it, he drops it and shakes his head.

"Bloody thing isn't working. Looks like we're stuck here."

"For how long, do you think?"

"A couple of minutes, a couple of hours, who can say? Nothing in this building works the way it should. This lift doesn't even have a camera."

I look up - he's right. I never noticed before, too busy staring at him. The tone of his voice suddenly changes, becoming softer, more intense.

"But why should I complain? If there was a camera in here, I wouldn't be able to do this."

He backs me into a corner and, before I can protest, runs his tongue over my bottom lip. I moan in surprise and he makes the most of this opportunity, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth. This cannot be happening. Things like this just don't happen, not in the real world. It must be a dream. Bloody Tom, he must have slipped something into my food. But, oh! He tastes so good! Suddenly I'm kissing him back, pulling him to me and sliding my hands over his arse. It feels incredible, better than I ever imagined. If this is a dream, then I never want to wake up.

He breaks the kiss and unbuckles my belt, his voice a soft caress in my ears. "You think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me? Every day I stand here and I swear I can feel your eyes on me, crawling all over me. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy." Whispering now. "Do you have any idea how many nights I've spent lying in bed, or on my couch, touching myself and thinking about you? Thinking about fucking you and about you fucking me?"

I don't, can't, answer him. All the blood in my brain has just gone south for the winter, leaving me unable to form coherent sentences. I stand, mute, as he undoes the button on my trousers and unzips my fly. He pulls my trousers and boxers down, then he drops to his knees and takes me in his mouth.

Oh, Jesus...

His mouth is hot and I can hear myself, moaning softly, as he begins to suck the life out of me. His tongue flicks over the ridge where the head of my cock meets the shaft, my knees buckle and it takes all my willpower not to just collapse in a boneless heap. One of his hands grips the back of my thigh, the other fumbles with his own belt and trousers. His cock finally springs free and he releases me and licks his palm. He slides his hand over his length, stroking himself as he takes me in his mouth again.

We could be caught. This lift could start up again at any time. The doors could open and a group of tired business folk could see me like this, trousers and boxers around my ankles, my cock in a blond stranger's mouth. But the thought doesn't scare me, it excites me and I grab his head and start fucking his mouth. My fingers tangle in his air, pulling hard. But he doesn't complain, he just strokes himself faster and his words come back to me. I think about him, lying on a bed and pleasuring himself, imagining me inside him, stretching him, filling him...

And that's all it takes. I scream as I come, flooding his mouth. He swallows everything I have to give, then lets me go. I hear him grunting, quieter than me but no less enthusiastic, as he comes in his hand.

I pull my trousers and boxers up as he stands again. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I find some paper napkins, left over from my coffee break, and pass them to him. He takes them and tidies himself up, straightening his clothes and finger-combing his hair. Then, as if on cue, the lift starts again. We reach the ground floor, the doors open and he smile at me.

"Same time tomorrow?"


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