hannah_chapter1: (Invasion)
Title: Proposal (2/?)
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: wobell, belldom
Rating: PG/PG-13 (for now, later chapters will vary)
Summary: Chris and Matt are a married couple with money troubles. Dom is a billionaire with a unique solution.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse or any films Demi Moore may or may not have starred in and none of this is real.
Feedback: Talk dirty to me.
Notes: This was inspired by a 1990s film. Which one should soon become obvious.

Chris and Matt sit in stunned silence. Their host smiles and taps his fingers on his desk.

"I'm sorry," Chris finally manages, "I don't think I understood what you just said, Mr. Howard."

"It's really quite simple, Chris. You're in trouble, I can get you out. I'll pay off your creditors and I'll give you five million dollars. But everything has a price, and Matt is mine. One night with him is all I want."

Matt sits ramrod straight, looks the handsome young billionaire in the eye.

"Do you think I'm a prostitute, Mr. Howard?" he asks.

"You can call me Dominic."

"Thank you, but I think I prefer Mr. Howard."

"As you wish. And no, I don't think you're a prostitute. I think you're a very attractive man and I'd very much like it if we could spend a night together."

"You ... are ... unbelievable," Chris grinds out, "do you really think you can get anything you want just because you're rich?"

Howard blinks in surprise.

"Well ... yes. That's how the world works."

Chris tries to say something else, but Howard shuts him down.

"No. Spare me your tirades, I don't want or need to hear them. I made you an offer. Take it or leave it."

He takes a key card out of his pocket, slides it across the desk.

"Here. I've had your things moved to one of our executive suites and your bill's been taken care of, a gesture of good faith on my part. Think about my offer. "When you've made up your mind - "

A business card is offered to Chris.

" - give me a call."

Chris takes the card. Howard ushers them out of the office and then they're in the elevator, heads spinning with new experience.


Their suite is exquisite, but they don't even notice. The argument started the second the lights came on.


"Chris, we - "

"No. There's nothing to discuss. You're not doing it and that's that."

Matt feels the first stirrings of real anger.

"So that's the way it's going to be? You make the decisions and I'm supposed to just go along with whatever you pick?"

"I never said - "

"Because that's not a marriage, Chris, that's a dictatorship."

"Who said anything about - "

"Why should you make all the decisions? Or any of them after what you just did."

"I don't want to make all the decisions. But this, this thing, shouldn't even be an issue. Why are we even fighting about it?"

"Why are you so eager to brush this aside?"

"Why aren't you? Do you really want to do this? Sleep with another man in the middle of our honeymoon?"

"You know I don't. But we need help, Chris, and he can help us."

"If you become his ..." Chris presses his lips together.

"If I become his whore. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

"I didn't mean it."

"Okay, so you didn't mean it.  But what else can we do, Chris?"

"I'll think of something."

"Right," Matt tries to keep the bitter hopelessness out of his voice, can't quite do it. They sit on the bed, side by side, not speaking. Matt puts his head on his husband's shoulder.

"It's just one thing. One night," Matt says, "and then we'll be free."

"It could destroy our marriage."

"Only if we let it."

"You really think we could put all this behind us?"

"Yes, Chris, I do."

Chris rubs a hand over his face.

"Alright. But don't call him now. Call him tomorrow and tell him what you want to do, I leave it in your hands."

They go to bed, make slow, careful love and lose themselves in sleep. When Chris opens his eyes again the sun has risen and Matt is sitting on the edge of the bed. He turns to face his husband, early morning sun reflected in his eyes.

"I'll do it," he says.
hannah_chapter1: (Sparta)
Title: Proposal (1/?)
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: wobell, belldom
Rating: PG/PG-13 (for now, later chapters will vary)
Summary: Chris and Matt are a married couple with money troubles. Dom is a billionaire with a unique solution.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse or any films Demi Moore may or may not have starred in and none of this is real.
Feedback: Talk dirty to me.
Notes: This was inspired by a 1990s film. Which one should soon become obvious.
More Notes: This was written for ashamedbliss. The sex addiction fic I promised has stalled (for now), but I said I'd write something for her, so I did.

The couple walk through the casino. The smaller man clutches his husband's arm as his eyes dart around, trying to take in everything at once.

"Oh, Chris," he gasps, "isn't this amazing?"

"It sure is," Chris smiles and drops a kiss into Matt's hair, "but not as amazing as you."

Matt returns the smile, but only for a moment.

"Baby," he says, suddenly serious, "can we afford this?"

"Hell no," Chris reaches down and gives Matt's ass a firm squeeze, "but I promised you a honeymoon in Vegas, and I keep my promises. I know a weekend isn't much of a honeymoon, but - "

"It's perfect," Matt interrupts.

He stops, pulls Chris around to face him and stands on tiptoe to loop his arms around his husband's neck.

"You're perfect."

They kiss for an eternity, open-mouthed, full-bodied kisses, ignoring the stares and crude comments. Their mouths finally disengage but they remain as they are, locked in a tight embrace.

"I love you," Matt whispers.

"Love you more," Chris whispers back.

They separate and Chris tugs Matt towards the tables.

"Come on, I'm feeling lucky."

"Careful, Chris," Matt warns, "we can't afford to lose too much."

"Don't worry, baby. We're not gonna lose, we're gonna win."

They don't see the blond man in the expensive suit, but he sees them. He licks his lips as he watches them go, a predatory gleam in his eye.


Three hours later and the happy couple isn't happy anymore. Matt stalks across the hotel lobby, Chris trailing in his wake.

"Matt," he pleads, "don't be like this."

"How should I be? Happy? Should I pretend tonight never happened, act like you did nothing wrong?"

"But baby - "

Matt stops and spins on a heel so abruptly Chris very nearly tramples him underfoot.

"Don't you 'baby' me," Matt snarls, "you lost all our money, you lost our car, you even lost our house. Our house, Chris! How could you do that? Why would you do that?"

"I - "

"Excuse me," a voice interrupts.

Startled out of their argument, the couple turn to confront the owner of the voice, a neat, elderly man.

"What do you want? We're kind of the middle of something here," says Chris.

"Yes, I can see that. So sorry to interrupt your little ... discussion, but I was sent to find you."

Matt and Chris exchange a puzzled glance.

"Do we know you?" Matt ventures.

"No, but I was sent to find you."

"Who sent you?"

"Mr. Howard."

"Mr. Howard, says Chris, "and who is Mr. Howard, might I ask?"

"My employer. He owns this hotel."

Chris frowns.

"Why would Mr. Howard want to see us?"

"I don't know, sir. I was just told to find you and bring you to Mr. Howard's office."

Matt looks at his husband.

"What should we do, Chris?"

Chris mulls it over, then shrugs.

"Let's go see what this guy wants. What have we got to lose?"

Nothing you haven't already lost, Matt thinks. He chokes off the unwelcome thought before his mouth can articulate it.

They follow the older man into an elevator. Their guide produces a key and shoves it into a slot just above the double row of buttons. Chris takes his husband's hand as the elevator carries them to the top of the hotel. They're ushered into an office, an office that is huge, opulent and ... empty. Completely empty. Chris looks back, hoping to question the man who brought them here, but he's already disappeared.

A door behind the desk opens and a man steps through.

"Matt. Chris. Thank you for coming."

Matt blinks. For some reason, he thought Mr. Howard would be an old man, a real-life Mr. Burns. He wasn't expecting this young, handsome blond. Howard crosses the office in three quick strides, shakes their hands, ushers them into chairs directly opposite his desk. Matt presses a hand against his brow, trying to calm himself. There was a moment, when the blond took his hand in both of his - and such soft hands, such exquisitely manicured nails! - and their eyes met ... he can't describe it, exactly, but something stirred in Matt, something deep inside. That's never happened with anyone, not even Chris.

"Would either of you like a drink?"

They shake their heads.

"Well then," the blond settles in behind his desk, "let's get down to business,"

He steeples his fingers beneath his chin and turns his attention to Matt's husband.

"Not having a good night, are you, Chris?"

Chris stares at the floor, his expression sullen.

"I had some bad luck."

"I'd call it more than just bad luck. I'd say you fucked up but good. You had so many chances to quit, you didn't take any of them."

"I thought I could turn it around. I didn't think I'd lose everything."

"Losers never do. And you are a loser, Chris, a very big loser."

Chris raises his head and fixes the other man with a baleful glare.

"I left some money in our room. I can cover our bill, if that's what you're worried about. I'm no deadbeat."

Howard makes a quick, dismissive gesture.

"I don't care about that."

"What do you care about?" Matt asks.

"You, your plans for the future. What will you do when you leave Vegas? Where do you go from here?"

"Home," says Matt, "we can stay with my parents until can afford another place of our own."

"I see. But what about the sharks?"

"Sharks? What sharks?"

"Loan sharks, Matt, the ones who financed this little jaunt of yours. You didn't know about this?"

Matt shakes his head, struck dumb with horror. He looks at Chris, expecting, needing him to deny it, but Chris is staring intently at the blond behind the desk.

"How did you know?" he asks softly.

Howard smiles.

"One advantage of wealth is being able to find out anything about anyone, in less time than it takes to order a cup of coffee."

"Alright, but why are you so interested in us?"

"I saw you come into the casino and you looked so happy together and so I kept an eye on you. When I saw you starting to lose, I made some calls. I wanted to know if you could afford to lose so big."

The couple are silent as Howard continues.

"The men you borrowed from are going to want their money, and soon. If you don't have it, they'll take something else, something of Matt's"

"What will they take?" Matt's voice is a hoarse whisper.

Howard shrugs.

"Fingers, toes, eyes. It varies from shark to shark."

Matt feels like he's about to vomit. Howard throws a sympathetic look his way before turning a much colder gaze upon Matt's husband.

"Really, Chris. How could you let this happen? How could you be so fucking stupid?"

Chris bounces up out of his chair.

"Fuck you! What gives you the right to talk to me this way? Just who in the hell do you think you are?"

Howard sneers up at Chris.

"I think I'm a fucking billionaire, a man so obscenely rich, he can use hundred dollar bills as toilet paper if he so chooses. You, on the other hand, are a waste of space, a degenerate gambler who doesn't have a pot to piss in because he just lost it in a poker game and I'll talk to you however I damn well please."

Chris's face is dark, swollen with blood.

"That's it," he growls, "we're leaving. Come on, Matt, let's get out of here."

"Go ahead," Howard jeers "run away, throw away your one chance at making this right."

Chris stops and returns to his chair.

"What chance?"

Howard puts both palms flat on his desk and leans forward.

"I'll pay your debts. You can have your house, your car and more money than you could ever dream of."

"How much money, exactly?" Matt asks.

"Five million dollars."

Matt suddenly feels faint.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I don't think I heard you. Did you just say five thousand dollars?"

"No, Matt. I said million. Five million dollars."

"And what do you want in return?" Chris asks.

"Your husband, Chris. I want to spend one night with your husband."


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August 2016

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