hannah_chapter1: (Dunecat)
Title: Space Cowboy, Gangster of Love (3/?)
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom and some other stuff...
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: Dom is an intergalactic bounty hunter, Matt is a space prostitute.
Feedback: Yes please
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse and this most definitely did NOT happen.

Dom moans as his lover's hands work their magic. Fingers, fingers everywhere: sliding in and out of his asshole, stroking and squeezing his balls, drifting up to trace the skin around his bellybutton, then back down to his scrotum. It doesn't get any better than this.

Or does it?

A hot tongue begins to tease him, tip licking and jabbing at the swollen head of his cock. Dom's almost, but not quite, at the limit of his endurance and Matt keeps him there, sucking the very tip of him, every movement of his fingers and swipe of his tongue carefully calculated to deliver the maximum amount of pleasure - but never letting him fall over the cliff, no matter how much he wants it, needs it, begs for it.

Matt relaxes his throat and takes him all the way in. Dom's back arches off the bed and he howls, blood pounding madly in his ears as he loses control. Matt rides it out, swallowing everything he has to give. Dom falls back onto the mattress, a sticky, boneless mess. Lost in the post-orgasmic haze, he doesn't even react when Matt runs a damp cloth over him, wiping away the sweat and spunk.

"Dom?" Matt pokes his hip, "you still alive?"


Matt giggles.

"Look at you, one blowjob and you fall to pieces. I thought bounty hunters were tough."

Dom opens an eye.

"Keep that up and you'll get a spanking."

"Promises, promises."

Matt curls up in Dom's arms and hums, content. This is where he belongs, not stuck on another planet, watching and re-watching Dom's transmissions, missing him, wanting him, wondering if he'll make it back in one piece or at all.

"When do we get to Altair-4, Dom?"

"In about twenty hours. We'll be landing in Sogo. Ever been there?"

"No. What's it like?"

Dom makes a rude noise.

"That bad?"

"That bad. I'd call it a wretched hive of scum and villiany, but that would be an insult to wretched hives of scum and villiany. But it could be good for us."


"Whores don't like Sogo and they never stay for long. You could make a small fortune once we're done with Richter."

Matt props himself up on one elbow and stares down at him.

"What, what did I say?"

"I was just thinking ... I always hoped I'd find a tolerant lover. But you, sometimes I think you're just too good to be true. You know about my work, you watch me work and you never get jealous."

"Why should I? There's no call for it. They want you so bad, all those clients of yours, they want you and they line up and throw their money at you. But all they get is what they pay for, what you're willing to give them. They never get you. Because you belong to me."

"I do."

Dom grips the point of Matt's chin and tugs his head down. Their lips meet in a long, messy kiss. Matt feels something stirring beneath him. He ends the kiss and arches an eyebrow.

"That didn't take long," he teases.

Dom flips him onto his back.

"Was that a complaint?"

"No," Matt gasps as Dom's teeth worry at his nipple.

No, no complaints here.


"So what do you think of Sogo?"

Matt looks at the filthy streets and heaving crowds, lip curling in distaste.

"I think if this planet ever needs an enema they'll insert it in Sogo."

Dom laughs.

"Any idea where Richter might be hiding?"

"No, he didn't even trust his own brother with that. He's somewhere in Sogo, that's all I know."

"Where do we start?"

"I've got - "

Dom grabs a dirty boy by the scruff of the neck and lifts him.

"Give it back."

The boy tries to look innocent but only succeeds in looking constipated.

"Give what back?"

Dom shakes him.

"Don't waste my time. Give it back. Now!"

The boy's shoulders sag in defeat. He holds out Dom's money purse. Dom takes it and lets him go. The boy eyes Dom warily, poised to flee at the first sign of violence.

"How long have you been dipping?" Dom asks him.

"As long as I can remember."

"Were you born here in Sogo?"

"Yeah. This place might be a toilet, but it's all I know."

The whore and the bounty hunter exchange looks.

"How would you like to make some real money?" Dom asks.

The boy's eyes narrow.

"Relax, it's not what you're thinking. I just want you to look at this," Dom pulls out a picture of Richter out of his pocket, "do you know this man? Do you know where he is?"

Matt fumbles for a coin but the boy waves it away.

"He's bad, so I'll just tell you. You'll find him in the House of Bones."


"All night, every night."

"How do we find the House of Bones?"

"A blind man could find it. Follow the smell of blood and beer."

"Do they have whores in this House of Bones?" asks Matt.

"No. They've got machines, those Pleasure Machines."

The boy turns away.

"You sure you don't want any money?"

"No, I don't want money. Just tell me one thing."


"Will you kill this guy?"

"Only if I have to," says Dom, "he's worth more to me alive."

"Could you spill some blood, break a few bones?"

"I think that can be arranged. You really hate this guy, don't you? What did he do to you?"

"Friend of mine, he tried to dip him. Fucker cut his fingers off. All his fingers. That boy was the best of us and now he can't even wipe his own ass."

The buy disappears into the crowd, leaving them speechless.


Matt checks his reflection and repositions his official Guild badge, making sure it's visible to anyone who cares to look.

"How do I look?" he asks Dom.

"Like a dirty boy who does dirty deeds," Dom holds out a lasgun in a holster, "but you're missing a certain something."

"Do I have to?"

"You know you do. We're not taking any chances, not in a place like this."

Matt scowls. He hates lasguns, but he can't fault Dom's logic. He takes the gun and clips it to his belt.

"Now you're ready."

Dom cups Matt's face in his hands and kisses him three times; once on either cheek and the last on the lips.

"Good luck."


Matt walks into the House of Bones and all conversations stop. He walks up to the bar, oh-so-aware of the eyes on him. The patrons turn back to their drinks and now their conversations have a new and intense edge. Pleasure Machines are, at best, a barely adequate substitute for the real thing. They can stimulate the nerves, replicate any experience you'd care to name but they lack that one, vital ingredient: flesh on flesh contact.

The bartender greets Matt.

"What'll it be?"

"A Mushroom Cloud."

"Clean or dirty?"

"Dirty, the dirtier the better."

The bartender sneaks a glance at Matt's gun as he makes the drink.

"You always walk around strapped?"

"No, not always. But a boy can't be too careful in a place like this."

If the bartender's offended he doesn't show it.

"Nobody'll try anything in here, you have my word."

He places the drink on the bar.

"You looking for business?"

"I'm always looking for business."

"I've got a room you could use. It even comes with a private shower."

"How much?"

"Thirty percent of whatever you make."

"I'll think about it."

Potential clients sidle up to the bar and compete for Matt's attention. Matt pouts and flirts and plays the game. Then a hand caresses his cheek, he turns and finds himself face to face with the man he came here to find.

"Hello, beautiful," Richter touches his cheek again, "I was thinking you might want to get out of here, go somewhere a little less crowded."

"I might. But nobody rides for free. What makes you think you can afford me?"

"What makes you think I can't?"

"Your clothes. I've seen better clothes on men lying in puddles of their own filth."

"Clothes don't always make the man. I could be a rich guy with a taste for slumming."

"You could, but I doubt it."

Richter laughs, buys Matt another drink and the game continues. The other potential clients scowl and mutter into their drinks when Richter leads Matt out of the House of Bones and into a dark street. He pushes Matt against a wall and leans in for a kiss. Matt turns his face away.

"No. No kissing. We can do anything else you might want, but no kissing."

"Fine, no kissing. Let's try something else."

Richter grabs Matt's hand and wraps it around something cold and hard. Matt frowns. This isn't right ...

... and then his gun hand is pinned and Richter's blade pointed right at his eye.

"You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know who you are?"

"I'm nobody. I'm just a whore looking for some business."

"No, you're so much more than that. You belong to that bounty hunter. You're Howard's little whore."

The tip of the blade pricks a spot just below Matt's eye, raising a small drop of blood.

"Last time he took me in he beat my ass into the ground and dislocated my shoulders. Both of them."

The blade now at Matt's throat.

"Does he love you?"

Matt doesn't answer.

"I asked you a question. Does he love you?"

"Yes. He loves me."

"Good. That makes what I'm going to do to you that much sweeter."

Matt's gun hand is trapped but the other is free. He reaches down and between Richter's legs. Richter looks down and sneers.

"Oh, save it. You can't charm your way out of this one."

"Can't I?"

Matt picks up the pace. Richter's cock hardens and he moans. Matt smiles, twists his wrist in just the right way - and Richter is suddenly, painfully aware of just how fine the line between agony and ecstacy really is.

He shrieks and drops the blade. Matt twists away from him and Dom's electrodart slams into the back of Richter's neck, short-circuiting his nervous system. He convulses and collapses. Dom steps over his limp form, rifle in one hand. He swipes at the bead of blood beneath Matt's eye.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. I wouldn't even call this a scratch."

Dom rests his forehead against Matt's, then turns his attention to the unconscious man.

"Where should I start?"


"Good idea."

He kneels and snaps Richter's fingers, all ten of them.

"And just for old time's sake..."

He dislocates Richter's right shoulder, then the left. He stands and admires his work.

"That should do it. Let's get him out of here."

They each grab a foot and drag their prize back to the ship. They secure him and walk back to the House of Bones.

"You sure you want to do this, Matt?"


"But there's so many of them. You can't service them all."

"I wasn't planning to. I'll take the room the bartender offered and we'll have an auction. I'll sell my services to the highest bidders."


Dom blocks the doorway.

"Please, we're not asking for much."

The man trying to get into Matt's room is almost twice Dom's height, but Dom isn't intimidated.

"No. He's reached his limit. No more sex for him tonight, no sex for at least a week."

"It's not fair."

"It's plenty fair. You tried to buy him and you and your friends were outbid, every single time. That's all there is to it."

The big man looks at his friends, then down at Dom.

"And if we decide to come in and take him, what then? You think you can take us all?"

Dom's answer is a hard punch to the big man's gut. The man doubles over, air wooshing out of him and the heel of Dom's hand smashes into his nose. An elbow to the ribs take out the second man and a sharp kick to the knee does for the third. The others look down at their fallen comrades, then at the lasgun Dom's just whipped out. The bounty hunter riases his free hand in a 'come on' gesture.

"Anyone else feel like disputing this issue? Come on, don't be shy."

The crowd melts away, leaving their friends on the ground.


Dom sits on the edge of the mattress and Matt's eyes flutter open.

"Where am I?"

"On the ship."


"I carried you. You were pretty out of it."

Dom hold up a bag.

"I picked up your money on the way out."

"We did good?"

"Better than good. They'll be talking about this night for weeks, maybe even months."

He puts the bag down.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No. I just need sleep."

His eyes close and Dom stays with him, stroking his hair as he sleeps. A slew of curses filter up from the hold. Dom goes down and kneels beside his prisoner. Richter is cursing Dom, Matt and the universe in general when Dom pulls out the blade he tried to use on Matt.

"Nice toy you have here, Richter."

Dom holds it up to the light.

"Real nice. It would be a shame to waste such a nice blade. But then I could always use it on you, couldn't I? Shove it up your ass and twist it a few times."

Dom grabs Richter's hand and presses the tip of the blade into his palm.

"Or I could cut off a few pieces to prove I caught you and flush the rest out the airlock. You like the sound of that?"

Richter shakes his head, eyes capital Os of terror.

"No? You wouldn't like that?"

Another head shake.

"Then you'll be a good boy and keep your mouth shut on the return trip."

A nod.


Dom puts the blade away and climbs up to the cockpit.

One down, eleven to go.

hannah_chapter1: (Atlas)
Title: Space Cowboy, Gangster of Love (2/?)
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom and some other stuff...
Rating: 15/R
Summary: Dom is an intergalactic bounty hunter, Matt is a space prostitute.
Feedback: Yes please
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse and this most definitely did NOT happen.

Footsteps outside the door, soft but still audible. Dom's awake in an instant, but doesn't show it. He keeps his eyes closed and his breathing slow and regular even as one hand slips beneath the mattress and finds the blade hidden there (an unnecessary precaution since no one would dare hurt Matt while Dom still draws breath). The mystery guest enters the room and Dom's ready for him. He waits until the intruder approaches the bed and then he comes to life: sitting up suddenly, using one hand to pull Matt tight against him and the other to raise the blade.

"This one's taken. He's mine, so go find some other whore to stick - oh, it's you."

Dom takes his hand off Matt and puts the blade away.

"Hi, Chris."

"Would it kill you to show some respect for my rank? Is it really so much to ask?"

"Alright, if you insist. Good morning, Chief Wolstenholme."

"That's better. I looked for you at your ship but I don't know why I bothered. I should have known you'd come right here."

"Of course I did. Three months chasing that asshole with just my hand for company, what else was I going to do? My man was expecting me, I couldn't keep him waiting."

Matt grins at the chief and draws Dom into a long, deep kiss. Chris watches them, jealousy written all over his face.

"Why don't I ever get some of that?"

Matt breaks the kiss and rolls over to face Chris.

"You get what you pay for. More than you pay for, actually, seeing as how I give you a discount when I should be charging double for all the disgusting things you want."

"The pressures I operate under can only be relieved by regular and sordid sex. I make no apologies for it."

"I hate to have to tell you this, but you'll have to find someone else to have regular and sordid sex with," Dom says, "I'm taking Matt with me. We'll be working together on this new contract you gave me."

"Why? You've got a good thing here, Matt. Why would you want to give it up?"

"I've been in this place too long. I need to get out, have some fun."

"You'll leave some unhappy regulars behind."

"They'll get over it, they always do. Eventually."

Dom yawns and runs a hand over Matt's hip.

"Did you have a reason for coming here, Chris, or were you just desperate to get a look at my bare ass?"

Chris holds up a compu-pad.

"I brought the files on the guys you'll be going after," he tosses the pad in the general direction of the bed. Dom throws an arm out and catches it, "your bare ass is just a bonus."

"And what a bonus it is."

Dom flicks through the files until he comes to a familiar face. He holds the pad up for Chris to see.

"My old friend Richter. I'll start with him."

"Any idea where he might have gone?"

"He's got a brother here on Mars. I'll pay him a visit."

"Richter's with him?"

"No, he's not that stupid. He'll be hiding out on some shitty little rock and sending messages back here."

"How will you get his brother to talk?"

"I thought I'd try violence, that usually works. I'll bring him to you when I'm done, so get a cell ready."

"Alright. When are you going off-planet?"

"Three days, maybe four."

"Why can't you go today?"

"You saw my ship, she's been through a lot in the last couple of months. She needs some tender loving care. And so do I."

Matt, bored with the conversation, takes this as his cue to give Dom a slow and thorough tongue-bath. Chris is rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle. Dom moans and closes his eyes when Matt reaches his genitals. Chris's tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Could I - "

"No," Matt raises his head, Dom opens his eyes and they speak as one.

"Oh, come on! Just a threesome. No weird stuff, I promise."

"The answer is no, Chris."

"I don't get it," Chris sulks, "he fucks people for a living, you watch him do it, so why do you always get so uptight whenever anyone tries to get you both in bed at the same time?"

"Because when we're together there's just no room for anyone else."

"Fine, no threesome. Can I watch?"

"What do you think, Matt, should we let him stay?"

Matt moves up and faces Dom.

"He can stay. Who knows, he might even learn something."


The butt of the lasgun smashes into Dom's eye and he staggers back. Shit. That hasn't happened in awhile. He shakes his head to clear it and chases after the man who just tried to crack his skull open. Richter's brother has almost reached the back door when Dom's flying tackle brings him down. Dom pulls him up and shoves him against the wall.

"Your brother sent you a message. I know he did, so don't even think about denying it. You're going to tell me all about it and then you'll send him a message. My message. If you try anything cute, like hand signals or blinking in code, I'll know. And then I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

Richter's brother spits blood and defiance.

"Fuck you, whatever your name is, why should I do anything for you?"

Dom smiles like a shark and flexes his fingers.

"Because I'm going to ask nicely."


Matt wipes his mouth and pushes back from the table. Reva is frowning down at her plate, which is almost full.

"I wish you'd change your mind, Matt."

"I won't. I know you'll lose money when I go, but I'm not gone yet. I'll work every night until the end, you tell everyone it's their last chance with me and you can double my price, maybe even triple it. It'll help you cover your losses while you're searching for a replacement."

"I don't care about the money, Matt, I care about you. I'll miss you."

"You'll miss bragging about how you're immune to my charms," Matt teases.

Reva goes back to picking at her food and Matt puts a hand on her arm.

"I'll miss you, too. But I can't stay here forever. You knew this day would come."

"I did, but it doesn't make it any easier. It just won't be the same without you."

"You could quit, you could do something else. Get a ship, start a smuggling operation."

"Been there, done that. I've had enough of planet-hopping and fighting, running from patrols."

Matt's about to say something else when Dom comes into the kitchen, eye swollen almost shut, knuckles torn and bleeding. Reva takes her plate into the bar, leaving them alone. Dom sits on the table and waits for Matt to find the medkit and go to work. Matt smears healing cream on Dom's eye and cleans and dresses the cuts on his hand.

"Any other injuries I should know about?"


"You sure?"

"I'm fine, Matt, you worry too much."

"I can't help it. You live in a dangerous world, Dom."

"And you don't? You think I don't worry about you and what might happen if a client gets too rough when I'm not here stop it?"

Dom stands and gathers Matt to him.

"But now we've got this job and we can watch each other's backs, just like we used to. No more worrying, no more long seperations, it'll be so good."

Dom smiles down at the smaller man. Their lips meet in a kiss, gentle at first, but becoming rougher and more passionate with every passing second. Dom would love to throw Matt down on the table and fuck him raw, but Reva hates it when people fuck in her kitchen, so he gets himself under control and drags Matt up to the bedroom.

"Honestly," Matt huffs as Dom pulls his shirt off and pushes him onto the bed, "I don't know why I bother getting dressed!"

Dom crawls onto the bed and covers Matt's body with his own.

"I'd be much happier if you didn't."


Dom is in the pilot's chair, watching Matt bring his stuff on board.

"Need some help?"

"No, this is the last one."

Matt stows his gear and joins Dom in the cockpit.

"Last chance to back out, Matt. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Matt reaches over and switches the engines on.

"I'm sure."

hannah_chapter1: (Belleville)
Title: Space Cowboy, Gangster of Love (1/?)
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom and some other stuff...
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: Dom is an intergalactic bounty hunter, Matt is a space prostitute.
Feedback: Yes please
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse and this most definitely did NOT happen.

Dom ducks behind the rocks. That was close - the lasgun blast damn near took his head off. Okay, so he can't shoot his way out of this one. Time for plan B. He feels along his belt until he finds what he's looking for. One click and the stun grenade is ready to go. Dom says a silent prayer, then tosses the grenade up and over the rocks. A muffled bang and a curse cut short tell him everything he needs to know.

He gets up and strolls over to the man he's spent the better part of three months hunting. The grenade has incapacited him, leaving him conscious, but incapable of any kind of movement. Dom grabs the man by the ankles and drags him back to his ship. He just can't wait to get off this rock and back to civilisation. The man's legs start to kick as Dom warms up his engines. The bounty hunter sighs and pulls a box from under his seat. He flips it open and searches for the syringe. When the man on the floor sees the syringe in Dom's hand he opens his mouth to scream.

"Relax, Quaid, you're worth more to me alive. This is just a little something to make sure you behave. You'll sleep all the way back to Mars and I won't have to listen to your complaints. Everybody wins."

The needle slides into the vein and Dom pushes the plunger. He watches Quaid's eyes until they glaze over and his body goes limp. Dom nods, satisfied, and returns to his seat. Time to go home.


Dom drags Quaid into the station and up to the main desk. He smiles cheerfully at the guard.

"Special delivery, all the way from Arturis. Now, where's my reward?"

"Don't worry, Howard, you'll get it," the guard points at the elevator, "but the chief wants to talk to you first."

Three hours come and go before Dom can leave the station and walk over to the Last Resort. He steps inside and every head turns to stare at the swaggering blond in dusty black leather. Dom's halfway to the bar when, out of the corner of his eye, he spies an old acquaintance with a score to settle. The man is coming for him with a bottle in his hand and murder in his eyes. Dom left his lasgun on his ship - the weapon is forbidden in the Last Resort. Management are very serious about that, and about the punishment doled out to anyone stupid enough to break that rule.

They are, however, not quite so clear on the subject of knives.

Dom's got a bag in his right hand but it doesn't matter. One hand is all he needs. His left hand goes to his belt, flicks out ... and then his would-be attacker is screaming and clawing at the blade growing out of his shoulder. Dom ignores the screams, walks up to the bar and parks himself on a stool.

"Reva," he greets the woman cleaning glasses behind the bar.

"Dom. Nice entrance."

"I aim to please."

"Anything for me in that bag, or is it all for him?"

Dom reaches into the bag, pulls out a jade necklace and places it on the bar.

"For you, sweetheart, something to match your eyes."

"What a thoughtful little hired thug you are," Reva takes the necklace and hides it under the bar, "I'll try it on later. Nice things are wasted on this crowd. You want your usual?"


Reva mixes his drink and slides the glass across to him. Dom empties it in three quick swallows. The liquid starts a fire in his gut and the heat spreads through his body. He shudders and his eyes begins to water. Reva looks mildly amused at the sight.


"No, that's enough," Dom wipes his eyes, "is he upstairs?"

"He's with some clients."

"Good, I love watching him at work."

"They paid extra for privacy. They don't want anyone watching."

"I can keep a secret if you can."

Reva rolls her eyes and pushes a button. A portion of the bar slides open.

"Fine, have it your way."

Dom picks up his bag and goes through.

"This is his last job of the night, make sure everyone knows. I don't want to be interrupted."

"You won't be. Have a good night."

Dom goes upstairs and into the viewing room. He makes himself comfortable and turns his attention to the two-way mirror and the events playing out in the room on the other side of it. Four people writhe on a bed, three male, one female. In the middle of it all is the man Dom came to see: Matthew Bellamy, the Last Resort's star attraction. Dom watches his lover as he manages to pleasure three people simultaneously: fucking the woman from behind, being penetrated in turn by one man while orally pleasuring the second. Dom's pants soon become uncomfortably tight. But he won't touch himself - the longer the delay, the sweeter the eventual release. As he watches the show Dom thinks about how, a mere two centuries ago, prostitution was a crime, not an artform. At times like this, Dom can only thank the fates he was born in a more enlightened era.

The show ends and Matt's clients dress and leave. Dom watches Matt take the stained, rumpled sheets off the bed. He dumps them in a basket in the corner, puts clean ones on the bed and goes into the bathroom to shower. Dom passes from viewing room to bedroom. He sets his bag on the floor by the bed and sits on the edge to take his boots and belt off. Matt emerges from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, hair still wet from his shower, to find Dom lying on the bed with his hands behind his head. He scowls.

"I just changed those sheets."

"I took my boots off, what more do you want?"

"A bath, a change of clothes, is that too much to ask?"

"We both know you prefer me dirty."

"Says who?"

Dom smirks and his eyes flick down to the erection tenting the front of Matt's towel. He sits up and whips the towel away to reveal it in all its glory.

"Says this."

Matt whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as Dom's hand wraps around his cock and tugs gently. He doesn't even try to resist when Dom grabs him by the waist and pulls him onto his lap. Dom's tongue flicks over Matt's lower lip, demanding entry. Matt gives in and the tongue sweeps into his mouth, duelling with his own and mapping every last ridge and contour. Matt's missed this; he never kisses his clients, this pleasure is reserved for Dom and Dom alone.

They finally part, both gasping for air. Dom flicks a stray droplet of water from Matt's shoulder. Matt hums.

"Did you find the man you were looking for?"

"I always do. What about you? How's business?"

"It's good - but then, when you're the best fuck in the galaxy, business is always good."

"Such a modest little slut."

"It's not bragging if you can back it up."

Dom laughs.

"True. That was quite a show you just put on."

"It was all for you, I had a feeling you'd be back tonight. You liked it?"

Dom takes Matt's hand and presses it against the bulge in his pants.

"What do you think?"

Matt leans in and kisses him again.

"I think you're wearing too many clothes."

Two pairs of eager hands soon solve that particular problem and two naked bodies face each other. They are a study in contrasts: Matt, all smooth limbs and pale, gleaming flesh and Dom, all hard muscle and skin burned golden by so many distant suns. Light and dark, rough and smooth. Moans and cries fill the air as they play, tongues gliding over skin and hands stroking and squeezing and fondling anything they can grab hold of. Dom's teeth graze Matt's nipple. The tempatation to lose himself in the sensation is strong. He tries to resist, tries to form a coherent sentence.

"Do .. you want ... me to get ... the cuffs?"

Dom raises his head.

"No, I've got a better idea. Get on you hands and knees and face the mirror. I want you to watch me fucking you."

Matt's cock twitches at the prospect. He hurries into position and squeals when he feels Dom's tongue on his hole. Some of Matt's clients try to impress him with their technique, thoughtful little tweaks and touches in all the right places, or what they think are all the right places, but Dom never wastes time with any of that. He doesn't need to. He shoves his tongue inside Matt and slips a hand between his legs to fondle his balls and that's more than enough for Matt.

Dom rises up onto his knees, grabs Matt's hips and slides into him. Matt cries out in ecstacy as his lover enters him, possesses him, tranforming him from a cool, professional bedroom artist to a slave, a creature of pure sensation. Oh, how he wishes he could touch himself, but he needs both hands on the mattress to brace himself against Dom's savage pounding. All he can do is watch himself being fucked, see his facial expression change with every vicious thrust.

"Who do you belong to?" Dom's voice is rough and demanding.


Dom claws at his hips.

"What was that? I can't hear you."

"You, you, I belong to you," Matt sobs, "I'm your slut, your slave, yours, Dom, yours..."

He tries to say more but his words are lost in a high, keening wail. His entire being comes together and then shatters into a million pieces. All the strength flows out of his arms and his upper body collapses onto the mattresses. Dom is still holding his hips, still thrusting furiously, still searching for his own release. But then he stiffens and shouts in triumph as his orgasm flows into Matt. Now it's his turn to collapse and he covers Matt's body with his own.

Dom strokes Matt's arms and nuzzles his neck as they both come down from their high. They sever their physical connection and move to the top of the bed. Dom pulls Matt into his arms.

"That was," Matt struggles to find the words, "that was..."

"I know," Dom kisses his temple, "it always is."

Matt yawns.

"You're staying the night?"

"Of course."

"And when are you leaving the planet?"

"Sooner than I'd like. I got a new job today, I'm hunting down twelve escaped convicts."

"That could take months."

"It could take a couple of years."

"And you expect me to just sit here and wait for you, is that it?"

"No, I want you to come with me."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. You know as well I do that a man with your talents is welcome in more places than a bounty hunter ever is. Come on, Matt, it'll be just like old times."

Matt thinks about it.

"Adventures in space with a gorgeous bounty hunter," he sighs, "when do we leave?"


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August 2016

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