Enemies Part Four

[hannah_chapter1]

Title: Enemies Part Four
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Summary: A cop. A bank robber. Some sex. What else do you need?
Feedback: Please do.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, this is fiction.
Notes: Happy New Year to one and all! This story is (obviously) inspired by all the crime films I've seen - but this chapter takes inspiration from one film in particular. First person to guess it gets a prize!


The phone is ringing, the sound dragging Dom out of the land of sleep and back to the real world. He tries to get up but Matt is lying on his arm. He must have decided to stay the night. Sometimes he leaves the second they're done - you could say he comes and goes - and sometimes he stays all night. There are nights where Dom comes home to find Matt waiting for him (the cop walked into his bedroom one night and the criminal was lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a red ribbon around his cock and a whipped-cream arrow on his chest and stomach, pointing down) and nights where Dom goes to sleep alone and wakes an hour or two later with a tongue in his mouth and a hand on his cock.

Dom pulls his arm free and stumbles out of bed and over to his jeans. He picks them up and wobbles over to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the after-effects of four beers and a couple of hours of fierce, slam-against-the-wall sex. Matt's hands settle on his waist as he fishes the phone out of the front pocket and answers it. Dom tries to give the caller his full attention but it's not easy with Matt kissing his back and shoulders.

The call ends. Dom drops the phone and then Matt is on him, pulling him down. He moves over Dom and pins him to the mattress.

"Kiss," he demands.

Dom turns his face away.

"Morning breath."

Matt grips his chin, forcing Dom to look at him.

"I don't care."

Dom sighs and lets Matt have what he wants. The criminal releases him and Dom gets up and looks for something clean to wear. Matt yawns and scratches his chest.

"Where are you going? It's early."

"I have to go to work. Someone just took down a security van."

"You're chasing other criminals? I thought what we had was special!"

"I can't help what you think," Dom glares at Matt, "I can't have a day off, can I? Not even one. You people are so damn inconsiderate."

"Aww, poor baby. Want to take a shower together? I'll wash your back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you're very good I'll wash your hair, too."

"Okay."

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

Tom Kirk sits on a bench in the locker room. He hasn't moved since they left the squash court. Dom taps him with his foot.

"Kirky? You dead?"

"Amost," he opens his eyes, "you're a maniac on that court. I may never walk again."

"Don't be such a baby."

Dom pulls off his t-shirt without thinking.

"What happened to your chest, Dom?"

"Nothing, it's nothing. Forget it."

Dom turns away and heads for the showers. A hand on the back of his neck arrests his progress. Kirk inspects the scratches and bitemarks on his back.

"What did you do, get mauled by a mountain lion?" Kirk pulls down around to face him, "and these marks on your chest, what are they?"

"Burns."

"Burns from what?"

"Candle wax," Dom shuffles his feet, uncomfortable, "I like to play rough sometimes, it's no big deal."

Kirk says nothing, just keeps right on staring at him and Dom's temper slips a notch.

"Don't you look at me like that. I don't have to explain myself to you, I don't have to explain myself to anybody! My private life is my business and none of yours!"

"C'mon Dom, it's me. I'd never judge you, you know that."

Dom's shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It's just, old habits can be hard to break, you know?"

"I know. I remember the bad old days."

They were rookies together and Dom, faced with a choice between hiding his sexuality and living in constant fear of exposure or being honest and facing the inevitable consequences, went with the second option. He refused to be intimidated and met every homophobic slur and prank with one of his own. When someone wrote "I like to suck fat, hairy cocks" on Dom's locker door, Dom got a pen and replaced "like" with "love" and added the words "every day." If someone put a dildo or buttplug in his cruiser, he'd stand in the middle of the squadroom and simulate blowjobs with it. The practical jokes and insults stopped long ago but, even after all these years, Dom's first instinct when quizzed on his private life is to go on the offensive. And it's safe to say the mess he's gotten himself into has made him edgier than usual.

"I know you do. But you don't have to worry about me, Kirky, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Things get a little wild sometimes, but I've got everything under control."

Oh, what a golden flood of bullshit. For a minute Dom can feel it all boiling up inside him and he wants to just sit on the bench and spill the whole thing. But he can't. He won't. He changes the subject instead, asking the other man about his family. Get Kirk started on his kids and it's next to impossible to shut him up and he's soon searching for his wallet and the pictures in it, all thoughts of the marks on Dom's back and chest long forgotten.

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

Matt threads his way through the junkyard, edging his way past the compacted remains of old cars. The path he's on suddenly opens out into a large, flat space with lawn chairs dotted all around it. Matt eases the gun out of the holster at his back and creeps forward, never taking his eyes off the bare-chested, tattooed man sunning himself in one of the chairs. He's less than a foot away when the man turns and sticks a sawn-off shotgun in his face. They glare at each other, unmoving. Then Matt grins and holsters his weapon.

"I'll catch you napping one of these days, Chris."

"It'll never happen."

Dropping his shotgun, Chris bounces up and envelops Matt in a bone-crushing hug that leaves the smaller man breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? Weeks go by and nobody sees you, nobody hears anything. I was starting to think you were dead."

"I've been keeping a low profile."

"There's low profile and then there's no profile. I know you like to lay low between jobs, but that's never stopped you coming to the club and fucking boys in the bathroom. But now they sit around, all your little crime groupies, crying into their cocktails and waiting for you to come back to them."

"They'll get bored and move onto someone else. They don't have a choice, I'm done with that shit."

"You've become a monk, is that it?"

"Not exactly. I've ... met someone."

"And you're being faithful. You?"

Matt shrugs.

"I'm as surprised as you are."

"Who is this amazing man?"

"No one, he's just a guy I met."

"Oh, I get it," Chris grabs Matt by the scruff of the neck and gives him an affectionate shake, "you got yourself a nice little boyfriend with a nice little white-collar job and you want to keep him as far away from our world as you can. What did you tell him when he asked what you did for a living? Did you tell him you were in banking?"

"Something like that."

Chris pulls at Matt's pocket.

"Come on, get your phone out, I want to see this boy in action."

Matt slaps his hand away.

"There's nothing to see, Chris."

"Oh, come on! You're telling me you haven't filmed him blowing you at least once, or taken a picture of his junk while he was asleep?"

"I haven't."

"Fuck me, this is serious. Matt Bellamy in love, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Can we get off this? I didn't come here to talk about my love life."

"Ooh, so prim and proper all of a sudden, I love it," Chris sits down, "alright, tell me what you need. You know I'd do anything for you, Matt."

And he would. Matt could have done a lot less jail time if he'd cut a deal and given up his crew. But he refused to even consider it. Chris's brother and nephew were on that particular crew. They've since turned their backs on the bank scene and gone into coke dealing, a field much more suited to their talents.

Matt grabs a chair and perches on the edge of it.

"I think it's about time you took your dogs for a walk."

"They could use a little exercise," Chris agrees, "how many should I take?"

"Thirteen."

"Unlucky."

"Not for me."

"It'll cost you."

Matt takes an envelope from his jacket pocket and tosses it to Chris, who catches it neatly.

"This should cover your end and the cost of setting it up. They can keep whatever they take, a bonus from me to them."

"That's more than fair," Chris opens the envelope and thumbs rapidly through the bills inside, "you got a route in mind?"

Matt reaches into his pocket again and takes out a piece of paper. Chris takes it and scans it.

"You know I can't just put this together overnight."

"I know. How long will it take?"

"At least two weeks. I like to be thorough."

"I'd expect nothing less from you," Matt stands up, "call me when you're ready. Be seeing you, Chris."

"Leaving already?"

"I'm a busy man, you know how it is. Places to go, people to see, things to do."

"Boyfriends to fuck."

"You'd better believe it."

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

It's late when Matt finds the spare key and lets himself into Dom's house. In the bathroom he finds a new toothbrush, still in the packaging, along with a note: stop using mine! Matt unwraps the brush and cleans his teeth. He walks into the dark bedroom. The bedclothes rustle and the bedside lamp clicks on. Dom scowls and rubs his eyes.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he mutters.

Matt takes his jacket off, dropping it carelessly on the floor.

"Did you have a good day at the office, dear?"

"Not really."

The criminal unbuttons his shirt.

"How do people work in offices? I'd go crazy, all those people stuck in one place all day..."

"Less talk, more stripping."

"Bossy."

Matt undresses the rest of the way, taking it slow and enjoying the way Dom looks at him. He clims into bed and kisses the underside of Dom's jaw.

"Tell me something," Matt's hand moves beneath the covers, "is that a huge erection in your shorts or are you just pleased to see me?"

"What do you think?"

Matt pulls the cop's boxers off and strokes him. Dom moans softly but he doesn't reach for Matt, like he usually does. Matt's strokes become rougher, to no avail. Dom just lies there.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm tired."

"And you expect me to do all the work?"

"You catch on fast."

Matt is outraged.

"Lazy," he chides as he gets up and finds the lube.

Dom smirks and reaches behind him, gripping the headboard slats.

"Very lazy," Matt kneels on the bed and begins to prep himself. When he's done he moves onto Dom, lubing up his cock.

Dom blinks up at him as he gets into position.

"Just for that, I'm taking my time."

Matt sinks down onto Dom's cock, moaning and biting his lip as the thick shaft pierces him. When he's adjusted to the sensation he begins to move, setting a slow, almost glacial pace. Dom stares up at him, not moving, not making a sound. It's like he can't even feel what his cock is doing. But Matt soon learns that's not the case; the cop grows impatient and rocks his hips in an attempt to make Matt pick up the pace. Matt ignores him, sliding slowly up and down the other man's cock until Dom snaps.

The cop sits up and grabs Matt by the hips, lifting him up and off his cock. He flips Matt onto his back and now it's Matt's turn to reach up and grab the headboard as Dom sticks it in and pounds him into the mattress, giving him what he wants and needs. Matt's inner porn star decides to join the party.

"Daddy," he moans, "it's so good."

"You like that?"

"I love it, I love your big, long cock..."

"It's for you, it's all for you."

Dom punctuates each "you" with a vicious thrust. And then they're beyond words. Matt feels like a ragdoll, flying and jerking bonelessly beneath the cop and he's soon screaming as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. But Dom shows no sign of slowing or stopping and Matt's wondering if he'll leave this bed alive when nature finally takes its course and Dom discharges his weapon.

Now Dom is the boneless one, collapsing into Matt's embrace. But he doesn't stay down for long. Propping himself up on one hand, he slides the other one under Matt's back and flips them over without breaking the connection of their lower bodies. Matt laughs.

"Lietenant Howard, I'm impressed. Did they teach you that move at the police academy?"

"Nah, boy scouts."

"Speaking of the police academy, do you still have a uniform?"

"Yeah, for parades and special occasions. Why?"

Matt yawns and rubs his cheek against Dom's chest.

"I'll tell you in the morning."

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

"Lietanant!"

The newest member of Dom's team, a little pipsqueak still wet behind the ears, collars Dom as he's about to go for lunch. The pipsqueak's eyes bulge with excitement.

"You need to see this, sir."

Dom groans and follows the pipsqueak into the briefing room. There's a special map on the wall, covered in tiny lights, one for evey bank in the city. If a bank's silent alarm is triggered, the matching light on the map will come on. The rest of Dom's team is gathered around the map and, when Dom gets up close, he sees why. Five .... ten ... thirteen lights are now on. Dom faces the team.

"Did these lights all come on at the same time?"

"Yes, sir, they did."

Dom takes a deep breath.

"It's Bellamy, it has to be."

"Wait a second, lietenant," the pipsqueak pipes up, "you're saying all this is the work of one man? I think that's highly unlikely."

Dom turns on him.

"And I think you need to shut your mouth. Too many stupid things are coming out of it. Thirteen separate alarms in thirteen separate banks don't just go off at the same time. This was planned and there's only one guy we know who'd go to all this trouble."

Turning his back on the suddenly silent pipsqueak, Dom addresses the man closest to the map.

"There are cars on the way to all these banks, right?"

"Right, automatic response to the alarms. But where do we go? Which bank is Bellamy at?"

"None of them."

"What?"

"Someone triggered all these alarms. When has Bellamy ever set off an alarm? These are decoys, distractions. He's not at any one of these banks."

"Then where is he?"

Dom looks at the cluster of bright lights, trying to spot the thread. Then he sees it: one dark light right on the edge of the group, less than five minutes' drive from this very station. He taps the dark light.

"He's at this one. Let's move out."

His team just stands there and Dom glares at them.

"What, am I talking just to hear myself? Get on your fucking horses and ride!"

They almost make it. Almost. Dom's in the second car and, as they close in on the bank, he can actually see the suspects getting in the van. Bellamy's the last one in. He's wearing a mask, obviously, but Dom would know that posture anywhere. Then a loud bang echoes around the street and the lead car does a full one-eighty.

Spikes! Spikes in the fucking road!

Dom hits the brakes and, somehow, manages to avoid the spikes and the first car. The van disappears around the corner and Dom just knows Bellamy is laughing at him.

The rest of the day fades into a haze of arguments, paperwork and shitty coffee. When Dom finally escapes the circus he's completely whipped. All he wants now is a shower and his bed. Walking through his living room he takes his gun, holster and all, and drops it on the couch as he passes by. A shocking disregard for the rules of gun safety, but who gives a shit?

Dom loses his jacket and shirt as he climbs the stairs. He walks into his bedroom and has just enough time to see the candles and the naked man before the blindfold is slipped over his eyes.

"What a clever boy you are," Matt coos, "most cops would never see through my plan. They'd just sit around with their thumbs up their asses while I did my thing. But not you, no, you got it right away. Such a clever boy deserves a reward."

Matt guides Dom over to the bed. The cop protests.

"I need a shower."

"No, you don't."

"But I smell so bad."

Matt sniffs the hollow of Dom's throat.

"You smell delicious," he licks the place he just sniffed, "and you taste even better. No shower yet."

The cop lands on the bed and the criminal kneels on his chest and pulls his hands above his head.

"One thing I love about my job, no paperwork, no red tape, it gives me lots of time to shop for toys."

A pair of fur-lined handcuffs click around Dom's wrists, binding him to the headboard. His cock sits up and begs for attention as Matt pulls off his pants and shoes. But Matt doesn't touch him and Dom is left lying there, dizzy with anticipation.

The first hot blob of candle wax hits Dom's chest and he yelps, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure. Another blob hits his stomach. Then his chest again, two drops this time. Back and forth it goes, sometimes on his chest, sometimes on his stomach. Dom tugs at the cuffs in a futile attempt to free himself when Matt brings the candle to his crotch, the flame so close Dom can feel his pubic hair sizzling. Oh, he wouldn't - would he? Matt teases him for a moment or two more, then giggles and takes the candle away.

He settles himself on top of Dom and the cop opens his mouth to curse him out. But then Matt's mouth is on his, tongue plunging deep inside, and Dom's anger melts away. He nibbles at Matt's lips, then the salty-sweet skin of his neck. Matt moves over him and Dom licks, blindly, down his neck and chest until he reaches Matt's nipple. He latches onto it, licking and tonguing it. Matt grabs the back of his head and cradles him there, moaning.

"That's it, baby. Lick me."

Dom's tongue stabs at the nipple until Matt pulls his head away. When his head is pulled forward again Dom is confronted with Matt's erection, twitching alongside his cheek. The cop opens his mouth and takes Matt as deep as he can. Matt tugs at his hair.

"Just like that. So good, you feel so good."

Matt soon comes, growling and moaning. Hot spunk fills Dom's mouth and throat and he swallows frantically to avoid choking. Matt climbs off him and Dom can hear him move around the room.

"What are you doing?"

Dom is ignored. A hand raises his buttocks and a pillow slides underneath. Dom's legs are pulled apart, leaving him open and exposed. Slippery fingers circle his entrance, then delve inside, hollowing him out. When he's satisfied, Matt pulls his fingers away.

"There", he murmers, "now you're ready."

Dom frowns in confusion as he feels a large, smooth object push into his asshole. It's not Matt's cock, so what ... Dom hears a click and the object begins to vibrate. Oh, sweet Jesus...

The vibrator moves in and out of his ass. It hits his prostate and Dom whimpers, already on the brink. But then Matt's free hand clamps down on the base of his cock and Dom's whimper turns into a frustrated screech. Matt laughs at the sound.

"Don't worry, I'll let you come. But not until I'm good and ready."

Dom curses the criminal. Then he threatens him. Then he begs. None of it has any effect. The vibrator keeps fucking him and the vice-like grip on his cock never loosens. Dom has long since been reduced to sobs and moans when Matt releases his cock and shoves the vibrator into him one last time, the head of the device colliding roughly with his prostate.

Dom's entire lower body surges up and he comes so hard he half expects to see spunk dripping from the ceiling when the blindfold is finally removed. The vibrator and pillow are both taken away and Dom relaxes into the bed and waits for Matt to release his hands. But the crook just stand there and gives him a wolfish smile.

"What, you thought we were finished? Baby, we haven't even begun. It's going to be one hell of a night."

Comments

[tamarelmensdorp.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, spunk dripping down from the ceiling.

[hannah-chapter.livejournal.com]

haha, yep!