Enemies Part Three

Title: Enemies Part Three
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.


Dom paces up and down his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. The other hand holds a phone to his ear. He listens for a minute, then shakes his head impatiently.

"No, that will never work. Because he's too smart for that."

The voice on the phone begins to argue its point. Dom breaks in and shuts it down.

"Shut up and listen to me. There's just one thing you need to understand about Matt Bellamy: stealing is his life. He's a clever son of a bitch and a natural born criminal. If we can see something from three angles, he can see it from twenty-three. These traps you're talking about might work on other guys. They won't work on him."

More indignant squawks from the other end of the line.

"It's late, I'm tired, we'll talk about this in the morning."

He hangs up without waiting for a reply and tosses the phone on the dresser. Pulling off his pants, socks and underwear, he slips beneath the covers and looks into a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

"You say such nice things about me," Matt bats his eyelashes at the cop.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Dom does just that, rolling on top of Matt and stopping the criminal's mouth with a savage kiss.

Three weeks earlier:

Dom leans back in his office chair and rubs his eyes. Paperwork, paperwork, it's everywhere he looks, mountains of it on his desk and the floor around his desk. Things are quiet on the bank front, with Bellamy laying low, licking his wounds and planning his next string of jobs, so Dom thought he'd make the most of the lull and try and shift some of the paper in his office. But it's hopeless; for every small stack he gets rid of, two more take its place. Ah, to hell with it, it's Friday night. He'll start again on Monday.

He's halfway home before he remembers there's next to no food in his house. Food shopping sounds like too much hard work, so he parks around the corner from his favourite pizza place. Returning to his car, he opens the passenger door and deposits the pizza on the seat. Then something digs into his back and an all too familiar voice hisses in his ear.

"You're not very observant, are you, lieutenant? That's a serious flaw in a cop."

Dom tries to turn and the gun jabs into his back, hard enough to bruise.

"No, no sudden movements."

"What do you want from me?"

"Walk to the back of your car and open the trunk."

Dom does it and something cold and metallic is shoved into his hands.

"I thought you might like these back. Cuff yourself, hands in front."

The second bracelet locks into place and Dom is shoved into his own trunk. The lid slams down and the car starts. Dom's not a big guy but, after twenty minutes in this small space, he's in agony. He's sharing this already cramped space with a spare tyre and every bump and movement of the car slams the offending object into the small of his back.

The car stops, the trunk opens and he's dragged out and dumped unceremoniously on the ground. He lies there, glaring up at Matt and turning the air blue, calling the bank robber every foul name he can think of until Matt grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him to his feet.

"You have a filthy mouth, lieutenant."

Matt pins him to the car.

"And I love it."

Dom opens his mouth to curse some more and Matt shuts him up, covering the cop's mouth with his own and thrusting his tongue deep inside. Dom knows he should resist and he raises his cuffed hands to push Matt away. But as Matt's tongue maps the inside of his mouth the need to resist melts away and, instead of shoving Matt away, he grips the front of his shirt and pulls him closer.

When the need to breathe finally separates them Dom clears his throat.

"What are we doing here?"

"I'm feeling romantic."

"This is romantic?"

"Sure it is."

Matt drags Dom to the front of the car and pushes him down until he's spread out on the hood, looking down at the lights of the city.

"See, very romantic. A nice, warm night and a great view."

Matt reaches around and unbuckles Dom's belt.

"I even," Matt nips at the cop's earlobe, "brought lube."

He pulls Dom's pants and boxers down, exposing him to the night air. Dom jumps and moans when a slick fingertip slips between his cheeks and toys with his hole. He pushes back, wanting more, and is rewarded when a slippery, impossibly long finger begins to slide in and out of him. It's soon joined by a second and then a third. They tease him to the point of insanity, moving deep within him, just glancing off his prostate. Dom's head lashes from side to side, every inch of him drenched in sweat.

"Stop fucking around back there and fuck me!" he bellows.

Matt clicks his tongue.

"Patience is a virtue, lieutenant, didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

"Fuck that! Do it!"

"If you insist."

Dom fairly sobs with relief when the criminal finally enters him. This is all kinds of wrong - but, oh God, it feels so right. They were meant to be together, in every way there is. They fit together, in every way there is. They both know it and now Matt proves it, creating a delicious friction that will soon send both men over the edge. Dom rests his cheek on the hood, the cold metal feels like heaven against his flushed, sweaty skin. If the guys at the station could see him now...

Matt reads his mind.

"What would your friends say if they saw this? What would they do if they came up here and saw Lieutenant Howard sobbing out his pleasure at being pleasured? Would they look away, disgusted or would they cheer you on?"

He punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, the last one hitting Dom's prostate in just the right way. Dom screams into the night, barely feeling Matt's last thrusts as he fumbles his way to his own release.

Matt withdraws, letting Dom sink to the ground. He pulls his pants up, then kneels beside the cop and presses a small key into his unresisting hand.

"Here, you'll need this. Don't worry, I washed it. Thoroughly. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got things to do."

Matt gets back in the car and drives off into the night, spraying Dom with gravel as he goes. Dom frees his hands, stands and rearranges his clothes. Oh, this is just fucking perfect. He's alone in the middle of nowhere, his car's been stolen - and he never got to eat his pizza.

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

Dom's standing in the main squadroom, getting a cup of water from the cooler when a uniformed cop approaches him.

"Lieutenant Howard?"

"That's me."

"We found your car, sir."

Dom's eyebrows shoot up like oil prices. It's been over a week, he thought Bellamy had sold the damn thing to a chop shop.

"Where is it, the impound lot?"

"No. I think you'd better come with me, lieutenant."

"It's been burned out, hasn't it?"

"I think it's better if I just show you, sir."

Dom follows the other man to his cruiser. He can smell the crime scene before they get there, a strong chemical stench searing the inside of his nostrils. Stepping out of the car, he's met by Tom Kirk from Homicide. The other cop passes him a face mask.

"Here, you'll need this," Kirk puts on a mask of his own.

"What is that?"

"Bleach. Whoever dumped your car here doused it in industrial strength bleach, inside and out. We're looking at a real pro here. The chemical destroyed all the forensic evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

Kirk leads Dom to the car and point at the back. Dom stares at it for a long time. Lenny's lying in the back seat, a couple of holes in his chest and the word RAT carved on his forehead.

Dom walks away, trying to control his breathing. Kirk's right there with him.

"Looks like Lenny opened his mouth one time too many. He was one of yours, wasn't he? I'm guessing that's why he was dumped in your car. "

"He was mine, when he wanted to be. Was he killed here, do you think?"

"Hard to tell, but I wouldn't think so. I'm guessing whoever did him put two in his heart, mutilated him post-mortem, then drove him here."

Dom squeezes his temples, he can feel a headache coming on. This is going to be one bitch of a day.

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

Dom locks his new car and fumbles with his keyring, looking for the key to the house. He spent the day in various offices, explaining his relationship with the deceased, just how his car was stolen and why the body was found there of all places. Telling the truth would be suicide so he danced around the issue and the experience has drained him.

Just as he opens his front door a figure steps out of the shadows.

"I thought you were never coming home."

Dom's gun is in his hand and aimed at the other man before he knows what he's doing. Matt holds up a hand in surrender.

"No need for that. I'm not armed."

Dom lowers the pistol.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Jesus," Dom is suddenly aware of their surroundings, "get in here before someone sees you."

He grabs Matt's leather jacket and pulls him inside. In the kitchen, Dom makes sure the blinds are shut before he turns on the light. Matt holds up a bottle of wine, then places it on the kitchen table.

"I brought you something."

"Cut the shit and tell me what you want."

"You."

Dom blinks, not expecting such a direct answer. Matt comes closer and Dom draws his gun again.

"Stay away from me."

Matt stops and shakes his head.

"Does it always have to be like this? Guns, handcuffs and threats? Can't we just talk like normal people?"

The cop lowers the gun and places it on the counter behind him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I just told you why. I want you. I can't stop thinking about you, you've gotten under my skin. And I think I've gotten under yours, too."

"You really are an arrogant little shit, aren't you?"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Dom is silent as Matt closes the gap between them.

"I'm right, we both know it, so why don't we drop all the macho bullshit and just fuck each other's brains out?"

Dom can't think of a counter-argument as Matt's mouth meets his. He's not sure how it happens, but they're on Dom's couch now, both naked from the waist up, kissing and groping and grinding against each other. The pressure builds until Dom stiffens and screams into the other man's mouth. Fuck, he just came in his pants. He can feel the blush start in his toes and work its way up his body. He waits for Matt to say something smart, but the crook is grimacing down at his own crotch.

"I hate it when that happens."

Dom blinks up at him.

"You too?"

"Yeah. I think we should get cleaned up."

"Sounds good."

One quick shower later they're lying in Dom's bed. Cuddled up together, they pass the wine back and forth, swigging directly from the bottle like the manly men they are. Dom passes a hand over his face.

"This is insane. What are we doing?"

"I believe the technical term for this is cuddling."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Matt props himself up on one elbow, "let's make a deal. I'll keep doing what I do and you'll try and stop me doing what I do. But when we're here, like this, we're off the clock. And if you catch me in the act - "

"When I catch you in the act."

"If you catch me in the act, I'll keep my mouth shut about this."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"This is the one thing you can trust me on. I don't like rats."

"I know. I saw what you did to Lenny."

"Poor Lenny. But he brought it on himself. Somebody had to put a cork in him. I made it quick, I could do that much."

"How very noble of you."

"It was nothing personal, just business."

"What about those guys you offed in prison? Were they just business?"

Matt rolls onto his back.

"When I got to that place I took a good look around and I knew I wouldn't last. I'd be chewed up and spat out unless I did something, and fast. My first week, I tried to make myself invisible and I looked for that one guy, the one who walks right to the front of the lunch line, the one who gets the nice chair with the best view of the TV in the lounge. I found him and then I made a plan, I'm good at making plans. He cornered me in the shower one morning, like I knew he would. He made a point of breaking in the new fish. I let him back me up against the wall. I had a razor blade in my mouth and then I - "

Matt whips his head from left to right, a quick, savage movement.

"All the evidence washed down the drain. Nobody saw anything, nobody heard anything, nobody said a word about it. But, from that day on, the nice chair in the TV lounge was mine and I was the one who walked right to the front of the lunch line."

It takes a while for Dom to find his voice.

"And the others?"

Matt shrugs.

"Sometimes you have to fight to keep what you have. Law of the jungle - eat or be eaten. When you're in the trees, you have to swing."

"Nice. How do I know you won't cut my throat while I sleep?"

"You don't. But doesn't that just make life more interesting? You haven't answered my question. Do we have a deal or don't we?"

Dom takes a drink, then sets the bottle on the floor.

"Get on your hands and knees."

"Yes, Daddy."

As he straddles the other man, Dom knows he's sowing the seeds of his own damnation. And he doesn't care.