Hello.
Thank you soooooooo much to whoever put this story in the 'Favourite ' , it means sooooo much to me.
Sure, I'd prefer you to say something about it, even a word, c'mon, pretty pleaseee .. it would make my day. ;)
III.
Dickhead, dickhead, dickhead!
That's what I am.
How the hell did that stupid witty remark about the shower escape from my mouth?
It would be just as well if I said to you 'Matt, I love you and I wanna do unspeakable things with you!'.
You just missed realizing my not so friendly reaction when you, literally, fell onto me. I pushed you away and turned onto my stomach on the mattress just in time, as I tried to cool down quickly.
And it wasn't easy, not with you talking to me. With such a soft tone. God only knows how much I love your voice.
I tried to ignore it and concentrate on something else, thinking about a world where there's not hairspray and people are forced to live without a hair-set; a world where there's no French cheese, a world where hot-pink is an out of fashion colour, a world where fashion doesn't even exist!
And, thanks to my lucky stars, it worked, I managed to get up and you didn't have any suspicions.
I'm a dickhead, because now, thanks to my bloody mouth, I got you having a shower, in my room, which means you taking your clothes off, with only a wall separating us, a thin wall, for the record, and a door which should I open just a little bit to…
No, I'm not helping myself this way!
I'd better think about something else, such as which clothes to lend you. I start with socks and boxers, black will be just perfect.
I draw out a pair of black jeans, kind of skinny, from my suitcase. I promise myself that these jeans will fit me again soon. In the meantime, I'm sure you'll look wonderful in them, even though they will probably be a little large for you.
Sometimes I hate you for that.
Now, let's think about upstairs : shirt or t-shirt? I choose the second option, giving you a hot-pink t-shirt, one of my favourite t-shirts ever.
Matthew, can't you see how much I care about you?
And the only thought that soon that t-shirt will smell like you makes me feel dizzy.
I can hear the water flow, which means that you are in the shower.
Oh, God! This also means that you're naked! No, no, no, I'd better not think about it.
The water begins to flow louder, but it's not the only thing I hear, because, maybe feeling protected by the downpour of the water that partially cover your voice, you began to sing and your melodious voice is filling the room.
You're giving me such a big privilege.
Yeah, you, Matthew James Bellamy, the only singer who doesn't want anyone to hear him when it's a matter of recording just the voice, without a musical base supporting you, right now you are singing for me.
No, okay, I'm exaggerating. You are singing in my room. And, by coincidence, I happen to be here, too. And I'm listening to you, vaguely, but I am.
I move towards the door that is dividing us and that closeness allows me to identify more easily the melody and the lyrics, too, until I manage to recognize which song it is.
'Ooo, you make me live
You're the best friend
that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
You're my best friend.. '
The Queen. And not just any Queen song. Nope. One of my favourite songs. One of our favourite songs.
So, Matthew, you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?
I sit down, with my back against the door, straining my ears to listen to you better.
Oh, Matt, can I pretend that you're singing for me?
'Ooo, you make me live now honey
Ooo, you make me live
You're the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love
I really love the things that you do
You're my best friend
Ooo, you make me live.
I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend.'
You keep singing, with all your flawless trills, also having fun imitating the sound of a guitar with your mouth.
Although I can't see you, judging by the way you're singing I'd dare to say that you look kind of happy.
Where does all this cheerfulness come from? Maybe from the dream you had?
Oh, right, I forgot. You don't remember that dream.
That's it, I'm a dickhead, once again.
Yep, because if I had woken you up immediately, instead of driving myself crazy with all my paranoia, probably you would recall your dream, we would talk about it and I would find out if it was just an insane trick of your subconscious… or there's something more beyond that.
But now I'll never ever get a chance to know that.
The water stops flowing, that gives me the time to rush to the bed and sit on it, acting casual.
A few seconds after, the door opens and you come out.
"See, Bells? After all, a shower is not such a terrible thing, after all!" I make fun of you and you playfully show me the finger.
And then, I make the huge mistake to look at you: wrapped in that blue bathrobe, so loose that it lets me see a little bit more than I should be able to, with all the drops of water from your hair trickling down to your face, your neck, your chest and then disappearing into places I'm not allowed to see.
Lucky drops of water!
And your expression is something unique: worn out, cold, as you rub yourself with your hands and then you dry your hair with the towel. The already dry golden locks of yours already start to rise in a messy way, as the still drenched locks stick on your forehead, water trickling down once again.
"Great. Now I'm even more tired than when we finished the concert!" you grumble, as you keep rubbing yourself, emanating a very nice smell of peppermint.
You're spectacular.
I thank my lucky stars for wearing large pants, large enough not to let you notice something, when I walk near to you, in order to get in the bathroom and have a shower.
I don't mind if you used all the hot water, I'll just need the cold one, icy, if possible!
I thought that seeing you almost naked and wet meant to put my self-control on maximum strain, but when I get out and see you are wearing my clothes, I have to change my mind about it.
Mostly because you lay down on the side of the bed where I sleep, with an elbow on the mattress and one hand holding your temple, as you aim your lethal blue weapons at me.
You're scarily gorgeous.
I just miss stumble on the carpet as I walk towards my wardrobe, opening it.
When I realize I'm almost dry, I take off my bathrobe, letting it fall on the floor. Contrary to you, I already put my boxers on under it.
I draw out a pair of jeans, between grey and icy light blue and then I look for the t-shirt.
I get the feeling that your eyes are on me and when I look at the mirror inside the door of the wardrobe I realize it's not just a feeling: you're really staring at me, with a ravenous expression, no less.
Too bad that you realize that I saw it and turn your gaze somewhere else, as if nothing happened.
Unseen by you, I can't help smiling: maybe, at the very end, there's a kernel of truth in the dream you had.
"Gee, how long does it take you to choose what to wear? We're only going out with Chris, it's not like the President invited us!" you make fun of me.
"My dear, we are in France, the country of elegance par excellence, you can't expect me to pick up the first thing I grab from my wardrobe… that would be your stile!" I strike back and we both burst out laughing.
Finally I find the perfect match: a coral-red t-shirt, lightly spotted and from your approving nod I realize it's the right choice.
We go back to the bathroom, helping each other dry our hair and then we're ready, so we go out.
You're laughing. Madly. Chris must have just said something very funny and now I would probably be laughing with you, if only I had listened, instead I just pretend, hoping that you won't realize I haven't the slightest idea whom or what you're talking about.
Truth is that during all of dinner, which has been over for a while, I kept silent, lost in my thoughts. Well, just one thought, or rather an obsession: you, Matthew, dreamt about me. I mean that kind of dreams!
And I can't help thinking of the way you were devouring me with your eyes, in my room, when I took my bathrobe off.
It's almost as if I was assembling a puzzle and I still missed some pieces. I have to find them.
"Guys, I'm going back to my room. It's been an eventful day and now I'm worn out." Chris warns us.
I heard it clearly, this time.
"I understand you, buddy. It's just that we…" I answer, but Chris interrupts me.
"Yeah, I know, Matt told me about your nap!"
"Uh? Did he really do that?" I wonder.
"Yep, as you were lost in one of the two-hundred-and-forty-five trance states you had tonight!" Chris makes fun of me.
"He's right, you definitely don't deserve the award for Best Long-winded member of the band, at least not tonight!" you come to his aid.
I prefer not to reply.
"Lucky for me, I know you well, so I wasn't very concerned, not even if you have disappeared for half the afternoon!" Chris makes us notice, as he gets up from our table. "Well, my dear selfish friends, , you could at least involve me in one of your romantic elopements sometime!" he adds with a laugh, before leaving.
I know he was just kidding, I know there's not even a single, bloody hint of insinuation, and yet I can't help blushing instantly.
The question is… why did you blush, too, Matt?
Here's another missing piece of the puzzle.
"This wine makes me feel dizzy… maybe I drank too much. Hey, Dom, don't you think that the lights of this place heat the environment way too much?" you promptly justify.
The wine, the lights… sure, Matt, sure.
I nod, pretending to agree. Truth is that I'm pleased by all these revelations. This could be a majestic chain of misunderstandings, I could be seeing things that actually don't exist, my imagination could be playing the most cruel trick ever on me, but I don't care, this time I wanna get to the bottom of this matter.
For now I just have to wait, and it's not a big effort for me. I love spending nights just with you, it's almost like a date. Sure, we keep our distance, nothing remotely romantic ever happens, quite the contrary, sometimes I have to deal with you as you tell me about some girl, or even worse I have to pretend to do the same, not to make you suspicious.
Anyway, it's a moment just between you and me.
Suddenly, I recall something very important: no matter how rarely you talk in your sleep, whenever it happens, it's never an isolated case, it happens more than once, and I'm almost sure it's gonna happen next time you fall asleep.
I don't know if you'll dream about me once again, but if you do, I'll be there.
We come back to our hotel ten minutes after 1:00 a.m. and everyone goes to their respective room.
I wait for a while, after all, with all the adrenalin in my body, it's impossible for me to sleep.
After 2:30 a.m. I decide I've been waiting long enough. You should already be on a REM state.
I leave my room and I tip toe towards your room. Getting in is not a problem, since always Chris, you and I give each other the copy of our keys, in case of an emergency, but mostly as a proof of mutual, total trust.
As silent as a thief, I open your door, get in and close it behind my back. You left the window open and the moonlight allows me to see you very clearly.
The summer heat made you decide not to sleep under the cover of the bed, but to sleep upon it.
You took my jeans off and now you're wearing just my boxers and my t-shirt.
You came back to your room, so you could have exchanged clothes so easily… and yet you didn't.
You lay there, on your side, with a serene expression on your face, clenching your fist around a corner of the t-shirt, where your heart is, as your other arm rests on the boxers.
Gee, Matthew, you're a tease even when you're sleeping!
Anyway, it seems that you're not dreaming, so it's just useless and risky for me to stay here.
Still as silent as I can, I walk towards the door.
"Dom, is it you?" you exclaim, making me startle.
I turn, as I search for the most believable excuse to justify the fact that I'm here and then I realize that you changed position, now you're on your back, but your eyes are still closed.
You're dreaming. And it seems that you're dreaming about me, once again.
"I knew you would come back, 'cause you want more…" you keep babbling in your sleep as I approach to your bed.
"I want more, too." you add, smiling.
My plan should be to wake you up instantly, so you can recall this dream and we can talk about it, but I prefer to wait until things get more interesting and I don't think I'm doing anything wrong if I sit on the other side of your bed, in order to supervise everything better.
I can't help smiling. It seems that even the Dominic in your dreams can't stay far from you. He's just like me.
"Come closer." you order and, pretending you're talking to me, I slide closer to you.
Without even realizing that, I bring one hand to your face, starting to caress it, going down to your neck and your shoulders, as my other hand sinks in the softness of your hair.
What the fuck am I doing? I could wake you up this way.
"Mm.. niiiice." you smile, almost purring like a cat.
I begin to think that you won't wake up so easily, that the Dominic in your dreams and I are acting in perfect synchrony and maybe I should take all the possible advantages of this situation.
To hell with the reason why I came here!
"Touch me, Dominic, I need to feel you." you implore.
Softly, my hands find their way under your t-shirt. Wait, it's still my t-shirt, after all.
I stop fighting with myself, as soon as I touch the smooth skin of your alabaster chest, teasing your nipples that become turgid under my fingertips.
"More, mooore!" you moan, arching your back.
I immediately obey, skimming the band of the boxers, before crossing it and placing my hand on your cock, still trapped inside the fabric.
I begin to caress it, happy when I feel it harden more and more, caress after caress.
Oh, Matthew, you're making me dream your dreams and it's so wonderful!
"Oh, God! Dominic, I wa.."
I don't even let you finish your sentence, shutting you up with a kiss which you instantly answer to, as I straddle you, pressing my hard cock against yours.
Oh, fucking shit! I've lost control, this is too much! Maybe I still have time to quit it and…
Too late.
I feel you stirring beneath me and I open my eyes again, without even realizing I have closed them, and I find out that you also popped your eyes open. Our lips are still sealed, my chest is skimming yours and I'm still straddling you.
I break our kiss, lifting my gaze and my torso. You're staring at me in confusion, maybe you're not fully aware of what happened.
"Dom? You've just… "
Okay, I was wrong. You are fully aware.
"It's not what it looks like!" I have the nerve to declare, denying the evidence.
You look at me in utter disbelief.
"Are you sure? Because to me it looks like you are straddling me and you were kissing me a few seconds ago!" you make me notice, peremptory.
"You're right, Matt. I'm so sorry, I don't know what the hell possessed me. I've made a huge mistake!" I speak hastily, as I move away from you, but you stop me, looking deeply into my eyes, awfully serious.
"That's right. You made a huge mistake, not because you kissed me… " you explain, holding me on your lap.
I stare at you with hopeful eyes, even more when I see your previous seriousness melting down into a very sweet smile. "But because you stopped it." you conclude, as you're caressing my hair.
I can't believe this is happening for real.
"Matthew, are you… are you really saying that you…"
"Dammit, Dominic! You can't even begin to imagine how long I've been waiting for this moment to come, I wasn't even so sure that this moment would ever come. I was just patiently waiting for a sign and now you've given me one hell of a sign! Finally I can tell you how I feel about you." you explain to me, without stopping your smile.
After all, I'm also smiling at you, so much that I could have palsy. Anyway, I can't help teasing you.
"Why? How exactly do you feel about me?" I ask you, rhetorically, as I straddle you tighter.
"This way!" you almost growl, pushing me away with a cat-like leap, with the only purpose to roll with me on the bed and place yourself on top of me, as you give me the most passionate kiss I have ever received.
TBC
Just some quick notes:
- the song Matt sings under the shower is 'You're my best friend', by Queen.
- No matter how hard it is, sometimes it's really possible to resume dreaming the same dream.
- My favourite moment ever : the clothes!
This is the t-shirt (which I love and I 'made Dom ' wear it in other occasions) that Dom lends to Matt (and he would look just wonderful with it, I'm sure that at least once he wore it for real!) :
.
This is Dom's outfit:
.
Now, there's only a missing part: the conclusion , where our beloved guys will have their more than deserved fun… and from Matt's POV! ^^
I hope you'll still like it, but feel free to tell me anything, really! ;)
p.s. HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone! ^^