Summary: Sometimes the little decisions we make have a bigger impact than we originally intended.
Rating: PG through NC-17
WARNINGS: The usual
Feedback: Would be nice
Disclaimer: This is all fiction, I don't own Muse
The following morning after tea and some croissants, we decided it’d be best to take a walk, just a quick one to clear our minds from the emotional evening before and hopefully set a pace for the journey we had ahead of us. Winter was still present in the air, a brisk chill stirring the back of my neck as I gripped Dom’s hand tighter with my gloved fingers, carrying a basket of vegetables from the market in my other hand.
“Want to sit for a bit?” Dom asked upon realizing how my steps had grown slower. He pecked my frozen cheeks, his cold and chapped lips rough against my sensitive skin yet still feeling like home. I nodded, and we took to a bench overlooking a small park where dogs were running, children were playing, and various other couples were holding hands and enjoying the beautiful day as well.
I mused quietly to myself, sinking into the warmth of Dom’s arm and chest as I observed the small park in front of us. It was all so peaceful, exactly what I needed after my body and mind had been at war for such a long time. The sound of birds and children and the brisk scent of cold air was calming, leaving me quite content to be silent and simply listen to Dom as he spoke again.
“It’s such a beautiful day.”
I turned, seeing his wide smile directed toward me, prompting me to move forward and settle into an embrace.
“What do you want to do today?”
“Eat, relax, you know,” I said with a shrug and a tiny smile. “The usual.”
He grinned. “I could make us pasta tonight and we could get a bottle of wine and-”
“Dominic,” I said sternly. “You’ll burn the house down if you try to make pasta.”
“You arse,” he giggled, giving me a light punch. “Always doubting my expertise in the culinary arts.”
“Oh, is your cooking art now?”
He gasped dramatically, covering his mouth in a way that made me let out a deep laugh, the kind of laugh that’s so great it makes your jaw and belly hurt. When I finally could breathe properly, I ignored the big pouty lips he gave me, and snuggled closer to him. I felt so incredibly safe then, like nothing could hurt me. My confidence was a castle that could never be crumbled completely, not anymore.
We sighed simultaneously, the moment of laughter then introspection passing over us as a group of businessmen walked past us, briefcases in one hand and coffees in the other.
“Can I kiss you?” I suddenly asked, looking at Dom. His lips were pink, just waiting to be sealed by mine.
He didn’t wait for an answer, and instead moved forward immediately to close the short distance between our mouths. Warmth and comfort - the two things I most sought out - were always offered when Dom’s lips were on mine. I couldn’t be separated from him, so I put my arms around his neck, inviting him to put his arms around me. The light touches I felt on my hips made me feel safe and secure. Using his hands, he was warming my bones with a layer of protection and stability. He made me stable.
“You okay?” he asked, pausing and lifting his fingers to lightly touch my chin.
I nodded, a small smile spreading across my thin lips. “More than okay,” I replied.
We went back to kissing lightly, children and parents and elderly couples and hurried workers all passing us by. We were the center of a snow globe it seemed: a snow globe of cloudy grey skies and a million different stories. To me, our story was most important, the story of how we came together and found love in each other from the worst of situations, the story of how we grew and grew until we toppled over and somehow had to find our way back.
My hands lingered on Dom’s shoulder blades, my fingers lightly squeezing in time with the movement of our mouths. Although the air was cold, my body was warm and wanting. I suddenly craved to be back home in the isolation of our own bed. I opened my mouth further, allowing for Dom’s tongue to dip in and dance around my own. Our mouths could be so in sync at times it was like our minds were connected by tiny pulses that told us which way to move and suck and taste so that we could be as close as possible.
I was practically in Dominic’s lap by this time; my fingers had found their way to his wavy hair and my chest was pressed heavily against his. The feeling of his hand traveling lower on my back shot little bursts of pleasure through me, and I let out a tiny sound of embarrassment as a woman and a man walked past us, giving us angry looks as they clasped their hands tightly and hurried to move away from us.
“Right,” Dom said gruffly. “I forgot homophobia is still a thing.” He gently squeezed my hip.
I frowned, burrowing my head into the crook of his neck and mumbling against his chest. “We could always go back home and continue there.” I hoped he would catch the suggestive tone in my voice.
“I quite enjoy publicly showing my affection for you though,” he replied. “Would love to just scream out to the entire city of London how much I love you.”
“Mmm, likewise. It might be a bit too much for some people though, love. You have to remember that.” I smiled shyly up at him. “Maybe one day soon.”
Although I didn’t say it aloud, my mind traveled toward things very different than just affection in public: bigger, more permanent things. For the time being, however, I was still ill, our relationship had just begun to start mending itself, and we had many steps to still take before we could begin discussing such things.
“This is my favorite bit,” I said excitedly, letting my left hand trail down the keys to lightly press the dissonant chord, somehow resonating perfectly with the staccato melody I continued with my right hand.
“I haven’t seen you smile so much in a really long time,” Dom said softly when I was finished, moving to sit on the piano bench beside me. “And for you to be so proud of something you created? Love, that is so wonderful.”
He kissed my cheek, his very light stubble prickling my sensitive skin.
“So, you liked it?” I asked. I hadn’t composed my own music since he’d left, and to perform for him after such a long time of zero confidence was nerve-wracking.
“I loved it. You never fail to amaze me with your talent.”
I blushed at the feeling of my heart pounding noticeably harder against the walls of my chest. I wondered if there would ever be a time where my body wouldn’t react that way to his praise. For reasons unknown, I hoped that would never happen. Maybe I was being selfish, but all I ever wanted was him to tell me I did a good job; after everything my weak mental health had put him through, he deserved that I do good things for him.
“Do you think you’ll be okay to teach soon? Lanie said you’ve been making huge improvements.”
I nodded. The thought of getting back into the music studio with my students excited me. I missed them and the way their eyes widened as they discovered new things about their piano skills and ability to master a piece of music that may have terrified them just a few months before. I felt I had a place of belonging when I was with my students, belonging similar to the kind I felt whenever I was with Dom.
“You’re thinking, aren’t you?” Dom suddenly mused aloud, interrupting my thoughts.
His grey eyes were studying me as a small smile played on his lips. I blushed.
“What are you thinking about, love? Care to share?”
“You, me, music, teaching. Everything, really.”
“Me and music in the same thought, huh?” Dom placed his hands flatly onto the piano, pressing down on random keys and allowing a horrible sound to ring out through our home. I prayed the neighbors weren’t around to hear such a tragedy.
“Please don’t ever do that again,” I said with a giggle, ashamed that such a beautiful instrument could make such an ugly sound.
“You asked for it,” Dom said with a chuckle, pounding down on the keys again.
I flinched, but couldn’t help the smile that escaped my lips as he continued to do some horrible thing to my precious piano. Soon the two of us were giggling like school children and Soldier had retreated upstairs to hide in the bedroom, away from all the horrible ruckus that Dom was making.
And then, we were kissing. It always ended like that, really: me being pushed to the floor as our lips met together and Dom faked an apology for destroying yet another sort of art. Cooking, music, it didn’t matter what it was. He was only educated in the art of the body, which of course I did not mind at all.
No, I did not mind at all, especially that night as his tongue explored every inch of my body and I explored nearly every method of reaching a mind blowing orgasm.
“Fuck, I love you,” I said hoarsely, my limbs numb and my stomach painted with my own come. Dom was touching himself and watching me intensely, basically pleading for me. I moved forward, still breathless from my own orgasm but nevertheless opening my mouth and swallowing him as deeply as my throat allowed.
“Oh Jesus, Matthew,” he groaned as I let my tongue run over the tip of his cock. His hands pulled at my sweaty hair, scratching at my scalp and making me moan around his length. I let him slip from my mouth and grinned wickedly before sitting forward in his lap so that I could kiss him and so that his cock was trapped underneath me, just barely rubbing against my arse. We moved just as if we were teenagers in a club for the first time. My cock was already hardening again and Dom was so close that his words were turning into a jumbled mess. “Jesus, fuck. I’m g-gonna come soon, oh- Fuck!”
He came quickly and messily. I could feel come dripping between my arse cheeks and down onto my thighs and, of course, onto the bed sheets I’d just changed the night before.
Dom’s hand found my cock and he quickly stroked me to yet another orgasm. The long sighs we both let out afterward were the strong sign that it was time to clean up and finally go to sleep. After I cleaned the both of us up and used the toilet, I returned to the bed to find him face down and arse up. I grew jealous of the mattress, of the way it contoured around his shape and seemed to connect with his skin. I thought about how we must’ve looked from afar when it was me beneath him and my skin which was connected with his instead of the mattress. Leaving the thought behind, I managed to inch myself between his body and the soft, now clean sheets.
“Oh, hello,” he chuckled.
I blinked, nuzzling up against him. “Hi.”
“I love you, Dom.”
“I love you too, Matthew, more than I could ever put into words for you.”
All recoveries had dips. Mine occurred most often in the dark of night, leaving me shaking with terror and unable to rid my mind of dark thoughts which I didn’t dare to ever tell Dom. He would hate himself if he knew that my sleeping mind still thought of death as a friend.
“You’re okay. I’m here, I’ve got you. Just breathe, love, breathe.”
I never could breathe, no matter how often he softly repeated the words to me. I wasn’t sure how he knew, but Dom’s ways of managing my panic attacks worked best, better than any method that therapists or doctors gave me. Maybe it was the familiarity, the voice I heard screaming for help in the middle of the night which I now screamed for.
Tears dotted my skin; I itched to scratch at something, anything, and the skin on my forearm seemed to call out to me most.
“Take this,” came a soft voice from my side. I grabbed the old button down shirt and let my nails dig into the stained fabric. Dom’s hand was rubbing reassuring circles on my back as I heaved forward, coughing and gagging.
“I, I sh-“
“You’re okay, you don’t need to say anything, love. Just breathe for me, in and out, in and out.”
My eyes were squeezed shut as I tried to concentrate solely on Dom’s calm voice. Although shaky, I was able to take normal breaths after about ten minutes. They were still draining, but the shorter attacks had a quicker rebound.
“Dom?” I asked when I was finally able to speak again. It felt like it’d been hours since I’d sat straight up in bed and screamed out.
“I’m here, love.” He was sitting right next to me, the duvet pooling in his lap.
“How long?” I asked, taking steady breaths.
“I woke up at half past one.”
I glanced at the glowing alarm clock sitting on the bedside table, flinching as I read that it was now half past two. An entire hour had passed.
“Oh, Matt, please don’t blame yourself.” He gently placed his arms around me. “You’re okay. You’re getting so much better.”
“You are.” Dom’s arms snaked around me to hold my still slightly trembling hands in his. “Look at you; you’re healthy, smiling most days, you’re going back to work soon! You’re doing so well.”
“I’m still like this though,” I said, gesturing to my head.
“Like what, hmm? I think you’re as perfect as you can be. Come here.”
I was pulled into a tight embrace, my ear placed conveniently onto Dom’s chest above his heart. It was thumping loudly and rhythmically, unlike mine which was still somewhat frantic and trying to steady itself.
Why was I like this? I honestly could not see it no matter how hard I tried. I had the most amazing man all to myself, a family who would give the world for me, and wonderful people who surrounded me and supported me in all other aspects. There was not a reason in the entire world for me to be the way I was, but for some reason or another, mental illness closed its eyes and picked me from the water.
Not that I could wish it on anyone else; I would never be able to bring myself to do something as selfish as that. I’d go through the mental torture a million times if it meant people like Dom, Sarah, Paul, and Gloria never had to go through it. I would subject my own body to every method of emotional assault and mutilation to ensure that Dom would never experience that sort of self hatred.
“Hey, love, just breathe,” Dom reminded me. My chest had started to burn with effort again and each time I inhaled I let out a gasping sound. “Just like that, yeah,” he said as I focused on slowing myself down again. “Yeah, that’s okay. Good.”
Dom always seemed to know just how to speak to me when these sorts of things were happening - brief and reassuring sentences along with a soft hand to the trembling shoulders. He was never heavy, never demanding.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked a few minutes later once he knew I had control over my breathing again.
I nodded slowly. “Water, please.”
He got up, leaving the door to the bedroom open so I could watch him go into the bathroom and fill a cup with cold water from the tap. When he returned I quickly guzzled down the water, dripping some down my chin. Dom wiped it away with a single touch of his finger.
“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I said a short while later. I felt gross, like I was completely matted with sweat and tears.
“Need any help?”
I shook my head and quietly excused myself. My legs were still shaky as I stood, letting the water wash over me and run into the different crevices of my body. I took my time washing my hair and my body, eventually sitting down and closing my eyes to try and relax.
“Matt?” came Dom’s voice from behind the cracked door. “You okay?” He swung it open and walked into the steamy room. His eyes had bags underneath his eyes and his hair way pushed back off his forehead, messy. He looked so tired, exhausted even, and I felt it was all my fault.
“I’ll be right out,” I said quickly, moving to rinse myself once more before turning off the hot water.
Returning to bed in a fresh pair of boxers and a clean tee shirt made me feel a lot better. I curled up next to Dom, who was warm and soft compared to my chilled and angular body. His arms wound carefully around me, pulling me into his chest as he snored quietly and peacefully. I wondered briefly if it was an automatic response in his sleep to pull me close. The thought warmed my heart.
“Love you,” he mumbled sleepily.
I smiled, taking a long and only slightly shaky breath through my nose and closing my eyes. Bright lights danced across my vision, bouncing and spinning and spiraling into nothing. I finally felt at peace that night with images of color and opportunity instead of darkness and hatred. I could feel Dom’s arms occasionally squeezing me in time with his breathing, a simple reminder that he was still there and would be for however long I wanted him to be.
I could not lie to myself; I would have Dom for the rest of my life.