Fic: Eyes Wide Shut (Epilogue)

[mjartrod]

Title: Eyes Wide Shut
Author: mjartrod
Pairing: Belldom /??
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Voyeurism, group sex, S&M, het, various pairings, religious themes and breathplay
Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are fictional, even those based on real people and material (having been altered, added or left out for dramatic purposes). I do not own Muse.
Summary: Matt receives an invitation for a party he will not want to miss.

No, this is not a figment of your imagination… :p id say I’d post the epilogue to this story someday!

It definitely needs polishing, not to mention it’s unbeta-ed, but I’m posting this on a whim. I was on my way to my grandparents’ tonight, went by the church where the events in this story take place and got reminded of this fic. And being Christmas Eve and all… it’s just one of those ‘now or never’ things. And it’s been so long that I’m afraid that some references to things in previous chapters won’t have the same impact now, as people won’t recall everything. But alas, here it is, finished.

I haven’t been around much and I haven’t written in more than 6 months… but I still follow religiously everything to do with Muse and I’m pleased that Matt and Dom insist on feeding our perviness :p

Merry Christmas everyone :-)


Previous chapters

EPILOGUE
 
 
Matt rubbed his face on the velvety green surface of the sofa and sniffed. There was a slightly mouldy odour that he hadn’t noticed before. Tightening his hold around the slim waist of his companion on the couch, he pressed his chest against her back, sniffing her lovely red hair instead. He was curious about her nationality; maybe Danish if he had to venture a guess.
 
“What do you want?”
 
He froze and opened his eyes, somewhat taken aback by the annoyance in her voice, but then relaxed when he realised she wasn’t addressing him but Nic, who came out of nowhere to stand next to them, a half empty bottle of liquor gripped in his hand.
 
“Aww, come on love, give us a minute, will you?” Nic said.
 
“Fine,” she answered, turning to Matt and planting a kiss on his mouth before rising to her feet. “Want him back in ten minutes.”
 
“Don’t be selfish, darling,” Nic sat on the arm of the couch, watching her walk away to join a group of equally naked, yet masked, men and women who were sprawled on a lavish four poster bed, smoking
 
The Englishman rolled onto his back and looked up at Nic upside down to find a smirk on his face. He was no doubt amused at what Matt knew was the lazy, debauched grin on his own. He took the bottle that Nic offered him appreciatively, sitting up to take a sip, his head swaying dangerously. In the back of his mind something reminded him that he couldn’t exactly call a cab to take him back to the hotel but at the moment he couldn’t be arsed to think of alternatives.
 
“Pity she won’t be around for much longer,” Nic motioned with his head to the redhead, who was now kissing another woman unashamedly, before turning to Matt, the singer cocking his head to the side, intrigued. “Royal blood. Husband chosen for her since birth and all that shit.”
 
Matt curled his lip in revulsion. Evidently, European royal families hadn’t changed all that much. Pity indeed.

The luxuriously decorated large room in the church where the party had moved to after he and Dom were done in front of the altar was all rich velvet, shiny candlesticks, fancy couches and settees and four-poster beds; a piano stood in a corner and Matt recalled some banging on the keys earlier on that most certainly had not been caused by someone trying to play it. He was far too distracted at the time to give it proper attention, though.
 
“Where’s Dom?”
 
Nic laughed. “Last time I saw him he had his hands full. Difficult to recognise the two lucky ladies in the position they were.”
 
Matt snickered and handed him the bottle back. “You’re the only one apart from me without the mask.” He noted.
 
“We already know each other, it’s not a problem.” He took a sip. “But nobody’s about to risk getting recognised by someone who’s only here once. Which reminds me why I’m here,” his tone of voice changed and one big hand landed on Matt’s bare shoulder, shaking him playfully. “Congratulations are in order, mate! Fucking brilliant initiation! It’s been fucking ages since we had something that intense! Knew you wouldn’t disappoint!” He enthused, Matt letting his head drop to the back of the couch with a laugh. “You should’ve seen the reactions when you entered Dom's name as your guest!”
 
“Fuck off! Thanks a lot for telling me I was supposed to shag my own guest, you cunt!”
 
“Bugger, must’ve forgotten!” He smiled sheepishly. “And look who it is!”
 
Matt barely had time to scoot aside, Nic tackling an unmasked, very drunk-looking Dom, both falling on the couch tussling, while Matt giggled and put his feet up on top of the coffee table which was full of empty bottles, glasses and ashtrays.

Dom gasped for breath as he laughed and then Nic planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. “Back off, man.” Dom cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve got a reputation.”

“Just helping you to keep it, mate.”
 
They erupted in laughter and then Nic sat on the floor while Dom stretched his legs, resting his calves on Matt’s legs, grinning at him sleazily.
 
“So how was the redhead? Better than me?” Dom slurred, his eyes glinting. “Doubt it.” His dirty blond hair was drenched in sweat, strands sticking out in odd angles where the ribbon of the mask had been pressed against his head. “Wonder if you regret inviting him in instead of me, Nic.”
 
“What I wonder is how you can keep your balance with a head that size.” The Australian teased.
 
“’s called overcompensation.” Matt let his eyes trail over Dom’s cock, soft now, before moving upwards to meet his grey eyes. “No wonder he can get into those fucking tight trousers.”
 
Nic laughed and reached out to high-five Matt, Dom simply rubbing his chest lazily, his eyes locked with Matt’s.

***

There was a thin line of light bursting in the horizon, the moon still visible in the sky when they left.

Driving back to the hotel was a trial, despite the short distance. Dom had been the one behind the steering wheel this time but Matt had persuaded him to stop at the bridge as they crossed the border between Spain and Portugal. They scuffed their way to the guardrail, giggling drunkenly as they looked below to the river, its waters not deep but running fast over the cobblestone.
 
Sitting on the pavement, enjoying the sobering morning breeze, they watched the sunrise in silence, sharing a cigarette.
 
They could only imagine what a right sight they were when they arrived to their cosy hotel, untidy hair and crumpled, half unbuttoned shirts. They were met with smiles at the reception desk though, uttering perhaps slightly overenthusiastic greetings before going upstairs.
 
Matt fumbled in his pocket when they reached their rooms, searching for the key card he had placed there only two minutes before. He shoved it in the slot and the door clicked open, but he leaned his forehead on the door instead of stepping inside, sighing deeply for a moment. He spotted Dom having similar difficulties with his own key card when he glanced aside and the drummer returned the look.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to stride over to his band mate, to grab him by the elbow and step back again to his bedroom, Dom stumbling into Matt with a loopy grin as he was pulled strongly. Their mouths locked as if by magnetism, both exchanging feverish kisses in the hallway, harshly breathing through their noses as Matt pushed the door open again, impressed with his own coordination, and they toppled inside. Falling on the bed on top of each other, the two snogged and giggled until they came to a quiet, Matt collapsing on top of the blond.
 
“What are you doing?” Dom smiled. Matt seemed to be sniffing him, the tip of his nose moving below his ear, to the hair at the back of his head that he could reach, back to his collarbone. “Pure sex. That’s what you’re smelling.”
 
Matt was in a fit of giggles again but then he sighed contentedly.
 
“I smell of you.”
 
His fingers were absent-mindedly pulling on one side of Dom’s shirt so he could achieve a better view and satisfy the demands of his eyes. And after that he needed to undo the buttons in order to complete his task. He could almost see that nipple, but when he lifted his head to fulfil that sudden whim he’d just had, he was forced to rest it down again, unable to bear the weight. “Shit.”
 
“Whatever you’re trying to do-”
 
“What does it taste like..?” He scratched at the skin slowly with a finger, stubbornly puckering his lips. No, still too far away. It really was necessary to move his head closer.
 
“You can do it later.”
 
Later? Later when? If only they had the time. Flight to catch in the afternoon; London; Kate Fuck. He was so fucked. A headache was already setting in; he’d have to try and sleep it off in the trip. That was, if they managed to find transportation to the airport. He could barely recall where they were. “No time later, Dom…”
 
“When, then?” Dom insisted.
 
He thought hard, trying to visualise his schedule, their schedule, to remember arrangements. Everything seemed so blurry. But then the answer came to Matt. Less than a week now. “Manchester.”
 
Dom grinned. “Only if you unzip my bodysuit...”

***

The middle-aged lady swiped the key card and let herself in, quietly closing the door behind. The English guest had checked out late that morning, together with his friend, and as usual with that specific room the maids wouldn’t set foot inside until she gave them permission.
 
The bed was made, which at first suggested he might have not slept there at all, but the duvet was not wrinkle-free which led to the conclusion that he had probably lied on top of the bedclothes for awhile; no more than an hour or two going by information from her staff. Pity.
 
Walking across the room, her heels clicking on the floor, she stopped in front of the old mirror she had bought years ago in a street market. She frowned. Despite her best effort, she was not having a good hair day. She removed a small key out of her pocket and inserted it into a tiny opening in the mirror’s frame which was concealed by the intricate pattern. There was a click; she pulled the frame open, like the door of a cabine
 
The cavity in the wall was not very large, after all it had originally been designed to work as a safe. She had found another purpose for it, though far re exciting purpose.
 
Indeed it was a shame that this particular guest – and his handsome blond friend in the next room – had had such a short stay. They had certainly turned out to be the most interesting guests in there for a very long time.
 
She had found him delightfully pretty the night he arrived, all blue eyes, pale skin and sweaty dark hair. And such a soft spoken manner and lovely British accent… A feast to the senses he was.
 
And then she had watched the recording of the night before the last, the night his friend had spent there in his bed. She had almost gasped aloud when the bright-eyed gorgeous creature stared straight at the mirror from the settee where he sat while his friend kissed him; it was almost if knew.
 
Reaching out to the hole in the wall, the woman pressed the button in the camera to stop the recording, removing the small disk inside which contained footage of the previous day. There wasn’t much hope for more fascinating material, considering the two men had spent most of the day out, the late time of their arrival and the state they were in. The party had obviously taken place somewhere else.
 
But she was sure she would re-watch the images of that other night many, many times, both Englishmen giving her such an intense, private performance, unbeknownst to them. Kissing and touching and pleasuring each other, every gasp and moan captured by the camera behind the mirror.
 
The way his blue eyes, glossy with arousal, gazed at the hidden lens on the other side of the mirror.
 
Gazed at her.

The End