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June 9th, 2010

Title: 'Eternally Missed': Chapter 2 (may be extended into a longer, NC-17 story if it receives positive feedback)
Author: xspiral_static  (me)
Pairing: Matthew Bellamy/Dominic Howard ("Belldom")
Rating: G
Warnings: none, as of yet (if continued this may go up to as far as NC-17)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nor do I imply that any of this is actually true or based on truth - simply the product of innocent adulation and vivid imagination (lol)
Summary: set in 18th century England at a masked ball, charming lothario Dominic Howard is captured by his coy friend's musical wizardry...
Feedback: greatly appreciated <3 :)
Notes: first ever posted fic, be gentle with me ;) This chapter has not been formally beta'd, so apologies for any grammatical errors or historical inaccuracies.


‘Eternally Missed’: Chapter 2, by xspiral_static

Dominic emerged sluggishly from his cubicle, relieved that the pressure in his bladder had gone away... it seemed to make his guilt worse. He splashed his face with water from the tap, hoping the water would wash over his visions of sin. Seeing the diminutive yet captivating Matthew work his magic – no, his devilry - had reminded him of something that had long bothered him throughout his adolescent years, something that he refused to become part of his life. He loved, craved women, with their coy games and delicate forms, and had become known for his nocturnal antics. Yes, he liked this persona, it reinforced the confidence and mischievous charm he exuded, which only led to yet more women and remarkable tales of his virtuosity between the sheets. But there was something about his friend that he couldn’t deny was attractive.

He was just so different to him; with brilliance comes fame, and with fame comes arrogance and complacency. Dominic had watched Matthew grow to become a star in classical circles, watched the upper classes embrace his enviable talents. And yet, the pianist still showed no sign of an acknowledgement, let alone an appreciation of his gift. He still blushed furiously every time an admirer or ageing aristocrat showered him with praise and adulation, still stumbled over his words as he thanked them earnestly. A modesty, a dignity that Dominic could never retain whenever girls talked of his hidden talents. Celebrity and recognition had not spoiled his shy, warm and honest nature, and for this Dominic was both pleased and disappointed. He severely doubted that Matthew was even aware of just how good he was, and thought that if he did he would have that little bit more confidence – but then he just wouldn’t be the Matthew he knew anymore. He certainly wasn’t socially-inept, one of the lads to be found leaning precariously on the bar in the local tavern on a Friday night; but not half as loud, obnoxious or sexually indiscriminate. No, Matthew had respect, that’s what it was. He possessed a sensitivity that far surpassed his own or any of their lairy friends. And that’s why he felt the way he did for the kind gentleman.


And that’s when the man himself appeared in the entrance of the gents. His stance was amiable yet upright, leaning against the doorframe while his flowing deep red embroidered coat enveloping his modest form. A slightly surprised, yet obviously pleased smile graced his petite features. Dominic’s head snapped round to meet those deep, turquoise pools that resembled eyes. He stammered.
“Ah! Matthew, my good friend!”
Matthew's smile grew into that boyish grin he loved so much. "Dominic, my dear old friend."
Dominic's weariness was in a instant banished, and moved forward swiftly to greet his companion, but his voice still cracked under the embarrassment of being caught unawares. "Haha! Oh, yes! Marvellous performance, old boy! Mind you, that's usual, eh?" He tried to make light of his honest, most serious opinion, but it just did not sound as easy or sincere as it was meant to in his own mind. Matthew was delighted nonetheless by the man's compliment, but it was clear his laugh was borne out of self-consciousness. And Devon's own Don Juan could see it. "Come now, I mean it!" Dominic flashed a genuine smile, wanting to make his friend happy (and accept his statement of fact).

The man lowered his raven-haired head in a coy, self-indulging smile. Hmph, why could he not just say thank you and be done with it? (No - that would mean he agrees.) Dominic regarded the slightly hunched figure from the other side of the small, dark chamber, feeling an overwhelming urge to ease the discomfort radiating from his lonely figure. Was this simply his shyness, or something more? A tension? Was something amiss? ...Had he witnessed Dominic's conspicuous behaviour? Oh God, please, no. Matthew looked up, still smiling, but another, intense, convoluted emotion was present behind the good humour found there. They held each other's gaze for a moment, unsure of what to do. The connection was electrifying, elating. Terrifying. Dominic Howard could feel himself falling into the deep of the droplets of pure ocean that were Matthew Bellamy's eyes. An opened mouth, (beautiful lips) the verge of an utterance, (sweet breath) only to clam up again (sigh). A shift in weight; a step closer? Both gentlemen, it seemed had something to say, yet were damned if they would.

Dominic, not a fan of awkward social situations, with considerable effort broke off the heated stare first and searched for something to dispel the disconcerting silence. "Good wine?" He gestured towards the half-empty glass.
Matthew's eyes, torn back to the here and now lit up, before he took a languid sip of the dark ruby liquid. He let both his head and eyes roll back as he felt the sweet poison slide down his throat, flood his senses. Jesus Christ. "Mmm..." He savoured, regarding his now empty glass. "Shiraz-Grenache." He looked at Dominic. "My favourite!" A frankly unnecessary assertion of his enjoyment of the beverage. Why was the simple, innocuous act of drinking so erotic? Was it seeing the pianist's neck convulse as he consumed the liquid aphrodisiac? Or was it the mist of lust that clouded his heavy-lidded eyes for just a second? Stop it. This is your friend, good old Matthew - not a penny whore!
"Erm...?" Dominic glanced around the lavatory, assuming Matthew will have wanted to use its facilities.
"Oh, yes, of course," Matthew answered his companion's observation, moving towards the nearest cubicle hurriedly in his awkwardness.
Dominic smiled as he brushed past him to leave. "I'll wait for you outside, shall I?"
Matthew nodded, eyes at his feet as he shut the cubicle door quietly.

Phew... Dominic sighed as he leant heavily on the wall next to the lavatory. Of all places, and of all times, why did Matthew choose to bump into him now? This was not good. Not only were his feelings for Matthew troubling him, but it was upsetting their easy, playful friendship. But why did he seem flustered as well? His smile, although it reached his eyes felt rushed and surprised. Alarmed - perhaps he hadn't wanted to walk in on him either. Had he sought the privacy of the lavatory to escape him? Oh, no. Maybe he should just leave now, not wait for him. Maybe he was stalling, taking his time in the hope that he would get sidetracked -
Matthew appeared at his side. Surprised again! What a sly, dextrous creature. Devil. But this time, Matthew's smile seemed easier, more relaxed.
"Ah - so what was I going to tell you? Oh yes - the Duke has requested our company for after dinner brandy and cigars. I was looking for you to let you know." (Liar). Matthew hated himself whenever he lied - it felt easy, too easy - so wrong.
"Oh, I haven't seen Chris in ages, the old scoundrel!" Dominic laughed as he thought of his wealthy friend, and walked with less than relative ease next to his friend towards Duke Christopher Wolstenholme’s private quarters.

January 7th, 2010

Could you spend the rest of your life with someone who had horrific taste in music? How important is it to you to share your love of music with a good friend or romantic partner?


No - I'm an obsessive Muse fan, and although I'm more likely to get on more with someone who likes/loves Muse, the issue would be whether or not they could accept and put up with my constant talking about/listening to/going to see them! It pisses off most people who know me lol!

In general, yes music taste is a big factor in the progression of emotional intimacy of a friendship/relationship because it's obviously a big part of my life. A heated musical debate always entertains me as as a Muse fan I am gifted with a certainty of my superiority hehe jokes :p I personally cannot see the attraction of blatant manufactured Pop, R'n'B etc. - Rock/Metal etc. all the way!

/snobbery lolz.

Basically, any Musers out there, drop me a message haha! ;)



November 4th, 2008

Title: 'Eternally Missed': Chapter 1 (may be extended into a longer, NC-17 story if it receives positive feedback)
Author: xspiral_static  (me)
Pairing: Matthew Bellamy/Dominic Howard ("Belldom")
Rating: G
Warnings: none, as of yet (if continued this may go up to as far as NC-17)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nor do I imply that any of this is actually true or based on truth - simply the product of innocent adulation and vivid imagination (lol)
Summary: set in 18th century England at a masked ball, charming lothario Dominic Howard is captured by his coy friend's musical wizardry...
Feedback: greatly appreciated <3 :)
Notes: first ever posted fic, be gentle with me ;)


‘Eternally Missed’: Chapter 1, by xspiral_static 

Dominic Howard was drunk. Very drunk – he could never resist the lure of Port. So drunk, in fact, that the attention he was paying to the beautiful ingénue standing in front of him began to waver… and that didn’t happen all that often, as you could imagine from a true Casanova. Even though the voluptuous “Rose’s” cleavage was in the perfect place to be spied upon for the blonde-haired gentleman, his gaze and thoughts began to wander. Not quite aware of himself, his thoughts seemed drift all around the room. He felt a strange urge – only he didn’t actually know what it was that he wanted. Half-cut, he assumed it must be physical gratification so he glanced around as nonchalantly as he could for some easy prey, as for some reason, the woman trying to keep a firm grip on his attention was boring him stupid.
“Mr Howard?” Rose said, quite offended by his lack of interest.
“Hmm?” a swaying Dominic jumped, startled.
“What ever is the matter?” Rose said, suddenly wondering whether or not the man was going to collapse.
“Oh, um, nothing, my dear – just contemplating your unparalleled beauty,” he slurred, turning on some emergency charm, his smile slightly wonky.
“Oh, Mr Howard! You are too kind,” Rose blushed furiously, although she was sure the considerable amount of drink that had passed his lips had something to do with the remark. He did smell strongly of alcohol; the stench nearly made her swoon.

Sure that he had escaped a scolding, Dominic returned to his blissful voyeurism. The luminaries of high society hidden behind Venetian masks whirled around him in dance, as rich tapestries and the candlelight capturing his eyes made everything so dream-like... and strangely sexual. He was becoming increasingly aware of the need that was boiling up inside him. More concentrated on his task, he seemed to sober up a little. It was only then that his brain registered the beautiful assault of sound bursting from a far corner of the majestic hall.

Matthew Bellamy, musical genius, was doing what he did best. He was engrossed in the fluid motion of his own slender, angelic fingers, feverishly waiting to be able to perform the crescendo of his latest masterpiece. After he finished casting a spell over the dancing couples, slaves to the climax of his music, it was time for a more tame number. As the difficulty of this piece was considerably lower than that of the last, it required minimal application of mind, and Matthew allowed his body to feel the dizzying effects of the effort he’d just put into his wizardry. He felt dehydrated, and signalled for the butler.
“Yes, sir?” said the butler.
“A glass of water, please, my good man,” said Matthew, feeling the sweat dripping from every pore. It made what one could see of his face, shrouded in his sweltering mask shine in the light of the candle that seemed almost holy, which stood proudly on the grand piano.

During a few more tedious songs, Matthew had time to think about his quest for a woman. Although he didn’t progress much; whenever a sinful thought entered his head, he blushed and quickly pushed it from his mind. What the shy one needed was a drink. Following a few stronger beverages, the innocent Matthew allowed his mind to be consumed by alcohol, to be flooded with waves of fantasies. They were, as fantasies go quite predictable for someone so brilliant… apart from one scene which entered his head.

Dominic had watched Matthew capture their guests with his irresistible magic – and there was no way of disguising it – he had fallen victim to it without any struggle. It wasn’t an unusual thing, being gobsmacked by Matthew’s music. But this time, the music (and probably the drink) seemed to act like a truth serum: he began to think things that he always used to put from his mind whenever it had betrayed him. Dominic frantically tried to block the unorthodox images, but it was no use. He had had too much to drink already, and the pressure in his bladder gave him the perfect excuse to escape to the privacy of the lavatories, just to get his head straight.

Matthew sighed heavily as his final piece drew to a close. Phew. It was time to cool down… and dive into the nearest fountain. What had he been thinking as his fingers had worked their magic? He swore he’d slipped up at least twice, as he’d indulged in something that he hadn’t in a long while. He knew there was a tap in the lavatory, and made his way unsteadily to it, glass of red wine swaying in his tired hands.

To be continued...? Comment and find out ;)

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