Delilah's World

Title: Wedding Bells
Summary: Remember when Dom went "Hello, Adelaide" in Perth in 2007?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut. And some violence.
Disclaimer: It's fiction, of course.
Author's Notes: Massive thanks to goddess Tan who's been giving me a hand :D I hope you enjoy the story, it turned out much longer than I wished for (it will be posted in seven parts). Feedback is always welcome.



Chapter 2

 They had been anxious to play in Asia and their expectations were exceeded, to say the least. Playing for new audiences and visiting places they had never been to before while being received at the same time with tremendous enthusiasm was immense. They loosened up on stage in a way they hadn’t done for awhile and it made every single gig electric and memorable. It was like starting from scratch but without the insecurity and uncertainty that went hand in hand with it the first time around. The experiences apart from the concerts were unforgettable as well: exotic sights, strange foods, uncanny items to purchase, different habits and customs... Being away from their usual environment was highly uplifting and they would all agree it was a month of excesses for everyone.

But mostly for Matt. His mood had improved tremendously and so he was much better to deal with. And the result was that he was crazy on stage, inconsequent off it, and Dom could only guess how many nights went by when his body didn’t even touch his bed. He was plainly feeding off the energy of each city they visited, each crowd they played to, as if he was trying to absorb and take in everything each place offered. The steady stream of alcohol was joined by more frequent appearances of different drugs, some familiar, others new, though all harmless, and he would disappear for long hours, which would cause some concerns for security but fortunately not more than that. The flirting hadn’t stopped either. Gone was the outrageousness of the old days, recently revisited in Perth, but Dom could tell when the blue eyes found something alluring by the way they sparked, even in the darkness of the dodgy bars and clubs they spent the majority of their nights at. He never brought up what happened in Australia, though, to the drummer’s relief, nor had he repeated the nocturnal visit.

The last date, in Japan, gathered the band and the whole crew and staff in the hotel bar. Matt seemed very deflated and dejected for someone who lived the entire month with adrenaline pumping through his veins. He sat next to Morgan, laughing at the stories, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Good times, eh?”

“What?” Dom turned to look at Tom, noticing his slightly slurred speech.

“From now on... it’s gonna be all about Wembley... glad we came to Asia now.” He motioned to Matt with as much discretion as he could muster in his state. “Think Matt’s in a slump, you think he’s gonna handle it?”

Dom considered the question, while having another swig of beer. “Course he will. Will gives us all a nasty headache but we’ll hang in there.”

Another wave of laughter burst around the tables, Dom and Tom missing the joke. One glance at Morgan was enough to understand who the target of his latest piss taking was.

“We’re going to get shot! We’re going to get robbed and shot!”

Dom bowed. “You can show your appreciation for my saving all your arses by delivering quality beverages and other goods in number 85. Preferably goods that can suck dick, we’re in pain already. Although that’s to be solved by tomorrow anyway...” He stretched back on his chair, smugly.

“Shame, I had bought a dildo just for you.”

“Can’t let that go to waste, can we? Here.” Dom grabbed Matt by the shoulders, turning him to Morgan with a laugh. “Give it to him!”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you tosser?”

“You don’t mind it’s pink, do you? It was Dom’s colour.” Morgan continued, talking over Matt’s feigned offended complaints.

“Oh I know just the right thing.” Dom Anderson chipped in. “Will send you over one of those ladyboys that robbed me in Indonesia. Two for one deal: female and male in the same pack!”

“Now that’s a turn on.” Tom shuddered in disgust, while Chris laughed loudly on the other end of the table.

The sun was almost rising when they began to leave to get some rest before the flight later in the day and Dom was trying to get his door unlocked, snarling at his inability to open doors when drunk, when it suddenly swung open, revealing a smiling Matt.

“Surprise, surprise.” He batted his long eyelashes, posing suggestively but failing miserably at appearing sexy. “Me is here to give blowjob to mister.”

Dom blinked several times, wondering if he had drunk himself into such a stupor that he was having hallucinations. Until Matt exploded in laughter, doubling over and eventually sitting on the floor, wiping at his eyes. “Keys swapped, you twat! You got mine, I got yours.”

Dom eyed him suspiciously, then the key card in his hand, and concluded he was telling the truth. He released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, walking past Matt who was still giggling on the floor. He couldn’t deny that he was fearful of Matt’s escapades as of late, constantly wondering if his hotel room would be among his destinations, but it sure seemed he was also imagining things.

“The look on your face, fucking priceless!”

Dom started stripping, reluctantly smiling, and sat on the bed looking at his band mate, who seemed to have no intention of leaving and was much more animated now after all the booze. “You’re not going to sleep?”

Matt shrugged, the hysterical laughter almost gone by now. “What for? Flight’s in a few hours, might as well keep drinking.” He went to the mini bar and selected a small bottle with interest. “What is this shit? Vodka?” He tried to read the label, squinting. “Look, Dom, Vodka in Japanese!”

“Oh fuck, I forgot to call Jess.” Dom fell back on the bed, hands covering his face. “She’s going to kill me!”

“No blowjob tomorrow, eh?” Matt snickered as he sat on the couch unscrewing the lid. “No girlfriends, no nagging.”

The drummer sat up with difficulty, looking around for his mobile. “Yeah, we’ve been through this, haven’t we. I guess I’ve made my decision.” He found the device, opting for texting her. “You still split?”

“Gladly.”

Dom took his eyes off the screen for a second to look at Matt, who was downing half the contents of the bottle in one go. “You can’t lie sober let alone pissed!”

“You’re pissed too!” Matt retorted in a whiny voice.

“And I still see right through you.” Dom grinned in victory.

“Fuck that.” Stretching out on the couch, Matt sucked on the brim of the glass container. “Going to see her next week...” He added in a small voice.

“Good. Tell her that Dominic sends his best regards and that you make our life a living hell without her.” He had an inkling she knew all too well about that, they had all been together recently. She had flown on purpose to London for the Brit Awards, probably because it was Valentine’s, and Matt seemed to be making an effort to please her but it was clear to anyone who knew them well that they were not their usual selves and he would be lying if he said he was surprised to learn she had left the very next morning.

“God damn women, always so bloody complicated...” Matt muttered. “Why can’t I like men, would make things much easier...”

“That why you’ve been messing around lately?”

Matt kept his eyes firm on the label of the bottle, nails scratching on it to rip it. “Don’t know what the fuck are you on about.” He finally said.

He didn’t insist and even thanked Matt silently for choosing to avoid the subject; the question had been out of his mouth before he could stop it but he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore that particular path just yet. Not with the two alone, not after that night in Australia. He hadn’t managed to forget what happened and he had yet to comprehend the strong impact in him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Matt with a guy, his exploitations in the past were legendary. He used to do it to shock people, just as he had intended with many of his actions back then, and it had never bothered him or caused any reaction in lower parts of his anatomy. That was a long time ago. Now he was doing it again and it awoke a deep discomfort in him.

Dom had always felt very secure in his sexuality and his reputation preceded him, why was this unsettling him so much now? Maybe all the jabs at his fashion sense and some of his routines or habits were starting to get to him. Or maybe it was just horniness. He was still getting used to the idea of commitment, his girlfriend threatening to leave him if he slept with other women again, as he had shamelessly done in the past. Yes, maybe it was that. It was well documented how lack of sex did the worst kind of things to a man.

He saw the message “delivered” flashing on the mobile screen and he tossed the object to the couch, where Matt was now lying, eyes closed, the empty bottle on the floor next to his hand.

*

“Can you believe him?” Chris shook his head, as he told Dom all about their flight to San Francisco. “Fucking laughing.”

“Oh shut it already, will you.”

Dom glanced at the sulky Matt by their side, not knowing whether to cry or to laugh. They were checking in at the hotel in San Francisco, ready for another leg of the tour, this time in the US. The break was short and mostly they were working for the upcoming Wembley shows anyway but he had flown to California a few days earlier and missed the commotion in Heathrow. Apparently, Matt had inanely joked with the airport security about making bombs before boarding their flight, which not had only delayed their departure but also forced him to attend a rather unpleasant meeting for a small interrogation about his views on the country. The drummer would find it hilarious if it wasn’t for the obvious lack of humour everyone else involved was radiating. Matt himself was very testy and everything gave him a reason to whine.

“Stupid questions... Engaged. When did I ever say I was engaged... stupid questions...”

Dom didn’t want to tell him that the DJ of the radio station had been very nice and it was the singer himself who was extremely touchy. So instead he resigned himself to hear him mumbling all the way back to the hotel after the interview. According to Jess, Gaia hadn’t left Italy and he knew that his band mate had stayed in London the whole time with various reunions with engineers for Wembley; he was starting to believe this time it really was all over, they had never had a break that lasted this long before.

Fortunately, on stage everything was perfect, the gigs could hardly be more successful. They were on fire for the much hyped The Forum show in Los Angeles, surpassing all expectations, Mexico was beyond incredible and the partying so crazy he got one of the heaviest hangovers in years. And now, coming back to support My Chemical Romance, of all bands... It was a giant comedown and he seemed to be the only one who couldn’t hide the dislike for the arrangement. Yes, it was an excellent opportunity to present their material to new audiences and yes there was a good chance they’d blow everyone away, even with the subpar technical conditions supporting bands had to endure. Dom just wished that if they were to support another band at least they would do it for a respectable one... They weren’t bad blokes to hang out with and that was perhaps the one redeeming aspect. Even if they did sound a little over enthusiastic about having Muse opening for them, which instantly became a theme for various jokes among the members of their own crew. This could also be a good opportunity to socialise a little with the fans after the gigs, the likeliness of being mobbed much lower. The after shows were, incidentally, one of the best things about the deal, at least as far as he was concerned. No headlining meant less pressure and more time for fun.

Once again, though, the least exciting part of it all involved Matt and his behaviour every night after a couple of drinks. Not knowing how far he was going made his stomach twist and knot and the constant reminders that there was much hand shaking and arse kissing to do with the music industry didn’t help; straying in the slightest could easily translate into another setback in their slow conquest of America. He wished he could talk about it with the rest of the guys, he could see they were uneasy as well. But the subject quickly became taboo when they understood that these might not be the same mindless games Matt used to play in the past. Dom wasn’t homophobic: he knew gay people, had gay friends. It was not an issue. But it all came down to one thing: there was no doubt he preferred a very straight Matt chasing women around.

“Hey, man.” The interruption came by someone Dom recognised as a crew member for MCR. “Can I ask you something about Matt? Bellamy?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Dom didn’t mean to be rude (or maybe he did) but he couldn’t be arsed. The man’s jaw twitched but he decided to ignore him and left without a word, Tom snorting by his side.

“Git. Fucking daft, all of them. The band is okay, but the people they work with... Jesus Christ.”

The two men stayed by the counter, drinking and chit chatting, watching the ladies when Chris showed up looking for Dom. Jess had called several times but he wouldn’t answer the phone and she was arriving in Tampa in less than an hour to meet them.

“Shit, I left the bloody thing on the bus.” Dom concluded after patting his pockets to no avail. “I’ll go and get it, be back in a second.”

The buses were parked nearby, it wasn’t more than a five minute walk. Dom zipped up his green jacket and put his hands in his pockets, feeling the cold air of the night hitting his face. He was taking his key out when he realised there was someone inside. Chris and Tom were in the bar; everyone, in fact, there wasn’t a soul around. And then he remembered with a flip in his stomach that it had been awhile since he had last seen Matt, standing very close to some lanky guy in a quieter area... He wouldn’t dare. Would he? He considered going back inside and borrow someone else’s phone. But how silly was that? What was he afraid of? Instead he filled himself with courage and took a step inside.

*

He entered the bus, kicking his black and gold trainers aside immediately, not bothering to switch the lights on with such a clear sky. He was knackered. And the floor was swimming before his eyes. And he almost went to the wrong bus. But it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, how much alcohol he ingested he couldn’t go through with it. The guy he picked for the evening wasn't happy when he called it a night, they never were when he pushed things to the limit and then simply left them high and dry, but ironically, he could now discard every one of these random men without causing any fuss, such a routine it had become. The crew guy from MCR who latched onto his arm the moment he saw Matt was alone had a similar fate, receiving a flat "no" as soon as the front man understood he hadn't approached him for a chat. He stood there staring at the empty bus, remembering, wishing for a split second that instead of gloomily accepting his rejection, someone would force him into it. He didn’t even know why he wanted this, it was mind-boggling.

He sat down, running his hands through his hair, and thought about taking a shower, he was still wearing the white t-shirt and trousers he had performed with. He wondered what time it was in Milan. Maybe... maybe he could call her. Stop being so bloody stubborn. But she was stubborn too... and he loved that about her.

“Well well well...” Came another voice. “Hello, there. Mate.”