The Fanfic you've been waiting for
Authors: alottawarmheart & revolt_regain
Pairing: Matthew Bellamy/ The Joker (because WE CAN!)
Genre: pwp
Hello, Beautiful
Once I ran to you
Now I'll run from you
This tainted love you've given
I give you all a boy could give you
Take my tears and that's not nearly all
Tainted love
Marilyn Manson
'So that's where you are! " Dominic Howard cries out when he finally sees his band-mate, sitting at the bar of their fancy 5-star hotel in the middle of clouded, crowded and glowing New York. Bellamy's sitting straight, looking at the opposite wall, no particular expression in his shimmering blue eyes.
'Yes, that's where I am, “ he replies, taking another sip of his Bloody Mary cocktail. The drop of the scarlet drink stays on his lips, adding bright color to them.
'What's going on, mate? I hate seeing you in such a gloomy mood. You should chill out a bit, really. Stop being so damn serious!"
Dom's words are full of mixed emotions: he’s worried, trying to be funny and still having fun, at the same time. It's something Matt could never understand about his nature - he's always restless, so funny and easy-going.
Matt, on the other hand, always has the writer's blocks stalking him, insane fans and vivid dreams.
Matt doesn't reply.
Dom's eyes travel from Matt's gloomy face to the flat TV screen, hanging above the bar. There's a silent Dark Knight trailer playing there.
"Oh yes." Dom pinches Matt just as the singer's lips purse to take a drink, and twists his face in the direction of the screen.
"I know what we're doing, Matt." Matt just rolls his eyes and wrenches his head from Dom's hands.
"Matt!.." Matt groans, understanding what the moan means. It means he's about to be dragged along to something he surely is going to despise.
"Why so serious Matt?" Dom cackles at his own joke, Matt sinking into despair. That movie had been Dom's obssesion for weeks, and there's no stopping the quotes now.
"Let’s put a smile on that face!" Dom sinks into further peals of laughter and Matt trails the rim of his glass to try and distract himself from his thirty year old mate, now behaving like an excited two year old.
"Come on, Matty, it's all part of the plan!" Dom stops laughing, wiping his eyes with a sleeve of his dark-green shirt. "But really, we should go watch it! You'll get away from your depression and I love the movie anyway. "
"Okay, fine, " Matt says, putting his glass down. " But I'm only agreeing to watch it if Chris goes with us."
"Deal. " Dom looks happy, a wide childish smile lighting up his face. "I'll give him a call then."
Matt watches as Dom's dialing Chris' cell-phone number.
"Hello, Cheers! It's Dom. Where are you?"
"Probably hiding in his room and trying to avoid the inevitable storm that you are, blondie, " Matt says sarcastically.
"What do you mean you don't want to go? Oh come on, Chris! It'll be fun and Matt needs to chill out badly, otherwise he's going to kill us both at tomorrow's show! Yeah. Okay."
Dom puts his phone back into his pocket.
"He's gonna drive."
A shuffling line inches forward, the box office swarming with customers. The movie is obviously still very popular, despite being out for several weeks. Dom is practically dying with the excitement of it all, gabbling about exactly what kind of sweets he is going to get and exactly when he's going to eat them.
"Dom, calm the fuck down, " Matt rudely says.
"Matt! Isn't it all so great? I'm seeing it again! It's so much better at the cinema! I mean, the screen is just so...big!"
Dom barely seemed hurt by Matt's comments, getting more and more desperately rude to try and calm the blonde down.
The drummer just couldn’t stop mumbling nervously until they sat down, the lights all went out and the dark screen started glowing. Matt was shifting uneasy in his seat, a sufficient amount of alcohol taking over his thoughts as he simply let go of everything else and just started watching the movie intently.
1 minute: the trailer is on.. 2 minutes… 5 minutes… 10 minutes…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Where was he? Matt was pressed against a clammy wall, mould banished from the pristine surface. In fact, all of the walls were clean, the bloodstained floor the only dirty area. Metal hooks were roughly nailed into the roof where heavy carcasses were attached by the mouth, throats slit and bodies rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Rope bit into Matt’s raw wrists, his fingers struggling against the bonds, his eyes darting around the room and searching for salvation. They grasped on a tall figure in a three piece plum suit, a long tailcoat matching the suede looking trousers. His Chelsea boots clicked against the crusty linoleum, taking a step forward as his face emerged from the shadows perfectly villianesque. Ragged scars curved up from the corner of his mouth in a gruesome shadow of a smile. His hair hung by his jaw, the strange curls a musky green with the natural mousy roots showing through. An abnormal blade was clutched in his gloved fingers, his other hand running through his hair and slicking the locks back.
“Well, hello beautiful.” His American drawl echoed slightly off the walls, his tongue darting out and wetting his lipstick coated lips. Matt didn’t back away as he got closer, the face bringing back memories of the movie he had just seen. The Joker. Matt studied every feature, frightened by the burning want in the back of his haunting, ebony eyes. “What are you so scared of sweetie? Is it the scars?” The Joker twirled the blade skilfully in his fingers, not seeming to worry if he dropped it. Matt followed the glinting metal, silently tugging at the ropes behind his back and biting his lip to stifle the pained yelps threatening to spill from his lips. The Joker wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist, Matt freezing with trepidation but relaxing slightly as he felt the rope slide from between his fingers and slump to the floor. The, somehow soft, hair grazed against Matt’s cheeks, filling his nostrils with the scent of strong gasoline and matches. The supple gloves skimmed his bare forearms, his jacket removed and the thin shirt clinging to his body in this strange sitting position. The knife now trailed its way up his chest, the tapered point pricking his skin where the pressure was changed and his t-shirt ripped slightly. The blade, now pressed between his lips, stroked his skin with the flat of it, the cold sending a shiver across Matt’s body. “What’s your name, doll?”
“B-Bellamy. Matt Bellamy.” His stutter wasn’t because of the sharp knife about an inch away from his throat, but because of the new racing of his heart. This man wore white face paint and had the eyeliner skills of a drunken teenager, but it all added to his amazing, yet unexplainable, attraction. Matt was gasping for air as the hair wafted that gasoline smell back his way again, the smell infecting his brain like the smoke from a heavy spliff.
“Well, evening, Bellamy. How nice to make your acquaintance.” The words were low and breathy, animal lust rearing in Matt’s brain. His jeans seemed like an unnecessary detail right now, along with his ripped, and slightly bloody, shirt. The Joker seemed to think so to, the flat blade now cutting the button away from the loop of Matt’s jeans. Matt grinned a lavish grin and leaned forward to try and capture The Joker’s mouth in a hot kiss, but was instead met by the blunt edge of the knife straining against the corners of his mouth. He tried to push forward but was just met with the angry irises staring into his yet again, the teeth bared slightly in a slight smile of his own. “Already falling for the game, aren’t you?” Matt sub-missed and relaxed against the blade but kept the knife on his skin as it did wonders for his arousal.
Fingers began on the work that the knife has begun, the tight jeans soon pried from Matt’s legs completely and bunching around his ankles. The flat of the blade skimmed his skin, his stomach and torso tingling when the slight pressure was lifted. A winding cord wound tight around his insides, clenching harder and harder as The Joker circled his hand higher and the blade across, retracing its path across Matt’s flesh. Matt whimpered as his boxers rubbed against his flesh, the silky material delivering sweet friction to his screaming nerves, desperate to be touched. The Joker cackled at Matt’s plight, his hand backing away completely and the knife pressing against a rib, nicking the skin and drawing a drop of ruby red blood. The Joker darted out his tongue, licking the blood away and savouring the unique metallic tang smarting in the back of his throat. He withdrew his head from Matt’s bare chest, keeping the knife pressed flat so as not to cause too much damage, teasing Matt to the point of insanity. Matt groaned again, jerking his hips up and trying to gain some relief from his far gone state.
The Joker complied, but at his own pace, grasping Matt and stroking through his boxers in torturously slow motions. Matt gasped and moaned again, loudly, and threw his head back against the wall, the pain only adding to the building sensations. Matt bucked and grabbed The Joker’s shoulders through the velvety coat clothing item, gaining more leverage and winding the coil so tight it was almost painful. The Joker drew his hand away briefly to remove his glove, then set back to work with slicked and sweaty hands, dipping his thumb in the bead of pre-cum at the tip of Matt’s head. Matt panted hard, his lungs finding it hard to keep breathing when The Jokers hand was removing all thought completely, drawing it out with the sweat now shining on Matt’s skin. The knife turned again, drawing a longer cut across the top of Matt’s ribcage, just under his collarbone. It was still a light cut, barely grazing the skin underneath, but blood oozed more effectively out of this wound as the other cut healed quickly beneath. The Joker immediately dipped his head, lapping up the delicious nectar with fervour. He sucked, licked and bit on that patch of skin over and over, leaving deep hickeys and practically sucking Matt dry. Matt was overloaded and was almost over the edge, balancing on a precarious cliff as he tried to gain some self restraint.
But all of his efforts went to shit when The Joker sped up his pace, pressing firmer and moving faster, his hand warming up from the contact with Matt’s skin. Matt shrieked and wailed, his brain obliterated by the intense pleasure surging through every vein in his body. The Joker cackled along, almost harmonising with Matt in a beautiful melody. Matt thrust one last time into the Jokers hand, coming hard and long as he shallowly thrusted into thin air. He came down off his high to see The Jokers face gazing at his, the eyes a mix of amusement and wonder.
“You stained my suit, Bellamy.” Matt just bit his lip to stop the snicker trying to escape. He had to bite even harder as he realised where it had ended up on his suit, splattered all over the waistcoat. He tested a look into the Joker’s eyes but found the face so very close to his. He closed the gap and tasted the remaining dregs of his blood on his own tongue. The Joker withdrew first and lifted the drenched knife to his lips, licking it clean before retreating through the open door. Matt pulled his boxers back over his hips and grinned with abandon as he realised that he now had make up stains all over his body. Or where The Joker had tasted.
Looks like I spilled cake all over myself. Matt thought, his mind drifting back to what had just happened as he rested his head back against the wall for a second time and closed his heavy eyes.
Don't touch me please - I cannot stand the way you tease
I love you though you hurt me so
Now I'm going to pack my things and go
Touch me baby, tainted love
Touch me baby, tainted love
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, Matt, are you alright?"
Dom looks concerned about his best friend, peeping into his eyes, his own filled with question.
Of course I can’t tell him anything. He’ll just think I’m crazy.
"I'm... I'm fine, really, " Matt is slowly shifting into his seat, then he looks at the screen. There're credits running, half of the audience already gone.
Why is his head aching so much?
He gets up, ignoring the looks of his friends on him and leaves.
Sometimes the weirdest thing you see turns out to be real. And the rightest thing is always a dream. There can also be a dream within a dream, because once you get inside the world that's giving you exactly what you want you don't want to go out. You need to stay in the game. But when you lose and they throw you out of the game, you're still in the dream and you don't want to wake up.
Matt goes into the WC room, while Chris is waiting for him in his car and Dominic's buying something for his girlfriend. There's no one in the restroom and it's a bit weird, because the mall the cinema is in, is quite big and the cinema was actually fulled as Matt could remember. But he doesn't care about anything right now. The dream caught him off guard.
He leans forward and looks at himself in the mirror. His dark hair is a mess after he ran his wet hands through it, glowing blue eyes look a bit startled, Tommy Hilfiger shirt is a bit messy and he rolls up with sleeves.
If you don't wanna be in the game...
The Joker's voice suddenly wakes up inside his head.
Matthew shakes his head violently, whispers something and turns away from the mirror,the blur taking over.
Why do they make movies like that? Why does every one call it an action film and not a thriller?
There's a gigantic crowd in the mall, Matt can't find Dominic and calls his cell-phone. Nobody's answering.
Then he impatiently takes his jacket from the cloakroom and moves towards the exit.
If you don't wanna be in the game get out now...
The old gypsy is selling some kind of weird cards right before the exit. They’re definitely not Tarot. Although they don't look like classic cards either, they're too big and a little too bright. She is screaming something, it's too noisy and Matt can't hear what exactly. And then she throws a card in his direction, right when he's passing by.
It's big enough to see what the card it is even if you don't pick it up from the shiny floor.
It's not a Queen, a Knave and not an Ace either.
There’s a drawing of a man on it, his eyes dark as the darkest night hour, red lips curled in a wicked smile, wearing a purple suit and a weird clownish hat. He's holding his own card in his hand and there're beaufitul vivid letters glowing under the drawing.
"J-O-K-E-R".
Matt feels himself shivering, despite his inner voice telling him that it's all fine, that he probably needs to quit watching thrillers and just go to the hotel and drink some wine. But he can't help feeling uncomfortable and he starts moving rapidly towards the exit.
As soon as his lungs breathe in the cold air he feels much better. It's already dark, there're no stars of course, but as he lifts his eyes up to the shining sky he sees an enourmous white circle of the moon. It's perfectly round and pearly-white, whining, as if watching everyone.
There's a moment until he feels like himself again, already ready to move in the direction of Chris' car, when a familiar icy low, raspy voice stops him cold.
"Well, hello, beautiful."