Chapter Text
Matthew Bellamy was startled awake by the tinny sound of one of his own songs emanating from the mobile phone on the bedside table. Reaching out a fumbling hand to silence the unwelcome intrusion into his sleep, he muttered dire threats against Dom’s person under his breath. The sod had bought him the evil thing as a ‘present’, despite knowing how much he’d enjoyed binning his old one, and then messed with it so every time he called, ‘Glorious’ played (“’Cos that’s what I am,” Dom had declared when Matt had discovered this. “Fucking glorious!”). Finding the answer button with difficulty, he put the device to his ear and spat, “Go away, you total dingus. I. Was. Sleeping.”
“God’s sake, Bells, you crotchedy old bastard,” Dom’s disgustingly perky voice responded. “What’s got you so cranky?”
“You, obviously,” Matt mumbled, scrubbing at his face in a futile attempt to stimulate his brain.
“By rights you should be well-rested and ready to go. Didn’t you say you were going straight back to the hotel after the gig to sleep?” Dom asked, ignoring Matt’s less than friendly tone.
“I did say that, but it didn’t happen,” Matt replied without thinking. “Decided I wanted a drink, so I got the driver to drop me at a bar near the hotel, and I met this woman-”
“You are such a man whore, Bellamy,” Dom admonished jokingly. “Can you go anywhere without pulling? Don’t answer that. We both know you can’t. Anyway, take it this scuppered the plans for an early night. So… What was she like? Details, details, details!”
“I may be a man whore, but you’re a dirty perv. Always sniffing about for salacious details like a hormone-ridden fourteen year old,” Matt retorted. “And, since you ask, she was completely mental but also kind of incredible…” He trailed off, his bleary eyes finally taking in the unoccupied other side of the bed. “What the fuck?! Where’s she gone? She was here when I went to sleep,” Matt exclaimed as Eleanor’s absence sunk in.
“You let her stay?!” Dom barked in surprise. “That’s not your usual style, Bells.”
“Well, I actually had to convince her to. She was all for doing a runner,” Matt replied sheepishly.
“This gets odder and odder. You’d think I’d be used to that by now with you,” Dom pondered. “Anyway, you need to move your skinny arse. The car’s coming to take us to the airport in an hour. Get showered and crap and meet me downstairs for breakfast, where you will explain all,” he ordered.
“Jesus. Yes, Mum,” Matt said childishly. “Give me half an hour, then.”
“Okay. I’ll order your usual so it’s waiting when you get there. Later.” And Dom hung up abruptly.
“Git,” Matt breathed idly to the now silent phone. “I hate it when he does that.”
Tossing it aside, Matt eyed the depression in the pillow next to him. To tell the truth, he was sort of hurt that she hadn’t bothered to say goodbye. And him not having to kick a shag out was, frankly, unprecedented. Scanning the room keenly, he was relieved to find everything where he’d left it. “Well, at least she didn’t add insult to injury by nicking anything,” he said out loud as he hauled himself out of bed. Matt stretched luxuriantly, getting sadistic enjoyment from the sound of his spine popping, and headed towards the bathroom.
Flicking the switch just inside the door, Matt winced as the harsh, artificial light battered at his eyes. Squinting, he shuffled to the extravagant, multi-headed shower and turned the dial to scalding before walking to the basin.
Raising his head, his eyes popped open fully as he spotted a piece of hotel notepaper stuck to the mirror. Intrigued, he detached it and perched himself on the edge of the bath to read.
Bellamy,
Sorry to shag and run, but I had a flight to catch and wanted to avoid any ‘morning after’ unpleasantries, so left you to rest. You look disarmingly innocent when you’re asleep, by the way. Hard to believe that face is capable of the things you do when you’re awake…
I’m pleased to inform you I won’t be topping myself in the near future. And that means you don’t suck at sex, so congratulations! But, more importantly (or less, depending on your point of view), it also means your income won’t be drastically curtailed, which I can assure you it would be if I dropped dead. Seriously, Id’ve single-handedly funded one of your Mansons by now. Your bank manager would notice if I wasn’t around any more, even if you wouldn’t.
Shit man, are you absolutely sure you don’t want me to tell anyone about this? You’d come out really well. Hmmm… Maybe I will stop on the way to the airport and get that ‘I shagged Matt Bellamy’ t-shirt made after all.
Honestly, you’re actually hotter in person than you are on stage, which is quite astonishing, and you made all my little fangirl dreams come true, so cheers! In fact, I’m still in shock. So much so that I’m repeatedly checking the bruises on my arse (thanks for that, by the way. It’s nice to have a souvenir) to make sure this is real. You’re right there, obviously, but I’ve had daydreams like this before…
I solemnly swear not to stalk you,
Rigby
PS Tell Dom and Chris they’re awesome for me.
Matt snorted out a half-disbelieving laugh and read it again to be sure of her tone. He wasn’t entirely certain she was kidding about that t-shirt…
Smiling to himself, he carefully folded the note and wandered out to put it in the lid of his suitcase, before changing his mind and slipping it into his wallet instead.
Puzzled at his own actions, Matt shrugged it off and returned to the bathroom. Turning to step into the shower, he caught a red flash in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He looked again. There was a perfectly preserved set of teeth marks on his left buttock, and he suddenly recalled the shock of Eleanor biting him, and the look of unholy glee on her face as she’d gazed up at his outraged response.
Brushing his fingers over the mark, flinching a bit as it stung, Matt grinned insanely at his reflection and giggled quietly. The more he thought about it, the funnier it became, so by the time he eased himself fully under the stingingly hot cascade of water he was cackling manically. Tears of mirth mingled with the shower’s spray as he leaned against the wall and tried to regain control of his laughter. Shaking his head in appreciation, he gasped out loud, “Seriously, that girl was a fucking nutbar.” Finally reaching for the shampoo, Matt sighed, “Respect.”
***
Showered and dressed, Matt met Dom waiting for him at a table in the restaurant downstairs, hoeing into his own breakfast as a plate of banana pancakes and a pot of tea with lemon sat ready at the place opposite.
Swinging into his chair, Matt grumpily took in Dom’s bright eyes, freshly shaven face and perfect hair. The well-coiffed sleep disturber always looked unfairly good in the mornings, even after a heavy night. “Where’s Chris?” Matt grunted in greeting.
Smiling affably, Dom responded, “He had breakfast in his room. Told me he was going for a wander and he’d meet us out the front when the car’s due. Hurry up and eat, Bells. Then spill.” And he returned his attention to his eggs.
Scowling, Matt poured a cup of tea and poked at his pancakes suspiciously. Deeming them acceptable after a trial bite, he consumed them with his customary haste. Knowing not to interrupt, Dom had finished his own breakfast and was sipping complacently at a cup of coffee when Matt looked up again, plate cleared and mood marginally improved. “Tah for that, man,” he waved at his stomach and turned it into a reach for his tea. Draining it, he replaced in on the table and casually asked, “So, what’d you get up to last night?”
“Oh no you don’t, you evasive wee tosser. We’re not here to discuss me,” Dom said sternly. Damn it. His diversionary tactics never worked on Dom. He knew all his tricks. “Now, who is this woman and why did you expect her to still be in your bed this morning?”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. “What does it matter now? It’s not like I’ll ever see her again. She was… interesting, is all. I had a pleasant time,” he finished with a slimy leer.
Rolling his eyes, Dom pointed an accusing finger in Matt’s face. “Exactly. And you’re usually thrilled to share the details, even when we really don’t want to know. Especially then. But you’re keeping this to yourself. And you let her stay. Wanted her to. That’s just unnatural. If it’s really no big deal, you’ll tell.” Leaning back in his seat, Dom crossed his arms and looked at him expectantly.
Twitching his fingers against the tabletop nervously, Matt grudgingly gave in. “You are such a fucking nag, Howard. And stop pretending you don’t love it when I fill you in on my exploits, because we both know you do.” Dom’s lip twitched at this and Matt smirked. “Aha! Got you. Anyway, shut up and don’t interrupt and I’ll tell you all about it to prove you wrong. Deal?”
“Deal, Bells,” Dom nodded. “Spit it out. The car’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Unless you want to share with Chris and Tom too.”
“Pass,” Matt grimaced. “Okay. So I’m at this bar not far from here having a quiet drink, fully intending to head straight for the hotel afterwards. Alone. The place is quite busy and there’s only one stool free next to me, and this woman, mid twenties, takes it. So I’m feeling polite, and she’s right there, so I say, ‘Hiya’. No ulterior motives. And her face, which isn’t so much pretty as it is arresting, goes sort of blank, mouth half open, fantastic pouty lips too, and she’s staring at me in horrified amazement-”
“Hate to tell you this, Matt,” Dom interrupted, “but pretty much everyone looks at you like that.”
“Shut it, you,” Matt glared. “As I was saying, she’s gawking and then suddenly babbles something about God and gets up and runs away. Not far, just into a corner, and I’m like, ‘What the?!’, until I notice what she’s wearing. Muse t-shirt. And she’s fairly disheveled, so it’s obvious she’s just come from the gig. Fangirl alert. I swore I heard a muffled scream coming from her direction, but she suddenly straightens up and sort of saunters back towards me and then she-”
“She? Does this creature have a name? Or did you forget to ask again?” Dom asked seriously.
Gesturing wildly, Matt scoffed loudly. “Why does everyone insist on giving me shit? What have I done to deserve it? Nothing, I tell you. Rigby, I mean Eleanor - that was her name, you dick - was as bad as you. Started taking the piss almost immediately. Lost count of the number of times she insulted me. And she was a big fan, for Christ’s sake! What is with that?!” He appealed to Dom, as if he was genuinely perplexed and wanted an explanation.
Shaking his head, Dom laughed, “There’s just something about you, Bells. You’re asking for it. What’s the deal with the two names, then?”
“Oh,” Matt blinked, filing away the ‘just something about you’ comment to bring up again later, “well, her name was Eleanor, but I called her Rigby. Like the song. Told me she was named after it.”
“You gave her a nick name?” Dom asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. So what?” Matt snapped defensively. Sometimes he loathed how easily Dom could read him. “Thought you promised to keep quiet and let me talk,” he blustered. “You’re doing really well so far.” And Matt gave a condescending little round of applause.
Refusing to rise to the bait, Dom examined his nails with an air of supreme unconcern, waiting.
Giving an exasperated sigh, Matt dug in his pocket for his wallet. Extracting it, he removed the note he’d been left on the bathroom mirror and unfolded it. Glancing up, he saw Dom’s questioning look. “We’ve not much time, so just the basics, yeah?” At his acquiescing nod, Matt continued, “Her name was Eleanor and she made zero attempt to disguise the fact that she was a massive fan. Yes, she was mental, but in a good way. Clever, sparky, and very, very funny.” He held the note out for to Dom to take. “Here, read this. I found it after I spoke to you earlier. I think it’s the easiest way of showing you what she was like and why I wasn’t averse to the idea of her staying the night.”
Taking the proffered piece of paper, Dom began to read. A grin settled on his face almost immediately, swiftly morphing into a low snigger. Looking up, he mouthed the words, “‘I shagged Matt Bellamy’ t-shirt” with wide eyes before he resumed reading. Coming to the end, he carefully refolded the note and returned it to Matt with a neutral expression.
Replacing it in his wallet, he waited impatiently for Dom to speak. When he failed to do so, Matt demanded, “Well? What d’you think?”
“Since when d’you care what I think?” Dom replied, but relented when Matt huffed indignantly. “Sorry, Bells. What I meant to ask was – how was the sex?”
“Typical Dom question,” Matt said with a grin. “Answer – fucking epic. Made me work for it, the stubborn witch, but it was so worth it.”
“Then I think you should’ve tied her to the bed so she couldn’t leave, ‘cos she sounds like she fucking rocks.” Dom glanced at his watch. “We should move, man. Car’ll be outside by now.” He slid his chair back and stood.
Matt looked up vaguely at Dom’s looming figure. He’d zoned out at the image of Rigby tied to a bed that had popped into his head at Dom’s words. What a splendid idea. “Sorry, Dommers. What was that?”
“Thinking about something interesting there, Bells?” Dom asked with a knowing smile. “I said we have to go. So come on.”
“Oh. Okay,” Matt replied, jumping hastily to his feet. “But I’ve to get my stuff first.”
“Danny’s already collected it,” Dom assured. “And Tom’s checked us out. Or at least he claimed he would. Whether it actually happened remains to be seen. Just gotta drop your keycard in the box on the way out.” Grabbing the bag on the floor by his seat, he swung it on to his back and nodded towards the exit. “You ready?”
Slipping his wallet back in his pocket, Matt jerked his head in agreement and followed Dom out of the restaurant and across to the reception desk. Glancing back over his shoulder, Dom teasingly asked, “You going to tell me what you did to Eleanor’s arse to leave those bruises, Bells?”
Smirking wickedly, Matt waved a dismissive hand. “No, I am not. But I will show you what she did to my arse if you’re really lucky. Just not here.” He darted past Dom, dropped his key in the slot and made towards the hotel entrance with a cackle.
“That won’t be necessary,” Dom called after Matt, hurrying to catch him up.
“What won’t be necessary?” Chris asked as he joined Dom at the door, smiling in greeting.
“Oh, Matt here was offering to share the evidence of-”
“Of what a loser Dom is,” Matt butted in before he could finish. “I have extensive photographic proof.” He turned back to face them and patted Chris on the shoulder. “Morning, man. Good night?”
Laughing at Dom’s scowl, Chris replied, “Yeah, nice one. But something suggests you had a better one. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Honestly? A great many things. But mainly ‘cos you really don’t want to know them.” Looking back towards the street, Matt spotted Tom waving from beside a waiting car. “The Kirk’s here, anyway. Let’s roll,” he told the others before shuffling off.
Settling himself in the back seat, Matt looked up after buckling his seatbelt to see Dom and Chris staring at him, with Tom gazing in confusion between the three of them. “What?” Matt demanded, self-consciously raising a hand to cover his mouth. “Have I got pancake in my teeth or something?”
Chris shook his head in answer. “No. But did you just call Tom ‘The Kirk’?!”
“Oh! Yeah. Someone told me that’s what the fans call him. Thought it was funny, is all,” Matt explained with a shrug.
Dom eyed him shrewdly. “Someone told you? Which ‘someone’ would this be, Bells?”
“Never mind that,” Tom interjected. “Do they really call me ‘The Kirk’?” He eagerly inquired of Matt, who nodded in confirmation. “That is so cool. Makes me sound like even more of a stone-cold cyborg killing machine than KirkBot.”
“With impeccable manners and a camera instead of a gun, yes,” Matt giggled. He leaned towards Tom as if about to impart a great secret. “Did you know you have your own appreciation group on Facebook?”
Tom’s look of wonder-tinged surprise at this news had them all chuckling.
“Laugh it up, twats,” Tom said with dignity. “A little appreciation from you lot wouldn’t go amiss. Anyway, this is ace. Ooh, get me to a computer. I want to see, I want to see!”
As he fell into a debate with Chris as to how many members the group would have, Chris thinking ten, Tom arguing for at least three hundred as he was so fantastic, Dom caught Matt’s eye and silently mouthed, “Rigby?”
He twitched in acknowledgment and Dom smirked. Huffing, Matt averted his eyes, feigning fascination with the cityscape sliding past the window. He really did not understand what was going on with him today. Eleanor was just a shag. Quite a memorable one, what with the biting and the constant abuse, but it was still just sex. She’d slip back into anonymous fandom and he’d move on to the next conquest.
So why did he keep remembering things about her he’d only noticed in passing the night before? The solitary dimple in her left cheek when she smiled. The naughty glint in her eye as she teased him. Her soft, pillowy lips and the provocative words that escaped so easily from them. The graceful arch of her back as she capitulated to him and laid herself over that table. The look of agonised fulfillment on her face as she came…
Matt was assaulted by a devastating succession of vivid, snapshot images of their encounter that had him gripping his thigh with painful force to calm down. This never happened. He rarely recalled the women he slept with while on tour in any great detail, individuals merging into a hazy blur of willing flesh soundtracked by lust-tainted moans. Swallowing, Matt rubbed his hands together in a soothing manner. This was not the case with Rigby. Everything remembered with crystal clarity that he doubted would fade any time soon. Her pleading whisper of, “Please” echoed tantalisingly in his ears and he groaned inaudibly. For fuck’s sake, Dom was right! He really should have tied her up so she couldn’t leave.
Looking away from the window and back to the others, he noticed Dom watching him knowingly. Discreetly giving him the finger, Matt spoke up before he could stop himself, halting Tom and Chris’ barbed exchange. “D’you think we could play ‘The Groove’ tonight?”
A stunned silence and three sets of raised eyebrows were the initial response to this, then Chris tentatively addressed Matt, “’The Groove’, Bells? We haven’t played that in years.”
“Exactly. But we keep getting asked for it. You lot must’ve seen the banners. We should ‘give the people what they want’.” This bought a secretive smile to Matt’s face that had Tom and Chris exchanging perplexed looks. “Besides, it’s a killer song to play live and it’s only short. We could add it to the encore without taking anything out of the original setlist. Well?”
Dom lazed easily in the seat across from him, and his tone was infuriatingly casual as he inquired of Matt, “Any particular reason you’ve decided now is the time to ‘give the people what they want’, Bells?”
“No,” Matt answered shortly, irked at Dom’s superior air. “I feel like it, is all. We in agreement, then? I know it’s been a while, but we’ll run through it a few times in sound check and we’ll be rockin’.”
“Sure, mate,” Chris agreed. “Whatever you want. Actually, it’ll be fun to play it again. And the fan response should be suitably ecstatic.”
“Cheers, Chris,” Matt chirped. He shot Dom the laser stare. “Any objections from the cheap seats?”
“Far be it from me to deny such a reasonable request,” Dom drawled carelessly. “‘The Groove’ it is.” As Chris and Tom fell back to their friendly bickering, he quietly continued so only Matt could hear, “Eleanor asked for it, didn’t she?”
“So what if she did?” Matt hissed back. “She’s on the messageboard, so news’ll get back to her. Thought she’d appreciate the gesture. Now leave it alone, Howard.”