Surprise

[thekeyholder91]

Title: Surprise (one-off)
Author:thekeyholder (Brigi)
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG-13
Beta/Support: The lovely millionstar ! Thank you! <3
Summary: AU. One evening, Matt is kidnaped by a mysterious stranger for no apparent reason. But Matt is determined to escape.
Feedback: would be lovely if you have some time! <3
Warnings: A bit of violence.
Disclaimers: As you probably know, I don’t own Muse, but original aspects belong to me. So don't steal, please!
Author's note: This is my entry for the July fanfic challenge - I underlined the lyrics I used. I had the idea sitting in my notebook for over a year, so I thought it was time to finally write it. Enjoy! :D

Surprise

It was a warm June evening, yet Matt Bellamy shivered as he walked slowly towards his house. He loosened his tie, tempted to get rid of it right there in the street. He’d never liked ties, but his office job demanded it.

He finally glanced his house and sighed with relief, his steps quickening at the thought of a warm bath. He had a bad feeling and neither the empty street, nor the unusual darkness helped him. It was too late now to regret his decision of stopping at a confectionery where he bought a slice of chocolate cake.

“Damn the cake,” he muttered to himself, but calmed as he arrived in front of the door and looked around circumspectly.

Making sure that there was nothing lurking in the bushes, Matt took out the keys from his trousers pocket and cursed that he could never find the keyhole.

“Stop right there and put your hands slowly on the door,” a voice as hard as steel commanded.

Matthew clenched his fist together with the keys and did as he was told. He forgot even to breathe, he was so shocked. ‘My instinct was right, I should have run.’ He felt nauseated by the multitude of thoughts whirling in his head. What should he do?

The stranger started searching him for any weapons.

“Take your filthy hands off me, I don’t have any guns,” Matthew hissed angrily.

“But I do,” the stranger answered calmly and pressed something hard against his victim’s back, “and I’m not afraid to use it. Now, I’m going to put on you two sexy rings and you’ll come with me.”

‘You must do something, Matthew.’

At the metallic sound of the handcuffs, Matt turned around with a sudden movement. He saw the flash of surprise in his aggressor’s eyes and with all the power he could muster, he reached out with his right hand towards the masked face and cut it with his key.

The aggressor cried out, but didn’t stop; he was irate because of the gesture. He slapped Matt’s face forcefully, took away the keys and shoved him against the door. Despite the pain and fear, Matthew still commented: “Thanks for trying to fix my ugly nose, but I'm used to it by now.”

Handcuffs closed around his wrists and cold fingers caressed the right side of his face as the stranger whispered in Matthew’s ear: “Still talking back, Bellamy? I admit, you’re a fierce one.”

‘He knows my name? This is not a random attack.’

“Who are you? What do you want?” Matthew asked suspiciously, hoping that one of his neighbours heard the strange noises.

“Shhh, not now,” the aggressor whispered in his ear, the gentle breath, opposed to the harsh words, tickling Matthew’s ear. “Come to the car. No screaming, no tricks or you get a bullet in your arse.”

For good measure, the aggressor pressed the gun very hard against the young man’s back and Matthew felt terrified to the point that his whole life flashed before his eyes. The cold fingers now enclosed around his left wrist and the stranger quickly led him to a black Mercedes parked on the opposite side of the road.

Matthew was rudely thrown in the back seat of the car, but he actually thought before talking this time. It occurred to him that this man could be a kidnaper who wants to sell his organs or a human trafficker. He should have been much more careful. It also crossed his mind that he should gather as much information about his kidnapper as he could – who knows, maybe he’d be able to free himself somehow and call the police. He’d have to give a description of his aggressor, wouldn’t he?

The kidnapper opened the door with his left hand and after he got in, he fixed the mirror with his left hand.

‘Okay, he’s a leftie. Very useful information.’

“May I ask where are you taking me?” Matthew made a polite tempt.

“You may, but I can’t answer that question,” the kidnapper answered as he started the engine.

Matthew huffed. He figured that if he kept talking, he’d distract the kidnapper and maybe he’d be able to get off the stupid, tight handcuffs. The guy seemed very concentrated on the road, so if he had a bit of luck…

“Look, I don’t know what you want, but I have some savings. Not much, but it’s more than nothing.”

“I don’t want your money,” came the short answer.

Matthew sighed: “Well, if you want to gouge information about the company out of me, then you found the wrong man. I’m not involved in any big secret or suspicious affair or anything.”

“Not interested,” the kidnapper sounded bored and slightly irritated.

A couple of minutes later they stopped at the first red light. Matthew watched intently as the kidnapper finally took his eyes off the road. He touched lightly where the black cap was torn by the key with which Matthew attacked him. The driver hissed and when he drew back his fingers, Matt noticed with terror that their tips were covered in blood. Not too much, but enough to upset the man.

He swallowed uneasily and looked up. The driver was staring at him in the mirror. For a second, Matthew thought he saw a sparkle of amusement, but then the greenish eyes narrowed and he had to look away. He realised how difficult it is to determine someone’s feelings when you can only see their eyes. But he must have been mistaken; there was no way the aggressor found the wound funny.

The driver reached out to the glove compartment and took out a pack of tissues. To Matt’s greatest surprise, he took off the black mask covering his face, threw it on the seat beside him and wiped away some blood from his left cheek. Luckily, it didn’t look too bad, Matt assured himself. Then, as if woken from a dream, he quickly scanned the uncovered face.

‘Blond, around thirty, no facial hair, big greenish eyes. No particular marks. Well, except that one I made on his left cheek.’

Green lights flashed and the black Mercedes set off with a screech. Matt was taken aback by the sudden start and his back hit the seat. He looked in the mirror and saw the kidnapper wipe clean his face. The blonde glanced at him as he threw the blood-stained tissue on the passenger seat and said accusingly: “You like what you’ve done to me, Bellamy? You wild cat.”

Matthew shrugged: “You attacked me; I justified my reasons with your blood.”

“You’re quite a poet, but you should zip it for the rest of the trip, okay? It’s not far now,” the aggressor declared.

“What’s not far?” Matthew asked curiously.

Two blonde eyebrows rose in the mirror. “Five minutes, Bellamy.”

The driver then took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

“Would you at least open the window on your side?” Matt asked with annoyance.

“No.”

“Come on, do you want me to have an asthma attack?” Matt lied. “I bet you don’t even know what you have to do and I don’t have here my inhalator. I could die any moment. Do you want to kill me?! My poor mother won’t bear the loss of her only child…”

Another lie; Matthew had an older brother, but it sounded more convincing this way. He seemed to have been successful – the driver, without saying anything, pressed a button and lowered the window, but not too much. However, a few moments later he said: “I know you lied, Bellamy, but I just couldn’t listen to your wailing anymore.”

They stopped at another red light and the kidnapper continued smoking. Matt pressed his forehead to the cold glass, sad that he ran out of ideas. He prepared himself for a grim and dark future and sighed with resignation. The roads were quite empty, but then a white car stopped on their left and Matthew’s eyes widened with surprise. It was a police car! He told himself he must be brave and use this chance to be heard. It was probably the last one.

The driver was looking in the other direction, so Matt leaned forward, as close to the window as he could, and started shouting:

“Hey! Hey! Help me, I was kidnap-“

The window was closed, but at least the policemen heard something: they were looking around.

“I should have gagged you.”

Matt didn’t care; the policemen finally looked at them and he started shouting again even though he knew they couldn’t hear him. They seemed to have understood his screams, but then they looked at the driver and started laughing hysterically.

“What the hell…” Matthew breathed with indignation.

The lights were green again and the poor victim watched helplessly as the policemen waved friendlily to his kidnapper and showed him thumbs up. Matthew leaned back against the seat and fell silent. He didn’t even notice that they’d stopped, only when the driver opened the door and dragged him out from the car. They started walking towards a dark building.

“You’re suspiciously quiet,” the blond said. “I feared you have a paper clip somewhere in your pocket and somehow unlock the handcuffs.”

When Matthew didn’t say anything, his kidnapper bumped his shoulder.

“Come on, don’t give me the silent treatment.”

“What should I say? What could I even say? The policemen are corrupt and watch your sick games with delectation,” Matthew said desolately.

The blond laughed as they reached the building and he opened the door. It was pitch dark inside, so Matthew had to rely on his other senses. He heard hushed voices and he smelled something delicious, like roasted sausages. Everything happened in the blink of an eye: his kidnaper freed him from the handcuffs and Matthew could have sworn that he squeezed his fingers gently. Then somebody turned on the lights and a cheery crowd screamed loudly:

“SURPRISE!”

Matthew opened his mouth wonder-stricken as his friends started clapping and shouting.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATT!”

He then felt tears gathering in his eyes, but he shook his head and laughed heartily. The owners of the two loudest voices in the crowd came forward and hugged Matthew tightly.

“Chris! Tom! When did you manage to organise all this?” Matthew asked.

His friends grinned proudly. “It was no big deal; few phone calls and we were done.”

Somebody put on music and some guests started dancing while Matthew accepted all the good wishes and presents. The last ones were his mother and brother, Paul.

“I’m so happy you two came!” Matt said as his mother kissed his cheek and arranged his hair.

“Mum, everybody’s watching,” the birthday boy whispered, embarrassed.

“But Matthew dear, have you seen your uncombed hair?” his mother asked incredulously.

“Mrs. Bellamy, we’re to be blamed for Matthew’s less than perfect hair,” Chris and his wife, Kelly, said grinning.

“Oh, yes, the arranged kidnapping, right?” Matthew’s mother said as she took off her son’s tie. “There, now you look ready to party.”

“Kelly, you should have just asked Chris to lie that we’re going for a drink and I would have gone,” Matthew said laughing.

“What’s the fun in that?” Kelly asked as she filled her plate with delicious appetizers.

“Yeah, we heard your trip here was…”

“…adventurous,” Tom completed Chris’ sentence, both trying to stifle their laughter.

Matthew blushed instantly. “Good God, news travel fast!”

“I hope we don’t have to pay extra for the damages Matt’s made,” Tom quipped, he and Chris laughing heartily again.

A door opened, not far from them, and Matthew watched as his mysterious “kidnapper” exited the bathroom and was about to slip away from the party. He bit his lip and quickly made his way to the blond.

“Hey, stop! Where do you think you’re going? Come and have a drink!” Matthew said, though he felt awkward that he didn’t know the guy’s name.

“Ah! Making friends with your kidnapper?” Kelly asked playfully.

“I would if somebody presented him,” Matthew said, looking suggestively at his co-worker.

“Oh, sorry! I thought Chris has already done it. Matthew, meet Dominic Howard, the owner of Funtastic Parties.”

The two young men looked at each other and smiled as they shook hands.

“Nice to meet you properly, now that I don’t have to fear for my life,” Matthew quipped.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Kelly said and winked at Matt.

“So…” Dom said, turning his head back at his new acquaintance.

“I’m so sorry, Dominic! I’m so sorry for that wound, but you were so convincing, I really thought you’re a human trafficker or something!”

Dominic laughed: “Wound? It’s just a scratch. I washed it in the bathroom, no worries.”

Matthew took two glasses of champagne, offered one to Dominic and said:

“I’m still so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You were the funniest customer I’ve ever had. The others always just beg or offer me money, but you actually fought and looked for every opportunity to escape.  I admire that. In a real situation you’d have much more chances of being saved,” Dominic said and looked intensely at Matthew.

“T-Thanks, I guess,” Matthew mumbled.

“Cheer up!” Dominic said as he put his hand around Matt’s shoulder. “If you give me a slice of cake, everything will be forgotten.”

* * * * *

Matthew and Dominic talked during almost the entire evening. Matthew found it amazing how different Dominic was from the role he played as the kidnapper: he was gentle, charming and easy to talk to. The blond told him that the party service firm was his sister’s idea – she owned a cakeshop and hoped to unite the two businesses. It proved to be a brilliant idea. He also told Matthew about the email Chris and Tom sent him a few weeks ago. Apparently, Tom found the ad in a magazine, so he and Chris decided Matthew deserved a memorable party for his thirtieth birthday.

“I’m really glad they chose your firm,” Matthew said, quickly drinking from his glass, pretending to have just made a casual remark.

“Yeah, me too,” Dominic nodded. “Well, err…I think I should go now. I don’t usually stay this much at parties.”

“Don’t go yet! I’ve promised you a slice of cake, haven’t I? Besides, I’m not the ‘usual’ client, remember?” Matthew tried to persuade the blond, fluttering his eyelashes in an alcohol-induced way.

Dominic agreed to stay and as if on cue, Matt’s mother brought the cake in, prompting everybody to start singing ‘Happy birthday’. Matthew stood awkwardly, Dominic amused by the contrast between this shy Matt and the fierce one who struggled to get out of the handcuffs. He withdrew in a corner, watching as Matt cut slices for every guest and finally two bigger slices. He took the plastic plates and walked in Dom’s direction.

“Why do I deserve such a big slice?” the blond asked, tasting his sister’s masterpiece.

“Just because,” came Matt’s short answer, too busy enjoying the best cake he’d ever had. “Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you. Do those policemen know you? That’s why they were laughing at me?”

“Ha, yes. The driver was actually my ‘victim’ a year ago. They all know me, just in case somebody calls them. You know, busybody neighbours and such,” Dominic smiled and Matt mirrored him.

Afterwards guests started leaving, so Matthew had to say goodbye to them. As he showed a friend to the door, Dominic too appeared beside him.

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Matthew, but I must go now. My dog, Hendrix, must be starving.”

“Aw, okay. Thank you and your sister, it was a great party. I’m really happy I met you,” Matthew said and shook Dom’s hand.

“Here’s my card, mate. You know…if you want to throw a party or something. Just…give me a call,” Dominic sputtered and exited the building before saying something silly.

Matthew stared at the card and gulped. Then he looked up and saw his mother looking at him and he knew that she was thinking about the same thing as he was. He ran out and found Dom at his car.

“Hey, Dom.” He panted, the blond surprised to see him there. “Here’s my card too.”

Dominic beamed, his fingers holding tightly the piece of paper.

“Also, you forgot something at the party.”

“What?” Dominic asked, confused.

“This,” Matthew said softly as he placed a tender kiss on the wound he caused on Dominic’s left cheek, the press of his lips speaking more than any word he could have articulated with them.