#the juice is a soft dom gale

[ohwolfling]

the undone and the divine

this was originally an ask prompt and now it is 11 pages long. please enjoy soft dom Gale, light bondage, mage hand, invented spells, and face sitting. :)

His eyes darken with an increasingly familiar ache. It makes her want him more. She knows it won’t make him stray from this path of driving her wild. No matter how badly he wants her, he wants to see her out of her mind for him more. The conjured hand slides a finger on either side of her, spreading her open, and Gale licks his lips but makes no move towards her. "You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are,” Tav laughs, half desperate, half thrilled. “Oh, there’s so much I still mean to do to you.”

this fic expanded as I stated it would be if I made rent last month!thank you to everyone who was kind enough to give to my ko-fi, twitch, or directly through Venmo (MirandaBrave). I'm leaving this open for ANOTHER CHAPTER if I we crowd fund a delicate $200 betwixt those places between now and next Saturday-ish. I will smut for my supper. Anyone who gives $25+ on Venmo/Ko-fi can use the notes to recommend something for that chapter or perhaps a future smut (I love to be a heaux but I gotta serve the story and vibe appropriately, you feel?)

[sowk-fic-archive]

SOWK ch.12/35

Summary:

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction...

Chapter 12 : cernes

It was almost midnight when Matthew decided that he couldn’t sleep. Sitting bolt upright in his bed, he ran a hand through his hair and swung his legs over the side, bare feet hitting carpet and toes automatically scrunching up in the soft pile fabric. He walked slowly over to his bedroom door, quietly turning the handle and stepping out onto the landing. Shivering, he closed the door behind him and made his way slowly downstairs, clinging to the edge of the grand staircase for fear of making a noise. He didn’t want to wake his father. He didn’t have a conscious idea of where he was going, but his feet were taking him somewhere and that somewhere, he almost surprised himself to know, was to Dominic’s office. He carefully opened the door, wincing at the creak, and slipped inside, hugging himself in the cool air. He slipped past the waste paper basket, past the battered old piano, behind the desk, and sat himself down in Dominic’s chair. The surface of the desk had been stained by the ink spillage earlier in the day. When his eyes blurred, Matthew found the shape to look somewhat like Adora, but perhaps that was only because he was feeling guilty. Their argument had been ringing around in his head ever since it had happened - he had needed someone, anyone, to tell him that he wasn’t completely hated, and that person just so happened to be Dominic. Then he had seen the picture. The sketch that had been sitting on Dominic’s desk, that the glouglou had gone out of his way to protect from being ruined by the ink. And when Matthew had asked if Dominic had drawn it himself, he’d been laughed at. Matthew’s cheeks flamed at the thought. How stupid he had been, to think that Dominic would draw pictures of him. Just thinking about it now made his skin crawl. Dominic had absolutely no reason to be fawning over him. He was employed by the Bellamy family, after all. They weren’t even friends. Matthew was kidding himself in thinking that Dominic had some kind of obsession with him that qualified him to be wasting his time drawing pictures. It was strange, even as he sat in the glouglou’s office and inhaled the scent of cigarette smoke and Dominic, that he was even troubled by such thoughts. Looking good for Dominic had suddenly shifted to a main priority. He wanted to impress him, show him that he wasn’t just a pretty face. He wanted to make Dominic realise that he was different. But he wasn’t different. He remembered the first time he’d properly seen Dominic, when they were standing in the dining room, under Agostino’s scrutiny. “Can’t we just have him hanged, father?” he had asked. Closing his eyes, he rubbed a hand over his face and let out a sigh. He was so afraid: afraid for the future, afraid for Adora, afraid for his mother... afraid of his father. Agostino was a force, a terrifying gale wind that held him back from the things he wanted to do. His father’s wishes were his wishes. But at the same time, his own failures were his father’s embarrassment. He knew how his father took to public ridicule, and this silly attraction he had developed to Dominic - to a glouglou, of all things - had to stop right now, before someone worked it out. The sound of voices drifted past the room. He dropped his feet to the floor again, looking up with a frown. Agostino Bellamy had walked past the room only seconds ago, talking to someone. With the unquenchable affliction that is curiosity, Matthew poked his head out of the office to see a Voix limping hurriedly after his father. They disappeared around a corner and, without thinking, Matthew began to follow them. They arrived eventually at his father’s study. Holding his breath, he hid behind a large potted plant until the door had slammed closed, peeking through the leaves before creeping over to the door. He stood perfectly still, listening hard. “...and then a load of them bloody cassés jumped me, boss!” Matthew recognised the voice of Lysander, the man he had heard many days before discussing the death of Dominic’s father. “Dunno where they all-- Ah, bloody ’ell, man! What’s that you’re puttin’ on me? Stings like a slap on the arse!” “It’s antiseptic, you fool, and stop squirming around,” Agostino’s voice replied sharply. “Who did you say started it off?” “I... don’t remember, boss,” Lysander said, and even without looking at the man, Matthew could tell that he was lying. “Liar,” Agostino hissed. “You know who it was. Tell me the truth.” Lysander was quiet for a very long time before he spoke. “Dom’nic 815231184,” he said. Matthew paled. Agostino’s voice was sharp. “Are you sure?” he asked coldly. “‘Course I bloody well am,” Lysander replied, apparently offended. “Are you done now? Only I’d like to get some sleep an’ all that.” “Yes. Go.” Agostino seemed distracted. There were a few fumbling sounds, and a groan as Lysander stood up. Matthew suckered himself to the wall by the door, holding his breath as the door swung open and the younger Voix hobbled out. Though his major wounds had already begun to heal, his nose had clearly been broken and most of his skin and clothes were dotted with blood. He looked as if someone had pushed him into a crowd of starved lions. Hardly able to believe his eyes, Matthew waited until the door had slammed closed behind him before he darted towards the stairs. He didn’t know how long his father was going to be inside his office, but he knew that he did not want to be caught sneaking around late at night. Halfway up the stairs, however, he looked over his shoulder, chewing on his bottom lip. He was alone: his father wasn’t glaring angrily at him from the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing to be worried about. So why couldn’t he bring himself to go back to his room? Without really realising what he was doing, he had turned and made his quiet way downstairs again, feet cold against the floor. Eventually he arrived at Dominic’s office once again, pushing the door open and looking around. He slipped past the desk and settled himself in Dominic’s chair, hugging his legs to his chest and closing his eyes.

The last thing Dominic expected to see when he arrived for work in the morning was Matthew asleep in his chair. He moved quietly, in retrospect to his usual loud movements, placing his bag softly on the floor. His eyes began to wander over the pale skin of Matthew’s bare torso, gluing themselves to the sight one of his bony clavicles standing out clearly against his chest. His head rested against his knees, toes scrunched up against the edge of the chair. The awkward position of his body gave Dominic a wonderful view of his spine, the bones just catching the light. Dom moved closer, placing a warm hand against the Voix’s cold skin. “Matthew,” he whispered, giving the blond a gentle shake. “Matthew, wake up.” “Wha’?” Matthew’s eyes opened drowsily. He opened his mouth in a long yawn, stretching his arms above his head. He blinked several times, looking around the room with a confused frown, before his eyes finally landed on Dominic. “Mon Dieu!” he said loudly, jumping up from the seat and hugging himself as if he was embarrassed to be seen. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t... I couldn’t sleep and your--” “It’s okay,” Dom said, his hand reaching out to touch Matthew’s shoulder again. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t recommend sleeping in a chair but...” “I’m so sorry,” Matthew whispered, stepping away and letting Dominic’s hand fall back to his side. “I should go. I’m sorry.” He squeezed past Dom, rushing to the door and disappearing, leaving the glouglou to stare after him with the soft feel of his skin still stinging his fingertips. Unknown to him, Matthew was pressed up against the wall just outside his office, the electric shock that was Dominic’s touch still rattling through his veins. Something was about to snap. And it appeared that it was Agostino’s temper. “Matthew! What are you doing down here dressed like that?” he shouted, the younger man jumping in surprise. “I, um, woke up with a craving for orange juice,” Matthew replied uneasily, looking anywhere but his father’s eyes. “I was really thirsty so I didn’t bother getting dressed.” “There are glouglous about, Matthew. It’s not appropriate for you to look any less than your best.” Matthew winced as he thought about the one glouglou who’d already seen him like this, the one Agostino would least want Matthew to seem normal to. “I didn’t realise it was so important, father,” Matthew mumbled as he rubbed one of the corners of his eyes. “You don’t realise many things, do you?” Agostino’s accusatory tone made Matthew finally meet his eyes. “You don’t realise how important this audition is, how much you need to succeed to live the life you want. Do you think it’s all going to be served to you on a silver platter?” Matthew’s numb shaking of his head wasn’t acknowledged. “Get your act together, Matthew.” Agostino quickly turned on his heel and vanished down a corridor, his chastising of another glouglou echoing along the white walls. Matthew inhaled deeply, the backs of his eyes stinging, and he ran upstairs.

Dominic hadn’t gone into work early that morning to be greeted by Matthew’s sleeping figure, although he certainly hadn’t found it unpleasant. Once the Voix had hastily left the room, Dominic had quickly begun the process of ensuring that the song was perfect. The previous day, Matthew had mentioned something about Le Monde wanting to know what the song was called, even though it still lacked a title.

Every now and then, Dominic would look up through window to see the sun had jumped a great distance in the sky, he was that invested in his work. He ate his lunch at his desk as he continued to make everything just right. Laying his pen down and stroking his chin, Dominic glanced up at the wall, evening sunlight bathing the office. Le Monde would call in less than fifteen minutes for the title and Matthew was nowhere to be found. Dominic had named the song in his head long ago, but knowing Matthew’s temper and tendency to change his mind, he’d kept it all to himself. Sighing, Dominic heaved himself from his chair and towards the door of the office, to find the hallway empty. He pouted to himself just as a beautiful blonde woman rounded the corner. “Mrs Bellamy!” Dominic said, the woman in question turning her head with a curious smile on her face. “If I may, ma’am, could I possibly ask you where Master Bellamy is?” Calliope bit her bottom lip slightly, looking up towards the ceiling. “I haven’t seen him today, really...” she mumbled to herself, a quiet melody of words. “Oh, yes! I think I might’ve just passed him, because I heard a door slam upstairs and my husband is down here...” she finally met Dominic’s eyes again with warmth in her features. “He’s upstairs, should I get a maid to fetch him for you?” “If I may, ma’am, it’s very important because we’re titling the song and Le Monde--” “Oh, of course!” Calliope smiled. “I admit, it was a bit unfair for him to leave even someone like you hanging like that. You can go up,” she said sweetly, but her demeanour soon shifted. “But if I see you touch or even breathe near any of our possessions, you’ll be in front of Agostino quicker than anything. Understand?” “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am,” Dominic said, hurrying upstairs. Matthew had once mentioned how his bedroom overlooked the rest of the Voix suburb compared to the sea, so at the top of the stairs Dominic hooked a right and headed towards the only bedroom that was on that side of the mansion. He stood for what felt like hours outside the door, debating whether or not he was actually going to go inside. It had seemed like the only option when he was downstairs and desperate, but now, with the closed door staring him down, it seemed only daunting and a little impertinent. Sucking in a deep breath, he raised a hand to knock on the door, but he stopped short, rolling his eyes. How many times had Matthew barged into his office? More times than he could count. Ignoring the fact that he was barging into a Voix’s private rooms, he did just as he was not supposed to do and wrenched the door open. “Matthew, we need to talk about the--” He stopped dead, mouth hanging open as he took in the scene. Matthew was curled up on an unmade bed (slightly more clothed this time, albeit shabbily for a Voix), eyes rimmed with red and tears coursing down his pale cheeks. He jumped as Dominic barged into the room, sitting up sharply and angrily wiping away the tears with his sleeve. “What are you doing in here?” he shrieked. “I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t realise... I should go,” Dom said, shocked, turning to leave. He had his hand on the door handle when Matthew called out quietly, making him stop dead. “Stay,” the Voix said softly.