Work Text:
Russel knocks on 2D’s bedroom door, no one has seen him in a few days. After what happened he’d been concerned about his mental state. They needed to find a new guitarist, they needed to finish the record but he’s more concerned right now if the boy was still alive on the other side of the door.
He waits a few minutes before knocking again, waiting a few more minutes before opening the door a crack, peaking into the room. He sighs with relief to see 2D sitting up in his bed with headphones on, his eyes closed. Russell round his mattress, hoping to get his attention without scaring him half to death.
2D feels a presence in the room, hoping it wasn’t Murdoc. He isn’t sure why Murdoc seems hell bent on chipping away at any scant trace of happiness he had in his current, miserable existence but it was driving him a little mad. He opens his eyes to see Russ sitting down on one of the piano benches across the room. He pulls his headphones down, unsure what the man was doing in here. They hadn’t spent too much time talking yet, most of their conversations have been about the work.
“How’re you doing, D?” Russel nods at him, seeing the boy looking gaunt and restless is concerning, but he isn’t sure what 2D needs to hear right now.
2D shrugs, lighting another cigarette. He’d been chain smoking for days now, finding it and his meditations to be the only things that calm his nerves. The pills he’s been taking like candy have put him into baseless stupors where he either zones out on video games or movies, unable to accomplish much else. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry that all of this is happening to you, my guy. Promise me you’ll eat something today? Go outside for a little sunlight? Anything man, I hate seeing you like this.” 2D nods in appreciation, it was nice to hear someone cared.
“I’ll try my best,” he says, before movement in the hallway caught his eye. Russell stands up to see what 2D is looking at, seeing Murdoc standing in the doorway.
“No one thought to tell me we were having a band meeting?” he says with a smirk, knowing full well this had nothing to do with the band.
“What do you want, man? Haven’t you done enough to the poor guy this week? Leave him alone.” Russel still found it hard to believe he stayed here amongst all of this turmoil, but he really wanted to see what Gorillaz could do. It seems worth it enough to stick around. “Want me to get rid of him?” Russel asks, looking back at 2D. The blue haired man shakes his head, too curious to what Murdoc wanted to send him away. Against his better judgement, Russell leaves the two men, his head reeling over how he got to this point in life.
“Can I come in?” Murdoc asks, not waiting for 2D’s answer. Eyeing the bruising around his nose, it was a little satisfying to know he at least got decked in the face over what he did.
“What do you want, Murdoc?” He shrugs, looking at the different keyboards hanging on the walls.
“Just came by to check in, see how you’re doing and all.” 2D crosses his arms in defense.
“Just peachy,” he replies, hoping Murdoc will just go away now.
“You know how they always say “I hope she was worth it’? She wasn’t, mate. Not worth getting another bloody blow to my nose over.”
“Seems about fair to me,” 2D mutters causing Murdoc to chuckle. He should know better than to expect Murdoc will apologize, he’s still waiting for him to show an ounce of remorse for the accidents. “You’re the worse thing that’s ever happened to me,” 2D says, sitting down on his bed feeling sorry for himself for the fifth day in a row. For almost two years now, all Murdoc has done is take. He’s taken his eyes, he took a year of his life and now he’s fucked his girlfriend.
Murdoc saunters over to 2D, the musty smell of his Winnebago stuck in his clothes makes 2D want to gag. “Listen, Tusspot,” his breath reeks of liquor and stale cigarettes, “I’m about to make you more rich and famous that you ever could have been without me because I knocked that slag out of here. You should be thanking me for all I’ve done for you.” 2D sneers, turning to look the older man in his eyes. Murdoc is high as a kite and drunk as fuck, 2D can’t remember the last time he saw Murdoc sober.
“We live in bloody squalor and we’re no closer to finishing a record than we were before I met you. Jog on,” he says, walking to the door and inviting him out. Murdoc teetering, his vision swimming as he sits on the bed, knowing that standing up right now isn’t an option. He flops back against the bed, causing 2D to groan in irritation. “Get off my bed, get out of here!” 2D shouts, startling himself with the amount of anger he’s feeling.
He storms over to the bed, kneeling down next to Murdoc to grab his shirt, trying in vain to yank the man from his bed. He’d barely eaten or slept in days and isn’t feeling his strongest, if he’d been in top form he could’ve moved Murdoc easily. 2D pushes against Murdoc, trying now to roll him off the bed and onto the floor, still unable to get him to budge. The situation causes Murdoc to giggle with a drunken hiccup.
“You’re so weak,” he giggles some more, so tickled at 2D’s inability to move him from the mattress.
“Sod off!” 2D says, sitting down with his arms crossed like a toddler, a big pout on his face. Murdoc swats at 2D’s arm, his head lulling from side to side.
“Come now, darling, don’t be so hard on yourself. We can’t all be in tiptop shape all the time. I mean, look at me!” 2D sighs, digging in his nightstand for a cigarette, taking a long drag. His nerves are shot to hell. Murdoc sniffs the air, before snatching the fag right out of 2D’s mouth.
He takes a long drag himself, blowing the smoke with vigor into the air. He loved watching the smoke dissipate under the glare of the lights. Having spent the last of his energy trying to remove Murdoc, 2D lays back on the bed, scooting away from the other man. He’d been thinking far too much about the hallway incident, about Murdoc telling him he was just his type, how good it felt hearing Murdoc be nice for a brief moment.
Murdoc reaches out to grab at 2D’s knee, causing him to flinch. “You know, I really can’t stop thinking about your cock. No wonder you’ve always had such an ego on you.” 2D grimaces, an ego? It felt like ages ago he’d felt like himself, like he used to before the accidents, let alone enough to have an ego. Murdoc travels his hand up 2D’s thigh, surprised that he lets it happen. “Can I see it again?”
2D swats Murdoc’s hand away, “You wish.” Murdoc sighs, he really did wish. 2D feels a haze befall his brain, one that has nothing to do with the pills he’s taken or the joint he smoked. It’s the same kind of shut off he felt while humping furiously at Murdoc’s fist.
His tongue falling numb in his mouth with the fear of the unknown, he blurts out, “You’ve seen mine, now you have to show me yours.” Murdoc’s eyes shoot open, turning to look at the blue haired giant to find a bold look in his eye. He hesitates even though his cock twitches in arousal, but he undoes his jeans as they hold their hazy gaze. 2D’s eyes flick down his body as Murdoc shoves his jeans down to his thighs, his cock springing up, hardening under 2D’s watch.
He starts a lazy, absentminded stroke, still staring at 2D. Fuck, he was beautiful. The more broken he got, the more beautiful he became to Murdoc. Fucking Paula was only about that to him, to see 2D sink lower, to drag him deeper into the depths along side him was the only way he could feel anything at all these days.
Swallowing his own dignity, feeling the sadness and frustration fall by the wayside as the lust clouds his already foggy brain, he straddles Murdoc. Taking a sharp inhale, Murdoc puts his hand by his side, curious what was going to happen next.
Murdoc has seen the look on 2D’s face before. He’s seen it in many of the woman he’s shagged over the years, the same empty stare of the comatose pretty boy laying on his Mum’s couch: total dissociation. “Touch my cock,” Murdoc murmurs, hoping he’d get a nice handjob out of this but 2D shakes his head before pressing his knee up against Murdoc’s balls. The sensation elicits a deep growl from Murdoc who scrapes his nails down 2D’s jeans.
2D leans into him a little harder, placing his hands on either side of Murdoc, pressing his thigh against his hard on, Murdoc tossing his head back in a sharp gasp. He starts rolling his hips in desperation, if 2D wasn’t going to touch him, he was going to resort to what he had to. 2D doesn’t move, which is making Murdoc feel even more desperate, those large black eyes just boring into him with no emotion or indication as to how he’s feeling or why this is happening.
He clutches at 2D’s bony hips, his chest starting to heave as he digs his nails into him, 2D applying more pressure against his throbbing cock. Murdoc’s tongue falls out in pants, an eagerness befalling him. He wants 2D to say something or do anything at all besides allow him to continue making a pathetic show of himself. “Say something, would you?” he breathes, not one for begging but he isn’t sure how much more he can take of just being stared at.
“I hate you,” 2D whispers, surprised at how meek his voice was in his throat. Murdoc nods, closing his eyes as a fresh wave of arousal floods his system, his cock leaking precum onto 2D’s jeans. “You’re pathetic and now your making me just as pathetic as you.” 2D leans onto his right hand, bringing his left hand to Murdoc’s throat.
The older man looks wild eyed for only a second, before tilting his head back so 2D could get a better grip. He squeezes in with his long fingers, pressing up against Murdoc’s throat, forcing his head back a little more before bearing down on his windpipe.
Murdoc bucks himself against 2D’s thigh harder, loving the friction against the fabric and relishing in the tunnel vision as he tries to suck in tiny sips of air with the back of his throat, loving the prolonged suspension of being in the sweet spot between lungs full of air and passing out.
He can feel himself teetering, tears springing to his eyes and slipping down his face, unable to help the smile of his face looking up at 2D snarling at him as his face gets redder and redder. Murdoc grips 2D’s wrist with both his hands, helping him press down a little harder as he humps and rubs on 2D’s bony leg, sweat forming along his hair line. 2D jerks his hand down a little harder, watching Murdoc gasp and choke.
2D wants him to feel pain, to feel even an ounce of the suffering he’s put him through since they met. Murdoc’s frantic rubs against his leg makes him feel even more powerful, finally able to put the older man in his place even if it’s temporary and fleeting. “I deserve it,” Murdoc croaks out, “Hurt me, Stu.” He manages, his voice coming out pinched and hurried.
2D bares down on his with all of his weight, pressing his leg harder against Murdoc’s throbbing cock, squeezing his fingers tighter around his throat. “I’m, I’m-“ Murdoc croaks just as an intense, hard orgasm rocks his body, his cum soaking a large stain onto 2D’s jeans. 2D sneers in satisfaction, his own arousal nonexistent. He waits a few more seconds for Murdoc to ride out that feeling, watching him start to fade.
Pulling his hand away and wiping his sweating palm on his pants, Murdoc takes huge gasping breaths of air, needing a cigarette more than ever before in his life. 2D feels his cheeks flush seeing the red marks his fingers left around Murdoc’s throat, knowing Russell is going to question those bruises tomorrow.
2D stands from his bed and open the door again, pointing to the hallway. “Get out of my room.” He says, staring straight ahead and not at Murdoc. Gathering what little strength he has left, Murdoc stands, wavering on his own two feet. He pulls his jeans up, snagging a cigarette from off of 2D’s dresser and lighting it before heading for the door.
He stops at 2D, looking up at the taller man who is purposely avoiding his gaze. He takes a long drag before exhaling his cloud of smoke toward 2D’s face. “Thanks for putting me in my place, Faceache. Haw haw,” he chuckles walking into the hallway. 2D clenches his fist as he watches him stagger away, slamming the door shut.