Chapter rating: R (blowjob)

Chapter 1

The front door of 2D's flat was quite literally kicked in one breezy day in late February. Murdoc stormed into the room and started hollering for the singer to 'get his scrawny arse out here.' The flat smelt of smoke and it was very obvious that 2D was living there by himself. "Sod boy, where are yew?"

After a second a blue head poked out of the bedroom, shirtless, eyes tired, and a fag hanging from his mouth. "Bloody 'ell, Muds. How'd you find me?" He took a drag and exhaled. Before he could react the bassist was on him, mouth smothering his own, hands running up his naked chest.

His head reeled, sending him back to nights in New York, going to the Apollo every evening, angry fights. But he found himself nearly gasping as Murdoc pulled away and spun into the sitting room. Shaking his head he took another drag and followed his friend.

The Satanist picked up the bag he'd brought and pulled out a tape player that was in shoddy shape. He dug around and pulled out a couple cassette tapes and shoved one in. A demo for a new song started playing from dusty speakers. 2D sat down on the couch next to him and listened.

It wasn't that bad, but there'd need to be some work—which is why Murdoc was there, he assumed. "There's going to be a third album, mate. I wanted to have you lay down some quick vocals, you know, just to get the feeling."

"Kong can't be safe." Another tape was shoved in.

"No, not at that place, it's up for sale anyway. Same site we bought the mess on." He leaned in and made a flippant hand gesture as if selling their old studio was no big deal. "Nah, I'm talkin' about a real record place. Maybe we could steal Damon's shtudio for the day. 'At's all you need, right? Just a day, keep things casual."

"Casual…" Murdoc popped in another tape but pulled it out hastily when he realized it was his sex tape. Though, when he thought about it 2D had probably already heard it online. "Where've you been all this time, mate?"

A third demo played, "Workin' on these. I also have a secret thing planned, see? But, you don't need to know about that." Back when they were working on their first record 2D would have protested and tried to beg it out of the bassist, but he'd learned a lot about him over the years. If Murdoc didn't want to tell him he wouldn't, plain and simple.

Stubbing out his fag, "Well do you have any lyrics?"

"Eh, yew know, a little bit here, a little bit there, all working stuff. But, but you can get it done. You always do."

2D smothered his face in his hands and sighed. "Muds, 'is is great an' all but you can't come walkin' in here after all the Apollo business and just expect fings to be 'appy and such."

"Aw come on, it's all gravy, man, all gravy." He slung an arm around 2D's shoulders and pulled him close. "Right?" There was an edge in that single word that made the singer realize he didn't really have a choice.

Softly, "Yeah, a course." 2D worried the fabric of his pants. "Can I have the lyrics you're finking about and tha tapes for 'em?"

"Perfect, 'D. I knew you'd see things my way." The singer made an uneasy noise as he leaned back against the couch and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. Murdoc only sniggered and handed him a grungy, water-stained notebook.

As 2D opened it up grains of sand fell out. He frowned. Part of him wanted to ask why there was sand in his notebook but he realized he probably didn't want to know. "Your handwriting hasn't gotten any betta." He stood up and went off to look for his reading glasses.

Murdoc stretched and kicked his boots up on the coffee table. "I'm going to be here for a few days, you know. Just sort of pissin' around."

From the other room, "Where are you stayin' at?"

There was a laugh. "I'm staying right here of course. Where else would I stay?"

2D returned, now wearing thick-rimmed black glasses. He sat back down and started skimming through the words. His mouth opened to tell Murdoc that his lyrics were rubbish when be ran across a bit for a song titled 'Broken.'

Dark eyes looked over the words. Chicken scratch barely reading, It's broken, our love, broken, broken. Distant stars turning black for it, I've seen the world inside my head. There's nothing you can say to him; he is an outer hull and the space has been broken. It's broken, our love, broken. It's broken, our love, broken.

He stopped, feeling his heart sink. Was this about him? His mouth almost started talking without him. "Is 'is—Well, Muds, you've got a start, yeah. But 'ow long do I have to mess wiff these before yew want me recordin'?"

"I said a few days, dullard." Unkempt fingernails scratched his olive chin.

"Yeah, but how long's a 'few days'?"

There was a pause. "Saturday night."

"It's bloody Thursday!"

"Good, you know your days of the week. Best get writin', 'ey Stu Pot?"

He sunk into the couch. "I hate when you do this. I hate when you do this!"

"Oh, shut up, you'll do it. Just get on with it, don't dick around."

Running a hand over his face, "Unless it's with you 'm sure. Right?"

Murdoc sniggered. "Naturally." He pulled out some rolling paper and tobacco.

"Make me one of those." 2D's voice was flat, his exhaustion showing through. Long legs found the ground as he walked into the hallway to grab a keyboard. "Do you 'ave any sort of melody set out for the demos?"

"Ahh, not written, really, but I have an idea." The bassist's gravely voice started humming. 2D smiled, just like the 'specific instructions' he had laid for Demon Days.

He grabbed up the cassette player and started looking for tapes. Slowly he slipped into a more musical frame of mind, eyes closing while he listened. Long fingers started moving along the plastic keys. Murdoc watched him; the intense interest in his eyes betraying his aloof expression.

The first song he started to pick up was 'Electric Shock.' It actually took him a good amount of time for him to really feel alright about the song. When he decided to be finished with the demo it was 20:46.

Murdoc's stomach growled loudly. 2D's eyes focused and looked apologetically at him. "Should we get some food?"

The bassist stood up abruptly. "'Bout time. Let's call in some Chinese." He waltzed into the kitchen and started rummaging through the drawers.

"The back a the drawer next to the sink. Left side." Murdoc looked around and found where he was talking about. His fingers found the cheap paper the Chinese takeout menu was written on.

"You still eat the same thing?"

2D smiled, "Yeah." He set the keyboard down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Pushing away the clutter that seemed to have been drawn to him when he was writing, he laid back and put his arms along the back of the sofa.

After Murdoc called in the food he came back and flipped on the telly. He flitted through the channels, pausing on some and quickly turning away from others. It had been months since he had watched English television—hell, television at all. He made a mental note to pick up more films before he returned to the makings of Plastic Beach. "It's still all rubbish."

2D made a noise of agreement. He curled his toes to make them pop and put his feet on the table. Murdoc ended up settling on the news for a bit before the singer changed it to the Mighty Boosh.

"Why do you watch 'is stuff?"

The singer gave a goofy smile. "It's funny, Muds."

A character named Vince started to be the focus of the show and Murdoc smiled. "Yew just like watching him."

He laughed, "Yeah, 'e is pretty. Not quite my type though." His eyes stole a glance at his friend.

Murdoc was about to speak again when the bell rang. The singer got up and went to pay the deliveryman. He returned with food and the Satanist soon forgot what he was going to say.

2D took out his meal and tucked in with a pair of chopsticks while Murdoc nearly inhaled his. He smiled while watching the bassist eat. It had been a long time since he had seen him so enthusiastic about food. Bits of white rice stuck around his mouth.

The night ticked on and without either of them noticing how they had opened a few beers and were talking away. Another bottle cap fell to the floor as Murdoc started in on a new drink. He was losing a lot of the venom he held in the day, speaking more freely.

Stu always watched how much he drank, never drinking too much. But he was comfortable with Murdoc around—a much needed familiar face. "Yew know I've been to Hell. Bloody hot let me tell you that."

"Wot doyou mean you've been to Hull?"

"I mean I've been there, yeah? You must have heard 'at's where little Noodle went." He took a big drink, "Six months down there and no sign of her. You wouldn't believe how big that place is. Did get to talking with Satan though, lovely bloke."

Nodding softly 2D sighed. He had heard about it online, it was amazing how much information Gorillaz-Unofficial knew about them—probably more than they knew themselves. "Well I just hope she's doin' awright."

"Ah, she is, she is. Yew know her, Stu. She wouldn't let herself stay in too much trouble, yeah?"

Again he nodded. "Yeah, you're prolly right."

"She's not a kid anymore. 'll be nineteen this year. Crazy that."

"Really? When did she stop bein' a kid? If she's nine'een that'll make me fir'ytwo. I can't be fir'ytwo, I'm still twen'yfree."

Murdoc laughed. "Yew wish, mate. Looks like you've been livin' in tha past."

The singer smiled and looked hazily at the telly. Yeah, maybe he was living in the past but who could blame him? He'd never wanted to grow up, just stay in Neverland forever. Ah, but the real world was calling.

A comfortable silence fell over the two. Before the singer really realized he was leaning on Murdoc's shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep. "Feelin' knackered?" 2D nodded and offered a weak smile.

"I fink it might be time for me ta sleep." He stood up shakily, shoulders sinking under some unseen weight. His fingers found the glasses that were still on his face and folded them, setting them down on the table next to Murdoc's notebook. "You gunna stay up a bit longa?"

The bassist stretched and scratched his stomach. "Might as well go with you." He got up and followed Stuart to his bedroom. There were clothes thrown all over the floor, pill bottles, cig butts, and pocket change mixed in as well. It reminded him of his room at Kong, old habits die hard.

2D grabbed a few bottles and downed a pill from each before crawling into bed. Murdoc looked around for a beat before tossing himself next to his friend. The bed smelled heavily of the singer and somewhere inside he smiled. Mismatched eyes closed and a quick image of them together flashed through his mind.

It had been a long time since they'd last shagged. Would Stu even want to anymore? He had kissed him earlier so… "Hey, 'D. Want to help me out a bit?"

The singer rolled over to face him. "Er, wot with?"

"Well," he started in. "Yew know, it has been a long time since we were last in a bed together. An' ah well, let's not dance around the subject, 'ey? Hows about you give me a blowjob?"

Stuart was taken aback. His mouth opened and then closed, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Come on, blushing over him saying that after how long? "Murdoc…"

He frowned. "Ah, okay, I get it. Well, g'night then." The bassist turned away from him in faux moodiness. It was only a few moments before 2D pressed himself against his back and ran his hands down his chest. Murdoc let out a satisfied growl as Stu started kissing and nipping his neck.

Slowly the singer made his way down his lover's body. By the time his nimble fingers reached his prick it was fully hard and demanding his attention. The bassist turned slightly so that he could kiss Stuart. As his hands wrapped around him Murdoc groaned and tugged at 2D's hair.

After a few minutes of a sloppy handjob the singer let go and moved the both of them so that he could go down on him. The Satanist murmured approval and fixed his gaze on the blue hair that was bobbing between his legs. It wasn't long after he really started to get going that Murdoc came. He hissed as 2D continued through his orgasm.

Stuart came back up to his pillow, licking his slightly swollen lips. He smiled at himself, happy that he could still remove Murdoc from his 'right' mind. A beat or so later he ran a hand along the bassist's side as he got up to brush his teeth and take care of his own growing problem.

When he returned he scooted himself so his back ran along his friend's side. As 2D was fading in and out of sleep he swore he heard Murdoc say he had missed him. But whether he was talking about his body or just him was hard to tell.