Murdoc Niccals was quite possibly the worst person on the entire planet. It was a fact. If someone approached him, they would first see his thick black fringe, greenish skin, and inverted cross necklace. If they looked further, they would notice the strangely pointed teeth, the mismatched eyes, and the crooked nose, courtesy of the various times it had been broken.
He was a slob. He left dirty underwear and t-shirts scattered all over the house. His personal hygiene needed some serious help. The only thing he loved more than Satan was alcohol. Or women. Either one.
He was literally, honestly evil. He was the reason poor Stuart Pot turned into a black-eyed dunce. He kidnapped musicians and so-called "friends" and forced them to perform for the making of his album Plastic Beach. (If you didn't hear about that before, well... the more you know.) He tricked, lied to and manipulated everyone around him. He brought a different girl home practically every night, just to throw her out wearing nothing more than a towel. Sometimes less.
Murdoc Niccals was quite possibly the worst person on the entire planet.
"'ey Muds, wot d'you think o' this one?" A warbly, Cockney accented voice filled the air, followed by a short melody from a keyboard.
The bassist rolled his eyes, resting a hand on his cheek. "I wanted something with a bit more depth."
2D wilted like a flower that had just been trampled on with a Cuban-heeled boot.
"But-"
"Listen, your playing isn't the problem," Murdoc said, strumming a note on El Diablo. "It's the tune. This is too, y'know, light. It's too flouncy." Seeing the look on 2D's face, he stopped. "But, eh, we've been working for hours. We should take a break."
The fridge door rattled with the sound of clinking liquor bottles.
Murdoc pulled out two beers, handed one to 2D, and sat sprawled at the kitchen table.
2D stretched his long arms and sighed. "Where's Noodle an' Russel?"
He shrugged and took a drink from his beer. "I dunno. Out. They left this morning to get milk."
2D squinted. "This morning? It's almost four."
"How the hell should I know where they are? It's not my job to look after everyone in this bleedin' house."
"Maybe they got kidnapped," 2D mused. "And they need our 'elp!"
Murdoc rolled his eyes.
"Or the zombies from Kong are back! An' they're takin' over the whole city!"
"The zombies are gone," he said. "Remember?"
"Murdoc," 2D chided, as if talking to a small child, "the undead never stay dead." He chuckled and went back to creating crazy scenarios, half talking to himself and half to his friend.
Jesus, Murdoc thought. This kid never shuts up. He finished his beer and got up. "Ah. Well, that was fun. Let's get back to work."
"But we just-" he protested.
"I said let's get back to work, dullard. Music doesn't write itself."
Pouting, 2D pushed his chair in and slunk up the stairs to his room. Crumpled-up papers and water bottles littered the floor. Murdoc's bass was laid down on the ground. 2D was careful not to trod on it. The last time he stepped on one of Murdoc's things, he got shoved in a cupboard. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if he so much as touched his precious guitar.
Murdoc sat down and looked through the discarded papers. "Did we get anything at all?"
"Erm... no."
He scowled. "This is all rubbish. No wonder we haven't been able to put out anything new."
"I thought we were takin' a break from this stuff for a while, Murdoc?"
"Well we don't want people forgetting about us, do we?"
"It's hasn't been that long."
"It's been long enough. Come on, let's practice."
At seven o'clock, Russel and Noodle came home.
"TWO-DEEEEE!" Noodle shouted, running down the hallway and leaving Russel with the grocery bags. "MURDOC! WE'RE HOOOOME!" She scrambled up the stairs and went into 2D's room.
"2D?" She looked around and put a hand to her mouth, giggling. "What are you doing?"
He was asleep, with his face pressed against the wooden floor and his rump in the air. An acoustic guitar was laying on the ground next to him.
Noodle poked him with a finger. "Wake up."
He opened his eyes and jumped up like he had just been electrocuted. "Ah! Whasgoinon?"
"Hi, 2D. We're back. Where's Murdoc?"
The blue-haired man rubbed his eyes. "He went out a couple hours ago. He told me to keep working."
"Working on what?" Noodle peered at the messy jumble of broken lyrics and guitar chords on the piece of slightly crumpled paper laying next to the singer.
2D ran a hand through his now mussed up hair. "Oh, me an' Murdoc were just messing around... he wants ta make somethin' new."
"Like an album?"
"Yeah."
Noodle made a face. "I think we all just need to relax." She sighed. "He's always working on something."
"NOODS?" A voice yelled from downstairs.
"YEAH?"
"COME DOWN! I NEED YOUR HELP MAKING DINNER."
"OKAY. BE RIGHT THERE." She smiled. "You should change. Food's gonna be ready soon."
2D looked down at his wrinkled clothes. "Okay." He put on a clean shirt, along with a new pair of jeans.
Russel and Noodle were making spaghetti.
"What do you think would happen if you put the sauce in first?" Noodle examined the cardboard box of pasta. "It probably wouldn't cook as well, huh?"
Russel grunted. He had been stuck with the grocery shopping yet again, and to make things worse, on their way back home they had encountered a group of fangirls. The two had barely escaped, leaving behind Russel's jacket and a handful of hair clips that had been yanked painfully from Noodle's head.
The guitarist set the table and put the pot of spaghetti down. "DINNER'S READY!"
2D came into the kitchen and sat down with his bandmates. "Hey, thanks for cookin' dinner," he said through a mouthful of pasta. "This is really good."
Noodle grinned. "Thank you!"
"Oh, I meant to ask. What took you guys so long? I thought you were just gettin' milk."
"Noods dragged me to see this movie," Russel said. "Said she wouldn't leave without seeing it."
Noodle shrugged. "It was a spy movie. Come on, Russel. Didn't you like it too?"
He smiled. "Yeah, it was pretty good."
Dinner was peaceful and cozy until the front door flew open. A very drunk Murdoc stumbled his way into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, a half-empty bottle of booze in his hand.
"Hello, friends," he slurred, taking a swig from his bottle. "How's it hangin'?" You could smell the alcohol fumes from across the room.
"Murdoc?" Noodle said quietly.
"Yes, m'dear?" He chuckled at himself.
"Are you all right? Do you need one of us to-"
"No, no! I am absolutely lovely. No need to worry your little head about me." He smiled and patted her hair.
"I think you've had enough," she said, gently removing the bottle from his hands. Murdoc glowered at her and yanked it back.
"And I think," he said, "you need to piss off." He took another drink.
"Murdoc, put it down." Russel's voice was soft. The bassist's bandmates had dealt with plenty of his drunk tantrums before.
Jaw clenched, he glared at him and threw the bottle at the wall. It shattered with a loud crash, leaving glass shards on the floor and liquid splashed on the white paint.
"Fuck you." He turned and left down the hallway.
Russel and Noodle exchanged glances.
"I'll get 'im," 2D said.
He followed Murdoc until they got to the top of the stairs.
"Oi, what are you doin'?"
Murdoc looked behind his shoulder at the blue-haired man. "Jesus. What do you want now? Sod off."
"Are you okay?"
He scoffed. "And why the bloody hell should you care if I was okay?"
2D blinked. "I'm your friend! We're your friends! Me, Russ, Noodle, we all care about you!"
"Bullshit."
"No! You mean something to us, Murdoc. Don't do this to yourself."
"Well you don't mean anything to me," Murdoc spat venomously.
2D was silent for a couple seconds.
"B-but what about that day on Plastic Beach," he stuttered. "I thought we-"
Murdoc spun around and grabbed the front of 2D's shirt, pressing him up against the wall. Bicolored eyes drilled into black ones. 2D could feel the bassist's hot breath on his neck. He was very, very scared now. He knew Murdoc, and this wasn't like any other time he had beat on him. That was usually just for fun. And he was quite good at it too, but he looked for any chance he could get to improve. 2D spilling something on the couch could be an excuse to punch him in the stomach.
"I told you never to mention that. EVER. Do you understand me?" The words were low and shaky with rage.
Now there was something in his expression that was angry. Resentful. But when he let go of the his shirt and ran off (to 2D's surprise), he looked almost... scared.
2D stood in the hallway. That day on Plastic Beach...
Murdoc was feeding his fish in the study when he heard a bloodcurdling scream.
"Oh, for the love of sweet Satan... what is that boy doing down there?" He made his way to 2D's room, sighing heavily as he came in. "WHAT is it?"
The singer was perched at the edge of his mattress, shivering in fear. His hands were over his eyes. "T-t-the whale," he whispered, pointing to the underwater window. A great big whale was swimming around, looking in through the window every so often. Of course, Murdoc knew about the whale. He had paid it to keep an eye on 2D so he wouldn't get any ideas about running off.
Murdoc closed the window's curtains.
2D peeked through his fingers. "Is it gone?"
"Yes," he said impatiently. "Was there anything else or were you just screaming for the sake of it?"
2D looked at the foot of his bed in shame. "No. Sorry."
Murdoc surveyed the younger man. He looked miserable, like he always did here, wearing one of his signature graphic tees and a pair of cutoffs. He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He drew his arms tighter around himself.
Maybe hiring the whale was too much...
Murdoc kept staring him. He didn't know why, but sometimes there was this thing you could see when you looked at 2D. It was a kind of innocence, like the kind you would see on the face of a little kid.
Suddenly he found himself leaning over the bed, close enough to gaze right into those endless black orbs of his.
"Murdoc? What are you-"
He kissed him hard, then pulled back.
2D gaped at him. "Wot the 'ell?"
Murdoc pinned him down on the mattress, grinning greedily. Now he was under his command.
2D was now very confused and somewhat frightened. He had never done anything like this before, and was pretty sure Murdoc hadn't either.
"I just realized," the bassist said in a gravelly voice, still hovering over the man, "how long it's been since we touched anybody. Time flies here. Are you saying you haven't felt lonely at all during these long months?"
He was right. It had been a long time since 2D had felt the warm embrace of a friend or the pressure of lips against his own. He hadn't given it much thought, but now he felt himself itching to have skin on skin contact. This island was driving him mad.
"So," Murdoc said, tickling his ear with hushed whispers. "what do you say?"
2D gave a stiff nod. He needed something to distract him from this pink plastic nightmare.
A pair of lips crashed against his, fighting for dominance, which wasn't a hard battle. That long tongue made its way into 2D's mouth. Murdoc tasted like hard alcohol and one too many cigarettes, but now 2D understood how all the girls found him so irresistible. He was cocky. He was experienced. He was... sexy, in that dark, mysterious way with his I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude.
2D would never admit this to anyone, but he had pondered what sex with Murdoc would be like before. He thought of those long guitar-plucking fingers and how he would use them like weapons against his lovers, those sharp teeth which could easily draw blood and leave a hell of a hickey, even his pimpled green arse could be used to his advantage somehow.
Murdoc pressed his body close to 2D's, hissing slightly against his mouth as the pianist's nimble fingers accidentally wandered near his crotch.
"This needs to be off," Murdoc said in a raspy voice, pulling the shirt over 2D's spiky azure hair.
"Ow," he mumbled. "That hur- AH..."
Murdoc ground his hips into the other man's, eliciting a soft moan from his partner. The Satanist kissed and nipped his way up 2D's chest and neck then paused when he got to a particular spot which seemed to make him mewl like a kitten. He bit it gently, then harder when he heard another satisfying moan. He growled and increased his speed, leaving little love bites all over his neck and shoulders. He looked down at his work.
2D, usually neutral-expressioned and pale as a ghost, was now panting heavily with a lustful look in his eyes and a thin sheen of sweat on his flushed skin. His hands were gripping the bedsheets like he wanted to tear them apart. The bitten areas on his shaking body were sure to be red and sore the next morning, but now they felt like heaven.
Murdoc thought he looked sort of beautiful like this. He wanted to remember how he looked before he shagged his brains out. But now all he wanted was to fulfill one of his most primal needs.
They resumed grinding, desperate to get closer to experience that delicious friction again. Murdoc grunted, feeling the growing hardness in the singer's pants. 2D blushed, but quickly forgot about being embarrassed.
Murdoc slowed his rotating pelvis when he thought he couldn't take it anymore.
"W-why'd you stop?" 2D asked breathlessly. Murdoc could almost hear the whine in his voice.
"Now it's time for the fun part." He smiled, his pointed teeth reminding 2D of the sharks that lived in the water surrounding his room.
