Chapter: Four.
Series: Gorillaz.
Rating: R. Foul language, very light angst, and slash (Murdoc2D)
Disclaimer: Albarn's and Hewlett's.
Chapter Warnings: Slash. Y'know. Man having sex with another man. That fun stuff. Drug references tossed in here and there.
Notes: Writing smut, even tame smut, makes me tired. Idunno why. But, I am as exhausted and spent as 2D is, now, so I hope you all enjoy! Still got quite a few chapters to go through in this story, too. And again, thank you all SO SO much for the awesome feedback!
Also, note that the smut in this chapter has been cut down a bit, for the sake of obeying rules. There's no difference, really... just a couple of things taken out and tweeked, to be on the safe side. However, if you'd like to read the "uncut" version, head on over to:
www(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)community(slash)gorillazslash(slash)18790(dot)html
And feel free to comment here on
Danke!
The thing about relationships is how flexible they are.
Think about it. There are the people we know and trust, those people we have strong, stable friendships and kinships with. There are the people we know we love with all our hearts. There are the people we talk to from time to time but never really know from the inside out, nor do we really care to. There are the people we admire from distances, and people we admire unrequitedly. There are people we put up with simply because we have to. There are people we hate.
Friends. Lovers. Family. Acquaintances. Enemies. Serious. Committed. Casual - and all the levels in between each one.It could be anything. It could go on for ages.
They stared one another down for a long time after Murdoc spoke.
2D wasn't sure if he'd heard him correctly. He knew what he was seeing on the other man's face and in his mismatched eyes, certainly, but he didn't trust the words.
He finally asked, "...wot?"
Murdoc shifted, placing a palm on the mattress beside him, and leaned himself closer to 2D. The singer watched, with wide, endlessly dark eyes, as the older man's stare slowly, smoothly morphed into a leer.
"Y'eard me."
He was at a loss. He didn't know what to say. Things were suddenly computing much slower and with much more difficulty than he wanted them to.
"An' I'd really like t'know, mate," Murdoc went on, slinking a bit too close for comfort - with 2D too shocked and caught off-guard to scoot away - and leaning his lips right up against the sensitive shell of 2D's ear. His voice lowered to a purr. "wot's so wrong about bedding a bloke, hm?"
Despite his discomfort, 2D shivered. The warm breath washing over his ear did feel rather good. "Well, I, ah... w-well, y'see-"
"Nothin," Murdoc cut him off. His lips brushed against 2D's ear as he spoke, and the singer visibly jumped. "at all."
Finally wrenching himself out of his paralysis, 2D moved away, turning to watch Murdoc's eyes carefully. "N-now, Murdoc, that ain't funny an' I don't ap'reciate y'makin' fun'na me..."
"Who said I was makin' fun?"
"Murdoc, s'the grass talkin. Yer coastin..."
"An' so're you."
"Yer worse off'n I am, me reckons."
Murdoc fell silent, but he continued to leer. It took all the effort 2D possessed not to look away, or get up and leave. He didn't want to run from him anymore. He had to stop retreating with his tail between his legs. When he'd returned to Kong Studios, he thought he was changed. He felt good about himself, he had his ego back, and he was ready to straighten out his relationships with his bandmates. His relationship with Murdoc, in particular. He even told himself, rather firmly, that he wasn't going to bend over and take it anymore.
Murdoc's words could be powerful. 2D had forgotten that.
After a few weeks, it was back to normal, and 2D had been back to Murdoc's personal Verbal And Physical Punching Bag.
This felt like the ultimate insult. The kick in the gut. The elbow to the ribs. Not only was Murdoc taking jabs at his sexuality, but he was also taking advantage of his drug-induced vulnerability. It may have been the influence of the marijuana, but that damnable leer on Murdoc's face was disgustingly and disturbingly attractive and he didn't need to add insult to that particular injury. A blow to his pride.
His discomfort heightened, and, defeated, he finally made a move to get up, get out, get away from those burning, hungry eyes.
He felt the strong fingers wrap themselves firmly around his wrist, but he barely had a chance to process much else before he was jerked harshly back onto the mattress. He tried to scramble back up, but Murdoc, yet again, managed to pin him with eye contact alone.
"Y'ain't goin anywhere," the bassist murmured, moving onto his hands and knees on the mattress. "M'not done wif you, yet."
2D watched, half horrified and half something else, as Murdoc crawled toward him, his body moving with the surprising, utter fludity of a giant, predatory feline. He subconsciously sank down onto his back, keeping his eyes on his band mate's face as he came to loom over him, a hand on either side of his head.
"...Murdoc, don' do this."
Murdoc's eyes narrowed. He looked evil. "Yer not exactly puttin up a fight, now, are you?"
2D was surprised to find his voice weakening. "Why're y'doin this? S'not funny and... and, er..." He trailed off when Murdoc bent lower, low enough to nuzzle at his neck. Any and all other words wound up caught in his throat, and he swallowed them - along with the lump that mysteriously formed there - back down. His hands refused to move from his sides, fingers curling into the mattress.
He felt hot breath race over his skin as Murdoc shot back with, "Does'it look like m'laughin?"
"...n-no..."
"Then shuddup."
He did.
Not like he had too much more to say, anyway.
He'd always been curious. He often wondered, passing it all off as innocent, meaningless curiosity, exactly what it was about Murdoc that drew women to him like moths to a blazing inferno. By just looking at him and interacting with him on a daily basis, it was tough to tell. He was ragged and unkempt, he very obviously had a hygiene problem, he cursed like a drunken sailor (drank like one, too), he always had this peculiar, somewhat unpleasant scent about him, he had no shame, no respect, and no morals... and yet, women found him absolutely irresistable.
And yet, in 2D's case, here he was, allowing the man to slowly seduce him into an experience he'd never had before with slow, strangely arousing exhalations along his neck and exposed collarbones.He barely needed to touch him. How was that? What did Murdoc have that nobody else didn't?
It's the drugs, mate. he told himself. The drugs. You're BOTH still blasted and your senses are heightened. He's taking advantage of it. He knows you'll enjoy i-
There was sudden sting of pain. Sharp, burning, somewhat detached with the aid of his strong painkillers.
Murdoc had just bitten him. Right over the sensitive bruise on the side of his neck.
He grunted, snapping his eyes open and twitching. "OW. Wot-"
"Tell me, Tusspot," Murdoc growled against his skin. "why y'always look so embarrassed when I catch'yeh lookin at me."
"Stop it," 2D pleaded. He started squirming. His legs were already twisted to the side, hanging over the edge of the mattress, so maybe if he tried hard enough...
"Tell me." the bassist repeated, louder this time.
"Get th'frig off-"
"Don'make me bite you again."
2D shut himself up, and tried to focus on keeping his breathing under control. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm in his chest.
"I wonder," Murdoc mumbled quietly to himself after a pause, snaking his tongue out to lap over the throbbing bruise. The hickey. "who did this t'you. I wonder..." 2D felt fingers inching their way up underneath his teeshirt, skirting over his ribs, and his breath hitched in his throat. "if she's better'n me."
"Murdoc, yer too high..."
"Stop'oldin back."
"But-"
He was cut off by another brush of Murdoc's tongue. A delightful shiver went through him.
"Go wif it."
Tentatively, after slight hesitation, 2D lifted one of his uncertain hands from the mattress and placed it awkwardly on the back of Murdoc's strong neck.
The man shuddered, and 2D flinched, jerking his hand away.
"No," Murdoc was quick to breathe against his ear. "No." He started a trail of open-mouthed kisses down along the side of the singer's neck. "Keep touchin me."
2D swallowed, obeying the gruff command, returning his hand to where it'd been. Murdoc hummed, a low "Mmm..." in the back of his throat, taking a moment to pull his lips from 2D's skin and push himself up into the touch. The movement of Murdoc's body was so fluidly wanton that 2D couldn't help but watch in hypnotized awe. He was most certainly beginning to see that thing about him that had birds fancying him so much. Behind closed doors, there was just something so deliciously, unabashedly sinful about him and every move he made.
The man was also extremely relentless.
Once he realized that 2D had given up trying to fight back, he'd nearly torn the clothing from the singer's body. 2D had every intention on calling him on it at first, but it seemed unimportant once Murdoc returned to him, ravaging every inch of his skin with tongue and teeth and warm, rough hands. The more he was touched, the more he was bitten and nipped at, the stronger the relaxation and haziness of the weed's after-effects seemed to get and the quicker he found himself falling completely into everything his band mate was doing to him, sighing and gasping and weaving his fingers through dark hair. He began to feel giddy, caught between wanting to smile and giggle, and wanting to move faster.
Murdoc hadn't bothered with preparation. He'd become too desperate and too needy to even think about it.
So of course, for 2D, there had been pain. Horrible, mind-numbing, agonizing pain that ripped through his entire body like paralyzing fire. He pulled his bassist down and held him around the torso with tense, tight arms, biting into his shoulder with his remaining teeth to muffle the scream. Murdoc didn't seem to mind. If he did, he didn't say or do anything.
Tears pricked at the corners of 2D's eyes, and he barely heard the pathetic whimpers drifting from the back of his own throat. Murdoc had been curteous for the first minute or so, straining to keep still, until it became too much of an effort for him and he moved.
2D went with it, his entire body shaking and throbbing as he attempted to move in time with him, rocking his hips up against Murdoc's and choking back pained sobs. It'd been excruciating, but somewhere behind it all, there was a dim flicker of pleasure and he zeroed in on it. Tried to intensify it.
The more he moved, the stronger it got.
Soon enough, the two of them were sliding together effortlessly, both slick with perspiration. Their limbs trembled, the mattress creaked beneath them, the room's smoky odor was slowly replaced with a masculine, musky scent. It was unlike anything 2D had ever experienced before.
He was overwhelmed. He couldn't get close enough, and he tried to hold himself together for as long as he possibly could, for just one more second of that delicious heat and friction.
He broke when he felt Murdoc sucking on the bruise that already marred his skin. Murdoc followed him willingly, clenching his teeth possessively over that mark on his neck.
It took 2D some time to recuperate. Perhaps, yet again, it was simply the drugs, but he'd never felt so spent and satisfied in the afterglow before. Murdoc had settled his weight down on top of him while he fought to recover, as well, and - for reasons he just couldn't explain - 2D moved a weak hand from around the bassist's back to tilt his chin up.
Murdoc's face was flushed. Sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead. His eyes were half-lidded. 2D held those eyes with his for a moment, before bringing Murdoc's face toward his own to experimentally kiss him.
And to his surprise, Murdoc kissed back.
It was a lazy, exhausted kiss that tasted unmistakably of copper. A stale, bitter, bloody taste. A repellent taste, but at the same time, it was strangely intoxicating.
Murdoc pulled away first. He dropped his forehead to 2D's shoulder and fell asleep almost immediately.
The singer was left with warmth, comfortable weight, and the feeling of another's heartbeat slowing and relaxing against his own as he let himself fall into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
thanks goes to reina, for inspiring some of the bits and pieces, and to cap'n stan, for putting up with my whining at one in the morning (my time) while I wrote this. love you guys.