Not so broken-hearted (2D/STYLO) Chapter 6

It had been about a week and a half since 2D had moved into his new house. Every other day, it seemed like a box was left on his doorstep, or a piece of furniture, or some clothing. He felt a little strange accepting the anonymous donations, but any help was help, and he appreciated it. He'd even gotten some money, a few hundred dollars, that he held onto for dear life. Eventually, somehow, he'd put it to good use. His birthday would come up in a week or two, and maybe he'd do something with it then.

Meanwhile, he'd taken a few of those dollars and brought the Stylo to a self-attended carwash on a warmer day, carefully washing the body of the auto, cleaning around the windscreens by hand as not to get water into the interior. He carefully removed the rest of the broken glass from the rear window, vowing to get it replaced along with the driver's window.

2D also attentively detailed the inside of the car as well, making sure the light beige upholstery was as clean as possible. Seeing the camaro's condition improve, even a little, brought a smile to his face. He felt impulsed to remain intimately close as he cleaned, subconsciously making little caresses and affectionate gestures without much thought. He was becoming much more comfortable with the black beast, and knew the traces of its every contour quite soon.

On a lazy afternoon, about two days before his birthday, 2D was washing his few dishes after lunch when he smelled something curiously sweet wafting through the air. There was a knock at the glass door, as he'd left the wooden front door open, and he turned to walk to the door and answer it, only to stop dead in his tracks at what he saw.

Standing at his doorstep, in plain jeans, a T-shirt, and ratty sneakers, holding some mysterious pie, was a sight that 2D crumbled before. "Toochi!" She shouted happily, grinning. Noodle was taller than he remembered. But then, he remembered years ago. Opening the door, he immediately took the pie and set it aside on a small table, grabbing her with his long arms and squeezing her tight, lifting the girl off of the ground.

"Noodle!" He shouted happily. He couldn't help but smile. Setting her down, he backed away a few steps. He then remembered what happened on Plastic Beach, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. He looked down, suddenly distressed. "What's wrong, toochi-san?" Noodle looked at him curiously. He sighed, and with a heavy heart, blurted "I hurt Murdoc...I'm sorry..." feeling ashamed, he ran to the kitchen, leaning on the counter near the refrigerator. His head began throbbing, competing with his heart to make him explode.

Noodle rushed over, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He deserves every bit of it." she murmured. At this, 2D froze, eyes wide. "But...he was our band leader...s-shouldn't I be sorry...? He... he hurt me, but.." he trailed, flustered. Noodle pulled him by the shoulders so that he was facing her and looked him straight in the eyes. She shook her head. "He hurt you. He held you captive, he destroyed you. I will not forgive him for that. We are tougnt as we grow to forgive, but some I simply can't. Nor should you."

Hugging him tightly, she retrieved the pie from the table by the door, bringing it over and sitting it on the counter. "Come on. Show me your home. I want to know you're safe." This got a melancholy smile from the young man, and he nodded. "Okay. This way..." he showed her through the house, explaining everything as he went. She listened, interested. He finished up the tour at the carpark door.

"And this.." he walked into the carpark, leaving the door open for Noodle, "...is the Stylo." he unthinkingly ran a hand down its side as he circled the shadowy machine, stopping at the driver's side and leaning gently on the roof. Noodle noted the intimate behaviour, then took in the full sight of the car as she made a complete circuit around it. "It's nice."

2D smiled. "Yes...y'know, I escaped in this.." he gave the vehicle a peck as she moved, thinking it would be unnoticeable. She noted it silently. "So, have you met any of your neighbours?" she absently questioned. He shook his head, then paused for thought. "Are you going to stay awhile?" he looked at her hopefully; they had a lot of catching up.

"Actually, yes," she nodded. "I don't have a home either and was hoping to stay for some time." At this, he smiled excitedly and gave a little hop. "That's great! I missed you..." he stopped as his stomach gave an awkwardly loud growl. The two laughed and headed back into the kitchen.

They eventually sat at the couch, where there was now a small coffee table, and ate a few slices of the pie Noodle had brought. They talked and laughed and shared missed memories until nightfall. Noodle retired on the couch, curled up in a soft blanket, and 2D peacefully rested in his bed, feeling much less anxious now that he wasn't alone. His sleeping mind wandered over apple pie and camaros and friendship, and danced around ideas of happiness and future.

Come morning, Noodle took him to a nearby shopping outlet for a day of fun and relaxation. She noticed his anxiety as he left the house without the Stylo for the first time. He'd been in the carpark for several minutes before they left in the truck. They wandered throughout the stores and didn't buy much, but had a pleasant time nonetheless. 2D would occasionally space out or make a sour expression when he was reminded of something Murdoc had done or said to him. Noodle could still see the trauma in his eyes.

Later, the two traveled to a small, cheap Mexican restaraunt and sat to have a bite. Noodle was sure she'd never seen 2D's eyes get so big as an amazingly large plate full of burritos, taquitos, rice and other goodies arrived at the table– she'd told the waiter to bring the largest reasonable order of 2D's meal that they could. She wanted him to indulge, to get away from the ever-present negative feeling she saw in him when he remembered Murdoc. And she figured the best way was to celebrate.

The rest of the night went much in the same fashion; the two laughed and talked and had fun. 2D offered to drive the two home, as Noodle had already done so much already, and she gladly allowed him. She noticed the care he took not to slam her truck door, the ease with which he went about making adjustments to his seat and the steering wheel; however, he seemed quite distant and almost businesslike in how he handled the vehicle compared to his Stylo.

For awhile, the drive was silent. He decided to take a back road on the advice of Noodle, slowing the pace of the trip. There was no better pace than a leisurely one, as proclaimed by Noodle. Later, breaking the silence, Noodle spoke up. The way he behaved had been something in her mind that she just could not crack, despite being a "walking smarts-bank" in some earlier words from Stuart.

"Toochi-san?" she anxiously grabbed his attention. "Yeah, Noods?" he glanced in her direction. She paused, thinking of how to put her words together. Suddenly, she felt unsure asking, almost unwelcome asking. She sighed deeply. "What's special to you about the Stylo?" she questioned quietly, hoping not to offend him. There was a thick silence for a moment. 2D's heard pounded; he felt it might bust his ribcage; he was suddenly nauseous. "Well...he's been there with me through it all..I mean, it. It has... and Stylo has suffered the same hardships, being abused and used by Murdoc...he neglected us both..." his breath seemed to escape him, and he swallowed hard. Noodle saw his reluctance to go on, and waited patiently.

"The Stylo seemed like my only friend for so long..." he went dead silent, gnawing his lip. His head began to throb and hurt again. It was not as bad as before he'd escaped, but this was the worst he'd felt since, and Noodle could tell. They pulled into the driveway and 2D killed the engine of the little pickup and got out, locking his door and rushing in before even looking at Noodle again. When she came in, she didn't see him right away. Instinctively, she headed for the carpark.

Her guess was right, she realised, as she opened the door. There was 2D, sitting in the driver's seat of the car, head leaned on the steering wheel and hands loosely embracing the column behind it. She saw a tear roll down his face and quietly paced over. "Toochi-san.." she murmured. He shut his eyes. "I'm losing it, aren't I?" he asked, clenching his jaw. "No...Toochi, you are just different...if you need to heal by showing love in a different way, then fine... but if you want help, I can find you someone to talk o.." she treaded extremely gently.

As soon as he heard her mention things like 'different' and 'help', his mind switched gears. He tried his best not to be angry with her, speaking with an exasperated but controlled tone. "I don't need...h-help... please, just..." his breath caught in his throat. "Just go..." he quietly sobbed. At this, Noodle nodded. "Call if you need me, big brother..." she quickly exited, leaving him to his own devices.

2D did his best to stop the flow of tears. He felt like a fool. Sighing heavily, he leaned back in his seat, looking around the interior of the automobile he had begun to cherish so much. He saw such a comforting environment. Stepping out of the auto, he slowly paced to the front end of the vehicle, fingertips lightly tracing the edge of its hood. He slid to his knees and leaned on the hood, letting his arms limply stretch over it. "Friend, we're two of a kind..so hurt and mistaken." He whispered.

Alone and finally beginning to realise the extent of his feelings, 2D awkwardly craned himself back a little and planted a deep kiss right in the center of the car's large emblem that read "STYLO". Another defining feature that he loved so much. The cold metal was a new thing for him, but he enjoyed it. He interlaced his fingers with the grid-like grille and continued affectionately kissing and nuzzling the vehicle. He came to a stop, heart pounding. He didn't understand his own feelings for once, but that didn't matter anymore to him.

He looked at the auto from where he was; stared at it. He straightened up, still on his knees, leaning against the grille. He felt a bit of faint throbbing in his abdomen, and his breathing, he now noticed, had become quickened ever so slightly. He knew exactly what he was beginning to feel, but pushed it back. The idea of feeling affectionate for the camaro was one thing, but sexual arousal was another. 2D started to get antsy. His clothing was suddenly extremely uncomfortable. He glanced at the closed carpark door and decided it was in his best interest to move to lock it, which he quickly did.

He unzipped his jeans, still a little hesitant, but beginning to feel more and more urgent as he stood and took in the breathtaking curves and angles along the Stylo's hard, smooth body. He moved close and leaned against the side of the vehicle, feeling even more squirmish. Unable to take it anymore, he began to grind against the side paneling of the Stylo, a surprised little moan escaping from the back of his throat.

2D became decidedly bold in his pursuit, kicking off his shoes and flinging his pants halfway across the room. He shook, still anxious, the chilly air more noticeable now that he was only in his shirt and underpants, which to him, were unnecessarily thin at this particular moment. He went back to grinding against the Stylo, moving around to its tail end, his face redder than a tomato and his lips slightly parted. Feeling both anxious and aroused by the black beauty rocking beneath him as he leaned over the Stylo's spoiler, he paused for a minute. Looking down at the Stylo's tailpipes, which were a little bit too small, he went ahead and discarded his underpants– scratch that. The tailpipes were way too small.

2D tried to squat down to make his erect member level with the lower rear of the car, but found it was too low. He couldn't safely position himself over the spoiler either, so he took the easier route by quickly rounding to the front of the vehicle and lowering himself onto the top of the hood, the chilly metal causing him to flinch, but after his erection rested against it for a little bit, he got used to it. Slowly, 2D began to thrust parallel to the hood, rubbing against it, careful not to hurt himself, leaning with his palms on the hood.

Panting, he began to speed up, quickly starting to build. He whimpered lowly, sounding like a pitiful animal. He gritted his teeth as he felt that tight knot begin forming in his abdomen. He gasped a little more audibly now. "S-Stylo..." the gasp faded into a low moan. When he realised he'd actually said the car's name, his mind finally processed what exactly he was doing. The man was having a crude, masturbatory form of sex with his car. A few tears rolled down his face as he slowed a little but continued, already too far along to stop now.

'They'll ridicule me,' he thought. 'They'll put me on TV, or arrest me, maybe put me in jail...but I can't help this...' he gave a stressful hiccup. 'I can't. I won't try, either..' he felt a little vengeful, as if he was flipping the middle finger to society for being judgemental. As he sped up his thrusts against the sleek black hood, causing the camaro to rock much harder, even squeaking on its suspension a little, he gave what was a mix between a moan, a growl, and a pitiful whine. Finally, as he could hold himself no more, he came hard, fluids erupting over the hood of the auto, moaning quite audibly for several seconds, calling the name of the Stylo in a shuddering, weak voice.

Panting hard to catch his breath, he sank slowly to sit on the cold concrete floor, exhausted and bewildered af the experience he'd just had. It was not unpleasant, but he didn't know exactly what to make of it. As his heartbeat and breath slowed, and he came back down to earth, he took in the sight of the camaro. The stark contrast of whitish cum slowly rolling down the black hood. If he wasn't already physically and emotionally spent, he'd've been even more turned on than before.

Deciding he had to clean up, 2D got up, then realised there was probably no good explanation if he was caught wiping the hood of the camaro clean, or trying to retrieve supplies in order to do so. Desperate, he stood and thought as hard as possible. After a moment of consideration, he reluctantly moved toward the hood and leaned over it, peeling his shirt off. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten sex fluids on clothing before, but he felt odd. As he wiped the liquids from the hood of the Stylo as well as he possibly could using the T-shirt, he pondered. He knew he should go back to his bedroom, but he'd have to walk past Noodle, who slept on the couch. Even if she was asleep, he didn't feel right being around her in such a condition.

Besides that, 2D sort of wanted to stay with the Stylo. Kind of like cuddling with a lover after a tiring session. Realising he was now completely nude, he picked up his underwear and pants from the floor and put them back on. He figured he could bathe in the morning. Giving an exhausted stretch, he climbed into the driver's seat of the auto, reclining and turning over on his side to get comfortable. Mixed emotions raced through him– shame, guilt and anxiety combated with peace and satisfaction, making sleep a bit difficult. However, when 2D's subconscious finally ran out of anxiety fuel, he finally drifted off.

–

"Toochi!" Noodle knocked on the carpark door. No response. Her worries were beginning to get the best of her. She worried about whether Stuart might have hurt himself when he was upset. Impatient, she took a bobby pin she always kept in her hair (both for aesthetic and emergency purposes) and picked the lock with ease. She swung the door open slowly, stepping down into the carpark. The first thing she noticed was a funny, chlorinated smell to the air and the discarded shirt and shoes in the floor.

Pacing quickly around to the driver's side door of the automobile, she leaned close to the window and saw 2D lying on his side in the reclined seat, back to the door. As expected, he was wearing no shirt or shoes. He shivered a little in his sleep, quietly murmuring about the Stylo. "2D...it's morning.." she gently prodded his shoulder with her fingertips.

2D jumped, startled to wakeness. He turned his head quickly, only to see that Noodle had gotten into the carpark. "O-oh...Noods, lov, what're you doing here...?" He yawned. She gave him a puzzled look. "You scared me, I thought you disappeared." She stated plainly. This got an apologetic look from the man. "I'm sorry. I dozed off before I could come in." He lied. A little white one, but a lie, and Noodle could tell. She decided not to say much of anything about it yet. "Come on, birthday boy, we're going to celebrate."

She motioned for him to follow, and went into the house, leaving the carpark door standing wide open. 2D got out of the Stylo and gathered his shirt and shoes. He gave the auto a reluctant look, almost sad to leave. Before walking into the house, he planted a kiss on the vehicle's hood which was by no means quick.

The smell of sweat and coffee, along with waffles and dirt, flooded Murdoc's nostrils, provoking another massive pain for his sinuses, which would never get better, or so he was convinced. There was the hustle and bustle of a little diner he'd come upon on the way back from one of his major intelligence sources in the States. The tiny restaraunt was worn down, a hole torn in the sign on the outside that used to read "SUNRISER DINER"; it now read "SUNRI-NER" and the loose parts flapped in heavy winds.

The little place wasn't the busiest all the time, but he'd stopped for lunch, which wasn't a good idea anywhere if you asked him, but stomachs tend to have an annoying way of reminding you that you're alive. He had just finished eating whatever he'd barely bothered to order, and was headed out the door. He pondered how long it would take to get him from Texas to Arizona without stopping, except to buy gas and sharpen a knife.

Murdoc unlocked and opened the driver's door of a pretty little el Camino, not much different from the one they'd fled from so long ago. However, the paint was a striking black, which Murdoc had customized to carry a large red sigil of Baphomet across the hood. The little demon had a roar to match its appearance and was intimidating despite its low-to-the-ground stature. The bassist climbed in and fired up his little fiend and pulled out, continuing his westward voyage.