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“You sleep on top of the sheets.”
An awkward silence fell in the dingy motel room. The hum of traffic on the highway outside and the persistent buzz of the square tabletop fan (some former resident had tied bits of paper to the grill, making for a constant, shuttering noise like the hum of a thousand wasps) made the silence feel almost homey, and therefore, all the worse. Murdoc stood at the edge of the singular queen sized bed, shirtless, dark, and indignant. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted down from him to where Russel sat on the bed in his pajamas, cringing as the breeze picked up and he caught a whiff of sweat, stale smoke and… something else coming from the bassist’s nearly nude body. Something unmentionable.
“Excuse me?” Murdoc demanded finally, gesturing in disbelief. Russel sighed.
“Listen man, you stink. You haven’t washed in like… over a week, okay? You get in this bed, you’re gonna stank up the whole damn thing.” He paused, as if for emphasis. Murdoc opened his mouth but was cut off before he could respond. “You sleep on the sheets, and that’s all we’re gonna have to wash. If you get your whole body up in here, we’re gonna be stuck washing everything.”
“It’s a bloody motel Russ, for Satan’s sake!” Murdoc huffed, hands flying. “We don’t have to wash the sheets at all, they got people for that!!”
“You touch my pj’s and we’ll be washing those.”
“I can’t believe this,” Murdoc rasped, beginning to pout. “After everything I’ve done… and you just… just cast me aside… unbelievable. What if I get cold??”
“It’s the middle of a summer heatwave, Mud. In Texas, man. You’re sweating right now as we speak okay you’re not gonna get co–”
“I need to be a cozy boy!” the bassist wailed, and Russel cringed. You couldn’t win an argument with Murdoc; he went from 30 to 5 years old in seconds if he thought you were getting your way. None of this would even have been an issue if Stuart and Noodle had been here: Noodle and Russel would have shared one room, and Murdoc and Stu the other. Or they’d have gotten two beds. Or…
“You quit your bitchin’ or I see a bathtub with your name on it, Niccals,” Russel said triumphantly, but it was no use. Murdoc had already devolved into a tipsy, blubbering mess.
“Gonna get -sniff- sooo cold,” he mumbled to himself, scrubbing at his face in defeat. In the golden light from the streetlamps outside, Russel could have sworn he saw him shiver; ruffling his fingers through his dark wispy hair. “I don’t want - to be - alone,” he hiccuped. Russel sighed, shifting to the left end of the bed and patting the mattress beside him.
“Getcher scrawny ass over here,” he said, and Murdoc didn’t need to hear any more. He was on the bed in an instant, lying obediently atop the blankets until Russel conceded to letting him under the blankets.
“Thank you, Russ,” Murdoc said happily, all signs of tears magically gone.
“Don’t mention it,” Russel said, shaking his head.
“I love you, Russ,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard. Russel turned to look at the bassist and saw him wiggling his toes beneath the blankets. Something about that, probably encouraged by how exhausted he was, seemed incredibly endearing, and Russel found himself laughing as he turned back to sleep.
“Just promise me you’ll take a bath or something before we hit the road again, okay Muds?” A snuffling sort of snoring was the only reply. Lulled by the sounds of traffic and the wind rustling softly through the trees in the car park outside, Russel found himself nodding off as well, and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep with Murdoc curled beside him; separate, but together. It was a friendly sort of coziness.
During the night, the desert temperature dropped by 8 degrees, sending an unanticipated chill through the room from the open window. Russel awoke to the sound of a car horn and found Murdoc curled around him, arms grasping as far as they could reach across his belly in a desperate attempt at a spoon. The proximity made Russel’s heart skip, and he rolled over when he felt Murdoc shiver beside him, encouraging the smaller man to do the same. Murdoc was surprisingly compliant in his sleep, shuffling over and humming contentedly as Russel wrapped an arm around him and tugged him closer against his chest. Their combined heat helped Russel fall back asleep quickly, and in each other’s arms, they slept well past their nine o’clock alarm.