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It was too hot, too bright and smelled like salt and rotten fish. But that was just another day on Plastic Beach. 2D was up on the deck, leaning himself against the banister Murdoc had put together as he gazed out on the ocean. It made him feel really empty inside; How vast and lifeless the water around here was.
But he wouldn't complain. One little whine and Murdoc might force him back down in the basement. After months in that tiny room, only being able to leave for recordings and the occasional dinner with Murdoc, he learned to count his blessings.
Speak of the devil. Murdoc stepped out on the creaky wooden planks, joining 2D near the edge. "She's a beaut, ain't she?" He swirled his glass of rum, plucking the cigarette from his lips in favour of a sip. With the slur in his voice, the singer wondered to himself just how many glasses he'd drank before that one.
"Uh.. Yeah. She's something alright." 2D knew how proud Murdoc was of this pile of trash. But he didn't see it-- He just saw it as, well, trash.
Things between them hadn't been the same anymore. Murdoc obviously did his best to pretend that this wasn't what it was. Laughing it off whenever 2D asked if he could go home. 'Not yet!' he'd always say. Stuart did his best to be a positive guy, but sometimes there was no light to shed. And that's how he felt on his miserable little island.
"You wanna know what I don't get, Stu?" Murdoc started, tapping some ash from his fag and down into the rubble below. "I've had.. a million bands before Gorillaz. So many that I can't even remember the names of all of the people I played with! But for some reason-- You stuck. Why you?" He narrowed his eyes.
2D didn't have much to say back. He was use to these drunk ramblings by now. While they were usually about The Boogieman or his radio show, he was going to treat this one the same. As nothing.
"I just find it ironic cause out of eeeeveryone, you're the one still here with me. And you hate me!"
That snapped 2D's attention back. "I don't hate you, Muds?" He furrowed his brows, dropping the hand down he was using to prop his chin up.
It seemed to almost catch Murdoc off guard. He said nothing at first, staring at his blue haired singer with fuzzy eyes. "What?" He snorted with a breathy laugh. "Of course you hate me, faceache. Look what I did to your-- Face!" The bassist shoved a hand out towards 2D. "You've said it before, I've ruined your life!"
"... I was mad." 2D shrugged. "I ain't gonna say you don't piss me off none. You're an awful friend sometimes and an awful person in general. But you're still my awful friend. And I don't hate you." He meant every word of this. Most people by now would have said good riddance and cut ties with Murdoc, even despite the fame. But there was something in 2D that prevented him from leaving Murdoc.
Maybe it was the fact that everyone always left him; He didn't want to be another statistic.
Murdoc had gone silent again. He stared at 2D, then at the glass in his hand, then at his shoes. He was trying to process that information.
"You're a fool." He stated, taking an unsteady step closer to 2D.
The singer swallowed dryly, mimicking Murdoc's step with his own backwards.
"You're a bloody fool." The satanist slammed the glass down against the deck, the glass shattering making 2D flinch. He didn't have time to escape, before he knew it he was in the unbreakable clutches of Murdoc Niccals. And he was nearly shaking. He expected to be smacked around, punched, kicked. Anything like that but none of it came so he dared to open his eyes.
Murdoc was just staring at him again; Those untrimmed nails of his digging into the meat of 2D's arms.
"You're my best mate, Stu-Boy."
A pause.
"What?" 2D mumbled, his quivering starting to relax away.
No more words were exchanged between the two rockstars. Instead, Murdoc pulled 2D in to fill the gap between them. Their lips slamming together a little too hard; If 2D had front teeth, they probably would have clacked up against one another.
One of Murdoc's hands were threading up into the other's azure hair, gripping down tight enough to force a whimper out of his mouth- Though that wasn't exactly in an unpleasurable way.
He felt the bassist's sinfully long tongue drag out and across his lips, snaking it's way into his mouth to take over and taste every bit he could. It was almost overwhelming how much he tasted like rum and stale cigarettes.
Murdoc shoved forward, slamming 2D's back up against the banister, his spine aching where it'd hit the wood. The roughness was usually frightening but right now, he was jump-starting the singer's feistiness. He wrapped his long arms around Murdoc's middle, tightening his grip until they were pressed flush together and he could feel his beer belly flattening up against his stomach.
They didn't pull back until one absolutely needed air. Both were panting and 2D's face was a light pink at this point. He hadn't been expecting that but what was shocking him more was how quickly he'd gotten into it himself.
"2D," Murdoc cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his index finger against the other man's jawline. "You should stay up here tonight. We got recording to do tomorrow and it's awfully cold downstairs. Can't be good for your vocals."
"Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, Muds."
There it was. There was a glimmer of light.