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Things have gotten worse lately.
Murdoc had no idea why or how - but 2D's been so distant, so cold. The lad wouldn't even look him in the eye if he could help it. It was like he saw Murdoc as the asshole he'd been years ago, as the abuser, the kidnapper, the toxic, sex-hungry monster. The man who shattered him completely and left him to build himself back up again. Murdoc didn't see himself as that man anymore - he'd changed, he'd worked so hard on a brand new Murdoc Niccals. He saw himself as a different person now, severed from his past. Better. Friendlier. Occasionally cuddlier. He didn't see why 2D made such a big deal out of a long-gone feud between them.
It just- it didn't make sense! What more could 2D want from him? Kisses? Hugs? An extravagant declaration of love? Never happening. He wasn't in love with 2D. Sure, they'd had the occasional hookup, but that was always fueled by some sort of mind-altering substance and pure lust. Never love. And it would never become love.
Maybe the lad missed the old times? Some, err... abuse victims sometimes missed the pain. Murdoc was no stranger to that, his occasional male hookups throughout the years could confirm. Weren't his proudest moments, that. He could remember, vividly, how he'd begged them for pain, for them to smack him, kick him, hurt him in any way they could, all while he called them "daddy" or "father" - depending on his mood. Some had straight up left him there, begging on the floor, others had pretended to be into it. Two or three of them had actually been into it, had hurt him the way he wanted them to, and even though it stung, it always scratched that itch deep inside him.
He wouldn't test that theory, though. If he was wrong, he'd make everything worse, and 2D would probably be about ready to strangle him. But he didn't want that outside of sex, so he'd better just wait and see if 2D wanted to tell him what the problem was. Yeah.
-
It was already dark out when Murdoc spotted 2D on the balcony. He was hunched over the railing, foot tapping a gentle rhythm, completely lost in space. Not an unusual sight, really, but the bottle of whiskey resting on the chair told more of the story than Murdoc wanted to know. 2D never drank alcohol straight from the bottle, unless he was achingly desperate to get drunk and forget something. Not a good sign. But if Murdoc wanted to talk, he'd have to lure the singer inside. He wasn't in any mood to be pushed off of a third floor balcony today, or, well, ever.
He walked up to the glass door and tapped gently. 2D flinched, but didn't respond.
"Oi, astronaut, come back inside. If y'pass out you'll crack your bloody skull open." Murdoc grumbled, hoping to catch 2D's attention this time. No such luck.
"Do ya want some tea? I could make you a cuppa. Just got to get off that balcony, yeah?" he tried, hoping the offer would be enough to snap 2D out of whatever daze he was in. Murdoc waited a few seconds, but still, nothing happened. Alright, he was done waiting.
"Fuck's sake- get yer flat ass in here, Dents!" Murdoc barked as he slammed the door open and yanked 2D inside by the back of his shirt collar. "Where is your fucking head!? Why didn't you listen to me!? If you fall asleep there you'll die, y'bloody twat. Don't do it again." he growled, holding 2D close to him, their noses almost touching. He looked mad - but he was just concerned for 2D's well being, really.
2D blinked up at Murdoc, his black eyes slowly flickering to white, then back to black, and slowly, very slowly back to white. White was good, it meant he was sobering up a little. He'd be easier to talk to.
Murdoc slowly let go, letting him find his balance on his own. "There you are. Don't scare me like that again." Murdoc said, a heavy sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his sweaty fringe. 2D blinked at him stupidly, mouth open like a fish out of water.
It took another minute or so before 2D finally spoke: "Sod off."
Murdoc rolled his eyes and took a step closer. "No. I won't. I want to talk, alright? And I want an explanation for... this," he gestured to 2D's swaying body, "because I 'aven't seen you this drunk since you got into my stash on Plastic Beach that one time."
2D huffed, crossing his arms and hunching his back. "None of yer business. I can do wha'ever I want, I'm a grown man."
"Well, you certainly don't look like it right now. Ye're pouting like child, for fuck's sake." Murdoc shot back, still gesturing in 2D's direction. "It's bloody irritatin', I'll have you know."
"So what? Just go... sacrifice pickles t'Satan or wha'ever you normally do. 'N' leave me alone!" 2D whined, tapping his foot again. God - he was acting like a stubborn child.
"I've never even done that. Look, Dents, just tell me what's wrong with ya, please. I want to fix... whatever this is. I can't stand it any longer. You're my best mate, yeah? And... I want to know what's botherin' ya. I actually care, believe it or not."
That got Murdoc a stunned look from 2D. Okay, they were getting somewhere. Small steps.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?"
2D looked at the floor, his foot no longer tapping. He looked... guilty, almost. Like a dog caught chewing up the couch.
"... I miss when it was just us, Mudz. Like on Plastic Beach. 'Cause when you fucked me, I-... I felt like... y'actually wanted... me... Even if it hurt," 2D admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. "'n' I know it's never gonna be like tha' again, but I thought- y'know... If you hurt me again... tha's the closest thing to it, innit..?"
Ah. So Murdoc's theory was right. 2D did miss the abuse.
He sighed.
"I'd never hurt you like that again, alright? But... we can try the sex again if y'want," he offered, holding his arms out to 2D.
"That'd be nice..." 2D muttered, a small, sad smile forming on his face. He collapsed onto Murdoc, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"But only when you're sober."
"Aw, Mudz..!"