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Murdoc's eyes are still closed and he's more than half asleep when he feels the cold touch of lips against his own.
He doesn't panic, no. He recognizes them.
The skin against his was soft. Cool like the morning dew, and smelled like vanilla. A few strands of hair tickle his skin. The touch was gentle, careful — trying not to wake him up. He can't help the silly smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
Then that sudden doubt kicks in, churning in his stomach. It always does.
But it used to be worse. Despite Murdoc thinking it impossible, 2D somehow managed to slowly soften this grumpy old man. With effort, of course, and time, a whole lot of it, but they've been doing quite the good job, to Murdoc's disbelief. Good enough that, in moments like these, he can pretty consistently force himself to stay in the moment and not let his drifting mind get the best of him. So, when his smile fails, he opens his eyes.
2D is resting. Lying on his side, facing Murdoc with one hand under the pillow. His eyelashes flutter, the faintest of smiles on his lips. Their hair, messy and sticking up everywhere, falls on their face, bright blue against their pale skin, illuminated only by the warm light of the rising sun peeking through the curtains.
The sight alone is enough to calm Murdoc's racing heart, reminding him of exactly who he's with. He could stare at his frontman for hours on end. He does, sometimes. It's not for nothing that, of all people, Murdoc would always go to Stuart specifically for comfort and company. Something about their presence is inherently soothing to him, always has been, like warm tea for a sore throat.
Where would he be without them?
Stuck in a winnie in Trent? Drunk at a random hotel, passed out in a ditch somewhere?
He doesn't know. And he doesn't care, because, for once in his insane, fucked up life, there's actually nowhere else he'd rather be.
And that's scary, too, how comfortable he's gotten. He's not used to being comfortable. But he's felt happier the past few years than he felt for three full decades of his life. Maybe more, if he's being honest. And though he'll never understand why, though he'll never be able to fathom how he got so lucky, what he did to deserve any of this — 2D is happy, too.
They waited for this, waited for him, quietly, silently hoping Murdoc would feel the same, want the same, and that he'd be brave enough to try. He believed in Murdoc when Murdoc himself couldn't, over and over again. Believed him so much he waited all that time. And maybe that's just what Murdoc needed — someone to believe in him, to want him so badly they choose to stay by his side through thick and thin, through his lows and his even lowers. Because, though he may not know why, he was, eventually, brave enough.
Maybe he does know, he realizes, as he studies Stu's soft features. Nothing in this world can make Murdoc feel brave quite like 2D does. If they're by his side, he feels he may be capable of just about anything.
"Your eyes're burnin' into me, Muds." The bassist hears the smile in 2D's voice before he sees it, snapped out of his thoughts. He blinks, then laughs, shifting to lay on his side properly.
"I've got an angel in bed with me," he whispers, "can't blame me for staring."
2D giggles, his eyebrows furrowing, showing off his dimples and missing teeth, and it makes Murdoc feel all fuzzy and stupid.
He knows how much his singer likes being called that. His angel. It's one of the first things Murdoc called him. The first thing he thought of him, really, when he caught sight of that pretty face and those hollow eyes. He says it jokingly, but he means it, if just a little bit. 2D is the closest to paradise he'll ever get, a little piece of heaven at his fingertips.
He tucks a strand of hair behind their ear, tracing their cheek gently. And they give him a look through their eyelashes that takes Murdoc's breath away.
In moments like these, there is no room for doubt in Murdoc's heart. 2D's bright eyes and gentle smile as he looks at his band mate spell out love with the same hush of someone yelling it into a megaphone. Murdoc feels more than a little silly over how long it took him to realize that.
He closes the distance between them, mirroring 2D's earlier move. Murdoc knows his breath must be terrible right now, but 2D pays it no mind, humming happily into the kiss and resting his arm over Murdoc's bicep. They stay like that for a while, kissing quietly, all chaste and soft, not escalating like it usually does. Then Murdoc pulls back, a sudden burst of energy in his chest that he releases through kisses all over Stu's face, leaving him giggling and snorting funnily, before nearly crushing him in a hug.
Burying their face in his chest, 2D gives a deep, contented sigh, one of those that fill up your lungs and relax your whole body. Murdoc wraps his arms around them, smiling against their hair, thanking any and every higher force that could've had a hand in sending this person into his life. That 25 years ago, when he was just trying to rob some guy's keyboard shop, of all people, 2D would be standing there, cannot possibly be just coincidence. Someone moved a chess piece somewhere, and Murdoc is glad, oh, he's so glad they did.
2D snuggles up in Murdoc's arms. "Your heart's so loud..." They whisper, barely audible to Murdoc, who huffs out a laugh. "You ok?" They ask, and Muds is sure they can hear the beat his heart skips at the question.
"Yeah," he answers honestly. "Yeah, I am." Finally, he refrains from saying. Stu holds him closer.
"I like i'," they say, before adding, "the sound, I mean. It's nice." Murdoc's brows furrow.
"The sound of my heart is nice?"
"Mhmm."
Murdoc grins, amused. He can't say he understands, but if it makes 2D happy, it makes him happy, too.
They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the rustling of the wind on the branches and leaves outside as the morning birds chirp and sing. Murdoc is warm while 2D is cool, both cozy under the sheets, even in 2D's slightly awkward position to stay lower than Murdoc despite being taller.
"...'s way too early," Stu croaks, sleepiness evident in his voice.
"Hmm," Murdoc hums in agreement. "Sleep."
Shifting, 2D untangles from the embrace to face the other way, letting Murdoc pull them in, their back to his chest. They may be taller, but Murdoc is broader, and his arms sit comfortably around their body, fit like puzzle pieces. 2D likes being held, Murdoc knows. The warmth and the steadiness give him a sense of safety, something he doesn't feel too often in his rocky life.
Murdoc also knows that, right here, with 2D's coconut conditioner filling his lungs and the softness of their skin under his fingers, their hand placed gently over his, thumb moving in a loving caress, he himself feels something he may have never felt before.
Peace.
This is what peace feels like. It's comfortable in his arms, pressed against his chest, calm in the early morning.
And he doesn't plan on letting go of it anytime soon.