Chapter Text
Murdoc hadn't had a chance to read the letter properly. Honestly, he was amazed it had managed to find him; somewhere in the maze of forwarding addresses and dead ends he'd set up, something wasn't working right.
SUMMONS FOR NON-PAYMENT OF PARKING TICKETS.
How the fuck had they tracked him down? This place was meant to be all hidden away to protect Albarn from all the Oasis fans who wanted to kick his teeth in, so Murdoc had assumed that he was safe from the consequences of his actions.
He scanned the letter, ignoring the— absolutely ridiculous— amount owed, right to the terms and conditions. Murdoc had seen his fair share of these; normally they gave you 21 days to reply and pay up, and threatened bailiffs and the like. Good luck with that… Except this one was a bit different. A custom job— unusual, but Murdoc supposed he was a special case.
If you keep ignoring these you will be facing a custodial sentence, Murdoc Faust Niccals… And Jesus fucking Christ, what's wrong with you? How did you get that Vauxhall Astra into the Diana Memorial Fountain? Why? She was the people's princess, have some respect… We'll fucking find you, you prick, just you wait.
"Oopsie daisy." Murdoc crumpled it up before tossing the letter under his bed, where it could stay with all the others. He had other stuff to think about. Halloween was this Saturday, and that was important.
Halloween meant Halloween parties, and Halloween parties meant costumes, and while Murdoc was always up for a bit of fancy dress… This thing with Dents added a whole new set of variables into the equation. Murdoc would have loved for Faceache to be in some slutty little number designed to be worn once then forgotten on a bedroom floor, but all of those were off-limits because 2D wasn't that kind of guy. He'd fucking loved dressing up as a Mummy all those years back; he was like a little kid, but that didn't align with Murdoc's priorities… And if they ended up wrapping Dents up again then how the fuck would they be able to do anything fast and sneaky if they got a chance?
Mummies were a no-go. Murdoc would probably end up being a vampire, given that he already owned several capes, and they couldn't match. Murdoc grumbled, having to rummage through his bedclothes to find his mobile phone, then scroll down to his messages with 2D. They didn't text much; they weren't stupid. Journos were scum these days, hacking phones and all sorts, and you could never be too careful… It was all nondescript; have you seen my keys, are you having dinner with us tonight, I need to go down the laundromat… Just once Murdoc wished he could send Dents some utter filth, but he knew he wasn't lucky enough to get away with it.
whatre you being for halloween?
Maybe they should get burner phones, purely for what the kids called sexting. Couldn't do it the old fashioned way, given the thin walls in this stupid place, but Murdoc would be up for sending Dents 🤫😏😉🥒💦 and seeing what he made of it. Or just pictures of his knob. Faceache asked to see it enough… What was that saying, take a picture, it'll last longer?
There was a soft knock on his door, before it swung inwards and 2D poked his head in, eyebrows raised in a curious expression. "Zombie, prolly. Why?"
"Of course you are. Should have known. Got any ciggies on you?" Murdoc sat up a little straighter, patting the bed beside him. Dents moved tentatively, like a deer stepping out into a clearing, and Murdoc wanted to be a wolf so badly it hurt. Instead he let 2D sit down and dig a battered cigarette packet out of his pocket, offering it to Murdoc. "My hero. Gotta buy some more later, but thought I might head to that big supermarket."
The door clicked closed, and Murdoc stuck the fag he'd nicked behind one ear so he could cup 2D's cheek, turn his head and kiss him. It was really easy to get Dents to agree to anything if Murdoc snogged him a bit first, but it also turned out that Murdoc quite liked swapping spit with 2D in and of itself. Something about it made him go a little giddy, but he'd been very careful not to mention it to Dents specifically.
He was also careful to stop snogging before the tickly feeling became full-on randiness. If he got hard all bets were off; they'd be rattling his bedframe faster than you could say plasterboard, and then there'd be band meetings and accusations and whatnot. 2D still opened his eyes slowly, a crooked little grin making his eyes go crinkly at the corners. "Always surprises me when you do tha'."
"Good. Gotta keep you on your toes… If you've gotta be a zombie can't you, I dunno, tart it up a bit?" Murdoc let his hand settle on 2D's thigh, rubbing just above his knee, before deciding that he was being too risky by far and instead grabbing a lighter that was conveniently placed beside his deflated-looking pillow. Technically they weren't meant to smoke inside, but Albarn knew what he was getting into when he said Murdoc could keep on staying here, and he needed to redo this floor anyway. Soundproof it a bit. He lit up, taking a drag before blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth, away from 2D. "Be a bit sexy, y'know? And wear something easy to get on and off, just in case we get a chance to sneak away and get a bit frisky."
"Hm." 2D was pulling his thinking face, scratching at the side of his neck. "But if I do that, an' we do that… Won't you get, like, fake blood an' face paint an' stuff all over?"
"… I hate it when you're right." No vampire, then, the fake blood was a vital part of the look… And no zombie, unless they were going to lose time shagging in order to redo the theatrical makeup. Murdoc slumped back, glad of the cigarette; he was smoking it too fast, taking heavy drags in an attempt to help himself think. It wasn't working. "You told anyone else about the zombie thing?"
"Nah. Figured it was a bit obvious…" 2D shrugged, and Murdoc felt good ol' irritation prickling the back of his neck. He'd expected their little arrangement to make him less annoyed by Dents, but most of the time it was the opposite… The change was how he wanted to vent his feelings. Before it had been the thought of shoving 2D down a flight of stairs or maybe shooting him into space, but now all Murdoc wanted was to bend Dents over and make him squeal. It didn't even make sense to be annoyed by 2D keeping his plans to himself, it was an overall win for Team Murdoc-getting-some, but the heart wanted what it wanted… And the dick wanted even more. "I can find somefink. We live in London, innit, loads of shops sellin' Halloween stuff."
He should have told Dents to come and show him the costume first, but that would have been too much like being clever. In all fairness, they'd also been interrupted by the landing door opening and Russel's heavy footsteps going down the hall, although he'd been chatting on his phone so the overall risk was minimal. It had still spooked them both; Murdoc had been left alone while 2D sneaked away as if they'd been doing something wrong by being alone together.
To be fair, it was the alone in Murdoc's room together with the door shut thing rather than just being unchaperoned, but it had still felt highly unfair. How the fuck was Murdoc meant to know that he'd scuppered his chances of unquestioned privacy with Dents through all those years of being a bastard? It was one thing to say that he'd reaped what he'd sown, but Murdoc had never been informed of what he was planting, and he was a bass player, not a fucking farmer.
So if anything it was a miracle Murdoc didn't spontaneously combust when he came clattering into the Studio 13 living space and saw 2D sitting on the sofa in a fucking cheerleader outfit. Murdoc did stop so abruptly that his cowboy hat almost fell off, but that could be explained by general shock rather than sudden raging horniness. Noodle laughed; she was stood behind the sofa, futilely trying to get 2D's hair to behave, but she pointed the hairbrush in his direction. "Hah! Halloween surprise!"
Russel was poking about in the kitchen, emptying packets of sweets into a cheap plastic mixing bowl, but he turned to snicker at Murdoc. His costume was low-effort; his boxing gear, gloves dangling around his neck, and Murdoc wished he could call that out without the risk of getting knocked on his arse. "Look at his face. Like he's seen a ghost."
"Thought I had, what with Dents' pasty legs." Murdoc tried to give 2D a withering glance while also trying to psychically project how he really felt about those legs directly into the hollows of 2D's skull. He'd be under that skirt like a ferret up a drainpipe if he got a chance; Murdoc was holding himself back from going feral. "Nothing in the men's section fit, Dents?"
"Actually, yeh." 2D tugged at the hem of his top, shifting uncomfortably and looking at the floor. It didn't help Murdoc's restraint; Dents all reluctant was basically pornography in that getup. Why did they all need to be going together? Murdoc kept cycling rapidly through a weird version of the five stages of grief, except he was mourning the lack of immediate gratification. "Me an' Noodle went out t'that fancy dress shop, but all of it was one size fits all."
"Too wide and too short." Noodle nodded, casually hopping over the back of the sofa to sit next to 2D and pat his hand. "It is not 2D's fault. He is, um, willowy. When he tries the trousers on they show all his ankles, then they fall down. But the ladies costumes fit. They are smaller, but also stretchy."
"Ah. Well, guess we can't all be primo specimens of manhood." Murdoc hazarded a glance to Russel, who ignored him. Excellent. "What about you, Noodle? Who are you dressed up as?"
"She's Ryu from Street Fighter. Just gotta put her little head tie thing on." 2D seemed far more excited by that than by his own costume, but Murdoc supposed there was a chance his telepathy hadn't worked, given that he wasn't actually telepathic. "An' you're—"
"A cowboy, yeah, and save any Brokeback Mountain jokes til later. Didn't fancy breaking out the ol' stage makeup, and I had the hat lying about." Murdoc tugged the hat lower over his eyes before striking a pose, hands poised to grab imaginary guns from his imaginary holsters. "This town ain't big enough for the both of us, et cetera. What time's the taxi getting here?"
Murdoc had a newfound appreciation for loud music. The bass-heavy club tracks the DJ was spinning weren't anything special, but the volume meant leaning in close to talk was a necessity… And that meant he could put a hand on 2D's shoulder, lean in close, and say what he wanted to.
"You look like you're having fun."
2D jumped, almost knocking over the spooky cocktail the bartender had just put in front of him, before flashing Murdoc a tentative grin, leaning towards Murdoc's ear but keeping a little distance. "S'a good party. Been dancin'. You enjoyin' yourself?"
Murdoc knew 2D had been dancing. Murdoc had been watching as Dents and Noodle bounced around together, utterly ignoring the other Industry Faces trying to cut in. A few models had been trying to get Dents' attention for a while, but he'd been in his own little world. Good. Murdoc didn't fancy watching 2D feeling up some woman who'd skipped the queue; if he hadn't been so conscious of being seen Murdoc would have grabbed 2D's waist instead of his shoulder, but plausible deniability dictated that anything lower than his collarbone was off-limits where other people could see… And the brim of his hat meant that Murdoc couldn't get in as close to Dents' ear as he wanted. Also a good thing, because his teeth felt itchy. "Be having a better time if I had my hand up your skirt. You shoulda warned me, Faceache."
"Huh?" 2D actually looked puzzled, and Murdoc dug his nails into his shoulder. Dents was warm, damp with sweat, and Murdoc wanted to cut him open and clamber bodily inside. "Warn ya… Whattabout?"
"I'm going to make this very clear, Dents." The brim of Murdoc's cowboy hat was pressed so hard against the side of 2D's head that it threatened to crease, but Murdoc needed to speak quietly and urgently and intently. "If you ever put on a slutty little miniskirt again, you need to march your arse right into my room and bend over before you do anything else."
"But what if you ain't in your room?" 2D looked genuinely confused, picking up his drink and taking a tentative sip. Murdoc blinked at him, momentarily dumbfounded by how someone so thick could be so fucking sexy, before spotting Noodle. She was looking at them curiously, and Murdoc rolled his eyes before pressing two fingers to his mouth. It was an effective way of miming smoke break, and she nodded; Murdoc sighed, before turning his attention back to 2D. He was still a bit confused, bless him.
"C'mon, D. Fag break. I'll spot you." Murdoc nodded towards one of the neon green exit signs that were bright spots in the dark; the party was in an old warehouse in an industrial part of London, a top-secret invite-only sort of affair, which meant that there ought to be plenty of quiet nooks and crannies for an enterprising gentleman to make use of. 2D nodded, before doing his best to down his cocktail. Even better. A drunken Faceache was an open-minded Faceache.
"The smokin' area's all the way back that way, Muds… I dunno if we should be here."
The dingy alleyway between two large rectangular buildings wasn't especially romantic, but Murdoc couldn't see any CCTV cameras, and there was a skip wedged in the entrance that'd hide them from the street… Plus it was blocked off with a wooden fence midway down, and while there were a few bins it seemed like they'd been emptied recently. All in all, it could be far worse.
"Nah, D, down 'ere. Don't fancy talking to all that lot— record execs and all that, probably off their tits on coke. They'll wanna go on and on about investing and stuff." Murdoc had one last look about before squeezing past the skip. 2D followed, far more slowly. "You look chilly."
"I am a bit. S'October an' all. Glad it ain't raining… Nice of you t'think about me, Muds. No pockets… Dunno how girls do it." 2D folded his arms, rubbing them as he looked around the small open space then back to Murdoc, suspicion finally taking hold. "Wait… We ain't here to smoke, are we?"
"Well, figured we'd have a fag or two after—"
2D might be slow on the uptake, but he made up for it in other ways. He'd grabbed Murdoc by the front of his jacket, yanking him over with surprising strength and kissing him so hard it felt a bit like a slap. The fun sort of slap, though, and Murdoc only needed a moment to start shoving Dents towards the nearest wall… Then stopped, letting 2D go and bringing everything to an abrupt halt.
"Muds?"
"Let go for a sec." Murdoc wriggled free of it, before holding it up between them. "Go on. Get it on. That wall's brick, Faceache. Can't have you going back in looking like you've been sanded… Or with frostbite."
"Aw." 2D actually looked touched, although that might have been a trick of the light; dim orange from distant streetlamps that filtered through the alleyway entrance and meant it was just bright enough to see. He turned, threading his arms through the jacket sleeves before turning back to face Murdoc; the sleeves sat way too high on Dents' wrists, but there was something nice about the sight of 2D in his jacket that Murdoc did his best to ignore. "Fank you, Muds… It's all warm."
"S'just a jacket." Murdoc sidled forwards to settle his hands on 2D's hips and move him backwards until he bumped into the wall. Dents was fiddling with the little pearl-effect buttons of Murdoc's shirt, hesitant to actually unfasten them. Probably a good thing; although Murdoc ran warm, it was still a late October night in London. "Gotta be fast, Faceache, before anyone notices we're gone."
He let his hands drop to 2D's bare thighs, then slid them up beneath the pleated skirt. Dents was wearing his normal underwear— Murdoc had thought so, but hadn't had the brass bollocks to try to look up 2D's skirt— and… Well, if he was honest, Murdoc quite liked it. Not that he'd be opposed to Dents pulling out all the stops, but there was a certain appeal in the half-arsedness of the costume. It wasn't 2D pretending to be a girl, it was 2D in a short skirt and tight vest top, with fuzzy legs and those tickly little hairs on his upper lip. Also— and Murdoc was very glad about it— he didn't feel guilty about tugging 2D's boxer briefs down far enough that gravity took over and did the rest of his work for him. If 2D had some actual lacy lingerie on, Murdoc might have been a gent and pulled it over to one side or something, but that was a step away from reinventing the wedgie.
2D gasped, eyelids heavy again, before pulling Murdoc's mouth back to his. Dents tasted sticky-sweet, blue raspberry and the faintest bite of booze clinging to his tongue; Murdoc was going to get himself one of those cocktails when they got back in, and let himself remember this… But they had to be fast. Fast was proving to be the bane of his existence. Murdoc didn't want fast but it was a quickie or nothing, and they couldn't just snog until things progressed naturally. What if Russ or Noodle came looking for them? Or someone came stumbling past and decided that their little nook seemed like the perfect spot for a piss? Or what if Dents got hypothermia?
Even with all of that, Murdoc couldn't quite bring himself to stop. He'd start to pull back before finding himself unable to actually commit to the next step, until eventually it was 2D who turned his face away. Their breath clouded on the air, Murdoc lurching forwards to scatter kisses up 2D's neck. 2D groaned softly before nudging Murdoc back. "Lemme turn 'round?"
"No lube, Faceache… Reckon you can take it with just spit?"
Murdoc was sceptical, and 2D shook his head, already trying to unbuckle Murdoc's belt. "Nah, but can't hurt tryin', can it?"
It could hurt trying, but there was that phrase… Necessity is the mother of invention, or where there's a will, there's a way… Or perhaps an unholy combination of the two had led to what had initially been a compromise before proving far better than their thwarted attempts at actual fucking. 2D's knock-kneed legs were pressed tight together as he braced against the wall, Murdoc's cock nestled snugly between his thighs. Murdoc had originally wanted to get Dents by the hair, but there was just something compelling about messing about under that skirt. Murdoc was fine and dandy humping away— going by 2D's garbled attempts at speech it was doing something for him too, just not as much as direct and targeted finger pressure would have— so it had seemed polite to get hold of 2D's bollocks with one hand and stroke his dick with the other. Keep him warm and get him off, a nice little two-birds-one-stone situation.
Plus it was nice to think about the aftermath of this. 2D was going to be a real mess for the rest of the night, and Murdoc would get back to propping up the bar so he could watch Dents try to be normal. The thought made him thrust faster, hissing air in through gritted teeth as 2D pushed back against him. "Wan' you t'… Lemme know how it feels… Talkin' to people with my spunk all over you—"
2D muffled a yelp against the sleeve of Murdoc's jacket before looking back over his shoulder with a wide-mouthed smile. Murdoc couldn't help but grin back before his face decided to do its own thing, going back to that confused-pained-surprised expression that tended to herald the beginning of the end, as it were... And Murdoc knew what that smile meant, what 2D needed, and he leaned forwards and really put his back into it.
"Knowin' that you can't take any of them girls home 'cause the moment they go to get your dick out they'll know what you've been up to, sweetheart… But you wouldn't wanna anyway, would you? 'Cause you're my Faceache, an' I luh—"
"Murdoc? 2D? Are you out here?" Noodle's voice was echoey and distant, so at least they hadn't been found, but it still felt incredibly wrong to be doing this anywhere near the kid. Not that Murdoc could have continued; his dick had decided to make a quick escape so it would have been like trying to prod Dents with an uncooked sausage. "Hello?"
2D had also softened almost instantaneously in Murdoc's hand, and there was no time for even the barest hint of sadness; 2D had already started pulling his underwear back up as Murdoc turned away from the mouth of the alley, trying to shove his dick back into his jeans and failing miserably.
"Murdoc?"
He looked back over his shoulder; Noodle was standing in the car park that the alleyway opened onto, and she could see him, but Dents was still hunched over behind the skip… And Murdoc's heart was racing. "Er, don't come over 'ere, Noodle, I was about to have a slash. You seen Dents anywhere, luv? Tosspot's borrowed my jacket and I want it back."
"Ah, no…" Noodle shook her head, and Murdoc sighed. 2D had sunken into a proper crouch and it was very hard not to look at him. "He was with you?"
"Yeah, said I'd let him borrow a ciggy— with interest, of course— and he was getting a bit shivery so… Don't want the little shit getting ill, not when he's got vocals to record. Bad enough when we did Clint Eastwood, eh? Sniffling and sneezing all over the place." Murdoc grimaced, glad he was facing away from Dents; for the first time in his life he was feeling a bit pee-shy, but Noodle was used to him not caring. He turned away with a grunt, spotting a drainpipe and aiming for the gutter beneath it. Nowhere near his usual power, but if Noodle got suspicious because Murdoc wasn't pissing like a mule-firehose hybrid then she was the weirdo here. He had to raise his voice over the hiss and splatter, which would hopefully make this whole conversation gross enough for Noodle to go away. "Ah… If you see him, tell him I want my jacket back once he's inside. Not my fault he decided to wear fuck-all, it's almost November."
"Yes. I will keep looking. If you see him, tell him I am looking for him." Noodle's feet scuffed on the tarmac, and Murdoc let out a purposefully loud groan as she turned tail without saying goodbye, clearly wanting to give him some space.
2D waited til Murdoc was done to straighten up, standing as still and silent as a ghost as Murdoc shook off and zipped up. They made awkward eye contact; 2D had both hands clasped over his mouth, as if he was scared he'd make a noise and summon Noodle again. Murdoc pulled a face. "Didn't splash you, did I?"
2D shook his head, shoulders starting to shake. Murdoc squinted at him; Dents was facing away from the light, his face a mystery, and for a moment he was worried 2D might be crying… Before familiar wheezy giggles spilled through his fingers, and he reached out to lean on Murdoc. "Never… Never thought I'd be glad t'see you pissin', Muds…"
"Oi, I broke the seal for you. I'll be nipping off for a leak every five minutes now." Murdoc winced, before gathering himself and trying not to look disappointed. "Check the pockets. May as well have a smoke while we're out here."
Back to thudding music and crowds. Murdoc was in a sour mood, trying to ignore the gentle ache in his bollocks. Getting blueballed always left him feeling a vague throbbing in that general area; it made him think of WW2 films. All his little swimmers poised to go over the top, all anxious and bouncing off the walls inside his balls… Something like that, anyway. He was too old for it, but that didn't make his nuts any less grumpy.
Dents was dancing with Noodle again, and Murdoc was nursing one those sugary cocktails despite knowing it would turbocharge the following day's hangover. He needed to think, because he wasn't about to hedge his bets on Russ and Noodle deciding to stay out all night. When they'd toured Japan, all those years back, there'd been those love hotels all over the big cities; why had nobody come up with one of those in London?
Maybe someone should.
Maybe Murdoc should, and then he'd be rolling in cash. He'd be able to buy himself a new Winnebago so he and Dents could test the suspension and— back to the plan.
Or lack thereof.
He was mired deep in thought when 2D toppled onto the barstool beside him, almost falling off of it before giving Murdoc a conciliatory grin. "Me an' Noodle're prolly gonna head home in a sec. S'a bit crowded for 'er an' them suits are gettin' a bit weird... You wanna come wiv?"
"Might as well. None of the birds here are really my type— models an' that, more trouble than they're worth. What about Russel? Or is he—"
"He already left. Off with that girl he's been seein', apparently her mates are havin' a party." 2D looked a little sad about that, and Murdoc nodded. It was sad that Russel was putting space between himself and the rest of them… But that wasn't true, he was putting space between himself and Murdoc, and that wasn't a conversation to be having here. "Noodle said she'd gettus a taxi. Be easier, seein' as we won't need one of them big ones if it's just us three."
"Yeah. Yeah, that's alright." Murdoc pushed his drink away, sliding off his barstool with a groan. "C'mon then. Gotta protect those label wankers… Noodle'll end up breaking their fingers if they get too cheeky, and she's not ten anymore. Don't fancy needing to bail her out if they snitch."
Noodle had fallen asleep in the cab on the way home. Murdoc hadn't expected it, but when they'd pulled up outside Studio 13 — and he'd paid with actual money— the overhead light in the cab revealed her purple-stained lips. Those cocktails had been lethal; Murdoc was glad he hadn't finished his. Drinks like that always had way more booze in them than you could taste. It was why Murdoc preferred beer for casual drinking; you knew what you were getting with a pint.
It was sweet that Dents could still pick her up on his back, just like the old days, but Murdoc let them go up the stairs first just in case. If anyone had seen him holding tight to the bannisters— braced in case 2D and Noodle took a tumble— very few people would have believed them, but Murdoc didn't especially care about the opinions of the general public… And he could look up Dents' skirt from his vantage point, so it wasn't a purely selfless act.
"Can you 'elp me getter into bed?" 2D hefted Noodle a little higher as they reached the landing by the living quarters, and she mumbled something in Japanese before hiding her face against the side of 2D's neck. "She ain't heavy but I can't get the doors an' all without lettin' go."
"Yeah… Move over a bit, then. I'll go first."
Through the hall, Murdoc flicking on lights as they went— not too many, just enough to see by— and then up the stairs towards the bedrooms, holding the doors so 2D could shuffle through until they reached Noodle's door. Murdoc pushed it open, lingering there as 2D headed inside and then turned around to reverse Noodle towards the bed. "Gotta get 'er shoes off an' stuff… Think she'll be alright sleepin' in her costume?"
"Yeah, they're basically pajamas… Gonna go have a smoke." Murdoc couldn't stay, because he was growing more and more aware that they were functionally alone here. He couldn't get his hopes up, not after earlier, because Noodle might wake up a bit and decide she didn't want to go to bed while 2D was tucking her in. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility; she and Dents would probably be on the sofa watching something gory in half an hour, and Murdoc could watch with them… Or he could get himself all worked up with expectations and then go and be a sulky Norman No-Mates in his room. Murdoc swallowed, biting back a sarcastic little laugh. He'd really shot himself in the fucking foot, starting this, but he couldn't regret a thing other than the lack of privacy. "You tired?"
"Nah…" 2D looked over at him, a smile quirking one corner of his mouth. "Could stick a film on or somethink, seein' as it's Halloween."
"Might as well. You can pick— I'm not really fussed one way or the other." Murdoc eased the door closed, heading down the hallway and back to the dimly-lit living room.
The Studio Garden had a big hammock in it— big enough to easily support Russel, so Murdoc in it alone was basically luxurious. It was chilly, but he didn't really feel it; he'd nicked a saucer from the kitchen to use as an ashtray, balancing it on his stomach as he stared up at the cloudy night sky. He could remember Albarn saying something about making sure it was private out here for anyone using the Studio, which was handy if someone had a bit of the ol' wacky-baccy and fancied sharing. Of course Murdoc wasn't getting stoned, he was just having a minute.
The sound of the sliding doors opening and then quietly closing again made him smile, closing his eyes. He could hear quiet footsteps; he knew it was 2D. Could have picked his walk out of a lineup, sorta shambling like that stoner off of Scooby Doo.
"Hello, Dents."
"Eya, Muds. Mind if I get in there wiv ya?" Murdoc opened one eye. 2D had one of the hippy blankets from the living room wrapped around him, but he still looked cold. Murdoc nodded, wriggling over a little and stretching out one arm. He'd left his jacket and cowboy hat inside, and 2D had gotten changed; he had to unwrap himself to get into the hammock. Bye-bye, Halloween fun… But it was nice to have 2D flopped beside him, using his arm as a pillow. Murdoc stubbed his cigarette out on the saucer, dropping it off the hammock onto the astroturf. There was no sound of smashing crockery, but even if there had been… That was tomorrow's problem. He tugged 2D's blanket over them both, their body heat combining beneath it although Dents wasn't contributing much to that. "Fanks… Wish I was warm like you are, Muds."
"Nah, you don't, else how'd I warm you up?" Murdoc squeezed 2D a little closer to him, before leaning his cheek against the top of Dents' head. "What a fucking waste of a party, eh?"
"I 'ad fun. Even if we couldn'…" 2D shivered as if someone had walked over his grave, before gingerly stretching an arm over, his hand coming to rest high on Murdoc's chest. This probably counted as cuddling, and overall… It was nice. "Need another weekend or somefink, Muds, I'm gonna go mental if we can't get away forra bit."
"You and me both, Faceache. You and me both."
They lay there in companionable silence, and Murdoc wondered why he wasn't making any moves on Dents. It wasn't the hammock, Murdoc would have railed 2D six ways from Sunday on the side of Mount Everest if the chance had arisen, but this was nice. Fulfilling. He didn't want to ruin the moment, which was probably proof that 2D was a witch or something.
"Been, erm, writin' some lyrics that I think're about you." 2D swallowed, and Murdoc did his best to stay still. Part of him wanted to say it was too much, too soppy, but far more of him wanted to know what song— he'd heard the vocals 2D had been recording, but he didn't know the exact words. Maybe they hadn't even been sung yet, but curiosity won this one.
"Go on, then. Sing 'em."
"Really?" 2D pushed himself up, setting the hammock rocking, and Murdoc nodded. "Awright… Uh…" He cleared his throat, settling back against Murdoc's side. He was counting a beat in his head, fingers moving as he pressed imaginary piano keys; it reminded Murdoc of those old-school mediums who'd claim to go into trances, except when 2D sang it was like he was someone else. No hesitance, no uncertainty, just his husky voice quiet in the London night. "Where do they come from? The wires that connect to us, weightless, and fall on your body? Til we're invisible… I'm with you throughout it, choose busted an' blue… All my life, all my life… Be my light on me, I'm a satellite and I can't get back without you… An' that's most of it."
It was a sad little tune, but Murdoc found himself feeling oddly giddy. Something slipped inside him— a small something, like a wonky curtain spilling electric light onto a dark street. Words he knew because he'd written them, unsure why he was suddenly waxing poetic but knowing the voice his words were for. The face he couldn't help imagining as he scrawled lyrics as if possessed. "D'you remember On Melancholy Hill, 2D?"
"Yeah…?"
"That one's about you." Murdoc had thought he'd twisted it a little. That the longing in it was intentional, something he'd tried to convey to sell the album, but he'd always been an excellent liar. "Sorry I made you sing it so much."
"S'alright." 2D's voice had thickened a little, but as long as he wasn't crying… That would be way too much, even for this new sentimental Murdoc who'd apparently taken over. "I like it a lot more than I used to now, Muds. Loads more."