Plastic Prison (Gorillaz fanfic) (2D x Murdoc)

Chapter 20

(2D's POV)

The only reason people ever go back to a toxic relationship is because they don't want to be alone.

They feel like they have no one else to turn to and it's the only way they'll ever be happy... or sane.

I don't love Murdoc, not by a long shot, put being alone here was more terrifying than the pain he could bring me. I'd rather hurt and be warm, than alone and frozen. In the cold solitary basement that felt like a life sentence.

And he was warm...

(Murdoc's POV)

I tried to deal with it, with him, like any other addiction. Tried to wait it out, quit cold turkey, anything I could to get my mind off of using it again. And then I'd relapse.

Heroine, coke, fuck it, I've done meth! Anything once... But you can't do it just once with someone like me. I needed the numb to take my thoughts away, but nothing was ever strong enough. I could either up the dose, or move to something harder, something that worked better, something that brought back the comfort of the numbing that buzzed through my brain!

And he was the strongest buzz of them all.

Something warm and numbing, that could take my mind away whenever I needed it to. And then it was taken away, and I couldn't control it, I needed more. And then the supply was gone.

And I tried to quit it. I really did.

But as soon as someone waved even the smell of it in front of me, I'd relapse. I needed it, I craved it...

And here he was. My forever supply, sitting right next to me, asking me to indulge in my twisted fantasy with almost every touch he made against me.

I think he was talking, or mumbling, or something, but I couldn't focus on anything. I just didn't want to move, or talk, or fuck this up like I had the last time this started.

I was the one that took it too far. I can... I can admit that.

I know this wouldn't go back to the how it was before, Stuart's made that as clear as possible, even when I wouldn't listen. But this could be close enough.

"Murdoc..."

This could be some kind of 'normal' again. Or something.

"Murdoc, I..." Shit, he's talking! "We can't go back to doing... how we were doing things. I-I-It's just torture to try and put up with, but now... Now's worse, an' I can't take it anymore."

Don't talk, don't fuck this up. I tried to look at him, but coming to terms with how we've been affecting one another made it hard to. Made it hard to look him in the eye. Made it hard to distinguish anger and regret and lust from one another anymore, because even a single glance at him had all of them shooting through me in sharp, painful bursts of emotion.

And I hated every look I gave him without being able to touch him.

He continued, "We can't keep avoiding one another... And, as much as I hate to admit it, we each have needs..." This was the same short speech he gave in the beginning. But I... Acted different this time.

This time I had that mad boil of regret and lust and...

And I kissed him.

His hand was still on my thigh, with his other in his lap... He wasn't facing me when he spoke, but I used my hand to pull him towards me.

He wasn't expecting it, at all.

He almost seemed to jump away at the sudden affection, but my hand weaved in his hair held him steady, and he seemed to fade into the kiss.

I didn't like not being in control, but other than holding him there, I couldn't do anything else that wouldn't risk whatever amount of trust I had gained back to deserve this. I didn't want him to leave again.

Human contact was something a being like me craved more than anything, and having myself stranded away on an island all by myself made me more desperate for it than anything else I've ever wanted. And him...

I wasn't thinking, and I found myself pinned to my own mattress, lips moving fast against mine. He seemed to be moving without thinking, trying to move faster than he could think. Faster than he could regret what his actions ment. Each move had less though put into it than the last, to the point where there was no emotion in the actions, just blind desire pooling in his ever darkening eyes. He tore off his shirt, throwing it who knows where, and leaving me to just stare at that perfect slender body. Thin legs staddles my waist in ways I hadn't felt in months.

He didn't bother with my shirt, he didn't care, but he started to slow down. And stutter in his movements when it came to his pants.

And it seemed like the whole weight of the situation just about slammed down on his shoulders like it's leave a bruise.

He still had some bruises. Marks that covered and infested his perfect porcelain skin. I don't regret those. I regret a lot of things I've done, but I don't regret those. A sick satisfaction washed over me every time I saw them, and I loved the fact that I had been the one who had done it to him.

"Stu-"

"Shut up."

"Y-You don' have ta-"

"I said shut up... Just..." He sat back on my pelvis, bringing his hands to his face, but leaving his eyes exposed so he could look at me. "Just... Let me think..."

Surprisingly, I wasn't hard. Fuck, I was more terrified than anything actually, but I could see him. My poor blue bird was straining through his jeans, presses hard against that zipper.

I reached for his pants, only to get my hand slapped away.

"No... I-I-I'm in control this time, or I swear..."

"You swear what?" Why would I taunt him like that?

"...I... I'll leave... You've gotten me here now, do you really want it to stop?" Ever word he said was unsure, but was as thought out as he could get in this moment.