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Stuart had always run cold. He supposed it came with the territory of being very tall and very thin, and his shit circulation probably didn't help. It was always a bit cold around Kong, today being no exception, and he had worn his The Clash t shirt over a long sleeve shirt and for good measure, a hoodie over that.
Murdoc seemed to never notice the cold, even on a chilly day like this he had walked around shirtless until mid afternoon. Maybe it's a satanist thing Stu pondered surely closer to hell means closer to heat. He tried not to feel jealous of Noodle, next to him on the sofa, perched on Murdoc's lap, and snuggled up warmly while playing her Gameboy as the bassist paid minimal attention to the television programs he switched between. She had even wrapped herself in his cape, draping it around her shoulders like a blanket and warming herself In the red silk lining. 2D told himself the urge he felt to sit closer was because of body heat alone.
He realized he had been zoning out for a while when Murdoc got up, putting a finger to his lips and gesturing to the sleeping Noodle in his arms. The bassist brought her up to her room and laid her in her own bed before returning downstairs. Stu thought about how little she was, it was easy to forget she was just a child with how smart she seemed.
“D’you fink we should put her in school?” He asked.
Murdoc scoffed. “Ain't a chance in hell. Couldn't do that to ‘er.”
“Why not?"
“Why not” He repeated to himself, exasperated.“She's too good to shove in some classroom with a bunch of little snot nosed bastards, that's why.”
“But… don't you fink she gets lonely? There ain't any otha kids around here.” 2D didn't understand why Muds had to get so agitated.
“She's got you, doesn't she, Dullard? Yer close enough to an eight year old.” He crossed his arms, now getting really pissed. And really, there was no need for Murdoc to get like this. It was just a question.
“Let’s ask Russ then.” The satanist grunted in response, stretched, and stalked off to god knows where without giving Stu’s opinion any more thought. As usual.
******
Later in the day, 2D still couldn’t seem to shake his bad mood.He had taken a few extra pills, trying unsuccessfully to blur out the mess of half-formed, confusing thoughts cluttering his head. He lay on his bed, facing the ceiling and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Stu was mildly surprised to feel the crinkle of paper against his hand. Pulling the object out, he scanned it for a moment before realizing it was the receipt from last night’s dinner. He felt a pang of something like sadness, remembering how nice things with Murdoc had been just a day ago. He wished they could be like that all the time, getting along, talking together, all laughter and smiles and comfortable silence. He liked being with Murdoc. He liked the idea that Murdoc could like him. Stuart internally scoffed at his own childish optimism. One night doesn’t change anything. The singer sighed and looked one last time at the receipt, almost throwing it away before noting the loopy handwriting in blue pen at the bottom.
Call Me, XOXO Sara
Her phone number was written underneath, with a messy heart written next to it for good measure. He smiled faintly, remembering the waitress’s unsubtle attempts at hitting on him. Stu didn’t really like her all that much, but it was almost sweet, in an innocent high school crush way. That’s exactly the problem. He thought. Girls liked 2D. Sure he was the prettyboy of the band, and he could be (almost) charming when he tried, but still, girls liked him. Clumsy one-night stands with college age groupies were the extent of his relationships. Women weren’t interested. They thought he was immature, and never seemed charmed with his conversation.
Murdoc though.
Women liked Murdoc. Easy ones sure, but still. Murdoc was… interesting. He was complicated and smart, he attracted interesting people. Maybe that’s why everyone stuck around him so much. He was smart. Interviewers asked him about complex topics- love, music, fame, ideologies, societal issues; they only ever asked 2D about movies, video games, and girls. Even then they didn’t seem too interested in what he had to say. He just wasn’t smart enough. The pills probably didn’t help.
He felt sick to his stomach. Of course Murdoc doesn’t like me… He thought. But he still kissed me, right?... No that doesn’t mean anything. Does it? This was all too complicated for him. It made his head hurt and his chest felt heavy like he was wearing a lead x ray vest. Stu sighed and looked at the phone number again. ‘Sara’ or whatever her name was, was just his type: blandly pretty, uncomplicated, and probably not looking for anyone too interesting. She thought he was attractive and that was good enough. He called her and made plans to go out that night.
*****
That night was a blur. Before going out to meet her, Stuart took about four times more pain pills than he should have in hopes that he could keep his mind from wandering, of course it didn’t work. He vaguely remembered seeing a movie with her and going out for a late dinner after, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what the movie was or where they went to eat. Sara was dull, boring even. He nodded while she talked on and on about something, he couldn’t be arsed to pay attention. She was uncomfortably handsy too, always grabbing at his arm during the ‘scary’ bits of the film; normally he found that sort of thing endearing but tonight, Stu had to constantly shake off the urge to push her away.
As they had walked from the theater to the restaurant Sara grabbed Stu’s hand. He looked down at their clasped palms; at first Sara had tried to lace their fingers, but their hands were so mismatched in size it couldn’t be done comfortably and she settled for the clasp instead. She was small and delicate in every way, and apparently her hands were no exception: flawless smooth skin, slender elegant fingers, and to top it off, rounded, perfectly manicured nails with purple nailpolish. It didn’t feel right. He felt like he was holding hands with a mannequin.
He smiled more than he should have when a man with a dog walked by. He broke away from her hold immediately and pet the animal- more interested in the excuse to move away than in the dog itself. Sara didn’t seem to notice, or if she did notice she didn’t care, and grabbed his hand again as they walked on.
Are my dates always like this? He wondered. Eating out with Murdoc hadn’t been like this, whether it was a date or not. It wasn’t. He reminded himself, whether that was a good or bad thing he couldn't say. But he liked being around him, Stu realized. When he wasn’t acting like a bloody maniac Murdoc could be pretty great. They had fun together. They were good together. He and Sara… weren’t. Hell, he never even liked Paula all that much. Paula was overbearing, dishonest, and manipulative. Everything bad about Murdoc was bad about her too.
Maybe I have a type. He pushed that thought away, he didn’t like what it implied.
At least Murdoc had some redeeming qualities. Surely he had liked something about Paula, right? He couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was. She didn’t seem to like him much either- ‘jokingly’ insulting him. He knew of at least three other blokes besides Murdoc that she had cheated with him on, and those were only the ones he found out about, he had no doubt there were plenty more. Was she even that pretty? He couldn’t understand. At least Muds gives a shit sometimes. He thought. If only… Maybe if Murdoc got his act together. Maybe it’d be good. Maybe shit could get good between us.
At the end of the night he walked Sara to her car. “What a gentleman” His friend’s voice echoed in his mind. “Well, goodnight.” Sara smiled, obviously a bit disappointed Stuart hadn’t invited her back to his place. She leaned in for a goodnight kiss. Stu turned his head and hugged her instead. The overly sweet scent of her perfume made him feel sick. She felt wrong in his arms, to small, too skinny, too soft. He wanted to go home.
“Night.” He broke away and turned toward the road, flagging a cab over as the girl looked on in confusion.
As 2D walked into the Kong kitchen he noted it was barely past nine. He could hear the faint sounds of video game music coming Noodle’s room and assumed Russ was in there with her. He considered joining them for a moment when he noticed Murdoc slumped over the table with a mostly empty bottle of rum. Stu wondered how full the bottle had been when he started.
“Muds?” He shook the bassist’s shoulder gently, voice quiet but full of concern.
“ ‘elllloooooo, Dullardddd.” He drunkenly drawled, the alcohol thickening his accent as it always did. “Di’n’ think you'd be back ssso ssooon. Wher’s yo’ date?”
2D smiled at him almost fondly. “Ah I left early. Walked her to her car an’ got a cab.”
Murdoc grinned “Gennntlemannnn. Such a blllloodddy gentleman, ain't ya?”
“Wasn't a proper date anyway, Muds.” The bassists eyebrows knit together in confusion under his bangs.
“ ‘o course it was, you-”
“I di’n’ kiss her.”
“Why not? She looked alright” Murdoc asked.
Stuart shrugged. “Di’n’ want to. She was...” he sighed “Y’know you really made shit complicated.”
“ ‘ow is this my fault?” He hated it when Murdoc actually made good points.
Stu sunk down against the wall to seated position and put his head in his hands. “This isn’t ‘s just…”
“Jus’ WOT, halfwit?”
“Just YOU! Okay?” He yelled. Murdoc was stunned silent by the outburst and the singer took that as cue to continue. “I don’ know how I feel an’ it’s even worse because who the fuck knows what you’re finkin’ one minute you’re throwing bottles at me an’ callin’ me names, and the next minute you’re hanging out with me an’ actin’ like we’re best friends.” At this point, Murdoc opened his mouth to interject but Stu didn’t even notice in his state. “AND to top it all off you just ‘ad to go an’ kiss me, di’n’ you? An’ everytime someone else comes along you just chase them away and ruin everything like with Paula, and with Rachel, an’ NOW I can’ even go on a date with some bird I barely know because i’m finkin’ about YOU the whole time an’ now i’m even more confused ” Towards the end he began to feel that familliar clench in the back of his throat and knew tears were about to arrive. Bloody perfect he thought sarcastically, putting his head down against his knees and wrapping his arms around himself.
“Stu.”
“Don’t, Murdoc, jus’... save it.” He choked out, barely a muffle from behind his arms.
“No. We need to talk about this.” The creak of the stairs reminded them that Russel and Noodle could come down at any moment. “Jus’... not here. Let’s head to the Winnie, shall we?” Stuart shakily nodded, coming to a stand.
The walk to the car park was as uncomfortable as you’d expect. Silence broken occasionally with 2D’s sniffling and Murdoc’s drunken stumbling. Stu pushed away the urge to wrap an arm around his waist to sturdy him, trying to ignore the desire to support his friend as they walked and feel the perfect warmth of his skin against his own. No, he reminded himself, you’re MAD at him.
As soon as they got inside the Winnebago Murdoc flopped down on the couch and lit a cigarette, 2D kept his distance and stayed by the door. “So… That's how you feel then?”
Stuart sighed. “Honestly I dunno ‘ow I feel anymore... What abou’ you then?”
“Huh?”
“How do you feel about… us?”
“I-uh. ‘M not good with this shit, Dents. But um… I-I think sometimes you can be, alright, I s’pose. An-And I… guess sometimes I can be a bit jealous when uh… when you bring a bird back ‘ere. An’ I don’ like it when I see you with other people. I guess.”
“So. What ‘appens now?”
“Do we…?”
“No.” Stuart interjected, knowing where this was going next. “I- This wouldn’t work. Not…”
“What wouldn’t work?” Murdoc seemed almost insulted.
“I-I can’t be with someone that is only good abou’ half of the time. I can’t deal with not knowing what you’re really finkin’, an’... I dunno. I just- I don’t know ‘ow I feel, Muds. It’s ‘ard to tell when you act so different every day. It’s… Counfusin’.”
“And what the ‘ell do you ‘xpect me to do about that?” “Just-” Stu gestured frustratedly, searching for his meaning “Get your shit together. Alright? Get your shit together an’ then… maybe i’ll know ‘ow I feel.”
“And then?”
“I dunno. We talk about this again and figure it out I guess.”
“... Okay then. I’ll... try to get it together.” Stu stood up straighter, surprised. Murdoc stood up and put a hand around each of Stu’s bony elbows, his glazed eyes meeting Stu’s black ones, reminding him that the bassist was incredibly drunk and with a sick feeling in his stomach he realized that he may not even remember any of this tomorrow. “I… Want to be a better man. I don’ want to be like my father. I’ve hurt you a lot, Stu and I don’t want to do it again. I don’ want to ‘urt the people I care about.” He shook his head senselessly, like a child into Stu’s shoulder as he spoke.
Stuart wrapped his arms around Murdoc’s waist, and taking advantage of both their height difference and the bassist’s slouch, he rested his chin on Murdoc’s head. Feeling the tension slowly drain from the other man’s shoulders. “You’re nothing like ‘im, Murdoc.”
“But-”
“No. You care about me, an’ you care about Noodle, and maybe Russ too. And you actually did something, you made this band, and you took care of me, and a bunch of other stuff. You’re amazing and- and I love you.” He clenched his eyes shut, regretting those three words immediately. Surely he had pushed it too far, surely he had ruined everything.” He waited a moment for a response before looking down at Murdoc.
He realized with a mixture of relief and disappointment that the bassist had fallen asleep against him. Stuart sighed and, with some difficulty, picked the man up and brought him to his bed. He looked at him briefly; a moment of peaceful something between them before he pressed a quick kiss to Murdoc’s cheek, reveling in the split second of perfect warmth against his lips, in the scratch of stubble and the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap rum.
For the second night in a row, he walked away from the Winnebago.