Written by: Kelsey (AKA: krazorspoon)

Time/Setting: Early Phase Two/Kong Studios

Disclaimer: I don't own the Gorillaz or their stuff. It's all from Mister Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn, clear? Good. I think we'll get along just fine.

Themes:

-Murdoc and 2D slash.

-Rated MA: Contains explicit content for mature adults only

-Enjoy. :]

Atmospheric Pressure

There was something in the atmosphere. Perhaps it had morphed his original thought process.

The wind outside was howling and its coldness buried itself into his bones. It had rained mercilessly for the past week and the skies seemed a permanent slate grey. As the soaked singer made his way to the front entrance, he decided a nice cup of hot chocolate was in order. First, though, he would have to shower and change into a fresh set of clothes. The socks he was wearing were fully soaked with mud, as were his previously clean shoes. What kind of idea was it, he wondered, to wear a pair of white loafers on such a soggy day? Although, originally his plan had been to quickly walk down the hill to retrieve the mail, he hadn't bothered to consider the weather. The zombies had sped up his journey, however. He'd run half way back to the studio and now stood at the door; sopping wet, muddy, out of breath and cold. On the bright side, he had managed to snag what mail waited in the box. He smiled, proud of his bravery to take the task so confidently, and let himself in.

After peeling the cold, wet clothing off his body and starting up the water, he stepped into the cubicle. The shower head spat at his blue hair as it slowed into a more calm flow. Water ran in warm streams onto his pale, chilled flesh. Turning up the heat by rotating the handle left, he relished in the simple comfort. Showers always made him feel this way and so, often he wound up taking two or three showers daily. It was a very calming way to waste the day. Thinking on this concept, he proceeded to clean his hair with the unscented shampoo. It was hard to control the impulse which encouraged him to try the young guitarist's Sakura Tsunami. He began to lather himself with a layer of suds, then moved back into the water, rinsing his body free from any bubbles and making sure there remained no product in his hair. Though he'd finished cleaning himself, he stayed in the shower for an additional five minutes.

Eventually, he exited the cubicle and shook his head, flinging water this way and that. He grabbed a towel from the rack and dried his hair a bit before wrapping it around his waist. He approved his appearance with a quick check in the mirror then left the levorotary to make his way down three levels until he reached his bedroom.

It must have been the entire atmosphere of Kong, he decided, for the feeling he'd acquired while outside hadn't gone away. He wanted to call up Ronnie, his girlfriend, but knew she wouldn't come over just to solve his problem. Letting out a small sigh, he strolled over to his dresser and pulled the top drawer open. He stared placidly at his undergarments, wondering if he should change just yet. There was always the option of first solving his conundrum. Looking down on himself, he realised the situation wasn't only in his mind. He couldn't help but chuckle as he moved to the edge of his bed and sat down. But just as he was about to remove the small, white towel, the door was kicked in. As an immediate reaction, the lanky man covered his crotch and jumped, his heart racing from shock and pre-embarrassment. When he looked up, he saw the grunge bassist, hands on either side of the frame, silhouetted from the light of the carpark.

"Damn, Murdoc! Can'tcha knock?" the black eyed singer asked, obviously excessively discomfited from the ill-timed intrusion.

The bassist's eyes had been on the floor, but followed up from his mate's feet, legs, waist – which he paused on – then stomach, torso, neck and lastly his face. He grinned, knowing why the zombie-like man was shielding his groin from view. "Wat ya got there?" he asked in return. His voice was instructive and it forced the other to respond, though he didn't mean to.

"Nuffin," was his quick reply. He furrowed his eyebrows and gestured past Murdoc, who lingered in the doorway. "C'mon. Wot d'ya want-?" He was impatient to solve his pants-problem, but first he had to rid himself of the pestering demon. Unfortunately, no such success amounted.

Murdoc stepped into the room, his Cuban heeled boots sounding heavy on the cement floor. He closed the door behind himself and turned back toward the confused musician. "Y'know," he began, gathering the worried attention from the other man, "I think someone's slipped Rohypnol in my coffee… cos, y'see, it's now 4 A.M. an' I'm in the mood…." The end of his sentence haunted the singer and he shifted uncomfortably.

There certainly was something in the atmosphere, and 2D wasn't the only one heeding its affects. He noticed this as he looked to Murdoc's eyes. An expression of mistrust spread over 2D's face and he tried to show that he didn't want to deal with the older man in his current state, but it was difficult because of his position. So, without interruption, Murdoc went on, walking toward the singer with intimidating steps.

"It's like this," he deviated his path away from 2D and gestured with his hands as he spoke, "You've got on a woody an' I'm randy as fuck-" He stopped by the Juke-Box and sifted through the albums at the push of a button. Obviously he was bored with beating round the bush. As expected, 2D unintentionally fed his ambition.

'Wotcha wan' me t'do 'bout that?" He had more to say, and more excuses to use in his defense, but the demon bassist was quick to retort. He approached the singer which caused 2D to forget his own quandary and focus his attention on Murdoc (in case of any rash actions). He was right to prepare, but it didn't help. Suddenly, the older man was standing in front of him. 2D's gaze was fixed on the other man's stomach, as that was presenting itself right before his face. There was nothing he could think to say, but his mouth opened nonetheless, hoping something would come out and save his hide.

Then 2D was on his back. He'd been shoved by the shoulders and now felt a body atop his own. Murdoc grinned evilly from above.

"What th'fuck're yew doin!?" the singer finally barked, moving to push Murdoc off, but he didn't have the upper-hand in his position. The bassist stayed his ground and held 2D's wrists to the bed before sitting on the towel covered crotch. This alone caused a rush of endorphins and 2D's cheeks reddened, slightly. Murdoc noticed immediately.

"Looks like I'm gettin' you hot, eh?" Taking advantage of his accomplishment, Murdoc decided to utalise his power. He rubbed his seat against 2D's hardening lump and watched the singer turn his head to the side, shamed.

2D bit his lower lip and forced himself with every fibre of his being not to comply with the other's movements. "G-git off--" he stuttered, feigning eye contact. His body felt tormented with restraint and it didn't seem like he was in his element at all: He normally had control of what went on in his room, but this… this wasn't his situation at all. It was Murdoc's, and Murdoc was clearly dominating.

Continuing to struggle, the freshly washed singer let out an awkward whimper then clapped his hand over his mouth. While Murdoc laughed, 2D was struck with a stunning realization; the bassist had let go of one hand. His only freehand became his new life support, and with it he shot out and grabbed Murdoc's neck. He wouldn't be held against his will, he'd make sure of that.

Aggravated by the attempt at control, the bassist latched his own hand around 2D's thin neck and squeezed, causing the singer to struggle against him until purple in the face. With his lungs threatening collapse, 2D let go before moving to Murdoc's shoulder and pushing away, but the demon needed to ensure his power. After a few extra seconds, Murdoc finally released the other's throat.

2D coughed the remaining air from his lungs then gasped; desperate to return his dwindling life to his body. In a minute, his natural colour had come back. His breathing was still uneven, Murdoc was still on his lap, and as soon as he looked at the older man's face he regretted it. The snaggle-toothed demon was grinning sadistically – it was then 2D realised the hot sensation which overtook his nether regions. His eyes widened but he had no clue what to do. The bassist kept him pinned, leaving him one hand to defend himself; the hand that remained its grip on Murdoc's shoulder. 2D drew back quickly, watching the man from his place on the bed with a sickened and baffled expression.

"Well, well, well…" Murdoc groaned pleasantly, moving his bottom against 2D's crotch again, "I didn't know you were inta asphyxiaphilia. That's quite interesting." He leaned forward, forcing a gap between the slim man's waist and his own crotch. His torso pressed against 2D's chest, lessening the amount of air he was able to access.

"I don't-" 2D began, but found himself with no excuse as the feeling returned. He didn't know he was into that and was rather shocked. The reaction had never occurred before.

Closing his eyes, he moved his hips upward without control. For a millisecond, he forgot just who was supporting themselves above him. He took the friction with greed and nearly moaned, but harsh cackles broke through the hazy delusion of his mind. He looked up to find the bassist laughing. Immediately, 2D became defensive and, with his hand already on the older man's shoulder, he had no problem pushing. "Knock it off!!" he shouted, trying to disown the vulnerability that had overtaken his emotions. "And—git off!!"

"Shut yer pie hole, D, and take watcha want." He reduced the space between them but didn't get any closer to 2D's groin. "Go on, mmm? No one's watchin."

For some reason, a fair amount of stress lifted itself from the younger man's shoulders. He looked up at Murdoc in serious consideration. Indeed no one was watching (aside from the grimy bassist), and honestly, what did that matter? He was already basically throwing himself at the singer. With this in mind, 2D slowly and uncertainly reached for the darker man's hip. His shaky hand made contact with Murdoc's flesh and he was surprised as to how warm he was: The temperature of the older man only ensured the reality that seemed so illogical.

Upon feeling the other's hand, the bassist appeared very pleased. He knew now that his methods were working. To encourage 2D to continue, Murdoc rubbed against him in a few, fluid motions. 2D smoothly brought his other hand to the man's side. Both were obviously in the mood to have something done, and after Murdoc's mouth parted to release a moan, the singer took initiative and surged forward; connecting their lips in a rough kiss. This act brought with it an unnervingly static sensation which thrust through both bodies. Everything they were doing was so wrong. Sick even. Disgusting. It made the feelings hit harder with more efficiency.

And 2D was surprised when the older man cooperated with the sudden kiss. His slick, serpent-like tongue rubbed over and around the singer's: It was as if they'd returned to a different and new form of their battle for dominance. Murdoc was losing. Even during his late sessions with whatever woman he'd managed to seduce, he had never been partial to Frenching. He wasn't much of a mouth-to-mouth kind of guy in any respect, actually. Now, as he pushed for control, his endorphins circulated and thrived. 2D's mouth was sweet and bitter, with a hint of stale fags, and his own flavoured foul. An unimitatable sense of pleasure ran through the singer's body as he tongued the details of the demon's mouth.

Surely they would have continued a minute more if 2D hadn't wrapped his long, slim legs around the bassist. Murdoc whined; his body enthralled with the friction between his cock groin and 2D's taint.

Rolling his head back, 2D withheld a moan. It was bad enough that Murdoc was seeing him like this; bad enough that the bassist was causing it; and bad enough that he'd allowed himself to accept it, but he wouldn't show his enjoyment any more than necessary. Although he felt simultaneously threatened and electrically excited, he was overpowered by an uneasiness which derived from the mere presence of the older man. To ease himself back into euphoria, the blue haired man brought a hand to the back of Murdoc's neck and the other to his towel covered hard on. Murdoc watched and scowled:

Here his singer was in a situation the bassist would never admit to, no matter the bribe, and the half-wit man was pleasing himself! The bassist was right atop of him and he wasn't taking advantage of it? Then again, that just proved the younger man's impatience, which Murdoc gladly accepted credit for. However, his goal wasn't to force the singer to masturbate, rather to make him cum with himself. With this idea restated in his mind, Murdoc grabbed 2D's wrist and jerked the man's hand off his junk before grinning just inches from his face. He licked his sharp teeth while secretly bringing his right hand down on the near-naked man's crotch and gently lifting off the short towel. He hummed a deep laugh and watched his suspicious victim intently. He had him right where he wanted him.

Thrown off his natural control thanks to Murdoc's disruption, the pianist pushed his hand out of the other's grip and directly onto Murdoc's massive bulge. He was surprised at how hard the grunge bassist was, but continued nonetheless. He rubbed with his right and unzipped with his left. He'd make sure he wasn't the only one exposed and susceptible.

Meanwhile, the older man was tossed off guard because of the singer's sudden display of extroversion: After having given the displays of submissiveness, 2D didn't seem the type to attempt sexual advances in a situation like this….

Getting his mind away from that, Murdoc focused on the sensation of 2D's fingers grazing the top of his member. A shiver had been sent vertically through Murdoc's spine and he tried to keep his mind but the situation was just too hot. He hastily pulled his pants past his knees and off, then mounted the hazy minded singer before he had enough time to react.

Moving closer onto 2D, the bassist teased the other's senses by gently nipping the crook of his neck. Almost immediately after the gesture, the singer squirmed and rubbed himself against Murdoc. Both men were affected by the notion and Murdoc continued his advances, taking advantage of his singer's sweet spots based on results alone, and only stopping when 2D's entire frame shivered with anticipation.

Over a period of two extra experimental minutes, the action had become more rushed, desperate and needy. Murdoc had his teeth on the singer's nipple while fondling the other with his calloused fingers. 2D helped Murdoc, likewise. He massaged the bassist's balls with his palm and pulled him closer with a tight grip in his greasy black hair. Because of this, Murdoc began to rock his body against the slim man. With less concentration and more lust, Murdoc's cock rubbed against 2D's. The singer bucked slightly, unable to control himself.

"Ohhh god, Murdoc—" he screamed, reaching and grabbing his erection again. The pressure was killing him and he needed to relieve it now.

Murdoc backed off and positioned himself readily between the lanky man's legs. He lifted 2D's hips and pulled his ass against his stiff member. The singer's grasp on reality wavered and he looked past his chest at the other. He didn't speak because he knew he wanted more than they had already given each other and because of the rising fear that had popped into his head. Truth be told, the blue haired man had considered fucking another man before, he'd even used the idea during masturbation a few times, but the actuality was far more intimidating than the simple concept. But he didn't disagree Murdoc, though he obviously was a bit scared. He simply bit his tongue, trying to prepare for either the worst or the best romp he'd probably live to experience.

With a grunt, the bassist let 2D know he was about to force entry with no lubricant but his own saliva. 2D shivered with the feeling of Murdoc's fingers inside his hole, testing the elasticity. Now grinning, he withdrew his fingers and pushed himself into his frontman.

"Christ, yer tight," Murdoc moaned and adjusted his hips as 2D choked back a cry. The pain was paralyzingly harsh. He tried to think past it by spreading his thin legs, and with a slow thrust from the bassist, he managed to find pleasure. It came in the form of a hot, tingly wave which ran through his body like an internal blanket. The singer's mouth opened partially and he tilted his head back, relishing in the uniquely new feeling.

To Murdoc though, this bodily expression seemed tortured and conflicted. He stopped moving and held the other's shoulders. "Ya ain't dyin on me, are ya boy?"

Upon hearing this, 2D took his hand from his cock, reached around, and squeezed Murdoc's ass; causing him to thrust farther into him with shock. 2D moaned wantonly, eager to get going.

"Ooooh, I see how yer playin it." Approving the singer's displays of enjoyment, the grunge man pulled back and pushed forward. He persisted with the movements and gruffly grunted, filling the room with sound.

2D;s body was hot in Murdoc's grip. He felt as if he was suspended in air and following along a very bumpy road; a road that was working wonders on his senses. Moving his hand from Murdoc's backside and the other from its place on the bed, he hooked his grip around the bassist's neck and lifted his back off the mattress. The angle felt great as Murdoc continued pounding into him.

The blood rush heated their bodies to the extreme. 2D panted, adding to the humidity of his room. Colours blurred and noises combined, leaving him in the mixture of ecstasy. Not only were Murdoc's movements along the levels of expertise, but 2D's added adjustments and motions tripled the exponential pleasure. At the same time as he considered this, the singer felt the final surge of the long-run. His head went back.

"Harder-" he begged, clawing the back of the older man's neck, "Nn… Fuck me deeper-!"

Leaning heavily into the sweaty, hot man, Murdoc thrust more forcefully. He spotted 2D's exposed neck and bit roughly. Licking the wound, he led his mouth to the singer's and struggled to keep the kiss fluent. He hadn't expected the boy to be so willing and needy.

After a vociferous moan, 2D came onto his and the bassist's chests. He held Murdoc so tightly that he couldn't pull out in time. Their bodies buckled; utalising the feeling as if there were no worries. And there were none. Nothing mattered in that instance. The orgasm had been selfish and stayed such in mind. This explained everything: Both men were horny. It was a coincidence. Murdoc simply acted on his selfish desires and that was what contributed to the act. Both wanted it and both got it.

Following a delay that was longer than necessary, Murdoc got off from 2D and found his trousers. Likewise, 2D covered his messy self with the discarded towel. He watched the older man, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. There was nothing to be said, really, but he felt as if he should say something. He opened his mouth to speak but Murdoc's voice cut him off.

"Nice run-through, sunbeam." He grinned, finishing his belt and opening the door. Oddly, there was no sarcasm in his tired tone. "I'll make sure t'stop by another time: Keep yerself tight!" And with that, he was out the door and out of sight.

2D watched the space between the doorframe where the Satanist had stood. The first and only thought to go through his head was to brush his teeth again and take another shower. This time, though, he wouldn't dawdle; he'd get into his clothes immediately after.

-End