Blue.

The color of the sky, the color that represented sadness, and the color of the boy's hair, that he so longed to run his callouses fingers through. He could barely look at the boy, without the feeling of pained desire rise in his throat. But it was the pain that he desired so. Each look, touch, word that escaped his lips, was his pained pleasure.

This be true, Murdoc Niccals, the satanic, alcoholic, sadistic, womanizing bassist of Gorillaz was in love with another man, and to seemingly throw salt in his wounds, it had to be him, the one he hurt abused daily, who he verbally insulted every second of the day. The one who was called 2D. He wanted to stop the abuse, the pain, but he couldn't. He didn't know why but it refused to cease. It was like an invisible force of nature, making him do these things. He so desperately wanted to stop himself, mid punch, and apologize, make amends. But he knew some scars run too deep, and that his old habits die hard. He'd never stop, whether he willed it or otherwise, and for that, he knew 2D would never love him.

He most likely despised him anyway. The happiness was probably just a window dressing of his true feelings.

He sat in the disheveled bed of the Winnebago, the red flying V strewn across his lap. He casually plucked the A string, as he sipped from a bottle of Crown Royal, trying to expel the plague-like visions of 2D from his mind, as he drowned in a pit of sorrow, hard liquor, and tears. "Fockin insane is wat it iz." he drawled in a slow growl. He wanted to lay back down and fall asleep, but his roaring stomach said otherwise. He pulled on some briefs and pants and set out the door. He could hear Noodle singing 'DARE' again, though the part from the giant head was missing, and replaced with the vocal styling of Noodle-bot. (yes BOTH Noodles will be present.) He finally got to the kitchen to see Russell dump and entire chicken into a rather tall pot. He looked at the dark-haired male, ivory orbs meeting black and salmon pink, then he turned back to the meal. But looks say a thousand words, no? See, the only other person that knew of Murdoc's timeless love for 2D besides Noodle (And possibly Noodle-Bot) was Russell. He'd walked in on He and 2D arguing, and after the blue haired boy left, Russell confronted him about it. And from there, it all came out, like a cracked dam that had just burst.

Russell always said he had a way with words.

"You should tell him." Russell's deep voice broke the thick tension, like fine china shattering against the floor. His American accent was complemented with his deep ghetto grammar.

"I aint go'tta do aney-Fockin-Thin." "I'm fine." he grinned and whipped his tongue at him for affect, and twirling the turkey drumstick he'd just withdrawn from the icebox.

Russell could see right through him.

The African-American male slowly added some other ingredients to what could be a stew. "A thinly bound facade for a broken man."

"Whut?"

"2D said it once, while he was drunk out his mind on half a bottle of Four Roses."

"Liteweight." Murdoc growled, breaking eye-contact.

Russell opened his mouth to say something but thought otherwise. Instead he just looked at Murdoc, with the same look from earlier. Then turned back to his food. Murdoc shrugged, and glanced at the television, then rolled his eyes at the machine. It was that softcore porn that always comes on HBO at two o'clock in the morning.

Nothing interesting here.

He started down the dank hallway, hearing Noodle strumming the baseline from 'Feel Good Inc', and Noodle-Bot softly singing 2D's portion of the song. The robot could very well match the tone and feeling of the boys voice, yet it was void of something, a something the cerulean-haired boy could produce. The note switched from electric, to acoustic now, she kept singing, but still, the voice was still void of that special something. He rolled his eyes, scarfed down the remainder of his turkey drumstick, and headed towards the recording room.

By the time he got there, he was overcome with the same pleasuring devastation. 2D was in the booth, singing. Murdoc couldn't hear a thing, meaning that the mic wasn't on. He contemplated leaving, but instead sat in the ratty leather chair and turned on the mic.

-I'm happy, I'm feelin glad. I got sunshine inna bag-

2D stopped and looked forward, his eight ball fractured eyes gazing upon Murdoc, then he pulled his headphones from his blue mop and exited the small room.

"Ey Mudzy, watca doin?" "Summfin da matta?" He smiled, and Murdoc felt a little light flicker on in his heart.

"Juss listien to ya sing, faceache." he replied, adjusting his lean figure in the swivel chair.

"Oh."

"Git in dare an sing 'Rock da House!" he demanded. His lips curled into a creaked like smile.

"No." "I promized Russell I wou'nt sing dat song, on account dat it remines him o Del." he scratched his chin, and Murdoc rolled his eyes.

"Whateva, faceache." he beamed him with a discarded can of coke, which bounced off his head, and hit some recording equipment. "Dullar'd"

He turned and smiled at the other, as russell called for dinner. "See ya at ta table Mudz."

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー
Black.

The color of death, longing, and the only color that could be used to describe him. He loved him. And he'd take his own life for him if he had to. He craved the abuse, the bruises, small cuts, and iron-y pigment of blood. But only if it was inflicted by him. He'd buckle down, and endure the beatings, secretly writhing in pleasure, under each blow. And later he would trace the bruises, and outlines of the open flesh, silently wishing they were marks of his love which symbolized that he belonged to the man. Some would adorn him with the titles of Masochist, or Sadist.

But that's how you get when you're in love.

2D lay in bed, on the verge of a drunken stupor, a spent bottle of Four Roses dangling from his long fingers. All he could think about was Murdoc. He was the apple of his eye that was just out of his reach. Like a kid, longing for the shiny red bike that sat ever so daintily in the window if the toy store.

"Dis fockin-" he wanted to say something, but it was relinquished.

He would give anything for him. For his love.

But something in his head told him otherwise.

Why?

Because Murdoc had a girlfriend.

TBC

Oooh, who is this mystery woman...

Review, and give me tips on the accents! Much love!

3

P.S.- the reason Mudz wanted to see 2D sing '-Rock the House-' is because, whenever he sings that song, he does that cute crotch-Thrust dance