damon albarn one shots

i'll take the sofa

contains angst and a bit of sexual content. 90s damon. based on the picture above.

a/n this was a shitty draft but i've posted it anyway...not everything is always sunshines and rainbows haha

'fuck. me.' i huffed, flopping onto the sofa beside a sweat-drenched boy who seemed as if he was on the verge of passing out.

'sure.' he mumbled beside me, not even having taken a look as he took a sip from his can of red stripe.

'ay?' i said, darting him a glare.

'fuck i dunno i'm too drunk for this shit' he slurred as his head flopped into his chest.

i scoffed at his comment before lifting my drink in the air, offering a cheers. he eventually looked over at me, glazed his eyes across my chest and then back up towards my eyes before clinking his drink with mine, complimented with a drunken smirk.

i responded with a faint 'same here' before knocking back the remainder of my drink and throwing the plastic cup onto the floor.

'shit party init' he stated, taking another swig of his beer.

'yup' i replied blankly as i closed my eyes, tilting my head onto the back of the sofa - beginning to feel the spins.

'wanna get out of here?' he asked, directing his limp head in my direction.

'fuck no you're hammered' i replied

'yeh but my knob still works' the corner of his mouth curled up.

'i don't even know your fuckin name'

'damon' he offered a pathetic hand 'and what do i call you?'

'y/n' i responded, chuckling incredulously before placing my palm in his.

——

we stumbled through the door to his apartment after a 20 minute taxi drive.

'want a cuppa or something?' he asked through his faint cockney accent, slipping his feet out of his shoes with a hand placed on the wall beside him for balance.

'sure' i said politely, making my way through to his kitchen.

his place was a mess, but a cluttered-bohemian-scatterbrained sort of mess. this came as a surprise to me; seeing all his oriental ornaments arranged haphazardly upon shelves and his colourful tapestries draped across his windows when i was more expecting a few porno magazines and old beer cans dotted around the place based on his appearance.

he was simple: he wore dark denim jeans, a plain grey tee and some black pumas - certainly not someone you'd expect to have a traditional African mask suspended on the wall in his front room.

'so we just here to fuck then or what?' i called from the neighbouring room as damon stumbled his way through the flat.

'uh..well yeh...about that. not sure i'm gona be up to my greatest performance this evening sadly' i heard him respond through the thin plastered walls before he made his way into the kitchen to join me.

'fine by me. mind if i take the sofa?' i asked, audibly shattered with my slurring words (and partial drunkenness too, mind you).

'yeah course. make yourself at home. it's nothing personal by the way...you are incredibly beautiful but i just wouldn't bet on being able to get one up right now hahah'

'it's all good...don't stress it.' i said with a kind smile.

our gaze was held for quite some time before his eyes dropped to my chest, followed up with 'but we can give it a go?' as his mouth perked up into a smirk.

'great minds...'

'think alike' he finished my sentence before pressing his lips onto mine, his hand gaining a tender grip around my waist.

i wrapped my arms around his neck as i slipped out of my shoes. despite losing a couple inches, he still had about 6 inches on me so this position proved to be rather uncomfortable with my neck awkwardly upwards in order for my lips to reach his.

to overcome, i pushed him back slightly with my palms flat against his beer-drenched chest but still continuing the kiss.

his heels were met with the foot of the sofa before he collapsed backwards onto it, myself flopping onto him and adopting the straddle position on his lap.

we continued to make out until his hand made its way under my skirt to slip into my knickers.

'love you aren't even half ready' he said, tearing away from the kiss.

i dropped my head to his shoulder in embarrassment, sighing deeply. 'yeah i'm sorry. it's not you - it's probably the booze'

's'alright. you wanna give it a go or nah?' his hand froze within my pants.

i paused for a second, lifting my head to peck his wet lips before running a hand through his damp fringe - now darkened with sweat. 'n'other time' i pulled his wrist from under my skirt and lifted myself off his lap.

i reached over to palm his crotch 'don't act offended, you weren't exactly raring to go' he looked up to me through his thick eyelashes, watching as my hand left his jeans. 'now c'mon. i'm tired. i'll take the sofa'

damon flung his legs over the edge of the sofa, now sat upright and gazing up at me. 'morning shag?'

'we'll see - that's if you even wake up with the state you're in'

'fuck off i'm not that drunk, coulda got one up with a bit of patience' he stood up in a haste, brushing past me into the kitchen.

'yeah yeah' i flopped onto the sofa again, fluffing up the cushions in an attempt to make my sleep for the night as comfortable as it could be.

'what are you doing?' damon turned around, his hand grasped around the wood board outlining the doorway.

'what do you mean?'

'top of the stairs, first room on the left. not gona let you sleep on the fukin sofa. shag or not.'

'damon i'm fine here. but thanks'

'i'm serious. go upstairs' he held his glare, his kind eyes almost pleading with me.

i huffed, dragging myself up from the sofa and headed towards damon. 'thank you' i placed my hand on his that was pressed against the doorway, kissing his cheek briefly before exiting the room - leaving damon stood limp and slightly perplexed.