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

Chapter 21

(2D's POV)

Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

What the fuck am I doing!

Fucking yanking down Mudz pants down to his ankles, not even bothering to take them fully off. They dangled off one of his legs, unable to get passed the bunched material around his ankle. His face is a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and a blinding craving for anything that was about to happen.

"Uh... Lube?" Even with all the shit he'd put me through, we never did anything without lube. Whether it was for my own safety, or just his enjoyment, I wasn't sure. But I was as close to grateful as I could be with that fact.

"Counter, a... Fuck, drawer. The- the drawer..." he stumbled, pointing towards the nightstand. I didn't wanna move from between his legs, afraid I may not have the mental strength to get back between them. Instead, I reached over his body, pressing my chest against his as I reached across his body to get to the drawer.

I think this is when he finally realized what position we were in, when the front of my jeans pressed hard against his exposed dick. That he wouldn't be the one topping this time. His hands hovered over the small of my back, only touching my skin when I leaned back, bottle in hand. And that touch, that small amount of soft human contact, was like a shockwave to my cock, which was still pressed tight against the inside of my trousers.

Unbuttoning my jean was one of the biggest releafs of my life in the past few moments, not even able to be contained by my underwear as the tip poked out of the top of the elastic. I didn't even bother to take my pants off, just pulled them far enough down my hips to expose my leaking member.

The room was ridiculously warm compared to anything else, and the cold of the slick in my hand only drew more attention to the heat between my legs. Between his legs.

The next few steps left the room silent, except for the few groans and pants he gave off when my fingers hit something inside him. Cock twitching, out if his control, every time I got near his prostate.

"Knock it off, just... fuckin' do it already," he wasn't looking at me. That was fine. That's not what this was about. I just needed to be touched. To have contact.

To have control. For once.

And I did as I pushed inside him. Murdoc gave out a hiss of discomfort, looking down at my cock before turning away again, his whole body hot and uncomfortable. I wondered if I was painful as I bottomed out. He didn't make any noise, or say anything that would have made me think so, but the way he bit his lip and had his face scrunch up said otherwise.

The mere angle of how I was positioned over him was empowering to say the least. I don't think I'll ever get the image out of my head. Pleasurable wasn't at all the right word to describe this. I've had more pleasurable moments with a drunk thirty year old, I can't remember the name of, in a backstage broom closet. This was more... Satisfying.

Just having a warm heat wrapped around me so tight. Just enough to scratch the itch in the back of my head that had something to do with my rager.

And in my head, the situation... Just got worse.

And as soon as the idea flashed in my head it happened

"You can start movin' Stu-" My hands shakely slid up his chest. My breathing was ragged.

All those times he'd done it to me. To get me to shut up, or make more noise, or even just to leave bruises and marks... Those fucking marks!

My hands made there way around his neck, and squeezed.

Hard.

His head instantly snaped forwards, eyes locking with mine. Immediate panic flashed before his eyes, and the hands that had once gripped fabric now gripped my wrist so hard they turned red. The only reason they hadn't made me bleed was because of how short he had to keep them to play any kind of music.

And then I started moving. If Murdoc had any breath to hitch he would've choked on his own air. I let my hand slip just enough for him to gasp before his eyes rolled up. His hands moved from my wrists to my shoulders, nails finally able to grab some purchase on the softer skin. At some point I thought he may have said stop...

But he never listened to me.

I loosened up enough for him to breath, but not by much. He still gasped and spasmed at the lack of breath. I wasn't suffocating him, no, but I'm sure to him it felt like it.

He let his eyes close and his head roll back as far as I'd let it before he started trying to grind back against me. My fucking god the friction was bloody perfection! Hot and tight and slick...

I hated it, but It's all I needed. And then it was over, I could feel it. I should have pulled out, I really should have, but instead I slammed my hand on each side of his head as I came. He took in a big breath fast, fearing my hands might return, or that this was his only chance to breathe again. With his hands still near my shoulders, he reached around my neck and pulled me down, kissing me, tongue and all. And I let him, because honestly, it was kinda nice. His hips still rocked against mine at a lazy pace, ass tensing around my cock.

And just to be the good guy, I did something Mudz never did. I reached down and finished him off.

"The fuck-!" He nearly bit his tongue off with how fast he shut his trap. He only lasted a few more seconds of grinding back into my hand, and then he pulled at my hair, pulling me down to meet him again. Painting my hand in white.