Once we got back to his place, I saw that the couch was made up like a bed.
"I waited for that text," he sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Unfortunately, people don't change," he explained, pessimistically.
He walked over to my "bed" and sat down. He looked at me with a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry, Stu," he said quietly. "I know how it feels. When my dad found out, well, he wasn't too happy, to say the least," he chuckled. "He didn't kick me out, per se. It was more of a mutual eviction. He didn't want me there anymore and I didn't want to get kicked around anymore, so I left. That's when it stopped being so mutual. Since I left, I'm completely dead to him," He explained.
"Murdoc, I'm so sorry," I say, trying to comfort him.
"Ah, Stu, don't be. I found it's a lot less painless to be dead to him than it was to live with him," he chuckled. "But, I am sorry that you had to leave all your stuff," he added.
"That's alright. I believe I packed the essentials," I shrugged.
"Oh yeah? And what are 'the essentials?'" he asked with a grin forming in the corners of his mouth. I smiled back.
"Well," I started to say, making my way to the couch and plopping my bags next to him. "Clothes, obviously. A couple of pairs of underwear and socks," I announced pulling them out of my bag.
"Yes, those are pretty important," he chuckled.
"A Talking Heads shirt, a Smiths shirt, a Cure shirt, my Misfits shirt, an Oasis shirt, and alas, a Depeche Mode shirt, and a couple of pairs of black pants," I folded everything and put them back in my backpack.
"Much new wave," he said slightly sarcastically and smiled. "Do you listen to any metal?" He asked.
"Uh, no. Not really. I'm much more into punk," I shrugged, biting my lip.
"Aw, kid! C'mon! That's like, the best genre known to man!" He laughs, throwing up his hands.
I smile a bit awkwardly and shrug again.
"Ah, well. I guess it's not for everyone," he sighs. "What else you got?" He asks me.
"I brought my MCR blanket and the Cure pillow I made when I was 15," I say, bringing my 'bedding' out.
"You made a pillow?" He asked, looking perplexed.
"Oh, yeah," I smile, handing it to him. "It was an old Cure shirt that didn't fit anymore so I cut it up, stitched it up, and stuffed it. Viola! A pillow,"
"You sew, Blue?" He asked, examining the seams.
"Not extensively," I reply. "I guess I know the basics, but that's about all. I'm decent at a ladder stitch,"
He turned on the TV and I decided to check my phone in case any important things went down. No text from mom, but there was an email from the store. After skimming it, I learned that I have an interview Wednesday afternoon.
"Guess what!" I say, shutting my screen off. Murdoc looks up at me, signalling me he was paying attention.
"I got an interview Wednesday at 5!" I announce.
"Ayee! I knew you would!" He yells, pulling me in for a side hug. "I'm proud of ya," he smiles, ruffling my hair. A few seconds later, he stands up and walks to the kitchen. "Celebratory alcohol?" He offers, opening a beer bottle with his teeth. Immediately remembering what happened the last time I drank, I politely declined.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "More for me,"
After Murdoc plopped himself back next to me, he turned on the TV to some reruns of The Osbornes. I tried to stay awake, but I knew I couldn't stay up too much longer, as not only that I was exhausted, but it was also Sunday night. I had dreaded school tomorrow.
Still, about half asleep, I grab and unfold my MCR Ouija board blanket and curl up in it placing my head on my homemade pillow. I could feel Murdoc's eyes on me but I didn't pay much attention to it.
"You going to sleep?" He asked, poking my back. I murmur a "Uhhum" sound and nod.
A/N just to let you know, as of 5-12-22, there are some changes to the original storyline, this is a republish after I edited some stuff that I no longer think is okay (and some continuity errors and grammar and spelling, etc.) so please take a bit to reread the previous chapters, as there are some substantial changes
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Roommates (2doc/Studoc AU)
FanfictionMurdoc Niccals finds Stuart Pot trying to sleep on a park bench after being kicked out of his home and decides this all too familiar scene just won't do. He takes the man in and sets him up with a job, trying to help him get on his feet.
