Chapter Text
Murdoc woke up to Monster screaming for food in his ear and felt like that sort of set the tone for the whole day.
"What-" you began.
"Sorry, I forgot to feed him last night," Murdoc rolled out of bed, scratching the cat to quiet him while he tried to remember how to be human. After a moment Murdoc pat your arm as well, "Go back to sleep."
You nodded into the pillow, and Murdoc padded to the living room with relative care, only running into the doorway with his face a little. He was relatively awake by the time Monster had a bowl full of chopped up wet cat food, and shook out the requisite treats treats to top it while the cat stared impatiently. Once the food was on floor level Monster gave Murdoc one hand-sniff and a gentle bite to the thumb in thanks before burying his head in his dish. Murdoc stood from his crouch, knees cracking annoyingly, and contemplated crawling back into bed. He settled for finding yesterday's clothing, then making coffee, then drinking a cup, then making breakfast, then scraping burnt eggs into the trash and making toast instead because somehow he'd still never managed to make an omelette that was edible in his entire fucking life-
"You got practice today?" You asked around a yawn, leaning against the doorway like you hadn't just snuck up on him.
"Uh. Yeah. You got work?"
"Nah, day off. Doing laundry."
You stole a piece of toast out of his hand, took a bite, then put it back in his hand. He looked annoyed mostly out of reflex rather than out of any actual surprise, and pushed the second piece of toast toward you, only to have you wave it off and disappear down the hall.
Monster wandered the house yelling for a minute while Murdoc munched at the second slice. When he heard the shower flip off he fixed a cup of coffee for you and left it on the counter by his plate. You predictably picked it up and drank it when walking to the bedroom in nothing but a towel, but paused just inside the door to poke your head back out.
"Did you fix this for me?" You asked.
"Course. Not how I take my coffee, is it."
"Huh," you said. He heard a rustle of fabric, the thunk of a coffee cup being set on your bureau. "Want to come back to bed?"
Murdoc grinned, "You'll only have to shower again."
"Oh damn," you said, then fled laughing into the bedroom as he chased you.
Early in the morning like this, on a day when all he had to do was be at Kong by noon, Murdoc wanted to take his time with you. But once you had pulled him down to the mattress your lips were so desperate and lingering that he was grinding against the soft skin of your inner hip in moments.
"Love-" he tried to slow you down, but then you were pulling off his shirt, mouth coming up to worry at the newly exposed skin of his neck.
When your nails dragged along the skin of his shoulders roughly, you smiled, then buried those teeth in his neck with just the right amount of pressure-
"Fuck me," Murdoc stuttered.
"Sure," you grinned, and rolled him over, dragging off the rest of his clothing, and the morning became a blur of heat and skin, of desperate hands and mouths.
Halfway through sinking his cock slowly into you, he saw you wince and had to pause.
"You alright love?"
"Sore," you admitted.
Murdoc hummed, slid out of you and then down the bed, pressed a kiss just above your sex, and smiled up at you before licking his way along your folds, fingers soft against you skin.
"Oh my god," your head fell back to the bed. "Yes, please- Fuck, just keep doing that."
And sure, it took some time and his jaw was half numb before long, but when you came with your nails ripping at the sheets and his name stuttered from your breathless lungs, it was all absolutely worth it. When he sat back onto his heels he licked his lips, watched your eyes track his movements even through your post orgasm haze, and accidentally glanced at the clock.
"Shit," Murdoc sat back.
"What?"
"Late for practice," he said, already rolling out of the bed, tugging on pants and trousers with a hop.
"Aw," you fell back to the bed. "Well at least you got breakfast."
Murdoc grinned, trying to shift his half hard cock so that it was slightly less uncomfortable to be trapped in overly-tight jeans.
"Not what I meant!" You blushed and sat up to glare at the clock. "I swear to god, I can get you off in ten minutes-"
"Already late, love. I'll take a rain check though." Murdoc grabbed your coffee from the bureau, drank it on his way down the hall, left the cup in the sink, and began to jam on his boots.
"You have sex hair," you said, leaning in the nearby doorway, nude, arms crossed under your breasts, and he thought you were probably being intentionally distracting.
"Well I did just-" he combed at his fringe.
"Yeah! Yeah, okay, I know," you fixed a lock of hair he'd apparently missed, then dodged around the corner to be out of sight when he opened the front door. "Want me to bring you guys dinner?"
"Yes," Murdoc glanced distractedly at you, watching you curl a leg around the edge of the doorway teasingly. "No. Maybe. I'll text you?"
"I'll text Stu" you said, and that killed his lingering erection.
"Great. Love you," and he was out the door.
By the time he made it to Kong he was only twenty minutes late and managed to slow his breathing and saunter in as though he hadn't a care in the world. No one was around to observe this act, and so after dropping his coat on an overcrowded rack he wandered back to the main studio, assuming the band would be there.
It was dark, and empty, and cold.
That was fine, though, he'd only had a sip of his coffee and the dregs of yours, and only one and a half pieces of bread, so he went to make breakfast. He started with a fresh pot of coffee and kettle of hot water for whomever came in after him, figuring that who ever it was would want caffeine. Then he checked the bread, moldy, tossed it in the bin, then the cupboards.
After five minutes he had to accept that all they had was eggs.
"Fucking figures," Murdoc seethed as he scraped burnt omelette into the trash, again. When his cell ran he just dropped the entire pan into the trash in favor of answering. "What."
"Hey Muds," Russel sounded tired. "So we were thinking of pushing practice to 2pm. Everyone here is pretty hungover and we figured you were probably just rolling outta bed-"
Russel walked through the door in a robe and with his phone to his ear, seemingly startled by the sight of Murdoc standing over the trash fully dressed and leveling a flat glare at him.
"No," Murdoc said into his phone before hanging up and addressing Russ to his face. "Put pants on you big infant, practice in fifteen fucking minutes."
Russ nodded, seemingly still surprised, then said, "Noodle's pretty hungover man."
Murdoc felt a cool rage beneath his skin and stalked forward. It was testament to how he must look that Russ cringed slightly. "Fifteen. Minutes."
Russ nodded.
Murdoc was down the hall before the drummer could really wake up enough to realize that Murdoc had just tried to intimidate him. Now a little further from Russ and headed to Noodle's room he felt his frustration abate slightly. He paused at Dents' room, considered the idiot might have a bird in there, decided he didn't care, and threw open the door.
"Band practice! Fifteen minutes!" Murdoc barked. There was a flurry of movement, someone fell off a bed, then four eyes were blinking at him in comical terror. Murdoc glared at them both then focused on Dents, "He doesn't have to leave but don't bring him with."
"Not fair! You bring-" Stu started to object.
"Well she's not here now, is she?! Fourteen fuckin minutes!" He slammed the door.
When he got to Noodle's room he knocked. No answer. After much more consideration than he'd given Dents, he cracked the door open slowly. No one sat up or moved, thank the dark lord.
Murdoc tiptoed closer to the bed and gently sat on the edge, "Hey sweetheart, hey kiddo. Morning."
Noodle moved minimally.
"Hey love, come on. It's time to get up."
"No," came the reply.
Murdoc considered, "Hey, do you remember the day we recorded White Light?"
"Don't make me think about…" Noodle's voice trailed off.
"Little fourteen year old you dragged my sorry ass out of bed by my ankle, and stood on the table yelling and throwing things until I got dressed and went to the studio." Murdoc rubbed the girl's shoulder through the blanket.
"I hate you."
"You have ten minutes, love. Get the fuck up," he said sweetly, and on his way out the door flipped all the light switches to 'on.'
They did actually manage to get some practice in, though it took almost forty minutes to get everyone into one room and in tune and playing the same song. It devolves into an unmitigated nightmare of a session within minutes. And then the shouting starts. Murdoc tries very hard not to cringe when Russ throws a drumstick directly at Stu and Noodle casually slaps the drummer in the back of the head so hard his brow hits a cymbal and Stu laughs so hard he falls over the mic stand, pulling Murdoc down in his panic and-
"Okay, fuck, okay! Let's take a break," Murdoc had to admit defeat.
"No. We are done here," Noodle says, then traipses out of the room like the only one who isn't injured, the utter rat.
Stu and Murdoc detangle themselves, Stu clutching his shin. When he rolls up the cuffs of his trousers a red welt marks where the microphone stand hit.
"That's gonna bruise," Dents said idly, poking the damage with a cringe.
"What the fuck were you thinking Muds?" Russ complained, touching his brow.
He considers the question, and desperately wants to lash out with a furious answer about wanting to be in a fucking band rather than a soap opera, but he bites his tongue, considering his options. It's obvious the question is rhetorical and Murdoc is being utterly ignored, so he gives up and opens his phone. When the doorbell rings Murdoc knows that at least no one else is human enough to get it so he answers himself. Ten minutes later an array of carryout containers line the kitchen beside a four-pack of sports drinks for the hungover diva who is probably furious at him.
There's a noise as Stu literally stumbles into the room.
"Fuck yeah," Dents grins from the doorway then calls back. "RUSS! There's burgers!"
Even from a room away Murdoc can hear Russ and Noodle dropping whatever they're doing and head to the kitchen.
"I got an extra, wasn't sure if your bloke stuck around-" Murdoc began.
"God no, used you as a good excuse to send him packing. Good shag, boring as hell." Dents pulled a paper tray towards himself and said the last bit with a sing-song lilt, "I figured it was for your girlfriend."
"We calling her that now?" Russ asked from the other room.
"They have been dating for almost a year," Noodle slid a box toward herself and picked at the chips.
"Ten months," Murdoc corrected.
"Plus another six of flirting and thinking she wasn't interested," Dents said around a mouthful of burger.
"Fuck you," Murdoc stole Stu's chips and messily shoved a handful into his mouth. That meant his mouth was too full to speak when the rest of the band had a conversation that confused the hell out of him.
"Speaking of your girl, we're thinkin about moving outta Kong," Russ popped open a can of soda and took a sip.
"Is now the time?" Noodle asked.
"Why not?" Russ countered. "If today proved anything it was that we've all gotten too damn comfortable blurring the line between band and home. Maybe Murdoc moving out is the perfect time to make Kong for music, and home for you know. Overnight guests and hangovers."
Murdoc swallowed the remainder of the starchy potato and choked. He coughed, eyes watering, while Russel popped another can of soda and handed it over with a concerned look while he outlined a plan that Murdoc should have seen coming from space but somehow… Hadn't anticipated.
An hour later Murdoc was carrying two uneaten burgers back to- to your- to his-
To the flat, Murdoc decided for now. He'd just think of it as THE flat for the time being.
He let himself into the apartment with his key (his own key) and did the shuffling dance that kept Monster from escaping the flat as he entered. Monster poked his nose into the carry out as soon as Murdoc set it down so he scratched behind the cats ears, pulled out a cold chip to flick across the room, and watched the little demon do a passable imitation of you by flinging itself toward the fried potato at full speed.
A cursory walk of the rooms revealed you were definitely not home. After shooting you a quick text about having brought home cold burgers for dinner, Murdoc considered his options, begrudgingly dug a set of clean clothing from the closet, and started the water running for a shower. A few minutes later your voice spoke up over the music blaring from his phone.
"Hey, I'm home," You said distantly, over the squeaky vocals of Bozzio that Murdoc was only briefly embarrassed about enjoying. After a moment you thumbed down the volume and he leaned out of the shower to see you standing in the doorway. "How was practice?"
Murdoc rolled his eyes and resumed bathing, only now in a rush, "Your brother got a drumstick to the chest for being an ass, then got tangled up in a microphone stand. Dragged me down with him. Objectively not my fault, by the way, he's just ninety percent joints. I assume you take after your mum, because I've never seen you collapse into a pile of angles defined by non-euclidean geometry."
"You'll have to meet my mum to be sure."
"Damn, if only I had met and spent time with Dents parents- Oh no wait. Did that."
"But other than Stu being uncoordinated?" You sounded amused.
"Absolute shitshow, think Noodle almost murdered me," he muttered the last part while glaring at the showerhead, then spoke up again. "You coming in or am I wasting water standing here hoping in vain to see you all naked and soapy?"
"In vain I think, I'm at my two shower limit for the day."
"You're allowed to have limits?" He feigned excitement.
"You're disgusting," you said fondly.
Murdoc nodded in agreement, realized you couldn't see him, and shut off the shower. He stepped out and fumbled for the towel for a moment before seeing you were holding it.
"Thought you didn't want to get naked," Murdoc grinned, watching as your eyes tracked up and down his body. You held the towel out to the side, and obvious invitation to come get it, and he may have swaggered a little in the few steps closer, leaning into your space, encouraged by your lidded eyes and bitten lip.
"I didn't, but that doesn't mean I don't like the view," you pulled away and handed him the towel when he was bare inches from kissing you. "Dry off, I want dinner."
He wasn't going to complain, he had all night, and you were always enthusiastic about chips. "There's carryout burgers if you like."
"Oh good, I was going to suggest grocery shopping but really didn't want to go. Night in? You, me, Monster, telly, burgers, beer?"
It sounded like bliss. It also reminded him…
"Russ said something today."
"He does do that."
"No," Murdoc paused to towel his hair furiously, then started over. "Russ said something interesting today."
"I know you think that's a rarity so go on," you were smirking and one glance in the mirror explained why.
Murdoc finger combed his hair out of the impromptu mohawk the towel had left it in as he spoke, "He said that they were thinking of moving out of Kong so that they could rent out some of the studio space. Said there's no reason to keep the whole building all the time, since Ace was back in New York and I'd moved out as well, and did I want to come get the rest of my things or did I want them to throw it all in the bin."
"I assume you said no to the bin idea."
Murdoc blinked at you, "Yeah." He jammed his legs into the not-yet-filthy trouser he'd already worn today.
"Well what all is left there? I'm not attached to my bedframe if you wanted to keep that steel bear trap you call a headboard. There's room for your records and books here, I assume you guys will leave the instruments at Kong," you trailed off, wandering into the livingroom.
Murdoc followed, shirt in hand, having only managed to button his jeans before you wandered away.
"I mean I won't feel offended if you want storage for some stuff. In fact, honestly I could throw some of the quilts into a personal storage unit… Do you have anything that would be, you know, good for storage? And no pressure on that, don't feel like you need to store all the skulls and things. I have bookshelves, there's lots of room for your collection of other peoples dead pets," you were laughing now, moving a plant on just one such bookshelf.
Murdoc pulled on his shirt to buy himself a moment to think about the best response, then after smoothing the fabric down for a moment, tugging at the hem of soft fabric in a useless attempt to hide his gut, he settled on "Why wouldn't I get a room at the new house?" He had not intended nor expected those words ro come out quite so sad and small. Fuck.
You paused, and slowly turned to face him, expression hurt and frustrated for a second as you opened your mouth. Then, unexpectedly, you closed it and looked only confused. Murdoc waited. You tried again.
"Because you live here? Is that not what you want, to be here with me?"
"What?" Murdoc shook his head, saw you preparing to feel genuinely upset, and still unsure what he'd done to cause it kept forward to wrap you up in his arms. "Love, no, don't be upset, no. Of course I want to be here with you. I love you, obviously, demonstrably, I won't shut up about it remember? No, of course I'd love to move in, only we haven't had that conversation so it caught me by surprise."
"Muds," you paused, but when he was about to speak put a finger over his lips. After a moment you found the words. "Do you not actually know you already live here."
"No I don't. Do I?" He racked his brain in an attempt to remember if he'd had a conversation with you asleep, or drunk, or stoned…
"Yeah man, you do." At least your tone was amused now.
Murdoc sat slowly on the edge of your bed, fuck, the bed. He'd given up on remembering a conversation and was trying to just think of all the uninteresting trappings of domestic life, and if there was a clue there. He must have looked confused because you sat beside him.
"You're the one here more often than not," you said. "I come over to Kong and listen to you guys work, and sometimes I bake cookies with Noodle. But even though we're literally both in that building already, and you have a bed there, you want to come back to my flat to fuck and sleep. Every. Night."
Murdoc stared at a dust bunny near the moulding unseeingly.
"Hun, I don't know if you know this, but more than half your clothes are at my place," you said gently.
"That's because you keep stealing my shirts," he countered.
"I don't fit into your jeans, though, explain those."
"Fuck."
"Yeah dude. You're kinda already living with me."
"How does this keep happening?" He glanced at you.
You raised an eyebrow with a smirk, "This a common occurrence, you moving in with a girlfriend and not knowing?"
"No, just," Murdoc waved a hand vaguely. "I keep doing responsible shit without intending to. Or noticing."
"You do feed your cat without reminding."
"Holy shit, he's my cat isn't he…"
"You brought him home."
"I was pissed. And anyway, you let him stay!"
"I let you stay too. Beside, Ace loves him."
"Because the cat injures me."
"Yes, that is why dear."
"I have a pet… I shouldn't be allowed a pet."
"You're so handsome-" you teased.
"Shut up."
"Like objectively good looking."
Murdoc curled a lip at you in his best sneer and you darted forward to lick the teeth he'd exposed just to spite him.
"Ah, gross," he licked his tooth anyway.
"Rich, coming from you."
And all this felt like it should have been a revelation, but it wasn't, so it was easy to be flippant, to joke, and say, "You could be coming from me, if you took those pants off."
"You charmer," you pushed him to his back and crawled on top of him despite those words, but held still. You gazed down at him, hands tracing a curve just under his collarbones, head tipped to one side. "Are you okay Muds?"
He considered it, tried to really think about it for once. Was he surprised that he had, for the first time in his life, moved in with a girlfriend and apparently adopted a pet? Sure. Was he unhappy about either thing? Not a bit. But was he actively happy about changing, about being the kind of person who had a cat, a girl, and band practice he showed up to..?
"Yeah. I'm good," Murdoc nodded. "I'm really fucking hungry, but other than that."
"I hear there's chips to be reheated," you said, and leaned down to kiss him, but he was barely dressed and you were on top of him, and despite living with you it still took thirty minutes and another shower before the two of you actually managed to step foot in the kitchen.