Disclaimer: I don't own the Gorillaz. Sadface.

Author's Note: Soo...this was about two days in the making. This came to me while I was at home one rainy evening. For whatever reason, the scene from The Proposal popped into my head, and then I had the strange idea of subbing in 2D and Murdoc. It may be a little wierd, and not such a great read, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you like this as much as I do. :)

Warning: Implications of male/male attraction. 2D doing things in the shower (not what you're thinking...maybe).

Important: May not be the best quality. Also, I was practicing describing 2D. Not so great, but, hey. That's what practice is for.

Also: I'm a review monster. Hinthinthint. And... I've always wanted to talk about someone air-drying. And now I have!

Anyways, enough from me. Enjoy!


The Importance of Towels


The day that had crept onto Plastic Beach was drippy and sticky, like popsicles in summer. The intense heat of the sun had beamed onto the abandoned landfill for hours and as a result everything had a sizzling, slightly melting feel. The heat had driven all signs of life - not that there were a lot in the first place, but still - that the island had harbored, and the beaches lay deserted and trashed like empty fairgrounds.

Another thing driven inside by the heat had been 2D. He'd abandoned his activity of collecting interesting things that washed onto shore for the relatively cool interior of the manse. The heat had left its mark on him, and when he finally made it inside, lightly panting and sweaty, he opted for a shower.

Which was where he was now. 2D hummed, doing a little dance as a stream of mildly warm water sprayed him from above. He raised a hand to his face, rubbed the deep plum colored bruises beneath his eyes, then nestled pale fingers in the bluish purple strands of wet hair. He scratched at his scalp for a moment, then bent at the knees, sighing as the water pelted against the knots in his back.

The skin on his stomach was tight and bare save the trail of hair leading downwards, and extremely sensitive. He splayed his fingers and shuddered as his body reacted to the ghostly caresses of his nails. His thin fingers moved lethargically, and then, absently, he allowed them to stray beyond the line of decency.

Then he promptly turned the water to cold and stayed in about an hour.



Exactly an hour later Stuart Pots was shouldering open the door of the shower and stepping out backwards, careful not to slip on the slick tiles. He gingerly picked his way across the bathroom, stepping over various articles of trash and clothing, to the towel rack, where he happened to make a very disconcerting discovery.

They were out of towels.

2D felt like groaning. Or scowling. Or pouting. Or…something, but the singer was simply too sleepy from the heated water to know what. Instead he looked at himself briefly in the mirror before grabbing a dirty shirt from the floor to cover his genitals and, with a whistle on his lips, stepped out the bathroom and into the hallway.

And, coincidentally, a very, very naked Murdoc Niccals.

He barely had time to register a flash of green before something slammed him in the chest and he went down, faster than a stone in a well. There was a moment where the two simply lay sprawled there, entangled in the other, dizzy and trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Then they recognized each other and all hell went loose.

Murdoc's first words were, of course, incredibly polite.

"What the fuck?" he snarled, shoving 2D's thigh away from his own. A quick glance down made him blanch. "Why are you naked?"

"I was in the shower!" Stuart squealed, grabbing at his shirt and scrambling back. "Why are you naked?"

"I was taking a piss!"

"The hell? The bathroom's down the hall!"


"Why are you still naked?"

"If you must know, I was air-drying. But that isn't any of your business."

"Like hell it is!"

"Oh, really now? And just why is this your business?"

"It's my business because your…your…business just touched my business!" 2D snapped. By now, they had each slammed their naked bodies into opposite sides of the corridors.

"Oh, this is my fault then?" Mismatched eyes seemed to glow with irritation. "It's my fault that you don't know how to fucking look before you walk out somewhere butt fucking naked?"

At this point, 2D really, really wanted to punch in Murdoc's face. Like really. Instead he opted to glare bloody murder from across the hall. "What do we do now?"

"What you do," Murdoc growled, "is turn right back around and walk into that bathroom so I don't have to look at your naked self." 2D flushed and pulled the shirt a little tighter. "And I'll just…I don't know. Find some pants? Maybe." 2D nodded, then continued looking at him.

"The hell are you doing?" the bassist snapped. Somehow he managed to look scary even while cupping his own genitals. "Get going! And cover your ass."

The bluehaired man meeped and edged backwards, trying to keep every inch of him covered and failing horribly as he slowly made his way to the door. He scrambled his hand around to find the doorknob before and was right about to enter when Murdoc coughed.

"Uh… don't mention this to anyone alright, dullard?" 2D scowled at the slightly sheepish expression lining the man's face, but he nodded and quickly made his way into the restroom, t-shirt riding up at the last moment to reveal a shapely behind.

Slumping against the cracked paint of the wall, the Satanist sighed. That was ... awkward. Then, as if in afterthought, he smiled evilly and ran a pink tongue over his lips.

Damn, his band mate had a tight ass…