Untitled BDS fic, Chapter 4
Part 4!! Wow, I lied - it does suck. Hehe. I'm sorry, it's late. I know that's no excuse.. but, that's my excuse. The boys wanted some cuddling, so...
Untitled BDS, Chapter 4; Previous parts here, here, and here
It started raining on the drive back, and Murph’s mind was so preoccupied he had almost forgotten to turn on the windshield wipers. Connor was safe, and even if there was the slightest hint of trouble, even if Romana wasn't bluffing, his brother would know how to handle thugs. Il Duce was there, presuming he hadn’t gone out. With Il Duce, Connor was sure to be more than able to handle things.
So he really shouldn’t worry. Really. Connor was a big boy.
But Murph couldn’t help thinking that this could be the one time that counted. If he wasn’t there when Connor really needed him…
He stepped on the accelerator as he made a turn into the small parking space in front of their room, hastily putting the car in park and pulling the key out of the ignition, before practically banging into the door as he swung it open to find -
Connor snoring loudly on the couch in the same exact position from when Murphy had left, feet propped on the coffee table and arms outstretched.
God damn it. Murphy was such a loser. Romana had him by the balls on this one, and he probably thought Murph was the lamest vigilante in history now. Fucking Connor.
“Damn it, you fucking dumbass,” Murphy jostled Connor’s legs and shook his shoulders until blue eyes drowsily stared back at him. “You worried the shit out of me.”
“I thought you were getting smokes. Wha - the fuck did I do? I was sleeping,” a rather grumpy Connor shoved at the closest part of Murphy’s body, which happened to be his leg, but Murphy shook him off and landed next to Connor on the couch.
He turned to face him, something like annoyance in the lines of his face. “I thought you’d be fucking dead,” Murphy explained in slight exasperation.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Connor said and gave him a look. “What’s the matter?”
Murphy looked long and hard at his brother’s face. To think he might’ve never seen him alive and expressing such emotion ever again if his life had been taken. Connor’s face would probably be frozen in sleep. Cold, and he wouldn’t move -
“God,” Murphy closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as he sank further into the nearly dilapidated couch with its squeaky springs. “Nothing,” he muttered, feeling Connor shift to watch his face more closely. “Nothing,” he said again.
“You okay? You need a - an aspirin or something?” Connor asked.
“No,” Murphy said and rubbed his neck, his jaw, working the stress out of his body one slow breath at a time.
“Sure you don’t need anything?” Connor tried again.
The tension was draining out of his system so that he wasn’t running on anything anymore, and Murph began to feel the day’s toll bearing down on him. Eyes remaining shut, Murphy turned his head in the general direction of Connor’s voice, feeling the puffs of Connor alive and breathing warm his face.
“Just you,” Murph said quietly, and was surprised to hear himself say it. “I - I’m tired, Connor. Just stay here while I sleep, okay? Right next to me.”
It seemed that ages of silence passed then, stretching on until Murphy was almost sure Connor had left him alone. Then, movement, and he could tell Connor had agreed when his comforting weight settled even closer to Murphy’s side. A moment of pause before a cautious, strong arm slid across Murphy’s stomach, Connor’s fingers clutching lightly at the fabric of Murph’s shirt as his hand slid underneath the jacket.
“I can do that,” Connor said, warm breath at Murphy’s shoulder, “I’m not going anywhere,” he said as softly spiked hair brushed against Murph’s cheek. And there they somehow slept.
tbc...
You'll have to pardon the excessive use of italics. Hee. *G*
Untitled BDS, Chapter 4; Previous parts here, here, and here
It started raining on the drive back, and Murph’s mind was so preoccupied he had almost forgotten to turn on the windshield wipers. Connor was safe, and even if there was the slightest hint of trouble, even if Romana wasn't bluffing, his brother would know how to handle thugs. Il Duce was there, presuming he hadn’t gone out. With Il Duce, Connor was sure to be more than able to handle things.
So he really shouldn’t worry. Really. Connor was a big boy.
But Murph couldn’t help thinking that this could be the one time that counted. If he wasn’t there when Connor really needed him…
He stepped on the accelerator as he made a turn into the small parking space in front of their room, hastily putting the car in park and pulling the key out of the ignition, before practically banging into the door as he swung it open to find -
Connor snoring loudly on the couch in the same exact position from when Murphy had left, feet propped on the coffee table and arms outstretched.
God damn it. Murphy was such a loser. Romana had him by the balls on this one, and he probably thought Murph was the lamest vigilante in history now. Fucking Connor.
“Damn it, you fucking dumbass,” Murphy jostled Connor’s legs and shook his shoulders until blue eyes drowsily stared back at him. “You worried the shit out of me.”
“I thought you were getting smokes. Wha - the fuck did I do? I was sleeping,” a rather grumpy Connor shoved at the closest part of Murphy’s body, which happened to be his leg, but Murphy shook him off and landed next to Connor on the couch.
He turned to face him, something like annoyance in the lines of his face. “I thought you’d be fucking dead,” Murphy explained in slight exasperation.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Connor said and gave him a look. “What’s the matter?”
Murphy looked long and hard at his brother’s face. To think he might’ve never seen him alive and expressing such emotion ever again if his life had been taken. Connor’s face would probably be frozen in sleep. Cold, and he wouldn’t move -
“God,” Murphy closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as he sank further into the nearly dilapidated couch with its squeaky springs. “Nothing,” he muttered, feeling Connor shift to watch his face more closely. “Nothing,” he said again.
“You okay? You need a - an aspirin or something?” Connor asked.
“No,” Murphy said and rubbed his neck, his jaw, working the stress out of his body one slow breath at a time.
“Sure you don’t need anything?” Connor tried again.
The tension was draining out of his system so that he wasn’t running on anything anymore, and Murph began to feel the day’s toll bearing down on him. Eyes remaining shut, Murphy turned his head in the general direction of Connor’s voice, feeling the puffs of Connor alive and breathing warm his face.
“Just you,” Murph said quietly, and was surprised to hear himself say it. “I - I’m tired, Connor. Just stay here while I sleep, okay? Right next to me.”
It seemed that ages of silence passed then, stretching on until Murphy was almost sure Connor had left him alone. Then, movement, and he could tell Connor had agreed when his comforting weight settled even closer to Murphy’s side. A moment of pause before a cautious, strong arm slid across Murphy’s stomach, Connor’s fingers clutching lightly at the fabric of Murph’s shirt as his hand slid underneath the jacket.
“I can do that,” Connor said, warm breath at Murphy’s shoulder, “I’m not going anywhere,” he said as softly spiked hair brushed against Murph’s cheek. And there they somehow slept.
tbc...
You'll have to pardon the excessive use of italics. Hee. *G*