Ficlet, "Who's Your Big Brother?", Boondock Saints, Connor/Murphy, PG-13
I wrote fic! I wrote fic! Somehow I got this scene in my head where after connor and Murphy have their revelation in the jail cell, they *dont* go back to sleep. Hee.
Title: Who's Your Big Brother?
Author: Anne, starsouls1013
Pairing: Connor/Murphy
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,205
Summary: Connor and Murphy are alone in a jail cell. They've had a near-death experience and a message from God. Guess who's horny?
A/N: This could easily have become smut, but I'm just not good at that, so instead you get the foreplay. Sorry!
A/N2: If you haven't seen the movie, the joke at the end won't make much sense. So! Here's a brief explanation. In a deleted scene, the twins ask their mom who came out first, and she answers "The one with the bigger cock!" Murphy later looks at connor (who is naked) and raises his eyebrows with a grin - connor says "Don't you fuckin start, I've had ice on mine!" (He was icing because a woman kicked him, haha). So that's that.
Whosoever shed man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the image of God may deem a man...
"Kill all that which is evil."
"So that which is good may flourish."
************************************
Connor collapses back onto the thin mattress that passes for a bed in a jail cell, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths. The sound is ragged, loud in the small room. His eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling, water still dripping down occasionally to land on his flushed skin, to dampen the sheets. He doesn’t seem to notice.
"Connor?"
"Yeah Murph?"
"You sound like you’ve just been to a fuckin’ orgy."
One of Connor’s breaths whooshes out of him in a laugh, and his eyes close. "Do I now?"
"Aye." Connor can hear the smile in his brother’s voice.
For a moment they lie like that, the only sounds of dripping water and Connor’s gradually slowing breaths.
Then suddenly Connor is rolling off his bed and onto Murph’s, crossing the intervening space before Murphy can react, and lying himself on top of his twin, their lean frames, so similar, fitting together perfectly. Connor supports himself with his hands on either side of Murph’s shoulders.
"And why aren’t you breathing like you’ve just been fucked ten new ways, eh?"
Murph’s lips curve into his mischievous grin. "Guess I’m just not as easily shook up as you." His eyes issue a challenge, a challenge Connor already knew he was going to accept.
"Yeh know I’m the cool headed one, idiot," Connor retorts. He smacks Murph on the top of the head, affectionately but not without force. "Except when I’m saving your life and all." And then his lips are there, on his brother’s, bruising and insistent. They dance the dance they know so well, years of practice serving them well. Their bare chests press together, so close so close, but not close enough for anyone’s satisfaction. The rosaries clink together dully, barely audible through the rush of passion in their ears. Then hands are reaching down, together, dismantling identical belts, buttons, zippers.
Loud breathing fills the cell again, only this time it’s two sets of lungs, and it’s accompanied by new sounds as well. The jingle of the belt buckles, the wet sounds of lips and tongues, a sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh as Connor accidentally pinches Murph with his zipper and Murph retaliates with a slap to Connor’s already bare ass. They don’t bother with underwear or boxers - it’d just get in the way. Connor laughs and gets up on his knees. A bit of contortionism and both of their jeans are off, sprawled on the floor, and now it’s just expanses of firm, tanned skin. Twin looks of hunger alight on faces that have seen death that same day. This night is special, an affirmation-
"You know, I always wanted to get fucked in prison. See what all the fuss is about."
Connor laughs aloud, then leans down to capture his brother’s already kiss-swollen lips, biting down on the bottom one, watching in satisfaction as Murph’s eyes roll up and his lids snap shut. He lets go, smirking. “I just might be able to fill that fantasy. You’re fuckin’ messed up, yeh know that Murph?”
"I’m strangely comfortable with that, little brother," Murph replies, grinning.
"Little brother?! I’m not your fuckin’ little brother, I told yeh I was usin’ ice!" Connor grabs Murph’s wrists and pins them over his head with one hand. Murph doesn’t resist, just keeps grinning wickedly. "I’ll show yeh who’s the big brother around here..."
Title: Who's Your Big Brother?
Author: Anne, starsouls1013
Pairing: Connor/Murphy
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,205
Summary: Connor and Murphy are alone in a jail cell. They've had a near-death experience and a message from God. Guess who's horny?
A/N: This could easily have become smut, but I'm just not good at that, so instead you get the foreplay. Sorry!
A/N2: If you haven't seen the movie, the joke at the end won't make much sense. So! Here's a brief explanation. In a deleted scene, the twins ask their mom who came out first, and she answers "The one with the bigger cock!" Murphy later looks at connor (who is naked) and raises his eyebrows with a grin - connor says "Don't you fuckin start, I've had ice on mine!" (He was icing because a woman kicked him, haha). So that's that.
Whosoever shed man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the image of God may deem a man...
"Kill all that which is evil."
"So that which is good may flourish."
************************************
Connor collapses back onto the thin mattress that passes for a bed in a jail cell, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths. The sound is ragged, loud in the small room. His eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling, water still dripping down occasionally to land on his flushed skin, to dampen the sheets. He doesn’t seem to notice.
"Connor?"
"Yeah Murph?"
"You sound like you’ve just been to a fuckin’ orgy."
One of Connor’s breaths whooshes out of him in a laugh, and his eyes close. "Do I now?"
"Aye." Connor can hear the smile in his brother’s voice.
For a moment they lie like that, the only sounds of dripping water and Connor’s gradually slowing breaths.
Then suddenly Connor is rolling off his bed and onto Murph’s, crossing the intervening space before Murphy can react, and lying himself on top of his twin, their lean frames, so similar, fitting together perfectly. Connor supports himself with his hands on either side of Murph’s shoulders.
"And why aren’t you breathing like you’ve just been fucked ten new ways, eh?"
Murph’s lips curve into his mischievous grin. "Guess I’m just not as easily shook up as you." His eyes issue a challenge, a challenge Connor already knew he was going to accept.
"Yeh know I’m the cool headed one, idiot," Connor retorts. He smacks Murph on the top of the head, affectionately but not without force. "Except when I’m saving your life and all." And then his lips are there, on his brother’s, bruising and insistent. They dance the dance they know so well, years of practice serving them well. Their bare chests press together, so close so close, but not close enough for anyone’s satisfaction. The rosaries clink together dully, barely audible through the rush of passion in their ears. Then hands are reaching down, together, dismantling identical belts, buttons, zippers.
Loud breathing fills the cell again, only this time it’s two sets of lungs, and it’s accompanied by new sounds as well. The jingle of the belt buckles, the wet sounds of lips and tongues, a sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh as Connor accidentally pinches Murph with his zipper and Murph retaliates with a slap to Connor’s already bare ass. They don’t bother with underwear or boxers - it’d just get in the way. Connor laughs and gets up on his knees. A bit of contortionism and both of their jeans are off, sprawled on the floor, and now it’s just expanses of firm, tanned skin. Twin looks of hunger alight on faces that have seen death that same day. This night is special, an affirmation-
"You know, I always wanted to get fucked in prison. See what all the fuss is about."
Connor laughs aloud, then leans down to capture his brother’s already kiss-swollen lips, biting down on the bottom one, watching in satisfaction as Murph’s eyes roll up and his lids snap shut. He lets go, smirking. “I just might be able to fill that fantasy. You’re fuckin’ messed up, yeh know that Murph?”
"I’m strangely comfortable with that, little brother," Murph replies, grinning.
"Little brother?! I’m not your fuckin’ little brother, I told yeh I was usin’ ice!" Connor grabs Murph’s wrists and pins them over his head with one hand. Murph doesn’t resist, just keeps grinning wickedly. "I’ll show yeh who’s the big brother around here..."