The Reality of Truth and Justice.

[is_mise_free]

Title: The Reality of Truth and Justice
Fandom: Boondock Saints
Pairing: Connor and Murphy
Rating: Nc17 for Twincest
Summery: Faced with the death of their best friend, Rocco, Connor and Murphy are on the edge of losing themselves. The bond between them as twins pulls them back together and back to each other. Closer than ever before.
Disclaimer: For real these guys in suits insist that I tell you, emphasize that I do not own any Chatarter or place that you happen to reconize to there I have said it.
Authors note: This is my first BDS fic. There is slashy, smut in it so if you don't like it please just don't read Also implied self injury.
A/N 2: I thought I had this in my journal already but I don't. This is my first attempt with Boondocks and My first attempt at Smut so please excuse the utter crap pile it turned to be.


Silently, the two men stepped out of the lift onto their floor of their apartment building.

Murphy MacManus walked out, his eyes blurring with unshed tears. His brother, Connor walked out behind him; the pain in his heart weighing down his legs.

Rocco, their best friend, had been murdered right before their very eyes making the boys face the harsh reality of truth and justice; their mission from God.

The images of Yakavetta walking in and pointing the gun at Rocco, the bloody state he left Rocco in, the image of Murphy throwing himself on the ground next to Rocco as he took his last breath, the look of the worst pain imaginable etched on his brother’s face.

Those images of Murphy only made Connor’s legs heavier. The mere thought of Murphy being in pain, (a pain that he could not just give him an aspirin and send him to bed knowing he’d be wake up feeling better in the morning) made it harder to walk.

Murphy blinked back tears; the despair and confusion he felt bringing the tears on full force. It seemed to him that in his short twenty-seven years of life, he hadn’t felt this much pain, this feeling of loss and hopelessness. Murphy silently recalled the only other time he‘d ever felt this despair.

“MURPH!” Murphy heard Connor scream his name as Checkov and his goon took him away. In his mind’s eye, Murphy could see the blood pouring from the side of Connor’s head where they’d hit him (Murphy had been in shock and unable to react quick enough to stop them). The tears falling from Connor’s eyes made him want to die, seeing them now made him want to die again.

“Murph? Are you ok?” Connor woke up with Murphy next to his bed in the sterile hospital room. His hand being held against Murphy’s cheek, tears from Murphy’s eyes trickling off Connor’s hand.
“I’m fine Conn. Go back to sleep.” The bandages on Connor’s wrists twisted the guilt in his stomach, the
horse voice Connor used toyed with his heart, wrenching it for everything he was worth.

“I love ya Murph. You know that right?” Connor whispered half asleep.

“I love you too Conn. Now go back to sleep you need your rest.” Murphy put a hand gently on Connor’s cheek. He closed his eyes silently thanking God for bringing his brother back to him, trying to resist the temptation to just brush his lips softly against Connor’s but settled for kissing his forehead drinking in the feeling of Connor’s skin against his lips.

As Murphy walked through the door to their flat, he removed his Rosary and hung it on the nail closest to the door, just as he had every other time he’d entered his home. It was such a habit that Murphy hardly noticed he’d done it; he was so focused on getting to his chair so he could light a cigarette in order to try and forget every ounce of pain he was feeling.

Sitting down he stared into the kitchen; staring off into space trying to make sense of everything that he was feeling.

Murphy watched as his brother came through the door. He made several attempts to shut it before the latch snicked into place and the bolt was secured. Murphy saw that Connor was limping slightly and kept his head down his hands were shaking while he was removing the wooden cross and hanging it on it’s designated nail - the one furthest from the door, closest to Murphy’s.

Connor leaned against the door and took in a deep breath before pushing himself off and going to the couch. He slumped as far as he could into the couch and silently wished that it would just swallow him whole and take away his pain; let him fall into a deep slumber full of easier, happier days.

His hands ran over his face then through his hair before dropping and coming to a rest on his knees. His eyes turned to Murphy, looking him over making sure he was ok; a split on his lip, a cut on his cheek, a gash on the brim of his nose and a slice somewhere deep in his hair (blood was still leaking down his forehead over his eye). However, Murphy was oblivious to it; he wouldn't care even if he had noticed blood coming off in drops from his eyelashes.

Connor stared blindly in Murphy’s direction but all he could see in front of his eyes was the panic plaguing Rocco’s and Murphy’s faces. The terror in Murphy‘s voice, realization in Rocco’s eyes, the silent plea for help ringing in Connor’s ears.

The shock and devastation crippled both him and Murphy. Their calling from God cost them their best friend and had turned several law men into criminals on their search for truth and justice.

It also brought a man whom they thought dead for the past 25 years back to life; back to them at the time they needed his guidance the most.

It seemed weird to Connor to be in their house seeing Murphy look so…lost - empty. On a day like today he normally would be waiting impatiently, watching the sky, looking out the window waiting for the first drop of rain.

That was the side of Murphy that only Connor was allowed to see.
The boy that always loved the rain, the feeling of it washing over him, the thunder rumbling under his feet and the lightning flashes making his eyes grow wide as it lit the sky. Today it was storming; the biggest storm of the year and Murphy didn't care.

God! Connor wanted more than anything for Murphy to see the rain outside and run out the door to play in it. He wanted Murphy to do anything, anything besides sit there with tears in his eyes and stare at the wall.
He needed to know if Murphy was ok; he needed Murphy to be ok.

Connor hated to admit it but Murphy is the one that held it together. He is the stronger of the two of them. Connor hated the fact that he had seen that look on his brother’s face before; when he woke up in the hospital a few weeks back. He hated more that he was going to have to get used to that look.

God! He hated, despised that look, shattered, lost, torn, scared. All the things that Murphy never was. Always confident, always happy, smiling, loving, sure of what he was doing…the essence that is Murphy. Murphy’s glowing smile, that’s what Connor needed right now.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, imagining Murphy’s smile. Tried to hear his soothing voice comforting his nightmares away. He tried to remember his laugh when they would pull pranks or go down to the pub.

In Connor’s mind, in his dreams, he could see Murphy happy again; his smile radiating past the sun. Although the image of his brother happy and carefree brought a near smile to his face, Connor was saddened by the thought that he’d never see that look on Murphy’s face again. That thought made the tears in his eyes leak out; he was scared that he would never see his brother happy again.

The two of them sat in silence together for what seemed like days but when Connor looked back at the clock on the table it had only been two hours. Only a sniffle, a shuffle of feet and a few coughs here and there let the other know that the other was still alive.

Murphy lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his mouth slowly, mechanically. Connor watched the smoke trail from his nostrils and out of the small opening of his lips, he watched him inhale, exhale, live.

Murphy’s eyes trained on a spider that had fallen in a glass of water on the sink; watching it struggle for every breath, fight for his right to live.

The smell of nicotine brought Connor back to reality, a cold, sad, harsh reality. How Connor wished he could stay in his dreams he was living, both of them happy, both of them laughing.

Now he remembered there will be no laughter for a while. His heart hurt at the look of his brother, he was scared that Murphy might lose his child-like qualities.

He has a heart of gold, Murphy does; loves every second of life, finds the silver lining on the dark clouds over his head. Would Murphy be able to do that now? Would Murphy be able to love life in the same way he did before? Connor hoped so.

As Connor stared at Murphy he noted the dried blood on Murphy’s face made him look scary but the look in his eyes made him look like he had lost his soul to the devil; like he had lost the fight to get it back. A pained expression would come to his face but his eyes would shout out anger.

There was still some blood leaking over his face; from the slash on his head most likely. With a deep breath Connor accepted his reality for what it was, Rocco gone. Being “Saints,” and the look on Murphy’s face becoming more and more “normal” instead of his beautiful smile.

Watching his brother breathe in the smoke, Connor ran his hands over his face only to see them come away covered in blood. Releasing a loud sigh to break the silence, he rose from his perch on the couch and walked the five feet to the kitchen sink obscuring Murphy’s view of the spider. Grabbing a cloth and wetting it with the hottest water he could stand, he washed the blood from his face and hands.

Looking over his shoulder at Murphy, his eyes still focusing on the spot where the glass should have been, tears blurring the blue eyes that Connor loved to look into.

He could not take that look anymore, that look was just not Murphy. Leaning against the sink Connor took in a deep shaky breath. He had to stop his tears long enough to take care of Murphy. Connor reached a trembling hand up to the knob for the hot water and shut off the cold, putting his hands under the stream of boiling water.

His focus was shifted from burning pain in his heart to the scalding water from the faucet. Although it was seemingly unbearably hot, the water made him shiver in relief, made a smile curl at his lips, made his mind focus on the pain in his hands rather than the pain he was trying to run from.

He looked back at the table where Murphy sat one arm on the table holding a cigarette to the ashtray while, the other was draped across his lap with his hand lying limp between his legs. Connor watched as his fingers flicked and swirled, twining together; a nervous habit of his. His piercing blue eyes still trained on the hidden glass, still clouded over, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth his teeth ground into the poor abused flesh.

Connor retrieved the previously abandoned rag and ran it through the water once more before wringing it out and turning off the tap. He gave a sigh and turned from the sink, his feet taking him to Murphy. Connor watched his brother’s face for any sign of life.

He looked into those dull eyes of Murphy‘s and wished that he could make them bright once more, instead of dark pools of despair. But Murphy never blinked, never noticed Connor moving towards him, never registered that his brother was now kneeling in front of him looking at him with sad eyes.

Connor rested a gentle hand upon Murphy’s knee and finally Murphy’s attention snapped to Connor with the press of the warm cloth towards his cheek.

“Let me see,” a breath in his direction. As the cloth touched Murphy’s cheek Murphy closed his eyes, his tears fell silently.

“No,” He whispered turning his head away from Connor; but Connor’s finger caught Murphy’s chin, pulling him back.

“No,” Murphy spoke more forcefully getting out of his chair and backing slowly away from Connor.

“Murph.” Connor said as he stood up.

“Conn, I’m ok.” The lump in Murphy’s throat let him choke out his words, almost unclear. The sound emitting from Murphy made the tears that Connor had been holding back overflow. Shattered, that was what Murphy was, he was the spitting image of a shattered glass.

Connor was losing all hope that his brother would ever be the same - that they would ever be the same.

“Murph, please! You’re bleedin‘.” he said moving closer as Murphy stepped back farther, not wanting to be touched.

Murphy knew that if Connor touched him he would not want him to stop. Murphy really didn’t want Connor to touch him, he did not want to face the lingering thoughts he had. He did not want to face reality.

The reality of losing Rocco, the reality that he was hurting as much as he was, that he was so lost, but most of all the reality that he was showing Connor just how weak he was.

“I’ve been fuckin bleedin’ all night Conn, I’m fine.” he breathed.

“Murph please… just sit down and let me fuckin’ take care o’ ya.” Connor stepped forward more forceful, Murphy just stood there, eyes pleading for him to stay away.

“Conn please, I promise ta take care o’ it later.” Murphy pleaded and Connor stopped a few short feet away from his brother.

“No Murph ya need ta let me take care o’ it now. Murph please let me take care o’ ya.” Connor pleaded back. Blue eyes blurred with defeat and Connor took this as his cue and closed the short distance between Murphy and himself.

Their eyes bore into each others, never looking away. Connor wordlessly brought the rag to Murphy’s face. A tear slipped from Murphy’s eye Connor’s eyes followed it’s trail down to his thumb that was resting upon Murphy‘s face, before he brushed it away.

With a small comforting smile, Connor turned to the kitchen to wet the rag again. Murphy listened to the water run down the drain as it warmed to Connor’s satisfaction as he sat in his chair.

When Connor looked over his shoulder at his brother his form was slumped over in defeat, his elbows rested on his knees with his head hung into his hands. Connor moved to his brother, once again kneeling between his legs.

He quietly reached up to Murphy’s chin and grasped it between his fingers bringing his eyes up to meet his own again.
For a few moments they sat silently and just stared at each other. Connor felt the stare deepen; making his stomach turn. A feeling he had felt many times before but did everything he could to ignore it.

He wanted to give into the feeling, it had done but all overcome every sense he had. How Connor wondered for a second if Murphy had ever felt this feeling, breathless, chest constricted, wanting to just cry from the warm safe feeling washing over his entire being. How he wanted to tell Murphy right than that he stole his breath away every day even after 27 years.

He quickly adverted his eyes, trying to get his heart beat to slow, and his breath to even out. His hand went back to Murphy’s cheek, washing away the blood. The dry blood flaked off on the rag, opening the wound again, smearing the newly split blood over his cheek.

He spent 10 more minutes softly applying the rag to each gash, cut, and slash. Cleaning and worrying over his brother. The gash in his hair would have to wait till after a shower, it was buried too deep to find right now. Murphy hissed as Connor touched the rag to his forehead cleaning out what he could find of the deep cut.

“They could use stitches.” Connor said meeting blue eyes with blue eyes, which followed him as he stood and looked down at Murphy.

There was that feeling again, his stomach doing flips and churning. His heart raced behind his ribcage. His breath hitched in his throat. He reluctantly turned away from Murphy’s gaze; he went into the kitchen to wash the rag, needing the hot water’s release again.

“Conn…” Murphy’s voice sounded just above a whisper. Connor turned slowly; not wanting to see the defeated shell of Murphy.

“Yea…” Connor said shakily.

“Connor.” Murphy forced it out of his throat in between the silent sobs racking his body. Connor rushed
back to his brother’s side. Murphy’s hands were between his legs again and his head was hung low. At once, Connor was between Murphy’s legs again; forcing his head up to look at him.

“What is it darlin’?” Connor breathed against his face.

“I can’t believe he’s gone“ Murphy answered squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing the lump in his throat. Connor’s shaky hand lifted to cup Murphy’s face to his but Murphy pulled away and stood, backing away from Connor once more.

“Just like that.” Murphy added as he turned to look into Connor’s eyes. Murphy’s face contorted into anger, his breathing become more sporadic causing Connor’s heart to speed up rapidly as he watched his brother’s chest rise and fall so quick.

“He didn't deserve that Conn. How could we have let that happen?” his voice rose with his breathing, anger seeping into his voice. Connor followed his brother with his eyes as Murphy paced back and forth, making him dizzy. A quiet sob and Murphy stopped moving.

“It’s all my fault Conn.” Connor rushed to his brother, engulfing him in embrace, holding his brother to his chest, crying with him. Rubbing small soothing circles on Murphy’s back, a hand smoothing the hair at the bottom of his neck. Murphy sobbed into Connor’s shirt.

“No Murph it’s not ya…” Connor began.

“OH FUCK YOU!” Murphy pushed Connor away from him, anger engrossing him.

“You even said it, “it was your idea to bring him in.” So don’t tell me it’s not my fault.” Murphy seethed, tears streaming down his face. Connor was stunned for several moments unsure of what to say.

“He knew what he was getting inta.” Was all he could come up with. Murphy just glared at Connor, before turning his back on him.

“Well I didn’t have ta let him come along, Conn.” Connor knew with Murphy in this mood nothing he would say would make any difference.

“I’ll be back” Connor said throwing the rag into the sink. He put his feet into his boots and grabbed his rosary before putting his hand on the knob unlocking it with two fingers and opening looked over his shoulder at Murphy, he sighed in his direction as a tear fell from his eye, he left closing the door softly behind him.

“CONNOR!” He heard Murphy scream his name as he made his way to the lift. Panic made Connor’s blood run cold through his veins as he ran back to the door.

“MURPH!” he screamed with equal force as he opened the door. When he stumbled in though the door he saw Murphy standing in the middle of the room, fear in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me…please Conn.” He pleaded, his voice innocent and scared like a child.

Connor closed the door behind him letting his heart drop back to his chest. Murphy had turned away from Connor ashamed of his actions. Connor stared at Murphy’s back, his stomach lurched again making him queasy and dizzy. Slowly he kicked off his boots and shrugged off his coat, pulling the rosary from his neck and then hanging it safely next to Murphy’s on the wall.

“Murph?” Connor whispered as he stepped behind Murphy, watching him tremble. As he found himself just behind Murphy, close enough to smell the blood and sweat, he heard Murphy take a sharp breath.

“God Conn, I thought he was gonna kill ya.” he confessed. “I was so scared Conn…I still am.”

“He didn’t Murph. I’m right here.” Connor breathed on the back of Murphy’s neck as one of his arms snaked around Murphy’s sleek stomach. The other went around Murphy’s neck enclosing Murphy in the tender touch he had needed all along. Connor dared to continue, a light kiss to the nape of Murphy’s neck.

“I can’t lose ya Conn. I’m sorry for being so difficult just don’t leave me Conn.” Murphy continued, even if Connor sat on the other end of the room and didn’t speak to him the rest of the night Murphy didn’t care he wanted Connor there in the same room as him.

“I’ll always be right here Murph, I ain’t ever leavin’ ya.” Connor breathed against Murphy’s skin, blowing hot air on the wetness he’d left behind with his kiss.

Murphy shuddered at the sensation and Connor could feel him gasp and tremble under his touch. Connor shook in anticipation of what Murphy would say, but for now he relished in the feeling of his brother so close, so intimately. A wavering hand intertwined with his hand, his arm lying on top of his.

“What would I do with out ya Conn?” He turned in Connor’s arms, “I need ya like I need air to breathe.” he declared trembling.

Connor’s thumb found Murphy’s cheek, stroking away the unnecessary tears shed by his brother, his twin, best friend, his life…his heart and soul.

“I love ya Murph. I could never leave ya. Believe me brother it’s gonna take a lot more than a bullet ta take me away from ya.” Murphy’s hands rested on Connor’s hips naturally as Connor brought another hand up to Murphy’s cheek, finding more stray tears. Murphy smiled with relief before resting his forehead on Connor’s

“I love ya Connor.” He breathed against his brother’s lips before capturing them in their first kiss. Warmth spread through through out Murphy’s body, his heart began beating rapidly, and the familiar scent of Connor relaxing and intoxicating him. A tear slipped from Connor’s eye landing on Murphy’s cheek.

“Why are ya cryin’ Conn?” they parted a small distance, a whine sounded from Connor’s mouth due to the loss of Murphy’s lips on his.

“Cause Murph… this is all just a dream.” Connor dropped his arms from Murphy’s back as another tear fell from his eyes. Connor turned and started to walk away but Murphy grabbed his hand turning him slowly, pulling him back to his arms.

“This is not a dream Conn,” Murphy put a hand on each side of his face pulling him closer.
“An I will prove it to ya.” Murphy whispered against Connor’s lips before closing his eyes capturing Connor’s lips once more. This time the kiss was desperate; Murphy needed Connor’s kiss and touch to give him the will to take another breath.

Connor brought his arms back to Murphy; A hand tangled in his hair pulling Murphy in deeper, parting his lips slightly letting his tongue slip out and lightly lick at Murphy’s lips to eagerly taste him. A hand slipped up the back of Connor’s shirt, fingertips exploring his back. Smooth skin against calloused pads.

A moan left Connor’s throat at his touch, the hand at the back of Murphy’s head pushed him, needing him closer to his body.
Murphy’s hands went to Connor’s waist playing with the shirt clinging desperately to his body, he tugged at the unwanted piece of clothing, pulling away reluctantly from Connor’s touch. He pulled the shirt off, revealing the slender skin of Connor’s chest.

Their lips came back together like magnets connecting. Murphy’s hands exploring the newly exposed chest, a finger tracing a scar he made on Connor’s collarbone when they were in Ireland.

“YA FUCK! What do ya think your doin‘?” Murphy had walked in on Connor taking a knife away from his upper arm. Connor turned, knowing he could not hide the knife, the blood or the tears form Murphy. He stood and backed away from Murphy straight into a corner.

“Nothin’ it’s.. it… uh…” Connor stumbled. Murphy’s blood boiled in panic,

“Fuckin’ lyin’ bastard! What the fuck is that? Give me the knife ya ass!” Murphy rounded on Connor, hand outstretched for the knife.
“Fuck ya! Just go Murph! Leave me alone!” Connor wrapped his arms around his shirtless chest the knife resting on his collarbone. Murphy was confused and angry, Connor always talked to him, always wanted him in the same room, had never asked for him to leave him alone. Murphy rushed Connor reaching for the knife, but Connor gripped it tighter holding it closer to him. Murphy pushed him and grabbed at the knife only stumbling and causing the knife to slice deep into Connor. Once Murphy heard Connor growl in pain Murphy stopped, taking his hands off of Connor. The boys looked at each other not saying a word, no anger in their eyes only silent apologies. Murphy took off his shirt and pressed it to the cut on Connors collarbone.
“What the fuck are ya doin’ Conn? Just tell me that much?” Connor spent that night in Murphy’s arms holding him, whispering quiet comfort into his ear as he fell asleep.

Murphy bent down and kissed the scar lightly, leaving small gasps evaporating from Connor’s mouth.
“Take this off!” He commanded Murphy, pulling off Murphy’s sweater leaving Connor in awe of Murphy’s bare chest. A hand traveled up Murphy’s arms, caressing every centimeter of the skin he touched, Murphy kissing the Virgin Mary tattoo, letting his tongue slither out and taste Connor’s neck.

Connor’s back arched slightly, his breath hitched in this throat trapped behind a moan, escaping his lips, a low growl sounded from Murphy as Connor lightly dragged his nails over Murphy’s toned back. A nibble and a lick on Connor’s ear brought on a new wave of twist and turns on Connor, a hand stationed it self on Connor’s hip and his other, tangled itself into the dirty blond locks. Murphy had waited o long to touch Connor so intimately, he like Connor believed this to be a dream.

They found each other’s lips again, a moan reverberated through out Connor, his hand leaving Murphy’s dark hair. Connor’s fingertips sliding softly down Murphy’s bare back, leaving chill bumps in their wake. His hand stopping and resting at his brother’s pant line, his thumb rubbing in circles on Murphy’s lower back. They licked at each other’s lips teasing each other.

Murphy tangled in Connors sea of gold hair as he let fingers trace drown the line of hair from Connor’s navel disappearing down Connor’s jeans. Connor let out a soft gasp as two fingers went down under his waistband of his boxers softly touching his ache.

Connor stopped moving, his hands were frozen in place, he pulled back slightly, eyes opened wide. Leaning back slightly, Murphy looked at his brother shock evident on his face.

“Connor? Do ya trust me?” Murphy asked removing his hand form Connor’s hair to cup Connor’s flushed cheek. Connor gulped and let out a shaky “Yes” Nodding his head slowly, allowing the tears building behind his eyes to fall slowly.

“I love you Connor” Murphy breathed into Connor’s ear, kissing his hair before moving to his lips, kissing them lovingly. Rumbling around Murphy’s hands found where they had left off.

“Murphy!” Connor moaned as Murphy unbuckled his jeans with two fingers. Murphy slowly pushed the tight pants down and Connor kicked them off the rest of the way. Murphy’s hands trailed softly back up Connor’s thighs before resting on Connor’s hips, fingers playing with the top of the boxers wanting to pull them off too.

Connor’s mind clouded over, all thoughts of “Should we be doing this? This is wrong.” left him, ecstasy flooding over his mind.

“God I love you Murphy” He moaned between kisses his hands sneaking themselves to the front of Murphy’s pants, hands shaking, fumbling over the damn button keeping them on his beautiful hips.
Murphy kissed more deeply, trying to hide his own nerves at Connor’s forbidden touch.

“Oh Murph I love ya…. I love you more than ya know Murph.” He gasped out, breathing his words into Murphy’s ear, his hands roaming over Murphy’s body. Murphy took a hand, cupping Connor’s face and his other rested on a shivering hip. Wordlessly Murphy pushed Connor to the bed laying him gently on the mattress.

They sat together staring at each other, Murphy on his knees between Connor’s legs, they shivered.
Nervous and cold Connor trembled under Murphy’s featherlike touches; Murphy leaned up and captured Connor’s lips directing his back to the mattress moving him to lie down. Small chill bumps formed over their body’s. Murphy pushed Connor’s legs apart with his knee, the muscles in his legs shuddering.

“I’m scared Murph.” Connor confessed in a small voice.

“Look into my eyes Conn. Don’t look away.” Murphy leaned on an elbow, resting his head on his hand looking at Connor, running his fingers through Connor’s hair. Murphy leaned down slightly towards

Connor’s lips wanting the contact. Murphy readjusted himself to tower over Connor, an arm on either side of his head leaning back down to inhale Connor’s scent, exhale hot breath against Connor’s skin, lightly licking at Connor’s neck.

“Oh.” escaped Connor’s lips. Murphy teased Connor, never allowing skin to touch skin. Brining his fingertips over Connor’s collarbone, trailing down his chest, lingering over a spot on Connor’s hip, skin never touching skin, the heat seeping through fingertips to Connor’s skin, bringing his mind to depths he never thought of.

Murphy breathed on Connor’s neck and cheek, no words forming, Connor gasping at the tantalizing experience, fingers radiating heat over his thigh and knee. He needed Murphy’s touch, he wanted to feel rough against smooth. Moving his leg slightly Murphy’s fingers traced along the inside of Connor’s inner thigh making Connor arch unexpectedly, a moan resonated against his neck as Murphy ground against Connor.

Murphy could not kid himself any longer, he needed the feel of Connor as much as Connor needed him, he could not tease and play anymore. He put his hand flat against Connor’s knee, rubbing light circles lightly scratching his nails over tanned skin, leaving it slightly red. Connor growled at the sensation, taking his hands and running them through his hair almost in frustration. Murphy felt the hands leave his hair, leave his body, taking his free hand he took both of Connor’s wrist and twisted them till they were bound in his grasp.

Whining, Connor pushed his head up to clasp his lips on Murphy’s neck lightly biting and sucking, lapping at the spot just behind Murphy’s ear.

“Jesus Connor.” Murphy growled pushing his arousal against Connor’s making a large gasp come from Connor, he struggled to get out of Murphy’s grasp he needed to touch his brother, needed to pull his lips to his, he wanted to roam and explore Murphy’s body as he had been doing to him.

A sharp intake of breath echoed around the loft, bounced off the shower wall and into Murphy’s ears making him more desperate for Connor. Even though Murphy’s desperation for Connor grew more and more with each intake of breath he had envisioned the first time with Connor before and he wanted it to go perfectly.

Connor’s hands began to explore, grip, pull, scrape in their need to touch and take Murphy. Murphy took a deep breath as Connor’s hand ran down his bare chest and trailed, searching for his high.

“Conn…” He breathed when he let out the breath he had been holding.

“Conn. Slow baby. Take it slow. I promise I will make ya feel good. Just take it slow.” Murphy stared into
Connor’s eyes, taking one hand and finding his brother’s pulling it back to the mattress lying it back before intertwining his fingers with Connor’s he leaned down slowly giving Connor a lingering kiss,

“I want ta remember how ya taste,” He moved his hips against Connor’s teasingly causing a soft moan from Connor,

“I want to relish in every moan,” He took his other hand and teasingly brought it down to Connor’s thigh again smoothly trailing it down finding Connor’s hard arousal letting his fingertips tease his skin. Up and down his fingers played with Connor before wrapping themselves fully around him. Connor arched back closing his eyes and groaning.

“I want ta see every face that ya make, linger in every moment. I don’t want ta miss a thing Conn.” he ended by kissing Connor delicately, stroking him, caressing him. Connor never had a chance to respond to Murphy’s request, demand, before he could even think about responding Murphy had moved his hand back to his own length.

“Murph Oh Murph!” Connor moaned as Murphy released himself deep inside Connor.

“Connor oh fuck Connor. Jaysus Connor.” He panted, Connor loved the way he said his name and made a mental note that he would hear him say his name like that again before the night was over. The boys were quiet laying next to each other, bodies still tangled, listening to each other’s breathing even out.

“Aye ya were right Murphy, taking it slow was more beautiful than I ever imagined it.” Murphy still breathing rapidly leaned over and cupped Connor’s face in his hand gently turning his face to look at him.

“That’s why you should always listen to me Conn. I will never lead ya astray, always do what’s better for you, for us” Murphy kissed Connor tenderly, never wanting to stop.
“I love you Murph.” Connor’s expression grew serious. “This… what we are doing, this is something I have been wanting for a long time Murphy. I have been falling more and more in love with you each and every day. I know you love me, I just felt the need to be honest with you incase you didn’t understand what kind of love I felt for you Murph, and I will understand if you don’t feel the same way as I do and get out of this bed and walk out that door.”
Murphy silently stared at Connor. He did not speak,speak; he did not yank his hand from Connor’s. Murphy sat up form his position on the bed and stood up waking across the room to his own bed, Connor watching his every move praying that he did not leave out the door never to come back. When Murphy strode back the bed Connor occupied he had a pillow and a pack of cigarettes in one hand his gun in the other.

Laying his pillow next to Connor’s and his gun under the pillow Murphy laid back down on the bed handing Connor a lit Cigarette.

“Connor, I love you. I have fallen in love you Connor. I don’t know when it happened but it did and there has never been one second that I have regretted it. I will love you always Connor, I will never leave you, I want to share this bed and every moment of my life with you Connor McManus.” The boys lay together, listening to each other breathe.

They stared at each other, wishing they would have had done this ages ago. After they had finished their cigarettes, Connor curled up into Murphy’s arms feeling Murphy’s pulse beneath him cradled him, relaxed his body. Connor was almost asleep when Murphy spoke up and broke the silence.

“I have something I need to tell you Connor and it might make you mad.” Connor moved in Murphy’s arms slightly to see Murphy’s face. Murphy looked down at Connor and ran his fingers through the drying sweat in Connor’s hair.

“Connor luv….I am the older brother.” He ended with a smile, Connor blinked at Murphy.

“You… fuckass.” Connor laughed and tickled Murphy.

They wrestled and laughed for several minutes before playing and wrestling turned to another hot round of sex. This time it was not slow and sensual, this time they explored fucking against a wall, bent over a table, both taking turns being the dominate and neither knowing what was going to happen next, just hands and kisses and tugs and scratches, that was all they could remember hours later after fucking in the shower laying against the cold tile, allowing it to cool them.

“Oh Conn.” Murphy moaned once again. “That is the most lovely sound Murph.”