The process of Entirety- A BDS fic.
Author: Krystal ( papyrus4sirus )
Rating: R
Fandom: The Boondock Saints
Disclaimer: Mr. Duffy has all the rights while I have none, and completely without permission, this tale I have spun.
Warnings: Twincest. Some language.
Summary: Same day of Rocco’s demise, Connor fears his twin’s grief will be both their undoing. Hurt/comfort.
Note: This is my first BDS fic. Doesn’t have a beta, and hopefully too much isn’t amiss. Onwards!
The Process of Entirety
His brothers’ grief haunted him; the image of Murphy hurling himself to the ground to be at Rocco’s side played over in Connors mind, a repetitive motion that could rarely be stopped. The loss of his dear friend was hard enough, but the sight of Murphy that accompanied it combined into a heavy weight that he carried with him. Even now as they made their way to some hotel, a makeshift home, he thought on all that had befallen him and his twin. It wasn’t enough that their father was back in their lives the moment someone dear had been taken away from them. It was a poor substitute, yet he was extremely grateful that he discovered the man he thought he would never know. In a way he could thank Rocco for the reunion, however morbid and cruel that may be. And there it was again: Murphy… his whole body wracked by sobs, hiding his face into Rocco’s lifeless being. It made him feel ill and he couldn’t bear to sneak a sideways glance at the twin whose hurt was still emanating off him as they walked.
Connor looked around him and realized he was entirely unfamiliar with where they were, luckily his father was leading the way and for once he didn’t have to be in control of how their lives would carry on. It was a relief that gave him time to mourn, but as he contemplated these things he wasn’t sure how grateful he was for the spare time to gather his thoughts.
His mind switched to Murphy and his pain, the figure at his side with silent breath and heavy steps. Still, Connor could not bring himself to look over at Murphy, afraid to find that grief there and worried that his other half may never look the same again. He wasn’t sure he could handle a Murphy who would be somber and bitter for the rest of his remaining days. He knew he needed to speak to Murphy, to comfort him in some way, to step up and pretend to be the older brother despite neither really knowing who held that title. He would punch the life back into his brother if he needed too; make them both a bruised mass if it could bring back some normalcy into their lives. But what was normal anymore?
Before Connor could contemplate the oppressiveness of this question they had already reached their destination. It was as he expected: a shitty hotel somewhere unbeknownst to them. Their father took care of paying for the rooms and handed Connor a key before he said, “I rented two rooms: one fer you and yer brother, the other fer myself…we can speak more once the two of ya have had time ta grieve. I know you will both be havin’ many questions, but there will be time enough fer that later.”
Connor nodded to his father, grateful that he was doing this for them
“Thank ya da.” He managed to say.
In that moment he looked over at Murphy and saw a haunted look in his brothers’ eyes as he too nodded to their father. His silence was pressing. Connor knew there was nothing more to say so they all slowly progressed to the rooms which would press their sorrow further upon them.
Once inside the room with two double beds and a rickety nightstand, Connor quickly shed his duffle bag and coat. Sitting heavily upon the only chair in the room he covered his face with his hands and thought. He knew their wounds would need to be tended too. He wasn’t sure how much damage he had caused to Murphy’s hand for him to escape that handcuff. There was actually much to be done and he knew the longer he sat here the more unbearable it would become. With this in mind Connor stood up and decided to take charge again. It would leave him thanking less and feeling more like he was trying for him and his brother to become whole again, physically and mentally.
He looked over at Murphy who sat on the bed furthest from the door. He simply sat against the headboard staring numbly at nothing, a single tear leaking out his eye as if he were trying to hold back more. His face was bruised but no longer covered in blood. They had taken care of that at the house in which Rocco was murdered. A sickening feeling in his stomach washed over him again and he saw the scene once more. He closed his eyes tightly and rubbed at them, willing his minds image to be gone. He approached Murphy then, but his twin just kept staring. He decided to sit on the side of the bed and only then did Murphy look over. Their eyes locked and Connor wasn’t sure what he discerned apart from the pain of his other half. Murphy looked away, his head turning to look towards the window, he closed his eyes; more tears fell this time. This unsettled Connor, if they couldn’t share a look for very long, how would they share words? Quickly he spoke to Murphy.
“How is yer hand, Murph?” his voice sounded distant.
Murphy opened his eyes and looked down at the hands resting in his lap, he blinked a few tears from his eyes before clearing his throat.
“Hurts, but I think it’s only dislocated.” He continued to look down at his lap.
Connor gingerly reached over to grasp his brothers left hand and bring it closer to himself. Carefully he prodded the hand, looking for what he could fix. Murphy’s winces here and there helped direct him and soon he tried to readjust the parts of his brothers hand that needed to snap back into place. Once it seemed he had done his job, Murphy brought his hand back into his lap and nodded his silent thanks. Connor couldn’t stand this; he grabbed both of his brothers’ arms and shook him.
“Murph, I don’t want to loose ya cuz of this, I knew I could loose ya to death, but it didn’t occur to me that I could loose ya in other ways until Rocco died. I can’t even bear seein ya like this.”
He wanted to reach past flesh and hold murphys soul, tend to it and love it, but he didn’t know how so he held his brother in a tight hug, making them both wince from their bruised bodies. But he held fast and wouldn’t let go, desperate for any sign that would show they would be alright. The sign came, in the form of Murphy’s own arms wrapping themselves just as equally tight around Connor.
Connor let out a muffled sob and whispered to his brothers ear, “I love ya Murphy.” He felt so desperate as he clung to his other half, he needed more than this but he didn’t know what or if it could ever be obtained.
“I love ya too, Connor.”
Connor heard the words and it should have been enough. But he brought his hands up and held onto Murphy’s face, there were fresh tears in his eyes and his nose was pink. He held onto that face tightly and before he could control himself he brought Murphy’s lips to his own. Murphy didn’t protest or even seem taken aback; it was as if he too was urgently seeking that deeper connection. As their tongues battled fitfully against each other they held onto one another tighter still, until Murphy broke the kiss and stared at Connor intently.
“I don’t want to lose ya either, in any way. I couldn’t live if you died, Con, I fuckin couldn’t.”
Connor held his brother’s cheek, searching those eyes which seemed less ghostly now.
“Aye, brother.”
Their mouths connected again, tasting the sorrow and searching wholeheartedly for the others soul, as if the deeper the kiss became the closer they were to the other…to the root of what made them the same.
As Connor kissed his brother more passionately still, it didn’t occur to him if this was right or wrong. He and Murphy were two halves to a whole. They had always been connected on the basis of being twins, and it only came naturally that to extend that connection further was important and necessary, it was whatever they needed. They were the only ones who could read each other inside and out. They shared their own world which was unlike any others, and in this moment only they mattered.
Connor parted from his brothers’ mouth and deftly planted kisses on every bit of Murphy’s face, lingering on the parts that were bruised and broken. Murphy’s breath was soft and labored against his heated face. When Connor had finished he drew back from his brother and stared into his eyes.
This was the significant look they had shared only once before, and it was the morning after they received their calling from god. Eyes locked like this, it was the understanding that something had changed and they knew what they had to do.
They continued to stare in silence and neither broke the contact as Murphy began to remove his own shirt. Murphy tossed the bloodied fabric aside and seized his brothers’ mouth. The passion came again, only this time they both sought to remove their own clothing as they remained locked together.
In an instant both were undressed and Murphy was lying on the bed, propped up by his elbows with eyes willing Connor to help him finish what they had started. Connor took in the sight of his brothers beautiful body, but which was sadly battered by all they’d been through; he imagined his must look the same. Connor wanted to take the time to trace his brothers’ wounds and learn every contour of that slender body, and to languidly taste his brothers’ half hardened cock; but there was an urgency within them both that had to be sated. He brought his own finger to his mouth and quickly coated it with a bit of saliva; he brought the same finger towards his brothers’ entrance and gently pushed until his finger seeped in. Murphys breath hitched and Connor looked up at his twin.
“’s okay.” Murphy answered his silent question.
Connor nodded before entering a second finger. He slowly moved the two digits in and out of his brothers’ tightness, willing the muscles to accept him. Murphy’s penis was fully erect now and Connor could feel his own desire weeping slightly at the head. Murphy’s moans were making his mind spin and he felt he had to hurry. When he was satisfied he had done as much to prepare Murphy as possible he brought more spit to his hand before dispersing it on his cook along with the pre-cum that had formed. He did not need to meet his brothers gaze this time for he knew he had permission to continue. The head of his cock breached his brothers’ opening and began to slowly reach to the hilt. Murphy was near panting now and he seized Connors arms tightly while connecting his mouth to Connors neck then moving along his collarbone.
“Connor, I love ya so much.” Murphy’s voice hummed against Connors flesh and reverberated through his heart.
“I love ya too, Murph. Everthin’s goin to be fine. I can feel it.”
“Aye, myself as well.” They kissed one another sealing this truth together, locking it with love. Connor began to rock his hips slowly, mindful not to cause Murphy too much discomfort; but his twin was determined and bucked his hips in time with Connors to convey the pace should be quickened.
Connor obliged and pounded harder into that flesh, trying to reach his brothers soul. They clung to each other, mouths unrelenting and bodies thrashing. They could feel it coming, the divine surrender of one to the other.
Connor wrapped his hand around Murphy’s straining penis and pumped in rhythm with his own thrusts. Their moans mixed together until finally both were calling out the others name, Connor climaxing deep within Murphy, and Murphy coming over both of their skin. The process of entirety was blissful as they felt the reverberations of pleasure and love and so many other things thrumming in their veins.
Connor hadn’t the heart to pull out of Murphy yet, so he slowly lay down and adjusted to where they were both on their sides. They lay connected, observing one another.
The greatest relief came when Murphy smiled at Connor, and in that moment he knew he would not lose his brother, no matter the trials they suffered.
Fin.