FIC: "In Silence" - Boondock Saints, Murphy/Connor, PG-13
Title: In Silence
Author: Meixia bionic
Fandom: Boondock Saints
Pairing: Murphy/Connor
Word Count: 2,854
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Winter's first breath.
Notes: Written for the past Firstlines1000 challenge "Bob stands by the window, the tips of his fingers against the cold glass." A little piece of frost and a little bit of heartache.
In Silence
Murphy stands by the window, the tips of his fingers against the cold glass. Winter is settling in with a blanket of white frost that coats the bushes and freezes the roads, turning them slick and treacherous. The moon hangs deathly pale and white in the night sky behind clouds that are too thin to block the moonlight as it shines through the window, slanting in, slanting in, before spilling onto twin beds.
Murphy follows the beam of soft light with his eyes to Connor’s bed, empty except for rumpled blankets tangled and pushed to one side.
If he’d known earlier that he would be spending tonight alone, he wouldn’t have pretended to be asleep in the first place.
It had been the loud banging of feet up the stairs that had first alerted him to Connor’s presence, determined, rushed, maybe in trouble. Murphy was already sprawled in his bed, naked except for boxers and white socks on his feet, blanket wrapped thinly around his chest.
The one room and kitchen they were currently calling home had no heating. It seemed like staying in cheap apartments was becoming somewhat of a tradition. Instead, Murphy had done what he could with clusters of lit candles that he had picked up at a dollar store for fifty-cents each. Thankfully, they seemed to be doing the trick and kept the place considerably warm.
When Murphy had heard the door unlock and the faint creaking of the rusted hinges as it slowly swung open, he had closed his eyes and evened out his breathing, pretending to be asleep. It was just one of those many spontaneous things that came to mind, and Murphy had thought about pouncing on his brother afterwards, just for a scare.
But he never got the chance.
He had cracked open one eye and watched Connor’s dim figure in the candlelight. Connor, who was oblivious to his brother’s faked slumber, was breathing slightly heavily.
“Murph?” He whispered, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Not knowing why, Murphy had kept his eyes shut and his mouth in the straightest line that he could manage with laughter ready to bubble up just behind it. He always loved teasing Connor.
Connor had waited for a few seconds, silent and unmoving, and when he saw that Murphy wasn’t going to respond, he had opened the door and stepped out, pulling it shut as quietly as he had when he first came in.
Murphy had blown out a frustrated breath and kicked the mattress with his heels. He had practically offered himself to Connor on a gold platter. Leave it to his brother to be utterly oblivious to such a generous offer.
A slight frown creased Murphy’s forehead as he pulled the sheets more comfortably around himself, curling onto his side and mostly covered. He rubbed his head against the pillows, smoothing away the frown, sparing a thought for Connor. Where was he off to? A bar. A club. A seedy strip joint.
Murphy yawned, resigned, worn-out and too tired to do something about it. He had almost convinced himself he didn’t care where Connor was, who he was kissing or loving, before he dropped off into sleep. Almost was a long way from where he wanted to be.
The little flames silently burning on the candlewicks watched and winked at him. The frigid air from the recently opened door swarmed in the room, covering, slithering against the sheets and coaxing its way inside. It chilled the tips of Murphy’s lashes and hair with an early winter’s kiss.
Murphy shivered once, then slept.
Author: Meixia bionic
Fandom: Boondock Saints
Pairing: Murphy/Connor
Word Count: 2,854
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Winter's first breath.
Notes: Written for the past Firstlines1000 challenge "Bob stands by the window, the tips of his fingers against the cold glass." A little piece of frost and a little bit of heartache.
In Silence
Murphy stands by the window, the tips of his fingers against the cold glass. Winter is settling in with a blanket of white frost that coats the bushes and freezes the roads, turning them slick and treacherous. The moon hangs deathly pale and white in the night sky behind clouds that are too thin to block the moonlight as it shines through the window, slanting in, slanting in, before spilling onto twin beds.
Murphy follows the beam of soft light with his eyes to Connor’s bed, empty except for rumpled blankets tangled and pushed to one side.
If he’d known earlier that he would be spending tonight alone, he wouldn’t have pretended to be asleep in the first place.
It had been the loud banging of feet up the stairs that had first alerted him to Connor’s presence, determined, rushed, maybe in trouble. Murphy was already sprawled in his bed, naked except for boxers and white socks on his feet, blanket wrapped thinly around his chest.
The one room and kitchen they were currently calling home had no heating. It seemed like staying in cheap apartments was becoming somewhat of a tradition. Instead, Murphy had done what he could with clusters of lit candles that he had picked up at a dollar store for fifty-cents each. Thankfully, they seemed to be doing the trick and kept the place considerably warm.
When Murphy had heard the door unlock and the faint creaking of the rusted hinges as it slowly swung open, he had closed his eyes and evened out his breathing, pretending to be asleep. It was just one of those many spontaneous things that came to mind, and Murphy had thought about pouncing on his brother afterwards, just for a scare.
But he never got the chance.
He had cracked open one eye and watched Connor’s dim figure in the candlelight. Connor, who was oblivious to his brother’s faked slumber, was breathing slightly heavily.
“Murph?” He whispered, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Not knowing why, Murphy had kept his eyes shut and his mouth in the straightest line that he could manage with laughter ready to bubble up just behind it. He always loved teasing Connor.
Connor had waited for a few seconds, silent and unmoving, and when he saw that Murphy wasn’t going to respond, he had opened the door and stepped out, pulling it shut as quietly as he had when he first came in.
Murphy had blown out a frustrated breath and kicked the mattress with his heels. He had practically offered himself to Connor on a gold platter. Leave it to his brother to be utterly oblivious to such a generous offer.
A slight frown creased Murphy’s forehead as he pulled the sheets more comfortably around himself, curling onto his side and mostly covered. He rubbed his head against the pillows, smoothing away the frown, sparing a thought for Connor. Where was he off to? A bar. A club. A seedy strip joint.
Murphy yawned, resigned, worn-out and too tired to do something about it. He had almost convinced himself he didn’t care where Connor was, who he was kissing or loving, before he dropped off into sleep. Almost was a long way from where he wanted to be.
The little flames silently burning on the candlewicks watched and winked at him. The frigid air from the recently opened door swarmed in the room, covering, slithering against the sheets and coaxing its way inside. It chilled the tips of Murphy’s lashes and hair with an early winter’s kiss.
Murphy shivered once, then slept.