
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/497902.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Boondock_Saints_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Connor_MacManus/Murphy_MacManus
  Character:
      Connor_MacManus, Murphy_MacManus
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Canon, Flashbacks, Biting
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-28 Words: 920
****** Biting Fingers ******
by kijikun
Summary
     Connor’s always had a thing for Murphy biting him.
Notes
     Short flashback of underage masturbation, the rest of the action and
     sex takes place when the twins are adults.
     Betas: Saints-and-walkers and metaallu
It’s strange the little things that reminds one of the past. Because right now
Connor isn’t thinking at all. He’s trying to breathe without blasphemy chasing
every exhale. His knuckles are white as they grip the rumpled sheets beneath
him. And if he was thinking?
It'd be Murph, brother, please. It’d be harder, faster, more. More.
Murph is kneeling between Connor’s bent knees, his finger slick and buried deep
inside Connor. He’s been working Connor open for what seems hours, smiling down
at Connor like some sort of combination devil and saint. Murph has his free
hand splayed across Connor’s chest, over the one piece of skin that doesn’t
mirror Murphy’s own; tattoo for tattoo.
Connor’s so close to the edge he tastes it, but he doesn’t want to be alone in
it. It’s better to have his brother right there with him, instead of falling
apart alone.
“Get a move on, Murph,” Connor grits out. It’s not begging and it’s not what
Murphy wants. But Connor’s not in the mood to give Murphy that, not tonight.
Murphy chuckles, low and rough. He scissors his fingers inside Connor, his
smile widening to a grin as Connor’s hips arch off the bed. “Such a slut ye’
are for it,” he teases. “Ye’ gonna beg me all nice an’ pretty, Conn?”
“Fuck ye’,” Connor shoots back on the tail end of a moan.
“Think the idea is for me ta do the fuckin’,” Murphy says, sounding every bit
the brat he can be at times.
He pushes a fourth finger into Connor. It burns but Connor takes it, shoving
down onto it.
Murphy groans softly, leaning over Connor. “Chri --”
Connor’s hand untangles from the sheets, his fingers putting a stop to his
twin’s almost blasphemy. The Lord’s name has no place in bed with them two.
Murphy’s eyes go a little darker and he bites at Connor’s fingertips.
And suddenly all Connor can think about is the first time Murphy bit his
fingers like that.
They’re twelve years old and they still share a bed. Either because Ma’ can’t
afford two or knows there’s no point when her boys will wind up sharing
anyways.
They’re wanking together, knees brushing, foreheads touching. When one exhales
sharply, the other inhales greedily.
Murphy’s got his eyes clenched tight, while Connor keeps his eyes wide open.
Every sound they make seems to echo through the quiet house and Connor -
Connor’s good at staying quiet, at muffling his sounds with his own hand if he
needs to. But Murphy?
Murphy can’t stay hushed, can’t seem to hold back here with Connor.
It's worse when they’re both so close Connor feels ready to shake apart. He can
barely think, let alone shush his twin when Murph starts to moan a bit too
loud.
“Murph, ye’ gotta keep silent,” Connor hisses out. He wonders if this is why
the guy in that dirty film he and Murphy saw kissed the bird he was doing - to
keep her quiet.
Murphy opens eyes gone so dark there’s almost no blue left. “Jesu--”
Connor fingers fly to his brother’s mouth, pressing against wet lips to silence
him.
Murphy’s eyes go wide and he bites at Connor’s fingers.
Connor comes all over his hand, Murphy only seconds behind him.
He’s pulled out of the memory by Murphy’s fingers sliding from him. Murphy eyes
have gone almost completely black with lust and Connor wonders if his twin
wasn’t just in the same memory.
They share their dreams and souls, after all.
Murphy bites at Connor’s fingers again, before joining their hands together.
“Ye’ always liked me biting ya,” Murphy teases darkly as he settles between
Connor’s thighs.
Their chests brush together, skin slick with sweat. “I like the other things
ye’ do with yer mouth more,” Connor laughs and lifts his head up.
Murphy kisses him, his teeth scraping Connor’s mouth. It’s wet and messy, and
perfect. Because no one knows him like Murphy.
When Murphy pushes inside of Connor, he’s right on the edge again and knows
Murphy is right there with him, his cock a burning line of fire that makes
Connor clutch at his twin and call out his name.
Connor’s cock drags across Murphy stomach as they move together. There’s
desperation in every one of Murphy's thrusts and Connor matches it eagerly. His
fingers will leave bruises on Murphy’s pale skin and in the morning Connor will
taste every one. Their thrusts go uneven and neither of them can breathe for
how good it is.
Murphy fists his hand in Connor’s hair, dragging his head back. “Fuckin’ love
ye’,” Murphy growls before biting Connor’s throat.
“Murph!” Connor cries out, because that’s all it takes to shove him over the
edge, to break him into a million pieces only his twin can fix.
He comes across their stomachs, tightening around Murphy.
Murphy’s cry is wordless and gets lost in Connor’s mouth; and Connor still
shuddering with aftershocks feels every pulse of his brother’s pleasure like
it’s his own.
Their heartbeats even out and fall back into the same rhythm. Connor pushes his
fingers through Murphy’s dark, sweaty hair. He’ll shove his twin off soon,
complaining that he’s too heavy. They’ll squabble over who has to get up and
stumble across the darkened room to the bathroom. They’ll nudge and shove each
other about who has to sleep in the wet spot.
A great many things have changed since they were boys, but some things - like
Connor's love for Murphy - never will.
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