A/n: Crack fic idea I came up with. I had way to much fun writing this. Thank you to Texasbelle91 for bouncing ideas around with me!

Copyright: The characters and their back stories do not belong to me, the plot of this story, the smut and so on, is all mine.

Murphy noticed the stranger the moment he walked through the doors of McGinty's. How could you not, when he's wearing a black leather trench coat, a blood red, skin tight shirt and has bleached blonde hair that's all slicked back? And those cheek bones. Dear god. Murphy looked around the bar for his other half, wondering momentarily if Connor had noticed the stranger yet. Then he remembered they're in the midst of one of their blow outs.

They don't happen often, but when they do neither speaks to each other, else they'll just come to blows. At this point, Murphy can't even remember what they were fighting about. Probably something stupid, not worth fighting over.

When he spotted Connor he couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Of course they'd be fighting and the first thing Conn would do is to go and flirt with the local birds. Two could play that game, couldn't they? That is, if the blonde across the room, now at the billiards table would play along with him. He chanced another look at the new comer and saw him looking back at him. Murphy let his lips curl into a small, almost shy smile and then drained his shot before ambling over to the billiards table.

"Play a round?" He questioned.

The blonde smirked and nodded. "Name's Spike."

"Murphy,"

"We goin' to make this interesting?"

Murphy loved the accent the stranger, Spike has. British. He'd never cared for an American accent, found it lacking in charm and almost always made his head hurt. A British accent, though, he hadn't run across many folks in Boston with one of those, was soothing and charming. "Aye. We are. I win an' we go ta my loft, you win an' I'll buy ya yer drinks for da rest o' da night." His accent felt thicker suddenly, like he was showing off that he's not from these parts, showing they had something in common right away.

"Bloody hell, man can't turn that down, can he?"

With that, they began their game. Murphy's dear friend Rocco wandered over after awhile to watch the game, having gotten sick of listening to Connor flirt with all the girls in the room. "Yer jus' pissed that they ain't payin' attention to ya, Rocc."

"Yeah, well, my name ain't just the Funny Man,"

"Sure it isn't Rocc. Now hush up an' let a fella play his game in peace, yeah?"

Spike watched the exchange between the two with amusement glinting in his eyes. Who is this Connor they've been chatting about? He glanced around the room while waiting for Murphy to take his turn and noticed the dirty blonde with five girls surrounding him at a booth near the back of the bar. He could tell the dirty blonde had a family resemblance to his opponent. He watched the way that Murphy moved and saw the same fluid grace that the other man possessed. It was plain as day, even with Connor sitting across the room.

Brothers.

They continued their game in near silence, both too focused on winning to give much thought to chatting. Besides, as Murphy thought, if things went his way, he wasn't trying to get to know the man, he just wanted to screw him and forget about Connor for a night.

That's what Connor was doing, ignoring him and finding a woman to go home with and then come back to their loft smelling like one of them and sex and then he'll fall asleep fully clothed on his bed.

They didn't ever go home with women. If they needed a woman they'd go to her place and come home. It wasn't often. They had everything they needed with each other. The only time they really went with a girl was when they were having one of their famous fights.

"Bloody hell. You win, mate." Spike groaned.

"Time ta go, then." Murphy grinned.

Murphy went to the bar and grabbed his Pea coat from where he'd left it, waved at Doc and patted Rocco's shoulder as he walked by. "I'll see ya later, Rocc'."

"Connor isn't going to be happy ya know," Rocco grumbled.

"Connor doesn't give a shite. He's too far up their pussies to give his brot'er any notice, any how."

"Whatever, man."

Murphy shook his head and went to the door where Spike waited impatiently. Murphy cocked his head towards the door and they walked out. The walk the couple of blocks to his loft didn't take long, and it was in comfortable silence. Murphy took the time to study the Brit. He had an air of aloofness to him that reminded him of Connor. And the way he walked, similar to his Conn as well.

They made it up to the loft, "it ain't much," Murphy said in explanation, "but it works for me an' me brot'er."

Spike smirked. "May as well be home,"

Murphy led him towards his and Connor's bedroom and turned to face the blonde.

The blonde closed the distance and brought his lips to Murphy's. No, it wasn't the same as kissing Connor, but it was good and intense. Murphy pushed the trench coat off and let it fall on the floor before shrugging his pea coat off. They quickly undressed in between feverish kisses, hands roaming over any and all exposed skin. Then Spike's pants hit the floor and he stepped out and away from them, revealing that he hadn't been wearing anything under them. His cock sprang free, standing tall, before he pushed his body against Murphy's. Murphy reached between them and gripped Spike's dick, running his thumb over the head, felt the pre-come beading there and spread it over his cock before wrapping his hand completely around it and twisting his hand, like he liked his own cock to be handled.

Spike realized a number of things quickly while Murphy rubbed him off. First of all being that he needed to be the one in charge. He needed to dominate. He then realized that he was perfectly okay with that. In all of his years, in all of his sexual encounters, he hadn't ever let someone take charge. Not even Buffy, who was always the boss, always in charge. Tonight he was relinquishing the controls to a man he just met. The third thing he realized that Murphy was doing this to forget. But to forget who? Maybe forgetting wasn't the right word. More like he was distancing himself from someone. The man lost his train of thought for a moment when Murphy went to his knees in front of him and took his cock in his mouth, fondling his balls while taking his cock to the hilt.

Damn, he's good at this. He thought back to the bar and his first thought was, maybe he was trying to forget that shaggy guy. But that wasn't sitting right with him either. He put it aside to think on later, not at that moment when he was getting amazing head.

Murphy pulled away with a loud plop and stood back up, pulling Spike in for another kiss, this one full of teeth and tongue. Then he backed the blonde to one of the beds and let him fall backwards, amazingly gracefully.

"Hands an' knees," Murphy grunted.

Spike quickly got on his hands and knees, twisting his head to look at the man standing above him, his hand on his own prick.

"C'mon then, mate. Don't leave a bloke waitin'." Spike chastised. Then Murphy was on his knees behind Spike, spreading his own pre-come over his cock. "I like pain,"

"How much pain?" Murphy asked, understanding what the other man meant.

"Love pain. Jus' fuckin' do it, bloody hell."

Murphy pushed his cock inside of Spike as quickly as he could, relishing in the tightness of his ass as he did so. Spike grunted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, pushing his ass back towards Murphy.

Murphy followed his unspoken plea and pulled back to ram into him over and over again.

The loft door slammed against the wall and Murphy stopped his movements to glance over his shoulder at the intrusion. He was met with Connor looking at him, staring at him with jealousy written clearly over his features.

"'Stead o' bein' a jealous arse hole why don' ya join us an' show who's da boss?" Murphy challenged his brother.

Spike smirked, all of his earlier questions answered as he looked at the other brother. He should have seen it sooner. Brothers and lovers. He waited impatiently for the new comer to make up his mind to join them. His cock is throbbing, begging to come. And they're staring at each other. He wiggled his hips, reminding Murphy that he was there and wanted to be fucked. Murphy moved his attention from Connor and began to fuck Spike again, harder than he had been.

Spike and Murphy slowed as they heard Connor's clothing getting shed and his sure footsteps coming across the room to them. They both turned and watched his muscles ripple across his chest just as his shirt was pulled off, his cock straining through his half unbuttoned pants.

"Aye, Murph. Yer in trouble fer fuckin' someone wit'out me." Connor announced and slapped Murphy's ass and then pressed his hand against his upper back, pushing him down against Spike's back.

Connor reached around the side of the bed and pulled out a bottle of lube and poured a generous amount onto his hand, spreading it over his cock and Murphy's ass before pushing inside him, agonizingly slow. Connor knows how much Murphy hates slow.

"Arse hole," Murphy growled.

"Shu'up, Murph." Connor growled back.

Spike couldn't resist adding his two cents, "We going to argue or fuck?"

Connor pulled back and slammed into Murphy, and Murphy let the force of it, something he expected, to let his own cock pull back and slam into Spike. Murphy used each of Connor's thrusts to fuel his own thrusts into Spike. He reached around and grabbed ahold of Spike's cock, jacking him off while letting himself get fucked into oblivion. He would have lost himself into the sensations if Connor's voice hadn't called to him, "Nuh-uh, brot'er mine. Keep yer eyes open an' look at me."

Murphy twisted his hear around and stared into Connor's grey blue eyes, his other half's eyes speaking a thousand words that he wouldn't ever say in front of a stranger, even if the stranger was one they were both fucking. 'Don' ya ever fuckin' leave da bar wit'out me an' take another man ta OUR home, brot'er. I love ya, Murph. Yer mine, only mine. I don' care if I was bein' an arse or not,' his eyes said.

'Aye, ya were bein' an arse. I knew ya'd come home an' play wit' us, Conn. Was waitin' fer it. I love ya too, only ya.' He responded. Then he opened the flood gates between them, let their twin bond take over. He felt every shock wave of pleasure his Connor felt and let his own pleasure wash over his brother, till their pleasure became one and their movements were completely in sync with each other.

Spike didn't know what happened, other than the two men were suddenly moving completely in tandem and he'd never experienced pleasure like this before.

Spike felt his balls draw up, his cock ready to submit to the pleasure he felt. Murphy felt the way Spike's cock throbbed harder in his hand, how it seemed to swell even bigger in size. 'He's gonna come, brot'er.' He thought to Connor.

Connor's movements completely stopped and he pulled away from Murphy. "Take his load, Murph."

Murphy grumbled at the loss of Connor's thick cock being inside of him and he slowly pulled out of Spike. Spike dropped from his hands and knees and rolled over to lay on his back. Murphy leaned over him and took Spike into his mouth for the second time that night and let his fingers play with his balls. He moaned around Spike's cock as Connor spread his ass cheeks and pushed back inside of him.

Each one of Connor's thrusts had Murphy taking Spike deeper than he had before, nearly gagging himself on Spike's long prick. Then Spike shot his load down Murphy's throat and he was swallowing it all, licking at the tip of Spike's cock for any he'd missed.

He lifted his head from Spike's cock and Connor moved their bodies so they fell to the bed on their sides. Murphy lifted and wrapped a leg around Connor's and let his hand fall between his legs to grab his own dick and rub the tip, rubbing his pre come all over it.

Spike watched the two of them lazily for a moment then decided it was his turn to return the favor. He was going to suck Murphy till he came down his throat and threw his head back in ecstasy.

He lay on his side facing the brothers, face to Murphy's dick and took it into his mouth, his hand grabbing a hold of Murphy's thigh and dug his nails in while using every trick he'd learned in his long life for sucking a dick. He looked up at Murphy's closed eyes and then trailed his eyes down to the hand Connor had around Murphy's throat. They're twisted, these brothers, and fuck if he didn't love it.

"Conn, Conn," Murphy chanted his brother's name.

"Come, dear heart," Connor whispered into Murphy's ear.

That was all it took for Murphy to explode into Spike's mouth, hot come leaking from his lips as he swallowed over and over again. The moment Murphy started to come Connor's thrusts became erratic and shallow as he began to come too. Murphy reached behind him and grabbed a hand full of Connor's hair and tugged his face to his own, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Connor slowly pulled his softening cock from Murphy and wrapped his arms around his other half.

Spike stood and started pulling his clothes on. He'd just had a wild fuck and he wasn't sticking around. He'd gotten what he wanted. The brothers paid him no mind, too lost in their after sex buzz to spare a thought for him. He made it to the door before either spoke. "Don' be a stranger, might have ta do that again, sometime,"

He glanced back to look at the dark haired brother. "Yeah, might jus' have to," He drawled and left.