Are We Really Free?
Author's notes: On tumblr, I happen to write a LOT of short drabbles for HenryMurphy. (You can find it all under the MurpHenry tag!) But I want to post them here. There will be no order and they are all unrelated. :) Enjoy!
Warnings: Some of them are OOC, there's lots of fluff, some are from requests (which I always take, up to the T rating) etc..
Henry sat at the side of the road, white shirt soaked through and entire person shivering. Murphy shook his head, mumbling about the now-stopped rain and gently places his jacket over the smaller man's trembling figure. Henry leaned into him, thankful for the warmth and, of course, the company.
Henry didn't smile often, but it didn't mean he wasn't happy. It took Murphy a long time to get used to that fact. For being so jaded and having spent so much time in prison the man spoke to people easily and blended in well with the city they had hidden themselves in. Henry had never been that was and he envied his boyfriend for it. Even before the events with Walter, Henry had trouble speaking with people, including his parents.
He tried to be more tender, with Murphy, tried to smile at him and hold conversations. But it was almost painfully awkward.
It turned out, though, that being touchy came easily to him. He found himself hugging and kissing that warm, scruffy neck all the time, enjoyed leaning against broad shoulders and they slept in each other's arms.
They were happy.
Henry was sitting on the couch now, knees parted enough that Murphy could sit between them, on the floor in front of him. He allowed himself to smile softly as they ate pizza and Murphy discovered the joys of modern videogames, while Henry ran his fingers through the frustrated man's hair. Call of Duty had turned out to be Murphy's favorite and though that made Henry cringe a bit… it was an incredibly relaxing way to enjoy their first Saturday together as a couple.
Murphy couldn't help but laugh at Henry's expression as he put the blue-cheese into the shopping cart, twisted and disgusted.
"Oh come on, it's actually really good if you'd just try it."
"You're never coming shopping with me… ever again."
The other man just laughed.
Murphy watched as Henry (long-time-single-bachelor-Townshend) neatly sorted the book on his shelved by author's surnames. The man was particular about every detail in their small house. Sometimes it made Murphy feel incompetent. As the world thought he was dead (and if they didn't, he'd be a wanted man), he couldn't exactly get a job. Henry understood that and allowed him to be a house-boyfriend.
He was a better chef than Henry (having once been a husband and father)… But Henry was clearly obsessive compulsive and cleaning and organizing was his thing.
But if he ever didn't like how Murphy did something, he was always patient and calm as he redid what Murphy had done. It was frustrating, but Henry was happy to have him there none-the-less.
The outskirts of the town seemed to glow as the sun was finally allowed to rise. Murphy blinked in the brightness lifting a hand as a silhouette stood directly in front of it. As his eyes adjusted, he could see a man staring at down at him from a few yards up the street.
"Do you know where we are?" The man called.
"… Silent Hill?" Murphy offered, still a bit stunned at seeing another living being in this place.
"Oh, what the hell." The man covered his face with both hands, seemingly sinking down a bit.
So he knew then.
"NO!" Henry shrieked, grabbing Murphy's wrist roughly. "I'll just open the door and we'll let him go!" The older man struggled in his grip. "He's never done anything to you!"
"That thing is pure evil, look at it!" Murphy pushed Henry out of his way, raising the book once again. "Death in its eyes." He hissed… But Henry wouldn't have it, jumping in front of it once again.
"Don't be stupid, he's just…"
"Why do you keep calling it a he?" Maybe he could throw the book at it… "You can't possibly tell what gender…"
"It doesn't matter! You'll leave him alone or… or I won't let you touch me for a week!" Henry looked serious and Murphy would have laughed in his face if he hadn't been so grumpy about having to get a cup to help release a stupid spider outside.
He could still feel the buzz of anger in the air, the bitter last words snapped at him and the slam of the front door as his convict left… There was a heaviness in his heart and he knew that this was the last time, the last straw. He was so stupid to bring up the past again. He could never leave well-enough alone, could he?! And now…
Now, Murphy was gone.
"Shit." Murphy cursed quietly, a full blast of freezing wind whipping his face the second the door was open. He pulled his coat closer around him, glaring squinted-eyed out to the flurry of white before him.
To his side, Henry chuckled, much more prepared for the weather as he was bundled up with a hat, gloves and a thick winter jacket. "Can't handle a little snow, Pendleton?"
To which Murphy replied with a handful of snow down Henry's jacket.
Murphy carefully took the scrapbook from Henry, his other hand resting on the younger man's opposite shoulder. "Are you sure?"
Henry nodded silently, looking away with his shoulders slumped. "It might help… to talk about it." He mumbled, inching closer to rest his head on Murphy's shoulder… looking down to the book that held the entire story of 302.
Quiet whispers coming from the only room in their shared home, turning quickly to still quiet moans and desperate whimpers. Murphy felt warm hands bury themselves in his hair as his lover trembled and shifted beneath him. He smiled, completely content as he nibbled on Henry's most sensitive spot, a bit of skin just below his earlobe.
Henry was a great guy with a very not terrible past, up until Walter had taken over his life. It didn't matter to Henry that Murphy was an older ex-con who once had a life and an entire existence away from here… All that mattered now was that they could both start over and try to find some sort of happiness in eachother.
Murphy buried his face into the soft fabric of the pillowcase, taking in its freshly cleaned smell and relaxing in what he was sure to be the most comfortable bed in existence. At least, after spending years in prison, sleeping on what felt like a fucking rock, this was heaven.
He felt tired arms wrap around his waist and he turned to greet the nearly-asleep man before he was out cold. He gave Henry a small smile and a quick kiss, before taking him into his arms and letting the man fall asleep on his chest.
It wasn't just the amazing bedding or sense of freedom and security that was going to keep his dreams from nightmares that night…
His hips swayed before me, only vaguely keeping time with the music. Our eyes were locked on one another and I hardly noticed when my fingers played at the hem of his jeans. His smirk sent chills down my spine. "You're beautiful, Henry." I tell him, voice low with lust.
He only chuckles and presses the hot skin of his stomach against my fingertips.
I shake my head, but lean forward and press a kiss to his flushed tummy. He laughs softly again, but this time, he seems nearly breathless, "I… I'm glad you decided to come."
Henry nearly leaped into the older man's arms, relief overcoming him at the sight of Murphy. Sure he was beat up, bruised and bleeding, but he was ALIVE… And that was something that Henry would never take for granted again.
His dark eyes were burned into Henry's mind, a blissful distraction from Walter.
end grouping #1
I appreciate reviews and you can find me at dont-go-out . tumblr . com!