Nicholas: Heh, Becki and I worked together on this one for the beginning, but then she got lazy and decided to leave it up to me to finish it, silly lady.
Becki:So, I had the brilliant idea one night, and proposed it to Nick, who got all excited and (I'm sure) jumped up and down. I was inspired by the way of two writers on livejournal(dot)com wrote a Norman and Sean epic arc. I believe the first thing I did was IM Nick and say, "you're Connor, give me a list of 10 things you want for Christmas from Murph…" and I wrote mine as Murphy. We sat on the smut for about a month now, and Nick completed the finish to it – because apparently I got lazy. Happy early Christmas people!
Disclaimer: Not my or hers...but both of ours together hehehe...Nope, Duffy owns these fuckers...we just manipulate them as we will.
Rating: M...smut...smut...smut...
"Fuck, it's too damn cold in here." Murphy grumbled, snuggling into the thread-bare sofa a little closer, inevitably pressing closer to his twin, whose arms were wrapped tightly around his shivering body. "Hmmm, that's better." He sighed, leaning into Connor's embrace. Being in Boston has its advantages and disadvantages. The freezing cold winters are definitely a strike on the 'disadvantage' side. Although, snuggling close to Connor is cause for Murphy to change it to the 'advantage' column.
Connor always took it upon himself to make Murphy comfortable, so he rubbed the other's arm to create friction. "Winters like ta sneak up on us, don't they," he muttered with a smirk. It was too drafty in this uninsulated apartment even in the warmer times of the year. Winter was just something else entirely. "We need a blanket."
"Aye, that they do." Murphy agreed quietly, intending on ignoring the cold of the flat and embracing the warmth of his lover. "What we need is a heavy ass quilt. We ought ta get ta tha second-hand store after next payday. Can't survive tha winter with the stupid fucken' throws we've got now." Murphy rolled in Connor's arms, pressing himself closer to so the men lay chest to chest. "Reminds me, what will ye be wantin' fer Christmas, Luv?"
That was a very good question. As Connor thought about it, he made the delayed realization that Winter did, in fact, equal Christmas. Heh, that holiday that everyone made so superficial. Since when does the birth of Christ mean presents? "I'm not sure," he said instead of voicing his thoughts. "What about ye? What d'ya want?"
"Other than ye, ye mean?" Murphy was always the one with the feisty remarks. "I haven't really given it much thought. I do know we can't wait until Christmas fer a damn blanket." Murphy once again complained, nuzzling his face into the crook of Connor's neck. Sooner, rather than later, Connor would realize Murphy was feigning being cold to use as an excuse to cuddle. "Maybe we should make lists, like Ma used ta have us do?" What a great excuse to make an entire list of sexy to-do items?
With a quiet chuckle, Connor petted the hair on the back of his brother's head softly. He didn't care how silly this little act of his freezing to death was; it made them both feel good to be close. "Make lists?" for a moment the idea seemed preposterous. Then, as he entertained with little, short scenarios that he could have on that list, he smiled widely. "Knowing without a doubt what your list would consist of, I think Ma would have a stroke over what you'd do with the idea."
"Possibly, but what she don't know won't hurt her. Unless, ye plan on runnin' ta Mommy and tellin' her tha naughty things I want ta do ta ye fer Christmas?" Murphy knew his brother was just being a twit, so he decided to be one right back. "Tha list is a right good idea, don't go mockin' it. Just tell me what yer wantin' and we'll see about makin' all yer Holiday wishes come true." Murphy's lips moved against the skin of his brother's neck, slightly muffled, but Murphy knew Connor would be able to feel his words, if he couldn't hear them.
With a quiet, steady groan at the warm sneaking up to the tips of his ears, Connor allowed himself a chuckle. We'll see who's runnin' ta Mommy, ya twat! Firmly, but gently all the same, he gripped Murphy's hair and pulled him away, just enough to see his face. "All o' me holiday wishes? An' that prob'ly means I have ta grant yers as well..." he assumed.
A slight purr/moan escaped Murphy's lips at the pull of his hair. "Yer only pullin' me away 'cause ye like it too much?" Murphy accused. "Well o' course ye have ta fulfill me wishes as well ye idjit. Don't think I'mma be doin' all tha wish-grantin', ye greedy bastard." His eyes narrowed before rolling them in mock annoyance. "Come on, Conn… admit it, ye think it's a good idea. I know yer already plottin' somethin' in that thick head o' yers." Murphy poked Connor's forehead with a cold finger to accentuate his point.
Connor grabbed the hand that poked him and glared playfully into Murphy's eyes. "Yer right, I am. An' let me tell ya, ye better know what yer gettin' yerself inta with somethin' like this." Murphy's hands were cold (colder than his even), so Connor decided the best way to heat him up would be to suck one of those fingers into the warmth of his mouth. After a moment of tasting a rough, nicotine-stained digit, he smirked. "We each get ten," he stated lightly, lapping lightly at the wet finger, "That way ya don' go overboard."
"I know exactly what I'm getting' inta, Ma." Murphy was suddenly warmed by the heat of Connor's mouth lapping away at his finger. Images of other things Connor does with that mouth of his flashed in Murphy's mind's eye. "Fuck, Conn… yer killin' me with that mouth o' yers." Smirking, Murphy removed his finger from the confines of Connor's mouth, and placed a soft kiss upon those tempting lips. "Aye, ten it is then; anythin' ye can dream up. Anythin'!" Murphy accentuated the last use of 'anything' with the rolling of his hips against his brother's.
Groaning quietly, Connor automatically bucked up against his lover. "I won't kill ya...least ways, not before I take advantage o' this sinful body o' yers." His hands moved down to grip Murphy's thighs, holding on for dear life, really. He let his teeth nip carefully in a line along the other's throat. "And by anythin', I'm sure ya already have half o' yer list thought up, then?" It then occurred to him (in the back of his mind) to wonder if they had to write it down.
"Takin' advantage o' me sounds like a right good way ta warm us up." Murphy's lips were on Connor's in a heartbeat. He moaned into his lover's mouth at the feeling of his body being gripped. "Mmm, Conn feels nice." Murphy could never get enough of Connor's mouth on him… or his hands, or his eyes, or his anything else. "Aye, I've got a few things I've been thinkin' of fer a while now. We'll need ta put 'em on paper tho… gotta keep me thoughts straight." Somehow (and Murphy isn't really sure how) Connor's shirt was mysteriously removed from his body and was tossed onto the floor just a few inches below. Murphy's (still) cold hands roamed the muscular span of his lover's back with needy pressure. "Conn…"
Connor hissed at the chill of those roaming fingers and pulled the other impossibly closer. At this point, he was pretty sure that warming up had become a moot point and that Murphy was looking for something a little more scandalous. "We don't..." he took a breath to calm himself as his hands impulsively moved to grip the front of Murphy's jeans. "We don't have paper, luv." He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he dragged Murphy's mouth down against his own and kissed him heavily. A wet, smacking sound escaped from between them as that kiss multiplied into many. "Perhaps," he began between smooches, "that's somethin'...else ta pick...up with the quilt..."
"Oh ta hell with tha paper and quilt talk; I've got other plans fer us right now. We'll go ta tha store… Fuck!" Murphy's thoughts were lost between his brain and mouth when he felt Connor's hands at his jeans. Murphy's tongue lapped at Connor's hardened nipples; biting softly to extract the pretty sounds he knew his twin was capable of making. "You'd better take me ta bed, Connor. Yer not gonna fuck me on this couch again. Last time, I ended up on the carpet with a gash me head from tha fall. Yer such a wild man." Murphy whispered into Connor's ear before untangling himself from his lover's arms to rise from the couch. Once he was on his feet he extended his hand to Connor. "Ta bed with us."
It was made into a silent agreement that they'd make that trip to the store...sooner or later. Murphy was right. There were currently better things to do. Once he felt his arms suddenly become empty, he gave a low, annoyed growl, like the wild man that he was. Standing, he ignored his brother's hand and instead scooped him up off of his feet to make the short dash to his bed in record time. "Bed, indeed," he grumbled, pulling the shirt away from Murphy's chest with an explainable vigor. He immediately leaned down to drag his tongue up the crevice of his twin's sternum.
Releasing a sharp yelp, Murphy felt himself being picked up like a rag doll and rushed across the room, before being dropped onto the bed. All before he had any idea what was really going on. Once his twin's weight settled atop him, and he felt his shirt stripped from his body, he recognized the wild man in Connor and smiled in triumph. "Yer easily manipulated, brother. All I needed ta do was complain about supposedly being cold and snuggle ye some, and here ye are ready ta fuck me senseless." Hissing with pleasure at the warm sensation of Connor's tongue on his chest, Murphy bucked his hips up to Connor's "All in a days work; I love it when a plan comes tagether…" Murphy gloated, scratching his bitten nails up his brothers back.
"Ah yer downfall, dear lover," Connor snickered, hands kneading at the other's firm, tense thighs, massaging through the denim of their prison. "Yer evil plans never go unpunished. Ye should know this by now." As he began to undo Murphy's fly, he licked his way up the pale flesh of his left pec before stopping dead and looking up into the true-blue of the irises that matched his own. "Now pay attention." In less than a second, Connor's teeth sunk deep into tender skin while his nimble fingers finally found their way into Murphy's boxer-shorts.
The feeling of jagged teeth sinking into his already sweaty skin was drowned out by the amazing feeling of Connor's strong hands gripping him under his boxers. "Oh Jesus, Connor. Yes…" Murphy was always a one-track mind kind of person. Forming a coherent sentence while Connor stroked him was out of the question. Thus, Murphy made sure to express his gratitude for the pleasure he was being given by offering up as many touches and moans as possible, knowing that Connor loved to hear Murphy's reactions to him. "Connor, don't tease me... please? I'm too cold ta be layin' here naked fer too long." Murphy giggled (but would deny it if Connor questioned it), knowing that Connor knew he wasn't cold in the slightest, but was just being impatient.
All of those delightful sounds Murphy made--moans, groans and whimpers--they all succeeded in directing Connor's blood flow to a more useful purpose. He started to sweat like it was the middle of summer in Miami, Florida. Adding a little suction to where he'd just bitten, he made sure that the mark turned a deep, painful red before he moved his tongue just a bit lower to lavish attention on Murphy's alert nipple. "Oh hush," he muttered against sensitive flesh. He tightened his grip on his brother's hard-on before his other hand worked at getting those boxers down and off.
"Ye know what, ye little prick, I know of a better use fer yer mouth than smartin' off at me. Fuckin' tell me ta hush… ye bastard." Murphy's protests at being told to shut up were half hearted, given that he really couldn't do much about it in his current position; well other than complain mildly, of course. Murphy's hips rose from the bed, assisting Connor with banishing the damned material from his skin. "Now yer just wearin' too much clothes Connor… need ye naked and pressed against me." Murphy's artistic hands worked quickly at releasing the button-fly of Connor's jeans, before impatiently pushing the material down those strong (and delicious) hips and thighs.
That nasty little complaint...Connor let it go. He had no other choice at the moment. He wouldn't dare try to spite Murphy when they both needed this so much. Momentarily abandoning his grip on his lover, Connor successfully shoved the pesky pair of pants away and let them hit the floor with a rustle of fabric. "So needy...ya little bastard," Connor panted out, digging a hand underneath the other's back to pull him up against his chest. "I know what ya want better than ye do." His knee forced its way between Murphy's thighs to spread them to a position that Connor thought looked wonderful with the pale one: naked, breathless and splayed over the bed in some pre-fuck, drug-like haze that descended on the both of them. He kissed Murphy's thin lips and pushed them apart with his tongue.
Seeing Connor's nakedness never failed to steal Murphy's breath from his lungs, leaving him light-headed and woozy. So much in fact, he almost didn't register the names his brother was calling him. "Always need ye Conn. Yer my everythin' ya know." A moment of rarity, Murphy was being tender instead of a pain in the ass. A moment was all it was however, because a snotty remark followed the sweet one off of Murphy's lips. "And just what the fuck makes ye think ye know me better than I know meself, ye cocksucker… huh? Enlighten me?" Murphy was waiting for a response, but was instead blessed with his brother's tongue pushing its way into his mouth.
Connor's tongue tore the comment away and swallowed it down so that it almost seemed that it hadn't been said at all. I'm yer fuckin' twin, Connor mused, though his mouth still out of commission at the moment. Tha' s how I know ya better. Both of his hands ran down the flat of Murphy's stomach and over hips and behind thighs to pull them up and around his waist. The kiss broke off with a wet plop. "How much d'ya want me, Murph?" He already knew the answer, just needed to hear it again.
"Ye daft git, how can ye ask me that?" Murphy was already as hard as a rock, and he knew damn well Connor could feel it, what with their bodies being pressed so close and all. "Connor…" Murphy whined, not wanting to admit aloud just how needy he was for his twin right at that moment. Instead, he squished his hand between their bodies and gripped Connor's thick shaft, giving it a few squeezes before stroking teasingly. "I want ye, Connor," Murphy paused, placing a soft, wet kiss upon his beloved's throat, "Just as much as ye want me… if not more." Murphy brought his legs to wrap around Connor's waist, heels pushing into Connor's bare backside with urgency.
With a low, animalistic growl, Connor found himself quaking against his lover's form. "Then have my lips the sin that they have took," he muttered in Murphy's ear, licking a wet trail down to his jaw. He had a love of Shakespeare, and he knew that Murphy was perfectly aware of that. It took all of his self control not to let Murphy get him off with his hand. Reaching between them, he grabbed the other's wrist and yanked it away before pinning it to the bed next to his head. "Are ya...ready?" of course he knew he didn't have to ask, he just liked pissing off his twin.
"Sin from my lips? O God! Give me my sin again" Murphy spouted a line he knew could only cause his brother to kiss him harder, longer, and more passionately. Christ, but he loved the feeling of Connor in his hand, but that was abruptly taken away from him and he couldn't help but to growl. "I was doin' somethin' with that, ya know?" Murphy loved rough Connor, so when his hands were pinned to the bed, he made no further complaints. "I'm ready… grab the lube then. Or were ye plannin' on fuckin' me dry and causin' me all sorts o' pain fer the next week?" Murphy tried to keep a teasing tone, but was very serious about the lube. Connor had recently gotten so wrapped up in their sexual activities that he'd forgotten about the all-too-important lubrication; which left Murphy in pain for several days after.
Wincing, Connor recalled Murphy's limp last week and that it had been his fault. He would never stop regretting that, but it didn't need to distract him for too long. "Don't worry," he cooed, releasing one wrist and reaching under the pillow towards the head of the bed. "I thought ahead." His hand returned with a small bottle and he gave his twin a cheeky grin. "Thought ye were the only one with plans fer taday, did ya?"
"I'm not worried… just, if ye want ta be rough with me like that, tell me… so I know ta expect not ta be sittin' right fer a while. Aye?" Murphy was ok with the idea of no lube every once in a while, after all, pain is pleasure right? Catching a glimpse of the small bottle Connor now cradled, Murphy became even more impatient and thought the idea of talking was getting more than annoying. "Come on then, fuck me Connor. Stop stallin' with all yer Shakespeare and bullshit." Murphy's lips immediately latched onto Connor's collarbone and went about leaving a mark to rival the one Connor'd left on his chest minutes prior.
Unscrewing the cap with a beautiful flourish of delay, Connor worked at taking his time, just to show Murphy who was in charge in this particular endeavor. "I'll have ya know that Shakespeare was a master of his art." Connor punctuated this sentence with a harsh grind of his hips as he coated his fingers in that slippery liquid. It was utterly clear that he had his lover dangling on a string, and he was intent on getting a least one coherent line from Murphy that didn't involve some sarcastic remark. He'd drag this out as long as he had to. Reaching down, Connor traced the slick finger over Murphy's opening before pressing inside to prepare him.
"Connor, yer takin' yer time just ta spite me, and I know it." Murphy writhed at the sensation if his twin's beautiful finger pressing into him. "Fuck, mmm… feels good Conn. More, please?" this song and dance that they did, happened often enough that Murphy needed less preparation than Connor does, but Murphy knew Connor was just dead-set on teasing him. He could see a spark of something in Connor's eyes. It bothered him; he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Yer needin' some lovin' words then, aren't ye?" Murphy would make fun of Connor except he could see how on edge Connor's need was making him.
"Connor, look at me." Murphy gripped Connor's face in his palms to look at his twin eye-to-eye, "I love ye, so fuckin' much. Yer my reason fer livin' ye know that… right?" Much to his own surprise, Murphy's eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. "I'mma make yer Christmas tha best yet… if ye'll let me o' course?" Murphy finished with a smile.
It was just what he was looking for and it almost made his muscles go so weak he couldn't move. Connor knew he had to, though. Withdrawing his finger, he took more of the lubricant and used it to coat his pulsing erection. "I'll let ya, ya never have ta ask," Connor stated, his voice a tad bit dry from nothing else but the loving seriousness of his brother's serenade. "God never made more perfect a creature than ye, my love," he praised him. Carefully, after so much ado about nothing, Connor aligned himself right, gripped Murphy's hips to hold him still and then slid himself inside that tight heat that never ceased to amaze him. He kissed his brother on the forehead as he pushed himself hilt-deep inside him.
Whining momentarily as Connor withdrew that finger from within him, Murphy smiled at his twin. "Sometimes I need ta hear ye say it Connor; that yer willin' ta let me pamper ye." Murphy retorted softly. "I'm not tha perfect one Conn, ye are. Always have been and always will be." Murphy's praise fell on deaf ears, he could tell. "Connor… please?" it seemed like Connor was taking his sweet time, and the impatient part of Murphy gripped those muscular shoulders as Connor eased inside of him, filling him completely and perfectly. "That feels like home." Murphy admitted softly. He knows he shouldn't be embarrassed in front of his twin, but that admission (as soft as it was) was more than enough to make his face flush with pink color.
"Stop blowin' smoke up me arse," Connor muttered half-heartedly, "I need ta focus on yers." The last thing he knew he was perfect. For a moment, he just rested; feeling his brother's muscles contract and relax around him in that lovely, never-ending buzz of movement that was Murphy. How incomplete his twin would be without the constant need to move and not be still. Connor could have stayed like this forever--hilt deep inside his lover, pulsing and wanting it to never end--but he knew better than to think it would sate Murphy. At first, he began slow, drawing out in a languid bend of his hips, and pushing back in just the same. "Why can't we just die like this? Stay just like this on into eternity...?"
"Oh here I am tryin' ta be romantic and yer makin' fun." Murphy faked being upset, but that didn't last long. The feeling of Connor thrusting in and out of him at a slow, torturous pace was enough to drive him mad. Which, Murphy was surer than sure that that's exactly what Connor was going for. "We can't stay like this 'cause it's too difficult ta drink beer and smoke while yer buried balls-deep inside me." Murphy joked, realizing he too was making light of the situation even after chastising his twin. Murphy's hands gripped Connor's hair, bringing him down for an unexpected kiss. After several moments of slow kissing and even slower fucking, Murphy wanted more. "Connor, fuck me already. Don't be such a fuckin' sissy about it. I'm not gonna break."
Connor moaned against his brother's mouth at that spontaneous liplock. The sting of hair being pulled shot through his scalp into his brain adding a different fog to the ecstatic haze already filling his mind. He'd meant to say something like If you insist, just in spite of his brother, but he couldn't bring himself to speak as he let his hips snap forward in a sudden, merciless thrust. An adrenaline rush ensured immediate speed, accuracy and strength as he set up his inoutinout rhythm in his twin. "Tell me ya love me," he panted into his brother's hair, his arms wrapped tightly around the other's shoulders. "Tell me ya love me more 'en the whole world..."
Fuck, Murphy should know better than to taunt his brother like that after all these years (twenty-eight to be exact). However, he just can't help himself when the opportunity arrives, no matter how intimate they're being at the moment. He knew Connor would rise to the challenge and deliver just what Murphy was seeking, if not more. At the first brutal thrust of Connor's hips, Murphy felt his eyes squeeze closed with a hiss, "Fuck!" Murphy shouted. "Mmm yes. Keep goin' baby… just like that Luv." Murphy encouraged his brother's movements with his words. The hands that once held Connor's lips to his own are now wriggling their way between the two bodies, pinching and pulling softly at Connor's nipples. "Touch me lover, touch me." Murphy pleaded in a whisper. "I love ye more than life, more than air… fuck more than God himself; yer my fuckin' reason fer living. Don't ye see it, Conn – ya are my world!"
"Ah, fuck!" Connor whimpered, pressing his face hard against the other's and getting much needed breaths in pants that slammed into his labored lungs with an almost bruising force. "Just needed ta hear it...love ta hear ya..." And that was so near the truth that nothing else need be said. He heard his brother's plea and tried to situate some sort of balance on his shoulder so that he wouldn't break his stride. Nimble fingers and graceful hands traced the sinfully familiar contours of Murphy's chest down to his narrow hips. "Yer the air I breathe." Connor stroked in loving pets against his brother's swollen erection. "My sun, my moon." It was all to hear more, feel more, that the blond chose this contact. With just the right angling, Connor knew he had the right spot, and as he drove back in, he gripped Murphy by the manhood and squeezed him hard.
"Christ almighty, Connor – yes! Yer fuckin' making me come undone here." Murphy was nearly crying with pleasure and that last brutal thrust over his prostate, coupled with the hard squeeze to his aching dick really did it for him. Murphy's orgasm hit like a hurricane and sent his body into a fit of shakes, nearly knocking Connor off balance. Murphy realized he was shifting Connor, and grabbed his shoulder to stabilize him. His nails unconsciously dug into the soft skin of Connor's shoulders as Murphy screamed his brother's name in pure ecstasy. If it weren't for the insistent pounding of Connor's body into his own, Murphy would have blacked out completely, having lost all sense of up from down, left from right, hot from cold. One thing he didn't lose sight of, was the amazing vision that was a sweaty and panting Connor writhing above him. "Come fer me Connor…"
No reply. Too intently focused on the matter at hand, Connor couldn't bring himself to reply. A loud gasp shimmied past his vocal cords at feeling those muscles contract around him. A warm (too hot, so hot) pressure made itself known in a screaming frenzy at the pit of his stomach and he pressed on past Murphy's orgasm seeking his own while at the same time dreading it, wishing this feeling would last forever. He felt so careless thrusting into his brother with more passion than there is in hellfire, it blurred his vision, made his mind go blank so that all he could register was the panted command from below him. "God!" he cried out in exultation. The next thing to pass his lips was nearer a scream shaped and molded into the dark twin's name as Connor tumbled over that inevitable end. Releasing deep inside his lover/brother/friend, he let that high-pitched squeak that had been thrashing for freedom finally fly free and float about the room. Shakily, he placed a loving kiss on the other's chest as the rest of his body came to a shuddering halt--unable to move, barely able to breathe.
After a long, awkward episode of trying to shimmy their way under blankets while keeping their bodies as close as possible, the twins cuddled together long into the afternoon. The sweat from their wonderful exertion made them both realize that—Murphy's teasing aside—they were both very cold. They stayed like that as long as they could, clinging to naked flesh and holding, stroking, loving each other just for a few minutes longer. Connor dreaded when they finally would have to get up and got out in search of the things that they'd planned to buy. Murphy just let the heat of his lover soak into him as the minutes rolled by. Time wasn't something he fought, rather it was something he cherished. It was he who finally broke the silence.
"Um…" he breathed, nuzzling his face against Connor's firm chest, "What time is it?"
"Saturday," the other replied flatly.
"We oughtta get out o' bed, don't ya think?"
With a groan, the blond ran his hand up the small of Murphy's back and inched him impossibly closer under the thin sheets. "Honestly? I think we should just say ta hell with it an' hybernate fer the winter." His lips brushed softly over dark hair and a pale temple.
"If only we could." However, after the dreamy statement, Murphy started to ease his way out of his brother's iron embrace. He chuckled lightly when he felt those arms just cling tighter and a hand sneak down to his ass to push him fully against the other's naked form. "Now, Conn, ya got three seconds ta let me go or I'll be sleepin' in me own bed tanight."
With his face buried in between the pillow and his twin's head, Connor hesitated uncertainly. "Ya wouldn't dare."
"One…" As if by clockwork, the tan arms unwound from pale shoulders and Murphy was free. "Knew ya'd see things my way." He slipped off the bed and immediately began a frantic search for clothes to fight of the chill of the apartment. "Now get off yer ass an' come shoppin' with me."
"Ugh…" Defeated, Connor pulled the pillow over his head and just snuggled deeper into the now empty bedclothes. As far as he was concerned, this was a weekend, which meant not only that they didn't have to work but that he had the luxury of sleeping whenever he wanted. It had only been about two hours since he fucked his brother into the mattress and he did not see that as enough recovery time. "Go ahead without me."
Pulling on "might be clean" jeans, Murphy glanced over at what of his friend that wasn't covered and just smirked wryly. "Lazy-ass," he snickered. Somehow, he found a long-sleeved, turtle-neck, which he was certain belonged to his brother. Not caring, he pulled it on and retrieved his coat from the table. "Don't stay in bed all day, please."
It was ridiculous how high and low Murphy had to search to find an affordable-yet-warm blanket this close to wintertime. He found himself dirt broke because he'd bought a king-sized quilt. If it didn't happen to be warm enough, they could always fold it in half and have double insulation. As he was on his way home, he contemplated how to get his brother's ass out of bed—being that he was aware that the man hadn't budged.
Hoisting the bundle of the new blanket under his arm, he thrust the door open and his gaze immediately fell on the bed. Sure enough, Connor was lying there, even breaths coming in and out from his lungs. So he had moved—his back was now toward the door instead of his front—but he was still a lazy-ass. Murphy went to their table and set the blanket down to unwrap it. Then, something odd caught his eye. A pad of lined, yellow paper and a pack of blue ink, ballpoint pens lay on the edge of the tabletop.
"What's this?" he wondered aloud. The pack was torn open and the first page was written over with Connor's loopy, scrawled handwriting. "Dear Murphy" caught his eye. So the bastard had gone out today. He'd gone to get paper and then sneaked back in bed. He probably wasn't even asleep. With a snide glare at his twin's back, Murphy sat down on the couch to read the letter.
Dear Murphy,
I'm sure you are probably shaking your head stupidly at my silly, asinine prank here, but I know you'll humor me because you love me. I went to get paper while you were out, as you can plainly see. So here is my Christmas list. Don't laugh too hard, I really am sleeping over there.
1. I want to sleep on the beach, on a blanket in the middle of the night while cuddled up next to one another. That would be a little slice of heaven in itself.
2. I want there to be one day of the year where you tell me you love me after every sentence. Not that you need to tell me, you prove it often enough.
3. I've always wondered what it would be like to have sex on the deck of a boat in the middle of the ocean. That is something I definitely want to do.
4. I want a camera so I can take a picture of every inch of your body and keep them in a little photo album labeled 'Places I've Been'.
5. I want to wake up with my arms around you every morning for the rest of our short lives.
6. Whenever I take a shower, I want you to be the one to always offer to wash my back.
7. I want your vow that you'll never leave my side, Murph. Through thick or thin, I know I'll always have a shoulder to cry on so long as you just stay with me.
8. Whether we're at home or in a public place, I want to be able to molest whenever I want.
9. I want you to seduce me with your words, then your touches…
Murphy's grin widened at number ten, and he couldn't help but reach down and cup himself where he was becoming aroused. He read it again and again to himself, his smile widening wildly. "Murph...Before God himself, without fear of discovery... Consequences don't exist right now (just fer a moment), so take me now. Make me feel it...fer a week at least..." Oh how exquisite a way to offer himself that was. Ideas had suddenly begun to flutter about Murphy's head concerning his own Christmas list, but he'd have time for that later.
Quietly, he folded the little note and set it with the pad and pen back on the table before he unwrapped the quilt. Making his way over to the bed, he let the blanket unfold itself and then he flung it over the bed where Connor was in his obvious semblance of sleep. Murphy leaned in, head hovering just above his brother's ear. "I can fulfill number ten right now," he murmured and smirked as the other shivered in excitement.
The blanket really was very warm and even though at some point they'd kicked it off in their sweaty, heated sex-capades, Murphy retrieved it once more and spooned against Connor's back as the cold of the coming winter was finally actually gone. "Good job, Murph," the blond stated, quietly.
"What, with the blanket? Er d'ya mean fuckin' ya senseless in front of God Himself? An' by the way, ya didn't capitalize the 'h' when ya wrote it."
"Shut it, ya twit." He reached back and gently gripped a handful of his lover's damp hair. "I was in a hurry when I wrote it. Didn't know when ya'd be back." Genteel, loving fingers weaved in and out of Murphy's dark strands and massaged softly against the scalp. "So I'm a romantic git, sue me."
"No, I love that about you. Just, ya made me want ta make a list ta out-do yers."
"Well, have ya got any ideas yet?"
"Many, many things, lover. So many things I don't think that pad o' paper is enough ta write them all down. O' course, ya said I'm only allowed ten, so that makes fer a kick in the ass tryin' ta pick an' choose. There's just so much I want ya ta do ta me, it's not fair." After he finished speaking, his mouth lingered up to the back of the other's ear and nipped playfully at the sensitive flesh there. His arms wrapped tightly around Connor's torso as he pushed his hips seamlessly against the curve of his rear. "Most o' them are kinky, tho'."
With a chuckle came the reply: "There are other holidays, mon amoreaux."
"Ah, ya just want kinky sex, ya pervert."
"Yeah…well…" With a playfully indignant groan, Connor rolled from his side onto his back, twisting awkwardly in his embrace. "What's yer list, Murphy? Tell me, will ya? I told ya mine already."
"I still gotta write mine down."
"No ya don't. Not yet. Just tell me a few…please?" He made a pouty face and ran his fingers suggestively down Murphy's abdomen.
With a smirk, Murphy cupped Connor's cheek and looked him intently in the face. "Oh, could those eyes get any bigger," he muttered teasingly. "Fine, I'll tell ya mine, but ya better fuckin' listen. I didn't laugh at yers, don't ya fuckin' giggle."
"Scout's Honor," Connor stated, putting his hand over his heart.
"You aren't a Boy Scout, jack ass."
"Just tell me!"
"Alright. Number one." At this point, Murphy gave himself the luxury of a thoughtful pause to organize his current thoughts. Unnecessary junk and sexual fantasies were chased away to make room for something more important. Adjusting his grip on Connor, he tugged the man's hips over the mattress and against him snugly. "A bath. A long bath. Ya sittin' behind me in tha cold water on a hot day. Yer arms wrapped around me, holdin' me close an' cleansin' my body with yer hands." To accentuate his desire, he cupped Connor's left hand and pulled against his chest and held it there.
"I like that," Connor muttered with a smile. "Need ta wait 'til summer, tho'. Number two?"
"Hm…Yer gonna like this one," the dark one assured him. "I want ta drink beer from yer body. Slurp it away with every caress o' my tongue over yer sun-kissed skin. Every. Single. Inch." These last three words, he punctuated with little licks of his tongue over Connor's neck. "And number three: I want ta buy ye a ring. Not necessarily a weddin' ring, but one ye can wear ta symbolize that yer mine forever and for always."
"That en't a wish if yer the one doin' tha buyin'."
"I'm gonna pick it out," Murphy boasted cheekily.
"Oh, I see…I'll suffer through it, I think. Now! Number four!"
"Impatient bastard. Yer lucky I love ya." Pulling the blanket a little higher up both of their shoulders, Murphy considered his next wish for a while. There were a lot of things, really, and he was having a hell of a time trying to choose just one. He settled with something kinky. "I want ta paint my entire body in edible paint, and have ye eat it off o' me."
"I think I just grew an inch," Connor mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of his brother's neck.
"I'm guessin' that ya wanna do that one as well?" The dark one chuckled when felt that head nod against him. He reached up with determined hands and wriggled lithe fingers into blond locks. "Number five. I wanna adopt a pet tagether. Name it Willem Dafoe an' dress it up in cute clothes." Ignoring a loud, and boorish "you faggot" from his chest, he went on. Let Connor think what he would. This was Murphy's list, after all. "Number six…how about… I wanna dress ye up in an expensive suit an' take ye for a night on tha town, then bring ye home an' take that suit off o' ya with my teeth."
"Why does it seem like yer list was taken outta my head?"
"Shhhh…number seven. I want ye ta make love ta me on a park bench, in tha middle o' tha night. No worries about anyone passin' by an' seein' us because, even if they do, it shouldn't matter, right?" For a moment, Murphy paused to properly take in the sensation of Connor quivering against him in some delighted, euphoric buzz caused by just the simple words flowing from the pale twin's mouth. Murphy absolutely loved it, and he cherished every moment for as long as he could. Then the other nudged him in the side to go on. "Number eight, then. I want ye ta mark my body. Be it a tattoo or a brand… whatever ye decide. Pick it out an' pick a spot on my body an' I'll do it. I want something permanent ta remind us both that I'm yers."
At that, the blond gave an excited gasp and looked up into his love's eyes. Drawing a hand up from the mattress, he slid it between Murphy's thighs and pressed his thumb against the area that lay just at the crease of the skin before the pubic hair. "There," he stated firmly.
"The choice is yours." The statement was almost whispered on the breath that Connor was once more succeeding in taking away from him. "Can't think of a number nine…"
"Yes ya can," Connor stated stubbornly. His gaze once more dropped so that he could nuzzled his nose and cheeks into the soft skin of his brother's neck, but his hand didn't bother moving. He let his fingers brush over secret places and listened closely for even the quietest little evidences of his instigation. "Yer on a roll, don' stop now."
"Fine… I want ye ta shave me body, make me soft as a baby's arse. Just once, ta see how it feels, how's that?"
"Oooo. I wouldn't mind that at all."
Once more, there was a long pause between brothers as Murphy considered his next and final wish. I had to be somethin nice, something heartfelt. Then again, it could just as well be something kinky to get another rise out of Connor. Either way it would be granted without a doubt. "Here's number ten, sweetheart…my last item on my list… I want ta set a date fer us to celebrate an actual anniversary. On the next anniversary date, I wanna make love ta ye, an' film it."
Time hung in the air as Connor's hand stopped moving and pulled away. He picked his head up from the other's chest against and Murphy was a bit nervous by the look he got. Maybe that was pushing kink just a bit too far—though in all honesty, they'd gone much farther many time before. "How the hell're we gonna afford a video camera?" Oh so that was it, just a matter of finances. It was a good thing too, because Murphy thought he was getting kicked out of bed by the expression on his twin's face.
"Alicia has one, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, but…'Hey Alicia, can I borrow yer camera,' would have ta be followed by a reason why. I'm certain ya don' wanna go down there ta say ' I need ta record hardcore porn with my brother, can I use yer video camera?' an' in all honesty, that's probably the last thing she wants ta hear."
"C'mon, she knows about us by now. It's kinda hard not ta hear us through the thin walls."
"Whatever…" Connor just shut up and gave in, laying down on the pillow and looking dreamily into eyes that matched his own. He didn't want to fight about this now. there were other, more important things to worry about. The main thing being that they were going to have an awesome Christmas.