Connor and Murphy hadn't had sex for six months. Not with each other, that is. Their relationship was an on and off thing. Girlfriends came and went – literally since they rarely spent the night – but the brothers were forever. They dated sporadically and if one of them got serious for awhile the other usually hooked up with a girl as well so as not to be left out, because they didn't sleep together when they were involved with the opposite sex. They knew the relationships wouldn't last but some odd sense of honor toward the girls made them abstain from sabotaging things with their own relationship. Women tended to get fed up fairly quickly. They knew going in that the twins were a package deal and they figured it would be fun but they soon realized that dating a MacManus was a short-term affair.
The latest relationships had lasted longer than usual, a fuckin' record in fact. Murphy's girl gave notice first, Connor's followed soon after. Both break-ups happened at McGinty's which wasn't unusual. Ex-girlfriends didn't show up there and the brothers suffered no embarrassment at being dumped publicly. Rocco would play 'Another One Bites the Dust' on Doc's ancient jukebox and order a round in commiseration. He did wonder sometimes if those Irish assholes staged break-ups just to get free drinks.
On the evening in question Murphy was at the bar with Roc and other regulars, having been on his own for several days. Connor and his soon-to-be former girlfriend were at a small table in the corner. It was obvious what was going on, the scene having played out so often before. Connor was smoking silently, face impassive. The girl leaned toward him, talking quietly. She seemed to be asking a question. His response was a slight shake of the head. She said something else. This time he gave a small nod. She picked up her purse and rose from the table. Connor, a gentleman at the end, stood up and kissed her cheek. She left and Connor went to the bar.
'How Can You Mend a Broken Heart' blared from the jukebox and everyone looked startled.
"What?" Rocco demanded. "I can't change it up a little?"
"The Bee Gees?" Everyone roared.
"Two of 'em are twins. I thought it was appropriate!" Rocco was defensive.
"Thanks, Roc," Connor said. "But I think I'll head home." He tossed back his shot and left.
"Think he's really upset?" Rocco asked Murphy. "Was it the song or the girl?"
"The song, of course, you fuckin' idiot," Murphy replied, then he grinned. "Nay. Sometimes Con takes these things to heart for a bit. He'll be fine tomorrow. But I'd best go, too."
Everyone nodded. This was brother stuff.
Murphy shrugged out of his coat, pulled off his tee shirt and unzipped his jeans on the way up the stairs. He was naked ten seconds after stepping into the loft. Connor was standing under the shower facing the wall with arms braced above his head. He smiled over his shoulder.
"Everyone think I'm pining for Lisa?"
"All except Roc. He thinks the new song got to ya."
Connor looked blank for a moment. He had already forgotten. "So ya left early to help mend my broken heart? Well, get to it, then."
And a few minutes later when Murphy entered him, Connor thought 'Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, how could we go so long without this?'
Murphy, buried deep, with one hand on his brother's hip, reached around with his other for Connor's cock and had the same thought 'Christ on a crutch, how could we last six months without this?'
Afterward they collapsed on the cement. They hadn't shut the water off and it was running cold so Connor raised one long leg and turned the faucet with his toes. They lay side by side while their breathing slowed and synched. Connor's left hand was next to Murphy's right, trigger finger tattoos pressed together.
This had been going on for years, long before they learned it was a sin. Maybe that's why they didn't consider it as such. They had wondered if it was so unusual, especially between twins, and thought it might not be. As young boys, who better to experiment with? How else to learn the mysteries of sex than with someone whose body you knew as well as your own? And a few years later when the female form became an object of curiosity they satisfied that curiosity and compared notes and became pretty fuckin' proficient at pleasing their partners. They discovered that they enjoyed female company and liked sex with women. But they always came back to each other.
Despite being so close, they were glad to be fraternal twins rather than identical. For them it wouldn't seem right to look at each other and feel like it was a mirror. They resembled each other only as much as any two brothers might but they had shared a womb and that formed an unbreakable bond. They liked the small differences between themselves. Connor slightly taller and more slender, Murphy's hair a few shades darker, his chest smoother. Connor's cock was longer, Murphy's a thicker fistful.
This intimacy was private not because they were ashamed but because it was for them alone. What they did together existed in a place beyond sin and beyond most people's understanding. Still, they were careful because they owed no one an explanation or even an opportunity to ask questions. It was simpler this way and it was nobody else's fuckin' business.
They were still partially erect and soon their hands reached for each other again and when cocks strained against bellies it was Connor's turn to fill Murphy. Later they rinsed off and went to their separate mattresses. They shared a bed occasionally but didn't need the proximity to feel connected. It was always there. Besides, Connor was a still sleeper and Murphy a restless cover hog and that was a difference that meant they didn't want to share a bed all the time.
Connor slept for a couple of hours. When he awoke he lay quietly until Murphy stirred and his breathing changed.
"Are you awake?"
"Aye." Murphy's voice was still sleepy.
"Care for some company?"
Apparently he wasn't as sleepy as Connor thought because the immediate response was Murphy's body thumping on Connor's mattress. They turned to each other, limbs tangling. Connor hitched Murphy's leg higher and hooked it around his hip so they lay chest to chest, belly to belly, groin to groin. They kissed for awhile, lips renewing familiarity with territory unexplored for months. Stubble rasped against stubble and they both thought 'I missed that.'
They were half hard again but content to lay with cocks pressed together, taking turns moving just enough to keep the friction interesting. Connor lit a cigarette and after a couple of drags he passed it to Murphy without using his hands. He rolled it sideways on his tongue and handed it off to Murphy's tongue. It was a technique they'd been perfecting before the last girlfriends.
"Christ, we're out of practice," Murphy said after a near miss. "We'll be settin' the sheets on fire."
"Fuck the sheets," Connor replied. "You dropped ash on my chest."
Murphy nudged the cigarette to the corner of his mouth and leaned down carefully to lick a decent portion of Connor's chest, giving special attention to his nipples.
"Ahhh," Connor sighed with pleasure. "That's some skillful tongue work, brother."
"It's all coming back to me now," Murphy quoted. "When I touch you like this and you hold me like that."
"Ma liked that song."
"She probably didn't think of her sons buggering each other when she heard it."
Murphy successfully passed the rapidly dwindling butt to Connor. One long suck and it was gone.
"Ya know, this is almost health conscious," Connor mused. "We're burnin' more than we smoke."
"But we're smokin' twice as many," Murphy said as he lit another.
"Ye're right," Connor agreed. "Fuck healthy."
"If ya can't smoke after sex, why bother?" Murphy paused. "Wait, that didn't sound right."
"Glad ye're finally hearing yerself," Connor said. "Because I'd fuck ya even if we were out of smokes."
"Are we homos, do ya think?" Murphy asked.
"Not quite."
"Hetero?" Murphy sounded doubtful.
"Not completely."
"Bi-sexual, then."
"Not exactly."
"I'm runnin' out of options, Con."
Times like this, their conversation ranged from silly to serious to downright philosophical. Not unusual for the Irish. A few drinks and anyone could be a warrior-poet-philosopher.
"We're not quite gay because we only do this with each other," Connor explained. "I'm not attracted to any other men."
"Me, neither," Murphy replied. "But we're not completely straight because we do this with each other and it's not a one-time thing. It won't end until we're dead."
"Not even then."
"Think we're going to hell?"
"It's likely. But I'd rather burn with you in hell than without you in heaven."
"Aye. We burn for each other either way."
"So it's best not to try and label ourselves," Connor said. "We've never been ones to fit in."
"Ya fit me well enough."
"We fit each other, ya filthy-minded mick."
Connor was pleasantly drowsy and starting to drift off when Murphy began talking about work and which mass they should attend in the morning and any other fuckin' subject he could think of because he wasn't tired and saw no reason why his twin shouldn't stay awake to entertain him.
"If I make ya come again, will ya shut it?" Connor asked.
"Well, not while ye're doin' the deed," Murphy replied. "But I'll probably fall asleep right after."
"Ye're sure you couldn't be quiet during?"
"I'm a moaner, ya know. And I like to let ya know how ye're doing. Encouragement, ya see."
"Positive reinforcement, is it? I appreciate yer thoughtfulness."
They were both moving now and the rubbing sensations built to a slow, satisfying climax.
"We should clean up," Connor murmured.
"Too comfortable to move," Murphy mumbled.
"We'll be glued together by morning."
"I can live with that."
They slept.