Nick: Spontaneous ficlet to cheer Becki up. I hope she likes it or I just fail at life. Either way, I like it

Of all the times of day to be doing this why did midnight sounded so opportune... The studio flat had not electric lighting anymore so they used candles and that kind of illumination played tricks on the walls with opaque fingers. Tiny, black figures mingled in a massive throng up to the ceiling. Circles and circles and spirals of shade and dimness danced about them giving Murphy a pounding angry head ache that made his black hair stand up. His eyes ached from staring at the brown and beige of a wooden checker board covered in second-hand chess pieces. Well, half covered now that Connor had stolen the majority of the black figures.

After the third time that Murphy tried to rub the fatigue out of his eyes, Connor stopped pretending not to notice. "Ya look a bit off there, dear," he said with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Murphy looked up and narrowed his eyes at dear, sweet twin brother. "I'm a wee bit tired, in case ya haven't been watchin' me fall off me chair."

"It's only the third game, Murph."

"Yeah, 'cause I don' like movin' 'cause ev'ry time I do yer fuckin' knight kills me."

"It was the bishop last time." That snide little grin grew like a sponge in a swimming pool. Connor reached across the table and stroked his twin's cheek gently. "Ya want ta know the truth? I've been cheatin' ever since ya knocked out my first pawn game one."

That crusty stuff that dried around Murphy's true blue eyes cracked slightly as his lids pulled farther apart. "I figured it out after the second check mate." He gripped Connor's hand tightly and tossed it down to the game board. One of the three candles blew out by itself, but neither one took notice.

"And yet ya still played?"

"Aye, I enjoy a challenge." The statement was half cut off by a yawn.

"That says otherwise, hon." The only thing that Murphy could think of to describe his brother as was swish with a hint of oh so damn beautiful. He stood and went around the table to Murphy's side and looked at the board from that perspective. "Here, look at this." He moved a knight. "There's your next move, here's mine." The queen slid to the side. "The you, then me…and then you, then check mate." He smiled widely and innocently.

With a sigh, Murphy looked at the board. Another loss that his pride had to suffer without repair. "Why d'ya do that ta me, huh? Damn, Conn, yer too smart fer yer own good."

"Yer whining, Murph. It en't becomin' at all. " The blond took both of his twin's arms and hauled him out of the chair into a tight embrace. "Ta be with ya then."

"But Ma, I wanna stay up like the big kids," Murphy taunted, his eyes already closed from how tired he was.

Another candle went out and the flat was suddenly almost pitch black. Connor could make his way just fine, even with Murphy's dead weight leaning against him. Three steps and Connor quickly tossed his brother face first into the mattress. With a loud oomph, Murphy snuggled into the blankets.



"Hey, scooch over, buster," Connor snapped playfully. He pushed Murphy slightly.

"Get yer own bed."

"This is my bed."

Murphy propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the pillow. Unfortunately, it was true. He whined quietly and rolled over on to his side. "But I'm tired..." he muttered.

"So, make me tired." Connor stripped of his shirt and jeans and then crawled onto the bed. "Ya aren't even dressed fer bed yet."

"Wanna help?"

"O' course." He grabbed Murphy by the belt and moved him so that he was lying on his back. Then the buckle was released and then the pants came off. Murphy barely helped, but Connor understood how tired the poor man was. He peeled his brother's shirt up and off. "There ya go, that's good."

Murphy groaned awkwardly at feeling Connor straddled him and then feeling Connor kiss him. A tongue in his mouth didn't even get him to open his eyes. "I'm too tired," he complained, pulling away.

"I know, that just makes ya easier."

Whose hand was it that slipped up his chest? Was it Connor's or his own? He couldn't see very well and he didn't really want to open his eyes anyway. A flush went over his flesh when he felt something grind against his hips. He heard Connor laugh when a moan shot up through his airway. "Oh fuck," he muttered quietly.

Connor pressed his lips against the other's and gripped a hand in Murphy's hair. His stomach fluctuated at feeling hips buck up into him. There was the reaction he was looking for. Even half-asleep, Murphy had the same basic pattern of arousal. "There you are, sweetheart."

"Less talkin', it's pissin' me off."

"I hear ya."

The last candle went out and the entire flat was cloaked in darkness. No more dance of shadows to accompany them and the absence of audience was all the more welcome to Murphy. He reached out blindly, not needing vision to know that his twin was there, and pulled Connor down to him by the back of his neck.