"Connor?! Ya alright?"
Murphy flew down the hill toward his brother, who looked like a heap of rags in the snow. The heap started to struggle to its feet.
"Aye, I would be then, wouldn't I, if ye hadn't shoved me so hard, ya twat."
They were fifteen this year, and the first snow had come later than usual. Murphy had a struggle of it but finally managed to drag his brother to their favorite spot. He heard Connor grumble something to the effect of "little kid shite", but he could see his brother smiling as he laced his boots.
"Ah now, ya said ya wanted to fly down tha hill, it's not my fault yer dumbass can't steer for shite."
He helped Connor to his feet, taking in good humor his punches and cursing.
"C'mon Connor, buck up there. Ya look right cold, no sense in wastin' tha energy tryin' ta fight. Ya might freeze your nuts off!"
Connor favored his brother's ribbing with the better part of a snowball to the face, followed by a swift tackle to the snow. They rolled around like puppies, making nearly as much of a ruckus.
"Oy, you're no lightweight, get tha fuck offa me!"
Connor grinned like a madman and shoved snow violently into Murphy's face. Murphy rolled over laughing, grabbing both his and Connor's tube and made his way up the hill.
"Murph, let's go back now, eh? It's fucken freezing out."
Connor grimaced, brushing snow out from underneath his scarf. Murphy grinned back at him from further up the hill.
"First one home gets all the hot water!"
He tore off like a shot, tubes and all.
"Ya fucken CHEATER!"
xXxXxXx
They raced up the steps, vying for first entry into the warm house and slipped dangerously on the stoop. Murphy squeaked in first, giving a triumphant crow as he bounded up the stairs to the bathroom.
"Your dirty ass ha'better save me some fucken hot water!!"
Connor grumbled to himself and stripped his wet overclothes off, wandering around the kitchen in search of food. He found a note instead, in Ma's scrawly handwriting:
You boys can heat up the soup in the icebox for dinner, there's a loaf of bread over the stove. I'll be at Aunt Mary's tonight…KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE. –Ma
Connor grinned. He and Murph had the house to themselves. He went to the fridge and brought out the soup and proceeded to do as his mother bid. Murphy came down minutes later in his pajamas, hair still dripping. Connor looked at him agape.
"Christ Murph, that was fast. Here, you finish dinner, I'm goin' up to thaw out."
Murphy grinned and stirred the soup. Connor clapped his brother on the back and with a flourish handed Murphy Ma's note. While he read, something akin to wicked glee began to show in his eyes and he grinned at his brother. They had the house to themselves.
Connor came down a little later in sweats and drippy hair to find a table laid out with food. Murphy was slurping his soup.
"Well, c'mon, I slaved all night over tha hot stove, and ya just stand there?"
Connor smacked his brother playfully upside the head, causing him to choke slightly on his soup.
"Couldn't ya wait fer me then? Greedy bastard…"
He gave a moan of appreciation for the hot hearty liquid warming his insides. "This is perfect."
Murphy was giving Connor a sly sidelong glance, and patiently waited for him to register the fact. When finally Connor looked up, he smirked at his brother.
"What didja do, Murph?"
Murphy grinned crazily.
"I spiked the tea."
Connor gasped.
"No fucken way."
Murphy just smirked wisely.
"Take a sip then."
Connor, never one to back down on a dare, took a quick swig of the tea and promptly sputtered and choked down the burning liquid. Eyes watery, he looked at Murph, who was laughing at him.
"Christ Murph, how much didja pour in there?"
"Three shots. I figured it should get us good and drunk. After all, no Ma." He leaned forward and clanked his mug to his brothers, smiling.
"Bottoms up!"
xXxXxXx
Their drunkenness was easily measured by the clumsy construction of their age-old fort. Inside they lounged, read comics, ate bread with butter and drank more tea. They giggled like idiots, rolling sloppily around on the bed and nudging each other haphazardly.
"Connor, d'ya think the Incredible Hulk's Irish?"
"What'r ya on about, ya daft monkey?"
Murph looked at his brother with a false pout.
"Well, he turns green, right?"
Connor snorted.
"Yeah, 'cause o'tha radioactivity, ya idjit."
"Alright then, no need ta get high'n mighty."
Murph closed his eyes in contentment as he bit into a buttered piece of bread, loving it like it was chocolate cake.
Connor blinked stupidly at him a moment before reacting.
"Hey! Tha's the last piece!"
Murph raised an eyebrow and spoke with a mouthful of crumbs.
"Yeah so?"
Connor frowned.
"Tha was my piece, ya greedy bastard!"
Murphy smiled cheekily.
"Well, you're too slow, aintcha?"
Murphy didn't have the chance to take another bite before Connor was on him, tearing the buttery bread out of his brother's hand.
"Ah, yer ruinin' it!" Murphy wailed, and elbowed Connor in the ribs, shoving.
"OW! Fucker!"
They were a flurry of elbows and knees, heat and cursing. A punch here, a jab there and all the time the heat became more unbearable. Finally Connor managed to straddle his struggling brother, pinning his arms over his head.
He smirked and was about to say something snarky until Murphy, in a desperate attempt to free himself, bucked his hips up.
A searing jolt of heat spiked in Murphy's lower belly, and a moan escaped his lips. He looked up in terrified wonder at his twin, whose eyes were like shining dark pools, whose mouth was open and panting hard. Connor lowered his face closer to his brothers and Murphy thought he was drowning in those shining dark pools.
"Do that again."
Murphy's breath hitched and he begged in warning.
"Connor…"
But Connor heard him. I'm scared. Don't tease.
He ground his hips down hard. They moaned into each other's mouths, eyes going wide in shock and awe. Murphy reached up and roughly devoured his brother's mouth, hands tangling in his soft hair, tongues sneaking past lips for a mingled taste of slick warmth and spirits.
They pressed flush against one another, the heat between them spiking and melding them together. Connor's hands were everywhere, under his shirt and searing his already feverish skin. Fingers grazed his chest, his nipples and he nearly tossed Connor off the bed for the shuddering pleasure that rocked him. They broke only to breathe.
Connor tugged hard at Murphy's shirt, ripping it unmercifully.
"Off," he panted. "Skin, please need ta feel ya…"
Murphy could only comply and beg that Connor do the same.
Murphy thought he was going insane. Connor's skin burned him, but he clung tighter. Their pants were off in a blur of heat and need. They rubbed frantically, hands roving over sweat-slicked skin as they ground against each other desperately. Connor moaned into Murphy's mouth, drinking deep of him, not getting enough. Their motion reached a fever-pitch, and Murphy tore his mouth from Connor's, struggling for air.
"Oh God…Con…"
Connor bit down on his brother's neck, whimpering.
There was a white hot pinpoint of clarity centered in their slick hard cocks both of which Murphy was sure were melting together and it was Connor's whimpering that sent him flying right over in the edge into oblivion. He felt Connor shudder and follow him, spurting hot fluid between them.
They fell in a panting sweaty heap, completely spent, alcohol nudging them into a dreamy state. They rolled clumsily onto their sides and sleep claimed their shaken, heated bodies. They lay that way all night, sated and glued together.