(no subject)
Fandom: Boondock Saints
Warnings: Twincest, mentions of masturbation.
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor anything else to do with the movie.
Pride.
Gluttony.
Sloth.
Envy.
Avarice.
Lust.
Wrath is really the only sin they ever commit on anything like a regular basis. They try not to let the fury control them. They are good boys, they are. Devout Catholics to the bone. There is never any doubt in their minds about that.
Murphy likes to press his lips to Connor's forehead, Connor to Murphy's cheek. Chaste, always. They kiss each other's palms, or each other's wrists. An odd thrill comes from finding loopholes, and they feel this low in their twin guts whenever one presses his mouth to his hand to his brother's mouth. They do it like this: they are never mouth to mouth. There is always something between them when they kiss. It is Catholic courtesy; neither will damn the other.
They kissed, once, with Jesus between them, twin lips pressed together with only two feet of carved wood to separate them.
It isn't a sin, what they are doing. The Pope had handed down the Word: it is not a sin, a man loving a man, as long as he does not act upon those instincts. It isn't a sin, what they do with each other. Masturbation is strictly prohibited, though allowances are made--no one but God can control dreams, and so spilling across Connor's sheets as they are both half asleep does not make Murphy feel guilty in the least. It isn't a sin.
They're good Catholic boys, they are. Regular confession and eyes clamped shut in prayer whenever a familiar hand incurs temptation.
Warnings: Twincest, mentions of masturbation.
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor anything else to do with the movie.
Pride.
Gluttony.
Sloth.
Envy.
Avarice.
Lust.
Wrath is really the only sin they ever commit on anything like a regular basis. They try not to let the fury control them. They are good boys, they are. Devout Catholics to the bone. There is never any doubt in their minds about that.
Murphy likes to press his lips to Connor's forehead, Connor to Murphy's cheek. Chaste, always. They kiss each other's palms, or each other's wrists. An odd thrill comes from finding loopholes, and they feel this low in their twin guts whenever one presses his mouth to his hand to his brother's mouth. They do it like this: they are never mouth to mouth. There is always something between them when they kiss. It is Catholic courtesy; neither will damn the other.
They kissed, once, with Jesus between them, twin lips pressed together with only two feet of carved wood to separate them.
It isn't a sin, what they are doing. The Pope had handed down the Word: it is not a sin, a man loving a man, as long as he does not act upon those instincts. It isn't a sin, what they do with each other. Masturbation is strictly prohibited, though allowances are made--no one but God can control dreams, and so spilling across Connor's sheets as they are both half asleep does not make Murphy feel guilty in the least. It isn't a sin.
They're good Catholic boys, they are. Regular confession and eyes clamped shut in prayer whenever a familiar hand incurs temptation.