Fucking Murphy (1/1)
Title: Fucking Murphy
Author: somehowunbroken
Word Count: 439
Rating: R/language and slash
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I make no money. I mean no offense.
Summary: Everything in Connor's life has always been about fucking Murphy.
In Connor’s world, everything has always been about fucking Murphy. Ever since he’d been small, their mother was always telling him watch out for Murphy, take care of Murphy - and he would always mumble under his breath, yeah, okay, fucking Murphy.
Connor woke to the sound of sobs into a pillow from the bed next to his and automatically rose and climbed in next to his brother, arms wrapping around his small frame, not asking, just resigning himself to another sleepless night and hellish day because he had to care for fucking Murphy.
They got drunk on their sixteenth birthday. More specifically, Murphy got plastered, and Connor got one single lonely Guinness into his system before he had to haul his brother’s drunken arse home. Fucking Murphy, he swore. Just… fucking Murphy.
They fought as boys do, as brothers do, as twins do. Connor’s always been quicker but Murphy’s always been stronger, so Connor dodges but Murphy’s heavy fist swings towards his jaw anyway, and all he can think as he stumbles backwards is goddamn fucking Murphy.
Although she never really said it, Connor knew that Ma’s treatment of himself and his brother told them that he was truly the elder twin. Knew it in the way she cautioned Connor to look out for his brother, in the way that she paid slightly more attention to Murphy, in the way that Connor always seemed to be her first choice of a target, whether the crime in question was his own or not. In the way that Connor sometimes directed the attention towards himself when he knew the crime was Murphy’s. In the way that Ma looked at him that said but he did it and in the way that Connor looked straight back at her and said I know. Not that Murphy couldn’t handle their mother, but Connor was always looking out for fucking Murphy, and nothing would change that.
It was never resented. Fucking Murphy was a playful phrase, a load that he chose to bear and one that could never be wrested from Connor’s grasp. It was his choice, his willing sacrifice for his brother, his other half. Since it was a chosen task, however, Connor felt free to complain about fucking Murphy until he went blue in the face.
Everything, everything has always been about fucking Murphy, so when tongues slide against each other in a rough tango as hips grind and bodies mesh for the first time, Connor thinks I’m only fucking Murphy, it’s still fucking Murphy and that’s what everything else has always been -
- so why should this be any different?
Author: somehowunbroken
Word Count: 439
Rating: R/language and slash
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I make no money. I mean no offense.
Summary: Everything in Connor's life has always been about fucking Murphy.
In Connor’s world, everything has always been about fucking Murphy. Ever since he’d been small, their mother was always telling him watch out for Murphy, take care of Murphy - and he would always mumble under his breath, yeah, okay, fucking Murphy.
Connor woke to the sound of sobs into a pillow from the bed next to his and automatically rose and climbed in next to his brother, arms wrapping around his small frame, not asking, just resigning himself to another sleepless night and hellish day because he had to care for fucking Murphy.
They got drunk on their sixteenth birthday. More specifically, Murphy got plastered, and Connor got one single lonely Guinness into his system before he had to haul his brother’s drunken arse home. Fucking Murphy, he swore. Just… fucking Murphy.
They fought as boys do, as brothers do, as twins do. Connor’s always been quicker but Murphy’s always been stronger, so Connor dodges but Murphy’s heavy fist swings towards his jaw anyway, and all he can think as he stumbles backwards is goddamn fucking Murphy.
Although she never really said it, Connor knew that Ma’s treatment of himself and his brother told them that he was truly the elder twin. Knew it in the way she cautioned Connor to look out for his brother, in the way that she paid slightly more attention to Murphy, in the way that Connor always seemed to be her first choice of a target, whether the crime in question was his own or not. In the way that Connor sometimes directed the attention towards himself when he knew the crime was Murphy’s. In the way that Ma looked at him that said but he did it and in the way that Connor looked straight back at her and said I know. Not that Murphy couldn’t handle their mother, but Connor was always looking out for fucking Murphy, and nothing would change that.
It was never resented. Fucking Murphy was a playful phrase, a load that he chose to bear and one that could never be wrested from Connor’s grasp. It was his choice, his willing sacrifice for his brother, his other half. Since it was a chosen task, however, Connor felt free to complain about fucking Murphy until he went blue in the face.
Everything, everything has always been about fucking Murphy, so when tongues slide against each other in a rough tango as hips grind and bodies mesh for the first time, Connor thinks I’m only fucking Murphy, it’s still fucking Murphy and that’s what everything else has always been -
- so why should this be any different?