Some BDS, some Flandus

Its strange that something so simple as Murphy touching him a hint too long can set something so complicated in motion.

They still share a bed, they're ma says they're too old, but Murphy thinks they will always be young enough to sleep curled around each other.

Connor's skin is always cool to the touch, Murphy's always burns like there's a furnace deep inside and Connor wraps himself around his brother, presses his cold hands onto Murphy's skin.

Connor can still remember the last time he fought against Murphy's hands on him, can remember the half hearted fight and the way Murphy seemed to melt into him when Connor gave in.

There was no point in voicing that this was wrong, they both knew it, but they also both knew that they could never go back to being just brothers now.

Connor is gentle with Murphy in a way that he's gentle with nothing else, hands running down skin, whispered words soft in Murphy's ear.

There is only one thing that Murphy loves more than Connor, and that's Connor naked.

When Connor got to a thousand he gave up counting all the secret places on Murphy's body that Connor knew like the back of his hand.

"One day Conn," Murphy says, wax crayon clenched in his small hand, "I'll be King, then you can be my Queen," Connor throws his own crayon at Murphy, ducking his head to hide his smile.

"I don't ever want to learn how to live without you." Murphy says one day, whispers into Connor's neck, Connor just pulls him close, tells him with touches and kisses that he will never have to.

The first time Murphy kisses him, the edges of Connor's vision blur, but Murphy's worried face is so perfectly clear that it takes Connor's breath away.

Connor can't shake the feeling that when he finally kisses Murphy back, that Murphy has been waiting for Connor to catch on for years.

Everything changes the day that Murphy sinks to his knees and wraps his mouth around Connor's cock, Connor winds his hands into Murphy's hair and lets it change.

"Kiss me." Its not a command but Murphy's eyes go dark the way they do whenever Connor tells him to do something and Connor can't help the spike of lust is sends skitting up his spine when Murphy does exactly what he says.

His hold on the sheet is so hard he knows his knuckles must be white as Murphy's mouth makes its wicked way down Connor's stomach and licks the inside of his thigh.

Its a constant ache, a bone deep need to always have Murphy by his side, one that lessen slightly when Murphy shifts closer in his sleep, wraps his arms tighter around Connor and presses a sleepy kiss between Connor's shoulder blades.

Murphy is a vision like this, skin stark dark blankets, sweat glistening on his forehead as Connor kisses his brother and pushes deep inside, swallowing the gasp and moan that escape Murphy's throat.

Finally, Murphy thought, all it took was a shoe to the head, and wrapping his own fingers around his cock, watching as Connor's eye went wide and he licked lips, "got your attention brother?"

Connor knows he sounds like a girl, but he can't help think that Murphy has reached in and branded himself on Connor's soul, and that there is no way Connor will ever get the mark out.

Sean is a kinky bastard, Norman becomes well aware of this when his phone bleeps and a picture of Sean with his cock in his hand fills the screen.

There is something about Norman that makes Sean act like a fool, like he's a girl trying to get the cool boys attention all the time.

"Are you fucking mad Con, there is no way in hell I am wearing that thong to work."

Norman is a huge child sometimes, it makes Sean smile, and it makes him fall even more in love with him when he sees him doing to "Decontamination Dance" with Chandler.

Its been a while since they've been alone and Connor takes no time in stripping Murphy bare, kissing him hard, growling "bedroom, now" into his willing mouth.

Sometimes Noah looks at Murphy and its almost like he can see a shadow following him, he thinks its something to do with the way that Connor doesn't touch him anymore.

Saying goodbye to Sean is always hard, but its harder when Sean is looking at him like that and enticing him with a bottle of Jaegermeister saying "get a later flight, Norm."

Murphy likes to lock the doors and hide from the world, run his fingers over Connor's skin without holding back, and kiss Connor whenever he wants.

Even the biggest fortune in the world wouldn't make him give up the way Murphy looks at him like he's the Second Coming.

Murphy's always felt safe in church, something that was instilled in them since before they could talk, but with Connor by his side, he gets that feeling no matter where he is.

Norman's fingers ghost over his stomach, his breath tickles the back of his neck, the heat from Norman's body is almost unbearable, but Sean just closes his eyes and bites back a moan when Norman's fingers close around his cock.

Norman's eyes are closed when Sean makes it back into his room, Norman's feet crossed at his ankles, a book open on his chest, and a soft snore escapes his throat, Sean presses his fingers into the bridge of his nose and tried to swallow down the urge to fuck Norman awake.

Connor can't help thinking they're in the eye of the storm, the dangers of America behind them, Murphy's legs wrapped around his waist as he sinks deep into his brother with soft Irish rain falling on his back, he can feel the storm brewing on the horizon.

Murphy's body clenches around him and his fingers dig into Connor's shoulders, and Connor knows that he will never feel as alive as he does right now.

Sean sings when he cooks, dances round the kitchen with utensils and ingredients and Norman can't help but laugh and sink to his knees in front of him, just to hear Sean's voice falter when Norman hums around him.

There is nothing sudden in the way Norman kisses him, its like completion and Sean knows that this is what has been missing from his life.

There are press conferences, and photo ops, cameras and reporters and Sean relishing in it all, Norman just wants it all to stop, wants to lock his hotel room door and bring Sean to his knees, wants to see the way Sean's eyes flutter closed when he comes, Norman's name on his lips.

Connor always feels there is never enough time when da goes out, never enough time to do exactly what he wants to with Murphy, to reduce Murphy to a gibbering wreck with words and soft touches and whispered commands.

No matter how many times he washes, he can still feel Norman's lips on his skin, the way Norman's hands felt around his arms, how his fingers pressed into his skin.

He knows he should be torn, there is a beautiful girl in the bar waiting for him, or his best friend in a hotel room three doors down the hall, in the end he knows its the best decision he's ever made when Norman opens the door with a grin and a bottle of beer is pushed into his hands.

Connor life is so wrapped up in Murphy, everything about his childhood involves Murphy, and the memories from his adult life that don't have Murphy in them are like the stages in History books that people gloss over.

Connor may be giving the command but Murphy has the power, Connor knows that when Murphy begs him and Connor can't do anything but give him exactly what he wants.

Murphy is gone, his brother's life seeped out over Connor's hands, and before he could put a gun to his own head, he was being hauled away, hands cuffed behind his back and Connor can't find it in him to even bother about the blood running down his wrists again as he struggled, screamed and watched the black bag being zipped up over his brother face.

In the dark of the night, when shame creeps over his skin like bugs, and Murphy's hold on him lessens, Connor prays to God, asks him for forgiveness, even though he knows God stopped listening to them a lnog time ago.

The wall is hard against his back when Sean slams him against it, worms his hand into Norman's pants and whispers out a hard "missed you" before kissing him like there would be no tomorrow.

The way Murphy looks at him sometimes makes him feel completely vulnerable and naked, stripped bare, Murphy's eyes raking over his skin in a way that he can almost feel.

There are times when Norman wishes he could just jump in a car and drive, feel the wind in his hair, listen to Sean singing off key in the seat next to him.

When Norman calls him, voice harsh down the phone as his gasps, the hitches in his breath, reach Sean's ear, its does more harm to his blood pressure than good, especially when he hears Norman come with Sean's name wrapped around a moan.

There are times when da is out and Connor takes his time, and then there are times when da is just down the hall and Connor relishes in small touches, fingers dragging across skin, precious moments when da isn't looking and he can feel his brother under his hands, even for a second.

There is always an underlying ache when Norman isn't next to him, a ache in his belly like hunger, that only lessons when Norman's skin is slick against his and Norman's cock is buried deep inside.

Its hard to believe that it took them this long to figure out how much better they were together, how they worked in a way that no girlfriend ever had, how even though the taboo of incest hung over their heads, it meant nothing to them, because it was better this way.