The three shall spread their blackened wings…
folder
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,795
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,795
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Boondock Saints, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Couldn't sleep again, Murph?
A/N: I don't own them (though I wish I did) they belong to Troy Duffy...Yadda yadda yadda...
Warnings: If you are on this site, you know what to expect but if you don't read and find out..hahaha!!!
Chapter POV: Murphy
Aon
. The night was as it would be, dark and mysterious yet it was always a comfort to him. The quiet soothed his mind and washed away the traces of blood that stained his soul. He brought the dying cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. The nicotine expanded his lungs, the smoke rolling down his throat, curling into each crevice of his insides and racing back out of them as he exhaled. The stars seemed brighter tonight, he thought startling himself. Now where the fuck did that notion come from, he wondered as he took another drag, If Conner had been in his head that very moment, he would have been laughing his ass off. The stars seem brighter tonight, hah! Real funny. He sounded like a horrible romance novel that Ma used to read, back when they all lived in Ireland. He smiled to himself a sto stood on the roof of the New York loft apartment that he and his brother shared, watching the night creep by. Tomorrow he and Conner would be the avenging angels as they were three years ago when they killed Papa Joe Yakavetta. They would be the Saints as their hands would yet again be bathed in the blood of the wicked. Pa would’ve been proud of them. He crossed himself as respect to his dead father as his family’s prayer rolled gently off his tongue. He took a final draw of his cigarette before smothering the glowing red embers under the toe of his boots. Eyes to the sky, he walked back to the stairwell doorway, inhaling his fill of the night sky before the dreams of what has past claimed him in sleep again.
. He tiptoed into the flat, pulled off his shoes and shirt before moving softly towards his bed. He took care not to squeak his bed too much, in hopes of not waking his sleeping brother.
. “Couldn’t sleep again, Murph?” Conner’s voice came clearly from under the covers of his own bed.
. Murphy sighed, “No, but I see you really couldn’t either.”
. “Never really could sleep without you nearby,” his voice had softened a bit before he corrected it, “Now get some rest. You and I both know what we have to do tomorrow.”
. “Aye”
. He heard Conner shift in his bed as Murphy continued to stare up at the ceiling. Conner had changed a little since the night that their father had been killed, but he had changed a lot more when she died. He was harder and more focused, detached from the world in a way, even towards Murphy. And that is what hurt the most, but Murphy dealt with it in silence. Just being there for Connor was what mattered and there he would always be. To lend his strength and to shield Conner with his blackened wings from the pain that the world dealt out. It was as it should be. Bonded eternally in love as Brothers, in blood as Killers and in conviction as Saints. One soul residing in two bodies.
. Mu loo looked over as he heard Conner’s breathing slow to a rhythmic beat. In. Out. In. Out. Murphy felt his body reacting to his wayward thoughts, as it got suddenly warmer beneath his sheets and his pants became a little too tight for his liking. He sighed softly and thought, I really fucking need to get laid. Murphy looked over at the Conner shaped lump sleeping soundly on the other bed. Cr war was definitely asleep and he thought, I would finally get some fucking sleep if I could just get rid of this. His hand slid lower from its resting place on his stomach to the bulge at the front of his pants. Murphy’s fingers deftly undid the button and lowered the zipper.
. He thought of how they used to be. When they were children living in Ireland with Ma, Conner would crawl into his bed and hold him when there was a storm outside because he had heard Murphy’s soft sobs in the dark. How they used to compare themselves to each other while taking a bath, always saying that each of theirs was the bigger of the two. How they used to go after the same girl; who mostly seemed to choose Conner because he was the fairer of the two and when Conner left her, would always try to go after Murphy. Or on the seldom occasion vice versa. Their adventures and experiencee foe forever intertwined; as were their souls the first time that they showed each other the true extent of love that they shared. Conner had been gentle with Murphy as they moved in unison, cleaving in time with the beating of his heart and the rhythm of his breath, just as it was now. Murphy’s breath quickened as did Conner’s movements. Faster and faster till there was nothing left to do but jump off the edge and into the void. Time froze, drawing out the pleasure to what seemed like forever. Wave after wave, throwing them into an alternate dimension only to pull them back to reality hard enough to knock them both out for hours in blissful sleep.
. Murphy looked down at his hand and grimaced. He had made a mess. As quietly as he could, he got up and made his way behind the shower curtain on the far side of the loft. He washed his hand off, removed his pants and cleaned the traces of his actions from the rest of his body. Dried off, Murphy put his pants back on and moved to lie back down in his bed. He settled himself in and fell into sleep filled with blood, prayers and angels.
Warnings: If you are on this site, you know what to expect but if you don't read and find out..hahaha!!!
Chapter POV: Murphy
. The night was as it would be, dark and mysterious yet it was always a comfort to him. The quiet soothed his mind and washed away the traces of blood that stained his soul. He brought the dying cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. The nicotine expanded his lungs, the smoke rolling down his throat, curling into each crevice of his insides and racing back out of them as he exhaled. The stars seemed brighter tonight, he thought startling himself. Now where the fuck did that notion come from, he wondered as he took another drag, If Conner had been in his head that very moment, he would have been laughing his ass off. The stars seem brighter tonight, hah! Real funny. He sounded like a horrible romance novel that Ma used to read, back when they all lived in Ireland. He smiled to himself a sto stood on the roof of the New York loft apartment that he and his brother shared, watching the night creep by. Tomorrow he and Conner would be the avenging angels as they were three years ago when they killed Papa Joe Yakavetta. They would be the Saints as their hands would yet again be bathed in the blood of the wicked. Pa would’ve been proud of them. He crossed himself as respect to his dead father as his family’s prayer rolled gently off his tongue. He took a final draw of his cigarette before smothering the glowing red embers under the toe of his boots. Eyes to the sky, he walked back to the stairwell doorway, inhaling his fill of the night sky before the dreams of what has past claimed him in sleep again.
. He tiptoed into the flat, pulled off his shoes and shirt before moving softly towards his bed. He took care not to squeak his bed too much, in hopes of not waking his sleeping brother.
. “Couldn’t sleep again, Murph?” Conner’s voice came clearly from under the covers of his own bed.
. Murphy sighed, “No, but I see you really couldn’t either.”
. “Never really could sleep without you nearby,” his voice had softened a bit before he corrected it, “Now get some rest. You and I both know what we have to do tomorrow.”
. “Aye”
. He heard Conner shift in his bed as Murphy continued to stare up at the ceiling. Conner had changed a little since the night that their father had been killed, but he had changed a lot more when she died. He was harder and more focused, detached from the world in a way, even towards Murphy. And that is what hurt the most, but Murphy dealt with it in silence. Just being there for Connor was what mattered and there he would always be. To lend his strength and to shield Conner with his blackened wings from the pain that the world dealt out. It was as it should be. Bonded eternally in love as Brothers, in blood as Killers and in conviction as Saints. One soul residing in two bodies.
. Mu loo looked over as he heard Conner’s breathing slow to a rhythmic beat. In. Out. In. Out. Murphy felt his body reacting to his wayward thoughts, as it got suddenly warmer beneath his sheets and his pants became a little too tight for his liking. He sighed softly and thought, I really fucking need to get laid. Murphy looked over at the Conner shaped lump sleeping soundly on the other bed. Cr war was definitely asleep and he thought, I would finally get some fucking sleep if I could just get rid of this. His hand slid lower from its resting place on his stomach to the bulge at the front of his pants. Murphy’s fingers deftly undid the button and lowered the zipper.
. He thought of how they used to be. When they were children living in Ireland with Ma, Conner would crawl into his bed and hold him when there was a storm outside because he had heard Murphy’s soft sobs in the dark. How they used to compare themselves to each other while taking a bath, always saying that each of theirs was the bigger of the two. How they used to go after the same girl; who mostly seemed to choose Conner because he was the fairer of the two and when Conner left her, would always try to go after Murphy. Or on the seldom occasion vice versa. Their adventures and experiencee foe forever intertwined; as were their souls the first time that they showed each other the true extent of love that they shared. Conner had been gentle with Murphy as they moved in unison, cleaving in time with the beating of his heart and the rhythm of his breath, just as it was now. Murphy’s breath quickened as did Conner’s movements. Faster and faster till there was nothing left to do but jump off the edge and into the void. Time froze, drawing out the pleasure to what seemed like forever. Wave after wave, throwing them into an alternate dimension only to pull them back to reality hard enough to knock them both out for hours in blissful sleep.
. Murphy looked down at his hand and grimaced. He had made a mess. As quietly as he could, he got up and made his way behind the shower curtain on the far side of the loft. He washed his hand off, removed his pants and cleaned the traces of his actions from the rest of his body. Dried off, Murphy put his pants back on and moved to lie back down in his bed. He settled himself in and fell into sleep filled with blood, prayers and angels.