Fallen
folder
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,252
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,252
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Fallen
Fallen
Rating: R
Warning: incest, rape. Not recommended for small children. Or your parents.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. (Otherwise there would have been a helluva lot more cross dressing and making out)
Summary: The one thing Connor wants, he can't have.
Feedback: Yes, please!
A/N: And a huge thank you goes to Yakkorat for helping me with my grammatical errors. She's the best.
=-=-=-=-=-=
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It's been seven days since my last confession.”
“What sin have you committed, my son?”
“Lust.”
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's 2:13 and Connor can't sleep.
He's lying on his side, watching the steady rise and fall of Murphy's chest. And he's trying not to focus too hard on the dips and curves of Murphy's skin, though he knows them all by heart.
He's trying to forget what Murphy looks like when he just gets out of the shower. How the drops of water run seamlessly down his skin. And how he wanders around the apartment looking for a semi-clean towel.
He tries to forget how it tickles when Murphy whispers in his ear. Or that feeling he gets in his stomach whenever Murph slings an arm around him.
It's 2:14 and Connor is praying for forgiveness.
He whispers the words and tries so hard not to think about how fucking pretty his brother looks when he sleeps.
By 2:15 he's finished praying and he slips one hand down into his boxers.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's two days later and Connor's waiting. He's waiting for the catalyst that will set him in motion. He's waiting for the perfect time to reveal to Murphy that he could be more than a brother to him. He's waiting for Murphy to give a hint he might feel the same way.
Connor's tired of waiting, but he's even more scared. Scared, that there will never be that perfect time.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's 9:07 and Murphy's late.
He went out for a pack of smokes, which is usually a fifteen minute trip. It's been half an hour and Connor can feel every minute Murph isn't there.
=-=-=-=-=-=
Murphy isn't at the store. Connor asked the cashier if he'd seen him and he said that Murphy had left with a couple guys.
It doesn't feel right to Connor, and he isn't sure why. Murphy was probably showing them directions or something. He shouldn't be worried just because Murphy isn't on any of the main streets. But he is. Something in him has to find Murphy.
Connor starts running down every alleyway and back road on the way to their apartment. He's only three blocks from the store when he finds Murphy.
=-=-=-=-=-=
As he rounded the corner, he sees Murphy face down on the cement. One guy is kicking him and another has finished tying his hands behind his back. Connor doesn't think, he just reacts; launching himself at the guy who kicking Murphy. He barely waits for the dark-haired man to hit the ground before he turns to the next guy.
He pulls back his fist and rams it straight into the skinny man's nose. He hears a crunch; it makes him smile. Connor grabs the man's shirt and brought his fist back again, intent on knocking out a few teeth, when he feels a gun barrel press into his back.
Connor releases the thin man's shirt. He can see Murphy lying a just a few feet away. He is so close. Murphy is struggling to get up, his face bloody and bruised. Connor can't fuck this up. He'll have to wait until they made a mistake.
“Motherfucker.” The dark-haired man wipes the blood away on his sleeve and hits Connor in the back of the head with his gun. He lets him fall before grabbing his shirt and punching him. He doesn't stop until he's satisfied with the amount of blood on the Irishman's face. All the while, Murphy is yelling and cursing. The thinner man turns to Murphy and hits him back down.
“Fuckin' shut it, or I swear I'll blow his fucking brains out.” The dark-haired man cocks his gun and plants his heel firmly in Connor's back; Murphy is silent.
The thinner man smiles, it makes Connor's stomach turn, “It seems you got here just in time for the show. We were just about to give him a good time, when you showed up.”
It takes Connor's brain a few seconds to process what he said. But as he starts to undo his belt, all of Connor's logical thinking goes out the window. He raises up and starts swinging when a bullet slams through his shoulder.
He can hear Murphy screaming, but it sounds stilted and far away. Hot blood flows against his neck as he lays on the pavement. He wants to tell Murphy he's okay, he's not dead, but Connor can't find his voice.
“We'll do a lot worse if you don't behave.” The dark-haired man stomps on his shoulder, grinning at the sound he makes.
Connor can't move, he can't do anything but watch the train wreck happening right in front of him. The thin man pulls down Murph's pants; his hands trailing down the smooth flesh. Murphy bucks away from his touch yells for him to stop.
“I'm getting fucking tired of this. If you don't shut up, Mike'll put another bullet in him.” He points to Connor and Mike steps on his wound again.
Murphy doesn't move, he doesn't resist. He doesn't look at Connor either, he stares straight at something his brother can't see. And he wants to scream and tell Murphy not for him. Never for him. But Mike rips a piece of Connor's shirt off and is busy making a gag to keep him quiet. The thin man kneels and Murphy bites his lip.
This is Connor's sin, it's out before his eyes. What he wanted, this man was taking. Murphy's screwed his eyes shut as he roughly enters him. But Murphy doesn't make a sound, because he doesn't want Connor to be hurt. And Connor's crying because Murphy has no fucking idea about the sinner he's trying to save.
The man finishes and pulls out. He runs a hand through Murphy's hair. “Fuck, that was good. Bet you liked it too.”
“All right, Tim, you've had your fun. Now it's my turn.” Mike's eyes flicker over to Murphy.
“Fuck off, I ain't finished yet.” He moves in front of Murphy and grabs a fistful of his hair.
“Open.” It's a command, and he obeys. Tim positions his cock below Murphy's open mouth.
“Do it.”
And Murphy swallows him. Tim hisses and pushes him down lower. Murphy complies until he's downed as much as he can. But instead of Tim smiling, his face is contorting in pain. He lets out a twisted scream and punches Murphy.
Murphy takes the hit and rolls to the side. Blood's dribbling down his chin and he spits out a chunk of flesh. Tim screams and grabs his crotch as blood gushes out. Mike shifts his weight off Connor just for a second, while he aims at Murphy. But that second's all he needs.
Connor leaps up, ignoring the burning in his shoulder, and tackles the man. He's scratching and slamming his fists into the man's face until he can get the gun from him. And once he's got it, he puts the barrel right between the man's eyes and blows a hole through his head.
Connor stands and walks over to the other man. He's crying and begging for his life. But all the noise doesn't make it to Connor's ears. All Connor can hear is the shallow breathing of Murphy lying a few feet away.
He shoots the man in the kneecap first. One and then the other. He stomps on them until he hears them crack. Then he shoots him in the gut, because it's supposed to be pretty painful. He grabs his wrists and pulls back each finger until they break. He shoots a few fingers off each hand. Connor sits back and admires his work. The writhing, bloody mess before him barely looks human. He puts the gun to the bastard's chest, right over his heart, and pulls the trigger.
Connor helps Murphy straighten up as much as he can in the alley and walks him back to the apartment.
=-=-=-=-=-=
He runs a shower and puts him under the warmth. Murphy flinches at every touch. After his skin's clean, Connor hands him some fresh clothes. While Murphy changes, Connor washes the blood off of himself. His shoulder's throbbing, but the wound doesn't appear too serious.
Later, Murphy helps him cauterize his shoulder, but neither of them speak. Murphy has a blank look in his eyes that he's never seen. And Connor's scared, because he can't reach him.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's three days later when they make contact. Murphy's lying in bed shivering in his sleep. Connor leaves his bed and places a hand on Murphy's arm, shaking it gently to wake him. His twin's eyes snap open and there's fear in them.
He clutches Connor's hand and pulls him closer. Connor sits next to Murphy on the bed and holds his hand until the trembling stops.
Connor was never good with words. He can't always say everything that's in his head, it comes out jumbled. And he can't find the words to tell Murphy how sorry he is. And he really doesn't know what to say because for the last three days, Murphy has been an empty shell.
So, Connor decided not to use words at all.
He leans forward and sees panic flash through Murphy's eyes as he kisses him.
Rating: R
Warning: incest, rape. Not recommended for small children. Or your parents.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. (Otherwise there would have been a helluva lot more cross dressing and making out)
Summary: The one thing Connor wants, he can't have.
Feedback: Yes, please!
A/N: And a huge thank you goes to Yakkorat for helping me with my grammatical errors. She's the best.
=-=-=-=-=-=
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It's been seven days since my last confession.”
“What sin have you committed, my son?”
“Lust.”
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's 2:13 and Connor can't sleep.
He's lying on his side, watching the steady rise and fall of Murphy's chest. And he's trying not to focus too hard on the dips and curves of Murphy's skin, though he knows them all by heart.
He's trying to forget what Murphy looks like when he just gets out of the shower. How the drops of water run seamlessly down his skin. And how he wanders around the apartment looking for a semi-clean towel.
He tries to forget how it tickles when Murphy whispers in his ear. Or that feeling he gets in his stomach whenever Murph slings an arm around him.
It's 2:14 and Connor is praying for forgiveness.
He whispers the words and tries so hard not to think about how fucking pretty his brother looks when he sleeps.
By 2:15 he's finished praying and he slips one hand down into his boxers.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's two days later and Connor's waiting. He's waiting for the catalyst that will set him in motion. He's waiting for the perfect time to reveal to Murphy that he could be more than a brother to him. He's waiting for Murphy to give a hint he might feel the same way.
Connor's tired of waiting, but he's even more scared. Scared, that there will never be that perfect time.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's 9:07 and Murphy's late.
He went out for a pack of smokes, which is usually a fifteen minute trip. It's been half an hour and Connor can feel every minute Murph isn't there.
=-=-=-=-=-=
Murphy isn't at the store. Connor asked the cashier if he'd seen him and he said that Murphy had left with a couple guys.
It doesn't feel right to Connor, and he isn't sure why. Murphy was probably showing them directions or something. He shouldn't be worried just because Murphy isn't on any of the main streets. But he is. Something in him has to find Murphy.
Connor starts running down every alleyway and back road on the way to their apartment. He's only three blocks from the store when he finds Murphy.
=-=-=-=-=-=
As he rounded the corner, he sees Murphy face down on the cement. One guy is kicking him and another has finished tying his hands behind his back. Connor doesn't think, he just reacts; launching himself at the guy who kicking Murphy. He barely waits for the dark-haired man to hit the ground before he turns to the next guy.
He pulls back his fist and rams it straight into the skinny man's nose. He hears a crunch; it makes him smile. Connor grabs the man's shirt and brought his fist back again, intent on knocking out a few teeth, when he feels a gun barrel press into his back.
Connor releases the thin man's shirt. He can see Murphy lying a just a few feet away. He is so close. Murphy is struggling to get up, his face bloody and bruised. Connor can't fuck this up. He'll have to wait until they made a mistake.
“Motherfucker.” The dark-haired man wipes the blood away on his sleeve and hits Connor in the back of the head with his gun. He lets him fall before grabbing his shirt and punching him. He doesn't stop until he's satisfied with the amount of blood on the Irishman's face. All the while, Murphy is yelling and cursing. The thinner man turns to Murphy and hits him back down.
“Fuckin' shut it, or I swear I'll blow his fucking brains out.” The dark-haired man cocks his gun and plants his heel firmly in Connor's back; Murphy is silent.
The thinner man smiles, it makes Connor's stomach turn, “It seems you got here just in time for the show. We were just about to give him a good time, when you showed up.”
It takes Connor's brain a few seconds to process what he said. But as he starts to undo his belt, all of Connor's logical thinking goes out the window. He raises up and starts swinging when a bullet slams through his shoulder.
He can hear Murphy screaming, but it sounds stilted and far away. Hot blood flows against his neck as he lays on the pavement. He wants to tell Murphy he's okay, he's not dead, but Connor can't find his voice.
“We'll do a lot worse if you don't behave.” The dark-haired man stomps on his shoulder, grinning at the sound he makes.
Connor can't move, he can't do anything but watch the train wreck happening right in front of him. The thin man pulls down Murph's pants; his hands trailing down the smooth flesh. Murphy bucks away from his touch yells for him to stop.
“I'm getting fucking tired of this. If you don't shut up, Mike'll put another bullet in him.” He points to Connor and Mike steps on his wound again.
Murphy doesn't move, he doesn't resist. He doesn't look at Connor either, he stares straight at something his brother can't see. And he wants to scream and tell Murphy not for him. Never for him. But Mike rips a piece of Connor's shirt off and is busy making a gag to keep him quiet. The thin man kneels and Murphy bites his lip.
This is Connor's sin, it's out before his eyes. What he wanted, this man was taking. Murphy's screwed his eyes shut as he roughly enters him. But Murphy doesn't make a sound, because he doesn't want Connor to be hurt. And Connor's crying because Murphy has no fucking idea about the sinner he's trying to save.
The man finishes and pulls out. He runs a hand through Murphy's hair. “Fuck, that was good. Bet you liked it too.”
“All right, Tim, you've had your fun. Now it's my turn.” Mike's eyes flicker over to Murphy.
“Fuck off, I ain't finished yet.” He moves in front of Murphy and grabs a fistful of his hair.
“Open.” It's a command, and he obeys. Tim positions his cock below Murphy's open mouth.
“Do it.”
And Murphy swallows him. Tim hisses and pushes him down lower. Murphy complies until he's downed as much as he can. But instead of Tim smiling, his face is contorting in pain. He lets out a twisted scream and punches Murphy.
Murphy takes the hit and rolls to the side. Blood's dribbling down his chin and he spits out a chunk of flesh. Tim screams and grabs his crotch as blood gushes out. Mike shifts his weight off Connor just for a second, while he aims at Murphy. But that second's all he needs.
Connor leaps up, ignoring the burning in his shoulder, and tackles the man. He's scratching and slamming his fists into the man's face until he can get the gun from him. And once he's got it, he puts the barrel right between the man's eyes and blows a hole through his head.
Connor stands and walks over to the other man. He's crying and begging for his life. But all the noise doesn't make it to Connor's ears. All Connor can hear is the shallow breathing of Murphy lying a few feet away.
He shoots the man in the kneecap first. One and then the other. He stomps on them until he hears them crack. Then he shoots him in the gut, because it's supposed to be pretty painful. He grabs his wrists and pulls back each finger until they break. He shoots a few fingers off each hand. Connor sits back and admires his work. The writhing, bloody mess before him barely looks human. He puts the gun to the bastard's chest, right over his heart, and pulls the trigger.
Connor helps Murphy straighten up as much as he can in the alley and walks him back to the apartment.
=-=-=-=-=-=
He runs a shower and puts him under the warmth. Murphy flinches at every touch. After his skin's clean, Connor hands him some fresh clothes. While Murphy changes, Connor washes the blood off of himself. His shoulder's throbbing, but the wound doesn't appear too serious.
Later, Murphy helps him cauterize his shoulder, but neither of them speak. Murphy has a blank look in his eyes that he's never seen. And Connor's scared, because he can't reach him.
=-=-=-=-=-=
It's three days later when they make contact. Murphy's lying in bed shivering in his sleep. Connor leaves his bed and places a hand on Murphy's arm, shaking it gently to wake him. His twin's eyes snap open and there's fear in them.
He clutches Connor's hand and pulls him closer. Connor sits next to Murphy on the bed and holds his hand until the trembling stops.
Connor was never good with words. He can't always say everything that's in his head, it comes out jumbled. And he can't find the words to tell Murphy how sorry he is. And he really doesn't know what to say because for the last three days, Murphy has been an empty shell.
So, Connor decided not to use words at all.
He leans forward and sees panic flash through Murphy's eyes as he kisses him.