Stupid Fuckin' Rope

Stupid Fuckin' Rope

Conner and Murphy stood in the living room, the smell of blood, gun smoke, and death thick in the air. When Conner took the Russian's pager, he had no idea what he was going to do with it, but he certainly wasn't expecting this massacre to be the end result. He had only been acting on instinct when he had called the pager number back and then told Murphy his plan. Now the two brothers were standing amid a sea of bodies, adrenaline still coursing through their systems as they surveyed the situation.

"Well, name one thing you're gonna need th' stupid fuckin' rope for!" Conner said as he pulled the knotted rope from the vent while mimicking Murphy, who was looking around the room with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"That was way easier than Ah thought."

"Aye!" Conner agreed.

"Ya know, on TV you've always got tha' guy that jumps o'er the sofa," Murphy pointed out.

"And then ya've gotta shoot him for ten fuckin' minutes too," Conner said.

"Aye. Christ, we're good!"

"Yes we are!" Conner said triumphantly. He looked behind them and saw a black case on the table behind them. He stroked his chin. "Now, what do you think is in tha' little case over there?"

Murphy looked back, then at Conner. Conner fiened a step, which sent Murphy sprinting. However, Conner caught up in less than a second, then shoved Murphy to the ground. Not going down without a fight, Murphy pulled Conner with him, and they fell to the blood stained floor, laughing hysterically.

Conner looked over and saw the thick rope within arm's reach. A mischievous sparked ignited in his eye when Murphy shoved him aside so he could stand up. He was just getting to his feet when Conner slammed into his back and wrestled him to the ground. "Conner, get th' fuck off me, man!" Murphy shouted, but he was laughing too hard for it to sound serious. He got turned around so much in the ensuing wrestling match that when he didn't even realize he was tangled in the rope until Conner rolled a few feet away.

Murphy looked down and couldn't move, the rope entangling his legs and arms. He struggled furiously for a moment, until Conner's uncontrollable laughter broke him out of his trance. "Conner, get me the fuck outta here right now!" he said.

"Well, that's another thing ya can use a stupid rope for!" Conner chuckled as Murphy glared at him. "Ha ha, Con. Ah get yer point, now cut this damn thing off me!"

The blond had stopped laughing now, but the mischievous twinkle was still in his blue eyes. Murphy gulped unconsciously. Conner wasn't going to cut him loose until he was done playing whatever prank he had set his mind on. Conner may have been the older twin, but sometimes he was the most immature, and had a weakness for practical jokes, a gift from their mother.

"Conner, this ain't th' best time to--" Murphy started, but Conner rolled on top on him, cutting him off. He wrapped his arms around Murphy's neck, his fingers weaving themselves through the dark hair as he pulled his brother into a deep, lustful kiss.

Murphy was caught off-guard by his brother's brazen kiss. Not by the fact that Conner was lying on top of him, locking lips with him, but by the fact that he was doing it in the middle of a crime scene, because that was what the room had become. A dead body was only a few feet away from Murphy's left foot, and there was a puddle of blood a few feet from his tussled hair.

Conner broke the kiss off after a minute, leaving Murphy almost gasping for breath. He stared into Murphy's eyes with a grin spreading fast over his features. "So, you were sayin'?"

Murphy's mind was a blank, but Conner moved slightly and he could then feel the hardening erection through the layers of denim between them. He raised an eyebrow at him. "How the hell are ya gettin' hard here?" he asked incredulously.

Conner shrugged. "Could ask yourself the same thing, aye?" he asked, rubbing against Murphy's groin ever so slightly, eliciting a small groan from the younger brother.

Both were thinking the same thing: Damn, why was the smell of fresh blood so arousing?

Murphy tried to lean up and capture Conner's lips again, but the rope didn't allow him any major movement. Conner leaned back, just out of reach, grinning like a leprechaun when Murphy tried to wiggle free. "Conner, man, fuck off and let me up!" he growled, his jeans getting uncomfortably tight incredibly fast as his hard-on got worse, and Conner's teasing wasn't helping.

"Alright, then," Conner said with a grin before rolling off Murphy. He grabbed his jeans and unzipped them, much to Murphy's horror. "What the fuck are ya doin'?!"

Conner shrugged innocently. "Ya said to fuck off and let ya up, an' that's what I'm doin'. Wanna watch?"

"Conner, th' fuck...!" Murphy cut himself off as his brother freed his cock from his jeans. Standing so straight that would make a U.S. Marine proud, Conner seemed to be showing it off the Murphy. It was already beginning to glisten, and he had not even touched himself yet. Murphy licked his lips.

Poor Murph. His own throbbing erection was literally throbbing now, and it was more painful than pleasurable at the moment. He knew that watching Conner jack-off was not going to alleviate the situation he was in, so he closed his eyes tightly and began chanting the family prayer under his breath.

He had gotten to "En nomine patris" when Conner growled. Murphy was startled into opening his eyes, and he couldn't look away.

Conner had removed one of the leather gloves from his hands and was jerking quickly now up and down like a piston. His hips were bucking slightly, and he seemed very relaxed about the teasing.

The erection, which had been starting to soften, become stone hard again so quickly that Murphy hissed in pain. The ropes seem to be tightening around him, and the fact that he could touch himself to alleviate some of the pain made him snarl ferally "Conner, jus' fuck me an' ge' 'ti o'er with, please!"

Conner stopped masturbating and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Was tha' a wee little voice Ah heard on th' win'? Or was tha' someone admittin' tha' his older brother was right, aye?"

Murphy nodded once. "Yeah, ya were righ' 'boot th' rope, Ah'm sorry fer not belivin' ya, now will ya just fuck me NOW?"

Conner grinned. "Now yer startin' to talk sense, boyo!" he said with a easy grin. Unlike Murphy, who was going crazy, Conner seemed very relaxed; he seemed indifferent to the idea of screwing or not. As he crawled over to were Murphy was currently tied up(avoiding a body along the way), Murphy could see the lust in Conner's eyes. It was all an act; he was just as frustrated as Murphy was feeling. True, he had been getting off a little, but he had been with Murphy for so long that doing by himself just didn't cut it at all. No, Conner wanted his brother, and the fact that he had come out on top of this little mind game only made his imminent victory so much sweeter.

Murphy started to open his mouth and tell Conner to hurry the fuck up when Conner pounced, ferociously attacking Murphy's lips and neck. As he did, he pulled out Murph's Rambo knife and cut the rope off.

As soon as his hands were free, Murphy hauled back and punched Conner hard in the arm. "Tha's fer being a fuckin' dick!" Murph snarled.

"Alright, alright, Ah'm sorry! Now get offa me, Murph, we really need ta think aboot leavin'-"

Murphy stopped punching him after another particularly anger hit. Panting in exhaustion, he leaned down and whispered into Conner's ear "No'. 'Til. Ya. Finish. Whit. Ya. Started!"

Conner's spine tingled as Murphy's words echoed in his mind, emphasized by his panting breathe. His hard-on came back with full force. "Whateva' ya say, Murph!" he said with a grin.

Before Murphy could say anything, Conner was kissing him again. However, this was not a passionate kiss; this was a lustful battle of tongues, and both where getting off on the ferocity it. Conner broke apart from the brunette violently, then pushed him back on the floor. He unzipped Murphy's jeans with one hand while messaging the erection with the other. Murph couldn't help the groan that escaped him. He sighed in relief when his cock was finally freed of the restricting jeans. He was surprised it wasn't rubbed raw!

Conner was about to engulf his brother's penis when he straddled Murphy, his tight ass in Murph's face. Murphy growled, "No way in hell Ah'm lettin' ya off this easy, ya fucka!"

"Oh, shut it!" Conner said playfully exasperated. "Ah'll make sure to do ya right an' proper when we git back home, in celebration of a job well-doon."

Murphy didn't have time to retort before Conner started sucking him off this side of violently. His hands rubbed and gently squeezed while his mouth sucked, licked, and nibbled a bit. It felt like his cock had just become Conner's teething ring.

Anyone else and he would've probably gotten up and walked out. He trusted Conner; his brother wouldn't hurt him.

Much.

Murphy almost let out a very loud growl that would've brought Smecker running. The only way to keep himself quiet was to keep something in his mouth.

Conner was about to make a smartass remark about the Murph's slacking on the job when he was violently attacked. Murphy had a mouth like a goddamn vacuum when he was turned on, and Conner shuddered involuntarily. He momentarily forgot his own toy until Murphy pumped his hips a little, getting Conner's mind back on the game.

Both knew they weren't going to last long. This was quickly becoming a game to them: Whoever came first lost. It was a game them had been playing for years, and both where experts at it. However, the adrenaline coursing through them, which had been diminishing, was coming back, and both could feel that telltale tingle at the base of his spine.

Both came at the same time. Conner emptied himself into Murph's waiting mouth, and with a satisfied grin proceeded to lick Murphy's cock clean. It tasted like chocolate to him. "Make sure to clean yer plate, boyo," Conner teased, rocking his hips at Murphy. "Don' wanna leave any evidence fer Smecker ta get offen' on."

"Fuck ya, Conner," Murphy growled, not needed any incentive to lick away the semen, which had a faint vanilla taste to it. He never understood why; Conner preferred chocolate for some strange reason. Vanilla was obviously the better flavor.

Murphy bucked his hips hard to throw Conner off before his brother could try anything to get him hard again. Conner laughed at him as he zipped up his pants. He jumped up, and gave Murph a hand up. Just before he could get to his feet, Conner let him go, and took off towards the counter with the briefcase on it. Murphy followed suit, laughing in annoyance.

Inside the case was money. A lot. Several thousand, to say in the least.

"Well, fuck me!" Conner said, grabbing a wad of cash incredulously.

"Maybe lata'," Murphy said, then laughed. "The hits jist keep on comin'!" He smacked Conner upside the head with a stack of Benjamins.

"Ow! Give it a smell," Conner said, breathing in the scent of wealth.

"Ah love our new job," Murphy said in delight.

Finis