Made For
folder
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,307
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Boondock Saints
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,307
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I don't own Boondock Saints nor do I make any money off of it. I'm just writing this for my own amusement.
Made For
We were made for one another.
No, really, I'm not sayin' this in some drunken spur of the moment.
Honestly, how can you not see that Murph is the one for me?
We've been together since we were conceived, our souls two parts of a whole. We knew it then, even when we would just snuggle close as babes in th' crib.
All it takes is just a simple smile sometimes to make me see it, other times, it's a long slow, meticulous wind of his hips as he invites me closer with every step he takes, or maybe it's the way he nibbles on my lip with that look in his eyes.
We've always fit together like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. He is, what I'm not, and I'm the things he can't be. Though we may argue over who's older, it's never really mattered because we fit the mold for what one of us needs.
Murph's my innocence. Me? Well.. Hmm... That's a good question as to what I am to him. A pain in th' arse, maybe? Nah, more than tha'. If anything, I know I'm his snugglefritz when he's sick or when it rains. Fuckin' hell, he gets all glossy-eyed and depressed with that pouty lip. It's like watching a child do his grabby-hands towards a toy he wants.
Christ, he's beautiful, though. Especially when he's all flushed with his head thrown back, eyes widened while moaning graces that only the Lord and I can hear as I move and pound into him. The way his nails dig into my back or arms, threatening to leave welts if I don't just--ahh yes, there~!--his screams are worth it.
I admit it, though, I've allowed my dear twin the pleasure of being inside me at his request; who am I to deny him anything? It was meant to be like this, us. There's no "I" in "Us", it's as much of a take and give as it is a necessity.
The way our hands fit when our fingers twine together, the way my body fits just so against his, or the way he always seeks to hide his face in my neck. Ma knew it, Father knows it, they won't say anything to us about it, though. Surely they had to have known it would always be us from the way we were always glued at the hip.
How can you say this is wrong when the Lord above gave us this gift?
He made us in his image, we are godlike through him and he allowed us this path, knowing this was to be our path, where we would only have one another to turn to. If that's not enough permission, then what is?
It's a fuckin' fact: Murph's the one abso-fuckin'-lutely made for me. There can be no other who knows me completely through; from how I feel and think to the way he fits inside the space between. It's him, only him and I know it's the same for him.
I'm familiar with every nuance and breath he ever takes, I know what he's going to say before he speaks it, I can feel exactly what he feels. Aye, it may be a bit stir-crazy, but what isn't these days?
Just like the way I can almost taste tha' mischievous smile he makes just before he pounces on me, I can always tell when he's at his limit with the way he always stops midway and just rests his forehead on my shoulder. Always the fragile one, aren't you, Murph? Yes, he's the more sensitive, but don't tell him I ever said that. I'd never hear the fuckin' end of it. He may never let the tears fall, but I can always see them anyway.
If this isn't being made for one another, I don't know what is.
End.
------
Well, there it is. Hope everyone enjoys it! Oh, and, I know I fail at the phonetic Irish. It's sad. I speak it myself but I find it hard to type it out. Oh, well.
No, really, I'm not sayin' this in some drunken spur of the moment.
Honestly, how can you not see that Murph is the one for me?
We've been together since we were conceived, our souls two parts of a whole. We knew it then, even when we would just snuggle close as babes in th' crib.
All it takes is just a simple smile sometimes to make me see it, other times, it's a long slow, meticulous wind of his hips as he invites me closer with every step he takes, or maybe it's the way he nibbles on my lip with that look in his eyes.
We've always fit together like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. He is, what I'm not, and I'm the things he can't be. Though we may argue over who's older, it's never really mattered because we fit the mold for what one of us needs.
Murph's my innocence. Me? Well.. Hmm... That's a good question as to what I am to him. A pain in th' arse, maybe? Nah, more than tha'. If anything, I know I'm his snugglefritz when he's sick or when it rains. Fuckin' hell, he gets all glossy-eyed and depressed with that pouty lip. It's like watching a child do his grabby-hands towards a toy he wants.
Christ, he's beautiful, though. Especially when he's all flushed with his head thrown back, eyes widened while moaning graces that only the Lord and I can hear as I move and pound into him. The way his nails dig into my back or arms, threatening to leave welts if I don't just--ahh yes, there~!--his screams are worth it.
I admit it, though, I've allowed my dear twin the pleasure of being inside me at his request; who am I to deny him anything? It was meant to be like this, us. There's no "I" in "Us", it's as much of a take and give as it is a necessity.
The way our hands fit when our fingers twine together, the way my body fits just so against his, or the way he always seeks to hide his face in my neck. Ma knew it, Father knows it, they won't say anything to us about it, though. Surely they had to have known it would always be us from the way we were always glued at the hip.
How can you say this is wrong when the Lord above gave us this gift?
He made us in his image, we are godlike through him and he allowed us this path, knowing this was to be our path, where we would only have one another to turn to. If that's not enough permission, then what is?
It's a fuckin' fact: Murph's the one abso-fuckin'-lutely made for me. There can be no other who knows me completely through; from how I feel and think to the way he fits inside the space between. It's him, only him and I know it's the same for him.
I'm familiar with every nuance and breath he ever takes, I know what he's going to say before he speaks it, I can feel exactly what he feels. Aye, it may be a bit stir-crazy, but what isn't these days?
Just like the way I can almost taste tha' mischievous smile he makes just before he pounces on me, I can always tell when he's at his limit with the way he always stops midway and just rests his forehead on my shoulder. Always the fragile one, aren't you, Murph? Yes, he's the more sensitive, but don't tell him I ever said that. I'd never hear the fuckin' end of it. He may never let the tears fall, but I can always see them anyway.
If this isn't being made for one another, I don't know what is.
End.
------
Well, there it is. Hope everyone enjoys it! Oh, and, I know I fail at the phonetic Irish. It's sad. I speak it myself but I find it hard to type it out. Oh, well.