Title: Every time
Author: Layla McManus
Pairing: Connor/Murphy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, Twincest, Oral/Rimming, Anal
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed
Summary: Based on the lyrics to Britney Spears song "Every time"
Notes: Don't be too rough, it's just my first

Every Time part one

Connor lay staring at the ceiling of his small motel room, eyes transfixed upon one small crack, his mind plagued by thoughts of Murphy. Brother, Twin, other half. It'd been nearly a month now, since last he'd seen him, two since last they'd spoken. Why had he left again? Oh, yea...that's right...

:*: Flash Back :*:

Elevator, they were in the elevator heading up to the loft.

"Connor?" Murphy had been hammered, extremely hammered. They'd been at McGinty's most of the night, drinking and laughing away with their friends, until...

Murphy fell.

He'd fallen right off his bar stool, hitting his head in such a way that it'd made Connor cringe at the sound. But he'd laughed, Murphy had actually laughed, though he had to know his head would be killing him in the morning. That was when Connor decided they needed to leave, and leave they did. Now they stood in the elevator, listening to the soft grind of cables pulling them up higher and higher within the building.

"Connor?" Murphy mumbled again, leaning heavily against the back wall of the lift.

Connor had looked to him, eyes searching his twins relaxed features.

"Aye?"

"Where we goin?" Murphy had asked, speech slurred slightly.

"Home." Connor replied.

"Home...sounds nice." His brother grinned stupidly as the elevator came to a jerking hault. Connor pulled him away from the wall as he exited, heading towards the rickety old door that hid their lodgings from the world.

"Yer knackered Murph, gon' put yah to bed." Connor had said as they entered the large room, stopping long enough to get their rosaries off and hung in their proper place.

"No'm not." Murphy protested as he was pulled towards his bed, though he made no physical attempt to get away. His twin helped him out of his coat, shirt and boots, before tucking him under his blankets and whispering goodnight.

Retching, late, nearly 1am.

Connor rolled out of bed to find Murphy kneeling over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he'd gotten up and wetted a rag, using it to wipe at his brothers damp face. They'd sat on the cold tile floor side by side, until Murphy'd felt well enough to return to his bed, though Connor had forced him to rinse his mouth first.

"Yer breath's bad 'nough n'the mornin's without you addin' to 't." Connor had jokingly told Murphy before tucking him back into bed.

"Connor?" Murphy was holding his wrist, tugging him down closer, "stay here with me? 'M not feelin s'good."

"I know Murph, I know." Connor replied, grumbling to himself as he lay down beside his twin. Still, he placed a protective arm over him before slowly slipping back into the realm of dreams.

Later...nearly 3am.

Connor woke slowly, eyes fluttering open, trying to focus on the form nuzzling against his throat.

Kisses. Sweet and tender kisses. He responded eagerly, purring for the sweet attention...at first.

The fog in his brain cleared as images came to him of Murphy and the pub. He bolted from the bed...eyes finally focusing on their target. His twin was sitting up now, eyes shaded and skin lightly flushed.

"Wha--" He'd tried to form words.

"Con...lemme explain, please?" Murphy's eyes had been full of shame and pleading...but most of all, Connor remembered fear.

"You...were kissin' me..." Connor said, shock evident in his voice.

"Conn--"

"You were kissin' me." He said more firmly.

"Connor, please--"

"Why in God's name were yah kissin me?!?!" Connor had exploded on Murphy.

"Con, I just--"

"You just what?" Connor continued, eyeing his brother as if he were a stranger he'd never seen before in his life.

"I'm sorry, Connor." Murphy had mumbled, voice thick with emotion and eyes full of tears.

"Sorry for what? For committin' a sin? You do know what yah just did ta' me was a sin, don't yah?" Connor asked, standing over his brother now with fists clenched at his sides in rage.

"A sin to whom, Connor? God? Ma? The world? You?" Murphy asked, voice now bitter.

"A sin to whom? Murph, you know well as me it's a sin! Doesn't matter to who." Connor bit back.

"You think I asked to be like this? You think I truly wanted to be this way? And don't gimme that 'Oh-you-could-change-if-you-really-wanted-to' speech Connor, I've heard it enough from others." Murphy nearly yelled.

"Well, yah could!" Connor yelled back, fuming silently as he and his brother fell into an uncomfortable silence. I have to be dreaming, this can't be true. Murph would never...Reality sunk in, running cold down his spine, "I can't do this...I have to go..."

"Go, what do you mean go?" Murphy had asked, fear and confusion evident in his voice.

"I don't know...I just...I can't do this Murph! Not now..." Connor shot back, pulling his clothes on.

"Don't leave, please? I'm sorry, just...let's talk..." Murphy begged.

"No, I....I can't. I have to go." And just like that, he'd bolted for the door.

"CONNOR! NO, PLEASE?!?!" Out into the hallway, down the stairs, and into the cold night air he ran, trying to escape his brother's echoing voice.

:*: End Flash Back :*:

Connor rolled to face the wall, staring now at it's smooth surface. He felt alone, more alone than he ever had in his life. Sighing, he eyed the clock, noting the time to be 11:30pm. Where was his brother right now? At the pub, perhaps? At home, asleep? Somewhere with another man, getting his brains fucked out of his head?

Sigh.

What had scared him so badly two months ago? The fact that his brother had been kissing him, or that he'd liked it, craved more in fact? A deep frown crossed his features as he sat up in the bed, hand instinctively reaching for the rosary that wasn't there. He'd left it at the loft, too hurried to retrieve it in his hasty retreat. He felt like a coward. A small, weak, terrified coward and it disgusted him. Carding a hand through his unruly hair, his eyes settled on the bed-side phone. Call him, a voice whispered in his mind. But why? He's probably not even there, he thought. Call him!, the voice was more insistent this time. Sighing heavily, he turned to face the mint green object, lifting the receiver as his fingers moved quickly over the numbers.

Ringing once, twice, three times, four--

" 'Ello?" His brothers smooth voice poured into his ear through the receiver. That one word acting like a soothing balm to his aching soul, but he couldn't speak. Didn't know what to say even if he could. " 'Ello??" Murphy's voice came again with another pause...but then...the barest of whispers, "Connor?"

Connor shuddered, his eyes closing tightly against the world as those two syllables rolled off Murphy's tongue. Why did I call you? This'll only make things worse, he thought. His mind began to whirl in twenty different directions, as the voices of accusation and justification (which oddly sounded like his mother), began to scream at him in unison, causing him to almost miss his twins next words.

"Con, if it's you...I...I miss you...g'nite." He wanted to cry for the heartache in his brothers voice as he heard the tell-tale click of the phone being hung up. Was it so wrong, to love and be loved, by Murphy? Thinking in terms of the way Murphy wants to love you, then yes, one of those accusing voices in his head answered sarcastically. Connor sighed heavily once more as he slid to the floor on his knees, turning to face the bed as he began to pray as he had every night since leaving home.

"Dear Father, give to me yer stren'th an guidance in my hour of need. When yah tol' me to love me brother, I lis'ned, but now I find myself confused. I know it tis a sin to love one's own flesh 'n blood, but I know not what I should do. Please Father, give me a sign? Tell me what I should do. Tell me if this love me brother feels fer me is wrong or right. In nomine Patri, et fili, et Spiritu Sancte. Amen." Connor looked up to the ceiling for a moment, wondering if the Heavenly Host had heard his simple request. Would he answer it? All in time, he thought as he slid up onto the bed and under the covers.

:*: Across Town :*:

A single tear slid unnoticed down Murphy's smooth, pale cheek as he gazed into the dark emptiness of their loft...his loft, now. The phone lay in his limp fingers as he tried to desperately hold onto the feeling he had felt when the phone rang; that connection. It had to have been Connor, it just had to have been because he'd felt it, the connection they'd shared since birth. Another tear fell as he closed his eyes, the dull throb in his chest further deepening into a true ache.

Sliding down on his beat-up mattress, Murphy curled into a ball as he reached for Connor's pillow, hugging it tightly to his chest. Though it'd been nearly two months now he could still smell his brothers scent, deeply ingrained within the cotton. Tears flowed freely now as he cried, silent wracking sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...Please God, make this right. Take this sickness from me. Bring me brother home, and make it a'right again 'tween us." His broken words echoed in the stillness, laying cold and as alone as he'd ever felt, in the darkness. Sleep child, a soft voice cooed to him, Sleep...

Part two >