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Too Fucking Hot	By : trowacko Category: 1 through F > Boondock Saints Views: 3099 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Too Fucking Hot
- 1
Title
- Too Fucking Hot

Author - trowacko

Rating - NC17

Warnings - neko!Murphy/neko!Connor, based on a neko pic done by ponderosa121

Disclaimers - I do not own Boondock Saints in any
way, nor do I make a claim to. No profit, no harm done.

There was no such thing as a cool day in summer. Murphy grumbled, stretched and
moved to the opposite end of the couch to warm that section up while he vainly
cursed the sun to descend quicker. Having the window closed made the heat
amplify through the windows - or so he thought until ten minutes after opening
it added humidity to the agony as well.

"It's too fucking hot," he groaned, shifting
position as if doing so could lessen the heat created by the front of his body
against the couch, arms wide to keep unnecessary bends from trapping heat.
Murphy's cheek scrunched half of his face, folding both ears on his left
against the rough cloth of the couch. He pawed against the other two, which
made the warmth worse for a few moments; small price to pay for a good scratch.

"Do you keep saying that so I'll join in your misery?" Connor growled
back. On the recliner opposite, he sat splayed open, his logic identical to
Murphy's in keeping the least amount of contact between body parts, though his
head canted to the side, nearly touching his shoulder. He got up to peel his
shirt off and threw it in Murphy's direction. "Hang the heat and you for
making it worse!"

The shirt landed on Murphy's back, pooling just between his shoulder blades
where Connor's heat added to his. It was already hot, dammit!
Murphy hissed in Connor's direction and gave up the same moment. He wasn't
about to get up just to fight and make the suffering that much worse. A growl
told Connor that in a single short utterance that made the other laugh when the
swish of Murphy's long black tail refused to subside, negating the idea that it
was over. While he doubted the heat would be any less, Murphy redirected his
attention to the shirt and slid off his to ball up with Connor's to create a
big white blob that stank of their combined sweat. He tossed it to the floor
and slithered off the couch after it, giving it a half-hearted bat in Connor's
direction. Connor's expression became pained.

"It's too fucking hot," he reminded, eyes on the ball instead of
Murphy. To remind himself, he shifted, kicking his feet to lay over one arm
while his shoulders braced against the opposite side to let his head hang over
the edge. "Don't even--"

THUMP!

Watching Connor's head jerk to the left was too damn rewarding not to
appreciate, Murphy thought. Especially when it made all the muscles in Connor's
body jolt almost enough to dislodge him from the recliner. The ball landed
under his head and sat there quite innocently. Connor, however, snarled and
flipped over, fingers digging into the worn fabric hard enough to tear it and
feet braced on the cushion as his body tensed. His tail arched into the air,
flicking back and forth as if seeking.

Oh, shit.

"Goddammit, Murphy!"

"Lord's name--" He gave up and scrambled in the opposite direction,
bare feet sliding for purchase to propel him upright to run. Murphy's hands had
barely left the ground when he heard the swish of air that signaled his doom.
Teeth clenched, he caught the brunt of Connor's leap in the middle of his back
with a pained grunt. Both their bodies hit the hardwood floor and rolled over
in a mess of limbs, bare skin and jeans. The t-shirt ball -where had that come
from? - hit Murphy about the head with every other turn. Scowling, all he could
do was adjust his limbs, seek little holds to shove Connor off of him without
success. However many seconds later, Murphy's back thumped off the wall and his
head soon followed with a lovely crack that made his eyes water.

"Give!" he yelled hoarsely, flailing at Connor's shoulders.
"Give!" In that blessed moment between knowing it would never end and
trust that Connor wouldn't keep it up, Murphy didn't really mind the heat. The
t-shirt ball landed on his face and rolled off to the floor. Murphy watched
Connor get up and chuff smugly down at him. When his brother made it near his
feet, he kicked out and caught Connor's ankle to sock against its mate in
mid-step. Connor stumbled a few steps and whipped around to pounce back.
"Give!" Murphy promised, flipping over to
show his back, picture complete with his tail curled between his legs. His arms
held his head, covering his ears just in case.

When the attack didn't come, he uncurled, daring a glance over his shoulder to
see Connor meandering back to the recliner. On his back, a thin line of sweat
ran down his spine, pausing between bumps on its way down. Murphy watched it
until Connor turned around to flop back against the recliner. He could see the
thought in Connor's furrowed eyebrows that didn't need to be spoken. It was
just too fucking hot. Murphy deftly flicked the t-shirt ball in the air with
one hand to catch between his feet. He let it drop, but misgauged the distance
to his outstretched hands. The ball hit his fingertips and rolled for once,
just out of reach. Murphy gazed longingly at it, yet refused to move.

"Has the sun set yet?" Almost a whine, but not
quite. Close enough, Murphy figured.

"Aye, it has," Connor returned, rich with sarcasm. "The
brightness in here is from the new streetlights they've put in the alley to
keep us from tripping over stuff at night."

Murphy rolled over, getting to his knees to crawl the whole foot to the wall
where the windowsill was just low enough to peer out without having to get up.
Elbows on the ledge, he rested his chin against his overlapping fingers and
gazed out. His tail flicked behind him and the tall triangles of his ears
twitched back and forth as the noise from the street was processed. The sun
shown brightly between two buildings, the same as it did every evening before
it set. It was low in the horizon, but it would still be nearly an hour before
it was gone.

"Ah," Murphy complained sadly. "Mocking my trust, Connor - a man
should be able to trust his brother at least."

"Watching the sun set isn't going to make it any cooler, you know."

He closed his eyes and didn't answer, ears twitching in Connor's direction as
his brother got up with a sigh a few seconds later and crossed the room. A foot
prodded the back of one thigh and Murphy smiled, sliding his knees apart to
accommodate. Hands slid around his waist and lips worked against his neck when
Connor knelt behind him.

Connor made the heat worse, but this heat felt good.

"You're impossible sometimes," Connor muttered. His fingers worked on
loosening Murphy's pants, pushing them down with some effort when the thick
fabric stuck in places.

"Sometimes?"

"All the time," Connor amended in agreement. The jeans took
some time to slide off and away, though the loss of them did nothing to
alleviate the temperature. Murphy kept his eyes closed to view the dull, red
shine of the sun through his eyelids, listening to Connor move his body at
whim. His legs were slid wider, tail tugged against until Murphy relented and
let it curl aloft. Spit slicked fingers invaded him with patient prods, curling
and pulling once inside. Murphy's tail flicked back and forth
in tight arcs as pleasure bloomed hot in his belly. He started to shift,
stilled when Connor's teeth dug into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Time to say goodbye to sanity, the gesture warned. Murphy obediently bid it
goodbye with a shudder and a smile.

The only movement Connor allowed was Murphy moving his left hand to splay
against the glass, his right braced a bit higher before the bite became painful
to keep him steady. His back arched, spine already tingling when Connor's
fingers slid free, replaced moments later by a barely slicked dick. Murphy
could practically feel every nuance as it slid deeper. The zipper tab poked at
him, evidence of Connor's impatience. A moan loosed itself to puff steam
against the window. Already his hips rocked shallowly, wanting Connor to hurry
up, slow down, fuck him and make it last all at once. Within so many
contradictions, Connor delivered every single one.

The tempo of their hips was broken and unsteady, slowly evening out as the
slide became easier. The arms that had loosely held him let up to allow Connor
to grip his waist, fingers digging to pull back, thumbs shoving to push away.
Murphy was familiar with both commands and abided each one, rocking in faster
tandem with every thrust. Only when the rhythm had been established did Connor
loosen up a bit, one hand making the slow, but brief, journey to his erection,
fisting against it in a dare to take advantage of its presence without losing
the pace. Murphy was practically against the wall to begin with and thrusting
forward meant sending his cock against the wall with Connor's hand as its only
protection.

ohshitohshitohshitohshit

Murphy adjusted, forced his hips forward to let his cock strike the wall under
the pad of Connor's fingers. The pain was bright and electric intensity, adding
to the liquid fire already boiling in his gut. He cried out, something hoarse
with little strength behind it, though the next one was loud enough to make him
bite his lip. Connor buried himself deep with every plunge and Murphy all but
did the same to the wall and Connor's hand. Ragged breaths gave way to soft
whimpers, first of appreciation and then pleas. Murphy gave them up without
regret, fighting against his orgasm while his body wound tighter and tighter, a
coiled spring ready to go off without notice. Curled fingers became fists,
striking the window hard enough for a crack to appear in warning. Teeth scoured
over Murphy's shoulders, each bite adding to the pressure, that inevitable
build that had no limits once unleashed.

Broken gasps followed the surge of seed that spilled over Connor's hand. The
tight shudder of pleasure made his whole body buzz, nerves shutting down to
begrudgingly recharge. Still, Connor worked him against the wall mercilessly,
fist stroking erratically. Connor filled him, pinned him to the old plaster
until there was nothing left to spill.

Murphy's forehead hit the glass and slid across it until his head rested
against a shoulder that would no doubt show a dozen bite marks from Connor to
hold him still. He felt an especially tender one under his mouth and his tongue
snuck out to lick it tenderly. A smile crossed his lips when Connor did the
same thing, nudging upwards to kiss him.

"Impossible," he accused quietly, eyes lidded and a small grin giving
away his satisfaction. Murphy nodded smugly, clenching against Connor just as
his brother pulled out. The pained grunt warranted another bite to his
shoulder, but what was one more set of teeth marks between brothers?

Neither moved for a few seconds and when they did, it was Connor who staggered
to his feet first. By then, the sun was on its way down to make way for night.
Murphy was content against the window, hands still splayed against the glass as
he caught his breath.

"Next time we'll have to charge a viewing fee," Connor muttered
sourly. Pants still open and dick hanging loose, he retreated to the recliner
and resumed his previous position. Murphy glanced out the window to see a
number of faces peering back at him with awed expressions.

He couldn't help waving, amused when a number waved back without thought. The
t-shirt ball hit him in the side of the head and he fell over with a surprised
squawk. Forgetting the people in the windows, he batted it back in Connor's
direction.

"Come on, Connor, just until dinner!" he enticed, bouncing it off the
recliner and rolling with it until he hit the couch. He gazed up at Connor with
his best pouting expression, shot down when Connor resolutely closed his eyes.

"Forget it. It's too fucking hot."

*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean it's
insane*
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Too Fucking Hot