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It was rare to see one without the other. Rocco had never seen them even as far as five feet from one another, so that's why, when he walked back into his house- ("Hold the fort down, you Irish fucks. I'm going to the store real fast.")- the Italian was a little shocked and confused. Only Connor was sitting on the couch, watching some show on T.V with the volume lower than normal.
"Where's the other half?" Rocco jokingly shot at the present twin, setting the few bags he had down on the kitchen table. Connor got up with a shushing motion, grabbing another beer out of the fridge before sitting down at the table with Rocco. "Murph's sleepin' in the guest room," pause, pop the top, swallow some down, "He 'dun feel well, told him ta sleep it off, if he could." A shrug accompanied the words, the flippant nature of his friend throwing Rocco off.
"Oh. Well, is he okay?" His face twisted up in concern; the Italian had never seen either of the twins sick, but he imagined it was hellish for the both of them. Connor just shrugged again, taking another drink from his beer before moving back out to the couch. Everything was calm and quiet for a while, Rocco even managing to come and sit on the couch with Connor for a while before the Irishman visibly tensed and went rigid next to him.
Before Rocco could ask him what was wrong, Connor shot him a toothy, shit eating grin and joked, "My Murphy senses are tinglin', mate." Even with the smile, Rocco knew Connor was worried. He watched the twin get up off the couch, practically racing down the hall to where his brother was. He contemplated giving the twins some privacy for a while, but then he thought, 'Fuck it, it's my house.'
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Connor stiffened on the couch. He'd felt this before, but not in a long time. Murphy was in trouble. He was pretty sure the last time he'd felt his 'Murphy Senses' spike up, Murphy had gotten drunk at a party and broke three of his fingers trying to do god knows what. Connor still had to carry him home.
He got up off the couch, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but the second he turned the corner and was out of sight, he was sprinting down the hall to the cracked open bedroom door. Connor nudged it open with his foot as he moved in, eyes landing on Murphy's irritated face, and the blood currently dripping heavily from his nose.
Connor laughed, a hint of hysteria in his tone. "You alright there, Murph?" Murphy turned his scowl onto his twin, glaring over at him from the bed. Connor shook his head playfully, leaving the room for a few moments before coming back with a damp washrag in his hand.
Climbing onto the bed with Murphy, he motioned for him to move his hands. Complying, Connor quickly cleaned off the freed hands and refolded the cloth, pressing it onto Murphy's nose. "Hold that there," he murmured, the tenderness in his voice edging its way through.
Connor leaned away and stripped his zip-up hoodie off, leaving him in his black t-shirt. One at a time, he threaded his brother's arms through the sleeves, zipping it up and pulling on the lapels so Murphy had to lean towards him. Pressing their foreheads together, slightly chapped lips brushing against scarred knuckles, Connor whispered, "I'll take care of ya, so don't go shuttin' down on me, aye?" Murphy nodded slightly, after a few seconds, scowl fading and never breaking eye contact. That was until heavy laughter made them both snap their heads towards the doorway.
Rocco stood, watching, leaning against the door frame in all his good humor. "Oh, fuck, you two! No, no, don't move, now kiss the bride!" The word 'kiss' was accented with a loud clap of Rocco's hands. "Fuck off, Rocco," Connor rolled his eyes, exasperated, as Murphy mumbled something in the twins' native tongue.
Connor smiled brightly at him even as Murphy's face heated up, making his nose bleed even worse. Rocco snapped his fingers at them. "I know, I know, you two could make a porno! Stick a pretty blonde between ya's, and you got yourself some money-" Rocco cut himself off as he looked up, seeing that the twins weren't even paying attention to him anymore, but having a moment of their own.
" 'Con, what did he just say!?" Conner smiled wolfishly as Murphy glowered down at the sheets. "Till a dhéanamh bás sinn chuid. Till death do us part."