It had started earlier that day, and from what he'd heard on the radio, it was likely to continue late into the night. Murphy tapped his pencil absently on his open book, unfinished homework abandoned by his attention for the ethereal snowfall outside. Murphy looked down at his assignment, due the next day. He grinned.

Fuck it.

Murphy slammed his books shut, shoved them haphazardly into his bag and took off like a shot past the bewildered librarian and out the main door. He wanted to roll in the snow as soon as he felt it crunch beneath his feet, but logic caught up, reminding him about things like pneumonia and frostbite. He contented himself with catching flakes on his tongue, humming Jingle Bells and jogging home.

Murphy knew his Ma was at Aunt Mary's helping decorate for her Christmas party and would probably spend the night. He and Connor would be on their own for dinner, but he wasn't too hungry yet. He could only think of the snow outside. Murphy passed their hill on the way home, it looked perfect for sliding.

Murphy took the stairs two at a time and burst into the bedroom. He wasted no time and rifled through his dresser for the essentials- long johns, socks, hat, gloves, scarf. He was just lacing up his boots when Connor came in.

"Hey Connor!"

Murphy leapt up and grabbed his brother in a fierce hug.

"AH! Christ, Murph, can't breathe!"

Murphy let his brother go and hopped about the room with glee, not noticing the uncomfortable look on Connor's face.

"Ah, Connor! Didja get a chance ta go outside yet? Tha hill is perfect, we should go before those O'Reilly brats muss up tha snow!"

Connor had started to undress and change, but it wasn't into long johns.

"Murphy, I can't go."

Murphy halted abruptly and looked at his brother in confusion.

"Whaddya mean, ya can't? Why tha hell are ya wearin' a tie?"

Connor sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Katie's havin' a party at her house, I promised ta be there. You're invited too, if ya want ta go and I promise we'll go slidin' tamorrow."

Murphy sank to his bed, legs refusing to hold him up. He thought he was going to be sick. He couldn't look at Connor.

"Connor, why can't ya tell Katie ya've got the flu or somethin'? She'd believe ya, and wouldn't hold it against ya. Come slidin' with me."

Connor shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Murph, I PROMISED her."

Murphy lost it and leapt wildly to his feet, invading Connor's space.

"What about ME?! I NEVER fucken see ya!! Is it too much ta fucken ask?!"

Connor's face contorted in hurt and anger.

"FUCK you Murphy!! We're not little fucken kids anymore, why cantcha fucken ACT like it?! I'm goin' ta tha party, whether you come with me or not!"

The anger sung through Murphy like a searing lance and before he knew it he was on Connor, his fist connecting soundly with his brother's jaw.

They were a tornado of violent rage, fists and cursing. The anger turned them animal against one another and they both vied desperately for triumph. Finally Connor won out, slamming his brother hard against the wall. The both of them had bloody mouths, Connor a purpling jaw and Murphy a bleeding nose. They breathed heavily against one another and Connor suddenly felt violently ill.

He let go of Murphy who promptly sank to the floor in a battered heap. Connor cleaned his face and changed his shirt. Before he left for the party he threw a wet rag at Murphy. The words were like acid in his mouth.

"Ya better clean yerself up before Ma gets home, wouldn't want ya ta get two beatins in one night."

Murphy's rage returned like a re-opened wound. He leapt up and yelled hoarsely at Connor's retreating form.

"FUCK you!! I hope ya fucken CHOKE on tha egg-nog!"

The door slammed shut in reply.

xXxXxXx

Murphy seethed and trudged angrily through the snow, wiping frozen tears from his eyes as he made his way to their hill. He felt like he was breaking apart inside.

He knew Connor didn't hate him, so it was very difficult for him to see why his brother insisted on acting like such a fucken prick. Sure, they were getting older… but to Murphy, sliding with Connor at the first snow was just as important as putting up the Christmas tree every year. It wasn't really winter if they hadn't done it proper. Why didn't Connor see that?

When he reached the hill Murphy just stared at its pristine beauty. He felt empty and tired, but he had walked all the way there so he jumped on his tube and slid down, a lone dark figure making tracks in the snow.

Over and over he went, sliding down and marching up until Murphy could no longer feel his fingers or toes. Satisfied he had done enough sliding for the both of them Murphy decided to head back home. Halfway back up the hill he noticed someone standing at the top and when he got closer he realized it was Connor.

Murphy had been prepared to say something particularly nasty but instead gasped when he got a good look at his brother. Connor looked like he'd been run over by a truck.

"Jaysus, Connor! What tha fuck happened?"

Connor's shirt was all torn and he had a cut over his eye that bled profusely making him look like something out of a horror movie. He motioned for Murphy to follow him and they started walking. Connor pulled two cigarettes from his pocket and lit them both, handing one to his brother. Murphy knew Connor wouldn't talk till he'd finished his cigarette so they walked in silence having fallen in step.

They had made it nearly to the front porch by the time Murphy had stamped his butt out. They were both freezing cold so they went inside the warmth of their house and straight up to their room. Connor washed his face for the second time that night and flopped down on his bed. Murphy, after removing his wet outerclothes did the same.

"Alright now, out with it."

Murphy stared at his brother intently, and watched Connor wince as he propped himself up on one arm.

"Got in a fight with Katie's older brother."

Murphy snorted humorlessly.

"Two beatins in one night, huh? What, did he catch ya tryin' ta feel up Katie's skirt under tha mistletoe?"

Connor shook his head.

"Nah."

When it became clear Connor wasn't going to add to that Murphy became irritated.

"Well what tha fuck happened then?"

Connor frowned down at his blanket, picking at a thread there.

"He…he said somethin' real awful about ya."

Murphy just looked blankly at Connor. He didn't really like Katie's brother and barely spoke to him.

"What tha fuck did he say?"

Murphy could barely hear when Connor spoke next.

"He called ya a dirty faggot, said one o' his friends caught ya out back o' tha school with another guy."

Murphy's eyebrows nearly rocketed off his face and his jaw fell. He could not even form an intelligent reply to that. Connor suddenly looked horrified.

"Ya didn't, didja?"

That snapped Murphy back to reality. He chucked a pillow straight at Connor's head.

"Of course I fucken didn't! I haven't the fucken foggiest where he would come up with that shite."

A thought occurred suddenly and Murphy groaned.

"Fuck! He's probably told tha whole fucken school!"

Connor smirked wickedly.

"Nah, he said it happened just today and if he knows what's good fer 'im he won't be spreadin' that filth around. Besides, he won't be able ta talk right for at least two days."

Murphy snorted, and looked pointedly at his brother.

"What about Katie?"

Connor grimaced.

"Even if her parents would let me back in her sight I wouldn't talk ta her again. She believed her brother and said ya always were strange."

Murphy frowned.

"I'm sorry Connor. I know ya liked her."

Connor shrugged. Murphy looked at his brother, curious.

"Connor."

"Aye."

"What was it about Katie? I mean, I know she's cute but no offense, I thought ya'd lose interest in a coupla weeks."

Connor sighed heavily, getting up from his bed and changing into sweats. Murphy sat up on his bed and waited patiently for an answer.

Connor sat down next to his brother and Murphy gasped when he reached over and put a hand on his face.

"She reminded me of you."

Connor's hand burned his cheek, and he'd lost the ability to breathe. Connor brought their foreheads together, and there was a tear on the end of his nose.

"I'm so SORRY Murph."

Murphy crushed Connor's lips to his own and they moaned desperately into each others mouths. Murphy kissed Connor like he was starving for it, and he shuddered violently at his brother's touch.

They rolled together there, on the bed they'd shared almost a year ago and Murphy couldn't stop the tears from streaking his down his cheeks. The wet heat of Connor's tongue drove away coherence and he whimpered, completely overcome. When they broke for air Connor fastened his mouth onto Murphy's neck, wanting to taste every beautiful inch of his brother's salty skin. Murphy moaned in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Murph, want ya…"

Murphy tore at his brother's shirt and they broke apart. They shed their clothes in almost ridiculous haste, the need to feel skin temporarily overriding sanity. The fabric gone, Murphy pressed Connor flush against him, moaning as they ground their hips together. He felt his brother's shivers like they were his own. Connor whimpered, pulling Murphy's face into his, mouths colliding in a symphony of slick heat and need.

There was an inferno slowly burning them from the inside and they could not get close enough. Connor pried one of his brother's hands from his back and looked Murphy straight in the eye as he slowly ran his tongue over the palm side, slicking it. Murphy moaned piteously, grinding against his brother hard.

"Oh God…"

Connor guided his brother's hand between their fevered bodies, closing it on his own aching cock and arched hard at the touch.

"FUCK! Murph…so good…please…"

Murphy's eyes widened in wonder, and he immediately paid the same attention to Connor, moaning in lewd pleasure at the salty taste of his brother's fingers. When Connor's hand wrapped around his weeping cock Murphy was sure he was about to lose consciousness. Only the beauty of his brother's pleasure kept him on this side of reality and he watched in amazement the rapture that played out on Connor's face.

"God, Con…love ya…"

Connor used his free hand to crush their mouths together. Slick hands slid over swollen cocks, wet tongues communed in searing, desperate hunger and their moans of pleasure rose and fell like tides on each other's ears.

"Fuck…Connor…m'gonna…"

Connor bit down hard on his brother's shoulder while Murphy buried his face into Connor's neck. Their movement grew to a frenzied pace and they both let out muffled wails, spurting into each other's hands.

They lay like that, foreheads pressed together while the shaking subsided, sharing panting breaths. Connor pulled back to study Murphy's face. He smiled and wiped tears from his brother's flushed face and they both let out shaky laughs.

"That was…"

"Aye."

The heat grew overbearing and they rolled onto their backs, laying side by side. Murphy turned his head to look at Connor, favoring him with smirk before licking his hand clean. Connor's eyes fell to half mast and he moaned.

"Christ, Murph, you're a dirty motherfucker."

Murphy grinned and pulled Connor's fingers to his lips.

"Lord's fucken name."

Connor's eyes fluttered shut as his brother's mouth cleaned his fingers.

"Mother Mary, full of Grace…"

With what little energy still remained, Connor reached to the floor for his t-shirt and wiped him and Murphy clean. His stomach gave a loud protest of hunger.

"Fuck…'m hungry…"

Murphy laughed, elbowing his brother.

"Aye, myself as well, but if ya think I'm cookin' fer ya, yer right outta yer skull. Luckily Ma left us some sandwiches."

"Hey Murph, Ma's gone fer tha night, is she not?"

"Aye."

Connor gave his brother a sly smile.

"Let's spike tha tea."

The End. Merry Christmas!