Nicholas: Oh jesus, this took a while. It's really dirty, too. So if you blush at masturbation or sodomy, it ain't for you, hon. To all my returning readers, I'm glad that you love me, please continue to do so so that I don't wither away like Leonardo DiCaprio did in Total Eclipse. Becki knows what I'm talking about with my mindless, sleep-deprived babbling, if she was listening to said mindless, sleep-deprived babbling before. Speaking of which, Becki beta-ed and bickered, so she's the reason I got this done. We also made a mockery of a whole HELL of a lot of SPF and NR pictures during the making of this fic. You may be able to find them on my MySpace or photobucket within the week if you PM me for the info that'll get you either which-where...anyway, here you are. And you are not mistaken for I DO bite. Good night all, I need sleep now!

Disclaimer: I'm too tired to type out all that bulshit that I don't own this and in fact the respective owners do. And I no longer am a happy leprechaun, so give me back my pot of gold.

Rating: M...sex...language, but mostly sex...sodomy, threesome, domination...SEX!! (I'm a HOOT when I'm tired...falls unconscious on keyboard lk;ajre;goidfan;hnadh;erjmngag)

Connor saw the last thing he'd expected when he opened the door to his apartment. Well, their apartment because he shared it with his brother—the brother that wasn't supposed to be home right now, neither of them was. The first thing Connor saw (being also the last thing he expected, mind you) was that his bed was currently occupied. By the looks of it, Murphy had some guy pinned down to the mattress by the wrists, frantically kissing him as if he feared just this interruption would come. As the two sat up, automatically detaching from each other and looking with matching wide eyes at Connor, he realized that it also seemed like Murphy had been the one pinned to the mattress. "Th'fuck?" was all he could think to say as he let the door shut behind him.

As Connor ran a hand through his blond hair, contemplating the situation on the bed, he realized that the one thing that made it so he could decipher which was his twin was that Murphy always wore a T-shirt and jeans and this other man was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. They were very nice slacks as well. It looked like there were a pair of twins sitting side-by-side, shifting awkwardly and sharing a quick, guilty glance much the way he and Murph had acted when they been scolded in school.

"'Ey, Conn," it was definitely Murphy in the jeans and T-shirt. He awkwardly lifted his hand to pull at his lower lip in that familiar nervous gesture. Aéquitas showed out in green letters on his index finger. "What're ya doin' here?"

"What, indeed? I live here, ya idjit." The blond wasn't exactly angry—though by rights he should have been. "Who's this?" He motioned to the other Murphy, who's shirt was laying open over his chest. Connor noted that he had a bit more of a muscular build.

"This is Marco," Murphy introduced, glancing to his side almost as though he regretted laying eyes on this guy.

"And you are…?" Marco began, not one bit happy about being left in the dark. Not to mention that he'd come up here to get laid and that wasn't happening at the moment.

Before Connor could reply—and say something nasty by the looks of it—Murphy butt in with: "Tha's me brother, Connor."

"Looks like a jealous boyfriend to me." There was a hint of something from Brooklyn in this man's voice and his posture just screamed that he was someone who'd just gotten out of jail. He was handsome, yes, and his body didn't lack anything to be desired, but Connor knew that this was because of the resemblance to Murphy. They had the same facial structure, the same black hair and even a similar beauty mark (though Marco's seemed to be a lot closer to his nose).

"Jus' shut it, will ya?" Murphy snapped viciously. He gave his twin a shifty, unnerved look.

Shaking his head, Connor went to the fridge and got himself a beer because there was not hope in saying anything else until he'd gotten some alcohol into his system. After taking a long drink, he sat down on the couch and looked once more at the tense pair over on that cot. "Ya really know how ta pick 'em, Murph," he commented ironically. He had to hand it to his brother that, in his own opinion, this was a wonderfully tasteful choice of one-night stands. Still, the eerie similarities between them made for some strange uncertainties about Murphy's vanity. "Ye can calm down, I'm not gonna shoot ya, Jesus."

With a relieved sigh, Murphy's back let out some of the tension so he could slouch a bit. "Tha's a relief, I was beginnin' ta wonder."

"S'not like I said ya couldn't fuck other guys…I just didn't think ya'd sneak around b'hind me back."

"Wasn't sneakin' around," Murphy defended himself indignantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Would ya really want me ta go up ta ya an' say, 'hey Conn, I have a hard-on an' since yer busy m'gonna find some random smuck ta fuck.' No offense meant." He offered the last bit to Marco, who up until then had grown very quiet.

"None taken," he muttered with a shrug.

"I see yer point." Connor interrupted himself with another swig, gulping down the bubbly liquid like supplement air. "Still don't get why ya chose someone tha' looks almost exactly like ya. Hm…he seems like my kind o' guy really." Then he suddenly felt like he was being rude, so he turned to the guest. "Sorry, kinda ignorin' ye, aren't we?"

"Nah, it's fine. This is an interesting conversation. I thought you were brothers."

"Ya wouldn't fuck yer brother?" Murphy asked flatly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, both brother's knew that it wasn't—a fact that they delighted in ignoring. "That's not the point tho'…Conn—?"

"I hope I'm not stoppin' ya."

Immediately, Murphy's brow furrowed in something like surprise and confusion. When he saw his life-long friend standing there he'd been sure that he was caught and ready for the gallows. Apparently, he shouldn't make assumptions. "What d'ya mean?" he asked, slowly, carefully.

Setting his beer can on the floor by his feet, the blond leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees. "I mean, ya don' have ta stop what ye were doin' just 'cause I'm here."

"Huh?"

"Stop bein' thick-skulled. I wanna watch, dumb-ass."

Clearing his throat, Marco gave a wry chuckle, once more attracting the twins' attention. "Damn, Murphy…I thought you were a slut."

It shouldn't have, but that statement sent a thrill down the spines of both Connor and Murphy. The blond had just received thoughts of what Murphy may have done to deserve that comment, and the raven-haired twin was deciding how to take that. "That sounds like a challenge ta me," he hissed with a playful glare at his bed-partner.

Connor chuckled lightly at hearing Marco's muffled surprise with Murphy pushed him down to the position they'd been in before. He'd never really understood the reason for pornography and stuff like this, and he's certainly never done anything like this before, but that doesn't mean he hadn't thought about it. Watching complete strangers fuck on screen was pointless. Watching his brother push himself down on a mirror image and claim the man's mouth and body in a matter of moments…that had purpose and definitely retained some sort of artistic perfection. Or at least…it made him harder faster than anything else could have.

The two struggled for a time, Marco stubbornly trying to gain control while Murphy grabbed at his wrists and pinned them to the pillow above his head. A few seconds passed before finally Marco managed to wriggle free and turn the tables. Murphy giggled quietly and clung to his partner kissing at his neck where the collar of that dress shirt had fallen away. As his back pressed against the mattress, he felt hands pry his shirt up and off and wondered for a moment how Connor was faring by himself on the couch. It was a lost thought when Marco pushed him down and kissed him hard on the throat, then bit lightly. The Irishman squirmed and wrapped his arms around the other, a small cry coming forth from his tight throat.

White fabric was yanked down shoulders and off so that Murphy gained access to firm, muscular shoulders. It was something to hold on to as his jeans were being assailed with a vengeance. When the fly just wouldn't come undone, Marco began to wonder if this was some sort of plan against him, maybe the people that ran this shithouse called life just really wanted a pissed off, horny Marco Vindetti on their hands. "Fucken thing," he snapped unhappily.

Murphy took the other's chin in his hands and kissed him again—a bit of a laugh in his eyes—and then reached down to get the stubborn buttons loose so that the man could be appeased with old jeans hitting the floor with the shirts. He hadn't been wearing underwear of any sort; there wasn't a doubt in his mind that the snicker he heard coming from somewhere to his left was Connor at the commando tendencies. By this point, he was definitely planning to put on a show for his brother when he reached down and gripped his hands tightly over the other's ass.

It wasn't hard at first to just sit there and watch. Connor stared intently at the movements that he knew so well as Murphy and the new ones he thought clashed. Marco had a rough, almost abrasive way of touching and grasping and an animalistic growl tugging at the back of his throat. While Murphy retained a rather cool, controlled finesse in grinding up against the other, Marco straddled him and held him roughly. Ironically, the blond liked it—liked seeing it. The way Murphy's breath sped up, his barely detectable whine: all the trademarks of his arousal made Connor realize that just watching was going to be harder than he'd thought. He squirmed slightly in his seat, pressing his hand against a steadily growing bulge in his jeans and listened as Murphy muttered something he didn't catch.

Marco heard it quite well being that it was whispered right into his ear. "Enjoy topping, because you aren't staying there."

With a scoff, the Italian pushed down on his shoulders and silenced him with a brutal kiss. He reached between them to undo his jeans, liking that Murphy was shivering below him; liking that Murphy panted and whimpered at the touch of his tongue and the press of his fingers. The metal clasp of his slacks slid undone, but Murphy then grabbed his hands and pulled them away.

Their mouths joined zealously once more; Marco felt something pushing him down from behind. His hands slammed into the mattress on either side of Murphy's head to steady himself from falling over. As his partners arms wrapped around his waist, he was aware of another hand locked in his hair and the pair to that tracing down his spine. With an alarmed squeak, he tried to break away, but found that he couldn't. A weight pressed down on him and the mattress sank behind him. That and the way Murphy chuckled into his mouth told him that the brother had decided to join.

"Sorry," Connor hissed in Marco's ear, "Murphy doesn't take it from anyone but me."

As quick as that, the twins somehow managed to get him on his back and Murphy nestled down between his legs before unzipping his slacks. Marco's feet went skyward as the pants were slid off. Then went his boxers and he just stared uncertainly at Murphy above him with Connor's head bobbing over his shoulder, pecking him tenderly on the cheek. He didn't get it at first, but then realized that maybe it was some weird comfort thing for them as twins—though he honestly couldn't place a time where he'd ever heard a man claim his brother's chastity. "So much for watching," he muttered grumpily as Murphy crawled over him and once more got his wrists pinned down to the blankets.

"Can't take the pressure," was all the blond would say to it.

Dipping his head down, he licked a wet line over the bumps of the small of Murphy's back and the shiver that shook him in turn made Marco blush a bit hotter. He met Connor's blue eyes as the ebony-haired twin nipped and pecked at his chin. "-as pris les condoms, mon amoureux," Murph muttered.

Marco had this feeling that it was directed at Connor, being that he didn't know the language, but the one word he did recognize sent a thrill through his gut strait into his erection. Bucking up, he tried to grind against the other to get some friction. Even hearing a chuckle in his ear didn't give him enough cause to try to control his actions. Too much was happening too fast, and he didn't want to miss it. He craned his neck to watch a shirtless Connor slip off the bed—removing his jeans on the way—and disappear obviously to retrieve said protection.

Pale hands with long fingers curled under the backs of his knees and pulled his legs up as Murphy moved downward and pressed biting kisses on his pecs. The bed sank once more and the twin reached over to receive the small, square package at the same moment that Connor offered it, not even breaking his concentration—it was almost as if he'd sensed the offer. Anyway, he kept it tucked between two fingers as he pushed the legs up and his kisses moved lower on Marco's abdomen. Sweat oozed out of every pour of the man's body as Murphy's lithe, talented mouth descended on his arousal. Connor carefully crept over his brother and took up the occupation of pinning Marco's hands down.

Every breath started to come a little bit faster than the one before it; Marco felt his legs flew on their perch on Murphy's shoulders. "Oh god," he murmured. After a beat, Murphy sucked hard on him and Connor leaned in to lick at a nipple. The Italian moaned and pushed his head back into the pillow. "You're trying to kill me…"

Murphy said something that only resulted in a vibrating warmth that shot strait through Marco. "He said 'we just got started'," Connor translated.

It wasn't needed though because just then the pale-skinned, dark-haired Irishman then abandoned his blowjob to open that lubricated condom and slip it on. "Stay alive fer a few more minutes, I'm havin' fun," he snickered moving his head down again. He felt his brother back off and knew that it was so he could see better. His mouth just passed it's previous occupation and he shoved Marco's legs higher still and licked at his tight opening.

Both the blond and the Italian gave a similar responding sigh. That is, until Murphy delved his tongue into that hole, making Marco squirm and grasp his hair with now-freed hands. Proportionally, the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body and this dark-haired slut just proved that without a doubt in Marco's mind. He gave a loud, hoarse exclamation expressing the raw heat and pleasure he was getting from this man just with this act alone. Too soon—and too suddenly—Murphy's tongue withdrew and decided to instead draw lines up his current lover's abdomen.

The backs of Marco's knees formed a perfect cup over each of Murphy's shoulders and Connor's fingers dug deep into his brother's hips to push him insistently towards the actual penetration that Murphy loved to teasingly avoid until the last minute. Hearing the cry that the Italian gave and knowing that it was his twin that did that made Connor slightly light-headed. His lips started to tingle, just so slightly, and he knew what from and how to remedy it. After turning the other's head to the side, he imposed an awkward kiss over his shoulder. That was when his hands began to trace and stroke in a long, upward journey the contours of the terrain that he knew so well until he held his closest friend in a tight embrace. Murphy's hips were barely moving, a slight inoutinout pace that caused as little friction as possible and Connor knew he was doing it on purpose.

"C'mon, Murph, faster, harder," he whispered and heard a responding agreement in the form of a nod and a grunt from the man on his back. Connor was hard—had been since he'd walked in on this scene, really—but now he was throbbing. "Get him goin' so I can get ye goin'."

Murphy's delighted chuckle was lost in an exerted grunt of his body jerking a bit more this time to drive into the other man. "Do it," he demanded in a low hiss.

"I think I will."

And just as Connor reached around for another condom, he caught sight of aéquitas and another finger slipping behind Marco's kiss-swollen lips and wondered just what his brother was planning. The man absently sucked on the digit, eyes closed, body tensed as tight as a guitar string. Successfully, the blond's hand returned with a square, silver package and he ripped it open. Murphy's fingers were extracted with a sound pop and Connor had to catch his breath so he didn't pass out at seeing Murphy reach behind him and shove those fingers deep inside himself. His hips bucked sharply involuntarily and Marco's eyes shot open to see why.

"Okay," the Italian panted, "I admit it…you're a slut, Murphy."

Connor's arms wrapped around the other's shoulders and his face nuzzled into the dark locks of hair on Murphy's head. "I couldn't agree more."

"Hn…better believe it." His smirk was slightly strained because of the division of his concentration on both fucking the one-night-stand impaled on him and "preparing" himself for his lover.

After a few more moments, Connor couldn't take it anymore. He felt certain that he would explode if Murphy kept up with this. Pulling the other's hand away, he bent him forward just slightly and wriggled his way under his thighs to seat him snugly on his arousal. Murphy gasped and hitched as he always did, the difference this time being that the chain reaction made Marco flinch and then whimper as the thrusts into him intensified. It didn't take more than a few moments to find the perfect rhythm to catch his twin on the withdraw and make it as deep as possible each time.

"Oh fuck!" That was Marco.

"Shit…shit…shit…" Murphy.

Connor just took to muttering some weird quatrain in Latin, but even Murphy couldn't make out what he was saying. The springs screeched and the bed frame shook with the force of increasing passion between the three men. Marco reached above his head for the headboard and then gripped it until his knuckles were white. His head was bent back as far as possible—purposely avoiding looking at the twins because he knew that it would just set him off and make this end quicker. Murphy twisted his neck as much as possible to capture his brother's mouth in between hoarse, whispered "shit"'s and Connor's rhythmic chanting. They were the three of them lost to the fire.

Marco woke up the next morning with a brother on each side of him, each had an arm and a leg slung over his naked body. A chilly shiver snaked through him when he realized that they hadn't bothered with a blanket before falling asleep—unconscious from exhaustion. He looked to his left to see Connor's blond hair and tanned skin pressed against him seamlessly. On his right was Murphy's opposite appearance laying somewhat aloof, though still keeping contact. He'd heard about men fantasizing about having some pair of lesbian "twins" in their beds, but he doubted it was often that a guy got to wake up with true twin brothers that loved each other this way. It made him feel a bit awkward, really.

Carefully, he wiggled out from under discarded limbs and sat up on the edge of the cot. As he was holding his head—a bit of a headache pounding behind his eyes—he heard movement behind him. When he looked back, Murphy had rolled over into the empty space he'd vacated and cuddled up close to his brother. A strange smirk crossed his face as he fished around the floor for his boxers and slacks. Man, that was an interesting night, he thought ironically.