Three days into noveling and I already find myself needing a break to work on a one-shot. Blame Monica for this one, since she requested it of me in the first place.

The Confession

Connor and Murphy stood in a single-file line amongst all the other students in their class, waiting to be led into the church for their weekly confession.

Murphy didn't mind going to confession; it got him out of class for a little while, and he did feel a little bit more clean and pure afterwards. What he couldn't stand, though, was the fact that he couldn't confess the largest sin held in his heart, and therefore would always be tainted, regardless of how many weeks he went to confession.

Murphy wasn't even sure that this particular sin was so bad, because he never felt guilty about it until he remembered he couldn't confess it. He never felt bad for cussing or getting into fights because he knew that he would be absolved of it in a few days' time, but this one was different.

To put it simply, Murphy was in love with his twin brother. He could stare at Connor for hours, if he could ever go unnoticed for so long, and never grow tired of the sight. Sometimes when his brother slept Murphy would stay up just to watch the steady rise and fall of his usually bare chest, to gaze upon the smooth, untroubled facial expression that Connor wore in dreams; he longed to run his fingers over Connor's tanned skin, or to kiss those lush lips, but of course he refrained from doing so, because the rift that would cause between them would be too great to bear.

Some days, as they filed into the church, Murphy would try to work up the courage to tell the priest about his love for his brother. He would rehearse the words repeatedly in his head, thinking that this time he would finally push them out, but in the end they never got past his throat. Today was no exception, and his internal monologue consisted of many "m'gonna do it this time" type sentiments.

The students were led into the church, and were allowed to seat themselves wherever they pleased amongst the pews, as if knowing that they would be confessing soon would make them behave.

Murphy blindly followed Connor down the aisles, letting him sit where he wanted, and didn't really pay attention to who Connor plopped down next to until he saw Connor lean slightly to the side and whisper, "Hello, ladies. Y'know, I think there's somethin' much more interestin' we could get up to in that confessional booth. What d'ya say?"

The girls giggled, their cheeks turning a bright pink color. One of them, a redhead with emerald green eyes that Murphy had never learned the name of, placed a hand on Connor's thigh as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Murphy was aghast, not only at Connor's behavior, but at the gall this girl had to dare touch him. Sure, Connor didn't belong to Murphy, but that didn't mean he didn't get jealous from time to time, especially when some vamp was trying to sink her claws into the boy he loved.

Murphy closed his eyes, trying hard to ignore the sound of the girls' giggles and Connor's husky whisper. He tried to think pure thoughts, tried to be a good Catholic boy who prayed in church and repented his sins. But somewhere in the midst of all that he started imagining Connor whispering to him that way as he brushed the hair back from his face, the way he'd done to a dozen girls before.

In a twisted sort of way, Murphy wished he'd been born a girl, because then maybe Connor would pay him more attention. He knew that thinking was wrong, for several reasons, but he couldn't help it; he loved Connor too much. But Connor didn't pay him any attention, at least not of the variety he so hoped for, and so Murphy continued to wish.

Connor's palm was resting on the redhead's knee, his fingers toying with the hem of her plaid skirt. She made no move to push him away, but rather shifted herself on the bench so that her skirt rode up an inch or two higher.

Murphy saw red then, his vision blurring with the hot jealous tears that were threatening to overtake him. Once again he closed his eyes, and prayed to the Lord asking for strength, practically begging the Almighty to help him overcome his impurities.

But he felt no different than he had a few moments before. He was still jealous and angry and lusting after his brother. Maybe that meant that God had put him and Connor together for a reason. Maybe God knew that their souls were meant to be connected, and so he let them be borne together, as twins, so that they would never be separated in any way. A love as pure as Murphy's couldn't really be a sin, could it?

"Murph, ye alright?" The sound of Connor's voice snapped him back into reality. When he opened his eyes again the two girls were gone and Connor was staring at him, concern shining in those blue eyes that Murphy often dreamed of getting lost in.

"Yeah, m'fine. Why?" Murphy made his voice come out even, putting the most unemotional mask on his fact that he could.

"Ye had yer eyes scrunched up all tight, an' ye ain't been too talkative today." Connor shrugged as he leaned back against the pew.

"Ye wouldn't'a heard me over those lasses' giggles, anyway." Murphy mumbled.

To his surprise Connor laughed. "Yer probly right about that."

It was a simple sentence, but it caused Murphy's heart to nearly drop down to the soles of his feet. In just five words Connor had confirmed everything Murphy ever thought, and had quite effectively shattered Murphy's hopes of ever being man enough to confess his sin.

Murphy didn't speak to Connor for the rest of that time. They both went through confession, just like everyone else, and then stood at the back of the line when the class began to leave.

Just as they were about to pass through the church doors, Murphy had an idea. He strayed behind the others and grabbed Connor, pulling him back into the church as the doors closed behind the others.

"Murphy, what're ye doin'?" Connor raised one eyebrow at his twin.

"Needa talk to ye." Murphy averted his eyes from his brother's gaze, lowering them to the floor lest he chicken out again.

"Ye couldn't just say whatever it is while we were walkin' back to class? We were at the back of the line anyway."

Murphy shook his head, finding that his words had run dry. He furtively glanced around the church, confirming that it was empty, and then grabbed Connor's hand and pulled him toward the confessional booth.

"What the fuck, Murph? Can't ye just tell me here without draggin' us into the damn confessional? Ain't no one here!" Connor broke away from Murphy's grasp, swining his arm in an arc around the empty church.

"What if someone comes back in? Please, Conn, it's important." Murphy kept his voice low, his eyes pleading with his brother, and finally Connor sighed and relented.

They piled into the confessional together, quietly closing the door behind them. Murphy could barely even think with his twin in such close proximity; their chests were touching, their faces just inches apart, and all Murphy wanted to do was cup Connor's cheeks and kiss him.

"What is it ye need to talk to me 'bout, Murph?" Connor's voice had taken on a much gentler tone, trying to make sure he didn't upset Murphy again.

Murphy took a deep breath as he thought of how to begin. S'now 'r never, Murph. Ye can't confess to a priest, but Connor'll understand if ye just explain things right, won't he?

"Well, Conn, th'thing is… I can't confess this kinda thing to a priest, but m'hopin' if I tell ye, ye won't judge me fer it."

"I could never judge ye fer an'thin', Murph." Connor smiled, patting his brother's shoulder softly, reassuringly.

Murphy looked up into Connor's eyes, so ready to spill his secrets, but somehow he just couldn't get the words out. Connor was so trusting, so sure that he wouldn't judge or hate Murphy, when Murphy was quite sure that he would anyway. Murphy didn't want to betray the trust that Connor had placed in him, didn't want to ruin the bond they shared. But he had to get this secret out, had to tell Connor how he felt, lest it tear him apart from the inside out.

The words were gone from Murphy's brain, but as the old adage went "a picture's worth a thousand words." Murphy closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Connor's, gently so his brother wouldn't freak out more than he was probably already going to.

Connor's lips were slack with surprise, and for a moment he was too shocked to do anything but think. His own brother was kissing him, and not on the cheek or forehead like normal, but flush on the lips like a lover would. And, oddly enough, he was enjoying it. Murphy's mouth was soft, his lips smooth and fleshy; even some of the girls Connor had kissed hadn't had a mouth half as nice as Murph's. And Murphy was being cautious about this kiss, knowing that every move he made could ruin Connor's bond with him forever.

Murphy was about to pull away, his lips just beginning to leave Connor's own, when Connor wrapped his arms around Murphy's shoulders and pulled him just that much closer. This time Connor was the one to press his lips to Murphy's, and a little more forcefully, and Murphy couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the turn things had taken.

Everything he'd ever dreamed about was finally coming true, and Murphy wasn't absolutely certain that he wasn't still asleep. But rather than fuss over whether or not he was in reality, Murphy decided to just enjoy the ride. He brought his arms up and around Connor's neck, cinching them tightly together to keep his twin in place, his fingers curling into Connor's hair. Murphy had always loved Connor's hair, how soft and fluffy it was, and how he could just roll out of bed with it still looking perfect. How many times had he fantasized about this exact moment, when they would kiss and he could finally run his fingers through Connor's hair in the passionate way that he wanted.

Connor was a more experienced kisser than Murphy, and Murphy gladly handed the reins over to him. Connor gripped the back of Murphy's neck, tilting his head up just slightly to give him better access to Murphy's mouth. He ran his tongue over his brother's bottom lip, asking for entry, and Murphy eagerly parted his lips to invite his twin's tongue inside. Almost instantly Connor's tongue was thrust against his own, twirling over and around it, and Murphy had enough sense to let his own tongue fight back for dominance. He could feel his lips curved up at the wonderful assault Connor was giving his tonsils, and he hitched one leg over Connor's hip.

Connor stiffened then, pulling his body back against the wall, effectively parting their mouths. Murphy knew he had crossed some kind of line with his brother, and so he, too, pushed himself back against the wall, giving Connor as much space as he could.

Connor's eyes were wide, staring into Murphy's with a dumbstruck expression on his face. He had been enjoying himself just then, willingly allowing his tongue to slide between his brother's lips and over his tongue. What's more, he probably would have kissed Murphy until the cows came home had Murphy not brought him back to reality by pulling that leg-over-the-hip thing. Why was that the thing that flashed warning sirens in his head? Because that felt overly sexual. But the French kissing didn't? All in all Connor was very, very confused.

Connor still liked girls, he knew that much, but there was something buried just under the surface of his sexuality, something he wasn't sure he quite wanted to identify. He didn't like guys, not in the least, but he did like Murphy. Maybe that was it; he was Murphy-sexual. Somehow that realization didn't bother him the way it should have; on the contrary, it brought a smile to his face.

Murphy took Connor's smile as a good sign, and decided now would be a good time to speak up. "Been wantin' to do that fer a while now, I must confess."

Connor chuckled at Murphy's lame attempt at a pun. "Seems like y'have. I have ta ask ye, though… if I hadn't pulled away, would ye really have… y'know?"

Murphy blushed, letting his eyes drop to the floor once more. "Aye." The word came out in a whisper, but Connor heard him just fine.

Murphy's answer nearly took the breath out of Connor's lungs. He'd never even dreamed of doing that with his twin, though now he wasn't sure he'd object to it if things were to play out the same way sometime in the future.

"Are ye mad at me, Conn?" Murphy murmured, his eyes glued to his shoes.

"Nah, m'not mad at ye. Not mad at anythin' really. I think that maybe… maybe we should try this kissing thin' again sometime."

Murphy's eyes snapped up to his brother's, his jaw dropping in shock. Had Connor just said the words he'd longed to hear for too many years? Did Connor love him in the same way?

"Really?" Was the only thing Murphy's quick-witted mind could think to say.

Connor rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, if ye want to, that is."

Murphy could have pounced on Connor right then, but somehow he managed to control himself. "Of course I want to."

And then he cupped Connor's cheeks in his hands, running his thumbs over the smooth skin, and gently pressed his lips to Connor's once more.

Murphy thought to himself I should have confessed this sooner.