[Of course, it's uncommon for a pureblood to answer their own door even when they're home all day. An unimpressed looking house elf opens the door, and it's clear he doesn't really need to be told what to do as he shuffles toward the stairs of the house. Bro will have to shuffle fast to catch up with this elderly speed demon.
Murdoc, on the other hand, is blissfully unaware of Bro's abrupt choice to bring in a new member of the family. Really, Murdoc is blissfully unaware of most things. He heard to vague sound of an apparition, but he's on the other side of the house admiring the view of the ocean from his study window. Sometimes he likes to think he knows when Bro is up to something, but something else has his undivided attention right now. Cake. A huge slice of it. It's been sitting beside him since he started writing this letter to his dear, old mother. Which is to say, the quill has been scribbling away while he's been reading. It continues to scribble even now as he eyes the slice, even as he snaps the book shut to give it closer inspection.
Fuck it, he tells himself. Nobody is here, nobody will see and he'll just jog it off later. With that comforting thought in mind, he reaches for the cake and gently inserts more than half of it in his mouth. God, it's so good. It tastes like sex and being rich. He can't even contain the borderline orgasmic noise as he moves in for more. He doesn't hear the door creak open and the quill continues to ramble on about his successes without so much as faltering.]
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Murdoc, on the other hand, is blissfully unaware of Bro's abrupt choice to bring in a new member of the family. Really, Murdoc is blissfully unaware of most things. He heard to vague sound of an apparition, but he's on the other side of the house admiring the view of the ocean from his study window. Sometimes he likes to think he knows when Bro is up to something, but something else has his undivided attention right now. Cake. A huge slice of it. It's been sitting beside him since he started writing this letter to his dear, old mother. Which is to say, the quill has been scribbling away while he's been reading. It continues to scribble even now as he eyes the slice, even as he snaps the book shut to give it closer inspection.
Fuck it, he tells himself. Nobody is here, nobody will see and he'll just jog it off later. With that comforting thought in mind, he reaches for the cake and gently inserts more than half of it in his mouth. God, it's so good. It tastes like sex and being rich. He can't even contain the borderline orgasmic noise as he moves in for more. He doesn't hear the door creak open and the quill continues to ramble on about his successes without so much as faltering.]