Banner by Agent Xpndble for summer_of_78

Written for the summer_of_78 livejournal fic exchange to Lacey McBain's request. Many thanks to Londonronnie for the beta and britpick.

---

For all that Cowley had been brusquely impatient as he waved them into his office, once seated he didn't seem to be in any actual hurry to get to the point. Mouth pursed, glasses dangling in one hand, Cowley simply sat there staring at them both.

Finally, he dropped the glasses on his desk and sighed. "Doyle, get me a drink. Pour yourselves one as well."

Bodie and Ray exchanged wary glances. They were used to the occasional glass after a successful op when Cowley was pleased with them. This, on the other hand, was a bit alarming.

Ray shrugged and walked over to the sideboard where the whisky bottle and glasses stood. He brought Cowley his whisky first and then picked up their drinks.

"Bad news, sir?" Bodie asked, accepting a glass from Ray.

Waiting until Ray was seated, Cowley said, "I'm about to give you a somewhat distasteful assignment. I am relying on your professionalism to see this through to a successful conclusion, gentlemen.

"Yesterday morning, a bomb was discovered under the car of a certain Government minister. The bomb was removed and no one was hurt. However, the minister has been receiving blackmail threats for several months. He has steadfastly refused to cooperate and his blackmailers have escalated their threats; hence the bomb. He's not the only one that has been approached by this group."

"What group is that, sir?"

"They call themselves the GRA, Gay Resistance Army, an extremist splinter group that separated from the GLF several years ago. The GRA are not content with the slowly changing political climate and are pushing for complete legal and social equality now. Their major weapon up until now has been the threat of blackmail."

Ray frowned. "Aren't they the ones that 'out' famous people?"

"Yes, and it's been an effective tool. Apparently, several well-known and wealthy men have paid substantial sums to avoid a public scandal."

"That's how they're bankrolling their operation," Bodie observed cynically.

Cowley nodded. "Up until recently it's been simple extortion, a matter for the police. Now they're escalating and, in fact, the outings appear to have been part of their plan all along. The minister was told that if he did not sponsor certain laws and vote as he was told, he would be outed. He refused and informed them that he was happily married with three children and not a homosexual. Their response was that they knew but who would the public believe?"

Ray whistled. "Clever. Make a few splashy announcements, establish your credentials and then you can tar anyone with that brush."

"That is what they're counting on. Unfortunately for them, their victim is not cooperating. The car bomb was their way of proving that they're serious. It's not the effect they were looking for, but CI5 is certainly taking them seriously now."

"Nasty," said Bodie. "Not quite what you expect from a bunch of poofs."

Cowley glared. "That's enough. I expect you to also take this seriously, Bodie." He put on his glasses and looked down at the file. "We've not been able to identify any members of the GRA, although sources say this man, Allen Hartford, is quite probably a member."

Bodie took the photo from Cowley. Hartford was a solidly-built, dark-haired man in his early thirties, who might have been handsome in a bland way, if not for the intent, sour look on his face. He passed the photo over to Ray.

Cowley continued. "He appears to have dropped out of sight. We've been unable to locate a fixed address, but he is known to be a regular at The Paradise."

"I know that place. It's a gay disco in Soho," Ray said. Bodie glanced over in surprise. "What? I had a friend who worked that beat. Used to tell me all sorts of stories."

Cowley nodded. "Then you're at least somewhat knowledgeable as to what's necessary to pass as homosexuals in that environment."

Both men stared at him in astonishment.

"Sir!" Bodie protested.

"Why us, sir?"

"I won't have any arguments. I'm sorry, but it is my decision. Your assignment is to stake out the club and bring Hartford in for questioning. You will do what is necessary to maintain your cover. Oh, for God's sake," Cowley snapped, as both Bodie and Doyle grimaced in disgust. "...you're not being asked to seduce anyone, simply to convey the impression of intimacy. I'm sure you can handle it."

Bodie muttered under his breath, "So long as that's all I have to handle."

Ray snorted in agreement and blinked innocently at Cowley's narrowed gaze.

"Och, finish your drinks and get out of here." Cowley pushed the file across the desk at them and Bodie reluctantly reached out to pick it up.

Once out of earshot of Cowley's office, Bodie began to vent. "Christ, Doyle. You ever get the feeling that our job keeps getting stranger and stranger? Poofs with bombs. What'll they come up with next? Grannies with grenades?"

Ray shrugged, then grinned maliciously. "Gives a whole new meaning to blow jobs, doesn't it?"

Both men sniggered.

"Hey, Ray."

As Ray looked over, Bodie fluttered his eyelashes like mad. "C'mon, darling. Give us a kiss."

Ray cackled. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm not that kind of girl."

Bodie's grin grew wicked. "Oh, but I think you are."

Ray took one look at Bodie advancing on him with hands making pincer movements and took off down the hall, laughing, with Bodie in hot pursuit. They slammed down the stairs, knocking an annoyed Murphy against the wall. Bodie threw a faint "Sorry, mate!" over his shoulder and kept going. Ray was a fast bugger when he set his mind to it.

He also had the keys and beat Bodie to the car, locking him out and making faces at him through the window while Bodie banged on the glass yelling, "Bastard, let me in!"

---

"Damn!" Bodie suddenly reared up from his comfortable slump on the passenger side and scowled. "I just remembered. I'm supposed to take Marla to the theatre tonight."

Ray shifted gears and signalled a left turn. He threw Bodie a half-amused, half-sympathetic look. "Tough luck. She's not going to like that."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"So which play were you going to see?"

"Sweeney Todd. It was bloody expensive too."

"I've heard good things about it. Still, a play about cannibalism. Bit gruesome for a date, I'd've thought."

"Ah, but Marla's a regular man-eater," Bodie leered happily, before remembering the cancellation of his plans. "Damn. I was really looking forward to being on her menu tonight." In an effort to distract himself from his sorrows, Bodie began listing Marla's many charms and talents. Eventually he noticed Ray's distracted manner and stopped. "What's wrong?"

"You ever done anything with a man?" Ray asked abruptly.

"Have you?"

"Nah," said Ray, wrinkling his nose. "Well, some kid's stuff. Once I was old enough for the girls, that was it. You ever?"

Bodie didn't answer immediately and Ray gave him a quick glance. "Something you want to tell me, mate?"

Bodie shrugged. "Just the occasional blow job in Africa, when I was desperate and there weren't any women."

"You've done blow jobs?" Ray looked both shocked and ever-so-slightly intrigued.

"No!" Bodie said, indignantly. "I paid somebody, Ray. Always somebody about who you knew would do it for a smile and some fags."

"What did it feel like? I mean, could you tell?"

"It felt like a blow job, Ray. You close your eyes and think of a beautiful girl same's you do with a wank." Bodie turned his head to leer at Ray. "Why you asking, sunshine? Curious?"

Ray took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at him. "No." He hesitated. "Well, sort of. I mean, we're going to be spending a lot of time round that sort of thing. They do that there, you know. In the disco. In the back rooms or the toilets. Somebody's bound to make a pass. How're we going to handle that? Turning them down isn't going to do our cover any good."

Sometimes Ray made it too easy. "No problem, sunshine. Anybody tries to molest you, you just point out your big, bad, butch boyfriend and tell 'em I'm the jealous type."

"Hey! How come you're the boyfriend then? You're always on about being the pretty one in this partnership. I think that makes me the jealous boyfriend."

Bodie blinked and pretended to consider that. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Ray. It's true I'm the looker, but I'm bigger and tougher than you, you delicate sod." Bodie deliberately gave Ray the once over and lingered on his crotch. "'Course they'll wonder what I see in your ugly mug, but they'll think it's your hidden assets that hooked me."

Ray gawped at him a moment, torn between outrage and amusement, before breaking into a wheezing fit of laughter that lasted almost to Bodie's flat, Bodie smiling smugly all the way.

Ray was silent though as he parked the car and then got out with Bodie. He met Bodie's eyes grimly. "I'm coming up. We're going to need to rehearse before tonight."

Oh. Bodie tensed up and nodded reluctantly. "Right."

He led the way in and they rode up in the lift, standing on opposite sides, staring at the floor until the doors opened, and they crossed the hall to Bodie's flat. Bodie unlocked his door and headed straight for his drink cabinet. "What'll you have?"

Ray shook his head. "Nothing for me. Not on top of Cowley's whisky. We'll be drinking at the disco."

Bodie shrugged and reached for the whisky. "Well, I'm going to need to be a bit more relaxed before I'm feeling 'friendly' enough for this." Bodie poured a couple of fingers worth of whisky and quickly gulped half of it down. He sighed, threw himself down on the sofa, and took another sip.

Ray sat next to him. "I'm beginning to think you don't fancy me, Bodie love," he snivelled.

Bodie grinned ruefully and followed Ray's lead. "Well, you're not exactly a page three girl, are you?"

"You men are all alike. It's all tits and arse with you," Ray accused dramatically, one hand clutched to his 'bosom'.

"Shame about the tits, but you do have a nice arse." Bodie held his breath gleefully and waited as Ray stuttered to a halt, blinking horrified at Bodie. The expression on his face! Bodie sniggered.

Ray grinned and punched him in the shoulder. "For a moment there I thought you'd been nursing a secret crush all these years. I was trying to think how to let you down easy."

"You're a prince, Doyle, not wanting to break a fella's heart like that." Bodie lifted his arm to make room for Ray. Ray carefully moved closer and Bodie settled his arm along Ray's shoulders. They sat there stiffly until Ray gave an impatient shake of his head and relaxed bonelessly against Bodie's side.

"S'not too bad," Bodie said cautiously. "We can stand about like this and fend off the admiring hordes."

"You ever been in one of those places?" Ray asked. "Won't be enough. It'll be a meat market with blokes dancing, groping, snogging. Not to mention acts of public lewdness going on in all the darker corners. If all we're doing is chastely hugging each other, we'll stand out like sore thumbs. Or tourists."

Bodie looked sour. "Hoorah for bloody tourism. Think we'll need a native guide?"

"That's not our assignment. Cowley wants us looking like natives, remember?"

"Bloody Cowley."

"Hate to say it, but he's probably right. No telling how long before Hartford shows up. We might be stuck there every night for weeks and we'd better look like we're there for the same reason everyone else is."

"Here's hoping Hartford's a randy bugger who needs it every night." Bodie drained his glass and leaned forward to set it on the table. When he leaned back, Ray's arm was there behind him, snaking round his waist. Bodie coughed in surprise. Ray's other arm draped itself over his stomach as Ray leaned his head against Bodie's shoulder. Bodie blinked down in disbelief at the sight of Raymond Doyle cuddling. "Ray?"

Ray's head came up and his glare was reassuringly non-loverlike. "C'mon, Bodie. Don't make me do all the work." Bodie found his free arm picked up and briskly placed round Ray, before his partner's head was tucked back against Bodie's neck. "If we can't even do this, we'll never pull it off. You can explain to Cowley that your sense of masculinity was more important than the assignment. You just warn me first so I can get out of the blast radius."

Not fair, thought Bodie indignantly. For all Ray's pretence of nonchalance, the subtle tension in his body meant he wasn't any more comfortable with this than Bodie was. Cowley was asking a hell of a lot and Ray had no right to imply Bodie was shirking, the pushy bastard. In fact -- Bodie smiled slowly -- two could play at that game.

He gripped a handful of Ray's curls. "Ray?"

"Yeah?"

Ray's breath tickled the skin along Bodie's neck and he suppressed a shiver. He pulled Ray's head back and grinned down at him. "Pucker up, petal, and think of England."

The sudden goggle-eyed alarm as Ray unsuccessfully tried to fend him off was its own sweet reward.

---

The intercom buzzed and Bodie pushed the button. A minute later, Ray let himself in and stopped short at the sight of Bodie.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Ray demanded, hands on hips, scornful eyes looking Bodie up and down.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Bodie replied calmly, smoothing a wrinkle from the black turtleneck. "I've been told I look quite nice in this."

"A black turtleneck in June? You look like a terrified virgin covering herself up." Ray shook his head in disgust. "At least your trousers are tight."

"It's not like anyone's going to notice what I'm wearing next to your blinding magnificence," Bodie said, looking down his nose at Ray's painted-on jeans and shiny silver and green disco shirt. He was secretly amused that Ray had the shirt unbuttoned to show off most of his hairy little chest.

Ray threw his hands up. "Forget it. Wear what you like. Just don't fool yourself they won't be looking, Bodie."

"Of course, they'll be looking. A handsome fella like me?"

"It's not your face they'll be looking at, you know."

"Ah, but I'm handsome there too."

Ray grinned. "You're incorrigible, mate. C'mon then. Let's go parade your handsome self in front of the hungry lions."

"Now you've made my stomach go all queasy," Bodie complained, following Ray out the door.

---

It was still early enough for the sun to be out as they parked the car and walked two streets over to the club. From the outside, the Paradise looked much the same as any other club in the area. It wasn't until they moved past the doorman and into the darker, strobe-lit interior that they realised the inside wasn't much different either. Bodie and Ray had been to hundreds of identical places on their dates. It was oddly anti-climactic.

The preponderance of men was different. Not that there weren't some women there as well, but their attentions were focussed on their female companions. The men, however, turned to watch Bodie and Ray walk past. Bodie thought of Ray's comment earlier about "hungry lions" and firmly squelched an uneasy grin. He hurried after Ray who was marching straight up to the bar.

They each took a stool and waited for the barman to notice them. Looking around, Bodie caught the eye of the man sitting next to him. The man was glaring and, as Bodie watched, he picked up his drink and slid off his stool to disappear into the crowd. Bodie lifted an eyebrow and nudged Ray.

"My neighbour just gave me the evil eye and departed."

Ray was looking around as well. "I noticed. The natives aren't very friendly."

"D'you think this is normal or is it us?"

Ray shrugged and didn't answer as the barman had noticed them. He took their order unsmilingly and came back with the drinks in much the same way.

"You don't run a very welcoming establishment," Bodie said, reaching for his.

The barman gave him a blank look. "Lots of welcome for the right sort."

"And we're not the right sort?" Ray said curiously, tilting his head.

"Let's just say that I'd appreciate it if you fellas drank up and moved on."

Bodie and Ray exchanged raised eyebrows.

Another man seated a few stools down from Ray spoke up. He was a slightly pudgy older man with a taste for ruffles and it might have been dark in here but Bodie was pretty sure the man was wearing eyeliner. "What he means is that the Paradise has had some back luck. Couple of months ago there was a murder here and ever since then we've had reporters and coppers coming in here. The reporters want dirt which makes a lot of us nervous and the coppers want drugs which makes us even more nervous. The thing is they always make the mistake of trying to pass as gay." The man threw a cynically assessing eye at Bodie and Ray. "A blind man can see you boys are straight. So you're not here looking for love. You don't look like reporters to me, so that makes you coppers. This is our place and we don't want you here."

Damn. "What makes you think we're straight?" Bodie asked, innocently.

The man waved a flamboyantly dismissive hand. "Oh, please. I can spot it a mile away."

Ray shot Bodie a sharp glance that said, clear as day, follow my lead, then sighed and rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "Well, the thing is..." He stopped and looked expectantly at the man until he offered up his name. "See, Harold, the thing is you're half right. Up until three months ago, you'd've been 100 percent right. Bodie and me, we've been mates for years. I was his best man when he got married. I was there when the bitch dumped him. Broken up about it, he was and I didn't like him hurting... One thing led to another and suddenly we're more than friends. Much more."

What a load of codswallops. Worse than a bloody soap opera, Bodie thought. He'll never buy it. Still, he moved in closer, sliding his arm round Ray's waist, and regarded the man with a tight smile. "Think of us as late bloomers."

Eyeliner or not, Harold's eyes were shrewd as he looked them both over. "You're trying to tell me that you suddenly turned gay? At your age?" he scoffed. "I don't believe it!"

"Who the hell cares what you believe? We don't need your belief or your permission. All me and my friend are looking for is a place where we can have a drink and maybe a dance without somebody looking at us funny. So do us a favour and bloody get lost."

"Prove it," Harold said suddenly. "Kiss him."

"Why the hell should I?"

"Oh, come on, Bodie. What's the harm? I like this place. Good dance music."

"Don't like being a performing monkey," Bodie muttered sullenly.

"You saying you don't want to kiss me?" Ray teased, his eyes shining with what Bodie knew was laughter but hoped read something like adoration to someone who didn't know him.

"Would I say that?" Bodie asked with a smile, ignoring his own nervousness as he leaned forward. Ray'd been right to have them practise earlier or this would have been embarrassingly awkward. Think of persuading a beautiful bird into bed, he told himself firmly, as Ray's eyes shut and their mouths met. The jolt of rubbing up against a scratchy chin was no longer a shock; the softness of lips not much different. He brought one hand up to clasp the back of Ray's neck as he went on auto-pilot and simply enjoyed the familiar exploration of a warm, responsive mouth. When the kiss ended, Bodie rested his forehead against Ray's and smiled, his thumb stroking gentle circles on Ray's skin. Ray sighed softly and Bodie silently congratulated himself on managing to pull it off.

"Oh!"

Right. They had an audience. Bodie opened his eyes and straightened up. Ray was already facing Harold, sharp eyes assessing his response.

"Oh!" Harold had one hand clapped over his mouth as he gazed at them in delight. "Oh, my God, you're in love. That's so sweet. Charlie!" he called out to the barman. "Bring these dear, dear boys another round."

Harold leaned towards them, beaming. "So tell me. When did you know..."

---

Cowley himself could take lessons in interrogation from the nosy old biddy, Bodie thought as his eyes glazed over from boredom. Harold was relentless, going after every juicy detail of their 'romance'. Ray was handling it like a pro, letting Harold drag it out one bit at a time, but even he was beginning to crack. Thank God Bodie's part simply required him to plaster himself against Ray's back and occasionally maul him like the love-sick idiots Ray was making them out to be.

Finally he couldn't take any more and, when the music changed, he took the escape it offered. "Listen, Ray, they're playing our song."

Ray didn't fail him, instantly springing to his feet. "You sentimental devil, you. Excuse us, Harold."

Harold shooed them off cheerfully. "Go, go. Never mind about me. Have fun, boys."

Bodie cast one glowering look back before they reached the dance floor. Harold was already latched on to someone else, talking up a storm.

He leaned in close to shout into Ray's ear as they squirmed their way through the dancers toward an advantageous position. "Christ, I don't believe your nerve. Where do you come up with that kind of tripe?"

"You're just jealous," Ray said breezily, coming to a halt. "That was a brilliant bit of improvisation. How about you take the entrance and I'll watch the crowd."

Bodie shifted slightly to get a clearer line of sight and began dancing. "Brilliant? Barbara Bloody Cartland couldn't write a better story. Thought I was going to vomit a time or two."

"Relax, Bodie. Harold bought it and he'll spread it about that if we don't look and act right, it's because we're brand new to the scene. We've got our cover story."

"Yeah," Bodie agreed glumly. "Romeo and Jules, that's us."

Ray shook his head sadly. "You are thick tonight. Look, we're a couple, right?" When Bodie nodded, Ray added, "So, we're a faithful couple."

"Oh? Ohhh... Right." Bodie assured him virtuously, "I'd never cheat on you, love. You're a vicious sod and you'd cut me goolies off."

Ray bared his teeth in a perfectly vicious snarl. "And don't you forget it, love."

---

Bodie had been on a lot of obbos in his time and he had to admit that beer and dancing made the time pass faster than stale coffee and well-thumbed girlie magazines. But even his stamina was tested by the constant loud, driving rhythm of the disco music. Apparently the slow songs that allowed you to pull your partner close and cop a feel without protests weren't popular in gay clubs. Considering all the dancers enthusiastically grinding at high speed into each other, Bodie could see their point but he was sweating buckets and when, at long last, a love ballad did show up, he couldn't be bothered to feel anything but relief as Ray moved in, with a warning frown, and put his arms round Bodie's waist.

Shuffling from foot to foot required a lot less concentration and Bodie was able to keep an eye on the entrance and take a closer look at the crowd. Ray was right about what he was wearing and tomorrow he'd look through his wardrobe for something tighter and more colourful. Don't forget cooler, he thought, as he stoically ignored the blast of heat Ray was putting out. Too fiery for his own good, Ray was.

Bodie unexpectedly met the eyes of a man dancing nearby. The man made an obscene gesture with his mouth and winked. Bodie blinked and looked away, only to catch another man staring hard at him. A quick look round made him realise that he and Ray were receiving a lot of attention.

"Raaaaay," Bodie murmured in Ray's ear.

"Hmm?"

"Ray, they're staring. At us."

Ray pulled his bony chin off Bodie's shoulder and looked round. "Yeah, you're right."

"Raaaaay," Bodie repeated. "Why are they staring at us?"

Ray didn't answer as he continued surveying the crowd with narrowed eyes. Then comprehension filled his face and he grinned. "Harold's been busy. Look over there."

Bodie turned and saw the older man talking expansively with a couple of men at the bar. Suddenly, Harold saw them looking and waved cheerfully at them, his expression fatuous. The men with him eyed Bodie and Ray with a speculative interest that made Bodie stiffen and clutch Ray tighter.

"Geroff, Bodie," Ray hissed in protest. "I can't breathe."

"Sorry." Bodie loosened his grip. "You reckon they're all thinking we're romantic like Harold is?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Sure, Bodie. Romantic. That's it."

An hour later, Bodie was ready to murder someone. His right hand gripped his beer glass like a weapon, and his left was tucked round Ray holding him like a shield. He pressed his backside harder against the tiny space of wall they'd laid claim to and muttered grimly into Ray's curls, "The next fella that pinches my arse is getting his teeth smashed in."

Ray shook with silent laughter. "Think of it as a compliment, Bodie. Proves you're as irresistible as you think you are."

"Ha ha. Complimentary black and blue marks, you mean. Sitting down tomorrow is going to be a right pain in my arse."

Ray let out a sharp bark of amusement in his ear that made Bodie wince. "Then they'll know I took you home and rode you hard, lover."

That possible interpretation made Bodie's jaw drop, until his sense of humour kicked in. He slid his hand down to grip Ray's posterior and squeezed. "Oh, I think it'll be the other way round, darling."

Ray jerked and knocked Bodie's hand off. He'd received just as many unwanted attentions as Bodie had. "Sadistic bastard."

"But you love me anyway."

"Can't think why," Ray grumbled.

---

Bodie gingerly eased into the seat next to Ray and flung an arm round his shoulders, still seesawing between mild shock, amusement and annoyance. "Whatever you do, my son, do not go into the toilet. I barely escaped with me virtue intact. They'd've eaten you alive."

Ray regarded Bodie with indulgence. "What are you on about now?"

"Had to take a piss and the room was full of blokes hanging about waiting for me to whip it out. Not to mention the moaning and banging going on in the stalls. I thought I'd play it cool -- not like I haven't spent half my life pissing in company -- so I'm standing there, cock in hand, and I can't let go. Got lots of offers to 'help' though." Bodie grinned proudly, as Ray cracked up. "I finally had to zip up and walk out. Slipped out the back into the alley. There was somebody getting buggered there as well, but at least it was dark and I was frantic by that time."

Ray shook his head delightedly. "Only you, Bodie. How about a distraction from your traumatic experience? Go on and feast your eyes on that." Ray nodded toward the cluster of tables to his right.

Bodie peered through the dimness and broke into a wide smile as he spotted the two pretty women engaged in a public display of affection. "Hello. Very nice. I think I'll go over and introduce myself."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're not their type."

"So what?" Bodie rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "Maybe they're swingers who'd appreciate a little spicing up in their love life. I bathe frequently and I'm a perfect gentleman in bed. Ladies first is my motto."

"Ah," Ray nodded wisely. "That explains your reputation. You don't know many Ladies, do you?"

Bodie gasped in mock-outrage. "I'm telling Marla you said that."

"You wouldn't!" Ray twitched slightly. Marla had a sharp tongue and the two of them hadn't hit it off. "Anyway, you can't." He made a scissoring motion with what Bodie thought was entirely too much relish. "Goolies, remember? Snip snip."

"You're not serious!"

"You break our cover and you'll see how serious I am. Tell you what," he added generously. "You can look at the laddies all you like."

"I keep forgetting how cruel you are, Doyle." Bodie folded his arms and settled back for a good sulk. He gave the girls one last longing glance and returned to studying the crowd, searching for the elusive Hartford.

---

When the club closed, Bodie and Ray joined the noisy crowd drifting out onto the street. They turned left and walked down the dark streets towards Ray's car. The fresh air felt wonderful after the smoky confines of the club, but it also made the last few hours seem unreal and Bodie felt oddly unsettled. The easy, joking, physical camaraderie during the job was gone, leaving awkwardness in its place. Ray seemed to feel it too, ever so casually walking a full arms length apart.

They reached the car and Ray unlocked his side, sliding in and reaching over to unlock Bodie's door. They rode in silence back to Bodie's place.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow about arrangements," Ray said briskly, before taking off.

Bodie stood in front of his building entrance, vacillating. Despite the late hour, he wasn't really ready to retire for the night. All the sexual activity he'd seen at the club had his body in a continual state of low-level arousal and Bodie felt the need for physical release.

Right. Decision made, Bodie turned towards the car park. What he needed was a warm, willing bird to make everything right again. It might take a little persuading at this late hour, but he was pretty certain he could talk Marla into letting him in.

---

Bodie soaped himself briskly and rinsed off. He still had to shave and get dressed before Ray picked him up in half an hour. His cock twitched insistently, recognising its turn was next.

Bodie cast a rueful glance down at his thickening organ. "Demanding bugger, aren't you?" Still, if he didn't...

Damn Marla for a suspicious harpy. She'd jumped to the completely erroneous conclusion that Bodie, arriving amorous and smelling like booze and cigarettes, had taken another girl to the play and that she hadn't come across, so Bodie was trying his luck with second best. She'd started screeching like a fishwife and Bodie's best persuasive attempts had failed to get her to give Ray a call to verify that he'd been working.

"I should believe him? Ha! You two would lie for each other at the drop of a hat. Get out before I call the police!"

And that was that. The real problem was that, in the ordinary way of things, Marla would have been good for another month and Bodie hadn't lined up any potentials yet. Not having evenings free meant he couldn't ask any girls out. Even old girlfriends that might have been willing to see him again weren't interested in lunch dates. Throw in spending every evening watching other blokes get their end away, never mind that their partners weren't to his taste, and Bodie was feeling perpetually randy. Even with a quick wank first thing when he got through the door after the end of his shift, taking his time and doing it proper in the morning and then again just before his shift started, he was still finding his trousers uncomfortably tight half the time. It was like being a bloody teenager again.

The feeling of pleasure was getting more demanding. Bodie braced himself with his left hand against the tiles and sped up the smooth, soap-slick pull of his fist. Ah...

The thing was that watching bodies dance too close in the strobe-lit dark, you could forget it was all men and just see the erotic tableau, the loud music that got pulses jumping, the twisting to the beat, the driving of hips, glimpses of lust-filled faces, the breaking away to head for pseudo-privacy. And Ray didn't help one bit, teasing him under the necessity of maintaining cover, green eyes challenging him, 'Can you handle this, Bodie? What about this? That one made you jump, mate.' Bloody annoying, little...

Oh Christ, yeah! Bodie groaned happily as his orgasm hit, and he watched his come spray the tiles and slide slowly down to wash away. He squeezed his cock a few times to eke out the last bits of pleasure and then reached for the soap to wash his crotch.

Damn Hartford. What kind of ice-cold, sexless eunuch was he, anyway? Not a single sighting in eight days. Cowley was still hot for him though, especially since the discovery that the GRA had another highly-placed government official on the hook, so there was no hope of this ending until Hartford was in the Cow's greedy hands.

Better hurry up, old son, Bodie thought. Ray'll be here soon.

---

"Here we go. Showtime!" Bodie muttered and rolled his eyes, as Ray moved in closer and laid a possessive hand firmly on the small of his back.

Exchanging friendly nods with the doorman, they moved through the doors and into the familiar darkened din of the Paradise. Bodie blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the gloom and looked around. Still early for a Saturday night and the club wasn't nearly as full as it would get later on.

He almost bumped into a slim, dark-haired man, who turned around with a frown, then broke into a broad smile. "Bodie!" His smile dimmed slightly as he noticed Ray. "Ray. Good to see you. How are you?"

The question was directed at Bodie, who smiled at his admirer. "I'm fine. You? Where's Dave?"

"Oh, Dave couldn't make it tonight. Sick friend." Ted brightened. "Hey, how about a dance later on?"

Bodie bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Right on cue, Ray stepped forward, slinging an arm around Bodie's shoulder. "Well, Ted," he said sharply. "Seeing as how Dave may not be here, but I am, that would be a no."

Bodie let Ray pull him away, but amused himself by looking back over his shoulder at the crestfallen suitor and mouthing, 'Sorry. Jealous git.'

"I saw that," Ray said. "Just saving your arse, mate. He's got hands like an octopus. I've seen him in action."

"My hero," Bodie declared in heartfelt tones.

Ray's mouth quirked. "Someone's got to watch your back if you're gonna be so friendly the poor sods think they've got half a chance with you."

"'s not my fault I'm naturally friendly," Bodie protested virtuously. "I always tell 'em, 'my heart belongs to Ray'."

"And I'm sure that'd work too, if your heart was what they were after."

"Shallow blokes, the lot of 'em," Bodie agreed sadly and snickered at Ray's double take and muttered, "Look who's talking."

Skirting the dance floor, they reached the part of the seating area that they'd determined the first night as having the best overall view of the club and entrance. Ray chose one of the empty tables and pulled out a chair with an air of overdone solicitousness that made Bodie long to smack him. Manfully restraining the urge, he took the seat and waited until Ray sat down to say, "I'll have a lager."

Ray threw him a dirty look. "Pretty sure it's your turn."

Bodie just smiled. "Pretty sure it's not."

When it was clear that Bodie wasn't budging, Ray grudgingly stood and headed over to the bar. Bodie watched him fondly as he crossed the dance floor, gracefully dodging dancers and greeting people they'd met during the past week. Ray and his cheese-paring ways. You'd think he was spending his own money instead of CI5's.

Despite Bodie's best efforts, Ray had somehow managed to pull off the dominant role, bristling like a sheepdog with a single prized sheep to guard against a pack of ravening wolves. In retaliation, Bodie began imitating some of his more demanding dates and cheerfully and unscrupulously ordered Ray about. Ray knew what he was doing but there wasn't much he could do beyond a quick kick under the table and then it was all "Yes, dear" and "Whatever you say, love" to keep up the cover. Ray might have won the first battle, but Bodie rather thought he might be winning the war. Either way, he was enjoying it immensely.

A few minutes later, Bodie cursed quietly as he spotted Ray making his way back with Harold in tow. Ray encouraged the little man because he was a good source of information about the club, but Bodie called it gossip and pretty useless stuff at that. Harold did know Hartford vaguely but hadn't seen him in weeks. Involving Harold was a not very subtle yet effective move on Ray's part.

Gearing himself up for a mind-numbing monologue on who was sleeping with whom and cheating on so-and-so with who-the-hell-cares, Bodie sat up and called out cheerfully, "You joining us, Harold? Excellent!"

He casually kicked a chair out for Harold and lifted his face to accept a quick kiss from Ray as he put Bodie's lager down in front of him. Once Ray was seated, Bodie slid closer to rest his arm along the back of Ray's chair and began toying with Ray's hair. "How've you been, Harold?"

"I've had a dreadful couple of days, but I'm much better now that I'm here," Harold replied, then added flirtatiously, "May I say, darling Bodie, you're looking lovely tonight."

Bodie turned to Ray and repeated smugly. "I'm looking lovely, I am."

Ray's sideways glance held a faintly malevolent confidence that alerted Bodie to approaching danger. "Yeah, well, I've been meaning to ask your advice, Harold. I want to get Bodie out of those boring rags he wears and into something a bit more stylish. I know you'll know just the thing."

Oh, you cunning, evil bastard, Bodie thought. His grip tightened around the handful of curls he'd been combing his fingers through, then loosened. No, he wasn't giving up just yet.

Harold lit up. "Oh my, yes, with that colouring and your exquisite blue eyes, you really ought to be wearing something more dramatic. I'd adore dressing you properly." Seeing Bodie's thunderstruck face, he hastily added, "Not that you don't look wonderful as you are. With your face, one hardly notices your clothes."

What was wrong with his clothes? "I suppose," Bodie frowned. "You want me to tart myself up like Ray here."

"You could do worse," Harold said. "Ray definitely does the best he can with what he has."

Bodie watched, speechless with delight, as it dawned on Ray that he hadn't exactly been paid a compliment.

Harold, on the other hand, eyed Ray's sudden glower with uncertainty and rushed to reassure him. "What I mean to say is that you have such a vibrant personality and your style reflects that."

Just in case Ray missed the full import, Bodie explained gleefully, "I'm lovely and you have personality." He beamed at Harold. "You've got impeccable taste, mate. Let's hear your fashion advice then."

Five minutes later, Bodie's momentary change of heart towards Harold had completely dissipated, blown away by a verbal explosion of designers, styles, fabrics and colours. He smiled and nodded whenever Harold stopped expectantly and otherwise kept a listless eye out for Hartford.

When Ray politely smothered a yawn for the second time, Bodie decided they'd suffered enough. Leaving off the hair tousling, his hand moved down to scratch lightly against the back of Ray's neck. Ray stiffened, nostrils flaring.

Sensitive, are we? thought Bodie complacently, knowing full well after a week's horseplay the effect that particular touch had on Ray.

Ray turned his head slowly to meet Bodie's bland smile. His eyes narrowing, Ray deliberately put his hand on Bodie's knee and caressed.

Bodie's smile broadened, became taunting. Ray'd tried that tactic before and lost his nerve each time. Bodie let his thigh loll open, pressing against Ray's leg. Ray's eyes widened, then narrowed again. He took Bodie's dare and slid his hand over to the inner thigh and began moving slowly upwards, fingers drawing teasing circles that had Bodie shifting in his seat. Desperate to distract Ray, Bodie redirected his attack and began tracing the inner whorls of the closest ear.

That's done it, Bodie congratulated himself as Ray drew in a shaky breath. Ray would back off now and Bodie would score another win. But instead, Ray's jaw jutted forward aggressively and, before Bodie could stop him, his hand swooped up to cup Bodie's groin.

Both men froze, staring at each other, and in that moment, Bodie's cock throbbed so hard that even Ray could feel it through the material, judging from his widening eyes. Bodie shut his, cursing silently. When had he gotten so hard? Worse luck that Ray picked that time to find his nerve. His cock throbbed again, insistent, and Bodie conceded, hand abandoning Ray's ear to drop lightning fast to clutch and lift Ray's hand away.

"Not in public, love," he murmured between clenched teeth, pantomiming a kiss against the palm of the hand he held in a white-knuckled grip.

"Don't mind me, boys."

Flushing, they turned to face a brightly smiling Harold, chin propped in both hands. "You're not listening to a single word," he said, not in the least put out by their inattention. "So I'll just sit here quiet as a mouse and not disturb you while you go about your business."

Bodie shot a disconcerted look at Ray, who seemed as flummoxed as him.

"It's sweet that you're still so shy about it, but you needn't be," Harold assured them gently. "Everyone understands here. No? What a shame." Obviously taking pity on their discomfort, he turned to watch the dancers.

Bodie realised he was still holding Ray's hand and abruptly let go. Ray scrubbed his hand against his thigh. There was an awkward silence and both men applied themselves to their drinks. Suddenly, Harold straightened up and laughed.

"I see the Hoover's made his choice. Lucky sod." Harold's tone was both salacious and envious. "See that man over there?" Without any real interest, they turned their head in the direction that Harold was pointing. "The tall, slender fellow chatting up the muscle boy, whose boyfriend doesn't look happy? In a minute, the Hoover will head back and muscle boy will follow. After a bit, they'll come back. Muscle boy will hardly be able to stagger back to his boyfriend, who may or may not still be here, and the Hoover will never look at him again. He only does somebody once, no matter how much they pant after him. Comes every Saturday and ends up picking three to four men a night."

"Why's he called 'the Hoover'?" Bodie asked.

"His reputation is that he gives the best blow job in London. I expect it's true," Harold said wistfully. "Not that I'll ever know. He prefers the younger, more athletic type. You or Ray might catch his eye though." He leaned forward, eyes bright and malicious with the joy of spreading gossip. "I've heard that he gets off on just the blow jobs. Never even touches himself, but comes anyway. Bit of a time saver."

"Really?" Ray watched the two men moving through the crowd, the Hoover looking almost bored and the man following him, grinning and stumbling over himself in excitement. "That's weird, innit?"

"Good luck if he tries anything," said Bodie complacently. "Seeing as we're faithful as an old married couple."

He turned to Ray, expecting agreement but Ray was staring after the Hoover with a frown, the hand that had touched Bodie before steadily rubbing up and down against his trouser leg. Bodie stood abruptly.

"Think I'll take a walk around, see who's here."

As he moved off to do his sweep, Bodie felt restless and out of sorts. After a moment's thought, he shrugged. Not every day your partner groped your crown jewels. That'd put anybody off. He concentrated on the faces he passed. The Paradise was filling up and there was always a chance Hartford would finally show up, although he wasn't holding his breath.

---

"It's so hot in here tonight," Darcy complained, patting at her neck and cleavage with a dainty handkerchief. Bodie and Tess both fell silent for a moment as they appreciated the view.

"They're not maintaining their air conditioners," Tess said contemptuously. "If you don't take proper care of equipment it'll fail when you need it. Didn't expect it to be this hot in June and tried putting the repair work off. Serves 'em right."

Tess repaired air conditioners for a living. Bodie imagined her in a workman's overall with her hair tied up and a smudge of dirt on her cheek and thought the image was adorable. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut though. Tess would thump him.

To Bodie's infinite regret, Darcy and Tess had turned out to not have an experimental bone in their bodies. Both were wild about each other and nothing Bodie could say evoked the faintest curiosity about a threesome, or foursome, as Bodie would have generously included Ray in the festivities. Despite that, they were friendly, jolly company and Bodie liked them. The men had quickly fallen into the habit of buying a round for the girls when they ran into each other.

"Do say you'll be able to make it," Tess coaxed, returning to the previous topic of conversation. "We'll have such fun."

"I'll have to check with Ray," Bodie said. "We're in between jobs right now, but there's no telling if something will come up suddenly and then we'd have to miss your dinner party."

Both girls nodded in understanding. They'd easily accepted the explanation of 'security work' when exchanging personal information, without asking for more details.

"When you ask Ray," said Darcy. "Please tell him how much we'd like you both to come."

"Tell him yourself." Bodie smiled as Ray appeared out of the crowd and came over to lean one bony hip against Bodie's shoulder. Ray shook his head and Bodie knew he'd come up empty on his sweep.

The girls greeted Ray enthusiastically and began describing their plans. Ray stood there, snapping his fingers to the music as he listened and then said regretfully, "Sounds wonderful but we'll have to let you know later if we can make it." He added, "I hope you don't mind if I steal Bodie away. I'm wanting a dance with my boyfriend."

Something was up. Ray was acting twitchy, practically vibrating with excitement. Bodie took the offered hand and let Ray pull him up. He turned to the girls and winked. "We'll see you later once he's had his wicked way with me."

Once they were away from the table, he moved closer to murmur, "What's up?"

Ray leaned towards him. "It's getting too crowded. A lot more than last Saturday. I don't think we should take turns anymore. Too easy to miss Hartford."

Bodie assessed the noisy, continually moving crowd. "Yeah. Okay, we'll both do sweeps. I'll ask occasionally if anyone's seen you. You do the same and we'll keep missing each other."

He began to move off, only to be brought to a halt by Ray's grab at his arm. "What?"

"We should dance first. We told the girls that's what we were doing. Look suspicious if we split up immediately."

Bodie eyed the crowded dance floor dubiously. "I don't know, Ray. It'll be hard to see anything in that scrum and it's getting hot in here."

"C'mon, Bodie," Ray coaxed. "There's a thin spot over towards the entrance and I was saving it for us."

Ray's hand slid down Bodie's arm until they were holding hands and then Ray was laughing and tugging him through the dancers. Reluctantly, Bodie let himself be pulled along. They ducked and twisted to avoid collisions until they reached the slightly less crowded spot Ray was searching for.

This is a bad idea, Bodie thought uneasily. Ray was up to something, twitchy as a cat seeing a bird outside the window. Bodie thought of the earlier incident, felt the ghostly sensation of a palm pressing down on his cock, and grew wary.

Bodie knew he was a decent enough dancer, but he was nowhere near as good as Ray. Ray moved like a man delighting in his body, snaky hips grinding out the beat, arms flailing about in a hypnotic display, almost but never quite bumping into the other dancers.

Wish he'd stop grinning at me like that. Bodie wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Christ, it's getting hot.

Ray's smile widened. He brought his hands down to the first fastened button halfway down his chest and undid it. Bodie blinked and Ray unbuttoned the next one.

A bloody striptease, Ray? Bodie thought, contemptuously amused. I've seen your scrawny chest before, sunshine. Didn't do a thing for me.

Buttons undone, Ray tugged the shirt out of his jeans and shrugged it off his shoulders, letting the shirt slide down his arms while not missing a beat. He wasn't bad at that, Bodie admitted grudgingly. If I were a bird, I'd be hooked. Or... He noticed quite a bit of appreciative scrutiny from their neighbours. ...if I were queer, yeah, you'd do. Bodie glared at the overly interested. That was his partner they were gawking at.

Ray was looking at him with half-lidded eyes, a curiously triumphant glint shining in them. His arms were at his back, stuffing the top of his shirt in his waistband and leaving it hanging loose behind him. The motions made his pectoral muscles twitch and bunch and that was oddly fascinating.

In fact, Bodie was finding that Ray Doyle in motion, damp curls swinging with each toss of his head, naked torso slick and shiny with sweat, strobe lights lending an artificial intensity and glamour, was an altogether different creature from an oblivious Ray towelling dry in the locker room. This Ray was hard to ignore, compelling even.

He'd barely digested that unwelcome bit of knowledge when Ray made his move. Abruptly dropping his exuberant exhibitionistic performance, Ray's dance became synchronous with Bodie's, matching his sway and rhythm. A half step forward, and Ray's leg was pressing between Bodie's thighs. Bodie jerked and grabbed Ray's waist to balance himself, his hands suddenly sliding on hot, sweaty, writhing skin. For a few moments his instinctive awareness of Ray that had grown over years of partnership kicked in and he moved with and against Ray, revelling in the friction of cock and hip, following the driving beat to completion.

No! Bodie gritted his teeth, trying to tough it out. He wasn't going to come in his trousers, he wasn't... Oh Christ, he was.

He flung himself back just in time. Ray stumbled and cried out in protest. Both men stood there, panting hard as they stared at each other silently. Ray began to frown as he took in Bodie's defensive stance.

Bodie threw up his hands. "I give up, Ray. You win." He turned and walked away.

Of course, the bastard wouldn't just let him go. Bodie found himself caught and heaved around to face an angry, confused Ray Doyle.

"I win, Bodie? Just what did I win?"

Bodie's smile was cold. "You've pushed the stakes up higher than I'm willing to go, sunshine. You backed me down. Congratulations."

The shock on Ray's face would have been funny if Bodie hadn't been so pissed off about being played like that. The shock quickly changed back into anger.

"Fuck you, Bodie!" Ray seethed, and turned to stalk off through the crowd, grabbing at his shirt and furiously stabbing his arms into the sleeves as he went.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Bodie sneered after him. Ignoring the people around him, he quickly rearranged himself to ease his painfully hard cock, and went off to do his job. Fuck Ray Doyle. Fuck the Cow for this stinking assignment. Fuck Hartford for dragging this out for bloody fucking forever.

---

Twenty minutes later Bodie had cooled down and was feeling a bit embarrassed about his reaction. So Ray played their little game better than him. Bodie didn't like the idea of being a bad loser, but the whole assignment was just throwing him off his stride. At least, his hard-on had gone away and, head clear once more, he thought he might even apologise to Ray on his next pass. That is, if His Majesty was through ignoring him.

Harold came bustling up to him, wringing his hands. "Bodie! Oh, Bodie."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do. I have a strict policy of not getting mixed up in other people's affairs. They never appreciate it but... You boys are so darling together. I'd be just devastated if anything happened. Oh dear..."

"Damn it! Get to the point."

Harold gave him an oddly pitying look and said firmly, "You should go to Ray. Right now."

Bodie's eyes widened. Ray! Had Hartford shown up? Was Ray having problems subduing him? He turned and plunged through the milling crowd towards the spot he'd last seen Ray. There he was! No sign of Hartford. Bodie slowed down in relief. Bloody hysterical Harold.

He was amused to see the Hoover chatting up Ray, who was staring down at the floor, shoulders hunched under his still open shirt. Looks like your lucky streak just ended, mate.

But then Ray licked his lips and raised eyes full of speculative interest. Bodie froze. Ray wouldn't. He just wouldn't.

Except that the Hoover was smiling and moving in closer to whisper in Ray's ear. He ran a finger lightly down the center of Ray's chest and continued past his waist to circle the bulge in his pants, and Ray shivered, face growing flushed.

A tight, hot feeling gripped Bodie's chest. Any second now the Hoover would jerk his head towards the back and Ray would follow him, like that other stupid, randy bastard trotting after the Hoover like a dog wagging his tail. And here Ray was actually considering... No. Hell, no. Not Ray.

Bodie moved forward, barely registering the crowd falling back to let him pass. He reached the two of them and gave a hard shove that sent the Hoover flailing backwards.

"You arsehole! What'd you do that for?" the man yelled, rubbing his chest.

Bodie reminded himself that Cowley wouldn't be pleased if he killed Joe Pubic on the job. "Get lost."

The Hoover took another look at Bodie, blanched and faded into the crowd without a protest. He was already forgotten as Bodie turned back to Ray.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Doyle?" he spat out.

"I wasn't--" Ray's protest was cut short by Bodie's contemptuous gesture.

"You bloody well were. I could see it. Harold could see it and fetched me to stop you 'cheating' on me. Strangers walking off the street could see it. So don't even try that with me."

Ray's expression changed from defensive to mulish. "You've got no right to judge me. You've done it yourself."

"Out of necessity. Because there weren't any other options." Bodie's face felt stiff and his gut churned. "But you... you want it, don't you? A man's mouth on your cock. That turn you on, Doyle? You turning queer on me?"

"You saying you wouldn't take his offer? Why don't I believe you? You heard what Harold said. Best blow job in London. I'd be a fool to turn that down. How'd you put it? Close me eyes and think of a pretty bird."

"But you're not closing 'em, are you?" Bodie sneered. "Your eyes'll be wide open and watching exactly who's sucking you off."

A swiftly hidden flinch, covered by fury. "Why the hell do you care? You made it clear you don't want me."

"I... What?" Bodie had the sudden disorienting sensation of stepping into thin air when one expected solid ground. He was vaguely aware of staring at Ray like a village idiot, mouth agape, but was too distracted by the shifting picture of the past week to care.

Ray was good at undercover work, slipping into his roles with an ease Bodie envied, as he tended to rely on his mercenary game face. So he hadn't questioned Ray's behaviour, just chalked it up to good acting, and concentrated on his end of things. The games were just a distraction from his own discomfort with this particular op and he'd enjoyed playing off of Ray. But if Ray hadn't seen it as a game, if he thought... No, Bodie corrected himself. Ray knew him too well not to know when he was fooling around. Ray'd been okay with it all along, until...

Until he put his hand on Bodie's crotch and found him hard. And thought it was for him, poor sod. Damn.

"I'm sorry," he said with genuine regret. "I was just joking about."

Ray shrugged, looking tired and bad-tempered but, to Bodie's relief, the anger was gone. "'S a misunderstanding. Forget it."

They stood there awkwardly, not quite looking at each other. Ray's eyes flickered over the crowd nervously and Bodie tensed again. Suddenly, he knew Ray was looking around for the Hoover. The itch was still there and, since Bodie wouldn't scratch it, why not try someone else?

Ray's just curious, Bodie told himself. Being here night after night, seeing it around him everywhere, a fella might start to wonder if it was any good. But Ray'd been curious before the op, hadn't he? Had asked in the car what a blow job from a man felt like. So it wasn't just this job. Ray'd been thinking about it all along.

What about their partnership? The world might be more sophisticated these days about homosexuality, but it was no use thinking Cowley wouldn't have a fit about security and public perceptions. What if Ray got careless? Christ, he could end up losing his partner over this.

Not while Bodie could do something about it. Decision made, not letting himself think any further, he took a firm grip on Ray's wrist and began dragging him towards the men's toilet.

"What the hell are you doing? Let go of me," Ray yelped and tried to dig his heels in.

"No way, sunshine." Bodie concentrated on maintaining his hold and kept on moving. "We're going to satisfy your curiosity and get back to normal."

"No," Ray said flatly and jerked his arm back.

Bodie swung around and glared at him. "Don't argue with me, Ray. I'm giving you what you want, so shut up and take it."

"You don't want it, you dumb shit!" Ray snarled.

"So what?" Bodie snapped back. "I'd do worse for you, wouldn't I?"

Ray's head jerked back as if he'd been slapped. He stared at Bodie grimly, then slowly his shoulders sagged. "Yeah," he said wearily. "You would. Fine. Let's do it then."

He trudged forward and Bodie fell into step with him, one hand placed against the small of Ray's back, urging him on.

Ray baulked at the door, seeing the number of men filling the small room, but Bodie crowded behind him and, reluctantly, a wary Ray entered.

Two men were coming out of one of the stalls and Bodie headed straight for it. His path was blocked by another couple. "This one's ours," said the taller of the two.

No way was Bodie giving Ray time to change his mind. "Take the next," he said curtly and shoved the protesting man aside.

Bodie pushed Ray inside and squeezed in after him, closing the stall door and ignoring the banging and threats. Ray just stood there so Bodie pushed him against the partition and kissed him hard. This was familiar territory, nothing they hadn't done before in the interests of maintaining their cover. Bodie knew the feel of Ray's body, Ray's practised kisses. Even the shock of Ray's hard-on pressed up against his wasn't entirely new after tonight.

Heart hammering, Bodie slid his hands under Ray's open shirt to explore smooth, hot skin. No feminine softness here, just the hard knobbiness of ribs and spine and the firm flesh of a muscular back. The image of Ray's muscles moving under his skin during the dance hit Bodie and, swift on its heels, the memory of the interrupted orgasm. His hips jerked against Ray, sending a sharp stab of pleasure through him.

Oh God, that's good, Bodie thought wildly and thrust again. Ray was mumbling something into his mouth and his hands fumbled at Bodie's shirt. Without breaking the kiss or the press of their groins, Bodie sucked in his gut enough to give Ray room to manoeuvre. When he finally felt Ray's warmth along the length of his exposed chest, Bodie moaned and, bracing both hands against the wall, began driving harder against Ray.

"Go on, sweetheart. Make him scream for it." Shocked, Bodie flung his head up to glare at the fucking queer leering down at them over the partition. The confusion of emotions roiling through him solidified into rage and he lunged upward with a snarl, slamming the side of his fist against the stall just below the man's head. The man squawked and lost his balance, tumbling off the toilet seat. "I see your fucking face again and I'll smash it in!" yelled Bodie.

The shrill complaints kept on and were joined by other angry voices outside. Shaking with adrenaline and lust, Bodie ignored them, grabbing Ray and eagerly reaching for another kiss.

"Bodie, stop," Ray gasped, his hands gripping Bodie's hips to hold them still. "Stop! I want..."

Feeling like he'd been drenched in cold water, Bodie met Ray's glittering, hungry eyes and swallowed hard. Yeah, he knew what Ray wanted. What he'd wanted from the Hoover. What Bodie'd practically promised him before dragging him in here.

"I've never done that before," he confessed in a harsh whisper.

Ray's eyes dropped, but he lifted them almost immediately without a trace of disappointment and whispered back. "Never mind then. What you were doing felt great."

Relief swept over Bodie and he was tempted to let it go. But what about tomorrow night? What about after the op? The thought of Ray sneaking back here, looking for the Hoover, finally getting what he was gagging for...

Bodie squared his shoulders and gave Ray a crooked grin. "Nah, just wanted to warn you that I might not be up to the Hoover's standards. You'll have to settle for the second best blow job in London."

Ray tilted his head, studying Bodie's face. Finally, he scoffed, "Second best? You? Never happen."

Bodie's grin became real, stretching dopily across his face, and Ray responded in turn, face creasing into happy wrinkles, momentarily ugly, familiar, dear. "You're finally recognising my innate superiority. Took you long enough."

The burst of good humour gave him the strength to seat himself on the toilet and draw Ray to stand between his legs. He was proud of the fact that his hands moved deftly to open Ray's belt and unzip his trousers. Ray's musk momentarily shook him, but he'd smelt the same on himself on occasions when he'd been aroused too long, so he finished fishing out Ray's cock calmly enough.

Facing it down was another matter. Giving the occasional downward glance to ascertain one's own manly superiority didn't prepare a fella for the difference in size when a cock was inches from your face. To give himself time, Bodie gingerly wrapped his fist around it and slid the foreskin back and forth.

When Ray's hand touched his head gently, he knew another offer to quit was coming. To forestall it, he smiled brightly and said, "Just admiring your assets, sunshine. Too bad I didn't bring me binoculars."

The caress turned into an indignant slap to the back of his head. While Ray was still laughing, Bodie quickly wrapped his mouth around the tip of Ray's cock. Bitterness exploded on his tongue, then Ray's laugh changed into a breathless sob and the taste was forgotten. He ran his tongue around the head, trying to make Ray sound like that again.

Ray obliged with another moan and the sound went straight to Bodie's cock, which demonstrated its re-awakened interest by throbbing painfully against his zip. Bodie shifted round a bit to ease it and then sternly ignored it, preferring to concentrate on Ray instead.

Bodie'd always prided himself on his technique with women and, despite the completely different equipment, the process of figuring out what in particular drove someone crazy was the same. With increasing confidence, Bodie grew bolder in his efforts, spurred on by every twitch and incoherent murmur.

Damn, I'm good, Bodie thought smugly. Strange and awkward as this was, it was also oddly -- he decided 'fun' was the proper word -- to reduce his partner to this pleading, trembling state. Rough affection swept through him. Enjoying yourself, you over-sexed golly?

He made the mistake of looking up to find Ray staring down at him, face raw with need and pained pleasure. Green eyes were fixed raptly on Bodie's mouth and he knew exactly what Ray was seeing. He felt dizzy, all amusement gone. What the hell was he doing here? This wasn't some favour for a friend...

Then Ray raised his eyes to meet Bodie's and he was trapped, painfully aware of the definite possibility of coming in his trousers without ever touching himself -- Just like the Hoover, a quiet, dark voice pointed out -- watching Ray watching him as Ray continued to work himself in and out of Bodie's mouth. In that moment, Bodie saw-- he felt-- Oh bloody hell!

Ray's eyelids fluttered and he gave a long, guttural sigh. Not that Bodie noticed, as he was suddenly occupied with trying to gracefully swallow the most nasty acquired taste he'd ever come across.

As soon as he could, he opened his mouth to let Ray's cock slip out and rested his forehead against Ray's heaving stomach, listening to him gulp for breath. I think that went well, he thought distantly.

Then hands were pushing him back and lifting his head. Ray licked his lips and said hoarsely, "Your turn."

Bodie stared up at him and thought of Ray sitting here in Bodie's place, Bodie's cock in his mouth, eyes open and watching, watching his face, contorted by lust, naked and vulnerable under the onslaught of the pleasure Ray was giving him.

"No!" He stood and hurriedly pressed Ray back against the partition, face turned into Ray's curls, safely hidden. "This is what I want... this..."

Ray's arms came up round him. "Whatever you want, mate. It's yours."

"This..." Bodie muttered, shoving his trousers out of the way to slide his swollen cock against the sweat-slick fur of Ray's lower belly. He groaned at the sensation and began thrusting helplessly. Ray shifted his legs further apart to accommodate him and Bodie pressed closer, fingers urgently scrabbling at Ray's hips, eyes clamped tight against unwelcome knowledge.

"That's it, Bodie. C'mon." Ray's quiet voice urged him on. "I've got your back, mate. Let it go."

No need to think about things. Ray was watching his back. He trusted Ray. So good to finally, finally stop holding back and mindlessly seek pleasure.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it. Want to see you come, Bodie."

...Ray. Ray, Ray, Ray.

Bodie's orgasm came boiling up from his gut, in excruciatingly pleasurable spasms. He hung on to Ray and let loose a shaky groan, half-laughter, half-sob, not quite knowing which one he meant.

---

Silently, they went about the business of wiping off and doing up their clothes. The gathered men had something to say about queue jumpers but Ray snarled back at them and steered Bodie past with an arm round him that felt oddly protective. Bodie briefly considered protesting the damsel in distress bit, but he couldn't quite muster the energy.

Outside the men's room, he caught sight of an anxious Harold hovering. I suppose I owe the little bugger, Bodie thought and, with an effort, winked broadly and mouthed, 'Thanks, mate.' Harold went pink with pleasure but, after a questioning look at Ray, kept his distance and Bodie was grateful for that.

Ray was herding him back towards their favoured seating area, when he abruptly tensed.

"Fucking hell!" Ray yelled and darted forward, throwing over his shoulder a quick, "Hartford! He's just walked out!"

The immediate surge of adrenaline wiped away any trace of lethargy and Bodie tore after Ray, barrelling through the crowd and ignoring the protests as they pushed people aside.

Hartford? Here and leaving? The thought of Cowley's wrath if they'd missed him was a cold knot in the pit of Bodie's stomach. He burst through the door into the street to find Ray frantically turning in circles.

Bodie cursed as Ray shook his head and pointed off to Bodie's right. Bodie took off running in that direction, while Ray headed the opposite way.

Checking doorways, dark nooks, and alleys as he ran, it took a moment to realise he heard yelling from behind him. Sounded like more than one, but he heard a distinct "Bodie!", and whirled round to race back.

Turning the corner he found Ray in a fierce fight with half-a-dozen young thugs. Nothing too serious as none of them were carrying knives, just using fists and sticks, but more than Ray could handle without having serious damage inflicted upon him. The angry, contemptuous faces yelling, "Faggots!" and "Queers!" made it clear this wasn't a robbery or worse, just your average bit of queer bashing. Bodie swore and waded in. Of all the stupid, idiotic pieces of bad luck! Hartford was probably miles away by now.

One of the thugs threw a wild swing and Bodie went down, rolling out of the way to avoid getting kicked. Ray shouted, jabbing the nearest one viciously in the stomach, and tried to get to Bodie. Bodie lashed out with a leg and tripped one of his attackers.

Then someone yelled, "Hang on. I'm coming!"

The four boys left standing decided the almost even odds weren't to their liking and took off, leaving their two fallen friends behind. The newcomer came running up and kicked one of the unconscious bodies viciously in the groin. Bodie winced.

"God damned bloody cowards!" The man yelled after the fleeing thugs. "Come back so I can kill you!"

He turned to Ray and Bodie and said, "God, I hate their kind. You certainly showed them that gays are no pushovers."

Ray looked as gobsmacked as Bodie felt, then, with a sharp-eyed, friendly smile, Ray said smoothly, "Thanks for the help, mate. You have no idea how much we appreciate your coming to our rescue."

Bodie grinned up at the elusive, miraculously-appearing Hartford, gripped his offered hand and let the man pull him to his feet. "You know, friend, I almost feel bad about this." With a sharp jerk, he pulled Hartford off balance, slipped behind him, and had him in a choke-hold before he could react. "CI5 wants a word with you."

Hartford cursed and began struggling, but Bodie easily held him. "Get the car."

Ray nodded and took off running. Bodie dragged Hartford back into the shadows of the nearest doorway and waited. Two minutes later, Ray pulled up and Bodie manhandled Hartford into the back seat and slid in next to him, fending off a kick. Ray tossed him his gun from the front seat.

"Behave yourself," Bodie warned, with cheerful menace. Hartford stared at the gun and sullenly obeyed.

Flushed with relief and triumph, it wasn't until Ray called it in that Bodie realised...

The stakeout was over.

Bodie stared at the back of Ray's head all the way to headquarters and Ray never once turned to look at him.

---

Despite the late hour, Cowley showed up twenty minutes after they did. The political pressure must be intense, Bodie thought, if the old man wasn't going to wait until morning to sweat Hartford for information.

Cowley demanded a quick account which Ray gave him in a briskly efficient manner. Bodie stood silently next to him wearing his best wooden expression, and nodded agreement whenever Cowley threw him a sharp look.

"Well done," said Cowley. "Not the easiest of assignments, I know, but you two brought it to a successful conclusion. I'll need your reports first thing in the morning but after that you're off until further notice. Go home, relax, and get the sour taste of this out of your system."

He nodded at Ray's hand, bloodied from the street fight. "Get that taken care of before you leave. And, for God's sake, Doyle, button your shirt properly. You look like a common thug."

Ray flushed, looking down at his mis-buttoned shirt. He must've done it up wrong in the stall after... afterwards. Bodie felt a dull pang.

"Yes, sir," Ray said, and walked off towards the infirmary.

Bodie stood there staring after him with growing anger. Well, if Ray was going to ignore him, then he could bloody well find his own way home. Bodie had better things to do than wait around for someone who wasn't talking to him.

---

It was all Cowley's fault. Bloody Cowley and his bloody triple think. Didn't work so well this time, did it?

Bodie carefully tipped the whisky bottle over his glass and was proud when most of the whisky landed in it instead of on the carpet. He leant forward very carefully to place the bottle on the floor and waited to see if it would tip over. It remained upright and Bodie relaxed.

What... Oh yeah, Cowley.

Cowley was the brains of CI5, no question. So why had he got it so wrong this time? Even a drunken idiot of a field agent -- Bodie toasted himself solemnly -- could see that the very reason one might decide Bodie and Doyle were the best ones to handle a homosexual cover was the very reason they were absolutely the worst ones to send.

Did the Cow even know what he'd done? Did he care? Or did he count the politically-expedient result worth the cost?

"Here's to you, sir. Rot in hell, you cold-hearted bastard."

Bloody glass was empty. Bodie felt around for the bottle and labouriously poured himself another.

There was a sudden scrabbling at the door lock -- Ray using his key to get in. Bodie took another sip of whisky and continued staring bleakly at nothing in particular.

"Why the hell are you sitting in the dark, Bodie?" Ray came and perched on the arm of the couch.

"'m getting soused," Bodie announced with drunken dignity.

"I don't blame you," Ray said in disgust. "We made a right mess of things tonight."

Bodie grimaced sullenly. Just like Ray to kick a man when he's down.

"Look, Bodie, what happened tonight, you know it can't happen again, right?"

It wasn't entirely unexpected given that Ray had avoided his eyes throughout the entire debriefing, but Bodie still felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Right, Ray."

"So bloody stupid! If Cowley knew, we'd be kicked out, no second chances."

"Bloody stupid," Bodie repeated and emptied his glass.

Ray leant forward and took it out of his hand, setting it on the sidetable. "We're agreed then?"

"Whatever you say, Ray."

"All right." Ray relaxed and looked Bodie over critically. "Let's get you to bed, mate. We've got our reports to write up in the morning and it'll take a clear head to come up with a reason why we didn't see Hartford arriving, just leaving."

Bodie vaguely considered protesting that he wasn't finished getting soused, but Ray was already hauling him up and tugging Bodie's arm over his shoulders. The warmth of Ray's body alongside his reminded him of what he was losing and he forgot what he meant to say.

Ray dropped him on his bed and began efficiently stripping his clothes off him. Bodie lay there passively watching the calmly intent face as Ray performed the duties of a friend taking care of his worse-for-wear mate. Bodie shifted his arse obediently when told to and let Ray cover him up with the blanket.

"What have you been eating lately? You weigh a bloody ton," Ray complained as he stood and twisted from side to side, stretching his back.

To Bodie's utter shock, Ray began removing his shirt. "What're you doing?"

Ray froze, his brisk demeanour changing to uncertainty. "I guess I am presuming a bit. Can I spend the night?"

Bodie gaped at him. "But... but you said it couldn't happen again."

"What?" Ray frowned. "Well yeah, we can't afford to be distracted on the job like that. Strictly professional at work or it's no go. You agreed with me."

Ray sank down into a crouch by the side of the bed, bringing his face to Bodie's level. He's nervous, Bodie realised in surprise.

"Look, tonight was good, wasn't it? And it seemed to me that you..." Ray hesitated. "Don't tell me I'm alone in this."

Hoping that he wasn't misunderstanding, Bodie slowly shook his head.

Ray looked relieved, his nervousness abruptly changing into impatience. "Then shove over. I'm not sleeping with my arse hanging over the edge of the bed." He shot up and kicked off his shoes, grumbling. "Don't know why you had to get drunk tonight. I had all sorts of plans for us. Bet you have a hangover in the morning and it'll serve you right." He shoved jeans and pants down in the same move and stepped out of them, to loom naked over Bodie, hands on hips. "What are you waiting for? It's getting cold out here."

Bodie let himself be pushed into position as Ray, all bony elbows and knees, squirmed round like a dog making himself comfortable. He obediently kissed Ray when told to, and shifted wordlessly to accommodate Ray's arm and leg thrown possessively over him. Even Ray's eventual snoring didn't disturb the vast contentment soaring inside him.

Knew you couldn't resist me, sunshine, he thought happily just before he fell asleep, secure in his conviction that he'd won the war after all.

-- THE END --

July 2006