The Professionals Circuit Archive - Blue	 Blue

 

by LilyK 

 
 On the drive to his flat, Doyle felt the storm brewing in Bodie, but his
tentative probes to discover the cause of his partner's brooding silence
were ignored. Bodie kept his eyes on the road and drove like a man
possessed. Doyle wasn't in the mood to get into it with him anyway, so,
with a mental shrug, he surrendered and fell silent. He knew well and good
that when Bodie got into one of these snits it was next to impossible to
sweet talk him into a better frame of mind.

 Doyle had no doubt that Bodie would let him know exactly what was
bothering him in his own good time. But if Bodie wanted an argument
tonight, he was on his own. Doyle wasn't having any of it. He was hungry
and tired and wanted nothing more than a good meal and a hot bath. Add a
stiff drink, and he would be a happy man.

 Not that Bodie didn't have reason to be angry and irritable. They'd both
had a hell of a day, and it didn't set well with either of them that their
controller had sent them out on an op without a chance in hell of
survival. It was only through sheer will and determination that they had
both survived, along with their charge. No thanks to bloody Cowley and his
pack of fellow bureaucrats. He and Bodie been pushed about like pieces on
a chess board. Expendable pieces. That also hadn't sat well with either of
them for some odd reason, Doyle mused sarkily.

 Slumped against the passenger door, Doyle watched the reflection of the
street lamps play off the car's bonnet as they wound their way down his
road. He almost smiled when the fates decided not to test Bodie's temper
any further by denying him an empty parking space directly in front of
Doyle's building. But Bodie's attitude didn't seem assuaged by his good
fortune. He stomped on the brakes, skidded to a halt amidst a squeal of
tires, and manoeuvred the car into the space without saying a word.

 By the time Doyle climbed from the car, Bodie had already made his way to
the pavement, where he waited impatiently, one foot tapping and hands
jammed deeply into his pockets. Even through the jacket material, Doyle
could see that Bodie's hands were clenched into fists and again he
wondered exactly what was eating him. But from the cold glare that snapped
from dark eyes, he knew he wasn't going to get any reasonable explanation
out here in the street.

 With a shrug, he headed to his flat, ignoring his irritating partner, who
followed closely at his heels, practically walking on the backs of his
trainers. One more bump into his back, and he'd elbow Bodie right in the
gut.

 Determined to keep his temper under control, Doyle unlocked the door and
stepped through. Before he could politely ask Bodie if he would like a
drink or something to eat, he was slammed, face first, against the inside
of his own front door. When Bodie's forearm pressed across his shoulders,
Doyle let out a surprised "oomph."

 Bodie's laboured breath scorched the back of Doyle's neck, burning a spot
there, he was sure, and he shivered at the intensity of the harsh sound
and the heat that prickled along his skin.

 "Bodie..." Doyle whispered roughly, suddenly and fiercely aroused at the
feel of Bodie's body pressed against his, the hard chest covering his
back, the heated crotch cupping his arse.

 Bodie's hips jerked. "Shut up," he ordered, shoving his arm against
Doyle's shoulders for emphasis. "Just... don't say a word."

 Doyle blinked slowly, his chest tight with desire, so that each breath
was a struggle. He saw Bodie's hand flash in front of his face as it
snaked out to flip the levers on both locks, and it was a comforting
gesture. They were safe behind closed doors. They'd survived, in spite of
Cowley's games. They were together... The sharp snap of the locks echoed
in Doyle's head, and he groaned softly, suddenly knowing exactly what his
partner wanted. What he needed.

 "Did you think you could do that to me and I wouldn't notice?" Bodie
hissed menacingly, each word piercing into Doyle's brain like jabs of cold
steel. "Did you?" And with each word, Bodie firmly thrust his hips,
grinding Doyle's pelvis into the hard wood. "Do I look daft to you?"

 "I didn't-"

 Bodie's hand threaded through Doyle's hair and pulled his head backwards
where his mouth was taken in a rough, wet kiss. Doyle gave a passing
thought to shoving Bodie away and demanding that he be released, but as
Bodie's tongue probed his mouth, he knew that was the last thing he
wanted.

 Doyle moaned deeply under the relentless oral assault and he knew that
what he really wanted was to be fucked, and he wanted it now. He wanted
Bodie like this -- demanding and possessive, and so fucking sexy that
Doyle was ready to explode in his already tight jeans if the man didn't do
something soon. Very soon.

 He reveled in the arousal that coursed through his body as his head was
pulled further backwards and Bodie's tongue continued to probe his mouth.
Bodie didn't let up even when a whimper rose unbidden from the back of
Doyle's throat. Doyle shifted his hips as his aching cock was painfully
shoved again and again into the door, and Bodie's lips and tongue worked
their magic until Doyle felt his knees shake. Only Bodie could do this to
him, send him right to the edge of consciousness until a rainbow of lights
flashed wildly behind his tightly closed eyes and he felt himself grow
woozy.

 He couldn't help himself as he sagged in Bodie's strong grasp. Bodie's
mouth ripped away from his. Between ragged breaths, Bodie rasped, "No, you
don't, mate. No fainting on me. I have too much to do to you yet."

 Doyle breathed harshly as well, taking in great gulps of air as his
fingers scrabbled against the wood. "Fuck," he finally managed to blurt
out.

 "We'll get to that soon enough," Bodie growled, abruptly releasing
Doyle's head. When Doyle groaned at the sudden movement, Bodie's hand
briefly rested against his scalp in a quick caress before moving away.
"You slut," Bodie said softly, intently. "Did you really think I wouldn't
notice?" he repeated.

 "Notice what?" Doyle said, his throat dry and his voice breaking. His
cock ached and he wriggled uncomfortably, but Bodie's hold was
unrelenting.

 "That fucking patch! All day long, you waggled your arse in my face, and
that patch was like a bloody bullseye. Every time I looked, your bum was
facing me. Every damned time. It wiggled and beckoned. It called to me all
sodding day!"

 Doyle weakly shook his head in protest. "I didn't-"

 Their gazes met.

 "Don't lie to me."

 "You didn't say anything," Doyle said, casting Bodie what he hoped was a
look of contrition.

 "We were working, you stupid..." Bodie's eyes widened before they
narrowed suspiciously. "You little shit. You knew! You knew that
somewhere, in the back of my mind, all I would see was that blue square!"

 "I never!" Doyle protested, even as he felt Bodie twist slightly and a
hand skim across his bum, fingers trailing down the center seam of his
jeans. He twitched at the sensation.

 "Right," Bodie said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're a picture
of innocence, mate."

 Before Doyle could further defend that innocence, Bodie's knowing fingers
found a weak spot in the patch and yanked. The room echoed the sounds of
their combined harsh breathing and the popping of thread.

 Bodie's fingers snaked into the hole, and he let out a bark of surprised
laugher. "Ray! You are a slut! There's absolutely nothing between your
skin and that patch!"

 Doyle shuddered as Bodie's fingers caressed the exposed skin. "Oh, shit!
Bodie!" he shouted when the fingers delved under the torn fabric and
probed at his center.

 "Got to get at it," Bodie muttered. Suddenly, he moved away, and Doyle
nearly fell when his support disappeared. But Bodie's strong arms snagged
him, and before he could question what was going to happen next, Doyle
found himself propelled into the kitchen and spread face down on the table
with his toes barely touching the floor.

 "Bodie, what about the bed?" Doyle protested, but any further thoughts of
complaint vanished when Bodie's hands found his arse once again.

 "Too far," Bodie grumbled as his hands grabbed each side of the hole that
the patch had previously covered, and pulled. With a grunt of approval,
Bodie's teeth latched onto Doyle's cheek, and Doyle shouted out at the
pain/pleasure of it.

 "Like that, do you?" Bodie asked before his mouth found its target yet
again.

 "Damn you!" Doyle cried, squirming under Bodie's hands that held his hips
firmly. "Get the sodding jeans off!" he demanded. He tried to use one foot
to push the shoe off the other, desperate to shed both them and the
too-hot, too-tight denim.

 "Not on your life. Like you like this. Your parts exposed." Bodie's
fingers trailed along Doyle's arse.

 "For chrissake!" Doyle yelled, fingers scrabbling under him for his own
belt. "Get these off!. Going crazy here, Bodie. Now, damn you!"

 "Damn it all," Bodie growled and yanked Doyle upright.

 Reaching around, Bodie fumbled with the buckle until Doyle impatiently
smacked his hands away to shakily unbuckle and unzip himself. He had
barely got the zip down when Bodie let out an impatient sound and
hurriedly wrenched the jeans down. Doyle was thankful that his cock wasn't
ripped off at the root. Then Bodie used one foot to push the jeans down
around his ankles, but with his shoes still on, wiggle as he might, there
was no way he could climb out of them. With his ankles now securely bound,
Doyle found himself face down on the table once again, his arse in the
air.

 "Like having your legs hampered. Can control you like this." Bodie found
that sweet spot right behind Doyle's balls. "Hard to control at times. But
like this..." His fingernail lightly scraped. "You're mine. Didn't like
you making up to that girl. She couldn't give you what you need."

 "Bodie..." Doyle groaned when Bodie's hands covered his arse cheeks and
kneaded them. "Gonna explode here if you don't hurry the fuck up! Christ!"

 "Hang about. Don't you dare move," Bodie ordered, smacking his backside
sharply.

 Bodie suddenly moved away, and Doyle let out a growl of impatience. He
heard the sounds of a cupboard door opening, cans and bottles being
shifted, and then Bodie hands were all over him again. Fingers spread him
as wide as they could in his current position and he held his breath when
they breached his opening, slipping in quickly. "What...?"

 "Salad oil," Bodie replied at the unfinished question. "Extra virgin," he
added with an amused snort. He fucked Doyle's arse for a few strokes
before he pulled his fingers out, making Doyle gasp.

 Doyle heard the sound of a zip seconds before fingers spread him again.
He hurriedly latched his hands onto the sides of the table and anchored
himself just in time. In the next breath, he felt his lover's thick cock,
in a hot, oily rush, seated itself fully.

 "Ray!"

 "Oh, God," Doyle gasped, trying to spread his legs wider.

 In their awkward position, Bodie straddled Doyle. He hung onto the table
as Bodie planted a hand on either side of his head and thrust wildly.
Doyle held on and prayed that the table didn't collapse under their
combined weight and Bodie's enthusiastic lovemaking.

 Bodie grunted and shifted his hips as he pulled back. Then he pushed in
again, nailing Doyle's prostate. When Doyle's howl of pleasure echoed
through the small room, Bodie muttered, "Here, bite on this, before the
neighbours call the police."

 Doyle laughed wildly when he saw the errant denim patch appear in front
of him. He opened his mouth, biting down on the material that Bodie shoved
between his teeth. Bodie's thrusts became erratic, and Doyle felt his
lover's cock swell deep in his body right before he heard Bodie's
triumphant cry of completion.

 God, but he loved Bodie like this. Wild and demanding. Needing him.
Loving him. He revelled in the fact that he could make Bodie crazy enough
to use him like this. He loved the idea that Bodie had to have him, right
here, right now. Calm, cool, stoic Bodie, losing control. It was the stuff
of his best dreams.

 Bodie let out a final groan before he collapsed on top of him. Doyle
closed his eyes and shuddered, his own body's needs still unfulfilled.
Bodie must have felt his quaking because soon busy hands were caressing
him along his flanks.

 "Damn it all. Sorry, lover," Bodie said softly, carefully removing the
denim from Doyle's mouth before kissing him lightly on the cheek. Bodie
pushed himself upright, and after cautiously pulling out of Doyle, he
helped him to his feet. "All your fault, you know."

 Doyle smiled, turning towards his lover. "Nothin' to be sorry for."

 "May I?" Bodie asked politely, his face serious as he reached out to palm
Doyle's thick flesh.

 "Wish you would," Doyle answered, equally polite before he chuckled. "But
first, can you get these sodding jeans off?"

 Laughing, Bodie quickly knelt down and dispatched shoes and torn jeans
before he rose, still grinning. Reaching to the counter for a bottle, he
dumped more of the salad oil onto his hand and coated Doyle's cock.

 "Bedroom?" Doyle asked yet again, thrusting into the tunnel of Bodie's
fist.

 "No," Bodie said, an evil grin crossing his lips. "Right here."

 Doyle gasped and pushed his hips forward, his hands planted on Bodie's
shoulders. With his partner's hand dancing a merry tune on his cock, he
soon found himself flat on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor
with Bodie straddling him. Doyle blinked dazedly through the haze of lust
as he was stroked with a touch too light to finish the job but enough to
make him absolutely crazy with desire. He was so aroused, he could barely
think.

 "Hey, when did you get naked?" he finally asked, a daft grin on his face,
he was sure. Bodie just grinned as he cupped his balls and rubbed his
perineum. "Bodie!" His eyes closed, and his body focused on getting off.
When Bodie's hands moved way, his eyes flew open and he protested wildly.
"Jesus, finish it! Or I'll finish it meself!"

 "Ray," Bodie whispered, leaning down to fuse their mouths together.

 For the moment, Doyle forgot about everything but the feel of Bodie's
mouth on his. Bodie's kisses stole his breath from his body and ripped all
rational thought right out of his mind. He shivered when Bodie's hand
slipped under his shirt and twisted his nipple. Doyle arched upward, his
cries of arousal muffled by Bodie's mouth.

 When Bodie finally freed his lips and smiled down at him, the warmth
spilling from the dark blue eyes made Doyle shiver with delight.

 "Love you, Raymond."

 "Yeah," Doyle said, an answering smile playing across his lips.

 "How's this?" Bodie asked as he lowered himself onto Doyle's cock.

 Before Doyle could respond, he was fully sheathed in his lover's body.
"Ah, Christ, Bodie. Feels good. I'm not going to last..."

 "Thought you'd like it." Bodie wiggled his hips. "Where's that bloody
patch?"

 "What?" Doyle asked, barely able to concentrate amidst the crash of
feelings -- love, lust, need...

 Bodie sat back on his hips, grinning happily. With his shirt askew and
covered in salad oil, he looked incredibly self-satisfied and delightfully
edible. Doyle laughed out loud at his messy lover. There was even salad
oil in Bodie's hair, which stood on end in glistening spikes.

 "Ah ha!" Bodie reached out towards the table, his hand returning with the
blue square. "Open up."

 Doyle once again accepted the fabric between his teeth as Bodie leaned
forward onto his hands and began to ride Doyle's cock. Doyle bit down even
harder, thrusting upward on each of Bodie's downward strokes. His eyes
closed.

 "Look at me when you come, sunshine," Bodie ordered. "Look at me, love."

 Doyle's eyes flew open at Bodie's soft command. With their gazes locked,
Bodie rode Doyle's cock, pleasure etched on his face. When Bodie clamped
his muscles tightly, with a shout, Doyle came hard and fast.

 "Good lad," Bodie said playfully, pulling the makeshift gag from Doyle's
mouth to kiss him once again before he carefully pushed himself off.

 "Okay?" Doyle asked when he saw Bodie's small grimace.

 "Salad oil isn't the best, mate."

 "You're the one who wouldn't wait. There was proper lube in the bedroom."

 Bodie shrugged, helping Doyle to his feet. "We're a fright."

 "No, you're not."

 "Eh? I'm covered in oil, and we just spent hours carousing all over the
country, running from idiots, being shot at... I'm smelly and dirty-"

 "Just the way I like it." Doyle smiled and moved closer, his hands
resting on Bodie's hips. "The way I like you. Randy and pushy. Now give us
a kiss. And in a bit, after a shower and dinner and a bit of a kip, I have
some new ideas." With a laugh, he asked, "Now where's that bloody patch?"

 -- THE END --

 *December 2007*

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