The Professionals Circuit Archive - They Don't All Wear Green on
Thursdays	They Don't All Wear Green on Thursdays

 

by ET

  
 *(Sequel to Pages 32-33 and Pages 34-35, by H) *

Bodie studied Doyle surreptitiously as they sat in Cowley's office,
listening to their briefing. *He looks like the old, familiar Ray Doyle,
CI5 agent, but I don't know him - not the real man, underneath the tough
exterior... * Bodie had been given a glimpse of him that morning, though.
Things had happened so fast he still couldn't believe it. He'd been
sitting over a last cup of coffee, trying to imagine what Ray's gay
lifestyle must be like - and not getting beyond the inherent loneliness -
when the object of his thoughts had arrived, bruised, tired and depressed.
Bodie had insisted on cleaning up his injuries a little, horrified and
furious at the danger Doyle was exposed to out on the streets at night.
God knew there was peril enough in their jobs, did Doyle have to risk
himself on one night stands as well? They'd ended up yelling at each other
and Bodie had suddenly realised that he was the one who should be looking
after Doyle - all night as well as all day. 

Doyle's confession of love for him had taken him aback momentarily, as had
the knowledge that he, *Bodie*, was the cause of Doyle's mistake' and the
reason for his hurts - Bodie felt another jolt at the memory - but at the
same time the commitment had strengthened and although he'd been unsure
whether he could respond as Doyle obviously wished, only knew he wanted to
try. 

The recollection of Doyle's response to his touch, and the fire that had
flared through his own blood, took Bodie's breath away again and he felt a
warm glow rise slowly, tingling the length of his body. Startled, and
afraid the heat would centre and make itself obvious, he shut off all
thought of the physical aspects and instead turned his mind back to the
puzzle of just how Ray could have been gay for so long without his working
partner being aware of it. Again, Bodie searched his memory for any
evidence of change in Doyle's behaviour and this time came up with
something: his partner's altered style of dress. It had happened a few
months back, when the scruffy jeans had suddenly disappeared, together
with the collarless shirts and baggy sweatshirts. In their place Doyle had
sported new jeans, smarter shirts (always with several buttons left
undone...) and a never-ending supply of jackets, the favourite of which
seemed to be an eye-catching tan leather blouson with a plush, fur collar.
Bodie had soon noticed this new image because it drew attention to his own
clothes and he was suddenly annoyingly conscious of just how worn and
boring his own apparel was. Wondering briefly whether Doyle had had a pay
rise without him, Bodie had dismissed it, supposing there to be a new girl
in the wings, but it had still struck him as odd that the new rig-out,
obviously worn to impress and attract, should be used for work. Not odd
any longer, though. Bodie now knew that those clothes, together with the
new hairstyle, had been aimed right at him. Doyle may have said he would
never have made a pass at him but his sub-conscious had been working
pretty hard in a desperate attempt to get Bodie's attention. He risked
another look in his partner's direction. 

Doyle lounged back in his chair, ostensibly listening carefully to their
irritable boss, but a small portion of his mind was acutely aware of
Bodie's glances. Doyle didn't dare return them - much as he wanted to -
because they had to watch their step with Cowley in this waspish mood. If
either of them stepped an inch out of line, Cowley was liable to retaliate
by giving them an excrutiatingly boring, dirty or tiring job. So Doyle
kept his happiness firmly damped down, but every so often little bubbles
of it would escape and start the butterflies fluttering in his stomach
again. Taking his mind off Cowley for an instant, he considered the
feeling. It was something he had rarely experienced since adolescence and
it pleased him that Bodie could engender it now. He had felt it briefly
the previous night, in the pub, when he had caught sight of a dark,
cropped head in the mirror over the bar. Forgetting that Bodie wasn't
likely to be in a place like this, he had turned eagerly, searching out
the familiar figure, then his heart had dropped again as the light fell on
the man's face. It wasn't Bodie...but very similar...enough, maybe, in a
dim light, to lend a little substance to Doyle's darkest, sweetest, most
compelling dream. The stranger had seemed willing enough, too; quickly
sensing someone's eyes on him, he'd looked up, met Doyle's hungry stare
and within minutes was leading him out of the bar, guiding him in the
direction of an apartment a few streets away. But the guy obviously had
his own fantasies and Doyle's tender, cherished wishes had faded under the
onslaught of the man's powerful need for subjugation. Infuriated and
sickened, Doyle had hit back with a heavy punch on the jaw and, wrenching
open the door, ran down the stairs and out into the street, not stopping
until he was in the driving seat of his car. Head bowed against the
steering wheel, senses still spinning from the blows he had received, the
soft panting had gradually given way to sobs as hopelessness and misery
spread through him like a black cloud. Even his dreams of how it might be
with Bodie were tainted now. Pulling himself together, he drove home,
showered quickly and got into bed without bothering to attend to his cuts
and bruises. He didn't want to look in the mirror, felt too disgusted with
himself. 

But that was last night. This morning... No fantasy had prepared him for
how Bodie's kiss would feel in reality. Doyle had been overwhelmed,
uncomprehending, only breathlessly grateful that Bodie understood and in
his concern and affection for his partner, genuinely wanted to care for
Doyle, to ensure that last night's experience would never be repeated. 

After that one kiss, Doyle had been delighted to feel Bodie's unlooked-for
arousal pressing against his own. He couldn't believe Bodie's easy
acceptance and his heart had somersaulted as Bodie asked gently,
wonderingly, why he hadn't said anything before. That would have been
impossible and anyway, it didn't matter now. Bodie knew...and felt the
same... 

Suddenly realising his eyes were almost closed, Doyle sat upright and
looked guiltily across at Cowley, hoping he hadn't noticed. 

George Cowley gradually became aware of an undercurrent of emotion in the
room. Eyeing his two operatives sharply, he wondered what had happened.
Where was the repartee which usually sparked back and forth between them?
They were too quiet - almost ignoring each other, but there'd been no
arguments, that he could swear to because the air could be almost toxic
after one of their rare but heated exchanges. No, there was some other
emotion at work here, hidden just below the surface, linking them
together. It hadn't been there yesterday. Cowley wondered if Doyle had at
last told his partner exactly where his emotional and physical needs had
been taking him for the past few years and, more than that, had something
occurred to make it possible for Doyle to admit his feelings for Bodie?
Cowley pondered on the cuts and bruises visible on the round face - maybe
they had played a part, although he was almost willing to bet a bottle of
his best malt whisky that Bodie wasn't answerable for those injuries. His
eyes darted to the dark, rangy figure in the other chair. That irritating,
woman-chasing young man can't have objected at all to Doyle's feelings,
judging by the atmosphere in his office. Perhaps this relationship was
just what both of them needed - a stabilizing factor? 

Seeing Bodie shift uncomfortably under the sustained observation, Cowley
relented and, blinking, looked down at his desk once more, silently
congratulating Doyle on having achieved what he wanted most. Cowley didn't
intend letting on that he knew, having been on the receiving end of
Doyle's rages for interfering in his private life more than once in the
past, but they didn't give the old man' enough credit sometimes, he
thought, remembering the expression that had been clearly visible in
Doyle's eyes sometimes when he looked at Bodie, thinking himself
unobserved. Maybe if he gave them something interesting but fairly
harmless to do today, to keep them out of trouble, hopefully they'd sort
themselves out over the weekend and he'd have two sensible operatives
again on Monday, concentrating on work instead of on each other. 

Accordingly, Cowley revised his decision to send Bodie and Doyle out to
keep watch on London's East India Docks for evidence of a recently
detected drug smuggling gang, instead opting for a subtler approach. The
two men could spend the day tracking down Shorty Collins, a down-and-outer
who made the sheds and warehouses of that part of London's dockland his
regular haunt. Maybe, in exchange for a good meal and a drink, Shorty
could be persuaded to get them some useful information and with any luck
they might even catch this gang red-handed. 

Looking up once more, whatever words Cowley had been about to say were
frozen on his lips as he saw Bodie frantically waggling his eyebrows at
Doyle's idiotically grinning face. 

"*When* you've both finished," Cowley snapped, biting back his own smile
as their heads jerked round. "I want you to go and pick up Shorty Collins.
As you might remember, he hangs about the dock area on the Isle of Dogs." 

After a surprised pause, Bodie groaned. "Oh, I remember, all right." 

Recalling the last time they'd picked this particular miscreant off the
streets, Doyle chuckled. "You never know, mate it's spring, he might've
had a bath." 

"Huh, the only liquid that blighter's skin ever sees is gin!" 

"Mmm, a good preserving agent, that. Pity it stops at his innards when it
could pickle the rest of im." 

"Yeah...and we're in *my* car again, Doyle. Christ, last time it took me a
week to get rid of the stink!" 

"Okay, so I'll help you fumigate it this time!" 

Relieved to see the return of their humorous backchat, but irritated by it
nonetheless, Cowley sighed. 

"If you'd rather stay here all day, I've got a lot of paperwork that needs
catching up on..." 

"Uh, no thanks, sir," Bodie said hurriedly. "Very dangerous work, that. I
left blood all over the files last time - kept cutting myself on the
papers." 

"Och, get out of here, both of you," and Cowley watched them beat a hasty
retreat from his office. 

Once in the car and heading for the Isle of Dogs, Bodie looked across at
Doyle. 

"He must've been in a better mood than we thought. I could have sworn we
were in for more than just picking up Shorty, Super-sleuth, Collins." 

"Yeah, that's what the briefing sounded like, didn't it? He seemed to
change his mind half way through... He was staring at us for ages - d'you
think he knows?" 

"About us? Yeah, I expect he's guessed. Practically a mind-reader, that
bloke." 

"So why the easy job instead of a weekend stake-out?" Doyle looked a
little worried. 

"Dunno, mate. Love's young dream turning him soft in the head, perhaps. It
must have been your sweet smile that did it. Hey, d'you think
he's...um...that way inclined as well? Never married, has he?" This earned
Bodie a mock punch on the arm and he subsided, laughing softly to himself,
unable to remember when he'd last felt this happy and relaxed. 

By early afternoon they had found their prospective informant and after
some initial resistance, managed to manoeuvre him - gingerly - onto the
back seat of Bodie's car. 

It felt like a long way back to Whitehall from the Isle of Dogs and Bodie
was conscious of every evil-smelling second of it. 

Catching sight of his grimacing face, Doyle grinned. "I'd've thought your
mercenary days would've prepared you for this. Didn't the steamy jungle
make everyone a bit ripe?" 

"Yeah, but not to this level. Phew!" 

"I'm immune to it, myself. My days as a - " 

"Beat copper,"Bodie finished for him. "I might've known. You really
managed to cram a lot of experience into those few years, didn't you,
Raymond?" he said provocatively, then threw a disgusted look over his
shoulder. "Well, I wish em joy of this one back at base!" 

They spent the next couple of hours kicking their heels, waiting for
Cowley to return, only to be told when he did that they could go home. An
early start to the weekend couldn't be better, so they made themselves
scarce, half afraid that Cowley would begin to regret his new benevolence
and recall them. 

Pulling the car up outside his flat, Bodie paused then said casually, "You
coming in?" 

"No...I've got plans for tonight, mate." 

Taken aback, Bodie turned to look at his partner's serious profile. 

Doyle tried to keep up the pretence a bit longer but the joy running
through his veins wouldn't let him. Looking into the dark blue eyes and
laying a hand on Bodie's shoulder, he said, "So I'll pick you up at eight,
okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he slid his hand briefly down
Bodie's arm and got out of the car. 

Bodie stayed where he was, watching his partner drive away then, shaking
his head, he got out and went into his flat. He wondered whether or not to
bother with a meal and decided against it. With any luck, they'd be eating
out. What did Ray have in mind, though? Bodie had imagined they'd spend
the evening in...together. Well, whatever the plans were, maybe a kip was
a good idea - it could be a busy night, one way or another. 

However much Doyle may have wanted to spend the entire evening in with
Bodie, some streak of perversity was making him prolong the anticipation.
He had meant it, too, when he'd said he had plans for tonight. There was
somewhere he'd wanted...longed...to take Bodie for years and it would be
very enjoyable...as long as Bodie's acceptance of Doyle's gayness didn't
waver at all. 

At eight o'clock on the dot he arrived at Bodie's flat, smiling as his
partner stood back to let him in, watching the dark eyes travelling over
his hair and clothes. 

Bodie took in the rust-coloured velvet jeans, rust and green check shirt
and noted the way the cream wool blouson jacket was fastened only at the
waist, sleeves pushed up. Finally meeting Doyle's eyes, he let his own
reveal his thoughts - he found Doyle a stunning and incredibly sexy
figure. 

"You look great," he murmured. "Apart from the black eye, that is!"
Stepping forward, he ruffled Doyle's hair a little. "You've been
blow-drying your hair again, Raymond." 

Doyle closed the space between them, slipping his arms around Bodie's
waist. "Mmm, d'you like it?" he asked softly. 

Bodie looked serious. "I dunno. I miss all those tatty curls." 

"You do that once more," Doyle said, grabbing the straying fingers, "and
they'll all be back. You can untidy them as much as you like...later." His
mouth captured Bodie's and he heard the gasp of pleasure as Bodie opened
his mouth and felt the probing tongue. 

Feeling his resolve to go out beginning to weaken, Doyle forced himself to
draw back and after a second managed to focus his eyes on Bodie's face.
Amazing how soft those cynically twisted lips could be, he thought. He
looked into the desire-darkened eyes for a long moment and saw them drop
to his own mouth as Bodie tried to pull him back into his embrace. 

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head and drawing determinedly away. "We're
going out." Bodie advanced on him, equally determined, wanting more of
that intoxication. "No, really, Bodie, I mean it. We're going out." 

Bodie let him go. "Tease," he grumbled and shrugged into his new red suede
jacket as Doyle stood waiting at the door. 

Their first stop was a Berni Inn. Not part of the night's celebrations,
Doyle explained, more necessity than pleasure. They both ordered steaks,
Doyle countermanding Bodie's request for chips, substituting salad
instead. At the plaintive protest, Doyle told him the meal was needed more
for energy than as a filler-up. As they were off out on the town somewhere
and not heading back to bed, Bodie couldn't understand this and sat back
with his pint of lager, relieved he was at least allowed a decent drink. 

Just before ten o'clock, Ray drew the car to a halt in a dimly lit street,
stopped the engine and looked at his partner. 

"It's in the next street. This is the closest you can park on a Friday
night. I haven't been here for a while but unless it's changed
drastically, it's a pretty snazzy place. They keep someone on the door to
check people out, so there's rarely any trouble. I think you'll enjoy
it...well, I hope you will." 

Puzzled by the sudden gabble of words, Bodie tried to see Doyle's
expression but it was too dark. The last sentence had been hesitant,
unsure and Bodie wondered where on earth Ray could be taking him. 

"Well, we won't know that till we get there," he replied softly, "So let's
go, huh?" 

They walked along the pavement and turned the corner into another equally
dim and quiet street. Halfway along it, Doyle turned in through a
wrought-iron gate and led the way down a flight of steps to a basement
where a bright blue neon sign proclaimed the name of Orion's'. 

Mystified, Bodie followed him in. Just inside the door there stood a
burly-looking bouncer who eyed them both suspiciously but Doyle whispered
a few words to the man, showing him a membership card, which seemed to
satisfy him and he waved them through. After paying for their entrance
tickets at the kiosk, they walked along a shadowy corridor and Bodie could
hear the beat of pop music growing louder. A club...or a disco...? The
passageway opened into a large, circular room, containing a central bar
surrounded by dimly lit tables and chairs and discreet alcoves with soft
seating set back into the walls. 

"I'll get them," Bodie said, making for the bar. "You go and find us a
seat." 

Doyle wandered round the bar, looking for a vacant table. He found one on
the far side of the bar from Bodie, near an archway that led onto the
disco floor. 

Bodie emerged through the crowd, carried the drinks to the table and sat
down, looking with interest through the archway. That room was also
circular and filled with gyrating bodies lit by rainbow flashes from the
turning, twisting lights mounted on ceiling and walls. 

"And I thought I knew all the nightclubs and discos around London," Bodie
commented above the thump of the music. 

Doyle sat back, eyes on his partner's face, waiting for the penny to drop
and wondering if he'd made another mistake. Bit late now to worry about it
and anyway, they didn't *have* to stay. But his feet were already
beginning to twitch in time to the beat and he glanced longingly at the
dancing throng then back at Bodie. 

Taking a healthy swig of beer, Bodie automatically scanned the dance floor
for girls. There were surprisingly few of them and those he could see were
dancing together. So were the men... He put his glass down and looked
again. There were two or three groups of mixed dancers but the majority
were same-sex couples. 

Bodie looked at Doyle. "Ray...?" he said questioningly, cocking his head
towards the disco floor. There was no reply and Doyle's face was in
shadow. 

Suddenly the music changed to a slower, more seductive tempo and it drew
Bodie's eyes to the dancers again. He studied the men curiously. Most wore
jeans and t-shirts but a few were bare-legged, dressed in shorts and
equally skimpy tops. They were all very relaxed and loose-limbed and there
was an open sexuality about their movements that was strangely attractive.


The realisation that this was a gay disco slowly coalesced in Bodie's
mind, but oddly he didn't feel disturbed by it. He'd always imagined these
places to be rather sordid and, well, embarrassing, but this wasn't. He
almost laughed aloud at the thought of tough-guy Bodie sitting in a gay
bar, watching a gay disco, but somehow the atmosphere here made
homosexuality seem quite ordinary and everyday - just another facet of
human nature. 

Watching closely, Doyle saw Bodie's surprise turn to fascination and then
amusement. His stomach was churning - the butterflies were on the attack
again. He tried to relax and let the music wash over him, telling himself
not to be so stupid - so far Bodie had been more open-minded and accepting
than he'd thought possible. He jumped slightly as Bodie turned and leaned
towards him. 

"Ray, I know I said I'd never tried being gay, but this wasn't exactly
what I had in mind!" 

"D'you want to leave?" 

"Leave?" Bodie grinned at him. "Hell, no - I want a dance!" And to Doyle's
astonishment, Bodie stood up, stripped off his jacket, draped it over the
chair, then reached to pull his partner to his feet, towing him out onto
the dance floor. 

Doyle followed meekly, stunned. Was there no end to this man's surprises?
Both of them had succeeded in shocking each other speechless today. 

As Bodie led the way around the edge of the floor, the music changed again
and Doyle recognised a track by Imagination' - a hotly sexual sound and
one of his personal favourites. He pulled away from Bodie's grip on his
arm and backed slowly away from him, moving sensuously in time with the
music. Bodie watched as the swaying, turning figure moved out onto the
dance floor, caught by the glow in those irresistible green eyes that were
telling him to let go and forget everyone else. He followed, drawn like a
magnet to its lodestone, feeling the rhythm beginning to take over. 

Mouthing the words of the song to himself, Doyle closed his eyes for a
moment, thinking that perhaps the dark-clad figure before him *was* Just
an Illusion' but when he looked again, Bodie was still there, his
movements becoming gradually less self-conscious as he began to enjoy
himself. 

They danced to record after record, Doyle carelessly discarding his own
jacket and unfastening another shirt button in the heat, impatient to
return to a world that held only lights, stirring music and Bodie - a
combination he'd waited too long to see. 

As the current record faded, Doyle moved in close to his partner but Bodie
suddenly turned away from him, head bowed and shoulders stooping a little.
Concerned, Doyle put a hand on Bodie's shoulder and to his alarm, felt it
shaking. Grasping the other arm, he turned the man to face him,
desperately trying to see his face and discover what was wrong. 

"Bodie...what is it?" 

The trembling increased but then his partner lifted his head to reveal a
grin wide enough to split his face in two and the suppressed laughter
turned to cackles as Bodie grabbed Doyle and spun him round. 

"Over there," he said and Doyle looked just in time to catch sight of a
very fair young man dressed in the briefest of gold lame outfits,
complemented by a gold spangled headband and a garter round one slim
thigh. 

Bodie bent to his partner's ear. "I...oh God!" he wheezed. "I've just
thought - if I'd worn that black underwear for real... *here*...I'd've
gone down a storm!" He rested his head on Doyle's shoulder, laughing out
of control. 

Chuckling, happy that Bodie could at last see the hilarity in that stupid,
doctored photograph, Doyle turned to face him. Just then, the strains of a
slow and dreamy piece filled the room and Doyle put his arms around his
partner, pulling him close, turning his face into Bodie's neck. 

His face muscles aching a little, Bodie took a deep breath, the offending
lacy, black underwear forgotten at the feel of Doyle's lithe body swaying
close against him. He lifted his head and looked around, suddenly
remembering where they were but seeing that the other dancers were equally
as involved and preoccupied with their own partners, turned back to Doyle,
sliding his hands down the muscular back, finally bringing them to rest
cupping the slim buttocks, enjoying the feel of them under velvety fabric.


Moaning softly, Doyle moved his head to kiss Bodie's neck, searching out
the fast-beating pulse and pressing his tongue against it. Bodie tilted
his head encouragingly and unable to resist the invitation, Doyle fastened
his teeth in the soft flesh, sucking and biting at once. 

The flashing lights had dimmed to a soft flicker and when Doyle drew back
he could barely see Bodie. Touching the bite-bruise with a gentle finger,
he whispered, "I've marked you..." He sighed shakily. "Bodie, come home
with me?" 

Bodie touched his mouth to Doyle's ear. "I don't think I can, sweetheart,"
he whispered regretfully. "You see...my mum made me promise always to be
in bed by midnight." 

Doyle grinned back at him and gave the broad shoulders an admonitory
shake, murmuring, "Oh, you will be, sunshine, you will be - I'll see to
that." 

The last notes of the ballad were fading, so before the bright lights
returned, Doyle drew Bodie's head down for a kiss, working his mouth
gently against the soft lips. They opened readily for him, asking for his
tongue and he gave it, eager for the feel and taste of that mouth again. 

Bodie let the moist invader search for a moment then reached out with his
own tongue, sliding it wetly against Doyle's, thinking giddily that he
would be content to stay like that for hours. 

No girl had ever made him feel like this. No matter how strong the
attraction or how much he tried to lose himself in soft femininity, a part
of him had always stood back, watching dispassionately, as though he were
two people and the sensible, calculating half wouldn't integrate with his
other, sensual, self-indulgent side. 

Now...now, he was functioning as one, his inner voice silent, the two
sides blending harmoniously, merged together by the feel of the bewitching
being in his arms. 

Foggily realising the lights were up again, flashing in time to a livelier
beat and that they were being jostled slightly by the other dancers, Bodie
pulled reluctantly away, whispering, "Come on, love, time to go home." 

He led the way back to their table, hotly aware of his growing erection
and the knowing smiles around them. 

The journey back to Doyle's flat was very hazy for both of them. Doyle in
particular driving purely by instinct as Bodie's hand caressed his thigh.
The warm touch made Doyle's nerves jump, constantly expecting the
exploration to continue, but Bodie wanted to get home quickly and safely
and wasn't going to risk distracting the driver too much. Besides, he
wanted the time and place to be exactly right before either of them went
any further, wanted to see Doyle's every response to each caress. 

Doyle shut and locked his front door behind them then turned to snap the
hall light on but before he could reach it he was pushed back against the
door and held in place by a heavy body. A pair of demanding lips descended
on his and he relaxed every muscle, letting Bodie's weight hold him up. 

He felt warm breath brush his skin as his partner drew back and sighed
heavily. 

"Ray..." Bodie began in a deep and serious tone, "...I must have a pee -
it was bloody thirsty work in that disco!" 

Doyle groaned and shoved him away. "Come on, then...we'll both go up" And
he led the way across the hall and up the spiral staircase. 

All the way up, Bodie was faced with the enticing vision of Doyle's
posterior moving in front of him. Finally giving way to temptation, he ran
his hands over the velvet-covered roundness, making Doyle stumble and
nearly trip over the top step. 

"Bloody hell," he yelped. "You tryin' to make me break my flamin' neck?" 

"I would've stopped your fall," Bodie assured him and found himself pushed
in the direction of Doyle's bathroom, with instructions to have a shower
while he was in there. 

"There are clean towels and a bathrobe behind the door," Doyle said,
disappearing into the bedroom. 

Doyle heard the bathroom door close and stood motionless for a while,
again trying to calm the assaulting butterflies, then moved slowly across
the floor to gaze unseeingly out of the window, losing all track of time. 

Bodie's welcome of his partner's feelings had been stunning enough, but
this gentle humour was a little unbalancing. Doyle had lived too long with
the underlying pain of knowing he could never be truly open with anyone
and no one would ever see the whole Ray Doyle - no one that mattered,
anyway - that he couldn't match Bodie's lighthearted manner. He didn't
*want* to be so deadly serious but his feelings were too intense to allow
his sense of humour through. 

He looked up at the starlit sky, drawing a deep breath. *Well, you've
finally got him where you've wanted for so long, * he told himself. *So,
what's the matter? Why so nervous? I should be happy instead of
questioning it, worrying about it. Funny - I'd always imagined it would be
me reassuring Bodie, not the other way around... * 

Muscles stiffened suddenly as two hands touched his shoulders, pulling him
back against a sturdy body. He tried to relax in the embrace as Bodie
nuzzled against an ear, but the atmosphere of warm, slow arousal he'd felt
on the dance floor had evaporated and, panicked, he pulled away from the
solid warmth at his back. 

"I need a leak, myself," he muttered and made for the bathroom. 

After relieving himself, Doyle refastened his clothes, his mind an odd
blank. Slowly it occurred to him that he should shower too and he began
unbuttoning his shirt. *Fresh towels...airing cupboard... * he thought
vaguely. He started for the door then halted. 

*Bodie'll be lying in wait - the way his hands have been roving, he can't
wait to get started. * The thought pleased him for a second then his guts
tightened again, as if a huge hand was slowly squeezing the life from him.


*Can't go out there... Too serious...scare people off that way. Can't
louse it up now... * He turned back to the basin, gripped it and looked
into the mirror. *You fucking idiot, * he told his reflection flatly. *You
can't face him, can you? The one person you've been able to trust with
your *life*...for years...you still can't level with him. Too used to
hiding that side of yourself, too used to sneaking around with one-night
stands, never staying with anyone all night, not even talking much...just
getting down to the essentials, what's strictly necessary to keep mind and
body together. Except it never was enough. * His head dropped, heavy with
depression as the bitter, doubting thoughts continued to nag at him. 

*Is it yourself you don't trust...or is it Bodie? Maybe it would've been
better to keep it a dream - a beautiful, desirable, *impossible* dream.
It's unlikely the real thing will live up to that - can't expect
perfection from real life. And he can't really want me...can he? * 

Abruptly, the thoughts slid to a halt as he recalled the passion that had
erupted in him that morning in Bodie's kitchen and again in the disco,
each time repaid in full by Bodie's eager responsiveness. 

*To hell with it! Who wants perfection? What we generate is enough...
Stuff the nerves. What I need is out there, right now - waiting for me. * 

Bodie had watched, puzzled, as Doyle had left the room, then he threw
himself on the bed, arms behind his head and considered the tension he'd
felt in his partner's body. Something was troubling Doyle, in fact, he
could swear the guy was nervous. He glanced towards the door - when Doyle
reappeared, Bodie was going to make him forget all that. He closed his
eyes, a smile curving his lips, anticipation sending hot, tingly threads
through his body, making him feel alert and alive right down to his toes
and fingertips. 

He lay there for ten minutes or so then glanced at the door again. It was
too quiet - not a sound was coming from the bathroom - he'd heard the
toilet flush but after that, nothing. He swung himself off the bed and
padded quietly to the bathroom door, listening intently. What on earth
could Doyle be doing in there? Bodie stealthily turned the handle and
pushed the door open, then stood still on the threshold, staring at the
dejected figure standing before the basin, despondency evident in every
line of the hunched body. Without being aware of moving, Bodie crossed the
floor and reached out to turn the silent figure towards him. 

Doyle jumped at the gentle touch on his shoulders and gazed, startled,
into concerned, dark blue depths. 

Bodie stared back, seeing confusion and a trace of fear in the wide eyes,
and realised that far from being sure of himself, Doyle was afraid to take
the final step towards their new relationship. His own worry drained away,
replaced by an aching tenderness. 

*Can I really mean so much to him that he's that scared of it all going
wrong? Got to stop this insecurity...unhappiness. * 

"Ray," he said softly, locking with the searching green gaze again. "Come
to bed with me?" 

Something seemed to give in Doyle at the simple request, for he suddenly
reached out to drag Bodie's head towards him. But gentleness was needed
between them now and wanting to reassure Doyle and calm him enough to
enjoy their first lovemaking, Bodie caught the intense face between his
hands, holding it away. He let his eyes wander over Ray's face, ignoring
the bewilderment for a moment, concentrating on the slightly flared
nostrils, the parted lips. 

Something strange was happening to Bodie - not a physical arousal...not
yet... His entire chest felt as if it was liquifying, softening, melting
in the tenderness he was experiencing for this man, spreading its warmth
through his body, making his forearms ache with wanting. He drew Ray
slowly towards him, saw the green eyes drift shut in anticipation and
homed in on the soft lips, drawing Ray fully into his arms, putting as
much reassurance and love into the kiss as he could manage. 

Doyle felt the tenseness vanish as if it had never been and when Bodie
drew back, smiled sheepishly at him, letting himself be guided back to the
bedroom. 

He stood quietly as Bodie began unbuttoning his shirt, then suddenly found
his voice. 

"Uh...I haven't showered yet." 

Bodie shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're clean enough for me." He
grinned into the serious face. "We'll have one together in a little
while..okay?" He drew the shirt away, dropping it on the floor, not taking
his eyes off the still figure before him. Equally gently, he unzipped the
jeans and slid them down unresisting legs. Socks quickly followed and
while down on one knee, Bodie peeled the last remaining item down,
encouraging Doyle to lift each foot in turn to allow the briefs to be
discarded. Still Doyle didn't move and Bodie sat back on his heels,
letting his eyes rove over the slim, muscular form, lingering over the mop
of ruffled curls and intent face - its oddly flawed cheekbone strangely
emphasised in the dim light cast by the bedside lamp - and on down to the
shoulders. The dark pelt of chest hair drew his eyes and he followed it
down to where it narrowed to a thin, black line over the belly to groin,
before massing again into tight, black curls about the genitals. 

Doyle watched Bodie's unabashed gaze travel over his body and as it
reached his groin, felt his cock lengthen and thicken and his breathing
harshened. 

Bodie felt his own organ reacting in kind, pressing him to do more than
just look and he leant forward to plant a kiss on the abdomen, just where
the coarse, pubic hair began, hearing a gasp and feeling the belly muscles
jump in answer. Suddenly, hands pulled him roughly to his feet, fumbled
with the tie of his robe, throwing it wide and a hot, urgent body was
pressed to his own nakedness, arms tightening till muscles cracked under
the strain. Mouths also glued themselves together in a hard and grinding
kiss, containing no real passion or tenderness, only desperation. Bodie
tried to move his mouth gently, coaxing tenderness out of the demanding
lips and gradually the fierceness died away, Ray's mouth slowly softened,
began to enjoy the kiss for the voluptuous, intimate contact that it was.
The grip on Bodie's back slackened and the hands began light, skimming
caresses, over his shoulder blades, down to his waist, smoothly changing
direction until one long sweep took them down to stroke silkily over his
ass. Bodie's deep-throated moan changed to a shocked gasp as a gentle
finger strayed down between his buttocks, sliding delicately into the
crevice to touch the hidden pucker of muscle. Feeling his cock surge up in
response to the erotic fingering, he had to wrench his mouth away from
Doyle's to gasp in the extra oxygen his lungs were demanding. 

Awed by the inflamed response to his touch, Doyle gazed into his partner's
face, seeing in the flushed features, closed eyes and parted lips, ample
proof that Bodie was more than willing to experience every pleasure they
could find in each other. Instead of fear and rejection, there was an
abandonment in Bodie, an implicit desire to know his partner in all ways. 

Overwhelmed by the evidence his eyes and hands were being given, Doyle
felt his knees wobble dangerously and decided the bed would be a far safer
venue for their loving. He urged Bodie towards it, drawing the bathrobe
off the broad shoulders, and sank onto the mattress, pulling his partner
down with him. Holding the dark eyes with his own, Doyle ran his fingers
lightly across Bodie's shoulders and down over the smooth chest. The
nipples hardened excitingly and Doyle bent to taste first one then the
other, before drawing back to dart a glance at the absorbed face, then
allowing his eyes to follow the path his hand was taking on down over the
hard, muscular body. 

Body held his breath as the warm fingers tickled over his belly and
hovered teasingly over his hardened shaft then, without touching, moved on
to feather-kiss his testicles, lightly brushing the tiny, black hairs
until Bodie's nerves screamed for a firmer touch but as he reached out to
grab Doyle, the fingers curled round his cock and a soft mouth closed over
his lips, stifling his moan of pleasure. 

Bodie lay in a sea of delicious sensation for a moment then his need to
see and feel Doyle's responses drove him to pull away and tumble Doyle
onto his back. He worked his way over the quiescent body, delighting in
the silkiness of the body hair and the strength of corded muscle trembling
but submissive beneath him. Running his hands down Doyle's torso and
flanks, he pushed the legs apart and paused in appreciation of satin-soft
inner thighs. A quick glance up at Doyle's face slowed eyes tight shut in
quivering expectancy and Bodie abruptly cupped his hand over the balls,
enjoying the gasp and reactionary jump that ran along Doyle's body. He
relaxed, letting the delicate contents lie softly in his open palm for a
moment before turning his hand again to cover them completely, feeling the
furry sacs tighten under his moving fingers. Not wanting to let go, he
brought his other hand up to grasp the tumescent cock, stroking gently.
The genitals felt incredibly good to him, warm and vibrant, their pulsing
fullness leading his own arousal to an almost painful intensity. 

A sob and his whispered name percolated through he fuzziness and he bent
to press a swift kiss on the rosy cock before moving back up the bed to
gather his lover into his arms and turn them both on their sides, wanting
this first lovemaking to be a perfect sharing. He pulled Doyle's hips
close and initiated a steady undulating, but Doyle needed a deeper, harder
touch and turned on his back, urging Bodie to lie on top, curving his legs
around his partner to hold him in place. Bodie gasped at the feel of the
open, clinging body under his and began to thrust, the sensations rapidly
sending them both to dizzy heights. 

Feeling the blood pounding in his head as he soared to the summit, Bodie
desperately wanted to touch Doyle with his mouth. He lay quick kisses up
the other's neck and tried to reach his mouth but Doyle's head was rolling
from side to side as he thrust to meet the exquisite pressure. Sparing one
hand, Bodie captured the flushed face and clamped his mouth over the soft
lips, plunging his tongue deep inside. Doyle's moan of pleasure at the
invasion was abruptly cut off as the almost unbearable sensations peaked,
holding them together on the crest for a second, then swept them down,
down on a tidal wave, tumbling them over until eventually they lay
floating in a sea of tranquility, contented and fulfilled. 

After long seconds of wallowing in physical well-being and mental bliss,
Doyle turned his head to look at his partner. Bodie still lay on his back,
where he'd fallen, eyes closed, breath still coming quickly. Doyle didn't
attempt to touch, just gazed his fill at the relaxed figure. What had he
worried about, he wondered. It hadn't been necessary to spell out what he
wanted - that one of his strongest desires had been to experience Bodie's
powerful body above his, taking, thrusting strongly, instead of lying by
his side, gentle and undemanding - Bodie had known and been as eager
himself. No, it was nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, that was only one
of his fantasies... His breath caught at the thought of what he wanted to
do to Bodie and have done to him and fresh trickles of desire rose to fill
his groin again. 

On a huge and contented sigh, Bodie opened his eyes and turned towards
Doyle, pulling him back into his arms, kissing him gently and running a
hand down his body. Bodie smiled as he found the stickiness pooled on the
belly, then his fingers encountered the stiffened cock and he stilled for
a second before taking Doyle's mouth in a passionately demanding kiss,
deepening his exploration. 

Doyle started to curve his body against Bodie's then, conscious of how
sweaty and sticky he felt, pulled away, irrationally wanting his skin to
be clean enough for Bodie to eat off, needing this point in their
discovery of each other to be as perfect as possible. Bodie tried to pull
him back but Doyle caught one of the reaching hands and urged him out of
bed. 

"I want that shower now...come with me?" 

"Ray," Bodie moaned in protest but Doyle towed him relentlessly across the
carpet before turning to survey him from head to foot. 

"Don't lose it," he said, nodding at Bodie's newly awakened erection. "We
haven't finished yet." 

"If I do," came the deep and seductive reply, "I'm sure you'll find it
again quickly." And he manoeuvred behind Doyle, pressing himself against
the smooth back, feeling his cock rub into the hot cleft between Doyle's
buttocks. 

Doyle gasped and sagged back into his arms. "In a minute,
Bodie...w.wash...first...aahh...!" The curly head dropped back onto
Bodie's shoulder and no more attempts were made to pull away. 

Heart thudding at the almost-promise, Bodie fought back his fierce longing
for that coupling and turned Doyle to face him. He looked into the hazy,
heavy-lidded eyes, kissed him gently and led him by the hand to the
bathroom. 

The cooler air cleared Doyle's head a little and he switched the shower
on, stood underneath and let Bodie soap him all over. Bodie's hands were
thorough, lathering over chest and stomach, gentle over hardened shaft and
testicles, then turning the panting body to perform the same service down
his back. 

As the water rinsed the bubbles away, Doyle reached back to cup both hands
over Bodie's genitals. Bodie thrust forward, tilting his head back, and
gasped as he received a mouthful of cascading warm water. He stepped back,
coughing and spluttering. Doyle turned quickly, concerned, but chuckled
when he was Bodie was all right, told him to stay put and went to fetch
more towels. 

Wrapped in soft, voluminous towelling, they padded into the bedroom, then
Doyle remembered something and went back into the bathroom. 

Bodie jumped him from behind the door when he got back, clamping strong
arms around his chest and murmuring, "Now, where did we get to?" in his
ear. 

Doyle squirmed away from the tickling breath. "Can't you remember?" he
retorted breathlessly. 

Bodie grabbed him again but trod on the end of a towel, over-balanced and
fell, taking Doyle down with him. They stayed where they were, giggling,
then Bodie advanced meaningly on Doyle, who edged away awkwardly, muscles
weakened by laughter. 

"No, Bodie. On the bed...it'll be better on the bed..." 

Pulse leaping again, Bodie drew his partner upright, cupping his face in
gentle hands."What will, Ray? What d'you want me to do?" he whispered
hoarsely. 

Hesitancy and shyness vanished completely, the words coming of their own
accord. 

"Take me... I want you to...fuck me...Bodie..." A long, ragged breath.
"You want to, don't you?" 

Fiercely aroused by the words, Bodie didn't reply, just gave him a
clouded, languorous stare, drew the towels away and closed his arms around
Doyle. 

Too late Doyle saw the spark of mischief warring with desire in the indigo
eyes, found himself grabbed again and swung up into strong arms. Bodie
held him for a moment, ignoring his demands to be put down, then walked to
the bed, laid him in the middle and climbed on after him, trying to secure
Doyle's hands above his head. 

Laughing protests had no effect so Doyle thought two could play at that
game and a mock wrestling match ensued, but hearing his bed springs
creaking ominously, decided to put an end to the horseplay and pulled
himself free. He turned swiftly, anchored Bodie to the bed with arms
across thighs and belly and engulfed the bobbing penis with his mouth. 

Bodie cried out, convulsing in electrified shock as the warm, wet suction
accelerated him to flashpoint almost immediately. He lay under the
restraining arms, half of him wanting to stay there until he came in
great, rushing bursts in Ray's mouth, the other half longing to be buried
elsewhere in the hot, strong body. 

*Any second now, * he thought dazedly, *it's gonna be too late... * 

But Doyle was gauging his reactions exactly and drew gently away,
untangling the gripping fingers from his hair and kissing them softly. 

Now the moment had arrived, Bodie found himself strangely unsure and
looked to Doyle for guidance. 

Ray gave him a soft, reassuring kiss and pulled away to reach over to the
bedside table. A few seconds and he was back, stroking a jelly-like
substance onto Bodie's aching penis. Bodie gasped at the gentle touch,
feeling the flames leap higher. When he opened his eyes again, Doyle was
preparing himself and Bodie felt as if his heart was ready to jump into
his mouth. Not knowing if it was from nervousness or excitement and
uncaring either way, he pushed Doyle's hands away and ran a forefinger
between the soft buttocks until it found the ring of muscle. 

Doyle gasped at the touch, feeling himself pulse and dilate eagerly.
Tentatively, the finger entered him and he groaned heavily, writhing back
against it. 

"Bodie...please..." he whispered pleadingly. 

Unable to speak, he was panting so rapidly, Bodie pulled the slim body
back against him, replacing his fingers with his so-sensitive cock, gently
inserting the head. 

Doyle cried out at the first touch, pushing himself back, but Bodie
restrained him, afraid of causing pain. 

Frustrated at being unable to move very much in that position, Doyle
gradually eased onto his stomach, feeling the warm weight of his partner
covering him as he followed. 

Foggily comprehending what Ray wanted, Bodie drew back slightly to allow
Doyle to raise himself on his elbows. Suddenly, Doyle pushed back onto the
impaling organ, hearing a long gasp as Bodie felt himself taken fully into
the hot body. 

Knowing he wouldn't last long, Bodie began to thrust, running his hands
frenziedly along Doyle's back and under him to grasp the straining
maleness. 

Wanting the moment to last forever but knowing it wouldn't, Doyle met each
thrust avidly, savouring the feel of Bodie deep within him. 

All too soon there was a long groan and Doyle felt a hot rush inside him,
filling him, expanding through his body to burst out of his own organ in a
never-ending gush. 

Bodie collapsed on the warm back, half unconscious with the intensity of
physical and emotional excitement, then felt himself slide down onto the
bed and two shaking arms gathered him in against a heaving chest. 

He could hardly keep his eyes open, but struggled to speak, needing to
tell Ray how good it had been before sleep took him fully. 

"Ray..." he panted. "Jesus...I never knew...it could be...so..." but
darkness reached out before he could finish and he let go, sinking into
the swirling current. 

Ray felt him relax into sleep but continued to hold him tightly for a long
time, feeling the rapid breathing gradually slowing into a deep, quiet
rhythm. 

He was reluctant to let him go, this amusing, infuriating, handsome,
*loving* being, who'd been so important to him for such a long time and
was now his sole reason for living. 

Arms beginning to ache with tension, he lowered Bodie gently back onto the
pillows, wishing his partner had had strength enough for a kiss before
dropping so deeply asleep. Doyle pressed his own caress against the full
and relaxed lips, then feeling total exhaustion overtaking, switched the
lamp off, put his head on Bodie's shoulder and fell into his own deep and
dreamless slumber. 

He awoke slowly, rising smoothly through layers of awareness, the
transition so gradual he was confused momentarily, as if half caught in a
dream, until one tiny movement alerted each nerve to the pressure of a
warm, sleeping body against his, arms holding him close. 

It *was* real, he hadn't dreamt it. 

Wishing it was light enough to see his lover, Doyle softly employed
fingertips to reassure himself of Bodie's presence, running them over the
forehead, into silky hair and down to lightly trace an ear. 

At the tickling touch, Bodie murmured something and tightened his arms. 

Not wanting him to wake just yet, Doyle lay still, remembering. 

*One more fantasy... Dare I? Or should I wait? Why expect it all tonight?
Another time... Oh, God, I want it...want *him*. He'll have to stop me if
it's too much...Jesus, hope he won't. * 

Before he could talk himself out of the attempt, Doyle reached for the
lubricant and prepared them both, stroking it quickly between his
partner's buttocks, hearing a deep mumble in the pillow as he did so. 

Using all the touches Bodie had given him and a few more of his own, he
caressed the slumbering body to wakefulness. This time, however, Doyle
didn't simply seek to arouse his lover's burning desire to take, he
alternated the gentle, teasing touches with harder, more demanding strokes
over back and buttocks, pressing fingers fleetingly into the cleft then
away again, until, with a lift of his hips, Bodie indicated he wanted to
be touched there. 

Pushing Bodie's legs apart gently, bending one knee to ease his way, Doyle
rimmed him tantalizingly, waiting for another groan of pleasure before
pressing a finger slowly in, stroking the smooth, hot walls, feeling them
relax gradually. 

Bodie wordlessly asked for more but Doyle withdrew and turned him onto his
back, began caressing him again, using lips, tongue and teeth, taking
Bodie to the point of desperation. He called out Ray's name in a gasping
whisper, knowing in the back of his mind where this delicious torture was
leading, but totally unconcerned. It felt right for Ray to be in control,
demanding, taking, and recklessly, Bodie called for the next stop. 

Hearing the urgent plea, Doyle drew back until he was kneeling between
Bodie's legs. He ran his hands soothingly along their muscled length and
gently lifted them onto his shoulders. 

Bodie tensed at the unfamiliar position, suddenly thankful it was still
dark and Doyle couldn't see him. He felt too open...vulnerable...strange. 

"Ray...I..." he said hesitantly. 

Doyle lowered the legs again and leant forward, easing the stiffness away
with warm hands. 

"Bodie," he whispered softly. "It's okay...won't hurt you...I know how to
make it very pleasurable. Trust me.. I love you..." He kissed Bodie
deeply, sensually, and to his joy, felt the mouth open, taking his tongue,
indicating a willingness to give everything Doyle wanted to take. 

He made the kiss slow and prolonged until Bodie relaxed completely, then
drew back to try again, this time encountering no resistance. Heart
thudding deafeningly in his ears, he entered Bodie, pausing often to let
him grow used to the feelings. At last he was buried to the hilt and
stilled, concentrating on the glorious sensations of the tight, hot
channel clenching along the length of his cock. 

His body was urging him to thrust, to take his own pleasure swiftly, but
he controlled it, wanting to show Bodie how good it could be. He eased the
legs off his shoulders and back onto the bed either side of him, letting
Bodie's lower body rest on his lap. He rose to his knees, lifting Bodie
with him, hands cupping the round ass, feeling Bodie's heels dig into the
bed behind him. Doyle withdrew as far as he dared, paused, then pushed in
slowly, on a slight angle. 

Bodie drew a quick and shuddering breath at the unexpected pleasure that
rippled through him. 

"Ohhh...Christ, Ray..." Fingers dug into the bedding in delight as Ray
continued to thrust, breath keeping time, a groan following each lance of
pleasure. 

The movements accelerated and Bodie's cock felt ready to burst, begging to
be touched, held. Suddenly, fingers curled round him, pumping hard. 

Out of control, a long, low cry left his throat as he came almost
immediately in an explosion that seemed to blast him into orbit. There was
an explosion inside, too and he felt liquid fire erupt, spreading,
glowing, boosting him higher. 

The violence of the blast seemed to splinter him into a million pieces,
scattering, spinning, shivering, a blinding light reflecting off each
fragment until time slowed, stopped, reversed and each cell fused together
again and the world reformed. 

He lay panting for breath. The sheer intensity of pleasure given by that
penetration, Doyle's and his own climax, was totally beyond Bodie's
knowledge and expectations and he felt shaken, scared by the unfamiliar
feelings. 

Needing the comfort of Doyle's warm, clinging presence after the
unbelievably shattering experience, Bodie stretched out a hand for his
lover but Doyle was out of reach and he felt alone, empty. Then the bed
shook as Doyle crawled up and burrowed into his arms to lie shuddering
against him. Bodie tightened his grip, pressing his face into soft,
sweet-smelling curls. 

They held each other closely for a time then Doyle drew a deep breath.
"Oh, God," he sighed, lifting his head to look at Bodie. Dawn was
filtering through the curtains and he could just make out the dark head
against white pillow. "Bodie..." 

A gentle hand came up to brush through his hair, making him shiver,
curving round his skull to draw him in for a kiss. 

"Dear God...I love you..." Doyle made no demands, expecting nothing, just
wanting to express his own happiness, relief and love, grateful for what
he'd already been given. 

Bodie's hand continued to play through the silky-warm curls, a lump
forming in his throat at the simple, open admission. Just when his deep
caring for Ray had spilled over into love, he didn't know and wasn't about
to question it, but wanted to say something in return. He tried to find
the right words but his throat constricted further and he sought refuge in
his habitual humour, knowing it was the only way, for now, that he could
admit his feelings. 

"Ray...I feel...most...peculiar." 

Doyle propped himself up on an elbow. "Why? What's the matter?" Euphoria
dissipated by concern. 

"Think I must be sick..." He ducked his head, turning it into the pillow.
"...never felt like this before." 

Worried half to death, Doyle turned him back. "Bodie, for God's sake, what
is it?" 

"Just need to sleep," Bodie replied and sighed exaggeratedly. "You've
exhausted me!" 

Smiling in spite of himself, Doyle caressed the softly waving hair. "Is
that all it is - fagged out? Well, I never thought I'd see the day -
Bodie, listless and lustless after making love a mere three times! Either
you've been telling tales in the past, mate, or-" 

"Or," Bodie interrupted calmly. "I've never been in love before." 

There was a sudden silence, deep and heavy with meaning. 

Frozen, Doyle stared down at him, feeling the happy, teasing smile fade
under this latest bombshell. The blue eyes were serious, wide and
guileless as they stared back at him through the growing light. 

*He means it. * 

It was too much. Doyle felt dazzled by the intense emotions coursing
through him, poleaxed by the unexpectedness of the quietly spoken
confession. He blinked and bent his head then went with the gentle
pressure of Bodie's hand and lay back down, resting against the warm
chest. 

Bodie drowsed comfortably for a few minutes, loving the weight of the
sleeping body on his. Then he heard a catch in Doyle's breath as the man
settled into a deeper sleep, and his fingers ran feather-light over Ray's
face, coming away moist from the tear-track over one cheek. 

He'd never known such desperate, unspoken need in anyone and was
immeasurably pleased, not to mention awed, by the fact that he'd met it
equally, physically and emotionally. More than just met, his innate
honesty insisted, he'd had plenty of demands to make himself and now that
dark, cold void inside was filled with a bright warmth. 

He tasted the moistened finger, thinking abstractly that he had always
actively pursued his own interests, whether for money, excitement or more
carnal desires, thus believing one had at least a partial control over
one's destiny, but life could still deal out a few surprises - some of
them bad, and some good...often where you least expected... 

He yawned hugely, grinning to himself. It had certainly been the truth
when he'd admitted to being tired out. With Ray as sex-hungry as himself,
it was obvious that for a while at least, the nights just weren't gonna be
long enough! 

On that happy thought, he fell asleep. 

-- THE END --

*For Meg, who wanted to know how and where it happened, if not on the
kitchen floor! *

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