(sequel to 'BETTER LEFT UNSAID')

Doyle blinked up at his bedroom ceiling. The creeping light revealed more detail by the minute, but was too lost in his own thoughts to notice. At his side, Allie was breathing easily, blissfully unaware that her bedmate had not slept -- had lain awake trying to piece together what had happened not eight hours before ...

We weren't that drunk, Doyle protested. I knew what I was saying ... My God, could I have been that STUPID ... you don't go 'round telling other men you love 'em -- especially not someone you work with -- especially a man like BODIE ... Come Monday, he would have to face his partner's reaction ...

Would he laugh it off -- Doyle unable to hold his liquor -- or would he go to Cowley and tell him ... ? No, Bodie would sort out his own problems -- probably with his fist and then ask for reassignment ... and Doyle only had himself to blame. He supposed it was only Debbie and Allie's presence that had saved him from being shredded last night ... Except ...

"If we were born in China or Japan, we would be kissing ..." Bodie hadn't laughed; he'd looked amused, but the words had been serious when he'd spoken, and Doyle got the impression that, but for the girls, there would have been more -- Bodie might've done something ... The look in his eyes, as Doyle and Allie left, had hinted at ... If the girls hadn't been there, would Bodie've ...

The only way to find out was to ask. Suddenly, he was anxious for Allie to be gone. He looked at the bedside clock and groaned inwardly; seven was too early to throw anyone onto the street ...

---

Debbie rolled over, groping for the man she'd made love with last night. Her hand told her he'd deserted the bed, a sleepy eye confirmed it. It was early, she knew; he should be here.

Reluctantly, she roused herself and, wrapping the duvet around her naked body, trailed into the lounge. A swift glimpse of a shadow showed her that Bodie was in the kitchen. She sniffed appreciatively at the scents that drifted to her -- coffee, bacon ... Bodie's aftershave ...

The soft sound drew him into the living room, and she saw with dismay that he was fully clothed. He looked a little impatient.

"Are you throwing me out into the cold cruel day?" teased Debbie.

"Well, I was going to make you breakfast first," he conceded. "Duty calls."

"Don't I even get a kiss?" she pouted mockingly.

Grinning, Bodie touched his lips to hers once -- twice, then he patted her cotton-clad buttock.

"Now, eat, and I'll call you a taxi."

"Something's come up, hasn't it?" Debbie was suddenly serious. She knew that Bodie and his friend were on twenty-four hour stand-by; Ray had joked about it last night in the pub.

Bodie grunted noncommittally, and turned back to the kitchen to make the drinks. Something had been up all night, thanks to Doyle's unexpected declaration. The thought of holding him close, running his hands over the lean, hard muscles, stroking his fingers through silky curls ... He felt a familiar throb at his groin, and viciously willed his errant flesh to subside. He concentrated on Debbie, who was now sitting behind him at the table. It helped a little.

As soon as she was gone, he would phone his partner, make some kind of excuse to meet. It was obvious they needed to talk, and soon. If they left it till Monday, there was every likelihood that whatever Doyle had started would come between them, and threaten their friendship. If it could not be resolved, it would eventually cost them their partnership, if not their lives -- and the thought of losing Doyle to a cold damp pit, sent a chill through to his very heart.

At the table, Debbie noticed the tension in the broad shoulders; whatever had happened was obviously distressing him, but she knew better than to offer comfort to someone so wilfully independent. The best she could do was to shower, dress and leave as soon as possible.

The carefully constructed mask on Bodie's face decided her, and she gulped her coffee with unladylike haste, while he merely stood, waiting for her to go. As she rose from the table, she caught his eyes on her and for a second, she could see into his soul --

"I'm sorry." Bodie's apology was husky, sincere. The first time the real man had emerged. In a moment of communion, she knew -- what he would never have put in words -- and she leaned across the gulf between them to brush her lips over his.

"So am I," she breathed. "Just -- one of those things," she absolved. "I'll have a shower and go." She disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.

Bodie sipped his coffee slowly, hardly noticing the flavour. He would call Doyle -- tell him -- ASK him to get rid of Allie and come round ... He found himself back in the lounge, his hand hovering over the telephone ...

---

'Be there!' Doyle willed his partner. "Be there -- don't take off." In his mind, Doyle had visions of going to Bodie's flat -- finding it deserted -- Bodie, returning to the jungle ...

"Hello?"

Doyle's knees almost gave way as relief flooded through him.

"Hello?"

He managed a croaky, "Mornin', mate," and stopped. What the hell did he say next?

"How's the head?" Bodie wanted to know. Stupid question: Doyle would be fine on the amount he'd had, it would be impossible NOT to be.

"Fine." Doyle's voice was husky. Bodie felt a shiver race along his spine, and his slacks felt tight.

"What're you doin' today?" They spoke together, and Doyle laughed outright, then, "You first."

"Planned to spend the day with Debs," Bodie confessed.

"Oh!"

"She's in the bathroom at the moment, on her way out ..."

Bodie had sent her packing. Doyle felt a thrill of excitement rush through him.

"Allie's still in bed --" Taking his courage in both hands, "We need to talk, sunshine ..." There was a long pause at the other end of the line. "I can tell her I'm needed elsewhere, that something's come up -- Bodie, I want to talk to you."

"I'll be here," Bodie promised. He seriously doubted whether they would just talk. The ache in his groin demanded they get down to action -- he had wanted Doyle for a long time, and to have him within snatching distance was almost too much to bear. He couldn't afford to rush things, though, or he might lose his chance forever ... The bathroom door opened, and Bodie stepped swiftly round to hide his condition from Debbie.

"Gotta go, mate!" he breathed and hung up abruptly.

Doyle yelped as the connection broke. Debbie must've come in -- Reluctantly, he replaced the receiver, and glanced in annoyance at his own bedroom. Of all the bloody times to pick...

---

He stood outside on the pavement for a long moment, gazing up at Bodie's window. What the HELL was he doin' here? Last night, he had been happy, tipsy, and blissfully heterosexual -- then Debbie had opened her very pretty mouth, and started him thinking -- REALLY thinking -- about Bodie ...

If Bodie had laughed, Doyle knew he would've been hurt. But though Bodie had looked amused, maybe even shocked ... he hadn't laughed, and when he'd said what he had about kissing -- Doyle licked his lips unconsciously. He wondered what that mouth tasted like ... Only one way to find out ...

---

Bodie pressed the door release, still towelling his hair with the other hand. Doyle came in slowly, cautious. What he saw obviously appeased him; Bodie was in his robe, having recently stepped out of a very cold shower. He motioned Doyle to the sofa, and bathsheet over his shoulder, set about pouring the drinks.

Without a word, he handed Doyle a glass, and went to sit in the armchair where he would be no less tempted to jump his mate ... They sat in silence for another long minute.

"For God's sake, Ray," sighed Bodie, "say something!"

"What am I s'pose to say?" Doyle looked up, met his eyes. "I made a prat of myself last night, didn't I?"

Bodie frowned. He might've known it was too good to be true.

"I should never have told you. Some things are better left unsaid ..." He paused. "Can you forget it?"

"Can you?" Bodie arched one devilish eyebrow, with seeming nonchalance. The muscles in his stomach went taut, his heart pounding -- surely Ray could hear, could see what his presence was doing to him?

The glass rapped sharply against the coffee table.

"No, damn it, I can't!"

Not with you sitting there, half-naked, totally beautiful -- I want you, I want you to show me ... only you, sunshine, only you ... Doyle was on his feet, pacing the room.

Nerves, Bodie told himself and waited, tense as a watch-spring himself.

"I can't unsay it. It wouldn't be true if -- I do. I love you -- I care about you -- what happens to you -- it's just -- "

"Shock," Bodie supplied. He levered himself out of the chair, fighting to remain calm as he sought the whisky bottle. He poured another generous measure into both glasses, and took Doyle's to him, as his partner stood by the window. Their fingers touched, and Doyle glanced over his shoulder into wonderfully wicked eyes only inches away.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he asked suddenly.

"Would it work?" Bodie countered.

The thought of ending draped over Bodie's sofa and being ravaged by his partner made Doyle smile, then snigger.

"Didn't think it would!" snorted Bodie good-humouredly. "Come and sit down, mate. You look bloody awful!"

He turned, mentally crossing his fingers as he went to sit on the couch. He parked his drink on the table. Doyle sank onto the other end of the settee, and took a mouthful of whisky. Bodie waited.

"You know," Doyle began, toying with his glass. "I was awake all night, thinkin' about -- us."

Bodie wanted to scream at him.

"What about us?" He spoke quietly, needing to know that Doyle wanted what he had to give.

"What you said - if we both were born in another place and time --" Doyle tossed off the rest of his drink, and forced himself to ask the question that had brought him there. "Would you?"

"Would I what?" Come ON, Ray -- SAY IT.

"If we'd been alone, would you have kissed me?"

A strong, surprisingly gentle hand insisted on tipping Doyle's head up so their eyes met.

"Yes."

Bodie touched his lips lightly to Doyle's mouth, reining back the desire that burned through him. He heard the sharp intake of breath.

"Call that a kiss?" Doyle whispered hoarsely.

Bodie smiled.

"You want to show me what YOU had in mind?" he invited.

Doyle slid one hesitant hand round the back of Bodie's skull, and latched onto his partner's lips, pushing his tongue into Bodie's whisky flavoured mouth. Bodie took the empty glass, and put it beside his. Doyle wrapped his arms round him, hugging tight.

"Better?"

Bodie grinned.

"Keep that up, and you'll end up getting raped!"

Doyle's eyes widened. Bodie would --

"Would you?"

"Rape you?" Bodie's eyes were sparkling, as he actually considered it. "No, sunshine," he answered at length. "I wouldn't --" He saw the light in Doyle's eye die, and went on. "It's only rape if the other person is unwilling ... You want me to do it, don't you?" PLEASE, RAY, SAY YOU DO ...

Doyle responded by putting his mouth against Bodie's and pulling his partner down on top of him as he fell backwards. Bodie fed on him, leaving them both breathless.

"Come to bed with me."

Doyle looked into Bodie's eyes and knew he was lost. A brief nod, and Bodie's weight shifted off him. He followed his mate off the sofa, and allowed himself to be taken into the bedroom.

Bodie sat on the edge of the mattress, and tugged Doyle to his side. One arm circled the slim waist, the hand drawing Doyle's shirt away from his skin. Their lips met again, and Doyle felt Bodie-fingers tangling in his curls. It sent a shiver down his spine. He reached to return the compliment, carding through short dark hair ... so soft. Bodie was mumbling something, gazing on his partner's throat.

"Um?"

Bodie's mouth was pressing below his ear.

"Said, you taste good --" He pushed against Doyle, wanting to devour him. His partner sank onto the mattress. Bodie followed, wriggling to get closer, knowing his control was going. Doyle was tugging at his robe, trying to pull him on top. Bodie obligingly rolled, half-afraid of crushing his love beneath him. His erection was digging into Doyle's denim-covered thigh, and he could feel the other man's bulging crotch against him.

"On -- me --" Doyle panted, sliding his arms round his partner's neck and kissing wildly. Bodie moved to lie on him completely, and felt the rasp of hot material as Doyle bucked his hips frantically. "Bodie --"

Bodie gathered the spare frame to him, ground his pelvis rhythmically. Doyle stiffened mid-kiss and broke away, whimpering as he came. Bodie crushed Doyle to him, knowing that with a few more strokes, he'd be there, too. He was aware of the thundering of their hearts, the warmth and solidity of the body in his arms, his own aching need ... He burrowed a hand between them. When he found Doyle's fly, he drew the zip down carefully and fumbled inside. Damp cotton under his fingers -- Doyle was begging for another kiss -- he tugged the heavy fabric aside, exposing the lax genitals, then opened his robe, poking his own erection at Doyle's groin. Once, twice, and he was coming, adding to the stain on the pale underpants.

"Ray! Ray!"

Doyle's mouth on his again, tongues twining, caressing one another ... Bodie wanted more. He raised his head and gazed down at his mate. Doyle's eyes were glassy -- he looked spaced-out. Bodie unknotted his belt one-handed, balancing on Doyle. He slipped his hand up under Doyle's shirt, and was rewarded by a wriggle as his semen soaked fingers trailed over sweat-damp flesh ...

The robe slithered down powerful shoulders as Bodie sat up. Doyle let himself be stripped and concentrated on the beauty of his partner: from the cropped mane, down the handsome face, across the broad chest with its faintest suggestion of dark hair, over the pale belly to the midnight nest of his groin -- he looked his fill, seeing as if for the first time.

He put out his arms and Bodie came down on top of him, shoving against him. The warmth of naked flesh was exciting, arousing him once more. Bodie was filling out again and driving them both towards climax, urged on by Doyle's fingers digging into his shoulder. They came together, gasping for breath. Bodie unglued himself from his lover and wriggled round to lick Doyle clean.

With a heart-felt sigh, Doyle folded one arm beneath his head, trailing his free hand along his partner's flank, stroking languidly ...

By the time Bodie raised his head from his self-appointed task, Doyle's eyes were closed and the slow rhythm of his breathing told him that the other man had fallen asleep. Bodie smiled; he would tease his other half mercilessly about his lack of stamina, though, truth to tell, he was feeling drowsy himself after a sleepless night ...

Gently he manoeuvred the dead-weight of sleeping Doyle so that he could pull the covers up. Then he crawled in alongside, snuggled up and closed his eyes.

---

He came awake to find he was being used as a pillow. Doyle's head was resting comfortably against his chest and one strong arm banded his body. Bodie was holding his partner close ... Must've happened in his sleep ... It felt natural -- like they'd been designed to be together ... The thought was disquieting -- Bodie suddenly wanted to put some distance between him and his bedmate -- give himself some room to think. He squirmed out of the embrace and made for the toilet.

A few minutes grace and he returned to lean in the doorway, watching as Doyle slept on. There was an air of innocence about him, as he lay curled against the pillows ... Bodie knew every inch of that body -- in his fantasies, he had touched it, possessing it, been master of it -- but this, this was no dream: Ray Doyle really WAS in his bed ...

A warm glow was starting in the pit of Bodie's stomach, spreading to his chest as Doyle stretched and rolled onto his back. He tried to convince himself that it was lust, but the tiny move as Doyle burrowed into the spot he'd just vacated caused a lump in his throat -- he wanted to cuddle up and soothe his partner, rather than jump him, and screw him through the mattress. What's wrong with me, Bodie asked himself. There's a bloke in my bed and I'm standing here just LOOKING at him. I want to be there with him, want to be inside him, and yet .... I'm never like this with anyone -- not my birds, nor any of the other men I've slept with ...

He was standing at the foot of the bed before he realised he'd moved, gazing down at his partner. I could take you now -- you couldn't stop me: I'm heavier, stronger than you, with the element of surprise on my side -- but I don't want that. I want you to -- give -- and you would, wouldn't you? You said you love me, and you meant it. Is THAT what makes the difference? I don't know. I've never said it to anyone -- it sounds stupid -- and to say it to another man ... You've got a hell of a lot more guts than me, mate... Bodie checked himself; for the first time in his life, he was tempted to speak those words ...

Doyle rolled over, wriggled and stretched once more. He opened his eyes, meeting his colleague's troubled expression.

"Bodie, what's wrong?"

Everything was wrong -- it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Doyle held out his arms, and Bodie sank into them without question, allowing himself to be drawn to the wiry body, where he was stroked and kissed, soothed by the gentle tones ...

"I love you." The voice was husky, the words unfamiliar, but --

Bodie struggled free of Doyle's embrace for a moment to regard his partner solemnly.

"I love you, Ray."

Doyle pulled him close, back to where he belonged, and sighed contentedly.

"You don't have to say it, you know -- if it makes you feel uncomfortable. Can see it in your eyes ..."

Bodie rubbed his cheek against one brown nipple.

"Never thought I could feel this way about anyone," he confessed. "I wanted you --" He licked Doyle's breast. "I watched you sleeping ... made me feel like ..."

"Shh!" Doyle whispered into his hair. "I know. Feels funny inside. When Debbie said it last night, I didn't want to believe her. Then I looked at you, and it -- sort of -- clicked. All I wanted was to get rid of the girls, and be alone with you ... "

"Then what?" asked Bodie, instantly cursing himself for the naivete of the question.

Doyle smiled softly.

"Then you would seduce me and we'd go to bed to make love. Afterwards ..."

After they came to their senses, Bodie thought, then would come the reckoning.

" ... I'd do the same to you. We could spend the weekend together," Doyle's voice faltered a little, "if you want ..."

"ONLY the weekend?" Bodie shifted a little uncomfortably. "I've just told you I love you. I never said that to anyone else before -- or, if I did, I didn't mean it. Is this JUST for the weekend?"

"I want more," admitted Doyle, "but I know you. You could never be happy with one person -- neither of us is ready to make that kind of commitment -- so, we'll just take it as it comes."

As it comes -- sounded so casual -- there was a joke there somewhere, but this was too important an issue to be flippant at the moment.

"And when I'm ready?" Ready to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I was committed to you when Cowley first teamed us. Marriage of convenience -- I fancied you from the minute I laid my eyes on you, but I never even thought about falling in love ...

Doyle was cuddling him and kissing the top of his head.

"You'll know where I'll be."

Now or never, decided Bodie. If he thinks that this is a casual fling -- a quick grope -- he'll back off and the trust we had before will be gone.

"Ray ..." he raised his head and met the earnest gaze, "I'm ready whenever you are ..."

---

The insistent ring of the phone brought Doyle up through the comfortable fog of sleep. There was a solid immovable someone pinning him to the mattress, and he didn't really want to leave his little nest. If he waited long enough, whoever it was would ring off.

The phone went on.

Doyle opened his eyes. Bodie was lying across him, deeply asleep, clinging like a child to a teddy. It would be cruel to wake him when he looked so -- vulnerable. Doyle smiled indulgently. Bodie, for all his hard-man image, was a big softie. Except when it came to making love, he amended hastily; he could still feel the phantom sensations in his behind, hard and hot ...

The phone wouldn't stop demanding his attention. He wriggled a bit and pushed at his partner's shoulder. One lazy eye opened and regarded him drowsily.

"Phone's ringin'," mumbled Bodie.

"Get off me and answer it then," snorted Doyle, shoving him again.

With a sigh, Bodie rolled over and crawled to the edge of the mattress.

"Bloody hell!" he moaned. "It's seven o'clock. Weren't we supposed to phone the girls?"

"Oh, shit! Forgot about them," groaned Doyle. "That may be them now --"

"Or central, wanting to know why they couldn't reach us all day ..." Bodie grinned self-consciously at his other half. "Hope you've got a good story lined up."

Doyle sat up gingerly, testing his weight on his buttocks.

"Shut up and answer the phone."

Bodie padded to the lounge and sat on the sofa. He reached across and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello, Bodie?" Debbie sounded relieved. "Have you seen Ray? Allie's with me and she says he promised to call."

"He's been with me all day." He thought quickly. "Actually, we've only just got back," he lied smoothly. "We were going to ring you and apologise for not being able to make it tonight."

Doyle wandered to the couch and folded up beside his lover, snuggling close.

"It -- was serious then," said Debbie. "I had a feeling it might be."

"Yeah," Bodie breathed, as he twined his fingers with Doyle's. "It's serious." What could he say? Thanks for a great night's screwing, but I'll be sleeping with my partner from now on? "I'm sorry, Debs. It Just --"

"It's my own fault," she conceded. "If I hadn't said anything to Ray ..." She gave a little laugh. "I should be glad for both of you ..." There was the tiniest catch in her voice. "I'll break the news to Allie - it'll be better coming from me."

It would also save Doyle from having to find the words and living with the guilt of hurting the girls. It was the stupid sort of thing that would matter to Ray, one of his most annoying and endearing qualities.

"Thanks --" Bodie responded awkwardly. There was nothing more to say. "We'd both appreciate that."

"Well -- see you around," promised Debbie, fighting to keep her voice normal.

Bodie made a noncommittal sound, and eventually hung up.

"Bodie-mate ..."

He turned to his lover and smiled. Doyle's free hand caressed his cheek.

"We're free." Bodie kissed Doyle's palm. "What d'you fancy doing for the rest of the weekend?"

Doyle met his eyes steadily. "You."

Bodie blinked; no question that he'd refuse. His smile became a saucy grin, and he struggled to his feet, pulling Doyle with him.

"Come on then, sunshine ..." He put his arm round the slender waist and hugged, his insides melting again, now that he was about to make a dream come true ...

---

Lying close in the afterglow, Bodie listened to the sound of his lover sleeping. Ray Doyle, partner, friend -- MATE now, in every sense of the word ... A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. More than all those things, Doyle was his family now -- their relationship consummated repeatedly throughout the evening as if -- as if we were still afraid it wasn't real, and we had to have it as much as possible, in case it WAS all a dream ...

The fantasy beside him stirred. Two sleepy eyes sought his.

"Something wrong, love?" croaked Doyle.

"Nothing," Bodie whispered. "It's absolutely perfect."

Doyle's hand slid over his body and pulled him closer. Bodie snuggled against hot, damp flesh, squirming to get comfortable. Doyle sighed contentedly.

"NOW it is."

Bodie wasn't about to argue with logic like that; he kissed his lover and fell asleep.

-- THE END --

Thanks again to John for the original idea.