"It's your turn to take out the trash, Bodie." As Doyle pulled the overflowing can from under the sink, he couldn't help but notice the complete lack of response from the sitting room. "Did you hear me?" he yelled, knowing quite well his partner had.

"I did it last week," Bodie called back from his extremely comfortable position on the divan, a can of beer clutched in his hand and a game on the box.

"Can't have done. You've got second and fourth Tuesdays, I've got first and third, and it's not first Tuesday 'til next week." Doyle sauntered to the doorway to grin at Bodie, proud of his irrefutable logic.

"Only one problem with that, sunshine. This month has five Tuesdays."

"Oh." He hadn't considered that when he'd carefully drawn up their chore schedule.

"And last week was fourth Tuesday, and I took it out. So now it's your turn."

Doyle put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, but if I do it this week, then next week I have to do it again. That's twice in a row."

"And if I do it this week, it's twice in a row for me. So sod off and take out the trash."

"We'll just have to change the schedule," Doyle insisted on getting their household duties into a logical form. "No more first and third or second and fourth. It'll just have to be every other week."

"Fine by me." Bodie took a large gulp of beer. "It's still your turn then." He smiled at the fuming figure in the doorway.

"Whatever happened to that ex-military neatness, eh?"

"Didn't stick. 'sides, maybe I don't like cleanin' up after other people."

"Oh, that's rich." Doyle stomped back to the trash can. "Most of this is yours, you know." He found a large plastic bag and began stuffing it with the overflow, most of which had toppled onto the floor. "Bloody junk food containers," he muttered, loud enough for Bodie to hear. "Half this crap is recyclable, you know. It's amazin', the amount of garbage that one person can produce in one week, totally amazin' - " He stopped, appalled at the object he'd just picked up. A frozen pizza box. He looked at the unpronounceable chemicals comprising the ingredient list. Then he stalked into the sitting room and waved the offending carton in Bodie's face. "What the hell is this? Do you have any idea how bad this is for you?" A suspicious notion crossed Doyle's mind. "When did you eat this?"

Bodie shrugged, eyes on the telly, unable to comprehend his partner's quirks. "Last night."

"Last night? LAST night? Didn't you see the vegetarian lasagna I left for you? It only had a huge sign on it saying Help Yourself. But no, you go and eat this junk instead. Why?"

"Didn't want to have to do any washing up after," Bodie replied. He wished Doyle would go away and leave him in peace.

"You lazy sonofabitch." Doyle stood there, clutching the pizza box, wondering, not for the first time, what on earth Cowley'd been thinking of when he'd made them move into the same flat. The mention of dishes reminded him of yet another bone of contention. "It's your turn to clean the sink, anyway. And it's your turn to clean the bath, and don't skip over the tub like you did last time - "

"Give me a bloody break, Doyle." Bodie'd had enough; his peaceful evening had been disturbed once again. He turned off the set and stood, jabbing a finger at Doyle's chest. "If you had showers more often instead of - " His nose wrinkled at the thought. " - baths, for Christ's sake, you wouldn't always be leavin' that disgusting ring, would you? Not to mention all those long curly hairs cloggin' up the drain - "

"Quit pokin' me." Doyle held the pizza container in front of his chest to ward off further prodding as Bodie advanced, pushing him back into the kitchen.

"This isn't going to work," Bodie said with an underlying tone of menace. He drained the rest of his beer. "I don't give a damn about the Cow's Emergency Budget Restrictions. This is ridiculous." He'd backed Doyle up against the counter, their faces only inches apart. "It's bad enough I have to see you on the job all day but then to have you hangin' about every night, every weekend - you're gettin' on my nerves, Doyle." He tossed the beer can toward the trash can.

"That's recyclable," Doyle protested. He tried to move so he could pick it up, but Bodie placed his powerful arms on either side of him, resting his hands on the counter top and effectively trapping him.

"Fuck recycling." Bodie's eyes narrowed. As he stared at Doyle's incredibly full lips, he realized he felt as randy as hell. "And another thing. Every bird I chat up and try to bring back here wants to know why I have a flatmate and only one damn bedroom plus that stupid, idiotic hide-a-bed. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I convinced one of 'em to stay?" How long it's been since I've had sex, he mentally added, eyeing Doyle's open, unbuttoned shirt.

"Let me go," Doyle said. His knees had developed an unaccountable tremble. He continued to hold the pizza box tightly, it being the only thing between his chest and Bodie's.

Bodie ignored his request. "So how long's it been for you?" It had been Doyle's month for the bedroom, while he'd been relegated to the hide-a-bed, and Bodie couldn't recall hearing any outrageous noises coming from the direction of the bedroom - not recently. And he knew, from their occasional double dates, that Doyle was a very vocal lover. "Been gettin' any lately, hmm?" He smiled and favored Doyle with one of his better Smoldering Looks.

Doyle swallowed. Those eyes... and those eyelashes, were doing things to him, things he'd only thought about before in his fantasies... he idly wondered if Cowley had considered all the possibilities when he'd made their new living arrangements. And would screwing your partner be considered a reasonable side effect of the Emergency Budget Restrictions? Doyle felt the heat in his groin. He was horny as all get out, and this could be considered an emergency... on the other hand, this was Bodie. His macho, level-headed, coolly controlled partner. Had he gone barmy on him?

Bodie suddenly thrust his hips up against him, and Doyle gasped at the hardness at his partner's crotch. "Somebody must've put somethin' in your beer, mate - you've gone funny on me."

"Shut up," Bodie snarled. "You going to tell me you don't want it?"

Be a bit difficult to deny, Doyle thought, as his own cock strained against his jeans. "Well, just out of necessity, mind you - "

"Yeah. Absolutely." Bodie lifted his right arm from the counter so he cold pluck the pizza box from Doyle's hands. He flipped it towards the trash can and missed. "I'll pick it up later," he said. He grabbed Doyle round the waist and used his other hand to cup the back of his head, and their lips met in a fervent kiss. Those lips... Bodie had often wondered what they'd be like - he couldn't help it; those lips were just too damn beautiful. He worked at them, savoring them, then prodded them apart with his tongue, and they explored each other's mouths until the act of breathing again became a priority.

Bodie came up for air, then attacked again, lingering on those lips before moving downward, kissing Doyle's throat and neck, pausing when he reached the thin gold necklace. He fingered the familiar-looking chain. "Who gave you this?"

"You did, you berk." Doyle had wrapped his arms round Bodie's back. "Don't you remember? First anniversary present."

"What?" Bodie looked genuinely puzzled.

"First anniversary of our partnership. You got very drunk and sentimental." Doyle smiled at the memory of Bodie handing him the gift-wrapped box, and the fumbling excuses he'd made about its contents. "It was quite endearing, mate." He gently massaged Bodie's muscles, working out the tension there. "You really don't remember?"

"Well, it's been a few years..." Bodie was touched by the fact his partner still wore the chain.

"Yeah. Good years." Doyle nuzzled Bodie's neck, leaving little kisses along the way. He stopped his massage and began unbuttoning Bodie's shirt. "Feels right, you know."

"What?"

"This."

"Oh." Bodie returned the favor, yanking Doyle's shirt from his jeans and stripping it off his arms as Doyle did the same for him. Just out of necessity, mind you. Doyle's words echoed through him. He ran his hands down Doyle's chest, pausing at the scars, momentarily panicked at the memories they evoked. He gazed up into wide green eyes. "Fuck necessity," he whispered. Bodie took a look at the mess on the floor. "And fuck this kitchen. Come to bed, Ray." He tugged at the belt of Doyle's jeans.

Doyle felt an Emergency Restriction in that area which definitely needed to be dealt with. "Anything you say, partner." He followed Bodie into the bedroom, pulling off his jeans and briefs as he went, with a great sense of relief. The bedside lamp was on, casting just enough light to catch all of Bodie's charms as he discarded the rest of his own clothes. Doyle winced as Bodie yanked back the covers of the neatly made bed, mangling the sheet. A slob. No doubt about it. Bodie would never change; he was just going to have to learn to live with it.

Bodie crawled into the bed, straight to Doyle's favorite side. Then he patted the empty space beside him. Doyle sighed and climbed in. He was immediately gathered up by his partner, whose cock rubbed up against his own, sending an electric tingle through him. "Nice," he murmured. He resumed his massage of Bodie's back as Bodie moved a hand between his thighs to caress his balls. Their mouths met again in a wild impatient kiss. Then Bodie broke away to kiss Doyle's throat. Doyle moaned as Bodie's hand moved to stroke his throbbing cock and Bodie's lips moved down to explore his nipples. Bodie bucked his hips, pushing his body against Doyle's. At this rate it would be over too soon.... "Want it to last," Doyle whispered.

"Don't worry." Bodie left off his tongue's caress of Doyle's nipples to move ever downward, planting kisses everywhere until he reached his goal. "Can always do it again later." With that he took Doyle's cock into his mouth. He'd barely started to suck when Doyle, with something between a shout and a moan, spurted into him. As his trembling body gradually relaxed, Doyle realized his partner still strained with need. Uncertainty gripped him; he wasn't sure he could do what Bodie had just done.

"Just touch me, Bodie said, reading his thoughts. "Please, Ray - "

Doyle ran a finger along the underside of Bodie's cock, then wrapped his hand round it. The surging power of it sent a tingle along his spine. He stroked vigorously, watching the ecstasy on Bodie's face, thrilled that he was the cause. Bodie thrust up with his hips, head arched back, hands clenching the sheet as he came. He gasped as the last of the milky-white fluid spurted over Doyle's hand, then sank back, breathing deeply, eyes closed. "Could get used to that," he murmured. "And a lot of other things..." He opened his eyes to see Doyle using the crumpled up sheet to wipe his hand, then he dabbed it at Bodie's abdomen.

Bodie smiled. "Just can't get over this neatness thing, can you?" He reached up to ruffle Doyle's hair. "What are you goin' to do next - wash all the bedding?"

Doyle bunched up the sheet and tossed it on the floor, then grinned triumphantly as he pulled the duvet around them. "Not on your life."

Bodie frowned, suspicious. "Why not?"

"Because." Doyle wrapped his arms around his partner. "It's your turn to do the laundry." He leaned over to turn off the lamp.

-- THE END --