Doyle slurped on a peach noisily as he made his way down the dark steps. He was never going to let Bodie live this one down. Captured by Chinese drug dealers, he must be going soft. At least CI5 had caught the lot of them. The one Cowley had interrogated said they had left the "big horse" unattended, in a Limehouse basement. Fortunately Doyle knew the area. The street was grim, the building dilapidated and the steps were smelly and filthy. Christ, it was like being in a Fu Manchu film. He squinted into the gloom. Where the steps ended, there was only one door. When he reached it, he listened at the keyhole. No sound. He jiggled the handle and was greeted by agitated scraping and what could pass for muffled shouting. He smiled. That definitely sounded like Bodie. He flung the door open and was greeted with the sight of his partner, bound hand, foot and neck to a table.

"'allo 'allo. What's all this then?"

An enraged sound emanated from Bodie's gagged mouth. He bounced the table, scraping it along the floor slightly. Doyle laughed out loud.

"Aren't you a sight."

He continued to slurp on the peach as he walked around the table. It was a very inviting arrangement. Bodie's knees were splayed, his ankles tied to one set of legs. His body was supported by the table from hip to neck. His arms hung down the other set of legs and were secured. The same rope that bound his arms was looped about his neck and a wad of cloth had been stuffed into his mouth. Bodie's jacket was gone. His white linen shirt was rucked up from all the squirming, exposing a swath of equally white flesh. Doyle ran a hand up the leg of Bodie's grey moleskin trousers. He could feel the straining and quivering of the powerful muscles under his hand. Doyle took another sucking bite out of the peach and wandered back to the door. He closed and locked it. He quickly surveyed the basement and noted the other door.

"That one locked?"

Doyle inclined his head towards the rear of the cobweb-infested room. Bodie made a gurgling sound that eloquently expressed annoyance at his partner's behaviour. Doyle nonchalantly walked past him and tested the second door. The key was still in the lock. He pocketed it and returned to Bodie.

"Well, my son, what have you to say for yourself?"

Bodie's face grew red as he attempted to yell around the gag. Doyle smiled at him good-naturedly and gently stroked his cheek.

"Nothing to say, eh? Never though I'd see the day."

Bodie's body arched as his muscles bunched and strained against the ropes. Both the table and the ropes held him securely. Doyle ran a possessive hand over the expanse of taut flesh at Bodie's middle.

"Nice," he purred.

Doyle balanced the peach on Bodie's navel. He sucked his fingers clean then wiped them on his jeans. He loosened the rope pressing on Bodie's neck, but didn't undo it. He ran his finger lightly over the abraded flesh. The rope still kept Bodie's head back, so Doyle availed himself of the long swath of exposed neck before him. His tongue teased under the jawline, tickled by Bodie's stubble. His lips could feel Bodie's pulse pounding beneath them. His fingers lightly kneaded Bodie's shoulders. Soft whimpering noises worked their way around Bodie's gag. Doyle leaned over the edge of the table, kissing Bodie's cheeks and nose. When their eyes finally met, Bodie's were bright and teasing. Doyle smiled broadly as he looked into them.

"Ohhh ho, you randy old bastard. This has got you going hasn't it?"

Bodie snorted a laugh around his gag. Doyle chuckled as he methodically began to undo Bodie's clothes. He opened a button on the shirt, moved the linen out of his way, then leaned down to plant a kiss on each section of freshly revealed flesh. He chewed lightly over the smooth expanse of chest, leaving small strawberry marks in no real pattern. He slid a hand down his partner's flank and moved to stand between his bound legs. Both hands idly stroked Bodie's splayed thighs. He started haphazardly rubbing his thumb up and down the seam of Bodie's trousers. He licked his lips as the hardness under his hand grew more pronounced. He took a deep breath and lowered Bodie's zip. He slowly exhaled and pulled the grey fabric out of his way.

"I should get you into a pair of silk briefs, mate. Much nicer than these tatty old Y-fronts. Might take some doing, though, findin' a pair to go around all this."

Doyle's hands gripped Bodie's hips. Even spread wide, his hands didn't reach all the way around. His thumbs stroked the soft flesh under Bodie's navel. The muscles rippled under his touch. His own pulse started to pound in his ears. Without stopping his gentle strokes, Doyle fished in his coat pocket for his Swiss Army knife. While he opened it to the large blade, he leaned forward to lick up some of the peach juice trickling over the pale skin before him. Bodie wriggled excitedly. Doyle plucked at the elastic waistband of Bodie's Y-fronts with his teeth. He slid his fingers gently under the leg elastic, teasing at Bodie's balls. Doyle rubbed his cheek over Bodie's stiff cock, drinking in the heat radiating from his partner's groin.

"These have to go..."

Doyle plucked at the offending underwear. Bodie's wriggling took on a more needy edge. Doyle kissed the cotton-covered bulge, then smiled. He grabbed a section of material over Bodie's hip and whacked through it with the blade. Bodie's reaction was violent. He heaved in surprise, each muscle in his abdomen undulating. The table creaked in protest. Doyle barked a quick laugh and snatched up the peach before it rolled from Bodie's stomach. He popped it back into his mouth then hacked his way through the rest of the cotton. He eased the remains of the Y-fronts out from under Bodie's bottom and shoved them into his jacket pocket. He slurped at the peach again as his hands returned to idly stroking his partner's thighs. His eyes lingered over the feast displayed before him. Bodie's rosy cock bobbed above the dark curls still mostly hidden by his grey trousers. The thick musculature of his torso looked like a marble statue.

Doyle came back to himself when some peach juice dripped off his chin and plopped onto Bodie's skin. It had got so quiet, he actually heard the droplet land. He let out a filthy chuckle and dropped the peach into his hand. He thought for a moment, smiled, then proceeded to tease the peach over Bodie's exposed skin. He ran it over Bodie's neck, along his collarbone and down over his torso and onto his cock. Its flesh left small pulpy traces over Bodie's ribs and in his pubic hair. He glistened all over with sweat and peach juice.

"You look edible, mate. Think I'll have a taste."

Doyle's tongue swiped over Bodie in wide strokes. He started under Bodie's chin and laved down slowly. He made lazy circles over each nipple, flicking them into hardness. Harsh sounds started to come from Bodie's chest. Doyle growled back a little. He lapped up the stray peach bits and slurped up droplets of juice. He tickled Bodie's navel and chewed the soft flesh beneath it until Bodie writhed under him. Another filthy chuckle slipped from Doyle.

"Well, well, well."

He flicked his tongue over Bodie's cock. The writhing grew more urgent. Doyle was impressed by how far Bodie could get his hips off the table. He took a last slurping bite of the peach, noting how some of the flavour of Bodie's skin still remained on it. He tossed it aside and slipped back down between Bodie's legs. He wrapped his lips completely around Bodie's cock, sucking lightly, until whining groans let him know he was going too slowly. He slid his hands under Bodie's heaving buttocks and yanked his trousers farther down, eagerly kneading Bodie's ample curves.

"God, but there's a lot of you to hold on to..."

He lightly licked around tight balls, carefully mouthing them until Bodie's squirming knocked his head away. Doyle straightened and undid his own zip. He shifted his clothes out of the way and draped himself over Bodie's naked torso. A deep sigh escaped him as their hot flesh met. Doyle tried to go slowly, but he found he couldn't. They ground against one another savagely. Bodie's muscles shook under Doyle's weight and movement. Doyle's own muscles quivered with impending orgasm. He clutched the edge of the table as his balance began to fail him.

"C'mon, you bastard. Give it up..." Doyle's voice was a harsh pant.

Almost on command, Bodie moaned and bucked. Slickness pooled between them. Doyle grinned triumphantly and allowed himself his own release. They panted together for a moment before Doyle dragged himself upright. He pulled the remnants of Bodie's Y-fronts out of his pocket and swabbed himself clean. He wiped at Bodie but paused. He ran a finger through their mingled emissions, then lunged forward and finished with his tongue. The taste was exquisite. Salty and sweet and bitter. When Doyle came back to himself, he heard soft gasps. He continued to stroke Bodie, but moved enough to look into his partner's face. Bodie was blinking away sweat and his expression was pleading. Doyle slid his finger up Bodie's chest and back down over his throat. Bodie's nostrils flared and he shivered.

"Too hard to breathe with that lot in, eh?"

Doyle smoothed back some errant waves on Bodie's forehead, then eased out the cloth gag. He inspected it and made a face. He tossed it aside, stroking Bodie's throat. Bodie coughed and cleared his throat.

"God, Ray, that was amazing," Bodie's voice cracked.

Doyle laughed. He leaned down and methodically attacked Bodie's mouth. Their tongues slipped and dodged. Bodie broke away to cough again.

"Mmmm, peaches and cream. Tastes good," Bodie purred.

A satisfied smile lit his face as his eyes caressed Doyle dishevelled form.

"C'mon Angelfish, cut these ropes will you? Me arms are numb."

Doyle straightened out his own clothes then cut Bodie out of the ropes. He helped him get upright, massaging his shoulders and arms.

"How the hell did you get yourself into this mess?"

Bodie sat on the edge of the table flexing his fingers, looking innocent.

"Well, mate, there was this call you see. And they told me there was a golly trapped in a basement..."

"Gahhh! I'll read it in the report anyway." Doyle rolled his eyes and put his knife away.

"What? You read?"

Doyle sighed and hoisted Bodie off the table.

"Ohhh, me feet are all tingly," Bodie giggled.

He grabbed at Doyle as his legs buckled. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Doyle's shoulders and bury his lips into auburn curls.

"Bodie, you weigh a ton. Stamp your feet or something to get the circulation going."

"You keep doin' that and all the blood will rush to somewhere other than my feet."

Doyle smiled and shook his head when he realised he was holding Bodie up by his arse cheeks. His fingers were kneading into the plump flesh and Bodie was rocking against him again. He rolled his eyes and set Bodie back onto the table. He planted a swift kiss on pouting lips and started to set his partner's clothes to rights.

"Come on, you. Get yourself sorted out and let's get out of here."

Bodie sighed heavily. He let Doyle out of his grasp and straightened his shirt and trousers. He creaked upright and started bouncing to get his circulation going. Disappointment was evident on his face.

"Bodie, you really enjoyed that, didn't you?" Doyle's eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

Bodie let out a wicked snort.

"Maybe as much as you did, Sunshine. When can we do it again?" A satisfied, beaming grin covered his face.

Doyle's laughter echoed through the basement.

-- THE END --

Originally published in A Little B & D, No Name No City Press, 2003