Mellow. Yeah, mellow was a good word. Ray would probably say that he was pissed, but he thought mellow was better. He looked up as another pint was placed on the table in front of him. Two green eyes were studying him intently.

"You're pissed."

Bloody predictable was Doyle.

"Not pissed. I'm mellow."

"That's a new one. Mean the same as pissed, does it?"

"Told you, I'm m..."

"Mellow. Yeah, you said."

Bodie shrugged as he took the top off his pint. Doyle was still looking at him suspiciously.

"How come you're so pissed? You haven't had any more than me." He paused. "When did you last eat?"

Bodie thought for a moment.

"Had a sarnie about eleven," he said eventually. "Or was that yesterday?"

"Nothing else since?"

He shook his head, then regretted it as the pub swayed slightly.

"That's it then. You know your body's not designed to go for more than two hours without food."

Bodie tried to protest as his almost full pint was forcibly removed from his grasp and placed alongside a row of empty glasses on the bar. In one smooth movement Doyle finished the contents of his own glass and pulled Bodie to his feet.

"C'mon, sunshine. Visit to our friendly local Chinese is in order, I think."

"Thought we were going on the pull after this," Bodie objected as he was propelled towards the door.

"Not in the state you're in, mate. Just cramp my style, you would."

As the pub door swung open Bodie came to an abrupt halt.

"Jesus, Ray, it's chucking it down. Pub's nice and warm. Let's stay and have another drink."

A firm hand in the small of the back urged him forwards.

"Nope. Chinese, then back to mine."

Bodie grimaced and turned up the collar of his leather jacket. Lurching into Doyle several times as they made their way along the street to the takeaway he kept up a constant grumbling narrative concerning his partner's lack of understanding. If Doyle had looked at him as they entered the takeaway however he would have seen Bodie's scowl disappear and a self-satisfied smirk take its place.

Phase one of Bodie's plan had gone perfectly.

He had to admit that the takeaway had been good, and even though it had been a little white lie to say that he hadn't eaten since eleven that morning he'd still been starving. He lay back in the comfort of one of Doyle's over-stuffed armchairs and watched through slitted eyes as his partner finished off his share of the food. He loved to watch Doyle eating like this, fingers all greasy, mouth covered in sauce. And the way he kept licking his lips, well it shouldn't be allowed. The man was a menace. It was all he could do to stop himself going over and licking those luscious lips for him. He dragged his eyes away and stretched dramatically before standing up.

"Need a pee," he said by way of explanation.

"Can you find it OK?"

"Well I don't need a pair of binoculars if that's what you mean."

"I'm talking about the bathroom."

"So was I."

He reached out and ruffled Doyle's hair as he passed. "Food was good. Cheers, mate," he said, smiling. Pausing in the doorway he studied his fingers. "Good as a dishcloth, that mop of yours. Hands are nice and clean now."


Doyle could hear him chuckling to himself as he made his way to the bathroom. He shook his head as he stood and began to clear the detritus from the table.

"Stupid idiot'll be laughing over that for hours now," he said to himself ruefully as he carried the empty containers through to the kitchen and began to make coffee.

Returning to the living room some five minutes later he found the room still empty. Images of Bodie throwing up all over his bathroom immediately came into his mind and he went in search of his drunken companion. The bathroom was pristine but unoccupied, and as Doyle turned in his tracks a snore from the direction of the bedroom provided a clue to his partner's whereabouts.

Doyle stood in the bedroom doorway and looked down on a fully-clothed Bodie sprawled out on top of his bed.

"Bloody hell, Bodie. Just make yourself comfy, don't mind me."

The figure on the bed stirred. "Alright if I kip here, Ray?" he mumbled. "You can take the sofa."

"I haven't got a bloody sofa, you idiot."

Another snore was the only reply and Doyle returned to the living room to finish his coffee in disgust. After ten minutes of attempting to get comfortable in his armchair he swore loudly to himself and returned to the bedroom.

"Oi, shove over," he said angrily as he poked Bodie hard between the shoulder blades. Stripping off he attempted to slide under the covers, no mean feat when twelve stone of comatose meat was lying face down on top of them. Eventually he managed some semblance of comfort and, pulling a pillow over his head in an attempt to drown out the cacophony of snores, he miraculously drifted off to sleep within a few minutes.

Bodie lay on his back listening to Doyle's steady breathing. He was wide awake and clear headed, and smugly congratulated himself on his drunk act that evening. He listened to the church clock across the street chime three and decided that it was time to put phase two of his plan into action. Another visit to the bathroom was his first priority and returning to the bedroom he gave an involuntary gasp as his eyes alighted on Doyle's naked form lying on the bed, the covers in a heap below his feet. Swiftly discarding his own clothing he climbed onto the bed beside his partner and gently touched his cheek.

"Ray, wake up," he said softly.

"Mmm. What?"

"Wake up, sunshine. You owe me thirty quid."

"Eh? What're you on about now?"

"We had a bet. I've won. Thirty quid."

"Don't know what you're babbling on about. Go back to sleep."

"Oi." He shook Doyle roughly.

"Bodie, for fuck's sake." Fully awake now, Doyle propped himself up on one elbow and glared at him.

"You bet me thirty quid that I couldn't get you into bed." He waved one hand expansively. "Voila!"

"Conniving bastard."

Bodie looked hurt. "Don't say things like that, Raymond. You know you love me really."

Doyle snorted as Bodie snuggled in closer to him and wound his arms around his waist.

"I'm a pretty reasonable sort of fella, you know," he whispered into Doyle's ear, burying his face in his auburn curls. "If you're a bit strapped for cash at the moment I'm happy to accept payment in kind."

Ray Doyle awoke with a feeling of sublime contentment. He slowly opened his eyes and gazed lovingly at the face of the man sleeping soundly beside him. Bloody gorgeous, he was. No wonder his insides did a flip every time he looked at him. He'd known that Bodie would make a move sooner or later. He could never have resisted a challenge like that. Not that Doyle had ever intended fighting him off when he did. Let the silly bugger think he'd won his stupid bet. Just a big kid, Bodie was really. He supposed that was one of the reasons why he loved him so much. Just one of them. He'd have a fit if he knew that things had gone exactly the way Doyle had planned.

Doyle's eyes moved downwards to his partner's chest. Beautiful body, well-muscled, no flab despite all the rubbish he chucked down his neck. He reached out and touched him gently and watched as Bodie gradually stirred into wakefulness. His eyelids flickered open and Doyle was transfixed by two deep blue eyes that were smiling up at him.

"Morning, 'andsome," Bodie murmured sleepily.

"Morning yourself."

Doyle leaned forward and kissed him gently. Bodie's eyes closed again.

"Mmm. 'S nice," he grinned.

"Wanna tell you something. Last night was bloody fantastic."

Doyle found himself being pulled into a tight embrace.

"Knew you'd like it. Love you, Ray."

"Feeling's mutual, sunshine."

Another kiss. Slow, tender, full of love.

"You OK?" Bodie asked as they eventually broke free. "How d'you feel?"

"I feel......" Doyle searched for the right words, squirming and stretching happily as he did so. His movements sent a shockwave directly to Bodie's groin.

"I feel...."


Doyle turned and smiled at his lover.

"Yeah. Mellow."

-- THE END --

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