What Lies Behind Us
by Zoe
Banner by Agent Xpndble for summer_of_78
Many thanks to nakeisha for the beta. Written for the summer_of_78 livejournal fic exchange.
"Do you remember when we first met, Bodie?"
"How can I forget? I walked into Cowley's office and there you were; a scruff of the highest order. I still don't know how you managed to squeeze yourself into those jeans. You were obnoxious then, too."
"Cheers mate." Ray nudged his partner; there was a soft smile on his lips. "But seriously, Cowley did us a favour, didn't he? Partnering us. I mean, he must have known we'd hate each other on sight."
Bodie contemplated this point for several seconds before replying. "Didn't hate each other for long though, did we?"
October 1977
George Cowley sat behind his desk; glasses perched at the end of his nose. "Doyle. I've assigned your agent number. It will be 4.5. I've also assigned you a partner-"
"Partner? I don't bloody want a partner; I work best solo. Sir." Raymond Doyle straightened himself up in the chair.
Ignoring him, Cowley continued. "Your partner will be here shortly. You will work with him, 4.5, make no mistake. I want to you both to get to know each other, inside out and back to front. Know him better than your own brother, Doyle."
Doyle was clearly about to argue the point further when he caught sight of Cowley's expression. So instead he merely said, "But I don't have a brother, sir."
"Don't be facetious, 4.5." Cowley glared at him over the top of his glasses. "I-" A knock on the door interrupted him. "Come."
The door opened and a tall, dark haired man, dressed in the latest fashionable suit and shirt came in. He stood to attention in front of Cowley's desk.
"Ahh, Bodie. Meet your new partner. Agent 4.5, otherwise known as Raymond Doyle. Doyle, this is William Bodie, Agent 3.7." Cowley watched closely as the two men turned to acknowledge one another. Other than a slight widening of their eyes, Cowley could see no other reaction. "Hello. Raymond, was it? Can't afford new clothes, eh?"
Doyle jumped up out of his chair, fists clenched. "Don't fucking talk to me like that. Which shop window did you jump out of?"
"Just because I know about style and don't like wandering about looking like a tramp."
"How dare you! You bloody arrogant bastard. I'll-"
"Sit down, both of you." Cowley didn't even bother to raise his voice; he was certain the men would obey him. And they did, albeit glaring at one another as they took their seats. "You two will go down to the armoury and pick your weapons. You will spend the rest of today getting to know each other. And you will report back here tomorrow morning at 0730."
Cowley could almost see the sparks jumping between the two tense men. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
As the two men left, Cowley wondered for a fraction of a second what the hell he'd done. Just as quickly he dismissed the thought -- he knew exactly what he'd done. Those two would either kill each other or become good, close friends.
Bodie marched down the corridor ignoring his new partner, much to his new partner's increasing irritation.
"So. William is it? Or maybe Will or Billy?"
"None of them, if you know what's good for you. Bodie or 3.7 will do."
"Bodie then. Where are you rushing off to?"
Barely sparing Doyle a look, Bodie sneered, "Weren't you listening to Cowley?"
A hand clutched at his arm, squeezing tightly, bringing him to a sudden halt. He felt the whirlwind at his side spinning him round until he was facing a bundle of spitting fury. As Doyle ranted at him, he found his own anger melting away. The green eyes and curly hair suited him, he decided. Looking down, he saw a slim, muscled body packed into tighter than tight faded denims; well-worn denims, and a thin, ratty old tee-shirt.
As the man before him turned away from him, arms flailing, anger still pouring from him like a waterfall, Bodie caught sight of the curvaceous arse, enhanced by the jeans. There was a small torn hole on the back pocket of the jeans, just under one of the perfectly formed arse cheeks, and Bodie was sorely tempted to shove one of his fingers into it. A vision of him pumping his cock into said arse had him biting back a groan of pure lust, as blood left his upper body and rushed straight to his groin.
Deprived of the majority of his senses for several seconds during his ogling of the man before him, they all came back very quickly in the guise of a swift punch to his arm, and a few choice curse words.
"Sorry, didn't hear you. What did you say?" He responded automatically, his thoughts still on the lustful scenario playing out in his head. Luckily his erection was well hidden by his jacket; he could brazen it out.
"I don't believe it. Here I am, pissed off with you and do you listen? Do you fuck. Well, mate, you can just go back into Cowley's office and tell him." Doyle stopped, his hands on his hips. Indignation streamed from every pore and there was a gleam in his fervent eyes.
"Tell him what?"
"I knew you weren't listening," growled Doyle, his voice getting deeper and angrier. "Tell him that we want different partners."
"But we don't, do we? At least, I don't. I think, given time, we'll work well together. You an' me, we're staying partners. And Cowley wouldn't separate us even if we did want it. You've met him."
"But if we want it-"
"If we want it, he'll dig his heels in and make us work together. Think about it. Tell you what'd really split us up." Bodie held his breath, wondering if Doyle would bite.
He did. "What?"
"Ah... Nah. I won't tell you just yet. Maybe I'll tell you later." C'mon goldilocks, let's go and find the armoury and pick up our guns." Bodie couldn't find the courage to say what he was intending to say. However, he was relieved to hear the footsteps padding after him.
There would be time enough to tell him, he mused.
Cuddled up to Bodie on the huge black leather sofa, Doyle smiled as he listened to Bodie reminiscing about their first meeting. "Could have gone better, must admit. If only I'd known you were lusting after my arse then, could 'ave been going to bed together longer."
"Not much longer. How long did it take us? Two weeks? Three?"
"Naa, was about four, wasn't it? Wasn't love then, though, was it?" Doyle watched as a sheepish expression crossed Bodie's face. Frowning, Doyle repeated himself. "Wasn't...was it?"
"Um... I cannot tell a lie. I fell in love with your gorgeous arse then. The rest of you came a little later. Probably that first night we fucked."
Doyle rolled his eyes, "And they say romance is dead. Shouldn't you have said something along the lines of 'the first night we made love', eh?"
Hot, hungry lips searched for his own, and Doyle gave in to his lover. He knew he was right.
November 1977
Bodie gestured towards his partner. Three fingers held aloft meant he knew there were three terrorists in the house.
Doyle nodded and continued creeping along the wall. The silence was deafeningly loud. He made his own gesture towards Bodie, a twirl and a point. Upon Bodie's slight nod, Doyle headed down the side of the house. Bodie made for the front door.
It was supposed to have been a routine check, but the sound of gunshots, as they sauntered down the path, had them racing back towards the Capri. From the relative safety of the car, they called Cowley and got the go-ahead to storm the house. Knowing that back up was only three or four minutes away, they made their move.
A sudden sound from the RT made Doyle jump slightly. He answered it quietly. "4.5."
An equally quiet voice sounded over it. "'It's me. You in position?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Ten seconds, then we go in, right?"
"Okay. Out." Doyle counted up to ten under his breath.
The noise of both doors being kicked open simultaneously clearly startled the terrorists. But Doyle had no time to think as one of the men appeared on the landing. In one fluid movement Doyle rolled to safety and shot at the same time. Target down, he jumped up and covered Bodie as he rushed up the stairs, firing at the second terrorist.
As Doyle followed Bodie up, he heard a loud yell and a thud. Heart in mouth, he flew up the rest of the stairs and into a bedroom. He found Bodie slumped across the floor, blood flowing from a head wound.
"Hold it there or I'll shoot."
Glaring at the third terrorist, Doyle held his gun firmly pointed at the scruffy man. "Stalemate, I think."
"Don't think so. You are going to put your gun away and then... Then you are going to help me escape."
"Like hell." Stance fixed, Doyle didn't dare look at his partner on the floor; he could only pray Bodie was okay. Instead he kept his eyes on the terrorist.
As the terrorist's finger tightened on the trigger, Doyle saw, out of the corner of his eye, Bodie twitch almost imperceptibly. The one fingered gesture told Doyle that Bodie would move on Doyle's say so.
A sound from below took the terrorist's attention off Bodie for a second. But a second was all that was needed. Still not daring to look at Bodie, he shouted, "Move, Bodie, now," he shot the terrorist in the shoulder. He heard the sound of the unused gun falling to the floor.
Doyle knew that the sound from below would be their back up. Now that the terrorist was unarmed and in pain, Doyle turned his full attention to Bodie. "Bodie-mate? You okay?" Concern coloured his voice.
"'ve had better days. Luckily he didn't shoot me. Just hit me with the barrel of his gun. Is our back up here?"
"Yeah. Murph's got his nibs. C'mon, mate; let's get you to hospital. Can you stand?" As he helped the wounded and groaning Bodie to his feet, Doyle cast a look at his wound. "Hmm... think I can see your brain, mate, but you'll live."
"Least you concede I have a brain. Not going to hosp'tal. Hate 'em." Bodie tried to pull away, but Doyle refused to let go.
"No way, mate. You're going, whether you like it or not. Murph?" Doyle turned around, still gripping Bodie tightly.
"Yeah? Is Bodie okay?"
"I think the wounded soldier will live, but can I leave you to mop up here?" Doyle asked. "Want to get him to hospital, then home."
"Sure. Anson's downstairs anyway, and the Cow is on his way. You want me to square it up with him?"
"Naaa, I'll do it, soon as I get this one into the car. Thanks, Murph. Catch you later."
"See ya. No walking into walls anytime soon, Bodie."
It was a sign of how painful the wound was that Bodie didn't reply. He only waved a hand in the general direction before being gently ushered downstairs and out towards the Capri.
Once he had Bodie settled, Doyle jumped into the driver's seat. Pulling out the RT, he called Cowley. "4.5 to Alpha One, come in."
Immediately the Scottish burr came over the radio. "Alpha One, go ahead."
"Three terrorists in the house, two dead, and one injured. Murphy and Anson are mopping up. Taking Bodie to hospital, sir." Concise as always, Doyle awaited further comments.
They weren't long in coming. "What happened to 3.7?"
"The third terrorist hit him over the head with his gun." Turning to look at his partner, he grinned to himself before continuing, "Shouldn't have hurt much. He keeps his brains in his --"
"Thank you, 4.5. I don't need to know that. Fine, get him checked up, and then take him home. Your reports can wait until tomorrow. Alpha One out."
As he thumbed off the RT and put it back in its usual place, a snore reached his ears. Smiling softly, he started the engine and took off, heading towards the nearest hospital. "Oh Bodie, what am I going to do with you, eh?" he whispered.
One check up later, with head injury instructions ringing in his ears and analgesia rattling in his pocket, Doyle strolled out with a grumbling Bodie.
"Told you I was okay. X-Rays showed nothing --"
"Not even your alleged brain --"
"Shut up, Doyle. I have a slight, and I stress the word slight headache, and a couple of stitches, yet I have to have a babysitter with me tonight." Bodie grimaced in disgust.
"Be very careful, old son, or I may send you round to Father's." The further expression on Bodie's face made Doyle laugh. "You know, it could be a lot worse. At least you'll have the pleasure of my company. And I warn you, I am not sleeping on the lumpy old sofa again. Your bed's big enough for two."
Bodie heaved a huge, put-upon sigh. "Fine. But I am not cooking. And don't you dare pinch all the sheets."
Doyle put his most innocent looking expression. "Me? Would I?"
"Yes, you bloody well would."
Mournfully Doyle replied, "Such trust. Such faith. Such... Such a partnership too. Don't know what the world is coming to."
"Just get us home, Doyle. I need a shower, a kip and food. Not necessarily in that order."
"Yessir!"
Clean, fed, and watered and slouched down on Bodie's lumpy sofa, Bodie was beginning to feel more human. "Thanks Ray. Headache's all but gone."
Doyle shoved himself into a better position before turning and reaching up his hand towards Bodie's head. "Let me see, Bodie. Make sure it isn't bleeding."
Without further ado, he yanked Bodie towards him. Careful fingers felt over his scalp, touching, caressing. Feelings Bodie had shoved firmly down after their first meeting came flooding back, causing a rush of blood to his groin. His cock hardened against his will, and Bodie couldn't prevent a small moan escaping.
Shoved back gently, he felt Doyle's curious green eyes upon him. "Bodie, is your headache back?"
Wanting to grab hold of his partner and kiss the full lips, but unable to, Bodie shook his head. "Naa, it's fine." He was pleased his voice came out as steady as normal.
But Doyle clearly wasn't convinced. The frown appeared once again. "Yeah, right. C'mon you, let's have you in bed." Doyle rose effortlessly to his feet.
Already semi-aroused, Bodie completely misunderstood Doyle, and shocked he glanced up at the now upright man. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but he couldn't put into words what he wanted to say.
As the expression on Doyle's face changed, Bodie realised far too late -- way, way too late -- that his feelings were shining out of him, like a beacon. His mind was virtually shouting at him to look away; to close his eyes. But even as he tried, he knew what he'd seen in his partner's perceptive green eyes.
Disgust, dislike, even hate. Wearily, Bodie stood up too. "Doyle. Ray... I... Sorry." He shrugged, knowing he couldn't explain it even if he wanted to.
"Since when, Bodie?" In the suddenly too-quiet flat, the words sounded like a ricocheting bullet.
He shrugged again. "That first day."
"And you didn't tell me, because?"
Confused by Doyle's words, Bodie looked up. "What?"
"Why didn't you tell me, Bodie? Why didn't you tell me that first day?"
"What, and have Cowley drum both of us out of CI5? Yeah, great idea. Plus I quite like the idea of keeping my head on my shoulders."
"Didn't stop you today, though, did it? With that terrorist?" Doyle shot back.
Bodie pouted. "Wasn't my fault, was it? Knew there were three terrorists, didn't I?"
"So why didn't you let me go up first? You know I'm the better shot. But no, you had to... You almost got yourself ki-"
"Didn't have any choice, sunshine, did I?"
Doyle was angry now. His voice was like ice. "You did, have a choice. You never gave me a chance. I'll tell you what you did, shall I? You stormed off up the stairs because you thought you knew best. Just like you didn't tell me you fancied me because you thought the same. Right, Bodie?"
Bodie lowered his gaze to the floor and remained silent. This was a side to Doyle he hadn't seen before, and he wasn't certain he liked it. In fact, he was positive he hated it. A small voice inside of him agreeing with Doyle only made it worse.
"Look at me, Bodie." A hand gripped his chin and forced his face up. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Bodie opened his mouth to reply, but Doyle gently shook his head. In a much calmer voice he repeated his previous sentence. "Aren't I, Bodie-mate?"
A peculiar feeling swept over him. It was one of helplessness and vulnerability. One he hadn't felt for years. In fact not since nine-year-old Sara Tyler had rescued him from the twelve-year-old Johnson twins who'd been about to give him a beating. Even now the memory of being a twelve-year-old skinny runt who'd needed rescuing by a girl, three years younger than him, stuck in his craw.
He gradually became aware of a soft touch at the back of his neck, a caress that sent slivers of pleasure through his body. Before he could speak, Doyle, who had moved closer during Bodie's introspection, kissed him. Firm yet gentle, Doyle's lips teased and caressed Bodie's. There was a whisper-soft touch of his tongue and the kiss ended.
"You should have told me, shouldn't you?" Doyle murmured, a tinge of anger colouring his words.
Consigning his memories to where they belonged, Bodie drew Doyle closer and returned the kiss. This time the kiss deepened and became increasingly more passionate, before they finally broke apart, gasping for breath.
"Think I'm ready for bed now, Ray." Bodie smiled tentatively, unsure as to Doyle's reaction.
The answering grin reassured him. Then a hand swept down his side and onto his crotch, startling and arousing him like never before.
Doyle's gaze followed his hand briefly, before amused eyes glanced back at him. "This time, you got it right. Bed..." Doyle pushed Bodie in the direction of his bedroom, shamelessly groping his arse and sending Bodie deeper into the depths of lust.
"Turned into complete love that very night, you know. Know I never told you then, but that's when it happened."
Doyle smiled and remained silent. He too had fallen in love that night.
Suddenly recalling another memory, he shoved himself upwards, using parts of the furniture and Bodie to do so. He completely ignored Bodie's squawk of annoyance and said, "Hey, do you remember that time we got caught out? I don't mean the kiss in the VIP room when we thought everyone had gone home."
Doyle shuddered at the memory of Cowley suddenly opening the door to the VIP lounge and peering in. And just as suddenly slamming it as he departed. The lecture they'd been given for that little indiscretion, not the mention all the shitty jobs they were given for a month afterwards, wasn't something they'd ever wanted to repeat.
Bodie nudged him. "Gone to sleep, lover?"
Doyle grinned sheepishly. "Naa, still remembering the fallout from the kiss. Never had to reprimand us again, did he? I still think he was pissed off because we hadn't got around to informing him."
"Give over, Doyle. I think he was jealous because I had you."
Doyle merely snorted and continued. "No, I was thinking about the time Murph caught us... That time when you forgot to bolt the door."
"Was in a hurry to get something to eat, if I recall."
"I don't remember cooking for-"
"Wasn't food I was talking about," Bodie winked.
The two men raced into Bodie's flat; the door was slammed shut, with a little help from Bodie's right foot. In a second they were entwined and clothes flew as the adrenaline high hit them. Kissing frantically, gasping for breath and with hands searching, touching and feeling, they both knew they weren't going to make it to the bedroom.
"Want you, Bodie. Now." Doyle moaned into Bodie's delicious mouth before his tongue dove straight back in. The feel of Bodie's fingers on his arse and in the cleft did wonderful things to his spine. He could feel almost a seismic wave of desire in his lover as his words registered.
Bodie pulled away, lust-glazed eyes capturing Doyle's own. The huskily whispered, "Can't, don't have any lube," was ignored, as Doyle once again seized the pouting lips. Another passionate kiss was ended only by the need for oxygen.
Doyle whispered, "No lube, I just need you, now." Pulling away from Bodie he turned, shimmying his arse as he leant forward onto the wall. The coldness almost sizzled against his volcanic heated skin, but it was welcomed as it took him away from the edge.
A tender touch from the nape of his neck down into the dark cleft of his arse almost had him coming. With strength he didn't realise he still had, he tensed. Shoving himself off the wall, Doyle reached down to still his erect cock, the other hand pulling down on the tight testicles. He warned Bodie. "Don't touch me. Not yet, lover."
After what seemed like hours, but was in fact only seconds, Doyle breathed a sigh of relief. Hoarsely, he whispered, "Now, Bodie. Please."
Doyle felt the movement as Bodie moved forward, his erection brushing against Doyle's arse cheeks. A sure touch, slick with... something, Doyle wasn't sure what, caressed his opening before pressing forward and entering. Relaxing as much as he could, Doyle shoved back, wanting as much of Bodie in him as possible.
Despite the lack of lube, Doyle needed desperately more than a couple of fingers in him. Turning his head slightly, he opened his mouth to speak when a low, husky voice interrupted him.
"Ray, you ready for me? You sure about this?"
Reaching around himself, Doyle felt for and held Bodie's cock, pulling it gently towards him. "Want you, Bodie. Do it. Fuck me."
A huff of hot breath on the back of Doyle's neck made him shiver, and as Bodie lined himself up, Doyle once again relaxed himself and tilted his arse in readiness.
Two long, drawn out moans filled the air as Bodie entered him. Impatient now, Doyle shoved back, wanting all of Bodie in him, the desire and need for him overriding the moment of pain. He wanted to feel Bodie plastered onto his back.
"Fuck me, Bodie. Get on with it, mate," he urged, clenching his buttocks.
A wave of lust overwhelmed him as Bodie did as he asked. The first thrust sent Doyle up against the cool wall, steam virtually rising off him. The cut and parry, thrust and counterthrust, set the rhythm; passionate gasps and murmured words of love filled the air.
They were so involved in their passionate lovemaking they never heard the door open.
As orgasm swept over both men and promises, oaths and rarely-spoken-but-always-felt 'I love yous' were exchanged, Doyle felt Bodie's body stiffen.
Shattered by the strength of his own climax, he couldn't quite manage to hear what Bodie was saying. Then a second voice, not his own, entered into the fray. He turned his head and saw the bowed head of -- Murphy.
"What the fuck?" He felt Bodie carefully taking his cock out of his arse, a loss he always mourned. Legs still shaking, Doyle managed to move around, his lover standing in front of him protected him. Scowling, he moved out from behind him. "'lo, Murph. What're you doin' here?"
"I've just asked him that!" Bodie muttered, "If you'd been listening."
Doyle ignored his partner. His attention was entirely on the downcast, ashamed-looking man standing before him.
"Um... I... Sorry, boys. I... Er... That is..." Murphy stammered to a halt.
Doyle pulled on his jeans, carefully tucked himself away, noting Bodie doing the same, before inviting Murphy through to the lounge. "C'mon, mate. Fancy a cuppa?"
Murphy, a look of relief on his face, followed Doyle. He didn't seem aware that Bodie hadn't joined them. Doyle, however, knew that Bodie was clearing up the mess they had made. Doyle left Murphy for a moment or two and went into the kitchen to make the coffee.
"Now then, Murph. What were you doing? Must admit, I thought we'd locked the door." Doyle started the conversation as he brought their coffees through. He handed one to Murphy and placed the other two mugs on the coffee table. Then he slumped, somewhat carefully, into the armchair, throwing one leg casually over the arm in his usual manner. "Was a bit surprised to find you there, I have to say."
Finally finding his tongue, Murphy said, "Oh god, Doyle, I'm so sorry. I... I didn't mean to walk in on you both like that." Much to Doyle's amusement, a flush began to creep up Murphy's face. "I..."
"You what? You wanted in, is that is?" Bodie entered the room. He took his coffee and moved to stand against the window. His face revealed nothing of what he must be feeling.
"No! No, I... Sorry." Murphy raised a hand, ruffling his hair. He took a deep breath then continued, "No, honestly, if I had known you two were..." His blush deepened, and Doyle caught the spark of amusement in Bodie's eyes. "There is no way I would have come... Um... Entere... Oh... Bollocks, you know what I mean." Finally Murphy ground to a halt. As Bodie and Doyle began to laugh, a wry grin appeared on Murphy's face.
"We know. Appropriate words, though, you must admit. Why were you here, though?" Doyle asked, smiling to reassure Murphy.
"Cowley gave me some info for you. Thought I would call round being as I was in the vicinity. When I saw the door on the latch, I was surprised, I must admit, being as Bodie's usually so meticulous. Was just going to tease him about it. And... Well... Didn't expect to be greeted by that particular performance."
"You could have just left." Bodie said softly. His tone and one cocked eyebrow asked Murphy why he hadn't.
"I could have, but my feet wouldn't let me." Murphy shrugged, "I can promise you this, I won't say a thing to anyone."
Doyle was relieved at having his worry dispelled without actually having to ask the question. He glanced at Bodie and saw his relief was echoed. Had it been any other agent than Murphy, it would have gone round Headquarters faster than Anson chain smoked. But Murphy was a trusted friend, and Doyle knew his promise was good. "Thanks, Murph, we appreciate it."
"We do. Thanks." Bodie held out his hand and an unsuspicious Murphy took it. There was a screech of surprise as Bodie yanked him out of his seat and pulled him closer. "Because, mate, if you do mention anything, I'll mention your frequent forays to the Duke of York. Understand?" Despite Bodie's smile, there was an underlying threat to his words.
Blush back with a vengeance, Murphy smiled, his embarrassment was clear. "Point taken. And now I'll leave you two lovebirds... Er... You two, to get on with whatever it was you were getting on with." He darted out before either Bodie or Doyle could register what he'd said and left, slamming the door behind him.
Shocked, Doyle turned towards Bodie. "You mean... Murphy... Our Murph, is gay? Why didn't you tell me? And how did you find that piece of info?"
"Was a while ago now. Just when I knew I'd be joining CI5. Went to celebrate, didn't I? Used to go to the Duke of York, being as it was the best gay pub in town. Sold the perfect pint too, and had reasonable prices. For London, that is." He paused, a dreamy expression on his face.
Doyle interrupted him. "For pity's sake, get on with it, Bodie. A man could die waiting for you to finish."
"Sorry, was just remembering the last pint I had in there." Doyle grimaced and rolled his eyes, and Bodie continued. "Anyway, when I got in there, I saw him on the dance floor, getting very cosy with another fella. He didn't, of course, see me. Couldn't think where I knew him from at first. Then I realised. Cowley had introduced him to me back at headquarters. Always knew it would come in handy one day." Bodie finished, a wide smile on his face.
Doyle rolled his eyes. "Well, all I can say is ..." A sudden thought hit him. "Hey, Murphy never gave us that important info, did he? Mind you, guess he did have a bit much on his mind."
"Give him fantasies for months, that will. If it had been Anson or any of the others, don't think I would have been quite as calm."
"I did wonder about that. You seemed so bleedin' unruffled when you discovered him there. More than I can say for me. And yes, with you on Anson." Doyle gave an exaggerated shudder.
"C'mon mate, you fancy a takeaway? I'm starving."
Little boy Bodie was back and giving him the puppy dog look. Doyle couldn't resist. "You're always starving after sex. No, sorry, scrap that. You are always starving. Full stop. Come on, then."
Doyle stood up and made for the phone, ignoring the blatantly untrue protests coming from his lover.
"We never did get that info from Murph, either, did we?" Bodie said sleepily. A huge yawn overtook him. "Bloody hell, mate, time for bed is it?"
His lover looked at the clock. "It's only 9:00 p.m., Bodie. You getting old or something?"
Eyebrows waggling and a lustful grin on his face, Bodie replied, "Did I mention to sleep?" He paused, reflecting on their past years. "Do you know we've been together almost thirty five years? Outlived Cowley, bless him. And Murphy. I was pleased when he and Jack got it together. They deserved a bit of happiness, didn't they?"
"Yeah. Shame they didn't have longer, isn't it? But I suppose, given our lifestyles, twenty odd years wasn't bad. Not as good as us, though."
"Top team, remember? Not many of the old lot left now, is there? Only Anson, and who'd have thought that with his smoking?"
"Well, he did give up, you know."
"He did? When?" Knowing he was setting himself up for a fall, Bodie sprung the trap.
"Last week, I think." Doyle laughed at Bodie's 'lets-tolerate-the-idiot' expression. "He was doing the garden when I rang. His missus answered. I dunno how she puts up with him you know. He was such a whinger wasn't he?"
"Before Cowley died, yes. But afterwards, he changed a lot. Made him grow up, I think. I had more respect for him afterwards."
A contemplative silence fell as both men remembered their colleagues, fallen and otherwise. Doyle frowned as Bodie continued to stare at him. "What? Smudge on my nose?"
"No, just thinking. You and me. Never would have believed that we'd be together so long. What I mean is, I knew I loved you the moment we met-"
"You mean you loved my arse. That's what you said earlier. The rest of me took a bit longer. Or so you said."
"I lied. I fell in love with you in Cowley's office. Didn't see thirty five years of wedded bliss coming, did I?"
"Not married yet, mate."
"No. Hey, you shouldn't be here, should you?" A frown appeared on Bodie's face.
"Say what?"
"Well, you know what they say. It's bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the ... Ow... Ouch... Leave off, Ray."
At Bodie's words, Doyle had pinched him. "One, I think it's too late for that. Two, if you think I'm going anywhere now you've got another thing coming. And three," he paused, waiting.
"Three?"
"Three, I want to make love with you tonight. My last night as a free man."
Here Bodie contradicted him. "No, mate. Your last night as a free man was that first night we fuc... Made love. Not tonight, just because we are making it official tomorrow."
There was a happy smile on Doyle's face as he stood up. "Very true mate." Recalling a film they'd seen and loved recently, he asked, "Well, what are you waiting for, cowboy? A mating call?"
'With that, Doyle sauntered out of the room, swinging his arse.
Bodie jumped to his feet and followed his lover. He saw, quite clearly, a shudder pass through Doyle's body as he called huskily, "I'm so glad I don't know how to quit you."
-- THE END --
June 2006
Archive Home