On the drive to his flat, Doyle felt the storm brewing in Bodie, but his tentative probes to discover the cause of his partner's brooding silence were ignored. Bodie kept his eyes on the road and drove like a man possessed. Doyle wasn't in the mood to get into it with him anyway, so, with a mental shrug, he surrendered and fell silent. He knew well and good that when Bodie got into one of these snits it was next to impossible to sweet talk him into a better frame of mind.

Doyle had no doubt that Bodie would let him know exactly what was bothering him in his own good time. But if Bodie wanted an argument tonight, he was on his own. Doyle wasn't having any of it. He was hungry and tired and wanted nothing more than a good meal and a hot bath. Add a stiff drink, and he would be a happy man.

Not that Bodie didn't have reason to be angry and irritable. They'd both had a hell of a day, and it didn't set well with either of them that their controller had sent them out on an op without a chance in hell of survival. It was only through sheer will and determination that they had both survived, along with their charge. No thanks to bloody Cowley and his pack of fellow bureaucrats. He and Bodie been pushed about like pieces on a chess board. Expendable pieces. That also hadn't sat well with either of them for some odd reason, Doyle mused sarkily.

Slumped against the passenger door, Doyle watched the reflection of the street lamps play off the car's bonnet as they wound their way down his road. He almost smiled when the fates decided not to test Bodie's temper any further by denying him an empty parking space directly in front of Doyle's building. But Bodie's attitude didn't seem assuaged by his good fortune. He stomped on the brakes, skidded to a halt amidst a squeal of tires, and manoeuvred the car into the space without saying a word.

By the time Doyle climbed from the car, Bodie had already made his way to the pavement, where he waited impatiently, one foot tapping and hands jammed deeply into his pockets. Even through the jacket material, Doyle could see that Bodie's hands were clenched into fists and again he wondered exactly what was eating him. But from the cold glare that snapped from dark eyes, he knew he wasn't going to get any reasonable explanation out here in the street.

With a shrug, he headed to his flat, ignoring his irritating partner, who followed closely at his heels, practically walking on the backs of his trainers. One more bump into his back, and he'd elbow Bodie right in the gut.

Determined to keep his temper under control, Doyle unlocked the door and stepped through. Before he could politely ask Bodie if he would like a drink or something to eat, he was slammed, face first, against the inside of his own front door. When Bodie's forearm pressed across his shoulders, Doyle let out a surprised "oomph."

Bodie's laboured breath scorched the back of Doyle's neck, burning a spot there, he was sure, and he shivered at the intensity of the harsh sound and the heat that prickled along his skin.

"Bodie..." Doyle whispered roughly, suddenly and fiercely aroused at the feel of Bodie's body pressed against his, the hard chest covering his back, the heated crotch cupping his arse.

Bodie's hips jerked. "Shut up," he ordered, shoving his arm against Doyle's shoulders for emphasis. "Just... don't say a word."

Doyle blinked slowly, his chest tight with desire, so that each breath was a struggle. He saw Bodie's hand flash in front of his face as it snaked out to flip the levers on both locks, and it was a comforting gesture. They were safe behind closed doors. They'd survived, in spite of Cowley's games. They were together... The sharp snap of the locks echoed in Doyle's head, and he groaned softly, suddenly knowing exactly what his partner wanted. What he needed.

"Did you think you could do that to me and I wouldn't notice?" Bodie hissed menacingly, each word piercing into Doyle's brain like jabs of cold steel. "Did you?" And with each word, Bodie firmly thrust his hips, grinding Doyle's pelvis into the hard wood. "Do I look daft to you?"

"I didn't-"

Bodie's hand threaded through Doyle's hair and pulled his head backwards where his mouth was taken in a rough, wet kiss. Doyle gave a passing thought to shoving Bodie away and demanding that he be released, but as Bodie's tongue probed his mouth, he knew that was the last thing he wanted.

Doyle moaned deeply under the relentless oral assault and he knew that what he really wanted was to be fucked, and he wanted it now. He wanted Bodie like this -- demanding and possessive, and so fucking sexy that Doyle was ready to explode in his already tight jeans if the man didn't do something soon. Very soon.

He reveled in the arousal that coursed through his body as his head was pulled further backwards and Bodie's tongue continued to probe his mouth. Bodie didn't let up even when a whimper rose unbidden from the back of Doyle's throat. Doyle shifted his hips as his aching cock was painfully shoved again and again into the door, and Bodie's lips and tongue worked their magic until Doyle felt his knees shake. Only Bodie could do this to him, send him right to the edge of consciousness until a rainbow of lights flashed wildly behind his tightly closed eyes and he felt himself grow woozy.

He couldn't help himself as he sagged in Bodie's strong grasp. Bodie's mouth ripped away from his. Between ragged breaths, Bodie rasped, "No, you don't, mate. No fainting on me. I have too much to do to you yet."

Doyle breathed harshly as well, taking in great gulps of air as his fingers scrabbled against the wood. "Fuck," he finally managed to blurt out.

"We'll get to that soon enough," Bodie growled, abruptly releasing Doyle's head. When Doyle groaned at the sudden movement, Bodie's hand briefly rested against his scalp in a quick caress before moving away. "You slut," Bodie said softly, intently. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he repeated.

"Notice what?" Doyle said, his throat dry and his voice breaking. His cock ached and he wriggled uncomfortably, but Bodie's hold was unrelenting.

"That fucking patch! All day long, you waggled your arse in my face, and that patch was like a bloody bullseye. Every time I looked, your bum was facing me. Every damned time. It wiggled and beckoned. It called to me all sodding day!"

Doyle weakly shook his head in protest. "I didn't-"

Their gazes met.

"Don't lie to me."

"You didn't say anything," Doyle said, casting Bodie what he hoped was a look of contrition.

"We were working, you stupid..." Bodie's eyes widened before they narrowed suspiciously. "You little shit. You knew! You knew that somewhere, in the back of my mind, all I would see was that blue square!"

"I never!" Doyle protested, even as he felt Bodie twist slightly and a hand skim across his bum, fingers trailing down the center seam of his jeans. He twitched at the sensation.

"Right," Bodie said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're a picture of innocence, mate."

Before Doyle could further defend that innocence, Bodie's knowing fingers found a weak spot in the patch and yanked. The room echoed the sounds of their combined harsh breathing and the popping of thread.

Bodie's fingers snaked into the hole, and he let out a bark of surprised laugher. "Ray! You are a slut! There's absolutely nothing between your skin and that patch!"

Doyle shuddered as Bodie's fingers caressed the exposed skin. "Oh, shit! Bodie!" he shouted when the fingers delved under the torn fabric and probed at his center.

"Got to get at it," Bodie muttered. Suddenly, he moved away, and Doyle nearly fell when his support disappeared. But Bodie's strong arms snagged him, and before he could question what was going to happen next, Doyle found himself propelled into the kitchen and spread face down on the table with his toes barely touching the floor.

"Bodie, what about the bed?" Doyle protested, but any further thoughts of complaint vanished when Bodie's hands found his arse once again.

"Too far," Bodie grumbled as his hands grabbed each side of the hole that the patch had previously covered, and pulled. With a grunt of approval, Bodie's teeth latched onto Doyle's cheek, and Doyle shouted out at the pain/pleasure of it.

"Like that, do you?" Bodie asked before his mouth found its target yet again.

"Damn you!" Doyle cried, squirming under Bodie's hands that held his hips firmly. "Get the sodding jeans off!" he demanded. He tried to use one foot to push the shoe off the other, desperate to shed both them and the too-hot, too-tight denim.

"Not on your life. Like you like this. Your parts exposed." Bodie's fingers trailed along Doyle's arse.

"For chrissake!" Doyle yelled, fingers scrabbling under him for his own belt. "Get these off!. Going crazy here, Bodie. Now, damn you!"

"Damn it all," Bodie growled and yanked Doyle upright.

Reaching around, Bodie fumbled with the buckle until Doyle impatiently smacked his hands away to shakily unbuckle and unzip himself. He had barely got the zip down when Bodie let out an impatient sound and hurriedly wrenched the jeans down. Doyle was thankful that his cock wasn't ripped off at the root. Then Bodie used one foot to push the jeans down around his ankles, but with his shoes still on, wiggle as he might, there was no way he could climb out of them. With his ankles now securely bound, Doyle found himself face down on the table once again, his arse in the air.

"Like having your legs hampered. Can control you like this." Bodie found that sweet spot right behind Doyle's balls. "Hard to control at times. But like this..." His fingernail lightly scraped. "You're mine. Didn't like you making up to that girl. She couldn't give you what you need."

"Bodie..." Doyle groaned when Bodie's hands covered his arse cheeks and kneaded them. "Gonna explode here if you don't hurry the fuck up! Christ!"

"Hang about. Don't you dare move," Bodie ordered, smacking his backside sharply.

Bodie suddenly moved away, and Doyle let out a growl of impatience. He heard the sounds of a cupboard door opening, cans and bottles being shifted, and then Bodie hands were all over him again. Fingers spread him as wide as they could in his current position and he held his breath when they breached his opening, slipping in quickly. "What...?"

"Salad oil," Bodie replied at the unfinished question. "Extra virgin," he added with an amused snort. He fucked Doyle's arse for a few strokes before he pulled his fingers out, making Doyle gasp.

Doyle heard the sound of a zip seconds before fingers spread him again. He hurriedly latched his hands onto the sides of the table and anchored himself just in time. In the next breath, he felt his lover's thick cock, in a hot, oily rush, seated itself fully.

"Ray!"

"Oh, God," Doyle gasped, trying to spread his legs wider.

In their awkward position, Bodie straddled Doyle. He hung onto the table as Bodie planted a hand on either side of his head and thrust wildly. Doyle held on and prayed that the table didn't collapse under their combined weight and Bodie's enthusiastic lovemaking.

Bodie grunted and shifted his hips as he pulled back. Then he pushed in again, nailing Doyle's prostate. When Doyle's howl of pleasure echoed through the small room, Bodie muttered, "Here, bite on this, before the neighbours call the police."

Doyle laughed wildly when he saw the errant denim patch appear in front of him. He opened his mouth, biting down on the material that Bodie shoved between his teeth. Bodie's thrusts became erratic, and Doyle felt his lover's cock swell deep in his body right before he heard Bodie's triumphant cry of completion.

God, but he loved Bodie like this. Wild and demanding. Needing him. Loving him. He revelled in the fact that he could make Bodie crazy enough to use him like this. He loved the idea that Bodie had to have him, right here, right now. Calm, cool, stoic Bodie, losing control. It was the stuff of his best dreams.

Bodie let out a final groan before he collapsed on top of him. Doyle closed his eyes and shuddered, his own body's needs still unfulfilled. Bodie must have felt his quaking because soon busy hands were caressing him along his flanks.

"Damn it all. Sorry, lover," Bodie said softly, carefully removing the denim from Doyle's mouth before kissing him lightly on the cheek. Bodie pushed himself upright, and after cautiously pulling out of Doyle, he helped him to his feet. "All your fault, you know."

Doyle smiled, turning towards his lover. "Nothin' to be sorry for."

"May I?" Bodie asked politely, his face serious as he reached out to palm Doyle's thick flesh.

"Wish you would," Doyle answered, equally polite before he chuckled. "But first, can you get these sodding jeans off?"

Laughing, Bodie quickly knelt down and dispatched shoes and torn jeans before he rose, still grinning. Reaching to the counter for a bottle, he dumped more of the salad oil onto his hand and coated Doyle's cock.

"Bedroom?" Doyle asked yet again, thrusting into the tunnel of Bodie's fist.

"No," Bodie said, an evil grin crossing his lips. "Right here."

Doyle gasped and pushed his hips forward, his hands planted on Bodie's shoulders. With his partner's hand dancing a merry tune on his cock, he soon found himself flat on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor with Bodie straddling him. Doyle blinked dazedly through the haze of lust as he was stroked with a touch too light to finish the job but enough to make him absolutely crazy with desire. He was so aroused, he could barely think.

"Hey, when did you get naked?" he finally asked, a daft grin on his face, he was sure. Bodie just grinned as he cupped his balls and rubbed his perineum. "Bodie!" His eyes closed, and his body focused on getting off. When Bodie's hands moved way, his eyes flew open and he protested wildly. "Jesus, finish it! Or I'll finish it meself!"

"Ray," Bodie whispered, leaning down to fuse their mouths together.

For the moment, Doyle forgot about everything but the feel of Bodie's mouth on his. Bodie's kisses stole his breath from his body and ripped all rational thought right out of his mind. He shivered when Bodie's hand slipped under his shirt and twisted his nipple. Doyle arched upward, his cries of arousal muffled by Bodie's mouth.

When Bodie finally freed his lips and smiled down at him, the warmth spilling from the dark blue eyes made Doyle shiver with delight.

"Love you, Raymond."

"Yeah," Doyle said, an answering smile playing across his lips.

"How's this?" Bodie asked as he lowered himself onto Doyle's cock.

Before Doyle could respond, he was fully sheathed in his lover's body. "Ah, Christ, Bodie. Feels good. I'm not going to last..."

"Thought you'd like it." Bodie wiggled his hips. "Where's that bloody patch?"

"What?" Doyle asked, barely able to concentrate amidst the crash of feelings -- love, lust, need...

Bodie sat back on his hips, grinning happily. With his shirt askew and covered in salad oil, he looked incredibly self-satisfied and delightfully edible. Doyle laughed out loud at his messy lover. There was even salad oil in Bodie's hair, which stood on end in glistening spikes.

"Ah ha!" Bodie reached out towards the table, his hand returning with the blue square. "Open up."

Doyle once again accepted the fabric between his teeth as Bodie leaned forward onto his hands and began to ride Doyle's cock. Doyle bit down even harder, thrusting upward on each of Bodie's downward strokes. His eyes closed.

"Look at me when you come, sunshine," Bodie ordered. "Look at me, love."

Doyle's eyes flew open at Bodie's soft command. With their gazes locked, Bodie rode Doyle's cock, pleasure etched on his face. When Bodie clamped his muscles tightly, with a shout, Doyle came hard and fast.

"Good lad," Bodie said playfully, pulling the makeshift gag from Doyle's mouth to kiss him once again before he carefully pushed himself off.

"Okay?" Doyle asked when he saw Bodie's small grimace.

"Salad oil isn't the best, mate."

"You're the one who wouldn't wait. There was proper lube in the bedroom."

Bodie shrugged, helping Doyle to his feet. "We're a fright."

"No, you're not."

"Eh? I'm covered in oil, and we just spent hours carousing all over the country, running from idiots, being shot at... I'm smelly and dirty-"

"Just the way I like it." Doyle smiled and moved closer, his hands resting on Bodie's hips. "The way I like you. Randy and pushy. Now give us a kiss. And in a bit, after a shower and dinner and a bit of a kip, I have some new ideas." With a laugh, he asked, "Now where's that bloody patch?"

-- THE END --

December 2007