It was not pretty, and it was not nice. From the first they got on each other's nerves and nearly two years of working together did not blunt that clash of personalities but finally weaved it together into a working whole. Now they relied on the differences, counted on the fact that one could take the lead into unknown waters without letting his partner drown. It was not about getting along, it was about trust. Friendship came with that package, but still, sometimes it was not easy.

Something like those thoughts crossed Doyle's mind as he held Bodie's head with both hands and shoved his tongue into his mouth. He was pushing with his whole body, walking Bodie backwards into some kind of furniture, anything he could use to take out Bodie's balance and bring him down. Bodie was not fighting back but he was not helping matters, playing it more like a brick wall than an angry bull. That surprised Doyle a little, but then, Bodie's nerves had been off kilter for a while and this was just another symptom of everything going wrong, most recently the case, which got Marshall killed after less than one year in CI5, and which nearly got Doyle killed in the bargain. A half second was the window that Bodie had to work his magic and he did, saving his partner but not the case which imploded under politics and 'diplomatic immunity.' Cowley tried every trick he could but sometimes, even his rank held no weight in matters of national policy. Not that these setbacks were unknown to them all, but Bodie took everything particularly hard this time.

Finally they tripped over the coffee table and Bodie's martial arts training took over, rolling them instinctively into a safe fall backwards to the floor. Doyle managed to keep one hand on Bodie's face as they crumpled, grabbing Bodie's jacket when his other hand became dislodged. He knew that Bodie would get them to the ground together and without serious damage and his trust was once again justified, Bodie's arms wrapping Doyle to him to brace for impact. They both lost their breath as they landed, and Bodie rolled to put himself over him. Doyle felt muscles bunching up in preparation of Bodie pushing off him, so he threw himself into the momentum and kept rolling until he was on top. The kiss broke at the last second but Doyle threw himself back into it, and Bodie let him -- tense, waiting for a break point, but participating.

When they walked through the door earlier, Doyle already had a plan of attack in mind. It was not something he ever expected to launch against his own partner, after two years of denying himself even the fantasy of Bodie's body. Doyle liked women and men in equal measure and took great care to conceal that from the whole world, but he learned quickly that anything they wanted to hide from everyone else, they could not hide from each other. Doyle knew about Bodie's nightmares, the night shakes, and why he never, ever drank rum. And Bodie knew that Doyle was queer. They did not talk about these things, but they both knew. In some ways, they were already more intimate than lovers, and maybe that is what finally tripped Bodie's wire.

It was a double date two weeks before, during a long five day break from work begrudgingly granted by Cowley for work well done. After dinner, the two fine women Bodie corralled were finally talked back to Bodie's apartment. Music, drinks, and many lies later it was down to Doyle and his choice on the sofa, pulling her to him and kissing her softly. He enjoyed starting slowly, testing the waters, and he let one hand drift down to the thigh peeking out from the slit in her dress and he sighed to the feel of suspenders. He pulled some more, dragging her half onto his lap, but something about the sounds around him made him open his eyes and check on Bodie.

He was on the lounger chair, the girl already in his lap, nibbling at his neck and any sensible man would have his hands all over the soft flesh pressing against him. Doyle kept kissing as shock registered: Bodie was watching him, one hand curled into a fist into the chair's upholstery. Not just glancing at him or watching the 'action;' no, Bodie was wound up like a top as he stared, utterly focused with every cell of his being on Doyle. The girl in Bodie's lap murmured encouragingly and ground against him, clearly pushing into what was happening in Bodie's groin and in that flash moment, Bodie's eyes locked on him and Doyle felt like he was looking straight down the gullet of hell -- hot, blistering, passionate hell -- because they both knew that what was happening had nothing to do with her.

Doyle tore his eyes away, and eventually events continued in separate rooms that night, pleasantly enough as far as the girls were concerned, but the following two weeks were right out of that hell that Doyle saw in Bodie's eyes. There was no talking, no discussion, not even veiled threats of bodily harm. Bodie shut down like a machine and no one could see that except Doyle, who knew his moods too well not to know when Bodie was trying to throw one over on him. Bodie was mad, he was furious, he was confused and he blamed it all on Doyle.

The disastrous case worsened an already bad situation and after they left headquarters and a cussing Cowley, Doyle stood by while Bodie kicked a tin trash bin to death in the alley out back the building. Bodie finally stopped, breathing heavily, and refused to look at Doyle at all. That was it, for Doyle, the final straw. Something had to break and obviously, that something was going to be Bodie, or their partnership.

In his best 'buddy' voice he invited the silent tower of rage back to his flat. It was make or break time: the issue was never going to just go away, nothing was ever going to return to the way it was before Doyle looked Bodie in the eyes and saw desire. He was not sure if Bodie thought he was pretending like it never happened, or that he was handling it well, but neither was the case. It was a matter of charging head on into the problem like they always did with everything else in their lives, and wait for success or destruction. Never a middle path, for them in CI5 or with each other. All or nothing, and Doyle hated that choice but he was ready to face it, because he was very good at doing those terrible things that had to be done.

The second they were inside Doyle shoved Bodie forward, not quite throwing him off balance but making him spin in surprise, and then Doyle reached out and was on him, kissing him full on like he rarely kissed women, harsh and demanding and fast. He waited for Bodie to catch up and either take it or hit him. Doyle gave it fifty-fifty odds either way.

Now as he straddled Bodie on the floor he felt the erection pressing back against him but Bodie was not reacting otherwise. Once the rolling around ended with Doyle on top, Bodie's arms went slack and to the floor and he was kissing, a little, just enough to keep Doyle from stopping. This was not quite make-or-break behavior, in fact it was damn close to the 'middle path' that neither of them ever took. Doyle pulled himself up and propped his upper body up with arms, his hands to either side of Bodie's shoulders.

"How about it, then, mate?"

Bodie stared at him, eyes squinting, quiet and critical.

Doyle laid back down, figuring an answer was a long shot anyway, and decided to keep the reins. "Gonna fuck you." He whispered into Bodie's ear. No reaction. "Right here, on the floor." He kissed Bodie's neck and felt a twinge of muscles. "Because you want it." He sucked on skin and began unbuttoning his shirt. He felt muscles contract, a back draft of energy being sucked into Bodie's whole being, and Doyle braced for the explosion, waiting for Bodie to come out fighting.

"Oh Christ, Ray..." Bodie groaned, his whole body rolling in release as he gave in to what was happening. He tipped his head back and wrapped his arms around Doyle with a vice grip. Doyle planted his lips down on Bodie's mouth and began sucking, and the tongue war began in earnest. Doyle was certain there would be fallout to this, but if Bodie was going to try and kill him, he would have done it by now. As Doyle worked at their clothes, a lonely task as Bodie refused to move his arms from where they were clamped around his torso, Doyle realized that Bodie must have been thinking about this. A surprised Bodie was a frightening force of nature, whether he shut down or blew up, either way it was an awesome sight, but this was not Bodie acting surprised. Conflicted, maybe, worried probably, but not surprised. Doyle snickered, wondering if which of them lost a bet that would end in a thorough shagging, because obviously Bodie bet on Doyle pushing the matter to this point. Part of his bastardly attitude of the last two weeks was probably anticipation.

Doyle squirmed until Bodie's arms loosened up, and then pulled up his vest to start kissing down his chest. Bodie groaned and hummed and ran a hand through Doyle's tangled locks until he got down to just above his bellybutton. Suddenly Bodie's hands locked onto Doyle's upper arms and jerked.

"No. Not that."

Doyle just nodded, accepting the limitation for now. He loved blowjobs but this really was not about him, it was about them and if he did not play this right, Cowley would be asking one of them where the other was buried.

So, he decided on frottage. Safe. Not quite so intimate. A good place to start. He ground his hips down as he drifted back up to kiss Bodie's mouth, trying to balance so he could pull his own shirt and vest off. It was a delicate act that did not quite work, and Doyle chuckled when he felt Bodie start to help him take the clothes off. Doyle ground down harder, their cocks pressing through their trousers, and in that moment something clicked. Bodie pulled back, his hands still wrapped up in Doyle's shirt, and stared at him. It was that look of desire and lust Doyle first saw two weeks ago and it was melting Doyle in many, many ways because he had dreamed of it for years -- an unacknowledged lust that he sublimated for so long he thought sometimes it actually did not exist. But it did, and he felt himself starting to pant, flushing hard as he ground down his hips again instinctively. Bodie took off in response, planting his feet on the floor and grinding up and all but ripping Doyle's shirts off. Doyle began rolling his hips, rubbing their cocks together and it was brilliant, starting a fire through his nerves that nearly sent him to shaking. Doyle wrapped his arms under Bodie's shoulders, those magnificent, strong shoulders that he nearly worshipped in his fantasy life, and clung to him, pounding down. Bodie was gasping and growling and thrusting back up and this was not a moment for romantic endearments as they raced each other to climax.

Doyle felt himself thrown backwards. He landed on his hip and stared at Bodie, half naked and his perfect, creamy skin flushed pink. Bodie sat up and undid his belt and trousers and shoved them down, and whatever questions Doyle had about the situation stalled as Bodie stood up, completely naked, his cock bright and hard and defying gravity. Doyle finally managed to look up at his face.

"Not on the floor." Bodie turned and walked up the stairs into the bed room. Stunned, Doyle sat there for a long second before jumping up to follow. As he walked through the door, a hand shot out, grabbed his arm, and sent him sailing onto the bed. He rolled over as Bodie landed on him, starting to wrestle with his hand and arms. Unsure of what exactly they were fighting over at this point, Doyle put up only a half hearted attempt, but that only encouraged Bodie's savageness. A sharp twist to his elbow finally pissed him off, and Doyle slammed a fist into Bodie's side, making him gasp but not stopping the assault. Doyle knew it was something of a hopeless cause, because he was not willing to hurt Bodie and that was what it would take to stop him, because he was simply heavier and stronger. The matter was settled with Doyle on his stomach, one arm twisted painfully behind his back, Bodie straddling him and breathing heavily into his ear. "So I'm your girl?"

"So you fuck me first. I get you in the morning. We're even; I don't care, lost my pride in this a long time ago. When your shagging anonymous bastards in a bathroom you take whatever is on offer."

"Lately?"

"Not since I joined, mate. Not worth the risk..." Doyle shrugged as best he could from his pinned position. "Easier for a copper, plenty of gays in the force. Locker room buddies."

Bodie let go and crawled off him. He sat, his legs crossed, watching carefully as Doyle untangled himself and sat up. Bodie lowered his head but fixed his eyes on Doyle. "All the way?"

Doyle nodded. "No in between. You know what I am. What I expect. Now's your chance, there's the way out." Doyle waved at the door. "If you don't think you can handle it."

Bodie's jaw jutted out at the challenge. "Won't change anything."

"Fuck's sake, it'll change everything." Doyle crossed his arms and tried not to focus all of his attention on Bodie's dick. "An' you know it. Why the hell you think I never pushed it? Give over, Bodie: if I fuck you now, I'm getting what I always wanted and I won't give it up easy."

Bodie's eyes flashed dangerously, reminded Doyle yet again that even naked with a hard on the man was deadly. Doyle kept playing it nonchalant. Normal. Bodie needed normal right now.

"Bodie, I want this. But you want a quickie to get me out of your system, it ain't goin' to work that way. All or nothing."

Bodie continued to think, and Doyle had enough. They were not girls having a heart to heart about true love, and Doyle shifted onto his knees, moving forward into Bodie's personal space. "Not on the floor, then," he said, and mashed onto him.

He was surprised at first that Bodie reacted much at all, but Bodie did, running his hands over his skin, pinching his nipples, massaging his arms. They rolled to their sides on the bed, facing each other, hands roaming and hips gently pushing against each other as they kissed.

"Damnit, Bodie...ahh..." Doyle sucked in air.

"Surprised?"

"Yeah."

"You know me, Ray," Bodie said, licking a stripe down Doyle's neck. "All or nothing."

"Not convincing me this is your first time out, mate..." Doyle gasped again as nipples were pinched and Bodie pushed, rolling onto his back and pulling Doyle over him.

"Never said it was."

Doyle stalled in surprise and Bodie took that moment to pull his legs up and wrap them high above Doyle's hips, moving his hands down under his own arse to start undoing Doyle's trousers. The only word that registered in Doyle's brain at that was 'flexible.' He felt his trousers pushed down his thighs and thanked God that he was regimental that day as his bold and impatient cock flopped out on top of Bodie's. Both men groaned and Doyle began moving his hips automatically.

"So much for romance," Bodie stuttered with a grin as Doyle humped him, rubbing their cocks together.

"Oh, shut it." Doyle snarled and shifted over and down to reach into his bedside table drawer, pulling out lube. He slicked up his fingers, concentrating on was he doing, ignoring Bodie's surprisingly quiet observations. He reached down between them and slid his finger's over Bodie's hole, just back and forth over the entrance, moving his fingers as if they were his tongue, teasing and circling and just barely pressuring in. Bodie moaned softly and dropped his head, closing his eyes. Doyle pushed in one finger gently, barely the tip, and called Bodie's lie. "Real professional you are." He grimaced, pushing a little harder into the incredibly tight mass of muscles.

"Exercises...muscle control...should try it..." Bodie stuttered again as Doyle finally worked his finger all the way in. He wrinkled his nose in pain and it was flat out adorable, although Doyle thought he might lose his own dick if he said as much. He just smiled.

"Like hell."

"Just as hot," Bodie tried to gasp in pleasure and snort derisively at the same time, and he coughed instead.

Doyle was the experienced on here, though, whatever Bodie tried to claim, and he worked slowly and patiently despite his desperation. He wanted to make this so good that Bodie would beg for more, because really that was Doyle's plan all along: keep Bodie, at all costs. For so long that meant keeping his distance, playing off the jokes, enjoying the double dates ending in separate rooms. Now it possibly meant giving Bodie the shagging of his life, complete with earth shattering orgasm...no pressure, Doyle thought with a grimace.

He looked at Bodie's face and saw it, then, and knew. Bits and pieces of history he never put together before slid into place, and yes, he might be Bodie's first in this but there was history there: hand jobs or blow jobs or shared boys or something. Bodie was not straight man freaking out on the gay, he was simply crossing a line for the first time. "Africa." Doyle stated simply, and Bodie nodded. That was all, it was enough, and Doyle quietly slipped in a second finger to work at the tension.

Three geological epochs later, Doyle pulled out three fingers with the idea that this was as far as fingers would get him, short of fisting, and he was not so proud as to claim his dick was thicker than his fist. He slicked his cock down, trying not to whine from the sensation, then gently moved Bodie's legs to rest against his shoulders, effectively folding him in half. Throughout the process he had purposefully not looked Bodie in the eye, not faced him down man to man, because he did not want to give him any reason to break. Now as he lined up his cock, shining slick with lube and nearly purple from blood pressure, he looked up. Bodie smiled at him, Doyle grinned, and pushed. The head of his cock barely popped in and Bodie stifled a pained groan. Doyle felt for him, a little, but not enough, and moved forward to angle down and in. He pushed his hips again and this time sound escaped Bodie in a long, breathless noise that ground down Doyle's spine, but he saw that Bodie was still smiling. That smug grin.

"Bastard!" Doyle shoved hard and sank down all the way to his balls, but the reaction he expected from Bodie did not happen -- the man froze, grimacing, his body clinched up around Doyle in several ways. "You lying or not?" Doyle stopped, panting, wondering.

Bodie shook his head as he took a deep breath. "No. First time...just knew...you...would..."

"Would I? Easy date, am I?" Doyle snarled, annoyed, and snapped his hips. Bodie gasped but then laughed, in pain and perhaps delirious. "I'm not the one spread open on the half shell, here."

Bodie breathed in again and looked up at Doyle, his eyes dilated and open like Doyle never saw outside of his laughter. He moved his hands to clasp Doyle's face, his eyes light but his expression serious for once. "Fierce beautiful fucker...do me." They stopped and looked at each other, quiet and still, and Doyle turn it on. He trapped Bodie's legs under his arms and clasped his hands around Bodie's upper arms, almost at the shoulder, and began pounding. He shifted once or twice as Bodie groaned under him and finally Bodie's hips started thrusting back as the man whined. Doyle knew what he was doing and he was doing it to someone he really wanted for once, not a quick shag after too many drinks but instead Bodie, perfect and hard and smiling like his own angel, his head rolling back and his eyes closed. Their bodies slammed together, rocking along the bed, and Bodie's breaths became so short they could have been hiccups. Doyle took the cue, feeling the coiling muscles under him, and moved one hand to start pumping Bodie's cock. Three hard strokes and the man was undone, bucking up and biting his lower lip, his fingers curling into Bodie's skin. Doyle slowed down to compensate for the sensations, letting Bodie recover.

"Oh?" Bodie shook his head and looked up at Doyle questioningly. Doyle smiled, feeling feral and wild, and slammed back in, his pace and pressure ruthless, building himself up to explode. He thought a gentleman would have held off, been careful with his lover's first time, but Doyle knew Bodie was not expecting that and would not respect it. They were here for each other, up to the hilt and down to their balls and that, Doyle thought as he felt his back tingling and his abdominal muscles clinch painfully, was their love: boundless, harsh, ruthless and raw. He spasmed as he came, vaguely hearing Bodie react in surprise at the sensation, crying his own need into Bodie's chest.

They gasped together, pulling apart only far enough for comfort as they readjusted. They smelled of sweat and cum and saliva and it was marvelous, it was perfect and everything Doyle wanted it to be. He looked up at Bodie, whose eyes were closed, but who lifted his arms to wrap around him.

"We good?" Doyle asked, feeling lazy but sincere as he laid his head back down on Bodie's chest.

"Good enough for government work, sunshine." Bodie grinned, and Doyle laughed. He rubbed his cheek against Bodie's skin.

"You were right." Doyle laughed.

"Mmm?"

"Nothing's changed." Doyle kissed his chest and rolled onto his side, pulling Bodie to him as he reached back to turn off the lamp.

-- THE END --

May 2008