For The Gang who keep me sane when all else fails.

Drop by, Bodie said. A few beers, he said. Monday night and a sports special on the tube; Liverpool versus PSV Eindhoven in some European cup tie.

Ann hadn't said a word--Ray knew she'd want to watch the documentary on Two. So he gave his best boyish grin and got himself out of her flat.

Bodie's invite was just the ticket. It would kill two birds with one stone--get him away from Ann for a few hours and catch up with what was happening with Bodie these days.

Perhaps he was spending a bit too much time with Ann, Ray mused. Ann was great, no question, but he knew he tended to overdose rather, early on in relationships. He was probably crowding the girl. He felt a bit stifled himself, truth be told.

And anyway, Bodie was such a part of his life, in and out of work, it began to dawn on Ray that he actually missed the old sod when he wasn't around. Not that he'd ever admit it of course, Bodie was big-headed enough as it was. With cause, most of the time.

He stopped off at Victoria Wines on the way over to Kilburn to get some tins--Bodie was a vocal and very thirsty viewer. He bought some gin for himself; Bodie could be banked on to have the tonics and the lemons and the ice, but the expensive bit always seemed to get left off his shopping list somehow.

Ray smiled for no reason at all and drove off, weaving through the traffic with the easy competence of the police-trained.

He heralded his arrival by a short blast on the horn, in direct contravention of several by-laws, then made his way up to the top floor where Bodie was roosting these days. The flats formed the four walls of a quadrangle that had a tidy garden in the middle; the landings opened into this central well.

Built between the wars, it was a red brick fortress but the apartments were substantial with sturdy walls, two bedrooms (three if you counted the box-room) and Ray was more than a little fed up that Locations had found this perch for Bodie while he still languished in the so-called "mews" that he privately referred to as Anne Frank's Annexe.

The car horn had alerted the occupant, and the door was opened promptly. "Kick off in ten minutes," Bodie said with barely a glance and Ray had the good sense to get himself inside sharpish and let Bodie lock the door after him.

Ray made his way to the kitchen and stored his alcoholic offerings appropriately. His nose twitched at the smell from the oven--Sanam Take Away coming up trumps again. Nice of Bodie to wait too, before opening the cartons. Tikka masala from the aroma, Ray judged; Bodie's favourite.

"Oi Porky, you get the food sorted and I'll open the cans," Ray hollered. Bodie meandered in and set to with oven gloves and forks. Plates were disdained as 'sissy'--watching the footie on the box calls for eating out of the container. Bodie returned to the living room, Ray dogging his heels and they settled on opposite ends of the sofa.

It was debatable who they slagged off the most, the referee or the commentator. PSV's defence was incompetent, but the "Reds" striker--Bodie was obscenely scathing.

Fed, watered and quite content, Ray let him get on with it and regarded Bodie with affection and a nice, cosy little feeling of belonging. Ray had stretched out on the sofa (something Ann frowned on heavily) while Bodie had gone to lie--tummy down--on the floor, chin propped in hands: a lazy sprawl of goodnatured handsome well being.

Feeling evil all at once Ray sat up and propped his feet, ankles casually crossed, upon Bodie's corduroy clad buttocks.

"If you are going to walk on me, at least take your shoes off," Bodie said, without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Fair enough," Ray agreed and toe-ed out of his trainers.

"I hope they don't smell," Bodie said, over one shoulder, then became engrossed in the television again. Ray grinned and flexed his toes, digging them into the firm globes of Bodie's bottom. Bodie suffered in stoic silence, like an indulgent owner with a mischievous cat.

Half time. "Come on then, wobble bottom, your turn to get the beer from the kitchen while I take a leak," Ray bossed.

"Watch it tin-ribs, who are you calling names? A posterior of positively perfect proportions that is mate, not just something for you to warm your feet on." Bodie scowled in mock ferocity and lumbered to his feet. He went out into the kitchen, swinging his hips in a Mae West fashion.

Ray laughed aloud--eh, but Bodie was funny sometimes. Without surprise Ray realised how much he really liked Bodie--just being with him made Ray happier. He'd some odd ways and that vicious streak--but you'd have to go a long way and look pretty hard to find a better bloke.

Bodie slinked back in, still Mae West-ing for all he was worth.

"Sorry love, you haven't got the figure for it," Ray spluttered.

Bodie looked suitably crestfallen. "Should I have the op. then?"

"You do that butch and I'll announce our engagement in the Times."

"Ooo, this is so sudden!" Bodie squeaked and flung himself onto the sofa and kissed Ray's cheek with a loud, wet smacking sound.

"Gerrof!" Ray was practically crying by now, laughing so much it hurt. Just the picture of Bodie as anything other than five foot eleven-odd inches of bone, muscle and temper was enough to crack him up, but Bodie slobbering over him was just hysterical.

"If you were a woman, I would marry you," he managed, between giggles.

Bodie smiled his special smile, the one that could paralyse you with its charm, "Ray dear, if you were a man, I'd let you."

They watched out the rest of the game, Bodie a substantial weight all down Ray's left hand side, close enough for comfort, but not close enough to smother. Just like the man himself, Ray mused, feeling profound after his seventh drink. The one perfect friend of a lifetime, he said to himself as Bodie stowed him in the second bedroom to sleep it off, the one perfect friend....

---

Bodie had paid over the fiver to Murphy with casual good grace. Murphy had scooped the pool by predicting it would take Ray seventeen days to get laid after breaking up with Ann Holly. Bodie had backed twenty days at longer odds and lost. He shrugged it off--it was only a fiver and it had been a laugh, him and the lads laying bets on Ray's sex life. Randy bugger, Bodie leered inwardly.

It was business as usual. Bodie spared the time to think about it and was genuinely glad that Ray was getting over Ann so easily and just a little bit smug--he'd known all along that Ray had not been in love with her at all.

His Ray could never love anyone as cold as Ann Holly. He needed a bit of tender loving care; under all that temper and fierceness he was about the most vulnerable beggar Bodie had ever met. God knows what would happen to him if he didn't have old Bodie to watch his back. Bodie shook his head ruefully, fondly, and had sudden strange memories of the feel of Ray's cheek against his lips that night when they were watching the footie and pratting about.

Bodie blinked twice, very quickly, and felt the way he had when he'd first learned to strip, clean and re-fit his rifle in the dark. He was still for almost a full minute and then his only thought was--well of course I love him. Naturally.

It began to rain. The Charing Cross Road emptied as if by magic, the pedestrians all seeking cover inside the bookshops. Bodie ambled across and into Foyle's doorway. Ray was over by the 'Pay Here' sign buying some trendy bestseller.

Bodie couldn't bear to look, feeling as if he was all one raw exposed nerve. He browsed through the shelves to give himself something to do and was debating the merits of "Labour Relations and The Corn Law--Lancashire's Industrial Heritage" when Ray landed at his side, punched his arm and waved a plastic bag.

"Got it, last copy in the shop," Ray was triumphant.

"Oh, joy," Bodie responded, deadpan. "I bet the butler did it," he said snidely and marvelled at how easy it was to sound really pissed off with someone you absolutely adored.

"No, it was Colonel Mustard. With a length of lead pipe. In the billiard room," Ray said solemnly and didn't even bother to look back as he led the way out into the rain and down the Soho back streets through Leicester Square and into 'The Hand and Raquet'.

Ray ordered briskly: "Two pints of lager, shepherds pie and chips, hotpot and chips and he's paying."

---

Leave due, Bodie exulted and Ray joined the chorus. Five days before they needed to be on duty again and Ray anticipated the fun--a day out at Newmarket? Over to Calais perhaps, maybe even Dublin for a few days?

He finished a report with "end of term" speed and slurped his last cup of office issue coffee for five days. Then he got his coat, his kitbag and his car keys and scampered after Bodie as he disappeared off down the stairs. They fetched up in the car park together and Ray paused expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?" Bodie asked, selecting his key and walking over to his car.

"Well, where are we going?" Doyle said, long suffering.

Bodie's face was puzzled, amused. "I don't know about you mate, but I'm off for five days leave. See you." He climbed into his car, gave a casual wave and drove off through the gates and turned right--not homewards, Doyle noted.

It took about a minute to sink in and when it did Doyle nearly had kittens. Arrogant bastard, he fumed inwardly at Bodie. It didn't take too much of a wrestle with his conscience to turn back to the Duty Office to find out just where his so called partner had gone. Bodie would have told them, it was standard practice.

Bamburgh, the Duty Office informed him austerely and when he went on to ask, 'yeah, but where's that?' had been unhelpful. Suit yourself, Ray retorted sulkily and stalked off home, via W H Smith where he perused a copy of the "RAC Road Atlas of the British Isles".

He wasn't much wiser even then. East coast it was, about as far as you could go really and still be in England. Nothing there except a village and a castle, right by the sea. He called the Northumbrian National Trust office and they promised to pop a brochure in the post to him that night.

Policemanly instincts satisfied, Ray managed to shrug off most of his ire and pondered which girl to phone. He decided on Janine, a stunningly pretty brunette from Reports Typing, with an IQ that Bodie had estimated to be in the low forties but with a chest to match.

It was after eight by the time he got to the restaurant, where he fed them both then spent a pleasurably exhausting few hours at Janine's flat. He slipped away in the early hours and got home with the milkman. He hated spending the whole night with his pick-ups, feeling stifled by their nearness, the hair and the perfume that filled the bed.

The one drawback with Ann, he recalled, had been her insistence that they spend the whole of the night together.

It was bliss to be able to have a leisurely breakfast; he actually got to read the papers for once. The promised brochure was there too and Ray, remembering his curiosity of yesterday, read it through.

Well, it seemed all right he supposed; the castle was dramatic enough stood over the sea like that, all 'fuck off you Viking scum' looking. Still, he'd have laid money that it wasn't really Bodie's scene at all. You never know though, he might have some people up there, or some woman. He could be a mysterious beggar sometimes, could old Bodie. Well no, that was unfair; not mysterious just private.

It was up to Bodie, if he wanted to mooch off on his own. He'd been in a strange mood for a while now, thinking about it. Nothing definite, nothing Ray could put his finger on, just a vague feeling of--discord. Almost unhappiness. He was distant, stand-offish. Not like his normal self at all. Ray had challenged him about it a couple of times--'who hit you with the awkward stick then?' but Bodie hadn't responded.

Ray paused between slices of toast, surprised at his own feelings of resentment and exclusion. Not that he missed Bodie or anything soft like that, 'course not. It was just easier when he was around, just more comfortable.

Well, sod him, Ray sulked--it would be great not to have to see that ugly mug for a few days, a break from all that reined power, that too vivid personality. A nice rest from it, yeah, time to unwind and let the adrenalin cool down.

By the end of the third day, it wasn't a break at all, it was a chore.

The trip to Newmarket had been a farce; he'd lost a bundle on the first race and never caught up. Ferry crossings were being cancelled right left and centre due to lightening strike action so Calais was out. He'd thought to improve himself and gone to see a Fellini film at the ICA but it was so dull he'd ended up falling asleep.

Another two days of this stretched ahead like a desert. Janine's company was out of the question; she was good in the sack but she had all the personality of a dining table and four chairs.

He tinkered with his bike but it needed a spare part that Bodie had promised a mate of his could get for him.

There was a third round cup tie on at Stamford Bridge but watching it on his own surrounded by 34,000 other people wasn't the same as watching it with Bodie then going for a pie and a pint to talk over the finer points.

Ray Doyle had completely wasted his time off, while Soldier Blue was in the wilds somewhere, probably eating Border Tart with some border tart right this very second. Ray could spit, he was so peeved.

The last day--he was on duty again at 0800 the following morning. He'd tidied the flat, done all the household stuff that needed doing (and some that didn't) he'd even put all his records back into their appropriate sleeves. Ten o'clock and he was bored out of his mind. It was pouring with rain; too foul a day for a walk or a drive out somewhere.

A city of six million people; and he felt almost desolate. The phone hadn't rung all morning. Ray analysed his mood and the only word he could come up with 'lonely'. Or 'abandoned'. Either one would do. He didn't like it at all.

What did other people do, he wandered despairingly, as he sat and listened to a phone-in on local radio. Went out he supposed, to see family or friends or.... Yes, all very well, he countered, but all the family I have are up in Derby anyway and as for friends, well there's only that bastard Bodie and he's buggered off without me....

He switched off the radio and sat, appalled. There's only Bodie.

---

"Have a nice time?" Ray asked casually. Bodie grinned too brightly and began a rambling monologue about his holiday. It was worse now than before, Ray realised, sinkingly. On the surface, it's all tickety-boo but underneath?

Cowley cleared his throat and the briefing began. There was no time to ask further questions but that didn't stop Ray's imagination.

Bodie was wind blown and slightly tanned: it made his eyes bluer than ever. Ray felt grey in comparison. Look at him--April in bloody Northumberland and Bodie came back like he'd spent six weeks in a health resort. It was unfair how handsome he looked.

On their way out to the car park, Ray tried again. "Stayed with friends you say?" Bodie was eating a KitKat and took a moment to reply.

"Eh? Oh, yeah, an old mucker from my flying dagger days. Got a pub in Northumberland now. Never neglect an old friend, Ray, you don't know when they'll come in handy." He flashed that grin again, his best light up your life grin. Only someone who knew him as well as Ray would notice the grin was forced.

In the car now, and Ray still didn't let it drop. "Good friend?"

"Yeah, suppose you'd say he was my best friend really. What a pisser, he was a riot," and Bodie chuckled at fond memories. "Him and me, we once..." and Ray let him chunner on, concentrating on his driving, listening politely and making appropriate noises; all the time fuming inwardly--bastard, bastard, bastard.

The anecdote came to an end. Ray recalled his thoughts and agreed, "Yeah, what a laugh."

"Ah, well, you had to be there," Bodie conceded at Ray's faint praise. "What did you get up to then?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Nothing much," Ray answered tightly and Bodie looked at him. If he didn't know better, he'd say Ray was upset about something. Ray said no more so Bodie, trying hard to be the same as usual, turned the talk to his own holiday again. It had been fun all round he stated--the beer was splendid and the tuck even better. "Paradise," Bodie sighed.

"I wouldn't know," Ray said, "I wasn't invited."

Bodie stared at him. "'Mondo, you'd have been paralysed with boredom in about two seconds flat. Army mates, telling army tales? No night life if'n you don't count badgers, no fast women?" His smile was almost genuine, confused, fond.

"Oh? As it was I spent five miserable days--on my own. Newmarket--on my own. Stamford Bridge--on my own. Fixing my bike--on my own." He changed gear unnecessarily at each sentence, pointing his words with extra venom.

Bodie looked at him, exasperated but still good humoured. "You could have phoned a friend, gone away, done loads of things. We can't live in each other's pockets chum," and his voice sounded almost desperate at the last words.

"I know that, prat. But at least you could've told me you were going off on your own. Not that I'm bothered, it was great not to have you around all the time--cluttering up the place and eating my food." Ray's voice was hard edged. "Glad to see the back of you really, prefer my own company to yours any day of the week."

Bodie's face tightened and any emotion was well hidden underneath his blandly expressionless look. "That's all right then," and Ray nodded, cuttingly off hand.

Bodie remained silent, helpless in the face of Ray's reaction, suddenly afraid of what Ray might provoke him into saying.

Ray glanced at him, then looked away quickly. He noticed far too much for such a casual glance, the lazy sprawl of Bodie's beautiful body, the easy hardness he wore like armour.

Something cold crept down from Ray's scalp, raising the skin on his arms before sinking like lead into the pit of his stomach. His only thought was one of weary surprise: I might have known it would feel like this.

"Are we going to get the silent treatment all the way to the stakeout?" Ray asked at last, unnerved at the heavy silence between them.

"I think we've said all we need to, don't you?" Bodie answered politely.

"Suit yourself then, moody tart." Ray snapped and lapsed into silence.

---

It had been a hell of a week. The benediction of Friday night came just in time for Ray--he felt terrible: tired, out of sorts, snappy, irrational. He knew why too; bloody Bodie. Too lovely for his own good, that boy.

Their previous casual intimacy was replaced by a stern, cold professionalism that made Ray ache sometimes to get back to how it was. The private--closeness they had shared had been an extra, vital, element of their working lives. Take that away and there wasn't much left. He missed Bodie so much it was almost a pain.

Stupid really, Ray saw him nearly every day--and he still missed him. Missed Bodie touching him, the casual hand on his shoulder, the gentle ruffle of his hair. It scared him, how much he missed those fond, absent, impersonal touches.

There was something out of tune between them now. Ray thought about this deeply, the best part of his way through the gin bottle. He toasted "absent friends" and congratulated himself on the profundity of that image--himself and Bodie as a piece of music. Nice that. He should have stuck at that old creative writing class.

Noises, at which he reached automatically for his gun, sobering instantly. It was Bodie, waving his pass key theatrically. Ray relaxed again at once.

"I did ring but there was no answer." Bodie strode over and switched off Aaron Copeland. "Not surprised with that bloody racket."

"What do you want?" Ray asked with the careful enunciation of the drunk.

"Things have been off with us since I came back from leave. Well, I'm cheesed off with this and I want it sorted," Bodie said simply, took off his jacket and sat down on the sofa beside him. Ray could smell Bodie's skin overlaid with aftershave and brandy.

"What things? Off how?" Ray stalled, and picked up his glass with a slightly unsteady hand. "We're colleagues, work mates that's all. The job's all right, what's your problem?"

"Don't play hard to get," Bodie scoffed, and Ray winced inwardly at the inappropriate remark. "Today, I didn't even get a 'Ta Ra then chum, see you on Monday'. What's the score? What've I done?" Ray shook his head. "Or not done?" Ray took a gulp of his gin and got up to fetch some more tonics, ice, anything, whatever, away from Bodie's nearness. But not to be baulked, Bodie followed and stood in the kitchen doorway.

"Me too," he ordered and Ray got down another tumbler and poured some brandy he kept under the sink for medicinal purposes. It was cheap, foul stuff but Ray knew Bodie's aversion to gin ran very deep indeed.

"Well," Bodie prompted, almost gently, and came into the kitchen and swung himself up to sit on the counter top by the draining board.

"I don't know what..." but Ray couldn't finish the sentence, the lie too blatant.

"Are you angry at me about something?" Bodie said, very seriously indeed. Ray's mouth shaped a 'no'. "So, it's nothing I've done, or not done and you're not angry with me?" Bodie said, just to get things clear.

Ray turned away and tried not to feel sick. Another swig of gin helped and suddenly he saw the funny side.

"You're a big-headed bastard aren't you? What makes you think it's got anything to do with you at all?" he taunted, turning to face Bodie at last.

"I know you," Bodie said simply and gave him look for look. The blue eyes were very shrewd and knowing and all together too blue for Ray's liking.

"It's not you," Ray said, defeated, "It's me."

"Want to tell me or shall I guess?"

Ray laughed mirthlessly. "You'll never guess, not in a million years. And if you do, you won't believe it."

"Try me."

"Oh, how about--"

"You wonder what it would be like to kiss me?"

Ray plain gaped at him. Bodie threw back his head and laughed, Ray's face a picture of thunderstruck astonishment. He quieted when he saw Ray's face change and held up a hand in entreaty. "Easy, easy. No offence meant." He smiled his apology.

"But how did you..." and Ray waffled off, too much gin and emotion reducing him to stuttering silence.

"How did I know?" and Bodie moved easily off the counter and stood by Ray's side, far closer than usual. "I've wondered the same about you. Natural really, when you think about it, we're together twenty five hours a day, eight days a week sometimes, closer than a brother and all that crap. 'Course I'm gonna wonder once in a while. Naughty thoughts about my--very--male partner? Am I normal? What does it mean?" Bodie sounded calm, amused, very very casual.

"Is that all it is?" and Ray's tone could have been one of relief or anguish, it was hard to tell.

"I hope not, but expect so." Bodie said, with that easy courage Ray so admired. "Don't get all het up about it anyway," and Bodie gave his special smile, the one that lingered in his eyes. "Don't let it--spoil it, eh?"

Ray gaped helplessly, paralysed by the charm of that look. Bodie touched his arm gently, acknowledgement and understanding all in one and went back into the living room, taking his brandy with him. Ray paused for a few moments, then followed him.

"So, what should we do?" he asked bluntly.

"How does 'give it a whirl' sound?" Bodie responded too glibly and Ray scowled at him, irritated by the attempt at humour.

"I'm doing my best not to rip your clothes off Ray, give me a chance. I'll be all right in a minute." Bodie was serious in response to the mood that now grew between them. "It's not easy saying things like this. Keep thinking how daft it all sounds," and unbelievably, Bodie blushed.

Ray could actually feel his heart melt at the sight his partner presented; steady on, he told himself, all he has to do is look pathetic and you roll over and play dead. But he couldn't stop himself reaching out and taking Bodie's hand, something he'd never done to another man, and it struck him how hard and strong the fingers were. Bodie seemed to stop breathing.

"Bodie," Ray said very seriously, and Bodie looked up and held his gaze, brave again in the face of what he knew now was a disaster. "Bodie, I'm sorry but a 'whirl' is out of the question."

Bodie nodded and pinned a brilliant, dead smile to his face and withdrew his hand. "However," Ray was seemingly talking to Bodie's tie now, "the rip your clothes off idea could be a winner," and he began to demonstrate purposefully.

Running on adrenalin, gin and lust, it was about the bravest thing Ray had ever done. He had just reached the point of wishing the earth would swallow him up, when Bodie began to respond, with superb enthusiasm.

Ray knew he was being clumsy; not used to handling a body so hard or strong, nor one so utterly fascinating to him, not used to wanting a body so much it was a physical ache. It made him awkward, almost scared.

Bodie seemed stunned and loosened his own clothes automatically, popping buttons and unbuckling his belt. Ray wriggled out of his jeans, pushing the hips down just far enough to allow access. Face buried in Bodie's shoulder, he locked his arms around Bodie's back hesitantly, his groin defenceless in Bodie's hands. Ray shivered with the shock of the touch.

Ray strained towards the other man, the depths of his sudden hunger taking him by surprise. With one hand he grasped the back of Bodie's neck and kept him still, then reached for Bodie's cock, delving through fly and underpants, grasping something at last, something that was hot and pulsed under his touch, something that grew.

"I'm touching your cock and you're touching mine," he whispered into the side of Bodie's neck, before licking a convenient earlobe experimentally. Bodie tasted of warm skin and softness, abruptly charming.

"Yeah," Bodie managed a gasp, one hand remaining firmly wrapped around Ray's erection, the other sliding up underneath Ray's T shirt to press and rub hard against his nipples.

Ray bit his lower lip in anguish, rubbing his own hand up and down Bodie's cock as Bodie's hands rubbed across his chest, matching the rhythm.

"I want to come like this," Bodie sighed, his voice sounding almost drugged with delight, "like this, all over your hand, holding me...ah, no, too tight sweetheart--there, just like that...stroke me, pump me," Bodie fell back away from Ray, spreading himself beneath the onslaught of encroaching orgasm.

Ray pressed forward, leaning all his weight into Bodie, wanting Bodie to come first, wanting to see it.

Balls drawn up tight and quivering, Bodie's cock swelled under Ray's touch, alive to his hand. Ray hissed his appreciation, feeling the heat and the softness that sheathed a core of iron need. God, Bodie was big. Lusciously, mouthwateringly, shamelessly big.

The red of his cock, thrust proudly from the black of his pubic hair was a rich contrast to his paleness. Ray watched the flush of passion pinken under Bodie's skin as the cock grew harder, beating in time to the pulse of Bodie's heart, the pull of Ray's hand.

"Ah, nearly there," Bodie sighed harshly, his voice hungry. "Ready, ready any minute now sweetheart, please don't stop, don't ever ever stop, please," and it was sweet to have Bodie so pleading, so pliant, sweet to hear that begging tone in Bodie's voice.

Ray grinned in simple delight, he had no intention of stopping, not until Bodie came and Ray was determined it would be the best, the hottest, the hardest climax of his life. He tightened his grip, ungentle, tender, imperative for Bodie's release.

"Ray," Bodie said it with wonder, with pain and relief and a lovely little catch in the back of his throat that was entrancing. His cock bucked, then spewed gushes of honey cum, splattering Ray, dribbling down his hands so the last few strokes were slippery and smooth, cream over silk over steel. Bodie's breath gusted out in a long splintering groan that faded to a low sigh of satisfaction.

Ray gazed in wonder at the thing he'd done; Bodie's face pale with the intensity of the pleasure, his eyes sultry lidded and smoky. He pressed his lips to the pout of Bodie's mouth, a gentle pressure, and tasted the slack sweetness of Bodie's tongue.

"Ahh, that was so nice," Bodie breathed, his head rolling back, every muscle relaxing until he lay, boneless beneath Ray's covering.

Ray felt hollow with desire, his own neglected erection pulsing mightily now, reminding him of his own need; Bodie's climax such a turn on for him. "Mmm, yeah, felt nice, looked nice too." Ray managed huskily, freeing Bodie's lips and drawing back a little way, exposing himself blatantly.

He touched his own body, his hands sticky from Bodie's sperm, slicking the length of his cock with spilled cum. He could feel Bodie's eyes following every movement, every voluptuous flex of his wrist. It was debauched, a shameless exhibition of self--Ray bold and open to Bodie's hot look, wanting to come for Bodie while Bodie lay there, sprawled and breathless from the same hands.

"God, you're a sexy little sod," Bodie growled, amused and aroused all over again. Ray just tilted his hips, forcing his cock further into his own grasp, sighing with the pleasure it brought him.

"Touch my nipples again Bodie, please, touch my nipples hard while I stroke myself," he said commandingly and Bodie moved at once to obey, peeling away Ray's T shirt roughly, hot hard hands coming to fondle Ray's chest until his nipples were erect and pleading. "Sweet," Ray breathed helplessly as Bodie lowered his head and licked first one nipple then the other with fierce and concentrated gentleness.

"Aw, yesss, suck them, suck them deep," he gasped, the feelings of hot, shivery pleasure wiring through him from nipples to cock and then back again.

Bodie's hand came to cup Ray's hands, to cradle round Ray's cock, erect and pulsing with frantic need now. At the sudden heavy warmth of that other touch, Ray choked, a hoarse little sound of aching pleasure.

"Nearly there?" Bodie asked slyly and with great charm and Ray nodded, eyes shut tight against the encroaching orgasm, lower lip caught firm between his teeth.

"Ah yes, nearly, nearly. Christ, what you do to me, that hand, just your hand touching my prick and I'm dying." Ray's voice was hard, passion roughened and brutal with wanting. "Keep doing that dahlin' just keep holding me like that," and his breath came in gulps as the stroking built within him, built and built until a long moment of excruciating joy, bursting into wet sticky sperm that pulsed hard, then softer, landing on Ray's bare chest, trickling over his erect nipples and cooling in an unbearable contrast against his sweat-matted hair.

Bodie moved slowly and with great purpose, to pounce and devour the cream. The last dribbles of cum were swallowed by Bodie's wide mouth as he took Ray's cock deep inside and sucked with gentle power, a terrifyingly tender homage that reduced Ray's bones to a jelly.

Heatbeats slowed, they lay together tangled on the uncomfortable sofa. Ray could feel Bodie's tongue still lapping at his cockhead, a tough/gentle stroke that warmed him through to the bone.

Drowsy and satisfied with the weight of Bodie beside him, Ray smiled, stretched and yawned, replete. He stroked Bodie's usually immaculate hair, sweaty and messy now.

Gradually, the gentle licking stopped and Ray's cock was released, to lie wet and limp upon his thigh. Ray groaned in mingled relief and loss. Bodie squirmed back up to stretch out on top of him, resting his full weight on Ray in casual ownership. A long, hot look was traded, sultry green and smoky blue.

"I care about you so much," Ray said the words out loud, fearlessly. It was no more than the truth. He tangled Bodie's hair again possessively.

"I'm glad you care," Bodie said, in a low and vibrating voice that seeming to reach through Ray's skin into his very guts.

-- THE END --

Originally published in Red Roses 1: Because Roses Have Thorns, Red Rose Press, 1994