Braking gently, Doyle drew his car to a careful halt outside Bodie's flat. The absence of his usual driving-seat verve was due more to consideration of Sunday morning peace than any lack of energy.

Spring had arrived. And he felt good with it. During the last week the cold winds had blown themselves out and left behind a balmy, promising feel to the air. And this morning was even better. The air still had a nip to it but a pale sun was slowly lifting away early morning mist, and seemed to offer a new and happy warmth for later.

The spring feel to the world had found its way into Doyle's blood that morning and as he left the car and crossed the pavement, his steps had a pleased bounce which carried him effortlessly up the short flight of stairs.

Somehow on a morning like this, Cowley's orders to ensure they were fit after the long hard winter were no trouble at all. Couple that with the long train journey they'd had yesterday and the thick heads it had left them both with and Doyle was more than ready to go for a tube- clearing run.

And he wasn't going without Bodie.

Deciding that it would be fruitless to wait politely at the flat's outer door while its occupant went through the reluctant rigours of getting out of bed to answer his buzzer (or even ignoring it altogether), Doyle fished for his keys. As he let himself in, he made a mental note to remember to lock them in the car when they began their run. He'd soon know about it if he left a bunch like that bouncing around in a hip pocket.

As he'd expected, Bodie's flat was in complete silence. Light glowing through closed curtains guided Doyle to the bedroom and he crept quietly in.

Well, you never knew with Bodie. If he was on his last legs he'd make sure he had soft warm body to see him on his way.

A gap in the bedroom curtains let in enough light to reveal one mound in the middle of the large bed.

Creeping closer, Doyle saw the very top of the dark head and nothing more. He lifted the edge of the duvet in wicked curiosity.

A fella's macho image went all to pot when he was asleep, Doyle thought, grinning. His rough, tough partner lay partly on his side, partly on his stomach, arms clasped comfortingly around his second pillow which he'd pulled part way down into bed with him.

Cool, intrusive air must have woven itself into Bodie's dreams, for he curled in on himself, hugging the pillow tighter, his bottom lifting the duvet into a little hump before he relaxed again.

Doyle stood back and waited, and sure enough, Bodie sighed and rolled onto his back, arms and legs going all over the place in sprawling comfort. His eyes opened as some other presence nudged at his sleepy senses.

The still and silent figure beside his bed made his skin creep for a second. He recognised Doyle with relief, wondered if he was still dreaming and worried whether he'd said or done anything embarrassing, all at once.

"Wha' " A huge yawn ambushed him. "Wha' the 'ell are you doin' 'here?"

"Come to fetch you for our run," Doyle told him sweetly and watched the dopey face crease into a disbelieving frown.

A drowsy hand ran back through dark hair, making it stick up straight in places.

"You're joking," Bodie told him flatly and peered with fuzzy concentration at his watch. "At six o'clock on a " He did a doubletake as the little chronometer spelt out the awful truth, " Sunday morning? You're cracked."

"Nope."

The disgustingly alert figure stood with recalcitrant hands on hips, obviously not intending to take no for an answer.

"Come on, Bodie. We need it and you'll enjoy it once you get out there. You know you always do."

A rude snort arose from beneath the quilt.

"Come on, mate, come with me," Doyle wheedled, sure of his persuasive powers.

"I'm tired from yesterday," Bodie said peevishly and not quite truthfully.

It earned him a look of patent disbelief. "All we did was ride on a train, jump up and down a bit, wave our arms at the ref and come home on the train again."

It was a bit summarised but it made Bodie grin, for he knew Doyle had enjoyed the football game as much as he and had shared equally with Bodie's excitement at his team's away win.

He lay there in lazy abandon, quietly enjoying his mate's presence, for all that it was going to mean enormous discomfort very soon now.

"Why can't we go later on?" He didn't pin much hope on his token resistance and knew he must be far gone when he realised that he really didn't mind Doyle dragging him out of bed on a Sunday morning. It felt good to know there was someone to whom he was special enough to be sought out for the pleasure of it instead of how he might be used. It helped soothe away the ache he'd had for so long now. Soothed it...and caused it.

"Because I feel like going now, an' it's a lovely morning out there."

"Oh, well, that's reason enough, of course," muttered Bodie sarkily and cuddled back down under his duvet.

"Ah, come on, mate," Doyle nagged, impatience overcoming amusement now. "My feet are getting tired from standing still for so long. I'll wait for you in the car, okay? Ten minutes."

Bodie groaned heavily, lay for a few more precious moments then heaved back the quilt, the chill morning air Doyle seemed to have brought in with him making it imperative he pick up speed towards the bathroom.

Eleven defiant minutes later he came heavily down his steps towards the car, blinking as a gleam of sun broke through the mist.

"Gawd, what cat dragged you in last night then?" Doyle grinned in distaste as Bodie got in beside him, taking in the dark-shadowed eyes, pale skin, and a little area of blue-black stubble on his partner's jaw, obviously missed by the dopey strokes of his razor.

"Leave it out and let me go back to sleep," Bodie pleaded and closed his eyes as the car pulled away from the curb.

After a few minutes of driving along quiet streets, complete silence at his side, Doyle glanced at his passenger. Bodie was never really grumpy in the mornings not like himself, he acknowledged ruefully but could on occasions be almost impossible to keep awake or to get moving once he was awake.

"Oi," he said and poked Bodie unkindly in the ribs, making him snort and wake up. "Don't you wanna know where we're going then?"

Bodie thought about it. "What difference will it make?" came the sleep-thickened enquiry, "I'm not gonna know even when we get there." A light snore reached Doyle's attentive ear.

"Wake up, Bodie," he all but yelled at him as he cornered less than smoothly. "You got sleeping sickness, or what?"

There was a mumbled answer as Bodie merely snuggled his shoulders back into the corner of his seat, wishing he'd crept instead into the comfy back seat where he could have put his head down.

Silence reigned until Doyle deliberately brought the care to a hard-braked, rocking stop, tipping Bodie forward and jerking him awake with startled abruptness.

"Bloody 'ell, you trying to kill us or something?" Bodie demanded crossly and stared around him.

But instead of narrow streets and dangerously parked cars, there was a large, open expanse of green all around them. Nothing but trees and grass.

"Richmond," Doyle explained succinctly and locked his valuables away in his glove compartment. "Come on. Out."

Blinking around outside, Bodie had to admit that it did look quite good. From a distance.

His body was still mentally back in bed and wasn't going to take kindly to the enforced exercise it was going to get in a minute.

"What are we doing here, then?" he thought to ask, only then wondering why they weren't doing the usual street and cemetery run.

Doyle stuck his hands in his pockets and breathed deeply of the fresh, tangy air. "Dunno, just felt like it." Eyes crinkling against the light, he gazed around all horizons. "Remember coming here as a kid. Couldn't believe there was this much green in the middle of London. As far as the eye can see. It felt like the countryside to a kid who knew nothing but East End streets."

Actually, it was an illusion. Although a centuries old, very large park, the clever planting of trees around the perimeter hid the far-off buildings and gave the pleasing impression that rough meadowland stretched for miles in every direction.

Bodie, thoughts full of a wiry, undernourished, belligerent little street hawk, smiled reflectively. If Doyle want it that much, then a Sunday morning run round Richmond Park was what he'd get.

He gave his partner a passing swipe. "Let's go," he said, taking Doyle by surprise, and jogged off.

Content to let Bodie set the pace for now, Doyle caught him up, pleased that his sleepy-headed partner had at least fallen in with his wishes.

They ran easily along the pathway, sometimes running on hard tarmac and sometimes alongside on springy turf when it wasn't too luxuriant to catch at their feet.

Needing all his breath and energy to sustain their pace, Bodie kept quiet, willing his foggy head to lift. But after fifteen minutes or so he'd got his wind and rhythm and pulled away from Doyle.

"Hey, where'd you get that from?" Doyle called and matched him easily again.

"Unplumbed depths in me, mate. No one knows they're there. It's how I keep ahead."

"Sure of that, are you? I might know."

"Not all of 'em you don't," Bodie told him darkly. "Like to keep a few surprises in hand, I do."

"Oh, I like surprises. An' I know more than you think," Doyle assured him and grinned at the sideways look he got.

"You'll 'ave to tell me sometime. Bloody 'ell, how far we goin'?" Bodie demanded, but with little real feeling. Just like Doyle, he could enjoy complaining. And his head was feeling better than it had for days.

"One circuit will do, I suppose," Doyle allowed. "It's only our first decent run, after all."

"Oh, miles of pounding the A-Z don't count then?" Though to be truthful, they'd done precious few runs that winter. The bitter winds, rain and snow had even made Cowley amenable to some easier sessions in the gym.

Doyle, used to this sort of argument from his basically lazy partner, ignored it with ease and absorbed instead all the sights and scents of burgeoning spring around him.

A new purpose was in the air, new vigour and strength. It made him feel good, sensual, if a little reckless.

His pace a light, barely heard padding over the tarmac, he let his eyes drift from a fresh growing horizon to his partner, to the left and slightly ahead of him. Unsurprisingly, it was an equally pleasing sight.

Bodie was wearing his brand new tracksuit, an attractive, expensive-looking outfit in fine grey brushed cotton, patched with pale blue at shoulders and trouser back pockets. The zippered jacket covered a pristine white T- shirt and the straight-legged stretch trousers narrowed into neat ankle bands above new striped trainers.

The casual ensemble gave Bodie an uncommon, comfortable- looking chic. Most unlike his tatty old ill-fitting, stretch nylon suit, Doyle conceded approvingly.

For once, Bodie hadn't put a deal of weight on during the more sedentary winter a few Macklin Specials had seen to that and Bodie's new suit revealed cleaner lines than usual, which encouraged Doyle to carry on watching his partner's rhythmically moving body. Those patch pockets were decidedly provocative, and he wondered if Bodie realised it. Apart from the occasional, unintentional lapse, Bodie was not one to choose clothes to highlight any part of his body.

An uneven row of white teeth appeared as appreciation grew. Supreme self-confidence glowed through Doyle. It was all going to be very easy. Why had it troubled him for so long? Today he was going to get his own way. He could feel it.

Soon, not content any longer with a rear view, Doyle pulled level and a little ahead of Bodie.

"You okay?" Bodie checked with him.

"Never better," confirmed Doyle and got a cheeky smile of acknowledgement.

His breathing long settled into an easy cadence, limbs moving automatically, Bodie was letting his thoughts drift wherever they pleased. And they pleased to dwell mostly on the man at his side.

There was definitely something very chirpy about Doyle this morning, as if he'd come up on the pools or won a pay rise and wasn't telling Bodie about it.

Content to bide his time for now, Bodie just enjoyed the reflected good feeling.

He caught Doyle's eyes on him more than once.

"What're you looking at?" he demanded at last and checked his front for forgotten coffee stains, or worse.

"You," confirmed Doyle economically, all mischievous eyes and slyly grinning mouth. "What are you wearing under that?"

"T-shirt, of course." It was obvious and Bodie was puzzled by the question. "And...the usual." He didn't like to be too open about his more intimate articles of clothing.

"Ah," nodded Doyle. "Couldn't see it."

Bodie's crooked smile appeared. "You gone kinky, or what? Shouldn't be looking," he admonished, then suspicion arose. "What are you up to?"

Doyle shrugged. "Just wondered," he replied lightly. "Last time I ran I was wearing a new one and I 'adn't done it up properly. Got meself a bit snagged. Ever since I've been tempted to leave it off. 'S better to be bouncing free than bouncing caught like that, believe me."

Bodie didn't believe him at all. "You just sent those deer into shock," he announced facetiously, and they watched a small herd of Fallows skitter away from them. "What a thing to talk about."

"It can be a pretty important thing if you get yourself caught somewhere awkward in public," Doyle chuckled at him.

Liking the sound, Bodie glanced again at the skinny form running beside him, at the wind whipping back abundant curls, baring ears and the long line of throat. Doyle wore a lingering grin and flicked sparkling eyes his way. As Bodie watched, he saw a droplet of sweat trickle from Doyle's temple. It left a fine, moist path in its wake. Bodie wanted to touch it, smooth the moisture away, feel it on his fingers

Eyes front, he told himself sternly. Forget it.

A provocative, sexy little urchin his partner might be at times, but he'd never given Bodie any reason to believe that his all too frequent come-ons were serious or even meant for him.

But spring grass and newly budding trees could become boring and after a while Bodie found his attention slipping helplessly sideways again.

He wondered idly why Doyle insisted on keeping that old towelling tracksuit so baggy it fitted where it touched. That line of thought led him to visualising what lay underneath, which led in turn to a one-time past but very vivid memory of what Doyle looked like wearing only a jockstrap. Pity he couldn't run like it.

As it was, Doyle was basking in the first clear rays of the sun as it finally broke through the mist for good. The zip of his jacket was fastened low so that the breeze could get at heated skin, and Bodie could imagine all the little creases and soft folds hot and damp with sweat.

He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed.

"'ey, where you goin'?" Doyle called after him suspiciously as Bodie veered off the path and over the grass, making for a large metal gate in a tall fence.

"Through the enclosure," Bodie said over his shoulder. "Wanna see the rabbits. There'll be loads about this time of morning."

"Not by the time you get there, there won't," said Doyle, deriding Bodie's heavier tread. "They'll feel you comin' miles away." He followed Bodie through the gate, into a more cultivated area of flowering bushes and shrubs.

"Not gonna be coming, am I?" muttered Bodie under his breath.

"What?"

"I said, there's some," Bodie pointed and there at the foot of a tree grazed half a dozen or so grey-brown rabbits, large and small. They scattered in all directions as the two men slowed and approached.

"There...and there," Bodie pointed again as more and more rabbits appeared from the shorter undergrowth. One youngster in a panic ran into a prickly bush and had to come out again and find somewhere else.

"Daft little bugger," Bodie smiled, face alight with pleasure.

Doyle found that simple delight much more pleasing to the eye than little fury things. It mirrored his own newly formed core of contentment.

So easy.

And he wasn't even in a hurry to get them both home.

Until Bodie rubbed a hand over the inside of one thigh and across his groin.

"Hot," Bodie frowned suddenly. "'M sweaty."

"Yeah... Let's go home. Shower," agreed Doyle with abrupt and thirsty longing. He hoped his sudden shiver hadn't been noticed.

But Bodie wasn't looking at him and they ran back to the car in near silence.

Both men slumped into the cushioned car seats in rich relief, glad it was over but feeling good all the same.

But today the air between them prickled with awareness, making things a little too uneasy to linger.

Bodie frowned heavily out of the window. He shouldn't blame Doyle for being such an inherently sexy little bastard, he didn't always know what he was doing.

But this morning that thought failed to connect. Didn't convince him for once. Bodie's mind's eye saw a knowing expression, a calculated sensuality...that worked just the same as any other kind, he admitted miserably. Doyle attracted just to see if he could, cast his lures just to test whether they still worked.

Bodie could have reassured him on every count.

Doyle didn't care and Bodie should have known better.

So whose fault was it that he hurt?

His own. Only ever his own.

On the drive back, Doyle felt a degree higher and brighter than when he'd got up that morning. But in contrast, Bodie seemed to have sunk lower after his initial good spirits, and was staring dejectedly out of the window.

Take you home and cheer you up with some breakfast, Doyle promised silently. If anything else happened...okay, let it. If not, well, he just wanted to see Bodie smiling again, and those blue eyes crinkle at him with the affection his partner always thought was hidden safely from sight.

Bodie looked up as the car slowed and stopped. "This is your place," he noted blankly.

"That's right. Thought you might like some breakfast," Doyle tempted. "Can't be sure of what's in your fridge and cupboards, can we?"

Bodie looked at him. "I'm all sweaty, Ray," he said seriously, needing time alone to shut things away again. "Need a wash, a fresh change of clothes."

"You can use my shower and sit in a bathrobe to have breakfast with me while your stuff's washed out. My tumblerdrier's working again now."

Doyle had it all cut and dried, obviously. Always could get his own way.

Bodie couldn't think of any more arguments, so he climbed out of his seat a little stiffly and followed the slim- hipped siren up to his flat.

Shutting and locking the door after Bodie, noting the rosily flushed skin and averted eyes, Doyle gave him a gentle shove towards the bathroom. "Go and have your shower while I get the coffee going," he urged. "There's a robe in the airing cupboard."

Long minutes later, hearing hissing water but no other movement or sound, Doyle peered into the bathroom and studied his glass partitioned shower unit.

A shadowy pink figure stood still and silent beneath the water, the bare outline subtly and opaquely blurred with steam and reeded glass.

Doyle stood still, undecided, and unable to take his eyes off the water-dappled form. It would be wiser to leave Bodie alone wiser all round. But a skin-prickling inevitability tugged at him: desire; a selfish desire to touch and more and a surprisingly unselfish wish to comfort his confused friend.

Never one for negative thought or action, Doyle quietly stripped off, and with scant regard for the water that jetted out and soaked his carpet, opened the shower door and stepped inside.

Bodie had his back to him, forehead resting against the opposite wall. There was just room for the two of them without touching.

"You haven't even started washing, have you?" Doyle murmured softly, but Bodie still jumped with shock and straightened fractionally.

"Gonna stiffen up if you don't stand under that water properly," Doyle continued gently, stubborn heart fluttering and constricting in reaction to Bodie's miserable diffidence.

It can be easy. No hurt. Let me show you...

The words floated in his head, finding an outlet in his deep longing to touch the broad back turned so determinedly on him. Its smooth lines glistened with drops of water so Doyle turned to his fragrant container of shower gel and squeezed a generous blob onto his palm. Spreading it between both hands, he touched the powerful shoulders and smoothed it down Bodie's back. It was like stroking silk over satin, following those muscled contours, into the faint hollow of the spine and out again across hips and the gentle swell of

"Don't."

Crushing fingers reached back to grip one of Doyle's wrists, interrupting the sensual flow of thoughts and hands.

Doyle looked at the averted head and stood very still under the denying, bonecrushing hold. He wished he could show Bodie how beautifully compelling this contact could be, once begun.

"What's the matter, Bodie?" he enquired softly. "Are you hurting somewhere?"

"No." Bodie took a breath and gathered himself visibly, forcing himself to speak nastily. "What are you doing in here in any case? I'm starting to wonder about you, mate." He waited, but Doyle didn't say anything. "Whose shower is this anyway?"

"Mine," came the soft, sure confirmation.

If Bodie hadn't wanted him there he would have been laughed at and bundled bodily out before he'd known what was happening.

"No, I meant... Oh, fuck it. Just leave me alone." Bodie released the slim wrist and leant his own hand against the glass, head bowed.

"No. I don't want to. And I don't think you want it, either. There's something the matter." Doyle gave in to his inchoate desire to touch again and tentatively clasped Bodie's shoulder. "You're chilled come on, stand under the water a little more...that's it..." With both hands he coaxed his tensely shivering partner into shifting sideways so the full force of hot showering water fell on him. And from there it was a simple move to gently rub his back again, harmless, soothing strokes over shoulders and spine. Bodie flinched but said nothing more.

"What's up, mate?" Doyle almost whispered, so close behind him.

Bodie shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered, "head's aching."

"Ah," soothed Doyle, new determination taking him. Nothing would ever happened if it was left to Bodie. "This should relax you then." And he ran both hands right down Bodie's flanks to his thighs, smiling shakily as he heard a bitten-back gasp. "Hang on, need more soap." He reached back to the container, letting himself graze against Bodie's tautened flank as he turned.

Bodie's eyes closed tightly as he tried to hold back his response. Every nerve-ending was jumping as he waited with passive resignation for the next touch of those long- fingered hands that could weave such magic.

This time they grew more adventurous and slid from Bodie's hips to his buttocks, exchanging purely functionary touches for a subtle giving and taking of pleasure, curving down and around his thighs in wet, slippery caresses. Then every bewildered thought exploded as a hot, moist body pressed itself to him, each individual sensation burning into his nervous system soft prickles against his back and buttocks, the press of thinly veiled bone at hip and knee, and a sweet, tender nudging right at the heart of him. Bodie's mouth opened in a silent cry of protest.

Unable to believe that Doyle was doing any more than playing with him, his own growing heat and hardness brought a curse hissing through clenched teeth and Bodie gripped the hands that were softly exploring his chest and belly, holding them away from him.

"That's enough," he growled out painfully. But he didn't know what to do next, and just stood there, Doyle's thin wrists quiescent in his grasp, not daring to let go, and not daring to turn.

Very conscious of the trembling running through the solid body, Doyle forced down his own anticipatory shivering, acceptance of what they'd needed and now wanted having come easily to him.

"Bodie...turn around..." The words emerged in a husky whisper.

His wrists were released as though they were burning, but Bodie didn't move.

With a patience he hadn't known he possessed, Doyle waited and at last his partner turned slowly, gingerly, in the cramped space.

Whatever Bodie had expected to see, it wasn't this. Instead of a gleeful, wholly mocking expression lighting the oddly shaped face, Doyle was serious, unsmiling; and his eyes, when they weren't half-hidden by heavy lids, were a huge, luminous green, sea-deep and full of a strange, bright knowledge that hadn't touched Bodie yet.

A silly question popped into Bodie's stunned, blank mind.

"Have we had a payrise I don't know about yet?"

Tension drained away like snow under spring sunshine now that the wary expectation of hurt had fled from the wide blue eyes. Doyle gave a little chuckle, simplicity flooding through him again.

"No...it's something more valuable than that," he purred. "Here, wash your hair."

Bewildered by another change of subject and having nothing else to do, Bodie took the small plastic bottle offered to him and upended it, lathering his hair and standing directly under the showerhead to rinse off. Just as he was rubbing the suds over his face, there came another soapy touch across his shoulders and arms.

Peering through dripping water, Bodie looked at his partner. Face serious and absorbed, Doyle was washing him with a gentle attention to detail, fingers slipping around his neck, rubbing softly behind his ears and down in wide, smooth sweeps across collarbones, pectorals and ribs. It tickled, scared, aroused and made him want to laugh, all at once.

Running out of soap, Doyle turned again to his container of gel and stood working a dollop between his palms. Bodie's eyes went from that to the intent face, just in time to catch a wicked green look from under dark lashes.

Knowing the touch was coming did nothing at all to prepare Bodie for it and he gasped and moaned as his tender, extended flesh was cradled and cupped in a warm, slippery palm.

Tautly erect and shivery from that lush sound, Doyle inched closer, supporting the swaying figure, until Bodie's strong thigh was pressed against his own hardness, assuaging the ache a little. He looked down, but couldn't see anything below Bodie's heaving chest as he sucked in gulps of moist air. The realisation that he was finally being allowed to hold Bodie like this almost overset him and he had to clamp down hard on his lower lip to try and hold himself back. But the heated throbbing under his hand soon drew his senses away from himself and back to his partner.

Bodie, almost accustomed in an odd way to the feel of that narrow palm holding him with such stillness, was forced to reach out and fumble for a hold on the shower bracket before his knees gave way.

Tender, interested fingertips were probing his stirring softness, while a soapy palm was rubbing him just where he most needed it. He was breathing hard, yearning now for something almost within reach. He wanted that pinnacle so badly...but not on his own. And he knew if he began thinking about the man clinging so intimately to his side, every sharp detail of who he was and what he was doing would send him up like a rocket.

Hard, painfully clenching fingers on his shoulder gave Doyle the help he needed to hold back. This was too special, too amazingly glorious to spill out in unappreciated seconds. He watched Bodie's face. It was in profile to him but all the more beautiful and arousing for it. And he listened to him, fiercely aroused by the panting and tiny breathless moans as Bodie was swept effortlessly higher. Long dark lashes opened and closed languorously, then fluttered, the cobalt blackness within gazing unseeingly up as Bodie tipped his head back in luxurious anguish.

Doyle wanted to see those eyes look at him like that. He ceased all movement, even his own gentle pushings against Bodie's thigh.

"Bodie..."

Breathing harsh and ragged, Bodie turned his head at that breath of sound.

Huge, velvety pupils gazed helplessly into Doyle's, focusing with difficulty, mouth parted for his jerky breathing as Bodie recognised with the eyes of a lover what that familiar face was telling him.

Doyle gazed his fill, disbelieving yet sky-high with an amazed arousal that threatened to shoot the heart right out of him.

Seeking still more of his mate's pleasure and his own eyes, Doyle's left hand, till then quiet and forgotten in the small of Bodie's back, slid downwards.

He felt the results of his softly grazing fingertip immediately, as Bodie gasped, contracted and jerked forward, thudding against his palm a split second before spilling hotly over his skin.

The feel of that and the erotic, pleasured culmination on the transfigured face, pulled Doyle closer to the edge. Fueled higher and desperate for it now, his pushed himself jerkily against hard-trembling flesh and came with a fierce exaltation, almost sobbing with the strength and power of his climax.

Trembling and ridiculously weak from his coming, Bodie's senses spread outwards again, and he wished he was lying down so he could savour this bone-meltingly tender aftermath properly with his mate close held in his arms.

Doyle was sagging alarmingly against him and Bodie turned guiltily, aware that as high as Doyle had taken him, he'd selfishly had no thought or will to pleasure Ray in return.

He peeled the limp figure away from his flank and thigh and looked down, heart giving a little thump as he realised that Doyle hadn't needed his active participation for his own pleasure. Bodie pulled him in close again.

The damp curly head dropped heavily onto his shoulder as Bodie manoeuvred them both under the water again, sluicing the precious stickiness away.

He had difficulty rinsing off Doyle's slim form as it clung now with steadfast and heavy tenacity to his front. His gently persistent words and touch earned him sleepy pleasured sounds until he gave up and switched the water off.

Bodie wrapped his love in a large, soft towel and coaxed him out and through to the bedroom, pausing to pull the curtains closed against bright sunshine.

The resultant soft-glowing gloom made it easy for Bodie to tumble his still limp partner back on the bed and follow him down.

Doyle lay where he was put, body on the bed, feet on the floor, heavy and lax enough to sink right through his mattress.

Easing him properly onto the bed, Bodie looked down into the sated face, delight filling him as he finally trusted his eyes to tell him just how completely the experience had knocked Ray out. He scanned the relaxed features then slid openly for the first time down the long-desired body, content just to look.

Still-damp whorls of chest hair curled finely out to each nipple, down to the softly twitching belly and tender swelling of genitals below, contentedly lax now. Another throb of pleasure rippled through Bodie as he remembered them hard and erect, pushing forcefully against his hip.

Doyle began to show signs of coming back to life and under Bodie's hungry gaze, gave a languid stretch and arched his spine off the bed, wriggling pleasurably.

Bodie's eyes rose again to the always compelling face and as the lids still drooped closed, he looked at the softly smiling mouth, loving its fullness. It tempted his own and he bent towards it.

Doyle stirred in welcome under this new touch and as Bodie showed no signs of pulling back, opened tentatively to him, unsure how far Bodie wanted to commit himself.

Expecting an abrupt renewal of passion and an ungentle force, Doyle dissolved for the second time under the tenderly commanding exploration, feeling weak all over again as Bodie's hands cupped his face and jaw, fingers threading into his curls to curve softly around his skull. Bodie held his mouth for long moments then drew slowly away to press small and lingering caresses on his swollen lips.

Used to witnessing Bodie's playful exuberance with his girls in the past, Doyle was totally unprepared for this slow and sensual learning and opened his eyes in languorous surprise.

He looked straight up, into a blue unknowingly deep and dark with gentleness, and held it for a long time.

"Did you..." he began at last, frowning and obviously thinking very deeply, "...mention something about a payrise a while ago?"

Bodie continued to stare down at him, affection draining slowly from his eyes to leave them expressionless. Was this all Doyle could think about--this semi-joke of Bodie's, thought up because he couldn't bring himself to believe the intensity of happiness and wonder he thought he'd seen in the green eyes? Had he misread him after all--and could Doyle really be distracted so easily from all that had happened?

Under Bodie's puzzled glare, a tiny muscle at the side of Doyle's mouth twitched and was held still, then twitched again--upwards.

Bodie looked closer. The deliberately wide and disguising eyes seemed suddenly to brim with mischief and desperately held-back laughter.

Bodie's own mouth tugged upwards, refused to be controlled, and a moment later a chuckle escaped, to be followed by another, until he was giggling helplessly and had to roll away onto his back because his elbows wouldn't support him any longer.

All of his goals achieved at last--or nearly all--Doyle leant up and grinned unrepentantly down into his partner's laughter-filled face.

"You daft sod," he was told with rough affection.

"Worked though, didn't it?" Doyle demanded softly. "You were getting too serious mate. 'S not a time to be too serious."

"Oh? Big barrel of laughs, is it?"

Doyle flicked a wickedly dismissive glance along the length of the strong body at peace now beneath him. "Sometimes, yeah," he drawled, and then immediately belied his words with a caress across the smooth-skinned chest. A forefinger circled a nipple that was endearingly devoid of any hair whatsoever, spiralling in until it grazed over the sensitive flesh, making Bodie's skin quiver in reaction. The other nipple was similarly explored and then the flattened palm skimmed Bodie's ribcage, down to his waist, as if Doyle couldn't get enough of the velvety sensation. Running one finger in a straight line up from Bodie's navel, he discovered a tiny arrowing line of fine, downy hair and paused in tactile enjoyment.

All the while, Bodie lay unnaturally still beneath the featherlight caresses, intent on his lover's face and on the eyes which followed each movement of the long fingers. A strange, sweet-shy ache descended on him. There was a warmth flowering inside Bodie, a sense of belonging, rightness, trust and a deep affection for his man who was touching him with such absorbed pleasure. That warmth was slowly welling up inside him, needing to be expressed, to become part of this tender, learning mood between them. He knew what the wanted to say, but wasn't sure whether he could. He'd only said it once in his life before and hadn't been taken seriously, but the remembered emotions of that time were almost childish compared to this feeling that flooded him.

"Ray..." he began, and then stopped as the curly head bent examining his navel turned immediately, clear, bright eyes finding and latching onto his.

At the continuing silence, Doyle straightened to lie propped on an elbow beside him again, his gaze direct and enquiring but softened by the light behind his eyes and the tiny sensual movement of his mouth.

Bodie tried again.

"Ray... I..." But he couldn't get any further. With Doyle looking straight down into his eyes like that, he just couldn't say it.

Doyle's eyes crinkled a little as he watched. "Do you, Bodie?" He asked gently, content to take the risk.

"Do I what?" Bodie looked puzzled, wary, wondering just what Doyle had thought he'd been going to say.

"What you've just said to me," Doyle confirmed, gazing into clear though perplexed blue, a rising colour beneath. "With your eyes, dummy," he explained with gentle condescension. "Took you long enough to catch on though, didn't it?"

Muttering something about 'natural talent', Bodie fiddled with the corner of the towel that was still lying beneath them, faintly annoyed at having the initiative taken from him. The silence lengthened.

"Well, do you?" Doyle persisted, not giving up now.

Narrowed eyes pinned him in place. "You little bastard," Bodie whispered helplessly. "Yes, god help me, I do."

"Oh, he won't help you. Not where I'm concerned." Full mouth making that all-knowing, all-sensual little movement again, Doyle veiled his eyes from Bodie's stare, and shifted slightly.

Whether it was to get up and leave the bed or not, Bodie didn't know but he wasn't about to allow it. He grabbed for Doyle's shoulders and hung on, making him lie still. "You are not," he emphasised grimly, "leaving it--me--like that. Come on--out with it."

Sheer happiness making him delight in teasing his still so- serious partner, Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Out with what?"

Exasperated, not knowing whether he was on his head or his heels, Bodie shook him. "Tell me-- Do you love me, dammit."

Reading the very real bewilderment underlying the annoyance, Doyle suddenly felt ashamed of himself. His head dropped and buried itself in the pillow. "Sorry, Bodie," he mumbled. "You mix me up so fuckin' much 'm havin' a job believing it all--" He stopped as a gentle hand found the nape of his neck and began rubbing it reassuringly. The muscles tensed again as Doyle lifted his head and stared at Bodie.

"I meant--wanted--all this to happen," he gestured at their naked bodies. "I just hadn't thought it'd mean...so bloody much." His head dropped again but this time against Bodie's upper arm, keeping the contact alive. "You can hit me if you like--might beat some sense into me."

Bodie could hardly believe what he was hearing and the resigned, self-anger made his mouth curve. "No... I've got other plans for you," he drawled easily. "But for now I want you to say it."

"Haven't I--? I thought I..." Feeling foolish, Doyle stopped himself, swallowed and looked determinedly into the blue eyes. "I do love you, Bodie," he said softly, meaning every word, as he'd meant every other that he'd kept hidden secretly, safely inside, even from himself. Maybe they'd be safer said aloud, too...sometime soon.

Bodie lifted a hand and brushed the hair back from rosy warm skin. "That's good," he breathed. "Makes things kind of equal." And wanting to seal that avowal, he drew Doyle down to him, lifting to the still parted mouth.

Bemused at the shifting moods between them, and the revelation of his own depth of feeling, Doyle allowed Bodie to take his mouth, feeling a moist tongue explore his bottom lip, asking tentative permission before reaching gently inside. He couldn't hold back a moan of strangely submissive pleasure, couldn't fight it and again as Bodie's mouth pulled away to fasten on his vulnerable throat. He should have known Bodie would be his equal in this as in everything else. Gently but inexorably he was being shown that he wouldn't be allowed to hide anything or to dominate the relationship overmuch, or to use his partner in any way, unless Bodie himself desired it. And it was a lesson he was absorbing with sensuous joy.

Feeling his arousal growing again, he pressed it against Bodie and was rewarded by a sharp nip within the kiss being pressed on his neck. The momentary sting of pain sent the blood surging downwards, bringing him shudderingly erect in seconds, startling him with his erotic reaction.

His gasping mind acknowledged that they would love together as hard and furiously as they lived. There'd be times for gentleness, but a time for ruthlessness too, when it was needed.

Eager to take his own part in this, he pulled out of the embrace and gazed downwards, eyes fastening hungrily on the dark thatch of hair and all it protected. Casual curiosity having made the size and shape of Bodie's maleness at rest not unknown to him in the past, this time was marvelously different. This time it was his, responding uniquely to him, to take or ignore as he pleased. And again, he had to touch

"Oh, no," Bodie warned him huskily and stopped the fascinated hand from straying further. He pushed up, holding Doyle off and rolling him onto his back again, arms trapped at his side. "Is this or is this not an equal partnership?" he demanded.

"'Course," said Doyle in throaty soft recognition, and flaunted his body with another alluring wriggle. "Only...some of us are naturally more equal than others."

Bodie grinned lustily at him and then eyed the impressive arch of flesh curving over Doyle's flat belly. "Yeah, well, you always did enjoy cheating."

"Cheating?" Doyle couldn't see how Bodie had worked that one out and peered fuzzily down at the area in question.

Hazy green eyes met heavy blue. "Well, if you think you're not up to the challenge..." Doyle's breath caught in his throat as Bodie slid down his body, settling himself disturbingly below one of Doyle's spread knees, his soft- hard warmth hugging an annoyingly untactile area.

"You didn't believe me, did you?" Bodie murmured.

Doyle felt another pulse shiver through his body as hot breath blew over him, and the bit on his neck throbbed with heat of its own. He was fast losing grip on this conversation. "Believe...what?"

"'Bout the surprises I keep in store."

"Takes...a lot...to...convince me...!"

It was the last coherent sound in the room for some time.

-- THE END --