On a Lazy Summer Afternoon...

by


Doyle turned his head and squinted into the bright sunlight, one hand shielding his eyes, a smile settling on his face as he took in the sight of Bodie jogging across the lawn in his direction. He carried on watching, enjoying the fluid grace of Bodie's smooth, economical running style.

Bodie looked good too. He was wearing a navy blue tracksuit and it suited him, complimenting the rich blue of his eyes and the dark cap of hair. And even at several yards distance Doyle could see and appreciate the healthy flush of exertion and the fine sheen of sweat on the normally pale face.

As Bodie came closer he saw that the moistness was there on the smooth skin of his throat and chest too. It showed through the open tracksuit top, gleaming wetly in the sun.

Bodie came to a ragged halt, smiled cheekily at him, gave him an inviting wink.

"How're you doin', Goldilocks?" he panted.

"OK," Doyle answered, squinting up at him, "sunbathin'..." settling his head on the back of the chair.

"Got too many clothes on for that," taking in Doyle's V necked green T shirt and jeans.

"Oh, I dunno," Doyle said, looking down at his arms, which were tanning nicely to a light honey gold colour, "seem to be managin' all right. Not like some people who go red and then white again."

Bodie shrugged, too hot and tired to dispute the point. Still panting exaggeratedly, in what Doyle took to be an obvious and misguided bid for sympathy and attention, he rested one hand of the back of the deckchair next to Doyle's and ran his other hand in an unconsciously sensual way over his forehead, then across his neck and throat, wiping away some of the sweat. Doyle's heart skipped a beat. Bodie never attempted to be overtly sensual, never consciously using his body to that end, but when he did things like that, in that no nonsense, very masculine way of his, it always turned Doyle on like crazy.

"How far d' you run?" he asked, without lifting his head.

"Not far... 'bout 5 miles," Bodie said, still gasping for air, eyes scanning the horizon, "twice round the grounds an' down to the farm and back. But that's it..." flopping down heavily into his own deckchair, "knackered. No more for me today."

"Dunno why you went careerin' off like that in the first place," Doyle said drowsily, "we've already done 'bout three miles today. Showin' off, that's what you were doin'."

He noticed that damp tendrils of fine, dark hair were clinging to Bodie's forehead in tight curls, framing his face in a decidedly cherubic way, and succeeded in subduing his amusement. It wasn't something Bodie'd care to have mentioned, not without some retaliation anyway, and it was too hot for any mock fights this afternoon.

"Yeah, well, I've gotta do somthin' with myself," Bodie complained with a long-lashed, meaningful glance at Doyle, "not gettin' any other kind of exercise, am I? Gotta burn off all the surplus energy somehow."

Doyle knew perfectly well what he was on about. It was a bone of contention with him too, but there wasn't much either of them could do about it.

His gaze swept over the wide expanse of rolling lawn in front of them and the gleaming white stone walls of the house beyond. "Yeah, I know," he said wistfully, "missin' you too mate, but we 'ad to show willin', didn't we? Couldn't very well refuse. Cowley didn't need to ask us. Could've picked another team."

"Don't make excuses for 'im," Bodie protested. "Christ, Ray, all we've had in the five days we've been 'ere is a quick grope in the bushes, half an hour in the wood the other night, which we didn't enjoy 'cos we were sure someone was bound to see us, and a five minute tete a tete in your room yesterday afternoon." He poured himself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the table in front of them and downed it in one long, thirsty, irritable gulp.

Doyle knew he wasn't entirely joking either. There was an unmistakable note of genuine frustration in the outraged complaint.

The manor where they were staying belonged to a retired general of Cowley's army acquaintance. They'd been working at full stretch for months, so this was to be a kind of "sabbatical... a break from routine..." or so Cowley had promised. The general needed close protection for a couple of weeks prior to a military arms conference to be held in London, and they were assigned to look after him here. That was it. No more, no less. Compared to their usual kind of work it was an easy assignment, and they were sharing shifts with Mason and Jones too, and so had plenty of free time on their hands as well. In fact more free time than they knew what to do with because the job itself was so easy. The house and grounds had already been well secured before they arrived, and there was virtually nothing for them to do, except keep an eye on the general when it was their turn to do so.

But idyllic as their surroundings were, their stay was proving to have its fair share of problems. The household ran to a strict time schedule for a start, Cowley explaining acidly that they'd be expected to comply with it too whether on or off duty. And for security reasons there wasn't any available transport either, for the rare occasions when their presence wasn't required, so they weren't even able to get away for a few hours.

It was virtually impossible to get together in the house because there were simply too many people around, and, large as the grounds and land, with its outlying farms were, that was no good either because they kept coming across assorted gardeners, gamekeepers, workmen and tenants.

The only place where they'd found a modicum of privacy was the dense wood which led down to the lake from the gardens, and even that was risky too, because there was always the chance poachers or gamekeepers would see them.

None of it would've mattered of course if they'd been sharing a bedroom, or at least had rooms on the same floor where they had easy access to each other, but they didn't even have that, and it was driving them crazy with frustration... hence the jogging sessions and the hectic programme of physical exertion they threw themselves into at every opportunity.

Doyle sighed with renewed frustration and looked and looked over at his partner. Bodie, obviously exhausted after his second, solo run, was lying back in his deckchair, stretched out languidly in the heat, hands in his lap, legs splayed, head back, eyes closed, a typically benevolent, Bodie-like grin on his face as he soaked up the sun.

The sun was already starting to leave its mark on the fair skin, in the form of a pinky red triangle across Bodie's forehead and on the tip of his nose, and at his throat and chest, where the tracksuit was open. He'd have to watch that. Bodie didn't have the kind of skin that took kindly to too much sun, and it was very hot today.

The dark, dampened hair had dried into fine, short, fluffy curls on Bodie's forehead by this time, which was what it always did on the rare occasions it was left to its own devices. Doyle smiled at the sight, then closed his own eyes and settled his head back, listening to the faint sounds of conversations drifting across the lawn from the house, and the light rustle of the breeze in the trees behind that, which led to the wood.

He sighed, drinking in the heady scent of the freshly cut lawns. It was good to sit in companionable silence with Bodie by his side... to relax and dream a little on a lazy summer afternoon...

Trouble was, after a few minutes, he wasn't sure he was happy about the direction his drowsy thoughts were taking him. Not in their present circumstances anyway, because he found himself remembering times he and Bodie had made love... in graphic detail, and with such erotic sensuality, he started shifting restlessly in his seat, changing position every few seconds, as the sweet pulsing began between his legs and he felt himself start to swell uncomfortably.

His mind was full of the first time... so many months ago. The night they'd had just enough to drink to loosen the inhibitions, without making them incapable. The night they'd both been unlucky, or lucky enough, depending which way you looked at it, to have been with girls who didn't come across, so that by the time they got back to his flat for a nightcap they were high as kites, strung out with sexual tension, having wrongly assumed they'd both be ending the night with a warm, female body beside them in bed.

They'd both been frustrated... wanting it... in the right kind of mood. So it had taken no more than the usual mock wrestling match on the couch, instigated by Doyle after Bodie had made a typically disdainful remark about Doyle's sexual prowess, to turn the mock punches into caresses, and the grunts of exertion and playful laughter into sighs of pleasure... as Doyle found Bodie's soft, wide mouth, and kissed it repeatedly... and very thoroughly.

They'd slid down onto the floor together without a word being spoken, knowing what they wanted and what they'd needed from each other for far too long, both suddenly realising why their interest in girls had waned recently, and why neither of them put too much effort into courtship any longer if the girls didn't come across straightaway... as on that particular night...

He remembered he'd more or less taken the lead that first time. Bodie had been unaccountably shy and hesitant with him, as if he'd been half afraid Doyle didn't really want it.

Doyle could still remember the pleasure of stroking Bodie's hard, swelling crotch through his trousers for the first time. The thrill of touching him there, of feeling him beneath his hand...

Bodie's gasps of pleasure when he'd touched him, and the trusting, loving look on the normally sardonic, carefully veiled face... so vulnerable and giving all at once.

He'd unzipped Bodie's trousers and worked his hand inside, still not sure Bodie wanted to go that far, finding the hard, hot shaft. Oh, the glorious feel of it that first time... the joy of stroking him, of discovering a Bodie he'd never even guessed existed up to that period in their often stormy, competitive relationship.

As he'd carried on stroking him, his other hand had explored the soft, tender sacs below the hard cock, and the thick bush of curling hair... fingers sinking into it, combing through it.

He remembered his wonderment at the hard, crimson moistness of the head of Bodie's cock, his fascination when it had deepened in colour, like his own, as Bodie got more and more excited... the sheer beauty of it as it bobbed and swayed close to Bodie's stomach...

Doyle'd held it steady with his hand wrapped firmly round it so he could bend his head and lick the potent, salty juice that dripped from the tip, long before Bodie came.

Bodie's hips had bucked strong and hard into his mouth when he'd done that, and a husky, desire-thickened voice, filled with an unsuspected richness, so different from Bodie's usual cool intonation, had whispered his name, pleaded with him not to stop, begging him to suck him...

The sweet scent of Bodie's arousal had overwhelmed him, and he'd wanted to drown in it. He remembered the incredible soft, slick, heated feel of Bodie's belly too, when he'd rubbed his cheek against it, resting it there as he did what Bodie had asked of him and sucked at the hard cock.

And the taste of him... God, the taste of him. The salty sweetness that was Bodie... his Bodie... spurting endlessly down his throat. So much he could hardly swallow it all... the sheer force of the spurting explosion... the power behind the thrusting cock as he'd drunk it all, begging for more. God, remembering the sensations of that first, wonderful time...

He caught his breath shakily and opened his eyes. He turned on his side in the deckchair, away from Bodie, clamping his legs together, and tried to breathe slowly and normally, but it didn't help. He was so hard it was embarrassing, his arms and legs weak with desire, the fluttery, burning sensation he recognised all to well, in the pit of his stomach

He knew he'd have to do something about it, and quickly too...

That thought didn't do much to calm him down either. The idea of it happening while Bodie was sitting there beside him turned him on even more.

He sat there for a while, tensely, willing the unruly erection away, but when he could resist the temptation no longer, he slid one hand down to his groin, drawing a shaky, pleasure-filled breath as he did what he'd wanted to do so much, and his fingers curled round the hot, troublesome erection.

He looked up, glanced quickly across the wide expanse of lawn. There was no one in sight, but it was still impossible... ridiculous. He couldn't jerk off here in the open, and run the risk of being seen.

But he didn't want to move. Didn't want to go inside and do it in the relative privacy of his room. He wanted to do it here, like this, in the sunshine, with the object of his fantasy beside him...

He spread his legs a little so he could reach himself more easily, his hand automatically stroking and pressing against himself through his jeans, even as he was still half-heartedly trying to regain control.

He glanced across at Bodie, who, thankfully, seemed to have fallen asleep. His head had slipped to one side anyway, wide, pouting lips slightly parted.

Doyle's gaze drifted irresistibly downwards to the casually spread legs and the soft swell of Bodie's crotch, which showed through the thin, loose toweling of the tracksuit. His eyes moved further down, took in the power of the thick, bunched thigh muscles resting back heavily on the wood of the chair.

One square-tipped hand lay on its side on the top of Bodie's thigh, relaxed and open, capable fingers curled slightly inwards. Bodie had pushed the tracksuit sleeves up his arms and the sun was glinting on the fine down on his forearms. The skin was so smooth there, just turning slightly pink from the sun, the light fair down so fine...

As Doyle watched, mesmerised, Bodie shifted and sighed in his sleep, slumping further down into the deckchair. He turned his head to the side, facing Doyle, and the hand which had been lying on his thigh slipped down between his outstretched legs, forearms resting over his groin. He sighed again. The part of his arm just above the wrist which was resting on his crotch rubbed over the soft bulge once or twice in an unconsciously sensual, up and down movement. He gave a deeper sigh of obvious pleasure, and then seemed to settle down into sleep again.

Doyle let out the breath he'd been holding, almost delirious with arousal, knowing he was going to see this through to the bitter end, no matter what the risk.

His hand was clutching his groin, the pressure unbearable. He had another swift look round to check he was still unobserved, and shifted position, turning, and hooking his legs over the other side of the deckchair, sitting in Bodie's direction this time, wanting to look at him as he did this.

He spread his legs just enough, so he could comfortably get his hand between them and loosened the belt to his jeans and pulled the zip down, catching his breath as the pressure on his aching cock was relieved a little.

He pressed back against the canvas of the chair so he could arch his back and found his cock at last, hard and aching and needing...

He sighed and rubbed his thumb over the wet tip, smeared the moisture down the length of the shaft, then rubbed the flat of his hand up and down it, pushing and squeezing it against his belly... once... twice...

That was all he needed. He came... copiously, soaking his briefs and his hand, the hot cream spurting, spasming in pleasure...

He lay for a couple of minutes, incapable of doing anything, sprawled indecently with his legs apart and his jeans still open, but as soon as he'd recovered enough he moved leaden fingers to his jeans and zipped them up again.

He could smell the scent of his own sex all around him, and flushed at the thought of what he'd done... was on the point of getting up and escaping to the house for a quick shower, when Bodie opened long-lashed, drowsy eyes and looked across at him, stretching.

He smiled lazily. "Been asleep..." he mumbled, "nice... sleepin' in the sun on a day like this..."

Doyle felt unaccountably embarrassed, which he knew he shouldn't have been with Bodie, even in these circumstances.

Bodie, for his part, felt the breath catch in his throat as he took in Doyle's appearance. He looked... fantastic... and very different from how he'd looked before Bodie had fallen asleep...

In fact, if Bodie hadn't known it was impossible, he'd have said Doyle'd been fucked senseless between then and now. All he knew was that Doyle had the look he always had after sex... wild and disheveled, skin glowing, darkened green eyes shining wantonly, elegant, lean limbs sprawled in total abandonment.

He often called Doyle his wild gypsy after loving, and he would've sworn that was how Doyle looked right now... Puzzled, he decided a few enquiries were in order.

"You all right?" he asked very softly, "look all hot and flushed. Bloody gorgeous.. what've you been up to while I've been asleep, eh?"

Doyle turned to him with a shamefaced grin and a deepening flush, eyes still heavy lidded with slowly fading arousal. "Tell you if you like," he said huskily, "come for a walk with me?"

This was an invitation Bodie'd never turn down, and the hint of promise in Doyle's soft voice was unmistakable. "The wood?"

"Where else?"

It had been raining earlier in the day and the ground was spongy and damp underfoot, leaving a sheen of moisture on their trainers. Within seconds the sweet scent of the rich earth and the shaded greenery of the wood was all around them. It was as if they'd left the rest of the world behind.

Once they were in the wood proper, and out of sight, Bodie's arm automatically slid round Doyle's shoulder as they walked, drawing him closer. Doyle slipped his arm round Bodie's waist, matching his steps to Bodie's the small gesture meaning so much to them simply because it was so impossible in public.

They'd only walked a little way when Doyle stopped, resting back against a thick, knarled tree trunk, pulling Bodie against him, hugging him.

"Oh, that's so good," he sighed, "been wantin' to hold you so much."

Bodie eyed the ground. "Too wet to lie down."

He pressed Doyle more firmly against the tree instead, nuzzling at his neck, dark, silky head brushing his cheek, rubbing against him. Bodie's heart was pounding, and he was strangely excited, sensing that whatever happened between them here was going to be special somehow. There was something about Doyle's present mood which excited him very much.

As he pressed closer, Doyle's tangy scent reached... strongly... It was intoxicating, a heavy musk, enveloping him.

He took a deep sniff and lifted his head. "God, Ray, what've you been up to?" he asked, fascinated, with a little amused smile, "smell like a tomcat the mornin' after... incredible..."

He drew back to look at him, the smile slowly changing to a knowing grin. "Been havin' some sweet thoughts then, have you?" he asked indulgently, brushing damp auburn curls back from Doyle's forehead.

"Yeah, and about you too," Doyle admitted.

"Oh yeah? What were they then?" Bodie asked conspiratorially, nuzzling at Doyle's neck again, "wanna tell me?"

Doyle chuckled, knowing how much Bodie loved to hear his sexual fantasies.

"Sod the dampness then," he said impulsively, pulling Bodie down with him, "and the bloody gamekeeper too. If he sees us, he sees us. Lie down with me... don't like it standin' up..."

"No, you don't, do?" Bodie observed, remembering, as he stretched out on top of him, sighing, mouth covering his. He stroked warm fingertips over Doyle's cheek and throat as he carried on kissing him.

Doyle lay back, enjoying it, only digging his heels into the ground to raise his hips so he could take Bodie's weight on top of him and circle the lower half of his body against him.

They were in complete shade, except for the dappled sunlight which filtered through the trees, but even so, it was warm and humid. With the damp, sweet-smelling earth underneath them, and the trees above, shielding them, it was like being shrouded in their own warm, dark cocoon...

"Roll on your side," Doyle said after a while, "too heavy... wanna lie next to you."

Bodie had already pulled Doyle's T shirt off, and was circling lazy fingers over Doyle's chest, brushing the taut nipples, occasionally flicking out a pink, darting tongue to lick at them.

Doyle lifted Bodie's head, placing small kisses on the damp skin of his face and throat, moist lips gliding like silk over the satiny skin.

Bodie's hand moved to Doyle's buttocks, drawing him closer, with Doyle's crotch resting hotly against his thigh. Bodie lifted his knee, rubbed it over Doyle's aching hardness, his hand stroking the firm, rounded mounds of buttock at the same time, outlining them through the thick denim of his jeans.

"Mmmm... s'nice..." Doyle whispered, indicating the knee rubbing leisurely over is crotch, lifting himself to the gentle friction.

"Oh yeah..." Bodie answered, "Oh, Ray, so hard and hot... feels so good..."

"Silky long eyelashes..." Doyle sighed. "Amazing," making Bodie close his eyes, kissing each eyelid in turn. Then he rubbed at each of them with the tip of his nose, making Bodie laugh.

One hand was unzipping Bodie's tracksuit top and pulling it off, then moving in hard, insistent circles over Bodie's chest and back, pausing to outline each shoulder and collarbone, trailing a light fingertip all the way down Bodie's spine, making him jump.

"Mmmm, like that..."

"Know you do. That's why I do it..." Doyle said, repeating the caress.

He slid his hands under the elasticated waistband of the tracksuit pants, skimming over the indention of Bodie's bare waist, fingers trailing over the soft patch of down there to the swelling mound of firm buttock.

"Wanna know what I did?" he whispered, wanting to make this good for Bodie, knowing he could, one fingertip sliding down to the silky hot cleft between the generous buttocks, stroking there.

He waited, but Bodie stayed silent in breathless anticipation.

"...you know... while you were asleep in the deckchair?" Doyle was timing his actions to his words perfectly, knowing just what to do for maximum effect, and when to do it, gauging how to give Bodie the greatest pleasure. He was well aware that this was one of Bodie's favourite caresses too.

Seeing from Bodie's rapt, fascinated face and the darkening blue eyes holding him so sexily, that he had Bodie's full attention, he added, "came in my pants, from watching you sitting there..." just as his finger finally found the tight pucker of flesh and slipped inside.

"God, Ray..." Bodie gasped, with an involuntary thrust against him. He bent one knee up to give Doyle greater access to the hot passage.

"...you looked so beautiful..." Doyle went on, breathing hard, as a second finger joined the first, massaging gently, and his other hand pulled down the front of the tracksuit trousers, freeing Bodie's hard cock. Bodie moaned deeply and satisfyingly in his ear.

"Know what you did when you were asleep too?" Doyle asked in the same silky tone of voice.

Bodie thrust against him again as the fingers probed deeper.

"...shifted in your sleep and moved your arm so it rested on your cock, and rubbed yourself a couple of times... nearly drove me crazy... 'cos I was thinkin' about you... you know, the first time we made love, when I sucked you and you were so hard and hot for it, and kept beggin' me not to stop..."

"God..." Bodie moaned again, stopping the erotic flow of words with a ferocious kiss, tongue thrusting hotly almost to the back of Doyle's throat.

He was pulling at Doyle's jeans, still kissing him. Doyle helped, unzipping them and pulling them down, amazed he could be aroused again so quickly, glad it was happening here like this, in such an idyllic setting, making it special somehow...

He kicked jeans and trainers off and turned, resting on his knees and elbows, legs wide apart, offering himself. But when Bodie made no move, Doyle twisted round to look at him...

Bodie was a gloriously sensual sight, sitting there naked, with his legs apart, leaning back on his hands, skin glinting pale cream in the dim, green-hued light, except for the endearing pink patches where he'd caught the sun, and the rosy-tipped, upright cock bobbing near his stomach.

"Sure?" Bodie asked, looking round, his face a mixture of uncertainty and arousal, eyes almost black with desire. "Here... like this?"

"Here, like this..." Doyle said, touching his lips affectionately and the grazing his hand over Bodie's cock in unspoken invitation, brushing his fingers through the dark silky bush of hair at his groin.

"So beautiful..." he whispered appreciatively, fingers still playing with the impressive cock, "want it so much... and it's long overdue, sunshine... day's overdue. We might not have another chance here... come on..."

"Yeah, but not yet," Bodie whispered harshly, pulling him close again, "left you behind..." kissing him, hands running possessively over him from shoulder to groin.

He hefted one thigh over him, snaked a hand between Doyle's legs from behind, fingers teasing the thicker down at the top of his thighs then moved his fingers to the cleft between Doyle's buttocks. "Hairy little monster..." he whispered, "even here... love it..."

He pulled back a little, hearing Doyle's murmur of delight as he ran a hand down the front of Doyle's body to the thick shaft, feeling the stomach muscles ripple at his touch. He lowered his head, rubbed his cheek and nose over the hard cock, sniffing appreciatively.

"Yeah, I know," Doyle whispered apologetically, "it's all still there from before. Sorry..."

"Don't be..." Bodie whispered back dazedly, nuzzling and licking, "Christ, the taste of you Ray... wonderful..."

He held Doyle's hard cock in one hand, hitched a little further down to take it in his mouth, sucking with easy familiarity, sliding from root to tip in one long, exquisite motion, just how Doyle liked it, feeling it harden further in his mouth.

As Doyle started to thrust, Bodie parted the lean thighs and teased the tight cleft with a fingertip, pushing inside when Doyle's legs opened and he relaxed for him with a deep, contented sigh, the finger massaging the hot, tight passage in rhythm with Bodie's sucking mouth.

"So long... been so long..." Doyle gasped, voice catching in his throat, "love you so much..." And as the pleasure waves threatened to peak unbearably soon, "Christ, Bodie... too much... I'll come..."

"No you won't," Bodie said confidently, sliding his mouth off the slick shaft, giving it a final, farewell lick, "not yet you won't... not till we're good and ready..."

He pulled Doyle up firmly onto splayed knees and positioned himself behind him, cock nudging at the entrance, making Doyle press back against him.

Bodie was on the point of wetting his fingers to lubricate his cock, when he looked down and changed his mind...

He pulled some damp tufts of grass, mixed with leaves and fern from the ground instead, wiping them over his cock, wetting it thoroughly, enjoying the spiky, cool feel of it on his engorged heat.

Twisting his head round, Doyle could see what he was doing. Bodie heard him whisper, "Christ, Bodie... so sexy..." just before Bodie's cock slid between the relaxed, parted thighs.

Bodie pushed home easily, exultantly, with a groan of pure pleasure. It had never been quite like this before. However good it had been, Doyle had never opened to him so easily. He'd never been able to push right in with one, easy thrust... he'd had to take it slow for fear of hurting him, in two or three easy, gradual strokes, but this was... mindblowing...

"Oh Ray, you're wanting it so..." he sobbed...

Then he was flying, soaring, and Doyle was there with him every step of the way. He was thrusting hard with Doyle urging him on, wriggling back against him, wanting it just as much as he did.

Bodie wanted it to last for ever, but knew it wouldn't. The pleasure was so great he knew he'd come in seconds. It was too good... too perfect, and he'd been so frustrated, wanting Ray so much...Doyle was crying out in sheer animal pleasure at each thrust. Bodie heard him whisper, "Oh yeah... harder, love... harder, really do it to me..." and wrapped his hand round Doyle's rigid cock, pumping it in the same rhythm...

Doyle came first, the hot semen soaking Bodie's hand. Bodie gritted his teeth, and managed two more hard thrusts, and came too, spurting endlessly into the hot, snug passage, feeling the warm cream trickling down Doyle's thighs...

Lying splayed, flat on his back, Doyle lazily rubbed the drying stickiness into his stomach with a relaxed hand, and opened his eyes to find a brilliant blue sky above them, peeping through the branches to the trees. He could feel the dappled sunlight touching his damp, fevered skin in warm, sensual patches, and the soft, moist grass underneath him.

He closed his eyes in total contentment, pressing himself into the ground.

Bodie was lying on his back too, hand lightly clasped in Doyle's, fingers curled round his. As Doyle moved, Bodie let go of him hand and a possessive arm flopped down heavily round Doyle's waist instead, drawing him close. "Love you..." he whispered huskily, snuggling his head into Doyle's neck, placing a soft kiss on his throat.

Doyle had known that for a while now, but it was only recently Bodie had hesitantly begun to tell him so. Right now, it made Doyle's contentment complete...

He stroked the smooth cap of hair, placed a moist kiss on the top of Bodie's head. "You were bloody marvelous..." he said sleepily, "it was what you did with the grass you know... that was what finally sent me over the edge... that was such a turn on..."

"Had to use something," Bodie explained drowsily, "didn't want to hurt you..."

"You wouldn't have done... I wanted it too much..."

He propped himself on an elbow, bent to whisper in Bodie's ear, "the thought of what you did turns me on all over again... you wetting your beautiful, hard cock with the grass before you put it in me..."

"Mmmm..." Bodie sighed, opening one darkly pupilled eye to look at him. "You, sunshine, have a wonderful way with words..." He chuckled. "Yeah, come to think of it, quite liked that bit myself. Feels good... see?" plucking some more tufts of grass and fern from his side and rubbing them over Doyle's limp cock.

Doyle squirmed at the cool, damp, tickly sensations, repeated the gesture on Bodie with some grass he picked himself, then rubbed it upwards over Bodie's belly and chest.

"If Cowley could only see us now..." Bodie mused, a look of tender wonderment on his face, eyes soft with repletion, "we thought we were gonna have a lousy time here with him, and it's been the best ever... we've never wanted it so much...not ever..." running his fingers through Doyle's unruly curls which were glinting auburn in the bright patches of sunlight.

Bodie smiled, taking in the lean, lazily sprawled body, the sensual, dreamy gaze of the half-closed, slitted green eyes, the full swollen lips. Spoilt for choice, he decided on balance that the full lips were especially irresistible, so he outlined them with a grazing fingertip, and then with the tip of his tongue. Then his eyes trailed down the whole of the sated body, Doyle watching as he did so, his hand stroking the dark, cropped head.

Finally Bodie's head sank to Doyle's stomach, lazily lapping the remaining cream there.

When he'd finished he gave a sigh of deep satisfaction and lifted his head, an evil grin on his face. He plucked more generous handfuls of grass and fern, placing them in a generous mound on Doyle's chest.

"Bloody lunatic... what the hell're you doin'?" Doyle chuckled, looking down.

Bodie's grin became even more evil. "Thought we might take some back with us for later... might try slippin' into your room tonight. Worth the risk, don't you think?"

"Be all dry and stringy by then," Doyle pointed out.

"Not if you put it in the sink and soak it in water for a couple of hours, sunshine, till we're ready for it," Bodie explained patiently, looking very pleased with himself. Then he added wickedly, "couple of hours be enough for you? Think you'll be up to it by then?"

Doyle picked up the mound of grass on his chest and dumped it unceremoniously on Bodie's head, but was feeling too gloriously happy to rise to the bait in any other way. "Oh yeah," he said dreamily, "my turn this time though, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Bodie said magnanimously, "why d' you think I mentioned it in the first place, you randy little sod? If it was that much of a turn on for you, don't see why it shouldn't do the same for me."

Doyle patted him sharply on the flat of his stomach in reprimand, then sat up and dusted the leaves and grass from his body before he reached for his jeans and clambered into them. "Come on... be late for dinner."

"Dinner? Who needs dinner?" Bodie asked with supreme innocence, as he scrambled to his feet, "just had mine, haven't I?" with a sexy wink, "very nice it was too... don't think I could face anything else."

"God, I must have been very good," Doyle muttered as they made their way back across the lawn, every pocket surreptitiously laden with damp handfuls of grass and leaves, "never known you to refuse a meal before..."

-- THE END --

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