(sequel to "Solitaire")

The phone rang just after midnight.

Only half awake, Doyle reached out and drew the receiver under the quilt, sleepily righting it at the second try.

"Doyle."

At first he thought the line was dead but then the unmistakable sound of heavy breathing penetrated his sleep- drugged consciousness.

"Bodie!"

"Nah - obscene phone call, this is."

"Oh, Jesus, mate, you still in Brum then?"

"Nope - snuggled up nice an' cosy next to you."

"Wish you were," Doyle said regretfully. "Bloody Cowley sending you out of my life when I only just laid hands on you."

"Hands and just about everything else," Bodie said reminiscently. "Thought I'd let you know I hadn't forgotten."

"Glad about that."

Doyle had settled himself comfortably now, lying back on the pillow with the phone tucked neatly into its folds so that it was like having Bodie next to him in the bed, whispering intimately in the darkness.

"You alone?"

"Course I'm alone," Doyle said indignantly.

"Tell me you love me then."

"I love you, Bodie."

"You're alone." A monumental smugness.

"You don't trust me." Doyle was hurt.

"Course I trust you, but you could have had Cowley there - or Murphy or someone. Might have been working for all I know."

"I'm in bed." Doyle invested the words with as low and sensual a sound as he could manage. "All alone in this bloody great king-size and dreaming of you."

A heavy sigh nearly blasted his ear drums.

"Miss me?"

A little silence, then: "Yeah. I miss you."

"You don't sound very sure."

"Hasn't been easy to get to sleep the last five nights," Doyle admitted.

"Been lying there thinking about me, have you?"

"Matter of fact, yes."

"Nice thoughts?"

"Lovely - but lonely."

"Do anything about it, did you?"

"What d'you mean?"

Bodie gave a vulgar snort. "Can't be that innocent, Ray - you've done it for me a few times now."

"Oh, that." Doyle tried to sound indifferent.

"Yeah - that!" Bodie's voice was loaded with meaning.

"No, of course not."

"No of course about it. I've been thinking about you as well, you know."

"You mean you..."

"I what?"

"You know!"

"Coy all of a sudden, aren't we? D'you mean did I jerk off?"

Doyle gulped at the picture of Bodie, alone in a hotel bedroom, dreamily wanking and thinking about...

He took a long breath.

"Well, did you?"

"Yes. Several times."

Another silence while Doyle tried to control his breathing.

"Turning you on, am I?" Bodie demanded sexily.

"What makes you think - "

"The sound of that gale blasting in my lug'ole!"

Doyle squirmed restlessly. "Yes, you are, blast you!"

Bodie gave a gusty sigh. "Wish I could see you. Love to watch you getting turned on. Like a little wild thing, all eyes and hair and heavin' ribs... Lovely!"

Doyle gave a tiny choke of laughter but before he could reply Bodie said softly, "You getting hard, Ray?"

"A bit."

It was more than a bit, if he was honest, his cock was no longer slack against his thigh but lengthening in slow pulses, thickening. His balls were aching pleasurably.

"Got any pyjamas on?"

"No - what's all the interrogation?"

"Good. Ray, hold the phone in your left hand."

"I am."

"Well done - so use your other hand to touch yourself, lover, touch your nipples like I do, pretend it's me loving you. Go on!"

"I am." Doyle could hardly get the words out. "Bodie, for chrissake, you'll get me so bloody turned on..."

"I want to. Want to make love to you. Want to touch you but me bloody fingers're not thin enough to get down the wire so you'll have to do it for me!"

Bodie's voice was husky, roused, burning direct into Doyle's brain. His fingertip obediently circled his own, tiny nub of erect flesh, almost without volition.

"I'm doing it for you, Bodie."

"Feel good?"

"Not so good as you doing it." Regretfully.

"I am doing it, sunshine. Come on, tell me what I'm doing."

"Touching me - touching my nipple, right one. Getting it hard for you."

"Wish I could lick it for you." Bodie sounded sad.

A little giggle. "I'm not a contortionist, Bodie."

"Thought you were." Bodie sounded surprised. "Some of the positions you fancy! Let that hand slide down to your navel, Ray."

"OK." Doyle let his hand drift down, his mouth lit in a smile. "It's there."

"Rub it a bit - nice and gentle. Dip your finger in there."

"Mmmm!" Doyle was really enjoying this now, never embarrassed by his body or its needs.

"Over your hipbones - love those hipbones, all sharp and sexy, and then your belly's so soft. Can you feel that?"

"Y..yes. I can feel it."

"Beautiful," Bodie whispered. "You on your back, Ray?"

"Yes."

"Open your legs for me, lover."

Doyle gasped again, opening them obediently. "They are, all ready for you."

"Good. Slide that hand down over your thigh. Touch that lovely hair for me on your leg where it really turns me on. You know, where I like to rub my prick!"

Doyle knew all right but he was trembling so much with his growing urgency that it was difficult to comply.

"Getting impatient?" Bodie asked softly.

"You know... I am..."

"Yeah," his lover said affectionately. "But you've got to make this last, Ray, just a little bit longer. Let me touch your balls now, feel them all soft and heavy in my palm."

Doyle's hand obeyed, cradling warm, hairy and slightly sweaty suede. "God, Bodie, I shall..." He gulped hard. "I'm holding 'em. Rubbing..."

"Nice and gentle now, don't want to hurt you."

"I won't." Doyle rubbed, eyes closed, face quivering.

"Want me to touch your prick?"

"God!" A long, pleasure-anguished moan. "Yes, please, Bodie, touch me. Touch my prick. Hold it."

"OK, lover. Here we go. Just one finger first, mind. Slide it up, all the way up from those gorgeous, furry balls, right up to the tip. Now, use two fingers - just fingertips, don't be greedy! Now your palm - flat, don't hold it yet, just rub it gently. Up and down. Up and down. That's it."

The lullaby-soft voice wove its spell and Doyle moved to it, obedient to the distant will, lost in a mindless, pleasured haze.

"You really hard now."

"Course... I bloody am..." Scornfully. "I'm so hard I'm nearly bursting. Bodie, let me do it properly - please."

"Run your finger over the tip, Ray."

Doyle groaned in frustration, obeyed.

"Is it damp?"

Doyle gasped, swallowed, moaned. "Yes. Yes. Bodie, please!"

"Lick your finger, Ray."

"Bodie!"

"Lick it!"

"I'm licking it, damn you," Doyle told him raggedly.

"What do you taste like?"

"Bitter... salty."

"Mmmm. 'n all for me."

"Every bit," Doyle agreed.

"Hold yourself now, Ray. Don't move, just hold your hand still. You doing that?"

"Y..yes. God, Bodie, get on with it. You're driving me crazy!"

"Now - take it nice and slow, a nice gentle slide. Squeeze - not too hard. Just right."

"C..christ... Bodie... so good, so bloody good..." Doyle groaned.

"Faster then, lover, if it's getting that good."

"Yes. Oh, god, yes."

"Go on, then, do it, Ray. Do it to yourself. Make yourself come, lover. Come for me."

"Yes. Bodie, I'm... I'm coming...coming.."

Another much longer silence broken by tiny whimpers that went almost unheard.

Then: "Ray?"

"Yes?" Shaky but audibly recovering.

"You OK?"

"What do you think?" Doyle purred, stretching. "I feel bloody fantastic. Bodie, you're incredible."

"Glad to oblige. Feeling sleepy now?"

"Mmm. Sleepy and very, very happy. Love you, Bodie!"

"Think I must love you too, sunshine. Don't do this for everyone. Snuggle down, lover."

Doyle snuggled. "I'm still missing you."

"Me too - but it won't be long now. You ready to go to sleep?"

"Pretty well."

"OK. Hang up then and go to sleep. Dream of me."

"Yes, please. G'night, Bodie."

"Goodnight, lover."

Doyle lifted a sated and exhausted hand and replaced the phone on its cradle, dropped his head back on the pillow and was almost immediately asleep.

---

A tiny, grating sound woke him.

The front door closed, its click unmistakable, and he came bolt upright.

A line of light flooded down the edge of the barely open bedroom door, footsteps crossed the room and the narrow line of light widened.

"Bodie!"

His partner came right in, grinning broadly.

"Close your mouth, sunshine, you look like a fish!"

Doyle looked from the sturdy frame to the phone and back. "But you're still in Birmingham," he said stupidly.

Bodie dropped his jacket and hauled his sweater over his head. "Never said I was, did I?" he demanded, his voice muffled.

"But...where?" Doyle's brain still wasn't out of neutral, let alone in top gear.

"Phone booth at the corner of the road." Bodie dropped the last of his garments. "Move over, sunshine. I'm cold. Bloody box only had three panes left in it. I'm surprised the phone worked."

"Shouldn't think it does any more," Doyle commented dryly. "Probably looks a bit scorched, doesn't it?"

He accepted the cold body with a shudder.

"Good was it?" Bodie said smugly.

"You're a devious-minded bastard sometimes," Doyle said admiringly. "Where d'you get your ideas from - Playboy?"

"Nah," Bodie said. "Hundred and One Things for Two Boys To Do."

Doyle sniggered. "What about you then?"

"What about me?" Bodie said, his eyes closing.

Doyle leant up on his elbow. "You mean to lie there," he said in loud disbelief, "and tell me you got me turned on like a bleedin' lighthouse and never felt a fucking thing!"

"Oh, no," Bodie said, his mouth lifting in a contented smile. "I wouldn't try and kid you, sunshine."

"Don't you want me to do something about it, then?" Doyle demanded suggestively, pressing his body down the full length of Bodie's still chilly figure.

"Bit late," Bodie said sadly. "I came in me pants, lover."

"What - in a phone box?"

"Couldn't have stopped if I'd been in Cowley's office!" Bodie yawned hugely. "You sound bloody incredible when you're turned on. Sexiest groaning I've ever heard."

Doyle chuckled, relaxing. "Serves you right," he whispered. "Shouldn't have such a persuasive tongue, should you?"

But his only answer was a gentle snore.

Doyle looked down, loving this crazy, devious, sexy lunatic who was the most important being in his life now. He cradled him, sliding back down into sleep himself.

Just let that blue-eyed, innocent-faced seraph wait... revenge would be sweet.

-- THE END --