The Professionals Circuit Archive - Doyle's Vacation in Wales      
Doyle's Vacation in Wales

 

by Anne Carr

  
 Bodie shut his apartment door and leaned against it wearily. It had been
a long day and a boring one, without any redeeming qualities whatsoever.

"Slack, mate, very slack."

Bodie's hand, which had drawn his Browning Hi-power Auto free and aimed it
before the first word was complete, relaxed as he identified the voice.
"Doyle?"

Ray Doyle switched on the table lamp and pointed to the glass of neat
whiskey already poured and waiting. "On the house."

Bodie tossed the drink back and poured another, "Yeh, *my* house. What're
you doing here? I thought you were...."

"Yeh. Vacationing in Wales." Doyle shrugged. "It rains in Wales."

"Have you looked outside recently?" Bodie took off his wet jacket and
tossed it and his boots aside. "It's not exactly *dry* here." Stripping
off his turtleneck he took his drink with him into the bathroom, yelling
back, "So why're you *here* then?"

Doyle made a face and shifted. "No reason."

"What?" Bodie poked his head round the door then disappeared again. "Never
mind...just let me change...."

The sound of the shower drowned the last of his sentence. Doyle stood
abruptly and went to the window. There was nothing to see but black rain
and his own reflection in the glass. He toasted himself mockingly. 'Look
at you. Raymond Doyle. Mr. Cool. That's a bloody laugh, innit?' He leaned
his forehead against the cool window pane. 'You thought it would be easy,
didn't you? Last night, in Wales, it seemed so damned simple. But *here*,
with him in the next room....' "*Damn*!"

He flung away from the glass and went to pour himself another drink. Bodie
had to be told, had to know what had been going through his partner's mind
of late--and he had to be told soon or Doyle was going to go crazy.

In the bathroom, Bodie began to whistle tunelessly, a sure sign he was
recouping his energy. He would be using the soap now, rubbing the white,
musk-scented lather over his belly and down his legs...and the water would
be beading across the broad shoulder muscles. Doyle closed his eyes and
swallowed.

The water abruptly ceased and the bathroom door opened. "Forgot the bloody
towel," a seal slick Bodie pattered by and Doyle nodded, turning aside to
hide the erection that grew as dreams turned to reality and Bodie's nude
body stood not far away. He tried desperately to concentrate on what his
partner was saying.

"You hungry? I've got a couple of steaks...." Bodie wandered into the
small kitchen, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Doyle tried not to look,
not to notice the line of the body, the way the sinewy back flowed easily
into slim buttocks and on to thighs. He'd been fighting this for a long
time, this *awareness* of his partner, this wanting to touch and be
touched by Bodie. He gazed hungrily and bit his lip. "Bodie...."

"Yeh? How about steak and chips? How hungry are you?"

"Bodie, have you ever done it with a man?"

Bodie stopped prattling and laid the towel around his shoulders, then
slowly turned to look at Doyle. "What?"

"H...have you ever..."

"...done it with a man. That's what I thought you said."

"Well? Have you?"

"What'd you do in Wales anyway?"

Doyle waved an impatient hand. "I'm serious."

"Why?"

Unable to answer Doyle looked up and let his partner read his face. Bodie
sucked a deep breath and stood silently. Ray waited for the explosion, the
possible end of a long friendship, and felt a shudder rip through him.
Bodie's face was blank, his blue eyes expressionless. The reply, when it
came was not what Ray had expected. "How long?"

"How long?"

"How long have you...."

"I don't know. A few months," Doyle's voice grated. "Forever." 

Bodie leaned against the counter. "And you? Have you ever...."

"No!" Doyle took a step forward and stopped. "No, of course not."

Bodie nodded. "I see."

"I thought, maybe in the mercs...."

"No. Not me, mate."

Ray nodded and turned away to pick up his jacket. It was what he had
expected after all. Not Bodie's manner perhaps--he was cool about it--but
the outcome was the same. "See ya."

"Where're you going?" Bodie sounded just a bit bewildered.

"Home."

"What about dinner?"

Doyle stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He knew Bodie very well. Knew
that Bodie was prepared to forget the last five minutes had ever taken
place. But he also knew that his own mind couldn't forget. "I have to go."
He looked back briefly. Once. "I have to write a letter."

Bodie watched him leave without further comment, then turned to put the
steak back into the freezer, his face still utterly unreadable.

******

It hit Bodie suddenly in the middle of a very pleasant dream about speed
and light, and brought him straight up in bed, fully awake and alert.
Doyle had to write a letter. That letter would be to Cowley and would
contain Ray's resignation from the Squad. "Bloody idiot!"

He switched on the bedside light and picked up the phone only to hang it
up again before dialling the second number. This needed a little careful
consideration.

He had been aware of a change in his partner for some time--the occasional
odd look, a certain readiness of manner that was unlike the old Doyle--but
he had merely accustomed himself and yes, had even come to prefer the new
attitude of his partner. It had not affected their work certainly, may
even have improved it some, as much of the abrasiveness between them had
smoothed away.

He had not, however, even remotely suspected that Doyle was thinking of
him *sexually*.

Or was it entirely sexual?

Bodie kicked the covers aside, irritated. It seemed suddenly apparent that
somewhere along the line Doyle's sincere liking for his partner had
crossed the barrier into a stronger feeling. And for Doyle, sexual
attraction was a natural follower to...was the right word, love?

With Doyle it was all or nothing. If Bodie wasn't interested then fine,
but Doyle wouldn't plan on sticking around to wallow about in 'what might
have beens'. Doyle would pull up stakes and go on to the next
thing--probably something well away from CI5. Well away from Bodie.

So what the question really boiled down to was this: Was he, Bodie,
willing to lose Ray on every level?

The answer was just as simple: no.

Doyle was the best partner he had ever worked with. They had been together
a long time now, had learned to trust each other implicitly. Trust wasn't
easy for Bodie. He had a sudden recollection of an incident that had taken
place less than a month ago.

Coming in on their suspect from two directions Doyle had abruptly run
directly into the line of fire. And Bodie hadn't thought twice about
it--hadn't thought about it at all--he had pushed his partner aside, ready
to take the bullet himself rather than have Ray get hurt. The gunman had
missed by inches, luckily, and Bodie's bullet had taken him an instant
later.

If he was ready to give his life for his partner, was it so much to ask to
give his body?

He had never looked at Ray sexually; but now he lay in the warm bed and
thought about his partner. He had certainly seen him in every state of
dishevelment over the years as they shared showers and, once or twice, a
bed. Doyle was of a lighter frame, smaller boned, but tough with it,
strong and lean. There wasn't a spare bit of fat anywhere on him. He tried
to imagine what it would feel like to have Ray's long fingers stroking him
or his full lips kissing him and felt a sudden warmth in his groin. He
glanced down at his half-hardened shaft.

Might be possible, after all.

And afterwards? Would Doyle be satisfied with just a physical
relationship?

Would Bodie?

Bodie shrugged. Afterwards would have to take care of itself. At least
this way they'd have a chance--once Doyle resigned from the Squad there
would be no possibilities at all.

This time he dialled the complete number. Doyle lifted the receiver
immediately, not sounding sleepy. "Yeh?"

"What great manners you have."

"What d'you want?"

"I want to talk," Bodie hesitated, then added, "about us."

The phones were tapped, it was regulation CI5 practice. Doyle answered
briefly. "No."

Bodie heard the click that broke the connection and replaced his own
receiver before fluidly cursing. Bloody Doyle was already cutting the
invisible bonds between them.

He swung his legs out of bed and grabbed up the first pair of cords that
came his way. If Mohammed couldn't go to the mountain....

******

Doyle closed his eyes and lay back on the couch. It was good of Bodie to
*try*, but there was nothing really to talk about and prolonging it
wouldn't help. Bodie couldn't give him any arguments he hadn't already
given himself anyway. He lay quietly and let his mind wander, too keyed up
to sleep, too tired to do anything else.

The doorbell, when it buzzed twenty minutes later, startled him and he
jumped. Easy to guess who it was. He switched on the intercom with
reluctance. "Go away, Bodie."

"Let me in, you bloody idiot. It's wet out here!"

Doyle growled but pressed the button that released the outside door. "All
right, mate. Get it over with."

Bodie came through the door a few minutes later and took the towel and the
drink Doyle handed him with a murmured, "'Kyou."

Doyle sat on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Well?"

"Where's the letter?"

Ray nodded toward the desk.

Bodie picked up the white envelope and read the address then neatly ripped
the paper in half and dropped the pieces in the small trash can at his
feet. "I never had you pegged as a coward, mate."

Doyle merely glanced at him, then away.

"I always thought if you wanted something you'd at least give it more than
one shot," Bodie crossed the room and sat down on the couch. "Ray,
listen...."

Doyle pushed Bodie's hand away and leaned back, still not looking at him.
"You're not making this easier."

Bodie regarded him for a long moment, wondering what to do next. "Doyle, I
don't know if it would work, but at least I'm willing to try. That is, if
you're still of a mind to...."

Doyle stared at him, his round face suddenly flushed, and Bodie met his
eyes, unblinking. Slowly Ray reached out a hand and traced a line along
his partner's face, barely touching. He felt Bodie's quick breath against
his palm and his heart began to pound. "Bodie?"

Bodie raised one eyebrow and nipped lightly on the finger by his lips. Ray
made a sound, then hands were in Bodie's hair, pulling him forward to meet
his hungry mouth. There was a feel of skin on skin and a taste of whiskey
and something salty, then Doyle's tongue was invading his mouth, darting
forward and retreating, inviting him to follow.

It was not like he had thought it would be. There was no feeling of
revulsion, no wanting to pull away. An explosion of fire was loose in his
veins and he ground his mouth against Doyle's. Hands slid over his back
and began to pull at his jacket. He yanked it aside, and his holster and
shirt. Doyle wore only a long robe which parted under Bodie's fingers,
then fell to the floor as they stood.

Doyle reached out to hook his thumb in the waist of Bodie's cords, pulling
him hard up against his body. He was panting and sweat was breaking out
over both of them. "Bodie? Are you sure? You have to be *sure*!"

"Shut up," his partner commanded and rubbed his hips against Doyle's.
"Does it feel like I'm not sure?"

They kissed again and Doyle's fingers worked the belt and zip of the cords
then pushed them down, all the time feeling Bodie's hands as they stroked
down his back and up again.

Bodie kicked the pants aside and moved closer. They stood body to body,
getting used to the feel of two erections trapped between them. Doyle felt
the stiffening start to leave his knees and gripped his partner's waist.
Bodie was exploring his ear with tongue and teeth, not holding back, not
bothering to be very gentle as he sucked the lobe then rubbed his face
against Doyle's. He bent slightly and Doyle felt Bodie's hard length slip
between his thighs to pulse against him.

They were going down, sliding to the carpeted floor with Bodie on top, his
weight held on his hands as he knelt above Doyle. His eyes were bluer than
Doyle had ever seen them, with an expression that was just as new. Bodie's
eyes closed as his mouth covered Doyle's and caressed it, lingering over
one full lip then the other. Doyle heard himself moan and arched
instinctively as Bodie's hands gripped his buttocks and pulled.

The sensation was incredible, more than he had ever dreamed, had ever
*wanted*. He ran his hands across Bodie's chest, felt the hard nipples and
the pounding heart beat against ribs and stroked lower. His fingers found
the hard shaft and hesitantly touched it.

Bodie stilled, breathing heavily, "God, Ray! Go on!"

"Lay back," Doyle gasped and Bodie rolled to his back, lifting his hips.
Doyle leaned forward on one elbow and ran his free hand down Bodie's chest
again, across the flat abdomen and down to tangle in the dark curly groin
hair.

Bodie groaned as he felt Doyle's fingers stroke and grip. This was no
girl's hand on him, but Ray's, and his own grasp was just as strong as it
journeyed across Doyle's back searching for a hold on the sweat covered
muscles.

Doyle spread Bodie's legs and cradled the full sac in his hand, rubbing
with controlled intensity as his partner's hips bucked. Through half
closed eyes he watched the light play over Bodie's moving body and
swallowed. "Bodie...I want to...."

Bodie nodded, and his hands held Doyle's face still for his kiss. "Yeh,"
he breathed into Ray's ear. "Now...."

Doyle moved down his partner's body, stroking, until he was poised over
Bodie's rigid manhood. He wanted to touch, but was still half reluctant to
take the committing step.

Bodie took the decision out of his hands. Digging his fingers into Doyle's
hair he pushed sharply, lifting his hips at the same moment.

There was a sensuous feel of soft skin surrounding hardness and a new
taste. Doyle savoured the sensations briefly, licking with a swirling
motion up and down the shaft, then he bit gently and began to suck Bodie's
hard length.

He dimly heard Bodie's groan and felt the steel fingers in his hair
tremble. This was what he had wanted and it was good--so good! He sucked
harder, taking all the shaft into his mouth, riding the erratic motions of
his partner with ease. Bodie abruptly stiffened, then lifted twice more
and cried out as he began to spill the warm fluid. Doyle swallowed then
felt Bodie's hands leave his hair and touch his shoulders, pulling him
easily up the sweat soaked body.

Bodie's open mouth eagerly kissed Ray and he paused, "Is that what I taste
like?"

Doyle nodded and smiled hazily, "It's good, innit?"

"Strictly a matter of opinion," Bodie rolled, trapping Doyle beneath him.
"Your turn, sunshine."

Doyle felt his erection rub against his partner's belly, then Bodie lifted
and trapped the ready length between his firm thighs.

They moved together and apart, slowly at first, getting the feel of each
other, and Doyle felt the fire in his veins centre in his pulsing rod. It
was impossible to breathe but he didn't care, didn't notice, as Bodie's
body met his and twisted, drawing him deeper into the cleft between
Bodie's legs.

His climax hit suddenly, intensely, and he arched, biting his lip until he
tasted blood to stop the cry that rose in his throat. He felt the wetness
flow and spread against his partner.

Bodie sighed raggedly and turned to his side, waiting until Doyle's
breathing had settled a bit before murmuring, "When we can walk, I think
an adjournment to the bedroom is in order."

"Yeh," Doyle agreed. "In about a month or so."

Bodie lifted one leg and bent it to investigate his knees. "Christ!"

"Whas wrong?"

"I've got bloody rug burns.

Doyle sat up with a grunt. "Shall I kiss it better, dear?" he asked in a
high falsetto.

Bodie shoved him aside and laughed. "Com'on. I need a drink." He glanced
down, "And a towel."

******

Later, settled comfortably in Doyle's double bed with Ray cradled against
his chest, Bodie watched as his partner's slanted eyes closed and his
breathing grew regular. Tracing an abstract pattern on Doyle's back with a
finger, he felt an unaccustomed wave of emotion flow through him for the
man who slept in his arms. It had been good, the sex, better than good,
better than he would ever had imagined--but sex, intercourse,
screwing...making love...was always good. This moment of quiet tenderness,
of total trust, was what was special. Who wrote the book that said he had
to find the other half of himself in a woman? What did it matter if the
person who made him...satisfied...in mind as well as body, was a man?
Wasn't the lasting kind of happiness that which came with knowledge of
your partner? Nobody knew him better than Ray. It was a knowledge far
beyond likes and dislikes--Ray knew his mind. Knew how it turned and
twisted, the light and dark and hidden shadows, and, it seemed, loved him
in spite, or maybe *because*, of all those things.

Just like he knew Ray.

Doyle snuggled closer and opened one eye. "What're you doing?"

"Thinkin'."

"What're you thinkin' about?"

"Us."

"Come to any conclusions?"

"Yeh," Bodie closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. "I think
it'll work."

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