The Professionals Circuit Archive - Dance Floor	Dance Floor

 

by Tauna

  
 Bodie let the crowd move him around. The press of bodies was tight and
the thundering music blocked out everything but sensation. His white linen
shirt was soaked and transparent. His black trousers hugged each ample
curve. He smiled as another hand slid over his plump bottom. He so adored
being appreciated. He squinted from the strobing lights until he finally
spotted Doyle in the morass.

"Oi Ray!"

His voice was lost in the thud of the bass. Bodie shouldered his way
towards the gyrating figure of his partner. More hands slid across him as
he moved. One brave soul actually dragged a palm across his crotch. He
smiled broadly, as whoever it was had got a handful. He wondered if they
had enjoyed it as much as he had. He lofted the bottles of beer over his
head and waved one at Doyle. He gulped thirstily at his own, letting the
cool fizz run down his throat. A large, slim fingered hand snatched the
other bottle from his slick grip. Glowing green eyes sparkled at him as
Doyle tipped his own bottle back. Bodie enjoyed the view as condensation
and sweat trickled over his partner's chin and down his neck. Doyle wiped
his face with his bottle.

"Hot innit?" they mouthed in unison.

Both men smiled and returned to jiggling with the beat. Bodie liked
watching Doyle dance. Watching that wiry form undulate to whatever the
club happened to be playing was a rarely indulged in pleasure. And a
pleasure it was this time as well. A sweat soaked, sage coloured silk
shirt clung to Doyle's broad shoulders. Only the bottom two buttons were
still fastened, showing off his fuzzy chest and trim tum. His jeans were
old, worn and well fitting. Bodie had occasionally managed to manoeuver a
hand or two into one of those tight back pockets. He was thinking about
doing just that when Doyle brushed a hip up against him. A wicked
throbbing began in his groin. Bodie tried to ignore it. Moments later,
Doyle's thigh rubbed against him in the press. It remained far longer than
it should have. So, the randy old toad was at it again. Bodie chuckled and
tossed back more of his beer. He snorted some of it as the crowd shifted
and unceremoniously knocked him into Doyle. A steely arm locked around his
waist. Bodie smiled. He liked the feel of Doyle's arm around him. He was
pulled closer until they were mashed together into a single sweaty unit.
Bodie's smile grew. He slipped his arms around Doyle's shoulders, wiggling
against him. No one knew them here. No one cared what they did either,
Ibiza being Ibiza. Bodie let himself relax into the embrace. They moved
together for some time before Bodie felt Doyle's bottle of beer being slid
up and down the crack of his arse. Like his trousers weren't wet and
clammy enough already. He put his lips close to Doyle's ear and shouted
into it.

"What're you doing Ray?"

A crooked grin was all the answer he received. Bodie shrugged and blew
across Doyle's bare neck. Odd to see so much of it after so long, but
Doyle had clipped his hair short in the last year and Bodie had found that
his partner's neck was now very sensitive. He blew again. A little shiver
rippled through Doyle's frame. His lips pulled at a greying, wet wave
plastered near Doyle's ear. In response, Bodie felt a hand replacing the
bottle. He pulled back slightly, but Doyle's grip was strong. He saw
devilment flashing in Doyle's green eyes and an evil smile quirk across
his lips. Bodie vainly tried to slide away.

"Ray.... C'mon don't," he shouted to no effect.

Doyle's gaze raked hungrily over Bodie. He sucked down the rest of his
beer, his tongue lasciviously running around and into the top of the
bottle. He winked and let the bottle slide to the floor. He manoeuvered
Bodie back into his grip and held him tightly. They bounced together to
the rhythm of the music, their bodies touching everywhere. Bodie could
feel how aroused Doyle was. He was in a similar state himself.

Doyle began to stroke Bodie's arse. He tickled the underside of each
cheek. Bodie giggled and squirmed. The pulse of the pounding rhythm grew
faster, dragging them with it. Bodie resigned himself to his fate. Well,
he had been thrown out of better places than this and for far worse.
Doyle's hands gripped him like he was testing melons. Doyle's thick denim
fly rubbed heavily against the thin cotton of his trousers. Bodie's cock
twitched in appreciation. Doyle smiled at him and began to grind in
earnest. In retaliation, Bodie drew the cool bottle across the back of
Doyle's neck. It didn't quite have the effect he thought it would. Doyle's
hips ground against him more forcefully. Bodie sighed and ground back. The
crowd was so close that they were almost alone. Bodie could feel himself
going flush with the heat of the room and of the feel of Doyle's body
rubbing against him. The crowd kept them going to the increasing tempo.
Bodie cried out when Doyle's teeth began to ravage his neck. No one heard
or cared. The beer bottle slipped unnoticed from his fingers. As his head
fell back, Doyle's teeth teased around to his throat. The roiling pleasure
in his gut was amazing. God but only Ray ever got him going like this. And
in public besides. Must really be getting old to let him get away with
this. He was thankful that his trousers were dark and already wet. Bodie
gasped and fell heavily against Doyle, when his knees gave out with the
force of his orgasm. It took him a few beats to realise it was the crowd
was holding him up, not Doyle. Bodie leaned back and looked at Doyle's
face. His eyes were hooded and dark, an expression of deep pleasure in
them. A satisfied smirk played over his full lips. His fingers stroked
Bodie's throat.

"My turn now," Doyle mouthed.

Bodie smiled. He slipped his hands from Doyle's shoulders and gripped his
partner's waist. They didn't go all the way around anymore, but to be
truthful, Bodie liked it better that way. He teased his thumbs up and down
Doyle's denim covered cock. Doyle's eyes closed and his hips moved with
more urgency. It only took a small increase in pressure before Doyle
collapsed against Bodie's still heaving chest. His hands stroked lazily up
and down Bodie's broad back. The leisurely pace of the petting was at odds
with the still thundering music. Bodie yelped as Doyle pinched him on the
bum.

"Let's go," Doyle shouted, pointing towards the bar.

Bodie rolled his eyes and allowed the crowd to push them towards the edge
of the dance floor. Several unfamiliar hands groped Bodie before they made
it out of the morass. He was now getting very tired and he was sure his
bottom was bruised. The noise had lessened enough for them to hear each
other's harsh pants.

"C'mere Sunshine...."

Doyle pulled him into a fast kiss. They smiled mischievously at each
other. Bodie felt the faint stirrings of interest in his gut again. He let
out a startled yelp as Doyle got a good grip on his waistband and started
dragging him towards the exit.

"Oi...Ray!"

"What?"

"Where are we goin?"

He prayed that the destination was not another club.

"Bath and bed, my dear."

Bodie masked his relief with a snide comment.

"What...you gettin old Ray? Sleep...this soon?"

"Who said anything about sleep? I said bed."

Doyle's eyes flashed merrily. Bodie laughed as he was pulled into the
sultry island night.

-- THE END --

*2002*

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