The Professionals Circuit Archive - After the Party	    After the
Party

 

by LH

  
 Doyle fumbled to get the key in the lock, giggling as the lock kept
moving away from him and he made hopeless stabs at it with the key. Bodie
was half-slumped against him, laughing helplessly, which didn't help
matters, and Doyle no longer knew which of them was holding the other up.
But it wasn't important. He was feeling too good to care. 

"Come 'ere, sunshine...I'll do it...hopeless..." Bodie gurgled drunkenly
in his ear, trying to reach for the key in Doyle's hand. 

"No way," Doyle protested, moving his hand out of Bodie's reach, "...worse
state than me, mate...be 'ere all night..." 

Finally, by some miracle, he managed to turn the key in the lock and the
door swung open. 

They half walked, half staggered inside, still holding each other up, and
made it to the sofa, falling onto it in a crumpled heap of tangled arms
and legs, laughing weakly. 

"Christ, that's some laugh you've got, Ray," Bodie managed, "stop, will
you...can't breathe...got a stitch..." He held his side painfully and
broke into another fit of giggles. 

"Why're you laughing at everything you say?" Doyle asked, when he could
speak, wiping the tears from his eyes, "...s'not that funny..." 

Eventually they subsided into exhausted silence, apart from the occasional
giggle from Doyle and hiccup from Bodie, lying unselfconsciously with
their arms around round each other, Bodie's head resting heavily on
Doyle's shoulder. 

"Good night, that..." Bodie observed after a while. 

"Yeah..." Doyle winced, raised a careful hand to his forehead. "God,
Bodie...room's spinnin'...make it stop..." 

"...liked your girl better than mine, though...prettier..." 

"...should have said..." Doyle murmured back, closing his eyes, "...could
have swapped." 

"Nah..." Bodie disagreed, "no chance, mate...she was all over you. Should
have gone home with her. She wanted it." 

Doyle shrugged, then yawned expansively, curly head falling onto the back
of the sofa. "Wasn't in the mood...too tired. How was yours?" 

"OK," Bodie said noncommittally. He hiccuped again. "...Didn't like the
way she kissed, though..." sounding wistful. 

Doyle pushed Bodie's head to one side off his shoulder, and sat up
abruptly, interested, realising as soon as he did so that he'd made a
mistake when the room started to swim before his eyes. Bodie gave a moan
of complaint and pulled him roughly back down again, snuggling forcibly
against him. "Don't go away...feels good..." 

Bodie was no seven stone weakling and Doyle was effectively trapped. Not
that he objected. He was enjoying being close to Bodie too. 

"Why? How did she kiss?" he asked, curious. They'd never discussed the
finer points of this particular activity before and he was intrigued. 

"Like this..." Bodie leaned over unselfconsciously, eyes only half open,
and placed a wet, sloppy kiss on Doyle's mouth. 

Doyle wasn't half as perturbed by Bodie's action as he might have been
sober. "That's not so bad," he said, considering the kiss, running his
tongue over his lips, savouring the faint traces of Scotch Bodie had left
behind there. "Why...how did you want her to kiss?" 

Bodie frowned up at him irritably through slitted dark blue eyes. "Come
on, Ray...you know..." he muttered. 

"No, I don't," Doyle assured him with a genteel hiccup, nudging at Bodie's
cheek with his nose, encouraging him. "Come on then...show me," he
challenged. 

For a minute he thought Bodie might have passed out...his eyes were closed
anyway...looking down he could see the thick, dark lashes framed on the
pale cheeks, so he poked him none too gently in the ribs and said, "Hey,
tough guy, how much *you* had to drink tonight? Never been more pissed
than me before. Never kissed me before, either, come to think of it..." 

"Should have done..." Bodie murmured, eyes opening again blearily, proving
he hadn't passed out after all, "s'nice..." 

"So why don't you show me then?" Doyle persisted, devilment making him
continue to egg Bodie on, "...all talk and no action, mate, that's your
trouble..." He rubbed his cheek against Bodie's, enjoying the rough feel
of it where the dark stubble was beginning to show...so different from a
woman's skin. And then the contrast further up his face where it was so
soft...so much softer than any woman's skin he'd touched. 

"You're a pest, Doyle...you know that?" Bodie retaliated irritably, but he
pulled Doyle toward him anyway, "...like this..." mouth covering his in a
definitely unsoft, unsloppy kiss. "Mmmm...just right," he sighed half to
himself when it was over, "...wondered what it'd be like kissing you all
the time I was kissing her...often wondered...d'you know that, Ray? Got
such a gorgeous mouth...'specially this bit..." He smiled lopsidedly at
Doyle, eyes creasing at the corners, fingertip tracing the outline of
Doyle's upper lip. 

"...tickles..." Doyle said, pressing his lips together against the
sensation. 

Somewhere in the back of Doyle's mind there was a growing feeling of
apprehension, a warning bell telling him this was dangerous and that they
shouldn't be playing this kind of game with each other. That if they
carried on, in the morning, Bodie in particular was going to regret it all
and be very unhappy... 

What the hell...he was enjoying himself, and Bodie felt wonderful in his
arms--warm and solid and heavy...Doyle lifted his head and impulsively
began tugging at Bodie's jacket, trying to pull it off his shoulders.
"Take it off," he ordered, "want to lie against you..." 

Bodie's eyes were closed again, but he smiled sweetly at him and didn't
seem to be objecting so Doyle persevered with the jacket. Somehow he
managed to remove it, though he had some difficulty with his left arm when
Bodie's hand got caught up in the lining. But finally Doyle flung the
jacket on the floor and started pulling Bodie's shirt free of his pants,
fingers fumbling with the buttons. 

"What you doing?" Bodie enquired lazily, falling back on the sofa every
time Doyle let go of him. 

"Want to be close...want to lie against you," Doyle complained, frowning
with impatience, frustrated at his inability to undo the buttons. Bodie's
hand joined his, hindering more than helping, but eventually the shirt was
half undone. Doyle settled for that and slid his hand inside to find the
warm flesh of Bodie's chest and back, rubbing his cheek against the broad
chest. 

He hadn't ever been aware of wanting to do this before, but now it was
happening it felt so right he knew he must have wanted it for a long time.
He sighed, pressing them both back on the sofa, hand wriggling round to
Bodie's back, just inside the waistband of his trousers to the smooth
indentation of his bare waist, stroking. He sniffed appreciatively. Bodie
smelt delicious...warm and spicy and very masculine... 

Doyle pressed his nose against the cleft in the middle of Bodie's chest,
then kissed him there, sliding his tongue down as far as the recalcitrant
shirt would allow. Bodie gasped with pleasure. 

"Naughty Ray..." he murmured languorously. 

Doyle's hand started to circle Bodie's stomach through the hampering
shirt, feeling the stomach muscles spasm at his touch. 

"Ah...you like that..." Doyle said triumphantly, then giggled again
helplessly, as one finger found and explored Bodie's belly button through
the thin shirt, before the wandering hand swept back up Bodie's chest in a
featherlight caress. 

"Ummm..." Bodie sighed, stretching, "wicked Ray Doyle...How long have you
known I wanted this...come here...gorgeous...you're gorgeous..." 

Firm hands were running through Doyle's hair, sending prickles of pleasure
up and down his spine. 

"Take your shirt off...want to kiss all that hair underneath," Bodie was
whispering, pulling impotently at Doyle's shirt. 

Doyle was suddenly feeling very weary and would have liked to have curled
up and gone to sleep, but he felt so warm and safe and wanted with Bodie,
and was so eager to show him all the tenderness he felt for him that he'd
never shown before, that he fought against the sleepiness. His shirt had
somehow followed Bodie's jacket to the floor and he could feel Bodie
running lazy circling fingertips over his chest, pausing every now and
then to rub his nose softly against his nipples with a long sigh of
pleasure. Then a hot, wet mouth and tongue replaced the hands, sucking
him, and placing featherlight licks and kisses all over his chest, from
his shoulders to his waist. 

"...knew it'd be this good..." Bodie was whispering, sliding him full
length along the sofa, "Oh, Ray..." 

The warning bell rang again in Doyle's befuddled mind...loudly this time,
even as he felt himself drowning in the sweet, sensual pleasure of Bodie's
gentle tongue and hands, and the soft, teasing brush of his silky hair on
his chest. He knew that, unlike Bodie, he was now much less drunk than
when they'd arrived, and that an awkward, painful erection was already
straining insistently at his pants. He was afraid, not for himself, but
for Bodie...for the effect this uncharacteristic and unexpected lowering
of barriers might have on Bodie. He was such a strange and sensitive
creature, was Bodie, underneath all the devil-may-care smoothness, and he
had to be protected from anything that might hurt him or make him
unhappy...and if he remembered any of this in the morning...well, it'd be
enough to make him withdraw completely...enough to risk the friendship
Doyle held so dear. 

But, oh Christ...I want it so...he thought desperately, as Bodie's tongue
continued to tease him...I've never wanted anything so much in the whole
of my life. Have I always wanted it and not realised it? Why have I never
felt this good with a woman? Because I'm drunk and the inhibitions are
gone? Or because it's so incredible to actually have him like this with
me? So sweet...and tender and loving... 

Being honest with himself, he admitted it couldn't be the drink. He'd had
too much to drink too many times when he'd been out with girls, and found
himself embarrassingly incapable... 

He moaned as Bodie's tongue licked an erotic trail of fire down his body,
following the hair line from his throat to his navel...God, if he'd only
open my pants...stroke me...love me...make me come...Christ, I'll die if
he doesn't...die if he does...doesn't matter either way...God knows what
kind of climax I'd have with him, if he can make me feel like this without
even touching me... 

He was brought back to reality by the realisation that Bodie had stopped
caressing him and was kneeling on the floor by the sofa, looking down at
him, breathing heavily, with an incredulous, bemused expression on his
face. 

"Think you want me, Ray..." Bodie slurred, still drunk, amazement in his
voice, "don't think I believe it..." 

"You'd better, sunshine," Doyle assured him shakily, looking down at
himself, "it's all for you." Bodie's hair was ruffled, his eyes soft and
dark with desire, and his still half-disbelieving expression was so
appealing that Doyle sat up quickly, ignoring the pain at the back of his
head as he did so, and pulled Bodie back onto the sofa, settling them side
by side. He slid his arms round Bodie's waist, sitting close, so their
faces were only inches apart, long fingers tracing each feature with
something akin to wonderment on his face at the expression in Bodie's
eyes, skimming over eyelids and long, silky lashes, down the small, wide
nose and mouth, firm chin and jawline... 

"You're beautiful, you know," he said, kissing him softly. 

"So're you..." Bodie whispered, "...offense to look like you...so cute..."
He paused, frowning, trying to find the right words, "...tough little
street urchin...elf from the wrong side of the tracks..." 

"Very poetic, considerin' you're drunk, mate," Doyle chuckled, but his
face suddenly became serious again as he took in the longing on Bodie's
face, and he slowly came down to earth, making the decision he knew had to
be made. 

"Had a lot to drink," he said, his hand stroking Bodie's ruffled hair back
into place, "you know that, don't you?" 

"Yeah," Bodie slurred happily, "seem to remember a few bottles of wine
somewhere along the way..." 

"Yeah," Doyle agreed, as if talking to a wayward child, "and you may not
realise it yet, sunshine, but you're gonna hate me in the morning." 

"Nah...love you, don't hate you," Bodie protested in a friendly enough
way, snuggling against him again, "only ever loved you, Ray. No one
else..." 

"Oh, Bodie..." Doyle whispered, "why have you never said that to me when
you've been sober...you crazy..." His voice trailed away. He tightened his
hold on Bodie, rocking him in his arms. 

"You gonna sleep now?" he asked softly, after a moment or two. 

"Not gonna kiss me anymore, huh?" Bodie said sleepily. He yawned loudly. 

"No, not tonight," Doyle said, smiling, stroking his hair, "tomorrow, OK?
When we're not drunk anymore...be better then..." 

But Bodie was already asleep, his body suddenly heavy and slack against
Doyle. The sofa wasn't the most satisfactory place to sleep, but Doyle
couldn't have moved now if his life depended on it, and he couldn't bear
the thought of disturbing Bodie. He settled Bodie's head more comfortably
on his shoulder and closed his own eyes... 

He awoke with a splitting head, a furred tongue and a painful crick in his
neck, to find that Bodie hadn't moved, but was still deeply asleep,
snoring against him gently. 

Dead to the world, Doyle thought, as he extricated himself with great
difficulty and Bodie didn't so much as bat an eyelid...be asleep for hours
yet... 

But he was wrong. Half an hour later, after he'd showered and dressed,
taken two headache pills, and was in the process of making coffee, Bodie's
bleary-eyed face appeared round the kitchen door, hand holding his
forehead gingerly, grimacing. He looked exactly as he had the previous
night...shirt tails hanging out of his trousers, hair standing on end... 

Even so, he still looked gorgeous to Doyle, and his stomach turned a
painful somersault in a combination of fear, anticipation and shocked
longing. 

"Christ almighty, Ray..." Bodie said huskily, without a trace of
selfconsciousness, "how much did we have to drink last night? Haven't felt
this bad since I was in my teens." 

"Quite a lot," Doyle said, going back to spooning coffee into his cup,
bending his head to hide the embarrassment he couldn't control. 

Bodie picked up the corner of his shirt between finger and thumb and
looked down at it. "Didn't know you went in for rape," he said
conversationally, "either that, or I must have been having a wild fight
with someone in my sleep." 

Doyle's first instinct was to disbelieve him. It was impossible he didn't
remember anything at all. Then he forced himself to look up, schooling his
face to neutrality before he did so, and met Bodie's wide-eyed, completely
innocent, if slightly teasing gaze. 

"Yeah, I had my wicked way with you on the couch," he said as lightly as
he could, "very nice it was, too." 

"Always knew you were a sex maniac," Bodie said offhandedly, yawning.
"Christ, my head. What happened to the girls?" 

"Oh, we left them behind when I decided to have my wicked way with you,"
Doyle said in the same vein, as he sat down at the table with his coffee
cup, an unbearable feeling of loss sweeping over him...a longing for what
might have been, and what might now never be. He was suddenly angry with
himself for not following his instincts and allowing it to happen last
night. God, Bodie had been his for the taking, and he'd wanted him so
much...He swallowed hard. He knew he'd never have another chance...Bodie'd
never be quite like that with him again... 

But he didn't know that, as ever when he was upset, his face reflected
exactly what he was feeling, and that the sadness and longing showed all
too clearly in his eyes. He bent his head, feeling almost like crying,
wanting that tender, loving Bodie back again so much, it was like a hard
physical ache inside. 

He was so preoccupied he nearly missed Bodie's next words. 

"Oh, yeah, I remember now," Bodie was saying softly, a new note of
intimacy in his voice, "that must have been when you asked me how Helen
kissed and I showed you..." 

Doyle kept his head down, colour rising, as much in anger as
embarrassment, even though he could feel the bubble of laughter starting
in his throat. Christ, he should have known with Bodie! He'd been had... 

"You scheming, lying..." he began, shoulders shaking with suppressed
laughter, unable to hide it any longer. 

Bodie grabbed hold of him, swinging him out of the chair, almost lifting
him off his feet, sweeping him into a tight bearhug. He was laughing
helplessly. "Oh, Ray...you should have seen your face," he said between
smothered bursts of laughter, "all sorrowful and hurt..." choking as he
fought for breath. 

"I'll get you for this, Bodie..." Doyle threatened, "just you wait..." The
feel of the solid body against his was almost too much to take. He knew he
was trembling like a leaf, then realised Bodie was trembling too, and
didn't mind so much... 

"That sounds promising," Bodie said invitingly, lips grazing his cheek.
"Do I get a kiss first?" 

"Anything you want, mate, anything at all," Doyle said, eyes filling with
tears as he saw that look of tenderness back in Bodie's eyes. 

"Hey, come on," Bodie said very softly, "stop it, Ray...or I won't let you
have your wicked way with me after all...don't want you crying all over
me." 

Doyle smiled, brushing away the tears. "Just tell me one thing," he said
more warily, sniffing as he collected himself, "did you know what you were
doing last night? Or were you really as drunk as you seemed?" 

Bodie's face was suddenly serious. "No," he said, taking a deep breath, "I
only knew I wanted to be close to you. No scheming, mate. Not last night.
That was honest to God Bodie...for what it's worth." 

"So is this now," Doyle said, amazed, running his hand over Bodie's cheek,
"and in case you're interested, it's worth a lot." He had the satisfaction
of seeing a faint flush tinge Bodie's cheeks. 

"I seem to recall you were saying something about having your wicked way
with me," Bodie prompted, hands running down Doyle's back, cupping the
firm buttocks, drawing him closer. Doyle gasped as Bodie's hardness met
his own. 

"Was I?" he asked, deliberately vague. 

"Is it what you want?" Bodie asked, with uncharacteristic hesitancy. 

"Everything I want, and more." 

"Oh, well, in that case," Bodie said in his sexiest voice, "and as I seem
to have already bared my soul to you in my drunken state, I suppose it's
no good pretending anymore..." kissing him again, "by the way, exactly
what did I say last night?" 

"Ahha, that's be telling..." Doyle said knowingly, sliding out of his
grasp and backing away. 

"Oh, no, you don't," Bodie warned, in pursuit, as Doyle headed in the
direction of the bedroom, "Ray...you're in for it now, sunshine...just
wait till I get my hands on you..." as the bedroom door slammed shut
behind them... 

-- THE END --

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