The Professionals Circuit Archive - Lucky Charms	 Lucky Charms

 

by Shorts

  
 The bullet whined overhead, causing Bodie to duck as small fragments from
the wall scattered like missiles above him. Trying to see over the metal
drums that protected him, he popped back up and was rewarded with another
bullet speeding just to his left.

"Will you keep your bloody head down?!" shouted Doyle, manoeuvring to get
a clear shot at their opponent. He had noticed his thick headed partner
sticking his head up, giving the gunman his second opportunity to
permanently part his hair. It didn't make any difference the man was a
lousy shot, there was no reason to make it easier on the gunman.

Bodie snorted. It figured, he had been worried whether Doyle had found any
semblance of cover and in turn he yells at him. Let the little bugger take
care of this on his own then. With just a tad of childish thought, Bodie
settled back on his heels and waited.

Soon the sound of exchanging gunfire told Bodie Doyle had finally found a
position to get a clear aim.

"He's down!" yelled Doyle, scrambling down from a stack of crates.

"Oh? You sure?" called Bodie, still hunched down behind the drums.
"Wouldn't want to mistakenly stand up and get shot."

"I'm the only one standing, you berk," Doyle huffed in exasperation.

"And?"

"And get your bloody arse out here!"

"Well make up your mind," muttered Bodie, gaining his feet and walking
toward his partner.

Doyle spared Bodie a look, before turning his attention to the gunman
lying on the ground. "Now then, why don't you tell us why you decided to
use us as target practice." He gripped the wounded man by the front of his
jacket and hauled him to his feet, not caring at all about the shoulder
wound the man was clutching.

"Ow! Was jus' protectin' meself," groaned the man.

"That's rich." Bodie snorted as he helped Doyle propel the man to walk.
"Who are you and who are you working for?"

"I'm not sayin' anything," mumbled the man, stumbling as both Bodie and
Doyle roughly pushed him ahead of them.

"Do you have any idea who we are?" countered Doyle, still feeling the
surge of adrenaline coursing through him from the brief shoot out.

"Trespassers," said the man, swallowing audibly.

"CI5," announced Bodie, as they exited the building into the bright
sunlight.

The man paled and stared wide eyed at them. "Yer jokin'."

"'Fraid not," said Doyle, as he propelled the man toward their car.

"'ow do I know yer tellin' the truth?" asked the man, his eyes narrowing.

Together, Bodie and Doyle withdrew their ID.'s and flipped them open.

"Oh, bloody 'ell," sighed the man, sinking to the ground and leaning his
back on their car. "I thought you two were thugs sent by that crooked
bastard Watterson, or as 'ow I prefer to call him, Lyin' Lyle."

"Lyle Watterson?" questioned Bodie, as Doyle leaned through the open car
window to radio in. Cowley has been after that man for months now and it
looked like they just might have a shot at getting him.

The man nodded.

"What connections do you have with a bottom feeder like that?" Bodie
exchanged looks with Doyle, who arched an eyebrow before he responded to
headquarters inquiry.

"'e's tryin' to run me out of business," explained the man.

"And you are...?" pressed Bodie, suppressing the urge to throttle the man.
He wasn't in the mood to play twenty questions with him, especially after
the man tried to put holes in them.

"Harry Smithers. I own this warehouse you two busted into," glared
Smithers. "I need a doctor." He clutched his shoulder and groaned.

"It's just a scratch," said Doyle, having finished calling in and
squatting down beside Smithers. He none too gently forced the man's hand
away and took a good look at the wound. "You'll live."

"It 'urts like 'ell," gritted out Smithers.

"Be glad it was my partner who only winged you," said Bodie, his meaning
quite clear. If it had been him, they wouldn't be having this
conversation.

"Now why don't you explain why you thought we were sent by Watterson and
why you tried to kill us," glared Doyle, his green eyes glittering.

Just when Bodie and Doyle had decided the man wasn't going to speak, he
sighed. "I borrowed some money from him when my business got into
financial trouble."

Bodie shook his head and made a face. "Bad business decision."

"Don't I know it...now," sighed Smithers, leaning his head back against
the car. "Got through the rough period and went to pay Watterson off, but
he said it wasn't the money he wanted."

"What was it he wanted?" asked Doyle.

"My warehouse to move merchandise, the ill-gotten kind." Smithers bit his
lower lip in an attempt to stop it quivering. "I'm not into that kind of
business. I run an honest place."

Bodie and Doyle exchanged a look.

"What's gonna 'appen to me?" asked Smithers as the sound of sirens neared.

"I don't know," shrugged Bodie. "You took shots at us. Could be facing
some hard time."

Smithers paled. "Then Watterson wins and I get to rot."

"Wins?" repeated Doyle.

"He'll go ahead with his schedule to use me place, while I pay for
it...again," groaned Smithers.

Doyle motioned for Bodie to step to the side and leaned forward, keeping
his voice low. "He was a pretty lousy shot."

Bodie arched an eyebrow.

"Could trade his knowledge for Watterson," continued Doyle.

"You mean strike a deal?" questioned Bodie, although he had been thinking
along the same track.

"Why not? Who would you rather have? Him or Watterson?" Doyle looked over
his shoulder at Smithers, who was gallantly trying not to cry and losing.

"No contest," snorted Bodie.

"Alright, then," grinned Doyle, then turned back to Smithers.

"'S'not fair," moaned Smithers, curling forward and clutching his
shoulder.

"Listen up," said Doyle, kneeling in front of him. "You might just be able
to get yourself out of this if you're willing to cooperate."

Smithers looked up with hopeful eyes. "Anything."

"Give us what you know about Watterson, and we'll see what we can do about
the attempted murder of government agents charges," said Doyle.

A strangled cough escaped Smithers. "But I didn't know you were government
agents!"

"Attempted murder, is still attempted murder," said Bodie, kneeling beside
his partner and adding his own presence to intimidate Smithers, not that
the man needed any more persuasion.

"What do you know about Watterson's agenda?" pressed Doyle.

Smithers licked his lips, looking back and forth between the two men who
exuded menace. "What guarantee do I have that I won't be sent up?"

"Our word on it," growled Bodie, narrowing his eyes.

"But you best hurry, they'll be here soon and then we won't be able to set
things straight between us," said Doyle, the distant sirens getting louder
as they sped toward them.

"'e has a shipment scheduled to arrive tonight," said Smithers, caught in
the twin steely gazes directed at him. "'S'why I thought you two were sent
by 'im, e's desperate."

"Think you can arrange it?" asked Bodie.

Smithers swallowed and nodded.

"Good." Doyle stood and strode over to meet with the numerous vehicles
arriving.

"Try anything stupid and Watterson will be the least of your problems,"
said Bodie, standing to greet the police.

******

Cowley agreed on the assessment to go after Watterson in lieu of taking
Smithers down, making arrangements to have the warehouse thoroughly
covered.

Bodie and Doyle were hunched behind a stack of crates inside the
warehouse, waiting for the arrival of their pigeon.

"How much longer do we 'ave to wait?" grumbled Bodie, shifting and trying
to find a more comfortable position.

"Could think of more interesting things to do instead of hiding out here,"
said Doyle, checking his gun for the tenth time.

Bodie grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "I like the way you think, mate.
No reason we couldn't pass the time engaging in some pleasant way.
Wouldn't take long, would it?"

Doyle snorted, "Not on the job, Bodie. Wouldn't do to be caught with our
knickers down around our knees, now would it?"

"Ah, but we might not have a chance later, depending on how things go,"
said Bodie, easing closer to Doyle.

"Just be sure to keep your head down when the bullets start flyin' and you
should be fine," said Doyle, swatting at Bodie's hand that had found its
way to his backside.

"I could put my head down now," said Bodie, his voice low and husky as he
slid his hand toward the zipper of Doyle's jeans. In truth, he had no real
intentions of following through, but it was fun to tease Doyle to pass the
time.

Doyle swallowed and shifted away from Bodie's teasing fingers. "Keep your
mind on the job. I swear, you have a one track mind."

"When it comes to you, my son, of course." Bodie grinned, but didn't
pursue his teasing.

"When we get home...," started Doyle, but the sound of the warehouse doors
opening had both their attentions.

Voices drifted toward them, followed by the rumble of a lorry. The
darkness vanished as lights were turned on, causing Bodie and Doyle to
blink from the sudden glare.

"How many?" whispered Doyle.

Carefully, Bodie edged around the stack of crates, straining to see the
men. Easing back, he blew out a breath of air. "Ten."

Doyle shook his head. "How many do you figure are still outside?" Cowley
and a number of other agents were strategically placed around the
building, but it would be up to them to get the drop on those inside.

They had figured most of the activity would take place outside the
warehouse, collecting the shipment and transporting it to the building. It
now appeared Bodie and Doyle would be dealing with more than just the few
who would try to use the warehouse as cover from the confrontation
outside.

"Dunno," shrugged Bodie. "At least this mob will think they're safe in
here, while the shooting is going on outside. Jus' wish Cowley wouldn't
have decided to have only us in here."

"Can't be helped now," said Doyle, adjusting his weight on his toes as he
crouched down. "How do you want to do this? Try to bluff them into giving
up once Cowley and the lot take care of those outside, or just take out as
many as we can and hope for reinforcements to arrive in time?"

"How about both?" suggested Bodie.

At that moment, the sound of gunfire erupted, scattering the men inside
the warehouse as they ducked behind the sporadic cover of boxes and
crates.

Bodie moved to the right, while Doyle moved to the left, hoping to catch
the bad guys between them. Quickly they took up positions across the
warehouse from each other as the gunshots started to dwindle outside.

Doyle spotted Watterson hiding beside the lorry, his attention on the
front of the warehouse. "It's over!" shouted Doyle. "Might as well give up
while you're still breathing!"

The men spun toward Doyle's direction, panic at being cornered rising
another notch. A hail of bullets was all the answer Doyle got and he
curled up on the floor.

Bodie fired, hitting four men before the others realized the gunfire was
coming from behind them and inside the warehouse. He ducked back down as
their attention turned toward him and it was his turn to curl up on the
floor.

Doyle took the opportunity to peek around the bullet ridden crate and saw
Watterson climb inside the lorry, obviously planning to crash his way out.
He took a shot and hit the front tire, but it didn't deter Watterson from
grinding the lorry into gear and flooring it toward the warehouse doors.
With his attention on disabling the lorry, three of the remaining men
closed in on his position, while the other two continued to fire in
Bodie's direction.

Bodie spotted the men moving to surround Doyle. He dove over the crate
that had been giving him cover, somersaulting smoothly into a kneeling
position, and shooting the two men aiming for him. Glancing toward Doyle,
he caught sight of one of the three men who had climbed a stack of boxes,
rewarding them with a clean shot at his partner, yet protectin them from
Bodie. "Hey!" Bodie stood and started to run in their direction.

The shout startled the gunman and he looked back just as Doyle saw him and
fired. Bodie dropped and rolled as another man took aim, barely missing
him. He bumped against one of the earlier gunmen laid out on the floor,
discovering there was no cover nearby. Protecting his face in the crook of
his arm, he tried to lie as flat and as still as possible, hoping Doyle
could get them before they got him.

Doyle saw Bodie drop just as the man fired and didn't know if his partner
had been hit or not. Fear surged through him and he darted out of his
hiding spot, firing at the last two men, felling them both. He sprinted
toward Bodie, skidding as he dropped to his knees. "Bodie!"

"No need to yell," said Bodie, lifting his head and looking around.

"You bastard!" hissed Doyle. "Thought you had gotten hit."

"Was a close thing," admitted Bodie, climbing to his feet and brushing at
the dirt and dust on his coat.

Doyle scowled and quickly rose to his feet, turning toward the front of
the warehouse and seeing Cowley walking toward them.

Cowley looked around before directing his attention toward his two agents.
"Didn't think to leave anyone alive for questioning?"

"Uh, wasn't really an option, Sir," said Bodie.

Cowley released a sigh and pinned his two men with a steely glare. "It
seems to be the case more often than not with you two."

"Yes, Sir," said Bodie and Doyle in unison.

******

"Wanna stop for a pint?" asked Bodie, as they climbed into Doyle's car.
They had finally finished with Cowley and were heading home from
headquarters. He had noticed Doyle had been exceptionally quiet since the
shootout, but had chalked it up to simply wanting to finish the paperwork
so they could get done. He waited a couple heartbeats and when Doyle
didn't answer him he asked, "What's with the silent treatment? You've been
giving me the cold shoulder all night."

"I know you're thick headed, but you don't have to go around trying to
prove it," said Doyle, steering the car out of the car park.

Bodie raised his eyebrows and looked at him. "Where did that come from?"

Doyle pressed his lips tightly together, refusing to look directly at
Bodie. "You really don't know, do you?"

Bodie shook his head in bewilderment.

"Think about it," ground out Doyle, shooting Bodie a withering look.

Taken aback, Bodie leaned away, against the passenger door. He kept quiet,
wondering what could have set Doyle off.

The remainder of the drive was done in silence, with Bodie subtly studying
his partner out of the corner of his eye. They pulled up in front of
Doyle's building and climbed the stairs to his flat, Doyle taking the
steps two at a time and leaving Bodie to follow.

Once inside, Doyle shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on a nearby
chair, roughly unsnapping his holster. He moved toward the bar and poured
a large whiskey, downing almost half of it.

Bodie watched from the doorway, still in the dark as to what had Doyle so
prickly. This wasn't how he had envisioned their night together once they
were alone. He continued to stand near the front door, seriously debating
whether or not to head on home to his own place. When Doyle continued to
face away from him, with no acknowledgement that Bodie was even in the
room with him, Bodie made up his mind.

"I guess I best be goin', seeing how you're in no mood for company," said
Bodie, a sharp pain of hurt stabbing him through his heart. He had closed
the short distance to the door and had it partway open when Doyle's voice
stopped him.

"Don't you dare walk out of here, Bodie." Doyle still had his back turned,
but his voice held the conviction of a man who would not be disobeyed.

"Not sure there's any reason for me to stay," countered Bodie, opening the
door wider. Just as he cleared the doorway he found himself spun around,
facing flashing green eyes that held an emotion that he couldn't recall
seeing reflected in them before.

"You're such a berk," hissed Doyle, gripping Bodie by the upper arm and
literally dragging him back inside. "You really have no fuckin' idea what
you did today, do you? And you did it twice, for chrissakes!"

Bodie clamped down hard on the anger that flashed through him as he was
manhandled by his partner. He allowed himself to be pulled inside and the
door once again shut and locked, determined to find out what the hell had
gotten up Doyle's ruddy backside. "So why don't you enlighten me?"

The sarcastic snap of Bodie's tone did little to calm Doyle down. "You
almost got more enlightenment than you expected today." He roughly
released his grip and turned his back once again on Bodie, stalking across
the room.

An expression of confusion flickered across Bodie's face, then vanished,
to be replaced by a guarded, wary look. Doyle could be unpredictable in
this state. They were both still feeling the tingle that always followed a
shootout until they found release one way or another, be it through
liquor, sparring, or sex, although sometimes the last two went hand in
hand.

Giving up on Bodie figuring out what had him upset, Doyle sighed and shook
his head. He went back to the bar and poured himself another drink and one
for Bodie, bringing the glasses back to the settee and sitting down.

Bodie waited until Doyle had settled himself, before joining him. He
carefully sat down, studying Doyle closely. "Ray?"

Doyle dropped his head forward, staring at the floor between his feet.
"You can't keep doing this," he said, more to himself than to Bodie.

"Doing what?" Bodie stared intently at Doyle, waiting.

"You can't keep taking chances like you did today." Doyle turned his head
and looked at Bodie, hoping to convey just how serious he was about this.

Bodie was about to ask again what Doyle was talking about, then stopped,
clarity hitting him like sunshine breaking through a cloudy day. "I didn't
do anything you wouldn't have done had our roles been reversed."

Doyle sucked in his upper lip, worrying it with his teeth. After a moment,
he let out a sigh and leaned back on the settee. "I know."

"The job hasn't changed, Ray," said Bodie, placing a hand on Doyle's knee
and giving it a small squeeze.

"No," agreed Doyle. "But we have."

"Are you saying you regret the change in our relationship?" Bodie held his
breath. If Doyle said he wanted things to go back to the way they had
been, he'd agree verbally, but in his heart, he knew he could never do so.

"Hell no!" Doyle abruptly sat up, turning to face Bodie straight on. "I
don't want to lose what we have, but neither am I ready to give up the
job."

"We've always known what we do has risks, Ray," said Bodie, unsure how to
ease Doyle's fears, when he himself had the very same fears.

"I know." Doyle leaned closer to Bodie, resting his head on his shoulder
and leaning his weight back into his protective embrace. "But you don't
have to go making it more dangerous than it already is."

"Couldn't help it," said Bodie, resting his mouth against the soft curls
of Doyle's hair. "Was worried about you."

"We were lucky today," sighed Doyle, tilting his head a bit to the side,
inviting Bodie to kiss him along his neck.

"We made our own luck, just like always," said Bodie, gently nipped the
crook of Doyle's neck. "You didn't catch a bullet today, because I created
the luck for you. And I didn't catch one, because you in turn created it
for me. We're each other's lucky charm, mate. There's nothing and no one
that can touch us as long as we stick together. We're magical together.
It's when we're apart we seem to get into a pickle."

Doyle shifted and pressed Bodie back, kissing him hard until they were
both breathless. "I feel like making some magical luck right now."

Bodie grinned and darted in for a quick peck before gently pushing Doyle
off.

"Playin' hard to get?" chuckled Doyle, unsure of Bodie's intentions.

"Can't play hard to get, considerin' you've already got me," smiled Bodie.
"Just don't fancy the couch, especially when there's a perfectly good bed
in the other room."

"Oh, getting rather prim and proper on me now. Seem to remember a time
when just making it to the couch was a luxury. We usually ended up on the
floor," teased Doyle, but he scrambled to his feet and tugged Bodie up,
eager to get to the bedroom. "Going to be a gentleman and escort me to the
bedchamber, too?"

"On the contrary, I simply want to enjoy you to the fullest and be
comfortable while doing so," answered Bodie, who suddenly stooped and
lifted Doyle over his shoulder. A surprised grunt was his reward as he
walked toward the bedroom, carrying his prize.

"Need lessons in romance, you do," laughed Doyle, hearing a strained grunt
escape from Bodie just before he was unceremoniously dumped on the bed.
The room was dark except for whatever light drifted in from the living
room.

"Been sneaking sweets when I haven't been looking?" Bodie rubbed the small
of his back, a twinge from the diving and rolling on the hard cement
earlier making itself known.

"Not likely, not with you and that sweet tooth of yours," said Doyle,
snagging a pillow and swatting at Bodie.

Ducking, Bodie caught it and practically landed on top of Doyle. He
searched the bright green eyes staring back at him, neither wanting to
break the spell that suddenly surrounded them.

"We are lucky, aren't we?" whispered Doyle, lost in the deep sea of blue
that gazed back at him.

"More than we have any right to be." Bodie placed a chaste kiss on Doyle's
lips then rolled to the side and sat up. He tugged his shirt up over his
head, tossing it to the floor at the foot of the bed.

Doyle unbuttoned his own shirt as he watched Bodie stand and shimmy out of
his trousers, kicking off his boots in the process. Sometimes they spent
the time and undressed each other, but neither had much patience to do so
very often. Besides, they found it more tantalizing to watch the other
strip.

They met in the centre of the bed, wrapping around each other, jostling
for dominance. Flesh pressed against flesh, hands and mouths frantic to
consume the other.

"Have to have you, Bodie," grunted Doyle, struggling beneath Bodie's
heavier weight. He hooked his leg behind Bodie's knee and pushed against
his shoulder, straining to topple him so he could be on top.

Bodie resisted for a moment, then surrendered, catching the desperate
glint in his partner's eyes. Just how deeply today had affected Doyle hit
him and he allowed himself to be pushed down. He relaxed back, arching his
neck and widened his legs to cradle Doyle.

"Don't make it too easy," whispered Doyle, wanting to feel Bodie struggle
against him, proving his lover was whole and alive in his arms.

Bodie stilled, searching Doyle's face. "Wanting it rough, eh?"

Doyle started to shake his head in denial, then stopped. "Not seriously
rough, just a bit forceful." He hoped Bodie would understand what he
couldn't say out loud. He waited for some sign that Bodie got it and was
rewarded with a blinding smile.

"Gonna try and have your wicked way with me, are you?" smirked Bodie, and
at the same time bucked upward, nearly dislodging Doyle.

Caught by surprise, Doyle nearly found himself pinned underneath his
larger partner. Scrambling for a hold to gain control again, his knee
accidentally connected with Bodie's nether region. The grunt of pain
stilled them both.

"Thought you said not seriously rough," choked out Bodie, dropping his
head on Doyle's chest while fighting the urge to curl up in a ball.

"Was an accident," soothed Doyle, gently rubbing Bodie's back. "How bad is
it?"

"Give me a couple minutes," mumbled Bodie, shifting slightly to the side.
The pain was already receding, but it would take some coaxing to have
little Willie interested in playing again.

"Sorry, Bodie," murmured Doyle, feeling like a total berk. "Didn't mean to
ruin things."

"S'okay, Sunshine," said Bodie, one hand held protectively over himself.
He leaned forward and gently kissed Doyle. "No permanent harm done."

"Seems I'm more apt to hurt you than the bad guys," sighed Doyle.

"Just watch your bony knees and elbows," said Bodie and he pounced,
covering his lover with his larger frame. The last thing he wanted was
Doyle to fall into a remorseful mood.

"Bony?!" Doyle shouted indignantly, then barked out in laughter as Bodie
started to tickle him. He squirmed, grasping at Bodie's quick fingers.

"Think I fancy having you tonight instead," challenged Bodie. Deep down,
he didn't care which of them took the lead, but he wanted to get Doyle
back to where he was before the misdirected knee interrupted things. He
needed to exorcize whatever demons of insecurity that might be lurking
under that mop of curls by proving they were both fine

Green eyes sparked in accepting the challenge and Doyle succeeded in
flipping them, straddling Bodie's hips. "Ah, but me heart is set on taking
you while you beg me for more." He reached down and gently encircled
Bodie's lax cock, mindful of the still tender flesh.

"You'll have to work for it," laughed Bodie, when Doyle teased his side
with his other hand.

"Don't squirm too much, mate, or you'll be paying for it," warned Doyle,
tightening his grip on Bodie's cock. The faint twitch against his palm
revealed to him that Bodie would be fine to continue playing.

Bodie cupped his hands under Doyle's backside, skating the tips of his
fingers over the sensitive opening hidden between the firm mounds of
flesh. Without warning, he pressed the tip of one finger inside, mindful
not to push too much without something to lube the way.

The unexpected intrusion caught Doyle off guard and he jerked upward,
lifting his weight off Bodie and releasing his hold on the still mostly
limp shaft.

Bodie took advantage and bolted up into a sitting position, twisting to
the side as he tried to bring Doyle down on the bed. Instead, he found
himself suddenly face down on the bed with Doyle still straddling him.

"Sneaky, that," chuckled Doyle, stretching over Bodie's back and gripping
him tightly around the neck to hold him still. Using his knees, he forced
Bodie's legs apart and nudged the secret entrance with the tip of his
cock.

Bodie tensed, certain Doyle wouldn't attempt to penetrate him without
easing the way first, but his body still reacted to the possibility of
being forced while dry.

"Snag the lube, mate," panted Doyle, his hips jerking forward, eager to
sink into the tightness before him. "Not sure how long I'll be able to
hold back, want you so bad."

Bodie searched blindly beneath the pillow with his hand, then offered the
requested tube to Doyle. He waited, expecting to feel the gentle probing
of a slick finger, but instead he felt the blunt head of Doyle's cock
pressing against him, rubbing the cool gel that covered the spongy head
over the entrance to his body.

"Just relax," groaned Doyle. "Gonna hurt if you don't. Let me inside,
Bodie."

Bodie tensed, his whole body coiling to break free. He wasn't stretched to
accept Doyle who had him securely pinned down.

"I'll take it slow, I promise," gasped Doyle, obviously struggling to keep
himself from plunging into Bodie. "If it hurts too much, I'll stop, but I
want to try this. To feel you so tight surrounding me...surrendering to
me."

Silence filled the room as Doyle waited, then slowly Bodie consciously
relaxed back down on the bed. "Bend your leg," instructed Doyle, his voice
breaking. To have Bodie trust him enough to do this, screamed volumes that
mere words could never have proven.

Bodie bit his lower lip and buried his face into the soft down of the
pillow. He felt Doyle press forward, the head of his cock pushing
insistently against his muscles that instinctively tried to clamp down. A
flare of pain lanced through him when Doyle forced himself inside, then
stilled.

"Bodie?" grunted Doyle, his body shaking as the tight, spasming channel
rippled around the head of his cock.

Bodie's lungs had locked up and he bit into the pillow. Doyle's cock felt
huge, splitting him wide open. A faint flicker of excitement beneath the
pain prevented him from demanding Doyle to stop.

"Bodie?" repeated Doyle, doubting this was such a good idea. He had wanted
to completely dominate Bodie, but now he had misgivings.

"Do it," ground out Bodie, his voice harsh from the pain, but coloured by
the fact that he was at his lover's mercy.

"No." Doyle started to pull out.

"Don't!" shouted Bodie, the pain flaring as the large, rounded head of
Doyle's cock once again started to force his rebelling muscle ring to
stretch.

Doyle froze, swallowing and his throat clicked against the dryness. The
contracting muscles massaged him, making him harder.

"Keep going," said Bodie, forcing himself to speak. "Just go slow, okay?"
It would hurt more to have Doyle withdraw than to finish entering him,
gradually stretching him along the thick shaft than to be ripped apart by
the larger head pulling out.

"I don't think this is such a good...," started Doyle.

"Gotta finish it, Angelfish," said Bodie, trying to relax again.

"As soon as I soften, I'll slip out," countered Doyle, but with the
clenching and unclenching of Bodie's passage, he doubted it would happen
without reaching release first.

"It's okay," assured Bodie. The pain had started to ebb a bit as he
gradually adjusted to the intrusion and bulk inside him. "Besides, this
will help remind me of my lucky charm."

"What?" asked Doyle, confused.

"You, mate," answered Bodie. "You're my lucky charm, what better reminder
than whenever I sit I will still feel you buried inside me."

"You're such a berk," chuckled Doyle, which caused him to move further
inside.

Bodie hissed, then snickered. "As you've already told me."

Doyle slowly pressed deeper inside, trembling as the sensation of a
velvety vise gripped him. "Fuck you're tight."

Bodie squeezed his eyes shut, the deep ache turning into a burn of
pleasure. The pressure sliding over his prostate made him buck, causing
Doyle to plunge the rest of the way inside. "Wait," gasped Bodie.

Doyle rested his forehead against Bodie's back, the sweet torture of
fighting the urge to thrust in and out hiking his desire.

Tentatively, Bodie shifted to his knees, sliding himself along Doyle's
shaft. It still hurt, but not as badly.

"Bodie?" Doyle's voice cracked and he tightened his arms around Bodie's
torso.

"Move," granted Bodie. "Just take it easy at first." The slow glide of
Doyle's cock stretched him and his muscles relaxed enough to fit the thick
flesh impaling him. A steady surge of pleasure radiated through him as
every inch of Doyle's cock slid over his prostate. He felt himself riding
the overwhelming sensation that his over sensitive nerve endings were
producing. Never had he felt such intense pleasure that swamped him body
and soul.

The strangling grip on his cock eased and Doyle continued to thrust gently
in and out. Holding Bodie tightly with one arm, he ran his hand down the
firm stomach to the half hard cock swaying in time with their movements.
He pumped the slowly hardening flesh, relieved that Bodie was finding some
pleasure in the mind-blowing experience he was having.

Bodie gasped. His backside was highly sensitive to the steady slide of
Doyle's cock fucking him, and to have his tender cock coaxed to full
hardness nearly undid him. He thrust forward into Doyle's fist, then back
onto the hard cock. Quickly, his world narrowed as the most powerful
orgasm he had ever experienced swept over him, his throat searing as a
hoarse scream tore through him.

Whatever control Doyle had snapped when Bodie's passage clenched almost
painfully around him. He bucked hard and furious inside his lover, arching
back as his own climax was ripped from him.

Bodie opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh bedside lamp that was
now on. He attempted to scramble forward when something cold and wet
pressed against his tender entrance. "Shit!"

"Hold still," ordered Doyle, applying gentle pressure against the lightly
bleeding opening. "This was a stupid thing for me to do. You're lucky I
didn't rip you to shreds. What the fuck was I thinking? I *wasn't*, that's
the problem. Some good luck charm, huh?"

"Doyle...," interrupted Bodie.

"Then when you passed out, I seriously thought I had killed you. Stupid, I
know, but I really thought I did." Doyle eased the cool cloth away and
gently separated Bodie's cheeks to inspect the red, angry pucker.

"Doyle," repeated Bodie, twisting himself and leaning on an elbow. "Just
stop."

"I think the bleeding has stopped, should keep the cold compress against
it just to be safe," continued Doyle.

Bodie reached back and snagged Doyle's wrist. "Will you listen to me?"
Startled green eyes met his and he carefully turned onto his side, drawing
Doyle alongside him.

Doyle dropped his gaze to Bodie's chest.

Bodie lifted Doyle's chin with his fingers until his lover once again
looked at him. "I won't lie and say it didn't hurt, 'cause it did. But it
was bloody fantastic, too."

Doyle looked at him with disbelief.

"S' the truth," swore Bodie, hugging Doyle close. "I ache some, but it'll
pass. Was worth it." He didn't want Doyle to start beating himself up over
this.

"You're lucky I'm not taking you to hospital to be checked," came Doyle's
muffled voice.

"Of course I'm lucky, got me lucky charm here with me, don't I?" teased
Bodie.

"One of these days, that luck is going to run out," said Doyle, pulling
back slightly.

"You plannin' on running out on me?" teased Bodie. The dark look that
crossed Doyle's face had him wishing he could take it back.

"You honestly think I'd do that?" asked Doyle, his whole body tensing.

"Course not! Not any more than I would do that to you." Bodie sat up,
immediately regretting the sudden movement.

Doyle's eyes narrowed and he pushed Bodie back down on his stomach. "You
best lay still, mate."

"Then stop fussing and cuddle with me," said Bodie, shifting onto his side
once again.

Carefully, Doyle eased down beside Bodie and wrapped his arms around him.
"Love you, you know that?"

"Yep," answered Bodie. He jumped and snorted when Doyle jabbed him in the
ribs.

"I'm bein' serious," chided Doyle.

"I know." Bodie placed a soft kiss on Doyle's stubbled cheek. "Never
doubted how you felt, but it is nice to hear you say it." He paused a
heartbeat before adding, "I do too, by the way."

"Do too, what?" pressed Doyle. He hated sounding like this, but he
desperately needed to hear the words just as much as Bodie.

"Love you," whispered Bodie, his voice low.

"That's alright, then." Doyle stretched across Bodie and tossed the wet
flannels onto the floor, then turned off the bedside light. He pulled the
covers up and snuggled back into Bodie's embrace.

Who said lucky charms didn't exist? They had proof in each other every
day.

-- THE END -

*Originally published in *A Little B and D*, No Name No City Press, 2003*

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