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byslantedlightWell, I finished just in time for Torchwood, but I've not gone over and over it or anything... and it's complete PWP. Well, although it's supposed to make sense I mean, it does have a beginning and a middle and an end and a... sort of point, but... mostly it's just Pros sex. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
schnuffi who was the first to give me a prompt. And "hot Pros sex" was that prompt...
Stories in the Night
by Slantedlight
"Have you ever paid for it?" Doyle asked, in the same conversational tone as he might ask who'd won the 2.30 at Haydock, or if there were any sandwiches left.
Bodie looked at him. "Paid for what exactly?" he asked, very carefully, trying to keep his eyes turned away from the flimsy naked bodies that surrounded them. It was difficult though, he couldn't quite make out if there were two or three people in that one over there, for example. He squinted at it again, trying to decide if that was actually an extra arm, or if it was...
"Sex."
"Yeah..."
Doyle looked at him sharply.
"... that's what I thought you meant." He turned back to the monitoring equipment, and fiddled with the dials for a moment, but the pictures on the walls still drew him - had drawn him for over two hours now, ever since Stephens had gone home sick, and Cowley had pulled them both in to cover for him. It wasn't even as if there was room in here to swing a cat, why the old man had thought they should both be subjected to this late night torture...
Then again, it was probably his idea of a joke, the very slightest repayment for the many many practical jokes played on him, as unlucky head of CI5. Yeah, stick his two top agents in a room the size of a washing machine, surrounded by pages torn from gay porn magazines, and then ask them to listen in to the ex-Minister and his Russian ex-wife-slash-current-lover at two in the morning - very funny. Cowley'd be waiting outside for them at dawn, no doubt, with some pithy comment he'd been working on all night...
"Well 'ave you?"
"Why in the world would I have to pay for it, Raymundo?" he asked, settling reluctantly back on the bench against the wall - thigh to thigh with Doyle - and failing again not to look at the pictures. That one, for example, made very interesting use of whipped cream, and he didn't blame the bloke at all for wanting that strategically placed cherry, but then whose..?
"I dunno. For a change? Bit of excitement? Act out some fantasies that no respectable..." he paused, just slightly, "... woman would consider an evening's entertainment?"
Bugger, Doyle had seen him looking, then. Bugger, he thought again, swallowing the giggle that rose, unwanted, to his lips, bad choice of word that. Or good one. Now those two blokes over there were definitely trained to do that, or at least well-practiced, because no one could bend far enough to...
Another thought struck him, as Doyle's words sunk further into his subconscious, and he narrowed his eyes, looked at Doyle consideringly. "I've seen you bend like that," he said, tipping his head at the full-page image. He let his lips quirk in a half-smile, a challenge. "Is there something you want to tell me, old son?"
Doyle met his eyes for a moment, considering, then to Bodie's great pleasure, dropped his gaze. "Dunno what you mean," he said, shifting slightly on the seat so that he could stretch his legs out. The room was narrow enough that he pressed his feet flat on the opposite wall, tensing muscles, one after the other: calves, thighs, twisting his hips to the left, to the right, then stretching his back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling. Finally he gave a deep sigh of pleasure, and slid back down on the bench, lifting his groin just slightly upwards to do it, and Bodie's eyes followed the arrowing folds of denim to that place where the blue of the cloth over the zip was that bit deeper, that bit... straighter. Harder.
Bastard.
"Oh, I think you do," he said quietly, letting his voice sound just that bit dangerous as he lifted his gaze back to Doyle's face. "Right tearaway you said, "At home on the streets, were you?"
"Well..." Doyle glanced across at him, dropped his eyes again, but his voice was firm. "What if I was?"
"Better I should know now," he suggested, trying to keep his voice steady, "Than by finding you bent underneath some businessman with a fine line in blackmail... Why don't you tell me that story, mate?"
"That how you see me, then? Nice and submissive?"
"Oh," Bodie felt the blaze in his own eyes then, as he stared hard at Doyle, their faces barely inches apart in the cramped quarters, no other sound but the slight hiss of the equipment, "I think so, don't you?"
Doyle turned his face away again, nodded minutely. Bodie waited impatiently for him to begin, the hard, naked bodies around them nothing more now than vague shapes and shadows beside this living, breathing version next to him. His partner, Ray Doyle, who he knew so well.
"It wasn't something I chose to do," Doyle said finally, his voice low, almost husky with it. He lay his hands on his thighs as he spoke, absently moving his thumbs in small circles against the stretched fabric of his jeans. "They made me, there was no escape." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath that Bodie watched all the way down his chest, to his stomach, and back again.
"I'd go down for a cup of tea sometimes, there'd be someone there, and I'd be told to kneel down to him, while he sat at our kitchen table, to take his cock in my mouth and suck him off. And I... didn't know any better, you know what it's like when you're young - I'd be hard as anything in me jeans, but they wouldn't let me so much as touch myself..." he glanced again at Bodie from under lowered lashes, turned away and licked his lips slowly "...not until I'd finished with them all".
Bodie felt his breath catch - with all of them?
"Was it all just sucking then?" he asked, very aware of the press of Doyle's leg against his own, "That hardly counts, sunshine."
"Oh no, there was more. Sometimes..." Another pause, another moment while the anticipation built in Bodie, wondering what more this Ray would suddenly tell him, whether he could see that Bodie was hard as anything too, so hard already, in his cords, under the pale covering of his leather jacket.
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes they'd make me strip off, kneel there naked in front of them, rub themselves against me, against my face. Wait until I was so hard with the tension of it all that I'd open my mouth to try and taste them, to get something out of it, you know?"
He paused, and Bodie shook his head, ran his eyes from one end of Doyle to the other. "Keep going."
Doyle licked his lips again, seemed to flick a glance at Bodie's own groin, and Bodie couldn't help but press upwards slightly against his own hands. The thought of Doyle's mouth open, just waiting for...
"It was worst when they took me upstairs though, made me walk naked in front of them, knowing they were watching me, reaching out to grab me when they felt like it. And... and whenever they did, I'd move back into it, because I wanted it really, you see."
Oh, Bodie did see. He closed his eyes for a moment, saw again the way Doyle took the stairs at work, two at a time, muscles flexing, the strength in them...
"They'd take me into my own bedroom, and one of 'em'd sit on the bed, with his trousers open, waiting for me to suck him off, and another other one'd put on this pair of gloves, very slowly, so that I could hear the snap of them, like a whip cracking."
"A whip?" Bodie turned to him, frowning.
"Nah, not in this one. He'd just put the gloves on before he slicked his fingers up with KY. Then he'd start rubbing it in to me, my whole arse at first, so that it was all I could think of, that at any minute he'd be sliding his huge cock into me, they all would, one at a time..."
"Stand up!"
"What?" Doyle's head snapped towards the monitoring equipment, and he stood obediently, alert in a moment.
"Take off your trousers. Now."
"What!"
"Just..." It was too much, too slow, the thrum of desire heavy in him. He could picture Doyle so clearly, bent over, all his strength, his power just waiting to be taken, and all he wanted... He pulled at the snap on Doyle's jeans, feeling the swell of Doyle's cock just below, knowing that it was hard, and hot, and that he could yank down that all-covering denim and have his hands just where he wanted them, have Doyle's arse just where he wanted it. "Now!"
"Bodie..."
There! There, bare skin at last, Doyle's jeans stripped to his knees, Bodie pressing his face to Doyle's cock, so that Doyle gasped above him, thrust uncontrollably. He thought of undressing himself, of turning around to the wall of the room so that Doyle could bury himself hard, and far, and deep, inside him, and he wanted it, god he wanted it, but... His hands were still kneading Doyle's arse, that perfect, soft-skinned arse, that would be his now, just for him...
Somewhere above he heard Doyle try to protest one last time, his voice fading to nothing as Bodie took him in his mouth, slid his own lips up and down Doyle's length, as he took him deeper, deeper still. Then abruptly Bodie released him, and looked up at his partner, standing above him. "Get 'em off. No," he changed his mind, "Get it all off. Now."
Without waiting to see whether Doyle was doing what he was told, Bodie undid his own trousers, and slid them down just far enough that his cock was gloriously free, waiting, just waiting...
And there was Doyle, bare in front of him, cock long and thick against the slimness of his hips, and oh, that backside... In a minute. In just a minute.
"Kneel down..."
Doyle knelt.
"... and suck me off."
A breathtaking pause, and then Doyle was there before him, and he licked his lips, and Bodie thought he'd come there and then. Not yet, not yet...
"And Doyle?"
Oh, to have Doyle look up at him like that...
"You'll need to make me very wet, alright?"
Such big eyes you've got...
After the first, glorious-agony slide that impossibly took in all of Bodie's cock, Doyle was quick and efficient about it, until just the moment when he brought himself astride Bodie's lap. He paused every movement then, but one, guiding Bodie's cock in small circles against his arsehole, using it to lubricate himself, Bodie so ready that he knew he wouldn't last long, but it would be worth it, this was all worth it...
And there, those seconds as he was sheathed in Doyle, all the way in Doyle, and reaching for Doyle's cock, pulling on it, just so, tucking it under his shirt at the same time, and feeling everything happen then, all at once it seemed, the most pure, the most intense thing he would ever feel, his Doyle like this, coming in his hand, shocks of it over Bodie's skin, his stomach, his chest, and deep, deep inside Doyle, Bodie's own eternal moment, coming forever and ever and ever...
"Oh, fuck that was good," Bodie breathed when he could, as orgasm ebbed more slowly through his body, as it vanished to the very ends of his toes and his fingers, and through the smile he could feel stretching his face. Oh because he felt heavy, and relaxed, and good. He reached out a lazy hand, drew Doyle's head up by his curls, oh so gently, and kissed him, long and langorous. And Doyle kissed back, as he always did, though he didn't manage more than a rumbling groan in response.
They sat together for minutes more, hearts beating, blood flowing through their veins, breath slow and in time, each with the other.
Somewhere in the distance there was the whirr of a milk float, a clinking of bottles, vague shouts of greeting, until finally they stirred themselves. In an hour or so Cowley would arrive and they could maybe go home, collapse into their own bed, and sleep the sleep of the just-off-night shift. For now it was back to work, back to the real world, and god, it was good.
February, 2008
schnuffi who was the first to give me a prompt. And "hot Pros sex" was that prompt...Stories in the Night
by Slantedlight
"Have you ever paid for it?" Doyle asked, in the same conversational tone as he might ask who'd won the 2.30 at Haydock, or if there were any sandwiches left.
Bodie looked at him. "Paid for what exactly?" he asked, very carefully, trying to keep his eyes turned away from the flimsy naked bodies that surrounded them. It was difficult though, he couldn't quite make out if there were two or three people in that one over there, for example. He squinted at it again, trying to decide if that was actually an extra arm, or if it was...
"Sex."
"Yeah..."
Doyle looked at him sharply.
"... that's what I thought you meant." He turned back to the monitoring equipment, and fiddled with the dials for a moment, but the pictures on the walls still drew him - had drawn him for over two hours now, ever since Stephens had gone home sick, and Cowley had pulled them both in to cover for him. It wasn't even as if there was room in here to swing a cat, why the old man had thought they should both be subjected to this late night torture...
Then again, it was probably his idea of a joke, the very slightest repayment for the many many practical jokes played on him, as unlucky head of CI5. Yeah, stick his two top agents in a room the size of a washing machine, surrounded by pages torn from gay porn magazines, and then ask them to listen in to the ex-Minister and his Russian ex-wife-slash-current-lover at two in the morning - very funny. Cowley'd be waiting outside for them at dawn, no doubt, with some pithy comment he'd been working on all night...
"Well 'ave you?"
"Why in the world would I have to pay for it, Raymundo?" he asked, settling reluctantly back on the bench against the wall - thigh to thigh with Doyle - and failing again not to look at the pictures. That one, for example, made very interesting use of whipped cream, and he didn't blame the bloke at all for wanting that strategically placed cherry, but then whose..?
"I dunno. For a change? Bit of excitement? Act out some fantasies that no respectable..." he paused, just slightly, "... woman would consider an evening's entertainment?"
Bugger, Doyle had seen him looking, then. Bugger, he thought again, swallowing the giggle that rose, unwanted, to his lips, bad choice of word that. Or good one. Now those two blokes over there were definitely trained to do that, or at least well-practiced, because no one could bend far enough to...
Another thought struck him, as Doyle's words sunk further into his subconscious, and he narrowed his eyes, looked at Doyle consideringly. "I've seen you bend like that," he said, tipping his head at the full-page image. He let his lips quirk in a half-smile, a challenge. "Is there something you want to tell me, old son?"
Doyle met his eyes for a moment, considering, then to Bodie's great pleasure, dropped his gaze. "Dunno what you mean," he said, shifting slightly on the seat so that he could stretch his legs out. The room was narrow enough that he pressed his feet flat on the opposite wall, tensing muscles, one after the other: calves, thighs, twisting his hips to the left, to the right, then stretching his back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling. Finally he gave a deep sigh of pleasure, and slid back down on the bench, lifting his groin just slightly upwards to do it, and Bodie's eyes followed the arrowing folds of denim to that place where the blue of the cloth over the zip was that bit deeper, that bit... straighter. Harder.
Bastard.
"Oh, I think you do," he said quietly, letting his voice sound just that bit dangerous as he lifted his gaze back to Doyle's face. "Right tearaway you said, "At home on the streets, were you?"
"Well..." Doyle glanced across at him, dropped his eyes again, but his voice was firm. "What if I was?"
"Better I should know now," he suggested, trying to keep his voice steady, "Than by finding you bent underneath some businessman with a fine line in blackmail... Why don't you tell me that story, mate?"
"That how you see me, then? Nice and submissive?"
"Oh," Bodie felt the blaze in his own eyes then, as he stared hard at Doyle, their faces barely inches apart in the cramped quarters, no other sound but the slight hiss of the equipment, "I think so, don't you?"
Doyle turned his face away again, nodded minutely. Bodie waited impatiently for him to begin, the hard, naked bodies around them nothing more now than vague shapes and shadows beside this living, breathing version next to him. His partner, Ray Doyle, who he knew so well.
"It wasn't something I chose to do," Doyle said finally, his voice low, almost husky with it. He lay his hands on his thighs as he spoke, absently moving his thumbs in small circles against the stretched fabric of his jeans. "They made me, there was no escape." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath that Bodie watched all the way down his chest, to his stomach, and back again.
"I'd go down for a cup of tea sometimes, there'd be someone there, and I'd be told to kneel down to him, while he sat at our kitchen table, to take his cock in my mouth and suck him off. And I... didn't know any better, you know what it's like when you're young - I'd be hard as anything in me jeans, but they wouldn't let me so much as touch myself..." he glanced again at Bodie from under lowered lashes, turned away and licked his lips slowly "...not until I'd finished with them all".
Bodie felt his breath catch - with all of them?
"Was it all just sucking then?" he asked, very aware of the press of Doyle's leg against his own, "That hardly counts, sunshine."
"Oh no, there was more. Sometimes..." Another pause, another moment while the anticipation built in Bodie, wondering what more this Ray would suddenly tell him, whether he could see that Bodie was hard as anything too, so hard already, in his cords, under the pale covering of his leather jacket.
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes they'd make me strip off, kneel there naked in front of them, rub themselves against me, against my face. Wait until I was so hard with the tension of it all that I'd open my mouth to try and taste them, to get something out of it, you know?"
He paused, and Bodie shook his head, ran his eyes from one end of Doyle to the other. "Keep going."
Doyle licked his lips again, seemed to flick a glance at Bodie's own groin, and Bodie couldn't help but press upwards slightly against his own hands. The thought of Doyle's mouth open, just waiting for...
"It was worst when they took me upstairs though, made me walk naked in front of them, knowing they were watching me, reaching out to grab me when they felt like it. And... and whenever they did, I'd move back into it, because I wanted it really, you see."
Oh, Bodie did see. He closed his eyes for a moment, saw again the way Doyle took the stairs at work, two at a time, muscles flexing, the strength in them...
"They'd take me into my own bedroom, and one of 'em'd sit on the bed, with his trousers open, waiting for me to suck him off, and another other one'd put on this pair of gloves, very slowly, so that I could hear the snap of them, like a whip cracking."
"A whip?" Bodie turned to him, frowning.
"Nah, not in this one. He'd just put the gloves on before he slicked his fingers up with KY. Then he'd start rubbing it in to me, my whole arse at first, so that it was all I could think of, that at any minute he'd be sliding his huge cock into me, they all would, one at a time..."
"Stand up!"
"What?" Doyle's head snapped towards the monitoring equipment, and he stood obediently, alert in a moment.
"Take off your trousers. Now."
"What!"
"Just..." It was too much, too slow, the thrum of desire heavy in him. He could picture Doyle so clearly, bent over, all his strength, his power just waiting to be taken, and all he wanted... He pulled at the snap on Doyle's jeans, feeling the swell of Doyle's cock just below, knowing that it was hard, and hot, and that he could yank down that all-covering denim and have his hands just where he wanted them, have Doyle's arse just where he wanted it. "Now!"
"Bodie..."
There! There, bare skin at last, Doyle's jeans stripped to his knees, Bodie pressing his face to Doyle's cock, so that Doyle gasped above him, thrust uncontrollably. He thought of undressing himself, of turning around to the wall of the room so that Doyle could bury himself hard, and far, and deep, inside him, and he wanted it, god he wanted it, but... His hands were still kneading Doyle's arse, that perfect, soft-skinned arse, that would be his now, just for him...
Somewhere above he heard Doyle try to protest one last time, his voice fading to nothing as Bodie took him in his mouth, slid his own lips up and down Doyle's length, as he took him deeper, deeper still. Then abruptly Bodie released him, and looked up at his partner, standing above him. "Get 'em off. No," he changed his mind, "Get it all off. Now."
Without waiting to see whether Doyle was doing what he was told, Bodie undid his own trousers, and slid them down just far enough that his cock was gloriously free, waiting, just waiting...
And there was Doyle, bare in front of him, cock long and thick against the slimness of his hips, and oh, that backside... In a minute. In just a minute.
"Kneel down..."
Doyle knelt.
"... and suck me off."
A breathtaking pause, and then Doyle was there before him, and he licked his lips, and Bodie thought he'd come there and then. Not yet, not yet...
"And Doyle?"
Oh, to have Doyle look up at him like that...
"You'll need to make me very wet, alright?"
Such big eyes you've got...
After the first, glorious-agony slide that impossibly took in all of Bodie's cock, Doyle was quick and efficient about it, until just the moment when he brought himself astride Bodie's lap. He paused every movement then, but one, guiding Bodie's cock in small circles against his arsehole, using it to lubricate himself, Bodie so ready that he knew he wouldn't last long, but it would be worth it, this was all worth it...
And there, those seconds as he was sheathed in Doyle, all the way in Doyle, and reaching for Doyle's cock, pulling on it, just so, tucking it under his shirt at the same time, and feeling everything happen then, all at once it seemed, the most pure, the most intense thing he would ever feel, his Doyle like this, coming in his hand, shocks of it over Bodie's skin, his stomach, his chest, and deep, deep inside Doyle, Bodie's own eternal moment, coming forever and ever and ever...
"Oh, fuck that was good," Bodie breathed when he could, as orgasm ebbed more slowly through his body, as it vanished to the very ends of his toes and his fingers, and through the smile he could feel stretching his face. Oh because he felt heavy, and relaxed, and good. He reached out a lazy hand, drew Doyle's head up by his curls, oh so gently, and kissed him, long and langorous. And Doyle kissed back, as he always did, though he didn't manage more than a rumbling groan in response.
They sat together for minutes more, hearts beating, blood flowing through their veins, breath slow and in time, each with the other.
Somewhere in the distance there was the whirr of a milk float, a clinking of bottles, vague shouts of greeting, until finally they stirred themselves. In an hour or so Cowley would arrive and they could maybe go home, collapse into their own bed, and sleep the sleep of the just-off-night shift. For now it was back to work, back to the real world, and god, it was good.
February, 2008
no subject
Date: Wednesday, 13 February 2008 11:10 pm (UTC)But still, I really enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 07:04 am (UTC)Ahhhh - see, this is why having things betad is good, I may have to fiddle with that a bit! The idea was supposed to be that Bodie did realise what Doyle was telling him - because Doyle was telling him a fantasy to while away the hours, and really Bodie was the one in charge of it, that's why Doyle was the submissive one in it, that's what Bodie wanted... So when Doyle says "That how you see me, then? Nice and submissive?" he's really asking Bodie how he wants the fantasy to go...
Right - shall have a think about that - cheers!
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 05:53 am (UTC)Thank you so much for finishing this. I really enjoyed reading it even though I felt a momentary urge to kick Bodie *G*
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 08:51 am (UTC)Glad you liked it, though, hope you're feeling more cheerful today!
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 07:53 am (UTC)And Doyle kissed back, as he always did
sealed it for me, although I was a little confused by
"Is there something you want to tell me, old son?"
which seemed to imply Bodie didn't know something about Doyle, giving it more a first time feel.
Dunno if that's a help. I liked it a lot - very spicy *g*.
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 08:53 am (UTC)Yeay, the bit that "sealed it" for you was the bit that was supposed to - hurrah!
And the other bit... hmmn, maybe that's the bit I need to play with... it wasn't supposed to be the "big reveal" quite then, but not quite so convincingly first time, either!
And thanks - that was helpful, which is always welcomed! *g*
no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, 14 February 2008 10:35 pm (UTC)And you're welcome. I mean, it is such dreadful work to write about our lads together, and you know I only do it cos you make me... *g*
Also - heeeee! The expression on Bodie's face in your icon!!
no subject
Date: Saturday, 16 February 2008 01:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, 23 May 2008 06:39 pm (UTC)