Recipient: For
Author's notes: 11 100-word drabbles. These are the prompts I used: first time, mission set in a gay bar or gay club, sex against a wall, anal, wanking, getting turned on in public, Bodie being groped in public and a jealous Doyle comes wading in heavy handed, and definite happy ending. Hope my story pushes at least some of your buttons, probodie… I did my best to hit them! 🙂
One.
Cowley had a decidedly perverse sense of humour sometimes, even if most people would never believe it of the head of CI-5. But Ray Doyle had no doubt that his boss was evil. Point in fact: Ray was currently dressed in a ridiculous suit made of green velvet and an even more ridiculous white shirt with ruffles. Ruffles! That was Bodie's thing, not Ray's. And speaking of his partner – another proof that Cowley was evil was that Bodie had not been condemned to this ridiculous assignment, leaving Ray Doyle all alone in the middle of London's most trendy queer bar.
Two.
The alleged mob boss was nowhere to be seen, and Ray was getting antsier by the minute. It wasn't the men around him, all of them looking for a partner for the night. Or actually, Ray wrily admitted to himself as he felt yet another hand on his velvet-clad bottom, maybe it was the men after all, although not in the way expected of a macho undercover CI-5 agent. Especially his partner would probably have something to say about how at ease Ray was in these surroundings. Not unlike Bodie himself, who chose that moment to walk in the door.
Three.
Ray was not in vain one of Cowley's best men – he instantly processed three facts: One, his partner wore something far more flattering than Ray's green monstrosity. Actually, the black suit he sported had nothing ridiculous about it, Ray admitted with a hard swallow, quickly moving on to observation two: Bodie had the night off, so his appearance had something to do with Ray. This fact was supported by Bodie shouldering his way through the crowd, which led Ray to number three: All those men feeling up his partner were going to be in serious trouble. And not from Bodie.
Four.
Maybe two minutes passed between the moment of Bodie's arrival and the moment that Ray accepted the fact that the only man he wanted touching his partner the way those men on the floor did was himself. Admittedly, there was not much conscious thought in that decision, because Ray was already halfway across the room before realizing that men were parting before him like the Red Sea. Only the look on Bodie's face, a mix of surprise and amusement, stopped him from doing some serious damage to his partner's clingiest admirer.
"Jealous, sunshine?" Bodie's broad smile made Ray blush hotly.
Five.
At this point denial was pretty pointless, yet Ray tried stubbornly to pretend that he'd only barged into the crowd around Bodie in order to save his partner from unwanted attention. However, upon seeing the smug smirk on Bodie's face Ray's embarrassment was quickly replaced by determination to wipe that expression away. After all, the target seemed to have taken the night off, so, almost without thinking, Ray decided to do the same and take his chances.
It seemed to be the night for gut reactions – and Bodie hadn't slugged him yet, so things weren't going half bad so far.
Six.
Ray dragged Bodie into the alley behind the bar, pushing and pulling without paying attention to his partner's amused remarks. He had never pictured himself actually doing something about the late night fantasies he'd harboured pretty much since he laid eyes on Bodie for the first time. Women were fine, and their partnership was the best thing in his life – not something he had wanted to risk over something meaningless like physical release.
Yet here he was, pressing Bodie against a dirty wall, shutting him up with his lips and tongue and a hand sneaking into those lovely black pants.
Seven.
Bodie was bucking beneath him, breath coming in hot, short bursts as Ray wrapped his fingers around the quickly hardening cock, his other hand seeking out the wall for leverage. A breathless laugh broke the tangle of their mouths: "I had no idea you were so… talented, Ray."
"Lots of practice." The darkening look in Bodie's eyes made him laugh and kiss the lips he'd been dreaming of for so long. "Don't worry, I practiced only on myself."
Bodie's teeth glinted in the dark. "Good thing, then – it paid off." The strong hand cupping his hardness made Ray gasp loudly.
Eight.
There was not much more talking after this, only touching and feeling. Ray almost drowned in Bodie's kiss, Bodie's hands, the feel of Bodie's silky skin, almost shining between hastily opened black clothes in the light slanting into the alley from the nearby street.
He dropped to his knees and took Bodie's cock in his mouth without hesitation, the salty taste and the tight grip of Bodie's fingers in his curls causing hot arousal to shoot through him. His left hand, pressing hard against his own crotch, followed the rhythm he set with his right on Bodie, quicker and quicker.
Nine.
"Ray!" The hoarse cry and the rush of liquid against the back of his throat made Ray do something he hadn't since he was a teenager – he came into his ridiculous green velvet pants.
Bodie's laugh filtered through the rush of blood in Ray's ears as he rested his forehead against his partner's sweat-sticky skin. "Ah, sunshine, now that's a poor performance for one with your supposed prowess!"
However, the tenderness in the hands that helped Ray to his feet belied the rough words, as did the deep, sweet kiss they shared, releasing a tension Ray hadn't known he'd felt.
Ten.
Later, in Ray's flat, Bodie took the lead and Ray let him. Kissing already felt natural, and together the partners made their way to his bed, where Bodie caught one of Ray's elbows in the gut as they tried to align limbs and bodies so different from what they were used to. Ray snorted with glee when Bodie cursed loudly, but laughter died on his lips as Bodie covered him with his body and ground down hard.
"Not laughing now, are you?" The voice was low and dangerous, and Ray shivered and opened his legs, their bodies suddenly aligning perfectly.
Eleven.
Cowley had a decidedly perverse sense of humour sometimes. But Ray Doyle was quite sure that his boss had never planned on this: His two best agents waking up wrapped around each other, sore in places they'd never been sore before, but neither of them complaining. On the contrary, waking up with Bodie's hand on his groin made Ray's day before it even started.
The only thing Ray regretted was that he'd have to buy that ridiculous green velvet suit and the shirt, because there was no way in hell he'd explain to Rosie in Storage what those stains were…
