Midnight again
Posted on behalf of foreverfoxcat again because lj is not being kind to her.
Doyle put down his battered paperback and scowled at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It ticked loudly as the second hand completed another of its endless revolutions, the noise pounding uncomfortably inside his still-aching head. Outside, the headlights from a passing car briefly illuminated the bedroom, casting the whole room with a bright yellow glow . Doyle held his breath and waited, breathing out a frustrated sigh when the car kept on moving down the road.
Not Bodie, then. He frowned and glanced at the clock one more time.
11.57 p.m.
He took a quick sip of water from the glass on the bedside table, flicked off the lamp and lay back down on the bed, pulling the covers tightly around him. Shuffling his body under the duvet, he closed his eyes and tried for the third time that evening to get to sleep. After a while he snaked his hand out from under the covers and fussed with his pillow before grabbing another one from Bodie's side of the bed and shoving it under his head.
Much better. Bodie would just have to do without when he got home.
Doyle blinked into the darkness at Bodie's side of the bed. It was funny, really. He'd slept in this bed hundreds of times - sometimes after an obbo had gone wrong and one of them was injured, or when he was too drunk to drive home, or just when they'd done nothing but fuck all night and on in to the morning - but this was the first time he'd ever been in the bed without Bodie. He stretched out a tentative leg, pulling it back immediately when his bare foot touched cold, crisp sheet on the other side of the mattress.
He shivered and squinted at the illuminated hands of the clock again.
12.11 a.m..
He turned onto his back, tucking the covers under his chin and frowning. Where the fuck was Bodie, anyway? It was too bloody weird, sleeping in Bodie's bed wearing Bodie's pyjamas and reading Bodie's books when Bodie himself wasn't here.
He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. All in all, this had been the worst start to the new year he could possibly imagine. He burrowed deeper under the duvet, trying to be grateful that he had the thick covers all to himself for once. He hoped he was at least giving Eddie Dawes a fucking hard time in interrogation...
* * *
Doyle groaned and batted the cold hand away from his waist, wincing as the bed dipped and shifted under Bodie's extra weight. He blinked an eye open and groaned again when he saw the dim glow of the clock in the darkness. 3.20 fucking a.m!
He turned on to his side and peered into the blackness, his bleary eyes just able to make out the pale contours of Bodie's body in the bed next to him. He licked his lips, cringing slightly when his voice came out as a dry, parched croak. “Go on then - what happened?”
Bodie wriggled around in the bed, pulling part of the duvet away from Doyle and shifting closer so that his body was plastered up against Doyle's. He let out a bone-cracking yawn and inched his hand back around Doyle's waist. “Hmpf. Turns out that Fat Eddie Dawes is an absolute criminal mastermind. You wouldn't think it to look at him, would you? Honestly, I thought the Cow was going to have a fit when he realised he'd been had.”
Doyle pulled Bodie's fingers away from his waist, covered them with both hands and huffed out a stream of warm breath over the icy digits. “If you're going to feel me up, at least wait until your hands don't feel like you've just been fingering Frosty the Snowman.”
Bodie snorted out a laugh. “That's what I love about you, Doyle - you're such a delicate little flower.”
Doyle shoved his elbow against Bodie's ribs, grinning at Bodie's exaggerated oof of response. He placed Bodie's hand carefully back on his stomach, tucking his fingers just under the waistband of his pyjamas. “Go on, then. What happened with Dawes?”
Bodie shuffled closer, arms tightening around Doyle's waist. “Dawes was the one who planned the whole arms shipment. Made a tidy little sum as well, all in an off-shore account. When he got collared, he claimed to be a small-time runner. Offered the Cow all the information he needed to nick the real mastermind.” Bodie shifted again and tucked a leg between Doyle's thighs, pulling their bodies even closer together. “Quite a smart move, when you think about it. Except when Cowley put him in to protective custody, he needed some of his henchmen to bust him out.”
Doyle let out a low hmmmmm. “And the guns?”
“Seized at Dover about an hour ago. Turns out Dawes sings like a canary when he's questioned properly. And when he's got a bloody great hole in his leg, of course. Shame about that, eh?”
Doyle stifled a laugh and turned his head towards the sound of Bodie's voice. “Terrible shame, yeah. Mind you, I can't say I'll lose any sleep about it. That's three times now the little bastard has stopped me from getting my twelve o'cock snog.”
Bodie grunted in response and planted a warm, wet kiss on Doyle's right ear. “Never mind. I'll snog you every night at midnight, if you want.” His hand snaked lower down the inside of Doyle's pyjamas, his words accompanied by another loud, jaw-breaking yawn. “And didn't you say something about a handjob as well?”
Doyle swallowed down the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Every night at midnight? No birds - just Bodie. Every single day. Yeah, that sounded good. In fact, it sounded absolutely fucking wonderful.
He grinned into the darkness, pulling Bodie's hand away from his pyjamas and pressing a warm kiss to his knuckles. “No, it's ok. You get some sleep.” He wrapped Bodie's arms tightly around his waist, his heart pounding in his chest when Bodie planted another wet, sleepy kiss against his neck “We've got all year, after all.”
TRAILER
Title: Midnight Again (3 of 3)
Author: Foxcat
Slash B/D
Archive: Proslib yes, Circuit no
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, this is just for fun.
Doyle put down his battered paperback and scowled at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It ticked loudly as the second hand completed another of its endless revolutions, the noise pounding uncomfortably inside his still-aching head. Outside, the headlights from a passing car briefly illuminated the bedroom, casting the whole room with a bright yellow glow . Doyle held his breath and waited, breathing out a frustrated sigh when the car kept on moving down the road.
Not Bodie, then. He frowned and glanced at the clock one more time.
11.57 p.m.
He took a quick sip of water from the glass on the bedside table, flicked off the lamp and lay back down on the bed, pulling the covers tightly around him. Shuffling his body under the duvet, he closed his eyes and tried for the third time that evening to get to sleep. After a while he snaked his hand out from under the covers and fussed with his pillow before grabbing another one from Bodie's side of the bed and shoving it under his head.
Much better. Bodie would just have to do without when he got home.
Doyle blinked into the darkness at Bodie's side of the bed. It was funny, really. He'd slept in this bed hundreds of times - sometimes after an obbo had gone wrong and one of them was injured, or when he was too drunk to drive home, or just when they'd done nothing but fuck all night and on in to the morning - but this was the first time he'd ever been in the bed without Bodie. He stretched out a tentative leg, pulling it back immediately when his bare foot touched cold, crisp sheet on the other side of the mattress.
He shivered and squinted at the illuminated hands of the clock again.
12.11 a.m..
He turned onto his back, tucking the covers under his chin and frowning. Where the fuck was Bodie, anyway? It was too bloody weird, sleeping in Bodie's bed wearing Bodie's pyjamas and reading Bodie's books when Bodie himself wasn't here.
He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. All in all, this had been the worst start to the new year he could possibly imagine. He burrowed deeper under the duvet, trying to be grateful that he had the thick covers all to himself for once. He hoped he was at least giving Eddie Dawes a fucking hard time in interrogation...
* * *
Doyle groaned and batted the cold hand away from his waist, wincing as the bed dipped and shifted under Bodie's extra weight. He blinked an eye open and groaned again when he saw the dim glow of the clock in the darkness. 3.20 fucking a.m!
He turned on to his side and peered into the blackness, his bleary eyes just able to make out the pale contours of Bodie's body in the bed next to him. He licked his lips, cringing slightly when his voice came out as a dry, parched croak. “Go on then - what happened?”
Bodie wriggled around in the bed, pulling part of the duvet away from Doyle and shifting closer so that his body was plastered up against Doyle's. He let out a bone-cracking yawn and inched his hand back around Doyle's waist. “Hmpf. Turns out that Fat Eddie Dawes is an absolute criminal mastermind. You wouldn't think it to look at him, would you? Honestly, I thought the Cow was going to have a fit when he realised he'd been had.”
Doyle pulled Bodie's fingers away from his waist, covered them with both hands and huffed out a stream of warm breath over the icy digits. “If you're going to feel me up, at least wait until your hands don't feel like you've just been fingering Frosty the Snowman.”
Bodie snorted out a laugh. “That's what I love about you, Doyle - you're such a delicate little flower.”
Doyle shoved his elbow against Bodie's ribs, grinning at Bodie's exaggerated oof of response. He placed Bodie's hand carefully back on his stomach, tucking his fingers just under the waistband of his pyjamas. “Go on, then. What happened with Dawes?”
Bodie shuffled closer, arms tightening around Doyle's waist. “Dawes was the one who planned the whole arms shipment. Made a tidy little sum as well, all in an off-shore account. When he got collared, he claimed to be a small-time runner. Offered the Cow all the information he needed to nick the real mastermind.” Bodie shifted again and tucked a leg between Doyle's thighs, pulling their bodies even closer together. “Quite a smart move, when you think about it. Except when Cowley put him in to protective custody, he needed some of his henchmen to bust him out.”
Doyle let out a low hmmmmm. “And the guns?”
“Seized at Dover about an hour ago. Turns out Dawes sings like a canary when he's questioned properly. And when he's got a bloody great hole in his leg, of course. Shame about that, eh?”
Doyle stifled a laugh and turned his head towards the sound of Bodie's voice. “Terrible shame, yeah. Mind you, I can't say I'll lose any sleep about it. That's three times now the little bastard has stopped me from getting my twelve o'cock snog.”
Bodie grunted in response and planted a warm, wet kiss on Doyle's right ear. “Never mind. I'll snog you every night at midnight, if you want.” His hand snaked lower down the inside of Doyle's pyjamas, his words accompanied by another loud, jaw-breaking yawn. “And didn't you say something about a handjob as well?”
Doyle swallowed down the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Every night at midnight? No birds - just Bodie. Every single day. Yeah, that sounded good. In fact, it sounded absolutely fucking wonderful.
He grinned into the darkness, pulling Bodie's hand away from his pyjamas and pressing a warm kiss to his knuckles. “No, it's ok. You get some sleep.” He wrapped Bodie's arms tightly around his waist, his heart pounding in his chest when Bodie planted another wet, sleepy kiss against his neck “We've got all year, after all.”
TRAILER
Title: Midnight Again (3 of 3)
Author: Foxcat
Slash B/D
Archive: Proslib yes, Circuit no
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, this is just for fun.