Discovered in the Yuletide Spirit - Day 22 - Stones Throw to Passion
Yeah, we have rain, boo to the spotty internet, yeah, still 22nd in my time zone :)
And happy holidays to all!!
Stones Throw to Passion
by krisser
Ray Doyle dropped the phone back down on its cradle dumbfounded, totally dumbfounded. Bodie just blew off a motorbike ride with him. It was predicted to be the last temperate day of the year, and yet Bodie declined.
Doyle looked down at the phone, hearing Bodie's voice again, "Sorry, mate, have other plans."
Other plans? Doyle paced about the flat, restless, wrestling with his thoughts. Damn, something was off, he just knew it. Bodie usually cried off other obligations to motorbike with him. He had to know what was different this time. Decision made, Doyle located his keys atop the kitchen counter, scooped them up, and grabbed his sunglasses. He locked the door behind him. He had to hurry if he wanted to get to Bodie's in time to follow him.
Doyle pulled in behind a lorry down the street just in time and watched Bodie, alone, get into his motor. Bodie pulled away, headed down the road and turned left. Only then did Doyle pull out and race down the street. He turned in behind another vehicle, well out of sight. Bodie's Capri was not difficult to spot up ahead.
Doyle found it easy to keep Bodie in his sight while remaining out of Bodie's until he entered the roundabout for M25. Doyle had to make one extra pass around before following, hoping all the while that Bodie was still in the dark about being tailed and that he hadn't already turned off a side road.
Fear evaporated as soon as he spotted his mate ahead in the far right lane. Could be he was in for a longer ride than anticipated. Doyle remained focused on Bodie's motor and didn't allow his thoughts to wander in search of an answer as to why he was careening out of London just to see what Bodie was up to. He figured it was most likely a bird but he didn't want to dwell on that.
Fiftyish minutes later they passed Bromley, Bodie still travelling in the right lane, his head never moving as though trying to assess the road for lane changes. Doyle wiggled in his seat and settled in for more driving. After they passed Orpington, Bodie switched to the A21, which led them through Kent. Doyle had no guesses to hazard at this time. Curiosity was his motive now. What in the hell could Bodie be doing out here?
Another twenty minutes passed and finally an answer might be looming, as Bodie turned down the road for Sevenoaks Weald. Hell's bells, the only reason to go to Sevenoaks Weald was for McGuffy's and curling. Curling? Bodie curled? The sod had never mentioned it, otherwise Doyle might have shared that he had curled for the Met his first year. Undercover and an erratic schedule put him right off the team.
Bodie curled? Maybe a bird worked here. Doyle pulled over in a lay-by and waited for Bodie to make the turn into the McGuffy's carpark. He watched as Bodie pulled a bag from the boot, one that must have already been inside for Bodie had not left his flat with one. Doyle watched the door close behind his mate before he, too, turned into the carpark.
Doyle exited his motor, locked the door, and then leaned against it. A curling rink? Bodie might have a bird playing here. He found himself oddly disappointed in that, Bodie ditching him and sneaking off to a bird. He walked to the same door that Bodie had entered and pushed it open. He headed to the grandstand, surprised to see it so devoid of spectators. He was even more surprised to see that it was a men's league of curlers.
Doyle searched the ice as he walked along, then stopped suddenly, frozen in place. Stunned. No other word for what he was seeing. Bodie stretched out completely in the full lunge position as he moved flawlessly across the ice. Bodie released the stone just before it crossed the hog line and Doyle's mouth went dry. He knew Bodie was limber, but never had guessed just how limber he was. Doyle reminded himself to breathe, as he remained focussed on Bodie.
His partner stayed down in the lunge position until the sweepers took position then he drew his right leg up to complete the crouch. His eyes remained on the stone until it stopped in a perfect guard position on the left side. Then, with that uncanny ability to know just where his partner was, Bodie turned and looked up in the stands and located Doyle unerringly.
Doyle weakly waved with trepidation.
Bodie beamed a most delighted smile and nodded once before he resumed his playing duties. Doyle felt warmed to the core.
He wasn't sure how to explain his presence here, but it seemed he had some time to come up with an answer. He sat down and found Bodie on the ice once more.
Doyle recognised the focus and the exasperated body language that Bodie presented, but not a smidgen of it appeared on his face or in his voice as he tapped the ice for the stone placement. Doyle bet that move was a ritual for Bodie, tapping the ice before a throw. Leave it to Bodie to play a sport where one would never knowingly break a rule or disrespect the game.
Doyle thought he was prepared for the lunge move this time, it seemed he was wrong. His breathing paused and his mouth went dry again. What was wrong with him? Maybe the shock of seeing Bodie so uninhibited in simple sport was surprising knowing what he did for a living. That was as good as any reason right now.
Bodie yelled hard, hard and Doyle watched the sweepers scrub the ice for all they were worth, helping Bodie's stone curl in behind his first stone. His teammates cheered and high-fived him, but Bodie took a quick moment to throw a thumbs-up to him. Doyle felt warmed again. Bodie returned to his curling duties. He was a sweeper now.
Doyle was quite happy that he was virtually the only person sitting in the stands. He could openly appreciate what he was watching without having to school expressions that could very well give away what he was thinking. Doyle took pause, just what was he worried about showing?
That Bodie was an excellent figure in black against the white ice was self-evident. That it took his breath away was not. As Bodie did another round of sweeping, Doyle wished he had a pair of binoculars to view more closely the perfect bum facing him. Doyle knew without any doubt that Bodie wasn't displaying on purpose. The man was without guile that way.
Bodie coasted along the ice effortlessly on his slider, pushing off with the gripper occasionally to get to the other side of the sheet. The skip put his arm about Bodie's shoulder and leaned in while rubbing his arm. The skip wore a huge smile on his face. Doyle sat straight up and leaned forward with a frown. How dare that bloke take such blatant liberties. That Bodie didn't shake the arm off was just as irritating. Doyle sat back and slouched down when Bodie finally stepped away from the contact.
It was after the fifth end that Bodie looked up into the stands, seeming to seek him out. Doyle shifted up in his seat so he would be viewable and waved. He tried to assure Bodie that he would stay to the end. Oddly enough, Doyle knew that was a truth and possibly it was time to admit it to himself.
There was no one else quite like Bodie. While that might have been obvious to all others, it was even more so to Doyle. He knew that Bodie was unparalleled. No one had his back like Bodie, and he trusted no one above Bodie. That was paramount in their work, but Doyle knew it was more than that, the belief in that trust had seeped into his personal life as well.
He was his best mate, after all, but that persistent inner voice told him he was obfuscating. About what exactly? he demanded of his thought process and it seemed to mock him.
What was he expecting from Bodie? Or better yet, what did he want from Bodie. A lot more popped into his head, and with that he wondered if he was brave enough to continue. But truly at this point there was no going back. So, what did he want from Bodie. Honestly, he wanted Bodie as a partner on the job and off. Wanted Bodie in his bed? His body was already on board, if the shot of lust that went straight to his cock was to be believed.
Bodie was sweeping again. Bent over, leaning on the broom as they scrubbed the ice, Bodie's bum was displayed in all its perfection.
Doyle wiggled in his seat again, this time to adjust himself. He was half hard just thinking about Bodie's bum. He followed that thought in his imagination to where he ran his finger along that seam, let his hands cup that bum, and grew harder still. Doyle took in a slightly ragged breath. He needed to check his responses so he looked at the other players as each one lunged and watched them sweep, but nothing. Just Bodie had that effect on him.
Bodie looked up his way again before his next turn and Doyle was ever grateful that Bodie couldn't see the condition he was in. He watched Bodie lunge again and accepted his full state of arousal.
Bodie's bod made him hard.
Yet, Doyle knew it was much more than the way Bodie looked and moved. His racing heart, he felt the frisson of desire just watching Bodie bend and move was a strong indication., but it was Bodie himself, the complete package. It set him apart from all others, and was what he wanted in his life, and where his heart lay.
Doyle's world fell into place.
He was in love with Bodie.
Now all he had to do was ascertain where Bodie stood in all this.
The men on the ice were congratulating each other; it was time for explanations. Doyle stood and started to make his way down.
"I won't miss the Campari round," Bodie called after his teammates. He sighed and turned around to face the approaching Doyle, resigned. "Cow has a job for us," he stated as Doyle drew into hearing distance.
"No," Doyle answered steadfastly.
Bodie looked taken aback. "I thought HQ told you where I was." Bodie left the sentence hanging.
"Nope. Followed you," Doyle stated with satisfaction.
"You didn't?" Bodie's curiosity was piqued.
"Yeah and you never even noticed me." The pride in his voice and stance was hard to miss.
Bodie cocked his head. "No job, then why did you come?"
"You blew off motorbiking and I was curious as to why." Doyle was surprised how calm he was. "I curled for the Met until my hours got in the way." Doyle made for the stones, lined up and ready for the next group.
Doyle left a dumbfounded Bodie in his wake, then turned back to look at him. "Okay for me to try?"
Perplexed but curious, Bodie nodded.
Doyle picked up a stone with his right hand and moved it up and down, weighing the feel of it. "Don't have the right shoes but I think I can manage."
Bodie moved off the starting area and positioned himself behind Doyle.
Doyle lunged as he remembered, a skill not forgotten. He watched it cross the hog line then immediately cranked his head to see Bodie behind him. Just what he was hoping, Bodie's eyes were glued to his bum, and his throat moved convulsively. Doyle was sure of his direction now.
Bodie waited as Doyle threw a couple more stones. Appreciation for what he was viewing was easy to read on his face. Whether it was for throwing prowess or other assets, Doyle was unsure. Doyle made his way back to Bodie.
"Ray, why are you here?" Bodie asked after they finished lining up the stones for their next use.
"I told you, I followed you," Doyle answered doggedly.
Bodie shook his head. "There has to be a reason you followed me," he stated patiently.
"You blew me off."
"Yes, you said that already."
Doyle fidgeted a bit in place. "Well, it got me to thinking. You usually blow off your other dates and since this time you didn't, I got worried that I may have some real competition."
Bodie remained still, a puzzled expression adorned his face. "Competition?"
"Yes, well I realised I didn't want to be in competition with anyone at all. I didn't want to go riding alone this morning. I didn't want a bird to join me. I realised that birds don't hold any allure for me anymore, not the way you do."
Bodie's stance relaxed and his face softened. "Ray, do you understand what you're saying?"
"Yeah. I've been hard since I watched you sweep."
Bodie stepped up close and pulled Ray into his arms. "I noticed," he whispered into Ray's ear just before he kissed him.
Doyle noted with great satisfaction that Bodie was in the same state of hardness. Then he gave himself up to the kiss. When Bodie pulled slightly away he was breathing as heavily as Doyle.
"Let's get off the ice and into the locker room. I won't last until we get home."
A frisson of thrill ran through Doyle at the implication, and if it were possible to get harder than he already was, he did.
The locker room was silent and Bodie pushed Doyle up against the wall of the shower alcove. He pressed his body close. Doyle pushed his right leg in between Bodie's and arched into the answering hardness. He loved the feel of Bodie pressing him close. The wall was perfect behind him, allowing him the purchase to push into Bodie as well. Their cocks seem to align perfectly, and Doyle pressed even harder. Bodie's lips moved into devour his and Doyle answered the passion with his own. Like two schoolboys on a first try, both came quickly in a rush of sensation of awe.
When the sensations subsided, Bodie whispered against Doyle's hair, "So much better than my dreams of late."
Doyle sighed, "I didn't twig until today. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I only ever thought it could be a dream."
Doyle smiled as he ran his fingertips softly down Bodie's face, to cup his chin and kiss him again.
"Say, don't you still have to join your curling mates for that celebratory drink?" Doyle offered up, yet didn't move.
"No, I have a better celebration here." Bodie moved in closer for another kiss.
Doyle couldn't help but agree.
fin
Many thanks to my beta
That particular curling arena is fictitious.
And happy holidays to all!!
Stones Throw to Passion
by krisser
Ray Doyle dropped the phone back down on its cradle dumbfounded, totally dumbfounded. Bodie just blew off a motorbike ride with him. It was predicted to be the last temperate day of the year, and yet Bodie declined.
Doyle looked down at the phone, hearing Bodie's voice again, "Sorry, mate, have other plans."
Other plans? Doyle paced about the flat, restless, wrestling with his thoughts. Damn, something was off, he just knew it. Bodie usually cried off other obligations to motorbike with him. He had to know what was different this time. Decision made, Doyle located his keys atop the kitchen counter, scooped them up, and grabbed his sunglasses. He locked the door behind him. He had to hurry if he wanted to get to Bodie's in time to follow him.
Doyle pulled in behind a lorry down the street just in time and watched Bodie, alone, get into his motor. Bodie pulled away, headed down the road and turned left. Only then did Doyle pull out and race down the street. He turned in behind another vehicle, well out of sight. Bodie's Capri was not difficult to spot up ahead.
Doyle found it easy to keep Bodie in his sight while remaining out of Bodie's until he entered the roundabout for M25. Doyle had to make one extra pass around before following, hoping all the while that Bodie was still in the dark about being tailed and that he hadn't already turned off a side road.
Fear evaporated as soon as he spotted his mate ahead in the far right lane. Could be he was in for a longer ride than anticipated. Doyle remained focused on Bodie's motor and didn't allow his thoughts to wander in search of an answer as to why he was careening out of London just to see what Bodie was up to. He figured it was most likely a bird but he didn't want to dwell on that.
Fiftyish minutes later they passed Bromley, Bodie still travelling in the right lane, his head never moving as though trying to assess the road for lane changes. Doyle wiggled in his seat and settled in for more driving. After they passed Orpington, Bodie switched to the A21, which led them through Kent. Doyle had no guesses to hazard at this time. Curiosity was his motive now. What in the hell could Bodie be doing out here?
Another twenty minutes passed and finally an answer might be looming, as Bodie turned down the road for Sevenoaks Weald. Hell's bells, the only reason to go to Sevenoaks Weald was for McGuffy's and curling. Curling? Bodie curled? The sod had never mentioned it, otherwise Doyle might have shared that he had curled for the Met his first year. Undercover and an erratic schedule put him right off the team.
Bodie curled? Maybe a bird worked here. Doyle pulled over in a lay-by and waited for Bodie to make the turn into the McGuffy's carpark. He watched as Bodie pulled a bag from the boot, one that must have already been inside for Bodie had not left his flat with one. Doyle watched the door close behind his mate before he, too, turned into the carpark.
Doyle exited his motor, locked the door, and then leaned against it. A curling rink? Bodie might have a bird playing here. He found himself oddly disappointed in that, Bodie ditching him and sneaking off to a bird. He walked to the same door that Bodie had entered and pushed it open. He headed to the grandstand, surprised to see it so devoid of spectators. He was even more surprised to see that it was a men's league of curlers.
Doyle searched the ice as he walked along, then stopped suddenly, frozen in place. Stunned. No other word for what he was seeing. Bodie stretched out completely in the full lunge position as he moved flawlessly across the ice. Bodie released the stone just before it crossed the hog line and Doyle's mouth went dry. He knew Bodie was limber, but never had guessed just how limber he was. Doyle reminded himself to breathe, as he remained focussed on Bodie.
His partner stayed down in the lunge position until the sweepers took position then he drew his right leg up to complete the crouch. His eyes remained on the stone until it stopped in a perfect guard position on the left side. Then, with that uncanny ability to know just where his partner was, Bodie turned and looked up in the stands and located Doyle unerringly.
Doyle weakly waved with trepidation.
Bodie beamed a most delighted smile and nodded once before he resumed his playing duties. Doyle felt warmed to the core.
He wasn't sure how to explain his presence here, but it seemed he had some time to come up with an answer. He sat down and found Bodie on the ice once more.
Doyle recognised the focus and the exasperated body language that Bodie presented, but not a smidgen of it appeared on his face or in his voice as he tapped the ice for the stone placement. Doyle bet that move was a ritual for Bodie, tapping the ice before a throw. Leave it to Bodie to play a sport where one would never knowingly break a rule or disrespect the game.
Doyle thought he was prepared for the lunge move this time, it seemed he was wrong. His breathing paused and his mouth went dry again. What was wrong with him? Maybe the shock of seeing Bodie so uninhibited in simple sport was surprising knowing what he did for a living. That was as good as any reason right now.
Bodie yelled hard, hard and Doyle watched the sweepers scrub the ice for all they were worth, helping Bodie's stone curl in behind his first stone. His teammates cheered and high-fived him, but Bodie took a quick moment to throw a thumbs-up to him. Doyle felt warmed again. Bodie returned to his curling duties. He was a sweeper now.
Doyle was quite happy that he was virtually the only person sitting in the stands. He could openly appreciate what he was watching without having to school expressions that could very well give away what he was thinking. Doyle took pause, just what was he worried about showing?
That Bodie was an excellent figure in black against the white ice was self-evident. That it took his breath away was not. As Bodie did another round of sweeping, Doyle wished he had a pair of binoculars to view more closely the perfect bum facing him. Doyle knew without any doubt that Bodie wasn't displaying on purpose. The man was without guile that way.
Bodie coasted along the ice effortlessly on his slider, pushing off with the gripper occasionally to get to the other side of the sheet. The skip put his arm about Bodie's shoulder and leaned in while rubbing his arm. The skip wore a huge smile on his face. Doyle sat straight up and leaned forward with a frown. How dare that bloke take such blatant liberties. That Bodie didn't shake the arm off was just as irritating. Doyle sat back and slouched down when Bodie finally stepped away from the contact.
It was after the fifth end that Bodie looked up into the stands, seeming to seek him out. Doyle shifted up in his seat so he would be viewable and waved. He tried to assure Bodie that he would stay to the end. Oddly enough, Doyle knew that was a truth and possibly it was time to admit it to himself.
There was no one else quite like Bodie. While that might have been obvious to all others, it was even more so to Doyle. He knew that Bodie was unparalleled. No one had his back like Bodie, and he trusted no one above Bodie. That was paramount in their work, but Doyle knew it was more than that, the belief in that trust had seeped into his personal life as well.
He was his best mate, after all, but that persistent inner voice told him he was obfuscating. About what exactly? he demanded of his thought process and it seemed to mock him.
What was he expecting from Bodie? Or better yet, what did he want from Bodie. A lot more popped into his head, and with that he wondered if he was brave enough to continue. But truly at this point there was no going back. So, what did he want from Bodie. Honestly, he wanted Bodie as a partner on the job and off. Wanted Bodie in his bed? His body was already on board, if the shot of lust that went straight to his cock was to be believed.
Bodie was sweeping again. Bent over, leaning on the broom as they scrubbed the ice, Bodie's bum was displayed in all its perfection.
Doyle wiggled in his seat again, this time to adjust himself. He was half hard just thinking about Bodie's bum. He followed that thought in his imagination to where he ran his finger along that seam, let his hands cup that bum, and grew harder still. Doyle took in a slightly ragged breath. He needed to check his responses so he looked at the other players as each one lunged and watched them sweep, but nothing. Just Bodie had that effect on him.
Bodie looked up his way again before his next turn and Doyle was ever grateful that Bodie couldn't see the condition he was in. He watched Bodie lunge again and accepted his full state of arousal.
Bodie's bod made him hard.
Yet, Doyle knew it was much more than the way Bodie looked and moved. His racing heart, he felt the frisson of desire just watching Bodie bend and move was a strong indication., but it was Bodie himself, the complete package. It set him apart from all others, and was what he wanted in his life, and where his heart lay.
Doyle's world fell into place.
He was in love with Bodie.
Now all he had to do was ascertain where Bodie stood in all this.
The men on the ice were congratulating each other; it was time for explanations. Doyle stood and started to make his way down.
"I won't miss the Campari round," Bodie called after his teammates. He sighed and turned around to face the approaching Doyle, resigned. "Cow has a job for us," he stated as Doyle drew into hearing distance.
"No," Doyle answered steadfastly.
Bodie looked taken aback. "I thought HQ told you where I was." Bodie left the sentence hanging.
"Nope. Followed you," Doyle stated with satisfaction.
"You didn't?" Bodie's curiosity was piqued.
"Yeah and you never even noticed me." The pride in his voice and stance was hard to miss.
Bodie cocked his head. "No job, then why did you come?"
"You blew off motorbiking and I was curious as to why." Doyle was surprised how calm he was. "I curled for the Met until my hours got in the way." Doyle made for the stones, lined up and ready for the next group.
Doyle left a dumbfounded Bodie in his wake, then turned back to look at him. "Okay for me to try?"
Perplexed but curious, Bodie nodded.
Doyle picked up a stone with his right hand and moved it up and down, weighing the feel of it. "Don't have the right shoes but I think I can manage."
Bodie moved off the starting area and positioned himself behind Doyle.
Doyle lunged as he remembered, a skill not forgotten. He watched it cross the hog line then immediately cranked his head to see Bodie behind him. Just what he was hoping, Bodie's eyes were glued to his bum, and his throat moved convulsively. Doyle was sure of his direction now.
Bodie waited as Doyle threw a couple more stones. Appreciation for what he was viewing was easy to read on his face. Whether it was for throwing prowess or other assets, Doyle was unsure. Doyle made his way back to Bodie.
"Ray, why are you here?" Bodie asked after they finished lining up the stones for their next use.
"I told you, I followed you," Doyle answered doggedly.
Bodie shook his head. "There has to be a reason you followed me," he stated patiently.
"You blew me off."
"Yes, you said that already."
Doyle fidgeted a bit in place. "Well, it got me to thinking. You usually blow off your other dates and since this time you didn't, I got worried that I may have some real competition."
Bodie remained still, a puzzled expression adorned his face. "Competition?"
"Yes, well I realised I didn't want to be in competition with anyone at all. I didn't want to go riding alone this morning. I didn't want a bird to join me. I realised that birds don't hold any allure for me anymore, not the way you do."
Bodie's stance relaxed and his face softened. "Ray, do you understand what you're saying?"
"Yeah. I've been hard since I watched you sweep."
Bodie stepped up close and pulled Ray into his arms. "I noticed," he whispered into Ray's ear just before he kissed him.
Doyle noted with great satisfaction that Bodie was in the same state of hardness. Then he gave himself up to the kiss. When Bodie pulled slightly away he was breathing as heavily as Doyle.
"Let's get off the ice and into the locker room. I won't last until we get home."
A frisson of thrill ran through Doyle at the implication, and if it were possible to get harder than he already was, he did.
The locker room was silent and Bodie pushed Doyle up against the wall of the shower alcove. He pressed his body close. Doyle pushed his right leg in between Bodie's and arched into the answering hardness. He loved the feel of Bodie pressing him close. The wall was perfect behind him, allowing him the purchase to push into Bodie as well. Their cocks seem to align perfectly, and Doyle pressed even harder. Bodie's lips moved into devour his and Doyle answered the passion with his own. Like two schoolboys on a first try, both came quickly in a rush of sensation of awe.
When the sensations subsided, Bodie whispered against Doyle's hair, "So much better than my dreams of late."
Doyle sighed, "I didn't twig until today. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I only ever thought it could be a dream."
Doyle smiled as he ran his fingertips softly down Bodie's face, to cup his chin and kiss him again.
"Say, don't you still have to join your curling mates for that celebratory drink?" Doyle offered up, yet didn't move.
"No, I have a better celebration here." Bodie moved in closer for another kiss.
Doyle couldn't help but agree.
fin
Many thanks to my beta
That particular curling arena is fictitious.