(no subject)
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: games people play
A bit of a mishmash of story and image choices this time. I thought the theme would offer up lots of possibilities and be a fairly easy one to work with but it wasn't and I got well and truly stuck. Anyway, I hope there are some things here for people to enjoy.
....Dark circles under his eyes and a ghastly gray-green pallor betrayed the excesses of the night. Doyle couldn't have loved him more if he'd just crawled out of a garbage-strewn alley soaked in cat piss. "Mornin'," he said warmly, eager to resume where they'd left off.
Bodie stared at him. "Is that what this is? Christ, it sucks....."
"Bodie?" A flicker of doubt crossed Doyle's mind.
The other man paused, looked at him steadily. "What?" There was a distinct note of irritation in his voice.
Still smiling, still trying to be happy, Doyle said, "I was just thinking what a terrific evening we had. Didn't we?" Something wasn't right. The blank look on Bodie's face wasn't right at all.
Bodie slowly shook his head. "You're mental, Doyle. Gettin' so sloshed I can barely pee straight is not my idea of a good time."
"But--" Doyle's smile faded. It suddenly struck him what the problem was. Bodie was pretending that nothing had happened last night. Because he didn't want anything to have happened. He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
Find me, Bodie had said....
He had to think like Bodie - shouldn’t be too hard, it was what they did at work every day, and outside work too...They were on the first floor - down was the ground floor, with security and the typing pool, then the basement with its long pipe-lined corridors and dusty rooms. Bodie was wearing new trousers. Brown corduroy, tight in all the places Doyle could have wished them to be tight. Upstairs, then. Second floor offices, empty rooms, ranks of filing cabinets - no wonder no one else was searching up here. Third floor, completely abandoned - CI5 wasn’t that big...
In a corner of the landing there was a hatch up to the attics, low enough to open, though any ladder was long gone, and then there was another narrow but long corridor, with slant-roofed rooms down either side.
Find me…
Doyle hesitated a bare moment, listening, but there was only the now-distant calls of the others, the occasional rumble of a vehicle down Christmas-quiet roads. There was no sign that Bodie was up there, but…
Find me…
No sound inside. He was going to look a right idiot if he’d got it wrong.
Find me.....Together at Christmas:Slantedlight
And tossed casually on the rumpled black silk were the kind of items Bodie had not seen in years. Not since a weekend in Cherbourg with a girl called Francine, whose tastes ran to the definitely exotic. But he did not think a girl had been at play here...
"What is it?" Ray asked, hushed, as if they were up to something very wicked, and very exciting....
"It's a body harness. Very chic. Play clothes, for the man who has everything. See? This strap buckles to the collar, this one buckles around the waist like a belt, this one buckles to the top of the cockring."
"Oh." Ray took a shaky breath. "Then, that'll be the neck collar and that'll be the cockring, on the bed there." He leaned over and gingerly lifted up the two soft but sturdy leather pieces. "The cockring's got two loops......Christ, Bodie, this is kinky."
A Game for Two Players:Jane
Bodie made his usual grand entrance, this time carrying-
"What the hell?" Ray barked when Bodie thrust the red roses...
"Told you that you needed courting."
"I'm not a bird...."
Bodie smiled. "Nice shirt," he said softly....Haven't seen you all week. Been looking forward to this."
Doyle canted his head to glance up. "You have?"
"Yup." Bodie cocked his head, smiling. "Let's go."
"Where to?"
"Ahhhh, but the guest doesn't ask the host where they're dining."
Ray's irritation suddenly flared. "I'm not some- This isn't a date!"
"But it is. The first of many....You need somebody who appreciates you."
Last Time Around:Lilyk
Doyle might not know how to deal with bitches like this; but Bodie did.
Bodie threw down another drink, then walked over to look down at Margo as her eyes followed his every move. "Is Doyle right," he asked when he stood over her, "Do you want to get fucked?"
Her answer was a weak "Yes."
"Louder," Bodie demanded. "I need to make sure this is what you want."
"Yes. Yes," she stated with a little more force each time.
"Well then, get up on the settee."
Scrambling to sit up, Margo did as she was told and Bodie moved to stand over her. "You'll have to get it ready," he said.
Margo began rubbing the inside of Bodie's thighs and then reached for the swelling length beneath two layers of material. "Go on, sweetheart," he murmured, kicking off his shoes, "pull it out." Trembling, her hands went to his belt buckle, loosening the leather then reaching for his zip.....
Whisper of a Kill:Lois Welling
"I seem to remember you saying something yesterday about how much you hated the man. Why is that?"
.... "Well, there was this girl...." He let out a mournful sigh. "Suzanne. She was beautiful. Had this lovely, long red hair...well, it doesn't matter now. It was jealousy, you see. He wanted her, I wanted her, but I won. And he couldn't take it. One day, when I wasn't around, he came round to her, and he had this knife--" He broke off, rubbing a hand across his eyes.
"No, I can't tell you about it. It's too painful."
Doyle had never witnessed such a fake performance in his entire life. But his boss was clearly moved by it.
"Such a tragedy," he said.
Bodie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Well, it's history. It's over. Let's just move on, shall we?"
"Of course.....You're such a brave fellow..."
Doyle nearly gagged, but managed to hold back.
Memoirs of a Merc:Alexandra
I moved to stand beside him.
"Will he do?" he asked.
"Yes. Where did you find him?"
He smiled. "Och now, Bodie, you don't really think I'm going to tell you that, do you? You had a need and I supplied it. That's all you need to know."
"And her?"
"She'll get her just desserts. I'll think of something - appropriate."
I had no doubt that he would.
House Party (I Live to Serrve):Lizzie/Harriet Allenby
He didn't like it. Not at all, but it was a big place, and he wanted that information. Though part of him knew it was stupid, he started looking around. As he moved across the bridge, the half-expected shower of bullets broke the oppressive silence. He threw himself to one side, rolling away from the burst that only chased him. More games. Gaining his footing, he ran, rolled, then kept his head down as another barrage riddled the rubbish he'd chosen as a temporary refuge. Not just a game, he realized after a third session of run-and-duck. He was being herded. Sorry, not interested, he thought, a quick glance around giving him the choice of at least three routes back to his car and two to the river. But before he could act, the bullets sounded again, this time striking a target well away from him. He didn't move for a second, and another barrage pummeled that same distant area. His mouth suddenly dry, Doyle moved forward....
"Oh, God." He found himself staring at his worst nightmare.....
The Hunter's Bait:Anne Higgins
'Just the silver,' was Doyle's only instruction. '*All* the silver....'
'They're your family!' he hissed at Doyle.
'I divorced them,' was the cool reply. 'But I didn't care for the terms of the settlement.'
'What the hell?' Bodie sounded admiring and bewildered. And angry.
'Just starting to redress an injustice. Someday,' Doyle continued with heavy sarcasm, 'this was all meant to be mine.'
'You're rich!' Bodie accused. 'Where's the country estate?'
'They're rich.' Doyle turned to regard him. 'And it's most of Wiltshire. I wasn't lying about the Sorbonne, you know. I didn't go there on welfare...'
'I know,' Bodie said... 'They didn't like you being queer...'
Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money:Stew
The club was dark, the air thick with smoke. Disco music blared from the speakers, and men danced in the centre of the floor. There were no women. Doyle stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. He must have got it wrong-Bodie wouldn’t be here-he wouldn’t- Nevertheless, he walked towards the bar, very aware of the looks he was receiving. Bodie wasn’t here. He’d gone in to a different place. He had to have.
A group of men congregated in the space between the door to the toilets and the bar. Some of them weren’t waiting for the scant privacy the toilets would provide. Bodie wasn’t amongst them. But as Doyle passed the group, the door to the toilets opened and-dammit-Bodie walked out, dressed in black. He zipped his trousers closed as he moved past the men, his natural arrogance on full display. Doyle stood still, rooted to the floor. Bodie saw him, faltered, then recovered.
Don’t, Doyle thought, but he watched Bodie pull a mantle of assurance, cockiness, around him.
“Ray.” Bodie walked towards him. “What are you doing in Manchester?” His voice held nothing but surprise in it, but his eyes flicked to the men watching them. Was he undercover? Was this part of…? No. Even in the dim light he could read Bodie. The only one he was trying to fool was Doyle.
“You bastard,” he said as anger overwhelmed shock. “You fucking-”
Unexamined Beliefs:PFL
Seated at the corner of the bar, she watched the two men enter the soft-lighted pub, only the flicker of her luminous eyes betraying her interest. She shifted on the stool, letting her skirt slide upwards across a tanned thigh - not too much, mind, just a hint of what was offered, just enough to tantalize. Hard to hide the sigh of boredom, though it didn't matter, sex was a meaningless sweaty exertion, work for a price. Still, this time the job held a hint of mystery, the need to be seductive, the targets weren't to know she was a professional. So it helped that these two were young and clean. A pair of predators on the prowl, one was like a big black panther with raven eyes; the other was slender and quick, all curls, long limbs in fluid motion. But it was just another job, and she met dark- eyes' glance with softest of a come-hither look, sultry and disdainful. A catch, pale blue holding midnight blue for the space of a heartbeat, then slowly moving on, her eyes flickering to his friend, holding, then sliding across the room. But she could feel his motion, sense it, the quick nudge against the other man's arm, a shift
in their stances, simultaneous and certain.
The pick-up was easy.
Predators:Jennifer Lyon
They headed north-west across country, the same direction from which the soldiers had come. Bodie
knew it was a gamble, he was either leading them into salvation or straight into the devil's lair.
Studying the man in the driver’s seat, he tried to consolidate him with the psycho who’d made targets
of them a little over two months ago. Back then the callous bastard had wanted them dead purely for
profit so it begged the question, what game was he playing now? Was he planning to put a bullet
into both of them when their backs were turned? Seemed unlikely considering he’d already had
the opportunity but maybe he was waiting until they were within sight of sanctuary. The man
was an enigma, a mystery too hard to crack with a pounding head so he focussed on the job
at hand. He’d decide what to do with him later when his head didn’t hurt so much.
A Prize Highly Valued:ci5mates
“I get the feeling there’s some serious speculation going on about you,” he said. “How many d’you
reckon think your boyfriend’s been beating you up?”
Doyle looked at Bodie, trying to see him as others might....stubble beginning to shadow his jaw.
Hard, seen-it-all eyes, insolent set to his mouth. Yeah, he looked the type right enough.
“Speculation about us, you mean,” Doyle said. “Well,” He pointed out, “If my boyfriend’s beating me up, you know who’s in the frame, don’t you?”
He regretted the words the instant they left his lips. A dangerous light was dawning in Bodie’s eyes. The Wrong End of the Stick:ElizabethOShea
Behind them, a throat was suddenly cleared. Loudly. In a decided Scots voice. “BODIE! DOYLE! On your feet!”
They sprang up.
He glared at them, surveying their rumpled clothes disapprovingly. “Well? What seems to be the trouble here?”
“Four kings, sir,” said Doyle, hesitantly, but unwilling to give in quite yet....“He got four kings in poker. Said he did, anyway.”
Cowley transferred his baleful gaze to Bodie. “Well? Did you?”
Standing very straight and at attention, despite the less than pristine clothes, Bodie said, “Sir! I did, sir!” If there was a hint of a smirk in his face, or his eyes, Cowley may have seen it. He surveyed the two for a long time-or what felt like a long time.
“I think,” said Cowley quietly, “that such childish arguments should best be settled by...
Macklin. Yes. I’ll call him up right now, and you can both head over tonight for a little catch-up training.”
“No! Sir! That is-we’re-we’re fine,” gulped Doyle.
“Oh?” asked Cowley in a very calm voice. “Are you certain, 4.5?”
“Yes sir,” gulped Doyle. “We’re fine. Just-a game, after all....” Game:Hutchy/Allie
Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him, every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle, to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him, stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone...
... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of anticipation... If he stops now - oh God, don't let him stop now...
Siren:Sebastian
We've seen your type before. Straight boys," and he made the term sound like a vile insult,
experimenting, slumming it for the week..."
"And if you want to explore your hidden desires with someone else, that's fine, that's
wonderful, we're thrilled for you." The sarcasm was biting. "But find someone else. Not Bodie."
"Why not?" He was surprised to hear the anger in his own voice.
"Doesn't matter to you who it is, does it?" Rutter continued smoothly. Had they practiced this?
He was reminded of the time Cowley'd called him and Bodie a music-hall act; the two of them had
nothing on this assault. "Any man'll do. But it matters very much to us, you see."
"Bodie's our friend," Hull joined in. "And on occasion is possessed of more heart than sense,
especially in his love life." That wasn't Bodie. Doyle snorted inwardly. He doubted Bodie'd
ever been in love in his life. And with men? Ridiculous.
"We don't enjoy picking up the pieces of his broken heart," Rutter said. "And if you can
bring yourself to care the slightest bit for his future welfare-" he gave Doyle a
skeptical look- "you'll break up with him now, before he falls in love with you."
"Why would he fall in love with me?"
...Hull smirked. "God only knows. But I saw how he was looking at you last night."
Arcadia:Sineala
A bit of a mishmash of story and image choices this time. I thought the theme would offer up lots of possibilities and be a fairly easy one to work with but it wasn't and I got well and truly stuck. Anyway, I hope there are some things here for people to enjoy.
....Dark circles under his eyes and a ghastly gray-green pallor betrayed the excesses of the night. Doyle couldn't have loved him more if he'd just crawled out of a garbage-strewn alley soaked in cat piss. "Mornin'," he said warmly, eager to resume where they'd left off.
Bodie stared at him. "Is that what this is? Christ, it sucks....."
"Bodie?" A flicker of doubt crossed Doyle's mind.
The other man paused, looked at him steadily. "What?" There was a distinct note of irritation in his voice.
Still smiling, still trying to be happy, Doyle said, "I was just thinking what a terrific evening we had. Didn't we?" Something wasn't right. The blank look on Bodie's face wasn't right at all.
Bodie slowly shook his head. "You're mental, Doyle. Gettin' so sloshed I can barely pee straight is not my idea of a good time."
"But--" Doyle's smile faded. It suddenly struck him what the problem was. Bodie was pretending that nothing had happened last night. Because he didn't want anything to have happened. He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
Find me, Bodie had said....
He had to think like Bodie - shouldn’t be too hard, it was what they did at work every day, and outside work too...They were on the first floor - down was the ground floor, with security and the typing pool, then the basement with its long pipe-lined corridors and dusty rooms. Bodie was wearing new trousers. Brown corduroy, tight in all the places Doyle could have wished them to be tight. Upstairs, then. Second floor offices, empty rooms, ranks of filing cabinets - no wonder no one else was searching up here. Third floor, completely abandoned - CI5 wasn’t that big...
In a corner of the landing there was a hatch up to the attics, low enough to open, though any ladder was long gone, and then there was another narrow but long corridor, with slant-roofed rooms down either side.
Find me…
Doyle hesitated a bare moment, listening, but there was only the now-distant calls of the others, the occasional rumble of a vehicle down Christmas-quiet roads. There was no sign that Bodie was up there, but…
Find me…
No sound inside. He was going to look a right idiot if he’d got it wrong.
Find me.....Together at Christmas:Slantedlight
And tossed casually on the rumpled black silk were the kind of items Bodie had not seen in years. Not since a weekend in Cherbourg with a girl called Francine, whose tastes ran to the definitely exotic. But he did not think a girl had been at play here...
"What is it?" Ray asked, hushed, as if they were up to something very wicked, and very exciting....
"It's a body harness. Very chic. Play clothes, for the man who has everything. See? This strap buckles to the collar, this one buckles around the waist like a belt, this one buckles to the top of the cockring."
"Oh." Ray took a shaky breath. "Then, that'll be the neck collar and that'll be the cockring, on the bed there." He leaned over and gingerly lifted up the two soft but sturdy leather pieces. "The cockring's got two loops......Christ, Bodie, this is kinky."
A Game for Two Players:Jane
Bodie made his usual grand entrance, this time carrying-
"What the hell?" Ray barked when Bodie thrust the red roses...
"Told you that you needed courting."
"I'm not a bird...."
Bodie smiled. "Nice shirt," he said softly....Haven't seen you all week. Been looking forward to this."
Doyle canted his head to glance up. "You have?"
"Yup." Bodie cocked his head, smiling. "Let's go."
"Where to?"
"Ahhhh, but the guest doesn't ask the host where they're dining."
Ray's irritation suddenly flared. "I'm not some- This isn't a date!"
"But it is. The first of many....You need somebody who appreciates you."
Last Time Around:Lilyk
Doyle might not know how to deal with bitches like this; but Bodie did.
Bodie threw down another drink, then walked over to look down at Margo as her eyes followed his every move. "Is Doyle right," he asked when he stood over her, "Do you want to get fucked?"
Her answer was a weak "Yes."
"Louder," Bodie demanded. "I need to make sure this is what you want."
"Yes. Yes," she stated with a little more force each time.
"Well then, get up on the settee."
Scrambling to sit up, Margo did as she was told and Bodie moved to stand over her. "You'll have to get it ready," he said.
Margo began rubbing the inside of Bodie's thighs and then reached for the swelling length beneath two layers of material. "Go on, sweetheart," he murmured, kicking off his shoes, "pull it out." Trembling, her hands went to his belt buckle, loosening the leather then reaching for his zip.....
Whisper of a Kill:Lois Welling
"I seem to remember you saying something yesterday about how much you hated the man. Why is that?"
.... "Well, there was this girl...." He let out a mournful sigh. "Suzanne. She was beautiful. Had this lovely, long red hair...well, it doesn't matter now. It was jealousy, you see. He wanted her, I wanted her, but I won. And he couldn't take it. One day, when I wasn't around, he came round to her, and he had this knife--" He broke off, rubbing a hand across his eyes.
"No, I can't tell you about it. It's too painful."
Doyle had never witnessed such a fake performance in his entire life. But his boss was clearly moved by it.
"Such a tragedy," he said.
Bodie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Well, it's history. It's over. Let's just move on, shall we?"
"Of course.....You're such a brave fellow..."
Doyle nearly gagged, but managed to hold back.
Memoirs of a Merc:Alexandra
I moved to stand beside him.
"Will he do?" he asked.
"Yes. Where did you find him?"
He smiled. "Och now, Bodie, you don't really think I'm going to tell you that, do you? You had a need and I supplied it. That's all you need to know."
"And her?"
"She'll get her just desserts. I'll think of something - appropriate."
I had no doubt that he would.
House Party (I Live to Serrve):Lizzie/Harriet Allenby
He didn't like it. Not at all, but it was a big place, and he wanted that information. Though part of him knew it was stupid, he started looking around. As he moved across the bridge, the half-expected shower of bullets broke the oppressive silence. He threw himself to one side, rolling away from the burst that only chased him. More games. Gaining his footing, he ran, rolled, then kept his head down as another barrage riddled the rubbish he'd chosen as a temporary refuge. Not just a game, he realized after a third session of run-and-duck. He was being herded. Sorry, not interested, he thought, a quick glance around giving him the choice of at least three routes back to his car and two to the river. But before he could act, the bullets sounded again, this time striking a target well away from him. He didn't move for a second, and another barrage pummeled that same distant area. His mouth suddenly dry, Doyle moved forward....
"Oh, God." He found himself staring at his worst nightmare.....
The Hunter's Bait:Anne Higgins
'Just the silver,' was Doyle's only instruction. '*All* the silver....'
'They're your family!' he hissed at Doyle.
'I divorced them,' was the cool reply. 'But I didn't care for the terms of the settlement.'
'What the hell?' Bodie sounded admiring and bewildered. And angry.
'Just starting to redress an injustice. Someday,' Doyle continued with heavy sarcasm, 'this was all meant to be mine.'
'You're rich!' Bodie accused. 'Where's the country estate?'
'They're rich.' Doyle turned to regard him. 'And it's most of Wiltshire. I wasn't lying about the Sorbonne, you know. I didn't go there on welfare...'
'I know,' Bodie said... 'They didn't like you being queer...'
Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money:Stew
The club was dark, the air thick with smoke. Disco music blared from the speakers, and men danced in the centre of the floor. There were no women. Doyle stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. He must have got it wrong-Bodie wouldn’t be here-he wouldn’t- Nevertheless, he walked towards the bar, very aware of the looks he was receiving. Bodie wasn’t here. He’d gone in to a different place. He had to have.
A group of men congregated in the space between the door to the toilets and the bar. Some of them weren’t waiting for the scant privacy the toilets would provide. Bodie wasn’t amongst them. But as Doyle passed the group, the door to the toilets opened and-dammit-Bodie walked out, dressed in black. He zipped his trousers closed as he moved past the men, his natural arrogance on full display. Doyle stood still, rooted to the floor. Bodie saw him, faltered, then recovered.
Don’t, Doyle thought, but he watched Bodie pull a mantle of assurance, cockiness, around him.
“Ray.” Bodie walked towards him. “What are you doing in Manchester?” His voice held nothing but surprise in it, but his eyes flicked to the men watching them. Was he undercover? Was this part of…? No. Even in the dim light he could read Bodie. The only one he was trying to fool was Doyle.
“You bastard,” he said as anger overwhelmed shock. “You fucking-”
Unexamined Beliefs:PFL
Seated at the corner of the bar, she watched the two men enter the soft-lighted pub, only the flicker of her luminous eyes betraying her interest. She shifted on the stool, letting her skirt slide upwards across a tanned thigh - not too much, mind, just a hint of what was offered, just enough to tantalize. Hard to hide the sigh of boredom, though it didn't matter, sex was a meaningless sweaty exertion, work for a price. Still, this time the job held a hint of mystery, the need to be seductive, the targets weren't to know she was a professional. So it helped that these two were young and clean. A pair of predators on the prowl, one was like a big black panther with raven eyes; the other was slender and quick, all curls, long limbs in fluid motion. But it was just another job, and she met dark- eyes' glance with softest of a come-hither look, sultry and disdainful. A catch, pale blue holding midnight blue for the space of a heartbeat, then slowly moving on, her eyes flickering to his friend, holding, then sliding across the room. But she could feel his motion, sense it, the quick nudge against the other man's arm, a shift
in their stances, simultaneous and certain.
The pick-up was easy.
Predators:Jennifer Lyon
They headed north-west across country, the same direction from which the soldiers had come. Bodie
knew it was a gamble, he was either leading them into salvation or straight into the devil's lair.
Studying the man in the driver’s seat, he tried to consolidate him with the psycho who’d made targets
of them a little over two months ago. Back then the callous bastard had wanted them dead purely for
profit so it begged the question, what game was he playing now? Was he planning to put a bullet
into both of them when their backs were turned? Seemed unlikely considering he’d already had
the opportunity but maybe he was waiting until they were within sight of sanctuary. The man
was an enigma, a mystery too hard to crack with a pounding head so he focussed on the job
at hand. He’d decide what to do with him later when his head didn’t hurt so much.
A Prize Highly Valued:ci5mates
“I get the feeling there’s some serious speculation going on about you,” he said. “How many d’you
reckon think your boyfriend’s been beating you up?”
Doyle looked at Bodie, trying to see him as others might....stubble beginning to shadow his jaw.
Hard, seen-it-all eyes, insolent set to his mouth. Yeah, he looked the type right enough.
“Speculation about us, you mean,” Doyle said. “Well,” He pointed out, “If my boyfriend’s beating me up, you know who’s in the frame, don’t you?”
He regretted the words the instant they left his lips. A dangerous light was dawning in Bodie’s eyes. The Wrong End of the Stick:ElizabethOShea
Behind them, a throat was suddenly cleared. Loudly. In a decided Scots voice. “BODIE! DOYLE! On your feet!”
They sprang up.
He glared at them, surveying their rumpled clothes disapprovingly. “Well? What seems to be the trouble here?”
“Four kings, sir,” said Doyle, hesitantly, but unwilling to give in quite yet....“He got four kings in poker. Said he did, anyway.”
Cowley transferred his baleful gaze to Bodie. “Well? Did you?”
Standing very straight and at attention, despite the less than pristine clothes, Bodie said, “Sir! I did, sir!” If there was a hint of a smirk in his face, or his eyes, Cowley may have seen it. He surveyed the two for a long time-or what felt like a long time.
“I think,” said Cowley quietly, “that such childish arguments should best be settled by...
Macklin. Yes. I’ll call him up right now, and you can both head over tonight for a little catch-up training.”
“No! Sir! That is-we’re-we’re fine,” gulped Doyle.
“Oh?” asked Cowley in a very calm voice. “Are you certain, 4.5?”
“Yes sir,” gulped Doyle. “We’re fine. Just-a game, after all....” Game:Hutchy/Allie
Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him, every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle, to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him, stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone...
... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of anticipation... If he stops now - oh God, don't let him stop now...
Siren:Sebastian
We've seen your type before. Straight boys," and he made the term sound like a vile insult,
experimenting, slumming it for the week..."
"And if you want to explore your hidden desires with someone else, that's fine, that's
wonderful, we're thrilled for you." The sarcasm was biting. "But find someone else. Not Bodie."
"Why not?" He was surprised to hear the anger in his own voice.
"Doesn't matter to you who it is, does it?" Rutter continued smoothly. Had they practiced this?
He was reminded of the time Cowley'd called him and Bodie a music-hall act; the two of them had
nothing on this assault. "Any man'll do. But it matters very much to us, you see."
"Bodie's our friend," Hull joined in. "And on occasion is possessed of more heart than sense,
especially in his love life." That wasn't Bodie. Doyle snorted inwardly. He doubted Bodie'd
ever been in love in his life. And with men? Ridiculous.
"We don't enjoy picking up the pieces of his broken heart," Rutter said. "And if you can
bring yourself to care the slightest bit for his future welfare-" he gave Doyle a
skeptical look- "you'll break up with him now, before he falls in love with you."
"Why would he fall in love with me?"
...Hull smirked. "God only knows. But I saw how he was looking at you last night."
Arcadia:Sineala