Weekly Obbo 137 jump, rust, picture prompt
Title: Inmates
Author: Merentha13
Pros-Lib / Circuit Archive: Yes
Pairing and / or characters: Doyle/Bodie
Rating: adult
Word count: 1080
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Just borrowing the lads, no copyright infringement intended
Note: Thanks Maddalia!
Catcalls and whistles let me know somethin’ was goin’ on. New prisoner. Hands thrust through the bars to “welcome” the new blood. Except the new guy in #34. His hands were relaxed, just resting on the cross bars like all this was beneath him. Uppity bastard.
Guards on either side of the shackled man warned the inmates back with their truncheons and glares. They could keep the physical touches away, but the leers and the whistles were getting’ through. Could tell that by the stiffness of the walk and the hunched shoulders. Shouldn’t show fear, darlin’. Not here.
The keepers approached my cell and I finally got a good look at our latest guest. The overhead lights lit his battered features, limp curls, dull eyes and slim build. No! It couldn’t be - could it? The Terror of Stepney Green, PC Doyle - here?
“Step back,” the guard sent the end of his club through the bars to move me back.
One unlocked the door and pushed his prisoner into the cell. They removed the chains around his ankles and wrists. I had to bite back a laugh as Doyle jumped when the cell door clicked shut behind him. Welcome to my world. He looked pretty much the same as I remembered, maybe a little worse for wear. Same cold eyes, hair a bit longer, and the damaged cheek. It was Doyle alright. The cheek hadn’t healed well. I still remember watching Preston slam Doyle’s face into the side of the dust bin in the alley, still remember the sickening sound of bone hitting the rust covered metal, the blood pouring from the wound and the soft whimper Doyle couldn’t stifle as he blacked out. We didn’t see him around after that. Rumour had him dead, or off the force, or moving up the ladder. Nothin’ I’d heard could explain what he was doin’ here now. He looked like he couldn’t believe it either. Those big eyes wide open and maybe a bit haunted. He had to know what was waiting for him when the inmates found out who he was.
“Doyle.”
He jumped and spun to face me.
“Nervous?”
He ignored my mocking tone and asked, “You know me?”
“I’m hurt, Constable, that you don’t remember me.”
He tipped his head to one side and studied me a moment. His gaze stripped me to the bone, catalogued and rejected me like the piece of rubbish he thought I was.
“I remember,” he raised a hand slowly, almost reluctantly, to his cheek and rubbed the strange lump. “Oh yeah, I remember.”
He looked around the cell, taking in the washstand, the privy, the beds. “Which one?”
“Top,” I answered.
He swung himself into the lower bunk, rolled onto his side, facing the wall, and went to sleep.
“Still cool as you please, eh Constable? We’ll see how long that lasts.”
###
Caught them in the showers this morning, Doyle and the other new one. Big good-lookin’ bloke, superior attitude with the muscles to back it up. Took a shine to our Ray right off, he did. I found blue-eyes pinning Doyle to the tiles, pressed tight against his back, hands runnin’ all over him. They were whispering something fierce. Doyle was angry; the other one, Bodie, seemed to be tryin’ to soothe ruffled feathers. I listened as best I could without bein’ seen. Mr Macho said something about takin’ advantage of the opportunity, and Doyle answered him with a dark and dirty laugh.
“C’mon, Sunshine, where else can we be this open?” Big hands slid through the suds runnin’ down Doyle’s back and followed them into the dark cleft between Doyle’s cheeks. His deep voice mocked, “We’re already in jail, what else can they do?”
Didn’t take a genius to see what was goin’ on. Strange, though, Doyle seemed to be encouraging the man, seemed to be enjoying it.
The sounds of the running water and the slap of skin on skin drown out their whispers. I was gettin’ hot watchin’. Wasn’t what you usually saw goin’ on in a place like this. It was almost, well, gentle, loving... Bodie threw his head back and groaned, the muscles in his back stood out starkly as he moved with Doyle, holding him tightly. It was pretty clear that no one else was going to get a piece of Doyle. There were “No Trespassing” signs hanging all over that one. Another groan and Doyle sagged back against Bodie’s chest.
“Bet Cowley never saw this coming,” Ray smirked. They both giggled then and stiffened when they realised they weren’t alone. If looks could kill…
I turned and hurried away, thinking about what I’d overheard. Cowley was some big name in CI5. Did those two work for him? Made sense, that did, Doyle havin’ been a copper and all. And if they did work for Cowley, what were they doing in here? Undercover? I had some checking to do. But whatever it turned out to be, I was going to stay out of the way. I’ve only got three months left in here and I’m not takin’ any chances on ruinin’ that.
###
Knew it was only a matter of time. Doyle was just too pretty for his own good. The slim build, the curly hair and angel face, and the way he moved; he looked to be begging for it. He’d held off several attempts on his virtue. One on one he was more than able to take care of himself. This time they came as a group. They’d surrounded him at breakfast, a group of four that had been following him around like vultures. He sat across the table from me and ate his meal as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Only someone who had spent time with him would’ve noticed the tension in his shoulders and around the corners of his eyes. Abrams, the lead bullyboy, reached out to run a hand through the curly hair. Doyle looked up but didn’t move. He smiled at Abrams. A large hand had settled on the back of Abram’s neck, gripping hard enough to make the man wince.
“Are these gentlemen bothering you, Raymond?” Posh as you please and the menacing warning in the smooth voice was as clear and cold as the ice blue eyes that studied us all. That decided it for me. No matter what the two of them were doing in here, no one was going to be bothering Raymond Doyle.
Author: Merentha13
Pros-Lib / Circuit Archive: Yes
Pairing and / or characters: Doyle/Bodie
Rating: adult
Word count: 1080
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Just borrowing the lads, no copyright infringement intended
Note: Thanks Maddalia!
Catcalls and whistles let me know somethin’ was goin’ on. New prisoner. Hands thrust through the bars to “welcome” the new blood. Except the new guy in #34. His hands were relaxed, just resting on the cross bars like all this was beneath him. Uppity bastard.
Guards on either side of the shackled man warned the inmates back with their truncheons and glares. They could keep the physical touches away, but the leers and the whistles were getting’ through. Could tell that by the stiffness of the walk and the hunched shoulders. Shouldn’t show fear, darlin’. Not here.
The keepers approached my cell and I finally got a good look at our latest guest. The overhead lights lit his battered features, limp curls, dull eyes and slim build. No! It couldn’t be - could it? The Terror of Stepney Green, PC Doyle - here?
“Step back,” the guard sent the end of his club through the bars to move me back.
One unlocked the door and pushed his prisoner into the cell. They removed the chains around his ankles and wrists. I had to bite back a laugh as Doyle jumped when the cell door clicked shut behind him. Welcome to my world. He looked pretty much the same as I remembered, maybe a little worse for wear. Same cold eyes, hair a bit longer, and the damaged cheek. It was Doyle alright. The cheek hadn’t healed well. I still remember watching Preston slam Doyle’s face into the side of the dust bin in the alley, still remember the sickening sound of bone hitting the rust covered metal, the blood pouring from the wound and the soft whimper Doyle couldn’t stifle as he blacked out. We didn’t see him around after that. Rumour had him dead, or off the force, or moving up the ladder. Nothin’ I’d heard could explain what he was doin’ here now. He looked like he couldn’t believe it either. Those big eyes wide open and maybe a bit haunted. He had to know what was waiting for him when the inmates found out who he was.
“Doyle.”
He jumped and spun to face me.
“Nervous?”
He ignored my mocking tone and asked, “You know me?”
“I’m hurt, Constable, that you don’t remember me.”
He tipped his head to one side and studied me a moment. His gaze stripped me to the bone, catalogued and rejected me like the piece of rubbish he thought I was.
“I remember,” he raised a hand slowly, almost reluctantly, to his cheek and rubbed the strange lump. “Oh yeah, I remember.”
He looked around the cell, taking in the washstand, the privy, the beds. “Which one?”
“Top,” I answered.
He swung himself into the lower bunk, rolled onto his side, facing the wall, and went to sleep.
“Still cool as you please, eh Constable? We’ll see how long that lasts.”
###
Caught them in the showers this morning, Doyle and the other new one. Big good-lookin’ bloke, superior attitude with the muscles to back it up. Took a shine to our Ray right off, he did. I found blue-eyes pinning Doyle to the tiles, pressed tight against his back, hands runnin’ all over him. They were whispering something fierce. Doyle was angry; the other one, Bodie, seemed to be tryin’ to soothe ruffled feathers. I listened as best I could without bein’ seen. Mr Macho said something about takin’ advantage of the opportunity, and Doyle answered him with a dark and dirty laugh.
“C’mon, Sunshine, where else can we be this open?” Big hands slid through the suds runnin’ down Doyle’s back and followed them into the dark cleft between Doyle’s cheeks. His deep voice mocked, “We’re already in jail, what else can they do?”
Didn’t take a genius to see what was goin’ on. Strange, though, Doyle seemed to be encouraging the man, seemed to be enjoying it.
The sounds of the running water and the slap of skin on skin drown out their whispers. I was gettin’ hot watchin’. Wasn’t what you usually saw goin’ on in a place like this. It was almost, well, gentle, loving... Bodie threw his head back and groaned, the muscles in his back stood out starkly as he moved with Doyle, holding him tightly. It was pretty clear that no one else was going to get a piece of Doyle. There were “No Trespassing” signs hanging all over that one. Another groan and Doyle sagged back against Bodie’s chest.
“Bet Cowley never saw this coming,” Ray smirked. They both giggled then and stiffened when they realised they weren’t alone. If looks could kill…
I turned and hurried away, thinking about what I’d overheard. Cowley was some big name in CI5. Did those two work for him? Made sense, that did, Doyle havin’ been a copper and all. And if they did work for Cowley, what were they doing in here? Undercover? I had some checking to do. But whatever it turned out to be, I was going to stay out of the way. I’ve only got three months left in here and I’m not takin’ any chances on ruinin’ that.
###
Knew it was only a matter of time. Doyle was just too pretty for his own good. The slim build, the curly hair and angel face, and the way he moved; he looked to be begging for it. He’d held off several attempts on his virtue. One on one he was more than able to take care of himself. This time they came as a group. They’d surrounded him at breakfast, a group of four that had been following him around like vultures. He sat across the table from me and ate his meal as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Only someone who had spent time with him would’ve noticed the tension in his shoulders and around the corners of his eyes. Abrams, the lead bullyboy, reached out to run a hand through the curly hair. Doyle looked up but didn’t move. He smiled at Abrams. A large hand had settled on the back of Abram’s neck, gripping hard enough to make the man wince.
“Are these gentlemen bothering you, Raymond?” Posh as you please and the menacing warning in the smooth voice was as clear and cold as the ice blue eyes that studied us all. That decided it for me. No matter what the two of them were doing in here, no one was going to be bothering Raymond Doyle.