Towelling his hair dry, Doyle strolled into the bedroom and found Bodie still lying naked on the rumpled bed. One arm behind his head, a leg slightly bent and his cock half-hard, the golden light from a dazzling sunset was filtering through the window, gilding him with an amber glow.
Doyle tried to ignore the erotic image and accompanying surge of desire. “Come on, handsome,” he said, chucking the towel back towards the bathroom, “shift yourself... we’ve gotta leave soon.”
Bodie smiled at him and held out his hand. “C’mere first,” he said lazily.
“Haven’t got time to mess about,” Doyle told him mock-sternly, but padded over to the side of the bed anyway.
“Who said anything about messing about?” asked Bodie innocently as he took Doyle’s hand and brought it to his lips, softly kissing Doyle’s fingers.
“Don’t go getting any ideas...” Doyle warned, even as the thrum of desire increased at his groin.
Bodie tugged gently at the towel wrapped around Doyle’s hips. “But I want you,” he said with a sultry look, and pulled the fabric so the towel slid to the floor.
“You had me twenty minutes ago, and I’ve just had a shower...” Doyle pointed out, knowing it was a lost cause as Bodie’s hand started to caress him.
“Kneel over me,” Bodie urged huskily, pulling Doyle towards him, and how could Doyle refuse? His body seemed to have forgotten they’d spent the afternoon fucking, his cock now hard again and aching for attention.
Doyle slipped a leg across Bodie’s chest and knelt above him. He looked down and watched as Bodie’s tongue trailed along the length of his erection and swirled around the head, and dark blue eyes flicked up and held Doyle’s gaze.
And when Bodie’s lips closed around him, sliding down to engulf him fully, again and again, Doyle couldn’t hold back a moan... oh, so good... With one arm braced against the wall, he thrust helplessly into the moist warmth, the slick suction gripping him so perfectly, his cock demanding more and deeper...
He watched, mesmerised, as he slid in and out of Bodie’s mouth... And at the same time he was aware of the rhythmic motion of Bodie fisting his own cock... Bodie wanking himself off while his mouth was being fucked by Doyle’s cock... Oh God... too good, too fucking good... gonna come...
“So, you decided to turn up then...” Benny welcomed them airily, stepping aside to let them into his house.
“Yeah, sorry, mate,” Bodie replied. “Would’ve been here earlier, only er...” he nodded towards Doyle, “my chauffeur was running late...”
Doyle threw Bodie a glance that promised retribution. A shared shower to save time had, unsurprisingly, had the opposite effect. With the outside world forgotten, they'd lingered under the spray, tenderly kissing and touching until the water ran cold.
“Errr, yeah... sorry, lost track of time,” Doyle muttered.
“Well you’ve missed my extremely witty speech,” Benny told them. “Wanted to get it out the way so I could get pissed,” he smiled happily, raising the champagne flute he was holding in salute.
“Very wise, old son. Booze this way, is it?” Doyle headed down the hall.
Benny’s party was in full swing, the modest living room full of people chatting and laughing over the music. The furniture had been pushed against the walls and a table set up on one side for the booze and record player.
Doyle said hello to various agents and colleagues as he weaved his way through the smoky atmosphere to the table of drinks. He plonked his carrier bag of beers down, making the needle jump on “Super Trouper”, and plucked a beer from its plastic holder.
“Don’t forget you’re driving,” Bodie said, appearing beside him and helping himself to a can, the waft of familiar aftershave an aphrodisiac to Doyle.
“Yeah, alright, I can still have a couple,” said Doyle, defiantly snapping open the tin and taking a swig from it. “And don’t you overdo it. If you can’t walk by the end of the night, I’m not carrying you.”
“You wouldn’t leave me here and go home on your own...” Bodie said plaintively.
“Try me,” Doyle retorted.
“You’d miss me if I wasn’t there...” Bodie challenged softly.
That was true, but there was no reason to admit such a thing. Doyle glanced around to check no-one could overhear. “What, miss you taking up all my bed like some kind of overgrown bloody octopus, and keeping me awake with your snoring..?” he asked in disbelief. “Don’t think so, mate. Be nice to have the bed to myself for a change,” he added.
Not fooled for a moment, Bodie grinned. “Yep, you’d definitely miss me,” he said confidently. “Anyway, I’m not gonna get too drunk... got plans for later,” he winked, before wandering off and leaving Doyle trying to dampen down the flame of arousal at the prospect of “later”.
Doyle mingled with the other guests, chatting easily with friends and new acquaintances, all there to celebrate Benny’s engagement to the lovely Sarah. But his eyes were constantly drawn across the room, seeking out Bodie.
Dressed in tight black trousers, black shirt and a cream jacket, Bodie was a dominating presence in the room. Whether he was deep in conversation with Jack Craine, making Charlie and Mac laugh raucously, or flirting with the girls, who would giggle and flirt back hopefully, Doyle took a proprietary pleasure watching him.
But Bodie’s eyes sought him out too, catching his gaze across the room, and speaking volumes with just a look.
It was long past midnight, and with the party thinned out a bit, they’d managed to get a corner of the room to themselves.
“Whose bright idea was it to put Murphy in charge of the music?” Doyle asked disapprovingly, as Stand and Deliver started playing.
“Doing his Tony Blackburn bit, isn’t he, trying to impress Benny’s sister,” said Bodie, gesturing over towards the brunette flicking through a box of records next to Murphy.
“What, with Adam and the Ants?”
“There’s no accounting for taste,” said Bodie philosophically.
“Yeah, true enough... and I should know,” said Doyle, with a smile of amusement as he eyed his partner.
“You have excellent taste,” Bodie stated. “At least, you do now,” he added.
“Oh, I see… and there was me thinking my standards had dropped...”
“Ray,” said Bodie, very casually, “I’ve been thinking…”
“I’ve warned you about that,” said Doyle, taking a sip of his orange juice.
“I want people to know.”
Doyle leaned against the wall. “I’ve got a lot of talents, Bodie, as you can testify,” he said, “but mind-reading isn’t one of them. You want people to know what, exactly?”
Doyle covered his surprise. “Reckon you’ve had one sherry too many, mate.”
Bodie shook his head. “I mean it... don’t want to hide it anymore,” he said simply.
“You’ve changed your tune, what’s brought this on, then?” asked Doyle.
Bodie had the grace to look slightly abashed and glanced down at his glass. “Just feels right. Cowley knows... so why not everyone else? Got nothing to be ashamed of.”
“’s not what you said three months ago.”
“I was never ashamed, Doyle, you know that!” Bodie said hotly.
“Yeah, I know,” Doyle agreed.
“Just wanted a bit of time,” Bodie went on, “that’s all.”
Doyle tried to hold back a smile. Yeah, despite his frustration at Bodie’s original insistence they didn’t tell anyone, he’d known Bodie just wasn’t ready for it. Doyle had accepted that... strongly suspected even, that Bodie’s caution was his way of protecting their new relationship. A sign of how much it meant to him.
“No going back once we do, you know?” Doyle warned.
Bodie nodded. “Fine by me,” he said happily.
“Fair enough,” said Doyle, with feigned nonchalance. “So, how shall we do it? Could put on a bit of a floor show here... or perhaps stick an announcement on the notice board at work...? Think I’d prefer the floor show option, myself,” he added mildly.
Bodie rolled his eyes. “Perhaps something a little more subtle...”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“Like word of mouth,” suggested Bodie, just as Benny lurched up to them.
“One for the album, boys?” Benny asked, swaying slightly. He had a camera and cigarette in one hand, and a tumbler of whisky in the other. “Thought it’d be nice to get a few snaps of the occasion... Sarah’s idea... you know what birds are like, all sentimental...”
“No problem,” replied Bodie, putting his arm round Doyle and pulling him close. “As long as we can have a copy for our album,” he said, giving Doyle’s shoulder a visible squeeze.
Benny looked at them. His lazy smile slowly slid into a confused frown as he registered what Bodie had said and took in the possessive pose and relaxed smiles, how their bodies were pressed tightly together. His eyes moved suspiciously between the two of them. “Just the one album...?” he ventured.
They both nodded.
“You mean... you two... you’re... together?”
Bodie turned to Doyle, “Not as slow as he looks, is he?”
“Well he couldn’t be, could he?” responded Doyle.
Benny gave them a lop-sided grin, “Piss off... you’re havin’ me on!”
“We’re not,” said Doyle, laughing.
“Yeah, yeah... course you’re not, whatever you say. Right, come on, stop messing about, here we go...” Benny managed to bring the camera up to his eye without singeing his hair or spilling his drink. “Big smiles... say cheese...” he prompted.
“You were right, Doyle, should’ve given them a floor show...” said Bodie as the flash went off.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in his three-piece suit, Doyle slid the photo out of its album pocket, smiling fondly. He remembered every moment of that day - and night – like it was yesterday. They’d been heady days, action-filled and lust-fuelled, exhilarating and intoxicating... or at least that’s how it seemed to him now, looking back.
He flipped the photo over to read the scribble on the back:
Benny’s Engagement PartyOur Coming Out, 23 June ‘81.
Christ, if anyone had told him back then, that he and Bodie would not only still be together twenty-five years on, but be getting married, for want of a better word... well, he’d never have bloody believed it.
Not that they hadn’t had plenty of... challenges... along the way, to say the least. One time in particular, they’d even split up for a year... until Bodie, with a highly effective combination of pleading, demanding and coaxing had convinced Doyle to forgive him and give it another go… That was nearly twenty years ago now...
“Ray, what’s taking so long? The car’ll be here any minute...” Bodie’s voice wafted up the stairs, breaking Doyle’s reverie.
“Yeah, alright,” he shouted back. “Be down in a sec…”
“Not changing your mind, are you? Gonna jilt me at the altar?”
“Seeing as we’re travelling there together, and there isn’t even going to be an altar, it’s not likely, is it?” Doyle yelled. “Not that I’d want to anyway,” he felt strangely compelled to add.
“Glad to hear it,” Bodie called back. “Spent ages organising today, don’t want to phone everyone up and tell them it’s off...” His voice faded as he went back into the living room.
Doyle took another look at the front of the photo. Brave of them to decide not to hide their relationship in those days. Perhaps, in a small way, by being open they’d helped the progress of acceptance and equality. Things had certainly changed since then.
And this afternoon they’d be legally joined together.
Bodie, the daft sod, was insisting they have something old, new, borrowed and blue. Their rings were new, they were borrowing each other’s cufflinks, and Bodie had taken care of the blue by putting a couple of Viagra into his suit pocket.
Smiling, Doyle slipped the old photo into his inside pocket and closed the album. Standing up, he checked his reflection in the full-length mirror. Not bad, he decided, adjusting his tie, not bad at all. Bodie was getting himself quite a catch… And yeah, he wasn’t doing too badly out of the deal either, he thought with a grin.
And he couldn’t wait.
It was funny, he hadn’t expected to feel this excited, but... well, it felt important to him, like the perfect way to formally seal their commitment…
He shook his head at himself; no doubt about it, he was going soft in his old age... next thing he’d be suggesting they join their names together, too.
Mind you, now that he thought about it, ‘William & Raymond Bodie-Doyle’ didn’t sound that bad, had a nice rhythm to it, actually... not to mention it would get right up the noses of some of those crusty old disapproving bastards in Whitehall...
Doyle darted out of the room. “Bodie!” he shouted, jogging down the stairs, “I’ve just had a great idea…!”