Slightly inside-out, but my first fic today is for
shooting2kill, who hoped for anything to do with The Third Man, please...
All Dust and Shadows
by Slantedlight
Seven o’clock, and night had fallen heavily on London, shrouded it in shadow, in secrets, in sighs. The shushing of traffic along drizzled roads, the muffled snatches of Christmas carols and jangling pop music, the occasional shout or cry or snap of laughter, it all seemed far away. In the darkness, in a doorway that hugged the shadows to itself, that covered them in the dust of the city and breathed mine, was the only movement that mattered.
Bodie pressed his face to Doyle’s neck, the denim collar of Doyle’s jacket rough against his cheek, and smelling of damp cotton. He breathed it in anyway, moved his lips over Doyle’s skin, chilled in the night air, kissed warmth onto him. He thought briefly of other doorways, of fur against his cheek, of a softly gasped liebling, but Doyle’s own gasps and rumbles of pleasure dragged him back, held him where he was, pressed into crumbling concrete and cracks of brick, arms full of warmth and life and now instead of was…
Alida Valli, he thought vaguely, then lost the strange thread in a desperate rush for air as his trousers were undone, as Doyle reached for him, strong hand around his prick, lips on his own. He fumbled with Doyle’s own belt and jeans, shoving fabric down, away, out of the way, of his way… There he thought, feeling heat and hardness and urgency, as if every move he made on Doyle’s skin sent his own blood rushing, filled his balls, his prick, his… his heart even further.
Somewhere far away a siren rose in the December air, slicing its way through the dampness of the night, the Christmas cold, sharp and shrill. Perhaps in other doorways there were deals being done and secrets being sold, but in this doorway, in these shadows, Bodie’s world paused and he gasped, and he came in Doyle’s hand, against Doyle’s skin, with a sigh that met Doyle’s own, and an echo of old memories… Liverpool for the cup, he thought, face stretching into a smile as he let himself close his eyes, lean heavily against Doyle’s shuddering length, love.
After a moment he pushed himself away, smiled at Doyle too, began to get himself sorted out, and as Doyle finally moved, to brush cheerfully at his be-grimed backside.
Dust and shadows, he thought, and then he sneezed.
Title: Dust and Shadows
Author: Slantedlight
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Certainly
Disclaimer: Neither the lads nor the CI5 universe belong to me...
All Dust and Shadows
by Slantedlight
Seven o’clock, and night had fallen heavily on London, shrouded it in shadow, in secrets, in sighs. The shushing of traffic along drizzled roads, the muffled snatches of Christmas carols and jangling pop music, the occasional shout or cry or snap of laughter, it all seemed far away. In the darkness, in a doorway that hugged the shadows to itself, that covered them in the dust of the city and breathed mine, was the only movement that mattered.
Bodie pressed his face to Doyle’s neck, the denim collar of Doyle’s jacket rough against his cheek, and smelling of damp cotton. He breathed it in anyway, moved his lips over Doyle’s skin, chilled in the night air, kissed warmth onto him. He thought briefly of other doorways, of fur against his cheek, of a softly gasped liebling, but Doyle’s own gasps and rumbles of pleasure dragged him back, held him where he was, pressed into crumbling concrete and cracks of brick, arms full of warmth and life and now instead of was…
Alida Valli, he thought vaguely, then lost the strange thread in a desperate rush for air as his trousers were undone, as Doyle reached for him, strong hand around his prick, lips on his own. He fumbled with Doyle’s own belt and jeans, shoving fabric down, away, out of the way, of his way… There he thought, feeling heat and hardness and urgency, as if every move he made on Doyle’s skin sent his own blood rushing, filled his balls, his prick, his… his heart even further.
Somewhere far away a siren rose in the December air, slicing its way through the dampness of the night, the Christmas cold, sharp and shrill. Perhaps in other doorways there were deals being done and secrets being sold, but in this doorway, in these shadows, Bodie’s world paused and he gasped, and he came in Doyle’s hand, against Doyle’s skin, with a sigh that met Doyle’s own, and an echo of old memories… Liverpool for the cup, he thought, face stretching into a smile as he let himself close his eyes, lean heavily against Doyle’s shuddering length, love.
After a moment he pushed himself away, smiled at Doyle too, began to get himself sorted out, and as Doyle finally moved, to brush cheerfully at his be-grimed backside.
Dust and shadows, he thought, and then he sneezed.
Title: Dust and Shadows
Author: Slantedlight
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Certainly
Disclaimer: Neither the lads nor the CI5 universe belong to me...
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Date: 2011-12-21 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-12-21 02:21 pm (UTC)Lovely, thank you.
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