discoveredinalj | Discovered in the Wrapping Paper - Day 12 - Sweet Nothings by Liz Bradford (Reply)

Sweet Nothings
Liz Bradford
Yeah, he could certainly get used to this.

Momentarily hypnotised by the expression of total abandon on his lover's face, Bodie watched the effect his words were having on the man writhing beneath him. He was still as amazed now as when he'd first discovered this new side to Doyle.

Sweet nothings had never meant that much to him in the past, and it had come as a great surprise to discover that he had his own need for them, although that fact had only become apparent when Doyle's laryngitis had rendered their lovemaking all but silent. The lack of sound had affected him deeply, distracting him at all the wrong moments. Without realising, he had become used to hearing Doyle's enjoyment: his vocal encouragement, the words of rough affection, and the passionate outbursts that heralded the peak of his sexual pleasure.

Maybe it was because Doyle had never gone in for the mushy stuff. There'd been no soppy platitudes, no tender outpourings of undying love, no flowery phrases of juvenile infatuation. Just the pure, unadulterated, down-to-earth coarseness that was Ray Doyle.

And Bodie had missed it.

At first, with the onset of the illness, Bodie had been unable to resist teasing. Well, he couldn't miss an opportunity like that, now could he? Doyle voiceless, unable to utter a word? The world had become Bodie's oyster, and there had been no way he was going to let a pearl that precious slip through his fingers unappreciated. After all, the likelihood of this disease striking Doyle ever again was as remote as a rocking horse winning the Derby.

Even the glares of undiluted venom that had sparked from the expressive, green eyes had not prevented his wholehearted enjoyment of the licence he took to speak for his partner, saying anything and everything that was likely to cause Doyle the maximum amount of embarrassment.

He had been well aware that retribution would be swift, and deadly. But until that evil moment arrived, he had been happy to score whatever points he could, declining to think about what form his undoubted punishment would take, the future something he preferred not to second guess.

However he couldn't get away from the fact that the one area where Doyle's silence had adversely affected him was in bed. He missed that rough voice egging him on, missed the sound of his lover’s panted curses as he strove for fulfilment, and the loud cries that sent shudders across his own skin, Doyle's pleasure becoming his own.

And there had been no way around it - or so he had thought. Then he'd had his bright idea. He would fill in whilst Doyle was ill. He would supply the required words and banish the silence that irked him so much.

Though he had been tentative at first, the effect on Doyle had been startling: a new element entering their lovemaking. Now, it was less of a battle, rewarding though those were, and more like a dance, full of physical delight.

There was a kind of tenderness without words which was obviously acceptable to his partner; Doyle's enthusiasm no longer the energetic actions of a man merely enjoying sexual release, more a deeper feeling of thoughtfulness; his touch a caress, his facial expressions a book Bodie could read with elated ease.

And he found that he liked it. In fact, if he was totally truthful, he craved it and was slightly worried that they would lose this new intimacy once Ray found his voice. The old Doyle was magic, true enough, but this even more vibrant and sensual version of his lover was incandescent, habit forming even.

A pinch on the arse recalling him to the present, Bodie applied himself to the bum in hand. Gratifyingly responsive, Doyle arched beneath him, his breath held in tortured anticipation. The very sight of his surrender to rapture sent shivers of reciprocal excitement flooding through Bodie, a moan of pleasure sliding past his lips as his own orgasm was ripped from him, Doyle collapsing back, shuddering with expended energy.

Clinging to his lover in the aftermath, Bodie knew he would have to be content with his lot. If he couldn't keep this new Ray, then he would treasure him whilst it lasted and, rubbing his cheek against Doyle's shoulder, he kissed the nape of his neck.

Having always been a man who lived for the moment, he could only hope that if he continued to whisper sweet nothings, even the return of Ray's voice would not end these new, more exhilarating yet sensuous encounters.

Happy with these future plans for his lover, he sighed deeply, hugged the sated body lying in his arms, and sank into slumber.

o0o

"Yes, sir," Doyle answered, keeping his voice low. "Much better. Should be fit for tomorrow. We'll be in at seven."

Toying with the telephone cable as he listened to Cowley's taciturn comments, he had to smile. The Controller of C15 was obviously pleased that he would have both members of his top team back in action, but was loath to actually put the sentiment into words.

"No, no after-effects," he added, mildly amused as he recognised the well-disguised concern in Cowley's voice. "My throat," he paused and grinned, "and my voice, are just fine now."

As the Controller rang off, Doyle replaced the receiver gently and returned to the bedroom, rejoining his lover in the warmth of the double bed.

Yes, everything was just fine now. He doubted if Bodie would ever be the strong, silent type in bed ever again. Still, it was a shame he couldn't have spun the laryngitis out even longer. And he still had to find some way to pay the bugger back for all the trouble he'd landed him in.

There was just one thing.

He was actually more than happy with the results his illness had achieved, solving as it had the knotty problem of how to push their relationship that one step further, up onto that higher level of intimacy that would change their relationship from friends who fucked to soul-mates who loved.

How could he possibly pay Bodie back in kind, when the silly sod had inadvertently given him everything he had been wanting for months?

The faint glimmering of an idea beginning to blossom, Doyle closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his peacefully sleeping, and unsuspecting lover.

Full bloom took place several seconds later.

There really was no need to think up some intricate, possibly expensive, and no doubt messy retribution. How about if he did sweet nothing at all - it would drive his partner out of his mind with frustration, and what could be a better plan than that?

o0o

Title: Sweet Nothings
Author: Liz Bradford
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes please
Disclaimer: Bodie, Doyle and the CI5-verse is only somewhere we play, not somewhere we work or profit from in any way other than joy.