"Sit up and wrap your hands around this."

Doyle blinks himself semi-upright and stares at the mug.

"Wrap 'em around something else, if you like."

He tries a leer, but what with the watery eyes, unwashed hair and red nose, it's not a particularly tempting offer.

Bodie thinks about actually petting him, but he can wait.

Twenty minutes later, the Lemsip is in, and Bodie has a furnace plastered to his ribs.

"Always so cold," slurs Doyle, pressing into his neck. "'S nice."

Bodie sighs, squeezes, all mock sufferance.

Truth be told, he rather likes a Doyle on Lemsips.

'Scuse the long title, but it saves on the need for a summary of any kind as it does just what it says on the tin.*g*

Happy Holidays everyone xxxxxxx

( Four Times Bodie Might As Well Have Said ‘I Love You’, And One Time He Actually Did )

A day early, but PC is going in for a check up tomorrow, so let's just cross some fingers and do this now.*g*

Thomas Aquinas said of gluttony : “(It) denotes…an inordinate desire…leaving the order of reason.”
( An Inordinate Desire )