Wrote a short, slashy story.
Feb. 21st, 2015 12:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boothrosHealing
"Ray? Ray, I'm so sorry, it's happened again."
Forced awake three hours before his due alarm clock, Ray Doyle quickly came to consciousness mentally wiping the fuzziness from his mind.
"Sorry, Ray, I didn't want to wake you," came the subdued voice from the opposite bed.
Dismayed at the cautious sadness he heard in his partner’s voice, he was by Bodie's side in an instant.
"Hey, mate, it’s fine, come on, it's nothing we can't get sorted out, is it, eh?"
He helped Bodie to hoist to himself up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. With a bit of manoeuvring, he managed to get him into the wheelchair and shucked the damp pyjama bottoms from the slightly trembling form. He towelled down the lower half of his partner’s pale body before pushing the chair over to his own twin bed.
"Far too early to get up yet, Sunshine, you can hop in with me for a few hours."
Wincing at his own ill-chosen words, he helped Bodie into the three quarter sized bed which would have been far too small for the both of them under normal circumstances. With Bodie's withered frame as it was, however, the bed was cosy if not quite spacious. Checking that Bodie was tucked in and comfortable, he turned back to the wreck of the bed that his partner had just vacated. He efficiently stripped the sodden sheets and blankets.
"I'll be back in five minutes, mate, try and drop off if you can."
Knowing that Bodie would find further sleep impossible, Doyle carried his burden of washing through to the kitchen. Stuffing the spoilt bedding into the machine he set it off on a boil wash. Planting himself on a bar stool, he reached for his packet of Silk Cut. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Looking out at the dimly encroaching dawn, his face was blank. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep either, but giving the appearance of normality was as important as anything else. Sighing, he stubbed out his smoke and returned to the bedroom.
Bodie was currently laying on his side. Knowing that this situation wouldn't last much longer, Doyle took advantage, slipped in behind him and snaked an arm around his skinny waist, revelling in the cosy intimacy. Sure enough, as Doyle knew he would, within ten minutes, Bodie indicated his need to turn over.
"Sorry, Ray." he whispered, his voice distraught.
"Don't be daft, Bodie, it’s fine. Come on let’s get you turned."
They struggled until Bodie was lying flat. The first of many movements in an attempt to bring him comfort which would rob them of any rest for the remainder of their night. Bodie couldn't quite hide the sharp intake of breath that the manoeuvre caused. Doyle cursed an injury that could rob a man of all feeling below his waist yet still cause so much intense pain. It was, however, too early for him to administer painkillers and too late for sleeping pills. Resigned to their fate of tossing, turning and murmuring gentle reassurances, Doyle closed his eyes, only imagining the pleasure that sleep would bring.
****************************************
They had danced around each other for months.
If either had noticed that the little touches had become just that tiny bit more intimate, the looks that bit more lingering, then neither of them had mentioned it. Somewhere along the line, the fluttering of pretty bird’s wings had quieted, both Bodie and Doyle dating less women in favour of enjoying each other’s company instead. The inevitability of their professional partnership turning into something entirely more personal was something they had both still tentatively held at arm’s length. The thrill of the chase and the excitement of the secret knowledge still thrumming through their veins, they both held off from taking the final plunge. Neither quite ready to admit to himself that he was falling in love, they flirted and teased, gently stringing out the courtship towards it’s exquisite conclusion.
The O'Neill op changed all that.
Bodie had been working the case undercover for a month. It was a small cell, remarkable easy to infiltrate, Bodie quickly establishing that the group was made up of wannabe's and has been's. With their lack of experience and finesse, they were if anything, pathetically grateful for Bodie's input. Bodie had been brought in as a driver when their previous man, Declan, had unfortunately been involved in a dubious hit and run rendering him out of action for the foreseeable. A few words in the right ears had secured Bodie's place and before long he was sharing his knowledge of tactics and weaponry with his impressed new audience.
For all their ineptitude, the group of loyalists were still dangerous. They had enough guns to manage to put holes in people and were gradually managing to amass themselves a small cache of explosives. Enough in fact to put a few holes in buildings. Though their plan to blow up a provincial bank vault in order to boost their funds was basically flawed, it was still a threat which Bodie took seriously. The bank job was big enough to put the older group members away for the rest of their useful working lives. The younger ones would probably be out within ten years having learned lessons which they would never forget.
Cowley had assigned Doyle as leader of the task force which would bring the cell down at the eleventh hour. Bodie had covertly provided CI5 with all the necessary data needed to cover the bank raid, along with details of associates who currently thought themselves too aloof to yet do business with O'Neill and his so far unproven gang. Bodie had also wired the switches and timers for the IEDs himself knowing they could cause only limited damage when called upon to do their job.
It was at the tenth hour that one of the associates coming along for the ride, recognised Bodie as being a former British foot soldier on the streets of Belfast some ten years before. The recognition was almost the downfall of CI5's operation, Shaun O'Neill realising just a fraction too late how Bodie had betrayed him. The anticipated round up turned in a shootout which denied three of the group their chance to engage in Her Majesty's pleasures. The miss had been a near one and after the clean-up crew had cleaned up and gone away, Bodie and Doyle found themselves on their own. With his joy at having his partner back unharmed wrapping itself around him, Doyle was no longer willing to hide his love light under a bushel. He grabbed Bodie and kissed him with all the pent up frustration, fear and love that had built up over the last lonely month. An ecstatic Bodie returned the kiss enthusiastically, his tongue duelling with Doyle's in the age old ritual of dawning pleasure.
Had they not been so completely concentrated on each other, so unaware of anyone or anything else around them, they might have considered the possibility of Sammy O'Neill's presence.
Sammy was not a bright boy. Nobody ever gave him credit for anything and he had come to not expect any. This simple fact did not however detract him from his total devotion to anything that his revered uncle did or said. Knowing that he was not allowed to participate in Shaun O'Neill's activities and being constantly told that 'his time would come' was not on this occasion enough to stop him coming. Sneaking into the back of the van with a Walther P38 stolen from his uncle’s arsenal, had perhaps not been his smartest idea. Surrounded by the primed bombs, he had felt more than a little vulnerable. Having survived the journey however, he suddenly felt invincible, the excitement of the planned raid coursing through him. Seeing his beloved uncle shot to death from his hiding place, shattered Sammy. Even with his limited attention span, he managed to ascertain that the driver, Bodie had been the betrayer. Still shaking with pain and rage, he was stunned when he spied the same man in the shadows kissing another man. Aiming and firing a gun for the first time in his young life, Sammy's intended head shot was slightly off, but he still managed to plant a hit into the side of Bodie's thigh. With lightning speed, Doyle drew his gun and had put a bullet between Sammy's startled eyes before he even had the chance to think about it.
******************************************
It was not the gunshot wound that had brought about Bodie's devastating condition but the fall that had resulted from it. Blown away by the force of the unanticipated bullet, Bodie had smacked onto a concrete floor. The resulting injuries to his back had required surgery. The shattered fragments from a fractured vertebra had been painstaking removed from their precarious landing places. There was no reason for the doctors to assume that the operation had been anything but a complete success. They were therefore dismayed when after three weeks, Bodie still had no feeling or function in his lower body. After waving away their patient with assurances that 'time healed' and that 'anything was possible' they more or less washed their hands of him.
Cowley had considered the wisdom of returning Doyle to active status without his partner. Knowing that four five’s concentration would remain with Bodie and only Bodie wherever he placed the man, he pulled strings. Ensuring that both men would still receive their pay, he somehow found for them an adapted bungalow in a quiet, safe area. The bungalow though depressingly soulless, was functional and practical. Within it’s walls, Bodie and Doyle slowly learned how to manage their new situation.
Bodie was nothing if not a stoic man. The threat of death or disablement had always dogged his career. He had probably amassed enough savings to keep himself in food and private nursing if he was willing to forgo the finer thing things in life. The issue which plagued his mind however was the constant presence of his partner. Though he told Doyle to go a thousand times a day in his head, his mouth could never form the words. He had lusted over Doyle's body and loved his mind for so many years that the pain of seeing Ray walk from his life was far sharper than anything his abused spine could throw at him. He woke crying in the night at their lost opportunities. Dreaming of a life of intimacy with Doyle was quite different to the new reality. They were closer now than they had ever been but instead of taking themselves to the giddy heights of sexual pleasure, their daily routine involved poor Ray helping Bodie to the toilet and administering his pills. Their closeness was complete but in the furthest way that Bodie could have imagined. There was no bodily function that Bodie had performed without Doyle's detached observation. Bodie had even to both their surprise, acquired erections which he had neither felt nor enjoyed. And through it all, though his care and kindness knew no bounds, it was obvious to Bodie that Ray didn't fancy him anymore.
Guilt had never been a stranger in Doyle's life. The fact that his rash actions had caused his best friend and would be lover to be hurt so badly, plagued his every thought. He knew that Bodie hated the care that he was so willing to bestow and he felt guilty about that too. He'd felt so near and so ready to receive the love that Bodie had wanted to give him that he added sexual frustration to his list of problems. When Bodie was otherwise engaged at his out patient’s appointments or busy with the physiotherapist, Doyle would masturbate with memories of Bodie's beautiful working body in his mind. This simple pleasure would cause the guilt to eat at his conscious for days afterwards. Desperate to touch his partner in more than a functional way caused Doyle to hate himself all the more. He adopted a strictly hands off approach as often as he was able, though it was far from easy for him to do.
**************************************
The alarm shrilled, heralding the start of the new day. Doyle slapped at it viciously suddenly realising that amazingly, they had both actually slept. As he raised the covers intending to go to the bathroom, his eyes caught the sight of his dozing partner. Bodie was a mass of wasted muscle and smelled ever so faintly of piss, but was still as beautiful to Doyle as he had ever been.
For once, unable to stop himself, Doyle stroked the pale face and gently kissed Bodie's forehead. Quite unwilling to stop now that he had started, he trailed feather light kisses down Bodie's torso. Stopping when he got to his partners flaccid penis, he stared at it longingly. Quite what made him do it, he never knew but before he could stop himself, he was kissing and sucking the organ like a man possessed. The sudden twitch of response shocked Doyle back to his senses. Startled by what he had done, Doyle looked up to see Bodie's mesmerized eyes looking down at him.
"Please, don't stop, Sunshine. I.... I can feel you. I can actually bloody feel you!"
Laughing and crying at the same time, Doyle was only too happy to oblige. It was all over in a matter of seconds and left Doyle with another armload of laundry. It was the first step however in Bodie's healing, the first day of the rest of their lives.
Though the recovery would be long, arduous and at times frustrating, Bodie now knew that he had something to live for. Someone to get better for. He hadn't lost Doyle's love at all, it had just been hidden amongst the grief and pain and guilt.
Though their lives may change in unexpected ways, Bodie and Doyle got what they had always wanted, always needed, each other. Life would be for a while at least, a struggle, but through better or worse, in sickness and health they would face it. Bound by a love they had so very nearly lost, they headed into their future. Together, as they had always had been.
********************
"Ray? Ray, I'm so sorry, it's happened again."
Forced awake three hours before his due alarm clock, Ray Doyle quickly came to consciousness mentally wiping the fuzziness from his mind.
"Sorry, Ray, I didn't want to wake you," came the subdued voice from the opposite bed.
Dismayed at the cautious sadness he heard in his partner’s voice, he was by Bodie's side in an instant.
"Hey, mate, it’s fine, come on, it's nothing we can't get sorted out, is it, eh?"
He helped Bodie to hoist to himself up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. With a bit of manoeuvring, he managed to get him into the wheelchair and shucked the damp pyjama bottoms from the slightly trembling form. He towelled down the lower half of his partner’s pale body before pushing the chair over to his own twin bed.
"Far too early to get up yet, Sunshine, you can hop in with me for a few hours."
Wincing at his own ill-chosen words, he helped Bodie into the three quarter sized bed which would have been far too small for the both of them under normal circumstances. With Bodie's withered frame as it was, however, the bed was cosy if not quite spacious. Checking that Bodie was tucked in and comfortable, he turned back to the wreck of the bed that his partner had just vacated. He efficiently stripped the sodden sheets and blankets.
"I'll be back in five minutes, mate, try and drop off if you can."
Knowing that Bodie would find further sleep impossible, Doyle carried his burden of washing through to the kitchen. Stuffing the spoilt bedding into the machine he set it off on a boil wash. Planting himself on a bar stool, he reached for his packet of Silk Cut. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Looking out at the dimly encroaching dawn, his face was blank. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep either, but giving the appearance of normality was as important as anything else. Sighing, he stubbed out his smoke and returned to the bedroom.
Bodie was currently laying on his side. Knowing that this situation wouldn't last much longer, Doyle took advantage, slipped in behind him and snaked an arm around his skinny waist, revelling in the cosy intimacy. Sure enough, as Doyle knew he would, within ten minutes, Bodie indicated his need to turn over.
"Sorry, Ray." he whispered, his voice distraught.
"Don't be daft, Bodie, it’s fine. Come on let’s get you turned."
They struggled until Bodie was lying flat. The first of many movements in an attempt to bring him comfort which would rob them of any rest for the remainder of their night. Bodie couldn't quite hide the sharp intake of breath that the manoeuvre caused. Doyle cursed an injury that could rob a man of all feeling below his waist yet still cause so much intense pain. It was, however, too early for him to administer painkillers and too late for sleeping pills. Resigned to their fate of tossing, turning and murmuring gentle reassurances, Doyle closed his eyes, only imagining the pleasure that sleep would bring.
****************************************
They had danced around each other for months.
If either had noticed that the little touches had become just that tiny bit more intimate, the looks that bit more lingering, then neither of them had mentioned it. Somewhere along the line, the fluttering of pretty bird’s wings had quieted, both Bodie and Doyle dating less women in favour of enjoying each other’s company instead. The inevitability of their professional partnership turning into something entirely more personal was something they had both still tentatively held at arm’s length. The thrill of the chase and the excitement of the secret knowledge still thrumming through their veins, they both held off from taking the final plunge. Neither quite ready to admit to himself that he was falling in love, they flirted and teased, gently stringing out the courtship towards it’s exquisite conclusion.
The O'Neill op changed all that.
Bodie had been working the case undercover for a month. It was a small cell, remarkable easy to infiltrate, Bodie quickly establishing that the group was made up of wannabe's and has been's. With their lack of experience and finesse, they were if anything, pathetically grateful for Bodie's input. Bodie had been brought in as a driver when their previous man, Declan, had unfortunately been involved in a dubious hit and run rendering him out of action for the foreseeable. A few words in the right ears had secured Bodie's place and before long he was sharing his knowledge of tactics and weaponry with his impressed new audience.
For all their ineptitude, the group of loyalists were still dangerous. They had enough guns to manage to put holes in people and were gradually managing to amass themselves a small cache of explosives. Enough in fact to put a few holes in buildings. Though their plan to blow up a provincial bank vault in order to boost their funds was basically flawed, it was still a threat which Bodie took seriously. The bank job was big enough to put the older group members away for the rest of their useful working lives. The younger ones would probably be out within ten years having learned lessons which they would never forget.
Cowley had assigned Doyle as leader of the task force which would bring the cell down at the eleventh hour. Bodie had covertly provided CI5 with all the necessary data needed to cover the bank raid, along with details of associates who currently thought themselves too aloof to yet do business with O'Neill and his so far unproven gang. Bodie had also wired the switches and timers for the IEDs himself knowing they could cause only limited damage when called upon to do their job.
It was at the tenth hour that one of the associates coming along for the ride, recognised Bodie as being a former British foot soldier on the streets of Belfast some ten years before. The recognition was almost the downfall of CI5's operation, Shaun O'Neill realising just a fraction too late how Bodie had betrayed him. The anticipated round up turned in a shootout which denied three of the group their chance to engage in Her Majesty's pleasures. The miss had been a near one and after the clean-up crew had cleaned up and gone away, Bodie and Doyle found themselves on their own. With his joy at having his partner back unharmed wrapping itself around him, Doyle was no longer willing to hide his love light under a bushel. He grabbed Bodie and kissed him with all the pent up frustration, fear and love that had built up over the last lonely month. An ecstatic Bodie returned the kiss enthusiastically, his tongue duelling with Doyle's in the age old ritual of dawning pleasure.
Had they not been so completely concentrated on each other, so unaware of anyone or anything else around them, they might have considered the possibility of Sammy O'Neill's presence.
Sammy was not a bright boy. Nobody ever gave him credit for anything and he had come to not expect any. This simple fact did not however detract him from his total devotion to anything that his revered uncle did or said. Knowing that he was not allowed to participate in Shaun O'Neill's activities and being constantly told that 'his time would come' was not on this occasion enough to stop him coming. Sneaking into the back of the van with a Walther P38 stolen from his uncle’s arsenal, had perhaps not been his smartest idea. Surrounded by the primed bombs, he had felt more than a little vulnerable. Having survived the journey however, he suddenly felt invincible, the excitement of the planned raid coursing through him. Seeing his beloved uncle shot to death from his hiding place, shattered Sammy. Even with his limited attention span, he managed to ascertain that the driver, Bodie had been the betrayer. Still shaking with pain and rage, he was stunned when he spied the same man in the shadows kissing another man. Aiming and firing a gun for the first time in his young life, Sammy's intended head shot was slightly off, but he still managed to plant a hit into the side of Bodie's thigh. With lightning speed, Doyle drew his gun and had put a bullet between Sammy's startled eyes before he even had the chance to think about it.
******************************************
It was not the gunshot wound that had brought about Bodie's devastating condition but the fall that had resulted from it. Blown away by the force of the unanticipated bullet, Bodie had smacked onto a concrete floor. The resulting injuries to his back had required surgery. The shattered fragments from a fractured vertebra had been painstaking removed from their precarious landing places. There was no reason for the doctors to assume that the operation had been anything but a complete success. They were therefore dismayed when after three weeks, Bodie still had no feeling or function in his lower body. After waving away their patient with assurances that 'time healed' and that 'anything was possible' they more or less washed their hands of him.
Cowley had considered the wisdom of returning Doyle to active status without his partner. Knowing that four five’s concentration would remain with Bodie and only Bodie wherever he placed the man, he pulled strings. Ensuring that both men would still receive their pay, he somehow found for them an adapted bungalow in a quiet, safe area. The bungalow though depressingly soulless, was functional and practical. Within it’s walls, Bodie and Doyle slowly learned how to manage their new situation.
Bodie was nothing if not a stoic man. The threat of death or disablement had always dogged his career. He had probably amassed enough savings to keep himself in food and private nursing if he was willing to forgo the finer thing things in life. The issue which plagued his mind however was the constant presence of his partner. Though he told Doyle to go a thousand times a day in his head, his mouth could never form the words. He had lusted over Doyle's body and loved his mind for so many years that the pain of seeing Ray walk from his life was far sharper than anything his abused spine could throw at him. He woke crying in the night at their lost opportunities. Dreaming of a life of intimacy with Doyle was quite different to the new reality. They were closer now than they had ever been but instead of taking themselves to the giddy heights of sexual pleasure, their daily routine involved poor Ray helping Bodie to the toilet and administering his pills. Their closeness was complete but in the furthest way that Bodie could have imagined. There was no bodily function that Bodie had performed without Doyle's detached observation. Bodie had even to both their surprise, acquired erections which he had neither felt nor enjoyed. And through it all, though his care and kindness knew no bounds, it was obvious to Bodie that Ray didn't fancy him anymore.
Guilt had never been a stranger in Doyle's life. The fact that his rash actions had caused his best friend and would be lover to be hurt so badly, plagued his every thought. He knew that Bodie hated the care that he was so willing to bestow and he felt guilty about that too. He'd felt so near and so ready to receive the love that Bodie had wanted to give him that he added sexual frustration to his list of problems. When Bodie was otherwise engaged at his out patient’s appointments or busy with the physiotherapist, Doyle would masturbate with memories of Bodie's beautiful working body in his mind. This simple pleasure would cause the guilt to eat at his conscious for days afterwards. Desperate to touch his partner in more than a functional way caused Doyle to hate himself all the more. He adopted a strictly hands off approach as often as he was able, though it was far from easy for him to do.
**************************************
The alarm shrilled, heralding the start of the new day. Doyle slapped at it viciously suddenly realising that amazingly, they had both actually slept. As he raised the covers intending to go to the bathroom, his eyes caught the sight of his dozing partner. Bodie was a mass of wasted muscle and smelled ever so faintly of piss, but was still as beautiful to Doyle as he had ever been.
For once, unable to stop himself, Doyle stroked the pale face and gently kissed Bodie's forehead. Quite unwilling to stop now that he had started, he trailed feather light kisses down Bodie's torso. Stopping when he got to his partners flaccid penis, he stared at it longingly. Quite what made him do it, he never knew but before he could stop himself, he was kissing and sucking the organ like a man possessed. The sudden twitch of response shocked Doyle back to his senses. Startled by what he had done, Doyle looked up to see Bodie's mesmerized eyes looking down at him.
"Please, don't stop, Sunshine. I.... I can feel you. I can actually bloody feel you!"
Laughing and crying at the same time, Doyle was only too happy to oblige. It was all over in a matter of seconds and left Doyle with another armload of laundry. It was the first step however in Bodie's healing, the first day of the rest of their lives.
Though the recovery would be long, arduous and at times frustrating, Bodie now knew that he had something to live for. Someone to get better for. He hadn't lost Doyle's love at all, it had just been hidden amongst the grief and pain and guilt.
Though their lives may change in unexpected ways, Bodie and Doyle got what they had always wanted, always needed, each other. Life would be for a while at least, a struggle, but through better or worse, in sickness and health they would face it. Bound by a love they had so very nearly lost, they headed into their future. Together, as they had always had been.
********************
