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Battle Rage
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
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Ray Doyle was angry. Cowley had sent them out on an "Operation Suzie" 
that day, only for it to turn out to be completely unnecessary. 
Unfortunately, this hadn't been discovered until he and Bodie had almost 
been killed by criminals completely unconnected to their case. Maybe that 
lot had needed to be taken out, but not *now*. If Cowley had waited just 
*one* extra hour, after more than three days of waiting, he would not 
have had to send them out, and Doyle resented that.

But Bodie was livid. He had verbally attacked Cowley in a way that Doyle 
would never had expected to hear. Bodie had always been respectful to 
Cowley, treating him like a cross between a superior officer and a father 
figure, but this had been more than anyone could be expected to take. 
And, by his almost contrite manner, Cowley knew it.

Doyle had decided to stick to Bodie, worried that the other man might end 
up doing something stupid if left to himself. He had dragged Bodie to a 
restaurant for dinner, patiently listening to his partner rant. Then he 
had taken Bodie home, expecting that a quiet evening in front of the 
telly might calm the man down.

Instead, the other man had made a beeline for his closet. Now he was 
changing into tight black denim jeans (Doyle had been surprised to find 
out that Bodie even *had* a pair of denims) and a form fitting black 
poloneck. The effect was dangerous. And dangerously attractive.

"Where are you *going*?"

"Out."

"Obviously." Doyle rolled his eyes. "But why?"

"Because I need to get rid of some of this energy, sunshine, and I can't 
do it alone."

"So, what? Get in a pub fight and get yourself arrested? Or are you 
looking for a bird for some horizontal exercise?"

"Like a bird would put up with a bloke in this sort of mode. No, and not 
a fight either."

"Then what?"

"None of your business." The last was delivered in a flat monotone, with 
no expression showing. He grabbed a black leather jacked to complete the 
outfit.

Doyle was quickly losing the calm that he had managed to build during 
dinner. "Then what!? If it's not a bird or a fight, then what *are* you 
going looking for? And I'm your partner, so it bloody well *is* my 
business!"

Doyle parked himself in front of the flat door so that Bodie would have 
to push him out of the way to leave. Instead, Bodie stopped right in 
front of him, well inside his personal space, and glared at him.

"I want to get fucked."

Doyle blinked, certain that he must of misheard. "You what?"

"I want to get fucked!" Nope. He had heard right the first time.

"Since when have you *ever* wanted to get fucked?"

Bodie snorted. "How do you think mercs work off the battle rage? Fuck or 
be fucked, and you don't always get to choose which."

Doyle shook his head. "And you *want* to be..."

Bodie frowned, then moved in closer. "Right, and unless *you* want to 
give me what I want, you'd better get out of my way, sunshine."

Doyle pictured in his mind some of the possible outcomes of letting Bodie 
leave, and shuddered. Then he pictured explaining to Cowley how he let it 
- whatever "it" might be - happened and shuddered again.

Well, then...

"Fine, I will." But, instead of moving out of the way, he advanced on 
Bodie. The bigger man looked surprised, then speculative.

"Nice try, Ray, but you don't have what it takes."

Doyle laughed. "You've seen me without my clothes, so you *know* that I 
have what it takes. And, while it's been a few years, I do remember the 
principles." He grinned, seeing that he had surprised his partner, for 
once. He continued to advance, and Bodie didn't realize that he was 
retreating until he was brought up short by the sofa behind him. He had 
never seen his partner looking so... predatory. He hadn't really been 
serious, but now he wondered...

When Bodie couldn't back up any further, Doyle reached out and pulled the 
poloneck to just under Bodie's armpits, then pinched the revealed nipples 
roughly. He smirked when he saw the demin-covered bulge twitch and grow. 
If this is what Bodie needed from time to time, then, damnit, he was 
going to get it from his partner, not some faceless stranger.

Bodie groaned at the rough touch, and felt the slow burn that had been 
building all day flare into sudden flame. When hands worked his zip, he 
arched into the touch. Jeans and pants were yanked down, together, to 
bunch at his knees. Then, bare from nipples to knees, he was turned and 
bent over the back of the sofa. He moaned, and rubbed himself against the 
rough fabric. Then he jerked as a hand slapped his right arse cheek.

"No moving," came the harsh voice from behind him.

He held still. This was *exactly* what he wanted. When fingers were held 
in front of his face, he wet them eagerly. He had to fight to stay still 
when he felt the first one penetrate him. He never would have thought 
Doyle capable of acting this way, but now that he knew, he planned on 
experiencing this side of his partner a little more often.

The preparation was quick, but thorough, and Bodie held himself, 
anticipating the first thrust. He wasn't disappointed. The transition 
from the head nudging his arse, to the balls slapping against him was 
quick, painful and perfect. Ray held still for a moment until Bodie's ass 
unclenched. Then Bodie felt him pull back until he almost slipped free, 
then slam back in.

"From now on, "thrust "when you need this," thrust "call me first." thrust 
"Don't go looking" thrust "for someone else." thrust "If you want it" 
thrust "*I'll* give it to you." thrust "Understand?" thrust.

By this point, Bodie was barely coherent. He wanted to spread his legs 
further apart, but the fabric around his knees bound them together. He 
wanted to answer Ray, but all he could manage were moans. One hand 
twisted his nipples, bordering on pain, while the other gripped his hip, 
hard enough to leave bruises. Each thrust forced his cock to rub against 
the back of the sofa. Then Ray bit him at the base of the neck, through 
the fabric, and he howled as his whole body spasmed into orgasm. Dimly, 
he heard Ray's shout behind him.

Bodie slumped over the sofa back, his partner draped across him, 
panting. He was going to be sore the next day, but *Damn!* he felt good. 
The anger and adrenaline that had been poisoning his system were gone. He 
shifted a little, and Doyle groaned.

"C'mon, sunshine. A hot shower, an' a good night's sleep will do you 
wonders."

Somehow, Bodie managed to get them both upright, fully undressed, and 
into the shower. He turned the shower on, good and hot, and scrubbed them 
both down. Then he dried the barely awake Doyle off and maneuvered him 
into the bed. When he started to head to clean up the mess they had made, 
a hand shot out and pulled him back into bed, with amazing strength. Not 
being terribly interested in cleaning, at the moment, he didn't fight the 
grip. He let the other man pull him into a loose hug.

"Still plannin' on getting fucked by strangers?"

Bodie laughed. "Don't need to. Got you, don't I?"

"An' don't you forget it."

THE END